#goldenclosetnetwork

[lunar-jimin]

life goes on, it gets so heavy; the wheel breaks the butterfly

Pairing: Jungkook x fem!reading

Rating: 18+

Genre: smut, angst, fluffy ending, ceo!jungkook, secretary!reader

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: cheating, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, using pulling out as a protective method (don’t do this kids), dom!jungkook, sub!reader, cumming in pants, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, daddy kink, degradation, lovey-dovey sex, impreg kink

Summary: Despite being the golden heir of a wealthy empire, Jungkook is incredibly unhappy with life he’s been handed. When you show up in his office one morning, you change his life in the way he least expected, but in the way he needed the most. 

a/n: This is an anonymous commission for my BLM fundraiser!! If you would like to request something yourself, you can find the link to my official post here! I would also like to thank the lovely @nightowls388​ for beta reading!!

| masterlist | moodboard | playlist |

The air was too hot. Uncomfortable. Sticky. Jungkook loosened the tie around his neck in a desperate attempt to free himself from the confines of his suit. He hated August. It was always too warm, too sunny. He preferred the dark winter days where the snow silenced the universal white noise. Black suits weren’t as suffocating on forty degree days.

He glanced out the window of the Rolls Royce, taking in the pedestrians struggling not to melt in the intense gaze of the sun. He sympathized with their struggle. Even the blast of freezing draft from the air conditioner did little to spare him from the heat. He enjoyed watching people. He was fascinated by the little idiosyncrasies that formed them into unique individuals, each essential to making the world work. Besides, everyone’s life seemed more interesting to him than his own.

There was a point in his life when he was content with the plan his parents had laid out for him before he was in diapers. He looked forward to one day taking over his father’s company, marrying a nice girl, and starting a family. It was a simple plan and one that gained the approval of the adults in his life: something he was constantly vying for as an adolescent. It was what he was raised with. When he went to college, everything changed. For the first time in his existence, he wasn’t being inundated with his parent’s doctrine and found that there was more to life than running Fortune 500 companies. His parents were less than pleased to discover that he had accompanied his business major with a minor in photography. 

But despite the longing that had bloomed in him for something more intriguing than sterile offices and mundane board meetings, he still found himself back home where his parents once again instilled in him the desire to be the golden heir. A year after his return as the prodigal son, his parents set him with the woman who was now his wife. Three years after that, his father decided that he would rather spend his days on the golfing green rather than in sky-high conference rooms, so he handed off the company to Jungkook. Ever since Jungkook had been locked inside stuffy black suits and boring ties. And he absolutely hated it. 

He squirmed in his seat, his desire to escape increasing with each second he was locked in the back of the car. God, why was it so hot? He felt like crying- a feeling that had become increasingly common during the past six months. His brain felt like a bubbling volcano waiting patiently to explode. Sometimes, Jungkook imagined what would happen when it did. He would divorce his wife, leave his job, and move to some island in the Caribbean where he would spend the rest of his days taking pictures. It was a nice dream, but it was only that, a dream. 

He shook his head, trying to contain his runaway emotions. As the car came to a halt in front of the office building, Jungkook tightened his tie and grabbed his briefcase before exiting out into the scalding heat. If inside the car was bad, outside was absolute hell. It was so hot, Jungkook swore he was on fire. He frowned, rushing into the safety of the air-conditioned skyscraper in front of him before he broke out in a sweat. 

He sighed in relief the second he made it through the rotating doors. He had never been so grateful for the large air conditioning bill in all his life. His relief was so immense that it took a full minute to realize something was wrong. Normally, the second he walked through the door, his secretary greeted him with an iced coffee and a pastry, but as he looked around, his secretary was nowhere to be found. Yet another sigh escaped his mouth as he stepped into the elevator. Why of all days did today have to be the day his secretary magically disappeared? He shook his head. 

He noticed her the minute he arrived at his office floor. She was bent over a box, all her attention focused on searching for whatever object was eluding her. It took her a moment to notice his presence, but when she did, she bolted upright before scurrying in front of the desk, hands behind her back. Jungkook looked her up and down, transfixed by the beautiful stranger.

“Can I help you?”

His voice came out harsher than he meant it to and he cringed when you tried to disguise a wince. 

“Um, yes, I’m your new secretary, Mr. Jeon.”

His brows furrowed. 

“New secretary? What happened to the old one? He was perfectly fine.”

He didn’t remember any emails about his secretary leaving, although to be fair, he hadn’t been paying attention to much these days. He might physically be at work, but more often than not, his mind had drifted to far off places. Mostly island paradises. 

“He moved away.”

“Ah,” he gave you a once over, “and what is your name, new secretary?”

You answered him. He nodded as if you had given him the right answer on a quiz.

“And I don’t suppose anyone has told you how things work around here.”

“No sir.”

His hands clenched at the name, a picture of you on your knees before him (with much less clothing) popped into his head. He shook it off, trying to stay the least bit professional. He had a wife for god’s sake. 

“I see. Well, for future reference, I expect you to meet me each day in the lobby with an iced americano and a pastry,” he paused when he realized how demanding he sounded before softly adding, “No cherries though, I hate cherries.”

You nodded, grabbing a sticky note and jotting down his instructions.

“For now, just get settled in. Do you happen to know if I have any meetings today?”

You nodded again, “You have a lunch meeting with the Samsung marketing director at one, sir.”

There it was again. That damn formality. It was really going to get the better of him. 

“You will accompany me. I expect you to take notes, but don’t contribute to the conversation. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

Jungkook nodded before making a beeline to his office before he got a boner. He let out a sigh of relief as he closed the door behind him. His heart pounded in his chest and despite his desperate attempts, he’s chubbed up a bit in his pants. 

He didn’t want to admit that it’s because you might be the most attractive woman he has ever seen. He didn’t want to admit that he hasn’t been this turned on in months. Instead, he passed it off on the fact that he hadn’t had sex with his wife in three months which left behind quite a bit of built-up tension. 

The hours ticked by and Jungkook attempted to bury himself with the neverending stack of paperwork. He remembered there was a time when he loved to show off his signature (there was a reason fifteen-year-old him never had a girlfriend), but now he wanted to chop off his hands so that he could never sign a contract again. He was thankful when the clock struck eleven, releasing him from his office, even if it meant being stuck talking shop for an hour while eating expensive but flavorless food. 

He stepped out to find you arranging photos on the wall beside your desk. You glanced up when you heard the door open and flashed him a blinding smile. 

“Ready, sir?”

He nodded. The title was really going to be a problem. 

The meeting was the beginning of Jungkook’s personal purgatory. Every day you would greet him with a smile and the best pastries he had ever tasted. (He was surprised when you admitted to him that you had baked them yourself. If you weren't proving to be an amazing secretary, he would suggest that you open a bakery, but he’s selfish.) You were a good listener and caught onto his routines without a struggle. But every day you would show up dressed as pure temptation. It wasn’t even that your outfits were scandalous, just simple pencil skirts and pastel blouses, but you made them look like sin incarnate. It didn’t help that every night he went home to his wife who he barely noticed existed anymore.

There had been a point when he and his wife were, er, passionate. For the first couple of years, Jungkook even managed to convince himself that he was in love with her. But a couple of months ago, weekly dinners turned into once a month before they disappeared altogether. To make the situation worse, his mother was starting to complain about her lack of children, but he didn’t know how to break it to her that he couldn’t remember the last time he had kissed his wife, much less had sex with her. There were no bitter feelings or resentment, just indifference. He had briefly considered couples therapy before deciding against it. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to attempt to salvage the crumbs of his marriage. 

You had only added fuel to the fire. Jungkook found himself just as infatuated with your mind as he was with your body. Not only did you laugh at his dumb jokes and listen to his whining, but you had witty contributions and easily found out-of-the-box solutions. He swore this quarter’s numbers would be higher just from you alone. And you flirted. He wasn’t sure at first, incredibly hesitant to respond in fear of a scandalous HR report. But when he caught your gaze on him when you thought he wasn’t looking one too many times, he realized there was a good chance that you liked him just as much as he liked you. 

Between you, his wife, and his desperate need to escape this world of offices, limos, and quid pro quo, his life was unraveling right in front of him. Still, he tried to hold onto all the pieces before they landed in a disappointed heap in his lap. He wasn’t quite ready to let it all go to shit. He definitely was not ready to meet his parents’ disapproving faces when he lost everything they had worked so hard to ensure he had. 

Two months after you began working, he found himself at an overcrowded party praying he was anywhere but there. Sadly, being a CEO meant that he wasn’t allowed to drink away his woes, lest he make a fool of himself in front of all the investors. Instead, he was forced to stay exhaustingly sober as he watched everyone around him devolve into debauchery. He found his wife pleasantly drunk near the bar talking to one of her friends whose face he recognized but couldn’t remember her name for the life of him.

“Having fun darling?”

He grinned, trying to play the role of loving husband. A role that had become increasingly difficult to mimic. 

“It’s your birthday party, I should be asking you. Have you even had a drink? Probably not,” she turned back to her friend, “He never drinks at these things, something about keeping up appearances. I think it’s dumb. It’s his own birthday for fuck’s sake.”

He rolled his eyes. There she went again, putting him down. It wasn’t the first time she had commented on his festive sobriety. She wasn’t a fan. Maybe it was because he only fucked her after he drank. Still, he conceded to her teasing, figuring one drink wouldn’t hurt. He waved down a bartender.

“A whiskey on the rocks, please,” he turned back to his wife, “satisfied?”

She grinned at him before resuming ignoring him in favor of whatever fascinating conversation her friend was providing. He sighed before grabbing his drink and making his way out to the balcony. The air inside the penthouse was stuffy and he was beginning to feel claustrophobic. He was surprised to find you already out there, nursing your own drink in your hand. It wasn't unusual for people from the office to be at his personal parties. His father had taught him a long time ago that inviting your employees into your personal life was key to inspiring loyalty. It made them feel like they knew you and that they were important to you. But seeing as you were a relatively new addition, he had never seen you outside of the office and if you were sexy in skirts and blouses, the dress you had on should be illegal. He gulped before leaning next to you on the rail.

"Parties not your thing?"

You jumped, spilling a bit of your drink onto the dark street below. 

"Um, no, parties are fine. Rich people parties are just a whole new animal."

He chuckled.

"That's fair I suppose. Even I get sick of those fuckers. They do realize that they aren’t at the office anymore right? No need to brag about how well your stock is doing"

You smiled at him before looking back out at the city skyline. Despite having grown up with views like this, Jungkook still found it breathtaking. Almost as breathtaking as he found you. He took a sip of his drink, trying to drown his thoughts in alcohol. When he looked at you again, he felt his stomach churn. You were so beautiful that he wasn't sure what to do with himself. A sigh escaped him. You broke out of your trance and turned to look at him.

"Something wrong?"

"No. Not really."

You raised your eyebrow.

"I just- I know this sounds stupid and pretentious- but I really just don't want to do this anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"This job. This lifestyle. This life. I was raised to be the perfect CEO with the perfect family, a copy of my father really, but that's not what I want. All my family has ever seen me as is the golden heir and honestly, I don’t know if I can be that anymore."

"Who do you want to be?"

"I don't know. A photographer I guess. And marry somebody I actually choose to fall in love with. And live away from the stress of trying to please every person in my life at the cost of my own happiness."

"You don't love your wife?"

"No, I do. Kinda. I just... My parents picked her out and at some point, I was smitten with her, but we're so different and she wants success and money and, well, I don't care about that as much. She’s not a bad person, she’s just obsessed with her books and her writing, and well, that doesn’t leave much room for family. I’m not much better though."

"Oh."

"And we haven't been too hot lately."

"How so?"

"Um, well, we're really distant, and, um, we haven't had sex in two months."

You snorted and he blanched. He usually never shared that kind of thing with anyone and here he was confessing his personal problems to you, his secretary. The alcohol must be affecting him more than he thought. This is why he didn't drink at parties.

"How? Has she seen you? I would be all over you if I was your wife.”

You realized what you had said a moment too late and you looked at him with wide eyes, a faint blush covering your face. He let out a nervous chuckle. 

“Would you now?”

You nodded before downing the rest of your drink. Jungkook felt something akin to butterflies begin to flutter in his stomach. He had known that he was fairly attractive, but something about hearing someone as ethereal as you admit it made his heart do flips. 

“Yeah, well, it’s really on me I guess. I haven’t really wanted to.”

“You don’t want to have sex?”

Relief washed over your face when you realized that he wasn’t going to linger on your slip up. 

“Yeah. Well no. I do want to have sex. Just not with her.”

“I see. Well, who do you want to have sex with?”

It was a small glimpse, almost imperceptible, but he saw the recognition in your face as you watched his eyes glance over you.

“Me?”

Jungkook gulped. What was he doing? What was he getting himself into? He had a life to protect. Expectations to uphold. And yet, here he was, considering risking it all for a secretary who was making him feel something for the first time in months. 

When he gathered enough courage to look at you, he found you staring at his lips. One second he’s waging a war with himself and the next your mouth is on his. Your lips are just as warm and soft as he thought they would be and for a moment he lets himself be absorbed by them. But reality rapidly floods back, and he pushes you away. You looked at him, obviously hurt by the rejection. 

“I’m sorry.”

He’s being honest. He doesn’t want to hurt you. But he was a coward who was afraid of what people thought of him. And the things people would think about him if they knew he kissed his secretary were not pretty.

“It’s fine.”

You failed to cover up the disappointment in your voice. 

“It’s not you. It’s just I have a wife, and a family with expectations and-”

He sighs.

“Look, it’s fine. Really. I’m just gonna get going, okay? I’ll see you on Monday.”

With that, you leave him to his own devices. He watches your figure go, before turning back to face the city. 

“Fuck.”

If work was hell before, it was nothing compared to what it was now. Every day, he found himself torn between wanting to take you on his desk and wanting to never see you again. Ever since the party, the memory of your lips pressed on his had haunted him like an orphaned Victorian ghost with a thirst for revenge.  It was on replay in his mind to the point he couldn’t properly sleep anymore. He felt like shit, and he was pretty sure he looked it too, but if anyone noticed they neglected to say anything. 

You, on the other hand, seemed to be doing just fine. You hadn’t so much as mentioned the party. You performed your duties with your usual pep and continued to bring him your heavenly pastries. He resented you a little bit for being able to move on so easily. Here he was hung up on a moment he had fucked up, and there you were acting like nothing had happened. He wanted to scream. 

So he pulled back. He only talked to you if it was absolutely necessary. He never looked your way. He threw himself into his job. But you were still there, just as tempting as the first day he had seen you. His mind was being forced to choose between you alongside the island paradise he dreamed of, and keeping up appearances while pleasing his elders. A week passed and he was miserable. He was exhausted and all his will power had been depleted. 

That’s why he ended up doing what he did. Or at least that’s what he told himself. Friday rolled around and Jungkook was at his wit’s end. And then there you were, fifteen feet away from him flirting with some random guy from IT. (Namjoon, maybe?) It was harmless, but it didn’t stop Jungkook’s gut from twisting about inside of him. Why didn’t you flirt with him? Why didn’t you show him any signs of affection? He reminds himself that he rejected you, but it’s no help. Jealousy overwhelms him as he squirms in his leather chair. He barely noticed his hands clamped into fists or the way his jaw had clenched to the point of pain. When Namjoon leans over to whisper into your ear, Jungkook loses the small tidbits of control he had left. 

He pushes himself out of his chair and storms out, not bothering to say anything as he grabs your arm and pulls you away from a stunned Namjoon and back to his office, slamming the door behind him. 

“Can I help you?”

Your tone is curt and your face was twitching with displeasure. Jungkook realized that once he had you, he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to do with you. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He would certainly like to bend you over his desk and fuck you until you couldn’t walk, but he was fairly certain that wouldn’t go over well with you right now. 

“Umm…” 

He felt a blush cross his face as he realized he was still holding onto your wrist. He released it before turning to pace back and forth across the marble floor. 

“Well?”

You folded your arms across your chest, your eyes were alight with something dangerous. Something that Jungkook found incredibly sexy. Before his brain could register with what he was doing, he found himself marching over to you, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you in for a kiss. 

You stiffened against him, but before you had a chance to respond, he had pulled away from you. The guilt was almost immediate, drowning him in regret and confusion. You too looked confused, as you stood stock still, surprise plastered all over your face. Jungkook turned and walked back to his chair. 

“You can go.”

You seemed to barely register the words as you nodded before absent-mindedly wandering out of his office. Jungkook relaxed in his seat as he tried to make sense of what had happened. He knew he had feelings for you, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Nothing he couldn’t control. But he had lost control and now he wasn’t able to trust himself. And he didn’t know if he wanted to.

After that, things went back to normal. Well, as normal as they could be. He gathered the courage to interact with you again. But now instead of friendly glances and gestures, there were secret looks and subtle touches. Jungkook knew he was a wind-up toy one twist away from snapping, but he couldn’t help but indulge in your flirty gestures. 

He found himself growing bolder as the consequences he had once worried about seemed to be a world away. What started with the brush of a hand across the hip, grew to a hand on your thigh in the back of the car. Dark stares and lip bites plagued his day. At night, he would go home and lock himself in his private office where he would wrap his hand around his cock while conjuring up images of you in a variety of wanton states, all for him. 

He should’ve known that staying at work late with you would be a bad idea. Usually, you had the rest of the employees to keep you in check. With them gone, he found himself finding little reason to hold himself back.

“And so that’s why I think it’s a good idea to start engaging with younger consumers.”

You had been discussing ways to boost sales for the quarter, but he had stopped listening long ago, instead focusing on how your shirt was opened a button lower than usual.

“Mr. Jeon?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you listening?”

“What? Oh, yeah. Of course. Younger consumers. Got it.”

You raised an eyebrow. 

“What?”

“Maybe if you spent less time staring at my chest and more time focusing on these market studies, we would already have higher sales.”

“Sorry.”

“Sure you are.”

“You’re right. I’m not.”

The drop of his voice surprised even him. You looked at him with an unreadable look from your perch on the edge of his desk.

“And what is so enticing about my chest?”

Jungkook gulped. Your eyes had darkened and he felt himself start to stir in his pants. 

“It’s a part of you. And you are so sexy I can barely control myself.”

You smirked, before sauntering over to him and lowering yourself into his lap. The scent of your perfume overwhelmed him as you leaned in to whisper in his ear. 

“Then don’t.”

Somewhere inside him, a cord snapped. The control he had been trying to reign in had broken free and he was left to his own primal devices. He pulled your lips to his, finally relishing in getting to properly kiss you. You responded instantly, lips moving against his as your hands buried themselves in his hair. You tugged on the strands and Jungkook moaned into your mouth, hips bucking up into you as his hand grabbed your ass. You returned his moans and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. 

His brain was a mess of emotions and hormones. He was overwhelmingly hard in his pants and your lips felt too good against his. You rolled your hips on top of him and he let a growl, the need to take you battling with his need to preserve the few remaining shreds of his dignity. 

He didn’t have the chance to make a decision though when the office door swung open and the head of a very confused janitor popped in. 

“Uh…I thought you were gone,” he stuttered, “...I’ll just leave.”

The janitor blushed before shutting the door. Jungkook turned back to look at you to find a similar rosy hue had graced your cheeks. 

“Um...I should probably get going too.”

Your voice was meek and the embarrassment of getting caught was plastered all over your face. He can’t blame you though, he isn’t doing too well himself. The fear of getting caught had left him deflated in more ways than one. 

“Yeah, sure, that’s probably good.”

You moved off his lap, readjusting your skirt as you do so. You grab your purse and jacket before walking to the door. Just as you were about to open it, you turn back to look at him. 

“Good night, Jungkook.”

He looked up surprised. It was the first time you had called him by his first name. It sounded heavenly coming from your lips. 

“Goodnight.”

Before he left for the night, he made sure to track down the janitor and offer him a healthy sum of money to stay quiet. He took it happily and continued on his way.

The weekend passed slowly for Jungkook. You plagued his thoughts with images of your rumpled skirt and the feeling of your hands in his hair. His wife was out of town for yet another business trip. He didn’t care. It just gave him more time with the thought of you while his hand was around his cock.

When Monday finally rolled around, Jungkook found himself the happiest he’d ever been to go to work. As he walked into the lobby, the sight of you washed over him like the cold water of a lake on the hottest day of summer. Something about your smile seemed to relieve him of all the heavy stress he was carrying on his shoulders. 

He almost made it through the day without losing control of himself. Despite all the glances he gave you, or the way you brushed your hand against his while you leaned over next to him to explain a chart, he managed to keep it together. But when you bent over in front of his desk to pick up a pen he dropped, he lost all control. The next thing he knew, he was slamming you against his office door, lips attacking yours, while his hips rutted into you. 

Your initial shock wore off almost instantly and you groaned as you melted into him. You wrapped a leg around his waist, dragging him closer to your core. The kiss was messy and he was sure your lipstick was ruined. A fervent need overwhelmed him as he humped you like a desperate teenager. You pulled away to catch your breath, dark eyes looking staring back at his own. 

“Fuck, you turn me on so much, baby,” he growled into your ear, hips moving faster. 

Words seemed to fail you as you whined back at him, pleasure contorting in your face. You suddenly let go of him, before dropping down to your knees. Instead of going to undo his pants like he expected, you simply gave a long lick over his bulge. Jungkook’s legs immediately turned to jello and he had to brace himself on the door to keep himself upright. 

“Oh fuck, what are you doing baby?”

“I’m getting you off. Do you want me to make you feel good sir?”

For once he was happy to hear the name. He didn’t get a chance to respond before you grabbed him through his pants. He threw his head back with a moan. It briefly occurred to him that people might hear through the thin walls, but your hand on his hard cock soon relieved him of all thought. It didn’t take much to get him to the point of no return. Even with all the nights spent with his fist and a bottle of lube he still felt like a rubber band getting stretched to its limit. You were barely touching him, but there he was, on the precipice of cumming in his own damn pants. He barely had time to warn you before spurts of hot cum filled his boxer briefs with white. “Oh, fuck.”

You giggled as he let out soft groans, cock twitching in its confines. The high of pleasure was quickly wiped away as the sensation of sticky underwear rose to his attention. 

“You’re a bad, bad girl, baby. You made me cum in my pants. Do you know what happens to bad girls?”

“No, sir.” 

“They get punished.”

“And how are you going to punish me, sir?”

Jungkook had to stifle a groan. You were still on your knees in front of him, calling him ‘sir’. Despite having just had one of the better orgasms in his life, his dick twitched with interest. 

“Stand up.”

You quickly obey, rising to your full height, but keeping eye contact the entire time. 

“Take off your panties.”

Your eyes grew wide at his demand, but you obeyed him nonetheless. The second you grasped the pink lace in your hand, he snatched them from you, immediately bringing them up his nose. He inhaled, letting himself get lost in the musky aroma.

“Shit, baby, you smell so good. I can’t wait to eat your wet pussy. But not today. You were bad today and only good girls get their pussy eaten.”

You let out a whimper but kept your mouth shut, body frozen in place. He stuffed your panties into his pant pocket before walking over to his desk and taking a seat. 

“You may go.”

You looked like you wanted to say something, probably about your lack of undergarments, but you held your tongue and turned to leave. 

“Oh, and one last thing.”

You turned back to him.

“I’m going to need a new suit. It seems I’ve spilled some coffee on this one.”

He smirked and you nodded, before stepping out the door. 

He didn’t try to hold himself back after that. He would take you whenever the opportunity arose. It didn’t take long for him to fulfill his promise to eat you out. He would forever remember the way you whined his name while his mouth pulled not one, but two orgasms from your dripping pussy. And when he finally got to feel your mouth around his cock, he was fairly sure he had found nirvana. 

He wouldn’t fuck you though. He knew it was silly as if he would be betraying his wife any more than he already was by having sex with you, but for some reason, he felt the need to draw a line. To separate the boundary between the fantasy land he had created with you and the cold reality that he returned home to. His wife had become all but a ghost in his life, and as a result, Jungkook found you providing his only emotional support in addition to sexual release. He didn’t want to admit that somehow, in a few short months, you had grown from being just his secretary to his closest companion. 

He didn’t want to admit it because he was too afraid of where it would lead. He was already teetering on the edge to give it all up, even before you had shown up in his office looking like a gift from heaven, but now, now he was fairly certain that even the tiniest breeze would push him over. And he didn’t know if you would be there to catch him if he fell. 

But that didn’t stop him from starting to dream of a future with you. The island paradise in his mind expanded to include you. Flashes of laughing children, nights under the stars, and soft kisses danced through his mind. You would have your own bakery, he would take pictures, and together you would create your own little family. One that was far removed from the hassle and the stress of his painful existence.  

Jungkook was over the moon to discover that you would be accompanying him on a work trip to Japan. For one whole week, you would be one door away. Even if it was a ruse, Jungkook would be allowed to pretend, for one whole week, that you were his and he was yours alone. On the plane ride alone, he made you cum three times in the cramped bathroom. During the day, you would both try to hold it together. Merger meetings were laced with subtle glances and hidden touches. At night, you would become a whole other animal. 

You tested his limits. Dared him to give in and finally give you what you both wanted: him inside you. Every night you would knock on his door in translucent nighties that highlighted the fact you had discarded your bra. After the second night of showing up in see-through clothes, Jungkook decided to return the favor, opening the door with his shirt unbuttoned, leaving his abs out for anyone to see. While you were both visibly affected by each other’s teasing, neither of you gave in until the last moment, each of you leaping into each other's arms and making a mess of the hotel furniture. But he still didn’t fuck you. It was his line. His final frontier. 

On the last night of the trip, Jungkook suggested that they finally test out the jacuzzi on his balcony. Bad idea. When you showed up in a tiny red bikini that did little to protect your dignity, Jungkook felt himself spiraling out of control. Instead of greeting you like he usually did, he thrust a cocktail in your hand while trying to will his dick into submission. He made it through about ten minutes in the hot tub, trying to participate in regular conversation with you. But he couldn’t, not when your tits were sitting right there. He was no longer sure if the sweat dripping down his forehead was from the warm water or the pent up tension. 

“Fuck.”

“What?”

“I can’t take this anymore,” he groaned.

“Can’t take what?”

Your eyes gleamed, daring him to admit to what they both knew he so desperately needed. 

“There is nothing more I want then to sink into your pretty pink pussy right now.” 

“So why don’t you?”

It was the first time you had questioned why he refused to have sex with you, and now that you were finally confronting him about it, he found himself at a loss for a reasonable explanation. The line that he thought he was creating by refusing to have sex with you had long ago been blurred to the point of no longer existing. And here you were, with your warm body inches from him, wanting him just as much as he wanted to you and he knew that he was done for. 

“Fuck it.”

With that, he pulled you onto his lap, attaching his lips to yours for the three millionth time. He would never tire of your kisses, the way they comforted his soul, and quenched his constant need for your touch. You eagerly responded to him, tongue licking the seam of his lips. As the two of you began to explore each other’s mouths, his hands came up to the string keeping your bikini top together and gave it a quick jerk, letting the scarlet cloth fall from your body. He pulled back and groaned at the sight of your perfect tits, the water around you swishing as he rolled his hips up into yours.

You whined out, “Fuck, baby. Just like that. God, I can’t wait for you to be inside me.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook’s voice was low with lust, “Me neither, baby. You’re gonna be such a good slut for me aren’t you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Even after months of you calling him ‘sir’ in less than professional situations, Jungkook still hadn’t gotten used to it. He felt every inch of his skin tingle with sheer pleasure every time the word fell from your shameless mouth. You whined, teeth pulling at his bottom lip as you pressed down on top of him, just as desperate as he was. He moved from your mouth to your neck, kissing down to your collarbone, where he stopped to take the time to leave a rosy mark that signified you were his and his alone. Once he was satisfied with it, he continued down your chest, taking one of your pretty pink nipples in his mouth, sucking on the hardened bud. You moaned out his name, hips stuttering against his. God, he loved your breasts. 

Your hands tangled themselves in his hair, pulling on them to the point of pain. Jungkook didn’t care though. He loved when you showed him just how good he could make you feel. It made him feral. Sure, receiving pleasure was gratifying, but there was nothing quite like watching you squirm from his ministrations.

He reluctantly pulled away from your tits to pull the ties keeping your bikini bottoms intact before discarding the garment in the same manner as your top, leaving you naked on top of him. He took a moment to pull back and admire how beautiful you looked. You sat there as he looked you over, a blush rising to your cheeks. You crossed your arms over your chest in an attempt to make yourself less vulnerable to him.

“Oh no baby, don’t hide yourself from me,” he gently pulls your arms away, “you’re too beautiful to stay covered up.”

Your blush intensified. He smiled at you, wrapping his large arms around your body and carrying you out of the hot tub. Your lips reconnected with his as he stumbled his way into the hotel room, tossing you on the king-sized bed. 

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?”

His voice was as dark as his eyes. You nodded in response, voice escaping you. 

“That’s my baby.”

He pulled off his wet swim trunks before joining you on the bed, where your wet body had begun to soak the sheets. If he had his way, they would be much wetter by the time the night was over. He wasted no time diving into your pussy, lips attaching to your clit, drawing out your sweet moans. His fingers found your entrance, circling it a few times to collecting your slick, before slipping one in. Your back arched at the sensation and Jungkook let out a chuckled against your clit. 

Your whines grew higher and he could tell that you were getting close to finishing. After months of exploring your body, he was well acquainted with how to play your pussy like an instrument, conducting your symphony of pleasure. He slipped in a second finger, crooking them upwards in search of the spot he knew would make you scream. When you cried out he knew that he had found it and not five seconds later, you were coming all over his digits. 

“Fuck, Kook.”

“I hope you don’t think that we’re done yet,” he growled as his fingers slowed before leaving your sopping cunt, “when I’m through with you, you won’t be able to walk for days. I'll have to carry you to every meeting and explain to them that I fucked you too hard for you to function.”

You clenched around nothing at his words and he mindlessly took his cock in his hands, giving it a few quick strokes. 

“You like that don’t you? You would love for the entire world to know how much of a whore you are for my cock.”

“I would. I’m a whore for your cock, please give it to me. I’ve been a good girl.”

Without bothering to warn you, he lined himself up before sinking into you. You both groaned at  the feeling of your tight cunt stretching around his cock. After months of dreaming of what your pink walls would feel like around him, he could confirm that the sensation was much better than anything his imagination had conjured. 

He started with slow thrusts, trying to give himself time to come off the edge he had already been worked up to. Your legs came to wrap around his waist, pulling him closer to you. As soon as you had adjusted to his girth, you began to roll your hips up to meet his.

“Go faster.”

“Uh uh, if you want Daddy to go faster, you have to beg like a proper slut.”

It just slipped out. Jungkook knew he had a daddy kink, but it generally stayed repressed deep within after his wife had shamed him for it. But you didn’t seem to mind. If anything, you squeezed him even tighter.

“Please Daddy, please go faster. Fuck my tight pussy.”

He conceded to your wishes, pulling all the way out, before thrusting back in. He set a tireless pace, pounding into you so hard the bed began to shake. He leaned down, meeting your lips in a sloppy kiss. Your teeth clacked together, but Jungkook didn’t care. He just wanted to be as close to you as possible. 

He pulled away from your lips and his cock twitched at the visual of the string of saliva connecting your mouths. Without him to silence you, your moans mingling with the sound of skin slapping creating a beautiful symphony for Jungkook’s ears. 

He felt himself approach the edge, honing in on his release. Luckily for him, your pussy was tightening around him, signaling that you were close too. 

“Fuck, are you gonna cum for me, baby? Are you gonna come around Daddy’s cock like a good girl?”

“Yes Daddy, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna-”

Your voice broke off into a high pitched moan as you clenched around him. You threw your head back, hands clawing into his skin. The mix of pain and pleasure sent him over the edge with you. He quickly pulled out before covering your pussy and stomach in white strands. As soon as the waves of ecstasy rescinded, he collapsed on top of you, exhaust claiming his muscles. 

He laid there for a minute before hopping up and heading to the bathroom. When he came back out, warm towel in hand, he found you passed out on the soaked sheets. His heart skipped a beat at your blissed-out face and for a moment he wished he could feel as peaceful as you looked. After making sure you were thoroughly clean, he collapsed on the bed next to you. Sleep was quick to come to him, but not before he took you into his arms, burying his face into the crook of your neck. 

A dam had burst. The two of you went at it like rabbits, he would take you any and every way could, whenever he could. He couldn’t get enough of you. He would take you in the back of the limo, in the elevator, empty conference rooms. It was to the point he was sure the entire company knew of your amorous relations, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. All he thought about was you. Even the fear of disappointing his parents was beginning to diminish. As his feelings for you grew and blossomed, his desire to please anyone else faded into a faint buzz in the background of his mind. You had him whipped. 

He knew things were bad when his five year anniversary with his wife rolled around and he didn’t feel a thing when she told him that she wouldn’t be able to be there due to some book tour. Sure, a little part of him was upset that she didn’t care enough to even try to change the tour dates, but he knew that he didn't have a leg to stand on. In fact, he was rather grateful he wouldn’t have to plan some dinner to celebrate a love that had died long ago.  

When you heard that he was spending his anniversary alone, you had offered him some company. He felt a twinge of guilt about the idea of having sex with a woman that wasn’t his wife on their anniversary, but not enough to stop him from inviting you over. So there you were, in his foyer, with an overnight bag, a bottle of wine, and a smile that could light up the heavens. He grinned back at you, taking the bottle and leading you into the living room. 

“I’ll get us some glasses, yeah?”

“Sure. Do you mind if I change? Work clothes aren’t the most comfortable.”

“Oh, yeah, go ahead. There’s a bathroom down the hall to your left.”

When he returned to the living room with two glasses and a bottle opener, you were curled up on the couch in a tank and shorts. You were flipping through the photography book that he kept on the coffee table. You were so immersed in the pictures that you didn’t notice his presence.

“So whatcha want to do?”

You jumped, startled by the sound of his voice. 

“It’s your anniversary, you should decide.”

He placed the opener and the glasses on the table next to the bottle before taking a seat next to you. 

“I don’t know. How about we just drink and talk for a bit?” he paused, “Maybe that’s stupid.”

“Nope. Nothing about you is stupid.”

There was your damn smile again. Jungkook hated the way his heart pounded faster because of it. He smiled back at you. It only took a few sips of the merlot before Jungkook had begun to relax. He had been drunk around you plenty of times, but there was something about wine that made him want to pour his entire heart out to you. 

He watched as you laughed at your own joke, strands of hair that had fallen loose from your tight ponytail danced on your cheek. The world seemed to slow down a little, time coming to a halt, making the room for him to exist with just you and no one else. It was somewhere in that warm, fuzzy space that the words came tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. 

“I think I love you.”

Even the air in the room stilled. You stared at him, eyes wide with shock.

“What?”

You looked like a deer in headlights. Jungkook felt like one.

“Nothing. I was just running my mouth. Don’t mind me. Go back to telling me about this dream bakery of yours.”

Much to his chagrin, you didn’t budge, eyes still fixed on his rigid body. Your surprise had evaporated and you were now looking him up and down as if you were trying to analyze his inner thoughts. You both sat frozen for what felt like ages before you moved to kneel in front of him, taking his shaky hands in yours. When you opened your mouth, your voice was soft, caressing his soul.

“I love you too.”

The world stopped in its tracks. Jungkook swore his heart stopped beating in his chest. And then your lips were on his and even though he had kissed you more times than he could count, this felt different. This felt like the collision of two planets, the implosion of a star. Fireworks weren’t enough to describe the cascade of emotions pouring through him. His hands grasped your cheeks, gently caressing the soft skin. You hummed against his mouth as he pushed you back to lie on the couch, while your legs spread to make room for him between your thighs. 

Jungkook swore he felt a tear trickle down his cheek, but he couldn’t tell if it was from you or him. He honestly didn’t care. The woman he had grown to love loved him back. He now knew that you would catch him if he fell. And so he let himself tumble over the precipice he had once been so terrified of.  He could finally admit that your embrace was home and that your arms eyes were the safety he never felt. He loved you. You loved him. The stars had aligned. 

He trailed his kisses away from your lips and to the crook of your neck where he inhaled. You smelled of the remnants of your perfume mixed with your own personal scent. He swore if he breathed it in enough, he would get high off it. Instead, he placed soft kisses on the delicate skin, before taking it in between his teeth, shamelessly marking you. The whole world would know that you belonged to him, almost as much as he belonged to you. 

You moaned as he sucked the bruised skin into his mouth before shifting lower so that his face was right between your breasts. Your flimsy tank top did nothing to stop him from tearing it in two. 

“Jesus, Kook,” you groaned as he took in the sight of your braless chest, bare before him. 

“What? I can buy you all the tank tops you want. I would buy you the whole world.”

And it was true. If that’s what it would take to make you happy, that’s what he would do. Tears glinted in your eyes at his words before Jungkook ripped a moan out of your mouth when he took a nipple in his. He sucked on it before releasing it with a pop. 

“These are the best tits in the world. I love them almost as much as I love you.”

He dove back in taking the neglected breast in his hand, rubbing the nipple. Your hips bucked up into him, desperate for more concrete pleasure than the little he was teasing you with. 

“Slow, baby, I’ll get there. Slow.”

You whined in response, head thrown back against the arm of the couch while Jungkook swirled his tongue over you. Even though he was unbelievably hard in his sweats, he found no motivation to do anything about it, his sole focus on you and your pleasure. 

He moved to kiss down your stomach. When he reached the hem of your shorts, he pulled them off, before moving to kiss over your lace panties. An obvious wet patch marked the center and Jungkook once again took the time to stop and smell you. The aroma overwhelmed him, driving him mad with carnal lust. 

“Fuck baby, your dripping, and I’ve barely touched you yet.” 

“That’s ‘cause you’re taking forever. Please baby, I need you.”

And how could he deny you when you were so sweet and all fucked out, just for him. He pulled your soaked panties to the side, groaning at your soaked, pink lips. He dove in, licking one long striped from the bottom of your cunt up to your clit. You bucked against him desperate for more. 

In response, he wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding you in place. His tongue found your clit, eliciting angelic moans from you while he drew abstract shapes on your bundle of nerves. Your thighs began to quiver in his grip and he smiled against you. The thought of you coming from just his mouth had his dick twitching in excitement. 

“Fuck, Kookie, I’m gonna cum.”

“That’s right baby, cum all over tongue.”

Seconds later, you're soaking his mouth while you writhed in pleasure. But Jungkook didn’t stop. He was too blissed out with his face in your cunt. He would stay like this forever if he could. He pulled one hand away from your thigh, to sneak around to your entrance, a finger slipping inside.

“Oh god, Kook, it’s too much.”

“You can do it, baby. I know you can.”

You looked like you were about to protest before he curled his finger up, hitting your g-spot. You cried out, more slick pouring out of you, if that was possible. He knew that there was a large wet spot staining his ten-thousand-dollar couch, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Slipping another finger in you, he began to flick with his tongue, daring you to come again. It didn’t take long.

“Oh shit, Kook, shit, shit, gonna cum, shit, shit-”

He’s never heard you scream so loud in all the months he’s had the privilege of giving you orgasms. Before he could properly register what was happening, you were squirting all over him. Your hips bucked out of your control as you painted his face with your orgasm. Jungkook swore that if he had any less self-control, he would’ve come all over in his pants. 

As you came down from your high, Jungkook scooped you up, carrying you to the bedroom. He laid you gently on the bed, giving you a few moments to recover as he stripped himself of his own clothes. You sat up, watching him closely as he slowly revealed himself to you. He was well built, he knew that, but you often told him how much you appreciated his muscles, as if the way you kissed and bit his abs weren’t enough of a clue. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t started working out more just to please you. 

But he also knew that he could never step foot in a gym again and you would still love him just as much. That was the difference between you and his wife. You loved him without condition, without the need for him to be someone he wasn’t. His wife had fallen in love with only one version of him, a version that no longer existed. 

He joined you on the bed, crawling up between your legs, giving you a soft kiss when he reached your lips. You fell back on the pillows letting him take in your face, your body, you. He bucked up against you, tip rubbing your clit and you let out simultaneous moans. 

Just when he was about to slip into you, his phone rang on the bedside table. He groaned, lifting himself up to see who dared to call him when he was about to have sex with the love of his life. A flash of guilt rushed through him when he saw his wife’s name light up the screen. Of course it was her. Despite everything, this was a woman who would keep up appearances until her dying breath. And here he was, about to have sex with another woman in their shared bed. He sighed, swiping to ignore the call, before tossing it back on the table. 

