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yuzukult · 3 years

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dissonance (m) || jjk & reader

title: dissonance pairing: jeon jungkook x reader genre: angst, fluff, smut, rockstar!jungkook, gradstudent!reader wc: 19.4k summary: something that first seems out of reach becomes a reality for him. screaming adoring fans, billboards with him and his band plastered on it, and touring across the globe with venues sold out. he has everything... but all he's missing is you. warnings: explicit protected sex, vulgar language, sexual innuendos, oral sex (female receiving) -- please let me know if i’m missing anything else! a/n: um. oh my god. how did i plan for like 10.0k and ended up with 19.4k, i’ll never know. hopefully this isn’t boring!! :D i’d also like to thank all the beta readers in @/ficscafe discord, and especially @masterninjacow & @latetaektalk (before the smut ofc... i didn’t even write it until like 1hr ago), @koocycle, @cheolbooluvr, @ddaechwita, and @jayhopely!! pray i didn’t forget to mention any of the big beta readers because honestly there was a lot LOL. um. enjoy. yeah.

p.s. if there’s errors, i don’t even know if i want you to tell me bc this shit is way too long and makes both my laptop and phone lag FDJKSALFJA LMAO

He loves it here. It’s his dream to be here, on the stage, with the feeling of the music rumbling underneath the soles of his chunky boots, with the sea of fans screaming and hollering out his name, with his self-produced songs booming through the speakers of the venue while his band stands by his side, just as passionate for this as he is.

It’s his dream; he reiterates this constantly as a reminder that this isn’t something everyone gets the chance to breathe the opportunity of. He’s been manifesting this scenario his entire life, wishing and praying to the potential Gods to help make his aspirations become a reality. He’d work his ass off to make ends meet, be able to afford the necessities all while chasing this goal that many claimed to be unrealistic or unattainable. But he’s here right now, supporters that flood the building to the brim for a concert that’s been sold out in thirty cities so far. He has everything he could ever want. Girls, money, music…

But why does he feel like there’s something missing?

Another pair of panties gets thrown at the toes of his boots—it’s probably the sixth one that night but he’s grown used to this already. In some performances, girls would throw themselves at his feet instead of undergarments, yelling at the top of their lungs so ferociously that the security guards had to hold them back in fear of what they were capable of. And sure, if he really wanted to, he could ask them out or invite them back to his hotel room for a quick bang, and it was what he’d been doing for the first couple years, and maybe they’d make him feel a little less like this.

It doesn’t quite hit the same way anymore.

He’s left with this feeling of emptiness when he says his goodbyes and shuts the door behind them; there’s a gap in his chest like he’s forgotten something, yearning for it to be filled but those girls aren’t the ones to do it. His dreams used to be able to—but what are accomplished dreams when you have no one to share them with?

His friends/band mates are great, supportive and understanding, he’s admitted that he’s gotten lucky in that department, but part of him believes that it’s not friendship he’s lacking.

It’s love.

It sounds sappy to the ears of strangers, especially because ideally, you’re not supposed to depend on love to have that stuffed-to-the-brim emotion in your chest, to feel complete and whole because a pretty person fell for you and vice versa. But to Jungkook, being in love had been something he thought he could toss under the rug for another day when he’d given up the girls he'd been infatuated with for this unobtainable aspiration, yet instead, he finds himself back in the same spot years later. Missing a lost sentiment he had to let go to make a dream come true.

He loved the chase—he’s a hopeless romantic kind-of-guy. After all, how would all of his songs be so full of raw emotion? It’s because Jungkook lives it—or well, lived it because everything he knew about love had been left on a shelf to collect dust. He’d deserted the last one back in his hometown. And he’d try to convince himself that he didn’t need someone, but he’s grown… lonely.

And quite frankly, finding someone genuine has proven to be difficult.

Don’t mention Tinder, Jungkook has already tried that. It promptly made headlines the moment he logged into that app with a selfie he’s never used before, and still then people actually thought he was catfishing, and wasn’t the real Jeon Jungkook. He should’ve known. But in all fairness, Jungkook isn’t much of a ‘future thinker’.

Then there was trying to date a staff member—worst idea yet. That noona ended up pissed at him when he realized that this wasn’t what he wanted (he’d learn she was quite the control freak) and she flipped shit to the point that his managers fired her on the spot, then informed the security that she was on the “do not enter” list.

After that, Jungkook just thought maybe he was going about this wrong.

Maybe women weren’t actually of his interest.

Possibly, he was into men.

So, he tried. He ventured out a little, got a little taste here and there. Jungkook even found someone who fit him perfectly. His name? Kim Hyunwoo.

God, Kim Hyunwoo was a very gorgeous man.

Hyunwoo was tall, lean, with black hair that matched the midnight sky. His jawline was sharp without the need of Photoshop, skin so smooth that it felt like butter underneath his fingertips, and had a smile that was so fucking bright, you’d see it from lightyears away. He’s always got that hooded sultry gaze like he’s in the middle of a photoshoot; chin up, sleepy eyes, and slightly parted lips, Jungkook was confused whether his boyfriend was just standing beside him or modelling for the camera. Hyunwoo also had this deep, husky voice that swooned all the girls he’d encountered, the majority practically begging for his phone number, but he was simply into boys. Jungkook thought he was lucky to even be able to snag up a guy like him in the first place. He had a lot of competition, apparently.

It worked out for a little while, Jungkook confesses, because Hyunwoo was overall a great boyfriend. He looked out for Jungkook, treated him well and they shared the same interests.

But… that was the problem.

They got along very well. As if they were best friends.

He found himself getting a bit uncomfortable when things got a little too serious—don’t get him wrong though, he wasn’t embarrassed to be dating a guy. Hyunwoo was the definition of a model with all those sharp facial features. He’d even been stopped and recruited several times during their dates, and truthfully, it made Jungkook feel a little awkward. He was the celebrity here, yet standing beside Hyunwoo only made him feel small.

And in all honesty, he shouldn’t feel this way about the success of his significant other. But it wasn’t even just that. He found himself unable to pass first base with the guy—something about the action itself made him feel… unnerving. But he’s attracted to Hyunwoo. So why can’t he push himself to kiss him?

Jungkook learns that maybe he finds men appealing but he couldn’t have anything more than a friendship with them.

So, he dove head first back into the dating game. Met girls all over during his tour stops; he ran into a foreigner named Lily, a gorgeous girl with pretty blonde hair and pale skin. But they didn’t click. He oddly felt like they weren’t ever on the same page. Then he went to dinner with a gal named—okay. He’d forgotten her name. But the way her dress hugged her ass made his mind go blank, so could he really be blamed? (The answer is yes.) Oh! What about that girl whose name is similar to a hurricane? She had long, dark hair that matched her lengthy lashes and fluttered over her supple cheeks when she sucked his—

Nonetheless, it was a dud, again. He’s still lonely, he sadly confesses, but all of this is too much for him to process. He’s tired of getting his heart broken. He’s exhausted from meeting girls who first claimed that they’re not obsessed then actually are. He’s worn out of the ones who don’t love him for him, but love him for his fame.

Jungkook just wants to be loved for being… Jungkook.

And when he encounters you, some graduate student who spends majority of her days in between the activities of your face dug into a textbook or eyes glued onto a computer screen, he thinks he’s back to where he was before this lifestyle. Jungkook finds himself swooning, desperately wishing for your touch and kisses, but there’s just one thing he doesn’t quite know.

Do you like Jungkook for Jungkook? Or do you like the ideal version of him that sings on stage, tossing off his shirt with his abs flexing while the crowd screams his name once more, all while the veins in his neck pop when he reaches that high note?

Or do you like Jungkook, the one who still doesn’t understand the difference between an orange and clementine, the one who still has trouble knowing when a potato is thoroughly cooked, and why his socks came out of the wash in this weird pinky shade when they definitely went in as white.

So… which is it? Which Jungkook are you interested in?

Jungkook recalls the first meeting so vividly. People always call their initial brush of contact with the person they have feelings for a “meet-cute” (he learns this from his bandmate Jimin) but truthfully, he’s not sure what to call yours.

For one, you’re a very nice person. But he caught you in a bad situation when he landed his eyes on you for the first time; hair disheveled, frantic movements and heavy breaths, you didn’t seem rather… sane. In fact, he actually thought you were one of those psycho fans, waiting inside of the coffee shop, ready to pounce on him and ask for kisses, an autograph, and a hand in marriage, possibly.

Albeit when he spills his coffee onto you (purely accidental, not that he was scared of you or anything), he truly wasn’t sure how to react.

Well, unexpectedly, you blew.

Like the result of a ticking time bomb.

You yelled at him in the middle of that coffee shop (he’s not sure if he could ever show face there ever again)—veins popping along the side of your neck with a furrow of your brows, mouth constantly moving with sharp words that spat out of it. He was startled, completely baffled as to how you were able to formulate such… creative insults.

It ranged from being called a “dumbass with a head that's so big you’d expect it to at least have some knowledge in it, but really it’s just hollow,” to how he should“ go get prescribed lenses because it seems like you’re fucking blind as shit.” Honestly, there were definitely worse ones but he only revealed those two since his feelings might get hurt if he revisited the others.

Although seeing you now, you’re not that person. It was horrible timing, he learns later on, because you actually have the warmest heart he’s ever encountered. You’re beaming with smiles, radiating nothing but positivity on your routes, and when Jungkook has a rough day, just unlocking his phone to see your daily texts is enough to do it for him.

He’s so embarrassed to admit he’s got a crush on you. This simple, casual girl who knows who he is yet doesn’t treat him less than or better than everyone else just because of his career.

But he still has his doubts.

He worries, oftentimes his thoughts seem to stray away from what they’re supposed to be, constantly overthinking all the possibilities of what may happen if the two of you officially got together. He ponders about the what ifs, like how would you even react when this big time celebrity tells you that he has been harboring these feelings for you for months, or if it turns out this entire time, you’ve been devising a plan to date him for his fame and money.

Or, his imagination could be running wild and you would do neither, other than respond surprisingly to his confession.

Nonetheless, he’s still scared. Jungkook has been on so many dates, “broken” so many hearts because they broke his by holding up a facade, by making him feel like they wanted him. And he’s tired, exhausted like he’s run a marathon without the end in sight, when all he’s done is search for someone to love and to love him.

And when he finally gets to know you, the you that wears those baby blue overalls stained with smears of different shades of primary colors from helping your sister paint her nursery room for her soon-to-be-arriving daughter aka your niece, he learns what it feels like to be in love for another time. “You never know what color she likes,” he recalls you saying over a Facetime call, waving around a brush with the ends drenched in a canary yellow, but your pillowy cheeks have marks of blue on them. “Or they. He. Whatever that kid wants to go by later on. So instead, I’m painting her a portrait.”

“I didn’t know you were a painter,” he retorted, but you shrugged as you propped the phone onto a tin-plated steel paint can. “I thought you said you were going to school to become a scientist.”

“Scientists are allowed to have hobbies, Jeon Jungkook.”

Jungkook remembers a laugh effortlessly slipping from his lips, something you’re able to spill out of him with ease, and it’s partially the reason why he sticks by you so often. After he offered to pay for dinner to make up for the coffee spill (which you gladly took simply because you’re a poor grad student), he met with you yet again, but this time, you’re more welcoming when you’re in a better mood (you tell him “obviously” when he mentions this in the future), and that warm smile stretching from cheek to cheek is enough to lure him into the idea of love once more.

“What’s up with you?” Jimin queries, snapping Jungkook out of his trance.

He doesn’t realize it, but he’s lost in his thoughts as usual. On the leather loveseat in the living room of the shared condo he lives in with his bandmates, he huffs out a heavy breath, head thrown back. “I’m just…”

“Thinkin’ ‘bout that girl again?” he asks, but this time with a drink in his hand from the fridge. He pops the can open, a sizzle of the soda hissing through the opening as he brings it up to his lips. “Why don’t you just fucking date her if you’re so into her? I mean, yeah, she ain’t exactly your type, but you’re fucking Jeon Jungkook for god’s sake. She’s gonna wanna date you.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “That’s not the point, Jimin.”

“Then what is?” Jimin shoots back, raising a brow questioningly. “You could get any girl, including her. What's going on with you?”

Jungkook doesn’t like to talk about these things with his members. It’s nothing personal—they just have different perspectives when it comes to things like these. They love the idea of temporary; girls coming and going, barely even staying within the late hours. By the time they’re stumbling out of their apartment, they’re struggling to slide back into the heels they wore for the night out when the sun hasn’t even risen yet. His friends love that, they favor the fact that the girls they encounter never come with any baggage because they never stay long enough for them to unload it.

They’re not hopeless romantics like Jungkook—it’s why they’re never the ones to dip into the lyrics of the song, it’s only him writing it. They don’t have the passion for love like he does. When they see the sunrise, they think of the walk-of-shame, staggering out of the homes of the women they slept with after a show, but when Jungkook sees the sunrise, he thinks of the way your hair blows in the direction of the wind when you’re snuggling into the scarf that wraps around your neck. How your nose twitches at the feeling of the brisk air smacking against your skin, shoulders raising before bouncing to regain the warmth in your coat. He’s reminded of the way your fingers tap against the paper cup with steam coming out of the opening, waving him off about how you have class in a couple minutes and you don’t have time to hear his story about the performance he had just a couple hours before.

“Ugh,” he groans, hopping up from his seat. “Listen, I don’t wanna talk about it. We’re just friends, alright? Nothing more.”

Jimin has his arms out, clicking his tongue irritably. “Aye, come on. You’re not actually upset because I said that, are you? Seriously though. You wanna get in her pants, it’s easy, you just—”

“I don’t wanna just get in her pants, Jimin, I wanna date her.”

“Alright, well, that shouldn’t be a problem either.”

Jungkook scoffs. “You don’t get it, do you?” His bandmate only furrows his brows in confusion as a response. “I want her to date me because she likes me for me, not because I’m some celebrity in a famous band.”

Jimin sighs, placing his drink onto the counter. He has his hands on his hips, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “Then why won’t you talk to her instead of moping around like some sad puppy all day in our apartment? You realize that negativity is contagious, right?” Jimin shakes his head. “We care about you, okay? And we want you to be happy. I’ll never understand what you want right now because I’m not looking for a serious relationship. But I’ll help you if you need me to.” Help with what? Thanks for nothing.

Annoyed, he grabs his jacket from the coat rack, slinging it over his shoulders and sliding his arms into the sleeves. He needs air, needs space from the guys, because although he loves them dearly, he feels like the odd one out these days.

The first person he could think of contacting is you, and of course it is because all this revolves around you. Then again, you’re on shift tonight. But at the same time, you have to welcome customers, don’t you?

Or so, he thought.

If your stare had lasers, he’d be melting right now.

“What are you even doing here?” you hiss as Jungkook grins cheekily while adjusting the black baseball cap on his head. Did he really think he could hide his identity behind a flimsy jacket and some old ass hat? How stupid was he? “And why are you dressed like that?”

“It’s a disguise.”

“And that’s the best you could do? Come on, Jeon. You could do better than that. I thought you had a high IQ.”

“I never said that.”

“Are you sure?”

“I may have mentioned it once.”

“Well, once more than I have ever spoken about my IQ.”

He can’t help but let out a breathy laugh, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m a rockstar now, I think a high IQ is the least of my worries. Plus, no one suspects a thing. I just look like some guy coming to grab a cup of coffee.”

“At 11:32 pm.” You quirk a brow. “You look more like a creeper than ‘some guy,’ Jeon.”

“It’s a 24-hour cafe,” he attempts to justify, and you only roll your eyes.

There’s something about you that’s so simple, yet at the same time makes you even more beautiful than usual. Is it the way your hair is messily tied in a low bun with flyaways that cover your face? Or is it how cutely you scrunch up your nose when your hair brushes over it, shaking your head to get it out of your field of vision? Maybe it’s how the space between your brows crinkle in concentration when you’re tapping orders into the iPad register, trying your best to accommodate to the system that seems to update every couple weeks with a new layout.

Jungkook leans over the counter, some funky latte you whipped up from the specials menu in his hand. “I was feeling a bit… off today. Wanted to see you.”

“Mhm,” you hum, wiping down the caps of the syrups that line the shelves. “Not sure what I could provide for you Jeon. But what’s up with you?”

He chews on his bottom lip anxiously. Is today the day? The day he finally professes his true feelings for you?

Jungkook tests the waters. “I, uh, got into a little argument with Jimin.”

You click your tongue, the same way Jimin did earlier in the apartment. “Why do you keep fighting with my favorite member of your band?”

“I thought I was the favorite.”

“Have you seen his ass?”

Jungkook tilts his head. “You’re not even sure what my band members look like, do you?”

Nose scrunching up, you do an arm swing, feigning disappointment from being caught in your lies. “Oh, darn. How’d you figure that out?”

He lets out a hearty laugh from his chest, warm and full of elation like he always does when he’s with you. For a moment, he doesn’t remember his fame, he forgets the crazy fans, the surfeit of stages he performs on—he just lives in the simplicity of this moment, the calmness before every storm of his shows, and gets to bask in the normal things about life. How the front of your brows dip when you’re using the little ounce cup to measure how much of those weird, sticky, fruity syrups to add into the drinks the customers’ order is probably his most favorite moment to swim in. He loves that you’re able to make him feel alive in this way, a different kind of alive in comparison to when his feet are on the stage of a venue, mic stand in hand while he sings his heart out because instead, he’s got his heart in the palm of his own hands, reaching it out to you.

“Seriously though, maybe you should get along with your boys,” you state firmly, wiping down the counters in unison. “They’re not just your bandmates or your roommates. They’re your best friends; you guys have come a long way from where you started. Don’t turn your backs on them just because you’re slightly annoyed.”

He sighs, rubbing the round of his cap discontentedly. Jungkook knows where you’re coming from, but he hasn’t exactly been entirely honest with you when it comes to why he got upset with the guys because well… it’ll expose this stupid little crush he has on you. “I know that. They just… they just don’t get me sometimes, you know?”

