#bts fluff

[95rkives]

ᝰ.ᐟ lazy mornings with a clingy jungkook bc i miss him.

it’s early. too early. like, the kind of early that makes you groan and bury yourself deeper into the warmth of your blankets. but the problem is… jungkook is your blanket. and he’s not having it.

he’s pressed up against you, bare skin against bare skin, all warmth and muscle and soft sheets tangled between your legs. his arm is slung lazily around your waist, fingers tracing little patterns on your hip, his breath warm as he buries his face into the curve of your neck.

“baby,” he murmurs, voice all raspy and sleep-heavy, lips brushing over your skin. “wake up.”

you let out a tiny, sleepy whine, turning your head away from him, but he only chuckles, the sound deep and so smug, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. because, of course, he does.

his lips move slowly, pressing the softest, laziest kisses along your jaw, your shoulder, the back of your neck. “come on,” he whispers, his hand sliding over your stomach, fingers spreading over your ribs, warm and teasing. “don’t make me do something drastic.”

and ugh, he’s so annoying. but also, he feels so good. so solid and warm behind you, his lips sending tiny little shivers down your spine with each kiss. his hand moves again, fingertips just barely brushing under your breasts now, featherlight.

you suck in a breath. he grins against your skin.

“there you are,” he whispers, nipping at your earlobe, voice smug as ever. “good morning, my love.”

[ggukivrse]

THE ART OF PRETENDING - JJK | 06

summary. when you and jungkook show up to your much anticipated graduation trip and realise neither of you had the guts to tell your friends about your recent break up, there’s only one thing you can do to keep the trip from falling apart: pretend.

but somewhere between fake kisses and real feelings, you start to wonder if letting go was ever the right choice at all.

pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader

genre/warnings: exes to lovers, fake dating, idiots to lovers, mutual pining, swearing, fluff, angst, arguing :’(, jk’s an asshole in this i’m sorry, (eventual) explicit sexual content, ft. seokjin, namjoon, hoseok, jimin, taehyung, yoongi + four female ocs

word count: 4.6k

notes: okay first of all, i’m SO sorry for the wait. second of all, this chapter was meant to be much longer but i split it into two :< anyways, likes, comments, reblogs, asks and feedback are sooo appreciated!! enjoy (?) reading my angels <33 (and pls don’t hate me </3)

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⤷ chapter six — tv

“and i’ll be in denial for at least a little while / what about the plans we made.”

The kitchen is quiet, only filled by the soft buzz of the fridge and the distant sound of waves. You take a slow sip from your mug, fingers curled around the ceramic.

The coffee's still warm, just the way you like it — strong, slightly bitter, just enough milk to soften the edge. You’d made Jungkook’s the same way you always have. You didn’t even think about it. Just moved through the motions like you’ve done a hundred mornings before.

But that was nearly half an hour ago.

His mug is still sitting on the counter. Steam long gone, surface barely warm. You glance at it for the third — maybe fourth — time, as if expecting it to have vanished. It hasn’t. It’s still there, untouched.

And so is the space beside you.

You haven’t seen him since waking up.

You’d stirred sometime around eight, alone. No arm slung over your waist, no weight shifting the mattress beside you, no sleepy grumble against your shoulder. Just cold sheets and a quiet room. The fan was still spinning overhead lazily, and the only thing on the nightstand that hadn’t been yours was a single bottle of water.

You’d stared at the ceiling for a few minutes after that.

It would’ve been easier if you hadn’t let yourself get used to waking up like that again. If you hadn’t let it feel like something.

But you did, because you always do, with him. Even now.

So when you eventually got out of bed, you made two cups of coffee. One for you. One for him.

You tell yourself it was just habit. But that’s only half-true.

Because the other half — the part you don’t say out loud — is that you were kind of hoping he’d show up.

That you could sit across from him, trade casual conversation, build your way back into something steady enough to finally ask the things you’ve been swallowing down since the breakup. Finally ask the things you wanted to ignore last night when you kissed him.

What happened?

What changed?

Why did it feel like he was ready to spend the rest of your life with you, and then suddenly, he wasn't?

You’ve been sitting with those questions for weeks. Letting them settle into your bones. Last night had started to smooth out the edges. That kiss, the way he held you, the weight of him tucked against your back — none of it felt like someone who’d let go for good.

But this morning?

This morning feels like the reset button was hit again. Like you’re back at square one.

And it’s starting to scare you.

You take another sip from your mug.

It’s not just that he left. It’s the fact that you have no idea where he went, or why, or when he’s coming back. It’s that your questions are still sitting in your chest, unanswered. It’s that his coffee is still sitting in front of you, lukewarm.

It’s that you keep hoping for something that keeps slipping away.

And sure, it could be nothing. He could walk into the kitchen any minute and prove that all of your overthinking was for nothing and place a kiss against your temple as he silently confirms that you guys are finally okay again. But as you stare down at nothing in specific, eyes unfocused on the ground, you can't ignore the feeling that it's not going to be that easy.

A hand waving in front of your face breaks you out of your thoughts.

“Hello? Earth to ___?"

You blink and turn to find Kiara standing in front of you, one brow raised, one hand waving dramatically in front of your face.

“Fuck,” you mutter, pulling back a little, caught off guard. “You scared me.”

She grins. “I said your name twice. Thought you died standing up.”

You force a breath through your nose, trying to ease the tension from your shoulders. “Sorry. I zoned out.”

“Clearly,” Kiara says, folding her arms as she leans back against the island across from you. “You were staring at that coffee like you were possessed or something.”

You glance back down at Jungkook’s mug. The coffee inside has gone a dull, murky brown. It's oddly fitting.

“Just thinking,” you murmur.

Kiara gives you a long look, tilting her head slightly. She doesn’t say anything at first. Just watches.

You expect her to pivot the conversation, maybe ask what time you’re heading to the beach, or what’s for breakfast.

But she doesn’t.

Instead, she says, softer now, “Is everything okay with you and Jungkook?”

Your stomach drops, and you're too slow to catch the surprise on your face before it shows.

She doesn’t look accusatory. Just curious. Maybe a little concerned.

You think about what Jungkook said — that your acting sucks.

Clearly, he was more right than you gave him credit for if this is the second time someone has thought that something was off between you two.

You give Kiara a tight smile, trying to play it off. “Of course we’re okay. Why wouldn’t we be?”

Your voice cracks slightly at the end and Kiara’s face shifts. Her eyes narrow, expression flattening just a little.

God. You suck at this.

She doesn’t say anything. Just looks at you.

And when you glance past her, you realise Ari and Yasmine are both in the kitchen now too. You didn’t even hear them come in. They're hovering by the counter, not pretending they didn’t hear the conversation. Yasmine raises her eyebrows at you as if to say, Really? That’s the best you’ve got?

You laugh, the sound a little too loud and a little too fake.

“No, seriously. There’s nothing going on. We’re totally fine,” you insist. You try to make it sound breezy, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. But there’s this edge of strain in your tone that even you can hear now.

Yasmine exchanges a quick glance with Ari. Ari raises a single brow.

“____,” Kiara says, and her voice almost sympathetic. “We love you to death. If anything if going on, you can tell us. We will fight that man if needed.”

You snort at the ridiculousness of the offer, trying to ignore the way they're all watching you.

“Okay, maybe don’t plan my best friend’s murder right in front of me,” Jimin says around a half-yawn, wandering into the kitchen. His hair is a mess — flattened on one side and fluffy on the other — and his hoodie is inside out. His expression, though, is amused as hell.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. It’s half a laugh, really — short and quiet, but enough to break the tension hanging over you. Your shoulders drop just slightly.

“No one said murder,” Kiara replies, looking entirely unbothered. “We said ‘fight.’ With fists. Maybe knees.”

“Maybe a little arson,” Yasmine adds, chewing on the edge of a strawberry she pulled from the fridge.

Jimin walks past them and reaches up to grab a granola bar from the top shelf. “You know I’m contractually obligated to defend Jungkook’s honour,” he says through a yawn, unwrapping the bar. “Even if he’s being an idiot. Which, to be fair, is frequent.”

“Then maybe pass that message along,” Ari says, deadpan.

He finally glances toward you then, eyes briefly scanning your face. He doesn’t say anything — and thankfully, he doesn’t ask — but something in his expression softens. Like he can see the way you’re slightly curled in on yourself, even if you’re trying to fake calm.

The semi-circle of concern around you shifts a little to make room for him, and he steps into it without hesitation, granola bar still in hand. It’s oddly comforting, how casually he folds into the space — like maybe if he acts normal, things will be normal.

And you’re grateful for it. The way attention slides off you and onto Jimin’s sudden presence.

You sip your coffee again, and it tastes slightly better now. Or maybe it’s just that your heart’s not pounding against your ribs anymore.

“Actually, I actually need to tell you guys something,” Jimin says once he’s halfway through the bar, mouth still kind of full. “Before everyone disappears into the sand for the rest of the day.”

You tilt your head, turning slightly more in his direction.

Jimin finishes chewing, wipes his hands on the front of his hoodie — inside-out tag flipping up in the process — and leans casually against the counter.

“Okay,” he starts, tone turning slightly serious. “This doesn’t leave this room. At least not yet.”

Immediately, all of you perk up.

“Oh my god,” Kiara says, leaning in. “Are we finally getting the tea?”

“Someone’s pregnant,” Yasmine whispers like it’s a wild theory, eyes wide.

“Wrong group,” Ari deadpans.

You snort.

“No one’s pregnant,” Jimin says. “But something is happening. And it’s big. So, swear you won’t say anything to Haeun.”

You all nod in varying degrees of seriousness. A chorus of “obviously” and “duh”s.

“Seokjin’s proposing.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence. Not because no one saw it coming — but because even when you expect something, hearing it said out loud hits differently.

“No way,” Ari breathes.

“Finally,” Yasmine grins, clapping once. “She’s going to lose it.”

“I knew it,” Kiara says, not even pretending to be surprised. “He’s been acting weird since we got here.”

“Super obvious,” Ari agrees. “He kept spacing out yesterday during volleyball. I asked him if he was okay and he just said, ‘Just picturing things.’ I thought he meant, like… strategy?”

You set your coffee down, half-smiling. “That man has never strategised a day in his life.”

Jimin nods, serious. “Exactly. So, the plan is— he’s doing it the day after tomorrow. Right at sunset. On the back deck. He wants to keep it lowkey but still romantic. Just the group, nothing flashy. He’s got this whole thing with the fairy lights and stuff. It’s very... Jin.”

Yasmine clasps her hands together with a little squeal. “Do we get to be part of it?”

“Yeah,” he says, glancing at her. “Actually, he wants you to take pictures. Nothing major. Just candids. And the rest of us just need to, like, not make it weird.”

“What do you mean not make it weird?” Ari asks.

“I mean like… don’t swarm them,” Jimin says. “Don’t make it a whole scene. Just let it happen and then we can scream after she says yes.”

You all nod.

“God, they’re gonna be so annoying and in love,” Kiara sighs. “Good for them. Can’t wait.”

Jimin’s expression softens as he talks — and you can tell how much this means to him. How long he’s probably been sitting on it. How relieved he is to finally let it out. He’s one of Jin’s closest friends — the fact that Jin looped him in says everything.

“Wait, does Haeun know anything?” Ari asks.

“Not a clue,” Jimin says, grinning. “She thinks she’s just getting a sunset drink on the deck with Jin tomorrow before dinner. Meanwhile, he’s been carrying around the ring like it’s a live bomb.”

“She’s gonna be a mess,” you say quietly, voice warm.

"They're both gonna be a mess," Kiara replies, and you smile.

Honestly, it feels good to think about something else — to imagine someone else’s future for a while. One that's good and certain.

Not murky. Not lukewarm. Not tangled up in old habits and unfinished questions.

And just as that lightness settles in — just as you feel your chest unclench, just a little — the glass doors behind you slide open with a low hiss.

Everyone freezes.

The sliding door clicks back into place, the sound of it too sharp in the sudden stillness. Jimin’s eyes dart past you. Kiara, mid-sip of her drink, lowers her glass. No one says anything.

Your breath catches as you look over Yasmine's shoulder.

Please not Haeun, you think. Pleasepleaseplease.

Jungkook.

Helmet in one hand, motorbike keys hooked around two fingers on the other.

You're heart tugs with relief.

You’re glad he’s here.

Not because things are fine. Not because you know what you’re going to say. But because not knowing where he was all morning had started to eat at you, slow and annoying and persistent. Like something you couldn’t scratch out of your skin.

Jimin’s the first to speak.

“Fuck, man,” he says, twisting toward the door. “You scared the shit out of me. I thought you were Haeun.”

Jungkook’s mouth twitches, the barest hint of a smile. “Sorry.”

He steps further into the kitchen, the door soft-clicking shut behind him, and sets the helmet down on the island with a dull thud. The keys land beside it with a jingle. The whole group relaxes and the conversation starts backs up, but you’re barely tracking it.

Your eyes stay on Jungkook.

And his eyes don’t quite stay on you, but they flicker. Once. Then back down.

He moves to the cabinet and pulls out a mug from the same shelf you used earlier.

You pause, glancing at the mug still sitting beside your own on the counter. You hesitate for a second before you slide it toward him with your fingertips.

“Here,” you say. “I made one for you already.”

He pauses mid-motion, the clean mug in his hand, and his eyes drop to the one you nudged forward, then back up at you.

“I’m fine. Thanks though." He gives you a tight-lipped smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

Oh.

Okay.

Maybe he just wants tea or something. You've never known him to be a tea person, but you don't dwell on it that much.

You're already moving to shrug it off when you catch a glance — just over the rim of your mug — of him moving back toward the coffee pot, and you watch, with a slow-burning disbelief, as he starts making the exact same cup of coffee that’s still sitting in front of him.

Same brand. Same scoop. Same splash of milk from the fridge. He reaches for the sugar and adds the same amount.

You stare.

Seriously?

You don’t say it out loud, but it hovers in your expression. Long enough that Ari, who’s been half-listening while peeling a clementine beside you, gives you the smallest nudge with her elbow.

You don’t even glance at her.

Your eyes are still on Jungkook.

He doesn’t notice. Or if he does, he doesn’t care.

The air shifts around you and it feels like you’ve suddenly dropped into a scene you weren’t given the script for. Because it’s not about the coffee, really. It’s never just about the coffee.

It’s about how easily he dismissed it. Dismissed you so easily, as if you were nothing more than a stranger.

And maybe it’s petty, but come on. You made that cup for him. It wasn’t some random gesture. You got up, went through the routine, thought about what he’d want, even left it sitting there like a peace offering. And he’d rather go through the whole process again himself than take what you’d already done for him?

Fine.

You sip your own drink again, and try tune back into the conversation.

Jimin is talking about how Seokjin tried to smuggle the ring through airport security without Haeun seeing. Kiara makes a joke about hiding it in his shampoo bottle. Yasmine laughs so hard she nearly drops her bowl of strawberries.

And for a moment, it’s fine.

You even smile a little. Force yourself to pull your eyes away from Jungkook and land somewhere safer — like Jimin’s dramatic re-enactment of Seokjin’s TSA panic face.

But when your gaze flicks back, just for a second, you find Jungkook leaning against the opposite counter, sipping his freshly made coffee like he didn’t just say a whole lot by saying nothing.

And you don’t say anything either. Because what are you going to do — call him out for rejecting your cup of coffee?

So you let the conversation keep moving. You nod along. You laugh in the right places. You keep your expression neutral. Maybe a little too neutral.

But your jaw is just the tiniest bit tight. And your fingers wrap around your mug a little firmer than before.

Guess you weren't just overthinking after all.

The rain starts as a mist before quickly turning into a steady downpour.

You and Haeun are halfway back from the beach by the time it hits properly. She doesn’t bother running, and neither do you. You just glance up once at the thick, grey sky and laugh a little under your breath. She grins beside you, jogging lightly as she shakes water out of her ponytail.

“I told you it was going to rain,” she says, smug.

You’d been adamant about it, insisting that it would be warm as usual when you asked Haeun to come swim with you. She’d shown you her weather app and you’d waved it off with a dramatic, “Those things are never right.” Now, soaked halfway to the bone and blinking through the drizzle, you’re starting to eat your words.

"Yeah yeah, whatever."

By the time you step inside the house through the glass sliding doors, your legs are lightly dusted with sand and your hair is sticking to the sides of your neck, still damp from the ocean, and now slightly tangled from the breeze.

It’s warmer in the house, and for the first time since the trip started, everyone is inside. No one has slipped off to the beach or disappeared with a book to some random corner of the deck.

You brush your fingers through your hair absently as you kick off your flip flops near the threshold. Haeun’s already moved toward the kitchen, mumbling something about tea, leaving you to linger for a second by the open space where the wooden floor transitions into the living room rug.

Jimin and Taehyung are on the floor by the coffee table, throwing popcorn into each other’s mouths with miserable aim and laughing at their failures. Ari’s curled up with Namjoon on one end of the abnormally large couch that takes up almost half of the room, the two of them watching something muted on the TV while Kiara and Yasmine scroll through their phones on the floor beside them, bickering about which photos to post later.

And there's Jungkook.

He's sitting on the other end of the couch, knees propped up, thumbing idly through something on his phone.

He looks calm. Not relaxed, exactly — Jungkook doesn’t really do relaxed when he’s spaced out, but his shoulders aren’t hunched like they were this morning, and his jaw isn’t clenched. He just sits there scrolling.

You hadn’t seen him on the beach. You’re not even sure where he’d gone off to all morning, after the coffee exchange that had been awkward enough to replay itself in your brain on loop.

It’s not that you’re trying to obsess, but it’s hard not to notice when someone you used to know inside out starts moving like a stranger.

You take a slow breath, brushing your hand down your thigh once — a nervous gesture you don’t bother disguising — and cross the rest of the living room, stepping carefully over Taehyung’s outstretched legs as you make your way toward the couch.

There’s an open space beside Jungkook and you decide take it.

But before you can even properly sit down or bring up your knees to get comfortable, Jungkook's already standing.

You watch as he crosses the living room and drops down into the armchair beside Yoongi without a single word, disbelief painting your features for a second before reel your expression back to neutral.

You don’t look at anyone.

You definitely don’t look at Jungkook.

Instead, you keep your gaze pinned to the muted television in front of you — some vaguely familiar movie playing with the subtitles on — and try to ignore the way your heartbeat has picked up in your ears.

It’s not a big deal. Not technically. Maybe he just wanted to sit by Yoongi. Maybe you’re reading too much into it. Again.

But still.

Still.

You cross one leg over the other, trying to breathe through the stiffness now crawling up the back of your neck. You can feel a strand of hair clinging to your collarbone. You reach up and tuck it behind your ear just to do something with your hands.

“Hey,” Jimin says suddenly from the floor, glancing back toward you, “you two get caught in the rain?”

You force your mouth into a small smile. “A little.”

“Dumbasses,” Taehyung says fondly, tossing a kernel of popcorn that smacks Jimin square in the cheek. “Told you it was gonna pour.”

“It’s barely even raining,” Haeun calls from the kitchen, voice slightly muffled from the distance.

You hum in agreement, mostly to say something, but your voice barely makes it out. You don’t think anyone notices.

Except maybe Kiara, who glances at you briefly from the corner of her eye. She doesn’t say anything, but it’s enough to make you shift in your seat.

You try not to look again. At him.

You fail.

Jungkook’s posture hasn’t changed — one arm resting on the armrest, the other slung low in his lap. He’s facing the TV, but his gaze isn’t fixed on anything in particular.

This isn’t normal. Not even close.

Not that anything has been normal since the breakup, but this is different. Cold in a way he’s never been with you — even when you fought. Even when you broke up.

It’s the kind of distance that doesn’t come from anger. It’s more deliberate than that.

And you really don’t know what you did to deserve it.

The rain doesn’t last. It trails off sometime after the movie ends — not that you can remember a single scene of it — and by the time it does, the sky outside is starting to dip in colour.

You keep your eyes on your hands, loosely folded in your lap, while the rest of the group starts to migrate back outside into the pool and the beach. Someone tugs open the back door and lets the salt-heavy breeze rush back in. Kiara walks past and ruffles your hair lightly, says something about joining them soon. You nod, even though you’re not sure you will.

You don’t even register Jungkook until he’s moving past the arm of the couch.

“Jungkook,” you say.

He stops just in front of the door to the front.

He doesn’t turn fully. Just glances over his shoulder, enough to let you know he heard.

You stand before your courage can second-guess you. “Can we talk?”

A beat of silence passes. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, but doesn’t look at you.

“I don’t think there’s much to talk about.”

It takes you a second to process his words.

“What?” you ask, brows knitting.

“I just—” Jungkook shifts, hand flexing at his side like he’s trying not to clench it. “I think we’re handling things fine. Everyone still believes us, right? That’s the whole point.”

You stare at him.

“That’s not what I meant.”

He exhales, but doesn't respond.

“I’m not talking about the deal. I’m talking about you— us— and the fact that you’ve been ignoring me all day.”

“I haven’t—”

“Yes, you have,” you cut in, voice firmer now. “You wouldn’t even look at me this morning. You’ve barely said more than three words since last night.”

“I thought you wanted space,” he says quietly, finally turning around to face you. “I figured, after yesterday, that it’d be easier if I just gave you room.”

“Easier?” you echo. “For who?”

He swallows. His gaze drops. You can see the tension in the way his shoulders pull in slightly, like he’s trying to fold himself smaller.

“I’m just trying not to make this harder than it already is."

Your chest tightens, something sharp rising behind your ribs. There’s a line between being careful and being cowardly, and you don’t know when Jungkook crossed it — only that he’s already miles past it now, still walking away from a conversation he won’t even let you have.

“And moving when I sit beside you— what’s that supposed to be?” you ask. “Because if that’s you being careful, it really fucking sucks.”

His jaw twitches.

“It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like, Jungkook? Because you’re not talking to me. You won’t even look at me.”

His lips part like he wants to say something before he stops himself.

You wait, but he doesn’t answer.

He just stands there in silence, eyes unreadable, like he’s scared whatever comes out of his mouth next will be the wrong thing.

And that frustrates you more than anything else.

Because you just want the truth, not silence. Even if it hurts. Even if it means hearing him say that he doesn't love you anymore. Because at least, then you’d know.

You cross your arms slowly, swallowing the lump that has started forming in your throat.

“You can’t just fucking kiss me one day and ignore me the next.”

“Look, I’m—” He exhales harshly. “I’m sorry the kiss didn’t mean anything, okay?

You freeze.

Something inside you falters, buckles under the weight of it. You try to breathe around the burn clawing up your throat, but the room suddenly feels too stuffy.

You press your nails into your palms. You can feel your pulse there — quick, shallow, and it’s the only thing anchoring you to the moment. You don't trust yourself to speak, so you don't.

Jungkook's voice is soft when he eventually speaks. “We only have to do this shit for one more day. That’s it. I’ll stay out of your way until then, and when it’s over, we can pack our bags, go home, and you never have to talk to me again.”

You stand there for half a second too long. Long enough for the silence to feel thick again. Long enough to think — maybe he’ll take it back, or stop you. Maybe he’ll say something else.

But he doesn’t, so you turn.

You walk away, footsteps too loud against the hardwood. Your throat is tight, your chest worse. You make your way outside and up the stairs into you room, shutting the door with a quiet click — not because you're calm, but because slamming it would mean he still matters enough to make you angry.

And right now, you're trying not to let him matter at all.

You sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the blank wall, trying to will yourself not to cry.

You don’t win that one. Not completely.

But you wipe away your tears before they can stain your face, because if anyone comes looking, you’ll lie. If he comes looking, you won’t open the door.

Still, you wait for the sound of footsteps outside the room.

None come.

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[wannaghostbts]

There's magic in the room!~ Tell me do you feel it too!~

• You had been ready for the end of the semester. You had been ready to spend time away from your best friend, Jimin, and finally move on from the feelings you harbored. Yet, after your friend was forced to reveal a secret, you found yourself in a new world that was chock full of magic, war, and wonder. So, here you were, basically thrown into your own fantasy novel, with your best friend on one side, and six male warriors on the other.

{Moodboard} {Character Profiles} {Playlist}

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8.1 | Chapter 8.2 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 | Chapter 26 | Epilogue

[BTS masterlist] | [full masterlist]

[bubblyi3]

Residuals PART 3 | JJK

"you were always the ��what if’ in the back of his mind."

genre: childhood best friends, lovers to enemies to strangers, fratboy!jungkook, heartbreak, uni!au

word count: 16.5k

content warning: angst, mild smut, mild languages

summary: jungkook used to be your everything. your best friend, your first love. but you both grew up and grew apart. he’s now the campus heartbreaker, a cocky frat boy who runs with the worst crowd. when a cruel dare asks him to destroy you just for the fun of it. everything shatters. trust. hearts. and maybe the chance to ever put it back together.

author's note: hiiiiii everyone!! so sorry it took forever to update, but the long awaited part 3 is finally here 🤍 TAGLIST IS NOW CLOSED <3 there's so many of you on it... that’s insane :o anyways the angst still isn’t over 😭 but thank you so so much to everyone who’s been keeping up with this series (and my other stuff too) it honestly means the world to me :) ᶦᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵠᵘᶦⁿᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉʸᵉˢ ᵃ ᵇᶦᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵃ ᵖᵒᵗᵉⁿᵗᶦᵃˡ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵗʳᶦᵃⁿᵍˡᵉ ᶦⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵃᵏᶦⁿᵍ… ᵐᵃʸᵇᵉ… ᵐᵃʸᵇᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ

if there are any grammar mistakes, i apologise in advance 😅 anyways happy reading ✨ and pls do send me more of your thoughts and opinions 💭❤️ i love reading them and responding to you all 😊💬💖 :)))

© disclaimer: please do not copy, translate or reproduce any part of this work without my permission. thank you!

PROLOGUE || PART 1 || PART 2

🏷️ taglist: @whoa-jo / @username23345 / @kelsyx33 / @toosweetforyall / @junniesoleilkth / @literallyjimin / @jeeykey / @stars4kooo / @delulutofr / @smoljimjim / @elithenium / @mysoulherofriend / @ukndtwme / @somehowukook / @songbyeonkim / @miakay98 / @sundains / @bjoriis / @kooever / @dragonflygurl4 / @labbbaaa / @cherricherryy / @jeongguks-posts / @rexana19 / @ppeachyttae / @ssbb-22 / @anydzia / @multifanbigbang / @fairyflorasworld / @miakay98 / @taetaecatboy / @mangify / @lachimolalajeon / @mikrokosmosellen / @blueberriesm / @aliceinthewornderland / @taebreezs / @yunhoswrldddd / @ayecannot / @aestheticalime / @llallaaa / @softchannie / @nikilig / @amarawayne / @vinylphwoar / @gizaspicebag / @jkwritez / @prettyjmsworld / @00frenchfries00 / @ennvfv / @bhonbhon / @kissyfacekoo / @alextgef / @zorj4yrk / @roguesthetic / @avawants2havefun / @hoelychildofgod

[ꜰʟᴀꜱʜʙᴀᴄᴋ] His fingers closed around the cold neck of a beer bottle that someone handed him. It was a simple gesture, but one that anchored him to the moment, and made him feel a little least invisible. The condensation slipped down onto his skin, grounding him in something real, something physical, while his mind buzzed with everything he was trying to ignore. You. 

Jungkook could feel the bass thumping through the floor, see the blur of bodies moving in and out of the living room, the warmth of alcohol loosening conversations around him that he wasn’t really part of. He wasn’t sure why he came tonight. But Jimin had insisted he should come and meet the guys. 

From his perspective, if a friend group had a label, Kim Namjoon would be the leader. The young man looked steady, observant, and he was instinctively respected by everyone, without him ever needing to say much. Namjoon leaned forward from where he sat on the armrest of the couch, eyes settling on Jungkook. “So, what are you studying man?” 

Jungkook blinked, startled by the sudden question, then gave a small shrug. “Majoring in film production.” 

Namjoon’s face lit up with an easy approval. “That’s awesome, man. Are you looking to direct in the future or…?” 

“I don’t know yet,” Jungkook said, settling down the beer bottle on the small coffee table in front. “Something behind the camera, maybe. Cinematography, editing. I like building things from the background.” 

There was a pause. A small, knowing hum from Namjoon. 

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “You seem like someone who notices the details. The stuff most people miss. That’s what makes films good, y’know?” 

Jungkook didn’t respond right away. He wasn’t used to being seen like that. Especially not by someone he barely knew. His default was to shrink back, to play it cool. But there was something disarming about Namjoon’s tone. Like he wasn’t trying to impress anyone, and that’s something Jungkook secretly envied. 

Jungkook murmured a soft 'Thanks,' his fingers brushing the bottle on the table before he took a slow sip. The taste was sharp, almost sour, but it was enough to ground him, distracting from the tightness in his chest.

Across the room, someone laughed too loudly, and another song took over the playlist, its bass vibrating through the floor. For a moment, Jungkook let the noise wash over him, pretending things were simpler than they were. Pretending he didn’t feel like he was being pulled in two directions. He cares about you… he really does. That was never in question. But sometimes, that care felt more like a duty than a choice. That care came layered with so many expectations. From his parents, from yours, from everyone who ever saw you two side by side and assumed it was only a matter of time. As if love was something that came with a checklist. 

And then there was everything else. The uni experience, the friends, the freedom, the girls, the version of himself he hadn’t fully lived yet. The late nights, the recklessness, the adrenaline of being young and answerable to no one. He knew he was supposed to be better than that, but part of him craved the chaos. 

You made him better, and that terrifies him. Because you also made him vulnerable. And no one else could touch that soft, exposed part of him… not even himself. And then just as if Jungkook knew that the silence was a bit obvious now and how he lost he was in his own thoughts. He gave a small shake of his head and turned to Namjoon. 

“How about you?” Jungkook asked, more to fill the space than from any real curiosity. 

Namjoon smiled, tipping his bottle toward Jungkook before answering. “In my third year in Psych. Planning to go into counseling eventually. I wanna help people figure out their mess.” 

Jungkook let out a dry chuckle. “That’s heavy.” 

"Yeah," Namjoon agreed, leaning back. "But I think it’s kind of worth it... Humans are so complex, you know? It’s fascinating, and then there are moments where it’s just like, 'What the fuck?'"

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was brief, the atmosphere shifting again as if someone had flipped a switch. Another guy, grinning just across from Jungkook, jerked his chin toward the girl Taehyung had just been making out with. “Yo, ever fucked someone that hot before?” At that moment, Jungkook's surroundings started becoming clearler as Namjoon wasn’t the only person keeping him company, there were others. Observing and listening. 

 The room erupted in hoots, whistles, laughter that felt sharp around the edges. 

Jungkook froze. The question landed like a punch he hadn’t braced for. He opened his mouth, but no words came. Until Jimin, quick and composed, stepped in. “Hey, JK’s got a girl, alright?” His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through the noise.

All eyes turned to Jungkook. 

He swallowed and forced a steady breath. “Yeah. Y/n. She’s my childhood bestfriend. She also studies here… we’re not together or anything. But I care about her. A lot.” 

The room slightly quited as if they hadn’t expected the sincerity. Jimin gave him a short nod, one that said I’ve got your back, even if his eyes flickered with something else. Guilt, maybe. Or something close to it.

Hoseok, ever the provocateur, smirked from the couch and nudged him. “So... is she hot?”

Jungkook blinked, a little thrown by the pivot, but answered without hesitation. “She’s more than that. She’s beautiful. Inside and out.”

One of the guys exchanged a look with another, like maybe Jungkook had missed the tone of the conversation. But Jimin’s expression shifted. It was less teasing now, more proud. Like he didn’t expext Jungkook to say it, but was glad he did. 

“That’s actually kinda cute,” Yoongi laughed, shaking their head. 

“Yeah, man,” Jin chimed in, grinning. “You’ve got it easy. A childhood bestfriend and a girlfriend if you ever feel like calling it that. Built-in relationship… practically arranged marriage, huh?” 

The guys laughed, but the comment hit something deeper in Jungkook. Because it wasn’t far off. 

He hadn’t thought about it in a while, but suddenly he was back in his hallway, no older than thirteen, pausing at the corner when he heard both your mums talking in the living room. The door was slightly ajar, the warm hum of their voices drifting out with the smell of dinner.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if they ended up together?”

“Oh, I’ve thought about it more than once. They’re so close already. It just makes sense, doesn’t it?” 

“They balance each other out. Jungkook’s a little wild, and Y/n grounds him. And she lights up whenever he’s around.” 

He hadn’t known what to make of it back then. Just flushed, embarrassed, unsure if it was something he was supposed to want too. And now, years later, it lingered in the back of his mind like a ghost that never really left.  

Namjoon leaned in again, but his voice had changed. No longer friendly, but testing. “That is cute. But if you’re thinking of hanging with us more, man… might wanna rethink that. With us? Girls are just noise. Drama. Mind games.” 

Jungkook’s jaw tightened. He looked down at his beer for a second before shaking his head, calm but firm. “Y/n’s not like that. I trust her.”

Jimin gave him a quiet, approving smile. But Jungkook caught the way his eyes dropped after, guilt shadowing them like a secret not yet confessed.

Namjoon raised his bottle, tilting it slightly with a smirk. “It’s bros before hoes around here, like it or not.”

The words hit the room like a dare. Everyone exchanged grins, waiting to see if Jungkook would fall in line.

Hoseok leaned, his tone slick and easy. “Think about it, man. Why get tied down? Girls are just trouble. They’re clingy, insecure, cheating messes. We’ve all been burned. It’s easier when it’s just casual, no mess, no strings.” 

Jungkook glanced around the circle of grins, half-baked wisdom, and barely concealed resentment.

“Alright, JK… why don’t you bring her around?” Namjoon said, gesturing to the group. “We wanna see what all the fuss is about.”

Jungkook didn’t answer right away.

There was a pause. Just a few seconds too long. The kind that made it obvious he was thinking too hard. His fingers curled tighter around the bottle again, knuckles whitening ever so slightly. He could still hear the music, the bass thrumming beneath his feet like a heartbeat he couldn’t shut out. But it all felt distant now. Muted.

Bring you around?

It should’ve been a simple request. Hell, if this were any other moment, any other group, he might’ve said sure and left it at that. You would’ve smiled at them, probably brought a snack to share, maybe even teased Jungkook in front of them and made it all feel easy.

But this didn’t feel easy.

But then, just as quickly, the version of himself that always felt like he had something to prove kicked in. The part that hated silence more than confrontation. The part that didn’t want to seem like he had anything to hide.

So Jungkook exhaled through his nose, forced his jaw to unclench, and gave a small shrug. “Sure,” he said, with a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Jungkook stayed frozen on the edge of his bed for a long while, phone still glowing in his palm, the words from the group chat staring back at him like vultures circling.

His thumb hovered over the keyboard. The urge to shut it all down, to tell them to fuck off, to admit that this wasn’t just a game, was strong. A flicker of something real sparked deep in his chest.

But just as fast, his pride doused it.

Because the moment he admitted that the kiss meant something… that you still meant something… was the moment he handed them power. Gave them reason to question him. And he couldn’t afford that. Not when everything about his place in that group, hinged on keeping up the version of himself they expected.

The unshakable, unbothered golden boy. Wasn’t this what he wanted? To feel free? To dive into the party life, the girls, the games? To never be tied down by anyone or anything, to live on his terms without the weight of expectations or the messy emotions that came with real connections?

Jungkook swallowed the lump in his throat and leaned back, tossing his phone on the mattress like it burned him. He stared at the ceiling, jaw tight.

You were different now. Stronger. Softer in ways that made his chest ache and harder in ways that reminded him he couldn’t reach you like he used to.

And yet, despite the distance and time, you still let him in. You still kissed him back. It felt hesitant, unsure... but you did.

Was that love?

Or just muscle memory?

He didn’t want to think about it.

Not when it complicated everything.

He wasn’t ready for complicated. He wasn’t ready for you.

What he was ready for was the game. The one they all expected him to win. The one he said he didn’t care about, but still hadn’t walked away from.

So, he grabbed his phone again, shaking off the urge to just ignore the chat entirely.

Jungkook typed slowly, carefully choosing his words.

[Jungkook]: She kissed me back. Easy.

He hit send. Delivered. Read.

A fresh wave of messages followed. Laughing emojis. Shit talk. Praise. Hoseok even dropped a gif of someone fake bowing in admiration. And Jungkook laid there, letting it all wash over him, blank-faced.

The truth was, it wasn’t easy.

It felt like shit.

But none of them needed to know that.

This version of Jungkook. Frat Jungkook, ego Jungkook. He was untouchable. Confident. Cruel, if he had to be. And for now, he had to be.

Because if he stopped and let the real Jungkook through. The one who still remembered your favorite snack, the one who used to race you home from school just to see you smile when he let you win. The one who you've seen cried at the end of sad movies. He’d break.

And breaking was not an option.

He got up, stripped off his hoodie, and headed to the bathroom, trying to shake the feel of your lips from his skin, like maybe a cold splash of water could cleanse him of the guilt.

But it clung to him. Silent. Invisible.

That kiss had felt like something.

But tonight, he’d pretend it wasn’t.

And tomorrow, he’d keep playing the part. Because his pride still mattered more than the truth.

And his ego?

Still louder than his heart.

The days crept by, and Jungkook still had no idea how the hell he was supposed to fix what he broke. Whatever this had become. How to get you back on his radar, to look you in the eyes again without feeling like a stranger in a place that once felt like home. It wasn't just miscommunication or time apart. It wasn't subtle. Not a flinch or a misread. It was because he crossed a line.

A line that had always been blurry between you two, but still unspoken. At the night he kissed you, everything changed.

He knew why you were avoiding him. And you were good at it, too.

He’d catch glimpses of you through your bedroom window, hear your footsteps upstairs when he stopped by with his parents for dinner or a chat. But you always found a way to slip out of reach. Like tonight, Jungkook had come over with his parents. The kind of casual weeknight dinner that used to mean movie nights, teasing over who got the last piece of chicken, and you curled up next to him on the couch like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And your mum who's always composed and always warm, placed a dish on the dining table with that same practiced smile. "Y/n had an early dinner. She's in her room studying… or doing God knows what."

"Or sleeping," your dad added, chuckling softly as he poured himself a drink.

Jungkook had forced a smile. He didn’t say what he was thinking, that he knew you weren’t sleeping. That he’d heard your desk chair scrape against the floor a few minutes ago from upstairs or some faint mumbling going on behind your door.

Anyways it was clear to Jungkook you were avoiding him... not dinner, not studying.

“Kook, did your mum mention anything about Mrs. Kwon’s retirement party at the community hall?” your mum asked casually, reaching across to top up the banchan.

“Oh! That totally slipped my mind,” his mum said, letting out a soft laugh as she covered her mouth, still chewing on a bite of japchae.

Jungkook blinked. “Mrs. Kwon?” he repeated, brow slightly furrowed. He glanced at his own mum beside him, who gave a small nod as she sipped her tea.

But then it clicked.

Oh.

Mrs. Kwon.

His eyes softened with recognition.

She was you and Jungkook's old elementary school teacher. The one who used to call you two the twins even though you looked nothing alike. Who would jokingly separate your seats because “one giggle from her and you’re both done for.” The same Mrs. Kwon who became a close friend to both your mums after you graduated.

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, letting the memory settle. “She’s retiring?” he asked, still surprised. “Isn’t she still pretty young?”

His dad gave a small smile. “She is. But I think she just wants more time for herself. Travel, pottery classes, yoga retreats. She said she’s done wrangling kids and chalk dust.”

“Honestly,” your dad added with a laugh from the other end of the room, “she’s earned it. Thirty years of dealing with other people’s kids? I would’ve retired ten years ago.”

Jungkook shook his head with a grin. “Man. It's been so long. Those were the good old days.”

Your mum’s gaze lingered on him for a moment longer than necessary. “You know she still asks about you and Y/n."

Jungkook froze for half a beat, then glanced toward the staircase.

His voice was softer when he spoke again. “Yeah?”

“She’s always had a soft spot for the both of you,” his mum said. “Said it was nice, watching two kids grow up so close.”

Jungkook didn’t reply right away.

Just traced his thumb over the edge of his glass and let the quiet speak.

“So, about the retirement party,” your mum began, glancing between Jungkook and everyone else at the table. “It’d be great if you and Y/n could run a few errands this Friday. Pick up some things from the list, decorations, maybe a cake or even a gift from both of you.”

“Don’t worry too much about the food,” she added. “Your mum and I have that covered.”

“As for the invitations,” his mum chimed in, gesturing with her chopsticks, “We’ll leave that to the old men. Your dad and Y/n’s. They’ll take care of getting the word out. Just make sure we invite as many locals as we can... anyone who knew Mrs. Kwon.”

Jungkook, quietly sipping his soup, hummed in response.

“Would you be alright to help, Jungkook?” your mum asked, turning to him. “Or will you be too caught up with uni work?”

He paused, lowering his spoon.

Technically, yes. He had a deadline this week for a film analysis report in which he yet needed to finish. But this? This was an opportunity. He wasn’t dumb. This was the perfect excuse to pull you out of your room… and into his space.

Driving around together. Picking out party supplies. Arguing over whether to go with a chocolate cake or something fancier. A chance to chip away at whatever wall you were building, without making it obvious he cared enough to try.

“Actually,” he added, more confidently now, “it sounds like a good way to take a break from studying.... I’m keen.”

There was a beat of silence, then your mum gave a pleased smile and nodded. "I'll let Y/n know."

And Jungkook just nodded back, reaching for his glass of water, fingers curling gently around it as if grounding himself.

He didn’t let his face show anything. But his heart?

It was already upstairs.

Waiting. Wondering that maybe somewhere, buried beneath the silence and space. He was still in there. In your heart. Even if you didn’t know what to do with him anymore.

It was now the first Thursday of the semester break, and you still had another full week before uni started up again. A whole week left to keep avoiding him, to sit with your feelings.

You’d tried everything to stay distracted. Kept your head down, nose buried in business assignments. You were now halfway through your marketing research paper. Highlighting sentences you’d probably have to reread anyway. You have even reorganized your folders and colour-coded your calendar. Just for the illusion of control.

You knew Jungkook had come over for dinner with his parents last night. You'd made sure to eat something earlier to avoid being tempted. But as the evening wore on, the delicious smell of your mom’s cooking wafted upstairs, and your stomach betrayed you. Reminding you just how hungry you actually were.

Still, you stayed put. Ear pressed half-heartedly to your pillow, mind tuned in to every laugh from downstairs, every familiar voice drifting through the walls. It felt wrong, this strange game of hide-and-seek in your own house. But you couldn’t bring yourself to face him.

You tried to ignore it, pushing the hunger aside as you waited for him and his parents to leave. The moment the front door clicked shut and silence settled again, you crept out of your room and rushed downstairs to raid the kitchen for leftovers.

Ever since that kiss, Jungkook's been louder than usual. Some nights his music blares through the walls, followed by bursts of laughter at whatever he's watching. You've laid in bed more than once thinking, What the hell is he on?

You wanted to text him, Tell him to keep it down.

But no. You're not going to be the first to cave.

You'd rather call noise control than send him a message.

Which brings you to now. Sitting in front of your laptop, and on the other end of the video call, Hana’s jaw drops, eyes bulging in disbelief.

“He did what now?!” she nearly shrieks, sloshing her drink dangerously close to the edge.

You flinch. “Shhh!” you hiss, immediately glancing toward your door. The last thing you needed was your parents overhearing this conversation.

Without another word, you slip up from your chair and quietly close the door, pressing it shut like sealing off a secret.

“Hana, seriously, keep your voice down.”

“No, because what the actual fuck,” she fires back, already too far gone. “Jungkook kissed you? Your Jungkook? The same one who’s been acting like you don’t exist and probably collecting STDs like Pokémon cards?”

You groan, dragging a hand down your face. “Can you not call him ‘my Jungkook’? He’s not my anything.”

Hana narrows her eyes at you. “Oh no. Don’t do that thing where you downplay it. Start talking. How, when, where?”

You sigh, defeated. “It was after my Halmoni’s house. He drove me home. We barely said a word the whole ride, and then he just pulled over. No warning. Just looked at me like… like he didn’t know who I was, or maybe he did and hated it. Then he kissed me.”

There’s a long pause on the other end of the call. Hana blinks, “And?”

“And I kissed him back. For a second.” You exhale, voice small. “I let it happen. I don’t even know why. Then I snapped out of it and told him he doesn’t get to do that. He dropped me home and left.”

Hana stares. “You’re telling me that the human disaster who ghosted you on your birthday, humiliated you in front of his dumbass frat friends, and ignored you for months just waltzed back into your life and kissed you like nothing happened?”

You shrug, half-hearted. "Yeah. Pretty much."

Hana leans in closer to the camera, her eyes narrowed. "Okay, this guy does not get to make you his unfinished business."

You blink. "I know."

She raises a finger, like she’s about to drop some serious wisdom. "You’ve got to be careful with whatever Jungkook’s playing at."

You almost laugh, but the sound gets stuck in your throat. "You think he's playing me? I mean, since we’ve been home for the break, I’ve pretty much got the upper hand. I could literally tell his parents what kind of influence he’s been hanging around."

Hana’s eyes widen. "Ohhh, you wouldn’t."

"Maybe… maybe not," you reply with a shrug.

There’s a beat of silence between you, the soft hum of your laptop fan filling the void as your gaze shifts to your untouched research paper. On the other end of the screen, Hana is now sprawled out on her bed, her laptop teetering on her knees, a look of pure academic defeat on her face.

“Honestly,” she sighs, shoving her hair into a messy bun, “I need a break from these goddamn business papers. If I have to reference Porter’s Five Forces one more time, I’ll commit an actual crime.”

You snort. “Same. I opened a blank doc and somehow ended up trauma-dumping instead of writing anything useful.”

“Valid,” she says with a lazy nod, sipping from her chipped mug. Then her expression shifts as something sparks in her mind. “Oh! Omg, I almost forgot to tell you. I saw freaking Park Jimin at the gym yesterday.”

You blink, confused for a second. “Wait, Park Jimin as in Jungkook’s Jimin?”

“Yes!” she grins. “Like, actual golden-boy, smile-that-could-end-wars, Park Jimin.”

You sit up a little straighter, curiosity piqued.

“He is so hot. Obviously. But also... surprisingly nice? Like, I was lowkey panicking because I dropped my drink bottle and it rolled across the floor, and he actually walked over and picked it up for me.”

“Classic Jimin,” you murmur, the corner of your mouth lifting.

Because out of all the frat guys Jungkook had introduced you to that night. Jimin was the only one who hadn’t treated you like a punchline or some extension of Jungkook’s ego. No sideways smirks. No stupid comments. Just a small bow, a kind smile, and genuine conversation about your classes. It had surprised you then, and stuck with you.

Hana raises a brow. “Wait, you’ve met him before, right?”

“Yeah,” you say, voice softer now. “He was actually the only one who wasn’t a total ass.”

Hana hums thoughtfully, picking up on the subtle shift in your tone. “Then why’s he even hanging out with them?”

You pause, eyes flicking back to your laptop screen before forcing a breath through your nose. “Doesn’t matter,” you say, a little sharper now. “Hot or nice doesn’t mean anything.”

You sit up straighter, like you're brushing it all off. “You know that saying.... ‘birds of a feather flock together’?”

Hana nods slowly on the other end.

“Yeah, well... if Jungkook’s an asshole, then deep down Jimin is too. They all are. That’s the company they keep.”

A silence settles after your last words, the kind that isn't uncomfortable, just weighted. Like both of you know there's more underneath, but neither of you wants to touch it.

The gentle whir of your laptop fan fills the space again, joined now by the faint golden light bleeding in from the window beside you. It's warmer than before, softer. You blink and glance at the clock in the corner of your screen. 4:27 PM.

You rub your eyes, surprised. “Wait… have we seriously been on this call since, like 11 AM?”

Hana glances at her own clock and groans. “Holy shit. We’re disgusting.”

You both laugh, and for a moment, things feel lighter again.

“I haven’t even eaten a proper meal today,” you mutter, stretching your arms above your head. Your shoulders crack in protest. “I think I’ve fully fused into this chair.”

“Girl, go feed yourself,” Hana snorts. “I think my spine’s permanently curved from sitting like a shrimp.”

You smile, the tension from earlier finally easing. “Alright, I’m logging off. Let’s pretend we were productive.”

“We were productive. Emotionally,” she smirks.

You shake your head, fondness curling at the edges of your chest. “Talk later?”

“Always.”

The call ends with a soft click, the screen blinking back to your cluttered desktop. But without Hana’s voice, the room feels a little too quiet, a little too still.

You lean back in your chair, exhaling deeply.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you think about Jimin again. And then, inevitably, about Jungkook.

But you don’t go there.

You get up instead, heading downstairs for the kitchen, telling yourself it’s just hunger. Not the ache of things left unsaid.

As you finally made your way downstairs, the warmth of home greeted you, mingled with the faint scent of jasmine perfume and musky cologne lingering subtly in the air. Your eyes caught your dad lounging on the couch, half-watching one of his usual TV shows, while your mum was at the dining table, carefully putting away plates and cutlery like she was trying not to make a sound.

Her eyes lit up when she saw you. “Oh, there she is! Finally out of her cave,” your dad teased with a grin, not even looking away from the screen.

You blinked for a moment, slightly taken aback. It wasn’t the joke that caught you off guard, but how put-together both your parents looked. Your mum, usually in house slippers and a robe by this hour, was wearing pressed dress pants, a soft ivory blouse tucked neatly at the waist, and just a hint of makeup that brightened her face.

Your dad of all people, had actually combed his hair, swapped his usual tee for a button-up, and even wore cologne. For someone supposedly just relaxing at home, it all felt... suspiciously polished.

“Y/n, I saved some dinner for you,” your mum said sweetly, motioning toward the covered dishes on the bench. “Made your favorites.”

“Oh... you guys already ate?” you asked, glancing at the untouched place settings.

“Well, not exactly,” she replied, a spark in her tone. “Your dad and I are heading out in a bit. Double date with Jungkook’s parents. We’re going to that comedy night in town.”

“Wow,” you said, raising a brow. “And no invite for me?”

Your dad chuckled, finally turning off the TV and rising from the couch to grab his coat. “We figured you’d be buried under uni work, and honestly... we booked the tickets ages ago."

“Next time, okay?” your mum added gently, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear and pressing a soft kiss to your temple before moving past you.

As your dad pocketed the car keys and straightened his jacket, he gave you a small wave. “Don’t wait up. We won’t be too long.”

You gave a half-smile, returning the wave. “Alright, have fun. And don’t go too crazy.”

They both laughed lightly before heading to the door. Just as your mum reached for the handle, she turned back casually, as if it were an afterthought.

“Oh, and before I forget,” she said. “Jungkook will be coming over soon to keep you company. I asked him to swing by so you two can catch up. I was also hoping you could make time to run a few errands with him tomorrow morning. Mrs. Kwon’s retirement party is this Saturday, and we need a few things picked up. Decorations, cake, a few bits and bobs. It’d be a big help.”

You froze slightly, the mention of his name shifting something in your chest. Your expression faltered for a second, but your mum had already turned away, smiling as she stepped out the door.

“Be nice,” she added with a wink, then closed it behind her. Leaving you alone in the silence of the hallway... with the unwanted thought of the one person you hadn’t planned on seeing.

Once the door shut, the house settled into a stillness that felt louder than it should have. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, shoulders sinking slightly as you turned away from the entryway.

With nothing better to do and your stomach reminding you that you hadn’t eaten since breakfast, you padded toward the kitchen and lifted the food cover your mum had mentioned. The sight alone made your stomach flutter with anticipation. Steaming rice, glistening teriyaki chicken, and a generous serving of cheesy tteokbokki on the side, the melted mozzarella still holding some stretch. Hell yes!

You sat at the table and ate in comfortable silence, demolishing the entire plate without pause. It tasted like everything you've been craving.