This time, he didn’t wait to enter you, thrusting in immediately. He groaned at the feeling of your soft walls encapsulating him. Ever since the first time you had had sex, he had always made sure to use a condom, but he couldn’t bring himself to care that he wasn’t using one now. Being inside you without the extra barrier felt so intrinsically right. In fact, part of him was excited about the idea of going raw and risking getting you pregnant. 

“You wanna get me pregnant?”

Your voice was soft and curious. He stilled inside of you, 

“Umm…?”

His voice trailed off as he tried to come up with a reasonable response. His brain failed him. 

“It’s okay if you do. It’s kinda hot actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t mind having your kid.”

Jungkook couldn’t help the moan that fell out of his mouth. He thrust softly in you. So many hormones were flooding his brain that he could barely focus on what was happening. 

“Well, then I guess it’s my duty to make sure you’re nice and pregnant for me by the end of the night.”

“Yeah, Kookie,” you whined, “give it to me. Want you to cum in me. Want your baby.”

The two of you met in a messy kiss as Jungkook pounded into you, balls slapping your ass. Desperation flooded him, determination to knock you up with his child overriding every other need. He’d never had the desire to get someone pregnant like this before. There was something about you that pulled at all his primal instincts. 

You were tightening again, your moans drowning out the sound of skin slapping accentuated by Jungkook’s own grunts. Jungkook himself wasn’t too far from finishing himself, having been on edge since you squirted all over him. 

“Fuck baby,” you moaned, “you fuck me so well.”

“Yeah. Are you gonna cum for me? Are you gonna cum so that I can get you pregnant?”

“Yes, fuck, I love yo-” 

Your voice faded into a scream as tears rolled down your cheeks as you came for the third time that night. The look on your face triggered Jungkook’s own orgasm. He roared as jets of white cum covered your inner walls. His hips stuttered as he chanted your name. Your legs were wrapped tightly around his waist, holding him deep within you. 

He rolled over without pulling out, keeping you tight in his arms.

“Mmm,” you hummed, “hope that did the trick.”

“Yeah? Me too,” he smiled. 

You grinned back.

“Are you not gonna pull out?”

“We gotta keep my cum in you so we make sure it does the trick.”

“Okay,” you chuckled.

“What?”

He pouted.

“You’re just cute.”

“I’m not cute.”

“Sure...”

He giggled when you rolled your eyes, pressing a peck on your lips. The two of you stayed like that for the rest of the night, wrapped in each other's arms, talking until sleep carried you off into dreamland. 

Jungkook woke the next morning before you. He took a moment to admire your face, not believing that you were really all his. He softly kissed your forehead before wiggling his way out of your embrace. 

He quietly slipped on a tee and some sweats before making his way to the kitchen where he put on a pot of coffee. While he waited, he checked his phone, expecting to find a voicemail from his wife. He was surprised to find none. He opened the phone app and his stomach dropped. There at the top of his recent calls was a twenty-minute call with her. He must have accidentally answered it. She must have heard everything. Anxiety crept up on him as he began to pace the white kitchen floor. Before he knew what he was doing, the phone was dialing. 

“Hello?”

Her voice was groggy.

“Hi.”

His voice quivered. 

“What do you want Jungkook?”

“Oh, umm, I’m sorry I guess,” his voice is quiet, “For what you heard.”

“You mean listening to you moan about how you wanted to get your secretary pregnant?”

He cringed at her dripping sarcasm. 

“Yeah. That.”

“Don’t be.”

“What?”

“Don’t be sorry. I don’t care.”

“You don’t?”

“Jungkook,” she sighed, “I think we both knew something like this was going to happen.”

“Yeah, I guess. But that doesn’t mean that it was okay for me to cheat on you.”

“That’s true.”

They both stay silent for a minute, letting it all sink in. 

“I suppose that means this is the end of the road for us then, huh?”

“Yeah, it is. But it’s okay. We weren’t meant to be. All things being said, you sound like you really love her.”

“I do, I really do.”

“And if I’m being honest, I’ve kinda had a thing for my editor for a while.”

“Seokjin?”

He was honestly surprised that he remembered his name.

“Yeah.”

They both laughed. 

“We’ll talk when you get back, yeah?”

“Yeah. Goodbye, Jungkook.”

“Goodbye.”

He hung up before leaning against the counter, throwing his head back to look at the ceiling. A breath of relief escaped as all the weight he had been carrying for so long fell from his shoulders. It was over. His dead marriage was finished and now he had the rest of his life to love you. He laughed giddily before running to wake you up and tell you the news. 

Six months later, he’s on a beach in Jamaica, trying to take a picture of you without you noticing. He’s almost successful, your nose is buried too deep in a paperback you had propped up on your pregnant stomach, but you looked up when you heard the shutter click.

“Jungkook,” you groaned, “I told you not to take pictures of me.”

“I’m sorry, baby, I can’t help it. You're too sexy carrying my baby.”

You rolled your eyes behind your shades.

“Whatever. As long as no one else sees them.”

“Of course, baby. I’m keeping you all to myself.”

You grinned before turning back to your book.

A month after his conversation with his now ex-wife, their divorce had been finalized. He’d simultaneously quit his job as CEO, unafraid of disappointing anyone else at the expense of his happiness. He had made more than enough money to support the two, soon to be three, of you for the rest of your life. Together, you had moved to Jamaica, where you were working on opening a bakery and he had begun a fairly successful photography business. And in three months, the two of you would welcome a beautiful baby girl into the world.

He sighed, overly content with his life. He glanced down to your hand to spot the sparkling diamond on your ring finger. A month ago, he had taken you out on a boat ride where he had asked you to be his wife. You had eagerly accepted. 

Now he was blissed out in that island paradise he had dreamed about all those months ago. His stress levels were an all-time low. And, sure, maybe his parents weren’t that happy with him, (all though his mother was over the moon when he announced the impending arrival of a grandchild, finally), but whenever he woke in the morning with you by his side, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. You were his whole world, and he wouldn’t give that up for anything. 

masterlist

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 9k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: medical play, dom!jungkook, sub!reader, multiple orgasms, fingering, dirty talk, bondage, ruined orgasm, unprotected sex, squirting, oral (m receiving), cum eating (not yoongi for once), this was meant to be a light palate cleanser after the intensity of day ten but i got lost in my feelings in the first half and then got horny over doctor jeon in the second half i apologise

banner designer @jamaisjoons​ | thank you my darling SFHS babies ! i love you

DAY ELEVEN

“I think you should be a little more concerned, PD.”

Sejin flattens the two men - oldest and youngest of the house - an unimpressed look. Jungkook tries not to wilt under his gaze. “And why is that?”

Jin clears his throat, staring right back unabashedly. “Tae’s been involved in a terrible accident and you’re just waiting here. You should be rushing over to the house to save him.”

“A terrible accident?” Sejin questions monotonously, before turning in his chair to angle his monitor so that both boys can see. On the screen is a freeze frame of a very familiar scene - Taehyung crouching on the bottom of the stairs, Jin and Jungkook huddled around him.

Ah, Jungkook realises with sinking disappointment, the cameras. Once the producer clicks play on the recording, Jungkook is faced with the HD version of himself gesture excitedly, patting Taehyung on the back and pointing to the banisters.

Cheeks flushing, the youngest member of the house watches in dread as Sejin plays back the evidence of Taehyung willingly forcing his head through two banisters, ears popping out the other side as he glances up with a beam at Jin.

Having seen enough, Sejin pauses the video, and switches back to the realtime feed. “An accident, was it?” Sejin repeats rhetorically as the Taehyung on the security camera drums his fingers lazily against the wood posts, letting out a lionlike yawn. “I’m not an idiot, you know.”

Jungkook bites down hard on his tongue. This wasn’t how things were meant to go at all. Behind Sejin’s desk, the majority of the production van is filled with all the mess of a regular office. Stacks of paper, scribbled sticky notes on various surfaces, a large whiteboard with roughly handwritten schedules and a small game of naughts and crosses in the bottom right corner. Jungkook tries not to let his eyes dwell on the whiteboard too long. Don’t raise anymore suspicion.

Beside him, Jin shamelessly shrugs with a smile. “He put his head through the bars on purpose, sure, but he got stuck on accident.” The oldest - though still younger than Sejin himself - emphasises this distinction with a single outstretched finger and an arch of his eyebrows. “So you should go help him.”

Sejin slips his glasses off and lets them clatter to the table, pinching his brow with two fingers. “Am I gonna get there and have Taehyung ask me for the latest issue of Chinese Vogue?”

Jin stiffens, his mask temporarily shattered. “I requested that in confidence.”

The production manager throws his hands in the air in defeat. “How was I supposed to know which of your bogus requests was confidential? Just half an hour ago I got a call from my superior asking why #getjinanXL was trending. You tweeted that you wanted me to buy you extra large condoms because you ‘ran out.’”

“Well, that was obviously a joke,” Jin rebuffs easily. “You know I use Magnum.”

“How would I-?” With a huff of desperation, Sejin shakes his head to clear his mind. “No, okay, back to…”

Zoning out, Jungkook’s eyes are caught by the sight on the screen as another figure walks out into the foyer. Yoongi rushes forward once he sees Taehyung, crouching on the other side of the bars as he delicately prods around Taehyung’s face and neck. The younger man waves him away in frustration, pushing at Yoongi’s chest until he gives up and leaves reluctantly. Jungkook bites his lip and looks away.

Whoops. Staring right at him are the producer and the therapist, each as expectant as the other. “Huh?”

Sejin huffs. “Why would Taehyung intentionally stick his head through the bars of a staircase banister?”

“Tell him, Jungkookie,” Jin adds with a bump of his shoulder.

“Uh…” With a hard swallow, Jungkook’s mind whirls. “He… We were… measuring,” he finishes awkwardly. “Me-measuring Tae’s head.”

“You were measuring Taehyung’s head?” Sejin repeats flatly. “With the stair banister?”

Jungkook shrugs with what he hopes is a ‘what can you do?’ expression, laughing nervously. “We couldn’t find a ruler.”

Sejin blinks once. “Then how would you know how wide the gap between posts was? Without a ruler?”

“Oh.” Jungkook stares in barely subdued panic at Jin, who widens his eyes meaningfully, urging him to turn back to the awaiting producer. “We, um, we didn’t think that far. We’ll know for next time?”

“If you want to stay on this show, there will be no next time,” Sejin warns.

Jungkook ducks his head in shame. “Sorry, dad.”

“Y- what?” Jungkook hears Sejin cough lightly, flustered. “Please, Jungkook, that’s not appropriate.”

The youngest gives a little bow. “I apologise, Father.”

Sejin clicks his tongue. “Okay, that’s even worse.”

Jungkook glances up, brows knitting and head tilting in confusion. “...whoopsies, daddy?”

Sejin buries his face in his hands, fingers tugging at the hairline. Jungkook spots several grey strands.

Clearing his throat, Jin steps forward slightly. “Taehyung is still stuck, PD.”

“Okay, fine! Fine,” Sejin announces, pushing his chair away from the desk and standing up. “But if there is a single other incident like this, I’m calling in child protective services and getting them to baby-proof this place. No more funny business. Understood?”

“No more. Promise,” Jungkook assures sweetly, heart soaring as Sejin slips past them, hurrying out of the production van and towards the front door of the villa.

The moment he’s well out of earshot, Jin claps his hands once with a victorious grin. “It was a bit touch-and-go there,” he admits, “but that’s bought us time. Quick; get the whiteboard, I’ll grab some pens.”

Jungkook grins. Like secret agents, hyung and him were. Moving quickly, the two of them manage to sneak out the whiteboard from the van, trundling it noisily across the gravel, around the back of the house.

---

“I’ll be honest,” Jimin drawls, “I don’t understand why we couldn’t have just chatted about this. Is the whiteboard really necessary?”

Taehyung deflates immediately, one hand still rubbing at the red marks on his jaw and ears. “What do you mean? I suffered for this whiteboard, Minnie.”

It’s crowded; five people huddled inside the confessional booth. But apart from the bathrooms and the rec room, this was the only place without live security cameras - purely because the only camera needed was the one for the confessionals themselves - and Jin and Jungkook doubted they’d be able to smuggle a very noisy whiteboard into the rec room when Sejin was directly outside it lubing up Taehyung’s neck with aloe vera gel.

While Producer Shin had been lured away by Jin with the promise of a homecooked meal, the four youngest men in the house were bundled into the garden shed, staring at a whiteboard that had barely fit through the door.

Jimin, still unconvinced, shrugs. From his spot perched delicately on Namjoon’s lap he watches the two younger men take a picture of what’s written on the whiteboard, then rub it all out. The man of the hour, Namjoon had been given the right to sit on the only proper chair in the room, the one the producer would normally sit in. Beside it, the wooden stool sits unoccupied. Jimin told the others that he was sitting on Namjoon’s lap because the stool was too uncomfortable, but Jungkook thinks there’s something deeper in the way he relaxes onto Namjoon’s chest, the academic alert but not tense underneath him.

Or perhaps being on this show has made Jungkook more suspicious.

“The whiteboard was vital, hyung,” he defends adamantly, grabbing one of the pens Jin-hyung had handed him, yanking off the cap with a satisfying click. Immediately the alcoholic smell of ink tingles his nostrils, but he ignores it, turning to the others. “What if Namjoon-hyung was a visual learner?”

From behind Jimin’s back, Namjoon adjusts the bridge of his glasses. “I- actually I learn best through listening.” His hand drops, hovers over the space both him and Jimin share, then rests awkwardly on the armchair. “But I appreciate the thought.”

Namjoon-hyung is so cute. “It’s okay,” Jungkook assures, suppressing the endeared grin that tugs at his lips, “We can brainstorm out loud, and Tae and I will just take notes.”

With Taehyung in his Sunday best (well, a button-up shirt so baggy it looked like he hat batwing sleeves) and Jungkook having dug out his glasses to look extra smart, the two of them were prepared to make this as academic as possible for Namjoon. Even after getting laid for the first time, academics were his comfort zone, and the two youngest were happy to oblige.

“First things first; what was it you had to do? Honeymoon?”

Jimin leans back on Namjoon’s shoulder so the taller man can see past. Namjoon shakes his head lightly, his purple hair in serious need of a touch-up; the natural brunette frames his face now, emphasising his brow. Jungkook wonders if he’d let him dye it a new colour, just for something fresh.

“Just husband and wife,” the academic corrects, “It didn’t specify, uh, anything else.” His voice is still quiet, as if speaking on it is taboo. One day he’ll get used to discussing sex openly, but until then, the others will meet him halfway.

“Okay, so, Y/n is your wife,” Jungkook states with a nod, “do y’all have kids? Is it a newlyweds situation? We need  backstory here.”

The squeaking of a pen catches Jungkook’s attention before he even finishes speaking. To his right, Taehyung writes in sharp strokes across the board.

Y/N PREGNANT

“It’s the nineteen thirties,” Taehyung announces in a smooth voice, eyes finding each member in the room, “war is imminent, and worldwide men are preparing to be conscripted. Every moment spent with their loved ones is precious, and for General Kim Namjoon,” Taehyung pauses to draw a gangly stick figure giving a salute, “him and his wife Y/n-” this time a female stick figure joins the scene, a cartoonishly round stomach off to one side, “-have only one goal. To knock Y/n up before he goes to battle, so that even if he never returns they ha-”

“Wait, wait!” Jimin cocks his head to the side, brows furrowed. “Isn’t this too dark? Too elaborate? They’re fucking, not going for best screenplay at the Oscars.”

Taehyung deflates a second time, the hand holding the pen dropping limply to his side. “You don’t like it?”

Face stricken, Jimin waves his hands frantically. “No, no, I love it! Honestly! I just- I feel like Namjoon probably wants something a little simpler? Perhaps not so bleak?” The blue-haired man swivels around on Namjoon’s lap, his hand resting inconspicuously on the back of his neck, playing with the longer hairs there.

Namjoon swallows. “Uh, yeah, simple is probably good. Honestly, I feel a little unsure about all of this. What if I, I don’t know, drop character or get shy? Won’t it be awkward?”

Taehyung scratches at his chin as he thinks, the beginnings of beard scruff shadowing his jaw. “If we help you brainstorm, you can just memorise a basic script.”

“I guess so,” Namjoon muses, eyes fluttering unconsciously as Jimin continues to trace the nape of his neck with his fingertips. “Are you sure you don’t mind? I know you have your own scenes to worry about.”

Jungkook shrugs. “Two birds with one stone, we can help each other. You know; I suck your dick, you suck mine.”

“That isn’t the quote,” Namjoon protests automatically, “but- I get your point. Anyone have any advice on how I even go about this?”

Taehyung pouts. “You’re the smart one,” he points out, “I did try to help but clearly my services weren’t appreciated.”

“Oh, honey,” Jimin coos, “I always appreciate your services.” The double entendre is clear in the silk of his voice and the arch of his brows, sent with a sweet smile, and Taehyung flushes in response.

Jungkook winces, ignoring the spike of - of something green and ugly in his chest. “Okay, enough from the lovebirds, this is about Namjoon. Joonie-hyung, I would just offer to help out and join with yours but I was gonna do mine this afternoon, and I don’t think a husband would fit very well into it.”

“That’s okay,” Namjoon assures, shifting under the weight of the man in his lap. His fingers flex on the arm of the chair behind Jimin’s back, unsure. “Taehyung? Yours might work, I guess.”

Unaware of Namjoon’s indecision, Jimin suddenly stands up off his lap entirely, stalking over to Taehyung with a bemused grin. “You think our well-trained Taehyungie could be the family dog?”

Taehyung, though keening under Jimin’s sudden attention, seems hesitant. “I- I don’t know, Minnie, I haven’t really…” He trails off helplessly, casting Namjoon an apologetic stare.

“It’s okay,” Namjoon rushes out, scooting forward to the edge of the armchair. “You don’t have to, I could just do it by myself.”

It’s strange, watching Jimin so visibly caught in indecision. He hovers in the centre of the small shed, torso towards Taehyung but head twisted back to stare at Namjoon. Wanting to support Namjoon, but wanting to protect Taehyung.

Jungkook feels like an outsider invading in on a precious equilibrium. Namjoon shifts, gaze dropping. Taehyung can’t keep his fingers still as they fiddle with the buttons of his shirt. Jimin’s so still the thin silver threads of his earrings don’t even shift in the air, but his eyes flood with emotion, bottom lip twitching just slightly as he seeks for something to say.

Jimin isn’t as mean as he’d like people to think, Jungkook muses. Saving the uncomfortable decision, Jungkook clears his throat awkwardly, diverting the attention of the other three. “We could always practice? Jimin, you’re pretty. Pretend to be Y/n and give Joon-hyung some tips.”

The effect of his words are instantaneous. Jimin perks up, turning on his heel to grin down at his elder, who gasps almost imperceptibly. Taehyung’s eyes dull with something akin to disappointment. At himself or at the situation, Jungkook can’t say, but the sight of him turning to the whiteboard and swirling sullen circles of ink on the glossy surface has Jungkook’s heart breaking.

Leaving the other two to talk - Jimin resting gracefully on one of the arms of the chair, his feet dangling between Namjoon’s - Jungkook hurries forward, wrapping his fingers around Tae’s to catch his attention.

“What’s up?” he asks softly, low enough to give the two some privacy.

Sucking on the inside of his cheek, Taehyung shrugs. “Nothing.”

Jungkook isn’t deterred by the shortness of his tone, but changes tacts nonetheless. “It’s a bit weird,” he offers up, “it’s like each of us is the wingman to the other guys, but we’re all going for the same girl.”

With Jungkook’s hand still on top, Taehyung begins to swipe the pen across the board again. This time, what looks like a flower with long, pointed petals takes shape in thick black lines. Taehyung himself stays focused for a few moments of silence, until he’s ready to speak.

“But it’s not just that,” he explains in a low timbre, “it’s not just her.”

Jungkook lets his hand be maneuvered by the deft movements of the masseuse. Every part of Taehyung was so elegant, like he’d been sculpted from marble. From those slender fingers, to the slope of his nose. Lashes that brushed against his brow bone as he focused, teeth pressing just slightly into his lip, a dusky pink. “No, it’s not,” Jungkook agrees after a moment.

Taehyung lets his hand fall, Jungkook’s slipping off. With eyes hidden behind dark curls, the elder sneaks a look at Jimin and Namjoon, the two smiling and laughing, Jimin’s fingers playing with the strap of the watch on the other’s wrist lazily.

“I never know who to be jealous of,” Taehyung admits with a weak chuckle, capping the pen. “Anyways; that doesn’t matter. We’re here to help Namjoon.”

Jungkook spares a glance at the lovebirds on the armchair. “I think he’s doing just fine.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung answers shortly, eyes locked on the way Jimin curls onto Namjoon’s shoulder, the two locked onto Namjoon’s phone as he types in notes. “He’ll do fine.” Letting out a deep sigh, Taehyung scrunches his eyes shut and shakes his head, like he’s clearing the funk away. “It doesn’t matter, we’re all in this together.”

Jungkook cocks his head. “But- Well, no, this is still a competition. Technically we should be against each other, not together.”

The air leaves Taehyung’s lungs in a rushed breath. “Fuck, you’re right. I should, like, hate you, right?”

Jungkook hums with a raised brow. “I guess.”

“I should be trying to cockblock you and tell Y/n you have syphilis, yet here I am wanting to suck the dicks of everyone in this room. But also maybe hold the hands of everyone in this room. You can imagine my confusion.”

Jungkook feels his stress slip away at the genuine smile that tugs at Taehyung’s lips. Even if his eyes are still muted with sorrow, he doesn’t seem so despairing over it. The youngest reaches out to grip onto Taehyung’s upper arm reassuringly. “We could have hate sex if it’d make you feel better?” he offers up in a soft voice.

The blue depths in Taehyung’s gaze recede a little more as his smile brightens. “I’d like that.”

The two manage to hold this Hallmark moment for a little longer before Taehyung’s shoulders begin to shake with suppressed laughter. In seconds, the two are dissolving into chuckles and snickers, Jungkook throwing his head back and Taehyung hunching over with the force of it.

Across from them, Namjoon and Jimin pause their excited conversation to stare at them in bewilderment.

“What did we miss?” Namjoon asks, brow knitted but eyes wide.

“Never mind,” Jungkook deflects, heart feeling strangely warm as Taehyung grins under his lashes at him, like the two of them have an inside joke. “We should probably pack up, though, unless we want Producer Shin coming back in the middle of our top secret team meeting.”

Jimin clicks his tongue in agreement and stands up off Namjoon’s lap. Lithe like a cat, his arms come up over his head and his back arches into a stretch, eyes fluttering shut. Jungkook knows his eyes aren’t the only pair watching the way his shirt lifts to display a band of pale golden skin.

“Alright,” the porn star lets out with a relaxed sigh, arms dropping and shirt falling again, “let’s head out, then. Joonie’s sorted.”

Namjoon stands up behind him, nodding shyly. “Thank you, guys. I feel a lot better about it now.”

Jungkook and Taehyung share a look. “To be fair,” Jungkook says with a light cough, “I don’t think Tae and I really helped at all.”

Jimin sends the two of them a broad smile, eyes crinkling in good humour. “You did provide the whiteboard,” he points out. “Though I imagine your efforts to steal it without Sejin realising were in vain.”

Taehyung frowns, hand automatically lifting to rub at his jaw. “What do you mean?”

“There aren’t any cameras in here,” Jungkook offers to Jimin, “he wouldn’t have seen it!”

Jimin blinks. “Where do you think Sejin went after helping Tae out of the staircase?”

Jungkook feels the odd pressure of dawning realisation that hasn’t quite materialised. “His office,” he answers slowly, “why?”

Behind Jimin, Namjoon ducks out with a sympathetic smile. “He probably noticed the giant whiteboard missing, Jungkookie.”

The camboy opens his mouth, waits for words to come, and closes it again. “Mm,” he replies eloquently.

“Oh, we’re gonna get in big trouble, huh?” Taehyung mumbles, fiddling with the pen in his hands.

“Wait,” Namjoon offers, “I’ll tell him it was me.”

Jungkook frowns. “How does that help?”

“Sejin won’t get mad at me, he loves me. I’ll just tell him I was getting a head start on my work for next semester.”

“When did he tell you he loved you?” Jungkook asks with a pout. “He never says it back to me.”

“I didn’t- What?” Namjoon frowns. “I was just chatting to him for advice one night and he told me I remind him of his son.”

“He doesn’t have any kids,” Jimin says with a lilt of confusion.

“I think he was talking about his cat,” Namjoon admits with a pained look, “but he loves his cat, so he must love me. Anyways, I’ll tell him I was using it for study and I don’t think he’ll mind. Just clear off the board and one of you can help me wheel it back.”

Jungkook sighs a breath of relief, turning back to the board. Beside it, Taehyung is frozen with his head bent and his mouth dropped open, staring at the pen. Neither Jin nor him thought to bring a duster, so Jungkook balls up his sleeve in his palm and wipes off the-

And wipes off the-

“Why isn’t it coming off?” Jungkook asks frantically, scrubbing over the shiny lines of black. “It’s not even smudging!”

“Um, Jungkookie,” Taehyung utters lowly, curls shifting as he slowly looks up. “This is a permanent marker.”

Jungkook’s hand freezes. He steps back, eyes wide as they stare at the image drawn in thick black.

The blooming form of what looked like a lily on the bottom corner, that was fine, but the giant all-caps Y/N PREGNANT followed by a very evocative drawing of a heavily pregnant woman beside a patriotic Namjoon was going to be harder to explain.

Slowly, Jungkook swivels on his heel, coming face-to-face with Namjoon, whose eyes are almost open wider than his mouth. “Hey, hyung,” the youngest offers up with a tentative smile, “how much d’you reckon Sejin loves that cat?”

--

It’s late afternoon by the time Jungkook has done his penance with the whiteboard and Sejin himself, but luckily it means that Yoongi is definitely in his room when Jungkook goes knocking.

More content with his own company, the second oldest tended to retire to his bedroom early to “entertain” himself. Jungkook had assumed this was a euphemism for masturbating, but Taehyung had informed him that the doctor was making his way through an impressive collection of the Slam Dunk manga these days.

As expected, Yoongi opens the door to Jungkook on his third knock, ushering him in with a look of confusion.

“Hyung,” Jungkook begins in an entreating tone, “you have a first aid kid in your room, don’t you?”

Yoongi’s eyes widen, back straightening in alarm. “Is someone hurt?”

“No, no, it’s sex reasons,” Jungkook explains quickly, eyes wandering around the room, eying up the open closet in the back of his room. “Do you have a white coat?”

“I- what? No, I don’t have a white coat,” Yoongi stutters out, face scrunched up in confusion. “What is this about?”

Jungkook hums, brushing back hair out of his face absentmindedly as he delves deeper into Yoongi’s room, checking in the drawers of the small nightstand. “I can make do without the white coat,” Jungkook murmurs to himself, before turning on his heel to face the older man again. “Do you have stirrups?”

“Stirrups?” Yoongi asks incredulously. His arms are folded over his chest tightly, though the brown loose-knit sweater loses the intimidation factor. “Why would I bring stirrups? They’re attached to the chair anyway, I can’t just pack them away in my suitcase.”

Dammit. Jungkook collapses onto Yoongi’s bed back-first, staring blankly up at the ceiling. “You need to help me, hyung. I’m determined to win fan favourite this week, so I need to go all out.”

A sigh of realization comes from the other side of the room. “Your prompt,” Yoongi remarks flatly. “What is it; nurse and patient?”

Jungkook’s mouth drops open as he sits up. “Doctor and patient,” he declares proudly. “I asked if Sejin could promote me to neurosurgeon but he said it wasn’t relevant.” The thought dampens Jungkook’s spirits a bit. Even just regular surgeon would have been nice. “But anyway,” he continues, “whatever props you have would be greatly appreciated. I already googled a list of medical terms, so I’m feeling pretty good.”

Yoongi sighs again, but he shuffles over to his closet and pulls out a sizeable, bright green first aid kit, laying it on the bed. Jungkook gasps in excitement and makes room for him, but Yoongi just tuts. “First of all,” he explains while unzipping it, “these aren’t props, they’re medical-grade supplies. And you can’t have them all. I don’t trust you with most of the things in here.”

Jungkook frowns, but shrugs off the disappointment. Something is still better than nothing. “Okay, hyung,” he allows in a small voice, “thank you.”

Yoongi fails to hide the quirk of a fond smile as he takes out some of the stuff in the kit. “You owe me,” he says instead.

--

You have to give it to Jungkook; the dedication to his craft is impressive.

After he sent you a vague and rather concerning message about needing to see you in the gym for ‘health reasons’, you were greeted by a hand-written DO NOT DISTURB (unless you’re y/n) sign taped to the door.

Inside, the indoor gym had been transformed. Most of the larger equipment had been shifted to one side, leaving the other half open. In the middle of the open area is a weightlifting bench covered in a white sheet which you’re certain was off his bed. A comically out-of-place office chair is beside a table which Jungkook is using like a desk. The desk is pushed up against the mirror which fills one whole wall of the gym, and you can’t help but laugh at the infographics and charts he’s printed out on A4 sheets of paper and taped to the mirror.

There’s a fuzzy x-ray of some ribs taped next to a heart rate line, frozen mid-pulse like he took a screenshot off a video, which is next to a chart filled with increasingly smaller letters, like one you’d see in an optometrist’s office. Though everything is mismatched, the effort he’s put it really warms your heart.

The desk is where you find Jungkook. He sits with his back to you, typing away obnoxiously loudly at a laptop on the desk. On the screen, gibberish keysmashes fill up an otherwise empty Word document. Rather than a lab coat, Jungkook looks more sharply dressed than you’ve ever seen him in a ironed button-up shirt, pale blue. The back of the fabric is taut against his skin, clearly borrowed from a slightly smaller, or at least less jacked man. But it provides a streamlined view of the muscles in his back and shoulders, tucked into belted black pants to highlight the surprisingly narrow waist.

Kitschy or not, you’re grateful that Jungkook got some kind of cheesy medical roleplay if it meant you finally got to see him in fitted clothing.

Even though he must have heard you open the door and lock it behind you, he remains tapping away at the keys. His head tips slightly to the side, expectant.

“Jungkook,” you call out, disappointed and a little confused when he doesn’t respond. But you quickly realise your mistake. “Oh, uh. Doctor Jeon?”

Like clockwork, he spins around magnanimously on the chair, hands splayed out in a welcoming gesture. “Ah, my favourite patient. Do come in.”

So we already know each other then, you surmise. Remembering all these details was an unexpected, though not entirely unwelcome part of this week’s theme. Developing a backstory, information on the scene, almost felt like constructing a scaffold to continue. There was something equally reassuring and exciting about it. A bolt of arousal shooting between your legs, you step in to the middle of the open area, sitting awkwardly on the covered bench.

“Take a seat,” Jungkook adds redundantly, like he’s following a script. “Let me just bring your file up. Name?”

You pause as he wheels back around to the laptop, pulling up what looks like an Excel spreadsheet. “I thought I was your favourite patient,” you quip with a smirk, but unable to suppress your fondness at how much thought he’s clearly put into it.

Jungkook’s shoulders drop, but he doesn’t falter. “Of course, I’m just going through the motions. I’ve been in the field for so long, you know.” He shrugs demurely. “I was actually a neurosurgeon before this.”

A disbelieving laugh bubbles out of your throat before you can catch it. “You went from neurosurgeon to doctor? Isn’t that backwards?”

Jungkook’s eyes waver, biting his lip. “I prefer the simple life,” he offers as an explanation. He shakes himself out of it, and turns back to the computer once more with a warm sigh. “Alrighty then, I’ve got your file here. It’s been a while since your last visit,” he remarks, cursor hovering over a watermarked image of a clock. “I better check your vitals again.”

You watch in bemusement as he readies himself, first sanitising his hands using a small travel-size bottle that’s in the shape of a cartoon shark, then pulls on a pair of latex gloves that had been lying on his desk. Even in the strangely comedic atmosphere, the sound of him snapping the glove against his wrist makes you gasp soundlessly, thighs pressing together in need.

Jungkook notices it, eyes darting down as he rolls his chair over. He unbuttons each cuff off his shirt and rolls them up to expose his forearms. His hair is getting thicker as it grows, and even though it’s pushed back, a few locks slip forward to frame the smirk on his face.

You swallow, neck craning as he gets closer. The bench you’re sat on clearly isn’t intended as an examination table because it’s just as low to the ground as the chair, and there’s something inside you that runs electric when he comes close, looking down at you from it. With spread knees, he places them on either side of yours and pins you there, making you gasp.

The feeling of the cold gloves on your cheekbones, pressing to keep you steady is dizzying, more so when he looks intensely into your eyes, searching with a cool professionalism that you’d never seen from him before. Though it’s new, you recognise the shift in the tension of the room signifying the true start of the scene.

In your peripheral vision, you spot his tongue darting out to wet his lips, but you’re locked onto his gaze. Jungkook smiles softly. “Eyes are healthy,” he remarks, “good to know you’ll be able to see everything properly.”

The gloves catch on your skin, one sliding down to tighten on your chin, tipping your neck back even more. You’re barely breathing, waiting for his move.

“Open up and say ahh,” he instructs huskily, and you’re responding without thought, letting your lips part and your tongue relax. Jungkook frowns. “Wider.” You feel the corners of your mouth pang as you lower your jaw as much as you can in his grasp. “Keep it like that,” he demands sternly, and your heart thuds.

To your surprise, he doesn’t just look inside. You jerk instinctively in his grip as two gloved fingers slide down your tongue, but his rebuking glare has you settling again, trying to breathe through your nose as he delves deeper, smirking at the way you squirm, legs trapped between his and eyes lidded as you feel the length of his fingers heavy on your tongue.

Quicker than you can put your head around, his fingers plunge deeper, far enough down your throat to make you gag, tears springing to his eyes. His fingers leave as you let out a little cough, blinking wetly at him in betrayal.

Jungkook smirks, not bothering to wipe the shine of your saliva off his glove. “Gag reflex intact and responding well,” he notes smugly.

“How is that a vital?” you question, voice slightly hoarse.

“It’s vital for what I’m about to do to you,” he quips with a lecherous grin, and you bite down hard on your tongue to fight the urge to tremble.

“And what is that, Doctor?” you ask instead, blinking owlishly up at him.

His lip quirks. “Don’t play coy, now,  Y/n, I’ve seen the way you look at me during our appointments. Tell me; why is it that you came here today?”

You swallow, eyes heavy on him. “I’ve been suffering a strange sensation, Doctor,” you make out, your voice quieter than you intended. “Can you make me feel better?”

Jungkook exhales harshly, hands dropping to rest on your knees. “And where does it hurt, hm? Here?”

You suck in a breath as his legs spread further, coming close enough that your knees press against his crotch, the hardness undeniable. A single hand shifts up to lay against your forehead, questioning, and you shake your head. His hand skims lower, pressing firmly against your sternum where you feel your heart race against it.

“Here?” he questions, and continues on when he receives a negative. Next he veers off to the side, cupping a breast and brushing a thumb over your nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt. “Does it ache here?”

You whimper, arching into his hand. “A little bit,” you offer up weakly, glad you opted out of wearing a bra in anticipation of the scene.

The answer seems to amuse Jungkook, and you shiver when you feel his other hand playing with the hem of your shirt, the gloves tickling the sensitive skin of your stomach. “I better check it out then, hm?”

You feel so exposed, the air conditioner chilling the air and the mirror reflecting Jungkook’s back as he leans in close, breath tickling your bare shoulder as his hands cup your breasts.

Without further preamble, he begins to roll your nipples simultaneously between his fingers, enough pressure to make you shiver as he studies your reactions closely. The feeling of being touched so intimately with the barrier of latex gloves feels both taboo and exciting, and without even realising you find your hands clenched in the fabric of his shirt, gripping at his biceps as they flex with every movement.

“Does it hurt when I do this?” Jungkook asks lowly, humming in response when you shake your head. “What about this?” Suddenly, he’s tugging, pinching them harshly enough to make your back arch to ease the pressure.

You squeal, fingers digging in deeper to the corded muscle of his forearms. “Yeah,” you gasp out shakily, “h-hurts.”

Jungkook doesn’t stop. “But you like it, don’t you?” he accuses as he continues his rough treatment. “Coming into my office, begging me to touch you like this. Fucking filthy.”

A moan slips out as you rock your hips against the bench, seeking friction for the heat between your legs. “Please, Ju- Doctor Jeon, it hurts,” you cry out, gaze imploring as you blink up at him.

All of a sudden, he pulls back entirely, hands falling back onto his own knees as he watches you. “Show me,” he instructs, eyes hazy.

You shiver, the cool air shifting over your naked torso as his stare burns molten hot. “Show you what?”

Carding a hand through his hair to push it back, Jungkook wets his lips. “Show me where it aches the most,” he explains, voice like crushed velvet.

This was a side of him you’d never seen before; neither the competitive dom nor the obedient sub. His sexual versatility never fails to surprise you, and you find yourself hopelessly lost in the calm dominant air he exudes. Shakily, you part your legs.

He scoffs lightly. “That isn’t much help if I can’t see it. Undress.”

A rushed exhale leaves you at his shortness, but you stand up and push off your leggings and panties, kicking them to the side. It’s far harder to bare yourself to him this time, and as you sit, you can’t help but hesitate.

Jungkook raises a brow at your pause, leaning back like he’s disappointed. “I’m a very busy man, Y/n,” he chastises, “these appointment slots aren’t long and if you don’t want the next patient coming in while you’re choking on my cock, I suggest you do as I say, when I say it.”

Your legs fly apart the moment his voice lowers into a growl, clenching automatically at the open air at your most vulnerable place. “Please help me, Doctor,” you plead lowly.

Jungkook curses under his breath and comes forward again, placing a single gloved hand over your core. You jerk instinctively but keep your legs open at his warning glare. Even through the gloves, he has to feel how wet you are, slicking up the latex without him moving it. “It hurts here, hm? Lie down on your back and I’ll take a look.”

Your breath picks up as you turn and lower yourself onto the white sheet, legs dangling over the end. To your surprise, Jungkook doesn’t come around but returns to the desk, rolling his chair away and rifling through what looks like a first aid kit. You crane your head to watch him, narrowing your eyes in confusion as he returns with what looks like two rolled up lengths of gauze bandage.

“This isn’t the usual gyno office,” he explains, unravelling one slowly, “so we don’t have stirrups. But don’t worry; I’ll make sure to keep you nice and open for me.”

Like he’s done this a million times before - though the rational part of your brain knows he’s probably making this up as he goes along - he begins using the bandage material to bind your ankles to the legs of the bench, wide enough that you have to shuffle right to the edge, spread wide. He doesn’t say a thing when he ties them, mumbling to himself like he’s recalling instructions, and slips in his fingers to test how tight they are.

He’s kneeled between your open legs now, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to watch as he runs his fingertips over your sopping folds, eyes lidded with arousal. “Does it hurt here, Y/n?”

You shake your head, fighting the urge to scoot even closer. “Inside,” you explain, sighing in relief when two fingers plunge inside your walls, scissoring to stretch you out.

Jungkook has one hand on your thigh to hold you steady as he rocks his fingers back and forth like he’s seeking something, and the feeling of the latex, so slick with your juices, has you trembling immediately. “It’s important in this line of work,” Jungkook breathes out as his fingers widen even more inside you, “to be thorough, so just relax for me, let me in.”

The moment you try and unclench, his fingers curl and press up against your g-spot, and it’s like a line of electricity connecting all your nerves together lights up. Your legs instinctively flex in an attempt to close around his hand, but the taut bonds keep them spread, and you sob at the reminder, arms giving out so that you end up flat on your back again.

Jungkook chuckles. “Looks like we found the problem,” he remarks cheerily. His fingers continue their assault, targeted now as you writhe beneath him, and the wet sounds of the latex as he increases to three digits echo obscenely in the large room. “That’s it.”

The joints of your fingers ache as you cling onto the edges of the table for dear life, unable to stop the rising wave of pleasure that threatens to crash. It’s so close you feel it in your teeth, eyes rolling back and babbling nonsense to try and get him to go faster, harder.