“That’s no excuse,” you quip, tossing the rag into the sink. “You sit down and talk like grown adults. Communicate. Converse until it gets through all of your heads. Don’t fight.”

Jungkook smiles. Again. He’s so infatuated that he knows he’s far gone now when it has to do with you. “The guys would love you.”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t love them.”

With a chuckle, he adjusts himself by leaning against the counter. “I know. You’ve got that thing where you hate irresponsible people. They drink, party, get involved with girls then break their hearts—they’re not exactly the kind of personalities you love to associate yourself with. But forgetting all of that, as friends, they’re great people, and I think you guys would get along.”

“We have different morals.”

“They’re just people, they’re allowed to enjoy themselves.”

“So why do you get upset when they have one-night stands?”

Frozen, Jungkook remains in the spot he’s in, almost like his feet are rooted into the broken tiles of the coffee shop. How did you even figure that out? Was he that obvious? He didn’t think he was, especially since he’s been manually trying his best to control what he says when it has to do with the topic of dating. “I… I don’t get upset.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, come on, Jeon. I hear the way you talk about them. Your voice raises a couple of decibels, your ears get all red, and your jaw clenches. Trust me, I notice. And it’s fine that you get upset, but that doesn’t mean that it’s just them that don’t understand you, but vice versa.”

Were you actually siding with guys you’ve never even met, let alone googled?

“Are you really taking their stance on this?”

“I mean, you can’t possibly think you’re perfect, right?”

His jaw tightens and ears grow heated. He takes a deep breath for a moment before speaking; Jungkook doesn’t get mad at you, at least, not really, but today is slightly different from your other encounters because he came to you to ditch those guys, only for you to bring up the same exact thing? Not the right time.

“It’s not that I think that I’m perfect—”

“So why can’t you try putting yourself into their shoes and see how they’re feeling? They’re also trying to understand you. I mean—you don’t have to tell me that you’re not perfect. You’re a rockstar, but that doesn’t mean you’re smart enough to decide that wearing all black in a public setting isn’t a good idea because I’ve already heard three separate side conversations of girls asking if it ‘really is Jeon Jungkook underneath that black dad hat with a prada logo’—”

Jungkook cowers. “What?”

You sigh. “You should go.”

“I wanted to see you.”

“Yeah, well, I wanna see the Jonas Brothers perform but I’m in grad school, a broke ass bitch, and using every free minute I have to work at this goddamn fucking café.” Then you’re giving him that ‘that sucks’ look he’s all too familiar with. “You can see me when I’m studying at the library. Nobody who listens to heavy rock music studies there on a Sunday afternoon.”

“It’s not—”

You wave your hand dismissively at him. “Yeah, yeah, just go.”

This is the twelfth time Jungkook has invited you to a concert of his.

And it’s the twelfth time you don’t come.

It’s not like you give him empty promises either; you make it abundantly clear that the chances of you ever going is slimmer than 0.4%. How do you come up with that particular number? He’s not exactly sure, but he accepts the small percentage with a little glimmer of hope, nonetheless.

“Tae, I need you to help me with my guitar amp.”

“Isn’t that what the staff is for?” Yoongi narrows his eyes at his bandmate and Taehyung immediately places down his Starbucks mocha frappuccino on the stool before rushing over to help him.

Jungkook wishes you were here. This was quite literally the ‘calm before the storm,’ and seeing your pretty face and soothing voice would give him the encouragement to perform on stage, but he knows you’re not the type to come see a band that you’re not interested in.

He sort of hopes you were interested in him, but he digresses.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” Namjoon asks, helping tune one of the electric guitars as he sits comfortably on one of the amps. “I thought you guys were good. Why doesn’t she come?”

“She’s not his girlfriend,” Jimin chimes in, walking on stage. He’s got his earpiece hung over the curve of his ear, and adjusting the mic stand to his height afterwards. “Apparently, Jungkook is a bit hesitant about asking her out.”

Taehyung jolts his head at the younger male. “Why the fuck you scared for? You’re the lead singer of a rock band. You’re fucking racking with money, pussy is literally lining outside your fucking door, and you’ve probably got a big dick—”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Yoongi calls out, furrowing his brows at the kid, “don’t be talking about Jungkook’s dick like that, what the fuck?”

Jimin looks at Yoongi with a confused expression. “Have you seen his fucking dong?”

“Alright,” Namjoon gets up from his seat, propping the guitar back on its stand. “Let’s… How about we not talk about our friend’s genitals, and try helping him with his girl problem instead?”

Immediately, Jungkook waves his hands in dismissal. “No, it’s fine, seriously—“

Namjoon raises his palm up to halt the younger male. “Come on. We may have different perspectives in life, but tell us seriously how you’re feeling and we’ll figure it out together.”

“I just,” he sighs, running his fingers through his already disheveled hair. “I wanna ask her out, but I don’t know if I wanna do this because… she’s great but—“

“You think she’s only into the idea that you’re a celebrity,” Yoongi interjects, nodding his head as if he’s seen it before. “I used to date this girl—I’ve never introduced you guys to her before,” he’s got a finger put down with every word that describes her, “Beautiful. Tall. Sweet. Kind. But she loved that we were up and coming at the time, that we were getting famous so quickly and she loved that lifestyle. Wanted me to bring her as a date to every party. But I was so infatuated, my stupid ass didn’t see it. It wasn’t until that first record deal fell through that she also fell through.”

Jungkook puffs his cheeks. “Then what do you suggest I do?”

“Well, you’ll never know her unless you actually date her.”

Jungkook’s hands are abnormally perspiring way too much. He can’t believe that a girl, not even his first time performing on stage for thousands of people, causes him to feel this nervous. Shaking his shoulders in his bomber jacket, he takes in a deep breath before opening the doors of the library.

2nd flr, your text reads, and Jungkook recalls that you preferred this level since you were still allowed to talk here but in a low volume. You weren’t a big fan of dead silent places, and ever since you found this spot, it’s been your go-to. He’s already rushing up the steel staircases of the building the moment you confirm there’s a spot for him to sit in. It’s not his first time and he’s not even a student here, yet he’s probably been here more frequently than those who were enrolled. He comes to see you, not even to study or anything else. In reality, he finds himself scrolling through social media on his phone or even borrowing your laptop as your face is dug deep into the depths of the pages of your textbook, only to do the same exact thing he was doing on his own mobile device.

When he pushes through another set of double doors, he lets out a sigh of relief. There isn’t one specific reason why he feels this way, but there’s just something about you that releases the burden that sits atop of his shoulders.

“Hey,” Jungkook calls out softly, and your head perks up at the sudden movement of the chair in front of you. Pulling out an AirPod from one of your ears, your sunken eyes meet up with his. “What are you studying for?”

In your oversized charcoal hoodie (the one you got from Artizia that one time; something about how expensive it was but the moment your arms and head slides through the holes, you were already one with the hoodie), you’ve got your hair tied up in a loose, messy bun, stray strands cascading over your face. He takes note that you’ve been breaking out lately; a pimple on your cheek, nose, and chin, black circles darkening underneath those pretty eyes, and you’ve been putting in less effort to apply makeup on in the mornings.

Yet, you still look effortlessly gorgeous.

“What?” you say, half of the energy you normally exhibit.

Jungkook has a soft smile tugging on the edges of his mouth. You’re cute. “I asked what you were studying for.”

“Some specific law class. If I got into the details, you wouldn’t get it.”

He chuckles quietly. “Good call on stopping yourself from explaining.” Slipping the backpack off his shoulders, he unzips it before pulling out a sandwich he bought from the store.

Your face abruptly is three shades brighter.

“Is… is that for me?”

“No,” he retorts bluntly with a straight face until it breaks with a grin. “… Yes. Of course. I even got you chicken salad as the protein.”

You gasp. “Chicken salad? You went all out, Jeon Jungkook. What are you having?”

“Nah, I’m on a diet. I got a performance on Friday night and I’m supposed to showcase my abs.”

Your nose scrunches up, hands reaching out with a grabby-grabby motion. “Gimme gimme. And—do you have to show your abs? I mean, they come for your music, right?”

Jungkook narrows his gaze at you. “Come on, you can’t possibly think that they’re all here for the music. I’ve seen some of them that come backstage with VIP passes. It was like they paid for it to test their chances of fucking me or something ‘cause they didn’t even know the titles of some of the songs.”

Midway reaching your first bite of your sandwich, you cringe again.

“Which… actually is sorta something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Cheeks stuffed with the carbs, his heart is full with love at the sight. You’re so cute like this, eyes widened, smears of the mayo on the side of your lips, and your mouth is filled to the brim with the sandwich that he can see a bit of it protruding out.

“What?” He swears he saw you spit something out of your mouth but he ignores it.

“I… have a confession to make.”

How you swallow that huge ass bite so quickly, he’ll never know, but you wipe your mouth with a napkin, the fronts of your brows dipping at his abrupt statement.

Jungkook inhales a deep breath before releasing it while you eye him curiously. “I… like you.”

You snort.

It’s not the reaction he was looking for—or, well, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this. “What?”

“Well, I don’t see why you’re making it into a big deal. We’re friends, aren’t we? I know you like me. Otherwise we wouldn’t be friends.”

His face contorts in confusion. “No, I meant like… I like you. More than a friend. Boyfriend and girlfriend kind of deal.”

You place your sandwich down gingerly.

“Do you… not like me in return?”

Shoulders dropped, your lips curve into a frown. He doesn’t want to be the type of guy who says you look beautiful even when you’re upset, but… you’re beautiful when you’re upset. “Don’t worry, I like you. You’re charming and handsome, smart at times and dumb at others, but there’s still things I learn from you. Of course, it’s sort of hard not to like you.”

Jungkook beams.

“But,” his face drops; nothing good comes out after the word ‘but’. “I wouldn’t necessarily be interested in dating you.”

He freezes; he’s more frozen than when Captain America is found in that block of ice. “Wh… Why?”

“Because you’re a rockstar.”

“And?”

You roll your eyes. “Jungkook, we both have vastly different priorities.”

Bewildered by your response, Jungkook adjusts himself in the wooden chair, the ones you complain about that make your ass hurt when you sit on them for too long, and clears his throat. “I mean, everyone has different priorities. I don’t see what you’re getting at.”

Fiddling with a piece of the bread, your eyes don’t even meet with his. “Jungkook, you seem to forget that you’re this big rockstar. You have billions of adoring fans, you travel frequently, you drink and get blackout wasted with your band mates, and well… I don’t know how else to describe your lifestyle other than that you’re living the dream. I’m just a grad student. I’m trying to finish school, get a job, one day get married and have kids. If we ever dated, we’d be casual. You’re like an undergrad fling, not a graduate school one.”

Baffled, his mouth is agape. Were you really labeling him as a fling despite the fact that the two of you haven’t even dated yet?

“You… okay, let me get this right. You don’t want to date me because I’m a rockstar?”

“Precisely.”

Leaning back in his seat, he pulls his baseball cap off his head and tosses it on the table before running his fingers through his disheveled tangled locks. “Wh… I’ve never been in this situation.”

You’re already reaching for your sandwich again as if you didn’t just tore his heart to shreds. “Um. I’m sorry. I think we’d make great friends though.”

“You know, girls would kill to date me because I’m a celebrity.”

There’s an empty look washing over your face. “Correct. Which all the more makes me not want us to date.”

“Because what?” he snaps, exasperated.

“Because,” you reiterate, continuing along, “I’d have so many people to compete with. What makes you think I wouldn’t be sitting in the middle of my apartment on days you’re on tour elsewhere, or pacing around my living room, distressed because I have no idea what my boyfriend is up to? Or if he has better options lining up, waiting to get his attention and be his when I’m supposed to be the only one?”

“Because,” he’s mocking you now, “you’d be my girlfriend. The only one that’s on my mind.”

You scoff. “Not the only one in your eyesight that’s half naked though.”

He groans frustratedly, rubbing his face into his hands. “I’ve never had to convince someone to date me before.”

“Jungkook, it’s fine. I think you’re great with an amazing personality. But we’re just not meant to be because I can’t understand your stardom life. That’s all. Maybe in another lifetime.”

“I don’t have control over those girls that strip in front of me or throw their undergarments on stage.”

“I never said it was your fault.”

He sucks in his cheeks, pondering on how to proceed next. Jungkook didn’t prepare for this—he thought he’d either get friendzoned or you’d run into his arms eagerly, excited to be finally his. And somehow, it’s… neither?

Jungkook never knew his job could get in the way of getting his dream girl.

He stays silent, absorbing all of this information. So you did like him back, you just didn’t want to get involved with a rockstar. It makes sense though, and he completely understands where you’re coming from because his bandmates live that same exact lifestyle that you claim is stereotypical celebrity behavior. But he wanted to prove to you that he wasn’t like that, that he saw life a whole lot differently than those guys, and if anything he is solely dedicating himself to you and no other girl if it meant that you’d be his girlfriend.

“How… how do I convince you otherwise?”

This intrigues you. There’s a twitch in your brow, like your face is going to warp into a different countenance, but you’re resuming eating your sandwich again to stall a response.

“Maybe… if you come to my shows, go on a couple dates with me, and hang out with my friends, you’d… get a better glimpse of what that side of me is really like. It’s not like you don’t have feelings for me, right? So this is just… just a trial run. And if it really doesn’t work out, I’ll drop it and we can continue being friends again. I won’t probe you.”

Finishing your last bite, you brush your hands off of the crumbs on the side. He remembers the first time you did that; the remnants of your poptart that spilled onto the table while you were studying were whisked off and onto the floor and when he made a comment about how unsanitary it was, your rebuttal was, ‘if I’m paying this much for University, I’m going to make a mess.’ It’s one of the reasons he fell for you—not that weird thing with the crumbs you did though, he still doesn’t support it, but it’s how bold and honest you were, and he hadn’t met anyone like that.

Finger in your mouth to get the remains of the sandwich off the side of your teeth, you wipe your hand off on the napkin and suck in your cheeks. He cringes, and he knows you’re doing this purposely to throw him off because of his proposal.

“Fine.”

“Fine?” He didn’t think it was going to be that easy.

“Fine,” you reiterate once more, leaning back in your seat. “But if I still feel the same way, I’m moving on and you can’t keep pursuing. I’m giving this a shot in case one day, I look back and regret that I didn’t at least give it a try.”

Jungkook’s cheering inside.

The queue outside wraps around the venue and continues down the street, past a Starbucks, a post office, and some creepy gas station with a couple lights flickering, in need of a replacement. The sight of the amount of people that are waiting just to see Jungkook’s band perform is astonishing, leaving your mouth agape because truthfully, you’ve never truly thought about how famous he was. All you knew was that if you Googled his name, an actual Wikipedia page would show up.

Maybe that should’ve been the first sign that he’s actually a celebrity.

It feels wrong when you passed the people in the line, like you’re cutting them off or something, but this Staff pass that Jungkook gives you lets you slide in both the front and backdoors with ease, and allows way more accessibility than some nutty ass VIP pass that fans have to sell an organ for. So, pulling your jacket closer to your frame, you crouch your head down as much as possible to avoid any attention before flashing that plastic rectangular card with the words ‘STAFF’ printed in bold and caps, and the security guard steps aside without any words coming out of his mouth.

The first thing you could think of the moment you stepped backstage was that it’s… a tad bit hectic.

People are hustling and bustling, all occupied with tasks to tend to, earpieces plugged in and you take note of a couple of the workers with clipboards that are hollering out orders to the rest. It’s chaotic as hell, and you feel like you’re sticking out like a sore thumb just trying to weave through the crowds that are just trying to do their job when you’re here to see Jungkook.

You hate these kinds of places.

They’re so packed and filled with sweaty humans, wet and thirsty for these stupid boys at the same time, and you couldn’t be bothered to even be there. Although being backstage is quite the opposite, instead of those crazy fans, it’s frantic employees that are preparing the stage for Jungkook’s band to perform for those said weirdos on the other side of the curtain.

You [6:45PM]: where are you?

Jeon [6:45PM]: hold on, i’ll come out and get you!

He’s so easy to spot in a crowd full of people.

You ‘stick out like a sore thumb’ because you’re not working like the rest of them.

Jungkook, however, ‘sticks out like a sore thumb’ simply because of his looks.

You meant it when you said that it’s not him that makes you hesitant about pursuing a relationship, it’s his choice of career. He’s always got that pretty smile planted on his face, never failing to turn the heads of many, with charms that emit off him with simplicity, and when he says something even remotely flirtatious, your heart skips a beat. But your stance remains—Jungkook is a celebrity, and you’re not ready for that kind of burden.

Gesturing you to follow him, you don’t hesitate to trail after him in his leather tight pants that hug him in places you never thought your eyes would linger. Were his thighs always that big? You had to quickly shake your head from getting any weird ideas. This is Jeon Jungkook you’re thinking about here, a rocker, a musician, a guy with crazy adoring fans. You would and could never be more. It just didn’t make sense for it to.

When you say there’s a fucking shit ton of people backstage, there’s no exaggeration.

It slowly becomes harder to pinpoint Jungkook in the midst of the employees weaving through the crowds, and the mop on Jungkook’s head barely makes him accessible to find. Yet, he seems to figure this out when you’re not in close proximity—so he waits. He waits until you’re close, then in that moment, his hand reaches for yours and clasps them together.

You’ve never touched Jungkook or been this close in that manner, because when he tugs you closer, you get a whiff of his cologne that practically intoxicates you and has your knees buckling at the aroma. It’s a mixture of citrus with a light spice, some vanilla, and patchouli—then when Jungkook turns to confirm that you’re still there, a smile tugs on the corners of his mouth that tightens your chest even more.

Wait. Snap the fuck back into reality.

Jungkook is a fantasy, one you couldn’t afford to mesh into with your reality. He’s the type of guy that the moment you get involved with, he’ll steer you off your life course and you don’t want that. You worked too hard for your career, for your education, and someone like him could ruin your dreams in a heartbeat because of that gorgeous smile.