After cleaning up and washing the dishes, you wandered back toward the stairs, but instead of heading straight up, your eyes flicked toward the mirror in the hallway. You looked… okay. Still in your oversized hoodie and sweats, hair in a loose bun. It was comfortable, sure, but suddenly, you found yourself hesitating.

It’s just Jungkook, you told yourself. Why the hell did it matter?

But your feet were already carrying you upstairs. Within minutes, you changed into something a little more presentable. A soft-knit top and loose black pants. Hair down. A swipe of lip balm. You hated how subconscious it made you feel.

You made your way back down, trying not to think too much about it, and collapsed onto the couch. The quiet hum of a random drama played in the background, but your attention was fractured. You glanced at your phone. The screen lit up. No new messages. Not even a quick “on my way.”

Why would you even expect that? This wasn’t the Jungkook who used to spam you with dumb selfies and memes when he was two minutes late. This was the new Jungkook. The distant one. The one who became someone else.

You found yourself walking toward the front window anyway.

From the living room, the view into Jungkook’s place was partially blocked by the hedges, but you could still make out the soft golden lights inside. No signs of him stepping out. You watched for a moment longer than you wanted to, then sighed and backed away, arms folded across your chest.

Time passed. You checked your phone again. Somehow, over an hour and a half had slipped by. You were now lying sideways on the couch, the show long forgotten in the background, the half-watched episode just white noise to your thoughts, and you had slowly dozed off. Your eyes slowly closing.

And then... the sound of the doorbell snapped you upright.

Your heart did something strange. You blinked, disoriented by how fast your body reacted.

You sat frozen for a moment, just staring toward the door.

It was him. It had to be.

You swallowed, then slowly got up, smoothing the creases from your pants with clammy palms. And as you made your way toward the front door, every step was a quiet reminder.

It’s just Jungkook.

It’s just Jungkook. So why did it feel like anything but? Hana’s words looped in your mind, her voice sharp and warning. "You’ve got to be careful with whatever Jungkook’s playing at."

You swallowed, knowing she was right. Though you're still the Y/n that Jungkook grew up with since diapers. You were never blind. You knew how to read between the lines. You weren't naive. So if Jungkook was playing whatever game this was, whether it was guilt, avoidance, or something more complicated. Then two could play at that game. But could you? Could you keep up if his presence was exactly what you wanted?

The thought made your grip tighten on the door handle as you pulled it open slowly. You’d expected… something colder. A distant nod, a mumbled hey, maybe that faraway look he’s been wearing. The one that made it seem like he was always halfway somewhere else, even when standing right in front of you.

But instead you've met with something entirely different.

“Sorry for the wait,” Jungkook said, his voice light, almost too casual. He held up two steaming boxes of pizza in one hand and a cold bottle of Coke Zero in the other, like some peace offering wrapped in garlic crust and carbonated bubbles.

You blinked, momentarily stunned.

There he was. Bathed in the warm hue of the porch light, eyes bright, skin soft and golden like he’d just stepped out of a memory. His hair was tousled like he’d run his fingers through it on the way over, and he wore one of those effortlessly oversized hoodies paired with gray sweats that somehow made existing look like an aesthetic. He looked like comfort. Like the version of him you hadn’t seen in far too long.

And he was smiling. That familiar smile, lazy and warm. A little crooked at the corners. The lip ring he wears now was gone, and your gaze faltered for a beat too long at his mouth. Those lips. The ones that were on yours days ago. However, the Jungkook that is now standing before you felt real, warm and familiar. Not the stranger from the frat parties, not the guy who never texted back.

You folded your arms instinctively, a half-hearted shield. “You didn’t have to do all this,” you said, tone cooler than you meant. “I can look after myself, you know.”

Jungkook tilted his head, trying to catch your eyes, but you kept them trained elsewhere. On the bottle of soda, the floor, anywhere but his face.

“Yeah,” he said softly, “but where’s the fun in that?” There was a beat, a pause in his voice. Then, a little quieter, “And… I wanted to. Plus, we should probably talk. About… you know. That night.”

Before you could respond, he stepped inside, breezing past you like muscle memory, like he hadn’t spent the last few months being emotionally MIA. He handed you the chilled Coke, the condensation cool against your palms, then toed off his shoes and headed straight for the living room.

He placed the pizza boxes gently on the coffee table, like it was any other night. And you stood there in the doorway for just a second longer, your heart a little too loud, your mind a little too full. Because the one thing you weren’t ready for was the version of him that actually looked like he cared.

Jungkook glanced at the TV, the flickering light reflecting in his eyes. "Wait... is this Never Have I Ever?"

You gave a small shrug, still standing with the bottle of Coke in hand. “Yeah. I rewatch it when I don’t know what else to put on.”

He gave you a knowing look. “Classic comfort show. Still team Paxton?"

"Always," you muttered under you breath, trying not to smile.

Jungkook chuckled and settled on the floor in front of the coffee table, already lifting the lids off both pizza boxes. The warm, cheesy scent hit the air instantly. Garlicky, spicy, a little sweet. It filled the room like nostalgia.

“Come on,” he said, glancing back at you over his shoulder. “You’re not gonna make me eat all this alone, are you?”

You sighed like it was a hassle, but your body was already moving toward him. “You’re lucky it smells good,” you muttered, placing the Coke bottle on the table before heading to the kitchen cupboard.

He made a satisfied little sound as he picked up a slice, steam still curling from the crust. “Mmm... this is so hot,” he said through a mouthful, not even trying to be graceful.

You grabbed two cups and returned, lowering yourself onto the floor beside him. Well, not beside him. You gave yourself some breathing room, settling cross-legged just far enough away that your knees wouldn’t accidentally bump. The space felt necessary, like an invisible boundary you weren’t ready to cross.

Jungkook didn’t seem to mind. He was already flicking through Netflix titles with the remote, chewing like a man who hadn’t eaten all day.

“I hope you’re hungry,” he said, eyes still on the screen.

“I actually had dinner not too long ago,” you replied, pouring the Coke into the glasses. “Mum made teriyaki chicken and cheesy tteokbokki.”

He paused and looked over at you with mock betrayal. “Without me?”

"Well sorry but I'm actually her daughter. My mum doesn't need to feed for two kids."

“Tch.” He shook his head. “That’s cold, Y/n. Real cold.”

You handed him a glass and picked up a slice for yourself. “Relax. I can still manage two or three slices. It’s pizza... we make room.”

“That’s the one,” he said, raising his glass like a toast.

You clinked your glass gently against his without thinking, then took a sip.

For a few quiet minutes, the only sounds were the soft hum of the TV, the crinkle of pizza crust, and the shared silence between two people trying not to say everything they were actually thinking.

And as Jungkook scrolled aimlessly through the movie options, mumbling indecisively about rom-coms versus thrillers, you wondered if he was stalling. If maybe, like you, he didn’t want to rush into talking about that night.

Not yet.

Jungkook finally stopped scrolling, landing on some flashy action flick with explosions, car chases, and intense background music already playing in the trailer.

“Ooh,” he said, eyes lighting up. “This one’s got Michael B. Jordan. Heard it’s sick.”

You glanced at the title, fighting the urge to protest. Action wasn’t exactly your go-to, but… Michael B. Jordan was in it. And you weren’t in the mood to start a debate.

“Fine,” you said, biting into another slice. “But only because of him.”

Jungkook smirked knowingly as he hit play. “I mean, who doesn’t have a crush on him?”

You let out a small laugh. “Exactly."

The movie started, the opening scene loud and dramatic, but your focus drifted in and out. Not because it wasn’t good. But because sitting this close to Jungkook again after all that time was... disorienting. The space between you two felt physically small, but emotionally stretched. Like everything that hadn’t been said was sitting in that gap between you, unspoken and waiting.

As the movie played, the two of you exchanged casual commentary. Snarky one-liners, shared reactions when a twist hit, small laughs that softened the air.

“Okay, that was cool,” you muttered after one particularly clean fight sequence.

Jungkook nodded, mouth full of crust. “Right? The stunt work in this is crazy.”

You didn’t look at him when you spoke, and yet you could feel his presence beside you so acutely. It was like your body remembered this closeness even when your brain tried to play it off.

And what you didn’t notice or pretended not to, was how Jungkook kept sneaking glances your way.

They were brief. Almost too quick to catch. The kind of glances that happened in the in-between moments. When you laughed at something on screen, when you reached for another slice, when you tucked your hair behind your ear like you always used to do.

He looked at you like he was trying to memorize something.

Like he missed something.

Like maybe he was finally realizing just how long it had been.

But when you turned your head even slightly, he always looked away. Back to the movie, back to the screen, as if it hadn’t happened at all.

You shifted slightly, adjusting your position and curling one leg under the other, hugging your knees loosely to your chest. The buzz of the action scene played on, but your mind kept drifting to the closeness, to the way his knee occasionally brushed yours when he moved. Not intentional but not avoided either.

It was almost funny. How the two of you could sit there and pretend to be casual. Like your friendship hadn’t changed at all.

You reached for your Coke, taking a sip, eyes still on the screen.

And beside you, Jungkook smiled to himself. Not because of the movie.

But because you were still here.

And for once. Subconsciously, the bet was at the back of his mind.

The movie was still playing, but neither of you were really following it anymore. The sound of distant gunfire and dramatic dialogue had faded into background noise. Your half-finished glass of Coke sat forgotten on the coffee table, and the warmth of the pizza had long settled in your stomach.

Jungkook shifted beside you, just enough for you to notice.

And then, without looking directly at you, he murmured, “We should probably talk about it.”

You didn’t need to ask what it was. You already knew.

The silence stretched for a second. Maybe two.

Your stomach tightened, and instinctively, you looked away, pretending to focus on the screen. But nothing about the movie held your attention anymore. You drew in a slow breath, steadying yourself.

“Okay... let's talk,” you said, even though you didn’t need to say it out loud.

Jungkook finally turned to face you. His jaw was tense, his brows drawn together in that way they always were when he was working up the nerve to be honest.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “That night. After Halmeoni.”

There was no hiding the shift in the room. The mood. The weight of memory.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he added, voice tight with regret. “Not when everything was so raw. Not when I didn’t even know what it meant for me yet.”

You nodded slowly, your fingers curling slightly against the fabric of your pants. “Yeah. You shouldn’t have.”

The words were sharper than you intended, but not untrue. That kiss had thrown you off balance. Stunned and shocked in a way you hadn't expected. Deep down, you thought he’d say something, explain himself. Instead, after you pulled away first, still trying to make sense of it all, you told him to just drive you home. And once you arrived, he handed you the keys without a word and walked back to his house, leaving you standing alone in the quiet aftermath.

Jungkook’s shoulders slumped slightly. “I didn’t mean to mess things up between us.”

“You did, though.”

He looked down, jaw tightening. “I know.”

You sighed, the fight leaving your voice. “I get it, Jungkook. Things have been different. You’re at uni, trying to find your people. Make your own life. You don’t owe me anything.”

He looked up at you then, fast. “But I do. I do owe you something. I owe you more than disappearing on you like that. I owe you the truth.”

You stared at him, letting him speak this time.

“I’ve been acting like I don’t care. But I do. So much,” he said, voice low, shaking slightly with the weight of the admission. “Yes... I’ve been trying to fit in. Trying to keep up with everyone and everything. The guys I hang with, the late nights, the drinking, the parties... I thought if I threw myself into it hard enough, I wouldn’t have time to think about all the things I left behind.”

Your chest ached, but you said nothing.

He leaned forward now, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together as he stared down at the floor. “But I still think about you. Even when I don’t message. Even when I pretend not to notice you walking past me on campus. I still care, Y/n. That hasn’t changed.”

You swallowed hard, blinking quickly, your voice soft but steady. “Then why did it feel like I was the only one who did?”

Jungkook looked at you then and it was different. Not the careless glances from across campus corridors. Not the soft stares during movie nights when you were younger. But something that cracked him open just enough for you to see inside.

“I didn’t know how to be both,” he said. “The guy trying to figure out who he is... and the guy who still carries you with him everywhere.”

The room felt so quiet now.

Just the two of you and everything unsaid slowly unraveling between the lines.

Jungkook exhaled, slow and deliberate, like the next words took everything in him to form.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. For everything. For pulling away. For confusing you. For not being the friend you deserved. I know I can’t take it back, but…” He paused, eyes locking with yours. “Can you forgive me?”

The question hung in the air, still and fragile.

Your heart tightened painfully, but you carefully masked it, refusing to let it show. And damn, this was exactly what you’d feared. No matter how much you convinced yourself you could stand your ground, Jungkook’s vulnerability cut straight through you.

“Jungkook,” you said, voice quiet but unwavering, “you can’t just come back with two boxes of pizza, flash that smile, and ask for forgiveness like nothing happened.”

He flinched, just slightly. But he nodded. “I know. I get it.”

You sat up straighter, meeting him head-on. “You hurt me. You ignored me. You forgot my damn birthday. Like it didn't matter. Like I didn't."

Sure, missing a birthday isn’t the end of the world. People forget things all the time. But this was different. This was part of the childhood you and Jungkook shared. The small moments that built everything between you. A milestone marking another year of growing up, side by side.

So yeah, him missing your twenty-first birthday was a big deal. A fucking big deal. So screw him.

Jungkook's expression cracked. Just a flicker of guilt and recognition before he dropped his gaze. “You’re right,” he murmured.

“I’m not going to forgive you just like that. You have to earn it,” you said, voice soft but firm. “I’m not going to pretend the past few months didn’t happen. I’m not going to pretend you didn’t change.”

He looked at you again, and this time, something steadier lived behind his eyes. “Then let me try. I don’t want to lose you completely.”

You opened your mouth, unsure what to say, but he cut in gently.

“Maybe we can’t go back to the way things were. Maybe we shouldn’t,” he said, shoulders relaxing slightly. “But what if we start again? Still be friends, but… not like before. No pretending. No lies. Just… moving forward. Together. Making new memories that don’t feel so heavy.”

You stared at him, a swirl of emotions gathering just beneath the surface. There was still hurt. Still doubt. Still all the pieces of you he hadn’t shown up for.

But there was also the boy who used to know you better than anyone.

You took a breath. “If we’re going to be friends again. It has to be honest. And I’m not going to carry it all alone anymore.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. It wasn’t smug. It was grateful.

“Then I’ll be honest. And I’ll show up,” he said.

You nodded once, slowly. “Okay. We’ll see.”

He reached for another slice of pizza, eyes still flickering toward you, this time without guilt. Just quiet hope.

Outside, the sky had gotten darker, but the space between you and him… felt a little more open.

[ꜰʟᴀꜱʜʙᴀᴄᴋ] It was the same night Jungkook and his parents were going next door for dinner with your family. But Jungkook lay sprawled on his unmade bed, one arm tucked under his head, the other holding his phone above him, the dim light casting soft shadows on the ceiling.

The group chat was muted, but that didn’t stop him from stealing glances. The flood of messages was exactly what he expected:

Taehyung: yo you guys should check out nayeon's thirst trap on insta Hoseok: fuck i saw that aye. she's gorgeous or should i say... jugs are gorgeous hahaha Jin-hyung: anyone actually studying? lmao Yoongi: let’s get lit next week. I need to black out or drop out. either’s fine at this point. Taehyung: jungkookie, u alive or what? u been ghostin us harder than my dad Namjoon: bet’s still a go right? or did golden boy catch feelings

He locked his phone then, jaw clenched, face blank. He hated that it still got to him. The way they talked about you like you were just another game. And worse, that he hadn’t shut it down from the start. He could still hear your voice in the car after the kiss. “You don’t get to do that.” Like you’d finally seen right through him.

He tossed the phone aside with a groan, covering his face. His chest felt tight ever since that night. Guilty, restless, like no distraction could quiet the ache. And the worst part? The loud music and laughter you’d been hearing through your bedroom wall? That was on purpose.

He turned the volume up knowing you could hear it. Let the bass rattle the silence between you. It was stupid. Immature. But if he couldn’t say what he felt, maybe he could make enough noise to hide from it.

Or maybe, he was hoping you'd hear it and care.

Then a soft buzz.

One new message. Not from the group. But from Jimin.

[Jimin]: yo. u good? been quiet. just checking in. lmk if u need anything

Jungkook stared at it. Didn’t open it. Didn’t reply. But he didn’t look away either.

Then the phone lit up again. Jimin was calling.

One ring. Two. Three.

With a sigh, Jungkook dragged the phone to his ear, answering without a word.

“Bro,” Jimin’s voice came through. It sounded tired but kind. “You gonna keep ghosting me too or what?”

The silence stretched.

“How’s your break going?” Jimin tried again, softer now, like he wasn’t sure how much to push. “I just wanna know if you’re okay. I know when you go quiet, it’s not nothing.”

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, knuckles brushing his temple. He let out a breath that barely passed as a response. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to go through with the bet, you know,” Jimin said gently. “You know how the guys are. Especially Namjoon and Hoseok... they talk big but half the time they're just trying to get under your skin.”

Jungkook scoffed quietly, exhaling through his nose. “It’s whatever. I don’t care.”

Jimin paused. That answer didn’t sit right.

“Yeah,” he said carefully, “but I know you.”

Jungkook’s jaw tensed, eyes narrowing at the ceiling.

“You’re reckless, sure,” Jimin went on, tone lighter but still firm. “You pick fights. You party too hard. You kiss girls you shouldn’t sometimes. But you’re not… cruel, Jungkook.”

Jungkook swallowed hard, throat suddenly dry.

Jimin’s voice dipped lower, more hesitant. “You wouldn’t hurt her just to win something stupid. Not Y/n.”

No answer.

That silence said more than denial ever could.

Jimin let it hang a moment before pressing on. “I’m not saying you have to confess or blow it all up or whatever. But don’t sit there like none of it matters. I saw your face that night. You shut the whole table down when the guys joked about her. Hell, you wouldn’t even let Hoseok shoot his shot.”

That struck. Hard.

Jungkook sat up abruptly, elbows digging into his knees, palm dragging down his face. The pressure behind his eyes was dull but relentless.

“Then what does that say about you, huh?” he asked, voice rough, words coming out before he could stop them.

Jimin blinked. “What?”

“If you know I’m not like that... If you see that, then why’d you bring me around them in the first place?” Jungkook’s voice wasn’t angry, but there was weight behind it. “And why are you still hanging around like it’s all fine? Why are they even your friends, Jimin?”

He paused, words tightening in his throat before spilling out softer, but no less pointed. “Come to think of it… I’ve never even seen you act like them. Not once.”

There was a pause on the other end. Jimin didn’t answer right away.

“They’re my brothers,” he said eventually, voice quiet. “I grew up with most of them. High school, dorms, hell, and Namjoon... he's practically like an older brother to me.”

Jungkook let out a dry laugh. “So what, that means you just look the other way?”

“No,” Jimin replied, more firmly now. “I pick my battles. I speak up when it matters. Like right now.”

Jungkook blinked.

“I know they joke like it’s all just for fun. But I also know when something’s eating at you,” Jimin continued. “And this? Whatever it is… it’s getting to you.”

Jungkook didn’t answer.

Didn’t need to.

Because Jimin already knew.

“You care about her,” Jimin said softly. “You can lie to them, but you don’t have to lie to me.”

Jungkook stared at the floor, fingers curling around the edge of his hoodie.

He wanted to argue. To deny. To shut it all down.

But he didn’t.

Because for the first time in days, someone wasn’t laughing. Wasn’t mocking. Wasn’t treating it like a bet.

Someone actually saw him.

And that, somehow, made everything harder to ignore.

“Look, man,” Jimin said, voice steady, “you’re lucky to have a best friend like Y/n. A childhood friend, someone who knows you inside and out, sees past the noise. Not everyone gets that. Most people don’t get it at all.”

There was a pause, heavy but sincere.

“Whatever you do… don’t fuck it up. You’re the one who gets to choose what kind of person you want to be. Don’t lose her and don’t lose yourself.”

Jungkook closed his eyes, the words sinking deep.

“I’m not here to tell you what to do,” Jimin added quietly. “You already know how I feel. You care about her. You always have, even when you were trying not to. That’s obvious.”

Jungkook stared at the phone like it might answer for him.

“But this is your choice, Jungkook,” Jimin said firmly. “No one else’s. Not mine. Not Namjoon’s. Not the group. Just yours.”

Jungkook’s chest ached less than before. This was what he needed to hear. Not to fix him, not to judge him, but to remind him he still had time.

Time to choose.

Between his pride… and you.

Jungkook helped clear the coffee table, stacking empty glasses and gathering the stray napkins left behind. He didn’t say much, just moved with a quiet ease. Like this wasn’t the first time in a long time that it was just the two of you again. He took the pizza boxes out to the bin, brushing past you with a faint “I’ll be right back.”

When he returned, you were already curled up on one side of the couch, legs tucked underneath you, your phone resting idly in your hand. Jungkook dropped down on the opposite end, leaving a respectable space between you both. Comfortable, but cautious.

“So,” he said, tilting his head toward you, “how’s uni going? Still dying over those research papers?”

You huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah, pretty much. I’ve got one due next week, and my brain just isn’t braining.”

He smiled, the kind that softened the sharp edges of him. “What’s it on?”

“Marketing psychology. How consumer behaviour’s influenced by social proof. It’s interesting but I don’t know... something about the angle I’m taking just feels off.”

Jungkook leaned back slightly, arm resting along the back of the couch. “You want help with it?”

You glanced at him. “You don't take marketing. And there’s no need... I’ve got it.”

“But I want to,” he replied, voice gentle but steady. “If you’re stuck, I could at least look over your outline or something.”

You met his eyes, something wary curling in your chest. “Seriously, it’s fine. I don’t want to bother you.”

“It’s not a bother,” he said, a bit more firmly this time. “Come on. Just let me help, even if I don't take marketing or may not understand, but who knows.”

You looked at him for a beat, reading the sincerity in his face, the way his expression held no trace of obligation. Just that quiet insistence of someone who still knew you too well.

“…Okay,” you said finally, and the corner of his mouth lifted into a small, satisfied smile.

You stood from the couch, stretching slightly before turning on your heel and heading toward the stairs without saying much.

Jungkook’s eyes followed you, his brows knitting in quiet confusion. “Wait... where are you going?”

You glanced back at him over your shoulder, one foot already on the bottom step. “To study,” you said, your voice steady but edged with something unreadable. “You said you’d help, didn’t you? Or was that just you being nice?”

There was a flicker in his expression. Something between surprise and amusement. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees before rising to his feet. “No, I meant it,” he said, his tone softer now.

You gave a small nod and turned, continuing up the stairs. He followed, the air between you both still thick. But there was something else there too... familiarity settling back in like muscle memory.

By the time you reached your room and flicked the light on, it wasn’t comfortable, not quite. But it wasn’t awkward anymore either. Just two people figuring out how to be in the same space again, quietly navigating the in-between.

Jungkook stood silently at the doorway, taking in the familiar warmth of your room. Through your window, he caught a faint glimpse of his own bedroom across the way. A subtle reminder of how intertwined your lives are or had been. Your childhood space looked nearly the same. The same soft-toned walls, the same bookshelf stacked with stories and secrets. But now, your desk was cluttered with scattered uni papers and an overworked laptop plastered with half-faded stickers. A remnants of a different kind of growing up. A few bags lay by the door, clothes and things for had brought with you for the semester break. Everything around him felt like a snapshot of your life. The past, present, real, and lived-in.

And just like that, Jungkook was in your world again. The air held a kind of intimacy. This was the room where you once let him see you for the first time. Not just in the way of laughter and childhood secrets, but in the way skin met skin, and silence meant more than words. Where childhood faded into something tender and complicated. Where secrets were whispered under the covers and teenage hearts beat just a little too fast.

Where the lights were dim, breaths uneven, and everything change. Even if no one dared to say it out loud.

His eyes drifted across your shelves, and then, they landed on something small and familiar tucked behind a candle and a pen holder. It was a worn photobooth strip. He reached for it without thinking, gently sliding it out.

It was the two of you. About twelve years old, grinning wide with chocolate-stained mouths, hair windblown from the amusement park rides. One frame was blurry, the second was of you flashing peace signs, and the last… he remembered it clearly. You were hugging him, both of you laughing so hard your faces were scrunched up.

That day, you’d gotten separated from your parents for nearly an hour. Maybe they were distracted, or maybe Jungkook had just wandered off like the curious kid he was. And you, naturally, had followed. You were panicked, teary-eyed, and scared, but he’d held your hand the entire time until the staff found your parents.

You didn’t let go of his hand for the whole car ride home.

He held the photo up, a wistful smile tugging at his lips. “I can’t believe you still have this.”

You looked up and instantly tensed. Without a word, you reached out and snatched it from his hands, shoving it back onto the shelf, half-buried again.

“I’m surprised I do,” you muttered under your breath. “Should’ve thrown it out a long time ago.”

The words hit harder than you intended, and you saw it in the way Jungkook’s jaw clenched, the light in his eyes dimming just slightly.

“Don’t do that,” he said quietly, the softness gone from his voice now. “Don’t act like it meant nothing.”

You didn’t respond right away. The silence pressed in thick, almost suffocating.

“I’m not saying it meant nothing,” you said finally, your voice tight. “I’m saying I don’t know what it means anymore.”

Jungkook looked at you for a long moment. Not just looking but searching. For understanding, for something to hold onto. But whatever he was hoping to find wasn’t there. Not yet. You letting him up into you room. Your space. This was good.

He looked at the photo, now half-buried on the shelf like a memory you weren’t ready to hold, then back at you. And in that quiet second, something settled in him. An unspoken reckoning.

Stop digging through the ashes, he told himself. Start planting something different.

If he wanted to be in your life again. It couldn’t be through nostalgia or guilt. It couldn’t be about reaching into the past and hoping you'd meet him there. You deserved more than that.

He took a slow breath, grounding himself.

If he wanted a place beside you now, he had to earn it. Patiently. Genuinely. Not with apologies or half-measures, but with presence. With consistency. By showing up for the version of you that stood here today, not the one he left behind.

No shortcuts. No rewinds.

Just small steps forward, steady and sure

Now, he looked at you and saw not the girl he once knew, but a woman. Radiant, grounded, quietly strong. A grown version of Y/n he’d been lucky enough to grow up alongside. But the thought hit him. Could you say the same about him?

Was he someone worth growing up with?

Fuck no, he thought bitterly. He wasn’t the same. Neither of you were, but while you had evolved, found direction, he had become someone else entirely. An ego-driven, impulsive mess. Caught up in his own pride, his own shit choices. Maybe it wasn’t the crowd around him, maybe it wasn’t even the noise of growing up. Maybe the problem was just… him.

Then your voice cut through his spiral, grounding him like it always did.

You pulled out the chair at your desk, flipping open your laptop and motioning toward the mess of half-scribbled notes and open tabs.

“Okay, genius,” you muttered, not even sparing him a glance, “let’s see what you’ve got.”

Jungkook let out a breathy chuckle as he closed the door halfway and pull a small cushion pink extra chair you had. Jungkook sat down beside you, his shoulder a safe distance from yours, close enough to feel his presence but not so close that it crossed any lines. He glanced at the screen, then at the scattered notes, his fingers tapping lightly against his thigh.

“So this is your outline?” he asked, reaching for one of the pages. His voice was neutral and careful, like he didn’t want to disrupt whatever fragile comfort had settled between you both.

You nodded, tugging your sleeves over your hands. “Yeah. Like I said, I’m trying to build a case around how social proof affects buyer confidence, but it’s feeling kind of flat. Like I’m stating the obvious, you know?”

He scanned the page in silence, eyes moving quickly as he took in your scribbles and bullet points. “I mean… you’ve got the structure down. Maybe it just needs a stronger hook. Something a little more personal to tie it together?”

You glanced at him. “Like an anecdote?”

“Exactly. Something relatable. I know that you always had a way of making theory feel… grounded.”

You looked away at that, eyes flickering toward your laptop as you tried not to react to the unexpected compliment. The silence stretched again, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. Just… present.

“Okay,” you murmured, tapping the trackpad. “So say I talk about online reviews. That moment when you’re about to buy something but you hesitate until you see a five-star review from a stranger.”

Jungkook leaned in slightly, nodding. “Yeah. Or even something simple. Like going to a new restaurant just because it’s always full. That’s social proof too.”

You clicked your tongue, the corner of your mouth twitching. “Okay that's a good one, I'll put that down."

Time passed quietly.

It was just focused, steady, full of pencil scratches, keyboard clicks, and the occasional back-and-forth about your topic. You didn’t expect it to go this well. As for Jungkook, for all his cockiness and unpredictability had a mind that knew how to connect dots. How to pull abstract ideas into something clear and grounded. His insight was sharp, his perspective surprisingly thoughtful. He asked questions that made you pause, reframe, rethink.

You found yourself in awe because this is someone who majors in film, not marketing. He had no formal background in this, but still he somehow saw things you didn't. At one point, you caught yourself just watching him. Focused. Leaning over your screen, fingers tapping against his lip as he read through your points.

Something fluttered in your chest. A dull ache... and the occasional butterfly in your stomach you tried to ignore. Because this wasn’t supposed to feel like anything. You weren’t supposed to feel anything.

But it was hard not to, sitting here beside him like this. Close but not touching, breathing the same air, working in quiet sync like nothing had ever gone wrong. Like your childhood best friend, Jeon Jungkook, had never really left... that he’d been here all along.

By the time you closed your laptop with a soft sigh of relief, the clock on your bedside table blinked 8:03 PM. Outside, the moon hung low in the night sky, its pale light filtering through the curtains and casting a gentle glow across your room. You rubbed your temples and leaned back in your chair, shoulders aching but heart lighter than it had been all week.

“Well,” you murmured, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, “I guess I owe you one.”

Jungkook smirked, leaning back on his hands. “Guess you do.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, too late,” he grinned, and for a second, it felt like he was still the boy who used to copy your homework just to spend more time with you.

You stared at him a beat too long before looking away, standing to stretch your legs. You could feel his eyes on you, still soft, still searching.

The truth was, you wanted to believe that this version of Jungkook, the one who was helpful, present, almost gentle, was the real one. Or at least the one that was here to stay.

But somewhere deep inside, a small, persistent voice echoed. Maybe it was Hana's again. Be careful.

And you weren’t sure why. Or maybe you were. Maybe it was the history. The familiarity. The patterns. The way he could pull you in with a look, a joke, a memory. Only to vanish behind that familiar wall of ego once university resumed. To slip back into the embrace of his crowd, the endless parties, the hollow validation he breathed in like oxygen.

You didn’t want to feed into it. You didn’t want to be the girl who got too hopeful, too soon.

So instead, you leaned against your desk and crossed your arms casually, tossing him a smirk that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Well, don’t expect a thank-you parade or anything. I’ll mention you in the footnotes, maybe. Small font.”

Jungkook chuckled, brushing a hand through his hair, but something in his expression faltered. Like he could feel the distance you were keeping. Like he knew exactly what you were doing and maybe even why.

Still, he didn’t push.

And neither did you.

Because this version of things was safe. And that little voice inside your head wasn’t wrong to be cautious. After all, once you were back at uni, who’s to say he wouldn’t go right back to being that guy? The jock with the smirk and the swagger, the one who always left you second-guessing where you stood.

So you tucked that voice away, but not too deep.

Just far enough to enjoy this moment without breaking your own heart over it.

Jungkook shifted slightly in the chair, the silence between you both stretching.

“So…” he began, voice a little softer now.

“Would you maybe be keen to help me with my film theory paper sometime?”

You turned to glance at him, one brow raised.

“I figured since I just saved your grade, maybe you could return the favour,” he added quickly, eyes flicking to yours with a cautious smile. “Or… if not that, maybe you’d want to see what I’ve been working on? Just... I don’t know. No pressure.”

It caught you off guard. Not just the request, but the vulnerability tucked behind it. As if he didn’t just want your help. As if he wanted to show you something. A piece of his world. Let you in.

But before the words could leave your mouth. The front door opened downstairs, followed by the familiar sound of your mum’s voice calling out, “Y/n? We’re home!”

You blinked, straightening. “Oh! mum and dad are back,” you said, glancing toward the doorway as you rose from your seat.

Jungkook nodded and stood too, slower this time, brushing his hands down the front of his pants.

You followed the familiar voices into the kitchen, Jungkook just behind you. Your mum was unpacking a small tote bag while your dad sorted through takeaway containers on the bench.

“How was comedy night?” you asked, leaning casually against the wall, trying not to look like your heart had been racing a little ever since you stepped downstairs.

Your mum looked up with a grin. “Hilarious. Honestly, I haven't laughed that hard in ages.”

“Except when you tripped on the steps during intermission,” your dad added with a chuckle.

“Oh, hush!” she swatted at him playfully before turning to Jungkook. “Your mum, by the way, had the best time. I swear she was wiping tears the entire show.”

Jungkook’s smile widened. “Sounds like her. She would’ve been in her element. She’s got the loudest laugh in any room.”

Your mum nodded, pointing a finger at him. “Oh, she did! And honestly? I think she laughed way more tonight than she ever has at your dad’s jokes.”

Everyone laughed at that. Even your dad, who threw his hands up in faux surrender. “Brutal.”

You found yourself watching Jungkook again. The way he blended so effortlessly into your home, your family.

After a few more minutes of back-and-forth chatter about the show, the parking, your mum’s snack hoarding. Jungkook shifted his weight and cleared his throat gently.

“I should probably head back,” he said, glancing at the time on the microwave. "Really enjoyed tonight." Jungkook says more to you.

Your parents both waved him off warmly.

“Alright son.” your dad said.

“Thanks again Jungkook” your mum added.

Jungkook smiled and looked at you, eyes warm. “Bye, Y/n,” he said, then paused just a second longer. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You blinked. “Tomorrow?”

He raised a brow, amused. “Mrs. Kwon’s retirement party? The errands? Your mum said you and I are in charge of the list.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. Right. Your mum had mentioned that to you today.

“Oh... yeah,” you nodded quickly, recovering. “Of course. Tomorrow."

Jungkook gave you a crooked grin at your awkwardness before bending down to put his shoes back on near the front door. Your parents had wandered off to the living room by then, leaving just the two of you again.

He opened the front door, stepping one foot onto the porch. Then suddenly stopped as you called out, “Wait!”

You stepped forward, reaching for his arm without thinking. Your fingers curled around his sleeve, stopping him in place.

He turned back slowly, eyes searching yours, and you knew he could feel it. The heat rising off your skin, the way your touch lingered, hesitant and unsure. The night air felt cooler in contrast to the warmth pulsing between your hand and his arm.

He didn’t speak. Just waited patiently.

“I’ll help you,” you said, barely above a whisper.

“With the film theory stuff,” you clarified, eyes dropping briefly before meeting his again. “I’ll help.”

A flicker of something soft passed through his expression. Jungkook gave you a quiet nod, the corners of his lips tugging up into a small smile.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he said, voice lower now. “Really.”

You let go of his sleeve slowly.

“Good night, Y/n.”

And with that, he stepped off the porch and into the quiet evening, hands in his pockets, smile still lingering, and you stood there for a moment longer, the imprint of his presence still pressed into the air around you.

You walked back inside slowly, closing the door behind you with a soft click. The house was calm now, your parents now probably in their room, calling it a night.

You headed upstairs, your room exactly as you left it. Laptop open, notes scattered, that damn photobooth strip still half-tucked behind the candle. You paused in front of it, chewing your bottom lip before slowly pulling it out again. The faces in the photo smiled up at you, frozen in a moment that felt both impossibly far and painfully close.

You sighed.

You wanted to believe in second chances. You really did.

But as you set the photo down again. Not hiding it this time, just letting it sit there, exposed. And just as you were about to step away from your desk, your phone suddenly buzzed.

This time, the message preview made your stomach drop and flutter.

[Jungkook]: You should probably close your curtains unless you actually want me to see you

You froze mid-step, eyes widening. Slowly, instinctively, you glanced toward your window. And sure enough, across the way, Jungkook was standing at his bedroom window, phone in hand, a teasing grin tugging at his lips.

Your breath caught in your throat.

He gave a small wave, smug and warm, the kind that screamed gotcha.

You rolled your eyes, flustered but smiling despite yourself. Your fingers hovered over your screen before you started typing back.

[You]: Goodnight, creep.

You hit send and watched as he read it almost immediately. He didn’t reply back but you caught his slight nod through the glass before he pulled his curtains closed.

You drew your own curtains shut slowly, the quiet click echoing in the room. The tension lingered, heavy and unresolved but somehow, it was exactly where it needed to be.

[ꜰʟᴀꜱʜʙᴀᴄᴋ] It was a Friday night when Jungkook invited you to meet some of the guys he'd been out with more lately. From your knowledge and from what Jungkook had mentioned to you. Two of them also major in film and the others from either Hospitality Management, Communications, Health Science and Performing Arts. Over time, Jungkook had gradually made his way into the frat scene. He started hanging out and studying with them more often, eventually moving into a shared house just off campus. The kind of place where every surface felt a little sticky and the music never really stopped, even on weeknights.

You had hesitated.

This wasn’t your scene. And more than that, these weren’t your people. You knew it the second Jungkook described them with that offhand, casual tone. Like he was trying not to sound like he cared too much about fitting in with them. Like maybe he already did.

But still, you went. Because he asked. Because part of you wanted to understand this new world he was drifting toward. The one that seemed to pull him further away from you each week.

When you arrived, the place was buzzing. Music thumped through the walls, people you didn’t recognize moved in and out of rooms like currents, red solo cups in hand, someone shouting over a beer pong table in the back. It was far from the quiet hangouts you were used to with Jungkook. This wasn’t his bedroom, or your porch swing, or even his car with the windows down and some soft R&B playing. This was his world now, or at least the one he chose to show you tonight.

Jungkook led you in, hand briefly brushing yours. Not enough to hold, but enough to steady you. Like old times.

“You’ll be fine,” he murmured. “They’re chill.”

You gave a tight nod, trying to suppress the rising awkwardness as he brought you to the group sprawled across the couches.

“Yo,” Jungkook called out. “This is her. My good friend, Y/n.” He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes flicking between you and the guys. “We’ve known each other forever.”

A scattered chorus of hellos followed, laced with low chuckles and exchanged glances. You noticed Namjoon eyeing you with mild curiosity before lifting his drink in a lazy toast.

Jin, already tipsy, leaned forward with a lopsided grin. “This Kook’s girl? Damn, no wonder he dips early sometimes. She’s cute.”

Jungkook laughed it off, shaking his head. “She’s like my little sister. Practically family.”

Your stomach turned a little. Little sister wasn’t the label you expected or wanted. But you kept your smile in place, even as your chest tightened.

Then came him. Hoseok, all charm and mischief, sauntering in from the kitchen with a beer in hand and an easy smile stretched across his face.

“Ah,” he said, eyes landing on you like he’d just discovered something interesting. “So this is the famous Y/n”

“Famous?” you echoed, unsure.

Jungkook chuckled nervously. “They’ve just heard me mention you, that’s all.”

Throughout the night, you stuck close to Jungkook’s side as he navigated through the crowd, stopping now and then to introduce you. And then you met Jimin.

You’d only heard a little about Jimin from Jungkook.

Jungkook had mentioned him offhandedly. Just a guy he met at a club event, someone who quickly became part of his inner circle. He didn’t say much beyond “Jimin’s cool. We just clicked, I guess.” But the way Jungkook spoke about him, with an ease he rarely used for new people, made you curious. You were happy for him. Genuinely. Especially knowing how selective he could be about who he let close. Still, you couldn’t help but be a little surprised. This was Jungkook now. Frat mode activated, surrounded by a crew of wildly different personalities, and somehow fitting right in.

Jimin was leaning casually against the kitchen counter, drink in hand, radiating warmth with that easy smile of his. When Jungkook introduced you. “Yo Jimin, this is Y/n."

You noticed the flicker in Jimin’s eyes. He stepped forward, offering his hand with that easy charm. “Hey, I’m Jimin. Park Jimin."

You blinked, a little thrown by how warm he seemed, and how intently he was looking at you. “Yeah… I’ve heard some things about you.”

His smile tugged wider, just bordering on playful. “Good things, right?”

You shrugged, half-teasing. “Guess that depends on who’s telling the story.”

Jungkook let out a short laugh beside you, rubbing the back of his neck again like he always did when things edged toward awkward or interesting.

Jimin laughed, stepping closer. "And same here, Jungkook talks about you all the time."

“Really? like what?” you asked, curious.

He grinned. “I'll say it's confidential. But don't worry Jungkook speaks of good things."

You laughed, a little flustered. “I hope he does.”

Just then, Jungkook leaned toward you, gently touching your arm. “I’ll be right back. Just gotta take care of something upstairs,” he said, nodding in that direction.

You hesitated, unsure whether you really wanted to be left alone in a room full of mostly strangers. But before you could say anything, Jimin caught the shift in your expression.

“I got you,” he said easily. “Promise. You won’t even notice he’s gone.”

Something about the way he said it made you feel just a little more at ease.

“Thanks, man,” Jungkook said, giving Jimin a quick nod before moving his way past people and heading upstairs.

With him gone, the atmosphere subtly shifted. Less pressure, more ease. Jimin had a way of pulling you into conversation so naturally that before long, the awkwardness faded. The vibe turned playful, the exchange of words coming without effort. Still, your mind drifted now and then, eyes flicking toward the stairs to check if Jungkook was coming back.

But as the minutes passed, you found yourself relaxing. Jimin was good company. Surprisingly so.

“A myth?” you echoed, raising a brow.

“Yeah,” Jimin nodded, eyes playful. “Like this mysterious best friend he’s known forever who ‘just gets him’ and ‘knows too much.’ Honestly, I wasn’t sure if you were real or a ghost from his past.”

You smirked. “I guess I’m real enough.”

He offered you a drink, which you politely declined, and then leaned against the counter beside you, still clearly intrigued.

“So… childhood best friends, huh? That’s wild. How far back are we talking?”

You smiled. “Since babies. Our moms were friends before we were even born. We kind of… grew up side by side.”

Jimin let out a soft, impressed whistle. “Damn. That’s something else.”

“It is,” you nodded, your voice a little softer now. “We’ve been through a lot together.”

Jimin turned slightly to face you, genuinely curious. “That kind of connection… I love that. Someone who just knows you. Your moods, your weird habits, your history. That kind of constant. It’s rare.”

You looked at him, the sincerity in his voice catching you off guard. “You never had that growing up?”

He shook his head. “Moved around too much. Friends came and went. Made great ones, sure but nothing that stuck like that. Nothing… unconditional.”

The air between you settled into something quieter, more thoughtful. You felt him watching you, not in a way that made you uncomfortable, but in a way that made you feel seen.

“You and Jungkook ever…?” he started, then hesitated.

You raised an eyebrow. “Ever what?”

He laughed lightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, that’s probably nosy. I just... Jungkook’s talked about you like you’re this constant in his life. I was just curious.”

You glanced across the room, where Jungkook stood talking to someone, though his eyes occasionally flicked over to you.

“It’s complicated,” you said finally. “We’ve always been close. But I don't ever picture going further with him. We are like family." You lied, well partly lied.

Jimin nodded slowly, taking that in. “That makes sense. Still… it must be hard. Being so close to someone for so long and never really knowing what could’ve been.”

You didn’t reply. You didn’t have to.

He saw the answer in your eyes.

Before he could say more, Jungkook reappeared at your side, arm brushing yours as he leaned in. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. “Just talking.”

Jimin gave Jungkook a friendly smile. “She’s great, man. You didn’t tell me your best friend was this interesting.”

Jungkook gave a small smirk, eyes lingering on you for a beat too long. “She’s a lot of things.”

You couldn’t tell if it was a compliment or a warning. Maybe both.

And just like that, the quiet moment with Jimin dissolved back into the noise of the party. But something had changed. You could feel it. For Jimin, maybe it was finally being able to put a name and a story, to the girl behind all the mentions. And for you, it was a flicker of something unexpected.

And for Jungkook… well, maybe noticing Jimin’s attention, leaned down to you and asked, “Wanna go upstairs? I wanna show you my room.”

You gave Jimin a small smile and excused yourself, following Jungkook up the stairs with a curious kind of comfort tugging at your chest.

His door was slightly ajar when you reached it, and you hesitated for just a second before pushing it open.

This was probably what he’d been doing up here. Tidying up. Resetting the space a little. The faint scent of clean linen lingered in the air, and the trash bin was newly empty. His bed was made, sheets pulled tight like it was something he rarely did but felt like doing tonight, just because you were here.

His room wasn’t anything special, it very him. But it was quiet, familiar in its own way, and for a moment, it felt like the two of you were back in your own little world again.

It stopped you at the door.

The lighting was soft, almost dreamy. Purple LED strips lined the top shelf and cast a glow over the whole space, painting everything in a wash of calm lavender. It made the white of his plain tee look crisper. The corners of the room felt tucked away from the world, safe.

The bed was low and made, with dark sheets and a single hoodie draped over the back of his chair. A tangle of earbuds peeked from beneath a pillow. And on the wall above the headboard, LED stars were pinned like constellations. A little soft. A little romantic. Like him. And it felt strangely intimate to be standing in the middle of it.

Your eyes drifted to the shelf beside his desk, where the purple LED glow softly illuminated a small, silver picture frame. It was tilted slightly, like it had been picked up and put back down more than once. You stepped closer.

It was a photo of you and Jungkook. Years ago. The two of you maybe thirteen, maybe even younger. You were both barefoot in the grass, sun in your eyes, your arm slung lazily around his shoulders, his grin wide and boyish, two teeth slightly crooked before braces straightened them out. Your head was tilted toward him, like gravity had always pulled you in that direction.

You stared at it.

And suddenly, the quiet in the room felt heavier. Not peaceful. Not warm.

Just quiet.

Because when was the last time you felt like that with him? Like his gravity hadn’t faltered? When was the last time he laughed with you like you were still the most familiar part of his day?

You didn’t notice he’d moved until he was right beside you, gaze locked not on the photo, but on your expression.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

You didn’t answer. Just stepped back slightly, arms crossed loosely over your chest. The weight of the past few weeks. Him not showing up, his dry one-word replies, settled between you like fog.

He saw it now. You watched him realize it.

Jungkook reached out slowly and took your hand.

You blinked, startled at the sudden gentleness.

“Come here,” he murmured.

He led you to the edge of his bed and sat down with you, his fingers still wrapped loosely around yours. You didn’t pull away. You just… waited.

He exhaled hard through his nose, staring down at your intertwined hands like they were something breakable.

“I’m sorry,” he started, voice low. “For the past few weeks. For being distant. For leaving you on seen. For acting like I wasn’t there when you needed me.”

You didn’t say anything, and it made him press on.

“I didn’t mean to disappear. I just... I don’t know. Everything’s been moving so fast lately. New people. New expectations. And I guess I thought…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I thought I could juggle it all. I thought maybe you didn’t need me the way you used to.”

You looked at him then. Really looked.

And he looked lost in the kind of way only someone you’ve known your whole life could look.

“That’s the thing, Jungkook,” you said quietly.

He swallowed hard, thumb brushing against your knuckles like muscle memory.

“I miss you,” you said. "I just miss my best friend. I just needed you to show up.... I mean you could've communicated better."

Jungkook wanted to say that he misses you too. God, he did. But his throat felt tight, caught between regret and something unspoken that hung in the air like fog.

Instead, he just nodded, once. You both sat there, side by side on the edge of his bed, your hands still tangled loosely like old routines you didn’t know you missed until they came back.

For a moment, it felt okay again.

Not fixed.

But… okay.

That is, until the door burst open without warning.

“Yo!”

Loud laughter and heavy footsteps flooded in as Hoseok and Taehyung barged in, completely oblivious to the shift they’d just shattered.

“Damn, Kook!” Hoseok grinned, not even pretending to be apologetic as he flopped into Jungkook’s desk chair like it was his own. “Didn’t think you were bringing your girl up here already.”

Taehyung whistled low under his breath, raising an eyebrow as he leaned against the doorframe. “We interrupting something?”

Jungkook shot them both a flat look, clearly not in the mood for their timing. “Can you not?”

But Hoseok just smirked, spinning slowly in the chair. “Relax, man. You could’ve just put a sock on the door or something.”

Taehyung grinned at you, a little sheepish. “Hey Y/n, hope you're enjoying the party so far.”

You offered a tight smile, trying to pretend your hand hadn’t just been in Jungkook’s. Slowly, you pulled it back into your lap.

Jungkook noticed.

And even through the interruption, the noise, the teasing. His eyes didn’t leave you.

Hoseok leaned back in Jungkook’s chair, arms behind his head like he was settling in for a show. “Anyway,” he said, smirking like he knew exactly what kind of moment he’d walked in on, “you two should come downstairs. Namjoon’s been pacing around like he’s hosting a TED Talk and no one’s listening.”

Taehyung laughed. “Yeah, he’s already asked where you were like… three times.”

Hoseok grinned wider, adding, “Don’t want to make him jealous now, Kook. You’ve got your favorite girl up here, and poor Joon’s left babysitting the beer pong table alone.”

Jungkook groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “God, you’re annoying.”

“But endearing,” Hoseok said brightly.

“You wish.”

You tried to hide the smile tugging at your lips, but it was hard. The shift in mood was jarring, but maybe needed. You could still feel the weight of what had been said between you and Jungkook lingering like warmth in the air… but it didn’t feel like it had been erased. Just… shelved for now.

Taehyung tilted his head toward you. “You coming?”

You glanced at Jungkook, unsure if you should stay or give him space. But he caught your eye and gave you the smallest nod. Like he was saying Don’t go just yet. Not like that.

So you stood. Smoothed your hands over your jeans and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah. I’ll come.”

Jungkook got up too, his hand brushing the small of your back for a second. So quick it could’ve been nothing, but you felt it anyway.

“Let’s go,” Jungkook muttered under his breath.

The four of you filed out of the room, and as you reached the top of the stairs, Jungkook leaned a little closer, voice low, just for you.

“We’ll talk more later,” he said. “Promise.”

You looked at him, heart doing that familiar ache again.

“Okay,” you whispered.

And somehow… you believed him.

Eventually, all of you headed back downstairs. Jimin was nowhere to be found. But even in the chaos, being by Jungkook’s side again after days of him pulling away gave you a sliver of happiness. You tried to hold onto that.

The boys were all talking over each other. Namjoon throwing out a plan for Korean BBQ after class tomorrow, Taehyung already texting someone to reserve a table. Hoseok started talking about some girl he’d hooked up with last week, and the conversation veered toward crude jokes and casual bragging. You didn’t say much. You were starting to feel out of place.

That’s when you noticed it.

Jungkook, who, you’d say, normally thrived in this chaos, usually loud and quick with comebacks seemed… distant. His laugh was a second too late. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. And every now and then, you caught him staring off at nothing.

It was subtle. But you saw it. And it made your stomach stir.

And then Hoseok leaned over, voice just loud enough to cut through the din. “Yo, you mind if I get a pass?”

Jungkook blinked. “Huh?”

“You know… with Y/n.” Hoseok jerked his chin toward you. “She’s hot. I’d fuck her.”

At first, you didn’t register it. The background noise blurred it out. But when you saw Hoseok’s eyes land on you, that smirk curling at the edges of his mouth, it hit you. The words slammed into your chest, knocking the air from your lungs.

And Jungkook?

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Didn’t even hesitate.

He just shrugged. “By all means.”

The group roared with laughter, the sound swallowing everything. But not for you. For you, time stopped.

You stood there, frozen.

What? you breathed, the word barely forming on your lips.

You turned to him, waiting desperately for something. A joke. A correction. An apology. A flicker of the person who just stood next to you upstairs, who said Promise.

But he didn’t say anything.

He didn’t even look at you.

And you… you were too stunned to speak. Too stunned to even fathom how fast he had switched up. How the boy who made his room feel like home moments ago could reduce you to a punchline like it meant nothing.

Like you meant nothing.

You didn’t want to scream or cause a scene, but the curse words spilled out faster than your mind could keep up with. Your chest burned and your throat tightened as you turned away, weaving through the crowd, desperate to hold back tears. You just needed to get out.

