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springalwayscomes · 2 years ago

Text

Closer

Closer (Teaser) Closer: Too Close (Teaser) Masterlist Taglist

Plot: To have each other close is something that you both always wanted, in a way or another. It’s just that… close is not close enough anymore for Jungkook.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Domestic, Humor, Friends to Lovers

Wordcount: 27k

Content Warning: mentions of masturbation, dirty talk, swearing, pining, minor injury, praise, cunnilingus, cum eating, unprotected sex, mentions of blowjob, masturbation, hand job, dry humping, multiple orgasms, love making, creampie

Author’s Note: Hello! I had the first line of this fic stuck in my notes for a while, it stayed there without really going anywhere, then inspiration came and the miracle happened in a few days. I like this so much so I hope you will like it too! There are some parts that just do things to my heart, one of these is inspired by Gaelforce. I don’t know if you follow him but if you do you sure will realise when you’ll get there!

Let me know what you think about it, again I hope you’ll like it!💜

If you want to be tagged in my taglis to get notified when my other works will come out let me know here, under this post, with a message or an ask. Feel free to talk to me for whatever, I always appreciate your messages!🫶🏻💜

Jungkook walked in on you using your vibrator as a microphone when you were nineteen, lipsynching as if your life depended on it.

He had laughed so fucking loud that time that you still feel your ears grow red when you think about it.

He has teased you for it from the moment it happened, still does it now.

Back then, it was so freaking hilarious he would bring it up every time you were too mad at him, to make you laugh it off and let go of the heavy atmosphere creating between you every time you used to fight as teenagers.

Five years afterwards, as of now, he still thinks about it from time to time. It makes him giggle when he’s in the middle of a meeting at work, when he has a stressful day, when he’s just laying in bed with his head empty. Usually, that would be the case. Now that you’re sitting on his couch with a bag of pop corns squished in your hands while the tv is playing though, is a new circumstance.

«What are you laughing at? You’re so loud» you wince at him, monotone and annoyed.

He licks his lips, shaking his head.

«Your vibrator still haunts me»

It takes you less than two seconds to realise what he’s talking about.

«You’re so annoying. Should I bring up the time you farted out loud in class too?»

«That’s not the same,» he laughs «I told you that I wasn’t feeling good but you insisted on going to class anyway»

«You didn’t go for three days straight-» you fight back, stopping yourself when the camera points on Park Seojun.

«Gosh, this man. I’m gonna marry him someday» you sigh dreamily. Jungkook snorts.

«Cause I was sick?» he opens the fridge.

«You drank with Jin the night before. You shouldn’t drink if you’re sick. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t hold it until class was over»

«You’re so noisy» he rummages through the shelves, finally finding the bowl of strawberries he was looking for.

«Want some?»

You quickly glance at him over the counter, pop corns stuffing your mouth full.

«No, thanks. I’m full with these»

He gets a spoon from the drawer, walking back to the sofa.

«The face you made when I walked in is still funnier than-»

«When you farted in front of the class?» you cut him off, trying to get some sense in his head.

«Hell, yeah» he laughs.

«You literally-»

«Okay, now stop!» you slap his ass before he gets a chance to sit down.

«Oh, yes keep going» he fakes a moan. You literally want to slap him hard enough to make him stop being an idiot, but you have to hold yourself back.

«Just shut up and let me see Park Seojun» you shake your head. Jungkook gets a spoonful of strawberries into his mouth, eyes falling on the screen and eyebrows pinched together.

It’s a Saturday, thanks God the both of you don’t work on weekends, so usually you both find yourself on the sofa, watching a movie or just messing around. You’ve known each other since you were sixteen, so to say that you’re pretty comfortable with each other is an understatement. Even when you first met him, the nineteen years old Jungkook never made you feel uneasy. You were inseparable. Best friends that used to sleep at each other’s place every three to four days because you were just used to it. It was natural, so natural that a lot of the people around you thought you were a couple. Back then, you would grimace and shake your head vividly, not even giving it a thought. Jungkook would laugh it off, heart beating loudly in his chest every time anyone made him imagine how it would’ve been.

«Do you still have it?» he asks, voice low as he stares at the screen.

«What?» you murmur. He doesn’t answer, his spoon scraping against the plastic of the bowl to get as much strawberries as he can into his mouth. He munches on them, gulping down and enjoying the sweet taste.

«That vibrator»

«Jungkook! What kind of question is that?» you stop the drama, his thigh getting hit by the remote.

«I was just asking!» he raises his hands as to make sure you understand he meant no harm, the bowl now sitting on his lap.

«Why would you ask that?» your tone makes his eyes smile first, as he always does. His eyes smile first, then his lips just follow.

«Why are you so sensitive about it? I won’t ask, but we both know you still use it» he gets up from the couch, getting to the sink to put the empty bawl inside.

«We say filthier things when we’re in bed!» he goes on from where he’s standing at. Your head is going to explode. It’s at times like this that you rethink about your life choices. From being sixteen and dumb, until you’re twenty four and ending up with sleeping with your best friend.

«In bed! Leave those for when we’re in bed!» you fight back, another pop corn getting shoved into your mouth.

«Okay,» he appears by your side «wanna go to bed so I can ask you?»

You can’t believe him.

«Jungkook!» he laughs, bright and out loud, crystal clear. It makes your insides twist and turn with the need of shutting him up.

It’s not like it’s a everyday thing, sleeping together. It just happened three times, out of the blue. You both agreed that it’s not something big, something that will change your bond or friendship, it’s just something that… you both needed? In those moments, you guess. Maybe mentally? However you try to justify it, the answer is always the same: nothing is going to change between you. It’s just sex. But for the sake of your relationship, you try to keep it where it belongs: in bed. Talking about such things outside can be confusing, it can lead your friendship too places you don’t want it to be. You love Jungkook, as your friend. Being too sexual won’t lead to good places, just a fucked up friendship and a fuckbuddy living with you. So you both better keep your minds at bay, don’t pass the limits of friendship at least when you can.

«I’m going to get a shower» you announce, shutting the tv and getting up from the couch. His eyes are questioning, but you just tap his shoulder.

«Put this away, please?» you hand the pop corns to Jungkook. He grabs the bag.

«Why?» you’re already almost out of the living room when he asks.

«I’m going out tonight!»

«With the girls?» he raises his voice a bit to make you hear him from the other room, as he looks for a peg in the drawer to close the popcorns.

«Yeah, it’s Eunji’s birthday!» you remind him. Jungkook winces, he knows what that means. You will come back home late, and you’ll end up being awake until morning cause you hate going to clubs and will feel like you have to make up for the six hours you lost in there. You still do it, for your friends, but it’s something that you don’t enjoy a lot. If you add the fact that you don’t actually drink, that makes it all even worse.

«What about Jimin?» he’s out of your bedroom door, you can hear it from how close his voice sounds. Thank god he has a good sense of privacy, cause you’re naked.

«They were together the whole day, tonight is girl’s night» you answer. Jungkook nods, telling himself he’s going to ask him to come over later.

«I’m taking a shower now!» you let him know the conversation is going to end, already walking to your bathroom.

«She said it’s girls’ night, so» Jimin’s munching on a chicken’s wing with so much eagerness it looks like he hasn’t been eating for a week.

Namjoon nods at him, getting a beer from the fridge.

«You’ve been together the whole day, though»

«I know» he answers, «what can I do if I want to spend every second with her?»

«I feel like I’m gonna throw up» Yoongi murmurs from beside him, giving him the most disgusted glance ever. Jungkook laughs.

«What have you all been up to lately?»

Hoseok sits on the carpet, ready to start eating as he waits for the group’s answer.

Jin shrugs.

«Just work. The restaurant is always full, I think I might die from overworking»

«Listen to him bragging» Taehyung pats his hyung’s shoulder.

«I’m not! It’s going well, but it’s fucking tiring! Last night I came home to Hana and… nnghh, why am I so dumb?» he closes his eyes, breathing through his teeth.

«What happened?» Jungkook asks.

«She’d kill me if she knew I told you this,» he gulps a big sip of beer down «you have to promise me it won’t slip out of your dead-ass mouths»

«When did we ever say-»

«That time?» Yoongi’s question gets cut off, Jin’s eyes big as they remind him of what happened last time.

«It wasn’t me! It was Tae!»

«Yah, I didn’t do it on purpose» he fights, holding back a laughter.

«Alright, stop. Just don’t make it happen again» Seokjin gives him a fiery glance.

«She was like, really in the mood and… I told her I would take a shower and then go to bed with her but my muscles were so sore I decided to run a bath. I felt asleep. She waited up for me for a whole hour,» he takes a bite from the chicken «she was… god, what did I do? I was so tired I didn’t do it on purpose but she felt rejected or humiliated I guess… I’m such a-»

«Hyung, you were just tired» Jungkook stops his rant. Namjoon nods.

«You should talk to her»

«I didn’t get the chance, she left earlier this morning and didn’t answer my texts all day» he answers, eyes gloomy as he pours himself another glass of beer.

«Wait for her up, she’ll come back after they are done with the club» Yoongi proposes. Jin nods.

«What about you?» he asks.

«I’m good» he smiles. A little too much, actually. It’s too bright, too much.

«You’re good?» Hoseok smiles at him, already knowing that there’s something else. There has to be, with him smiling like that.

«Really good» he echoes.

At this point, Jin hits his shoulder.

«Yah, give us the good stuff!»

The music in the background fills the air as Yoongi ponders on how to explain what’s happening in his life at the moment, a big smile taking over his features.

«I’m…» he smiles again «I’m going to be a dad»

«What?!» it’s a scream that comes out loud, the same word coming from every single person present. The man nods, eyes teary. It makes Jungkook’s heart squeeze, to see his hyung so happy. The room is filled with happiness, as they all proceed to ask questions, hugs and congratulations getting shared. After all, he and Hyunjoo have been trying for the last year. The night is filled just like that, with jokes and laughs until Jin and Jimin decide that it’s time to go back home to wait for their girlfriends, the others deciding to stay until you will be back to say hello and goodbye to Jungkook.

It’s when the bell rings that they know that something is definitely weird. The knock on the door too sounds eager for you, and when Jungkook gets up to open it what they hear right after makes their eyes shoot right open.

«Fuck, are you drunk? Who took you home? Why did you drink?»

«Leave me alone» you stutter as you try to walk inside, Jungkook’s arm getting to your waist. You can’t even stand, how much did you drink?

«Who took you home?» to say he sounds worried sick is an understatement.

«Some guy with a really pretty dick» you laugh. Taehyung gets up, everyone following after him. They never saw you drunk, simply because you just don’t drink. You don’t like the taste of alcohol, can’t even gulp down a sip of beer properly without having to go brush your teeth, apart from the fact that you can’t hold it. Half of a glass is enough to make you the drunkest version of yourself; apparently now it’s not like that anymore.

«What?» the shock from seeing you like this makes Jungkook hold his words back, first he needs to make you sit somewhere.

«Grab a wet towel, or just… water, give me water!» he orders around. Someone gives him just what he asked for, and he doesnt even spend time in thanking them as he wipes the makeup off from your face.

«Water» Yoongi gives him a glass.

«Why- you’re here! Hello!» you wave to your friends, Taehyung smiling at you.

«My bestest friend! Tae, I missed you» you whine, grabby hands reach for his wrist, making him sit next to you.

«Yah! I’m your bestest friend!» Jungkook shakes his head.

«I missed you too» Taehyung scoffs, your head falling on his shoulder. Jungkook hisses, it’s harder to get your makeup off when half of your face is squashed like this.

«Why did you drink so much?» Taehyung tries.

«I was… feeling left out? I can’t remeber well» you murmur, chuckles coming out as you decide it’s time to mess with Jungkook. Every time he tries to wipe a part of your face, you just turn in the opposite direction.

«Will you stay still?» he shakes his head, annoyed.

«You’re a pain in the ass, Jungkook. I hate you»

«I think it’s better if you go home, she needs a shower» Jungkook turns to face Namjoon, Yoongi and Hoseok. They look pretty shocked, but worry is weighting down on them more.

«Are you sure? We can help you?» Hoseok tries, but he shakes his head again.

«It’s fine, I got this»

«Don’t go! Why are you kicking them out! So annoying» you fight, holding Taehyung’s arm tighter.

«I’m not kicking them out, but you need to shower and get changed and they- just…» he turns again «Don’t worry, just go home and rest. I got this» he repeats.

It’s 5.43 am. And it’s so frustrating that you’re laying by his side, sleeping, while his eyes are wide open.

You might not feel good, so it’s better anyway, he tells himself.

Jungkook is annoyed. A lot, actually. Why, he doesn’t get it. Your words echo in his mind, making him bite on the inside of his cheek when he should be resting.

Did you sleep with someone? It very much sounded like it. A really pretty dick? He scoffs. The adjective sounds almost out of place, still he feels his insides burning even hotter. He wants to ask you right now, but you’re sleeping. Again, he should be too, actually.

He decides it’s better if he sleeps on the sofa, you’re asleep anyway, so you won’t make a fuss about it. He lifts the covers, gently and slowly, then sits on the bed, a leg already out and his foot laying on the ground. The cold makes him wince.

«Don’t go» you hold his wrist, digits caressing his skin.

«Stay with me,» you plead «I’m not feeling good»

His defences fall down instantly. It’s hard not to succumb when you’re murmuring against him. He does it without you having to ask twice, his foot back under the warm covers.

«Hold me?» you ask. It’s low, sweet and sleepy, and he guesses you’re still drunk but he doesn’t care. His arms wrap around you and hold you close, your head lays on his chest as you would do after having sex. Jungkook holds his breath and swears to himself, he needs to slow down his heartbeat because it seems like his heart is going to combust.

«I don’t hate you,» your voice is faint

«I’m sorry I told you I hate you, Kookie»

«It’s okay» he caresses your hair, trying to make you relax.

«Just get some sleep» he can’t hold himself back, not when you’re laying in his arms so defenceless and looking so frail and delicate. His lips land on your forehead, soft and gentle, incredibly caring. You don’t say anything though, you’re already asleep.

«Alright, what is it?» Taehyung snaps at him, eyes fixed on the maknae. Jin nods, eyebrows high.

«Nothing» Jungkook shrugs, going back to stare at the screen. The movie isn’t playing, stopped by Taehyung.

«It doesn’t seem like nothing» he answers back.

Yoongi taps Jungkook’s shoulder.

«Tell it to Yoongi hyung?» he smiles.

Jungkook scoffs. It’s something he used to tell him when he was younger, it would reassure him to know that there was someone older than him to relay on and to count on. Now, though, Yoongi can’t do anything about it.

«I’m your hyung too» Taehyung pats his other shoulder.

«Me too» Jimin adds.

«We’re all older, we got it» Namjoon looks at the two who are smiling wide at Jungkook.

«Talk to us? We could help» he prompts.

«I just… I don’t know» he doesn’t know where to start from. He doesn’t even know why he’s feeling so bothered about it, it shouldn’t be such a big deal.

«I don’t know… why?»

«What? We can’t understand like this» the confusion is clear on Hoseok’s features.

Jungkook sighs, deep and shaky, head falling on the cushion of the couch.

«I’ve been sleeping with someone» he declares, bringing the back of his hand on his eyes.

«What?» it’s Jimin and Jin, ready to ask why he didn’t tell them. Yoongi glares at them in a second, shutting them up before they even have the chance to start.

«And?» he coos.

«And- she… slept with someone else» he adds. It’s blurry, and the situation is not clear, but just seeing Jungkook like this makes all of them on the edge.

«Are you in a relationship? Or you just-»

«We’re not» he answers Namjoon.

«We’re not, but…» he doesn’t finish.

He can’t believe himself. What the hell is this about? It’s not like you agreed on being exclusive, you didn’t even talk too much about what happened, it just happened, three fucking times. And god, how fucking good it was. The best sex he’s ever had. Fuck, he didn’t even think about someone else after sleeping with you.

Maybe it wasn’t the smartest of choices since he’s been fighting against his feelings for six years, but until now they were pretty good. He dated, you dated, he kept them at bay and they didn’t get in the way.

«You wish you were» Yoongi finishes his sentence.

Silence fills the air. Jungkook feels like he’s going to throw up. You wish you were, it’s the only thing playing in his head. He wishes you were. That’s the point, that’s the fucking point. He wishes you’d see in him what he’s been seeing in you for all these years, he wishes you’d crave his touch just like he craves yours, in the same way. He wishes you could share more than just a home and bills, friendship and bags of popcorns. He wishes for more, and fuck, he’s been so fucking stupid all along to think that a little taste couldn’t do too bad, to think that he could have at least that much.

«Have you talked to her?» Jin tries. Jungkook shakes his head, the back of his hand still pressed against his eyes.

«Why don’t you try?»

«Why would I? We’re friends»

«Fuckbuddies?» Jimin asks «How can you be-» Taehyung slaps him on the neck. A faint moan coming out of his friend’s lips.

«Shut up»

«No, friends. We’re friends» he slightly raises his voice on the last word, to make it clear.

Yoongi’s eyes narrow.

«You mean you… you’ve been sleeping together but you’re friends?»

«Isn’t it clear?» Jin looks at him like Yoongi has two heads, eyes trying to suggest something that no one gets. His head moves as to beckon him to something that’s right in front of him, Yoongi’s expression still clueless. Then, he gets it.

«Y/n! Is it Y/n? What the hell Jungkook!» he breaks out. Everyone’s eyes shot right open, Jungkook’s hand falling on his lap as he realises that there’s no way back.

«When? Why?»

«It just… happened» he sighs, eyes closing again.

«When?» Taehyung can’t believe what he’s hearing.

«Four months ago,» he murmurs «the first time»

«How many times? Oh, my god» Jin wants to know everything, every little detail. Not sexually, it would be awkward since you’re his friend, but every thing he can, he has to know.

«Three»

«Three?» He repeats.

«Three times,» Jungkook says again «I don’t know what to-»

«Is it because of the guy with the pretty dick?» Yoongi asks. Jungkook tilts his head, glaring at his hyung.

«Okay, it is»

«Talk to her» Hoseok prompts but he only gets a big, steady shake of the maknae’s head.

«She was drunk. Do you know what you’re doing? Like, have you talked about it at least? Are you exclusive with each other?»

«We didn’t, and I guess we’re not» Jungkook answers Jin, not really in the mood for all of his questions.

«Jungkook, you have to-»

His phone rings, cutting Hoseok off. Your name comes up on the screen, everyone’s eyes and ears ready to steal information, Jungkook’s thumb stopping before hitting the green icon. He takes a deep breath, then answers.

«What-»

«Jungkook, please help me»

Something inside him snaps, worry filling every part of his being. Your voice is shaky, fragile. It sounds like you’re crying.

«What, what happened? Where are you?»

«At home,» you whimper «I’m in the tub. I slipped and, I can’t move. It hurts»

«Fuck, wait I’ll be there in five minutes. Stay on the phone, don’t move. Please, don’t move, okay?» he’s already on the way to the door of Taehyung’s house, their eyes fixed on him in worry. He waves goodbye before closing the door, mouthing “emergency” at their inspecting eyes.

«Fuck, are you okay?»

To say he’s worried sick is an understatement. His eyes travel to every part of your body to make sure that you’re not hurt, until they reach your arms covering your chest.

«Don’t look! Give me the bathrobe» you want to cry, you feel so embarrassed that you actually could.

«Yes!» he passes it to you quickly, helping you as best as he can with his face turned to the side. He wants to tell you that it doesn’t matter if he sees you like this cause it already happened but he guesses you might feel embarrassed or just not at ease, so he shuts up and does what he has to.

«It’s fine, I…» your voice trembles. You hold his wrist on the side of the tub, fingers cold and wet.

«It’s fine, it’s alright. Ssshh, don’t cry» he kneels down, his arms wrapping around you and leading your head to his chest.

«I’m not crying» you whisper, gulping down.

«You’re about to,» he caresses your hair «I’m here. I got you» he feels his throat tightening. He was so fucking worried he run two red lights while coming home, all the ones he met.

«I always got you» he coos.

For some reason, his words make you shake in his hold, a faint whimper coming out as you let the tears fall. The embarrassment and the stress about the situation, the pain of your ankle and his presence seem to mix together to combine into a perfect crying solution.

«You won’t tease me about this, right?» you mumble, voice muffled. Jungkook’s heart feels slightly reassured at your words, a weak smile gracing his lips.

«I won’t, baby. I promise» he whispers.

Your faint sobs fill the air, and he feels like his poor heart will break only by listening. His fingertips dig into your bathrobe so much it’s like you feel them on your skin, his other hand caresses your hair, his breath shaky.

He waits for your weeps to summer down and stays like this a little longer, his presence reassuring and his touch relaxing you.

«Let’s get you out of here, okay?» he asks. You nod. He’s gentle when he parts his arms from around you, gentle when he tells you to relax, gentle when he smiles at you, soothing.

«Where does it hurt?»

«My ankle» you let him know. His eyes travel down, hands getting wet in the water as he lightly feels both of them.

«There» you hold back your breath, the pain makes you grimace.

«Okay, just… can you get up? Just lean on me and don’t put weight on your right leg. Lean on me» he instructs. You follow his words and try to get up as best as you can, leaning your weight on him and keeping your ankle up. Jungkook helps you out of the bathtub, his hands coming to your back and the back of your legs to pick you up. He makes sure not to hurt your ankle with any movement, eyes on your face to check in with you without having to ask.

The path to your bedroom is silent, he lays you on your bed and tells you he will change the sheets himself afterwards because of the wet bathrobe.

«I think you need a pillow, you need to keep your ankle up» he works diligently, worry guiding him until he realises you’re set. On the bed, with the pillow underneath your ankle, comfortable, kind of.

«Do you want ice? Wait, I’ll get it with something to drink» he lets you know. He vanishes out of your bedroom and into the kitchen to get a glass of water and the ice, then goes back to the bathroom to get a towel to wrap around it so it isn’t too cold.

When he comes back, he smiles at you.

«You need to drink at least a bit» he hands you the glass. He sits next to you, looks as you gulp down the entire glass with a proud smile, his hand reaching out to take the glass back and put it on your nightstand. You stay with your mouth closed, still too embarrassed to say anything.

He puts the ice on your ankle, careful not to hurt you more than what you’re hurting already. It’s an instinct he doesn’t think of or can fight back, when he strokes your hair tenderly. It makes you gulp, heart swelling in your chest.

«I was so fucking scared» he admits, low and shaky, almost a whisper.

«I’m sorry» you really are. He was enjoying his night with your friends after a hard week of work, and you called him and made him come all the way home, worried and-

«It’s okay, don’t worry» he smiles.

«But we should go to the hospital, your ankle is a bit swollen and-»

«Not now, please» you refuse.

«Y/n, you really should»

«I know,» you nod «just please not now? In a bit»

Jungkook sighs, but he nods. He keeps the ice on your ankle, eyes on your face to check if he’s hurting you in any way to the point you feel your ears burn.

«Come here?» you ask, patting beside you. He raises his eyebrows, looking at your hand on the mattress.

«Please?» you ask sweetly.

«The ice» he says. You shake your head.

«Just for a little, please» you gulp your beating heart down. You want him close, closer and closer. You don’t know why, but you want him so close it’s getting hard to breathe.

Jungkook can’t say no to you, not when you’re in your most fragile state, telling him to lay beside you. He puts the ice on the nightstand, next to the empty glass.

When he lays on his side, his eyes instantly fall on your face, a bit of worry still painting his features.

Your hands move on their own, reaching his and bringing them around you.

The atmosphere is dreamy like, a pinkish feeling invading Jungkook’s chest as he stares at you, his arms squeezing you and your eyes getting lost in his. It’s odd, how you can feel you heart pulsate, the sound echoes in your ears until they become numb. His hold seems to calm your racing mind a bit and you find yourself craving for something you can’t really touch, get a grasp of.

«Jungkook» you call.

«Mmh?»

«I want you»

Jungkook feels like a leaf about to fall. Swept away by the wind, scared to fall but what if the fall is so sweet, so gentle? What if he can’t say no? He wants you just as bad as he wants you to want him. He wants you sweetly, he wants you lovingly. He wants you. Every part, every shiver, every fear and every night. Every fucking night. If he can’t have that, he’ll have to settle for this at least. He can’t say no to your love. And now that he realises, he thinks, this is the last time. The first time loving you and the last.

«Fuck, come» he holds you tighter.

«Come into my arms» as if you weren’t already. He stays like that, seconds passing by and his breath getting rougher, he tries to slow down his heartbeat but it’s to no use, you probably can feel it even through your bathrobe and his clothes. He wonders what are you thinking, if you want him as bad as he wants you at least sexually. It makes him breathless, how much he wishes you were his.

«I need-» he gulps «I need you close»

His body moves on top of yours, his legs in the middle of your thighs, eyes glancing at your ankle to make sure he doesn’t hurt you with his movements. It kills you, how he takes his shirt off and the light of your room kisses every single inch of his abdomen. His beautiful skin, the muscles flexing as he removes the cloth, his brownish nipples hard at the cold hair. You want to lick it, every part of him. You want to touch it, chase every ripple with your fingertips.

«Can I take this off?» he asks.

When you meet his gaze his eyes are made of something you’ve never seen. It’s not want or need, you’ve seen those already the other times you had sex, it’s just something else that you can’t quite grasp; you don’t focus on it too much, nodding your head and reaching you hands for the knot of the bathrobe.

«Wait, let me» his fingers graze yours. You stop your ministrations, watching as he unties the knot, slow. There’s something. There’s definitely something. When he took your clothes off the last time, there was eagerness in his motions. There was need.

He was scared, of course he was. You guess that now he’s just glad you’re okay and trying to not hurt you in any way. You’re glad. Glad that he takes such good care of you, glad to have him as your friend.

«Thank you» you smile. Jungkook feels his heart clench. He wishes your relationship wouldn’t be like this, for you not to thank him with that smile so uninvolved, so clear.

He nods, hands getting by your sides to not put any weight on you.

«Keep your ankle up, please. Don’t wanna hurt you» he says. You nod, again.

His bicep flexes as he puts his weight only on his left arm, his fingers of the other caressing your clavicle. He sees the shivers on your skin as he travels lower, grabbing the edge of the bathrobe to reveal your chest. He wants to squeeze you, squeeze you so tight you don’t have any space left between you, hearts beating against each other.

Your skin glistens, and he can’t hold himself back anymore. He raises on his calves, opens your robe so that every part of you is revealed, takes off his pants and his socks. His cock is hard, so fucking hard he’s afraid he’ll come just by the sight of you, but he wants to hold back. He has to, cause he wants to do this right, in the right way. He wants to love you even if you don’t notice it, at least for once.

«Sit up for me, princess» his tone is like honey, and you do as he says without complaining. The pet name leaves a weird taste in your ears, you’re not used to it.

He helps you out of the bathrobe, finally having you naked on the bed. So pretty, so exposed just for him. Something inside him doesn’t set right, though.

«Hold tight onto me»

You’re in his arms, getting up from the bed and out of your bedroom. You wander what the hell is he doing until you get to his bedroom, confusion invading your features.

«Why?»

He lays you on his bed, getting a pillow again so that you can keep your ankle elevated.

He looks down at you from the end of the bad, cock twitching and eyes fixed into yours. He wonders if it was too much of a bold move, but he guesses you wouldn’t see anything behind it.

«Want you in my bed» he simply answers, transparent and straight to the point, his dark doe eyes drinking yours in.

You just nod a little astonished.

Of all the times you had sex, it was always in your bed. Never in his. Never your perfume stayed on his sheets, never he got to swim in the illusion of having at least a little more to keep to himself, just for him. A part of you to keep, to protect in a world that isn’t yours.

He takes his boxers off, and god you wish he could be faster cause you think your eagerness will make you lose your mind. You want him deep inside you, close as soon as possible.

«Open your legs for me?» he coos. He looks at you from the edge of the bed, still standing. Your eyes travel all the way from his face to his cock, it stands straight up to his belly button, the tip red and angry, veins displayed. If you’re not seeing wrong, there’s a bit of precum leaking out from his tip, but maybe it’s just the light playing with your eyesight.

You do as he says, opening your legs as much as you can for him to see, careful with your ankle. He bites down on his lips, his hand getting to the base of his cock and wrapping around it, just squeezing it.

«I love your pussy» he breathes out. The way he sounds makes you clench around nothing and when you see his hand stroke up and down his needy cock your mouth opens in awe.

«I’m obsessed, want it every day»

You squeeze your thighs together, how can he speak so filthy but sound so angelic?

«That can’t happen» you warn him.

Jungkook nods.

«I know» he answers. It kills him. It fucking kills him, to have a taste and then having to let go of it.

He gets to the bed, kneeling in front of you, his eyes on your face.

«I want you on my tongue»

Your yearning is making you crazy, you’re so wet you’re practically dripping by now.

«Please, Jungkook»

It sounds so good, to hear you say his name like that. In such a filthy way, totally unfiltered.

«Gonna give my baby what she needs»

His hands touch your thighs, he gropes your skin with his digits, so soft it makes him want to fucking lose himself and get lost just in the desire. His sentence makes you wetter, but your heart beats louder for some type of reason.

«Please» you plead again.

«I got you» he reassure you, he lays down on your body, face close to yours. His lips are close, so close you think he’s going to kiss you but he just lays a kiss on the corner of your mouth.

«I always got you» he whispers, his eyes looking into yours. His hand caresses your cheek, something that adds too much to this, to you, to the both of you. It leaves you wordless, shaking.

A second later, he’s back between your legs, his hands grabbing your thighs in the gentlest way he ever did.

«So beautiful» he murmurs to himself as he looks at your pussy juices leaking out. It’s so fucking inviting that he can’t hold back anymore. His mouth lands on your clit, so soft and pillowy, he kisses it. A strangled moan comes out of your mouth, and he lays another, and another. His tongue starts to glide between your lips, up and down he gathers your juices and then sucks onto your clit, your back arching on the bed.

«Oh, fuck» you moan. It makes him eager. Eager for more, eager for you, ciclo by fervent. He wants it all.

He sucks on your clit again, harder and for a time that seems endless, the pleasure that takes over you is tingling and consuming and your mouth opens again in a silent moan. He lets it go with a popping sound, he blows on it, kisses it again, sucks again as his tongue plays with it. Your hands reach his hair, they tug at the strands as you moan out loud. It’s so good, so good you’re not going to last long.

«So good» your hips shoot up, whines come out of your mouth.

He feels drunk, lost in the taste of you.

«Yeah?» he coos. His tongue rubs your clit deliciously, the pattern changing from up and down to side to side and circles, it makes you lose your mind.

«What if I do this? Take all of you in my mouth?»

It’s unreal, how good he can make you feel. He takes you all in his mouth, from your clit to your hole, sucking on every part he manages to get, then sucks on your lips. His hands move on your stomach, eyes on your face as he grabs your breasts in his palms. He squeezes them softly, fingers rubbing your nipples, filthy wet sounds filling the air. It’s embarrassing, the amount of wetness through your folds, how your juices keep leaking out at just a look at him. You don’t think you can hold back. Not when he’s sucking on your clit again, his fingers grazing your nipples as he moans on it in his mouth. He doesn’t think he can get any other pussy, after yours. It’s too good, it’s perfect. Just perfect.

«Gonna- Jungkook» you shiver.

«Tell me, talk to me, baby» he moans on your pussy, his tongue poking at your hole.

«Fuck, I think I’m going to- cum»

His tongue feels so good inside you, your walls tight around it and your juices wetting all of his chin. He wants your wetness everywhere, on his chest, on his thighs, on his fucking bed.

«Please, let me see» he begs.

«Cum for me»

One of his hands come down, his fingers rubbing your clit. You don’t have the time nor the voice to tell him that you’re going to, cause god, it feels so fucking good you don’t even know how to speak anymore. You just see him, his eyes staring at you from between your legs, nose brushing against your folds, his tongue deep inside you. Your legs shake, your breathing is rough.

«Cum for me, angel»

And you do. You cum so fucking hard, you don’t even realise what is happening, how your juices flow out and drip onto his sheets, how Jungkook presses down onto the mattress to get some sort of friction, how he gulps down your juices as if they were the tastiest thing he ever drank.

He kisses your clit, your lips, every part of your pussy he can get a taste of, your inner thighs.

«Fuck, I only want your pussy» he moans, the fingers that left your aching clit now wrapping around his thickness, your juices on his cock make his skin glossy. You’re such in a haze that yes, you nod.

«Fuck, yes» you sigh. Jungkook can’t take his eyes off of you, he simply can’t. You’re so beautiful, so pretty when you’re so vulnerable and exposed for him that you make him helpless, totally fragile.

«You’re so beautiful, so pretty when you cum» his voice makes you open your eyes, finding him still between your legs.

«Come here» you struggle to let your voice out.

«Want you close»

His heart shakes.

«Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you» he breathes out, laying on top of you. His voice is shaky and you feel his hands travel from your thighs to your stomach, then to your chest. They reach your shoulders, one of them cups your cheek, his eyes study every part of your face. He looks at the flush of your cheeks, how they turned to a reddish tone, your lips swollen from your teeth biting at them, your hair messy all over his pillows. In his bed, his at least for now.

«I want you, only want you» you whine.

«You have me» he wishes you could notice, that you’d realise, look at him and mean your words just how he means them. He just rubs his cock against your folds, though.

«Right here» he moans. Cock rock hard, so fucking ready for you.

«Please» you just keep pleading, you can’t hold back. You don’t even care if you just came and your pussy needs time to recover from the tremendous orgasm you just had, you just want him inside you.

His cockhead brushes against your clit, a strangled moan coming out from both of your throats, your eyes focusing on his just to see that’s they were already there. Jungkook smiles at you so softly as his cockhead finds your hole and pushes in that it feels too much. Too much affection, to much loving. Too lovingly. It makes your insides twist and turn, and you wonder what the fuck is going on, but you don’t have time to voice your feelings cause a second later his cock is deep inside you, filling you up to the brim.

You just shut your mouth, take everything he has to give. You want it all, you don’t care.

«Fucking perfect» he whines. His cock never felt so good, your walls squeeze him perfectly, your pussy so wet he can feel your juices already pour down to his balls.

«Wrap around me,» he moans faintly «please»

Your legs move on their own, the pain of your ankle shooting up to your leg. You grimace, eyes squeezed shut.

«Careful with your leg» the worry makes him still.

«Lay it on the pillow, up» he whispers, his hand reaching your calf to guide it back down.

«Like this» he kisses your temple. You sigh when you feel the softness of the pillow and your weight supported, the pain untying a bit.

«Does it hurt?» his words soothe you and you open your eyes to look at his face. You shake your head.

«It was just for the movement. It’s going away now» you answer. Jungkook nods, his fingers brush away a little strand of hair that’s keeping your beautiful face away from him.

«Like this it’s good, is it okay for you?» he asks. His hand holds your hip, your leg wrapped around him, the other on the cushion and Jungkook’s cock buried deep inside you still. You can feel it throb even when it’s still, you wonder how is it possible that he’s holding himself back so much.

«It’s perfect» you whisper. His eyes, smile first, as they always do. His smile comes right after, and you don’t know if it’s the atmosphere or your vulnerability for everything that happened but it makes your heart swell. You want him around you, you want him everywhere, all over you, inside of you.

He looks down at you, moves his pelvis back and then forward again, you wrap your leg tighter around his waist. Your arms come around him, his passes under your back as the other stays on your hip, his cock rutting inside you makes you whimper. He kisses your neck, sucks on your skin, moans in your ears.

«Love it so much,» he shivers, eyes closing from the pleasure «getting to have you like this»

«Feels so good, Kook» you whine.

Jungkook fucks into you slow, but his motions are firm and he knows exactly where your buttons are. Apparently, it didn’t take much for him to learn, it seems like he knew them all along, from the first time.

«Yeah?» he coos, his digits dig into your skin.

«Yes» you moan out loud, only guiding him closer. His cock is perfect. You love it, could never imagine a better dick.

«Tell me, baby. Wanna hear you» he doesn’t stop, only squeezes you tighter. Your breasts against his hard chest, your nipples brushing against his skin, every curve of your body against his.

«Your cock is so perfect» you tell him. He wants to look down to where he’s inside of you but doesn’t want to miss a single thing, not even a crumb of the pleasure taking up your features.

«I love it so much, the best cock ever» your voice is muffled and your fist comes out from behind his neck to press against your lips as you speak.

«Please don’t» he whines, looking down at you.

«Wanna hear you, don’t hold back»

Your fist goes away. Your fingers dig into his skin again, surrendering to his request and letting your voice come out free.

Jungkook makes love to you. It’s so sweet and so slow but so good that you’re lost. Lost in him, lost in the feeling and the pleasure.

«Keep your leg up» he instructs, letting your hip out of his grasp. He kisses your nose, his hand travels between your legs, his middle finger on your clit.

«Oh, Jungkook, fuck» you wail, the pleasure adding up. He moves his finger in circles, up and down, from side to side, just like he did with his tongue before. It makes him jerk inside you, throb with every thrust, bite down on his lips as he looks at your face and feel your walls clench around him. Your mouth opens, eyes looking at him through your lashes, pillowy lips ready to be kissed.

«I want to make you feel so good,» he groans, «want you to think about this when you’re alone» he moans.

«I want you to give it to me, all to me. Mine» he whispers onto your lips, breath hot on your face.

«All mine»

«Fuck, yes»

Your walls are so tight, pulsating so hard.

His finger keeps rubbing your clit, he moans when he brings it a bit lower, feeling his cock pounding inside your pussy, your pussylips spread around him, your wetness gathering at the base of his cock. His balls slap on your ass, the sounds filthy and wet, so incredibly wet.

«I’m going to- yes, feels so good» you breathe hard, his finger back on your clit rubbing faster. Your legs shake and you feel his cock dripping precum in your cunt, all of his length pulsating.

«I want you to look at me when you cum,» he pleads, tone shaky «please look at me» he whines. If you weren’t on the edge already, you think you would probably be just by the way he sounds. He’s so sexy you think you won’t ever be able to get over this. You’re going to think about this for sure, hell if you’re going to.

«Kook, I- I…»

«Ssh, let go. Just let go and look at me» he coos sweetly. He’s holding back, he’s trying so fucking much to hold back that his cock is over sensitive and he doesn’t think he will last much longer. Your walls squeeze him perfectly, so fucking soft and warm around him, so wet, so beautiful.

«Give it to me, love» he doesn’t notice, not until he says it. It just slips out, naturally. You don’t say anything, head burying deeper in his pillow and your walls tightening around him.

You come all over his cock. Your juices make it harder for him to control his pace as you contract sp tightly all over him, his cock still moving inside of you, your arms wrapped around him. You’re trembling but you still find the strength to cup his cheeks, eyes looking at him for all the time just like he asked you to. You watch him as he moans, fucking into you with the same pace, his cock so hard. One of your hands travel down, between your bodies and down to his cock, his tight balls in your hand. You cup them, massage them a little. Jungkook’s features grimace, a loud whiny moan filling the air as your fingers on his cheek caress his skin.

«So beautiful. Cum for me, please» you plead. His heart beats so loud it’s going to explode, and a second later he’s shooting his cum right deep inside of you, hot, thick and long spurts of cum filling you up to the brim. His lips touch yours, as he keeps cuming. They brush against each other and a second later he’s succumbing to them, moaning into your mouth as his hips fuck his cum into your pussy, your leg still keeping him close and you fingers on his cheek.

The kiss is slow and not really controlled, his tongue touches yours and brushes it, your lips eager for each other but moving slowly. It kills him, the way you wrap your arm around him to bring him closer as if he wasn’t all shattered into pieces already.

You kiss for long, he still fucks himself into you slowly even after coming down from his high, your body still tight to him. When you part, you feel your chest on fire. His eyes look glossy, his lips red and wet, his baby hair sticking to his forehead. His movements stop, the last trace of a kiss on your clavicle right where it all started, and then he comes out of you. He lays beside you, eyes staring at your face. Silence fills the air, your breaths the only thing audible.

«Kook» you call.

«Yes?» he hums.

«I need another shower» you laugh.

The atmosphere is odd. It’s thick. You want to go out of your bedroom and ask him what is going on exactly but for some type of reason, you’re holding back. There’s just something in the air.

Last week has been weird.

You would come home when Jungkook was already there to find the dinner on the table, covered with a plate so it wouldn’t get cold, some days with a post it.

I already ate, I’m going to bed, I’m a little tired.

I’m going out, but I cooked you dinner. Rest well.

Work was hard today, I’m going to sleep.

Since the two years you’ve been living together, you’ve always made sure that the one coming home later had something to eat, without having to cook when you’re both too tired. You do it for him too, when he comes home late. That’s what you did on Thursday and Friday, but when he came home you weren’t expecting him to literally eat and go to bed after putting his dish in the sink.

The dinner was odd too, he made small talk, but there was something that didn’t feel right, as if it was a bit awkward. When you both stayed home on the weekend your friends filled the place on Saturday, and on Sunday, he just spent the day in his bedroom beside coming out to make lunch and dinner together.

You knocked on his door once or twice, asked him if he wanted to watch a movie or just chill together, but he said he was tired.

Something is off. Maybe he’s really tired, at dinner today he mentioned that work has been hard lately.

You start to wonder if you should be worried. If Jungkook is stressed and needs someone to talk too, if you’re being just a shitty friend and shouldn’t give him all this space, if you should grab him by the shoulders and tell him to talk to you about what is going on. He doesn’t seem to have closed up with your friends though, on five days he spent three evenings at their place this week. Maybe it’s just you seeing things.

You should talk to him, cause you’re worried, and you miss him. You miss your friend.

«Jimin’s on his way too» Eunji announces, grabbing a pile of glasses. She places one for each of you on the table, then takes a look around.

«I think everything’s set?»

You nod, Hana and Jin appearing by your side with the side dishes.

«Let’s put them on the table» Jin grabs six of them all together.

«Yah, don’t order us around. This is my house, not your restaurant» Yoongi slaps his hyung on the ass, his friend glaring at him. Hyunjoo shakes his head at the scene in front of her, her belly has just started to grow, three months into pregnancy. She looks so beautiful and happy that your heart throbs in happiness.

«Where are Namjoon and Jungkook?» she asks.

«Namjoon will be here in ten» Hoseok answers.

«I’ll call Jungkook» you announce.

You’re about to go to get your purse, but the door rings, so you wander towards it. Jungkook stands behind it, soft hair reaching almost his shoulders, his bangs framing his pretty face. His eyes stare directly into yours, eyebrows cocked.

«Oh, you’re here?» he asks, as if he wasn’t expecting it. He stays still on the doorway, hands by his sides.

«Yes?» you smile as best as you can, not really knowing what to do.

«Everyone is here» you remind him. Jungkook nods eagerly.

«I know» he nods again. You move to the side to let him in.

«I was about to call you» you say. He takes his coat off, hanging it with the others.

«I was stuck in traffic,» he shrugs «I thought it was the same for you, since you worked late too today»

«Oh, no. I left earlier» he nods. And then, it’s silent again. You just stare at each other.

He doesn’t know. How to do this properly, how to go back to who he was, the friend you had before he realised it was too much to hold back. Every time he looks at you, it’s too much. He feels like you’re taking all the oxygen, leaving him with the smallest amount and not able to breathe properly. He tried. He really tried. He told himself that yes, it can be fixed. He repeats it to himself everyday, but something just makes him stop. He’s too… he guesses he just needs space. To get over you, to learn how to look at you differently, just like before he knew, when he was younger. Maybe he won’t ever be able to go back at that point, but at least to when it was bearable to look at you from afar and just have a small part of you?

«Jungkookah!» Teahyung yells from the kitchen. Yoongi peeks out from the living room, he smiles brightly at his youngest friend, his arm wrapping around his shoulders.

«Leave him alone, he just got here» he yells back at Taehyung. In a bunch of minutes, everyone is gathered in the living room, sitting on the carpet and ready to have dinner. It’s been a while since you all gathered to have dinner together, and the atmosphere is light. Everyone is laughing at something, new jokes being made and happiness shared. It makes you appreciate what you have, how every single person in this room means something to you, something beautiful. You’re lucky, very so.

But as you go on, you can’t help but go back to your old habits. Searching for Jungkook’s smile in the midst of the laughters, look for his eyes when you start to talk about something that happened to you during the day. You find him nodding at someone, eyes going back to his dish when you speak. And you can’t help but feel in the wrong. He’s mad at you, maybe you did something to make him upset, something that apparently is very much important to him. This has to be the reason why.

You realise how much you value him. His thoughts, his words, the way he makes you feel like there’s someone you can lean on, someone who’s got you. You realise how easy it is to enjoy his company, to feel happy thanks to him, to feel loved. And how cold it is without him, lost.

You’ve always been inseparable, since you were sixteen and he was nineteen. Your pieces fixed together so perfectly that you didn’t have to worry about fighting with each other, cause you both knew that nothing was going to change between you. You went through so many things together that you can’t even remember all of them clearly now. He’s your safe place. And even though you know that this is perfectly fixable and actually nothing too dramatic, you just feel lost without his complicity.

«Y/n?» Hyunjoo shakes his hand in front of your face, her striking smile brings you out of your thoughts. You nod.

«Oh, yes I’m listening»

«You don’t know what you’re doing» Namjoon’s hand falls on Jungkook’s thigh, lightly slapping it. He shrinks on his side of the sofa, eyes shutting down.

«I know» he whines.

«That’s at least something» the hyung scoffs.

«Did you talk?»

«No» he lets out. If it wasn’t already clear enough, Jungkook is in very much need of advices.

«We just…»

«What?»

«We don’t speak-» he stops to gulp «like we used to»

Namjoon can’t believe what he’s hearing.

«What? Why?»

«Cause we simply don’t, it’s complicated»

«It really isn’t» he fights back, slapping his hand on his thigh for a second time.

«Why?»

Jungkook sighs.

«I just… I think I need time to- get over her or whatever this is, I-»

«You have to talk to her, Jungkook,» he shakes his head, unbelievable «if you don’t, she’ll think there’s something wrong. You have to be clear and-»

«I can’t» he bites down on his lips, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. Sleep is getting to him and the fact that tonight he didn’t sleep well makes it even worse.

«I can’t tell her»

«It’s worse if you don’t! Your friendship is not going to be fixed magically»

«That’s the reason why I need time» he blubbers.

«And the reason why she’s looking so gloomy» Namjoon’s response dejects him even more.