He’s like a bad boy meets a sweet boy into one. Tattoos decorate his biceps to his forearms, down to his hands and fingers. He’s got a piercing underneath his tongue, more jewels that adorn the curve of his ears, and he even has an eyebrow one. You never confess to Jungkook that you’ve watched his performances on Youtube before, but you definitely saw it. There’s no dodging those recommended videos on the home screen of the website, so you have been tempted to tap one of them (especially when the thumbnail is of him with those RayBans and that tight shirt).

He flexes his arms like he’s gotta use this strength for something, but it’s all for visuals. Sticking his tongue out his mouth, he uses it to outline his plump lips, moistening them as it glistens underneath the stage lights, then points directly at the camera, stares at it dead eye in the center before wetting girls’ panties just from a simple wink.

But when he’s offstage, he’s got this warmth that radiates off him, kind of like that cute reaction you see in Animal Crossing where flowers emerge with that sparkling sound effect, supposedly expressing joy.

Jungkook laughs with his whole face scrunched up, deep and thick like honey when he’s playing it cool, but higher-pitched and bright when it’s genuinely funny. He does that thing where his hand just stays in the air sometimes, and you’re not sure if he’s going to hit your arm or put it down, but it’s part of his cute laughing habits that you’ll never understand.

It’s hard to tell him ‘no’ after his confession when he’s like this, gleaming with elation when he sees you, but the truth still stands. Jungkook isn’t the guy for you.

When he introduces you to his bandmates, who lounge around in the room with what looks like there isn’t an ounce of nerves in their system, the sound of your name also seems familiar to their ears.

Then Taehyung sports a cocky grin, extending his hand out for you to shake, and the words that leave his mouth only support your observation. “Finally, we get to meet you. Jungkook doesn’t shut up about you.”

Heat rises up to Jungkook’s cheeks. “Alright, enough of that,” he says, glaring at the older male. “Either way, these are my boys.”

His “boys” are what you expect, based on Jungkook’s description of them. Namjoon, the leader, is poised with eyes that curve to moon crescents, mirroring the way his lips curl. He’s gone bleach blonde, you recall Jungkook mentioned, but he wears a beanie that hides it, however the little baby strands that peek through expose him. He’s supposedly mature despite not being the oldest, and always brings order to the chaos.

Then there’s Yoongi, the quiet one with a hardened expression. He’s nice, you learn eventually after having a couple conversations with him, he just has a stiff facade you have to break into. You finally have names to the faces: Seokjin, oldest and loudest, Taehyung, the ‘artsy’ one who dresses accordingly what the current trend is, Hoseok, the cheesy ball of goo who seemingly is always beaming whenever he goes, and lastly Jimin, the big womanizer whose whole personality revolves around having an active sex life.

“You’re pretty,” Jimin compliments, but his tone exhibits a ‘stating-the-obvious’ vibe. “I see why Jungkook is so caught up on you.”

Taehyung snickers.

With a groan, Jungkook shoves Jimin out the way. “Stop,” he whines, “the point is to not scare her away, and you guys are doing just that.”

Namjoon lets out a laugh, and the way he gets up from the armrest of the couch to open the mini fridge to snatch a water bottle for you is comforting. He doesn’t poke fun like Taehyung and Jimin, in fact, he does the opposite. He hands the chilled bottle to you, and the way his eyes match that soft smile dressed upon his lips pulls you in. “Don’t mind them. It’s nice to put a face to a name. We’re happy to have you here, it’s great to finally meet a friend of Jungkook’s.”

“Water?” Seokjin calls out from the corner of the room, finally detaching his eyes from the screen of his phone. “Get her a beer or somethin’. You’re here for a concert, not for an interview. Go grab her that Budlight from the fridge, Joon.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes. “Would you like a beer?”

Seokjin makes a point. If you’re going to at least enjoy yourself (and maybe release some nerves while you’re at it), you should grab yourself a drink.

A drink is an understatement.

You end up having more than just the two cans of beer in their dressing room—you somehow resulted in drinking a couple glasses of mojitos (your favorite), and enjoyed some appetizers leisurely, despite the crowds of people. And it’s all because of that sparkly VIP pass Jungkook gives you.

There’s a box, slightly higher than the rest of the mass of people, but not taller than the stage. It’s got these bars that perimeter the area, seats that are spaced out from each other, including tables so you can put your fancy drinks on. Jungkook mentions that they have this at all of his concerts, and that usually the wealthier fans tend to put in extra money for the comfort during the show, rather than being in that horde with skin on skin contact with strangers who are without a doubt sweating in this hot venue.

Maybe it’s the alcohol in your bloodstream, or is it your heart talking but Jungkook is… different on stage.

When your friends tell you about their concert experiences, you rarely ever truly understand what they mean. There’s a difference between listening to an artist’s song on Spotify or Apple Music, and hearing them onstage, feeling the vibration from the speakers that surround the venue, and that inebriated trance it puts you in. Body swaying to the music, eyes closed to heighten your senses; the thud underneath the soles of your shoes, the heat radiating off your skin—you lose control of yourself and just vibe with the songs that blare into your ears.

It’s also helpful that you have some rum in your system.

Jungkook and his band make this new adventure worthwhile. There’s no separation between the fans and the performers—they’re so interactive during their concerts, constantly getting the audience to sing along while holding their mic out, even tossing water bottles and sweaty towels in their direction, and winking or pointing to random girls to get them swooning.

And honestly?

That wink from Jungkook may have stirred something inside.

After the concert, a handful of screaming fans come running to his side the second he’s hopped off the stage. His intention was to run to you, give you that sweaty hug that you were oddly longing for, but instead, he’s already wrapped an arm around a crazed fan for a picture.

And suddenly, reality smacks your face like the winter’s brisk wind.

Being here was great in a sense that temporarily, you were able to forget. It was easy to bury all the concerns you had when it came to possibly dating Jungkook, but reality comes crashing like a storm, and you’re back to where you started. You could never date someone like him—the inconsistent schedules, the constant traveling, the careless environment, and the mounds of girls that chase him incessantly were all negatives. You’ll never know what he’s really doing, and wholeheartedly, you’re not sure how long you could do the semi-long distance kind of relationship either.

But Jungkook just wants to try so hard, and it’s making it difficult to tell him ‘no.’ It’s those pretty irises that sparkle with joy every time he sees you, long lashes fluttering over the smoothness of his cheeks, and those pouty lips that have you choking on the words you logically want to say, but the words from your heart spills instead.

So, you decide to run.

Well, not so much run, but ghost him, as the kids say.

When he approaches you after your class several weeks later—in a crowd of people, you note—your heart stops at the sudden intrusion. He's not supposed to be here. It’s too public for him to be here, dangerous too, because he’s without his security team and with his fame increasing, you fear for his safety. Immediately, you have fistfuls of the fabric of his black hoodie to pull him aside, letting his back face the students who move quickly in between classes to block his face and you sigh with relief.

“What the fuck? Why would you come here? Do you see all the kids here? What if they just start fucking bombarding you? What are you going to do?” Exasperated, you let your weight fall against the brick masonry so you could catch your breath from the anxiety with the release of his hoodie from your hands.

“You haven’t been calling me back. Or texting me,” there’s hurt in his eyes, permeating to the point of no denying. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” you reply shortly, pushing the straps of your backpack closer. “Just busy.”

He furrows his brows. “You told me a couple weeks ago that this is the only week you’re free in the semester. It’s Tuesday, you have one class and you haven’t even texted me back. Are you busy? Or are you avoiding me?”

“I’m just—”

Jungkook doesn’t even let you get a word in. “Because if it’s because I confessed to you, I’m sorry. I fucked up, alright? I thought you’d like me back, and maybe we could date—well, honestly, I didn’t know what would happen but I didn’t think it would be this. I didn’t want to lose my friend over it. Why couldn’t you just say you didn’t have feelings back so I wouldn’t just sit by my phone waiting—”

He doesn’t stop, even when your mouth drops open to interject, he doesn’t allow it. Quickly placing a hand to cover his mouth, he muffles a couple words into your palm before tilting his head puzzlingly. “I never said I didn’t like you.”

Jungkook pulls your hand off and you drop the hold with ease. “Then… what was it?”

“If I saw you again, it’d be hard to tell you that we can’t be together,” you solemnly disclose. “And I’m usually the type to control my emotions very well, but it’s confusing being around you.”

His expression softens. “Confusing?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you cross your arms over your chest. It’s a simple act, but part of you always feels like you need a shield to protect yourself around Jungkook because if it’s anyone to break your heart, he’d facilely do it. “You’re a great guy. I love talking to you, and hanging out with you is the highlight of my week. But I never know if you’re going to be out with someone, or if you’re going to be away next week for a concert or for some show appearance. What am I supposed to do when all those things are eating me up inside? We’re not even dating and I have all this anxiety.”

Strangely enough, in his past relationships, he’s never had anyone say those words. It has him wondering if they’ve ever felt this insecurity with him, and when he asked them for a break up, he wonders if they ever felt like they might’ve been right about their theory (even though it wasn’t).

But he didn’t want you to feel that way. He wanted you, without all of those burdens that he would be the cause of.

“You… haven’t even let me try yet. It was one concert. I didn’t even get to show you what kind of boyfriend I could be, the kind of man that could show you what it’s like to be loved.”

And there it was again.

Those gorgeous eyes; how are they brown yet manage to shine brighter than the stars in the sky? They’re hypnotizing when they meet with yours, having you locked in with the key thrown away and you’re left with saying with your heart feels instead of your head for the second time.

With a quiet voice, you say it once more. “Okay.”

Jungkook does try his best when he says he does. He’s a hopeless romantic, you learn, but it’s something he reveals continually and yet you never took seriously until now.

He often comes by after your classes with a cup of coffee, or drops by the library when he knows you have to stay late to do some research for your papers. Jungkook even takes you out on dates at times; once on a picnic, another at some fancy steak restaurant with the lights so dim that you couldn’t even make out the shadow of his face if it wasn’t for the little ass candle in the middle of the table, and sometimes, you’d go on walks in the park or alongside the river. He doesn’t fail to whisper sweet nothings to you from time to time, always reminding you how you’re the one that has his heart stuttering in its beats.

Jungkook sort of makes you feel like you’re dating a… regular guy. (And in a good way).

He even makes visits to your apartment, cooks dinner with you and stays the night. Some days, he has band practice or recordings, so you enjoy the leftovers from the night before, and although it feels empty not to have him in that seat across from you at the dinner table, his presence is faintly there—especially when he’s texting you in between breaks or Facetimes you when he can.

It feels… nice. Being loved like this, so effortlessly, like a soothing cool breeze on those nights in the summertime. There’s no weight on your shoulders, instead, you feel like you’re floating in the air when you’re with him—problems set aside, nothing but calmness instilled, and it’s just the two of you.

When he plants kisses from the corner of your lips down to the side of your neck, your breath hitches at the feeling. He’s so close, and you’re desperate to feel closer, but you don’t want to be another number on his list of women and yet here you were, melting underneath his touches.

You don’t say anything, but the fewer words spoken, the better because Jungkook comes back up once again, abandoning the end of the path of kisses he leaves to press his lips against the crown of your head with a hand cupping the other side of your face. He knows when to stop, understanding that there’s that insecurity that sits in the pit of your stomach, worrying about his past relationships, even though you know you shouldn’t be. So if this is how far you’re comfortable with, Jungkook complies.

The nights that he spends here end up lost with what feels like longer hours; you’re lost in him, inebriated by him, and you’ve even caught yourself becoming clay, with him as a sculptor, molding you into his version of perfection.

Except, you’ve already been created by yourself as the artist, and he’s purely the admirer. He strokes each curve and crevasse of you in adoration, gaze drenched and dripping in fondness, wishing nothing but to bask in your beauty for as much time he has left. Days, hours, minutes, seconds—you were right when you said that you’d never know when he’ll just have to grab his things and go, and Jungkook cherishes each moment he has with you.

He doesn’t want to tell you that what you said was the truth; it means that you’ll push away, that you won’t get to be his, and he’s hardly even fully fallen for you yet. There’s always uncertainty when it comes to being a musician, and Jungkook isn’t the exception.

And yet, he still pushes through, despite knowing all of this information.

Jungkook still cherishes his time with you, and pushes to the back of his mind that he might have to leave one day. You’ve mentioned pumpkin picking once, and although he’s not really the type of guy to go to a farm and pick a huge round orange colored fruit, he does it because you like it. Apple cider isn’t his favorite, but when you bring the drink up to his lips, he breaks out of his comfort zone to try it anyway. (Spoiler: he hates it.) Even though it sucks, he’d take another sip any day if that means he gets to see that bright laugh again.

But good things always come to an end.

With a sunken look on his face, he leans against the countertops of the pick up station at the café. Apron around your waist and a cup in hand, you eye your sort-of-boyfriend inquiringly. You’ve yet to make it an official label, and to be quite fair, the whole idea of him being a celebrity still doesn’t sit right.

He’s got on that baseball cap again, oversized hoodie with ripped black jeans, matching monochromatically from head to toe. Again, you wonder if he’ll ever get caught because this doesn’t necessarily camouflage him.

“What’s wrong with you?” You ask, popping the cup under the espresso machine. “Why the long face?”

He rolls his lips, almost like he’s hesitant about sharing his thoughts, but when your gaze narrows, he swallows. “I’m… going on tour soon.”

“Oh,” you say, mouth in an ‘o’ shape. It wasn’t surprising, after all, you saw this coming anyways. It hadn’t been the first time he's been on tour since the two of you were friends, but it’s the first since you’ve started this… somewhat of a courtship. “When?”

Clearing his throat, he readjusts his position uncomfortably. He can’t fully read what’s going through your mind, but part of him can already guess that you might not be happy with the news. “…Tomorrow?” The tone is uneasy, like he’s going to cower underneath the closest table.

“Oh,” you reiterate, this time softer. It hurts to see you like this, trying to hold yourself together as if you haven’t told him a million times before that this is what it’s going to feel like when he leaves for tour. “I see. Do you know when you’ll be back?”

Jungkook’s shoulders drop. He lets out the deepest of breaths with downcast eyes, evidently avoiding meeting the frown that he knows sits upon your pretty lips. It’s barely been a couple weeks since you’ve let him pursue you, barely enough time to get to know you in ways more than friends should, and he already has to go. And maybe he should’ve listened when you told him how arduous the goodbyes would be, but he selfishly wanted you to be his so badly. This wasn’t the last goodbye, it was a ‘see you again soon’ farewell, and he hopes you’ll see it the same way he does.

“It’ll… be quite some time. The tour is for three months, but we’ve also been invited to perform on the James Corden show.”

Your face brightens—quite the opposite of what he was expecting. “Wait—James Corden? Jungkook, that’s a pretty big platform. You guys would blow up even more with this opportunity. That’s amazing, I’m happy for you!”

But he sees that glimmer in your eyes.

At first, it’s easy to mistake it as one with hope, elation, and love.

He later finds out it was from your eyes watering.

This is his dream.

On stage, with a fandom that grows from thousands to tens of thousands to hundred thousands, and eventually, millions. Singing his heart out, with the songs that he produced and wrote with his best friends and being able to share it with the world.

Yet, it doesn’t feel right.

When he says, “I’ll see you again soon,” with a kiss on your forehead and a hug, your body gives him chills. It’s cold, and he could feel brisk winds in the air, blowing against the back of his jacket, but it’s supposed to be warmer. Before he left for the day, he checked the weather app to make sure.

Why is it freezing when he’s with you?

He calls, as promised, sharing stories of his journeys—from having to be in a cramped RV for hours on end with the boys, sleeping in those bunk beds that remind him of his youthful days at summer camp, and stopping at tourist attractions when they see one. His face is always radiating brightly, eager to talk to you and share his experiences, but his favorites are hearing yours.

The first couple times, you’re candid.

You share freely and comfortably, and he wants nothing more than for you to talk for hours. He loves hearing your voice; describes it as ‘smooth as honey’ yet at the same time ‘light and flowy like a feather’ and compares it to the melody of his favorite song. Jungkook was smitten by you, eyes filled with hearts each time your name popped up on his phone lockscreen. It made him forget the last time he saw you, how distant you felt despite being in his arms.

When he texts you goodnight, you’re off underneath the covers. Cozy, wrapped snugly with your blanket that you bragged you bought for a smacking good deal of twenty bucks, claiming that you’ve seen these go for at least eighty dollars. He misses that smile, the one he’d see before he’d turn off the bedside table lamps on nights he’d stay over at your apartment, and gets a whiff of lavender from your body wash when you toss and turn in slumber. The way you crinkle your nose in your sleep, and the way your jaw tenses and releases (he suggests you go see a dentist about that, but you’re so stubborn), it’s the little things that he begins to notice the absence of when he’s not near.

It was exciting and eventful at first; waiting for the clock to strike three in the afternoon to get a call from Jungkook after he took a break from a recording session, and another one just before bed, you could expect your phone to blow up between the hours of nine and midnight. The text exchanges were rapid fire too, Jungkook never failing to respond back as quickly as possible, sometimes replying to your messages directly or sharing a meme in the hopes of making your day.

Things get harder, you grow to learn, and it’s a mature thing to come to the consensus that this kind of relationship requires a lot of effort. You’re exhausted from your daily activities. From work to school, by the time you’re home, you’re to cook dinner for yourself, clean up your mess, possibly do other chores, shower, and prepare for bed. There isn’t even time for yourself anymore, let alone for somebody else, but you’re also starting to believe that Jungkook can’t even keep up with this lifestyle anymore.

Three months. Three months is a lot of time for a person to be apart from another, and enough time for people to change.

You spot Jungkook just in time for his performance when James Corden comes back from commercial break, and needless to say, he’s always breathlessly handsome. He’s got his hair slicked back, exposing the piercings that embellish the lobes of his ears, makeup that darkens his irises, and lips painted that familiar faint pink. With seven guys in the band, Jungkook stands center beside Jimin, but something about him specifically captures your eyes, although it seems like you’re not the only one.

His name is practically plastered on the majority of the handmade posters in the crowd, and your heart sinks. He’s gotten so popular in the past couple months; from billboards to trending topics on Twitter to magazine covers and endorsements on big name brands on Instagram, Jungkook and his bandmates have increased their fame three times more than what it had been before.