And just as you reached the door, weaving through strangers, a hand gently but firmly grabbed your arm.

It was Jimin.

He looked surprised at first, like he hadn’t expected to catch you leaving so soon. “Hey,” he said, a half-smile on his lips. “Already heading out?”

Then he saw your face. The smile dropped. “Hey… are you okay?”

You couldn’t look at him. Not at first. But eventually, you met his eyes, and he looked so concerned, so sincere, that you had to answer. “Yeah,” you lied. “Just getting late. I’ve got an early class.”

He didn’t believe you, you could tell. But he didn’t press. “It was nice finally meeting you,” he said softly.

“Likewise,” you murmured, your voice small.

You slipped out the door before the tears could break free, the cool night air hitting your face like a shock as you tried to steady your breathing. The ache in your chest was raw, threatening to spill over, but you swallowed it down, forcing yourself to move forward.

Behind you, Jimin made his way back to the group, slipping into the familiar chaos.

“Where’d you disappear to?” Taehyung grinned, slinging an arm around Jimin’s shoulder. “You missed Hoseok’s thirsty ass.”

Jimin raised a brow. “What happened?”

“Hobi thought Y/n was cute,” Taehyung snorted. “Asked if he could hit.”

“What?” Jimin blinked.

“Yeah,” Taehyung laughed harder, clearly buzzed. “Well Kook didn’t even care. Seems like he doesn’t really care for her as much as he says he does.”

Jimin’s smile didn’t return.

His gaze slid across the room until it landed on Jungkook, who was slouched deep into the couch like he wanted to disappear. One leg bouncing. Cup in hand. Not drinking. Not talking. Just... elsewhere.

Avoiding eye contact. With himself. With everyone.

Jimin watched him quietly, head tilting slightly.

He and Jungkook were just two years apart, but sometimes it felt like more. Still, somewhere along the way, maybe between club events or late-night cramming. He started thinking of Jungkook as someone solid. A little brother, who at time can be annoying, impulsive, big-hearted. But good.

And yet, even now, with all the noise and music, Jimin felt it. The faint flicker of envy. Because Jungkook had you. Had grown up with you. Someone by his side since childhood.

That kind of connection? That kind of loyalty?

The truth was, Jimin used to have that too. A long time ago.

He's never told anyone, not even the guys. But sometimes, late at night, he still remembered the sound of her laughter echoing in empty spaces, the way she used to loop her arm through his and call him her person. Her safe place.

You reminded him of her, in a strange, aching kind of way.

Same softness. Same fire. Same way of looking at the world like it owed her answers and she wasn’t afraid to demand them.

But where that story of his ended, left something hollow in its place. He never talks about it. Never says her name out loud anymore. Not since...

Jimin’s jaw clenched. He blinked hard.

“You idiot,” he muttered, eyes still on Jungkook.

He didn’t even know who he was talking to anymore. Jungkook. Himself. The universe.

Maybe all of them.

[letsbangts]

mutt || jjk masterlist

⤷ summary: when he’s with you, he’s like a dog with a bone

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ word count: 18.8k+ (so far)

18+ // mdni

⟶ genre: friends with benefits au, smut, angst, fluff

⟶ content: fuckboy!jk, tattooartist!jk

⟶ warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, jk is kinda toxic, jk being a bit manipulative, f*ckboy behaviour, more specific warnings will be mentioned in each part

⟶ status: ongoing

↬ a/n: bcuz the mutt album by leon thomas is *chef’s kiss*

main masterlist ˚.⋆˚.⋆˚.⋆ join my taglist

parts: 2/3

01: mutt ── 6k+

02: answer your phone ── 12.8k+

03: sooner or later (i do)

[kookooluvr]

OUR LITTLE LIFE — PART 2

moments in your little life with the man of your dreams, from the domesticity found in early morning burnt toast and bedtime kisses to late-night diaper disasters, passive-aggressive arguments about laundry, and him proving that married sex can in fact still break the headboard.

pairing: dad!jungkook x (fem) mom!reader

genre: fluff, smut (angst is barely sprinkled in here and there) family!au, slice of life!au, businessman!jungkook, sahm!reader, lots of cute married couple moments

rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

w/c: 3.6k

warnings: little junho gets sick for the first time, very mild angst, jk is in full panic-dad mode, mentions of illness and a high fever, a fussy toddler, jungwoo throws up on jk.

a/n: part 2 is here my lovelies !!! things are still a bit slow for the jeon family but i can assure you that it will start picking up soon 🫶🏼 i love you all and i hope you enjoy (and make sure to like, reblog, comment and shoot me an ask so we can talk about these cuties)

taglist: @khadeeeeej @yooniepot @lively-potter @yuniesluv @rpwprpwprpwprw @koosluvss @lovingkoalaface @vsr4197 @mimi1097 @soobinslay @vantelover1306 @123xxx0o @svnbangtansworld @dmblack7 @tropical-123 @blluee1128 @forelmst @kiyomi7 @kookooquette @madussthoughts @kskskskskskskskss @boraluv @slutty4jk @marisollll @senaqsstuff @euphorichaewon @cabr1171 @paradise172 @jkxlvrr @minyoonkissz @kawaiiisstuff @heyitsroshni @palomanazareth @matryoshka-poetry @jkaxl

SERIES MASTERLIST

Evening settles over the house like a blanket, cozy and familiar. The living room glows with the golden light of a single lamp in the corner, casting gentle shadows against the walls. The faint sound of the TV hums in the background, a rerun of something you've both seen too many times but keep on for comfort. Outside the windows, the sky has darkened, city lights flickering in the distance.

Dinner is warm on the table. Jungkook set it all out while you finished cleaning up Jungwoo's toy explosion in the hallway.

Now, the three of you are gathered around the table; you on one end, Jungkook on the other, and your son between you in his high chair, his tiny hands buried in a mess of mashed vegetables and steamed chicken.

But something feels…off.

You notice it first in the way Jungwoo moves. He's sluggish, not his usual bouncy self. He pokes at his food more than he eats it, dragging small fingers through his plate like he's painting. Usually this time of the evening is all noise and chaos, squeals, flying spoons, demands for "More rice, peese!"

But tonight, it's just quiet.

You set your chopsticks down slowly, your gaze narrowing as you study his little face. His cheeks are pink. It's not his usual healthy glow, but flushed. Too flushed. And his eyes, normally so wide and sparkling with mischief, look glassy and heavy-lidded.

"Woo?" you murmur softly, your chair scraping against the hardwood floor as you move closer to him. "Tell mommy what's wrong..."

Jungwoo doesn't answer. He blinks up at you slowly, a bit dazed, and then lets out a sudden, jerky sneeze. It's such a tiny sound, but it rattles through his whole body.

Jungkook, mid-bite, freezes. "Was that a sneeze?"

You nod, gently running your fingers through Jungwoo's soft hair. "Yeah. He's been kinda off today, but I figured maybe he was just tired. He didn't nap much."

Jungkook is already standing, abandoning his plate entirely. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I thought it was just a fussy day," you sigh, gently brushing your fingers across Jungwoo's damp forehead. "But he definitely feels warm."

Jungkook frowns, stepping in close, his brows pulling together with worry. "Let me feel."

You shift aside slightly as he crouches beside you, his hand reaching out to touch Jungwoo's forehead. The moment his palm rests against his son's skin, his eyes grow in size.

"He's hot," Jungkook mutters, sounding worried. "Like…hot-hot."

Jungwoo lets out a quiet whimper, rubbing at his eyes with tiny fists, then reaches his arms up without a word, clearly asking to be held.

Jungkook doesn't hesitate. He lifts him from the high chair with ease, pressing him close to his chest. The little boy immediately clings to him, his small hands fisting the collar of his father's t-shirt as he buries his flushed face against his neck.

The look on Jungkook's face makes your heart ache.

"He's never been sick before," he murmurs after a long pause, his voice softer now, a little shaken. "Not really. Not like this."

You nod, your hand finding Jungwoo's back, rubbing soothing circles as you lean your head against your husband's shoulder. "I know. He made it twenty-three months before his first real cold. That's a pretty good streak."

Jungkook doesn't respond right away. He sways slightly, instinctively rocking back and forth the way he does when Jungwoo's tired or fussy. But tonight, there's more urgency in it, more helplessness.

"Should we call someone?" he asks, turning to you. "Or take him in to the emergency room?"

You look up at him, reading the panic in his eyes. You know that tone, the one he uses when he's scared but trying not to be. It pains you to see both of them like this.

"We'll check his temperature first," you murmur gently, trying to stay calm. "See what we're working with. It could just be a mild fever. We don't need to panic yet."

Jungwoo coughs softly against Jungkook's shoulder, and the sound is small but sharp, like it shouldn't be coming from someone so little. His whole body tenses with it before he lets out a soft, tired sigh.

Jungkook presses his lips to Jungwoo's temple, his jaw tight. "I hate this."

You rest your head against his arm. "Me too, but he's gonna be fine, baby."

For a few long seconds, you just stand there, the three of you tucked into this tiny, quiet moment. Jungkook knows he'll be okay, and that colds and flues are completely normal, but his fatherly instincts make him want to strangle those germs for making his little boy sick.

"Okay," you whisper finally, gently stepping back. "Let's get the thermometer."

Your hands move quickly through the bathroom cabinet, grabbing the little baby-thermometer from the bin of supplies you keep on hand for exactly these type of moments. You hold it tightly in your palm as you walk back toward the living room, the weight of it suddenly feeling a lot heavier than it should.

Jungkook has settled onto the couch with Jungwoo curled up in his lap, his hand gently stroking up and down the little boy's back. Jungwoo's eyes are barely open, his flushed cheek pressed to Jungkook's chest, his breathing soft and stuffy.

"He's shivering," Jungkook murmurs with furrowed brows. "But he's sweating too. Is that normal?"

"It's his fever starting," you sigh, kneeling before him to take Jungwoo's temperature. "Let's see where he's at, okay?"

Jungkook nods, his eyes fixed on you as you gently pat Jungwoo's back. "Hey, my angel," you whisper, "Mommy's just gonna take your temperature real quick, okay? It won't hurt, I promise."

Jungwoo gives the softest whimper and slowly shifts in his father's arms, clearly uncomfortable but too tired to protest.

You slide the thermometer under his arm, gently cupping his cheek in your hand as you wait. Thirty seconds has never felt so long.

Jungkook is completely silent, his eyes trained on the little device like it's about to deliver a life-or-death outcome. His other hand keeps moving slowly over Jungwoo's back, soothing him in small, repetitive circles.

The thermometer beeps.

You pull it out and glance at the screen, and your breath catches in your throat.

"38.9," you mutter softly.

Jungkook's eyes snap up toward you. "That's...that's high, right? That's...that's definitely a fever."

You nod slowly. "Yeah. It's not dangerously high, but…it's definitely a fever."

Jungkook looks down at the small bundle in his arms, visibly rattled. "Shit."

"Hey," you sigh, resting your hand on his knee. "It's okay. It's a small fever. We'll keep him hydrated, give him some Tylenol. I'll call the paediatrician too, just to be sure."

"But what if it's something else?" Jungkook asks, his voice low and tight. "What if it gets worse? What if he throws up or his fever spikes overnight or what if—"

"Jungkook," you interrupt, staring into his big round eyes. "Breathe. We're gonna handle it, okay? Together."

He looks at you, and for a second, you see the fear behind his eyes, the kind that only exists in a dad who want nothing more than to protect his baby. But then he nods, tightening his grip around Jungwoo and pressing a kiss to his hair.

"Okay," he whispers. "Yeah, okay."

Jungwoo shifts in his arms, sniffling softly, a sleepy whine escaping his lips as he presses his face deeper into Jungkook's shirt.

You rub soothing circles along his back, watching his little body shiver once more. "I'll give him the medicine, then we can call Dr. Lee and she can advise us on what to do next."

Jungkook nods again, slowly rising to his feet with Jungwoo tucked tightly in his arms.

And just like that, your evening slips into something else entirely, no longer dinner and cartoons, but dim lights, whispered plans, and the quiet hum of stress pressed tight beneath your ribs.

—

The kitchen is quiet, except for the soft rustle of Jungwoo's cough and the low hum of the fridge. Jungkook paces across the room, holding your son tightly in his arms, his hand cradling the back of Jungwoo's head, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

"He's still so warm," Jungkook sighs. "He's burning up, baby."

You measure out the Tylenol carefully, squinting at the tiny label like it might change if you read it enough times. "It's just the fever doing its thing. His body's fighting it off, Kook."

"Should I call Jimin?" Jungkook asks suddenly. "He's a nurse, he could help. Or...shit, should we just take him to urgent care?"

You pause mid-pour, glancing up at him. "If it gets worse, we will. But we already talked to Dr. Lee and she said to monitor him for now and stay calm, remember?"

Jungkook exhales shakily, gently bouncing Jungwoo as the toddler coughs into his shoulder. "He's never been sick. Not even once. I thought we were doing everything right."

"We are," you mutter firmly, walking over with the medicine. "Babies get sick, Jungkook. It doesn't mean we failed as parents just because he caught a cold."

"No, mommy," Jungwoo whines softly as you try to coax the medicine into his mouth, stubbornly turning his face away.

Jungkook sighs, gently rubbing his son's back. "Come on, buddy. Just a little bit. Help mommy out, okay?"

Jungwoo sniffles again, but this time, miraculously, takes the medicine without a fuss, swallowing with a pitiful, sleepy look before tucking his face back into Jungkook's neck. He's too tired to fight.

You stroke his back gently, pressing a soft kiss to his pudgy cheek. "There we go. You did so good, Woo-Woo."

Jungkook presses another kiss to the top of his head. "You're so strong, little man."

You rest your head against Jungkook's shoulder, your fingers brushing over your son's hair. "You both are."

Jungkook lets out a shaky sigh, his voice trembling just a little. "I just hate seeing him like this. He's so little. He doesn't even understand why he feels bad."

"I know, baby," you whisper. "I know."

You close your eyes for a moment, listening to the faint sound of the rain starting to fall against the kitchen window, the slow inhale-exhale of Jungwoo's congested breathing, the steady beat of Jungkook's heart despite his fear.

The night is just beginning but you'll face it together.

The clock on the microwave reads 12:03am.

The kitchen is dim, the overhead light casting a faint glow over you as you rock back and forth on your heels, clutching a flushed, groggy Jungwoo to your chest. His tiny arms are wrapped loosely around your neck, his forehead sticky against your skin, his body warm and heavy with his fever.

"Daddy…" he murmurs sleepily, voice hoarse and soft. "Where daddy go?"

Your heart clenches.

"He just went to get you some more medicine to make you feel better, baby," you whisper gently, kissing his forehead. "He'll be back really soon, okay?"

Jungwoo sniffles, his whole body curling in on itself as another wave of discomfort passes through him. "Want daddy, mommy…"

"I know, lovebug," you sigh, rocking him a little more. "Me too..."

Jungkook had left for the pharmacy forty-five minutes ago, thrown into full-on panic mode after you both realized the Tylenol supply ran out. He didn't even hesitate, just grabbed his keys, shoved on his sneakers, and practically sprinted to the car with a frantic, "Text me if he gets worse!"

You can picture it now, Jungkook in his wrinkled t-shirt, messy hair, shoulders hunched as he stalks the fluorescent aisles of the 24-hour pharmacy like a man on a mission.

You rub Jungwoo's back as he lets out raspy little coughs, whispering lullabies in his ear as he rests his head on your shoulder. You've already sang the Pororo theme song thrice and you don't think you have it in you to sing it a fourth time, but you do it anyway because it makes him smile.

Thankfully, a little while later, the front door opens with a soft creak and Jungkook stumbles in, arms full; a pharmacy bag in one hand and a blue dinosaur plushie in the other.

"Mission accomplished," he murmurs breathlessly, kicking the door shut with his foot. "Tylenol, saline spray, vapor rub, and...ta-da!"

He lifts the plush toy with a smile, knowing how much his son will love it. It's soft, floppy, and kinda ridiculous-looking. Jungwoo already has a million dinosaur plushies at this point, but your heart melts anyway at the look on his face.

"Dinothaur!" Jungwoo croaks out, his eyes wide, his voice cracking as he wriggles excitedly in your arms. "Dinothaur, daddy!"

Jungkook's expression practically melts as he rushes over and gently presses the dinosaur into Jungwoo's tiny hands.

Jungwoo clutches the toy to his chest and then promptly burrows into your neck again, mumbling something that sounds vaguely like, "Dinothaur friend."

You and Jungkook exchange a look. You're both exhausted and relieved to see him happy.

"Okay," he sighs, tossing the pharmacy bag onto the counter. "Let's try to give him the next dose of Tylenol and then maybe—"

A sudden noise cuts him off. A deep, guttural gurgle from Jungwoo's chest. He coughs and he sounds like he has some phlegm, so Jungkook rushes to get a piece of paper towel from the counter. He stands before you and holds the paper towel up to Jungwoo, waiting for him to cough again.

He does. He coughs enough to make him gag. Then, before either of you can react, Jungwoo abruptly lifts his head, opens his mouth and throws up.

Right onto his father.

Jungkook freezes, his arms held out in front of him as the warm, sticky mess slides down the front of his shirt. "You've gotta be kidding me, Woo."

You try not to laugh, you really do...but it slips out anyway.

Jungkook blinks at you, taking deep breaths. "Don't. Laugh. I'm gonna gag."

"I'm so sorry," you wheeze, "but you look like you lost a food fight with a toddler and applesauce."

Jungwoo groans softly against your chest, clearly dazed but no longer coughing. He seems to have gotten it all out, which was a lot.

Jungkook sighs dramatically, peeling off his shirt with two fingers. "I'm gonna clean up, then we're giving this guy a bath."

"You want me to handle it?" you offer gently.

"I'll help. I just need to get the smell of vomit off me," he grimaces as he walks off to the bathroom to throw his shirt in the laundry basket and rinse off at the basin.

You smile down at Jungwoo as he cuddles into your neck. "Thank you for throwing up on daddy and not mommy," you whisper, walking him to the en-suite bathroom.

You draw a warm bath while Jungkook comes to undress the toddler, who clings to his dinosaur plushie even as his arms are gently lifted through his pyjamas sleeves.

"Dinothaur take bath, daddy?" Jungwoo mumbles hopefully, his eyes fluttering up at his dad.

"Mr. Dinosaur can sit over here, bud," Jungkook says as he places the plushie beside the bath's faucet like it's on lifeguard duty.

The bath is a blur of soft giggles and sleepy sniffles. Jungwoo sloshes around half-heartedly, leaning into Jungkook's arms as you rinse his hair and gently wipe his face clean.

By the time you lift him out and wrap him in a warm towel, his eyes are already fluttering closed.

"Looks like he's finally winding down," Jungkook murmurs, brushing his fingers through his damp curls.

"Let's get him into some fresh jammies and let him sleep with us tonight," you whisper. "No way I'm letting him sleep alone tonight."

Jungwoo finds himself snuggled between the two of you in bed, freshly dressed in soft pajamas and baby powder. His blue dinosaur is tucked beneath one arm, a pacifier in his mouth, one chubby hand clutching the fabric of your pyjama top in his sleep.

He's warm, but not too warm. He's still sniffly and a little flushed, but a lot calmer.

Jungkook watches him for a long moment in the soft glow of your bedside lamp, his face unreadable.

"Hey," you whisper, reaching for his hand across your son's tiny body. "You okay?"

He nods slowly, then shifts closer, his fingers running through Jungwoo's hair. "I just…I didn't know I could worry this much. I thought I'd be the calm one. But tonight? I was totally freaked out."

"You weren't freaking out," you murmur softly. "You were being a dad. A good one."

He turns his palm upward and laces his fingers with yours. "You're amazing. The way you held it together tonight? I was losing it, and you just…you're so...you."

You shake your head, pressing your lips to the back of his hand. "We held it together. He needed both of us."

Jungwoo stirs in his sleep, letting out a soft snore as he shifts closer to you. The mere sight of him tugs at something fierce and tender in your chest.

Jungkook watches him like he's the most precious diamond in the world, propping his head up on his elbow. "He's gonna be okay, right?"

You nod. "He already is."

As the house finally goes quiet around you, just the soft snores of your son, the rhythmic hum of the white noise machine, and the feel of Jungkook's hand in yours, you let yourself close your eyes and breathe.

You're tired and a little emotionally drained, but you're thankful to have both of your boys with you as you drift off to sleep.

When you wake, the room is bathed in early morning light, pale gold spilling through the cracks in the curtains, painting faint shapes across the floor. You blink slowly, and for a moment, you don't move. You just breathe.

And then you feel it.

Warmth.

A soft, sleepy weight curled into your side.

You turn your head, your heart already full before your eyes even land on the sight that greets you.

Jungwoo is nestled against you, his cheeks still flushed but less so, his breathing slow and even. He's on his back now, one leg thrown across your waist, his arm laying over Jungkook's chest. His dinosaur is safe and sound beside him and his pacifier bobs gently with each exhale.

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding.

He's okay. He looks a lot better as well.

A quiet rumble leaves Jungkook's lips as he starts to stir. His eyes are barely open, his hair a wild mess against the pillow, his face soft and vulnerable in the gentle light.

"Morning, baby," he rasps, his voice hoarse with sleep.

"Hey," you whisper, brushing a knuckle along his cheekbone. "You sleep okay?"

"Mmm, barely," he murmurs, but his lips tug into the faintest smile. "Didn't want to move. He was so peaceful, I didn't wanna disturb him."

You nod, your hand sliding into the mess of his hair. "He looks a bit better, hm?"

Jungkook shifts just a little closer, lowering his voice like he doesn't want to wake the toddler. "I still feel wrecked after last night. I can't believe he threw up on me. Feels like university days again."

You laugh softly, your eyes drifting down to Jungwoo. "He just needed to get it out."

You both fall silent for a moment, just watching him sleep. His little chest rises and falls with each breath, and every now and then, he lets out a tiny sniffle, followed by a soft sigh like he's just too cozy between his parents.

"Do you think he remembers any of it?" Jungkook asks softly, reaching over to tuck the duvet over Jungwoo.

"I doubt it," you murmur. "But he'll probably laugh when you remind him he threw up on you."

Jungkook snorts, his nose scrunching up at the thought, replaying it in his head. "I'm never wearing that shirt again."

"I already tossed it," you chuckle.

He laughs softly, full of affection. "You're the love of my life."

You smile, leaning in to press your lips to his cheek. "Right back at you."

Jungwoo stirs between you then, releasing a dramatic little groan and rubbing one chubby fist across his face. His eyes flutter open, slow and sleepy. He blinks up at the ceiling, then turns his head toward Jungkook, pulling his pacifier out of his mouth.

"Hi, daddy," he mumbles, his voice soft and raspy.

Jungkook's face instantly crumbles into the softest smile you've ever seen.

"Hi, baby," he coos, reaching out to stroke Jungwoo's hair. "How's my little dino warrior?"

Jungwoo sniffles and holds up the blue plushie without a word. Jungkook leans over and kisses his forehead, then kisses it again, and again.

The little boy hums and turns over onto his side, facing you, his blue dinosaur snuggling up against his chest, and your heart almost bursts as you hold him close. "I hungry, mommy..."

"Want some pancakes, lovebug?"

He thinks deeply for a moment, his brows furrowed before he gives a little nod. "With banana."

"With banana, okay," you smile.

Jungkook groans as he stretches his limbs, pressing a last kiss to his son's cheek. "I'll get started. Coffee first, though. Please, God."

You giggle and pull him back to press your lips to his in a gentle kiss. "You earned it."

As he slips out of bed, muttering about caffeine and syrup, you curl around Jungwoo, his face snuggled into your chest. His body is still warm, still healing, but he's safe and sound.

The worst part is over, and even though your eyes are heavy and your limbs ache and the house is probably a mess after last night, your heart feels whole.

You'll deal with all of that later, but first, you hold him closer just a little while longer.

PART 1 || PART 3

[timelessjk]

somehow, you. | jungkook au

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ summary: he was the quiet one in class. the type who never talked unless called on, who looked at the world from behind thick-rimmed glasses and stayed out of everyone’s way. you? you were the girl everyone knew. the one who never let anyone in. you weren’t looking for connection, and he wasn’t the kind to ask for it. but still… he did. and somehow, it worked.

ratings: 18+

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

genre: college AU, emotional intimacy, slightly slow burned.

warnings: explicit sexual content including unprotected sex (not advised), soft but possessive dirty talk, emotional vulnerability, praise, mild insecurity and reassurance, and a rough but tender dynamic in an established relationship. and ofc…big dicc jungkook cause UGH.

word count: 5.2k

a/n: hi! ok so. this is my very first fic i’m posting and i’m actually kind of losing my mind about it?? originally it was supposed to be two parts (pt.1 soft, pt.2 smut) but i got carried away and ended up writing it all in one go because i wouldn’t shut up abt this two!!

*banners/dividers credits to the owners ♡ ྀི

thank you for reading!! leave your comments on what u think of my first fic 🥺! 🤍 - Sher

requests are officially opened!

The classroom always smelled like old air and pen inks, a familiar background hum to every forgettable weekday morning.

You sat at the back, as always, where you could stretch your legs, twirl your pen, and zone out without anyone bothering you. People knew you, too well.

Not because you tried, but because the world couldn’t help but notice the girl who always seemed a little untouchable.

Then the teacher changed the seating plan.

“Jeon Jungkook. You’re moving to the back, beside her.”

A ripple of murmurs went through the class, subtle but present. You could feel the stares. You looked up just in time to see him glance nervously your way before lowering his eyes and walking toward the seat beside you.

Jungkook. Everyone knew who he was, even if he rarely spoke. Top of the class. Never late. Always dressed clean, minimal, quiet. You didn’t expect anything from him. Didn’t need another nerdy guy going stiff just because you shared a desk.

But that day, he surprised you.

He sat down carefully, barely making a sound, and opened his book. No fidgeting. No glances. Just… stillness. Until you heard the smallest breath of a murmur.

“Chapter’s interesting,” he said, eyes still on the page.

You blinked.

“What?”

He didn’t flinch. “The reading. It’s good. Surprising, kind of.”

You studied him, confused. He hadn’t even looked at you. It was like he wasn’t trying to talk to you—just thinking aloud, and you happened to hear.

You didn’t answer.

But your curiosity flickered.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

The next few days, he didn’t speak again. But he was always on time. Always glancing at your desk when he thought you weren’t looking—quick, nervous flicks of his eyes.

Then came the Wednesday.

You’d forgotten your pens, bag full of it. Not on purpose—just one of those mornings where you left everything behind. You muttered something under your breath, frustrated, and slammed your bag down.

Before you could think to dig through your things again, a sleek black pen rolled across your desk.

You turned. Jungkook was still facing forward, penless himself now.

“You sure?” you asked, surprised.

He nodded once. “I have another.”

You waited for a smile. A joke. Some kind of flirtation.

Nothing.

Just a calm silence.

It threw you off more than someone asking for your number ever could.

Then came the Thursday rainstorm.

You stayed behind after class, waiting for it to ease, stuck at the school’s entrance while thunder rumbled in the distance. Everyone else had already left, except for him.

He walked up beside you without a word, holding an umbrella. For a second, you thought he was going to walk past.

He hesitated.

“You live near East Gate, right?” he asked, voice low, eyes on the rain.

You narrowed your eyes. “How do you know that?”

He shrugged. “I’ve seen you leave that way. Every day.”

You didn’t answer.

He tilted the umbrella slightly toward you. “Come on.”

You stared at him like he’d grown two heads. But you followed.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

That walk changed everything.

He didn’t try to impress you. Didn’t pry. Just walked beside you, holding the umbrella with quiet precision to make sure it covered you both.

When you reached your turn, you stopped.

“Why’re you doing this?” you asked, genuinely confused.

He paused. Looked at you for the first time, really looked. Eyes soft behind his wet fringe.

“Because you look like no one ever asks how you’re doing,” he said. “And i kind of want to.”

You stood frozen as he walked away, raindrops hitting your shoulders after the umbrella disappeared with him down the path.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

From then on, he became your quiet shadow.

Always beside you in class. But not in a clingy way. He respected your space but showed up when it mattered.

One morning, you came in late, eyes puffy from a night you didn’t want to talk about. You slumped into your chair, hoodie up, bare faced (that rarely happens whenever you go to class) sleeves tugged over your hands.

He didn’t say anything.

But when you finally looked at your desk, there was a folded note, written in perfect; clean handwriting.

“It’s okay to have days like this. You’re allowed to fall apart sometimes. I’ve got notes if you need them.”

You folded the paper slowly. Pressed your lips together. And something inside you melted.

You weren’t used to being seen like that.

You weren’t used to someone not asking for anything in return.

That day, you turned to him and whispered, “Thanks.” giving him a small smile.

He looked up, startled, as if he wasn’t expecting you to respond.

He then smiled, unsure, but real.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

You think to yourself, you might fell for him. Maybe. Which is a weird feeling to you.

Given that you both barely have a proper (real) conversation.

Well you did exchange numbers—that’s because you both somehow were assigned to work together, so Jungkook thought it would be better to interact outside of class.

For study purpose of course.

Eventually both of you did text one another occasionally. Just short texts nothing conversation worthy.

Yeah, you felt this weird butterflies.

But, you didn’t fall all at once.

It happened slowly. Over study sessions you didn’t consider were study sessions, coffee walks that became routines, quiet texts late at night when he’d ask, “Did you eat today?” and would not stop asking until you said yes.

Over the time, during study sessions, you found yourself laughing around him. Trusting him.

Letting your guard down without realizing it had dropped.

One night, you asked through text, in your bed, loneliness crept again, “You know i’m kind of… a mess, right?”

He replied few seconds too fast.

“I know,” he said. “But you’re the kind of mess that makes sense to me.”

And you fell.

Quietly. Completely.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

You weren’t sure when the lines blurred. When study sessions became excuses to sit a little closer, or when shared coffee turned into shared glances.

Jungkook didn’t rush anything. He never did.

But one Friday, something shifted.

He caught up with you after class, his hoodie sleeves pushed halfway up, headphones around his neck, looking nervous in a way that made your heart weirdly ache.

“Hey,” he said, walking beside you. “There’s this exhibition at the design building… the one with digital installations. I thought maybe you’d like it.”

You turned to look at him. “You inviting me?”

He nodded, looking at the floor. “If you want. No pressure. It’s tomorrow.”

You almost teased him. Almost said something sarcastic just to keep things from feeling too serious. But something in the way he looked open, nervous. The sincere in his eyes made you soften.

“Yeah,” you said. “I’d like that.”

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

The exhibition was small. Kind of quiet but dreamy.

Digital light shifted across the walls like watercolor in motion. Projected clouds drifted across the floor.

Every room had its own ambient sound. It’s soft, with the electronic music and echoing whispers. It should’ve felt awkward, being alone together in that hush.

But with him, it didn’t.

You stood in one of the installations surrounded by cascading lines of digital rain, blue and silver glowing all around and he looked at you like he wanted to remember the moment.

“I like this,” you said quietly.

He glanced at the ceiling, then back at you. “Me too.”

A beat passed.

“Honestly… i didn’t know if you’d say yes,” he admitted. “To coming here.”

You tilted your head. “Why not?”

He looked at you. “Because i’m not like the other people you talk to.”

“You mean the loud ones? I don’t talk to just anyone, anymore. Besides, didn’t we spend a good amount of time together for the past month to be considered as…friends?”

He smiled, barely. “Yeah. The ones who know what to say. And yeah i knew that but still, i thought it was just a study session, coffee catch ups with you—that you’d rather spend your time with your other…friends.”

You shifted your weight. “Maybe i got tired of people who always know what to say and FYI, i’d rather spend my time with you.”

Silence.

Just the sound of soft electronic rainfall.

Then he said it so low you almost missed it.

“I really like being around you.”

You turned to him, heart suddenly too loud in your chest.

He’s so dreamy, handsome.

“I really like being around you too.”

And he looked at you like you’d just said the one thing he’d been waiting to hear.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

Your first kiss wasn’t at the exhibition.

That night had already held enough. The way he kept sneaking glances at you while pretending to read the plaque beside a sculpture, the way his hand hovered close to yours but never quite touched.

You walked the whole gallery like that, quiet but full of something neither of you wanted to name yet.

Later, he offered to walk you home. You said yes.

The air was cold but not bitter, the city dim and quiet in that in-between hour.

Your footsteps echoed against the pavement, your breath blooming white in the air. He kept his hands in his coat pockets, close but not brushing yours.

“Did you like the exhibit?” he asked, his voice low and a little shy.

“I did,” you said. “But i think i liked walking around with you more.”

He turned his head slightly, surprised. “Yeah?”

You nodded, not looking at him. “It was… nice. I don’t usually do things like that. With people.”

Jungkook was quiet for a moment. Then “You mean dates?”

You blinked. “Was this a date?”

His voice went even softer. “I wanted it to be.”

You stopped walking. Your apartment was just ahead, but you didn’t want to go in yet. The moment felt full.

Suspended.

He looked at you, eyes searching. “Can I be honest?”

You tilted your head. “Aren’t you always?” you giggled.

He smiled faintly. “I think about you a lot more than i should.”

You swallowed. “What does that mean?”

“It means i’ve liked you for a while. Even before you started talking to me.”

“You’re not exactly… forward, you know.”

“I didn’t think i was your type.”

“You’re not,” you said simply. “At least, not what i thought my type was.”

His expression didn’t change much, but you saw the flicker of hope behind his eyes.

You glanced down at your keys, twisting them between your fingers. “You’ve been patient with me.”

“I don’t mind waiting,” he said. “But sometimes i think… i just want to know if i’m the only one feeling this.”

You looked at him then. Really looked.

His scarf was wrapped high, almost to his mouth. His cheeks were pink from the cold, eyes warm, uncertain, but wide open.

He wasn’t trying to be smooth. He was just there, telling you the truth.

So then, slowly and tentatively, he stepped closer, his breath shallow.

His voice barely carried “Can I kiss you?”

You felt everything in you pause.

And then “Yeah,” you said softly, heart pounding.

“Yeah, you can.”

He didn’t hesitate after that. He leaned in, hand rising to your cheek, thumb brushing gently across your skin. His lips met yours in a kiss that was soft, slow, careful.

He was learning something sacred; he didn’t want to rush what he’d waited so long to feel.

When he pulled back, your lips still tingled from the warmth of him, your chest full and fluttering.

You smiled, breath curling in the air. “You always this careful?”

His voice was low, but sure. “Only when it’s important.”

And you knew, right then, it was.

You didn’t talk much after that kiss.

Not because it was awkward. Because it wasn’t. It was the kind of silence that wrapped itself around you like a blanket. Soft, steady, enough.

He waited for you to open the door. Didn’t push. Just gave you that small smile, the one he only ever gave you and said, “Text me when you’re inside.”

You nodded, stepped in, and closed the door.

Then leaned your forehead against it.

You were in trouble.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

The next few days were different in all the ways that mattered.

You still sat beside each other in class. Still studied together in the library. But now there were new things. A small, subtle shifts.

His knee brushed against yours and didn’t move. He’d lean in when he spoke, voice softer. You’d catch him looking at you, and this time, you didn’t look away.

You weren’t used to this version of yourself; unguarded. And Jungkook, for all his quietness, seemed to understand that.

He never rushed you. Never asked “what are we?” or “where is this going?”

He just stayed.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

It wasn’t planned.

The day had been normal. Classes, campus noise, another group project that had you rolling your eyes while Jungkook just quietly took notes. He always took notes, even when no one else cared. You liked that about him. You’d never told him.

You were both walking back from campus, the sky soft with evening gray, when it started to drizzle.

Jungkook held his bag over your head.

You laughed. “You know i’m not gonna melt, right?”

He just looked down at you. “You’re still cold when it rains. You get quiet.”

You didn’t answer. Mostly because he was right. You did get quiet.

And he noticed.

By the time you reached your apartment, your hair was damp, and your mood had shifted. You weren’t sad, just heavy.

One of those days. You didn’t say much as you opened the door and let him in.

Jungkook toed off his shoes carefully, still holding that nervous energy he always carried when he was in your space. You dropped your keys in the bowl by the door and stood in the kitchen, hands on the counter.

“Want tea?” you asked.

He nodded. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

The silence between you was soft. Not tense. Just full of all the things you weren’t ready to say out loud. You made tea. He sat at the table. You sat across from him, knees brushing under the wood.

Then, out of nowhere, you said it.

“I don’t let people in.”

He looked up, startled. You weren’t looking at him—just staring into your mug.

“I don’t know how to do that,” you continued. “It’s easier when no one expects anything.”

He stares.

“I never expected anything,” he said.

You finally looked at him. He looked… calm. A little sad. But calm.

“I just liked being around you.”

You nodded slowly. “You still do?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Even more now.”

The air between you shifted. Slowed. Deepened.

And you whispered, “Stay tonight?”

He didn’t ask questions.

So he said, “Okay.”

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

You sat on the floor of your bedroom while he changed into the extra clothes you gave him. A quiet hum played from the speaker, barely audible.

When he stepped back into the room; barefoot, hoodie sleeves pushed up, eyes soft, you suddenly felt that aching fear again.

What if you messed this up?

What if it didn’t last?

And then he crossed the room and knelt in front of you.

His hand rested gently on your knee. “You don’t have to be anything for me,” he said quietly. “You don’t have to perform. Or smile. Or fix anything.”

You looked down at your lap, fighting the warmth in your throat.

“I don’t know how to do this,” you admitted.

“I’ll wait while you figure it out,” he said.

Just like that.

No grand declaration. Just steady, honest patience.

You reached for his hand and held it.

When you finally crawled into bed beside him, there was no space left between you. You pressed your back to his chest, his arm wrapping loosely around your waist. His breath tickled your shoulder.

“You okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah,” you whispered back. You meant it.

You woke to the quiet shift of fabric. The soft sound of him sitting up beside you.

Morning light filtered through the curtains in a pale blur. Your back was still warm from where his arm had rested. You blinked slowly, your mind caught between dreams and now.

Jungkook was already awake, hoodie wrinkled, hair messy from sleep.

He was sitting at the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve.

He looked like he was thinking too loud.

You propped yourself up on your elbow. “Hey,” you said, voice scratchy.

He turned to you immediately, like he’d been waiting. “Hey,” he echoed. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

You sat up slowly, pulling the blanket around your shoulders. “You okay?”

He nodded. Then shook his head. Then let out a quiet breath, like he wasn’t sure how to start.

“Can i ask you something?” he said softly.

You stilled, heart already beginning to tap faster in your chest. “Yeah.”

He looked down at his hands, picking at a loose thread on the cuff of his sleeve.

“I don’t want to ruin anything. I’m not trying to pressure you,” he started, voice careful. “But… what are we?”

You didn’t answer right away.

His eyes lifted. “I just…last night meant something to me. You mean something to me. And i know you don’t let people in easily. So i don’t want to assume anything, but i also don’t want to keep pretending this is just… nothing.”

You watched him for a moment, your throat tight.

“I didn’t think you’d ask,” you murmured.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re usually the quiet one. Yknow.. the patient one.”

“I still am,” he said. “But being patient doesn’t mean I’m not feeling things too.”

You swallowed, fingers tugging at the edge of the blanket. “I’m not good at this. I don’t know how to explain what i feel when i’m with you. It’s new. And a little scary.”

He nodded slowly. “Same.”

You looked at him. “But i don’t want it to be nothing either.”

Jungkook’s expression softened. “Yeah?”

You nodded, quieter this time. “Yeah.”

He shifted closer, his knee bumping gently against yours. “Then maybe… we don’t have to label it yet. But I just needed to know i wasn’t alone in it.”

“You’re not,” you said.

You meant it.

Jungkook exhaled a breath he’d been holding. Then reached out, tentative at first and he curls his fingers around yours.

“Okay,” he said, voice warm now. “Then i’m yours. However long it takes.”

You smiled, eyes stinging just a little. “You’re really not what i expected.”

He grinned finally, “I get that a lot.”

And in the quiet that followed, your fingers remained laced with his.

And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel like you had to run.

It had been a month.

One month since Jungkook had leaned across your front step and kissed you like it mattered. Since he’d touched your face like he was afraid you’d vanish if he blinked too fast.

And somehow, things still felt new. It’s still unreal in moments like now, with him sprawled across your bed in a hoodie, reading on his stomach, feet swaying behind him like a kid.

You were half-working on an assignment, half-watching him.

“You’re staring,” he said without looking up.

“I’m admiring,” you corrected.

He turned his head just enough to catch your smirk, then gave a small smile. “Baby,” he said under his breath, “you’re distracting.”

“You like it,” you replied, nudging his leg with your foot.

He hummed. “I do.”

⋆. 𐙚 ̊⊹ꮺ˚

Your relationship had grown into something… daily. Quiet rituals that made your chest ache. He’d walk you to class with your fingers looped in his sleeve. He’d wait for you outside the library, sipping iced coffee and reading the latest novel you lent him. You started wearing his hoodies without asking. He stopped looking surprised when you kissed his cheek mid-sentence.

But even with the sweetness, there was still something unspoken hanging between you.

Something warmer.

Like tonight.

He was still lying on your bed when you finally gave up pretending to work and climbed over him, plopping yourself beside his back with a sigh.

He closed his book and peeked at you. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you murmured. “You’re just comfy.”

He let out a soft laugh. “You say that every time you use me as a pillow.”

“Because it’s true, baby.”

You shifted, laying your head against his back. Your palm flattened over his spine.

Jungkook went still for a second and then melted.

“Do you…” you hesitated, unsure why your throat suddenly felt tight, “do you ever want to do more than just lie here?”

He was silent for a moment.

Then, softly: “Yeah. I do.”

You sat up a little, just enough to look at him.

His cheeks were already flushed.

“I just never know if you’re comfortable,” intertwining your fingers together.

“Or if you want to. I’ve never really… gotten this far before.” he added.

You blinked. “You haven’t?”

He shook his head. “I’ve dated a few, but it never got serious. And no one ever really looked at me like you do.”

That last part made your chest squeeze.

“You mean like you hung the stars?” you teased gently.

He smiled, eyes shy. “Kind of, yeah.”

You reached out, brushing your fingers through his hair. “You’re not the only nervous one, baby.”

“I’m not?”

You shook your head. “I’ve been with my fair share of…flings? boyfriends? whatever you wanna call it—but it never felt right nor did it worked out, obviously. It always felt like they expected something from me. You don’t.”

Jungkook shifted, sitting up properly now. You were both facing each other, legs crossed.

“Can i ask you something?” he said quietly.

You nodded.

His voice was careful. “If we… wanted to try something. Anything. Would you tell me if you weren’t ready?”

“Always,” you promised.

He reached forward, brushing a thumb against your cheek. “Okay.”

You leaned into his palm.

And after a beat, you whispered, “Would you kiss me now?”

His lips twitched. “I’d give you anything you want.”

When he kissed you slow and warm, one hand still cupping your jaw, it felt like everything in the world slowed down. Like it was just you and him, tangled in hush and trust.

You shifted closer, your hand slipping beneath the hem of his hoodie, resting just above his waistband. You felt him freeze, just slightly.

“Too much?” you whispered.

“No,” he breathed. “Just new.”

You smiled into the kiss. “We’ll take it slow.”

“Promise?” he breathes into the kiss.

“Promise.”

And when he pulled you fully into his lap, burying his face in your neck with a soft laugh, it felt like something more than new.

It happened on a night that didn’t feel special; no candles, no dramatic music, just the two of you in your room after dinner, legs tangled on your bed, warm with laughter and full from pasta Jungkook had insisted on cooking himself.

He was wearing gray sweatpants and one of your oversized shirts, sleeves pushed up, his hair messily falling across his forehead.

You had just pulled him down for a kiss. Playful, slow.

But then it lingered. Deepened.

And something shifted.

His tongue slipped against yours, deliberate. His hand came up to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer like he couldn’t help himself anymore.

When you whimpered against his lips, he pulled back slightly, gaze heavy-lidded.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low and rough.

You nodded, breathless. “Yeah. Just… wasn’t expecting you to kiss me like that.”

He brushed your cheek with his thumb. “Like what?”

“Like you’ve been waiting to.”

“I have been,” he murmured. “For so fucking long.”

Your chest tightened, breath caught in your throat.

“We’ve kissed many, many times before?,” you giggled.

And then his lips was on yours again, more desperate this time.

Jungkook leaned over you, pressing you into the mattress, his body slotting between your thighs like it was instinct.

You felt how hard he was through the thin fabric of your shorts. He wasn’t trying to hide it. He wanted you to feel it.

“Jungkook,” you breathed, tugging at his shirt. “Please.”

He sat back just enough to yank it over his head, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. “You sure?”

“Baby,” you said, reaching for him again, “I’ve never been more sure.”

Something in his expression cracked open at that relief, hunger, something fierce and protective all at once.

“Then let me have you,” he said, voice dark, breath ragged. “Let me fuck you like you deserve.”

The way he said it, with need dripping into every syllable made your whole body shudder.

He tugged your shorts down fast, your panties going with them. When you gasped, he kissed the inside of your thigh, then hovered over you again, his cock straining visibly in his sweats.

“God,” he whispered, eyes raking over you. “You’re so fucking pretty like this. Laid out for me.”

Your hands reached for him, desperate. “I want you, Jungkook. I don’t wanna wait.”

“You won’t,” he said, voice curling around you like silk and smoke.

He shoved his pants down just enough to free himself, stroking himself slowly as he stared at you.

“You’ve got no idea what you do to me,” he murmured. “No idea how long i wanna be inside you.”

You reached between your legs, spreading yourself open for him.

His mouth dropped open slightly. “Fuck.”

He lined himself up, eyes locked on yours. “Tell me if i go too fast, okay?”

You nodded, heart hammering. “I trust you.”

That did something to him.

He pushed in slow, deep, all at once.

Your breath hitched, legs trembling.

“Holy fuck,” Jungkook groaned, head falling to your shoulder. “You feel like heaven. So wet for me already.”

You clung to him, nails dragging lightly down his back.

“Move,” you gasped. “I need you.”

He obeyed without hesitation, pulling back, then slamming into you again with a rhythm that made your head spin.

It was hard and deep. Like he knew exactly how to tear you apart and put you back together.

“Baby,” he breathed, panting against your throat, “you’re taking me so well.”

You moaned, legs tightening around him.

“You always this tight, or is it just for me?”

“Only you,” you choked out, voice cracking. “Only ever been like this for you.”

That made him growl.

“You feel perfect. Like you’re made for me.”

Every thrust dragged a whimper from your lips. Every kiss to your neck made you melt further under him.

You could feel how careful he was, even in the roughness. Like he wanted you to feel claimed, but not hurt. Never that.

“You like when i talk like this?” he asked, voice low in your ear.

“Yes,” you moaned. “Fuck, Jungkook.”

“You make me lose my mind, princess. Got me thinking about you all day. Couldn’t wait to fuck you full of my come inside.”

Your back arched, nails digging into his shoulders.

He shifted his hips, angling deeper. “You gonna come for me like this? Gonna come on my cock hm?”

You nodded desperately, tears brimming at the corners of your eyes. “Yes….don’t stop.”

“Look at me,” he whispered.

You did.

And in the silence that followed, he slowed down, but pressed in deep and stayed there.

His body trembled above yours, like he was holding something that wasn’t his release, but something heavier.

You cupped his cheek gently. “Jungkook?”

His voice broke.

“I love you,” he whispered; then again, faster, almost panicked. “I love you so much it’s scaring me.”

You stared up at him, eyes wide.

“I—” His throat worked as he swallowed, his brows drawn tight with emotion. “I never thought i’d have this. You. I never thought someone like you would ever even look at me.”

“Jungkook—”

“I used to watch you,” he continued, voice cracking. “In class. You were always so confident. So distant. But then you sat next to me,” he growled. “God, i still remember the way you looked that day. I thought it was a joke. Like there’s no way you would sit beside me.”

Your chest ached. He kept going.

“But you did. You stayed. You talked to me. You let me see pieces of you no one else gets to. And i still don’t know why. I still think maybe you’ll wake up and realize you could do better and just… leave.”

You shook your head, eyes stinging.

“But you don’t,” he whispered. “You stayed. You’ve been patient with me when i don’t know what to say. You still kiss me like i matter.”

His voice dropped lower, barely a breath.

“I don’t know what i did to deserve you. But fuck—i’m so glad you exist. I’m so glad you sat next to me.”

Your lips parted, but nothing came out.

He saw the silence as hesitation, and something in his face crumpled.

“It’s okay,” he said quickly, pulling back just slightly. “You don’t have to say it back. I just….i needed you to know. Even if i’m not what you expected. Even if I’m not enough.”

And that’s when it hit you.

This boy; this quiet, soft-hearted boy had been holding it in for months.

You surged up and kissed him.

You kissed him like you were giving him an answer.

He gasped against your lips when you pulled away.

“I love you,” you whispered. “Are you kidding? You’re everything i want and more.”

He blinked, stunned.

“I didn’t say it sooner because i was scared i’d ruin this,” you said. “But Jungkook… you are everything i could ever ask for.”

He let out a shaky breath, half a laughing, half a sobbing as he kissed you again, deeper this time, needily.

You weren’t sure what hurt more. The way he was moving inside you, or the way he was looking at you.

Like you were something he’d never believed he could have.

Every thrust was deep, steady, but trembling with emotion. He was holding on for dear life. His forehead pressed to yours, sweat on his brow, his breath hot and uneven.

“God,” Jungkook groaned, voice raw, “you feel so good, too good.”

You cupped his face again, thumbs brushing over his flushed cheeks. “You can let go. i’ve got you.”

But he didn’t. Not yet.

“I don’t want this to end,” he whispered. “I don’t want us to end.”

“We won’t,” you said softly. “I’m right here baby.”

He choked on a breath, hips stuttering. “I’ve never… never loved anyone like this.”

You nodded, tears welling. “Me either.”

And still, he didn’t stop moving. Not when your body clung to his like a prayer, as your nails curled against his back, while your lips parted with little gasps that sounded like his name.

“Let go, baby,” you whispered. “I want you to come inside. Cmon baby.”

His pace faltered; sharper, desperate. “Can’t believe you’re mine,” he breathed. “Can’t believe it’s you.”

Then, with a deep groan against your neck, he finally gave in as he shuddered in your arms, body tensing, spilling into you like it was all too much and not enough at once.

You held him through it.

Through the tremble in his limbs.

He whispered “I love you” that followed on the heels release. Ropes of come dripping out as he pulls out slowly then inside again. You moaned at the sensation.

He didn’t move for a while. He just stayed there, inside you, wrapped around you, like he couldn’t stand to lose the warmth.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, stroking his hair. “You don’t have to hold on so tight.”

He nuzzled into your shoulder. “I want to, though.”

“I know,” you smiled. “Me too.”

Eventually, he shifted, settling beside you, your bodies still tangled beneath the blankets.

The silence was heavy but comforting. No more fear. No more holding back.

Just breathing. Together.

You turned to look at him, and he was already watching you.

“What?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

He traced your jaw with his thumb, eyes soft.

“Out of everyone in this whole world… somehow, it was you.”

Your chest ached.

You kissed him, slow and deep and sure.

And you thought, yeah.

Somehow, it was him too.

[writesvani]

전정국 | 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Barcelona’s streets are full of legends — but none quite like Jungkook, the soccer prodigy who’s taken the city by storm.

You’re the ultimate nepo baby with a sharp tongue and a knack for making everyone question how you got here. He’s the cocky soccer star who’s determined to prove you’re more style than substance. You’re sarcastic, entitled, and completely self-aware; he’s loud, extroverted, and impossible to ignore.

Together, you clash like two unstoppable forces—witty insults flying, chemistry crackling, and a rivalry that no one saw coming.