«I know I’m being a dick,» he stares down at his feet in the slippers «but I can’t lose her»

Silence is the answer that accompanies him. The cheers coming from inside the room sound muffled, the light of the moon softly grazing his skin. Just the thought of you not by his side sends a shiver of fear through his spine. He doesn’t want to get to know what it is like to be without you, he can’t.

«Don’t you think that maybe a part of her… at least a small one-»

«No,» his voice is faint «not a small one, not even a bit»

It stings. So fucking much, it burns.

Namjoon sees it clearly, the pain written all over his features. To be truthful, he’s always noticed it, even when Jungkook didn’t know. He saw the way he looked at you, his smile when someone mentioned you, the way he would talk about you or what happened to you the day before, the way you made him laugh while doing the dishes, how he was ready to put you first, even before him. It actually makes it hard for him to understand, how it took all this time for Jungkook to realise.

«Even when you were- like intimate?»

Jungkook’s eyes shoot right to his hyung’s face. He always tries not to think about that, for as much as he can. Even though, some nights your hands on his skin haunt him, your moans in his ears, your taste on his lips.

«I don’t think so»

«Did you kiss? Like, or I don’t know, was like- two friends having sex or- what was it like?»

Jungkook wishes he didn’t ask. Cause bringing the thought of you looking so vulnerable and ready for him in his arms sends back feelings he tried so hard to hold back in the last two weeks.

«It was…» he takes a deep breath, letting the air out from his mouth.

«Consuming» his breath gets stuck in his throat.

«We were just…» he shakes his head «it wouldn’t be the same for her. I loved it in a different way»

«Maybe,» Namjoon pats his shoulder gently «but how was she? Like, was she like the

Y/n you always hang out with? Like- you know, how awkward it can be when two friends fuck, come on» he chuckles lightly, not really wanting to be explicit about the two of his best friends.

«She was sweet. Like, so sweet. The last time, she…» he closes his eyes, munching on his lips. The scene playing in his mind leaves him in agony, it’s pure torture to remember you in such a crude state, all for him.

«She was in pain. When she called and we were at Taehyung’s place-»

«That night?» Namjoon’s eyes shoot wide open, mouth hanging as the youngest nods.

«She was in pain, she hurt her ankle. But the way she looked at me, kept me close… the way she opened up to me just- it kills me to remember her in that way» he sniffs. His eyes are glossy. He wishes there would be a better way, an answer written somewhere, a safe recipe to follow.

His friend understands that he can’t ask more. Jungkook is in pain. And he wishes he could do something about it, even though he knows he can’t. So he just hugs him, his hand patting the youngest head to comfort him at least a bit.

«Jungkook!» you yell from your living room. You’re tired. It’s becoming too much, and you need to talk, right now.

You don’t hear any answer, so you stride to his room. The knock on his door makes him grimace, eyes staring directly at it.

«Come out,» you stare at the white wood, arms crossed in front of you «please» you add, voice softening.

He lets go of his clothes, laying the folded pieces on the bed more carefully than the others.

«I cooked you dinner, I left a post it» the door opens, revealing him in all his height, hair still a bit wet from the shower. The black hoodie he’s wearing makes him look smaller and it involuntarily warms your heart a bit.

«You said you were going to sleep» you murmur.

«I am» he says.

«You’re not,» you shake your head «you’re mad at me. Did I do something wrong? Please, just tell me, it’s killing me»

Jungkook stares at you blankly. His eyes scan your features for what seems to be an hour. He shakes his head slowly, guilt takes over him, the displeasure clear on his face. He softens, a step towards you and all of his defences fall down.

«I’m not mad at you» he’s sweet, voice covered in honey.

«You aren’t?» your arms fall at your sides.

«You’re mad. There’s something off, you’ve been ignoring me for the last two weeks»

«I-» he cuts himself off, closes his eyes for a second.

«I wasn’t… I…»

«Please, just talk to me» you plead. You can’t stand this atmosphere, not with him.

Jungkook shakes his head, his arms wrap around you in a tight embrace, it’s all he can do.

«I’m sorry. It’s just that work has been rough and I’m all over the place, just- I’m sorry»

The knot in his throat is getting thicker, but he can’t say more. He knows he’s been a dick, a total idiot.

«You say that but I…» you shake your head on his shoulder, your arms move around him and you feel him sniff.

«I promise there’s nothing wrong» he whispers, he moves his hand up and down on your back to soothe you, the other keeps you close.

«I’m sorry»

«Talk to me»

His hair tickle your skin, the itch makes you rub your face on his shoulder to tone it down and his hand fists the cloth of your shirt.

«If you feel like you need to vent or just… anything» your back shakes, and he knows you’re about to cry. Tears don’t fall though, you try as best as you can to not make your sensibility take over you even though your eyes are burning.

«Ssh, don’t cry, please» he sounds pleading, voice faint and shaky. It’s killing him for real, to not open up to the person he loves the most, you’re his best friend, his person. And he just wishes so much his feelings never showed up, that he didn’t look at you so differently from the way you look at him.

«I will. I will, I promise» he blows.

The atmosphere in your house feels light. It’s back to normal, with Jungkook walking around the place on a Thursday night, his voice echos in the kitchen as he wipes the floor, one of the songs he’s been listening to lately getting sung over and over again.

«Jungkook, you need to see this» you call from the sofa. His eyes travel to where you are, the light of the kitchen shines stars in his irises and the beanie he’s wearing makes him look so cute. He leaves the broom carefully balanced on the side of the counter, his feet tiptoeing towards your spot. He squats down, eyes squinting at your phone.

«Woah!» his excitement makes you giggle as his hands zooms in the picture.

«It’s our niece? I need to call Yoongi hyung! Did he send it to you?»

You nod, a big smile on your face.

«Wait, how do you know it’s a girl?»

Jungkook shakes his head.

«I can feel it» he beams.

«Where is my phone?»

«I think you left it on the sink» you answer. He nods eagerly, getting back up. The way he hops all the way to the sink makes your turn and laugh, he’s so dorky you want to slap his cute little ass.

«Fuck, I stepped on the dirt!» he whines, stopping right away. You laugh even harder, hands grabbing your stomach as he huffs and gets his phone. He comes back to the couch, falling on it with a thud and raising his feet on his knee.

«Don’t do it here!» you scold, still laughing. He simply giggles, wagging his toes at you.

«Clean it for me?» he laughs. You want to puke.

«Ew! What’s wrong with you?» he laughs so hard you start laughing again too, looking at him as he just simply wipes it on the carpet. You roll your eyes, pinning a mental note to vacuum it later.

«Aigoo, I never walk without slippers and now this happens» he complains, shaking his head.

He quickly finds his hyung’s contact and puts the call on speaker.

«Jungkookah» Yoongi’s voice fills the room, the younger smiles brightly at the screen.

«My hyung is going to be a dad! Yah! Bring us out for dinner» you slap his thigh, glaring at him. Yoongi laughs, totally expecting his request.

«I will. You saw the ultrasound?»

«Of course I did,» he nods «I feel like it will be a girl. Am I right?»

«We don’t know yet. It’s too soon, but I don’t think so. Hyunjoo says it’s a boy»

«Really?» he narrows his eyes.

«How was it?» you ask, the excitement is uncontainable. You’re so happy for your friends, can’t wait to meet the little one.

«I cried,» he laughs, «I thought I would hold it in but I cried. Fuck, I’m so happy Y/n»

«I know,» you chuckle «how are the cravings?»

«Ugh, getting worse» he whines.

«I came home and she was eating pickled cucumbers,» he moans out of disgust «made me go back to the supermarket cause she needed mustard. Couldn’t she just send me a text before» he shakes his head even though you can’t see him.

Jungkook chuckles, his body getting limp on the cushions.

«That’s what you get for making me clean the ten servings of noodles you spilled the other day»

«Yah! I had to set the table!»

«You were the one who spilled all!» he fights back.

Jungkook is really trying. And it’s going fine, it’s not hard to enjoy his days with you, it is never been. You just have chemistry together, you laugh almost all the time and never find it boring to be together. It’s just.

It’s just the way his eyes linger on your rosy cheeks too much, he has to remind himself to look away, back to the movie playing on your tv. Or last night, when you were dancing to your favourite girl group’s new song, the way your lips curved into a beautiful smile, hair flying in the air and he had to hold back his smile, too big.

If he looks back to all these years, it makes him laugh, how fucking long it took him to realise how much you had of him. You spent entire days together and he would still do the same as he does now, stare at you mindlessly just for the sake of admiring you, then getting back to what was happening around him. It’s always been here, this feeling. It just took him so much to come to surface and even when it did he tried so hard to make it go away, push it down inside him until it became too much too bear and it hit as fucking hard as what you mean to him. All he repeats to himself is that he just has to do what he’s been doing all along, right? He lived with this for years, a day more won’t hurt him.

«What are we doing tomorrow?»

He eats the last bite of pizza, cleaning his hands with the tissue.

«Yoongi’s taking us out for dinner» you answer, getting up to clean around. You grab the boxes and the glasses, the coke under your arm.

«We have to go grocery shopping» he adds. He sees you nod, you put the boxes on the counter and the glasses in the sink, make sure the coke is well closed and then put it in the fridge. It’s almost empty, the redness of the gochuchang box parked on the first shelf stands out too much with nothing beside it.

«Yes» you nod.

«Are we going early? We can have breakfast out»

He gets up from his spot, waddling to you. A big smile is all you need to understand his answer. Breakfasts out are the best.

Breaksfast out means getting up on time. Something you both struggle with, since you spent yesterday night awake until late. Jungkook has the tendency of staying in bed until he’s at least a bit awake, staring blankly at something as he sits up, eyes puffy and hair messy. You just storm out of the bed knowing that if you don’t you’ll fall asleep again in a matter of seconds.

You knock on his door, no answer in sight.

«Jungkook!» you call again. You hear the shuffles of the covers, his cute mumbling words that haven’t been invented yet.

«Get ready, let’s go have breakfast» you say. You hear him moan as he stretches, take it as your chance to go back to your room and shower.

It takes you both twenty minutes to kind of be ready for your day, your eyes both puffy and a bit red. You decide to go to your favorite cafe and when you arrive a wave of excitement washes over you. It’s been so long since you had a nice and relaxed breakfast outside, the feeling of being free the whole day and not having to worry too much. Jungkook watches you smile as you order and play with your phone as you both wait for your food, his pinkish lips curling up into a beam. It feels good to see you like this; relaxed, happy. It reminds him of when you were younger, with less burden on your shoulders.

When you go grocery shopping together it usually ends up with him pushing the cart and you filling it up, he points at a snack from time to time and you end up adding it to the rest. You come home for lunch, watch a movie right after until your eyes start to fall shut, so you decide it’s time to take a nap. Jungkook stays on the couch, wanting to see how it ends. You fall asleep well, sleep for two hours straight until your alarm rings. Silence fills the house when you wake up and you guess your friend is probably napping too, so you tiptoe out of your bedroom to get a snack, until you hear him.

He’s working out judging from his grunts coming from the bedroom in front of you. You’re used to it, Jungkook likes to stay active and just fills his time like this from time to time when he has time.

Just, this time your mind wanders. You hear his sounds, picture him sweaty and with his muscles flexing, his eyes focused and his jaw clenched, his breath rough… until you’re wet, pulsating. You hold your breath, close your eyes. And you go back to your room, shut the door.

Scenes of him eating you out play right in front of your eyes, his moans. You end up on the bed, your trousers off and your panties pushed on the side of your lips. There were times when the thought of him in this way turned you on after you stared fucking but you always pushed them away, telling yourself that it’s not right. Just, this time they hit you harder. It’s been a while since you had sex and the way he sounded just makes you want to open his door and… you shouldn’t do that. Just focus on you, you think.

Your fingers graze your clit, go lower to get your wetness on your fingers then go back to their initial place. You see him between your legs, his fingers inside you and his dark doe eyes staring directly at you. You hear him whisper, telling you how good you take his cock, how your pussy wraps so good around it, how good you make him feel.

The image of his cock fills your mind, leaving you with the need to suck it and hallow your cheeks around it, his grunts filling up your ears, the sweetest sound ever. You feel his fingers, delicate and warm, they touch you and caress you, his kisses on your lips.

You see him on top of you, telling you to be careful with your ankle, eyes worried and arms wrapped around you. You feel loved, for a second. A kind of love that doesn’t belong to a friend. You feel admired, beautiful. The way he looks at you with pure affection makes you hiss, his words in your ear and your bodies tight.

Feels so good, getting to have you like this.

See him pounding into you at the slowest pace, his fingers gracing your clavicle, his hair on your shoulder. The way he checks in with you to make sure that you’re enjoying this as much as him, begging you not hold back your moans.

Gonna give my baby what she needs.

You shiver, legs shaking.

His fingers on your clit, his cock brushing against your walls with each thrust, his whines. The way he called you.

Ssh, let go, his voice faint as the pleasure takes over him, his balls tight, give it to me, love. You cum, silent and incredibly hard your orgasm hits you like a wave during a thunderstorm, impossible to hold back and too good to decline.

You lay on the bed, breath stuttered and eyes shut. Your heart beats too loud.

The first time you had sex it just happened. You don’t know what exactly went through your mind, the reason why you had to start it all; your body moved on its own. Jungkook was tired, arrived late at home and was sleepy. You cooked him dinner, kept him company while he ate even though you had dinner already. You listened to him whine about his day, the tiredness evident in his voice. A few minutes later you were on the way to your bed, already too intertwined with each other and with the new feeling bubbling up between you to stop whatever the hell was happening.

The second time, it was pretty much just the same, you didn’t go to each other with the intent of fucking, but you ended up just like that, with his cock in your mouth and his eyes on your face.

The third time, it was because you ended up talking about what was happening and how you should behave, how you should keep your friendship away from your rendezvous. It stared just like that, but again, you didn’t really behave that much.

And then, the last time.

You never once went to each other with the intention of fucking. You wonder when is it going to happen again, in what way, the reason that could start it all. Would it be so bad if you just grabbed him and started it? Does that make your relationship different ? It would, you guess. But is it any different not looking for it but don’t say no when it happens? You don’t even know why you’re thinking about such questions, when you should be focusing on work. Today was stressful, you had a ten minutes lunch break because you had to go back to the papers on your table. You’re tired and your period is on the way which is probably the main reason why you’ve been feeling horny for the last four days. You should just leave it as it is or take care of it on your own, not really into casual sex with strangers or clubs. You wish you were more like Hana sometimes, enterprising and more likely to be ready to have some fun before she used to date Jin.

Your phone rings, displaying Jungkook’s name.

«Hey» you answer.

«I’m bored» he whines from the other side. You picture him with his head falling back and his eyes shut, pouty lips.

«What should I do?» he stretches the last word out, childish tone.

«Cook me dinner please?» you try.

«Already did,» he huffs «when are you coming home?»

«I have so much work to do, I don’t know»

He whines again, leaned on his stomach his cheek is squashed against the cushion of your couch, arms by his sides and his legs kicking the air.

His voice comes out muffled: «Please, I’m so bored» he complains.

«Jungkook, I’m working» you sigh.

«Can I come?» he stares at the screen pleadingly, his ankles crossing as he flexes his toes. He eagerly takes the phone in his hands, eyes stuck on your name. He had a long day today, and even though he wishes he could go to bed already even though it’s only 8 pm, he’s not feeling sleepy nor tired, quite the opposite actually. Being alone in the living room is boring him too much, and he doesn’t feel like going to to someone else’s place, giving the usual noisy meeting they usually have. He just wants to relax, but not on his own.

«Kook-»

«I’ll let you work, I promise» he begs, «I just want company»

If he could be an emoji, he’d probably be the one with the moist pleading eyes. You know it, the expression he makes when he craves for something, and that’s exactly your weak point.

A deep sigh makes his way out of your mouth, he can hear it from the phone. Silent follows right after.

«Okay, bring me food though please? I’m starving»

«Yes!» he punches the air with a fist.

«I’ll be there in ten, I think. Just text me what you want to eat»

«The dinner you already made?» you ask. Jungkook licks his lips, this time the silence fills his part of the call.

«Okay, then be there in twenty I guess» he huffs.

You shake your head, what a moron.

You realise in this period you’re really all over the place. And you also ponder, how long is it been since you had sex with someone? Not Jungkook, someone else. Jungkook is your friend, you shouldn’t think about him when you’re touching yourself to get some stress out or just when you’re craving for sex. It’s not right, it’s not the place of a friend. It’s making you stressed, to think about sex and link it to his face in your mind. You shouldn’t have done it in the first place, you think. You also thought about telling him that it can’t happen again, but it seems like it’s not going to happen anyway. You’re glad.

So for once, tonight you let Eunji and Hana take you to a club, with just the intention of trying to take your mind off of it. Your methods didn’t work until now, so maybe theirs will. Your friends know you too well though.

«There’s something wrong, I smell your frustration from here» Eunji inhales dramatically, a grimace forms on her face right after.

«Ew, it smells bad. Like onion and soju mixed together» she likes her tongue out disgusted. You laugh, Hana shakes her head.

«That’s the guy behind you» she points at the man dancing his ass out on his own, totally drunk.

«For real though, what’s wrong?»

Both of their eyes linger on you. You sigh.

«Just feeling a bit overwhelmed» you shrug. Your friendship it’s deep, meaningful, full of memories, you know you could tell everything to them and they would understand. You could even tell them about the rendezvous you had with Jungkook, but that would put you and him in a not so comfortable position with your friends, the last thing you want is for them to think that you have sex with each other consistently.

«I’ve been sleeping with someone» you announce. Eunji coughs on her drink, Hana’s eyes shoot right open. They stare at you as if you have two heads, still on the dance floor.

«Oh, come on! It’s not that shocking. I-»

«We need to sit» Hana takes you by the hand, Eunji following right after. The couches are not really big, but you fit into one without any problems. The people are less here, the smell of alcohol and sweat too, thankfully.

Their attention goes back to you; «Is he someone we know?»

«Why would you? No,» you shrug «you don’t know him»

«Is he good?» Eunji sips from her drink. That’s a weird question, not the one you would firstly expect from her.

«What? Why?»

«You seem stressed and you said it yourself that you’re overwhelmed, so it’s either one of the two: he’s so fucking good that you can’t stop thinking about it or he totally sucks» straight to the point. Hana caresses your shoulder, glaring at Eunji for her ways even though you know that deep inside her she wants to laugh.

«No! He’s- I mean, he’s… good. It’s something else that bothers me»

«What?» Hana coos.

«He’s my friend, and it just happened. Different times» you explain.

«So you’re fuck buddies now?» Eunji raises her eyebrows.

«No! It just happened, we don’t do it often. I just… I don’t know how to explain it, it’s not like we see each other in that way. We have a good friendship, like- we value each other. Every time it happened, it’s not like we were expecting it or-»

«That’s worse, I guess» she shakes her head. You’re about to say something, but her words leave you wordless.

«What, why?»

«Listen, I don’t think you can be friend and still sleep with him. If you had sex, that means you’re attracted to each other. Even if it’s not in a romantic way, it just… If it just happened, girl, there was sexual tension between you. I guess» she adds the end just because your expression is giving her shivers. The look on your friends’ faces screams panic.

«It would be better if you had a clear answer on what you are. Like… mmh, you know I’m bad at explaining things!» she whines, «Hana, please help»

Your friend sighs.

«Y/n, is this thing still happening? Like, are you still sleeping together?»

You shrug.

«It’s been a while,» you let out «actually, that’s the problem»

«You want to-»

«No, I don’t» you cut her off.

«I realised that it’s getting too much. Like, I think of him too much in a sexual way it’s making me feel uncomfortable»

«That’s what I meant» Eunji nods.

«I’ve been there. Remember Hyun?» she chuckles.

Of course you remember him. The guy was not really close to her, but it was the start of a friendship still. They used to have sex everywhere, their friendship ended up with them fucking each others brains out, after two months, they couldn’t bare it anymore. The atmosphere was heavy, too much sexual tension without even really having a conversation. The fact that Jimin started to find interest in Eunji made her end it even faster.

«We’re not like that though. We have a good friendship, we trust each other and-»

«And you have sex. Not regularly, it happens without any expectations. So it means that you don’t see each other as fuckbuddies, but there’s sexual tension. That’s the base for a relationship. If you put sex into the mix, you end up with butterflies in your stomach. I’m just saying that if you value him that much you should be careful. Understand what you want» her voice softens at the end, but you’re too upset by her words to notice. Eunji hates to be the one saying this, but she has to try at least. You need to know what you’re doing, set some boundaries wether you decide to do something or the other.

«Y/n, you know that we love you. Eunji’s just trying to-»

«I know» you nod, a knot in your throat.

«I just… I need to go home, need to clear my mind and sleep over it» you sigh, monotone. Your hand grabs the pochette laying by your side, eyes scamming the club that suddenly seems to little. You shouldn’t have slept with him in the first place. You know that you don’t feel feelings towards him, but thinking about him in such ways… it makes you feel guilty, like your friendship could lose its meaning, like it’s stained. Like it could get out of control. It’s too much to think about him when you’re alone deep at night, like the last one, his face invading your mind when your fingers are deep inside you, even though you’re trying not to picture him.

«Now?» Hana asks, the worry in her eyes is clear. A glance towards Eunji and they’re both nodding, communicating with each other without having to speak. They know you too well, they could see the panic in your eyes even with theirs closed.

The way back home it’s short, the music playing in Eunji’s car does nothing to ease your mind even though it’s your favorite girl group, your friends glance at you from time to time from the rear view mirror. When you get off and say goodbye, they wait for you to shut the door behind you to look at each other, eyes wide open and jaw hanging.

«Jungkook» the name is crystal clear, both of them letting it out with a shocked expression.

«It’s fucking Jungkook» Hana nods.

Jungkook didn’t think that coming back home early meant this.

You said you had company, texted him twenty minutes before he got off work, but he wasn’t expecting this kind of company. He was expecting Eunji and Hana, maybe Taehyung or some of your friends, a coworker maybe. Definitely not you getting fucked in your bedroom by someone he can’t identify.

This is torture, it’s all he can think. When he arrived nothing seemed weird or odd, expect for the fact that he found the living room empty. As he started getting closer to his bedroom, he realised. And fuck, the slap he got on his face, the punches that hit him on the stomach and on his chest left him breathless, his injuries in pain and itching, his eyes shutting.

This is torture, it really is.

He moves from the hallway, goes to the bathroom to wash his hands and wet his face with cold water.

He can’t stay here, not in such a moment. Not when he can hear you like this, with someone else. It hurts. Fuck, it fucking hurts, it stings, it tears him wide open all the way from the inside to the last layer of his skin. His eyes burn, lips twitch. And suddenly, he’s sobbing. Sobbing in his bathroom, his reflection pitiful and broken. His breath is rough, cheeks stained from the tears, vision foggy. A whimper comes out of his mouth and he bites on his lower lip, repeating to himself that it’s okay. But it’s really not.

Jungkook’s eyes are swollen, puffy. You think it’s because he’s still half asleep, but when you meet his eyes you’re taken aback. He looks tired, as if he didn’t sleep well, but they’re a bit red. He cried? You didn’t hear him coming in yesterday night, you knew he worked late and left him dinner ready, but when you woke up today his food was just where you left it, the table still set.

«Kook?» you coo from the counter. He hums in return, head hanging low on his shoulders and eyes staring down at his legs, he sits on the couch with the tv playing in front of him.

You turn around, wash your hands quickly and dry them with a paper towel. You tiptoe to the sofa, glance at him from the side. Your senses are tingling, there’s something wrong.

«Kook, look at me?» you ask sweetly. He stays still, fingers fidgeting on his lap. He thought you were still sleeping, his room felt too tight to stay in it any longer. He wishes you had different opinions on open spaces, when you were looking for a house. Maybe you wouldn’t have seen him with a wall dividing the living room from the kitchen, and he would be tiptoeing back to his bed already.

«Please?» you try.

It’s to no use. All you can do is gulp, worried for what’s going on.

«Is something wrong?» you ask.

«Did something happen?»

He doesn’t answer. He knows if he opens his mouth now he will start crying again. Maybe you should just sit beside him and wait for him to open up. You turn around the table, take a sit next to him and pat him on his shoulder.

«Koo» you call again. He doesn’t even look at you. Your hand stays there, trying to give him some comfort but it only makes him want to break in a loud cry.

«Please» you whisper.

Yesterday, he thought about going over to Namjoon’s place or just anyone else’s, but he didn’t want to show how miserable he was. Thankfully, that guy was out ten minutes later. What a fucking joke, if he found just a bit more traffic coming home he wouldn’t be feeling like shit now.

Your hand leaves him, you get up and for a second his lips tremble, his walls falling down as he thinks you’re giving him some space. But then, you kneel down. In front of him, right between his legs with your fucking beautiful eyes staring at him. Your expression changes; the worry gets more urgent, pressing.

«What happened?» you’re breathless. You’ve never seen him like this, it scares the shit out of you and he can see it perfectly. You reach your arms around him, his breath cuts off.

«Don’t» he whines, voice faint, pleading. You don’t understand what is happening, your head is spinning. You put your arms back down.

«Talk to me» you whisper. He has tears in his eyes, his lips are red as if he’s been biting them all night long. He turns to the side, his eyes burn when he stares at the wall without blinking. His lips tremble.

«Koo, please. I’ve got you»

The dim breaks. His chest shakes, expression contorting as the first tears start coming out. He sobs faintly, shakes his head to himself and looks down to the ground. It’s physically painful, to see him hurting this much; you wish you could take it all away from him and make it yours, if only that was possible you’d do it even if it hurt ten times more. It couldn’t hurt more than this, though.

Your hands wrap around him, holding him so tight to you that you feel his sobs vibrate against you.

«I’ve got you» you soothe him, caressing his hair. With your warmth around him and your caresses, everything falls down into pieces. Every part of him breaks harder, the tear gets wider and deeper, your words of reassurance fill the wounds up but don’t sew them, they just make them heavier to the point that they pierce him and make him empty. Your hold suffocates him and your warmth is painful, your caresses bluffer him.

«I- I c- Please I-» he shakes in your hold, not able to speak. Your eyes burn, seeing him like this it’s atrocious.

«Breathe» you beg, holding him tighter.

«Please breathe for me Jungkook, breathe»

He hears how your voice is shaking, sniffles as he tries to breathe properly, sobs bubble up from his chest when he inhales. Your cheek brushes against his neck, you leave a kiss out of comfort and his hands instinctively fist your shirt. He tells himself to slow down, think properly and hold back but with your loving arms around him it’s a nightmare.

«Ssh, it’s okay. I promise» you whisper. Time slows down, you just focus on his breathing. One thing at a time, you tell yourself. You, need to calm him down first, you need to see him breathing properly, at least a bit lucid. Stroking his back up and down you think about what you can do to make him relax. You’ll make him some tea as soon as he’s doing better, it will soothe him at least a little bit.

«I’m here for you»

Jungkook’s breath moderately calms down, his sobs still come from time to time, but you have all the time in the world. You don’t care about how long it’s going to take him to stop crying, you just know that you want to be here, need to. It’s desperate, the need you have to make him feel better, almost consuming.

«I’m- ngh- I’m sorry» he hiccups. He buries is face in the crook of your neck, his cheeks are still wet and his hair tickle you.

«So sorry- I’m really-»

«Ssh, it’s okay» you repeat. You keep stroking his hair, Jungkook seems to quite down the more you do it, his hold gets firmer too as if he’s trying to anchor himself.

«Did something bad happen?» you try.

He moves in your hold, making you squeeze him tighter until you realise that he’s looking for a way out, so you let go. He wishes it was this easy, that his feelings could let him free just as easy. With you between his legs, it gets hard to breathe again. The way your eyes linger on his face, scan every feature and every expression, even the way he bites the inside of his cheek.

«I… I’m sorry» he mumbles low. This time, his eyes look at you. Clear, transparent, vibrant fear lingers in them with so much weight that it takes away your braveness. Jungkook’s eyes stay in yours even while they fill up with tears again, they don’t budge. The knot in his throat gets back, your presence suddenly feels blissful and he wishes he could just linger in this feeling. The feeling of you being close even if it’s only like this, keep being satisfied with only having a part of you.

«It’s- too painful» he breathes.

«What is it?» you look at him from down, with your glassy eyes and he just-

«I- I… I love you» his voice trembles.

Silence fills the room.

His words make a dull sound in your head, your body stiffens, lips ajar. Jungkook is frightened, totally stuck in place. His heart beats so fucking loud that it will explode.

The shock it’s too big and it stops you from letting the three words sink in, all you can do is stare at him blankly as he holds his heart in front of you.

«I’m- I can’t,» he shakes his head «it’s too much. I just… it’s killing me»

«You…» you gulp «you don’t mean it that way, right?» your voice trembles.

«It’s just- we-» you shake your head, take in a deep breath.

«We shouldn’t have- it’s because we had sex. It has to be because of that cause you didn’t-» you stop talking.

Jungkook stays silent, his chest burns, the tears in his eyes get uncontainable, until he breaks again. His shoulders tremble and he sniffs but it’s so silent that it’s even more consuming. He looks at you with such eyes, such vulnerability and fear at the same time, as if he was a stray puppy and you his possible saviour or his next predator. It scares you. And you understand his answer, because you know him, because it can be seen from miles away.

It’s not because you slept together.

«I need-» it’s hard to breathe properly «I need air»

He’s confused, he mistook his emotions, most surely. It has to be that. How can- how can it be not? You’re his friend, his best friend. The one he likes to tease, the one that knows him almost as deep as he knows himself. The person he- this can’t be right. It simply can’t.

You can’t come back home. You really can’t, he needs space to think this through; you need it. You need peace, somewhere to relax, to just don’t think. If you go to Eunji’s place maybe- she will ask. Hana too, and what about Jin and Jimin? Maybe a hotel room is the best choice, in that way you won’t receive questions, no one will get curious.

Thank god you had your phone in your pocket when you went out and weren’t wearing home clothes. You book an hotel room not too far, call a cab since you left your car keys at home.

You can’t face him now.

You walked a lot today, wandered around without a destination and ended up sipping a bottle of strawberry mogu mogu on Han river. Your phone buzzed at lunch time, then again at four pm, another time just fifteen minutes ago, but you didn’t take it out of your pocket. It scares you, because you know that it’s him.

Your hotel room is a beautiful one, has a big double bed with fluffy pillows, big bathtub, snacks in the fridge, a beautiful view on the eighteenth floor. The big buildings and the city lights make you feel small, the look of the man at the reception desk too. He probably doesn’t care about the reason why you’re here instead of sleeping at home, but your mind does. Maybe then, you’re the one who makes yourself feel small. Still, you don’t want to care. You can’t go back home, not now. What would you do? What would you tell him, how would he look at you? You need time.

When you lay on your bed, your phone buzzes again. You breathe in as you open the messages.

From Jungkook🐰 12.37pm

I’m sorry. I cooked you lunch, I left the food in the oven so it will still be warm when you come back. I ate early to give you some space. I’m really sorry

From Jungkook🐰 4.13pm

Where are you? Please be safe. Your car is here, do you want me to come and pick you up? Or I can call a taxi. Just, please be safe

From Jungkook🐰 7.54pm

Y/n, I’m worried. It’s dark outside and I went out to look for you but I just don’t know where you are. I cooked you dinner, so if you come back it will be in the oven too. Just text me so I know that you’re safe at least, please

From Jungkook🐰 8.33pm

I’m really sorry, please come home. I’ll go to Taehyung’s place if you need to be alone. Where are you? It’s dark outside and I’m really worried

Guilt takes over you, makes his way through every single part of your body until there’s not a single piece of your skin that isn’t drenched with it. Your fingers move on the keyboard, eyebrows pinched together.

From Y/n🧸 8.36pm

I’m safe. I booked a hotel room for tonight, so don’t worry. I need a bit of space, so I don’t think I will be back tomorrow.

Jungkook’s fingers never typed an answer so fast.

From Jungkook🐰 8.36pm

I was so scared that something happened

From Jungkook🐰 8.36pm

Please eat dinner and don’t skip your meals

From Jungkook🐰 8.37pm

I won’t text you if you need space. Just, do you want me to bring you your car keys? You left them here

From Y/n🧸 8.39pm

No, it’s fine.

From Jungkook🐰 8.39pm

Okay

From Jungkook🐰 8.45pm

I know you don’t want to talk right now, but I just need to tell you this: I will always have my arms empty for you, whenever you need a safe space I will be here. As we’ve always done with each other. Please remember this. Sleep well

You wonder how is it possible, to be friends with someone for so long and don’t notice that there’s more. You wonder when it begun, how. Where did the friendship end and the love begin, the boundaries. Which one of his gestures where made out of friendship, which were made out of love. How did he realise. Why you.

For the three days after you left home, all you told yourself was that he was confused, that he mistook his feelings, that it can’t be true. After you spent yesterday night walking in the streets, took another walk on the Han river and even dared to eat dinner on the riverside, a good look at the waters took your mind back to his eyes. To the way he looked at you, his eyes clear, transparent and full of vulnerability and fear when he opened up to you. What if, he’s always been in love with you, it’s always been this way. What if he’s not misinterpreting his feelings, what if he really loves you.

It scared you even more than the day before.

You never saw him that way, your friendship has always been just friendship for you. Until- well, it’s still friendship. Eunji wouldn’t say so, but for you it is. So where does love start for you? With attraction most of all, you guess. With the want and the need to feel someone in more ways, physically, emotionally, sentimentally. With wanting to be whole. Love is… butterflies, feeling loved, giving love, taking care of each other. So where is the boundary? The boundary of friendship.

Because fuck, today you start to wonder, you think that Eunji is right.

What do friends do? Are you not allowed to feel all of that and still call it just friendship? What if, what if you are the one mistaking yourself? What if it’s something else, what if it’s not just friendship anymore. When did it start, when does it end. You’ve always craved this things with Jungkook. Always craved for physical touch, maybe not in a sexual way before, but what if you just didn’t ponder on it too much because you’ve always restrained yourself into thinking that you were just friends. You’ve felt the need to share, to the point that you got a home with him. You’ve always wanted him emotionally, always were ready for him in whatever occasion, always felt close to him. You’ve always felt loved, you’ve always gave love back. You always took care of each other with all yourselves.

Would you do all of that for any of your friends, for Taehyung, or Namjoon maybe?

You’re not too sure. You don’t think so.

Is it the same with them? Of course not. You would do anything for them, but you guess it’s not in the same way, not as deeply.

What about before, even before the first time you had sex. Because maybe, it could be that you’re thinking this just because you slept together? Like, you could be the one mistaking your emotions now.

You still felt this kind of connection before, though. With the Jungkook who was just your best friend. You don’t feel it for Namjoon who’s just your friend. You don’t feel that kind of tight embrace around you when he lingers his eyes on you for too much, his laughter doesn’t make you giggle like Jungkook’s. You don’t feel lost when he’s not talking to you or not meeting your eyes when you look at him. You wouldn’t want to have anything more with him in the first place, cause he’s just Namjoon. And for god’s sake, you wouldn’t have wanted it with Jungkook neither, if you didn’t feel already more. The fact that you were already ready to just welcome him in when the opportunity of being closer knocked on your door, well… that’s the answer. You still remember it, the frustration of seeing him so tired and the need to make him feel better after a shitty day, the need you had to take care of him when you first slept together.

You were never just friends. Maybe in the first place, maybe at the beginning, maybe when you were younger. You just simply got used to him and his presence, never really gave your eyes a chance to see clearly, never really made yourself look at him differently because he was just… your Jungkook.

But, what now? Is he still- Jungkook? Like, your best friend? Now that you realised, now that you understand the reason why you wondered when the next time was going to be, how; the reason why his eyes slipped in your mind at night, his words, the way he called you the last time you slept together.

Now that you realise that, could you go back to who you were before? Just, craving for his touch but telling yourself that it’s not okay, looking at him and wishing you could take away all of his tiredness but thinking that it’s normal, for a friend. Wanting to take every part of him and know it all, looking from far away, peeking out and stealing some but not getting it whole. Could you still do that? Cause before, you didn’t know at least. Now, could you? Sentimentally too, would you be okay with it?

Jungkook just wants to go to sleep and forget about the shitty day he had. He didn’t sleep well tonight, the house feels to empty without you and last night his brain just wouldn’t stop working, kept wondering about you. If you had dinner, what time did you go to sleep at, how much did you work, if you finished the last drama you were watching.

Today, it was pretty much just the same. The fear of you not coming back insinuated in his mind at some point during work, he even took a break and had a snack but he just kept picturing himself inside your house, all alone. Him without you, his best friend and his person. He typed on your chat for multiple times, asking you if you were eating your meal correctly, how work was going, if you were craving for ice cream just like he was, he texted sorry too, but he always ended up not sending the messages.

He’s tired, work was rough and he wishes he could just go back in time to ask you what you want to eat for dinner, he’d cook it even though he’s tired as hell. He wouldn’t sleep for three days straight, if that would be able to bring you back just to have dinner together.

He hates to know that you feel uncomfortable with him, can’t come back home because he’s there, that you won’t look at him in the same way as you did before. He hates to not have you by his side, when just a look could make him happy.

The guys packed him on the shoulder, told him that he did the right thing, but he doesn’t think so. These days have been hell. There’s not a day that goes by that he doesn’t think about the way you looked at him, how he stuttered those words out and doesn’t regret it.

Today they all had lunch together, with Eunji, Hana and Hyunjoo too. It was so odd to not see you there that he kept spacing out all the time. The girls didn’t talk about you and he even though he wanted to he didn’t ask because probably you didn’t tell them what happened.

The elevator doors open and the end of the hallway looks so far from here that he wishes he could teleport. Even the passcode of your door seems too complicated to enter now. He types the first three numbers, his eyes glued on the screen.

The door clicks, a grimace on his face, lips pouty in confusion. Then, your face.

Jungkook looks at you as if you hung the stars in the sky, as if you were one of them. His eyes open wider, lips ajar, his shoulders fall down. He feels like he’s dreaming. Is it real? You’re home. When did you come, why? What- fuck, he feels like he’s going to cry.

The way he looks at you with his big starry eyes, it makes you gulp. How your fingers tingle for the need you feel to squeeze him tight and never let go. There’s a knot in your throat and all you can do is stare at him and linger in the feelings that hit you like a fucking bucket of cold water. And it’s bitter that they taste like they always did: the sweetness is the same, the audacity just bolder now that you let the door open: but they taste just the same. All this time, all these years. They’ve always been in front of you, you’ve always been way to deep and only realised after so much.

«I… I- I cooked you dinner»

He doesn’t budge, still on the doorway and with his eyes glossy. You reach your hand to him, Jungkook still stuck in place as you gently grab his wrist to make him come in, his body almost stumbling at your touch as he enters.

You close the door behind him, leave his wrist.

«You- you… what? Are you…» he shakes his head, totally astonished.

«You cooked?» his tone makes your lips stretch into a smile.

«I cooked,» you nod «I cooked us dinner»

You didn’t think your heart could beat this fast. You really didn’t notice it for all this time. Every time it happened you always blamed it on something else, not the man in front of you. When his words would make you feel comforted, when you’d search for his eyes in the room, when just his presence was enough to make you feel at ease; in every moment the emotion you’re feeling now would bubble up in your chest just for you to push it aside without even noticing, a tag with the label friendship covering its true pinkish colour.

«Take your coat off» you coo. Jungkook stands still for a few seconds, still stunned. His eyes stare at you blankly until he nods. He puts his bag on the ground and hangs his jacket, you watch him move, eyes lingering on every part of him that you missed too much. His long hair, the bangs on his forehead, the mole on his nose, the one right under his lips. When he raises his eyes and finds you staring, you don’t move your eyesight. His eyes pierce right through you, deep and transparent just like the last time. They are scared, vulnerable and totally defenceless; if you looked closely enough, maybe you would’ve always seen it.

«Jungkook, I…»

His arms wrap around you.

It’s tight and soothing and the fucking consuming. You squeeze him in your hold, your head falls on his shoulder and you know that you can’t hold it in any longer.

«I’m so sorry,» you sniff «I was selfish. I’m sorry. I- I just-»

«Ssh, it’s okay» he sniffs too. The tears burn his eyes as he tries to keep them in but having you here in his arms makes it harder. He feels you hiccup, your back shakes, your hands fist his shirt, and your nose muffles into the crook of his neck. He clenches his jaw, squeezes you tighter.

«I’m sorry too»

«I was so scared. I just- I didn’t realise»

He knows, fuck he knows. He just wishes you wouldn’t vanish away. Don’t, just don’t cause he doesn’t think he will be able to forget himself.

«It’s okay, you don’t- just please don’t leave me» he whimpers.

Jungkook breaks down in your arms. He loves you too much, values you too much to not have you in his life. He doesn’t care how much he has to hurt or hold back, he can’t do this without you, without his best friend. The house felt so empty without you.

«I won’t,» you sob «I promise I won’t. I’m sorry I made you worry and left. I needed time and- I- I needed to think» you sniff. His hands stroke your hair and you let go of a deep breath. You missed the feeling of his caresses, how his touch is always been enough to sooth you.

«You didn’t do anything wrong» he whispers. A tear streams down from the corner of his eye, it tickles his cheek and makes him loiter in the warmth of you even more.

«No, I- I was selfish… you opened up to me, and I- I left you. I’m-»

«You’re here,» he whispers «you came back. You’re here with me, you- you didn’t leave» his voice breaks and you feel him tremble. Your heart clenches and stings in your chest as he nuzzles his nose into your neck.

«Just- please,» he pleads «stay with me»

Your dim breaks. You shake your head, lay your lips on his neck. He whimpers as he hiccups and when you lay a soft kiss on his skin Jungkook feels like dying inside. Your lips are so soft. Your nose brushes against him, another kiss laid on his skin just right upper, then another one and another one until you’re just under his jaw, his breath unstable as the tears wet his skin. Your hands leave his back, your body parts slightly, his hands reluctantly let go of the hold he has around you. You cup his cheeks, soft and reddish from the crying, look at him in those beautiful stars. They’re a bit swollen from the tears, his cheeks are damp, his lips trembling.

«I was so fucking scared that I didn’t realise»

«Me neither,» he nods «but it doesn’t- it doesn’t matter. Just don’t leave. I can’t-» he gulps harshly.

«The thought of not having- you by my side, it killed me. I- I couldn’t sleep, work was hell, I-»

«I’m not leaving you» your hand tenderly strokes his hair. Jungkook stay still as you dry his tears with your thumb. You want to slap yourself for causing him so much pain, he must’ve felt so scared already and you just- you just made it harder. You should’ve talked to him, should’ve faced him.

«I promise» you smile softly. Jungkook could implode for how happy he feels right now, with you smiling at him just in the same way as you used to. Your lips tremble and a new hiccup comes out. His arms go back to where they were before, they squeeze you to him and it’s so familiar and bittersweet, it smells like home and trust and all you can do is let go in his embrace.

You let the rest of your tears come out, hear his breathing slow down, feel his heartbeat against you. You kiss his jaw, your lips tickle his wet skin, your hand reaches behind his neck and Jungkook wishes he could just take his heart out of his chest and step on it, make the feelings go away. But it’s just too saccharine, the way your lips linger on his skin for a second too long, how you perfectly fit in his arms.

«I want you,» you whisper «I want you whole» you lay another kiss on his mandible.

«I want every part of you, every- everything you can give» you peck his chin, look at his eyes. Jungkook doesn’t understand, his eyes wide and glossy stare at you as if you were telling him to solve the hardest mathematical problem ever. Still, he looks at you with such tenderness that it makes your insides twist. He’s lost, totally.

If his love could be represented, he’d paint you in pinkish colours, then in black and white, in blue and all the colours in the world. He’d make a different version every time just to admire at your face some more, to keep the next one to himself when the lights will make the one before fade, so he’ll always be able to meet your eyes just like now. Remember the feeling you light up in him.

«I love you»

It’s odd, how lives intertwine. How people can take and give from each other pieces that can’t be seen, how two roads that never meet can lead to the same place. It’s beautiful, the way you speak. It’s dreamy. Its dreamy, the way you look at him, the way he used to look at you for all this time, it’s beautiful how your lives intertwined, how you became each other’s mystery and answer at the same time. How you’ve walked together for all this years, silently hand by hand but without ever looking down at them, not even knowing.

Jungkook laughs. He laughs as his tears fall down and he thinks that maybe the world will end, cause his head is spinning. You chuckle and your eyes are wet, and suddenly your hands cup his cheeks again.

«I love you» you repeat. He shakes his head, sniffing totally in disbelief.

«I do» you laugh, nodding. His head stops. His eyes widen slowly, the look on his face makes you bite down on your lips, it’s like seeing the sky clear after a thunderstorm, as if the sun was peeking out from behind the dark clouds. His mouth opens.

«I do» you whisper.

Suddenly he wants to cry even more. Your lips lock with his and it’s so gentle and sweet, and oh god, so consuming. You take all the space, every cellule of his body, all the air in the room, in the house even. You leave him breathless, lungs burning on fire. His lips are soft, wet with tears, salty. Jungkook whimpers in your mouth, his hand reaches your face and fuck, there’s no end. No end to how fucking much you have of him, how much of him is yours.

His thumb strokes your cheek, his other hand falls on your waist. His tongue is warm, his eyes shut, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks, both of your hearts pounding. You kiss slowly, sweetly, lovingly. You wish you could never let go, have him like this forever. And for the first time your thoughts are the same as Jungkook’s in this moment. If he could read your mind, how big would be the smile stretching on his face. Jungkook smiles on your lips, his teeth brush against your tongue, his digits on your waist lightly dig into your skin. When you part, your eyes are still shut, foreheads pressing against each other.

«I’m sorry,» you mumble on his lips, he shakes his head, pecking your lips with such tenderness «I’m sorry it took me so long to realise»

Jungkook is the happiest man in the world.

You came back, you’re in his arms, you love him. You fucking love him, you do.

«It’s okay, it’s perfect. You- just please come to me» he guides you close to him again, you shut your mouth when his warmth wraps around you, his eyes shut. You don’t want to let go, you won’t.

«Jungkook» you call softly. He hums against you neck, his lips dare to peck your skin and he can’t fucking believe that he gets to do it cause he simply can.

«When did you realise?»

«I already knew» he murmurs.

«But… on Eunji’s birthday… you came back home and were so drunk. You slept with someone else and I just- I guess my feelings were so strong that I couldn’t control them anymore»

«I slept with someone?» you ask, your head shooting up too look at him. Jungkook nods.

