#her eye is all kinds of fucked up because her retina detached years ago and she’s had so many surgeries since

[dreamyjoons]

heartbreak trials // jjk

⇢ it all started with a bet: the one with the highest body count would get the most illustrious prize - Namjoon’s bedroom. For you and Jungkook, the race was on.

Genre/warnings: angst, smut! roommate!au, sex talks, best friend & fwb!Jimin, very background Namjin, swearing, alcohol use & drunkenness, creepy/pushy guy at a bar, oral (m & f recieving), fingering, unprotected sex, a creampie thing (lmao sorry), overstimulation, snarking constantly I can’t stop it

Words: 13.8k

A/N: In celebration for Jungkook’s birthday, enjoy this baby. I hope you all like it. Thank you to the incredible underthejinfluence for the support, suggestions and letting me complain regularly lmao.

“I swear, one of these days I'm gonna kill him.”

You throw yourself over the arm of the couch, letting your head flop on Namjoon’s knee. You sigh and pout up at him, waiting for him to pay you attention.

He casually ignores you, thumbing through the book in his hand. Another louder sigh passes your lips. Namjoon rolls his eyes, hastily dropping the bookmark in his hand between the pages. Once the closed book sits neatly in his lap, he turns his unimpressed gaze on you.

“What’s he done now?”

“He brought someone else home last night. Which is fine” -noting Namjoon’s raised eyebrow- “but Jungkook always seems to pick the loud ones.”

“I see. But do you not think he’s getting back at you?”

You sit bolt upright and spin, fully focused on Namjoon. Sure, you and Jungkook had some weird… thing going on when it came to having hookups in the house. Sometimes it felt a little premeditated. But you didn’t hate each other enough to have that kind of rivalry. Not that you thought so, anyway.

“For what?”

“When you brought home that guy from work who yelled the whole time you both fu-”

“Yes, your point?” You rush, ignoring the heat creeping across your face.

“Kook had an exam the next day.” Namjoon shrugged, his fingers idly teasing the edge of his book.

“That? That was last year Joonie! he’s graduated already!” You yelp, throwing up your arms for good measure.

“Yeah, but you never apologised.” You splutter at his quiet words, a Jungkook-shaped rage beginning to simmer inside you.

“Did he apologise when that devil ex of his put her thong in my bedroom? Or when that other crazy bitch tried to punch a hole through our connected wall-“

“Oh Sana? I thought you’d like her.” Jungkook smirks, strolling into the living area.

You jolt as he swaggers into the room, messy hair falling into his eyes. Wearing yet another all black ensemble, he casually strides to the sofa and sits himself between you and Namjoon, shimmying in the spot for good measure.

“What do you think?” You snap, scooting as far away from the demon as possible.

“Oh, I'm not interrupting, am I?” He smirks at you, brown eyes glittering with mischief.

“Always-“

“You’re fine, Jungkook. Actually I’ve been meaning to talk to you both.” Namjoon says gently, leaning forward to place his book on the table before turning to face you both. You and Jungkook both forcibly break your tense glare at each other to turn to Namjoon.

“I finally have a date for when I move in with Seokjin.” He smiles, his little dimple flashing on his face.

“Congrats, man!” Jungkook grins, slapping a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder.

“That’s amazing, Joonie. I bet you’re both so excited.” You smile, warmth spreading through you. It had been a long time coming - two bean poles who annoy each other constantly but found each other made your heart swell.

“We can’t wait, but that leads me to something about here. Obviously this was originally my flat, so I’m gonna pass it to you both. But it’s listed under my master bedroom.” He stops, taking a second to collect his thoughts. “So you both need to decide between you who’s going to have my room.”

An uneasy glance passes between you and Jungkook, a chill descends upon the room.

Namjoon’s room was not only nearly the size of yours and Jungkook’s room combined, but it also had an ensuite bathroom. It was prime real estate, and there was no way you were going to pass that up.

“I’ll have it-”

“Me!”

You both shout before another deadly glare passes between you. His eyebrows knit as he stares at you, but you’re not intimidated. You never are by Jungkook. He was a bunny! And apparently he banged like one-

“No way Jungkook, I deserve it! I’ve had to listen to you one-stroke wonder for nearly two years now-“

“Not a chance, Y/N! If I have to listen to you fake another orgasm I swear-”

“Fake? Fake?!” You splutter, heat surging to your face as you gawp at the floppy-haired idiot.

“Oh please, I’ve had to listen to you enough to know when you’re putting it on, which sounds like it happens regularly.” He shrugs, flicking his hair out of his eyes before smirking over at you.

“What makes you an orgasm expert?” You scoff.

“Oh baby, I know how to give an orgasm or three.”

You splutter and try to play it off as a cough, but Jungkook grins triumphantly. Namjoon loudly clears his throat, shuffling to the edge of the couch to give you both a meaningful stare.

“I’ll be out of here by the end of next week, but the contract will be changed in just under a month.” Namjoon gets to his feet, tucking his book under his arm. “You both have until then to decide.”

You stare at each other, sizing the other one up.

“I don’t care who takes the room as long as nothing gets broken in the inevitable fight you both are gonna have. Now, goodnight.” He smiles, before ducking out of the room. You and Jungkook both sit in silence until you hear his door shut.

You’d known each other for a year or two - you’d moved in with Namjoon after graduating after seeing an ad for a room. Jungkook had moved in three months after, having needed a place for his final year of college. That had been almost a year ago, and things were a lot different.

It wasn’t that you didn’t get on - you did. Most of the time. But there had been this strange atmosphere between you which had resulted in a weird competition; namely who can have the most sexual partners. Or in Jungkook’s case, the loudest.

“Obviously we both want the room.” He states, and you force yourself not to roll your eyes so hard your retinas detach.

“Yeah.”

“So how about we come up with a fair way to battle it out?” He asks, his full attention on you.

“Like what?” You ask, but he merely shrugs, hiding behind his hair slightly.

“I dunno. But we need a fair competition, because neither of us are gonna with over an argument.”

“I mean, I probably would-”

“No. Let's do this somewhat fairly.” He asserts, raising an eyebrow at you. You huff, but finally nod.

“Fine, but I can veto it if it’s a stupid idea.” You counter, holding out a hand.

He reaches out and takes your hand in his, gripping it as you shake hands, finalizing your agreement. You both break apart, sinking into separate ends of the couch.

“It’s gonna be weird without Joon being here.” Jungkook says quietly, and you nod at his words.

“Who’s gonna burn all our food and break up our fights now?” You smile, a genuine ache seeping its way into your chest.

Jungkook lets out a small chuckle, running a hand through his hair as he looks around the room. So much of Namjoon’s personality was in that place. The book titles with too many words strewn about the pace, the huge, earthy blankets laid over nearly every surface. The one bonsai he trusts you and Jungkook not to kill sitting proudly in the window. It was cosy, and completely Namjoon.

A silence settles over you, the air palpably thick.

You drag your eyes back to Jungkook, and find his eyes on you. They’re gentle but probing, like he’s trying to read your deepest thoughts. You nervously drag your lip between your teeth, heat flashes across your face as his eyes follow the motion.

And there it was. The deep ache in your stomach whenever you’re alone together, or when he creeps into your thoughts every day. You could never dwell on it, because you and Jungkook in any other context but roommates wasn’t something you could see. The risk of a broken heart is something you couldn’t handle, so you avoided it at all costs.

You push yourself to your feet, needing fresher air to fill your lungs. His bright eyes widen at your movements, following your every move.

You stare back at him, hair pushed back out of his face, mouth parted as he watches you, hands resting on his muscled thighs.

“Got work tomorrow, gonna get an early night rightokaybye-” you rush, darting around the couch and heading to your bedroom.

You shut the door and lean against it, tipping your head back against the wood. You take a deep breath and slip into autopilot, changing and climbing into bed, trying to clear your mind of Jungkook and his smile. And those thighs.

— —

Staggering through the front door, you kick your shoes off and slam your keys onto the little key rack Namjoon excitedly hung a month ago. You push the thought aside, not wanting to deal with the sadness of Joon moving out today.

Dragging your feet, you moan as you stumble into the kitchen and throw yourself on one of the island chairs, slumping into the counter.

“Fucking managers… ‘we need you to file these before you clock out’... yeah well file my fist into your face, asshats…” you mumble into the counter, the cool granite seeping into your forehead.

“Rough day?” A tinkling voice greets you, and you lift your heavy head to stare at Jungkook, half in the fridge with a banana milk in his hand, wiping some escaped liquid around his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

“... have you been there the whole time?”

“Yeah. Work sucked, then?” He asks, closing the fridge and leaning on the counter, head in his hands as he looked at you. You blink stupidly at him, his big eyes sucking you in.

“Uh… yeah. Yeah, it was crappy.” You rush, before slamming your head back down on the counter, letting the cool seep into your burning face.

This is why you prefered arguing with Jungkook. Fighting him was easy. Because when you’re not being snarky and insulting each other, he has the stars in his eyes when he talks to you and you become a stuttering mess.

“You need to blow off some steam.” You can hear the smile in his voice, and you pick your head up to look at him.

“Yeah, by taking the bubbliest bath ever and sleeping until next January.”

“Nope, you know what I mean.” He winks, and you roll your eyes at him.

“Thanks, but no. I’m not in the mood.”

“Awh, don’t think you could get it?”

“Please. I can pull way more people than you, Jungkook.”