So go ahead—try to keep your cool. But be warned: in Barcelona, the only thing hotter than the summer sun is the mess you’re about to get tangled in.

brother's best friend, enemies to lovers, sports romance

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: soccer!player jungkook × nepo!baby y/n

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: fluff, angst & smut, separate warnings will be listed in each chapter

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: coming soon

ʟɪɴᴇᴠᴇʀsᴇ ɢᴜɪᴅᴇ

ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ʟɪɴᴇ (ᴛᴀᴇ'ꜱ sᴛᴏʀʏ) @jungkoode

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: click HERE to join

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪɴᴅᴇx ׅ ‎ ˖ ݁

✦ ․ ˚ ݁⠀⠀․ ＃ chapter one: the toe incident ✎ 𓂃

✦ ․ ˚ ݁⠀⠀․ ＃ chapter two:

✦ ․ ˚ ݁⠀⠀․ ＃ chapter three:

✦ ․ ˚ ݁⠀⠀․ ＃ chapter four:

✦ ․ ˚ ݁⠀⠀․ ＃ chapter five:

✦ ․ ˚ ݁⠀⠀․ ＃ chapter six:

✦ ․ ˚ ݁⠀⠀․ ＃ chapter seven:

✦ ․ ˚ ݁⠀⠀․ ＃ chapter eight:

✦ ․ ˚ ݁⠀⠀․ ＃ chapter nine:

✦ ․ ˚ ݁⠀⠀․ ＃ chapter ten:

ᴇxᴛʀᴀꜱ & ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ ׅ ‎ ˖ ݁

✦ ․ ˚ ݁⠀⠀․ ＃ BTL moodboard

✦ ․ ˚ ݁⠀⠀․ ＃ lineverse playlist

+ more coming soon.

ᴅɪꜱᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ ׅ ‎ ˖ ݁

I do not own Jeon Jungkook, BTS, FC Barcelona, the sport of soccer, or literally anyone or anything else famous that appears in this chaotic masterpiece. If I did, I’d be writing this from a beach in Ibiza, not my questionable Wi-Fi connection. Everything here is pure fiction and the product of my sleep-deprived brain. Please don’t sue me. I’m broke, and my only asset is half a pack of gum and crippling emotional attachment to fictional men.

all works published here are created by me (@writesvani on tumblr). i own all rights to my original works, including any written content, original characters, and plotlines. copying, redistributing, translating, or posting my works on any other social media without my explicit permission is strictly prohibited. all rights reserved.

[spideyjimin]

Wait for your love | jjk

—  pairing: firefighter!jungkook x female reader 

—  genre: kind of exes to lovers, parents au, angst, fluff, and smut 

— rating: 18+ 

—  summary: sixteen years ago, your life was turned upside down when you surrendered to the temptation — none other than jungkook, the star basketball player on your school’s team. today, after all that time, you reunite under tragic circumstances; a car crash where he saves your life.

—  words: 17,383

—  warnings: strong language, car accident, blood, mention of pregnancy, mention of cheating, mention of divorce, mention of sex, sever injuries, mention of death, crying, mention of heartbreak, mention of breakup, oc suffers quite a lot, mention of unprotected sex, mention of fire, mention of fighting, kissing, pain struggle, tattooed!jungkook, dom!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, praising, oc and jungkook are needy, choking, a bit of fingering, a bit of handjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, morning sex, slow sex (is it even a thing?), and creampie

—  author’s note: so here you finally have this fic 🤗 i’ve been working on it for a little while already & i’ve adored writing it! To be honest, this is my fav jk that i’ve ever written 🫣I truly hope you’ll enjoy this fic as much as i’ve enjoyed writing it ✨ don’t hesitate to let me know what you think of it ❤️

—  playlist: supernatural | forget about us | standing next to you | bed chem | juno

MASTERLIST

The sound of the sirens echoes in your ears.

Your eyes are completely shut, your entire body hurts, and you put your hand on your head as if you’re trying to stop the pain you’re feeling. Slowly you try to open your eyes, and you see the completely broken windshield of your car. You take a look around to notice how damaged the inside of your car is.

It’s pretty bad.

Your eyes flutter shut once more, the effort to keep them open too much to bear. Gradually, you feel yourself falling asleep. As you slip into slumber, your mind is drawn back to a painful memory — the day you gave your son up for adoption.  

Being a teen mother wasn’t on your plans. Even though you really wanted to become a mother, it simply wasn’t possible then. Having a kid at sixteen wouldn’t be easy and for sure, you wouldn’t be able to offer a proper life to that kid. It wouldn’t be fair to him to keep him only because you wished to become a mother. He deserved to have a good life, to have loving parents, and to accomplish all his dreams.

On top of that, the baby was living proof that you cheated on your then-boyfriend. Definitely, you weren’t proud of yourself. The father of your baby was a bit of a jerk, but, when he found out about your pregnancy, he showed nothing but support. It was surprising, but it felt great to have him by your side.

Giving your son up for adoption was devastatingly hard. But it was the best for him. After that, you spent the last sixteen years wondering what he had become. Every boy you met that’d match his age; you’d wonder if it was him. And sometimes, you’d regret abandoning him. In those moments, crying was the only solution.

As hard as possible, you resist the urge to fall asleep, but the headache is making this battle hard to fight.

“Ma'am,” you hear a distant voice.

Those words echo in your mind, and strangely, it feels like this voice is a familiar one. The pain must be causing some hallucination, you think. But as hard as you can, you try to find out who could be the owner of that voice.

While you think, your eyes open a bit before closing again. Your hand remains on your head, and suddenly, you remember who it is. It is the father of your firstborn.

As you realize who it might be, you shake your head. It’s impossible to be him. After the birth of your baby, you went separate ways and never heard of him anymore. Sometimes, you hope to meet him again to check what he has become.

That man was handsome as hell so you’re absolutely sure that he found someone, got married, and had children. From time to time, you think about him and wonder if he also thinks about your baby as much as you do. Maybe he doesn’t since you’re convinced he has new children to think of.

But that’s silly of you to think that because after your firstborn, you had three other adorable children: two girls, Jia and Jiwoo, and a little boy, Jeong. Being their mother and caring about them never made you forget about your first.

On top of being a mother, you also got married to Minkyu. You met him three years after giving birth, and you were convinced he was the love of your life. However, you ended up divorcing after eight years of marriage. It wasn’t easy, you felt like a total failure. Now, you’re living on your own, sharing custody of your three babies with your ex-husband. Luckily, you remained on good terms, you’d even say you’re friends now.

For the past two years, you’ve been focusing on yourself which means no relationships. But that doesn’t exclude one-night stands. You’re very careful as you don’t want your children to one day stumble upon one of the guys you’ve been fucking with. And you also want to avoid getting pregnant again.

When you planned on stopping the pill to have a child with Minkyu, your gynecologist told you that you seemed to be the fertile type. She was quite right since you got pregnant right after stopping the pill. In three years, you had three kids. So, it explains it all. And it also explains how you easily got pregnant at sixteen, the only time you didn’t use protection.

Now, you’re wondering if this is how your life ends. You’ve last seen your kids four days ago, you’re probably never going to fall in love again, and you’re never going to see your firstborn. This is a tragic way to die. Your mind only thinks about your babies.

Although your mind feels disconnected from your body, you sense a pair of strong arms lifting you up.  Your body is completely sore, and even being held in someone’s arms is painful. The person is talking to you, or at least talking to someone but your brain doesn’t process the words at all.   

Then, the pain knocks you up.

Jungkook and his team got called for a car accident involving several cars, and when they arrived, the scene was horrific.

There are probably five cars pressed and smashed one against the other. There are people injured and bleeding walking around the scene. Paramedics are already taking care of them, but Jungkook is walking to the cars to retrieve the people stuck inside. His captain screams orders and tells him which car he should go to.

His eyes look around, his heart breaking when he sees everyone involved and still stuck in their cars. Visions like this are quite common for him, it doesn’t happen all the time but it’s still recurrent. At the end of the day, his job is to save people in this type of situation.

When he reaches the car, he was assigned to, he takes a look at how many people there are inside. There’s just one person, a woman behind the steering wheel. She has her hand on her head, clearly showing that she might have a headache. She doesn’t really move. Instantly, Jungkook tries to open the door, but it’s showing a bit of resistance.

It feels impossible to open the door, but Jungkook sees the woman’s head falling. He’s getting worrier; she’s slumping into sleep which isn’t a good sign as she was holding her head barely seconds ago. He then proceeds to break the window so he can try to open it from inside. There are other possible ways, but it would be harder and more dangerous to get her out of the vehicle.

“Ma’am,” he says with urge.

Eventually, he manages to open the damn door from the inside. A good part of the car’s front is crashing into her. Before even thinking of taking her out, he places a cervical collar to protect her neck and spine.

“Ma’am,” he repeats. “Can you hear me?”

She doesn’t answer at all. Jungkook gets closer, his fingers brushing the hair from her face, but when he finally gets to properly see the woman’s face, his heart skips a beat. This woman is none other than you. His mind can’t start to get lost in the past right now. He needs to focus on taking you out of the car.   

You’re in pretty bad shape.

There’s blood on your forehead, you most probably have a wound on top of your head. There’s also blood at the level of your stomach, turning your green shirt into a very dark color. He can distinguish a big fragment of glass shoved into your belly. It doesn’t look good. Your legs are also completely smashed by the front, causing the steering wheel to be very close to your body.  Hopefully, your legs aren’t too injured. He doesn’t even want to start thinking about all the bruises on your body.

Slowly, he places one hand behind your back while his other hand slowly pushes your legs. He’s trying to be as careful as possible to avoid causing any other injury.  His strong arms hold you once he manages to fully remove you from the car. His eyes look down at your face with evident pain. He notices how you’re trying to open your eyes which makes him think that you’re trying to fight the urge to fall asleep.

“Yn,” he says while walking to an ambulance. “Please, stay with me,” he whispers with despair. “I’ve finally found you, and I can’t lose you right away.”

A tear streams down his face as Jungkook begins to run. “Fuck, fuck,” he mumbles when he realizes that you’ve now fallen asleep.  “Help me here,” he shouts to some paramedics.

Two people run in his direction with a stretcher, and he carefully places you there. His eyes never leave you until you’re placed inside an ambulance.

Never did he think he’d find you like this. For the past sixteen years, he imagined the many ways he’d stumble upon you. He thought of meeting you randomly one day in the streets, in a shop, or even in a restaurant. Meeting you after a car crash wasn’t on his mind at all.

Jungkook then proceeds to take care of the other people stuck in their cars. His job isn’t over yet, other people are waiting for his help. Thankfully enough, after so many years of experience, he’s able to focus on what he has to do.

Slowly, you open your eyes. Instinctively, you place your hand on your head since you last remember having a headache, but it doesn’t hurt—at least not anymore. For a brief moment, you close your eyes again while trying to understand what happened.  

Once you open your eyes once more, you look around to realize that you’re lying on a hospital bed. You’re in a room, an individual one. Although you’re alone in a room, can hear many people talking outside.

In the midst of all the noise, you distinguish your sister’s voice. You can’t really understand what she’s saying but she seems worried. Somebody is talking to her, but you don’t recognize the voice. After a little while, your sister opens the door to join you.

A smile appears on her face when she sees you awake. “Yn,” she says before hugging you. You wrap your arms around her, she’s holding you tight. There’s no need for her to speak for you to understand she was dead worried. It also leaves you wondering if you’re really in a bad situation.  When she finally takes a step back, you can see how worried she is.

“I was death worried,” she says. “I thought you died.”

Those words crunch your heart. The simple thought of picturing your sister thinking that is heartbreaking. However, you’re still here. Maybe not in your best shape but you’re still alive.

“Death was too afraid of me,” you jokingly say.

“It’s not funny,” she’s definitely annoyed that you’re joking. “It’s very bad, yn.”

Her eyes don’t betray her, it doesn’t look great. For sure, it’s bad since you remember seeing your car completely destroyed. Memories of the car crash come back. It happened quite fast. The car in front of you didn’t notice the car on the left. Two vehicles in front of you suddenly collided with each other. Due to the small distance and minimal reaction time, you were unable to stop in time, which led to you colliding into the cars. The same happened to the cars behind colliding into you.

“Two people died in the crash, yn, and the doctors didn’t give me many details when they called me,” she explains.

“How long have I been here?” you ask.

It leaves you wondering how long it has been since the car crash happened.

“Almost two days,” she informs.

“Oh,” you simply say.

Your sister then proceeds to explain to you that you went through a couple of surgeries.

When you arrived, you had a glass shoved into your stomach and it caused some damage. You were bleeding internally so you first had surgery to remove the glass and stitch any part of your intestines that needed to be repaired.

On top of that, your knees were destroyed and a part of your hips was broken. So after the stomach surgery, you went through a long surgery to repair your knees, and later on, another one to repair your hips.

Your sister doesn’t know the specificities of the surgeries, but those surgeries are already a lot. She also tells you that you evidently have bruises and scratches all over your body. It definitely sounds bad, but you’re under the influence of painkillers so you don’t really feel anything so far.

“Where are Jia, Jiwoo, and Jeong?” you ask looking around.

“Minkyu took them back home a couple of hours ago,” she tells you.

If your sister was dead worried, you can’t even start to imagine how your kids were feeling. You have such a strong bond with them, and they are still so young; your little Jiwoo is only four years old. You don’t even doubt that they started imagining the worst.

“How are they?” you ask.

“As you can imagine, it’s been harder for them than for anyone else,” your heart aches. “They’ve been crying a lot.”

You close your eyes, holding back the tears. It breaks your heart to have put your babies through this. Even though it’s far from being your fault, you never want to hurt your babies like that. Your role as a mother is to protect them.

“We’ve all been there for them,” she adds.

A tear runs down your face.

“Don’t worry, big sis,” she says before hugging you once more. “They’ll be so happy to see you fully awake.”

You hold her tight in your embrace to comfort you in some kind of way. For a little while, you both stay like this.

“There’s been a firefighter coming to visit you every day,” she whispers in your ear. “A handsome one, actually.”

A little giggle escapes your lips.

“Stop saying nonsense,” you give her a little tap.

She takes a step back with the brightest smile on her face.

“I’m very serious, yn,” she says. “The firefighter that saved you has been coming to check up on you.”

Well, it sounds like he’s kind of adorable. It’s definitely very sweet of him to take the time to check up on you after saving your life.

“He’s extremely hot too,” she adds.

“Stop it,” you say. “You’re exaggerating!”

“I am not!” she instantly replies. “You’ll see when he comes.”

You roll your eyes. She’s definitely unbelievable as always, but she’s your sister. You love her beyond comprehension because she was your very first baby. You have a ten-year gap and you’ve been taking care of her since the very first minute she was born. Your parents had her very late; they were almost 40 years old but the happiest.

When you were around two, they started trying to have a second child. However, it didn’t go as planned. Your mother suffered two miscarriages and after that, it became even harder to have a child. Eventually, when you were around eight, they gave up. They were happy to have you and settled with the idea that you’d be an only child.

But against all odds, a year later, she got pregnant. The pregnancy went to full term, and that’s how you became a big sister.

The gap between you was harder around your teenage years. All you were thinking about was boys, and all she wanted was to play. She also wanted to have a younger sibling, but your parents were already too old for that. Your mum said that she couldn’t handle another big age gap between her kids.

Your sister was the happiest when you announced your pregnancy at sixteen. She was only six back then, and that baby would have been like the little sibling she always desired to have. She was devastated when you explained to her that you wouldn’t keep the baby. Your parents were too but they understood and supported your decision.

Outside your parents, nobody ever knew that Jungkook was the father of your first son. At first, your ex-boyfriend thought that he was the father, that maybe a condom broke and that’s how you got pregnant. But you always knew that he wasn’t the father. It simply wasn’t possible. It all got confirmed when you birthed a baby that looked a lot like Jungkook.

You still remember how heartbroken your ex was, and you couldn’t blame him. The breakup was too hard to handle back then so you never told anyone who the father was, except for Jungkook. He deserved to know the truth. You weren’t expecting much from him as he was the basketball star of your school team. And above anything else, he was a complete jerk.

Nevertheless, he proved you wrong when he supported you. He was by your side for the entirety of the pregnancy. He came to all the ultrasounds and gynecologist's appointments. He was there, and he completely stopped being a jerk to your eyes. Eventually, you became closer, but you refused to be more than friends even though you had strong feelings for him.

Why?

Because it’d be too hard to stay with him after giving up your son for adoption. Jungkook was also supposed to leave for one of the best colleges after that. It was in another city, and you knew he’d stay if you dated. You refused to let him give up his dreams for you. You broke his heart; you could see it in his eyes, but it was for the best. If you were meant to be, you’d find your way back. But it never happened. After that, you completely lose contact.  

There’s a knock on the door. Your sister proceeds to open it, letting the person come in. “Speaking of the devil,” she turns her head to look at you with the brightest smile on her face.

When the famous live-savior firefighter enters, the entire world completely freezes. The firefighter is none other than Jungkook. Your heart skips a beat when your eyes meet. After all these years, you finally see him again.

A smile spreads on his face when he sees you awake. You can tell that he’s relieved. For an instant, you take a proper look at him. He’s still wearing his firefighter uniform, indicating that he most probably came from a mission — if that’s the correct word to use. His hair is very short and a tiny bit messy. Above anything else, he absolutely looks tired, the dark circles under his eyes betraying him.

“Hi,” he simply says as he takes a step inside.

“Hi, Jungkook,” you reply.

Your sister is at first taken aback by the fact that you know his name, but as she takes a proper look at your facial expressions, she can tell that you know him.

“I’ll leave you two,” she says before disappearing.

“How are you feeling?” he asks while getting closer.

“I guess fine for now, but not sure, how I’ll feel when the painkillers will no longer have any effects.”   

His eyes scan your face while yours do the same. His beauty is still breathtaking; you’d even say that he aged like fine wine.

“Thanks for rescuing me from the car crash,” you add.

“No need to thank me,” he instantly replies. “It’s part of my job.”

“I still need to. Without you, I wouldn’t be here today.”

Even though it’s part of his job, he saved you, and he deserves to be thanked for that. You would have said it to any other firefighter.

“It’s good to see you awake,” he says.

There is so much you want to say to him, but at the same time, now that you have him in front of you, you don’t even know what to say.

“I just quickly passed by to check up on you,” he informs you. “I need to get back to work.”

“No problems,” you reply. “Thanks for coming.”

“Would you mind if I come back later?” he nervously asks.

Your heart is now racing in your chest. Of course, you want him to come back so you get to catch up and find out how he went from basketball player to firefighter.

“No, I wouldn’t mind,” a little smile appears on your face.

“Thanks,” he says before waving goodbye and leaving your room.

Seconds later, your sister storms inside your room. She has that expression on her face that says: ‘who the hell is this guy?’.

“Who is he?” she asks while taking a seat.

She’s definitely expecting to hear something like: “he’s a guy I slept with after my breakup”, or “I met him at a bar”, or anything of that sort because it was obvious there was something going on between you. The look you both had wasn’t saying we were simply friends. It was a look screaming “something hot and sexy happened between us”.

“The guy that knocked me up sixteen years ago.”

“Mama,” your oldest daughter, Jia says. “When are you leaving the hospital?”

An hour ago, the doctor in charge of you came to explain the extent of the situation to you. Since you now have metal wires in your knees, you’ll have to go through a long recovery, and you’ll have to follow physiotherapy to learn how to walk again.

On top of that, your intestines were stitched, and it will definitely be hard for a moment to eat and drink. So, for at least ten days, you’ll remain in observation at the hospital. There is for sure a very long recovery ahead of you, but what matters is that you’re still alive.

For what is coming, you know you can count on your family’s support, and without any doubts, seeing your babies will help you navigate the hard times. Obviously, you’re also very self-aware that sometimes, it might be too hard, and during those times, even your support system won’t be enough.

“I’ll stay for a little while, boo,” you answer.

She seems a bit sad by your answer which is totally understandable. Briefly, you take a look at Jiwoo and Jeong to see if they also look sad, and they have the exact same facial expression as their older sister.

Your ex-husband, Minkyu is also present. It’s logical since it’s his week with them, and also because you were literally in a coma. When your eyes meet, you give him a little smile. By the way he’s looking at you, he definitely seems worried.

“But you’ll see, time will go by super-fast,” you try to reassure them. “And very soon, I’ll be home with you.”

You can’t wait to go home and be with them even though for a little while, due to the recovery time, it won’t be easy at all. But you’ll be with your babies which honestly is the only thing that matters.

Your babies jump on the bed and hug you. Feeling all this love coming from the little human beings you create warms your heart beyond comprehension. Although the pain is starting to kick in, you pretend like you don’t feel anything because you want to savor this moment with them.

Jeong, your son, shows you what he drew at school for you. He takes the time to explain what it represents. It’s definitely adorable. Then, Jiwoo tells you how her day went by. She played a lot with her friends, she learned to count until 20, and her teacher told her she was an amazing learner. Her face was shining, and you couldn’t be prouder.

Your oldest daughter doesn’t speak much, letting her younger siblings talk. You then try to make her talk about her day, but she bursts into tears, hiding her face in your chest. Your heart definitely breaks while you hold her in your arms.

“What happened, boo?” you caress her back, trying to comfort her as much as you can.

She’s heavily crying, your shirt getting wet with her tears.

“My little boo-boo,” you whisper. “What’s going on?” you add. “Tell me.”

She hugs you even more which squeezes your heart. You don’t like seeing your babies like that.

“I thought you were dead, mommy,” she sniffs.

“Oooh, my boo-boo,” you really want to cry at her words. Imagining her thinking that is one thing but hearing her saying it out loud is something completely different. “I’m so sorry.” That’s all you can say.

Jiwoo and Jeong join the hug, trying in their own way to comfort their big sister. This is a heartwarming hug, and it comforts you beyond comprehension. It’s hard to see them like that, but it’ll get better with time. Minkyu joins you for what is like a family hug now. This right here is the only thing that you need.

After this uplifting moment, your ex-husband and babies leave you alone in this cold hospital room. They need to go back home; the kids need to wash, do their homework, and get ready for bed. You wish they could have stayed longer because you don’t want to stay alone.  

The pain is now unbearable, and it honestly scares you for the long recovery awaiting you. Luckily, right after your family left, a nurse came in to give you dinner together with strong painkillers.

The food is —as imagined— disgusting. There’s nothing you can do about it, but tomorrow, you’ll try to convince your sister to bring you a pizza or sushi or some fast food. There’s no way you’ll survive ten days with this horrible food.

A little later, someone knocks at the door. As promised earlier, Jungkook appears inside your room with a bright smile on his face. You return the smile as it honestly makes you happy that he’s here.

“Hi,” you say.

For a brief moment, your eyes linger on his figure. He’s no longer in his firefighter uniform;  he’s dressed in an all-black outfit that, in all honesty, suits him well. A pair of jeans, a tight shirt, and a leather jacket give him an entirely different vibe from earlier. His hair, now perfectly arranged, makes him look strikingly similar to how he did sixteen years ago.  

“Hi,” he walks closer to you.

His eyes notice the serving tray with the empty plate.

“Was it good?” he points to the empty plate.

“It definitely wasn’t,” a little laugh escapes your lips while you shake your head. “The good thing is that the dessert was a chocolate mousse.”

Jungkook’s smile grows bigger on his face.

“Your favorite dessert,” he whispers.

Now, you’re the one smiling more. When pregnant, you could eat a chocolate mousse without growing tired of it. Due to that, you gained quite some weight during your first pregnancy. Anyway, it was the least of your concerns since you knew you were about to give your son up for adoption.

“You still remember…”

“How couldn’t I?” he instantly says. “You were eating it night and day.”

You giggle as you remember it.

“You weren’t helping too,” you accuse him. “Whenever I’d ask for one, you’d make it, and you’re a good cooker.”

Jungkook was your personal chef. Whatever dish you’d ask for, he’d prepare it. His mousses were so delicious that you found yourself always craving them. The ones from the supermarket simply couldn’t compare to Jungkook’s.

“Well, for my defense, I couldn’t let a pregnant woman starve,” he puts his hands up.

It doesn’t feel like sixteen years happened since you last spoke. It’s great you found each other again. It wasn’t under great circumstances, but he’s here now.

“That was nice of you,” you gently say.

“Do you mind if I take a seat?” he points to the chair near your bed.

“No, no,” you shake your head.

Jungkook sits down before turning to you. He’s incredibly close now, allowing you to get a better look at him. He’s definitely gotten older, the wrinkles on his face can’t lie. The beginning of a beard is also easily noticeable.

“How bad does it hurt?” he seriously asks.

“Is it that obvious?” you say.

Jungkook nods. Honestly, this time around the painkillers aren’t helping much. Your entire body aches, you can’t even say which part hurts more.

“It’s pretty bad,” you answer. “Even with the painkillers now, it hurts like hell.”

“If you want, I can call a nurse,” he suggests.

“No, it’s fine,” you answer. “I’ll probably need to wait a bit more before it really takes effect.”

Jungkook doesn’t really listen to you since he leaves the room. You roll your eyes but with a big smile on your face. It’s incredible how he didn’t change after all these years. He used to never believe you when you were in pain.

A few seconds later, he comes back with a nurse. They are talking, and he’s explaining that I’m in extreme pain. He’s exaggerating a bit the reality. However, the nurse administers you a stronger painkiller and she also tells you that you shouldn’t hesitate to call her if you’re suffering. Then, she leaves. Slowly, you’re finally feeling the pain going away.

“You didn’t need to do that,” you tell him once the nurse leaves the room.

“Yes, I needed,” he instantly says. “There’s no way I was leaving you suffering unnecessarily.”

Jungkook seems definitely concerned.

“You don’t have to play the strong girl after this terrible car crash.”

He’s not wrong, but this is one of your flaws. You’ll only take a painkiller unless you don’t have much of a choice. Most of the time, you don’t take anything as you’re convinced you can handle anything.

You simply nod while Jungkook sits again on the chair. This time, you start talking about what has been going on in your lives for the past sixteen years.

Jungkook barely managed to finish his college years because he honestly had his mind somewhere else. After all, he had become a father, given his son up for adoption, and had his heart broken by the girl he always had a crush on. He didn’t mention the last part. He had tremendous regrets about how everything went down.

Right after college, he became a firefighter; a passion he randomly discovered the summer before. Saving lives, and helping others in need is what truly fulfills him. He considers his job as his own therapy even though it’s not always easy to deal with the horrific visions he might encounter.

Eight years ago, he met a French girl who had recently moved here. They fell in love and had a little boy, Noah. He’s four years old today; the same age as your youngest daughter. His eyes were filled with love when he started speaking about him. He said his boy is a mini version of his mother so he barely looks Korean. He even has blue eyes.

However, he’s no longer with her. They broke up three years ago and they aren’t really on good terms today. She already threatened to move back to France with Noah. They went through a tough legal battle for their son’s custody. It’s a shared one, and Jungkook’s parents are the intermediates between them. They pick up Noah at her place to bring him to Jungkook’s, and vice versa.  

It honestly broke your heart to hear about all that. It doesn’t seem to be an easy situation, and hearing his story makes you feel even more grateful for the good relationship you maintain with Minkyu.  

Then, you proceed to tell him about what your life has looked like for the past sixteen years.

“Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about our son,” you honestly say.

Four months ago, on the 2nd of June to be precise, your son turned sixteen. He’s the age you were when you gave birth to him. Since that day, you’ve definitely been wondering what he has become. Is he also about to become a father? You hope not.

“Well, I always think about him, but lately, it’s been more than usual,” you explain. “And I also imagine him with my other kids, and I wonder what bond they’d have.”

Jungkook only nods. “I get that,” those are his only words.

You refrain from continuing to talk about your son as it seems to affect him in some way. Maybe it’s simply too hard for him to think about that son you didn’t keep. You understand that so you prefer to stop talking. But his next words definitely catch you by surprise.

“I’ve found our son.”

Seventeen years ago

As you step inside the pretty big basketball court, your eyes immediately look for a place to sit. There aren’t many people watching the team’s training. You place yourself in the very last row, almost as if you’re trying to hide yourself —or to hide your little secret.

Instinctively, your eyes look for Jungkook, the best basketball player. He’s the reason for your presence. Quickly, you take a look at your watch. The training should be over soon.

Your heart is beating crazily in your chest. What you have to tell him isn’t easy, especially since you don’t really know what to do. You’re actually even convinced that he’ll tell you to fuck off. Jungkook is known to be a jerk after all.

The man notices you while running in the court. His eyebrows frown, as you’re the last person he was expecting to see here. The past month has been hectic because things have been hot and cold with you. For a while already, he has been having a massive crush on you, but he’s never said anything because you’re in a relationship with Minho.

Even though he’s known to be an asshole, he never wanted to be the reason for your separation. However, last month, you had sex, and you’ve been feeling guilty since then. He can only understand you so he’s stayed away to give you the space you need. Nevertheless, you would sometimes interact and to his surprise, you’d be nice.

“Jungkook,” someone screams.

He grabs the ball that is thrown at him, and he’s focused again on the game. The end comes rapidly. Jungkook walks directly in your direction and you give him a little smile. As he gets closer, he instantly notices the sadness in your eyes. He sits down next to you with heavy breathing. His face is red, his hair is wet, and he’s all sweaty.

“Hi,” he says with a smile.

“Hi,” you reply.

Deep down, he’s kind of hoping you’re here to tell him that you’ve broken up with Minho. That’s all he’s ever wanted, especially since he slept with you.

“How are you?” he asks with evident concern.

“Not good,” you bite your lower lip, tears already forming in your eyes.

Jungkook directly pushes you into his arms to comfort you. Tears stream down your face while you hold him tight in your embrace. You hold him as if your world depends on it. Quickly, you start sobbing which breaks Jungkook’s heart. He’s definitely worried now, especially since he would have never imagined you coming to cry into his arms. He gently rubs your back in silence, letting you cry in peace.

This scene seems unreal to him.

After a little while, you take a step back to clean your face, dabbing at the tears that seem to not stop. You’re sure you look like a complete mess right now with your red eyes, face ravaged with tears, and trembling hands. Jungkook is staring at you, his gaze filled with heavy unspoken words.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“Don’t worry,” he replies.

Jungkook tugs a strand of hair behind your ear.

“It’s not easy what I have to say,” you admit.

“It’s okay,” he gently says. “Take your time.”  

Jungkook has never been a jerk with you. He’s definitely a tease, and he’s been teasing you for months now. But he has never been mean or rude. Even though it’s been quite obvious to you that he was flirting with you all this time, he’s been nothing but respectful and never crossed the line.

But that was until you couldn’t resist him anymore.

Obviously, he’s a very handsome guy and it flattered you a lot that he was interested in you. However, you’re in a relationship with Minho. He’s been your boyfriend for a couple of months, and you adore him. But Jungkook has shaken everything up. It was obvious that one day you would surrender to temptation.

Jungkook is very good in bed, there’s no doubt about it. Your one-night stand was a memorable one, but you’ve felt nothing but guilt since then. And you also hate yourself. How could you have done that to Minho? He’s been nothing but an angel to you. You clearly don’t deserve him.

“I’m pregnant,” you admit.

Jungkook’s body freezes completely. Of all the things he was expecting to hear, this definitely wasn’t one of them. This is quite a bombshell! This will forever change your life, and he can only sympathize with you. Now, it leaves him wondering if he’s the father.

“Is it Minho’s?” he asks after a couple of seconds. “Or mine?”

“It’s yours,” you inform him.

Although this is a piece of very destabilizing news, he kind of feels proud to be the father of your child. It’s a weird feeling but the chances of him being the father are quite low since you’re in a relationship.

“You’re sure?” he asks.

“Of course, I am,” you almost sound offended. “I always use protection with Minho,” you whisper. “And if you remember correctly, we didn’t.”

“Right,” he nods.

You were so in the heat that a condom was the last thing you both thought of, but you used the pullout method. Looks like it wasn’t the brightest idea. It would have been best if you had been more careful. Now it’s too late to go back in time. Now, there’s a baby on the way.  

“I’m so scared to tell him,” you admit.

Tears start running down your face again.

“What will I become now?” you add. “My life is ruined.”

Jungkook cleans your face because he doesn’t like to see you in this state.

“Your life isn’t ruined, yn,” his thumb caresses your cheek.

“How can’t it be ruined?” you desperately say. “I’m pregnant; I'll give birth in less than nine months. My life will all be about that baby, I’ll have to drop school, and I’ll have to be a parent when I’m still a kid.”

The man in front of you can only understand your despair. His life will also drastically change from now on. Most probably, he’ll also need to give up on his dream college to work and provide for this baby.

“I’m here, and we will find a solution,” he whispers. “You’re not alone.”

You shake your head. There’s no way you’ll find a solution. It is simple: there’s a baby on the way, and outside that, there’s the whole situation where you cheated on your boyfriend.

“And Minho will be completely heartbroken,” you start crying even more. “Out of all people, he’s the one that doesn’t deserve that!”

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. For sure, it isn’t great to cheat on your partner, but he knows he’s very much capable of doing it without having any remorse. He’s perfectly aware that he isn’t the greatest guy on earth when it comes to love. Even though he has a crush on you, he isn’t convinced he’d be the right one for you.

“My life is destroyed,” you repeat once more.

The basketball player pulls you once again in his embrace. His strong arms are comforting, and you realize now that you did great by coming to talk to him.

“We’ll find a solution,” he whispers in your ear.

Little did you know at that moment that he was right. A week later, you both agreed to give your son up for adoption. It wasn’t an easy decision, but it was the best one. You could feel it inside your bones.

From your room’s window, you admire the landscape that stretches before your eyes. The view isn’t the prettiest but at least, it’s something different than the tv. For the past three days, you could only be lying and sitting on your bed. It’s been horrible.

Jungkook has been coming every day to check up on you, and you’ve been talking a lot. It’s honestly so great to reunite again and to finally discover what he has become for the past years.

Your sister has been very curious about your reunion with the father of your firstborn. She also asked if Minkyu ever knew about him. You never hid from your ex-husband the existence of your first child, but you never told him who the father was. There was no need to do so.  

Your sister informed your parents who saved you, and they already saw him again. They really liked him when you were pregnant, so they were very happy to meet him again.

Jungkook didn’t tell them that he found your firstborn, and you’re grateful he didn’t because you don’t even know what to do. You asked him to give you some time to process the information. He’s been nothing but respectful.

This morning, you started walking for the first time since the surgery. It was beyond painful to even move one leg, but you bear with the pain of walking a little bit. Since the first day, you’ve been having physiotherapy sessions to help with the recovery. At first, the sessions only consisted of moving your legs while remaining in bed. Now, you get to walk a bit.

The physiotherapist handed you a cane today. It’s incredibly glamorous!

The good side is that you can now move from the bed to the chair more easily. You obviously still need a lot of help, but it gives you a bit more freedom.

Slowly, you try to stand up as you need to go to the bathroom. Right there, someone knocks at the door before entering. You expect to see the nurse since you call for her, but you’re surprised to see Jungkook. As he notices you struggling to get up, he rushes to help you out.

“Shouldn’t you be asking for the nurse to help you?” he asks.

“The nurse should be coming,” you reply.

“Is it okay if I place my hands on your waist?” you shake your head.

His hands instantly reach your waist, holding you firmly while you stand up with shaky legs. Feeling his presence around you reassures you, especially with his strong arms holding you. Your eyes quickly glance at him when you’re proudly standing up, and he looks incredibly hot with his red cheeks and messy hair.

At this precise moment, you feel like your teenage self, who was deeply attracted to him. The version of yourself who had deeply fallen in love with him when you were pregnant. That nostalgic feeling kind of warms your heart.

“I’m happy to see you finally out of that bed,” a smile spreads on his face when your eyes meet.

His stare is softer now, and it’s evident that he truly means what he just said.

“Me too,” you admit. “Couldn’t stand being on that bed anymore,” you laugh a little. “It’s been driving me crazy.”  

The nurse finally arrives, but she instantly leaves as you inform her that Jungkook is helping you.

At a very slow pace, you start walking in the bathroom’s direction. Jungkook stands next to you, his hands very close to you, ready to catch you any minute.

“I’ve been thinking,” you start saying as you put your right foot in front of the other.  

“About?” he asks.

It’s extremely frustrating to be walking as fast as a turtle, but there’s not much you can do right now.  You have brand-new knees, so you need to learn to walk with them, which will take some time. Plus, you also need to adjust to the pain these new knees cause.

“About our baby,” you answer.

Jungkook is taken a bit aback; he wasn’t expecting you to bring the topic up this early.

“About Sunny,” you add.

Sunny is the nickname you gave to your son. Neither you nor Jungkook wanted to give him a name, as you knew it’d be too heartbreaking to let him go. The nickname came naturally, and it gave your son a human dimension. When you were pregnant, it almost didn’t feel real that there was a human inside you since you couldn’t see him.

A little smile appears on his face as he remembers how you used to call your firstborn.

“I’d like to hear the story of how you found him.”

For the past sixteen years, you’ve dreamed of meeting your son one day, but it was just a dream. You never thought that it’d actually happen. Obviously, you could have done everything in your power to find him, but that wouldn’t be fair to him. However, you’re now curious to hear how Jungkook found him.

“Well, maybe you should go first to the bathroom because there’s a lot to be said,” you simply nod.

Jungkook is wearing his firefighter uniform, and it suits him incredibly well. It definitely shows off his toned chest which could satisfy any hungry eyes, like yours, for example. Any lady would like to be saved by him.

Once you arrive at the bathroom, he waits outside for you. It takes you a bit of time to pee, wash your hands, and leave the room. It’s painful too, and all you hope for is to go through this terrible phase as fast as possible.

The firefighter helps you to sit on the chair, and his kindness warms your heart. No doubt that he makes a great life savior.

“So, tell me about Sunny,” you say the second you’re comfortably sitting.

Jungkook takes another chair to face you, and he rests his arms on the little table placed in between you.

“I found him to same way I found you,” he looks down at his hands with a little smile on his face. “I was called for a fire in a building complex almost two years ago,” he starts explaining. “It was early in the morning, something like 6 am, and it was a pretty big fire. There was a fourteen-year-old lying on the floor, coughing like crazy so I naturally took him out of the building.”

Jungkook takes a little break, his eyes going from his hands to your eyes. His stare is intense; it unsettles you at first.

“Once outside, I almost felt like I was looking at you and myself at the same time,” his voice is soft. “And one of my colleagues even said that the kid oddly resembled me.”  

You can’t imagine how it must have felt for him.

“I instantly knew it was Sunny, but I kind of didn’t want to believe it,” his eyes clearly show how sad he feels. “If it wasn’t him, it would have broken me. I was already going through shit with my ex, so it wasn’t an easy time for me at that time.”

It’s visibly not easy for him to be talking about the situation with his ex-girlfriend.

“A couple of days later, he appeared at the station with his mother to thank me for saving him. In the daylight, it was more than obvious we shared DNA. Even a blind person could see the striking resemblance, but nobody said a word as if we were all scared to say the truth.”

“That must have been an unbelievable moment,” you whisper.

“It definitely was,” he chuckles. “But looking back now, it’s almost funny. I still remember how shocked his mother was when she first saw me. Sunny looked confused, but his mother’s reaction was extremely funny.”

It eases your heart to know that he looks back at that moment with delight.

“The day after, she came back but alone this time because she wanted to talk to me.”

His right hand grabs one of your fingers to play with it, causing your heart to hammer crazily in your chest. Jungkook is incredibly nervous to be talking about those moments, and he needs to look at something else than you.   

“As you can imagine, she asked me if I was his biological father, and all I could tell her was that I wasn’t sure. I then proceeded to tell her that I had a son at seventeen and that we gave him up for adoption. She naturally asked me when he was born, and then, there weren’t any doubts anymore. He was undoubtedly Sunny,” a smile full of pride appears on his face. “I’ve been in contact with him since then, but I don’t force anything. I’m just happy to see him.”

For a moment, you look at him with wonder. This man is evidently happy to have found his firstborn and to be able to be part of his life. Jungkook didn’t really want to give his son up for adoption, and you knew it. For a long time, you considered changing your mind because it was obvious that he wanted to be a father. Even though you were in love with him, adoption wasn’t about you or him. It was about Sunny.

That baby boy deserved to have a good life. Not a chaotic one where you regretted having him because he was the impersonation of your sin, or because he destroyed your life as you became a teen mom. You weren’t able to give him what he needed, and it was the best decision to have a family giving him what you couldn’t.

“What’s his name?” you ask.

Right now, you don’t know if you ever want to meet your son. It already brings you so much joy to know he found his biological father. But you’re also wondering what his name is. He has always been ‘Sunny’ to you.

“Taemoo,” he answers.

That’s a pretty name. His parents found the perfect name for that little boy.

“It’s beautiful,” you say.

“Not as pretty as Sunny,” he jokingly says.

Your fingers wrap around his right hand. This is a vulnerable moment for both of you. It brings you back to a past where you were confronted with a harsh reality. Nothing was easy back then. You were ripped between your hearts and minds. The heart wanted to keep Sunny, but the mind was being realistic.

The tears shed from the day you had to give him up still haunt you to this day. The heartbreak painted all over Jungkook’s face never leaves your mind. That day was the hardest day of your entire life; it ripped your heart open.

“Do you think there was a possibility we could have kept him?” you ask with a shaky voice.

His eyes look up at you.

“Maybe,” he frankly answers. “If we weren’t that young and stupid, we could have been the parents he needed.”

“I definitely was stupid,” you shake your head.

“You weren’t,” he says without any hesitation. “You made a mistake, but that doesn’t make you stupid.”

“Say that to Minho,” you retort.

Jungkook giggles.

“I would never approach him, even now,” that makes you smile. “My face still hurts from his punch.”

After the pregnancy announcement to your ex-boyfriend, it was pure chaos. Minho went completely out of control due to his heartbreak. Obviously, he insisted on knowing who the father was, but you never flinched. Nonetheless, he instantly understood that it was Jungkook. He had noticed how he was constantly teasing you.   

So, the first thing he did was punch Jungkook in the face. The basketball player didn’t even fight back as he believed he deserved it. After all, he slept with a taken woman with absolutely no regrets.

Minho got even angrier because he wanted the player to respond. He was devastated by what happened, and you could only understand him. The day after, he went to another high school, and you never heard from him anymore.

“To be honest, yn,” he starts saying. “Back then, there wasn’t a possibility to keep him. My soul wanted to keep him, but it was for selfish reasons. I wanted to be a father but couldn’t be one back then. There isn’t a day where I don’t feel grateful for the tough decision you took and stand for. It would have been a complete disaster.”

His hand squeezes yours, and just right there, with his words and touch, you just burst into tears. Those tears just came by total surprise, but deep down, those are the tears you’ve been holding back for sixteen years. Hearing about your son and remembering the harsh moments you faced when he was inside you caused reality to hit you right in the face.

Jungkook instantly pushes the table aside to hold you in his embrace. You place your face on the crook of his neck while your arms wrap around him. It feels like you’re brought back to seventeen years ago when you announced your pregnancy.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper.

“Don’t be sorry,” he responds. “You’re going through a lot now.”

There are some words Jungkook is dying to tell you, but it’s definitely not the appropriate moment. This is already shaking you up, so no need to add an extra layer.

Taemoo would like to meet you; it’s been actually one of his dreams. Jungkook has already told him a million things about you, and your son has been beyond happy to hear all those things about you. He also got to see a picture of you when you were sixteen.

So Jungkook definitely wants to tell you that Taemoo would like to meet you, but he doesn’t know if this is the right time, especially since he doesn’t know how you’ll react.

“Sometimes I regret so much that I gave him up,” you honestly say. “Sometimes it’s just unbearable to remember the day I handed him over to the adoption center.”

His strong hands caress your back in an attempt to comfort you.

“It’s normal,” he whispers. “I do too,” he admits. “There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t think about his birth and when we said our last goodbyes to him.”

You hold him tightly, his strong arms comforting you in an unbelievable way. You don’t want to let go of him. All you want is to cry in his arms until there aren’t any tears left.

“We did well, yn,” he tells you. “Sunny has been having a wonderful life. A life that we could have never given him,” he tries to reassure you. “His parents love him so much, allowed him to follow his dreams, and gave him everything he ever needed.”

As he got to meet Taemoo and his adoptive parents, he can reassure you now.

“They are adorable people,” he adds. “And they’ve been taking good care of our Sunny.”

Jungkook spent most of his life wondering if good people adopted his son, and he would have hated himself if it wasn’t the case. But when he got to meet Taemoo’s parents, he saw how great they were. And above anything, he saw how great they raised him. Taemoo is a wonderful kid with a wonderful soul.

Hearing those words definitely reassures you. It comforts you that Sunny has been doing well and landed in a loving family. At the end of the day, that’s all you ever wanted for your baby.

“Thanks,” you whisper.

The firefighter smiles while holding you a bit tighter. For a little while, you stay like this without saying a word. Reuniting with Jungkook is the best thing that happens in the midst of all the chaos your life has become. It also allows you to think about something else other than the excruciating pain you constantly feel.  

A nurse enters your room while you’re reading one of the many books you’ve had left to read for the past years.

“There is a young man who says he’s your son. Should I let him in?”

You frown in confusion, momentarily wondering if your son has been mistaken for someone else. Nevertheless, you nod.

“Yes, please,” you say, placing your book aside and grabbing your cane to keep it close, just in case.

A soft knock sounds at the door before it opens, revealing a tall, nervous teenager. Your heart stops as you take in his face. It isn’t Jeong—but your oldest son.

As Jungkook described him a week ago, Taemoo definitely looks like the two of you. Nevertheless, his resemblance with his biological father is surprising. There is absolutely no doubt that he is Jungkook’s son. You understand now his mother’s reaction when she saw the firefighter.

“Hello,” he says, his voice tentative, holding a bouquet of bright sunflowers.

His hands tremble slightly as he steps inside. As you look a bit more at him, you can’t help but notice that he’s dressed thoughtfully, a gesture that tugs at your heart.  

This moment feels absolutely unreal. Merely days ago you found out about his name, and today he’s standing in front of you.

“I am Taemoo,” he continues.

As you look at this not-so-little man, you wonder what you could say to him, but you have no clue.

“Hello Taemoo,” you manage, your voice soft and unsteady. “Come in,” you add.

Taemoo—or Sunny as you’ve been affectingly calling him for the past sixteen years—comes closer with some hesitation. He’s clutching the flowers like a shield. Despite the nerves, there’s a quiet strength about him.

“I don’t have much to offer, but I have water, cookies, biscuits, and hot chocolate. Would you want something?” you propose.

“No, thanks,” he gives you a little smile.

“Please take a seat,” you offer while showing the chair next to yours.

For a little moment, he hesitates before sitting next to you. Your heart is hammering in your chest, ready to burst any second. The little man you gave birth to sixteen years ago is now standing before you. The same boy you gave up for adoption merely three days after his birth.

“Sorry, I didn’t properly introduce myself,” he mumbles.

As much as you want to tell him that he doesn’t need to, you need to hear him say it out loud.

“I am Taemoo, your son,” he says.

“Hello, Taemoo,” you gently say. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again.”

Tears start running down your face as you look at him. Sixteen years ago, you were holding him in your arms while your heart was completely ripped out. You were looking down at him knowing you’d have to say goodbye.

“I… I brought you these,” he shows the bouquet in his hands.

Your chest tightens as you take the flowers. “Thank you,” you say, your voice thick with emotion. “They’re beautiful—sunflowers are my favorite.”

“I know,” he murmurs, glancing at the floor. “Mr. Jeon told me.”

Your heart melts; this boy definitely seems to have a big heart. More silent tears run down your face while you look down again at the flowers.

“I have to ask,” you say after a little while. “How did you find me?”

You try to clean your face to compose yourself.

“I was in the hospital for a checkup, and I noticed Mr. Jeon at the front desk asking about you,” he explains. “I also know your name because he gave it to me when we met,” he adds.

You nod slowly, absorbing his words. It kind of warms your heart that Jungkook talked about you to Taemoo, but it aches your heart that this is how he got to meet you. You would have largely preferred you had organized this reunion.

“I’m glad you came.”

Your firstborn shifts nervously in his chair. “I wasn’t sure if I should,” he admits. “I didn’t know if you ever wanted to see me.”

It breaks your heart to hear those words as you picture him worried to come. There’s no doubt that it’s brave of him to come here. He could have stumbled upon a mother who didn’t want to see him; he was for sure aware of it.

“Taemoo,” you start saying. “You have every right to be here,” your voice slightly trembles. “I’ve spent the last sixteen years wondering how it’d be to see you again.”

But you also wondered if it was a good idea to even look for him. You never wanted to shake his world up, especially after giving him up for adoption.

“I don’t want to bother you,” he says. “I just…” he’s quite hesitating to continue his sentence, and you nod, silently encouraging him to proceed with what he has in mind. “I just needed to see you.”

“You’re not bothering me at all,” you reassure him instantly.

For a moment, silence falls between you, heavy with unspoken emotions. You don’t add anything else as you let him take the lead. He’s the one who was brave enough to come so you want him to say everything his heart desires.

“I have questions,” he finally speaks. “About why. Why gave me up for adoption.”

You swallow hard, the lump in your throat growing.

“Jungkook never told you why?” you question.

“Yes, he did but he never spoke on your behalf. He only gave his reasons.”

This is the Jungkook that you know, and it is very fond of him.

“I couldn’t be a mother,” your voice trembles. “I desired nothing more than to be a mother for you, but I couldn’t give you what you needed. I wanted you to have a life I couldn’t give you at the time.”

It’s hard to tell him why you abandoned him. You’re not even sure he can understand your reasons.

“I was just a girl when I had you; I was your age. I was so scared, but I thought only about your future. You deserved to have a good life, to have parents who would give you everything you needed. In my mind, the best thing for you was to give you up for adoption.”

There’s also the part where you cheated on your boyfriend, but that’s something he doesn’t need to know.

His expression is unreadable, but you notice his hands unclenching. This might be a good sign.

“Did you regret it?” his voice is barely above a whisper.

“Every single day,” you confess. You’re unable to stop the tears now. “The day I handed you over was the hardest day of my life. I’ve spent the last sixteen years wondering what you’ve become, but I was too afraid to find you,” you feel extremely vulnerable in front of your son. “I thought you’d hate me.”

Taemoo looks away, staring at the floor while he processes your words. It isn’t easy for him to be here and to know the truth. Jungkook said the same time. He was too young to be a father; he was a total idiot back then, and he tried to give his son the best life he could.

“I don’t hate you,” he softly says, and relief washes over you. “I never hated you because I had a good life, but I’ve spent my whole life wondering if I would have had as well a good life with my biological parents.”

You’re convinced it wouldn’t have been the case.

“Thanks for answering my questions,” he gently says.

Another silence settles between you, but less tense this time.

“Mr. Jeon…” he hesitantly says. “He told me you like books,” he says, changing the subject.

At this stage, you’re wondering what Jungkook hasn’t said about you. First, there are the flowers; now, it’s the books.

“What are you reading?”

You’re grateful he swifts the topic of conversation. It was heavy to be talking to him about your painful past. Smiling, you reach for the book on the bed, and show it to Taemoo.  

“It’s one of the books I bought years ago but never read,” he takes the book to look at it.

“I like books too,” he admits while looking at the book. “Mostly history, and fantasy too.”

Your heart warms as he gives you a small glimpse into his life.

“I’d love to know what you’re reading,” you say. “Maybe you could recommend me something?” you’re hesitant.

“Sure,” he straightaway answers. “Maybe next time.”

“Next time,” you murmur while holding onto those words like a lifeline.

Taemoo gives you a small smile. Slowly, you reach for his hand, and for a brief moment, he freezes, then lets you hold it.

“Thanks, Taemoo,” your voice is filled with emotions.

He nods with still that small smile on his face. “If you don’t mind, we could exchange numbers?” he asks with hesitation.

“Yes, of course,” you smile at him, giving his hand a small squeeze.

Your phone is on the other side of the bed, so you slowly try to get up with your glamorous cane. Taemoo stands up without any second thoughts to help you out. He’s already as tall as Jungkook; you don’t doubt he’ll be taller than him. You walk very slowly, and your son doesn’t leave your side in case you need him.

Once you’ve reached your phone, you unlock it to give it to him. “You can type your number and save it,” you say.