«You said he had a pretty dick» he chuckles for your choice of words, even though he can still fill it sting. Just the thought of you in someone else’s arms makes him heart clench.

«Oh! No!» you laugh, «Jungkook, I didn’t sleep with anyone. He was peeing outside of the club and I was so drunk that I kept repeating him that he had a pretty dick for all the way home» you explain.

«Ew, it’s so embarrassing. Eunji made him take me home because he’s her brother’s best friend»

Jungkook can’t believe his ears. His eyes are about to roll out of his sockets for how wide they are.

«You- I thought…» he shakes his head.

«I didn’t, you know I don’t feel comfortable in those type of situations» you shake your head.

«Even though… last week I-»

«I know» he murmurs.

«You know?» he nods.

How does he? You don’t understand, how is-

«I came home early and- I… heard» his words are faint, a thin line that holds all the pain his heart was stained with. It echoes in the room, gets back to your ears until your eyes widen and you feel disoriented.

«So you-» you can’t even process your words properly «I’m so sorry, fuck» you really don’t know how to apologise. He was at home, while you were under another man. He heard you. His eyes were swollen the next morning, that’s why. He couldn’t even look at you.

«If I knew, I wouldn’t- I…»

He smiles softly, his heart clenches.

«You’re in my arms now» his lips tremble slightly.

«I just kept thinking about you and when it was going to happen again. I kept telling myself that we shouldn’t have slept together in the first place, I felt guilty that I thought about my best friend in such ways and- I- I told myself that it was happening because I hadn’t slept with anyone else for a while»

You do your best to explain without getting your words intertwined, but Jungkook’s expression doesn’t change into an angry one, he doesn’t glare at you, doesn’t budge. He just nods, smiles sweetly.

Love can be blind. It can blind you to the point that you can’t see straight, can’t decipher what’s happening. You were scared, lost.

«I hurt you so fucking much» you whisper.

«Maybe it had to happen, for us to be here» he whispers.

«I don’t care about anything,» he strokes your hair «It hurt. But you’re here with me and I just- I just want you close to me»

His arms hold you just for the sake of it.

His warmth is intoxicating, the sound of his breath too. You wish you realised sooner, you wish that he didn’t have to hear you in such circumstances cause the pain on his face the next day was unbearable. When he saw you the next morning, all he could think about was you under someone else, your skin against his, your eyes looking at him in the same way you looked at him. The same thoughts that teared him apart for all night long. But now, it doesn’t matter. It was just a step that had to be taken, in a way or another. It was just something that guided you to him, in his arms right now.

Something in the air shifts. All your senses tingle, they scream for him and his touch just the same as Jungkook’s. He wants to have you, the most vulnerable part of you, like no one else ever did. You want his lips and his caresses, his eyes deep into yours.

«Let’s go to bed?»

His breath catches in his throat.

«I want you closer than this»

The path to your bedroom never felt so good to walk on, with Jungkook’s fingers digging in your hips and his lips on your neck. It’s thrilling, the feeling running through your body. It’s saccharine, sugar coated. Your hands in his hair fit so good, the way you whimper when you stumble cause you can’t see in front of you, how he chuckles on your lips.

«I want you in my bed,» he breathes on your lips «wanna keep you there all night long»

Fuck, the way he makes you melt in his arms with just a few words. You nod eagerly, letting your hands run on his back. Jungkook can’t hold himself back any longer, gripping you by your thighs and kissing your neck, his lips are wet and with the air your skin fills of shivers. His fingers dig into your skin as he moves towards his bedroom.

«I want you so bad» you whine.

«Gonna give it to you baby, everything you want»

The door is shut and Jungkook doesn’t seem to want to let go of holding you as he kisses your lips. It’s too much to ask of him, after loving you for so long. You’re too breathtaking, too perfect.

«Let me» he kisses you again «open the d-» another kiss. You laugh on his mouth, his giggles fill the air as he keeps pecking your lips.

«Kook, the door»

He smiles big, turns around to make you open the door without letting you go. It stays open when he walks inside, doesn’t care at all and just walks to the bed, leans you down on his sheets.

«Take it off» you mumble. He moans when your hands reach his skin under the shirt, nuzzles his face into your neck. You lift the cloth, Jungkook kisses your clavicle, his lips get as low as your shirt permits, his nose brushes against the swell of your breasts. You pinch his back, giggle when he whines.

«Want you naked» you remind. He laughs and looks into your eyes, totally drunk.

«You’re so impatient» he sniggers, making you smile and turn. Your cheeks grow red as your eyes look at his nightstand.

«Look at me»

His fingers reach the hem of his shirt as you turn again, he lifts it more and takes it off from between your legs; the view makes you salivate, his muscles on full display, his brownish nipples getting hard with the cold air.

«Want me to take my pants off too?»

You want to smack his ass but you refrain yourself, you know he’s just teasing you like always.

«Shut up» you shake your head. His fingers reach the button of his pants, he slides it through the hole, pulls the zipper down.

«Let me» you sit on the bed. You kiss his neck, let your fingers graze the skin of his chest, your touch makes his cock twitch, hard and swollen in his boxers. You let your hand pass over his navel, down until you reach his dick.

Your hand lingers on it, Jungkook’s head falling back.

«Fuck, you’re too much» he moans.

«Make me so hard by doing nothing» he hisses. Butterflies fill your chest, your hand squeezes him through the cloths and you feel yourself getting wetter as he lets out a rough breath. God, the sounds he makes. They make you want to surrender to him and his pleasure, you feel the need to take him in your mouth as if your life depended on it. His hands go back on your body, fast fingers fist the material of your skirt.

«You’re too impatient» you mock. He hums a soft giggle looking at you.

«I am» he admits. Your sneaker in response makes him smile big and he lays his forehead on yours. He looks at you with those eyes, all the stars in the world couldn’t be as bright and magnificent as them and you can’t help but dive deeper and deeper.

«I want to make love to you, wanna make you feel so good» and it feels so good to be able to say it out loud. To let you know.

You kiss him, really too impatient to hold back any longer. He helps you out of your skirt, takes your shirt off, makes you lay on the bed as he takes his pants and boxers off, his socks too. And fuck, the way he looks. How fucking gorgeous this man is when he’s just standing in front of you with his cock hard and standing proudly, cockhead red and swollen, skin exposed and the tattoos on his arm on full display.

«Fuck, come here» you beg. Jungkook doesn’t let you repeat it twice, his body hovers yours and you open your legs to welcome him. He kisses your right hip, his lips are wet and they tickle your skin, make you squirm under him as he cups your breast from over the bra.

«Fuck, I love you» he hisses as he looks up at you. You can’t control the beat of your heart, too lost in him and how much youu’ r been missing. You can’t believe it took you so long to finally understand. Your lips part as you stare down at his face, his dark eyes on you. He kisses your stomach with his eyes in yours, the scene makes you so wet that you wrap your legs around him and Jungkook’s cock brushes against your panties. He moans, the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard, his mouth is still on you and the lace of your panties feels so fucking good on the underside of his cock that he shuts his eyes. He can feel your wetness even through them, they are soaked. Fucking hell. Your legs squeeze him more as you look at him, his mouth open and eyebrows pinched together. You lift your hips, to give him some friction. Hic cock twitches against you and you let out a breathy moan that makes him open his eyes.

«Oh, fuck» he moans. It’s guttural and so fucking sexy. You can’t wait to hear more, you want to make him crazy.

«Grind against me» you breathe. His cock twitches again, his jaw clenches. He lets you pull him closer with your legs, keep him tight against you until his cock is practically glued to your panties, your pussy totally soaked. His hands cup your breasts and he squeezes them gently while looking at you, your head digs into the pillows, a moan escapes your lips and Jungkook can’t help but do the same. His hips move tentatively, his cock rubs against the lace and the pressure gets to your clit. Your moan makes him whimper, your voice so sweet that it makes him repeat his movements. He can feel the outline of your lips from your panties and it’s fucking killing him.

«Fucking panties» he hisses, somehow making you laugh.

«Mh, what?» he smiles at you, his cock still brushing against your throbbing clit. You bite your lips.

«Nothing, just you» you shake your head. The pleasure is so good. Jungkook keeps smiling as he kisses the tip of your nose.

«Me what?» he asks, his fingers get under the strap of your bra, he pushes it down on your shoulder.

«Just you,» you smile «I don’t know»

He’s so fucking happy.

«Am I funny to you?» he bumps his nose against yours. His movements are slow and controlled, his thighs glued to the back of yours, eyes right deep into yours. He moves his hand under your back, his fingers fumble with the opening of your bra.

«Sometimes» you laugh, cupping his cheek. You kiss him sweetly, Jungkook smiles on your lips as he lifts the bra from your chest, he guides the straps down your shoulders and your arms until he lets it fall on the ground. He pecks your lips once more, finally fondles your breast with his hand. Your nipples are hard and he wants to tease them until you squirm under him. His cock jerks when you moan under him, the pads of his fingers brushing against them.

«Kook» you whimper. He kisses your neck all the way down to your chest, his lips lock around the pebble of your nipple as he teases the other with his fingers. Your back arches, mouth opens.

«Feels so good» you breathe. He flicks his tongue repeatedly, sucks lightly as he ruts his cock up and down on your clit. Your legs tremble, he lets go of your nipple and takes the other in his mouth. It feels too good.

«Fuck»

His hand travels on your stomach, his fingers pass your hip and reach the inside of your tights to caress it softly, tickling your skin until he presses his cock against you with his palm, his cockhead heavy on your clit. You squirm under him as he kisses your neck, his moans fill up your ears as he works his cockhead on it.

«Tell me you’re mine» he nuzzles his face into your skin. His balls are so tight he could cum right now.

«Jungkook, I’m going to-» you can’t even speak, you’re so close your blood is running hot in your veins. The pleasure it’s too much, it keeps building up and you just want to succumb.

«I’m yours»

«Only for me» he grunts.

He parts his cock from your pussy. You want to ask why but a second later his fingers link around the hem of your panties and he pushes them down onto your thighs and over your knees until they pass your ankles and get lost in the room. The need to take a good look at your wetness stops him from pushing his cock back to where it was. He stares down at your lips, parts them with his fingers and fuck, he wants a taste. Your juices are leaking out from your hole so deliciously that he can’t hold back and gathers them with his thumb.

«So fucking wet» he praises.

His lips wrap around his thumb, sucking on it and tasting you, his cock twitches as it stands angrily. You taste so sweet, so delicious for him that he promises himself he’s going to make you cum like this tonight, eat every drop, swallow all your sweetness. And then start all over again.

«Wanna be the only one who gets to taste your beautiful pussy»

Your hands grab his wrist on your leg as you nod.

«I promise» you whisper.

Jungkook lays on top of you again, he lets his wet thumb brush against your nipple as he his cock parts your lips and slides back between them. Your folds feels so good against him, the sensation makes him bite on his lips as he suppresses a loud moan. Your nails dig into his back as you look at his face, so fucking beautiful. It’s paradoxical how you think he looks like an angel when his cock it’s sliding against you so agonisingly.

«I want you to cum like this» he breathes.

He pushes his cockhead against your clit, rubs it in circular motions and then up and down, from side to side. Your juices mix with his precum, it’s so fucking wet that your juices drip on his sheets. He wants them to smell like you, to remember the way you smell when you’re working and he’s waiting for you at home, wants your juices to fucking claim his sheets.

«Can you do it? Cum all over my cockhead, baby. Do it for me»

Fuck, how couldn’t you. It’s too much. Especially when he’s asking you like this, looking at you like you’re the essence of his world.

You nod quickly, your chest raises up and down at a torturing pace and Jungkook can’t take his eyes off of you. He loves you so fucking much, you’re his. Fucking his.

«I’m- fuck, I’m going to cum»

«Me too, baby. Cum with me?» he sweetly brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, he kisses your cheek with such tenderness and sincerity and your heart just can’t process it. It explodes in your chest, your legs shake and suddenly you’re whimpering and squeezing your eyes shut, your head digs into his pillows, your walls tighten. Jungkook grunts, pushing all the length of his cock against your folds and wrapping you closer to him in his arms. He cums so hard that his head falls on your chest, his moans muffled against your skin. His cock jerks, his cum wets your stomach and drips down your thighs and onto the sheets, a bit of it on his abdomen and chest too as he lets himself lay on top of you.

It’s blissful, the way your fingers stroke his hair as he breathes harsly, he feels his heart pound and his insides melt. You stay silent, look at him just laying in your arms. You never felt so light, so free as now. Love can be blind, so blind that something so special had to wait all this time to finally be seen; all these years and your souls intertwined in every way possible, the roots of your plants were always in the same pot. You were so used to his presence and his leaves that you didn’t realise how much soil you shared, how deeply were intertwined your roots, how they held each other up with such tenderness and love. You want to see his flowers, want to share your water with him, you want to bloom and wilt with him, you want it all.

«I love you»

You caress his cheek even though you can’t see them, his eyelashes flutter against your chest and he raises his face to look at you, then rests again on top of you.

«I love you too» he answers. A big smile. Starry eyes, rosy cheeks, messy hair, totally love drunk. And you couldn’t love it more. You pinch the apple of his cheeks, he scrunches his nose and pouts his lips.

You feel attacked, seriously.

«Why are you so cute?» you whine. His giggles fill the room as he gets up. He lays beside you, wraps his arms around you and squeezes.

«I want to spoon you» his fingertips dig into your hips as he kisses your shoulder. You huff contently, turning around. His legs intertwine with yours and Jungkook rests his head in the space between your shoulder and neck, his chest tight against you.

«Are you comfortable?» he pecks your cheek. It’s perfect.

You nod and shut your eyes, lingering in the feeling of the moment.

«Don’t sleep» he whines, pinches your hip.

«I haven’t finished with you yet»

«What? I’m tired» you laugh. You really aren’t, but you like to tease him. Your eyes open, head turns slightly to look at his eyebrows furrowing as he frowns.

«It’s not true» he blubbers. Fuck, how can he look so adorable in such a situation? All naked, tight against you.

«It is,» you pout back «I’m really tired» you fake a yawn. His head falls on the pillow.

You stay still for a little, then decide that you want to look at his pretty face. He wails as you turn around, clearly not okay with it.

«Let me spoon you at least»

«Wanna look at your pretty face» you puff at him. His body relaxes and when you turn around the view hits you like a truck on a highway. His hair are messy, long strands following sweetly the roundness of his cheek as he stares at you. His eyes are round, doe-like, incredibly profound they capture the light of the room and exhibit it perfectly, stars scattered across their skies. His lips are red, and it’s because of you. You caress his cheek, brush the strands away. He smiles largely, his hand grazes the back of yours and squeezes it, his other one behind your back so sweetly that you melt.

«You can fall asleep on my chest» he murmurs. You shake your head.

«I was just teasing you,» you giggle «don’t wanna sleep now»

He huffs, faking annoyance but it’s just really endearment.

You graze his chest with your fingers, tickle him with the nails as you slowly move up and down. His cock is still hard, the tip red.

«You’re… you’re still hard» you breathe.

Jungkook looks at you, the way your eyes stare at his cock on his abdomen, a big smile stretching on his lips as his cheeks grow a little reddish.

«Can’t help it baby,» he simply says «it’s what you do to me»

He doesn’t lead the conversation anywhere else, as if he doesn’t intend to do anything about it, a dreamy sigh leaving his lips. He stares at you in awe, he can’t believe he gets to do this. In his arms, you naked and relaxed, laying down to stay. You don’t get up to leave his mattress and go back to just being friends, close but not close enough, a heartbeat away. Laying with you feels ecstatic. It’s the forbidden fruit, the one he always craved for; the intimacy of it, being in your rawest states and still trusting each other in such a profound way, getting to see each others fully in every way possible, physically, emotionally.

«Love» you whisper. His big eyes look straight at you, his heart stumbles in his chest.

«Last time… you called me love»

«I… couldn’t hold back» he shakes his head, nuzzling into you.

«It felt different from the times before, it was…»

«I was making love to you» he mumbles. The way he clings his chin to the fist of his hand on the pillow right after makes your stomach clench. The silence creates a foggy haze in the room, but you still see each other clearly. He must’ve hurt so much, for so long. You want to make him smile. You want to reassure him, make him feel loved just as he did to you that day.

«My baby» you whisper, leaving a peck on the tip of his nose. He scrunches it and smiles big at you.

«Let me do the same- » you kiss his lips and although the intention was to go for just a peck Jungkook’s lips keep you attached to him like a magnet «and make you feel good?»

«Mmph…» he moans as soon as your hand reaches the base of his cock. You feel it twitch, watch it as it gets even harder in your hand. Jungkook gulps, shuffling on the mattress to get comfortable. The view of your pretty little hand around him makes him longing, yearning to have you all over him. He doesn’t even have to wait after cuming already, he knows he could be ready for you right now. And when you stroke him, oh god, the sound he makes… you wish you could record it and play it all over again and again.

He folds his arms, rests on the back of them to look at the view properly, head up and chest raising roughly.

«Fuck, I love it» he hisses. You lick your lips, get closer to him on your side as you let your hand pull his foreskin back, his cockhead furious and leaking precum already.

«You like it?» you coo. He looks at you, your lips wet and your eyes gawking at him. You make him powerless just by doing nothing. Your thumb touches his slit.

«Shit, yes» he moans.

«Love it, I love it»

You smile at him. Jungkook can’t take his eyes off your face and your hand, not even for a second. When you gather his precum and stroke it all over his cockhead he breathes hard and suddenly he craves for a taste of you. His chin points at you, lips pouting as his cock pulses in your hand.

You peck his lips, tighten your hand around him and twist your wrist. He moans loudly, his head falls back.

«Fuck» he cries.

«You’re so beautiful» you whisper.

«Want you to feel so good»

He nods lazily, his eyes shut. Your hand is… perfect. Just perfect. It makes him thaw under you, for you, until he’s just whining and moaning, totally lost.

«You- nnngh- you do»

You push his hair behind his ears, you don’t think you’ve ever felt this feeling. This kind of excitement while doing something for someone else, only for him. This part of you is his, tied and bound to his soul.

«All the time» he shivers.

«Every fucking time you- fuck» his moan is high pitched, desperate. He’s losing his mind, it’s too much when you stroke his cock and have your pretty eyes looking at him so sweetly, holding all the love he always wished to get from you. It’s too much, and he just wants to explode.

«Every fucking time, you don’t even realise,» he shakes his head «you- you just, fuck I love you»

It’s brutal, how he takes your face in his palm and pushes your lips onto his, brutal for your heart. Such a crook.

The kiss is messy, sloppy, totally heedless. He just wants you close, it’s just for the sake of feeling you more, and it makes you so wet you feel your juices drip down your asshole.

«Love you- so fucking much» he whines. You kiss him more, stroke his cock until his balls are tight and Jungkook is squirming on the bed, his sounds creating the perfect melody for your ears, his pleasure skyrocketing until he just knows he has to stop you.

His hand wraps around yours, stopping your movements.

«Want you,» he hisses «wanna cum inside you while I feel you close» you couldn’t resist such a plea even if you wanted to.

You smile at him and nod, your skin is on fire just at the thought of it. Jungkook’s hand tickles your side as it descends on your hip, his digits dig into your skin. He goes to sit up but you stop him with your hand on his chest.

«Huh?» he hums puzzled, his lips forming an “o” and his eyebrows high.

«Let me» you smile. Fuck, he feels like cuming already.

«Let me take care of you» you whisper. Jungkook hisses as he lays back down, soft strands of hair spread on the pillow and starry eyes look at you while you straddle him. He doesn’t know if you resemble more an angel or the devil himself with your love surrounding him and your dangerous touch, but maybe you’re the collision of both.

You lay down to kiss his lips, a soft and gentle kiss that makes him yearn even more just because it’s ohso lovely.

He must’ve been blessed, cause when you let your hips grind against him and he feels the warmth of your core he feels like he’s in heaven. Maybe you’re an angel, most definitely the prettiest of all.

Your lips feels so fucking good that his cock jerks and he has to hold back himself from cuming.

«Fuck, wait-» he hisses.

«I don’t think I can- I need to desensitise a bit or I- I’ll cum»

You stop your movements and lean down to kiss him some more. You caress his cheek, Jungkook’s arm can’t help but keep you close and tight against him. Your soft breasts feel so good against the hardness of his chest, your hair hanging down from the side of your face. His hand squeezes your asscheek and a cheeky grin appears on his face.

«Feels so good to get to do this» he pipes.

«You used to do that before too» you snigger and he squeezes your flesh once more.

«Only in bed» he laughs. You shake your head and pinch his right nipple lightly, watching as he keens and brings his hand to cover the injured part.

«Why?» he whines with his eyes closed. You lay down and kiss the tip of his nose.

«I get to do this too» you coo. He sighs deeply and glares at you, lips pouty.

«You used to do this before too» he murmurs. You smile at him.

«Not in bed? I should’ve and could’ve but I didn’t. I had to try»

«Fuck, you’re so annoying» he groans even though a big smile is already stretching on his lips. It’s beautiful how the change of your relationship didn’t change the way you act around each other, the same old habits and teases.

«Should I kiss it for you?» you laugh. Jungkook peeks at you from his half lidded eyes.

«Do I get to kiss your ass when I’m outside of bed?»

Your laugh fills the room, the apples of your cheeks full. He pushes you onto him, his hand coming to your face, he kisses your lips, pecks your nose and your cheeks, your forehead too. Silence spread in the air as he pours his love onto you with caresses and little sighs, totally rapturous.

You kiss his neck, his clavicles, his shoulders and his pecs, lick on his nipple. Jungkook squirms under you and a second later you’re… kissing it. He laughs out loud, his giggles are high pitched and he scrunches his nose as he lets his head fall back on the pillow. So fucking cute, you think. You want to keep him in your pocket and never let go.

«Are we ready to go?» you giggle as he still laughs. Jungkook nods, eyes bright. His bangs are messy and you take some time to brush them with your fingers as his chuckles summer down.

«It’s gonna be messy again, come on» he whines.

«So impatient,» you sigh «let me make my baby pretty» you coo. Jungkook whines again.

«Please,» he strokes your back «wanna be inside you»

«Mmh, ‘kay baby» you hum against his lips. You nuzzle your nose into his neck, blow on it just to hear the sound of his humming when he shudders under you as you take a hold of the base of his cock. He’s so hard that you let out a dreamy sigh, totally in love with the feeling of him in your hand. Jungkook’s hips stutter up, his cheeks paint of red when his eyes meet you and you wonder if it’s just the warmth of the room or your effect on him.

Your core brushes against him and he releases a soft yearning hum. You sit up, breast on full sight and eyes on him as you push yourself onto him. It’s so fucking wet and tight and delicious that he doesn’t ever want to leave your pussy. Fuck, he’d spend every second of the day inside you if he could.

«So tight» he moans. You slowly fill yourself up with him, he grabs your breasts and squeezes them, fumbles your soft flesh as you start to move unrushed. You’re so beautiful on top of him, so pretty. All for him and him only.

«Talk to me» Jungkook wants to hear your words as you ride him. The position is totally new to the both of you but fuck, it feels perfect. He fills you up so good that your walls pulsate all around him, getting to see him under you with his big dark eyes on your face makes you want to spoil him in all the love he showered you with the last time and even more, you want him to feel totally engulfed by it, from how much you love him.

«Love it, I love your cock» you moan. You put your weight on your hands on the bed, leaning back a little as his cock hits the perfect spot inside you. Jungkook pinches your nipple, your breasts look so good that he wishes he could kiss your skin. He watches them bounce with every move, feels his cock throb and leak precum inside you. It’s so fucking wet, your juices mixed together and god, the sounds you make could make him crazy.

«How much?» he hisses. You bite your lips.

«So much baby» you whine. His hand reaches your clit, he rubs it gently with his thumb and looks at your face. His heart pounds wildly, you turn him on so much that he has to restrain himself every time. However, now he wants you close and even though he’s loving the way you’re taking him so good, your body is too far for him.

«Love» he calls out putting both of his hands on your hips and staring up at you. You look down at him, his skin is a bit sweaty and his lips red from all the kisses you shared. Jungkook sits up.

«Want you closer, please» he maffles.

«Let me open my legs so I can hold you»

You let his cock pull out, the loss of contact makes you grimace and Jungkook smiles endeared as he pinches your cheek. He opens his thighs, his cock stands proud against his abdomen, so pretty. He guides you onto him, your thighs over his and your pussy back on him. His hands grab the flesh of your ass, his face hides in the crook of your neck and he breathes in your scent as you take him back into your heaven. Like this, he thinks he could die happily. Fuck, so close and perfect. The contact of your skin makes him breathless, the feeling of you all over him, so tight that not a single inch isn’t against him. The way you hug his cock makes his head spin, how you grind your hips into him and dig your nails into his back. Your moans in his ears, he captures every single and makes sure that the next one comes out because you’re feeling even better. He rubs your clit, sucks your nipples, kisses your neck, keeps you close until your sweats mix and all he can do is breathe you in.

«You’re perfect» you whisper. His heart trembles, all the defences he had to put on for all these years without even realising are down on the floor, totally scattered in pieces. They burn into ashes, fire takes over them completely until there’s nothing left but haze, and then there’s you. You on top of him, you under him, you on his lips, you in his mind, just you. You’re everywhere, part of him.

«I was so stupid-» you hiss as he kisses your cheek «fuck, how could I not see it?»

His nose nuzzles into your cheek and he pecks your skin repeatedly, his thumb rubbing faster on your clit.

«Ssh, we’re- nngh fuck, we’re here now» he reassures.

«Never wanna leave you,» you mumble «never»

Jungkook feels like crying suddenly. There’s a knot in his throat that tastes like pain, like all the tears he shed and every night he spent thinking about you. All the worry that he felt when you weren’t with him, the feeling of loveliness without you by his side, the feeling of not being enough to be seen, to be considered as more. It all gets back to him and his eyes burn, his vision becomes foggy, his breath ragged for the pleasure of having you here.

«Baby,» he whines «feel like crying» his voice trembles.

You stop your movements, totally focus on him. Jungkook shakes his head though, pushes you onto him more to make you keep going.

«Just make love to me» he whispers.

«I still can’t- still can’t believe you’re mine»

«I’m yours» you don’t wait a second more to let it out. You watch him beam with his eyes glossy and can’t help but kiss him. You kiss all of his worries away, every single one. As you make love to him so sweetly, they all melt. He cries, salty tears mix with your kisses, your hands dry them and you kiss the path they walked on. You spoil him with your touch, your caresses, even your breath on his skin. Jungkook can’t even speak properly from the feeling in his chest.

«I love you, love»

«Fuck, oh god- call me that again» he moans. He lets his head fall back as you keep moving, the expanse of his neck displayed for you. You let your hand trace it and then do the same for his chest, rub his nipples and hear him moan.

«My love» you repeat, breath rough.

«Mine, you’re mine»

«Fuck yes,» he whimpers «yours baby»

You want to make him cum. You want to see him shake in pleasure and contract his abs, you want everything he can give and more. Your hand travels farther down, Jungkook squeezes your ass again as he feels your touch graze his skin until you get to his balls. They’re wet with your juices, so tight and full of cum for you. He moans loudly, his mouth attaches your neck as you caress them sweetly in your hand. Your touch is so gentle and his cock feels so fucking good, his body feels like levitating from how much you’re giving him. It’s too much to hold back.

«God, you’re- you’re going to make me-» he howls «cum» he shudders.

You kiss him deeply, your tongues in each others mouth and your eyes closed, foreheads touching and hearts glued to each other.

«Cum for me» you breathe on his lips.

«Cum inside me, show me how you cum for me, love»

His eyes open, eyebrows furrow as he moans. You kiss him more, spoil him totally. You whisper how much you love him, how good he feels inside you, how beautiful he is. Until it’s fucking unbearable, his cock twitches and all he can do is let go. Jungkook groans, digs his nose into your neck in such a desperate way that you feel your heart being wrapped tightly and squeezed almost to the point that you can’t breathe anymore, his whimpers come out muffled on your skin, his cum filling you up totally as you keep moving on top of him and in his hold. You cum with his moans in you ears as you milk him dry, the room spinning and your legs shaking. You collapse in his arms, feel him sob in your hold. Even when you don’t realise it you kiss his hair, stroke his back as your body feels light and wobbly, totally lost in its high. You cup his cheeks and peck his lips, the mole right under, the one on his nose, his forehead. Jungkook never wants to let go.

«Cuddles» he murmurs on your neck right after, hiding from the world. You nod lazily, his cock still inside you.

It’s weird, the roads that love takes and the path it walks onto. It’s odd, how it can blossom without asking for permission, how it grows and spreads, takes over everything it finds on its way. It’s beautiful, how Jungkook clings onto you like you’re love itself and you do the same for him, roots intertwined and shared soil in the same pot, one soul fixed together with pieces of each other, like it’s always been. Since you were sixteen and he was nineteen, for all these years. And for many more to come

Read more about Closer here: Closer: Too Close (Teaser)

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Taglist: @p-i-e-d-p-i-p-e-r, @kaitlynlovesbm, @bytheinaya, @jub-jub, @taolucha, @minayas1998, @seoulrenebae-blog, @ppeachyttae, @gluk97, @jk97bam, @diorh0seokie, @gwsjungkookie, @moonlikemeh, @skzthinker, @eyssdumpie, @sleepy-sae, @jjkw-7, @singularityjes, @vvicaddiction, @kimchijeonjk @jungkookieeee97 @jimingirl95

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hotfuss · 5 months ago

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these will be on my future website homepage... the tk masterpost idea started in late august/early september???

#the killers #this masterpost keeps being delayed by me buying more and more magazines that have to be shipped to me and then scanned and edited #and i'm also working with several people helping me translating into english many of them #if you know polish/japanese/spanish (there's a ton of spanish ones) hit me up lol #p #the banana meme will be the header of the masterpost. jk... unless?#i know have a spreadsheet to keep track of what i'm buying/spending btw... and it's a lot

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dodgiestdogintheland · 1 month ago

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₊˚ ※ welcome ※ ˚₊

( second account! first is @cherriblossomm )

last updated 26/05/25

masterlist

disclaimer : i do not condone jk rowlings disgusting actions nor support them. She is a pig.

#dodgiestdogintheland #masterpost #marauders #maraders era #harry potter #dead gay wizards #harry potter fandom #i hate jk rowling #trans rights #lgbt pride

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multidol-masterlist · 5 months ago

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→ En una fiesta, boliche, etc. huelen tu sangre y apenas pueden resistirse. [vampiro]

MIN YOONGI [SUGA]

→ Caprichos

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wannaghostbts · 2 months ago

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This love! Right now... is all we got! All we need!!!~

Swinging By a Fine Line || j.jk | masterpost

Spider-Man’s role was easy: save everyone, fight the criminals, don’t drop out of school, don’t expose his identity, and make time for his girlfriend. What was so difficult?

This is a collection of stories that involve the same characters/environment. You can read them as stand-alone or all together. However, I recommend reading them in the order they appear. I hope you all enjoy the ride… or the swing *wink*! Thank you for reading (even if it’s just one part ^-^).

🕸️ Pairing: spiderman!Jungkook x girlfriend!Reader(f) [note: reader is short and has medium-long hair; she/her pronouns]

🕸️ Last updated: November 27, 2023 (ongoing)

🕸️ Credits: All banners and story dividers are made by me, unless stated otherwise. Please ask to use.

🕸️ DISCLAIMER: This is all fictional. Characters do NOT reflect their real-life personalities, actions, beliefs, behaviors, etc. Character’s actions are for the plot. I truly love all seven. If I write a member in a “negative light” it’s NOT because I don’t like them. Again, it’s solely for the plot. Please keep this in mind.

more about sbafl characters | bts masterlist

✨ swinging through the city with a little funk and s(e)oul✨

Feel free to visit my SBaFL survey about future content for this mini-universe. Answers are 100% anonymous and you are not required to answer all the questions. I will be honest and say it’s a little lengthy, but the questions are quick and easy to answer. I’d appreciate it bunches!

List order: Oldest -> Newest

🕷️ Tangled Thoughts (ac / ag) | 10.5k ↳ It wasn’t easy to leave your boyfriend of two years, but the constant lies made you question your relationship. You tried to move on, but you were somehow constantly tangled in his web. After being captured by an unknown, yet familiar, enemy, Jungkook wondered if he was doing the right thing by keeping his secret identity from you. Was it too late to come clean?

Keep reading

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jkwrites-m · 8 days ago

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Daddy Kookie (1)

Pairing: idol!Jungkook x female reader

Genre: childhood lovers to exes to lovers, parents au, idol au, smut, angst, fluff

Word Count: 8.9k

Summary: After Jungkook dropped all contact, Y/N was left broken - and pregnant. Seven years later, fate brings them back together.

Warnings: MDNI, Explicit, 18+, smut, angst, abandonment, ghosting, young (teenage) pregnancy, mention of parental death, mention of absent parent, brief homelessness, shelters, unintentional parental neglect, resentment, anger, fighting, arguments, jk is an ass, depression, betrayal, heartbreak, cursing, struggle,, explicit: PRAISING, kissing, missionary, oral (f. & m. receiving), breastplay, unprotected sex

Note: remember! bold is jk’s pov - regular text is y/n’s

A/N: happy father’s day! here’s part 1 of Daddy Kookie! i love this fic and hopefully you do too! part 1 was originally 15k but apparantly i hit a limit 🙄 enjoy! 🫶

MASTERPOST ♡ MASTERLIST

♡ next

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The summer air was thick, like it always was in late July. Sticky and slow, like time itself didn’t want to move. I sat on the old swing at the edge of the neighborhood park, the rusting chains and wood chips always got stuck in my sandals. My fingers twisted the hem of my dress, over and over, and I tried not to check my phone again.

But I did.

He was late.

Again.

Kookie: omw. don’t cry just yet lol

Y/N: shut up

Kookie: make me 😏

I rolled my eyes and bit back a smile, but my chest ached anyway.

This was the last night.

The last night before everything changed.

I heard his footsteps before I saw him. His sneakers slapping pavement, short breaths from running too hard. When I looked up, there he was. Jeon Jungkook, all sweat-damp hair and crooked grin, black T-shirt clinging to his chest, backpack slung carelessly over one shoulder.

“Y/N!”

“You’re late,” I called out.

“I’m never late,” he panted, bending slightly as he reached me. “The world just hasn’t caught up with me yet.”

“You mean you stopped for bubble tea.”

He held out the cup proudly. “Mango with weird tapioca things. Just how you like it. Don’t say I don’t love you.”

God.

Love.

That word hit differently when you knew it might be the last time you’d hear it.

“I don’t need bubble tea to know that,” I murmured, fingers brushing his as I took it.

He smiled that soft, boyish smile- the one that had ruined me since I was thirteen.

“Come on. Let’s walk.”

═══════

We walked past all our usual places. The school where we shared our first kiss behind the gym building, the corner store that stayed open late just for us, the alley where he told me he wanted to be more than just another small-town kid.

The whole world felt like it was holding its breath.

“You packed everything?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He didn’t look at me. “Manager-hyung’s picking me up at 7 tomorrow.”

Tomorrow.

“I still can’t believe it,” I whispered.

He glanced at me. “I know.”

“You’re really leaving.”

“I am.”

My throat burned. “What if… what if we don’t make it?”

His steps faltered, just for a second. “What?”

“What if Seoul changes you?” I stopped walking. “What if you forget about me?”

He turned to face me, forehead creasing. “Y/N…”

I hated how my voice trembled. “It happens, Jungkook. People grow apart. You’re gonna be around beautiful idols and trainees and fans, and I’ll just be here.”

“You won’t be just anything,” he said, stepping closer. “You’re everything to me.”

I wanted so badly to believe that.

“But what if-”

“I won’t forget you,” he cut in. “I couldn’t.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I’m promising it anyway.”

His arms wrapped around me. He always smelled like detergent and skin and something warm, something that felt like home. I buried my face in his chest, trying to freeze time. I didn’t want the night to end. I didn’t want this part of my life to end.

“I’m scared,” I admitted into his shirt.

“I’m not.”

“Why?”

He pulled back just enough to look at me. “Because you’re mine. And no matter where I go, you’re still gonna be mine. Okay?”

I nodded, even though I didn’t really believe it.

“Come with me,” he said. “Someday. I’ll bring you out. You’ll see. We’ll be together again.”

I looked up at him. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

We didn’t go home after that.

Instead, he led me across town, through the short forest trail that led to the old abandoned greenhouse- the place we used to run to when we skipped class or fought with our parents or just wanted to disappear for a while. The glass was broken in places, the air smelled like earth, and the moonlight poured in through the jagged skylight above us.

He laid down the blanket. I took off my shoes. We said everything with our eyes before our mouths could catch up.

It happened slowly.

His hands on my skin like he was learning me all over again. My lips on his jaw, his throat, the space between his ribs where he always twitched when I kissed him. We undressed like we were unraveling something sacred. We moved like we had forever, even though we both knew better.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against my collarbone. “You don’t even know.”

I tried to memorize the weight of his words. The way he said my name, like it was his favorite song. I kissed him like he was the only boy I’d ever love.

Without breaking our embrace, I shifted, my hands moving to the waistband of his jeans. His breath hitched as I undid the button, my fingers brushing against the warm skin of his lower abdomen.

The "Y/N," he groaned, his voice a mix of pleasure and surrender. I looked up at him, my eyes sparkling with mischief, and he chuckled softly, his hands tangling in my hair.

"You’re going to be the death of me," he teased, but there was no real complaint in his tone.

I didn’t respond, instead sliding down his body, my lips trailing kisses along the way. His chest, his stomach, the trail of hair that led downward- I savored every inch of him, my touch deliberate and worshipful.

When I reached the hem of his boxers, I paused, looking up at him through my lashes. His eyes were dark with desire, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

"You look so good," I murmured, my fingers hooking into the elastic band.

He nodded, his throat working as he swallowed hard. I pulled them down slowly, revealing his thick, hard length. My mouth watered at the sight, and I leaned in, my tongue flicking over the tip.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned, his hands gripping the blanket tightly.

I smiled against his skin, my lips wrapping around him, my tongue swirling and teasing. He tasted like salt and desire, and I moaned softly, the sound vibrating against him. His hands moved to my hair, guiding me gently, his praise washing over me like a wave.

"You’re incredible," he whispered, his voice thick with need. "So fucking beautiful."

I hummed in response, my mouth moving slower, deeper, my hands cradling his balls. His hips twitched, and he let out a sharp breath, his body tensing.

"Baby, I- I don’t want to come yet," he managed, his voice strained. I pulled back slightly, my lips brushing against his sensitive skin.

With a gentle push, he flipped me onto my back, his eyes never leaving mine. His hands moved to my waist, sliding up to cup my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my nipples. I arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping my lips.

"You’re so perfect," he murmured, his lips trailing down my neck, my collarbone, his kisses leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

His hands moved lower, his fingers traced the lace of my panties, his touch feather-light, before slipping beneath the fabric. I gasped as he found my core, already wet and throbbing with need.

"You’re so ready for me," he whispered, his breath hot against my ear.

His fingers dipped inside me, slow and deliberate, his thumb pressing against my clit. I moaned, my hips bucking against his hand, my body already on the edge.

"Jungkook, please," I begged, my voice desperate.

He chuckled softly, his lips moving lower, kissing down my stomach, his beard scratching my skin in the most delightful way.

"Impatient, aren’t we?" he teased, his breath ghosting over my sensitive flesh.

Before I could respond, his mouth was on me, his tongue pressing into my cunt, his fingers still moving inside me. I cried out, my hands tangling in his hair, my body arching off the blanket. He ate me out with a slow, deliberate rhythm, his tongue firm and insistent, his mouth devouring me. My breath came in short gasps, my body tightening as pleasure coiled low in my belly.

"Jungkook, I’m close," I panted, my voice shaky.

"Come for me, baby," he urged, his voice muffled against my skin. "Let me feel you fall apart."

His words sent me over the edge. My body shook as my orgasm ripped through me, my cries echoing in the greenhouse. He drank me in, his mouth relentless, his fingers still moving, milking every last drop of pleasure from me. When I finally came down, I was trembling, my body boneless and sated.

He looked up at me, his eyes dark with love and desire, his lips swollen from his efforts.

"You’re so fucking beautiful when you come," he murmured, climbing up to hover over me.

His eyes held mine, his expression intense, as he positioned himself at my entrance.

"I love you, Y/N," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "So much."

I reached up, cupping his face, my thumb brushing over his cheek. "I love you too," I replied, my voice soft but steady.

With a slow, deliberate thrust, he slid inside me, filling me completely. I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders, my body welcoming him like a missing piece. He moved with a rhythm that was both tender and urgent, his hips rocking into mine, his breath coming in short gasps.

"You feel so good," he groaned, his forehead pressing against mine. "So fucking perfect."

I wrapped my legs around his waist, my heels digging into his back, urging him deeper. His hands moved to my hips, guiding our movements, his thrusts becoming more insistent. The blanket rustled beneath us, the only sound in the greenhouse aside from our ragged breaths and soft moans.

"Jungkook," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I’m close again."

"Me too," he admitted, his voice strained. "But I want to last, want to feel you come apart again."

His words sent a fresh wave of desire through me. I tightened around him, my body clenching, and he groaned, his pace quickening.

"Fuck, baby, you’re going to make me lose it," he warned, his voice a rough whisper.

"Then lose it with me," I urged, my hands gripping his shoulders. "Together."

His thrusts became frantic, his body pouring into mine, his breath coming in sharp gasps. I met him with equal urgency, my hips rising to meet his, our bodies moving in perfect sync. The world narrowed to just the two of us, our hearts pounding, our breaths mingling, our bodies intertwined.

"Y/N," he groaned, his voice breaking. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

His words were my undoing. My body shattered around him, my orgasm crashing over me like a wave, my cries filling the greenhouse. He followed soon after, his hips stuttering, his body tensing as he came, his seed spilling deep inside me.

"Baby," he whispered, his voice hoarse, his forehead pressing against mine. "I love you."

Afterwards, we just lay there, tangled together, breathing like we were still trying to catch up with what we’d done. I rested my hand over his heart and closed my eyes.

“I want this to last,” I whispered.

“It will.”

“You can’t promise that either.”

“I know,” he said softly. “But I’ll try.”

═══════

The sun came up too soon.

And the goodbye was worse than anything I imagined.

We stood at the train station platform, my fingers gripping his tightly like maybe I could anchor him here if I just held on hard enough.

His manager honked from the van. He glanced back, and I knew this was it.

“I’ll text you tonight,” he said. “And every night after that. Until you’re with me again.”

“Okay.”

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you too.”

The kiss was desperate. Rough. Shaky. Everything we didn’t say poured into it.

Then he was walking away.

And I was standing alone with warm tears streaking down my cheeks, mango bubble tea now melting in my hand, watching the boy I’d loved since middle school disappear into a dream that didn’t have room for me.

═══════

The first few days weren’t so bad.

He texted me every night, just like he promised.

Kookie: made it safe. dorm is small but nice. i miss you already. ❤️

Kookie: long practice today. i thought about you the whole time.❤️

Kookie: you’d laugh at how sore my legs are rn lol.

I’d fall asleep with my phone pressed to my chest, rereading his words until my eyes burned. I’d replay our last night together on a loop- his breath, his voice, his promises. I believed them. I really did.

But by the third week… something changed.

The texts started coming later. Sometimes not at all. I’d wake up to a half-hearted reply.

Kookie: sorry long day love you

No punctuation. No emojis. No “good night” kisses made of letters.

The first time I called him, it rang until voicemail. I remember pacing my bedroom, eyes fixed on the screen like maybe I could will it to light up with his face. Maybe I could make his voice come back through sheer force of want.

It didn’t.

I left a message.

Then another one.

And another.

By the fifth one, I just hung up without saying anything. My voice felt stupid anyway. Useless.

“I’m just tired,” he told me when I finally got a hold of him. “Training’s intense, no breaks, you know how it is.”

I nodded like I understood, but I didn’t. How could I?

“You still think about me?” I whispered.

“Of course,” he said, but his voice didn’t smile like it used to. “I just… I gotta focus right now. It’s only temporary, okay?”

Temporary.

That word haunted me.

═══════

Two months passed, and I could feel him slipping further and further away, like trying to hold onto water with my bare hands. Every time I reached, there was less of him.

And then…

He disappeared completely.

No texts. No calls. His name grayed out on my phone like a ghost I wasn’t allowed to summon anymore. I tried finding him on Instagram. Nothing. I tried calling again- straight to voicemail. I stared at my screen, at the message that wouldn’t deliver.

Blocked.

He blocked me.

I don’t remember the exact moment I realized it. I just remember dropping my phone onto the carpet and staring at it like it had betrayed me. Like he had reached out of it and slammed a door in my face.

It didn’t feel real.

I sat there on the floor for what felt like hours. My chest was tight, my throat raw from screaming into the silence of my room. My mom had died the year before, and my dad was never in the picture. I didn’t have anyone to run to, no one to sit me down and tell me it would be okay. No one to curse him out for me. I was just a girl. Alone. Heartbroken.

I wanted to hate him.

I tried to.

But I loved him more than I hated what he was doing to me.

And then, as if the universe hadn’t already chewed me up enough…

I noticed I missed my period.

Twice.

At first, I blamed the stress. The sleepless nights. The crying. The nothingness.

But deep down, I knew.

I bought the test alone. Shoved it into the bottom of my bag like it was a weapon I wasn’t ready to use. I waited until I was home, shaking hands and knees pressed to the bathroom tiles.

I cried the second the result showed.

Two pink lines.

Positive.

Pregnant.

Eighteen years old.

No family.

No boyfriend.

No plan.

I curled up on the bathroom floor, my arms wrapped around my stomach, and I sobbed until I felt sick. I kept whispering his name, like maybe he’d walk through the door and tell me it was a mistake, that he was still here, that we were still “we.”

I didn’t even know who he was anymore.

Still… I tried.

I called him one last time. I held the phone so tight my fingers went numb. It rang once. Twice. Then-

This number is unavailable.

I texted him again, even though I knew it was useless.

Y/N: please. I need to talk to you. this is important.

Not delivered.

I switched apps. Tried emailing. Messaging. Searching his schedule online. I was grasping at digital smoke.

I had no one left.

Even his parents never liked me. They were polite to my face, but always made it clear Jungkook had bigger things ahead. “You’re young,” his mom had once told me with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Don’t hold him back.”

I never wanted to.

I just wanted to stand beside him while he flew.

Instead, I was falling, alone.