“I doubt that, Y/N. I mean, look at me.” He gestures to himself, and you focus on keeping your eyes fixed firmly in his face. You weren’t going to follow those gorgeous hands-

“Whatever. Keep dreaming.”

“Wanna bet on it?”

“Bet?”

“Yeah, say, one the one with the highest body count gets Namjoon’s bedroom?”

“I dunno Jungkook, that sounds like a lot of work. And shaving.”

“You haven’t got to shave. Or are you just looking for an excuse?” He smirks at you, eyebrows wagging.

“... how long would it have to be for?”

“Until we have to sign the contract for the room, right? Namjoon said less than a month, so let’s say… three weeks.”

You flick your eyes over him, weighing him up.

It would be a lie if you weren’t tempted. Both you and Jungkook had a … colourful sexual history, which seems especially ramped up with your unspoken competition over the last year. There was a chance you could win, but no one could resist Jungkook - you often wonder how you’ve lasted so long.

But then again, Namjoon’s room did have a shower with amazing water pressure.

“You’re on.” You grin, holding out your hands.

Jungkook reaches across the counter and takes your hand in his, shaking excitedly. He pulls back over the counter and gives you a bunny smile, eyes practically sparkling.

“Don’t we need some rules or something?” You ask, and his smile drops as he groans.

“No? It’s sex, there’s no rules.”

“Oh come on, stuff like using dating apps, and, I dunno, lying about our number.” You frown, waiting for his reaction.

“Why would I lie?” He asks, genuine concern crossing his face. A twinge of guilt settles in you, and you have to admit: Jungkook may be a lot of things, but he’s never been a liar.

“Fine, fine, I know you won’t. But we need to talk some things through.”

A fierce discussion and a lot of colourful words later, you both agree to some tentative terms for your competition.

“Okay, so. One, no dating or hook-up apps, we have to do this the old fashioned way. Two, we can’t interfere with each other when we’re trying to get laid-“

“Ugh, can you not say it like that?” You groan, sinking back into your chair.

“Okay - when we’re trying to bump uglies-“

“No-“

“Three, we can sleep with the same people, but more than once doesn’t count. Failing to do any of this will mean we forfeit.”

“Right. And once we’re done we note it down on…” you pause, getting to your feet and walk to the fridge.

You take off the magnetic white board and scrub it clean. You draw a line down the middle, and put your and Jungkook’s name on either side of the line.

“Namjoon’s gonna be pissed that you got rid of his cleaning rota.”

“Shut up. We tally it here.” You tap the board for emphasis.

“Done. So are we starting now?” He asks, but you shake your head. It wasn’t enough that work had worn you out, but now the exhaustion from the conversation and the task ahead of you was threatening to totally wipe you out.

“Nope, too tired. You’re not gonna have an advantage over me like that Jungkook. Tomorrow.” You assert, getting to your feet.

He stares at you for a moment, assessing. A soft look passes his face - a glimmer of something. But it vanishes instantly.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” He says gently, his eyes fixed on you.

“I want to, Kook. I’m gonna win that bedroom and sing in my shower all the time. I’ve got this.” You grin. He watches you for a moment before his demeanour changes, slipping back to the bubbly Jungkook you’re so used to and grinning at you.

“Keep dreaming, Y/N.” He smiles, before picking up what’s left of his banana milk and chugging it. You roll your eyes and walk away, your bed calling your name.

“Good luck getting someone to sleep with you when you have banana breath. Night Jungkook.” You call over your shoulder.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

You walk through your door and shut it behind you, finally letting yourself sag on your bed. You stare at the ceiling, the bet ticking through your brain.

It was probably dumb, but competition with Jungkook was always interesting, and it had been a while since you’d had some action. At least you could find someone to distract you, and get a nice bedroom out of it.

You wearily get to your feet, changing out of your work clothes and into pajamas. Then, after a second’s thought, you tidy your room just a little. If you’re gonna have company, you may as well be presentable.

Finally you drop into your bed, bone weary but mildly excited. Time to get up on the saddle, and show Jungkook who’s the real cowboy.

— —

Your blissful sleep is interrupted by a dull thudding, one that seemed to get louder and louder. You vaguely register it coming from the wall you share with Jungkook, but you were desperately trying to cling to the remaining tendrils of sleep. A grunt meets your ears, and you realise something wasn’t right. Groggily you open your eyes, the rude awakening souring your mood already.

“Jungkook! Fuck…” you hear a faint whine and you freeze.

You hear a few more thumps until reality hits you. Throwing yourself from your bed, you grab your phone and storm out to the kitchen. Namjoon sits at the kitchen counter, sipping his coffee calmly. Thankfully you couldn’t hear the smut from here, so you sink into the seat next to him, planting your forehead onto his shoulder.

“Take me with you to live with Jin, I beg of you.”

“You started this, Y/N. Never make a bet with Jungkook on anything! The boy will stop at nothing to win.” He sighs, placing his coffee down.

You sit bolt upright and glare at him suspiciously. He blushes a little, but he meets your gaze.

“How do you know about the bet?” You ask, forehead creased.

“I’m very smart, I tend to know things.”

“... Jungkook told you.”

“Yeah Jungkook told me.” He laughs. “He waited for me to get home and told me.”

“Why would he do that?” You frown.

“Oh, uh…” he flusters. “He- he just wanted to give me a heads up.”

“Okay… well whatever, I’m not gonna be beaten.” You mumble, picking up your phone and scroll through your recent messages.

“That doesn’t sound good.” Namjoon says under his breath, but you decidedly ignore him.

You find the number you’re looking for and shoot a quick text before locking your phone. You grin at Namjoon as you stand up, grabbing a glass of water and chugging it.

“Gotta go prep, have fun at wo-”

You're cut off by the door of Jungkook’s room opening, and you and Namjoon spin in unison. Out totters a relatively familiar girl, and you recognise her as one of Jungkook’s usual hookups. He walks her past you both to the door, his hand hovering in the small of her back as he leads her out. You move your gaze to Namjoon who looks between the both of you, frowning.

After a brief murmur, the front door shuts and Jungkook saunters back into the room, a small grin on his face. You flick your eyes up to him and see that he’s only wearing a pair of gym shorts, his hair messy and wild. Perspiration still clung to his bare chest, his hair slightly sticking to his forehead. You swallow hard, forcing your eyes away from him.

“Looks like I’m taking an early lead.” He shrugs, bunny teeth on show as he smiles. Your phone buzzes on the counter and you look over at it, a smirk lighting up your face as you look back to a curious Jungkook.

“Well, I think we'll be even before you’ve even got dressed, so don’t get too cocky.”

A groan cuts off his answer, and you both dart your gaze to Namjoon who has his head tilted back, eyes screwed shut.

“Please just… can you both make sure no one gets hurt if you’re actually going through with this?” He sighs, bringing his head back to glare at you both.

“Get hurt? Who’s gonna get hurt?” You ask, but your gut screams that you know. Deep down where you try to ignore, you know.

Jungkook flusters, settling to stare at Namjoon with wide eyes. Sighing again, Namjoon gets to his feet and dumps his cup into the sink before turning to stare at you both one last time.

“You know what I mean. Now, I’m going to work. Please don’t get your bodily fluids all over my apartment.” He tells you both sternly before walking away.

You and Jungkook look at each other for a moment before you buckle under his gaze, grabbing your phone and heading to the bathroom.

“We’re not gonna get hurt, are we?” Jungkook asks quietly, and you spin to face him.

“No- no, why would we? We’ve got no reason to.” You say awkwardly, fiddling with the hem of your pajama shorts. “As long as neither of us do anything stupid, we’ll be fine.” You finish with a forced smile, ignoring the voice in the back of your mind telling you that this was dangerously stupid already.

“You’re right. Yeah.” He nods, stepping back. He bumps into the stool behind him and flounders before regaining himself, giving you a small salute before he vanishes to his room.

You stare after him for a moment before you shake your head and walk to the shower.

Taking your time to shave and moisturise so that you were feeling yourself, you finally step out, wrap yourself in a towel and head back to your room. A quick check of your phone tells you he’s almost there, so you slip on a top and some shorts - it’s not like you’ll be wearing them long, anyway.

You faintly hear a knock at the door and you speed out to answer it.

Swinging open the door to see Jimin smiling at you, you can’t help but grin back.

“Hey Y/N.” He smiles, his eyes scrunched as he beams at you.

“Hey, thanks for coming so quickly.” You laugh, grabbing his hand and dragging him through the house and towards your bedroom.

“Well, you know I’m always keen to help you beat Jungkook at something.” He laughs as you shut your door behind him.

“That’s why I can always count on you.” You smirk, pressing him back so that he falls onto the bed. You straddle him, hands pressed gently to his chest. “And please, be as loud as possible.”

— —

“I’m gonna go pee. Then we can talk about your battle plan to defeat Jungkook.” Jimin says gently, smiling at you before he gets out of the bed and pulls on his boxers and jeans.

You wave at him and stretch out on the bed, smug at closing the gap already - and you’d only been awake for three hours.

You sit waiting for Jimin, keen to talk to him about the whole bet with Jungkook. But you waited and waited, until finally you got impatient and got up, throwing on a tee and shorts.

You walk out of your room to find Jimin in the kitchen, head thrown back with laughter as he talks to Jungkook. Both were shirtless, but you felt your face heat up when you tried to avoid staring at Jungkook. You approach them, eyebrows drawn together and an uneasy smile on your lips.