You see him everywhere on social media.

And sadly, you see him less in your personal messages and calls.

Daily video call dates get cancelled. The first couple times, all was forgiven. Things happen, and with his new hectic schedule, it’d be crazy if he didn’t reschedule. But eventually, it became too much. When he was available, you were either working a shift at the cafe, stuck in class, or meeting with your classmates for a group project. It never worked out, and in all truthfulness, your patience was wearing thin.

When Jungkook comes back, it’s like looking at a brand new person.

He’s gotten an uppercut, a couple new tattoos that adorn his arm, and walks with a certain jump in his step that you couldn’t miss. There’s a newfound confidence that he’s gained over tour, like he knows his own self worth, or even inflated the one he’d already had. But Jungkook is still a hopeless romantic. That’s the one trait that’ll never leave him, no matter where he is in life, he’ll always believe in love.

Entering through the double doors of the coffee shop, the bell above the entrance rings, and your sunken eyes barely even look up to see him. “Hey, welcome to Brew-tiful Beans, cold brew let me know your order?”

Jungkook snorts. “Did they… Did they train you guys to do those new greetings?”

Startled by that familiar voice, your ears perk up. Your body freezes, like the soles of your shoes are super glued to the broken dull tiles behind the counter and you can’t even bring yourself to turn to look at him. It’s been weeks since you’ve last talked, someone who was supposed to be chasing you, someone who was supposed to show you what it feels like to be loved. And he didn’t. He didn’t reach out, he didn’t leave a text, he didn’t call. He did nothing.

And he comes back like nothing even happened?

“Um,” you respond uncomfortably, wiping your hands off on the front of your apron despite nothing being on them. “Uh, yeah. New corporate thing. They came down from headquarters and trained all the baristas.”

Jungkook showcases that signature smile that easily swooned you before. It’s a bit different now, especially with how it’s been recently. “You hate all that fancy corporate stuff,” he states factually, and he’s right. You’ve mentioned it a plethora of times before, and part of you is slightly surprised he remembers it. “Experience only matters when it’s special to each person, if I recall that correctly. I know you’re a pro with all that customer service stuff, you told me you’ve been in the industry for most of your life.”

“Yeah,” voice soft and tone slightly off from the one you normally exhibit, Jungkook raises a brow questioningly because this abnormality doesn’t go over his head. “Something like that.”

He crosses his arms over his chest and inhales sharply. You’re different, and whether or not in a good or bad way, Jungkook wasn’t sure but he was going to figure out why. And he’d been so caught up with your punny greeting that he almost didn’t notice your recently cut hair, and when you pull your phone out to place it by the register, there’s a crack on the screen too.

“Something is off.”

You blink, this time, eyes meeting with his own. He makes your legs feel like those silly putty toys you used to play with in your youth, and your heart palpitates like you’ve just ran a marathon. Jungkook reminds you of your middle and high school crushes, the ones that make your hands all sweaty and give you the jitters as if you’re about to take a test you didn’t study for. It’s not fair that he reads you like an open book—were you really that transparent? You thought you did a good job of closing yourself off, but you have to keep reminding yourself that Jungkook is observant when it comes to these things. He’s a hopeless romantic, one that will continuously see nothing wrong with this relationship because he prefers the on-the-surface part of it.

“I’m at work, Jungkook,” you retort coldly, the same way you did when he said his goodbyes. Why is it that you keep up such a believable facade behind a screen, but in person, you’re freezing like a block of ice? “Maybe we can talk later.”

Hurt, he nods and steps away. It makes you feel worse because he’s so respectful, and the reasons you have for wanting to break this off always seem to dissipate when you’re around him. He’s just so… warm, like if home was a person.

At the end of your shift, he sits with tired eyes at the corner of the cafe. He knows better than to do or say anything when you ask for space, and to get out of your hair when you need it.

“Listen,” you begin, after locking the double doors of the shop. “I think… we should end this.”

Startled, Jungkook steps back. “Wait—what?”

Sighing, you rake your fingers through your tangled locks tiredly. All the negative thoughts had been eating you up inside, and staying with Jungkook wasn’t helping. “I can’t get over it. I can’t fucking get past all the things that come with you because you’re a celebrity.”

“Because I chose to follow my dreams, I can’t be with you?” This can’t be happening.

“It’s not your fault—”

He scoffs. “Damn fucking right it’s not my fault. I did everything—I made you feel loved. And… that’s it?”

“I just… I don’t think I could handle all the uncertainty.” That was it. There wasn’t anything else after that, but he couldn’t hear anything else after your last apology over the sound of his heart shattering into a million pieces.

And with that, he watches as you drag your exhausted frame away, head down and dig into the fabric of your hoodie where he doesn’t hear the faint sobs that escape your lips.

“We broke up,” Jungkook snaps, aggressively tossing off the headphones that sit atop his head. “We weren’t even officially together and she fucking broke up with me.”

“Bro, I’m sorry,” Namjoon says, patting Jungkook’s back comfortingly. He knows that Namjoon is trying his best in this situation, one he’s not familiar with himself, but he wants Jungkook to feel better. “I know she meant something to you.”

“This is stupid,” covering his face with his hands, he leans back in his swivel chair. Going through heartbreak should get these juices flowing, get his thoughts moving and the pen scribbling on pieces of scrap paper full of ideas. But he’s got nothing. Empty, clean sheets of printer paper, all stacked nicely upon his work desk with a filled cartilage of ink in his pen. “How the fuck did I get broken up with because I’m a rockstar? I’ve been searching far and wide for a girl to date me for who I am without the whole costume getup. Then when I find her, she doesn’t want the side that the rockstar brings but it’s part of me.”

Namjoon sighs, pulling a seat beside Jungkook. “Well, maybe she isn’t the girl for you.”

“She’s definitely the girl for me,” he corrects, shoulders and hands dropping. “She’s so the girl for me, and the fact I can’t have her because of the consequences that come with my dreams makes me feel like shit.”

“You’ll find someone who will,” the older friend assures, picking up the pen to hand it to him. “Trust me. Don’t settle for someone who would make you consider quitting your dreams.”

But that’s the thing. You don’t ask him to pick between his dreams or you, you made that decision yourself. To him, you all had all the qualities he’d want in a partner—smart, beautiful, kind, and liked him for who he was behind closed doors—but he never stopped to think before if he checked all the boxes for you, and was overly confident despite never saying it.

“She never told me to quit my dreams,” Jungkook snatches the pen from Namjoon’s hold. “She just didn’t think my dreams were fitting for her lifestyle.”

Namjoon nods, finally absorbing in the why of the end of your relationship with Jungkook. “Well, shouldn’t you be grateful? She didn’t continue to lead you on. Told you what she wanted then and there, and moved on.”

He groans, head dropping onto the desk with a thud. “Is it bad that I don’t want that?”

“No, but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t respect her wishes and do as she asks anyway.”

He knows his leader is right, and he normally always is when he gives life advice, but Jungkook hates that this is what he’s right about. He doesn’t want to let you go, step away from a girl who makes him feel whole again, someone who made him want to keep improving as a person for not just her, but himself too.

But he’s beginning to lose that drive without you by his side.

So, he decides that he’s going to take a combination of both Jimin and Namjoon’s suggestions. Namjoon’s is to move on, and continue to do what makes [him] happy. And Jimin’s is to eat, sleep, record, perform, drink, and fuck.

And shit, does Jungkook do all those things.

He knows that if you were standing before him right now, you’d tell him that he’d become exactly what you said he would. What else would he expect you to say? He’d then deny profusely, waving his hands in dismissal and sending rebuttals your way until you’d get annoyed enough that you would stop. But you’re not here now, and it’s just him. He doesn’t need to impress you anymore. Although he wants to, there’s no need for it now.

Jungkook doesn’t love this lifestyle, as much as he wants to admit that he does, it doesn’t fit him. These girls that snugly sit on him while he’s seated on the leather couches of this blaring loud club aren’t you, and because he’s gotten a taste of what your petal lips are like, he’s addicted and wants nothing else but that. When he’s standing on the dance floor, girls’ asses up against his dick, grinding and swaying their bodies to the music, he only misses the way you turn around in your sleep, curling up to become smaller and he’d be able to wrap his arms around you like a blanket.

He hates having them on his personal bedroom sheets, so he never brings them home. You’ve never been tangled in them, so he doesn’t even have your scent imprinted on his pillowcases, so why would he have some strange girl’s?

So he takes them to a hotel, every single endeavor, fuck them with his frustrations and leave them without any conversation to exchange. Jungkook didn’t want attachments. He’s too busy being into you.

But during that time apart from you, it only makes him miss you… more. He’s gotten everything he’s ever wanted—a record deal, multiple albums, songs that hit top ten on charts, fame, and all the money he could need. If Jungkook decided he wanted to quit pursuing music now, he’d be able to afford it.

And honestly, he’s starting to reconsider this whole rockstar life. Was it worth chasing all your dreams, having all of these so-called ‘great things’ when during it, you have nobody to share it with? Sure, he had his boys, but if he had been completely honest, the money was slowly changing them all. As a group, they rarely hang out anymore. There weren't any of those Friday night dinners, where they used to eat at bbq joints and have just pork skin because they couldn’t afford the fancy meats. Or when they find a way to stretch their money, and find clever ways to do it together as a group, because the up-and-coming artist lifestyle was brutal. They’d try stuffing as many clothes they could in those washing machines at the laundromat so they wouldn’t have to waste another quarter. Eventually, they ended up handwashing everything, but nonetheless, they did it together.

And now, Seokjin only eats Kobe beef if it’s beef. Taehyung’s clothes aren’t thrifted, they just look thrifted, with name brands printed across the fabric. Yoongi can’t seem to relate to any of the guys anymore, much like Jungkook himself, so he coops himself up in the recording studio for days on end, hoping to produce the next big hit. His best friends weren’t his best friends anymore, and once again, Jungkook is lonely. But not just lonely for love, but his friends again.

If this is what happiness is supposed to be, he doesn’t want it.

It’s been two years since he’s been back here. Here, as in the neighborhood where the apartment he stayed at with the guys when they were just young kids chasing their unattainable dreams was at.

Do you still work in that cafe by the university? Is the cold brew at Starbucks still your go-to? What about those rainy days—is it still the weather you prefer to go driving in? How about your hair? Does it still get tangled in those gold hoops you like to wear? Is Coldplay your favorite band? Or have you already moved on from them like you did with him?

He didn’t know he’d see you here. If he did, he would’ve prepared himself better—maybe wear a nicer shirt, or chose those jeans that he splurged on instead of these sweats that he saw hanging over the back of his computer chair with a t-shirt he definitely put on rotation twice this week. But he can’t turn back now, especially when you’ve spotted him across the room.

You did a double take, he notices, because you even rub your eyes afterwards to see if it’s true.

It’s like time stops. Nobody around him moves, and the room goes silent. You’re somehow exactly the same yet different at the same time—you’ve dyed your hair (some type of balayage, he thinks it’s called), and you look toned (have you been working out?), but the way your mouth curls up at the sight of him, lashes still long and pretty when they brush against the high points of your cheekbones, he knows you haven’t fully changed. You’re still that simple girl he fell in love with.

His trance breaks when you gesture him in your direction, and he’s quick to grab his order from the to-go counter so he can get to you. What’s this weird feeling rushing through his veins? It’s one he hasn’t had in a while.

It's… exciting.

Jungkook’s excited to see you, and he hasn’t been excited to do anything in a while. But seeing you again, in some random coffee shop, in the last place he’d ever think of is… nice. It’s refreshing.

He knows if he tells you how he’s been feeling, you’d roll your eyes and call him a hopeless romantic like you used to. He manages to find the dull, mundane things in life and make it riveting, embellishing it with the “Jungkook-touch” so that it’d seem more fantasy or fairytale-like. But Jungkook hasn’t been able to do anything like that in quite some time, and just looking at you has his heart racing like this only confirms his emotions.

“H-Hey,” he greets, mentally punching himself because how wimpy did he look for stuttering over one goddamn word? “You’re… here.”

You smile so wide that your eyes replicate the shape of your mouth. “Hey! And you’re here. Didn’t think I’d ever see you back.”

Jungkook rubs his nape with an awkward laugh. He still wears that stupid black hat, despite the black now slightly purple in discoloration from overuse. “I… yeah. Needed a break. Wanted to get out of that busy life for a bit.”

You nod with pursed lips with a book laid flat on the table, phone with the screen down, and a cup of iced coffee. “I get that. Took a day off from work to… yeah. Catch my breath.”

“Right,” he says, mostly as a filler for the weird silence. “Um. Yeah, it’s uh… nice seeing you again—“

“Are you single?”

Jungkook nearly chokes on nothing. “W-What?”

You blink, as if your bold question is one people ask casually in a regular conversation. (Spoiler: it’s not.) Tilting your head to the side, you lean back against the booth you’re sitting in with your arms crossed on your chest. “I didn’t stutter.”

“I know that but—”

“Well?” God, even though he hasn’t seen you in a while, the feelings come rushing back like a tsunami. There’s something about you that always has him stuck like this.

“I’m single,” he confirms, although he doesn’t understand why you need this information.

“Great, if you’re interested, I… wanna take you out tonight.”

Something he remembers from your friendship is that if your hair is down, it’s a special occasion.

And well, your hair is let down, cascading over your shoulders and pretty collarbones. He takes note of the new piercings that ornaments your ears when you tuck a couple of loose strands of hair behind, but that’s when he notices that the piercings weren’t the only thing new—you got a tattoo. It’s dainty, small, and hidden behind your lobes from the world to see and it fits you so perfectly.

“Hey,” you greet with no hint of anxiety in your voice. You’ve decided to wear a grey band tee (unfortunately, it’s not his band), baby blue jeans, and a leather jacket. How do you always remain calm and collected every time? Because he’s nervous out of his mind. Who wouldn’t be though? He’s going on a date with a girl he’s had a crush on, despite not seeing her for two years.

Thankfully, this time, he could impress you. His outfit is casual, but not too casual as before because he opts for an expensive pair of jeans instead of the raggedy ones he had since before his band’s debut.

“Should we go for dinner?”

God, he feels weak. You’re even pretty when you’re eating spaghetti, when you twirl the stringy carbs with a fork, bringing it to your lips with a soft moan. It’s delicious, apparently, and he doesn’t taste the pasta but you’re like a walking advertisement for this dish. He can’t help but to notice how lovely you are holding a champagne flute, the sparkling liquid glossing over those plump lips of yours.

He’s distracted. In his mind, he can’t understand what’s going on here because you’re the one asking him out, you’re the one who suggested to have dinner together. What’s the point of all this?

But you remain eating your food and talking just like how the two of you left off your friendship. Not relationship, but friendship.

Jungkook forgot how easy it was to talk to you—you’re just so welcoming and kind without actual judgement, in spite of your teasing words. You love to banter, he remembers, and that’s a trait of yours that never changed, other than the fact you still make his heart swell like a balloon.

Toward the end of your meal, he thinks the night is over. Truthfully, he’s scared. Afraid that whatever this was is another fleeting moment—another chance for you to walk away once more and tear out his worn heart from the last encounter from you.

Then, it’s like you read his mind because you offer to take a walk to ‘burn off the calories from dinner.’

But, unlike the exchanged laughter and stories over dinner, the walk is quiet. It’s like the awkwardness weighs heavy on both your shoulders, and sits atop his lungs because it’s hard to properly breathe with the burden of uncertainty. Did you have something to say? What’s the reason for having dinner with him?

“I’m sorry,” you blurt, unable to even meet with his stare. You keep your vision forward, looking into the river as the cold air weaves through your hair and cools the heat that rises around your neck from all the anxiety of being with Jungkook. “I told you that I didn’t want to date a celebrity, and I left you. Even though you tried, you made me feel special, and you made me feel loved. I said I didn’t want what comes with dating a rockstar, and I made a selfish decision.”

“It… it was an acceptable selfish decision, if that’s what you’re trying to figure out.”

You laugh, shrugging in your big coat. “I guess. But… I forget sometimes that when you love someone, you make some sacrifices.”

Jungkook chews on his bottom lip. Even when he observes you, the little ticks you give away, he still can’t read you. You’re not the same person you were years ago, and yet, he’s already learning to love this version of you. “Do you?”

You tighten your lips into a straight line for a moment. “Yeah. And even though we only dated briefly, I loved you throughout our friendship. I made a choice—one that was solely for myself, one that I thought I’d be happy with.”

He swallows. “And?”

“I’m happy, but I think I’m happier with you.” His heart clenches. Barely able to get a word in, you continue, “And I can keep being happy with myself, by myself, or I can be happy with you too. I forget sometimes that you can chase your dreams while still loving someone.”

Jungkook blinks. “And what about the consequences of my dreams?”

Finally, you turn and your eyes meet his. They melt into his irises like those hot chocolate bombs when they drop into a hot cup of milk—so sweet, so warm, fitting for the winter. “If you loved me back, you’d never do the things I said I’d assume. I would try—the whole long distance thing when you’re away, maybe even travel and stop by shows. Call you daily. Kiss you goodnight, and wish you sweet dreams,” you pause for a moment, scoffing in disbelief at yourself, “I’m… I’m not usually the hopeless romantic here, Jungkook, but you did something to me.”

This… wasn't what he was expecting out of this date but he doesn’t have any complaints.

Now, don’t get it mixed up.

Jungkook is a hopeless romantic. Not easy.

He doesn’t let you in that simply, no matter how tempting you are with those tainted pink lips that remind him of strawberries. Or how you briefly mentioned there’s a cute little tattoo on your hip bone of something sweet, you’d say teasingly, and it’s got his jeans uncomfortable. You’re a walking temptress, and it’s safe to say that he has to put up a shield over his heart in case you’d want to break it again.

Yet, that same insecurity is swirling in the pits of his stomach again. Do you love him or who he is as a celebrity? Especially now, with his fame rising and more people recognizing him on the streets, he can’t help but wonder once more if you love who he is as a person and not this persona he puts on stage.

So, he tests a couple things.