I packed what little I had. Took a bus to the airport. I didn’t even leave a note behind. There was nothing left to say. Nothing left to hold onto. Nobody to even tell. Just me… and this tiny, silent thing growing inside of me.

My baby.

Our baby.

I didn’t know their name yet. I didn’t know anything. But I made a promise that night, curled up on a stained mattress in a cheap airport hotel far from everything I’d ever known:

I would protect them.

I would never let them feel like I did.

Unwanted.

Forgotten.

Blocked.

═══════

I arrived in the new city with a duffel bag, two hundred and twelve dollars, and a baby growing inside of me, 6,000 miles away from home.

No plan. No apartment. No friends.

I stepped off the bus into the kind of summer heat that clung to your skin and made your clothes stick to you like regret. My phone was nearly dead, the screen cracked at the corner from how hard I’d thrown it across a motel wall two nights ago. I didn’t care. No one was calling anyway.

I sat on a bench at the edge of the terminal, one hand pressed over my stomach like I could already feel them there.

My baby.

They didn’t have a name yet, or a nursery, or a crib. They didn’t even have a dad anymore. All they had was me- and that was the scariest part of all. I didn’t feel like enough.

The first shelter I tried was full.

The second told me I needed a referral.

The third let me in. I shared a room with four other women, one of whom cried in her sleep and muttered something about her ex hurting her. I didn’t ask questions. I didn’t tell them anything about me either. It was safer that way.

At night, I curled up on the bottom bunk and held my belly, whispering things I wasn’t sure they could hear yet.

“It’s just us, okay? I’ll figure it out. I swear.”

I found a job cleaning tables at a twenty-four-hour diner two blocks from the shelter. The manager was a woman in her forties with no patience for excuses, but she handed me a uniform and didn’t ask about my belly.

“You’re not showing yet,” she said, like that was a blessing.

I kept my head down. Worked the night shift. Saved every penny.

Eventually, I found a room to rent. It was in a basement Concrete floors, mold in the corners, no real windows. The shower only had cold water and the radiator made a noise like it was coughing up ghosts.

But it was mine.

I taped a picture of the city skyline to the wall and called it home.

I went to free clinics. I got checkups. I downloaded baby apps that told me how big she was each week. “This week, your baby is the size of a lemon.” I started drinking more water. I learned how to cook cheap meals with frozen vegetables and rice. I worked two jobs. I stopped checking social media. Stopped googling his name. Stopped looking for his face in crowds.

I stopped crying. Mostly.

There were still nights I’d wake up gasping, hand pressed to the place where he used to be. Still dreams where I heard his voice calling my name, the way he used to when he was late and running through the park.

But I didn’t answer those dreams anymore.

I just turned over and held my stomach tighter.

Months passed like smoke. Time blurred. The city didn’t care who I was. And maybe that was good. I could be anyone here. I could rewrite my life.

By the time I was seven months pregnant, I found a tiny apartment above a corner bakery. The floor creaked with every step. The walls were too thin. But the landlady was kind and let me paint the spare room a soft pastel yellow.

“This for a little one?” she asked one day.

I hesitated, then nodded.

“She’s lucky to have you,” she said.

No one had ever said that to me before.

I cried after she left.

═══════

Eun Ae.

That was the name that came to me one morning, soft and sudden like sunlight through a dusty window. It means grace with love.

She would be both.

The last month of pregnancy was the hardest. I didn’t have anyone to hold my hand. No baby shower. No prenatal classes. Just me, standing in line at a dollar store, buying diapers and bottles and a secondhand crib I found online.

I gave birth alone.

The nurse held my hand. She told me I was strong. That I was doing great. That my daughter was beautiful.

And she was.

God, she was.

Tiny, red-faced, wailing like she’d been waiting her whole life to meet me. When they laid her on my chest, I couldn’t stop crying. I whispered her name over and over, like maybe that would make it real.

“Eun Ae,” I said. “My Eun Ae.”

She looked nothing like me.

She had his eyes. His mouth. His hair.

She looked like every part of me that still wanted to believe in love and every part of me that remembered how much it hurt.

I pressed a kiss to her forehead and made another promise.

“You’ll never have to beg anyone to stay.”

═══════

The first night home with Eun Ae, I didn’t sleep at all.

She screamed the way newborns do- without rhythm, without reason, as if her tiny lungs couldn’t believe they were real. I sat in the corner of the room on a second-hand rocking chair, blinking through exhaustion and cradling her in my arms. My entire body ached. My stitches throbbed. My back felt broken.

But I rocked her anyway.

Back and forth. Back and forth. Over and over, whispering songs I only half-remembered from childhood. She didn’t care. She just needed a heartbeat.

I gave her mine.

The first few weeks were chaos.

Feeding every two hours. Diapers like clockwork. Sleepless nights. Leaking milk. Guilt every time I thought I wasn’t doing enough. Or worse- when I wondered if I’d made a mistake.

But then she’d curl her hand around my finger.

Or smile in her sleep.

And I’d remember that none of this was her fault.

I called her “my tiny storm.” Because that’s what she was: chaotic and wild, but somehow still beautiful.

═══════

I returned to work when she was six weeks old. The bakery downstairs hired me as a morning assistant. I wore Eun Ae in a wrap across my chest while I sliced bagels and filled coffee orders. No one complained. Most people tipped me extra.

“She must look just like her daddy,” one customer said one morning.

I froze.

Smiled too hard.

Changed the subject.

The truth was, I never said his name out loud anymore.

Not even to Eun Ae.

He had vanished so thoroughly that even the word “Jungkook” felt like a spell I couldn’t afford to speak.

But he was there- in her face, her laugh, her temper. She had his eyes. Big and dark and full of questions she couldn’t ask yet. She furrowed her brow like him. Pouted like him. And when she cried, she had this broken, breathy hiccup at the end, just like the way his voice cracked when he used to tell me goodbye.

She was her father’s daughter.

Even if he’d never meet her.

═══════

By the time she turned one, we’d found a rhythm.

I was back in school part-time. Community college courses at night while she slept in a donated crib beside my desk. I studied until my eyes burned, filling notebooks with marketing notes, dreaming of someday doing more than just surviving.

I wanted to build something for her.

She deserved that.

Every birthday, I bought a cupcake and lit one candle, even when she couldn’t understand it. I sang softly and held her hand and whispered promises into the night.

I kept a photo of him in my drawer.

The last one we ever took together. He was in his hoodie, arms around me, and I looked so… happy. I barely recognized myself.

I never showed it to her.

But I couldn’t throw it away either.

Sometimes I wondered if he knew.

If he felt it.

If, somewhere on some stage with flashing lights and screaming fans, his chest ever ached the way mine did.

I didn’t hate him anymore.

I just couldn’t afford to miss him.

Six years passed.

Eun Ae was smart. So smart. She talked early, walked early, and made up songs about things like cereal and socks and the moon. She loved animals, especially tigers. She called me “Mama” with this bright, sing-song voice that made strangers smile in grocery store aisles.

And still, no one knew about him.

I kept her away from the internet. I didn’t play their music. I never watched interviews or read the headlines.

It was better that way.

Cleaner.

═══════

Until one day, while organizing an event at the university concert hall where I worked as the assistant event coordinator, my supervisor slid a folder across the desk.

“Biggest show we’ve ever booked,” she said. “This one’s yours to coordinate.”

I opened the file.

And my entire body went still.

BTS. Three nights. Sold out.

I stared at the name in big, bold letters.

And below it, the list of members.

Jeon Jungkook.

The air rushed out of my lungs.

My supervisor didn’t notice. She was already rattling off logistics and budget numbers.

“Great exposure for us,” she said. “They’ll be here for four days total- day one for setup and press, then two shows. You’ll be their point of contact. Got it?”

I nodded, because what else could I do?

“Yes,” I said.

But inside, I was unraveling.

Seven years.

It had been seven years since he looked at me and said I was his forever.

Now he was coming back.

And he had no idea that his forever was already here.

Alive.

Walking.

Talking.

Waiting.

═══════

The day they arrived, I wore my best poker face.

I dressed in all black clean, simple, professional. My badge clipped to my belt. Hair up. Lips-red, pressed into a neutral line. I stood at the edge of the venue loading dock with my clipboard, reading the itinerary like it could anchor me.

It didn’t.

My heart was a riot in my chest.

I kept telling myself I could do this. That seven years was long enough to kill any feelings I once had. That I was over it. Over him.

But then the black vans pulled in, and I felt every nerve ending ignite.

I kept my eyes fixed on the roster list in my hand as the van doors slid open.

BTS spilled out like lightning in motion- laughing, stretching, waving at the crew. They looked like the versions of themselves I had seen in posters and screens from far away but never allowed myself to truly absorb.

Namjoon stepped out first, tall and calm. Then Jimin, soft smile already charming the camera crew nearby. Taehyung followed with a bored yawn and sunglasses perched low on his nose.

And then-

Jungkook.

He jumped down from the last van like it was nothing. Hoodie pulled over his head. Headphones around his neck. Black jeans, chunky boots, silver rings on his fingers. He looked older now. Sharper. His hair was longer, his jaw more defined, his tattoos visible beneath his sleeves.

But it was still him.

Still the boy who once whispered that I was his forever.

Still the boy who disappeared.

His eyes scanned the lot casually- and then locked on mine.

Time stopped.

His whole body froze.

For a moment, the chaos around us blurred. Managers shouting, equipment wheeling past, cables being dragged across the ground. I couldn’t hear anything. Just the thump of my heart. The blood in my ears.

And those damn eyes.

He took a hesitant step forward.

“Y/N…?”

His voice hit me like a sucker punch to the stomach.

I turned away before he could say anything else.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” one of the coordinators called. “Can you walk the manager through the setup list?”

“Yes,” I said, my voice too steady. “Right away.”

I didn’t look at him again.

I didn’t acknowledge the way the air had shifted around me. I didn’t let my expression crack, even as I felt his gaze burning into the back of my head like a secret trying to claw its way out.

I shook hands with BTS’s manager. Bowed politely to each member.

Taehyung smiled at me. “You’re the event coordinator?”

“Yes,” I said. “I’m managing your team’s tech logistics while you’re here.”

“Cool,” he said. “You look familiar.”

I forced a smile. “I get that sometimes.”

Jungkook hadn’t moved.

He just stared.

I could feel him behind me- silent, motionless, stunned.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” the manager said again, “can we review the dressing room assignments?”

“Of course,” I replied. “Right this way.”

As I walked toward the venue entrance, clipboard in hand, I could hear Jungkook’s footsteps start and stop behind me like he didn’t know what to do. Like the weight of the past was catching up to him too fast to carry.

I didn’t let him catch up.

I stayed with the manager. I kept my tone clipped. Professional. Distant.

He didn’t deserve anything else.

═══════

That night, I put Eun Ae to bed and sat on the couch in silence.

My hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

I stared at the TV without watching it. The screen glowed, casting soft shadows across the living room. I could still hear his voice. That tentative, stunned way he said my name.

Y/N.

I hadn’t heard him say it in seven years.

I hadn’t wanted to hear it ever again.

And yet…

I had.

I brought my knees up to my chest and rested my chin there. The silence of the apartment buzzed in my ears. My phone sat on the coffee table, screen dark.

He hadn’t reached out.

Not that I expected him to.

But he had seen me.

Really seen me.

And tomorrow, we’d be back in the same building again- for rehearsals, for the show, for more pretending.

I looked down the hall where my daughter slept soundly in her room. Her small night light flickered against the soft yellow walls. She didn’t know.

She didn’t know that her father had stood not twenty feet from her today.

She didn’t know that the boy who left me all those years ago… was back.

And I didn’t know what I was going to do about it.

═══════

I didn’t believe it was her at first.

It was like seeing a ghost- only sharper. More real. Like memory had morphed into skin and bones right in front of me. She wasn’t a thought anymore. She was standing there, alive, breathing, clipboard in hand.

Y/N.

After all these years. After everything.

My heart stopped when our eyes met.

She didn’t smile.

She didn’t even flinch.

She looked right through me.

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. The rest of the world faded into static as she turned away and walked past me like I was no one.

I didn’t know what to do.

So I did nothing.

I stayed quiet through sound check. Missed two cues. Forgot lyrics I’ve known for years. My hands shook on the mic. Jimin kept shooting me glances. Namjoon gave me a look like, we’ll talk later.

I couldn’t focus.

Because there she was- just feet away, giving stage directions to the crew, typing something on her phone, hair tied up, face calm.

She was even more beautiful now.

Older. Stronger. Softer in the eyes but sharper in the jaw. The kind of beautiful that made you regret ever looking away.

After rehearsal, we went back to the hotel.

Dinner was quiet until Taehyung broke it.

“So…” he said, glancing at me. “You okay?”

I didn’t answer.

Jimin raised a brow. “You’ve been weird all day.”

“Like, weirder than usual,” Hoseok added.

Jin leaned in. “What happened at the venue?”

Namjoon sat back. “That woman- the coordinator. You knew her, didn’t you?”

I stared down at my plate. My appetite was gone.

“Her name’s Y/N,” I said softly.

Yoongi’s fork stopped halfway to his mouth.

“No fucking way,” he said.

They all froze.

Jimin’s jaw dropped. “That Y/N?”

“From Busan?” Jin added.

“The one from… before you left?” Taehyung asked carefully.

I nodded.

“Holy shit,” Hoseok breathed. “She’s here? She’s working the tour?”

“I didn’t know,” I said quickly. “I swear I didn’t know.”

“She looked… fine,” Namjoon said slowly. “Like, completely put together.”

“She’s not fine,” I murmured. “I can tell.”

Yoongi crossed his arms. “Well, what did you expect? You ghosted her, man.”

“I didn’t-”

“You blocked her,” he cut in. “You changed your number. You dropped off the face of the Earth to her.”

“I panicked!” I snapped. “I didn’t know what I was doing. Everything was moving too fast, the training, the company, the rules. They didn’t want me in a relationship, especially not one that serious. I didn’t know how to tell her. So I didn’t.”

“You emotionally cheated on her dude,” Taehyung said, not unkindly. “And then what? You blocked her?”

“I thought…” I exhaled. “I thought she’d be better off.”

“No one’s better off being abandoned,” Jimin said flatly.

I gritted my teeth. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“But you did,” Jin said.

I didn’t say anything.

There was nothing left to say.

Silence stretched across the table.

Then Namjoon asked quietly, “Do you still love her?”

The words caught me by surprise.

But the answer came easy.

“Yes.”

No hesitation.

Yes, I still loved her.

Even now.

Even after all this time.

Even after everything.

“She looked right through me,” I said, more to myself than to them. “Like I didn’t exist.”

“Maybe to her,” Yoongi said, “you don’t.”

Those words hit harder than I expected.

I left the table first.

Back in my room, I sat on the edge of the bed for what felt like hours.

I scrolled through old photos. Scrolled through pain. Tried to find her number in my blocked contacts. Unblocked it.

I stared at her name like it would bring her back.

Jungkook: Y/N. Can we talk? Please.

Sent.

Three seconds later:

Not delivered.

I tried again.

Same result.

Her number was gone.

Or changed.

Or… both.

I dropped my phone onto the nightstand and buried my face in my hands.

Seven years.

And I still loved her like I was eighteen and scared and stupid.

Now?

Now I was twenty-five.

Still scared.

Still stupid.

But I wasn’t running this time.

Tomorrow, I’d find her.

Tomorrow, I’d try again.

Because I had to.

Because maybe I couldn’t fix the past…

But I could fight for the future.

═══════

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of little feet sprinting down the hallway.

“Mamaaaaa!”

Before I could sit up, Eun Ae launched herself onto the bed like a missile. Her tiny body landed across my stomach with an “oomph,” and she laughed like she was the funniest person alive.

“You’re heavy,” I groaned.

“I’m growing,” she declared proudly, scooting up until her nose was pressed against mine. “You said if I eat all my strawberries I’ll grow big. I ate three yesterday.”

“Three strawberries, huh?” I mumbled, still half-asleep. “Better call the Olympics.”

She giggled again and flopped next to me, tangling her legs in the sheets.

I stared up at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath.

It was a new day.

The day after seeing him.

And somehow, the world hadn’t ended.

I glanced at the clock. 6:43 a.m.

Too early. Always too early.

But I was used to it. Motherhood didn’t care about sleep.

“What’s today?” Eun Ae asked, her voice soft now. “Is it a school day?”

“Nope,” I said. “School’s closed for the teacher training day, remember?”

Her eyes lit up. “So I get to go to work with you?”

I hesitated.

Technically, no. Technically, she wasn’t allowed backstage. Technically, I was supposed to find childcare.

But my sitter canceled last minute. And I didn’t have family to call. No backup plan.

And this morning wasn’t just a setup day for any show.

It was BTS’s first rehearsal.

Jungkook’s first rehearsal.

My stomach turned.

“Yeah,” I said, forcing a calm I didn’t feel. “You’re coming with me.”

“Yay! Can I wear the sparkly pants?”

“Maybe not sparkly, baby. Let’s go for comfy.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Boring.”

“Functional.”

“Boring,” she repeated dramatically.

We argued for five more minutes before I managed to get her into soft leggings and a hoodie. I packed her a lunch- pb&j, apple slices, string cheese, a juice box- and stuffed her favorite drawing notebook and markers into her backpack.

═══════

By the time we got to the venue, I had mentally rehearsed every scenario in which she might accidentally wander into rehearsal. And every possible excuse I could use to explain why she looked so much like one of the men on stage.

I didn’t let my brain go there.

Instead, I signed us in, clipped her a visitor badge, and made a little “kid corner” backstage with a blanket and her supplies.

“You stay right here,” I told her, crouching in front of her. “No running. No exploring. Okay?”

“Okay,” she said, but her smile was mischievous. “What if a famous person talks to me?”

“Then you smile and say hi. And you don’t tell them your life story, got it?”

She crossed her arms. “You never let me do anything fun.”

“You drew on the toaster last week.”

“I was decorating it!”

“Stay. Here. Please.”

“Fiiiiiine.”

I kissed her forehead and stood up just as the crew radio crackled to life.

“Band arriving in 10. Sound check team on deck.”

My chest squeezed.

It was happening again.

I checked the stage layout, ran over the day’s order, made sure tech had their mics and cue sheets ready. I moved like a machine.

Anything to avoid thinking.

But then I saw him.

Out of the corner of my eye.

He entered with the group, dressed in joggers and a white tee, hair tied back, a calm focus on his face. He looked… unshakable. Like he belonged here. Like he didn’t have seven years of silence hanging between us like an invisible wall.

Jimin saw me first and waved politely. Taehyung gave a half-bow. Namjoon offered a quick nod.

Jungkook… slowed.

But he didn’t say anything.

Not yet.

I stayed behind the crew as the members took the stage and warmed up.

I didn’t see Eun Ae sneak away until it was too late.

“Mama, look- !”

She ran directly onto the stage, arms wide, like it was the playground.

My heart dropped out of my chest.

“Eun Ae!”

Every member of BTS stopped.

Music cut. Mics echoed. Heads turned.

She stood center-stage, grinning, completely oblivious to the silence she’d caused.

Jungkook turned.

He looked at her.

Really looked.

And everything inside him changed.

I saw it happen in real-time.

His eyes went wide. His body locked up. His mouth parted, and then shut again. He stared like she was a ghost. A hallucination. Like his brain was trying to catch up with something his heart already knew.

Eun Ae spun in a circle and shouted, “Hi! I’m Eun Ae! This place is so BIG!”

Namjoon chuckled awkwardly. “Hello, Eun Ae.”

One of the techs looked at me like do you want us to stop her?

But I was frozen.

Because Jungkook hadn’t moved.

He just stared.

And I knew, without him saying a single word-

He recognized her.

He knew.

═══════

I managed to get her off the stage before the silence crushed us all.

Eun Ae didn’t understand, of course. She just laughed when I scooped her up into my arms and whispered too sharply into her ear.

“You can’t run out there like that, baby.”

“But I wanted to see!”

“You can’t.”

Her little face folded into confusion. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” I whispered, my voice catching. “No, sweet girl. You’re fine. It’s me. I just- I wasn’t ready.”

I carried her backstage as quickly as I could, ignoring the weight of all their eyes.

Especially his.

I dropped her back onto her blanket, handed her a snack, and told one of the interns to keep an eye on her while I stepped outside for “fresh air.”

It was a lie.

I just needed to breathe.

The service hallway was dim and cold and smelled like industrial cleaner. My footsteps echoed along the concrete as I pressed a hand to my chest and leaned against the wall, squeezing my eyes shut.

I couldn’t cry.

Not here.

Not when he might-

“Y/N.”

His voice hit me like a gust of wind, and I flinched.

I turned slowly.

And there he was.

Jungkook stood at the other end of the corridor like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to come closer. His hands were at his sides, fingers twitching. His brows were drawn, his mouth parted, but no words came out fast enough.

“You’re really here,” he said finally, almost in disbelief. “It’s you.”

I didn’t move.

He stepped closer.

I took a step back.

He stopped.

“Don’t,” I said. “Not here. I’m working.”

“I-” He swallowed. “I didn’t know you were in this city. I didn’t know you worked here. I didn’t know-”

“Yeah, Jungkook,” I snapped, my voice too loud, too raw. “You don’t know anything.”

He winced like I’d slapped him.

“I deserve that,” he whispered.

“You deserve a hell of a lot more than that.”

Silence swelled between us.

He looked like he wanted to run and stay and scream and cry all at once. His jaw clenched. His eyes darted back toward the door like he half-expected someone to interrupt this moment- or save him from it.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

I laughed.

It was sharp and bitter and ugly. “You blocked me.”

“I know.”

“I tried to call you. I begged you to talk to me.”

“I know.”

“You disappeared. You walked away like I didn’t matter.”

He didn’t argue.

Didn’t defend himself.

He just stood there, mouth trembling, eyes wet.

“I was scared,” he said finally. “I didn’t know how to handle any of it. I was young and selfish and… stupid.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

“I know.”

I stared at him for a long moment.

There was a time when I would’ve given anything just to hear his voice again. Now I just wanted him gone. I didn’t want to unravel here, in this hallway, in this job I fought to earn, while my daughter waited in the next room with her coloring book and juice box.

“I can’t do this right now,” I said, my voice low.

“Y/N-”

“I’m at work.”

He took a shaky breath. “Can we talk later? Please. Just… later. Whenever you’re ready.”

I didn’t say yes.

I didn’t say no.

I just stared.

And then I turned and walked away.

Because I knew if I stayed, if I looked at him one second longer, I’d break in a way I couldn’t afford to.

Not here.

Not now.

Not with her so close.

═══════

I didn’t sleep that night.

I laid there with my eyes open, staring at the ceiling while the air conditioner hummed like static in the corner. I could still feel his voice on my skin. Still see his face when he realized.

When he knew.

I hated that he looked heartbroken.

Like he had the right.

He didn’t get to be the victim in this story.

Morning came fast.

I got Eun Ae dressed in her favorite hoodie, tied her hair back with a rainbow scrunchie, packed her snacks, and kissed her forehead before handing her off to my night sitter. She clung to me a little longer than usual, her tiny hands fisting the fabric of my sleeve.

“Are you okay, Mama?”

“Of course,” I lied with a smile. “I’m just tired.”

She looked like she didn’t believe me, but she nodded anyway.

═══════

At the venue, I kept my head down and my steps quick. I met with the stage managers. Double-checked the lighting schedule. Confirmed the camera angles. BTS was set to perform the first of three sold-out shows tonight, and it had to be flawless.

I didn’t have time for ghosts.

But of course, he found me again.

After the final stage tech test, I was checking headset frequencies backstage when he walked in from the far corridor. Alone this time. Hoodie up. Head down.

I saw him before he saw me.

I slipped behind a crew cart and took the long way around the scaffolding, heart pounding in my chest like I was seventeen again.

I wasn’t ready.

Not for another talk.

Not for his eyes.

Not for the way my body still reacted to his with heat and tension and this deep ache of things never healed.

The first fans started trickling in. The venue buzzed with electricity. Excitement in the air like a current. BTS prepped for the show. Hair and makeup. Wardrobe. Rehearsal cues.

And I stayed invisible.

Until I couldn’t.

Just before the house lights dimmed, I ran into Jimin.

He was alone, drinking water near the monitor station. When he spotted me, he gave a small, tentative smile.

“Hey,” he said.

I nodded politely. “Hi.”

He looked like he wanted to say more.

“He’s a mess,” he said instead.

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Jungkook,” he clarified. “He hasn’t slept. Barely talked. He’s… not okay.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that.

Was I supposed to care?

Jimin’s eyes softened. “He knows he fucked up. He’s never forgiven himself.”

“That makes two of us,” I said quietly.

He hesitated. “He didn’t even stay with that girl. The one he- after you. It didn’t even last a month. He couldn’t look at her without thinking about what he lost.”

I closed my eyes. “It doesn’t change what he did.”

“I know,” Jimin said gently. “But maybe it explains it.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but the lights cut out before I could.

Cue time.

Showtime.

BTS took the stage and the world screamed.

The entire arena lit up like a galaxy.

And for two hours, I focused only on the logistics. The transitions. The audience flow. The safety of the crew. I spoke into the headset, gave instructions, moved like a storm on autopilot.

But I still saw him.

On stage.

Sweating, shining, dancing, singing.

He looked like he belonged up there.

Like he was born for this.

Like everything he left me for had bloomed exactly the way he dreamed.

But then his eyes found me in the wings.

And they broke.

I looked away.

After the encore, while the cheers still echoed, he stepped off stage and tried to approach.

I turned and walked in the other direction.

═══════

I didn’t plan to say yes.

When I walked into the venue the next morning, I had every intention of ignoring him again. Of slipping past with my badge and my fake smile and my shoulders squared like I couldn’t still feel him watching me.

But then he was there.

Waiting by the staff entrance with a hood over his head and both hands deep in his pockets like he didn’t know what to do with himself. He didn’t say anything. Just looked up when I passed.

And softly, like it wasn’t a plea:

“Please. Just one hour.”

I kept walking.

But by the time I reached the control booth, I’d already decided.

An hour.

That’s all he was getting.

I didn’t owe him more.

I texted my sitter and arranged a little extra time that morning. I found a café across the street from the venue. Quiet. Tucked between a record shop and a florist. The kind of place no one would think to look.

He was already there when I arrived.

Sitting in the corner booth, black hoodie pulled low, fingers tapping the edge of a coffee cup like he was trying not to shake.

I didn’t say hi.

Just sat down across from him and folded my arms.

We didn’t speak for a long time.

Finally, he looked up.

“Thanks for coming.”

I stared. “Start talking.”

He flinched like the words hit.

“I messed up,” he said. “That’s the bottom line. I fucking ruined everything.”

“You did.”

“I was scared,” he went on. “The company told me I couldn’t be in a relationship. I didn’t know how to balance you and the dream I was chasing and- ”

“Don’t,” I cut in. “Don’t make this about your dream.”

He swallowed hard. “I thought maybe if I let you go, you’d move on and be happy. I didn’t want to drag you into it- into this world, the chaos, the distance.”

“So instead you dragged me through abandonment.”

His throat worked. “I know.”

“And then you blocked me.”

“I know.”

“While I was trying to tell you I was pregnant.”

That landed like a punch.

He blinked. “What?”

“I called you. I texted. I tried everything. You’d already cut me out of your life. So I moved.”

“You… you were pregnant?”

“I am a mother.”

He looked like he couldn’t breathe.

“I have a daughter,” I said. “She’s six. She’s bright and smart and stubborn and beautiful. She likes animals and cereal and drawing on walls. She’s yours.”

He gripped the edge of the table like he needed something to keep from falling apart.

“She…” His voice broke. “She’s mine?”

“Biologically, yes.”

“And you didn’t tell me.”

“I tried. You made it impossible.”

His eyes filled with tears he tried to blink back.

“I missed everything,” he whispered.

“Yeah,” I said. “You did.”

I looked away. My throat burned. My chest was tight with everything I’d kept locked away for so long.

“I haven’t been with anyone,” I added. “Not once. I haven’t had time to fall in love. Or heal. I’ve been in school, working, raising her, paying bills. Alone. While you…” I gestured toward him. “Got to live the life you wanted.”

He closed his eyes. A tear slipped free.

“I never stopped loving you,” he said.

I didn’t respond.

“I think about you every single day.”

Still, I said nothing.

“I dream about you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

He looked up again, broken open. “I want to be in her life. I want to meet her. Be her dad.”

I paused.

“You don’t get to come in just because it’s convenient now,” I said. “You shattered me. You left a crater behind that I’m still crawling out of. And I won’t let you break her the way you broke me.”

That made him flinch harder than anything I’d said yet.

“I understand,” he said softly. “But please… just one chance. Let me meet her. Just once.”

I sighed.

The silence stretched again, taut and heavy.

“She has a playdate this afternoon,” I said. “But tomorrow morning? I’m free.”

His eyes lit up.

“I’ll bring her to the zoo,” I said. “You can meet her. As a family friend.”

“Thank you,” he whispered.

I stood up, ignoring the tremble in his voice.

“I’m not doing this for you, Jungkook. I’m doing it for her.”

Then I walked out before he could say anything else.

═══════

♡ next

MASTERPOST ♡ MASTERLIST

♡ requests are welcome ♡ taglist ♡

These characters are fictional and do not represent any real-life individuals. Their likeness is used solely for visual inspiration and does not reflect the actual person or their story.

═══════

Posted: 06/15/2025

#jkwrites m #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts #bts ff #bts ffs #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook idol au #daddy kookie m

1K notes · View notes

dailynnt · 1 month ago

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JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS | PART 2

Hi Army🫰🏻

It's me again with my list of my favorite JK works 💜

You should read and thank these wonderful authors for their work by liking, reposting and commenting 🥰

Thanks to all fanfic authors for sharing to us your creative, I know what a titanic job you do 🙇🏼

Most of these fanfics contain explicit scenes, so read at your own risk 😉

Part 1 of my fanfic recommendations 🫶🏻

✗ When the End Comes | Masterpost (jjk) by @oddinary4bts (breakup!au, slice of life!au, angst with a big A, smut, fluff)

✗ 𐙚 pink and pretty by @redcherrykook (sir!kink, spanking, dom&sub dynamics, oral (m), degredation, praise, doggy, creampie, slight size kink)

✗ 𐙚 delicate seashell by @redcherrykook (beachy hotel sex, whiny koo, penetration, sweet koo)

✗ 𐙚 brothers best friend by @redcherrykook (teasing, humping, tit play, f2l, fluff)

✗ KKANGPAE by @jungkoode (enemies to lovers, slow burn, gang au, angst with smut, fuck buddies, forbidden love, secret relationship)

✗ new territory. (jjk) by @cigarettesuga (smut, fluff, experimental firsts, soft filth, boyfriend!jungkook supremacy)

✗ starstruck #1 #2 by @trivia-yandere ( yandere, oral sex, smut, unprotected sex, praising, dirty talk, rough sex, overstimulation, possessive behavior)

✗ Cruel Secrets - J.JK - ONE SHOT by @kookiesncreamri (yandere, smut, angst, fluff.... if u squint, forbidden relationship trope, twin au)

✗ Priorities - JJK #1, #2 by @kookiesncreamri (fwb, mutual pining..?, slightly toxic relationship, exclusive fwb, smut, smau)

✗ HOLD ON TO ME by @kooklovee (angst, fluff, smut, established relationship au, CeoHusband!Jk x Wife!Reader)

✗ RUINED RIGHT by @kooklovee (smut, established relationship au, bf!Jungkook x gf!Reader)

✗ MARRIED FOR 7 DAYS by @kooklovee (fluff, smut, established relationship au, bf!Jungkook x gf!Reader)

✗ The Ex Text by @shadowkoo (smut, pwp, ex with benefits, minor fluff & angst)

✗ The Oh! Chronicles (series) by @shadowkoo (smut, brother’s best friend, off limits younger sister, college au, pwp)

✗ Sexy Disasters With Feelings by @kooppss (smut, cursing, drinking, unhealthy immature behavior, male masturbation, mention of female masturbation, mention of sex)

✗ million dollar man. jjk by @joonjuul (richman!jk, softdom!jk, poor!reader, subby!reader, pwp, oral (m receiving), thigh riding, fingering (f receiving), pet names, praise)

✗ Jungkook as a munch. by @phantommoondoll (smut, oral, daddy kink)

✗ SHADOWS OF OBSESSION by @gukcnt (criminal au, dark romance, forbidden attraction, enemies to lovers, murderer!jungkook, stalker!jungkook, innocent shy!reader, virgin!reader, medical student!reader, violence, stalking and obsession, contrast of worlds, crime, thriller, smut, angst, fluff)

✗ Black Ribbon Bride ۶ৎ | jjk (m) by @youthguk (mafia au, dark romance, arranged marriage, angst , smut, forced marriage, power imbalance, slight graphic violence, death threats, mentions of murder, forced intimacy)

✗ down low — jeon jungkook by @writesvani (friends with benefits au, situationship au, porn with plot, smut, angst)

✗ What you need by @keen-li (best friends au, angst, fluff, smut, slow burn)

✗ i'm outside, let's talk. (m) by @rjkooks (porn with very little plot, exes to lovers)

✗ after last night (m) #1, #2 by @rjkooks (unrequited love, non-idol au, smut, angst)

✗ FRIENDS ⋆ JJK by @girlygguk (established relo, fluff, smut)

✗ BAD THINGS ⋆ JJK by @girlygguk (smut, angst, fluff, f2l, fwb au, university au)

✗ fifth wish by @jiminrings (angst, unrequited love, emotional constipation)

✗ satellite | jjk by @httpknjoon (fluff, slight angst, fwb)

✗ Never been a friend | jjk by @jkslipppiercing (smut, enemies to lovers, alcohol, swearing)

✗ boy in luv by @ggukiepie (college!au, bff!jk, athlete!jk, student council president oc, cheerleader!oc, angst, fluff, eventual smut, pining)

✗ so good by @ggukiepie (established relationship, smut, literally pwp, the plot is maybe two sentences long lmao, a little bit of fluff)

✗ at arms length by @tranquilreign (angst, ex best friends au! college au)

✗ STILL YOUR'S by @kooffeecup (angst, smut, fluff)

✗ PAST TENSE, PRESENT LOVE 𐚁̸ by @kooffeecup (angst, romance)

Give these fanfics and their authors a lot of love 💜

💋 Dailynn T

971 notes · View notes

taegularities · 15 days ago

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colour me in: photograph | jjk (m)

Summary: With both your and Jungkook's careers peaking, the future feels promising and bright. Yet, amidst the glowing hope, one single phone call dims the light in the rooms of your shared home.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; angst, fluff, smut ➳ warnings: work-related stuff, new gallery/art/fair stuff, stress and feeling overwhelmed, death of a pet, tears, sadness/grief, doubts, tender moments, talk of jk's future and his art, support, surprises, (talk of) a break up oop, mention of children (i guess that's a warning lol), explicit sexual content: let-out-some-steam-sex, car sex!! a cmi first!!, dom!jk, big dick!jk, he's actually insane, lots of fingering, bit of overstimulation, (multiple) intense orgasms, kissing, manhandling, smacks on pussy/ass, sum hard sex, they're half clothed, playing with his bawlls; the ending.. <3 ➳ word count: 19.4k ➳ a/n: happy bts month and 3rd anniversary to cmi! get ready, it's gonna hurt for a whiiile now :') i know it's been quite long, but i hope you guys are still around. so as always, come and talk to me about this 🤍 ➳ listen to: photograph by ed sheeran | full collaborative playlist 🤍

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs

“Jungkook?”

“Babe?”

“Jungkook,” you repeat solemnly, lifting yourself off the far end of the mattress. “I hate surprises.”

There’s light static in the foot previously tucked under your bottom, tingling when you limp to his distracted, pajama-clad self. He’s immersed in the sketchbook you gifted him for his birthday, embellishing yet another page but never showing you what you’ve been begging for.

Mid-stroke, he chuckles, side-eyeing you; you’re still sulking from the conversation before. “Nice try, munchkin. No lies in this household.” Because you love surprises and that butthead knows. “Now sit your ass back down. Wait a bit more. If you’re a good girl.”

You pout again. Leaning in, you press your fingers into where his dimples usually emerge, moving his face back and forth until he whines, and tell him, “You’re a mean man, you know?”

“Stop,” he protests, grabbing your hand when your fingers dig in and removes it from his slightly crimson cheeks. “Learned it from you, apparently.”

“Ah… how fucking dare.”

Your joke slips past him as he pats your thigh twice and places the sketchbook on your pillow. You move aside for him to jump off the bed; the day has passed languidly for most of its part, but Jungkook doesn’t know laziness when it comes to hunger.

It’s snack time anyway — a possibly unhealthy comfort after the diligent workout sessions he powered through this week. But they say couples who munch together stay together, and you’re all for increasing your odds.

“Okay, sushi or dumplings?” he asks, fetching the phone he left on the work desk earlier. “Or both?”

You’re more indecisive than him. Wrong person to ask. “Either is fine. Both reduce stress.”

“Why? Are you stressed?”

“I mean… it’s why people snack sometimes, no?”

“You didn’t deny it, though. What’s up?”

You emit a deep breath, combining anxiety about life and relief about being able to talk about it. As he orders whatever he’s craving, you tell him, “Work’s just been chaotic, which wouldn’t be news if I wasn’t the one responsible for fixing it all.”

You shake your head a little, click your tongue and then continue, “I mean, it’s not that anything needs to be fixed, but with the season changing, the collection does, too… and… of course we need to advertise every single sock and glove.”

There is no need to repeat the current situation to him; perhaps you just need to spell it out again, to torture yourself or maybe, to raise your own awareness of how important this thing is.

So of course he’s calm and reassuring when he says, “But you were so excited about it?”

“I still am. Just nervous as hell, too, because I’ve never taken the lead before, really.”

“No? You did do a hell of a job at Charmante, though.”

You smile weakly, hiding the little sigh and admit, “Yes, but those were never my projects alone. Back when I started here at Novaura and they were doing the autumn launch, I was still just learning and watching. It looked so difficult then, too.”

“Only because autumn to winter fashion is such a jump. Listen,” his eyes lift, the phone thrown back on the bed and a moment later, himself as well. His hand lands on yours, rubbing energetically. “It just means they trust you!”

“Yeahh,” you drag the word, and then nod, “yeah, no, sure. Like, so many people do that all over the world and they manage, so I should be fine.” Jungkook hums. “As long as the models don’t leave us hanging — one of them still hasn’t answered.”

You pause for dramatic effect, an expression of your gathered frustration and fear of failure. But when you look at him, eyes filled with support but a slight distraction in the far back, you digress, “But you have your own stress to deal with right now.”

His eyes flit to the ground and he presses his lips to a line as if to disagree, and then actually does, “I don’t know if I’d call it stress. Just nervous, like you. First big thing for me, too.”

So was the exhibition months ago, and he mastered it so easily. But there are a dozen reasons he’d rather forget about these long nights, no matter how victorious he came out of them.

Despite the exposure he received, he doesn’t talk about it, except once, shortly after you found each other again. Poured how it still sometimes hurt to think about the dread that so overshadowed his excitement, bringing to light every other insecurity he’s ever lived with, too.

But. A healthy number of amazing results followed all that anguish — like, the guy scouting him, or you coming to the exhibition after all.

Okay. Anyway. Your turn to offer some peaceful words before any of you can enable any approaching nightmares of everything that can go wrong.

“You know,” you start, “I could easily give you my very personal and totally unbiased opinion if you let me see.”

You lower your head to throw an ominous through-the-lashes glance, and you probably look like an idiot enough to make him laugh like this. But then, all earnestly, he explains, “No. If I’m able to land this job, I will show you something far bigger. And—”

He stares up to the ceiling, forming an imaginary rainbow with his hands, all theatrical. “And the stuff you want to actually see is part of what will be one day.”

“Dramatic poetry.”

He shrugs. “I might’ve flicked through your anthologies.” A similar pat as before follows on the back of your hand and he rushes to the table, returning with his turned on laptop. “But know what? I can show you a few of these at least.”

The display lights up bright once he’s typed in his password, directly offering a look at the folder containing the pictures he took on your vacation. Random ones, some of them already edited — he likes doing this.

There’s crystal clear water and the horizon behind it; or random alleys. Very artsy stuff, but carrying an obvious signature note. And the edits add to the specific tone that is so easily distinguished from what other people create.

“Does the guy want photographs, too?” you ask, scooching closer.

“Just for the portfolio. I don’t need to exhibit any just yet… maybe someday.”

As he opens a picture the screen froze on before he shut the laptop, you exclaim, “Oh, this was right after the slippery soccer game! When we were having dinner at this fancy hotel restaurant.”

“Right,” he zooms in, dragging the mouse across faces, “you didn’t like the dessert there.”

“But I liked the main course,” you tell him with a slight lift of your shoulder, watching until your face jumps into your eyes, “look at me here. I fucking hate you for catching this moment of all.”

Your expressions are contorted, left cheek filled with a bite of the tart. You aren’t focused on the camera, not posing or smiling like the rest is; entirely distracted by the attack on your tastebuds.

“Oh, I love myself for it,” Jungkook counters, zooming further into your knitted eyebrows. You hit his shoulder a little, and he fakes a devastated exclaim, “Owh. Bully.”

“I look like the grapes offended me and my ancestors.”

“Probably did.”

“Probably.”

You laugh, basking in the post-vacation glow, although missing the moments the pictures are refreshing in your mind. You take over the keyboard to move between them, dwelling on one or returning to another when you recall a story to it.

Jungkook, with the computer on his lap, leans back, listens to your tales and adds his own. Talking about the conversations held before, during and after all these many seconds were captured.

And at some point, as time passes and the delivery service rings the bell, you finally prepare to move from one activity to the next; Jungkook gets up to open the door.

But just before disappearing, uncaring of who awaits, he turns around again, one look thrown down to where you sit so calmly. Looking like the same girl chomping through her lunch in the empty skatepark, legs dangling underneath the summer sun as he teased her out of her mind next to her.

You have changed — but you haven’t. You look happier, at least.

If he could, he’d stare at the glow a little longer.

But instead, he remembers the food waiting outside and with it the certainly impatient supplier, and he leans into you slowly. Digs two fingers into your cheeks, much softer than you did to him before, and closes the space between your mouths.

The kiss is a mere peck, but feathery and sweet, finished in a moment. But it’s delightful, how giddy you still look when you ask, “What was that for?”

His shoulders rise again to a shrug, thumb brushing along your skin. And then, he backs away and leaves with a last statement that is so simple that it really shouldn’t stir your stomach the way it does— “Nothing at all. Could just do it all day.”

Jungkook looks around the dimly lit hall.

Very natural how the gallery collector chose an artistic museum-café for the first meet-up, surrounded by tiny shops offering bookmarks and puzzles of popular pieces.

Of course, the mere reason for this was the collector’s professional visit before Jungkook arrived, coinciding with this meeting only because the guy’s calendar was — as he claimed — already filled to the brim.

Fine by Jungkook. If circumstances offered a way to get into one of his favourite museums for free, just because the man vis-à-vis allowed him in, he wasn’t going to say no.

And the café is of the extraordinary sort — not at the end of the exhibition, behind some souvenir shop, right next to the exit. It’s situated in the middle of the first floor, surrounded by a couple entrances that lead to different eras of painted magic.

The exhibitions are showcased in rooms as brightly lit as the one Jungkook presented his own work in, but the hall housing the café-restaurant in the middle resembles a castle. Lights warm as candles, ceilings high, walls an art of their own.

And amidst all the wonder, there’s him, nervous and fumbling as the gallery collector, Mr. Paik, takes in each page of the portfolio with eagle eyes. Jungkook would run if he could, come back when the man has formed a verdict.

But instead, Jungkook slurps his flat white and waits, eyes bigger than ever as he stares through his growing bangs. And then, Paik finally nods a bit, forefinger tapping at a random spot on the page before he says, entirely unrelated, “You have some good connections, don’t you?”

“I— uh,” Jungkook sits up, uprighting his torso, naming the one person Paik already knows of, “I have Kim Namjoon.”

“Okay. Really, he is more than enough, too.” He shuts the portfolio, only to open it again to one of the first works. “You do have exceptional talent and are in good hands with Namjoon. A convenient combination if you ask me.”

“I think so, too. I have a lot to thank him for.”

“Mmhm, this is incredible. It takes people years sometimes to work their way into a gallery. And that without open calls or random submissions — I mean, possible, but rare.”

“I really am thankful, sir,” Jungkook says, voice a bit livelier. This is what he’s been wanting to hear all those years; it pumps a vast amount of energy into his soul. “Honestly. I can barely believe I was even part of a group exhibition, either.”

Paik laughs, multiple little crinkles of age collecting at the corners of his eyes. He puts a hand on the table, fingers brushing the saucer under his cup.

Then he asks, “Why’s that? Your awareness of detail is great. You can surely work your way up if you give your best, and people will definitely see how much you love doing this, too.”

“I am certainly intending to work hard. Thank you so much.”

A burden falls off Jungkook’s chest and lightens the space. Of course, this is just the beginning and the true trials are still ahead. But this is still a more than opportune way to start out; to find a footing in this area of work and then climb up to success.

The moment paired with the coffee leaves Jungkook hyped to the bone, but he attempts his best to remain composed. Not that he can hide much of his telling smile, and the man in front of him sees through him quickly.

He asks, “Excited, yes?”

Jungkook sighs in relief; his pupils are probably enlarged as hell. “I can’t even find the words. To tell you the truth, I was so anxious about this for so long. And I really want people to feel the same way you did just now. It has been a goal for the longest time.”

He’s probably rambling — so much to staying calm. But perhaps it’s just right, to show his humane side, to actually manifest into words all that his hands bring to paper. Artists are vulnerable; why not show all of it instead of stashing his heart?

“I will help as best as I can,” Paik says, and Jungkook half nods, half bows, ready to nearly tear up until the collector’s next words freeze him on his chair, “we could start out with an art fair. There’s one at the end of November, so in around a month? Not long before the gallery showing. Do you want to come?”

…What?

Let’s see…

That’s in nearly three weeks. No time left at all. Everything is happening so fast that it appears downright unbelievable, too good to be true — never for a second did Jungkook expect for opportunities to fall into his hands like this.

Insane. Insane. Insane.

“No?” Paik asks again, and Jungkook soon notices that he’s supposed to answer, that he hasn’t said or done anything yet, other than to ponder his luck in his head.