Faintly, you hear the sound of him humming in amusement, and your mind conjures the mental image of him, sleeves rolled up and gloves dripping with your arousal, hair falling in his eyes and teeth glinting as he grins and brings you to orgasm. It’s that thought that finally begins to tip you over the edge, and just before the wave crests, you feel his fingers slip out.

“Looks like it doesn’t hurt anymore,” he remarks cheekily.

“No, no, no, don’t stop,” you blabber mindlessly, but it’s too late, and your orgasm washes through you as he sits back and watches the unsatisfying roll of pleasure take your body.

Irrationally, you feel tears prick at your eyes with the cruelness of his actions. “It sti- It still hurts, Doctor,” you sob, reaching a hand down to cup yourself, wanting more even as you hiss with the sensitivity.

Jungkook tuts in fake sympathy. “My fingers can’t reach any further, Y/n, if I couldn’t reach where it hurts, I don’t know how I can help you.”

Your bottom lip trembles as you blink your eyes open again, struggling to focus on him. “Use your cock, Doctor, please, I’ll do anything.”

“Is that so?” You could just about cry in relief when you hear a belt buckle jingling, and Jungkook kneeling over you, lining himself up. You can feel the tip pressed against your entrance, just enough pressure to tease you. “Too impatient for me to even put a condom on, naughty girl.”

“Fuck, I don’t care, just fuck me, Doctor,” you whine, your sentence punctuated by a strangled cry as Jungkook snaps his hips forward, bottoming out in a single thrust.

Somehow you’d forgotten just how long Jungkook was - while he wasn’t the thickest or overall largest, and even the thought of mentally cataloguing the guys’ dicks was strange - there was a graceful rising curve to his length that felt like it pierced right through you, and as he starts a punishing rhythm, you feel the air punched right out of your lungs.

“Is this what you wanted?” Jungkook growls. “Acting innocent when you just wanted my cock to fuck you stupid, hm?”

With every thrust, your body is rocked back and forth on the bench, and you feel the bandages that bind your ankles to the legs of the table loosen, a little bit at first and then enough that they slip off completely. It feels odd to no longer be tied down, and Jungkook notices how your body is suddenly shifting far more than it was before.

His pace slows down and you feel a gloved hand wrap around one of your ankles. “Do you want them back on? I don’t think I tied them so well,” Jungkook notes hesitantly, and if you weren’t wildly chasing your orgasm, you might have cooed at his character dropping away to reveal the Jungkook you’re more used to.

As it is, your mind can only care about one thing. “I don’ need them, just fuck me!” you plead, and Jungkook exhales sharply, lifting your ankle until it rests on his shoulder, holding down your hips to fuck into you once more.

With the new angle, you can just about feel him in your guts, and your mouth drops open soundlessly, the only noises escaping your lips are gasped breaths as you feel a deeper orgasm begin to build.

“Oh fuck, I’m close,” you manage to slur out, a raw scream bouncing off the walls as he lowers a hand to rub at your clit, the slippery glove only making him thumb it faster. “Fuck, don’t stop, don’t you dare fucking-ah!”

Your sentence is cut off violently as an orgasm rips through you as suddenly and overwhelmingly as an electric shock. If you’re making any noise, you can’t hear it, your mind like white static as you sit there and let it take you. Every inch of you is singing, down to your toes, and as Jungkook continues to fuck you into oversensitivity, you feel another release, one that makes you shudder and Jungkook swear violently, spilling inside you as he grips at the flesh of your hip.

It takes a while for the blur in your mind to clear, vision swirling in hazy technicolour and whole body trembling. Jungkook must have taken the gloves off at some point, because you feel the softness of his hands as they seek out yours, gently squeezing to rouse you more.

“Y/n,” you hear him say, voice still distant. The fog dissipates more with the calling of your name, and you feel yourself tune in again, once more becoming aware of the cool breeze of the aircon on your heated skin. Jungkook leans over you, eyes bright with enthusiasm. “Y/n. Have you ever done that before?”

You knit your brows in confusion. “Huh?”

Jungkook lets out a light chuckle, sitting back. He’s still inside you, barely softening, and you groan at the sensitivity of him shifting. “Look,” he guides, and you glance down to see your stomach and thighs, shiny with wetness, too thin to be cum. The liquid soaks his shirt, too, leaving dark patches. “That was fucking hot,” Jungkook gushes, his doctor persona well and truly evaporated by now.

You laugh weakly, an exhausted smile stretching at your lips. “I don’t think so? Fuck, that was a lot.”

“You were amazing,” Jungkook praises, squeezing your hands one last time before letting them go. He begins to pull out, then, and you shudder at the emptiness, remnants of his cum dripping out of you as he lowers your leg to the ground again. You sit up carefully, still lightheaded, and watch as he quickly rushes over to the desk, returning with a gauze pad damp with water from a bottle.

He uses it to clean you up in comfortable silence, though you can’t help but bite your lip when you notice he’s still hard. Just as he finishes wiping away the last of the wetness from your thighs and begins to wipe himself off, you reach out a hand to halt him.

“Doctor,” you coo teasingly, “won’t you let me clean you up? I wanna repay you for making the ache go away.”

His chest heaves as he shudders out a breath. “Really?”

You blink up at him as he stands in front of you, his cock right in front of you, glossy with your combined cum. “Don’t you wanna test my vitals one more time, doctor? Just to make sure?”

He gulps as you lean closer and lick a single stripe up the underside of his cock. It’s only slightly bitter, and well worth it for the look on his face and the feeling of his hands carding through your hair.

“I’ve got some filing to do,” Jungkook offers up, chest puffing as he slips back into his role, “if you’re going to clean me up like a good little girl, you can do it while I get back to work. I’m a busy man.”

You bite your lip as he cups the back of your neck and urges you to stand, leading you towards the desk. It’s just tall enough that you can sit on your knees below it, mouthing at his cock as he sits back in the office chair.

Giving a guy head isn’t your favourite hobby, but there’s something weirdly erotic about licking your own cum off of him as he types away, all but ignoring you. As you clean him up dutifully, you realise it’s a challenge, of sorts, to suck him off so well that he breaks concentration.

His jaunty clicks of the mouse and punching of keys continues away as he sighs lowly, feeling your lips wrap around his tip. You tongue the slit, keeping yourself steady by gripping the meat of his inner thighs and let your eyes slip shut so that you can fully focus on the minute sounds he lets out.

As you take him deeper and deeper into your mouth, testing your limits, you begin to learn the rhythm of his typing, recognising what makes it falter. His tip is sensitive, particularly where it meets the shaft, but it’s when you lap at the skin below his base and suck his balls into your mouth, tonguing at them languidly, that makes him break concentration fully.

“Hngh, fuck,” you hear him make out in a strangled voice, a hand coming down to stroke at his own length.

You bat it away immediately. “I thought you needed to work, Doctor,” you tease, “just let me take care of it.”

Jungkook groans but doesn’t protest when you wrap a hand around him and jerk him off, fingers tight around him as you suck at his perineum, making him moan prettily, the tapping of keys sparse and uncoordinated.

“Fuck, gonna- gonna cum again,” he warns, thighs tensing with the urge to thrust up into your grip.

You switch positions to suck his length into your mouth, rolling his balls in your hand and bobbing your head. Jungkook’s falling apart so beautifully, gasping out little ah, ah, ahs with every breath.

The moment you feel him stiffen up even more, you suck in a breath through your nose and swallow him down to the back of your throat, tearing up as your gag reflex kicks in.

He cums with a cry, shooting ropes of cum down your throat, and you wring out every last drop until he’s hissing and pulling away.

Jungkook helps you up from under the table with shaky hands and tucks himself away, panting. “Holy shit,” he says with a exhausted laugh, “I should have gone to medical school.”

--

The two of you spend the late afternoon showering and then returning the gym to its former glory. It’s not until even dinner has passed before you recall the rule of the Bangasm Bomb - a different bed every night.

You’d slept in Jungkook’s bed on the Monday night, and so you’d have to seek shelter elsewhere.

After getting into pajamas, you step out into the second-floor hallway, glancing around to see if anyone’s door is open. Jin’s is open - he’s still downstairs having a beer with Yoongi - but you’ve used his bed before. The only other one that’s ajar is the bunkroom.

Inside, Namjoon has his nose inside a book by a Japanese author you’ve vaguely heard of, and Hoseok folds a pile of laundry on his bed.

“Room for one?” you call out hopefully. The two of them have each chosen a separate bunk so they can see each other, but while Namjoon has a bottom bunk, Hoseok’s hair just about brushes the ceiling on the third and highest bed. The two of them glance up in unison, matching grins as they wave you inside.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Hoseok chimes out cheerfully.

“I was wondering if I could stay in a bed here tonight. I can’t room with Jungkook again.”

Hoseok’s eyes warm in recollection of the scene the three of you shared on Monday. “Well, we’ve got plenty of space. Pick a bed; any bed.”

It makes the most sense to choose the third stack of beds, on the far wall from the door. With only two beds instead of three, it’s easy enough to choose the top one, a perfect halfway point between Namjoon and Hoseok. “It’s not so bad in here,” you remark, tugging up the sheets so you can slip under.

“As far as punishments go, it does seem pretty tame,” Namjoon notes, adjusting a pair of thick reading glasses that balance precariously on his nose. “Though I do feel like it’s the equivalent of a naughty corner. Even if it’s comfortable, it’s the social factor that makes it undesirable.”

“It’s basically a sleepover for losers,” Hoseok surmises.

Namjoon pauses and nods. “Well said.”

You chuckle. “You two seem to be getting along well. Doing a lot of bonding in here, are we?”

“Not a whole lot else to do,” Hoseok points out. “We’ve been chatting away the boredom. Did you know Namjoon thought he could speak to crabs when he was a kid?”

Namjoon lets out a wounded noise, carefully marking his page with a bookmark before tossing the novel to the side. “I never said that! I said I thought they were trying to speak to me, okay?” The academic pokes his head out to look up at you. “Hobi-hyung is scared of Big Bird from Sesame Street!”

Instead of defending himself, Hoseok nods with an indignant pout. “Yeah, I fuckin’ am.”

You let out a peal of laughter. “Wow, you’ve only been in here three nights and you’re already sharing childhood trauma? Jin’s gonna be devastated he missed it.”

“Jin had the chance to come join me and he chose not to,” Hoseok declares. “As far as I’m concerned, Namjoon is the only man in this house I respect.”

Namjoon beams, eyes crinkling behind thick frames. “Thanks, hyung. I respect you, too.”

Hoseok’s chest puffs up in pride. “You better after all the things I’ve taught you.”

Namjoon’s blush is telling. You lean forward in interest, glancing back and forth between the two. “Wait; what did you teach him?”

“Well, we’re not gonna tell you,” the dom responds petulantly, turning his nose up, “it’s a surprise for your scene together.”

You pout, leaning back onto the pillow on your bed. “That’s no fun.”

“Oh, it’ll be fun when you get to experience it firsthand, trust me.”

Namjoon lets out a sigh at Hoseok’s teasing, slipping his glasses off and placing them on the nightstand beside the bunks. “Don’t hype it up too much, hyung, I’m not that good yet.”

“You’ll get there, young grasshopper.”

You frown at the uncertain look on Namjoon’s face. “I can go ask one of the others to room with them if you wanna, uh, practice some more.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen. “No, it’s okay. This can be my rest day.”

Hoseok sighs sweetly, rubbing his eyes. “Actually, rest does sound pretty nice. We can pick it up tomorrow. Night, Joonie. Night, Y/n.”

You and Namjoon chime out a simultaneous reply as Hoseok climbs down the stairs to deposit his pile of folded laundry on the empty bed below, returns to the top bunk, and tucks himself in.

Namjoon seems equally relieved to be able to go to bed early, curling up with a pillow cuddled to his chest. “Sweet dreams,” his low timbre calls out.

You smile fondly at your two boys, snuggled up with peaceful faces as they drift away. “Sleep well,” you offer up, before getting comfortable and letting your own eyes slip closed.

[rkivepacks]

jungkook icons like/reblog if using/saving

[hansolmates]

a hero’s journey (m)

summary; jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story pairing; jungkook x editor!reader (f) genre/warnings; best friend’s boyfriend au, slice of life, angst with a happy ending because im weak, pining pINING, everyone’s kind of a mess in their own sweet special way, alcohol use, mentions of ze weed, toxic relationships, mean friends, sex—slight dom!kook, food play, fingering, squirting, heavy use of the petname “pretty girl” bc im weak, strength kink, manhandling (oop!) w.c; 22.2k a/n; woof! my first fic for @goldenclosetnetwork​ 23 | jungkook’s birthday project! this goes out to all the closet romantics *ahem me cough* who doesn’t love pining between a cutie koo? a huge thank u for vivi @eerieedits​ for making this bbbBEAUTIFUL fic banner!  

prompt used: “I should’ve known.”

if you like this fic pls consider giving a like n’share🥺💜🥺💜

It’s so easy to ignore the world. 

Maybe it’s a young-adult thing, but it gets difficult fitting into the 9-to-5 and playing to satisfy bosses that don’t entirely understand your work ethic. Maybe it’s out of complacency, or fear. But you prefer to let the world flow around you and when you’re needed, you’ll act. You’ve reached that point in your life where you enjoy the little things, satisfied by an extra hour of overtime tacked onto your paycheck, a new fabric softener, or finding the perfectly squishy yoga mat. 

You’ve finally started feeling comfortable in your shoes, uncaring as to whether you’re single or drowning in college debt, happy to live a relatively stable life. You’re grateful. There’s nothing more than you need than your happiness, and the love of your friends and family. 

Namely, your best friend from college. Jisoo always joked about how you two “won the lottery” as dorm rooms in freshman year were determined by lottery. Pulling numbers 883 and 884, you and Jisoo snagged a corner spot of the dormitory, leaving you two utterly cramped but utterly close as the years went by. Six years later and it’s still the case, the two of you have grown into talented working ladies. While you may not be able to spend time with each other the same way you did in school, you still care for each other. 

So when Jisoo shows up teary with a rumpled dress shirt and her hair waterfalling out of this morning’s bun, you break out the good alcohol and season three of Jane the Virgin for her. 

After the liquid is warm in your cheeks and you’ve fawned enough over Micheal and Rafael’s love triangle, you let Jisoo ramble. 

Jisoo has downed a whole bottle of soju on her own, while you’ve decided to have a tasteful glass of wine. You’d rather be tired wine drunk than wasted on soju. 

“Jungkook and I had a fight,” she warbles, stuffing a handful of popcorn in her mouth, “it was totally stupid.” 

Your eyes flash, picturing Jisoo and Jungkook in quarrel. They’re the epitome of an Instagram-worthy couple, beautiful and deathly charming to a fault. They show nothing but kindness and sweetness to you whenever you third-wheel, not a lick of anger between them when you’re all together.

So a fight is something surprising. Jisoo and Jungkook, J-squared are a power couple. Saying their names next to each other just emits a sort of energy you can only akin to famous small screen couples like Troy and Gabriella or Cory and Topanga. Jisoo’s Instagram is belly full with sweet selfies of them together, the doe-eyed man always looking completely sweet and gentle to the woman in his arms.

You never piqued Jungkook as the type of guy who would pick a “stupid fight.” And you know Jungkook pretty well. 

Maybe a little too well. 

“He surprised me during my lunch break and he caught me talking to Doyoung and he thought I was flirting,” Jisoo is practically eating her sweater, her head falling between her flannel pyjama sleeves. 

“Doyoung, as in your ex Doyoung?” you raise a brow. 

She groans, glaring at you in earnest. “Not you, too! I told him it was ridiculous to get jealous, and then I told him how jealous I get when he’s around girls and I don’t need to tell him that,” she rolls her eyes, twisting her feet petulantly in her fuzzy socks, “but then you know what he says back?” 

You wince, swirling your wine glass, “That you’re crazy?” 

“That I’m crazy, exactly! How did you—” her bloodshot eyes zero in on you, where you’ve tucked yourself in the corner of the couch. You swirl the ruby liquid in your cup, watching the feet web around the cheap crystal, “you think I’m crazy too, don’t you?” 

You swallow your sigh, taking your time to finish your liquid in languid sips. Uneasy, you wish you could just sink through the couch in order to avoid this conversation. Jisoo’s heart is generally in the right direction, but in terms of emotions she has the kind of sensitivity that you prefer to ignore rather than tread. Jungkook is also equally emotional, but in a different way. He wears his heart on his sleeve, preferring to keep things straight as opposed to bottling it up like Jisoo. 

However the theoretic bottle has reached it’s brim and Jisoo’s tipping, fast. 

“I need to tell you something,” Jisoo is swerving, crawling like an infant on wobbly limbs to reach your corner of the couch. You almost stop her, tell her you can continue this conversation in the morning, it’s what you normally do when she drinks into a stupor. But tears are swimming in her glassy caramel eyes and she’s grappling onto your blanket, resting her head in her lap. 

Her glossy russet strands curtain her head, so you don’t see the expression on her face when she says her next words: 

“Jungkook told me he liked you senior year, and I told him you weren’t interested so I’d have a chance.” 

Wow. So that explains everything.

The memories that you’ve tried so hard to brush away, the feelings you’ve tried so hard and continue to try to suppress, are laid out in front of you on a rusted platter. You could laugh, you could fling the rest of the Pinot Grigio down your throat like fresh water on a hot day and call it a night. 

But instead you choke back your tears, and push her off because you’re hurt.  

Deep down you know you would’ve been less upset if she told you the week after Jisoo and Jungkook called it official. If you knew from the beginning, it would’ve been easier on your heart. But it's been over two years since the past, thinking you’ve been needlessly, stupidly, delusional in thinking that you could’ve possibly had a chance with Jungkook.

Because it could’ve been you. And the reason why Jisoo and Jungkook fought today? Now you know it’s because deep down, they know they’re each other’s second choice. 

You can’t even recall a time where Jungkook and Jisoo were together alone before they suddenly started dating, remembering how it used to be you and Jungkook before Jisoo found him one day in your shared apartment, utterly smitten. And now you know you weren’t delusional, because the feelings and the signals you two were exchanging in senior year was real. 

But it doesn’t stop the fact that over two years have passed. Two years of a serious relationship between Jisoo and Jungkook, and two years of you secretly loving him from an arm’s length. 

“You hate me,” Jisoo removes herself from you, voice trembling. The quick, dark part of your mind wants you to snap back of course I hate you. You’ve trusted Jisoo with your life all these years, she was the reason you got through college so gracefully, why you enjoyed the past seven years of your life. 

But the sentiment is stained, and all you can do is deliver a tired smile and stand up. “I don’t hate you,” you say, “I’m just, really overwhelmed. I can’t lie and say that I’m not hurt,” your fingers clutch the fake crystal in your grasp, and for once you’re thankful you’re not strong enough to break it, “but you two love each other now and there’s no point in dwelling in the ‘what-ifs’.” 

Now that you think about it, when was the last time Jisoo treated you like a best friend? You stare at your wine glass, thinking that the only time comfort is provided in this apartment is when Jisoo is upset, never when you’re upset. 

Jisoo bobs her head senselessly, agreeing to every word. It’s pathetic, seeing her on her knees and her eyes glimmering with the hope that you’d forgive her straightaway. She must feel awful. That’s good.  

You sigh, needing to be the bigger person. “You need to call Jungkook and tell him he has nothing to worry about though, after all, you two have history now. As much, if not more than Doyoung.” 

“Right,” she replies, biting her lip. It suddenly feels like you're talking to a wall, carrying a conversation that's long ended.

“As for us,” you have half a mind to slam your glass on the counter, but instead you give it a heavy hand, letting slowly thump to the coffee table, “I don’t think I want to see you two, for a while.” 

“Understandable.” 

“And I don’t want to help you move out anymore,” I just want you gone.  

“Right,” she whispers. The both of you will be completed with your lease in two months, and Jisoo and Jungkook have decided to move into Jungkook’s apartment. As for you, you haven’t decided as to whether you want to go through the whole process of moving out or looking for a new roommate. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so so fucking sorry. I just was insecure as fuck in college and Jungkook was the first person I met in a long time that helped me feel more… like me.”

You want to say that she's right, she’s selfish. Her excuses aren’t palpable anymore. It’s too late. But if you were in Jisoo’s shoes, you’d think this apology is mere crumbs in comparison to your friendship. Why isn't she trying harder? Maybe because she doesn't know any better. After all, you never told her what you felt for him has morphed into love. 

You don’t even have to ask as to whether she’ll tell Jungkook this or not, you now know honesty is not her style. 

Jisoo doesn’t get a goodnight and a drunken kiss on the forehead like she usually does whenever you two have your late night talks. Instead, she seals herself to her own demise as you slam the door to your bedroom, effectively shutting each other out. 

Work is a bitch the following morning. You’re like molasses, rolling out of bed despite the whole world and its mother telling you to go back to sleep. 

Your feet are killing you as you make your walk to work, deciding to wear a pair of red-backed heels so you can stomp your way through your day. 

Your Wusband (Work-Husband) Kim Namjoon matches you step-for-step, eyes glued to his phone as he catches you on the sidewalk. “Woman on a mission,” he comments absentmindedly, eyes glued to his phone as he follows the click of your shoes to your favorite cafe. 

You spare a glance to your right hand-man, eyeing him appreciatively at his dedication to your morning routine. He’s your favorite co-worker, one who keeps you on time to your meetings and keeps you sane when you want to pull your hair out and dig out a coffin in your little cubicle. Namjoon’s long legs always seem to catch up with you during your workweek, whether it’s to get coffee in the morning or to talk shit about the latest gossip in the breakroom. 

The bell of the glass door tinkles in your ears as you enter the café, relatively busy for the morning rush. While you wait in line, Namjoon ticks off your activity list for today. 

“Meeting with Victoria is cancelled this morning,” you groan in relief, your supervisor Victoria always scares the shit out of you even when she’s not doing anything, “and just the usual proofing and whatever we have to do on the third floor today—can I get a large iced Americano with a pump of caramel? Thanks,” Namjoon moves aside so you can throw your order in as well, “and after work could you stop by Vernon’s? He took a sick day today and he has most of the manuscripts for the next issue.” 

“Done and done,” you swipe your card in the dip, tucking your card away in your zippered pouch. “So like, do Americanos taste any good? Like it’s literally watered down espresso how do you pay to drink watered down tar—” 

Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter. Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter swirling stray sugar crystals with his thumb and putting them in his napkin. What an impeccable display of Virgo energy, absentmindedly cleaning things he has no business doing. You scoff to yourself, recalling this morning that Jisoo got off the phone this morning with a stupid smile on her face. From the mirror image that Jungkook is excluding while he’s smiling on his cellphone like a smitten teenager, it seems like they’ve made up. 

Nevertheless the hurt from last night is still fresh in your bones, and you force yourself to look away despite the fact that your morning pick-me-ups are almost done and are sitting tauntingly next to Jungkook’s elbow. Does he really need to learn against the counter like he owns it? Hair slightly damp from the shower, your heart beats a little faster at the fresh image.His biceps are straining against his charcoal lycra long sleeve, which is slightly damp from his morning run. Snap out of it! You are a mature, working woman who does not swoon in the view of bulgy muscles, especially when the man who owns those muscles is taken. Suddenly there’s a call of your name, and two cups and a paper bag are put in front of Jungkook. 

He blinks, and you immediately pale when you see his eyes flit over your name surrounded by your favorite coral pink beverage. You feel struck as his head perks up at the name and he narrowly makes eye-contact—

“The fuck you’re doing,” Namjoon gripes, shoving your guava iced tea and croissant in your chest, “standing there like a moron as if we don’t got shit to do today.” 

“Sorry,” you mumble, pulling at the brown paper bag to tug a piece of croissant between your teeth. The warmth, buttery pastry melts in your tastebuds. Ah, bread. Nothing like a little bit of carb to make you feel better. 

You’re suddenly thankful for Namjoon’s gargantuan torso from effectively blocking you from Jungkook, hauling you out of the coffee shop like a petulant toddler. He doesn’t even give you a chance to catch another secret look at the object of your affections, making sure you’re back in your work game before you enter the building. Even if he doesn’t know it, Kim Namjoon’s always got your back. 

Or in today’s case, breathing down your back. 

Without your third editor and a hard deadline coming up by the end of the week, you and Namjoon are working in tandem throughout your 9-5 to complete drafts for Big Hit Publishings Arts & Media section. Both of you take turns to bring snacks and feed each other, feeling like reading zombies and slaves to your desk as you remind each other to breathe throughout the whole ordeal. 

In complete honesty you don’t totally mind. Namjoon is a great partner-in-crime, and you both love what you do and do a damn good job at it. You call it “Buzzfeed but with Benefits.” 

And at least for today, you could quell the feelings in your chest from last night and this morning. Sure, you’ve always been okay with the pining you’ve had for Jungkook. The feeling comes and goes whenever it pleases, and since yesterday you’ve been okay with just admiring from afar and being their third wheel. 

However, now the feelings are acutely comparable to a third-degree burn with the help of Jisoo playing with fire. 

With a quiet exhale, you concede in your gaming chair (because it’s just so damn comfy to keep in the office.) You’re an adult and not a petty child, and you will not let this piece of information derail you from your calm, stable lifestyle. 

But honestly? Fuck Jisoo. 

“Let’s go, buckaroo,” Namjoon logs off for you, the cinnamon-y smell of his shampoo effectively waking up your senses, “it’s already 5:30. And you said you’d stop by Vern’s to get his drafts.” 

“Right,” you blurt, mindlessly putting away your papers and snack wrappers in your bag. You can’t believe the whole day’s gone already. 

“Maybe you don’t even have to go to his apartment. Just text him or whatever.” 

“Sounds good, thanks Joonie.” 

“And y/n?” Namjoon gives you a look that causes you to force a terse smile, one you give one too many times to higher-ups at work. It isn’t to insult Namjoon by any means, but you guys are partners, the kind that tell way too much but hide just enough to remain close from afar. “Take it easy, will you?” 

“I will,” you concede, stretching your arms, “I’m def overdue for a massage.” 

“You don’t look sick,” you scoff, taking in the casual look your co-editor boasts as he leans casually against the doorway. 

Hansol Vernon Chwe is the epitome of fluffy, decked out in large electric blue sweats and his russet brown hair curling softly above his porcelain skin. Not only is he your co-editor, but also a friend from college. Not to the extent that you were with Jisoo and Jungkook, but you operated in the same publishing club and managed to get partnering internships that made you the co-workers you are today. You see a little bit of that collegiate youth in Vernon right now, as he looks well-rested and fresh faced despite the fact he probably didn’t apply moisturizer or drink enough water today.

“But you kinda do,” he tilts his head, noting the heels that adorn your feet, “you’re wearing your sexy shoes today, that means something’s going on.” 

“Gee, ever the ladies’ man,” you scoff, getting under his arm to invite yourself inside, “all I want is the completed interviews so we can pick out the best parts and draft them. Then I’ll be on my merry way.” 

“Oh c’mon, we’ve been talking nothing but work this whole damn month. What happened to college when we’d talk hours about House Hunters, the safeness of library sex, that little furry thing in Lincoln Hall’s urinal? That was prime conversation.” 

“Vern, I’m just here for the drafts,” you sit at his tiny kitchen table, glaring at his open laptop.  

“You could’ve just emailed me,” he teases, twisting around his chair so he can rest his arms against the back. “But since you’re here, that means you probably wanna spill some tea but you’re too upset to admit it.” 

“If I talk will you stop talking like that?” 

“Yes. Give me the juicy details. Need some juicy juice.” 

“Nevermind, get out of my apartment.” 

“Uh, this is my apartment.” 

“My point still stands,” you make another face at his outfit, “you look like the blueberry girl from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.”  

Vernon purses his lips, scooting his chair closer to yours. He’s unfazed by your insult, far used to your defenses being higher up than Fort Knox. He looks up at you with his pretty lashes and deceivingly sweet caramel eyes, leaning his head along the backrest. “C’mon, tell me what’s bothering you,” he says in a gentle tone, coaxing you open. 

He always knew how to do it for you, a little bit of sweet talking and that clear open gaze always reduced you to shreds in university. For him, it always took a good meal and some sci-fi movies to get him to talk. That must be why you’ve stayed friends for so long, you two knew how to connect. 

Finally you crack, kicking off your shoes and hoping the sharp end doesn’t land on his cat. You hear Luna meow in protest but she’s got great reflexes. Unbuttoning the first three buttons of your stuffy blazer, you air out your cleavage, not caring about Vernon’s gaze. He’s seen worse. 

“Remember Jeon Jungkook? Majored in graphic design.”

“Ah, yeah. The guy who like, lived at the gym and the dining hall? Haven’t seen him in a minute,” his eyes seem to glaze over the glory days, reminiscing in the simultaneous safetynet and stressor that made up your early twenties, “didn’t you guys hit it off real well? Like I remember you ditched like—three sci-fi nights to study with him. Who even studies at 1AM?” 

“Yeah, we did,” and you can’t help but frown at as you remember the 7-Eleven runs, the utter warmth you felt when he would wipe a stray rice grain off your cheek, and how happy you felt to laugh so much with him it hurt, “but uh. Jisoo got drunk last night, because they had a fight. And she sort of admitted to me that she sabotaged our relationship and told Jungkook I wasn’t interested in him so they could start dating. Two years later and here we are.” 

A pause. And then, “Want a beer?” 

Vernon doesn’t even wait for a response when he gets up, bare feet slapping against the tile as he prepares some drinks and snacks for you. 

“That’s pretty fucked up,” he practically sing-songs among the cacophony of popcorn pop-pop-popping in the microwave. The aroma of buttery kernels is all but a relief, reminding you of movie matinees, “and like, she knew you liked him! It was totally obvious, even if you didn’t spell it out for her.” 

“Yeah,” you practically gushed to Jisoo those past two months, every waking moment with heart-eyes over the talented graphic designer Jeon Jungkook. 

“I can’t believe Jisoo would keep that a secret from you for so long. Like, can you even trust her anymore?” 

“Don’t know, was she even my bestfriend or was I just a good roommate to her?” you ask. Vernon is holding two beers in one hand and a bag of popcorn by the tips of his fingers in the other, careful to not burn himself. Opening the beer for you, you thank him and take a long swig.

“Well, good thing you’re still not in love with him or whatever. That would really suck. Unless—”

The look on your face says it all. You’re practically snotting into your bottle, your face tucked into your chin as you fight hard to stop the tears you’ve been suppressing for the last two years. “Don’t give me your pity,” you garble, turning away from the sad look Vernon gives you as he wraps his arms around you. 

The tears are soft and gentle, flowing freely onto the cotton of Vernon’s arms as you let it out. 

“‘M’not,” he concedes, rubbing his chin into your neck. He really is a lot like Luna, just like his  cat ready to give you affection. “Let’s just, get some take-out and watch Hamilton or something.” 

He lets you wear his matching sweat suit, lime green, as you order Thai food and rap along to Hamilton’s sick beats. Vernon does a better job keeping the flow, but you’re having a good time being his hype man as he parades around the living room like it’s 1776. 

You go home that night around ten o’clock, feeling noticeably lighter and more relaxed. Be that it may you are still wearing the sweatpants and heels ensemble, you feel comforted. 

The apartment is quiet when you walk in, not a single light turned on. You get a slice of the city lights bleeding in from the organza curtains, which allow you to kick off your heels and hobble to where you think the kitchen counter is. 

Today is Jisoo’s day to cook dinner. You can tell she decided to cook today from the faint smell of Japanese curry and a small unwashed plate in the sink. Whenever it was someone’s turn, they usually left an extra bowl or serving in it for the other roommate when they got home. Unsurprisingly, you find no such thing on the counter or in the fridge. 

You’re not upset, but rather decided. If Jisoo is going to let your friendship fade off with no intention of redeeming herself, then you should give her the same amount of energy back. You realize now the apology she gave last night wasn’t for you, but empty words to make her feel better and mend whatever toxicity she’s created in her own relationships. People like Namjoon and Vernon reminded you that you didn’t need to try and earn other people’s friendships. 

It’s disappointing, but the feeling is all but too familiar. 

If you could describe Jisoo as anything, it would be the color pink. Blushing, beautiful, beguiling pink. The way she flushes when Jungkook does an uncalled for grandiose gesture of romance, or when she wears a hot magenta number when she’s hosting a fashion show. Jisoo is the personification of La vie en rose, unbothered and unabashed.  

But now all you see when you think of Jisoo? Nothing but red. 

With that, you go in your room and untack the polaroid of you and Jisoo at the carnival last month, putting it away in your junk drawer to be forgotten. 

“You’re running away.” 

“Am not.” 

“Are too,” that interjection comes from Vernon’s roommate, Jung Hoseok. He’s been watching you two bicker over work for the past hour while he plays GTA5, failing to get a good hard carry because you and Vernon are too busy discussing whatever finishing touches you need on your final draft. 

“No one asked for your opinion, Jung,” you throw over your shoulder. 

“I’m just saying,” Hoseok flicks his wrist and nabs a tank, “you never wanna go home, you eat all our food, and I found your pyjamas in my laundry basket.” 

“You said your basket was the blue one,” you hiss under your breath. 

“The navy blue one,” Vernon chirps unhelpfully, “not the electric blue one.” 

Hoseok hits “save” on his campaign, disconnecting from his PS4 and stretching his lean limbs. “I mean, we could use a third roommate,” Hoseok jokes, getting up from the couch and grabbing a handful of M&Ms from your bowl, “you do make a bomb mac n’cheese.” 

“Appreciated,” you relent when Hoseok presses a kiss to your cheek and tells Vernon he’ll be back late working, leaving you and Vernon alone in their shared apartment. When Hoseok is gone, you stare at the door, tilting your head, “y’know,” you remark, “Hoseok’s a cool guy, why did I never hang out with him in college?” 

“Because he was stoned the majority of senior year and you just didn’t vibe with that crowd.” 

“Oh, yeah.” 

“But, you’re trying to change the subject,” Vernon carefully untacks your hands from your keyboard, knowing that you two have already been done with this month's issue and you’re now just mindlessly re-reading emails. “You’ve been here since Thursday, and now it’s Saturday. And as much as Hoseok and I like having you around so you can wake me up before we go to work, it’d be nice to throw me a bone and let me in on what you’re thinking right now.” 

You frown, noting Vernon’s large hand covering your laptop closed. He isn’t going to remove his hand anytime soon unless you talk. “Jungkook’s helping Jisoo pack up her half of the apartment this weekend and I don’t want to be there,” you say, short and simple. 

“You miss her?” 

“Yeah,” you admit honestly. You hate this version of yourself, unable to even look at Jisoo nowadays despite the fact you’re under the same roof for the remainder of the month. It’s hard to believe that the roommate from six years ago finally got under your skin, cancelling out all the years of friendship because of one silly relationship, “sad she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.” 

“Did you talk about it?” 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you reply despondently, “if she cared at all she would’ve to apologize again by now.”

Vernon figures, and his neutral expression doesn’t change as he leads you to the couch, brushing away Hoseok’s things so you two can get comfy. You busy yourself with the remote, exiting the PS4 homepage to scroll Netflix. 

“And are you trying to get over him?” 

“I mean, yeah,” you have been, but it’s a little hard when you’ve been contentedly pining. It was easy to keep your feelings bottled up because you originally thought Jisoo and Jungkook were meant to be for each other for the past two years. Now you're still pining but ruefully bitter at Jisoo.

“It’s not fair, y’know. She broke girl code, bros before hoes. Or is it chicks before dicks?” Vernon shakes his head at his lame attempt to get you to smile, which works anyway because Vernon’s silly and his sense of humor always gets you a little loose. “It’s your house too, you shouldn’t feel like you don’t belong there.” 

“Well I was supposed to help her move out this weekend, and I’d prefer it if Jungkook didn’t know what was going on.” 

“What?” your friend furrows his thick brows together, tucking his hands under his knees as he leans into your stubborn expression. “You’re gonna let Jungkook go on with his life not knowing that his relationship is based on a lie. That’s not cool. Even if you’re into him, he’s still your friend.” 

Damn, when did Vernon get so good at giving advice? Truth is Vernon’s always been good at dishing advice, you’ve just been privy to what you wanted to reveal to him. The first year or so being together outside of college was always about work, saving each other’s asses to ensure you two got that promotion and aim higher and higher. Now that goal is out of the way, and what better way to reconnect over some shoddy romance straight out of a Degrassi special? 

“I know,” you hug your knees tight to your chest, “when I’m ready, okay?” 

“Okay,” he agrees, because he’s not a pusher, “do you know the best way to get over someone?” 

“What?” 

“The best way to get over someone, is to get under someone," he emphasizes that point with his hands, sliding one under the other with a wiggle of his thick brows.

You slap him on the shoulder, “Vern, you disgust me.” 

“But it works!” 

“I’m not going on Tinder to find a fuckbuddy.” 

“You don’t have to look on Tinder or Tumble.” 

“Bumble.” 

“Whatever,” and his eyes flicker to his lap, where his pale fingertips turn red as he grips the edge of a throw pillow. "If you really don't wanna find someone, I can help." 

Is Vernon offering himself up? He is offering to fuck your brains out in the hope that you could inevitably fuck out your interest in Jungkook? Your eyes flicker over to Vernon's form on the couch, who's tucked in the couch just as you are. 

It’s true that you find Vernon attractive, and to some extent he definitely finds you attractive as well otherwise he wouldn’t have suggested the idea. It’s just that in college you never viewed him in that kind of light, probably because you were always so caught up in Jungkook. But tonight you can’t seem to ignore the eagerness hidden in Vernon’s carmine gaze, and how shiny and touchable his chocolate locks look under the setting sun. 

“I don’t want our friendship to change,” you reply slowly, furrowing your brows. “I appreciate it, but I don’t know. It sounds like a temporary fix.” 

“Can’t knock it if you don’t try it,” and out of curiosity, you don’t shy away when Vernon leans over to you, squeezing himself between the couch so he can tuck you in his arms. “I want to help you, but only if you want to.” 

Maybe it’s the frustration you feel with Jisoo, Jungkook’s ignorance, or the fact that you haven’t felt physical pleasure in such a long time, but you soften into Vernon’s hold. He’s relaxed, nothing betraying him as he waits patiently for your answer. You’ve always admired how much he kept up his “cool as a cucumber” demeanor. He isn’t the type of guy to let life pass him by, but he’s the kind of person who walks along life, embracing the ups and downs like old friends. He’s the ocean waves that crest along the shore, pushing and pulling along without a care in the world. 

He’s the textbook opposite of Jeon Jungkook, which is why you give Vernon the okay to lean in and press his lips against yours. 

His kisses are soft, and he takes great care in making sure you’re comfortable with this new step in your relationship. It almost feels as if you’re cutting corners, and you can’t help but feel a little guilty that you revel in the way Vernon’s hands trail under your too-large t-shirt. 

The pleasure you’ve ached for is there, bubbling low in the pit of your belly. It’s hard to get you out of your mind however, because this man isn’t the one you love. His kisses hold no power, only brief reprieve. Your heart doesn’t palpitate and your palms don’t sweat, you’re just languid. 

You’re greedy and selfish, but you remind yourself that it’s okay to allow yourself of these freedoms, even for a little bit. As Vernon finds your sweet spot that has you rolling your hips against his, you find that temporary fix isn’t a bad start at all. 

When you trudge back to your apartment that night after much reluctance, your face is still flushed and you think you smell a little too much like Vernon’s cologne. But the fact that still stands is that you're satiated, and you feel a tiny percent closer to moving on. 

The television is glowing with a terrible reality TV show, angry brides upset over cake layers or whatever. Jungkook and Jisoo have fallen asleep on the couch, surrounded by half-empty boxes. Jungkook has his arm lazily over Jisoo, her petite body fitting perfectly between his chest and the crook of his neck. 

You scoff when you spy Jisoo's bedazzled manicure digging into Jungkook's bicep, as if someone's going to take him away if she doesn't hold tight.

With stiff muscles you spare one look at Jungkook, ignoring the pang in your chest as you weave between boxes to turn the TV off. Barely an iota of your feelings have dissipated since your previous tryst with Vernon not an hour ago. Looking at Jungkook brings it all back, unfortunately. You suppose the feelings will pass with time. The soft hum of the television ceases, and you’re bathed in a room that feels dark and empty, despite the apparent life in the room. 

There’s some bleary talk coming from the couch as you walk to your bedroom, and if Jungkook is sleepily mumbling your name in question, you pretend you don’t hear. 