“Hey guys…”

“Oh, Y/N! You didn’t say Jimin was coming over.” Jungkook smiles, fixing you with a bubbly giggle as he watches you approach.

You shrug as you walk to the fridge and pick up the pen, putting your first tally on your scoreboard. You spin back to smile at Jungkook, a surge of excitement rushing through you. He swallows as he looks between you and Jimin, his bubbliness dulling a little.

“So, neck and neck, huh? Don’t expect it to last long.” You wink at him, before flicking your eyes to Jimin.

“Wanna go out tomorrow?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him, ignoring Jungkook’s noise of exasperation.

“If you’re going out, I’m coming too!” He yelps.

“No way, not happening! I’m not having you cramp my style.”

“Cramp your style? What are you, sixty?” Jungkook snarks, causing Jimin to stifle a giggle into his hands.

“You’re gonna mess me up! No way.”

“Oh come on, if I do ‘mess you up’ then I’ll void the bet and that’s not gonna happen. So buckle up baby, we’re going out.” Jungkook leans against the counter and crosses his arms across his toned chest, challenging you to try and deny him again.

You look to Jimin and see that he’s set his puppy dog eyes on you. You huff, throwing your hands in the air, and Jungkook grins.

“This is gonna be fun.”

“Whatever nerd, we’ll see who’s gonna be having fun.” You snap, grabbing Jimin by the shoulders and pushing him back to your room before slamming your door shut.

“Chill out Y/N, I’m not gonna take your man.” Jimin giggles, stretching himself out on your bed.

“He’s not my man, you ass.” You hiss, picking his shirt off the floor and launching it at him.

“Well either way, I can’t wait to watch the train wreck happen tomorrow night.”

— —

Night and day passed too quickly.

Namjoon or Jin couldn’t be persuaded to go out with you, citing that they weren’t going to be around ‘childish games of romance’. You elected to ignore what they were trying to say, and simply took your frustrations out by stress texting Jimin all day.

But it couldn’t be held off any longer, and soon you found yourself pressed between sweaty bodies making jerky movements to loud music.

Jungkook had been relatively silent for the whole of your journey, only replying in solemn nods and prolonged staring.

Jimin -who was sick of both of you- ignored the pair of you, practically skipping his way through the club to the bar. He orders a round of shots, passes one to both of you and chucks his down his neck. You blow out your cheeks, forcing yourself to relax.

Jungkook being there wasn’t going to cost you Namjoon’s room. Keeping that in mind, you tip the liquid into your mouth, the burn rippling down your throat as you swallow.

Your eyes flick to Jungkook as he does the same, eyes fluttering shut and lips pulling tight as he forces down the shot.

You forcefully drag your eyes away from a spot of alcohol that escapes his mouth and creeps down his exposed throat, and focus on the crowd.

There were a lot of people in the small club, and your hopes at finding someone were high. Jungkook walks off, mumbling something about the bathroom, and you watch him leave. You turn to look at Jimin, a smile finally slipping onto your face.

“Feeling lucky?” He asks, noting your grin. You shrug your shoulders at him, a twinkle in your eye.

“As long as Jungkook stays out of my way, I’ll be fine.” Your voice is low, and you fiddle with the shot glass in your hand before gently placing it on the bartop.

“Why would he be an issue?” He winks, eyebrow raised.

“He just… gets in my view and I can’t concentrate because his stupid face is in my vision.”

“Sure, and it’s not because you -“

“Shut up, Jimin. I don’t know what you think but you’re wrong.” You snap, eyes narrowing. He simply laughs, holding up his hands in a surrender motion, before his eyes flick over your shoulder.

“Well whatever, I think you’re gonna have company in a minute.” He nods, and you follow his eyes to find a man down the bar looking in your direction.

He’s cute, kinda tall, a little beardy. You give him a shy smile, before turning back to Jimin and winking. He shakes his head, a small giggle passing his lips.

“Give me a signal if you need any help.” He whispers, watching the man walk towards you. You squeeze his arm gently, before turning back to rest on the bar.

After a mere moment, you feel a figure slide next to you, a faint air of expensive cologne filling your senses. You hide your smirk, electing to run a smoothing hand over your hair. The loud music thumps along with your heartbeat, the thrill of the chase lighting your veins on fire.

“Hey.” His deep voice filters in from beside you, and you turn your slightly head to face the man.

“Hi.”

“Would you like a drink?” He asks, bringing his mouth low by your ear.

“Depends if you’re buying or not.” You smirk, meeting his hazel eyes.

“If it means I get your company for the evening, it’s on me.” He tilts his head as he smirks at you, pulling a light laugh from your lips.

“Does that work on all the girls you try it on?”

“I don’t know - will it work on you?” He whispers, his cool breath brushing over the hair by your ear and down your neck.

You lick your lips, letting a hand rest on his arm as you bring you gaze level with his, mere inches away. You were already mentally checking off another mark on the scoreboard, causing a smirk to slip on your face.

Leaning into him and letting your eyes flutter shut, your lips are on the verge of grazing when he’s suddenly ripped out of your space. Your eyes fly open as you search around you, only to find Jungkook pushing the guy through the crowd and out of sight. Shock etches across your face, eyebrows rocketing up as you jaw hangs.

Jungkook stalks back to take the guy’s empty place, fury written across his face as he looks at you. His side is pressed against you in the busy bar but you take a dizzying step back, trying to uncloud your mind. Your stunned stillness fades, replaced by blind rage.

“Jeon Jungkook, what the fuck-“

“I know him, Y/N. He’s a complete asshole.” He fully faces you, bright eyes holding yours in a deadly stare.

“He doesn’t have to be a Nobel Peace Prize winner for me to sleep with him! You’re way out of line!” You shout and he winces at your tone, but he doesn’t falter.

“Trust me, it’s better if he’s not around. I’m trying to help-”

“Are you? It doesn’t look like that from here.” You snap, holding his gaze.

“Believe me, Y/N.” His voice is quiet, and for a moment the storm in your mind clears. But you can’t let him into your head like that, you won’t.

The crowd jostles around you, knocking into you and Jungkook as they try to get to the bar. You’re both pressed together, held in place by unaware figures. But you don’t bend, intent on letting him know how you feel.

His dark eyes examine your face, drawing his lip between his teeth as he lets your words sink under his skin. Your eyes dart about his face, unable to focus. The small freckle that sits just under his mouth, the flare of his nostrils, the way his teeth sink into his lip. It was all him - impossibly Jungkook, and hard to stay angry at. But you wanted to, you needed to.

There’s something electric about him when he looks at you like that. Breathing your air, painted in red and blue lights, surrounded by darkness. It’s heavenly - and too much.

“Stay out of my way, Kook.” Your voice is low, but he hears you loud and clear. With one last withering look, you step away from him and go to find Jimin, his eyes hot against your back.

You deliberate leaving the club completely, Jungkook fully ruining your mood. You can feel him working his way under your skin, and it alarms you that you don’t mind him being there. You shake your head, expelling those thoughts. You’ve got a bet to win, you tell yourself. It shouldn’t be that deep.

Finally, you find Jimin surrounded by a crowd as he dances. They’re cheering over the music, strobe lights illuminating the graceful moves the makes. He laughs as he moves, catching your eyes across the sea of bodies. You smile at him, but his head cocks and he ceases all movement, making a b-line for you. Some of the crowd complain, but he ignores them, stopping before you and placing his hands on your upper arms.

“Are you okay?” He asks, eyebrows creased and plush lips pulled into a thin line.

“Yeah, I’m fi-“

“Do I need to beat that guy up? Where’s Jungkook, we’ll grab him and-“

“No, it’s not the guy that was the problem, it’s Jungkook.” You murmur, eyes shooting away from Jimin.

You find yourself scanning the crowd for him, but not finding him anywhere. You ignore the small pang that hits your chest and instead turning your attention back to Jimin. He has a soft look on his face, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles in your arms.

“So you finally admit it?” He asks softly, barely audible over the music.

“Admit what?”

“... nothing. Come on, let’s get another drink and you can tell me about it.”

With a soft embrace, Jimin steers you to the bar. Pressing through the crowd, you let yourself lean against the wooden bartop, watching but not seeing.

Jimin’s served, and he slides two shots of something clear towards you. You look at him and raise an eyebrow, but he shrugs at you before throwing back his own. You drink one, then two. Wiping your mouth in the back of your hand, you look at him and smile weakly.

“Thanks.”

“So what happened?” He asks, and you take a steadying breath before relaying what went on with Jungkook.

Jimin is silent as you speak, weighing the value of each word. He’s quiet after you’ve finished talking, and you wonder for a minute if he even heard you. But he looks back at you with a sad smile, and suddenly you don’t feel so brave any more.

“You two don’t learn, do you?”  He sighs, shaking his head. Your eyebrows cross as you stare at him, waiting for him to elaborate. But he doesn't, letting the words hang in the air.

And you know. You know what he means, you know how you feel. But thinking any more of Jungkook will never be reciprocated, and ignoring your heart is better than having it broken.

But heartbreak follows you.

You cast your eyes back around the room again. You see someone flick their hair, and you know it’s him, you know it. But moving your eyes around him stops your heart.

Jungkook stands just off the end of the bar, whispering in the ear of a petite brunette. There no playful air about him like there usually was, no thrill of the chase. Determination ripples around him, no sense of ease. In a way, it felt personal.

You blink back a sting in your eyes, turning back to the bar and suck in a deep breath. Jimin looks over his shoulder, spotting what you had been fixated on. He looks back and lays a light hand on your shoulder, but it’s too much.

