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armpirate · 3 months ago

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The Vows Between Us || Jungkook

Part 2

pairing: JK x fem!reader || Arranged marriage

w.c.: 13.6k

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, oral sex (male receiving), female masturbation, unprotected sex, teasing, edging (Minors DNI! Refrain from reading if you're not +18, and ignore if you don't like this type of content)

Aprox. time of reading: 40 / 50 minutes

Summary: For Jungkook, marrying you was a calculated move -a necessary step to secure the company that was rightfully his. But also a move to know you'd be his after years of looking at you from afar. For you, it was an escape from the gilded cage your family had locked you in. What neither of you anticipated was the spark that would ignite in the ashes of your arrangement. But in a world where every touch felt like a promise and every whisper hid a secret, falling for him was your first mistake. Because just when you thought his heart might truly be yours, you uncovered the truth. Or so you thought.

MASTERLIST

The air inside Jungkook's office was warm and suffocating despite the minimalistic modern design and large floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked Berlin's skyline. You stepped inside with measured steps, your heels clicking softly on the marble floor. Jungkook was already there, leaning against the edge of his grand wooden desk with his long tattooed fingers wrapping around the pen that kept swirling on his digits every few seconds, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

"You're early," he said, his voice smooth but laced with something smug.

"I prefer to get unpleasant things over with quickly," you replied, your tone cool and detached as you slipped off your coat. "I assume your father told you why I'm here."

Jungkook chuckled, swirling the pen one last time before putting it down. "Oh, I know. The future Mrs. Jeon wants to 'discuss terms,' right? Sounds like a business merger already." his dark eyes gleamed with interest as he looked you up and down, deliberately slow. "But I'm curious, why did you finally agree? You seemed so determined to avoid me before."

You crossed your arms, meeting his gaze without flinching. "Not everything is about you, Jungkook. My reasons are my own."

The smirk faltered for a split second before returning, this time tinged with something bittersweet. "Fair enough," he said, straightening up and taking a step closer, his voice dropping just slightly. "But you'll have to get used to things being about us. At least, that's what everyone else will expect starting next weekend."

Your pulse quickened, but you refused to show it. You kept your expression neutral, tilting your head just slightly. "Let's get one thing straight, this marriage may be inevitable, but that doesn't mean I have to like it."

Jungkook smiled -slow, dangerous, and entirely too pleased. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

That sentence alone had you rolling your eyes, trying to control yourself from slipping your tongue on how disgusted you were by that whole thing.

You exhaled slowly, your fingers tightening around the strap of yourbag. "As long as you understand where we stand, this arrangement might work. We'll play the perfect couple for the public. But behind closed doors, we keep our distance until we sign the divorce papers. Simple."

Jungkook stepped closer, closing the space between you just enough to make your breath hitch. His cologne -warm and spicy- wrapped around you like an invisible trap. "Keep our distance?" he repeated, his voice low, almost amused. "Is that what you want? Because that's not what it looked like back at that business gala... when you couldn't stop staring."

As much as you wanted to deny it, your eyes were indeed on him the whole time. He was charming and captivating, it was impossible to move your eyes away from him. But that hypnosis lasted until his family came up with the idea of imposing that marriage on you. He lost all his charm just at that moment.

You narrowed your eyes. "I was staring at the disaster unfolding around me, not at you."

Jungkook smirked, tilting his head. "Right. That's why your eyes followed me the entire night." he leaned in, his lips just a breath away from your ear. "You're good at playing it cold, Y/n. But I wonder how long you can keep that act up once we're married."

You refused to back down, your voice calm despite the spark of irritation in your chest. "I've dealt with men far more intimidating than you, Jungkook. Trust me, keeping you at arm's length won't be a challenge."

A flicker of something darker crossed his eyes -something almost dangerous. For a moment, the air between you felt heavy, charged with unspoken words and years of unresolved tension.

"Good," Jungkook finally said, his voice a whisper. "Keep trying to resist me. It'll make it that much more fun when you fail."

Your jaw tightened, and you took a step back, reclaiming the distance. "You're delusional if you think I'll ever fall for you."

Jungkook raised his eyebrows in amused awe as he took on the challenge. "We'll see, future Mrs. Jeon. We've got a lifetime to test that theory."

You turned on your heel, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how his words affected you. But as you walked toward the door, you couldn't shake the feeling that Jungkook was right. The real challenge wasn't staying distant -it was making sure you didn't get burned by the fire between you.

"By the way, you mentioned divorce... didn't you?" your tracks stopped the second he mentioned that detail, hearing his heavy steps behind you as he approached his body.

Slowly, you turned to him, unable to back down on your stance "That's what we agreed on."

"Some deals suffer changes as they have to meet different necessities, don't you think?" the way his eyebrows arched, while his lips pursed on a mocking grin almost had you losing your patience. "Divorce was ever on the plate? Because I don't think it was one of my conditions".

"No, it was one of mine" you spat back. "Either sign those divorce papers on good terms, or I'll drag you from one trial to another" Jungkook loved the challenge, he loved the way your eyes fixed on him to make sure he understood everything you were saying.

"What if I don't want to sign them?"

"Then you'll have to find another dumbass to agree to get married to you" you rolled your eyes, thinking that would be the end of your conversation, but his fingers hooked on your elbow to stop you from walking away.

You weren't sure exactly when he got so close, but you could feel the warm air escaping his nostrils on your cheeks.

"Don't try to throw a fist at me" he stopped you. "You're so used to getting what you want, don't you? You pout a little, you act a little bitchy and daddy gives you all you want. Let me give you a spoiler: that won't work with me. The moment you're my wife, you'll do as I say. And if I say I don't want to get divorced, then you won't get those fucking papers".

Your eyes started to water: rage, sadness, frustration... All those feelings were building up as you realized you got to a no-exit stop. Your plans were crumbling down, all your ideas were getting ruined, and all you could do was tighten your lips and open your eyes as much as possible so tears wouldn't escape with a blink.

Daddy's girl? He had absolutely no idea. If you were living in such a perfect place, you wouldn't have agreed in the first place, but the fact that your parents -or people who gave you shelter when you needed it- agreed on engaging their daughter with a complete stranger for money should've given him enough of a hint of your reality.

"Your choice" you managed to get rid of his grip. "Either sign those papers, or I'll make sure to tell everyone what all of this is about".

"You won't. And you wanna know how I know?" he took one step closer to you. "I'll make your life a living hell if you do".

"With what power?"

Your mocking tone was the last straw before he moved his hand from your elbow to your throat, wrapping his fingers around it and slamming your body against the wide door.

"I don't need any power for that." his eyes were dark, his threat becoming a promise "Even if it's the last thing I do, I'll make you regret ever messing with me. So you better come with a pretty dress and the best of attitudes next weekend". He let go of your throat slowly, calmly placing his shirt properly "I know you'll make the best decision" he finally said.

Your eyes were fixed on him, confused at how easily he let you go. And, somehow, his words were even scarier than his actions, because you could see the threat through them.

The grand hall was filled with muted whispers and expectant gazes, the air thick with anticipation. The soft hum of violins played in the background, their melody delicate but almost haunting. The guests sat in rows beneath an arch of white roses and crystal chandeliers, their eyes flitting between the tall doors at the back of the aisle and Jungkook, who stood at the altar in his perfectly tailored black suit, waiting.

His fingers twitched at his sides as he stole a glance at the watch, sliding the sleeve of his jacket just a bit far up.

Ten minutes late. Then fifteen.

You weren't there.

He told himself you'd show up. You had to. But with each passing second, doubt sank its claws deeper into him. His heart pounded, and the polished facade he wore so well began to crack. Was this your way of backing out? A silent rebellion against a marriage neither of you had chosen? Were you actually telling the truth when you said you wouldn't show up if he didn't promise you a divorce?

The doors remained closed, and Jungkook's jaw tightened. His father, seated in the front row, shot him a warning glance -one that practically screamed "Handle this".

Then, just as his patience teetered on the edge of collapse, the heavy doors finally creaked open.

A hush fell over the crowd.

And there you were.

You stood at the entrance in your wedding dress, the long veil trailing behind you, catching the soft light like a halo. For a moment, the room seemed to blur around you, everything fading except the heavy thud of your heart. You could feel every eye on you, the weight of their expectations pressing down on your chest, stealing the breath from your lungs.

Your feet felt like concrete as you took your first step. Hesitation rooted itself deep inside you, your body caught in a battle between instinct and obligation.

Jungkook watched you with an intensity that bordered on desperation. His dark eyes flickered with a thousand questions. You couldn't miss the way his shoulders tensed or how his lips pressed into a thin line, betraying the fear he was trying so hard to conceal.

Step by step, you made your way down the aisle, but each step felt heavier than the last. Doubt whispered cruelly in your ear. "You don't have to do this" you told yourself.

Your fingers clutched the bouquet so tightly that your knuckles turned white. You forced yourself forward, your gaze fixed ahead, refusing to meet Jungkook's eyes until you stood just a breath away from him.

"Finally," Jungkook muttered under his breath, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

There was relief in his tone, but it was wrapped in a layer of frustration.

The officiant began to speak, his words echoing in the cavernous hall. You barely registered them, your mind a tangled mess of emotions. Jungkook's eyes never left yours. His expression was calm on the surface, but you could see the storm raging just beneath it: fear, frustration, and something dangerously close to longing.

"And now," the officiant said, his voice cutting through the fog in your mind, "if the bride and groom would like to exchange their vows."

Jungkook went first. His voice was steady, but the practiced words carried an unexpected weight, laced with sincerity that caught you off guard.

"I promise to protect you," he said, his gaze locking onto yours. "To stand beside you through whatever comes next. No matter what happens... I'm yours."

There was a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes -just a flash- but it was enough to send your heart lurching in your chest.

Then it was your turn. The officiant turned to you expectantly, waiting for your response.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came.

A heavy silence hung in the air. It stretched long enough to make the guests shift uncomfortably in their seats. Even the soft melody of the violins seemed to falter.

Everything you had prepared so mindfully disappeared at the feeling of being so watched, as if you were under watchful eye. You were sure it'd be obvious you weren't feeling either of the words you were pronouncing.

Jungkook's fingers curled slightly at his sides, his eyes searching yours for a sign, for anything.

The officiant cleared his throat. "Do you, Y/n, take Jeon Jungkook to be your lawfully wedded husband?" his tone was insistent, as if he wanted to get any words from you to get all of that over with.

The pause that followed was suffocating. You felt Jungkook's breath catch, his entire body coiled tight, ready to unravel.

Although he hoped you wouldn't humiliate him that way, he saw you completely able to do it.

Finally, you whispered the words.

"...I do."

Your voice was barely audible, a breath more than a declaration. But it was enough.

Jungkook exhaled, his shoulders relaxing, though the tension in his jaw remained. His eyes never left yours, dark and unreadable, as if trying to solve a puzzle with too many missing pieces.

The officiant smiled, oblivious to the war waging between the two of you. "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Jungkook hesitated, just for a heartbeat, before leaning in. Your head immediately threw back slightly, enough for him to know you didn't want that kiss and make it seem like a shy move for the rest of the assistants. His hand found your waist -firm but not forceful- as he tilted his head and pressed his lips to yours.

The kiss was brief, calculated for the audience, but the heat of it lingered far longer than it should have. Jungkook had been daydreaming way too long about it to waste that chance.

His lips were warm against yours, but there was something else beneath the surface. A question. A challenge.

When he pulled back, his eyes locked on yours once more. He didn't smile. Neither did you.

The applause from the crowd felt distant, like it belonged to another world entirely.

As the two of you turned to face the audience, Jungkook leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear.

"We're just getting started," he whispered, his voice dark with promise.

You kept your face neutral, your expression unreadable, but your pulse betrayed you, thudding wildly in your chest.

The reception was a spectacle of luxury and elegance, just as expected from a merger of two powerful families. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the grand hall, where hundreds of guests mingled, sipping champagne and exchanging polite congratulations.

You smiled and nodded your way through countless conversations, always keeping one eye on Jungkook. He was never far, and every time you saw him start toward you, you slipped between groups of guests or ducked behind another table.

You had managed to avoid him all night. At the cake-cutting ceremony, his hand had hovered near yours on the knife, holding tighter over your skin as you threatened to let the long sword slide from your fingers to his throat. And for a fleeting moment, you thought he might say something, yet he only smirked and moved closer to you. You were quick to turn away, disappearing into the crowd the moment the applause broke, trying to get away from him.

Jungkook, however, was nothing if not persistent.

The moment you saw him again, his dark eyes locked onto yours from across the dance floor. This time, there was no escape. The crowd parted just enough for him to make his way toward you, his strides deliberate and confident.

"Running from me again?" he said when he reached you, his voice low, a challenge glinting in his eyes.

You lifted your chin, forcing your expression to stay composed. "I wasn't running. I was... mingling with the guests."

His lips curled into a smirk. "Right. Mingling." he offered his hand, palm open and waiting. "Well, it's time for the first dance, Mrs. Jeon. You wouldn't want to disappoint our guests, would you?"

Your stomach tightened at the weight of his words. There was no getting out of this. Not without causing a scene.

With a quiet sigh, you slipped your hand into his. His fingers curled around yours, warm and firm, and you couldn't help but notice how easily they fit together.

The lights dimmed, and the soft melody of "You Are the Reason" by Calum Scott filled the air. A sweet, tender song -one that felt far too intimate for the situation, as if it was meant for two people who loved each other.

Jungkook led you to the center of the dance floor, his hand resting gently on your waist, pulling you just close enough to make your pulse stutter.

"I was starting to think you wouldn't show up today," he said softly, his voice barely audible over the music. His eyes searched yours, the teasing edge gone now, replaced by something far more serious. "You made me worried."

You swallowed, your gaze dropping for a split second before meeting his again. "I was... thinking things through."

His hand tightened slightly on your waist. "Did you change your mind at the last minute?"

For a moment, you didn't answer. The question hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. The song swelled around you, the lyrics wrapping around your heart like a bittersweet lullaby.

You knew hell would be nothing compared to your life if you didn't show up to the wedding. Not because of Jungkook or his family though, but your adoptive parents. The moment you twisted all of their plans, there would be no escape from it.

At least with Jungkook you wouldn't owe anyone anything. Instead, you'd be the one they owe something to.

Jungkook's eyes softened, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "If you had, I would've waited. I would've found another way."

Your breath hitched. His words caught you off guard -unexpected and disarming. For the first time that night, the wall you had so carefully built around yourself began to crack.

He seemed so genuine, so caring.

"I'm here now," you said, your voice steadier than you felt. "That's all that matters."

His gaze lingered on you for a long moment before he nodded. "Yeah. You're here."

The music continued, the world around you fading as you moved together in perfect synchrony. His touch was light yet grounding, his eyes never leaving yours.

For a fleeting second, you forgot about the crowd, the expectations, the tangled mess of your circumstances. It was just the two of you, swaying gently beneath the chandeliers, the lyrics of the song weaving a story neither of you was ready to admit aloud.

As the final notes faded, Jungkook leaned in just slightly, his voice a soft murmur against your ear.

"You can keep running all you want," he said, his breath warm on your skin. "But sooner or later, you'll stop. And when you do... I'll be right here, waiting."

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. There was no smirk, no mask, just him.

The applause from the crowd broke the spell, and you quickly stepped back, your heart thudding painfully in your chest. Jungkook let you go, but his eyes stayed on you, dark and unreadable, as if daring you to run again.

And maybe you would. But for the first time, a small part of you wondered if running was really what you wanted. No, you stayed by his side, answering to his challenge with the same power he was showing off.

The party blurred into a collection of clinking glasses, polite congratulations, and watchful eyes. Despite the sea of guests surrounding you, you felt like you were holding your breath the entire time. So when Jungkook leaned close and whispered, "Let's get out of here," you didn't argue. If he hadn't said it, you probably would've escaped by yourself.

Now, the two of you sat in the back of a sleek black car, the hum of the city filling the silence between you. The driver navigated the streets with ease, the warm glow of streetlights flashing across the car's interior.

Jungkook sat beside you, his posture relaxed, but his eyes kept drifting toward your hand -the wedding ring glinting softly on your finger. He didn't bother hiding the fact that he was staring.

You caught him once, raising an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"

His gaze flicked up to meet yours, and for a second, something unreadable flashed across his face. "No," he said quietly. "Just getting used to the sight."

You turned your hand slightly, the light catching on the diamond. The ring was beautiful, of course -a complex design that was probably picked out by your parents and Jungkook's father rather than by either of you. It felt foreign on your finger, a constant reminder of the deal you'd made.

Jungkook's lips twitched into something that wasn't quite a smile. "It suits you," he said, his voice soft, almost contemplative.

You said nothing, turning your head to watch the city rush by through the window. Jungkook simply smirked, knowing that your silence was better than a sassy response from you.

When the car finally pulled up to the luxury hotel, you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. The driver opened the door, and you stepped out, feeling the cool night air brush against your skin. Jungkook followed close behind, his hand hovering near the small of your back but never quite touching.

The suite was exactly what you expected -grand and luxurious, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the Brandenburg Gate. A bottle of champagne and a tray of chocolates waited on the marble table, while a large king-sized bed sat at the center of the room, draped in crisp white linens.

You set your bag down and turned to Jungkook, folding your arms across your chest. "I'll take the bed. You can sleep on the couch."

His eyebrows lifted slightly, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "The couch?"

"It's comfortable enough," you said, nodding toward the plush, oversized sofa near the window. "Plenty of space."

Jungkook took a step closer, his expression unreadable. "We're married now, remember? Sharing the bed won't kill us."

You scoffed lightly, crossing the room to stand by the couch. "Not happening." You glanced back at him, raising an eyebrow. "Fine. You take the bed. I'll sleep here." you rushed to say, feeling your energy consumed by the small talk you made with all the guests.

"No." his response was immediate, his tone firm. "You're not sleeping on the couch."

"Then am I sleeping on the floor?" you arched an eyebrow "Because I won't sleep with you in the same bed".

You stared at him, daring him to argue further. But to your surprise, he sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Alright. I'll sleep on the couch."

His sudden surrender caught you off guard. "Just like that?"

He smirked faintly, tossing his jacket onto a chair. "I'm not going to win this argument, am I?"

You watched him for a moment, suspicious of how easily he gave in, but ultimately decided not to push it. "Good. I'll get ready for bed."

As you disappeared into the bathroom, Jungkook sank onto the couch, leaning his head back against the cushions. He glanced at the wedding ring on his own hand, turning it slowly between his fingers. For all his confidence and charm, there was something strangely grounding about the weight of the band.

As much as that wasn't the way he wanted you to be by his side, it somehow made him feel good.

When you returned, dressed in something far more comfortable than your wedding gown, Jungkook was already stretched out on the couch, one arm draped over his eyes.

"Comfortable?" you asked, standing by the bed.

He peeked at you from beneath his arm, his lips quivering into a faint smile. "I've had worse."

You rolled your eyes and climbed into bed, pulling the blankets up around you. For a few moments, silence filled the room, the only sound the soft hum of the city outside the windows.

Just as your eyes started to drift closed, you heard Jungkook's voice -quiet but clear in the darkness.

"Goodnight, Y/n."

You hesitated before responding, your voice soft. "Goodnight, Jungkook."

Neither of you said anything after that, but sleep didn't come easily. You lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, painfully aware of his presence just a few feet away.

The distance between you felt both vast and dangerously fragile. And as the minutes stretched into hours, you couldn't help but wonder how long it would stay that way.

The morning started quietly -too quietly. You woke up, blinking against the soft morning light spilling into the room, only to find Jungkook already sitting on the couch, his phone in hand. His jacket was gone, and his dress shirt, slightly wrinkled from the night before, was unbuttoned at the collar. He looked far too relaxed for someone who had spent the night on a couch after your wedding.

"Good morning," he said, his eyes flicking to yours the second you stirred. His voice was calm, but there was something smug lurking just beneath the surface, as if he was already one step ahead of you.

You rubbed your eyes, forcing yourself to sound composed. "Morning."

A few beats of silence passed, too long to be comfortable.

"You were tossing and turning last night," Jungkook said casually, stretching his arms behind his head. "Couldn't sleep?"

"I slept just fine," you lied, standing and heading for your bag. You could feel his eyes on your every move, sharp and assessing.

"You sure? You sounded restless." his voice was smooth, laced with amusement.

You froze, giving him a flat look. "Were you listening to me sleep?"

He grinned, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "It's hard not to when someone mutters 'This is a mistake' at 2 a.m."

Your face heated. "I did not..."

"You did." his smirk widened. "I thought about waking you up to ask what you meant, but I figured I'd let you dream about it instead."

You crossed your arms, your patience wearing thin. "Thanks for your consideration, Jungkook."

"Anything for you, love," he said, drawing out the word with deliberate sarcasm.

"You've really mastered being annoying, haven't you?" you shot back, heading toward the closet.

"Years of practice," he said, standing up and stretching, his shirt riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of skin. "You'll get used to it."

You rolled your eyes, yanking open your suitcase with unnecessary force. "God forbid."

Jungkook chuckled under his breath, walking over to lean casually against the wall beside you. "You can deny it all you want, but deep down, you like this."

You turned to glare at him. "Like what?"

"This," he said, gesturing between the two of you. "The bickering. The back-and-forth. Admit it, it's fun."

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. "Jungkook, not everything is a game. And if you think this -whatever this is- counts as fun, then we're going to have a very long, very difficult marriage."

He tilted his head, pretending to think. "A long marriage... Sounds like you're planning to stick around. It does sound really good to me."

"Oh my god," you muttered, turning on your heel. "I can't do this right now."

You stalked toward the bathroom, determined to get a moment's peace.

"You're already giving up?" he called after you. "We've been married for less than 24 hours, Y/n!"

"I'm not giving up. I'm taking a shower," you snapped, slamming the bathroom door shut.

The water was a relief, washing away some of the tension, but your frustration lingered like a storm cloud. And then, halfway through shampooing your hair, you realized something.

You forgot to bring clothes.

You let out a frustrated groan, rinsing the shampoo quickly before wrapping yourself in a towel. The last thing you wanted was to ask Jungkook for help, so you cracked the door open and peeked out.

He was still there, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, clearly waiting for your return like some smug predator.

Of course.

You squared your shoulders and stepped out, keeping your head high as you made your way toward the bag.

Jungkook's eyes found you immediately, sweeping over your damp hair and the towel wrapped tightly around you. He didn't even try to hide it.

"Forgot something?" his voice was low and teasing.

"Not a word," you warned, grabbing your clothes.

But before you could escape back to the bathroom, his hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. His fingers were warm, firm, and far too steady for someone who was enjoying this way too much.

"Why bother going back?" he said softly, his voice dropping into that dangerously calm tone that always made your pulse race. "You're already here."

You tightened your grip on your towel. "Let me go, Jungkook."

His eyes darkened, his thumb brushing against your wrist in a slow, deliberate motion. "Why? What's the big deal? We're married now, remember?"

Your breath caught, but you forced your voice to stay steady. "I'm not afraid of you, if that's what you're thinking."

He leaned in just slightly, his lips curving into a smirk. "Then prove it. Get changed right here." His gaze dropped for a split second before meeting yours again, his voice barely a whisper. "Unless you're shy."

Your heart thundered in your chest, heat rushing to your face. "I'm not shy."

You weren't shy, but you didn't like the way your body was reacting to his voice, to his petition and his proximity. And you certainly didn't want him to see it so clearly either.

"Then go ahead," he said, his voice practically daring you.

You glared at him, yanking your wrist free. "Turn around."

"I'm not turning around" he sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "What's the fun of it if I can't see you?"

He was trying to intimidate you, challenge you to do something he thought you wouldn't dare to do, so he could then tease you about it.

Two could play that game.

You placed the clothes on the bed, next to where he was. Taking one step back, your hands were placed on both edges of the towel, slowly undoing the knot to let it pool at your feet. Jungkook gulped thick at the sight, not expecting you to actually get naked in front of him, and even less that way, and it gave you a pinch of pride at how nervous he looked for a second.

You didn't need to do anything, just that stare and the sight of your body alone was enough to awaken the most primal needs. His body responded to you, even if it had been just a second he saw you. Your humid skin, the way some drops fell from your hair and rolled down the curve of your breast to get to your hardened nipple. His mouth was watering just with the need of tasting you.

Jungkook blinked, confused at the way your hand was stretched out for him, "The panties" you mentioned as if it were obvious.

His hand moved to his left, grabbing the fabric to hand it out to you. You put them on torturously slow, covering your lower half to snap your fingers and asking him for your bra. Placing the strips on your shoulders, you turned to him, your body fitting perfectly in between his semi-parted legs as you silently asked him to tie the clasp.

Shivers ran through your body at the contact of the reverse of his fingers on your skin, his touch holding on longer than necessary, just because he liked the way you felt as he touched you a little bit too much.

You didn't need to ask, because Jungkook moved to the next item the moment you stepped away.

He should've seen it coming for him when he saw you lifting your feet, placing it on his thigh -way too close to a place where he needed you like crazy. Your fingers moved calmly, sliding the tight over your leg, up the curve of your knee, moving it past your thigh. Yet Jungkook could only focus on how your warmth spread over his skin like wildfire, making him feel you were touching him in places you were not.

When you finally stepped back to put on the other side of the tight, and the rest of clothes, Jungkook felt like he could breathe again, his control coming back to him when he was able to think straight -which also happened when you were fully clothed again.

You thought he'd hesitate or act shy, but instead his cocky attitude came back as he stood up, the height difference becoming obvious again as he towered over you.

"See how it isn't that difficult to be a good girl?" he muttered, just loud enough for you to hear.

You'd have thrown a shoe at him if he hadn't hidden inside the bathroom immediately after airing out that response.

He was insufferable.

The car ride to Jungkook's house was quiet, tense, and far too long for your liking. The morning sun bathed the streets in gold, but it did nothing to lighten the atmosphere inside the vehicle. Jungkook sat beside you, one arm draped lazily across the back of the seat, his eyes occasionally drifting toward you as you stared resolutely out the window.

He had been surprisingly well-behaved since the towel incident, keeping his teasing remarks to a minimum -though his occasional glances were enough to keep you on edge.

When the car finally pulled up in front of his house, your eyes widened slightly. House was an understatement. It was a sprawling modern estate with sleek glass panels, sharp architectural lines, and an air of quiet luxury.

"Home sweet home," Jungkook said, stepping out of the car and holding the door open for you with a half-smirk.

You stepped out, clutching your overnight bag tightly. "Big enough so we won't have to see each other for a whole day"

"Thanks for noticing," he quipped. "Come on. I'll give you the grand tour."

You followed him up the steps, trying not to be too impressed as you took in the pristine interior-marble floors, minimalist décor, and massive windows that flooded the space with light.

"Kitchen's over there," Jungkook said, gesturing toward an open-concept area with gleaming countertops. "Dining room, living room... you know, standard rich-guy stuff."

"Right," you said dryly. "Because this is completely normal."

He glanced back at you with a grin. "You'll get used to it." the mockery on his tone, knowing damn too well you were used to all that luxury and more, shouldn't have been as funny as it seemed for you.

You rolled your eyes, walking a little faster to avoid his gaze. The tension from earlier was still there, simmering just beneath the surface, but it was muted now, replaced by an odd sense of anticipation.

"Upstairs," Jungkook said, leading you to the second floor. You followed him down a hallway lined with modern artwork and huge windows, your footsteps echoing softly on the hardwood floors.

He stopped in front of a door near the end of the hallway and turned to you. "This is your room."

You blinked, caught off guard. "My... room?"

Jungkook nodded, his expression unreadable. "I figured you'd want your own space."

Your hand tightened around the strap of your bag. For a moment, you didn't know what to say. You had fully expected him to make some smug comment about sharing a bed -or worse, insist on it. But there he was, offering you something you hadn't dared to hope for: distance.

"Thanks," you said quietly, stepping into the room. It was beautiful -spacious, with a king-sized bed, soft cream-colored walls, and a large window that overlooked the shared garden of the building. There was even an en-suite bathroom with a walk-in shower and a deep soaking tub.

You indeed wouldn't need to get out there, except to eat.

"Your things are in the closet" he started. "You didn't bring a lot of things, so I guess you'll bring the rest later?"

"No, that's it" you whispered.

Jungkook stopped for a second, shocked about the fact that you only brought a medium suitcase and the bag you were carrying to pack up all of your things. It wasn't like he was expecting a full suitcase display from you, but certainly not something so minimal.

"I'll be down the hall if you need anything," Jungkook said, lingering in the doorway. His eyes softened, his earlier bravado fading just a little. "Seriously. Anything."

For a brief second, the air between you shifted. He wasn't teasing or smug. He just looked... sincere.

You hesitated, feeling the strange urge to say something more, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you gave him a small nod. "I'll be fine."

He smiled faintly, stepping back. "Alright. Settle in. I'll see you downstairs."

As he walked away, you closed the door and leaned against it, exhaling slowly.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

But then again, with Jungkook, nothing ever stayed calm for long.

The first month of marriage was nothing short of a battlefield.

It didn't take long for every small interaction to turn into a heated argument. Jungkook always had something to say -sharp and sarcastic, ready to push your buttons at every opportunity. You were no better, meeting his smug remarks with icy glares and curt responses. It became a game, a war of words and wills, with neither of you willing to surrender.

There were good moments, but they were fleeting. It started with you finding out Jungkook filled up your closet with different clothes and accessories, adding up to the small suitcase you first brought. And it slowly evolved into a laugh shared over breakfast when Jungkook nearly burned his toast. A surprisingly comfortable evening spent watching a movie in silence, where the tension seemed to ease just a little. But those moments were always overshadowed by the endless tug-of-war that followed.

It was exhausting, that constant dance of hostility and fleeting truce.

Every day felt like a test of who could push the other further without breaking. The house, despite its size, felt stifling. His presence lingered in every room -a constant reminder that your marriage was nothing more than a cage disguised as luxury.

And today, you'd had enough.

The argument started in the kitchen that morning, over something as trivial as a set of misplaced car keys. It escalated far too quickly, voices rising, accusations flying.

"You always think you can control everything," you snapped, crossing your arms.

Jungkook leaned against the counter, his jaw tightening. "Control? I'm trying to help you, but you treat everything I say like it's some personal attack."

"Because it always is!" you threw up your hands in frustration. "You don't know how to back off, Jungkook! You just keep pushing and pushing... Fuck, you don't let me breathe!"

"Maybe because you keep running away instead of facing things!" his voice dropped, low and sharp. "You're so obsessed with shutting me out that you can't even see when someone's trying to meet you halfway."

You stared at him, chest heaving, words caught in your throat. For a second, neither of you moved. The silence felt heavier than the argument itself.

Then, without a word, you turned on your heel and stormed upstairs. You needed air, space, anything to escape that suffocating cycle.

In your room, you grabbed a coat and your purse, your hands trembling with frustration. Your eyes caught on your wedding ring, glinting in the sunlight. The sight of it only fueled the fire burning in your chest.

You slipped it off, the cool metal unfamiliar without the warmth of your skin beneath it. For a moment, you stared at the ring in your palm, your thoughts a chaotic swirl of emotions.

Then you set it on the dresser and walked out of the room, not bothering to look back.

Jungkook was still in the kitchen when you came back down, his back to you. You didn't say a word as you grabbed your keys from the counter and headed for the front door.

The sound of your footsteps must have caught his attention because he turned around, his eyes narrowing. "Where are you going?"

"Out," you said shortly, not slowing down.

"Without your ring?" his voice was calm, too calm. It sent a shiver down your spine.

You paused, hand on the door handle, refusing to turn around. "I need some time alone."

"And you think taking off your ring is the way to do that?" his footsteps echoed behind you, slow and deliberate. "Is this your idea of freedom?"

You finally turned to face him, meeting his eyes head-on. "What does it matter? It's not like this marriage is real anyway."

The words hung in the air, heavy and final.

For the first time in weeks, Jungkook didn't have a quick response. He just looked at you, his jaw clenched, his eyes dark with something you couldn't quite place -hurt, maybe, or anger, or both.

"If you walk out that door without it," he said quietly, "don't expect me to come looking for you."

The threat was clear, but it only made your resolve stronger.

"Good," you said, voice steady. "That's exactly what I want."

And with that, you opened the door and stepped outside, the cool air hitting your face like a slap.

As you walked toward your car, your heart pounded in your chest. Part of you expected him to follow, to stop you. But when you glanced back, the door was already closed.

Maybe he didn't care enough to stop you after all. Although you wouldn't think too much about it. The more he ignored you, the more freedom you'd have.

The bar was harmonized with a low hum of conversation and soft music filling the air. You had no plan when you walked in -just an overwhelming need to be anywhere but at that house. You found a spot at the bar, ordering a drink and savoring the temporary escape it promised.

The alcohol warmed your throat and dulled the frustration swirling in your chest. One drink turned into two, and for the first time in weeks, you felt like you could breathe again.

"You look like you could use some company."

You glanced up to see a man standing beside you, his smile easy and confident. His eyes lingered on you just a little too long.

"Not really," you said, turning back to your drink.

"Come on, don't be like that," he said, leaning in closer. "It's just a conversation. You shouldn't be alone in a place like this."

"I'm fine," you insisted, but he didn't seem to get the hint.

The air shifted before you could say anything else, a new presence filling the space behind you.

"She's not alone."

You froze at the familiar voice, low and commanding. Turning slightly, you found yourself face-to-face with Jungkook. His dark eyes were locked on the man, his jaw tight, his entire body radiating quiet danger.

The man raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "And who are you?"

Jungkook's lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. "Her husband."

The word hung in the air like a gunshot, silencing everything around you.

The man's eyes flicked between the two of you, suddenly less confident. "Right... well, my mistake." he backed away with a muttered apology, disappearing into the crowd.

Your heart was pounding, though you weren't sure if it was from the alcohol or the way Jungkook's eyes hadn't left you once.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, trying to sound unaffected.

"I could ask you the same thing," he said, his voice calm but laced with barely restrained frustration. "But I guess taking off your ring and disappearing without a word answers that for me."

"I needed space," you said, crossing your arms. "You don't own me, Jungkook."

His eyes darkened. "You're right. I don't. But I'm still your husband. If you disappear in the middle of the night, I'll come looking for you. And if some creep thinks he can hit on you, then I'm going to do something about it."

You rolled your eyes, the alcohol emboldening you. "So this is about your ego?"

He took a step closer, the tension crackling between you. "No. It's about the fact that I care, whether you want to believe it or not."

His words caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless.

"Let's go," he said, his tone softening just a fraction. "It's late."

"I'm not going anywhere," you said stubbornly, turning back toward the bar.

Jungkook let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. "Fine. You want to be difficult? Have it your way."

Before you could react, his arm looped around your waist, and in one swift motion, he threw you over his shoulder like it was the easiest thing in the world.

"Jungkook!" you gasped, pounding your fists against his back. "Put me down!"

"Not a chance," he muttered, already weaving his way through the crowd. Heads turned, curious eyes following the scene as you squirmed in his grip. "You brought this on yourself."

"Jungkook, I swear to God..."

"You can yell all you want," he said calmly. "We're leaving."

Once outside, the cool night air hit you like a slap, but it did little to cool the heat rising in your cheeks -from anger or embarrassment, you weren't sure. Jungkook carried you all the way to his car, finally setting you down beside it.

"You're insane," you snapped, your breath coming fast as you straightened your clothes.

"Maybe," he said, stepping closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I thought you'd have learned to love it by now."

For a moment, you stood there, caught in a standoff.

"Get in the car," he said softly, but there was no mistaking the authority in his voice.

Your pride told you to refuse, to stand your ground and make this even more difficult. But something about the intensity in his eyes made you falter.

Wordlessly, you opened the car door and got in, your pulse still racing.

Jungkook slid into the driver's seat, starting the car without another word. The ride home was silent, the air between you charged with tension. You could feel his occasional glances, the way his hands tightened around the steering wheel every time your bare finger caught the light.

The ride home was silent. He didn't speak, and neither did you. But the weight of everything unsaid filled the car, pressing down on you both.

When you pulled up in front of the building, Jungkook finally broke the silence.

"I'm not going to pretend I know what you're thinking," he said, his voice low. "But if you want to leave, really leave, just say it. I'll let you go."

You turned to look at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his eyes. It was the first time you'd seen him drop his guard like this.

But instead of answering, you opened the door and stepped out, your heart pounding in your chest.

Jungkook stayed in the car for a moment before following you inside. Neither of you said a word as you climbed the stairs, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

When you reached your room, you paused in the doorway, glancing back at him.

"Goodnight," you said softly, your voice barely audible.

For once, Jungkook didn't have a clever comeback. He just nodded, his eyes lingering on you a little longer than they should have.

"Goodnight," he echoed, his voice rough around the edges.

As you closed the door behind you, you couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between you -something neither of you was ready to admit yet.

The tension between you and Jungkook had been palpable since that night. Every word, every glance, felt like a battle -a silent war that neither of you was willing to lose. And just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, you found yourself trapped at one of his company's lavish parties, drowning in champagne and meaningless small talk.

It wasn't your kind of crowd. Polished executives and their equally polished partners swirled around you, exchanging pleasantries and hollow laughs. Being the accessory of the main character of the party wasn't your thing at all. You stood near the bar, sipping your drink, counting down the minutes until you could escape.

That's when you saw him, Jungkook, standing at the center of a group of people, commanding their attention with ease. He was dressed in a sharp black suit, his hair perfectly styled, exuding the kind of confidence that made it impossible to look away.

And then you noticed her.

She was standing beside him, too close, her hand resting lightly on his arm as she laughed at something he said. A striking woman in a sleek red dress, her eyes sparkled with something far more than professional interest.

Your grip on your glass tightened as you watched her lean in, whispering something into his ear. To your horror, Jungkook didn't pull away. Instead, he turned toward her with a slow smile, his eyes dropping deliberately to her lips before meeting hers again.

It was a calculated move -one meant for your benefit. You knew it. He knew it.

Your stomach twisted, a mix of anger and something far more dangerous bubbling in your chest. But you refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Not here. Not in front of everyone.

You turned your back to him, willing yourself to focus on the conversation happening nearby. It was meaningless chatter, something about stock prices, but you latched onto it, pretending you didn't notice the way your pulse was racing.

"Jealous, love?"

The voice was low and teasing, right behind you. You didn't need to turn to know who it was.

"Hardly," you said, taking a sip of your drink without looking at him. "Do what you want. I couldn't care less."

"Is that so?" Jungkook stepped into your line of vision, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Because it looked like you were about two seconds away from throwing your drink at her."

"More like two seconds away from smacking this glass on your head" you finally sentenced.

"That does sound like someone who's jealous"

You forced a smile, meeting his gaze head-on. "Please. If I wanted to make a scene, you'd know it."

Jungkook chuckled, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper meant only for you. "Careful, Y/n. You might give me the wrong idea: that you actually care about me and what I do."

Your pulse jumped, but you refused to let him win. "Trust me, I don't." you narrowed your eyes while looking at him "Just be careful of how you behave in front of everyone. We're still married. In private, do whatever the fuck you please".

His smile was slow, almost predatory. "Good. Because I'd hate for you to get hurt playing a game you can't win."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, breathless and furious.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. You couldn't stop watching him: laughing, smiling, always with her by his side. Each glance felt like a deliberate push, a challenge to see how far you'd let him go.

By the time the party started winding down, you'd had enough. You grabbed your purse and made your way toward the exit, your steps quick and determined.

But before you could leave, a hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

"Running away again?" Jungkook's voice was calm, but his grip was firm.

"Let go," you said, your voice low and dangerous.

"Not until you admit it." His eyes locked onto yours, the amusement gone, replaced by something far more serious.

"Admit what?"

"That you care," he said simply.

You yanked your wrist free, your eyes burning with fury. "You're unbelievable."

"And yet, here you are," Jungkook said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "Still standing in front of me". You didn't know when he stepped so close that your chests were pressed together and your breaths were mixing between you two "I'm only yours, love. You just need to ask me, and I'll declare to you my love without thinking twice".

For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade, the party noise a distant hum. You hated how close he was, how easily he could get under your skin.

But you refused to give him what he wanted. Not tonight.

Without another word, you turned and walked away, ignoring the way your heart was pounding in your chest.

The car ride back was suffocatingly quiet. The air between you felt like a loaded gun, ready to go off at the slightest provocation. Jungkook's hands rested on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. You sat stiffly in the passenger seat, arms crossed, staring out the window in stubborn silence.

The tires crunched on the gravel as the car came to a stop in front of the building. You didn't wait for him to say anything -didn't even glance his way as you pushed the door open and strode toward the front entrance.

But the sound of his footsteps trailing behind you, steady and deliberate, made your pulse quicken.

You barely made it inside when Jungkook's voice cut through the silence.

"Care to explain what that little stunt at the party was all about?" his tone was deceptively calm, but the underlying tension was unmistakable.

You spun around, glaring at him. "Are you seriously accusing me of something after what you pulled tonight? Flirting with her right in front of me?"

Jungkook smirked, stepping closer. "You noticed."

"Of course I noticed!" you snapped, your voice rising. "You made sure I would."

He shrugged, his eyes gleaming with something dangerous. "Maybe. But you didn't have to leave the party like that, running off again like you always do. It's getting old, Y/n."

"Maybe it's because I can't stand being around you," you shot back, your voice trembling slightly with the force of your anger. "Did you think of that?"

Jungkook tilted his head, studying you. "No," he said quietly, stepping even closer until there was barely any space between you. "I think you left because it bothered you. Because for once, you didn't have control, and it drove you crazy."

Your breath hitched, but you refused to back down. "You think too highly of yourself."

"Do I?" his voice was a whisper now, low and deliberate, each word wrapping around you like a challenge. "Then why are you shaking?"

You hated him for being right. Hated how easily he could strip away every layer of defense you had built.

"I'm not..."

"You are," he interrupted, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "And it's not because you're angry. It's because you feel something."

You opened your mouth to protest, but no words came out.

His eyes dropped to your lips for the briefest moment before locking onto yours again. "Tell me I'm wrong, and I'll back off," he said softly. "Tell me you don't feel anything, and I'll stop."

You stared at him, your heart pounding so hard it was almost painful.

But you couldn't say it.

The words wouldn't come.

Jungkook's smile was slow and triumphant. "That's what I thought."

He turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, breathless and furious, your skin still burning from his touch.

"You're insufferable," you called after him, but your voice wavered, the heat of your frustration blending with something far more dangerous.

Jungkook stopped mid-step, his back still to you. For a split second, you thought he'd ignore you, that he'd let you stew in your own whirlwind of emotions.

But then he turned, slow and deliberate, his dark eyes locking onto yours like a predator sizing up its prey. His steps were measured, each one bringing him closer, the air between you thick with electricity.

"You know what's really insufferable?" his voice was low, almost a growl. "The way you keep running. The way you keep fighting me when we both know exactly how this will end."

Your breath caught in your throat as he came to a stop just inches from you, his body radiating warmth, his presence overwhelming.

"I'm not running," you said, though it sounded more like a whisper than the firm declaration you intended.

His hand reached out, fingers brushing against your jaw, tilting your face up toward him. His touch was light, almost teasing, but it sent a jolt of heat racing through you.

The space between you disappeared in a heartbeat. His lips crashed against yours, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis. The kiss was anything but gentle -wild, desperate, and filled with every bit of frustration and desire that had built up between you.

Your hands found their way to his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt as if it were the only thing grounding you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him, his grip possessive and unrelenting.

It felt better than anything neither of you could've ever imagined. It wasn't just a kiss -it was a battle, a collision of everything you didn't say, everything you'd tried to ignore.

His lips moved against yours with an urgency that made your head spin, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before deepening the kiss. You gasped when he sank his tongue in your mouth, quickly meeting yours at the same time he cornered you on the wall next to the door, his hand gently cupping the back of your head before moving it back to your neck.

You hated him for making you feel this way, for always knowing how to push you to the edge and catch you before you fell.

But at that moment, you couldn't bring yourself to care.

When you finally pulled back, your breaths were ragged, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes searched yours, dark and unreadable, his chest rising and falling in time with yours.

"Say it," Jungkook whispered, his voice rough and breathless. "Say you don't feel anything."

You stayed silent, your lips still tingling from his kiss.

But the way your hands lingered on his chest, the way your body leaned into his, spoke louder than any words ever could.

He took your silence as the perfect answer, smirking to himself before he linked your lips together again. His fingers sank in your hair at the back of your head, twirling them on some locks to pull from them and throw your head to the side as he kissed you down your neck.

"You're absolutely everything I've ever fucking dreamed of" he heavily whispered on your skin. "I want to admire you, worship your body and make love to you so you'd meet a devotion you had never seen in your life. But hell... when you look at me that way..." his thumb brushed over your cheekbone "I want to ruin you so bad, show you no one will fuck you so good to make your ears beep so loud you won't be hearing your own pleas when you ask me to stop".

Your kiss grew more passionate, your breaths coming in ragged gasps, when he kissed you again. His hands began to wander, tracing the curve of your back, the swell of your hips. You could feel the hardness of his body against yours, and it sent a thrill through you, craving for something you didn't know you were desperate for. You moaned softly into his mouth, pressing yourself against him, at the same time his hands held your hips to keep your body glued to him.

Jungkook broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck again, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. You arched my back, a soft sigh escaping your lips, when his fingers brushed against the little skin that was shown off through the cleavage of your dress. It frustrated you, but it also felt so good the way your body responded to his touch without a resistance, your nipples hardening against the fabric of your bra, your entrance clenching around nothing as you kept waiting to feel him inside you.

When he looked down at you once again, his hands moved down to the zip of your dress, his thumb brushing on your skin while his other fingers slid the material down. He didn't need to ask you, he didn't need to tell you, you helped him take off your dress.

His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, his breath hitching. You were definitely better than he could've ever imagined. No light pajamas would ever compare to the vision in front of him.

You reached for the hem of his black shirt, pulling from the buttons to reveal his toned chest. Jungkook had to hold back the growl in his throat when you ran your fingers over the muscles, feeling the heat of his skin, making him sure your fingerprints were burning every inch you were moving through.

He wasn't going to let you take control so easily though.

He lowered his head all of a sudden, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth through the lace of your bra. You gasped, your hands fisting in his hair as a way to control your own self. He teased and suckled, his other hand cupping your breast before he dragged his fingers down with the fabric, exposing the flesh, his thumb rubbing against your nipple before he pinched it with his index. You could feel the wetness pooling between your legs, your body aching for more.

