#jungkook x noona

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

(seven) days a week, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: It only takes seven days (a week) for Jeon Jungkook to get you in his bed to fuck you right. And showing up in weird places. And kissing in the rain. He's crazy. Okay, it's kinda complicated.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language (reader swears a lot); strangers-to-lovers; vague allusions to a loveless childhood and bad parenting (no specifics); JK might be insane and you do tell him that he is; slight crack; fluff; smut (fem reader, fucking with clothes on and off, m and f-receiving oral, light hair pulling, fingering, nipple play, choking, penetrative sex, handjob); non-idol!BTS – persistent!Jungkook x noona, def tsundere!reader lol ft instigator-cupid!Park Jimin setting them up

this directly follows Jung Kook's 'Seven' MV, so make sure to watch it (although I'm sure you've seen it if you wanna read this lmao)

--

monday.

“What? Something on my face?”

You stared at him and he stared back. Wide eyes, slightly parted lips, the look of caught prey and all. You had your hands in front of you, long fingers laced together, elbows on the table. You probably shouldn’t have scowled like that. That was a bit rude, especially to someone you didn’t know well, but this guy had been staring at you all night and barely speaking to you, even when prompted, so you were getting both impatient and annoyed at accepting this invitation.

“You wear… a lot of jewelry,” Jeon Jungkook said out loud, with awe.

You looked down at your hands. Well. The rings, the bracelets, even the earrings on both your ears, all sterling silver or white gold. You had even swapped out the lower lobe piercing for a pair of dangling dice earrings with grey freshwater pearls. You liked the cooler tone to bring some death to your warm-toned skin.

“Yeah. Is that a problem?” Your low voice had an edge of guarded to it.

A quick, nervous head shake. “No. No, it’s cool. I’ve never seen a girl wear so many chunky rings like that. I didn’t think I’d like it either, but then I saw you.”

You opened your mouth to snap out a comeback and then his words hit you.

There was no doubt that Jeon Jungkook was cute. Black-brown hair with a lustrous quality. Bright, expressive dark brown eyes. Slightly rounded cheeks with a distinct jawline. He said he had, and you could see, tattoos and piercings, something you quite liked but not a requirement. Built body, in the way that people where when they were committed to taking care of their physical appearance. Not so much in vanity, but in the way that matched how they felt that they should look in their head. Respect for that. But, in this chance that was what you had expected to be his, Jungkook didn’t taken it.

He looked the part.

Didn’t act it, though.

Black blazer, matching trousers. White t-shirt. Dressy but not too much. To be honest, the outer appearance didn’t matter much to you. It actually mattered the least. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Really. You were often told that you had too little patience for people, but, come on!

This conversation was awkward.

Hah.

You turned as you sensed a lively presence re-entering your icy atmosphere. Hmph. The actor playing Cupid in the instance. He looked the part too. Baby blue dress shirt with the top buttons undone. Ivory slacks, neatly pressed. Black hair perfectly curled over his forehead, framing an angelic face. Full lips forming an infectious smile that made his eyes disappear as small hands folded away the receipt and tucked his card back into his wallet.

“Ah, the waitress and I had a cute little chat,” flirty Park Jimin chuckled, giving you a little eyebrow wiggle. You rolled your eyes at him. “Did you guys have a nice talk while I was gone?”

“Um…?” Jungkook started, nearly afraid to glance at you for some support.

You gave Jimin a deadpan stare. “You trying to get her number?”

“Me? No, no!” he waved his hands, sitting back down to lean in. “She gave it to me anyway though.”

Figures Park Jimin would introduce you to a guy and also get the number of someone else in the restaurant. You deliberately hadn’t answered Jimin’s question, but he hadn’t noticed.

Jungkook, however, did.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him deflate a little and you winced in unease, not sure if you should have avoided it, but at this point the waitress had returned, lashes aflutter and gushing about how they just had to try to fried ice cream and it was on the house, as long as Jimin promised to come back, right? Right?

Jimin promised of course, of course, with a big smile.

You completely ignored him and picked up one of the pieces of fried ice cream – mango, it seemed, by the color – and placed it on one of the small plates before setting it right in front of Jungkook.

He perked up and gave you these big, hopeful eyes.

You didn’t say anything but felt your cheeks flush and your gaze shift, putting on an expression of reluctant apology. After a half second, you bowed your head just a bit, shaking off the moment and serving yourself before serving Jimin.

What?

Damn flirt didn’t even notice.

-

tuesday.

“You didn’t like him?”

“I mean, there’s nothing to like or dislike. He barely said anything. Also, Jimin, I told you, I’m not really a relationship person,” you sighed into your phone, walking quickly to the train station. “I don’t want to give this guy the wrong idea about me. He didn’t really strike me as a fuck-around-and-find-out kinda guy.”

“You said you would change your mind for the right person though.”

Sometimes you thought Jimin argued with you just to argue.

“Yeah, and I don’t even know what kind of person he is because he didn’t say shit,” you barked back to that snippy tone on the other side of the line. Some idiot honked at you and you resisted the urge to flip him the bird. Maybe he wasn’t honking at you. The hanging out the window and catcalling could be to the couple walking next to you.

You highly doubted it.

Also, maybe you just wanted to give someone the middle finger because you couldn’t show Jimin right now how much you deeply appreciated him.

“Jungkookie’s just super shy, but wait a minute and he’ll make you his.”

You rolled your eyes. Damn bad habit that you were forming ever since you became friendly with this mildly infuriating angel. “He’s not making me do anything.”

“I’m telling you; he suits you perfectly. You’re being stubborn and not giving him a chance. Anyway, I gave him your number, so don’t worry!”

“Wait, you did wha–”

The roar of the subway train below cut you off.

“Oop, you’re at the station. You’re breaking up! Can’t hear you, byeeeeeee!”

You twitched as Park Jimin hung up on you.

Asshole.

You pulled your phone away from your ear and pulled up the app to pay for your ticket. Paused for a second. New message, unknown number. Then it was your turn, so you hovered your phone screen, heard the beep, and hurried to the correct train line, finding the one to take you home. It was hectic even now, still within the dregs of rush hour, so you didn’t even think to check for the content of the text until you sat down with a big sigh, somewhat of a fwump with your distressed bomber jacket and baggy cargo pants, both made of thick black fabric. The side of your jacket slid off, exposing your bare shoulder and tight white tank top.

The guy standing about a meter away from you snuck a glance in your direction.

You tucked your tongue in your cheek and yanked your jacket back in place with the hand that was holding your phone. Noticed the screen flash, reminding you of the notification.

Fuck it.

Pressed your thumb and your phone unlocked.

Hey, it’s me. Jeon Jungkook… I wanted to say that I’m sorry about not talking that much last night. I was really nervous because you were so pretty and self-assured. I was so impressed that nothing I could think of seemed like a good thing to say, so I blanked out. I’m very sorry. I hope it is okay for me to text you like this.

An essay.

You paused for so long that you felt your cheeks heat.

The fuck?

You frowned at yourself. For some reason, even though he hadn’t talked much, you could hear the text in your head as if Jungkook was speaking to you directly. Sense the anxiousness in the typed words. See those big eyes gazing right at you with a mixture of curiosity and wonder and what-ifs. You sighed, feeling defeated. It would simply be rude to not reply.

I apologize for being too intimidating.

You sent it before thinking. Aw, shit. That was a bit short, wasn’t it? Damnnit. You saw the sending quadlet of dots spinning slowly, struggling due to you being underground. Fuck. If you sent another message now, it might be out of order and that would just get confusing. And what else could you add? Oh, geez, you didn’t even confirm it was you. The conversation with Park Jimin must have scrambled your egg brains.

The train roared out of the tunnel.

All of a sudden, the message sent and a reply instantly popped up. Actually, a serious of bubbles, rapid-fire like bullets. The confirmation must have lagged.

You’re not intimidating at all! Well… not in a bad way. In a sexy way. I mean, in a good way! In a cool way, like you’re not afraid to say what you wanna say. I really admire that in a person, so I really admire that in you. Sorry, that was weird, wasn’t it? I made things weird… ㅠ.ㅠ

You blinked slowly at the messages. It was pretty clear Jungkook had sat there and pondered over the first message for quite a while and these subsequent ones were stream of consciousness spewing. Honestly, kind of funny. Heh. You could sort of imagine it. Maybe he hadn’t expected you to respond right away. Hm, you wondered if he had hoped you would. He really was trying hard, huh. For what? What was the reason?

You tucked your tongue in your cheek and responded anyway.

Oh, you’re definitely weird, but you never know. I might like that. What’s the outfit of the day, Jeon Jungkook?

Were you fishing for a photo? Of course. He would probably scramble to put on a good outfit to impress you. To your surprise, the downloading image icon popped up instantaneously, spinning, spinning. You tilted your head, surprised at the prompt obedience. He must have snapped a pic right away when you asked. It was taking time to load though. You saw some people getting off the train and looked up, checking the stop. Oh, yours was next.

You took care not to look directly at anyone around you, keeping your sling bag in your lap.

Then you looked down to the inquisitive dark brown eyes of Jeon Jungkook with messy black hair and a black leather jacket. White t-shirt. It was a selfie, so you couldn’t see the pants. It was something borderline vain about the angle, but also a seek of approval in that parted mouth, silver ring and stud dotting the edge of the right side, flash of white teeth and slight bite of the left side revealing a small mole at the center underneath his lower lip.

You twitched.

Bold, wasn’t he?

You weren’t sure if you liked it – well, you didn’t mind it, you just weren’t sure if you like-liked it, what was he trying to play at here, trying to get your heart to beat fast or something, hmph – and you clutched your phone pointedly, your rings clacking as you prepped your fingers to type back… something, be honest here… and your fingers wavered.

Shaking a little.

You let out a breath you hadn’t known you had been holding.

Oh, the pants are blue jeans, but I’m out right now so there’s no mirror to show you.

You heard your stop being called and stood up automatically, filing behind other people getting ready to step off, the train slowing down, everything slowing down, finding yourself staring at Jungkook’s expression in the photo, why were you staring, shifting your eyes quickly, then back, it wasn’t like Jeon Jungkook could see you, ugh, this was so annoying.

Do you want to see? I can take another photo when I get home.

You let out a frustrated exhale that no one else around you could understand. Maybe not even those closest to you would get it. But you knew what it meant, and knowing also frustrated you.

Being self-aware was a bitch.

You finally sent your answer.

I much prefer this look on you than the blazer. Is this your normal fashion style?

You had worn a flowing white blouse and floaty black skirt the night before at dinner, but it was not your typical style. Well, it was, but it was one of your work outfits since you had come straight from the office. Something you wore to not get in trouble with the dress code and knowing you would have to meet up with people later. Sometimes you were a little riskier if you were feeling frisky, but Jimin had told you to look nice for the friend he was introducing you to.

But maybe it would have been better to look more you.

Then again, the restaurant was pretty high end. They might not have let you in.

Oh. Yeah. Hahaha, I wore the blazer because Jimin-ssi told me to look nice for you. I guess this is street-style? I don’t know… I’m not fashionable, I only wear what I think is cool or comfy. What about you?

You strode out of the train and briskly walked to the elevator, muscle memory already knowing where to go, typing back. Pausing when you saw the vending machine. A green tea would be nice right now.

You veered off course and headed to stand in line.

I think my friends would describe my style as dark and strong. They’re always telling me I should dress more feminine or at least in less black, but one of my core traits is not listening to shit people say. And swearing.

You tapped your card and made your selection. Waited out the whirr and clunk. Didn’t pay much attention to the world around you. It was a typical day, people passing by, no warning feelings. And, besides, your phone was much more interesting right now.

You did not just think that.

You scowled at your reflection in the glass of the vending machine before picking up your drink.

I hope I get to see you sometime soon so I can appreciate it. :)

You raised an eyebrow at your phone as you ticked open the can and started walking again, taking a crisp sip. It was slightly irritating that he was better at flirting over text than in person. Or maybe it had just been the circumstance. Come to think of it, it would have been weird if he did with Jimin right there, although you were sure Jimin wanted to be there to witness whatever unfolded. The awkwardness was probably just as entertaining to him as it would be if Jungkook had been more forward.

Hmph.

What was more irritating was that you weren’t instantly annoyed by it.

Hmmmmph.

Are you saying you aren’t intimidated by me, Jeon Jungkook?

You hurried home, following the streetlights, breathless, not because you were running, but because you wanted to be home so you could be alone with…

I’m saying I like feeling your effect on me in person.

Him.

-

wednesday.

The next time you saw Jeon Jungkook, you were groaning and setting your forehead on the edge of washing machine, screaming internally. Would have banged it against the metal if you weren’t going to lose a substantial number of brain cells. You were going to pay cash because you wouldn’t get that card surcharge if you did but, of course, of course you had accidentally shorted yourself and pocketed the wrong amount.

Fuck!

Now you were already at the laundromat. Walk back home and lug your shit to and back to get the right amount? Or just forget it and pay the extra charge? You had already put the detergent in. Fuckity fuck fuck. Technically you could go home, it wasn’t that far, but, ugh, it was extra annoying today because you had slept late and now you were grumpily doing your life responsibilities. Come back a different day? No, you had specifically told yourself to get off your ass and get that pile washed. Damnnit, if you hadn’t slept late and scrambled your egg brains, this wouldn’t have happened!

But you had been talking to Jeon Jungkook.

Ending the conversation had been more difficult than you expected. You gritted your teeth, feeling stupid for pulling such a teenage move. Still young, huh? Young and stupid.

Grr.

You heard the metal slide of the money drawer being closed and then an approval ping!

You jumped back, freaked out at the thing you hadn’t done, and then snapped your head to the sudden presence next to you. Dark blue jeans with giant holes at the knees. Gray hoodie sliding off a built right shoulder. White ribbed tank top. Messy black hair. A piercing, no, two on the right side of open lips.

Big, round, dark brown eyes.

You noticed he was wearing a few silver rings himself.

“Um… hi? I noticed you were short a little so I just…” Jeon Jungkook trailed off, giving you a hopeful look.

You gawked at him.

“What are you doing here?”

Ouch. A little too snappy. Jungkook faltered, those peepers shifting. “Ah… well…”

You bit your tongue and reeled it back. “Sorry. I didn’t expect to see you, is all. Obviously, you came here to wash your clothes like everyone else.”

He reached up and scratched the back of his head nervously. Wait. Why was he looking at you like that?

“W-Well, actually… Jimin-ssi told me you normally come here on Wednesdays to do laundry and I was nearby so I figured., maybe, I’d just check if you were here…”

You stared at him.

“You’re stalking me?”

“N-No!” Jungkook sputtered, waving his hands frantically even though you hadn’t raised your voice.

There was a bristle to your tone though. Indignation and frigidity you couldn’t hide. You frowned, narrowing your eyes, cornering him with your gaze. There were only a few people on this slow day, which was why you picked Wednesday to do laundry, but all the patrons had AirPods or other earbuds in, busying themselves with their shoving of clothing in and out of the washers and dryers. No one was going to interrupt anyway.

Not their business.

“I… I…”

“And how did you recognize me anyway? My head was down,” you remembered, advancing on him, and Jungkook took a step back, swallowing hard. Your outfit was baggy too, dark denim jacket and jeans, the tight black tank hidden by the bulk.

“I couldn’t forget how beautiful your hair is,” he mumbled out quickly, looking a little too mesmerized by your fierceness. Forget that. “And your hands were on the edge of the washer. Your rings. The star chain bracelet you wear. I…”

He was fixated on your collarbones and the thin black choker around your neck.

Or lower.

“Oi! My face is up here,” you hissed, snaping your fingers and making him jerk his head. He had stopped backing up though. You pointed at him, somewhat rudely. Actually, very rudely, but whatever. “What do you mean, check if I was here? And who told you? That idiot. I’ll kill him.”

And why was Jungkook looking at you like that?

Like he thought you were hot when angry.

He better stop that shit because you were losing your irate demeanor for some fuckin’ reason.

“I texted you almost all night. That wasn’t enough?” you half-growled, half whispered.

A tiny head shake.

Ah, shit.

You deliberately did not think that was cute.

“I liked it so much that I…” Oh no, oh no, not that honest tremble and deep gaze into your eyes. “I was hoping I could talk to you again, in person, more bravely this time.”

You opened your mouth to sink in that verbal bite and nothing came out.

The entire laundromat could flood right now and you wouldn’t even notice because you were staring at Jeon Jungkook and wondering if this audacity was freaking annoying or freaking impressive. Not this damn guy within two days leaving you speechless. Well… actually, no, never mind the technicalities.

“Are you even thinking before you do things?” you grumbled, not yet backing down.

Jungkook stuck his hands in his hoodie pockets suddenly. Hm? Nervous and shaking? You couldn’t tell, but you watched him closely, observing his body language, your eyes following those lines.

“Mmmm…” He bit the left side of his lower lip. “No?”

You strongly resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

Shy smile greeting you, accompanying the lip bite.

“I’m just listening to my heart.”

Now you visibly cringed. “Don’t say stuff like that.” Looking away slightly, somehow unable to meet those honest eyes.

“Why? You don’t like it?” Genuinely curious.

“You don’t mean it.” He did mean it and you could see that he meant it but you did not want to admit that you knew that he meant it. Yeah. “You barely know me. We only talked over text.”

“But you gave me thoughtful, frank answers. I don’t believe that you were being dishonest,” Jungkook protested, following you over to the tables a few steps away from the washing machines. You dragged your laundry bag with you and kept your voice down.

“I told you, I’m a straightforward an honest person. I won’t lie to you. And I won’t hesitate to cut you off if you lie to me,” you reminded him.

He nodded. You wanted to shake him and yell at him to stop giving you those eyes. “So I just decided to do what I wanted to.”

You cocked your head at him in disbelief. “You didn’t think you went too far?”

What was with that mischievous smile? “I’m the all-in type.”

You let out a puff of air.

“Also, you haven’t told me directly that you don’t like it,” Jungkook pointed out, leaning toward you, smiling.

You gave him a deadpan stare. “You don’t get me,” you said back flatly.

Those dark brown orbs sparkled. “That’s okay. I don’t have to get you to think you’re cool, clever, and stunning.”

Your eyebrow twitched.

“And why do you say that? Because you see how people look at me? Because you enjoyed my useless facts and tangents last night? Because you think with your dick?” You added the last question with bite, leaning forward too, having enough of this, not really him but…

The fact that you didn’t want to tell him to fuck right off.

Silence.

Jungkook was staring into your eyes.

“The shape of your eyes is so… perfect.”

You felt your ears heat.

He raised a finger and traced the air right in front of your left eye, the scent of his clean cologne drifting in your direction. “The way they sharpen in the inner corner, like a bird of prey… And your irises are so dark and striking…”

You grabbed his finger out of the air.

“Don’t be… weird.”

Why did you pause? Hello? No way you’re being like this over this guy right now.

You pointedly pulled his hand down, pinning it to the table. “Pay attention.”

Jungkook was giving you this dreamy, hazy expression. “Huh? What were you saying?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You can’t even listen.”

He leaned in closer and you caught a whiff of that delicious cologne again. “Sorry. I will. Say it again, please. I’ll listen carefully.”

The fuck were you saying again? The lights of the old laundromat flickered but you barely noticed. A common occurrence in these ol’ mom-and-pop places. And, besides, you were staring at this determined, patient smile and mentally shoving down those butterflies that you definitely weren’t feeling, nope, violently compacting those distracting internalizations into a tiny, windowless box.

“You don’t seem very good at listening,” you finally said, tight and even.

“I am,” he insisted softly. “I promise.”

“I’m too much for you.”

Or was Jungkook too much for you?

“I’m offering all of me,” he whispered to the shared air between you and him. “It might not be enough so I’ll be to work hard and do my best.”

What was he so earnest for? You hesitated, the edges to your hard demeanor softening. You didn’t want to trust stuff like this. It was so easy to get burned and you wanted to be the one to do the burning. And how could you trust people? Even you didn’t say everything out loud. Some things you could say and some you couldn’t say. It was too much trouble to believe in someone.

You had never received unburdened kindness when you were younger.

“We’re not on the same page.”

Jungkook tilted his head. “Aren’t we? But you’re reading me easily and I’m doing my best to learn about you too.”

Your shoulders released the tension. “Don’t pretend with me. It’s clear you’re a relationship kind of guy. And, while I’m not against them, I can’t deliver the same kind of devotion you are willing to give. Can’t you see that?” You removed your hand from his, not realizing it was still there.

His fingertip traced a line on the back of your hand.

Sparks raced along the base of your head.

You remained stern, feeling heavy and hot in your clothes.

“Why do you say that? You don’t think you’re loyal?” he asked very sincerely.

Your eyes narrowed. “Of course, I am. If I like you in that way and you asked me to bury a body, I’d already be digging the grave. But I’m not a flowers-and-chocolate kind of girl. That’s not how I show affection.”

You had no idea how far your clothes were in the cycle. The whole world could crash down and you would still be staring at Jungkook and his body language. His shoulders slouched a little more so he could look up at you with those pleading eyes.

Inhale still in your throat.

“Then, do you not like me?”

Say something.

But you didn’t say anything at all, gazing down at Jeon Jungkook and wondering why you couldn’t get through his thick skull that you were a bad decision. Honestly? Honestly, fine, it was because you grew up with parents that never liked each other nor their kids. Honestly, it was because you grew up too fast and with too much independence to not see the filthiness of the world. Honestly, it was because you saw the finicky innate nature of humanity of never devoting themselves to anything, much less anyone, and why would they?

People were crazy.

Call it personal experience.

You sighed.

“Jungkook, I’m not gonna lie to you. I fuck before I care about anybody. I’m only living to get my pleasure and not take care of anyone, okay? I’m barely keeping my own head together. I’m blunt. I don’t need or want romantic gestures. I just want dick. There. I’m not a good person.”

He was smiling.

Aw, shit.

“I must be favored to know you.”

You twitched, tucking your tongue in your cheek to avoid scowling, which was pretty much scowling anyway, so you failed spectacularly.

“Also, you haven’t said you don’t like me,” Jungkook pointed out. Infuriatingly. “Because it’s not true and you don’t lie. Right?” He said your name with a little too much sweetness and knowing.

You yanked your hand out of his and shoved his hard, muscular chest. He bounced back, grinning a little too happily. You told yourself to hate it and you didn’t. Fuck. “What are you even still doing here? Gonna fold my clothes for me or something?”

The energy at being offered a household chore was disturbing. “Oh! I can! I’m very good at doing laundry. And washing dishes. And cleaning. I like doing that stuff.”

“Sure, you do,” you puffed sarcastically,

“I do,” Jungkook insisted, coming around the table. “And I’m good at it.”

You scrutinized him up a down. “Yeah? Because you don’t know where else to put all that energy of yours?”

His lips parted but all he did was gawk at you. Oop. Right on the money. You were liking this expression a little too much. Maybe it was time to lower these walls a bit. After all, it didn’t seem like Jungkook was going to go away any time soon. He was pretty harmless anyway.

“I could drain you in a night,” you chuckled, smirking.

The tips of his ears were getting red at your lowered tone.

“You think you could keep up?”

-

thursday.

Ugh, it was one of those days that fuckin’ suuuucked.

Woke up late and had to rush to get dressed and bounce, then got to work and some shit was going down about missing documents and people moving papers they shouldn’t have, forcing you to play manager because everyone else had no goddamn spine to fix anything. This department would be a disaster without you. To top it all off, you had people stalling, keeping an irrelevant conversation going, leading you on a wild goose chase with no funny honking – turns out the documents were in some random copier right behind you, for fuck’s sake – and you had a very strong inkling it was because of what you looked like.

Which was fine.

Unless you were actually trying to do your job.

Then, one of your side dishes you had brought for lunch had gone off, so you ended up slightly less full than you wanted to be, and you forgot your jacket at work, leaving it hanging on the back of your chair in your rush to leave, and the train halted several stations before your stop because there was some emergency maintenance or some shit.

Fuckity fuck.

It wouldn’t be so annoying it if wasn’t so windy, but it was and you were wearing a sheer sweater with splashes of jewel-toned colors and a longline black sports bra under it – you had worn your jacket half-zipped until your boss had left in the middle of the day and your co-workers didn’t care how you looked, the dress code was stupid anyway – and black jeans, mid-rise. The rules were more about being covered up rather than being professionally dressed.

The job was primarily sitting at a desk and sorting documents, did it matter how you looked?

Or maybe you just broke the rules a little because you were a rebel.

Your stomach growled angrily and you told it to shut the fuck up.

You stood on the corner halfway between work and home, debating on whether or not to do some damage. The problem was you didn’t have any of the usual bad habits most people had. You didn’t drink, so getting stupid drunk and getting thrown out of the noraebang was out of the question. Also, you couldn’t sing. But, anyway, you barely took medicine, let alone know where or how to procure the illegal fun stuff, so that was also out. You didn’t have a sweet tooth either so you couldn’t down a whole cake with gusto, although that sounded like a great way to go.

You sulked.

You had an addiction, but you just stared at the names in your phone and felt guilty. Guilty! For what? For some guy you met literally less than four days ago? Ugh, no, this couldn’t be you right now. Seriously? Seriously? You crossed and stalked up the block, not yet deciding what to do so you kept walking until you figured it out during this internal battle. You had to keep this guy at a distance. Okay, yes, you could admit you liked him.

And that was the problem.

If you didn’t really like him, you could just fuck him and establish those hard boundaries. No issue. You had been in love before but that was a long time ago and ultimately you ended it because it wasn’t right and you weren’t good enough to be devoted to.

You breathed out hard, the unease spilling out of your insides.

It was definitely easier to not expect anything from anyone. You had spent a lot of life not having and, ultimately, not needing to rely on others, both out of necessity and simply having too much to work on by yourself. Years of fighting off bitterness that you had always tasted, years of letting go of important moments realizing that supposedly important people in your life would never be there for them, years of lashing out and becoming the shadow of the abuse you endured. Eye for an eye and all that. Keep the cycle going, until you had that moment in the eye of the storm to get hit by lightning and realize that this wasn’t right.

It wasn’t any particular thing.

Just finally accepting the creeping self-awareness that you had been miserable and were making other people miserable on purpose because you tore them open and took their hearts to find yours.

Metaphorically, duh.

So now you sort of did this martyr shit of being there for people when you could and not asking for anything back. Especially not a relationship. Intimate to heal a heart and then give it away, which totally worked if they weren’t into you, just into what you could do.

You didn’t really feel it yourself but you did get sex out of it.

Bad addiction, yeah.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket.

You ignored it.

Stepped into a chicken place and stood in line, feeling the weight of your world on your shoulders. You brain tried to reason with you that it was Jeon Jungkook’s own fault if he got hurt. He was the one who chose to spend all that time sitting at the laundromat with you talking about random shit. Your favorite video game – Persona 5, excelling in your top three most important things about a video game: music score, gameplay, and art style. Your favorite American rapper – Ludacris and the way he could rhyme the weirdest words. Your favorite movie genre – surrealist psychedelic drug movies, which earned you a confused head tilt. You had asked Jungkook what he liked. Mood lamps. Singing. Watching cooking videos on YouTube.

Had asked him if he believed in soulmates.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket as you ordered at the kiosk and paid.

You don’t think I could have met you in another life?

You stood with the other waiting patrons, ignoring everybody and your phone thrumming against your hip, thinking about last night.

I probably broke your heart.

Thinking about that smile with two piercings and a lip mole. That smile didn’t trust your answer at all.

Maybe the universe is giving me another chance to make up for my past mistakes. I can’t give up.

You made a face at past Jungkook’s answer, too taken aback all those hours ago to scowl properly. Maybe you had been too tired. Too worn down by his earnest nonsense to fight it properly at that moment. Your hand hovered over you hip, wondering if you should check it. Then dropped.

What, did you need to see him every day or something?

Your name was called and you stepped up to receive your order.

Oh, fuck, you miss him.

You yanked your phone out of your pocket and stared at it as you walked out of the restaurant, only to get plopped by a fat raindrop on the lit-up screen. You looked up to the gray sky and let out a hiss.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

You turned around and sat down, grumbling as rain poured down and you replied to Jungkook’s texts.

Stupid.

Not him. Just you.

-

friday.

“What are you trying so hard for?” you snapped.

“Why aren’t you trying hard enough?” Jeon Jungkook shot back.

It was going really well.

Clearly.

You let out a hiss and flicked your hands as if you were trying to physically get rid of his reply. Argh, this… man! The thundering rain was pouring down, down, and you were both standing under a bus stop with no intention of taking the bus. You bit back the volume of your sudden anger. There was no need to yell anyway. No one was coming out in the thick of this monsoon.

Only you and crazy-ass Jeon Jungkook.

Switched tactics. "And what makes you think your virgin ass–"

"I'm not a virgin!"

"You are here!"

And you jammed two fingers into that very muscular chest, right next to the left side of his sternum. Too fast to be stopped. The shove actually made him stumble. Or maybe it was the utter shock of the verbal and physical double jab combined with the deep growl that your voice had suddenly become. His racer jacket and black hair were slick with rain. Half of his white t-shirt soaked. Even the front of his blue jeans drenched.

You panted hard after your outburst, the anger draining away all in a flash of lightning.

Jungkook stared at you with stricken eyes.

The rain pelted down, down, beating into the silence.

“How did you know?” he breathed out.

You didn’t but somehow you did, feeling something inside of you break. Not afraid of the world. Never, never again. No, afraid of what you could do, afraid of breaking something this pure, because you broke your first love too and that past guilt still lingered. Not that you thought Jungkook loved you. He couldn’t This was only the fifth day of him knowing you.

The fuck is going on?

“I see your type all the time,” you sighed, your damp hair all over your face. “Looking for light in black holes instead of stars.” The rain had slipped off your black leather jacket. Your cropped band shirt wasn’t wet, but your black cargo pants were sodden knees down.

This coldness, however, didn’t come from the rain.

“You really should stop. For your own good.”

You looked away from him, feeling as if your own words had pierced bullet holes into your walls. Dark sky, never-ending rain, cars struggling to drive, people running with umbrellas and ponchos, arms huddled close to their bodies, and here you were just standing here in the rain, the world acting out your mind. How nice. You thought you had come to terms with everything, but obviously not. Somehow once you saw Jungkook again, once you felt his presence again, the pull was even stronger and the storm was even more intense and the worst part was that you didn’t want to leave.

You heard Jungkook’s soft, silvery voice through the gray rain.

“Why are you blaming yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened yet?”

You turned your head to look into those pleading brown eyes.

Lightning shot across the sky.

Thunder followed seconds after, eating up the night.

“W… What?”

He shook his head, dripping water.

“You haven’t hurt me. You don’t mean to, either.”

That smile, his hand extended, the inked snake on his wrist showing.

You stared at Jeon Jungkook with droplets beading on your skin but those goosebumps weren’t from the weather. Jerked your head away. What is with this gentleness? How could he know anything? He couldn’t know anything. He was just an airhead who watched too many dramas and made others believe that they could be real.

“Noona?”

You whipped your head to Jungkook, shocked at his use of the honorific. He only used it when Jimin was at the meal. Afterwards, the conversations had been clearly directed at you. Not completely informal speech, but sometimes you slipped and he did too. You never corrected him because, well.

You slapped his hand away.

Nothing was going to happen.

You closed the distance and grabbed his head, pressing your lips to his shaking ones.

It was going to be terrible. Cold. Wet. Acidic from the lingering feelings. There was no way that this kiss could be anything else with this setting.

This was real life.

Not a story.

Your hands cupped his cheeks and you sunk into his kiss. The hard edge of his jewelry and the softness of his breath, caught by your mouth, your eyes already screwed shut, nothing to do but feel, feel the way he instantly pressed back and set his hands on your elbows, pulling you closer, shuddering as your forearms pressed to his chest. A weird feeling, like two fires melting together, prickling racing across your skin, no, deeper, past your ribs and into your heart.

The storm raged on.

You snapped out of the kiss, nose to nose, water trickling in places it shouldn’t, over your eyelashes and down your neck, feeling fingers graze across your elbows. Slipping under the leather. Droplets soaking into your shirt and then warm hands lingering at the curve of your exposed waist.

Tracing your lines.

“Fuck,” you muttered.

And you kissed Jeon Jungkook again.

-

saturday.

No, you didn’t take him home. You’re reckless, yeah.

But you knew how that would go.

Not that Jungkook didn’t try. Maybe you would have done it, if you weren’t the equivalent of wet cat and equally torrenting emotions. His hands around your waist, pulling you closer, heat blossoming between layers of rain-drenched clothing, kiss after kiss, your hands in his hair, tangling those dark waves into wilderness, getting more and more breathless, heady with a feeling you knew but didn’t want to believe in.

For someone who hated lying, you sure enjoyed lying to yourself.

You had reasons.

How could this time be different if it was just following the same trajectory that you always followed?

You had to pry yourself from him, lips tingling, tongue curling, feeling your blood course through your veins and your heartbeat as loud as thunder, opening your eyes to his blissed-out expression, his own eyes still closed, pressing his lips together to savor your taste.

Damn.

You had wanted to tell him to stop it, stop it with all this falling, you were being dragged down by his vibe, clothes feeling heavy, desperate to be stripped away, but you kept your hands along the sides of his head, your exhale escaping but giving you away like a bad con artist.

Those shimmering dark eyes had opened, following Jungkook’s smile.

“You’re a great kisser, noona.”

His hands stayed on your waist, drumming his fingertips on your skin, tangible kisses creating invisible but no less real electricity.

You scoffed, corner of your lips rising.

“Shut up.”

Tendrils of his black-brown hair clung to his forehead. The rain drummed but it had lessened a bit. You had looked back to his eyes, defeated.

“Shut up so I don’t miss you more.”

One last, drawn-out kiss, tongue to tongue and you had broken from him, warning him sternly.

“Don’t follow me.”

Ran all the way home, face burning, not even feeling the rain even though it was still falling.

Now, present time, you sat at this boring farewell party in some fancy hotel with the sun blaring outside. Figures the nice weather would come out when you would have to stuff yourself in a fitted blazer dress and pretend to care about your boss’s boss retiring. Black, of course. For the formal occasion. Sadly, no one was dying except this old coot’s career.

Maybe you were a little salty that you couldn’t retire yet.

You looked down at your phone, which was on silent, noticing you had a new message.

ㅎ.ㅎ

O… Okay. Whatever that face was supposed to mean. You didn’t even bother to answer. Couldn’t, anyway, forced to plaster on a mildly interested expression as your boss gave a speech that you zoned out of. There were multiple large circular tables in the hotel ballroom. Outside the ballroom was an outdoor area with the buffet. Everyone had served themselves before sitting down, but, first, a few words.

A few was turning out to be too many and your salmon was getting cold.

Employees had been allowed to bring plus ones. Wives and husbands. There were a few empty seats, and a few significant others popped in mid-speech, trying to be quiet and politely bowing in apology. Of course, they weren’t required to be on time, having other obligations and such.

You twitched.

Was that why this was dragging on? So everyone could eat at once? For fuck’s sake, who cared if they were late. Then you noticed your boss’s wife stepping in, looking pretty and put-together in a forest green high-necked dress, holding the small hand of a kid in a lopsided children’s tuxedo with an equally confused expression.

Oh.

Come on.

You suddenly felt a disturbance in the Force.

“Excuse me. Sorry, sorry.”

You whipped your head around to see Jeon Jungkook in a black pinstripe suit cha-cha sliding in the empty chair next to you, picking up your black velvet purse and holding it out to you with a grin that made his large, dark brown eyes light up.

You gawked at him.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” He added your name politely and with affection, smooth as butter, criminal undercover. Even the honorific, oh, shit.

The blood drained out of your face and you tried not to think about how your co-workers sitting at the table were staring at you and him like you both had three heads. Of course, no one was supposed to be talking, so no one asked questions yet, but that was definitely going to start the second your boss was finished with his sentence.

You took your purse without another word and glared at Jungkook with such fire that you hoped he burned alive at the spot. Oh, this could turn into a murder and a funeral real fucking fast. All he did was give you those shining big peepers that made you want to strangle him. In an unsexy way.

For now.

You leaned over as the clapping started. He caught on and delicately leaned over, offering his ear to your lips.

“The fuck are you doing?”

Jungkook turned his head so only you could hear his whisper.

“I was nearby, so I figured…?”

You stared at him, plumb slack-jawed at this audacity.

He closed the distance and gently kissed your cheek. You ticked your head almost robotically, piercing eyes following his playful ones, and now you wondered if Jeon Jungkook was truly not right in the head or perfect for you.

Well.

You weren’t right in the head either.

You did text him earlier this morning that you needed to come to this party at this hotel to send off this important retiree. If you missed this, then it would have reflected poorly on you, especially when you wanted to keep your job, so, yes, it was part of the reason why you had not attempted to convince Jungkook to sleep over – not that he needed any convincing whatsoever – and the other reason was to get enough sleep so you could tolerate socializing. Did you think Jungkook was gonna finesse his way into the seat next to you? Hell no. Did you think he was gonna dress smartly and with his black hair parted neatly in the center, fuckin’ black tie pressed and collar pinned? Fuck, no.

Did you think you would like it?

No!

“How did you get them to let you in?” you hissed under your breath.

Jungkook was clapping like a seal because everyone else was. A champagne bottle was being popped. He looked systematically impressed and awed. Amazing acting. “I just said I was with you.” Glanced at you and grinned, the silver piercings on his lip gleaming. A hoop and a stud. “Aren’t I, noona?”

The urge to growl at him to shut the fuck up was silenced by your brain reminding you to be safe-for-work.

You felt a poke at your sleeve. Your co-worker sitting at your left, bleach-blond and with the curiosity of a child. Full of sudden comments and questions too, just like a kid.

“Oh, oh! You never mentioned anything about a boyfriend!” Because you didn’t have one until right now, apparently. “So handsome!” Yes, he was. You had taste. “How did you meet?” Circumstances beyond your control.

“Through a… friend.”

That was a very generous word for instigator Park Jimin.

Jungkook poked his head past you and waved. “Hi! Nice to meet you.” He was using you as a shield to avoid directly interacting with these people he didn’t know. Just chiming in with polite nods as you introduced him to the table and sitting back to let you have this uninvited spotlight that was burning you like the sun did to vampires.

Pretty close, in all honesty.

“Aw, what a sweet guy. It’s nice to meet you too. I didn’t think your type was so young and cute.”

You almost made a face of distaste. “You thought my type was old and ugly?” Oop, there goes your sharp tongue.

“Nooo.” You tried not to flinch at the playful slap of your arm. “More mature, maybe? But this is better. You don’t have to be so serious. Look at his smile! I bet that’s what drew you in.”

You glanced at Jungkook and he appropriately smiled big at the right time. Somehow, he had obtained a plate of steak. How, you didn’t care. You narrowed your eyes just a sliver. Jungkook did not stop smiling but there was at least an iota of fear in those big brown eyes. Speaking of vampire, maybe you should suck the life out of him because he was being too fuckin’ much.

“Well, he was persistent to put it lightly. Might as well give him the chance to win me over.”

Jungkook beamed like a billion-kilowatt lightbulb. Or a crystal chandelier. It depended if you wanted to say the light came from his white teeth or sparkling eyeballs.

Fuckity fuck.

You wanted to rub your temples but refrained.

You would never recover from this.

“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook asked you later.

Oh, now he wondered if you’re mad. You didn’t even look at him, dragging him away from the crowd by the elbow. Hopefully you had stayed long enough but there had been so many of the same questions that you were either getting dizzy or murderous. Hm. Why not both?

“I’m not mad at you,” you muttered.

“You kinda sound mad.”

“I’m not mad but I’m gonna get mad if you keep saying I am,” you warned. “Don’t start a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“A what?”

“Where did you park?”

His voice became small even though he was right next to you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

The sun was blaring down on the open parking lot, it was annoyingly humid, you were socially drained, and this, not this. You spun abruptly, too much crashing down too fast, flinging Jungkook’s arm from you.

“No,” you hissed out. “No. Don’t you dare take it back. You wanna be crazy and drive me crazy, fine, do it, keep doing it, don’t stop, but own up. I’ve got enough push-and-pull jammed into my head and I don’t need you adding to it.”

It was so easy to simply give in to the rising anger, but you found yourself locked into Jungkook’s wide, taken-back eyes, drowning in them, deeper than the ocean, seeing how rueful he was.

“Don’t do that to me,” you sighed.

At least your voice didn’t crack. You didn’t want to be angry anyway.

You raised your hand to cup his cheek but paused, not knowing anymore what was what. Always been so sure until the world started getting flipped upside down by Jeon Jungkook. You always knew all of the things to do to make someone interested, all the things to say to make them swoon, and now you didn’t know anything at all because this guy showed up and jumped right in, not even caring about the damages, the fine print, or the past that lingered.

Why are you blaming yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened yet?

Jungkook leaned forward and completed the curve of his cheek into your hollow palm, now looking at you eye-to-eye with a curious expression.

The corner of your lips curved upwards.

You leaned forward, saying your next words very seriously.

“You. Are. Crazy.”

-

sunday.

You sat against the window, waiting for the document to print out.

No one was in the office. You had rolled over here out of sheer boredom, looking up at the gray-blue sky and watching shafts of sunlight phase in and out. Overtime to prepare documents for Monday. You hadn’t bothered to follow dress code, but there was a breeze today, so you wore brown plaid trousers and an old vintage t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. The faded album cover of Papa Roach’s Infest. Your oversized black leather jacket was on the back of your office chair once again.

You spun in your chair, the print job long done.

Thought back on the week.

Day one, awkward dinner and the start of a rollercoaster.

Day two, clutching your phone and waiting for replies due to the spotty service of the subway.

Day three, washing machines and dryers and long conversations.

Day four, shitty day with a nice ending to more texts. Better service too.

Day five, cold rain and warm lips.

Day six, surprise! You have a boyfriend and everybody knows!

You got up and wandered to the copier. Stacked everything up and clipped the right parts together, setting it on your boss’s desk. Glanced at the time at your computer. The blank screensaver abruptly appeared, showing you your blurred reflection.

Your fingertips lingered on your chest, the soft, worn fabric of the shirt reminding you of night after tumultuous night of the past. Time that made you, you. Scars you made by holding on too tightly to pain others gave you. The thought of scars in others that you started and they held on to. Repenting, in a way, healing the hearts that came in your path with intimacy and the passion you were afraid to show Jeon Jungkook because what if, what if…

What if it actually matched well?

“You,” Park Jimin had said to you months ago, “You need someone who thinks of you as their whole world.”

“I don’t want that.”

“You don’t want it. But you need it.”

You didn’t have Park-Jimin-being-right on this year’s bingo card, fuck.

You clocked out and collected your stuff, turning off the lights as you left the office, black boots the only solid sound around you, pulling out your phone to check the address one more time.

“Why are you wearing clothes?” you asked accusingly.

“Um…?”

You gripped the sides of the denim jacket and yanked it off his shoulders, pinning Jeon Jungkook’s arms to his sides. He immediately yelped but you silenced him by stepping through the door and pulling him to you by the button placket, tracing the edge of his open lips with your tongue.

“W-Wait, noona, the d-door…”

“I don’t care.”

Kissed him, deeply.

That now familiar scent, closer, slipping your tongue between his lips, succumbing to the flutters. In, out, feeling him collapse under you and moan in his throat, hard body stumbling into yours, hand haphazardly smacking the edge of the door.

It closed behind you.

You rolled your body into his, closer than close with too many layers in between, tangling his arms in his own jacket, swallowing his gasp and feeling him wiggle determinedly to free his hands and then they were on your face, strong fingers fanning out over your jaw, his jacket falling to the floor, hungrily following your tongue and lips with his own.

Something addicting about the addition of metal to those soft mouth.

This was your forte, the ability to make fantasies come true, and you took it seriously, throwing your bag onto the table by the door and shedding the protective layer of leather. Pressed chest to chest, holding his head and tracing his lips, slow fucking them, running your fingertips over the curve of his ears and making him shiver, noting the three hoops along his left ear.

Pressed your hands down his chest, over the smooth ribbed white tank molding to his muscular torso, down, down, kissing past his lips, to that mole underneath, down his chin, his head tipping back, your name drifting above your head as you kissed down his neck, the sharp clean scent of his cologne getting stronger.

“I thought… we were… o-oh, g-going out…”

“I’m gonna fuck you,” you breathed into his collarbones, hot and low, nicking his skin with your teeth and making him shiver. “Right now. Tonight. Maybe tomorrow too.” Undid the button of his jeans with some effort, yanking him towards you again and molding your hips to his, thighs to hard thighs, and that stiffness wasn’t only a sturdy zipper. “Tuesday as well. Fuck it.”

“The whole week,” Jungkook gasped as you unzipped his charcoal jeans.

“Yeah, good, you’re keeping up,” you murmured and grabbed his head again, catching a fistful of his black hair, kissing him hard with your other palm pressed to his hardness. Your tongue tracing the edge of his lips, breathing into his mouth and swallowing Jungkook’s wanton moan, intoxicated by the moment.

You pulled back just to yank your shirt over your head, tossing it to the floor.

It took longer for it to float down than for you to get on your knees.

“Woah…!”

Hooked your fingers on the elastic waistband of his Calvin Kleins and tugged them down, exhaling over that thick length that popped out. He smelled clean, like he had just showered, and you half-smiled, approving, closing the distance to curl your tongue around hard taut skin.

“Ooooh… fuuuuuuuck…”

Tightly taking control, using only your tongue to scoop around his girth and flick against his balls. Kisses, licks, flutters of breath, all of it, sensation after sensation, layering on the heat, adding sweetness to the obscene, his twitching cock hitting your cheek as you pressed kisses to his balls.

“Let me show you something,” you hummed and swallowed his pride.

Jungkook gasped so loud that his hands shot up to his mouth, fingers laced over his moan, one inked arm and one tan one, tilting his head back as your lips closed around him, softly, your tongue cupping the head, caressing the underside, the slit, letting him throb against wet muscle. Pushed him up to the roof of your mouth and slowly, in and out, rubbing the base of the head against your lips every time you ascended, fanning your fingers over his crotch to hold the base and cup his balls in between your index and thumb. Steady and consistent, sucking him off with deliberate precision.

You had a lot of fancy skills to show off but, for this first time, might as well give him the stripped-down version.

Heh.