Taemoo freezes when he notices your background. There are three kids, and he realizes how much they resemble him. Even though he looks a lot like Jungkook, he also takes a lot after you.

“Are those my siblings?” he asks when he glances at you.

“Yes,” you answer. “I had three other kids years after you.”

“They look adorable,” he tells you before proceeding to save his number on your phone.

He calls himself, so he can also have your number. After that, he helps you to sit again on the chair before leaving the room.  The room suddenly feels empty as Taemoo leaves you alone with the flowers and the overwhelming realization that your son—the boy you thought you’d lost forever—is finally back in your life.

Today, Jungkook took a day off because he’s going out with you.

It’s not really a date —at least, that's what you’re both trying to convince yourselves. It’s been like a week that you’re out of the hospital, and he promised he’d take you on a car ride. Even though you walk better than you did some days ago, you’re still very slow. However, it doesn’t change the fact that you want to go out a bit.

For the past few days, you’ve both spent a lot of time together. It’s been great to be around you again. Things are very different now because you’re both grown-ups with kids, and there’s a lifetime that happened since you last saw each other. But he still feels the same around you. He still has that massive crush on you.

Honestly, he thought that with time, it’d fade away, but he was wrong. He understood it the second he pulled you out of that car. Being around you brings him peace. He feels like he doesn’t have to play a role; he simply can be himself.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“Somewhere,” he quickly eyes you before focusing on the road again.

Sixteen years ago, he knew he could never have you because of the circumstances. It was obvious to him that you loved him back, but it simply wasn’t possible. However, today, things are different. He still has a crush on you, and he will do everything in his power to not let you go.

“You’ll like it,” he smiles at you.

You look at him with suspicion.

“Let’s see,” you mumble.

Since you’ve been discharged from the hospital, Jungkook has been kind of scared to put you back in a car. So, for this day out, he asked you a million times if you’d be okay. You reassured him because it didn’t really frighten you.

Your baby daddy has been thoughtfully thinking about the place he could take you to. There are for sure hundreds of places, but he wants something special. However, above anything else, he wants to distract you.

He has noticed how you sometimes contort with pain. Definitely, you try to hide it but he can see it through your eyes. Most of the time, he feels sorry to see you in that state. It doesn’t look great at all. Nonetheless, he’s been trying to help.

Taemoo has also passed by once or twice at your parents’ place. Jungkook has never been present because he wants you two to get to know each other without him being in the middle. He definitely wishes the three of you to be reunited, but let’s take this step by step. It’s difficult for everyone.

“How has it been going to come back home?” he asks.

“Not easy…” you admit. “The kids struggle to not be staying at my place, even myself.”

Unfortunately, you can’t stay alone since anything can happen and you need help. So you’re staying at your parent’s place. You’re sleeping in your old bedroom that has since been transformed into a kid’s room for your babies. Your old bed is still there, but it doesn’t feel like your actual bed.

“They cry when they have to leave with their father. They really want to stay at my parents’ place with me, but it’s already very crowded.”

Your sister still lives with your parents, she’s only 22; she’s still very young. Well, she refuses to let you call her young because, at 22, you were getting married to Minkyu.

“They understand the situation, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s hard for them.”

Jungkook nods as he can only imagine how this situation feels for everybody. Hopefully, things will slowly get better, and you’ll be able to recover quickly.

“I don’t like to complain, but it’s already physically hard, so seeing them like that makes it harder,” you admit.

It leaves you wondering if it will be like that until the end of your recovery.

“Then, it’s a good thing I take you out for a little bit today,” he smiles, trying to change the conversation.

“It is,” you smile at him.

It’s warming your heart that he has been very present for almost a month. There hasn’t been a day where he didn’t visit you, even if it was for five minutes. You feel lucky to have him during this tough time; he’s been quite a comforting and reassuring presence.

After maybe half an hour, you reach a parking lot from a park located on a high hill. It’s a park you and Jungkook terribly loved. You’d come here towards the end of the pregnancy when you couldn’t sleep.

“So, what do you think?”

“I like this place,” a bright smile grows on your face.

“I know,” he says.

This is definitely very thoughtful of him.

Jungkook leaves the car to help you get out of it. As you think you are going to walk for a bit, the man just holds you in his arms, one of his arms under your back, and the other under your legs. You instantly wrap your hands around his neck. Your faces are pretty close, and all thoughts are shut down by the irresistible desire to kiss him.

“Since there’s a lot to walk before reaching our spot, it’s better if I bring you there,” he confesses.

“Always trying to play the superhero,” you mumble.

“Eeh, I’m not,” he straight away answers. “I’m just trying to make your life easier.”

You roll your eyes while giggling.

“I can let you walk if you prefer but don’t blame it on me afterward,” he says while slowly pretending to put you down.

“Okay, okay,” you retreat in defeat. “Take me there.”

A smile grows on his face before he starts walking in the direction of your spot. It’s a bench where you have the perfect view of the city. At night, it’s wonderful as the buildings are lightening up. You spent many nights here sixteen years ago with your head on his shoulder, and your hand on your belly. Sunny would kick quite a lot during those moments, and Jungkook’s hand would rest on your bump to feel his son.

You were young and stupid, but definitely in love at that moment. A month before your son’s birth, you shared a passionate kiss on that bench. It was a highly desired one. You shared other kisses afterward but they never felt like that first one.

Surprisingly, when you reach the famous bench, nobody is sitting there. Usually, back in the day, that bench was always occupied during the day, only being empty at night.

“It almost feels like you booked the bench,” you chuckle.

“I could of,” he answers. “But I don’t have the means.”

Jungkook sits you down on the bench before taking a seat next to you. Gently, he grabs your legs to place them on top of his. He’s aware of how painful it can be for you to have your knees bent. At least like that, they are almost flat.

“Thanks for bringing me here,” your eyes look at the handsome firefighter instead of the pretty view.

The man only offers you a gentle smile, and the two of you now look at the city stretching before your eyes. It is very different than it was sixteen years ago. The city has grown bigger, some buildings were replaced by others or some even were destroyed. Everything is different while still being the same. Like how it feels to be around Jungkook.  

“Can I ask you a question?” Jungkook breaks the silence between you.

Your eyes look back at him, and his expression is unreadable.

“Sure,” you nod.

“Would you have given us a shot if you hadn’t gotten pregnant?” he asks with some sort of hesitation.

The questions catches you by surprise as it is the last thing you thought he’d ever ask.

“To be honest, I don’t know,” you say. “I was feeling so guilty about what I did to Minho, I felt stupid, and I was avoiding you.”

Well, he felt that.

“I avoided you because I really adored what happened with you,” you say. “You were really good in bed,” he smiles at your words. “But I looked at you differently because I got pregnant.”

Sixteen years ago, you never had a conversation about your feelings for him. But it definitely looks like you’re having it now.

“You were by my side every second. You’d cook whatever I was craving, you’d be at every appointment, you’d hold me when I cried, you’d do anything when I was in pain, and you’d bring me here when I couldn’t sleep.”

Your heart is beating fast as you’re about to pronounce the next words.

“I fell in love with that Jungkook,” the firefighter’s heart is also hammering in his chest. “Not with the jerk who’d flirt with me.”

His cheeks are getting red with shyness. After all these years, and even though he knew his feelings were reciprocated, he feels like a teenager falling in love for the first time.

“We were two when we conceived Sunny, so I naturally had to get my shit together and be by your side and help you as much as I could,” he says. “I was for sure a jerk back then, but I’d always assume the consequences of my actions.”

His heart is hammering faster as he takes his courage to speak out loud about how he has been feeling about you. 

“I also had a crush on you so I also saw that as a way to spend more time with you,” now you’re the one blushing.

Anyone observing this scene from outside would instantly get how smitten you are. The person would even bet that you’re together.

“Do you still have a crush on me?” you question.

You’re way too curious, but you definitely want to know because damn, you’d kiss that man right now.

Jungkook gets closer to your face, his hands moving to your thighs to caress them. Not in a sensual way.

“What would happen if I say yes?” he whispers when his face is extremely close to yours.

“You’ll have to find out,” you teasingly say.

His eyes move from your eyes to your lips as he desires nothing but the same as you. To kiss you.    

“Yes,” he says without any hesitation. “I still have a crush on you.”

You bite your lower lip before breaking the small space between you to fervently kiss him. Having his lips finally against yours feels like a relief, almost as if you’ve been waiting sixteen years to feel them again.

The kiss is shy at first as if you’re both scared but it slowly turns into a desperate and fervent one. One of his hands goes to the back of your neck while the other remains on your thigh. Your hands cup his face while you intensely kiss each other. 

This feels like heaven for you two. You open your mouth, giving him free access to it. His tongue doesn’t hesitate one second to find yours. Gently, your tongues meet and it feels wonderful. Inside of your lower belly, thousands of butterflies are freed. Never have you thought that this would happen again although you’ve thought about it since reuniting with him.

When you’re both out of breath, you break the kiss and rest your forehead against his. For a moment, you simply look at each other while you catch your breath. Jungkook’s fingers softly caress your face, and you close your eyes to savor this moment. 

“I’ve dreamed of this since I found you again,” he admits.

Jungkook presses once more his mouth against yours. A soft moan leaves his mouth when your lips meet. He wants to keep doing this forever. He teasingly bites your lower lip which causes a moan to escape your mouth. A devious smirk appears on his face but he gets back to kissing you fervently.

Before the kiss takes a very dirty turn, you break it. “It isn’t the appropriate place for that,” you whisper.

He giggles as he realizes he was ready to take it to the next level in a public place. The firefighter presses a gentle kiss on your lips before you resume to admire the view.

After a couple of hours, he takes you back to your parents’ house. Your mind is filled with euphoria from the kisses you shared earlier, and you can’t help but smile every time you think about it. Kissing Jungkook still feels the same. It still tastes like heaven.  

When you’re home, you notice nobody’s here which is a bit weird, especially since you warned your parents you’ll take a shower today. Maybe they went for a walk since you were with Jungkook.

“Would you mind staying a bit?” you ask. “I need to take a shower, and I wouldn’t feel comfortable alone.”

“Yeah, no problem,” he says.

Jungkook assists you until you reach the bathroom and grabs underwear, a bra, pants, and a shirt from your bedroom.

“You’re sure you’ll be able to be by yourself?” he asks with concern.

“I have a stool and everything I need has been placed at the stool level,” you explain. “So don’t worry.”

Jungkook can’t help but feel worried. Even if it’d be weird to be in the bathroom with you, he’d feel reassured.

“If I need anything, I’ll call you,” you add.

There’s not much he can do, except to leave you alone.

“Okay,” he presses a gentle kiss on your lips before leaving.

You sit on the stool to get undressed. To remove your shirt and bra, it’s quite easy, but to take off your pants and panties, it’s a whole other story. Your mother has been helping you a lot with the shower part, and you’ve been feeling like a five-year-old who can’t do much by herself.

The last two showers, you’ve been able to do everything by yourself, and you’ve been very proud of yourself. However, right now, you’re struggling a lot. It’s frustrating you beyond comprehension, but you remind yourself that you need to calm down otherwise, it’ll only be worse.

After a little while, you simply resign and call for Jungkook. He arrives in a rush, and his heart breaks a little when he sees your defeated face.

“Struggling?” he asks when he notices your pants stuck at your knees level.

“I can’t push them further than that,” you pout.

He walks in your direction, kneeling before you. “Let me help you.”

His hands carefully push your pants down and throw them onto the floor. Then, before even touching your panties, his eyes look up at you, asking for your consent. Even though you called him for help, he wouldn’t want to cross any line. Consent is important, after all.

You simply nod, you don’t have much of a choice here. His fingers brush against the skin of your hips, causing goosebumps all over your body. Last time he touched you there was the day you conceived Taemoo, sixteen years ago. Your eyes are frozen on him.

Jungkook grabs the hem of your panties to push them down your legs, his fingers brushing against your hot skin. You’re now fully naked in front of him, and it feels incredibly weird although he already saw you like this. But at the same time, it feels reassuring to have him here with you.

“Do you want me to help you wash? Or would you be fine now?” he asks while standing up.

“Help me please,” you almost beg. “Not sure I’ll be able to wash if I can’t even remove my clothes,” you laugh a bit.

You try not to cry at this whole situation. It’s better to laugh at it than cry.

“Okay,” he turns the water on. “You’re going to wash your hair?”

“No, no,” you answer. “Just my body.”

The man in front of you nods and hands you the showerhead.

“Let me know when it is too hot,” he tells you.

You’re holding the showerhead with one hand while the other is below to check the water temperature. In the meantime, Jungkook removes his socks in order for him to get inside the shower.

Once done, his eyes look at you with admiration. For almost a month, you’ve been going through hell with everything that has been going on. You’ve been handling things like a champion even though it’s sometimes very clear you’re suffering terribly. He has nothing but admiration for you.

His heart swells with happiness because, in the midst of all that, you chose to let him be by your side. He even got to kiss you.

“It’s good now,” you tell him with a smile.  

Jungkook grabs the showerhead to run it over your body. He carefully executes the task while being extremely focused on not forgetting any body parts of yours.

“With my mum, we always do the intimate parts at the end,” you inform him.

“No problem,” he answers.

Once your body has been fully covered in water, he seizes the shower gel.

“Do you want to do it?” he asks with the gel in his hands.

Usually, with your mum, you do it, but with Jungkook, you’ll gladly let him do it. You really want to feel his fingers touch your body. 

“Could you please do it?” he nods.

Jungkook understands that you simply want to feel his touch, and he won’t complain as he desires nothing but to touch your soft skin.

There is nothing sexual about this moment. The two of you would even say that it’s a very intimate moment, even more intimate than sex.

The man covers your entire body with soap before holding back the showerhead to clean you. Once done, you stand up so you can clean your last body parts, which are your vagina and ass. This time around, you want to do it yourself as you feel like it could take a naughty turn if he touches you down there.

Jungkook leaves the shower. “Where are the towels?”

“In the storage cabinet below the sink,” you inform him.

Seconds later, when you cut the water, he wraps you in the towel before you sit back again on the stool.

“Thanks for your help,” you say.

As you slowly wake up, you feel a warm presence behind you which is something not normal. Since you’ve been back from the hospital, you’ve been sleeping alone in your old bed.

Then, you start remembering what happened yesterday. After the shower, your parents arrived and were very delighted to see Jungkook. A bit later, your sister came from work. Your parents naturally invited him to stay for dinner.

Once dinner was over, you practically begged him to stay the night. You then went to your room, and watched “Enola Holmes 2”, but you instantly fell asleep with your body pressed against his, your head against his chest.  His heartbeat was the little melody that rocked you to sleep.

Your eyes adjust to the light in which the room is immersed. You turn around to see Jungkook sleeping like a baby, and he looks absolutely adorable.

In this quite big bed, it seems like he’s so far away from you as he isn’t close to you. There’s a distance between the two of you that makes you smile; you know he purposely put that distance. He respects you way too much, and he wouldn’t do anything to make you feel uncomfortable. 

You turn again before closing your eyes to remember what happened yesterday. It was an intense day, but intense in a good way. As you remember the kisses you shared, you run your fingers over your lips. He still kisses like a god.  

Yesterday, you felt so much alive. You didn’t feel that way for already a couple of years. Hopefully, this is a feeling that’ll stay longer. You don’t want it to fade away so soon.   

Suddenly, the bed moves behind you. A big hand carefully wraps around your waist while a mouth presses a gentle kiss on your shoulder, and a body snuggles up against yours. Instantly, your eyes close to savor this precise moment. 

Both of you snuggle together for a little while, just enjoying the closeness of your bodies together. Waking up with someone and with his arms wrapped around you is something you haven’t experienced in a while. The last time it happened was when you were still married to Minkyu.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he whispers with his hoarse morning voice before pressing a sweet kiss on your neck. 

Goosebumps rise all over your skin because this is a beautiful way to wake up. Damn, you wouldn’t mind waking up every day to this.

Jungkook feels your shivers beneath his hand, a smirk growing on his face. It feels like a victory to have already made you feel this good so early in the morning.  

“Morning, Jungkook,” you whisper. 

Naturally, your back arches, pushing your ass back to meet his crotch which makes him groan against your skin. Your cheeks instantly turn red and you push your ass away from his intimate parts.

“Sorry,” you say.

Jungkook also feels a bit embarrassed that his little friend down there is already all turned on. But what can he say, he spent the night with the girl of his dreams.

“I’m the one who’s sorry,” he whispers. “I’m already all turned on.”

Since you’re still flustered, you don’t dare to turn to look at him. He’s also grateful for that; he would hide his face in the pillow if you ever look at him.

“It’s not a bad thing,” you say. “I mean, it’s normal.”

“I know, but it’s awkward for both of us,” he answers.

For a moment, you don’t say anything as you try to find your words.

“I’m actually flattered,” you break the silence. “Wasn’t expecting to turn someone on this early in the morning.”

Jungkook gets closer to you once more, his hard member pressing against your ass through his underwear. That feeling alone causes your walls to clench around emptiness. You also bite your lower lip to repress any moan that might escape your mouth. You’re at your parents’ house, anyone could hear you.

His arms wrap around your waist once more before he presses another kiss on your neck. A very soft moan manages to escape, causing Jungkook to feel some kind of pride. His fingers slip beneath your shirt to caress every part of your body with his cold fingers.

Your back arches at the sensation while one of your hands goes to his head, your fingers running through his hair. Your other hand goes to your mouth to muffle the sounds of your moans. You don’t know exactly what time it is, so you’re not sure if there’s somebody at the house. To be safe, it’s better not to moan like a mess.

Then, his fingers move down on your body, pushing your pajamas’ pants and underwear together. The cold air that brushes against your core makes you grow wetter. Thank god you have your hand in your mouth because there’s no doubt this would have made you moan.

His fingers slowly get closer and closer to your bundle of nerves. By the time his fingers reach your clit, you’re already completely soaked. 

“Someone else is already all turned on,” he whispers in your ear before licking and nibbling it. “Tell me what you want, sunshine.” 

The simple fact that he asks what you want is a big turn-on. Men tend to forget that during an intimate moment, it isn’t all about themselves and their pleasure. It’s about two people trying to give and have pleasure.

Your back arches a bit more, rubbing your ass more against his semi-hard cock. A deep growl echoes against your ear. Your mind is going completely crazy. There’s one thing you desperately crave right now: him inside you.

“You,” is actually the first word that crosses your mind. “You inside me with your hand on my throat,” you clarify. 

Well, the only time you had sex with Jungkook, it was pretty wild. You both discovered how much you adored having his fingers tightly around your neck. It gave a totally other dimension to the sex. It was even more intense, and you loved it.

“You’re sure?” he still asks to be sure.

He doesn’t want to cause any more pain. 

“Absolutely,” you reassure him.

Your eyes close when his free hand finds its way to your neck, his wonderful and delicate tattooed fingers wrapping around your throat. This feels wonderful, and it gets you wetter.

As you feel a moan ready to leave your mouth, you sink your teeth into your lower lip. There’s no way you’re going to muffle all your moans. This is already too wild for you, and you know it’s going to get even wilder.

“I’d give anything to see the way you look with my hand around that pretty neck of yours, sunshine” he whispers in the shell of your ear, his deep voice emphasizing the word ‘sunshine’. 

With your eyes closed, you can perfectly picture the way his hand fits on you. Jungkook can imagine it too, causing chills to run through his skin. 

While his hand caresses your neck, the other one does wonders to your clit. The torture is exquisite, nothing feels as good as having his hands on you. His hand works harder on your core to make you wetter. The man is already desperate to give you what you want. Him inside you. 

Once he feels you’re wet enough, his fingers leave your pussy alone to pull your leg up a bit, this way will be easier for him to push his cock inside you. Quite rapidly, he takes off his underwear.

“At any time, let me know if I hurt you, okay?” he whispers with evident concern.

“Don’t worry, Kook,” you say.  

His lips pepper the back of your neck with kisses. Your hand goes behind to stroke his cock a bit before rubbing it for a little while against your soaked core. 

“Shit, yn,” he groans against your skin. 

You bite your lower lip because, damn, it’s fucking hot to wake up to this.

As you feel him growing harder in your hand, you decide to push his length into your heated core. Your pussy sucks him all in, his head stretching you open as he goes further inside you.

“You always feel amazing,” he hisses once he bottoms up.

Small and barely audible moans and whimpers leave the two of you as you both enjoy feeling your bodies connected. Jungkook doesn’t move for a few seconds, giving your body time to adjust to him.

It’s been a while since you last had sex together, and Jungkook’s cock tends to be quite big. That was for sure something you’d never forget. How could you? If you compare to all the dicks you experience, he’d be the biggest.

But it isn’t the kind of big that makes it painful. It’s actually the opposite. You’d say that his dick is simply perfect.

“Move, Kook,” you give him a small slap on his ass to urge him. 

You need him, in ways you can’t even express. 

The man doesn’t need to be told twice before he starts thrusting into you very slowly and deeply with his hand still around your throat. The slick sound of your pussy soaking his cock as well as the creaky bed quickly fills the room. 

Jungkook takes all his time, he isn’t rushing anything because damn, he wants you both to enjoy this moment. His lips stay on your shoulder, pressing soft kisses to avoid moaning. His other hand holds your leg up while he rolls his hips in a way that you absolutely adore. 

The hand on your neck and his dick deep inside you are the perfect combos to make you come in a snap. None of you speak, only enjoying this torrid moment.

The man behind you feels that he’s slowly losing you, that you’re losing yourself further in the pleasure that only he can give you. So, he lightly tightens his hand around your throat to help you reach your orgasm faster. 

“Fuck,” you swear as his fingers wrap tighter around your neck. 

This is more than bliss for you, you could just come right now because of his hand but you don’t want to let go of your orgasm. You want to let it grow immensely until it becomes too overwhelming for you. You want this orgasm to be like an explosion of fireworks inside you. 

“You take me so well,” he whispers before bringing your face closer to his to press his lips against yours. Your walls clench around him causing his cock to twitch inside you. A guttural groan leaves his pretty lips, a groan that you happily swallow.  

Wanting to bring him closer to the edge, you start moving your hips in circles while he keeps thrusting into you at a very slow and torturous pace. His lips leave yours, his eyes close shut, and barely audible moans keep flooding out of his mouth.    

“Keep doing that, yn,” he pants.   

His cock goes deeper inside you, filling you up fully and hitting all the right spots which causes the pleasure to grow stronger within you. Your moans are harder to suppress, it feels good to be railed by Jungkook this early in the morning. Morning sex is honestly one of the best types of sex.

He groans deeply against your ear, your orgasm building stronger and stronger. You know that in a matter of seconds, you’ll be coming undone, and Jungkook senses it too. Your hips never stop moving in tandem with his but as you get closer to your high, your walls squeeze him harder. 

As he gets lost in the euphoria of the moment, he starts thrusting more harshly. Both of you are chasing your own orgasm while bringing the other closer to the edge. It doesn’t take you too much time to be fiercely hit by that overwhelming wave of pleasure, making you come undone around his massive cock. 

“Jungkook, fuck!” you cry with ecstasy, your hips stopping completely to move but the man behind you never stops moving. 

“Can I come inside?” you simply nod, barely able to make a proper sentence in the middle of this euphoric state.   

Both his hands move to your hips, gripping them tightly as he releases his thick load inside you. A lewd moan escapes your mouth when he pumps his hot cum inside you, pushing it as deep as possible inside you. 

For a little while, both of you stay in this position, his hands still holding you tight against him while his cock remains inside you. None of you wants to break this moment but you have to since you’ll need to leave the bed.  

Very slowly, you remove yourself from his cock to stand up from the bed. “Can I ask you to help me put on my underwear and pants?” you ask.

Without hesitation, Jungkook stands up while grabbing your clothes. As yesterday, he kneels before you to dress you. A smile spreads across your face as you look down at him. This man is, without any doubt, the kind of man you want to have in your life. He’s been nothing but a sweetheart with you.

“Thanks a lot, Jk,” you say once fully dressed.

The man carefully spreads your legs to situate himself between them.

“No problem, sunshine,” he presses a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Also, I’d like to mention that I take the pill,” you mention with a silly smile on your face. “So we won’t have any other surprise kid.”

Jungkook smiles and kisses you once more.

“I’m glad to know that,” he whispers against your lips.

Still fully naked, he stands up to assist you to do the same. Once you’re straightened up, you take the glamorous cane. At the same time, Jungkook puts his clothes back on because there’s no way he’s going to leave this bedroom naked. It’d be way too embarrassing.

This impressive man helps you go to the bathroom and, then, to the kitchen. At first, it seems like there’s only the two of you since you don’t hear any noise. However, to your surprise, when you reach the kitchen, you find your sister sitting at the table and eating breakfast.

“Good morning,” you say with evident joy.

“Only good morning to you,” she snaps back.

You frown with confusion. Your sister looks you dead in the eyes, totally ignoring Jungkook’s presence in the same room.

“I really didn’t need to know how you two conceived your first kid,” she explains.

Both you and Jungkook open your eyes wide; you weren’t expecting that at all. But there were chances that someone would have heard you. It’s definitely weird your sister was the one. You wouldn’t want to hear her having sex with someone.

“Hopefully, this time around, there won’t be any other kid,” Jungkook manages to say.  

Your sister laughs a bit. “I like this one,” she takes a sip of coffee. “He seems better than the other ones, and he’s also a lot hotter than them.”

Jungkook starts laughing as he helps you to take a seat.

“She’s funny,” he whispers to your ear.

“Don’t be silly,” you tell your sister. “And please, go find a guy so you don’t drool over mine.”

Although you haven’t defined your relationship for now, he’s flattered you consider him as ‘your guy’.

“How can I compete with a firefighter?” she teases. “Anyone will feel boring next to Jungkook,” she adds.

“If you want, I can introduce you to my colleagues,” he suggests.

“Don’t encourage her in her nonsense,” you tell him.

“Yes, please,” she says with enthusiasm.

You roll your eyes. She’s unbelievable and definitely very crazy, but that’s maybe why you love her so damn much.  

After that, together with Jungkook, you prepare breakfast while speaking with your sister. She leaves a couple of minutes later because she needs to meet with her best friend downtown. And right after her, Jungkook leaves you alone in your parents’ house which breaks your heart. However, you don’t stay very long by yourself as your kids come to visit you with their father.

Three weeks later

You and Jungkook are sitting at a table in a fancy restaurant. Your heart is beating fast with nervousness.

“Everything is going to be fine,” he tries to reassure you while resting his hand on top of yours.

“Don’t know,” you mumble.

Today, you’ve organized a dinner with Jungkook and Taemoo; your first time as a family. It’s weird to even think about it, but Taemoo really wanted to spend some time with you, together. Since he proposed this, you’ve been feeling very nervous. You’re a bit scared of how things will go when you’re finally the three of you together.

“There’s no reason for this to not go well,” he answers.

Before you can even answer, Taemoo joins you with a bright smile on his face. Like the first time you met him, he’s very well dressed.

“Hello,” he says. “I brought you these,” he hands you a tiny bouquet composed of three sunflowers. “It’s one sunflower for each of us.”

Your heart has completely melted now. This kid is so damn thoughtful, just like his biological father. His parents definitely raised him well, and it only reassures you that the decision you made sixteen years ago was the right one.

“Hello, Taemoo,” you say while standing up to hold your son in your arms. “Thanks a lot.”

Your firstborn wraps his arms around yours. This is a heartfelt moment; being able to hug him fills your heart with so much love. It feels like holding Jiwoo even though you didn’t raise Taemoo. Unfortunately, you can’t hold him for a long moment due to your wonderful knees. So he then greets Jungkook before taking a seat in the empty chair.

“Thanks for accepting this,” those are his first words.

Although he seems very happy and relaxed, you notice he’s a bit stressed.

“After seeing you separately, I really wanted to spend a bit of time with the two of you,” he starts saying. “Not sure how this will evolve in the future, but I’d like to sometimes organize this kind of diner.”

For the past few weeks, your life has drastically changed, and honestly, sometimes, you feel like it’s too much. However, having Jungkook and Sunny back in your life is what you consider to be a blessing. In all this chaos, you found two deeply important people that you left sixteen years ago.

The sixteen-year-old version of you was devasted to part ways from them two, thinking that you’ll never see them again. If she could see this today, the heartbreak would have been less painful. But that version of you is beyond happy today to see the three of you sitting at the same table.

This car accident destroyed your knees and stomach, but it has brought you Jungkook and Sunny. All of this would not be happening without this accident.

You also can’t wait to see your three other little munchkins with the man you love and their older sibling. Undoubtedly, that day will be the most wonderful day of your life. Now, you feel like you can finally truly be happy. You now have all the people you need to be happy.    

[gimmethatagustd]

what the fire gave us | jjk

You were born with a Gift that the world wanted to turn into a weapon. All Jungkook wanted to do was show you that you could find love, even in the dark.

Relationship: Shadow Elemental Jungkook x Water Elemental Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence (someone you love is gonna die I'm so sorry)

Tags: Dystopia, Fantasy, Friends to Lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Character Death, Murder, Human Experimentation, War, Jungkook is a precious baby boy but he’ll also kill you, Elemental Magic, Shadow Elemental Jungkook, Fire Elemental Yoongi, Loss of Virginity, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Outdoor Sex

Word Count: 25,983

A/N: Fun fact, Taehyung’s character is based off of Jeff Goldblum. Part of a spring offering collab.

Soundtrack: cyberpunk - ateez

moodboard credit: @btscontentenjoyer

3 MONTHS

Lookout duty is hard on you. When it’s your turn to camp out on the roof and watch for potential threats, you complain that staying awake all night is hard. Most of the other runaways are night owls, but you aren’t. You need your beauty sleep, you joke. You can’t get comfortable on the roof, even if there’s a flat landing with pillows and blankets to keep you warm. 

These are a few of your excuses, but you can’t bring yourself to tell the others the truth: you are scared. 

It’s close to midnight when you hear the creak of the trapdoor opening. The likelihood of it being anyone other than the group of Gifted runaways you live with is low, but you can’t trust that the impossible wouldn’t happen. You’ve seen the impossible happen far too often.  

Hopping down from the old milk crate you’d been sitting on, you crouch behind a giant bean bag with your bow and arrow ready. The harness you wear strapped around your torso holds your spare arrows. It digs hard enough into your shoulder that you form blisters if you don’t wear a thick enough shirt. 

The fluffy pink hair poking out of the trapdoor makes you sigh in relief. 

“Hey, kid,” the pink-haired man whispers. 

He gently closes the trapdoor and walks with a hunched back toward you, careful not to expose too much of his body beyond the roof’s railing. The abandoned warehouse you live in is on the city’s outskirts, with nothing for miles but empty concrete parking lots and overgrown plots of land. 

Still, you never know who might be out there. Although the Red Pins have only inflicted pain from within their research facilities, all the runaway Gifteds know that the government employs more than one type of evil to hunt them down. 

You try not to think about them, those scientists in long white coats that fall to their thighs and blood-red nametags pinned to their labels with names you often see painted on the walls of your nightmares. Lately, the frequency of the nightmares has lessened. It doesn’t feel like it, though, when you often wake in the middle of the night to your friends screaming in their sleep while they suffer through their own trauma. You wish the knowledge that the pain of being government lab rats is something you all share could be comforting. But, instead, it only makes you hurt more.  

“Yoongi,” you huff, returning to your perch on the milk crate. Now your hands are all sweaty. “You should be sleeping.” 

“Hi, Yoongi; nice to see you too! Thanks for coming to hang out with me!” Yoongi mocks your voice, clearly stating what he thinks you should have said. “Oh, no problem, Y/N. I just wanted to see how you were doing and hang out with my favorite kiddo.” 

You scrunch your nose at kiddo. 

“I’m not a kid.” 

Yoongi leans over to rub his knuckles into your head. “Nah, you definitely are.” 

Despite the lack of lighting outside, Yoongi practically glows. That’s always how it is with fire elementals. It’s like they absorb all the light and let it buzz inside them. Like fireflies, you’d once told Yoongi. He hadn’t found it cute to be compared to a bug. 

“If I’m a firefly, then you’re a fucking fish,” he’d teased. You’d promptly summoned water from a nearby puddle to throw in his face. 

For as long as you can remember, that’s how it has been between the two of you: fire and water. A push and pull. So different that you need each other to be whole. 

You watch Yoongi get comfortable in the bean bag, his skinny limbs spreading like a starfish and his eyes lifting to the sky. In quiet moments like this, you would give anything to hold him. And not out of fear like you had when the scary men came to take you away from your parents. And not out of anger like you had to when you stopped him from blowing up the research facility they’d held you in. 

No, you want to hold him and for it to be gentle, soft, and peaceful. 

Like now, when the world is silent except for the crickets calling to each other in the weeds and the rustle of wind in the trees. 

But he thinks you’re just a kid. 

You’re not that much younger than him. But, if you put in the effort to look at your relationship objectively, you’d see that Yoongi’s paternal nature comes out with you and the other runaway Gifteds. He cares for you as an older brother would. 

It’s not enough for you, though. It will never be enough.  

“Is everyone else asleep?” You rest your elbows on your knees and hold your chin in your hand. When you speak, you look out at the empty field. 

“Hobi sneezed and blasted a hole through the bathroom wall,” Yoongi says with a low chuckle. “So me and Joon found some supplies to patch it up the best we could. I think they’re all asleep now, though.” 

“How is it Hobi’s the one breaking shit and Namjoon’s fixing it?” You press your hand against your mouth to muffle the ugly snort bursting from you. There’s very little to find funny in this life, so you cherish how your chest burns with fond warmth. 

“The world’s all backwards.” Yoongi’s gummy smile lights up the night and tears into your heart. 

The two of you fall silent once again. Moving slowly, you reach out to hook your pinky finger with Yoongi’s, a small smile forming when you feel his pinky wrap tightly around yours. 

“Where are we gonna go, Yoong?” 

He watches you with eyes heavy with sleep, determined to stay up with you even though he doesn’t need to. Initially, you thought it was because he wanted to keep you company. Now, you often wonder if it’s because Yoongi is afraid to sleep, too. He never speaks about his experience at the Labs; the other runaways have learned the hard way not to ask. Singed eyebrows don’t look good on anyone. 

“I don’t know.” 

You already knew this would be the answer, but it scares you anyway. Yoongi always knows everything. 

Yoongi lets go of your hand to sit up in the bean bag. 

“Hey, kid,” he whispers. He gently presses his palm to your jaw, cupping your face. You hope he doesn’t hear your breath hitch in your throat. “As long as we’re together, you don’t gotta worry about anything, okay?” 

You stare at him for a long time, searching the bags under his eyes and the worry lines on his forehead. 

“You promise?” 

“I promise.” 

3 MONTHS, 1 WEEK

There’s a stream that cuts through the overgrown fields behind the warehouse. It’s man-made, flowing from a sewer tunnel beneath the cracked parking lot - and likely from somewhere else, perhaps connected to a lake beyond the woods at the property’s edge. The separation between industrialization and the natural world of the unknown hurts your heart. You’d never felt longing until you found yourself inside a cage of cinderblock walls and concrete floors. 

A rope of water whips across your face, drawing you from your thoughts of the woods. It’s muddy and makes your skin and clothes smell sour. 

Though the air is still crisp and bites at the tip of your nose, spring came early this year. It takes minimal effort for Namjoon to draw more water from the soiled stream as it’s not frozen over like it should be. With a flick of his wrist, another rope of water hits you, this time across your chest. 

“Aghh!” 

“Pay attention.” 

You lift your arm in enough time to block his next assault. The liquid rope freezes in the air before shattering into a thousand glimmering pieces, scattering jagged ice across the pale yellow grass. 

“I’m tired of this, Grandpa.” 

Namjoon rolls his eyes at the pop culture reference; you’re pleased he understood. Posed to speak, mouth already opening, he barely gets a sound out before another voice bellows across the field. 

“WELL, THAT’S TOO DAMN BAD!” 

Hoseok isn’t afraid to be loud. He smiles, all teeth and pink tongue, and throws his head back as he cackles. Everywhere he goes, he carries the smell of spring with him - cherry blossoms and morning dew that makes newly-grown pieces of grass stick wet against ankles. 

You close your eyes and let spring overpower the sour smell of sewer water Namjoon has thrown at you for the past hour. It lets you forget how your skin aches with welts and bruises. 

As Hoseok bounds toward you and Namjoon, a dark tornado spins beside him. When he gets closer, you can see Hoseok occasionally blowing a small gust of air toward the tornado. It appears to be made of smoke, a gradient of grays and blacks. 

“Look at this,” your friend announces with a mischievous grin. “Me and JK learned a new trick.” 

With a quick snap of Hoseok’s fingers, you and Namjoon watch in patient silence as the tornado begins to slow its speed. Almost gently, the smoke curls tighter and tighter until the darkness turns into a solid mass. 

Jungkook stumbles a few times as he attempts to get his footing. His limbs continue to propel his body into a small spin. 

Hoseok quickly reaches out to grab the younger man. Secure hands squeeze his shoulders, and then it’s only Jungkook’s head lolling about. 

“Cool, right?” Jungkook’s voice is gruff, but his lips curl into a weak smile. 

Namjoon lets out a long sigh. “You look like you’re going to be sick.” 

Although Namjoon is right, Jungkook does look like the effort of his little party trick took a toll on his body; you can’t help but match his smile. Especially when his eyes flick toward yours. You told his gaze for half a second before Jungkook quickly looks away. His cheeks flush pink, but you’re sure it’s from the exertion of all that spinning. 

“I think it’s really cool,” you praise the two while elbowing Namjoon in the ribs. With a grumble, your sparring partner returns to his previous stance a few feet away. 

“We should go again. Just for a little while longer.” 

Every muscle in your body feels stiff when you turn away from Hoseok and Jungkook. 

“I hurt all over, Joonie.” 

“Let her rest!” Hoseok adds to your whining. “All we ever do is practice fighting.” 

“Sparring.” 

Hoseok waves a dismissive hand at the younger man. “Whatever you want to call it. I find it to be fri-” 

You stifle a laugh by pressing the back of your hand to your mouth as Hoseok is tackled to the ground by Jungkook. The two men roll around, all arms and legs, kicking up dead grass and dirt. A lot of howling and teasing laughter rings through the open air. 

It isn’t until Jungkook is launched into the sky by a gust of wind you know comes from Hoseok, and lands roughly on his back, that the playful fight ceases. How Jungkook lands knocks all the air out of his chest, but he laughs once his lungs start working again. 

“Ridiculous, all of you.” Hoseok brushes grass from his clothes. It’s futile; they’re dirty and ragged anyway. Try as you and Namjoon might to use your Gifts to clean the clothes; water does little when there’s no soap. 

“I let you win,” Jungkook teases.

Still, he stands a bit further from Hoseok than he had previously. Not far enough for anyone to notice, aside from you. You notice although you don’t mean to. It’s hard not to when Jungkook keeps stealing glances, only to look away when you try to return his gaze. 

“You did not.” 

“Did, too.” His insistence makes you giggle. 

“And how did that work out for you? Hmm? How does your back feel? I know you landed on that rock.” 

“I-It, it doesn’t hurt.” Jungkook glances your way. His cheeks are still pink. “Would take more than that to hurt me.” 

“Jungkook is impossible to beat.” 

You startle at the gentle voice, spinning on your heels to see Yoongi approaching the group. He’s got a leather satchel strapped across his chest and resting at his hip. It bulges with what you assume are plants and fruits scavenged from the woods. 

“Boy Scouts” is what Yoongi offered when you asked how he knew so much about surviving in nature. It was peculiar; nothing about Yoongi seemed like the type. He’s tougher, more steel than wood or earth. A bulletproof shield, you think. Broad and strong. 

“Impossible?” 

Your question is meant to be a tease, but Yoongi’s face remains stoic. Such a severe look only reveals itself when he assumes his position as your misfit group’s leader. It would be extremely attractive if it didn’t scare you.   

“How can you fight shadows?” Yoongi deadpans. He stares into your eyes long enough to make your face feel hot, but you don’t look away. 

“I…” 

Yoongi hums at your lack of an answer. Suddenly, you feel unbelievably small. 

“It’s not impossible,” Jungkook whispers. His head hangs low, long bangs hiding his face. The rest of his hair is tied into a bun at the nape of his neck. “I’m just as beatable as you, hyung.” 

Something about Yoongi’s expression softens at the honorific. Formalities died long ago, along with many other traditions that once made Korea what it was. So many things died during the war - tangible and cultural - lives and ways of being. Now, the Republic is something you know your friends no longer recognize. Although it is not your home country, your heart aches for what it once was - something you will never have the privilege to experience because you arrived during the Restoration of the Republic - a fallacy of an era since the country was never restored to how it was. 

That may be best. It is easier to mourn the loss of something you never knew.

In moments like this, you feel terribly inadequate - when you speak with broken Korean or struggle to understand the foreign politics behind why Gifteds are hunted, no matter how many times Namjoon patiently attempts to teach you. All you know is that, at least here, to be Gifted is not a death sentence, per se. Other countries’ governments have been far less lenient with their mutant population. 

You’re simply seen as a science experiment to be tested on, poked and prodded, pushed until you’re driven mad, and then warped into whatever shape the government has the need for. 

“You have no match,” Yoongi smiles softly at Jungkook with a shake of his head. “I do.” 

Holding out his hand, a small flame appears in the center of Yoongi’s palm. It floats just above the skin, though he isn’t burned. You’ve seen Yoongi summon fire a million times from the heat of the air around him, and he never ceases to amaze you.

With a nod in Namjoon’s direction, Yoongi waits for a small rope of dirty water to splash against his hand. Namjoon is much kinder in his attack against Yoongi, only summoning enough water to extinguish the flame. 

“Water will always win against me,” Yoongi admits. This time, he holds your gaze when he speaks. “It is my match.” 

You feel something stir in your belly that migrates up your chest until it eventually threatens to suffocate you, nearly getting lodged in your throat. 

“You would do well to continue sparring with Namjoon,” he says after a moment before turning to Hoseok and Jungkook, who have otherwise been silent. 

It’s an order, even if Yoongi is gentle with his words. 

With a sigh, you turn back to Namjoon. It’s difficult to stamp down the heat Yoongi always manages to trigger inside of you. You would compare him to fire even if it didn’t already run in his veins. 

Drawing from the murky stream, you weave a ball of water between your palms.

“Let’s go again.” 

While you spar with Namjoon, Yoongi leads Hoseok and Jungkook to the other end of the field.

You and Namjoon spar as though you are dancing. It’s a push and pull, your rhythms falling into harmony, even when one of you performs a surprise attack or a new move that hasn’t been practiced before. Perhaps it is because you both fight with water. There is a fluidity to it that the others don’t possess. 

Occasionally, your eyes stray to where Yoongi, Hoseok, and Jungkook have begun to spar. The three men do not dance. Instead, they are a fury of elements intertwining in chaos. The wind snuffs fire, Yoongi and Hoseok blasting each other incessantly. Shadows allow Jungkook to disappear before being hit by an attack, only to reappear right behind his opponent to go in for the kill. 

And it would be a kill if this was real. You know Jungkook keeps a rather terrifying knife strapped to his thigh. You all carry weapons, though you don’t really need them. Even Jungkook, with a Gift that’s misunderstood and exceptionally rare, is never found without his weapon. 

Out of all the Gifteds you’ve met on your way to safety, you have never encountered another who can manipulate shadows. So, there is truth to Yoongi’s statement. 

Jungkook is terrifying, even with the wide, starry eyes he always seems to stare at you with. He’s quiet and shy, typically sticking to Hoseok. You assume it’s likely because you found the two of them together. Both were kept in the same room at the research facility in Busan. As unassuming as Jungkook may be, you’ve seen him manipulate shadows to wrap around a Red Pin’s neck. Those shadows twisted and tightened until the man crumpled. 

You didn’t need to have the Gift of blood manipulation to know when his heart stopped. 

It was one of the scariest moments of your life, even beyond the suffering you’d endured having lived in the research facilities since you were a teen. Before then, you’d never seen someone die. Even when Yoongi and Namjoon helped you escape, they shielded you from the worst of it. It wasn’t until the three of you came upon the newest facility that such horrors were unleashed. 

Jungkook hates himself for it. You know he does; you typically make your bed beside his, and he cries in his sleep. Self-defense protects the body in the moment, but harms the mind and heart long-term. 

You probably would have done the same. 

For as tragic as his story is - or what little you know of it - Jungkook has an undeniably beautiful soul. Those horrors have yet to turn him cruel or his heart black. Even when he spars, you can tell that he’s being gentle. He holds back and doesn’t reach his full potential out of fear of hurting others, you’re sure. You can see it in how he bounces on the balls of his feet to keep his movements light and how his back muscles ripple beneath his shirt as it clings to his skin. A bead of sweat runs along his neck, over the vein that bulges from his exerting effort. 

Something prickles under your skin. When you look up, it’s into those wide eyes full of galaxies you’ll never understand, are somehow okay with not understanding if it means you can continue to gaze upon them. 

A small smile pulls the corners of Jungkook’s mouth up. His expression is short-lived, though, quickly falling as a bright orange flame licks at his ankles. 

“Don’t let my words get to your head, Jeon,” Yoongi teases. “Impossible to beat, but easy to hurt.” 

This time, you catch Yoongi’s eye. You duck your head when he winks at you, just in time to block another blast of water from Namjoon. 

“Why is everyone so off today?” Namjoon grumbles to himself. You haven’t managed to successfully hit him even once. 

“I’m tired,” you whine again, dropping a ball of water to the ground. Dead grass quickly soaks it up once it splashes. “We should check on Jessi.” 

Your group’s sixth and final member is tucked away in the corner of the warehouse on the top floor. It’s dark up there, though Yoongi’s everlasting fire, paired with the windows Jessi managed to open, gives enough light for her to work. 

She has black grease smudged on her left cheek and across her forehead. Her long, thick hair is tied back into a ponytail, though strands have fallen out to frame her face. When you step closer, you hear her muttering, but you can’t make out what she’s saying. It’s not for you. She speaks, facing the black box placed in front of where she kneels on the floor. The floor can’t feel good on her knees with its bits of broken concrete and dirt. Everything hurts in this life; it hardly matters as long as you’re here and not there. 

“This piece of shit,” Jessi hisses, running her hands across her face. It smears more grease onto her skin, but she doesn’t care. 

“Not working?” 

“Beep beep boop beeping all over the fucking place, then static. White noise and shit. Like it’s telling me to fuck off even though I’m the one fixing it.” 

You hum, crouching down to stare at the box. It’s an old radio meant to transport messages back and forth. Perhaps left behind by the military after it had occupied this land while it bulldozed the vigilantes seeking to save Gifteds from the fate you all ended up sharing anyway. 

Jessi tweaks a few exposed wires. Every time they spark, you flinch. Mini white lightning, it’s deadly for anyone but Jessi. She grumbles and continues her work with deft fingers calloused from toiling away at the stupid thing for months. 

“I’m normally so fucking good at this, I swear to God.” 

Frustration colors her tone, even if her expression and cursing didn’t already give her feelings away. 

You don’t doubt her, though, and you tell her as much. Still, you know firsthand that it sucks when your powers don’t work how you want them to. As a technopath, fixing the radio should be easy work for her.

“There must be something wrong with it… Maybe the Red Pins did something to it?” 

You don’t know anything about technology. Even with the phone you’d stolen off one of the Red Pins, all you’d gotten to do was look at TikTok and try to find out where your parents were before Yoongi made you destroy the device. The government had ways to track you. Technology was as much your friend as a stranger on the street. 

With a sigh, Jessi leans back until she’s sitting flat on the grimy floor. 

“Maybe? Fuck if I know. I think I’m getting close, though. I’m getting some frequency when I concentrate really hard, but I wanna fix it so it’ll work even without me.” 

Your friend whispers the end of her statement. It goes without saying; each one of you knows the fragility of life on the run. 

“Thank you for working so hard.” Even in the dim lighting, you can see her watery eyes shine. It hurts your heart, but all you can offer is a light squeeze of her shoulder. 

Jessi shrugs. “It’s as much for me as it is for you.” 

You watch her stand and brush the dirt from her butt, her joints cracking from sitting down too long. When you first joined this mutant crew, you would have followed behind Jessi to comfort her. But, after months of running and fighting, you’ve learned that sometimes solitude is the best healing method. 

4 MONTHS, 2 DAYS

“What makes you think you’re ready? That any of us are ready?” 

Yoongi watches you with catlike eyes from where he sits at the kitchen table. The chairs circled around the battered wooden table are mismatched and in varying stages of deterioration from being abandoned for so long. The one Yoongi sits in is metal, and he leans on its two back legs, his right foot pressed to the floor to keep himself steady and his arms crossed against his chest. 

Although Yoongi isn’t raising his voice - he never does - you still feel like you’re being scolded. 

“I know we are,” you challenge him. Your voice is steady even as your fingers tremble. To stop them from shaking, you squeeze your hands into a fist, nails biting at the skin of your palms. 

You should sit down, but holding your energy in is hard. Instead, you pace the kitchen while Yoongi’s cat eyes and Jessi’s wide ones follow you. You feel like a lion looping its cage, the desire to run restricted and confined. 

“How?” 

“We can’t stay here, Yoong! We can’t. I can’t.” 

The front legs of Yoongi’s chair slam into the concrete floor. He allows the momentum to pull him forward, landing his elbows on the table’s surface. 

Looking at Yoongi hurts. You can tell from his face that the next thing he says won’t be pleasant. His lips are pressed into a fine line that curves downward slightly. It’s cute how he can pull off a straight-lipped frown, but not when it’s directed at you. 

It’s been at least an hour of back and forth between the three of you. Jessi tapped out a long time ago, resolved to watch the tennis match of an argument between you and Yoongi rather than exert energy on a fight she isn’t committed to. Yoongi and Jessi have the final say in all group decisions as the group’s elders. It’s another reminder of how you think Yoongi sees you as someone to take care of rather than an equal. 

“Have you ever killed someone before, Y/N?” 

You pause your pacing to stand in front of the table. Yoongi is an exceptional cook, managing to create delicious meals out of what little you all have to work with from the forest. But now, at this moment, you feel like you’re going to be sick from the food churning in your stomach. 

“No.”  

“No,” Yoongi repeats. He speaks slowly, like he’s mulling your answer over, letting it twist around his tongue until he’s satisfied enough with its taste to swallow it down. 

Leaning forward, Yoongi presses his palms against the table’s surface. He spreads his fingers and stares at them. The two of you seem to trace over the scars that line his skin, little nicks, and slices that healed light pink or blazing white. You’ve never seen Yoongi naked, but you have seen a good expanse of his body when you’ve used your Gift to help the others get clean. From what you’ve seen, you know Yoongi’s entire body is littered with battle scars. 

“I have,” he admits what you already knew, and the gravelly sound of his voice makes you shudder. “Jungkook has.” 

You wince at the mention of the younger man, but Yoongi doesn’t give you a chance to speak. 

“Do you want to ask him what it’s like to squeeze the life out of another man? He may have done it with shadows, but I guarantee he still felt it in his hands.” 

Yoongi lifts his eyes to yours when the first tear rolls down your cheek. Concern wrinkles his forehead. 

“Yoongi,” you start, but the pink-haired man shakes his head. 

“I don’t mean to upset you, kiddo.” The pet name twists your gut tighter with frustration - even though Yoongi’s voice is filled with gentle adoration when he calls out to you. “But I’ll be damned if I let us walk into that forest without knowing where we’re going or whose claws we’re running into. The Gifted Commune is, at best, a rumor. At worst - a trap.”

You want to tell him that falling for a rumor or getting caught by the government is better than sitting in a concrete cage. The prospect of finding a community of other Gifted runaways who have managed to create a society safe from the evils you’ve grown up with means more to you than the fear of the unknown. 

There’s no use, though. Jessi is nodding along to Yoongi’s words; the blank expression she wears when she’s upset already masks her face.

“I will not put you in a situation where you must kill or be killed, Y/N. I won’t fucking do it.” Yoongi clears his throat suddenly, and he looks away from you. You’re unsure, but think he might be blinking back unshed tears.