Jungkook slipped the straps of your bra off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. He took his time, exploring every inch of your body with his mouth and hands. He made you squirm beneath him, he filled your head with pleas you never thought would ever be aimed at him, your body was on fire for him.

You reached for his belt, unbuckling it slowly. He lifted his hips to help you, his jeans and boxers coming off in one swift motion. You looked down at him, your eyes widening at the sight of his hard length. He was thick and long, the tip glistening with pre-cum. You licked your lips when a sudden urge to taste him overwhelmed you. Was it how sexy he actually was? Or how bad you wanted him to beg for you and finally accept you were in control? Maybe both?

You leaned down on your knees, not wasting a moment before taking him into your mouth. He groaned, his hands tangling in your hair as your tongue swirled around him. You sucked and licked, your head bobbing up and down at a tortuous speed. You could feel him getting harder, his hips thrusting gently. You took him deeper when he pushed you lower, your nose brushing against his skin to look up to him.

And hell, if that image wasn't the best sight ever...

He pulled you up with one swift motion, your lips still parted to the size of his length when he crashed his lips against yours again. Your back slammed against the door, and your head banged against it the moment he pulled your panties down and slid two fingers in you. His thumb brushed over your clit gently, slowly, which was opposite to the way his curved digits moved and rubbed against your walls.

He earned another moan from you, and his cock twitched in the air against your body once more.

"Who do you belong to, Y/n? Who owns you now?" his voice was thick and raspy as he whispered. His voice was a mix of cockiness and need to prove you always belonged to him.

The moment you tried to move your head forward to rest on his shoulder, his fingers wrapped around your throat and stuck your head against the wood to keep your eyes fixed on him.

You didn't know what to do with your arms, how to keep yourself on your feet, but you did know you had to keep your eyes fixed on him.

"My love" he almost sang when he felt the way your walls clenched around him and your clit throbbing "I've only been yours" his digits squeezed your throat tighter, unaware of how that dragged you closer to your orgasm.

Your body squirmed and folded under his grip when that hurricane hit you, yet he didn't stop. His movements were more delicate and slower, but he fingered you through your orgasm until he felt your breathing settling again.

Your lips were parted when his wet fingers slid through them, and you blindly obeyed, closing your mouth around his digits to lick every drop of his work of art. Jungkook barely gave you time to let go of them before his lips crashed against yours again, his tongue looking out for yours to taste you directly on it.

You were so addictive.

Jungkook picked you up effortlessly, humming at your legs wrapping around his waist, as he made his way to his bedroom.

When he let you down on his mattress, he couldn't help but admire the way your naked skin stood out so clearly while lying over his sheets, dying to twirl his fingers on those locks spread over his pillow. You brought in him a feral attitude he didn't know was so strong.

You looked up to him, eager for what was to come, your body ready to jump as he kneeled on the bed and crawled to you. His hands parted your legs easily, resting your calves on his thighs when he redirected his length to you.

He rubbed the head of his cock against your clit, making your moan. "You're so wet," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "Will you let me fill you up? Hmm?" he looked up to you while still rubbing himself against you "Let me mark you now that you've finally accepted that you're mine".

His words, the idea, the look in his eyes... all of them influenced you to finally nod.

He slid into you slowly, his eyes locked on yours. You gasped, your body stretching to accommodate him. He felt big, bigger than you could've guessed when you took him in your mouth. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, until your hips met and you both moaned with relief.

You stayed like that for a few seconds, giving the two of you time to get used to each other before he began to move, his hips thrusting against yours. The sound of your bodies coming together filled the room, your moans and gasps echoing around you. You could feel every inch of him, the sensation overwhelming.

"You feel so good," he groaned, his forehead resting against yours. "So tight and wet." he rubbed his nose on yours. "It was really worth it to wait for you".

You clung to him, your nails digging into his back. "Harder," you whispered, your body aching for more.

He obliged, his thrusts becoming faster and deeper. The bed creaked beneath you, the sound of your bodies slapping together filling the room. You could feel your orgasm building, your body tensing in anticipation.

He reached between you, his fingers finding your clit at the same time his lips found your mouth. He rubbed it in time with his thrusts, sending you spiraling over the edge. You cried out, your body convulsing around him as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

He continued to move, his own body tensing as he chased his own release. You felt him getting harder, his thrusts becoming more erratic. With a final thrust, he groaned, his body shaking as he came deep inside you, his load hitting a deep spot.

You lay there for a moment, your bodies slick with sweat, your breaths ragged. He rolled off you, pulling you into his arms. And as much as that feeling felt foreign, you didn't push it away. Instead, you snuggled closer to him.

The weeks after that night were nothing like the stormy start of your marriage. Slowly, without even realizing it, you began to lower your defenses. Jungkook softened in his own way, his sharp-edged words losing their sting, replaced by warm glances and lingering touches.

It wasn't love -at least, that's what you told yourself- but it was something dangerously close. You found comfort in his presence, in the late-night conversations you shared after you agreed on sharing bed with him, the stolen moments of laughter, and the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world when he looked at you.

The night he was officially named the head of the company, the entire building was alive with celebration. People congratulated him left and right, raising glasses in his honor, praising his charm, his brilliance, and his unstoppable rise to power. You stood by his side, smiling softly as he greeted his investors and thanked his board.

But despite the glamour, something felt off. Jungkook was different -detached, colder than usual, like the man you first met. He didn't seem to notice your growing unease.

Later that evening, after slipping away for a moment to get some air, you made your way down a quieter hallway in the building. As you rounded a corner, voices stopped you in your tracks.

It was Jungkook's.

"You're really settling into this husband role, huh?" the voice was familiar -Eunwoo's, you realized after a second.

His tone was light and teasing, but it was what came next that made your blood run cold.

Jungkook let out a low chuckle. "Don't get carried away. This marriage means nothing. It was a deal, plain and simple. I finally got what I wanted"

There was a pause, followed by the sound of a glass clinking.

"And the rest?" Eunwoo asked, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "Sleeping with her?"

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart hammering painfully in your chest.

"That's just part of the game," Jungkook said casually, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Keeping her close keeps everything in control. She's predictable now. She's exactly where I need her."

Your vision blurred, your mind racing to process what you'd just heard. Every moment you'd spent with him, every touch, every whispered word in the dark -it had all been a lie. A calculated move in a game you didn't even know you were playing.

The sound of their laughter echoed down the hallway, cutting into you like a blade.

You turned and walked away before they could notice you, your steps quick and unsteady. Your chest ached, a painful mix of anger and heartbreak constricting your lungs.

By the time you reached the main hall, the noise of the party felt like a distant hum, your surroundings spinning as you tried to catch your breath.

You thought you had started to know him. You thought maybe, just maybe, there was something real between you.

But you were wrong.

You were nothing more than a pawn in his game -a game you never agreed to play.

The rest of the night at the party, you avoided him like the plague, your attitude a huge contrast to how you behaved when the night had started. Whenever Jungkook tried to approach you, you found an excuse to step away -chatting with guests, refreshing your drink, even pretending to admire the floral arrangements like they were the most fascinating thing in the world.

"Y/n" his voice caught you off guard as you lingered near the exit, your hand brushing the stem of an untouched champagne flute. Jungkook's dark eyes studied you, his brow furrowed in concern. "What's going on? You've been distant all night."

"I'm just tired," you said flatly, forcing a tight smile. "It's been a long day."

His frown deepened, but he didn't press further. Not yet.

The ride home was quiet -tense in a way that made the air between you feel suffocating. Jungkook sat beside you, his eyes occasionally flicking toward you, as if waiting for you to explain what was wrong. But you kept your gaze fixed out the window, your thoughts swirling in chaos.

Once you were back home, you made a beeline for the stairs, wanting nothing more than to put distance between you as you closed yourself back in your room.

"Y/n" his voice was sharp now, demanding. You stopped halfway up the stairs, your hand gripping the banister tightly. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

You turned slowly, meeting his gaze. The man you had once started to trust, the one who had held you so tenderly just nights ago, now felt like a stranger.

"I want a divorce."

The words fell from your lips with a finality that hung heavy in the air.

Jungkook froze, his eyes widening for a split second before narrowing dangerously. "What did you just say?"

"You heard me," you said, your voice calm despite the storm raging inside you. "You finally got what you wanted. You're head of the company now. There's no need to keep up this farce anymore."

His jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "Is that what you think? That this was all just some business arrangement, and now it's over?"

"Isn't it?" you shot back, your voice rising. "You've gotten everything you wanted, Jungkook. There's no point in pretending anymore."

"You're unbelievable," he growled, stepping closer. "You want to throw everything away just like that? After everything we've been through?"

You laughed bitterly. "What exactly have we been through, Jungkook? Lies? Manipulation? This marriage was never real. It was just a means to an end for you."

His eyes darkened, his lips pressing into a thin line. "And what if it wasn't?"

You crossed your arms, refusing to let him sway you. "It doesn't matter. I'm done."

"You're not done," he said, his voice low and dangerously calm. "You don't get to decide that impulsively."

"It's not an impulse," you snapped. "This was part of our deal since the beginning. I've made up my mind."

Jungkook's eyes burned with fury, but beneath it, there was something else -something raw and unguarded. "And when exactly did you make up your mind about it, huh?" he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I think it's better for both of us," you said, ignoring the way your heart clenched at the look in his eyes.

But Jungkook wasn't having it. His hand gripped the banister beside you, his body blocking your path. "No," he said firmly. "We're not done. Not until I say we are. And you're not leaving," Jungkook said, his voice steady but barely restrained, his body now fully blocking your path. His gaze locked onto yours, fierce and unrelenting.

"Move, Jungkook," you said through gritted teeth, trying to push past him. "I'm done having this conversation."

His hand shot out, gripping your wrist -not hard, but firm enough to keep you from walking away. "No. We're going to finish this right here"

You glared at him, your pulse racing. "What's the point? You made it clear I was just a means to an end. Now that you're head of the company, what reason is there for us to stay married?"

"Because this isn't just about the company!" Jungkook snapped, his voice rising, frustration boiling over. His chest heaved with each breath, and for the first time, he looked genuinely unhinged, like he was losing control of everything he'd carefully built.

You yanked your wrist free, your eyes burning with unshed tears. "Then what is it about? What part of this marriage was real to you? Tell me!"

His silence was deafening. His jaw clenched, his eyes searching your face for something -anything. But no words came.

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest, and you laughed bitterly, shaking your head. "Exactly. You can't even answer that."

Jungkook's eyes darkened, his frustration tipping into something dangerously possessive. "You really want to know what's real?" he said, stepping closer until there was barely an inch of space between you. "You." his voice was low, his eyes burning into yours. "Every damn second with you was real"

But for some reason, those words that night felt like the most painful stab at your chest. If there was something clear to you that night, it was that Jungkook never really cared for you, but his own control over you. That idea alone made your head spin, trying to decipher if all of his words in that moment were part of the act as well.

His proximity sent a jolt of heat through you, but you refused to back down. "Words mean nothing, Jungkook. Actions do."

"Then watch me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Before you could say another word, his lips crashed against yours in a kiss that stole your breath. It wasn't soft or sweet -it was raw and consuming, a war between his frustration and desire. His hand cupped the back of your neck, holding you in place as his lips moved against yours with an urgency that made your head spin.

You tried to fight it, to remind yourself of everything you'd just overheard, but your body betrayed you. Your hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer even as your mind screamed at you to push him away.

His tongue swept across your bottom lip, coaxing a soft gasp from you, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. It felt like drowning, like falling too fast and too far, and you hated how easily he could unravel you.

When he finally pulled back, your hand slapped across his face, making it turn. He stayed in that position for a few seconds, until he finally moved his head back up, his eyes searching yours, dark and unreadable. "You think I don't care?" he whispered, his voice hoarse. "You're wrong."

Your heart thundered in your chest, and for a fleeting moment, you believed him. You believed every word, every touch. But the sting of his earlier betrayal still lingered, refusing to let go.

"I can't do this," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Not like this".

Not when you couldn't trust him, or know what he was saying was real or not. Not knowing when he was playing with you or showing off his feelings.

It was too much.

Jungkook's grip on you tightened, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Yes, you can. You're not leaving."

"I don't want to be near you" you let go of his grip once again. "You disgust me. I can't even stand being near you right now. Who knows? Maybe it had always been like that and now that the reason that kept us together is gone I can be honest with the two of us. Be honest with yourself, too".

The next afternoon, sunlight streamed through the kitchen windows, casting a warm glow across the marble countertops. You sat at the kitchen island, quietly picking at your lunch, your mind still tangled in the events of the previous night. Sleep had been elusive -every word, every touch, every kiss replaying in your head on an endless loop.

You were lost in thought when the sound of the front door slamming snapped you back to reality. Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall, growing louder until Jungkook appeared in the doorway, his expression dark and unreadable.

Without a word, he reached into his coat and pulled out a stack of papers. He strode over to you and threw them onto the counter in front of you, the crisp white pages fanning out across the surface.

Your heart stopped for a second as you glanced down at them: "Divorce Agreement". Signed.

"You wanted this, right?" Jungkook said, his voice cold and biting. "There. You've got it. Congratulations, you're free."

You looked up at him, stunned into silence, your fork frozen in mid-air. His eyes were like shards of ice, his usual warmth completely gone. He looked almost... victorious, but underneath it, you could sense something else, some of his vulnerability was still obvious in his eyes.

"Jungkook, I..."

"You don't need to say anything" he interrupted, his voice dangerously calm. "You made it clear last night that this marriage means nothing to you. So, I'm giving you what you want. No more pretending. No more games."

Your chest tightened, and for a moment, you struggled to find your voice. "You think this is what I want?" you finally said, your voice trembling.

"Isn't it?" he shot back, his eyes narrowing. "You were the one who asked for the divorce. I'm just making it easy for you."

You swallowed hard, your throat burning. "You're unbelievable."

Jungkook crossed his arms, leaning against the counter with a bitter smirk. "No, what's unbelievable is that you think you can just walk in and out of my life whenever you want. You're the one who pushed me away, Y/n. I'm just giving you the freedom you begged for."

"Don't you dare act like you're some kind of victim here," you snapped, rising to your feet. "You lied to me, acting like you cared, like you were into me. You said you were after me long before all of this happened... Bullshit! You used me for your business, just like you admitted to Eunwoo. But I was dumb as fuck to believe we were more than that".

His eyes flickered with something -surprise, perhaps, or regret- but it was gone in an instant, replaced by that same infuriating calm. "So, that's what this is about," he muttered. "You overhear one conversation, twist it in your head, and suddenly I'm the villain?"

"I didn't twist anything," you said, your voice shaking. "I heard exactly what you said. That I'm just a pawn in your game. That sleeping with me was just part of your plan. Hope you enjoyed the bit of control you had while you fucked me."

Jungkook laughed, but it was a hollow, bitter sound. "You really think that's all you are to me?"

"Isn't it?" you challenged, your heart pounding so hard it hurt. "Tell me I'm wrong."

The silence that followed was deafening. His jaw clenched, his eyes searching yours for a long, agonizing moment. Then, slowly, he stepped back, his expression hardening.

"You already made up your mind," he said quietly. "So what's the point in convincing you otherwise?"

Your breath caught in your throat, tears stinging your eyes. You wanted to scream at him, to demand answers, to tear down the walls he had so carefully built around himself in less than a few days. But instead, all you could do was stand there, your heart breaking all over again.

"Fine," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "If that's how you want it."

He nodded once, his face devoid of emotion. "It's what you wanted, remember?"

Annoyed, you reached for a pen, signing up the papers next to him, slamming it against the table before getting up and walking away, leaving the papers on the counter in front of him. The sound of the front door slamming shut echoed through the house, and for the first time since the start of your marriage, you felt truly alone.

#armpirate #fanfic #ff #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkookxreader #jk #bts #wattpad #kookie #smut #jungkook smut #reader insert #one shot #jungkooksmut #jksmut #jk smut #arranged marriage au

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jungshookz · 2 months ago

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taehyung’s gotten really beefy and y/n feels like a hormonal teenager

➺ pairing; roommate!taehyung x roommate!y/n

➺ genre; roomie!taehyungiverse!! honk honk humour!! a little sprinkle of smut because it would be illegal to write about beefy taehyung and not talk about his bulging biceps WOOF WOOF y/n is a lucky girl i need himbo gymrat taehyung so bad

➺ wordcount; 2.5k

➺ summary; over the last few weeks, taehyung’s noticed that you’ve been particularly jittery and nervous around him and he can’t figure out why… after one of his usual morning workouts, he decides to finally confront you about it and your answer is more than satisfying to him.

➺ what to expect; “wait, so you’re telling me the only reason why you’ve been acting so strange these last few weeks is because you think i’m… sexy?”

➺ currently playing on cee.fm; hey daddy (daddy’s home) — usher

»»————- 🏋🏻‍♂️ ————-««

you’re not sure when taehyung decided to go on a new health journey, but it feels like you’ve blinked and watched your boyfriend go from just some handsome guy that you’re in love with to this muscular, gym-crazy man who loves protein shakes and asking for extra chicken at chipotle (who you’re still very much in love with, let’s be clear that nothing’s changed about that) and suddenly has the ability to do like 100 pull-ups without getting tired

“ugh, fuck-“ taehyung grunts as he does his last push up (this is his fourth set, so technically he just did 300 pushups with no problem), getting up from the ground and twisting his upper body from side to side before putting his phone in between his lips, peeling his damp wife-beater tank off and tossing it on the ground

lately he’s been working out in the morning before starting his day and it’s honestly been such a great change — he feels super pumped for the day ahead and completely reinvigorated

and getting his workout done in the morning means he doesn’t have to worry about it for the rest of the day!

he went for a run around the neighbourhood early this morning, and then came home to finish off with some calisthenics

and now he’s gonna do a little cool-down stretch and hit the shower

he hums to himself as he adjusts his wired earbuds, usher’s hey daddy (daddy’s home) making him bop his head — maybe it’s a little douchey of him to be listening to this song while he’s working out but he can’t help that it’s a good ass song

he slips his phone into the back pocket of his grey sweatpants before reaching for the bottle of water, twisting the cap off and lifting the bottle to chug half of it down

“…good lord.” you mutter to yourself, staring at your boyfriend shamelessly from the kitchen as your jaw goes slack

oh yeah — you’re here, too, by the way

you’ve been here the whole time

you watched him do all 300 pushups and you counted

and now your coffee is cold because you can’t multitask and you couldn’t focus on gawking at your boyfriend and drinking your coffee at the same time

taehyung didn’t notice when you slipped past him earlier to head to the kitchen (and honestly, you didn’t want to bother him mid-workout because you know that you hate it when people interrupt your flow) and you’re pretty sure he still hasn’t noticed you, but you’re fine with that because you’d rather he be unaware of your presence than know that you’ve been creeping on him for the last twenty minutes or so

you don’t mean to stare, you really don’t, but… how can you not stare at him in his shirtless, sweaty glory like that?

your mouth goes dry and you swallow thickly when he turns around, his back muscles flexing slightly

and since when did he have such bulging veins in his biceps?!

your eyes trail down the wide expanse of his glistening back and you immediately get flashbacks from the other night when you had your nails digging into his shoulder blades, your hands sliding down to his lower back as he pushed himself into-

“good morning, sexy-“ you’re snapped out of your thoughts when tae delivers a slap to your bare ass as he passes by and you immediately grip onto your mug harder, letting out a nervous chuckle, “you’re finally up!”

“yeah, i-“ your voice cracks and you clear your throat before shrugging, reaching down to pull your shirt down a little to cover your ass, “it’s whatever, i’m cool.” your brows immediately furrow in confusion at your own words

…what?

what are you even saying?

see, something else you’ve noticed that’s happened since taehyung decided that he wanted to go on a run every morning at 5am and come home completely JACKED is that you’ve started feeling nervous around him and you have no idea why

the both of you have been together for five years (and seven months) and somehow you’ve reverted to some lovestruck teenager who giggles at everything

in fact, you feel like how you felt when you first met taehyung when he came to see you about your open roommate application — very intimidated by how handsome he was and hoping that he thought you were cool enough to hang out with

“did you want some of my smoothie, baby? i can already tell this batch might have a little more than usual…” taehyung hums, his tongue poking out from in between his lips as he measures out his double chocolate protein powder, dumping two full scoops into the blender, “could you get the blueberries from the freezer for me?”

“smoothie?” you clear your throat, nodding and setting your mug down, “uh, yeah! blueberries.” you turn around, pulling the freezer drawer open and pulling out the large ziploc of frozen blueberries before shaking your head to yourself to snap out of your funk

smoothie? uh, yeah, blueberries! you mock yourself internally — you are literally incapable of forming full sentences, it feels like you’ve got a bunch of marbles rolling around in your mouth

and he needs to put a shirt on or something because he’s starting to get those toned v-lines that taper down nicely when he wears his sweatpants low on his hips

you didn’t even know those muscles existed

“so did you want some? it’s okay if you don’t, i guess i could drink it all, the extra protein will be good-“

“uh, yeah! i’ll have some.” you nod, setting your mug down and turning to get a cup for yourself

taehyung turns the blender on and the kitchen is immediately filled with the obnoxious, grating sound of ZZzhzhhZHHZHHHHHhHhZHzh but you’re actually glad the space between you is being filled up with that

otherwise you’d have to make conversation with him

and in your current state, you are completely helpless

you watch as he reaches up to slick his damp hair back, leaning back a little to check and make sure all the ingredients are being blended up nice and smooth

it just feels like he’s moving in slow-motion and you… you…

see you just lost your train of thought

THAT’S how bad it’s been

taehyung glances up at you briefly from where he’s standing at the opposite end of the kitchen island, noticing that you’ve seemed to space out again

he has no idea what your deal has been for the last couple of weeks — he doesn’t think anything is necessarily wrong between the two of you, and if there’s a problem he knows you’re more than capable of bringing it up with him and talking it out

but at the same time, something is wrong because you’ve been unusually quiet and every time he tries to make conversation it feels like you don’t know how to speak like a normal human being

like earlier when he said good morning and that you were finally up and you responded with “it’s whatever, i’m cool”

it’s whatever, i’m cool

what the hell was that?!

or the other night when he asked you if you wanted to join him in the shower and you let out the most nervous, high-pitched laugh before practically sprinting away to the kitchen and saying something about needing to wash the dishes

…is it him? are you not physically attracted to him anymore?

that can’t be it, either… you guys had sex the other night and you were very vocal (you guys actually got a noise complaint from a neighbour but he never told you because he knew you’d be embarrassed and never want to have sex ever again, and to be honest, he’s just planning on putting his hand over your mouth the next time you fuck — easy fix!)

“okay, what’s wrong with you?” taehyung asks as soon as he turns the blender off, and you look up from the counter with wide eyes, “you’ve been so jittery with me for the last few weeks and i cannot figure out why, for the life of me. if you’re up to something shady, you might as well tell me now and-“

“what?” your eyelashes flutter in surprise and you let out a snort, his crazy accusation immediately sobering you up, “i promise you i am not up to anything shady, in fact, i’m kind of offended you even had that thought-“

“oh, thank god. you’re speaking like a normal human being, i finally fixed you-“ taehyung sighs, blowing a puff of air out as he pops the blender lid off, dipping his finger into the smoothie before bringing it up to his lips for a taste

“you have got to be kidding me.” you murmur to yourself, watching as some of the smoothie drips from his finger onto his toned abdomen

he swipes it off before sucking it off his finger with a satisfied hum

“you’re a freak!” you blurt out, “oh my god, you are such a freak and it’s like you do these things that i feel like are on purpose but-“

“what are you talking about??”

“i’m talking about- i just-“ you stumble over your words, letting out a groan when you find yourself being unable to form a sentence again

you pause for a second, shaking your head before composing yourself and painting a nice, pleasant smile on your face, “you… you… are you… are you aware of how ripped you’ve become?”

“what?” taehyung laughs in disbelief, his eyes flickering off to the side, “i mean… i know i’ve definitely bulked up a little, i wouldn’t say i’m ripped-“

“you have no idea how hard it is to not throw myself at you every single second of every single day — i mean, i love you and i’m attracted to you no matter what you look like but there’s just something so satisfying about biting into your firm, firm bicep,” you make your way over to taehyung before jabbing a finger into his arm, “like, are you telling me this is all muscle?!”

“i mean-“ taehyung looks down before flexing his arm, making his bicep pop out, “yeah, i guess so. wait, so you’re telling me the only reason why you’ve been acting so strange these last few weeks is because you think i’m… sexy?”

“you have been walking around all shirtless and sweaty with grey goddamn sweatpants so low on your hips that you’re basically naked, this is not on me!” you gawk, eyes widening when taehyung suddenly rounds the corner to get closer to you, “what are you- what are you doing?”

“nothing! we’re having a conversation, aren’t we?” the corner of his mouth twitches in a smirk as he continues walking you back until you’ve found yourself bumped up against the counter, your hands immediately fumbling to grip onto the edges to keep balanced, “oh, what’s wrong, baby? do i make you nervous?” he coos, using his pointer finger to raise your chin and forcing you to look at him before setting both his hands down on the counter and effectively trapping you in

“you-“ your voice cracks and you feel your face getting hotter (again, not sure why because you’ve been dating this man for five years, but maybe it’s a good sign that after all this time you still get super hot and bothered being around him — the spark is still very much alive!), “you don’t make me nervous, that’s ridiculous.”

“oh, don’t i?” taehyung tilts his head, sliding a finger up the side of your bare thigh and smiling to himself when he feels goosebumps starting to prickle at your skin, “you know, it’s funny that you’re scolding me for walking around shirtless in my own home when you’re the one constantly walking around in skimpy little g-strings. how do you think i feel, having to keep myself from bending you over every single surface in this apartment and just pushing your panties to the side?” he asks, voice light as he uses his pinky to brush a strand of hair away from your eyes

“i imagine you probably feel… not… good…” you murmur, crossing your arms over your chest and keeping your chin raised in an attempt to appear as calm and collected as possible

“you don’t have to be nervous around me, honey,” taehyung leans down, and you’re as still as can be when he brushes his lips over yours before starting to plant light kisses along your jaw, “you know i love you and for the record, i think you’re incredibly sexy all the time…” he takes your hand and places it on his firm abdomen before sliding it down, and your thighs squeeze together upon feeling the ridges of his abs

and maybe now isn’t a good time to be thinking this but you can’t help but feel good about the fact that taehyung still thinks you’re sexy — it’s giving you the little ego boost you’ve been needing and- I NEED TO SUCK HIS DICK

okay JESUS

your eyes shoot open at the sudden uncharacteristically graphic intrusive thought and you immediately push taehyung away from you, keeping him at arm’s length

“wh- what’s wrong?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, “did i say someth-“

“i need to suck your dick.” you interrupt, staring at him with a neutral expression on your face

“what?” he lets out a laugh, “i mean, yes, obviously i want that but-“

“you need to be quiet now.”

taehyung swallows thickly when he watches you drop to the ground in front of him, staring at him in a way he’s never seen before

oh, jesus.

»»————- 🏋🏻‍♂️ ————-««

“tae-“ you whimper, dropping your forehead on his shoulder as he presses himself into you, a shaky breath slipping past his lips when he feels you clench up around him, “a-agh…”

“jesus, your pussy always feels so good…” he mutters under his breath, looking down to watch himself pull out slightly before pushing back in all the way, smiling to himself when you whimper and ask him to please, please fuck me-

(needless to say, you guys ended up with another noise complaint. whoops.)

🎙️ ask taehyung for the recipe to his 70g protein smoothie (talk to my characters!)

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (go say hi to yoongi and y/n in la vie en bonsai!)

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series like this!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!)

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creelson · 7 months ago

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[Famous Boyband] x Y/N Wattpad Styled fic, where Y/N describes in 1st person POV how fragile she is and how hard her life is before the boyband of her dream comes and rescues her, NEVER disappoints, not even in the year of our lord 2024

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cinnaminsvga · 1 year ago

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Harana | Jungkook

harana (n.): the act of wooing someone by serenading them

→ summary:

Unwilling to settle down with you after five years of dating, Jeon Jungkook decides to break up to chase after his dreams. In the aftermath, you leave your hometown, desperate to forget your past and relearn what it means to be on your own. Two years later while on your way to work, you pass by a familiar voice singing songs about a girl he had left behind.

{or alternatively: Jungkook still sings the love songs that he wrote for you. He still means them, too.}

→ genre: busker!au, exes to lovers, angst, humor → warnings: jimin is insane and kinda crude (he has some issues going on), jungkook is a pathetic wet bunny but he's trying his best, oc has So Many Problems, so much arguing and yearning, ambiguous ending??? but my god there is hope!! the humanity of it all!! → words: 16.1K → a/n: HOLY SHIT IM BACK (kinda) and happy new year!! yeah ok its march but im relearning how to form coherent sentences so be patient ;w; this is the first installment of my hfoh series that i teased a LONG time ago... i made it a resolution to complete this series by the end of the year before i kms (Keep Myself Safe) so here's to a brand new year :D (oh god @ universe pls be kind)

part of the “heart full of hugot” series

Two days before the incident, your shower nozzle decides to explode.

Okay, you have to admit that statement is a little misleading. Shower nozzles, in all its nonsentience, do not randomly decide to explode no matter how much you try to defend yourself to your landlord. Maybe your grip had been a little too harsh that morning, or maybe hanging 5 pounds of hair products on the handle had been a bit too much for the old sport to handle. Or maybe, just maybe, the universe was warning you about the incident.

Whatever it was, it doesn’t erase the fact that your shower would be out of commission for the next week or so (though your landlord seems adamant about prolonging your suffering as long as possible). Until then, you’re going to have to find some other ways to keep the grease and grime from building on you. Heavens know that you already have a thriving ecosystem living in the back of your couch—you don’t need another one growing under your armpits.

Lucky for you, you have friends. More importantly, you have friends who have showers. There is one problem though—all your friends live on the other side of the country.

It’s been two years since you moved to the Big City™️, but you have done little to grow your social network. Call it introversion or depression, either way, you have no more contacts on your phone than you did when you left your hometown. Well, except for one person, if you could even consider him one. Frankly, you didn’t have a choice.

“Welcome to my humble abode, stinky,” Jimin greets you as you enter his house. Your nose is instantly assaulted by the smell of Bath & Body Works® Sweet Pea, reminding you once more why you didn’t consider him a friend.

“Hey,” you reply gruffly, shucking your ratty shoes near his entrance. Your shoes look incredibly out of place amidst the sea of designer Chelsea boots and a singular pair of thigh-high heels. You take a glance at his living room, already feeling worse about yourself tenfold.

You had met Park Jimin by complete accident, much like how his mother probably felt when she first saw him too. You had never known anyone quite as… interesting as him, to put it lightly.

When you got your job as a hostess for a luxury bar and restaurant, you figured you wouldn’t make many friends with your coworkers. Everyone was so… pretty, but in the shiny, untouchable sort of way. Almost all of the servers were as gorgeous as the models you’d see in magazines. You hadn’t known that the owners only hired a certain “demographic” of people for their restaurant, and you were equal parts flattered and disgusted that you’d somehow made it (though you suppose your bullshitting skills were all to thank).

Unsurprisingly, even the bartenders were gorgeous, including one Park Jimin. He did have an aura to him that screamed “I’m a cut above the rest and I know it,” but that could just be the gold chains dripping down his neck. You almost mistook him as one of the patrons who mistakenly made his way behind the bar, and knowing the sort of clientele you’ve had to deal with so far, you wouldn’t have been surprised. It took a couple of weeks before you finally found out who he was (and what his fucking problem was).

Jimin was a part-time bartender with a full-time job as a bitch a self-made entrepreneur. Which is to say, he sold… tasteful photos of himself on the internet. You had nothing against his line of work. In fact, you would go far as to say you didn’t give a shit what he did outside of your shared workspace. But if there’s one thing Jimin is, it’s that he hates being ignored.

So when you were adamant about not oohing and aahing at everything that makes Park Jimin perfect, he made it his self-appointed mission to befriend you. Or at least that’s what he claims, but given how he treats you lesser than the shit that cakes his cheeks, you have a lot of doubts. Perhaps he’s never made an effort to make a friend, hence his inexperience with being a decent human being. Or perhaps he’s just an asshole, but who is to say? The point is: he’s the only person you knew in this godforsaken city who would likely allow you to use his shower without being awkward about it and that’s that.

The worst part about being an acquaintance with Park Jimin was that he lived in the richest area of Downtown but he wasn’t old money, that’s for sure. His entire essence screamed overconsumption, and his myriad of little trinkets littered across his apartment confirmed your previous assessment. You wouldn’t be surprised if you opened his freezer and found ten types of ice sorted assorted by color and shape like the extra bitch that he was.

He made his money through sheer force, and it would have impressed you if he wasn’t, you know. Him.

“Bathroom is over there. I placed a towel and other shower amenities that you can borrow,” he says pointing to a door with a large “FART ZONE: ENTER WITH CAUTION” sign taped to it. You don’t ask.

“Thanks,” you say flatly. You wait patiently for his out-of-pocket comment.

Like clockwork, Jimin smirks. “Sure thing. I gave you the super heavy-duty stuff. Figured you’d burn a hole through my expensive towels with how stinky you are, with your yeasty cu—”

“Aaaand I’ll be done in a few minutes. Thanks again Jimin,” you interrupt, making your way to the bathroom and slamming the door with as much force as you can muster. You hear something fall as the door shuts, and you vaguely hear Jimin mutter something about his “fart zone” signage.

You begin to prepare your shower routine, humming lowly as you go about your business. You try to ignore the suffocating scent of ten million diffusers entering your nostrils, wondering for the umpteenth time if Jimin is suffering from long-term olfactory dysfunction.

“Focus, Y/N. The quicker you shower, the quicker you can get the fuck out of here,” you whisper to yourself. However, in your haste, you knock over Jimin’s towel by accident. When the towel falls, a sheet of sandpaper slips out from underneath it, and you stare bemusedly until it finally hits you.

“YOU ARE SUCH A LITTLE BITCH!”

From behind the door, you can hear Jimin’s infamous cackle. “Did you find the loofah? I got it just for you, darling!” he shouts back through his laughter, and you just grumble back in response. How on earth no one has strangled him to death, you have no idea.

“Whatever. I’m gonna shower now! Go beat off or whatever the fuck you do in your spare time,” you grouse, stripping as quickly as possible.

When the first droplets of water hit your body, you can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. You had both anticipated and dreaded going to Jimin’s house, but you desperately needed the shower. So you go through your routine, trying to find some semblance of relaxation throughout the process. However, it seems that Jimin was yearning for a little bit of attention as he chose to recline on the other side of the door and chat your ear off. Peace was never an option, it seems.

“Hey, Y/N! So why haven’t I seen you at work recently?” Jimin hollers from his living room. Despite the wall separating you, his voice manages to retain its volume.

You squirt a large glob of Jimin’s (expensive) conditioner onto your hands. “What do you mean? I go to work every day. You were the one who hasn’t been clocking in.”

You can hear Jimin scoff. “Um, correction! I went to work last Friday, which so happened to be your day off. If I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed you were avoiding me.”

And right you are, you think. But instead, you say, “Yeah, what a coincidence. I’ll be back to my regular schedule on Monday, though.”

“So that means you didn’t see the Justin Bieber wannabe stationed outside the restaurant then?” Jimin asks, voice miffed. “The guy suddenly sat down by the entrance window and a whole damn crowd started to appear! The absolute nerve of these people—don’t they know Park Jimin was just past the doors?”

This provokes Jimin to go on his long epic soliloquy, which you’ve learned to drown out over the past two years. He could go on hour-long tirades if he wanted, and any interruption from you would just bounce off his nonfunctioning ears. And so, you allow his voice to fall to the back of your mind, similar to white noise if it wasn’t so grating.

However, this was likely your greatest mistake. If you hadn’t been so exhausted, or if Park Jimin hadn’t been so damn annoying all the time, or if the stars had aligned just right… Maybe you would have been forewarned about the incident. It’s as if the universe was screaming at you to pay attention, but alas… You were standing on the proverbial highway, unbeknownst to the incoming traffic because you had your metaphorical AirPods on.

So there you are, completely showered but none the wiser to your impending doom, naively looking to the future with unsuspecting eyes. Even if you had known of what was to come, would avoiding it even be possible? In hindsight, you suppose not, but you still kick yourself for being so blind. If only you’d steeled your heart, then maybe you wouldn’t have felt like vomiting in front of a crowd of innocent bystanders the very next day.

xxx

Monday comes and your shower still isn’t fixed. Jimin makes the benevolent gesture of allowing you to use his shower in the meantime, though you’ll only partake in his offer as minimally as possible. He does mention that he’ll need at least an hour’s notice, warning you about “accidental voyeurism.” You shudder to think of what sort of horror you might find if you did visit him without warning, and you pray for the continued well-being of your retinas.

On your way to work, you’re too busy watching cute videos of animals to notice the unusual flock of people idling close to your workplace. When you get closer, however, the growing commotion is enough to rip your gaze away from your phone, and the sight of the large crowd makes you stop in your tracks.

It is 4 pm and the usual line of waiting patrons should not start piling up for another three hours, so this confuses you more than anything. You shuffle closer, squinting at the crowd until you notice that they aren’t lined up at all; instead, they have congregated into a large circle, but you are too far to see what they are surrounding.

An accident? You worry, wondering if something terrible happened. You tiptoe above the heads of people, subtly moving forward to take a better look. Curse you and your curiosity. You take a deep breath, bracing yourself to see something grotesque or astonishing, but instead…

It’s worse.

Inching closer, you can begin to hear a soft thrumming of a guitar and a gentle singing voice that causes alarm bells to ring in your ears. The warm melody digs up old memories of a time long past: of ballads sung outside your childhood bedroom window, of promises whispered under Spiderman sheets, of tender caresses tucking stray hairs behind your ears… They flood your senses, but all you can feel is dread.

It can’t be who you think it is. You accidentally elbow a guy on your way to get closer, unsteadying his grip on his phone.

“Hey, watch it! I’m filming a totally not-staged TikTok over here!” He yells, but you can hardly pay attention to him when you feel unnaturally drawn to come closer, still.

You’re nearly at the front, with just a couple of teenagers standing between you and the (not-so) mysterious street performer. But the distance is enough, and your breath catches. You can see him—

Black hair partially hidden under a bucket hat. Boots bigger than Pangaea and a pair of eyes equally as large. Dark ink snaking down his arms, peeking out from under oversized sleeves. Piercings that could rival Park Jimin on a good day. He isn’t facing you, but you can still see his big doe eyes, gentle sloping nose, and pretty lips stretched into a handsome smile.

Your heart is thundering in your chest. This can’t be happening, you panic. After two whole years of rebuilding and reshaping yourself, relearning how to be yourself and not… not just his girlfriend.

Jeon Jungkook stands before you, busking in front of your workplace of all locations. The universe could not have been any crueler to you.

You—you had been known as nothing more than Jeon Jungkook’s high school sweetheart. Buried memories of snide comments from jealous teen girls fill your mind, reminding you of the time when you were coined a simple side piece to the main attraction. Decor, as they would call you. Nothing more than a girl who happened to snag Jungkook before people realized he was going to turn… hot. A hot guy who could sing. An inevitable chic magnet, as they would call him.

And now, years later after much therapy and soul searching, your worst nightmare is standing in front of you in the flesh. This is what you will eventually dub the incident.

At that moment, however, there is little to no time to dwell on naming this ongoing core memory. All you can feel is the adrenaline pumping through your veins, as well as the nausea rising up your throat. You stumble backward, blatantly shoving onlookers away as you struggle to find some air to breathe. In hindsight, you probably should have backed away as subtly as possible, but you hope that your dyed hair might be different enough that Jungkook wouldn’t know it was you if he had glanced your way.

Even when you stagger towards your work establishment, the walls cannot perfectly muffle his soothing singing. You can’t make out the lyrics to his song too well, but his unmistakable voice is hard to ignore. Working as a hostess, your station is also coincidentally as close to the door as possible for maximum torture.

This can’t get any worse, you think as your mind races with conflicting emotions. You thought you had moved on, thought you were past the pain and the memories, but seeing Jungkook again, unexpectedly, stirs up a storm of feelings you thought were buried deep. Anger, hurt, betrayal—all rush to the surface, threatening to overwhelm you.

But there is no time to unpack all that baggage right now. Time will continue to march on, and your job is still on the line. How can you have the time to have a mental breakdown when you were still living paycheck to paycheck?

But even as you try to push Jungkook out of your mind, his voice echoes in your ears, his image burned into your memory. It's as if the universe is laughing at your misery, reminding you that despite all your supposed growth, you are still just you.

Painfully and pathetically you.

As you struggle to pull yourself together, a familiarly loud voice rings outside the edge of your consciousness. “Hey, Y/N! Fancy seeing you here…” Jimin greets you, his usual jovial demeanor halting midway when he sees your panicked expression. He clears his throat, perplexed. “Umm… Are you alright there, girl? You’re looking a little pale.”

You do not even have the mental capacity to wonder why Park Jimin was miraculously early to his shift, nor why he seems genuinely worried for you. Rather, all you can do is wave him off and use what little time you have before the restaurant opens to steel yourself for hours of melodious torture.

“I’m fine, Park. You should get to work,” you grit out, wiping your sweaty palms on your uniform. Normally, Jimin would have teased you about the obvious wrinkles on your skirt.

“You’re not the boss of me,” Jimin huffs, always the contrarian. He thinks better of it, however, and softens his tone. “Are you feeling sick or something? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

You freeze, perhaps giving yourself away a little. “I’m fine,” you repeat.

“You know, if you refuse to elaborate, I’m going to have to retract your shower privileges,” Jimin taunts with a smirk.

You feel a migraine growing by your temple, making you wince. God, why must men be the source of all your problems?

“I’m just… a little annoyed by the busker outside the restaurant,” you eventually admit, trying to be vague. Unfortunately for you, Jimin hates beating around the bush and would never take your crap if he knows something is up.

Unable to withstand the weight of his unimpressed stare, you clarify, “He was someone I used to know, that’s all.” You aren’t going to be any more specific than that, though you imagine Jimin gets the picture. You zip your lips, hoping to whoever is causing you pain that Jimin would somehow let the matter drop and leave you to your misery.

You brace yourself for his onslaught of questioning to come, and… it doesn’t happen. Instead, when you glance at Jimin, he is mysteriously stone faced. You wait for him to speak for what feels like a few minutes, but he doesn’t show any signs of wanting to tease or ridicule you. He simply watches you with a pensive expression. You can barely stop yourself from staring back at him, slack-jawed at his silence.

Of course, you aren’t just going to question your luck, or what little you have at least. So, you stay silent back and fidget uncomfortably.

Finally, Jimin seems to snap out of his strange reverie. He fixes you with a bizarrely sympathetic grin, patting you affectionately on the back. “I see… Well, if you ever need a drink tonight, head over to the bar for a little sip. I got you covered,” is all he says in response before sashaying away.

That was so fucking weird. You want to chase after him, perhaps beat the truth out of him. Jimin is nothing but a scheming dick, and you aren’t about to let him roam free with such sensitive information about yourself. Just as you’re about to stomp his ass (perhaps to relieve some of the building tension from your weary soul), your manager pops his head from his office door.

“Y/N! Make sure you’re logged into the booking system. There’s going to be a party of 20 coming in about an hour,” he reminds you, shooting you an apologetic look. You nod back with a sigh, swiping the booking tablet from the hostess desk and scrolling through the logs. Sure enough, it is going to be a busy night despite being a Monday evening. Perhaps a little busier than usual, in fact.

Whatever. You will use whatever distraction you can get, and perhaps the approaching noise from the restaurant patrons will be enough to drown out the sound of his voice.

You aren’t religious by any means, but you pray to whatever higher power exists that Jeon Jungkook doesn’t somehow decide to enter the restaurant. Stay outside, you plead. Outside the restaurant and your life, if possible.

Throughout the evening, you do your best to push aside the memories that threaten to resurface. You greet customers with a smile, lead them to their tables, and ensure their dining experience is pleasant despite the anxiety poisoning your insides. It's a routine you've perfected over time, a shield against the chaos of your emotions.

As the night wears on, you can feel Jimin's eyes on you from across the restaurant. You sneak glances back at him, and you blanch at his pitying gaze. If the restaurant had been slightly less crowded, you would have flipped him off.

He’s probably enjoying my suffering, you think darkly. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction, you straighten up and do your best to appear more unaffected. Just as you do so, you can hear Jungkook perfectly hitting a soulful high note.

“I’m so sorry for thinking I was strong,” you whisper to the universe. “Forgive me for my insolence.” You clench your fist in anguish, ignoring the confused looks from the customers in front of you.

By the time your shift comes to a close, you are completely and utterly drained. You feel like a snail that has been continuously salted over the past eight hours, and you cannot help but cheer in relief when the clock finally strikes two in the morning. You have to wait for the last few diners to make their leave, but otherwise you are ready to let your bed swallow you whole.

You stand by your hostess desk, leaning your head against it with a defeated sigh. Jungkook’s voice had died down only a few minutes ago, and you hope that by this point he has mercifully left the premises. You want to take a peek to make sure, but just as you’re about to make your way to the door, you feel a hand on your shoulder stop you in your tracks.

“‘Sup, bitch.” Jimin still has that weird, pitying gaze pointed at you, though his words don’t match it. “Are you okay to go home alone tonight? I can bring your dumb ass home if you want.”

You shove his hand away, ready to bite his head off when you think better of it. If Jimin drives you home, then that lowers the chances of seeing Jungkook down to pretty much zero.

“You know what? Thanks,” you grouse. Jimin smiles at you winningly, and the image of it brings a shiver down your spine. You hit him, creeped out. “Hey. Stop that, will you? You’re being really weird?”

Jimin scoffs, crossing his arms. “Me? Weird? At least I don’t look like a damn firework ready to explode just because my cringelord ex-boyfriend is singing sappy love songs outside—”

“Shut the fuck up,” you seethe, stomping on his foot. He yelps in pain and slaps your shoulder in retaliation.

“Ouch! Watch your ogre feet! My shoes are worth twice your monthly rent I’ll have you know,” he bristles. He breathes deeply, likely finding his inner calm (which you doubt exists). “But because I’m so nice, I’ll ignore your earlier transgression and blame it on your underdeveloped amygdala.”

You don’t know what’s more surprising: the fact that Jimin knew what an amygdala was or that he was forgiving you in the first place. “Whatever. Let’s finish closing up and then head out. I’m exhausted.”

You make quick work of your task and when you’re ready to head out, Jimin is already waiting by the backdoor. He’s twirling his car keys with a finger and gestures for you to follow him. As you make your way to his car in the back parking lot, you catch sight of a lone figure standing next to a beat-up pickup truck. He’s leaning against it, his hands busy tuning a battered guitar.