“Y/N-”

“Excuse me Jimin, I’ve got a bet to win.” You say in a low, dangerous voice, before slipping away from his grip and moving quickly towards the dancefloor.

You let yourself be distracted for a mere moment, letting nothing but music, people and darkness fill your senses. A coldness creeps through your system, your protection. You let your eyes flutter shut, forcing everything but that second away from you.

You’re bumped forwards, and you begin to trip over your feet when a small hand grips your arm and steadies you. You right yourself and turn, only to come face to face with a beautiful, tall blond woman. She looks at you gently, letting her eyes linger on your body.

“Sorry about that.” She smiles, letting her hand linger on your arm.

“Oh, no worries.” You smile at her. She steps away after a prolonged glance, and you bite your lip.

You take a quick look around, eyes immediately darting to where you knew Jungkook was. The girl's hands were pressed to his chest, giggling something excitably in his ear. His expression doesn’t change, but you watch as his hand slides over to her hips.

For once halting moment, his eyes find you in the crowd. It’s fleeting, but you share something that you can’t pin down. He looks pained, guilty.

But he doesn’t push her hands away, and his hand stays rooted to her hips.

You drag your eyes away, your decision for the evening settling in your chest. You briefly make eye contact with Jimin, an unending pity deep in his soulful eyes. You swallow thickly before turning back to the retreating woman, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Wanna dance?” You ask, fake smile slipping onto your lips.

“I’ve been dancing all night, I was gonna head home.” She smirks, and you school your face, another rejection threatening to slice through you.

“Oh-”

“But I could do with some company.” She winks, threading her fingers through yours.

You smile at her and let her lead you towards the bar exit. You look to Jimin, a sad expression on his features. You offer him a blank stare and a small wave, ignoring the flicker of concern in his face.

With an ache in your chest, you flick your eyes to Jungkook - only to meet his. He watches you get pulled by, examining the woman before looking at you. His mouth is parted, his normally sparkling eyes glazed over. The girl he’s with paws at his face, but he doesn't look away from you.

You’re the one to drag your eyes away, trying to erase how her hands looked over him in your mind.

The girl looks back at you and smiles, and you return it, your heart heavy. But you follow her, out of the bar, into a taxi and into her arms.

— —

The next week and a half was painless - purely through the power of ignorance.

You barely saw Jungkook. You spent an entire day with him at one point - but fortunately Namjoon had too many books and lots of furniture to move, so you were barely in each other's presence for long.

But Namjoon was gone, and the two of you were left to haunt the apartment like lonely spectres in his wake.

It wasn’t a total bust though - you’d managed to take the lead in your bet. You were two ahead of Jungkook with eight. Namjoon’s room was in your grasp, and you had planned to go out with Jimin again tonight.

You quietly eyed the whiteboard - Namjoon left it behind saying it had been ‘tainted’. You pull out a carton of juice and pour yourself a glass, trying to delay going into your room.

You knew Jungkook had someone over. You didn’t want to go to your room and hear them, and you wanted them to walk out and see you much less.

Instead you drain your glass and make a grab for your keys - but you had to go to your room and get them from your bag.

Steeling yourself, you make a break for it. You’re almost at your room when his door swings open, and you’re blindsided, your gut wrenching.

“Jeni?” You splutter.

She turns, dressed only in one of Jungkook’s oversized shirts. Her perfect blond hair fell into her precise bob, beautiful features pulled into a look of confusion and disdain.

She places a perfectly manicured hand on her hip whilst the other pulled Jungkook’s door shut. You glare at Jungkook’s ex, your head beating so hard you thought it would burst from your chest.

“What are you doing here?” You growl, letting malice seep into every word.

“Isn’t it obvious?” A spiteful laugh falls from her lips, eyes sizing you up.

“Come back to break his heart again? Or did you get lost on your way back to the swamp?” You snap. She laughs mirthlessly at you.

“Well, Kookie said you weren’t any different. Glad to see nothing’s changed.” You cringe at her nickname for him - it always sounded so cold and calculated when it came from her lips.

“He said that?” You ask, eyebrows creased.

Why was he talking about you - to the ex who tore his heart to shreds? You could remember nights where you’d stay up until 5AM to distract him from the pain he felt - as if you could absorb it for him. In some way, you did-

“Oh Y/N, dense as ever, and hopelessly in l-”

“Shut up Jeni. I know it uses up a lot of brain cells for you to form words, so you can just stop.”

You brush past her, making sure to knock her as you walk by. She squeaks at the impact, but you don’t feel anything but empty.

“It was good to see you. You’ll be seeing more of me soon enough.” You can hear the smile in her voice but you ignore her, bursting into your room and slamming the door behind you.

Pacing the room, your mind reels and your stomach churns.

Jeni being here had changed things. Jungkook was left shattered by her, why would he bring her back into his life? Even to win a bet, that was dumb.

But her being here was bringing to a head something you hadn’t wanted to admit to yourself - how you truly felt about Jungkook.

Because you realised if she is here, you can’t be. Him sleeping with people was one thing, but a relationship, emotions and love with someone else? That wasn’t something you could watch again - it broke your heart enough the first time around.

Your plans to leave the house abandoned, you sit on your bed and pull out your headphones, placing them tightly in your ear before blasting the first song you could find.

When the roar of your headphones was the only thing to fill your senses, you lay back on your bed and curl on your side, letting the music take you some place that wasn’t here, and that didn’t hurt.

Only an hour or so later, you were rudely woken by someone shaking your shoulders.

Groggily you snapped the earbuds out of your ears, and rolled on your back to see a blurry Jimin standing above you.

“Hey.” He says gently, hand resting on your arm.

“Hey.” You whisper back, sleepily rubbing your eyes.

“You doing alright?” He asks softly, big doe eyes examining your face. You nod and sit up, letting the sleep work its way out of your system.  

“Come on, get dressed. We’re getting out of this damn apartment.” He orders, taking your hand and pulling you to your feet. You didn’t argue - you didn’t want to.

“You’ve seen Jeni, then?” You ask, walking to your wardrobe and finding anything to pull on.

“Yeah. Stupid boy…” he sighs, the last part quiet but you hear it all the same.

You finish getting dressed on autopilot, throwing on a quick layer of light make-up before you're ready. Grabbing your purse and phone and slipping on your shoes, you nod at Jimin.

He offers you a small smile before taking your hand in his and leading you both out of your bedroom. He squeezes your hand lightly, and your heart swells at the support from your friend. He was a lighthouse through the fog of all the bullshit you felt.

You hear her voice in the kitchen and tense, but Jimin runs a soothing thumb across your knuckles, and you shudder in a breath.

Both of you walk past the kitchen and see Jungkook making coffee, a pained expression on his face as he half listens to Jeni speak. At the sound of you and Jimin walking by his head snaps up, bright eyes fixed on you.

You feel your face heat up as you make eye contact, but Jimin continues to pull you away. Jungkook’s eyes snap to your locked hands, before back to you, his lips parting.

“Where are you going?” Jeni asks, obviously annoyed at Jungkook’s distraction.

“Out.” Jimin snaps, pushing you to the door.

You open it and step out, heaving a heavy breath of air. Jimin shuts the door behind you and throws an easy arm around your shoulder.

“We haven’t got to go out if you don’t want. We can go for a walk or something.”

“No, no it’s okay. I need something loud. And alcohol. Definitely alcohol.” You sigh, wrapping an arm around his waist, grateful for the support.

An hour later, you find yourself gulping down your sixth - seventh? - shot of the night, and your third glass of a bright blue liquid that was definitely strong but tasted too sweet for you to care.

The bar wasn’t too busy, it being a weeknight, but there was enough people there to keep it interesting.

Loud pop music filled the room, bouncing off the dark walls. You bopped along to the beat, the haze of drunkenness clouding your vision. You were numb, comfortably so.

Jimin had disappeared a little while ago, phone pressed to his ear - he said he was going to the bathroom, and for you to stay put. He’d been trying to tamper down your behaviour all evening, holding back too many shots and chasing off anyone who approached. But still you had managed to get a drink or two bought for you and gulped it down without him catching you in time. However you had gotten bored waiting and being babied, and drunkenly wandered off.

The bet still rattled around in your head, which caused you to flirt with everyone you came across. The still rational part of you screamed - your heart wasn’t in it, not any more. But your clouded brain wouldn’t see past it, and instead you let yourself be pressed against strangers, their hot breath rolling across your face as you tried your luck.

With your most recent attempt telling you that he’ll come find you later in the night, you gave him a sloppy wink before staggering away.

You press yourself against the bar, sloppily propping your head on your hand. The bartender places a small glass of water in front of you and you smile your thanks at him, pulling it to your lips and lightly sipping.  

The look in his eye catches you off guard - pity. Your smile falters, your drunken haze shattering around you. You gulp down the rest of the water and in a moment of clarity, realise you should find Jimin. You shouldn’t be here any more.

Your turn from the bar a little too fast, causing yourself to stumble. A pair of hands catch you, and prop you back up against the bar.

You look up at the man and thank him, and he smirks down at you. His brown choppy hair frames his face sharply, his lips drawn tightly into a smile.

“You heading somewhere in a hurry?” He asks, and you offer a polite smile.

“I’m- I’m” you pause to hiccup, “gonna find my friend. ‘Scuse me.”