You’re still pissed, but now your anger is mixed quite prettily with debilitating guilt. You’ve never seen Yoongi cry, and you realize with a sinking feeling that you really don’t want to. 

“It’s too fucking risky,” Jessi finally speaks. She presses her fingers against her forehead, massaging it slowly as she, too, looks for words. “The radio is almost fixed; I can feel that it’s close. Then we will have a clearer line of communication with the Commune. It doesn’t guarantee anything, obviously, but it’s better than going in without fucking knowing anything.” 

There’s nothing else to say. Yoongi doesn’t look at you or Jessi, instead staring at something in the opposite corner of the room.

Jessi gives you what you think is a smile laced with pity - or at least an apology. 

How can everyone be so content to stay in the warehouse? You’re a bunch of sitting ducks, hiding out in the same location for months, practically waiting for the government to send their agents to either corral you into laboratories again or exterminate you. You don’t understand how becoming a moving target is a bad thing. 

But, ultimately, you don’t understand why Yoongi can’t just trust you. 

With a frustrated huff, you twist around to hurry out of the kitchen. As you cross the threshold, Namjoon appears in the doorway. 

“Oh, I need to ask you-” 

You don’t mean to shove Namjoon with your shoulder as hard as you do, but you don’t have the patience to comply with whatever he expects you to do for him. Probably more sparring and training. 

On the one hand, sharing your identity as a water elemental with someone else in the group is an affirming experience. On the other, it’s infuriating because Namjoon sees your potential and pushes you toward it - even when you fight against him. 

Namjoon sputters something, and you hear Jessi convince him to drop it. Whatever else they have to say is lost on you; you’re no longer interested in entertaining the conversations of the “leaders” of the group. Part of you wants to find Hoseok or Jungkook to force them to commiserate with you, but something about dumping your sludge of emotions onto them feels wrong. 

So you do what you’ve always done best: you repress. 

It isn’t until a few hours later when you’re lounging on your makeshift bed with the only tattered book you kept from your facility (Fahrenheit 451, how fitting), that you give yourself over to the gnawing need to interact with other humans. 

Jungkook bounces on the balls of his feet, items that you can’t make out pressed against his chest. 

“Will you cut my hair for me, noona?” 

The out-of-use honorific flusters you, making your face burn under Jungkook’s attentive gaze. 

“You don’t have to be so formal with me,” you insist, embarrassment ravaging your twisted stomach and fluttering chest. Something about the attention Jungkook gives you makes you feel nervous and giddy. 

“It’s not very formal, really. It’s… respectful? I just… You are, it means,” Jungkook lets out a huff. He blows his bangs out of his face as his cheeks turn pink. “You are special to me.” 

You duck your head, shocked by Jungkook’s honesty. It warms you in a way you’re not sure you understand, letting the feeling sit inside your chest rather than exploring it any further. 

“Where I come from, we don’t have words like that.” 

Jungkook gives you a shrug. Neither of you mentions that in Korea, those words don’t really exist anymore, either. 

“But, okay,” you relent softly. 

Jungkook stands beside the mess of blankets that make up your bed, holding a pair of scissors and electric clippers Jessi enhanced to operate on their own. Jungkook nicked them from a Red Pin on their way out of the research facility he’d grown up in. Hairstyling tools didn’t seem high on your list of items to steal, but they’d come in handy. Like now, with Jungkook’s bangs falling entirely into his eyes and his hair sweeping across his shoulders. 

The pout Jungkook wears lessens slightly. He holds out the tools with an expectant look on his face. It’s cute how his bottom lip juts out, pink and chapped from nervously chewing on it. You’d overheard Namjoon scolding him for something earlier that morning before you went outside to patrol the grounds with Hoseok and Jessi.

Taking the items from Jungkook, you lead him out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. The lights sputter briefly before they fully brighten the small room. Jessi was excited to learn that her Gift extended to electricity as a whole, not just that within technology like computers and radios. With all your Gifts combined, the warehouse is liveable, almost comfortable. 

Jungkook sits on the closed lid of the toilet, making you tower over him. He parts his legs slightly so you can stand between them as you run your fingers through his hair. 

You spread your fingers and sweep his bangs up, exposing his forehead. It opens up his face more and makes him look older. Jungkook is handsome; there’s no denying that. You’re sure in another life, he could have been a regular college kid with a sweet girlfriend and a bright future. 

“What would you like me to do?” 

“Hmm?” Jungkook hums with his eyes closed, and his head tilted back slightly. 

You don’t miss how he leans into your touch, completely pliable in your hands, as you massage his scalp and continue to play with his hair. It’s thick and soft, even without the proper haircare products to maintain the health of the follicles. 

“How do you want me to cut it, silly?” 

You reach for the hairbrush you keep tucked away in the bathroom cabinet. It takes a few more moments of silence while you brush out Jungkook’s waves before he finally speaks. 

“Short. Cut it all off, please? It’s too hard to take care of now, and it gets in my face.” 

“Don’t get mad at me if it comes out bad.” 

Jungkook lets out a frustrated sound. “You always do a great job. You gave Yoongi hyung an undercut. It looks so good!” 

At the mention of Yoongi, you feel your heart drop. Somehow you know Jungkook is here to make you feel better even if he hasn’t said anything about the argument, and he’s the one seeking your help, not the other way around. He’s a distraction - one you wonder if Yoongi sent himself. 

It isn’t that Yoongi won’t apologize; you just never give him a chance to before you run off to lick your wounds on your own. 

It’s the healing quality of solitude, you think as you prepare to cut Jungkook’s hair. However, this time, you’re not alone. 

You can’t help but smile when Jungkook starts singing a song of his own creation as chunks of his hair fall to the floor. His song drowns out the static that buzzes in your brain like the fuzziness Jessi’s broken radio emits when anyone but her fiddles with it. 

“This way,” you speak softly, not wanting to disrupt his singing as you press your fingertips against his jaw and under his chin to lift his face toward you. Your finger presses against the little mole just below Jungkook’s bottom lip. The angle gives you a better view of your work so far. 

A small smile flickers on Jungkook’s face as though he’s trying to keep it down, but the corners of his mouth won’t listen to him. 

“It feels nice. We don’t touch.”

You hum and nod your head, but Jungkook’s eyes are still closed. It’s true; kind touches are rare. Hoseok is really the only one who gives out hugs. Everything is tough all the time. There’s little room for gentleness, even amongst friends. 

So you understand when Jungkook’s smile wins out, and he finally surrenders to the happiness your light touches along his jaw bring him. 

4 MONTHS, 5 DAYS

It takes Yoongi three days to apologize. 

Perhaps you should have apologized first, but you struggle to see how you could have done anything that warrants an apology. Yes, you feel bad for upsetting Yoongi, but his attitude toward you lately has rubbed you the wrong way. 

During the three days it takes him to apologize to you, he seems to do his best to avoid you. 

On the days you’re assigned to go on patrol with Yoongi, Jungkook accompanies you instead. You don’t mind having Jungkook by your side, you discover, even though you’re upset that Yoongi is behaving so childishly. 

Neither Jungkook nor Yoongi talks much, but you learn that their silence feels different. Whereas Yoongi’s silence stems from feeling confident and content with not needing to fill the air with incessant babbling, Jungkook’s silence is awkward and heavy. He fiddles with the loose strings of his shirt, his reddened cuticles, and everything else. You don’t mind the awkwardness, though. It’s nice to comb through the woods with someone as powerful as Jungkook; you know there’s nothing to fear with him around. 

The only weapon Jungkook carries is the knife strapped to his thigh. You, on the other hand, stay heavily armed. Your fingers tighten around your bow. When you twist your torso, the harness that holds your arrows digs into your shoulder. You also have a knife, though you are honestly afraid of close combat. A gun would be even better, but ammo is difficult to come by. It’s easier to collect your arrows after you’ve shot them, although you haven’t needed to yet. Since finding refuge at the warehouse, no one has discovered your group. 

Apparently, all your friends are willing to keep testing fate. You aren’t interested in pushing your luck. Jungkook doesn’t comment on the group’s plans for moving forward - or lack thereof. Something tells you that he’ll do whatever Yoongi and Jessi tell him to do. 

Still, going on patrol with Jungkook does a decent job of preventing your thoughts from straying toward your argument with Yoongi. Your hands brushed together a few times as you walked side by side, and you could practically feel Jungkook’s brain shortcircuit from the contact. 

Part of you thinks he has a crush on you, but the more logical part of you knows he’s probably shy. The kid has gone through a lot in life. Not everything is always about you; you try to remind yourself. Yoongi doesn’t even want you. Why would Jungkook?

On the third day, bright doe eyes don’t greet you at the edge of the woods, just as the sun is kissing the sky for the first time. Instead, sharp cat eyes hold your gaze when you lightly jog over. 

“Good morning, kiddo.” 

Yoongi wears dark shorts with tattered edges cut from a pair of old jeans and a plain t-shirt the color of the forest in spring. It’s not warm enough to wear what he’s wearing, but fire elementals run hot like you run cold. 

“Hi,” you say, voice a bit stunted as you hold your jacket tighter to your body. 

You’ve foregone your bow and arrows today; you may or may not have snapped your bow in a fit of frustration that may or may not have anything to do with Yoongi ignoring you at dinner the night before. A knife and your Gift will have to do, but you feel it is enough. Namjoon insists on learning how to use your Gifts and weapons in tandem. For double the defense, or so he says. 

Carrying a knife seems ridiculous when you know how to choke someone with their own spit without touching them. 

Once you’re within arm’s reach, Yoongi offers his hand to you. He holds it as though he’s going in for a handshake. Yellow-orange fire licks at his palm and swirls in tendrils around his fingers and wrist. 

After a few seconds of silence, he makes a slight grunting sound and wiggles his fingers, beckoning you. 

It’s impossible not to cave. A prickly feeling tingles down your arm, beginning somewhere in your chest and eventually settling in your fingertips. A tiny hurricane of water stolen from the moisture in the air circles around your hand just as the fire does Yoongi’s. 

He lets out a pleased sound when your palms glide across each other. You hook your thumbs together, using the momentum to spin your hands around until your fingers are interlaced and pressed into your palms. You both squeeze your hands once, twice, three times in a heartbeat before pulling away. By the end, the fire and water have disappeared. 

When you meet Yoongi’s eyes, the warmth of the fire in his palm has transferred to his gaze. There is an apology in how you release each other’s hands. The handshake holds secret words of friendship and reassurance between you. 

The two of you stand in silence for a bit until Yoongi tilts his head in the direction of the woods. You nod in response and follow Yoongi along one of the many patrol paths your group has established. 

There’s never anything in the woods besides small animals like squirrels and rabbits, but everyone feels better knowing there is a consistent patrol of the area, just in case. 

“So,” When you look at Yoongi, his lips twist into a light smirk you absolutely do not like. “You and Jungkook.” 

“Me and Jungkook what?” 

Yoongi shrugs. “Just seems like you two been hanging out a lot.” 

“Yeah, because you were fucking ignoring me all week.” 

His smirk drops into a stern frown, but Yoongi continues following the path. He walks slightly ahead of you with his hands clasped behind his back. It feels like he’s taking a leisurely stroll through a garden rather than going on patrol in the woods for government assassins. 

“It was immature and irresponsible of me, and I’m sorry for that.” 

Forgiving Yoongi is too easy. It’s the way the morning sun shines through the canopy of trees above you, casting streaks of light against his fading pink hair. The way he carries himself with confidence is gentle and comforting rather than arrogant or misplaced. It’s how he looks at you; you know he would do anything for you.

“It’s okay,” you finally concede. You scramble a bit to fall in line with Yoongi again. “I was being dramatic.” 

“Life is one big drama, isn’t it?” Yoongi muses with a chuckle. It’s a question he doesn’t expect an answer to, which is good, considering you’ve got something else buzzing around in your head. 

Well, fuck it. You’re just gonna say it.  

Heart pounding, you eventually find it in you to say, “I still think you’re wrong.” 

After a moment, Yoongi hums in acknowledgment of your admission but doesn’t offer anything else. It’s better than nothing, so you tell yourself to be content with all that he offers. 

“Anyway…” You don’t want to drop the subject, but Yoongi’s question is nagging in the back of your brain now - a nagging question you now have a gnawing desire to know the meaning behind. “Me and Jungkook can hang out without it meaning-” 

Before you can finish your statement, Yoongi slaps his hand against your mouth. The calluses on his palms are rough against your chapped lips, and his skin is sweaty. His free arm comes around to the front of your chest near your collarbones. He draws you against his chest so tightly you can’t move. 

“Don’t talk.” His breath is hot against your face, and his voice is almost indiscernible. 

You give a tiny nod before locking your body completely still. You hold your breath, straining to hear what Yoongi might hear or see what he might see. There’s nothing, just the usual sound of life in the woods - birds chirping, small animals scurrying in the brush. You don’t see anything either. 

You can only focus on the frantic pounding of your heart and the calm beat of Yoongi’s against your back. How he can be so relaxed when he thinks there might be danger in the woods that you can’t even see is unreal.

Slowly, Yoongi takes a step back away from you. He holds a finger to his lips and silently mouths for you to stay where you are. Everything inside you screams to disobey as you watch Yoongi disappear further into the woods, the thick trees swallowing him whole. 

But you don’t. You stay put, fear rooting you to the ground even though your body desperately wants to follow. 

What lies beyond the thicket of trees? What is dangerous enough that Yoongi wants you to stay put but not so dangerous that he believes he can take it on alone? 

Just when your resolve is about to crumble, something catches your attention out of the corner of your eye. Barely breathing, you turn your head to watch a dark spot glide across the forest floor. It’s two-dimensional, not an object but a presence creeping along the ground.

Suddenly, the spot grows. It spreads, turning its shape from a flat, uneven circle to a thing with tendrils sticking out of it, each new tendril moving independently. You gasp when one of the tendrils creeps up your leg. Despite being two-dimensional, you can feel the darkness. It’s firm and cold, like a snake slithering up your body. 

Every inch of you trembles as the strange darkness slowly spreads across your body. You squeeze your eyes and hold your breath. Perhaps this is the thing that Yoongi saw, a phantom stalking the trees. But now you’re left behind to be absorbed into its darkness, eaten alive. 

You’re startled when the cold disappears; instead, strong arms pull you against a firm chest. Warmth envelopes you, and when you open your eyes, you see familiar ones looking back at you.

“I got you,” Jungkook murmurs. He has you tucked under his chin, and he tilts his head down when he speaks to you. You shiver as his lips lightly brush against your forehead. 

“Where did you-”  

“Shhh.” 

Jungkook’s heart isn’t steady like Yoongi’s had been. On the contrary, it’s beating rather furiously. You can hear him attempting to regulate his emotions, taking in mindful breaths and exhaling in a way that tickles your skin.

You don’t know how long you stand there pulled against Jungkook’s chest. After a while, your breathing matches his until you fall into a gentle rhythm that makes you sleepy. The adrenaline is making you crash, your body hardly strong enough to hold yourself up after panicking so severely - still panicking. Luckily, when you lean into Jungkook, his hold on you tightens. 

In another situation, pressing your fronts together would have flooded your body with heat. You can feel all of Jungkook like this, from the bulging muscles of his chest to his thigh pressed slightly between your legs from how he holds you up. But fear of the unknown and Jungkook’s clearly distressed state prevent those other thoughts from materializing. 

Jungkook’s body doesn’t relax until Yoongi appears around the corner of a large tree. He keeps his arms wrapped around you, and for a second, Yoongi looks around at the clearing you’re in as though he can’t see you. 

It isn’t until Jungkook lets go of you that recognition flashes in Yoongi’s eyes. 

“There you are,” Yoongi murmurs to the two of you. He looks like he rolled around on the ground, little pieces of leaves and sticks caught in his hair and stuck to his clothes. His left knee is bleeding from a few superficial scrapes. 

“What the fuck happened to you?” 

Yoongi looks at Jungkook before he answers your question, which irritates you. “I tripped when I rushed in, but it was nothing. Just a large fox I heard making noise back there.” 

A fox is likely the largest animal in the woods, with no bears or wolves in the area. Still, you don’t trust Yoongi. You can pick up on the charred smell coming off of him. He smells like a barbecue, which means only one thing… 

“Have you been practicing turning yourself invisible?” 

Jungkook ducks his head down but no longer has long bangs to hide his face. It takes a second for your brain to process Yoongi’s question - and the change in the topic - but Jungkook is already answering him by the time you figure it out. 

“It’s not really invisibility,” he says softly. “It’s more like… an illusion.”

Yoongi hums and motions for the two of you to start walking. You’re returning to the warehouse, you realize, even though you only just started the patrol route. 

“Yeah, I can… adjust the lighting, I guess? To make it seem like you can’t see me. Or, us, this time.” 

Jungkook gives you a small smile when you whip around to look at him.

“I didn’t know you could do that.” 

“Yeah,” Jungkook repeats. He draws his bottom lip between his teeth and wiggles it like he has more to say but doesn’t want to let it out just yet. 

The three of you walk in silence until you reach the warehouse. When Yoongi walks ahead of you, you can tell he’s limping, even as he does his best to walk normally. 

“He’s okay.” 

Jungkook stands beside you in the field behind the warehouse, watching Yoongi reach the backdoor. 

“He’s bleeding.” 

Jungkook’s ears are pink when he responds, “He’ll be okay.”

“He’s lying to us.” 

Jungkook absentmindedly runs his fingers along his bottom lip. It droops as he speaks through a pout. “Maybe. But I trust him, even if he is.” 

It’s a strange thing to trust someone who is lying. 

All you can do is nod. All you can do is accept that the people around you are doing what’s right because, aside from them, there is no one and nothing you can trust in the world. 

As you approach the warehouse, Jungkook curls his fingers around your wrist to stop you. He watches you with the same wide-eyed look he gives everyone, though something about this time feels different. His expression is more open and vulnerable. He looks at you like he’s waiting for you to hurt him. 

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he apologizes softly. 

“But you didn’t?” 

Your eyebrows crease your forehead, trying to recall what you may have done to make Jungkook feel like you feared him. Sure, his sudden appearance in the woods was startling, but he’d brought you a feeling of comfort and safety - not fear. 

Jungkook doesn’t correct you. Instead, he lets go of your wrist as shame warms his cheeks, but he doesn’t look away from you. The timidness is still there. You can see it in how he chews on his bottom lip. Still, his eyes take on a more guarded, hardened expression for a split second, and then… 

He’s gone. 

“What the fuck?” You mutter to yourself. 

Now that you’ve seen the darkness before, your eyes quickly notice the spot on the ground that creeps and grows into odd shapes, slinking along the grass before taking form up your legs, curling around your arms. 

It’s Jungkook. You knew it in the woods, somewhere deep down. Your fear for Yoongi’s safety - and your own - prevented you from processing the situation. But now, as the darkness envelopes you again, you know what to expect when you close your eyes and open them to see Jungkook’s broad chest as he crushes you against him. 

“You never showed me before.” 

Maybe it’s weird that you’re still clinging to each other, but Jungkook is warm and solid, and his heartbeat guides yours into a slower rhythm. 

“That’s because it’s creepy.” 

“Well, I think it’s cool. Even though, yeah, you kinda scared the shit outta me.” 

Jungkook lets out an embarrassed whine and squeezes you tighter. You knew he could command shadows but hadn’t realized he could become one or move within them. Sure, the tornado trick he’d done a few times with Hoseok had been cool, but you’d always thought he was merely swirling the darkness around himself. You hadn’t realized he was the darkness. 

Honestly, it made him all the more terrifying and equally as endearing. 

“I just had this… feeling something bad was happening…” Jungkook whispers into your hair. “I needed to check.”

“Good thing it was only a fox.”

Jungkook nods in agreement; you know he believes it more than you do. 

“I’m just happy you’re safe.” You can feel his cheek press against the top of your head for a moment before he finally releases you. 

There’s a feeling there as Jungkook leads you to the warehouse. He laces his fingers with yours, and you can’t help but hear Yoongi’s question on a loop in your head. 

You and Jungkook? 

4 MONTHS, 3 WEEKS

“What if they think we’re the feds and feed us false information?” 

“We’re too stupid to be the feds. It would be obvious.”

“I don’t know… we all escaped the government, so they must be pretty stupid.” 

“What if they’re the feds?” 

“Shit, I never thought about that.”

“They’re not the fucking feds.” 

“How do you know that?!” 

“Can all of you please just shut the fuck up?” 

The six of you crowd around the radio on the kitchen table. Jessi shows you how to operate it, which flip to switch to activate the microphone, and how to adjust the volume. You’re all muted for now. When Hoseok goes to flip the switch, Jessi smacks his hand out of the way. 

“Listen to me,” she says sternly, turning in her seat to get a good look at all of you. “No one talks.” 

“But-” 

“No one talks.” 

Five heads nod at her command, including Yoongi, which feels very satisfying to you for some reason. 

Details of the Gifted Commune somewhere beyond the woods traveled by word of mouth. Coordinates and radio frequencies were exchanged in hushed tones between the Gifteds who dared dream of a life beyond the Labs. You’re sad to admit that you were never one of those Gifteds. It wasn’t until Yoongi helped you escape that you even realized escaping was an option, so brainwashed into thinking the Labs were all you had. You were in a new country, stumbling through an unfamiliar language, taken from your family. Sure, you’d learned enough to get by over time - but missing your adolescent years made you feel hopeless. 

Jessi is the only one who had communicated with the Commune leaders in the past when she and another Gifted managed to break into a control room in the Labs she came from. 

That’s why she’s the one to speak into the radio that you find operates much like a long-distance walkie-talkie. You’re glad it’s not you. She introduces herself, her whereabouts, and her credentials with an even voice you know you could never replicate. 

Despite the distrust you’re all afraid of, Jessi’s previous connection to the Commune makes it easy for her to request to speak to the Commune leader, a healer named Kim Taehyung. 

Sitting with your fingers gripping the edge of the table so tightly your knuckles are beginning to ache, you lean forward as though you can get closer to the gentle voice that floats from the radio’s speakers. 

Taehyung doesn’t sound anything like you’d imagined, though you aren’t sure what you were expecting, to be honest. Maybe someone with a rougher voice made harsh by the trials of life as a fugitive of the Republic. Instead, he’s soft as he asks Jessi how many there are of you and what your coordinates are. This man, already larger than life even though none of you knows what he looks like, is patient as he gives Jessi instructions on how to reach the Commune. 

“I can assure you,” Taehyung speaks, and you don’t know what he’s about to say, but you find yourself already believing him, “You will be safe here. It won’t be a short trip.” That makes your gut twist, but you focus on his following words. “But there are abandoned shelters along the route to find refuge in. The nights get terribly cold.” 

Namjoon scribbles some notes down on a worn piece of paper. It’s been written on and erased to add more notes over the months you’ve been at the warehouse since there are only a few pieces of paper between the six of you. There’s a small hole in the middle of the page where someone erased too hard - or too many times, you suppose. 

“Thank you, Taehyung-ssi.” 

The line is quiet for a moment. Jessi’s gaze shoots up to glare at Jungkook’s interruption, but Taehyung speaks before she can chastise the younger man. 

“Anything for my dongsaeng,” the man on the other side of the radio states. 

You don’t know him, so there is no way to tell if the subtle lilt to his voice indicates affection, but it seems like it as the two men use polite terms no one ever uses anymore. It’s old-fashioned and reminiscent of a time lost to all of you. 

Jessi steers the conversation back to planning the group’s journey to the Commune. Excitement makes you jittery as you skip out of the kitchen, the men - aside from Yoongi - following after you. The boring stuff is what follows, and you’re all content to let the leaders discuss that stuff. 

“Do you think we’ll be able to do it?” Hoseok clasps his hands together, occasionally squeezing them. When he speaks, he keeps his eyes on the closed kitchen door. 

Namjoon shrugs at the same time you respond, “We have to.” 

5 MONTHS

Later, when you look back on this time in your life, you’ll see that everything that transpired during those precious months at the warehouse led up to this. 

At the moment, though, you don’t see anything but the beginnings of spring attempting to sprout from the hard winter earth. 

You sit on the roof atop the old milkcrate with your elbows on your knees. Your eyes follow a small butterfly floating through the light breeze. It’s quiet, just like any other day. 

Yoongi, Jessi, and Namjoon are inside, preparing for the trip you all will make through the woods to the Commune. Hoseok and Jungkook are somewhere at the perimeter of the woods, gathering whatever they can as food for the trip. 

You’ve learned that there is a runaway at the Commune whose Gift allows them to disguise the Commune, similar to Jungkook’s Gift of optical illusion through shadows. Except this Gifted can alter reality, bend the shape of time and space to make the Commune simply…. disappear to anyone they don’t want to find it. 

It sounds otherworldly, something you can hardly wrap your head around, but you must remind yourself that before your Gift had revealed itself to you, you had never believed in the supernatural or fantasy. Now you were everything a younger version of you couldn’t have begun to believe. 

A tiny part of you had been worried that you would get nervous, but you find you can’t sit still from the enthusiasm building up energy in your body to the point you might explode. It’s exciting, the knowledge that in a few short days, you won’t have to sit on top of this roof with your bow and fear that has seemed to make its home deep inside your chest. 

Soon you’ll be safe. 

You hold your breath as the butterfly gently flutters toward you. With a slight dip in its flight, the beautiful insect descends until it rests on your shoe. You’re pretty sure you learned somewhere that butterflies shouldn’t be touched, but you want to run your finger along its wings so badly. 

Just before you can touch it, a scream rings out, echoing against the warehouse and reverberating across the industrial park’s empty fields and parking lots. Crows take off into the sky, their cawing harmonizing with the shouts coming from behind you. 

With your heart beating in your throat, you stand and run to the other side of the roof toward the woods. 

“RUN! Y/N, FUCKING RUN!” 

You just barely catch a glimpse of Jungkook’s face as he sprints out of the woods before suddenly disappearing. Your blood becomes ice, piercing your veins as it glides through your body. Jungkook is a shadow now, you tell yourself. He didn’t really disappear.  

Hoseok stumbles out of the woods behind Jungkook, the wind at his feet enabling him to run across the field faster than an average human. 

At first, you think they’re just playing some silly game. Jungkook and Hoseok always mess around, pranking each other and playfighting. This seems like some elaborate joke until you watch Hoseok use his Gift to lift a giant chunk of concrete from the ground near the warehouse and throw it toward the woods. 

You watch with wide eyes as multiple masked men, wearing all black except for the blood-red insignia of the Republic on their chests, crash through the woods like a spring flood. 

Red Pin agents. 

They’re armed with guns, some still on their hips while others are holding them out in front of them as they swarm the warehouse’s perimeter. 

One of the men tilts his head up, his dark eyes locking with yours before you drop to your knees to hide behind the protective barrier around the roof. 

You throw your bow over your arm and head so it rests across your chest and back and crawl as quickly as you can toward the trapdoor. 

Your limbs tremble so terribly that you miss the last few rungs of the ladder and fall flat on your back, knocking the wind out of you. With a gasp, you touch the back of your head and try to blink away the stars swarming your eyes. When you bring your hand back, your fingers are coated red. 

“Shit! Get up, Y/N. Get the fuck up!” 

A pair of strong hands squeeze your biceps, and once your vision clears, you see that it’s Jessi hauling you to your feet. There are grease streaks on her face. You wonder if they’re from…

“The radio,” you croak, your lungs still struggling to work properly. 

“It was fucking rigged,” she spits, “I don’t know how I couldn’t sense it. But it was.”

And now they are here to collect you - or kill you, you aren’t sure. 

Maybe they would spare Jungkook. He has a Rare Gift; they would be stupid to harm him. The rest of you, though? Common Gifts - although Jessi’s is Uncommon, but certainly not Rare.

You feel lightheaded, likely from the fall and blood loss as it trickles down the back of your neck. It’s thick and wet. The smell of iron floods your nostrils and makes your stomach curl inward. It doesn’t matter, though. Jessi throws your arm around her shoulders and practically drags you through the warehouse. 

Inside is a tornado. Namjoon and Hoseok are scrambling to gather as many supplies as they can. Luckily, many of the essential items are already packed, though Jessi quickly tosses out the radio from the duffle bag she flings over her shoulder. 

“Stupid piece of fucking military bullshit,” she grumbles, giving the item a harsh kick with her steel-toed boots. “Gonna get us all fucking killed.” 

Hoseok lets out a whine. “Please don’t say that.” 

His face is bright pink, and his hands shake while he shoves clothes, random notes, and anything else he can find into his duffle bag. 

“We need to get the fuck out of here,” Jessi growls in response. Her tone has Namjoon and Hoseok picking up the pace. 

Somewhere below you, likely on the first floor, you hear the sound of glass breaking. 

“Fuck,” Namjoon hisses. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him curse before, and in any other situation, you would have giggled. But right now, he looks so grim it makes all the hairs on your arms stand. “They’re inside.” 

The sound of shouting and boots slapping against the concrete floors gets louder the longer the four of you stare at each other. Even Jessi, with her commanding presence, seems to stand frozen in place. The shouting becomes easier to understand as death threats if your group refuses to cooperate and willingly turn yourselves in to the government. 

As if any of you would actually go back to the Labs. At least, not without a fight. 

“If we stand here, we are going to die.” Your voice trembles just barely above a whisper. It’s enough, though. 

Namjoon gives a curt nod and looks around the room you’re in - the room that was once your bedroom. Your little nest of blankets is in the corner, along with Jungkook’s and Jessi’s. The beds have been rifled through, likely by Namjoon and Hoseok collecting the warmest blankest to bring on the trip. 

“The window,” Hoseok finally says with a quiet hiss. The warehouse is relatively large, so it will take some time for the Red Pin agents to figure out which room you’re in. 

The four of you rush to the window and peer out of it. From what you can tell, there aren’t any Red Pin agents below. Even if there are, it would be a smaller number than is currently bulldozing through the warehouse. 

It’s a long drop, though. You’re on the third floor. 

“I’ll ease you down,” Hoseok insists. He props open the window and rests his hip against the wall. “Sit on the edge, with your feet out like that.” His fingers are delicate but firm as he positions Namjoon the way he needs him to be. Sweet Namjoon, willing to put his life in Hoseok’s hands and go first in case something terrible happens. 

Hoseok’s hands shake as he uses his Gift to slow Namjoon’s fall when the other man finally jumps from the window. 

Tears burn the corners of your eyes as you watch Jessi do the same as Namjoon. The two land on the ground roughly but without injury. Hoseok looks exhausted, likely from the pressure of not fucking up and less because of the exertion. 

“Come on,” he urges you as the Red Pin agents’ shouting gets louder. “They’re close.” 

You climb into the window, letting your legs dangle out the other side. Before Hoseok conjures a gentle breeze between his hands, you grab onto his wrist. Something is tugging at your chest; it has been since the moment you saw Hoseok and Jungkook escape from the woods. 

“Hobi,” you hope he hears the plead in your voice. “Where is Yoongi?” 

The way he grimaces shoots anxiety through you so severely that you feel your entire body jolt. 

“He and Jungkook are down there.”

“Down there…”

“Figh-”

Hoseok cuts himself off by letting out a shrill shriek when Jungkook suddenly materializes beside you. He has a deep gash on his cheek, blood pouring from the wound, coating his chin and neck deep red. His hair is matted and stands up on end, and there’s more blood all over his clothes, enough that you can’t tell if the blood is from him or someone else. 

“Get out,” he wheezes. When he grabs Hoseok’s arm, he leaves blotches of blood on his skin. “Hyung’s gonna blow it up.”

“Blow it up?” You hiss, twisting around to stare at Jungkook. 

It’s a mistake. 

His irises are dark and wide, so vast that his eyes are almost entirely black. It gives him a crazed look, like a wild animal backed into a corner with its teeth bared. 

What’s worse, it’s not just his eyes that are black. The veins in his neck are black like dark spiderwebs climbing up his throat and spreading down so far that it reaches the raised veins in the backs of his hands. He looks like he’s possessed, like the darkness of his Gift is consuming him whole. 

“Get out.” 

Before you can argue further, you feel Jungkook’s palm press between your shoulder blades, and suddenly you’re falling out of the window. 

When you open your eyes, you’re on the ground. Your upper body is propped up by Namjoon. His arms are wrapped around your torso, your back pulled against his chest to stabilize you. His chest rapidly raises and falls against you, but you hardly notice this. All you can focus on are the eyes staring back at you. 

“You okay, kid?”

Yoongi looks much like Jungkook. Blood is splattered across his face and staining his clothes. His faded pink hair is plastered to his sweat-drenched skin. He crouches beside you and Namjoon, one hand pressed into the grass to keep himself steady. 

From behind Yoongi, you can hear gunshots and screaming echoing through the warehouse. If Hell had a sound, you were sure it would be this. 

You try to turn to look at the building you’d just jumped from, but Yoongi grabs your chin. 

“Hey,” he lightly squeezes your cheeks. “As long as we’re together, you don’t gotta worry about anything. You remember that?” 

You nod once Yoongi drops his hand from your face. You try not to shiver when the air blows against your now wet skin; try not to think about how your skin is now stained with someone else’s blood. 

“Hyung!” 

Yoongi turns toward the warehouse. Now that he’s distracted, he can’t stop you from peering around him to get a look at the building that you’ve made your home for the past five months. 

What looks like black smoke furls around the building. From how the tendrils move like snakes through busted-out windows, you know it isn’t smoke but shadows. Through an open window, you watch one of the shadows slip around a Red Pin agent’s throat like a noose. It tightens and tightens, squeezing the man so hard his face turns purple and his eyes water. 

Before you can witness more, your view is again obscured by Yoongi. 

“Hyung!” 

Jungkook’s shout sounds more desperate than the first, and you feel your heart constrict at the pained edge of his tone. 

Yoongi must notice the desperation, as well, because he quickly grabs your hand. Fire swirls between his fingers as he presses his palm against yours. 

“Yoongi, please-”

“You need to listen to me.” 

He presses his hand against yours even harder, only letting up when you give in and summon little streams of water to intertwine with his fire. You don’t like how rushed your secret handshake feels.

“I need you to look after Jungkook. The kid’s stubborn as fuck, worse than you.”

“Why are you saying this?” 

Yoongi’s gives you a small smile, lifting his hand to swipe his thumb against your cheek. The blood there mixes with the tears you hadn’t realized you’re shedding. 

“Because it’s what I need you to do.” 

Taking your face in his hands, Yoongi pulls you close to kiss your forehead. You feel Namjoon lift you to your feet when Yoongi lets go. Hoseok had cushioned your fall from the window, but you’re weak from blood loss and the exhaustion that fear can instill in the bones. 

Before you can say anything more, Yoongi sprints toward the warehouse, disappearing through the backdoor and into the darkness that surrounds the building. 

“Namjoon, let me go!” You scream as your friend squeezes his arms around your waist to haul you toward the woods. Jessi and Hoseok wait for you there, hidden within the trees, as the sounds of fighting and death from the warehouse get louder. 

Your friend lets out a low grunt when you dig your heels into the ground, but he’s stronger than you, and the action only deters him for a moment. He lifts you a bit, practically carrying you. 

Namjoon only stops when a flash of bright red light turns the entire industrial park dark for a split second before a deafening crash rings through the air. Even though your feet aren’t on the ground, you can feel the ground shake with the explosion that busts all the windows out of the warehouse. The entire building bursts into flames, turning the walls black. Balls of fire fly out of the broken windows, igniting the grass below. 

You crumble to the ground once Namjoon reaches the woods.

“We have to go,” Hoseok pleads. When you look up at him, his cheeks are streaked with tear tracks, too. 

Turning back to the fiery scene across the field, you watch a dark spot slither from shadow to shadow in the grass until it merges with your own shadow beside you on the ground. You tremble when Jungkook wraps his arms around your shoulders. His body is still crawling with dark veins, and the whites of his eyes are now entirely black. 

“Where is he?”

You glare into Jungkook’s eyes and swallow down the fear they strike in your heart. Like black holes, ready to absorb anything unlucky enough to fall in their path. 

The frown Jungkook wears intensifies. 

“Jungkook. Where. Is. He.” 

Jungkook closes his eyes and shakes his head, jaw clamped shut so tightly you can see the muscles ripple under his skin. When he opens them again, black tears pour from his empty eyes.

It’s like all the air is sucked out of your lungs, like a punch to the throat. You’re breathing in as hard as you can, as fast as you can, but nothing’s staying. Everything is too cold. You can feel the blood crusting on your skin, the throb in the back of your head. Black ash falls from the sky, further obstructing your ability to breathe.

Everything is too much. 

“Get off of me.” 

You try wiggling out from Jungkook’s grasp, but he doesn’t let go. 

“We have to keep moving.” 

“Get the fuck off of me!” 

Jungkook lets you push him away. He leans back on his heels and watches you. Or, you think he is. It’s hard to tell where those black eyes look, but it doesn’t matter. 

“Yoongi,” you moan, sagging forward to dig your fingers into the ground. You rip tufts of grass until all that’s left is dirt. 

With closed fists, you beat into the now bare ground, over and over, until your knuckles split open, and Jungkook has to scoop you into his arms to stop you. Your fingers are raw and bloody, and you don’t feel any of it. Nothing at all. Just numb. Numbness spreads through your body like Jungkook’s black veins spread through his. 

None of this is real. 

“Jungkook,” you sob into the crook of his neck with your arms thrown around his shoulders. He holds you bridal style with one arm wrapped around your torso and the other under your legs. 

“I know.” 

“He’s coming back, right? How will he find us if we keep going?”

Jungkook tightens his hold on you, cradling you against his chest. You assume he’s following the group deeper into the woods, but your eyes are closed, and your face is buried in his neck. He smells like smoke and blood, but you all do now. 

“Jungkook, he’s coming back, right?”

A wet sob cuts through the otherwise quiet woods somewhere in front of you. You think it’s Hoseok, but you can’t tell. 

“This way,” Jessi whispers. 

There’s shuffling, then only the sound of feet crunching dead leaves and snapping twigs. Jungkook jostles you slightly to adjust his grip on you, murmuring gentle apologies every time he does. 

“How are you holding up?” This time it’s Namjoon. He sounds close, like he’s walking in line with Jungkook. 

“I can keep us hidden until we’re deeper in, but then I’ll have to stop,” Jungkook says through gritted teeth, as though he doesn’t want to admit what he must say next. “I’m exhausted.”

“Want me to carry-”

“No.”

Jungkook barks his response with an aggression you’ve never heard from him. He squeezes you, almost protectively close to his chest, as Namjoon assures him everything is fine. It’s hard to focus on the men’s hushed voices when you waver in and out of consciousness. 

Eventually, all you can see when your close your eyes is a flash of bright light, like fire engulfing your brain. 

And then everything goes black.

SHELTER #2

Hoseok’s hands shake as he holds the flint rock in one and the steel knife in the other. Twigs snap beneath his boots as he adjusts his squat. Each fidget draws your attention despite your desire to keep your eyes off the sight of Hoseok struggling. 

After three failed attempts at creating a spark, Jessi quickly snatches the items from Hoseok’s grasp and kneels beside the fire pit. 

“You’re gonna fucking stab yourself,” she grumbles, though she, too, struggles the first few tries. Eventually, the little pile of tinder ignites, filling the circle of rocks you’d gathered with a hot fire whose heat licks at your ankles. 

Namjoon fists your jacket sleeve and drags you backward, nearly toppling you over and making the wet grass stain the butt of your pants a dark green. 

It rained today. You can’t help but wonder if it washed away the blood and soot from the warehouse or if more Red Pin agents will show up and find evidence of what happened there.  

“You’re sitting too close.” 

“I’m cold.” 

“You’re too close, Y/N.” 

You glare at Namjoon, opening your mouth to retort that you’re an adult who can take care of yourself when a sob cuts through the tension between you. 

Hoseok shudders with each heave of his shoulders, nearly folding in on himself, with his elbows on his knees and his palms pressed against his eyes. 

“Hyung,” Namjoon calls out; his voice barely registers over Hoseok’s crying. 

“It makes me think of him.” It’s all Hoseok says, all he needs to say. 

Namjoon and Jessi’s expressions crumple like Hoseok’s body in the dirt. You watch them lock eyes with each other, something silent and private passing between them. You don’t know why, but it pisses you off. It shouldn’t, though. 

Something dark and sick is growing inside you, this angry mass doubling in size every time someone cries for Yoongi. He was your best friend. He found you, saved you, and helped you see that there was more to life. The rest of them don’t get it. Yoongi didn’t mean to them what he meant to you. 

Attempting to hoard grief all to yourself isn’t fair to you or the rest of your group, but you want to do it anyway. You want to be selfish because you feel you deserve the right to hurt the most. The rest of them don’t get it. 

Rather than voice your frustration, you bite your bottom lip and dig your fingers into the dirt, winding up your whole body into a tight fist that’s not quite ready to spring but prepared all the same. If you let yourself loose, you know you’ll say something you shouldn’t – something you know you don’t actually mean and that you’ll regret, if not tomorrow, then ten years from now. Assuming you survive that long. 

For now, survival should be the only thing on your mind. 

The fire sputters slightly. A section of the tinder is wet from the morning’s rain. You hold out your hand, palm facing the sky, and wait. 

Hoseok’s sobs have subsided by the time you’ve drawn the moisture out of the wet wood. It sits in a small pool of water in your palm. A reckless part of you wants to plunge your hand into the fire, but you spread your fingers apart instead. The water falls through your fingers and soaks into the grass. 

The fire’s crackling overpowers the silence that blankets the four of you. Each of you stares deep into its flames, streaks of orange burning in your eyes. You wonder if Jungkook’s invisibility shield (“Optical illusion, guys.”) is strong enough to hide the fire. You’d never thought to ask if he can maintain the shield when he’s not even around. 

Twigs snapping in the distance make you reach for the knife sticking out of the ground beside you. Hoseok doesn’t seem concerned by the sound, but his sense of smell as the air carries it to him may be compromised from all the crying. His nose has been running since your group left the warehouse. 

You haven’t cried since you woke up inside the first abandoned shelter Taehyung mentioned would be on your path to the Commune. Even if you wanted to cry, you wouldn’t be able to. The part of your chest where the sobs should come from just feels empty. 

The rustling in the woods increases until you hear the sound of someone clearing their throat. 

Jungkook emerges from the darkness with a satchel – Yoongi’s satchel – thrown across his chest and a stone bowl in his arms.  

“Rabbit. I skinned them already. I thought you guys might not wanna see…” Jungkook trails off when his bright eyes fall on Hoseok’s tear-stained face. With a quiet sigh, he crouches beside the fire and slides the satchel off, handing it to Namjoon. 

“Fruits,” he mumbles, not looking in Namjoon’s direction once the older man takes the bag from him. Instead, and unsurprisingly, Jungkook’s eyes are on you. 

You look away. There’s too much in those eyes, full of constellations of stories you’re too weak to learn. Bending your knees, you draw your legs against your chest and hug them, returning your gaze to the fire while Jungkook prepares to cook the meat and Namjoon handles the other food. 

Yoongi asked you to look after Jungkook, but it’s he who has taken care of the group. Namjoon seems too busy fussing over Hoseok, and you know you aren’t any help. Jessi is the leader by default now that Yoongi isn’t here to take charge. She’s strong and has kept the group on a tight schedule. You know it’s her way of coping. There’s no time to lose herself in mourning if she charges ahead. Having an end goal gives her purpose. 

If only you knew what yours was. 

SHELTER #3

Your feet sink into the ground with each step you take. The sand feels soft between your toes as you wiggle them, watching the little black grains roll across your skin and make your toes disappear. Your steps halt just before you reach the water’s edge, where bright orange waves lap at the black shore. The shore stretches in both directions, a black stripe for as far as you can see. A ghost of a memory tickles your brain. Jack-o’-lanterns lit by tealight candles, and the smell of cinnamon. 

Suddenly, the orange waves kick up in speed, crashing against the shore more violently. The force causes black sand to spray into the air. You can taste it in your mouth, feel it gritty against your teeth and harsh on your tongue. 

You try to lift your hands to cover your face, but you find that you can’t. They’re trapped to your sides by long vines that wrap around your wrists and dive deep into the sand, rooting you in place. You try to pull out of the vines’ grasp. Thorns dig into your skin so deeply that black blood oozes from the jagged puncture wounds the thorns leave behind. 

“Don’t struggle.” 

The voice brings stillness to the whirlwind of sand and the crash of waves. 

You already know who it is, but your body still feels surprised when Yoongi takes slow steps toward you from the other end of the shore. He’s dressed in a flowy white shirt and loose white pants. When you look down, you realize you’re matching. 

“What do I do?” 

Yoongi ignores your question. His fingers run along your forearm, his index finger dipping into one of the holes in your wrist, still dripping black blood. It doesn’t hurt, even though you know it should. 

Dark cat eyes examine the black that stains his fingers. After another silent minute, Yoongi wipes your blood on the front of his shirt. You don’t know why you’re worried that he’ll ruin it. 

“Jungkookie is here.” 

“What?” 

Yoongi walks toward the orange ocean. You scramble to keep up, but the sand grabs your ankles and pulls you back every time you step forward. 

“Yoongi! Wait for me!” 

“You don’t need me anymore. This is a good thing.” 

Your friend nods his head before stepping into the water. The moment his foot touches the orange waves, the entire ocean bursts into flames. 

“Yoongi!” You shriek, running as fast as possible, but the sand won’t let you go. It sucks you down until you’re up to your knees in the soft grains trapped in the hold of the shore. Your brain knows it’s hopeless, but your body keeps struggling even though Yoongi told you not to. 

Suddenly, you feel rough hands grab your arms, and you’re being pulled into the sand, the grains filling your mouth and nose until your lungs are full and you can’t breathe.

“Hey, hey, shhh, it’s okay.” 

Fingers trail along your hairline, dragging down the length of your face and tracing your jaw. Rather than cold sand, you feel something solid and warm wrap around your body. 

“Breathe. In and out, okay? Inhale… exhale… I got you. It’s okay. I got you.” 

As your body returns to you, you realize your face is pressed against smooth skin. You can taste salt on your lips, but no sand. When you blink, your eyelids feel heavy and wet. 

You’re crying. Sobbing, actually. 

“I miss him, too. So fucking much.” 

Jungkook is crying, too. His voice remains steady, though. He’s always so steady now. The shy, fumbling boy of the warehouse is no more. In the time since the Red Pin attack, Jungkook changed. You all did, but he seems to have changed the most. His eyes still hold the stars, but the darkness seems… deeper now. His aura has lost its boyishness. 

The abandoned building where your group has taken refuge is dark, only lit by the moonlight filtering through the slotted windows. You think it may have once been a cabin for a couple or small family. 

Jungkook cradles you in his lap. The two of you are wrapped in thick blankets, cocooned away from the world. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

Jessi is asleep in the corner of the room, while Namjoon and Hoseok have made their beds in the room across the hall. You’re all accustomed to loud noises at night. Nearly all of you have suffered from night terrors at some point. 

“It’s okay. You’ve had to listen to me cry in my sleep, too,” Jungkook points out with a small smile. 

It’s a breathtaking smile. Jungkook’s cheeks shine with fresh tears, but his bunny teeth poke out, and his eyes crease with the sincerity in that smile. It warms the empty parts of your chest – like hot tea poured into a cool mug. Perhaps the odd feeling in your stomach is similar to the bubble of water boiling. 

“You’re cute when you cry. I’m an ugly crier,” you sniff. It’s stupid to say, but you don’t want to think about how sad you all are. 

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am. All the boogers and the dumb faces I make.” 

Jungkook shakes his head. His hair is getting long again. 

“I think you’re beautiful.” 

“Don’t lie,” you try to joke, but your voice comes out small and unsure rather than teasing. 

“I would never lie to you.” 

As if to seal the promise, Jungkook presses his lips against your forehead in a kiss. Your fingers ache from how tightly you squeeze the fabric of his shirt into your fists. 

Every day you trudge through the woods in search of the Commune, and every day you live in fear of the Red Pins finding you once again. But being in Jungkook’s lap, face nuzzling the crook of his neck, his strong arms holding you against his chest… It’s the only time you genuinely feel safe. 

SHELTER #4

“When was the last time,” Jungkook pauses to pull his shirt over his head, “you took a bath?” 

Your eyes roam the expanse of his broad chest, the dips and valleys of his abdomen, and the sparse dark hairs disappearing into the waistband of his pants. You’ve seen Jungkook shirtless before. It’s a treat every time, although you feel a twinge of guilt from looking now. Running along his ribcage is an extended cut, red with scabs. Jessi did her best to stitch Jungkook up with whatever she had in the supplies Namjoon and Hoseok snatched before you fled the warehouse. It’s a pretty nasty wound, but it seems to be healing well. Part of you wonders if exposing it to lake water is a good idea, but you keep the thought to yourself. Jungkook is tired of everyone babying him. He hasn’t told you as much, but you can tell.    

“I’m too ashamed to answer that question.” 

“You and me both,” Jungkook snorts. 

He removes the harness strapped around his thigh, taking the large knife off along with it. After the Red Pin attack, you now know how pointless it is to carry any weapon other than a gun. However, none of you have guns, though you still believe your Gifts are better than any human-made weaponry. 

“Too bad we don’t have, like, soap and shit,” you grumble, stomping a cluster of wild mushrooms growing along the bank of the lake you’d found. 

Jungkook’s tattooed fingers play with his belt buckle while his big, brown eyes flit up to meet yours. 

“Sorry!” You rush to apologize and turn your back to him. Heat creeps up your neck, spreading across your cheeks and biting at your ears’ tips. 

Your discomfort worsens when you hear a quiet chuckle rumble from Jungkook. There’s the rustle of clothes and, soon after, a light splash that tells you he has eased himself into the lake. 

“You’re good.” 

When you turn around, Jungkook isn’t facing you. He dips his head back to wet his hair, running his fingers through it a few times before righting himself again, still facing away from you. The water reaches his lower back when he’s standing, but you can tell he is crouching slightly because the gentle waves lap higher up on his back. It’s not dirty water since the lake has a fresh stream feeding it, which ensures that the water isn’t stagnant, but it’s murky enough from the plants growing at the bottom that you can’t make out the rest of Jungkook’s body. Not that you want to, considering he’s naked. 

Thankful for the privacy, you quickly strip out of your clothes and step into the water. You keep a respectful distance between you, choosing not to drift too far into deeper water. You much prefer to at least touch the sandy bottom with your tiptoes. 

Slipping deep enough that only your head remains above water, you watch Jungkook as he uses an old rag to scrub his arms. You’re both disgustingly grimy. 

“Lucky we found this place,” you think aloud as you begin to work on scrubbing down yourself, as well. 

“We are.” 

“Jungkook. You can look now.” 

His head snaps up, gaze locking with yours for a split second before he averts his eyes again. You’re close enough to see pink bloom across his face. 

You clear your throat to fill the silence when he says nothing. Part of you thought it might spur him to talk, but the tension between you remains. 

You’re not sure when it first developed. Part of you knows it has always been there, perhaps dormant or less noticeable. Much of it falls back on Jungkook’s behavior, you think as you watch him slide the rag down his chest. The tension has always lived in the dark expanse of his eyes and how he searches for you, always you, maybe without even realizing it himself. It’s gotten worse since you’ve started waking up every morning wrapped in his arms and nuzzling his neck. 

“What’s the first thing you want to do when we get to the Commune?” Jungkook finally speaks. When he does, you force yourself to drop your gaze, focusing intently on continuing to wash yourself to the best of your ability with the lack of soap.

“Eat food that isn’t rabbit, hopefully.” 

“Hey!” 

A giant splash of water hits you in the face. You gasp, rushing to wipe away the droplets clinging to your eyelashes. 

“F–fuck you!” You sputter. 

“It’s not my fault rabbits are the easiest things to catch around here. I’m doing my best!” 

Another splash slaps into you. It isn’t hard enough to sting, but it’s a splash all the same. 

“You’re real dumb if you think you can start a splashing war with someone who has a water Gift,” you challenge. 