“So, where’s y/n? I thought she was going to help us pack.” 

It’s an innocent enough question, as Jungkook scans the corner of the living room hallway that leads to the bedrooms. You haven’t come out yet. He knows that you love sleeping in on the weekends, but he hopes the smell of fresh food will coax you to the table. His pan is sizzling in protest, telling Jungkook to quit talking and flip the hashbrowns. He's fried up three, in the hopes you’d be up for some crispy potatoes. He knows how much you love potatoes, especially at 2AM when you’re craving fries and a McFlurry combo. 

Instead Jisoo mutters, “You toasted too much bread, you know I don’t eat bread like this,” she’s pulling slice by slice out of the toaster, until there’s a stack of six golden toasts in the middle of the kitchen table. 

A little part of him wishes to quell the precursor to the argument there. It would be so easy for Jungkook to say, “the extras are for me” because he’s trying to gain weight, and that would be that. 

Instead he continues with his unanswered question and replies honestly, “I made extra toast for y/n, babe. She was supposed to help us pack but I haven’t seen her all weekend.” But he’s pretty sure you came home last night, unless that was his imagination. 

Jisoo pulls a carafé of apple juice out of the fridge, pouring the amber liquid into two glass cups. “Ah, she said she had some last minute things to do for work. Y’know, Big Hit always wants a big hit.” 

He chuckles, tilting his head as Jisoo gives him a small smile from the kitchen table. Jisoo is always good at cheesy jokes. “She must love her job, huh.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Her articles are really good, too,” the air smells like butter and Italian seasoning, as he places one hash brown on Jisoo’s plate, and two on his. He knows you edit in the Arts & Media section, and loves how you make it a point to include video games and modern graphics when it’s deemed appropriate. “She did a piece on the evolution of RPG and I thought her commentary was really spot-on.” 

He brings breakfast over to the table, while Jisoo places two slices of toast on his plate, one buttered and one with strawberry preserves. Breakfast is a quiet, but peaceful affair. Jungkook takes note of how Jisoo takes extra long to complete her meal, her fork creating ribbons in her little blob of magenta jam. He allows himself to complete his first hashbrown and a slice of toast before asking the difficult question. 

“Are you and y/n okay?” and he also takes note when Jisoo’s ministrations on her jelly stop, as she looks up at him with her big brown eyes. 

“We’re fine,” she insists, “just normal roommate issues, I promise.” 

“Maybe I should text y/n,” Jungkook says, pulling out his phone. “Lemme help you fix this, wouldn’t want you and her in a bad place when you’re about to move out.” 

“Baby, why are you so concerned about y/n?” Jisoo croons while his thumb hovers over your contact, his screen showing a two-year old selfie you two took during a study session early on in your friendship. He can’t remember the last time you two took a picture together out of spite, one without Jisoo. Jisoo’s hand pulls him away from his phone, rubbing small circles between his palm. 

He wants to ask, why aren’t you? But he sees the terseness in Jisoo’s smile, as her eyes fix between the interlocked fingers. He has a feeling he’s hovering somewhere he isn’t allowed to be in. Maybe it really is roommate stuff and it’s none of his business, but he feels a little insulted being left out because you and Jungkook are just as much best friends as you were in college. 

Or are you? 

This question plagues him throughout the day, and when Jungkook packs enough boxes for the weekend and says he needs to go home, Jisoo for once doesn’t argue. Normally Jisoo would cling to him like a koala, murmur simultaneously adorable and dirty things in his ear and lead him to her bedroom to coop up for hours on end. But Jisoo says she’s tired and needs some alone time, which is also fine. 

He doesn’t feel like going home, and instead heads straight to the gym. A couple pumps wouldn’t hurt, and it would clear his head. It’s nearly five in the evening when his body is thrumming with the afterglow of his post-workout, and he decides to take a little cool down in the mall and treat himself to a smoothie. 

It must be kismet when he sees you coming out of the bookstore, looking a little winded but no less professional in your beige blazer set and rose gold iPad. Whenever he hung around your apartment with Jisoo and you’d come home from work, he’d make it a point to acknowledge your plethora of multicolored skirt-suits. He never needs to be professional in his place of work, and admires how much effort you put in. 

“Hey!” he jogs up to you, and he catches the way your shoulders jump at his voice. “We missed you today.”

Your smile curls into something dry, and you twist your spine like rusty hinges to face him. In turn, his smile dims a little, wondering if he’s doing something wrong. Maybe you’re tired? He catches the line of sweat that glistens your baby hairs, and how your hair is done up but has fallen a few centimeters with some pieces falling out. 

“Jungkook,” you exhale, “lifting boxes wasn’t enough of a workout?” 

“You know me,” he replies stiffly, hiking his backpack higher upon his shoulder. Why does this conversation feel so awkward? “So, finishing up work? Sucks you have to work on a Sunday.” 

“Ah, it wasn’t so bad,” you face relaxes a little as you explain your work, “it was children’s day at the bookstore and they were watching Disney movies. I’m writing a piece on how I believe Ratatouille is Pixar’s magnum opus. Interviewed some kids, I wanted an expert opinion.”  

“Ratatouille is the superior film,” he declares with a firm nod, “after all, anyone can cook.” He revels in the small smile he manages to retrieve from you, immediately understanding the inside joke. If he came out of the gym five minutes earlier, he probably would’ve been able to catch you in the bookstore. What a shame, he would’ve loved to see you play around with the kids. 

At the mention of food, the mall manages to silence itself enough for him to catch the grumbling coming from your stomach. He laughs when your cheeks heat. 

“I was on my way to get some smoothies,” he jabs a thumb in the direction of the food court, “wanna catch up and get a bite?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, I have a lot of work to edit,” disappointment pangs in his chest at your easy rejection, but he ignores it, “I kinda wanna save some money too, still not sure if I’m staying in the apartment after Jisoo moves.” 

He doesn’t know what compels him to take your shoulders and wheel you in the direction of the food court, much to your protest and whines. “C’mon, explain to me why Ratatouille is the magnum opus—I need to defend why The Incredibles is superior. I’ll treat you to dinner.” 

“What? I can pay for my own food—” 

“And I can’t treat my best friend to a nice meal once in a while?” 

That has you stopping in your tracks, and Jungkook nearly barrels his chest into your head if not for the grippy soles of his Adidas Ultraboosts. He can’t see your face, but his hands note how your muscles cord tightly between the cotton of your blazer. 

He doesn’t understand why you’re so tense. Was it because he called you his best friend? Well, you are? At one point he felt that way, early on in college. The position just stuck with you. And when Jisoo told him you weren’t interested, he was perfectly fine with the platonic relationship. It was nice to have someone to talk media and video games to, someone not as chaotic as Jimin and someone not as deterred as Yoongi. 

Although, maybe as of late he hasn’t been so much of a friend. It’s no one’s fault, he’s been caught up with work and Jisoo’s move, he hasn’t said so much as a “hey how are you” when you’re around. He can’t blame you. 

Suddenly his mind blanks, the mall fading away as he focuses on how small you look as your eyes dart between the parking lot and the food court. Jisoo and Jungkook have been so caught up on each other lately, that he fears you’re starting to separate yourself.

“Um, this place is good,” you tug him by the elbow and lead him to a fast food joint. 

When he picks up both your orders and comes over to your saved table, you’re talking animatedly on the phone. You’re laughing, looking at Jungkook as if he’s the one intruding and you’re muttering a hushed “sorry” as you continue the tail end of the conversation. 

“Yes, Joonie. Go with section two, I know my shit. I’m your Work Wife for a reason, Umji in PR could never compare,” you’re giggling like you’re five years younger, and Jungkook feels stuck in a timelapse. 

He watches you go, throwing around names and terms that he’s so lost on but so desperate to understand. He knows nothing about your life other than the one that’s tied with Jisoo, which is a damn shame. Since when did he inevitably downgrade you from “best friend” to “his girlfriend’s roommate?” 

“I’m sorry,” you turn your phone over and push it to the side, giving Jungkook a smile as well, albeit weaker, “let’s dig in!” 

To his relief the dinner goes as good as it should be. You have your tray practically overflowing at the seams, all on Jungkook’s dime. It has his heart swelling with pride, he hasn’t seen you eat in a long time. There’s fries spilling out from the corners, and two sandwiches because you couldn’t decide between a chicken sandwich and a burger. 

Food gets you amicable, and he doesn’t mind when he does most of the talking. You’re engrossed in his talk, lettuce hanging out of your mouth as you’re rapt with attention as he recalls a story that happened at work recently with Mingyu. You ask questions in all the right places and he sucks up all your attention like a happy pill, and it feels nice to be able to lead a conversation for once. 

“Jeez, I’m getting the burger sweats,” you giggle to yourself, and his smile brightens at your positive change in attitude. Food always helps. 

When you remove your thick high-collar blazer, that’s when he sees it. 

“Seeing someone?” he asks, eyes flickering curiously towards the violet bruises that bloom across your neck. 

“What–oh,” you have the audacity to look embarrassed, hands clutching your neck like a shield, “no, just a hookup.” 

A messy hookup, too. Unless you had a thing for showing off marks, which doesn’t seem to be the case. “Didn’t peg you for someone who hooks up,” he says more to himself than you, but you catch him on his impulse jab. 

Your eyes narrow and your defenses go up, “I’m trying to get over someone,” you snip back, busying your hands by crushing up your greasy sandwich wrappers. 

“Am I allowed to state my opinion?” 

“Since you asked so politely, no.” 

He sighs, “I just don’t think that’s the best way to get over someone,” heck, Jungkook doesn’t even know who exactly you’re trying to get over. He just knows that you’re far too smart and independent to let yourself resort to such matters. 

“It isn’t, but it’s really the best option as of now,” you reply curtly. 

And his gaze saddens as he sees you fold your blazer over your arm, indicating that your time is up. Jungkook is aware the comment he made is out of line, and it weakens him knowing that you don’t even want to pick a fight with him. He can’t even find it in himself to apologize properly. 

He doesn’t know if he’s more sad that you’re pining over someone unattainable or upset at himself for not knowing you’ve been harboring feelings for someone. If you really think hooking up is your only option, you must be really hung about whoever you’re into as of late. 

“If it’s worth anything,” Jungkook adds, wanting to leave on a high note, “fuck that guy. He clearly doesn’t deserve you.” 

A small, secret smile plays on your lips, “Yeah, I like to believe that.” 

“I’m anxious,” Namjoon’s mantra makes the whole energy in the room wobbly, paired with the fact the two of you are squished between cardboard boxes as Jungkook aimlessly moves things around like a Tetris screen. 

The only time you feel remotely comfortable basking in your home is when Jisoo is gone. Oh-so conveniently is the Big Hit building undergoing maintenance today, so you and Namjoon have decided to work from home in your apartment. Although you thought by now that Jisoo’s boxes would be long gone and tucked away in Jungkook’s place, instead you’re living in an episode of Ed, Edd and Eddy and the cardboard is practically wall-to-wall. You also thought by now that Jungkook would have no reason to show up unannounced anymore, but apparently that’s not the case. 

“I have, anxiety,” Namjoon adjusts his glasses for the nth time this afternoon, brain not fixed enough to focus on the screen of his chrome MacBook, “anxiety, anxiety. I can’t right now. I need my weighted blanket and a pillow.” 

“Namjoon, I can get both of those for you if we just send in this last spread,” you coo gently, as if placating a baby. You make brief eye contact with Jungkook from the other side of the room, his lips quirking in amusement as he stacks a box of clothes by the kitchen. 

“Do you feel my palms? My palms, they’re like a fucking fountain you need to feel them—” your Wusband approaches you like a zombie, leaning over you and tripping over his criss-crossed legs before he topples over you. 

“Blegh, get off of me you sweat giant!” you cry with a good-natured laugh, although the grip of Namjoon’s palms under your shoulders are damp and slimy, “Joon, I can’t get you your blanket if you’re crushing my boobs.” 

Namjoon finally relents, untacking himself to rest his chin on your glass coffee table. “Fine.” 

“Look over the last column and I’ll bring your blanket, okay?” 

Pushing yourself off the ground, you shuffle your way out of the living room through the maze of boxes and into the hallway. It feels like your apartment is less of an apartment and more of a storage space when you’re trapped in-between two lines of boxes, and Jungkook effectively blocking you from entering your room. He was just in the living room but now he’s come from the linen closet, standing between the entrance of your room. 

“Sorry,” he pops his head out from a smaller box, one filled with designer costume jewelry. 

“It’s fine,” you chirp, barely making eye contact as you shuffle over the boxes. 

Your toe drags over the lid of one of the open boxes in an attempt to move diagonally. You nearly crash your face into the hardwood if not for Jungkook’s arm stretching out to catch you. In seconds he manages to catch all your weight in one hand, pulling you to him with your hip pressed against his. Your breath traps itself in your neck. Your subconscious fears that if you speak now, you’ll babble about how attractive it is that he’s able to catch you as easily as grabbing a light sheet of paper. 

“Careful,” his voice rumbles in his throat as he regards you with a wan smile. 

Your “thanks” is barely uttered as you slip into your room, heaving your weighted blanket and a pillow in your arms to let Namjoon borrow. 

The burgundy quilted fabric is hunched over your shoulder, draped around your body so it’s easier for you to carry on your back. You try to eradicate the memory of Jungkook’s arms, lean and strong as he held you to him moments before.

Ugh, you thought messing around with Vernon would stop your silly pining. It seems that it’ll take more than a couple rounds to satiate your curiosity. For such a kind guy, Jungkook seems like a wolf in sheep’s clothing when it comes to the bedroom. 

You can imagine him being so kind in the beginning, coaxing you to wan and bend to his every wish and command. And then when you keen a little too hard at the attention, you bet a switch would flip and he’d grab you—

The blanket flops around your back, and you’re sorely reminded that you’re thirsting over a taken man, yet again.  

Jungkook makes it extremely difficult for him to be hateable. It’s by nature that he’s just so damn likeable. Heck, he’s pretty much packed seventy percent of the things Jisoo should be packing right now. 

Making sure not to trip again, on your feelings and your blanket, you successfully reach a tired Namjoon. You tuck your koala-shaped pillow under your co-editor’s arms, and drape the heavy blanket over him like a cape. He’s giving you a thumbs up and a toothless smile, the previous meltdown overcome as he focuses on finishing the last of today’s work. He’s slipped on some noise-cancelling earphones, presumably filled with generic coffee-house music or rain playlists. 

Wordlessly you go to your nook to prepare some tea. It’s getting late and a warm cup would distract you from the impending deadline. Despite the fact that you and Namjoon are 99% of the way done, his previous freak-out has you on live-wire and you could use a little caffeine. 

Placing three mugs on the counter you call, “Jungkook, tea?” 

“Yes please,” you stiffen when you feel Jungkook magically appear right behind you, his head peering over your shoulder, “with milk and honey.” 

Deciding to give Jungkook the beehive-shaped mug because it’s very on-brand for him, you begin to steep the leaves in your kettle while he spoons the honey. 

“So,” his words are slow as the drip of honey, the amber goo taking its time to descend into his mug as it falls from the dipper. “Is that the guy you’re trying to get over?” 

Jungkook lifts his brows towards Namjoon, who is softcore jamming to his white noise playlist. It’s cute as to how curious Jungkook is about Namjoon. While you try to keep your work life separate, there really isn’t much backstory to your personal life to warrant that kind of divide. 

“Namjoon,” you state aloud, watching Namjoon sing badly to himself, “why, are you gonna beat him up for me?” 

“I can take him,” you can practically hear Jungkook’s chest pop out. 

With a roll of your eyes, you reach to kill the heat off the tea kettle, “No need. He isn’t the guy I’m trying to get over.” 

“Oh, he’s your fuck buddy then?” 

“Shit!” being caught off guard, you grab at the handle of your kettle without a pot holder, burning your fingertips. In seconds Jungkook’s larger hand encases your own, pulling you over to the sink to soak your fingers in cool running water.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jungkook is chanting like a sinner at church, searching for any sign of pain in your visage, “I shouldn’t have asked while you’re working with a hot stove.” 

You suppress a sigh, relaxing your fingers as Jungkook soothes the burn with his gentle hold, “Shouldn’t have asked in the first place,” you mumble. 

“I know,” he replies, “guess I’m just feeling a little left out. We don’t talk like we used to. I guess I’m getting a little too nosy for my own good, aren’t I?” 

You don’t understand what’s going on with his incessant babbling as of late, but you chalk it up to work stress and Jisoo’s move. Having no answers to his honest reply, you gently untack your red palm from his grip, assuring him that you’re fine. 

Namjoon steps into your kitchenette, being surprisingly careful as he takes your potholder to pour himself a cup of tea. If the tea is oversteeped and bitter he doesn’t say anything, only leans against the counter as he regards you two with slow sips. “You alright?” 

“M’fine,” you reply stubbornly, avoiding Jungkook’s worried stare. 

Namjoon holds out his hand, “Hand.” 

“No—”

“Hand.” 

His deep voice coerces you, and you immediately slap the back of your palm onto Namjoon’s. Your partner brushes his golden hands over the tiny blister that’s forming over your fingertips. “Can’t have my Work Wife outta commission.” 

“Your Work Wife is fine,” you gripe back. 

Your co-worker’s eyes flicker over to Jungkook’s for a brief second, Jungkook regarding him in curiosity as he stares at your connected palms. “I have some aloe in my bag for sunburns,” Namjoon offers helpfully, ignoring the weird glances, “I’ll give it to you in a bit. Also, I’ve overcome my sudden bout of stress and I’m ready to email our progress to Victoria. We’re done for the day.” 

“Awesome, thanks Joonie,” you exhale, relaxing against the sink, “wanna go eat somewhere?” 

“There’s a niche place in Itaewon if you wanna check it out?” Namjoon offers.

Jungkook interjects, “Jisoo ordered pizza if you guys wanna share with us?” 

“Pizza also sounds good—” 

“We don’t wanna interrupt your alone time,” you gracefully cut in, stepping in front of Namjoon despite the fact that he’s easily towering over you. 

Jungkook snorts, “I’ll have enough alone time with her when she moves in, don’t worry. Besides, I ordered three pies because I wanted to try three different flavor combos. I need two additional judges.” 

“Thanks Jungkook but,” you stifle a cry when Namjoon jabs you in the back with his thumb. It’s pressing, digging into the small of your back as if he’s trying to telepathically tell you that you’re being rude, “but… I don’t know if I can eat three slices! Namjoon on the other hand, can probably eat enough to fairly judge.” 

“Great,” Jungkook’s smile is blinding, causing your grin to stiffen as he looks for his phone to shoot Jisoo a quick text that they’re having dinner for four. 

Once Jungkook’s out of earshot, Namjoon tugs you by the sleeve, “The hell was that?” he hisses in your ear, “you look like you’re about to shit and piss your pants at the same time.” 

“I just don’t feel comfortable eating with them,” you cross your arms in defiance. You think back to just a week ago where you and Jisoo reluctantly attempted to eat breakfast together one morning. You provided minimal small talk while Jisoo clinged to her phone, replying to you in non-committal clipped tones. 

“Do I want to know?”

“No.” 

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” you retort, “you got me into this mess, you’re gonna stay with me ‘till the end.”

“I don’t know what you want from me, woman,” Namjoon throws his arms out exasperatedly, oolong tea nearly sloshing onto his hand, “just suck it up or I revoke your bragging rights to that snag you got on our spread next Monday.” 

“Not my fault you couldn’t get Kim Taeyeon on the spread,” you smirk. 

“Well I didn’t so happen to stalk the Sephora she frequents for the past two weeks—” 

“I didn’t stalk her I just so happened to need a new Fenty Gloss Bomb every other day—”

“I’m home, Jungkookie!” 

Your face contorts, your playful energy melting to the hardwood as your previous banter with Namjoon evaporates into thin air. Work bags in one hand and three boxes of pizza balancing in the other, Jisoo kicks off her heels somewhere across the door and places the pizza on the dining table. 

Jungkook immediately appears by her side, and you look away and Jisoo plants a heavy kiss on his lips. She cracks open one eye as she notices you and Namjoon hanging by the kitchenette, “Oh,” she mumbles at her audience, “you’re here?” 

Yes, you bimbo. I’m here in my own apartment. 

“I guess you didn’t read my text that they’ll be joining us for dinner,” Jungkook cuts in good-naturedly, “we have way too much pizza anyway. Have a seat, guys.” 

Jungkook navigates the kitchen as easily as your own, and you slump in your chair while Namjoon exchanges pleasantries with Jisoo. She looks impeccable, hair in a tight chignon and a tight navy dress as she converses with your co-editor. 

“I’m starving,” Jungkook announces, making sure to place a slice on Jisoo’s plate. He shuffles through the other boxes, making brief eye contact with you when he decides to put a slice on yours as well, “you like these toppings, right?” 

You regard the greasy, hearty piece of cheese and bread with a curt nod. You feel Jisoo’s eyes laser on your skin, “Yeah, thanks Kook.” 

Namjoon, Jisoo and Jungkook mostly stir up the conversation, you opting to eat as slow as possible to avoid any conversation. It’s easy to blend back and let them take over, as Jisoo loves to talk about her fashion firm and Namjoon is a great listener. 

Jungkook and Namjoon make it a point to direct the conversation to you from time to time, and you let the ball leave your court as soon as it lands. You prefer to keep your responses short and simple, especially when Jisoo is so eager to talk about the new silk drapes she’s installing for Jungkook’s windows.

Your phone buzzes in your lap, and you discreetly look under the table to read the incoming text message. 

vernie bernie: would u like to do the devil’s dance tonight

vernie bernie: or a tickle to my pickle? 

vernie bernie: beatin ya bean? 

You: ohmyGOD 

vernie bernie: or y’know, u could just come ovr and chill. Hobi made some bomb tres leches

You: call. Ill come after dinner

“Are you okay, y/n?” your head bounces up to meet Jungkook’s gaze, “you’ve barely eaten and you haven’t talked much.” 

“Oh you know, she’s just stressed about the upcoming spread,” Namjoon steps in for you, and you send him a discrete, but grateful smile. He’s always impeccable at reading the room, “she’s just nervous about her interview with Kim Taeyeon, but I think you did her interview justice.” 

“No way, the singer Kim Taeyeon?” Jungkook gushes, regarding you with stars in his eyes, “your interviews are always so great, y/n. You ask really good questions. Like that one spread about  Lee Yonghwa’s art gallery? Really cool.” 

You notice the way Jisoo presses her lips together, a thin line as if she’s trying to seal away words that she’ll regret saying. She’s jealous, and you can’t help the blush of pride that fills your veins as you raise a secret brow at her. 

“Right, you got nothing to worry about,” Namjoon squeezes your shoulder encouragingly, as if you’d get his double-meaning. 

“Thanks,” you reply, pushing your plate away and standing up, “I’m actually gonna go head to Vernon’s for a bit, though. He wants to double check his work before we email Victoria.” 

It’s a bald-faced lie, Namjoon sent the files to Victoria right before dinner, but he isn’t going to argue. 

“Okay,” Namjoon thanks Jungkook and Jisoo for the meal, stacking his plate atop yours, “I’ll walk out with you.” 

“It’s only been twenty minutes, though,” you see the slight panic in Jungkook’s gaze as he watches you quickly clean up for you and Namjoon. You can’t quite pin why he’s so concerned, after all he has been acting strange as of late. 

“Yeah, I’m full,” you reply curtly, licking your lips and avoiding his gaze. You already know what he wants to say, that he’s been in your apartment all day and all he’s seen you eat is stale chips and tea, “but we can do this again.” But hopefully not. 

“If you’re coming home late again,” it’s the first time Jisoo has spoken to you directly. You tilt your head to her slowly, watching the plastic smile carefully carved onto her expression. You see the contrived care and concern between her brows, “please try to be quieter next time, the last time you came home late you woke Jungkookie up.” 

Snapping your gaze to Jungkook you plaster on a thick smile, “Sorry Jungkook—” 

“What? No, it’s fine!” he furrows his brows in confusion, finally able to detect the strange tension between the two housemates, “I barely heard you—” 

“Maybe I’ll just stay the night at Vernon’s,” your eyes trail over to the pajama set you immediately switched into when you got home today, “wouldn’t want to disturb you two.” 

“Good,” Jisoo’s tone is saccharine and clipped as she tacks on a, “have fun.” 

It’s laudable, how much Jisoo wants to make a fool out of you but you won’t have it. You revel in the perplexed expression as Jungkook’s gaze darts back and forth between the two of you, wanting to butt in but unsure of how to approach it. Not giving him the time to, you bid the couple a goodnight and make a fast getaway. Heck, you don’t even take your work stuff with you. 

Once you’re out the door, Namjoon wordlessly gives you a hug. You sigh gratefully into his embrace. 

The next time Jungkook sees you, he reads the room before anything. You and Jisoo’s apartment is scarily empty, almost clinical. He’s tried texting you a few times after his failed-not-failed attempt at catching up at the mall and his awkward conversation concerning Namjoon, but you always reply back with vague replies and an unpromised promise of meeting up sometime soon. 

It dulls him to think that you’ve given up on him as a friend. But can you blame him? He needs to keep an appropriate distance for Jisoo, after all, she doesn’t like it when he gets too close to other women unless it’s strictly professional. Usually Jisoo’s jealousy inevitably works itself out and Jungkook doesn’t pose any problems because he has very few girl friends, but for some reason your friendship with him specifically gets Jisoo stiff in the face. Is it because you and Jisoo are so close? Possibly. 

But it doesn’t mean you can’t join the same Valorant server with him at 2AM and accidentally bomb each other, or argue over the magnum opus of each film company. Is that not enough? 

Jisoo’s working overtime, and Jungkook suggested last night that he move the boxes to the front of the door for easy pick-up when the moving truck arrives. Jisoo promises to buy Thai food in return, and with a kiss emoji she leaves him to audit fabric budgets. 

As he glides down to Jisoo’s room he notes that the pictures along the wall have disappeared, and there’s double the amount of boxes in the hallway. It seems that you’re moving out too. To where, he doesn’t know but he hopes it isn’t too far. 

He chides Jisoo remotely when he sees that her room is completely intact, and he makes moves to pack up her things. 

That’s when he finds his letter. Not a love letter to Jisoo, but a love letter to you. Deep in the recesses of Jisoo’s junk drawer, is a faded lavender envelope with a pressed cream colored baby’s breath taped up in plastic. The glue is yellow and old, clearly served its purpose due to the fact that the letter is already opened and the contents rumpled. 

Hey Pretty Girl–

He immediately stuffs the letter back in its holder, stricken at his messy handwriting from two years ago. It feels like he found a time capsule, another version of Jungkook confessing to you. He used to call you Pretty Girl, not enough for you to catch on to his feelings, but enough for you to understand that he did find you attractive. It was early on in your friendship. 

When you first asked him to be study partners for some silly class that had nothing to do with each other’s majors, he gaped like a guppy and pointed to himself. That day he went to class in last night’s clothes and a nest of fluffy strands. “Me?” he felt like absolute trash, and you were probably desperate due to the fact you two were the only seniors in this class, “but you’re a pretty girl… and I’m pretty dumb when it comes to this subject.” 

But instead you scoffed and pulled him from his slumped figure, dragging him to the library, with a wink and a “you’re pretty, too.” Those words have burned in his brain since then, as he wasn’t used to getting such off-handed compliments, especially from intelligent girls that wanted more than one night. 

For whatever reason you continued seeing his dumb self, even after the semester ended and together registered for one more class for spring. 

Whenever you’d go out for ice cream you wouldn’t hesitate to stuff your face and add for extra Oreos and fries, you’d assure Jungkook you’re not normally this much of a slob. 

Jungkook would just smile and offer you a napkin and say, “You’re still a pretty girl.” 

He fell for you gracefully. There was no regret, no walk of shame, no cliché late night party where you or him could’ve instigated it into the physical. It was all by feel. 

However the two of you took your time with your relationship, languidly enjoying the hushed conversations in the library at 2AM, the late night McFlurry runs, the integration of each other’s friends like it was natural. Ergo the lavender love letter. It was a gentle declaration, one he felt pretty confident in. 

So color him stupid when you passed him in class with a happy wave, Jungkook dumbfounded at how well you handled his confession. You weren’t oblivious, you just never read it. 

But now he knows the declaration was for whatever reason, lost in transit. “I should’ve known,” he whispers in the air, the letter crumpling in his grip. Composing himself, he pinches his brows.  

There’s an electronic buzz and a sharp slam of the front door. Judging by the time, you’re home. 

You flop onto your mattress, folding an arm over your head to stop the sun from seeping to your eyes. Vernon’s exhausted you, and you barely got away before he could have any say in it. You need a little space, and some time to think. 

Just as you close the door to your bedroom, it swings open. 

You gape as Jungkook thrusts himself into your bedroom like a deer with horns, looking pale. You follow his gaze, darkened eyes that linger a little too long on your neck again, and you narrow your eyes at him to avert. He looks a little red in the cheeks despite his pallidness, looking like he just got out of bed with messy wavy locks and his signature sweats. Is Jungkook packing for Jisoo again? 

Acutely aware that you smell like sweat and sex, you clutch the blankets closer to your body. “Uh, rude.” 

He looks uncharastically frantic, waving a letter in his hand, “Did you ever read this?” 

“Read what?” you ask, hands reaching out for the envelope. 

“My confession letter,” he blurts, having no shame now that all the gears are running through his head. “I wrote you a letter asking you out, because you said you wanted to collect notes like in Letters to Juliet. But I just found it in Jisoo’s drawer, why would it be there?” 

And all the pent up frustration that never seemed to escape under Vernon’s sheets, the feelings that never seem to subside, all bubble back to the surface. Now that Jungkook knows, there’s no hiding. 

You’re in shock, hands reaching for the letter despite the burn that seeps through your fingertips. Jungkook’s shoulders slump when you do indeed look like it’s your first time seeing this, as if a missing puzzle piece in your timeline has finally been revealed.

“I, I didn’t think you’d write me a letter,” you take the lavender envelope, clutching the letter by your chest like it’s something precious, “that’s so sweet,” you say to yourself.  

It dawns on him, “Wait, you knew about this? I knew something weird was going on.” 

“Only recently,” you frown. 

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” he nearly shouts, causing you to flinch, “no wonder why you were being so weird all this time. How could you let me live the rest of my life knowing this? That my relationship is built on a lie? ” 

“I don’t know,” you suddenly feel very small in your mattress as Jungkook rounds up on you, pulling your desk chair closer to your bed, “because you love Jisoo, of course.” 

“Well obviously that’s not possible,” and while yes a two-year realtionship ending like this is going to hit him hard tonight, he’s focused on you and the fact that you failed to tell him, “somehow I’d find out. Why wait for me to find out on my own?” 

“Because I wanted to protect you!” 

“Protect me,” he scoffs, crossing his arms and sneering at you. It causes you to tense up, feeling the telltale signs of tears bubbling to the surface, “you don’t even want to be friends anymore, y/n. I’ve tried to catch up to you so many times, but you keep leaving me hanging. I know I’ve been a pretty bad friend and I get it if you just feel awkward that I liked you, then that’s a shitty reason.” 

“Have you ever considered that it’s too late to tell you?” you shoot back, sitting up straight, “yes, I admit I should’ve told you earlier and I’m sorry, but it was a lot for me to process to y’know? Jisoo and I haven’t talked properly in weeks!” 

“Oh, so you’ve stopped trying to be friends with Jisoo too, huh? Just like you’re trying to stop being friends with me.” 

“No,” you pinch your brows, “she stopped being friends with me! She doesn’t care about me because she has you,” conflict burns in Jungkook’s gaze, and you only serve to fuel the fire, “she’s tried so hard to not involve me in your relationship.” 

“Just tell me why you’ve really kept this secret instead of saying you want to protect me like a baby—” 

“It’s because I’m in love with you, idiot!” 

You blink and back up against the wall of your bedroom, as if you can’t believe that the words came out of your mouth. 

It’s quiet again. The sour look evaporates from Jungkook’s face as he watches you suppress your sobs on your mattress. The room seems devoid, sucked out of its color as you’ve cleaned up most of your things, the only thing left being some plain grey sheets and a pillow. 

Jungkook’s mind is absolutely reeling, playing back memories from a different point of view. 

“When Jisoo told me she sabotaged our relationship so she could date you, I was so upset and didn’t know what to think,” you manage to place the lavender note on your wooden desk, making sure no tears could mar it. “And I thought I could move on and eventually stay friends with the both of you, but the next day Jisoo put all her attention on you and completely ignored me or any attempt to salvage our friendship. She only told me to forgive herself,” you’re hugging yourself, wrapping the blankets around you like a weak embrace, “so I thought if I cut myself out of the picture and forced myself to move on like I should’ve, everything would’ve been okay.” 

“So, you would’ve rather kept all this pain to yourself?” 

“Yeah,” you give him a teary smile, “because I wanted you to be happy.” 

And with an equally sad smile he murmurs, “But I’m not happy.” 

 Your face falls, and you really look at Jungkook. He’s exhausted as well, slumped in his chair. Has he been trying to grapple along the threads of his relationships, while you’ve been trying to loosen them? 

“What a waste of two years,” he slumps in your chair, letting the pieces click into place, “a relationship built on fake love. I was really trying, y’know. I thought I was going crazy.” 

The three of you have unknowingly been playing a futile game of Cat’s Cradle, a game that no one wins. 

Jungkook looks wistfully out the window, noting the pleasant day that fails to present itself in your tiny room. It feels simultaneously satisfying and bitter when it falls into place, your thoughts finally fitting together for the first time in months. “We could’ve loved each other. For real,” he says, and you silently agree. 

You’re still crying, shaking like a leaf in autumn. Jungkook’s arms hover awkwardly over yours, his warmth palpable despite the fact that he hasn’t touched you yet. With a timid smile you allow consent, and you melt like putty in his arms. 

“Kookie, ‘m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you murmur into his shoulder, not caring if it hurts when you press your chin into his skin. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.” 

It’s been so long to have him close like this, the friend you’ve always wanted but never needed. Since college you’ve always imagined a life without him doing just fine, but that doesn’t mean you want to live without him, roommate’s boyfriend or not. 

“I’m sorry too,” he sighs back, “this sucks right now, but we’ll be alright.” 

The two of you sit in your room until it turns dark and the sky muddles into shades of twilight and egg yolk orange. There’s lulls in the conversation, the two of you filling in the gaps and making sense of the mumbo-jumbo that’s been going on in your consciousness up until this point. Your insantities turn sane, and by the time Jisoo’s making her way back inside with the smell of pad thai, Jungkook is ready. With a squeeze to each other and a press of your lips because you don’t know what to say, you tuck yourself in and pretend to fall asleep. 

“Messy, messy, messy,” Vernon sing-songs, knocking his heels against the wall. 

The both of you are sitting upside-down, butts attached to the wall connecting to his mattress and your feet hanging in the air. Your mint floral organza socks pad against his Pink Floyd poster, while his yellow tube socks are heeling against some old Polaroids from college. There’s no prospect of sex today, not when shit just hit the fan. 

Today you and Vernon are just two old friends and very close co-workers. 

“Tell me about it,” you bemoan, frowning at the beige wall, “this whole week’s just been a whole mess. It’s like, warm tuna salad.”

“Gross,” Vernon grimaces at the apt comparison, “so what happens now?” 

You sit up on your elbows, looking down at Vernon’s peaceful expression, “What do you mean?” 

“Like, are you gonna get together with him?”

You snort, flopping back down on his bed. The blankets fluff around you and you inhale the pine scented sheets. “After all that? No.” 

“But you still love him?” 

It must sound dumb to still love him after all this time. You wouldn’t be surprised if Vernon thought you’re silly to still hold a place in your heart for someone who has fifteen million things on their plate now. After all the physicality and the space Vernon gave you in his home, your feelings haven’t wavered. 

Your companion doesn’t bother waiting for your answer, hearing your answer somewhere in the air as he gets up and throws on his denim jacket. Rolling over your stomach you ask, “Where are you going?” 

“Some friends down in printing want to meet up for drinks,” Vernon messes up his hair, making the waves part in that little coiff that makes his jawline look sharp. “I heard Yerin really wanted me to come, so.” 

You can’t help the little middle school coo that comes from your lips, causing Vernon to giggle and throw a pillow at you. “Yerin’s cute!” you declare, remembering the petite girl in overalls who’s all about pops of yellow and violet, “you're into her?” 

“Nah,” Vernon holds up two hats in his hands, gesturing for you to pick one. “Just figured it was a push in the right direction.” 

Crawling out of his bed you stumble in your oversized t-shirt, tucking a finger under your chin as you decide between the emerald bucket hat and the red Ralph Lauren baseball cap. You pull out both hats from his hands and set it down on his vanity, opting to smooth out the flyaways and ringing your fingers through his soft curls. “And what direction would my free-flowing friend be going today?” you ask aloud, “you look better with your hair out,” you declare firmly, “makes you look like a fluffy CEO.” 

He laughs at your silly comparison, and he gently moves your hand away from his hair when you linger a little too close to him. His gaze is solemn as he regards you with a gentle smile, “Keep your distance, I’m tryna get over someone,” he says simply, and your arm falls limp at your sides. 

Your heart thuds in a different direction, your mouth parting but no words coming to the surface. When was the last time you asked about Vernon’s needs, wondered if he was doing alright, making sure you two were on the same page—

“You’re spiraling,” he reads you like a playbook, smoothing down your hair to press a kiss to the crown. Suddenly you feel guilty for not having sparks in your belly, shaming your conscience for not even considering his sacrifices in your self-absorption these past few weeks. “Like I said, I wanted to help you. Stop looking like a kicked puppy, it’s okay to be selfish.” 

With transparent tears the two of you pack up and head to your next destination. Hands ghosting between each other you make your way to the exit of Vernon’s apartment, him to meet up with his friends while you have to unpack your new apartment. With a hug you tell each other you’ll see them on Monday, and as easy as that you go your separate ways.

Hey Pretty Girl—

I kinda wanted to tell you this in person but I know how much you liked Mamma Mia and all those other movies that have grand gestures in writing so I thought hey, might as well shoot my shot on paper. 

Not gonna tell you all the details, because you deserve to hear it in-person. But mayhaps this letter has something to do with how much I like studying with you, watching movies with you, doing absolutely nothing with you and all of that in-between. 

There’s a gift card to our spot attached. Meet me at McDonalds @12 tonight, so I know it’s real 😎

Hopefully yours, Jungkook

P.S. if you haven’t noticed already, I sprayed a little cologne and stole Taehyung’s fancy paper from Muji. That’s how serious I am about you. 

“Joon, we live in a bonsai garden. We’re like giants in a forest.” 

“Can you—can you stop spitting at them? Let them breathe, dammit.” 

“Not my fault they’re so tiny! I literally have to zoom 200% just to get a good look at ‘em.” 

The two of you are huddled in what used to be Namjoon’s balcony, now a sunroom for his succulents and bonsais. Your heart feels pink and swollen with affection as you regard Namjoon with interest, absorbing every bit of information you can as he teaches you how to care for his plants. After all, you’re co-parenting now. 

Having your Wusband co-sign as your roommate for the next year is probably the best decision you have made this year. Everyday is like a breath of fresh air. With Seokjin gone for the year to tour his restaurant franchises, his room is yours for the taking. The two of you are easy going roommates, filling the apartment with color and vigour whether it be in the form of baking sweets or watching Netflix documentaries. 

The only drama you ever have is when you two are having a meltdown over the same work-related issue, as if you two somehow share the same brain cell. It’s significantly less stressful, no need for unnecessary anger when  you have someone as mediating as Namjoon.

After today’s plant lesson, you two go back to the living room to finish up your work for the evening. Another perk of living together is that you can go home at normal work times and continue where you left off with the comfort of your couch and eating a whole pizza pie with no shame. 

Namjoon’s phone pings with a new email from corporate. “We got the new concept for next month’s spread,” he gestures to you with a grandiose wave of his arm, “drumroll please.” 

He pulls up the newsletter from corporate with a flick of his thumb. Your company put out every month’s concept out in an Evite, like every month was a themed party. A stressful, month long work party. In seconds, the page loaded and you’re met with next month’s title bathed in electronic glitter. 