“Woah, what’s the rush? I’m sure your friend will be here in a minute.” He takes hold of your wrist, pinning you in place. You try and snap your hand out of his hold, but his fingers are an iron grip.

“Let me g-go.”

“Don’t you wanna stay and chat? You’ve been hitting on everyone here, why not me babe?” He laughs, but his voice has an edge to it, an underlying bite.

“I’m going home… asshole. Getoffme-”

“Listen, slut-”

“Let go of me or I’ll scream.” You grind out, rage and fear bubbling in your chest. The man simply laughs, and you see red.

You dig your nails into his hand around your wrist, and he releases your hand with a grunt. You snap your hand away and begin to scramble from him, but he grabs your upper arm and slams you back against him.

“Isn’t this nice? Now-”

Just as suddenly as you’re pulled against the guy, you’re pulled away into someone’s chest.

“Jimin, I’ve got her!” The shout rumbles from the chest you’re against. You flick your eyes up to the owner of it, only to have the air sucked out of your lungs.

“Kook?” You whisper, his wide eyes meeting yours, a softness touching each corner of his face.

“Bro what the fu-” the man starts, snapping Jungkook gaze from you.

Jungkook wraps a protective arm around your waist, holding you to his side. Rage fills his face, his teeth gritted as he stares at the man.

“I’m not your ‘bro’. You’re disgusting.” Jungkook spits, steering you away from the guy.

You let out a breath, fingers gripping tightly into the material of his shirt. Jimin finally finds you, rushing to you and cupping your face in his hands. Jungkook tenses a little under you, but you don’t let him go.

Jungkook explains what just happened, and Jimin looks between the two of you and towards the man you were just with.

“Get her home, Jungkook. I’m going to have a little chat with our friend.” Jimin almost growls, letting his hands drop from your face.

“Be careful Jimin.” Jungkook offers quietly, but Jimin shakes his head.

“Just get her home.”

With a final nod, you’re walked out through the door of the bar and out into the darkened street. The wall of fresh air makes your head spin, and you cling to Jungkook for support.

You let him lead you down the street as he waits for an uber, his arms still snugly around your middle.  

“Why are you here, Kook?” You slur, lifting your lidded eyes to his face. His eyes stay firmly glued to his phone.

“Jimin called. Said you needed me, so here I am.”

“Yeah, but why are you here?”

His eyes flicker to you just for a second, a glimmer of something flashing across his wide eyes.

“Because… I care about you. Even if you think I don't. And if I left you to fend for yourself, Namjoon would castrate me.”

“I-I can handle myself. I don’t need you… stepping in like some knight in shining armour-”

“I know.” He murmurs, interrupting your rambling tirade. “But I want to.”

Your words die in your throat as you look at him. He’s aggressively avoiding your eyes, instead searching the roads.

It’s overwhelming, the need to tell him the depth of your feelings. You know it’s the alcohol coursing through your veins, but it’s deeper than that. And sober you would hate the drunken delivery, but you need to lighten your heart, your soul.

“Kook-“

You’re stopped by a car pulling up beside you. Jungkook confirms with the driver through the window about his pick up before reaches for the door, helping you in.

You reluctantly disentangle from him and climb clumsily into the car. Jungkook shuts the door behind you, and appears a moment later getting into the other side. As soon as the door shuts the car moves away, your mind spinning.

The ride’s quiet, but your eyes never leave him. You can't tell if it's the alcohol or not, but you can't stop. After a moment, he turns his gaze on to you, his lip between his teeth.  

“Why don’t you call me that more often?”

“... what?”

“Kook.” He says softly, and you feel your heart begin to thump wildly in your chest.

“I dunno, it just happens.” You shrug, but the weight of his question sits on your chest. He was your Kook, you wanted to scream. Not just Jungkook. Kook.

The rest of the ride is quiet. And despite all your anger and hurt, you slide against him and rest your head on his shoulder, lacing your fingers with his. You couldn’t stop yourself, but it felt right through your haze.

Too soon, the car pulls in front of your apartment block. Jungkook throws open the door and slides out, but keeps his hand clasped with yours. You follow him out on wobbly feet and close the door behind you.

You fight to keep your mind blank as he leads you back up to your apartment, only pausing to unlock your front door.

“Is, uh… is that devil bitch still here?” You whisper, pressing to Jungkook’s side. He nearly drops his keys as he looks at you, eyes wide.

“Jeni? No, no. She finally left when Jimin called.” He sighed, at last getting the door open.

You stumble in, momentarily forgetting your hands were linked and dragging Jungkook with you.

He says nothing, simply kicking the door shut behind him as you head straight for the sofa, pulling him down beside you.

The only light came from the windows, dewy street lights strobing the room. Shadows fall across his face, soft, and so close.

His lips part as he watches you, eyes wide. You don’t know how long you sit there for, but it felt like an eternity - and it was perfect. You could spend a lifetime looking at him, seeing him.

He forces his mouth shut and swallows before disentangling your hands. You make a noise of protest, but he holds a finger up.

He hurries to his feet and disappears, only to emerge a moment later, a glass of water in his hands. He offers it to you and you accept gratefully, gulping the cool liquid down.

You place the glass carefully back on the table before settling back onto the chair, head falling to his shoulder.

It couldn’t be helped - the neediness that was trying to claw its way from your chest. You wanted nothing more than for him to consume you, to hold you, to kiss you. It felt so amplified in the moment.

But you couldn’t - how could you? You had to live together, you shared the same friends. Would he ever feel the same? You weren’t like his exes, you weren’t like anything he knew.

You feel his weight shift, and your heart thuds as he leans his head on yours, fingers lacing once again.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” He asks, his voice so soft you barely hear it above the roaring in your head.

“I… yeah. Tired.” You mentally kick yourself, chickening out of your true feeling and leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

“You should go to bed-“

“No! I mean… just a minute longer. S’nice.” You murmur, tracing your thumb across his pink knuckles. He lets out a soft sigh, and you feel him relax beneath you.  

You realise as you drift off that you can’t do it - the bet, Jeni, any of it. It was heading to something you didn’t want, a trial you weren't prepared to face.

“Stupid.” You mumble aloud. Jungkook hums at you but you don’t hear as you quickly drift off, the heat radiating from him to you being the only thing that matters.

— —

There was only four days of the bet left.

When you had woken the morning after your night out, you were on the couch alone. You were in the apartment alone. You shifted, only to find a blanket draped over you and the blinds pulled to block out any unwanted light in your fragile state. A fresh glass of water sat on the small coffee table in front of you, and you swallow thickly.

You remembered the night in gory detail, but the essence remained true enough - the bet was over for you. You couldn’t do it anymore, no bedroom was worth it.

And so the next few days had passed uneventfully, slowly and totally alone. You hadn’t seen Jungkook at all since that night, but a glance at the board on the fridge told you that he hadn’t stopped the bet - in fact he’d overtaken you. The wonky lines under his name sliced through you, a chill settling in your chest.

It had begun to feel claustrophobic in the apartment, a constant pressing on your mind and heart. Even though you hadn’t seen Jungkook, knowing he was around was enough. You barely left your room, conscious about running into him.

You waited until he had left for work before you emerged from your room, keen on devouring anything in your path. You’re midway through rummaging in the fridge when a knock raps quickly at your door.

You hesitate for a moment, waiting to see if they would leave. When the knocking continues, however, you decide to answer. Scraping your hair back neatly as you approach the door, you swing it open-

Only to be met with Jeni.

“What?”

“Charming. Is Kookie here? He’s not replying to my texts or calls.”

“Work.” You sigh, ignoring the way she waves her expensive phone inches from your face.

“Hm. Well, maybe I’ll wait for him to come back- we’re talking again, you know.” She smirks at you, smugness radiating off of her as her eyes scan your face for the slightest hint of weakness.

You let nothing slip despite the punch you feel in your gut. You swallow, trying to wet your drying throat.

“Oh really? I didn’t know gargoyles were able to converse. Congrats for your species.” You say, the fakest smile you could mister plastered on your face.

“You’re just jealous, Y/N. It’s obvious.”

“Are you done? I’m bored of this conversation.” You snap, leaning awkwardly against the door.

“You know what, I will wait for Koo-“

“Yeah, I’m gonna be late, I left my keycard at home- oh.” Comes a voice from down the corridor, and you lean out to see Jungkook stopped in his tracks, his eyes rapidly flicking between you and Jeni. He had his phone pressed to his ear, dressed impeccably in his suit and tie, perfectly pressed trousers tailored to his figure. You’d seen him in what he wears for work many times, but it never failed to knock the breath from your lungs.

“Kookie!” Jeni squeaks, fixing him with a wide smile.

“I’ll be in when I can. Bye.” He deadpans into his phone, not waiting for a reply before he ends the call and pockets the device. “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering my calls-”

“Because I told you I wasn’t going to.” Jungkook’s voice is low, dangerously low, but his eyes are deadlier.

“Jungkook, what are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry you’ve misunderstood me again Jeni, but I told you from the start that nothing would happen between us again. I won’t let you hurt me a second time around.”

The stunned expression on her face is almost laughable, but you do feel a slight tinge of pity for her. It doesn’t last long though. She pulls her expression into a scowl, sneering at him. She casts a sharp glance at you before glaring back at him.

“Whatever Kookie. You’ll come crawling back to me, they always do. Let me know how this all works out.” a spiteful laugh pulls from her lips, flicking a finger between you and Jungkook.