“D-do I want to—” he stammers, aware that his conversation partner is amusingly registering each of Jungkook’s joys.

“I mean, it’s not that easy. You’d have to present your stuff and create new things — if you want. And select pieces you could sell. The competition can be tough, but I wouldn’t be worried—”

Oh fuck.

Half his heart is thrilled about the chance; the other half dreads the moment, finding artworks he can give away. And if nobody purchases it? Or even fails to find their way to his booth? And can he do a lot in three weeks at all?

“You can also just come and look around, without being one of the showcasers, too!” Paik tries to comfort, but—

Isn’t this what Jungkook wants? To show the world pieces of his himself, what he loves, what he’s always done?

Wouldn’t it be thoroughly stupid to say no?

Paik tries again, giving Jungkook some space to think about it. He comments, “I’ll give you some time. But I suggested it because you bring exceptional talent to the table and I know I’m not the only one wanting you to grow quickly.”

“Yes… yes, I can barely wait either,” Jungkook starts, nervously laughing, “but is that even possible? Can I afford to rush it…?”

“Are you really rushing it, though, if you’re doing what you enjoy? Then again,” Paik pauses, thinks about it, “you’re not wrong. I wouldn’t make my hobby a chore. If you feel like it’s too stressful, you can take your time. I’m sure you can make it big either way, no matter when.”

“You are too kind, Mr. Paik.”

“Honest,” he corrects with a soft, likeable smile, “take it easy.”

“Yes. God, I’m just perplexed because—” Jungkook puffs out some breath, blinking. His nervously shaking hands curl into fists, thoughts all over the place. “I’ve always wanted this. My own studio and everything.”

“But it’s too much at once?”

“No… yes. I mean, I want this, but I just can’t believe my luck.”

“You underestimate yourself. You can reach your goals with ease.”

Jungkook offers a vibrant smile, mixed with a bit of concern but with elation, too. When you love something too much, the fear of losing it grows even bigger. But maybe he should focus on what’s in front of him; and right now, it’s a huge ass break just to happen.

“Okay. You know what — I will give it a try. Why not?” Jungkook says, coming way too close to cursing, too close to throwing in words of strong eagerness. “I can already think of so many things. A couple old pieces can be refined by then as well.”

“Remember that you can opt out anytime, I won’t mind. You still have the gallery showcase.” Paik leans forwards, hands folding on the table. “But Mr. Jeon… I wouldn’t worry too much. You are already at a level of ambition that often bears great results. Don’t let any of it falter.”

His words tattoo themselves into Jungkook’s hearts. Somehow, he reckons this is a memory that’ll stay carved in his mind, repeating even if he fails; on loop when he succeeds — many years after today, he’ll remember these joys.

Crazy.

Jungkook’s tense muscles calm as some ease and confidence wash into him, and with a heart full of aspiration and a mind filled with ideas, he says,

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Once the high-reaching waves of delirium have ebbed down and Jungkook calms from soaring, he finds himself in smoggy hesitation. Or maybe, it’s not really that — more so growing portions of panic.

The more he thinks about it, the more his mind whirs. Yes, no doubt, he’s got half a dozen ideas already; he was certainly not lying about that. But — he’s not the only artist in the world. And he definitely won’t be the only or first one to attend the fair, or to be part of a gallery.

So much is at stake, so much to give. He has never considered failure an option; aside from you, art has always been the one thing he’s been sure about, the one skill he’s confided in and understood to the core.

But with all that hope and support comes fear, too, and Paik, while indescribably kind, has awoken pressure in Jungkook he had never put on himself before.

Hours later, as you meet him on your way back home, he doesn’t seem nervous to you just yet. You wait in front of the entrance of the building that holds Namjoon’s studio, car parked not too far. If you’d known he’d be rushing here even on his day off, you’d have told him to take the vehicle today.

Conveniently, you finished just a little earlier than he did, driving all the way to this corner of the town. It’s not particularly close to your work. But despite his retelling of the meet-up with the gallery guy today, you had an odd feeling about Jungkook.

He sounded enthusiastic first; then, different. Not necessarily worried, but his voice had changed and he was in a hurry, pushing the conversation to, “Later.”

“What’s up?” you ask the moment he finds you.

There’s ease in the kiss he presses to your cheek, melting relief in his doe-brown eyes. But you don’t know…

Given the news, you feel like he’s lacking the fitting glow.

“Nothing new since the afternoon,” he answers, light crooked smile as he finds your hand to hold, “what about you?”

You shake your head. “No, I mean. Are you okay?”

“Huh? Struck one of the biggest deals of my life. Is there any other way to feel?”

That’s it… considering the fact that this exact thing happened, you sure cannot hear the excited tremble that such an opportunity usually elicits. He isn’t properly looking at you either. Smiling and swinging your arms, yeah, but staring ahead and sighing, too.

“Tired,” Jungkook responds, a tell-tale answer to Jungkook-esque anxiety and scarily common in human conversations these days, “just really tired. There’s a lot to think about in the upcoming future.”

“Hmm, yes.”

You let the thought marinate, for a moment even browsing your brain for ideas you can deliver additionally to the ones he already has. And he’s distracted, too, walking the rest of the way to the car mostly in peaceful silence.

But when you get in, insisting on driving, especially after his admissions of exhaustion, you prod again, “You know, this is a huge thing. I felt out of my mind when I started at Novaura. It’s okay to feel nervy or something.”

You push the key into the ignition, watching as he nods, a surprisingly steady voice telling you, “I know. Of course, that’s normal.”

Yet, as the seconds pass and the motor roars, you feel him grow uneasy on the passenger’s seat. It’s not until you pull out of the parking lot and near the first traffic light that he finally fesses up.

“I feel really fucking weird.”

You turn to him. The day is darkening and the red traffic light colouring his face extra bright. In it, he looks particularly concerned and frightened, accompanying his words with a deep exhale. He rubs his chin for a second.

And when you dig, “Weird how?”, he says, “I’m just unsure about what I got myself into.”

“Into something you will love to do.”

“Yeah, I mean — I just get why people say it’s dangerous to turn your hobby into work. He said exceptional talent today and my God. It’s very scary, landing amidst many good artists that I might not be able to compare with.”

You hum, checking for pedestrians before taking a right turn. You chew over his words before you ultimately tell him, “You don’t need to compare, though, do you? I thought that was never really the objective.”

“No, but… in the end, competition is crucial.”

“Oh… Jungkook. It’ll all turn out just right.”

It’s all you can do at the moment; wrap your words in honeyed support, extra sweet as you operate the wheel. But he’s distracted; staring out the window, blinking slowly, a hand on his cheek — he looks magnificent even like this, nearly animated.

“Hey,” you start, overcome with bits of guilt that you can’t help better. At home, you’ll prepare a loose schedule for him, boost motivation. You pat the back of his hand resting on his thigh, tell him, “Be yourself. Present what you love. People see passion, so whatever you do, it’ll be enough.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen a fraction; Paik said something similar.

“Present what I love.” He tries out the words, inhales the crips air blowing in from the open slit of the window. Then — displays his signature smirk. “So shall I take you with me?”

It’s only that he meets your eyes again when yours narrow, playfully judgemental and incredibly amused. The humour he finds in every situation…

The palm previously touching his skin lifts and pushes at his shoulder, and you say, “You’re disgusting.”

“It’d be a win-win moment, though. I can just bring you anywhere,” he still jokes, though bits of light remorse resonate in his voice, too. You get why when he says, “After all, I’ll have to be away from you for a little, too.”

Ah… that.

“Well, I mean. Busy times are ahead anyway. I’ll drown myself in work,” you say.

“Yeah. I don’t know. God, this is… stressful.”

You move into your alley, a reflex when the pace slows and you carefully turn into the garage. Jungkook and you abandoned the random parking lots outside that are almost never free and opted for a paid spot in the garage instead.

Big advantage. It’s inside and not a 5-minute-walk away, warmer in the winter, cooler in the summer. And many lots are free because not everybody needs a car or a parking space.

So… it’s often empty…

Right. Mostly empty. Right now, just him and you.

An idea pops into your mind.

Or rather, a tempting reminder. An old joke, indecent, said in excited moments that you forgot about for a while. Life got hectic.

But… hm.

You let the engine die, taking off your seatbelt, but you don’t leave the car just yet. As Jungkook, lost in thoughts, targets for the handle to strut up to your apartment, you hold him back by his elbow. Tug at the jacket.

“Kook.”

He looks back. Big, big eyes. You almost feel bad for thinking what you’re thinking, because there is no way that huge ass pupils like this could ever give into anything but innocent. If you didn’t know this man and the things he does to you, that’s what you’d assume…

“Can I tell you something?” you inquire.

“What?”

He sits back down, fingers falling off the handle. The questioning look turns more curious, but not worried — you don’t look like you have anything evil to confess. Your cheeks heat up.

“I was missing you today,” you confess. How lame — but a start. You shrug a shoulder to yourself. “Like, can’t-work-properly kinda missing.”

“Yeah? Well, welcome in my head,” the tip of his forefinger pokes his temple, “I miss you all the time.”

You keep staring. Wait for the right moment, ponder whether it’d be better to just leave him be tonight. To let him go up, shower, eat a comforting meal and drop into the mattress. But you’re already riled up at your thoughts; already closing your thighs.

It’s just this dumb joke you have, to execute a specific idea on any day that you might need to. When the days are gloomy and the time is right and you feel like experimenting, distracting yourselves.

Suggestions uttered in steamy moments are usually whatever, mostly just a product of brave craze. Yet, it could be a temporary remedy.

Jungkook’s eyes follow your confused thighs. Whatever he sees, it lights up his gaze a bit. Opens his eyelids. His eyes move back to yours and he blinks again, asks you, “Do you want something? Need something?”

He inches closer. Just enough for you to feel his breaths, fingers pinching your chin. But there’s no lewd intention behind this yet. The touch is pure and modest.

You don’t think he’s caught onto you enough to initiate what you’re willing to give, but it’s still something… he doesn’t seem the least bit surprised when you say, “I’d just— love a kiss right now.”

“A kiss?” He laughs. Of course he knew. “Sure that’s not because you knew I needed one?”

“You’re not the only one who has needs an—”

Your words are cut off as they often are; the impish smile stays as his lips meet yours, but he’s still careful, loving, vulnerable after the week he had.

But for now, you don’t say anything — can’t do it anyway as he moves his mouth gently, kissing you sweetly, not for too long but still enough for your tummy to react. So you hold back a bit less when you part, starting, “This might sound sudden—”

You wait. Then, he asks, “But?”

“But… Do you want to… leave it out somewhere? The stress.”

Just a little, he backs away. Perhaps he didn’t expect to hear this already. Maybe he thought you’d promise more, promise a tender night once your door had closed. But you’re feeling like taking a risk today.

“Huh?” he voices.

“It’s what you think, I think—”

“Like now?”

“Like now. Like here. I mean it.”

“…Seriously?”

You nod just once.

He hesitates. Sure he does — is there anyone in this world who wouldn’t give it a thought, so exposed here, a bit hidden but in a garage open to at least some neighbours anyway? Yes, there probably is.

But Jungkook is… an enigma right now. You don’t know what he’ll say. Give in because he digs adventures like this? Lowkey one to enjoy risks, too, to feel the thrill of you under him, trying to compose yourself, to not be too loud; to give you everything in a space that requires caution?

Or maybe… he’ll just shake his head, roll his eyes and leave. Declare you a fool, laugh at you for suggesting it at all. Tease you with it even at a ripe age.

Damn it, you can’t read his expression.

So you wait. Wait for seconds that feel like minutes, watching him cock an eyebrow, look around, lean back, sigh. As if he’s thinking about it hard; harder than work. As hard as his pants stir.

Well.

Then—

“I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“What?”

“You offer that I let out my stress on you,” he repeats, and you nod, “obviously I won’t hurt you, but… I don’t know how hard I’ll snap.”

Oh, fuck… the liquid is pooling between your legs. The everlasting, old effect of his…

You’re quick to let him know, “I don’t mind.” You draw closer, a hand on his knee, inching up until you feel just the beginning of his stiffening member. You withdraw, put a kiss to the corner of his lips. “I honestly don’t.”

“Not even if somebody walks past?”

You toy with the hem of his jacket. “Don’t give a fuck.”

“Angel…”

“Yeah?”

“Sure?”

“Kook—”

“Okay— Okay. Just, you… You’ll tell me if it’s too much?” Shit. That’s it. Your eyes expand; you can’t believe he surrendered. You guess your effect on him is just as apparent. “Because I might…”

“I know. Yes, of course I will.”

“My God,” he whispers, fingers to your wrist, but so featherlight that it doesn’t affect anything. “Nobody who might know me once I’m famous better see me causing… a scandal already.”

You let out a gasp, faux-offended — the two of you have already learned to laugh about the news articles in the past that concerned you. Now, it’s whatever. But the timing of the jest is just right.

Because his grip tightens suddenly around your wrist, and the frisky gasp you let out turns into a real one. Morphs into a tiny shriek when he pulls you into him, dropping another quiet F-bomb and then commanding, “Back seat. Now.”

He doesn’t need to tell you twice. You get out of the car and back into it at a speed that is nearly embarrassing; especially considering how leisurely he strolls back, a hand through his hair, jacket zipped open.

It’s cold outside, but you feel warm somehow. Well, if you get sick because you were stupid… you won’t mind this time. You could squeak in electrified anticipation.

But not a sound escapes when he finally gets in, luring you into the corner and against the seat before a hand grabs your face and brings his mouth back to yours.

Again, for just a second. He doesn’t make too much of a fuss today, doesn’t say too much; it doesn’t happen often, but sometimes, like now, he does go straight into it with an incredibly determined mind.

And he probably doesn’t have anything to say anyway. His eyes are too foggy. Or at least, nothing except commands. Such as, “Turn around.”

You take off your shoes and your jacket, try to get into position… It’s not easy. Not in such a confined space, not with both your bodies here; not even when he leans back. He’s a big man, after all…

“You tell me if it gets uncomfortable,” he mutters, still soft when you get your knees onto the seat.

But your feet graze his hands, too close to his body; Jungkook fixes the issue fast. Grabs one of your legs and places it down, foot attempting to steady on the car’s floor. The other leg is squeezed along the back of the seat, next to his own leg.

It’s not too comfortable, but not bad enough to complain either. You can still endure easily; it’s not a chore to do so anyway when he leans down, grabbing your jacket and throwing it into the passenger seat. Or when his warm hands crawl beneath your top, raise it, lips just barely brushing your skin.

He wants to do far more than this, but the space doesn’t allow as much; you know that under different circumstances, he’d let his tongue wander down. But he can’t lean back more than this, so he lets the fingers do their job.

Tugs at your jeans, following the hem, unbuttoning them once he reaches the front.

He circumnavigates along your skin until he’s caressing your ass, allowing another chaste touch just to return to the spot that was covered under the jeans’ button a second ago. The movements are scarce, with an unspoken purpose that you can’t decipher just yet.

Possibly to his own pleasure, to take you in inch by inch, to feel the heat in his already alight fingertips.

And then, without a word or a warning, he yanks your jeans down, bringing the baggy material way to your knees. Your panties are still in place, unfortunately, still a probably irritating obstacle to the delirious hazard behind you.

But you guess he contains his urge to run wild, instead asking with a voice drenched in syrup, “Feeling cold?”

“Surprisingly not…” you tell him, lifting the hand once you notice it’s clinging to the car’s door handle. Nah — would be awkward to fall out half naked now. “Even if I was, I’d take the fever for this.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue, cursing under his breath; you can nearly feel and clearly see him shaking his head without even looking at him. He says, “You’re impossible. Then again,” he sighs, “if you just knew. My view is definitely worth the cold.”

“Shut up. Do something.”

It’s supposed to come out as an order, but you end up sounding as though you’re pleading instead. It must entertain him as much as it embarrasses you because he, clearly helped by the abundant sarcasm in his mind, responds, “Yes, yes. Certainly.”

At least he keeps his promise — happily obliges when he presses a finger to your nub. Not too harshly — it doesn’t hurt when he rubs the cotton panties against your skin before he moves to push them aside.

And you’re neither surprised nor ashamed when his digit slips right in, a smooth one fell swoop motion, prying out a satisfied sound.

You need to feel all of this. Need to be more comfortable. So you press your forehead against the door; immediately feel it when he pumps his fingers in and out slowly, follows the slight changes in your position.

He doesn’t stop. Continues until his movements quicken just a tad, but then slow down again. Initial instinct tells you that he’s already toying with you, using your devotion to him to tease you towards insanity.

But that’s not true. He’s still too hazy-brained to really think further than this mere touch, admitting to you, “This… is not easy.”

Oh… yeah. You’ve been kneeling here awkwardly; didn’t really think about how strange it must be for the almighty sex god sitting behind you, too. Besides…

“Wouldn’t have guessed,” you tell him; push his ego, “was already pretty fucking nice.”

He laughs, more so lovingly than mischievously. You told him to not hold back tonight, but you know Jungkook — in the end, even he can’t resist your charms. There’s an unspoken and spoken adoration between the two of you and he can never help but showcase it like this.

He attempts to provoke, “You’ll love anything I do, though, no?”

“You say it like you’re any different.”

“Shut up,” he instantly imitates, landing a couple faint slaps to your ass as he shifts. “And get up.”

And you listen instead of opting for snarky remarks. The faster you indulge, the quicker he’ll deliver. Fuck, you want him to.

The kisses don’t end for the night when you very briefly face him again, half turned to him with an arm backwards around his head. Your lips lock only for a moment before he takes a proper sit in the middle, tugging you up to him.

It’s funny, how he’d never kiss you months ago, no matter how many hints you left and no matter how badly his body urged for it; and now he’s never capable of stopping. Back then, his mind warned him to stay back; that it’d only throw him into this endless pit of madness and falling in love if he gave in.

In truth, he already had. Found out better late than never.

The entire process of moving in here, entangling your limbs and trying your best in barely a square meter, is draining, but you find a solution quickly. Granted, said solution is messy and forces your head against the ceiling for a painful second, but…

Once in his lap and between his legs, everything seems irrelevant.

And you hope he didn’t notice anyway. But of course he did. His laughter reveals it; you tried to brush off how you rubbed your head, to hide it behind your heavy breaths, but Jungkook is attentive. So you join in, surrendering to the playfulness amidst the ardour until it dies in your throat.

Gone and faded when he puts a hand around your neck, pulling you closer; your back is secured to his chest.

And goddamn, the kisses are wet. Sloppy, dirty, landing on more free inches of your skin when he lifts your head, other hand busy roaming over your tits — then further down, down your body, your top, your stomach, once again past the panties that fell back over your drenched pussy.

And the aching clit… begging and swollen. Just waiting for him to come back.

You let out a sigh and sound so lustful, it surprises even you.

And Jungkook, warm, heavy and hard under you, holds you tight, muttering to himself, “Okay.” Waits, breathes, licking his lips before he shortens, “‘Kay.”

You lean forwards when he cups your pussy, and then sit back — or rather, you are forced back as he tugs you in, greedy and fucked out of his mind. You grip his thighs when he sneaks closer to your awaiting hole, brushing over your leg, and then right back in.

God, the calculated movements…

Rounding the clit… gauging the wetness… stuffing you more and further and better.

And you feel it all. Every nerve lighting up, walls tighter around him now before relaxing again. Your lower tummy builds up the knot, and you let your head fall back onto his shoulder; only, it’s just your cheek that lands against his, free to be kissed.

“Spread them more,” he whispers against your jaw, nibbling at the earlobe. “These…”

He repeats when you don’t register. Then you take another moment to understand what you can spread, stupidly mistaking his order to hold apart your nether lips; but you soon realise that you’ve decreased the angle your legs stand in.

“Wha—?” you question, even though you’re aware of what to do. You just… you want to feel his piping hot breath against your aflame skin again.

“I said,” he starts, a harsh grip around your thigh pulling it to the side. Your heart rate increases. “Spread.”

Ah…

You’re already so sensitive even without any orgasm, and the sensation keeps you moving, legs shutting involuntarily. And he keeps parting them, pumping harder — but apparently, he wants to focus on more than on actually holding you in place.

You grin. Your mistake.

But you guess this route distracts him from daily issues just as much.

Especially when you let your legs fall over his own, dangling, keeping them there and spreading to your maximum abilities. He can take you out now. And he does. The squelching sounds, lewd, louder even in this car than in your spacious bedroom, make it clear.

Because now he’s using two fingers at once. Knuckles deep. Massaging the right spot inside with ease. The way he knows what he’s doing nearly renders you jealous — but then you realise he had plenty of time to practice on you, too.

There’s a reason for his extensive knowledge of your body, after all.

Like how you want his fingers inside, a thumb on your bud or his hands around your firm nipples. How you love the nasty fantasy of him spreading your cum over your tits, just as he is now when you release your high, screaming into the car, arching your back for seconds.

You attempt to get in between, to quicken the orgasm, to shift until nothing’s left in you. But Jungkook is eager to take over the work; pins your intruding hand to your thigh when you try to touch yourself again.

One more, “Stop this, will you?” is dropped before he is back to your clit, overstimulating you to whimpers.

Are you a masochist for loving this? Did he make you like this? Maybe — probably. You won’t complain. You will take it… want to take it. His angel, yes?

You turn to look at him. You barely see him properly from this proximity and in this light, but you do recognise a hooded gaze meeting into your own eyes’ daze. He closes the distance to steal another kiss, but then he stops; keeps staring at you instead.

He prefers this sometimes. Mouth agape. Forehead close to yours. A sweet voice asking, “What? I can stop whenever.”

Whether it’s a threat or a reassurance, you don’t know. You’ll take both; either does it for you right now.

“No,” you protest, “I told you to let it out.”

“But…” The sly smile returns. The switch from caring boyfriend to reckless devil is rapid, absolute madness. “But I do enjoy tormenting you.”

You tsk, “Then, do whatever the fuck you want. You know what I want.”

“Right… Do it then,” he begins, his voice almost imperceivable. “Take a seat.”

What an ass…

Not in the back seat, obviously; he has most of it occupied already, manspreading as he is. No, he’s talking about that throne of yours that you keep claiming on the regular. The one that…

You clear your head. If you don’t focus on lifting, you won’t be able to. Willpower.

And while moments of giddy weakness do pass, you manage to separate from him by a few inches, keeping an eye on his erection as he hurries — struggles — to take off his pants. It’s a hassle; you bump your head again, too, swearing, “Fucking hell.”

He doesn’t laugh this time. Too busy to rid himself off his boxers, letting the divine cock spring out, towering, veiny, big and fat. It grows by the second when you sit down again, settling between your ass cheeks, twitching.

Your slip is the last hurdle. Which you do try to remove before that pain in the ass — not literally, though you wished it was — brings his fingers back to where you ache for him, gives you some more, still overstimulating and edging when you say, “Bit more — just a bit—”

You’d rather have something else inside, but Jungkook is resolute today, and you will not be one to have a problem with it. Not with him, not ever.

You clench your jaw as you crawl closer to your high again, raising yourself and pumping him in retaliation before he finally gives up around a minute later and a strained voice quite literally demands, “Sit the fuck down.”

“…Pleasure.”

And that’s it.

He impales you so deeply; you never get used to it, always think it’s ending when it doesn’t. Hear the absolutely, devastatingly sinful moans he lets out, see the heavenly attractive face he makes when you look at him.

Your breaths are stagnant when you move back up and slap down onto his legs. Keep giving until something snaps in you after a mere minute already.

This orgasm he built was an intense one, and you awaited it, already knowing you’d wave the white flag very fast already. You’re surprised it took this long at all; you had anticipated to come undone the moment he entered you.

But it still makes your legs quiver. Strains and then relaxes your muscles, numbs you inside out, your body uncontrolled as you unwind in waves. How does he manage to do this each time? How do men usually not?

If you weren’t proud and possessive, and if privacy wasn’t a construct in relationships and the entirety of the world, you’d suggest for him to give a crash course to men on how to help a girl out. At least one guy does it fucking right.

Oh, anyone being fucked like this is just—

You exclaim in lust as you keep bouncing, his fingers pinching your nipples, teeth digging into your shoulder. He remembers that he’s the one supposed to let himself go tonight, and soon reverses, delivering smacks to your pussy before he parts your legs again.

And then… starts hammering from below.

Reflexively, you look down.

You still can’t recognise much in the dark, but you do see the hardness driving into you and out of you. His thrusts are wild, his balls bouncing — you cover them with a hand around them, massaging them and playing until he loses it.

“What the fuck—”

You love it when he expresses such a thing. Cursing, whispering it. It disturbs his rhythm, but that doesn’t mean the ramming stops. Still deep, still fast, still accompanied by low-pitched, guttural, exhausted sounds.

You soon hold onto his legs again, keeping yourself from falling to the side. Then again, Jungkook is well wrapped around you, and he won’t let you go anywhere just now. Not until he’s done with you, and you’re done with any feeling in your body.

What if you just stayed here tonight, told him to keep doing this over and over again? Would he do it…?

You’re so desperate, aren’t you?

“Oh, God… angel,” he only murmurs, biting harder into your shoulder before he moans against it. “Mmh— I love you. And this pu— oh, fuck—”

He can’t talk anymore. Too fast down there, a jarring pace, chasing his peak now at all cost. You’re permanently thirsty for this very moment; when you’re already all wet around him, spilled and filthy, waiting for him to lose control with only one goal in mind.

Seriously, anyone being fucked like this is lucky. You cracked a jackpot in the middle of a hundred concerns.

Crazy how you ran from them by letting him rail you on his small dorm room table, the front of your torso pushed down onto it or cheeks touching the cold of his door. He’d always find a way to bring you to tears of longing, but you didn’t think you’d ever find deeper affection in this passion someday.

But there is. So much of it when he kisses your neck again and then your jaw, raising your legs, keeping them up. Shooting his cock far up into you and pounding you breathless like a doll; all at the same time as he whispers, “I love you, baby. I love you.”

It is never a confession he misses. Like clockwork, always present. Words that don’t convey just yet what he feels but all he can still revert to.

This is what he meant by not holding back. He wouldn’t just stop fucking his craving into you, but all he’s grown to feel, too. And shit, do you love him, too—

He said he didn't know what he’d do. But he does.

Because despite the craze he’s delivering, he’s still somehow careful around you. Even now; always. Even while spreading your pussy wound. Injecting it into his words when he asks, “You… good?”

“Yes, yes,” you yell out; how could you hold back, lower your volume now? “Yes— Kook—”

“I know, yes, m-me…” A pause in between to catch his breath; he’s so fatigued but keeps going. “Me too.”

You call out again, and his hand flies up, leaving your body to shut your mouth. Unrelated, he admits, “Wish I could stuff a-all your holes.” Then shakes his head. “I dunno what sounds you’d make—”

You don’t know either; you can barely imagine it. Imagine anything. And you’re so permanently intrigued by this statement — he keeps saying it. Keeps teasing you. You’re still waiting for this fortunate day.

“You go– got me good last time,” he says, referring to the empty countryside house and the charm you bewitched him with, “my turn now.”

Indeed it is. He’s still not done.

Not at all as he pulls out suddenly, much to your demise, and throws you onto the seat and says, “Ass up. Bit like before.”

He sniffs, and as you look over your shoulder, you see him pushing back the hair and the shirt up to his chest, abs visible even in the faint lights of the garage. You are more than surprised that nobody walked past your car yet.

Or maybe, you just didn’t notice.

Who cares anyway…

You just want to focus. Not on them, but on how he pushes himself back into you, harsh from the start, leaning in with a finger in your mouth again to swallow some of your sounds. He pulls up your ass, pushes down your torso.

Your body is his leverage as his hands settle on your back, his cock shooting back and forth. Pelvis slapping against your ass, loud and aggressive, balls deep…

When he comes, your wrists are in his grip somehow. He’s kissing your shoulder again, endless loads of seed filling you up. His movements are irregular, too, sounds staggering on top of yours, thrusts slower but still deep until he’s… done.

Breathing heavily, he tries not to collapse over you, not getting enough air. But he doesn’t dare to open the windows or the door, either. With all the sweat, the two of you would be sure to get sick, and neither of you can, in hindsight, have it right now.

So you wait. Let him and yourself take a moment, reluctant to let him fall out of you just yet. This is somehow… nice. How he stirs and shrinks, keeping your body warm.

You turn your face to plant your cheek to the seat, and Jungkook, letting out a tiny, tired laugh, says, “Why did you even do your make up today?” Unserious question, really, because he’d never oppose your love for make up. But— “Guess it won’t be difficult to remove it today if I’ve already smeared most of it.”

“Oh fuck…” you say, trying to lift your body with your elbows, but you fall back due to his weight on half of you, “we’ll need to properly clean up the car this weekend.”

“Can’t even think about it right now.”

“Right. So… shall I stop doing my make up from now on?”

“No. It’s up to you,” he immediately answers — but then, like the ass he is, he says, “as long as you’re okay with having it ruined every day.”

You reach for his knee, slapping it as you say, “Sex maniac.”

“I’m not a sex maniac,” he protests, “it’s not about sex but about you.”

You understand — there were times when it was different, for both of you; no matter whether with each other or with others. Sometimes, sex does stem from pure lust, a consensual passing of time.

But you always sensed that the two of you were far more than that. Maybe not a couple-to-be, but certainly more than a way to pass time. Perhaps the night at the frat party so long ago already felt different, too…

“If you say so,” you tell him, wiggling your butt. He’s already soft, but you still utter, “Wish there was a camera to see what’s going on back there sometimes.”

“Mmmh. It looks pretty fucking good,” he says, pulling out, the panties back at their place as he traps the cum inside for now. “I’ll film it next time.”

“Seriously, man…”

You sit up. You already feel the liquid running out of you when you put your jeans back on; it’s somewhat disgusting, but a symbol of healthy obsession, too. It’s fine.

Besides, you’ll be up in your apartment in a jiffy.

“Truly, how do we clean this up…” you wonder as you look around, not able to see much anyway.

But he argues, “More importantly right now, how do we get to the apartment to clean you up?”

You wave him off with a hand. “Find a way. I can’t move and it’s your fault, so you figure it out.”

A hearty snicker follows, and you can’t help but lift your lips to a smile, too. He kisses your hair, and says, “I am somehow super proud of myself, hearing that.” He leans down, grabs a heavy piece of clothing. ��Put this on.”

Your jacket. It’s getting colder by the minute now.

“Up, up, then.”

And you do tumble up. Slowly and cautiously, muscles already aching and everything sore — he’s loving it. “Seeing you like this… I guess it wasn’t a bad idea after all.”

“Not at all,” you agree, “honestly, both routes are fun. My turn next time.”

“Sure. You’re all hot and sexy and make me feel hot and sexy until,” the key turns in the lock, opening the apartment door as he grows quieter, “my mother comes in and sees the clothes lying around the next morning.”

You gasp in indignation, instant embarrassment flooding through you as you think back to the fervent night and the whimsical morning. You whisper, “Did she?!”

But as always, Jeon Jungkook is a jerk.

“No. I’m kidding.” You reach for his arm, whining his name, but sighing in relief, too. “Sorry! But. They probably still knew, you know? Why does a couple ever leave a party early, really?”

You think for a second. Then hum in agreement, letting go of him as you shrug, “To fuck.”

“And now we know it’s valid to do so. Because we fucked fucked.” No shame whatsoever. No filter, either. You laugh. “Alright. We’ve still got time.” He hangs the jacket on the racket. “Hungry?”

“Yes and no. I’m famished, but also more than satisfied.” You walk in with a yawn. “A snack maybe? Full dinner in a bit?”

“I know what snack is code for.” He winks; you roll your eyes. “Okay, okay — wanna watch something in the meantime?”

“Sure.”

As you enter the living room, he looks around, asking, “Where’s the laptop?”

But you’re already taking a turn to the bedroom. Off to grab your clothes, take a quick shower and press a dent into the mattress. You repeat, “Don’t know. I’m not moving anymore. You get it.”

“Brat.”

But he still does.

Still cuddles into you with food, preparing tea and bringing your favourite snacks, tucking you in properly with all the effort left and right. He’s tired and probably still — or again — nervous, and yet he spends the rest of the hours watching some show you started until he starts obsessing again.

Over your heart, over your mind, over you. Barely a mutter when his cheek lands on your chest again, taking in your fragrance as he breathes, “This helped… still does. You always help.”

“…I just want you to know, baby, that… I’ll always believe in the best outcome. You’ll rock this.”

“I’ll rock this.” And as you whisper an exactly, he chuckles quietly. Moving further into you and your soul before he adds,

“Why do I never get used to you?”

You don’t respond — only smile, running your fingers through his silky hair.

But you know the answer.

For this is exactly what happens when the soul keeps falling in love with someone. Over and over again.

“You do know that we’re supposed to meet up with them in like,” you drop your eyes to your wrist, pulling back the sweater to unveil your watch, “forty minutes, right?”

“And you think they’ll complain about some extra time alone?”

You launch a blank stare, not a single blink as you watch him shrug a shoulder. He sports a smirk that you would’ve clenched your jaw to months ago, but today, even if you won’t admit it right this second, it amuses you.

He laughs when you stand there unmoving, like a stick figure silently reprimanding a lethargic boyfriend. You hate to break, but when the contagious chuckle infects you, too, you feel a wave of relief and serotonin ripple through you violently.

Jungkook hasn’t left vacation mode just yet; while the work for the art fair and gallery is still ongoing and he diligent, you catch him slouching ever so often, doodling away at times. You’ll confess, the grey outside is tiring; different from the sunnier countryside you left behind.

There’s a sort of post-bliss blues that even you can hardly shake off.

“You can’t deny that, can you?” he utters amidst his melodious laugh, and you roll your eyes, taking two big steps towards him — much like two days ago.

“I don’t have to deny it to still teach you the importance of punctuality, right? Get up,” you say, smacking his hip — and he uses the chance to lift his arm from under his head, reaching for you, but… failing. “Uh-uh. Enough with your tricks. Get up.”

Last night still wasn’t enough — is it ever? You’re not surprised; neither by his thirst nor by your own inner, involuntary reactions. But no time. It’s rude to let people wait.

And you know exactly what Jimin would say — tease — if the two of you arrived at the double lunch date with him and Yoongi late again.

Jungkook’s voice turns half into a yawn, half into a sigh, tired when he responds, “Yes, ma’am.”

This should do.

But since everything good comes in three, and just for good measure, you add another laser-glance, shooting at him in warning to lift his ass and meet you ready once you are, too. A playfully sigh breathed, you amble to the bathroom, make up awaiting on the sink from when you put it there this morning.

This shouldn’t take long; you’re opting for the minimalistic approach today.

As the hues colour your lips and fill your lashes, you hum a random melody you can’t quite identify. It’s quiet in the apartment until it isn’t — and when Jungkook’s voice chimes, your hand halts mid-mascara-stroke, assuming he’s calling for you.

He’s not; you understand this much when he greets the person on the other end in his liveliest tone at first, volume decreasing as the conversation continues. He’s soon hushed enough for you to not really make out proper words anymore. Hums here and there — Jungkook doesn’t seem to say much at all.

Perhaps it’s Yoongi, or Tae, telling a story. Narrating recent occurrences, the delights and pains that emerged and shrivelled on the vacation that you weren’t part of anymore.

You don’t ask just yet, decide not to disturb.

You finish up whatever is left of your routine, setting the make up and ruffling through your hair, adding volume. When the talk he’s indulging in still remains when you deem yourself ready, you let out a breather and step back into the bedroom.

Still in the same clothes and with the untamed hair as his crown, Jungkook’s gaze is lowered, fingers barely curled into the sheets. He’s sat up now; you see his Adam’s apple bob when you walk in. Instinctively and immediately, you blurt, “Now what did I tell you just a moment ago—”

But the jest dries in your throat and then fades, as dead as Jungkook’s eyes when he looks up at you. Or maybe… maybe they’re not dead.

More so — in disbelief. As if he hasn’t really fathomed what he’s just heard, mind sprinting in circles, attempting to understand.

His chest isn’t moving as it should, and just in general, his body emits inner trouble. Distress. When he lifts his pupils and shifts them towards you, it looks as if he’s hoping that your presence could reverse reality, as if you’re pulling him out of the inevitable quicksand.

But you can’t. You get it; see it right away.

Because the watery gaze and the gap between his lips, this expression, are new to you, no matter how many of his aches you’ve mended. And you guess it has something to do with what his conversation partner just said.

Something that certainly wasn’t part of today’s agenda at all.

They informed you that it happened sometime during the first few hours of last night; not entirely out of the blue, but sudden enough to cause a stir in the house. Neighbours saw the lights, posed questions the morning after.

Ria is a light sleeper, often alarmed when it comes to Gureum.

The whining tugged her forcefully out of her dreams, a bit more defeated and pained this time until exhaustion stopped it altogether. When Gureum’s soul threatened to leave, Ria pulled him into his arms just in time, seated in the middle of the printed carpet.

The shock was too intense to not wake the surroundings; she was nearly hysterical as she drove to the small town emergency vet clinic in a hurry, right in the middle of the night. Her eyes were too blurry to see the numbers on her phone, not clearing for so long until the first call finally chimed in your city and lit up Jungkook’s phone.

Recounting the last hours and the visit in the clinic. Asking what to do. Telling him what the vet had suggested. Revealing how saying goodbye and letting him rest was the kindest option according to the doctor.

Hearing as the Jeons thought and spoke about it, losing part of their hearts, and then after an hour, with a weight on their burdened chests — gave in.

You already know that Gureum’s whimpers weren’t new to the family, albeit less dispirited before — everyone was aware he’d been sick for a while.

It was just that — Jungkook expected far more time. Didn’t think his recent goodbye required any form of final words as the two of you left the town. You guess the tears he shed this morning inhabited not only deep grief, but inevitable, cruel regret, too.

He was already talking about a return during the holidays, how he’d crouch and wait as his forever-puppy charged towards him. The same fluffy face squished between Jungkook’s palms.

The plan shattered like a mirror.

You cancelled the double date as soon as he opened his mouth, barely a word properly announced. Swallowed and eaten amidst the rush of overwhelming emotions. You saw the endorphins decrease in his eyes in real time.

It was more than enough to remain within these walls and offer most of the solace you could possibly summon. He’d need some of the quiet now. Basic human reaction; what good would it do to force himself out the sheets if his body refused so fiercely?

You told him. And then he broke down harder; now that he had no reason to veil the red-rimmed eyes that the tears caused, he let them out in waves, in bursts, unafraid.

Unbelievable, how a singular second could change the course of the day and, possibly, the upcoming week. You knew the moment you saw his face. He didn’t need to verbalise his shock — but when he told you what was going on, your heart still splintered.

The circumstances hit you like a brick, but you figure that they smashed into him like a truck.

And you’re uncertain whether you’re doing this right. Cannot figure out how to properly comfort him, to siphon off the torment. Will pulling him in, hugging him into you serve as a bandage enough? Or uttering the right words to clear the overcast mind?

You wish you were as good with your words as you are on paper.

As good as he is when you, or anybody, is hurting. You wish you could undo this morning.

But you can’t, and the underlying, rooted affection will worsen all that’s already broken.

Because loving somebody who’s gone like this is different from losing them to the world and to time and space and distance. This very love isn’t reciprocated anymore because there is no beating heart left to feel — and you can’t alter what the reality confronts you with.

You just keep loving because you remember and as long as you remember.

And because you feel that if you didn’t, you could impossibly ever honour their once cherished existence. As if forgetting could erase them out of history, when it of course never does.

You know it; once Jungkook has allowed to let him feel it all, you know he will, too. Because the only way to truly brighter days has always ever been through the misty pain. For now, you can only hold him, be here.

Mourn with him as his voice breaks through the silence that befell the late night, muttering, “How does any creature lose a fight against nature when it loved it so much before?”

His voice is so fragile and small; so is he. He’s probably only half expecting an answer when you whisper, “Nature gives and then takes…”

He nods against your clavicles, shrinking on the couch. Half on your body, eyes drooping.

“I read somewhere that… that nature needs to keep a balance for the world to stay intact. But,” he sighs through the exhaustion. The tears have dehydrated him; you throw a glance at the half drunk water on the coffee table. “But pets should be an exception.”

You guess that if this wretched world, separated by hate and misery, could come together and agree on one thing, it’d probably be this very request to exempt all that’s innocent.

You wish the universe and souls worked like this.

“I know.” You halt, mind travelling to what you remember of the Maltese, and then say, “Talking about nature… You once mentioned something about snakes, didn’t you? We never got to the end of the story.”

Your eyes drift to his profile. His muscles are still somewhat weak, keeping the corners of his mouth south, but you think you recognise a little smile nevertheless. And then, he nods again, just before recounting a memory in detail, surprisingly fresh and sharp.

He tells you about how Gureum would detect random snakes in the meadow or fields sometimes, follow them. Dogs are generally curious, but Gureum seemed to have, as Jungkook jokingly deducts, close to no awareness of the dangers around him.

You chuckle.

“And then, with time, he got used to me telling him not to touch or chase the snakes,” he continues, “and I remember him running towards me one day, with an incredibly weirdly shaped snake between his teeth and… I almost died.”

“Holy shit—”

“I kinda flipped just looking at him.” This time, he shakes his head. “Except, it wasn’t a dead snake, just a really damn strange looking, thick orange-brown stick. But I was already scolding him and he did not like my tone.”

“You can be scary. When you tell me to unplug the toaster after using it and stuff?”

Jungkook snickers lightly, joining your sound, and explains, “Gureum wasn’t used to it, though, that spoiled little ball of cotton.”

“Yeah, but… I would’ve gotten half a heart attack, too. Must have been terrifying for the first few moments.”

“But,” he intervenes, “I shouldn’t have been mean. I remember the way he looked at me, all disappointed.” He sighs, and you feel the breath against your skin. “And then he avoided me. Pissed and pouty in his basket on our way back. He— he didn’t look at me until I apologised with a snake toy I found in a shop. Boy loved that.”

“Oh, I saw the toy.” You recall the old and ripped plushie half buried underneath the rest of Gureum’s toy, scattered on the ground under the TV. “Looked all vandalised.”

“Yeah.”

There’s another stillness in the room as the soundwaves die, broken only by your breathing and your eventual hum. Jungkook slowly lifts his head from your chest, staring directly into your eyes, as if to read what you’re thinking — just like you are.

His pupils glint a bit less than usual, eyebrows calm yet sad — he blinks when the dryness burns, and then asks, “You’re trying to say something.”

It’s the same old; but people are different. You don’t know whether he wants to hear it. Sometimes, heartache demands distraction. Other times, sympathy and empathy; to just listen for a bit.

You want to give a healthy mixture of both without making him feel like you’re pitying him, because you’re not.

But you know Jungkook; even with you, he sometimes forgets that he’s thoroughly loved and rightfully so.

So you voice your sincere fondness still, “I am so sorry, Jungkook. And… I wish I could do more.”

His father said something similar on a later phone call today.

I wish I could do something about it. I’m sorry, Jungkook.

And—

Come over. We will talk and eat together.

Sorrow really brings people together, it seems.

He’d visit soon, Jungkook said. Needs some time alone, under the blanket, processing the truth for a bit until he can face actual conversations with people who witnessed the same individual for so many years.

“You might not believe me…” he starts, weaker again. His voice is barely a whisper; he’s so fatigued. “But I don’t expect more than this. You’re enough.” A little pause, and then. “I will also finally call a therapist… might be the right time. We were talking about it anyway.”

You were. You have been for a while. The promise to not let issues interfere with daily life anymore, to heal individually as well as together. So you nod right away, the first to support the idea.

“You have my back, Kook.”

“I know, angel.” He gulps. Close to cuddling back in, but you cradle his face, keep looking at him. He looks surprised for the tiniest moments, but his expressions relax quickly; followed by a question, “And you?”

And you?

You don’t know. You want to lean into his suggestion, but you’re still afraid. Fearful of what you might dig out of the depths of your heart through conversing with the therapist alone.

You’ll do it, pinky promise, but…

“I’ll still wait just a little,” you admit, and he nods, accepts it. “Besides… I want to support you first. Just a bit longer. Then I’ll go. Cross my heart.”

“Good… okay. Whatever you think is right, okay? I’m here, too.”

So typical. An anchor, no matter the turmoil in his own chest.

“I love you. I really do,” you tell him, obliterating any chance for him to respond just yet.

Instead, you pull him. Look at him, misty eyed, and press a tiny peck to his dry lips. He sniffs, parting his mouth and asks, “What was this for?”

And perhaps he’s anticipating your answer, head tilting to the side, another small glitter flickering when you tell him, “I felt like it. Could do it all day.”

And it works — even if for a fragment of a second. The smile appears, but it never really creeps up far enough to his eyes.

You guess that’s what happens when somebody’s soul keeps falling in love and then loses what it loved.

Sometimes, a busy mind is an oblivious mind.

Not that Jungkook ever forgets as the hours of the day pass, but at least work will keep him briefly occupied for now. Motivation wanes when the focus resides elsewhere, of course, so it isn’t super ideal that he was hit by the news at such an important time.

Then again, working isn’t too bad either. It distracts him.

And Namjoon, no matter how well he usually matches somebody’s energy, will do him some good, too. Will cheer him up, push some courage and artistic inspiration into him.

The upcoming trip, the one that will leave you alone in the empty apartment for a bit, is fast approaching, though still a while after the gallery event. But Jungkook and Namjoon are already discussing details, settling on spots that might ignite some painter’s fires in them.

Namjoon said this is all about getting Jungkook to a place that can evoke colours he doesn’t even know, arouse a side of his talent that might help him later on; if — no, when — he rises to the top.

And since you’re done with your meetings today, most chores taken care of for the soon-to-come launch, you allow yourself an afternoon off and meet up with your best friend.

The group has already been back for quite some time, and while you’ve gathered some intel on the latest, downhill occurrences, you want to be there properly.

This is what you know: Apparently, soon after the two of you left, the conversations got heated, and eventually, as the distress reached its peak, Taehyung and Eun broke up. Ever since, they have been coping — or however well their hearts permit.

You regret your absence the moment Eun opens the door. You were attempting your best to juggle work and the emotional burdens of every hour, bringing solace to Jungkook and finding a moment to meet Eun for an extended period of time.

Eun has been holing up in here for all these days the way you did back in the summer. You are somewhat the worst friend; especially when her quiet voice welcomes you in, her hug not as tight as usual, the bubbly girl even physically worse.