So you blew Jungkook at his front door in your bra and pants with his clothes half-on and struggling to breathe.

“A-Ah, so s-soft… and so tight… h-how…”

You didn’t speed up. Didn’t put in more force. Used your whole torso, not just your head and neck, to avoid strain, holding his hips to take him deeper but at the same pace, letting the orgasm build with his heart rate, running your thumbs over his balls, a gentle caress, closing your eyes to savor it. Hard and twitching, but you didn’t let him disturb what you had going on, extending out the minutes, saturating every second with flowing, unavoidable bliss.

What?

You could match his vibe with your kind of romance.

You heard Jungkook’s pitch hike and the muscles under your fingers all tensed up. You spared a look upwards, but he wasn’t looking at you, shoving his hands into his messy black hair, displaying his prominent triceps, and moaning to the ceiling, dragging his bangs over his eyes.

“Oh my God, I’m cumming, fuuuuck…!”

You pillowed your tongue around the head and his salty orgasm flooded your mouth, spilling out and down your throat, but you cupped what you could and coated the sensitive head, pleased to hear Jungkook’s shudder and whimper of ecstasy, gripping his hair and pulling. The close-fitted nature of his tank top left nothing to the imagination, the aftershock rippling up his chest, even his hardened nipples poking against the fabric.

You swallowed.

Jungkook moaned and his head fell back again, his eyes probably rolled back.

Gotta finish him off right.

You licked around him carefully, cleaning him off and keeping him hard.

“You…”

Cocked an eyebrow as you shifted your eyes up, his cock buried in your throat, pulsing your muscles around his length. His chin was on his chest, wayward dark curls hanging down, shaking wide eyes watching you with fascination, his shaking voice full of awe.

“You know… how porn calls it a mouth-pussy? I really thought that shit was fake and sounded stupid, but… you have a mouth-pussy.”

You blinked at him and tried not to snort out in laughter.

You just raised both eyebrows and flicked his balls with your tongue. A few seconds later, you pulled back and countered with, “Really? Mouth-pussy? That’s how you show gratitude for the best suck of your life?”

“B-But it’s true!”

You shook you head and waved a hand at him.

“Clothes. Off.”

Every hour, every minute, every second.

Full of sex.

Jungkook wasn’t lying. He wasn’t a virgin. He was a little too good at fingering to be a virgin. Well, you hadn’t had his dick yet but it was pretty obvious with the slow circles on your clit and the kissing of your collarbones. Clothes didn’t even make it to the bedroom. Most of them were left by the door. Your shoulder blades and ass touching the bed, his other hand along your back and tracing your spine as he kissed across your breasts, shyly shifting his gaze back to your face to constantly check if you were enjoying it, not quite confident that he was making your heart flutter. You smirked back at him, taking his hand and pressing his fingers to your wet slit, pushing them in yourself.

He breathed out with you, watching your face as the pleasure snaked out from your core.

Two of them, taking it slow, but you shook your head and pressed his down, your hard nipple against his lips, and he followed your lead, faster, harder, your inner walls clenching around him, sighing deeply as the pleasure flowed, soft licks and tracing tongue. You let him have it, the slower, more romantic pace, spreading your fingers over his sheets and thrusting into his hand, adding to the pleasure, and Jungkook’s eyes glittered, kissing from one nipple to another with a smile.

“Harder?”

“And faster,” you agreed, licking the air between you and him.

Hey, you weren’t a virgin either and you liked it rough.

He kissed you first, entranced by your tongue, harder, faster, your hips following his hand, entangled in this beat, and then it was back to your nipples, kissing sucking, sparks of sensuality over your skin, your hands diving into his hair. Heat. Roughness. Passion, catching your breath and your head falling back, inhaling his scent and the clean sheets, the orgasm flooding through you, delicately forming his name with your lips.

“Ah, Jungkook…”

You didn’t let it stop there though.

His hand moved to pull out and you clutched his wrist and pushed him back in, your nail catching his ring finger, collecting it too, gasping at the added fullness, and you pulled his left hand out from under your back.

Jungkook watched you curiously as your rode his right hand and turned his left, thumb down.

You fitted it around your neck and positioned it correctly, grinning devilishly at him.

He got the hint.

Slightly unsure at first but you built his confidence, comfortably laying back on his bed and spreading out your fingers, moaning softly for him, rocking your hips into his hand, climbing to the high again, stronger his time. His fingers pressed inwards and you breathed out, savoring the choking, the way time slowed down, the way the sensations heightened, your spine arching, low gasp like heavy smoke, immortalizing the moment in his memory, black pupils blown out in those beautiful dark eyes, leaning forward to run his tongue over your nipples.

Your fingers curled into the sheets, thrusting into his fingers harder.

Lids heavy, drowning in the pleasure, his tongue, his hands, the way he looked at you like you were his whole world, the tension between you and him, sweet and intense and overwhelming, just perfect, your exhale only a thin wisp now, closing your eyes and moaning to the ceiling as you came.

It was a hard, thundering pulse, much more powerful than before, your shivering pussy gripping his fingers and your hips bucking. Thighs snapping closed, whining as you felt the hardness of his tattooed forearm, your head snapping to the side the second he released you, the rushing blood knocking you down and making your nerves sing, strong flinches across your arms and torso. Gasping to catch your breath.

Wasn’t his first time choking, but maybe the first time he got really turned on by it, because Jungkook was ogling you like a three-star Michelin meal.

It was like that all night.

From the first time he entered you, one condom wrapper the start of many, biting the left side of his lip and shuddering – “H-How are you so tight…? I just f-fingered you – oooh!” – and you wrapped around him tightly, smirking a little too smugly, one arm around his neck and one leg on his shoulder. Your fingers petaled around the base of his head, cupping him in the flower of your touch. Your thigh against his hard chest still trembling from your kisses. You angled your hips and he slipped in deeper, groaning in disbelief, his brows furrowing at you.

“H-Hey!”

Your tongue pocketed in the side of your smirk and you fucked him right.

“Gah!”

Jungkook, too, fucked you right.

You lead the pace so he could bring the force of his hips. Ah, fuck, right there, like that, and you let him know, the cries tumbling out and mixing with his, rushing wave after wave pressing into you, filling you with his girth and his power. You brought the intensity, the flint to his flame, the break in his pride and Jungkook was looking down at you, shoulders flexed, jaw tight and eyes hazy, clear emotion swirling within them and you saw your own gaze fixated on him, wanting him more than you wanted the sex.

Oh.

Shit.

You gasped and dug your nails into his scalp, grasping the pillow and throwing your head back, not expecting the suddenness of your high, injected into your heartbeat and pushing all the air out of your lungs, veins ablaze with heat as your core clenched, inner walls throbbing all around him. Jungkook groaned, biting his lower lip and thrusting hard, the small mole underneath shaking just as hard as his shoulders, but he couldn’t hold back any longer, squeezing his eyes shut, muffled scream as he came, his head falling back, two tones the start of an ongoing, wanton melody.

“Holy… fuck…”

Well, more like unholy fuck but you didn’t correct him.

You kind of expected him to pull out and leave, but instead his head snapped back and he dived down, catching your lips and dripping sweat on you, making you both laugh. Kiss after kiss, all over your face, and you could barely sputter out – “Oi, you’re sweaty!” – but he didn’t care, kissing all over your cheeks and down your neck, your chest, slurping at your nipples, you narrowed your eyes at that but those playful eyes just sparkled with deviousness, trailing down, down.

Slowing.

Jungkook pressed his lips to your waist, looking up at you.

Your heart thundered against your chest and sparks danced over your skin.

Somehow at ease.

“What?”

You smiled down at him.

“I don’t ever want to leave your side.”

Your lips parted to give him a snappy comeback, yeah, well, I gotta go to work, but nothing came out.

Jungkook grinned, his whole face lighting up and dove between your legs, biting and kissing the inside of your thighs, attacking them with his menacing mouth.

“Hey! Oi! I’m sensitive, f-fuck!”

Even planting a fat wet kiss on your clit for good measure.

“Ah!”

Shoving his tongue in your pussy.

“YO!”

You gawked at his audacity, twisting away from him. Infuriatingly, he followed, scrambling for your ass.

“There was just a condom in there!”

“Ah, who cares,” said the one that clearly didn’t. “Kiss me.”

“Hell no!”

After cleaning up and pinning him down on his own bed and thoroughly scolding him, somehow you ended up making out with Jungkook and his fingers were in your pussy again. It sounded very wet and squishy down there, probably because you showed Jungkook just now much you liked kisses under your earlobe. His tongue against your skin, teeth nicking, sucking hard and making you moan and grind on his hand, pressing against his chest.

“Sit on my face,” he whispered in your ear.

Which was know you ended up grasping his headboard and his tongue between your legs, the piercing pressed against the left side of the outer lips. You kept your weight on your knees, but Jungkook grabbed your ass and tipped your hips at a different angle, your clit right on his tongue, his nose against your crotch.

“Fuuuuck, you smell so good…”

You could barely hear him but you felt him speak, gasping at the strange sensation of hot breath and swiping tongue, his lips wrapping around your most sensitive nerves. He had a much softer tongue, but there was consistency there and plenty of gusto. It helped, actually, to have his hands gripping your thighs, adding the amplifying pleasure of restraint. You rode his face, matching the movement of his tongue. One of your hands left the headboard. Trapped your nipples between your fingers and pulled at them, making Jungkook’s eyes go wide and watch eagerly, licking and sucking harder.

Layered and intricate, full of sensation and emotion, gazing down at him and smirking as the sparks turned into lightning and you soaked his face, shivering, tipping forward at the flinches of climax, swearing under your thin breath, panting, snapped tension draining you and wetly sticking to his lips, his tongue, his cheeks.

He shoved his tongue into your quivering pussy and you sucked in a breath, feeling your inner walls pulsate around his curling muscle, his low, gravelly moan filling what little air there was between his mouth and you, his satisfaction vibrating through your body and mixing with your afterglow.

You slid down his chest and kissed him again, tasting your subtle sweet-sour on his slick lips.

He wanted you to jack him off hard and fast, the fingers of your other hand splayed out over his chest, forgetting about anything else, time only a construct, your phones discarded by the door, and here, in this bed, there was only Jungkook and you, his cock pulsing in your grip, your foxy expression to his desperate one, his eyes rolling back in the intensity, biting down hard on the left side of his lip, the small mole underneath shaking in anticipation, the tendons of his neck popping out.

You raised your free hand and gently stroked his cheek with your knuckle as you punished his cock.

His lower lip popped out of his mouth and he groaned, rough and breathless.

“A-Ah, fuck!”

A hot stream of liquid dripping down the back of your hand, drenching you and him in the strong scent of sex. Thick and potent, and you leaned forward and kissed him deeply, tightly holding his jerking cock and squeezing it all out of him.

“You’re amazing,” Jungkook panted, even after getting up – once again – to attempt to clean up your collective mess.

“Mhm,” you hummed, sitting beside him. He was radiating heat. “I was never worried about that.”

“Hah… You’re… You’re crazy…”

You had obtained your phone and just now sent a message to your boss that you would be taking a sick day on Monday. You have plenty of those. “Speak for yourself.”

“I mean, you’re like… um… uh, oh! A semen demon…”

“What?”

You almost threw your phone in laughter. Actually, you couldn’t even hear Jungkook’s explanation for what the hell he meant by semen demon because you were laughing too hard, barely able to breathe. There wasn’t a normal explanation anyway – how could there be? – and you kept inelegantly snorting afterward at inappropriate times. Jungkook, for his part, seemed proud for making you laugh so much.

“You look so beautiful laughing.”

Your response was quick, immediate, and lighthearted.

“Shut up.”

He snuggled his still too warm head into the crook of your shoulder.

“Will you stay?”

You gave him a look and then showed him the sent text message on your phone. There was something special and perfect about the smile that lit up his face, clearly showing his devotion and clearly seeing yours.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

Jungkook skipped work too. Both of you ended up sleeping in.

--

masterpost

[blublublujk]

closer

oneshot

word count: 12.7k

genre: step-siblings to lovers, dead dove (proceed with caution)

pairing: dongsaeng jungkook × noona reader

summary:

Jungkook had always known there was something wrong with him when he realized his obsession with his Noona was far too intimate consider their relationship, but she was perfect for him. Can anyone really blame him for falling in love with his beautiful older step-sister?

warnings: [PLEASE READ] dead dove, eat with caution (they are step-siblings and it's a bit romanticized), there's mentions of the pairing as minors but nothing too oversexualized and in detail, mentions of violent behavior (not towards reader), mentions of jungkook possibly being asexual or gay (he's not lol), pairing has shit parents and jungkook's father is an alcoholic, parent issues to the max, petite reader (fit the plot better), explicit sexual content: dirty sexual thoughts, jk has a huge dick and he jacks off so much, someone's a virgin in this and it is NOT the reader, there's a lot of crying in this one, jungkook probably needs therapy and the reader lol, extremely possessive and obsessive jungkook, DADDY KINK, hickeys, unprotected rough vaginal sex, dubious consent but they both want it, dirty talk, the reader slaps jungkook, squirting, blowjob, cunnilingus, come tasting/swallowing, slight ass play, choking, multiple orgasms, passing out and overstimulation, creampie, pregnancy (oopsie)

a.n: well i have no fucking words. im actually a bit shy and embarrassed to release this after my last post but we move on! this wasn’t apart of my drafts either SIGH. wrote this because i was insanely horny and ovulating so have fun ig. please enjoy it nicely. i certainly did. if you look past all the dark stuff you might find it’s actually pretty hot. i cant even believe i wrote this. im really scared … if anyone is crazy enough, please comment your thoughts. tempted to do more of these deranged stories. since tmr is christmas i leave this as a final parting gift for this year though it has nothing to do with chirstmas. byebye angels and merriest of chirstmas to you all <3

—> m.list

—> find me on ao3 & twt

--

Jungkook has officially hit rock bottom. 

He has officially lost his mind. Again and again he comes back to what he knows he shouldn’t and knows that, but he’s only a man after all. Can anyone really blame him?

For the third time that night, Jungkook has fisted his cock empty. The younger’s dick was raw and swollen– sticky from the amount of beatings he had pumped. His ballsack had nothing else more to give him and Jungkook started to grow frustrated. His dick was still heavy in his palm, aching for something he knows he could never fucking have. It simply wasn’t fair. 

Jungkook pants loudly, wiping his dirty come all over his black sheets. He’s dripping sweat and he feels his dick might fall off if he keeps masturbating this much, but it was simply impossible. He’s a growing man after all, it was totally normal for him to have such a high libido. His doctor even said so (he asked him during a typical yearly routine exam and the professional confirmed it was more than normal, that usually as he ages he’ll simply grow out of it). Jungkook doesn’t even believe him anymore. The more he fucks his hand, the more he grows the urge to stuff his cock in his step-sister’s tempting pussy.

He knows it’s disgusting. He tried to overcome the disgusting need to fuck her until she begged for more, the compulsive thirst to eat her juicy pussy from behind, the lustful desire to ruin her for anyone else that dared lay hands on his older step-sibling. Jungkook has had too much time to think about these sinful– incriminating thoughts. He imagines how his step-sister would look all heavy and round, carrying Jungkook’s seed for nine months straight. What amazing mother she would be. He thinks about this all the time. 

And he’s not just saying this out of his ass. His step-sister saved him. He had one-on-one, firsthand experience to all her angelic glory. She’s patient, extremely caring, and she’s the sweest thing he’s ever known. Jungkook is in love with her. 

Can anyone really blame him? His Noona is the best. He’ll say it over and over, a million times until the whole world gets to hear it because his Noona deserves that and much more. 

Jungkook believes he’s the only one that could please his Noona. He truly believes that there is no better man in this world for her than him. He doesn’t care how selfish that seems. His Noona has been hurt too many times and Jungkook has unfortunately witnessed it all. Every heartbreak, every break-up, every stupid relationship he has had to tolerate. He falls sick to his stomach every time because he knows she deserves so, so much more and only he could do that for her. He knows how happy he could make her.

After all, only Jungkook knows what is best for her.  

Jungkook hears the living room door close hard, the house shakes from the harsh movement. The noise startles him from his current position. He quickly wipes the come off his abdomen and the sweat off his body. He’s sure he probably stinks or at the very least his room does, but the heavy footsteps coming from the stairs worry him more. 

“Noona?” He calls out and nobody answers him, by the time he’s shoving on the first pair of sweats he can find his bedroom door opens wide. Jungkook still has sweat dripping down his bare back, praying that it goes unnoticed. He simply got carried away, fucking his cock into his hand for thirty minutes straight.

“Noona…” Jungkook reaches out the second he hears you whimper. The second he has you in his arms you completely let go. Tears stream down your face with no plans on stopping and Jungkook feels his heart break in two. In a way, he feels conflicted. 

On one hand, he’s extremely upset about whatever caused you any trouble and he’s willing to do anything to make it up to you. Buy you your favorite ice cream. Take you to watch a movie. Cook you a yummy home meal. He would do anything if it meant he could make you smile again. 

But on the other well, Jungkook’s fucking pissed. He needs to know exactly what happened, who fucking did this to you, and how the fuck he even let this happen. He’ll kill whoever did this to you. He will. Jungkook would do anything for his Noona, even if that meant killing someone with bare hands. 

“What’s wrong, Noona?” Jungkook’s gentle when asking the question, watching you cry your heart out. The younger rubs circles into your back, comforting you in a time of need. “What happened? Tell me. Jungkookie will help.” 

You sob into his chest hard and Jungkook can’t help the way his insides flare. He wants to burn the world down. That way, nobody can harm you and he can take care of you like he’s meant to. Jungkook was born to love and care for you. He feels that deep in his (dark) heart. 

“Oh, Jungkookie…” He keeps rubbing circles, desperate to make it all go away for you. His Noona didn’t deserve this. 

“I found the messages.” Between hiccups, you cry harder trying to explain the problem. It hurts. It hurts so bad, maybe you’ll never be good enough. For him, or for anyone.  

“What messages, Noona?” Jungkook’s nose bumps into yours, cautious doe-eyes stare down at you. Fire lights deep inside them, but they don’t scare you because Jungkook could never hurt a soul. Not your innocent little step-brother. Certainly not your sweet dongsaeng. 

“S-Seojun’s.” You have trouble breathing and Jungkook pats your back softly, being extremely patient, but deep inside him, he can’t wait to beat Seojun’s ass regardless of whatever you say next. “He— he cheated on me.” 

Jungkook no longer exists in the same universe you do. The first thing he sees is red. Jungkook’s going to fucking murder Seojun. How fucking dare he!

How could he ever cheat on you? Seojun must have a death wish and Jungkook can’t wait to deliver his wish personally. He should cut off each fin—

“Jungkookie… m-my heart hu—hurts.” He snaps out of the dark space in his head and starts drying your tears with his thumbs. 

“Noona… he— he doesn’t deserve you.” Jungkook starts, holding you up with a strong grip. He could feel your squishy breast pressing hard against his upper stomach. In a different moment, different situation, he would have popped a boner and it would have been extremely awkward. Jungkook is not small in any sense but he’s a bit insecure. He wonders if you would love the feel of his huge cock invading your guts, but that’s for another time. “I’ve told you this before but you deserve someone that doesn’t make you question their love for you. Someone that loves you so much it could kill them. They should love and care for you so much that they would be willing to do anything for you. You shouldn’t have to deal with this, Noona. He doesn’t deserve you. Nobody does. They can’t ever love you. They won't. You’re safe here Noona, I love you.” 

“My sweet Jungkookie…” You sigh as tears begin to slow down and stick to your face. “That’s right. Only you could ever love me this much I think. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” Jungkook snaps. If anything Seojun should be crying buckets, begging for forgiveness and mercy because after Jungkook’s done with him, he’ll regret ever meeting you. Jungkook can’t wait to make the motherfucker pay for his unforgivable crimes. “He’s just a coward. Not a real man.”

“Oh my Jungkookie, when did you become so big? Huh? So grown up.” Your tone wavers as you continue. “You’ve always been such a romantic. Isn’t that right? Noona’s so proud of you Jungkookie, the best dongsaeng I could ever ask for.”

Jungkook melts with every compliment. 

When you first met Jungkook, he couldn’t even look you in the eyes. He would get so fucking nervous around you. His stomach would flip whenever you stepped into his line of sight. He doesn’t remember a time he didn’t have the biggest crush. 

Like anyone else, Jungkook assumed this was nothing but a minor crush. It was his first crush. Jungkook didn’t have experience with girls or dating for that matter. He wasn’t at all interested in any of that. For a cool minute, the younger assumed he must be gay, clearly it was the only explanation that made sense at the time, but then he realized not even then he felt anything. His best friend, Taehyung is extremely gay and pretty handsome (if he must admit), but he could never be with him, much less fuck the man. 

His next thought is he has to be asexual. Jungkook didn’t ever think about sex, much less want to participate in any sexual activity. The thought used to disgust him. There was no one worthy. No one he would like to stick his dick into. Jungkook was broken! 

Then, his father came home one night, shit-faced couldn’t even hold himself up. Jungkook had to carry him to bed that night. He was only fifteen years old, he had no busy doing that, yet had no choice.

“Son. W-Wan you to meet someone tu—tomorrow.” His father begins, Jungkook winces when he reels him in close, breath stinking of some sort of strong alcohol. “Yu— got you a ma—mother. S-Stepmother.”

Jungkook’s heart drops. He doesn’t need a fucking mother. Jungkook is happy with the way things are right now. Just him and his dad. No matter how broken their relationship is. He doesn’t need a mother. 

“Appa, I don’t—”

“Quiet. Shh.” His father ends the conversation with a finger tap to his mouth. Forbidding the younger to get another word out. Jungkook feels he could sob because knowing his father, he was impending doom. “Sleep now child. Come here. Sleep with Appa.” 

That night, Jungkook unfortunately sleeps in his father’s bed which reeks of musk and cheap cologne with a hint of mixed perfume. He doesn’t sleep all night, worried that he’ll wake up and his father will have choked during his sleep. He’s afraid that if he turns his head, he’ll find his father dead. Maybe that would have been better. That his father never woke up that next morning. Then he wouldn’t be stuck in the situation he was in today. His father’s at fault. 

Jungkook’s father brings his “step-mom” over the next day and Jungkook doesn’t know how to feel. He hates her. He absolutely despises her. Jungkook feels it in his heart that she will completely ruin his life. 

Jungkook already has a mom. She died giving birth to him. It’s not her fault. Jungkook’s mom is incredible and he’s heard great stories. Nobody will ever compare to his mother. Even though Jungkook never got the chance to meet her, he knows he would have loved her and she him. In another lifetime, Jungkook would have loved to spend his entire life in the warm arms of his mother. 

What he wasn’t expecting was his step-mom to bring company. Jungkook obsesses from the very, very start. 

“Jungkook-ah, meet your step-sister, Y/N. She’s two-years older than you. They are moving in with us, so I hope you will be a good dongsaeng to your Noona. We’ll live as a happy family from now on. Ain’t that right, Yeobo?” His father leans in kissing his step-mom with passion. Jungkook thinks if the situation was different he would have thrown up the sandwich he had for lunch, but as he looks up at you, he finds you playing with the ends of your sweater. You’re tiny. He doesn’t believe you’re older than him. You can’t be. Barely seventeen, but you have yet to grow into your lady parts. Jungkook couldn’t stop staring at you. Your lip was swollen from how hard you were sucking it from nerves. This had to be just as difficult for you as well. 

With careful steps, you stretch your hand out, making peace with your new step-sibling. “Hello Jungkook, it’s nice to meet you. I promise to be a good Noona. I look forward to moving in. I hope you can accept me. I promise to take good care of you.” 

The younger almost falls to his knees. He’s never seen a more beautiful smile. Jungkook takes your tiny hand in his. His hand is bigger than yours, he’s tempted to compare sizes. He’s even slightly taller than you. Jungkook puffs his chest thinking about how he’ll only grow taller. He’ll soon tower over you. 

Jungkook doesn’t even say anything to you that night. Not a single word. He can’t. He shakes your hand awkwardly with a deep blush setting on his cheeks. Jungkook promises one thing. He promises to care for you too. That promise stays in his head for now, but Jungkook is certain now. He’s definitely not gay and he isn’t fucking asexual. Not anymore. Not ever.

Since then, it’s like you’ve been attached by the hip. Jungkook grew to become a man. Now twenty-three and you twenty-five. And you grew into a woman besides him. 

He was the best dongsaeng you could ever ask for. Jungkook was sweet. He would cry about everything and anything. While trying to get closer to one another and build a bond, you thought it would be a good idea to watch classic romance films. Jungkook would cry to every single one. A true romantic at heart and you, being the best Noona ever, would be there to comfort him. Like you would your own baby brother. 

Back then, you used to dream of having siblings, you’re extremely lucky you get to live that with Jungkook. You didn’t mind that he was a big cry-baby, it was endearing that a boy could have so many emotions and show them without holding back. 

He was extremely sweet. Jungkook was protective, like any usual brother was. Always looking for ways to watch out for you and even though he was the younger, he took care of you, a lot. 

Your mother wasn’t present much. And his father was much worse. They simply weren’t there. Not then, not now. But Jungkook was there. He was the shoulder you could cry on, the person you could run to, the only person you could fully depend on. Jungkook was always there. 

Jungkook was very kind-hearted, so innocent and pure. He was never the kind of guy to bring girls home. Talk about sex. You aren’t even sure if he’s ever had a girlfriend or even ever had sex for that matter. He even watches his mouth around you. He doesn’t cuss and he certainly doesn’t act out. He’s a very good boy, the best and kindest dongsaeng. 

“Thank you, Jungkookie.” You pull him closer, hands wrapping around his solid back, with a sniffle you question. “You— you’re hot?” 

Jungkook blanks, very confused. Were you realizing your love for him? Is this the way it will happen? Jungkook’s not sure he wants it this way. Not after he just helped you get over another man. He hopes this time for fucking good. He cannot bear hearing about Seojun and his stupid face ever again. 

“Do you have a fever, Jungkookie? You’re sweating!” You start to pat him all over, trying to measure his temperature with your hand. “Oh no my baby, let’s get you to bed!” 

Jungkook nearly awes. You went from having one of your worst days to completely being concerned about his well being. The younger beams in relief, he’s lucky his Noona is clueless. So fucking unaware. Doesn’t even realize the sheets are still filled with his filthy release. All thanks to her beauty.

“I’m okay Noona, you should head to bed. It’s been a long day.” The younger leans in for another hug, a thank you for being so kind. 

You keep insisting. “But you’re dripping! You have a fever, Jungkookie!”

Jungkook chuckles with you in his arms. “I worked out before you came home. I didn’t have time to shower. I don’t have a fever, everything’s okay. ” 

You fake a gag. “Yuck! Don’t even warn me either! Jungkookie, you’re an animal!” 

Oh, if only you knew. :)

Jungkook doesn’t allow you to slip from his arms, only holding on tighter.

“Scared of a little sweat, Noona?” The younger teases with a sly smirk. 

“When it's you, yes. Don’t want my dongsaeng’s sweat on me.” Jungkook tries to look past the “when it’s you” because what the hell does that mean? Would you like sweat if it came from someone else? Would you touch him if he was someone else? Would you lick it off if the situation was different? Jungkook swats all those thoughts away. He almost popped a boner and he doesn’t understand how that’s even possible after the day he’s had today. He is done for today, but his dick sadly has a mind of its own. 

“Whatever. Go sleep!” Jungkook unfortunately has to let go which is the worst part, but is surprised when you’re blushing against his still, very bare chest, your smaller hand resting on his abs. 

“Can… can you come sleep with me Jungkookie?” You get so shy Jungkook has to hold back from babying his own Noona. 

Like music to his fucking ears. Of course, he’ll sleep with you. He silently thanks Seojun for being a fucking dumbass. Jungkook’s about to pick up all the pieces he just broke earlier and never, ever give them back. 

“Don’t get all shy on me Noona, of course I will! What type of dongsaeng do you take me for?” Jungkook dramatically in offense holds his chest. 

“Only the best, my sweet Jungkookie, but go shower first. You reek.” The younger gasps, feigning offense. 

“No I don’t!” Jungkook is quick to defend himself, coming close so he could smell his pits. He’s probably smelled better, but he actually doesn’t smell, not that he knows of. If anything he’s surprised his room doesn’t reek of that crappy lotion he uses to get himself off. “See!”

The taller brings you in once more and you push him off hard. “Absolutely not you maniac! Go shower now!” 

“Fine!” Jungkook gives up and just as he’s about to retrieve the stuff he’ll need for his shower, he asks. “Your room or mine?” 

He silently prays you pick your own because he cannot stand the smell of his own room any longer. Plus you still have yet to notice the come on his sheets. Jungkook would be so embarrassed if you saw his soiled bed like this. His Noona deserves nothing but the best. A clean, comfortable environment. His room was probably a safety hazard right now and he wasn’t willing to risk the chance for conversation. 

“Mm, mine!” You decide with a pretty smile.

“Okay, Noona. I’ll be there in five. Don’t wait up for me.” With one last hug and a kiss at your temple, Jungkook goes off to shower and you retreat to your room. 

Yes, it was a bit strange. Sleeping with your grown step-sibling and all, but that’s the bond you and Jungkook had grown. The bond was so strong. You guys did just about everything together and by each other’s side. There was never anything super strange about that to you. 

Your friends once commented how it was just a bit weird. The strange relationship you carried with your step-sibling and that maybe you were just slightly a bit too close. That made them uncomfortable. 

Every time they would come over, Jungkook was just there. Jungkook always came first. They heard it too many times and saw it with their own eyes. When they finally decided to speak to you about it, you freaked saying it was nothing like that! Your relationship was nothing short of platonic, if anything. Jungkook was just your sweet little dongsaeng. Nothing more, nothing less. What was so strange about that? 

After that, your friends never brought it up ever again. There was no use. You would never see things in the way they would. It still made them uncomfortable from time-to-time, but Jungkook made you so happy so they kept to themselves for your sake. 

Jungkook rushes while in the shower. He scrapes his body clean and practically flies out the shower. Jungkook knows it’s useless right now, but he applies a bit of his costly cologne. Only because he knows you love it so much, you compliment him every time he wears it. Since then, he has bought at least eight more times because he doesn't go a day without wearing the damn scent. He knows you will likely be dead asleep by the time he gets to climb in bed, but he wants it to stick to his skin and last until tomorrow then you will cling and smell the cologne until your nostrils get used to it. 

With one last look into the mirror, Jungkook makes it to your room. The younger is obsessed with your room as much as he is with you. Your room smells, tastes, and looks just like you. 

Every time you aren’t home, Jungkook practically lives in your room. The amount of times he’s masturbated in this exact bed. Your sheets are incredibly soft, very pink and the best part is you leave your scent all over them. Jungkook smells and smells your honey-like scent until he grows desperate, then he’ll make a mess all over himself, being careful so he doesn’t leak into your sheets. However, sometimes he’ll catch himself leaking all over your stuffed animals. The younger doesn’t even feel bad about it, not one bit. He probably should, he’s disgusting and shameful. For now, Jungkook lives with himself and his rancid thoughts. 

When Jungkook gets to your room, he finds you already fast asleep, leaving the left side of your bed open for him. The younger salivates when he sees that your blanket isn’t covering your body, not at all. It’s almost like you’re inviting him, the whole world wants him to fail miserably and you clearly don’t care about his well-being. 

By now, Jungkook is used to the way you dress. It kills him inside whenever he watches you walk out the house, perky breasts and that fat juicy ass tempting every walking man alive the minute you step out that front door. When you’re off to bed, you wear these little boy shorts that drive him insane because they cover nothing. Your plump ass falls right out from the stretchy material and Jungkook desperately wishes he could touch and squeeze until his heart’s content, but he would never touch you without your consent. He’s not an animal!

“Kookie?” He hears you slur in your sleep, small grabby hands reaching for him. Jungkook immediately places himself in bed, letting you wrap around his broad, strong figure. Even in the dark, he can see your ass hanging from outside your shorts. You must have gotten hot while waiting for him given that your blanket was nearly kicked down to the floor. Jungkook doesn’t care to pick it up. 

And why would he? He’ll keep you warm now.

Jungkook falls asleep with ease that night. His nostrils breathing that sweet scent and your light calm exhales lull him straight to dreamland, where his dreams consist of a love so precious and extremely forbidden. 

The next morning, Jungkook wakes up before you, which wasn’t usual at all. He was used to finding you up and running bright and early, cooking him breakfast before leaving to work, like you usually did for him. 

Before he even gets to open his eyes, he feels something push up against his stiff morning wood. It’s almost like he feels something constantly rocking against him, little-by-little. Jungkook shoves his erection deeper into the pillow-like sensation, chasing the enticing— irresistible feeling. 

Jungkook’s hips start moving on their own accord, pushing and thrusting into the soft feeling of clouds. His morning wood grows tenfold when he hears a quiet whimper. He only drives his cock faster and further into that unknown realm, searching for heavenly release. Cock heavy and aching inside his briefs. 

The younger almost jumps out of the bed when he hears the prettiest moan. He’s heard this delightful sound before. Only his Noona has the sweetest of sounds. He hates to admit it, but he’s heard these same moans before. And they didn’t come from his own doing, but Seojun’s. There were nights Jungkook couldn’t catch a wink of sleep because he overheard his step-sister getting fucked for hours on end. 

…

“Fuck. Oh my god. Don’t stop.” He would throw his pillow over his head and squeeze, praying the fucking ended soon which it probably did because Seojun was disappointing as fuck. Pathetic fucking punk. He prayed for that or that he suffocated himself to death, either was fine for him. As long as his suffering was put to an end. 

You sounded fucking perfect though. Jungkook could admit that easily. His Noona sure had a filthy mouth on her. Jungkook wanted to plug it with his fat cock. He wishes it was him instead and maybe one day it will. For now, he’ll continue dreaming. 

“Yeah? Like that?” Seojun would grunt while Jungkook rolled his eyes until they would hit the back of his head. He couldn’t do this anymore. Jungkook knows it’s as easy as bringing it up, but how could he look at his perfect step-sister and say that to her! He simply refuses. 

“Yes, like that. Yes please. Fuck, fuck, fuck— nghh!” And Jungkook was truly the worst. He could only hold himself back so much! 

Jungkook rips the drawer open in his room, feeling around for lube, lotion fucking anything that will get his dick wet and when he finally finds it, he squirts a considerable amount and starts fisting his slicken cock. He grows thicker in his own hand. Jungkook wonders how his cock would look if it were your hand instead. He moans just imagining the idea.

“Coming.” Seojun’s muffled groans also echoed in his room. He doesn’t know how you do it and to be frank, he wishes Seojun would just shut the fuck up and do his job. The younger smirks knowing he’s struggling, leaving you in disappointment. He’s positive he’s never had his dick wet for more than ten minutes. What a bum! Can’t even please his girl. 

Jungkook hears your moans grow louder. He swears he can hear them ringing in his fucking ears. Like you purposely wanna get caught. Jungkook gets too much into his head because he starts growing desperate, nearly coming all over himself. 

If the situation was different, Jungkook knows he wouldn’t stop fucking you until you were passed out. It was only fair. You needed a real man, someone who could satisfy you without question. He knows he could do it. Fuck being experienced. Why does someone need all this experience if Seojun is proving that even by being a manwhore that doesn’t guarantee you a happy sex life or jackshit. 

Point is, Seojun sucks and Jungkook will imagine it’s him instead of that lame fucker. He’ll imagine it’s him that’s making you feel all those things, that’s making you scream into the pillow. Though if it had really been him, Jungkook would snatch that pillow away from your mouth. He would want to hear every single sound that comes from your pouty mouth. Fuck, Jungkook couldn’t wait for you to be his and only his. 

That night, Jungkook came all over his hand, some landing on his face. He wishes you were there to lick it clean.

… 

Even in his fucking dreams, Jungkook feels like he can’t catch a fucking break. 

His hips still, he doesn’t wanna further embarrass himself by humping into his step-sister’s ass like some horny desperate teenager. Jungkook knew this was a terrible idea, especially considering that he’s had the hardest time keeping his dirty— filth of thoughts to himself. Jungkook didn’t know how much longer he could live without knowing the taste of that perfect little pussy. How snuggly you would fit around his huge cock. He knows you could take him so well, you were made for him after all. 

“S okay Jungkookie, ‘s normal. Noona isn’t mad.” The younger pretends to be asleep while he hears you babble in sleep, but you know he isn’t and to save his dignity (and yours) you allow it. Jungkook can’t help, but to think maybe you wanted it too. Was that crazy? 

You both fall back to sleep. This time Jungkook gives you a respectful distance so he doesn’t commit the same mistake as before and when he wakes up, you act as if nothing happened and Jungkook appreciates that. He had the absolute best Noona, always looking out for her dongsaeng, no matter the situation. 

As the days pass, you and Jungkook spend a lot of time together. Maybe it’s because you are single again or maybe it’s because you just wanna spend time with your (not so) little step-brother. 

Jungkook’s the happiest. He no longer has to listen to you talk about Seojun and he gets to spend all the time in the world with you. For some time, he believes things are perfect. 

Every night, you fall asleep on his chest. Waking up in his arms and Jungkook falls in love harder. Sometimes he steals kisses while you are sleeping. You wouldn’t mind, right? 

He kisses your chubby cheeks, kisses your cute button nose, he’ll even kiss your smaller fingers, one-by-one. He has yet to taste those plump lips, but he doesn’t doubt they don't taste of flowers and honey. 

“Jungkookie, you think you could fetch me my shoes? I left them near the closet door.” The younger hears you call out to him and being the good step-brother he was, he snatches your shoes up and starts walking away. It seems you forgot something else because Jungkook snaps his eyes to your phone, which starts buzzing with notifications. 

Jungkook knew your password of course, you didn’t hide anything from your baby step-brother and he knows it would be wrong to invade your privacy, but he simply wants to see who it is. There’s absolutely no harm in that! 

The taller snatches up your phone, disconnecting it from the charger and he sees red for a minute. 

Three missed texts and two missed calls, in bold texts your phone reads, Seojun❤️.

He immediately smashes in your passcode without hesitation and any permission. What he finds is absolutely disgusting. Jungkook feels sick. 

Seojun❤️: i miss you baby :(  been thinking of that pussy can’t wait to stuff you full soon

Jungkook goes back to the messages from before, his ears are hot. He doesn’t know whether to scream or cry his eyes out. 

Seojun❤️: coming over

Asshole doesn’t even ask for permission, just does what he feels is right and that only riles Jungkook further. 

Me: don’t can't tonight jungkook's home

Good girl, good Noona. He knew he could trust you, if only this asshole understood that you didn’t need anyone else and left you alone. Jungkook took care of you just fine. Just you and him. Always.

Seojun❤️: that never stopped us before? 

Me: jun, please. not tonight.

Seojun❤️: so when?  you guys are close again or what?  you know how i feel about that guy. 

Jungkook’s burning inside. He knows how you feel about him? The fuck was his problem. Jungkook’s tempted to smash your fucking phone in pieces. He’ll buy you a new one and it certainly won’t have this asshole’s number. 

Me: he’s not just some guy. he’s my younger brother. of course we are close.  soon. i’ll come see you soon. 

Seojun❤️: step. step-brother. 

Me: what does that have to do with anything jun?  he’s like a little brother to me. 

Seojun❤️: can he say the same? 

What. The. Fuck. 

Jungkook was gonna kill this stupid fuck. 

Me: don’t talk about him that way.  talk to you later. 

Seojun❤️: whatever. 

Then Jungkook rereads the messages over and over again. He’s fucking fuming. The younger hears the door before he hears you coming. 

“Jungkook.” Your voice drowns in his ears. He snaps a mean gaze towards you, your phone is in his hands and he’s shaking. “Oh Jungkookie… I can explain.” 

Jungkook throws your phone, landing hard against your bed, it bounces and falls to the floor. You jump in fear, your eyes widen, mouth parting slightly. 

“Don’t. I’ve seen it all.” Your step-brother’s voice trembles. His voice is cold and rough around the edges. “How fucking could you Noona?” 

You gasp at the sudden use of cuss words. Jungkook doesn’t cuss, not in front of you, not ever. He was a good boy, a very good boy. 

“Jungkook, listen—” 

“Shut up!” Jungkook snaps harshly. Those doe-eyes turn violent. “How could you!” 

“H-He— we were just testing the waters.” You explain with a pout, your tears already threaten to fall. Jungkook isn’t a yeller. He never loses his patience, no matter how upset he could be, but you’ve officially cracked him. 

“Testing the waters?” Jungkook ridicules with a dry laugh, eyes rolling. He couldn’t believe his ears. 

“Y-Yes.” 

“You’re back with him.” The younger one says as if it’s a statement. His tone is sharp, dripping of disbelief and hatred. Jungkook scoffs. “I can’t fucking believe you, after everything!”

“Puh— please stop yelling at me.” Jungkook’s eyes soften for a little when he hears your voice shake and eyes dampen with tears. 

His voice is still rough as he continues to spew the fire. “You really think he could keep you happy? That he could satisfy you? When will you finally see it, Noona? He’s fucking pathetic. Loser excuse of a man.” 

Your pout grows bigger and you start crying softly, embarrassed that the scolding is coming from someone younger, coming from the one person that should be learning from you. Shamefully, you can’t even look him in the eyes, you avoid his sharp gaze and continue crying pretty tears. 

Jungkook keeps spitting his words at you and you can’t bear them much longer. “You really think he will ever know what is best for you? That he could provide for you? I bet he—”

“And you do?!” You yell between your blur of tears, feeling like shit. 

“I do! I fucking do. Everything I do is for you, for us Noona. I’m here working my ass off to rebuild you and you let him break you over and over! Aren’t you sick of him? Sick of this? Because I am. I fucking am. I hate him and I hate that you let him come between us!” The taller uses his height to his advantage, towering over you while he spews his truth. 

“For me? For us?” You speak in disbelief, scoffing and wiping off your tears roughly with your long sleeve. “Jungkook, you speak like we are together! This isn’t normal. The way you care for me, it— it isn’t normal. You should be getting lost in the lights at your age, dating around. I’ve never seen you even speak to another girl besides me! It’s strange! Plus, Seojun… he’s truly the only one that cares for me. Besides you.” 

Jungkook explodes. The taller tugs you towards him, a strong hand on your throat while he squeezes mercilessly. You immediately wrap your hands around his wrists, trying to shove him off, but Jungkook’s much taller, much stronger than you are. It’s no use, the more you pull, the more he tightens his hold. You struggle to breathe, hiccuping dry tears. 

“I really tried to do this your way Noona. I tried to be patient and do this at your pace, but you’re fucking clueless. I love you. Don’t you see it? Of course I care. I’ve always cared. I’ve loved you since the very first day. I tried to overcome these emotions but the more I denied them, the stronger they became. I let them consume me. I’ve never been more at peace, but I can’t stand here and watch you ruin yourself any longer. I can’t. You and Seojun are done. Do you understand?” Jungkook’s hand is still on your throat and you just nod desperately, hoping that he lets go some time soon. 

You should have known, should have seen it coming. People warned you, at least, they tried. You wouldn’t listen and refused to believe it (or see it). Jungkook wasn’t a bad person, he still isn’t. He’s just confused and young. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He’s not in love it’s just fascination, yeah, you’ll say that for now because it makes you feel better. Not because you definitely feel something splur in your own (tainted) heart. 

“Good baby, good. I never wanna see, hear, or know anything about that stupid fuck ever again.” Jungkook loosens his grip a bit and you immediately take a gush of breath. “He’s not good for you. Never will be. You deserve so much more Noona, isn’t that right?” 

Between a few tears, you keep nodding. 

“Yeah, only Daddy knows what’s best for you. Right?” The younger one doesn't even blink when saying the words. For a second, you think about who he is referring to as daddy, but then you realize. This was so fucking wrong, and yet you feel yourself slipping already. Maybe he was right. What’s the point of denying it? “Only I could ever love you the way you deserve to be loved. Uh baby?”

You nod with a muffle cry. 

“Speak.” Jungkook orders. “Tell Daddy that he’s right. Let me hear it.” 

“Y-Yes Daddy.” He hears you sweetly comply and even through a blur of tears, you see him smiling down at you. 

“Good, good girl. Now, give Daddy a kiss baby.” Jungkook leans down and you hesitantly meet him halfway. The kiss is very sweet considering the pressing situation. Jungkook curls his lips around yours like there’s nothing off or wrong about this situation. He doesn’t seem to mind this at all, like he’s been dying to get to do this with you. You don’t know whether to be happy about that idea or fall sick to your stomach. Either way, you continue to kiss him. 

The taller pries your mouth open with his tongue and you allow him access, pouty lips slack. Jungkook sucks and licks into your mouth, greedily tasting the juices on your tongue. His tongue clashes with your messily, spit mixing in the process. It's dirty and filthy. And it is extremely wrong. 

You feel so guilty because you’re the older one of the two. You should be the one putting a stop to this, but the more his tongue explores your mouth, the more you dip into the dark— alluring abyss.

“Been dying to do that.” Jungkook breathes into your lips savoring the taste of your salty tears and cherry chapstick in his mouth. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited.” 

You whimper quietly and the younger soothes you in his arms. “W-We shouldn’t, Jungkook, not yu—you.”

His smile wavers for a second. “Don’t be scared, Noona. Who else other than me huh? Who can love you like I love you?” 

You close your sad eyes to imagine what would have happened if you just came to grab your shoes yourself, wishing you had done that instead. You would have seen your phone and picked up the call instead. This was so wrong. With a deep sigh, you let the darkness consume you too. 

“I love you, Noona.” Jungkook whispers, his eyes awfully speaking the truth. 

“I-I love you too.” The taller smiles and kisses you once again, this time you don’t even fight it. You don’t hesitate. You take time to enjoy the feel of his lips moving passionately against yours and let yourself be loved. For once, you feel loved and that’s enough for you.

Jungkook takes your cheeks in his calloused hands and starts kissing everywhere. Leaving his trace all over your face. He kisses your nose, your forehead, your lips again. Jungkook brings his nose across your jaw, leaving little pecks here and there. When he reaches your neck, he starts licking and sucking every inch of sensitive skin, hoping to leave his marks behind.

The younger is satisfied when he sees the dark spots he’s left to beautifully decorate your skin. 