Your eyebrows shoot up as she walks away, letting her hand trace across his bicep as she walks by. You watch the strain on his face as he suppresses a shiver, refusing to move until she was finally gone.

“You okay?” he asks, voice softened as he looks at you. You nod, unable to find your voice.

Panic flushes through you as you step back, ducking back through the door and into the apartment. The gentleness that had crept into his face when he looked at you was too much, it was what you were trying to hide from. You were nearly at your room when his voice hits you, deep, and pained.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

You breathe in deeply, steeling yourself. You’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this. Jungkook had never liked confrontation, so you were banking on him ignoring the tensions that hangs in the air. You just wanted enough time to forget. To get over him.

“No, I haven-”

“Yes you have, Y/N. What have I done?”

You didn’t want to look back at him. You couldn’t bear to see the galaxy in his eyes. But he deserved a reason. And maybe, finally, once he knew you could breathe a little. There was no glimmer of hope that he’d return the feelings, but at least you could get some space. But getting that would hurt too.

What a fucking mess.

Slowly, you turn on your heels and walk back to the kitchen to meet him. He stands in the doorway, eyes fixed on you. You take a steadying breath, stamping down the fear that begins to rise in your throat.

“You haven’t done anything.”

“There must be something. I don’t want to upset you, Y/N. Talk to me.” He takes a step towards you but you take a step back.

“It’s me, Kook.”

“What? Y/N I’m confu-”

“I like you. Okay? I really like you. Fuck, I don’t want to say the ‘L’ word but...I can’t do it any more.” Your voice shakes and your eyes sting, but you hold strong. His eyes widen as he drags his eyes away from you, and appealing to the dark irony within you, his eyes fix on your scoreboard sitting glaringly on the fridge.

There were your words, your heart, head and hopes all laid out for him.

But he just stares at you. Silently, suffocatingly. Time stretched, and the longer it went on, the blacker your heart felt.

“Jungkook?”

Nothing.

“Please?” You croak, your voice thick.

“Y/N. I don’t know what to say.”

“Spare my feelings, Kook. Just say something.”

His eyes finally meet yours. They’re wide, tainted with a softness that made your chest hurt.

“The ‘L’ word?” He asks, eyebrows pulled together, fingers nervously twitching by his side.

“Love, Jungkook. I love…” But you can’t finish the sentence - not with the way he’s looking at you.

“Why do you love me?” he takes another step forward, eyes desperately searching for an answer in your face.

“I-I don’t know. It just crept up on me. I can’t stop. Believe me, I would if I could.”

“But- but why would you want to?” You frown at him. His words come from a much more innocent place than you imagined, but it stirred up so many feelings inside of you. You chose to focus on anger.

“Because I can’t watch you love other people that aren’t me, Kook. I can’t have my heart broken any more. I don’t want to hurt.”

He steps forward, hand reaching out to hold yours. He fills your senses, and you can’t think straight. Everything becomes him, and as much as you don’t want him to leave, he’s too much.

You step back from him, letting your hand slip from his. His mouth parts as he watches you, the lost expression you’re so used to creeping back onto his face.

“I- I can’t. You’re everything, Jungkook. I can’t let you break my heart again, watching you fall for people who I can’t be.” You walk back slowly, eyes flicking everywhere but him. “I’m gonna go stay with Joon and Jin, and find somewhere else to live-”

“Y/N-”

“It’ll be better for both of us-”

“Y/N!”

“Kook?!”

“I don’t want you to leave me.”

His eyes are wide, but determination seeps through him, his unending need to see things through permeating his very being.

“I- what?” You blurt.

He strides the distance between you in a few easy steps, his hands finding your face before he crashes his lips onto yours, desperate for you to understand just how he feels.

You tense under him, your heart thudding so loudly in your chest you’re sure he could hear it.

But your body lets him in, finally, totally and completely. Your hands knot around his neck, yout eyes fluttering shut as you finally give in to your heart.

His hands gently caress your cheeks as he kisses you, fiercely parallelled by how hard he pressed his lips on yours, small sighs escaping him.

You’re the first to pull back, your arms still pressed against his neck as you explored his face, freely and unashamed. His thumbs drag across your cheek, the universe swimming around you both.

“I… may ‘L’ word you too.” He whispers, a goofy bunny smile sliding onto his face. He tucks his face into his chest, almost as if he was trying to hide.

All the pain and confusion seemed to melt at his words. The weeks, the months, you spent aching for something you didn’t know.

“You do? But what about Jeni?” You ask, and his smile turns sheepish as he looks up at you.

“Oh..uh, yeah. I kinda, was a little, maybe bitter. Jealous. Possibly.” A blush creeps along his face, and it unfurls something hot in the pit of your stomach.

“Bitter about what?” You raise an eyebrow, and his next words are barely above a rushed whisper.

“ParkJimin-”

“What?

“Park Jimin!” He yelps, before hiding his face in your arms.

“Jimin? What’s he got- oh. You were jealous of me and Jimin? Why?”

“Look, I know it’s dumb-”

“It is, yeah.”

“-but I couldn’t help it. You two had some… thing, and you hang out all the time. I just… got caught up in it and the bet. Knowing you’d been with him first and had slept with more than me… it just got to my head.”

“But Jeni…”

“Yeah I know, I wasn’t thinking straight. But she was here, and all I could think about was you.”

The admission stunned you, your jaw dropping.

“So why didn’t you say anything to me?”

Why didn’t you?” He asks quickly, and you feet heat creep across your face.

“Okay, touché. We’re both stupid.”

“Yeah. But not any more.” A smile slides on to his lips, and you mirror him.

“I doubt that.”

He chuckles as he looks at you, bright eyes meeting yours. He brings you forward once again, pressing his lips to yours. It’s softer this time, slower. Something that had been worth waiting for.

You pull back from him, placing your hands on his chest and push him back before you fall in too deep.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” You ask, your voice croaking.

His eyebrows knit as he looks at you, kiss-reddened lips pulled into a pout. But then an easy smile slips onto his face. It shines so bright it felt like you’d been living in shadows your whole life.

“I’ve waited long enough for this. They can have a day without me.”

You smirk, the fire inside you burning as you finally, finally have Jungkook where you wanted him. And you weren’t going to pass this up, not for anything ever again.

You back him against the wall to kiss along his angular jaw and down his throat, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows thickly at your ministrations.

You slide the jacket from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor before you start to undo the buttons on his shirt.

You remove your lips from his neck to watch the shirt slip from his body, the fine fabric rippling off his supple skin. You let your finger drag across his bare chest, excitement bubbling in your chest at finally being able to touch him.  

Meeting his eyes you let one hand slip to his belt, slowly unbuckling it. You let your other hand slip into his pocket, pulling out his phone and handing it to him.

“Call your office.”

He takes the phone tentatively from you, confusion crossing his face. But he does as he’s told, scrolling through his call history, eyes fixed on you.

You wait patiently for his call to go through, your fingers subtly undoing the button on his trousers. Finally his call gets picked up, and you prepare to spring into action.

“Oh hey, it’s Jungkook.”

At his words you rip his trousers and boxers down to his ankles, take his girthy cock in your hand stroke him quickly to his full hardness. Jungkook’s eyes bug out of his head, jaw hanging open as he watches you.  

Y-yea I’m not, oh go-“ he slams his mouth shut, taking a steadying breath as your hand twists around his tip.

“I’m not gonna make it in!” He rushes, heaving a relieved breath.

You can hear them ask why, and hiding your smirk, you wait for him to start replying.

“Oh, uh, my apartment, it’s-“

You take him in your mouth as far as you can, lips wrapping around his cock and pressing your tongue against his underside, dragging off slowly with a pop before taking him again.

“Fuc- f - flooded! It’s flooded. Shit.” He pants, his free hand weaving into your hair as he stares down at you, bunny teeth sunk into his lip.

You twist your hand around his base and you bob up and down on his cock, heady at the precum that oozes into your mouth.

“Oh, I’m f-f-fine. Gotta go!” He yells down the phone before ending the call and throwing it at the kitchen counter.

He lets out a juddering moan, letting both his hands knot into your hair.

“You’re the fucking worst.” He pants, hips rolling off the wall.  

You hum onto his cock, swirling your tongue around him. With each swipe, his hands on your hair pull tighter, the tingling in your scalp that sets you on fire.

You feel him throb in your mouth, and despite the tears that spring to your eyes each time his hips stutter him further down your throat, you can’t take your eyes off him. Breathless, wide eyes watching you take him in, bare chest rapidly rising and falling.

He cries out, quickly but carefully sliding you off his length, the tip oozy and red.

“Not yet. Not yet.” He croaks, before pulling you to your feet.

He walks you backwards into your kitchen counter, before turning you and pinning you against the cool granite.

He leans over you, lips pressed to the shell of your ear as he slides his hands down your body.

“I’ve wanted this for a long time.” He breathes in your ear, and you shiver beneath him.

“You better get on with it.” You murmur, circling your ass into his crotch.

He groans, and furiously yanks down your track pants and panties. He stands back from you to examine you as you sit there, totally exposed to him.

“Kook…” you groan, the cool air meeting your soaking slit.

He says nothing, and you can’t feel him around you. Confusion creeping in, you move to turn around when you feel his tongue lick from your clit all the way along your dripping core.

“Jungkook!”

“Sorry - was admiring the view.”

You squeal as your fingers clench on the counter, his hands moving to grab your ass cheeks. His fingers knead in as he works his tongue, catching just the edge of your clit before he swipes up. He’s perched behind you, on his knees with his face buried in your pussy. The reality of it all makes your face heat, so you lay it back on the counter to cool off.