Your breath hitches, and you immediately feel nauseous. Of course the incident has yet to end. The night is young, after all.

Jimin accidentally slams the backdoor closed, and the noise wrenches Jungkook’s attention away from his ministrations. Immediately, his eyes lock with Jimin before finally turning to you.

Your heart skips a beat as he gazes at you, your mind racing with a hurricane of emotions. You hadn’t expected to see him again so soon, especially not after the tumultuous encounter earlier in the day. What did you say earlier? That “the chances of seeing Jungkook was down to pretty much zero”?

The chances of seeing Jungkook is low, but never zero, your mind unhelpfully supplies.

There is a long period of awkward silence. Jungkook has his mouth slightly agape, his hand subconsciously lowering his guitar to rest against his truck. To your left, Jimin’s breathing quickens slightly. You, on the other hand, are trying your best not to projectile vomit in this damned parking lot.

Jungkook is the one who decides to break the delicate silence. “Is that you…?” he calls out hesitantly.

Don’t say my name don’t say my name don’t say my name don’t say my name don’t say my—

“Y/N,” Jimin interjects. His gaze is steel cold, uncharacteristic of the carefree boy. He slings an arm around your shoulders, gently nudging you towards his car. With your view still fixed on Jungkook, you miss the way Jimin shoots the other boy with a playful smirk. “C’mon, babe. Let’s go home.”

His words startle both you and Jungkook. “Wha—? Jimin?” you splutter, flushing at his flirtatious undertone. You want to curse him out for his strange behavior, but all the shock has left you mute.

Jimin all but shoves you into the passenger seat. But just as he’s about to slam the car door, you hear Jungkook call out your name. It’s fleeting and quiet, but you heard him crystal clear.

It breaks your spirit to hear him say your name. For a moment, you feel as though you are floating.

When was the last time he called your name? And so softly, too? If you could replay that moment over and over, would you be able to catch some signs of tenderness in his voice? When you close your eyes later that night, would your dreams show you that he had been gazing at you with yearning? Was any of it true?

As Jimin starts the car and pulls away from the curb, you steal one last glance out the window, only to find Jungkook staring at you with an arm outstretched. You continue to watch him until his figure disappears into the night.

You are quietly immersed in your own thoughts, the whirlwind of emotions intensifying your persistent migraine. Unaccustomed to silence, Jimin decides to give his unsolicited two cents, as per usual.

“Geez. Didn’t know you were into the whole starving artist type. If I’d known, then maybe I’d stop trying to brag about my fortune to you,” Jimin scoffs. “If loser buskers like him impress you, then maybe I should—”

“Would you shut the fuck up for once in your fucking life!” You explode, whirling to face him with a glare. Jimin has the audacity to flinch, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the road.

“What the fuck? Why the hell are you mad at me?”

“What the hell was that back there? ‘C’mon babe.’” You mimic his voice with a sneer. “Why on earth would you do that? Now he thinks that we…”

“Why do you care what he thinks? He’s your ex, remember?” Jimin cuts you off, but you can’t even refute him. He continues, “Figured as much. And judging by how spooked you’ve looked all day, I have to assume that he was an asshole, right? Why else would you accept my offer for a ride home if you really wanted to avoid seeing him?”

You shrink under his accurate assumptions. Damn, were you really that easy to read? “I… I mean, yeah but…” You clear your throat, still feeling wronged by him. “You didn’t have to act like a weird prick in front of him!”

Without warning, the floodgates burst forth. You begin to ramble, the thoughts that have been weighing you down pouring out of you in waves. “Jungkook was my ex, yeah. But he wasn’t an asshole. On the contrary, he was really sweet. The nicest guy in my school, at least. Wouldn’t hurt a fly, that sort of person. I dated him all throughout high school and he was a great partner.”

Jimin hums skeptically. “Then why the messy break-up?”

“It wasn’t messy!” You retort defensively.

“Could’ve fooled me!” Jimin snorts. “I also frequently act like a trembling kitten when I see my exes,” he says sarcastically.

You ignore him. “The reason we broke it off was because he wanted to pursue his dreams to become a singer after high school and I wanted to do other things. It was a mutual break-up! Honestly, I’m glad that we did. Too many girls wanted him and all the unwanted attention was getting on my nerves. I was glad to find a reason to end it all,” you explain, hoping you didn’t sound as shaky as you felt. What you said was mostly true, though you left out the important bits to yourself. Mostly to save some of your dignity intact. (Truthfully, you just didn’t want to admit things you weren’t ready to face.)

“Then if you’re so glad, why do you look like you wanted to shit yourself? It ain’t adding up,” Jimin fires back.

“It’s just—” you stammer, trying to find a reason why you were so bent out of shape after seeing him. “I-I was caught off guard, I guess. I knew he was pursuing his dreams to sing and all, so I expected him to leave the country. I wasn’t expecting to see him outside where I work, of all places,” you mutter lamely. You have your head bowed, biting your lips from the nerves. Again, you weren’t totally lying.

Jimin is silent for a moment, contemplating your admission. When he looks so calm like this, it’s hard to get a read on what he’s thinking. As Jimin speeds down the highway, the street lights illuminate his face in a strange way, and for once, he looks like a stranger. His steely expression makes you nervous, for some reason.

Eventually, he asks you a question you would never have expected. “And he just let you go?”

You pause. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Jimin huffs, irritated. “He just up and left without a fight? If I were him, I would have…” he trails off, his jaw clenching.

You don’t know where this Jimin came from. Under the moonlight, Jimin looks livid, but that can’t be right. Jimin, mad for you? Sure, you’ve seen his anger directed towards you, but this? Everything’s gotten so complicated, and you are just about ready to succumb to sleep and hope to wake from this nightmare.

The rest of the drive to your house is silent, save for the sounds coming from passing cars. Jimin pulls up to your apartment complex, his mysterious anger finally subsiding.

Just as you’re about to reach for the car door handle, Jimin places a hand on your shoulder. “Listen, Y/N. I’ll talk to management tomorrow morning. I know the manager well enough that I can probably convince him to do something about that ex of yours. He’s busking on private property, so it should be easy to get rid of him,” Jimin says, tone serious. He swallows, and for a moment you think he looks a little nervous. “If that’s what you want, I guess.”

His kindness scares you. You want to tease him, ask him where Mr. Bitchy and his $2000 Chelsea boots had gone. Anything to make this air of severe sincerity to abate. This new Jimin feels suffocating. But instead, you nod your head stiffly.

Jimin makes a pained expression for a moment, but it’s quickly replaced by his usual playful smirk. He slaps you upside the head, laughing heartily at your stunned face.

“Get some rest, babe. I’ll see you tomorrow evening,” he chuckles, reaching over to open the door for you. You scramble out into the cold city air, taking one last look back at him through his window.

He rolls it down, leaning forward to flash a toothy grin at you. “Hey, stop with all the angst, pookie. Wouldn’t want my favorite toy to get sick from overthinking. Who else would I bother at work if not you?”

You snort, both endeared and irritated in equal measure. He’s right. Everything was going back to normal tomorrow, you’re sure of it. You flip him off with a cheeky grin before making your way to your apartment.

Everything is going to be okay. Jimin says he’ll do something about it, and for whatever reason, you feel like you can trust him on this. Surely good fortune was soon to be upon you.

xxx

Jimin had texted you while you were still sleeping:

Spoke to Manager Jeong about your little problem. He said he’ll deal with him.

You breathe a sigh of relief, your body feeling significantly lighter. Your sleep last night had been tumultuous and restless. You feel more tired than you did when you went to bed, but all your weariness fades once you read Jimin’s text.

Once you make it to work, you find that management has gotten rid of Jungkook somehow. Added with the fact that your landlord has promised to look into repairing your shower (no guarantees, but you want to stay optimistic), today has been significantly better compared to yesterday. You even catch yourself humming as you set up your workstation, a small smile gracing your lips.

Jimin has a later shift this evening, and you find that you are somewhat disappointed for once. Your overwhelming gratitude is surely the only reason, otherwise you would never admit to wanting to see him at any given time.

You are in the midst of texting Jimin about all the good news when your manager passes by your desk. You are quick to pocket your phone away from his prying eyes, ready to defend that you aren’t slacking off… but his demeanor does not reveal any ire. In fact, he looks rather pleased for once.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jeong. What’s up?” you ask, suspicious. You instinctively fold your hands behind your back; it is a subconscious effort on your part to keep your distance from him. Something about your manager always gives you a bad feeling when he looks a little too happy.

He grins widely. “Everything is going splendidly, Ms. Y/N. In fact, I think today might just be our lucky day!”

Never during your time working here has his and your luck ever coincided. “Our lucky day?” you echo.

“Why, yes! I spoke with your lovely friend and coworker Jimin this morning,” he starts, and immediately your alarm bells ring. You don’t even bother correcting him about the ‘friend’ part like you normally would. He continues, “He gave me a brilliant idea about the busker who had been performing in front of the restaurant the past two days.”

You nod slowly, not quite understanding. “Yes… The busker has been quite… the spectacle,” you say carefully. Somehow, you know calling Jungkook a ‘nuisance’ would have been the wrong choice in this instance.

Manager Jeong beams. “Exactly! You must have noticed the amount of people we served yesterday despite being a Monday. Additionally, almost all of those new customers requested outdoor seating no less!”

You feel the world tilt on its axis. What is he on abou—?

“What are you talking about?” you exhale.

“Don’t you think it would be even better for business if we got that busker to perform inside the restaurant? Why, it’s a brilliant idea and I don’t know why I didn’t think of it first! Our live band has always been missing something special, and perhaps a vocal accompaniment is the exact answer to our problem! Think about it, the atmosphere would be…”

Manager Jeong continues to prattle animatedly about his plans to your unhearing ears. There must be static or cotton plugging your head because you cannot possibly understand anything he is saying. Jungkook? Inside? Performing at your restaurant? But Jimin said he had spoken to the manager about getting Jungkook away from you! None of this makes sense.

“That makes no sense,” you verbalize, unknowingly cutting Manager Jeong from his monologue. He halts in surprise, as if now just realizing you were standing there (much less capable of interrupting or disagreeing with him). When he snaps out of it, you sense that familiarly sinister aura emerging from him in waves. You belatedly realize he must have mistaken your outburst as antagonistic.

“Well, Ms. Y/N. Whether it makes sense or not, we have hired Mr. Jeon to perform live at the bar stage for the next four weeknights. If, for some unknowable reason, I am incorrect,” he pauses to emphasize his words, “then his services will be promptly terminated. However, judging by his popularity from simply standing out in the cold and singing silly love songs, I am sure that worry is unwarranted.”

Behind you, the telltale sound of the main door swinging open catches you even more off guard. You do not even have the chance to turn to face the newcomer, only managing to register the gust of cold wind that accompanies their entry.

And so, you hear him before you see him.

“Hello?” Jeon Jungkook greets quietly.

Even without turning, you can imagine how he looks, how he stands, how he feels, how he tastes—

Manager Jeong claps his hands gleefully. “Splendid timing! Speak of the devil…” The older man nearly skips towards Jungkook like a youthful school girl, accompanied by his uncharacteristic squeals of excitement.

You can feel his gaze on you, almost tangibly. With nothing but your shreds of dignity left intact, you force yourself to face him.

He’s still so tall, is all your mind can helpfully supply as you stand feet away from your high school sweetheart for the first time in two years. He’s still wearing the same bucket hat from the night before, semi-shielding him from view. Despite that, you catch a small flash of white graze his bottom lip as he chews the soft flesh nervously.

“Hi, Y/N.” He addresses you directly, completely overlooking your manager without a single glance. Despite his hat, he still has his eyes lasered on you, as if not quite believing you were there. You hate how his attention makes you shiver all the same.

Even though he ignored your manager (which would have been a major dispute had you done the same), Jungkook still receives a friendly handshake in return. “Mr. Jeon! I’m surprised you know Ms. Y/N, though I’m sure you must have spoken with her when she was escorting guests to the outdoor seating the other day.”

You had actually gotten your co-hostess to seat all the outdoor seatings yesterday, but you weren’t going to mention that.

Manager Jeong claps him on the back, inadvertently causing Jungkook to stumble forward closer to you. He looks up at you then, eyes bugging out of their sockets like a rabbit caught in a bear trap. You stagger backwards in turn, barely concealing the anxiety on your face. Oh fucking hell.

Your manager is none the wiser, of course. “Well, this makes my job much easier! Since you’re both acquainted, I’ll let Y/N show you the ropes. The band doesn’t start their set until later in the evening, but you’re free to take a look at the stage and other parts of our facility in the meantime,” he says, chuffed. Meanwhile, Jungkook looks like he’s been shot by a freeze ray.

Then, your manager points a sharper gaze at you. “Ms. Y/N, treat our super star well. I know you won’t disappoint me.”

Fucking superstar… You can only nod in defeat. “Y-Yes, sir…” you whisper, clenching your uniform with your fists. It is the only way to keep them from shaking like a leaf. You watch as his figure disappears behind his office door, leaving you to fend for yourself. Powerless, you train your gaze to the floor, unwilling to meet Jungkook’s eyes.

But the nerves are taking control of your body, screaming at you to eject, eject, eject!

“Sorry, I have to go to the toilet,” you splutter quickly, almost tripping over yourself on the way to the restroom. You dimly wonder if Jungkook is going to think you’re leaving to throw up, but you can’t find any self-respect left to care. All you need is air and space to breathe—preferably away from him.

You slam open the stall, hardly checking to see if anyone else is around before locking the door shut. You sit on the toilet, plant your face between your knees, and scream.

Should you go home and use sickness as an excuse? But even if you did, you still had shifts every weeknight. You would have to see him eventually. You can pray all you want that Jungkook will be fired by the end of the week, but even your delusional mind can never fathom the idea that anyone would willingly want to send Jeon Jungkook away. Plus, you remember that the regular band that plays at the restaurant has been wanting to get a singer to accompany them for ages, and you know just how damn affable he can be. They are going to love him, and you hate him for that.

It is clear to you that there is no other option:

You pull out your phone to quickly open up Indeed on your browser, frantically hunting for any openings that might fit your measly qualifications. However, you have to pause in your search to deliberate. Wouldn’t it be better to move out of the country? You had been so naive to think that moving cities was enough distance between you and Jungkook—going across the ocean is the obvious answer. Should you start up your Duolingo lessons again and hope that you can somehow survive in a different continent with only a few dollars to your name?

You shut your phone in despair. Whether or not your plans of escape are feasible or not, in the short term, you are stuck with having to suck it up and just learn to ignore your ex-boyfriend’s presence. Surely you can force out a fake smile or two, especially with how much practice you’ve gotten after working with unbearably entitled customers.

Taking a step outside of the restroom stall, you head to the sink to splash some cold on your face. You stare at the mirror, confronted by a girl who looks two seconds away from having a Netflix Original-esque meltdown. You rake your fingers through your hair, doing your best to look like you aren’t about to rush into incoming traffic. To no one's surprise, it doesn't work.

“Okay, I got this. Just pretend like he’s just some guy, because at the end of the day, he is just some guy,” you mutter to your reflection. She looks back at you unconvinced. “He may have broken my heart into little bite size pieces, but who cares! HE’S JUST A GUY!” You repeat the phrase over and over again like a lunatic, in a desperate attempt to cognitively alter your brain chemistry.

At that moment, one of the other stalls in the restroom creaks open, and a girl you recognize who works as one of the dishwashers walks out. You both have a silent eye conversation as she quietly studies your crazed expression and crumpled work uniform.

Eventually, she awkwardly clears her throat, pointing to the only sink in the restroom. “Uh, sorry to hear about your, uh, guy problem. Could I use the sink please?”

You hastily back away, allowing her to take your spot. You don’t even have the energy to apologize for your spectacle, just bowing sheepishly to her before making your way back to the main hall. If she rats you out to the rest of your coworkers, then that gives you another reason to move out of the country. Maybe you should consider a name change while you’re at it.

When you exit the restroom, you half expect Jungkook to be waiting for you by the door, but find that he isn’t anywhere nearby. He isn’t by your hostess station either, and you thank your lucky stars for once. Even if your manager had asked you to show him around, you’re sure that Jungkook can find his way around just fine. Plus, the stage is at the corner of the restaurant and is sufficiently far enough that you wouldn’t have to make eye contact with him if you were careful.

You don’t know which greater entity has been messing with your sanity these past few days, but you hope that they can show you mercy just once—a brief reprieve, if anything.

You clasp your hands in prayer. I’ll eat more vegetables, I’ll remember to floss, I’ll call my parents from time to time… Just please let me survive tonight.

“Remember, Y/N… He’s just some guy,” you reiterate through gritted teeth. If a passing coworker happens to overhear your demented chanting, then you pay them no mind.

You walk towards the entrance, flipping the sign to open. You feel like a video game character when you glance at the clock, which signals the start of your shift. You can imagine the red bold text hovering above your head: 8 more hours until freedom.

This is just like playing Five Nights at Freddy’s, except you’ve only watched the movie and you suspect your life is probably worse than whatever Josh Hutcherson had to survive through.

You take a couple heaving breaths to brace yourself for what will be the longest eight hours of your life. You’ll show Jungkook just how well-adjusted and mature you’ve become. You are a professional, and not even a boy with angelic vocals will make you crumble. After all, what’s the worst he can do?

xxx

He could, in fact, do a lot worse than you thought.

“I have many regrets being born at all,” you mutter bleakly, three hours into your shift.

Jungkook had started singing only an hour ago, so you had been filled with false confidence at first when the restaurant was filled with nothing but ambient chatter and soothing jazz music. You felt more and more confident as the minutes ticked by and your anxiety slowly melted away. You even forgot that he was somewhere in the back, likely warming up or whatever it is that singers did before a performance.

However, your brief moment of courage shatters almost immediately when Jungkook finally takes the stage.

At first, you did your best to tune out his voice, but it’s especially hard when whoever was in charge of the sound system decided to crank his volume to an excruciating level. You wanted desperately to grab some napkins and shove them in your ears, but you suspected that your customers (and manager) would be unappreciative of that gesture. And so there you lay, forced to wallow in Jungkook’s melodious singing like a criminal strapped to an electric chair.

But how much more pleasant an electric chair would be! Why on earth was Jungkook so adamant to sing sad love songs the entire time? Why couldn’t he be like his other singing contemporaries, who loved to write songs about getting bitches and making money? At the very least, even if he wasn’t quite a platinum selling artist just yet, surely he was constantly sharing beds with anyone he pleases? Couldn’t he sing about that?!

(In the back of your mind, you wonder if it would be less painful to learn that Jungkook has slept with multiple people… Because then, it would mean that he had moved on while you stood alone on your island, stranded and yearning.)

You didn’t want to think too deeply about his lyrics. However, you're only human. So when your mind barrier failed and you caught snippets of his singing, you noticed a pattern. There was always a girl in his songs. She was omnipresent, and Jungkook was always pleading for her. Begging and aching and wanting. But most all… he was always repenting. In every song, he always whispered a pious apology.

You feared what would happen if you turned around in those moments of weakness. You were terrified of admitting something, of letting words spill that had been trapped in your throat for the better part of two years.

Lucky for you, salvation comes in the form of one Park Jimin. Though, can you even count him as your savior when he had also inadvertently caused your demise?

Jimin doesn’t even have a shift today, so you’re more than surprised when his bright blonde head stumbles through the restaurant doors. His expensive coat is askew and his signature designer shades are nowhere to be found. He is panic incarnate—an expression you have never seen on his face before.

“Holy fuck,” he greets, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. His profanity startles the elderly couple waiting to be seated, their glares menacingly sharp. To his credit, Jimin doesn’t even seem phased.

In lieu of an answer, you gesture vaguely behind you. You can imagine how dejected you must look. “Holy fuck indeed,” you sigh.

It takes a moment for Jimin to regain his bearings. He straightens up and pats down his coat, but his hair is still tousled by the wind. If not for the fact that he has a car, you might have thought he had run all the way here.

“I am so sorry. I didn’t know this was going to happen,” he starts, genuinely remorseful. “I texted Manager Jeong this morning and he said he’d get your ex to leave, but I didn’t think he’d offer the damn bastard a job!”

“Mind your language, Park. I’m still at work,” you scold. You try your best to ignore the scrutinizing gaze of the elderly couple. You lower your voice. “And don’t apologize. I know you’re an asshole, but I doubt you’d actually prey on my downfall like this. I know you’re not into public humiliation.”

Jimin brightens slightly at your joke, but he still looks like a guilty puppy who'd been caught shitting on the carpet. “Yeah, well. I happen to enjoy tormenting you and I won’t let some upstart Charlie Puth wannabe ruin your life. That’s my job.”

You smile wryly at him. “Well, that’s too bad. Jungkook’s been singing for a few hours now and I’m pretty sure Manager Jeong is going to keep him long-term. He might have broken my heart, but damn does he have vocals. I'm sure you'll have plenty competition when it comes to 'who can make Y/N's life feel like hell.'”

Jimin doesn't smile back, but instead studies your face for a moment. Then:

“Do you think if I offer to suck Manager Jeong off, he’ll fire him?”

“What the fuck?” You nearly yell out in surprise, your jaw dropping to the floor. Judging by his serious scowl, you know he's actually considering it. By now, the elderly couple waiting to be seated have left the premises.

Jimin continues, unperturbed. “I know he secretly wants me, based on how his wife seems to have a personal vendetta against me. He definitely wants a taste of my bus—.”

“Stop, I get it!” You wave your hands to make him shut up, heat rising up your cheeks. “Never say that string of words to me ever again. You have just inflicted ten years of suffering onto my poor brain.”

“Hey, I’m just offering solutions here!” Jimin pouts.

You stare at him, unimpressed. “Save it. You tried solving my problems already, so let’s just accept the fact that there’s nothing else for me to do but to suck it up. It’s time for me to put on my big girl pants for a change.”

“I mean, I could do all the sucking instead, but you’re being a little bitch about it,” Jimin mumbles. He’s lucky you didn’t hear him this time, lest you give him something to really whine about.

“Anyway, I guess this is my life now. Nothing to do except hope that he never tries to interact with me or I can find another job,” you shrug.

Over your shoulder, Jimin fixes Jungkook with an icy glare that is cold enough to give you the shivers. For the first time that entire night, you hazard a glance back at the stage, finding that Jungkook is already looking back at you.

You whip your head back forward, perspiration forming down your back. For fuck’s sake, this guy.

“Well, let me know if he tries anything. I’ll beat that little freak into the floor if he tries so much as breathing the same air as you.” Jimin huffs, puffing up his chest with false bravado. You can’t help but laugh at his empty threat, knowing that Jungkook could probably bench press Jimin without breaking a sweat. Jimin's muscles are only for aesthetics, after all.

“Don’t worry, he hasn’t actually spoken to me actually. He can keep singing his sad little love songs, I really don’t mind,” you say, like a liar. Jimin snorts, wholly unconvinced.

“Well, if you need me, I’m heading to the bar to grab a drink so I can stare at your ex uncomfortably until he leaves. See you!” Jimin bids you farewell with a cheery grin as he skips a little too happily inside the restaurant.

Why'd you have to befriend the largest lunatic in the city? You massage your forehead with a groan, willing away your growing headache.

The rest of the night trickles away like molasses. Jungkook continues to sing his heart out, save for an hour intermission where he presumably takes a short break. In his absence, you hear Jimin guffaw loudly, his laughter too sharp to be considered happy. You faintly hear Jungkook shy stutters in response, and you momentarily consider running in to interrupt.

Why? Did you want to save Jungkook from Jimin’s unnecessary harassment? It’s not like Jimin is doing it out nowhere, he was just trying to be… a good friend?

You pause to ponder. As much as you hate to admit it, you know why you want to help Jungkook. But Jimin on the other hand? Why did he want to help you? Questions begin flowing through your head like a whirlwind, and your nausea increases. God, when was your next therapy appointment again?

You save those questions for another day. As you look at your watch, there are only thirty minutes left until two in the morning. You tap your foot impatiently, smiling curtly at departing customers as the restaurant slowly emptied. As they left, you overhear some of your regulars giggling amongst themselves, whispering about the cute new singer and his charming demeanor.

The last nail on your coffin has been hammered. Yeah, Jungkook isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

With the restaurant closing soon, it sounds like Jungkook is ready to end his set as well.

Throughout the night, Jungkook rarely made a point to speak. The only time he didn’t sing was when he quietly introduced the title of his next song and the band swiftly began the first opening notes. For his last song, however, Jungkook decided to give a little more backstory for his final song.

“Hello, everyone. Thank you so much for listening to me for the night,” Jungkook says with a soft voice, his tone awfully shy despite his powerful belting throughout the evening. The few customers left give him a warm round of applause, and you hear the familiar sound of his timid giggles spill from the restaurant speakers.

“This will be my final song for the night. Most of the songs I sang today were covers, but this one is an original. I…” He hesitates for a moment, and something pulls you to turn despite the alarm bells ringing in your ears. You face him, and just like earlier in the evening, he is already looking back at you.

This time, you don’t look away; he does. His eyes flit to the ceiling, and he licks his lips from nerves. “I… I wrote this song a long while ago. I’ve never sang it in public before and I never thought it would ever see the light of day. Until, well…”

He stops again. This time, he gestures to the guitarist in the band, silently asking to borrow it. With a guitar in hand, he smiles a little more confidently at the small crowd of people. He begins strumming the first few notes, and your heart stops. “I hope everyone had a pleasant evening. Get home safe and have a great rest of your week. My name is Jungkook, and this last song is called…”

Before he can sing the first line of his song, you make a break for it.

You slam the restaurant doors open, and the stinging cold air immediately pierces their fangs into your skin. Your coat is still inside, but you can’t bring yourself to reenter. You take a long breath, the chill barely registering in your mind with how loudly your heart is pounding in your ears.

Hearing the opening to that song was enough to bring you back in time, three years ago:

You are in his childhood bedroom, his walls littered with concert posters and his floor a mess with unfolded laundry and guitar picks. The afternoon sun is streaming through his windows, bathing him in gold. You have an exam the next day and he has cram school to go to, but you’ve both chucked your books somewhere on his desk, left forgotten.

He has his eyes closed, concentrated. You’re both on his small twin bed, squished together side by side and thighs touching. You have your head on his shoulder and he has his hands on his guitar. He strums a few chords experimentally and sings a melody that only the two of you know.

(Not anymore.)

“Are you writing a new song?” you ask, voice a little scratchy. Neither of you had spoken for the past few hours, just basking in the setting sun and Jungkook’s indistinct strumming. But now, his chords sound more sure, more certain of something.

“Yeah, I just thought of it,” he hums. He opens his eyes a smidge, a smitten smile on his lips. You mirror him.

“What’s it about this time?”

His brows furrow. “I’ve been trying to write about other stuff, you know? Namjoon-hyung tells me it’s important that songs have meaning and impact.” He pauses in his strumming, looking a little conflicted. “And I get what he means. Art is all about saying something, but… I can’t help that there’s only one thing I ever want to talk about. Is that so wrong?”

You chuckle, understanding what he means. You nudge your head against his cheek, grinning from ear to ear. The fluttering in your chest has become routine to you at this point, but he somehow always knows how to increase it tenfold. “God, you’re such a sweet talker. Really, Koo. There’s no need to serenade with love songs—I’m already yours.”

He looks back at you, brimming with tender affection. “I know,” he responds. Then, he takes a pen from his bedside table, and begins writing.

During those years of dating him, you always thought that If he was a waterfall, then you were a teaspoon. You desperately tried to be enough for him, but you’re barely able to fathom the depth of his devotion. Everything about him was excessive, and you could seldom understand how he managed to contain himself. He was born to share himself, to tear bits of his soul so that the world may understand him, love him. His songs were a testament that he was trying to do that, and you always felt so lucky to be able to receive him, wholly and fully.

How cruel was it that Jungkook uses that same song to rip open the barely healed scab on your heart, leaving you bare and stinging and raw all over again.

You have no idea how long you've stood there in the cold. It must have been barely a few minutes when Jimin finds his way to you. He wordlessly shrugs his coat off and places it on your shoulders, but you make no move to acknowledge him.

You hope your silence is enough for Jimin to infer that you are not in a conversational mood, but he’s nothing if not impatient. He forcibly pulls you to face him, his hands warm even through your clothing.

“Hey, you good? Did something happen?” He asks with barely concealed irritation, but it’s not directed at you. Still, you flinch at his scathing tone, shrinking in on yourself. In your daze, you vaguely notice his resemblance to an angry baby chick.

“It’s nothing. Go back inside, I’ll be right there,” you mumble lamely, weakly pushing him back towards the restaurant. Jimin does not budge, instead leveling you with a hard stare. This time, you’re sure his irritation is for you.

“You idiot, you literally ran out like someone was out to get you. Of course it’s not nothing,” he grouses.

You sigh tiredly, shaking your head at him. “We can talk later. It’s almost closing time and I just want to go home and sleep.”

Before Jimin can argue further, the door to the restaurant opens once more, but it isn’t a leaving customer.

“What the fuck? What are you doing out here?” Jimin all but shouts at Jungkook. He holds up an accusatory finger at him and uses his other hand to nudge you behind him as if to shield you.

Jungkook winces, instinctively stepping back. Despite being a few inches taller than Jimin, Jungkook’s timidness makes him look smaller. “I… I was just worried about her—”

“Don’t you have a song to finish in there? Talk about professional,” Jimin spits out. Jimin maneuvers you so that Jungkook can’t see you, but you manage to catch sight of how his gaze follows you unfailingly.

“I finished up my set. It’s closing time.” Jungkook responds coolly. He’s still a little quiet, but you can sense some of his natural composure rising to the surface. When he needs to be, Jungkook has been known to stand his ground—usually when it comes to matters involving you.

At this time of the night and after hours of mental torture, the last thing you need is to watch your two worst nightmares duke it out in front of your work establishment. You are beyond exhausted, and you hardly have the fortitude to withstand another minute of their voices ringing in your ears.

Your eyes well up with tears of frustration, causing the two boys to freeze up in panic. You don’t give them the chance to fuss over you; instead, you haphazardly wipe your cheeks before roughly pushing them back towards the restaurant.

“Get back to work, you idiots.” Your voice sounds warbled even to your own ears, but you push past your overwhelming emotions in favor of getting back inside to close up. Hell, you might even call in sick tomorrow, just so you can cry pathetically into your bowl of cereal in solitude.

“I’m not even on the clock today!” Jimin complains faintly, but you only push him harder.

When you all reenter, you walk back to your desk and pointedly ignore the two of them until they awkwardly float away from your orbit. Despite the distance they give you, their gazes are still fixed plainly on you and they feel like knives digging into your back.

Eventually, all the final customers of the day take their leave, and your remaining coworkers start dimming the lights and bidding their goodbyes. From the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook bowing respectfully to the band, who were giving him friendly pats on the back for a job well done. Jimin walks toward you, his car keys dangling from his left pinky.

“No thanks. I’ll take the bus home today,” you declare before he can offer a ride. Jimin opens his mouth like a goldfish, flapping his lips dumbly as he stares at you in shock. You have no idea why he’s so surprised, given how you’ve been making it obvious that you need some space.

He looks like he wants to argue again, but thinks better of it. A singular moment of restraint from Park Jimin, which is an act you once thought impossible. Maybe he does care about you more than you thought.

He stiffly nods at you, shoving his hands and keys into his pockets. He still has a frown on his face when he tells you to text him when you get home. You flip him off with a shaky smirk in response, a feeble attempt to bring some levity back to your now tense relationship. It works a little, and Jimin brightens up significantly. How simple-minded of him.

With a flippant wave, you leave work and head towards your bus stop. At this hour of the night, the streets are mostly dim, save for some street lamps and bars that stay open longer than your restaurant. There are always some people milling about, enough that you never feel too on edge about how late it is. Still, your bus stop is often empty, leaving you to mull over your thoughts in peace.

You are in the midst of jamming your earbuds into your ear when a presence makes itself known beside you.

Is it possible to go through the five stages of grief in under a second? You suppose not, but it’s hard to tell what sort of emotions swim through you when you come face to face with Jeon Jungkook again.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you mutter under your breath. You pause the song playing on your phone to glare at him with as much venom as you can muster.

Jungkook holds up his hands in surrender, doe eyes wide like prey. “I-I’m heading home too! I’m not following you, I swear!”

You groan internally. Figures that you and Jungkook take the same bus home. But hold on— “Don’t you have a car? I remember you were parked near the restaurant the other night,” you note, squinting at him.

Jungkook looks sheepish as he rubs the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah. That car was my hyung’s. He lets me borrow it sometimes, but he needed it tonight.”

“Sure…” You level him with a skeptical frown. You remember his hyung, but don’t recall him ever owning a car. You aren’t even sure that his Namjoon-hyung is allowed by the country to drive a car, much less own one.

He could be lying, but you don’t want to give him an excuse to continue any conversation. So, you busy yourself with your phone and keep your head bowed away from him.

When the bus arrives, Jungkook makes it a point to sit a few rows behind you. Thankfully, he has a better understanding of social cues than a certain Park that you know. He leaves you alone, but your entire body still feels like a rope pulled taut. You have to convince yourself not to look behind you, your morbid curiosity scratching your insides raw.

You are in the home stretch now, and it’ll only be a few more minutes before you get to your stop and make your way to your safe haven. Hell resumes the next day and the next, but at the very least you’ll have your home to yourself. No one could take that away from you.

Again, this is where you learn that tempting fate is never a good idea.

When you exit the bus at your stop, you can hear his footsteps following you. It’s hard not to notice, especially when his large and distracting boots make such a distinct racket that makes him so Jungkook.

You hasten your pace towards your apartment complex, your shoulders hunched and hands shoved into your coat pockets in an attempt to hinder the bile rising from your stomach. He had promised that he wasn’t following you, but that proclamation seems to be standing on feeble legs with how long he’s been on your tail now.

Your street is filled with rows of low-rise apartment buildings, so you hope that if anything happens, you can yell as loud as you can and alert some compassionate neighbor to come to your aid. (Not that you think he would ever physically harm you, but… You can’t say the same about your mental state.)

Your home is just two buildings away from where you are, but Jungkook still seems determined to follow you to the end. You all but skip the remaining feet to your apartment entrance, your breath coming out in puffs as you finally muster up the courage to face your supposed stalker and give him a piece of your mind.

“If this is some convoluted way for you to find out where I live, then you aren’t being very subtle about it,” you say, your chin held up high despite the growing urge to vomit pathetically in front of your ex-boyfriend. You have your hand rested on the doorknob, just a moment’s notice away from bolting into your house if the need for a quick getaway arises.

To your surprise, Jungkook wasn’t following you as closely as you expected. He had stopped trailing you about two buildings down, his own hand poised on the door with a look of genuine shock.

You both stand there, staring at each other as mutual understanding dawns on the two of you.

Everyday, the universe learns of more creative ways to be cruel.

“Oh…” Jungkook’s voice falters. He looks simultaneously frightened and amazed, as if he too finds this entire situation unbelievably harsh. He swallows thickly, looking at you and back to his door in quick succession. “Well… This is a strange coincidence,” he murmurs.

You want to believe that this was his entire fault, that Jungkook had somehow managed to track you down to haunt you for the rest of your days. You want to believe that he’s a crazed stalker who is willing to find where you work and live so that every hour of your wretched life is filled with nothing but reminders of what-could-have-beens. You just want someone to blame instead of just the cosmos—you want someone tangible to hate so that your suffering can be given some sort of identity. You want to give your mourning and hurt a name so that you can learn how to heal.

You want to believe all of that, but it’s hard to do so when Jungkook looks so incredibly uncomfortable, as if he’d rather melt into the shadows and never be seen again.

In all your memories, you have never seen Jungkook look so small.

You heave a big sigh, your fingers grasping the door knob so tightly that you half-expect it to be dented from the force. You linger for a moment, your mouth opening but nothing spills out.

What is there to say? What do you say to an ex-boyfriend that you haven’t seen in two years, who is suddenly so deeply entwined in your life once more? Do you tell him goodnight? Tell him to stay away? Tell him to come home with you?

Jungkook looks equally as conflicted. His lips are pursed tight with words left unsaid. You aren’t sure whether you want to punch the confession out of his mouth or seal them up forever. It feels like eons before he finally breaks the silence with a mirthless laugh.

“I… I just wanted to say—back at the restaurant. When I sang that last song,” Jungkook begins, and his voice feels loud because of how empty the streets are. For a moment, you are reminded of a cathedral you once visited during a vacation, how sacred silence can be. The world holds its breath, waiting for him to speak.

“I meant it all. Every word. Every lyric. I never stopped…”

He trails off, shrugging his shoulders. He stares at you helplessly, but you don’t know what to say. You don’t want to listen any more, but your feet are planted to the ground. You’re frozen like a deer in headlights, forced to brace against him as he crashes into you.

He continues, “And when we broke up back then… I never wanted that to happen. You broke it off before we could even try something—and I hated how I didn’t fight for you harder. I let you misunderstand me because I was afraid you wouldn’t want to stick around if I didn’t succeed. I convinced myself that I was holding you down, but I never gave you—us—a chance. I never stopped regretting it since.”

“Me? Break up with you?” You echo incredulously. That statement is enough to break you from your trance, the telltale signs of indignation rising up your chest. “How dare you suggest—Me? You were the one who broke up with me, asshole! You were the one who broke my heart and decided to up and leave to god knows where! Only to miraculously respawn right next to me, groveling at my feet with sad love songs as if that’s enough for me to forgive and forget? Fucking entitled bastard,” you seethe.

Somehow, Jungkook manages to shrink more, like a bunny with his tail tucked between his legs. “Yes, you’re right that I broke your heart but… When I told you I was moving away to try and become a singer, it was always with the intention of staying together. I know it would have been difficult, but I wanted you to be with me through thick and thin. But when you misunderstood and took it as a break up, I let you go because, well… I was scared that it would happen eventually. Who wants to date a broke busking fool anyway?”

He laughs, but it sounds watery. He sniffles, and you hope it's only because of the cold. “I tried looking for you, but you blocked me everywhere and no one from back home seemed to know where you went. So I just accepted that we’d never see each other again… Until a few days ago, that is.”

A misunderstanding? Is that what everything boils down to? Years of trying to build yourself back up again, relearning what it means to be happy—all the fallen domino pieces in your life trailing back to a single moment in time? All because Jungkook was scared that you didn't love him enough?

You’ve never felt angrier in your life. You fear what you might say if you continue to stand outside there, face to face with the singular person strong enough to whittle you down to the bone. Jeon Jungkook is all soft smiles and sweet songs, but how come he’s always able to knock you off your axis? Few people on this earth can stitch you up and break you down in equal measure, but somehow, Jungkook manages to do all that and more.

Then, comes the guilt. Had it been all your fault? That you hadn't returned his love in equal measure? Had you secretly given up on the hope of being on his level? Always looking down on yourself: unable to move past your insecurities. Were you terrified of being his side piece, his girlfriend, forever?

Who are you, even? And where do you stand?

(Beside him, is what you want to answer. You don't know if that's the right choice.)

You can’t bear to look at him, least of all answer him. Without another word, you shove your house key into the door before slamming it shut despite the late hour. If you awaken any neighbors, you’ll apologize later. For now, all you require is sleep and hope that this has been all a terrible nightmare.

xxx

Reality is a bitter pill to swallow.

Jeon Jungkook continues to sing at the restaurant, and after only two days of repeat stellar performances, your manager decides to promote him as the official vocalist for the band. It hurts to admit that you're not the least bit surprised; you might have a hard time looking at him, but you can never deny his talent.

His song list has added a larger variety of genres ever since his first performance. That is to say, he isn’t always singing about lost loves and tragic couples every night. Perhaps it is due to some requests from customers or his other bandmates, but it doesn’t stop him from sprinkling one or two love songs into the mix.

He doesn’t sing any original songs ever again. That, at least, is a small mercy. He doesn’t make any moves to speak with you either, despite the daily awkward trips back home after the end of your shifts. Whether that’s because he’s given up on you (again), or he’s waiting for you to make the first move, you don’t know. Frankly, you don’t think you have the energy (nor courage) to do anything about it.

It’s a few weeks after Jungkook’s first performance at the restaurant, and closing time is approaching. You appreciate Friday nights the most because it means you’ll have two consecutive days to relax and avoid your problems. It’s also the busiest night of the week, when white-collar workers decide to drink and eat for as long as the night allows them. Busier nights mean more distractions, and you’re willing to deal with twenty Karens over one Jungkook.

During nights like these, your manager occasionally asks you to fulfill some waitress duties when there aren’t enough hands on deck. Normally you’d hate it, but earning the extra tips is enough to keep your grumbling to a minimum To this day, your landlord has yet to do anything about your broken shower, and you’ve finally conceded to the fact that you’ll have to be the one to do something about it.

As you inform the customers in your area that the last call for orders is approaching, you sneak a glance at the bar to see Jimin dutifully performing his job. That is to say, he’s flirting up a storm, getting women and men alike to blush from head to toe as he serves their drinks with a salacious smirk.

What a swindler, you think to yourself, snorting when he makes eye contact with you. He gives you a cheeky salute, mouthing something as he gestures to the back door.

Despite the semi-fight the two of you had all those weeks ago, Jimin was never one to argue about the same topic two days in a row. When you saw him the next day after your confrontation with Jungkook, Jimin was back to all smiles. You still catch him sending death glares towards Jungkook on most nights, but he doesn’t bring up the matter with you anymore. For that reason, you’ve gratefully settled back into your weird, banterful friendship with him. Even if there’s still a lingering tension between the two of you that you refuse to acknowledge.

You nod thankfully back at him, excited to go to his house and take a much needed shower. At this point, going to his house has become second nature to you, and it gives you an excuse to not see Jungkook at your regular bus stop every day. You have half a mind to never fix your shower for that reason, but of course there is still the problem of having to deal with Jimin every time you need to bathe. You hardly consider yourself an impatient person, but Jimin likes to toe the line far more often than necessary.

You’re down to your last two tables before you can close up shop when your manager suddenly barrels right into your path. You nearly drop your tray of dirty dishes to the floor, holding in a loud yelp as your suspiciously stern-faced manager halts you in place.

“Ms. Y/N, may I have a word with you for a moment? It’s regarding your paycheck for the month,” he barks, lips downturned. He appears disgruntled about something, and it sends a worried shiver down your spine. And here you thought Fridays are meant to be fun. He doesn’t wait for you to reply before he stalks back to his office, an unspoken command for you to follow.

You unload your dishes in the kitchen before making your way to his office. The small, dark room is cramped with overflowing file folders and coupons from multiple take-out places. You accidentally step on a stack of papers, and upon further inspection, seem to be a pile of applications for new hires. You distinctly remember complaining to him months prior about being understaffed and him replying that no inquiries were coming in.

As you approach, your manager shuffles through your coworkers pay stubs, and you notice yours and Jungkook’s on top of the piles.

Manager Jeong clears his throat. “Well, Y/N. It seems to be your lucky day. As you know, we split the tips based on your hours and what sort of duties you fulfill. With the new hire we have as our in-house singer, we’ve had to split it one way more to accommodate his arrival. However, he has recently requested to me that his portion be reallocated… to you, Ms. Y/N.”

Your jaw drops immediately. “I-I don’t understand, Manager Jeong,” you sputter.

Manager Jeong snorts, bemused by your reaction. “Don’t understand? Well, I suppose you’ll have to ask Mr. Jeon if you want his reasoning. Regardless, since we normally deposit your salary straight to your bank account, would it be alright if I hand you his tips in cash for now? He only informed me about his request an hour ago, and the accountant has already clocked out for the week.”

All you can do is nod dumbly back at him. With a huff, your manager presses a white envelope into your hands before promptly ushering you out of his office. “Well, that's settled. Out you go! Have a good weekend, Ms. Y/N. Don’t forget to lock the register before you leave!” He calls out before slamming his door in your face.

It takes you a moment to reanimate back to life. You stare at the white envelope for a long while, unable to fathom the scribbled out name of Jeon Jungkook replaced with your own name. Then, you crumple it into your fist before stomping over to where Jungkook and the rest of the band are in the middle of packing it up for the night.

Jungkook looks up from his guitar case when he senses you fast approaching. For a fleeting second, a smile graces his handsome face before it’s smacked away by your crumpled envelope.

“Keep your fucking cash, Jungkook. What the hell is your problem?” You fume, cheeks heating from agitation. Jungkook splutters for a moment, prying the envelope away from his face and looking at it in bewilderment. When he sees it clearly, recognition dawns on his face, followed by guilt.

“It’s just… my way of saying sorry, I guess.” He answers you meekly, neck flushing red in embarrassment. Behind him, the rest of the band grow silent at the scene before them, and you debate on telling them to mind their own business when they quicken their pace to leave.

“Well, keep your apology to yourself. There’s nothing to apologize for,” you correct him with a frown. To offer an apology is to offer accountability. You aren’t sure if you’re ready to hear him say that.

“No, it’s a sorry for… using you, I suppose.”

“Using me?” You repeat, dumbfounded. “For what?”

Jungkook smiles wryly back at you. “For inspiration?” he clarifies. For being the reason I can sing? He leaves that part unsaid, but you can almost imagine him saying it.

You feel heat rising to your cheeks again, but this time you aren’t quite sure if it’s from embarrassment, anger… or something else.

Unable to conjure up a response to his simple confession, you stomp away from him with a pounding heart and shaking hands. You continue the rest of your closing shift routine instinctually, your body moving on autopilot as Jungkook’s words continue to ring inside your head. When all is said and done, Jimin makes his way to your station with a questioning stare, but you wave him off in favor of stomping ahead of him to the parking lot.

In his car, Jimin rattles off about his latest exploits and purchases, his grating voice a comfort for once. You hum noncommittally during his stories when appropriate, but you suppose your usual indifference feels different, even to Jimin's untrained ears.

At his house, you drift to his bathroom immediately. You already have a shirt button undone by the time you get a handle on the door when Jimin’s hand stops you in place. You can feel his warmth emanating against your back as he slowly pulls the bathroom door close. With a tired sigh, you reluctantly turn to face him and find him standing closer than you expected.

He has an arm resting above your head, effectively caging you. You feel your shoulders sag. Damn, here comes another confrontation. Why can’t everyone just leave you alone?!

“Talk to me,” he says. No, he demands.

You push him away weakly, but he hardly budges. “Nothing to talk about,” you lie. Had you no filter, you’d be word vomiting all over the place ages ago.