The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth

The two of you say silent, absorbing the concept like a cookie to milk. It’s a personal spread this month, a real treat for the team to show off their normal non-professional life. A spread that reveals the masters behind the ink and text. Last year’s personal spread was about the staff’s vacation destinations, but this year’s is much more intimate. You can imagine all the ideas that will be thrown around on Monday’s meeting: pinning down shared ideas like Throwback Thursdays, late night munchie runs, drunk stories, and all the crazy college nostalgia that you’ve been trying to avoid as of late. 

But now it’s presented to you in a gold chalice, and while you’re sick of the past you think it’s about time to face it. You’re excited to tackle the dark monster you’ve suppressed since Jungkook and Jisoo’s breakup. 

“Did I ever tell you I was president of my university’s Mock Trial?” 

“No, I always thought you’d be president of the Comparative Literature Club or whatever. But Mock Trial is equally as nerdy.” 

“I’ll have you know Mock Trial got me tons of action,” he winked, “made me very convincing.” 

“Gross,” you sneer, “so that’s what your spread will be about? How the co-editor of the Arts & Entertainment section managed to bag with his skills from Mock Trial?” 

“Nah, I went on a penniless journey with Jin during spring break. Six days around Malta.” 

“That does sound so you,” you sigh, fingers slipping between the cracked screen as you mull over the overly happy Evite, “sounds like a cool story.” 

“I know that look,” Namjoon quips, snatching his phone under his nose, “don’t overthink your spread just yet, it’s still the weekend. Now to more important things, what do you want from Taco Bell?”

And because you can’t refuse the combined efforts of nachos and Namjoon’s dimples, you relent for the night and tack the unmade idea to the next workday. 

Unfortunately the next workday is just as disheartening. Today’s work meeting is the antithesis of icing on the cake. While your college life isn’t anything remarkable, you didn’t think it was a painfully dull time. With every passing moment and every excited co-worker throwing memories back and forth like ping pong balls, the more you felt inferior by competing with their amazing memories. 

“Who can even afford Aruba at twenty-one,” you mutter under your breath, stalking back to your cubicle. 

Filling up a whole spread is daunting to you, the thought of Victoria popping her head in your cubicle to ask what you’ve got for the day is practically eating you from the inside out. Maybe your college life was in actuality, super boring? You have no crazy drug trips to tell, any vacations that gave you a life-changing perspective, or an epic love story. 

“What’cha got there, partner?” 

The third musketeer of your editing team’s caramel eyes peer into your cubicle, causing you to jump in your chair. Vernon wheels around, chair and all to push you into your already cramped space. His gold button up gleams in the sunlight, effectively blinding you. 

“If by something you mean nothing, then yeah I got nothing,” you frown, spinning around your chair. “What are you writing about?” 

A fond smile melts onto your friend’s face, and you can’t help returning a smile that mirrors his own. You two have fallen back into a good place, as far as you know. He’s still easy, simple, sweet Vernon. When you dropped some boxes off in coloring, you heard that Vernon and Yerin have recently started seeing each other. 

“Thought of the idea as soon as the Evite came out. It’s more of a photo spread, but I’m gonna write about my study abroad in NYU,” Vernon ticks a pencil on his forehead, “a self-identity piece talking about how I felt like, not-white around my family n’stuff. And then felt not-Asian at the same time, s’complicated but I think I can make it work.” 

“Deep,” you pat his shoulder caringly, knowing that Big Hit is a good outlet for these kinds of subjects, “alright City Slicker, since you’re so full of ideas then tell me what to write about.” 

Vernon sits up straight, regarding you with narrowed eyes, “Aren’t you gonna write about your little love triangle with Jisoo and Jungkook?” and it seems like he’s already storyboarded the idea in his head, gesturing to the air as if he’s writing down a timeline, “I can see the headline now: How to Steal a Heart,” he’s grinning, nodding fervently as you cross your arms in distaste. 

“Vern, are you suggesting that I exploit Jisoo and Jungkook’s personal lives?” while the journalism business didn’t pride itself on sincerity, it did feel wrong to drag in your personal life to that extent. 

“Babe, you don’t understand. You have the perfect slice of life story. Everyone’s writing about expensive vacations and that one time they got cross-faded and ended up in Busan,” he squeezes your hand, “but your story, it’s relatable. It’s romantic. It’s angsty. It has closure. No one’s gonna be able to relate to an impulse spending on daddy’s money to Aruba. But first loves? Unrequited romance and all that ish? Everyone can speak to that. And you’re a beautiful writer, they’ll eat up that story like honey.” 

“I don’t know, it still doesn’t feel right.” 

“Change up the names, twist the story,” he offers easily, knowing you’d put up a fight, “besides, it’s not like you’re planning on talking to Jisoo or Jungkook ever again,” you open your mouth to retort, but Vernon’s phone beeps to the Star Wars theme song and he’s flying out of his chair. “Shoot, gotta go help Joon upstairs. Just think about it, okay? Good luck!” and he’s kicking his chair out with a brown loafer, leaving you with breathing room in your cubicle. 

Five seconds later Vernon is jogging back, pointing a finger at you, “And if you do choose to write it, you have to add that Jisoo copped your McDonalds gift card. Like, who does that shit? Couldn’t she have just given it to you and say it was from her and not Jungkook? Seriously fucked up.” 

For the next ten or so minutes you mull. Out of all the memorable college events you’ve participated in, the largest one by far is your (now defunct and debatable) friendship with Jisoo, and your (un)requited love for Jungkook. Reluctantly, you must admit Vernon has a sharp idea, busting in like a hero and offering you the most writable piece on a silver platter. 

It doesn’t feel morally right just to start writing, because ultimately you can’t feel comfortable until you get the consent of Jungkook. While you don’t want to touch Jisoo with a ten-meter pole, you do want to start talking to Jungkook again now that the waters have calmed.

Your life has moved gracefully up until this point, and you’d like to start being friends with him again. Decision made, you pull out your phone and make an important call.

“Hey Yoongi,” you say nervously. Min Yoongi is Kim Namjoon’s equivalent, Jungkook’s Wusband and former upperclassmen in college. 

Said man hums noncommittally on the other line, “Whaddya want, it’s been awhile.” 

You stifle a giggle at his apathetic attitude, knowing he’s someone who wastes no time in getting straight to the point. “I just wanna make sure Jungkook’s address is still the same? I know it’s been a couple months, but I need to send him something and I wanna make sure it gets to him ASAP because—”

“Because last time something was sent, your crazy roommate intervened and Jungkook ended up in a two-year half-toxic relationship? Yeah, let’s make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

“Yoongi,” you say slowly, “where are you?” 

“Working in the studio,” he tuts, “Jungkook says hi, by the way.” 

Typical, cat’s out of the bag. With a roll of our eyes you reply, “Thanks for outing me, Yoongi. Talk to you later.” 

“And y/n? Jungkook says he’s waiting.” 

With a stupid smile slapped onto your face, you hang up the phone and pull out your stationary kit from under your desk. You pluck out a vermillion red envelope, a color so bold and begging to be seen, you know it can’t possibly get lost in transit. Feeling a little bit like a high schooler as you pull out a glitter jelly pen, you get to writing. 

Hey Pretty Boy...

Jungkook and Jisoo are no longer together, evidently. 

Their social media runs in different directions, with Jisoo sporting absolute elegance in her work at her family-owned boutique. Her posts are full of shiny outfits and soulless gazes, betraying any pinch of emotion she may have felt over these past few months. Her profile is wiped of any personal posts, all traces of you and Jungkook evaporated from her page. You must admit that she looks good, like a real fashion mogul, but only at the surface level. 

Conversely, Jungkook is thriving. It’s evident. Normally he isn’t the type of guy to post so frequently, his habits being often sporadic and limited to sweaty gym stories. But whenever you scroll, it’s pictures of him smiling. Big bunny teeth broken into a genuine, full-bellied laugh. Cute selfies of him and his co-workers. You notice two familiar co-workers in those posts, Irene and Seulgi, two beautiful women Jisoo always felt intimidated by whenever she ranted to you. You conclude positively that Jungkook doesn’t feel tethered and can hang out with all the friends he wants, female and male alike. Jungkook looks free, and you’re happy for him. 

It’s another Instagram-worthy moment tonight at McDonalds, where you and Jungkook proposed to meet each other at 12AM. 

This time, the letter makes it to its desired destination. You make sure of that because this time you hand-deliver it, slipping under his apartment door knowing he lives alone and no one would be able to access it except him. 

You’re parked in an obscure corner, but you can see that Jungkook is currently having a great time with his co-workers for an after work meal. Yoongi is unbothered on his phone, while Jimin and Seulgi are taking turns throwing fries into each other’s mouth. Jungkook is squished between them, scrunching his nose cutely as he tries not to get in the fray of their fry-war. 

Your phone pings, and you laugh at what pops up on the screen.

Yoongi: come inside, u loser. 

You: can’t ur friend group makes me nervous stop being so dang cute

You: dw i’ll wait, it’s only 11:50

Instead of replying, Yoongi puts his phone down and resumes eating. In turn you pick a playlist, deciding that “summer time high mix✨✨✨” is a theme you need to subscribe to for the rest of the weekend. 

Busying yourself by sending some texts to Namjoon and checking some emails, you relax in your seat as you let your brain turn to sludge for the weekend. You’re tired, eyes glazing over as you watch Yoongi elbow Jungkook harshly, forcing him to look out the foggy window. 

Jungkook’s eyes light up like it’s Christmas Eve, but instead of Christmas lights it's your car’s lowlights. The graphic designer  pays no mind to his friends as they wish him goodbye and goodluck, throwing on his jacket with a wave. 

The night air whizzes by, Jungkook’s floppy black strands bouncing with each step as he bounds to your car. He throws your door open, bringing in the cold air as he regards you as easily as an old friend would. 

“Hi,” he chirps, placing his tattooed palms by the air vent, “c’mon, let’s order.” 

“You know, you could’ve ordered inside and brought it in here.” 

“Yeah but then it would take longer to get to you,” the cheeky grin that Jungkook throws at you is unmistakable, “c’mon, get out the car and let’s switch.” 

“Huh?” 

“You look tired, you didn’t come back from the office again, did you?” 

“I did tonight,” you say, “I just really wanted to get the soft copy of the article done and—” 

“Out, out!” Jungkook clicks your seatbelt off and he’s coming out of the passenger side, opening your car and pulling you out by the hand, “c’mon, I’ll drive.” 

You shake your head, hiding your smile in your hand as you let Jungkook do what he wants. Normally you’d be insulted that anyone suggests they should drive your car but Jungkook would always drive you around, saying he loved long rides. Above all, if you could trust anyone to drive your car, Jungkook is at the top of the list. 

Buckling in, you bite the inside of your cheek as Jungkook easily pulls out of the parking spot one-handed. His jacket is pulled up to his elbows, exposing his veins as he expertly whirls the wheel in the direction of the drive-thru. Since college he’s always looked very attractive driving.  

Doesn’t mean you have to act like you’re still in college. You tamp those feelings down, knowing that your article probably has you feeling stuck in time. 

“—coming along?” 

“Wha?” 

“I said, how’s the spread coming along?” 

“It’s pretty much done, I think. I’ll send you the hard copy when it’s ready,” you tap your fingers against the dashboard, “but are you sure you’re okay with me writing it? I know I’m using a pseudonym and everything for you two but I still feel weird—” 

“It’s fine, I think it’s a good thing,” and you still squirm in your seat when he flashes you a genuine smile, “I mean, it kinda is a funny story and I think it’s good for both of us. Like closure, y’know? Moving on and—hi, can I get two Oreo McFlurrys and a large fry? Thanks!” he pulls out his wallet to scan the total on the e-reader.  “I mean, didn’t it feel good writing it?”

“Yeah,” you replied honestly, relaxing in your seat, “like, college was fun and all, but when Jisoo kinda ruined all that… after awhile I didn’t think it was ruined after all, y’know? I still made amazing friends and ended up where I wanted to be. I want to show the readers that shit happens, and that’s okay. And if things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.” 

The summer playlist hums in the background as Jungkook pulls up to the pick-up window. He thanks the worker and hands you the tray, and you make quick work to put the fries in the first cup holder for optimal sharing. He doesn’t park at McDonalds, but instead smoothly pulls out of the restaurant into the direction of his apartment. It isn’t a particularly long drive, but you figure it would be easier for Jungkook to go home first if you’re already parked at his complex. 

“What do you mean by that?” Jungkook parks in the driveway of his apartment, taking his McFlurry from your hands. 

“Mean by what?” 

“If things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.” 

“Well, we’re here now, right?” 

Jungkook pops his spoon in, swallowing vanilla and a silly smile through his coral pink lips, “We’re here now,” he repeats. 

The night air is cool and your conversation is warm. You promise Jungkook that you’ll send him the final copy of your spread as soon as it’s done, and you two eagerly deviate away from the past and focus on the present. 

You can’t help the eagerness that flows between you, as if you’ve never spent time apart like this and it’s only now that you’re reuniting. It must be absence that makes the heart grow fonder, because you swell with affection and you find Jungkook’s presence sweeter than any kind of ice cream. 

Are you dating now? Maybe. You and Jungkook are going on dates, everything without the title. McFlurry runs, marathons of HGTV’s Design on a Dime, having lunch at each other’s respective buildings with the Wusbands. Whether these dates are exclusive or not is unknown, but you figure the question will present yourself one way or another. 

You’re in a good place right now, potential relationship or not. After all, your priorities are simultaneously positive and in order: family, work, friends, and any potential romantic trysts are at the very bottom. You could kiss the cover of this month’s issue (and trust, you have kissed your own copy multiple times) if it is not for the fact that this specific issue is for Jungkook. 

So, romantic trysts and friends have a tendency to flip-flop on your priority list, but only because it’s Jungkook. 

Unsurprisingly, there’s no guilt knowing that you’re dating your former best friend's ex-boyfriend. 

After a much deserved early work day, Namjoon and the crew arrange a hearty happy-hour filled with good food and enough relaxation to last the weekend. With your combined successes, your team felt like they made the best issue yet. At the heart of it, The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth became a reckoning of each other’s young life. Despite the love and the growth that occurred from your college years up until this point, you’re glad to close that chapter and move forward. 

You did not tell Jungkook when the issue would come out, so you think it’ll be a fun surprise for him when he sees it magically show up at his apartment. Bending down you move to slip the issue under his door, one hand pushing it under while one hand braces against the frame to steady your balance. 

Just as the shiny cover glides under the door it swings open, and you fall flat on Jungkook’s feet. 

Being the little shit he is, he simply giggles at the blunder, looking at you with excited eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he says. 

“Creepy as hell, Jeon,” you mutter under your breath, brushing the dirt off your aqua pencil skirt. Looking at him from your spot on the floor and his large height, you grimace. “You look like a middle-aged serial killer looking outside your peephole.” 

“Now, we know that’s not true.” he finally offers his hand, easily pulling you up to your feet. You follow him into his kitchen, where he’s cutting up fresh fruit. He throws your issue on the counter, gentle enough so it doesn’t slide off the granite. He gestures to himself with both hands, “me, a dashingly handsome late twenty-something in Nike sweats who can bench-press two of you? Totally not a middle-aged serial killer.” 

“It’s in the eyes,” you chastise, “you look crazy.” 

“Maybe I’m just crazy excited to see you,” he says with a cheeky grin. 

You try your best not to choke on your spit at the cheeseball comment, throwing a blackberry in your mouth. Savoring the burst of tart flavor that fills your mouth, you wait for Jungkook to plate the fruit before meeting him on the couch. He’s holding a prettily arranged plate of berries, bananas, and mango with a huge dollop of whipped cream in the middle. In his other hand is Big Hit’s magazine. 

Throwing your blazer on the couch’s arm you don’t hesitate to cuddle up next to him, eagerly waiting for him to read your spread. 

The cover gazes back at the two of you like a reflection. The entirety of the staff is posed on the cover, made to look like a class photo. Some of you are holding balloons in your respective school colors, many of you grouping up with whoever happened to go to college together. You and Vernon are wearing matching university sweaters with silly grins on your faces. In the middle of the issue is the editor-in-chief, Victoria Song holding a placard that reads: Class of Youth. 

Jungkook spares you a glance from the corner of his eye, your head naturally tucked into his shoulder. With an exaggerated sigh, he fiddles through the glossy pages, “Hmm, which one should I read first?” 

“Of course you’ll read mine first,” you pout. 

“Ah, Namjoon’s looks really fun. Or Vernon’s? New York looks pretty cool,” he flips to a random page, “wait, Yerin’s spread is a Korean cookbook! I definitely want to make some tuna rice...”  

“Jungkook,” you whine, “read mine.” 

“I don’t know,” he taps his finger on his lip, “I mean, I pretty much know your spread because I’m already in it. It would be kind of redundant to read it.” 

“Kook, you’re being mean,” you glower, rubbing your cheek against his soft sweater. He’s just so damn comfy. 

“I’m kidding,” he tugs at your cheek, “where’s the table of contents, first page?”

“I’m on page eighty-three.” 

You speed up the process like an impatient child, leaning over to brush the pages to the desired spread. You even dog-earred it, a habit that drives Jungkook crazy as he immediately fiddles to iron out the crease. 

“Are you gonna read it to me too, mom?” he teases. 

“Okay fine! I’ll be quiet, but don’t take too long.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

Eyes fluttering, you let Jungkook take his time to absorb your piece. A roommate by any other (rude) name: the lost letter. A cheesy, gimmicky title that Victoria insisted upon that you had no choice but relent to. The rest of the spread thankfully has a very authentic edge to it, your story laced with photos of you and Jungkook, your internship with Vernon, and most importantly, a scan of the lavender letter that got left in the past. 

Jungkook’s not silent through his read-through, either. He laughs at all the right parts, fueling your ego as his smile grows at your favorite lines. While he doesn’t directly engage in conversation, his positive energy is enough for you to make you feel like you’ve done your job right. It’s one thing to write about unknown celebrities and unnamed artists, but for people like Jungkook, the validation is personal. 

“It’s beautiful,” Jungkook says when he’s read it thrice through, running his thumb over a picture of you. “Really organic. Really, real.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he chuckles, having run out of adverbs. “It’s funny, too. I liked your little internal monologue. I wish I knew how you felt back then.” 

“I wish you did, too.” 

You’re quietly munching on a strawberry, looking over a polaroid Jungkook took. It was  sometime in the beginning of senior year, where you’ve fallen asleep on his mattress, drool drying on your mouth. Normally you’d be opposed to having such unflattering, grainy pictures amongst your writing, but it encapsulates the youth you’ve tried so hard to chase away. 

“How do you feel?” Jungkook says, switching out the magazine for the plate of fruit, placing it on his side. 

“Feel great, actually,” you muse, smiling to yourself. By no means are you a hero writing some grand gesture in an entertainment magazine, but you feel like you’ve saved yourself. You’ve savored your youth in four thousand words, cutting out the poison and keeping the moment as sweet as it can be. 

“I’m proud of you,” he reaches to ruffle your hair, and you don’t even get mad when it tousles out of your pinned style. 

Reveling in the attention, you simply close your eyes and feed yourself a handful of blueberries. 

“Love that I make money, but I definitely miss college from time to time,” Jungkook stretches, jostling you out of your comfortable position. “Like I remember Taehyung and I would take turns bringing backpacks to the dining hall so we could stuff fruit in it for later.”

“Yeah, but as much as I loved college I wouldn’t go back,” you nod to yourself, “I’m happy where I am now.” 

“What about when we stayed up for midnight breakfast? The dining hall was filled to the brim with food. Remember when I tried to eat a whole stack of pancakes?” 

“Jungkook…” 

“Or when our classes got cancelled and we went to Lotte World? You ate way too much funnel cake and I had to carry you to the car!” 

“Jungkook—” 

“And that one time we snuck out to the music hall’s rooftop?” words gush out of Jungkook’s mouth like a waterfall, unable to relent, “that’s when I realized I liked you. I liked you so much, I tried to tell you that night but choked—”

“Jungkook!” and he immediately zips up, frowning. You straighten up, on your knees as you reach over to run your hands through his onyx tresses, moving the styled strands to the back of his pierced ears, “Jungkook,” you repeat softly, “I’ve heard all these stories, I was there for most of them. As much as I love the past… can we talk about something else?” you give him a small, tentative smile to show him you’re not mad, but a little uncomfortable at his reminiscing. 

He leans into your touch, pressing your palm against the soft swell of his warm cheek. “Okay,” he agrees, resting one hand on your thigh. 

You’re roped in his gaze, and you have to force yourself to breathe when Jungkook moves closer to you. He hooks a leg behind his back, and another across his lap. A cool breeze kisses your inner thighs when your skirt exposes your cotton underwear. You should be embarrassed but instead you’re fixated, unable to understand what he’s trying to accomplish. 

“Then I’m gonna talk about the future,” Jungkook traps you between the couch, his thumb running hot circles to where your skirt has hiked up. It exposes a slip of the thigh that Jungkook has seen a million times. He’s seen you walking around your apartment in a large shirt, ridden up to your boyshorts. It’s different now, you feel exposed and tingly, thrumming with excitement. “I like you, obviously anticipated news and old news. I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to go on dates with you, re-watch Avatar, grumble when I force you to come to the gym with me,” he bumps noses with you when you scrunch yours, “I wanna be with you. Heck, I’ve even cleared space in my spare room so you’d have closet space for all your fancy designer suits if you ever need it.”

“You cleared space?” you manage to choke out. Visions of a shared apartment roll through your brain. Cooking meals together, having two toothbrushes side by side, and waking up to his face. 

“Of course I did. Do you know how financially attractive you are?” he says lightheartedly, “you’re a sexy working woman and it’s crazy to imagine you’d want to settle for me and my little apartment. But I have to try now because if I don’t, it’ll be too late.” 

“That’s not true,” you retort, “you’re not someone I’d settle for. I want you, and no one else.” 

He chuckles, running a thumb over your cheek. “Then what are we waiting for? Your key’s hiding under the mat.” 

“Jungkook…” on the tip of your tongue lays the words you’re going too fast but it doesn’t make its way to the air. 

“But do you really think it’s too fast?” he reads your face clearly, “these feelings never went anywhere. They were locked away, sure. And I loved her,” he can’t even say the name, not when you’re warm and flush against him, “but I loved our friendship more.”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you breathe, letting the cogs in your brain roll until sparks develop. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he concedes, “I just wanted to let you know. Could’ve done the letter thing all over again and let the past repeat itself. I know Namjoon wouldn’t hide a love letter for two years, but if I left another damn letter he’d definitely make a copy and tease me about it.” 

You snort, pressing your forehead to his. You’re practically buried in the couch now, tingly and vibrating with happiness. “And I’m not going to leave you hanging. I do want to say something,” and he looks at you expectantly, licking the leftover berry juice on his lips, nearly making you miss your train of thought, “I like you too,” you say, the other L-word is also applicable, but you feel like that phrase is reserved for another time, “I want to show you off on work vacations, bring you along as my date and show them you’re my muse,” you confess, “I wanna play video games with you ‘till 2AM, and eat ice cream in the comfort of our apartment instead of our cars because we’re too stubborn to admit we don’t wanna go home without each other.” 

Jungkook absolutely preens at the affection, sending you a heart melting smile that has your stomach doing backflips.

“Jungkook, I want to fall in love with you again.” 

Your squeal of surprise is swallowed by Jungkook’s lips, tasting of mangoes and berries as strong hands cup your backside, easily lifting you onto his lap. You plop under his strong thighs, feeling them flex against yours. The both of you are pouring in this kiss, raining with promises and hopes for a future with each other. His taste is concentrated, and you can feel the devotion practically injected in his embrace. 

When he pulls away his lips are cherry-red and shiny, looking up at you through clear coffee eyes. “This isn’t a dream, right?” he looks at you up and down, unable to decipher fact from fiction, “because I distinctly remember two wet dreams that involve you looking like this.” 

Looking down, you heat at the disarray you’re in. Hair wild and parted in different wavelengths, tired of the day’s efforts. Your slightly sheer dress-shirt is rumpled, the lace collar opened with two popped buttons revealing your cleavage, and your skirt is stretched so tight that it’s ruched all the way up your thighs. Sprawled across Jungkook’s lap, you’re dangerously close to something long and hard. 

Emboldened, you clutch at Jungkook’s collar, pulling him closer. 

“Show me what happens in your dream,” you whisper into his ear, barely brushing your clothed core against his crotch, “maybe we can make it come true tonight.” 

You can’t see his face, but you feel something dark and sensual overtake him. The grip on your ass tightens, a delicious pain that has you pressing your breasts against him and nipping on his ear, your tongue darting sensually through the cold silver hoops that dart through his skin. 

Within seconds, he rips you away from his neck and demands, “Open.” 

Dazed, you barely get a centimeter of your mouth open when Jungkook presses something cold and sugary against your lips. Whipped cream. You manage to take a small bite of the tart strawberry that he holds by the viridian stem, rolling the flavor between your mouth as Jungkook paints the leftover whipped cream over your lips. Once he’s satisfied he then creates a white trail that leads to your cleavage. 

Better than any dream, his eyes drink you in like the last glass of water in a desert. Your lips are swollen and parted like a baby kitten, covered in the creamy confection. “So pretty,” he exhales, his hot tongue licking from your cleavage to your lips, swallowing the flavor of you and strawberry juice, “such a pretty girl you are, and all mine.” 

“Yours,” you submit easily, rolling your hips against his. 

At that moment you think you’re meant to fall in love this way. You can’t imagine the shy, fumbly Jungkook and your equally confused self waltzing around a relationship when you barely had your lives together. The two of you still had growing to do. The wait is certainly worth it, because as you feel his arms tighten around you, you’re sure this love will stay strong.

It’s difficult for you to find a rhythm at first, what with Jungkook’s strength and need to be satiated, both of you are sloppy but the friction is nothing less than delicious. Your finger reaches over to swipe at the leftover cream on the plate, and you press your finger to Jungkook’s mouth, and he immediately complies. A dollop of sweet cream leaks out of his lips and your panties dampen further when you feel his tongue lick you clean, imagaining how good it would feel if it was your pussy he was licking. 

Your mouth waters at the feeling of his dick lining up against your core, as sticky as the strawberry juice that clings to your bodies. 

“C-can I make a confession? I—oh, Jungkook…” your mind is all fuzzed up when he snaps his hips against yours, causing you to shamelessly bounce on his length. 

“Yeah?” 

“I… I like it when you use all your strength like that,” his hips slow as your words sink in, but you don’t mind as it gives you time to make a long drag along the entirety of his member. “Everytime you pull me up when I trip, or you come back from a workout, I like it when you carry me around like I weigh nothing.” 

“Do—do you think about it a lot?” he grunts, and you stifle a moan when he does a slow, hard drag against your wet folds. “Tell the truth.” 

“It’s, it’s embarrassing,” you whimper, unable to think straight with the amount of stimuli you’re receiving.  

“Please, baby.” 

“Yes mm—oh! I do,” you try to get the words out as quickly as you can. He stops moving, and you groan in frustration so you just lay it all out on the table. “I, I love it when you hold me in your strong arms. And, ah, uh w-henever you come back from the gym you just look so sexy fresh from the shower. Sometimes I think about how you’re too damn nice for your own good but I bet you’d be so rough in bed.” 

“Really?” and then he’s shoving you onto the couch, air brushing against your bare thighs as your back hits the beige throw pillows. He’s hovering, dark eyes starting from the tip of your toes to your damp lips. “You like it when I manhandle you? Throw you around like a little doll?” 

“All that strength, and for what?” you try to keep your snappy remarks in check, but it’s hard when he’s pressing his straining dick against your thigh, weeping and needy. 

“You’re not gonna be joking about my strength anytime soon, baby,” emblazoned, he easily throws your leg over his shoulder, pushing your panties to the side to let your wetness leak out and onto his fingers, “are you gonna complain or be a good girl?” 

“Yes, I’m ah—” you wince when he inserts a finger, “I’ll be good for you,” 

“My good girl,” he revels in the way you melt under his touch, your previous sarcasm quickly dissolving into a puddle. You always had an inkling that Jungkook would be a sneaky fox in bed, all that muscle hidden behind a kind smile and a penchant for tea with milk and honey. 

Jungkook slips in another finger, stretching you and preparing you for what’s to come. He’s scissoring you at a sensible pace that has you squirming and wanting more. To prevent you from shimmying off the couch he holds you down with his free hand, and you love the way he practically feeds you to the couch, hands dancing over your neck as he shoves you further into the furniture. 

“You look so gorgeous,” he says, causing you to moan and keen at his attention, “you’re such a strong, gorgeous woman. Having you sprawled out like this, ready to do whatever I want to you is so fucking hot.” 

“I’m—I’m only weak for you Jungkook,” you say honestly, tears pricking when he dips another finger. The stretch burns deliciously, and your folds eagerly swallow him up until you’re filled to the brim. Your fingers or toys cannot compare to flesh, and you sigh in relief when you see his inked fingers pick up the pace once more. 

“You’re damn right,” Jungkook husks, and with a grain of love he murmurs in your ear, “I’m only weak for you, too.” 

And that’s when he snaps, thumb rolling against your bud as he slams his other fingers against you, going at a brutal pace. You cry out, not caring whether his neighbors hear as he pulls you back and forth through pleasure and pain. 

“T-too much, Kookie,” you mewl, your hand warbling to find his, “I, ah, ‘m gonna cum!” 

“That’s the plan,” he only goes faster, stretching your band further and further before your desired high is reached. His hand trails up to force your chin straight, looking up at him, “let go for me, baby. Wanna feel your pussy clench around my fingers.” 

In seconds, you gush. It has you in a slight panic, drunk on endorphins as you try to lift your head up but Jungkook’s hand is firmly pressing you on your shoulder as he fingers you efficiently through your high, the wet squelching sounds only increasing with your cries. His lap is drenched in your arousal, along with his chin and lips glistening with your essence. 

He finally releases you when you’re practically shaking, his hands sticky and creamy. You moan when he shamelessly licks them within your view, making sure to wrap his tongue around his ink-stained digits. 

“I,” your mouth is dry when you feel the dampness that hits your bottom, “I’ve never, I don’t remember ever—” 

Your babbles are lost between your throat and Jungkook’s tongue, shoved deep into your mouth. Tasting your arousal has you practically vibrating in your place, as you two rut against each other like hungry bunnies. 

“God, you’re amazing,” he says between pecks, kissing away your face of any tears you may have pricked, “Amazing, adorable, absolutely beautifulIadoreyousoso—” 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you press your hips up, wiggling for more attention, “please fuck me, Jungkook.” 

You can’t help the witchy, satisfied smile when Jungkook’s eyes darken to a thick coal, “Anything for you,” he murmurs, swinging your legs between his arms as he lifts you like a feather. 

On his lap again, you soon accept that the way you two mesh like puzzle pieces is one of your favorite positions as it gives you both equal space to ravish each other. 

Just when your hand trails to the waistband of his boxer briefs and you’re rolling your thumb over its collected moisture, the moment is shattered when the doorbell rings. You jump in his arms, unprepared for your moment to be interrupted. 

He groans into the crown of your hair, and you soften in his relaxed hold, “I ordered us pizza,” he nearly forgot. 

Perking your head up to look at him you regard him innocently, as if you didn’t release a waterfall on his sweats two seconds ago. “You got us pizza?” 

“I knew you’d be coming over tonight,” he’s pouting into your neck, regretting ever having called the pizza guy if he knew this would happen, “Victoria posted the publish date on Twitter. I just didn’t think,” he gestures vaguely to the mess on his pants, “this would happen.”  

“Damn, and here I thought I was being sneaky,” you chuckle, flicking his ear playfully. 

He gives you an uncharacteristically subby whine, shamelessly upset he has to let you go so fast after he’s given you your first of many highs. Before he weakens further under your beauty, he unceremoniously shoves you off. “Sorry, pretty girl,” you melt at the easy way his pet name rolls off his lips, “can you wait in my room for a bit so I can pay the delivery guy? I don’t want them to see you like this.” 

“But I want to eat pizza,” you declare stubbornly, standing up to button your blouse and pull down your skirt. 

Before you could fasten one button or pull down one centimeter, his hand darts out to snatch your wrist away from your body. It doesn’t hurt much, but it causes your body to heat in more places than one. He’s sexy like this, demanding your attention. “No,” he rumbles definitively, “my room. Now.” 

“Why?” you throw your hands in the air, yelping when he slaps your ass. He makes sure to make it sting, cupping you fully. 

“Because,” he says firmly, “you don’t get to eat until I eat,” you whimper when his hand reaches to cup your sex, panties wet and cold without his warmth as he pushes you in the direction of his bedroom. 

Oh, you can’t wait for both of you to eat tonight. 

some time later.

“Ohmygod the view is beautiful!” Krystal, who works in advertisement, squeals. “No filter needed!” 

“Alright alright, make room Princess,” Namjoon teases. With a bump to Krystal’s tiny hips Namjoon shoves you two across the pavilion, putting his arm around you once he finds the perfect angle, “Umji, can you get a pic of me and my Work Wife? I want this on the Big Hit Instagram!” 

You hold your straw sunhat down from the salty wind, smiling beautifully as Umji takes multiple pictures of you and Namjoon from her Nikon. Another successful year under your notch, ending with a successful work retreat. 

“Namjoon, can I take a picture with my actual wife now?” 

“We’re not married, Jungkook,” you chastise, patting the chest of Namjoon’s floral printed Hawaiian shirt so he can switch. Instantly, Jungkook slides up next to you like a picture perfect stock model piece, and you wrap your arms around his trim waist, “we’re not even engaged.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he pouts, looking over the pavilion and adjusting the both of you so there’s a good amount of you and the resort in the background. The sun may be scathingly hot, but it looks beautiful perched over the crystal clear waters. “Namjoon, you got it easy,” Jungkook says when he hands him your phone, “every angle is our good angle, so you can’t mess it up.” 

Being the honest man he is, Namjoon knows better and doesn’t say anything to that. Instead he shoots down whatever pineapple-flavored concoction is offered to him on a silver platter, and starts shooting. 

“Is this swimsuit new?” Jungkook murmurs into your ear between shots, flicking your little red number by the strap connecting the back, “because I didn’t see this in the luggage.” 

You smile big, pearly whites as Namjoon demands to pop out your butt and work it, pressing your body closer to Jungkook’s. “Tiny enough so I could hide it in my purse,” you reply proudly, voice low for only each other’s ears, “why, surprised?” 

“Definitely not prepared,” his fingers dig deliciously in your bare flesh, “would Victoria fire you if she catches us doing it in the cabana?” 

Amused that your boyfriend now shares your combined awe and fear of your boss, you twist his nipple lightly. He yelps, and from Namjoon’s guaff he’s definitely got that on camera. “We didn’t come to Boracay to fuck in the cabana.” 

“Then the hotel room?” 

Namjoon hands you back your phone when he considers his job done, letting you and Jungkook have some alone time. You wave your phone in his face, trying to get him to focus on the task at hand. You wanted to post some cute pictures of you and your boyfriend, one to impress the family back home and the Big Hit interns back in Seoul who are absolutely pining for your position. 

“Jungkook, they have the water ski thing where you can flip in the water mid air! Doesn’t that sound fun? Or we can go scuba diving, have Filipino food, or get massages. LIterally, we’re on Big Hit’s dime, and the first thing you want to do is go back to the room?” 

“Yes,” he pouts petulantly, leaning into the hollow of your ear and whispering, “got a chub on.” 

Discreetly so, your hands brush against his navy trunks and you note yes, he’s half hard. “No!” you shake your head definitively, pushing him out of your arms. You’re not letting sex get in the way of your hard-earned vacation, you’re on company dime and you intend to milk every peso of it. “Namjoon, take him away!” 

You blow him a kiss and follow another group who’s decided to go eat, watching your boyfriend get dragged away by Namjoon’s long arms. Krystal, who’s been mildly watching the whole ordeal in-between taking selfies, looks at you in awe, “You got it good, bosslady,” she says, and you happily link arms with her in the direction of the restaurants. 

You and Jungkook definitely have it good. You don’t see him until dinnertime, looking utterly relaxed as he sips on a mango-muddled concoction. He must’ve gotten a couples massage with Namjoon, cute. Splitting up was definitely a good idea, by the time your meal arrives the two of you are practically leaning against each other, telling each other what events you need to do tomorrow and events you think will be fun to do together. 

“Joon,” Jungkook is throwing an arm over your Wusband’s shoulder, mildly tipsy. The image is adorable, as Jungkook long ago previously confessed that he felt a little jealous of Namjoon’s work relationship with you before you were dating. Now, it feels like they’re best friends and you’re third-wheeling. “What do you think about having halo-halo tomorrow? It’s like bingsu but with a bunch of other good stuffs. There’s red bean, mango, ube, ice cream…” 

Just as Jungkook begins his tirade of dessert ingredients, you pull up your phone to check on your social media. You smile back at your profile, seeing your latest Instagram post at the very top of the feed. Not to flex, but the two of you look pretty smokin’ since you’ve been keeping up with Jungkook’s insistence to join him at the gym. Jungkook and you are leaning against the pristine veranda, overlooking the clear blue water and a cloudless sky. The smiles you two sport are genuine and utterly in love. 

You scroll down the comments, most of them filled with sweet messages but one of them has you doing a double take. 

@sooyaaa__: 😒😒😒 knew something was goin on behind my back… good riddance

The smell of Jungkook’s detergent overtakes your nostrils, and you turn to him. He’s stopped talking, now immersed in whatever’s going on in your phone. 

“The nerve of her,” Jungkook scrunches his nose, disgusted at her latest comment. “As if anyone would believe her.” 

“Yeah,” you echo, “I feel bad for her, though. She’s probably lonely.” 

“Her loss, she put this upon herself. Not us.” 

You pout, “I know, but she was my friend at one point.” 

He frowns, putting an arm behind your backrest. It would be easy for him to say yeah, and she was my girlfriend and one-up you, leaving it at that. But now he knows better, and that friendship is a much better value than an ill-fated relationship. “Sorry baby,” it’s not his fault, but he sees your disappointment in putting out hope for an old friend. He gives you a little smooch on your temple, “do you miss her?” 

“The old her, yeah,” you sigh, clicking on her profile, “but now? I can do without her negativity.” 

“Okay,” he takes your phone from your hand, “have you ever blocked a person before?”

“No.”

“Well, today’s the day,” he says it so coolly, you barely have time to think when he clicks the ‘block’ button on Jisoo’s profile, then clicking off his phone to put in his pocket. “No more phone for today,” he proceeds to take your plate that was recently served, taking the time to cut your large vegetables into smaller portions. “Like you said, we shouldn’t waste your vacation time.” 

Your heart swells with butterflies for Jeon Jungkook, who’s meticulously cutting your food and telling you to relax and stop dwelling on the past. He’s right, if Jisoo’s not going to stick around for the future and continue to cause negativity in your life, why not keep the positives in the past while it lasted? 

“You know I love you, right?” 

He ceases cutting, and looks at you to pop a sweet potato in his mouth. “Love me enough to do it in the cabana?” 

He’s still on that? “Jungkook,” you warn, pretending to get up, “forget I said anything. I’m gonna go karaoke with Umji.” 

“Kiddingggg,” he whines, pulling you back down with an outstretched hand, “you know I love you too.” 

“You’re terrible.” 

“Only this way because I’d know you’d totally be into cabana sex if we were vacationing by ourselves.” 

“Yes, but you’re still terrible,” you giggle when Jungkook steals a kiss, just as easy as he’s stolen your heart.  

[shuadotcom]

(Un)welcomed Addition | JJK

➞ Summary: After a drunken one night stand with your neighbor, you have your reasons for wanting to forget it ever happened and never talk to him again. Unfortunately, Jungkook wins the award for the world’s worst neighbor so his 3 am wakeup calls and mail stealing have you banging at his door on an almost weekly basis. You just want to make it to the end of your lease so you can leave all the traces of the fuckboy next door behind...unless your feelings get in the way of course. ➞ Pairing: Jungkook x Female!Reader ➞ Genre: Fluff, slight angst, neighbors to lovers, fuckboy au ➞ Warnings: Just cursing and some poor attempts at humor ➞ Rating: PG15 ➞ Word Count: 9k ➞ A/N: Written for @goldenclosetnetwork​​’s Jungkook Birthday Project✨ This fic was definitely a labor of love. To date, it’s the longest one-shot I’ve written and I’ve been working on it since mid-August, but it’s finally here!