He only kitten licks, never enough pressure to make your eyes roll back but too good to stop. A light suck on your clit, a fast flick all the way up to you asshole, never anything with substance. Every time you try to roll your hips back for more friction his hands would hold you down, pinned and bent over the counter.

“That feel good baby?” There was a hint of genuineness in his voice, vulnerability that made your heart quiver. And your-

“Jungkook…” you moan, toes curling as he blows cool air across your dripping slit. You were too turned on for his games.

“Not’ Jungkook’.” He whispers, his hand sliding down to run a feather light touch over your throbbing core.

“Wh… what?” It’s more of a moan than a question, but he delivers a light slap across your pussy and you yelp in surprise.

“Call me the other name. The one I like.”

Another quick kitten lick has your hips rolling, the teasing pushing you too far.

“Brat.” Another slap, this time a little harder.

“What was that, Y/N? I didn’t hear you properly.” You can hear the smirk in his voice, and as much as you want to turn around and fight him, you want his mouth on you so much more.

“Kook, just eat my fucking pussy already.” You growl. He gives you a small giggle before he obeys.

He begins to eat you out like a man starved, licking fat strips up your length and rolling his tongue across your clit. He groans as he works, fingers kneading into your ass cheeks as he tastes you.

You were practically dripping, Jungkook’s tongue expertly hitting your clit in every way to make you moan.  

He ghosts a finger across your ass, bringing it to your clit to replace his mouth. His mouth moves higher, moving to press just inside your walls. A cry leaves your lips, his finger coating with your wetness they swipe quicker and quicker over your clit.

The tip of his tongue impales you, his moans vibrating you and sending your mind reeling. Your clit throbs beneath his touch, sending you hurtling to your orgasm.

“Jungkook, fuck…”

“Hmm?” He hums, and you groan at his petulance.

“Sorry… brat.” You smirk, only to have him fully pull away at you just as you were at your peak. The absence makes you ache with need, whiney and desperate.

“Jungkook!”

Another slap lands on your pussy and you squeal, the heat of his hand leaving you dripping as the cool air rushed in to replace it.

“Who’s the brat now?” You can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Kook, please!” you shout.

With an incredibly unsubtle laugh, his fingers fly back to your clit, circling faster than before. His tongue seeks you out, pushing inside and letting your wetness coat him.

A cry escapes you as you begin to cum, twitching and bent over the countertop. Jungkook coaxes you through it, whimpers erupting from his throat. He pulls away from you once your gyrating stops, hand gently tracing along your sensitive slit.

On shaky legs he turns you, smiling at your flushed expression and blown out eyes. His eyes scrunch as he pulls you in for a kiss, quick and sloppy, the taste of you fresh in his tongue.

With gentle hands, he hoists you from your ass, settling you on the counter. He comes back to kiss you again, body pressed against you. And despite how tender he was being and how it made your heart clench in your chest, you needed him.

Sliding your hand between your bodies, you take a hold of his cock and begin to rub him up and down your wet slit. His face scrunches, the feeling of you coating him rocking him to his core.

He grabs hold of your hip and places a hand over yours so that you begin to guide him inside of you together. He pushes in slow, the drag of his girthy length inside you sends your head flying back. He frowns as she concentrates, finally bottoming out inside you.

He pulls slowly back out before driving home, the sensation making you both moan.

Pure euphoria is written across his face, an infectious happiness that you find yourself wanting to bask in forever.

You move to meet him, the cool surface beneath you biting into your hot skin. His fingers knit into the bottom of your shirt before tugging at it, pulling it up and off you, His eyes shoot to your bare chest, a groan leaving his lips.

He surges forward, lips latching to your nipple, but his hips never missing a beat as he thrusts deeply into you. A guttural moan of his name leaves your lips.

His tongue swirls over your stiff nipple, the bud aching under his touch. You lean back against the counter, toes curling as you wrap your legs around him.

He’s pushed up on his toes, trying other angles to be able to reach inside you properly without leaving your chest, but he struggles. A whine leaves him as he slides off your breast with a pop, his fingers pressed against your back.

“What’s the matter Kook,” you moan, blurry eyes focusing on him as he drags back out of you. “Can’t reach me?”

A shadow passes his face, a challenge he can’t refuse. Gripping you around the waist, he slides you off the counter, still fully seated inside you.

With your legs wrapped around him, he carries you to the sofa, a smirk on his face. Lowering you both down, his eyes fix back on yours, pressing you into the couch beneath him. With a quick peck, he’s pulling back out of you again and pushing back in, his hips picking back up speed as he pounds you into the sofa.

You wrap your legs around him for support, his forehead coming to rest on yours. You wind your fingers in his hair, holding onto the strands for stability as Jungkook rocks into you. His brow creases in concentration, small gasps and murmurs falling from his lips.

He hits your soft spot inside of you with the drag of his cock and your vision goes blurry. Your fingers tighten in his hair, the pressure making him hiss.

In the blink of an eye he takes hold of your wrists and pins them above your head and you whine, a smirk clear on his face.

“What’s the matter, Y/N, can’t handle it?”

You gasp, rolling your hips particularly viciously at him and clenching as hard as you can. His hips stutter for a moment as he lets his head fall into the crook of your neck, catching his breath.

“Do that again and this is gonna be over very quick.” he pants, and a wave of pride fills you.

“What, this?” You whisper into his ear, rolling your hips and clenching down again on his cock that sat deep inside you.

He picks his head up and kisses your roughly, fingers digging into your wrists. Your hips still, Jungkook sat inside while you enjoy the moment for what it is. He finally releases you and smiles, sparkling eyes and bunny teeth. And all yours.

His hips begin to move again, working you both back towards the fast pace he drilled into you before. You hook your legs tighter around him, pulling him closer to you with every thrust.

He collects both of your wrists in one hand above his head and brings his hand down your arm, fingertips tracing along your skin to your face. He thumbs over your jaw before bringing his hand down to your throat, fingertips ghosting on the delicate skin there.

You suck in a deep breath, eyes latching on his above you, perspiration sticking his hair to his forehead as he smirks down at you.

His hand slides off your throat, and trails down your body to reach between your legs - but not before stopping for a light flick of your nipple on the way down. His finger drag across your clit drawing a moan from you. Your hands twitched in his grip, desperate to feel him. Your hips begin to roll, The pressure inside you mounting.

“Kook, close…”

“Let go for me baby.” He whispers, before pressing his lips against yours.

You manage to snap one of your wrists from his grip, and bring your hand down to twist your fingers in his hair, kissing him back deeply.

A few more circles of your clit and you come undone, Your body juddering beneath Jungkook’s strokes as you see stars. You clench uncontrollably on him, the motion tipping Jungkook over the edge with you.

He cries out against your lips, hips stuttering as he comes inside you. You both ride the sensation out until he lets himself collapse on you, head tucked into the crook of your neck.

He takes a moment for his hips to stop their ministrations, his hot breath fanning against your chest. Finally he lifts his head up and smiles down at you, his nose scrunching at the motion. You smile back at him, totally lost in his eyes.

Sitting back, he pulls himself out of you, stopping to watch his cum drip out of your pussy. Entranced, he runs his fingers along your sensitive clit, your body twitching under his touch.

Gathering up some of the spill, Jungkook slides a finger inside you, pushing it back in.

You immediately clench down on his fingers, your core oversensitive but still completely responsive to him. His fingers build up speed, jackhammering his come back inside of you, his fingers crooked so that they brushed your g- spot with each move.

“Kook, my god!” you yelp, hands curling into the cushions beneath you. Your hips gyrate at the pressure. Despite the sensitivity and the sting, the waves of pleasure that washed through you couldn’t be stopped.

“What was that?” He snarks, before flicking his finger over your clit at lightning speed.

Your orgasm breaks over you, your hips thrusting off the chair as his fingers work, a strangled cry escaping your throat. He only stops when your tired body begins to slow, sliding his fingers out with a smirk on his face.

Once your unfocused eyes finally zero in on his he smiles at you before sticking his finger in his mouth, sucking them clean. A low moan emits from your throat.

“Wow.”

“Wow yourself.” He mumbles, taking your hand and pulling you up. He gently wraps an arm around your waist and flops back on the couch, settling you on his chest.

You sit in silence for just a moment, letting the reality settle into your skin. Finally you rest your chin on his chest, and stare up at him with a smile on your face.

“I told you I could give you an orgasm or three.” He smirks and your sigh, planting your face into his skin. He laughs, the light rumble from his chest shaking you, squeezing your heart tighter.

“You’re the worst. I don’t know why I like you.”

“Well I know why I like you.” He whispers, and you pick your head back up to look at him, teeth sunk into his bottom lip.

A small smile slips onto your face, your heart thudding wildly in your chest as you stare up at him. You bring your hand to brush over his jaw, before stretching up and pressing your lips softly against his own.

You release him and open your eyes, his bright eyes fixed on yours. His hand moves to rest in your hair, the strands woven around his fingers.

“So, do I get Namjoon’s room?”

“Kook! No way-”

“Come on, baby. I kinda did win!”

“You can’t ‘baby’ me! I was in the lead and gave up. If I kept on pace then I definitely would have won.”

“Not fair.” He huffs, but a small smirk turns the corner of his mouth. “How about another bet? First to cum wins.”

You laugh and shake your head, letting your hand smooth down from his jaw to trace across his chest.