Jimin groans, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “Enough with the emotional constipation. I’m here to listen, alright? No teasing or anything, I’m all ears and maybe a shoulder to cry on. Just don’t stain my Chanel top too bad,” he jokes.

You puff out a short breath—a sorry excuse for a laugh. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want to talk about it, and that’s that.”

“It’ll make you feel a lot better, though,” he offers.

You scoff. “What makes you think that? What if I just want to ignore all my problems forever and never grow from it? Is that so bad?”

Jimin pushes himself away from you, raising his hands in mock defeat. “You’re so fucking annoying. Can you stop running away from your problems and talk to me? Hell, talk to Jungkook for all I care! Just stop being a doormat and speak your mind for once in your damn life!”

“What are you, my therapist?” You brush past him, shower all but forgotten. You begin toeing your shoes back on, ready to head home tired and smelly. At the very least, you won’t have to deal with this stupid annoying asshole any longer.

Jimin strides back towards you, but for once he doesn’t do anything to forcibly stop you. Jimin has always been gruff with you, not afraid to push and pull you in any which direction. It’s part of the reason why you can’t take him seriously, even though you’ve recently realized why he was always being such a prick towards you—

“Yeah, I’m not your therapist. But for better or for worse, I’m your friend and I—I fucking care about you, alright? And it sucks seeing that good-for-nothing stick his nose in your business and act like he can do anything without any repercussions.”

Is Jimin being for real right now? “With how often you look at yourself in the mirror, you’d think you’d be better at introspection,” is all you say to that. You shove your feet into your shoes, not caring that you’ve probably put them on wrong. Maybe it’s because it’s Friday and the fatigue from the week has finally settled deep in your bones, but you can’t help but leave one last scathing remark to drive the final nail in the coffin.

“You know, if you were a little nicer to me, maybe I would talk to you. Hell, maybe I’d like you back. But no, just keep being your domineering, asshole self and I’ll keep being the same fucking doormat bitch you know and love,” you spit, turning towards the door and away from his face. You’re not even curious to see how he reacts. “I don’t need protection, alright? When I tell you to stay out of my business, you stay out of it. So don’t try and pretend to be my knight in shining armor.”

There’s an ocean of silence, enough to hear a pin drop. The urge to apologize surges to the surface, but you stamp it down. He’s petty all the time, so now it’s your turn.

Okay, maybe that’s a little too mean on your part, but you’re exhausted. Perhaps it is true when they say you should never act on your anger when it’s past midnight. But can anyone blame you? You’re only a girl, and girls need to snap too.

When he responds, his voice sounds weak. Park Jimin, weak? It's almost unthinkable. "Why don't you trust me?"

Isn't it obvious? you want to say. But some mercy remains within you. You'll pick up the pieces another time. Instead, you rasp out, “Good night, Park. I’ll see you on Monday.”

The walk of shame back to your house is long and arduous. Your phone dings thrice, likely signaling texts from Jimin, but you turn it off without checking for sure. For once, the weight on your shoulders is slightly lighter. You huff out a dry laugh, realizing belatedly that maybe Jimin is right—maybe speaking your mind has its benefits.

There’s a small park in your neighborhood that you always pass by. You don’t remember the last time you spared it a second glance, but this time you notice a lone figure swinging back and forth, arching dangerously higher than what you would consider safe. From a distance, all you can make out are the person’s comically bright boots, and you have a sinking suspicion you know who it is without seeing their face.

Cosmos, or whoever it is that controls my life, why must you braid our strings of fate so tightly? You ask, but as always, it refuses to reply.

Against your better judgment, your feet bring you closer towards him. He has his back towards you, his feet pumping him higher and higher and you half expect him to swing in a perfect arc like a gymnast on parallel bars. You have to keep your distance a bit, lest you get the wind knocked out of you by his signature stompers.

You clear your throat, and the boy stops mid-swing and nearly catapults himself into the spongey, playground floor. Hunched over and wheezing, Jungkook directs his shocked eyes at you with a comical stare.

You raise a hand in greeting. A peace offering, maybe. “Hello—”

“I swear I’m not stalking you!” Jungkook interrupts as he scrambles to his feet. He bows deeply in remorse, the action so endearingly him. “S-sorry, I’ll make my way home now…”

“I don’t own the park, Jungkook. I was just saying hello…” You snort, wringing your hands uncomfortably. You grind your shoes into the ground, the sound of crunching leaves breaking the still air. “A-and… to say sorry, for earlier.”

“Sorry?” Jungkook repeats, confused. When he realizes what you mean, he waves his hands frantically. “No, no! Don’t be sorry! It was my fault for being so inconsiderate. I understand how you might misconstrue my actions, and I made things more awkward. I’ll consider your feelings more in the future…”

In the future… You cough, unwilling to meet his bright and honest gaze. If you stare too long, you fear you might go blind.

“I come here to the park often, when I feel too cramped inside my apartment,” Jungkook explains, frantic energy radiating off him in waves. He’s gesticulating too much, a clear sign that he’s trying to hide his nerves. You remember how he would do the same thing in high school, whenever he had to present his projects in front of the class.

You hold a hand up, a weak attempt to get him to calm down. “I’m not here to interrogate you. I just wanted to…” What is it that you wanted to do?

The two of you just stand awkwardly like that, similar to a few weeks ago when you discovered you were neighbors. You’re grasping at straws in your head, both conflicted for wanting to tell him something and running away. Even if you were to talk to him, what would you say? There’s a reason you told Jimin you didn’t want to talk—frankly, it’s mostly because you have no idea what to say or feel.

But you do know, the universe responds.

I ask you questions all the time, and this is how you respond?

Either that, or you’re going insane, the universe remarks.

Jungkook pulls out his phone, his fingers fumbling as he unlocks it. He takes a furtive step towards you, but thinks better of it. There’s a few feet of distance between you, but it feels like worlds apart. Close and yet so far. You recall how you’d easily pull him towards you in the past, how being together felt as natural as breathing.

“I know you absolutely hated it the last time I played my original song at the restaurant, so I refrained from performing any ever since that night. But that didn’t stop me from writing them. I was fine with keeping them locked in a vault forever, but…” He hesitates, searching you for any signs of discomfort. When he sees the carefully blank look on your face, he continues with trepidation.

“Can I try a song for you? You don’t have to say yes, and you’re free to tell me to fuck off and I’ll never even look at you ever again. Just…” He flails one last time, a choked sob making its escape from his throat.

Are you hopeless for wanting to say yes? Or were you reverting back to your old self who relied on him and believed in him so heavily? If you wanted him out of your life for good, you would have quit your job at the first sight of him. Maybe you were masochistic. Or maybe were you hopeful for a new start, a chance to rekindle a relationship that you’ve secretly always wanted to repair.

You have so much life ahead of you. Many more mistakes will be made and maybe they’ll haunt you when you’re older. But would it really be such a terrible gamble to take one more chance?

You nod, and seal your fate.

He presses play, and the soft strumming of a guitar fills the empty playground air.

Not for the first time, you wonder how it can be so easy for Jungkook to be so… honest. He spills his heart in every song that he writes, and you know he’s never been a great liar. He can’t help it, being genuine is in his DNA. This crashing waterfall, this boy with overflowing emotions—he sings what he thinks but feels terrified because of it. You might not understand his honesty, but you know that fear. You know it all too well.

He beholds himself to you—raw and unfiltered. A little battered and bruised, but still Jungkook. Behind everything, still the boy you’ve been yearning for.

Maybe this song is what will give you enough confidence to admit everything to him, too. As you stand there, listening to his mellow voice sing confessions to no one but you and the stars, you think you grow a little more courageous that day.

Maybe you won’t be able to tell him tonight. Maybe not tomorrow, nor next week either. But as you gaze back at his hopeful eyes, you know deep in your heart that you’ll find the words you’ve been looking for.

“I’ll keep waiting for you, if you let me.” Jungkook’s voice floats gently to you, and settles in your open palms. This time, you don’t let go

xxx

Months later, Jungkook stops working at the restaurant when an offer from a major record company arrives in his mail. Apparently, a big shot from the local radio station had pitched him to an employee at that company and they were all pleasantly surprised to find a hidden gem at a random bar and restaurant.

In your apartment, you stare outside your window and to where his home is—well, where it was. You wonder if he finished packing his things, ready to make the big move tomorrow. You stand up with a stretch, sparing a glance at your still broken shower. It would be nice to have one more shower at his place… And after that? Maybe you should start looking for a nicer apartment; somewhere far away might be nice.

Your phone rings, and you see his contact photo light up your screen. With a smile, you answer.

“Come over, if you want. I won’t make you,” Jungkook assures you.

You laugh lightly, already halfway out the door.

#bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts reader insert #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bangtan #bts #bts fanfic

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jjungkookislife · 1 year ago

Text

Home for the Holidays Pt. 2 (M)

pairing: jungkook x f. reader

genre: fake dating au, f2l, christmas au, smut [18+] Put your age in your bio so you don’t get blocked please 💜 this is an 18+ blog

summary: Jungkook is in desperate need to find a girlfriend for Christmas. His mom has nagged and nagged about him bringing someone home for the holidays. Determined, Jungkook recruits his friends in hopes of finding the right girl to take home. In need of a place to stay, and no plans for Christmas, you answer his friend’s ad.

You have 25 days to convince not only his parents but his grandmother that you’re in a real relationship, solid enough to get through Christmas with the Jeons.

wc: 14.3k

warnings: pet names (babe, baby, sweetheart, honey, love, darling, good girl, doll), food/food mention, mention of conning JK's grandmother, mention of a blowup doll, making out, marking (scratching, biting, hickeys), jungkook has a motorcycle but his grandmother forbids him from using it while she's there, mention of jungkook's grandfather's death, one-bed trope, mention of slot machines, mention of a breeding kink, reader is on the pill, mention of being self-conscious (reader), mention of drowning in melting snow due to embarrassment, hair pulling, jungkook is a consent king (and it's hot af, okay?), fingering (f. receiving), handjob (m. receiving), oral sex (f. giving), unprotected sex, spanking, multiple orgasms, creampie

a/n: a HUGE thank you to @btsgotjams27 for allowing me to scream about this JK in her inbox for weeks! and for helping me go over the ending! thank you, thank you, thank you!

read part one here

date: January 12, 2024

The moment you set foot in Jungkook’s family home, it was like stepping foot in a department store the day after Thanksgiving.

Holiday decor sits on every inch of the living room wall—there are snowflakes, snowmen, Santas, and jolly words on every bit you see.

A giant Christmas tree takes up a large portion of the living room in a corner far from the fireplace. Large red bows hung from the branches, and a gold star sat on the top. A candle on the coffee table burns, filling the home with its vanilla cookie scent.

The dining room had an elegant arrangement of candles and ribbons. A glass jar of red and gold ornaments sat in the middle as a centerpiece.

“Jungkook!” Came an elated greeting from the kitchen. An older woman came rushing toward him, her hands cupping his cheeks as she hugged him tightly.

Jungkook grunted when he was pulled to her height, swaying side to side as she hugged him.

“Never leave me,” she nearly sobbed dramatically. You bit back a laugh.

“Mom,” Jungkook wheezed. “You’re scaring my girlfriend. She doesn’t know you’re joking.”

“I’m not joking,” his mom laughs as she squeezes him one last time before releasing him.

“Mom!”

Jungkook’s mom ignored him as she stepped toward you.

“Hello,” you wave meekly. You introduce yourself, and she smiles.

“I’m Aera,” Jungkook’s mom introduces herself as she pulls you into a hug. “It’s so nice to meet you! Jungkook said nothing but good things about you. I swear he’s so in love!”

“Mom!” Jungkook hissed as he ran his hand over his face.

You giggle, linking arms with Aera. “Is that so?”

Jungkook watches as the two of you head toward the kitchen, arm in arm, while he rolls the suitcases further into the house after shutting the front door.

“Oh, Jungkook,” his mom says as she has you sit at the table. “You’re in Seojun’s old room, and this sweetheart is in yours.”

Jungkook nods as he locks eyes with you, silently asking if you’ll be okay for a few minutes while he takes the luggage upstairs.

“Here,” Aera hands you a small dessert. “Seojun made these just for you. You’ll meet him tomorrow along with his fiancée, Saraí.”

“Ooh, chocolate,” you grin as you take the chocolate and take a bite. You moan from how good it tastes, melting right on your tongue.

Aera claps her hands, turning on her heel as she grabs a few more desserts for you to try.

By the time Jungkook joins you, you’re on your third dessert.

“Mom,” he sighs. “Please don’t force-feed my girlfriend. She just got here.”

Aera frowns at her son. “Fine. You open up.”

Jungkook dodges a brownie bite and sits beside you. His mom heads back to the kitchen to grab drinks as the front door opens and shuts.

“Sorry,” Jungkook apologizes. “I told her to wait at least thirty minutes before she stuffed you full of chocolate and desserts.”

“Hello,” a voice calls. You smile, though nerves still eat at you when you realize Jungkook’s father has arrived home.

“Dad!” Jungkook rises from his seat to hug his dad tightly. Jungkook looks just like him, though a little taller and broader.

You rise from your seat, wiping your hands on your pants in a poor attempt to clean them.

You introduce yourself to Jungkook’s dad, shaking his hand.

“Nice to meet you, honey. I’m Dae.”

“We’re gonna go get settled in,” Jungkook says as he takes your hand. “We’ll be down for dinner.”

“When am I seeing Jimin, Joon, Tae, Jin, and Yoongi?” Aera asks her son. “It’s bad enough that Hoseok won’t join us this year.”

“He had plans, Mom,” Jungkook explained.

“Love, the kids just got home to their parents. Let them take their shoes off before you host a reunion,” Dae chuckles. Aera nods, going for her house phone to ring up Jimin’s mom across the street to chat about their boys.

Jungkook uses the distraction to lead you toward the stairs.

“I’m so sorry,” Jungkook groans as he plops down on the desk chair of his old bedroom. “I thought I had a minute or something before she started feeding you.”

“It’s okay,” you giggle as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Your mom is just excited.”

“I’ll say,” Jungkook grumbles as he wraps his arms around your waist. “Thanks for doing this.”

“No problem! Besides, those brownie bites are delicious!”

Jungkook chuckles. “There’s plenty more downstairs. Lemme show you around.”

Jungkook shows you where the bathroom is. His room is across the hall from yours, while his parents' room is further down the hallway. There’s another stairway upstairs that leads to the entertainment/game room. Downstairs is an office, a guest bathroom, and a laundry room.

The backyard is through the back door in the kitchen, and the door near the living room leads to the garage. It’s all pretty simple to memorize. You’ll mostly be on the second floor unless you have to use the kitchen or living room.

By the time you’re back in the kitchen, Jimin’s sitting at one of the chairs with a plate full of brownies and a glass of milk. He gives you a chocolaty smile as Mrs. Jeon sets a plate of cookies beside him.

“Got enough to share, Jimin?” Jungkook asks as he pulls a chair out for you before he sits beside you.

“No,” Jimin swallows his bite and downs half a glass of milk.

“Jimin,” Aera laughs, and Jimin reluctantly pushes the plate of cookies toward you and Jungkook.

“So,” Dae smiles at you. “How did you and Jungkook meet?”

“School.”

“Jimin.” You say, cringing at Jungkook’s answer being different from yours.

His parents look confused for a moment before Jimin speaks up.

“I met her in one of my classes, and we became friends. Then Jungkook stole her from me,” Jimin jokes.

Jungkook turns red. “I didn’t steal her! You said you were just friends!”

You laugh with his parents. The two men bicker back and forth like children.

“I always had a crush on Jungkook. The moment I saw him, I knew he was special,” you admit. Jungkook pauses his fake fight to look at you; his eyes are soft, and something sparkles deep within.

Even Jimin stares silently. He knew you had a crush on Kook the moment you laid eyes on him, but there was no way you were this great of an actress. After all, he had been the one to go with you to audition for Cinderella, and you tanked. Sorry to say so.

“Oh, isn’t that sweet?! True love!” Aera sings as she clasps her hands.

“Mom!” Jungkook protests, feeling his ears burn from embarrassment. Perhaps he should have prepared you for his over-enthusiastic parents.

“I hear wedding bells!” Aera continues until Dae grabs her and leads her out of the room.

“Come on, let’s go get their pajamas.”

The three of you wait until you hear their footsteps disappear up the stairs.

Jimin exhales dramatically. “You couldn’t even get the first lie correct?”

“We tried!” Jungkook hisses in response.

“Yeah,” you nod vehemently. “We got it right anyhow. We just fumbled a bit. No biggie.”

“The group chat isn’t gonna like this,” Jimin sighs. “Are you sure you can pull this off without us here?”

“It was just a little mishap,” Jungkook waved his hand. “We’ve got this.”

Jimin looks unsure but says nothing else as he gulps his milk down and rises from his seat.

“Okay, I better get back to my family. I only snuck out for treats.”

You laugh as you hug him after he’s set his glass in the dishwasher.

“Come around whenever,” Jimin instructs, kissing your forehead before waving to Jungkook.

“What’s up next?” You ask your boyfriend.

“Probably Christmas pajamas and a movie, then dinner and bedtime,” Jungkook replies as his parents' footsteps come down the stairs.

“Here they come.”

The evening flies by after you receive your pajamas. You thank the Jeons profusely as you put them on.

The couple has gone to bed, leaving you and Jungkook to finish the last two minutes of the movie.

Jungkook begins to clean up as soon as the credits roll before the two of you head up the stairs.

Hushed voices greet you as you reach the landing.

“I don’t know, Dae. Something seems fishy,” Aera said softly.

“You’re overthinking this, love. Maybe they’re just respectful or shy.” Dae countered.

“Well, Saraí and Seojun were always kissing and hugging. It just seems a little off.” Aera states.

Jungkook looks at you, worry evident on his face.

“Maybe they’re not as comfortable with PDA. That’s fine by me,” Dae chuckles as he tells his wife to go to bed.

Aera does so reluctantly.

Jungkook takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom you are occupying for your stay. He shuts the door as quietly as possible before he sits on the bed and pats the spot beside him.

Once you’re on the bed sitting beside him, he wrings his hands in his lap.

“I suppose we need to be more hands-on,” he states nervously.

“How about we wake up early tomorrow and watch a movie in the living room? We can cuddle and kiss a little when we hear them get up,” you suggest.

Jungkook nods in agreement.

“Do you need anything before I go?”

You walk Jungkook to the bedroom door. You bite your bottom lip, suddenly feeling shy. He is your fake boyfriend, though.

“A goodnight kiss?”

Jungkook’s cheeks warm at your words, but he gently grips your chin with his fingers before he presses his lips to yours. Your hands grip his shirt, holding him close as the kiss deepens and your lips muffle his moans.

“Good night,” Jungkook whispers with one last kiss to your lips.

“Good night,” you whisper as you watch him go. Your heart flutters as you shut the door and press your back against it. You squeal in delight and faintly hear Jungkook chuckle as he heads to his room.

You ignore the heat that rises to your cheeks before scrambling to get into bed.

The next morning, Jungkook shakes you awake gently. “Come on, darling.”

“Mmh,” you whine, swatting at him in your sleep.

Jungkook dodges the next swipe, capturing your hand and kissing your palm.

“Baby,” he whispers as he shakes you again. You curse, peering open one eye and then the other.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you grumble as you sit up. Jungkook grins smugly. “Or I’d bop you on that cute nose of yours.”

Jungkook laughs, shaking his head. “Come on, babe. My parents will be up soon.”

“I’m sleepy,” you huff but get out of bed and follow Jungkook downstairs. He’s already got a movie playing in the background and two mugs of hot chocolate sitting on the coffee table.

You try not to squeal in excitement when you see he’s poured yours into a snowman mug.

By the time Jungkook’s parents make their way downstairs, the both of you are cuddling on the couch. Jungkook’s got your head on his shoulder, feeding you pretzels and holding your hand.

Aera and Dae exchange a look but say nothing other than their morning greetings as they get ready for work.

Dae is out in ten minutes, promising to be home early, while Aera stops by the living room to kiss each of you on the top of your head on her way out.

“Seojun and Saraí will be here for dinner,” she calls as she grabs her keys and heads out the door.

You spend the day with Jungkook watching movies and playing video games upstairs. Jimin and Joon pop in for a quick visit, but their parents call them home for lunch and they leave you alone with Jungkook again.

“I think we’re doing pretty well,” you muse as you hold Jungkook’s hand while he waits for the game to load on the TV screen.

He chuckles. “Seojun might mess it up.”

You giggle, shaking your head.

“I think we’ve got this,” you state as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, and the mole beneath his lip. Jungkook sighs happily, dropping the controller on the carpet before he cups your face.

Fake or not, he genuinely enjoyed kissing you. He wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to do so now.

You moan when he pushes you back onto the couch, your legs on either side of his hips. His lips feel soft against yours as your hands slide under his shirt.

“Kook,” you moan softly as you move your head to allow him more room, his lips burning in their wake as he trails kisses down to the collar of your shirt.

Your fingers weave through his long black hair, tugging when his lips nip at your skin. He moans your name softly, groaning when you beg him for more.

His hand grips your hip, squeezing as his hips rock against you. A curse escapes you as you melt beneath his broad shoulders, your nails dragging down his back.

“Fuck, baby.” He groans, his lips finding yours as his tongue pushes past the seam of your lips as the kiss deepens. You whine as you feel him press against you, your hands greedy as you pull him impossibly close.

“Shit!” A voice startles you.

You pull away from Jungkook, face warm as Jungkook gets off you.

“Sorry, we should have knocked.” A woman apologizes. She’s shorter than Jungkook and the man beside her. Her hair is curly and black, falling in waves down her back. Her beautiful golden skin appears glowing and rivals the brightness of her smile.

“We did knock,” the man says, looking at her. She jutted him in the ribs with her elbow before turning to Jungkook.

“We’ll be downstairs,” she announced in a rush as she shoved the man out the door before shutting it.

Jungkook groans, hiding his cherry-red face in his hands. “That was Seojun and Saraí.”

“Oh!” You exclaim with wide eyes. “Fuck.”

“Well,” Jungkook said, carding a hand through his hair. “At least Seojun will believe us now.”

You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. You wrap your arms around his waist and kiss the corner of his mouth.

“To be continued?” You’re not sure where this bout of confidence has come from, but you know what you felt, and Jungkook wanted you just like you did him.

“Tonight?” He asks in a sultry tone that makes you tighten around nothing. His dark-hooded gaze makes your pulse rise, and it takes everything in you not to push him onto the couch and continue where you left off.

Jungkook holds your gaze, his tattooed hand resting on your lower back, a little too close to your behind. You bite your bottom lip, and his eyes watch you carefully as you slowly take a step back. Fire builds between you, nearly suffocating you, and you’d gladly let it for another taste of his lips.

“Tonight,” you whisper as you head for the door. You swallow thickly as you eye him up and down, a hunger pooling deep inside you.

Jungkook presses his thumb to his bottom lip as he devours you with his gaze, knowing one more lingering look will be all it takes to have you screaming his name as loud as your lungs allow.

Ten minutes later, Jungkook and you join Seojun and Saraí in the living room. Jungkook introduced you to the couple as he sat beside you on the loveseat.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” Sarai exclaims. “Seojun thought you were imaginary.”

“Babe,” Seojun protests.

“¿Que no?” Sarai asks him with a raised brow. “Didn’t you say Kook probably had a blowup doll?”

Jungkook and Seojun burn brighter than Rudolph’s nose as they sink into the couches. You laugh along with Sarai at the men’s expense.

“I like you,” you said with a bright smile. “We’re gonna get along just fine.”

Sarai smiled, “We have to stick together.”

“Saraí,” Seojun whines. “We just got here. You can’t recruit my little brother’s girlfriend against me already.”

“Why not?” Saraí asks with a mischievous grin.

Seojun groans as he shakes his head, but his smile never dims as he looks at his fiancée. You cuddle up to Jungkook, and his arm drapes around you before he kisses the top of your head, almost second nature.

A few hours later, Saraí and you share the couch upstairs while the Jeon brothers fight over the working controller.

Saraí follows you on all your socials as she lies beside you. The both of you laugh as you show each other funny TikToks. Despite only knowing her a short amount of time, you’re glad she’s easygoing and loves to talk. It takes the pressure off you having to recall any information from Joon’s PowerPoint and flashcards, though the information is ready to be pulled at any moment should you need it.

“So then he takes me to the very top of the building,” Saraí gushes as she shows you a photo on her Instagram account. “You know, the ones with the glass panes you can stand on to overlook the city? Well, I was busy looking at the city while Seojun was turning green behind me! He’s terrified of heights, but he knew I wanted to go up there since forever, practically!”

“I almost threw up,” Seojun comments as he gives the controller to Jungkook, he’s no longer interested in fighting his younger sibling over the controller that doesn’t stick.

Saraí laughs. “I turned around to tell him to join me. The view was incredible!”

You hang on her every word as she swipes to another photo.

“And that’s when I noticed the mariachis and Seojun down on one knee. He even had my family there!” Saraí wipes a stray tear as she recounts her proposal and shows you more photos of the grand event.

Seojun smiles at Saraí, hearts in his eyes. He turns to Jungkook with a raised brow. “It’ll be you two before you know it.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Jungkook coughs as he looks at you for help. His eyes have tripled in size from panic.

“Yeah,” you nod, feeling like a bobblehead. “We’ve only been together for a bit.”

“Four months?” Seojun asks.

“Five!” You and Jungkook answer in unison, startling the happy couple.

You clear your throat. “Almost six.”

“Nowhere near you guys time together,” Jungkook adds as he nervously tweaks the buttons on the controller.

Saraí waves her hand. “You’ll hear wedding bells before you know it.”

“Yeah,” Seojun chuckles. “Ours.”

The two giggled before you and Jungkook exchanged nervous looks.

How far would you take this?

Dinner passes without incident. Aera and Saraí are elbow-deep in wedding plans, scheduling lunch with Saraí’s mom before the evening ends.

You excuse yourself when your friends show up, and the lot of you head upstairs with a plate of warm cookies accompanied by a tray filled with glasses of milk and mugs of hot chocolate.

Seokjin is on the lookout, watching the door as Joon gets comfortable beside Jimin and Yoongi.

“How’s it going?” Taehyung asks as he takes Jungkook’s phone to upload a few more pictures to Instagram.

“Yeah,” Joon says through a mouthful of cookies. “Jimin says you fucked up the first question Momma Jeon asked.”

“Jimin,” Jungkook hisses.

“The first one?” Seokjin scoffs as he looks over his shoulder at you. “Babe, I would have done better.”

“I’m the one who needed to date someone!” Jungkook hisses louder.

Seokjin shrugs. “I said what I said.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes at his friends and calms down when you grip his arm.

“His parents thought we weren’t all over each other like Saraí and Seojun. We have to kick it up a little for them,” you state, your lip caught between your teeth.

“Damn,” Yoongi sighs. “If they see through it, your grandmother won’t fall for it, Kook.”

“Don’t give up now,” Jimin insists while holding a rough sketch. “We’ve worked so hard for this. I already started designing my room in Kook’s new place.”

“Give me that,” Jungkook rips the paper from Jimin’s hands and crumples it.

“I have copies,” Jimin smirks.

“Look,” Taehyung speaks up. “We’ve all done our part. We just gotta get through it.”

Namjoon nods. “Tae’s right. We all did what we said we’d do, even Hobi. He’ll be in town before the new year, and we can’t tell him the plan tanked. We all worked too hard for this. Let’s see it out.”

“I’m in,” Seokjin shrugs, feigning nonchalance by looking at his nails.

“Same,” Yoongi and Jimin add with a firm nod.

Joon and Tae look at the two of you.

Jungkook looks at you, and you nod. You were already knee-deep in it; might as well make it to the other side.

“Alright, we’re in,” Jungkook states ruefully.

“Don’t worry, one of us will try to be around when Grandmother Jeon arrives. It’ll be a piece of cake!” Jimin grins.

It was not a piece of cake.

And if it was, it was a shit cake.

Grandmother Jeon rolled up with enough suitcases to rival a traveling circus.

“Mother,” Dae gasps as he greets her at the front door. “What’s all this?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had!” Jungkook’s grandmother huffs as Dae and Jungkook help bring in the suitcases.

Aera dashes to the kitchen for refreshments, and you hurry after her in a panic.

“First, I misplaced my bingo winnings on the train. Then, they threatened to kick me off because Luna wouldn’t stop barking!” Grandmother Jeon looks at all her bags until Jungkook holds one away from him while he pinches his nose.

“Oh, there she is! Kook be a dear and take her outside. Rinse her dog carrier for me. These old bones aren’t what they used to be,” she says as Dae helps her to the couch and then shuts the front door.

“Mother,” Dae said as he sat beside her. “Why didn’t you call?”

“Oh, I didn’t want to be a bother!” She waves her hand about. Her glasses slip down her nose, and her hat is tilted.

“You’re never a bother, Mom,” Dae states as he helps her out of her shoes and faux fur coat.

“Good,” Grandmother Jeon states firmly. “Because Luna and I need a place to stay for the holidays.”

Jungkook freezes with Luna, a yapping black and white chihuahua in his arms. “What?”

Dae sends a glare at his son. “Of course, you can stay with us. What happened?”

“Dang cellphone made my reservations for next Christmas,” Grandmother Jeon huffed. “Dang things are called smartphones, more like dumb phones. Scheduled me for the wrong year!”

Dae exchanges a look with Jungkook, but neither says a word as you and Aera walk into the living room with coffee and cookies.

“Oh, Aera! You look lovely! Keeping my boys in line?” Grandmother Jeon asks with a smile.

“Always! We're so glad you’re staying with us,” Aera says genuinely, hugging the older woman.

“Ooh, you know me. I gotta spread a little holiday cheer everywhere I go,” Grandmother Jeon jokes before she spots you.

“And who is this marvelous woman hiding behind you, Aera?”

Jungkook opens the back door, puts Luna out, and rushes to your side before you can blink.

“Grandmother Jeon, this is my girlfriend,” Jungkook tells her your name, and her eyes light up like the fairy lights on the Christmas tree.

“I’m Grandmother Jeon or Minji, whichever you prefer, dear. Let me look at you,” she coos as she takes your hands and looks you up and down.

“You’re beautiful,” Minji grins widely.

“Thank you,” you smile shyly.

“And you know how to take a compliment. I like that! Confidence and a tough exterior are what you need to wrangle in these boys. They’ll give you more heart attacks than you can handle. Troublesome they are,” Minji shakes her head.

“Mom!”

“Grandmother!”

“What?” Minji raises a brow, daring them to protest further. “Am I lying?”

“No,” Jungkook and his father shake their heads, avoiding eye contact.

“Thought so,” Minji laughs. “Don’t worry, dear. Jungkook is the least troublesome of them all, though that motorcycle I saw on the driveway is enough to earn a lecture, Jeon Jungkook!”

“But-!”

“Jeon Dae, what did I tell you about my grandbabies riding those!” Minji sighs heavily as she lets you go.

“Mother,” Dae starts as Minji rises from the couch. “He’s old enough to make his own decisions.”

Minji whirls on Jungkook, a sharp, well-manicured nail poking his broad chest. “You stick to driving while I’m here, sweetie. I don’t think my old heart could take it seeing you riding around town on that motorcycle.”

“I promise,” Jungkook raises his hand, and Minji grins, reaching to pinch his cheek.

“Good boy,” she states before releasing him. “Now who’s gonna show this old bag of bones and her pup to her room?”

“Mother, you’re only-” Dae is cut off by a glare so icy it could freeze Hell and all its inhabitants.

“Get my dog, son. She gets cold without her winter wear,” Minji grumbles as she heads towards the stairs. “She’s your little sister, after all. You should treat her as such.”

“Mother,” Dae sighs heavily, but he knows it’s a losing battle. He opens the back door instead, and Luna walks into the home after wiping her feet on the mat.

“Jungkook, sweetie, be a doll and get her wipes from the pink bag for me. I have to get her cleaned up before dinner,” Minji says as Dae hands her the little chihuahua.

“She’s not going to expect Luna to have a seat at the table, is she?” You ask Jungkook’s mom as you watch Dae and Jungkook carry her bags up the stairs.

Aera says your name with a whimsical smile. “Expect the unexpected.”

Jungkook knows you’re trying your best not to stare, but you fail miserably.

Dinner is in the dining room with the large dining table that seats twelve, but there are only eight of you tonight.

Dae sits at the head of the table with his wife on the left and his mother on the right. Beside Aera, Jungkook has taken his spot while you sit beside him. However, you can’t help but look at Luna in her high chair across from him.

Seojun sits across from you with Saraí on his right. She smiles politely as she tries to muffle a laugh in her napkin. She was as surprised as you the first time Minji rolled into town with her dog and the high chair.

You’re sure Luna is eating out of a crystal bowl and drinking from a crystal goblet. The only thing that sparkles more than both is the ring sitting on Saraí’s finger.

“So, sweetheart,” Minji starts as she dabs at her mouth. “How did you meet our Kookie?”

“Mother,” Dae shoots an annoyed look her way that she waves off with a perfectly manicured hand.

“I’m merely curious,” Minji smiles softly, her pearls draped over her bubblegum pink dress. There’s not a silver hair out of place, nor is her lipstick smudged from eating and enjoying a glass of wine with dinner.

“We met through Jimin,” Jungkook answers for you, but Minji continues to stare at you, awaiting a response.

“We met through Jimin at school. Jimin and I shared a class and introduced me to Jungkook and his friends. I had a crush on him since the first time I saw him,” you can feel the heat rise in your cheeks as Jungkook takes your hand in his, kissing your knuckles before setting it on the table.

“So, who broke first?” Seojun asks with interest, ignoring his “aunt” as she chews on her steak.

“Jungkook,” you giggle as you recite the story Yoongi had concocted. “We went on a walk after dinner one night and he confessed. Asked me out for the next night, and we’ve been dating ever since.”

“We went to the beach for our first date,” Jungkook adds. “Shared a milkshake on the boardwalk.”

“My Kookie finally found someone!” Minji claps her hands, startling the dog beside her.

“Do you have pictures?” Aera questions as she rises from the table.

Luna finishes her meal, and Dae takes her outside while Jungkook and Seojun clear the table. You send Jungkook a wary look, but he smiles in reassurance, mouthing, “You’ve got this.”

“Let’s head to the living room for tea and hot chocolate,” Aera said as she dashed to the kitchen to grab drinks and desserts.

Saraí goes to help her while you help Minji to the couch.

“I don’t know how to snoop on the phone like Seojun loves to do,” Minji laughs as you take your phone out of your pocket.

“Ah, there’s my boy,” Minji says as she adjusts her glasses to look at your Lock Screen. A photo of you and Jungkook in matching Christmas sweaters greets her.

“He looks at you the way his grandfather looked at me before he passed. Love is a magical thing, dear. It can get you through almost anything,” Minji says, full of wonder as she stares off into the distance for a moment before she clears her throat.

Your heart sinks in your chest. Jungkook hadn’t mentioned his grandfather before and seeing Minji now and going through with this plan was making you feel sick.

“I hope we didn’t miss anything,” Saraí sings as she sets down a tray of hot drinks. She hands one to Minji before she takes one for herself.

Aera and Dae join you, while Luna curls up under the Christmas tree on the tree skirt beside the presents.

“I hope we did,” Jungkook utters, only to be elbowed by his older brother.

“I saw a few photos on Instagram this week,” Seojun comments as he grabs a cookie. “You both look cute.”

Saraí helps Aera log into her account so she can see the photos on Instagram while you show Minji the pictures on your phone.

“The two of you are adorable,” Minji coos as you show her another photo. Jungkook watches on from beside his father, the two sharing the couch closest to the fireplace.

For a moment, Jungkook can pretend that it’s real. That you fit into his family perfectly, just like Saraí does. That they adore you just like he does and that you could possibly love him.

Thirty minutes later, Minji is yawning and calling for Luna. The two head upstairs slowly, yawning and wishing everyone a good night.

“Oh, dear,” Aera says as she looks at you and Jungkook. “We gave Grandmother Jeon Seojun’s old room.”

You look at Jungkook with wide eyes.

“You don’t mind sharing Jungkook’s old room, do you?” Aera asked as she and Saraí cleared up the drinks and cookies. “It’ll be just like at home.”

“Um… yeah,” you cough as you look at your feet. “Just like home.”

“Perfect,” Dae says as he helps clean up. “Why don’t the two of you unpack in Jungkook’s room, and we’ll see you in the morning?”

“Sure, Dad,” Jungkook takes your hand, saying goodnight to his family before leading you up the stairs.

On the landing, you hear his grandmother and Luna snoring already, and you wonder how they could fall asleep so quickly.

Jungkook leads you into the bedroom and shuts the door, pressing himself against it.

You’re careful not to trip on his suitcase as you open yours to get your pajamas out. You’ve been following Hoseok’s strict clothing schedule and you’ve sent Hoseok photo confirmation every day so far.

“I’m so sorry,” Jungkook whispers as he walks toward you. “I never thought this would happen.”

“What do we do?”

“I’ll sleep upstairs in the game room,” Jungkook answers. His back already hurts from imagining a night on the lumpy couch.

“Your parents will know something’s up,” you hissed in response.

“I’ll sleep on the floor, then,” Jungkook shrugs. “Problem solved.”

“But it’s your room. Your bed.”

“And I got you into this mess,” Jungkook frowns. “It’s only for a few nights, anyway. No biggie.”

You bite your lip but say nothing as you take your pajamas and step out of the bedroom to go to the bathroom. You change and brush your teeth before going to the room once again.

Jungkook goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth and do his skincare routine before returning to the room.

He grabs extra blankets from the closet and a few pillows before he lies down on the floor.

The two of you stare at the ceiling in silence.

“Well, this is awkward,” Jungkook chuckles.

You throw a stuffed animal at him.

“Jungkook!”

“What? You were thinking about it!”

“You didn’t have to say it,” you grumble as you roll on your side to stare at him. You pull the covers over your shoulders, shivering in your oversized tee and pajama shorts. Hoseok dropped the ball with this one outfit, but maybe he didn’t care too much about your sleeping clothes.

“Goodnight, sweet girlfriend of mine,” Jungkook coos, wiggling his toes in those dreaded toe socks.

“Goodnight,” you huff, sticking your tongue out at him.

Wednesday greeted you with Luna’s obnoxious barking.

You groaned as you placed a pillow over your head, hoping to drown out the sound, but alas, it was no use.

“Koo,” you whine, throwing a pillow at him. He grunts in response from his makeshift bed on the floor.

“I hear it too,” he murmurs as he tries to cling to sleep, but it’s useless.

Cursing, Jungkook sits up. He stretches and yawns for a minute before getting to his feet and folding his makeshift bed of blankets and pillows. His back and neck would be hating him all day.

With all the excitement of Grandmother Jeon and your new sleeping arrangements, there wasn’t any time for any practice.

Now you have bedhead and morning breath, and god, you hope you don’t have dried drool on the corner of your mouth. You can’t let Jungkook see you like this!

“Close your eyes!” You hiss as you scramble out of his bed.

Jungkook's eyes widen in alarm. “What?! Why?!”

“Just do it! Don’t look at me!” You hiss as you hear the barking move further away. You try to step over your fake boyfriend but trip on a blanket and fall beside him.

Jungkook grunts when you elbow him in the stomach, and before either of you can move, the door opens, and Jungkook’s mother stands there with wide eyes.

“Um, breakfast will be ready in a bit,” she says as she shuts the door as quickly as possible. Perhaps next time she’ll remember to knock, but after the commotion, she was worried someone was hurt.

“Great,” Jungkook sighs as he falls back into his pillows to stare at the ceiling.

What a great way to start his morning.

Jungkook’s parents and grandmother are gone for the rest of the day. Something about slot machines and Grandmother Jeon feeling lucky… or did she say she was gonna get lucky?

“Luna Patrice Jeon,” you huff, stomping your foot as you try to get her coat on her, but she wriggles in Jungkook’s beefy arms.

The two of you were supposed to be outside five minutes ago, and all your friends and their dogs were waiting for you and Jungkook.

Jungkook had managed to put Luna’s booties on, but she was a squirmy little thing when it came to her coat and earmuffs. Minji had been very thorough with her instructions, and Jungkook promised to watch his aunt.

His dog-aunt.

“Hi, pretty girl,” Seokjin coos as he lets himself into the Jeon home.

Luna pants as Seokjin rubs between her ears and easily gets the coat on her. About four inches of snow had fallen overnight, and the dogs were eager to play at the park just down the road.

“There we go, Luna. That wasn’t so bad, huh?” Seokjin grins as he kisses the dog on the forehead and puts the earmuffs on.

“God, he’s a dog whisperer,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, but Seokjin ignores him as he sets Luna in the stroller with her blanket and some treats. He zips the stroller shut and carries it out onto the sidewalk.

“I can’t help it if the ladies love me,” Seokjin smirks as he sends a wink your way. You smile bashfully, giggling when he blows you a kiss.

“Hey!” Jungkook stomps his foot. His cute bunny nose scrunching. “You’re my girlfriend!”

“Better keep her close, JK!” Jimin teases as he pushes his dog stroller.

Namjoon and his little dog wear matching coats and booties, leading the group down the road. Taehyung pushes his stroller, where his Pomeranian sleeps wrapped in a fluffy blanket, and Seokjin carries Hoseok’s dog that he may have snatched for this outing.

“Who knew we’d end up pushing strollers this Christmas break instead of clubbing,” Yoongi chuckles as he meets up with you at the end of the block. In his stroller with the spinning rims sits his dog, Holly.

“Almost seems like we’re growing up,” Taehyung wipes a fake tear from his cheek as the group pushes the strollers on the sidewalk.

“Who do you think will push one of these with an actual child first?” Namjoon asks as his dog sniffs the snow, his nose freezing at the contact.

“Jungkook,” the group answers as Jimin and Taehyung push their strollers in a light jog, racing to the first tree they see a few feet away.

“Pfft, why me? I’m the baby,” Jungkook protests.

“Aren’t you the one with the breeding kink?” Yoongi smirks as he walks past the two of you.

Jungkook is left flabbergasted. His face rivals a tomato’s as he feels his ears burn just as bright.

“I told you that in confidence!”

“Whoops!” Yoongi cackles as he joins the race between Tae and Jimin.

Jungkook wonders if four inches of melting snow would be enough to drown him.

You push the stroller with Luna, giggling as you jog past Jungkook.

“Sucks for you!” You call over your shoulder. “I’m on the pill!”

Jungkook curses Yoongi, running after him as he threatens to end the Min line with him.

Namjoon smiles as he walks beside Seokjin, enjoying the chaos he created from his question.

“You’re an evil little man,” Seokjin cackles as Namjoon laughs and follows the group.

Thursday afternoon is filled with last-minute Christmas shopping.

Seojun and Saraí have joined you. Seokjin and Jimin tagged along, but it seemed they weren’t as necessary now as they thought they would be.

Sure, Seokjin still curbed the conversation when you or Jungkook failed to answer a question or two about your relationship, but it wasn’t anything detrimental. The group honestly thought you had this in the bag, and with Christmas only three days away, there wasn’t a whole lot to worry about.

Jungkook rubs his neck for the fifth time. He can’t seem to get rid of the soreness he’s gotten from sleeping on the floor.

You pull him away after you lose Jimin and Seokjin in a department store with blasting Christmas music.

“Sleep with me tonight,” you said as you held Jungkook’s hand in a surprisingly empty aisle. The hustle and bustle of shoppers falls into the background, and all Jungkook can hear is the rapid drumming of his heart.

“W-what?” He stutters with wide eyes. He toys with his lip ring, a nervous habit of his.

“Sleep with me on the bed tonight, Kook. You’re obviously in a lot of pain, and I feel bad.” You frown as you turn him around to rub his neck and shoulders.

Jungkook resists the urge to curse, biting his lip to hide a moan as you get into the muscles. Fuck, he really needed to sleep in a proper bed soon.

“Are you sure?” Jungkook asks as he slowly pulls your hands off him to hold in his.

“It’s only for a few more days,” you shrug. “Grandmother Jeon leaves for her cruise before the new year, so why not?”

Jungkook is reluctant, but as a cramp hits his neck.

He nods. “If you’re sure.”

“Definitely,” you smile as you lace your fingers with his to lead him out of the aisle. You lead him out of the store and toward the giant Christmas tree in the center of the mall.

You take your phone out and snap a cute picture of the two of you before looking at it and see mistletoe on one of the branches above your head.

Jungkook blushes as he pecks your lips, but you pull him back in for another kiss. You fist his jacket in your hand as you pull him close, your lips moving with his perfectly as the cool metal of his lip ring brushes your lips. You moan when he nips at your lip, gently sucking it before releasing it.

His dark gaze sends tingles down your spine as you wrap your arms around his neck, and he leans in to kiss you again.

“Tonight,” Jungkook murmured against your lips, the two of you stuck like magnets, unwilling to pull apart.

“Tonight,” you agree as you kiss him again, your fingers tugging on his lush locks just enough to make him curse against your lips.

“You’ll pay for that, baby,” he groans when you do it again.

“I can’t wait, Koo.”

Your shower takes longer than usual that night. You shave, exfoliate, and lotion every bit of you that Jungkook might touch.

You’re nervous but excited at the thought of him touching you. Just kissing you nearly sends you over the edge sometimes, and the way he grips your hips as if he must be anchored to you to breathe, well, it’s a nice feeling.

By the time you’re climbing into bed, the house is silent. Jungkook turns on his mood lamp, and his playlist plays softly in the background.

He’s made sure to lock the door this time to keep his mother out.

A purple towel is draped over his shoulders as he plops down on the desk chair. He gives his hair one more rub, but he’s already had the hairdryer on it for a bit.

You try not to ogle his bare chest, the colorful sleeve of tattoos grabbing your attention almost

immediately as he sets the towel down.

“Mind if I sleep without a shirt on? I tend to run hot,” he explains as he tongues his ring.

“That’s fine,” you squeak as heat rushes to your cheeks. You pull the covers to your chest, wiggling your toes as you avoid meeting his gaze. Though his abs are now in your view, and your thighs press together in response. What you wouldn’t give to kiss every beautiful ridge of his torso, taking your time on his sensitive brown nipples. You wonder if he’d ever get them pierced.

“Need anything while I’m up, babe?” Jungkook asks as he stretches, his arms raised over his head and you nearly whimper as you feast on his perfect physique.

You’re nearly salivating by the time he’s finished stretching. He tilts his head as he waits for your answer but you blink owlishly and finally meet his gaze.

“Hmm?” You ask as you blink again as he laughs. He shakes his head as he crosses the distance between you, moving the blankets out of the way as he gets into bed with you.