“Open.” He taps two fingers against your mouth, wrapping his other hand around your neck and you slightly slack your jaw on command. Jungkook shoves those two fingers into your mouth, pushing them down against your wet compliant tongue. He watches you struggle to take them further, gagging a few times around his sloppy fingers. Jungkook was right, you look so fucking good when something is fucking your mouth. “So good for Daddy.” 

Whining against his fingers, Jungkook pulls them out. Cock already feeling tight and heavy inside his pants. He couldn’t wait to get out of these and you weren’t doing any better. You could feel slick start to dampen your panties.

“So pretty, Noona. The prettiest.” Jungkook starts to kiss you again. It starts off a bit slow, but there’s hunger in the way he looks at you. He’s waited so long for this moment, he doesn’t wanna hold back any longer. The younger wants to let it all go tonight. It’s only right. There’s no more hiding, no more secrets. Jungkook was gonna claim what was so rightfully his. 

“J-Jungkookie, maybe we should–” The taller licks into your mouth before you can continue and you grow really desperate, feet shuffling from nerves. You need to stop this before it gets any further, before it gets to the point of no return. “Wuh-we should s-stop.”

Jungkook ignores you. He sucks and bites your bottom lip into his mouth and you’re starting to lose sense of everything so quickly. Suddenly, Jungkook’s hand is at your throat again, but he doesn’t squeeze it. He just holds it, kisses around your face with gentle movements. “You have the nerve for sure Noona, don’t you think you owe me an apology. Huh baby?”

“I– I’m sorry.” Jungkook would be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on the way you quickly adapted and complied. 

He shakes his head, squishing your cute cheeks together, tempted to kiss them both and he does after he’s done speaking. “That simply won’t do. Think that’s enough for everything you’ve done to Daddy? For all the hurt you caused? Get on your knees baby.” 

And what else can you do, but drop on your fragile knees. The second your knees hit the hard, cold floor, you whimper in pain. 

“Hurts? Here, my love.” Jungkook awes with empathic doe-eyes, without hesitation he reaches for one of your softest pillows and places it down below your knees, helping you onto the comfortable cushion. “Better?” 

It is shocking and not at the same time, how quickly Jungkook seems to be okay and fine with this whole thing. If it’s true that he’s been dying to do this for years then in a fucked up way, it kinda makes sense, but it doesn’t change the fact that you guys are family, on paper and in every way that it matters. Your parents are married for fuck’s sake. 

“Yes.” You simply respond and Jungkook smiles contentedly. 

“Yes what?” He asks, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You hesitate, but end up giving in. Does it even really matter anymore? The deed had been done. You fucked yourself over the second you let him take control of the situation. Jungkook owns you. “Yes Daddy.”

Jungkook towers over you, thick muscular thighs stand tall before you. He hums satisfied with your response. “Open up wide for Daddy.”

The taller has quick hands on his belt, snatching it off himself. Then he pulls his jeans down and tosses them aside without care. He keeps his briefs on for now. Jungkook needs to have you work for it, just a bit. It’s his right after all. 

“Pull my dick out.” He rasply orders and you gulp at the sight. He’s packing, you can’t even see it yet, but you are sure the real thing is not much different. Your hands shake as they come up to the waistband of his boxers. You’re about to see your baby step-brother’s cock and you don’t even seem bothered enough to care. 

Carefully, you pull them down slowly, revealing inch-by-inch. The tip of his dick pops out first, his slit already dripping pre-come. You practically salviate, gums aching to feel the weight of it on your tongue. Jungkook swears he might fucking burst all over your face before he even gets to stick it in. Though he hates Seojun’s guts, he kinda gets it now. Your soft touch on his sensitive girth nearly makes him shiver. 

To be fair, it is Jungkook’s first time! He’s never, ever done this before. He saved himself for the only person that deserved to have him. It was easy for him actually. There was not a damn person that made or could ever make him question his choice. He knew from the very beginning, it was you or no one else. 

Jungkook would be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit terrified. He doesn’t wanna ruin this whole thing, he’s seen plenty of videos online, mainly through Twitter courtesy of Taehyung. Jungkook is extremely grateful. Seriously, he doesn’t know what he would have done without him. He doesn’t trust much people, but when he confessed at his grown age of twenty-two that he was still a virgin during a night of mixed drinks, Taehyung simply brushed it off and told him there was nothing wrong about that! 

Taehyung understood him to some degree. Sex is an intimate experience and you should only ever share it with the people who you truly love, but he was a manslut, through-and-through, so he couldn’t comprehend how Jungkook has lived so long without it. Major respect and props to him, but Taehyung could fucking never. 

Either way, Taehyung would send clips here and there as pointers to what some people could possibly like and enjoy during sex. Jungkook took plenty of mental notes, he was beyond ready. He shouldn’t be this nervous, but now that he has you right where he wants you, he’s shaking inside. He doesn’t know how sex workers do this on the regular. 

Finally, his dick is out, the whole nine-inch monster and you don’t even have the ability to face him anymore. His cock weighs heavy on your smaller hand. It’s the perfect fit, Jungkook thinks. 

With a shallow swallow, Jungkook tugs your head toward it. His tip leaks a bit and Jungkook hopes you don’t notice that he has no clue what he’s doing. After watching porn for so long, he can only hope that everything he’s doing so far is pleasurable for you both. 

“Lick it.” He says, voice rough and you do as told. 

Cautiously, your pink tongue slips out and experimentally starts licking. The second your moist tongue is on his cock, Jungkook’s guttural moan escapes his throat. 

This was gonna be much harder than he thought, but Jungkook’s been practicing. Jungkook is determined to last longer than any other fuck you’ve ever had. He’s determined to be the best and show you exactly what you’ve been missing, wasting all that time on stupid fucks that could never please and love you the way he could. 

“Open wider baby, yeah just like that.” Along with the tip of his cock, Jungkook shoves his thumb inside. Your mouth is so wet and warm, taking him exactly how he imagined you would. The younger wonders how much more you could take. 

“Gonna fuck your mouth now.” With one last warning, Jungkook plants his feet firmly and thrusts himself deep, causing you to gag so prettily around him when the tip hits the back of your throat. 

Clearly, you aren’t used to taking so much cock at once, Jungkook supposes he could go easier on you. But do you really deserve that from him? 

Jungkook doesn’t think so. 

So he fucks into your mouth harder and faster, his thumbs cleaning the tears that run down your face. Jungkook doesn’t hold back any sounds, he moans roughly when you suck a bit harder on it like you want it to hurt him. Good thing Jungkook likes the pain. It’s why he tatted himself so many times. Jungkook embraces everything, even punishing pain. 

“Easy with your teeth baby, don’t wanna hurt Daddy, do we?” The younger is a bit taken back when he sees you nod furiously, mouth full of cock, struggling while taking him deeper. God, you truly do look the best this way. “Oh? How will Daddy fuck you then silly?” 

You whine muffles with his girth down your throat, secretly rolling your hips on the pillow, rubbing friction against your clothed sex. 

“Huh? What’d you say?” Jungkook teases as he continues to brutally fuck your sloppy mouth, spit leaking down your chin. “I can’t understand you. Sorry!”

But he’s not sorry, not one bit! He practically eats you alive with his eyes, feeling the heat start to form in his stomach. Jungkook’s ready to come. 

He forces you to deepthroat him with a ruthless thrust, pushing your head down on his length, as far as you could go. Jungkook doesn’t dare let go until your eyes water beyond control and he doesn’t hear you breathe through your nose. When he releases the tight grip on your head, you are desperately breathing heavily, coughing spit.

“Puh—Please.” Your voice breaks. Jungkook looks down and almost feels bad, you look a mess. Pretty little mess. “N-No more.” 

He considers it, but he won’t let you go that easy. “Make me come, then you can beg for mercy after.”

Even after all this, Jungkook’s words surprise you. How? How was it fucking possible? For so long, you believed Jungkook was a certain person, a kind-hearted, romantic sweetheart. In a way, he still is. Jungkook truly believes that this was meant for him. That his whole purpose was to be yours. He never showed this side of himself ever and maybe that’s why it terrifies you. How much is he capable of and how much are you willing to give up for him? 

Jungkook throws his head back and moans loudly when you start sucking with purpose, your intentions set clear. He’ll come within seconds if you continue like this. 

You don’t let up. If he wants to come, he will. You suck down hard, taking his cock as far as your throat allows. There’s no need to lie, Jungkook tastes and even smells amazing down there. You’ve always known he’s been a clean freak, but he really does take care of himself well. 

Gargling him down, Jungkook starts to whine and slow down his pace, but you continue your menacing behavior, sucking him off the way you imagined he would like it. And Jungkook starts seeing stars. He knows that after this, he’ll never want to not do this. This was much, much better than fisting his own cock. You’ve completely ruined him. 

“I— I’m gonna come.” Jungkook says and almost immediately comes, bursting his release inside your mouth. “Swallow it.” 

There’s no doubt that you won’t. You continue sucking until he’s completely empty and swallow him down. 

Jungkook’s eyes are unrecognizable. Not that he looks any different besides his fucked out state, but they are so sharp and dangerously sexy. “Show me.” 

You stick your tongue out as far as you can and show him how nicely you’ve cleaned up after him, Jungkook could come again. 

Once he’s satisfied, his rough voice booms. “Come here.” 

You stand on two feet, your cunt is surely dripping because you feel your panties sticking to your folds. Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to take you back in his mouth, not bothered one bit about the fact that you just swallowed his semen. He licks into your mouth like he’s famished, tasting himself on your tongue. Jungkook doesn’t know how he will survive without this now. 

“Lie down. On your stomach.” Even though you’ve pretty much gone as far as you can with this, you still hesitate. Maybe it's your guilt or maybe it’s because you are liking this much more than you should, that you still comply even when you shouldn’t. 

Your pillow gets left and forgotten where it currently sits and you lay down, stomach pressing into the mattress. Jungkook pats your head and you nearly purr. 

“Lift yourself up baby.” Jungkook’s so fucking hard still, he doesn’t get how this is possible. Staring at your perfect petite figure, he starts to get it. “Gonna take these off now.” 

Jungkook slowly tugs on your shorts and you shake your head, stopping him once again, your hand flies to his wrist.  “N-No.”

“Don’t make me tie your hands Noona, be good for me pretty.” And once again, Jungkook wins. You don’t see yourself winning any time soon. “Gonna undress you now, keep those precious hands away from me for now.” 

Repeating his actions from earlier, Jungkook pulls down your shorts and your ass falls right from out the lousy material. 

“Fuck.” Jungkook curses, taking in the view as you whimper softly. Your ass is even better, almost bare, your fat pussy peeks through your thin panties. He runs his finger along where your slit should be, feeling your slick dampen his fingertip over the fabric, moaning quietly. The large wet spot on your soiled panties, told him all he needed to know, you wanted this just as much as he did. 

With his index finger, he curls his finger along your waistband and brings your panties off as well and the sight doesn’t disappoint. Jungkook licks his dry lips and starts to get to work. 

The younger spreads your folds into a “V” and sticks his nose so far into your glistening cunt without warning. Jungkook starts to eat you out like never before and you crumble, moaning and squealing against the feeling of his perfect lips munching on your dripping pussy. 

The taller doesn’t let you get any further, heavy-hand on your hip while he keeps you in place. He slurps your sweet slick into his mouth, swallowing down every drop greedily without any fucking plans on stopping soon. Jungkook has found his purpose.

Jungkook was made to eat your fat juicy pussy. There wasn’t anything better than this. Not even the blowjob felt as good as this is making him feel. Jungkook knows that it has nothing to do with your skills or anything of the sort, but because he loves the way you push and pull away from him. The more you run, the more he feels like chasing. He’s addicted to the strangled sounds that escape your lips, crying out loudly against your will. It was perfect! 

You squeal when you feel him suckle on your sensitive bud, playing with it between his teeth. He’s almost tempted to bite, but he’s hurt his baby enough. “S good Noona, tastes like candy.” 

His words vibrate inside your cunt and you already feel your climax coming in heavy. He was gonna drive you insane! 

“Please… oh my god. Please. I can’t.” You swear you feel Jungkook smiling even as he’s eating you out, nose deep inside your cute little cunt. Guess that answers his question, you are definitely enjoying yourself way more than you should. 

“You can baby, you fucking will.” He nearly growls into your folds, licking and eating everything he could swallow like a madman. Jungkook didn’t wanna stop until you had nothing more to give, until your pussy stopped oozing out that sweet essence. But it seems the more he licks, the more that squirts out! 

Jungkook doesn’t mind though, not at all, not even one bit. He’ll eat your pussy until it kills him. 

“Ohhhh, nhmmm fuck. I- Daddy, I’m cominggg.” He hears your fucked out slur and sucks harder on your clit, lapping at all the juices that kept drizzling down. He’s surprised to hear you call him Daddy, he didn’t ask you to, but you were so good for him either way. Jungkook didn’t need to ask anymore, you were so far gone to care about anything else when his tongue kept slipping inside your messy hole. 

“Come on my tongue baby. Come for Daddy.” With a strangled cry you come and Jungkook feels the second you explode, because your pussy almost flushes out everything it can give him. He sucks it all up though and doesn’t stop until he feels you trembling under his touch, barely holding up. “Good, so good for me baby. God, I love you.” 

Jungkook tosses his shirt aside because he’s grown super hot and looks down at your fucked out figure. All he did was eat pussy, imagine what else he could do with that humongous monster cock he drags around. 

He didn’t fail to notice how pretty your tiny hole was from behind, both of them. Jungkook wanted to eat your ass too, but maybe that was for another time, when he gets the pleasure to focus on one at a time. 

“Turn around for me baby.” The younger one softly speaks. 

There’s a bit of a struggle, but you land on your back successfully and whine when you see his bare figure. Jungkook’s worked his ass off to get it. He’s so strong and shredded, but nonetheless, the sight of his sculpted body makes you drool nearly every time. 

“Gonna put it in now.” The way he says it throws you off, he seems a bit embarrassed, shy maybe? And it doesn’t make sense because not even seconds ago, the younger was so confident about every little thing he was doing to you, ruining you entirely for anyone else. 

“W-Wait.” You rush, pushing your hand against his chest. Jungkook freezes in place, his hand already wrapped around his cock. “Condom?” 

And like that, he snaps again, those once innocent doe-eyes turn dark again and you regret even reminding him. “We won’t be needing that silly Noona, I’m gonna fuck a baby into you and you’re gonna be the perfect Mommy. Won’t you?” 

You wanna shake your head so bad, your mind is screaming at you to say no, to fucking stop him before it’s too fucking late, but your body speaks for you. Your pussy keeps leaking your arousal and you can’t believe your reality. You want it so bad, you don’t really care what comes with the consequences of your actions. If your step-brother wants a baby, well then… 

“Isn’t that right Noona? You’ll be the perfect Mommy.” Jungkook’s voice sounds sinister and you can barely recognize the person he is. “Daddy will take care of you both. Don’t you want that? Huh my love?” 

With sick, deranged thoughts in your head, you slowly nod in agreement and Jungkook scrunches his nose into a sweet, kind smile. “Of course you do. You're the best Noona. Gonna fuck you now okay?” 

You nod again. This time, you pry your legs open for him. Letting him use you the way he wants and needs. Jungkook licks his lips and takes his heavy cock in hand. Before he lines it up, he spits perfectly along his length, coating his dick all around so it could slide in without further complications and then he pushes the tip inside. 

The minute you feel the intrusion, just the fucking tip, you gasp loudly, trembling into his surprisingly gentle touch. 

“C-Can’t. Won’t fu—fit.” You say breaking between whimpers.

Jungkook’s gaze is dark and heavy on you and he gets right into your face when he whispers the next words. “Oh but you will. You already did.” 

Just as you are about to question him, in one powerful blow, Jungkook thrusts himself all the way inside your tight velvety-walls and you run away from his hold. 

And like always, there’s no point. Before you realize it, Jungkook’s pulling out and ramming back inside you. Doesn’t even seem bothered by the painful whines coming from your lips, his eyes are too focused on the way his cock disappears into your perfect pussy. 

There was no better way to lose his virginity, Jungkook thought. This was exactly what he’s been fucking missing all his life. 

The pain simmers eventually and it starts to feel overwhelmingly good. Your pained whimpers turn into high-pitched cries and Jungkook sticks his face into your neck, moaning roughly against your ear while he continues to work his way into your walls. 

Jungkook will never, absolutely never, go back to his fists. The heat, natural slick, and tightness. His fists don’t even come close. 

Skin is clapping on skin, brutally setting a rapid pace. His dick is so sensitive right now, he’s surprised he’s even lasted this long. Jungkook doesn’t even know how fucking long it’s been. Or if your guy's parents will come home soon. He doesn’t even give a fuck. You are his. 

His to fuck. His to play with. And his to love. 

“Gonna come so deep inside this pussy. Gonna make sure you end up swollen and pregnant once I’m done with you. Noona’s so tight.” He breathes heavily into your neck, sweat dripping from the younger. 

His words start to rile you up for some reason. Do you even get a fucking choice? The dicking is almost that good you let yourself fall for a few seconds, allowing Jungkook to fuck into you like some fuck-doll. 

Without thinking, you reach for his fluff of sweaty hair and tug. Hard. When he comes up to question you, you slap him so hard that his face snaps towards that direction. 

Jungkook’s merciless pounding stills. 

For a moment, all you hear is heavy breathing, yours mixed with his. It takes Jungkook a while to look back at you and when you do dare look into his eyes, all you see is dark, dark lust. Lots of it. 

Jungkook pulls you in roughly from your throat for a bruising wet kiss. His cock slips from inside you and you whine into his mouth at the loss. You already want him back inside, you took it for granted. 

The taller chuckles dryly, almost too sexy for his own good when he catches you grinding your folds desperately against his wet length.  “Baby already misses Daddy’s dick. This is how it’s gonna be huh? Okay. I’ll play by your rules baby, don’t fucking say I didn’t warn you.”

You don’t even get the chance to catch your breath when you are already pressed face down into the mattress. Jungkook parts your fat ass, slides his cock between them and teases your sweet little hole menacingly. 

Jungkook slaps his cock down a few times, the whole nine inches, right onto your dripping folds. They practically were screaming for attention and not to worry, Daddy was home. Slick would stick to his cock, maybe he should make you lick him clean. 

“Why?” The younger one hears you crying softly. 

“We’ve been over this Noona, only I’ll ever love you how you deserve to be loved. Stop worrying so much. Want you to come on Daddy’s cock. We’ll talk after m’kay?” Jungkook reasons and stabilizes the situation like if you have any choice in this and as if this wasn’t absolutely sick. “Let me take care of you Noona.” 

The choice was made before you even realized it. 

“Okay… but don’t— don’t come inside Jungkook. I’m not on birth control.” Seojun would always make use of a condom, you forgoing those hormonal-consuming pills. You don’t get to see this, but the younger one smiles wide like if you just gave him the green light. What you don’t know doesn’t harm you. One day, Jungkook thinks. 

“Okay Noona, whatever you say.” Jungkook spits on his cock one last time before he carefully pushes back inside. The prodding feeling still leaves you in between sharp gasps and painful whines, ripping right through you. 

“Oh my god… Jungkook- too big.” You grab your closest pillow nearly tearing through the thin fabric, using it to have something to tug and bite on. 

“Yeahhh, but Noona takes it so well.” Jungkook moans when he feels you squeeze hard around him, basically watching your asshole wink at him too. “Fuck baby, maybe I should fuck this tiny hole too.” 

You whimper when you feel his thumb brushing against the fluttering muscle, back arching into the frail sensation. “Mff—no please, I’ve n-never done it. Please.”

“Okay. Not today baby.” Not today or ever again you hope. You pray that whatever is happening today starts and ends today, but for now, you settle for that answer. 

But the second Jungkook’s thumb leaves your delicate asshole, he grips onto the fat of your ass cheeks and starts mounting you from behind like an animal. The stretch still burns, not used to taking so much at once, but he can tell when it starts feeling equally as good for you because you squirm on his cock like a worm. He watches you pull away from him, but he’s gripping you hard, feeling that ass bounce back on him. Jungkook curses when he hears you start moaning into your pillows. 

“Nu-uh, wanna hear it.” He pulls you by your throat, your back flushing against his sweaty rising chest. In this position, he’s reaching deeper inside your cunt, g-spot being constantly abused. 

“Fuck-k-k, oh fuck —nghh.” Jungkook practically soaks in every noise that comes from your mouth, hips clapping hard into your ass. He takes the time to enjoy this, squeezing the fat that jiggles. Maybe he’ll convince you next time to let him fuck your tight ass. After all, he knows Noona could never say no to her sweetest dongsaeng.

The younger sucks more hickeys onto your skin, anywhere that he can really. Jungkook sucks one on the side of your neck, shoulder, and your back. He’s obsessed. Tomorrow he shall do the exact same thing, he’ll keep you on his cock forever now that he knows what it is like. Taehyung was so right. Sex was amazing. 

“Let me hear you Noona, think I’ll come just like this.” Jungkook moans roughly in your ear as he continues to pump your walls full of cock, pussy dripping buckets around his length. 

You let out moans like water, feeling his dick destroy your insides, he must have rearranged your guts by now. “Think—think m’ gonna come Daddy.” 

Jungkook smirks, grabbing your chin roughly and kisses you sloppily, including tongue and all. He loves the sound of his name and title from your pouty, gasping mouth. “Fucked you so good baby doesn’t know if she’s coming or not. Daddy’s the best, isn’t he?”

“Ye–yeah Daddy.” You slur in a trippy haze and just like that, you’re dropped into the sheets again, and flipped with ease in his hold. Jungkook’s dick surprisingly doesn’t even slip out and you don’t know if you moaned again because of the feeling of his dick impaling your pelvic walls or because he can toss you around like some rag doll and have his way with you. Daddy’s the strongest. 

Either way your moans are like sin, high pitched whimpers and incoherent mumbles coming from your plump lips like hushed prayers. “Gonna come Daddy, ‘m gonna come ‘s hard.” 

“It’s okay baby. Come on Daddy’s cock. I got you.” Jungkook goes feral when he sees the way you practically convulsate on his dick, squirting all over yourself. He’s only ever seen this on those shitty videos Taehyung sends him and he warned him that it wasn't an easy thing to do, not unless done right and when the other person is really into it. Jungkook’s flying over the moon right now knowing that he’s the reason why you can’t help, but squirt messily all over his cock. “Perfect. Noona’s perfect.”

The taller grips your thighs for support, fucking you through your intense orgasm until your inner thighs are all covered in your silky juices, being pounded into overestimation. Jungkook is really close himself and he knows nothing would compare to coming deep inside your walls, but he should respect his Noona’s wishes, at least this once. 

“Where should I come baby? Huh? Tell me.” Sweat accumulates on his forehead, dripping loads of it. Jungkook’s thighs burn from the same constant movement, practically bunny jackhammering into your pussy. He never imagined such a practice could be so tiring, he doesn’t even have to go work out tonight! 

By this point, you are in and out of consciousness. Jungkook hasn’t stopped splitting you in two, your aching everywhere, but the feeling is mind-blowing. Not even Seojun could make you feel this good, not anyone. 

You were in doubt. Jungkook had to have been experienced by the way he fucked. There’s not enough stamina to fuck the way he does. Jungkook’s a beast and he fucks like one too, using your cunt like a toy he can stick his dick into. Your pussy is stretched in ways unknown to man, perfectly molding around his cock, squeezing him in all the right ways. The more you feel his cock pressing into your pelvic floor, the more you start to realize, Jungkook belongs right here. Where he has been.

“Tell me baby. Want Daddy to come all over your pussy, give you a little facial? Tell me— fuck!” Jungkook’s pants grow hot and heavy, his orgasm approaching him hard. His cock is sensitive to the max, but he doesn’t stop, fucking you relentlessly through it all. 

Another realization hits within that moment. It’s already gone to the point of no return. You’ve sucked your baby step-brother off and let him drop his seed in your mouth. He’s kissed and licked every part of your pussy, like any good boy would. You’ve let your dongsaeng use your most intimate parts for his own personal pleasure and the worst part is you’ve actually enjoyed it all. Selfishly, you decide he’s the only one that could ever be right for you. Jungkook had been right all along, he was made for you. 

“Inside Daddy, wan— you inside.” Jungkook’s hips freeze as he hears you plead so prettily, tears streaming down your flushed face. God, he almost busts the moment he hears your honey-like voice begging for his release. “Please Daddy. Come inside muh— Noona’s pussy.” 

“Yeah, want me inside baby?” He goes back to thrusting, but this time it’s slower, more precise and spot-on, deeper. You’ve completely lost awareness of time as well and maybe a sense of who you were to him. Jungkook fucking you senseless and watching you fall deeper into the heat of haze with no remorse or regret. After this, there was no more to discuss, you were completely his. 

“Yeah— yeah wan it Daddy. Want it.” Jungkook happily complies, knowing you would come around if he just fucked you good enough to forget that you were off that horrid pill and that he could plant his ssed in your fertile little pussy and give you his child to bear. 

His brows furrow as he concentrates on the mess between your legs, it’s beautiful and all his fucking fault. He wants to bury his head into it, but first, he’ll come deep inside that swollen pussy and finish you off. Jungkook takes a moment to adjust and starts jackhammering your cunt again, this time his only purpose is to plant his seed as deep as it can go, claiming even the most sacred parts. Birth control be fucked! 

Jungkook’s thrust grow sloppy by the minute and you don’t know how much longer you can take until he’s fucked you completely faint. Mouth starting to feel parched, Jungkook attaches his lips to yours, kissing you through rough strokes. He devours your lips like honey and feels you start to clench around him again. He feels a little gash of juices trinkle along his slit and Jungkook realizes he’s made you come again by the way your walls clench around his cock. 

“Fuck baby, Daddy’s gonna come inside now.” All you can do is nod between blacking out, not wanting to waste his precious, healthy come. 

With one last growl, Jungkook’s coming deep. The last thing you remember is the heavy weight of Jungkook’s cock twitching and releasing the milky substance across your plushy warm inviting walls.

—-

“Hey honey, how was work today?” Your voice is soft and light as petals while you watch the food come to a boil on the stove, whisking it around and adding a bit more salt for taste while you wait for your husband’s response.

“Fine baby. Had a long meeting with one of our staff members about missing numbers, but the problem was taken care of.” Your husband’s voice is manly and smooth all around, almost husky-like. He goes to kiss your delicate cheek, watching your eyes flutter as he wraps hulky arms around you, bringing your back flush to his front. “Hope you haven’t been on your feet all day, my love. You should be resting, my love.”

You smile at your caring husband, enjoying his musky scent and broad body. “Of course not babe, I’m almost done with the stew. Help me grab a bowl?” 

“Mm.” Your husband hums and retreats to grab a bowl from a cabinet that is far too high for your reach with a quick pat to your ass, giving it a quick squeeze. “This one okay baby?” 

“Yeah!” 

The taller comes back with the empty bowl and you are quick to serve the steamy stew into the dish, always making sure your husband comes home to a warm homemade meal after his long days at work. He watches you from afar admiring the beauty and power his precious wife holds. 

You barely had time to pamper yourself today, but you managed to clean up well. Your hair was in a beautiful half-up half-down pony with the cutest white bow attached. Your makeup was perfect, a little bit of everything to fix the small imperfections you saw in the mirror earlier. And the most perfect little flowy dress with flowers decorating the material to fit your current body shape. You were absolutely perfect. An angel drawn to Earth. 

“You’re so beautiful baby.” Jungkook whispers into your ear, tickling your neck with his cool breath. “Smell so good.” 

“That’s the food.” You both laugh a bit, a hand cupping your swollen stomach pressing himself against your back-end yet again. The feeling was alike anything. He was starting a whole new life alongside the center of his entire world. Jungkook was the happiest he could ever be. 

“Nu-uh, that’s all you. Although, the food does smell impeccable. My tastebuds are craving for something else. Can’t wait to eat you—”

“Stop!” Jungkook laughs as you wack his hands away from your belly and continue to serve his bowl full. 

“Okay, okay.” Jungkook takes his bowl and waits for you at the dining table, you follow closely behind and sit beside him. “Thank you, Noona.”

You don’t get to hear that word often these days, mainly because it reminds you both of your previous relationship, but the younger one lets it slip from time-to-time, still as sweet as before, always by your side and doing his absolute best to please and look after you and the new addition. 

Coming from a broken family, Jungkook never imagined a life could be so simple and beautiful. Lately, Jungkook’s life is like a movie. He can’t believe this all belongs to him, what more can a man ask for. He has the kindest, most beautiful wife and she bears his healthy infant in her huge pregnant tummy. He owns a huge house, working his ass off to get it and established himself pretty early in his career, buying his wife only the best of things. Jungkook settled only for the best and he found that besides you, a true happily ever after, if you will. 

The rest is simply history, unimportant through your eyes. The only thing that mattered now is that you were both happy and extremely loved. 

The end!

[violetsiren90]

Blame Me (Teaser) | Jungkook/Reader

Pairing: Jungkook/Noona Reader (fem reader)

Genre: Best friend's younger brother; slow burn; friends to lovers; eventual romance; eventual smut; neighbors/childhood friends au; forbidden(ish) love; summer love

Summary: Upon returning to your hometown after breaking off your engagement to your boyfriend of three years, you reconnect with your childhood bestfriend as you attempt to put the pieces of your life back together. It seems like nothing has changed in the sleepy little town until your bestie's younger brother returns home from college - very, very grown. As the summer stretches on, the stakes get higher - can you play with fire without getting burned, or have you ignited a flame that won't be extinguished?

Warnings: 18+ (minors, dni); age-gap relationship (between consenting adults); lots of fluff; explicit smut (chapters will have their own warnings); secret relationships; angsty moments; messy situations/relationships; JK on a motorcycle; working through insecurities

Release date: Mid-late May

Author's note: Hello! This will be my first time posting a full-fledged chapter-installment fic here, but I'm excited because I've had this concept brewing in the back of my mind for a while now and BTS Chapter 2 Jungkook, with his curly hair and all his flirty little lives has me soft AF 😂🥰. After launching chapter one, I'm aiming to update twice a month. The teaser below is just a snippet of an interaction to give you a feel for their dynamic.

If you want to be added to the tag list, comment or send me an ask to let me know!

________________________________________

He slug his leg over the bike and settled in, hands on the bars, and flashed a smile over at you that made you suspect he knew just how good he looked sitting there in all that denim.

"C'mon, noona!" He urged, rolling his wrist to rev the engine as his booted foot kicked up the stand. You had never been on a motorcycle before, and if you were being honest with yourself, you were a little terrified of the idea of flying down the road so exposed and precariously perched.

"I don't know, Jungkook..." you wavered, crossing your arms over your chest but advancing a step or two to examine the machine humming under his weight. As you roved your eyes uncertainly over the bike, he reached out and grabbed your arm, pulling you gently but firmly to him. 

"Don't you trust me?" He cooed, batting his long lashes over the most obnoxiously irresistible pair of puppy eyes.

"Don't look at me like that!" you chided. He continued to look at you exactly like that. You sighed in defeat.

"Fine," you mumbled, and he let out a laugh, turning to grab the helmet perched behind him and press it over your head before you could protest. You narrowed your eyes at him, your hair pinned sloppily between the two pads of foam squishing together your cheeks. He stared at you for a moment then burst into a fit of laughter.

"Hey!" you whined, but it was hard to be mad at him with his eyes pressed into little crescent moons and his smile so wide and so gloriously blinding as he held his sides and rocked to and fro like a cartoon character. You smiled a small smile in spite of yourself.

"Okay, okay," you sighed, "I know I look dumb, but that was a bit much, don't you think?" Still smiling brightly and chuckling he reached over and buckled the strap under your chin, then patted the top of the helmet.

"Jolla gwiyeobda!" He giggled, tapping your nose. You felt a flush creep over your face and neck which he seemed blessedly oblivious to as he guided you up behind him onto the bike. As soon as your body made contact with the seat, gravity, that crafty bitch, pulled your hips down snugly against his ass, your thighs sliding firmly against the outsides of his own. You kept your hands gingerly on his shoulders as you activated every muscle in your core in an attempt to sit upright. He pulled a helmet over his mop of curls before plucking your hands from his shoulders to guide them around his waist, pulling your chest flush against his torso.

"Tighter, noona!" You could hear the smirk in his voice. This kid. He damn well better not be able to feel your heart beating at a million miles an hour into his back, you thought to yourself in mild distress.

"Like this?" you asked squeezing harder around his waist, and trying your absolute level best to ignore the definition and firmness of his muscles beneath your touch. He hummed in assent. You could still hear that damn smirk.

One rev.

Two revs.

You pressed your eyes shut and curled your head into his back.

He let out a bright peel of laughter.

And then suddenly, you were gliding forward. Faster and faster. You peeked an eye open to discover that in a few short seconds, you had already almost cleared the neighborhood. You cut through the warm evening air like bullet as trees and quaint suburban homes gave way to rolling fields of fertile green. As your broke into the open farmland, your breath caught in your throat. These were the same planes and hills that had met you for years, and yet it was as if you had never really seen them, not until now - with nothing but the wind between you and all of it, the swells of the earth and the sunset. Is this what it felt like to fly? Every ounce of trepidation in your body had been replaced with a euphoric thrill. Did he feel it too? Suddenly he let out a whooping howl that you could barely hear above the roar of the air whipping around you.

Yeah, he must feel it. You smiled. He had before said that sometimes freedom was just hitting the ground running. He said that sometimes you had to take risks to remind yourself that you were alive. As you pressed your cheek into the strong warmth of his back, you began to think you might have a thing or two to learn. And he might be the one to teach you.

-End teaser-

[lolabangtan]

STAY | 16

It’s time you step up and talk things out with Jungkook.

index • previous

Word count: 12k

Warnings: smut.

# hurt/comfort, themed grad party where things happen 👀, not as dramatic as you’d think, Ari Besto Friendo, lovemaking *ugly sobs*, ‘spanking’, ‘rough’ handjob, mommy kink, spitting, squirting, overstimulation, “choking”, orgasm denial, unprotected vaginal sex, soft degrading kink.

A/N: this is the end. See you in therapy. Also, I recommend you to listen to the playlist while reading, it gets you.

“What happened with Ms Min?”

Seokjin looks to the side and says, “She got caught up with work and asked me to step in for her.”

“Oh, I see…” Professor Choi murmurs. Then he nods, beckoning him to take a seat. “We were just starting with the meeting. Thank you for joining us, Mr Kim. So, as I was saying, the most voted theme for the graduation party…”

The looks of curiosity are heavy on his nape as Seokjin walks across the class. There’s only one seat left and, unfortunately, it’s right next to Jeon Jungkook.

“Hey,” he whispers.

The boy, of course, doesn’t answer.

Seokjin takes a seat anyways and waits for the professor to pick up the meeting where it left off before the interruption. As Mr Choi informs them, the graduation theme is, by almost unanimous choice, a prom with nostalgic airs. There is nothing better than reliving one’s youth, as long as it was pleasant, and since the sufferers did not dare to say that it was hell for them, that is how the vote stood.

The committee gets down to work once everything is discussed; from where the party will be held to what drinks will be served, everyone works as a team.

Jungkook, however, feels pressure in his chest.

He won’t be coming, he’s sure of that. Can’t even imagine the idea of getting drunk in public again. And he doesn’t know what’s worse, the fact that he almost slept with someone or the fact that there was no reason he shouldn’t have. If you had truly not broken up, wouldn’t you have come to him already, screaming blue murder?

As he makes a quick doodle of the table layout under a senior’s supervision, Seokjin leans into him from his side; he’s been annoyingly trying to get closer to him ever since the meeting started. Jungkook moves his arm and covers the paper.

“Oh, oppa, can you take care of him?” the girl asks. “You remember best how’s the pavilion, and I have no idea how many tables we can fit in there!”

“Sure.”

They wait until their classmate is gone. “I don’t need your stupid help.”

“Ugh, God—” The eldest crosses his arms. “How much longer are you gonna act up like this? You’re just making people uncomfortable, and you’re self-sabotaging. I’m sure you’re smarter than that.”

“Are you calling me dumb?” Jungkook blurts out.

“Is that what you think I’m trying to say?”

But Jungkook makes no answer – instead, he takes his drawing and brings it to another of the seniors who is more familiar with the layout of the pavilion. He no longer needs Kim Seokjin and his stupid help, and he’s not the only one who knows the place better than a sophomore who’s never stepped in there.

The meeting ends half an hour later. Everyone is released to go to their classes, and Jungkook hurries off to lock himself in his room and not return. He just hopes that his nemesis has unfinished business to do on the other side of campus, or even better, the other side of town.

Today, however, is not his lucky day.

“Hey, Jungkook-ssi.” Seokjin comes in seconds after and closes the door with care. “Can we talk?”

The youngest is lying face down on the bed. If he doesn’t move, it would look like he’s asleep, and his senior would leave him alone; Jungkook doesn’t want to listen to any of the silly excuses he has to make.

“I know you’re awake, you’re still wearing your outdoor clothes. Can’t even imagine all that dirt impregnating your clean sheets right now…”

Don’t fall for it.

“Oh, and it’s the first time I see your shoes on the bed too!”

Okay, that’s the last straw.

Jungkook jumps off the bed and kicks his shoes off, overwhelmed by the ick. Then he slumps into it again, and Seokjin manages to sit by him like a mother ready to try and make her teenage son come to his senses, making sure to take his shoes off first.

“What’s your fucking problem!” he finally cries out. “What? Are you— are you obsessed with making me miserable or something?”

At his outburst, Seokjin stares at him in silence, totally shocked; it wasn’t his intention to push him to his limits like that, but maybe that’s the only way there is to get him to sit down and talk things out. And it’s a very needed thing, to discuss what the hell is going on – there have been too many victims already, and Jin would like to freeze the number of casualties.

“Now I’m the one who’s got a problem?” Seokjin barks back.

Jungkook grimaces. “Yeah! You—!”

“I what?”

With his breath hitching in his throat and his face colouring in frustration, the youngest goes silent. He’s looking for the words, all those things he’s been wanting to yell at this guy for weeks, and now that he has the chance, Jungkook is beginning to realise he doesn’t even know what to say – and he probably won’t until he figures out what he feels. Right now, his mouth is babbling, and his heart is just as confused.

“You…! Y/N-noona…!” And then he bursts into tears, and Seokjin grimaces in utter pity, suddenly forgetting all the pain this boy has caused you. “She dumped me for you! It’s all your fault! I’m sorry I’m—!”

“What—?”

But Jungkook rambles on, “And now she hates me, and I just can’t forget about her! I love her and she hates me!”

“Okay, o— listen! Man, you got it all wrong!” Seokjin suddenly exclaims, and he stops. “I’m not with Y/N, okay? We’re friends, that’s it! God, isn’t she dating you? How could she be with me?”

All the heat that came to his cheeks disappears in an instant. His brain hasn’t fully processed Seokjin’s words, but there’s a pinch of hope at what they could mean.

“But— but I heard you,” he babbles.

“Heard us?”

“Yeah! You… you told her you love her and that you wanted to be with her!”

Jin frowns – he’s totally lost. “And when was this?”

“It was… the day you came to practice,” Jungkook replies, his voice weaker than ever. “We, uh, had a little quarrel with our friends—”

“The bet, I know all about it. You found out about the bet,” Jin sums up.

“Yeah, and noona said she ‘needed time’, so she left. She also wouldn’t answer my calls, and she texted me that she’d call me back, but she never did. Then I came back home because it was late, and I heard you talking in our room— and you asked her to get back together!”

“Oh, Jesus Christ…”

Rubbing his face with a tired groan, Seokjin sits back down on the bed. His body is suddenly ten years older, and his heart is ten kilos heavier. This is a much bigger deal than he thought it would be.

“Dude, you got it all wrong,” he finally says.

“You said you love her—!”

“Listen, Jungkook-ssi,” Seokjin cuts him off, “I didn’t mean it… romantically! We used to be friends, you know, but Y/N really resented me after we broke up,” he explains then. “I messed up and hurt her. So, I was, uh, apologising? I love her, that’s true. She’s a very important person to me; important enough for me to want her forgiveness and to want to be friends again.”

“No…”

Suddenly cold, Jungkook has to sit on the bed in front of him; his hands are cold, his chest is pumping and beating like crazy, and his mind is working at such a speed that he can’t even recognise the thoughts passing by anymore. The only thing in his mind is the biggest relief at the discovery that you did not, in fact, dump him, and the gruesome realisation that this is probably the time he has fucked up the most.

“B-but you’re with her all the time!”  he cries out in a poor attempt at defending himself. “And she— and she wouldn’t talk to me!”

“Well, yeah? You were the one to ignore her first!”

“Fuck!”

Jungkook buries his face in his hands and lets out a mournful groan. Now that he’s letting all go, now that he’s finally allowing himself to feel betrayed and hurt and confused, it’s when he finally realises that he was wrong all along.

“Shit…” His whimpers make Seokjin cringe with pity. “I fucked up, I really fucked up— she’s never gonna forgive me.”

The eldest sighs. “I think you’re still in time.”

“Huh?”

“You still have time now that she hasn’t stopped trying to find an explanation for your shitty behaviour. Y/N is the first one who wants to work things out, I’m sure,” Jin continues.

“She said that?”

“Uh, not exactly, but I know her, and I am sure that she wants you back.”

The consequences of his own actions are beginning to weigh on his shoulders. There had always been a fear, disguised as hope, that it had all been a mistake, a misunderstanding of some kind. Of course, Jungkook had decided to keep it inside in case he had to unlearn his grudge, but it never crossed his mind that, in the process, he was hurting you back, and that you could obviously resent him for it too.

In his mind, you had been this giant fortress all these days; an ice-cold barrier without feelings or even the ability to love or be merciful. In Jungkook’s mind, of course, everything you had done had been to hurt him and to let him know that his actual place in your life wasn’t inside your heart but dragged on the floor.

And even then, he couldn’t stop loving you.

He wants to cry, kiss you all over your face, kneel before you, kiss your hands, hug your lap, beg you to take him.

“Hey, don’t look so defeated,” Seokjin says, snapping him out of his depressing self-absorption. “I’m gonna help you, okay? I’ll help you make it up to her.”

“Why?”

But the eldest only shrugs. “She’s hurting too,” he murmurs then, “and I was your age once.”

It’s not like he’s much older than him, but this is the first time in a while someone tries to make him feel better without taking the guilt off him – he’s going to learn from this, but he won’t beat himself up over it. You wouldn’t want that anyway.

“You don’t need to do this.”

“I know,” he says, “but I want to. Besides, it’s not like you’ve killed someone, you know— and Y/N knows you didn’t sleep with that girl.”

“What?” Jungkook lets out, half-relieved.

“Yeah, she heard the rumours, but she didn’t believe them since, well, in her head you were still dating, so she asked Jimin, and he told her.” Well, it’s good to know he still has good friends out there, but he’s weirdly glad. “Try to process it: she didn’t believe them to the point that she called Jimin to confirm them. Man, she’s desperately fishing for a chance to forgive you.”

Full of renewed strength and hope, Jungkook gets up and grabs his backpack, turning to the other guy with an awkward stance.

“Thank you, uh…”

“You can call me Jin-hyung,” he jokes.

But Jungkook smiles. “Thank you, hyung! See ya!”

And then he storms off, leaving his hyung half-confused, half-amused, and a bit hopeful on the bed. Then he remembers he’s got a class to attend too, and he grabs his stuff to leave.

“Who is it?”

You got up as soon as the intercom rang all across the flat; you were wearing your ugliest yet most comfortable clothes, devouring a jar of Greek yoghurt, and naturally, not expecting any visitors. So, leaving the jar on the kitchen counter, you walk up to the entrance door and push the button.

“It’s me.” Ari is standing on the other side, as you can see through the peephole “Can you open up?”

Your heart doesn’t really have the energy to talk to her, but your brain doesn’t have the energy to even make up an excuse.

You push the entrance button. “Yeah, come in.”

The minutes it takes to enter the doorway and walk up to your landing take forever. Pressing, your heart has begun to beat, heavy, in your chest, and after a while, you regret not having hung up instantly.

“Hey, nice to see you,” Ari says when she shows up at the door.

“What do you want?” You don’t want to be rude, not on purpose, but you really want to know that. “Sorry, uh… How can I, hm, help you?”

Suddenly, Ari stifles a chuckle, and although against your will – you want to be composed and cold – you follow her, feeling incredibly awkward; a friendship like yours wasn’t made to be solemn. You’ve never been silent with each other. Angry, perhaps, or upset – but never silent.

“Sit anywhere you like,” you tell her then, stepping back to let her in.

“Thanks.”

“Do you want a drink?” you ask on your way to the kitchen.

“No, thanks!” Ari exclaims from the living room, and you peek over the counter; she’s holding up two Frappuccinos. “I brought you something, though.”

You shake your head and come back. “You didn’t have to— okay, thanks. It’s my favourite, how did you know?” you joke, and surprisingly, Ari laughs. Maybe this won’t be as awkward, and maybe it’s time to cut straight to the point. “Thanks. So… I guess you came to talk, right? What do you want to talk about?”

Ari takes a deep breath.

“I know you and Jimin talked the other day,” she says, “he told me. He also told me what actually happened…” You stare at her, expectantly. “I came to apologise. What we did was awful, even if we didn’t do it with bad intentions. The… fact that the possibility didn’t even cross my mind was very uncaring, and I think it’s a reflection of how little I’ve tried to understand your feelings,” she continues, and you stay quiet, feeling heavier and heavier. “But it terrified me, to think that you would be unhappy forever.” It’s only when her voice cracks that you let out a heavy puff of breath. “I thought that I wasn’t doing enough. Like I wasn’t caring about it enough.”

You take a few seconds to think about what to say, about what you want to say; the fact that she has finally acknowledged your feelings immediately takes a heavy weight off your chest.

But you also feel so frustrated that it took so long. You’re so frustrated that you had to literally shut down for someone to even suspect that there was something wrong with you. And you’re frustrated that you really didn’t have much idea that you felt like this until now. How hurt you are, how sad, how you long for closeness and intimacy. How you miss being vulnerable, and how much it terrifies you at the same time.

“There was never anything wrong with you,” you say. “You… were there, believe it or not. I always felt you with me, I was the one pushing you all away.” With a soft smile, she makes an attempt to stroke your cheek, and you tilt down your head. “I just… hate being so weak and having no control over it,” you continue.