➞ We must appreciate this absolutely amazing banner made by the talented @dee-ehn​​ from BHQ’s Banner Request Board!💛 ➞ Huge, giant thank you too to my lovely beta reader @nightshadevinter​​!!🧡

On the laundry list of things you did not have time nor patience for, your next-door neighbor Jungkook was number one on that list.

Your mutual friend Seokjin had been the one that introduced you two. You made the mistake of telling him about the vacant apartment next to you and before you knew it, Jungkook was moving in. You would chat and joke with him in the hall here and there and eventually, you started to develop a crush on him. He threw a housewarming party a few nights after moving in and after 5 Jell-O shots and 3 rum and cokes, you fucked your new neighbor on his brand new mattress.

Not in the mood to do the walk of shame, you snuck out the next morning and decided to talk to him about it later and see if he wanted to go out. You quickly learned that he was just another college fuckboy. He greeted you in the hallway, thanked you for coming to his party, and asked you to stop by again and that was that. After that night, you made sure to make your socialization with him extremely limited and for almost half a year, he seemed to make it his mission that entire time to piss you off.

On an almost weekly basis, he was waking you up at 3 in the morning listening to loud music or because he was having equally as loud sex. His friends (Seokjin included) were no better. He would have the six of them over constantly and you could hear them through your thin apartment walls yelling and laughing too loudly. You always threatened to call the landlord while banging on his walls or front door to keep it down, but never actually went through with your threats.

The most infuriating thing about him was the fact that when his friends and other people that knew him weren’t around, he behaved like a normal neighbor. He always greeted you cordially and held open doors for you, but when his friends were present, it was obvious he was showing off for them, constantly making dirty jokes and flirting way too hard. He gave you whiplash nearly every time you interacted with him and he never brought up the night you spent together, which both irked you and hurt your feelings. You believed you were at least decent enough in bed not to have a guy pretend you never slept together.

As if the universe was conspiring against you, today - of all days - the long-awaited package you had been tracking was missing. Not only had the project you'd been working for two weeks on overtime get overshadowed by the new guy at the office, but you'd also spilled your afternoon iced coffee all over your computer, the machine shutting down before you got to save the document you had been working on all day.

The many times where your mail would go missing, it would usually end up with Jungkook. You’d lost count as to how many times UPS or FedEx got your apartments confused and you’d have something for him in front of your door and vice versa. Before dragging yourself next door, you decided to drop your purse off at home first. Upon entering your apartment, you immediately hear the soft jingle of your cat’s bell and crouch down to scratch the grey tabby’s chin.

“I missed you too, Duck,” you coo at the cat. Duck has been your best friend since she was a kitten and has been with you since you moved out of your mom’s house 7 years ago. You had had plenty of ups and downs with various friends and relationships, but through it all, Duck was by your side, offering you comforting purrs and loving nips on your fingers. “I’ll be right back, sweet girl, then I’ll get your dinner.” You place a kiss on her forehead, her large yellow eyes watching you go.

Stepping in front of Jungkook’s door, you hear the loud music and yelling men which sours your bad mood even more. Taking a deep breath you all but pound on the door. The music lowers to a reasonable volume and the door swings open. Jungkook isn’t on the other side, instead one of his friends stands there, blinding you with his megawatt smile.

“If it isn’t my favorite girl,” Jimin says in what he probably assumes to be a sensual voice. Jungkook and all of his friends thought it was fun to flirt with you when you ran into them, but Jimin was probably the most insistent.

“Don’t start, Jimin. Where’s Jungkook?”

“Noona, you seem a little tense. Is there something I can help you with?” He stretches his arms up, causing his white t-shirt to rise and a sliver of skin to peek out. You roll your eyes at how shameless he is.

“You can help me by telling me where the owner of this apartment is. You know the one whose name is actually on the lease?”

“Did I hear a beautiful woman say my name?” Jungkook’s voice comes from behind Jimin. He pushes Jimin out of the way to reveal himself in all his shirtless glory. His buff, tattooed arm rests against the doorframe. As insufferable as he could be, you weren’t an idiot; Jungkook was fine. All muscles and honeyed skin and dark, shaggy hair. He and all of his friends were some of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen, but they were clearly fuckboys and you didn’t have time for that kind of drama. “What’s up, Noona?” He asks, giving you an annoying, bunny-toothed smile.

You refuse to let him break you that easily, squaring your shoulders and deepening the frown on your face. “The Amazon website said I had a package. It wasn’t in a parcel locker and it wasn’t on my doorstep which means, as usual, it was probably delivered to you.”

He taps his finger against his chin, pretending to think. “Ah, that’s right! They put it in front of my door earlier. I knew you were at work so I figured I’d hold onto it for you. I’ll grab it for you.” He winks at you and disappears into his apartment.

His front door is open enough that you can see into his apartment. The rest of his friends are sitting on his black leather couch, all turned to look at you. Two that you recognize as Hoseok and Taehyung send you various air kisses and smiles. And if looks could kill, they would be struck down where they sat with the look you give them.

Jungkook is back in front of you before you can say any of the snarky things you’re thinking with both of his hands behind his back. “Word of advice for you, Noona. If you’re going to order sex toys online, you should probably make sure they put it in a box that doesn’t tell everyone what it is.” He reveals your brand new, packaged Rabbit vibrator that is indeed, just in the original product box with an Amazon shipping label on it.

You snatch the box from him, feeling your face burning up. You make a mental note to leave a scathing review on the seller’s Amazon page and stomp to your apartment door. Before you open the door, Jungkook calls your name. “What?” You hiss.

“If you need some help, you know you could always ask me. The real thing is much better than some toy.” You hear his friends behind him, whistling and cheering. The cocky smile he flashes you enrages you enough to almost smack it off his face.

You flip him off and hurry inside, not caring how loud you slam your front door behind you.  You want your anger to come across as clear as possible. You may have made the mistake of being his one-night stand once before, but you weren’t going to let that happen again.

Duck is waiting by the door when you enter your home again and follows you to your bedroom. As far as you’re concerned your evening has been ruined and all you want now is sleep.

You don’t see Jungkook until three days after the vibrator incident. You’re returning home Saturday morning from grocery shopping, trying to balance two arms full of grocery bags up three flights of stairs. It’s the middle of summer so your sundress is sticking to every crevice of your body. Why do you live on the third floor of all places?

You only make it halfway up before you need to take a breather. Jungkook comes jogging up the stairs behind you, stopping when he sees you slumped over the railing.

“Here, let me get those,” he says, reaching for the bags. You try to protest, but he doesn’t listen. You watch Jungkook effortlessly carry all of your grocery bags in one hand. Following behind him you can’t help but notice the muscles flexing in his calves and shoulders as he ascends the stairs and adjusts your bags. He’s in basketball shorts and a muscle tank and you wonder if he just came from working out. Before your mind starts to wander, you pinch yourself to stop as you reach your floor.

Jungkook waits for you to unlock the door and places the bags on the floor over your threshold. “All set,” he flashes you a large smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Thanks,” you mumble. You move to go back into your apartment, but Jungkook stops you with a light touch to your elbow.

“I just wanted to uh, apologize for the thing with your mail. I just wanted to hold onto it for you while you were at work and figured you didn’t want it out on your doormat for the whole floor to see. I was just trying to help is all.” You see the pink dusting his cheeks as he speaks and his hand scratches the back of his neck nervously.

He looks almost cute, but you weren’t about to say that to him. “Yeah, thanks, Jungkook.” You give him a genuine smile and slip into your apartment before he can get out the next thing you see him about to say.

As usual, he went from being a douchebag a few days ago when all of his friends were watching to being bashful and shy when it’s just the two of you. You had dealt with your fair share of guys like him in your high school and early college days and you didn’t care to do it again.

You decide to stop thinking about Jungkook and enjoy your weekend. You desperately need the relaxation after the week you’ve had. You busy yourself by putting your groceries away and doing a bit of cleaning. With work being so miserable, you felt yourself start to let everything get to you and neglected to keep your apartment in order. It was your safe haven; your space and you needed to do better.

To also be better for yourself, you decide to end your morning chores with a warm bath and a drink. It was Saturday and you had nowhere to be for two days so why not treat yourself.

After pouring your drink (Sprite and Malibu because you were most definitely a rum girl), and hitting play on your chill r&b playlist, you relax into the tub, letting the warm water soak your skin. Even Duck came into the bathroom to join you, leaning against the wall nearest to the tub to clean her arms. You close your eyes and start to drift off, a nap on the horizon.

“Jungkook, harder please!”

You flail your arm at the shrill voice coming from the other side of your wall, nearly knocking your drink off of the side of the tub. Drying your hand on the closest towel to you, you reach for your phone to check the time. It was nearly two in the afternoon and he was literally railing a girl loud enough for the entire floor to hear; and in his bathroom no less, where the acoustics were the loudest.

Grumbling to yourself, you turn your music up louder, trying to use TLC to drown out the sounds coming from next door. You sink into the tub, the water hitting your chin. If you hum along loud enough, then maybe you’ll fall asleep again.

“Yes, fuck me! I’m your little whore!”

“Oh, come on!” you yell, hoping your outburst could be heard on the other side of the wall. It wasn’t, since you could still hear the whines of whatever poor girl had settled for Jungkook. You grumble to yourself and pull the stopper out from your bath. You dry off in record time and cinch the towel tight around you as you march out of your apartment and to Jungkook’s door.

It took a couple of hard bangs before he was opening the door in nothing but a pair of boxers. He had no shame, that much had been made clear.

“Oh hey, Noona. To what do I owe this wonderful pleasure?” he asks, his eyes raking over your body wrapped in your plush pink towel.

“Jungkook, it is a Saturday afternoon and people are trying to have a relaxing day.” You hold onto your towel tighter, momentarily wishing you had thrown on actual clothes.

“Yeah, so am I,” he smirks, gesturing behind him with a jerk of his head. You see a brunette girl poke her head out from his bathroom looking annoyed that you interrupted them.

“Well keep it down. No one wants to listen to you fuck all day.”

“If you don’t want to listen to it, you could always come in and join us.” He has the audacity to step aside and make a gesture for you to go in.

You stare at him incredulously. “Are you out of your mind? I’m not having a goddamn threesome with you!”

He shrugs. “If you wanna come back later, we could always just have some one-on-one time. You know I’ve always wanted to be alone with you, Noona.” Typically, Jungkook’s comments got under your skin enough to embarrass or frustrate you, but something about that comment has you clenching your fists. He was really going to stand here and pretend like you hadn’t slept together before. You felt your blood boiling as you stare at the stupid smile on his face.

“Jungkook, I’m not going to ask you again. Keep the noise down or I will report you to the landlord.” Whether it’s your tone of voice or stern expression, you see Jungkook’s infamous fuckboy facade slip.

“Noona,” he says in a soft voice only you can hear, “Are you okay? I’m sorry.”

Is he sorry for being an asshole in front of his latest conquest or for denying that you had sex? You don’t know and don’t really care and just want to be back in your apartment. “Whatever, Jungkook.” You walk away and go back inside while he stands there looking lost in thought.

You had long since come to terms with the fact that even though Jungkook was an ass most of the time and got on your nerves to no end, you still harbored your small crush on him. The times that it was just you two in the hallway or the lobby of the apartment, you could see the type of guy he was deep down when he wasn’t trying to keep up this front around others. He could be sweet, considerate, and chivalrous if he stopped caring about what other people thought of him and his reputation. At the end of the day, he was a grown man and it wasn’t your job to give him a life lesson.

Another few days went by without you seeing or hearing much of Jungkook, which was odd to you given how much of a nuisance he was. It’s during the middle of the workweek when you’re returning home that you see a note taped to your door. You eye it suspiciously before grabbing it and going into your apartment to read it.

Noona,

I want to apologize for how much of a shitty neighbor I’ve been. If you’ll let me make it up to you, I’d like to take you to dinner this Saturday night. I made reservations for us at the new Italian restaurant around the corner. I overheard you on the phone one day in the hall telling a friend you wanted to go, so I wanted to treat you and make up for how terrible I’ve been. If you don’t want to, I understand, but I hope you’ll meet me there at 6. If not, you can text me and tell me to fuck off.

- Jungkook 000-xxx-xxxx

You re-read the letter a good three times to make sure you aren’t dreaming. You turn to check the peephole on your door. You’re sure he's outside laughing at the prank he concocted or even one of his friends who’s trying to set you up. When you see no one, you read the note one more time and decide you were, in fact, not dreaming.

This could still very well be a big joke or an excuse that Jungkook uses to try and get in your pants again so a big part of you is screaming not to meet him on Saturday….but, another part of you says what if it isn’t a trick and he does want to apologize for his behavior up until now and wants to be friends. An even smaller part of you is convinced that it’s a real date, but you try to ignore that.

Against your better judgment, you head to your closet to pick what you were going to wear Saturday night.

The restaurant you’re meeting Jungkook at isn’t the quality of a McDonald’s, but it also isn’t a Gordon Ramsay owned establishment, so your outfit is casual yet a little dressy. Your best friend Joohyun FaceTimed you as you got ready (she wasn’t thrilled you’d be eating there without her) and helped you decide on a simple red dress and a pair of black satin wedges.

You breeze through the front door, mustering all the confidence you had, and stop in front of the hostess podium. After giving her Jungkook’s name you force yourself to follow after her as she leads you through the maze of tables.

Jungkook’s back is to you so he doesn’t notice you arrive until the hostess bids you a good night and leaves. He stands up and rushes to pull your chair out for you to sit, mumbling what sounded like a greeting before returning to his seat across from you.

You were used to seeing Jungkook in different attire throughout the short time you’ve known him. On his way to and from working out, he’d be in his basketball shorts and tank tops. On days he had class, typically he’d be covered in various pairs of black jeans and baggy t-shirts. Even on the numerous occasions, you’d have to bang on his door in the middle of the night because of his noisiness, you’d see him either shirtless and only in sweatpants or full matching pajama sets. This is your first time seeing him in formal clothes and you have to scream at yourself not to gawk at him.

His usual unruly black locks are parted in the middle and styled neatly, but he’s left the natural waves in. The black button-down and black blazer he wore fit perfectly on his body, the arms of the blazer hugging his biceps and shoulders. His black slacks were cinched with a belt around his unfairly small waist and looked like second skin around his strong thighs.

This is similar to what got you in bed with him the first time, only it’s much worse this time. You chant to yourself in your head that tonight is about you getting a free meal, letting him beg for your forgiveness, and making him drive you home. That’s it!

“Uh, Noona?” Jungkook was looking at you with worry. You didn’t even realize you had spaced out.

“What?” You take a sip of your water and fiddle with your menu, anything, so that you aren’t looking directly at him.

“I just said that you look pretty and I’m really happy you came.” He smiles softly at you, clearly getting flustered.

“Oh, thank you.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to say something else, but a waiter appears and asks to take your orders. Jungkook orders a pasta that you didn’t recognize the name of and you stick with a cheese ravioli and glass of red wine. The prices next to everything catch your eye and you can’t help but wonder how a college student can afford this meal, but you don’t want to question him.

After the waiter leaves, there’s a beat of silence before Jungkook lets out a loud sigh. “I don’t want tonight to be weird. I want to enjoy my time with you, so lemme just get it out now. I’m sorry about how much of an ass I’ve been to you. I know that when the guys are around I behave like-”

“Like a fuckboy?” You interrupt, sipping more water.

“I-” Jungkook stops talking and chuckles. “Yes. Like a fuckboy. I don’t mean to. It’s just that, I don’t know, Jimin-hyung will start talking about a girl on campus that he’s into and make a joke, then I just go along with it and we keep going. I think I’m just so used to talking like that with them that I always do it,” he shrugs. “I know that’s not a good excuse, but I don’t mean to hurt your feelings or anything and I’m sorry.” You watch his hand move up to tug on his dangling earring out of nervousness.

“You don’t hurt my feelings. You make me want to murder you and bury your body under the floorboards,” you say with a straight face. Jungkook’s eyes widen and you both stare at each other. You break into a laughing fit first with him following.

Your waiter is back then, setting your wine in front of you and handing Jungkook his iced tea, then disappearing again.

“In all seriousness Jungkook, I don’t hate you or anything. All I ask is that you be considerate.”

“I can be better at that, I’m sorry.” Jungkook gulps his iced tea and clears his throat a few times. You can tell there’s something else on his mind. After a few more minutes of silence, Jungkook asks how your day at work was and you can’t help but launch into a story about your terrible coworkers while he listens attentively. You typically try not to complain about work, but you hate your job so much that it only takes a small bit of prodding to have you ranting.

Soon after you finish a story about your boss, your waiter is back with your food and conversation flows on. You reveal to Jungkook more about yourself, like how you knew college wasn’t for you after a single semester, and instead of getting a 4-year degree, you settled on a certificate in Social Media Marketing. You jumped right into the working world after that, taking nothing away from your quick college stint except for a friendship with Seokjin and hatred for higher education.

Jungkook begins telling you about his classes. He’s a photography major with a minor in music. He originally didn’t want to go to college because his parents wanted him to major in business, but they compromised with him and agreed to pay for what he wanted to do if he would at least go. They help pay for his apartment, but he also works part-time as a personal trainer at the gym closest to your building. He loves singing, video games, banana milk and he really wants a dog, so he dog-sits Taehyung’s dog often to fill that desire.

As the night goes on, you learn more about Jungkook in almost two hours than you knew about him in nearly half a year and vice versa. He isn’t half as bad as he pretends to be, but you can’t help the voice in the back of your head that keeps bringing up the brief time you spent in his bed. You don’t want to ruin the evening, but since he’s already being so open and honest, you have to find the right time to bring it up.

It’s nearly ten when Jungkook glances at his watch and says you should both head home since he has to get up early to work in the morning. He offers you a ride home which you accept, mostly so you don’t have to pay for a Lyft for a second time tonight. When the valet brings his car around, a sleek black Hyundai Ioniq, he holds the passenger door open for you. You can’t help the way you feel when Jungkook is so polite to you. You tell yourself it has nothing to do with the lingering feelings you have for him and more to do with the lack of chivalry from other men you’ve dated.

The ride home is comfortable, Jungkook turning on the radio and letting it play quietly in the background. He hums along to the song playing and rests his hand on the center console. He looks at ease and has the tiniest smile on his face. As much as you don’t want to sour the mood, you’ll be back to your building in about ten minutes and you already talked about so much tonight, why not get the answers you’ve been agonizing over for months.

“Why do you ignore the fact that we slept together at your housewarming party?” You blurt the question out before you can back out. Jungkook stops humming and his hand on the steering wheel tightens, his knuckles going white.

“What do you mean why did I ignore it? You’re the one that left before I woke up. You never brought it up so I didn’t either.”

You blink at him. “What?”

“I figured you wanted to avoid talking about it and forget it ever happened. I get it, we were both drunk and stuff like this happens,” he shrugs and your mind feels like it’s short-circuiting.

“What?” You repeat.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me. I know I’m younger and I’m still in college and you’re like an entire manager at this fancy marketing company and are so out of my league that I can’t even measure it. I just really like you so I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get to be with you, even if it was just for the night.” Jungkook lets out a sigh as he pulls into his assigned parking spot. He turns to you, probably noticing the surprised expression on your face. “I’m sorry if I’ve made things awkward now. I had a really good time with you tonight and I hope we can still be friends.”

The whole situation is so ridiculous that you want to laugh, but Jungkook is looking at you with what seemed like genuine anguish so you refrain for his sake. “Jungkook, we’re both idiots.”

“What?”

“First of all, I never brought it up because you never did. I thought you were the one that only wanted a one-night thing, given the way you act with women.”

Jungkook groans. “We are both idiots.” He lets out a laugh that you imitate, the two of you breaking into a fit of giggles.

“By the way,” you say, catching your breath. “I have a crush on you too.”

Jungkook stops laughing suddenly and turns his entire body to look at you. “Wait, you have? Present tense?”

“As much I wanted it to go away, and I really wanted it to, you’re too damn charming for your own good.”

“D-does this mean tonight can be considered our first date? Maybe?” He bites his lip, obviously nervous.

Can it? Even though you still harbored a crush on Jungkook, he was still a fuckboy and you would only invite that into your life if you could lay down some ground rules.

“I will only call this a date on three conditions,” Jungkook nods for you to continue. “One, you have to keep the noise down. No blasting The Weeknd at full volume at 3 in the morning.”

“Done.”

“Two, stop saying gross shit to me when your friends are around. No jokes about your dick or fucking you or anything like that.”

“I can do that.”

“Three, I’m not one of the little girls from your college that are just gonna beg to sleep with you. I am a grown woman and I need to be courted. Wined and dined and all that jazz.”

“You have my word, Noona. I can meet all of your conditions. You don’t have to worry.” He hops out of the car then and runs around to your side to hold the door open for you. “And if we’re still being honest, the only reason I was being loud like that is because I just wanted to see and talk to you.”

You scoff. “All I’ve done is bang on your door and curse you out. That’s what you wanted?”

“Honestly, I was taking whatever I could get from you.” You notice him breaking into a blush as he says this, making you smile. You hope Jungkook can keep his word as he claims.

Jungkook has surprisingly stuck to his word even two months after your first date. You had gone on dates together nearly every weekend since, sometimes to restaurants, to the movies, and in each other’s apartments for dinner and binge-watching anime.

Whenever his friends would see you in the hallway and Jungkook was there, he would quickly shut down any crude jokes they’d try to make, and eventually, they began to greet you normally with no lewd looks and no hint of flirtation. The noise next door also died down to a regular, comfortable volume so you no longer had to threaten any of the men that would frequent the apartment.

You’d learned so much about Jungkook in that short amount of time and every bit of him was equally as endearing. Even Duck had warmed up to him, and she usually hid when men were in your apartment. When he was over, she’d trot over and rub against his legs until he leaned down to scratch her chin or behind her ears. You had never told anyone, but you used your cat to judge people who came into your space, and the fact that Duck took a liking to him so quickly made you feel warm inside.

Getting to see the real Jungkook that was there underneath his fuckboy tendencies definitely affected you. The butterflies in your stomach were hard to ignore when they started to flutter whenever he would laugh or tell you about his day or simply do small, sweet gestures for you.

Both he and his friends told you that he was turning down every girl from school that approached him since the two of you started dating which, according to Seokjin who had stopped you in the hall one afternoon on his way to Jungkook's, was a very big deal. He was quite popular and slept with any attractive girl that wanted him. “It has to mean he’s serious about you since he’s given up pussy for you.” Seokjin had graciously told you.

This is something you keep in mind when you hit your three month dating anniversary which Jungkook insists is a thing that you celebrate. As soon as you get home after work, he’s knocking on your door with various shopping bags in his arms. While you do your usual after-work routine of feeding Duck and checking your mail, he draws a bath for you, complete with scented candles and bubbles, and tells you to enjoy it until he says you can come out. You weren’t about to argue with a nice bath, so you do as he says. Once you start to prune, he says you’re allowed to get dressed and come out.

As you throw on your pajamas, you smell what reminds you of Indian food. Upon padding into the living room in your slippers, you discover your nose is right. You see the spread of naan, jasmine rice, and tikka masala on your coffee table, but the rest of the living room is what truly catches your attention.

Jungkook has thrown sheer, shimmery covers on your two living room lamps, dimming the lights. Behind where your tv is mounted on the wall, he’s strung up twinkling fairy lights. The warm scent of the same candles that were lit in the bathroom linger with the smell of the naan, making your mouth water. Jungkook himself is standing in the living room holding a pile of blankets and tosses them onto the couch when he sees you.

“Ta-da! It’s nothing super extravagant, but we’ve been dating for three months now and I know how hard you work, so I wanted to do something nice with you.”

Tears mist your eyes and you furiously wipe them away before they can fall. This may be a small gesture for Jungkook, but it is the nicest thing that anyone you’ve ever dated has done for you. Walking over to him quickly, you throw your arms around him, catching him off guard and causing you both to topple onto the couch.

“Thank you,” you whisper. You lean down and place a soft peck on his lips. Before you can pull away, his hand cradles the back of your neck, bringing your lips together with more force. Your lips move together in a slow, languid kiss as you savor the moment. Jungkook’s tongue swipes against your bottom one and you open for him with no hesitation. Kissing Jungkook makes you feel as though you’re floating. He has a way of using his mouth that has you feeling dizzy just thinking of other places he could use it.

The kiss was becoming much more heated with you straddling his waist while his hands were trailing down your spine and grasping your hips.

“I think,” you breathe out, separating from him, “we should eat before the food gets cold.”

He glances up at you, eyes half-lidded and breath coming out in short bursts. “Good idea.” He smiles dreamily at you and sits up, carefully lifting you from his lap.

The rest of the night is spent watching bad horror movies and laughing at the absurd acting and stories. It’s nearly midnight when Jungkook helps you clean up and says goodnight. You share another lingering kiss at your front door before he’s gone and in his apartment.

As you’re turning off the lights in your living room, your phone lights up with a text.

Bae Joohyun: 🍉💗: is your boyfriend still over or are you two still “celebrating?” 👀

Y/n: he’s not my boyfriend first off and no he’s home now

Joohyun is calling only seconds after you sent her the text.

“Joo, do you know it’s midnight? We both have work in the morning.”

“That’s not why I called, Y/n! What do you mean Jungkook isn’t your boyfriend?!”

“What do you mean, what do I mean? He’s not my boyfriend.” You plop into bed, sighing as you pull your comforter up.

“You mean to tell me it’s been three months and he still hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend? And you haven’t slept with him?”

“Joo-” You know where this was going. Joohyun hasn’t trusted Jungkook since you started dating and even if she supported you and your happiness, she was still wary.

“Don’t ‘Joo’ me. This is still weird to me and I don’t like it. Didn’t you say he used to give it up to every girl at his school?”

“Yes, used to. He and the guys say he hasn’t been with anyone since we started dating, remember?”

Joohyun scoffs. “Yeah, that’s what he and his friends tell you. Y/n, you need to demand that he make it exclusive with you. It’s clear he likes you since you were telling me only a few hours ago how he was making a big deal out of a dating anniversary. There’s no reason he shouldn’t ask you to be his girlfriend at this point.” She’s right. The thought had crossed your mind that tonight he would ask you and you were still a little disappointed when he didn’t.

“I have been thinking about it...”

“Exactly. Give him a few days or something and if he doesn’t bring it up you need to. If he likes the way he acts like he does, it shouldn’t be a problem.” She makes you promise her you would and says goodnight.

Another three dates go by and still nothing from Jungkook about asking you to be official, so you decide you’d just have to do it yourself. The two of you were going to play mini-golf and get barbeque, so you plan to bring it up over dinner.

After ending a FaceTime call with Joohyun to show her your outfit, to which she praises how great your ass looks in your jeans and that Jungkook would be a fool not to wife you up, you feed Duck dinner. You think about how to style your hair as you’re pouring kibble when you hear voices from outside your door. Once the bowl of food was down for the tabby, you glance out of the peephole.

You see Jungkook’s friend Yoongi standing closest to your door. Taehyung, whose fire truck red hair is unmistakable, and his small dog Yeontan, were next to Yoongi. You can’t see Jimin, but you can hear him. “Jeon Jungkook! Open the door!”

“Oh, Jeon just texted me back,” Yoongi says. “He’s on his way now from class, but he has plans with Y/n tonight, so we can’t hang out.”

Jimin groans. “He always has plans with Y/n! We haven’t had a good gaming session in weeks!”

“It’s because he’s so far up her ass,” Taehyung chimes in. “I just wish he’d fuck her and get it over with, then maybe we can hang out again.”

You scowl at him through the door.

Yoongi punches Taehyung in the arm. “Don’t say that. He seems to like her.”

“Had I known I’d be losing my best friend, I never would’ve made that damn bet with him.” Jimin sighs loudly.

He never would’ve done what?

Before you can stop yourself, you’re throwing open your door so hard that it bangs against the wall. The three men in front of you trip over themselves to make space between themselves and you.

“Jimin, what did you just say? You never would’ve made a what with Jungkook?”

“I, uh, I…” Jimin stutters, looking to Taehyung and Yoongi for help. Both of them shake their heads, still keeping their distance from you.

The sound of humming has the four of you staring down the hall towards the stairs. Jungkook comes towards you all with his backpack slung over one shoulder and a smile on his face. “Hey, hyungs. Hey, Noona, I just have to shower and we can go.” Jungkook clearly wasn’t reading the atmosphere. 

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Jungkook finally takes notice of your expression and the tone of your voice.

“What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? I’m an idiot, that's what’s wrong!”

“Wh-”

“When were you going to tell me that I was a fucking bet?” Jungkook blanches, his mouth closing. His gaze immediately shoots to Jimin. “Yeah, I heard Jimin’s big ass mouth complaining about us spending so much time together. Even said that he wishes he hadn’t made the bet with you.”

“Noona, I can explain-” Jungkook begs.

“Don’t bother. I should’ve known this was too good to be true. I’m sure you’ve still been sleeping around too.”

“I haven’t!”

“Whatever. I don’t care what you do anymore.” You turn away and go back into your apartment. Jungkook is quick to follow behind, wedging himself in the door before you can slam it shut. “Jungkook, go away!”

“Noona, please just hear me out!” You put all your weight into trying to push him out of your doorway. He’s much stronger than you, of course, so he doesn't budge much.

The commotion riles up Yeontan who barks through the entire exchange, tugging on his leash. You don’t even notice Duck come up behind you to investigate the noises. Yeontan must see her because, in one go, he uses all his strength to take Taehyung off guard and dart forward so the leash flies from his hand. Yeontan dashes between your legs, into your apartment, and towards Duck. She hisses at him, running away from him and doing two laps around your living room.

Your attention is taken away from kicking Jungkook out to calling Duck’s name to get her to come to you. Everyone watches as Duck turns to swipe at the small dog. She hits him on the snout, making him whine, then begin barking at her again. Before you can snatch her up, she’s out the door, darting between Jimin and Yoongi’s open arms.

“Duck!” You elbow Jungkook out of the way and run behind her, following her down the stairs. When you reach the lobby, you see the front door is propped open while two movers try to maneuver a couch inside of the building. “Did either of you see a grey cat run by?!” The two men shake their heads but move to allow you to squeeze past them to get outside.

“Duck!” You call her name again, eyes scanning the sidewalk for her. After a few seconds of not seeing her around, you were blinking back tears, your chest feeling tight.

“Hey, Y/n,” Jungkook’s hand comes up to rest on your shoulder. You flinch away from him, your fear dissipating and being replaced with anger.

“You! This is your fault! I told you to leave me alone and now my cat ran away because of you!” You shove Jungkook’s chest making him stumble backward.

“Please listen to me, Y/n,” he pleads.

“Stop talking to me! I never want to see you again!” You turn and Taehyung is standing directly behind you with Yeontan in his arms.

“Y/n, I’m sor-” You push past him, ignoring him completely. Yoongi and Jimin quickly get out of the doorway to let you inside, obstacle-free.

It isn’t until you’re back in your apartment with your door shut and locked that you slide to the floor, sobbing loud enough that you know your neighbors can hear you.

Three days you spend holed up in bed. You call out from work and spend the days crying, sleeping, or watching tv. Your apartment is too quiet without the sound of Duck’s tinkling bell or even her small paws scratching at her litter box.

Knocking could be heard at your door each day that you were isolating yourself. Both Jungkook and Joohyun had tried to talk to you through the wood, and even Seokjin had attempted a couple of times. You couldn't find it in you to socialize. Not only did you lose your cat that you’ve loved and cherished for the entirety of your twenties, but you were also beating yourself up over Jungkook. You had let your guard down and started to let him in, choosing to think he was a better person than you initially thought, only to get your feelings hurt. You saw yourself loving him potentially, but to know he didn’t care for you the way he let on, hurt more than you thought it would.

You’re on day four of wallowing in your feelings when you figure you should eat actual food and stop drowning your sorrows in water and puffy Cheetos. While you wait for the pot of water for your ramen to boil, you play your appropriately named ‘sad girl hours’ playlist and scroll through apartment listings. Your lease would be up soon, but at this point, you were close to just breaking the lease.

A loud knock on your door nearly sends you out of the stool at your kitchen island. It’s almost after midnight, so it can’t be Joohyun unless it’s an emergency. Slowly sliding off of your seat, you tiptoe to the door and peek out, seeing Jungkook’s round, brown eye staring back. You gasp and duck out of the way as if he could see you through the peephole.

He knocks again. “Noona, please open up. I heard you pause your music which means you’re probably in the kitchen.”

You groan and you know he hears it. “I told you I never want to speak to you again, yet here we are, speaking.”

“I’m here for a good reason, Y/n. Just please open the door.” He sounds as exhausted as you feel.

“Why should I?”

“I need to show you something important that you’ll want to see.”

“Jeon Jungkook, if I open this door and find out you’re making a joke about your dick I will make sure you don’t see your college graduation.” You whip the door open, fully intending to be further irritated, but falter when you see a familiar grey ball of fur on your welcome mat. You drop to your knees to greet her, your eyes brimming with tears.

“I saw her outside the building just now when I was coming home from work. She let me scoop her up and bring her up here. I think she recognized me.” Jungkook says as Duck rubs furiously against your fingers.

Vision blurry, you look up at Jungkook who is smiling softly down at you. “Th-thank you. You don’t know how much she means to me.”

“I have an idea. I’m happy she came back to you.” The two of you stare at each other and you can feel a small smile on your face that matches Jungkook’s.

The timer on your stove goes off, signaling that your water has finished boiling and ruining the small moment you two shared. Duck trots into the apartment, immediately going to her food bowl which was still full from the night that she ran away.

“Y/n, listen, I-” Jungkook’s eyes dart around the room as he starts to talk, but he stops when he catches sight of your laptop screen. He brushes past you and beelines for the computer, seeing the homepage of a nearby apartment building pulled up. “Are you moving?” There is what sounds like panic in his voice.

Caught up in reuniting with Duck, you forgot the anger you were harboring towards Jungkook until that moment. You walk over and close your computer then continue preparing the meal you had started. “What’s it to you?”

“Noona, you can’t leave.”

“And why not?”

“Because I’ll miss you too much,” he says brazenly.

You turn to glare at him. “You can’t just say shit like that to me! Do you have any idea how humiliated I felt having to overhear your idiot friends talk about how they wished they never made a bet with you about me?”

“I know, okay. I know how that sounded, but you were not a bet like that,” he takes a deep breath and runs his fingers through his hair. “Everything I told you on our first date is true. I’ve liked you since the first day I saw and you told me that the apartment was vacant. The guys all knew and they’d give me shit every time you were around. I was tired of it and Jimin finally bet me that I wouldn’t be brave enough to ask you out and then I did.”

He sounds genuine and you want to believe him so bad. What if he’s lying? You would hate yourself if you let him hurt you more than once.

You turn back to the stove to stir your noodles. “I wish I could tell you I believe you and that we’ll be good again, but you know I don’t trust easily. I sat in this apartment for days thinking I was just a game to you and that sucked so bad.”

The sudden feeling of two warm, strong arms wrapping around your waist makes you jump. You should tell him to let you go, but you missed this. You missed him. “I’ll earn your trust back, Noona, I want to be with you so bad. Hell, I wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend the night that shit hit the fan.”

You can’t help but chuckle at that. “I was going to ask you to be my boyfriend that night too.”

Jungkook’s grip on your body tightens. “I promise you I’ll make you trust me again, just please don’t move away.” You don’t say anything in response, but you let him hold you for a little while longer.

“Duck, Parsnip! Dinner!” The sound of Duck’s bell comes closer to you followed by your new puppy’s nails hitting the wood floors. The chihuahua mix makes her way to you first, tail wagging as he waits for you to set down his food bowl. Duck stands up on her back legs for her dinner and dives face-first into the kibble as soon as the ceramic dish is down.

A knock on the door has you and both of the animals taking notice. Jimin, Seokjin, and Yoongi are on the other side holding bags of what you know to be decorations and snacks. Jungkook is working late on his birthday, so you and the guys decide to surprise him with a small party. It’s your first celebration in your shared apartment with Jungkook, so you want it to be perfect.

True to his word, Jungkook spent the remaining three months of your lease seeing you every day and winning you back. He’d bring you food or make your meals, always managing to bring you small gifts and doing any and every sweet gesture he could think of.

Two months of dating he asked you to be his girlfriend and you decided not to move. Shortly after that, he asked you to move in with him when your lease would officially be up. He wanted to prove how committed he was by wanting to live with you and promising to add your name to the lease once he renewed.

Naturally, you were hesitant, even if a big part of you wanted to. He had been able to win you back and you believed in how much he truly liked you, but moving in was a big step. When you asked Joohyun what she thought, she was all for it. Ever since Jungkook started courting you for a second time, she was all of a sudden a fan of him. Something about how she’d never known of a man putting in this much effort for a woman so he had to be telling the truth.

Following your gut, you decided to go for it and move in with Jungkook. After living with him and dating him for more than half a year, you were both on the lease and decided to welcome a puppy into the home, fulfilling Jungkook’s long-held desire for a dog of his own.

“Noona, where should I put the gifts?” Taehyung asks shortly after arriving.

“You can set them on the dining room table,” you say as you finish frosting Jungkook’s birthday cake. Hoseok and Namjoon finish hanging up the streamers around the apartment while Jimin and Yoongi blow up the last of the balloons. Seokjin is kind enough to help you cook dinner for everyone while Taehyung keeps Parsnip, Duck, and Yeontan (who Duck now tolerates) occupied amidst the commotion.

While you are sticking the candles atop the cake and Seokjin takes the last simmering pot off of the stove, Joohyun comes bursting through the unlocked apartment door, panting. “Jungkook is on his way! He’s checking the mail so I ran up here.”

You place the decorated cake on the counter and remove your apron. “Okay, we have probably less than sixty seconds, let's move, people!” The seven of you rush around the apartment, turning off the lights and finding places around the apartment to hide. You and Joohyun are crouching behind the couch when you hear the front door open.

“Babe? Is Joohyun here? I saw her-”

“Surprise!” When Jungkook flips on the light you all jump out causing him to stumble back in shock. He recovers quickly, plastering a huge smile on his face. One by one, his friends rush over and pull him into a group hug, giving him various birthday wishes. Joohyun hugs him next and he compliments her speed at beating him upstairs. You’re last to greet him, letting him tug you into him for a hard kiss that lasts so long, Taehyung has to yell for you two to get a room.

“Happy birthday, baby,” you tell him, kissing him once more on the cheek.

“Thank you, Noona,” he kisses your forehead. “I love you,” he whispers then heads straight for the cake with Seokjin yelling at him to eat the food that he slaved over the hot stove for first.

You stand there, jaw slightly slack. That was the first time Jungkook has told you that he loves you. While you didn’t expect it, you can’t deny the warmth blooming in your chest.

Jungkook glances at you over his shoulder. I love you too, your mouth to him and you swear his smile widens so much that his cheeks will hurt.

Looking at things now, you can’t see your life without Jungkook. Through everything, he’s cemented himself firmly in your heart. You’d have to remember to give him an extra special birthday gift later to thank him for deciding to be your next-door neighbor.

2nd A/N: Y/n’s cat is literally my cat. My wife demanded that I specify that I took some creative liberties and exaggerated Duck’s personality for the story. It’s true that she doesn’t like men, but she would sooner fight any man or dog that approached her than run away. It’s okay though she appreciates the cameo. 

[yeojaa]

( ROSERAIE. )

What you had - so brilliant and beautiful and bright it was almost impossible to look at head-on - was what was tearing you two apart.  It was your love that would be your demise.  

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.

genre + rating.   my take on a hanahaki!au.  pretty heavy on the angst.  general.

tags / warnings.  mention of minor character death, breaking up, soulmates, angst, unrequited love, sick character (hanahaki), bittersweet, non-idol.

wc.  3.2k

beta reader(s).  my forever queens, @hobi-gif​ @snackhobi​!  you both bring such hope and joy (hahahaha) to my life!!!  and of course, the loveliest angels @joheun-saram​, @pars-ley​, and @ditttiii​ for reading through and giving me excellent feedback!

author note.  this is a part of @goldenclosetnetwork​‘s 23 | jungkook’s birthday project.  it’s my first time writing a hanahaki au so...  i have a lot of headcanons for it but i’m not sure whether it all came across in the story.  😰  eep.  anyway, please enjoy and feel free to leave any feedback.  i would love and appreciate it!  most importantly:  happy birthday, kook!  💖

Your parents were a young match.  Together from the tender age of eleven, they’d shared pieces of themselves readily, trading secrets in tree houses and blanket forts.  Nothing was held back - a childhood crush brought to life by playful ribbing and sugar-coated snacks.  Where your mother went, so did your father;  she was his light as much as he was her shadow.  Two halves of a destined whole, earnest and pure.  Friends first.  