Jungkook knows how bad this sounds, but in all truthfulness, it’ll make him feel better. He still loved you, even from before you gave him a chance, and even still now when you’re standing before him, a different person. All he wants to know is if you love him like that too.

Slouched over on the worn out black leather couch of his recording studio, Jungkook ponders with his shoes tapping against the laminated flooring. He’s been stuck on this ‘new message’ screen with your name in the ‘to:’ section, fear rushing through his veins like every performance on stage. Except, he’s performing in front of you, to test whether or not these feelings you claim to are what you really mean.

Yoongi eyes Jungkook carefully. The kid has been sitting on this goddamn couch for hours, and although Yoongi thought of speaking up several times, he figured if he left Jungkook be, maybe the problem would resolve itself.

It’s been five hours.

Yoongi can’t focus with all that leg shaking.

“Alright,” he says, breaking the silence with a turn of his swivel chair. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

Surprised, Jungkook looks up. “Huh? What?”

Yoongi points to Jungkook’s phone. “You’ve been staring ar your fucking phone for five hours. Not moving your goddamn fingers but instead you keep shaking your leg. It’s distracting. What are you doing?”

“She’s back,” Jungkook announces, except the way he says it makes it sound like a horror movie. Yoongi picks up on who she is, but he can’t make out why Jungkook would be so scared to talk to you again.

“Okay, so what’s wrong?”

“She said… she made a mistake last time,” he begins, and Yoongi raises a brow in curiosity.

“Again, okay, so what’s wrong with that?”

“Well, what if she’s back because I’m famous, and not because she loves me?”

Ah, it was clicking in Yoongi’s head now. It’s like a lightbulb pops above his head, and everything is making sense now. “I get it. So… what are you doing?”

“I’m gonna ask her to come to our show tonight.”

Yoongi blinks blankly. “O…Okay, and… how’s that gonna determine if she loves you for you or your fame?”

Jungkook’s shoulders drop. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

The two sit in silence for a moment, Jungkook’s mind empty but Yoongi’s head is swarming with ideas. His friend is stuck, is what his brain is telling him, and as a natural instinct, he’s coming up with ten thousand ways to make this work.

“Tell her to come,” Yoongi says, shattering the glass of quietude. “And give her the cold shoulder if she comes. Maybe get Jimin to flirt with her and see if she’s interested in him when he gives her the attention.”

Jungkook snaps his finger as if it’s the best idea he’s ever heard. “Good point.”

You reply in less than thirty seconds later.

you [7:52pm]: sweet offer, but it's sunday and i have work bright and early in the morning. rain check? maybe facetime before you get on stage? i’ll give a kiss for good luck.

Jungkook chokes on his saliva .

Yoongi stares at the bright screen, lost for words.

“Well, that backfired.”

“I only had ideas for when she would go. She’s gonna miss out on a free concert from one of the bands on the top of the charts right now?”

Jungkook scratches his head. That’s true. Who would do that if they’re thirsty for clout?

This new plan dawned on him on a Thursday afternoon.

He recalls that you brought up momentarily about how you worked in a research lab at the University downtown, and coincidentally enough, it’s close to his record label.

So he thought… why not?

Why not meet her outside of her workplace with no disguise? Would she like that? If she truly was into this for fame, she’d like being seen in public with him without the hats and jackets.

And the second he sees you pushing through those double glass doors, Jungkook expects your face to brighten at the surprising sight of him.

God, he completely forgot. He completely forgot about his first impression of you—that day at the coffee shop where you ran into each other, spilled coffee, and profanities slipped.

Well, more than just explicit language.

Remember how he said he didn’t want to relive some of the insults that spewed out of you?

He’s reliving it again.

You’re fuming, it’s unbelievable. If he wasn’t in shock, he’d be able to hear the smoke whistling from your ears as you’re attacking him again. Your words are like bullets, and he didn’t wear a bulletproof vest to protect himself from it. Shuffling through your bag, he notices a white jacket stuffed into the opening, and you manage to pull out a black baseball cap out of it.

“Wear this.”

Jungkook stares at you, perplexed.

You shove the hat into his chest. “Loosen the back strap. Wear it. We’re on a fucking college campus, you can’t seriously think you can just walk around here without anything on, right?”

Slowly, he grabs the hat from you and readjust the tightness before putting it over his head. “You’re mad?”

“You idiot, remember when I said that even hats don’t cover your face that well? It’s a stupid disguise. But it’s still better than fucking walking around with nothing on. Jesus, Jungkook, what came over you?”

“Sorry, I just—”

You squint your eyes at Jungkook. “You’re testing me.”

He clears his throat, something caught in his windpipe just like he’s being caught red handed right now. “W-What?”

You cross your arms over your chest, sucking in your cheek as you observe his slightly cowering expression. “You’re testing me. And that’s fine, Jungkook. I come back suspiciously when you’re more famous than before. I get the precautions. But don’t fucking put yourself in a position where you could hurt yourself physically because you’re afraid I’ll hurt you emotionally.”

So, that failed too. And you figured him out.

To be fair, while he was trying to come up with a plan to see what your whole thing was going back to him, it sort of brought him and his friends back together.

Everyone was excited to come up with something—Yoongi had experience dating a girl who was like that, and the rest of the guys just had fun chiming in.

“Video girl syndrome,” Yoongi begins, stealing it from a Jonas Brothers song (the original JB, but he’s not gonna get into that right now), released in 2008, and pretty much describes the girls Jungkook talks about when he says he doesn’t want to end up with them. “is when they live for fame, love the money—”

“You could just recite the whole entire song for us,” Taehyung interjects, and Yoongi whacks him on the back of his head with a newspaper.

“Alright,” Namjoon says, voice louder in volume to get the rest of the boys to stop playing around. “How about we ask you questions about how she’s been acting lately? From our experiences, that is, since I’m a thousand percent sure we’ve all dated video girls.”

“Mm, and see if you’re a victim,” Seokjin raises up the beer can in his hand and Hoseok rolls his eyes.

“I got one!” Hoseok shoves Seokjin to the side and he glares at his band mate from the corner of his eyes before brushing it off. “Does she laugh at your jokes when you’re not even being funny?”

Jungkook tilts his head. Has he ever tried being funny in front of you? Because, he’s never seen you laugh at anything he said. But—other exes come to mind when Hoseok says this. “Mm, no.”

“Has she ever asked you for money?”

“Only because I ordered a drink from the cafe she worked at.”

“What about your famous friends? Does she name drop any of them?”

Jungkook furrows his brows in thought. Did you? Then a quick flashback of you pulling out your phone when he brings up Namjoon, and tapping of characters into a google search before you nod and pull your lips into a straight line with a, “I remember him,” then resuming back to listening to his story.

“She googles everyone I name drop.”

Namjoon leans back in his seat. “So wouldn’t that just prove that it isn’t like that? What are you so worried about?”

Jungkook sighs. “I don’t know I just—”

“He’s worried she’s gonna leave him again,” Jimin adds on, and Jungkook is taken aback because out of all the guys, he thought Jimin would be the least to understand. “But if she’s back now, and she says she’ll try, you should let her. Let her prove to you instead of you having to come up with tricks. She’s chasing you, remember? Because she left in the first place.”

At first, Jungkook thought that the person who wouldn’t have any ounce of input would be Jimin.

But he didn’t realize that during the times he’d been desperate to have a friend to offer a shoulder for him to lean on, Jimin needed one too.

It’s what prompts Jungkook to actually start lifting up that barrier he put up to protect himself from you. He invited you over for dinner at this old KBBQ joint with his friends, the one he was missing after all the time, and the laughter you brought out of them made Jungkook feel like… this is what he was wishing for. This was that puzzle piece in his life that needed to be found. And for the first time, Jimin speaks about his experience with a ‘video girl’ and Jungkook’s outlook on him changes.

The fact that he couldn’t share anything comfortably in front of his so-called best friends, but he does it easily with you spoke volumes. All six boys with their ears perked up gave nothing but undivided attention to Jimin, and it aches Jungkook’s heart knowing he wasn’t there for his friend when it was vital.

It’s why Jimin is the way he is. And honestly, Jungkook can’t even blame him.

But he makes a good point—make you do the chasing.

And, surprisingly enough, it works.

The things Jungkook used to do for you, to make your relationship with him work and prove that just because he’s a celebrity, it doesn’t mean he can’t be a trusting, average boyfriend. Those facetime calls were always initiated by him in the past; now it’s your name that pops up on his lock screen with a cute selfie he saved as your contact photo.

He learns that you don’t love going to his shows, not because you weren’t a fan of his music, but because you just didn’t love loud spaces. It’s why you prefer those special floors of the library, where there’s quiet muttering since it’s not a ‘quiet zone’ but enough sound for white noise in the background. It helped that you didn’t like entirely hushed rooms either.

But you meet him after, wrapped in a coat despite him telling you to stay home because it’s too cold outside. And yet, you ignore his requests with a sweet smile on your face, tugging not on your just lips, but his heartstrings, with a honeyed, “hello,” when he spots you standing outside their van.

“What are you doing here?” He says, voice mixed between anger that you’re standing out in the freezing cold but excited because the girl of his dreams came to see him after a show. “I thought I said stay home.”

“I’m an adult, I can make adult decisions,” you state firmly, bouncing in the soles of your shoes. “I wanted to drop by. Ask if you want to hang out.”

Jungkook lifts a brow. “It’s late.”

“We can hang out at my apartment,” you reason, and Jungkook could hear the giggles from in the car coming from his band mates. He could almost feel the heat radiating off of you that rose to your cheeks in embarrassment, but bold and loving is how you’re trying to present yourself in front of Jungkook since he’d always been the one to give. “So… what do you say?”

“Say yes, you idiot!” Taehyung hollers and Namjoon slaps his hand over his mouth.

With a hearty laugh, Jungkook gestures his head to the van. “What Tae said. Sure. I’ll come over.”

You don’t live in the same apartment building as you used to. Just like yourself, you’ve moved on to bigger and better things.

For one, it’s spacious and not cramped like your old studio. Your kitchen, dining room, and bedroom aren’t in the same vicinity, and where you sleep has its own four walls that don't take you to the next room after two steps forward. Instead, you’ve not only graduated with a PhD, but you’ve also graduated from a studio to a one bedroom apartment.

It’s kind of nice seeing you in a different setting—just a few years ago, you were struggling to make ends meet; rationalizing amounts of food, calculating how much of a dollar gets split to what but now you’re asking him if you could treat him out for dinner.

When you slide your jacket off, putting it on a hanger to toss onto the rod in the closet, he grows slightly anxious. It’s not like how it was two years ago, it’s not even close. You’re the vocal one here, taking the lead in this so-called relationship, and once again, you’ve got him feeling weak in his knees for you.

“Are you okay?” You ask, breaking the silence. It’s easy to sense his nervousness, especially when Jungkook doesn’t often get that way around you. He’s usually comfortable, calm, and cool, but tonight, he exhibits the characteristics of the old version of yourself when he was bolder.

Jungkook clears his throat. “Mm,” he hums, as if something really was stuck in there, but the only thing lodged in his throat are his words. “I’m uh, I’m good. We’re… we’re hanging here?”

“Yeah,” you respond, pursing your lips as you extend your arm. At first, Jungkook’s heart starts racing, thinking you’re asking to hold his hand, but you gesture to the jacket over his shoulder and he mentally sighs of relief. “I made some cookies. Wanna drink coke and watch a movie?”

This… makes Jungkook laugh. A laugh that he hasn’t had in a while, one that roars from the depths of his chest, one that’s so genuine and warm, one that he hasn’t caught himself reacting in this way in a while. There’s something simple about how you say it—so harmless, casual and innocent. Dirty thoughts don’t surround your head, just a sweet night with him and junk food.

The night is blissful. He gets to shower in your bathroom, doused in that intoxicating lavender you emit off your skin, and get into his sweatpants instead of those leather pants he always wears on stage.

“I didn’t expect you to be there tonight,” he says, ruffling his damp hair. “It was cold, and I said not to go.”

“I thought we went through this,” snatching the remote from the coffee table, you’re already skimming through your abundance of options on Netflix. “I’m an adult who can make adult decisions.”

He can’t help himself. That grin that pierces through his exterior is hard to control. “And is one of them choosing ‘Soul’ as an option for a movie night? You realize that’s a kid movie, right?”

Flabbergasted, your head jolts to his gaze. “Have you ever even watched it?”

You’re cute. “No but—”

“Jeon Jungkook, just because films are animated doesn’t mean they’re limited to the viewing of only children.”

And, you’re right. He finds himself on the verge of shedding tears, and despite it being the fourth time watching it, you don’t fail to cry every time.

Maybe he shouldn’t do this anymore. Maybe he should stop playing these games, stop testing you and seeing if you truly mean what you say because life is too short to spend wasting it on wondering on the ‘what if’s’ when he has you right here, just fingertips lengths away on your loveseat couch. Because you’re here, you’ve asked him to keep you company tonight, and you don’t run away from your feelings like you used to.

Quite frankly, that’s all he asks.

You’re everything else he hopes for you to be, and yes, you have flaws, but who doesn’t? But with you—he just wanted to understand you, and for you to reciprocate it.

Now that you have, what was he waiting for?

It doesn’t take long for you to get tangled in the sheets with him, Jungkook’s hand finding a way to slide up the side of your face, threading through your hair that falls loose from its bun. Lips locked, sucking and licking, he misses the sweetness of you, how disorientated he gets from just being with you, and how happy you make him.

Hazy, he pulls away with a string of saliva between the two of you. Your irises are swirls of the skies, the ones that lead to an unknown, yet he feels comfortable like this. And part of him finds comfort that you’re just as uneasy and complacent as he is. “Is this okay?” Jungkook asks, and you feel your chest tightening from the motive of the question.

“If you’re okay, I’m okay,” you answer softly, eyelids fluttering closed. Lashes damp, they brush the highs of your cheeks so prettily, so effortlessly, just as you’ve stolen his heart.

“I want you to be okay,” he clarifies, and you nod with a soft, reassuring smile.

“I’m always okay if it’s with you.”

You’ve had previous lovers before. Ones that claimed to love you, and ones that weren’t technically ‘lovers’ but were flings. And comparing this experience with Jungkook to them makes you realize a couple things.

That darkened gaze he has on you, tongue pressed flat against your clit, hands on your thighs to push you down, stopping you from shutting your legs. Fingers raking through his wavy hair, your head throws back with a gasp when he sucks, the sound filling your ears and heat rises up to your face. Were you that wet already? He’s barely got his mouth on you, and the fact he’s got you so weak already makes you slightly embarrassed.

But Jungkook doesn’t care. He just wants to see that pretty face contort in pleasure when he does that thing with his tongue that other girls claimed sent them to heaven. (He won’t tell you they said that though. They’re in the back of his mind.)

Kissing the side of your thighs, you’re woozy, attempting your best to catch your breath, but a finger slips into your opening before you’re able to relax. His lips wrap around your nub once more, and when he thrusts another finger in, you’re unraveling under his touch and you see whites behind your lids with a shutter of your body.

Rising up, Jungkook grins cheekily. He’s glad it’s him that’s got you like this, and he’s so full of elation knowing that he gets to be with you in this way. Pushing away the wet strands of your hair that sticks to the side of your face, he gets to see that gorgeous face a bit better. With a gentle peck on your nose and a rub on your cheek with his thumb, it doesn’t take much for him to ask, “are you okay we go further?”

Yes. Yes! Fuck yeah. Totally. Shit, yeah. But you don’t want to seem too excited around him, no, it’s too early in the relationship. With a cool, calm tone, you reply with an airy, “yes.” If only you knew that your heart skipped a beat because he’s such a gentleman, even with a raging boner in his boxers that was starting to hurt.

He swallows. He’s slept with you, but he’s never had sex with you before. Although there’s going to be many more times after this, the first is always special. Even when he accidentally bumps noses and foreheads with you clumsily, the imperfection of it is what swells his chest. It makes this real.

Pulling away, Jungkook tugs off his briefs before pumping his cock a couple times. The bead that sits atop of his dick gets smeared with his thumb, and even though you’re tempted to suck him off, Jungkook doesn’t even give you enough time to insinuate it because he’s already rolling a condom on and positioning himself in between your legs.

“Last chance,” he says breathily, holding himself back from fucking you apart because this sight of you, with that layer of sweat glistening from the dim lights in the room, has him swooning like some horny teenager. “Are you okay with this?”

Chewing on your bottom lip shyly, you nod.

Those past ‘lovers’ make you feel like the fumbles during sex are bad. They make those moments that seem innocent, despite the not-so-innocent act, feel wrong. The wet bed sheet underneath you are normal, and when kisses get messy, it’s not gross, it’s sexy. And with Jungkook, he makes you feel okay with all these things, even more.

Nose dug into the crook of his neck, you suck on the exposed skin gently before placing a ginger kiss on the flesh. His thrusts are languid, fearing that he’d hurt you, but when you give him the go with a whisper to his ear of all the dirty things you want him to do you, Jungkook doesn’t just have to hold himself back from splitting you apart, but also the fact he might cum too fast from your sultry words.

It doesn’t take long, but he makes sure you reach your orgasm once more.

And when your eyes are clenched shut, brows dipping in satisfaction with your lips opening with a quiet moan, Jungkook pistons his hips several times more before he stills, ropes of cum released into the condom.

Cleaning you up, he then tosses the condom and used tissue into a trash bin nearby before pressing a tender peck on your lips.

With your head resting on his chest and his arm around your frame, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be than in the embrace of Jeon Jungkook. Even if you needed two years to figure it out, you’re glad you did. And him? Although the time apart broke him, the healing made him a better person. A realistic one, one that doesn’t always have his head up in the clouds for love.

With a quick strum of his electric guitar, the sound blares through the speakers of the venue. Jungkook steals a quick glance at Jimin, who mirrors that same content smile as himself, and that sparkle in his eyes returns from a hiatus that he never realized wasn’t there for a while.

The crowd is different tonight, and he could say that he can’t pinpoint why, but Jungkook knows why.

It’s you.