“What are you even talking about?” Ari asks with a frown, still stroking your cheek. “You’re the strongest person I know.”

You roll your eyes. “Stop joking—”

“It’s true. I admire you, Y/N.”

Your heart aches and cries and sobs and shrinks in your chest out of pure excitement. You feel loved, she makes you feel loved.

“I…” And then your voice cracks, and you start crying. “I just…! Fuck, I wish I could’ve been able to handle it all. All the pain, and the heartbreak, and— I wish nothing of this had affected me this much! I’m tired, I’m literally so tired!”

“Why should you have been able to? What gave you that experience – age, hard work, life, your youth?”

“I don’t know.”

Ari scoots closer to you and hugs you, resting her cheek on your shoulder. She’s looking away, her eyes fixed on some spot in the living room; her face is blank, but you feel she’s serious.

“I’m sorry about the bet. I didn’t know any better,” she murmurs. “I’ve learned from it, though, and I’ve also learned that I have to give you space. Be there for you, if you want me back. Give away my shoulder to your tears even if it falls off. I don’t know more about life than you do— but I want to learn with you.”

You find comfort in her arms, it’s a kind of closeness you have missed madly. It’s been a long time since you last felt loved by her; seen, known, acknowledged. While she walked away after half-finding out about the bet, you pushed her even further too.

“What are you going to do about Jungkook?” she asks again.

“He still doesn’t know it was all in his head,” you say, “if Jimin hasn’t told him, that is.” Ari shakes her head. “So… I guess I’ll wait to see if he comes back asking for my forgiveness.”

“What he did was unfair, but don’t you think he deserves some sympathy too?”

You shake your head as well. “Why should I be the bigger person? Am I not allowed to be hurt? When I was a cheating bitch, oh, then everyone would judge me— but know he deserves my sympathy?”

Ari shrugs. “Not forcing you, it’s up to you whether you do it or not.”

“Even giving me the choice feels unfair.”

Then she looks up at you; her eyes watch you carefully at first, as if she was eyeing an animal, but then they soften, and a smile creeps to her lips.

“Treat him as kindly as you wanted to be treated yourself. That is your only free choice in this world.”

But your pride won’t let you. You’ve been hurt and beaten and humiliated so many times, and you were so little used to it, that your pride is swollen and wounded. It hurts just to think about giving it up and forgiving him; the mourning part of you wants him to suffer as much as he made you suffer. But then— then you think of the way he cried when he thought you had left him, and you remember that he only acts like a jerk when he feels the threat of heartbreak, and you think about how scared he must have been back then.

Then you think of all the times you have cried yourself, wondering why everyone is so cold and unfeeling with each other. Trying to mimic them. All those times you hated yourself for not being strong, that relentless you who never did anything stupid, who never hurt anyone out of fear. You were never that person.

Neither is Jungkook.

Some part of you wants him to suffer, yes. It’s the same voice that whispers that you deserve it too; all the pain and despair and loneliness in the world for not knowing any better. You’re just like him, you realise.

Does he technically deserve it? Well, no. But again, it’s true that kindness is not something to be deserving of, to earn; it’s blind. Love, too, is blind. You can’t see shit right now.

“I just need some time,” you murmur.

“Well, if it helps, I think everyone is doomed to make mistakes,” Ari says again as she gets up. “It’s hard to be perfect when you’ve got feelings.”

“Where are you going?”

“Uh, I’d better go home and get ready for the party,” she says with a grimace.

You frown. “What party—? Oh, the graduation party?”

“Yeah… It starts in an hour, and I promised Jimin I would be on time to help him choose the tie.”

“I totally forgot,” you murmur, looking away. “It’s prom-themed, isn’t it? I think Seokjin told me… Do you think Professor Choi will mind if I don’t come? I’m not feeling like going to any parties right now.”

“He won’t,” Ari replies.

You nod, and she gets her purse.

“I’ll be on my way now.” She kisses your forehead and runs back to the door. “Hit me up if you end up coming!”

“Sure.”

And now, with the door slamming shut behind her, Ari’s gone. Suddenly you’re back to being alone in your empty flat, sulking and pondering. You’re such a mess, you have no idea what to think or feel – or rather, you can’t make up your mind between being mad and relieved that it was all a misunderstanding.

What are you supposed to do with the pain, then? Gulp it down and swallow it? Pretend that it never happened, that you never suffered? But, you know, pretending has become too hard lately.

Somehow, you wander around the house and end up in your bedroom.

Jungkook must have come to take the rest of his stuff since most of his things are missing; even his platform boots, which he’d keep under your bed due to their side – and because you’d trip over them all the time – are not there anymore. His skin care products have disappeared from the bathroom, and the flat no longer smells of his body lotion. It’s as if his presence had said goodbye and closed the door behind it.

There are not too many options here, though: you can either forgive him or not. You can either take him back and punish him for it or not.

Jungkook hurt you, that is true. You were in pain because of his actions. But something inside you can’t help connecting with his pain, too; you know that feeling far too well – of not being enough, of thinking yourself to be deserving of being treated badly, of having earned the pain.

So, even now, when you’re trying to picture all the reasons why you’re angry at him, you can’t help but fish for excuses. You feel stupid, and you know yourself to be in love. Not the first fool on this planet to be either.

But, at this point, perhaps you’ve become too familiar with the pain, and especially, with the possibility of it. You’re no longer afraid of being hurt. It could be because you’re numb, but also because Ari is right: you’re stronger than what you give yourself credit for. Maybe this is the worst decision of your life, or maybe not. You’ll see— for now, you want to see Jungkook.

You get up from your bed, where you had been sitting during your reflection. Your wardrobe is right in front of you. You open it and browse through what you might wear to the party you’ve supposedly helped plan.

Actually, there isn’t anything you could possibly wear to a ‘prom’ except for a minidress and a pair of heels, and that isn’t exactly prom-like.

Then you remember when you and Jungkook looked at your high school pictures, back when you were crowned prom queen. You were wearing a long pearl-white satin dress that is probably rotting in a thrift shop box somewhere, and you had borrowed a pair of heeled sandals from your mother which you ended up breaking. She was furious.

You might not have that dress with you anymore, but it’s not like you’d ever wear that again.

God, it was ugly.

So, you grab whatever feels comfortable. You’re gonna be looking hot anyways, and it’s supposed to be for the seniors. Then you text Ari asking her to pick you up, and by the time she gets here, you’re ready.

“I was honestly so sure you wouldn’t come,” she says, getting back into the car as you take a seat next to her. “What changed your mind?”

You keep your eyes straight forward. “I don’t know… I guess this whole thing started to feel a bit silly.”

“You better vote Namjoon for prom king.”

“I didn’t know we were doing that,” you reply with a chuckle, and Ari rolls her eyes. “The greatest party planner in the world, that’s what I am. Just so you know, Seokjin was supposed to keep me posted, and he didn’t.”

“Poor you.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, Y/N, you look nice—”

You let out the most screeching, freaked-out, and high-pitched scream when Jimin, dressed in a burgundy suit, sits up in the back seat and suddenly enters your field of vision as the coat covering him slides down his body. Truly, it leaves you on the verge of a heart attack, and you turn towards him intending to glare at him to death.

“Jesus Christ,” you cry out. “Were you there all along?”

“Yeah… I didn’t sleep very well yesterday, so I was taking a nap in the car to get me through the evening.”

You roll your eyes. “Cool.”

Jimin scoots closer to the back of your seat and hugs it. He’s wearing an aquamarine blue tie and looks as handsome as ever. He must be up to something.

“So,” he begins, and you stifle a sigh, “can we talk about Jungkook already? Or is he still taboo?”

“Yes, we can and must talk about Jungkook,” Ari says.

“Is he coming?” She nods. “Good—”

“Yes! That’s my girl!” she shouts out then, raising her free arm in celebration. “Ugh, I can’t believe this is all coming to an end! Finally—!” You stare at her, and it makes her quiet down her enthusiasm. “Finally, the consequences of our own actions…”

Jimin snickers and shrugs. “But you have to thank us; technically, you wouldn’t have found the love of your life if we hadn’t forced him into your flat.” He’s so shameless that you can only laugh at his words, though. “What? Don’t laugh! It’s true! Our brilliant plan worked! You can’t deny it!”

“Yeah, it did, it did…”

“And Tae’s idea to pretend you overheard us? Chef’s kiss,” he says then, and you glance at him.

“Don’t brag now that she has forgiven us, idiot,” Ari groans.

“Yeah, idiot.”

It doesn’t take the three of you long to reach the sports hall, where the graduation party is being held. You see a couple of students handing out ballots to everyone who enters the building, and a handful of professors, decked out to the gills, are keeping a wary eye on the area. Ari is lucky to spot an empty parking space, so she pulls in and parks the car there.

“Okay, are you ready?” Jimin helps her step out of the car, and then he rushes to help you too. “Really, you two look really pretty.”

You look down at your outfit.

“Thanks, I wasn’t sure I’d be decent looking for tonight…”

“Nonsense, you look great,” Ari says, taking your arm and walking you to the entrance. “Stunning, beautiful, breathtaking, lovely. Drop-dead gorgeous.”

You let out a chuckle. “Jeez, a ‘you look fine’ would’ve been enough, but thank you.”

“Fine? That wouldn’t have done you justice.”

You're fidgety as you walk into the pavilion; the halls and rooms are considerably darker now, colourful lamps lighted up and hanging from the ceiling. Some glitter balls blind everyone they catch with their glare, shoving their rainbow beams in their faces.

Your body gets used to the music quickly, and suddenly you find yourself doing a little dance as you survey the spacious room.

“Do you want us to leave?”

“Yeah, you can go dancing, don’t worry about me,” you reply with a smile over the music.

Ari smiles and nods, and a second later she’s dragging a happy Jimin across the dancefloor. You, for your part, continue to weave through the tide of people bordering around the floor. Your eyes search and search, hoping to find your target, but apart from a few familiar faces from class and people you remember passing in the corridors, there is no sign of Jeon Jungkook.

Maybe he’s left already. After all, the party has been going on for a while now since your friends like to be ‘fashionably late’. So, he could be back in his room right now, or even out of town for an early weekend.

Now that you think about it, this is the last place where you’d think you’d find him.

All these bodies crammed together, this music so loud you can barely make it out from their voices, all these sweaty, half-drunk people who keep waving at you and offering you a drink. This is really the last place in the world that heartbroken Jungkook would want to be.

But he came, that much you know. Jungkook was here at some point.

And you can imagine where he is now.

You rush to put your ballot with Namjoon’s name on it into the box and look for a way out. You have to squeeze yourself past some people, but you manage to get out – and get some fresh air.

“No way I would’ve survived in there for four hours.”

In less than a couple of minutes, you cross the lawn and enter the other building. You walk past the outdoor swimming pool, which is covered by a blue tarpaulin so that no idiots can jump in. Although, of course, there will be.

The lights at the entrance of the natatorium are all off. You can barely make out the lockers or the floor thanks to the little sunlight that filters through the small windows at the top. And there’s an acrid, harsh smell that kind of throws you off. But whatever, you know the place like the back of your hand, and by straining your eyes, you make your way through the corridors to the stairs.

The natatorium is completely silent by the time you arrive. The water ripples calmly, and the amber evening light floods the four walls from the huge glass panels both above and to the sides.

You make your way to the bleachers and go down the steps.

At first, you see only a tangle of metal poles, an endless vision of silver lines crisscrossing each other. For a second, it crosses your mind that perhaps you don’t know him as well as you thought you did. But then you notice a black figure in the background, hidden and crouched, and you walk up to it out of instinct.

“Jungkook?”

The boy stands up out of surprise, hitting himself on the head with one of the bars above him. Before he can even say hi, Jungkook crouches down, whining in pain.

“Oh, dear!” You rush to his side, worried, although smiling. “Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

He nods slowly. “Huh, it doesn’t hurt much… How did you know I’d be here?” he asks, finally looking up at you.

You shrug.

“Call it a hunch. It really doesn’t hurt?”

“Yeah, I’m good, really,” Jungkook murmurs then, and a soft blush appears on his cheeks. He can’t help smiling at your worried tone. He was deprived of it for too long.

You sit next to him on the floor instead. Jungkook seems to shrink at your closeness and expand towards you at the same time. Like a reactive mass, unable to ignore you – both terrified of your presence and doomed to crave it like an idiot. So, you sit down with him, and he stays still.

There are so many things crossing his mind right now; why are you here, why did you come? To tell him that he’s an asshole and an idiot and you don’t want to be with him anymore? This silence is wiping his last bits of hope out, it’s annihilating his patience and his mental stability. Can you please say something already? Jesus! Did you come here only to torture him with your silence—?

“I know all about it,” you whisper. “Baby, I know. Don’t worry.”

He feels cold all over out of a sudden.

“What?”

“How could you think I’d ever do such a thing?” you ask then, taking his face in your hands so that he’ll look at you.

Your stomach twists with anticipation, and you are short of breath. There are too many emotions mixed up inside you, and you don’t know exactly how to manage them, but right now, your top priority is Jungkook.

That’s the one thing you’re sure of; to show him that you’re still here and that it’s not the end of the world.

Jungkook’s breath hatches. “You were so upset after what happened… And because— it made sense. It made sense that you’d dump me.”

“No, it did not.”

You pull him into a hug, the tightest hug you think you remember ever giving. You hunger for his warmth, which seeps through the fabric of your clothes and into your body. He still smells soft and mellow. You tighten your arms around him, and he does the same, and suddenly you’re out of breath but so, so happy that you feel you’re about to cry.

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” you hear him murmur against your cheek.

Jungkook’s voice is low with shame. You only chuckle, pressing harder against him as your hands dance up and down his back at a soothing pace.

“It’s okay,” you reply, “I forgive you.”

Maybe you could’ve just shrugged it off, maybe that would have made him feel better. Maybe you could have responded with a sorry of your own, an apology for not coming up to him earlier, but you don’t think that’s what he needs to hear. It certainly is not what you want to say.

Jungkook lets out a soft sob and whimpers, “I was such a jerk, I— I even tried to—” Tears follow a second later, cutting him off. “Shit, I’m so sorry…”

“I know.”

“It was so childish of me—! I should’ve talked to you first, I’m so sorry I was such a jerk,” he insists.

“Yes, you should have.”

Suddenly Jungkook goes silent, his doe eyes fixed on yours in an attempt to look through you; won’t you tell him off? Won’t you scream at him, tell him to fuck off? He fucked up badly this time; he has totally ruined any kind of trust you had in him before.

“Why—? Please,” he pleads out of the blue, tears running down his cheeks, “hate me, yell at me, do something!” His heart is aching at the mere possibility of you breaking up with him. What else could your tender, understanding words mean? Only that you will spare him without much cruelty. “D-don’t just— don’t just keep talking nonsense! I was an asshole! Just t-tell me if you want me back!”

You smile softly and cup his cheeks. “Never said I didn’t.”

“Fuck—”

So, he almost had sex with another girl, and this is your reaction? Gentle smiles and tender caresses and loving looks? Do you really care so little about him?

“Yes, you made a mistake, one that hurt me,” you whisper then, “but that doesn’t mean you deserve to be hated or yelled at. And I never stopped wanting you.” It hurts to say those words, but you know it’s for the best – you know it’s your brain screaming in fear. “I love you, Jungkook. None of your mistakes will change the way I feel about you.”

You’ve never seen such a shocked, tender, endearing look before; the way his eyes widen in surprise as your words sink in, the way his bottom lips tremble, or how his body instinctively budges forward chasing yours.

“But I hurt you—”

“Yes” – your hands find his wet cheeks again – “and I forgive you.”

Your heart still aches, waiting to hear him say those words back, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen. So, you accept the situation and pull your hand away, but Jungkook takes it between his fingers just to stare at you. There’s this look of tenacity in them—

“Are you done, noona?”

It’s started to rain. The gentle drops falling on you become stronger and stronger, seeping through your clothes. You haven’t brought a jacket, and the dress you’re wearing doesn’t exactly do a very good job of keeping you warm. A shiver runs down your spine. It’s a pity that summer is coming to an end.

“What—?”

“Are you done with all this bullshit?” he cuts you off.

The harshness makes you halt. Any intention of being sweet and understanding vanishes, and you’re left frozen in his arms. You frown, but that’s about it; Jungkook remains silent with a stern look, one of steady passion, at your quietness. He’s adamant about tearing the pain off you.

Maybe it’s the silence, you think again. Maybe that’s why your mind keeps processing thoughts, overwhelmed by the nothingness, unrelentingly trying to find some meaning to his words – since he won’t explain himself.

A puff of air comes out through your lips, followed by a whimper, and you burst out in tears.

“Don’t—” Your breath hitches amidst sobs, and you hit his chest with clenched fists but no strength at all. “Don’t ever do this to me again, okay?” Jungkook smiles as he holds you, ignoring how your tears smear down his wet cheeks. “You were so fucking unfair! It hurt so fucking much—!”

He waits until you calm down to stroke your face with a soft gaze. “Y/N?” You look at him. “I love you too.”

Your heart aches with emotion.

“You better do.”

“I love you,” Jungkook repeats, raising his voice as it echoes through the rooftop, and kisses you on the lips, holding you tight and close, “I love you! I love you, noona! And I want everyone to know!”

“You’re such an idiot,” you let out with a soft laugh.

“Oh my god—!” His sudden exclamation makes you jump, and he sits up as he takes off his suit jacket. “Put this on, noona, or you’ll get sick. I can’t believe I didn’t notice! You must be freezing.”

You shrug. “We’re both drenched, Jungkook. I think we should get going.”

“Yeah, let’s go to my room.” Jungkook gets up first and holds out his hand to help you up. “I can lend you some dry clothes there so, you’ll be comfier.”

“Thanks— wait,” you let out and grab his hand, making Jungkook stop in his tracks. “Aren’t we, uh, indoors? How come it’s raining—? Oh, it’s the fire alarm, it’s gone off,” you realise, looking at him with an amused smile. “I swear, for a moment I thought it was raining. It suited the moment so well that I didn’t even stop to think about it.”

“Yeah, you’re so silly, noona,” he giggles.

You hug his waist and let him walk you up the steps. “Don’t lie, you didn’t notice either.”

“But it makes for a pretty picture,” Jungkook jokes. “A love confession in the rain. Wherever the rain comes from, well, let’s just take it as it is.”

An angry exclamation echoes from the other side of the natatorium; the janitor is dragging some students out of the changing rooms, and one of them throws a cigarette on the floor. That must have been what you smelled on the way up. With his third ninja eye, the old man suddenly turns to where you’re hiding, but Jungkook is quick and ducks.

“Anyone still there?” he yells. “C’mon, everyone back to the party! I don’t wanna see anybody here!”

You wait until the old man is done sending off the kids to come out of your hideout.

There is no one left in the pavilion by the time you leave; the janitor has gone to his sentry box and the students, probably scared off by him, must have returned to the main building to re-join the party.

Jungkook’s hand is tightly wrapped around yours as you walk out. Unseen by either your friends or other students, you head to the dorms in comfortable silence, cringing at the feeling of damp fabric sticking to your skin. You want to tear it off immediately, but you have to wait until you get to his room.

Once you arrive, he opens the door and steps back to let you in first.

“Make yourself at home.”

With growing curiosity, you enter his room and take a look around; you can recognise most of his figurines and posters, and his swimming cap hanging from the wardrobe door.

“I didn’t know you had a roommate,” you say, turning back to him. “Is he a freshman too?”

Jungkook looks away. “Not exactly…” At his vague response, you frown, increasingly confused. “Let’s not worry about it now, noona— you’ll see him at some point. Want a drink or something? I have juice and milkshakes—”

“I’ll settle for some dry clothes for now.”

Jungkook sticks his head out of the mini fridge. “Oh—! Shit, I forgot, yeah…”

You chuckle softly as he stands up and rushes to his drawers, looking perhaps for a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie to lend you. When he finally finds something that fits you, he gives it to you and takes out something to change into. Jungkook is still squatting on the floor, so he looks up at you when you take off your top.

You didn’t put on a bra, and your clothes were cold on your skin, so he gets greeted by the view of your hardened nipples instead.

He must have been staring since he hears you chuckle.

“You make all this fuss and still think you’re gonna hit it tonight?” you joke, tragically getting turned on.

But his face turns an adorable shade of deep red, and Jungkook looks away, either embarrassed or ashamed of his own intentions. His eyes are now fixed on the basic tee in his hands, and he puts it aside to unbutton the dress shirt he was wearing and practically peel it off his skin.

His back muscles bulge and flex under the skin-tight fabric as it struggles to slide down his back. Some of his tattoos peak from under the shirt, and Jungkook uncovers them when he takes it off, neatly folding it before realising that it’s actually going directly into the laundry basket along with your clothes. As for you, your eyes are still glued to him.

Seems like you’re no better than a man.

Jungkook is about to take off his pants when you approach him. Surprised, his body instinctively turns in your direction, hungry for your closeness.

“Let me help you with that,” you practically purr.

Although still shy, he smiles and looks at you. “Don’t you think that’s mean? There’s no need to tease me either.”

Jungkook lets you get your way despite his words; the belt buckle expertly undoes itself in your hands, and you slide the leather through the loops until it’s completely tangled in your hands. A couple of ideas visibly flash through Jungkook’s eyes, but for the time being, he is silent as his bare chest rises and falls. His breath feels hot against your face, he feels hot against your body.

You knew you had missed him like crazy all these weeks, but now you realise that you were sick with want. How you’ve longed to just have him with you again. It hurt so much to be apart.

And, surprisingly, you don’t resent him.

You thought you would, honestly; you thought you’d struggle to forgive him for making his troubles and fears yours. For dragging you down his path of self-inflicted pain. Just like it took you years to forgive Seokjin or your friends.

But, instead, you’re faced with a warm feeling of sympathy – of love. Jungkook whipped himself way more than he should have, imagined you would never take him back after fucking it up so much. You don’t want him to do that, you want him to learn and be nice to himself. For the first time in, perhaps, forever, the thought of loving someone doesn’t feel like a one-way ticket to getting hurt and betrayed but rather like a chance of being loved back.

Jungkook grows fidgety under your silent gaze, melting into a heart-shaped puddle at how lovingly you’re eyeing him. He’s restless with how much he wants to show you how much he actually loves you, and he knows you well enough to know that you’ve got something in mind regarding that.

And your instinct is to kiss each other.

Sliding your hand under his head to grab his nape and push him against your lips, you run your tongue against the corner of his mouth first. A heavy puff of air leaves him, and you take the chance to move away just a little.

His chocolate eyes lock with yours as you try to calm down. Your lips are barely touching each other, and his bated breaths fan against you.

“I adore you,” you whisper.

He feels dizzy. Jungkook shivers in your arms. “Noona—”

“Jungkook, I need you.”

“F-fuck—”

With his entire body trembling with anticipation, he sits you on the bed and hovers over you, his eyes heart-shaped as he melts into you. Those words have a grip on him, the mere sound of your voice saying them was so sweet that his heart is beating like crazy now and his brain is scrambled with affection and longing.

“Oh, bunny,” you coo, and Jungkook keeps leaving a trail of kisses down your neck, “did that get you excited?”

As an answer, he just shoves his hips against yours. His half-hard cock is clearly noticeable under his pants as he humps your clothed thigh, whimpers spilling from his mouth.

You roll your tongue over his with your hands splaying across his back in an attempt to pull him closer. Like a beast being fed, your body is relentlessly oozing hormones, drawing you to each other, quenching your need for each other’s warmth, and soothing an ache after being apart.

Jungkook lets out a puff of air against your neck. “S-shit, I’m so hard—”

“Don’t worry, baby,” you whisper as you kiss from his lips down to his chest. “Let mommy take care of you, okay?”

You notice him going tense on top of you, even if his head remains hidden in the crook of your neck. His cock twitches, too, under the fabric of his pants. The way his hands move quickly to the zip to lower it is a sign that he is not displeased; on the contrary, when Jungkook takes off his pants, shimmying between your legs, his cock is pretty red and wet with precum.

“Missed this too,” you groan between kisses as your hand wraps around his length. It’s hot, and Jungkook whimpers, sinking onto you. “Huh? Hard and ready for mommy.”

He looks up at you with his lips pressed to your neck. “F-fuck, mommy—”

You take off your skirt while he finishes pulling down his trousers, and you both get rid of what’s left of your clothes.

Your hand returns to his cock, and you start pumping him, smearing the precum with your thumb. Jungkook’s hitched breath fans against your chest, leaving a trail of kisses on the valley of your breasts – his cheeks are stained with the red shape of your lips.

“Shit, so good—” he moans. His hips stutter and buck into your hand; there’s a constant wave of pleasure going down his spine. It expands from his toes up to his fingertips, and the more you touch him, the wetter his cock gets. “Oh, God, yes! Fuck, mommy, I— I missed you too, missed you so much—!”

A moan of pure want escapes your lips. “Yeah?”

“Yes, yes—”

You cut him off with another kiss, rolling your tongues over each other and hooking your legs around his waist. With another groan, you suck his bottom lip into your mouth, and Jungkook moans.

“Bunny, I’m so wet,” you whisper to his ear as your hand picks up a faster pace.

Probably, Jungkook can even hear your heart beating loudly in your chest. The ache between your thighs only grows tighter, making your cunt drip and smear your arousal against his balls as he bucks his hips onto his stomach.

He suddenly whimpers. “I’m c-close.”

It’s easy to tell, judging by the sweat covering his skin and his dilated pupils. You love the way the engorged tip of his cock peeks from between your fingers.

“Mommy, m-mommy—” Jungkook chants then, fucking your hand. When he reaches the tipping point, you let out a wicked giggle and move away your hand, ruining his climax. “No! Please, please, p-please! Please, b-bunny cum, bunny— p-please!” he cries out as his body writhes on top of you in pure frustration.

You peck him on the lips. “You had this one coming, babe.”

Jungkook tries to calm down as he writhes over you, so you start running your hands up and down his back, stroking him with a gentle smile. His face is alight with a lovely blush, eyes glassy and locked with yours.

Hot and heavy against your palm, his cock gets even harder, desperate for the friction of your ministrations to return.

You let out a soft chuckle. “What are you doing—?”

He has begun to leave a trail of kisses down to your chest, where he finally rests his head. As his lips reach one of your nipples, Jungkook shuts his eyes and holds your breast, his breath fanning harshly through his nose. It’s physically impossible, but you shift on the mattress to fix your posture until your core is right beneath his cock.

That’s all the encouragement he needs before sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. The contact sends shivers down your spine, you’re getting impatient.

Greedily, Jungkook moves to your other tit without daring to neglect the other and flicks your sensitive nub between his fingers, kneading the tender flesh. You let out a low groan, and your hand slaps his butt out of instinct.

“God,” he gasps, completely out of breath, “I fucking love your tits.”

“Baby likes mommy’s tits, understandably.”

“Shit,” Jungkook moans again as his hips start rutting against your dripping folds, “y-yeah, baby likes mommy’s tits, mommy’s— mommy’s cunt, mommy’s e-everything.”

You look down at him and spank him again. “Getting worked up, aren’t we?”

He then sucks on your nipple.

“Been worked up since you took your top off.”

For some reason, you’re really liking this sudden outburst of confidence in him. It’s like you’re no longer ashamed of doing things to him, of wanting to do things to him; that shameless sparkle in his eyes, one of total, blatant desperation, as if he’d let you do anything as long as you let him touch and enjoy you. Like he’s truly enjoying himself this time without getting anxious about his performance.

“Thought so,” you groan. You can feel his teeth sinking into the side of your boob. “I’m worked up too, bunny, eat me out—”

“Fuck yes.”

In a second, he’s kneeling on the mattress between your spread legs, staring at your folds as if he’s never seen one before. His pupils are dilated, a certain sense of desperation taking over him; he needs to have your cunt against his tongue right now.

Peppering featherlight kisses along your inner thighs, Jungkook makes eye contact with you just to see how you begin to lose composure, pushing his head. He lets out an amused ‘sorry’ and sticks out his tongue, parting your folds and delving his tongue into your entrance. Your taste is as good as he remembers, your arousal taking over his poor scrambled brain. Your skin is so warm, too, thighs tightening around his head when he starts flicking his tongue on your clit.

“Fuck, bunny—” you groan and throw your head back on the pillow.

With your juices smeared all over his face and saliva running down his chin, Jungkook is desperate about making you come – there’s nothing else on his mind right now.

He grips your ass to shove his face on your cunt and starts fucking you with his tongue. His nose rubs against your sensitive nub, and you can’t help but grab his hair and pull with a loud moan escaping your lips.

“Shit, shit— baby, don’t stop, d-don’t,” you manage to tell him, “Mommy’s gonna cum—”

Tongue lapping your pussy like crazy, Jungkook does as told and doesn’t stop sucking on your clit. His eyes have lost focus.

“F-fuck, good boy—”

“Good boy,” he repeats without thinking.

You spread your legs even more and push your knees against your chest, hoping to reduce any distance between your body and his to zero. Jungkook gets it immediately and grabs your hips. Now he’s lifting you and drawing his lips down to your entrance more easily just to give your pussy broad strokes with his tongue flat.

“Mommy,” he suddenly whines, “I— you’re s-so wet, shit, so, so—”

“So what, bunny?” you manage to ask.

“Fuck, I could slide right in,” Jungkook says as he kisses your clit, “so wet and hot, could slide my cock right in—”

You resist the urge to moan. “Y-yeah? Think you could fuck me with your dumb cock?”

“Fuck, yes—”

“You’d spill your pretty cum all over me in a second, bunny,” you say with feigned pity, feeling breathless and euphoric as your climax starts to build in the pit of your stomach. “Your dumb bunny cock couldn’t hold it— y-you’d fill me up in no time!”

Your back arches when the ache between your legs becomes unbearable. Jungkook isn’t even bothering to wipe your juices off his eyelashes; rather go blind than miss a second of devouring your pussy. He lets you rest a bit when he goes back to fucking you with his tongue, but as soon as you’re not oversensitive, he returns to your clit with puckered lips.

“You’re going to make me cum, Jungkook—”

He just moans at your words. “Please, please, wanna have mommy coming all— all over my face!”

“So greedy,” you mock him.

That’s when you stop talking and melt into the coiling tension in the pit of your stomach; with a moan, you feel it engorge, expand across your body, and grip your very core as you come. He goes on a frenzy, slurping your arousal to help you ride out your climax.

“Fuck, baby,” you let out, “you’re— you’re such a good boy.”

Jungkook climbs up to you and smashes his lips against yours, moving away barely a few inches before he says, “Your good boy, a-always.”

With a soft, tired smile, you rake your nails through his hair.

“Mine...”

The both of you use the next second to catch your breath. It’s crazy how much you’ve missed feeling his body and his warmth, having him lie down next to you, just the chance to spoil him rotten with kisses all over his cheeks and lips. After such an intense moment, it’s nice to allow yourself to take a break to pamper each other.

“How are you doing, bunny? Hm? All good?”

“Well...” Jungkook looks away from you, and you raise an eyebrow. “I really, really wanna come, mommy—”

“Sit up,” you say, doing the same.

He sits up on his knees and waits patiently, almost like an obedient puppy, for your next order. You can see the way his pierced cock springs up against his tummy, swollen, red, and dripping precum.

You grip his hips and beckon him to lie down on his back.

“You had your bit of fun, baby. Time for mommy to take charge. Arms up and stay still.”

Doing as told, Jungkook raises his arms with expectation. You leave kisses on his cheeks, neck, and chest, licking over his nipples and quivering under your touch. Feeling a little playful, you nibble on his ribcage and continue down his happy trail until you reach his crotch. He’s leaking already but, making eye contact, you let a trickle of saliva drip on his engorged tip. Not content, however, you get more comfortable over him and spit directly on his cock.

“That’s all you get, bunny,” you groan, voice low with arousal.

Jungkook’s pupils shiver, and his mouth is parted, unable to close it. The mere thought of you spitting anywhere on him is far more exciting than he first thought.

“Quiet now?” With your thumb pressing on the barbell, you let out a quiet chuckle. “Thought you’d be babbling and whining like a bitch.”

It finally snaps him out. “Please— please, I wanna come—”

“Shut up.”

And you finally swallow around his length. Your press your head down as you feel his cock slide into your parted lips, and Jungkook sobs, overwhelmed by the feeling of your wet heat around him. His hips jerk and buck into your mouth, but you’re quick to pin them down on the bed with a glare.

“S-sorry, mommy, ugh!” Jungkook grips the sheets around his head for balance. “Oh fuck, o-oh, shit!”

Heat pools in his lower back, too much tension pent up after suffering from your teasing and ministrations. Nobody touches him the way you do, nobody turns him on the way you do, nobody makes his heart flutter the way you do.

An entire iceberg could melt against his burning cheeks. Using hands and lips together, you play gently with his balls while dipping your tongue into his slit and flickering your tongue on the barbell.

With hollowed cheeks, you bob your head up and down Jungkook’s cock, never looking away. You couldn’t miss the tears flowing down his cheeks or the way his heart-shaped pupils stare at you with the utmost adoration. He’s trying to hold back his moans when you swirl your tongue and engulf him again, but it’s to no avail because his shaky breaths slip out anyway. He’s a trembling prey under your control, waiting to be devoured.

You slide his cock out of your mouth for a second. Your lips look red and swollen, and Jungkook pictures how you looked with his cum all over them.

When you notice he’s close to cumming again, you give his tip one last lick and a peck. He whines and begs you not to stop, but you sit on his lap without taking notice of any of his words.

“Tongue.”

It takes him a few seconds, but Jungkook obeys and sticks his tongue out, unsure but totally in.

Grabbing his chin, you smirk and force him to look up at you before you spit directly in his mouth. He doesn’t have much time to process it before you’re kissing him hard, hands tangling around his neck, but you can feel his cock twitching against your inner thigh.

As the kiss grows in passion, Jungkook melts into you, no longer aware of any part of the universe that is not you or him. You suck on his tongue while getting comfortable on his lap, and your hand wraps around his length again, resuming its movements as it pumps it up and down without mercy.

“Jungkook I wanna ride your cock,” you let out in a deep breath between kisses.

He fixes your seat on top of him when something pops up in his head:

“I-I don’t— I don’t have any condoms.”

You kiss him again with your hand on his nape. “Don’t care, I’m on the pill, and I’m clean. What do you think?”

“But mommy, I’m not gonna last then,” he cries out.

“I don’t fucking care.”

You place your hands on his chest and straddle his hips. This way, his hard cock aligns with your entrance, and all you have to do is sink down onto him.

“Oh, fuck, bunny—”

His cock stretches you out with only a slight hint of pain, the good kind, as it works you open as you adjust to his size. Jungkook squints his eyes when he sees his length disappear into your body, and the contact is so raw and wet and hot and fuck, you’re dripping, you’re actually leaking arousal down your thighs, and now he’s swallowed by your warmth. He’s never going to get over this, he thinks as you bend down to leave a trail of kisses down his neck.

“I’m— I’m going mad,” he whispers. “M-mommy’s cunt feels so fucking good, wanna fill you up— until you’re leaking— ugh!”

You’ve started rolling your hips, bouncing up and down his cock. His eyes are glued to your folds, it’s really incredible the way you’re taking him. His tip bumps into your sweet spot incessantly, sounds of smacking flesh flooding the otherwise quiet room.

Jungkook tries to pound back up into you, let his balls swing against your ass as he fucks you.

“Fuck, bunny, I love your cock, it was made for me,” you moan. The pace that your hips pick up becomes brutal almost. “My bunny, my baby— mine alone, no one else’s, r-right? Say it—”

“Yours,” he struggles to say.

You kiss him again, harshly this time. “Mine… Mine to touch, to kiss, to fuck—” you grunt; your skin heats up as your climax builds in, and Jungkook can only try to survive his approaching orgasm. “Mommy’s only, t-this cock is mommy’s only. Only— only you can fuck mommy.”

He throbs inside of you instantly, his face contorted in pure pleasure as you keep bouncing on his cock.

It slides into your dripping cunt so easily, of course, you waited a long time for this; your swollen clit rubs against his pubic bone, throwing you closer to the edge.

“Slow, please,” Jungkook cries out, “slow down. Fuck, mommy, I’m— coming, Y/N, shit, shit—!”

But his sudden panic is nothing but amusing to you, who takes this chance to start riding him faster and flick his nipples between your fingertips. Jungkook lets out a shaky breath and begs you to slow down even only a bit, begs you to let him last longer, but then his breath hitches and he is no longer able to plead for mercy.

His cock twitches again, and this time his hips can’t follow its rhythm, stuttering and bucking without any control. His breathy moans turn into whines, and with one last powerful thrust down onto his length, Jungkook’s eyes roll back, and he goes still.

Jungkook smacks his hands around your hips and fucks into you, bouncing you up and down his cock.

“F-fucking Christ! Mommy! Oh fuck!”

You feel him emptying himself inside of you, and shit, it’s way better than you imagined – his cum fills you up to the brim, warm and lovely, and leaks down your inner thighs as soon as he’s done spilling his load.

But your hips never stop rolling down onto him, clit rubbing against his pubic bone in search of friction. With his doe eyes, Jungkook looks up at you, confused and frowning at the overstimulation. You only chuckle in response and bend down to get momentum, wrapping your hand around his neck.

“Not gonna stop till you make me come, bunny.”

He blinks. “W-what?”

“I’ll keep fucking you and making you come until you use the words,” you grunt and bite his neck, making him yelp, “understood?”

“Fuck, f-fuck—”

His softened cock doesn’t take long before getting hard inside of you again, rubbing against your walls. It hurts like hell, makes him squirm and writhe on the bed under your cruel lovemaking, but Jungkook feels so utterly yours, and that alone is enough to get him hard.

You stroke his wet hair.

“Don’t worry, I’m close,” you groan then. “You’re such a good boy, baby, so good for mommy… Shit, fucking me open with your big dumb cock.” He thanks you for the praise with a thrust up into you. “I love you so much, Kookie, s-so much, let’s— let’s finish together, huh? Want you to fill me up until I’m dripping with your—”

“C-can’t!”

“Why not?”

“Because… it’s wrong!” he whimpers, already teetering on the edge again.

You kiss his lips and repeat, “Why?”

“Because if I come— come inside, we’ll m-make a baby!”

Even if Jungkook, with his high-pitched voice and his trembling body, tries to warn you about something that already happened a few minutes ago, you can’t help thinking that he’s a bit too much into the idea anyway, judging by the way that his cock twitches inside of you at the mere mention.

You can’t help chuckling.

“And we don’t want that, huh? We don’t want all your cum leaking out of my cunt because you came so hard,” you grunt to his ear. “That’d be a pity, such a waste…”

His cock throbs between your walls, and you can’t help clenching around him in excitement.

“M-mommy,” Jungkook cries again, nuzzling your neck.

The ache between your legs grows again, it builds so deep you think you might cum properly tonight. You keep letting out shaking breaths as you let him help you up and down his cock, your thighs too tired to keep doing all the work. He’s practically fucking himself into you, faster and faster as the both of you chase your and each other’s climax.

“S-such a pity you don’t wanna fill mommy up, bunny. I’d love to fuck you and make you cum inside again and again.” Your nails find his bronzed chest, nails sinking into the tight, sweaty flesh. He’s so handsome. “Until you’re a babbling mess that can’t even beg me to stop.”

“I love you too—”

“Yeah?”

Jungkook has to close his eyes this time. “S-so much, I love you, fuck!”

“That’s it, g-good boy,” you praise him in a moan and roll your hips once again. “Jungkook,” you suddenly warn him, looking down at him, “j-just so you know— I’m not pissing myself, okay?”

He looks up and you as he understands. “Y-you— for real?” You nod. “Shit, yes, please, please, mommy, spill it all over me—”

“So dirty.”

The pleasure in the pit of your stomach builds and grows. You ride him faster despite the burn in your thighs, and you cover your mouth to silence any loud sounds. His cock slides into you and bumps gently against your cervix, rubbing your sweet spot again and again.

Then, your muscles tighten.

“Fuck, I’m coming, bunny, wanna do it w-with me?”

Jungkook nods eagerly, probably already on the verge too, and grips your hand before placing it on his chest, never letting go of them. Finally, with the sparkle exploding inside the both of you and a loud moan, the shockwaves of your climax grip your body, and you let yourself go, stopping the pressure and spilling all over his pubis and cock. Jungkook comes barely a few seconds later with your walls clenching around him, emptying himself inside you with his eyes glued to the clear fluids spilled on him.

He lets out a whimper. “S-stop, please, stop, that’s—”

Once you’re done milking every last drop of his seed, you slide off his cock and collapse on top of him. You feel as if a truck had run you over.

“Didn’t know you could squirt,” Jungkook murmurs, wrapping himself around your body.

“Didn’t know you were into knocking me up.”

He turns an adorable shade of red and hides his face between your breasts. First, you coo at him, but then you feel his tongue poking out and licking one of your nipples, and you tap him on the head to get his attention.

“Can’t wait for a second round?” you say. “Either that or use your hand.”

“Getting old, huh?”

Silence settles between you; as you calmly catch your breath and let your fingernails scratch his head, Jungkook gets up to grab some towels and clean you up. When he returns to the bed, he lies back down with you.

“I know the bed is small, but don’t go, please,” Jungkook whispers, gently resting his forehead against yours. As he pulls you closer, his pupils tremble, always so strong-willed. “Stay…”

However, this time, you don’t have the energy to fight him. Nor the intention – his arms feel warm around you, and his skin is ever so soothing. You don’t want him to move either; want him curled against you, talking sweetly, peppering kisses across your shoulders. But you’re tired, you can’t keep your eyes open anymore, not after such long sleepless nights and anxious days. This time, you lose the battle, and you don’t care.

There’s someone in the room when you wake up. Slowly, you regain your ability to think and spot a figure tidying a backpack with his back turned to you. It takes you a few seconds to remember that you are lying naked on Jungkook’s bed, but once you catch on to the situation, you quickly snatch the sheets to cover yourself up to your nose.

“Oh, sorry, did I wake you up?” Seokjin doesn’t turn to look at you, still focused on his backpack’s contents. “It’s okay, I’ll leave in a second.”

“Don’t worry…”

Okay, so this is Jungkook’s mysterious new roommate... Now you get why he didn't want to talk about it last night. But if they’re okay with the situation, you won't say anything.

That’s when you notice Jungkook’s heavy, overly warm body stir behind you. He’s muttering something you don’t quite make out, and soon you feel his lips kissing your shoulders as his groggy arms wrap around you.

“Good morning, noona,” he says with a smile. “Did you sleep well? You know, my ass still hurts.”

As he chuckles at his own words, you can’t help sighing. Seokjin laughs too and, finally aware of his presence, Jungkook sits up. You glance sideways at him over your shoulder smiling, amused by his soft blush. Well, at least you’re not the only mortified loser here, are you? And he’s always so cute when he gets flustered.

“I-I completely forgot you’d be here, hyung,” he mutters.

‘Hyung’? You look at Seokjin, arching an eyebrow. Since when does Jungkook call him ‘hyung’? That’s suspicious.

But Seokjin simply lets out a natural laugh. “Where else should I be? It’s nine in the morning, and some of us have things to do, you know; people to see, places to go.”

“Well, I had things to go, too, places to see,” Jungkook says then, looking at you and kissing your jaw, “people to do.” But you nudge him, making him let out a groan of pain mixed with a breathless chuckle. “I was just joking, noona, don’t get mad—”

“How come you two are such good friends now?” you ask, squinting your eyes. “I thought you’d be at each other’s throats.”

“Seokjin-hyung told me what actually happened at the flat. Sorry I wouldn’t listen.”

“You better be,” you purr in his ear, a bit louder than you should if you in fact didn’t want Seokjin to hear; “I can’t believe you’d rather listen to the evil ex-boyfriend than your poor, innocent girlfriend.”

“I might have listened to her if I had a girlfriend like that,” he teases you instead.

“You must be a very faithful man, then— begging for mercy from someone you know has none at all.”

You lean in for a kiss, cupping his cheek as Jungkook reciprocates, his eyes fluttering closed. You brush your lips against his before biting down on them, drink up his little whimper, and take the chance to swirl your tongues together. Jungkook shifts on the mattress so that he can hug your waist, his chest warming up against your skin.

“I guess that’s my clue to get out.” Shit, you completely forgot about Seokjin. “Don’t be too loud and use protection. I’ll see you at practice!” he says to Jungkook. “And Y/N, I will see you around.”

Then the door closes behind him.

“That was weird.”

But the two of you seem to have very different conversation priorities in mind.

“You know, yesterday, um, we didn’t have time to fully talk things out,” he murmurs once Seokjin is gone, lowering his eyes.

You leave a playful peck on his jaw. “Guess our mouths were too busy—”

“N-no, I mean it.” Jungkook gently pushes you away to look into your eyes. “Are we— are we going out now? Like, going out together? As in… formally dating each other?” Your chuckle makes his pupils tremble. “I mean…! I guess it’s okay if you need some time to—”

But you kiss him again instead of saying anything; you cup his cheeks with both of your hands and deepen the contact, shutting him up. The smile doesn’t disappear from your face, though, so you’re looking down at him like a love-drunk idiot when you pull away. He’s just so adorable and precious and sexy and cute and literally your everything.

“Didn’t I just say I’m your girlfriend?” you say then, still grinning. “I was kind of hoping that’d make you my boyfriend in return.”

Jungkook lets out a relieved chuckle and takes your hand when it runs down onto his chest.

“So, do you wanna stay over? We could order some food, watch a movie,” he asks quietly, still emotionally squishy because of the confession, “take a nap, anything you want.”

You smile.

“Of course I’ll stay.”

Don’t hesitate to like, reblog, and leave some feedback if you liked it! It’s always good and encouraging to know what you think <3

“STAY” is copyright ²⁰²² Lola Bangtan, all rights reserved.

[btsgotjams27]

this is us ~ jjk | 17

it's been one year since the breakup, have jungkook and y/n been able to move on?