“You’re adorable,” he whispers as he pecks your nose.

You smile, clearing your throat as you lie on the bed. Jungkook turns on his side to face you, and you do the same. His arm drapes over your waist, and you snuggle in closer.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers, almost as if it were a secret. Perhaps it is with the way he strokes your waist, refusing to make eye contact; afraid of what his words will shift.

“I’m glad I’m here too, Kook. I don’t want to be anywhere else,” you admit as his gaze meets yours. He studies you for a few moments. His beautiful eyes sparkle like the stars in the night sky, shining brighter and brighter with each passing second until they flutter shut and his lips mold to yours.

“Jungkook,” his name rolls off your tongue so sweetly.

“Yeah, baby?” He asks in between kisses, his hands never straying from your hips until you guide them upward to cup your tits. He curses, dark eyes piercing through your soul as you make him squeeze them.

“Fuck,” you whimper.

Jungkook kisses you again, swallowing your moans as his thumbs brush your pert nipples. Your hands settle on his broad shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he trails kisses down your neck until he hits that one spot that has you seeing stars behind your lids.

“Jungkook,” you sigh as you part your legs for him. He settles between them as your nails rake down his broad muscular back. You’d love to kiss every inch of it. Leave your mark behind for all to see. For now, you’ll settle for your scratch marks, storing each of his delicious sounds for later.

Fiery lips meet yours as his hips rock against you. His hands feel every bit of you, moving when he notes any hesitation.

“Is this okay?” He asks softly, his gaze locked on yours.

You nod.

“I need words, baby,” he says as he brushes his thumb along your jaw. “I need to hear it.”

“Please,” you swallow thickly, mesmerized by his soft doe eyes. “I want it. Want you.”

Jungkook traces your bottom lip with his thumb, admiring your beauty for a moment before he kisses you again as if it were the last time.

Time means nothing to you as you melt beneath him. His hands are hot against your flesh, needy where they meet to pull you closer. Your name escapes him between moans and gasps, your hand guiding him between your legs.

“Please,” you beg as he pushes your shorts to the side, groaning when he feels how wet you are.

“No panties, darling?” He grins as he kisses your jaw and trails downward.

“Didn’t think I needed them,” you gasp when his fingers brush your clit. He’s teasing you. He wants to see how far he can take you before you beg him for more, plead and whine until he gives you just what you need.

Jungkook licks his lips, shaking his long hair out of his eyes before he tongues his lip ring. His breath fans against your heated skin, teeth gently nipping your earlobe as he whispers, “You were right.”

Your thighs shake at the sound of his seductive tone, spreading further for him as he lifts your shirt to bunch above your breasts.

“Keep that right there, baby. Can you do that for me?” He raises a brow, and you nod.

“Yes.”

“Good girl,” he praises, kissing your lips before making his way down until his fingers are tugging on your flimsy sleep shorts.

“Can I take these off?” Jungkook asks as he meets your eyes. You nod, feeling fire pool deep in your belly. You want him desperately, almost embarrassingly, with how soaked you are for him already.

When he doesn’t make a move to take them off, you remember he wants you to be vocal about your consent.

“Yes, please.”

Jungkook pulls the shorts down your legs at a snail’s pace, giving you enough time to change your mind if you wish to. You encourage him by lifting your hips and kicking the shorts off to be lost on his bedroom floor.

You don’t get a chance to be self-conscious as he cups your face and kisses you so deeply, that you almost wonder if he’s in love with you.

The pounding of your heart is deafening as the kiss deepens and his hips press against your cunt. Your name rolls off his tongue, cursing and groaning when his hard cock grinds against you.

“You’ve soaked my sweatpants,” he laughs breathily, and you clench around nothing. Your face feels like it’s burning, but from lust or embarrassment, you’re not sure. Jungkook kisses your cheeks, your nose, and finally your lips.

“S-sorry,” you apologized as he rubs your clit, his nimble fingers circling it just to make you whine. Jungkook teases your entrance with his tattooed fingers, loving the way you whimper and beg for more, biting your bottom lip to keep from getting too loud.

“Fuck, baby,” you moan when he finally sinks two fingers in knuckle-deep. You clench around them as he slowly fucks them into you, his thumb rubbing your clit as he focuses on the rise and fall of your chest.

Jungkook palms his cock with his other hand, moaning softly when your eyes lock. He smirks as you reach for him and he places your hand on his cock.

“Can you take them off?” You ask bashfully, and he chuckles before slowly taking his fingers out of you. He sucks them into his mouth, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head as he gets a taste of you.

Fuck, he’d have you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day for the rest of his life if you’d let him.

Your thighs tremble as he steps back, cunt soaked and dripping onto his sheets. You’re the first girl he’s had in his bed like this and he hopes your scent lingers long after you’re back home.

Jungkook is a vision. An Adonis among men. Michaelangelo himself would have shed a tear upon gazing at the masterpiece that is Jeon Jungkook.

Speechless, you reach for him as he chuckles. He takes your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently before placing it on his chest.

“Do as you wish, my love,” Jungkook says as he follows your hand with his hooded gaze.

Your brain seems to be empty of all thoughts except Jungkook. His name, his body, that sinful smile that tugs at the corner of his lips. He’s eyeing you with mirth, licking his lips as your hand descends until it’s cupping his erection.

“Fuck,” he breathes as you stroke him, your fingers sliding under his boxers to feel the weight of him in your palm. He groans, whispering your name as you continue to stroke him, pausing only to spit in your hand. He takes the moment to tug his boxers off.

Jungkook kisses you as you touch him again, his fingers finding their home between your thighs as he gets you to nearly sing his name in praise as you tighten around him.

“Wish you were wrapped around my fat cock, babe. I’d make you scream even louder,” he goads as you muffle your cries in his broad shoulder right beside his little scar.

“Jungkook, please,” you beg as he kisses you deeply. It’s hot, messy, all teeth and tongues and desperate touches as his cock pressed against your clit. You’re soaking wet, dripping onto the sheets and allowing his cock to glide easily, the fat head bumping against your clit as your legs wrap around him trembling at his sides.

“Koo!” You whine, biting down on his shoulder. Hasty kisses meet his skin as you soothe the pain of your love bite. Your body becomes overwhelmed with pleasure, arching into him as you orgasm, squeezing his fingers until they’re soaked beyond his wrist.

Jungkook cries out your name, lips finding yours in a sloppy kiss that swallows his moans and groans as he cums all over your cunt. His hips rock against you until he’s well spent, cock too sensitive to go on.

“Shit!” He breathes as he lies beside you with his arm over his head.

You’re warm and sticky beside him, his cum coating your skin generously. Jungkook kisses your cheek as he pulls you to him, using his other hand to fix his boxers.

He doesn’t like the way they cling to him and he’ll be sure to clean himself up as well as you before you go to sleep.

Silence fills the space between you as you stare at each other with bashful smiles and gentle touches. Jungkook kisses your lips softly, his fingers caressing your cheek.

“I really do like you, ya know,” he admits, and it sends your heart soaring into the heavens.

You bite back a giant grin as you lace your fingers together. “I really like you too.”

Jungkook blushes, kissing you once more before he climbs out of bed to get cleaned up. He assures you he’ll be back in a few minutes and he cleans you up with a warm washcloth and helps you to the bathroom.

Once you’re both in bed again, he snuggles into you. His fluffy hair splays on your chest as he snores softly. You smile to yourself as you hold back a yawn.

Jungkook sleeps soundly as you stroke his hair, hoping this can be more than just pretend.

Christmas Eve brings a blanket of snow and Seojun and Saraí.

Though you and Jungkook haven’t done more than fool around that one night, you’ve found it hard to keep your hands to yourself.

Seojun, Saraí, and Jungkook took you sledding at one of their favorite spots.

Jimin, Taehyung, and Yoongi were already there when you arrived, holding hands with Jungkook.

“Where are Joon and Seokjin?” You ask as you hide your face from the wind on Jungkook's shoulder. He laughs as he tightens your scarf and kisses your head.

“They went to pick up Hoseok at the train station. Hoseok’s parents are busy prepping for Christmas Eve dinner, and his sister is bringing someone home,” Jimin explains as he hands his sled to Taehyung to take a turn.

“Sounds serious,” Yoongi comments with a sly grin.

“My parents keep asking when I’ll bring someone home,” Jimin sighs. “Are you free next Christmas?”

Jungkook scoffs. “As if.”

“Not you.” Jimin rolls his eyes before saying your name.

Yoongi laughs as Taehyung comes back.

“I don’t think passing me around as a fake girlfriend is what your parents mean, Min,” you shake your head as you take the sled from Taehyung.

Jimin shrugs. “Worth a shot.”

Jungkook glares at him before you tug him away to the top of the hill. He helps you onto the sled before he gets on behind you and pushes. You scream and close your eyes as you go down, laughing when you come to a stop moments later.

“Wanna go again?” Jungkook grins as he helps you up. You shake your head as you pat the snow off your clothing.

“I’m good,” you laugh. “Once was enough.”

The trek back up the hill is rough as you stomp in the snow to reach your friends. Jungkook hands the sled to Yoongi as he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder.

Despite admitting to liking each other, you haven’t talked to determine what that means. For one, you kind of like this limbo you’re in where you’re not not together but also not truly faking either.

At one point or another, you’ll have to have that conversation, but it’s Christmas Eve, and Jungkook looks too cute with his giant snowball.

Oh, no.

He’s heading toward you and Jimin. This is what happens when you get lost in thought. Jimin grabs your hand and pulls as Yoongi and Taehyung run in the opposite direction.

Jungkook cackles as he chases after you and Jimin. The snowball rises high in the air as he shouts, “Come get your Christmas gift, Park!”

Luna herds the family up the stairs later that night when she’s ready for bed.

Jungkook and you wear your matching pajamas. An evening of food, laughter, and photos has drained you as you go up the stairs after Minji and Luna.

Jungkook keeps his hand on your lower back, guiding your sleepy self up the stairs and down the hall.

“Goodnight, honey,” Minji kisses Jungkook’s cheek and then yours.

You smile as you climb into bed with Jungkook beside you. His mood lamp is on, and you’re grateful for the pink stars that light the ceiling. Even at your age, you’re still a little scared of the dark.

“What’s on your mind?” Jungkook asks as he rolls to his side to face you.

You face him, your fingers laced with his.

“I’m just really glad I came to your home for the holidays. It’s been amazing. You, your family, everything has been perfect.” you smile warmly as he brings your knuckles to his lips to kiss gently.

“I’m glad you came. I know this whole thing has been a little odd, but getting to know you and being here with you has been the best part of this Christmas.” Jungkook pecks you on the lips, unable to control the smile that lights up his face.

Your gaze holds his, the sparkle in his eyes making you fall for him a little more as they grow brighter with each passing second.

“Kiss me,” you whisper as you lean in closer, and he closes the distance between you with his lips. They’re soft and taste like strawberry chapstick when they brush against your lips. You break apart for a moment, his eyes revealing more than you want to speak of now.

Instead, you whisper, “Kiss me again.”

Slowly, Jungkook kisses you again. He cups your face while you tug on his shirt, quickly removing it from him.

His breathy laugh brushes your skin as he noses at your throat. “Eager?”

“Shut up,” you hiss, climbing on top of him as his hands grip your hips.

Jungkook groans at your words, licking his lips as you take your top off to discard on the bedroom floor. Your fingers make quick work of your bra and soon you’re left topless and horny on top of him.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses as he gets an eyeful of your breasts and nearly drools as his hands move upwards to cup them in his hands. You moan his name when his fingers brush the sensitive nipples, making them peak.

As much as he loves seeing you on top, Jungkook wants to take his time with you. This was a turn of events he wasn’t expecting, otherwise, he would have waited for your first time together to be at his place, in private where you could scream his name as loud as you wanted.

However, he won’t pass up the chance to have you. You’ve had such a hard time keeping your hands off each other even around your friends. Stealing kisses and sneaking off to make out in dim hallways and busy restaurant alleys. Light touches under tables, lustful looks shared across the room until you could sneak off together and kiss as if your lives depended on it.

If Jungkook could do this all over again, he would. Only he’d make you his from the get-go. But that’s a thought for another time as your hands glide up his torso, moaning at the sight of him.

“Jungkook,” his name tumbles so sweetly from your kiss-swollen lips.

His breath fans across your face as he chuckles. His dark locks create a curtain between you. Slowly, your fingers push his hair out of the way to find his sparkling eyes locked on yours. You melt beneath him as he kisses you.

Your hands grip his strong shoulders as your legs wrap around his hips to pull him close. Jungkook laughs at your eagerness, teeth nipping your bottom lip before releasing it.

Jungkook kisses his way down to your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin until his name fills the bedroom. You cover your mouth to muffle your moans, but he’s quick to remove it.

With lust-filled eyes, you watch as he takes your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing each fingertip until he’s kissing your palm and moving upwards.

Jungkook wants to take his time with you. Show you his appreciation from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes. He knows you’ll only let him do so much before you beg for more, more, more…

Like clockwork, your fingers thread through his hair directing his lips to yours as you kiss him with everything you’ve got. He moans against your lips, cursing when you tug on his bottom lip.

Your hands move downward across the massive expanse of his back, each muscle rippling beneath your touch as you arch into him. Your hips grind against him, the thin material of your shorts already soaking wet with your arousal.

Jungkook nearly growls when he feels it, cock throbbing in the next moment. He hikes your leg up higher on his waist, his hand grabbing your ass as his lips feverishly seek yours.

Gasps and moans fill the space between you in between hot, needy kisses that make your toes curl. Panting, you beg him for more as his hands tug your shorts off to toss on the bedroom floor; forgotten until morning.

You lay bare beneath him as he sat back on his haunches. His hands lace with yours, a soft bashful smile on his lips.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, his eyes never straying from yours as he leans in for a kiss.

Jungkook’s had enough teasing. His hands grip your thighs, cursing when he feels your wetness on your skin. He slowly rubs your clit, his dark hooded gaze on yours.

“Fuck, baby,” he curses as he moves his fingers downward and slowly slides them inside you. He watches you closely; loves the way your eyes flutter shut and your teeth sink into your bottom lip as he curls his fingers and rubs your clit with his thumb.

“Kook,” you moan when he goes faster, slipping a little deeper just to watch you tremble. “Fuck me.”

You’re tired of waiting. You’ve wanted this since before you shared your first kiss and now being naked in his bed is becoming too much. You’ve dreamed of this time and time again and it’s about to become a reality if Jungkook can stop teasing you and just split you open.

You’ll beg, plead, and cry if you have to just for a taste of him. Just for a moment of sweet bliss.

“Please,” you beg as your hands palm over his cock in his pajama pants. You’re quick to tug them downward and Jungkook laughs at your excitement. He gets off the bed to kick them off and your mouth waters at the sight of his thick cock as he wraps his hand around it and strokes it.

You bite your bottom lip, watching him intently until you’re getting on your knees and crawling to the edge of the bed.

Jungkook groans when your hand wraps around his length. Your tongue licking the head teasingly. His gaze burns into the top of your head as your lips wrap around him. You relax your jaw as you take him in further, drooling all over yourself as you remind yourself to breathe through your nose.

He feels heavy on your tongue as you open wider. His hands grip your hair hesitantly before you pull off him.

“Don’t be scared,” you giggle. “I won’t break.”

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans as you wrap your lips around him once again. He lets you find your pace, not pushing too deep before he’s guiding you. Your hand rolls his balls while the other strokes him.

“Just like that. Fuck,” Jungkook throws his head back, the mood lamp illuminates the room, accentuating the veins in his neck, and he curses again. You moan around him, slurping as you get messy, bobbing up and down, gagging on his fat cock while Jungkook loses his mind over your pretty lips.

He pulls on your hair, using it to fuck your mouth until your nose presses to his abdomen. You choke, pulling off him to catch your breath.

“You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” Jungkook tongues his lip ring as he takes you in. You’re breathing heavily trying to catch your breath. Your hair is mussed from him tugging on it, and your lips are smeared with spit and his pre-cum. You look beautiful.

Jungkook leans forward, kissing you. All teeth and tongue, unable to resist how gorgeous you look in that moment.

It’s not too long before you’re back on the bed with your legs spread wide open for him, begging for his cock once again.

“So needy,” Jungkook coos as he strokes himself, the fat head of his cock brushing your clit.

“Please,” you whimper, trying to raise your hips in hopes that he’ll just slide right in. “Fuck.”

Jungkook bites his lip. He’s never seen anyone so desperate for his dick. It makes him throb as he teases your entrance and a whine of his name escapes you, nails digging into his back.

“Don’t make me find someone else,” you huff.

Jungkook rolls his eyes as he kisses your jaw, trailing upward to your ear before taking the lobe between his teeth.

“They can’t fuck you as good as I will,” he laughs cockily.

You arch into him, lips meeting his in a needy kiss as he slides into you. The stretch is wonderful. Stars illuminate your vision as Jungkook’s lips muffle the moan that threatens to wake the whole house.

The two of you have managed to keep the noises down to a reasonable level but Jungkook knows his luck might run out if he gets too carried away. Shit, he should have waited until he had you to himself at his apartment or even your dorm.

“Gotta be quiet, baby. Or I’ll have to stop,” Jungkook whispers as he sinks in further. “You don’t want me to stop, do you?”

“No, please don’t stop. Koo,” you press your lips to his shoulder as he goes deeper, gripping your thighs with his large hands. He settles between your legs perfectly, cursing at the ceiling at how warm and wet you feel wrapped around him. It’s better than he could have ever imagined.

Jungkook grabs both of your legs, throwing them over his left shoulder as he pummels into you.

Tears flow down your cheeks. The pleasure is too overwhelming, lighting your body ablaze with each deep thrust that rewards you.

“So tight,” Jungkook grunts as his hair falls over his eyes. He pushes it back with his tattooed hand before moving it down to grope your breast, his fingers rolling your nipple just to listen to the sweet cries that escape you.

You tighten around him, soaking his cock as you cover your mouth with your hand.

Jungkook smiles, fucking you deeper, harder. Your cunt clings to him, thighs shaking as he holds your legs to his chest. His lips press a kiss to your calf before you dig your nails into the sheets beneath you, beyond ruined.

The creaking of the mattress is louder than Jungkook would like, but you look like you’re about to combust. His name leaves your lips in quick succession, nearly panting as tears roll down your cheeks, leaving behind stains as you bite your hand to keep from screaming his name as you tighten around him when you cum.

Jungkook fucks you slower, eyes focused on where your bodies connect. He waits for you to calm down, leaning forward to kiss your lips.

“Can you go for one more?” Jungkook asks in between kisses, your tongue meeting his as he cups your face.

“Yes,” you answer honestly, wanting more of him.

Jungkook kisses you one more time, moaning into the kiss as you clench around his cock. He nearly growls when you do it again, moving your hips against his.

“Let me get you on your hands and knees, darling,” Jungkook says as he pulls out of you and you whine at the loss.

Jungkook chuckles. “Easy, doll. You’ll have my ego growing bigger.”

You laugh, flipping him off. Jungkook laughs, leaning forward to gently nibble on your finger before you rip it out of his mouth.

Smirking, Jungkook helps you onto your knees as you plant your hands on the bed, arching your back.

Jungkook runs his tattooed hand over your back, gently slapping your ass just to watch it jiggle. He couldn’t lie, seeing you in jeans made his mouth water and there were a few times he had to excuse himself after staring at it for too long.

“Kook,” you say his name in a wanton tone that makes him melt.

Your eyes lock and he smiles as he grabs your ass in both hands, spreading you open for him. Your face grows hot as you turn around, unable to handle the dark lust-filled gaze he rewarded you with.

Jungkook doesn’t waste any more time as he lines himself up at your entrance, cursing when you welcome him easily.

His hands grip your hips tightly, almost enough to bruise. His name rolls off your tongue. You nearly drool when he reaches places others have only dreamed of.

You're so warm, so wet. It nearly drives him insane as he spears you on his cock. You’re soaking him, absolutely drenching him, and ruining him for anyone else. You’re the only one he wants, the only one he could ever want, and as he throws his head back in pleasure, he loses himself to thoughts he’d only shared with Yoongi.

“Fuck, baby,” Jungkook growls, gripping your ass as he continues to fuck you. He cards his hand through his hair, feeling sweat bead on his brow as you grow restless and fuck yourself on his dick.

“Just like that, baby. Use me. Use my cock. Fuck,” Jungkook groans as you fuck yourself on him, panting and moaning. He can see you biting down on his pillow, cunt pulsing around him as you scream into the pillow trying to keep quiet.

Jungkook watches you for another moment or two before he’s slamming into you. You cry out, face buried in his pillow as he grabs handfuls of your hips and ass, unable to decide what to use to anchor himself as he fills you again and again.

“Fuck, darling. You feel so good wrapped around me,” Jungkook grunts as his eyes flutter shut. His body tingles all over, and your moans are growing in octaves despite the pillow clenched between your teeth soaked with spit and tears.

The obscene smacking of your coupling is almost too loud but Jungkook can’t be damned to give a single fuck as you clench around him, nearly milking his cock. He moans your name and curses as you tighten around him, moaning incoherently as you orgasm once again. Your poor legs shake as you ride it out, sobbing unintelligibly into the bed as praises you.

“Want to fuck you full of my cum, baby,” Jungkook can’t help himself as he thrusts in deeper. He’s so close. His lip is caught between his teeth as you fuck yourself weakly on his cock, your body still tingling.

“Please, do it,” you spur him on as you clench around him, tempting him.

“Baby!”

“Jungkook!”

“Gonna fill you up until you’re dripping. Gonna fuck it all back into you, baby. Make you think of me all day.” Jungkook curses as you meet each of his thrusts, his fingers finding your sensitive clit as you muffle a wail of his name in your hand.

“Come on, love. Just one more for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook encourages as he nears the edge. He curses, losing himself as he fills you, and you tighten around him, soaking him and the sheets. A whimper escapes you as you fall forward on the bed, utterly spent.

Jungkook exhales deeply as he fills you to the brim before pulling out. He’s tempted to spread your legs and set them on his broad shoulders, lick you clean, and put you to bed.

But you’re spent, eyes barely open as you reach for him.

Jungkook kisses you gently. “Gotta clean you up, babe.”

You groan, legs already feeling sore. Jungkook helps you out of bed. He puts a shirt on you and opens his bedroom door as quietly as possible. He peeks into the hallway, making sure the coast is clear before he leads you to the bathroom.

Jungkook made sure you were steady enough to not fall before he ran to the room to change the sheets and pillowcases. By the time you’re back, he’s in a pair of boxers.

“Get in bed, babe,” he instructs as he helps you in and tucks you in. “I’ll be right back.”

You watch him go, waiting for him and smiling when he comes back a few minutes later with some water. He lets you drink a bit before he gets into bed beside you.

You curl into him, still unsure of what all this means, but you don’t care much when he wraps you up in his arms and holds you close.

“Sleep well, darling.”

Christmas morning passes in a whirlwind of breakfast and movies. Lots of stories from Jungkook’s childhood; few you heard from the man himself and more from his parents. Jungkook grows embarrassed soon, but nothing beats the flush on his cheeks when his mother pulls out the photo albums. Lunch came and passed with more stories and photos as Jungkook hid his face on your shoulder.

It’s not until after dinner that you’re all gathered in the living room with Minji and the Jeons.

“Come here, dear,” Minji pats the spot beside her as she holds a large pink photo album in her lap. One she brought for your arrival.

Jungkook sits on the arm of the couch next to you, curious eyes on the album as Minji opens it and takes out two envelopes.

One she hands to Jungkook and the other to you.

You’re confused. The family had exchanged gifts just after dinner with good wishes and warm coffee and cookies. Wrapping paper and gift bags still littered the living room floor.

“The two of you are so good together,” Minji comments as Jungkook kisses the top of your head. “I had this same talk with Saraí and Seojun when he first brought her home. Same with your father and your mother, and now you.”

Minji places a hand on yours. “I first met Jungkook’s grandfather at the Christmas parade in town. Oh, we couldn’t stand each other one bit!”

Jungkook chuckles as he listens to his grandmother.

“We were assigned the same parade float, and I swear that man was as stubborn as a mule! He wanted goats instead of reindeer, fireworks instead of candles, and he wanted me to be Santa! He said he’d be an elf! He was over six feet tall! An elf!” Minji shakes her head as she points to a photo of her as an elf and who you assume to be Jungkook’s grandfather as Santa.

“I arm wrestled him for it!” Minji exclaims proudly. “In front of his friends, and I won fair and square! I grew up with three brothers.”

You laugh as she turns the page, and Minji sits with her brothers. They all smile in the photo and make silly faces.

“I thought he’d be embarrassed that I beat him. But I got my way. I stood my ground and he claimed that’s when he knew I was the one for him,” Minji continues as she flips the page and runs her fingers over her wedding photo.

Tears pool in your eyes as you look at Jungkook. He looks like he’s about to cry, and guilt fills your chest.

“That man gave me a wonderful life. Beautiful children and cute grandkids. I miss him every day. Stubborn man he was, but there was nothing we couldn’t get through together.” Minji wipes a stray tear before smiling fondly.

“Anyway,” she sniffles as she sets the album on the coffee table.

“I wanted to give you two something special to get you started. I know you haven’t been together for too long, but Jungkook looks at you the way his grandfather looked at me and you the way I looked at him. I know it deep in my soul that you two belong together.” Minji smiles warmly as she takes your hand and Jungkook’s. “Be good to each other.”

You wipe a few tears and look at Jungkook. He opens the envelope, and it holds a photo of a home (not an apartment) with the address written on the back and a small gold key.

You can’t do this.

Not anymore.

The Jeons have welcomed you with open arms and all you’ve done is lie to them. Guilt washes over you in waves as you force yourself not to cry. This is wrong.

You hand the envelope back to Minji before rising to your feet. Your heart pounds in your chest, nearly deafening you as you try (and fail) to steel yourself.

“We lied,” you state, wringing your hands in front of you.

Jungkook frowns as he hands his envelope back to Minji. Guilt bubbles deep in his belly, and he knows this has gone too far. He should have never gone on with this scheme. Conning his grandmother? He felt terrible. He should have told the truth from the beginning.

“We aren’t a couple,” Jungkook admits, feeling the confused stares of his family. “We lied to you all.”

Aera and Dae stare at their youngest son and then at you.

Minji shakes her head.

“I lied,” Jungkook continues as he takes your hand. “She had nothing to do with it. I begged her to help me. I’m so sorry, Grandmother Jeon.”

Seojun stares with furrowed brows as Saraí places her hand on his shoulder. He couldn’t fathom why his little brother would lie.

“I thought Grandmother Jeon would give me an apartment or something if she thought I was seeing someone seriously like Seojun.” Jungkook hangs his head in shame. “The lie kept growing and growing until I was too embarrassed to tell the truth. I never meant to hurt anyone. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not all his fault, Grandmother Jeon,” you said as you squeezed his hand. “I agreed to help. You’ve all been so welcoming, and I didn’t have a place to go for the holidays, and I agreed. We never intended to harm anyone. We’re both so sorry.”

Minji laughs from her seat, surprising Aera and Dae.

“I know all about your little scheme,” Minji laughs, shaking her head as if this were the most comical thing she has witnessed. “Jimin’s grandmother hits the slot machines with me, and that boy sure loves to open his mouth. I’ve known since I arrived, honey.”

“Jungkook! Why would you lie? You know you could have told us anything!” Aera crosses her arms as she scolds her son.

“I just felt pressured,” Jungkook admits, and his mother sinks. “I hadn’t dated in a while, and I know you’d like to see me married like Seojun, but it just seemed like this is what everyone wanted from me.”

“Son,” Dae approaches him, hugging him. “We know we can be a little pushy, and I promise you will no longer feel pressured to settle down. We just got excited over Seojun. We wanted you to have the same happiness and partnership he and Saraí do.”

“Your father’s right,” Aera nods as she hugs Jungkook. “Oh, my baby! I’m so sorry for pressuring you! I just worry about you being alone so far away.”

“I’m fine, mom. I’ve got friends, and now I have her.” Jungkook reaches for you once his parents release him from their hugs.

Aera hugs you. “I’m so sorry for all this. We enjoy having you here. You’ve made our son and family so happy with your presence. It’s been a joy getting to know you and seeing how happy you’ve made our Kookie.”

You smile, hugging her tight before Minji hands Jungkook the envelope again.

“That’s yours to do as you please,” she states as she hands you your envelope.

You open it and gasp when you see two tickets to a resort you’ve wanted to go to. They’re dated for Spring Break.

“I’ve got a place down there that you’re welcome to visit during your vacation, but Jimin’s grandmother and I will be busy partying.”

“Mother!” Dae exclaims in shock.

“What? I’m old enough to drink! I’ve been old enough to drink.” she shakes her head with a laugh.

“I can’t accept this.” you try to return it, but Minji won’t take it.

“No takebacks!” She grins as she rises from the couch, and Luna follows her, yapping at her ankles.

“Should we go see the Christmas lights?” Seojun suggests as he rises to his feet and helps Saraí.

The family heads out to join the rest of the neighborhood on a walk. Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi, Namjoon, Hoseok, and Seokjin join you as you let your families go on ahead without you.

“How’d it go?” Hoseok asks as he shivers, his ears peeking from his beanie.

“Yeah,” Seokjin grins. “Did you get the apartment?”

“Did the plan work?” Taehyung questions.

“Yes,” you say with a wry smile.

“And no.” Jungkook shakes his head.

“Huh?” Yoongi furrows his brows.

“Jimin needs to learn that gossiping with your grandmother can bite you in the butt!” Jungkook hisses as he laces his fingers with yours.

Jimin pales, turning his head and whistling to appear nonchalant.

“Yeah, Min!” You agree with a laugh as Jungkook kisses your cheek.

“I thought she’d forget!” Jimin defends as he gets playfully shoved by his friends. The snow crunches beneath your feet as you continue to walk, the glow of the Christmas lights reflecting on the snow.

“Oh no,” you giggle. “Jimin’s grandmother told Grandmother Jeon.”

“And she knew the moment she stepped into the house,” Jungkook sighed with a shake of his head.

“Whoops!” Jimin laughs.

“So much for ‘Con Jungkook’s Grandma, huh?” Namjoon sighed as a chill ran through him. His scarf fluttered in the light wind as snowflakes fell from the sky.

“Shut up!” Jungkook laughs as he stops to form a snowball.

Seokjin laughs, pulling Yoongi with him as they run away from Jungkook.

Hoseok and Jimin slam into each other in their haste to escape the ricocheting snowball that smacks Namjoon in the chest.

Namjoon curses, forming a snowball as Taehyung runs away, following Yoongi and Seokjin, begging them to protect him.

You laugh as you take off, running with Jungkook as Namjoon hurls a snowball in your direction.

Laughter fills the streets of the neighborhood as more people join the snowball fight while you jog away with Jungkook, holding hands as you hide behind a tree for cover.

You’re pressed to his chest, peeking to see if you’ve been discovered yet, but being so far away from everyone just means silence surrounds you.

The evening is quiet as snow continues to fall, and Jungkook wraps his scarf around you to keep you warm. You’re wearing matching coats, hands warm in your gloves as he pulls you closer.

Everything fades into nothingness as his gaze meets yours. His hand is gentle when he cups your face. His gaze flits to your lips and back to your eyes.

“You know this is the best Christmas I’ve ever had,” Jungkook whispers.

“Me too,” you whisper as you hold his gaze.

“There’s only one thing that would make it better,” Jungkook smiles softly.

“And what’s that?” You ask as you bite your bottom lip.

“If you were mine,” Jungkook said with a dimpled smile. “For real this time.”

“I think I can make that happen,” you tease with a coquette smile. “But only with a kiss.”

Chuckling, Jungkook cups your face. “As you wish, baby.”

Jungkook captures your lips with his own, moaning when your fingers thread in his hair. He kisses you deeply as snowflakes coat your hair and his.

There’s nothing better than kissing Jungkook, your boyfriend. The word makes your heart skip a beat as he deepens the kiss, soft moans escaping the both of you as your lips move in sync.

Jungkook can’t help but be elated. His heart flutters as he realizes this is your first Christmas together. The first of many. He can see his future in your eyes—a home, a marriage, and children running down these streets covered in snow and Christmas lights.

There’s nothing more he could ever want.

When he catches your gaze, a bashful smile appears on your lips as you ask, “What?”

Jungkook shakes his head slightly, “Nothing. Just thinking about next Christmas.”

“Oh, will I be back?” You ask cheekily as he pulls you closer, the laughter of your friends ringing in the background as they grow closer.

“Definitely.” Jungkook seals his promise with a kiss just as your friends arrive, hooting as they circle you.

“Come on, lovebirds,” Namjoon huffs. “Momma Jeon’s got hot chocolate and cookies waiting for us.”

You laugh as Jungkook takes your hand, smiling as his friends race down the sidewalk to be the first on Momma Jeon’s porch. You smile, imagining all your Christmases like this, with your friends and Jungkook at your side.

Before you reach his home, Jungkook stops you just beneath the door frame before pointing up. Mistletoe hangs above your head, and you share a smile. Jungkook gently places his hand on your cheek, his thumb caressing it as he whispers, “Merry Christmas.” before he kisses you.

<< part one

#bangtanarmynet #btsgoldnet #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader insert #bf!jungkook #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook fake dating au #bts christmas #fic: hfth #fic: home for the holidays

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honeytae · 7 months ago

Text

“you refuse to meet his gaze, afraid that your carefully constructed facade will crumble if you do. and it seems like that's exactly what is happening - the walls you've built around yourself are slowly falling apart.”

genre: angst, fluff, comfort

warnings: reader is overworked af and petrified of showing vulnerability, brief argument between reader and jk but only bc he cares, so many tears..like a LOT of crying, descriptions of kissing, make out sesh💋, an unforgivable amount of fluff and L bombs, i really didn’t know what to call this one so it’s just riptide, sorry not sorry you guys

wc: 2k

the air in the apartment is mostly silent, save for the gentle scratch of lead on paper and the muted pattering of rain against the windows in your home office.

jungkook’s teeth play with his bottom lip as he fidgets in his seat, intently observing you from the opposite end of the table.

across from him, your brows knit together in an attempt to focus, lips pursed in concentration as you stop for a moment, then resume moving your pencil across the page.

he cringes at the disruption of his phone vibrating on the table, abruptly snapping you out of your daze.

as your pencil slips out of your grasp, you sit up straight and flex your fingers around in the air to release some of the tension residing in your joints.

jungkook murmurs an apology but you brush it off, glancing wearily at him and providing a small smile. a sigh of relief escapes you as he leans in, taking your hand in his and gently massaging your tired fingers with a few strokes of his own.

“that feels good,” you mumble, shifting closer to the table for more of his touch.

he hums softly, taking another few moments to work his fingers into your skin, creating a small pocket of silence.

"are you bored?" you ask, feeling a twinge of guilt for leaving him essentially alone at the table. "i'm sorry, baby, i'll be finished in just a few more minutes."

jungkook shrugs in response, casual as he moves his arm to gently rub up and down your own. his touch is comforting and helps ease your anxiety, preventing you from spiraling further.

“it's okay,” he reassures you with a gentle smile, “just take your time. i'll be here.”

his eyes shift from your face to your hand, a frown forming as he notices the red mark on your finger, evidence of how tightly you've been holding your pencil.

you watch, endeared, as he leans down to kiss the spot, then replaces his lips with his finger, gently rubbing over the indentation to soothe the redness.

"you work so hard," he says, tutting his tongue as he continues running his thumb over the spot.

you can only manage a sigh in response, feeling drained and unable to speak. plus, tears are starting to form in your eyes, and you’re desperately trying to hold them back. jungkook notices, of course he does.his expression turns into one of concern as he studies your face, trying to assess the situation.

your mouth is set in a deep frown, almost a scowl, and your eyebrows are furrowed in discomfort from holding back your true emotions. you refuse to meet his gaze, afraid that your carefully constructed facade will crumble if you do. and it seems like that's exactly what is happening - the walls you've built around yourself are slowly falling apart.

in a rush, he rises from his chair and rounds the table, your eyes following him through tears.

once next to you, his fingers weave through your hair, leading your head to rest on his stomach. he wraps his arm around you and massages the tension from your shoulders as you nestle into the soft fabric of his t-shirt, taking in the familiar scent of his laundry detergent.

“time for a break?” he muses, watching as you adamantly shake your head in response.

“i just need to finish,” you reply, trying to stifle the lump in your throat.

he watches as you draw your laptop closer while blinking rapidly to chase away any tears.

you’ve always been one to persevere, which he greatly respects. but it also irritates him that at times, you don’t allow yourself to fully feel.

jungkook suppresses a groan as he watches you type something else into your search engine, briefly tilting his head up to the ceiling in frustration and closing his eyes to take a deep breath.

it can be hard, to watch those you love push themselves beyond their limit. he understands, knowing that he often puts you through the same thing.

you and him share an achilles heel of refusing to give up easily, which is both a blessing and a curse.

the sound of your fingers tapping on the keyboard snaps him out of his trance and he reopens his eyes, sneaking another glance over your shoulder.

he’s about to drop it altogether when he sees your bottom lip quiver, his breath hitching in his throat when the first tear makes it over your lash line.

“baby,” he utters softly, nearly tripping over the leg of the chair he pulls out from the table to sit beside you.

you can’t help but let out a throaty chuckle at his clumsiness, swiping the single tear from your cheek and trying to wave him off.

“i’m okay,” you sniffle, but jungkook just shakes his head in disbelief. he leans forward, balancing on his knees as he takes your fidgeting hands in his own, running his fingers gently along your knuckles.

“seriously, jungkook, i’m fine. stop making it bigger than it is,” you attempt to push him away, but he refuses to budge.

“stop making it smaller than it is!” he counters, voice raising slightly as his anger takes over.

he takes a breath, continuing in a softer voice.“baby, i’m not gonna stop until you let me in.”

his brows furrow in frustration, wide eyes pleading with you.

in the heat of the moment, you hate how intrusive he’s being. you hate that he sees you as his responsibility and that your struggles are ruining his day.

“jungkook, if i’m just a burden-“

“a burden?” he interrupts in disbelief, “you could never be a burden,” he reaches for your hand when you try to get up. “hey, all i ever want to do is help you, because i love you,” he stresses.

his words instantly calm your mounting emotions, preventing you from any more self sabotage.

“i love you,” he says again, “and i cannot sit here and watch you ruin yourself.”

you simply blink at him, the last of your resolve shattering when he starts to soothingly caress your arm with his warm palm.

even when you’re so difficult, he’s so unbelievably kind to you.

“please let yourself not be okay,” he begs, eyebrows pulling together, pained, as he watches you stifle a sob. “it’s so hard to watch you be so strong all the time,” he says, “please don’t shut me out.”

and just like that, your wall comes tumbling down.

jungkook’s emotions bubbling to the surface seem to be the final push for you to tip over the edge. tears now stream down your face, features crumbling as you weakly lift yourself from your chair.

jungkook’s arms reach out to pull you into him, intercepting your body as you launch yourself onto his lap. his lips press repeatedly to the side of your head as he wraps his arms around your stuttering back, squeezing you to him.

“let go, baby,” he says, feeling tears well up in his own eyes as you collapse in his arms, “just let go.”

broken sobs wrack your frame as you cling onto him, one of his hands securely holding the back of your head while the other runs up and down your spine.

the dam has finally broken, and its cathartic for both of you.

soothing words are spoken softly into your ear as your breaths begin to even out, your face finding solace in the crook of his neck.

after a few minutes, your cries quiet and the pool of tears starts to dry on his skin.

jungkook leans back to glance over your face, reaching up to swipe at the leftover tear trails on your cheeks with his thumb.

“feel a little lighter in here?” he inquires, dancing his fingers over your scalp as you lift your reddened eyes to lock with his.

“a little,” you sniff, leaning into his touch as he starts massaging the crown of your head.

“hm, good,” he murmurs, “we’re making progress then.”

wordlessly, you stare into his big brown irises, the whites of his eyes showing evidence of his own tears. despite this, his mouth quirks in a small smile, and the guilt from ten minutes ago consumes you.

“fuck, i’m so sorry,” your frown deepens, closing your eyes when his lips press to your temple, remaining against your heated skin. “i’m so sorry for lashing out at you, i’m just,” you sigh, “i’m just overwhelmed and,” you glance up in thought, “in my own head.”

“i understand, baby,” he soothes, warm eyes finding yours to show he’s being genuine. “it’s all gonna work out, i promise.”

you inhale and sit up straighter, cupping his cheeks as you position your face in front of his. you stare at each other for a moment before he cups your jaw, adoringly squishing your cheeks with his fingers.

jungkook laughs as you pucker your lips, sliding his hands down to rest under your jaw when you tilt your head to the side, pressing your mouth to his.

with each pass of his lips over yours, you feel the ache in your head lessen. your heart reaches out for him and squeezes him closer to you.

he hums as you pull back and immediately go in for more, taking turns capturing your bottom and top lip between his. you grip on tighter to him to momentarily stop the world from spinning around you.

breaking apart for air, jungkook giggles as you unattractively sniff with your full nose, your fingers absentmindedly playing with his hair.

“sexy, huh?” you raise a brow, and jungkook’s features warm when the sparkle returns to your eye.

“duh,” he rolls his eyes, and there’s a beat of comfortable silence as you both recover from your breakdown.

“i love you so much,” you murmur, “thank you for everything you do.”

“yah, kiss-ass,” he teases, his high-pitched laugh escaping his mouth when you pinch his side as punishment for his snark.

“ugh, nevermind,” you sigh as you stand up, and he smiles at you in return, holding onto your hand to help you back over into your chair.

“i love you more,” he sings, chortling as you squint your eyes at him in response.

you redirect your gaze back to your notebook, still looking tired but not as weary as you did before.

jungkook lifts himself to reassume his position from earlier and stands behind you, dropping his arms around your neck. you tilt your neck as he plants a kiss onto the top of your head.

sensing your reluctance to go back to work, he leans down further, his cheek pressing against yours. the gesture seems to melt you back into your chair as the both of you stare ahead at your laptop screen.

“okay,” he starts, understanding your process, “how about some tea to get you through this last part?”

he waits patiently as you think it over. his eyes travel from the screen to your features, staring at your lashes touching your cheek each time you blink.

there’s a hint of water clinging to your bottom lashes, and the sight makes his heart squeeze in his chest.

“yeah, actually,” you answer softly, gently craning your neck so that you can press your lips to his, kissing him one, two, three, four times.

“you’re the best boyfriend ever,” you whisper against his lips, some of the tension in your body already subsiding.

his cheeks go pink with your praise, dark eyes catching the dining room light as he puffs air out of his nostrils.

wordlessly, you let your head hang off the back of the chair, closing your eyes when jungkook’s hand comes to support the back of your head, dipping down to kiss you again.

his fingers rub soothing circles into your neck, causing an involuntary noise to rise up from your throat.

you break apart with a “tch,” noise, pouting when he pulls his arms from around you.

“nooo,” you try to grip onto his fingers, jungkook chuckling as he pokes your bottom lip back into place.

meeting your lips one last time, it takes everything in him to step away from you, pointing at your dimmed laptop screen.

“i’ll be right back,” he soothes, “and i promise i’ll sit here with you the whole time.”

you smile despite yourself, because jungkook is simply the light of your life.

“you better. you’re my emotional support human.”

#bts fanfiction #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts angst #bts comfort #bts reader insert #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook comfort

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chimcess · 7 months ago

Text

Unparalleled || jjk

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Other tags: Idol!Jungkook, Photographer!Reader Word Count: 6.6k+ Genre: One-shot, established relationship, PWP, long distance relationship AU, smut Synopsis: You had only met him once, a fleeting moment in the grand scheme of things, and the fact that he was on the other side of the hotel door felt surreal. Or, after being in a long-distance relationship for over a year, you and Jungkook are finally meeting up. Warnings: This is literally just porn, there’s a plot but it’s just filth, soft-dom JK, he calls reader “baby,” oral (m&f), d*ck piercing, tatted jk, jk wears glasses (the entire time), dirty talk, desperate sex, couch sex, they barely made it inside tbh, protected sex (wrap it up babes), multiple positions, light begging, light body worship, light praise, some teasing, reader cums on his face, multiple orgasms, nipple play, nipple sucking, some nipple biting, hair pulling, aftercare cuddling, sweet ending, let me know if I missed anything... A/N: I’m still getting used to writing smut, so I’m sorry if this is a bit awkward in some spots. Found this in my drafts, so I fixed it up a little bit and decided to post it. Thanks for reading.

Staring down at my fidgeting hands, I felt like the taxi was closing in on me, every tick of the clock amplifying the sense of claustrophobia. Twenty minutes felt like an eternity, dragging by as if time itself were taunting me. I stole another glance at my phone, re-reading Jungkook's last message like it was some sort of magic spell.

Kookie: 324

It was surreal to think he was right here in California, just a short drive away, no oceans or time zones separating us. My leg bounced nervously beneath the table, the excitement swirling in my stomach like butterflies in a frenzy. Each moment felt charged with anticipation, a thrilling energy that made my heart race. I quickly typed out a response, adding a heart emoji before sending my location. Jungkook always said sharing my location made him feel closer to me, bridging the gap between our worlds, even with his whirlwind schedule that rarely left room for anything else. Being one of the biggest pop stars had a way of pulling a guy in a million directions.

I couldn’t help but smile as I recalled our first meeting. It was right after the lockdown ended, during his band’s visit to California for a concert and the Grammys. I still vividly remembered standing by the snack table, nervously clutching a half-empty cup of soda, when our eyes met for the first time. There was an electric spark in that moment, something I hadn’t realized I’d been missing. His grin was infectious, his playful nature shining through, and my heart had skipped a beat at the sound of his laughter. It echoed in my mind like a melody I wanted to play on repeat.

A few months later, we had entered a long-distance relationship, navigating the challenges of his demanding career while trying to keep our connection alive. Late-night video calls, flirty texts, and the occasional surprise visit were our lifelines, but nothing could compare to the rush of being together in the same room. And now, the thought of finally seeing him in person again sent a rush of warmth through me, a blend of hope and nervous energy that was hard to contain.

As I waited, I replayed our conversations in my mind—each one a thread weaving our lives together despite the distance. We shared dreams, fears, and whispered secrets, laying the groundwork for something beautiful and profound. The thought of being in his presence again, of feeling his warmth and the comfort of his touch, made my heart race with excitement.