It made perfect sense when they shared their dreams - the same one they’d had since they could remember - and it was identical:  swimming in the ocean with a faceless friend, families on their respective four and three-week long road trips.  They’d recognised each other immediately, felt the click the moment they stepped off the camper van.  Your father had called it cooties;  your mother said butterflies.

It didn’t matter that they’d never seen each other’s faces until that moment.  There was the spark.  Recognition.  The rest was history. 

Jungkook’s parents have been soulmates since the early 2000s.  His father had lost his wife - his first soulmate - exactly one year prior to their meeting.  He didn’t have his recurring dream until a fortnight before he met his wife.  Hadn’t expected it, either.  He’d been talking about his day in his local support group (it never got easier, he’d discovered) and he’d mentioned it in passing, glossing over the details of the vivid new pictures painted against his eyelids.  His second wife - his second chance - had attended after losing her son.  A complete chance.  Serendipitous. 

It wasn’t always simple, though.  The heartbreaking endings came just as often as the happy.  

There were people who lost their soulmates before even meeting them.  They’d never know they’d lost their first one until the next dream came - if it came.  If they were lucky enough.  

There were message boards and dating sites.  Places people stripped themselves bare and spilt their secrets to the world.  Desperate for love, they detailed their dreams and hoped that their other half was somewhere out there, reading those same words.  

Some, though, never found their special someone.  Life came at you fast and from all directions - or it never came at all, caught somewhere across the globe in the form of someone you’d never meet.  Those were the most painful circumstances, as if fate was cheating the system.  Here’s a love you know you have, but that you’ll never experience.  It was terribly cruel. 

(But when was life ever fair?)

There were stories about those that never found their puzzle piece and how it felt, whether it hurt.  Most said it was a quiet ache, something you never really noticed until you thought too closely about it, like a scar that had healed over or a loved one gone a long time.  Painful in an explicable way and only - luckily, miserably - softened by ignorance. 

Others spoke about it like death, missing an integral part of themselves.  It played a large part of their life, shaping and changing them with each passing day.  They couldn’t fully live without their person, even if they’d never met them.  It was simply the principal of the matter. 

You’d never quite existed in either camp.  You’d always wanted to find love but you hadn’t rushed it.  You figured you’d meet your happily ever after at some point.  Maybe at your work - caught between the shelves or returning an overdue book - or maybe out with your dog, walking the same route you took every day.  They’d show up one day.  You were sure of it. 

Love had a way of surrounding you. 

Your best friends - because of course the two of them would fall for each other (it was nauseating) - had found each other young too, on the grounds of the elementary school you all played on.  They’d been bonded since the beginning, secrets exchanged in art class and atop monkey bars.  You’d cheered them on the whole way, giddy in a way you couldn’t describe.  Being around it  felt like standing beneath the sun, scorching heat warming you all the way to the core.  It didn’t matter that you didn’t have it for yourself (yet). 

They’d come.  Eventually.  You felt it in your bones and later, you’d learn, in your shins.

He’d come around the corner fast as a bullet, headphones in and hood pulled over his head.  You’d barely have time to avoid him, poor coordination lending itself to disaster when only one of your feet would make it out of his path of destruction.  

BANG!  

It was something right out of a campy romance novel.  Guy goes jogging, runs headlong into his dearly beloved and nearly gives her a concussion.  He feels bad for her scraped knees and falls in love with her dog.  His morning runs become theirs and six weeks later, over a late night bite of contrasting gelato flavours - green tea for him, bubble gum for her - they fit the pieces together.

Jungkook’s the faceless boy you’d always dreamt of, one hand on the wheel, the other resting easily on your thigh.  He was the one with the slick black AppleWatch and long fingers.  You’d never imagined he’d be covered in ink, immaculate designs running the length of his forearm all the way back and across his shoulders.  In fact, you’d never thought about tattoos at all. 

You get your first and only one with him - intricate red looped around your wrists and over your pinkies.  Your own, very real string of fate, sealed and signed forever in rouge. 

He was your Prince Charming, your best friend, your bonafide soulmate.  You’d done everything together - skydiving, snorkelling, silly photos atop the Eiffel Tower.  He’d adapted to your distaste of onions and took them all, meticulously picking them out of stir fries and sauces until not a single sliver remained.  You’d learnt to tolerate his unbearably fast driving, white-knuckled and silent when he’d tear around corners too fast in a car too low. You fit perfectly, filling all the spaces he could never, keeping him whole even when he was broken.  

Your love was of fairy tales but it was better than that too.  Real.  Concrete.  Solid.

Until it wasn’t.    

The two of you had never had any other choice.

That’s what it feels like, at least.  He’d done his best - tried every little thing he could’ve possibly imagined - and it’d all amounted to nothing.  He’d gone through all the motions, explored every avenue, given everything he had.  It wasn’t working.  This thing he wanted with every fibre of his being, that he’d hoped for his whole life, just wasn’t working.  It wasn’t for him.

“I’m sorry,”  he cries, and he knows you know he means it.  You can read it between every line of his expression, tucked among the neatly scrawled india ink in faded red, underlining the passages you’d written together.  He is sorry.  He’d never meant to do this to you, nor you to him.  He’d wanted to give you it all - make all your hopes and dreams come true.

Sometimes, fate just had other plans.  

Because what the two of you had - so brilliant and beautiful and bright it was almost impossible to look at head-on - was what was tearing you apart.  It was your love that would be your demise.  

And he can’t bear to hurt the one he loves.  

He’d tried so hard.  Really, he had.  You had too, more than he ever deserved. 

There was simply no other option.  You’d always come up short.  You weren’t the one for him - not anymore - no matter how badly you wanted to be.  You weren’t the one meant for him.  You’d fumble for that ledge - held so impossibly high, just barely out of reach - before falling right back to where you began.  The bottom.  He couldn’t stand to see you there, brought to your knees once, twice, a hundred times.  

He’d lose count if not for the petals.

Little ones, at first.  Tiny pieces of silk you’d found on your pillowcase, outside the shower, in your water glass.  They’d been unassuming - reminders you could easily ignore.  

Then they’d grown, velvet softness that made it hard to breathe, that had him rubbing soothing circles over your skin, earnest vows winding like vines around your airways.  Neither of you had had any idea why it was happening.  You were soulmates - bound to each other and destined since the beginning.  Your love wasn’t unrequited. 

“We’ll figure it out,”  he’d said.  Sworn.  “We’ll get through this.”

Your heart had broken with each promise;  his had too, differently, but in perfect tandem.  

(Spring still came, steadily, with a rose garden blooming within your insides and freesias in your nose.) 

It wasn’t his fault.  You would never blame him, even when it was his fist that broke yours, splintered it into a million pieces that cut worse than the thorns in your lungs.  You knew this was just as hard for him.  He’d had to watch you wither away, even as a patchwork of flowers blossomed in the spaces he’d thought he could keep safe.  He hated it - could barely take it.  It kept him up all night, tears in his eyes.  Even when he slept - managed it, every few days - it’d prompt him awake in a cold sweat.

If he’d known then what had changed, maybe he could’ve fixed it sooner.  Maybe he could’ve saved you the heartache.  (Weeks later and during a coffee break with the new girl at his startup was not how he’d expected to find his answer.)

“I love you,”  you tell him, an ocean of sadness.  He loves you too, more than anything, more than there are stars in the sky.  He loves you with every part of himself - and yet he knows now that’s what’s causing this.  He loves you, but not in the right way.  Every touch he offers is wrong, leaving you bruised, broken, barely breathing.  It’s a disease - a venereal infection that seeps beneath skin and bone, settling within the marrow.  It changes you from the inside out, realigns your DNA until you’re mutated and miserable. 

The realisation is devastating:  his love causes more harm than it heals. 

So he stands there now, caught in the distance between you, eyes melancholy blue.  His composure is frayed, crippled beneath the weight of your circumstance.  He tries to memorise your face in these last moments - the colour of your hair, the shape of your stare.  How you sound in the morning - voice raspy with sleep, dust caught in your eyes.  The way you hold him close and the feeling of your eyelashes against his neck in the early hours.  

Jeon Jungkook doesn’t want this to end.  He doesn’t want to lose you, give you - this - up but he has to.  He has to, for you.  To give you a chance.  

Even after having so little - only five short years - you were about to lose the rest of your lives.  

You pack your bags - he helps, folding your favourite sweater (one of his, in truth) alongside your toiletries and undergarments - and you prepare to do the thing that you should never have to do.  You sign papers, dot I’s and cross T’s, and put all your treasured memories away into cardboard boxes to never be touched again.  You label them neatly and dress tape over edges;  Band-Aids meant to hold together the deepest wounds.

You’re going under by anaesthetic and he’ll be here, where he has everything he wishes he could give you.  A love he doesn’t deserve, within arms he wishes were yours. 

He wonders whether he’ll still feel the pull once it’s done or whether his heart will stay there, tucked somewhere beneath the dug up roots.  Whether it’ll be safe, undiscovered like a long lost treasure.  

It’s best this way.  He tells himself that - loops it on repeat until it’s the only thing he can think.  It has to be better.  For you, for you, for you. 

He knows he’ll carry you with him forever.  Like the air in his lungs, you’ll keep him going.  

He’s snapped back to the present, to the small hallway of the home you’d built together.  The traces of you are gone - all the photos hidden away, your row of shoes missing from beside his.  It’s strangely bare.  He knows it won’t last long.  She’ll be here next week.

Your hand pushes against his cheek, thumb caressing along the seam of his bottom lip, right where the freckle sits.  He’s a thief - a criminal, a sinner - when he dips his head, presses back into the warmth of your palm.  This isn’t for him to take but he does anyway, eagerly and with deep regret. 

“I love you.”  Your voice cuts through all the white noise and agony - a beacon in the night, guiding him home.  

He smiles, half-hearted and weak and not even his.  Every part of him screams at him to beg you not to do it, to accept him for the man he is - lost and weak and sorry.  He almost drops to his knees - fights tooth and nail against his aching limbs not to - and brings a hand to yours.  The red threads looped around your wrists fit perfectly together, the ends of inked rope caught around your pinkies matching when his fingers slot between yours. 

Don’t do this, he pleads, without words or hope. 

“I’ll love you forever,”  you tell him - promise like he had you.  “You’ll always be the brightest star in my sky, Jeon Jungkook.”

He almost cracks - seams near splitting, adhesive tearing from skin - when you return his smile and he can see how hard it is.  You’re already broken, all the pieces of your puzzle in terrible disarray. 

You’re trying, for him. 

“I’m so sorry,” he answers, because that is kinder than an I love you that doesn’t mean what you need it to.  Because you deserve better - you deserve it in the same way you mean it. 

So he’ll let you leave and he’ll pray this isn’t the worst decision of his whole life.  

“I’ll see you.”  

He hopes so.  He can’t bear the idea of losing you again.  He doesn’t think even she could fix him if he had to. 

“Be safe,”  he whispers, in a voice that stutters your stare and shatters what little resolve you have left.  He sees it in your eyes - all the crystallised parts of your composure turned to ash.  He wishes he could be sorry.  He’s not.  

“I love you,”  you repeat with an air of finality. 

Jungkook does the same:  “I’m sorry.” 

You leave, ushered into the back of your mother’s tiny sedan.  She helps you with your bags and your seatbelt, rubbing your shoulder carefully when baby’s breath slips past your lips and falls all over your lap.  She meets his stare when she climbs into the driver’s seat.  He tries to read her expression.  Understanding?  Resentment?  Gratitude?  

The car pulls away with a groan, disappearing down the tree-lined street.  Jungkook stands in the doorway for far longer than he should.

He’s moved on - settled down with the girl of his dreams.  Literally.  

She’s nothing like you, sarcastic and stubborn with a staunch refusal to ever come second best.  She laughs maybe a bit too loud, giving him shit when he orders in another car part.  She’d eat an onion raw, if she could, and takes showers hot enough to slough the skin from her bones.  They have a home together and in a year’s time, he thinks he’ll propose.  He’s not in any rush, though, because he knows she’s his forever.  

(Knows it, even though you’d once been that same shining star to him.  He has to believe it won’t happen again.  Life can’t screw someone twice, right?  Lightning never strikes the same spot or something like that?)

Still, he tries to forget the feeling of you.  

It isn’t as hard as he’d thought it would be.  The love exists as it always has, just differently, in the palm of his hand and not the space behind his ribs.  You’re his best friend and he is disgustingly, unbelievably lucky.  

He’d gotten his second chance.  Even if he’d once resented it, he had everything now.  

You still go for your morning runs and he still changes your oil because you’d never learnt how to.  His parents invite you for Sunday dinners;  you’re gracious enough to decline them.  You don’t see it as pity - you just don’t want to intrude.  (It isn’t your place any longer.)  You accept all the changes readily, without regret.  You promise you’ll go by one day.  

Your parents never speak to him.  He doesn’t blame them.  At the supermarket, on the street, in passing when he’s coming and they’re leaving - it’s radio silent.  

It’s been six months and you haven’t dreamt at all.  They’d hoped - prayed - that you’d find someone new after him, someone to treat you right.  You don’t mind, you tell them.  I’ll meet my special eventually, you say (again, again).

He wonders whether you resent them for it - their concern, perhaps a bit overbearing and offered with a heavy hand.  If you do, you say nothing, playing along each time they suggest you meet another friend’s son, another junior at your father’s accounting firm.  You don’t understand the sad way they watch you. 

“I’m sorry,”  he mumbles one night, seated at the neighbourhood cafe you’d frequented on your first date.  Your idea, because you loved coffee and, in your old words, this was your place.  The start of it all, where he’d knocked you hard onto pavement and stolen your heart in the process.

You don’t remember it now.  Not in the same way. 

This is somewhere you come for their great matcha lattes, where you waste a few too many evenings when you just want to get out of the house.  It isn’t the place he’d told you he loved you or where you’d resolved your first fight.  

(It’d been stupid.  He’d forgotten to pick up groceries for your first dinner with your parents.  You’d been so stressed you’d snapped at him, carrying tension into the rest of the evening.  He’d apologised with an almond croissant and your favourite green drink.)  

It’s like a wall has gone up, splitting your heart in two.  The part of you that’d once been Jungkook’s remains out of reach, caught behind a gate neither of you have the key to.  

“For what?”  You quip, a milk moustache presenting itself over the rim of your mug.   

Jungkook shrugs.  He can’t make you understand.  “Y’know,”  he mumbles into his red bean mochi bun.  It sticks to his teeth and coats them in soft white flour.  “Just— everything.”  It’s not enough, either as an explanation or an apology.  It falls terribly short, barely worthy of a participation trophy.  

“It’s fine.”  You say it every time, clockwork in response to the same apology he always gives - out of the blue and vague.

“No, but I’m—”

You level him with a glare.  It might’ve hurt once but now it settles like a scolding from a sibling.  He reminds himself this is how it should be, you there and him here - two parallel lines.  

The guilt never goes away. 

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice​​ @youwannabelostandnotbefound​​​ @snackhobi​​

[baepsaesbae]

Personal Galaxy

Pairing—  Jungkook x female reader

Genre—  SMUT, Fluff, Established relationship au

Warnings— Explicit unprotected sex, slight exhibitionism (they’re outside), oral (m receiving), mild swearing, fluffy boyfriend vibes that will make you love Jungkook even more 

Word count—  ~4.1k

About—  You and your boyfriend, Jungkook, decide to go stargazing as a special treat for your anniversary. 

A/N— Happy Birthday Jungkook! This was a collab with @goldenclosetnetwork for their Golden Closet Net Jungkook Birthday Project. I hope you guys like it, please let me know what ya think! (also this beautiful banner was whipped up in record time by the marvelous @kimtaehyunq)

After college starts, summer is no longer a relaxing season dedicated to lounging around and goofing off with friends. Unfortunately, now summers were filled with internships or temporary summer jobs. You got the short end of the stick though, as your summer was going to be filled with summer classes. Along with taking summer classes, you had to deal with the grueling heat. Walking back and forth from your classes to your dorm was quite an ordeal, as the sun drained you of all your energy. 

Your only solace of not going home was that you were close to your boyfriend, Jungkook. You guys started dating towards the end of the spring semester, so the relationship was somewhat new. He was nothing but incredibly sweet to you, and you honestly could not believe you were dating him. From what you observed, he was basically perfect. 

At first you thought he was a little shy, but when you got to know him, you soon realized he’s just a huge lovable dork. He loved gaming, and bragged about what his rank in League of Legends used to be (platinum, he was in the top 8% of all people who played). You tried to take him seriously, but you couldn’t help but laugh. You didn’t laugh because you were making fun of him, you laughed because he was just too cute. You adored the way his eyes twinkled when he talked about what he was passionate about. He would get lost in his own world and ramble on before he realized you were still there. At that point he would reach out and pull you into a hug and ask about your day.

After a long day of listening to a boring chemistry lecture, you finally got back to your dorm. You freshened up with a quick shower and collapsed into your bed. You were about to drift off when your phone starts to buzz. It was a video call from Jungkook.

“Hey baby what’s up?” Jungkook beamed on the other end. It looked like he just got out of the shower too.

“Hey Kookie. I’m done with class for the day. Have I told you how much I hate chemistry?” you groaned in response.

“Plenty of times. In fact, multiple times a day. Can’t blame you though. You can relax when I come see you this weekend,” Jungkook tried to cheer you up. 

Jungkook lived about an hour away from campus, so he stayed in a dorm during the school year. However, he went home during the summer break. With that being said, he insisted on coming down to see you every weekend. At first you protested, arguing that gas was too expensive and the commute would take too much time. But he simply said, “I just want to see my girl. What’s so wrong with that? It’s no one’s decision but mine.” You couldn’t argue with him after that.

“Why don’t we do something different this weekend?” you asked. This weekend would mark your 3 month anniversary. 

“Yeah? Like in the bedroom?” he was intrigued. 

“No! I mean...sure? Wait no that’s not what I’m talking about right now, you dingus. Why don’t we get away or something? There’s a park about an hour away that is known for stargazing! They have their own observatory and all that. Would you wanna--”

“Yes. Let’s do it.” Jungkook didn’t even let you finish. You knew he’d be excited. Along with videogames, anything pertaining to outer space had his heart. He loved reading about various stars, and was always hypothesizing how space travel would work.

The weekend couldn’t come fast enough. You spaced out in lecture often, but now you definitely couldn’t focus. The thought of being hand in hand with Jungkook while traversing the trails together was enough to make your heart flutter. That, coupled with the fact that you two would be under the stars without any air pollution, really had you on Cloud 9. 

You gleefully hopped into Jungkook’s car in the late afternoon. Jungkook was wearing his favorite bucket hat with his usual casual clothes. 

“Hello beautiful,” Jungkook leaned over to kiss you, “Let’s go get our dinner. How do ready made sandwiches sound?”

“Sounds perfect! Why don’t we get some fruit too?” you sat back in your seat.

“Ohhh healthy. Yes ma’am we can do that.” he drove to the closest supermarket. 

“Hey babe, let’s get this bread,” Jungkook joked as he picked up a sandwich. You couldn’t help but laugh at his little one-liner. You both love that meme. You guys strolled over to the fruits section. Of course, there had to be a debate over which fruits to get.

“It’s hot outside so why don’t we get watermelon?” you suggested.

“Mm that’s a good point. But watermelons are basically just water. Why don’t we get pineapples instead? We can see if that myth really is true?” Jungkook wiggled his eyebrows at you. 

“You dog!” you playfully slap his arm, “Let’s get both then. The more the merrier.”

“Okiedokie. Don’t act like you don’t wanna try the pineapple trick though,” he teased.

“Maybe I do. What of it?” you retorted.

“Nothing. That’s perfect for me,” he winked as you guys went to checkout.

The drive to the park was relaxing. Jungkook played his music and sang along to all the songs. You occasionally chimed in whenever you knew the lyrics, but you preferred to listen to him instead. Even when he was messing around, his angelic voice was still euphoric. You were pleasantly surprised when he first sang in front of you. You didn’t think it was possible to hear an angel up close. 

Getting away from the city was something you needed. As the tall buildings faded in the background, a more sparse landscape came into view. You loved the open road. Sure, the neverending grass and scattered trees weren’t the most breathtaking view, but it was pleasant nonetheless. You saw the occasional cow or horse, and never failed to point them out to Jungkook. He would always respond with a “wow!” or a “so cute!” and chuckle at you. Everything you did was so adorable to him, though he wasn’t the most vocal about all that mushy stuff. He was sure he had already fallen in love with you, but he wasn’t sure if you felt the same yet. He’d keep that to himself for a little bit longer.

The park itself was nothing grand. It being closer to the coast meant that it was a little on the swampy side. After several attempts to make sense of the provided park map, Jungkook finally found a parking lot.

“Okay according to the map, this is the closest parking lot to the observatory. I think there’s a trail nearby too,” you say as you hand him the map.

“Let’s go!” Jungkook leapt out of the car before he could even see you trying to give him the map.

Jungkook grabbed the food from the backseat as you got out of the car. Sadly, neither of you had a stereotypical picnic wicker basket, so everything was just in the plastic shopping bag from the store. That didn’t make it any less charming when Jungkook started swinging the bag back and forth in one hand while doing the same thing to your hand on his other side. 

The sun was beginning to set, but you could still feel its warmth in the breaks between the shady parts of the trail Jungkook led you on. The trail itself was basically a small gravel path that led from the parking lot to a picnic site overlooking a swampy lake. The trees that grew in the open grove by the picnic tables were extremely old, as they loomed high overhead. 

Neither of you had spoken since you left the car. You were both enjoying the fresh air and new sights. The candid sounds of nature filled the air. From the buzzing of the cicadas, to the occasional whooping of unseen birds, the authenticity of it all had you in a trance. Jungkook squeezed your hand and you snapped back to reality. Your eyes wandered back to him to see a soft smile on his face. 

“Is this table okay, baby?” he looked at you with his doe eyes.

“Yeah it’s good. Do you like this place so far?” you asked as you started to get the food out.

“I do. It’s beautiful. Everything is just so...natural. Obviously,” he chuckled, “The scenery is the second most beautiful thing here.”

“Mm okay I’ll bite. What’s the first most beautiful thing here?” you cocked your head in amusement.

“Me, of course! Why would you even ask that when you already know the answer?” he laughed. 

“Oh you’re so right. How silly of me. I have your food here, you dork. Do you wanna start with the pineapples or watermelons first?”

“Let’s open the watermelons since it’s still kinda hot out,” he plopped down beside you.

You foolishly skipped lunch, so your stomach was killing you. Jungkook joked that it sounded like a dying cat during the car ride. Sometimes it got so loud that he could hear it over his music. He wanted you to eat while he drove, but you refused because you wanted to eat together. Thinking back, you realized you could have fed him while he was driving. It’s not an issue anymore though, not when you’re both wolfing down your sandwiches. The watermelon was definitely a good choice, as it was a perfect weapon to combat the heat. 

There was a gazebo next to the water that allowed visitors to get a better view of the swampy environment. You led Jungkook over to it after packing up the leftovers (only a few pineapples were left). The water was murky, most of the vegetation that surfaced looked dead, and everything put together made the place seem perfect for filming a swamp horror film. Despite all of that, you couldn’t help but think it was still beautiful. Upon a closer look, you spotted some small turtles on the closest log by the gazebo. Of course you excitedly pointed them out to Jungkook, who cooed at how cute they were. Jungkook brought you closer to him so he could hug you from behind and rested his chin atop your head. He loved the height difference between you two, it always made him feel like that much more of YOUR man. He also mercilessly teased you for being short, but that was just an added bonus. 

“Do you feel relaxed?” he whispered in your ear before nibbling it.

“I feel so relaxed, darling,” you say, leaning into him, “The sunset is gorgeous out here. Even if it feels like we’re about to get attacked by a swamp creature at any second.”

“Yeah, instead we’re being attacked by a billion fucking mosquitoes. Babe, I don’t think your bug spray is working,” Jungkook swatted away the hovering pests.

“But my mom got it for me! It’s supposed to be a more organic and natural spray,” you pout.

“Well, I’m sorry but your mom’s organic bug spray isn’t doing shit. In fact, I feel like it’s attracting them,” his swatting became more forceful. 

“Oh, you’re not even getting bit. They’re all over ME,” you say as you started to feel insanely itchy all over your arms and legs, “Let’s go to the observatory, the sun has already begun to set. Also there are probably more mosquitoes here by the water, so let’s get the hell away from that.” 

“There’s still about half an hour of sunlight left,” Jungkook observed after checking his phone, “We have some time to kill. Wanna check out more of this trail?”

“Sure. As long as it leads away from the water,” you shrugged as you followed Jungkook into the forested area.

Golden hour shone down through the trees. The rays made Jungkook glow and look even more ethereal. He rubbed his thumb over your hand as he led you down the trail. You absentmindedly brought his hand up to your mouth to plant a soft kiss on the back of it. 

“I haven’t seen anyone on this trail the entire time we’ve been here,” Jungkook observed.

“It’s nice. It’s like our own little sanctuary,” you agreed.

“And you look so cute in that outfit of yours,” Jungkook’s voice lowered.

“What are you suggesting, Jungkook?” you played along, caressing his bicep. 

Jungkook abruptly led you off the beaten path, into a more heavily wooded area. He spun you around into a deep kiss, backing you up against a tree. You palmed him through his pants, finding him already half hard.

“What if we get caught?” you huffed into his mouth.

“Doesn’t that make it more exciting?” he said as he nipped at your neck while fondling your breasts. 

“I’m gonna have bug bites on my ass,” you laughed.

“I’ll bite your ass when we get back to even it out,” he chuckled into another kiss.

You forcefully switched positions with Jungkook as you tugged off his pants. You kissed along his jawline and down his neck before sinking to your knees in front of him. His erection bulged in his underwear, begging to be set free.  

You teasingly licked him over his underwear, making him groan. As much as you wanted to continue teasing him, you didn’t want to get caught before he actually had the chance to fuck you.

You pulled off his underwear, leaving him fully exposed. You delicately kissed the tip of his penis like it was some sort of polite greeting. Then, you lewdly flattened your tongue on the base of his cock and licked a long stripe upwards and finished at the top with a swirl. You hollowed out your cheeks as you sucked him off at a repetitive pace. 

“Do you want me to fuck you here, baby?” Jungkook huffed above you.

You looked up at him with innocent eyes as you deepthroated him. Saliva dripped off his cock and down your chin, a sight that would make any man sweat. You nodded and released him with a satisfying *pop*. 

“You’re so fucking sexy. Switch places with me and face the tree,” he commanded. 

You did as he said, bending over at the waist. He tugged off your bottoms, revealing your dripping core. He tantalizingly ran his tip along your folds.

“Hurry up! I don’t wanna get caught,” you complained as you wiggled your butt at him.

“So impatient,” Jungkook admonished as he slapped your ass.

You didn’t have time to complain because he jammed his dick into you immediately after his slap. You instinctively covered your mouth to suppress your moans. Your free hand toyed with your clit, rubbing it intensely. The thought of being caught at any second had you even more wet than usual. Jungkook noticed.

“You’re so wet. I’m gonna cum in no time,” Jungkook groaned as he thrust deeper into you. 

Jungkook released his load into you. You moaned as you felt his hot juices fill you up, mixing with your own mess as it dribbled down your legs. Jungkook gave your ass one last slap before rummaging for a spare napkin in the picnic bag. He cleaned you up as best as he could, but you desperately needed a shower. That’ll have to wait.

Retracing your steps, you both wound up back at the parking lot, which was perfect because the trail to the observatory was just on the other side. The once empty parking lot was now nearly full as the new arrivals made their way towards the observatory. The sun was almost fully set at this point, so it was getting a little hard to see.

“Babe look!” Jungkook shouted as he pointed to a little creature that scurried in front of you. You jump back from his sudden yell, and then lock eyes with the possum that stood in your path.

“I don’t know whether to be scared or to call it cute,” you say, clinging tightly onto Jungkook’s arm as the possum lost interest in your staring contest and continued on its journey. 

“I would say it’s cute. As long as it doesn’t attack you. Oh holy SHIT babe don’t look up!” Jungkook found himself frozen in place. 

“Huh why-- OH MY FUCKIN GOD!” you neglected to heed his warning. Looming about two feet above Jungkook’s head was a gigantic spider. The web it was dangling from was enormous. You hate all kinds of insects (yes a spider isn’t an insect, but it falls under the creepy crawly category so you hate it too) but spiders are by far the scariest to you. After you screamed you clutched Jungkook’s arm tighter, probably cutting off his circulation. 

“Okay okay just close your eyes and keep close to me. It seems like those guys are strung along the entire path,” Jungkook kept you by his side as you guys progressed past the trees. You helplessly kept your eyes closed and completely relied on Jungkook to guide you. Thankfully, it only took about three minutes to get past all the trees; the observatory was in an open clearing. Jungkook gave you the ok to open your eyes again.

“Thank you Kookie, you’re so sweet to me,” you kissed Jungkook softly on the cheek.

“Usually I’d make fun of you, but those things kinda freaked me out. So I could only imagine how scared you’d be of them. Don’t worry baby, I’ll protect you,” Jungkook returned your affection with a kiss on the forehead. 

The line for the main telescope was already long, so you guys ventured off to one of the smaller ones instead. There were three big telescopes in the overall observatory. Amateur stargazers were scattered around the deck with their personal telescopes. You saw them letting other people see through them, so you made a mental note to check them out after the main telescopes. The sun had finally set, and now the dark sky was illuminated with shining stars. 

As you waited in line, you looked back at Jungkook, who hadn’t let go of your hand this entire time. His eyes were glued to the wonders above him. His doe eyes were wide and twinkled more than you’ve ever seen before. His mouth was agape and you were amused by how captivated he was; everything about this boy was so pure. It was in that moment that you realized you had fallen head over heels for him. You wanted to tell him you loved him right then and there, but you held your tongue. You were worried that he didn’t feel the same way. Hopefully one day he could return the sentiment, but for now you will keep those three words to yourself. 

“You lot are pretty lucky! It had been cloudy for the past week. Tonight’s the first night that the sky’s been clear. It’s also the perfect night to view Saturn!” the telescope’s attendant informed the people in line.

You and Jungkook were the next people to go. You were amazed at how big the telescope was, and this wasn’t even the big main one yet. You went first. You climbed up a small step stool to get to the eye piece. You peered into it and was amazed by what you saw. The image was not the clearest, but it was pretty evident that you were looking at Saturn because of the iconic rings. Of course you could look up better pictures of Saturn online, but seeing it for yourself made it more special. Experiencing it all with Jungkook was something you would not trade for the world. You waited for Jungkook outside after you finished.

“Wasn’t that incredible ___?! We actually saw all the rings! And it’s a pretty color! I mean it’s like a reddish brown. We can call it a rusty color because that sounds cooler...ah I can’t wait to go to the main telescope,” Jungkook grabbed your hand and bounded to the next line. Watching him get so excited was enough to make getting eaten alive by mosquitoes worth it (yeah, they never ceased their attack on you).

“Is this the best date you’ve ever been on then?” you squeezed his hand as he continued to bounce up and down. His abundant energy always amazed you, and certainly came in handy in certain situations *wink wink*. 

“Oh is this a date? What? Do you like me or something, ___?” he teased, looking down at you, “Yes, this is hands down the best date I have ever been on. Thank you for suggesting this babe,” he grabbed your other hand and pulled you in for a kiss. You weren’t fond of PDA, but you’re willing to make an exception for Jungkook. 

The wait in line lasted for about half an hour, and you wondered which celestial being this telescope was being focused on. Everything around the observing deck was kept dark to make it easier to see through the telescopes. It was also advised to not look at any phone screens because your eyes would have to readjust to the darkness afterward. You and Jungkook complied with the tip for the optimal viewing experience. Jungkook was rambling about UFO conspiracy theories when you interrupted him by pointing out the fireflies behind him. They danced in the darkness of the open air, and it was your turn to be captivated. Yes, you hated insects, but fireflies had a special place in your heart. You thought they were fairies when you were younger, and you would spend hours playing with them. Your parents would even help you catch them. The nostalgia that hit automatically put a smile on your face. 

“You’re adorable, you know that ___?” Jungkook smiled as he wrapped his arms around you, “I wish you’d look at me that way,” he pouted.

“Oh shut up Kookie. I do look at you that way, but you never notice,” you stuck your tongue at him. Jungkook laughed in response. His laughter stopped and his eyes widened when he realized you guys were next in line.

“What is this one looking at?” Jungkook asked the telescope attendant. 

“Oh, all three of these are pointed at Saturn,” he replied.

“Oh no, we waited in line for so long just to look at the same thing,” you said, shoulders sagging.

“Awesome! Since this one is the biggest, does that mean that we’ll get a better view than the other two telescopes?” Jungkook asked, his eyes twinkling once again.

“Uh, technically yes. But only slightly better, you probably wouldn’t be able to tell the difference,” the attendant replied as he let Jungkook enter.

From the way he asked, it probably didn’t bother Jungkook that he’d be seeing the same thing again. Once it was your turn, you realized the attendant was right. There wasn’t much of a difference in the quality of the image you were seeing, but it didn’t make personally seeing Saturn any less magical. 

“Seeing it a second time was super cool. Can you believe it? People a hundred years ago would have never thought they’d see Saturn with their own eyes!” Jungkook greeted you when you came out. 

“Yeah that’s all pretty dope, but I kinda wanted to see something else. Maybe some of the people who brought their own telescopes are looking at other things,” you took Jungkook’s hand and made a beeline to the amateur stargazers.

There was an interesting assortment of telescopes there. Some were big and bulky, some were sleek and aesthetically pleasing, and some just straight up looked like weapons. Multiple people were willing to let you both look through their telescopes. You both saw an additional two stars whose names you will never remember, along with seeing Saturn one last time. 

You and Jungkook stood in the middle of the deck, gazing upwards to soak in the clarity of the stars before your departure. As if the night couldn’t get any more magical, a shooting star streaked across the sky. Oohs and aahs were heard from people in the general vicinity when they saw it too. Jungkook pulled you close to him, his face inches from yours.

“You know, maybe we were lovers in a past life, because I feel like I’ve known you forever. I think you’re the most special thing in this universe. Thank you for today,” Jungkook said tenderly. 

“You’re welcome, darling. I would give you the whole world if I could,” you smiled, slowly leaning closer to him.

“For you, my dear, I’ll give you your own personal galaxy,” Jungkook practically whispered as he cupped your face and brought you in for a kiss. The kiss was the epitome of sweet, as his soft lips brushed against yours without much force. You swear you’ve never been happier in your life. Thank the stars for Jeon Jungkook.

Published September 4th, 2020. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2020 Baepsaesbae.

[daemour]

神奇 (Shénqí)

Title: 神奇 (Shénqí)

Summary: Lost in a magical forest is not what you expected. Neither was being stuck in a fairy village for the unforeseeable future. But you didn't mind it too much, especially when there was a sweet fairy willing to help you out.

Genre: Fantasy, romance, fairy au, strangers 2 friends 2 enemies 2 lovers

Pairing: Jungkook x gender neutral!reader

Word Count: 1747

Warnings: None, some sus activity from Seokjin, but nothing implying non-con because there is none lol reader loves junglebook (there’s no smut or implied smut don’t worry

Written for the @goldenclosetnetwork Jungkook’s Birthday Project!

AND thank you to @ditttiii for beta’ing@

You had never imagined that your great-great-great-grandfather would be a witch. You had always been one of the only humans able to live in a predominantly witch city. And yet there you were, in a fairy village. You didn't mean to be there. But you somehow were. Sharing a meal with a small group of fairies too. There were only seven in total, as they had left their old village to start anew.

Honest to God, you were surprised at their willingness to let you stay there. Since the forest wouldn't let you leave for a month, they graciously allowed you to live among them. You had heard from your grandfather stories about fairies that would kidnap and kill you, but maybe he was wrong. Plus, by the time he told you about the fairies, he was old, and you didn't believe in them. He must have had many bad experiences because these fairies were kind.

Namjoon was the leader of the fairies, being the only one able to speak your language fluently. The others did know some but at varying levels. Seokjin was the oldest, and the best cook. Yoongi...you actually didn't know much about him, except that he slept a lot. Hoseok was friendly and basically the sun. Jimin was sweet and kept making everyone flower crowns. Taehyung loved to sing for you. And Jungkook...

He was the youngest of the fairies, clocking in at forty years old. It seemed old to you, but that's in fairy years. In human years, he was around your age, albeit a year younger. He was sweet and naïve, always asking you questions about humans that you struggled to answer. You didn't know why you had thirty-two teeth, goddammit. But he was kind and pretty and loved to talk to you.

Even after a week of being there, the other fairies still hadn’t warmed up to you, so they didn't talk to you much. Other than Jungkook, Namjoon was the only one who had done the talking. Hoseok, bless him, tried, but he still scuttled away after a few minutes. And you don't think Yoongi had even looked your way. 

"(Y/N)! Why do you wear shoes?" Ah, another endearing question.

"To protect my feet, Kookie. I don't want to cut them or hurt while I walk." Jungkook looked satisfied, but you knew another question would be coming shortly.

"What is a soda?" There it was.

"It's like a sweet drink with bubbles in it. It's not very good for you, but it's tasty."

"Can I have one?" You laughed at him this time.

"Sorry, Jungkook. I don't carry soda around with me. Maybe once I leave, I'll come visit and bring a soda." You missed the looks the others shot you and Jungkook, but Jungkook certainly didn’t and went quiet after. The rest of the dinner was finished in silence, and you head back to your tent, which the fairies set up for you.

Like with each of their huts, the inside is larger than the outside. They gave you a bed and some kind of weird light source consisting of white glowy petals in a jar. It's simple, but you quite like the homey-ness of it. You'll miss it when you leave.

You don't understand why the forest wants to keep you here for thirty days. Even the fairies were confused, so it mustn't be something the forest usually does. You sincerely hope that the forest will be kind to you, as you've heard tales from other travelers. "(Y/N)?" A fairy is calling out for you again, and you turn to see who it is. Hoseok.

"Hey, Hoseok. What's up?" You offer a smile, and he returns it.

"Jungkook likes you. You're funny, he thinks. Since he talks, you teach him your words? Namjoon tired from translation, and I feel bad." Hoseok still doesn't enter the tent fully, but you appreciate his coming to talk to you instead of making Namjoon come too. Though, you guess, he already explained why he didn't bring the younger fairy.

"Yeah, I can do that. Thanks, Seok." You don't even know why you're thanking him, but Hoseok seems to know, giving you a small smile and exiting. You sit down on the bed and cover the bottle of light with a small cloth. You wonder how teaching Jungkook language will go.

Not good. Not to say that Jungkook isn't a good student. He is. He just asks so many questions you don't know where to start. Like why the grass is green. He's a fairy. Doesn't he know this? The first lesson was not very productive, just you answering his questions. The second lesson was much of the same, and so was the third. Jungkook learned only a little grammar. They all were just Jungkook asking questions and you answering them until the eighth lesson and second week.

"(Y/N)? What's a...marriage?" Jungkook tries out the foreign word, stuttering a little over the last syllable. What. Your surprise must have shown on your face because Jungkook immediately became even more curious. "(Y/N)?"

"Marriage is a bond between people romantically," you try to answer him as simple as possible, but Jungkook is not satisfied.

"What do you mean?" Oh shit.

"Well, um. Let's say you like someone very much, and not like your sister or brother. You want to spend eternity with them. So you marry them. You are together in death or in life."

"But why do you have to marry them?"

"What brought this up?" Jungkook shrugs.

"I heard Namjoon reading his book of words. Anyway, why do you have to marry them?"

"His encyclopedia, Jungkook. And marriage is optional, but people like the feeling, I guess. I don't really know, Jungkook."

"Can I marry you?"

"No." You answered too fast, and Jungkoook's face falls. "No, not like I don't like you, Kook. I just don't know you well enough. Plus, you're cool, beautiful, and a fairy, and I'm kinda...ugly," you try for a deprecating joke to ease the tension, but Jungkook is having none of it. His eyes narrow.

"You're always beautiful to me, you know that?" You choke, but he still stares at you.

"Thanks." You don't know how else to respond to that. "Shall we continue with the lesson?