✨ title: this is us | ongoing series (sequel to all grown up) ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: m/18+ | minors dni ✨ genre/au: drama, romance, angst, fluff, smut | est!relationship, age gap ✨ playlist | AO3 & Wattpad ✨ a/n: if you haven’t read the prequel to this, please do so here! :) ✨ a/n 2: hi, everyone! i'm sorry this update took so long but a lot of y'all preferred a longer chapter and here it is! i opted out of one scene but may save it later for a drabble. let me know your thoughts, especially how you think jk & oc will meet again. 👀

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] | next ✨ 18 ~ you're seeing things, aren't you?

chapter seventeen ~ one year later | wc: 8.8k warnings: pov switch, alex is back (but just for a bit and some of you may or may not like their convo), alcohol consumption, language, yoongi + oc bickering, yuna being yuna, baby indie is a big girl now T_T, jk has a new friend 👀, mama jeon is such a treat, some of our fav friends make an appearance, our jk + oc are both growing

~ one year after the breakup ~

Jungkook POV

The silver key struggled to fully unlatch the lock. Jungkook would remind himself whenever he needed to contact the landlord, but he could never remember until he unlocked the front door.

Summer in LA was warm and dry, but of course, with his luck, this was Jungkook’s first week of the summer without any air conditioning.

He shouldered the door, putting his body and weight into it. “Jeez,” he mumbled under his breath.

Not only was the door and air conditioning a mess but also his apartment. Clothes scattered everywhere, the stuffing from the sectional coming undone, it almost looked like someone partied too hard, but that wasn’t the case for Jungkook.

The sound of shuffling and grunting caused him to sprint toward his room, to find a tail wagging joyfully before him. Bam’s head was buried deep in Jungkook’s sock drawer, not giving a care in the world because he was looking for some kind of hidden treasure.

“I was wondering who was making all this noise.”

The six-month-old pup stopped digging and turned around. Just like his dad, he had big doe eyes that also held the stars in them. Hanging from Bam’s mouth was a white sock, clearly filled with something in it. Jungkook quickly took it from Bam’s mouth, stuffing it into the same place it was found. Bam sat and lowered his head.

“Aye–I really can’t leave you alone, can I? How'd you get out?”

Jungkook set his backpack down and sat in front of his big baby. He ruffled and scratched Bam’s floppy, brown ears before placing a kiss on his head.

“What are we gonna do when I have to leave you next week, hmm?”

Bam whined and then licked Jungkook’s cheek, making him lean back.

“What were you looking for?”

The Doberman backed up and returned to the drawer he found the sock in, his nose nipping at the loose knob.

“No. No. There’s nothing in there for you.”

Bam begins to paw at the drawer again, unrelenting in his pursuit of whatever was in that sock–so, he did find treasure. Jungkook decides to give up on Bam. No matter how many times he told him there was nothing in there for him, the stubborn pup would just keep going back to it.

“Bamie, should we go for a walk and get dinner?”

When he heard ‘walk,’ he whipped his head around, panting excitedly at his owner. Taking Bam on a walk was the best way to distract his four-legged friend.

If there was one thing Jungkook never took for granted, it was the beauty of a California sunset. The sky was painted with soft shades of peach and cotton candy pink, palm trees dispersed along the guided path, bicycle bells faintly dinging in the distance, and chatter and laughter filled the air.

The blood pumping through Jungkook’s veins was going into overdrive, as this was the second run of the day for him. He already ran before going to work. But doing this would tire him and Bam out, so they would knock out when returning home.

He called out to Bam before slowing down and coming to a complete stop. Although the summer nights in LA were cool, he was still getting used to the dry heat. His fringe was getting too long, falling and covering his eyes when he ran. He had been tempted for weeks to cut it, but Jimin suggested tying it up or getting a headband. There was no need to cut it dramatically if he liked his hair long.

“Sorry!”

A voice cried out, brushing by Jungkook and Bam, nearly knocking into them while on their rollerskates. Jungkook instinctively pulled Bam’s leash to the side, veering away from the congested pathway. He hadn’t realized how busy this time of night had become. He kneeled down, rubbing under Bam’s chin, turning him from side to side to see if he was okay.

“Bamie, are you okay?” His pup didn’t seem fazed as he licked Jungkook’s mouth. “Oh–” He scrunched his face from the wet saliva and dog breath. “Remind me to brush your teeth when we get home.” Jungkook chuckled and shook his head.

A buzz reverberated from Jungkook’s pocket. He pulled it out, answering the video call, while walking toward a bench to sit, and Bam obediently followed.

“How’s my baby?”

He could see the outline of a small human, and when the video cleared, the only thing in the frame was his niece, Indie's chubby cheeks and double chin.

“Wo-wo. Wo-wo.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, trying to decipher what Indie could be referring to.

“Wo-wo. Wo-wo.” She continued repeating the same phrase while sitting in Yuna’s lap, clambering her little chubby fingers at the screen, causing the phone to shake on their end.

“She wants to see Bam.”

“Oh–” Jungkook finally understood and panned the screen to Bam. If the two were to ever meet in person, they’d be inseparable, Jungkook thought.

Indie’s babbling persisted before the screen panned back to Yuna. “Who’s a big boy now?” she asked in a baby voice. Bam barked in response. “Yes, you–you’re a big boy.”

“You’re doing it again.”

“Sorry! It’s a bad habit. I’ll stop. Where are you, anyway?”

Jungkook switches the camera to the back, showing off the sunset he witnessed before switching it back to his face.

“It’s so pretty! We really need to come visit, or better yet. When are you coming back to visit?”

“I’m planning to come next week.”

“Oh, you are? Perfect!” Yuna stood and placed Indie on her hip while struggling to hold onto the phone simultaneously.

“Why?”

“Because it’s also Mom’s birthday, and she wants to have a big dinner with our family to celebrate.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m coming back. For her and, well, to see my baby.” He didn’t know when it started, but he started to call his niece his baby since she was the only person he could call that now. 

“Okay–cool. Are you gonna stay with us? Mom? Jin? Crash with Hyunie and Taehyung?”

All of those were viable options, but he knew if he stayed with his sister, there could be a chance he’d run into you, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready for that yet. Granted, it has been over a year, but the thought of seeing you after so long still made his stomach flutter. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“Yuna! I brought your cheesecake!”

Jungkook’s ears perked up, and he looked to Bam for comfort, who was scanning every person walking by. He instantly recognized that voice. He’d know it anywhere.

“You can put it in the fridge!” Yuna turned her attention back to her baby brother. “Just let us know, ‘kay?”

“Where’s my baby girl? Auntie missed you so much!”

Jungkook became flustered, scrambling to devise an excuse so he didn’t have to see you in the video call. “My phone’s gonna die. I’ll talk to you later, Noona!”

Click.

He leaned back on the concrete bench, with Bam turned to him, tilting his head at his owner’s curious change in demeanor. Seeing you in photos was enough for him, but to see you live and in action, with the possibility of you saying hi—he wasn't ready for that. Maybe he'd work up the courage someday, but today wasn't the day.

four days until Seoul.

It's not that he was dreading seeing his family. He was excited to celebrate his mom's birthday and to meet his niece in person. He dreaded the giant elephant in the room when he would be around everyone again. He'd put his money on Jin or Taehyung to say something to 'ease the tension,' but he shouldn't expect anything less because he did leave without proper goodbyes. It's been a year; they should be over it, right? They should've forgiven him by now.

A knock on his office door brought him back to reality. He looked up to see his ex and colleague, Alex. 

The door creaked open, and Alex poked her head through. “Late night?” she asked, slowly opening the door wider, keeping her hand on the knob as she leaned against the frame.

“Yeah, just finishing up this presentation for tomorrow’s meeting. Everything has to be perfect before I leave.”

“Everything always has to be perfect for you, huh?”

“What do you mean?” He stopped clicking and clacking at his keyboard and looked up at Alex.

“I mean, we fucked around a lot in college, but I couldn’t not notice how you needed everything to be perfect. Your grades, attendance–for god’s sake, you fold your underwear.”

Hearing this from Alex was surprising. He didn’t think she paid attention to anything else but sleeping around.

Alex cleared her throat. “Anyway, can I talk to you?”

Jungkook gestured for her to take the seat facing his desk. You’d think this would be another ploy from Alex, considering this is how the mess with them started–Alex walking into his office and sitting in a chair. But since Jungkook started his new job in LA, it was like Alex was a completely different person. He could hardly recognize the person she was when she returned from her vacation. She was nicer and happier. It was like she did a complete 180. Jungkook was wary when she would come around his office, so he kept his distance and was civil in his interactions, along with keeping his head down in case anyone figured out anything happened between him and Alex.

“Can we talk about what happened when I was in Seoul?”

She did apologize somewhat, but Jungkook felt it wasn’t genuine at the moment. He thought he’d never see the day she would be sorry for her actions.

“What about it?”

It had been so long ago that he had accepted his mistake and moved on. He wasn’t sure why she needed to bring it up now. Maybe she was having a faith crisis and asking forgiveness from those she wronged. It did sting every time he saw her for the first few months at work, a constant reminder that he wasn’t with you, but it also garnered him to hold his ground and be a better man–to not give in so easily to his desires. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy working with Alex, his guard was always up, ready for anything that she’d throw his way, but like the wildcard that she is, she always surprised him.

“I'm not good at this ‘whole talking about my feelings thing,’ you know that. I, um, just thought I should apologize for how I've treated you throughout the time that we’ve known each other. I wasn't the best person when you knew me in college, I was going through a lot of my own shit, and you were kind of my outlet—well, sex was kind of my outlet, and then with the whole thing in Seoul. We talked about it, but I shouldn't have come onto you like I did. It was wrong of me to take advantage of you, and I’m sorry that I made you uncomfortable.”

Jungkook leaned back into his office chair, processing everything Alex said. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. He could easily be spiteful, blow her off, or forgive and accept her apology.

“What’s done is done. We can’t go back and change the past.”

Even if there was a time machine to go back and fix mistakes, Jungkook wouldn’t do it because it would’ve created an alternate timeline which could’ve led to the same outcome for you and him. Regardless of how things turned out between you and him, he knew you needed time apart to grow up and blossom independently without him.

His decision to move to LA was made out of a reckless, emotional place, but he acknowledged that and learned not to make such illogical decisions based on how he’s feeling at the moment. Maybe minus the unexpected choice of getting Bam on a whim, but that’s beside the point. Jungkook had learned from his mistakes and was trying to improve. He didn’t want to return to how things were and how he was.

“Yeah, I know, but I can still apologize for my past behavior and hope to change for the future.”

He took a moment before responding, “And are you changing? Or trying to, at least?”

That’s all one could hope for, right? Even with a person like Alex. Everyone deserves some kind of redemption and the right to move on and be happy. He wasn’t the kind of person to wish the worst on someone. It wasn’t in his DNA, no matter how hard he tried.

“I think so? I'd like to hope so.”

Alex’s phone buzzed, and she took a moment to answer, grinning from ear to ear. Jungkook had never seen her smile like that–it was authentic, filled with joy. She returned her attention back to Jungkook, holding her phone out, which illuminated the home screen. He couldn’t help but glance at her wallpaper, a photo of her hugging someone. He had heard rumors going around the office, but he wasn’t someone who cared for gossip. It was her life, and she could do what she wanted. It was none of his business.

“Okay, then, I guess that’s all I can really ask for.”

“That's one thing I always liked about you.”

“What?”

“How after all the many things I put you through, you’re always so forgiving. I bet the people in your life don’t deserve you, huh?”

Jungkook stopped to think about it. Was he always so easy to forgive and forget? Maybe that was his problem. “Probably not, but—” he shrugged. “Anything else you need to get off your chest?”

She shifted in her chair. “Why’d you do it?”

“Do what?”

Alex bit the inside of her cheek before speaking, “Give into me.”

Jungkook wasn’t expecting to go there with Alex, but since she brought it up, the question lingered night and day for a long time, and ultimately, he concluded that he did it out of fear. He wasn’t scared of Alex; he was scared of not being enough for you because you didn’t share yourself with him, and he resorted to a place of familiarity. It’s no excuse, and he knows that, but it wasn’t something he could change now.

He cleared his throat. “I was insecure at that time in my relationship. I didn’t think I was good enough for her.”

Alex nervously rubbed the back of her neck. “Got it. I, um, you don’t have to explain any further.”

Jungkook lightly tapped on his desk, unconsciously swiveling from side to side in his chair. His lips thinned, waiting to see what else she needed from him.

“There’s one last thing. It looks like you’ll need to pack up your office because you’ll be getting mine.”

“Oh? Why?”

“I'm leaving, Jungkook. I got a new job. Guess you won’t be seeing me anymore.”

He was tempted to ask what was next for her, but he bit his tongue. Whatever she had going for her must’ve been a good offer if she were to leave her current position. Alex always knew what she wanted and went after it; to some degree, Jungkook admired that.

Alex stood, making her way out of Jungkook’s office. Before heading out the door, she stopped to ask one more thing, “What happened with you and your girlfriend?”

“You mean the one that slapped the shit out of you?” He tightened his lips and tried hard to suppress the smile creeping up. He was still proud of you for that. “We broke up. I wouldn’t be here if we were still together.”

She nervously tapped on the door frame, avoiding his gaze. “I’m sorry about that. I do hope you guys find your way back to each other. You seemed to have loved her very much.”

Jungkook acknowledged her comment with a nod and a low hum. He had dreamt about that happening so many times, but it’s been over a year since the two of you had broken up. So he gave up on you coming back to him a long time ago. It was a silly dream that he needed to let go of–the one thing to really set him free.

“Good luck with everything.”

“Thanks, Jungkook. You too.”

Friday nights wouldn’t be complete without Korean fried chicken and cold beer. It was Jimin’s turn to buy, and Jungkook told him to go all out before leaving on his trip. He wanted his belly full of yummy food.

“Where’s Lana?” Jungkook asked before taking a huge bite out of the crispy chicken drumstick.

Jimin chewed as fast as he could before answering, “She’s out with her friends at a bachelorette party.”

“I guess it’s that time when everyone we know is getting engaged or married, right?” Jungkook set his drumstick on the plate before him, and he looked over at Bam, who was patiently waiting for any scrap of food from his owner. He made a face at his four-legged friend, who whined as he lay beside Jungkook.

“It’ll be my turn soon.” Jimin dug in his back pocket, struggling to take out his phone. He unlocked the screen, then scrolled through his photos, handing his phone to Jungkook.

“No way! You’re gonna propose soon?”

Jimin grinned, taking the phone from Jungkook to stare at the ring he had chosen. “Yup! I have it all figured out.”

“Congrats, man. That’s exciting.”

“Thanks! Let’s pray she doesn’t turn me down,” Jimin jokes, sipping his beer. “What about you? What’s new?”

“Alex is leaving.”

“Whoa–the bitch is finally leaving us for good,” Jungkook deadpanned. “What? Am I wrong?” he asked dryly, raising his eyebrow.

Jimin only knew of the ‘Alex’ in college, not the one where she had actually grown up. Jungkook couldn’t help but witness the miracle unraveling before his eyes at work–it was hard to avoid.

“I think she’s changed.”

“Oh! Don’t tell me you’re standing up for her!” Jimin blinked a few times at his naive friend.

“I’m not–”

He wasn’t. He was merely acknowledging the growth he had seen. He couldn’t deny it, even if his friend didn’t believe him. Who would’ve thought that Jungkook would live to see the day someone like Alex could actually change? That was the beauty of knowing someone over a period of time, right? Seeing them go through different stages of their lives, becoming better or worse, in this case, Jungkook had witnessed the miracle of Alex becoming a decent human being.

“She ruined your relationship–”

“I know…” Jungkook said, “But I think she’s really different now.”

Jimin set his beer down and interlaced his fingers, waiting for his friend’s explanation. “Please, Jungkook. Enlighten me.”

“She’s moving to Switzerland,” he paused, “With her girlfriend.” Jungkook tilted his head, ready for Jimin’s reaction to the news. It also took Jungkook a second to process and rethink everything he had with Alex.  

Jimin’s eyes widened as he covered his mouth. “Shit–” Jungkook kicked him under the table. “What? I mean, good for her! Who would’ve thought that Alex was into girls? Man, that really threw me in for a loop.” He leaned against the sofa’s cushion. “Well, I guess she’s not gonna be a problem anymore.”

Jungkook let out a rueful chuckle. If only things had turned out differently for you and him. Where would the two of you be now?

“So, are you excited about going back to Seoul?” Jimin couldn’t help but wiggle his eyebrows. Jungkook knew what he was referring to.

“I’m just visiting; besides, I've moved on.” It was something he needed to convince himself of on a daily basis, but it was easier said than done.

“Uh-huh, sure. Is that why you still keep that thing hidden in your sock drawer?”

Jungkook opened his mouth, but nothing came out; then, he looked at the culprit sitting beside him. And which thing was Jimin referring to? The small box? The photo album? “How do you know about that?”

Jimin leaned over to pat Bam’s bottom. “This big guy knows all your secrets. Don’t you, Bamie?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, scratching the back of Bam’s ears. “You guys better not go digging through my things while I’m gone,” he threatened with a stare. He definitely didn’t want Jimin coming across your boudoir album. He had kept that baby safe–at least, he hoped he did. Maybe he should move it again or put it in a safe deposit box or something; imagine it getting into the wrong hands.

“Hey man, it’s not gonna be me.” He leaned over to Jungkook and glanced at Bam. “It’ll be this guy,” Jimin added while covering his mouth and pointing to Bam.

Bam is a smart aleck; he knows when others are talking about him. He stood and walked over to Jimin to lay his head in Jimin’s lap. 

Jimin leaned down, ruffling Bam’s ears. “Don’t worry, Bamie. I won’t tell Jungkookie what we find.”

Jungkook shook his head at the two schemers. He had meant to get rid of what was hidden in his sock drawer. He just hadn’t had time to do so.

back home in seoul

Jungkook found it odd how quiet Namjoon and Yuna’s place was. He thought it would be booming with laughter and chatter, granted he came home to celebrate his mom’s birthday.

“Ma! Noona! Hyung! Is anyone home?” Jungkook nearly tripped over the small step in the entryway as he took off his shoes. “What the hell? I thought they said they’d be here.” Unless they changed the location last minute and forgot to tell him.

He set his suitcase down; the lights illuminated the hallway as he walked toward the living room.

“Surprise!” 

The rest of the lights in the house turned on as Jungkook clutched his chest with one hand and leaned against the wall with the other.

“What the fuck!” Jungkook shook his head and let out a sigh of relief as he walked over to everyone.

“Yah–Is that how you greet your friends and family?” Jin strolled to the young man, ruffling Jungkook’s long hair.

“You know how much I hate surprise parties.”

“We couldn’t help it. We had to,” Yuna interjects, walking from a room with Indie on her hip. Indie squirms her way out of her mom’s arms, insisting on walking instead of being held. Yuna strode over to Jungkook, giving him a hug. “It’s good to see you, little brother.” She pulled away, taking a good look at him, her thumb gently caressing his cheek.

Indie ran over to Jungkook, pulling on his pant leg. She looked up with her big, curious eyes, her hair in cute little pigtails. “Wo-wo. Wo-wo.”

Jungkook knelt down to her level, squeezing her sides. “Sorry baby girl, wo-wo is back home.”

Indie is obviously uninterested when she learns her favorite pup is not with him, so she runs off, screaming around the living room.

Namjoon greets Jungkook with a hug. “My brother–you look good,” he paused to touch the ends of Jungkook’s hair, “It’s getting so long.”

“I don’t like it,” Yuna adds, “You look like Frodo Baggins.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. His sister was always opinionated, and didn’t expect any less from her. He tried something different today; it was too curly for his liking, so he tied it half-up, half-down.

Namjoon glared at his wife before returning to Jungkook. “It looks great, man.”

Jin walked up behind Jungkook. "Sorry to break up the love fest but I just wanted to pop in and say hi. I'll see you later?"

Jungkook nodded and said goodbye.

The sliding door to the backyard opened, and in walked Jungkook’s mom. “Ah–there’s my baby boy!” She sprinted over with open arms, cupped his cheeks before pulling him in for an embrace, then withdrew to get a good look at him, and that’s when she playfully smacked his arm. “That’s what you get for leaving without saying goodbye to your mother!”

“Ow–” Jungkook rubbed the spot she hit. “Ma–you’re still mad about that?”

She scowled at her son and muttered indistinct words under her breath as she walked into the kitchen.

Jungkook turned to Yuna. “Is Mom really still mad at me?”

Yuna shrugged. “It’s like college all over again. You never call. You never visit.”

“You know why I can’t.”

“Why can’t you guys just be grown-ass adults and be okay with being in the same room as one another? It’s not that hard.”

It was easy for Yuna to say. She wasn’t in an intimate relationship with you; she didn’t break your heart, and she didn’t run away because she couldn’t deal with all of this.

Jungkook’s eyes followed his sister as she walked into the kitchen, helping their mom prepare a dish. He hesitated to ask but mustered up the courage. “Is that why she’s not here?”

“She would be, but she’s in Phuket. She’s using Yoongi’s vacation home.”

“Oh.”

“I mean, she needs it. It's been a rough year for her.”

His mom doesn’t say anything. She peered at her son, wanting to tell him all the things you’ve been going through with your own mom, but it wasn’t her place to say anything. She looked away, going back to her previous task.

He could see the disappointment in his mother’s eyes; he had seen it before. A part of him wished he could be a part of your healing, but you’d blossom more without him.

Jungkook nervously tapped the counter. “Is Yoongi her boyfriend or something?” he asked as nonchalantly as possible.

“No, they’re just friends,” Yuna responded curtly.

Indie came running into the kitchen, dragging her blanket behind her. She wandered to the living room, and her eyes lit up when she spotted something in the entryway. She shuffled her little feet and dropped her blanket on the ground before grabbing the stuffed bunny, which was just as big as her.

Yuna chuckled. “I’m guessing that’s for Indie?”

The curves of Jungkook’s mouth curved up. “Yeah–you said she loved stuffies, so I found the biggest one when I arrived.”

Indie babbled and trotted along to her Uncle Jungkook, pulling the bunny by its ear. He picked her up along with the bunny.

“My baby, Indie, is so big now.” She wriggled out his arms and ran off with the stuffed animal. 

“Gosh–I’ve missed so much. Next thing I know, she’s going off to college.”

“You could move back, you know, and not miss any of this,” Yuna suggested.

Jungkook had thought about this every time he hung up with Indie. He had always wished to be the type of uncle who would be there for his nieces and nephews and hoped he would one day be able to do so.

“Hey, Ma. I’m gonna head out.”

“You’re leaving me already?” She teased as she stood to hug him.

Jungkook chuckled. “You know I can never leave you, right?”

She cupped Jungkook’s face, looking into his big, brown, doe eyes. She didn’t say anything. She wanted to take everything in–seeing the little boy she raised to become a good man who loved so deeply and passionately, just like his father.

“Are you going to let go or make me stay here all night?”

The corners of her mouth curved into a closed-lipped smile. “Don’t hurt her again, ‘mkay?”

Again? Hurt who? Hurt you?

He could only assume she was talking about you. There was a slim chance he knew he could run into you, but he wasn’t counting on it. Even if he could muster up the courage to start a conversation, he was too scared to go there, too scared to hear you tell him off again, to tell him there would be no chance you’d give him your relationship another try. He wouldn’t risk it.

Jungkook mirrored his mother’s smile, pulling her in for another embrace. Her frame felt smaller, or maybe he was just getting bigger.

She patted his back, withdrawing from him and looking at him once more. “It was good to see you, sweetheart. Don’t be a stranger and call me sometime, hmm?”

The dinner to celebrate his mom was quiet and low-key, and for that, Jungkook was thankful. He didn’t want a big spectacle of returning to town and dealing with distant relatives questioning his life. As much as he loved his family, he was already itching to leave the second dinner came to an end.

The taxi pulled up to a familiar location, one that brought too many memories of good times with you. But Jungkook wanted to stay with the person that was less likely to question him.

“It’s good to see you, man,” Jin sipped his beer. “I've missed having you in the office, but I hear you’re doing big things out there.”

Jungkook stared at the beer glass in front of him before looking at Jin, “I'm just trying my best. I wish I could come back.”

“You can!” Jungkook glared at him. “I’m joking. I'm joking, but seriously, are you doing okay out there?”

He was good. It was better than expected–being busy with work helped get his mind off many things, being near the beach calmed his nerves, and having Bam has been a huge comfort.

“It was hard at first, but now I'm getting into a steady rhythm with work and everything. I do miss everyone.”

“Come back when you’re ready, man.” Jin rubbed his shoulder, staring at his friend. “She's good, by the way. She’s doing a lot better than she was a year ago.”

Jungkook chuckled. It seemed as though everyone could recognize the big elephant in the room, semi-acknowledge it but didn’t delve further–maybe out of respect for you and him. It’s not that he didn’t want to talk about you or what happened, but he felt it would be better not to explore the ‘what ifs’ and ‘what could’ve been.’ It was more so for his sake, so he wouldn’t be disappointed and maybe move past it.

OC POV

You had been staring wide-eyed at your phone for far too long. Texts and photos were already deleted; the last thing you needed to do was delete Jungkook’s phone number. It’s not like you have called it or anything since you left that voicemail for him. The contact for him had just been there in case he ever drunk-dialed you, which he never did. But your therapist suggested maybe it was time to stop holding onto the last thing you felt was keeping you tied to him.

The button was right there.

Delete–to remove, to get rid of, to erase.

It was simple. You just needed to move your finger and hit the six-letter word. But instead, you chickened out and hit the call icon instead.

You brought the phone to your ear, “The number you dialed has been disconnected or is no longer in service.”

Of course, it was no longer in service. It was stupid of you to think he'd still have the same number. He lives in California now, so getting rid of his Seoul number would make sense.

Maybe this was your sign to delete it, finally. There was nothing to hold on to anymore. It’s not like you were expecting to get back together with him or anything.

But the contact still read: Boyfie.

You hadn't changed the name on his contact, and it still read what he was last to you.

Your shaky index finger moved closer to the three dots on his contact. His number was no longer in service; there was no need to keep it. How silly of you to be so scared just to do it, but you needed to let go and move on.

Taking a deep breath, you hit delete, and then the pop-up read: This contact will be removed from all your synced devices.

Cancel or Move to Trash.

Your finger hovered over the two options before hitting 'Move to Trash.' But there was one last thing to do. You went to your phone's trash and clicked 'Empty Trash Now.' If you didn't do this part, then his number would just stay there for another 30 days, and what would that exactly do for you?

Delete forever? - This can't be undone.

Cancel or delete forever?

Trash empty. 1 contact deleted forever.

You thought this moment would bring you relief, but it didn't. There was a twinge of sadness like your therapist had told you would happen. Getting over someone wouldn't happen overnight or in a millisecond; it would take time. Every day, you chipped away another piece of Jungkook–the more you chipped, the easier it became.

No more texts. No more photos. No more Jungkook.

You sported a lopsided grin–you were proud of yourself. Getting here had taken a long time, but you finally did it.

A knock on your door broke you out of your dazed state. You forgot Yuna was stopping by. Quickly, you ran to the door, opening it for her.

“I can’t believe I forgot your keycode,” she said, handing you a tote bag.

“Oh my god, Yuna. What the hell is in here? And why is it so heavy?” You struggled to lift the bag but did your best, bringing it to your kitchen counter.

“You know my mom loves to set you up with all her banchan. She doesn’t want you to starve.” Yuna put the other tote in her hand on the counter next to yours.

“I don’t think I’ll be starving for the next few months,” you joked, opening up your fridge. “Besides, I don’t know why she packed so much. I’ll be leaving soon for my trip.”

“Oh–right! That means you’ll have to eat it before you go.”

“How can I possibly finish all this?” You stared at the six stacks of Tupperware that filled your fridge. How was one person supposed to finish this? Maybe you could hand some off to Yoongi. He definitely ate take-out way too often.

“Take it to Hyunie and Taehyung’s. I’m sure they’ll appreciate it,” she suggested as she took out three more dishes from her tote.

Your eyes widened, and you shook your head, waving your hands. “No, no. Yuna–you have to take those back. I don’t want to waste anything your mom makes.”

“She loves you, you know. That’s why she made me bring all these.” Your lips thinned, taking the rest of the items from Yuna. “She’s sad you can’t come to her birthday dinner.”

“I want to be there, but I’ve planned this trip for a few months now.” You have never missed their mother's birthday dinners for the many years you’ve known Yuna. This one would be your first.

“I know. I know,” she trailed off, folding the tote before her. “I swear sometimes she likes you more than she likes me.”

You chuckled and looked at your best friend. It’s funny how you always thought the same about your mother and Yuna. Oh, how the tables have turned.

“Hold on–I have her birthday present.”

You strolled toward the hallway closet, pulling out a pastel pink bag.

“What’d you get her?” Yuna asked, peering through the white tissue paper to look inside.

“She’d been talking about this handmade tea set for the last few months, so I finally managed to get my hands on one for her.” It was made of the most beautiful marbled ceramic with rose gold painted throughout the tea set. You weren’t going to lie; you wanted one for yourself even though you didn’t drink tea.

“Wow–you really would’ve made the perfect daughter-in-law.” You deadpanned. “What? I’m just stating the obvious.” Yuna stood, strolling to your living room.

“Anyway, give that to her for me, okay? And tell her I’ll bring back a souvenir from Phuket.”

Yuna slumps on your couch. “Can you pack me in your luggage? I wanna go lounge around on the beach and do nothing.”

“I’m sure Yoongi would be more than happy to let you guys use his place next time, or we could all make a trip out of it.” You were grateful for Yoongi being so generous with his vacation home. This solo trip is very much needed.

“Hmm, maybe once Indie is older, we can all go.” You nodded, taking a seat beside Yuna. She turns to you, patting your thigh. “I’m proud of you.”

You scoffed. “What’s there to be proud of?”

“Don’t sell yourself short. I know I’ve been hard on you these last few months, and you know I’m only doing it because I love you and want what’s best for you.”

Everyone always needs someone to keep them down-to-earth and sincere, and Yuna was yours. After all these years, she’s stuck by you through thick and thin.

“I secretly think you love getting on my case.”

“Someone has to tell you what’s up!” Yuna sneered, crossing her arms.

You turned to her, pulling her in for an embrace. “And I’m so glad you’re my person.” You kissed her temple as she withdrew from your hug, annoyed by your sarcasm. “No, seriously. I can only imagine how hard it was being stuck in the middle between Jungkook and me. So, thanks for sticking it out with me.”

“You’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you. I’d fight for you before I would for Jungkook,” she half-joked. “Kidding. I love you both, and I’m glad to see you doing better, and this trip will only help with that.”

“It’s been so long since I’ve done anything for myself. It’ll be a nice little retreat for me.”

“What are you doing while you’re there?”

“I’m not sure yet. Swim, eat, explore, maybe write a little.”

“That sounds heavenly. I’m jealous.”

“You can come with me next time.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“I want you to imagine yourself as a little girl. What age are you?”

With your eyes closed, you try to imagine yourself as a little girl. You only see the back of her, and she’s in a floral dress. “She’s about 7 or 8.”

“Can you describe your surroundings?”

“It’s quite dark, and I can’t see where she is. But it could be an open field?”

“Okay, that’s a good start. Now, I want you to go up to her and see what happens.”

You do as your therapist says, walking up to this imaginary version of you. You hesitate as you stand behind her to gather the right words. The imaginary version of you begins to whimper and cry. Immediately, you walked around to her and knelt, getting on her level. The little girl looks down at you, wiping away her tears.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, holding her hands in yours.

“I’m scared.” Her eyes were glassy, with tears threatening to fall.

“What are you scared of?”

“That no one loves me.”

A faint mumble of your name could be heard, calling you back from this short exercise. You opened your eyes, and like the imaginary version of you, your eyes were glassy with tears building up.

“What did the two of you talk about?”

You hated these exercises your therapist made you do. You always ended up in tears and coming to the same conclusion, except you’d talk to yourself at different stages in your life. Though this one was the first time you’d spoken to your younger self, and this one was tougher because she was so young and childlike and hadn’t done anything wrong in her life.

“The same thing we always talk about.”

“And what is that?”

She knew what it was, you’d been doing this over the past few months, but she always made you verbalize it.

“That no one loves me.”

“And do you believe that’s true?”

Your mind automatically said yes, though, in your heart, you knew it wasn’t. You looked at your hands, interlaced on your lap, as your thumbs twiddled back and forth.

She called your name again, waiting for your answer.

You straighten your posture and look directly into her eyes. “No, it’s not true.”

“And how do you know it’s not true? Who are the people in your life that love you?”

“Yuna, Hyunie, Namjoon, and maybe Taehyung,” you chuckled. The two of you loved to squabble and disagree on many things. It’s not that you didn’t like him or anything; you adored him. He was just a very hard person to read, and sometimes you sensed you bugged him.

“I’d say that’s a pretty good list.”

The corners of your mouth curved up. “They’re good people. I’m lucky to have them in my life.”

“So, our session for today is coming to an end. There is one thing I’d like you to focus on while we’re on a small break.” You nod, leaning forward to give her your full attention. “Have fun.”

You’re taken aback for a moment. You thought she’d have something insightful and profound to say before you went on your trip, but it was as simple as possible.

“That’s it?”

She chuckled. “Yes–that’s it. You’ve put in the hard work, and you’re growing, even if you may not see it right away. So, go have some fun, and I’ll see you when you return.”

Flying has never been your strong suit, and then to add on, doing everything solo sent your anxiety through the roof. Your research for this trip could be put into a how-to guidebook at this point.

When you arrived at Yoongi’s vacation home, you were expecting something dark and cold like his apartment in Seoul, but it was the exact opposite–warm and welcoming.

The view from the balcony was impressive, to say the least, the backdrop was the lush, green jungle, and you were only fifteen minutes away from the beach. Although you had a few things planned, you weren’t in a rush to check off your list. You wanted to take your time and really soak everything in. After all, this trip was meant to be relaxing.

Three days into your trip and you were already bored out of your mind. As an overachiever, you crossed off two-thirds of your list. You went to the night market, visited a few temples, fed the elephants, and even went to the island where they filmed James Bond.

You realized that you liked having time to yourself, but you wanted to enjoy these experiences with other people–specifically those you loved. The thought even crossed your mind to cut the trip short and make it back in time for Yuna’s mother’s birthday dinner, but you knew Yuna would just scold you for returning so early.

Guess you’d be stuck here, but maybe you should try to make the best of it. It’s not often you’re in a tropical setting by yourself.

You opted for a luxury resort spa on Naka Island for the next few days. Your bank account would hate you, but you’d worry about that later when you got back to Seoul. There was no need to stress about it now.

The only noises that left your mouth were moans and groans–from the knots the masseuse managed to draw out from you. You wished it was from something else, but you promised yourself you wouldn’t rush into anything with anyone. You didn’t want to repeat the past because that’s how you got into trouble. If the right person came along, then you’d take your time. There was absolutely no rush.

The warmth from the sun had felt wonderful on your skin as you sat beneath the beach umbrella. The calming sounds from the ocean helped relax your body after the intense massage. You rolled your shoulder back, groaning in pain as you stretched.

You told yourself if inspiration struck, then you’d write, but other than that, you wanted to disconnect from your phone and the rest of the world.

Daily naps on the beach became your go-to, along with a Sabai Sabai, a Thai cocktail you’d grown fond of. And with being disconnected from the world, you had nothing better to do than listen to strangers’ conversations which sparked an idea that bloomed into the script you began writing.

The premise? A rival-to-lovers, where two CEOs have to work together to take down the company that wants to destroy both of theirs while being stuck on an island. You had to include an island setting. It only made sense after all. It had become your source of inspiration.

Your mini-getaway to Naka Island was a smart choice. You came back to Yoongi’s place with nearly thirty pages of the start of a new script–a proud feat, to say the least. So you’d spent the last day getting ready to return to Seoul.

You snuggled into the king-sized bed, taking advantage of the spectacular view and adding a few more pages. The apricot and peachy hues of the sunset painted the sky, and you stayed focused on the scene until dusk had taken over. With your laptop being the only light source, you closed it and set it to the side. This bed was too comfortable for your own good.

It was nearly two in the morning when you heard a noise coming from the living room. You were sure you had locked the door, but maybe one of the stray cats you saw around the neighborhood had entered the house.

With sleepy eyes, you rolled out of bed, scanning the room to see what you could take to protect yourself. The only thing you still had out was your hair straightener, so it would have to do for now.

You shuffled into the living room with your straightener in your hand and flipped on the light. “What the fuck! Why didn’t you call me to say you were coming? I could've killed you.” You were right; it was a stray cat.

“With what? Your hair straightener?” Yoongi blinked, scanning you up and down. “Nice jammies, by the way. Were you expecting company or something?”

You used your robe to cover yourself, crossing your arms and scowling at the man before you. “Shut up.”

“Sorry, I tried getting in touch, but you never responded. So I had to come to make sure someone didn’t murder you. You know, since you have some weird obsession with that happening to you.”

“Oh—I’m sure you’ll smother me in my sleep tonight.”

“Well, just don’t tell me your dreams never come true.”

You rolled your eyes. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“I’m meeting with my location manager to scout some spots tomorrow.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to the James Bond Island.”

Yoongi tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “How’d you know?”

“I took a wild guess.” You watched him set his things down. “Well, I’ll be out of your hair soon. I can move my things so you can sleep in the master bedroom.”

“No, no.” He waved his hands. “It’s fine. I’ll take the spare.”

“Yoongi, it’s your place. I don’t mind.” You walk off toward the bedroom, determined to make sure he takes the master bedroom.

“Are you always this stubborn?” Yoongi asked, following after you.

You turn to him with a smile. “Yes.”

“You’re not gonna give up until I sleep in this bed tonight, huh?”

“Nope.”

After the early morning intrusion, Yoongi wanted to apologize by treating you to coffee before you had to leave. The freshly made Patongo donuts were sweet and fluffy, perfect for your Thai iced coffee, and the view from the cafe was gorgeous. It was a great day to lounge outside.

“So, how’s everything going?” Yoongi asked, taking a bite of his donut as he slouched in his seat.

“It’s fine.” Yoongi gave you an expressionless face. “I mean, it’s going well. It’s been wonderful. It’s so nice; I might just retire here,” you teased.

“You’re gonna be an old lady with your twenty cats.” The two of you witness a stray cat walk by.

You sneered at Yoongi. “That was a weird coincidence, and I’m not really a cat kinda gal.”

Yoongi chuckled. “Well, I’m glad you’re doing well. It’s nice to see you happy.”

You put your hand over your chest in exaggeration. “Did Min Yoongi just give me a compliment? Today must be my lucky day.”

“And that’s all you’ll get from me, you hear!” He smiled and shook his head. “No, but seriously. Your energy—it’s different.”

You didn’t want to continue quarreling with him. Instead, you nodded in agreement. This past year was painful and full of heartache, but then it started to look up—with more smiles, laughter, and tears of joy. Your hope was it would continue like this. After all, you deserved it.

You stuffed your things into the back of Yuna’s car before taking a seat on the passenger side, and to your surprise, you heard baby Indie babbling behind you. The only thing you could see popping above her head was a giant stuffed bunny.

“That’s cute. Did you buy it for Indie?” You asked as Yuna drove away from the airport.

Yuna quickly glanced in the rearview before looking at you, hesitating to answer. “Jungkook bought it.”

“Oh.” He must’ve ordered it or something, right?

“He came to visit while you were gone,” she admitted while her eyes were focused on the road. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know if you’d try to sabotage your trip and come back early.”

She was right. You would’ve been tempted to devise an excuse, but you really had no reason to. “Well, I wish you would’ve told me so I could make my own decision instead of you making it for me.”

“I know. I’m sorry. You’ve been doing so well with moving on and therapy–I just didn’t want you to regress.”

You understood where her heart was, but still, you were a big girl. You didn’t need her to mother you.

“Wo-wo. Wo-wo,” Indie continued repeating the phrase before throwing her bunny to the side and clapping at her accomplishment.

The car came to a stop, and Yuna looked over. “Do you forgive me?”

You rolled your eyes. “I guess, but can you let me make my own choices next time?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Yuna smiled, pausing to see Indie’s hands playing with her shoe from the rearview. “So, how was Phuket?”

“It was great until Yoongi showed up.”

“Yoongi showed up?” Yuna questioned, her tone going up an octave.

“Yeah–for like a split second. He caught me on the last day of my trip.”

“Oh,” Yuna’s comment lingered, indicating something else was happening. “And there’s nothing going on between you two?”

You shook your head. “No,” you said curtly, “I didn’t sleep with him if that’s what you’re asking.” Why did something always have to happen between a man and a woman? Could they simply not be friends? Was there always something more?

“Okay, I’m just curious, that’s all.”

“We’re just friends. Nothing more.”

“Okay, okay. Message received–loud and clear.” She tapped on the steering wheel. “So, when are you guys getting married?”

“I–you’re lucky we’re in the car!”

“Shh–Indie is trying to nap, so I brought her.”

You scoffed at your best friend; she wouldn’t let this go so easily, was she?

Coming back home felt torturous. You had nothing lined up in terms of work. The only thing you had going was the script you had started in Phuket. You guessed you could work on that for the time being.

But–you were stuck. Writer’s block came in like a wrecking ball. Maybe you should’ve stayed in Phuket longer. Yoongi even offered to have you accompany him to scout some places, but you didn’t want to overstay your welcome. He had already provided so much in terms of his vacation home.

A notification from your phone went off. You pick it up to see a text message from your agent.

Jae 9:27 AM How much do you love me?

You 9:28 AM You know you’re my favorite person in the world.

Jae 9:29 AM Now I know that’s a complete lie. Anyway! I have a big opportunity for you. Are you free for lunch today?

“Jae, can you just say what you want to say? I’ve been sitting here listening to you ramble about your pet hedgehog.”

Jae blinked profusely as his lips thinned. “Okay, fine. Netflix wants to partner with you,” he finally spits out while you choke on your water.

You cover your mouth as you cough and clear your throat. “I’m sorry, what?”

“They really loved your show with Kenji and want you to come to their headquarters to discuss potential positions they could see you in.”

Your eyes narrowed. “You’re joking, right?”

He pointed to his face. “Does it look like I’m joking?”

You sighed, looking around the table and then back at Jae. “I don’t know what to say.”

Jae put down his fork. “Say you’ll take the meeting.”

“Is it here in Seoul?”

He shook his head. “It’s in LA.”

✨ next ~ 18 ~ you're seeing things, aren't you?

[lover4bts]

Dating jungkook would include

:recording him at the worst times

:if your older or younger than him kook will still treat you like a Nonna

:if your younger than him he likes when you call him oppa

:learning some of there dances

:thinking he was so cute before debut

:him making you go to the gym with him

:you don't have to work out he just wants you there with him

:chilling during his breaks

:going on tour with him

:stealing everything he owns

:watching the sunset

Imagine your gender and race

[btsimaginescafe]

Midnight (JJK)

Pairing: Jungkook x F!Reader

Type: Slight fluff, slight smut (later on), angst, vampire!Jungkook, prince!Jungkook

Word count: 311

Summary: You never wanted to become Jungkook's princess. The popular girl was meant to. Except, Jungkook only wants you and only you.

Prologue;

"They only come out at midnight. No one doesn't see them as people are scared of them" your teacher said. He was going on about vampires and how they always come out at the stroke of midnight.

"We know there's quite a lot of them. We also know it's the prince who does it'' your friend shrugged your arm, as she looked at you.

"What?"

"Do you think it's about prince Jungkook?" Your friend whispered to you. Rolling your eyes, you shrugged.

"Who knows. I'm not really bothered to be honest" you whispered back as your friend raised an eyebrow. You could feel eyes burning in the back of your head. You turned to see the most popular girl, looking at you. Fire in her eyes. You turned back round as the bell went.

"Remember to do your essay about vampires. It's due next week" your teacher said as everyone walked out the classroom. You and your friend went outside.

"What was all that about?"

"About what?"

"Saying you don't care about prince Jungkook" you sighed as you looked around to make sure no one was around.

"I've got to go to the ball. Prince Jungkook will be there. The only problem is, he might pick me to be his Princess"

"That's not so bad, is it?" Before you could say anything, someone said it.

"You don't even deserve to have the prince, only I can" you both turned to see the popular girl.

"You can have him"

"I can't. All he seems to want is you and you only. Why do you think he always goes to your house at midnight? In the end, you'll be his Princess. But you know that'll be me" she flipped her hair, walking back to her friends.

"What are you going to do?"

"Have a word with a certain prince about all of this"

[kitty-loves-bts]

SEXUAL TENSION

Jeon jungkook X Y/N

————————————————————————————————————————

pairing: best friend!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut but in two episodes this one is just very flirty !

Warnings: flirting, sexual tension?, begging kink ? (Idk If that exists) , teasing, jungkook and that’s pretty much it ! Tell me if I forgot something !

Summary: you’re best friends takes you to his studio for an ‘important’ reason and the song isn’t the only thing that is finished (if you know what I mean 😭)

A/N: hi This is my first story ever ! I know starting with a smut story is pretty bold for a start 😂 hope you enjoy this ! <3

——————————————————————

- episode one - next - the next button redirects to my account for the moment when i’ll post episode 2 it will go to the next episode

Today was you’re day off working in a music company where you’re a producer and jungkook forced you to come with him saying that ‘it was important’

i listened to this playlist while writing so if you wanna have the same vibe listen to it !