“I’m not scared of you,” Jungkook sticks out his tongue after he challenges you. 

All it takes is a flick of your wrist and a wave higher than most nearby trees descend on Jungkook. It doesn’t ever reach him, though. The sheer panic that contorts his face is enough to warm your body with evil satisfaction. You gently let the wave descend into the lake, barely kicking up enough to splash Jungkook against the chest. 

“I showed you mercy. You’re welcome, young man.” 

Jungkook lets out a loud snort, eyes rolling into the back of his head in defiance. “You’re insane.” 

“You provoke me.” 

You don’t like how high his eyebrows arch, unable to decipher what an expression like that is supposed to mean. 

“I provoke you? In what way?” 

You narrow your eyes at him. “You literally did it just now.” 

Jungkook straightens up a little. The action makes more of his torso rise from the water. You can’t help but drop your eyes to the water level that has fallen so dangerously low on his hips. 

When your gaze finally returns to his face, Jungkook is wearing an exaggerated pout. 

“I’m innocent.” 

“Pfft,” you scoff. 

By this point, your fingers are starting to get wrinkly, and the position you’re standing in to ensure your whole body is covered in the water is becoming uncomfortable. You’re just about to tell Jungkook that you’re done playing games – that the two of you need to hurry up before the rest of your group gets worried about you being gone for too long – when the man disappears. 

“Oh my god, Jungkook-ah, why?” 

Your eyes dart around the lake, eyeing each shadow suspiciously. You don’t think you see Jungkook’s actual body underwater, so all you can guess is that he’s doing his creepy crawly shadow-walking just to bother you. 

“This is doing the exact opposite of proving that you’re innoce–” You interrupt yourself with a loud gasp when you feel fingers squeeze your bare hips. 

“Boo,” Jungkook deadpans, but his face quickly cracks into a smile. 

You want to laugh at yourself for being so easily startled, to match Jungkook’s joyfulness, but all you can focus on is the feeling of his fingertips pressing into your skin. 

“Jungkook…” 

“Hm?” 

He’s absentminded as his gaze drops down to stare at your lips. You automatically lick them, almost on instinct, unable to stop yourself. Jungkook follows your lead, though he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth instead of settling his face. If that action didn’t already make your stomach twist into a knot, the darkness of Jungkook’s gaze does. 

“I…” Jungkook rubs slow circles into your hips with his thumbs, following the curve of your hip bone and effectively interrupting your thoughts. 

You don’t know who leans in first, but it doesn’t really matter. The moment Jungkook’s lips connect with yours, it’s as though your brain completely empties. 

It’s a hesitant kiss, just a light press of Jungkook’s closed mouth against yours. He grows bolder when you don’t pull away, parting his lips slightly. He nibbles at your bottom lip, prompting you to part yours as well, allowing him to slot your lips together. 

You bring your hands up to squeeze Jungkook’s biceps, coaxing a slight whine from him when your nails lightly dig into his skin. The sound is gentle but needy, making your skin prickle with goosebumps. You’ve never heard Jungkook sound like that, never heard anyone sound like that. 

You’ve never even kissed anyone before. 

It’s not what you expected, though you haven’t spent much time thinking about physical intimacy. Being trapped in the Labs, it never seemed like something you’d have the privilege of exploring. Once you escaped, there was only one person you ever thought about being intimate with – and even then, it was far more wholesome than this, you now realize. This… is different. 

Jungkook trembles, and you feel his hands flex against your hips as he tilts his head to the side, deepening the kiss. 

A few times, the two of you fumble, noses bumping into each other and teeth nipping a bit too hard. It makes you wonder if this is Jungkook’s first kiss, too. You decide it doesn’t matter if it is. It’s warm and soft, and Jungkook tastes sweet, like the berries Hoseok picked earlier today. You’re dizzy; Jungkook stealing the air from your lungs. Your body screams for you to pull away, but you cling to him tighter.  

Something firm brushing against your inner thigh brings you back to reality. You nearly jump out of Jungkook’s grasp, chest heaving and fingers trembling beneath the water. 

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook hurries to speak before you do. 

Before you can say anything in return – though you’re not sure what you want to say – Jungkook is gone. All that’s left are his clothes still neatly folded on the grass beside the lake and a thrum of excitement beating through your body to the tune of guilt and shame. 

Kissing Jungkook felt good. And that is why it can never happen again.  

SHELTER #5

If you ever told Jessi that you see her as a mother figure, she would probably kill you. You consider this as she wields a machete, hacking away at the brush that blocks your path as you continue toward the Commune. The muscles in her bicep and shoulders flex with each swing. It’s sexy and terrifying, and you can only admire her strength when the rest of your group is floundering. 

The guys trail behind, practically dragging their feet. It’s Jungkook’s fault (and maybe yours, but you won’t think about that). 

Ever since the kiss, Jungkook has avoided you. You haven’t interacted with each other in days, aside from the cuddles you share at night when nightmares overtake you. 

Hoseok and Namjoon have also noticed the shift in his behavior, though they believe it’s grief causing him to distance himself from the group. They hang back, letting you and Jessi march forward, so they can talk and do whatever boys do to cheer each other up when the world is falling apart. 

You try not to think about it too much, but Jessi and her motherly instincts don’t let you know peace. 

“Yoongi wouldn’t want us to be so fucking sad all the time.” Jessi lets out a grunt as she hacks at a particularly thick tree branch blocking your path. “If he was here right now, he’d kick all of our asses with a quickness.” 

She’s right; it goes without saying. 

Letting her arm fall to her side, Jessi uses her free hand to wipe away the sweat that collects on her forehead and drips down the side of her face. She looks at you like she’s waiting for you to do something. The expression makes you feel uneasy. 

“What?”

“Did you even hear the shit I was saying?”

“Yes.” 

“Okay then, what’re you gonna do about it?”

You scrunch your eyebrows together. “About what?” 

Jessi lets out a frustrated huff and again brings the machete down on the tree branch. It splinters and breaks, providing enough weakness for Jessi to stomp down on it with a steel-toed boot. 

“Did you and Jungkook fuck?” 

“What?!” 

When you gasp, you’re sure you inhale a bug, sucking it right down your throat and probably into your fucking lungs for all you know. It sparks a terrible coughing fit that makes Jessi pause to slap you between the shoulder blades a few times. 

“Why–” you heave, tears in your eyes, “why would you think that?” 

Jessi pushes forward through the forest brush with a roll of her eyes. 

“It’s obvious there’s something going on. The poor boy’s moping around after you like a lovesick puppy. Even worse than usual.” 

If you weren’t already sweating your ass off, you would be heating up from Jessi’s astute observations. 

“I don’t know what you're–” 

“Aish, fucking save it, babe,” Jessi interrupts you with a wave of the hand that isn’t holding the machete. “All I’m trying to say is that it’s okay to feel good. Life is fucked as it is. Stop ruining good things for yourself and live as best as you can in the circumstances we got, alright?” 

She gives you a stern look from the side, a look that you quickly try to avoid by ducking your head down. Suddenly, the ground is fascinating. 

“I’m fine.” 

“Right, and I don’t have a fat ass.” 

“Really!” You insist. The desperation in your voice is pathetic and telling. 

“Yoongi would want you to live, hun. I know he would. And you wanna know how I know?”

There isn’t a need to say anything; once Jessi has her mind set on something, she sees it through until the end. 

“There wasn’t a fox in the woods. It was a Red Pin scout.” She gives you a pointed look. “But ignorance is bliss, and he wanted you to be happy. He wanted you to live without more fear, so he didn’t tell you. So do whatever you need to do to fix things with Jungkook and be fucking happy.” 

You fall behind as Jessi speeds up, the path much clearer now than it had been just a few feet before. The guys are still meandering further back, so you fall somewhere in the middle, close enough to see everyone at either end but far enough that you can be alone with your thoughts without interruption. 

Jessi is right, but it feels wrong to let yourself feel good. How can you be happy when Yoongi isn’t here? There is a bit of survivor’s guilt clutching at your heart, but most of your struggle is from the pain of simply not having Yoongi around. Being happy feels like it would be a betrayal of some kind. 

Yoongi would disagree. He would give you that gummy smile and poke you in the ribs until you cry, and then he would tell you that you’re being an idiot. 

With a sigh, you break into a light jog to catch up with Jessi, Yoongi’s voice echoing for the millionth time in your head. 

You and Jungkook.

COMFORT

You are ashamed to admit that you take longer to apologize to Jungkook than Yoongi took to apologize you to. 

In fact, you never apologize to Jungkook before your group makes it to the Commune. It never seemed like the right opportunity came. There was always someone else around, or Jungkook looked exceptionally sad, or you told yourself you would say something once he woke up but got caught up watching how beautiful he looks when he sleeps cuddled against you every night. 

It’s always tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. The thing about tomorrow is that it always comes until it doesn’t. 

And then suddenly, you’re all stumbling into a clearing in the woods that leads to what looks like a hole in the trees, and there is magic dancing in your bones that pulls your thoughts away from anything but the man who stands to greet you.

Kim Taehyung is not what you expected from the leader of a notorious Gifted runaway commune that has evaded the authorities for years. Admittedly, you had few expectations – too busy worrying about surviving the trek to think about what the man would look like when he finally greeted you. Still, it’s a lot to process. 

“Welcome, my little Gifts!” 

The lithe man stretches his long arms out as wide as his wingspan will let him. Your group exchanges looks when Taehyung doesn’t move, his eyebrows arched as he waits. 

The six of you stand at the Commune entrance, marked by two trees manipulated into forming a magical-looking arch. Large flower bushes and more trees flank the arch, hiding whatever may lie within the Commune. Try as you might, as you peer over Jessi’s shoulder, you can’t see through the thicket. 

Taehyung lets out a quiet sigh, but his arms don’t seem to tire. He wiggles his fingers as though he’s beckoning you into his arms. The movements, although small, make the numerous gold bracelets that line his wrists clink together like wind chimes. He wears loose slacks and an oversized white silk shirt. A knitted shawl with intricate patterns stitched into it in earth tones hangs over his broad shoulders. The tassels sway in the wind. You don’t know how, but he smells like summer. 

“Do you not seek comfort?”

A loud whimper erupts from the middle of your huddle, and suddenly Jungkook pushes past Jessi and Namjoon. He stumbles the few steps it takes to reach Taehyung. 

“Jungkook-ah,” Jessi whisper-yells, but it’s too late. Jungkook has his face buried in Taehyung’s chest, a sob tearing through his body. 

“Shhh, my little Gift, you are home.” 

Taehyung keeps his eyebrows arched, giving the rest of your group a pointed look. It takes hardly a second before Hoseok follows Jungkook, launching himself into Taehyung’s embrace with such power you’re shocked the Commune leader manages to stay upright. Hoseok’s cries harmonize with Jungkook’s until Namjoon eventually joins. 

Never one to open up about sadness, Jessi stares down the Commune leader with a challenging look that would make the bravest soldiers shit themselves – and yet Taehyung merely smiles the strangest, most charming smile you’ve ever seen. 

Before you know it, you’re standing alone because Jessi has a singular tear sliding down her round cheek, and Taehyung has one arm curling her against his chest, too. 

Comfort. 

It’s funny, isn’t it? Funny that we want it, crave it, even from a complete stranger. Comfort provides no solution to our problems and is even sometimes used to avoid problems altogether. You have known little comfort since Jungkook carried you away from the warehouse.  

Okay then, what’re you gonna do about it?

You meet Jessi’s gaze, and the realization hits you that this is the first time you’ve seen her cry. 

“Be happy, Y/N.” If Jessi speaks out loud, you can’t hear her but can read her mouth clearly. 

It’s like something shatters in your chest. It’s shocking; you were convinced nothing was left inside to break. But when Taehyung finally lowers both arms to wrap them around your group – yourself included – no pain or sadness plagues your heart. You feel strangely at peace. Taehyung’s summer scent envelopes you. It’s freshly-cut grass, sea salt, and cherry blossoms. Warmth spreads from the man, what you imagine it feels like to be a plant absorbing nutrients from the sun. 

“Thank you for trusting me,” Taehyung speaks softly. “This is my Gift, and it makes my heart happy to share it with you today.” 

You remember that Taehyung is a healer Gifted when he gently extricates himself from what became a group hug that lasted for eternity. 

“Are we feeling better now?” 

You all find yourselves nodding. Taehyung beams at that. He claps his hands together, startling Hoseok into a small giggle. 

“Wonderful!” Taehyung turns on his heel, his shawl billowing out behind him as he swiftly crosses the archway. “Now, come with me. We have many things to take care of!” 

Your group hurries to keep up with the man who’s all legs. Beyond the arch, the Commune is more like a small village than whatever tent city you’d expected. Little houses similar to the abandoned ones your group found refuge in on the way here line the dirt paths – except these are full of life. Odd markings are painted on the brick and concrete buildings, all in the bright colors of summer: sunny yellows, healthy greens, and vibrant pinks. 

You notice that in the doorway of every building is a small basket, sometimes more than one, resting on the ground. Some are full of items you can’t quite make out because Taehyung is walking so quickly that you don’t have time to peek into any of them. 

“I can’t quite remember how many there are of us,” Taehyung says over his shoulder as he leads you down a road lined with shops. There’s clothing, produce, and other wares for sale. You feel embarrassed by how your mouth waters simply from seeing an apple. “I would say at least three hundred, but Seokjin hyung would know better. He’s the brains of all this. I’m merely the handsome face of the operation.” 

“Yah, I heard that, Kim Taehyung!” 

“Oh, so you heard me singing your praises, hyung?” 

Taehyung leads you to what you guess is the center of the Commune by the way the buildings form a half circle around a grassy quad. In the middle of the quad, there is a large pile of tinder – tree branches, dead grass and hay, planks of wood, and other items stacked on top of each other to build what will most likely be a giant bonfire from the looks of it. 

The man known as Seokjin approaches your group just to shove Taehyung’s shoulder with his own. “I am both the brains and the beauty, thank you very much. You can be second-best.” 

“You’re demoting me? In front of our new friends?” Taehyung pouts. 

Seokjin twists his broad torso to get a good look at your ragtag team of misfits. Facing this new man’s beauty head-on, you are quickly reminded of how disgusting you all probably look and smell, having fought through the woods for weeks without even a proper bath. 

Even though you all look like hell, Seokjin beams just as Taehyung had. 

“Oh good, you didn’t run away!” 

You feel Jessi tense beside you. “Why the fuck would we run away?” 

“Taehyung is insufferable, that’s why.” 

“Hey!” The leader shoves his friend much harder than his friend had shoved him. “You’re so grumpy. Do you need a hug?” 

Seokjin swats at Taehyung. “Don’t you have things to do? Summer is here soon. Go make daisy chains or something. Jimin and I will take care of our new friends.”

“Daisy chains?” You blurt out in question as Taehyung wiggles his fingers at your group in a goodbye. In the blink of an eye, he’s gone, disappearing into the crowds of people going about their day in the Commune. You’ve never seen so many Gifteds, free and all together, in your life.  

Seokjin hums, beckoning your group to follow him deeper into the Commune. 

“In a few days, it will be the First of Summer. I assume you all have never celebrated Summer?” 

You find it odd that Seokjin speaks of the season as though it’s a holiday. When no one responds, he lets out a long sigh. 

“You’ve missed out on so much, trapped like lab rats.” He spits the end of his sentence. It’s in anger at the research facilities rather than a judgment of you, but it makes your heart sting just the same. You wish Taehyung was here. 

Leading you to a three-story building that looks similar to a warehouse or an office building, with plain concrete walls decorated with more colorful markings, Seokjin pauses to let your group enter the front door first. 

“This is my home,” Seokjin welcomes your group. “My husband and I sleep on the first floor, but there are a few empty guest rooms on the second and third. Newcomers tend to stay with us until we’ve built them their own homes.” 

“That’s so generous of you, Seokjin,” Hoseok speaks up for the first time. The crackle in his voice tells you he’s still on the verge of tears, but he smiles when you turn to look at him. 

“Please, call me hyung if you’d like.” Seokjin smiles. 

Taehyung and Seokjin’s use of honorifics warms your heart, even though you don’t have the same emotional attachment to the custom as the others. When you look out of the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook smile at the honorific, too. 

“We’ll get your rooms situated, but first, are you hungry?” 

“Fuck yes,” Jessi groans.

The group and Seokjin laugh when you ask, “Do you have anything besides rabbit?” 

In the kitchen, your group meets Seokjin’s husband, Jimin, a fire Gifted. When Jimin pulls you into a tight hug, tears prickle in the corners of your eyes because his body burns, and he smells faintly of smoke, just like Yoongi. 

While chomping away at fresh vegetables and meat that isn’t rabbit, you learn that Seokjin is the legendary cosmic Gifted you only half-heartedly believed to be real. His ability to bend time and space wipes the Commune off the radar, ensuring the Red Pins never find it. Despite his large personality, he seems too shy to demonstrate his Gift, even as Jimin pesters him. 

They’re cute, Seokjin and Jimin. They fuss over your group as though they are your parents, making sure that you each get a turn taking a shower and that you have enough blankets and pillows in your bedrooms. Hoseok, Namjoon, and Jungkook share one, while you and Jessi share another. Jimin apologizes profusely about not being able to provide you with your own bedrooms, which you all dismiss. 

“We anticipate a few additional newcomers soon; I’m so sorry we don’t have enough room to spread out,” Jimin bemoans as he plays with his fingers. 

“Are you kidding?” Namjoon teases with a smile that crinkles his eyes. “We’ve been living in an abandoned warehouse for months.” 

“Sleeping on the floor gave me fucking arthritis, and I’m barely thirty,” Jessi chimes in.

“That’s not how that works.” 

“Fuck off, Jungkook-ah. Tell that to my broken back.” 

Jimin looks appalled by your previous living situation, making your group joke around more. Laugh through the pain, right? It’s a coping mechanism you’ve all done a decent job of perfecting. Sometimes being alive is enough to laugh about because, well, at least you’re alive. 

After a whirlwind of a day getting settled into Seokjin and Jimin’s home, you can finally ease your bones into a real bed with a thick, fluffy mattress and clean sheets. Your tummy is full of delicious food, your body clean and well-moisturized thanks to Jimin’s homemade skincare products, and you finally allow yourself to sink into the one thing you’ve been scared to find: comfort. 

Just before sleep overtakes you, you hear a quiet, almost timid, knock at the door. You wrack your brain, thinking about who it could be and why they need you. It feels like too much effort to get out of bed when you’ve only just been able to relax, so you call out to the person on the other side of the door. 

“Hi.” 

Jungkook’s wide eyes peer at you through the dark, a sliver of moonlight peeking through the window blinds highlighting parts of his face. 

“Hi,” you say, pausing to quietly clear your throat. “What’s up?”

“Can’t sleep.”

Your heart feels like it will fly out of your chest when Jungkook hesitantly steps into your bedroom. You watch him eye Jessi’s sleeping form in the bed on the opposite side of the room, perhaps weighing the pros and cons of being in the room if she wakes up. 

Apparently accepting the risk, Jungkook scurries over to stand beside your bed. 

“Can I sleep with you?” 

It’s the most Jungkook has spoken to you since he fled the lake. His request shouldn’t make your stomach flip with nerves; you’ve cuddled together every night since your first nightmare about Yoongi. So it should be easy when you respond, 

“Of course.” 

You quickly scoot over to give Jungkook room when he slips beneath the sheets. 

“Thank you,” he whispers into the dark. 

Holding out your arms, you encourage Jungkook to curl against your side, a position you usually take, but something tells you that Jungkook needs this more than you do. Part of your assumption is due to the timid, gentle boy who entered your bedroom – a different person than the one you watched murder multiple Red Pins at the warehouse with frightening ease. 

He’s still the same, though, deep down, a lonely boy with nothing to his name, just like the rest of you. 

Jungkook stays quiet while you run your fingers through his hair. You’re reminded of the promise you were supposed to make to Yoongi, the one about taking care of Jungkook. It’s time for you to finally fulfill that promise, and you already know what the first step should be. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize softly. “I don’t like not talking to you.” 

And it hurts more than you realize. Saying it out loud makes it real, this scary uncertainty in your relationship that you’ve never experienced before. Jungkook has always been there – a steady comfort to fall back on, soft eyes to search for in moments tainted with fear and grief. Not having Jungkook in your life… It’s unfathomable. 

“I’m sorry, too,” Jungkook whispers into the crook of your neck.

You’re not sure what he’s sorry for, though you remind yourself that a relationship is a two-way street. The two of you should have talked rather than dance around each other. Even now, you’re not really talking. You want to bring it up – the kiss. What it means for him. What it means for you. Why it happened in the first place. If it’s… okay, okay to like how soft Jungkook’s lips had felt on yours and how sweet he’d tasted. Okay to feel an unfamiliar heat spread throughout your body, starting at his fingers gripping your waist. 

“I’m sorry I did it without asking first,” Jungkook elaborates after a few minutes of silence. 

Even though he doesn’t say what it is, you don’t need him to spell it out before you reply, “It’s okay.” 

“It’s not, though.” 

You shiver when Jungkook’s lips brush against your neck as he talks. His breath is cold, even though his body is warm. You wonder if it’s the darkness inside of him seeping out when he breathes. 

“I swear, it is. I forgive you. We both kinda went for it, right?” You say with an awkward laugh. 

“I’m not sorry about doing it.” Jungkook squeezes you tighter, but you’re already holding your breath. “I’d do it again.” 

His confession is whispered so quietly you likely wouldn’t have heard him if it weren’t for the fact that his lips brush your neck just below your ear. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” 

Jungkook’s lips travel higher. You close your eyes and let out a shuddered breath when his lips brush against your earlobe. 

It’s getting harder to relax, your body completely rigid and your breathing on the verge of frantic as Jungkook drags his nose down the length of your neck. The touch sends tingling sensations across your body. A strange feeling, like your stomach is flipping around inside of you, consumes you. His nose on your skin tickles, but it’s somehow more than just a tickle. It feels… good. Makes your stomach tense and heat spread, chasing after the goosebumps. 

“Goodnight,” Jungkook finally whispers into the crook of your neck. 

It takes you a long time to fall asleep.

THE EVE 

Apparently, the First of Summer is something to celebrate at the Commune. It seems as though everyone has a task to complete on the Eve of the holiday to get all the preparations in order, even you and your misfit crew. 

“Our Gifts are at their strongest during the Summer; haven’t you noticed?” 

Jimin flutters around like a hummingbird, gracefully darting between about a dozen small baskets lined up in the grass beside his home. The fire Gifted places a variety of items in the baskets: flower bouquets, fruits and vegetables wrapped in protective cloths, and other little trinkets and handmade presents. 

“Is that so?” Namjoon perks up from where he’d been watching a line of ants march into a small anthill. He sits in the grass next to you and Jessi while Jungkook and Hoseok stand closer to where Jimin flits around. 

“Mhm. We are more in tune with the Seasons compared to humans.” 

Jessi scoffs, “We are humans.” 

Cradling a bouquet of tiger lilies in one hand, Jimin puts his other hand on his hip. It’s supposed to be sassy and, perhaps, stern, but he just comes off as adorable in your eyes. 

“We are not humans.” 

“Then what are we?” 

With a huff, Jimin gently places the flowers in a basket that’s nearly full. 

“We are Gifts from Nature. Don’t you feel it? The Earth flows through our veins, Jessi. She broke pieces off herself to gift to us; pieces of the Universe exist inside of us. Humans don’t have that.”

There mustn’t be a good comeback for such lofty talk because Jessi remains quiet after Jimin finishes speaking. You don’t blame her; the perspective Jimin offers isn’t one you’ve ever heard of before. Everyone talks about Gifteds as mutants, genetic abominations. It’s scientific and clinical, although no scientist has figured out how or why Gifteds exist. 

Jimin’s perspective sounds like… magic. You decide that you quite like the idea that some omnipresent entity chose to give up parts of herself to make you special, a lot more than believing you’re an unnatural freak. 

“What are these for?” Hoseok asks, bending at the waist to peer into one of the baskets. 

“They’re gifts,” Jimin says with a little giggle, likely at the tease around the word he uses. “It’s customary to give gifts on the First of Summer. You’re supposed to leave them on your neighbors’ doorsteps, though you could directly gift them during the Bonfire.” 

Brushing his hands onto his pants, Jimin straightens up and looks around at your group. In the few days you’ve known Jimin, you’ve noticed that his lips poke out when he’s thinking. It reminds you of a little beak on a baby bird. You’ve told Jungkook as much, and he agrees. 

Your eyes fall on Jungkook, hoping he’ll look your way. It doesn’t take long for him to tilt his head to the side and meet your gaze. Sometimes you wonder if Jungkook can sense you somehow. You don’t understand how his Gift works, but it seems mysterious enough to be capable of anything at this point. How else would he somehow know when you’re looking in his direction every time? 

With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you subtly pucker your lips. 

Jungkook catches on quickly. His eyebrows shoot up, and a small smirk etches itself into his features. He pinches his lips into a pucker, too, and wiggles his eyebrows at you. 

You have to press your lips together to stop yourself from laughing. 

“Jungkook?” 

The younger man quickly straightens his posture and schools his face when Jimin calls out to him. 

“Yes, hyung?” 

“Want to help me finish up with some decorations? Jessi, too?” 

Jungkook nods hard enough that you worry he might give himself a headache. 

As Jessi pushes herself off the ground, Jimin turns to you, Namjoon, and Hoseok. 

“How about you all help Seokjin down at the quad with the Bonfire? He’s working on setting up the tables and food stalls for the Morning of Summer. We gather to have a breakfast feast and celebrate the first Morning together.” 

Hoseok beams at the idea, turning to you with his hands held out. You squeeze them and let him help haul you onto your feet. 

“It sounds so nice,” Hoseok chirps with excitement as the three of you make your way through the winding dirt road toward the quad, past rows of unique homes and community gardens scattered across what is essentially a makeshift neighborhood. 

“Having a community… I feel like I don’t know how to enjoy it,” Namjoon says softly. 

“What do you mean?” It seems odd to you; haven’t they all wanted something like this?

“I don’t remember how to be social. I was, I think, at some point. Before the Labs. And, of course, I feel comfortable with you all. But…” 

“Being around strangers is hard,” you offer. 

Namjoon nods in agreement. He isn’t sad, though, like you’d assumed he’d be. Namjoon wears a smile as Hoseok wraps his arms around his waist. 

“The good thing is we have all the time in the world to figure ourselves out, now. We get to be whatever we want to be, and exist however we want to exist. No more running, no more hiding, no more fighting,” Hoseok says with a grin, and it’s impossible to not believe him. 

The air Gifted nuzzles his face into Namjoon’s neck, and you swear there is light pink that mixes with the honey of Namjoon’s cheeks. 

Hoseok’s display of affection reminds you of your nights with Jungkook. They’ve become more frequent; nearly every night, he slips into your bed to cuddle with his lips dragging along your neck, just lightly enough to seem innocent but still present enough to make your body burn with an unfamiliar heat.  

You haven’t done anything more than cuddle, and you’re having a hard time telling yourself that you’re okay with that. 

Seokjin doesn’t give you time to ponder what you think is your budding love life. He gives you, Hoseok, and Namjoon a variety of tasks to complete throughout the day, from painting what you learn are ancient runes on the sides of buildings to helping the farmers harvest their produce to bring to the food stalls. Manual labor doesn’t bother the three of you; for months, you’ve all lived in a world where you work hard to survive, hunting and building your shelters. This work is easy in comparison and much more entertaining. 

At some point, Taehyung strolls through the busy quad to check on the outdoor dining space coming to fruition a safe distance from the large bonfire. He plops down on the bench at one of the tables, elbow on the table and chin resting in his hand as he watches you, Hoseok, and Namjoon take a break to munch on some snacks one of the farmers had given you. 

“Having fun, little Gifts?” 

Taehyung’s eyes sparkle in the late afternoon sun, and you can’t help but melt into the comfort that radiates from him. 

“I could stay here forever,” Hoseok mumbles around a large bite of an apple. 

“Oh?” The twinkling of Taehyung’s eyes morphs from adoration to teasing amusement. “I thought that was already the plan.” 

Hoseok nods, giving the leader a sheepish look. 

“That would be dope, yeah.”

“Then it is done.” 

The exchange makes you and Namjoon giggle, though the sweet sounds quickly die out when familiar figures jog down the dirt path toward where you sit. 

Jimin is beaming, his entire aura nearly glowing, though you know part of that is due to his Gift. Your gut twists from the memory of Yoongi, but the pain doesn’t cut as deeply as it used to. At first, you thought the lessening of the pain meant you were forgetting him or no longer caring about him, and you felt even more grief from that. But a late-night heart-to-heart with Hoseok taught you that this isn’t apathy; it’s healing. 

So you acknowledge the little prick of pain that sits in your chest but choose to use the memory of Yoongi to fuel your new love for Jimin, who you know Yoongi would have loved, too. 

“Jiminie!” Taehyung calls from his seat at the table. He holds his arms open, eagerly pulling the other man into a spine-crushing hug. 

The call of your own name draws your attention away from the men. You turn to see Jessi flashing you an uncharacteristically large grin. It makes you extremely suspicious. 

“What do you want?” You question her with narrowed eyes. 

“Oh, nothing. Jungkook wants something, though,” she says in a sing-songy voice before skipping - literally skipping - away to talk to Hoseok and Namjoon. 

Jungkook stands at the opposite end of the long wooden table. In his hands is a small wicker basket and he shuffles from foot to foot, staring at nothing in particular. 

“Jungkook-ah?”

He looks up at you with large, startled eyes. In a split second, he’s gone. The only evidence that the young man had even been there is the wicker basket now rocking from side to side in front of you on the table. 

You can’t help but giggle as dark shadows slither from table to table. 

“Do you think he can still hear me when he’s in his shadow form?” Jessi slides onto the bench beside you. She looks around at all the shadows, likely wondering which one is Jungkook. 

“I have no idea.” 

“Hey, Jungkook-ah!” Jessi looks over her shoulder to survey more of the quad. “You’re a fucking wimp!” 

Ignoring Jessi’s comment, you turn your attention to the basket. Inside is a small bouquet of white mugunghwa, a modern-looking pale pink jeogori, and a brand-new hard copy of Fahrenheit 451. Your heart pounds in your chest as you lift each item from the basket and gently place them on the table in front of you, inspecting them with soft eyes and careful fingers. 

“Where…?” 

“He picked the flowers himself and did odd jobs around the Commune and hunted some meat to trade for the jeogori and the book,” Jessi answers your unfinished question. 

You feel your eyes tingle at the corners, with tears threatening to burn your cheeks if you blink too hard. From what it sounds like, the Summer gifts are extremely meaningful - something you share with those you care about to wish them a fruitful year and good health. To think that Jungkook has spent the few days you’ve been here preparing such a gift for you warms your heart, so much so that you feel like you’re catching fire from the inside out. 

“This is very special,” Taehyung speaks as he caresses one of the flower’s petals. 

You’d almost forgotten about Seokjin, Taehyung, Jimin, and the rest of your group. 

“It is,” you agree. You carefully return the items to the basket to keep them safe. “I don’t have a gift for him, though. Is it fair to show up to the Bonfire empty-handed?” 

Jimin rests his chin on Taehyung’s head and hums as he thinks.

“Typically, we don’t give gifts to each other during the Bonfire. The gifts you bring to the Bonfire are offerings to Nature to ask for health and prosperity in the upcoming year. You’ll toss them into the fire and recite the offering prayer - but you don’t have to since you don’t know it yet.” 

You’re not sure you have anything to offer the Bonfire, either, but it seems Taehyung reads your mind. 

“There are other ways to give an offering to Nature, if not through the Bonfire,” Taehyung supplies with a small smirk. He looks mischievous and sneaky; the expression makes your skin tickle with goosebumps. 

“Yeah, you can fuck,” Seokjin adds with a smirk of his own. He looks too proud of himself when you choke on your next inhale of air. 

“You can what?” Hoseok nearly trips over his feet in his attempt to get closer to hear what Seokjin has to say. 

“It’s not an official part of the Summer celebration,” Jimin interjects with a roll of his eyes at his husband. 

“It’s a part my sweet Jiminie doesn’t mind partaking in.” 

“Seokjin!” 

Taehyung throws his head back in a loud cackle as Jimin’s face turns bright pink. The poor fire Gifted sputters as he tries to defend himself. 

“N-no! No! It’s, no!” 

Seokjin shrugs and stretches his arms over his head, leaning on each side long enough to make his joints pop. 

“Sex is part of Nature, is it not? It represents vitality, fertility, birth, new beginnings,” Seokjin points out. “Nature takes all that we give her with equal value.” 

If Jimin is uncomfortable, you’re downright mortified. You can’t help but look around at the quad as Jessi had, every shadow lurking around the corner more suspicious than the next. What does it mean that they mention sex, and your thought immediately turns to Jungkook? Shame burns at your cheeks, but you can’t get the image out of your mind. You know pretty much nothing about sex and can barely even imagine what it would be like, yet you latch onto the idea that Jungkook might be… 

Well…

You can’t say it. You can’t bring yourself to think about it. Shaking your head, you quickly stand and scoop the wicker basket into your arms. 

“I’m going to put this in my room,” you announce to no one and everyone. 

The group shouts teasing comments about your shy behavior as you do your best to walk calmly in the direction of Seokjin and Jimin’s house, avoiding everyone’s gaze and especially the shadows.

FIRE

You expected the Bonfire to hurt. Not physically, since there are plenty of fire Gifteds around to ensure the celebrations stay safe and under control. No, you expected the pain of the Bonfire to be internal, an emotional pain like the pain you’ve been failing to run from in the months since Yoongi left you. 

It has taken you a long time to let go of the anger you’ve let fester inside of you. Your anger verges on hatred, and hatred helps no one. Who is there to hate? Yoongi, for sacrificing himself to save his friends? The rest of your group for mourning your best friend just as profoundly as you have? The Red Pins for taking everything away from you? 

The Bonfire crackles and hums like it’s trying to speak to you, but its voice is drowned out by the singing and shouting of the Gifteds dancing in a circle around its flames. The flames reach nearly as high as the buildings surrounding it. Jimin and the other fire Gifteds occasionally pull out stray flames, letting them lick around their arms and bodies to entertain the children fascinated by Gifts they have yet to master within themselves. 

The performance is beautiful just as much as it hurts your heart to watch. You’re mesmerized by the dancing flames and swaddled by the heat of the Bonfire, so you don’t notice another Gifted approaching you until you’re standing shoulder-to-shoulder. 

“Have you given your offering yet?” 

The fire reflects in Jungkook’s eyes like an orange light show, hues swirling and dancing to the tune of whatever ancient language the Gifteds sing in.

“Not yet,” you respond, turning to look at him. 

Jungkook’s gaze drops to take in the jeogori you’re wearing – the one he gifted you the day before. It fits you well, loose enough that you don’t feel restricted, but still cut in a way that compliments your body. You’re glad it’s short-sleeved, or you’d be sweating in the summer night air. 

“Me either.” 

“What did you bring?” 

Jungkook pats his thigh. When you look down, you see that he has his knife strapped to his leg. 

“The fire probably isn’t hot enough to melt it, but… I think it’s the thought that counts.” 

It’s a serious matter, what the two of you are discussing, but you can’t help but giggle as you crouch down to retrieve your offering from where it sits at your feet. 

“Your bow?” Jungkook whispers as though he’s scandalized. 

“And my arrows.”

“Are you sure you want to do that? You always–” 

You shake your head. “We’re giving our weapons up for the same reasons, aren’t we?”

Jungkook nibbles at his bottom lip for a few moments. He turns away from you, those big doe eyes focused again on the fire. 

“Yoongi gave them to us.” When Jungkook speaks, his voice quivers, but his cheeks remain dry. “And we’re done fighting.” 

“We’re done fighting…” 

You mull over the thought, let it roll around in your head, test out its taste on your tongue and see how it weighs in your heart. No more fighting, just like Hoseok said. In the place of fighting, you have a community, like Namjoon wanted. Like you all wanted, no matter how afraid you are to embrace it or admit that you aren’t sure how to join it. 

Yoongi never wanted any of you to have to fight.

“Yeah.” Jungkook’s shoulders sag. “I don’t think I could keep it up even if I had to. I’m… ready to be happy. Like the hyungs. They are so bright.” 

Your heart cracks with every word, nearly spilling out onto the floor when you watch Jimin sprint across the quad to launch himself into Seokjin’s arms. He wraps his legs around Seokjin’s waist as the two kiss, the fire illuminating their faces like angels’ halos. 

Reaching over, you squeeze Jungkook’s hand, lacing your fingers with his. You don’t need to speak; gently tugging his arm has him following you through the crowd toward the base of the Bonfire. The rest of your friends are somewhere around the Bonfire, but you aren’t interested in looking for them. 

“1… 2… 3.” 

When Jungkook stops counting, the two of you toss your weapons into the fire. Your hands are still intertwined, even if the heat makes your skin sweaty and stick together. You’re both willing to stand at the Bonfire for as long as you can, letting the flames burn your retinas as you try to follow the path the fire takes to eat away at the weapons you’ve surrendered to it. 

Letting go feels good, even if you’re letting go of something Yoongi gave you. In a way, he has given you far more than just a bow and some deadly arrows – or a knife and thigh harness. He gave you love, hope, and a second chance. He showed you what it means to love and be loved selflessly and unconditionally and taught you what it means to be a leader in the face of unbelievable hardship. 

You don’t think you could have been even half of the person Yoongi was. 

The press of fingers at the tip of your chin pulls you out of your melancholic thoughts. Jungkook cradles your face, swiping the pad of his thumb along your cheek once a few tears slip from your lash line. 

“Sorry, this is ridiculous,” you croak out. “This is supposed to be a happy celebration.” 

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow as a pout turns the corners of his lips downward. You think he’s about to scold you over apologizing for your feelings – which you know you shouldn’t do – but Jungkook is always full of surprises.  

“Can I take you somewhere?” 

Forests will likely always scare you. Too many unspeakable things have happened within the woods, too many sad souls wrapped around tree roots and branches. You’re unsure what the woods around the Commune have seen - or if they’re even real; Seokjin’s Gift confuses you. Are the woods here the same ones you traveled through to get here? Are they imaginary, crafted by Seokjin’s mind? Does any of this exist? 

The woods certainly feel different here than at the warehouse. Jungkook leads you by the hand down a winding path through trees decorated with brightly-colored garlands draped across their luscious green branches. You recognize the decorations as ones Jungkook, Jessi, and Jimin helped the children make while the rest of your group worked with Seokjin on the Bonfire. 

“I found this spot when I was looking for your gifts,” Jungkook murmurs. 

“With Jimin?” 

“Mhm. He said, I know a place. It was funny.” 

The sound of the Bonfire festivities is far in the distance, muted by the quiet rustling of life in the woods. Jungkook stops to brush a few vines away that hang from the trees. When he steps to the side to let you walk through the opening he created, you feel your breath get caught in your throat. 

Before you is a circular clearing littered with white and pink mugunghwa shrubs. The flowers nearly glow in the dark, and their sweet scent permeates the air. But what really tugs at your heart is the smattering of tiny fireflies that meander above your head, exploring the peaceful little world away from the chaos of the Commune. 

“Jimin hyung said he doesn’t think anyone else knows this place. He comes here to be alone. Or… with Seokjin,” Jungkook whispers, giving you a sheepish look with pink cheeks. “I think it’s supposed to be, umm, you know, for what the hyungs were talking about, but, I, uh, I’m not…” 

You suddenly feel hot, warmth prickling at your skin and making moisture collect along your hairline despite being far from the fire. What is Jungkook going on about? You have an idea but are too nervous to respond to his rambling. 

Jungkook nudges you with his shoulder before carefully weaving through the shrubs until he finds a more open spot to sit in the grass. 

You follow him, the two of you sitting face-to-face, your knees bumping into each other as you cross them. 

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you whisper. “And for the gifts. I didn’t get to talk to you about them…” 

There’s no need to speak so quietly, but something about this place makes you worry being too loud would disrupt the magic of it. 

“Of course,” Jungkook responds just as softly. “I wanted to show you something special because you are special to me.” 

Your stomach flips at the memory of Jungkook’s similar confession when you last cut his hair at the warehouse. His gentleness has been a saving grace for you in a world so dark, even when the darkness sometimes consumes him, too. 

“You’re special to me, too.” It’s easy to admit; it flows from your mouth as easily as water flows from your soul. 

“Thank you… I think we deserve something soft. Does that make sense?” 

You tell him that it does because even if you aren’t entirely sure what that means to him, you know that you desire softness in a life that has been so hard. 

Jungkook gives you a small smile. A shake of his head flips his bangs out of his eyes so he can look at you properly. It feels different, the way he looks at you. Darker, more intense, but not scary like you’ve seen him look at you before. There is the same power in his gaze, but it’s gentler. 

You don’t know what to make of it, so you don’t comment on it. Instead, you reach up to brush Jungkook’s bangs out of his eyes. 

“I need to cut your hair,” you muse, a small smirk pulling up the corner of your mouth. 

Your fingers linger on his face, migrating from his forehead to drag down the bridge of his nose. When you get to the tip, you mean to bop it lightly, but Jungkook tilts his head back. The adjustment makes your finger slip, and you end up pressing against his lips instead. 

Jungkook watches you with curious eyes as he puckers his lips slightly to kiss your finger. It’s a closed-mouth kiss, nothing scandalous, but you feel electricity shoot up your arm and spread through your body. 

“Oh,” you quietly gasp when Jungkook takes hold of your wrist. He kisses each of your other fingers, ending with a lingering one on your palm. 

“Can I tell you something?” He asks, bringing your hand down to hold in his lap. 

You silently nod because you’re afraid of what you might say or sound like if you open your mouth. 

Jungkook takes a deep breath, and his grip on your hand tightens slightly. Whatever it is he’s going to say seems like it’s taking a lot for him to sort through in his head from the way his breathing picks up and his eyebrows furrow. 

“Jungkook-ah, you don’t have to…” 

Jungkook shakes his head and takes your other hand, too. 

“No, I have to do this. It’s… we’re just, ahh.” He tilts his head back to stare at the starry sky. After a moment, he exhales loudly out of his nostrils and drops his gaze to yours again. “I’m in love with you. And for some reason, I feel like I shouldn’t tell you that ‘cause it seems selfish to dump this on you ‘cause everything is so… fucked up. It’s so fucked. I don’t know why I feel like I’m not allowed to… to be like this, to feel like this. But Jimin hyung said love is in our Nature and is never bad. And, yeah. I guess, yeah. I’m in love with you, and I think you need to know ‘cause I can’t keep pretending I’m not.” 

Out of breath from expelling his words as fast as he can, Jungkook clamps his mouth shut and waits silently. Waits. Waits for you to do something, to say something. 

He’s right. Everything is fucked up enough that you can relate to the guilt Jungkook feels for wanting to love, to be happy. He didn’t call it guilt, but you’ve felt it, so you know. It’s precisely what Jessi scolded you about – on numerous occasions. It’s what Hoseok, Namjoon, and Seokjin and Jimin have shown you that you can overcome. 

Are you in love with Jungkook?

As you watch him bat his pretty eyelashes at you, those large eyes bearing his entire soul and the love and hurt inside, you think that maybe you aren’t in love with him, not right now. But you do love him. And you think, maybe one day, when your heart no longer hurts, you could be in love, too. 

So it feels right when you scoot closer to Jungkook and slide your hand against the side of his face to bring your lips to his. 

Something flutters in the pit of your stomach, like the fireflies above your head, when Jungkook’s lips move with yours. There’s a push and pull to your movements, a hesitant dance that reminds you of how Jungkook spars. His touches are light yet calculated, showing strength when he holds himself back. 

“It’s okay to be happy,” you whisper against Jungkook’s lips when you finally pull away – just barely because you want to cocoon yourself in the warmth of his body. 

“You make me happy,” he whispers back. 

It takes more kissing, the exchange of air and spit that would normally gross you out but somehow feels good before your brain finally lets go of the negativity you’ve been holding. 

Jungkook kisses away your shame and guilt as he squeezes your hips and pulls you into his lap. You settle on his thighs with your legs wrapped around his tiny waist and let him kiss you until you can’t breathe. And just when you feel like you’ll suffocate in the most pleasant way, he begins planting kisses along your jaw. 

Your hands find the hair at the back of Jungkook’s head, and you run your fingers through his hair to distract yourself from how your hands are trembling. Your entire body vibrates with a desperate feeling you’ve never had before as Jungkook sucks on the sensitive skin of your throat. The sensation makes you squirm.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans into the crook of your neck. He sounds pained to you, which makes you panic. 

“What? What’s wrong?” You feel like you’re blinking sleep out of your eyes from how dazed you are. Embarrassment creeps along your burning skin; how can you be so out of your mind that you start behaving like this? 

Jungkook presses his hands flat against your back, the pads of his fingers massaging your muscles while he lowers his touch, slowly and gently, until his hands find the curve of your ass. 

“Jungkook-ah,” you nearly scold him when he squeezes you. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he confesses, encouraging you to grind against his crotch. 

It’s only then that you feel his erection in his pants. The knowledge that he’s reacting this way because of you makes the electricity in your veins spike through you even stronger. 

“Me either.” 

Jungkook finally lifts his head to look at you, and it’s a wonder how he manages to wear innocent doe eyes yet bite his kissed-pink bottom lip in an air of seduction that makes your body tingle. 

“I want to be good for you.” 

His words do something to you that you’re too scared to address, so you opt for humor when you reply, “Well, I don’t have anything to compare you to.” 

With a roll of his eyes, Jungkook brings trembling hands to the side of your jeogori where the strings are tied into a bow to keep the clothing in place. 

“Can I take this off?” 

“Please.” 

Getting naked in front of Jungkook is a lot less terrifying than you thought it would be – not that you’d ever thought of it before! Not like this, at least. The two of you have bathed together, but that’s different. It’s easier to hide in the water, and both of you are respectful enough not to take peeks. So it’s most likely the calming presence Jungkook holds that keeps you relaxed once you kneel naked in front of each other. In the moonlight, you both let your eyes wander each other’s figures, drinking in each other like you want to savor it. 

You let Jungkook’s hands wander, experimentally pinching your nipples to draw a moan out of you and tickling your stomach as his touches make their way down your body. He whispers gentle words of encouragement and proclamations of your beauty when you fall back in the grass and open your thighs for him. 

“I want to touch you,” Jungkook says into your chest. Your skin glistens from how his tongue explores where his hands just had, but you’re more focused on his fingers ghosting over your hips. “Please?” 

“Yes,” you whimper. 

You’re both shaking when Jungkook slips his fingers through your folds, his thumb lightly pressing against your clit while his fingers reach your entrance. It’s an odd sensation, but you’re quickly a moaning mess beneath him. Even if the rhythm of his fingers pumping in and out of you isn’t consistent, and he’s touching you almost too lightly as though he’s afraid of hurting you, it still feels good.

“Am I doing okay?” 

You can’t help but laugh. 

When he gives you a pout, you throw your arm around his shoulders and pull him down to kiss him. He hovers over you, spreading you open further because your thighs press against the outsides of his hips. You both notice when his cock – which you’d nervously ignored until now – brushes against the crease of your thigh. 

“Fuck,” Jungkook moans, and it’s the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard. “I want… I wanna, ah, fuck.” If you’d thought Jungkook’s usual flustered state was cute, this is downright deadly. 

“Me, too.” You guess what he’s trying to say – are confirmed when he lightly bites your shoulder and ruts against you.

“Are you sure?” 

It’s a valid question, and you surprise yourself when you say “yes” without hesitation. But you’ve wanted this for much longer than you can admit. Your desire for Jungkook has grown with every soft late-night cuddle and almost kiss. 

Jungkook rolls his hips, gliding his cock between your thighs, the motion wet and slippery. It takes some fumbling before he manages to line himself with your entrance and slowly sink inside you. 

Gentle, careful, he whispers that he’ll take care of you even though he has no experience. With each thrust, you promise him that it doesn’t hurt, speak praise into his ear that makes his entire body shiver. 

Your legs ache from your unusual position, and your sweat mixes with Jungkook’s in a way that’s honestly disgusting if you think about it. Still, you can’t deny how good the building pressure feels as it seems to start between your thighs and at your clit, slowly spreading like wildfire up your stomach and into somewhere deep inside of you. 

The only time you’ve heard anyone talk about sex is Jessi, and it was typically in a negative light. Something about men not knowing where the clit is or how to use their dicks. Jungkook seems like a natural; he’s the golden maknae for a reason. Maybe it’s not mind-blowing, but you’re both starting with nothing to guide you. 

Rather than a life-changing orgasm, you’re more interested in how Jungkook looks like he’d give his heart to you, no questions asked. Like he already has. 

You’re more interested in how softly he kisses you and holds your leg against his hip and caresses it like you’re something worth treating with care. 

You’re more interested in how he moans, “I love you, fuck, I love you so much,” and lets you bite his bottom lip because he knows you aren’t ready to say it back, and he’s okay with that. Because he’ll wait for you for as long as you need him to. 

“I’m so sorry,” Jungkook moans against your throat, where he’s sucked blossoms nearly as pretty as the mugunghwa. “But I’m gonna come, like, ahh, fuck, like right, fuck, shit, like right now.” 

From Jessi’s complaints, sex is supposed to end with this: Jungkook finding his release against your inner thighs because he has enough sense to pull out, and you’re left on your back, discarded and unsatisfied. 

So when Jungkook slides down until your thighs are propped open by his shoulders, you watch in confusion because you thought it was over. 

The flick of his tongue against your clit has you lifting off the ground from how sharply you arch your back. You frantically exhale a raspy chant of Jungkook’s name in time with each pump of his fingers he’s managed to slip inside you while you struggle to lie still. 

“Let me make you feel good,” he murmurs with shiny lips, and you see stars just from that image alone. 

Later, when you’re both sweaty and exhausted, you curl together under the protective barrier of Jungkook’s shadows. He hides you from the world and keeps you safe until morning when you’ll return to the Commune to bring in the First of Summer with a breakfast feast. 

But until then, you hold each other with promises of never letting go, forgiveness, and understanding. 

“We’re gonna be okay,” Jungkook whispers against your hair. 

“You just have to stick with me, right?” 

When he laughs, you feel it rumble through his chest. “By your side is the only place I wanna be.” 

You fall asleep among the mugunghwa shrubs and fireflies to the sound of Jungkook’s heartbeat. 

@rkiveslibrary @mar-lo-pap

@iadelicacy @likecrazy22 @jaemayy @annyeongbitch7

[neimaami]

6 AM (M)

SYNOPSIS: Jungkook wakes you up at 6AM for more than just morning cuddles

WARNINGS : SMUT, protected sex, dirty talk, mention of oral sex (f), rough sex, missionary, Jk kind of a freak, soft kook, first time writing smut! (constructive criticism is very much condoned), established relationship, spit kink, eye-contact kink (is that a thing?)

word count: 4.0k

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

If Jeonguk wasn’t the love of your life, you swear you would have killed him. 

If there is one thing you hate more in this world than rude, snobby rich kids, it’s being woken up in the crack ass of dawn. Seriously, your alarm hadn’t even gone off yet—that’s supposed to be an obvious universal sign for “wake me up, and I’ll end you.” But Jeonguk? He thrives on pushing your limits, of testing your patience to heights no one has ever dared to cross. If you had known moving in with Jeonguk would result in sleepless nights and early awakenings, you would have reconsidered. 

“Stop.” A sleepy mumble escapes your lips, your voice sounding ragged and throat raspy - your eyes remaining closed in your half-asleep state. The persistent finger poking against your cheek over and over again only served to agitate you even further as it dragged you back to reality from the comfort of dreamland. “Guk seriously…” An exasperated sigh fell from your lips as you lazily raised an arm to swat his hand away. 