He hates being that hopeless romantic that claims you responsible for all these changes in his life, but you are the reason. He’s never seen his bandmates this… harmonious in the past two years. The way that Yoongi actually laughs, smacking Taehyung’s arm when he’s joking around too much, Namjoon shaking his head when Hoseok chimes in, and Seokjin nagging at them for it—he missed this. And he missed turning around midway through the show, watching their heads bobbing to the music, lost in the tunes and immersed in making their dreams come true.

Jungkook can’t help but let that smile tug from the edges of his mouth, especially when he spots you in the crowd, swaying side to side with a friend of yours, beer in hand and sporting that cute grey t-shirt with his band name on it with a pair of jeans. Everything about this feels right. He doesn’t even care that it’s the third bra thrown on stage in the past twenty minutes. He’s happy to be here.

All Jungkook wants is love. And to share the success of his dreams with the people he loves.

And finally, he gets to.

He gets to share that with both you and his best friends.

#52HERTZ #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts x reader #bts fanfic #gyukultfics #idk what else to tag so

2K notes · View notes

lavienjin · 3 years

Text

first love | myg

synopsis: After an incredibly long day, Yoongi found you crying in the copy room. Though he doesn't talk much, you've always found his presence comforting, and it didn't surprise you when he stayed and listen to you vent. However, while you sought comfort in his embrace, he proposed a special offer to reduce your stress with the magic of his hands. The only catch to your arrangement? You couldn't fall in love.

But wouldn't you know it, just as your friendship deepens into something more, you find an old notebook sitting on his bookshelf, and in it, a collection of poems. The last entry has you reeling because it's addressed to you. And in that page, a single line is written: Without you, I am nothing.

→ part of the virtue, vice, and everything nice collab.

pairing: yoongi x reader

wc: 11.3k

genre/rating/au: 18+ | fwb, coworkers, f2l au | smut, angst

warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, semi public sex, multiple smut scenes, multiple orgasms, oral (m. & f. receiving), masturbation, exhibition, lots of feelings. like a lot of feelings :(

author's note: i'm fully aware that this song is about a piano but i don't want to write angsty musician yoongi since it hits a little close to home, so i put my own spin into it. thank you to the lovely @ddaechwita for the banner! this is part of @missgeniality's wings collab so please make sure to check out the rest of the authors! ♥

i wanna give a shoutout to one of my favourite authors out there! @yoonia happy heckin birthday, my love!! i tried to channel your energy when i was writing this. truly, your fics give me a lot of inspiration!!!

m.list | ao3

You first entered Helion Game Company together as interns, assigned to comb through thousands of customer complaints while sitting across from each other.

Yoongi didn’t speak much; opting to tilt his head every time you greeted him good morning, but the way his eyes twinkled as he listened to you talk about your weekend caused a confusing array of feelings to emerge quietly in your heart. And the feelings continue to blossom whenever you return to find the occasional tangerine next to your computer after you’ve had a long day.

To you, Yoongi would always be that seemingly aloof coworker with a tight rein on his emotions, but one whose voice can command the entire room with just the simplest of words. It wasn’t surprising that he rose quickly through the ranks and you watched with quiet pride when he was inducted into the Senior Sound Engineers circle for the next version launch of the company’s hit mobile game.

Though it took you a few more months, you soon joined him in the ranks to work alongside the project with a team of Creative Directors. Introducing yourself to a room of ambitious souls was a nerve-wracking experience, but it was only made bearable when you caught Yoongi’s eyes in the back of the room as his warm presence continued to provide a quiet flow of support that strengthened your nerve. Ever since that day, you held his gaze steadfastly whenever you presented a new concept to the team, and if you’re lucky, you’d find a tangerine sitting prettily on your desk the next morning.

With the highly anticipated one-year anniversary launch coming up soon, you’re swamped with endless meetings to finalize the details that would be included, so much so that you’d find yourself reminiscing about the early days. Though combing through a never-ending list of demands from players was tedious, you relished in the quiet that surrounded you and Yoongi, the two of you lost in your own worlds with only the clicks of keyboards accompanying your routines.

As time and busyness enveloped your lives, they robbed you from seeing one another and it didn’t surprise you to learn that the sprouting feelings you once had for the ebony-haired man were eventually absorbed by the cacophony of noise around you. However, not all is lost, because you’ve gathered the scattered petals on the ground and chose to call it a different name: friendship.

And though it felt like months since you last talked or even been in the same room with each other, you couldn’t help but smile at the rare moments when you’re greeted in the morning with the comforting scent from the small, citrus fruit.

---

The day started out rather pleasant, the stifling summer air made way for a gentle breeze, cooling down the normal heatwave that lurks in the alleys of the city. You hadn’t even slept that terribly, even waking up before your alarm clock to enjoy the morning air as you sipped coffee from your favourite mug. As you smiled at the chirping birds in a nearby tree, you just can’t shake the feeling that today was going to be great.

Or so you thought.

As soon as you arrive at the office, your lifted spirits deflate as your assistant frantically calls your name in near tears.

“Dowon leaked the character concept,” she informs you in a high-pitch shriek as you shouldered your way through a sea of panicking bodies. “Namjoon wants to see you.”

From what you can gather in the few minutes you had with your assistant as you turned around to walk in the other direction towards Namjoon’s office, the newest artist in your team, Dowon, had posted a selfie of himself on Twitter that contained the early sketches of the not-yet-released Yuna in the background. He hadn’t realized his mistake until he checked his ever-buzzing phone, and upon looking at the encroaching thousands of retweets and likes, his panic was evident in his pallor. Although he deleted the tweet immediately after his discovery, the news had already spread like wildfire – with users reposting the tweets on multiple platforms outside of just Twitter.

When you enter Namjoon’s office, his back is turned towards you. He’s talking to someone on the phone in harsh whispers, though your deafening heart rate makes it hard for you to piece together the words.

“G-Good morning,” comes a timid voice from your side.

You blink in surprise at Dowon’s trembling figure. Of course, he’d be here, but your mind had been so preoccupied with the disaster that you hadn’t noticed his presence. With his shoulders raised to the skies, he sinks into himself, unable to meet your gaze. You’re suddenly parched, throat constricting around your reply, unable to push the words out, so you offered him a half-hearted smile instead.

Your attention is stolen when Namjoon clears his throat. The blue tie on his neck is slightly loose, and the way he sighs as he slumps on his dark leather chair causes a stone to drop in your stomach. When Namjoon regards you with his steel gaze, his mouth is pulled into a grim line.

“I assume you’ve been informed about what happened?”

Dowon squeaks from beside you and you steal a quick glance at the pitiful man, your heart clenching at the unshed tears in his eyes. He isn’t the best artist in your team, but he does work the hardest. If Namjoon decides to terminate his contract, it will be hard for you to hire another artist so late into the development.

You nod. “Minju told me what happened on our walk to your office, yes.”

Namjoon’s face is unreadable, a stone mask that doesn’t betray what he’s thinking. The only indication that this situation may be worse than what you’d imagine is the way Namjoon’s tongue prods the inside of his cheek, a rare expression you’ve only seen a handful of times in your employment.

You’re unable to breathe with the thick, palpable tension in the air. Namjoon studies both your figures in the silence, and you wonder if he’s quietly enjoying this.

“Dowon,” he says calmly. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I’m—I’m sorry, sir. It w-won’t happen again,” Dowon stammers. He bows as he balls his slacks into his fists.

Namjoon nods and returns his attention to you. “Tell me, how’s his performance as of late?”

You feel a prickling sensation as Dowon’s pleading gaze snaps to you. “His work is consistent.” You maintain the intense eye contact with Namjoon, resolute in defending your employee. “You won’t find another artist like him this late in the game, sir.”

Tension releases your body from its hold when Namjoon shifts his gaze away from you. The breath of relief you let out seems to reassure Dowon, and from the corner of your eye, you can see the way his shoulders begin to relax.

“Dowon, you may go,” Namjoon announces.

You offer a congratulatory smile at the man beside you, one he returns with a deep bow before he scurries out of Namjoon’s office. The unsettling feeling returns to your stomach when the door shuts behind you.

“Unfortunately,” Namjoon mutters, his expression turning grim once more. “I have some bad news for you.”

---

You can’t stop the hot tears from making their way down your cheeks as you barricade yourself in the copy room. Your team, possibly sensing your ire after you left Namjoon’s office without so much as a hint of a smile, has left you alone to wallow until it was time for them to go, where they quietly slip away without so much as a wave.

“Stupid thing!” you grumble, kicking the wheel of the copier in frustration.

For the past hour or so, you’ve been trying to print the incident report you’ve painstakingly typed out all afternoon. Your meeting with Namjoon has left a nasty mark on your otherwise pristine office life. You can’t blame him, knowing that the decision has been made prior to you stepping foot on the ugly navy carpet of your office, but you can’t help the anger that rises steadily towards the man either.

After Dowon left, having been dismissed by Namjoon, your boss informed you that you’ve been written up for your negligence, which, as you spat out to him that morning, was complete and utter bullshit. Namjoon patiently listened to you rant as you plead your case, but your passionate words didn’t make a dent in his armour.

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon murmured as he handed you a yellow slip. “Please have this signed along with the incident report. I expect it on my desk first thing in the morning.”

The beeping from the printer breaks you of your thoughts and you cast your gaze down to the LCD screen flashing red and yellow, signifying yet another paper jam on the side of the printer.

Defeat pulls you down on to the floor, where you bring your knees close to your chest as you bury your face into your hands.

“Hey, are you okay?”

You lift your face to meet Yoongi’s worried gaze. Great.

“Yeah,” you sniffle, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just been a really long day.” You let out a half-hearted chuckle, one that Yoongi returns with a sad smile.

He makes his way to your crouched figure before sitting down next to you, both your backs leaning against the printer. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”

Though you’re touched by his sincerity, a part of you hesitates to tell him what’s wrong, especially since your interactions thus far have been minute due to your busy schedules.

Sensing your reluctance, Yoongi nudges you lightly with his shoulders, a growing smile on his face. “Come on,” he urges. “I’ve heard you talk about your weekend since we were interns. You were never shy about discussing your thoughts before, why are you hiding them from me now?”

With a shuddering sigh, you smile gratefully at Yoongi before highlighting the unfortunate moments from this morning. True to his nature, Yoongi listens closely as you speak, chiming in once or twice with a few hums. Though as you begin to retell what happened in Namjoon’s office, Yoongi tenses beside you, his once worried expression morphing into fury.

“What the fuck?” Yoongi slams his fist to the copier behind you. “That’s bullshit!”

“Yeah? Well, tell that to Namjoon,” you snicker. In all the time you’ve known Yoongi, you have never seen him so upset. “It’s fine, really. I’ve never been written up before, so it’s not the end of the world. Plus, Namjoon said that it was out of his hands,” you sigh. “I just hope it doesn’t look bad on my performance review.”

Yoongi releases his bottom lip from his teeth, but not after he tortures it to a point where you see little pricks of red peeking through the soft tissue. Your hand moves on its own as you wipe his bottom lip with your thumb, tutting at the small injury. When you realize what you’ve done, you snatch your hand away quickly, your cheeks aflame when Yoongi looks at you with wide eyes.

“I’m so sorry, force of habit!” you stammer. “I have cousins and they’re a messy bunch, always wrestling with each other and getting cuts all over.”

God! What was wrong with you? With a silent prayer for the ground to open up, you bury your face into your hands, trying to hide away the embarrassment colouring your face.

“Thank you.”

With an amused chuckle, Yoongi gingerly removes your palms from your face to force your gaze back to his. “I mean it,” he whispers as he lets go of your hands. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” you utter just as quietly. “Really, I should be thanking you for listening to me; not just about this fiasco, but for all the times I bugged you during our intern days.”

Yoongi tilts his head, his smile faltering slightly. “That’s assuming that you’re a bother.” At your protests, he begins to laugh, shaking his head. “Nah, I like listening to you talk,” he beams. “If I hated your voice, I wouldn’t have listened to you drone on and on about the countless awful blind dates your friends set you up with.”

“Oh my god! Why would you bring that up?” you laugh, smacking him lightly on the shoulder. “Anyway, I should probably get on with this,” you pat the printer a few times, “I still have an incident report to print out.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes at the mention of your task. “Leave it until the morning. It’s all formality anyway.”

“I would never have guessed that one of the greatest sound engineers in our company is a troublemaker.”

He chuckles at your teasing grin. Maybe it’s just your imagination, but there’s an amused glint in his eyes as he murmurs, with a voice so low that goosebumps appear on your skin, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

Your thoughts slow to a crawl as he pins you with his gaze. Was his face always this close to you? Breathing becomes secondary as your heart hammers in its cage. What was he thinking behind those rich irises?

“Yoongi, I…” you begin, but you’re not sure what you wanted to say next.

The spell breaks when his lips curl up into an easygoing smile. “Come on.” Yoongi stands and offers you a hand. “I’ll help you with the printer, only if you promise to get a drink with me.”

Bewildered at his sudden offer, you can only muster a nod as he helps you stand.

“Okay, let’s see what’s going on with this thing…”

You watch Yoongi work on the printer for a few minutes, though really, your mind is drifting further away as the feelings you thought had disappeared seem to resurface back into reality. After opening two separate compartments in the printer, Yoongi’s able to find the source of the jam and removed it, instructing you to press a few buttons on the small LCD screen. Like magic, the flashing red warning sign stops and a little jingle resounds instead before the machine begins to spit out your documents into the tray.

“How did you…” you begin, staring in awe as the printer staples your report together.

“Well, the IT guys were taking a long time to appear this one time and our team really needed to print some reports. Since no one seemed to know what to do, I just rolled up my sleeves and opened it to find the issue,” he explains as he hands you the stack of paper. “Ever since then, every time this printer acts up, my team usually comes to me for help.”

Yoongi flashes an amused smirk in your direction as he wipes his toner-covered hands with a handkerchief. “So, ready for that drink?”

---

The walk to the trendy bar just a little way outside of your office is filled with a round of 20 questions. It’s strange to see Yoongi in this light, so animated and full of life. He talked about college; how he switched majors from business despite his parents’ disapproval. In return, you talk about your favourite musicians before learning that you listen to similar genres.

When you enter the mostly full bar and squeeze yourselves into the booth, the conversation never ceases, only stopping briefly when a waiter comes to take your order. Not wanting to drink on an empty stomach, you ordered a plate of appetizers – wings and nachos – to accompany your liquor.

“Good choice. They have the best nachos here,” Yoongi comments just as the waiter takes your menu and leaves.

“Oh? Do you come here often?”

“Yeah. They have live music a few times a month and my friend recently got a gig here, so I showed up to support him.” Yoongi points to the dim stage area where a microphone and a singular chair stand.

“That’s sweet of you! Okay, what else don’t I know about you, Yoongi… Do you have a secret identity? Office worker by day, criminal mastermind by night?” you tease.

Yoongi laughs into his hand, shaking his head. “Oh, if I was a criminal mastermind, I wouldn’t be stuck working at an office job. I’d just steal a bunch of money so I can live in peace.”

Just as you begin to ask about his plans for conquering the world, your food and drinks arrive, holding off the conversation for a later time. You’re too busy munching on your nachos and sipping your liquor of choice that it takes you a moment to realize that Yoongi stopped eating.

“What’s up?” you ask.

Yoongi studies you as he brings the glass of beer to his lips. “Nothing, I’m just glad you’re finally yourself again.”

“It helps that I have a friend to talk to,” you beam. “Thanks for taking me out tonight too.”

“Don’t mention it,” he smiles. “Sorry, I got a bit in my head there because I felt like I was pushing you to go when you didn’t want to.”

“Honestly? I’m glad you did. If not, I would’ve been at home alone to just drink myself under. That can’t be healthy.”

“Oh, and drinking in a relatively crowded bar is?” he fires back before bursting into laughter.

“That’s not what I meant!” you protest with a pout, stuffing your face full of nachos.

You continue to eat until only the platter empties. Through the night, the empty glasses beside you increase in quantity as you let yourself go with the flow of conversation and music. Once, Yoongi made you try something called a ‘Blue Moon’, his favourite beer imported from the Midwestern area of the United States that is served with a slice of orange.

“That reminds me, I never thanked you for the tangerines you leave on my desk,” you muse, drinking the last of the beer. The citrusy taste lingers on your tongue even as you switch over to chug a glass full of water.

Yoongi grins as he raises his glass. “Of course. A good job always deserves a reward.”

“Oh, and what kind of reward are you looking for?” You couldn’t help but snort when Yoongi chokes on his drink.

“You’ll pay for this one day,” he pouts as he cleans up his mess with a napkin.

Sure, your day was less than stellar, but after the Yoongi’s presence, you couldn’t help the smile that found its way into your face as you crawled into bed.

---

The next couple of days after the incident was just as you expected. The office is abuzz with gossip when you enter, with some brave folks asking if what transpired during Namjoon’s office was true. You confirmed what little you could, preferring to keep the details of your write up a secret, away from loose lips.

Though the energy surrounding your team has shifted, some are wary of working with Dowon in the event that another leak, your spirits lift slightly when you spy a familiar round orange fruit on top of your files this morning. Unlike all the other instances however, this one has a note attached to it.

“Drinks are on me tonight.”

And maybe… just maybe, things aren’t so bad after all.

---

“Fuck!” You slam the empty glass to the table, causing a few patrons to look over in your direction.

“Whoa, settle down there.” Yoongi’s comforting presence has not placated your anger the way it normally would.

Despite the launch happening within less than a month, your team is behind on some of the last-minute touches for the characters, making you work overtime for the past few days now. Speaking of the devil, your phone chimes and you spy the email that one of your employees sent you, asking for approval on a last-minute design change.

You type your confirmation with a low grumble under your breath, upset that even with the weekend within sight, your team is still hard at work.

“I’m sorry, Yoongi,” you mutter as you lock your phone and stash it back in your purse. “I’m sure it’s hellish on your end too and I’m taking this out on you.”

“I guess I should feel honoured?” he snickers, raising his glass to you. “When you were written up, you barely opened up to me and now look at us, drinking away our stress in the same booth every other day.”