After that eventful day, Jungkook had acted differently. He paid attention and stopped asking so many questions. He also started clinging onto you, and you were genuinely confused. Even Namjoon and the others were confused. You had everyone else come up to you when Jungkook wasn't paying attention and ask you if Jungkook was dating you. You wouldn’t mind that, but with how Jungkook is acting, you just want to know what he’s doing first instead of pursuing something romantic.

Alas, you weren't. Jungkook was just being weird. Which lead you here, asking Taehyung what was up with Jungkook.

"Hmm? Jungkook? He is being the Haekurl Gauren."

"The what?" Taehyung just shrugs. He doesn't know how to say it in your language.

"All right. Thank you, Tae. I'll ask Namjoon." You continue on your wild goose chase, until you get an answer from, not Namjoon, surprisingly. The man immediately avoided you as soon as he saw you. You got your answer from Seokjin.

"Haekurl Gauren? That's the action we make to love someone."

"What?" You stare at the unbothered fairy. "Like marriage?"

Seokjin shakes his head. "No, not human. Fairy's blood bonds. We love someone with all love, our blood is theirs. They stay with us forever. Why do you know Haekurl Gauren?"

You stare at him for a straight minute, too surprised to speak. "It's- Taehyung told me- Jungkook?" Seokjin laughs, squeaky and high-pitched.

"I know. Jungkook talks us about you."

"I can't? Jungkook is a fairy, I am a human?" You don't understand. Seokjin smiles gently, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Jungkook is a good one. He is okay. But he won’t make you do what you won’t .” His hand tightens on your shoulder. “But he will be upset, and we don’t like him upset.”

You try to shake him off, but Seokjin is unwavering. “Yes, I understand.” Seokjin is pleased, and lets you go. You quickly walk away, trying to calm your beating heart. And...here comes Jungkook, beaming like he just won the fairy lottery.

“(Y/N)!” He calls out for you, and feeling Seokjin’s eyes boring into your back, you offer him a wide smile and ruffle his hair. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“I found a fairy marriage! I asked Namjoon, he says Haekurl Gauren is the marriage!” Oh, God. You try your best to get out of this.

“But you barely know me!” Jungkook is unphased.

“No, we spent lessons together! I know you! You like strawberries, you can’t sleep without having something to hug, and you sneeze like a monster!”

“But that’s not nearly enough! Jungkook, are you serious?” Jungkook’s face starts to fall, and you can hear Seokjin start to get up.

“You don’t like me? I should’ve known.”

You start to panic, but still try to hide it. “Jungkook, I just need a little more time. It’s not a no.” He’s still unhappy, and Seokjin is getting closer. “Jungkook, please. I love you, but I need some time.”

Jungkook looks at you with watery eyes. He sniffles, and your heart breaks into pieces. You want to marry him, God, you do, but it’s just too soon. You don’t think you would be able to love him fully if you are suddenly bonded to him. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Kook, I promise. I just am unused to this sudden confession. Please, believe me. I truly do love you, but I just need a little more time to adjust.” Jungkook starts to perk back up, tears still sparkling in his eyes. You suddenly don’t regret your vague promise to marry him. If he looks like this every day, you wouldn’t mind it.

“Will the next solstice be enough time for you?” Jungkook grasps your hands in his, kissing the tips of your fingers.

Next solstice...it is currently the middle of fall, and you think you can love him within that time frame. “Yes, Kook.”

Jungkook beams up at you, and you are so caught up in his smile that you don’t notice Seokjin returning to his seat with a small nod at Namjoon. It is completely understandable, now that you have a wedding to plan.

[goldenclosetnetwork]

Officially Closed

Hey everyone! GOLDENCLOSETNETWORK is officially closed!!

Thank you once again to all the Admins and friends who helped keep GCN afloat in any way!!

A special thank you to @kkulmoon for helping me with GCN on it's last weeks 🥺💞

- Admin Yeji

[jeonchristineimnida]

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[lunar-jimin]

what are you so afraid of?; is it love wasting your time

Pairing: Jungkook x gender neutral reader

Rating: PG-15

Word Count: 0.9k

Genre: fluff with a smidge of angst, best friends to lovers

Warnings: one vague mention of sex and that’s it really, kissing ig

a/n: I wrote this short little piece in honor of Jungkook’s birthday!! The feelings both the reader and Jungkook express in this piece are feelings I’ve been dealing with lately, so it was incredibly cathartic to write it. So here’s to Kookie and the billboard 100 and a great end of 2020!

Song: What Are You So Afraid Of by Videoclub

m.list

“There you are.”

The cool night air is refreshing on your sweaty face as you climb out the window and onto the roof. Jungkook is sitting on the edge, a red solo cup forgotten in his hand as he gazes up at the stars. He turns, startled, at the sound of your voice, grin spreading across his face when he realizes it’s you.

“Here I am.”

His voice is quiet, almost inaudible over the bass from the party below. You crawl over to him.

“Party not fun?”

“Just needed a breather.”

“Ahh.”

You know Jungkook better than to believe him. Everytime he hosted a party, he ended up on his roof, with you beside him, staring at the stars. As it turns out, his birthday party was no different.

You continue to sit in silence, staring at the Milky Way stretching out before you. You feel infinitesimal in comparison to the sky above you, so small that your tiny existence barely matters in the course of things.

“I’m scared,” he whispered.

You turn to look at him, breath still within you.

“Of what?”

“Leaving,” he faces you, eyes wide and vulnerable, “I hate this town, but it’s all I’ve ever known. And my family and…”

He drifts off, staring blankly at his cup. You grab his hand, rubbing your thumb against his smooth skin.

“It’s okay,” you smile softly, “I’m scared too. But at least we have each other.”

“Yeah, we do.”

Silence fills the space between you again, and you become very aware of how warm and comforting your best friend’s hand is in your own. You are scared. Petrified. Moving away to college and leaving behind all your old friends and family was terrifying beyond belief.

But you would have him. You would have his voice singing lullabies until you drift off to sleep in his arms. You would have his laugh to brighten your day even when the sky is dark with clouds. You would have the warmth of his hugs when the world felt like it was collapsing around him. You would have him and his love.

But you were greedy and you wanted more. You wanted his kisses when you woke up in the morning. You wanted dates at movie theaters and picnics in parks. You wanted to know what he tasted like when he was happy, what he felt like under his sweatshirts, what he sounded like when he was in the throes of pleasure.

But you would never have them. You were his best friend and nothing more. No matter how many stars you wished on, he would never love you the way you completely and absolutely loved him.

“Look.” He points up at a bright spark dashes across the sky, leaping into the horizon.

“Make a wish, birthday boy.”

You watch his face as he closes his eyes, silently muttering to himself. When he opens them again, he’s staring at you with a look you can’t quite place.

“What did you wish for?”

“I can’t tell you that. Then it won’t come true.”

“Pfft, I’m your best friend, I don’t count.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re exactly the kind of person who counts.”

You roll your eyes.

“Please, Kookie? I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

Your lips curl into a pout and you try to mimic his doe eyes, but you know you’ve come nowhere near as adorable as him. Still, it’s enough for him to give in.

“Fine. I wished that the person I loved, loved me just as much as I love her.”

You perk up at this. Jungkook had never mentioned having a crush on someone, much less being in love.

“What? Who is this mystery person who has stolen your heart?”

“Come on, you have to know.”

You’re surprised. You mentally go through all the people you’ve seen Jungkook hang out with in the last year, but no one sticks out to you as someone he would be in love.

“I have no idea.”

He chuckles a little, shaking his head.

“Tae was right, you really are clueless.”

“What? What do you mean?”

He turns to look at you, eyes glancing over your face. His forehead is scrunched in contemplation. Before you fully register what’s happening, he’s leaning in until his lips are millimeters from your own. His breath is warm as it fans across his face, heart beats in sync with each other.

“It’s you dumbass.”

And then he kisses you and the world freezes in place. His lips are just as soft as you imagined. As it turns out, Jungkook tastes like home. When he feels you returning the kiss, he grasps the back of your neck pulling you closer to him until your bodies are pressed against eachother.

Joy pours through your body and tears prick in your closed eyes. He loves you. Jeon Jungkook, your stupid dork of a best friend, was in love with you. And he was kissing you like the world was ending. You briefly wonder what you had ever done in your life to deserve this.

He eventually pulls away, forehead resting against your own, soft pants dispelling from his lips.

“I love you.”

The words are just as soft as the rest of him. Tears pour out of your eyes.

“I love you too, Jeon Jungkook.”

He kisses you again, before pulling you into his arms. You let your head rest on his shoulder, finding comfort in his heartbeat. You both turn to look back up at the Milky Way.

You may both be scared of what the future holds, but at least you were in together. Together and in love.

[rkivepacks]

TITLE: rapturous memory (i want to stay in your sky like a star) Pairing: taekook/kookv/vkook (Kim Taehyung & Jeon Jeongguk) Rating: PG13 Genre: fluff, Modern Royalty AU, Prince Jungkook, University AU Word Count: 4,337 Trigger Warning/s: swearing

Disclaimer:  This work is solely from the idea of the author. Should there be similarities with the works of other respected artists are purely unintentional. This also do not reflect on the real lives of the artists portrayed in this work. Comments, suggestions and any other concerns are accepted in my inbox. Thank you!  ©  AO3/dtgloss 

NOTES: ∟ banner by @rkivepacks​ ∟ request banner here ∟ request prompt/fic here

Summary:   Jungkook may be the prince, the one who is treated highly by the society but behind the closed doors he’s a puddle for Taehyung. He’s taken care of. And he has someone to take care of.

The first class is on a second period slot, which means a bit early, but not too late. A class which entails a student waking up at seven in the morning, pushing it at eight. The ambiance is also noticeable-- sunlight seeping through the tiny spaces between royal sunscreens , hitting some of the desks and the low hum of the air conditioner as it amplifies the smell of a room that seems like it has been airtight overnight, slowly engulfing the room in cold air.

There are three people in the room. Won Ryu, Jungkook and the one sitting on the fourth row that he forgot the name of, possibly catching thirty more minutes of slumber before the room is filled with more students. Not too soon, a Gyeongyu too dressed up for a nine thirty in the morning class, in a white crisp polo and slacks arrives. Gyeongyu has in one arm a large bag of fast food and his transparent envelope in the other. A true college student.

Twenty minutes before the class starts, there are more people piling in. A man who honestly looks sleep deprived and another one who is a strong contender right after Gyeongyu-- adorned in a sweater and black skinny jeans. Jungkook continues eating his fries, secretly wiping his oil and salt stained fingers on his jeans before craning his neck to observe some people on the third and fourth rows. Said people are the two dudes that he saw coming in, except now sleep-deprived dude is more awake but is resting on the table in front, supporting his head on his arms.

Unsurprisingly, the same five people who always arrive first in class stay the same. Won Ryu, Jungkook and followed by Gyeongyu. The unknown man always in the last row continues his ritual of catching sleep in class and Jungkook almost asks why his block mate haven’t tried waking up later and then arrive just in time for the class to start but he doesn’t want to bother with some routine.

The two dudes always come together sometimes with a snack to finish quickly just before the professor arrives, sometimes blatantly eating it during class, thankfully the professor is not that opposed to it.

Midterms have passed by, still the same early birds in the class. In the first class to commence the finals season, the professor orders the class to be partnered for a reporting project.

Wonryu raises a hand to ask the professor, “Can we pick our own partner?”

Unfortunately (for Wonryu), the professor declines and mentions that pairs have been preselected. Jungkook has been partnered with one of the two dudes.

“I don’t think I’ve spoken with people in the second row. I’m Taehyung.” He introduces, observingly expanded hands in front of him.

“Jungkook.” He answers, shaking the man’s hand. He notices Gyeongyu bat an eye at them for a second before returning his attention to his own partner.

The two had immediately discussed the report. How they are going to pick a report both of them can fully understand so no one is left behind and the other thrives with more knowledge, dividing work loads and allotted time to work on it given their schedules. The first time they worked on a project was when they met in a classroom that was empty during the college break.

-Taehyung I’m in Room IS306. It’s empty so I called dibs hehe

-Jungkook Omw “So I’ve done some advanced google if you want, I picked out some topics but if you don’t like any of these, we can pick another?” Taehyung sounds unsure, afraid he might have overstepped and made decisions for the both of them.

“Sure. I was gonna do research now but let’s not waste yours.” Jungkook nods and drops his phone on the desk.

“Okay, I’m gonna airdrop you some links. This first one is the Sabbatino case.” Taehyung opens his phone, prompting his airdrop. Jungkook has his airdrop always open, making him prone to receiving random airdrops from strangers, some along the lines of a simple hello or memes. He receives the link of a safari web search from a tete <3 and snorts a laugh quietly to himself at the name.

“Did you receive it?” Taehyung asks and he nods. “Here’s the other one.” He receives another air drop of another safari web search. “This one is the Nottebohm Case.” He nods and reads the summaries.

“Have you read these cases before?” Jungkook asked.

“Not really. I just saw sugar on the first one and decided to save it.” They laugh at Taehyung’s confession.

“I think the Sabbatino case is good. Easy comprehension means I can easily pass it down to other people for me.” Jungkook replies.

“We can take that one, then.” Taehyung agrees.

The short college break only gives them half an hour and an hour left to have their lunch so the two go their separate ways. When Taehyung opens the door, he’s surprised to see Gyeongyu outside, sitting on the floor just beside the door.

“Oh sorry, do you need the room?” He asks.

“Oh no I was waiting for hi-”

“Me?” Jungkook cuts him off, as he follows Taehyung out of the door.

“Yes.” Gyeongyu nods and stands up from the cold sturdy tiled floor.

The two bid good bye to each other, Taehyung going on his way to meet a friend (possibly the other dude from the class) to have dinner.

“Are you hungry, your highness? Perhaps, would you like some sugar ?” Gyeongyu asks, almost mocking.

“You and your bugging device.”

“That’s a covert listening device, your highness.”

ȶӄ

“How was meeting with the Second Prince, you filthy witch who weasled your way to your report partner?” Jimin stabs his chicken fillet, almost threatening Taehyung with the plastic fork.

“Very well. How was yours?” Taehyung replies, smug, wiggling his eyebrows at Jimin as he animatedly takes a bite of his fillet.

“He’s doing well but not the royal blood doesn not run in his veins.” Jimin smiles sarcastically.

“You’re such a dumbass.” Jimin groans as Seokjin finally came back from asking for another serving of gravy that took too long because apparently, there’s a line, sir .

“Tell Taehyung that he’s a dumbass, hyung.” Jimin almost threatens Seokjin the same way he did to Taehyung not too long ago.

“Taehyung is a dumbass?” Seokjin replies, munching on his fries. He looks at Taehyung in question and the latter signals a cross with his arms.

“Jimin is just bitter and gay.” Taehyung squints his eyes at Jimin who pretends to stab him with a maple syrup-dripping plastic knife.

“Taehyung is being all gay pretending not to have a crush on Jungkook when he wore his skinny jeans with that borderline bdsm leather strap on one leg to class. Like to hell, who’d even think of wearing leather straps to a class?” Jimin rants.

“You did?” Seokjin asked.

“I did what?”

“I’m not repeating all of Jimin’s words so just guess which one I was pertaining to.” Seokjin shrugs.

-Jungkook Hey Taehyungie, I was bored and made a powerpoint theme. I shared it to your drive.

“He even has his number!” Jimin is in rage. “I hope the National Intelligence Service reads your messages and considers you a national threat and bans you from the palace.” He grumbles to himself.

-Taehyung Stealing my job from me, I see.

-Jungkook I was bored!! You can scrap them if you want. Nothing personal.

-Taehyung No they’re awesome. Thank you.

-Jungkook You haven’t seen them yet.

-Taehyung I did wdym

-Jungkook I haven’t sent them yet

-Taehyung Find another partner :((((

-Jungkook I was joking!!! It’s sent already “I hope you choke on your fillet.” Jimin watches as Taehyung pockets his phone.

He choked on his fillet and Jimin was more than happy to snort at him.

ȶӄ

Taehyung and Jungkook have been meeting for the reporting project at least three times every week. Their favorite meeting place is in any empty classroom but those rooms are most of the time only available during college breaks for an hour and a half. On other days, they meet at cafes that are too aesthetically pleasing for people in university to get actual work done. Like now, when Jungkook sees Taehyung in his cute little vest that seems to match the backdrop when he sat in front of it. Jungkook arrived first this time, and is munching on a cheesecake and a glass of water.

“I haven’t had lunch yet.” Jungkook speaks after swallowing it down with water, eyes following Taehyung sitting down in front of him.

“That’s ok! Me too, actually but I’m not too hungry.”

“Please order what you want, it’s on me.” Jungkook informs him and as if on queue a waitress comes near to their table.

Taehyung’s pretty sure this cafe is a self-service one.

“I can order one for myself at the counter?” Taehyung replies, tone apprehensive.

“No need! It’s also for security measures.” Jungkook explains.

Taehyung orders a choco chip cookie for himself and a large assam milk tea and Jungkook gets an iced americano for himself and while their orders are being prepared, Taehyung looks around the cafe as his laptop loads. He notices a few people from their class also in the cafe and he points it down to the reason that the cafe is located near their university and a fast wifi. Taehyung’s also glad that you can connect to the internet without ordering at least a drink (and no, tap water is not counted).

Their meetings are smooth sailing, they have delegated the tasks so if Taehyung and Jungkook could not meet for some days, they still get to function on their own and can track progress through online-sharing.

When they meet, Taehyung is almost bothered that the same guy, and sometimes two of them, are always present where they meet.

When he brought it up in a conversation with Jimin, the latter replies, “Of course you will be followed. A high profile, the second son of the royal family, second in line to the throne is sitting in a cafe with a normal person.”

And when he adds that the people he was talking about were from class, “Must be a fan turned stalker. You do it too! Except yours is consensual.” Jimin replies and Taehyung pushes Jimin on the shoulder way too hard.

The next time they meet, Taehyung and Jimin were one of the first to arrive in class, and Jungkook hasn’t been in class yet. When he did arrive, Taehyung sees two ‘fan turned stalkers’ (Jimin’s words not his) walk behind Jungkook but turns out to sit away from him. Almost on the two ends of the room.

The curiosity almost eats at him that he asks Jungkook about it on their next meet-up for their reporting class.

“You mean Wonryu and Gyeongyu?” Jungkook asks. He nods.

“They’re my bodyguards. Even if I ask to not be chauffeured around, danger always lurks in the corners and we can’t be too careless, I guess.”

Taehyung nods and seems to be in a lot of deep thoughts, mouth full of the donut he was munching on. “Wait, aren’t bodyguards supposed to wear suits or something?” Taehyung asks.

Jungkook chuckles at the question. “That will draw more attention, personally. Also they’re under disguise and also not to distract the class with the grand security stuff.”

“Grand security stuff?” Taehyung snorts.

“Yep.”

“Such big words for a prince.” Taehyung appraises.

“But what about those times I did not see them around us. Does that mean they leave you alone at times too?” He asks, more curious than the last.

“Technically, they do. Like right now, you don’t see them, but they see you.” Jungkook smiles at Taehyung.

Taehyung’s eyes widen and subtly look around, making Jungkook chuckle. “And year you, by the way.” He adds.

Taehyung wonders if he ever said something appropriate. “Just them right? Please tell them not to put me in the list of national threats.” Taehyung leans closer as he speaks. “Also, do I look good, at least?” He smirks.

“You do.” Jungkook replies, staring straight at Taehyung.

Taehyung almost freezes from drinking and stops himself from choking. “For them?” He asks after a beat of silence.

“For me.” Jungkook answers before pushing the donut closer to Taehyung. “Eat up and let’s finish the power point.”

ȶӄ

When Taehyung gets back to the dorm, out of his mind creating different scenarios, he looks around to see if he was being followed. He checks if he’s bugged although he remembers he does not actually know what a bugging device looks like.

When he got back to the dorm, the first thing he does is text Jungkook.

-Taehyung I have a question!! I have a question, your majesty.

-Jungkook Were you perhaps texting me so formally because you think the NIS reads my messages?

-Taehyung I am humbly asking, your majesty.

-Jungkook You’re making me laugh so hard today. But no they’re not. They can but they’re not.

-Taehyung That was not the question, actually. I was gonna ask why you told me they can see me???

-Jungkook That is a national security matter, Taehyung.

-Taehyung I am sorry, your majesty. My family will not take my death lightly, please forgive me.

-Jungkook You wound me!! Let’s just say they planted a bugging device on me and on places I come in and out in.

-Taehyung I don’t think I will let you come to my dorm, Jungkook.

-Jungkook I already know your address, Taehyung

-Taehyung I am sorry!!!! NIS PLEASE I AM SORRY JUNGKOOK????

ȶӄ

The next day the sound of the doorbell reverberates around the living room. The first thought that comes to Taehyung’s mind is I hope it’s not Hoseok hyung realizing we have not returned the electric mixer yet because I’m sure Jimin saw one of the apparatus fall apart while in use. the second is he realizes their friends don’t usually knock to ask for permission to enter their dorm. Knocking is only to let the others know they’ve arrived. He’s waiting for Hoseok hyung to barge in but to no avail, he ended up going to the door after the knocking repeats.

Hoseok hyung is not at the door. Jungkook is. And with three bodyguards (in suits!!!).

“Hi hyung.” Jungkook has the audacity to grin as if he does not have 0.7 percent of the population of NIS in front of his door.

“Hello?” Taehyung seems lost in his own turf.

“Good morning, Mr. Kim. Please allow us to scout and secure the place, strictly for protocol.” The suit guy speaks to him.

“Oh? Ah, yes.” He moves to the side and allows the three men enter and two more men emerge he did not even know were also present in the first place.

“Mr. Kim. Is this your bedroom locked?” One of the guards asked.

“That’s my roommate, he’s still asleep but he’s harmless.” He explains and Jungkook chuckles.

“Area is secured.” The security dude spoke into what Taehyung guessed is a microphone and informs the rest that Jungkook had entered his dorm.

“Why are you here, Jungkook? After threatening me over text?” Jungkook laughs and snorts a threaten at Taehyung.

“I’m here to ask you to join me for brunch, actually.” Jungkook says.

Taehyung gestures for Jungkook to sit on the sofa and looks at the guards that stayed inside his dorm. He wondered if he should have the decency to ask them to sit but figures they prefer to stand up and he’s not about to take away the guards’ attention away from their job.

“And you did not just text me?” Taehyung replies, sitting in front of Jungkook.

“Boring.” Jungkook shrugs. “I also don’t want NIS to read my messages and gossip off about my dates.” He adds.

Dates?

Can Jimin wake the fuck up so someone can be at the receiving end of his suffering?

“Dates?” He voices out.

“I mean, it happened before. I don’t know if you’ve read the article.” Jungkook replies nonchalantly.

“No, I mean-” Taehyung figures Jungkook won’t actually be giving him the answer he was looking for and looks around.

He hopes these bodyguards were trained to not laugh at his face if he does something stupid.

“I’m gonna take a shower.” He stands up and runs to his room, slamming it too loud. After a few seconds he peaks out of his room, “Please watch whatever you like. We have netflix, your majesty.” He bows mockingly at Jungkook before closing his door.

Jimin better be awake after.

ȶӄ

Jimin did wake up while he was getting ready in his room. He gets a slap because as per Jimin’s words. “The first person I saw was the bodyguard and I almost hit him!” He rants and continues on to explain that he saw Jungkook sitting on their sofa, leaning close to the right arm rest and when he spotted Jimin’s shocked expression, he stands up to greet and waves.

“What did you do to Jimin?” Taehyung asks as he emerges from his room.

“I waved?” Jungkook replies, head tilted to the side feigning confusion.

“He was blaming me for possible public indecency charges.”

“He was wearing boxers?” Jungkook shrugs before muttering a sorry .

ȶӄ

The whole week after that incidence (for Jimin at least), Jimin has been ordering Taehyung around as an accessory to public indecency . He knows even without that happening Jimin would be ordering him around.

Today he’s been sent out to get snacks. He gets one for himself too and gets another iced americano for Jungkook.

Taehyung and Jimin arrived first again in class, before Jungkook. He hopes he doesn’t come in too late so the coffee is not too watered down. He berates himself for ordering too early and told himself he should have just gotten one when he’s assured that Jungkook’s almost there at least.

Jungkook arrives five minutes later, with Wonryu, wondering if Gyeongyu is still outside the room or completely absent. He’s stopped calling them two dudes or bodyguards after being informed of it.

“Jungkook! Here’s coffee for you.” He takes Jungkook’s hand to guide it into holding the cold coffee.

“Oh, thank you, Taehyung.” Jungkook looks at Taehyung, and he wonders if Taehyung can see the expression in his face is genuine awe.

Jungkook keeps his hand over Taehyung’s and has no intentions of letting it go anytime soon.

“No problem! It’s your favorite.” Taehyung gulps, and retreats his hand softly from Jungkook before patting him on top of his head and returning to his seat.

If Gyeongyu arrives later with an iced americano, not for him as he does not like coffee, he pretends as if he can stomach the bitter drink. If the drink was actually for Jungkook, Taehyung does not need to know that.

ȶӄ

-Jungkook Good morning Taehyung. I’ll be there in thirty!

-Jungkook I hope Jimin is awake and ‘decent’ this time.

-Taehyung Good to know your day is doing fine. May I ask why you’re gonna be here in thirty?

-Jungkook Picking you up?

-Taehyung Were you perhaps kicked out of the royal family so now you’re trying to weasel your way into our dorm?

-Jungkook My family loves me just fine. And you?

-Taehyung If my family loves me? Yes

-Jungkook If you love me just fine.

-Jungkook I’m outside!!

Taehyung barges into Jimin’s room to jump onto the latter, scaring him awake with the sudden intrusion in his room and of his sleep by a screaming Taehyung. The weird screeching that must be coming off Taehyung gradually increases before it dies down, matched by a beat of punches to the comforter that actually covers Jimin’s thighs and it hurts thank you very much

Standing up, clearing his throat and his disheveled hair and clothes, Taehyung looks Jimin in the eyes and says, “I’m leaving.” and slams the door on his way out.

ȶӄ

Taehyung confronts Jungkook about it one time, after that strew of messages and upon receiving more.

He’s also talked to Jimin and their circle of friends knowing they can be trusted.

“He probably is clickbaiting you into joining the royal family and cover up their secrets.” Yoongi says.

“What is this the Last Empress?” Jimin snorts.

“If Taehyung ends up dead in the lake you are all gonna regret not listening to me.” Yoongi boasts.

“That was the second to the last empress, the last empress did not die.” Jimin mutters and adds a dumbass that Yoongi probably heard and Jimin probably intended for Yoongi to hear.

Taehyung sips on his milk tea and waits for the two to realize he needs actual help and his life might be in danger.

The last one is an exaggeration but still.

“Then ask him, Tae. What could go wrong?”

ȶӄ

This is wrong.

Everything could, indeed, go wrong. Taehyung thinks.

In front of him Jungkook has not stopped smirking and bursting into chuckles and down right laughing at him. They were at the cafe they went in before that is too aesthetically pleasing to have people actually concentrate on their work.

He wishes they could have met in his dorm so he can slap Jungkook.

He also wishes his big mouth knows when to close by itself.

“Stop laughing!” Taehyung slaps the table in front, making the drinks trinkle and Jungkook has the audacity to laugh as if Taehyung’s words were his queue.

“Wait, that was a serious question?” Jungkook asks and when Taehyung doesn’t bat an eye, “Okay, I’m sorry.” He clears his throat and acts as if he’s been pinched on the side for being naughty.

“I was just asking if you were serious. You didn’t have to laugh at me.” Taehyung prompts his elbows on the table, leaning his face on his hands as he sips on his drink and rolls his eyes at Jungkook.

He’s pouting. He’s pouting and he’s cute and I am a grown up man. It should not be a big deal, Jungkook thinks.

“You are so oblivious.” Jungkook says instead.

“You are oblivious! How dare you laugh at my feelings?” Taehyung pouts more and Jungkook chuckles before reaching out to pinch Taehyung’s cheeks.

“So, do you love me?” Jungkook says instead, eyes mischievous.

Taehyung blinks at him and obnoxiously shows that he is in fact about to ignore Jungkook.

ȶӄ

Jungkook walks Taehyung to his dorm and even gets to step foot inside. (Jungkook and his bodyguards who are currently outside the dorm walked Taehyung to his dorm.)

“Excuse me, your majesty.” Jimin bows too elegantly that Taehyung snorted a laugh before stopping himself. Jimin sends him a glare that tells a lot. One of them is Shut the fuck up .

“Your highness,” Jimin starts. “Will this be a normal occurrence? We just want to have our humble abode ready for your presence to not embarrass ourselves.” Jimin continues, glaring still at Taehyung.

“If Taehyung agrees then yes.” Jungkook says instead.

“Taehyung does agree. He’s just shy. He loves his men blue-blooded” Jimin answers instead and Taehyung gasps and mouths a no I don't.

“It’s late, I don’t want to bother you guys.” Jungkook gestures to leave and Taehyung turns to him, finally.

“Be safe, your highness, Jungkook.” Jimin bows one more time before returning to his room.

“I don’t have blue blood, but I was serious if you were still wondering.” Jungkook pecks Taehyung on the cheeks, “Good night, Taehyung.” Jungkook smooths a hand down Taehyung’s arm before leaving through the front door. Leaving a Taehyung gaping at nothing in the middle of their dorm.

ȶӄ

The next morning they meet in class, Jimin was holding two drinks in his hands -- one for himself and Jungkook’s iced americano. Taehyung ran to the rest room just before entering the room altogether because according to him, “Gonna save some steps for myself, thank you.”

When they get to the room, Jungkook was already in his place and Jimin continues his steps to where the former is but before he can do that, Taehyung snatches the drink and gives it to Jungkook, “Even if you bully me.” Taehyung says as he handed out the drink.

Staring at Taehyung’s outstretched hand, he reaches for the drink. “Thank you, they were delicious.” Jungkook smiles sweetly at Taehyung and the latter smiles back.

Jimin walks to his seat, muttering a he did not even taste it yet. Dumbass. He then remembers Taehyung saying that the room might have security cameras for Jungkook and slaps his hand over his mouth, reprimanding himself for calling Jungkook a dumbass.

ȶӄ

Jimin almost wishes they installed security cameras in their dorms, too.

He turns around from his place at the kitchen table to look at the really disgusting couple on their couch, Taehyung giving kisses to Jungkook’s cheeks.

If there were cameras, they would see how much of a dumbass Jungkook is for his best friend and yes, he will proudly call Jungkook a dumbass.

Some days, the two hang out in Jungkook’s apartment. The place obviously has more security and surveillance is up to the nines. They know they can’t magically send away the security or be dumb like those people in movies that try to send away the body guards only to be put in danger minutes later.

He watches Jungkook rest his back on Taehyung’s chest as they pretend to watch the movie when he knows they were just waiting for the right time to go to Taehyung’s room.

Dumbasses.

Jungkook may be the prince, the one who is treated highly by the society but behind the closed doors he’s a puddle for Taehyung. He’s taken care of. And he has someone to take care of.

Taehyung is also the only person that can reprimand Jungkook like a child sometimes.

Most importantly, Taehyung is the only one who can love Jungkook the way Jungkook loves him back.

[hansolmates]

[teaser] a hero’s journey (m)

summary; jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story pairing; jungkook x editor!reader (f) genre/warnings; best friend’s boyfriend au, slice of life, angst with a happy ending because im weak, pining pINING, everyone’s kind of a mess in their own sweet special way, alcohol use, mentions of ze weed, toxic relationships, mean friends, sex—slight dom!kook, food play, fingering, squirting, heavy use of the petname “pretty girl” bc im weak, manhandling (oop!) w.c; est. 25k a/n; woof! my first fic for @goldenclosetnetwork​ 23 | jungkook’s birthday project! this goes out to all the closet romantics *ahem me cough* who doesn’t love pining between a cutie koo? a huge thank u for vivi @eerieedits​ for making this bbbBEAUTIFUL fic banner!  

prompt used: “I should’ve known.”

click under the cut for a saucy snippet! will be released this friday @5PM EST!

He brings breakfast over to the table, while Jisoo places two slices of toast on his plate, one buttered and one with strawberry preserves. Breakfast is a quiet, but peaceful affair. Jungkook takes note of how Jisoo takes extra long to complete her meal, her fork creating ribbons in her little blob of magenta jam. He allows himself to complete his first hashbrown and a slice of toast before asking the difficult question. 

“Are you and y/n okay?” and he also takes note when Jisoo’s ministrations on her jelly stop, as she looks up at him with her big brown eyes. 

“We’re fine,” she insists, “just normal roommate issues, I promise.” 

“Maybe I should text y/n,” Jungkook says, pulling out his phone. “Lemme help you fix this, wouldn’t want you and her in a bad place when you’re about to move out.” 

“Baby, why are you so concerned about y/n?” Jisoo croons while his thumb hovers over your contact, his screen showing a two-year old selfie you two took during a study session early on in your friendship. He can’t remember the last time you two took a picture together out of spite, one without Jisoo. Jisoo’s hand pulls him away from his phone, rubbing small circles between his palm. 

He wants to ask, why aren’t you? But he sees the terseness in Jisoo’s smile, as her eyes fix between the interlocked fingers. He has a feeling he’s hovering somewhere he isn’t allowed to be in. Maybe it really is roommate stuff and it’s none of his business, but he feels a little insulted being left out because you and Jungkook are just as much best friends as you were in college. 

Or are you? 

This question plagues him throughout the day, and when Jungkook packs enough boxes for the weekend and says he needs to go home, Jisoo for once doesn’t argue. Normally Jisoo would cling to him like a koala, murmur simultaneously adorable and dirty things in his ear and lead him to her bedroom to coop up for hours on end. But Jisoo says she’s tired and needs some alone time, which is also fine. 

He doesn’t feel like going home, and instead heads straight to the gym. A couple pumps wouldn’t hurt, and it would clear his head. It’s nearly five in the evening when his body is thrumming with the afterglow of his post-workout, and he decides to take a little cool down in the mall and treat himself to a smoothie. 

It must be kismet when he sees you coming out of the bookstore, looking a little winded but no less professional in your beige blazer set and rose gold iPad. Whenever he hung around your apartment with Jisoo and you’d come home from work, he’d make it a point to acknowledge your plethora of multicolored skirt-suits. He never needs to be professional in his place of work, and admires how much effort you put in. 

“Hey!” he jogs up to you, and he catches the way your shoulders jump at his voice. “We missed you today.”

Your smile curls into something dry, and you twist your spine like rusty hinges to face him. In turn, his smile dims a little, wondering if he’s doing something wrong.

[btswritingcafe]

Welcome to our fourth installment of Coffeehouse Times!

This monthly segment serves as a means to inform our members, readers and followers about any current activities that keep the café bubbling. We hope to keep you updated and hopefully you will feel encouraged to join in on the appropriate activities.

Please read below the cut to see what’s going on in the network!

CAFE PROJECTS

Running a great cafe and making good coffee is only possible if you have the right process and resources. The admins of BTS Writing Cafe believe that thanks to our amazing members we are able to accomplish both. Henceforth we want to keep highlighting the people that make sure our cafe remains as vibrant as it is. Keep reading to find more about our current projects and how you can join them!

First off, we would like to give a big welcome to our newest members:

@honeyj00ns ☕️ @bweui ☕️ @virgoknj ☕️ @nochuwrites ☕️ @whaliensgalaxy ☕️ @starshapedkookie ☕️ @pradaksj ☕️ @daydreamindollie ☕️ @softykooky ☕️ @whipped-for-kpop-fics ☕️ @12anyone ☕️

We are so glad to have you join the café, and we look forward to seeing all of the amazing orders we know you will create.

The café is currently hosting a number of projects. If you are interested in joining any of them then keep reading.

Disney Collaboration

In this collab we want to challenge the network’s writers to write a fic that’s inspired by any disney fairytale you wish to use. You, as a writer, choose how much you want to deviate from the original plot to create something entirely new. The collab has no deadlines whatsoever, henceforth you do not have any specific time frame to refer to. This is created for members of the network within our discord chat, want to join us? Apply to join the cafe!

Find the masterlist here. 

Daily Grind

For the month of August, the café had the opportunity to interview one of our members: @hhyungz​. She happily shared her writing process as well as inspiration for fics. Make sure to check out her responses here. If you as a member of the network wish to participate in this segment click  here to be redirected to a more detailed post.

Author Appreciation

The café wants all less appreciated fics to get the love they deserve! Henceforth do not hesitate  both as readers and writers or members and non-members to submit your favorite fics with less than 250 notes. If you wish to partake in it, click here to be redirected to a more detailed post.

Prompt Team

Do you enjoy coming up with scenarios and prompts that are perfect for writing into a fic? If so, feel free to join as a member to help keep this network growing in support of one another! Check out the rules here.

Coffeehouse Chats

Do you like reading fics and living uplifting comments to the writers? If so, feel free to join our discord chat, where readers discuss and review the great works of our network’s writers.To apply to a part of the Coffeehouse Chats simply click here.

Fic Favorites of the Month

Every month three of the admins read the fics of authors who haven’t yet been a part of a monthly favorite list. At the end of the month the admins’ thoughts and feedback are posted for our followers and the concerned writers to read. If you wish to know more about our fic favorites for the month of June click here

Promptly Yours Collaboration

This collab is open to members and nonmembers to use some of the admin’s favorites from our prompt lists. Using what our network members have previously created, writers applied for the specific scenario that they would like to create content for. The completed masterlist will be posted in October!

Jeongguk’s Birthday Celebration

This collab is hosted by our affiliate @goldenclosetnetwork​ in which members from our network (as well as many others) have the opportunity to choose from a list of prompts. Using these prompts, writers are able to create something special in honor of Jeongguk’s birthday! 

Find the masterlist here. 

Thank you for taking the time to read our third Coffeehouse Times! Please look forward to next month’s edition. We hope to dive further into so many other amazing projects that further support our writers.

Credit goes to the stunning Amai @kkulmoon​ for creating our header for this segment! Send her all the love!

[1kook]

Hello!! Sorry to bother u but where was the jungkook birthday project thing? I want to see who else is doing it🥺

it’s over at @goldenclosetnetwork !!!!

[yeojaa]

                         ❪  💜  FOLLOW FOREVER :  ❫  aka i hit a milestone ! 

sometimes, writing can be hard.  it can be frustrating and slow and just overall not the most fun.  but sometimes?  often times?  it’s rewarding as all hell.  and that’s because of the people you reach and the friends you make.  so this is just a little thank you!  to the people that have supported me and inspired me.  i would not be here without you.  xx

@keywepie​ :  fanny, you keep me going.  really and truly!  i bounce so many ideas off of you and you give me so many back.  your constant support has really helped me keep at it and i cannot say thank you enough.  also, your fic reblogs?  chef’s kiss! 

@heartsandwheels​ @hobi-gif​ :  firstly, you are the so supportive.  secondly, you are so friendly.  thirdly, i am so grateful for you.  from your excellent fic recs (seriously, i will never be lacking in the reading department) to your reliable feedback?  i appreciate it all so much. 

@staeberrie​ @jooniecult​ :  i love your work sm.  you’re honestly a huge inspiration to me because i want to be able to one day write like you.  also, you’re hilarious and cracky and the taeconda is coming for you.  :l 

@kookiesjoonies​ :  alex, you’re incredible.  it’s true because it’s a legitimate tag on my blog.  everything you put out is so fun (or painful, tbh) and interesting and i love every single minute of it.  you’re genuinely a huge inspo to me.  

@jinsearthh + @parkminhee :  we don’t chat very much but having you in my corner is one of the best feelings.  i cannot begin to express my gratitude for your consistent support.  

special shout-out to those i haven’t had the courage to speak to but who continue to blow me away with their phenomenal work.  if you’re listed here, you have in some way been a motivation to me and you deserve all the recognition in the world!  @xjoonchildx @1kook @fortunexkookie @gukslut @ddaenggtan @softguks @hobiance @jamaisjoons @luxekook @jeonscript @ppersonna @junqkook @readyplayerhobi @gimmesumsuga @johobi @bymoonchild

lastly, i cannot forget the wonderful networks i am a part of.  every piece of work published/associated with @goldenclosetnetwork​, @ficswithluv​, and @heartsforbtsnet​ are special in their own way.  you can not go wrong with any of the authors associated.