I glanced at the clock again, biting my lip in anticipation. Each minute stretched into hours, the seconds crawling by. Would he still feel the same? Would our chemistry translate into real life as effortlessly as it did through screens and messages? Doubts flitted through my mind, but I shook them off, focusing on the joy of the moment. Jungkook was just a heartbeat away, and soon, I would be in his arms. The very idea sent a shiver down my spine.

My phone buzzed, startling me out of my thoughts. I scrambled to open the notification, my heart racing. If Jungkook messaged, I had to respond quickly. Our conversations were a race against time, a way to squeeze moments of connection into his packed schedule. Phone calls were our only reliable lifeline, but the language barrier complicated things. We were both trying, though Jungkook's English was much better than my Korean.

Kookie: 나는 신나요

Giggling, I typed back a response.

Y/N: 나도

Kookie: Good job, 자기~

Nothing made Jungkook happier than seeing me try to improve my Korean. He always insisted it was adorable, his smile brightening every time I stumbled through a phrase. Yoongi was usually the more honest one, quick to point out my mispronunciations, but Jungkook wore that supportive boyfriend badge with pride, even if it meant telling me little white lies.

As the taxi pulled up to the hotel, my heart raced with a mix of excitement and anxiety. I thanked the driver, tipping generously as I stepped out into the warm night air. The moment I did, the fragrant scent of blooming jasmine wafted around me, mingling with the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore. I had only packed a small bag for our two-night stay, not knowing how much time we’d actually have together. Remembering that, I hurried up the steps, my footsteps echoing against the marble tiles.

The Sunset Hotel was unlike anything I’d imagined. I had envisioned a quiet, almost sleepy place, but instead, it was alive with activity. I couldn’t believe it was two in the morning; the lobby was bustling, a vibrant mix of laughter, clinking glasses, and the faint notes of live music drifting from the bar area. The energy crackled in the air like electricity, and I felt an exhilarating rush. Yet, amidst the lively atmosphere, a wave of inadequacy washed over me. Just a few moments ago, in the taxi, I had almost forgotten about Jungkook’s status as one of the biggest pop stars in the world, but now, beneath the sparkling chandelier that cast shimmering patterns across the polished floor, it was impossible to ignore.

As I walked through the brightly lit lobby, I caught glimpses of elegantly dressed guests, their conversations animated, their laughter ringing out like musical notes. I felt like a fish out of water, dressed in a casual sundress while they flaunted designer attire. Who would have thought my years in the service industry—working late nights and juggling demanding customers—would lead me here, about to meet someone who could afford such luxury? The thought both thrilled and terrified me.

At the front desk, the staff shot me quick, assessing looks. Their eyes were sharp, as if measuring my worth in this lavish setting. One of the hosts greeted me with a forced smile that felt far too wide for comfort. “Welcome to the Sunset Hotel! How can I assist you tonight?” Their voice dripped with that practiced hospitality, but I could sense a subtle skepticism beneath the surface.

“Um, I’m here to check in,” I replied, my voice steady despite the fluttering in my chest. I fished my phone out of my bag, ready to show them the reservation I’d made, but the host raised an eyebrow, glancing down at the computer screen as if evaluating my very presence.

“Name?” they asked, still wearing that unnaturally bright smile.

“Y/N,” I replied, and I held my breath as they typed it in. A brief moment of silence stretched between us, the bustling lobby fading into a distant murmur as I waited for their response.

“Ah, yes! We have you right here,” they said finally, their tone shifting to one of mild surprise. “You’re the other half of 324, correct?” They looked at me again, and I could feel the weight of their judgment, as if I were a puzzle they were trying to fit into a larger picture.

“Right,” I said, attempting to keep my tone light. “Should just be for the weekend.”

The host’s smile remained, but the glint in their eye suggested they were piecing together the details, perhaps even recognizing my connection to Jungkook. As they handed me the key card, I felt a rush of anxiety. What if they didn’t think I belonged here? What if Jungkook didn’t feel the same way about me once we were together?

I took the key, my fingers brushing against the cool surface, and turned to head toward the elevator. I was acutely aware of the looks I was receiving, a mix of curiosity and skepticism from both staff and guests alike. The air was thick with expectations, and I could almost hear the whispers in my mind, doubting whether I was truly worthy of this moment. But I pushed those thoughts aside. This was about Jungkook and me, our connection. And soon, I would be in his presence, feeling the warmth of his smile and the excitement of our reunion.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the elevator, the doors closing behind me like a protective barrier from the outside world. As the car ascended, I clutched my bag, heart racing with every passing floor. This was it. In just a few moments, I would be face-to-face with the boy who had ignited something within me, and no amount of uncertainty could overshadow that truth.

I shifted from foot to foot in the cramped elevator, the anticipation eating away at me like a swarm of butterflies taking flight in my stomach. Each second felt like an eternity, stretching my nerves thinner and thinner. I took out my phone, biting back a smile as I contemplated the moment. It was so surreal that I was just a few moments away from seeing Jungkook again after what felt like an eternity apart.

In a burst of excitement, I snapped a quick picture of the elevator doors opening, the sleek metallic finish reflecting the soft glow of the lobby lights. I sent it to Jungkook with a playful caption: *“Almost there!”* Watching the little blue ticks appear, I felt a rush of warmth, knowing he’d see it almost instantly.

Once inside the elevator, I pressed the button for the third floor with a mix of hope and trepidation. It only made sense that the 300s would be located on the third floor, right? Still, the absence of any signs directing me left me feeling a bit disoriented. The elevator hummed softly, its gentle movement barely easing the whirlwind of thoughts racing through my mind.

The walls felt a bit too close, almost as if they were closing in on me, but I took a deep breath, willing myself to relax. I replayed the memories of our conversations, the laughter we shared, and the longing I felt every time we parted. The excitement pulsing through me was intoxicating, a vivid contrast to the anxious tension coiling in my chest.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my hand, jolting me out of my reverie. I glanced down, my heart skipping a beat as I saw Jungkook's name flashing on the screen.

Kookie: I’m going to kiss you so much.

I couldn’t help but smile. I hoped kissing would be just the beginning of what would happen tonight. After a year of building up tension, I didn’t want to wait anymore. I wanted him.

Y/N: 또?

Kookie: I can’t think of it in English.

Rolling my eyes, I groaned. That was his way of avoiding a question. I knew he understood, but it amused me more than anything. Slowly, my nerves eased, and I felt more confident about seeing him, even if we were hiding away in a hotel I could never afford, lying on expensive sheets while the world outside spun with sharp eyes and curious gazes.

As the elevator dinged softly, signaling my arrival at the third floor, I felt a surge of adrenaline. The doors slid open smoothly, revealing a dimly lit hallway lined with plush carpeting and framed art pieces that whispered of elegance. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out, the plush carpet muffling my footsteps as I moved forward. The anticipation hung in the air like a charged atmosphere before a storm, and I could almost feel Jungkook’s presence drawing me closer.

I glanced at the room numbers, scanning for his. As I walked, I imagined what it would be like to finally be face-to-face with him. Would he look the same? Would that boyish grin still light up his face when he saw me? The thought sent my heart racing as I turned a corner, catching sight of the numbers I had been searching for.

Room 324. My breath caught in my throat, and for a fleeting moment, I hesitated, overwhelmed by a wave of nerves. What if things were different now? What if he had changed? But I quickly shook off the doubts; this was Jungkook, the boy I had laughed and shared secrets with, the one who had kept my heart fluttering even from a distance.

With a firm resolve, I approached the door, my heart pounding in rhythm with my steps. I held my breath, the moment stretching out like a taut string ready to snap. Would he answer? Would he be excited to see me? I could hardly contain the anticipation, my heart racing as I waited for that door to swing open. The air crackled with anticipation, buzzing with the weight of what was about to happen.

I raised my hand to knock, but before my knuckles could even touch the wood, the door swung open. And there he was—Jungkook.

He was everything I remembered: pitch-black hair tousled in a way that was both effortless and enticing, metal glinting in the light, thin, silver rimmed glasses, and a thin white t-shirt clinging to his muscular frame. It felt surreal, like stepping into a vivid dream, but this was no illusion. This was real, and it took my breath away.

"You," I whispered, the word slipping out like a gasp.

His dark eyes widened in surprise, delight flickering across his features. My heart raced as I watched him take me in, his expression shifting from uncertainty to something deeper, more intimate. Had he been waiting for this moment as much as I had? Was he just as happy as I felt?

All my doubts faded when that eyebrow, heavy with steel, raised in appreciation instead of scorn. He stepped into the hallway, and my heart pounded wildly, the space between us charged with an unspoken promise.

"You," he echoed, his voice low and husky as he took my hand in his, guiding me back into his room.

He kicked the door shut behind him. The air thickened as he moved closer, inches separating us, electric and intoxicating. I inhaled the scent of him—soap and laundry detergent—sending shivers down my spine. A soft whimper escaped my lips, desire pooling in my stomach like a spark waiting to ignite.

With an air of confidence, he advanced, and I leaned back, the weight of his presence drawing me in like gravity. I stopped when my back hit the couch, the world outside fading away as we paused, our breaths mingling in the charged silence. My fingers, betraying me, reached up to trace the row of piercings in his eyebrow, trailing down the line of his jaw to his lips. They were soft and rosy, a striking contrast to the rough stubble that scratched my palm.

In that moment, he darted his tongue out, the pointed tip brushing against my fingers, and I moaned softly, the sound echoing in the intimate space between us, igniting the fire that had been simmering beneath the surface.

And then he was on me.

He seized my hand, guiding it into the tousled mess of hair I had longed to touch. It was softer than I had imagined, and I lost myself in it. His mouth descended on mine, a fiery torrent of passion and urgency. My body responded instinctively, arching into him as our breaths mingled, his desire palpable against my stomach, the taste of longing lingering on his lips.

His palm traced a path down my arm, firm and possessive, sliding over my shoulder and back again. He tugged at the buttons of my cardigan, peeling the fabric away to reveal the inked skin beneath. I shivered at the roughness of his touch, a thrilling contrast to the softness of his kiss.

Breaking away, I pressed my mouth against the line of his jaw, trailing wet kisses toward the piercings in his ear, letting my tongue tease them as my breath washed hot against his skin.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you?” He whispered against my lips.

I panted, my fingers tangling tightly in his hair.

His hands tightened around my arms, pulling us together, the weight of our bodies colliding in a desperate embrace. “Every single day,” he swore, his voice rough yet melodic. He began a slow, deliberate exploration of my neck, the heat of his tongue tracing my pulse and making me shudder. “Every night that you called me, whispering sweet nothings in that voice. It drove me insane. I just wanted to hop on a plane and have you in my lap.”

“God, I wish you would have,” I gasped, feeling the bite of his teeth just below my collarbone, a thrilling blend of pain and pleasure that made me clench around nothing. “Why didn’t you?”

“You make me nervous,” he murmured, teasing aside the cup of my bra.

He took my nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking against the bud with reverence. I whined in pleasure, arching into him. Emboldened, he bit down.

“Self-conscious, huh?” I teased, winded and shaking from pleasure, even as my nails dug into his back, urging him closer. “I have a hard time believing that right now.”

He pulled back, capturing my face in his strong hands, kissing me fiercely as a low growl escaped him. “Believe it.”

We kissed with a fierce intensity that made me feel like I was on fire, the heat radiating off him, his glasses pressing against my face. He shifted to remove them, but I caught his wrists, holding him in place.

“Don’t,” I growled. “I like them.”

A primal sound erupted from his chest, desperate and raw. He lifted me effortlessly, settling me against the back of the couch, our bodies grinding together, my thighs aligning perfectly with the hard heat of his jeans. Each thrust sent a new wave of pleasure surging through me, my head falling back as I teetered on the brink of ecstasy, feeling weightless and electric, consumed by a desire that felt like it could set us both ablaze.

But he caught me. Just as I was about to tumble backward into dizzying, white-hot pleasure, his arms wrapped around me, firm and unyielding, pulling me against the solid expanse of his chest. My breath came in quick, frantic gasps, my heart racing like a wild animal as I clung to him, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, drawing him closer.

“Careful, pretty girl,” he breathed into my ear, a soft murmur that sent shivers racing down my spine. I grasped at his back, fingers digging into the taut muscles, anchoring myself to him, afraid of being swept away in the tide of desire threatening to pull me under.

My hands roamed from his back, gliding over his shoulders and down his arms as he stroked his fingertips along my thighs, mapping a path from my knees to my hips and back again. His skin was warm, electric under my touch, and I traced the intricate black curls of ink adorning his pale flesh—an abstract tapestry resolving into a lion on one arm and a lamb on the other.

“You’re beautiful,” I gasped, the words spilling out before I could stop them, but he silenced me with another heated kiss.

My fingers fumbled at the hem of his t-shirt, desperate to see what those curls of ink transformed into beneath the fabric. He shifted me closer, his grip on me unwavering, even as his hands momentarily released me to lift his arms above his head. Seizing the opportunity, I tugged at his shirt, peeling it away to reveal the canvas of his torso, the intricate lines of ink telling stories I longed to hear.

I barely had time to take in the intricate Sanskrit lines etched along his side and the lone kanji character hovering over his heart before he was lifting my shirt, pulling it over my head. For a heartbeat, I was enveloped in darkness, blinded by the fabric. My hands scrambled behind me, fumbling to unclasp my bra, and he kissed a heated trail along the bare skin of my shoulder as the straps slipped down my arms.

“I love this,” he murmured against my skin, his lips trailing softly across my collarbone, down my ribs, and back to my breast, igniting every nerve in my body. “And I love it all the more because of this.”

His tongue brushed over the small butterfly tattoo on my ribcage.

His fingers roamed lower, and when he pulled away, I let out a whimper of protest, longing for his touch. The light-headed sensation returned, reminding me just how long it had been since a man had touched me—since I’d felt filled.

I braced myself with one hand against the edge of the couch while the other tangled in his tousled hair, relishing its softness as it slipped through my fingers. His mouth found my stomach, his tongue dipping into my navel, tracing a tantalizing line toward my most sensitive spot. I gasped, an overwhelming hunger igniting deep within me. I had been yearning for this, for him, and the desperate need flooded my senses.

With deft fingers, he teased apart the button of my fly and drew down the zipper, revealing delicate black lace beneath. He licked and sucked his way to my hip, his hand lingering on my abdomen, thumb skirting under the edge of my underwear before descending lower, finally finding bare, glistening skin. When his fingers grazed my clit, pleasure surged through me, and I nearly cried out at its raw intensity.

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping,” he cursed, his voice rough with desire as he buried his face against the joint of my hip and thigh.

“For you,” I groaned, my body arching instinctively. “I’ve been wet for months just thinking about you.”

A low growl escaped him, and in a blur of motion, he tore the hem of my jeans down, ripping them from my body until I was left in nothing but my panties. He pushed my naked thighs up and over his shoulders, positioning his head exactly where I craved him to be.

I struggled to contain my frantic breaths, fast and shallow, echoing my absolute need to feel his hands, his mouth, to be consumed by him entirely. He inhaled deeply, reverently, his nose brushing against the lace where my body met my thigh. The sensation sent shockwaves through me, rendering me breathless.

He wrapped one hand around my leg while the other snaked behind me, gripping my ass firmly, anchoring me as he pulled the soaked fabric aside, exposing my bare skin to his hungry gaze. His thumb descended onto my clit, and I gasped, waves of need crashing over me as pleasure radiated from his touch. I cried out, the sound escaping me like a prayer, my body arching toward him, desperate for more.

And then he kissed me, his mouth capturing my clit with an intensity that sent me spiraling.

The moans clawing their way from my chest were unrecognizable, a desperate symphony of need as I became a writhing mass of pure, unadulterated hunger. Unlatching himself, his thumb worked expertly at my clit, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through me. His tongue darted out, teasing the edges of my entrance before plunging inside, and I felt the pressure building, the storm that had been gathering finally reaching its peak until I exploded, my thighs clenching around his face as my body ignited into a searing inferno.

I teetered on the edge of ecstasy, and then I actually fell over, the world spiraling away.

When I regained awareness, I was sprawled across the back of the couch, my neck twisted awkwardly, the top of my head grazing the seat cushion. My arms draped limply above me while my thighs remained anchored to his shoulders. He gazed down at me, a mixture of curiosity and satisfaction etched across his face, his mouth glistening—a testament to our fervor.

With a wicked smirk, he wiped his mouth with his forearm, leaving me in my awkward state as he peeled my panties down my body, rendering me completely exposed and unable to rise. His finger glided along my opening, my body still thrumming with aftershocks from one of the most intense orgasms I’d ever experienced. When he dipped gently inside, I gasped.

“Is this what you want, Y/N? My hands inside you?”

I found myself ensnared in a whirlwind of emotions; I craved this intimacy with him more than anything, yet it felt like just a fragment of the whole picture. The sensation of his fingers deep within me was intoxicating, but beneath that, there lingered a yearning for more—more than just his hands. I ached for him—his body hovering over mine, the heat radiating from him as I traced the ink etched across his skin, my tongue teasing the silver piercings that adorned him.

“Yes. No. God, I want you,” I gasped, my voice a mixture of longing and desperation.

He raised a pierced eyebrow, still kneeling before me, his fingers buried deep inside me. “Want your cock.”

“You want this dick?” he asked, his tone both teasing and serious.

“Yes,” I panted, the word slipping out as both a plea and a command.

“Where?”

I knew exactly where I wanted him; the desire burned brightly within me. “Everywhere. My hand. My mouth. My pussy. Just… everywhere.”

A low growl escaped him, reverberating through my body, raw and hungry. But just as quickly, his fingers slipped away, leaving me aching and empty. He gripped my hips, securing me against him and the back of the couch, rising to slide my slick core against the hard line of his body. The urgency of his arousal pressed against me, igniting a fire within.

He leaned down, gathering me into his arms, kissing me with such fervor that I felt dizzy, his hardness grinding against me—a promise of what was to come.

I pushed him away gently, his expression shifting to one of confusion, but all I needed was a moment to slide off the couch and drop to my knees. He groaned as I ran my nose along the thick outline of him through his jeans, feeling him twitch in response to my teasing. With trembling hands, I tugged his pants and boxers down, revealing him—long, thick, and glistening with anticipation.

The chrome piercing at the tip caught the light, gleaming enticingly.

Looking up, I found him hovering above me, his body bared save for those damn glasses. His intense gaze locked onto mine, a silent plea reflected in his brown eyes. “Y/N,” I breathed, letting my warm breath wash over the tip of him. He groaned, his fingers tangling in my hair, urging me forward.

“God, I want to feel your mouth on me,” he implored, igniting a wild hunger within me.

I opened my mouth, eager and wet, my lips closing around the head of him, my tongue tracing the underside, the cool metal against warm flesh sending shivers down my spine.

“Y/N.”

I pulled away before I could take him too deep, trailing my mouth down his length, savoring every moment as I buried my nose into the soft hair at the base of him. He was practically whimpering, and I couldn’t resist the urge to pump him twice with my hand, the slickness gliding over him before I took him into my mouth, relaxing my throat to envelop him. Yet even with all my efforts, I couldn’t fit him completely, and I rubbed my thighs together, craving the moment he would finally fill me.

I moved my mouth up and down his length, achingly slow, feeling the tension coiling within him, his hips twitching, restrained. He wanted to thrust, to take control, but I held him back, guiding his movements while keeping him still. I could sense his legs trembling, teetering on the edge, so I pulled off, leaving him panting, his length throbbing, a testament to our shared desire.

Kissing the sharp bone of his hip, I pulled his pants the rest of the way down as he kicked off his shoes, the fabric sliding away like a whisper in the night. Just as I was about to toss the jeans aside, he stopped me, his voice low and husky. “Back pocket.”

Curiosity piqued, I glanced up at him through narrowed eyes and retrieved the little foil package from his back pocket. I noticed at least two more tucked away, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he had remarkable recovery time or if he was planning a very long weekend with me. Both notions sent a thrilling rush coursing through me

I held the condom up between two of my fingers. Jungkook snatched the package from me, tearing it open with a deft motion, rolling it over his cock from tip to base. He pressed his sheathed length against my hip, our bodies brushing together with a desperation that left me breathless.

“Turn,” he commanded, gently pushing at my shoulder. I obeyed, and his hands shoved me down, bending me from the waist, positioning my elbows on the back of the couch. When he was satisfied with my submission, he settled his hands firmly on my shoulder blades, a searing presence that felt as though it might melt through my skin, branding me with his touch.

His hands glided down my sides, over my ribs and hips, finally settling on my ass, rubbing it appreciatively. The edges of his fingers grazed my lips, parting them, and I jerked backward, feeling the heat of his cock resting against my back.

“Wider, baby,” he cooed, his fingers sliding over my trembling thighs. I closed my eyes, overwhelmed by the rush of sensation, and obeyed, spreading my legs for him. His knees bent between mine, the tip of his cock gliding tantalizingly from my clit to my entrance, brushing against me but not penetrating.

“Please, Jungkook,” I panted, desperation clawing at my throat as I felt myself teetering on the edge of begging.

Even he found himself pleading. “Please let me inside you,” he whispered, his length teasingly tracing my wet flesh, dipping slightly to part my lips but not filling the aching void within me.

“Yes,” I groaned, finally feeling the head of his cock pressing against my entrance, slipping into me inch by glorious inch. Nothing had ever felt this intense. “Fuck, yes,” I moaned, his grip hot and possessive at my hip while the other hand cradled the back of my neck, steadying me.

It was maddening not being able to move, even though all I wanted was to rock back and pull him deeper.

My body stretched as he pushed forward, achingly slow until he was fully seated within me, his hips flush against my backside. I gasped as he filled me completely. The sensation was electrifying, and I felt him rock back slightly before surging forward again, the combination of his length and the hot tip of metal against my walls making my eyes roll.

“Please,” I urged, my mantra of ‘yes’ and ‘fuck me’ spiraling from my lips as he finally began to thrust with abandon, our bodies locked in a passionate dance.

He tightened his grip on my hip, the other hand sliding to the middle of my back, pushing down. I could feel his movements becoming erratic, less steady—so close to coming inside me.

But I didn’t want it to end like this. Not after all this time.

“No, stop,” I breathed, the words barely escaping my lips before he froze, a pained sound erupting from him like a wounded animal.

“Please, Jesus, Y/N, you can’t—”

I glanced over my shoulder at him, squeezing him tightly inside me. The resulting moan from his throat sent a jolt of electricity through my body. The rejection and frustration etched across his face twisted my heart. “After all this time missing you,” I whispered, locking eyes with him, “I need to see you. I need to see you come.”

In an instant, he withdrew, turning my body roughly until I felt the couch pressing against me once more. Supporting my back with one hand, he parted my thighs with fierce urgency, stepping into them and plunging back inside me. I screamed, the sound echoing through the empty corners of the room.

His face was close to mine as he began to move again, quick, short thrusts finding a new rhythm. Our sweaty brows collided, the metal hoops of his piercings scratching my skin, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. His name spilled from my lips as we captured each other in another fiery kiss, a moment so intense I thought I could lose myself entirely in the swirl of our bodies, his ink swirling around us like dark tendrils of smoke.

His patience began to fray as he kissed me harder, his body pressing into mine with more urgency. I felt the fiery bloom of pleasure building again, hot and electric, and I craved him hard and fast—a deep connection stripped of all restraint.

He must have sensed my need, too, as he quickened his pace. “Hold on, baby,” he instructed, and I complied, wrapping my arms and legs around him tightly. I let him brace himself against the back of the couch as he drove into me, his pubic bone hitting my clit with each thrust, the metal piercing hitting deep within me making me mewl.

“I’m coming, Y/N. Fuck,” he moans, the raw desperation in his voice igniting something primal within me.

His face contorts in a beautiful, twisted expression of pleasure, each thrust deeper, harder, as if he’s trying to etch this moment into my very soul. The intensity of his words washes over me like a tidal wave, pulling me into a realm of oblivion. My body pulses in rhythm with his, a white-hot light flashing behind my closed eyes, merging with the vision of him—so fully present in my arms, lost in the sheer ecstasy we’ve created together.

As the world around us faded, time seemed to suspend, leaving only the two of us in a cocoon of warmth and intimacy. I could feel the weight of our shared moments pressing against us, every sensation amplified in the silence that enveloped the room. Slowly, we began to come back to ourselves, his body still pressed against mine, a gentle reminder of the electrifying connection we had just shared. The feeling of him lingering inside me sent shivers down my spine, and our breaths intertwined in a rhythm that was both calming and exhilarating.

We exchanged soft kisses, each one delicate and filled with unspoken promises, contrasting the raw passion that had ignited between us moments before. It was a tender kind of intimacy, one that held the power to ground us in a whirlwind of emotions.

After a moment, he pulled away, slipping out of me with a reluctance that made my heart ache just a little. The sudden emptiness was palpable, a gentle reminder of the closeness we had just experienced. Jungkook reached for the condom, his movements careful and deliberate, disposing of it in the wastebasket beside the couch. When he turned back to me, the soft glow of the room caught the contours of his face, illuminating him in a way that made him look almost ethereal.

“You’re really here,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the magic of the moment.

“I’m here,” I replied, unable to suppress the grin that broke across my face. He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and this moment felt surreal.

Jungkook walked back over to the couch, his gaze roaming over my features as if he were trying to memorize every detail. “You look even better than I remembered,” he said, his smile soft and genuine, lighting up his eyes.

“And you look exhausted,” I teased, noticing the faint shadows under his eyes that spoke of sleepless nights and busy days.

He laughed, the sound brightening the room and melting away any remnants of anxiety I had carried with me. “It’s been a crazy week, but seeing you makes it all worth it.”

A smile broke across my face, the tension of the past months finally beginning to dissolve. For the first time since I had arrived, I took in my surroundings. The room felt both elegant and cozy, drenched in soft light, with tasteful decor that radiated warmth. A large bed dominated the space, its crisp white sheets looking impossibly inviting, and I found myself wishing we could make our way over there. It seemed far more comfortable than the couch.

“How was your flight?” Jungkook asked, bending down to plant a gentle kiss on my forehead, sending warmth flooding through me.

“Long,” I admitted. “But I couldn’t sleep. I was too excited.” The truth was, anticipation had been buzzing in my veins like electricity ever since I’d set foot on the plane.

He settled next to me on the couch, his hand finding mine, our fingers intertwining in a way that felt instinctive. “I’ve missed you so much,” he said, his thumb tracing small patterns on my skin, making my heart flutter in response.

“I’ve missed you too,” I replied, squeezing his hand tightly. “It feels like forever.”

We fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the city lights twinkling outside like a constellation trapped within a glass jar. The reality of being here with him began to sink in, settling deep in my bones. No more video calls with choppy connections or hurried texts exchanged amid the chaos of our lives—just us, flesh and blood, finally in the same place.

Breaking the quiet, Jungkook’s tone turned serious, slicing through the warmth that enveloped us. “How are you holding up? I know it’s been tough.”

I took a deep breath, weighing my response. “It’s been hard,” I admitted, the truth heavy on my tongue. “But knowing we’d have this, even just a couple of days, kept me going.”

He nodded, understanding etched on his face. “It’s the same for me. The craziness of the tour and the constant traveling—it’s all worth it knowing I get to see you.”

His words wrapped around me like a warm blanket on a cold night, soothing my weary soul. We talked for hours, drifting through a sea of conversation that felt both substantial and light, catching up on everything and nothing. His stories from the tour spilled out with infectious excitement, his eyes alight like fireflies in the dark. I shared my own experiences, and with every word, the distance between us began to melt away until it felt like the space of a single breath.

Eventually, exhaustion crept in like a gentle shadow, heavy yet comforting. Jungkook stood up and held out his hand, a playful glimmer in his eyes. “Come on,” he said, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Let’s move to the bed. It’s way more comfortable.”

I took his hand, allowing him to guide me across the room. The large bed loomed before us, inviting and cozy, the crisp white sheets beckoning like a sanctuary. As we settled into the plush comfort, I felt a wave of contentment wash over me, a feeling that we were finally exactly where we were meant to be. We lay side by side, fingers intertwined like threads in a tapestry, the world outside fading into a dull hum, the city’s chaos a distant memory.

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bnpd · 10 days ago

Text

❛❛ the bed's getting cold and you're not here ❜❜

now playing : the heart wants what it wants by selena gomez ♫⋆.˚

SYNOPSIS: your boyfriend left to travel the world for a press tour that'll last months. the distance between you causes a rift. however much it hurts, you love him and you'll choose what your heart wants above all else. will you soon regret your decision?

DRABBLE WORD COUNT: 1.2k tags: angst pairing: jungkook x reader

author's note: not proofread, I wrote this after I saw this jungkook edit. i miss jungkook so bad </3

It’s been weeks since he left for his press tour. And the ache in your heart remains.

Long periods of time where he’d leave you cold and wanting. Days gone without contacting one another.

Every other week you’d schedule a video or voice call, and those 30 to 60 minutes would feel amazing. Until he’d get pulled away for a meeting, or a responsibility in his heavily packed schedule.

He'd send you endless pictures and videos of his favorite sights, but it only stung more. Not being able to be there for him or experience these new sights with him. How could you? You had a life back home.

A life full of work and personal responsibilities. Maybe you could leave it behind for just a moment, but you had already gave up so much for him.

You had so much to lose while he had an inch. You lost so much in the process of it all.

Secrets about your relationship ruined your friendships. No one could know you were dating Jungkook, sneaking around created mistrust within your friendships.

You had to be cautious or else word would get around and suddenly everything would get blown out of proportion. The pinch of privacy would diminish in a heartbeat.

You began to put him above your friends. How could you not? The way he made you feel was electrifying. It was him or no one.

He didn’t treat you wrong, never disrespected you or made you feel less of who you were as a person. He completed you. But his work as an idol meant so much more to him. It consumed him and his time.

You understood. You met him as someone who was dedicated to his craft. Somebody who spent day and night proving himself in a dance studio or a record booth.

You sigh as you watch your call go to voicemail. Your throat tightens, and tears begin to blur your vision.

You swallow the lump in your throat before setting your phone face down on the table. Too much of a coward to antagonize yourself over a possible message from him.

He promised. And he broke it.

Lately, he’d been blowing you off. You knew how much this press tour meant to him. How much time and dedication he put into this. How content he would feel after finishing. How he needed this to feel more worthy of his role as a singer.

This time it felt a little different. He’d always make it to your scheduled calls. He’d never miss a date or a detail. You were beyond worried.

Some say it’s a weakness, staying, but it takes so much of you everyday. It’s a strength in itself, although some say it’s a weakness. Like today.

Today, it feels like your heart pounds against your chest at the thought of him, yearning for him.

Sometimes you weaken—sometimes days feel never ending and you find yourself wondering what the future holds. It’s during days like these where the ache feels too uncertain, and the unknown renders you helpless.

It pains you to watch him all over your social media, smiling and content. While you curl up on his side of the shared bed on most nights, watching him from the other side of the world, waiting to even hear from him directly.

You met him 7 years ago. You were working as a tattoo artist–still are–and he came in with his friend, looking for a sentimental tattoo—something that would stick with him.

So, you drafted up some pieces for him based on what he shared with you. Shockingly, he only wanted a four letter word on his knuckles. You happily obliged.

Then, he kept coming for more tattoos. And more, and more.

As a tattoo artist, sometimes you get close to a client. Especially when said client appreciates art, and an outside perspective on his thoughts through another artist's point of view.

Then two years down, he asked you out.

You should have known better than to involve yourself with a lifestyle like Jungkook’s. You had dealt with quite a few semi-popular clients throughout your years of working. But Jungkook? He was by far, the most special one.

The media had begun to speculate about your relationship, but Jungkook never made a comment on it and soon they forgot about it. Or they buried it under the rest of the endless theories.

Soon though, things began to get a little hectic. With how fast BTS was rising to fame his time for you began to dwindle.

You wish you were strong enough to leave and find better. But you don’t want to. Your heart is content in being where it is. With him. Where it belongs.

Even as he takes it with him far away.

You smile pitifully before blowing out your birthday candles. A pain in your chest explodes and it begins to invade your insides, suffocating you. It leaves you breathless and winded. It wounds you so strongly that you rub your chest in a futile attempt to ease the pain.

It hurts more when you recall the last conversation you two had. Was he still upset?

“Baby…come on, don’t be like that.”

“Don’t be like what?” You frown, knowing he won’t see it, but the yearning in your chest makes you ache all over.

“Like that.” You can hear the slight frustration in his tone and it almost makes you burst out in tears. You try your best to keep your composure. For his sake and yours.

“I’m not trying to be like anything,” you murmur, “I just miss you. It’s been several days where I haven't heard from you.”

He sighs on the other end of the phone before speaking, “I miss you too, and I know. I’m sorry for that. But hearing you like this isn’t making it any easier for me.”

You feel incredibly annoying. It hurts to miss him everyday.

Maybe expressing your feelings about it may not have helped.

But in the end, you're just as hurt and sometimes the emotions bottled up come out unwarranted. “And you think it’s any easier for me?”

Now you’re just peeved at his reaction. When you told him about the ache in your chest from his absence you didn’t mean to offend him. You simply wanted to find safety in his reassurance.

So, you continue to push a little more, “Is it so wrong to miss my boyfriend? I’m sorry if my tone doesn’t sound like the happiest person in the world. I just miss you.”

“Well, I’m trying to have a conversation with you and you’re just bringing my mood down with all this shit.”

His rough tone laced in annoyance stuns you to silence.

“Okay. Then, I’ll just take it somewhere else.”

“Wait–” You hang up the phone before the tears begin to fall freely.

Truthfully you felt guilty after your conversation with Jungkook. After you cried out, you reflected and realized that his words held some truth. Would you have felt good if your partner called you and they sounded a bit dejected? Of course.

So you texted him an apology, acknowledging his feelings and your mistakes.

Unfortunately for you, he never replied.

The next phone call never acknowledged the incident. But you did—countless times in your cage of a mind.

Jungkook was, by no means, awful to you. Before he left on his press tour, he was the most amazing boyfriend. Which is why you give him some leeway.

He’s a busy man, an honest and loyal one. You trust him with your life. He’s worth the ache, you convince yourself. He’s worth the sleepless nights full of sadness and endless insecurities. A man like Jungkook is rare to come by.

So, you’ll hold onto him until you can’t—until your arms ache and they physically can no longer withstand the strain.

You’ll wait for him, for as long as you must. You just hope you’re still worth coming home to when he returns. Then, you hope tomorrow goes easier on your hopelessly devoted heart.

NOTES: ngl might make a part 2 of jungkooks pov, using a JB song that fits this exact scenario. and I AM CURRENTLY ACTIVELY WORKING ON GOJO FIC, ITS LONG ASF !

feel more than welcome to submit a request <3 ᥫ᭡ join my tag list :

#bnpd tumblr #angst #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #x reader #reader insert #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook and reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook imagine #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts x fem!reader

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melancholy-of-nadia · 9 months ago

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infatuation (m) | myg

title: infatuation pairing: yoongi x f. reader rating/genre: m ; smut ; agust d universe (AgustDverse based in Haegeum) ; gang leader / mafia AU summary: Living with fragmented and blurry memories has lead you to live under the roof of Bangkok's biggest secret crime boss, Agust D, as his bodyguard. Though, being confined to the mansion most of the time has made you feel isolated, craving freedom and answers. When he decides to take you out to dinner for the first time, the atmosphere is charged with tension and suspicion. You're not the only one who's patience is wearing thin, however, instead, it's discovering this man's infatuation with you that will lead you to change your mind. warnings: weapon mention (katana), reader has minor amnesia, back and forth arguing, murder mention, deep fish imagery/analogy, haegeum!suga mention, dominant haegeum! agust d, making out, penthouse s*x, f*ngering, cl*t stimulation, orgasm denial, choking, power imbalance, bl*w job, bre*st play, spiting, deep throating, pet names, agust d praises you by calling you "good girl", unprotected s*x, lowkey breeding k*nk, choking, possessiveness, multiple orgasms, uh i think that's it!... yandere? haegeum!agust d maybe note: it's been a year since i uploaded my first fic in this universe i call the AgustDverse. Also the first fic that got me into writing bts fics! I've been requested to continue this universe by my dear friend @daegudrama. I don't know if it'll ever become an actual cohesive series, but if you guys like it, let me know! also this is veerrrryyyyy much unedited im sorry i will edit later word count: 6.0k drop date: August 6th, 2024 7:30pm PST mood playlist | ao3 link – –

You never thought you'd find yourself in this situation—nestled within the mansion walls of a mafia boss masquerading as a police detective.

Known as Agust D.

How did you get here? It's a question that continuously echoes through your mind like a constant drumbeat.

It’s not an easy question to answer. It’s actually pretty complicated. Time travel? A quantum jump? You don’t know whatever scientific phenomenon this is.

But for your own sanity, you decided not to dwell too much on it, especially when the present demands your full attention.

Agust has let you live here under the guise of acting as his bodyguard, which is perhaps the strangest thing you've ever done. You had no prior guarding experience, but the katana sword that hangs by your side now tells otherwise. This item is a constant reminder of your supposed purpose here: to protect the mansion, to protect Agust D. But deep down, you know there's more to this arrangement than meets the eye.

Tonight, however, is different. Agust D, the enigmatic master of this mansion, has extended an invitation—an invitation to dine at an upscale Chinese restaurant. It's a rare opportunity to step beyond the confines of these walls, to breathe in the outside world, if only for a fleeting moment.

As you stand before the full-length mirror in your room, you can't help but feel a surge of apprehension. The maids have stated that Agust D insisted you wear a black satin dress he selected for the occasion—a garment that feels foreign against your skin, yet somehow fitting for the night. You’re too used to wearing a collared white button-up and a plaid skirt for most of the time while you’re at the mansion. You don’t know how long you’d been wearing that, but definitely longer than a young girl who’s in prep school.

Adjusting the delicate fabric, you take in your reflection, the unfamiliarity of the attire almost unnerving.

A knock at the door interrupts your contemplation, and without waiting for a response, Agust D enters, his presence commanding the room. Dressed in a tailored black suit that exudes power and authority, he regards you with a scrutinizing gaze.

"You look stunning," he remarks, a hint of satisfaction tugging at the corners of his lips. "Are you ready to go?"

With a half nod, you follow him down the stairs and out of the mansion, the cool night air wrapping around you like a shroud of secrecy. Then you hop into the black sports car, which Yoongi decides to drive this time instead of his chauffeur.

The journey to the restaurant is silent, punctuated only by the quiet sounds of the piano music playing, which came from connecting Agust D’s phone to the car’s aux.

He really does love Ryuichi Sakamoto’s music, you comment internally to yourself.

When you arrive at the restaurant, you're met with the grandeur of an upscale Chinese eatery perched on the top floor of a hotel building. The space is a harmonious blend of modern elegance and traditional opulence. As you step inside, the ambient chatter of elite people and the soft clinking of cutlery fill the air, creating a lively yet refined atmosphere that contrasts sharply with the muted silence of the mansion.

The restaurant’s interior is a feast for the senses. Rich, dark wood paneling lines the walls, accented by gold and red details that evoke a sense of luxury. Elegant lanterns hang from the ceiling, their warm, golden light casting a gentle glow across the room. The tables are adorned with crisp white linens, polished silverware, and delicate porcelain dishes, each piece carefully chosen to complement the sophisticated ambiance.

The scent of Chinese cuisine mingles with the faint aroma of incense, creating an inviting and tantalizing atmosphere. The restaurant's design features intricate latticework and traditional Chinese artwork, adding a touch of cultural authenticity to the modern setting. Plush, comfortable chairs surround each table, offering a sense of intimacy and relaxation.

As the restaurant host takes note of Agust D standing beside you, there’s a brief moment of panic in his eyes. He quickly ushers you both to a secluded corner of the establishment, a private nook separated from the rest of the dining area by elegant silk drapes. This area, though separated, still enjoys a view of the city skyline through large, floor-to-ceiling windows, offering a breathtaking panorama of the illuminated city below.

You are seated across from Agust, but there’s still a subtle awkward atmosphere surrounding the both of you when he orders and after the food arrives.

For a moment, the clinking of silverware against porcelain fills the silence before Agust D finally speaks.

"Do you still not remember anything?"

You hesitate, uncertainty flickering in the depths of your eyes about how to respond to him. "Bits and pieces," you admit, your gaze lingering on the dimly lit surroundings. "But nothing concrete. It's like trying to grasp at shadows."

His expression remains impassive, but you catch a fleeting glimpse of something else—something akin to regret, perhaps, or even longing. "It will come back to you," he says, his tone softer than before. "With time."

You only nod, going back to eating one of the xiaolongbao at the center of the table.

The air between you and Agust D grows heavier once again with unspoken words. You don’t like the silence. As someone who is very self-aware of their self, you feel compelled to break the silence to not be stuck in your head.

"Agust D," you begin tentatively, the name feeling foreign on your tongue yet strangely familiar. You don’t refer to him by name often, as you opt for ‘sir’ or the occasional ‘Hyungnim’. "Why did you bring me here tonight? You never do this sort of thing…"

He regards you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. "Well, you've been cooped up in that mansion for so long," he replies cryptically, his gaze piercing through the facade you've carefully constructed. “Thought it would be good to treat you for your work.”

"But why now?" you press, unable to suppress the curiosity gnawing at your insides. "And wearing this?" You refer to the short piece of black fabric covering you.

Agust D's lips quirk up in a wry smile, though there's no warmth in it. "Maybe I wanted to see how you'd be like out… not on duty," he muses, his eyes never leaving yours. "Or perhaps I simply wanted company for the evening."

Company, huh? From the outside, it looks like you’re on a date. You wouldn’t doubt the restaurant staff is already gossiping from behind the curtains partitioning you from the rest of the world.

You can't help but feel a sense of unease at his words, a nagging suspicion that there's more to his motives than meets the eye. "Is that really all?" you press, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "Or is there something else you're not telling me?"

For a moment, Agust D's mask slips, revealing a flicker of vulnerability beneath the facade of indifference. "There's always more to say," he murmurs, his gaze turning distant as if lost in memories you can't access. "But some things are better left unsaid."

What does he even mean by that? You feel like every time you speak even a bit casually to this man, you only end up more confused and maybe even a bit more scared.

"Agust D," you venture cautiously, "...are you still looking for Suga?"

At the mention of the name, a shadow passes over Agust D's features, his expression hardening into a mask of resolve. "Suga," he repeats, the name dripping with bitterness and contempt. "Of course I’m looking for him. That man is nothing but trouble. I need to get rid of him."

You can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the man whose name hangs between you like a specter, a reminder of the past you can't quite grasp. "But why? Why do you hate him so much?" you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Agust D's eyes darken with a mix of anger and regret, a storm raging beneath the surface. "He’s got my face and that in itself is a danger to all of us," he admits, his voice raw with emotion. "He could also be the answer to everything I've lost, but it’s better if that answer is never revealed."

The words hang heavy in the air from a confession laden with pain. And as you gaze into the depths of Agust D's eyes, you realize that beneath the cold exterior lies a man haunted by his past—a man who, like you, is searching for answers, but afraid to confront them. You want to pry into what he means, but you’re scared that he may act aggressively. So instead you change the topic.

"Don’t you know his whereabouts though?" you inquire softly, your voice laced with concern.

Agust D's gaze meets yours. "I do," he confirms, his voice low and measured. "He’s in Chinatown. Living in an apartment at the end of Weng Nakorn Kasem. But I can’t act on impulse. I’m too heavily involved in the Asia Pacific Police Union, and that already involves too many variables, too many unknowns."

A sense of foreboding settles over you as you listen to his words, the weight of his burdens pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. "What do you mean?" you press, your voice barely a whisper.

Agust D sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I can't move against him yet," he admits, his tone laced with resignation. "Not until I know how many people are on my side. There are spies within the organization. If I act too quickly, I could end up getting myself killed…"

The gravity of his words hangs heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the fragile truce that exists between you. And yet, despite the dangers that lurk in the darkness, you can't help but feel a flicker of hope. If you help him in capturing Suga, then maybe you’ll be able to piece your own puzzle together.

But would that even be a good idea?

"Agust D," you say softly, smiling gently at him, "you know you don't have to face this alone. Whatever happens, I'll stand by your side. Not like I have much of a choice anyway." Your words trail off at the end. He doesn’t comment on it though.

For a moment, there's a vulnerability in Agust D's gaze, a fleeting glimpse of the man beneath the mask. He reaches out to take your hand, his expression softening ever so slightly at your words. "Thanks," he murmurs, his voice a whisper in the dimly lit restaurant.

“It’s my job after all.”

––––––

After finishing dinner, the two of you begin to walk out of the restaurant, entering a long hallway that leads to large red sliding doors that exit. Your eyes drift toward the grand wall aquarium positioned near the exit, its towering glass panels reflecting the soft glow of the overhead lights.

The aquarium is a masterpiece of design, housing a diverse array of aquatic life within its transparent confines. Colorful coral reefs sway gently in the water, their vibrant hues casting mesmerizing patterns of light and shadow across the sandy substrate below.

But amidst the bustling underwater ecosystem, your gaze fixates on a lone goldfish, its sleek form gliding gracefully through the water. Its vibrant orange scales shimmer in the ambient light, a stark contrast to the subdued colors of its surroundings.

A pang of concern tugs at your heart as you watch the solitary fish navigate its artificial habitat. Don't goldfish typically reside in tranquil ponds, surrounded by the soothing sounds of nature? Is it even safe for them to be confined within the confines of this glass enclosure?

Lost in thought, you fail to notice Agust D's departure until you feel a gentle tug on your arm. Startled, you turn to find him regarding you with a curious expression, his gaze flickering between you and the aquarium.

"What's on your mind?" he asks softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You tear your gaze away from the mesmerizing display before you, your thoughts still lingering on the lone koi fish. "I was just...thinking about that fish," you admit, gesturing toward the aquarium.

“The goldfish?”

“Mhm,” As you stand there, watching the solitary koi fish swim about, a wistful sigh escapes your lips. "I wish I were a fish sometimes," you murmur.

As funny as your sentence sounds, you thought the older man would laugh at you for making a comment like that. However, Agust D's gaze flickers at you, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

"Why's that?" he asks, his voice soft with intrigue.

You pause, contemplating your answer as you watch the graceful movements of the fish. "Uh, well they seem so free," you explain, your voice tinged with longing. “They get to go wherever they want. move through life with such ease in the water, not burdened by the weight of the world.”

As you continue to watch the fish, a sense of yearning wells up within you—a desire to shed the constraints of your human existence. "Sometimes," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper, "I wish I could trade places with that fish just so I could be able to live freely, to live without my own burdens."