You tap the bottom of his beer with your glass before taking a sip, grimacing as the liquor burns its way down your throat. “Well, it beats drinking alone,” you sigh.

Over the past month now, ever since the incident, you and Yoongi have made a point to meet at the bar every now and again, mostly to complain about work.

“Your blood pressure is off the charts, huh?”

“I feel like I’ll probably die before I reach 40 if this is how my team handles every launch,” you grumble, not affected by his joviality.

“Relax, tomorrow’s Friday! And then we have a long weekend ahead of us. Just bear with it for one more day, okay?”

You grumble an unintelligible response as you sip on your drink. Numb from the drinks, you’re not as perceptive as you usually are, completely missing the way he’s currently staring at you. His lips are downturned as he absentmindedly drums his fingers on the side of his beer before he finally pipes up.

“You know… I can help you with that. Your stress, I mean. I know that this was pretty much my idea – to get drunk and forget the stress” – you can’t help but raise your glass and chug as he continues to speak – “but I may have a healthier alternative.”

“Okay, spill. What do you have in mind?”

“I can always make you cum.”

As though he didn’t just drop the biggest bomb in your time together, Yoongi continues to drink his beer nonchalantly, while your mind struggles to comprehend what he just said.

“I’m sorry… what? Are you serious?”

“Of course, I am,” he shrugs. “I mean, I heard an orgasm is the best way to get over your stress and I’m pretty confident in my abilities.”

Your brain is unable to form the correct syllables to convey your thoughts.

The fact that Yoongi finds you attractive is a miracle in itself, especially when he walks around charming everyone in the office with his swoopy black hair and easy smile. Maybe your crush on him is slowly rearing its head again after all these years, but you aren’t sure if you’re willing to risk changing the relationship you currently have. Being Yoongi’s friend has been easy; he’s a great listener and you’re only scratching the surface behind the quiet exterior he presents.

However, somewhere deep inside, you must’ve wanted to change the dynamic to something more, or else why would you be questioning his proposal so intently?

While you’re busy staring into the amber liquid in your glass, Yoongi reaches out to cover the back of your hand with his, breaking you from the internal struggle in your mind. “Hey, if you’re not into it, don’t worry,” he chuckles, with a shrug of his shoulders. “I’m just offering my services. No strings attached, kind of deal.”

The question stands: why? As you stare into the hand that’s currently enveloping yours, you can’t fathom why someone like Yoongi would give you the time of day. It didn’t seem real – his proposal. But then, your gaze drifts to his face and after spending so much time with him, you know that Yoongi isn’t one to joke around.

“Don’t think about it too hard, okay?” He speaks just as he spies the waiter coming towards you with your check. “Looks like the bar’s going to close pretty soon. So, how about we get out of here and call it a night?”

---

That night, you toss and turn in your sheets, feeling a sense of emptiness. You can’t help but replay the scene from the bar – specifically Yoongi's nonchalant proposal.

Unable to sleep, you think. And then you think some more. Until your head is swimming with alcohol and something else.

And that’s when you call Yoongi at 3:22 in the morning, slightly surprised that he’s still awake.

"On the topic of what we talked about in the bar tonight…” you begin, biting your bottom lip nervously.

Yoongi groans on the other line. “I’m serious when I said you shouldn’t worry about it. We’re cool. If you’re not into the idea, I get—”

You cut him off before he could ramble further, smirking into the phone. “How confident are you?”

Instead of answering, Yoongi chuckles. “Wear a skirt and you’ll find out tomorrow, hm?”

---

It isn’t strange for you to be seated next to Yoongi during the manager’s meeting, especially since how closely you have to work with the sound department, but you can’t help but squirm in your seat as you attempt to listen to Namjoon summarizing the development reports he received in preparation for the launch.

Your seat is pushed almost flushed against the table, with the edge digging into your abdomen, to hide Yoongi’s fingers that are currently trailing ambiguous shapes into your skin. Coupled with the fact that he’s currently holding your panties hostage in the pockets of his slacks, every time you feel the cold bite of his metal rings when he travels higher, you clench around nothing while trying not to whine in front of the twenty-something people gathered in the room.

Taking a chance to look around the room, you’re only met with bored faces and yawning mouths, and there’s a subtle groan when Namjoon moves the PowerPoint slides to talk about last season’s numbers. However, whatever brilliant revelation he’s about to impart on you is drowned out by the roaring desire when Yoongi’s fingertips brush against your folds.

He whistles low while staring at the pie chart, and the few chuckles floating from the back of the room assume that he’s talking about the high numbers last season brought in, when in actuality, Yoongi’s pleasantly surprised at how wet you already are; your pussy sucking his fingers in down to the second knuckle.

The breath leaves your lungs when Namjoon raises an eyebrow when his gaze floats over to the two of you.

“Tell me about it. You really knocked it out of the park with the background music for the new area,” he chuckles, nodding his praise to Yoongi.

The corner of Yoongi’s lips twitch, a smirk threatening to take over his features. Oh, if only your coworkers knew.

Your poor bottom lip is bruised and swollen from your constant need to swallow down your moans. Sweat slicks all over your arms and back as you sit rigid, your legs pushed apart, and Yoongi’s unhurried fingers traverse your sopping cunt, taking care not to make too much noise in the otherwise quiet meeting room.

“All right, that’s pretty much all I have for you today. Thanks for letting me drone on for an hour,” he winces when he looks at the clock, “…and a half. Enjoy the rest of the day,” Namjoon chuckles as he adjourns the meeting.

You exhale gradually when Yoongi leaves your cunt as the others begin to stand. On one hand, you’re relieved, grateful that you weren’t caught because you were definitely breaking a slew of code violations while you’re getting handsy on the table. On the other, the strong need to orgasm only surges in your veins, wanting nothing more than to have Yoongi fuck you right then and there; consequences be damned.

“Aren’t you getting up?” Yoongi quips, an amused grin on his face.

You glower at his smirk, unable to form a sensible comeback with your heartbeat still steadfast on a thundering rhythm. When you do get out of your chair, the grip you hold on to the back is strong, your legs feeling like jelly after being teased for so long.

“I’m fine,” you grumble as Yoongi extends a hand – the one that was inside of you just mere moments ago.

With your shaky legs, you walk stiffly out of the meeting room, but not after stealing a glance around the remaining crowd to see if anyone noticed anything strange. Everyone, including Namjoon, seemed indifferent.

“And how was that?” Yoongi questions once you’re out of earshot.

“Unbelievably hot. I think I could’ve cum if Namjoon kept on talking,” you admit with a grin.

“Interesting,” he hums. “Do you have any meetings after this?”

Before answering his question, you look through your phone calendar. “Nope, I don’t have anything until 2pm.” That’s a lie – you meant to check in with your artists all day today, but the curiosity got the better of you and you wonder what it was he has planned.

“Come to my office in half an hour? I’ll make sure we’re undisturbed.”

Though he posed it as a question, you know it’s anything but.

Yoongi walks away with a smirk and you have to bring your legs together as you anticipate what he has planned next.

---

This is nothing like the meeting this morning.

Yoongi has you pressed up against the copier, holding your leg up as his fingers return to their rightful place inside you. The metal bits dig into your shoulders as you shift your hips, allowing him access into your deepest parts.

“Yoongi—”

The whine you let out is nothing short of pathetic as you rut in time with his thrusts. The sleeves of his dress shirt are seeped with your arousal, yet Yoongi doesn’t care, too focused on your pussy swallowing his fingers whole.

“Look at you,” he breathes, marvelling at the way your chest rises and falls rapidly. “So needy and wet. Keep your voice down, hm? We don’t want the whole office to hear us, do we?”

You inhale sharply before busying yourself with your bottom lip as he slams his hand repeatedly inside, his fingertips stroking the patch of nerves that has your body jerking in his grip. The coil has been building for some time now – your head is already swimming with desire. When his thumb presses circles on your clit, you know it’s only a matter of minutes before you come undone.

“S-So close,” you whimper. You’re arching your back as you’re practically sprawled all over the copy machine.

“Just let go, cum all over my hands,” he rasps before dipping lower to graze his teeth along your pulse point. “Cum for me.”

With a strangled moan, your body obeys his command. “Yoongi—fuck.”

While your team is out there, perfecting the project that’s due in a matter of weeks, you’re pulled apart at the seams – the orgasm slamming into you like waves as it cascades down your spine, making you shudder.

“Good girl, so good to me,” Yoongi mumbles absentmindedly into your hair. “So pretty when you cum.”

Your vision is blurry, filled with dancing lights as you attempt to calm your breathing. When Yoongi slips his fingers out of your cunt, you hiss, aching at the sensitivity. He massages your thighs with a hum, paying attention to the leg that was propped up for the entire duration of the… events.

“How’d I do?” he teases as he helps you smooth out the wrinkles from your skirt.

You’re honestly still reeling. Though your heart isn’t traveling a thousand miles an hour, it’s still clocking in the upper hundreds. Yet, your body did feel lighter, your mind also clearer somehow. You must admit, Yoongi orchestrated your body like an expert conductor – as though he’s known you all your life. No one has made you cum that quickly before.

Perhaps you should’ve kept those thoughts to yourself because you can see the way Yoongi seems to glow at your compliment: pride filling his chest along with a confident smirk on his face.

“Now, can I have my panties back, please?” you whisper as you hold out your hand.

Yoongi seemed to think for a moment, his lips turned upwards to the side. At your amusement and horror, he shakes his head. “I think I’ll hold on to these for the rest of the day.”

“Yoongi,” you state flatly, nervousness clawing up your belly, but you can’t deny the thrill either, so you don’t push it.

After he makes sure that no one seems to be paying attention to the copy room, Yoongi helps you sneak away, but not before filling your thoughts with some of his other ideas.

---

Your day passes like a blur, and you find yourself locking your legs more often as your distracted brain thinks about the events that happen this morning. The idea of Yoongi walking around the office with your lace underwear stuffed in his slacks makes poor company when you’re trying to work.

Too engrossed in your thoughts, you hadn’t realized that your assistant had let herself in until she called your name again with a cough.

“Sorry,” you smile sheepishly. “I’m a bit distracted right now.”

Your assistant merely smiled demurely as she hands you a stack of reports you requested. “Here’s the information on the developments we’ve made over the past few months and the breakdown of the new region from the programmers for next year’s launch. We can start meeting with them to talk about what they want the art team to start working on.”

You skim through the details, humming along as your assistant explains the finer points of what is written. “Thank you, Suha. This looks good,” you praise.

Suha bows to you with a proud smile, but instead of leaving, she shifts her weight as she stands. “Actually, I was wondering if I could leave in half an hour?” she requests.

A mischievous idea pops in your head and you have to thread your hands together to avoid immediately texting a certain dark-haired man. “Sure,” you chirp in a voice too high as you fail to hide your excitement. Clearing your throat, you try again. “Yes, Suha. You’ve done a good job. Please feel free to leave now if you’d like.”

Suha claps her hands together and bows. “Thank you!” she calls out before disappearing.

When the door to your office closes shut, you fire out a text and hum, fingers drumming impatiently on the oak table as you wait for Yoongi to arrive.

---

“Took you long enough,” you smirk when he opens the door.

“Well, unlike some people, I was busy managing my team.”

Poking his head one more time to make sure that no one’s noticed his arrival, Yoongi closes the door firmly behind him, locking it in place.

“Now, why have you brought me into your office, hm?” he asks rhetorically before stuffing his hands in his pockets and pulling out the familiar garment. “Could it be because of this?”

You laugh quietly with a shake of your head. “Maybe it has something to do with that,” you muse, watching him approach with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. “Or maybe it’s because I’m just so stressed, you know?”

Yoongi chuckles at your insinuation before leaning forward until your faces are inches apart. “And,” he husks, wetting his lips with his tongue, “How can I help you?”

You hum as you grab him by the collar, crashing your lips against his as an answer to his question. In a spectacular feat, Yoongi’s strong arms lift you up from across the table, pulling you flush against his chest as he sits you down in front of him. Your legs wrap around his torso, causing your skirt to rise to display your bare pussy towards him.

Yoongi’s rough hands dig into the meat of your thighs as he grinds into your core. “Tell me. How did it feel walking around the office with no panties all day, hm?”

“Exhilarating,” you admit in a breathless moan, body aflame with desire as you feel his erection drag against your clit.

“And look at you now, so needy and ready for more. What do you think your team would say if they saw you like this?” Every few words are punctuated with Yoongi’s fingers undoing the buttons to your blouse.

“God, don’t ask me that,” you pout, arching your chest forward. “I don’t want to think about work right now.”

At this, he laughs. “Have you been thinking about work at all during the day? Some might say you’re a little distracted.”

Yoongi cuts off whatever retort you had prepared when he kisses along your jawline and down your neck, nipping the skin just harsh enough to send shivers down your spine, as he continues his mission to free your tits from their cage.

“Pretty,” he mumbles into your skin while palming your breasts.

The combined stimulation is almost too much for you to handle. With his hard cock dragging against your bare cunt and his lips attacking your neck, it doesn’t take long before your skin is riddled with goosebumps as you clamp your lips shut to stop yourself from moaning too loudly.

You find a moment of clarity when Yoongi unbuttons his pants, but just as you reach out to help him, a knock resounds at the door.

The two of you looked at each other in a momentary state of panic as you buttoned up your blouse in haste. Your hands tremble, making it hard for the plastic beads to slip into place, but somehow you managed to not wrinkle your clothes too much, though your heart thunders in your ears when you hear Namjoon, of all people, call your name from the other side of the door.

Making sure you’re both half decent, you unlock the door and yank it open, revealing a startled Namjoon in front of you.

“Uh… hey. Are you okay? Why was your door locked?”

You’re sweating and shaking, almost getting caught by your boss will do that to a person, but somehow you manage a curt nod, and when you lie, your voice actually sounded believable. “Yeah, just got a call about some interesting news from my family. How can I help you?”

Namjoon narrows his eyes in suspicion before shaking his head. “How about we talk inside?”

“That… um…” Your brain stalls for an excuse but fails. With a dejected heart, thinking that you’re probably going to get fired at this rate, you seal your fate and let your boss in… only to find yourself staring into an empty office.

Where had Yoongi gone?

Namjoon closes the door behind you and makes his way to your desk. You trail after him but before glancing around the room again. You find your answer when you sit down in your chair. Hunched under the desk is Yoongi, who has both his feet tucked under his chin as he grins at you. If Namjoon catches the way your eyes widen in surprise, he says nothing as you sit down.

“I’m just here to see how you’re doing, especially with the launch happening so soon. Is there anything I can help you with?”

You shift uncomfortably in your chair, especially when you accidentally brush against Yoongi’s leg. “I really appreciate the offer, but you really don’t have to check in on me every single time we have a launch. This isn’t my first time, sir.”

Your boss only sighs, sinking into the chair. “I know, truth be told, I wanted to tell you that I’m in the process of getting your write up to disappear from the HR records since it’s really not your fault.”

“Wait… huh?” You blink at Namjoon slowly, genuinely surprised that he’d go through such lengths.

Namjoon only shrugs. “Yeah, I mean. I feel pretty awful about it. So, I pulled some strings and you have been granted your clean record back. That’s all I wanted to say, really. It just didn’t seem right if I brought it up in the hallway,” he grins, showing off his dimpled cheeks as he finished his explanation.

“Thanks, boss,” you mumble gratefully. “It means a lot to me that you’d do that.”

“Don’t mention it.” Namjoon chuckles. “Anyway, what’s with the interesting call? Is your family okay?”

“Yeah,” you squeak, unprepared for him to call out your lie. “They’re okay, I swear. Just some trouble with my cousins…”

Namjoon seems satisfied with your response, nodding after you trailed off. The silence feels suffocating. After a few more heartbeats, Namjoon stands to leave, calling out behind his shoulder as he opens the door, “Well, if you need anything else, you know where to find me.”

The instant the door clicks shut, you jump away from your chair as you help Yoongi stand.

“You all right?” you ask, looking him up and down before deeming that he’s fine.

The easy-going smile returns to his face almost immediately, giving you a full view of his gums. “That could’ve been bad.” Yoongi checks his watch and smiles, pointing at the time. “But, it’s now technically the weekend. So, how about we pack our things and get the hell out of here, huh?”

---

Yoongi’s apartment is everything like you’d imagine, clean and monochromatic with hints of blue popping here and there. Lining the walls of his bedroom are framed jerseys from a few athletes you recognize, all of them signed and probably costing a good fortune. Besides the decoration, there’s really only one other piece of furniture aside from the bed. Standing on the wall closest to the window is a black floor-to-ceiling bookcase, filled with all sorts of books and a few random photographs of his younger years.

But you have no time to observe fully, not when Yoongi pushes you on the bed with a quiet chuckle, demanding your attention once more as he kisses the length of your throat.

“Now, where were we?” he teases into your skin.

You can only giggle before the sound turns into a groan when his hand digs into the skin of your ass. “I have no idea, but I say, let’s just fuck.”

“Good answer.”

Yoongi doesn’t care to discard your clothing, choosing to simply ruck your skirt to your waist before his hands fit between your legs.

“Yoongi—ah! Stop teasing!” you whine, pressing your back into the mattress as you writhe under his touch.

“Not until I get a taste of you first.”

With a final peck to your lips, Yoongi drops to the edge of the bed before pulling you towards him until you feel his hot breath against your pussy. He takes his time with eating you out – alternating between licking your folds and sucking on your clit – as you moan and gasp around him. Your arousal seeps out of you in a steady trickle, a puddle forming on his sheets.

“Shit…” you grunt. “Do I taste that good?”

“You do,” he mumbles, the deep vibrations from his voice causing you to arch your back. “God, I can taste you all day.”

True to his word, he drowns himself with your pussy, paying more attention to your clit as you feel the orgasm slowly spreading through your body.

“Yoongi, wait,” you breathe, tugging at his dark locks so he’d look at you.

And what a sight he is to behold.

The bottom half of his face is wet with your arousal as he smirks up at you with pupils so blown out, they’re almost black.