“Screw it, be prepared to lose..”

He smiles, leaning forward and pressing his smiling lips against yours. He pulls back to press his forehead against yours, nose scrunched.

“If I’m still yours after, then this is one competition I don’t mind losing.” His whispered words clench in your chest and you giggle, despite yourself.

“You will be, Kook. But I’m still gonna win.”

[emmatrustsno-one]

A response to questions about my essay on class

I prefer to respond to comments with full posts rather than in comments as my autism makes me quite systematic and I struggle to follow multiple threads of conversation at once!

Class and race

Firstly, regarding the rather blurred lines between class and race that come out of Foucault’s ideas about racism, i.e. that racism is not simply socio-political, ideological discrimination but rather a form of government that is designed to manage a population:

The fact that membership of the upper-class is defined almost exclusively by blood does absolutely create a link between the abstract concept of class and the scientific fact of biology. Automatically, the majority of people are excluded from the upper-class due to having the wrong biology, i.e. the wrong blood. In that sense, the upper-class (though not the middle-class) constitutes a biopower in Britain. Since this all started so long ago in history when there were few coloured people in Britain, this automatically means that the blood which determines upper-class status belongs to white people. It also means that the concept of class, at least for the upper-class, includes a notion of being a race apart from the rest of us; biologically separate.

However, firstly, that race apart doesn’t have its foundations in skin colour. The upper-class didn’t envisage themselves as biologically separate in order to manage a population of coloured people; they did it to manage the masses of Britain (and to a lesser and less clear extent, Europe) and managing the masses is still the reason for having that class structure today. This means that, whilst it is racist in the sense that it excludes coloured people by default, it isn’t racist in the sense that excludes them because of ideological discrimination against skin colour or other racial features related to biology, such as eye shape. In a way, if you imagine the upper-class to be a separate race from the lower classes, that in itself turns the lower classes into a race, meaning that, in class terms, everyone is the same race no matter what biological features they have.

Secondly, if you remember, I said that it’s almost impossible to become upper-class, except by marriage and, to lesser degree to become a Lord. Those options are technically open to anybody. Race doesn’t theoretically stop you doing that. I have linked to an article about a Nigerian woman marrying some arsehole-sounding toff! She is the first, but nevertheless shows that it’s possible. Please note that the article is from a right-wing newspaper and comes across as very patronising. It also calls the woman black when she isn’t. She is coloured but not black. Saying black here isn’t racist but there is a problematic tendency for some people to conflate ‘black’ and ‘not white’, which lumps everybody who isn’t white into one big group as washes away their individual stories, which is obviously terrible. I have only included the article to show that the upper-class is open to people of different races, in the same limited ways it is open to others. I don’t read that paper – it just pops up on google often if you are looking for class related things because it’s a middle-class sort of paper and, as I said before, the middle-classes are kind of obsessed with class!

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2302258/Emma-McQuiston-How-I-beat-snobs-Britains-black-marchioness.html

Thirdly, although the upper-class is formed via blood, the others aren’t, so your sense of class perception comes from all those other things I mentioned in the original essay. There is nothing biological or official which could mark a person as working or middle-class. Class for working and middle-class people is a mixture of traits, experiences and values. It is a frame of mind, even. Something that runs deep within you and touches every bit of you. You can taste it, even.

It is absolutely true that Britain has problems with racism. Some people’s racist attitudes, as well as the sort of institutionalised racism you get in all western countries, limits and restricts opportunities for coloured people and makes life extra hard for them. There are many coloured middle-class people though. Struggles due to racism and struggles due to class aren’t the same thing. Racism is an attitude; class isn’t. Race is a group within society, rather a layer of society. It’s true that people’s experiences of racism will be different depending on their class, but this difference isn’t big between working and middle-class, and there will also be experiences of racism that people have across all classes. The fact the woman in the article is the first marchioness (the wife of a marquis) is due to the fact that society is starting to tackle racism. It hasn’t happened before because western society is racist, not because class and racism is the same thing. She still had to be wealthy for it to happen, but then so would anyone, no matter what race they were.

Class and gender

Again, there is discrimination based on gender. Again, gender is a distinct ‘group’ within society. It’s true that people’s experiences of gender discrimination will be different depending on their class, but this difference isn’t big between working and middle-class, and there will also be experiences of gender discrimination that people have across all classes.

It’s interesting to note that the idea of upper-class status being defined by your surname gives a new dimension to how changing your surname changes/destroys your identity: women can move classes if they change their surname when they get married, and that will, in turn, change who they are, much more deeply than the way your identity is usually changed when you get married.

Class and health

Inevitably, working-class people are in poorer health than others. We have the NHS here, thank god, so everyone can get decent healthcare. However, the NHS is not that good. The people usually are, but the system isn’t. The NHS is a government body, which means major decisions and funding come from the upper-class or upper middle-class, since they are the only ones who can the contacts required to get into government. The government interferes with research, blocks the release of medications approved by other countries and generally makes life difficult for NHS employees by giving them onerous paperwork or giving them no choice but to work triple shifts with no break. They also dramatically under-fund it. Hospitals have poor facilities, too few beds and very long waiting lists and doctors sometimes hold back prescribing none-essential medicine because of the cost. Moreover, you do have to pay for the dentist and optician. In fact, it is at breaking point at the moment. We have our most right-wing government in years and a of people (including me) believe it won’t be long until it is scrapped. This isn’t the place to get on about that, but believe me, it would be a socio-economic disaster.

A few anecdotes, as ever:

- One of my mum’s colleagues has a detached retina. It was diagnosed by her optician 3 weeks ago. They sent her immediately to hospital, but she couldn’t go to her local hospital as, like nearly all hospitals serving smaller towns and more rural areas, it is too basic to deal with almost everything. So she had to have a journey of an hour. The hospital she was sent to (my local hospital – I live near a city) decided that they, too, didn’t have the equipment/expertise/staff to deal with it and sent her to a hospital in the nearest major city, so she had another journey of an hour. That hospital agreed they could operate but they couldn’t fit her in for nearly 2 weeks, so she would have to go home and come back then. So she travelled home (2 hours). They called and postponed the appointment due to lack of staff not once, not twice, not three times, but FOUR TIMES. She has still not had the operation. If her retina moves again at all, she will be blinded in that eye. She isn’t allowed to even get out of bed in case sitting up moves it.

- My uncle recently had an illness that caused him to have severe pains in the region of his appendix. He went to hospital (the same hospital my mum’s colleague couldn’t go to). They didn’t even have the expertise to diagnose appendicitis so he was sent to my local hospital, like my mum’s colleague. After arriving at the second hospital he was left for 9 hours before he was seen to. If it had been appendicitis he would have probably died. Luckily it wasn’t. Since there was a chance he might have had to have surgery to remove the appendix, during those 9 hours he wasn’t allowed to eat or drink anything. Once they established what it was, they brought him some toast (bearing in mind he hadn’t eaten in at least 12 hours, if you count the time he spent at the original hospital), which is inadequate enough, but, they served it in a bowl, because they had no plates. Honestly.

I could give many more examples. Almost everyone here has got numerous horror stories about the NHS. We do support them and working-class people especially and fervently behind the NHS, because without it we wouldn’t have healthcare at all. If it goes we genuinely fucked.

Higher class people, being most often wealthy, can afford private healthcare, so they don’t realise and/or don’t care that basic healthcare is so inadequate.

There’s also the issue of how living a working-class life affects your health. You work harder and longer than some people. You don’t get a good diet. You live in housing that might be cold, damp, cramped or have maintenance issues you can’t afford to fix, or your landlord doesn’t fix, like missing roof tiles. That all takes its toll on the body. If your personal hygiene isn’t great you might develop skin problems. A combination of not cleaning your teeth well and eating too much processed food, combined with the fact we do have to pay for dental care, might mean you have bad teeth. I have 4 teeth missing, for instance. I know someone who does voluntary work at a homeless shelter, and they have to make soup or stew and that’s it because the people who eat there have no teeth. They have all rotted and fallen out. It is possible for middle-class to end up homeless and in need of such help, because class isn’t all about wealth, as I’ve said, but at least they could access a decent diet if it was provided by charity because they are likely to have decent teeth.

Then there’s mental health. Mental health services are woefully inadequate anyway, but if you are working-class then the system is designed to keep you working, so you might be accused of whining, or have your illness ignored completely if there’s no physical evidence of it. The people around you are likely to be unsympathetic towards weakness, especially if you’re a man, because working-class people can have a ‘shut up and get on with it’ kind of attitude. You might struggle to get and keep a job, which makes you even poorer. Your life is likely to predispose you to depression, since you are working so hard, not getting much back and have little time for yourself. Since you have no choice but to work and the system won’t help you much via support or disability benefits you might look for other ways to cope, such as alcohol or crime. You won’t have the time, money or energy to get out and do much with people so your relationships will be affected, which also can lead to depression.

You are likely to live in a more urban area and won’t have the time, energy, money or transport to get into nature, so you probably don’t get enough fresh air, exercise and relief from stress. That affects your physical and mental health, and also stops you accessing your own country.

My next post will be about the 2 pillars of class in Harry Potter - the wizarding world class system and the muggle/real world one.

To finish, here are 2 pictures of working-class areas in Britain around the time Snape was born. The first is the town I grew up in. I’m not sure where the second is. The photographer thought possibly Birmingham, in the midlands.The silhouette (although it’s a girl I think) reminded me of Snape!