Dark undereyes. Sad and distant gaze. Half a smile, as if fearing that you’re pouring all your sympathy into her, pitying her. She doesn’t enjoy this type of attention, but she also knows that you’re you and that this level of care can’t be changed.

Pity? No. Sympathy? You’d lose part of yourself if that one was lacking.

“I missed you…” you start as you sit down, waiting for her to join as she places a glass of water in front of you. You shift, unsure where to start. “Eun—”

But she’s quick to interrupt, “Listen, I… I know I’m supposed to talk about this.” She’s barely looking at you. “But I’ve thought about it over and over again and I don’t even know what to say anymore.” Shake of her head. “None of us is at fault. I can’t even be mad at him.”

“No… I wanted to say that, too. And that means you’re just as little at fault.”

You wait — because whenever words fail, stuttering and hesitating, wheels whirring in a fragile mind… that’s when even more tumbles out a moment later. And your instincts prove true.

She begins, “But…” Waits; and then spills, “We still fought the way we did and then, when the vacation was over… he was crying and I was, too, and we just felt so fucking sorry the entire time—”

Her voice is already shaking and breaking. She must have practiced this a hundred times in her head, but no preparation is ever enough to keep the affliction inside. It always pours, like rain, inhabiting a story in each drop.

Everyone who has ever loved might understand.

You give her some time as she attempts to hold it together in the middle of her lively and bright living room — but then you place a hand on her knee, assuring that there’s no need for restraint. So she pulls in a trembling breath, eyes so watery that they keep overflowing.

It reminds you so much of him days before.

The tears leave her in streams, collecting abundantly. And her nose reddens; your heart drops. Eun is the last person to ever deserve heartache of such calibre.

She cries until her face grows hot, cries until the sounds echo painfully. You hold her to your heart, trying to piece hers together for a bit, so aware that the one able to do this isn’t in the room with you right now. Rather trying to mend his own.

It’s already bad as it is, and you nearly wish he could spawn in here, tell her he’ll reconsider, make her happy as he’s supposed to. Of course it’s counterproductive; but how could higher powers even split these two in the first place?

It’s brutal.

And it’s worse, much meaner, thinking of the world as a vile place when her blurred speech inquires, “How d-di… how did you cope… when Jungkook and you broke up?”

You don’t quite know what to say. You don’t know because there’s hardly any advice to give. You were a mess. Which is what you honestly admit, “I barely did. You saw me — but you helped make it easier.” You put a cheek to her head. “So I’m here, too.”

“I know. I know… it’s just—” The next breath is sharp, the kind where it hitches and the sounds become high-pitched, mixing with hints of panic and pure sadness. “It’s kind of worse that he didn’t do any— anything wrong.”

She moves her head to and fro again against your chest, furious, “I can’t even rely on anger or just— do my best to hate him because none of us did anything to actually hurt the other.”

Her voice, usually so composed, gains on volume with each word. Probably a way to keep herself from whispering; to keep her sentences from breaking.

“This doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” you tell her, “it can serve as hope, too, you know? That not everybody is just shitty, and that there’s somebody who’s as great as him with the things you want, too.”

“But I want him.”

“Oh… babe…”

It’s this childlike yearning, the burning ache that hurts the most. You know what it feels like and you know there’s no easy way to overcome it, regardless of who one’s surrounded by. Naturally, she feels that way; you wish it had come differently.

She speaks on, “I should’ve known! That man isn’t just good with kids because he’s a social butterfly!” There’s some of the anger she spoke of; somehow, it stabilises her voice. “I should’ve known that he wants his own some day, too. Men, they usually do and it’s just me being so—”

“No,” you immediately react. “You are not wrong or anything at all for not wanting them. Even I…”

You pause. Actually, you don’t really know. You realise that you and Jungkook never got around to breaching this subject, despite cracking occasional jokes about it. You do remember how giddy you felt during the slippery soccer game…

“It’s just that,” you opt for instead, “it’s not so easy to think about and even worse to talk about.”

“And of course it’s easier for men. They don’t know what it feels like. The fear of pain and committing for the rest of our lives and never knowing how a husband might change…”

She’s letting it all out; maybe she needs to. Maybe she hasn’t been able to do so until now. You wonder how much she has said to Jimin so far. He might understand the two of you better than anyone else, having known you all your life, but… he’s still a guy, after all.

“What did he say when you told him? Tae?” you wonder, trying to come up with your own ideas. As far as you understand Taehyung, you don’t reckon he ever responded with anything too insensitive. “Did he dismiss your feelings?”

And you’re right. Because—

“No!” Her body moves to upright itself. “The bastard was perfectly nice. I can’t even hate him!” she exclaims again, majorly upset. “He said he accepts it, but it might become hard to stay because he really fucking wants them.”

You can almost hear the speech marks. And then, you also hear the absolute drop in volume as she sighs; tells you, “He asked about adoption…”

“…Shit.” The word comes out as barely anything. You hush it to yourself. “And?”

“I said that I just dunno if I’ll ever be able to live or enjoy such a life… that it’s not just about the physical pain… that just—”

She doesn’t speak on. So you add, “That’s okay. That’s seriously okay.”

It becomes quiet in the room. You take a look around. See the curtains, neatly bound in the middle, red ribbon around white sheer drapes. And you see the decorations, the pretty flowers, the lunch on the stove.

Eun does everything so thoroughly in her life. She’s always been calm and organised and a role model for anyone ready to dare a fresh approach to everything. She’s unique, your friend, a sarcastic but warm ray of light.

She doesn’t deserve to cry. It’s ridiculous.

Doesn’t deserve it how frail she sounds when she says, more to herself than to you, “I want him in my life so bad. He’s the one guy for me.”

The phase of pure hope. Denying that it’s over, that he’ll appear here in the morning, that a miracle will make the issues go away.

But… it did happen for you. So you try, very carefully, “He might find his way back to you. Sometimes love endures.”

“And sometimes it doesn’t.”

“I know, but… Either way… you will be okay,” you say. Eun hopes, yes, but that doesn’t always go hand in hand with optimism. You need to give her space, give her time; find a balance between the things she wants to hear and what’s realistic. “With or without him, you will be okay. In the worst case, I’m here. I told you.”

It’s an attempt at a joke, and you seem to succeed, bringing out the lightest chuckle and a sniffle before she jests, too, “With or without Jungkook?”

You laugh. “You were the first love of my life. We’ll get there somehow.”

The faint twinkle in her eyes lifts your spirits, urges you closer to her. Your palm rubs her right arm, providing warmth to eliminate some of the frost in her heart. Then again, maybe you’re wrong — post-break up haze creates unpleasant heat after all.

The hot cheeks from made up scenarios and the jealousy that follows; the knot in the stomach that the pining calls forth; the tightness in your chest, breathing soon a myth.

No, she needs another type of warmth — one you can offer with the cold only.

So you get up to scour her fridge, humming on your way to the kitchen island as you say, “You never run out of ice cream, do you? You keep it stored the way others store potatoes.” You hear a weak, lovely laugh. Bend down to the freezer. “Coming in handy now.”

“Clichée remedy, huh?”

“Gotta be clichée for a reason,” you tell her before you plop down with the box and two spoons, taking off the lid to scoop directly from it. Vanilla and strawberry. “Here.”

You hand her one spoon, and she inspects her reflection for a while, as if she’s seeing it for the first time in a while. The utensil seems odd to her, like a new invention — but when she snaps back into her body and shovels in just lightly, you recognise the stare.

Because she looks just as you felt. When every mundane and basic daily achievement appeared like an uninvited stranger; or a chore to get done with, a challenge to survive.

She has something to say; you recognise it in the gulp and the clearing of her throat. Steadying her voice, giving herself a moment for the vanilla to cool her down.

Then, in a now gentle but defeated tone, she recollects, “It was… really weird. We broke up in the middle of everything and then spent the rest of the time there just— fighting and making up. Out of the bed and… back into bed.”

You don’t down your own bite yet; the sugar needs to awaken her happy dessert hormones first. Instead, you ask, “Have you heard from him ever since?”

She pokes the still somewhat solid ice cream, slowly melting. “No… Just whatever Jimin tells me.” She shrugs a shoulder. “Which, apparently, isn’t much either, though. And I hate myself for being this way, but not knowing what he’s doing and where he is drives me nuts.”

“I know what you mean,” you say, eyes following the spoon brought to her mouth and then back to the box. You’re just glad she’s eating at all; you understand that appetite is scarce when the tummy is already filled with dread and hurt. So you speak up again, “Hey. Come over for dinner sometime?”

Eun hesitates. Not the obvious type of rejection, but rather a weighing of options, thinking ahead, evaluating her emotions and what she’s able to withstand on days like these.

You already know what the issue might be before she says it; you realise it too late, but you guess you’d feel the same if you were her.

“I will,” she starts, fillers taking over the silence. “Uh… Well, once I’m able to look at Jungkook again without thinking of… him.”

“…I get it.”

“Which makes me feel horrible. I would love to offer him some comfort, too. He texted a few days ago, you know?”

You do.

As you strolled the aisles of the nearby market, he mentioned it for a second, summarising the already compact yet sweet message inhibiting his support. He was going to pick up some peanut-chocolate snack for her, too, but you reminded him of her allergy.

The chocolate-covered popcorn that is sitting on the table in front of you instead is the substitute that he chose a minute later; but you won’t tell Eun that. She already feels a plethora of negative emotions, guilt not being the last of them.

It’s already obvious when she asks slowly, “I meant to ask… How is he?”

Well, since you’re being honest.

You chew at the inside of your cheek, thoughts wandering to the man who’s trying his best to keep himself together. Smiles at your jokes and jests back, teases you a little to fabricate an illusion of wellbeing.

But you’re not stupid; you’ve grown to understand his inner workings, so you admit, “Not too well either. This took him out a lot more than I would’ve guessed.” You breathe out, deflating a bit. “It hurts to see. He’s living and all, almost his usual self, but. Doesn’t feel the same yet.”

“Mmh. So when I come over,” she says, spoon falling to her lap; perhaps the actual hunger is coming back in pieces at least, “we’ll just grieve our losses together, I guess.”

You nod, light pats to her knee, promising that, “It will stop hurting. For sure.”

But you don’t know.

No. Undoubtedly, pain always lessens, even when it doesn’t fade. Memories ensure a fraction of whatever stays back.

But… none of this will stop now.

You are aware of it, considering the moments these two shared, no matter how little time passed ever since they grew the way they did. And, considering each second you analyse Jungkook’s face, realising that he, too — the ball of sunshine — will experience rain for a bit longer.

No pain will subside just yet.

You saw it in the way his face dried up the last few days. How he remembers more and more of him. And how your eyes got stuck on a piece of paper just this morning, laying on top of a sketchbook and underneath a frequently used graphite pencil.

It was a drawing; Gureum sticking out his tongue, staring at whoever stared back at him. Only a couple strokes of lines and curves, but so insanely real, too.

For a bit, you couldn’t remember where you’d seen these very elements before, in just this order and shades, but then, as the day passed, you saw it in your mind, just in front of you.

A little photograph of Gureum, secured in Jungkook’s wallet for as long as you’ve known.

Never talked about it much. Never paid much attention to it at all.

But now, you keep thinking about it. Maybe less because of how cute you found it, or because of the fact that Jungkook is able to love this much.

More because the pain of losing somebody really is striking — because an essence remains in a photograph forever, affection stored in it, deeming something or somebody eternal.

That’s probably why human beings feel nostalgic about them. Why the concept was invented at all.

Because even when the fear of forgetting lingers — once a moment is immortalised, one never truly ever does.

Jungkook’s fingertaps synchronise with the ticking of the clock, like a pendulum, when you let him in on recent events. All with Eun’s permission, of course.

You’re surprised Tae didn’t open up to him about it much yet; perhaps there’s something about the rumour that girls feed and boys eat information. Or maybe he’s caught in his own emotions, dealing with them alone — it’s all fresh, after all.

Jungkook was the same — he dodged his friends back during the summer while you divulged your mind to Eun.

“I should call him,” Jungkook says. “It’s a bit selfish of me not to.”

He shakes his head a little, embarrassed, and you know why. Taehyung phoned him just yesterday, hearing of the current situation, speaking out his condolences. He didn’t mention Eun even once.

But you can’t blame Jungkook. He’s grieving in his own way, and you’re overly certain he won’t neglect Taehyung for his own misery for longer than his heart can bear. It’s okay to seek time alone in moments like these — it’s true for both.

“You can do it tomorrow if you want,” you tell him, bringing a hand to the nape of his neck to rub. “But don’t strain your brain.”

“No, no.” He leans back on the bed — he’s been spending most of his free time here now — and stares at his darkened phone. “I’ll call at noon.”

The phone falls to the side as he tilts his head and kisses his lips, and then, he adds, “It doesn’t sound right. Them breaking up.”

Certainly, it doesn’t. You saw them during the holidays; saw the invisible bond forming. But then, as you left, you saw something break, too.

“I know,” you agree, repeating Eun’s words, “and it’s hard to intervene or give advice because neither of them is wrong.”

“Mmh… and neither should be pushed to believe otherwise if they know they’ll stick to their perspective.”

“Yeah. I mean. I don’t think either of them tried to convince the other. Which probably hurts more — having to accept a choice while still being in love.” You push out a stuck breath. “It’s just unfair. I might sound crazy, but I still keep hoping they’ll find back to each other.”

“Nah, it’s not crazy. That’d be how it’s supposed to be. But I dunno.” He shrugs a shoulder, less hopeful than you. Makes sense. You don’t understand Taehyung as well as he does. “I’ve always known that Tae wants to be a parent someday.”

“And I’ve always known Eun doesn’t want it.”

“Some dilemmas are just cruel.”

He lets the ticking clock burn some more seconds, accompanied by quiet sounds of the passing cars down the street. You know he’s contemplating something when he stops blinking, and you’re about to ask when he beats you to it, “What about you?”

“About me? What, having kids one day?”

“Mmhm.”

“Hmmm,” you replicate.

You’ve thought about this, so it’s not like you don’t have an answer to it.

It’s just that it barely even satisfies you — you’re not quite sure how Jungkook will digest it. You remember when you locked yourself into Eun’s bathroom, terrified of his reaction and of the two lines appearing on the test.

But he was supportive. And you think he’d want this with you at some point; if you were honest, the times that you painted such pictures as you mused on a possible future, you didn’t hate the thought.

“Honestly?” you start, shifting. “I grew up not wanting to be a mother. I saw the void at home and how dark everything felt the moment I was alone. And… I didn’t want to do this to someone, too.”

Typical fear of adopting abusive behaviour and becoming the culprit.

Jungkook’s hand floats to your knee, brushing over it with warmth, “Why did you think you would?”

“Because sometimes, we forward trauma instead of processing it and learning from it.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard of that.”

“But sometimes,” you sigh, mentally switching from left to right, “I catch myself imagining what I’d be like nevertheless. And then I think I’ll want it one day. I really don’t know.” Your eyebrows twitch to kiss. “It’s scary. Talking to Eun scared me ‘cause I don’t want the same thing to happen to us.”

“It won’t.”

Short and precise. Determined and convinced.

Two words alone often suffice; you’re lucky, sharing a space with somebody who communicates with you on the same wavelength. It’s rare, this kind of understanding and love.

You feel instantly relieved.

Yet, you make sure, “It’s just because I know you want this.”

“I want you more. And,” he pauses, tongues his cheek, collects his thoughts to form the sentence, “really, if we settle on either decision while staying together in the process, I’m fine.”

The creases on your forehead deepen. As you said, lucky. But you never expected this level of purity; maybe Jungkook is written by an actual supreme being and you’re met with its manifestation.

Or really, maybe he jumped out of a 3D printer.

You ask, “You’d give up such a thing for me?”

“Like… I won’t lie, I’ve always wanted this. But… it’s your decision.”

See? This is why you deem yourself to be at just the right place in your life, so ecstatic that your heart knew to trust him, to trust this, and to not withdraw when you were hurting.

Your voice lowers, “Is it?”

“You’d be the one hurting,” he says, so matter-of-factly, not to sound smart or feminist. “I’m not going to leave because you decide to avoid pain.”

You chuckle, joyful and bright amidst the colourless days. “Yet, I might decide to go for it anyway.”

“Then I’ll definitely accept it, as well.”

He’s laughing again. It hasn’t been more than a couple days, but he’s never topped this period of time without genuinely laughing before. It’s a tender sound, and authentic, even though it’s still weaker than you are used to.

Obviously it is.

Jungkook is a deep empath; overanalyses and overthinks and overfeels. This day was bound to happen at some point and his heart was bound to break like this.

Some things in life are inevitable after all.

“I love you,” you tell him, a cheek falling onto his shoulder. You close your eyes for a moment, hear his serene breathing. “I’m not letting someone like you go anyway, so just… don’t leave.”

You’re attempting a joke, easing the moment with something as sugary as can get. But it barely takes him a heartbeat to respond, “I was thinking the same about you.”

“Oh… no—”

“It’s just even scarier now, you know, losing people I love.”

Your immediate reaction is speechlessness. You want to let his truth sink into the room, so you can bubble wrap it; just so he knows he’s safe and sound and that his fright, while still present, will crawl beneath the comfort you provide.

One day, he might not see it anymore. He might not dread such an outcome anymore.

“Sometimes these things are out of our control,” you tell him, “but I think some people are capable of promising to stay and actually do so, too.”

“You too?”

You look at him wordlessly, let your eyes speak. Smile at him, take his hand into yours. You don’t think you need to say much and that he understands; and he doesn’t pose a follow-up-question, so you assume you’re right.

Because he squeezes your hand, tells you he’s okay when you ask how he’s doing. Falls into easier and more casual conversation with you, one that allows less heart and mind and more lightness and relief.

As minutes pass, the atmosphere enlivens just a little, enough for you to hope. But maybe, you think, it tires him out, too. Because when you suggest watching a movie to kill the hours until it’s bedtime, he rejects your suggestion; instead, he declares, “I’ll lay down a bit, I think.”

So he does. With a tiny groan and a heavy body falling into soft feathers. And you still sit at your spot.

Watch him fall into a slumber quickly, much until his breathing evens out, peaceful and quiet. Blurry so far, your eyes clear when you, once again, detect the messy desk and the same drawing of Gureum on top of it.

It somehow stands out in the chaotic stack, like an intense presence blending out everything else.

The face on there, the lines and the inspiration behind them feel like a ghost, smiling at you; one he’s desperately carving into his mind, etching it into his memory — how he sounded, how he barked, how he whimpered.

An utter proof for the adoration one holds, beyond a lifetime, reserved even in the absence of a loved one. And these ghosts remain, whether somebody left your realm or just brought in a distance, alive but breathing from afar.

You know, because you recall how much Jungkook haunted you when he stole pieces of you and disappeared from your life for weeks. When he’d return in dreams and thoughts and fears, but never in person.

You couldn’t hear him and couldn’t see him — but somehow, somewhat, he was still always there.

In hindsight, you knew you loved him back then, too. Of course you did; the moment one questions their own feelings, it’s already over, isn’t it? If you had to wonder whether you were in love with him, hadn’t you already lost?

Affection contains such intensity, anyway; an ache stuck in a heart like claws and a breathlessness that doesn’t ever drain your lungs when you’re not in trouble already.

How insane.

Truly, denial often only remains for a moment and turns into transparency very soon. Today, you know with utmost certainty that you loved him.

But that’s exactly why this hurts so fucking much, looking at him.

Locking into his puffy cheeks, the strand of his hair covering half his eyebrow and sticking to the corner of his eye. He always looks so much younger like this. You wipe the hair back; he doesn’t move. Still slightly turned away from you, mouth a little ajar.

So you keep going.

You look at the wall in front of you, hands busy grazing his dark tresses. One of his arms and its fist lay on the pillow beneath his head, the other under the blanket, probably pressed to his heart.

It’s a human way of pushing against the unease.

When your thumb ghosts along his skin, over the apple of his cheek, he does stir. Not too much, only letting out a small puff of air before he turns under the sheets with his eyes still shut — and he stretches out his right arm to drape it around your hips.

You lift your arms a little to give him the space, and he seems to try to adjust until his sleepy brain decides that you are sitting too upright, your hips too high for his arm. But this doesn’t deter him; he doesn’t pull back but lowers his limb to your lap, just above your thigh.

It’s an interesting play, how a drowsy, unconscious mind still registers so much of its surroundings or its emotions. How he’s still acting and reacting according to the life he lives.

And you keep staring. It reassures you somehow. Fills you with soothing consolation.

And he feels the same, you reckon. Because in the middle of it all, he sighs.

Hm…

In a dry desert that exhausts his heart and body with each of its terribly draining attributes, you so proudly feel like his oasis.

Your eyes water, but you breathe in, keep it inside.

You gulp, tugging at the blanket a little to cover the rest of his and your legs; then, you relocate, sliding down on the mattress bit by bit, carefully.

It takes you a matter of seconds until you hear a faint protest, “Mmh, no…” and you hurry to utter an immediate, “I’m still here. All good.”

He relaxes. For a moment, you see his eyelids crack open a slit, and move further with a light smile until you’re lying next to him, forehead at the height of his mouth. You feel the hot breath when he lets out another one of solace.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you add, “just wanted to lay down, too.”

He nods, but barely. Your hand glides over his chest and then slowly rounds his torso, back to his shoulder blades. You want to hold him as close as possible and want to wait with an ear to his cotton shirt until his heartbeat winds down.

It’s warm in this room and under the blanket; the fall outside does nothing for you. But you don’t move.

Jungkook buries his lips in your hair. He’s vulnerable; possibly more than you ever experienced him to be in front of his father, or even without you. Those were different kinds of stitches tearing open.

Right now, he’s scared.

This is the main finding for you at this time — it feels like nothing is happening, but in this silence, his mind is crowded.

Jungkook knows very well that you won’t leave; but he also thought Gureum never would. Just like you, you imagine, he has realised several different ways to lose somebody, and it probably terrifies him.

He’ll swarm around you more often now, you know.

Minutes pass and his eyes shut again, but you know he’s awake. More so when he sniffles; doesn’t cry, but still strays a bit from his peace.

You’re groggy when you open your eyes, too, whispering a, “Jungkook…” as you take in his somewhat asleep, somewhat awake state. He’s aware that you’re here, knows where he is, but his brain is foggy, too.

His words, despite all, however, are still clear as day when he reluctantly, quietly says, “This sucks.”

“I know…”

Another break, another sniffle. Then—

“I love you.”

And that’s it.

You answer, but it drowns in his repeated sniffles, eyes and cheek dry when soon against your scalp. But the actual torment under his chest is more than evident in how he holds you.

You can’t help but revert to more promises, no matter how unoriginal they might be. Is that important as long as you mean them, anyway?

So you mutter, “I will always come home to you.”

Jungkook doesn’t nod. He doesn’t answer. Only presses against the small of your back and then moves his palm to the middle of it, keeps it there at last. He doesn’t need to speak his thoughts anyway, as little as you needed to before.

Your presence is enough. You will never become a ghost.

Talking to his parents and his brother in the past weeks helped immensely.

Somehow, the conversations killed pieces of Jungkook’s denial; and somehow, the revelation of the one he’s been hoping to return to actually being gone, led to a sense of acceptance. Easier to… well, perhaps not move on.

But easier to cope.

To realise that life needs to go on and that this way, dwelling on the past or reliving moments won’t hurt anymore one day.

And working towards his life goals didn’t hurt either. The fair is coming closer, and so is the gallery showing. He’s been working hard; and life is normalising.

You’re back to teasing and fighting and pouting and making up.

It’s nice to see.

When Jungkook comes back home from another day at his parents’, the apartment is empty. The silence is surprising, given the fact that you weren’t supposed to be absent for so long. As far as he was concerned, you were going to greet him when he came back, already here.

And he certainly returned later than he thought he would.

As he slips his shoes off and places them neatly on the side, he calls out your name to double check. Maybe you’re asleep. But you don’t respond; you’re a light sleeper. And on further inspection, he soon detects that the bedroom is vacant.

Jungkook fishes out his phone and dials immediately; you’re already on top of the list, so the five seconds save him some headache. And you picking up nearly instantly only adds to that relief.

“Hey! You home?” your voice chimes, and he relaxes, exhales, falling onto the edge of the bed weightlessly.

A hand dangles between his legs, arm propped up on his thigh, and he asks, “Where are you? I would’ve picked you up if I’d known you’re still out.”

“No, no, it’s okay. I wasn’t too far.”

“Where was that?”

You groan on the other side of the line, as if heaving something of significant weight, your breathing a tiny bit stagnant. He prods, “Are you okay? I can come help if you’re nearby.”

“No, I was just out, doing some shopping.”

“Sure? It’s cold as hell, too.”

“Yes, baby. I’m a big girl, I promise,” you chuckle into the phone and he joins in, nodding without you seeing, “but I’ll talk to you when I’m there. I want to show off my haul a bit.”

“Ah. Thought you hated surprises.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

The grin emerging on his face feels good. Feels freeing. You have an undeniable effect on him and he couldn’t be more enticed by its mystery.

“Alright. I’ll wait then,” he says, and you agree quickly, muttering goodbyes before the call cuts.

Hm. Okay.

Maybe he should take a shower in the meantime, prepare the ingredients for tonight’s dinner. What was it again you wanted to eat today? Risotto? Lasagna? You wanted either in some of the upcoming days. Italian, that’s for sure.

“Both not easy,” he comments to himself, snickering quietly; who would he be if he didn’t yield to your every wish?

The shirt flies into the laundry basket, the water under the showerhead warm and comforting compared to the dropping temperatures outside. It was raining again; while it has stopped, the wind still whipped his face — so you better hurry back to him carefully.

He hears the door open and fall back into its lock as he washes off the last of his shampoo, a hand sliding across his face, down to his neck and his chest. You don’t exclaim his name or announce your arrival the way you usually do.

Suspect, but probably nothing bad.

It’s okay. He’ll do it instead.

And you answer just as casually when he does. More cheerful than ever even, giving back a, “Take your time! I’m here.”

You’re a handful some days when you scare him like this, especially at such times that his mind makes up scenarios constantly.

Your absence can be mind-numbing — and since meetings often exceed the time you promised and the phone ringing is incredibly unprofessional, he does worry a little too frequently.

It’s not your fault, either.

Usually, you do exploit your position as the manager, allowing yourself a moment to message him back or let him know when you’ll be home. But sometimes you’re… gone, like this. And he hates the feeling he once lived through when you disappeared for so long, hiding at Eun’s.

“Seriously,” he starts as you meet him at the threshold to the bathroom, pushing him back inside, “will I ever not worry sick about you?”

“Sorry,” you begin frivolously, moving into him instead, reaching for his lips, “I got caught up with stuff, but…” Another peck, a hand still on his damp chest. “I’m here now.”

Jungkook isn’t too sure whatever came to possess you in these very hours between the morning and now, but he’s not opposed to it. He revels in the touch of your palm grazing his skin, down to the belly button, lightly tugging at the towel as a tease.

“Woman,” he whispers between kisses, the words growing quieter, “you’ll drive me crazy one day.” His hands come up to cradle your face, to look at you. “You scare me and then you come home to do this.”

“Mmmh, I guess so.”

You let him kiss you, let him open your mouth and push the tongue through — but the temptation doesn’t last long. Because he notices your hesitation, not because you’re unsure but rather… something else.

You want to say something. So he lets you.

“What is it?” he wonders.

“Just exasperated. Just want to show you what I shopped.”

Right. You said that already. You stepped into the apartment, dizzying his head so badly that he almost forgot.

“You have a weird way of showing that you’re tired,” Jungkook remarks, the last word dying as you push a hand beneath the towel, squeezing his ass just a little before backing away. “Honestly, babe.”

“Yes, honestly… come.”

Mysterious, this behaviour of yours. You’ve brought home stuff you needed or wanted several times, but you never seemed as enlivened by it as you do now. And you certainly never made much of a secret out of it as you are now.

And it’s not hard to guess why.

If it was a small object or a dress or a book or a plushie stuffed in one of these environment-friendly paper bags, he might not have noticed right away. But…

But what you decided to march back with today is an entirely different level of unexpected riddle. Or at least, a riddle until its eyes meet with Jungkook’s.

They’re…

They’re round and expressive. Curious and a little shy. Carry the same innocence and dark, serene night in them as Jungkook does. And the— the puppy is blinking slowly, eyes flopping a tiny bit; lets his head fall to the side for a second.

He’s so small. Alert yet gentle. A careful, dark brown Doberman watching a half naked Jungkook with peculiar interest.

Then to you, already a little used to you, and then back to some random spot again.

Maybe he’s taking in his new home. Maybe he’s trying to understand his surroundings. Probably not yet falling in love as quickly and furiously as Jungkook already is.

Certainly not having the same liquid collecting in his eyes as in his owner’s.

What did you…

Is this yours? His? Taken in to babysit? What—

You stand on the side, hands folded, waiting with your lower lip trapped with your teeth. You’re giving him a moment with the pup, Jungkook knows, removing yourself from the equation to permit the love to unfold.

But how could he ditch you anyway? How, when right now, he could crush you in his arms?

A month has passed since Gureum left. Life went on, but moments of yearning always returned — you saw it all in his eyes. The realisation that Gureum would never come back, and that nobody could replace him.

And of course you know; this right here — you aren’t trying to replace Gureum, but trying to bring new happiness and a new start into Jungkook’s life.

He mentioned this once or twice over the weeks, casually stating how he urged to love someone the way he loved his childhood companion. You put his wish into motion so quickly.

If this moment is what he thinks it is, then he doesn’t know how to digest it for now. How to swallow the mix of longing and relief, of missing somebody and meeting someone new.

The Doberman is a symbol of healing and affection. Of how you care, and of how Jungkook will once again be able to adore the same as he used to. Still does.

“Babe?” he only calls.

There’s nothing more he can murmur right now anyway. What, a thank you? Crying in the middle of the room? Kissing his appreciation into you? None of it will suffice.

“Yes?” you respond.

“There’s…” His open palm lifts, a finger loosely pointing to the focus of his attention. “There’s a dog on our couch.”

You laugh with a tender heart. “Yes. There is.”

Should he move? He doesn’t dare to. Only wipes away the dark, wet curls off his temples. Looks for a bit; watches the still figure barely fill the dip in the cushions, as if he could vanish the moment Jungkook speaks.

You are a bundle of excitement next to him, and the little thing is unbothered, not even looking when Jungkook is teetering between disbelief and wonder.

And then… just slowly, cautiously, surely, he steps forward. Courageous once you say, “Yes, say hi.” A hand already reaches midair before it retreats; should he sit beside him or drop to his knees? Pick him up and place him on his lap?

“Where did you get him from?” Jungkook asks, voice still delicate. “How long did you plan this?”

He’s wondering about a lot of things. How you picked him out of all the dogs you saw. How you chose the absolute manifestation of sweet honey, ogling up to him now that Jungkook lets his fingers reach the soft fur along the back.

He chuckles, breathless and full. Tells the newest member of the household, “So cute. You’re so freaking cute—”

Then, he picks him up, secures him in his arms, a paw on his tatted skin as he gets used to the moment. Trying to understand who he belongs to.

You finally dare to step closer; the dog already recognises your scent a tiny bit, staring at you, paw reaching for your hand when you stretch it towards him.

With kind excitement, you answer Jungkook’s questions.

“So, I was searching for a bit and then… one or two weeks ago, I spoke to a colleague at work about someone she knew who was looking for people to adopt puppies. Gave me her number and all.”

You’re distracted for a moment, delighted when the pup nudges your hand for more pets.

“And… the lady she suggested was repeatedly gushing about his eyes and all before she gave him to me?” you say, the back of the hand brushing along his back. “And on my way back I kept looking at him and realised how right she was. They reminded me of yours.”

Jungkook laughs, and you shake your head with a beam of your own, telling him, “It’s true! They’re this dark brown and huge and round and… I dunno,” you lift your shoulders, pupils flying up to your boyfriend’s, “I’ve always said you have starry eyes.”

You have; the admission is never new, but always heartbeat-increasing.

To be compared with something as gorgeous and celestial as the night sky…

“…And so,” you continue, “I thought.” You cradle the puppy’s face, but this time he retreats, rather leaning into Jungkook’s arms now with a soft whimper. Already fond. You say—

“Bam.”

It’s a simple syllable. A soft, two-letter sound. But something clicks into place immediately.

Jungkook feels it unwind inside him, as if it makes sense, as if whatever is happening is just the right thing. Just fitting to his timeline and life. This is nice. This is lovely. Worth remembering.

The ache, the doubt, the weight that followed him all these days… it all lightens, just a little.

No, Jungkook will never replace Gureum. But he can try to be a family with another one of the world's true angels; remember who he once knew as Bam’s lost brother.

Bam…

Bam. Short but just right, isn’t it?

“Bam,” he repeats, blinking away the tears, “hi.” His chest rises when he breathes in. Falls when he says, “Is it weird to say that I feel like I love him already?”

Is it?

No… of course it isn’t. No emotion that ever emerges out of a gut feeling is ever weird, is it? All it ever is and remains is real. In which sense Jungkook doesn’t need to question his emotions; can trash the question whether the newfound adoration only feels like love.

And as you watch from the other side, you so bittersweetly realise that you were oh-so-right.

Because some things don’t have to be explained. They don’t have to be questioned at all. A lot of times, things just are.

And a lot of times, when one has to ask whether they are loving… they already are.

a little (late) tribute to real life gureum, mixed with all that happened and has been happening in their lives. i guess this truly is a slice of life thing that keeps on hurting, but keeps on giving, too. idk – at least that's how i felt as i wrote and edited it. i really love them so much, y'all :') also, this was supposed to be the original banner, but i discarded it bc it spoiled too much lmao:

how did you guys like it? it's been so long, i hope it didn't disappoint. i would definitely love to hear what you think – this is truly what keeps me and this lil series going!!.. would make my day!! so leave a like/reblog/talk to me pls <3 love you!!

#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #jeongguk smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts x you #bts imagines #jungkook fic #bts angst #jungkook angst #jungkook

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hongjoongscafe · 1 year ago

Text

Peach.

One-Shot.

Pairing: professor!jungkookxcamgirl!reader.

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, forbidden au, uni au.

Summary: where his lust and admiration fell for a camgirl.

Word count: 15.4k+

Warnings: age gap (oc: 21, JK: 30), masturbation… lots of masturbation, sort of online bullying(?), kind of public masturbation, toys, name-calling, sir/daddy, pussy eating, fingering, unprotected sex (Namjoon will bonk your head if you don't use a contraceptive), spanking, spitting kink, cum eating, choking, overstimulation, a little bit of degradation, pussy spanking. (and that anime-ish picture has nothing to do with the fiction. Imagine the characters however you want!)

Masterpost

“Oh fuck!” Jungkook's voice trembled as he palmed himself through his sweatpants. The thin shining layer of sweat made his face look sexier. His teeth were gritting and his eyes could barely focus on anything but the screen.

He had sworn to make himself wait until he could not wait anymore. He wanted to tease himself until he felt like bursting through his high. He wanted the pain of pleasure to run through his muscles and explode when it was too much to fill his body.

His ears were red from arousal and his veins were popping from lust.

He waited for a whole day to end just to tune into his favourite girl's livestream and tease himself as long as she teased herself.

Through his screen, he admired how her legs were wide open with a camera between them showing her gushing core. The livestream only started about five minutes ago. And he was already so ready to burst in his pants.

He was packing (giddily) to go back home after his day was over at the university to watch her, he was smiling widely. However, his smile dropped when he saw Mr Jameson (the director of the university) standing on the threshold of his office room.

“Mr Jeon, kindly visit conference hall 2 for a staff meeting in ten minutes.”

His lips frowned but nodded and sighed thinking that he probably wouldn't be able to make home soon enough to watch his MissPeach.

The meeting went longer as expected. It was nothing but about exchange students. Jungkook had ten exchange students in total and about three in each lecture he was assigned.

He made it home just in time. While he was juggling the key in the keyhole, he opened the stream and it was on its final countdown till the stream started. He sighed with relief and finally went inside and jumped on his bed, not bothering to turn on his lights. The burnt yellow guiding lights in the hallway and in his room were enough for him which turned on automatically when the sun kissed the ocean through his window and the night began to fall.

“Today, I thought I must not make you all wait,” Miss Peach's soft voice finally speaks. “So I’m going to skip teasing and just jump right into it,” she giggled when the chat went crazy with thank yous and asking for more or some who loved to get teased were upset but so ready to see.

Jungkook’s cock twitched after hearing her seductive yet innocent voice. She never showed her face but he knew she was smiling.

“I’m tired today, so I will use my sex machine instead. I hope it is alright,” she hummed.

Jungkook quickly tapped his screen with a frown of worry.

Bigdaddyj: Baby, it's alright. Relax and just let go, yeah? Don't worry<3 If someone has any problem, Daddy will handle —$200

The ping on Peach's side made her look at the chat. “Thank you, Daddy,” she chuckled. “You are always so generous.”

Jungkook could see her pussy throbbing as she said daddy. He bit his lip and saw a fake cock attached to a machine. Peach rubbed the lube all over it and aligned it with her pussy. She started it at a slow speed.

“Oh,” she gasped as it slowly started to push in. “This feels so good.”

He whimpered imagining his cock pushing into her pussy. Lowered his pants and pulled out his throbbing cock and squeezed the head, trying to feel how it would feel if he were that fake cock. His cock would look prettier and feel better than that thing. But at the same time, he wanted to suck that toy and lick all of her sweet juices, too.

“You fill me up so good,” she rasped. “Please fuck me,” Peach panted as she raised the power and the thrusts got faster and wetter.

“Fuck,” he couldn't control and gave in. His fist picked up the pace of the toy and looked at her pretty pussy swallowing the toy. Her sweet moans and whimpers only fueled his desire.

Not much later, he came all over himself, ruining his white shirt and black pants. But it was worth it.

“That was quick,” she giggled as she panted. Her pussy was red and swollen just how he loved it. “I hope you all came as well… tomorrow I was wondering if we could do qna type of thing? Not the usual stream but just something. I kinda wanna talk. I don't get to do that enough so…”

Jungkook was quick to reply.

Bigdaddyj: aw Peaches I would love to talk to you, baby girl. It will be fun. ^^ –$300

Reading the chat he sent, she hummed cosily. “You think so, daddy? I'm glad. I'll be seeing you all tomorrow then.”

With that, the stream ended and Jungkook slumped against the headrest.

Jungkook used to share a staff flat on campus with two other professors. It was going fine until he found MissPeach. Watching her was becoming a huge task with the other two men in that small flat. It was always obvious whenever he would jerk off.

On many occasions, his roommates would catch him after looking at his flushed face after one of his “sessions”. They said that his face could never hide the fact that he just jerked.

He started to wear makeup but it was frustrating and ended up moving out and eventually purchasing his own apartment off campus. It was rather convenient.

His obsession, however, grew ridiculously embarrassing. And having his own apartment helped him live it. Whenever MissPeach would go live, he would watch without caring about someone disturbing or making fun of him.

Sometimes he felt utterly embarrassed whenever he sat in front of his gigantic TV in his living room with a football game, his one hand holding his mobile with MissPeach's livestream on it and the other hand wrapped around his aching cock. He couldn't miss either.

It all worked out for him.

…

The next morning, Jungkook walked into his lecture hall dressed in a black shirt and black pants, his feet clad in the infamous black boots that made him look professional at the same time a character out of a dark romance book.

“Good morning, class. I hope you all had a long night. I have a job for you all,” he cleared his throat. “I'll be handing you guys a worksheet. You have this whole lecture which is sixty minutes. Take help from your sources and complete it. It's been one month and four more to go. So I want you all to revise what we did this month. I think there is no better way than this. What do we say? Do we agree?” he asked with his bubbly smile that he knew no one could resist.

The students agreed. Soon enough, everyone had two sets of five-page-long worksheets on their desks. In this specific batch, he taught biology. But he had chemistry as well.

You loved biology. And even more now because Jungkook was your professor. You were an exchange student and joined this semester.

On your first day, when he walked into the class, you were positive that he was one of the students but when he stood behind the teacher's desk and started his lecture, your jaw was barely holding up. He looked ripped and broad. The buttons on his shirt were fighting against the monstrosity of his chest. You swore you saw his nipples poke through his shirt at some point.

Even now, when you are sitting in your seat you can't help but look up and steal some glances towards him. He was sitting on his chair, reading something on his laptop with his glasses perched up.

You felt your pussy tingling. Since the first day, you have been masturbating to him. But your pussy just wanted his finger, mouth, and cock.

He never noticed you. You preferred to stay at the corner at the back and just exist. Socializing was not your forte. You had one too many insecurities to even say hi to someone. Even when some of the girls approached you for you to join them around, you always politely declined.

And the rest were not as nice. The thing was that you were a scholarship student at a private university. You barely afford to live. And the others barely kept money in their banks but still had too much money. They were everything you could never be and sometimes they took it as an advantage.

So you preferred to stay away and not get involved with anyone.

You were focusing on your worksheet when Jungkook’s chair screeched against the floor, looking up, you saw him slowly walking around and inspecting if someone needed help. So far, it was not bad. He had taught everything perfectly.

You focused back on your work. You could hear his footsteps. Here and there, the girls asked him some silly questions. You wanted to ask, too. But your confidence was a bit above -200.

So no, you weren't going to ask.

Soon enough, the musky scent invaded your senses as Jungkook was closer to you. He stood by you and looked at your work. You hid your hands under the desk to hide the trembling. It was the first time that you saw him up close. He never took a round, most probably because it was never needed. On the other hand, there weren't any emergencies or something that would make you knock on his office door.

Your eyes met with his as he asked “Miss Park, do you need any help?”

You shook your head, not trusting your voice.

“As expected,” he smiled. He fucking smiled at you. You bit back a silly smile, cleared your throat and looked down.

He moved along and you finally took a breath. He is rather enchanting and you just couldn't rebel.

How could you? That big Professor was a god himself.

“After you are done, you can hand your sheets to me and leave,” he said and took his seat.

You had completed the worksheet about twenty minutes earlier but there was no way you were going to get up and attract any attention. So you started to go through Chemistry.

Chemistry was not your best subject but it meant another hour in Jungkook’s class.

Your concentration enveloped you and made you lose the passage of time. You slightly flinched as Jungkook called your name.

“Miss Park, it has been ten minutes since the lecture got over. You can take the worksheet home if you want and submit it tomorrow if you are finding it hard. Or I can help if you want,” Jungkook offered.

You looked around the empty class and back at your professor. “Ah,” you nervously chuckled and started collecting your stuff. “It is all done,” you said in a small voice and finally gathered everything.

You walked towards him and handed him the sheets. Awkwardly, you bowed and stepped away. However, Jungkook stopped you.

“Miss Park, please write your name and ID number over here, please,” he smiled… again.

You could feel your ears heating up with embarrassment. “Sorry,” you whispered.

“It’s alright!” as you were writing your name and ID number on your sheets, Jungkook took notice of your hands. They looked familiar. Way too familiar.

The images of his MissPeach flashed in front of his eyes. That glistening, pink pussy. His cock twitched in his pants. He shook his head to get the images out. “There are many similar hands, JK!” He scolded himself.

“How are you keeping up, here?” Jungkook asked to distract himself.

You slid the now-named sheets back to him. “Um, it's nice here.”

Jungkook’s eyes twitched at the familiarity of your voice as well. “That’s good. If you ever have any problem, you can come to me. We have two classes so feel free to reach out. You are already so far away from your home so don’t hesitate to ask for help.”

You looked him in the eyes and smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.” with that, you finally left with a racing heart and wet panties.

Jungkook looked at the closed door. “Ah, I should stop watching her. She is messing up my brain. Y/n can't be her. She is too innocent for that… right?”

But who was he kidding, he was obsessed with MissPeach.

You felt embarrassed when you walked out. His mere smile and thick voice made your pussy clench around nothing and your panties wet. You could feel the wetness on your thighs.

He had an effect on you more than your body could handle without making you feel like his whore.

But you knew he would never look at you the way you wanted him to. To begin with, you were his student and if there was any chance that he would get involved with one, that certainly wouldn't be you.

There were many painfully beautiful girls around you who had maintained themselves like Queens. They had proper skin care, a pretty makeup routine before they came to university and a relaxing night routine. Whereas you, you splashed your face with water and soap and slapped basic cheap face cream on your face.

Most of your money from your “job” was sent to your parents and for your apartment rent. And not to mention, that where you came for an exchange programme, even farting costs money.

Sighing, you walked through the crowd of students and looked around. Everyone was busy with their stuff. In the canteen, groups of friends were sitting and enjoying the food. You brought your own meal but today you were running late and packed nothing. So you walked towards the cheapest of the options, a vending machine.

You bought some rice balls and a can of Sprite. Quickly, you left the canteen and sat on the empty staircase which rarely anyone visited which led to the abandoned old green room.

It didn't take time for you to finish your food. The thought of your hot, ripped professor was still fogging up your mind and probably the sane side of your brain, too. And the more it did, the more your panties became wet.

The image of his beautiful long fingers teased you. You wondered how his tattooed fingers would look while playing with your pussy. Oh, you just wanted just that.

His lip ring was the end of you. You wanted to sit on his face and feel the piercing over your pussy. You always paid attention to when he played with his lip ring with his tongue and just wanted to know how it would feel teasing your clit.

You couldn't take it anymore so you opened the secret pocket of your bad and took out a tiny bullet vibrator that you carried after realizing that Mr Jeon was a sexy man that you just wanted fuck.

Looking around the empty staircase and hallway above, you opened the button of your pants and slipped your hand inside your panties. You positioned the toy over your clit and buttoned up your pants back on.

From your mobile, you turned it on. The low vibrations of the toy shivered you up. You closed your eyes and rested your head against the railing, slowly turning up the power.

It was a perfect gift from one of your viewers who watched almost every stream, Bigdaddyj. You loved this toy the most. It didn't make any noises and was easy to carry around in your bag… or inside your panties.

Soon the vibrations got stronger, leaving your mouth wide open. Your hips thrust in the air and your legs trembled.

A strangled moan forced out so you slapped your hand over your mouth to make no noises. You imagined Jungkook between your legs fingering your hole and sucking on your clit. Thinking of him humming and moaning on your pussy sent you to the edge.

Not so long after, your body seized up and climaxed.

You whimpered at the sensitivity and turned off the toy. It was hard to bring your breath to normal but you somehow managed and stood up yet again questioning your existence.