——————————————————————————————————

“Why did you even brought me here on my day off what’s even so important ”

“Y/n you know I can’t live without you, and nothing really I just didn’t want to be alone ” he lied

“ uf you annoy me by doing that all the time “ you sigh while he laughed slightly “But I’m glad you finally admit it I surely knew that you couldn’t live without me jungkook-ssi~”

“Aish you always know everything don’t you ?” He smirks but it fades after he thinks for a second “But alright I just have to finish some lyrics so if you just can-“

“No! This is my day off I’m not gonna be helping you create you’re oh so random song ! “

Jungkook walks over to you with his big doe eyes he makes when he want's someting from you

“Jungkook you’re not gonna have me doing it this time “

“Y/n-ssi please I’m begging please help me with it just one last time pleaseee “

“No” you say with a straight face even tho you want to melt at the way he looks at you

Jungkook sighed and stood there for a minute thinking he then looked you with a skirk that turns into a smile that looks pretty sarcastic in you're opinion

“What ?” You ask you’re best friends innocently

He was still staring at you and went on his knees

“Jungkook stop this plea-“

“-Noona y/n please I’m begging you please help me do this song it will be such a good song and I’m sure you know it “ he looks up and looks at you’re eyes

You’re cheeks heat up because of the eye contact and because he’s literally begging on his knees ? Logical you would say

“jungkook why wouldn’t you ask yoongi hyung? “

Still looking at you straight in you’re eyes “y/n noona he is not you”

“ oh Jungkook stop it “

His voice cracks “y/n please “

You sigh and extend you’re hand he takes it

“I’ll do it “

“YES Y/N” he takes you tightly in his arms “ thank you thank you you’re- “

You push him a bit away so he still has his arms around you but not you being smashed against his chest like you were

“At one condition Jungkook"

“ eh what is it again don’t tell me you want me to get you ramen !? “

You laugh thinking about last time he was begging again for you to go with him to his parents house when you again had a day off 😒

“Ooh okay two reasons than ! First reason get me ramen “ you say with a big smile because he signed with a smile too walking away to the desk where the digital work station is

“And secondly” he turns around looking at you “please never get on you’re knees again”

“ oh y/n-ssi you don’t like me being on my knees for you ?” He say that taking walking back towards you from his desk

You’re cheeks heat up and you look down not knowing what to say

“cat got you're tongue ? “ he says and you laugh silently at the phrase every parent says

“ I- don’t ugh just come grab ramen ! “

You look up seeing him already looking at you with that playful smirk you know so we’ll

“ aah so you don’t mind me going down on you “

“ what ?! No I - di- yo- you piece of shit shut you’re mouth “ you say looking away

He laughs loudly and starts to walk to the door turning to you “still didn’t decline my offer but alright come with me we’ll get you ramen “

You still don’t know what to say so like a child yo- “ meh I’m Jungkook still didn’t decline my offer blah blah “ you say while taking you’re bag hearing him laugh

“When you were 10 and didn’t know what to say just like now you did the same still such a kid “

You go towards him that is at the door that is open and push past him saying “ shut up “

He laughs and closes the door of his studio following you true the halls of the building walking behind you saying "what would my life be without you hm ? " than hugging you from behind that made you smile and blush you decide to 'forgive' him even tho you weren't mad

——————————————————————————————————

hello its me again i really hope you liked my story ! please leave a comment if you got tips or any requests i'll try to make more story's <3 have a good night or day

finished and posted 22:33 hours // 10:33 pm

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

irresistible, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook provokes you into fucking him. Just not before you finger-fuck his mouth in the middle of a kitchen that belongs to neither of you as a summer party rages outside.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; strangers-to-lovers; JK is a brat until he gets served punishment; intense D/s smut (fem reader, noona kink, spit kink, slight humiliation / degradation kink, choking, hair pulling, scratching / marking, denying him kisses, nipple play, dry humping, m-masturbation, cowgirl, semi-public sex, ball torture); non-idol!BTS – sub!Jungkook x noona, dom!reader

yeah, he has the double lip piercing, I like what I like, shush JK's appearance based on CK campaign and 'SEVEN' promo photos

--

now playing – irresistible by fall out boy

“Noona, I heard something very interesting.”

“And what is that?”

“I heard you punish bad boys.”

“Your point being?”

“Well, I can be a bad boy.”

“Hm, you are not going to provoke me into fucking you.”

“Do you wanna bet?”

-

He said, “Punish me if you think you can,” and you said, “I don’t need to.”

His eyebrow cocked.

You clarified.

“I will make you want punishment.”

Jeon Jungkook. Honestly, not your type. So handsome he seemed fake. Pretended not to care when he cared too much. Had a habit of taking car selfies with a certain lack of respect to them and spontaneously posting them on Instagram to farm thirst comments. You didn’t know about the last part until earlier this week. It was essential to the process, obtaining background research of the subject.

And now you were alone with him.

In a hotel room.

Sitting in a chair placed in front of the end of the bed, primly crossing your legs, contemplating if you were going to fuck the man in front of you. You studied the details of his face. Striking eyes. Tan skin that looked malleable and supple. You could tell he was wearing lip product. A balm to make them more appealing, glossier, a deeper pink. Mood, texture, color.

He had not one, but two silver lip rings on the right edge of his shapely lips.

Let’s start there.

Your own lips curved into a smirk and you lifted your hand.

Jungkook frowned at you, chiseled jaw and furrowed brows included. He was sitting with his legs partly open, hands laced behind his head like a reckless bad boy, acting as if he needed to be impressed. He had messy black hair past his eyebrows. The strands grazed above his lashes when dry and would cover his vision completely when damp. His prominent collarbones were visible under the low-cut, baggy black t-shirt. Black leather jacket was tossed aside, exposing the stark contrast of his heavily inked right arm and his equally defined bare left arm.

Your right hand raised and you placed your lips between your middle and index finger.

Opened your mouth.

Right away, you could see it.

Jeon Jungkook thought he was a lot of things, or at least tried to portray a certain image, but those big, dark brown eyes betrayed him every time.

Your flexible tongue traced a subtle v-shape between your fingers, almost, almost touching the skin, but not quite. Barely a millimeter away. Close enough to feel the heat of the warm muscle. You saw him pause. Falter. A crack in the glass. Your lashes lowering, expression demure other than your obscene mouth trapped the frame of your fingers. His stare fixated, lips parting, forgetting his confidence in this lewd display of juxtaposition. Lidded gaze, red lips, pink tongue. You licked the air between you and him, come hither.

His hands were falling, falling, slowly drifting down his sides.

“What…?”

His voice was a little too tight, a little too interested for someone trying to play it cool.

“W… What a-are you doing?” he breathed out.

You didn’t reply.

You just moved your fingers. Tucked down your index and pinky finger. Pressed the ring and middle side by side. Then your tongue slid out, jaw lowering, and you collected your two joined fingers into your waiting mouth, sliding them into the slick, glossy, perilous dark hole.

Jungkook sucked in a breath, his eyes widening.

You tilted your head, licking around your fingers. Circling around them. Slow. Thrust them in and out, letting the saliva drip down, down, closing your lips around them softly, your red lipstick being ruined, and now there was absolute quiet. Not even breathing. This was now an erotic silent film and you were the star, your eyes barely open but seeing everything, fucking your mouth in front of his face and observing Jungkook’s reaction. His body tense, trying to hide the tremors. His lips parted, trying to mask his staggered exhale. His legs adjusting to bunch up his loose, classic blue jeans, all so the crotch wasn’t pressed right against his body.

You smiled around your fingers, sinister and sly.

Pulled your fingers out of your mouth. Lingering down the right edge of your lips. Your fingernail grazed the full underside of your lower lip, ghosting your skin, down your chin and the curve of your neck, fanning your fingers over your collarbones. Careless smears of red across your skin, fading down to clear gleaming saliva over exposed throat.

Your wanton, sultry sigh invaded the air between you and him.

Jungkook stared at you, mesmerized by the view.

Like a moth getting trapped in the light by fixation.

“Hurt me,” he whispered.

So easy.

Or perhaps he had no idea that he said it, because he straightened a little, chewing on his lip and abruptly looking away. Silent but you could see how hard he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Shivers subsiding but oh-so-slowly, as if he wanted to savor their departure. Still, he was avoiding your attention. You reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out a spare tissue, wiping your hand and dabbing off your chin. His head jerked back at your action.

Jungkook frowned.

Disappointed.

Wanted more.

You got up from the chair and stood, looking down at him.

“I am leaving,” you announced.

He flinched as if slapped and then immediately scowled, hiding his startled surprise with veiled annoyance. “What? Why? I haven’t done anything!”

You folded the used tissue absentmindedly as you spoke. “True. And that’s why I’m leaving. You aren’t interested. You are simply trying to use me to get a good story. I wasn’t affected. She’s nothing special. Hmm, I appreciate the consideration,” you added in a dry tone that did not, in fact, appreciate the consideration. “But you can make up whatever story you want as I take my leave. Feel free to get creative. I won’t dispute you.”

Jungkook sprang up from the bed, seemingly seething. “What? No. That’s stupid. I don’t want that. I rented a hotel room just for this. For you. What, you think I’m not good enough for your talent or something like that?”

Pressing his buttons, one by one, was almost too simple.

“Oh, no. I’m sure you’re good at sex,” you hummed calmly.

An uneasy flicker across his face.

“I just think you’re not ready for what I’m about to do to you.”

His expression sharpened. Biting onto the challenge. You faced him as an equal rather than an overbearing presence. For now. You held eye contact as you breathed out. Gave instruction, gently.

“Be honest with me.”

Your hand darted out, hovering under his chin.

Almost, almost touching.

“Place your chin in my hand if you want to be honest with me, Jungkook.”

-

The stench of summer sex.

You drenched yourself in it and when you surfaced, you shook out your hair and went onto the next.

This was the game.

Just like the game you just played, leaving with an open white dress shirt over your red bikini top and tiny black shorts, sauntering away from the bedroom. The man in there needed to come down. Needed to bask in what had just transpired. Maybe simply needed to hide after you had ravaged him. You on top, your chest to his back and your lips whispering in his ear, do you like this, getting fucked with your friends outside, a dirty deviant, aren’t you, your fingernails down his spine, his words ringing in your ears, mark me, harder, please, harder, and yours huskily back, and what if someone accidentally sees these pretty scratches or is that what you want, you want your slutty side to be seen, don’t you, harder, sinking your teeth into the curve of that ass, tasting those hips and those open legs.

Speaking of legs.

The large floor-to-ceiling windows threw sunlight all over yours as you strode down the hallway, casting your black, shapely shadow over the wall. Outside, the pool was occupied with people. Laughing, drinking, playing around. You could hear the splash of water. Watch showering rainbow droplets spray all over the glistening bodies under the scorching sun.

Fun.

You stepped into the kitchen for a quick glass of water before you were about to make your exit. No need to apologize to the host. He knew what you were here for. Well, you were the reason he was currently a sweaty mess. Heh.

And then, Jeon Jungkook, striding into the kitchen to corner you with his silvery voice and sexy body.

“Noona, I heard something very interesting.”

Like you haven’t heard that shit before.

With the lingering taste of desperate kisses on your lips, you told Jeon Jungkook that you would not be provoked into fucking him.

“Do you wanna bet?”

You tilted your head at that. At him and his open white dress shirt exposing his muscular chest and black swim shorts slung low on his hips. At that cut v-line and visible abs. Showing off, but none of it wasn’t something you hadn’t seen before. You paused, stopping your observation on those eyes. Those black-brown irises shivered at your eye contact. Pupils dilating, darkening them. Ah. Alright. You played along.

“Stick out your tongue,” you instructed.

He made a face, and, after some hesitation, stuck out the pink tip of his tongue.

Obedient.

Interesting.

You raised your hand. Placed the pad of your middle finger on the tip of his tongue.

His eyes widened.

“You want it?” you asked him.

Those untainted eyes shimmered, brows furrowing.

You slid your finger down his throat.

“Let me check your gag reflex.”

And you pushed it down, down, down into warm wet tightness with absolutely no change in expression, watching Jungkook’s eyes widen into shock, his lips involuntarily closing around your finger, almost drawing back, but then you began to move, slowly thrusting into his mouth, lifting your other hand that was holding the glass of water so you could drink.

What?

Hydration was important.

A long, slow sip, casually fucking Jungkook’s mouth with your middle finger in the center of a large kitchen that wasn’t yours, in clear view of anyone who might walk in right now. He could jerk back, he could sputter and tell you that you were a freak, but Jungkook simply stood there, frozen, as you drank your water and stared into his eyes and violated him.

Calmly.

Rubbing the pad of your finger on his soft tongue, coating your finger in his spit.

He wasn’t your type. You liked them a little more honest. But maybe it was a front to keep the riff-raff away. Or something else. Hard to tell if worth exploring. You pulled your finger back slowly, tracing his lower lip. You noticed the small mole below, right at the center. Your nail lightly grazed the two silver rings at the right edge of his mouth, his warm breath on your glistening fingertips. He was a close friend of the one you fucked less than ten minutes ago.

Hm.

You handed him your half-full glass of water.

“I’ll get your number and then we shall make the arrangements. Don’t forget to drink water. It’s hot.”

And then you left him there.

-

Now, Jungkook placed his chin in your hand.

You felt the quiver of his breath. The nervousness. The vain attempt to swallow it all down.

“Look at me,” you commanded.

He did. Trying to shadow those large brown eyes with his lashes, hiding behind a raised brow and wayward strands of black hair, but the hard edge in that gaze eroded as your fingers caressed his jawline. Carefully. Softly. Gently stroking his neck, circling around the perimeter of his throat, turning your hand to place the tip of your middle finger on the mole underneath his parted lips, reminding Jungkook of that moment in the kitchen.

Oh.

He was reminded, all right.

He made a noise like a choked moan.

Then Jungkook tried to pull away, his ears bright red with embarrassment, but your wrist twisted. You sank your fingernails into his chin and dragged him back. A pained gasp and his eyes flooded. Shimmers of shame. At his sound? At himself for trying to run? Or at himself for liking it? Maybe all of them.

“I want you,” you murmured.

You could see your words from before haunting his thoughts, adding meaning to your rather simple declaration.

Be honest with me.

“Do you want me?”

I will make you want punishment.

He seemed to have forgotten his own words though, forgotten his doubt and the front he had been putting up all this time, simply letting his unfiltered emotion spill out in a whisper.

“Y-Yes, noona…”

You saw he wanted to say something more, so you waited, loosening your grip.

Stroked his cheek.

Coaxing.

“But… I’m afraid…” he breathed, on the edge of nearly not saying it. “What if I’m worse than all the others you’ve had? What if you hate it? What if you never want me again?” Shivering inhale, nervously licking at his lip piercings. “I want to be good enough. I want you to like me. But if you don’t like how I am as much as I like how you are…”

He closed his eyes, not wanting his own eyes to reveal everything.

“Sometimes I imagine you…”

His hand lifting. Tattooed fingers around your wrist.

“Hurting me, and I feel so good.”

His voice getting smaller, making you silently step forward.

“I thought that was so wrong, but then… I heard you… with them, behind those d-doors…”

You breathed in his exhale, watching his lips move. The desperate need entangled in his tone, eating away at the fear, holding you to him as much as you were holding him to you, and maybe this was wrong, feeling gratified at his unsatisfied desire but so be it, you let it happen, let him drag it out, let him fabricate his own pain, embarrassed and ashamed in his confession.

“It made everything worse, knowing that you could punish someone, and it wasn’t me. It drove me crazy, you flitting into bedrooms and slipping away with others, but not me. I want your venom in me. I need to be good so you’ll want me most. But I don’t have any experience in this kind of stuff… I don’t want it to be anyone but you. All those people and none of them were me, and remembering that over and over again made me act like a dick, and I was, I was addicted to you without you ever touching me, hurting and wanting to hurt. But I need it. I crave to be your carnage.”

His brows furrowed, hesitating.

“But if I told you… you’d think I’m crazy. Wanting you without ever having you. Feeling like I know you when I don’t know anything.”

Yes.

It was crazy.

How wonderful.

You turned your hand and choked him.

-

Inevitable? Maybe.

Ignorable? Of course.

Worth investigating?

Hm.

You flicked through the social media profile of Jeon Jungkook. Hah. You knew of him. Interacted on the shallowest of levels. Hard not to, considering the other profiles linked in his photos. You knew those other faces. Had tasted those lips – and more, heh – like savoring a glass of fine wine on dark nights. Playtime was the agreement, so that was how it stayed. Ah, but you didn’t want to play a silly game with an unskilled player. There was no challenge in that.

What are you hesitating for?

The shadow of your previous conversation dawdled in your mind. Your questions about Jeon Jungkook answered, along with his number obtained.

You could be his maker.

You smiled wryly as you did at the time of that conversation. What am I, a vampire?

An artist, was the reply.

Some people wanted to watch the world burn, but they didn’t want to hold the match. Instead, they handed it to you and dared you to strike it. How strange. How strange that they did not choose to burn themselves. How else could a phoenix be born? There was no rebirth without ashes, no light without dark, no heaven shining above without hell burning below.

Or maybe they simply liked the idea of you ruling this circle of hell called lust.

Hmmm.

You stared at his photos.

“There is art here, waiting.”

You decided to send Jeon Jungkook a text, asking for time and place.

-

His eyes flew open and there was just something so delicious about the shock in them.

You tightened your grip.

Yanked him forward. Just enough power to cause slowed blood flow. There were two types of choking your enjoyed. The first, the kind that applied pressure but no crescents of pain. And, the second, pressure accented with your nails turning inward, digging into soft flesh to mark what was yours. Jungkook received the first.

For now.

“You like pain?” you asked, placid and almost bored.

Black strands framed those sweet chocolate eyes tainted by the darkness of something deviant.

You ticked your head.

The faintest movement that screamed, hurry the fuck up and answer or I will let go.

He immediately started nodding, his chin pinching down to the pocket between your thumb and forefinger. The danger zone but he didn’t know it. And yet, so smooth, your free hand gliding up, sinking your fingers into the tousled waves of his black hair and pulling back. A breathless whimper drifting up towards you, helpless and contentment all that once, drawing a slow smirk from your lips, and you could feel it upon seeing this display of submission. The race of your heartbeat and the shot of adrenaline. Addiction at its finest. The familiar rush flooding your veins as you yanked Jungkook’s head back by his hair and dug your fingernails into his neck.

“O-Oh, fuuuuck…”

His eyelids fluttered. Hard thighs shaking under you, tense hands gripping the edge of the hotel bed, crumpling the duvet with his desperate want. You placed one knee on the bed and continued choking him, controlling the power to the pads of your fingers and less on your fingernails. Oh, you would leave a mark, but you weren’t specifically aiming to make him bleed. Maybe if he asked nicely. Arcing his head back further, lifting the elbow of your choking hand, looking down into those half-lidded, hazy brown eyes.

You smiled.

Then you spat onto his cheek.

Jungkook flinched strongly, not expecting the sudden splat of liquid onto his face, but you held him still, witnessing his full-body shudder and the moan leaking from his tight throat. You unflinchingly took the full brunt of his intense glare. Trying to burn you with indignation that he didn’t feel.

You leaned down.

And licked his face.

Cleaned off your own spit, tasting flesh and anticipation.

Delicious.

“I taste good on you,” you hummed, running your tongue over his jaw.

His breathing was shallowing and it wasn’t from the choking. Low whines creeping out between gasps, more and more pathetic as you licked all over his jaw, trailing kisses, placing one on that mole but missing his lips. Toyed with his earlobe instead, silver hoops cool on your tongue compared to the hotness of his skin. You could feel the tension in his body reaching breaking point, giving you only a few more moments before you needed to let go.

He attempted to weakly plead your name without honorifics.

You instantly released him.

Jungkook sputtered and coughed. Blood rocketed to his brain in an uncontrolled rush, and it nearly blinded him for a moment, his body veering sideways and his arms shooting up, clawing for something to hold, but your black boxy cropped jacket had been taken off already, leaving you in nothing but a black velvet bra top and matching tight miniskirt.

Strong hands grabbed your hips, dragging you down.

You stood firm.

The hand that had held his hair was still outstretched. Jungkook was coughing and blinking hard, disoriented and coasting on the high that was forced release. He could do nothing as you pushed his head back and cupped his cheek, turning his face so you could admire the dug-in crescents marring the side of his neck.

A different kind of moonlight.

This feeling.

The kind of feeling you could only get from destroying something untainted. Something so special about only encountering this once. Or...? There was something about those begging brown eyes struggling to watch you that made you want to question that. An innocence that seemed to linger even though he knew – or guessed he knew – what was coming.

You reached up and stroked a fingernail over the red marks, playing connect-the-pain-dots.

“Spread your legs.”

You said it softly and with a vicious edge.

Jungkook’s breath hitched and he obeyed, moving his knees away from each other.

You chuckled.

“Wider.”

There was a slight frown in the line of his brows but Jungkook did as he was told. Wider. You nudged his knee with yours, still holding his shaking chin with your hand, almost a gentle caress, and you pressed his thigh open until his erection was jammed into the zipper of his jeans. Discomfort shadowed his features, nose wrinkling, but you merely continued to regard him with a faint smile, reaching down with your free hand.

Took his left wrist and placed his own hand over his denim-covered hard-on.

You could see the protest bubbling in those brown orbs.

“Feel that?”

You curled his fingers around the crotch of his pants and molded his fingers to his trapped length.

“That’s how much you want to fuck me.”

It was one thing to say it yourself. Another for the one you were lusting after to point it out and make you feel it, make you stroke yourself through your clothes with their hand over your hand, and now that was Jungkook’s position, you doing just that while staring into his eyes, forcing him to tease himself under your command, only able to view you from the side as you held his head still, his black hair spilling over his cheek and forehead.

“N… Noona…”

You closed your fingers around his and made him grip the seam of his jeans, enclosing the thick fabric around the head of his cock. His shoulders buckled and he moaned, powerful legs threatening to close but you pinned his knee to the bed, driving in the point of pain, daring him to disobey.

You ticked your head.

Moved your thumb to stroke his trembling lower lip.

“What?”

Your tone was serene. Inside the rampant desire was tearing your calm façade apart, arousal and exhilaration building, finally feeling alive in this circumstance.

Those glistening dark eyes shifted, enamored by your power.

“P-Please…”

I will make you want punishment.

You knew. He knew. Those words now embedded in his mind, toying with him, dragging him into his dark fantasies that he couldn’t and didn’t want to share with others. You could see it in this eye contact. Him on his knees, holding the hem of his shirt in his teeth, wanting your tongue on him. Him with his hands above his head, taut inked skin and flexed muscles, exposing his chest to the mercy of your raking fingernails. Him sitting with his legs open, your teeth sinking into his hard thighs, clutching his balls in your grip and pre-cum dripping off the swollen head of his cock, leaking out and dripping, desperate to be buried in your throat.

You held your breath.

Just to heighten the high of what Jungkook was about to say in that silvery, quivering voice of his.

He shuddered.

“Punish me.”

-

“How do I know you won’t back out?”

How cute. Jeon Jungkook had called suddenly and barked this question at you. No hello, no how are you doing. Not even should I bring a snack. Instead, anxiousness hiding behind irate accusation. The I-definitely-don’t-care-but-I-do attitude.

“You don’t know,” you chuckled, letting your words caress his ears. Unintimidated by his fire, allowing it burn closer and surround you. “You just have to trust me.”

You could hear the heaviness of his breath.

“I can’t trust you,” he snapped, slipping into his Busan satoori in his fluster.

And yet you still want to keep me on the line.

“Too scared of the risk?”

And he could hear it in your voice, almost. A suggestion of adoration. On the edge, darling, but it wasn’t there. Only hinted at. You heard him suck in a breath. Tight. Maybe he had never thought of it, that possibility, until right now, until your tone of endearment that may or may not be there, but he couldn’t be sure and that was why he was taking so long to respond.

“I… I’m not scared. I just don’t wanna waste my time.”

“Oh, but I do.”

You hummed, sighing softly into the microphone, listening to Jungkook pause, holding his breath, spellbound by your tone.

“I want to waste my time on you. Spend long minutes with my hands in your hair, chest to chest, layers of clothes between us. Straddle your lap. So close but so far. My lips skimming your jaw, your throat, your collarbones. I want to say anything. I want to feel you. Breathe you. Consume the moment for every delectable bite it is. Press against you. Trap your waist between my thighs and feel you squirm against me. For me. You want it? Ask for it. I’ll deliver.”

He couldn’t see you, but you could feel your smirk widening as you spoke.

“You have my word.”

Waited a beat.

“Jungkook.”

Sweet like a lover, and then you hung up, cutting off the paradise.

Mmmm, you did love edging them.

-

Hovering.

You hovered above him and his shaking lips, his naked chest beneath you, and held his wrists. Not because you needed to hold him down. No, he was too trapped in his role to fight you. Didn’t want to, even. Tightened your grip. Lust rippled over his expression, slipping further into service. You deliberately avoided his hands. Kept your fingers constricted around tattoos and tendons and stared into his eyes. Dark brown irises polluted by the dilution of his pupils.

You breathed in.

Low and slow.

Feasting on the tension.

Lips barely a centimeter from his and those shiny silver lip rings. Close enough to cause the tremble, far enough to deny. Just enough distance for your exhale to be the secondhand smoke he desperately breathed in, already craving that nicotine.

You lowered your lashes.

Slid the middle finger of your left hand down, down his right forearm. Raking a line of hurt over black and color, deep enough to cause real pain but so slow, so slow that it made those round eyes shiver, his head flinching, and maybe it was involuntary or maybe it wasn’t, but you still denied him. The smirk stayed your eyes rather than on your lips, making the moment even more maddening. Frustration flashing in those expressive chocolate orbs, close to begging, but still too proud to break.

He was reaching impatience, so you took action.

You lifted your hand from his arm.

“Art…”

You whispered to those yet-to-be-devoured lips.

“Requires a certain cruelty.”

Then you pressed your palm to his mouth and slashed your fingernails over his bare chest.

Jungkook choked on his own yelp and you snuffed it back into his throat with your fingers clamping down on his cheeks. His hands shot up sharply, and you glared with malice, all five nails perched like a spider on his red, shaking pecs. A second of hesitation, and you let him remember what he said, punish me, the recall of subservience crumbling the surprise in his gaze.

He did not stop you.

You rewarded him with drenched tongue over white-hot pain.

The potent moan radiated from his flesh to your tongue and then into your head. Pierced with lust, with submission, with confusion, for he didn’t understand how it could hurt so much and yet feel so good. You scratched him again, lower, indenting his muscle and reddening the skin, not hiding your veracious fixation of the marred color, hungrily pressing the flat of your tongue onto it so you could feel the carnal elasticity and the heat of inflammation, oh how wonderful, raking your teeth over the tension, your lips smearing past, kissing his body before you even kissed him.

This.

Burning skin on tongue. He tasted clean, almost sweet. As if he prepared for you. You sank your teeth into his side, your fingers splayed out on his collarbones, ah, yes. Wet. His chest was damp from your spit. You sunk your middle finger into the base of his throat and Jungkook was gasping, choking, his trembling hand encircling your wrist but putting no pressure. Whimpers. He very badly wanted to touch you more, but he couldn’t guess how much you would allow and that fear alone heightened his lust. You pressed harder onto that spot between the bone, closing your eyes, letting his cries resonate sweetly in your ears.

This rawness of emotion.

This was beauty incarnate.

You relaxed all pressure on his throat and bit his nipple.

“Ah!”

You wrapped your hand around his neck and gripped harshly as your tongue toyed with the now-hard nub, finally lowering your body onto his clothed lower half. Right between his thighs, not your crotch but with your stomach against his bulging erection, grinding against it as you sucked, flicked, nipping at his nipples while casually and savagely choking him.

Looked up at him.

Condescendingly bored.

His hands scrambled for his neck, pulling at your fingers, but you only held on tighter, pushing the limit, and he was shaking his head, his black hair flying, those large eyes rolling in wild helplessness, glistening pink lips parted but making so sound, his feeble cry pinched in its now bloodless cage.

The silver lip rings gleamed in the light.

You ran your tongue over his chest, over red skin and trembling muscle.

Jungkook was getting harder under you. Throbbing, even in the jeans. You didn’t let go, keeping him in suspension of half-breath and half-death. That was because despite his showy performance of resistance, there was no power in his clawing fingers. The strength was in his hips, in his desperate, fervent rutting against your exposed midriff. You still hadn’t taken off your bra top or miniskirt. You let him keep going. Let him feel the velvet of your covered breasts against his hard, flexed abdomen. Let him thrive in the sensual agony. The rough friction was searing, but you did not move away, even pressing back against him.

His chest was tightening, strained scream rattling in his ribcage, trying to get off in vain, but there was too much fabric and not enough stimulation, aching pleasure fringed by the torturous pain of not enough.

You smiled.

“Don’t say you want it and not mean it,” you said, tone without inflection.

You lessened your grip just barely.

Bleeding oxygen flooding into his brain, and Jungkook moaned weakly, disoriented, his black hair sticking to his face, his lips, his cheeks, sweat and spit and tears, gasping, lashes fluttering, picturesque hands with those lovely fingers fanning out, stroking your inescapable grip on his neck. As if he savored the power locking him down. Needed it.

His silvery voice cracked like brilliant glass shards refracting rainbows as they fell.

“P… hah… Ple… Please, noona…”

There was a perverse satisfaction in watching him break.

“I… m-mean it, I w-want you, please… I can’t t-take this… I wa… want to feel you, please…”

You, too, savored his shattering demeanor.

Those large chocolate brown eyes up above pleading sweetly, urgently, watery.

Down below, you grinned with more than a touch of mania.

“Now that is what I want to see.”

You let go of his neck. His shudders travelled through your body as you slid down his, vibrations cutting all the way down to the very bone, sensing his fear and anticipation and that irresistible addiction building. The thrill of something new, something dangerous, something evolving into necessity as you looked into his eyes and Jungkook stared back, bitten pink lips parted in wonder as you slid between his thighs, serpentine, your predatory gaze reflected in his glassy irises. You did not hide your ravenous glee.

You could feel him getting more and more aroused knowing he had awoken something deep inside you.

You gripped the sides of his jeans and extended your tongue.

Threatening.

“N-No, wai–”

What happened next was simple. Almost too simple. But it was the performance that mattered. It was not just about removing his pants, but was about the deliberateness in your force while doing so. It was about your undivided attention directed right at him. It was about the slow, frame-by-frame pace. It was about the tightness of your grip and the harshness of your knuckles digging into his v-line as you slowly, tooth by tooth, dragged down the metal zipper of those classic blue jeans. You let him feel the nick of every tick of metal against his barely clothed erection. Centimeter by centimeter. Hooked your fingers under the waistband and let your fingernails catch on his hips. Jungkook whimpered, rising to his elbows, staring wide-eyed at you, not even realizing the disheveled state of himself. You slowly removed his jeans, tugging down, down, backing up, your sharp manicure periodically catching on his tense thighs, watching the gasp ripple up his red, flexed chest and escape from his throat. Sinful pleasure washing over his features once he realized he was enjoying it.

Perfect.

You let Jungkook watch your expression transform from faint amusement to rapturous satisfaction.

You backed up, tossing his jeans aside.

Knelt in front of his open legs and placed your hands on your lap.

Demure, one over the other.

You smirked.

“Show me.”

You ticked your head to the bulge in his black boxer briefs. Voice like poisoned honey, your words both a command and a dare. His cheeks burning red and there was the faintest tick of annoyance that you silenced with your sharpened gaze. Your smirk subtly morphed into something a little more sinister, a subliminal challenge in this smile. Maybe if he was in his right mind he could refuse, but there was too much adrenaline and too much anticipation.

The promise of payoff was so, so close.

Which was why you got to watch Jeon Jungkook strip his underwear off right in front of your eyes.

Your tongue traced your lower lip, wetting it.

He was now sitting at the very edge of the bed, thick thighs spread wide open, taut tension all over his muscles, and his swollen erection sticking out, the purple-red head leaking and angry, desperately seeking stimulation. And pain. Before he could drop his hand by his side again, you snatched it and stopped him.

Jungkook froze.

Visibly shivering at the contact of you holding his hand.

You stared into his eyes and brought his hand to his crotch, wrapping his fingers around his throbbing cock.

“Wha–”

You violently spat on the veined shaft, splattering saliva all over, and made him stroke himself, just like that. Immediate gasp, his hips bucking, and you spit on him again, slicker and wetter, forcing him to masturbate. He didn’t need much encouragement, already taking over the pace, harder, faster, and you let go, your fingertips running over his slippery knuckles, spreading your saliva all over. Looking up, seeing his black hair stuck to his forehead, his mouth open, shuddering, his moans deeper and lower now, more wanton, on the edge of depravity, not wanting to do it but needing to, too aroused to stop, too turned on to turn back, hyper-aware of the power saturated in this moment.

Jungkook was completely naked in front of your still clothed form, jacking himself off, and every time you spat on him, he whimpered, powerful hips jerking and rattling the hotel bed, the struggle flashing over his torn expression, to enjoy or be ashamed, but his lips were betraying him, more, please, his hand shaking as you made a mess of his thighs and cock, dripping spit, licking the inside of his open legs, his hand pausing with every one of your dramatic flairs.

Edging himself for you.

Your hands rested on his hard thighs, pushing them apart even more, glancing down at this lewd display but mostly observing his face, not letting him escape the pleasurable prison of your attention. You specifically did not verbally degrade him. It was not wanted and there was no need.

The silence itself was palpable humiliation.

His breathing shallowed.

Stuttered.

Chest tightening.

Close.

You leaned forward, hearing him hold his breath.

Suspension.

The harsh slap of hand to skin suddenly stopping.

Your hand clenched around his, abruptly cutting off his high. Squeezing through his grip. The violent throb of blood, and you staring into those large, glistening brown orbs, his rising sob dying in his dry throat. You rose instead, standing over him, keeping your hold around his strained hand. Even under dingy hotel lighting, his tan skin glittered with sweat, those prominent cheekbones framed by curled black strands, and, oh, those quivering flushed lips trying to choke out your name, a plea, anything, but he couldn’t, he just couldn’t, rendered mute by the deafening silence.

He was falling apart.

It was sublime.

Art was worth the pain.

You raised your other hand and cupped his chin.

“Jungkook,” you breathed, hazy and slow.

He moaned, thin and strung out on desperation, not caring about anything anymore, not knowing if there was an end. Ensnared by the moment. Possessed by compliance. You lowered your head. He obediently opened his lips, and his entire body shook uncontrollably, those lovely eyes rolling back into his head, hurriedly swallowing the stream of spit dripping from your tongue, the tips of your fingers caressing the slippery, pulsing, purple-red head of his cock locked in his grip, and now…

Now, the composition was perfect.

It was mere seconds, but at this point Jungkook didn’t have a good grasp on time anymore. Obscene whimpers, blown-out pupils, hardly registering the sound of the foil packaging ripping open, gasping as you tugged his hand away, his eyelashes fluttering as the ghost of your touch rolled down the condom, and then you hiked your skirt up, flicking down your panties.

They slid down your legs, the mere scrap of fabric soaked through.

Your grasped Jungkook’s right shoulder and now he finally seemed to realize what was happening, his eyes widening, but now it was too late, your heat right above the head, your other hand at the base, one knee on the bed.

“N… Noona…?”

You sank down onto his cock.

It was a slightly awkward position, but lust and adrenaline took over as you slowly, carefully bottomed out, not really for him, but for you to truly enjoy what was about to blossom, clenching around his girth and savoring the aching fullness, spying his pained expression from underneath your lashes. Tightened jaw as the wet sleeve choked him from below, and then the visible wave of ecstasy travelling through his body that manifested merely as a meek groan when you rocked your hips, dragging him into the constricting bliss, riding Jungkook on the edge of the hotel bed.

“W-Wai–oh, fuuuuck…”

You did not wait, hooking your leg over his thigh and leaning your knee against the mattress as you fucked him with some effort, but his body responded immediately, thrusting up and into you, and there it was, the flare within your core, intensity finally meeting matched intensity. Your breath stilling in your chest, leaning forward a little more, driving your hips forward, smack, there, fuck, yes, there, and you could see the angle was affecting Jungkook too, the muscles of his neck tense, lifting himself to his hands, and now he was really fucking you back, giving into the compulsion, hot gasp drifting over your neck, and you looked down to glassy brown eyes and shaking lips, those silver lip rings the inviting garnish, and still you resisted, slamming your hips down, slap, wet and tight and hungry for more, more of the thick cock, gripping his inked shoulder so hard that you were leaving even more marks.

Crescents of pain.

It was unbearably hot in the velvet bra top and your miniskirt bunched around your waist, but there was power in that discomfort. A visible inequality that fed the feral and the fervor, drowning you and him in this visceral, depraved lust, both hunting for the high, your hand rising and his hand rising, hips driven forward, harder.

Your hand around his neck.

His grasping your ass, dragging down and hitting you deeper, softly whimpering as you clenched around him.

“Fuck, yes.”

You exhaled hotly over his lips, letting your satisfaction bloom in the carnage of his pride.

“You…”

Bringing Jungkook’s face close to yours by his throat, losing your own breath with your ferocity, your words a husky rasp as you neared your crescendo.

“Inspire me.”

And then you kissed him.

Lips to inflamed lips, feeling the flash of sparks race all over your skin and burn your insides, faster, a bruising rhythm that Jungkook was leading, whining in your mouth as he came, his hips violently shaking, all the while pressing up against you, that strong hand splayed out over your lower back as he took your breath away. Your hand tightening, taking his blood away, and that was it, succumbing to the addictive power, tension snapping, radiating bliss racing through your veins, the brutal punch of orgasm leaving you airless, moaning deeply into his waiting mouth, your inner walls throbbing and viscous juices seeping down his balls, his thighs, sticking to your crotch.

The stench of summer sex soaked through the sheets, creating a large damp spot down the edge of the hotel bed.

You let go of Jungkook’s shoulder and held his trembling face, deepening the kiss and swallowing his raw whimpers. His pining sounds expanded and fluttered in your chest, so pure and so delicious, and more, you needed more, drunk on his taste, enslaved by this passion.

I’ve outdone myself this time.

You sighed into his mouth.

-

“I hate you.”

Surrounded by used condoms, electric air, and rumpled sheets half-pulled off the hotel bed, Jeon Jungkook gripped your wrist and told you he hated you, breathing hard, laying on his side. Both of you completely naked. You were sitting upright, delicately leaning against pillows and the headboard.

You smiled down at him.

“Oh?”

“W… Why are you… hah, why are you okay and I’m…”

His sweaty black hair was plastered to his forehead.

“Not?” you offered.

Across your body, you felt the bruises of his fingertips and soreness thrumming in your muscles. This network of pain simply curled into the blossom of the afterglow, creating the veining throughout the petals of this satisfying night.

Jungkook’s expression turned from irate to shattered.

You kept your smile but, behind it, hesitancy lurked.

Those dark glass eyes closed beneath you, but he held into your wrist, tattooed fingers squeezing hard.

Breath after breath. Ragged. Injured, but with pleasure. Satisfied, but some part wasn’t. You didn’t have to look into his eyes to know how he was feeling. Bowed, shaking shoulders. Body curling into the sheets, blanket tangled around his legs, the low light of the hotel room casting harsh shadows. He moved closer to you. Holding on for dear life. You could feel the uncontrollable tremors from his hot hand.

“Just…”

His voice so small, cracking under a weight unseen.

“J-Just… just pretend a little… longer…”

Your smile slipped away, like a shadow in the night.

“For me… noona…”

It is the performance that matters.

You looked down at the form of Jeon Jungkook and wondered if you could always be right.

“I’m not pretending,” you said to the flower that had blossomed in your carnage. You reached over and put your hand over his. “This is who I am.”

His fingers relaxed.

You paused.

You looked down again. At Jungkook burying his face into the sheets and the pillows, inhaling the heavy scent of sex that had transpired between you and him, burning it into his memory. Not too close to touch you, but close enough for you to feel the heat from his body, close enough so you couldn’t forget, and his hand was still on your wrist, tenderly caressing the inner tendon. It was a slightly rough touch. Unfamiliar.

For now.

What feeling are you trying to chase?

“Are you obsessed with me or what?” you chuckled, brushing the thought aside.

Stopped.

Jungkook was gazing at you from below. A singular dark brown orb, teary and reflective, the other masked by a tangle of black hair and the white hotel bedding. You had asked the question and the answer was wordless or, rather, simply in that stare alone. Bleeding desire. Helpless passion. Raw want.

You memorized his pained expression.

It was too beautiful not to.

“Would you let me be?”

It was both a rhetorical question and his answer.

Jeon Jungkook was supposed to be a fleeting moment. Supposed to be and, as you kept eye contact, you could feel the fire behind the glass. Some people wanted to watch the world burn, but they didn’t want to hold the match. His hand slipped out of yours and covered your fingers, grasping them tightly, possessively, intensely watching you, burning from your ignited match, burning and asking to be set on fire again, and again, and again, in dark nights and hazy afternoons and early mornings, and your skin prickled under the gaze of Jeon Jungkook, an expression that demanded to be set alight by your flames, for he had dreamed about it for so long and now it was real but you could potentially take it all away and he just wanted you to know…

He couldn’t live without the euphoria of this performance.

Your lips parted to refuse him.

And you couldn’t.

The seconds stretched into minutes. You could be his maker. Rebirthed from the ashes. An artist. You could tell that Jungkook thought very straightforwardly. He did not want to let go, so he didn’t. Simple. It was a pure feeling and it continued even after the first time.

Innocence.

The feeling I’m trying to chase? Ecstasy.

You smirked, sly laughter simmering in your lungs.

“You’re asking for trouble.”

-

“You’ll have to frame me up on your wall to keep me out of trouble.”

You grinned and shoved Jeon Jungkook into the wall, capturing his lips once more. The familiar press of two metal lip rings in this kiss, the familiar tension radiating from the hard muscle beneath you, the familiar impatient hands finding your ass, pushing up the short hem of your miniskirt and sinking into the soft curve. Time and time again, he showed up under you, dragging you to him, insatiable, craving, begging as if he had never had your pain before, shivering from every kiss, never having enough unless he was falling apart from your touch, all of him feeding the predatory compulsion that you had always tried to hide behind one-night stands and planned hit-and-runs.

All of your flaws aligning with this mood of his.

Jungkook slid down the wall, moaning, rolling his hips into your crotch, completely forgetting he was in somebody else’s house and supposed to be celebrating their birthday.

Thankfully, the music was blaring.

Your hand around his neck and you reached down. He was wearing tighter, black pleather pants today.

Ah, art and torture went hand-in-hand.

You gripped his balls through his pants and he whined in your face, trembling all over as his neglected erection strained above your hand. Lips locking, hot bodies pressed together in the semi-darkness, drinking in his thin exhale and his pleas, even reaching down to palm himself as you tortured his balls, squeezing and pulsing your knuckles around him.

“N-Noona, just f-fuck me, please,” was his breathless whimper into your mouth, lustful moans hitching as you choked him harder, and it was too delicious, too demanding, too beautiful was this graphic display of greedy desire.

Art.

How could you walk away?

“Irresistible, my darling,” you murmured to panicked breath, and you dragged him to you, tasting his smile as his tight white shirt was being tugged out of his pants below the entangled kiss, and he breathed you in, his free hand reaching up to your swimsuit top, scooping out your breasts as you controlled the blood flow to his head and undid the zipper with your other hand, peeling the pleather away.

You grabbed his balls, squeezing.

He gripped his hard cock.

Right.

On.

Cue.

He whined and you shoved the hem of his shirt into his mouth, making him bite down onto it and exposing his bare, muscular torso. Those pleas in those glassy brown orbs, long black hair disheveled and all over his face, and you grinned, the moment on fire, electricity racing over your skin as he toyed with your nipples and jacked himself off, him basking in your force and the addiction of being controlled. So picturesque, a work of art, and so you had to make it yours.

You couldn’t get enough of him.

You raked your nails over his ass and down his thigh and his eyes rolled back in his head, his muffled whisper between you and him, drifting in the dark.

“I love the way you hurt me.”

Music to your ears.

“Hurt me more, noona.”

Art required a certain cruelty, after all.

--

masterpost

[blublublujk]

nobody knows

mini-series

word count: 3k

genre: established relationship (hard dom x slutty sub)

pairing: hoseok x reader and jungkook x reader

summary:

the older tends to stay up a bit longer than you and he doesn’t know if he’s gone mad or if he genuinely smells a different scent on you, but he does. he knows that scent so well, but he knows he must be going crazy. jungkookie? that virgin couldn’t fuck a girl even if she was sent on a silver platter to him.  hoseok shakes the thoughts out of his head and pulls you in closer, his grip is so tight, almost as if he’s trying to prove his point. he’d be damned if his slut was being used by anyone else than him.  but just how much were you willing to get away with? 

warnings: [please read if you are sensitive] hard dom hoseok!!, slutty sub reader!!, hoseok is not nice ok but he isn't terrible i promise, hoseok is extremely possessive, cheating involved but you would too so, explicit sexual content: rough sex, filming during sex, blowjob, sexual thoughts, virgin jungkook, voyeurism, falls between lines of dubious consent, sexting, breast play, nipple piercings, if i missed anything fuck me

a.n: hi there, it's me wanting to start something super unrelated to what i had in mind, but i've been going thru it again so please be easy and patient with me. i'll be dedicating whatever time i have on this for right now since i don't have the mental for something super creative and too long, i'm not really sure where this will go, it’s more like word rambling with no direction just seeing where this leads me, but please lmk if you have anything you wanna see. everything is lowercase because this is just gonna be super sloppy from start to finish. im gonna have fun with this so i hope you do too. see you next time!

—> m.list

—> find me on ao3 & twt

--

hoseok records everything because why wouldn’t he? he records absolutely everything because he wants to look back at old times and remember how desperate you became while slurping his dick down. every time you would pull away he would shove you back down, forcing you to deep throat. hoseok would bring the phone right up to your face, flashing light and all so he could get a good image of how pretty and wet your eyelashes would get. “stick it out for me baby, show the camera how you get.” 

obviously, you listen (you’re the best sub) and hoseok loves it. he loves the cockslut you turn into, how dumb you get whenever his dick is pulled from his baggy jeans. begging for him to fill your pathetic hole. sometimes he makes sure you spend weeks without it so you reminisce about how delicious he felt shoving himself brutally into your tight walls.  

hoseok couldn’t wait to show all the members to brag about how disciplined his little subby angel was, watch their expressions fall as you took him like the good girl you were, mouth slack and moaning like a bitch in heat for him. 

and when jungkook starts begging for a turn because he’s never experienced that with anyone in his life. how could he anyways! he was practically forced into the industry at such a young age and didn’t have any time to explore himself sexually. he’s extremely frustrated and wants to experience sex just once in his life!

jungkook begged just once for it, but hoseok hyung was so mean! he would force the younger to watch while he took you from the back and fucked you drunk. jungkook couldn’t do anything, but watch and whine. he would grow desperate hearing you through walls and sometimes even finding your slick-cum filled panties all over the dorm. 

the more he begged the more hoseok pulled back and continued to tease him about it. jungkook thought maybe he could never have you, but for the live shows from time-to-time were enough and the videos hoseok would take after cumming all over your pretty ass, claiming his bitch once and for all. jungkook lives with that for now. he can’t have you, but that is close enough. 

at the same time, hoseok doesn’t think he will ever share you. no questions asked, he’s just too mean, extremely possessive of what is his. he doesn’t share and will never fucking share. for as long as he lives, you will live off his cock and be thankful for all he gives you. 

but hoseok is an extremely hard worker, spending too much time in his studio and hours on end in the practice room. 

fortunately for you, it’s just enough time for the tricks up your sleeve. 

it started off like this, you would wait until you were sure hoseok was gone and didn’t plan on returning home until late. sometimes, he spent nights in his studio, one could never know being on hoseok’s time. 

given that information, jungkook always came home earlier than everyone else, privileges of being the youngest of all members. it’s not at all that he wasn’t hard working, the others simply worked too much and too hard. jungkook was much more lenient about his time and always allowed himself to rest when it was needed. that being said, it was too easy. 