“I wanna cum with your cock inside of me,” you confess, sitting up to pull him into a deep kiss. “Haven’t you teased me enough today?”

Yoongi hums into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your body before pushing you back down to the mattress. “I guess that can be arranged,” he chuckles.

With your help, his slacks and underwear are thrown haphazardly on the floor. His cock stands proudly for you to admire; with a leaking reddish tip and a prominent vein running down one side of the shaft. Unable to help yourself, your hand wraps around his length, causing Yoongi to groan as his eyes flutter shut.

“I thought you wanted my cock?” he teases breathlessly.

“Not before I get a taste,” you counter.

Chuckling, he props his pillows along the headboard before settling back, making it easier for you to crawl over and swallow his length. Intent on keeping eye contact, you make short licks around the head before travelling lower, sucking on the tender skin of his balls before moving back up.

“Oh, fuck—” he grunts, hips jumping up when you wrap your lips around the tender head.

While still staring at him through your lashes, you lower yourself until about halfway, the weeping head knocking against the back of your throat making it hard for you to breathe. You hollow your cheekbones as you exit, earning a lovely, guttural groan from the dark-haired man below. Yoongi places a hand on your head as you continue, pumping him in tandem with the movements of your head as you bob up and down his length.

Your remaining hand digs into the skin of his thigh as you take him deeper down your throat, until you manage to sheathe all of him down to the base. Tears spring in your eyes as you whimper around his length, but despite this, you refuse to stop, not when you spy the satisfied smirk on his face that only aids the desire that’s already strong in your veins.

The grip around your scalp tightens as he attempts to pull you off. “I can’t… I’m going to cum if you keep this up.”

His words only add fuel to the fire and you speed up your ministrations despite Yoongi’s attempts to make you stop. Saliva collects into a wet, messy pool on the sheets as you swallow him into your throat. The tears cascade down your face, yet you can’t help but smirk proudly, especially when his lovely eyes flutter shut and his mouth hangs open as he chants your name.

“Fuuuck, I’m going to c-cum—shit!”

You inhale sharply as you push your head down, until his soft curls tickles your nose. A second later, your mouth fills with the salty, bitter taste of cum as Yoongi jerks under your touch, digging his nails into the sheets. You help Yoongi ride out his orgasm with a few pumps of your hand, making sure to collect all the excess without leaving a drop behind. When you’re sure there’s nothing left, you open your mouth to show him your reward before gulping it down with a smile.

With ragged breaths, he watches you swallow with a quirk of his lips; one of the corners pulled up into a half-smirk. “God, that was so fucking hot.”

“It’s your reward for making me feel good this morning,” you wink.

“Are you ready for round 2?” Yoongi asks with a grin.

“I should be asking you that…” But your words trail off when you notice that his dick is still very much hard. “Talk about stamina,” you mumble.

Yoongi chortles as he studies your shell-shocked face. “You look like you’ve never been properly satisfied,” he hums.

“After tonight? I have a feeling that may be the case.”

The two of you burst into laughter before he pulls you closer, kissing you unhurriedly as his hands explore your body to discard your clothes until you lay bare before him.

“You really are gorgeous,” he mumbles as he draws abstract shapes into the small of your back. Catching your eye roll, he chuckles. “I mean it.”

When he sits up to capture your lips, it’s all soft and filled with an emotion you’ve yet to name, and you wished your blood wasn't roaring in your ears because it’s making it incredibly difficult for you to hear what he’s whispering into your skin.

“What were you saying?” you ask when you part. “I think I missed it.”

Yoongi only smiles, but it’s not the brilliant grin that shows the pink of his gums, no, this one is more subdued – delicate – as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Nothing,” he replies, voice low and airy. “I didn’t say anything you don’t already know.”

It’s a strange response, but you really can’t push it further, because in the swirling abyss that exists in the dark pool of his eyes, lies an answer that you’re uncertain you want to know just yet.

Instead, you kiss him again, gliding your lips to get his to open, so your tongues can meet and have the conversation you’re too afraid to voice – for the sake of preserving the moment. You kiss him with ferocity, pushing him back onto the pillows as your hips grind against his hard length.

And when you lower yourself onto his cock, you forget the vow you made, because in this moment, with the moonlight filtering past the sheer curtains in his room, Yoongi is breath-taking. With his soft, dark hair splaying all over the pillows and his slightly swollen lips parted open in a quiet moan; you know you’ve fallen in love. Yoongi’s sincerity is your undoing, ever since the two of you met and sat next to each other when you were interns, and now? As you learn more about him and manage to breach through the quiet exterior? You’re a goner.

And maybe you’re delusional, but you swear, when your lips find his as you begin to move, you can taste the faintest trace of oranges.

Your nails drag down his chest as you roll your hips with his thrusts. “Please,” you beg, but you’re not sure what for. “Please, Yoongi.”

Despite your lack of instructions, Yoongi seems to know exactly what you need. “I got you,” he murmurs as he holds you before flipping you over, letting your chest rest on the mattress below.

Yoongi kisses your spine as he bottoms out again, making you moan into his pillows as he begins to move. “You’re so tight, shit,” he rasps as his fingers find your clit between your legs.

He keeps a steady pace, rocking you back and forth against the bed as you writhe with every drag of his cock and fingers. The only word that exists in your vocabulary at this moment is his name and without shame, you call out to him in a series of pathetic whines. You need him to know how good you feel, but without the ability to form coherent sentences, this is all you can do.

Though just like before, it doesn’t take him long to decipher your tells and he increases his speed, driving his cock deep into your pussy.

Finally, your tongue seems to want to move again. “Feels good… Yoongi…” you manage.

“Yeah? Me too. God, me too.”

He turns you over again then, so that you’re facing him once more. Yoongi crashes his lips to yours as he begins to thrust in earnest, pushing himself deeper than before. Your vision is filled with stars as you grab hold of his neck, rutting in tandem with his drive. What little hold you have left on your sanity wanes as the pressure builds – release so close that it leaves you gasping.

“Gonna-ah c-cum,” you moan, digging your nails into his back.

“Let go,” he commands, and again, he repeats, “I got you.”

The coil snaps at the sound of his promise. “Yoongi!” you shriek, tumbling down the chasm of pleasure. Your walls tightening around his length triggers a second orgasm from him, and with a groan of your name, he floods your insides with his seed.

“Shit… I didn’t—fuck—you felt so good, that I, uhm,” he stutters. Yoongi’s body shudders with pleasure even as he comes down from his high. With a heaving gasp, he collapses next to you, arms too tired to hold himself back up.

You pull him into an embrace while shushing his mumbled speech. “It’s okay, you’re okay. I’m on the pill, so don’t worry,” you assure him. “And if you’re worried if I came, didn’t you hear me scream? My throat is so sore now, holy shit.”

The both of you chuckle, the airy sounds mingling together. In the silence that follows, you don’t think about the feelings that surged in the midst of your coupling; refusing to acknowledge that he’s the reason that has your heart running a thousand miles a second. It isn’t just because of the nature of your relationship, but you’re genuinely worried of the possibility of losing a friend… and yet… Yoongi feels so perfect in your arms like this, with his smiling face smushed slightly to your chest. In the singular day since you’ve started this relationship, he’s made a habit of trailing shapes on the small of your back while humming quietly to a song you don’t know.

The soothing action pulls you away from your overbearing thoughts for a second. While planting a kiss into his hair, you ask him, “What’s the name of this song?”

“You like it?” Yoongi nuzzles further into your skin, breathing you in. “It’s my own original piece. It’s called ‘First Love’ and I wrote it about my piano back in my mother’s house.”

In your time together, Yoongi’s never mentioned his family or much of his childhood really, though you never thought to ask about them either.

“Music will forever be my first love,” he hums, dark eyes turning glassy as he recalls the memories. “I remembered slaving so hard over the keys that by the time I managed to master my first classical piece without making any mistakes, it drove me to tears,” Yoongi chuckles. “Ever since then, I practiced like a mad man, every single day after school. Just to play one piece after the next. My mother was mad; not because I was making too much noise, but because my studies suffered a lot.”

Your silence allows him to continue, but not before he peeks at you to make sure you haven’t fallen asleep. When your eyes meet his, the two of you smile, but his is much wider, a perfect showcase displaying his pearly teeth. He rolls over so your head lies on his chest, and his hand moves to trace shapes on your shoulder instead.

“My mother threatened to take the piano away, so I ended up working extra hard, on both music and my grades, but somehow it still wasn’t enough. There’s a time when she came into my room and ripped a bunch of the music sheets that I’ve painstakingly collected,” he sighs sadly, casting a faraway look towards the ceiling.

Your heart bleeds as he recites some of the words to the song. The lyrics personifies music as though it truly was his first love, but one line leaves your heart aching and shattered: Without you, I’m nothing.

It’s the decisive and almost unhealthy, nature of the words that cuts you deep. You’re not sure if it’s intentional, but it sounded like he’s shackled to his muse; needing it solely to live.

However, Yoongi isn’t seeking validation, nor is he looking for you to disagree, so you keep your mouth shut as he continues to talk about his life – about having to work two to three jobs while going through college and once he graduated, unable to find a suitable job in his field that lead him to work with Helion today.

“And that’s when I met you,” he chuckles as he tightens his embrace. “Something about you reminds me of the day I learned Chopin for the first time.”

“Why? Because I make you want to be a better person?” you tease, poking him lightly on the cheek.

Yoongi looks down at you with a cocky smirk. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out.”

---

When you wake up the next day, the sun is peeking into the otherwise dark room through the crack in the blackout curtains. The bed next to you is empty, though the lingering warmth from its previous occupant tells you that he left not too long ago. Sure enough, you find a note on the nightstand tucked under the glass of water.

Gone out for bagels. Text me your order.

You’re smiling as you down the glass, reading the swoops of letters repeatedly before reaching for your phone.

You: just a plain bagel with cream cheese. Strong coffee. Please and thank you. Yoongi: yep.

Yep.

That one simple text turns you into a giggling mess as you shove the screen close to your face.

Setting your phone aside, your thoughts are too deeply intertwined with yesterday’s events that you can’t help the burning desire that flows through you once more. You’re satisfied; of course, you are, but the thought of spending another day with him, without having to worry about work for another day, especially with the launch being so soon, has you melting into his sheets.

Your breathing hitches as you close your eyes and lay back on the bed, caressing your own skin like Yoongi did the night before. Your fingers pale in comparison to his, yet you let the memories guide you as you tremble with every drag of touch against your clit.

“Yoongi—” you mumble into the quiet morning air.

You press your face closer to his side of the bed and the familiar scent of his cologne has you careen closer to the edge. The whine you let out is nothing short of pathetic as you rut desperately into your hand while your mind conjures up an image of Yoongi leaning against the doorway, bagels abandoned in the kitchen while he studies your actions with amusement.

“Jesus, wetting the bed so early in the morning?” He’d tut, arms crossed in front of his chest. “Guess you can’t get enough of my cock, huh?”

“N-No… need you,” you whisper, hips raised from the bed as your fingers work quicker – wetness dripping down the inside of your thighs to make their mark on the sheets below. “Fuck—need you so badly.”

You press your head into the pillow while you crowd your pussy with another finger. It isn’t enough – nothing compares to the sheer girth of his cock and how effectively it stretches you out to make a mess out of you.

Three.

It requires three of your fingers for you to feel full as you replace your hand with the veiny arms belonging to Yoongi in your mind. You imagine him leaning over you with his signature, ever-present smirk on his face as you writhe under his touch. He’d provoke you to be louder, punctuating his words with every drag of his fingers against the patch of nerves in your cunt so that everyone could hear who this pussy belongs to.

It’s sudden – how the forest fire eclipses your whole body that snaps the coil in half. All because your filthy mind conjures up a final image of Yoongi commanding you to let go.

“Shitshitshit—Fuck! Yoongi!” You cum with an embarrassingly broken whine of his name, your fingers plunging deep into your pulsing hole that causes your arousal to squirt on the bed below.

You crash back to the reality of the bed with ragged breaths. The room spins slightly when you open your eyes and you have to blink several times to get the squiggly lines to float away from your vision.

When your breath evens out, you survey the room you’ve neglected in the heat of the moment. You didn’t get a chance to see very much of it last night and with your brain so occupied this morning, this was the perfect time to snoop into your coworker’s life.

Like the vague recollections of his living room, his bedroom is mostly devoid of furniture aside from the bed and the large floor to ceiling bookshelf on the further end of the wall. With nothing else to do, you hop from the bed to take a look at the books, smiling to yourself as you survey the rare photographs in each shelf of a younger Min Yoongi.

As your fingers trail the large tomes of stories, dictionaries, and magazines, you stop when you notice a gap between the end of the shelf and a copy of Don Quixote. Curious, your finger reaches into the gap to produce a small, yellow notebook the size of your palm. The title on the front is illegible, scrawled on by a small child, so you decide to delve through the pages to see what lurks behind.

You chuckle into the book as you read through entries dating as far back as the early 2000s. It’s a collection of poems – written by the one and only Min Yoongi. The earlier pages contain stories of playing outside and ice cream along with brief glimpses of his intelligence as he laments about the fleeting nature of summer.

You’re pleasantly surprised to find that he’s continued the tradition as you study the entries, his once messy handwriting morphing into the swoop of cursive you’re familiar with. It’s interesting to see his life in small glimpses: his teenage self agonizes over his future while the Yoongi in his early twenties begin to explore topics of dreams and goals.

You read each sentence carefully in an attempt to retain all the emotions he’s spilled on the page. Who knew that Yoongi has such an artistic mind?

When you reach the more recent entries, you hesitate, wondering if it’s all right for you to read through them. Unfortunately, your curiosity outweighs the small voice of conscience, so you pressed on.

The thought of Yoongi hunched over his bed scribbling into the tiny notebook makes you smile. You imagine the way his shoulders would curve inwardly while he balances the pages on his lap and that devilish tongue of his would wet his lips occasionally as he thinks.

You suppress a groan as your treacherous mind recalls what that tongue did to you the night before.

Shaking the dirty thoughts away, you return your attention to the last entry on the page. Unlike its predecessors, this one is short, containing only a title and a single line. However, the title itself is confusing - a seemingly random mix of consonants and vowels forming a word you know for sure does not exist in the English language. You figure it’s some sort of code, but your sluggish mind refuses to piece together the anagram, still dipped in sleep and the aftereffects of your orgasm. You grab your phone with a sigh, employing trusty, old Google to do its job. When you input the title into the search bar, for once, autocorrect comes to your rescue… but at what cost?

“What?”

Disbelief exists in the knot of your eyebrows until you reread the page in its entirety. Realization kicks in slowly, but when it does, you gasp, throwing the notebook and the device away to the floor as if they burned you.

Because the anagram spells out your full name. This entry was written for you.

And the disquiet in your stomach is due to the emotion so easily evoked by a single line, one that you’re all too familiar with:

Without you, I’m nothing.

---

“I’m back. I got a bunch of bagels because I wasn’t sure which one you liked,” Yoongi calls out as he enters the apartment.

The silence that greets him makes him smile as he assumes that you’re still tired after last night, but when Yoongi walks into the bedroom, your name dies on his lips as he looks on in horror: at the yellow notebook – his yellow notebook – lying face down in front of your feet. Your shell-shocked expression tells him all he needs to know. You’ve read the latest entry.

This all feels like déjà vu; just like the first time he caught you weeping in the copy room. His own bedroom feels foreign to him as he takes a hesitant step inside. Yoongi wants nothing more than to laugh it off as a joke, but he knows you won’t buy the lie.

“Yoongi?”

His attention snaps from the swirling patterns on the carpet to your face. Instead of fear, you seem curious, could he take it as a good sign?

“How much did you read?”

The voice that comes out of his mouth sounds foreign even to his own ears.

Your eyes drift lower then, to the notebook on the floor. “All of it,” you admit in a quiet voice. “I read all of it.”

The room fills with a blanket of tension. With a heavy sigh, you stand and brush past him, heading to the living room.

Yoongi’s eyes trail after you as you sit on the cushions of his couch. With an indescribable smile, you look straight into his eyes.

“Let’s talk.”

---

Despite your invitation, it’s you that sits mum on the couch next to him, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I saw it, you know.” Yoongi begins with a humourless smile. “The discomfort you felt was written all over your face when I recited that one line.”

You wait for a bit, holding a space for him to talk should he feel the need to elaborate. “You know, I feel like I do the talking in our relationship, but I’m going to need you to listen to me again, okay?” you say as you mirror his solemn grin. After taking a shuddering breath, you explain, “I don’t want to be the sole reason you live, because without me, you should still be something. I mean, you’re so… you,” you gesture at his figure. “Funny, and kind, and sincere. Someone I can trust and even lean on after all these years.”

His face doesn’t betray his thoughts as he refuses to meet your eyes.

“Yoongi,” you reach out to envelope both his hands into your own. “I love you.”

You can tell he hadn’t expected the confession, but his surprise quickly disappears as he laughs bitterly.

“Why do I feel like there’s a ‘but’ in this confession?” Yoongi asks sarcastically and his lips twitch into a faint hint of a smile.

“But… I don’t want to be in a relationship where I feel like you’re not being true to yourself,” you advice as you squeeze his hands with your own. “That doesn’t mean that I don’t want to be with you, but I just need you to know that you are your own person first.”

Yoongi nods as he digests your words. When he finally returns his gaze to you, he seems more relaxed, a genuine smile on his face. “Thank you,” he murmurs as he squeezes your hands in return. “I think I really needed to hear that.”

“So… what happens now?” you ask meekly, despite being the cause of this whole mess.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips before he speaks, and when he does, there’s a quiet surge of confidence that you hadn’t heard from him before. “I want to be with you,” Yoongi admits. “But I think I’d also like to take things slow.”

“We can do that,” you grin.

And the following week, it’s you that leaves a tangerine on his desk; a signaling promise for tomorrow.

moon’s notes: ah! don’t we love a semi-ambiguous ending? i didn’t have the heart to end it sadly, so i hope it still makes sense!! thank you so much for reading through this lovely little piece. i appreciate all your love!

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