…

“So I see many of you tuned into this live… I was not expecting this,” you giggled looking at the viewer bar. There were about one thousand viewers. They could only see your boobs clad in a black satin tank top. “Shall we start with the QnA?”

Jungkook was lounging on his sofa with a glass of whiskey. He looked at MissPeach’s boobs. He just wanted to squeeze them and pamper them with kisses and just… keep on worshipping her.

Bigdaddyj: You look fabulous, pretty. How was your day?

You looked at the chat, it wasn't as crazy as when you bare your boobs and pussy. Your heart fluttered when you saw the name of your regular who insisted you call him daddy. “Thank you, Daddy! I'm fine, just a bit tired. It was a long day,” you hummed.

Bigdaddyj: Aw, baby. You should rest. Drink something warm and sleep.”

You smiled at his chat. Playing with the top of your tank top, you replied, “I will. But I have some other things to do and study for a bit.”

Jungkook watched MissPeach play with the top. He couldn't help but pay close attention to the hands. They were similar, he was sure of that. However, he shook his head and paid attention to MissPeach’s chat.

Cummingdick: show face

Natehell: Do you meet in private?

She answered that question, “No, I don't meet in private.”

Then Jungkook asked the question that had been bugging him all-day.

Bigdaddyj: Baby, yesterday you said that you don't get to talk a lot. What is that? Do your friends don't listen to you?

You looked at the question. Your smile faded, lucky you never showed your face. What were you supposed to answer? But it was Daddy who asked it so you had to answer.

“Well, I'm not a very social person. Plus I moved to a different country recently. So I don't have friends here. I prefer staying by myself anyway. It works for me!” you tried to be enthusiastic.

Patrick: show tits, bitch

Fuckboi2000: it's always the quiet ones who whore around

Lovethatpus: I thought you had fucked the whole campus

Jungkook didn't feel good. He heard that strained voice and could tell it was deeper than that. He felt rage reading mindless chat, on top of that. He always saw that innocence in her. Even though she was a camgirl, her demeanour reflected the innocence that he wanted to protect.

Bigdaddyj: it's alright, baby. Try to get along slowly. I'm sure you will make a good friend. Don't be alone, my darling.

The chat from Bigdaddyj brought a smile to your face. Where everyone was requesting you to remove your top and spread your legs, he was making sure you felt heard.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Daddy.”

The chat progressively got disappointing and soon turned into a mess. The viewers dropped down when you didn't remove any clothes.

There weren't many questions, in fact, nobody asked a proper question except Bigdaddyj.

Cummingdick: this sucks

Fuckboi2000: Man, you wasted my time, you fucking stupid cunt.

Ridemycock: never turn up if you not gonna show that pussy

Hideme: You're not as interesting as your pussy

Lovethatpus: No wonder why you don't have friends, bitch. Other than your pussy and tits, you are fucking boring

Boobieman: I would just use you and throw you. Boring ass bitch

You sighed. Maybe you shouldn't have done this. What did you even expect? Talking on a porn website? You shook your head and just looked at the chat, not answering any questions.

Soon, there was only one viewer left. And you were certain who he was.

“Daddy?” you called in a low, soft voice.

Jungkook's eyes widened when MissPeach called him. He wasn't expecting her to know that he was still tuned in. Half of him was burning with rage because of those stupid assholes who had to degrade you instead of going somewhere else.

He quickly typed.

Bigdaddyj: yes, baby?

“Do you wanna know a secret?” she hummed.

Bigdaddyj: yes, of course, baby. What is it?

You didn't say something for a few seconds and then stood up. Taking a tissue next to you, you poured some micellar water on it. “Look here, okay?” you said and took a deep breath.

Jungkook typed a yes and looked where she had lowered her pyjama shorts, brought the tissue and pressed for a few. It was above her hip bone on the left side.

Slowly, the tissue swapped and showed a tiny coloured tattoo. It was a cute little pastel pink peach.

Jungkook's mouth parted and looked at the tattoo. He felt his cock twitch in his sweats.

“I got this when I turned nineteen. But I always hid it. It's tiny but I always feel like not wanting to show this to anyone. But I only put on concealer whenever I come live or when I wear cropped tops or something like that,” MissPeach said.

Again, Jungkook’s fingers tapped across the keyboard.

Bigdaddyj: That has to be the most adorable tattoo I've ever seen, baby. I wanna kiss it.

A soft giggle left her. “You can kiss it, Daddy.”

Jungkook smiled.

Bigdaddyj: Tell me, pretty. What other secrets are you hiding?

She sat down again. Her delicate fingers tapped the tabletop. “There are some secrets that I have that no one knows. Will you keep them as secrets if I tell you them?”

Jungkook didn't need to think at all.

Bigdaddyj: Of course, baby. I'll keep them for you.

At this point, Jungkook just wanted her to talk about things that she couldn't talk about or didn't have a friend to talk to. He loved this. Just talking and existing at the same time.

He knew he was fucked. How could he get attached to a faceless person like this?

“I used one of your toys today…” she rubbed the back of her neck. “At university at lunchtime.”

Jungkook’s cock hardened right away. She used his toy at her university.

“And you know what's worse? I've been taking it every day with me and using it often at the university. I keep it in my secret pocket in the bag. I always feel dirty using it,” she confessed.

“Fuck,” Jungkook cursed.

Bigdaddyj: You always feel that horny, baby? What do you think about when you use it?

She paused for a moment, “will you be angry if I tell you the truth?”

He frowned. “So not me,” he mumbled. “Why would she? She has never seen me before.”

Bigdaddyj: Not at all, pretty.

“Hm… I always think about my professor,” she revealed.

“Fuck me,” Jungkook moaned. Even though it wasn't him, the thought of her masturbating to a professor made his cock harder.

Bigdaddyj: You are one nasty little girl, baby.

“I can't help it, Daddy. I really can't.”

…

Your morning class was supposed to be Chemistry but Jungkook couldn't show up for the lecture. Instead, he sent the worksheet to the students through an adjusted professor.

The instructions were similar to what they were for biology. However, this was not easy for you.

It took ten extra brain cells to solve one damn equation. There was no way you were going to get this worksheet done in time. You scolded yourself in your mind for taking this ungodly subject just to spend one more hour with Jungkook who truly never noticed you.

Later in the day, it was your Biology lecture. And to your luck, Jungkook was present in this class and had brought back the worksheets with him.

“You all did an excellent job with this worksheet,” he said as he stood up and smiled at all. Oh, that fucking killer smile that you wanted to eat up. “However, there was one person who did an exceptionally great job!”

His eyes roamed around and stopped at you. “Miss Park,” he called, making your breath stop. “Not a single mistake. Everything was written so beautifully and accurately. I'm impressed by your work. That one diagram was drawn with perfection even in a limited time. And all those diagram with other processes were great addition. One could tell you know what you are doing. Keep working like this,” he gave you a toothy smile and thumbs up.

Your cheeks turned into rosy red. Not trusting your voice, you quickly bowed to him from your seat and gave him an awkward smile.

The lecture passed by with him starting a new chapter and passing on the introduction of sub-topics to make everything easier when studied in detail— one of his tricks for learning that was your favourite.

As the lecture ended, everybody started to leave and you were packing up as well. It was only 2:00 PM and you were planning to go back to your apartment.

“Miss Park,” Jungkook called your attention. “Do you have time for a moment? I've something to discuss.”

You nodded.

Soon, you found yourself sitting in front of your professor. The same one who made you masturbate in public and that you confessed to a stranger who watched your stream regularly.

“Miss Park, you did an outstanding job in Biology. I'm impressed, actually. When I was handed your performance chart from your university, I knew I didn't need to be worried about you. No one gets into this university without any reason. It's harder. You either need too much brain or too much money,” he said. “I was actually quite eager to go through your Chemistry worksheet.”

You dug your nails into your palm, knowing well that you had disappointed him.

“I can see that Chemistry is difficult for you. Or if I rephrase it, you are thinking that it is difficult for you,” he pulled out the worksheet. “You haven't answered all the questions and there are some mistakes. From the look of it, it seems you have a problem with your basics. I'm pretty sure it will be all right once the lab starts but I think it would be much helpful if you understand things in theory better.”

You fumbled with your fingers and avoided his eyes. Your body was tense and he could see right through it.

Jungkook removed his glasses, “Miss Park, May I ask why you opted for this subject? I see you only had Biology before. Why the sudden addition of Chemistry?”

Taking a deep breath, you finally spoke up. “I'm sorry, Mr Jeon. I didn't mean to disappoint you in any way… I just took chemistry for extra credits.”

You lied. Oh, you fucking lied to your professor and you wanted to run away. Lying to him hurts you more than it should have.

Jungkook chuckled, “I’m not disappointed in you, Miss Park. I think with a little extra attention, you will be able to perform just as well as you do in Biology.”

You looked into his twinkling eyes. “I-I’m not sure if I can be that good in Chemistry. It's- it’s stupid, I should probably get it crossed. I think I still have time for that. Yeah, that, I'll do that,” the panic settled in.

Jungkook looked at you and found you a fragile little thing. He had never paid much attention to you knowing you were all good in your studies.

But right now, he wished he did.

You were a simple girl with a straightforward goal. He never saw you messing around or heard any gossip about you other than that you do not get mixed up well with others. Considering the fact that you had just moved out and still settling in, it was normal for not mixing up. It takes time.

“Miss Park,” Jungkook leaned in and patted your shoulder. “You don't need to panic. How about we try solving this problem for a couple of weeks and then see if you get any better, hm?

You sat frozen in your seat and just took in the feeling of his hand on your shoulder trying to calm you down. “What if I don't?”

Jungkook smiled, retrieving his hand and making you want more. “Then you can get it cancelled from your major.”

You nervously asked, “When can we start?”

“If you don't have any other class for the day, we can start right now! Do you have any classes?” you shook your head. “Alright, follow me to my office, Miss Park.”

Almost an hour since Jungkook has been focused on you. He was damn sure that your hands and voice were similar to MissPeach. He has been watching her for a month and he knows her perfectly. Her moans, whimpers, begging, sniffles, everything to the point she showed or let him see, he noticed.

However, he couldn't risk any false situations.

The picture of the peach tattoo flashed in front of his eyes. How MissPeach confessed to masturbating in university and that too while thinking about a professor… right into feeding his fantasies.

Not that he dreamt of that before but since MissPeach and you blocked his mind, he couldn't help but want this to happen. As forbidden as it was, you were a fully grown adult.

His pants started to tighten, his cock begging for a touch. But he pushed the need behind his head. He shouldn't think such filthy things while you are struggling to solve the equation in front of him.

He loved how your bangs caressed your soft cheeks. He wanted to caress your forehead to get rid of the tension lines you got while concentrating. He loved it when your nose scrunched up whenever you got stuck on a specifically harder equation.

He wondered why you had tiredness kissing your face. He hated that and wanted to take you in his arms and hum you to sleep in his lap.

Oh! He would do anything just to free your lower lip from the confines of your teeth and caress it with his thumb… kiss it with his lips and taste your pretty mouth.

His eyes widened at his wild thoughts. Fuck. He thought.

But something in his mind said that he needed to know if you were MissPeach or not.

Tattoo… he needed to keep an eye for it. She herself said that she always hid it whenever she came live or when she wore something like cropped tops.

…

It was the fifth day of the extra classes. You were waiting for Jungkook in his office with your notebook and textbook out as commanded by him. He informed you earlier that in this extra class, you will be joined by someone. You had no idea who this person was.

After about five minutes, the door opened. Along with Jungkook, another girl walked in. Margot.

There was nothing good about her. At least when it came to you, it wasn't. She was the only daughter of a realtor father and an advocate mother. Her nose was always high in the sky and her eyes looked down on people like you.

For her, you were not worth the hassle.

“Miss Park, Miss Bell was having trouble with the topic we are going to cover today. So I thought maybe we could work on it together!” Jungkook said as he took his seat in front of you and Margot on your left.

You nodded.

“Oh, well… I would have preferred this to be a private session, Mr Jeon. You know, it's better with personal attention and not,” Margot looked at you with a side eye, “share it with a scholar.” She spat the word scholar as if it were a pesticide.

Her voice was animatedly high-pitched and it annoyed you to no end.

“Really? I don't think so. Instead, I think that this is better. If you have any doubts, it can help Miss Park as well. And if Miss Park has any doubts, it can help you. Knowledge is never private, Miss Bell,” Jungkook sweetly said. You admired his thinking. He wasn't only hot and intelligent but also highly respectful as well. “Now without wasting time, let's start, shall we?”

It was only fifteen minutes in when Margot started to shit from her mouth.

“Mr Jeon, are you single?” she asked.

Jungkook looked up from his laptop and lowered his glasses. “Why do you ask?”

“You don't look single. There must be someone just as hot as you that you are dating,” your eyes widened at her choice of words.

Jungkook chuckled. “No, Miss Bell. I'm single.” His eyes stole glances at your face. You were buried in your book but he knew you were listening.

“Such a waste of hotness,” Margot tsked. “I think you deserve someone with pretty eyes, a sharp face and an intelligent mind, and money as well— ‘cause you know, there are many who would anything for money if they don't have it themselves! I'm sure you will go for someone who looks like a princess. With dusty blond hair,” At this point, she was just pointing out her own features.

“Miss Bell, I don't think you should be discussing such stuff. Plus, Miss Park must be getting disturbed,” his reply made your butterflies jump.

“Who cares? This is not all, you know? A girl must keep herself up to standards. No one will look at her if she keeps on being like this. A girl must wear good clothes, wear shoes that have solid soles and not hang by a single thread. Get a proper manicure done. Have some sense and class with good brands. And knows how to properly use make-up and not just use some cheap ass shit that cakes up,” you fisted your hands to hide your chipped nail paint as you felt the redness and shame crawling up your neck.

“Stop, Miss Bell! Thi–”

“I- I need to go,” you interrupted Jungkook and stood up. You messily collected your books and ran out without even putting them in your bag. You felt suffocated.

Jungkook could never be yours. You had nothing. You were average-looking, had no money to buy big brands, and had the most average life. and not to mention how you chose to bare yourself on the internet in front of strangers for money instead of going for an actual job.

You had nothing against people who did this with choice but you had never been this open-minded about it. Hell, you were still a virgin.

Long ago, your parents had a small business which earned enough for a healthy living. But because of your father's sudden illness, everything went to nothing. To pay the bills, your parents had to sell almost everything little by little and in that, the business went crashing. They sold the house and moved into a smaller house. It was still expensive. Hospital bills were stacking up. Most of your money went into that. It wasn't your choice to move away and stay like this. But desperate times bring desperate measures.

Why would Jungkook like you when you had too much shit to handle? He would probably walk away. Would he even look at you like you wanted? Never. You were his student, a twenty-one years old but still a student. While he was thirty years old successful professor.

…

It has been a week since MissPeach last came live.

You were kind of not feeling going on live after your qna. People, other than Daddy, made you feel like a worthless object that deserved nothing but to bare herself for the world to see. They had forgotten that there was an actual person with a heart that gets hurt as well.

So when you went live without any previous notice, you preferred to not talk at all and just release your stress. Plus you needed money to send it to your parents.

After coming back from your extra class with Jungkook, you could feel your arousal running down your thighs. Even though you weren't feeling good, your pussy had its own mind.

You were going to take care of your problem in private but you needed that money.

When the notification popped on Jungkook's phone, he quickly turned off the heat under the pasta and sat on the couch. He wasn't expecting you to go live but it was more than fine. He gets to talk to you.

The live started. You were sitting on your chair, wearing your underwear. A pastel blue set. Jungkook was quick to type the compliment and donate some money.

Bigdaddyj: My pretty baby looks so beautiful as always <3 –$300

He waited for you to say something but it never came. It was odd, you always replied to him.

You didn't say hi or ask how everyone's day was. Nothing.

Bigdaddyj: Baby? Everything alright?

You leaned back and sighed. Hooking up your thumbs with the corner of your panties, you removed them showing glistening folds.

Cummingdick: thank fuck this slut decided to show some pussy.

Randomdude: wanna fuck that hole so fucking bad💦

You slid your hand between your legs and teased your folds, not touching where you needed them the most. The slick was dripping down on your bed.

A blissful sigh escaped your throat when your cold fingers finally touched your throbbing clit. “Daddy,” you whimpered. It was your way to make him know that you acknowledge him and him only.

Jungkook’s cock hardened embarrassingly quickly. He knew something was not right and that MissPeach was feeling off but now when she moaned what she called him, he couldn't resist. He was sure that she was thinking of that professor but fuck he would be lying if that didn't just make him want to be delulu.

You picked up a lipstick and opened it. Dropping the cap, you picked another big blush brush with a metallic multi-coloured stick.

You pressed the button at the bottom of the lipstick and it started to buzz. Bringing it down to your clit, you gasped and moaned lewdly when the high vibrations buzzed through your veins.

“Oh my god, fuck,” you moaned.

Jungkook took out his cock from his sweatpants and stroked himself. This was one of his favourite toys that you owned paired with the brush wand in your hand. He always complimented her about it.

Bigdaddyj: Such a good girl, you are. Using Daddy's favourite toys. Hm? –$500

The ting of the donation made you look at the screen and made you moan knowing it was from Daddy. You turned on the brush and teased your hole with it. The double vibrations left you with your mouth wide open in a silent scream.

Slowly, you pushed the brush inside you. “Ah, Daddy please fuck me!” you screamed.

You closed your eyes and imagined Jungkook. He has been leaving subtle touches– not sexual. But they were enough for your weaker self.

You imagined his fingers rubbing your clit, spitting on it as his cock plunged into your filthy cunt. The vibrations against your G-spot made you see the stars.

It was embarrassing to admit that you had seen his huge bulge in the classroom sometimes.

You imagined how his hot cock would feel in your pussy as you rode him while his hands played with your tits, pinching your sensitive nipples. You just wanted him to wrap his hands around your throat and choke you as you lay under him with your knees touching your chin.

The overwhelming feeling of vibration from both the toys and the image of Jungkook ruining your cunt.

Jungkook matched the pace of your hand thrusting the damn thing in your swollen pussy. He was so close.

He had never seen MissPeach so out of it. He loved it.

His balls tightened, ready to burst anytime. Soon enough, his cock twitched and he emptied himself all over his white shirt when you moaned out loud and squirted. The brush slipped out of your cunt.

You dropped the lipstick thing and slapped your pussy as you squirted more and more with the image of Jungkook between your legs, lapping up your juices like the gentleman he is.

Your eyes and breath took time to adjust and when you felt normal, you turned off the live and sat there thinking about what just happened just like Jungkook who was hard again after seeing you squirt like a broken faucet.

You had never squirted in your whole life.

…

There was complete silence in Jungkook’s office. You were sitting in front of him, working on some theory. Your concentration was strong and you grasped everything perfectly.

Everything about you was quiet. You walked quietly, talked quietly, and even your breath was quiet. Not a single noise that you have ever made. However, you were even quieter after that class with Margot and that didn't slip from Jungkook’s attention.

Whenever you had any doubts, you would just slide your notebook or textbook across the table with a circle around the doubt.

He missed your voice.

Subconsciously, he noticed everything about you. You never talked to anybody. Never hung out in the canteen. Heck, he didn't even see you outside of these classes. It was as if you vanish after classes and only appear in the class.

Considering your age, he expected to catch you with a boy or a girl here and there. He had caught almost the rest of the students in such a compromising state. And he wasn't too old himself, just thirty years old, he knew what this generation's needs were.

He was, to say the least, concerned about you.

“Miss Park?” He called.

You looked up from your book and waited for him to continue. “I know it might come out as inappropriate but I couldn't help but notice how you are always on your own. Like, I've never seen you with someone else before and never outside of the classes. Is everything alright?”

You were wondering why he was suddenly interested in your pathetic life. “I don't think I get along well,” you whispered, thinking it should be enough and focused back on the book.

“Why not? You are smart and intelligent. I'm sure there are many who would want to be friends with you,” he said with enthusiasm to encourage her to have friends.

You just looked up at him again and shook your head and looked down again.

“That’s not the spirit, Miss Park. Trust me, friends come a long way. I have my childhood friends and other friends still in contact. Any need? They are right there for me,” he tried to reason.

You sighed, “Mr Jeon, I'm happy that you have such friends. But it's not everyone's thing. Not everybody is able to make friends. Sometimes it's better to be just… left alone. I would rather focus on studies, pass, and get out of here. I have no time for anything else.”

There were unspoken words left. Jungkook wanted to hear those. But he didn't press you much. He could see the wave of sadness that shifted on your face. He hated it.

He still blames himself for bringing Margot with him to the class. There was too much that these rich students (of course, not all but some) didn't understand. And he could see the maturity that you attained. He knew things were much deeper than mere relatability.

“Do you bring your lunch from home, Miss Park?” he abruptly asked.

You frowned but nodded.

“Did you bring it today as well?”

You nodded, again.

“Great! You should eat here. With me. I made some Jjajangmyeon and was wondering if I could have some company during lunch. It doesn't feel right without sharing… you can share your lunch with me!” he smiled, closed his laptop and placed the book he was going through away.

“I don't think you would want to have my lunch,” you nervously whispered.

“Oh, hush! Now pack up, it's lunchtime!”

Not even five minutes later, there were two bowls with noodles in it. Jungkook started to mix his bowl and pointed his eyes at yours with a smile, asking you to eat as well.

Jungkook had happily taken half of your sad American cheese sandwich and ate it with a huge smile. He had said that it was really good and you didn't believe him at all. But his following lines almost made you cry. They were— “You know, Miss Park, I always love food. It could be as simple as bread and butter or as complex as Korean BBQ. In the end, it's food. Not everyone gets to eat it. So I'm thankful for what I have and what I eat. No one should be ashamed of what they eat. As long as it fills up your stomach, it is good.”

This only added another reason why you loved hi–

Loved?

…

The moment you and Jungkook stepped into the library, he kept his eyes on you while you tried to find a specific book for your extra class.

Ever since he started giving you extra classes, he has paid more attention to you. And not from an academic perspective but as in you. He was hurt, to say the least.

You were alone. And he saw that right through your eyes.

Being away from one's home country and staying with ruthless rich young adults was not something as pleasant for someone from the working class. He felt for you. No details were needed to know that these people must have made your time here harder.

Since Margot, he had seen an utter decline in your health as well. Even in the stream, he noticed how your body had gone thinner.

Yes, he was certain that it was you, the MissPeach. But still, the odds were there.

After that lunch from yesterday, he had been thinking about you without any break. He couldn't even set the worksheet for juniors just because he was consumed by you. He kept seeing your tired eyes and the dark circles that stuck to them.

It took all the will to keep his fingers from caressing them and kissing them away. A strange wish to protect you and keep you arose within him that he never felt before.

It shook him, how much he had grown to care for you in just two weeks. He was afraid that you might break down at any moment.

You were this fragile little doll and yet so strong. He admired you. You were everything he ever wanted… scratch that, you were more than what he ever wanted. It was like he asked for an Apple but he got a basket full of apples with an apple pie. And love beside it.

Jungkook kept looking at you from where he was standing and smiled as you looked through the shelves of books to find what you needed. The tiny scrunching nose and your baby hair falling over your face… just adorable. He wished he could thread his fingers through them and tuck them behind your ears as his fingers brushed your nape, raising your goosebumps.

He smiled when he saw your eyes light up after you spotted the book you were finding. It was way above the shelf and you tried to reach it.

You looked too good to be true.

You tried reaching it with your right hand, and when failed, you switched to your left. As if that arm was longer than the other.

Jungkook chuckled and took one step to help you but instead, he froze in his place. His eyes wandered down and stopped at the naked skin just above your left hip. There it was. The pretty peachy peach sitting on your skin, taunting him.

His heart stopped for a moment and then ran faster like the wind in the thunderstorm.

Something feral ticked inside his guts.

You tried to reach for the book but it was too far up. Just as you were about to turn around and fetch the stool, a warm body pressed against your back and a hand rested on your covered right side. You didn't need to know who it was… that musky earthy scent was enough to make your heart beat like crazy knowing it was Jungkook.

You dumbly looked at his hand slowly grabbing the book and bringing it down to you. His hot breath fanned against your ear and his lips brushed against the shell of it.

And then he said in a deadly deep, low, and raspy voice, “I think, next time, you need to be more careful with your tattoo… MissPeach.”

The book dropped on the ground. Your eyes widened and your mouth parted open. Daddy. No one but Daddy knows.

Millions of haunting thoughts swirled in your head making you feel lightheaded. You were sure he was going to expose you and get you expelled.

“Meet me in my office, Miss Park,” he said and lightly kissed your ear. “Right now.”

The coldest warmth disappeared. So did your last brain cell.

You were doomed.

…

When you knocked on the door to the office, your soul almost left your body, trying to free itself from the humiliation.

The ever-soft “come in” made you realize that there was no going back. You fucked up.

How could he be Bigdaddyj? That shocked you to no end. You shouldn't have revealed that fucking tattoo of yours that night. But you felt a need to share at least one thing with that faceless stranger to feel something. To feel like you, too, had someone who knows your dirty secrets. Oh! The worst of all… the confession about masturbation.

Talk about sharing secrets. You scoffed at yourself.

Hesitantly, you opened the door and entered the room without looking up. You shut the door behind you extra tightly, making sure no one on the other side could hear anything. Unless they stuck their ears to the door.

Your body trembled as you stepped in front of his desk and stood there like a shivering statue. The inner screaming made you restless. This was too embarrassing to handle.

Your professor whom you have been crushing over since day one has seen you masturbate on the internet and the worst part is, he donated you good money as well.

He was going to ask for money, wasn't he? You cringed at yourself. How were you going to repay?

“Miss Park, I guess we both know what we are going to… discuss,” he started. You nodded. “Words… Miss Park.”

“Yes, Mr Jeon,” you whispered.

Jungkook stood up from his chair, “We had a nice talk in that stream, didn't we?”

The tears pricked your eyes so you kept your head down, keeping the sight of your face away from his expensive eyes.

He slowly walked around the table and stood behind you, caging you with his arms around you and placing his hands flat on the table. “It’s interesting, you know? To know that one of my students is a camgirl,” he whispered in your ear. “Do you want me to keep this dirty little secret for you, too?”

You nodded to you a few times, praying so that he could indeed keep this a secret. “Please,” you whispered in a weak tone.

“Hmm… but I want to know one thing in return, MissPeach…” his chest plastered with your back.

“Tell me one thing. Who is that professor whose thoughts make you wet, hm?” his jealousy made his brain fog up and let it out on you. “The one who gets you so fucking horny that you play with that pretty pussy in university with the toy that I sent you. Who is he? Is it Jimin? Or Namjoom? It has to be Namjoon. Big, ripped. He is the definition of hotness. I'm sure you imagine him licking your pretty pussy,” you couldn't imagine yourself. You felt dirty thinking about the image he was pasting. The only time you didn't feel dirty was when you imagined Jungkook and only Jungkook. The idea of being with any other professor made you cringe harder.

The more he talked about you being with some other person, the more tears dropped down your cheeks. You didn't want to admit that it was him. You promised yourself that you would let him paint whatever picture he wanted and never tell him the truth.

“Imaging his dick in your pussy? Isn't it? You would love that, wouldn't you? Having Namjoon’s dick in you and just ju—”

“You!” you screeched when he didn't stop. Into the well went the promise. It was too hard to listen to him.

Jungkook went rigid, “what?”

Your body trembled violently, “it’s you that I think about!” you let it out as your voice cracked.

“Y/n,” you felt his hands on your arms turning you around to face him. “Look me in the eyes, please.”

You looked up and he felt his heart break. Your face was red with tears running down. “Please, Mr Jeon. I beg you to keep this a secret, please! I will do anything you want. I-I’ll do better at Chemistry. But keep this to yourself. I can't– I can't afford to get kicked out. Everything will get ruined. Please n—”

Your words died when your face squished against his warm and hard chest. His one hand threaded through your hair and the other one rubbed your back.

“I’m sorry, Princess,” he whispered. “I won't ever tell this to anyone, baby. There is nothing wrong. I may have– no… I definitely let my jealousy take over and act like an idiot. You have done absolutely nothing wrong.”

Your eyes were wide open but they relaxed. Your shaky hands reluctantly circled around him and hugged him back. You felt warm. Not only on the outside but inside as well. The ice of burden melted for a while with the warmth he gave you. His fingers caressing your scalp made your head feel better. His hand running along your spine calmed your inner screamings.

Strangely enough, he was all you needed at that moment.

You just wanted to melt into his warmth and become a part of him.

As ridiculous as it looked, it was magical. Healing even.

You felt his nose against your head and he sniffed before pulling himself away just a little to see your face.

Jungkook gently wiped your cheeks and tucked your loose locks behind your ears. Your soft gaze softened his heart and he kept looking into them.

His hands cupped your face and pulled you closer to his face. Your nose touched with his and his minty fresh breath fanned your face.

Without using any words, he asked for your permission. As much as your brain was screaming to push him and run away, your mind made your head nod.

His eyes smiled.

And then he let his soft lips be on yours. Everything about him was warm and soft.

His lips lapped yours in a slow kiss. It was not lusty or heated but the one where he expressed more than he could say. The care, the love, the admiration. He didn't only kiss your lips but your soul. Dramatic but made sense.

Your lips moved in sync.

Jeon Jungkook was your first kiss.

He was careful trying not to hurt you. He held your face as if it was made of glass. Your hands were clutching his shirt as if you let go, you might actually break. It felt like a fever dream, the one from which you never wanted to wake up.

Your lips parted away from his and your forehead rested against his. You opened your eyes unhurriedly and saw him already looking at you.

“Jealousy?” you asked.

Jungkook’s hands slid down and held your waist, “you might have stolen my heart, Princess,” he deeply whispered. “Let it be MissPeach or Miss Park… your both of those sides snatched my heart. You have no idea how bad I've been wanting to be with you, baby,” his thumbs drew circles on your waist. “At first it was the fascination of MissPeach but since I have started to get to know you, I've been dying to make you mine, Princess. You fucked up my mind… And I love it. I love it more than I should,” he breathily chuckled.

“How did you know it was me?” your mind was blurred with proximity.

“Believe me or not but it was your hands that made me realize and when you talked, I knew it was MissPeach,” he said and kissed the tip of your nose.

“My hands?” you frowned and looked at your hands. You turned them around to see what gave them off.

Jungkook chuckled and held your hands in his large ones. Bringing them closer to his lips, he pecked them. “Everything you allowed me to see and hear, I know them. A single look and a single noise of you will always make me know that it's you, Princess.”

You were at a loss for words. “But why would you pay attention to a girl who fucks herself for everyone to see?”

With two fingers, he lifted up your chin and looked into your eyes, “You are not just a girl, Y/n. You are my girl. And don't think of yourself any less just because you are a camgirl. I know you and know that you are better than anyone I have ever known.” You could see the concern swimming in his pebble eyes. “I want you to be mine, baby. Is that too much to ask?”

“You are my professor,” you voiced your fear. “What if someone finds out?”

“Not forever,” he kissed your forehead. “And no one will find out. Just one and a half more years, baby. Then we can be free and be ourselves. Give it a try, okay?”

You had nothing to lose.

“Okay.”

…

Little peeking and pecking kept going on between Jungkook and you. Small smiles and reassuring pats on the back were a new routine that the two of you followed.

There was no need for any extra classes anymore but it only felt right and it was the only way to spend some time without anyone interrupting or feeling highly alerted.

You were sitting on the chair, working through some practical problems on your own. Nothing was better than this. Sitting in your professor's office, studying peacefully, stealing some kisses and praises, and just existing together— no more existing alone.

Jungkook was leaning against the table next to you, running his fingers through your luscious locks. It was his newly found habit that he loved the most.

His fingers traced your forehead, moving along your temple down to your chin, he raised your head and looked deep into your eyes. His thumb grazed your lower lip. His eyes were taking in the softness of your lips.

Leaning down till your foreheads touched, he said, “Have I ever told you how fucking beautiful you are, Princess?”

“Like ten minutes ago,” you closed your eyes and took in the closeness.

“Really?” he gasped. “I should tell you that more often than that,” you giggled. Something in his chest warmed up. “You are the most perfect person I have seen, baby.”

“Yeah?” He hummed in answer. “But don't you think that other girls are perfect and I’m nothing in front of them? They have perfect features and perfect bodies. Their hair is always well-styled and their makeup is seamless. And their skin looks baby-soft all the time.”

It was odd to unfold your insecurities like this.

Jungkook inhaled, “look at me, baby,” he asked in the softest voice. When you opened your eyes and looked into his eyes, he began, “They are pretty and perfect. Just not for me. Everyone is pretty and perfect in their own little ways. And you, my darling, are the most perfect and breathtaking woman I've ever seen in my life. They are pretty in my eyes, but you are prettier. They might have the softest skin but I only want to caress your sweet cheeks. Their hairstyles take much effort, probably but yours are the ones that make my heart flutter. Everything you do is far better than them for me. So, never say that ever again. Of course, if you feel insecure, you tell me. I'll make sure to make you feel like the queen that you are. And if anyone touches you to tell you otherwise, they will be seeing a version of me that nobody asked.”

Your heart quivered. No one has ever made you feel the way Jungkook did. Older men like him always know how to be a gentleman. Nothing compares to him. You were sure that he was a cleaner version of Zade Meadows.

Something else has been bothering you. “Mr Jeon…”

“Yes, baby?” he caressed your cheek.

“I–I masturbate on live streams. Doesn't that bother you?” you looked everywhere but his eyes.

Jungkook straightened up and walked back to his seat and sat down. “Come here,” he patted his lap.

You stood up and shakily walked to him. His hands clutched your sides and made you sit on his lap, your legs on his either side and back against the table.

His hands rubbed your sides to calm your trembles. “Why do you ask that?”

“I don't know,” you whispered.

“You didn't go live since that day, baby. Why is that?” you rested your palms on his shoulders.

“I wasn't sure if you would like that, me going live after everything happened between us,” you hated to talk about this but it was necessary. And the sooner you talk about this, the better.

“Do you enjoy doing lives? Tell me honestly, okay?” he asked. His eyes held nothing but understanding. That made it easier for you. But you still took some time. Were you really into this whole ordeal? “Baby?” Jungkook shook you out of your head.

“I don't,” you blur out. Jungkook's eyebrows raised in half surprise and half question. “Well, not as much. I guess the more I did the more I became used to it. There are things I don't like about it. And if I had other options, I would have never gone this way.”

His hands moved to your back, and seeing your shiny eyes made his heart ache. He pulled you closer to his chest, your head resting in the crook of his neck. “Then why are you doing this, pretty? Why is there no other option?”

You inhaled his intoxicating scent before you began, “My father had a business. It had about two million worth of average turnover. It was going perfectly. My mother was a housewife. We were living a perfect little life like any other middle-class family. We had a two-story house in the city and two cars. Nothing else was needed. However, everything came crashing down one day…” Jungkook felt wet against his neck, it squeezed his heart but he kept listening as he rubbed your back.

“He was rushed to the hospital and we got a call. My father had a brain tumour. It was bad. It affected such parts of the brain that made his body non-functional. I was still a minor and wasn't aware of much. Things took a great turn and in a span of a few years, everything that my father built from scratch was gone.

His medical bills were amassing up. We had to sell everything. We sold one car. A year later from that incident, we sold our house,” you choked on your words. Your hands clutched Jungkook's shirt tightly in your fist. “We moved closer to the hospital but outside the city. It was a one-room apartment. It had no rooms. Just a space which had one kitchen and one door that led to the bathroom. Nothing else.

We lived there. My parents still live there. I worked hard every day to get a scholarship. I forgot what it was like to sleep or have fun. In that little space, three of us were… we were just there. Not really alive. But just three beating hearts. I passed my exam. I got the scholarship,” you took a deep shaky breath.

“I got into the University I always wanted. I maintained my grades so that I could change my and my parents’ lives. My professors there were impressed with my performance so they persuaded me to give my name in the student exchange program. I wasn't sure before but they said that it was only going to help me and make my resume look like a quote-unquote shining star

“Good things come with their own bitterness. Even if the fee was forgiven, I still had to reach here. We didn't have enough funds for that so we ended up selling our second car. I preferred to live off-campus. It wasn't the most sane idea but it was harder to be in a dorm.

“So when I came here, I found a job as a barista but that didn't pay any of my bills. And my parents needed money as well. My mother couldn't work because she needed to look after my father all the time. So, I took responsibility because they spent too much on me for me to come here. And I didn't want to be a burden.

“So the only option I was left with was live streaming. It pays my rent and the rest goes to my parents. For hospital bills and all. Nothing else earned me enough but this. So I had to do what I do now.”

It was a dead silence. Jungkook's hands on your back stopped moving somewhere in between. You wanted him to say something or at least run your back to comfort you. But when you raised your head and looked at his face, silent tears were running down his closed eyes. He was biting his lip so that no voice escaped him.

He wanted to comfort you by staying strong but it was harder than it was in his head.

“Jungkook,” you first time took his name. It made his heart flutter. He opened his eyes and just looked at you. You looked tired and it all made sense to him. You stayed away from everyone and closed yourself off just so you could work hard towards your goals and make something out of your life. To make a difference in the family and help them.

You took steps out of your liking and comfort zone just so your parents could have a little bit of ease on themselves. You were beyond perfect. You were more than an angel.

You were too good to be true.

He choked on his words, “I’m sorry, baby. I didn't mean to cry but I just can't help,” his last three words were almost inaudible.

Your heart clenched and fresh tears poured out of your eyes. Holding his face in your tiny hands, you wiped his tears and kissed the tip of his nose. “Thank you,” you whispered.

“For what, baby?” he sniffed.

“…just take it,” you kissed his cheek.

He smiled and pecked your glossy lips. “You know that I’m so proud of you, baby. And you just keep on making me prouder every single day. I admire your will and strength. There is nothing that can stop you from chasing your dreams, pretty girl. And I'll be right next to you to make sure that you have everything in the world you need to keep you happy. I'll take all of your tensions and work on them with you. You don't have to worry about anything. Let me know the bank details and I'll take care of your parents’ expenses from now on.”

“No,” you said. “I don't want you to do that at all. All I want from you is to be here. Let me take care of my parents, please. I don't wanna take anything from you. The only thing I want is you and nothing else,” you were aware of the blind money that this university paid to their A-listed professors and Jungkook happened to be one of them. But you weren't here for money but for him.

“I will be always here with you just like right now,” he whispered against your lips before joining them.

He bit your lip lightly making you gasp. The innocent kiss turned into a heated one. Taking the opportunity, he shoved his tongue inside your mouth. You let him explore your mouth as you did his. He sucked your lower lip and let it go.

Your jaw was littered with kisses and licks as he found his way to your neck. It took him two seconds to find your soft spot and sucked on it, making you hum. Your hands threaded through his hair and fisted them.

Your nails against his scalp made his cock twitch in his pants and it got harder the more you moaned. He looked into your eyes. “Baby, we need to stop before I do something else,” he warned you.

You whined, “No, please don't stop now,” you begged.

“But you are not fine right now,” he tried to reason.

“I won't be if you don't touch me! Make me forget everything but you, Mr Jeon! Make me feel free… Please fuck me!” you begged.

Something ticked inside him. His eyes went feral. The blood left his brain and rushed straight into his cock. He swiped everything from his table and dropped you on it. He hastily removed his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. He came closer and attached your forehead with his As he looked into your eyes.

In a low, deadly voice, I’m going to fuck you senseless, baby. I'll make sure we leave this campus with you in my arms and not on your feet.”

Jungkook removed his shirt and shortly his pants followed behind. He lets you take in his body. Your jaw slacked open. He had a murderous figure. His chest was big and his abs were defined. What made your pussy throb like a bitch was his right arm which was adorned with tattoos. You knew about the hand tattoos but you never knew about the arm. He was full of surprises.

His thighs were big and stiff. You knew it. Every time he made you sit on his lap, you knew they had their own glory and you wanted to ride it anytime.

It looked like God himself— no, the Devil himself carved this man. There was no way that God would create something this sinful.

“Like what you see, Princess?” if you knew his voice could go any deeper, you would have controlled yourself better. But you let out a loud moan just by hearing his voice while shamelessly looking at his body. The outline of his humongous cock didn't go unnoticed.

“Oh my God,” you shakily whispered.

Jungkook didn't wait any longer, his patience was already running low. His fingers played with the hem of your blouse, waiting for you to give him the green light.

It took a shy smile and a nod from you for him to go wild. He removed your shirt and captured your lips between his. Your tongues fought for dominance.

The bra was next to go. Your sensitive nipples hardened as the cool air touched them.

Then his eyes fell on that little tattoo that made him untamed. That little peach above your hip teased him. “That is going to kill me someday, baby,” he grunted.

Jungkook cupped your tits and kissed his way to them. He pushed you down on the table and lapped on your left nipple. His left hand cupped your other tit and his right hand fondled with your pants button.

He opened it and slid his hand in your panties. His fingers touched your leaking pussy and slid lower to your hole. He brought his wet fingers to your clit and rubbed it slowly making you moan out his name.

He chuckled darkly, “Look at you, all wet for me,” he teasingly bit your nipple as his eyes were fixed on your face. He loved how your face scrunched up with pleasure.

He took the other nipple in his mouth and repeated the assault on them. Slowly, he kissed down your sternum. His warm lips hovered above your tattoo and then he kissed it. You thrashed under him as he kept licking and sucking the spot. He was satisfied when the pastel colours of your tattoo had a deep red and purple hue around it.

He waited for this, to see your face while the tremors of pleasure ran through your body. None of your lives could compete with the real thing that you had. And Jungkook worshipped it.

He pinched your clit and made your back arch, pushing your breast more into his hungry mouth. He loved how your body reacted to his touches. And the forbidden nature of the relationship made him hornier.

It was so wrong yet so right.

“This needs to go, baby,” he rasped. His hands impatiently removed your pants along with your panties. “Fuck,” he grunted.

No, seriously… the real thing could never match the screen.

Jungkook took a seat and pulled you closer by your legs. He dropped your legs on his shoulder, kissing his way up to your pussy. Your legs trembled around his head as he got closer.

Supporting yourself up with your elbows, you looked into his mischievous eyes. You had never seen such a look in his eyes. Your heart felt glad that it was that way. Not in a million years, you wanted him to give this look to someone else.

He teased your pussy by giving light kisses on your folds. But he gave in as you started to whine. The moment you felt his hot lips pressed onto your pussy, your eyes rolled back as you fell back. His lips wrapped around your throbbing clit and sucked it.

Your nails scratched the wooden table as his tongue played with you. He lapped your dripping hole and moaned as your sweet taste coated his mouth.

The vibrations of his moans made your legs wrap around his head harder but he slapped them away. “Be a good little kitten for me, baby.”

“Please,” you moaned.

“Please what?” he bit your clit.

“Please, sir.”

“Oh, fuck!” he grunted as he found out his new kink. His cock got harder, which surprised him. “What do you want, Princess? Tell me, baby. Tell your professor what your needy cunt wants.”

Another wave of sinful shocks travelled your belly as he talked dirty making you cry out in bliss, “Your fingers! Please, sir!”

He smirked at you and licked your clit just as he pushed two of his fingers in your cunt. Your brows scrunched up and your mouth fell open.

His long, thick fingers filled you up. They moved along with the rhythm of his tongue and did come hither motion, teasing your g-spot.

His fingers picked up the pace and fucked you. He could feel your climax coming closer as your pussy throbbed around his fingers. He didn't stop and soon enough, your back arched, your mouth opened in a silent scream, and came all over his fingers.

Jungkook almost came in his boxers when your needy cunt squirted all over him. He didn't stop sucking on your clit and plunged his fingers until he got everything you had for him.

He removed his fingers and looked into your eyes as he licked his fingers clean. He bent over you with his arms next to your head, “You taste so fucking sweet, Princess. So fucking pretty.”

You pulled him in and smashed your lips against his lips and tasted yourself. “You know, that day on live, it was my first time squirting and I was thinking about you doing exactly this.”

“Baby, you are going to fucking kill me,” he said as he cock twitched and begged to be released. He made a quick move in discarding his boxers and freed his cock as it smacked against your pussy.

You pulled apart and looked down at his angry, throbbing cock. Your eyes bulged out at the length and the girth of it. His cock was bigger and fatter than any of your little toys. You weren't sure if he was going to fit.

“I don't think that will fit in,” you whispered, still glancing at his monstrosity.

He chuckled darkly and pecked your lips, “Baby, my dick was made to serve your pretty little cunt,” he hummed in your ear as his hand slid his cock on your slit, making it slicker with your cum. “So, your cunt will take,” he aligned his cock with your hole, “this,” he pushed his angry head in, “fucking,” your eyes rolled as his cock practically ripped your insides, “dick,” he shoved it to the hilt.

His breath came out in pants. He kissed your lips as you got used to his size. “So fucking warm and tight,” he mumbled against your lips. “It’s all mine… all mine.”

“More,” you gasped. “Fuck me like I’m your slut!”

Jungkook smirked as his cock twitched in your cunt. He slowly pulled out a few inches and shoved his cock back, making you moan. His veiny cock rubbed your walls perfectly and the curve of his cock made his hot head caress your G-spot.

It was an overwhelming feeling but in a good way.

Slowly he picked up his pace and fucked you. His right hand went between your body and rubbed your clit. “Oh my God!” you moaned.

He looked between your bodies where you were sucking him in. His cock twitched seeing how your pussy was all spread open around his cock. The velvety warm walls of your cunt made it harder for him to stay sane. He was trembling just like you.

“So perfect for me, baby. So perfect,” he whispered as he kissed your neck. “I’m gonna fuck you do good. I'm gonna fuck my pretty little slut so good that she forgets everything but me.”

“Jungkook!” your moan turned into a gasp when you felt a sting on your ass cheek. Jungkook rubbed the area where he had just spanked you. He looked you in the eye with a murderous glare. He stopped his thrusts.

“What do you say, slut?” he growled. “I think you are asking for a punishment. Hm?” you screamed when his heavy hand landed on your sensitive clit.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you whimpered as another hard blow landed on your other asscheek. Your pussy clenched around his cock. He loved it. He loved how you took everything he gave you. Such a pretty little slut for him.

“You like being spanked, don't you?” His thrusts were slow and hard. Your tits jiggled with each stroke. “Look at you, your cunt is practically suffocating me.”

You cried, “Please, sir. I'll be a good girl. Please, harder.”

He leaned in, shoved his tongue down your throat and pushed your legs up. He picked up an animalistic pace and fucked you to oblivion. The sound of skin slapping got louder. His balls slapped your ass.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered.