Agust D nods in understanding, a silent reassurance amid your musings. "But you know, even fish have their own struggles. I mean, look at it, it’s trapped in this Chinese restaurant’s aquarium as entertainment for guests, fighting to survive in a place it doesn’t belong,”

Sigh.

He’s right. But you hate the fact that he’s right.

“That still doesn’t change what I said. Plus, I don't want to be that fish.” you interject, your voice laced with a hint of sadness. "Slowly destroyed by its surroundings… not belonging there."

Agust D's brow furrows in contemplation, his gaze returning to the small goldfish. "So what are you trying to say?"

"I don't want to feel like that," you admit. "Trapped in a world that doesn't feel like home, constantly struggling to find where I belong!"

And you hate it because that is exactly how you’ve been feeling right now. You’re living with a man several years older than you, who is probably the most dangerous man in Thailand, maybe even all of Asia. And you have no idea why you stuck here with him, but where could you really go? Where are you actually from? Where is home?

Agust D's expression hardens slightly, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "Life isn't always about feeling at home," he counters. "Sometimes it's about surviving where you are and making the best of it."

No! He doesn’t get it.

You feel a flicker of irritation at his words, your emotions bubbling just beneath the surface. "That's easy for you to say," you retort, tone sharp. "You're not the one who's been confined to that mansion, to these guarding duties, waiting for memories to come back."

His eyes narrow slightly, a spark of challenge igniting in them. "You think I don't have my own battles?" he snaps back. "I'm out there every day, dealing with threats you can't even imagine."

"At least you have control over these things. You have the entirety of this city wrapped around your finger," you snap, the words spilling out before you can stop them. "At least you know who you are and what you're fighting for!”

The tension between you two shifts. Agust D steps closer, his presence looming, but you refuse to back down, meeting his gaze with unwavering resolve.

Inside, you're a storm of emotions—anger, confusion, and a touch of desperation. How can he be so dense and unreadable, yet so annoyingly calm? It's like talking to a brick wall sometimes. Every word you say seems to bounce off him while his expression remaining infuriatingly stoic. You want to scream, to make him understand just how much this is tearing you apart, but he stands there, unmoved, as if your turmoil is nothing more than a slight breeze in his world.

“Agust, you–”

"Fuck…you're so hot when you're upset, doll," he murmurs, interrupting you with a low growl that sends a shiver down your spine. Before you can react, he grabs your arm, pulling you toward the exit.

Huh?

"Hey!" you protest, your frustration mingling with a surge of adrenaline. But Agust D doesn't relent, his grip firm as he guides you out of the restaurant and into the elevator.

As the elevator doors slide shut, sealing you both inside the confined space, the tension between you reaches a boiling point. "What are you doing?" you demand, your voice a mix of anger and confusion.

Instead of answering, Agust D pushes you against the wall, his lips crashing down on yours with a fierce intensity. Your initial resistance melts away as the kiss deepens, the heat between you igniting into a blazing inferno powered by unknown frustrations beneath the surface.

You pull back just enough to catch your breath, your chest heaving as you glare at him. "You can't just—" you start, but he silences you with another kiss, his hands roaming possessively over your body.

"I can and I will," he murmurs against your lips, his voice a husky whisper. "Because right now, all I can think about is you."

Your frustration mingles with a heady mix of desire, the lines between anger and passion blurring as you give in to the moment. As the elevator ascends, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you.

When the elevator dings softly, signaling its arrival on your floor, you find yourselves in a private hallway in the hotel building, the opulent surroundings a stark contrast to the intensity of your kiss. Agust D pulls back, his eyes dark with desire and determination.

"We're not done talking," he says, his voice a low rumble that sends a thrill through you. "But right now, I need you."

Your eyes are left wide open, feeling hormones coursing through you.

This can’t be happening. Is this all a dream? Yes, this has to be. And what’s with the scenario? Are you that sexually frustrated? You admit you’ve never done this sort of thing and have only spent your free time reading erotica for entertainment.

But to dream about fucking the very man keeping you captive within his mansion and living as a bodyguard. There has got to be something wrong with you. Maybe you’re experiencing Stockholm syndrome? But you’ve not once felt emotionally attached to this man.

Though there have been times you’ve looked at him and thought about how beautiful he looked.

Shit.

Maybe you’ll go along with this. Everything else be damned, for now.

“Show me then,” You word out, which only fires him up more.

Agust D’s grip on your arm is firm but not painful as he leads you down the luxurious hallway to a penthouse suite, the plush carpet muffling your footsteps. Your thoughts are a chaotic jumble, torn between the logical part of your brain screaming at you to stop and the primal part urging you to give in.

As soon as the door to a suite clicks shut behind you, he’s on you again, pushed against a wall, his lips claiming yours with a hunger that leaves you breathless. You respond in kind, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. Every touch, every kiss feels electric, igniting a fire within you that you didn’t know existed.

In the back of your mind, you know this is wrong. You know you should be resisting, should be fighting against the pull he has on you. But right now, in this moment, all you can think about is the way his hands feel on your skin, the way his lips move against yours, the way his presence consumes you.

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his breath hot against your lips. “You’re mine,” he murmurs, showcasing his possessive nature. “I refuse to let you go.”

His hands start to inch up under your dress until he reaches your core and starts flicking at your clit. You gasp, the sensation sending shockwaves through your body. He watches your reaction with a smirk, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

“Is this what you wanted?” he whispers, his voice low and teasing. “To feel me, to know that you’re mine?”

You can barely form a coherent thought, let alone a response. All you can do is nod, your body arching toward his touch, craving more.

“Good,” he says, his fingers moving with a deft precision that has you teetering on the edge. “Because I’m not stopping until you know that you belong to me.”

He continues his ministrations, his touch driving you wild with need. The logical part of your brain has long since surrendered, leaving only the raw, primal desire that burns within you.

His fingers slide below your black lace underwear until he inserts them inside you with a sly grin. You can't help but moan at the invasion, your body trembling with anticipation. He moves them in and out, hitting just the right spot, causing you to writhe beneath him.

"This is what you get," he growls, his voice low and commanding. "For. every. time. you. talked. back. to. me. today." He growls, punctuating every word with a thrust inside your pussy.

“F-Fuck A-Agust!” And holy shit does it feel so good.

As lust starts to fog your mind and the air fills with moans, you don't know what's happening to you. But you don't care. The fire inside you is burning brighter by the second, and you can't get enough of the man who's taken control of your body and mind at this moment

Yoongi places his thumb on your nub and plays with it, squishing it in circular motions, then using his finger to rub it a little faster then slowing down only to fasten the pace again. You felt a very familiar feeling boiling up in your lower belly threatening to unleash itself.

“I’m not gonna let you reach your high yet.”

Suddenly, he removes all his fingers from you and you whimper immediately, the absence of his touch leaving you desperate for more.

Yoongi bites down against his lips, eyes quickly traveling from your face and down your body, “Huh…W-Wait..P-Please…” You pant heavily, trying to rub your thighs together to pick back up the pace that was headed toward your release

“I thought you wanted to leave me, doll?” He leans in closer, chuckling in your face, and you shake your head. At this moment, you realize that he’s hard under his dress pants. “Are you sure? I don’t give orgasms to people that won’t obey me.”

“I-I’ll prove it to you!” You drop to your knees quickly, placing your hands on both of his sides. “Oh? And how will you do that?” He gives you a curious look, already knowing what to expect from your sudden submissive behavior. While he spoke, you unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, pulling it down along with his boxers to reveal his cock.

“Oh fuck…” You let out in the smallest whisper. He wasn’t long per se, but more than average. But the girth… holy shit. Will it even fit in any of your holes? And the way his precum is already pearling on his tip just from what you two did earlier? You swallow nervously, but you’re not one to back away from a challenge. “Like this.”

You hold his cock gently from the base, proceeding to gather spit from your mouth and letting it drop on it. You proceed to move your hand, spreading his precum and your saliva on his dick, managing to get a good slide and starting to move your hand quicker. You looked up innocently, already noticing a flicker of Agust’s facade fade as he felt himself slipping away in pleasure. In his mind, he was tempted to say fuck it all and let himself fuck against your hand, but he knew better than just to let himself become an animal. After the prep, you part your mouth and slowly take him in, the stretch already starting to hurt your jaw from his wide size. In the meantime, you just suck around his head and use your hand to deliver pleasure to the rest of his shaft, earning deep-sounding curses and moans while your tongue swirled around him.

His eyes are glued to you, watching you work his cock with your kitten-like licks. Though, this isn’t enough for him. He wants to thrust up down your throat so bad and fuck you until your voice was sore. He wants to see how much you’re willing to take in that small mouth of yours.

And that’s exactly what he does. He places his hand on your head, giving you small pats and rubs disguised as encouragement for your efforts. Then his hand starts inching towards the back of your head until he suddenly grabs a handful of your hair and forcibly pushes his dick further until your smacked against his pelvis.

“Seems like you still need practice. Don’t worry, I’ll train you,” he murmurs, his grip tightening on your hair as he begins to thrust into your mouth. The tip hits the back of your throat and you gag reflexively, but he doesn't let up, pushing deeper with each thrust. Your eyes start to water, now holding onto his sides for dear life, but you force yourself to take it, willing your throat to open up and accommodate his girth. His palm comes up to your cheek to rub your cheek, feeling himself on the other side enter in and out of you.

He grunts with each deep thrust, his hips pistoning in and out of your mouth as you struggle to keep up with his rhythm. You feel like you're choking, but you don't want to disappoint him and prevent you from reaching your orgasm after. However, it doesn’t take long for him to come undone, swallowing saliva and cum down your throat. He removes himself and you begin to cough erratically. You have never deep-throated before, so it’s a miracle you didn’t throw up or die from this. It’s definitely not as easy as porn makes it seem. You’ve been lied to by the media! “Haah… Holy shit…” You groan, trying to catch your breath and stabilize your heart rate.

“You alright?” He questions, voice tinged with slight worry as he fixes his pants and underwear back up and leans down towards your face. “I lost myself for a bit…”

“It’s okay–” You pause, shocked for a moment to hear your voice sound hoarse. Despite that, Agust chuckles, using his palm once again to rub against your cheek to comfort you, smiling softly. “Good girl. Now you’ll get your reward.” With this, he guides you to the master bedroom, his grip on your arms firm yet careful, leading you through the opulent suite. The room is a testament to luxury, with rich, dark wood furniture that you knew Agust requested in the hotels he invests in and soft, ambient lighting that casts a warm glow over everything. The large windows offer a stunning view of the Bangkok city skyline, but your focus is solely on him.

He pushes you gently onto the king-sized bed, the plush mattress sinking beneath your weight. The silk sheets feel cool against your skin, starkly contrasting the heat building between you. Agust D stands over you, his eyes dark with desire, a predator savoring his prey.

He slowly removes his jacket, his movements deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours. You watch, your breath hitching as he unbuttons his suit vest, followed by his shirt, revealing his semi-muscular and beefy figure beneath. You’ve never seen him like this before, as he’s a very reserved man when it comes to his body. But each inch of exposed skin sends a fresh wave of anticipation through you.

“You’ve been so good,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Now, let me take care of you.”

He climbs onto the bed, sitting between your legs where his hands start trailing up your thighs, pushing the hem of your dress higher. His touch is electrifying, each caress igniting a fire in your core. He leans down, his lips ghosting over your skin, leaving a trail of burning kisses from your collarbone to your ear.

His breath is hot against your ear as he whispers, “Tell me you want this.”

“I want this,” you breathe, your voice trembling with need.

“Good,” he says, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. “Because once I start, I won’t be able to get enough of you.”

His hands are everywhere, exploring, teasing, and driving you to the brink of madness. He slips the dress off your shoulders, letting it fall away completely, leaving your body exposed and vulnerable beneath him. His eyes rake over your body, a dark hunger in his gaze.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “My doll.”

He lowers himself, his mouth finding your breast, sucking and nibbling until you’re arching into him, your fingers tangled in his slick black hair. He trails kisses down your stomach, his hands gripping your hips as he positions himself between your legs.

You gasp as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, his breath hot against your skin. “Ready for your reward?” he asks, his voice a seductive whisper.

“Mm..” You only make a sound and nod due to the lust clouding your mind. How do you say words? Do words matter?

He pinches your clit slightly which makes you jump and arc your body a little.

“Words, doll.”

“Y-Yes!” you manage to finally speak out, your body wiggling around close to his face eager for him to move.

He doesn’t hesitate after your verbal consent, his tongue flicking out to taste you from your clit down to your entrance, drawing a cry of pleasure from your lips. He works you expertly, starting with his tongue sucking against your clit, then eating you out in your entrance.

And holy fuck does he have you wrapped around his finger with these ministrations. You had heard rumors of him being good at oral sex from the women at the events you would accompany him to, but fuck, the actual thing doesn’t compare to their mere descriptions.

His tongue soon returns to nibble and suck at your aching bud, with his fingers replacing his place inside you. And before you know it, you’re lost in the sensation again, body jerking as every nerve ending is set aflame as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

And Agust D knows it, smirking against your pussy as he feels you tighten against his fingers. “Come for me,” he growls against your skin, his voice a command that you can’t resist.

With a final, shuddering gasp, you fall apart, the pleasure crashing over you in waves. He holds you through it, his hands and mouth coaxing every last bit of ecstasy from your body until you’re left trembling and spent beneath him.

He pulls back, his eyes dark with satisfaction as he watches you recover. “Such a fucking good girl,” he murmurs, his voice filled with pride. “But we’re not done.”

He stands up and swiftly pulls down his pants and boxers, revealing his cock, red and eager. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight, your mind racing.

Oh? Is he going to put it in?!

“Huh? W-Wait you–”

Before you can finish speaking, he puts your legs on his shoulder and aligns himself to your entrance, his eyes locking with yours. The heat and intensity of his gaze make your heart race.

“You’re on birth control, correct?”

“Yes…”

You’d be surprised that he knows this fact, but he does look over your medical records after all. You’d also question the ethics of this, but not now.

“Then we can go all out,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire. “And I’ll show you that you’re truly mine.”

He pushes into you, his cock stretching and filling you completely.

“F-Fuck!” You gasp, the sensation is overwhelming, fueled with pleasure and pain that leaves you breathless. He pauses movements for a moment, allowing you to adjust, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

Your eyes close as you try to focus on relaxing your body.

“Look at me,” he commands suddenly, his voice low and firm as he holds your chin. “I want to see your face when I take you.”

“Y-Yes, sir!” You meet his gaze, your eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement. There’s a primal hunger in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine.

He begins to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, each one sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you try to keep up with the intensity of his pace. The feeling of him inside you is overwhelming and does not compare to his or your own fingers pleasuring you.

“Do you feel that?” he asks, his voice a rough whisper. “Do you feel how your pussy is being molded by my cock?”

“Y-Yes!” you manage to gasp, your voice trembling. “I feel it!”

“Good,” he says, his thrusts becoming faster, more intense. “Because you won’t ever be able to be pleased by another cock as long as I live,”

His movements are relentless, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. The room is filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, the slap of skin against skin, and the ragged gasps and moans that escape your lips.

As your eyes meet his, he suddenly wraps his hand around your neck, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. His grip is firm but not painful, sending a rush of adrenaline and arousal coursing through your veins.

“Doll, you like being choked while I fuck you? Having you wrapped around my fingers now.”

“F-Feels so mmh good!” You mumble, your breath hitching as his grip tightens slightly, the sensation heightening the pleasure coursing through your body.

You never thought you’d be so turned on by choking. You don’t know if it’s you getting high off the lack of oxygen and feeling pleasure, or giving up your life’s control to this man before you that has your toes curling.

The pleasure builds up to an unbearable peak once more, but this time, you know that he is feeling the same thing too. His thrusts become harder, more forceful, each one sending shockwaves through your body. His hand on your neck adds an edge to the sensation od dominance and possessiveness that leaves you breathless.

“Come for me, doll,” he growls, his voice a command that you can’t ignore. “I want to feel you come around me as I do at the same time.”

With a final, shuddering cry, your orgasm crashes down, your body convulsing in pleasure. He follows you soon after, his grip on your hips tightening as he spills into you, his own release mingling with yours. The intensity of the moment leaves you both breathless, clinging to each other as the aftershocks of pleasure ripple through your bodies.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark and satisfied as he looks down at you with a smile that exposes his gums. He lays down next to you and pulls you into his arms, his lips finding yours in a tender, possessive kiss.

“You’re mine,” he whispers against your lips, the words a promise and a declaration.

“You’re mine,” he repeats. “I’ll never let you leave.”

At that moment, as you lie there in his arms, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you don’t want him to. The world outside may be complicated and uncertain, but here, with him, everything feels right.

This is your home.

All you want is for this man to be infatuated with you for the rest of your life.

This is how things should be. Right?

–

– tbc?

✨ let me know ur thoughts! how are you feeling?! ✉️

#AGUSTDVERSE #Prequel #bts fic #bts imagines #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi fic #yoongi smut #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #yoongi angst #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts reactions #bts reader insert #haegeum #agust d #THE WORLD IS BACK!

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sweetcarrotsandroses97 · 3 months ago

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The Anatomy Of Sacrifice |JJK| Teaser

Pairing: Doctor! Jungkook x Assistant! Fem! Reader

The world knew Dr. Jeon Jungkook as a genius—a surgeon, a scientist, a man who defied nature in his pursuit of saving the one woman he loved. But behind the walls of his grand estate, another story unfolded—a story of sacrifice, of silent devotion, of a woman who gave everything for a man who never saw her.

"I need more time to work on this sample. Take Ji-hoon to his fencing practice today."

"Yes, sir."

You had always known your place. The loyal assistant. The quiet observer. The woman who cleaned up after his brilliance, who followed his orders in a heartbeat, without question whatsoever.

"You have a son who needs his father, Jungkook. Please, you must abandon this madness or Ji-hoon will end up alone!"

"I cannot give up now! Don't you see? I am so close to get her back, I cannot -will not- give up on my wife."

Jungkook watered a dried flower, not knowing he had a full garden waiting for him outside of his world that became the memories of her. And you became his confidant, his most trusted subordinate. Unaware that your admiration for him shifted to a profound tenderness, a feeling you didn't know how to control.

"Since the moment I met you, I knew I would do anything for you."

"Even if it may cost you your life, (y/n)?"

"Anything, Jungkook."

All it took was a mistake. A decision you made or rather met. And now, the clock was ticking. Was there a cure for a broken heart? For lost hope? For misplaced trust?

All because you loved too fiercely, because Jungkook dreamed too greedily. And your life became a battle of body and heart, dancing in the anatomy of your sacrifice.

Want to be tagged? Let me know!

January/28/2025

#the anatomy of sacrifice #jungkook #jungkook x reader #sweetcarrotsandroses97 #bts #bts fanfic #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fic #jeon jeongguk #bts x reader #reader insert #clean romance #unrequited love #miraculous ladybug #gabriel x nathalie

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armpirate · 5 months ago

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Unspoken || Jungkook

pairing: Soldier!JK x fem!reader || Boyfriend's friend

w.c.: 9.3k

Warnings: smut, cheating, dirty talk, male masturbation, unprotected sex, teasing (Minors DNI! Refrain from reading if you're not +18, and ignore if you don't like this type of content)

Aprox. time of reading: 42 minutes

Summary: You thought you had a happy relationship with your boyfriend, you were convinced nothing would ever come between you two. At least until you first met Jungkook, Mingyu's friend and base partner, for a holiday break. His pull toward you was immediate, but also forbidden. Neither of you needed to express how you felt about each other, your attraction was unspoken. Although it'd only get out of control the second you both confessed how you felt about each other.

MASTERLIST

Jungkook leaned back against the passenger seat, the low hum of the car engine blending with the soft playlist his colleague, Mingyu, had playing on the stereo. It was a rare break from the structured chaos of military life, and Jungkook still wasn't quite sure how he'd ended up accepting Mingyu's invitation to spend the holidays at his place.

"You're gonna love it," Mingyu had said, grinning as he threw a duffel bag into the trunk of his car earlier that morning. "Y/n makes the best holiday food, and the vibe's just... different. You'll see."

"Thanks again for inviting me" Jungkook said now, glancing over at Mingyu, whose focus was split between the road and his casual commentary about how cold it always got in their hometown during the holidays.

"No problem. Can't have you stuck at the base during break, eating pre-packaged trash. And besides, Y/n's been wanting to meet you forever. She loves hearing my stories about how I carried your butt during training," Mingyu teased.

Jungkook snorted, rolling his eyes. "Carried me? Right. You couldn't even..."

Mingyu's laughter cut him off, the kind that made it hard not to smile along. Despite their constant banter, Jungkook had always appreciated Mingyu's warmth. It was one of the things that had made him such a good friend, both on and off duty.

The car pulled up to a modest but inviting house tucked behind a line of bare trees, its porch lit with soft golden lights. Jungkook stepped out, his boots crunching against the icy driveway as he stretched. His breath curled into the cold air, and for a moment, he let himself soak in the quiet that only winter seemed to bring.

Jungkook followed him inside, shaking off the chill. The warmth of the house hit him immediately, carrying with it the smell of cinnamon and pine. He stepped into the living room, his gaze moving over the soft, glowing decorations scattered across shelves and windows. Then his eyes landed on you.

You weren't quite sure when your boyfriend would show up, but you were dying to see him. Despite how cold it was outside, you managed to put on his favorite outfit: a pair of shorts that barely cupped your ass and a thin top that he had always managed to take off easily.

The click of the door, heard from your room, almost had you jumping in excitement in your place, biting your lip before you finally chose to walk downstairs to meet him.

You were expecting your boyfriend, but not the man who was behind him. Mingyu was quite big, but those doe-eyed man's shoulders managed to oversize your boyfriend's.

Jungkook barely registered Mingyu's playful retort because, for a second, it felt like time had slowed. You were stunning, not just in the way you carried yourself, but in the ease of your smile and the warmth in your dark eyes. You weren't what Jungkook had expected, though he wasn't sure what he had expected. It wasn't like he actually had bothered to imagine you.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming with someone?" it was your first question as you walked downstairs, closing the gap to slap your boyfriend's arm.

"It'd be better if I leave" Jungkook got cut off by you, big eyes looking at him over Mingyu's shoulder.

"No, I didn't mean that" you sighed. "It's just... this dickhead should've told me first. I'm Y/n".

"I know" he smiled, quickly nodding. "You're everything he talks about in the base".

And now Jungkook knew why.

"Let me guess... Jungkook?" you pointed at him, looking unsure, but at the same time knowing you were about to give the right answer.

"You got it right".

Your laugh was soft, but it resonated. "It's nice to finally meet you, Jungkook," you said, extending a hand.

Jungkook shook it, his palm warm against yours, while he noticed the distance you had built. Maybe it was that he just wanted to feel you closer, while you were keeping the safety of each other's personal space.

"Nice to meet you, too," he said, his voice steady even as something in his chest stirred.

He told himself it was just nerves. Or maybe the exhaustion from months of routine, of walls and regulations. Whatever it was, he ignored it.

You were Mingyu's.

And Jungkook had no intention of complicating that.

But as the evening unfolded and conversation flowed freely between the three of you, he couldn't shake the strange pull he felt toward you. Every laugh you shared, every subtle gesture, seemed to light something within him. It was subtle, unspoken, but undeniably there.

Jungkook had told himself, over and over, throughout the months he dragged after knowing you that it was just a fleeting crush, a strange little inconvenience brought on by proximity and circumstance. But the more time passed, the more he realized he was lying to himself.

It didn't help that you weren't the kind of woman he could ignore. Every time Mingyu mentioned you in passing, with his face lighting up with affection, it made something twist uncomfortably in Jungkook's chest. He hated the feeling. Hated that his mind lingered on stolen glances and shared laughter from the few times he had seen you.

It was getting worse, though. Much worse.

You visited the base once, just over a month after the holidays, surprising Mingyu with homemade snacks and your bright, warm presence that seemed to brighten the cold halls of their quarters. Jungkook hadn't known you were coming, but the moment your laughter echoed down the hallway, he knew.

He was mid-conversation with another soldier when you appeared, walking beside Mingyu with a radiant smile and a bag slung over your shoulder. You looked out of place in the best way, soft in a world of hard lines and camouflage.

"Jungkook!" you called out when you spotted him, your hand lifting in a small wave.

He froze for a moment, the sound of your voice cutting through everything else. Forcing a smile, he raised a hand in return, his stomach twisting into a knot as you approached. He didn't expect you there, and even less looking so bright with that short flowing dress that stopped mid-thigh.

He needed you to hug him to finally realize he wasn't going crazy with his own thoughts.

"I didn't know you'd be here today," he said, his voice steady even as he fought to keep his expression neutral, stepping back to look you in the eyes.

"Surprise!" you beamed. "I couldn't let Mingyu go too long without something sweet to snack on. And I packed extra for you, too. Thought you might appreciate it."

Your kindness was as effortless as it was genuine. That was the worst part. You weren't trying to make his heart race or send him spiraling into feelings he didn't want. You were just... you.

"Thanks," Jungkook murmured, taking the small package you handed him. Your fingers brushed briefly, and he cursed the way his pulse quickened.

Mingyu, oblivious as always, grinned at the interaction. "See? Told you she's the best. You don't know how lucky I am"

Jungkook's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah," he said quietly, his gaze flicking to you, who was already chatting with another soldier nearby. "You're really lucky."

The rest of your visit was a blur of polite small talk and stolen glances that Jungkook wished he could erase from his memory. When you finally left, Mingyu was grinning from ear to ear, talking about you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded in the chaos of military life.

And Jungkook?

Jungkook felt like he was losing a battle he couldn't even admit he was fighting.

Each passing week only made it harder to ignore. Every time he caught himself thinking about you, he'd push the thoughts away, burying them under layers of duty and loyalty. But they always came back, stronger and more insistent, until it felt like he was carrying a weight he couldn't shake.

And the worst part was knowing he couldn't do anything about it.

If he thought it was going to be a temporary crush, he couldn't be more wrong. And what made the least sense for him was the way it kept growing bigger with the little he actually saw you. But hell, the little he saw you was enough to have a huge impact on his system and the way his brain worked to be wrapped around you.

If you wore a new gloss, it was enough for him to keep thinking about the way it'd taste on your lips if he kissed you. If you did something new to your hair, he kept coming up with ways of brushing the few strands that escaped your hairstyle and getting you to smile shyly. And the most simple thoughts turned into the most primitive when he was alone in his room, reminiscing of how your clothes always looked good on you. It only made him wonder how good what was underneath would look.

You were a nightmare and a dream at the same time. Something he couldn't reach, but something he couldn't escape either.

He needed it to get it to stop.

That was why he agreed when you came up with a blind date for him. Jungkook knew he should've said no the moment you brought it up, but his desperation to get you out of his head was bigger than his common sense.

"I have this friend," you had said, your eyes lighting up with the enthusiasm that always made his heart skip a beat. "She's sweet, funny, and gorgeous. I think you two would really hit it off!"

He'd tried to decline politely, but you had a way of being insistent without overstepping. Before he knew it, he was sitting in a crowded cinema on a Friday night with someone he barely knew while you and Mingyu sat right next to them.

His date, Hana, was nice enough, chatty and kind, exactly as you had described. But Jungkook couldn't focus. Every smile she gave him, every laugh they shared over popcorn, felt hollow. His mind was elsewhere, drifting back to the woman who had orchestrated this evening in the first place, the same woman who was sitting at his left, oblivious of how crazy you drove him.

The lights dimmed, signaling the start of the movie, and the theater fell into a hushed silence. Jungkook shifted in his seat, trying to settle his restless thoughts, but the more he tried to focus on the screen, the harder it became.

It didn't help that your voice still lingered in his head, your laugh from earlier in the night replaying over and over.

He wasn't even aware of what he was doing at first. It was an unconscious movement he didn't quite control. His hand, resting on the armrest, slipped lower, brushing against your skirt where it met your thigh. It was an innocent gesture at first, or at least, he told himself it was. But as his fingers pressed just a fraction further, he felt the warmth of your skin, the soft fabric of your dress.

His breath hitched.

You tensed beside him, turning slightly. "Jungkook?" you whispered, your tone more confused than alarmed.

Realizing what he'd done, he immediately withdrew his hand, his heart pounding. "Sorry," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the sound of the movie. "I... hmm... I didn't mean to. It was an accident."

You offered a small, uncertain smile, brushing it off with a light shrug. "It's fine," you whispered back, your focus returning to the screen.

But Jungkook couldn't move past it. His stomach churned, guilt and shame twisting inside him. He hadn't mistaken you for Hana, not in the physical sense, at least. But in the darkness of the theater, his mind had wandered, and for a fleeting, selfish moment, he'd let his emotions take over.

He spent the rest of the movie barely moving, his body rigid as he counted down the minutes until the credits rolled. When the lights came up, you seemed as sweet and nice as always, as if that moment hadn't meant anything for you.

But Jungkook couldn't shake the weight of what had happened, or the realization that he was spiraling into feelings he had no business indulging.

Your concern for his happiness, your effort to set him up with someone, had only made things worse. You saw him as a friend, nothing more. And yet, his own desires had betrayed not only his loyalty to Mingyu but the respect he'd tried to maintain for you yourself.

As you exited the theater and Mingyu teased him about the "cute couple" they made, Jungkook forced a laugh, but inside, he felt like he was crumbling.

Something had to change.

Because if he didn't find a way to stop this, he knew it would destroy him, and everything he valued most.

Those were the only thoughts in his head while he stared at the ceiling that same night, trying to know what was the best way to put a solution to everything going on. Maybe it was time for him to stop his friendship with Mingyu and free himself from the pain and the trouble.

A sound broke through the silence. It wasn't loud, it was obvious he wasn't supposed to hear it, but it was followed by another sound that was heard clearer the second time. Your moans were soft and cautious, almost as if coming from the back of your throat by how hard you tried to keep them to yourself.

But he heard. Of course he heard it.

Jungkook didn't know when he disconnected, or more like when he allowed his brain to come up with images of you. But when he realized it was way too late and he liked it too much to stop it.

His fingers were closed around himself under the blankets, his eyes closed and his lips parted as the thought of him being the one getting those sounds out of you started being more powerful. Not only powerful, it was so vivid he could almost feel his digits pressing on your flesh to keep you in place, your warm breath on his neck while your fingers played with his hair. He twitched on the spot when he replaced the emptiness of his hand with warmth inside you. He was sure you'd take him well, knowing he was meant to be pounding into you instead of rubbing against his palm. He also knew he could make those moans sound louder, making you unable to control yourself, no matter who was in the next room. You'd be loud and desperate for him to let you reach your orgasm. He could even hear your whimpers against his ear, with your thin breath coating his lobe. Your nails would drag down his spine and your legs would close tight around his waist, because he knew you probably were the type to get so blinded by pleasure that you had no control over your body.

All of his muscles tensed when he pictured you reaching the climax, his toes almost curling by pleasure while he had to gulp the groan that almost interrupted your prolonged moan when you came, not wanting to cut how good you sounded.

If you ever said his name with that same needy tone, he knew he'd cum at the first letter you pronounced.

Reality hit him again when he blinked in the darkness, realizing he fell back again into the same course he promised he wouldn't follow a few weeks back. Without making a sound, he got out of his room to clean himself up.

Right when he was just coming out of the bathroom, you were walking through the corridor, coming back from the stairs. Your cheeks were a pale read, your eyes big and still dark, your hair messy, but that same friendly smile remained.

"How was the date? Did you like Hana?" your eyebrows raised with curiosity. "She's nice, right?"

But Jungkook didn't care about how nice Hana was. He didn't care whether they'd make a cute couple or not, because the only thing in his head at that moment was the idea of you asking that because you were minimally jealous, and not because you were genuinely hoping something would come out of that blind date.

"I... I don't think so" Jungkook grimaced, avoiding your eyes.

"Aw really?" you almost pouted. "Why not?"

It was his chance, or so he thought. For once he didn't let his consciousness get in between what he wanted, he didn't allow caution to stop him from taking the chance you were offering.

He pulled you in the bathroom, closing the door right behind you before cornering you against it. You couldn't help but hear your heartbeat against your eardrums, slowly taking you away from reality, leaving you deaf to anything that wasn't Jungkook's voice.

"If I tell you 'why not', I'm afraid we'll have a big problem" he admitted, his hand slowly raising up to your head level.

Your tongue moved through your lips, but it stayed as dry while his eyes pushed you to do the craziest things that came to mind "Jungkook, I..."

"Don't say my name" he cut you off. "Don't say my name or I'll lose control of myself, and I promise you there will be no turning back".

What were you supposed to say? No words were able to come out of your lips. What was he expecting you to say?

"I didn't like Hana because I kept thinking how your lips would still taste sweet, even after the popcorn you were eating. I didn't get confused and touch you when I wanted to touch Hana. I wanted to touch you, at least know what it felt like. I'm going crazier every day for you, and I don't know how much I'll take it".

"I'm with Mingyu" you confronted.

You used those words, hoping they'd work for Jungkook the same way they worked for you. But they had no effect on him.

Your sentence seemed like a lame excuse to stop yourself. It wasn't a straight 'no' because you were sure of your decision. It was a weak excuse to get to know whether that mattered to him as little as it started to matter for you since you first met Jungkook.

"I know" he scoffed, "of course I know" his head tilted to the side, his eyes narrowing. "You have no idea how bad I wanted to be in his place tonight. Just the thought of having you around me has kept me satisfied for a while, but tonight... Fuck, tonight I realized how much I need that to stop being a thought and be a reality".

You hated the way your body reacted to his words, but you hated even more how he didn't need those words to make you feel the way you did.

"I..." you were so close to succumbing, so close to ruin it all. "No".

It was the only word you could pronounce, the only word that wouldn't hint at how indecisive you actually were and wouldn't expose your shaky and unsure tone before you pushed him away.

It would be a mistake. A big one. And you couldn't do that to Mingyu, not to yourself. You were better than all that.

Your heart stopped when he paused your steps before you could reach the door to your room, forcing you to turn around and face him, before you were back against a wall.

Jungkook was aware of the way you looked at him before you stepped out of the bathroom, and seeing you under Mingyu's t-shirt pushed him to fire the last bullet. The only thought was how possessive he felt of you when he noticed you were wearing his military t-shirt, another detail reminding him you weren't his.

He would regret it the next day but, at least, it was something he'd get out of his chest.

He kissed you.

His hands were cupping your cheeks while his lips moved slowly on yours. For a moment, that was the only thing that mattered. It wasn't the way you both knew each other, or the circumstances... you could only feel him.

Your fingers tugged on his t-shirt on his waist, too unsure to pull him closer, but too needy to let go. His lips felt different, like he was familiar with you despite not kissing you before. He treated you with such care while showing off how much he craved you, that you thought it couldn't be real.

You gasped when his tongue slid through your lips, finding yours, barely touching before you broke the kiss again after hearing your boyfriend calling you from inside the room.

You felt so guilty because of how much you liked it, and you also felt guilty because you couldn't give Jungkook what he wanted.

What had you done?

He knew, by the way you looked at him as you walked back to the room, that there was no point in trying, because Mingyu would always be your choice.

The airport was buzzing with life, a constant ebb and flow of people coming and going. You stood just outside the arrival gate, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, as if the gesture alone could shield you from the nervousness to take a toll on your sanity.

You didn't want to be there. At least, that's what you kept telling yourself.

When Mingyu had asked you to pick Jungkook up, the instinctive response had been a hard no. But you'd hesitated, your heart betraying your mind. You hadn't seen him in weeks, not since that night, when everything got out of control between you two.

Actually, he set a whole ocean in between you when he left for a special mission in another country. Yet, that distance only made him more present in your life. Your head could only wonder whether he was alright, because whenever you asked Mingyu, he never had enough information that could help you to go on.

During those moments, you regretted only kissing him once.

The memory was still vivid, a flash of heat and regret tangled together in a kiss that should never have happened. He'd kissed you as if he'd been holding back for far too long, and the way your body had responded, the way your heart had raced, made it all more dangerous, because you couldn't remember reacting that same way with your boyfriend -not even when you started dating.

But you had returned to him that same night, guilt pressing heavy on your chest, and Jungkook had pulled away, physically, emotionally, entirely.

The distance he'd created had been suffocating. You'd told yourself it was for the best, that you two needed it. And yet, when Mingyu asked you to help out this once, your excuses had faltered.

Deep down, you wanted to see him.

And as much as you hated to admit it, you suspected Jungkook felt the same.

Your thoughts scattered when the sliding doors opened, and Jungkook emerged, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. His dark hair was tousled from the long flight, his jaw set with the faintest tension, but his eyes softened the moment they landed on you.

"Y/n," he greeted, his voice low, almost hesitant.

"Jungkook," you replied, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The hum of the airport surrounded you, but it felt distant, like you were suspended in your own little bubble of awkward silence and unresolved tension.

"You didn't have to come," he finally said, shifting the bag higher on his shoulder.

"Mingyu asked me to," you said, your tone sharper than you intended.

It was an excuse that you didn't believe yourself.

Your boyfriend asked you to, but you could've said no. You could've used work as an excuse not to be there, and you knew your boyfriend would've taken it.

You sighed, your posture relaxing slightly. "But... I didn't mind."

That last part slipped out before you could stop it, and Jungkook's eyes flickered with something you couldn't quite place. Relief, hope... you didn't know, but it was positive.

"Let's go," you added quickly, turning on your heel and heading toward the exit.

The walk to the car was quiet, the tension between you palpable. You unlocked the doors, and both climbed in, the faint smell of pine from your air freshener filling the silence.

"How has it been?" you managed to ask.

He grimaced, his expression unsure while he twitched on his seat "It was... okay. Let's say the noise these few weeks have kept me distracted. Some thoughts are way louder and disturbing" he admitted, his tattooed arm resting next to the window.

It didn't take much for you to know what he was hinting at. Any hopes you had to be able to ignore what happened between you two, vanished when he confessed he felt as disturbed as you did.

As you pulled out of the parking lot, the words you'd been holding back tumbled out. "Why did you do it?"

Jungkook turned to you, his expression unreadable. "Do what?"

"You know what," you said, gripping the wheel tightly. "The kiss. Why did you kiss me?"

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Because I couldn't keep pretending," he admitted quietly. "I couldn't keep acting like I didn't feel something for you. Like I didn't..." he trailed off, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "I don't know what happened that night, but I felt like I needed to do it. After so much time, it just felt right".

Your chest tightened. You didn't know what you'd expected, but his honesty left you breathless.

"You didn't say anything after," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I thought it was better that way," he replied. "You went back to Mingyu, and I knew I had no right to... to want anything more. That's why I volunteered for this new mission. It was better than staying here."

Your grip on the wheel faltered for a moment, your emotions threatening to overwhelm you. You swallowed hard, focusing on the road.

"So you don't regret it?" you managed to ask.

"Do you?" he questioned immediately after, eyes narrowing while trying to read through your body language.

A scoff introduced your reply before you spoke "I asked first".

"No".

The car fell silent again, but this time, the quiet wasn't as heavy. There was something unspoken between you, something you both knew couldn't be resolved in one drive.

The ride had grown quieter, but the tension between you buzzed like static in the air. You couldn't focus, your hands gripping the steering wheel as your thoughts ran in circles around Jungkook's answer.

It lingered in your mind, stirring emotions you weren't sure you were ready to face.

Did you actually regret that kiss?

When you reached the mall parking lot, a stop you'd insisted on under the guise of needing to grab something, you parked the car and let out a long breath.

"You don't have to come in," you said, your voice clipped.

"I don't mind," Jungkook replied casually, already unbuckling his seatbelt.

Of course he wouldn't stay in the car. He would never make things easy for you.

The two of you walked through the glass doors of the mall, the buzz of activity offering a welcome distraction. You kept your focus on the shops ahead, determined to ignore the way Jungkook's presence seemed to fill the space beside you.

"What do you need here?" he asked, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets as you strolled past storefronts.

"Just... something for Mingyu," you lied, thinking that bringing up his name would work as a stop for the two of you

"Hmm," he hummed while nodding slowly, his tone unreadable.

You stopped in front of a small boutique, pretending to be interested in the display of watches in the window. But your focus shattered when you felt Jungkook lean in, his voice low near your ear, the warmth of his chest almost hitting your back.

"Why are you avoiding looking at me?"

Your breath hitched, and you stepped back, glaring at him. "I'm not avoiding you."

His lips curved into the faintest smirk, one that sent a shiver down your spine. "You are," he said simply.

You rolled your eyes and turned toward the entrance of the store, but before you could take another step, Jungkook caught your wrist.

"Y/n," he said, his voice softer now, but no less intense.

You turned reluctantly to face him, your heart pounding. Thinking you'd look stronger, you ended up feeling smaller.

"What?" you snapped, though the bite in your voice was weak.

His dark eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, you forgot where you were. The bustling mall around you faded, leaving just the two of you in the small pocket of space they occupied.

"I'm going to make you want me," Jungkook said, his tone calm but resolute.

"W... What?"

"These days I've been away... I made the decision that I wouldn't give up on you" he confessed. "I tried, but it didn't work out, because I know you want me as much as I want you, you just need something to help you realize".

Your lips parted, a mix of shock and defiance flashing across your face. "Jungkook, stop."

"I mean it," he continued, stepping just close enough to make your breath catch. "You can keep pretending this doesn't exist, but you feel it just as much as I do."

Your pulse quickened, heat rising to your cheeks. You wanted to deny it, to push him away, but the words wouldn't come.

"Fuck, I want to kiss you so bad... But I'll let you be the one taking the lead the next time".

"I'm with Mingyu," you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

It didn't stop sounding like a momentary stop, instead of a determined rejection. It was an excuse that kept giving him hints on how you felt. Not by the words, but the tone and weak look in your eyes.

"And I hate that I'm saying this while you are," he admitted, his gaze softening. "But it doesn't change how I feel. And I know it doesn't change how you feel."

Your heart twisted painfully at his words. "You don't know how I feel."

"You're right, I don't" he countered, his tone firm. "But one thing for sure: you were waiting for that kiss as much as I did. You keep waiting for me to kiss you, I bet you're dying for me to do it right now" he continued. "Next time we kiss though... I doubt I'll be able to go on with just that".

You shook your head, breaking eye contact as you turned away. "Don't waste your time. Nothing is going to happen"

He didn't follow you this time, letting you walk ahead into the store. But as you browsed aimlessly, his words echoed in your mind, each one carving deeper into the walls you'd tried to build between you two.

It wasn't simple. It never could be.

The party was alive with music and chatter, the kind of event where everyone seemed carefree, wrapped up in their own little bubbles of fun, laughs and alcohol. You, however, felt far from carefree.

You stood at the edge of the dance floor with Mingyu, his arm draped possessively over your shoulder as he laughed at something one of his friends said. You tried to smile, to play the role of the attentive girlfriend, but your mind was elsewhere, fixated on the man standing across the room.

Jungkook.

He looked effortlessly handsome in his black button-up, the top few buttons undone to reveal just enough of his tanned skin to make heads turn. He leaned casually against the bar, a drink in his hand, his gaze flicking toward you every so often. You tried not to look at him, but the pull was magnetic, impossible to resist.

It was as if having him so far from you only helped to pull you closer. And that was what happened the whole night. Jungkook didn't walk around you, even Mingyu was surprised by the distance he had settled, although he shrugged it off thinking his friend was just out to get on with someone.

If he only knew...

The tension between you two had been unbearable ever since the airport.Thinking it couldn't get any worse than the day after your first kiss, you were proved wrong. The unresolved words, the unspoken confessions... they lingered like ghosts in every glance you shared. And tonight, it felt as though the air crackled with it, threatening to ignite at any moment.

You adjusted the hem of your dress, a sleek black number that clung to your figure in all the right places. You thought it was Mingyu's gift when it arrived at your apartment, complete with a note that read, Can't wait to take it off tonight.

But when you'd mentioned it to him earlier, Mingyu had laughed. "I can't wait to take off any clothes you're wearing, to be honest. But, especially, this new dress. You have such a good taste" he'd said casually.

It was then you realized.

The handwriting on the note wasn't Mingyu's, but it wasn't like you cared enough to realize. You wanted it so bad to be your boyfriend's, that you ignored all the details.

The realization had sent a ripple of unease through you, but it wasn't enough to stop you from wearing it.

Jungkook's gaze darkened every time it landed on you, his jaw clenching as he watched you laugh at something Mingyu whispered in your ear. You weren't immune to his jealousy, but instead of feeling guilty, it fueled something in you, a twisted desire to test his limits.

So when Mingyu kissed you, you let him.

The kiss was long and slow, a public display that left no room for doubt about your relationship. Your hands trailed up Mingyu's chest, and though your mind wasn't fully in the moment, you didn't stop yourself. Even your boyfriend was surprised by how touchy you were being.

When you dared to peek through half-lidded eyes, you saw Jungkook. His knuckles whitened around his glass before he abruptly turned away.

It was petty, and you knew it. But it didn't stop you from feeling a small, vindictive thrill.

Jungkook didn't stay by the bar for long. When you glanced over again, he was on the dance floor, a striking brunette by his side. She was tall, confident, her hand sliding along his chest as she leaned in to whisper something in his ear.

Your stomach twisted, the sight of them together setting your nerves on fire. You tried to ignore it, tried to focus on Mingyu and the party, but your eyes betrayed you, following Jungkook as he danced with the woman.

He didn't look at you, not once. It was as if he'd decided to pretend you didn't exist.

And yet, every move he made felt deliberate. The way he leaned into the brunette's touch, the way he let her lips graze his ear, all of it was meant to taunt you.

It was working.

You felt a sharp pang of jealousy that you couldn't suppress, your grip tightening around your drink. Mingyu noticed, pulling your attention back to him with a soft smile.

"You okay?" he asked, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just a little warm in here."

Mingyu didn't seem convinced, but he let it go, turning back to his conversation.

You, however, couldn't let it go. Your gaze found Jungkook again, and this time, he was looking back. Your eyes locked, and for a moment, the rest of the room seemed to fade away.

His expression was unreadable, but his message was clear.

Two can play this game.

Your heart pounded, and you hated the way it thrilled you. The way his attention, whether born of anger or jealousy, still managed to consume you entirely.

The game was far from over, but you weren't sure who would come out the winner, or if winning even mattered anymore.

The pounding bass of the music reverberated through the walls, muffled and distant in the small confines of the bathroom. You leaned against the sink, your reflection staring back at you in the mirror. Your lipstick was still flawless, your dress clinging to you like a second skin.

You should've felt guilty for what you were about to do. You really should've.