“jungkookie?” 

when he doesn’t reply, you assume he’s either one, showering, or two he’s dozed off. either way, that simply won’t do. 

“jungkookie?” this time you are louder, knocking three times at his door. 

jungkook opens his door, hair disheveled and sleepy wide-eyed. “noona?”

“ah, sorry. i need some help.” jungkook can’t help the way he practically eats you with his gaze, though he tries to hide it. you were in the shortest shorts he’s ever seen and a tank that squeezed your breasts together. that boy would drool over it, if it wasn’t basically forbidden. hoseok made himself very clear, what’s his is his. 

“what can i help you with noona?” sweet and as respectful as ever, jungkook smiles even after you awaken him from his slumber. 

“i wanted to watch a movie in the living room, but for some reason the tv doesn’t wanna turn on. can you help me fix it?” your tone is short of suggestive, but jungkook is as innocent as ever. 

“of course noona, joon hyung probably messed with it this weekend and never bothered fixing it. you know how it is, let me see what i can do.” living in a condo with seven other men usually meant you would constantly run through problems as such. of course by now, you were used to it and nothing ever really bothered you anymore. they were all really kind and respectful of you, regardless of everything they have seen (hoseok really loves to show off what’s his and doesn’t give a damn what anybody thinks, you were perfect for him). whatever you needed or wanted, you would have it. all you had to do was open your mouth and any of the guys would run to the rescue. 

“thank you jungkookie, noona’s sorry for always bothering you.” you really aren’t. 

“nonsense noona! i’ll always do what i can to help you.” jungkook bends down to assess the tv more properly, and for a minute, he actually struggles finding the source of the problem. while he’s turned around, you shove your tank down, making sure your tits nearly hang out of the fabric, just enough to entice him, but he continued his search not bothering to turn back around. 

“jungkookie—” 

“a-ha! found the issue noona, the tv was just unplugged. joon hyung must have forgotten to replug it. all fixed!” jungkook turns back around, proud smile on his face.

“ah! silly me. i must have not noticed.” except for you did because twenty minutes ago, you unplugged it yourself to do exactly what you were about to do next. “well, i’ll let you rest now. don’t mind me. noona will be here watching a movie if you need anything. unless… you want to watch with me? noona’s very lonely these days.”

“what will you be watching?” the younger’s eyes narrow as if contemplating his answer. 

“iron man?” it comes off as a question, although somewhere along the lines you recall jungkook clearly expressing his love for the superhero. you couldn’t be too far off. 

his face immediately lights up. bingo. 

“of course, i’ll watch with you! i’ll be right back, let me bring some popcorn!” with that, he leaves you behind and you make yourself comfortable. thank god jungkook was so clueless, he had yet to even notice your questionable choice of clothing. you were practically selling yourself bare. his eyes dropped from time-to-time, but jungkook was super respectful. at least, he tried to be. 

“didn’t know if you preferred skittles or reeses pieces, but i brought both.” jungkook hands them off, soft smile on his face, his bangs nearly covering his eyes. 

“thank you jungkookie, make yourself comfortable!”

by his own means of comfortability, he plops himself at a very respectful distance from you, too respectful even and it frustrates you a bit, for now you settle that at least you've gotten this far. 

the movie starts off a bit slow for your liking, but jungkook seems to be enchanted by the damn film from the start, not once does he take his eyes off the stupid screen. mouth stuffed with fluffy popcorn as he sips on some soda. 

“want some?” he gestures at the bowl of popcorn and you quickly shake your head. jungkook turns his attention back to the screen and continues watching the movie happily. 

“it’s chilly no?” you say after some minutes, he doesn’t seem to notice you get a bit closer. stalking him like some predator. it’s really not chilly at all, but even if you were, your choice of clothing is not very helpful. 

jungkook pauses and shakes his head. “not really, i’ll bring you a blanket though!”

curse him for being so sweet and cute. at this rate, you’ll get nowhere and it’s frustrating as fuck. 

“here you go, noona. need anything else?” jungkook lays the blanket over you, covering you up entirely. for fuck sake, does he not get the hint. your outfit is practically useless now! 

“no, that’s all for now. thank you, kookie.” the boy melts away, he adores when he hears that nickname from his noona. one thing was for sure, hoseok was extremely lucky. 

the movie carries on and you almost fall asleep midway. from time-to-time, you hear a few audible reactions coming from jungkook. a few gasps here and there as if he hasn’t watched this movie ten thousand other times and you aren’t sure if your vision has gotten worse or if you saw jungkook tear up, he was quick to shake his tears away so you both go on acting as if nothing happened. 

your phone buzzes at some point in the movie and it could only be one other person. 

daddy: send nudes

me: can’t rn

daddy: why not? 

me: watching a movie

daddy: alone?

me: maybe :)

Well, it’s not like you were lying! what he doesn’t know won't kill him. 

daddy: behave baby, wouldn’t want me to tie you to the bedpost while i’m gone 

hoseok has threatened multiple times to do it and although he’s never done it outside of sex, it’s worrisome the way it turns you on. what you would do for a man to want you that much. 

hoseok has made it beyond clear, the members are completely off limits. you just can’t help yourself. 

me: daddy’s so mean :( 

daddy: yeah, the worst.  now do what i asked of you

me: yes daddy

“gonna use the restroom. need something?” jungkook watches as you walk away and quickly shakes his head no. although you can’t see him, you can feel a heavy gaze lingering as you leave the room. shame he doesn’t act on his lust and arousal, but what more can one expect from a nerdy virgin. 

with a couple flicks of your juicy tits, you send them over straight away with a simple kiss emoji and make your way back in no time. 

jungkook doesn’t even notice your presence until you clear your throat. he smiles at you before he turns his attention back. 

daddy: fuck look at you wanna bite those nipples off 

me: come do it i’m so horny daddy

daddy: yeah?  i’ll fuck it out of you this weekend

me: that’s too long, i want it now

daddy: that’s too bad isn’t it? 

me: why are you so mean :( 

daddy: i gotta go, behave  and don't play with yourself you know i don’t like my shit used 

though you are tempted to send the rolling eyes emoji, you hold it in for your sake, you prefer to keep your pussy intact, thank you very much. hoseok is strictly against pleasing yourself while he’s gone and you understand why to some degree. 

it’s like edging, the sex is just ten times better. you both are more horny, your pussy is much tighter— wetter. you're much needier, desperate even. he does it all for good reason, but what can he do about the fact that you just need a little more. maybe you truly are the slut he says you are and you are about to get what you need, one way or another. someone is bound to give it to you. men are dogs either way. 

you throw your phone aside and attempt to watch the movie again, cuddling yourself, though you much rather be bare and bouncing on dick. we can’t have everything in life, sadly. 

“kookie, noona’s still cold.” you say with one last attempt at this. if he really doesn’t break this time, what else can you fucking do. you’ve already thrown yourself bare and he barely moved. 

“oh? should i get another—” jungkook’s words die at his throat when he feels you lay on his chest, your ass sits on his thigh and he nearly chokes on spit. “n-noona.”

“this will work just fine jungkookie, thank you.” 

if hoseok knew the reality of the situation, he would kill you. that itself accelerates you more than anything. 

jungkook is a bit awkward at first, but he eventually comes through and starts getting comfortable himself, even going as far as laying a hand on your back. 

for a few minutes it stays like that, a bit too quiet for your liking, but you could hear his calming breaths as they leave his body. he smells so fresh, a bit of lavender detergent. god, you want to rip him out of his clothes and show him a good time, if only he let you or much better asked you. 

“noona, something is stabbing me. sorry can you?” 

with a confused expression, you pull off and his eyes land on the exact issue. you almost fail to hide the smile creeping its way on your face. 

“oh! sorry, that’s my nipple piercings.” 

jungkook immediately goes red and starts coughing. “oh! no sorry it’s okay, yeah i’m sorry.” 

“have you ever seen nipple piercings in person kookie?” 

jungkook just shakes his head, cheeks still burning pink. “i know jimin-hyung has them, but he doesn’t show them off like that.” 

oh? that was news to you. you’re intrigued, but for now you handle what is in front of you. 

“ah, wanna see?” 

jungkook’s eyes almost fall out of his head. “w-what about hoseok-hyung?” 

“it’s not like we are doing anything wrong? i can just show you quickly, you know, for scientific purposes.” please let this work, you were on your last chance. 

“o-okay.” jackpot. 

you start by lowering one strap and jungkook’s breath hitches as he watches very closely as more skin becomes uncovered. carefully, you pull at both straps until they have fallen and your tits bounce deliciously as they drop from your flimsy tank. 

jungkook stopped breathing seconds ago, without thinking he pokes at the rod of steel, big-eyes curious and full of stars. “is that?”

“bunnies.” you smile at him sweetly. “they’re little bunnies, just like you.” 

without another word said, jungkook clears his throat and turns red. “i- i’m sorry. i shouldn't have touched.” 

you shrug. “it’s okay, i didn’t mind.” 

“does it hurt?” the younger asks while still not being able to take his eyes off. iron man be gone. 

“no, not at all. you can touch, if you want.” 

jungkook seems to contemplate it for a few seconds before his hand covers yours, holding the perfect mounds of flesh in his palms. he thumbs your piercings in awe, he didn’t even know those types of piercings existed. 

for a few seconds, he does just that. he caresses your soft bare skin, barely putting any pressure as he squeezes them. he’s definitely getting a bit handsy and carried away, but who are you to call his attention. plus you don’t mind one bit, in fact this is exactly what you wanted and you got it. 

it ends as soon as it starts. jungkook lets go of your breasts and shyly looks away. he allows for you to tuck them back inside before he looks back over. “t-thank you, noona.”

“of course.” any time is stuck in your throat, but you bite your tongue and instead watch the movie like you both are supposed to be doing. 

the movie resumes as if nothing happened and it eventually ends. you can’t even be disappointed because you got farther than you thought you would have, but tonight you’ll sleep a bit more comfortably. 

“thank you for watching with me jungkookie, see you tomorrow. goodnight.” just as jungkook is about to reply, he feels a soft kiss on his cheek and he freezes once more. the younger’s face instantly flushes and it takes him so long to form words together. jungkook doesn’t believe his luck or is this his punishment? maybe he’s going insane. 

“goodnight.” he breathes out before you slip out of his hands and into your room. a room you share with his hoseok-hyung, god if he ever knew, he would kill you both. 

jungkook sleeps with one eye open that night, feeling guilty and a bit ashamed. he doesn’t even jerk off like he normally does, tossing and turning all fucking night. it’s not his fault, is it? he doesn’t know what he was doing anyways. he’s a total loser and he feels like one. 

in another room, you aren’t even sure what time hoseok makes it back home, but you do feel the instant he roughly pulls you against his body. flush end against his front, he’s super cold from being out so late so you feel yourself shiver in his hold. you aren’t sure if you are shivering because of that or because you’re scared he’ll smell jungkook’s calming scent all over you. who are you kidding though, he won’t. you’ll be fine and it’s definitely all in your head, that’s what you get for trying your luck. 

hoseok remains quiet as he takes a huge whiff of your hair and kisses down your throat gently. his hand is heavy on your stomach, rubbing circles. 

“daddy?” 

“go back to sleep baby.” hoseok’s voice is deep and firm as he whispers and that eases you back to sleep. 

the older tends to stay up a bit longer than you and he doesn’t know if he’s gone mad or if he genuinely smells a different scent on you, but he does. he knows that scent so well, but he knows he must be going crazy. jungkookie? that virgin couldn’t fuck a girl even if she was sent on a silver platter to him. 

hoseok shakes the thoughts out of his head and pulls you in closer, his grip is so tight, almost as if he’s trying to prove his point. he’d be damned if his slut was being used by anyone else than him. 

but just how much were you willing to get away with? 

[violetsiren90]

Blame Me: Chapter 1 | Jungkook/Reader

Pairing: artist!freespirit!Jungkook/noona!f!Reader

Genre: Best friend's younger brother; slow burn; friends to lovers; eventual romance; eventual smut; neighbors/childhood friends au; forbidden(ish) love; summer love.

Summary: Upon returning to your hometown after breaking off your engagement to your boyfriend of three years, you reconnect with your childhood bestfriend as you attempt to put the pieces of your life back togethe r. It seems like nothing has changed in the sleepy little town until your bestie's younger brother returns home from college - very, very grown. As the summer stretches on, the stakes get higher - can you play with fire without getting burned, or have you ignited a flame that won't be extinguished?

Chapter Warnings: All my fics are 18+ (minors, dni); allusions to an unhappy home environment/neglect; descriptive scenes of shared meals (the characters will eat together a lot in this fic, as it is part of a family dynamic); mentions of promiscuity made in jest; the accidentally-in-bed-together trope; brief panic attack symptoms; MC has some issues with guilt and feeling like a burden

Updates: When I can! Life has been crazy lately.

Author's note: This is so incredibly late in coming, and I really struggled with it for whatever reason (the initial inspo was there and then it just wasn't coming) but I am still excited to tell this story and thank you in advance to anyone who takes the time to read it!

*Inspired by "Blame Me" by Monsta X 💕

In case no one has told you yet today, you are loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️ 💜

Tag list: @papijiminfeed @oopscoop @violeata @fancycollectormoon @fandomtales @booboobutt @jlee97 @lifeless-firefly @lovemepie67 @shaybtsforever @woomyteez @smutbangtan @raiu54288

If you want to be added to the tag list, comment or send me an ask to let me know!

You watched the shiny white Tesla that had been your Uber grow smaller and smaller down the long shady stretch of Tiger Lily Lane. You stood on the sidewalk, behind you the warm asphalt of the road and long shadows of the tall, sprawling elms, and before you your childhood home. It was a little grey house with a blue door and white trim, kitchen windows like jovial eyes, curved at the top, staring out over a lawn overrun with crabgrass and lined with bushes of pale pink roses that grew flush with the unpainted picket fence. The porch swing was beginning to show signs of rust, but the two little hanging pots of azaleas that flanked it on either side were blooming and bright. The windows and flowers seemed to loudly stare out into the street,  assuring neighbors and passersby of a happy home, but you knew better. 

You shifted your duffel bag on your shoulder and sighed. You weren't ready to go in. The house into which your family had moved when you were in the third grade had never really been a home to you. In fact, it had been a place you had left. By choice. Granted you had paid the occasional visit, by choice. Because visits were temporary. This wasn't a visit - and the moment you walked through those doors, you would be shutting forever a chapter of your life in which, as stormy as it had been in recent days, had rescued you from the one before it.

An ugly feeling that had been brewing in the pit of your stomach since the pilot had announced that your plane was starting its decent was making itself well known as you stood outside the gate of house number 9195.

A voice snapped you out of your nauseated reverie, and as you turned to see its owner, new feelings washed over you. Better ones. In the lawn of 9197 Tiger Lily Lane stood a pretty, slim young woman with a sharply cut, silky black bob. Her catlike dark eyes were bright and intense, her face bare but lovely, and her clothes simple but strikingly presentable.

    "Y/n!" she called again, her arms extended with open palms in a gesture of embrace and inquisition.

    "Jiah!" you shouted, dropping your duffel with a thud and jogging into the ungated yard where she stood.

    No sooner were you within arm's reach than she pulled you into a tight hug, swaying you from side to side as she pressed out of you, along with all the air in your lungs, a muffled laugh. Suddenly grasping you by the shoulders, she jerked you back so she could look at you. You grabbed her arms to steady yourself, continuing to gasp out bursts of laughter as you protested.

"Jiah, hold on! Woah! I'm gonna fall!"

    "Who cares about that! I haven't seen you since...oh my god, since the summer we finished undergrad, I think? How are you? Are you going to be in town for a few days?"

You looked back over your shoulder to where two bulging suitcases stood beside your abandoned duffel, then back to Jiah's inquisitive gaze.

    "It's gonna be more than a few days, Ji."

    She squeezed your shoulder as she cocked her head to the side.

    "Wait, are you moving back?"

    You mustered a weary, uncertain smile.

    "Surprise!" you offered weakly. Her smile faded, lips drawing into a pensive purse.

    "You haven't even been in there yet, have you?" she asked gravely, her eyes searching yours, hand still on your shoulder. You shook your head, lowering your gaze groundward. She sighed.

    "Alright, c'mon," she said suddenly, marching toward your pile of luggage.

    She grabbed the duffel and tossed it at you, wheeling the other two bags up the driveway behind her.

    "You're coming with me for now. We have some catching up to do."

You didn't protest as you followed her over the threshold of the Jeon household for the first time in a long while.

    Linen. Every house has its very own unique scent - one that draws you into its aura, for good or ill, and wraps you in all of the memories and feelings it has afforded you; it can take you back to a moment in time, and who you were in that moment, unmistakable and fleeting - a smoke ring of a portal to a previous reality. Jiah's house smelled like linen. And lilacs? Something floral, but even more delicate.

You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes as you stood just inside the door. The sick feeling in your stomach began to shrink. Every muscle in your body began to soften. You could hear the laughter of years ago. You could feel the bubbly schoolgirl giddiness of slumber parties under forts of sheets. Movie nights with cartons of takeout. Summer afternoons laying in the grass and tossing lazy wishes up at puffy white clouds. 

    "Y/n? Have you even been listening to me?"

You opened your eyes and blinked at Jiah, who was standing in front of you with two bottles of grapefruit IPA and a look of mild annoyance.

    "Sorry," you offered with a sheepish smile, slipping off your shoes, and traded the duffel in your right hand for one of the beers in answer to the question you had missed.

You followed her into the living room and plopped down next to her on a pretty white couch you didn't recognize, taking a long, wheaty swig from your bottle. She folded her legs up under herself and turned toward you, fixing you with earnest, expectant eyes. You raised an eyebrow quizzically.

    "Well, aren't you gonna tell me?" she pressed.

You smiled to yourself. Always so direct, Jeon Jiah. Even with half a decade stretching between this moment and the last you spent together, things were the very same. You were the Libra - the dramatic, messy one. The one with a heart full of dreams and a head in the clouds. She was the Capricorn with the strong sense of direction and the practical perspective. You always seemed to be in a quandary and she never failed to have a hard take on the situation. You sighed, taking another long sip of beer.

    "Have we really talked at all since freshman year of undergrad?" Jiah shook her head.

    While you had fought like hell to get out of Bellpond - even if it meant chasing your father's dreams of law school instead of your own - Jiah, who desperately wanted to join you in New York, had set aside her own longings to attend a local college while helping the family store survive the recession. Telling her the truth of what happened was going to be painful. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, trying to transcend the assumption that what you were about to say would let her down.

    "It was a guy, wasn't it?"

You shot wide eyes up at her, mouth agape at her sudden interjection. 

"What?" she pressed with a shrug as she sipped her own beverage,

"That's always what it is with you."

    You blinked, trying to form some sort of protest while failing to find any evidence in memory to counter her claims. You settled for a rueful smile and a huff. 

    "I guess I always have had pretty terrible taste in men," you conceded.

    "Pretty terrible?" she pushed, her face pinching into a comically overt censoriousness. "It's like your number one turn-on is red flags!"

    "Hey!" you rebutted, launching yourself at her shoulder in a playful shove, and sloshing her beer in the process.

You froze in panic as she glanced down at her dampened cardigan, and then at you.

    "Oh, shit! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

You jumped up and backed away, holding your hands outstretched in front of you as she stood up and slowly and menacingly advanced toward you. 

    "This is my favorite sweater," she hissed in a whisper.

    "Jiah, I didn't mean too, I'm sorry!" you whined, manic laughter punctuating your words as you backed around the coffee table.

    "It has lady bugs on the bottom," she hissed again, eyes narrowing as she raised the right hem to gesticulate at the embroidered insects in question.

    "And they're very cute," you placated, hands still raised in self defense. "Look, I said I was - Aaahh!!"

    She lunged at you mid-sentence, and you shrieked, tripping over your own feet in an attempt to flee and you toppled, one after the other, in a heap on the plush carpet. Before you could find out if your friend was in fact as strong as she had been in high school, the front door swung open and a familiar voice filled the room.

    "Jeon Jiah, get up off the floor and help your imo with all these damn groceries! I had to - AHHHH!"

    You looked up at the figure in the door as she let out a high-pitched squeal of delight. She was a petite bombshell of a woman in her early fifties, who, had you not known otherwise, you wouldn't have pegged for a day over forty. Bright and expertly executed makeup adorned her features - softer and rounder than Jiah's. Her permed dark hair was pulled up in a colorful bohemian wrap, and she wore compression pants, neon orange Nike's, and a crop top with a print of Joan Jett flipping the bird. She had dropped the bags of citrus and apples she had been carrying, sending the fruits rolling across the floor.

    "Aebeolle!" She shrieked, running forward, and bending down to pull you up by your armpits into a half-stand so she could crush you in a hug. 

    "Rosie!" You propped yourself up on your knees so that you could wrap your arms around the tiny woman's middle.

    Imo to her niece and nephew, she was Rosie to everyone else. While Jiah's mother had been the responsible one, staying out of trouble, and working in the family store after school, Rosie had been the wild child. Smart as a whip but with no patience for the system, Rosie had dropped out of high school at seventeen and jumped on a tour bus the following summer as the groupie of a grunge band. She hadn't looked back until Christmas Eve of 1999, when her whole world was shattered by a phone call.

She had taken the next flight back to the hometown she had promised to never set foot in again so that by Christmas morning she could have her niece and nephew in wrapped her arms. She left behind her life in the fast lane to take over running the Jeon's store and raise her sister's kids in their family home. 

She had been there for you, too. On those nights you climbed out of your window, a backpack slung over your shoulder stuffed with clothes and a toothbrush, to tap softly on their front door. On the following mornings she had filled your stomach with warm, hearty dakjuk and fluffy slices of milk bread, and let you watch cartoons as she worked out the knots clinging to your neglected hair. She offered the warmest hugs, the softest words of direction, and the loudest cheers of praise. She had always called you "aebeolle" which was Korean for "caterpillar", and she had always given you the nurture you needed to survive. If she hadn't, you weren't sure where you would have come by it.

    "What are you doing here? You finally paying us a visit?" she asked, clapping her hands to your cheeks.

    "She was about to tell me about how some guy wrecked her life. Again."

Jiah interjected, earning herself a smack on the shoulder.

    "Jiah, you brat!" Rosie chided, as she helped you to your feet.

She glanced up at you through fake lashes.

"You really do have the worst taste in men, though."

    You sighed in defeat.

    "Ugh, you two," you blustered, "Where is Jungkook when I need backup?"

    "Headed this way, for the summer, actually," Rosie remarked as she collected the fruit strewn across the floor.

    "So he decided to slum it, huh?" Jiah huffed, "I thought he was going to Ontario, or wherever the heck that last girl he met at that festival was from."

    Rosie shrugged, shaking her head with a smile.

    "I've lost track," she chuckled.

    You blinked.

    "Wait, wait, wait...are we talking about the same person?" You asked, holding a hand up in disbelief. "Jungkook. Your little brother. Tiny. Shy as hell. Looks like the weight of his head is gonna topple him over. Bunny rabbit teeth....is a lady's man?"

    "Well, not strictly," Rosie hummed, hoisting a bag of produce onto the counter. "His sophomore year in Paris there was that one guy...what was his name?"

    "Taehyung," Jiah offered, shedding her sweater and draining her beer.

    "Right, right," Rosie nodded. "I liked him. Too bad."

    Your mouth hung open. Jiah wrinkled her nose.

    "You're gonna catch flies that way," she remarked sardonically. 

    "I...I just cannot believe what I'm hearing. Jungkook. In my mind he will forever be the tiny gremlin I have to keep bailing out of trouble."

    Rosie smiled. Jiah scoffed.

    "Well, he's still a gremlin, if you ask me," she sniffed, chucking the beer bottles in the recycling bin.

    "When does he get back?" You asked.

Rosie shook her head as she divided the groceries between the cupboards and the fridge.

    "He's on his bike so, barring any unexpected stops - which are definitely not out of the picture - he should be here in the next couple of days. Probably by the weekend."

    You nodded, still trying to wrap your head around the newly acquired image of you and Jiah's childhood tag-a-long. Rosie approached you with a picture pulled up on her phone.

    "Look at him," she said with a smile, sliding the device into your hand.

    You blinked at the picture on the screen. There he stood - much taller than you remembered - a girl under each arm, filling out a pair of ripped jeans, a black tank, and an ascot. A fringe brushed the tops of his eyes, while the top half of his dark waves were bound back in a little bun. His right arm was covered in tattoos. He was grinning from ear to ear, with that same toothy smile you had committed to memory.

   "That's just crazy," you murmured, shaking your head, before handing Rosie's phone back to her. 

    "He's going to be thrilled to see you. I think he has a lot of happy memories from when you three were kids just banging around town together," Rosie remarked as she continued to sort the groceries.

    You smiled to yourself. You certainly did. You glanced at your bags by the door.

    "I guess I should get going," you murmured without conviction.

    "Not yet, not until I've fed you," Rosie responded, not skipping a beat as she began to pile the ingredients for bibimbap on the kitchen island.

You smiled to yourself. Rosie to the rescue, as always.

    "Okay, if you're gonna twist my arm," you sighed dramatically as you pulled up a stool on the other side of the kitchen island, followed by Jiah who grabbed the carrots and a peeler.

    You reached for a huge zucchini squash and knife. Jiah shot you some side-eye.

    "You're not getting out of telling us about the big debacle, you know. Time to 'fess up."

    "Yep, spill," Rosie concurred as she prepped the rice cooker.

    You heaved another sigh. Might as well get it over with, you thought. But for some reason, the words stuck in your throat, unable to come out. You looked at your hands, shaking as they tried to steady the knife over the squash. You couldn't do this. Not right now. Not yet.

    You let the knife clatter to the cutting board and scrubbed your hands over your face. 

    "Y/n?" Jiah asked, leaning over to look at you, "Are you okay?"

    You drew your hands from your face and looked up at her with tired eyes. She and Rosie had traded their teasing glances for expressions of concern. You gripped the edge of the counter to stop your stupid hands from trembling.

    "It's really not a fun story, you guys," you said slowly, trying your best to sound casual, "You're not missing out."

    Rosie reached over the kitchen island to clasp your hands.

    "No worries, aebeolle. We can talk about it some other time. For now, just stick to slicing up this zucchini and forget about that other one!"

    She shot you a wink as she cracked open a tupperware of marinated beef.

    "Imo! My god!" Jiah protested with a grimace as you and Rosie burst into a fit of giggles.

    It was all laughter and shots of soju and teasing Jiah about being a prude until you were gathered around the table with steaming bowls of goodness in front of you. Rosie closed her eyes and threw up rock-on signs with both hands.

    "May Stevie Nicks bless this food," she murmured before snapping up her chopsticks to snag a mandu and pop it into her mouth.

    You took a heaping bite of bibimbap, your whole body relaxing as the flavors and warmth returned you to a simpler time. Another wave of nostalgia washed over you as images of three little hungry kids fighting over the last piece of fried chicken replaced the scene before you. Your eyes wandered to the empty chair beside Rosie. There was a missing piece in the picture of comfort you had always found in the Jeon residence - a missing piece in the shape of round head bearing a pair of giant doe eyes that would light up when he'd win and water-up when he'd lose, and little short legs that ran faster than the longer ones, and a bright smile that was all innocence and central incisors.

You smiled fondly as long-dormant memories continued to appear like little spring flowers of the mind. Jungkook had perfectly completed your little trio, because though Jiah was your best friend, you and he had always understood each other in a way that came so easily. You didn't mind that everything brought him to tears, or that he invested himself so earnestly in even the smallest of his joys. You also didn't find it annoying that he wanted to tag along with the big kids, or that he hated being called a baby despite practically demanding to be treated as one. You knew in a way Jiah would only later realize that he was caught between wanting to grow up too quickly and not at all. It was the same battle between longings that waged war in your own heart, along with so many others who in some way had to raise themselves.

    "How's the oi muchim?" Rosie's question roused you from your reverie.

    "Amazing, like everything," you answered, waving your chopsticks over the spread of banchan.

    "I made it a little spicier this time," the older woman said, sampling the cucumbers again herself. "Trying to get these staples just right before the new place opens."

    "New place? Another store?" You asked, helping yourself to more sukju namul. 

    Rosie's eyes shone, a proud smile tugging at her lips as she gave her answer.

    "A restaurant, actually."

    Your jaw dropped.

    "You're finally doing it!?"

    Rosie leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, nodding at her niece.

    "It's all Jiah's doing. She's taking care of all the logistics, I'm just figuring out the menu."

    "Well, if you need help, I'm in between gigs at the moment," you added eagerly.

    Rosie clapped her hands and wiggled in her chair.

    "We would love the help! We've only just started hiring some staff. So far there's one person to wait tables and someone running the kitchen."

    Jiah let out a huff. You quirked an eyebrow in her direction, and she appraised you with a look of wistful discouragement.

    "Too bad you can't cook, or I'd boot him out tomorrow."

    "Who?"

    "The chef," she sneered.

    "Speaking of, Jiah-ie," Rosie remarked over the food in her cheek, "How is Seokjin doing these days?"

The older woman chewed back a poorly concealed smirk as she glanced up at her niece, whose lips curled scornfully.

    "One day, I'll kill him, I swear," she grumbled, shoveling rice into her mouth as if she was punishing it with every bite.

You glanced over at your friend, then at Rosie, who wiggled her eyebrows as she took a sip from her glass.

    "Seokjin...not Kim Seokjin?" you asked. 

    "Yeeeeep," Jiah affirmed bitterly.

    "He's a cook?"

    Rosie nodded.

    "And darn good at it. The only thing he's better at is pissing off this one right here," she remarked with a smirk as she gestured toward her glowering niece.

  You smiled to yourself as Jiah started off on what would likely be a lengthy rant at the young man's expense. Seokjin, or Jin, as he was more commonly known, had attended the same small high school as you and Jiah. In a body of four-hundred students, everyone had played a well-known role - and while she had been the straight-laced valedictorian, he was the class clown. Natural enemies who found the other beyond comprehension, the bulk of the ire had always been on Jiah's side, while Jin had seemed to find her as amusing as he did inexplicable. The concept of the two of them attempting to run a business together was the stuff of sitcoms.

His ongoing feud with Jiah notwithstanding, it didn't really surprise you that he had tucked himself into the Jeons' life. His father owned most of the agricultural land in the surrounding area, and with his older brother having been slated since birth to take over the family empire, Jin had enjoyed a freedom of direction that found him often seeking out the phenomenon of being needed...and people always needed a laugh. But laughter is momentary, and Rosie, having the heart for strays that she did, always provided something more permanent.

    "So now we're probably going to have to keep Jungkook at the store, because you know how they get when they're together," Jiah tiraded on.

    "They don't get along anymore?" you asked, a bit crestfallen at the thought. 

    "The opposite," Rosie chuckled, "You put them in the same room and those dorks turn into a couple of puppies. They broke the back screen door roughhousing last Chuseok. Plowed right through it."

    You snickered at the thought.

    "But Jungkook is darn well gonna contribute while he's here," your friend asserted as she stood to clear the table, still on her agenda about the restaurant launch, "Not just cruise around finding pretty people to sketch between make-out sessions."

    Rosie waved a hand dismissively.

    "He's always willing to pitch in. But it's summer, and he's young, so don't you go all drill sergeant on him." 

     Jiah scoffed.

    "Sure, it's summer, but there's a lot to get done between now and opening, and -"

    "AND," Rosie interrupted, "I expect you to have some fun as well, young lady! Especially now that Y/n is back. You two better do a decent amount of carousing."

    "Carousing?" Jiah asked with a grimace, directing horrified eyes in your direction.

    You let out another laugh.

    "She's got a point, Rosie. I don't think anyone has caroused in quite some time."

    Rosie rolled her eyes, crossing to the sink and running the tap.

    "Well," she rejoined, undeterred, "Whatever it is they're calling it these days, you two better be doing plenty of it! Give your imo some fun to live through vicariously, why don't you?"

    Jiah shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest.

    "And, you," she said, pointing a sudsy wooden spoon in your direction, "Should just stay here for the night. Take Jungkook's room. Then you can rest and be ready for...you know. Tomorrow."

    You accepted the invitation with very little hesitation. It was a relief, and Rosie knew. She had always known. You shot a text to excuse your absence that you doubted was actually necessary and lugged your things down the hall and into the last bedroom on the left.

    The rest of the night was spent stuffed onto the little couch with bowls of ice cream while the three of you shrieked and slapped each other's arms and kick your feet watching reruns of The Golden Girls. It was nearly midnight by the time you slipped under the sheets of the full-sized mattress in the smallest bedroom.

    Though your eyes were heavy with exhaustion, you couldn't help but glance around at the walls and shelves, filled with scented candles, and action figures, Polaroids, and an incredible number of charcoal and graphite sketches. There were drawings of buildings, trees, cars, and people. And though there was little variation in color, the vitality and emotion that sparked along each line drew you from piece to piece. Your eyes drifted over a particular drawing - a girl's lower face - the tip of a nose, lips slightly parted, and her chin tilting upward. It might have been the delirium of your tired mind, but something about it seemed familiar. You stretched for a recollection just out of reach as you slipped past memory and into slumber.

    Weight. The first thing you registered as your mind began to again become aware of its physical trappings was a heaviness. At first your hazy consciousness likened it to blankets, then to the heaviness of a sleep without dreams...safety...security...

    And then something brushed the skin of your stomach under your shirt, drawing a hum out of you as your eyes fluttered open, and what they saw had you frozen in place. An arm. A large, muscular arm covered in dark ink was snaked around your waist, hand slipped under the hem of your sleep tee.

    Fight or flight mode suddenly triggered, you snapped up and pushed yourself away from the body attached to the limb, letting out a shout as you kicked your legs, and only catching a glimpse of dark hair and grey sweatpants as the intruder rolled off the bed and hit the carpet with a loud thud. You jumped off the other side of the bed before you could think, tangling your legs in sheets that brought you tumbling down onto your ass. Before you could thrash free of the bedding, a groaning figure peered with large, dark eyes from the other side of the bed. Dark, wild waves framing his sleepy head like a halo, and wide, round eyes still bleary with sleep, the young man passed tattooed hand over his mouth to wipe the remnants of drool away as he blinked at you from across the room.

    "J...Jungkook?!" you choked out in surprise and confusion, struggling to your feet.

    "You kicked me..." he groaned, his features taking on an injured look as he stooped to rub his thigh.

    "Why...when..."

    "Imo told me to wake you up for breakfast," he pouted.

You scrubbed your hands over your eyes. Same damn baby-faced expression. Huge, bulky man. With tattoos...and a lip ring? This Pokémon had leveled up. Maybe twice. And that was all your brain could register as your heart rate descended from two hundred beats per minute and the heavy fog of an interrupted sleep cycle began to dissipate. You tossed the sheet back onto the bed, and as your eyes flicked back to his face you noticed his had dropped a little lower. Registering with horror that you were in a thin cotton nightshirt with nothing underneath, you snatched up the sheet again, clutching it to your chest. What the fuck was happening?

    "Rosie told you to wake me up, so you decided to spoon me?" You asked incredulously as your embarrassment quickly morphed into agitation.

    Jungkook's eyes widened as they flew up to yours, seemingly caught off guard by the edge in your tone.

    "No, noona...it wasn't like that!" he said, standing to his full height, his brow creasing defensively.

    He was pretty fucking tall. His white tee and grey sweats did little to hide the fact that he was also pretty fucking big. Exasperated by these unbidden acknowledgements that had your brain buffering, you snapped a little again.

    "Then what was it like? You had your hand up my shirt, Kook!" 

    Your voice had unintentionally softened at his nickname, and he caught it, biting back a grin as you hugged the sheet over you just a little more snugly. 

    "It was kind of your fault, noona," he smirked, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. 

    You shot him a quizzical and unamused look.

    "I came in here to wake you up and you pulled me into bed. You kept calling me someone else's name...and..." he giggled, "'Baby', and you kept insisting we sleep for just five more minutes."

    You gaped at him in horror.

     "You pulled my arm over you," he continued, now a bit smugly, "And I had literally just woken up, so...being so comfy...well, I guess I fell back to sleep with you."

    You could feel the heat in your face. You had a history of pretty intense sleep talking, but you hadn't experienced it to that extent in years. You considered that you must have slept deeply as you stammered your apology.

    "Oh my god, Jungkook...I'm so sorry - that's horrifying - I didn't mean to..." 

    The younger man just laughed in response, breaking into his signature luminous smile. His eyes glimmered.

    "Didn't mean to steal my bed, demand cuddles, and then beat the heck out of me?"

    You let out a sigh.

    "Sorry."

He nodded, a little smile still tugging at his lips.

    "I accept your apology for the bruises...but not the cuddles. Those were nice."

    He threw a wink over his shoulder as he headed for the door, and you tossed a pillow and a string of expletives after him as he jogged, giggling, toward the kitchen. Still flustered and a bit thrown, you changed into real clothes before joining the others in the breakfast table. Rosie was placing mayak eggs alongside the piles of bacon and pancakes as you pulled out a chair next to Jiah.

    "You slept well! You must have been exhausted," Rosie remarked, handing you a mug of coffee.

    "Yeah, must have," Jungkook quipped with a smirk as he snagged three strips of bacon.

    You shot him a warning look as you stabbed demonstratively into a stack of pancakes, but his grin only deepened.

    "I thought you weren't supposed to be back until the weekend," you addressed him coolly.

    "Mm," he took a sip of orange juice. "I actually wasn't really supposed to be back until next week. I expected to head north to see a friend but she ended up being out of town, so I just came straight back."

    "A friend, huh?" Jiah crooned patronizingly, as she twirled a fork in his direction.

    Her brother nodded.

    "The same one you were talking to on the phone very loudly when you came in last night?"          

Jungkook scrunched his nose, sticking out the tip of his tongue in her direction.

    "Wow," she drawled, "How very adult of you. And for the record, friends don't call each other 'baby'."

    Jungkook snickered, glancing at you again before he mumbled, "Some friends do..."

    "So, Jiah - " you practically shouted, as you turned toward her in a desperate bid to change the topic of conversation, "You gonna show me the new place today, or what?"

    "The restaurant? If you let her drag you out there, she'll put you to work and you'll never be seen again," Jungkook hummed over an entire egg that he had pocketed in his cheek, casting teasing eyes up at his sister, who smiled back wickedly.

    "You know, Kookie, it's just so good to have you home! We needed someone who puts in those gym hours to do a bit of the heavy lifting." 

    Jungkook flashed another smile, puffing his chest and massaging his pectorals as Jiah feigned a gag.

    You chuckled, and Jungkook grinned as he tucked into his pancakes.

    Watching the two of them bicker and catch up, you realized that things felt a bit more whole again - familiar, if different. You considered that maybe the three of you could all fall back into stride. Maybe this summer wouldn't be so bad after all.

    After breakfast you gathered your things to head next door. You tried to slip out quietly, to avoid Rosie stalling you any further, but Jungkook caught you as he was coming around from the garage, an oil towel in his grease-stained hands.

    "You leaving?" he asked with a tinge of disappointment.

    "I can't over-stay my welcome," you shrugged, smiling wryly.

    His face took on a serious expression.

    "You know you're always welcome here, yeah? It's good to have you back," he pressed earnestly.

    You nodded, touched because you knew he meant it and that the other two members of his family shared the same sentiment. Jungkook wiped his hands on the towel casting a look over at the house next door. 

    "You staying there?"

    You nodded. His brow creased and the corners of his mouth turned down.

    "Okay. You can come here whenever."

    "I know," you said softly.

    His eyes looked worried and uncertain. You dropped your bag and pulled him into a hug. 

    "It's so good to see you again, Jungkook-ah," you murmured, dropping your head against his chest.

    His arms squeezed around you in return. He had always preferred to talk with his body instead of his words. Every playful punch, or little shove, or squeeze of his hand carried a message. This one meant it was good to see you too.

    As you waved goodbye you counted the Jeons' welcome among your blessings - not everything you had left behind would be so welcome to recall. But, life hadn't left you with many choices. So you began the long walk to the house next door.

-End Chapter 1-

[lolabangtan]

STAY | 15

Back at the dorms, Jungkook misses you madly. Hate, heartbreak, and longing mix in his heart. In public, though, he’s still cold and hurtful towards you – until he discovers who’s his new roommate.

index • previous • next

Word count: 9k

Warnings: smut, dub-con fantasy, attempted infidelity.

# angst, delirious masturbation (?), clumsy anal fingering, noona + mommy kink, Jungkook is kind of messed up in this one (but who’s to blame for that except me lol), scent kink, cum play, crying, awkward hyung-junior bonding!!

A/N: thanks to Generic Club Girl 1 for starring in this chapter.

“I will issue a restraining order if you keep doing this.”

It’s too early in the morning to put up with Kim Seokjin and his antics. You haven’t even finished your first coffee and here he is, standing in front of your door like a moron. Or a creep.

“Come on,” he says, still adamant, “I’ll give you a ride. Or maybe it’s better if your boyfriend doesn’t see us together?”

His words fuel you, and you frown; why should you refrain from seeing anyone? It’s his problem if Jungkook prefers to be petty and not talk to you. In fact, it’s on him if he’s got a problem with you talking to any guy at all. Especially when he’s not willing to talk things out with you.

You groan and go back in to collect your things. “Ugh, okay, let’s go. I’m late anyways, and I don’t have my car yet.” Keys swinging around your finger, you finally beckon Seokjin to follow you down the stairs. “How have you been doing these days since you came back? Do you already have a place to stay?”

“Yeah, I’m moving into the dorms. Namjoon is great and all, but… I don’t wanna feel like I’m taking up space in their tiny flat.”

You roll your eyes. “He’d never think that.”

Like the gentleman he is, he opens the car door for you, and despite your grimace, you get in.

“It won’t be long, just until I find a proper flat that doesn’t stink,” he says, taking the driver’s seat, and smirks. “I think it’ll be fun in the meantime.”

“I’m already sorry for the poor freshman who’ll have to put up with you.”

“Speaking of freshmen…” You close your eyes and throw back your head, already tired of his unfinished question. “You have a class with him today, don’t you? You’ll see him for the first time since last week.”

Ah, it’s been a week already? Felt like a year… Seven days since you last talked to Jungkook, seven days since that awful phone call in which you were called out for doing something you don’t know yet. They never told you. Seven days without seeing him, without hearing his voice, without feeling his warm skin or making him smile. The thought alone makes your heart throb in pain inside your chest.

If only you were not so mad at him to miss him – then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much.

“You’ll work it out, you just need to talk things through with him,” Seokjin suddenly says, snapping you out of your thoughts.

But you’d have to get near him in the first place to do that.

And you have yet to figure out how Seokjin might fit into your life, or, for now, whether it is in your best interest to even let him in in the first place. Even though things have been patched up, you still feel a simmering resentment for him inside you; he can’t just show up and ask you to forget about the pain he made you go through in the name of friendship.

“You look different.”

His voice makes you turn your head away from the window. “Hm? I didn’t do anything, though.”

“Not physically, uh…” Seokjin purses his lips. “You feel different. Like, older, in a way – but I guess that’s what happens when time passes.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” you chuckle, frowning in confusion.

But Seokjin’s eyes look softer as they stay glued to the road. For a second you get it – he feels different too, older. Time passes for everyone, even if you are the only one who seems unable to grow out of your shelf of youth. Unable to mature and break through its naivety. Unable to do like everyone else and turn your pain into wisdom instead of letting it turn into resentment.

“You really think so?” you murmur with a hopeful rise in your voice. “Lately I feel like a tall child, crying and fussing about everything.”

He glances at you. “You’re the strongest person I know.”

“You must know very few people.”

“Maybe.”

“When did you know it was time to break up with her?” you suddenly ask, leaning back in the seat.

“Uh… It’s a gut feeling? Like, you start seeing signs that you’ve grown apart. I realised I didn’t care anymore, not in the way I should care about my girlfriend, anyways,” Seokjin explains while you stare at him.

His words make you ponder; you don’t feel yourself growing apart from Jungkook, if anything, you feel closer than ever. He’s just going through something, and you’ve probably hurt his feelings. This is all a misunderstanding, that’s it. You care about him in ways you never thought you’d care about anyone – you would live inside his brain and under his skin if you could.

The car pulls into the pavilion’s car park with a swift turn, and you collect your backpack from your feet.

“Just ignore everything I said earlier, you’re not old,” Seokjin jokes, closing the car door. “It’s just that I’ve had a lot on my mind lately too; we old people think a lot.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You shrug it off and say goodbye before he can even blink, not wanting anyone to see you together. Not that it’s a bad thing, but you’d rather avoid giving people something to nibble on. They have an imagination strong enough to come up with unsubstantiated gossip, they don’t need that kind of help.

The halls are as busy as always, lousy Mondays; people running up and down, beams of sunlight coming from the tall windows. It’s first thing in the morning and everyone wants to talk about their weekend.

Except you, maybe – you did absolutely nothing besides binge-watching a show and ignoring Seokjin’s texts.

Okay, here we go.

The words resonate in your head as you mentally prepare yourself to face the recently begun day when someone goes down the stairs behind you. They bump your shoulder on their way down, and you realise in shock that it’s Jungkook; Ari and Jimin are with him, and the former nudges him on the side at his rude gesture towards you. The pitiful look on her face is enough to make you want to throw up and bawl your eyes out.

Maybe this is your chance? Maybe he was trying to catch your attention somehow?

You follow him down the step. “Hey, Jungkook—”

“Let’s just sit there,” he mumbles, not even looking at you, and turns to Ari. “Noona, can you make room for me?”