Like an obedient little slut, you opened your mouth and slipped your tongue out. He collected the spit in his mouth and spat on your tongue. “Swallow,” he moaned as you clenched so badly around his shaft. You swallowed his spit and showed him your mouth. “Good Girl.”

He wrapped his free hand around your neck and squeezed it just enough for you to breathe properly but tight enough to make your pussy throb like a bitch.

“Such a perfect little slut for me,” he grunted. “So fucking kinky and dirty. Just as I love it,” he pinched your clit.

“Only for you!” you gasped.

“Yes, baby. Only for me. I'm never gonna let you go. Do whatever you want, pretty. Do as many lives as you want but only I can touch and fuck this pussy. Only mine,” he bit your lips.

Jungkook could feel you throb around his cock, telling him that you were close. “So close,” you whimpered against his mouth.

“Cum, Princess. Cum for Daddy,” your legs trembled and your back arched as let you cum all over his cock and helped your ride through it.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you screamed.

Jungkook held your legs and fucked you ruthlessly as he chased his own high. He could feel your cum coating his cock. His head felt light as he finally came inside your pussy.

His hot cum filled your pussy to the brim. You felt a small wave of orgasm hit you as he came.

He panted and hugged you closer. His head rested on your chest and listened to your running heartbeat. He loved it. He loved feeling you all naked on his desk. Your hands found their home in his hair as they caressed his scalp. “Baby, are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you panted. You took in the closeness and appreciated every moment with him.

After a moment, Jungkook pulled and looked at your pussy leaking your and his mixed cum. If it were someone else, the thought would never have crossed his mind but looking at your pussy, he wanted to eat it clean. It looked so delicious and creamy. It was as if she was inviting him and taunting him. He needed to eat you.

So he did that.

He sat on his chair and pulled you closer to him and without a warning, he licked your sensitive pussy from your hole to the clit.

You whimpered as he overstimulated your pussy. “Too sensitive.”

“Give me one more, Baby. Just one more. I know you can,” he said and shoved his tongue into your hot cunt and ate till you came on his tongue once again.

You were a trembling mess. You could still feel his cock in your stomach as he got up to clean you. When he gently wiped your pussy with a wet tissue, you flinched but he rubbed his free hand on your side, down to your leg, soothing you and getting you through this.

You looked at his face which was glowing and had an admirable smile on his pretty face. His cheeks and ears were red. He looked at you with stars in his eyes and felt like crying.

Nobody had ever looked at you the way he did. But again, nobody was Jungkook but him.

“Let's go to my place, yeah? I don't want to leave without you. I need you to be closer to me. We can cuddle, watch movies, have dinner, and do anything you want, okay?” he said as he cleaned his softening cock and got dressed up.

You thought for a moment, “Okay…” you didn't want to be alone either. You craved his touch and warmth. This was your first time, it only made you want him more.

“Let's get you dressed up as well,” he smiled.

Jungkook held your hands and helped you off the table but your trembling legs gave up. He caught you and hugged you against his chest. You looked up with your mouth open as you felt sore. He gave you a knowing smirk.

To say the least, he ended up carrying you out of the university to his car.

…

“Oh my God!” you sulked in the corner of the couch as you curled into a ball. “Someone could have walked in!”

It was amusing for Jungkook to watch you just realize that you two had sex in his office at the University. He wondered how only now you registered it and not before while he was buried in your pussy.

“I had my door locked, sweety. Don't worry,” he chuckled as stood by the dining table, mixing the chocolate cake batter.

“Some could have knocked or worse,” you looked up at him with eyes wide open and your expression morphed into horror, “heard us!”

He left the bowl on the dining table and sat beside you, pulling you on his lap. He cupped your pouting face and kissed your lips softly. “Nothing happened, right? So don't worry, my love. Come help me bake the cake and then we will have dinner.”

You hummed and pecked his lips. “Okay, Mr Jeon.”

“Jungkook. It's Jungkook for you, Princess… or Daddy. The choice is yours,” he winked, making you laugh.

Later that night, Jungkook kissed every inch of you. He started from your forehead to your toes. He loved the idea of having you in his bed. He lent you his shirt that was too big for your frame. You wore nothing else under that shirt. He fanboyed over you and worshipped you.

“You look effortlessly beautiful,” he mumbled as he kissed your jaw. “You have me wrapped around your pinky finger in just a couple of weeks, hm.”

You giggled as you rubbed your hand along his tattooed arm. “I never knew you had tattoos.”

Jungkook laid beside you and in his arms and looked at his right arm. “I never show them in the University. When I had recently joined, everyone used to stare. It was a distraction so I started wearing full sleeves.”

“Of course, they will be distracted. And now I will, too! Now whenever I'm going to see you, I will see what's beneath your clothes,” you said.

Jungkook smirked, “Yeah? You will imagine me naked in the class now?” he teased. “I’m your Professor, Princess. Have some shame.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Where was your shame when you ripped my pussy with that sinful thing you call your dick?”

His chest rumbled with a laugh, making you smile. “Touché… I can't really complain, can I? I'll be seeing you naked, too,” he kissed your lips tenderly. “You fucked me up, Princess. I thought it was just lust for MissPeach but fuck, I would be lying if I didn't say I feel more than that and feel like protecting you from everything… Thank you for giving me a chance, love. I'll make sure that you are happy from now on. I'll take care of you from now on.”

“But—”

“Shh,” his finger on your lips shut you up. “I know that it is too soon but please move in here with me, yeah? You don't have to worry about the rent, I own this place. I don't feel good about letting you live alone. It is too soon but you can try, please. As I said before, you can stream as much as you want and support your parents. But let me take care of you. It hurts me to see you tired and not taken care of. So, let me do it. And if someone suspects something. Just say that I rent you a room in the apartment and if they still have any issues, bring them to me and don't hide if someone is rude to my pretty girl, okay?”

“I don't deserve your kindness, Jungkook,” you smiled with watery eyes. “But I'll be selfish for once and take it.”

He smiled and kissed you again. “That's my good girl,” he whispered and turned you around.

Your back was plastered with his warm chest. His arm circled your body and his hand pathed its way between your legs. He cupped your pussy and shoved his two fingers in. His other hand slid under your shirt and groped your breast.

You gasped, “what…?”

Jungkook kissed your shoulder, “you will sleep better. And I get to be closer to you,” he whispered. “Now sleep, Princess.”

You bit your lip and melted in his chest. Your insides exploded with giddiness. It did indeed feel good to have his fingers in your pussy as you fell asleep.

It was the best night ever.

“You deserve all the kindness in the world, Baby.”

…

Epilogue.

12 years later.

The heel of your red bottoms tapped on the floor as you walked down the corridor and you reached your apartment door.

You weren't supposed to go but there was an emergency at the hospital where you were an Oncologist. Luckily, everything was under control and you got to leave sooner. But it was still late.

You entered the passcode and opened the door. However, you were left surprised.

The lights were off but the living room was blooming with candle lights. The floor was covered with roses. There was a lingering scent of your favourite candle along with the mouth-watering aroma of the food.

You walked in and saw Jungkook standing in the middle of the living room. His face was glowing with a perfect toothy smile. “Happy 10th anniversary, Princess.”

You dropped your bag and ran into his arms. He chuckled as you jumped on him. He caught you, spinning you around. Yours and his giggles filled the happy place.

“Happy anniversary to you too, love,” you whispered in his ear. “You didn't have to do any of this.”

“But I wanted to,” he smiled. “Did I tell you that you are gorgeous?”

“About billions of times,” you giggled.

“Ah, still not enough,” he kissed your lips with passion. “I need to tell you that even more.”

“You will go crazy,” you cupped his face.

“I went crazy the day I actually looked at you, Baby,” his nose touched yours. “I love being crazy for you. I love being crazy in love with you. The day you let me have you was the day you made me go insane. I still cry thinking about how the fuck I got so lucky to have you. You are so intelligent, smart, and strong. You did everything for your parents and I don't know how I got you but it's all I ever wanted. Being in love with you makes me realize how addicting you are. All I want is you for me to settle my cravings.

A shy smile tugged at your lips as your eyes watered. “I love you so much, Jungkook. I have no words for it.”

“I see it, Love. I know it,” he hugged you tightly. “Come on, dinner is getting cold.”

In these years, you have come so far. You were no longer a streamer but a well-known Oncologist.

You worked hard towards your dreams and Jungkook stood by your side and supported you. You had nothing to worry about because he was there. Everything fell into one place.

Your father got operated on. Things turned out to be better. He was recovering. But he was fine. When you were settled enough, you asked them to come here. They did. It was the best feeling ever.

Through physical therapy, your father was able to move his body and showed a huge difference in a small amount of time. However, he was still suggested to keep the wheelchair around outside. He was weaker but better.

They were living at the apartment where you lived with Jungkook in University. Along with them, Jungkook’s parents moved into that apartment to help them around. It was fun to have them around, all four of them. They formed a perfect bond in a blink of an eye.

You both bought a new apartment when you found out about your pregnancy four years ago. Jungkook was over the moon and stuck by you like a monkey. He took care of you and the baby.

Two years later you gave birth to another baby. It was a complete family and nothing else was needed.

Jungkook always wanted two kids, a girl and a boy. Now that you had them, he was satisfied with his life. He bragged about you and the babies to everyone. Even at University, he would show baby videos to all of his colleagues.

He proposed to you for marriage right after you completed your degree. He was excited to make you his. He spent hours planning for the wedding that you both wanted.

Everybody teased you about how crazy he was for you.

In the beginning, everyone was disgusted and unaccepting of your relationship. However, everything settled when they saw how genuine you two were. It was as if you two couldn't breathe without each other.

When you became a Doctor, Jungkook cried happy tears and told you how proud he was and that he knew you were going to do big things in life.

That night he showed you so much love.

“Where are Seol and Jae?” you asked about your kids.

“I dropped them at our parents’. I wanted to have you all by myself. In the end, it is our anniversary,” he winked at you with a devilish look on his face.

“Is that so?” you smirked.

“After dinner, be a good girl and go into our room… naked and ass up for me,” his hand grabbed your ass and squeezed it as you looked at him with a slutty look.

“Yes, sir.”

…..

Taglist:

@veneziamadness @cheline @sansmilkbread @jayb17 @constantlydelulusional @8tinytings @tea4sykes @chimmisbae

Have a nice day/night💓

#bts #bts smut #bts jungkook smut #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff

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springalwayscomes · 2 years ago

Text

Closer: Too Close (Teaser)

Closer (Teaser) Closer Masterlist

Read Closer: Too Close (I) here

Read Closer: Too Close (II) here

Plot: To have each other close is something that you both always wanted, in a way or another. It’s just that… closer may be too close for you to handle.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Domestic, Humor, Friends to Lovers

Wordcount: 47.5k

Author’s Note: Hello! Here is the little surprise I told you about! Since Closer received a lot of love I decided to write more about these two, I hope you’ll like this💜 It will come out on Jungkook’s birthday, consider it a little gift!

If you want to be tagged in my taglist to read this work when it will come out and my others please let me know under this post or here! Also, asks and messages are always welcome, I would like to speak with you all from time to time!💜

You see his mouth open, eyes big and eyebrows cocked in a shocked expression, Namjoon’s word echoes if in his ears. Now, they definitely feel venomous.

You’re still his best friend.

«Wha- what? What happened?» you quiver.

Taehyung peeks over your shoulder, eyes glued to Jungkook’s face. Jimin and Eunji in front of you stare at the scene with their knowing expressions but they clearly don’t understand what’s happening cause no one knows the full version of the story. And Jungkook suddenly feels his stomach close up and his breath stuck as he looks at you.

«You- why… I can’t do this,» he shakes his head and brings his hands to his lap «I’m going out for a minute»

His chair chimes strident as he slides it backwards, and a second later he’s walking towards the door of the restaurant with his hands by his sides and everyone looking at him. You don’t seem to remember how to breathe for a bunch of seconds.

What happened? What-

«Oh, fuck» Jimin brings his hands on his hair, tugging at them nervously. Eunji gulps down her food, eyes on the empty spot beside you, Taehyung looks over at the door, Namjoon breathes in nervously and Jin and Hana look each other with eyes that seem to communicate words that you don’t grasp simply because you aren’t looking anywhere but at Jungkook’s dish, his chopsticks laid on the brims.

Yoongi clears his throat, looks over at her girlfriend, Hoseok peeks at you and a second later you’re storming out of the restaurant with their eyes on you and yours already trying to see Jungkook from the glass of the door.

Taglist: @p-i-e-d-p-i-p-e-r, @kaitlynlovesbm, @bytheinaya, @jub-jub, @minayas1998, @seoulrenebae-blog, @ppeachyttae, @gluk97, @jk97bam, @diorh0seokie, @gwsjungkookie, @moonlikemeh, @skzthinker, @jungkookieeee97, @eysloveskoosomuch, @sleepy-sae, @jjkw-7, @singularityjes, @spookybirdstarfish, @vvicaddiction, @kimchijeonjk

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oddinary4bts · 11 months ago

Text

Chasing Cars | ch 12 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: jungkook is stubborn and it leads to some sort of miscommunication?, reader feels cheated on, alcohol, clubbing, cursing, promises to exes fuck everything up basically

☆word count: 7.3k

☆a/n: new week, new angst-filled chapter :') I hope you guys still love it :') thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Saturday, May 4th

You’ve barely slept. Whenever you close your eyes all you can picture is Jungkook and Gabrielle. Gabrielle and Jungkook.

Just a friend from high school…

You don’t know why, but that lie is the one that hurts the most. Maybe because you thought he was opening up to you, telling you about his past, but he’d shrugged it off, lied about it like it was just second nature. It’s sour, bitter, and you think you might hate him for it.

You feel cheated on. You’re fully aware that you weren’t dating, that you were just a maybe, but you hate that it was taken from you just like that, in a stupid video call from your drunk brother…

It really does taste vile, bitter, sour, and everything in between.

Ria left earlier today. She had to work, but she told you to invite Yoongi or Nabi, to not isolate yourself. You don’t feel like seeing anyone - yes, you could be miserable with Yoongi, but you don’t want to hear the told you so that your friends will say in the aftermath of what happened last night.

Taehyung didn’t even text you once. You wonder if he saw you crying, before Ria hung up the call for you. If he did, you think he’s unbelievably cruel for not even texting you anything, but then again maybe that had been his plan all along. To show you Jungkook’s true nature, the one he’d hidden from you in the last few months.

Were there any other girls? If he’d so easily kissed his ex after just a few days in Paris, does that mean he might have easily done the same thing here, with other people?

You feel nauseous. Thinking about everything makes you feel nauseous.

As does the text that sits on your phone, sent early this morning, while you were in and out of your troubled sleep.

[4:23 am] JK: can we facetime tonight

You haven’t replied. You don’t even want to talk to him, or see his face. You don’t want those treacherous doe eyes to ever meet your gaze again and yet…

Yet you want some closure. You want to tell him off, to break him like he broke you, but that would be assuming he felt for you the way that you did. Which, you highly doubt since he kissed his ex like you’d never been in the picture to begin with.

You sigh, rubbing your face, trying to keep the tears in. They keep sneaking up on you, like you’re not done grieving for what could have been, and frankly, you don’t know if you’ll ever be. You reckon the first step in the right direction might be to seek that closure, to talk to him and be done with it, permanently.

You didn’t think there was a time when you’d have to be done with Jungkook. Everything that you were building, everything, now just rubbles that will slowly turn to dust.

And so you finally open your phone, heart squeezing uncomfortably as the conversation with him pops up. You ignore the texts from before yesterday night, those where you believed he was falling in love, too, and you reply,

[2:09 pm] You: sure at what time

You put your phone away after you press send, sighing deeply as if that might shake the weight of the world off your shoulders. You figure you should stop rotting in bed - it’s not like it’s helped make you feel better - and so you get up, heading to the kitchen.

You’re not hungry. You’re not hungry, but when you see the spicy ramyeon he bought to help train your spice tolerance, you can’t help but crave some. Because you don’t want to let him go, don’t want to let go of all of him. So you put some water on the stove, preparing the noodles as if that might change what happened last night.

It doesn’t. The only thing it does is make you realize that you’ve indeed improved your spice tolerance, as you eat and you barely even have to sniffle. It makes you sad, far too sad, because what was the point?

What was the point of developing a spice tolerance if you won’t eat with him anyway?

Tears pool in your eyes, and this time you don’t bother keeping them in. You let them flow freely, memories of him swirling in your mind. You think about every time he cooked for you - that first time on Valentine’s Day. You think about New York, about every night you’ve spent cuddled up in his arms.

There won’t be any new nights, any new memories. Everything that you and Jeon Jungkook once were is in the past now, to forever haunt you.

You push the noodles away. You’ve only eaten half of the bowl, but the thought of eating more makes you feel sick to your stomach. Instead, you drop your head on your arms on the table, body rocking with sobs.

You don’t even know why you’re crying so much. Why your body holds so much pain for what Jungkook did, when part of you had been expecting it all along. Yet you break and break, like you’re glass thrown from the roof of a building, exploding upon impact with the ground.

It takes a while before you stop crying, the post-tears clarity filling your brain. You straighten, wipe your cheeks and the snot on your upper lip, and then you get up. You throw away the rest of the noodles, and then walk back to your room, trying to hold onto the clarity.

You slow down in front of Jungkook’s door, imagining him to be behind. To never have gone to Paris…

It only makes you want to cry again, but you’re done crying.

You don’t want to be crying for someone that cheated on you.

You finally make it to your room. Your phone awaits you on the night table, face up to the ceiling so that you can see that Jungkook texted you multiple times. You steel yourself, grabbing your phone, and then read his texts.

[2:28 pm] JK: we’re at the restaurant rn [2:28 pm] JK: so maybe in an hour and a half? [2:29 pm] JK: we finally went to the catacombs today [2:29 pm] JK: you were right it’s hella creepy

It’s like he’s unaware that he broke your heart, that he destroyed the trust you had in him. It makes you think, did you imagine everything that happened yesterday?

Was it all just a nightmare?

You wish it was, but the tear stains on your sheets are proof enough that it truly happened.

[2:35 pm] You: call me whenever

You spend the next hour lying in bed, looking up at the ceiling, trying to chase him out of your thoughts. Trying to figure out what you’ll tell him: there’s no way you’ll pursue a relationship with him now that that happened. But maybe he’ll have an explanation, reassurance that not everything was a lie…

You don’t know if that would make you feel better. Maybe relieved in some way, yes, but the throbbing in your chest would likely not be lessened by such reassurance. You fear it’d be worse. It would mean losing something that was real, and you don’t know if you’d survive it.

When your phone finally rings, you consider not picking up. You consider ghosting him, disappearing from his life before he has the power to hurt you more, but you’re weak for him.

Far too weak, and you pick up after a few seconds.

He’s obviously called on Facetime, and the moment he comes into view, a soft smile on his lips, you feel like you’re breaking all over again.

The last time you saw those lips they were pressed against another girl’s mouth.

“Hey,” he greets you.

You can’t find it in you to speak around the lump in your throat, so you just offer him a tight-lipped smile. He frowns, eyebrows almost touching over his eyes.

“Is something wrong?”

Of course he’d notice, but… is he that oblivious? Anger cuts through the sadness, and you raise your eyebrows.

“Don’t you have something to tell me?” you ask.

His frown deepens. “I…” he trails off, and then something changes in his demeanour. The frown disappears, his lips part and his eyes widen, filling with fear. “You… Is this about Gabrielle?”

You laugh, so bitterly you taste it on your tongue. “Are you being serious?”

“Yes?” he lets out.

He looks terrified. It’s a strange sight, and it makes unease settle deep in your stomach.

“Tae called me last night,” you reveal.

“Oh.” He pulls on his piercings, eyes dropping. “Oh.”

“What the fuck was that, Jungkook?”

Your question strikes him deep. You see it in the way his shoulders drop, like he’s burdened with the weight of the world.

“Nothing happened,” he tries.

But he doesn’t meet your gaze.

“I saw you kissing her,” you spit. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”

“Peach…”

You scoff, yet the nickname brings tears to your eyes. “What the fuck was that?” you ask again, and you hate that your vision is turning blurry, hate the way that you are so completely, irreversibly weak for him.

“It really isn’t what you think it is,” he says.

“You spent the evening locked up in a room with her.”

He closes his eyes, and his phone shifts just enough so that you see his surroundings better. He’s in a park from the looks of it, much like he’d been when you’d facetimed on Wednesday.

“I promise it really isn’t what you think it is,” he insists. He meets your gaze, his big doe eyes so pained you almost want to believe him.

You sigh deeply, and a single tear falls on your cheek. You dry it with the back of your hand. “What was it then?”

A muscle feathers on his jaw as he clenches it, yet he remains silent. His lips stretch in a thin line, horror filling his gaze.

“I really thought…”

You can’t finish the sentence. I really thought we’d work. You can’t finish it, as your heart breaks and breaks and breaks until you’re back to where you were last night, struggling to breathe as you’d watched him kissing her.

“I made a promise to her years ago,” he admits, his voice wobbly. “I can’t tell anyone, but I swear, peach, it’s not what you think it is. I’d never do that to you.”

“But you did!”

His mouth opens and closes a few times, like he wants to say something but can’t.

“I can’t…” you trail off because you don’t want to say it.

You don’t want to be the one to kill the relationship when it hasn’t even started yet. Though you reckon he killed it when he kissed her.

“I can’t be with you,” you whisper, as if the words can’t be uttered aloud.

“Peach…”

“Stop calling me that,” you burst. “Stop fucking calling me that when you basically cheated.”

He frowns, his jaw clenching again. “We weren’t even exclusive.”

“Excuse me?”

Undiluted rage consumes every inch of your body, taking away the pain. All there is is the blaze of anger, and it burns and burns until you think you might turn to embers.

“I don’t know why I said that,” he immediately replies, eyes so wide he looks like a deer in headlights. He takes a deep breath and swallows as the movement of his Adam’s apple shows. “Please just trust me on this.”

“No, Jungkook,” you say. “I can’t trust you when it took you all of a few days with your ex to end up kissing her.” You close your eyes, shaking your head. “You told me Gabrielle was just a friend.”

“And she is!” he says. “She really is, peach. She’s nothing like you.”

“Why the fuck did you kiss her then?” you ask, blinking away tears the second you open your eyes again.

“She kissed me,” he answers. “She kissed me when Tae opened the door. I didn’t even know he was on the phone with you.”

“You’re aware that it sounds like lame-ass excuses?” You scoff, shaking your head again. “I can’t fucking believe you. I should have listened to Colton.”

You see the blow that it is to him. His waterline turns silver, and he clenches his jaw hard. His shoulders drop even more, and you think you hear the sound of breaking.

You doubt he deserves to be breaking over his own mistakes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Peach, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you as soon as I’m home, and then we can…”

“There’s no we,” you interject. “There’s no we anymore.”

“Please.” He’s begging. You never thought you’d see a day when Jeon Jungkook would beg for you, and it hurts fiercely, replacing the anger.

You’re on a roller coaster, and you don’t think you’ll ever be able to get down.

“What did you promise her, Kook?” you ask, your voice infinitesimally small.

He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I promised her I’d never tell anyone. So I can’t tell you.”

You’re crying again, though this time it sweeps in softly, gently. No rocking sobs, no shaking hands. Just tears, heavier than the sun, rolling down your cheeks.

“Then there is no we anymore,” you whisper.

Because you can’t be in the shadow of his ex. There can’t be secrets between the two of you - especially not when his parents want him to marry her.

“Peach, please.”

“Stop, Jungkook.” You shake your head as more tears spill from your eyes. “Stop.”

“But I can’t lose you,” he says, and you think you spy a tear on his cheek too.

It feels out of place, like it’s a waterfall in the desert, or maybe oxygen in space.

“I can’t be with someone who keeps secrets from me, Jungkook.” You pause, taking a deep breath in to give yourself courage.

“But it’s just…” he trails off, and you watch as defeat takes over him.

You wonder if he ever had to fight for anyone before. If he even has it in him to do it. Though you don’t think you’d want to be with him even if he fought for you.

Not after last night.

“It really is nothing,” he finishes, though he sounds just as unconvinced as you are and that, most of all, tells you that it is truly over.

You and Jeon Jungkook weren’t meant to be together in this universe after all. You should have known - you saw the signs and chose to ignore them. Maybe because your pink-tinted glasses coloured the red in such a way that it became the most beautiful colour you’d ever seen.

But now that the glasses are gone, you think, were you just blindsided all along?

“Have fun on the rest of your trip, Jungkook,” you whisper.

“Peach…”

“Do not ever call me that again,” you say softly, but you mean it.

You can’t afford him calling you that.

He tries your name, but you shake your head no. He curses underneath his breath, clearly unaware that he did it loud enough for you to hear, and then says, “So that’s it?”

You shrug, like you don’t care at all when in reality it’s taking everything in you not to break down right now. “That’s it,” you confirm. “We don’t even have to tell Tae.”

He nods. “Okay.”

Okay.

Everything, crashing down into a single flat word. Everything, ending on a note of heartbreak that rings and rings in your head until you think you might go insane.

You should have known you weren’t the muse behind the song, behind the poem and the art. You’d always been meant to break away, weren’t you?

You don’t remember hanging up. All you remember is staring at your reflection on the screen, and the sound of your breaking heart in the background.

*****

The thing with the end, it’s that it never really is just the end. The end of something is the beginning of something else, and sometimes the new beginning is better, sometimes it’s worse.

You think beginning your life post-Jungkook in a club might be good. The distraction of the flashing lights, loud music and alcohol is an effective one, yet you know it for what it truly is: escapism.

You don’t know how Ria and Nabi convinced you. You do like clubbing, but Nabi hates it. So maybe it was the fact that she suggested it, that she said it’d be fun that made you want to go. You even invited Yoongi, but Yoongi said he wanted to have a night in, so it’s just you girls tonight, and you reckon it has to be enough.

You follow Nabi past the coat check, waiting for Ria as she drops off her own jacket. A few seconds later Ria meets with you, and she hooks arms with you both to head towards the bar.

“Let’s get some shots before we go dancing,” she suggests, almost screaming so that you can hear her over the sound of the music.

“Dancing?” Nabi lets out.

“What do you think clubbing is for?” Ria teases, and you offer a half-hearted smile at that.

In other circumstances you likely would have laughed, but a smile is a good start, no?

“I don’t know,” Nabi grumbles.

You reach the bar, and you stand behind a group of four guys who are also waiting for shots, or so it seems. You glance at them, and your gaze meets that of the one who’s leaning against the bar, looking your way. You politely smile out of reflex, looking away a second later as you try to focus on Ria and Nabi’s now surprisingly heated discussion about the pros and cons of clubbing.

You think clubbing is good. Clubbing is empty mind, busy body, and right now it’s all you need.

It’s all you need not to run back to the Facetime call this afternoon, and the finality of Jungkook’s path in your life.

You close your eyes, take a deep breath and slowly let it out. Though your heart is aching - it hasn’t stopped since this afternoon - you’ve been good at ignoring it. At pretending that you’re fine, that you didn’t lose something that mattered to you far more than you should have let it to begin with.

You don’t think Jungkook deserved the devotion you had for him. Not when lying to you, when refusing to tell you the whole truth is more important to him. And you’ve gone down a spiral after the call. Stalking Gabrielle on social media, understanding why he kissed her in the first place.

If you were even a little bit gay, you too would probably want to kiss her. She’s attractive, elegantly so, in the same way that all people who are born into old money are. She’s from the same universe as Jungkook, has a beautiful smile and striking green eyes that you can only envy. Her hair - somewhere between blonde and red - is also amazing, probably because she has the money to maintain a good hair care and skincare routine.

You do have your own skincare routine too, but nothing that having a lot of money can pay for.

“Hey, you girls want shots?” one of the guys says, mostly in your direction.

Maybe because Ria and Nabi are still bickering next to you.

“Huh…” you let out, heart momentarily stumbling in your chest as you look at Ria next to you.

You nudge her, and she finally acknowledges the guy, staring him up and down once before smiling her ‘I’m on a mission’ smile. It works right away: the guy smirks, extending a hand for her to shake.

“I’m Jacob.”

She unhooks her arms from yours and Nabi’s, shaking his hand. “Ria. And this is Y/n and Nabi.”

You nod your head and wave weakly in greetings, and Jacob mirrors the motion before setting his gaze on Ria again.

“So, do you want them shots or not?” he asks.

She tilts her head to the side prettily. “Sure, we’ll take them.”

And that’s how you find yourself downing shots with guys that look straight out of a frat - Jacob, Chad, Elijah and Lucas. Lucas is the one who smiled at you earlier, and he easily finds his way to your side as you drink the shots.

After that first round, Lucas suggests a second one, and you all end up downing Jaggerbombs, the sweetness of the Red Bull contrasting the taste of the alcohol in just the right way. Ria suggests heading to the dancefloor next, and no amount of pleading gaze from you and Nabi makes her change her mind.

She truly is on a mission, and you think it might be partly because she needs to stop thinking about Seokjin. Not that you would ever tell it to her face though.

You end up dancing with Nabi, both of you slightly uncomfortable with the unknown males. In another world, you’d probably be dancing with Lucas, indulging in his company, but right now the last thing you want is to sidle close to a man.

Pretending isn’t making you forget how, just a little under a week ago, you were breathing Jungkook in like he could be the oxygen in your lungs.

You tense. You fucking tense, and Nabi immediately notices, leaning in to say in your ear, “Everything okay?”

You shrug. “I’d do without the guys, but I guess it was to be expected with Ria in a club.”

Nabi winces, offering you an apologetic look. “Do you want to go?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. You even snort at the way her features fall in disappointment. “Do you?”

“I don’t know,” she admits.

The song ends, blending into another one, and you pull her to the side as a girl walks behind her, parting your group.

“Do you want to go to the bathroom?” you suggest.

She pouts, looking up to the ceiling as if in deep thought, then nods her head enthusiastically. “Yup, let’s do that.”

You chuckle, and then you pull her towards Ria. Ria glares at you when you pull her away from Jacob, yet leans in when you make to speak to her.

“We’re going to the bathroom,” you tell her.

You don’t give her a choice. You grab her hand, pulling her behind you as Nabi leads the way to the bathroom.

The music isn’t as loud in the hallway, the red lights giving Nabi’s white top a tint that makes it just a little creepy. There’s already a line, and you stand at the end of it, turning to face Ria.

“Can we do no guys tonight?” you ask her.

Her mouth falls open. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t even think-”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure her.

She still looks apologetic, and it lingers for longer than just the bathroom trip - you have to pull her in a dance after you’ve taken more shots for her to stop looking forlorn. She’s reluctant at first, pouting, and you pull her closer.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“I’m really sorry,” she repeats. “I’m so dumb sometimes.”

You offer her a scolding look. “You’re not. Besides, it’s mostly for Nabi that I asked that.”

Ria glances towards Nabi, who’s dancing next to you but completely oblivious to the conversation. “Right.”

And that is that. Ria recovers her playful mood, and you dance and laugh and drink with your friends. You think Jungkook slips out of your thoughts on the fourth shot you down, and by the sixth, your mind is swimming in way too much drunk bliss to even feel the ache in your chest. It’s liberating - you feel like a bird who’s flying for the first time, and so you cling to the feeling as best as you can.

Nabi decides to leave before you and Ria, Namjoon picking her up on his way back from Yoongi’s place, where they apparently gamed together. You don’t care - you’re drunk enough to want to ride into the sunrise, to party until it’s light outside and the world has forgotten about your existence.

Luckily for you, Ria is one for such parties as well, and so you dance and dance and dance, taking another shot ten minutes after Nabi left.

This time, when Ria pulls you back towards the group of guys, you follow her grudgingly. You even let the dancing tide push you closer to Lucas, who leans in and says, “Hey you”, in a way that makes you think maybe true solace lies in another person’s lips.

It’s early. Far too early. But you’re also far too drunk to care, and so when he pulls you closer to dance with him, you let him do so. You let him sway your hips to the music, let him lean his forehead against yours. Your eyes flutter shut, and you breathe in the same air, and the rhythm is everlasting.

You sigh in contentment. You’re back in New York, back at that DJ show you’d attended with Jungkook. It’s his hands you imagine on your hips, his breath that you breathe in, his sweaty forehead that rests against yours.

It’s him. Because it’ll always be him.

He kisses you, and you kiss him back, hands grabbing at his shirt. He kisses you all wrong - the lack of piercings a stark contrast to your usual.

It hurts. It hurts, and the hole in your chest gapes open wide.

You pull away from the kiss, eyes snapping open to see Lucas’s startled face. His eyes are brown, but they’re not Jungkook’s shade. And he doesn’t have that small scar on his left cheek, or the eyebrow piercing. He doesn’t have the mole under his mouth, or the doe eyes that you fell in love with.

“Shit,” you let out.

“Did I do something I shouldn’t?” Lucas asks, and he lets go of you immediately, as if you burn him.

“No,” you reassure him, yet panic is swelling in you, like the tide when the moon is high. “I just…” You shake your head, letting out a sound you know to be a broken sob. “Just got out of a relationship.”

“Babe,” Ria says from behind you, stepping in between you and Lucas. “Everything okay?”

“I want to go home,” you tell her.

She doesn’t know that you mean to him. She can’t know - you can’t even allow yourself to think so. Yet you can’t help it, the alcohol inhibiting the control you had on your emotions until you’re crying on the dancefloor, just a heartbroken twenty-something who might have flown too close to the sun.

“Please,” you add when she doesn’t react, just looks at your tears like they are foreign entities.

But then she snaps out of her drunken daze, and she pulls you away from the dancefloor, away from the reminders of Jungkook. She helps you get your coat while you sniffle to the side, your eyes red-rimmed. And then she helps you get into the Uber home, holding your hand all the way.

She walks you up to your apartment, but the second you’re inside Jungkook is everywhere, and you need the loneliness. You need to be alone, you need to be able to indulge one last time. So you reassure her, tell her that you’ll be fine, that you can hang out tomorrow, and then you push her out the door.

It takes you thirty minutes to shower and take your makeup off, and another five minutes trying to convince yourself that you should sleep in your bed.

You lose the fight, and you fall asleep in Jungkook’s bed, crying softly as his scent wraps around you like the embrace of a ghost gone too soon.

Tuesday, May 7th

You’ve slept in Jungkook’s bed every day since Saturday, chasing him like you used to chase cars around his head. This morning, when you woke up, you made the bed, took one last look into this part of your life and then closed the door behind you like you’ll ever forget the hours you spent tangled up with him, fast asleep or losing yourself in him.

He’s coming back today. Taehyung is coming back today, and though you’d once wished for Tae’s return, now you’re dreading it. You don’t want to see him, don’t want to see Jungkook, or Jimin, or Sera, or even Ariane.

You want to rewind time to the week before Jungkook left, but life doesn’t work that way, does it?

You finish work late, a while after they’ve returned from their trip. And maybe you sit in the car for a long time also, dreading the moment you’ll have to go in.

[2:39 pm] bröther👽: just landed [3:47 pm] bröther👽: it was a shitshow but we’re home [3:48 pm] bröther👽: ari is going to stay at ours for a few days [3:48 pm] bröther👽: we’re planning dinner? are tacos ok [4:31 pm] bröther👽: yeah so it’ll be tacos

You haven’t replied to any of the texts. You want to tell him that you’re good, that you’ll spend the evening locked up in your room anyway, but you can’t bring yourself to do so. In some twisted way, you want to see Jungkook, want to see if this is affecting him the same way that it’s affecting you.

You reckon that might make you a bad person.

You sigh, leaning your head back against the headrest. A car passes in the street, its headlights illuminating you for a few seconds before it’s gone, the dim neon light of the streetlights returning.

You’re aware you can’t stay here forever. You have to go home, have to walk up the stairs and see Jungkook again. And so you take a deep breath, close your eyes for a few seconds so that you can steel yourself, and then you throw the car door open.

You can’t stop, can’t slow down. So you practically jog up the stairs after you’ve slammed the car door shut, locking it over your shoulder. And then you burst into the apartment, hands trembling as you still there to notice Taehyung and Ariane in the living room, lounging on the couch.

Jungkook’s bedroom door is closed, and you’re not sure if it’s a relief.

“Y/n!” Taehyung bursts, and he gets up from the couch to jog to you, immediately engulfing you in a bear hug.

You hug him back, fists closing around handfuls of his shirt, and you hide your face in his shoulder so that he can’t see the tears pricking at your eyes.

“Tae,” you whisper back. “How have you been?”

“Good,” he answers. “Happy to be back though.”

He pulls away, grabbing your purse from your hand so that he can drop it on the table by the door. You busy yourself with taking off your shoes, feeling shy under Ariane’s watchful gaze. She smiles at you when you look her way, and you smile back, offering her a small, polite nod. She gets up from the couch, walking your way so that Taehyung can properly introduce you.

She’s nice. She’s a warm person, and you feel the kindness oozing from her after just a few sentences exchanged. You know you’ll like her, and you’re relieved Taehyung finally found someone to make him forget his ex from high school.

As Ariane insists on cooking tacos for you all, you think she’s far better than Taehyung’s ex anyway. You do feel bad that she’s cooking at your apartment, but she says she loves cooking, and that you should just enjoy your brother’s return for now.

As she cooks, you and Taehyung sit at the table, telling each other stories from the last few months. Evidently you avoid mentioning Jungkook, instead focusing on what was going on in your friend group. Taehyung pulls Ariane into the conversation once in a while, and she admits she chose to do a semester in Paris because her grandfather was French, and he’s the one who chose her name.

It’s a comfortable conversation, a moment that almost makes you forget that Jungkook is hiding in his room, doing whatever it is that he’s doing. Thinking about him makes your heart strain in your chest, and you mindlessly massage the spot, as if that might chase the ache away.

What does help is when you decide to get up to actually help Ariane, and you take care of setting the table and preparing the lettuce. It busies your mind a little, and though you’re still speaking with Ariane and Taehyung, you manage not to let your thoughts wander back to a certain doe-eyed man.

You’re sitting down to eat when Taehyung finally mentions the elephant in the room, saying, “Should we ask JK if he wants anything?”

Ariane chuckles. “Feel free if you want to deal with him.”

You hope they don’t hear you gulp, and you innocently say, “What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s been weird for a few days,” Taehyung answers. “He’s been short with everyone, and he refuses to talk when we ask him what’s wrong.” Taehyung pauses, furrowing his brow. “Why?”

You shrug. “Just wondering.”

Can he hear your heart beating out of your chest? You definitely can, and it’s pumping in your ears, making you feel dizzy.

The knowledge that Jungkook hasn’t been doing well hurts far more than you expected it would. It’s like you just got stabbed right in the heart, and you’re bleeding out where you’re sitting at the table, on Taehyung’s left.

You avert your gaze, looking at the bowls on the table, eyes focusing on the steam rising from the cooked ground beef. You act like you don’t care - you grab a taco shell, and immediately start to prepare your meal, while a strange silence stretches.

It’s uncomfortable, awkward, and Taehyung flees by getting up and heading to Jungkook’s room. You hear him knocking on the door, and you can’t help but strain your ears as you try to hear what they’re saying.

“You hungry?” Taehyung says after you’ve heard the door opening.

“Not really,” Jungkook replies, and hearing his voice is shattering, wrecking, like the car you were riding just smashed into a wall at full speed.

Your eyes fill with tears, which you furiously blink away hoping that Ariane doesn’t notice. She’s luckily looking towards the hallway though, and you successfully clear your gaze before she turns again.

“I think he’s upset because of Gaby,” she comments as she starts making her own taco. “He started being like this when she stopped hanging out with us.”

Right. Ariane is Gabrielle’s friend. Her best friend even, if what Taehyung said is true.

You’re not so sure anymore if you’ll be able to get along with Ariane after all.

“Ah,” you flatly let out. “That sucks.”

She shrugs her shoulders. “He’ll get over it. Gaby said he’s the one that broke up with her anyway.”

You gulp around the lump in your throat, and though your hunger has entirely vanished, you bite into the taco so that you don’t have to talk.

It works, and you eat in silence as Taehyung walks back into the room, exchanging a knowing glance with Ariane. He sits back down between the two of you, and then he’s making his taco too, and though the atmosphere is awkward, you don’t have to partake in any more conversation.

You force yourself to eat a second taco, knowing Taehyung would tell you off if you don’t considering you usually eat at least three, if not more. It’s sickening, and you’re on your last bite when Jungkook appears in the door frame.

Your gazes immediately meet, and everything seems to stop around you, to disappear from existence. There’s just you and him, and you take in his dishevelled appearance, the dark circles under his eyes and the hollowness of his gaze.

All light has gone out from his eyes, replaced by shadows and darkness you recognize far too well.

They’re haunting your own eyes, too.

“I’m heading home for the summer,” he tells no one in particular, though his gaze doesn’t leave yours.

Like he’s trying to take everything in one last time, trying to commit you to memory like you’re doing with him right now.

Though you don’t want this to be a memory. You want to remember his lips on your skin and the light in his eyes and the way he’d always hold you close. You want to remember what it felt like to be his – or to believe you were. You don’t want any of the heartbreak, but it takes over everything, and your gaze drops to the table.

“What?” Taehyung lets out. “Right now?”

Jungkook nods. “My father needs help with his company.”

“We literally got home like six hours ago,” Taehyung points out. “Shouldn’t you get some sleep first?”

“I’m good,” Jungkook says. “It’s not that long of a drive.”

It actually is. It’s nearly four hours, and you highly doubt Jungkook’s father asked for help. Or maybe he did. Maybe Jungkook lied about his strained relationship with his family to get you to…

You stop the train of thoughts. He didn’t lie. You were there, and you saw it with your own two eyes.

You force yourself to meet his gaze again - his eyes haven’t left you. He offers you the saddest smile you’ve ever seen on his lips, and his gaze fills with words unsaid. You can almost taste them on the sharp inhale of breath you take, and you want to tell him to stay.

You want to tell him that you’re in love with him. But it’s too little too late, and so you swallow the confession, shove it down until you can forget its existence.

He nods, like he knows then that you truly are over, and then he says, “I’ll see you guys soon.”

You watch him go - your heart goes with him, and you feel like you’ll cave in on the emptiness in your chest.

Taehyung follows him to the door, leaving you alone with Ariane. This time, she doesn’t miss the agony on your features, and she asks, “Are you okay?”

You sit back in your chair, nodding once, yet you answer, “I don’t know, I feel sick.”

She offers you a kind smile. “You don’t need to eat anymore,” she reassures you. “You’ve worked all day, maybe you just need some rest.”

“Maybe,” you repeat flatly. “Let me just clean up the table.”

She stops you with a hand on your wrist. “Tae’s not done, I’ll get him to take care of it. Just go to bed.”

You nod curtly, and you hope she doesn’t see the silver lining your gaze, threatening to spill over. You do put your plate away in the sink, to be washed later, and then you head to your bedroom, seeking the cool reprieve of your own safe haven.

You can’t help yourself, glancing towards the door as you leave the kitchen. Jungkook is already outside, and Taehyung is speaking with him leaning against the door frame. You think it’s a relief you can’t see Jungkook from here - you’d probably have broken down right then and there, and you doubt you would have survived the embarrassment.

You lean against the door of your bedroom once you’re finally in, and you take a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut. When Jungkook’s pained features appear behind your eyelids, you immediately open your eyes again.

There’s a box on your bed, next to a folded piece of paper. Curiosity replaces the agony in your chest momentarily…

Until you see your name on the folded piece of paper, and realize what this is.

Tears fill your eyes so quickly this time around that you can’t stop them, and they fall freely on your cheeks as you take a wobbly step forward.

He’s left you a letter. And the box is clearly a jewelry box - there’s something so strange about the sight that it breaks your heart all over again, until the throbbing in your chest is so stark you barely can feel the paper as your hands reach for it, unfolding it carefully.

Your vision is blurry behind your tears, and as you see he’s written lines and lines of words for you, you let out a broken sob as you sit on your bed.

It takes you five minutes before you’re actually able to read, and you read it so many times you think you know the letter by heart.

Hey peach, I know you asked me not to call you that. I promise this is the last time, and I’ll never bother you with that name again. I just didn’t know how to start this letter… I hope you’ve been doing okay. The last few days have been shit for me, and I feel really fucking guilty for everything. I wish it’d never happened, I wish I’d come home to you so that we could tell Taehyung about us… but as you said, there is no us anymore. Thank you for the few months we spent together. You taught me a lot about myself, and I really enjoyed spending time with you. I’ll look back fondly on the memories I have of us. I really want to apologize. For everything that I did. I wish I’d never gone to Paris. I’m sorry that I left, and that I let old promises to Gabrielle ruin what was between us. I’m sorry I wasn’t more upfront about how I felt for you too. It was all just so new to me, and I thought we had a long while ahead of us to figure everything out… I’m sorry that I was wrong. I don’t expect this letter to change anything. I just wanted to let you know how I feel, and I don’t think I would be able to speak to you face to face. Maybe that makes me a coward, but it is what it is. I got you a gift in Paris, before things went to hell. I couldn’t bring myself to return it or keep it, so I hope you enjoy it. You don’t have to keep it either, I just wanted you to still have it. Finally, I hope you have a nice summer. I hope you have fun, and I hope you find someone that treats you the way that you deserve. Someone Taehyung would approve of hopefully! You deserve it more than you can imagine. Take care, Jungkook

Your gaze is blurry behind the tears again, yet you manage to blink them away. You think, maybe you’ve run out of tears. Maybe you’ll go dry and desiccated like you died in the desert, and you think, maybe you deserve it.

You’ve never received a love letter. And though Jungkook didn’t confess, you feel like perhaps you’re holding his heart in your hands like he’s holding yours in his. Perhaps he did care for you, perhaps Gabrielle really was just a momentary mistake.

You take a deep breath in, and though it’s shaky, it does ease some ache in your heart. Not everything - the hole is still gaping wide open, and you reckon only time can fix it.

You put the letter down, picking up the jewelry box instead. Your hands are still trembling, yet you manage to open it to reveal a thin, shiny gold chain. The pendant that sits on the velvety cushion breaks you all over again, yet you don’t hesitate before putting it on.

Your fingers, suddenly steady, secure the necklace around your neck, and then your hand falls to the pendant.

The peach sits light in your palm, a reminder of what your relationship with Jungkook should have been.

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:'''''') the letter right? Did I cry writing it? Yes I did. Did I cry the fifteen times I've reread it? Yes, I also did. What did you guys think of this chapter?:')