But the fire in your chest, the jealousy that had flared every time you saw him with that brunette on the dance floor, had burned through your restraint.

The door clicked open behind you, and you didn't need to turn around to know who it was. His presence filled the room before he even said a word. You didn't let him take one step forward when you pushed him back inside the bathroom, closing the door behind you two.

"You shouldn't be in here," Jungkook said, his voice low, his tone carrying that familiar edge of frustration.

"So, do you want me to leave?" you replied, turning to face him with a small, taunting smile.

He looked at you, his dark eyes searching, confused by your calm demeanor. His hands were still stuffed in his pockets, his posture stiff as he leaned back against the closed door.

"You've been playing games all night," you said, taking a slow step toward him. "Dancing with her. Ignoring me. Acting like you don't care when we both know you do."

Jungkook's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond.

You took another step, the sound of your heels clicking against the tile floor. "You said you'd make me want you," you murmured, stopping just inches from him. "So why aren't you trying harder?"

He exhaled sharply, his gaze dropping to your lips before flicking back up. "Didn't you tell me to leave you alone?"

"Right after I told you, you said you'd make sure I wanted you" your head tilted, the tip of your fingers gently brushing against the exposed tattoos on his arm.

"You don't know what you're asking for"

"Don't I?" you asked, tilting your head. Your fingers trailed up his chest, over the smooth fabric of his shirt, until they rested just over his racing heartbeat.

His hand shot up, catching your wrist, but he didn't push you away. Instead, his grip tightened, as if he were holding on for dear life.

"You seem to be a little too much into what I'm doing" he snapped back at you, though his voice lacked the confidence.

"Don't come up with that" you countered, your lips curving into a sly smile. "Don't act like you haven't been looking at me, dying to touch me all night."

The tension snapped like a live wire.

Jungkook let go of your wrist, only to grab your waist, pulling your flush against him. "You're really pushing me, Y/n," he said through gritted teeth, his breath warm against your face.

"Maybe I want to see how far you'll go," you whispered, your fingers curling into his shirt.

His resolve crumbled in an instant.

Your lips crashed together, the kiss hungry and frenzied, months of pent-up desire pouring out in every movement. His hands roamed your body, gripping your hips, sliding down the curve of your back as if he couldn't get enough.

You matched his intensity, your hands tangling in his hair as you pressed closer, your back hitting the door when he made the both of you turn. The cool wood contrasted with the heat of his touch, sending shivers down your spine.

"You're going to regret this," Jungkook murmured against your lips, though his actions said otherwise.

"Then give me something to regret," you shot back, your voice breathless.

For a moment, time ceased to exist. There was only the sound of your breathing, the faint thrum of music beyond the door, and the way you fit together, like two pieces of a puzzle that had been waiting far too long to connect.

His smirk only disappeared when he kissed you back again, pressing his body against yours, not wanting to let a single centimeter ruin the experience of feeling you against his body. It was like his dreams were coming true whenever your fingertips brushed the back of his hair every time your tongues touched.

But reality was never far behind.

A loud knock on the door startled you both, and you pulled back, your chest heaving. Jungkook's forehead rested against yours, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath.

"Occupied!" he called out, his voice rough.

You laughed softly, the sound almost bitter. You straightened your dress, smoothing out the fabric cupping his cheeks again. Your tongue traced his upper lip, instantly getting him to lick it as a response before Jungkook tried to pull you for another kiss.

"You won't be taking this dress off tonight" you said, your voice steadier than you felt.

"Really?" Jungkook challenged, his gaze piercing as he looked at you.

Your resolve wavered, but you forced yourself to turn away, your hand on the door handle. "Really"

As you stepped out into the chaos of the party, your heart pounded in your chest, your body still buzzing with the memory of his touch.

The door closed behind you, the sound reverberating through the small entryway of Jungkook's apartment. He kept looking at you concerned. When he heard you through the phone, he knew something was off, but now that he was seeing the state you were in, he knew it was worse than he could imagine.

"Y/n?" he asked,getting your attention, your face flushed and eyes blazing. "What happened? Why are you here so late?"

You didn't answer right away, your fists clenching at your sides as you struggled to find the right words. The argument with Mingyu was still fresh, your emotions raw and unfiltered.

"Why do you keep doing this?" you finally demanded, your voice trembling with equal parts anger and frustration.

Jungkook frowned, stepping back at that attack. "Doing what?"

"You," you spat, pointing at him. "You're always there, always watching, always... lingering in the back of my mind. Do you have any idea what it's doing to me?"

His confusion shifted into something more guarded, his shoulders tensing. "I think you need to calm down," he said carefully.

"Don't tell me to calm down!" you snapped, taking a step closer to him. "I just had the worst fight with Mingyu, and you know what? It wasn't even about him. It was about you."

Jungkook's eyes widened slightly, but he stayed silent, letting you continue.

"I was mad because he's leaving again, he's leaving me alone for another mission, another stretch of time where I have to sit and wait and pretend like I'm okay with it." your voice cracked, your chest heaving. "But I wasn't yelling at him because of that. Do you know what I was thinking instead of worrying because he won't be with me?" you stopped, your gaze attacking him. "I was fucking glad he is leaving. Do you even realize what this means? I'm the worst girlfriend ever. No matter how much I try, I can't get you out of my head. You're there all the damn time with any reason".

Jungkook's throat worked as he swallowed hard, his gaze searching for yours.

He knew Mingyu was leaving. They both discussed it before he finally made the decision. He even remembered the way his friend tried to find out the way to tell you, yet all he could think of was how there would be nothing on the way for him.

"I hate it," you whispered, your voice softening as the anger gave way to something more fragile. "I hate that I can't stop thinking about you. That when I'm with him, it's your face I see. That this... whatever this is between us, it's ruining me."

The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air.

"You think it's easy for me?" Jungkook said finally, his voice rough. "You think I don't feel the same way? That every time I see you with him, it doesn't tear me apart?"

You flinched at the raw emotion in his voice, the vulnerability he rarely let show.

"I didn't ask for this, Y/n," he continued, stepping closer to you. "I didn't ask to feel this way about someone I can't have. But here we are. I also hate not being able to look Mingyu in the eyes because all I can think about is his girlfriend. Or how, instead of telling him not to go, I wanted to encourage him to leave".

Your breath hitched as he closed the distance between you, his presence overwhelming. You could see the tension in his jaw, the way his hands flexed at his sides as though he were trying to hold himself back.

"Why are you here?" he asked, his voice low, almost pleading. "Why now?"

There was a brief silence, realizing with his question you had no business there. Why were you there?

"I don't know," you admitted, your eyes glistening. "I just... I needed to see you."

Jungkook let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "You're killing me, you know that?"

"I know" you whispered, your voice breaking.

And then, as though drawn by an invisible force, you both moved at the same time. Your hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him toward you as his arms wrapped around your waist. Your lips met in a clash of desperation and need, a release of all the emotions you'd been bottling up for so long.

The kiss was messy, frantic, and utterly consuming, neither of you caring about the consequences for the first time.

In a mini second his hands were everywhere they could reach, making your whole body squirm when he cupped your ass with his palms. It was fast, need hitting you two like a truck, barely giving you time to settle what was happening before you were getting rid of each other's clothes.

His tattooed fingers moved down your neck, in between your breasts, feeling your rushed heartbeat against his palm. He could sense you felt the same way he did, but you'd been too stubborn to admit it.

He kept moving down, the heat of your skin raising with every soft touch of his digits, your legs slightly parting when he attempted to slide through your folds. His groan made you throb against the tips, causing his breathing to become heavier.

"Do you like it when I touch you?" he asked with a thin voice, slowly starting to rub your clit in circles.

"I love it" you admitted. Your hand traced his packed chest, going down his marked abs until you moved past his v line "I kept thinking about being with you like this since you first kissed me".

You didn't know, but those words worked like a switch for Jungkook. Hearing from your lips how you were into him as much as he was into you was the little he needed to lose every bit of sanity.

Before your fingers could reach his dick, he pulled you for another kiss. His rough hands went straight to your ass, cupping your cheeks so he could lift your body and have your legs around his waist.

Jungkook didn't take you to the room, he didn't want to waste another second without being linked to you, he had wasted too much time already. You gasped again when your back collided against the wall.

His lips trapped you in an unknown world you didn't know could be so pleasuring. Usually, it was always just about Jungkook. But that night it was all about Jungkook, his taste, his gaze, the way his tongue worshiped your body like he wanted to know and memorize what every bit of you tasted like.

Your body arched for him when he closed his lips around your hard nipple, moving his lips and tongue like he was actually devouring you. You hadn't ever done it, but you were sure you'd be able to cum by the way he was only sucking you.

"Please, Jungkook" you muttered, your fingers getting lost in his strands of hair.

"Ask me" he demanded. "I've been imagining those words for way too long, I need to hear them".

"Fuck me" you asked, looking into his eyes. "Make me regret taking so long to do this"

"You're mine, Y/n," he growled, his eyes darkening, and you felt a shiver run through your body. You didn't respond, but the passion and hunger simmering within you made it clear that you knew a part of you belonged to him before you could admit it.

He reached out, grabbing a handful of your hair, and tugged your head back, exposing your neck. His lips found the delicate skin below your ear, and he nipped and sucked, eliciting a soft moan from your parted lips.

He leaned in, his eyes blazing with possessive desire, and his lips crushed against yours again, with a hunger that set fire to the pit of your stomach. His tongue delved deep, exploring every hidden crevice of your mouth, whilst his hands clutched at your body, gripping you tightly. That kiss only worked to drown the moan in your mouth as he slowly slid inside you, trying to memorize the feeling, to feel every millimeter in your channel get adjusted to him.

Your legs tightened around him, pulling him closer as you rocked your hips against his. It was slow at first, with the two of you wanting to get a taste of what you'd been craving, but were too stubborn to admit. But slowly, the intensity started getting the best of you, his digits denting on your skin as he angled his hips to rock them against you.

Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, your moans and sighs echoing in the room as you reached for your release. Jungkook's dirty talk fueled your desire, and you eagerly met his thrusts, your bodies slapping together in a rhythm that only intensified their pleasure.

"Oh, god, Jungkook," you moaned, your nails digging into his shoulders as he began to thrust harder.

"You like that, don't you?" Jungkook asked, his voice strained with desire. "You like feeling my cock inside you? Hmm? Fucking you like this?"

As you moved together, you found yourself lost in the moment. You had never felt this alive, this desired. Jungkook's dirty talk only added to the experience, his words making you wetter and more eager for him. Every time you thought you couldn't be more into him, he always did something that proved it was only the beginning.

"Yes, Jungkook, harder," Y/n begged, your voice filled with need.

He bent down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and nibbling gently. You arched your back again, your hands tangled in Jungkook's hair as you urged him on.

Your legs were wrapped around his waist, meeting him thrust for thrust. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, and you knew you weren't going to last much longer. Jungkook sensed it too, because he started pounding into you even harder. The loud dry claps of your bodies echoing through the silence of the room.

"Are you going to cum for me? Do it, baby" his forehead was resting against yours. "I'm going to cum inside you, Y/n. I'm going to fill you up with my cum."

With a loud cry, you came, your pussy clenching around Jungkook's cock. Jungkook followed soon after, his cock twitching inside you as he filled you with his cum, staying like that for a few moments, panting and trying to catch their breath, hoping common sense wouldn't hit you and make you regret what had just happened.

Jungkook slowly pulled out of you, moving his hips back while his hands still carried you. You looked up at him all the way through it, your eyes filled with something else that wasn't regret, yet he couldn't quite decipher what it was. You leaned in and kissed him again.

Although that kiss only meant the night wasn't ending there.

And it didn't.

You laid on top of Jungkook, your long hair cascading down your back as you moved your hips up and down, grinding your pussy against his cock. Your perky breasts bounced with each movement, and Jungkook couldn't help but stare at you, hypnotized by the way your body moved. He reached up and cupped your breasts, teasing your nipples as you moaned with pleasure.

"Oh fuck, Jungkook," you gasped, throwing your head back as you rode him harder. "Your cock feels so good"

Jungkook smirked, reaching down to spank your ass. "I love how your your tight little pussy takes me so well"

You moaned, biting your bottom lip as you nodded. "Hmm yes"

"Just like that... Show me how bad you want it" as time passed by, he sank deeper on the couch.

Just then, Jungkook's phone started ringing. You paused, looking up at him with a confused expression when he froze for a moment.

You were too drunk with pleasure to think of any possibility that wasn't distracting him from it, your lips moving quick to his neck.

"Who is it?" you asked.

Jungkook reached for his phone, but he didn't answer it. Mingyu had sent him countless messages, he had called a few times, and he knew the reason why was in front of him. He looked at you, knowing the second he mentioned your boyfriend, it all would stop.

He tossed it aside and focused on you, his hands on your hips as he thrust up into you.

"Who fucking cares" he moved forward, hiding his face on your neck. "You're so fucking hot, Y/n," he growled, his eyes locked on yours. "I could fuck you all day long."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah"

Jungkook grinned, his hands on your hips as he guided your movements. He loved how wild and uninhibited you were in bed, how you weren't afraid to take charge and ride him hard. Hell, you were the best fantasy he had ever had, and he finally had you.

"That's right, baby, ride my cock," he growled, his eyes dark with desire. "You do it so well"

You nodded, unable to speak as you focused on the delicious sensation of Jungkook's cock filling you up. You could feel yourself getting close to orgasm, your muscles clenching around him as you rode him harder and faster. The claps of your bodies turning into splashes due to your sticky skin covered in sweat and his load mixed with your juices leaking out of you.

He reached down between you, teasing your clit with his fingers as you moaned into his mouth. You started moving your hips again, grinding against him as you chased your orgasm again.

"Fuck, Jungkook," you gasped, breaking the kiss as you threw your head back. "I'm so close. Don't stop". Your nails digged on his skin, all the muscles in your body tensing "Yes, yes, fuck me harder," you begged, your voice hoarse with desire. "I'm almost there, Jungkook, I'm almost there."

Jungkook grinned, gripping your hips as he slammed up into you harder. "That's right, baby. Come for me. I want to feel you cum all over my cock."

Jungkook didn't need any more encouragement. He thrust up into you one last time, his cock pulsing deep inside you as he came hard. You followed him over the edge, your muscles clenching around him as you screamed out your own orgasm while your nails dug into his chest. Jungkook grunted, following you over the edge as he filled you with his cum.

It didn't hit you after the climax, not even after you showered and dressed yourself. It hit you when you walked to the door and he kissed you one last time, with such delicacy and care that you couldn't believe it was the same man you were begging to.

His steps were careful, pinning you against the wall again while cupping your cheeks.

You weren't quite sure what you wanted to do, but one thing for sure: you couldn't let go of Jungkook so easily after that night.

#armpirate #fanfic #ff #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkookxreader #jk #bts #wattpad #kookie #smut #jungkook smut #reader insert #one shot #jungkooksmut #jksmut #jk smut #boyfriendsfriend!au

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jungshookz · 2 months ago

Text

y/n seems to have everyone wrapped around her finger and to be quite frank, namjoon's unimpressed

➺ pairing; professor!namjoon x y/n

➺ genre; mostly sfw with a little something something at the end!! namjoon is a philosophy professor who suddenly has to share his precious lecture hall newbie professor y/n!! we all know i am a big fan of enemies to lovers/opposites attract and i love it even more when both of them are total nerds!! y/n’s approach to philosophy is so ridiculous and namjoon can’t stand her!! namjoon is so stuffy and y/n can’t stand him!! god damnit just kiss already!!

➺ wordcount; 7.2k

➺ summary; you’re the newest professor joining the university, and all of a sudden, it feels like namjoon actually has someone to compete with for the first time.

➺ what to expect; “Also, please stick to black, blue, and red ink for future note-taking and grading purposes. Pastel purple is not an appropriate colour for a higher education atmosphere. Thank you.”

➺ currently playing on cee.fm; what is this feeling? — wicked soundtrack

»»————- 📚 ————-««

namjoon isn’t a fan of change.

he’s always liked things in a particular way — he only likes notebooks with a seamless, perfect binding for the spines, he only likes ballpoint pens and never gel, he only uses traditional coloured highlighters and none of that strange, pastel-coloured junk, and he only likes to use a sandalwood scented essential oil diffuser in his apartment and his lecture hall

most of his life has been planned out (he planned out how the next twenty years of his life would go when he was ten, and according to this twenty-year plan, he’s pretty on track) and he likes it that way, so yes, he isn’t a big fan of change when it comes to such an important timeline like this

he’s currently a professor at the university he got his phd from, and because part of his twenty-year plan included going from his bachelor’s degree to his master’s degree to his doctoral degree, it means that he’s actually the youngest professor on the staff’s roster (which, again, was part of his plan all along)

he’s been teaching here for nearly two years now and has built a very solid reputation with his co-workers, he’s the school’s most sought-after professor when it comes to his philosophy classes — he teaches three undergrad classes and two graduate classes and every semester they’re always packed and students will always email him to try and get into the class when the capacity is full — and he’s pretty sure he’s getting a raise soon, which is great because he’s been meaning to splurge on a new electric tea kettle that lets you control the temperature and sings a little song when the water’s done boiling

“alright, let’s bring today’s discussion to a close.” namjoon shakes his wrist, checking the time on his watch before nodding to himself — the lecture ends in five minutes, so he’s wrapping up right on time and he’ll be able to grab a coffee and a croissant before his office hours start, “what we’ve explored today is really just a glimpse into the vast and ongoing conversation about how to engage critically with your existence.” he hums, leaning back against his desk as he looks out at the sea of students in front of him, the sound of pen tips scratching on paper and typing on keyboards coming from all over the room

“after you leave class today, i’d like for you to reflect on the choices you make — not just the big, life-altering ones, but the miniscule, everyday decisions.” he reaches up to adjust his glasses on the bridge of his nose, “are they leading you toward a life of purpose and integrity? or are they dictated by external pressures and unexamined habits? we’ll continue this discussion next time, but until then, i’d like you to keep questioning, keep thinking, and keep living philosophically. as always, i have office hours here from 3:30-6 if you have any questions. class dismissed.” he nods, and almost immediately the class breaks into packing up, murmurs rippling through the vast lecture hall

namjoon smiles lightly to himself as he gives himself a mental pat on the back

yet another successful lecture!

he really does love teaching, and he’s so grateful that he’s able to do something that he actually likes for work

shaping young minds is something that he’s always wanted to do, and he thinks he’s been doing a pretty good job as a professor

…

oh, who is he kidding? of course he’s been doing a fantastic job as a professor!

he smiles politely as his students trickle out the door, turning around to grab his wallet out of his backpack

croissant time!

»»————- 📚 ————-««

“hello, are you here for office hours?” namjoon isn’t surprised when he opens the door to see someone standing by his desk, looking around the empty lecture hall, “it actually starts at 3:30, so it would be great if you could come back in fifteen minutes and i’d be happy to answer any questions you have about the lecture.”

“oh, hi!“ you spin around with a smile, and namjoon returns a polite one as he sets his coffee and pastry bag down on the desk, “no, i’m not here for office hours, i’m here to check out the lecture hall for when i start teaching alongside you next week. you’re namjoon, right? i’ve heard so much about you, i’m y/n y/l/n and i’m really excited to start working together-“ you stick your hand out for him to shake and he immediately frowns, glancing down at your hand before looking back up at you with a scoff of disbelief

“teaching… alongside me?” he tilts his head, reaching over to give your hand a shake after a moment of hesitation (it would be rude of him to turn down a handshake, and he has to admit you have a nice, firm handshake), “i’m sorry, what are you talking about?”

“didn’t you get the email? i’m the newest philosophy professor joining the staff-“ you slide your tote bag off your shoulder and pull your phone out, “they told me i’d kinda be shadowing you before they can determine if i should lead my own lectures or not. so i guess i’m a co-professor for now, but eventually i’ll just be a professor. i’ve seen a few of your lectures online, i’m looking forward to working together and-“

“co-professor?” namjoon interrupts, holding his hand out to make you stop talking, “i’m sorry, this is the first i’m hearing of this.” he fumbles for his phone before looking through his email because there’s no way he would’ve missed an email as important as-

okay there it is

yep

he totally missed that

“i see.” namjoon pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, “okay, well… i guess you can just sit with the class and listen to the lectures. i don’t need an assistant professor, but you can help give out handouts or something-“

“well, that would make sense if i was a TA, but i’m not entering this classroom as a TA or an assistant professor, i’m entering it as a co-professor. we’re equals!” you point out, namjoon’s eyes widening when you pull a pen out from your bun and slap a copy of the class syllabus down on his desk

he’s appalled to see that you’ve written all over it, and not only that, you’ve used multiple colours to take notes instead of the traditional black, blue, and red

…pastel purple?!

“i took a look at the lineup you have, and to be frank, it’s a little stiff. your students are drowning in dense readings, and i don’t know about you, but i actually hated reading so much when i was in undergrad-“

“well, that sounds like it’s a you problem, because i liked reading and always appreciated when the professor gave us something dense and enriching to read-“

“why not swap out one of the medieval philosophy lectures for something a little fresher?” you suggest, using the back of your pen to point to the lecture he has planned in a few weeks, “maybe we can do a session on philosophy in science fiction? ooh, ethics in AI might be fun, no? it’s something they can apply to the modern world-“

“philosophy isn’t about chasing trends. it’s about discipline, rigorous thought, and engaging with foundational texts that have shaped human understanding for centuries, professor y/l/n-“

“it’s doctor.”

“what?”

“dr. y/l/n. i just graduated with my phd.”

a moment of silence passes as namjoon processes all of this new information

processing…

“you-“ still processing… “you what? how old are you?”

“you should never ask a woman how old she is, but i’m two years younger than you. and i know that because i actually took the time to look at your profile on the university’s website after getting the email that we’d be working together for the rest of the semester-“

“rest of the-“ namjoon chokes, reaching up to adjust his tie, “okay, respectfully, dr. y/l/n, my whole point is that students have no business calling themselves actual philosophers if they can’t wrestle with aquinas and avicenna-“

“right, because thirty pages of medieval metaphysical debates on the essence of angels is going to determine whether or not a student can call themself an actual philosopher. i’m not saying to abandon the classics, i’m just saying it’s not gonna hurt to throw in a few discussions that’ll make philosophy feel a little more… alive to them!”

namjoon resists the urge to roll his eyes as he takes a seat at his desk, keeping his eyes glued on the scribbles all over your copy of the syllabus

there’s no way he’s gonna work with someone who thinks pastel purple is an appropriate colour to use when taking notes

he reaches over to grab his coffee, taking a sip and-

his coffee is cold

he waited too long and now his coffee is cold, and he would’ve been drinking perfectly lukewarm coffee if it weren’t for the fact that you came and disrupted his whole schedule like this

“anyway, i’m open to discussing spicing up the syllabus once you have the time. i don’t want to take up any of your office hours, i know you probably have students lined up outside already-“ you fold the syllabus back up into four squares before tucking it away into your tote bag (namjoon is once again appalled you don’t have a folder for your papers and seem to have based your organising system off mary poppins’ purse), “but it was really nice meeting you, dr. kim. you have my phone number and email when you want to arrange a meeting.”

“…right…” namjoon trails off, and for the first time is rendered completely speechless and doesn’t know what else to say

all he knows is that there’s no way in hell he’s going to allow this co-professor business to happen.

»»————- 📚 ————-««

you let out a breath as you shut the door behind you, your shoulders finally slumping

you hated that whole interaction

you can already tell that working with namjoon is going to be a pain in the ass

you’d heard some things about him — you’d heard about how great of a lecturer he is and how he genuinely cares about what he’s teaching and what his students are learning from him, but you’d also heard that he was pretty stuck in his ways and not… super cooperative, which you already saw first hand

at the same time, you had to admit that that was a quality that both of you shared — you’re not exactly a fan of being co-professors, you’d much rather just take the reins and lead the class yourself while namjoon sits off to the side, but you are the new one around here and you do want to be liked

so you can play nice for now, because the most important thing you’re focusing on is securing your place as an official staff member and making a great first impression on your new co-workers and your new students

you’d prefer for namjoon to like you, but he seems to be a tough nut to crack

the both of you should at least try to get along, and you’re willing to do that as long as he’s willing to meet you in the middle

so… let’s just hope he’s willing to meet you in the middle

your phone buzzes in the back pocket of your jeans and you pull it out, surprised to already see a text from namjoon

okay

this is great!

the fact that he’s already opening a line of communication is a good sign, maybe this semester won’t be hell on earth after all

the smile on your face slowly disappears when you finally get around to reading the texts, your eyebrows knitting together instead

Hello, Dr. Y/L/N. This is Kim Namjoon. Please save my number so that we may communicate with each other if needed. The semester has already begun, therefore I don’t think there has to be any changes made to my syllabus. We do not need to discuss this topic any further. Thank you.

you don’t even get a chance to really process his text before another one pops up

Also, please stick to black, blue, and red ink for future note-taking and grading purposes. Pastel purple is not an appropriate colour for a higher education atmosphere. Thank you.

»»————- 📚 ————-««

namjoon sighs to himself as he makes his way up the brick stairs to enter the philosophy building, reaching up to adjust his tie

for the first time ever, he’s running a little behind (only by like, three minutes, he’s not that reckless) but it’s only because he spent the earlier portion of the afternoon speaking with the department head and practically pleading them to change their minds about this whole co-professor situation

he’d gone into the office with many good arguments tucked into a neat little powerpoint presentation

for example, he doesn’t need a co-professor because he knows what he’s doing and you would only slow him down

also his students consistently have high grades and his classes are always packed each semester so there’s no issues with consistency or lack of interest

sure, philosophy can be a stiff subject to work with but he thinks he’s done a great job at teaching it and upkeeping enthusiasm

the point is he doesn’t need you, and if anything you should just be teaching your own class and the students who don’t make it into his class can all go to you!

(maybe he shouldn’t have made that last comment, but it’s true.)

but of course, because luck wasn’t on his side, his presentation didn’t convince the department head to change his mind

apparently you were a “great addition” to the staff and that namjoon should feel lucky he gets to work alongside such a “smart, well-spoken young professional” who is “just as good at teaching as he is”

ridiculous

totally ridiculous

what’s even more ridiculous is the fact that you seem to have become a fan favourite despite only being here for literally a week

your mug is already right next to his in the cupboard in the professor’s lounge

it’s clearly a handmade mug you probably made at one of those pottery places because the edges are a little bumpy which makes it wobble a little when you put it face down

the outside is an eggplant purple and the inside of the cup is painted a shade of sage green and it looks like a child would drink chocolate milk out of it

his mug is sensible and professional

it’s plain white with his initials on the front printed in times new roman

everyone knows it’s his mug and there’s never any confusion

he even heard a rumour about one of the spare rooms in the philosophy department being cleared out for a new office for you if things work out

and yes, he has his own office already, but he just thinks everyone is being a little hasty clearing out an office space just for you

he can’t even imagine how you’d decorate the space

you’re probably one of those people who have little trinkets everywhere and you’ll probably have like a miniature pool table on your desk to play with

he shudders as he thinks about having to sit in oversized beanbag chairs instead of actual chairs

“alright, alright, alright!”

namjoon’s surprised when he opens the lecture hall door to an unusually bustling room, the students chatting animatedly as they flip through their notebooks

the air is alive with the rustling of papers, clinking of metal water bottles, and the occasional burst of laughter and he frowns as he sees a few of them leaning forward enthusiastically compared to the usual scene of them scrolling through their phones or talking to each other

he turns his head and sees you at the front of the room, perched casually on the edge of the desk twirling a purple pen between your fingers before shoving it into your bun, “now, something a little controversial...” you pause dramatically, “red ink for grading. ethical, or a crime against student morale?”

namjoon’s jaw immediately clenches as he rolls his eyes — obviously this has something to do with the text he sent you the other day about your ridiculous coloured pens and your little ego’s been bruised and that’s why you’re being bratty

but whatever, because if anything this is just proving his point — you’re an immature little kid totally unfit to be his equal! and he’s more than happy to let you make a fool of yourself in front of his students, so sure, go ahead and talk about your little purple pen for all he cares

the room erupts in laughter and groans and namjoon silently makes his way over to the front to join you, pulling his chair back to see that you’ve already put your backpack down on it

he picks it up and plops it down on the ground, using his foot to kick it under the desk before taking a seat and hanging his backpack on the back of the chair

“i always feel like i’m being yelled at when i see red ink!”

“exactly!” you laugh, sliding up to sit on the edge of the desk with your legs swinging slightly, completely blocking the class from seeing namjoon, “it’s psychological torture. red ink doesn’t just mark mistakes, it screams them. it’s aggressive. but what about if i used green? or pink? or… pastel purple? would you feel a little different about your grade?”

“it would feel… friendlier?”

“friendlier, right?” you grin, tapping your temple as you look out at the room of enthusiastic students, “then here’s the real ethical dilemma, kids — if something as small as ink colour affects how we perceive feedback, then what do we think that says about bigger, more serious choices? if we can reframe an experience with something as simple as colour, then what other biases are shaping the way we see the world around us? something to think about...”

“are you just about done, dr. y/l/n?” namjoon raises an eyebrow, tapping his fingers against the desk as he leans back against his chair, “because i’d like to get started with class now, if you’re ready to go.”

“ah! dr. kim, sorry — i know you usually like to start your classes with a silent ten minutes of quiet reflection of last week’s lecture, but i figured i’d warm up the class myself since this is my first day as co-professor.” you chirp, sliding off the desk before turning to face the class again, “very lovely to meet you all and i’m looking forward to getting to know each and every one of you as we progress with the semester!”

“kiss ass.” namjoon coughs into his fist quietly, getting up from his seat before smiling warmly at his students, nudging you aside with his hip before clapping his hands together, “alright, class! medieval philosophy, let’s get into it…”

you immediately roll your eyes when you turn to face away from the class, taking a seat next to the desk and crossing one leg over the other

he’s just jealous because the students clearly like you more and you’ve only been here five minutes

but if this is how he wants to play, then you’re more than willing to play along.

»»————- 📚 ————-««

namjoon finds that the simplest things in life bring him the most pleasure

a hot cup of black coffee, the perfect scent of sandalwood in a room, the feeling of cracking the spine on a brand new notebook…

but most importantly, a perfectly toasted buttery flaky croissant from the cafe on the bottom floor of the philosophy building

he’s eaten these croissants ever since he was a student here, and he always has a croissant after he teaches classes here on tuesdays and thursdays — it’s like a reward!

“what do you mean there are no more croissants?!” namjoon slams both palms down on the counter, pulling away immediately when he feels that the surface is a little sticky

gross

“sorry, namjoon!” hoseok shrugs, “i just sold the last croissant to- actually, i think you know her, she said she’s the new professor in the philosophy department-“

you.

“i know who you’re talking about.” namjoon grits his teeth, looking at the pastry case for anything else that might satisfy his midday sweet treat craving but he doesn’t want a stupid sea salt chocolate chip cookie or a raspberry white chocolate scone, he wants his plain buttery croissant that you probably only bought to spite him!

“yeah, her!” hoseok grins, setting namjoon’s coffee down on the counter, “she’s really nice, isn’t she? she said she likes the way i do my leaf design on her caramel lattes, no one’s ever complimented my leaves before- it just feels so nice to be appreciated for once-“

“no!” namjoon snaps, pointing a finger at hoseok, “you have to stop yourself from being charmed by her, it’s all an act and- and- next time she asks for a latte, you should do a giant- a GIANT frowney face-“

“well, i don’t think i’m going to do that but-“ hoseok frowns when he notices a vein starting to bulge out namjoon’s forehead, “hey, you seem a little tense! how about a cookie on the house?” he asks, using his tongs to pick up the sad-looking cookie before putting it in a paper bag for namjoon, “it’s just a croissant, namjoon. i know you like ‘em every tuesday and thursday but if it makes you feel better i’ll save you one on thursday! it seems like both of you guys like croissants so i can definitely save two of them-“

the both of them look over to where you’re sitting by the window with his croissant while you flip to the next page of whatever stupid book you’re reading, and namjoon’s gaze doesn’t waver in the slightest when you look up and over at them

you smile brightly, raising the croissant in the air a little before taking a massive bite out of it, rubbing your stomach and nodding your head exaggeratingly

namjoon’s eye twitches and he turns back to look at hoseok

“it is not just a croissant and you know that, hoseok-“ he snatches the cookie from his friend before shaking his head in disappointment, “she is a siren and you are a helpless, weak little sailor-“

“hey! what the hell, man?!”

“WEAK little sailor!” namjoon exclaims as he storms away, angrily shoving the cookie into his mouth and wiping crumbs off with the back of his hand sloppily

»»————- 📚 ————-««

“tae, have you seen my mug?” you frown, taking a few steps back to see if you can get a better view of the second shelf, “i usually have it on the first shelf but i can’t find it anywhere…”

“is it not there?” taehyung — he’s the janitor here and you guys got along pretty quickly — hums, setting his mop aside before walking over to join you by the cupboards, “i swear i saw it there this morning, that’s odd. i’ll keep an eye out and let you know if i see it anywhere. you sure you didn’t leave it in your lecture hall?”

“no…” you trail off, shutting the cupboard doors gently with a sigh, “hm. i’m sure it’ll pop up somewhere. thanks, anyway…”

you like to think that you’re a pretty chill person, but there’s just something about misplacing something that really irks you

because then you start thinking about when the last time you saw the missing object was and then it turns into a spiral of how you could be so careless and irresponsible and lose something and also it makes you anxiously think about someone else using something that belongs to you and only you

that’s your good luck mug!

you made it at a colour-me-mine in freshman year and you’ve used it ever since

you’re convinced it has some kind of magical power because the mug always happens to be there when you get good news

it was there when you got accepted into your graduate program, your doctoral program, and it was literally in your hands when you got the email from the university accepting you as a new professor

so… hopefully it does pop up somewhere

you used it yesterday after class and you remember washing and drying it immediately before sliding it back on the shelf

you chew on the corner of your lip as you push open the door to the lecture hall, your eyes widening when you see namjoon standing there taking a sip from your mug

you open your mouth to say something but he immediately brings a finger up to his lips to shush you — the class is having their silent time and the last thing you want to do is cause a scene, right?

“that’s my mug.” you whisper through gritted teeth, and namjoon moves his hands to the side quickly when you reach up to try to snatch it out of his hands, “you have a stupid, boring mug already-“

“oh, but your mug is so much fun!” namjoon grins, taking another sip of water from it

(it’s actually killing him having to drink from this cursed vessel. why are the edges so bumpy?! how do you drink from this stupid thing without dribbling all over yourself?!)

“it is on, dr. kim.” you hiss, forcing a smile on your face when a few students look up from their desks, “it is so on.”

“hm.” namjoon clears his throat quietly, the two of you standing side by side with your arms pressed together, “bring it, dr. y/l/n.”

»»————- 📚 ————-««

the next few weeks seem to go by like a blur — maybe because you’re actually having a good time teaching the class and slowly growing more comfortable being a professor (you agreed to stick to namjoon’s syllabus only if he allowed you to teach your ethics of AI lecture) but also because this rivalry between the two of you seems to be keeping you on high alert

after the croissant and the mug incident, the two of you only continued to one-up each other

you replaced the sandalwood essential oil in the lecture hall with a refreshing peppermint (and you really doused it in the machine so it would take multiple cycles to be fully flushed out) and in response namjoon bought the entire jug of caramel syrup from the cafe so you’d be forced to pick another flavour

and then you took all of namjoon’s sensible coloured whiteboard markers and replaced them with bright, fun ones forcing him to write in a fuschia pink and in response namjoon bought all fifteen croissants that day which felt kind of dramatic but at the same time you can’t help but kind of respect it

whatever

all you know is that you despise kim namjoon

every morning when you wake up, you’re thinking about how else you can terrorise him besides just taking the last croissant in the display case

every night before bed, you’re thinking about how else you can make fun of his stupid powerpoint presentations and you even considered hacking his laptop and adding fun transitions to his powerpoints to throw him off

he hates fun transitions

with that being said, you’re willing to put the fight on pause because today is an important day — it’s your first time leading a lecture! you’ve been prepping for this ethics in AI lecture and you’re more than excited to show the class (and namjoon) what you’re capable of

and if all goes well, you will be rubbing this success in his stupid, handsome face.

“handfphome?” you blurt out, toothbrush hanging out of your mouth as you blink at yourself in the mirror

oh no

you don’t actually think he’s handsome, do you?

well, there was that one time he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and when he turned around you couldn’t help but notice how broad his back was

and that other time you were looking at his hands when he was pointing to something on his stupid powerpoint and you couldn’t help but think that he had such pretty hands

and also he always smells really good — like a combination of smokey sandalwood and his natural musk

and when you listen to him speak it’s really soothing because he has a deep voice that kind of makes you feel like you’re floating on a cloud being rocked back and forth

he’s also very intelligent and incredibly well-spoken

highly educated, charming in his own weird way (not with you, but you’ve seen the way he interacts with other professors), kinda funny sometimes, and you only know he’s single because you overheard two students whispering about it in the hallway — apparently they’d done a deep dive of his socials and there was no partner to be found, his instagram page was full of pictures of plants and quotes from philosophers

so basically he’s a hot single nerd who’s really into philosophy and plants and you guys are only two years apart and hypothetically if you didn’t know each other and you saw him at the bar you would probably feel a little flustered if he flirted with you

and maybe one time you watched him apply chapstick onto his plump lips and you wondered if they were as soft as they looked

…

you take your toothbrush out of your mouth, your eyes widening in realisation and-

“son of a BITC-“

»»————- 📚 ————-««

“would you let AI decide whether you get a loan? a job? parole? surgery?” you pause, letting the weight of the question settle over the students, “i know, it’s a crazy question. but maybe you already have… algorithms are making these decisions right now — sorting resumes, predicting crime, even diagnosing illnesses. AI is everywhere, and the question isn’t whether it should exist, it’s whether we should trust it…”

the only reason why namjoon is cooperating today is because you’ve (sort of) cooperated with his syllabus over the last couple weeks despite being a total menace to him personally

yes, he’ll let you teach your ethics in AI lecture today because he’s interested in seeing what points you’ll bring up today

he can also tell you’ve been really nervous about leading your first lecture and he still remembers how nervous he was when he was in your position, so he’ll take it easy on you

he caught you practicing your intro in the professor’s lounge and he slowly backed out so that you wouldn’t see him

and he’ll never say this to your face but from the intro alone it sounds like a pretty promising lecture

and it was kind of cute seeing you fumble with your cue cards and going over your lines with your eyes shut

namjoon leans back against his chair as he listens to you speak, keeping his eyes on the back of your head as he crosses his arms over his chest

sure, maybe you’re more than immature when it comes to buying his croissants and replacing his scented oils, but…

oh god

does he respect you as an educator?!

he pauses for a second to think, watching as you reach up to fiddle with a button on your shirt nervously

also you actually dressed up today compared to your usual attire of a sweater and jeans and namjoon can’t help but notice that your ass looks really round in that pencil skirt

he tilts his head slightly as his eyes continue staring at you from behind, the ooga booga man part of his brain wondering how it’d feel to grasp your waist and cup your ass as he-

oh no

he feels his dick twitch in his boxers and he clears his throat quietly, looking down at the desk and focusing on a speck of dust instead

what is this feeling?

he’s pretty sure he hates you

and he’s pretty sure you hate him, so it doesn’t make sense for him to suddenly be thinking about how sweet you smell and how pretty your smile is and how funny it actually was for you to buy the last croissant just to get on his nerves

nope

you guys don’t like each other!

that’s how this works!

you just came in here and totally messed up his flow and you just expect him to go along with it but he refuses to do that and after this semester is over he hopes they stick you in another building far, far away from him

he doesn’t need anyone messing with his routine, and especially not some hotshot professor who just got her phd

“now, some of my less adventurous colleagues-“ you step aside to reveal namjoon, and namjoon feels his jaw twitch when the class laughs lightly after you gesture to him, “would tell you that AI is a dangerous pandora’s box, something that we should fear. and sure, it’s got its problems… bias, accountability, control. but let’s not kid ourselves — human decision making isn’t exactly perfect, either. AI didn’t invent discrimination, it just inherited it from us. so can we teach morality to something that doesn’t feel?”

“AI is a threat to ethical stability. we’re delegating moral decision-making to machines that lack genuine understanding, consciousness, or accountability.” namjoon butts in, standing up from his desk with a scoff, “how can we trust algorithms with decisions that affect human lives when they can’t even grasp mortality in any meaningful way?”

you look at him, slightly surprised that he’s interrupted you this early in your lecture for a debate

but sure, you’ll give it a go — the two of you haven’t actually debated over a subject before and you’re down to totally humiliate him in front of the class

“dr. kim is a great example of what sounding like a doomsday prophet is, class.” you smile sweetly, fluttering your lashes at namjoon as the class breaks into a few giggles and chuckles, “AI is a tool. nothing more, nothing less. it doesn’t need to ‘grasp’ mortality than a calculator needs to ‘understand’ math. the ethical responsibility lies with us! blaming AI is like blaming a knife for stabbing.”

“that’s a dangerously naive view, dr. y/l/n!” namjoon laughs, the two of you staring each other down as you stand at opposite ends of the desk, “AI systems are already making high-stakes decisions — these systems inherit biases from their training data and can operate in ways even their own creators can’t explain. if we don’t impose strict ethical guidelines, we’re ceding control to forces we barely understand-“

“you’re acting like we’re summoning some digital god that’ll enslave us all! AI doesn’t have agency — instead of fearing it, we should focus on improving transparency and fairness in these systems. ethics in AI isn’t about rejecting technology, it’s about guiding it responsibly-“

“guiding it-“ namjoon can practically hear his heart thumping in his chest as his frustration rises inside him, “guiding it responsibly?! and what happens when corporations prioritise efficiency over ethics? what- what about when governments exploit AI for mass surveillance? when biased training data leads to systemic discrimination? you’re placing blind faith in a system that rewards profit over morality- you’re playing a dangerous game, dr. y/l/n, AI isn’t just another tool, it’s a tool we may not be able to control. and your reckless optimism makes you too eager to hand over the reins-“

“maybe you just don’t like that i’m willing to embrace the unknown!” you throw your hands up into the air before pointing an accusatory finger at him, “maybe that unsettles you because you have everything planned to a ridiculous degree, like the temperature of your coffee and what time you eat your croissants-“

“what unsettles me is your inability to take this seriously!” namjoon presses his lips into a firm line, feeling his face heating up, “you act as if ethics in AI is some intellectual playground when in reality, it has life-or-death consequences-“

“oh, i take it very seriously, dr. kim, i just don’t think fear is the right response. fear clouds judgement, and i think you just like to have an insane amount of control over things-“

“well, excuse me! someone has to have control, someone has to make sure we don’t create something we can’t contain-“

“you always think you can contain things, don’t you?”

“and you always think you can push boundaries without consequences!”

“you’d be surprised how many boundaries can be pushed safely, dr. kim.”

there’s a beat of silence between the two of you, the air heavy with something that doesn’t feel like loathing, but rather…

you pause, remembering all of a sudden that the students should be debating with each other instead of watching their professors do it

“uh-“ you turn back to face the class before letting out a chuckle, “let’s take twenty minutes to discuss this subject with the person next to you! dr. kim and i have to re-evaluate the structure of today’s lecture, please pardon us-“

the class breaks into discussion and both you and namjoon exchange glares as you head towards the door

the two of you stumble against each other and get caught in the door for a second, both of you wanting to be the first one out to lead the way

“oh, get off me-“

“you get off me!”

“what is your problem?!” you snap as soon as you leave the lecture hall, heading straight for an empty classroom nearby, “you’re supposed to let me lead this lecture, today was my day and you just couldn’t help yourself!”

when the hell is this going to end?!

there’s no way the both of you can work together if he’s going to get this heated in a debate

and sure, he made some really good points and the nerd inside of you is saying that that really good debate session might as well been some form of foreplay but that’s beside the point

“oh, please.” namjoon kicks the door shut behind him, “all we did was get into a debate, you should be glad i participated at all-“

“you know what, i actually do know what your problem is.” you whip around, jabbing a finger into his (firm) chest, “you’re just a little man who’s threatened by me because we both know i can do your job just as well — or honestly, even better than you can, and this is the first time you’ve had any sort of competition. i’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news but you just have to accept the fact that i’m going to be here and i’m sticking around for a long, long-“

“i’m going to kiss you, and if you don’t want that to happen, then tell me now and we can go back to the classroom and i’ll sit there quietly for the rest of your lecture.” namjoon interrupts, and your eyes widen as your breath hitches in your throat

“wha-“ your voice cracks and you feel your face flush, “you- i’m sorry, what?”

“you heard me, y/n.” namjoon looks down at you, and you’re half expecting him to quit the act and say that he’s just fucking with you, but… “so what’s it going to be?”

a moment of silence passes and you feel your thighs press together slightly when namjoon reaches up to loosen his tie slightly, his chest falling and rising in heavy breaths, “funny. you’re so quiet all of a sudden.”

“i…” your lashes flutter as you stare up at him, “fine. you- we-“ you straighten your posture, trying your best not to show how flustered you actually are, “but make it quick because i have a lecture to-“

without another word, namjoon closes the distance between the two of you and in one fluid motion, presses his lips against yours and now you can finally confirm that his lips are as soft as they look

you grip the front of his shirt to pull him closer, deepening the kiss with a fervor that matches the intensity of your back-and-forth over the last few weeks

your lips move against each other’s as namjoon’s hands slide around your waist to pull you in even tighter, his body pressing against yours as if he can’t get close enough

you’re breathless when the two of you eventually pull away, your cheeks flushed and your heart thumping wildly in your chest

“this better not be some weird prank-“ you manage to blurt out, head still spinning from what was a very, very good kiss, “because i’m petty enough to call the catering company and tell them to nix the croissant deliveries entirely-“

namjoon laughs, leaning down for another kiss — this time softer, more deliberate — before pulling away with a playful eye roll

“we’re gonna go back in and you’ll finish your lecture, and if you’re free tonight, i’d love to take you out for dinner.” he murmurs, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was being a little shy

it’s cute

“i’ll go out with you… on one condition.” you hum, reaching up to adjust his glasses for him

“hm?”

“next week you let me lead a lecture on examining the moral dilemmas faced by superheroes in film and comics — like how batman has a no-kill rule and-“

namjoon immediately groans as he turns and heads towards the door, “oh my god, you are infuriating-“

“what?! it’s a good subject!”

🎙️ ask y/n about her thoughts on the nature of consciousness (talk to my characters!)

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (go say hi to yoongi and y/n in la vie en bonsai!)

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!)

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