A deep, throaty chuckle escaped him, sending shivers down your spine. You inwardly curse your body for the way it reacts to the sound of his voice. Your nipples harden embarrassingly against the thin fabric of your tank top. The wooden bed creaks softly as you shift, turning your back to him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing the reaction he effortlessly draws from your body. The white sheets of your shared comforter were a wrinkled mess that reached just below your knees - it had been a warm, sticky night that left you both no choice but to kick the sheets off your bodies. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” The smug tone in his voice was apparent as you felt the bed dip even further, his chest now pressing against your back. He leaned down, mouth inches away from the shell of your ear, his breath fanning over your skin, sending yet another wave of shivers down your spine. “Did I wake you up?” He whispered, the corner of his lip curling into a smirk.

The pillow beneath your head bunches as your fingers tighten around the fabric, gripping it in your palm. “Don’t act innocent, you know for a fact you woke me up on purpose with your constant poking.” You turn your body even further away from him in retaliation. 

You heard a scoff falling from his lips. “It’s not my fault your lazy ass takes ages to wake up.” You felt his hand coming down to rest on your bare hip from where your tank top had ridden up. Leaning down, his lips dragged softly against the back of your neck. 

“No one else in the world wakes up at 6 AM on a weekend but you, Guk.” You shot back, which only earns you a snort from him. He trails soft kisses up the side of your neck, a light featherly touch that has you craving for more. 

“Who said anything about 6AM?” He presses one last kiss against your flushed cheek before pulling back. “I knew you had no sense of time, but this is just a whole new level.” He smiled that stupid smug grin of his that made you want to do nothing else but wipe it off. 

“What are you talking about?” You grumble in annoyance, not bothering to open your eyes. This was one of the rare mornings you didn’t have to drag yourself out of bed for your dreaded university lectures. Not to mention, the campus itself was a nightmare to navigate—always loud and irritating. Especially in the mornings, when all you wanted to do was to sink back into the  comfort of your warm bed.

“It’s 4PM, baby” His voice lowered to a soft rumble. Your eyes snap open. Yes you were lazy, yes you loved sleeping above anything else, but you hated being unproductive, of feeling as if you wasted an entire day lazing around in bed. As fast as lightning you’re sitting up, causing the wooden bed to creak under your added pressure. Jungkook could only smile in amusement from beside you, no doubt taking in your disheveled appearance - hair a mess, clothes wrinkled, eyes puffy from sleep. 

“Why didn’t you wake me up sooner!” You whine, reaching out for your phone on the nightstand, eyes taking a moment to adjust to the screen. The bold letters ‘6:15AM’ flash on the homescreen of your phone. Your mind dawns in realization, your head snaps towards Jungkook who lays against the wooden headboard smugly. His arms resting behind his head, sheets pooling against his waist - leaving his toned chest and delicious abs to view. If you weren’t so irritated you would have jumped his bones no doubt.

“Oh whoops, I must’ve read the time wrong.” He shrugged as if it were no big deal. You launched yourself onto him in an instant, causing him to let out a ‘yelp’ in surprise. You knew his weakness, knew it like the back of your hand - tickles. It was a very effective method if you do say so yourself. 

He let out a strained, breathless laugh as your fingers mercilessly danced against the sides of his bare torso, the bed thrashed and creaked from the movements of his attempts at escape. “Stop, Stop, I’m sorry!” He chanted as he tried to get ahold of your wrists. Through many months of perfecting Jungkook’s weakness, you had become quite the expert on dodging his attempts to stop your tickling. 

“This is what you get!” Your eyes crinkled at the corners, a wide smile you made no effort to hide, appearing on your lips. To get a better angle, you swung a leg over his torso, successfully straddling his hips, your fingers never haltering their torturous movements against the sides of his ribs. He was laughing so hard you could see a vein popping out from the side of his neck from the strain. “Now you’ll know to never disrupt my sleep!” 

In a moment of distraction, he got a hold of your wrists, turning the both of you around in an instant. You let out an ‘oof’ sound as your back hit the mattress with more force than he had probably intended. The grip of his hands on your wrists only tightened as he forced them above your head, keeping them steady against the pillow. 

“Woah, whoah, whoa there, calm down pretty lady” His voice came out in a breathless chuckle, you felt a pang of pride in your chest for reducing him to such a state - even if it was just from a tickle attack. 

“Shut up Jungkook, you lied to me and made me miss on my precious and very much needed beauty sleep!” you ramble, struggling against his hold as he tightened his hands around your wrists.

“I had to get you up somehow, knowing you, nothing else would have worked.” He leaned down to start pressing open-mouthed kisses to the side of your neck, his warm tongue darting out to taste your skin. The feeling made you shiver against him.

“T-that’s not an excuse!” You weakly argue, feeling the way his bare chest pressed you down against the mattress even further. His mouth continued its assault on your senses, trailing up further against the side of your neck before his breath fanned against the shell of your ear.

“Shhh” He whispered, his hand coming up to cup one of your breasts in his warm hand, thumb brushing over one of your hard nipples and feeling it pebble even further. A small gasp escapes your lips as he starts to grind his very clear and persistent bulge against your clothed core. 

You can’t help but scoff “I can’t believe my tickles got you horny…they were supposed to be the ultimate weapon again-” Your voice was cut short when his lips pressed against yours in a sudden frenzied kiss. They were warm and soft as they moved in accordance with yours. His teeth sunk down against your bottom lip, to which you gasp at the feeling. He took the opportunity to slide his tongue into the wet cavern of your mouth, tongue intertwining with yours. 

“Guk…” You moan softly against his lips, your legs parting instinctively to feel the straining erection pressing directly against your clothed clit. You let out a breathless moan, bucking your hips up towards his, grinding yourself against him in hopes of finding much needed friction. He groaned against your lips, pushing his own hips against yours. The both of you gasp at the feeling. He pulled away from the kiss with your bottom lip caught between his teeth. He watches as it falls back into place when he lets go. He leans down to pepper kisses over your collarbone. 

You let out a strangled moan when he hooks a finger to the hem of your tank top and raises it up enough to reveal your bare breasts to his gaze, your already hardened nipples exposed to the warm air of the room. It was still early morning, the birds chirped outside and the hallways of the apartment were quiet. He wastes no time in leaning down and taking one of your rosy peaks into his mouth, his tongue lavishing over the sensitive peak, teeth grazing against your skin. “Jungkook!” Your back arches off the mattress of the bed, your hips grinding sloppily against his even faster. “P-please” You whimper, hands Intertwining between his brown locks.

He released your nipple with a soft ‘pop’ watching attentively as the skin around it reddens from his ministrations. “Please what, baby?” He mumbles lazily, leaning down to dart his tongue out and flicking it against the nub. Your toes curl into the mattress as his other hand comes up to tug and twist at your other nipple. 

“P-Please…I need you” You gasp in pleasure, in other circumstances you would’ve felt embarrassed as you felt his smirk against the valley of your breasts - but not today, not when you were this horny, not when he manages to reduce you to such a state. 

He looks up at you through hooded eyes. He shakes his head, his thumb and pointer finger pinches and tugs at your nipple even harder, causing you to whimper. “Need what? Use your words, princess. I’m not a fucking mind reader” You shiver at the authoritative tone in his voice, under other conditions you would have slapped his head upside down if he talked to you that way - today you relished in it. 

“M-mouth” your words were choppy, hoping to get away with saying the minimal possible thing. Your cheeks were already burning in embarrassment and lust. Jungkook shook his head once more, the smirk that once adorned his face was replaced by a deep scowl. 

“Are you trying to get on my nerves?” With narrowed eyes he drank in your rosy cheeks and the way your mouth was slightly parted. He sat back on his haunches, eyes trailing down the expanse of your body as he rested his hands on your hips, his thumb stroking the skin underneath the waistband of your pyjama shorts. “I’ll ask you one more time. What do you want? Tell what it is you need from me, baby”

“I need your mouth! your tongue, cock, anything!” You gasp out in desperation, only serving to deepen the red on your cheeks. You could see the way a triumphant, smug, grin broke out on his face. He wasted no time gripping the waistband of your shorts and tugging them down and off your legs - the fabric falling carelessly onto the floor. 

“Such a good girl” He cooed, leaning in to press a deep, filthy kiss against your lips - all tongue and spit. His fingers reached down between your legs to graze dangerously low on your inner thigh. Your moans were muffled by his lips against yours before he broke the kiss.

“Stop teasing me” You buck your hips up, breath catching in your throat as he shifts his thigh to rest between your legs. The added pressure to your clothed clit fueled your desires even further, hips grinding against the straining muscle with no ounce of shame. He flexed the muscle of his thigh, watching transfixed as you pleasured yourself.

“Fuck baby, look at you” He slurred with lust, his eyes darkening at the sight “So wet and needy” He chuckled when he saw a wet spot forming onto his grey sweatpants. He removed his thigh from between your legs, causing you to whine in annoyance - your protest doesn’t last long as he hooks a finger to the waistband of your soaked panties and tugs them all the way down your legs. 

He lets out a low whistle at the sight, reaching down to grip the back of your thighs and parting your legs to reveal your soaked puffy folds. You prop up on your forearms as he adjusts his head between your legs, guiding your thighs to rest over his shoulders. “So fucking wet…” His breath fanned over your glistening folds causing your hands to fist the sheets beneath you.

“Oh kookie…” You whimper softly, your eyebrows furrowed and lips parted as you watched his every movement in anticipation. He brought one of his fingers to slide up your slit, gathering the wetness onto his digit. He parts your wet folds with his pointer and middle finger, groaning at the sight before him as he eyes your pussy like a starved man. He leaned in to take a deep, eye-rolling sniff at your pussy. Your cheeks burst into literal flames. “That’s so dirty…” You whisper, biting your lip.

“What is?” He raised a brow, his hooded eyes landing on yours as he lifted his head up slightly. “Can’t a guy appreciate his woman’s pussy? Especially if it’s as sexy as yours, pink and wet…and oh so fucking deliscious…” 

He leans in and licks a bold, wet strip against your folds from your entrance all the way up your clit. You gasp at the sensation, your hand shooting out to grip his hair. He hums against your pussy, eyes closing in concentration as his tongue lavishes against your folds. You could only throw your head back in ecstasy, your mind hazy and eyes blurry. When he plops off your pussy, you furrow your eyebrows in confusion and slight annoyance. That is, until you see him gather saliva into his mouth, eyes locked on yours as he spits onto your folds.

Your mouth fell open at his action, feeling even more turned on. You buck your hips up against his mouth, curling your toes as his lips circled around your clit and gave the bundle of nerves a hard suck. Your body fell limp against the mattress. The room filled with the lewd sounds of his mouth against your wet folds. “M-more” You whimper as you felt the tip of his middle finger circle against your entrance, he then released your clit with a ‘pop’

“Look at me.” His voice booms against the walls of the fairly quiet bedroom. Your eyes snap to his at his command, biting your lip as his finger slips all the way inside you. “If you look away I’ll stop.” He promised, slowly thrusting his finger in and out of your velvety walls. Leaning down, his nose nuzzled against your clit as his tongue drew shapes against your slit, oozing out more wetness from you. 

“Oh guk…” You moan, as you tug at his hair, bucking your hips up against his fingers as he adds a second, then a third. His eyes remained locked on yours at all times, hooded and filled with unmistaken lust. “I love the way you look at me.” You say breathlessly, tightening your thighs around his head. He hums against your folds, his tongue darting out to flick against your clit before taking it into his mouth and sucking harshly onto the nub, his teeth grazing against the sensitive area. His fingers curl inside you, finding that spongey, soft area where he begins to concentrate all his efforts on, his fingers thrusting against it over and over again until you’re a moaning mess beneath him. 

“Fuck! Right there…oh Guk, don’t stop!” You moan repeatedly with no real consciousness of what you were saying - too far gone for coherent thoughts. His fingers set a fast, rough pace, causing the room to echo with the sounds of your wetness, meanwhile his mouth sucks harshly against your clit. It was more than enough to push you over the edge, your thighs trembling between his head as your orgasm washed over you. 

“Oh my god-” You choke out, your eyes rolling back in your head, hips bucking frantically against his face, riding out your mind-blowing orgasm. You fall limp against the mattress when the feeling starts to subside. Jungkook releases your clit with a last suck and slowly extracts his fingers from your soaked pussy. He brings his fingers coated with your arousal into his mouth, tongue darting out for a taste. Your cheeks burn at the sight of him humming in pleasure. 

“So deliscious…sweetest pussy ever.” His voice was thick and laced with lust, smiling down at you as he leans down to brace his forearms on either side of your head. He captures your lips with his, humming when you taste yourself on his tongue. One of his hands disappears into the waistband of his sweatpants, taking out his painfully hard cock from the confines of his boxers. Breaking the kiss, your mouth salivates at the sight, thick droplets of pre-cum sliding down his cock from the slit at the tip of his puffy cockhead. “Eyes on me.”

Your eyes snap back to him as he slowly gives his cock a couple of lazy strokes. “C-condom…” You remind him when you feel the tip of his cock slide against your folds to collect your wetness. You can feel him groan in annoyance at your reminder, a petulant pout forming on his lips. It amazed you how quick he could go from a sexy, dominant man to a cute, doe-eyed boy. 

“I thought you were on birth control.” He says as he continues to rub his cock against your slick folds - your breath coming out slightly ragged.

“I am…but you know it’s not 100% effective, it’s better safe than sorry.” You reach out towards the night stand and fish blindly for the half-empty box of condoms. It was standard procedure at this point as he takes the condom from your hand with much reluctance. 

“This is stupid…” He complains as he rips the packet open with his fingers, grabbing the rubber and placing it against his cock, rolling out the material so it fits snugly against his hard cock. He hissed at the feeling. “I hate wearing this shit” 

Before you could educate him on the importance of protection, his cock was already nudging instantly against your entrance. “Please don’t talk. It’ll ruin the mood.” you would’ve gotten offended if it weren’t for the delicious stretch of his cock sliding inside you, inch by torturous inch. You whimper at the feeling, reaching out to press his chest against yours, your legs wrapping around his waist. You both moan in unison. Your back arches as he easily slides the rest of the way inside you, his hips resting snuggly against yours.

“Shit” He curses under his breath, leaning down to bury his face in the crook of your neck. You could only whimper at the feeling of being so utterly full, stretched out by the man on top of you - your Jungkook. “You feel so fucking good…” He slurs with lust, his mouth trailing open-mouthed kisses against the side of your neck.

“P-please move kook…” At your breathy whisper Jungkook shudders, hips pulling back just enough to leave the tip inside you before slamming back down against you. The both of you let out a strangled moan at the feeling. He sets a fast, rough pace, his cock sliding in and out of you at a steady rhythm, one that has the whole bed rocking and headboard slamming against the wall.

“That’s it…take my cock…” He throws his head back in a prolonged, deep groan, his eyes shuddering closed. You were a whimpering mess beneath him, your tits bouncing with each harsh thrust - feeling every inch of his hard cock inside you. He grips the back of your thighs and presses them down towards your chest, folding you nearly in half. This allows his cock to find that perfect spot inside you. His cock pounds into you even harder as he sits back on his haunches, using his thigh muscles to help thrust even deeper inside you, the tip of his cock kissing your g-spot over and over again.

You were a babbling mess beneath him, making no coherent sentences and letting out drawled out moans that had Jungkook hypnotised. He re-doubled his efforts, slamming into you with renowned vigour. He leaned down to catch one of your bouncing tits into his mouth. The feeling of his lips around your sensitive nipple was enough to leave you in a stuttering mess.

He plops off your nipple and leans down to press his forehead against yours, his hips never faltering their rhythm as his eyes bore into yours. “ohhh my- god,” you cry, he was fucking you so good it was turning your brain into mush. He opens his mouth to let a droplet of his sticky spit land against your cheek.

“hnngh…love this pussy” He slurs incoherently, throwing his head back once more as his rhythm starts to become sloppy and uncoordinated. With a last shuddering whimper, the second orgasm of the morning washed over you. Your whole body convulsing as you drag your nails down the expanse of his back, his name falling from your lips in a never ending mantra. 

It didn’t take much long after that Jungkook was spilling himself into the condom, your name falling from his lips in a deep rumble. His thrusts were shallow and slow, riding out both your orgasms. He released his grip on your thighs and gently cradled your body against his chest. His weight pushed you against the mattress as his cock softened inside you.

“Holy shit” He panted against the side of your neck “I should wake you up at 6AM everyday if this is the type of sex we’ll have.” That earns him a pinch to the side by your fingers, he yelps at the feeling, reaching out to hold your hand in his. “Hey, no need to get violent…I was only joking…” The feeling of his lips curling into a smirk had you thinking otherwise. 

You roll your eyes and slowly turn your head to capture his gaze with yours. “As much as I’m enjoying this moment, I really, really need to pee.”

He lets out an incredulous scoff “Hold it in. I need affection and love, woman” He nuzzled his nose onto the side of your neck once again.

“Baby please, I’m dying here!” You wiggled in discomfort, already feeling the pressure in your lower abdomen, you hadn’t peed all night, it was only fair that he let you now. With a drawn out sigh he starts to slide his softening cock out of you, hissing as it makes contact with the cool air of the room. He collapsed next to you on the bed. You quickly slide out off the mattress and pad towards the bathroom. 

Jungkook can’t help but marvel at the sight of your bare body, the way your ass bounced with each step you took. He could already feel his cock starting to harden at the sight. “Fuck…hurry up babe! We’re far from done.”

[justarkive]

Chemtrails Over The Country Club | JJK - ch2

Chapter 2 : Giddy up!

pairing : sunshine x grumpy, non idol city boy jungkook x country girl yn, renowned fuckboy x inexperienced reader, volunteer x volunteer

chapter warnings : chapter warnings: horses, horse girls, and horse trauma. jungkook is annoying, hungover, and inexplicably hot with a vape addiction and bubble pop habit. sunshine oc is wearing half laced boots and a braid, includes barn shoveling, shovel based arguments, passive aggressive raking, one traumatizing horseback ride, flirt fights, rural food superiority, emotional whiplash, accidental vulnerability, mentions of smoking and sad boy city sins, parental disappointment, a rhubarb candy that changes lives, and the kind of eye contact that ends friendships. ends just before the creek scene because were edging babes xoxo

taglist : @cristinamajadera @oumy221 @roseda @crisle19 @jjkkkk15 @hoonsbrow @jjkluver7 @angie-x3 @lovingkoalaface @elinaki92 @wettbaby @fiddlebiddls @koodollylvr @httpsmei @alextgef @shellyyy177 @mar-lo-pap @hernameislanablog @jenniebyrubies ( check pinned tba!)

masterlist <

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“—this is fucking ridiculous.”

He mutters it under his breath, but you still hear him. Youre literally right there, standing two feet away in your old barn boots, holding a shovel full of cow shit and trying not to let the smell ruin your life.

He kicks a bucket over towards your feet, not even hard. Just enough to make a statement or whatever hes been trying to do since the whole day youve been here. And then leans against the fence with his arms crossed like hes above all this.

You glance over, eyebrows raised. “You know, the cows can feel that attitude.”

He doesnt answer. He looks like hell.. Hoodie tied around his waist, black tank top clinging to his shoulders, jaw tight, eyes bloodshot. His hair’s messy like he didn’t even brush it, and he smells like sweat and shame and the last 2% of a peach White Claw.

You’re not sure what happened last night, but you do know that someone got drunk enough to play trap remixes at full volume, the volunteers bunkhouse looked like a tornado scene from twister

and your uncle was pissed.

Likee… really pissed.

Apparently the girl he hooked up with already got sent home for stealing the beers. Uncle doesn’t play. And Jungkook? He got scolded loud enough for the chickens to stop clucking.

Now it’s Day Two. And guess who got stuck on barn cleanup duty? Both of you.

Lucky you !

“Are you dead?” you ask, scraping a shovel across the pen.

He exhales through his nose. “Why am I the one cleaning cow shit?”

“Maybe because you threw a beer can at the ceiling fan.”

“That didn’t even happen.”

“I heard it did.”

“From who?”

You tilt your head. “… A little duck told me.”

He groans and drags a rake across the dirt like he’s doing it just to die slowly. “This place is a prison.”

“It’s a barn.”

“Same thing.”

You try not to laugh. He catches it anyway. His eyes flick over to you. You’re flushed from the sun, your hair in a messy braid, an old tank top tied up at the waist, and your boots half unlaced. There’s hay in your elbow crease. And you still look like you belong here.

Which is annoying.

He wipes sweat off his brow with the hem of his shirt, revealing just a peek of his toned stomach, and you immediately look away.

You’re not flirting with a boy who threw up next to a tractor last night. You’re not.

“You dont have to do it that hard,” you mutter, watching him angrily rake.

“Im expressing myself,” he mutters back.

“Well maybe try journaling. Or prayer.”

He snorts once, loud and surprised. And then it’s quiet for a while. Just the sound of flies buzzing and your shovel scraping the earth. And before you even know it, youve both been scooping for an hour.

Or… just you. One full hour in the heat, your braid stuck to your neck, arms aching, and shirt damp where the sun won’t quit, and he’s done exactly one thing the whole time.

Which is: scoop one half assed pile of cow shit into the wrong bucket, swear at his own boots, and then sit his ass down on the feed sack like he’s on break from a job he never even applied for.

He’s got one leg up, thumb tapping on his phone screen, other hand resting casually on the vape tucked under his sleeve. Every few minutes he glances around, not to check on the work, but to make sure no one watching when he takes another hit.

You glance at him. Hes playing some bubble pop game. Not even something cool. Just bubbles.

Your eye twitches. “Hey,” you call, resting your shovel against the fence. “You gonna actually help?”

He doesnt look up. “im supervising.”

You blink. “From there?”

“..Yes?”

You cross your arms. “Okay, well, Snowball’s supervising. Wanna be useful instead?”

He finally looks at you, the lip ring glinting and jaw flexed.“Why are you so pressed?” he asks, dryly. “It’s not like this barn’s gonna implode without me.”

“Because I’m doing everything, and you’re just sitting there vaping like a twelve year old who got grounded.”

He scoffs. “That’s generous. I don’t even live here.”

“Oh, I can tell.”

He leans back, thumb still swiping. “God, you’re annoying.”

“And youre lazy.”

“You love talking, don’t you?”

You take a breath. Then another. You’re not gonna scream at him in front of the cows. You cant.

“I know you’re from the city,” you bite, finally, “and I know you probably think you’re too good to be here—”

“I am too good to be here,” he cuts in.

You stare at him. “Then why are you here?”

He shrugs. Like it’s no big deal. “Didn’t choose it.”

“Okay. So leave.”

He looks at you then. Not bored. Not smug. Just blank. You hold his gaze, arms crossed, sweat dripping down your spine. “Seriously. If it’s so terrible here, and you’re too cool to touch a shovel, then what’s stopping you? go. No ones holding you hostage.”

Silence, the kind that buzzes. You can hear the flies. The chickens, the stupid cow chewing in the corner like it’s judging both of you.

Jungkook doesn’t move, Just taps his screen once. Game over, his vape clicks once in his hand. But he dosent hit it.

“…I’m not leaving,” he says finally, quiet but sharp.

You raise a brow. “Right. Cuz you love cows so much.”

“No,” he mutters. “cuz if I fuck this up, I dont go home at all,”

And then he stands very slowly, not even to help, not yet, but just to walk past you, knocking your shoulder as he goes. You don’t say anything. You just stare after him.

..so you chase after him before you can stop yourself.

“Jungkook,” you call, “come on.”

He keeps walking like he didnt hear you.

You jog a little to catch up, grab his sleeve. “Seriously?”

He turns, scowling. “What?”

“Don’t what me. You didn’t do anything. You raked for like five seconds and then pouted for an hour.”

He scoffs, pulling his arm free. “So?”

“So, I don’t know, maybe do your job?”

He exhales sharp through his nose. “Didn’t realize you were in charge of the barn.”

“I’m not,” you say, planting your hands on your hips. “But I also didn’t sign up to babysit a vape and a teenager with bad attitude.”

That gets a twitch in his jaw. He looks at you for a long beat, then rolls his eyes and grabs the rake from where he left it.

“Fine,” he mutters. “Jesus.”

You both rake in silence for a bit. Him angry and you annoyed. The cows chewing completely unfazed. Eventually, your uncle yells, “Lunch!” from the shed. You drop your shovel like it’s on fire.

Jungkook turns like he’s about to head back to the hostel. You stop him again. “Where are you going? The gate is closed,”

He shrugs. “My room.”

“Which is where?”

He pauses.

Behind the gate…

You raise your brows. “Exactly. Come on. My uncle’s shop has food.”

He hesitates. “I didnt bring money.”

You smirk. “I knew you didnt. Don’t worry, I have a tab, perks of being the favorite.”

He snorts. “Ur not the favorite.”

“You haven’t met me long enough to know that.”

The shop smells like mint and old wood and warm tomatoes when you walk in. Shelves lined with jars of jam and weird vegetables you can’t pronounce. A chalkboard says “ORGANIC PRODUCE AND EGGS (please don’t steal)” in your uncle’s handwriting.

You grab a lemonade and your usual sandwich. Jungkook lingers near the fridge. “You want something or are you just gonna stare at the pickle jars?”

He shrugs. “I dunno.”

“dont be shyy,” you sing. “pick something.”

He sighs and grabs a sad looking egg sandwich andyou make a face. “Seriously? Out of all the options?”

“Didnt realise it was a tasting menu.”

You roll your eyes and grab a jar of pink candies from the counter. “Okay but these are amazing. Rhubarb. Literally changed my life.”

He squints. “Isn’t rhubarb a vegetable?”

“Yeah. But, like… dessert veg?”

He stares at you like he’s trying to decide if you’re messing with him.

You just smile and hand the cashier a crumpled punch card. then outside, you sip lemonade as you both walk slow back toward the barn. “You know,” you say between bites, “you would have hated the shop job even more.”

Jungkook raises a brow. “There was a shop job?”

“Yes. But ur not friendly enough to run a till.”

“Didn’t apply for anything anyway,” he mutters. “My dad sent me.”

You glance at him. “Oh?”

He shrugs. “Woke up one morning and he’d already filled out the form. I just got in the car.”

“That’s wild.”

“That’s my life.”

You walk in silence for a moment. Then, gentle: “Whyd he evensend you?”

He licks some sauce off his thumb, shrugs again. “Threw a party. Mom and dad got sick of it.”

“That’s it?”

He gives you a look. “…It was a big party.”

You laugh. “Still. If I threw a party at my house, my mom would actually bury me in the yard.”

“Who would you even invite? The chickens?”

You elbow him. “Wow. Okay.”

He grins. It’s tiny and barely there, but it is a grin. “You should really like… I don’t know. Maybe try not to drive your parents insane.”

He goes quiet before he scoffs, “You don’t know them.”

“No,” you say softly. “But the fact they sent you here instead of locking you up? Kinda says something.”

He doesn’t answer right away.

Just looks out at the fields. Lets out a breath through his nose. “…Id argue this is worse.”

You snort. “It’s not.”

he shrugs again before he pulls out his phone again and opens that dumb little bubble game. you clock it instantly. “Seriously?” you ask, licking sauce off your thumb. “You’re addicted.”

“It’s called Bubble Bust 3,” he mutters. “And it’s therapeutic.”

You lean over to peek at his screen. “It’s literally popping colored dots.”

“Yeah. For points.”

You squint at the screen. “Let me try.”

He hesitates. Then hands it over. “Don’t ruin my streak.”

You scoff, sitting beside him on the porch steps. The sun’s baking the wood under your thighs and your shoulders are touching now, barely, but it’s enough to notice.

He watches as you drag your thumb across the screen, popping rows of digital bubbles in the wrong direction entirely,

“You suck,” he says.

“I’m disoriented,” you reply. “It’s ugly. Like. Why is it this ugly?”

“It’s not about looks, irs about strategy.”

“Okay, war general.”

You both fall quiet and then ur knees knock gently. He smells like sun and sweat. His head tilts slightly toward yours as he watches the screen. And suddenly you’re thinking too hard about how close he is. You lock the screen and hand it back. “Wanna see a real game?”

He raises an eyebrow. “What, horse trivia?”

You smirk. “Better.”

He narrows his eyes. “Wait…”

But you’re already standing, brushing crumbs off your thighs and grabbing your bag. “Cmon. Don’t be a chicken.”

“Ur being cryptic again. That’s never good.”

“Stop acting like this is the worst thing you’ve ever done,” you call over your shoulder. “Just trust me.”

You both then walk over past the barns, past the field and into a bigger one.

The stables stretch across the far edge of the property, past the orchard and the tool shed. You lead him through a side gate, humming to yourself as the field opens wide, all green and golden under the late sun.

He slows when he sees the horses. “Wait. Wait, wait, wait.”

You don’t stop. You’re already halfway to the far stall, where your favorite mare stands flicking her tail and blinking in the light.

“Shouldn’t we be, like,” he gestures vaguely, “supervised?”

You grin. “Ur literallt the worst rule follower I’ve ever met. And now you care?”

He scowls and you don’t care. You’re too busy pulling the tack off the hook and slinging the saddle up over your horses back like it’s second nature.

“She’s the fastest one,” you say, patting the mare’s neck. “But she’s sweet. My uncle lets me ride her even though my mom would literally have a heart attack if she knew.”

Jungkook just stands there, arms crossed. “Cool. So you’re trying to kill me.”

“Oh please. You’ll be fine.” You hand him a saddle. “This one’s yours. Put it on the part over there.”

He stares at the equipment like it’s a calculus problem. “Where’s the.. on switch.”

You burst out laughing. “Oh my god, give me that.”

“No.. wait—” he steps back, clutching the saddle like it’s fragile. “I got it. Just.. uh.. don’t laugh.”

You absolutely laugh. But you try to do it quietly as he fumbles his way through the straps. He squints, bites his lip, swears under his breath once, and somehow manages to get it almost right.

You climb up on your horse like it’s nothing. He struggles, a lot, but eventually he manages to mount, but like, barely, and you smile sweetly across the few feet between you.

“Race to the end of the field,” you say, clicking your reins. “Winner gets the last rhubarb candy.”

He frowns. “Wait, what? Race?”

“Three.”

“Hold on—“

“Two.”

“Wait—”

“GO!”

You kick off and shoot forward like a bullet, and behind you, he yells. loud and frantic.

His horse takes off ten seconds late and crooked, and he’s holding on like a man who deeply regrets every choice he’s ever made. You laugh so loud it echoes through the trees, he screams something unholy.

The wind rushes past your ears, the ground shakes beneath your boots, and the air is thick with heat and grass and the sound of him cursing your name.

The sun’s on your shoulders. And your heart is fucking flying. and you squeal, actually squeal, all into the open feld as you nudge your horse a lil faster, just enough to feel her muscles stretch beneath you, hooves pounding the dirt in long, beautiful strides. Her mane flutters like a banner. Your braid’s coming loose. You don’t even care.

You’re not thinking about jungkook, not thinking about the shovel. not thinking about the fact that you definitely didn’t tell anyone you were doing this.

You’re just grinning like a fool, teeth out, eyes crinkled, yelling, “Wooooh!!” into the heat thick air as your horse charges toward the fence post at the far edge of the pasture.

Meanwhile Jungkook is flailing. Behind you, there’s a truly unholy noise, like a boy dying and being fucking reborn ,and when you glance back, you see him bouncing in the saddle, arms all wrong, knees locked, holding on for dear life. hes not even… steering. His horse is just following yours out of…peer pressure.

and then by the time you hit the edge of the field, you tug the reins, slowing to a stop, chest heaving with laughter. You swing your leg over the side and hop down with practiced ease, landing in the dust with a little skip.

He? Does not land. He nearly flies off in fact.

His horse jerks to a stop and he almost goes over the front, barely catching himself with one arm hooked around the horn. His hoodie falls halfway off his shoulder. His beanie’s gone. His eyes are wide, wild, …even alive.

You’re still giggling as you pet your horse’s neck, brushing your hair back with both hands. Your cheeks are pink. Your lips are parted. You’re flushed and radiant and glowing from the inside out, like the sun isnt just above you , its inside your damn ribcage.

You turn slightly to reach for the riens and your shorts ride up just a little. You tug them down without thinking, still breathless.

You don’t see the way Jungkook looks away. You don’t see the expression on his face, because you’ve never seen it before.

He’s still up there, panting, knees trembling from the ride, staring at you with something caught between awe and horror. Like he’s just seen God. Or, worse. like he’s just realized you might be the thing that breaks him.

Your laugh is still in the air.

He swallows. and for the first time since arriving at this stupid barn, Jungkook doesn’t want to leave.

He gets off and watches you take a seat by the tree nearby, you pat the spot next to you and he nods.

The horses settle a few feet away, lazily chewing hay from the old bales by the fence. The air is quieter now ,the rush of hooves and yelling has faded into rustling leaves, flies, the distant clang of something metal back by the barn.

Your now both sitting against the trunk of a tall oak, shadows dappled over your legs. You’ve got a water bottle wedged between your thighs, cheeks still pink, the last of a smile tugging at your lips. Jungkook’s beside you, legs stretched out, forearms resting on his knees, still catching his breath like he just survived a small war.

There’s a long pause before either of you speaks.

He finally turns his head, staring at you like you just turned into a mythical creature in front of him.

“…What the hell was that.”

You blink. “What?”

“That. That.” He gestures vaguely toward the field, chest still rising and falling a little too fast. “You cheated.”

You laugh, leaning your head back against the bark. “How did I cheat?”

“You’ve done that before. That was, like, trained…horse control.”

You grin. “I told you she was the fastest.”

He groans, tipping his head back. “Oh my god. I almost died.”

You nudge his shin with your boot. “You did great.”

“I screamed.”

“You did.”

He gives you a look. You giggle harder.

“I used to ride more when I was younger,” you add, a little softer now, gaze drifting toward your horse as she noses the hay with a lazy flick of her tail. “Not super often. My mom hated it. Thought I was gonna die every time I got near a saddle.”

He raises a brow. “So naturally… you became a secret fuckin’ equestrian.”

You shrug. “My uncle snuck me in. Said I had the posture for it.” a grin. “Also said I had a spine like a wild possum. I took it as a compliment.”

Jungkook huffs a soft laugh, almost involuntary. You sip from your water. “I’ve been volunteering here every summer since I was twelve. Just kinda stuck, I guess.”

He glances sideways. “You like it?”

You nod. “I love it.”

He doesn’t respond right away. Just watches you for a moment , how your lashes catch the sun, how your fingers pick idly at the grass, how relaxed you look out here like the world doesn’t ever touch you too hard.

It’s weird. The way you glow without trying.

“…Why?”

You blink. “Why what?”

“Why do you love it?”

You think for a second. Then smile to yourself. “I don’t know. Something about the way things are so… steady. Like, every summer, the same chickens. Same goats. Same ponies. Like the world could fall apart and they’d still be here screaming at the sunrise.”

He looks at the horses chewing hay like they might have wisdom in them.

“Also,” you add, “I get to boss teenagers around with a clipboard. That’s probably the best part.”

He snorts again. And for a second, it’s quiet again. The kind of quiet that feels like breathing, not silence. He leans his head back against the tree, lets his eyes flutter shut.

You’re watching your horse nibble hay like it’s the best thing shes eaten in the world. Jungkook’s rubbing his hands over his knees, head tilted back, eyes closed like he might fall asleep.

And then, “What’s your life like?” you ask quietly. “Back in the city.”

He opens one eye.

You glance at him. “Like. What do you do?”

He shifts a little, picks at a blade of grass. “Not much. I dropped out of college last year.”

You blink. “Why?”

He huffs a humorless breath. “Because I suck at school.”

You wait. He keeps talking.

“I don’t know. It was boring. And hard. I was always behind. I’d show up to class high or not at all. It just—didn’t work.”

You stay quiet. He keeps going, voice low now, like the words are slipping out before he can catch them. “Mostly I just went out. Parties. Clubs. Girls. I worked random jobs sometimes. Smoked a lot. Got in trouble. The usual.”

Your eyes widen a little. “You smoke?”

He grins at your face. “That’s the part you’re shocked about?”

“I just—cigarettes?”

“Cigs. Weed. Nic. All the things your mom would probably pray against.”

You giggle a little, curling your legs up beneath you. “What’s it like?”

“What?”

“Getting high.”

He raises a brow. “You’ve never?”

“Obviously not.”

He hums. “It’s great. You just..let go. Everything goes soft. Everything stops mattering for a little while.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. “That doesn’t sound nice.”

“It is,” he says, quiet. “When your brain never shuts up, it is.”

You look over at him. “Do you really like that?”

He furrows his brow. “Like what?”

“Not just smoking. All of it. The parties. The…whatever. That life.”

He opens his mouth. Pauses and glances at the horses, the tree branches, the sun slipping lower behind the fence.

“Of course I do.”

You tilt your head. “Do you really?”

His jaw clenches.

“I don’t think you do,” you say, voice soft but steady.

He doesn’t say anything.

Just stares out across the field.

And for a second, you can see it, some crack in him. the part that doesn’t know who he is outside of red cups and smoke and strangers touching him in dark rooms.

And then it’s gone when he pulls his sleeve over his hand and shrugs like it doesn’t matter. “Doesn’t really matter what I like.”

You smile, slow and secretive, and push yourself up off the ground.

Rub your palms together. Dust off the grass. Then hold your hand out toward him, palm up like you’re offering a deal.

“Come on.”

He looks up, blinking. “What?”

“I’ll show you where I go when my brain doesn’t shut up.”

You don’t wait for him to respond. You just turn, grab your horse’s reins, and start leading her back across the field.

He watches you for half a second too long before muttering, “Jesus,” under his breath and following after.

By the time you get back to the stables, the sun’s already starting to dip. You move fast, like you’ve done this a hundred times. tying the lead, brushing sweat off her coat, refilling the feed. Jungkook struggles with his horse again but eventually manages to get the saddle off without breaking anything.

You glance at the barn clock. “C’mon. We can still make it.”

He frowns. “Make what?”

You’re already jogging ahead. Inside the barn, your uncle is doing the register. Everyone’s clustered around in a loose half circle, allergic boy’s sneezing into his sleeve, hay girl’s chewing on a pen, and your uncle’s talking in his usual deep, no nonsense voice.

You and Jungkook slip in just in time. Uncle glances up. Eyes cut straight to Jungkook. Doesn’t say anything yet. jus keeps reading out the rules like they’re brand new.

“Quiet hours start at ten. No guests in the hostel. No fires, no drinking, no stupid. Got it?”

Jungkooks jaw ticks. Your uncles still staring at him.” Lights out by midnight,” your uncle finishes. “We start early tomorrow. Go get some sleep.”

Everyone starts to scatter.

You grab Jungkook’s sleeve before he can vanish with the rest of them. He stumbles a bit as you drag him toward the exit. “Wait—are we allowed—?”

“God,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. “Why are you so paranoid?”

He frowns. “Because every time you say ‘trust me,’ I end up sweating, bruised, or traumatised.”

“That’s called living. Don’t you wanna have a little fun?”

“Your idea of fun was launching me off a horse.”

You smirk. “You’re mad you couldn’t handle the speed.”

He mutters something under his breath. You don’t ask what it is. At the fence, you push open the old creaky gate and wave him through like a gentleman. He hesitates, brow furrowed.

“…Where are we going?”

You glance over your shoulder. “The creek.”

“The creek?” He stops. “What, like—with snakes?”

You shrug. “That’s what makes it fun.”

“What—”

“C’mon. Youll like it. I promise.”

He raises a brow. “Not more than weed.”

You grin. “I’m not promising more than weed. Just… something different.”

He’s still suspicious, but he follows.Because of course he does. As you hike down the hill past the tall grass and the old fencepost, he mutters, “You know I’ve been swimming before, right?”

“Yeah. But I bet it was in one of those sad little chlorinated hotel pools.”

…

“True.”

[rpwprpwprpwprw]

i’m just sharing some sweet tweets about min yoongi (guinho as we call him here) and… i’ve been praying for god to protect his soul, keep him this gentle, this sweet, passionate and honest.

i keep missing him more and more

[luvvjayk]

jungkook, in every room you touch.

✎ by rie 𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ ☾

pairing : jungkook x reader

genre : domestic intimacy, established relationship

Synopsis : what it feels like to be loved by someone who doesn’t always say it — but shows it in every room you walk through together. soft. quiet. a little obsessive.

masterlist

✦ the rooms he loves you in

in the kitchen:

You’re barefoot, draped in Jungkook’s favorite oversized shirt, the one he insists is yours now, its fabric soft and worn, carrying the faint scent of his cologne. You’re at the stove, wrestling with a spatula, trying not to burn the eggs. The morning’s warm, light spilling in, and you’re half asleep, moving slow, a little clumsy, but wrapped in a quiet contentment knowing he’s close.

Jungkook leans against the counter, hair messy from sleep, a black hoodie making him look softer than ever. His eyes are fixed on you, warm and gentle, like you’re the only thing worth seeing in the world. He doesn’t speak, just watches, lips curving into a small, private smile, like he’s holding onto every second of this simple moment. To him, you’re not just cooking, you’re a quiet magic, every gesture pulling him closer.

He steps near, and you feel the brush of his fingers against your lower back, so light it sends a shiver through you. He’s reaching for a mug, but it’s just an excuse, you both know it. His touch stays, warm and intentional, and your breath catches, a spark igniting in your chest. He lingers, shoulder grazing yours as he pours coffee he won’t sip, too busy stealing glances at you.

“Gonna burn those,” he teases, voice low, still rough with sleep, but there’s a playful warmth in it, like he loves your chaos. You groan, scraping the eggs onto a plate, and he laughs, a soft sound that wraps around you like a warm breeze. Then, without warning, he leans down, lips pressing to your bare shoulder, slow and tender, like he’s savoring the moment. Your pulse races, and he hums a melody, a song you played days ago, one you thought he hadn’t noticed. But he did. He always does.

“Taste this,” you say, nudging your tea toward him, your voice shaky from his closeness. His fingers brush yours as he takes the mug, the touch like a whisper against your skin, sending warmth through you. He sips, nose scrunching like it’s awful.

“Poison,” he murmurs, but his eyes sparkle, and he sets the mug down so carefully, like it’s precious because it’s yours. You laugh, and his gaze softens, like your joy is his favorite sound. “You’re so pretty when you laugh,” he says, almost to himself, and your cheeks burn, a glow spreading through you.

You turn back to the stove, flustered, but he’s still there, watching with that quiet devotion, like you’re the reason the morning feels alive. You move together effortlessly, you reach for sugar, he’s already handing it to you; you drop a spoon, he’s there, picking it up, fingers grazing yours. It’s not perfect, but it’s yours, every small moment a silent vow.

Sometimes, you catch him staring when you’re not looking, his eyes tracing your smile, the way you tuck your hair back. His love is in the small things: the way he brushes a crumb from your cheek, his thumb lingering, making your pulse quicken; the way he stands close, his warmth a quiet promise. You’ll turn and find him watching, like he’s afraid to miss a single second of you. You pretend not to notice, but the glow in your chest says you do.

in the car:

Jungkook drives with one hand, the other always finding you, like you’re a part of him he can’t let go. Today, his fingers lace through yours over the gearshift, his thumb brushing your knuckles in a rhythm that makes your chest hum. The window’s down, wind tangling your hair, but you don’t mind, and neither does he. The air smells of summer, and the radio hums a song you both know, soft and familiar.

He doesn’t talk much when he drives, but his silence is full of you. His fingers tighten when you shift, his eyes flick to you at every stoplight, like he’s making sure you’re still there, still his. You skip through songs, landing on one that makes you smile, and he hums along, always the second verse, never the first or last. You asked once, half laughing, why he does that, but he just grinned, eyes crinkling, like it’s a secret he’s saving for you. You don’t push, because the way he hums, low and warm, makes your chest tighten, like he’s singing just for you.

The sun’s dipping low, painting your skin in golden light, and he glances over, lingering too long, his gaze soft and unguarded. “You’re beautiful like this,” he murmurs, like it slipped out, like he couldn’t hold it in. Your breath catches, cheeks warming, and you look away, but you can feel his smile, bright and quiet. His hand stays on yours, thumb tracing patterns, each touch a spark that makes your pulse dance.

You point out a cloud shaped like a star, and he chuckles, his thumb brushing your wrist, sending a shiver through you. You laugh at a misspelled sign, and he shakes his head, lips curving, like your joy is his favorite thing. It’s not about where you’re going, it’s about this, the moments between, where his hand holds yours, where the silence feels like a love song.

Sometimes, he’ll sing a line from a song you didn’t know he loved, his voice soft and low, and you lean closer, letting it wrap around you like a warm embrace. It’s not a show, just a piece of him he’s sharing, and it makes your chest glow, your pulse quicken with

how much you adore him. Every drive is a collection of these moments, small but endless, his touch making the world feel softer, brighter.

in the bedroom:

The bedroom is your sanctuary, soft and quiet, just you and him tangled in sheets, laughter still warm from a silly moment you’ve already forgotten. A slow song drifts from another room, its melody wrapping you both in a gentle haze. Jungkook’s fingers trace your spine, slow and careful, like he’s mapping every curve of you, committing you to memory. You’re close, cheek pressed to his chest, his heartbeat steady, a rhythm that makes your whole body hum.

He kisses your neck, tender and unhurried, his lips lingering like he’s savoring every second of you. It’s not rushed, just soft, like he’s afraid you’ll fade if he moves too fast. You turn to face him, and he exhales, a quiet sound that feels like a confession. His eyes hold you, dark and warm, making your breath catch with the weight of his gaze. “You’re everything,” he whispers, like it’s a truth he’s been carrying too long, and your chest tightens, overwhelmed by how much he means it.

You brush a strand of hair from his face, and he leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut, like your hand is his anchor. It’s a small moment, but it feels like the world, like you’re holding his heart, and it’s beating just for you. He doesn’t say I love you, doesn’t say stay, just presses his forehead to yours, his breath warm against your lips, and the quiet says it all.

You fall asleep tangled, his arm draped over you, his breath soft against your shoulder. When you wake, he’s still there, holding you like he’s never let go, like he never will. These nights are your haven, where he’s just yours, open and unguarded, every touch a promise. You’ve spent countless nights like this, wrapped in each other, every breath a shared secret, every glance a vow.

Sometimes, you wake to find him watching you, eyes soft and warm, like you’re a dream he’s afraid to lose. “What?” you murmur, voice thick with sleep, and he just smiles, pulling you closer, kissing your forehead like it’s enough. And it is. It’s his way of saying everything he feels, and it makes your chest glow, your pulse race with how much you love him.

at parties:

He doesn’t cling, doesn’t hover, but he’s always there, eyes on you like you’re the only star in a crowded sky. The party’s loud, music and laughter swirling, but he’s your quiet anchor, leaning against a wall, drink in hand, watching you like you’re his favorite melody. You catch his gaze, and he smirks, lifting his glass in a silent I see you. Your breath catches, a warmth blooming in your chest, but you play it cool, even as his stare sets you alight.

When someone laughs too close, their voice too loud in your ear, he’s there, arm slipping around your waist like it’s always belonged there. “Having fun?” he murmurs, voice low, just for you, his breath brushing your ear. Your pulse quickens, and you nod, leaning into him, feeling the steady warmth of his body. He presses a kiss behind your ear, soft and private, not for the crowd, just for you. It’s his way of saying mine, and it makes your chest hum, your skin tingle with how much you want him.

He’s not possessive, not in a heavy way. It’s softer, like you’re a piece of his heart he’s guarding with every glance. You move through the crowd, and he’s never far, his eyes keeping you close, making you feel safe, cherished. You laugh with friends, and he watches, his smile soft, like your happiness is his own.

Sometimes, when the music slows, he pulls you to a quiet corner, his hand finding yours, tugging you close. He sways with you, not quite dancing, but close enough, his arms around you, lips brushing your temple. Your chest tightens, and you rest your head against his, feeling his heartbeat, steady and sure. It’s not about the party, it’s about you, about the way you fit together, about the way he looks at you like you’re his entire world.

on bad days:

When you fall apart, he’s there, gathering you without a word. You’re a mess, tears stinging, and he pulls his hoodie over your head, the fabric warm, smelling of him. Your fingers clutch his shirt, like he’s the only thing holding you together. He doesn’t ask what’s wrong, doesn’t try to fix it with empty words. He just holds you, steady and warm, letting you break without judgment.

He lies beside you, breathing even, hand on your back, tracing slow circles, a rhythm you can follow when the world feels too heavy. Your breath hitches, and he pulls you closer, his arms a safe haven, his warmth sinking into you. “Breathe,” he whispers, lips against your shoulder, soft and grounding. Your chest glows, not from pain but from the way he holds you, like you’re his to protect. And you breathe, because he’s there, because he makes it feel possible.

He stays, quiet and unwavering, his presence a light in the dark. He makes you tea, knowing you won’t drink it, just so you have something to hold, something to ground you. He sits with you, letting you lean into him, letting you cry or be silent, whatever you need. His love is in the way he stays, in the way he doesn’t flinch, in the way he looks at you like you’re still whole, even when you feel shattered.

These days show his heart most clearly, the way he loves you without conditions, without expecting you to be anything but you. It’s in the way he tucks your hair behind your ear, the way he kisses your forehead when you’re too tired to speak, the way he holds you until the world feels softer, safer.

Jungkook’s love is a gentle melody, woven through every room you share, every touch, every glance. He doesn’t say I love you often, but you feel it in the way his hand finds yours, the way his eyes light up when you smile. It’s in the mornings when he watches you fumble with breakfast, his laughter soft and warm, making your chest glow. It’s in the drives where his fingers lace through yours, his touch a promise that makes your pulse dance. It’s in the nights when he holds you close, his breath a rhythm that lulls you to sleep.

His love is in the small things: the way he brushes hair from your face, his touch so gentle it makes your breath catch; the way he hums your favorite song, like it’s a secret he’s kept for you; the way he stays when you’re falling apart, his arms a home you didn’t know you needed. It’s not loud, not grand, but it’s everything, a love so deep it makes your chest hum, your skin tingle with every moment.

Wherever you go, Jungkook is there, his love etched into every corner of your life. It’s in the way he looks at you, like you’re his beginning and end, like you’re the song he’ll never stop singing. It’s in the way he holds you, like you’re a treasure he’ll guard forever. Your breath catches, your pulse races, because this love, this quiet, steady, glowing love, is yours, and it feels like forever.

authors's note :

i just know this is how jungkook would love. not loudly, not all at once but in every small, unspoken thing. the kind of love that lingers.

this was my first fic i wrote with no intensions of posting but i had to if you felt anything reading this reblog, heart it ,it would mean a lot to me!! or drop me a rec or idea to spiral into next. i’d love to write more softness like this. thanks for reading 🤍 drop a 💌 in the comments to be added in my taglist!

— rie ♡₊˚.

© luvvjayk 2025 · all rights reserved

[starboy-97]

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hobi’s on-stage personas are known and adored by millions. whatever you’re looking for, he can be it. happy-go-lucky, cool and edgy, smooth and sensual. but for all the faces jung hoseok shows the world, it’s hard for most people to grasp who he really is underneath it all.

but you? you know him. not as j-hope or hobi or jay. to you, he’s just your hoseok.

for him, that’s the biggest relief of all.

as he walks in his mask drops, his persona of the day left at the door. all he has to be is himself, and knowing that is what brings him peace.

of course, every face he shows ARMY is his own. on stage he's still him, just, amplified. he loves to perform, to bring joy and entertain, to give his all and more for army.

having said that, being able to come home and dial it down, to exist without performing, to relax into your presence, that’s what he looks forward to every day.

you don’t treat him like a superstar, you treat him like a person, like your person.

you wait up for him, greeting him at the door with a sleepy smile and warm arms. you ask about his day, whether it was full of high-energy rehearsals or just meetings and errands. you show the same gentle interest no matter what, captivated by the mundane and the glamour all the same.

of course, you’re amazed by him. his talent, his drive, is like nothing you’ve ever seen. even so, you see beyond all of that. you see him.

and that’s what matters most.

he can go out and be cheered, praised, adored by the world, but only you make him feel human. only you give him the comfort, the peace, the normalcy that he craves. you are his home. his safety zone.

somewhere along the way, he realized that’s all he really needs.

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