With a sigh, your friend nods and scoots to the seat on her left so that Jungkook can squeeze in between them. Now the row is full, and there are pretty much no seats left except those in the front row.

At the sight, Soobin rushes to abandon his friends and sits down right in front of the professor’s desk. Jungkook watches the whole thing in silence.

“You never sit at the front,” he says when you take the chair next to him.

Does he think you’re blind—?

Oh, but you’re too tired to fight, so you nod in silence. “I guess I was feeling proactive today.” You suddenly close the book in front of you and turn to him. “So, what’s up? Neither do you.”

“I didn’t want you to sit alone… Everything cool with your boyfriend?” he asks, careful – enough to let you know that there is some gossip going around. “He looks mad pissed. Did you fight—? Sorry, it’s probably none of my business.”

“We didn’t fight,” you reply, “I just want to focus, hence my sitting here. Cool?”

“Cool…”

The class starts shortly afterwards and goes on smoothly. You manage to take notes without letting Soobin distract you too much with his chatter, though the feeling of Jungkook’s gaze burning into the back of your head is far more noticeable than anything else. You don’t know if he enjoyed your little show with Soobin, but you’re pretty sure the kid’s in need of some tough love to learn about boundaries.

When it’s time for lunch, the professor dismisses his class, and everyone leaves the classroom either chatting or with their eyes glued to their mobile phones. You collect your things before Soobin does anything and flee up the steps.

“It was kind of sad, seeing you sitting all alone.” You turn around at the sound of Jungkook’s voice. You roll your eyes by instinct. “Guess you had it coming.”

You scan him head to toe; whatever the reason for the sudden attitude, this pseudo-bad guy thing doesn’t suit him at all. It’s almost embarrassing to watch, honestly, and you want your Jungkook back. Unfortunately, this Jungkook here doesn’t seem really willing to talk things out.

And, unfortunately, you’ve built back up your walls pretty easily, even with him.

“And what did you want me to do instead? Crawl back to the friends that lied to my face because I had no one else to talk to?”

The arrogance disappears from his face and is soon replaced by a slight blush of embarrassment. With a snort, you step forward to take his arm, but Jungkook frowns in pain and shakes off your weak grip.

“Don’t touch me,” he whimpers.

He looks so handsome today, you notice as your eyes are unable to move away from his face; he looks so precious, and you miss him so much. Your heart shrinks in your chest, but you can’t stop looking at him. Your eyes are hungry for him, willing to nourish all the yearning your hands and lips can’t satisfy.

“B— Jungkook,” you groan, his name nothing but a plea, “what is wrong with you? Can you just tell me what’s going on?”

Your words only seem to fuel his irritation. “You know what you did. Don’t come to me until you are ready to answer for it— hyung, noona, let’s go, I’m hungry.”

If looks could kill, Ari’s would certainly do nothing. She’s the last one to turn around and follow Jungkook out of the lecture hall, her eyes lingering with sadness on your face. Maybe she knows something, maybe she feels that there’s something off about this conflict he’s made up. Ari knows you better than anyone in this world, after all – only after Jungkook… or not.

“Jungkook, you haven’t touched your food.”

Yeah, he knows. He knows he’s been staring at the tray ever since they got sat at the table. Jimin had proposed to eat out, but he didn’t want to go anywhere he’s ever been with you before— and even if it’s not like you’ve never been together in the university cafeteria, it hasn’t happened many times. Works for him.

Jungkook plays with the slices of pork, still silent and ignoring Taehyung’s voice, his dull face resting on the open palm of his hand.

“Hey, we can’t take three hours for lunch,” Ari suddenly barks. “Sort it out with your girlfriend or eat.”

He lowers his head. “Noona is not my girlfriend anymore.”

“She actually is,” Taehyung mutters; “you haven’t broken up yet, have you?”

The air feels awkward and silent, a cloud of tiredness heavy on their shoulders. Suddenly, the clinking sound of cutlery dropping on the tray gets their attention.

Jungkook groans loudly and shoves a spoonful of plain rice into his mouth in anger. “Uh, you’re supposed to be on my side, you know?” he then garbles with his mouth full, provoking grossed-out grimaces.

“Uh, we never took your side?” Jimin lets out a confused laugh and crosses his arms. “Never took hers, either. Friends don’t take sides.”

“Then why are you here?”

They share a look before Ari says, “Well, Y/N won’t talk to us, and it’s obvious you’re not okay.”

“So—” Jungkook straightens up in the chair out of pure shock. “You think what she did was right? Is noona the one giving you the cold shoulder? I’m—! Oh God, she was— this is so awful of you, guys.”

“Sorry, can you tune me in? I don’t see what the problem is now,” Jimin groans, his – and everyone’s – tray already empty. They seem no longer phased by the youngest’s fuss.

Ari frowns, totally baffled, and blurts out, “When did we say Y/N did nothing wrong—? Look, Kookie, I think you need to take the rest of the day off, you’re not okay…” Her boyfriend glances at her as if she was talking to a kid. “Take a nap, drink water, meditate, I don’t know… I know it seems like the end of the world, but you just have to, uh, process your feelings, okay?”

He hasn’t cried since the very day it happened. That night, he bawled his eyes out on their couch, weeping and calling for you as he curled up against Jimin. Jungkook can still remember the way his eyes burned the next morning.

Just picturing you with him makes him want to throw up.

With a dry goodbye, Jungkook gets up and decides to follow his friend’s advice. Soon, he ends up in front of the door of his dorm room; he moved in a few days after falling out with you. The dorm supervisor had called a month or so ago saying that he was accepted back in, under the obvious condition of not getting into a fight with anyone – Soobin or not – ever again. Of course, the choice between staying with you and sharing a filthy room with a stranger was clear.

Now it isn’t. At least, for the moment, Jungkook is alone in the room until further notice.

The room is dark when he walks in, closing the door carefully – Jungkook can’t risk the supervisor, who already has enough of a grudge against him, deciding to throw him out. This time he will have nowhere to go.

It’s not until he turns on the light and draws the curtains that he notices the half-empty box on the other bed. Does this mean that his days of sleeping alone are over?  Jungkook isn’t sure if he has the patience to share a room, but it all depends on what kind of roommate he’ll get. Oh, he’s bad at socialising. Nothing makes him more uncomfortable.

Curiosity gets the best of him, and Jungkook ends up walking up to the neatly made bed; there are some records, books, and figurines peeking out of the box. He can recognise a few.

Maybe having a new roommate won’t be that bad.

Now that he thinks of it, he left so much stuff behind after moving back into the dorms. Everything should still be in his room, or well, in the room you used to share. You’re not the crazy kind of ex who burns things— are you?

Ex.

“Fuck.”

It won’t do him any good to keep thinking about you. For the time being, Jungkook should better focus on the club and get through the rest of the year. His parents won’t stop asking him about his freshman year at uni, so he needs good things to say. Especially if they start asking about the nice girl they met at the swimming tournament.

Jungkook wishes he could take the bus instead of his car, but he can’t bring his things back on the bus – being spotted is the last thing he wants because he knows any of your neighbours will start asking questions. ‘Oh, Y/N, where is that handsome boy?’ ‘Did you two fall out? What a pity!’ ‘Ah, so you dumped him. He wasn’t that handsome anyways.’ They will ask you, and you will say that you dumped him for an older guy who probably has all his shit together and can last more than five minutes.

He pulls into the car park after a short ride. Just like he predicted, the lot is empty, so your shiny new boyfriend hasn’t picked you up from work yet.

Sadly, the anger has started to fade into sadness. It gets harder every day not to miss you, not to wonder if there’s anything he could have done to keep you by his side. Should he have listened to you more? Should he have pleased you better, should he have tried harder to become a boyfriend you would not be ashamed of? Or did Jungkook never have a real chance to be with you?

The flat welcomes him with complete silence when he walks in.

After mindlessly standing in the middle of the hall for a solid minute, he finally begins to discern all the sounds he has become familiar with – the soft rumble of traffic, the muffled horns, and the chirping birds. The neighbour’s television can be heard through the wall.

How could Jungkook let himself get attached so foolishly to a place? Why did he allow his heart to feel at peace here?

If only he could go back in time and keep all his hatred inside. Letting go of it, letting it turn into wise, healing love was a mistake. Now all he has is the choking feeling that he’s missing half his heart.

Shaking his head, he realises he doesn’t really have much time to play around, so he goes to his room and unfolds the boxes. The only things he has left to take are useless decorations or outerwear that he won’t need until winter, but it’s best to get it done now. And, as he imagined, it doesn’t take more than fifteen minutes to empty his drawers.

He can’t find his black boots, though. And he loves those boots.

They can only be in your room. Yes, he remembers taking them out to clean them, as summer is coming to an end, so he would most likely have put them back in your wardrobe.

After rummaging around the room, Jungkook finally finds the pair of boots under your bed. He sits on the mattress, staring at them. Suddenly he feels exhausted – as if his body lacks strength; it’s been a week since he last slept in this bed, that morning when he woke up next to you.

That morning when everything still had meaning, when you were still with him.

Just gonna close my eyes for a second, Jungkook tells himself as he lies down on the bed. The blankets hug him, almost as if reprimanding him for staying away for so long. Like a mother’s nagging. The accidental thought that he deserves to be nagged crosses his mind— because he does; he deserves to be scolded for leaving you without talking things through first. Won’t you come back to him and scold him? So that he can say sorry and return to you.

He’s so mad at you but fuck he misses you.

Closing his eyes was a big mistake. Now all Jungkook can do is picture your body on top of his body, your skin soft and warm against his skin, your lips peppering tender kisses from his lips down to his throat and chest.

It piques his craving for your presence first, a physical need to be with you. You soothe him, make him happy.

But then the feeling begins to mix with something else, something that cries for your presence in a primal way. A connection so deep it can only be achieved when his body is inside yours. The urge to kiss you gets so strong that Jungkook’s breath hitches, and he has to clear his throat to avoid letting out a moan of utter want.

He would literally die, kill, rob, kidnap, hijack a goddamn plane to have you next to him right now.

The skin on his chest feels sensitive. With the images of your face and body plaguing his head, there is a knot inside him that engorges and throbs. In a way, he’s digging his own grave.

Surely Jungkook can’t be that insane, right?

Oh, but he is. He’s crazy with want and loneliness and he misses you madly. So bad that, without a second thought, his hand goes south to cup the already half-hard tent in his pants, whimpering at the feeling.

Jungkook pictures it’s your hand rubbing the engorged head of his cock through the fabric.

But this is not enough. Hastily, the boy unbuckles his belt and pulls down his trousers, with his underwear following the same fate not long after. His erect cock bounces against his belly, and Jungkook brings his hand to his lips to spit on it while he turns around to lie face down. He’s down the rabbit hole already, so—

“A-ah,” he lets out, taken by surprise when his hand starts squeezing the glistening tip. Is this your ghost truly guiding him? “Oh, fuck…”

The memory of your hands strokes down his chest, peppering kisses. Your voice is murmuring sweet nothings, words of praise because you’d always appreciate it when he was a good boy. If his teasing and misbehaviour ignited you, his compliance would always bring out your sweetness.

Such a good boy, it says. Jungkook’s fist starts pumping faster. My baby bun.

You draw your finger down his spine, to his buttocks, until it reaches his perineum, making him chuckle nervously. “Noona,” Jungkook breathes out, “w-where are you touching?”

Let mommy have her way, will you, baby?

“But I— I’ve never been touched d-down there,” he whispers to himself, burying his face in the pillow.

Won’t you let me touch your pretty virgin hole, Kookie? It’ll feel good, I promise. Bet it’s so tight. Just get me the lube, spread your legs, and stop whining. It might hurt at first, but you’ll like it.

Your harsh tone kind of upsets him, but he figures out that you must want him so badly that you can’t help but sound demanding. That’s just the way you love him.

Jungkook doesn’t really have much idea of what he’s doing, he just knows what Jimin and Taehyung have decided to share with him about anal sex throughout their friendship. Lube it up first, as much as you can— and so he does, spurting lots of the slippery substance onto his digits before he plays with his puckered rim.

His arm starts hurting, so he turns over on the bed. Way better, he notes; now he can spread his legs, even press them against his chest. Open wide for you, so pretty, you’d love it.

His spit-coated finger strikes again, and Jungkook brings the blankets to his nose. It soothes him, your scent. In this little space, you’re still with him, you still want him. That is your thumb playing around his thighs, those are your lips smirking down at him.

The blankets, at least, still smell like you.

Jungkook’s other hand wraps around his cock again, pumping it fast to help him relax. In his mind, it’s your, jerking him off with a smirk on your face. Oh, you love watching him fall apart. You would scoot in between his parted legs and slide his cock into your mouth, bobbing your head until he starts sobbing in pleasure.

“S-shit.”

His fisted hand picks up a faster pace as it jerks his cock off with its focus on the tip.

Meanwhile, his other finger has stopped teasing his entrance and has begun to probe. The lube makes it easier while the stimulation coming from his cock has shoved him into a relaxed mental state.

“Oh—” And it finally slides in. The feeling is odd but nice – like he’s stuffed. Jungkook starts jerking off even faster, the sounds echoing through the room. “Oh, fuck, mommy! Shit—”

Knew you would love it, bunny.

He lets out a muffled moan. “Yes, yes— l-love it so much.”

Your tongue playing with his slit, your gentle finger slowly starting to work him open – Jungkook feels about to burst out in flames. His ears feel so hot, he’s positive his blood is boiling right now. The memory of your touch is easily the second-best thing in the world.

His fist messily pumps his cock as Jungkook brings the blanket to his nose. The soft scent, utterly yours, invades his nostrils and intoxicates him to the point of making him salivate.

He wants your pussy on his face to make you come until you think he’s the best you’ve ever had.

Your pretty, dripping wet pussy. Shit, having your cunt on his tongue brings him peace. Flicking your clit with his pointed tongue to bring out those sweet words of how good he makes you feel, what a good boy he is. That he’s enough. Nothing in this ugly world compares to being inside of you, he was made to make love with you – it’s his fate and home.

“M-mommy,” he calls out, eyes shut tight and eyebrows knitted together, “slow, please—” But his hands begin moving faster until his finger finds an engorged spot inside of him. “Fuck! Oh, f-fucking Christ!” Jungkook can’t stop rubbing it; it sends shivers from his core up to his very fingertips while his cock grows harder in his other hand. “Y/N! Please, please, please—! Shit, mommy, b-bunny— come, bunny come!”

Your lips feel real against his ear shell. Yeah? Does bunny want to come while mommy fucks his tight ass? Jungkook nods. What a slut.

His back arches off the bed. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck!”

Legs now spread open, Jungkook sobs in pleasure, overwhelmed. There are so many sensitive spots being ravaged right now, and there you are, hovering above him, smirking since you know fucking everything. A surprisingly sweet, gentle sparkle behind your pupils.

I love you, Jungkook.

That’s it, that’s his tipping point. In a second, his hips go from thrusting into his fist to bucking, and soon he’s coming all over his hand, his walls pulsing around his other finger.

“I—” Jungkook coughs. “S-shit, Y/N, I— I love you too,” he whimpers.

As he comes down from his high, the room suddenly feels empty and quiet. You’re not here, he remembers. The heat in his cheeks feels embarrassing, he’s just that pathetic. Then he looks down at his cum-covered palm.

You’re not here, and you won’t come back. Even if Jungkook threw his pride and self-worth out the window and crawled back to you, you won’t take him. You don’t need him. You don’t want him.

The first tear falls down his cheek, leaving a salty trail in contrast to his burning skin. His breath hitches in his throat, and soon Jungkook has to cover his mouth not to let any of his sobs out. Why did he ever decide to just accept it without trying to fight for you? Is that why you are so cold towards him? Because he was a compliant coward?

Maybe.

After cleaning himself and finishing sealing the boxes, Jungkook hurries out of the flat.

He’ll forget the tears of shame, he’ll forget how much he wants and misses you, he’ll forget that he’s in love, he’ll forget all about you. This was the last straw, perhaps; a moment of closure before he can wipe the slate clean.

Jungkook slams the boot of his car shut and slumps into the driver’s seat with a tired groan.  When he starts the car, the radio comes on by surprise. Any noise mixes with the beeping in his head, so he hurries to turn it off before his headache worsens and sets off back to the university.

The corridors of the men’s dormitory are filled with students walking around in their underwear, passing a ball around, shouting – for some reason – or with their eyes glued to their phones. Jungkook makes his way through them as he catches a glimpse of Soobin’s face and other teammates in the crowd, but he chooses to ignore them, although he does wonder what their weird faces were all about.

After putting down a couple of boxes to turn the handle, Jungkook squats down to pick them up again and walks into his room with his back turned, pushing the door open with his ass.

“Shit, so it’s true.”

The voice sounds familiar, but not too much. So, he turns around, dropping the boxes on his bed, just to face the sight of fucking Kim Seokjin standing like an idiot in front of him. His entire body freezes, or it bursts out in flames, or maybe it gets struck by lightning— whatever. Jungkook just stands there, staring at him in complete silence.

“I thought those guys in the team were kidding,” Seokjin finally says. “Or at least I hoped so—”

“What are you doing in my room?” he cuts him off.

Oh, so this is what you meant when you said your boyfriend lived on another planet; it’s obvious this is his new room, knowing that he’s been bringing in his stuff the entire morning. The reason Jungkook is asking nonetheless, well, that’s a mystery to him.

Seokjin lets out an awkward chuckle. “I, uh… I was assigned this room.”

“No.”

“Don’t worry,” the eldest says with a sigh, “it won’t be for long. I’m looking for a place already. This was just a favour from the supervisor.”

Motherfucker.

“Yeah, and there was no other room to put your ass in except this one, right?” Before Seokjin can even reply, Jungkook turns around in disbelief, hands on his hips. “He totally did this to get on my nerves.”

“Man, I… I have no idea. Just asked him for the favour.”

Wait, why is he having a conversation with the asshole who stole his girlfriend? And now he’s also his roommate. The universe hates him.

Jungkook rolls his eyes and turns around to start unpacking the boxes; maybe if he ignores him, it won’t be a deadly situation. Yeah, that’s it, Jungkook just has to pretend Kim Seokjin isn’t here, or even that he doesn’t exist at all, and he will get some of his peace back.

When he bends down to charge his phone, he notices that it’s busy charging another one already. The device makes a bubbling noise when unplugged, drawing his roommate’s attention as he recognises the sound.

Stifling a curse and making a grimace of realisation, Seokjin turns around with a smile. “Ah, yeah, I plugged your charger into my phone, I hope you don’t—”

“Well— don’t!” Jungkook unplugs the charger abruptly, the phone still in his grip. “You can’t just… go around taking my things, okay! God damn it, is there anything you’ll let me keep? Like a fucking robber…”

However, the device starts to ring, and a very familiar name shows up on the screen.

Y/N, incoming call.

Jungkook goes suddenly quiet, his shoulders now listless as he hands him back the phone. For a second, Seokjin forgets all about how nuts the guy actually is and gets a slight feeling of pity and remorse before taking the call and putting the screen on his ear.

“Hello—? Ah, yeah— sorry, didn’t see the time. Hm, yes, I’m on my way.”

Ah, yes, your Prince Charming is late to pick you up. The realisation makes him chuckle at first, but it soon turns bitter.

You truly have stopped caring for him.

The mere idea that he no longer has a place in your heart is terrifying. It’s unfair that this had to happen for Jungkook to figure out the actual depth of his feelings because now that he wants to, he… can’t do anything about it. But even if he could, could his pride ever allow him to? Crawling back to the woman who dumped him like he’s worthless.

Jungkook prefers to think it wouldn’t.

The three of them look at each other in a newly established silence. More and more often their reactions to everything their young friend says cannot be otherwise.

“I mean, you know I never say no to getting wasted at a club,” Jimin finally says, frowning, “but are you sure that’s what you want? Wouldn’t you prefer, uh, I don’t know… staying over for a movie night, maybe?”

But Jungkook only scoffs. “What, like I’m a kid? I wanna party!”

“All right, all right! Jesus…” Jimin gets up to fill his cup with water and comes back, hoping his friend has calmed down. This attitude of his is starting to get on his nerves. “Okay, let’s go out tonight, then… How about you two sleep over so we can just grab a cab? You’re always the designated driver, Tae.”

“That’s not the point!” Jungkook suddenly blurts out. “I wanna— I wanna, like, not sleep at all. A-and I’ll get fucking wasted, and I— I’ll fuck! I’ll meet a hot chick and I’ll fuck her!” he cries out then.

Jimin and Taehyung share a look.

“Do you really think you’re ready to hook up with anyone that’s not Y/N?” the latter says, playing with his drink as he feigns disinterest. “There’s no point in messing around with a girl just to—”

“I don’t need her, I don’t want her! She’s a-a bitch!” Jungkook cuts him off.

Then he gets up and goes to open the fridge, looking for another beer. Taehyung rubs his eyes; this sounds like a night to remember, that’s for sure. And if it’s not, he’s pretty sure Jungkook will make sure no one forgets about it.

A couple of hours later, they’re getting out of the cab and walking toward the club.

Yes, he has everything under control, this is not something he’s never done before: he will get drunk and make eye contact, and then everything will go on fluidly, like always. It doesn’t have to be any different from what he used to do before he fell for you. Yeah, it won’t probably be the same; he won’t tremble in expectation the way he’d do when it was you, and their touches won’t feel like your soft hands roaming down his back. It won’t be your lips kissing him, or your voice praising him because, honestly, he just wants to be good for you.

He knows all that already.

“Everything okay, Kookie?” Jungkook snaps out of his thoughts. Suddenly, he’s standing in the line at the club’s entrance, and Taehyung stands next to him. “Don’t worry, Jimin just went off to talk to the bouncer. We’ll get in any second now.”

They had a few drinks before coming. The alcohol is bubbling in his blood like soda, he feels dizzy. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea – oh, he’s regretting it now. So, so much.

His friend stares at him. “You look pale.”

“It’s just the lighting,” Jungkook rushes to say, shrugging.

“Whatever.”

And Taehyung turns around.

Jimin comes back barely a few minutes later, holding a drink and waving at them on his way. With a cheerful call, he collects them and leads them to the entrance, where the bouncer nods and steps back to let them in.

“Good thing your dad knows the owner!” Jungkook exclaims as they walk into the club, but his voice is muffled by the loud music.

He was saying it to cheer himself up, so it doesn’t really matter.

They approach the bar, first things first. As soon as they each have a drink in their hand, they will go around looking for some fun or, at least, better music to dance to. Maybe the floors underground will satisfy them, or perhaps the roof terrace where the cocktails are better.

It was weird at first, hanging out with rich people. Jungkook was expecting to spend his freshman nights out at shabby clubs – which he’s had his fair share of, to be honest – but was surprised with fancy premises and colourful drinks. You’d always complain about what he had never had the courage, saying that you felt out of place surrounded by snobby folks.

The way his head spins as the crowd engulfs him makes him realise that, perhaps, he’s had a few more drinks at Jimin’s place than he had initially planned.

“God, I wanna dance, but the music is so… ugh.” Jimin comes back to him and rests his back against the column. “Don’t you agree with me, Kookie? Can we go somewhere else?”

“What!”

Jimin rolls his eyes and yells, “I said, can we go somewhere else?”

“Where’s Tae?” he asks.

“Necking someone, I guess. Come on, let’s move! Everyone is, like, in their thirties or balding here.”

“Already…?”

The roof terrace is their next destination. There are more people on the dance floor, swinging their hips and singing along to the music. They’re younger too, Jimin notices. At least he doesn’t feel like he died and went to hell.

“Hey, hyung, I—” Jungkook turns around as soon as he has received the drink from the barman only to suddenly find himself alone in the middle of the club. Jimin’s red outfit slowly vanishes into the dance floor crowd. After that, well, he’s completely alone. “Fuck, they always do this to me, shit.”

With a sigh of resignation, Jungkook takes the first sip of his edulcorated drink.

He’s dully checking out the rooftop when a bunch of girls catches his attention; they’re eying him, giggling and harping each other with the shoulder.

Jungkook watches how one of them eventually walks up to him with a shiny smile. She flaunts her shoulders as she approaches, quite charmingly. By the time the girl gets there, Jungkook is already sweating with anxiety; no, this was not a good idea at all. He’s regretting it already.

“Hey!” she exclaims, trying to get herself through the loud music blasting in their ears. “Saw your friend leaving! Poor thing.”

The conversation doesn't last long – a ‘hello, do you study or work, where do you study, have you come with more friends, my girlfriends are single too, what are you drinking’ – until the girl, whose name Jungkook didn’t quite catch on because of the loud music, proposes to move it to a quieter place. He follows her, not quite sure what’s going on anymore.

They spot a bench on the other side of the roof terrace, where the music is muffled, and the air is cooler.

She takes a sit. “Yeah, this is way better, thank you. Anyways, so, Jungkook… I guess you don’t have a girlfriend, right?” the girl jokes with a giggle.

Jungkook stares at her in silence first. For a few long, awkward seconds. His eyes seem to blank, it looks like nothing crosses his mind, and the words can’t come out of his mouth. A second later, though, the first sob breaks through his chest.

“Oh, shit, I—”

At the bewildered look of the poor girl, who inwardly can’t stop cursing her bad luck in her choice of potential flings, he begins to cry with his face buried in his hands. She pats his back with a grimace as Jungkook leans forward on the bench, trying to comfort him. After a few more broken sobs, he finally manages to sit up again.

“She… fuck.” Jungkook wipes his tears with the back of his hand. “She cheated on me with her ex.”

“Damn— I mean, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Never mind.”

The girl picks up her glass from the floor and takes a long sip with a blank stare. Honestly, all her friends are in the most obnoxious mood tonight. She had hoped that a date for the evening would keep her entertained, or at least take her away from the boring conversation of her friends, talking about the same thing all the time. She was wrong. The least this Jungkook guy can do is to thoroughly take her through all the drama, and she will pretend she cares enough to give him her advice.

She glances at him as naturally as she can manage. “You can tell me if you want. It’ll do you good to get it off your chest.”

With a dramatic head turn, Jungkook doesn’t play hard to get and starts telling her everything; from how you met, all the way through the bet, and finally, the evening he found you in the room with Kim Seokjin.

“Talk things out with her!” she blurts out, making him flinch. “God, I can’t believe you just ran away without making sure it wasn’t a misunderstanding. And, of course, her ex was there to comfort her, Jesus. I’m pretty sure you fucked things up yourself—”

“There wasn’t much chance of misunderstanding—”

The girl rolls her eyes and gulps down her drink. “You men can be so stupid, really.”

“Hey!” Jungkook whines.

“What?”

“You…!” Jungkook frowns at her, pressing his lips together. There are still tears drying up on his cheeks, and his eyes sting with the threat of more of them. “You don’t know anything! You have no fucking idea!”

“Well, dude, I can see why she dumped you.” The girl finally gets up and walks away, but he only glances at her when she grunts, “Fucking asshole…”

Jungkook sits on the bench like a pathetic loser until the next time he raises his arm to drink he realises that his glass is empty. Since Jimin and Taehyung aren’t here to get him another one, and a drink in a place like this would cost half his allowance, he decides to get up and walk back to the dorms. First, of course, he writes a message saying goodbye in case, by chance, at some point in the night, either of them realises that he’s not there.

“Shit, shit, shit…”

You race down the stairs to the ground floor, backpack tightly hugged between your arms so that it doesn’t fly away. Your throat is dry, your chest is burning, and the back of your neck is covered with sweat from the effort, but you will make it; you will not be late.

Just as the clock strikes two minutes to twelve, you skid in front of the plastic door.

As you try to get in, however, someone pushes the door against you, and you have to step back for the safety of your face.

“Ah, Y/N, sorry!” one of the students says. “Didn’t see you there.”

“No biggie… Why is everybody leaving?”

Another girl, Nayeon, shrugs. “Doctor Lee has come down with something, so there’s no class today. We’re going to the cafeteria to grab a bite, wanna come with us?”

“Sure.”

As you walk down the hall, Nayeon gets closer to your side, making you raise your eyebrows. She just smiles and waits until the rest of the group is engrossed in a new conversation before finally talking:

“So, did you hear the rumours?” she whispers.

You shake your head. “Uh, no.”

“Do you want me to tell you?” Nayeon looks conflicted all of a sudden. “It may upset you.”

“Is this about Jungkook?”

“Yeah.”

Knew it.

With a snort, you stand in the middle of the corridor as the others, unaware, walk away. “Okay, let’s hear it. What did he do this time?”

“Apparently, Tae, Jimin, and Jungkook went out the other day, and he hooked up with a girl,” Nayeon says quietly, watching how your face loses all colour. “So, I guess it makes you guys, uh… officially unofficial? I always hoped it was just a rough patch and that you would get back together, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you murmur and keep going to catch up.

Don’t cry, don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry. Not in front of everyone, not now that you’re finally aware of the way their curious eyes fix on you.

Whatever is going on with Jungkook, it seems like he’s set his mind on it. From now on, it’s not just a crisis or a ‘rough patch’, you’re officially broken. It’s just crazy that you still don’t know what horrible deed you’ve done to make up his mind.

You pick up the tray and go to take a seat next to Nayeon. Like a swift shadow, Soobin appears out of nowhere and sits on your other side. You can’t help letting out a tired sigh.

“How are you, noona?”

“Hungry,” you simply respond, bringing the chopsticks to your lips.

Soobin laughs. “Want some of mine, then? We could share.” Without waiting for your answer, he rushes to put some of his sliced pork on your tray. “There, you can take as much as you want—”

“Listen, Soobin…”

The boy stops right away at your serious tone and stares into your firm eyes with a gulp, expectant.

“Yeah?”

Today, tired and heartbroken, you don’t have the patience to put up with the boy and his shenanigans. Maybe you should have had this conversation a long, long time ago, but only now do you realise it. You’re not angry at him or irritated, just worn out.

“You’re a good guy, and I know what you’re trying to do when you do stuff like this,” you continue, this time more gently as you lean into him. “But… I’m not interested, okay?” His eyes darken all of a sudden, and your heart shrinks in pity. “You’re out of line most of the time. And whether I’m dating someone or not doesn’t change that, all right?”

“Even when he slept with someone else?”

You raise your head, eyes wide open totally astounded. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t you want revenge? He already hates me,” Soobin explains. “But only if you and Jin-hyung are not serious, of course… Or am I out of line now too?”

“So far away from it you can’t even see it, so it seems,” you reply with an unbelieving laugh, already getting up.

You stare at Soobin for a second before you walk away; he looks certain and confident about the conversation. Maybe because he still believes he ever had a chance, but there’s something else, something about him that you can’t quite get yet. Does he, though? Does he not?

With a sigh, you take out your phone.

[Monday, 12:42 AM] You: We need to talk.

[Monday, 12:42 AM] You: Where are you? Are you on campus?

[Monday, 12:45 AM] ✨Park Jimin✨: Just about to leave class, why? What happened?

[Monday, 12:49 AM] You: I think it’s time we talk things out.

[Monday, 12:49 AM] You: Also, I need to ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest.

[Monday, 12:50 AM] You: Could you do that for me?

A group of students pass by you, and among them you see Jungkook. He seems to be doing very well, you’ve never seen him make new friends before. Maybe the idea you had of him was quite wrong; maybe Soobin was right all along. Be that as it may, you first want to make sure that the rumours are true. Not just because you find it odd, but because something inside you refuses to believe it.

[Monday, 12:56 AM] ✨Park Jimin✨: Sure, see you in ten minutes in Kang’s lecture hall, after everyone has left.

[Monday, 12:58 AM] ✨Park Jimin✨: It’s good to talk to you again :)

You don’t reply to his last texts. Instead, you walk down the corridor and go upstairs to wait by the door. There’s ruckus coming from the other side already, so your guess is that everyone is already collecting their things to leave.

Jimin, who is still standing on the treads, bows to his professor as the old man walks out, and you greet him with a polite nod of your head.

“Hey.”

You leave your backpack on the desk behind him. “Hey.”

“Good to see you,” he murmurs, looking up at you before you sit down. “How’s it going?”

“Did Jungkook really sleep with another girl?”

For some reason, Jimin did not expect any other question than this. The fact that Jungkook went around spreading the rumour doesn’t help either, but he has his hands tied on the matter; his friend doesn’t listen to him anymore.

“Do you want the long answer or the short one?” Jimin asks then.

You sigh. “The short one.”

“No, he did not.”

“Hm…” Frowning, you cross your arms, totally taken aback. “What’s the long one, then?”

Eyes looking down at his palms, the boy takes a deep breath. Maybe this is a breaking point, and he probably shouldn’t be talking about this. If this changes your mind about Jungkook, he will hate him forever. But if this helps you open your eyes to the situation, well, then Jimin will be happy – he just wants you two to be happy, together or not. And you deserve to know the truth.

“He didn’t, but he came close,” he explains. “At some point, the girl asked him if he had a girlfriend and Jungkookie burst into tears. Then he whined a bit about you, she comforted him, and the last thing I heard was the girl calling him an asshole.”

You gulp down, your stomach churning. Suddenly you feel out of breath. “So, he didn’t do it, but he tried to.”

“Well, yeah?” Jimin scratches the back of his neck, awkwardly shifting on the chair. “It was kind of his idea to go out and sleep around, but he just can’t.”

“So, he’s really going around trying to get into the pants of every girl he sees?”

“Why are you mad? He couldn’t do it! That’s— that’s good! It means he’s not over you yet,” he tries to comfort you as he kneels in front of you. “If it affects you so much, why did you choose Seokjin-hyung over him?”

You uncover your conflicted face. “If it ‘affects me’ so much…? I’m— what?”

“You sound jealous.”

That’s the last straw. With a spasm, you begin to cry, shrinking in your chair. Jimin freezes until he comes back to his senses and takes your hands, stroking them with his thumbs.

“How is ‘jealous’ the first word you could think of? How could I not be jealous?” you cry out.

“But you broke up with Kookie, didn’t you?” he murmurs, voice lower and lower. “You have no right to be.”

Suddenly calm, you let go of his hands. “Uh, yeah, that’s another thing I wanted to ask! Could someone please tell me when I broke up with him? Because, as far as I can remember, neither of us has ever sat down to talk about breaking up. He just… ghosted me.”

“But he says— he says you did. You dumped him for Jin-hyung, he heard you.”

You frown and look away as you try to find some logic. Is it an excuse? But you were doing great before finding out about the bet, so it couldn’t be that. You may be a depressive bitch, but his affection towards you seemed genuine… or not? Could this be just his long-term revenge for how bad you treated him in the past? But then, why would he crumble down instead of hooking up with that stranger? Maybe Jimin is lying.

“Are you lying?”

“Why would I?” Jimin replies with a scoff. “Jungkook begged me not to tell anyone. I’m telling you because someone has to seal up this fucking drama.”

Okay, if Jungkook did all of this out of pure convincement that you really dumped him for Seokjin, how the fuck did he come to that shitty conclusion? It couldn’t be Jin himself; you know him well enough. Maybe someone from the team? But Jungkook couldn’t be convinced like that in one day.

“I don’t know why, but Jungkook thinks I cheated on him with Seokjin, is that it?” you sum up.

“He says he heard you,” Jimin explains, sitting back on his chair. “And after what he had been hearing in the club ever since Jin-hyung came back, and knowing what he’s like, it’s no wonder that’s the conclusion he came to.”

“Sounds a bit extreme to me.”

Jimin shrugs. “Look, whatever Jungkook heard, it made him believe that you cheated on him and dumped him for your ex.”

Oh.

Oh, fuck. Seokjin’s visit, that must be it. The noise from the entrance, the door closing. You contemplated the possibility that it was Jungkook, but now that you think of it— without context, it was a weird conversation. But it’s not like he caught you doing anything wrong either, right? It’s his problem for not asking. And besides, he didn’t bother to try to solve the problem either, he just ran away whining – like he always does.

You get up and put your backpack on your shoulder as you thank Jimin for giving up so much of his precious time to answer all your questions. At least now you have a clear view of what happened.

Jimin gets up with you. “I think you should talk to him. He must be on his way to practice.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“But you’re still together! That’s great!” he exclaims.

“After he tried to sleep with another girl?” you ask coldly, arching an eyebrow. “No, thanks. She can keep him.”

And you walk out of the classroom, hoping that the warm feeling in your chest will die soon. At least before you have to kill it yourself.

Don’t hesitate to like, reblog, and leave some feedback if you liked it! It’s always good and encouraging to know what you think <3

“STAY” is copyright ²⁰²² Lola Bangtan, all rights reserved.

[btsgotjams27]

this is us ~ jjk | 16

six months later and you're still not over jungkook, and when you finally hit rock bottom, you realize you have to pick yourself up because no one else can do it for you.

✨ title: this is us | (sequel to all grown up) ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: m/18+ | minors dni ✨ genre/au: drama, romance, angst, fluff, smut | est!relationship, age gap, bff's younger brother ✨ playlist | AO3 & Wattpad ✨ a/n: if you haven’t read the prequel to this, please do so here! :) ✨ a/n 2: hello, hello! can you believe we're almost done with this series? it's been a crazy journey for these two, hasn't it? lol. well, i'll just say the angst is strong in this chapter but! this is the last angsty chapter, which i'm kind of happy for myself, my readers, and the characters lmaooooo. i hope y'all enjoy it and now it's only going up from this point out!

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] | next ✨ 17 ~ one year later

chapter 16 ~ so maybe you're not okay | wc: 5.4k warnings: time skip (6 months later), angst, reader is reflecting on her past actions, language, alcohol consumption, *some* tough love, self-deprecation, depressing thoughts, mentions of throwing up smut warnings: kissing, touching, groping, breast play

~ six months since the breakup ~

Six months have passed since you and Jungkook split up. Sometimes, your heart ached continually, and you wondered when it would stop or ever cease. You almost gave in and called to check how he was doing or what he was up to, but you didn't. It was foolish to believe he'd want to talk to you since he, too, was hurt. You had shattered his heart for the second time, and you shouldn't be surprised if he never wanted to hear from you again.

Your heart skipped a beat anytime his name was uttered, whether it was Jin or Yuna. A part of you wanted to know if he was doing well or if he was as unhappy as you, but you were hoping for the latter. He deserved happiness, and you wanted him to find it even if you weren’t a part of it.

As much as you wanted to run away from responsibilities, you couldn’t. Your show was the only thing that kept you going—for now, at least. Critics and audiences alike praised the first half of the season, but as the season proceeded, numbers began to fall, making you doubt your talent and career. Could your writing be suffering as a result of your breakup? It did take up a lot of your mental space these days.

You wanted to hide under a rock and never come out again, it was virtually impossible because your phone rang nonstop day and night, attempting to put out fires—executives, producers, and writers breathing down your neck, never letting you take a breath. You just wanted everything to halt, and you just wanted no one to need you. But you were reminded of that whenever you stepped into your apartment. You didn’t know which was worse anymore.

The show's last day couldn’t have come any faster, and Kenji wanted to go big and celebrate the filming wrapping. You arrived at the beautiful modern building, which hardly looked like a restaurant.

“Hello, darling.”

You turned to your ex-boyfriend, his arm snaking around your waist. He could never help himself, but you smacked his arm away. “Kenji,” you said with a scowl.

“I’m sorry, love—habit.” You rolled your eyes. “Come on, let’s celebrate,” he said, holding his arm for you to take, though you didn’t amuse him by doing so. You were tired of his antics.

Because it was a party and you were practically the face of the project, you had to put on your best smile and pretend everything was fine—better than okay, perfect because you had gotten what you wanted out of your career, you had worked your ass off to get where you are. Still, none of this mattered if you didn't have the most important person by your side, but you didn’t dare utter his name.

If there was one thing you hated about being in this industry, it was the mingling aspect. Of course, you cared for your crew but showed it differently than how Kenji wanted to. You preferred intimate gatherings, taking a few groups to talk and catch up.

Though, at this point, you didn’t want to be around anyone anymore and just wanted to eliminate the noise clouding up your mind and space.

“Hey, babe. Are you doing okay?” Hyunie asked, pulling you in for a hug.

You loved your friend, but you swear to God if she asked you one more time if you were okay, you’d explode. “I’m fine,” you snapped, closing your eyes.

Having Hyunie by your side throughout this project was a godsend, and you couldn’t have done it without her. As Yuna was busy with baby Indie, Hyunie became your right-hand gal, almost waiting on you hand and foot.

She cleared her throat. “I just wanted to make sure,” she muttered, ready to walk away.

“Wait, Hyunie—” You turned, grasping her hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“It’s okay. I know you’re stressed. I’ll leave you alone.”

God—were you always this bitchy and cranky? Or had you unlocked a new part of yourself that you’d only discovered after breaking up with Jungkook? Either way, you’d lose your friend if you didn’t stop.

You had stopped counting how many glasses of wine you had accepted from the server as he passed by with his tray, but it had to have been more than enough for you to want to kiss the next person you saw.

Aimlessly, you stared at your wine glass. Are you the only one like this? What the fuck are you doing with your life? Pretending to be okay when you weren’t. Shit—you were so fucking pathetic.

Every day, the same thing, over and over again. Mindlessly, alone. You were gradually losing yourself in your innermost thoughts.

Tomorrow may be better. Maybe it’ll be alright. But who were you kidding? They were nothing but lies. You were too far gone, too broken. And it didn’t look like it could ever be reversed.

“So, you’re the big boss, hmm?”

You looked up to see a handsome man donned in an all-black outfit, his honey-skin chest practically on display, the deep V of his silk shirt leading your eyes down to his lower half. “That’s me,” you muttered, swirling the last of what was left in your wine glass.

“Can I get you a refill?”

“Yes, please.”

The man flashed a beautiful smile before going behind the counter, reaching underneath to pull up a bottle of wine.

“Are you supposed to be back there?” you asked, raising a brow because he wasn’t a crew member from your show. Actually, you had never seen him before.

He chuckled. “I’m Jung Hoseok, co-owner of Onjium.” You held your glass out for him to refill.

“It’s a beautiful restaurant, and the food is immaculate.”

“Ah, why, thank you,” he remarked. “Should I return the favor and praise your show?”

You tried to suppress your smirk by sipping the red wine. “I’d rather you praise me instead."

Hoseok's tongue darts to wet his lips, biting the bottom. "I can do that."

It had been too long since you had kissed anyone, alone let anyone even touch you. But Hoseok’s kisses from the column of your neck trailing towards your collarbone made you realize how horny you were—and your vibrator wasn’t cutting it anymore. You weren’t sure why you hadn’t sought out a fuck buddy in the first place. It would’ve easily taken your mind off everything and relieved some stress.

His hardened length brushed against your clothed heat, his soft lips continuing to mark your body, his hand on the small of your back, eliminating the distance between you. “Fuck—you’re so sexy,” he kissed your lips. “Why isn’t every man dropping to their knees for you?”

You throw your head back, a chuckle leaving your lips. “Do you always flatter every woman who walks through your restaurant’s doors?” you ask, tugging at his belt, unfastening it with his pants.

He grins and shakes his head. “I never do things like this,” he lies through his teeth.

“Uh-huh, sure,” you quip back. “So you’ve never fucked anyone on this couch before?” You found it hard to believe—a good-looking man like him, not fucking every beautiful that walked into his restaurant?

“Nope, never,” he laughs, coming in for another kiss, his hard length pressing into your lower abdomen, making you ache and crave what’s hidden beneath those briefs. “Can I?” he asks, toying with the thin straps of your dress.

“Please do. I’m at your service to be praised and adored.” You were hardly ever this bold or confident. Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through your veins, coinciding with how shitty you’ve been feeling these past several months.

Hoseok’s slender fingers drew imaginary circles into your skin. He studied your face—eyes closed, mouth agape, and head lolled back. Savoring every moment as you bite your bottom lip, just waiting for him to continue as he pleased. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

Honestly, at this moment? Anything—anything to relieve the ache that was building inside your body.

He hums, waiting for your answer.

You opened your eyes and straightened your posture. He still hadn’t removed your straps, so you did it for him, agonizingly slow, of course—just as he teased you, you did the same to him. But your stupid bra stood in the way until you unfastened the hooks, freeing your breasts one at a time. His attention is now diverted from your eyes to your chest, taking in the perfect view.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you leaned in, whispering, “I want you to fuck me so hard that you have to take me home and then fuck me all over again.”

He shifted in his seat, adjusting himself, then gripped the soft flesh of your ass through your black slip dress. His hands roamed the sides of your body. His eyes fixated on your breasts before palming them in his hands. “Fuck–yes. You don’t have to tell me twice.”

His hand reached the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss. You spread your legs wider, rolling your hips against his erection. Faint whimpers leave your lips when his fingers pinch your stiff peaks.

“Fuck–Kook. I need you inside me.”

“Name’s Hoseok,” he says between kisses.

“Don’t–don’t talk.”

“Anything you want, princess.”

You pulled away with a deadpan expression, breathing a loud sigh.

“You just ruined it.” Of course, he couldn’t have known that you hated that pet name, but that pet name also brought you back to reality.

You drew the strings of your dress back over your shoulders, proceeding to grab the rest of your things. “I’m sorry, Hoseok. I shouldn’t have done this,” you say, looking around for your bra.

“Was it something I said?”

Technically, yes, but also, you were stupid for trying to sleep with a man you had just met. This wasn’t you. You didn’t go around fucking random strangers–you much preferred being in a loving relationship, not one-night stands with men you’d never see again.

“No–it’s me. I’m sorry.”

Quickly, you left the crime scene, slipping into a taxi, still holding your bra because you couldn't put it back on without someone stopping to talk to you. With eyes closed and a loud sigh, your head lolled back on the car’s headrest. The angel on your shoulder was berating you for making bad decisions. The devil told you to return to the man who wanted to sleep with you and show you a good time. Right now, you didn’t want to listen to either of them.

You open your eyes and straighten your posture, catching a glimpse of yourself in the rearview. The person staring back was unrecognizable—having sunk to the lowest of the lows, unsure if you could pick yourself back up. At this point, you wondered how your friends could even put up with you. You didn’t even want to be around yourself—a pitiful mess you were.

Sundays were brunch days at Yuna and Namjoon’s. It was a tradition the group had organized since the new parents had their hands full.

But you lay in bed, thinking of the many excuses you could give to your best friend to get out of this brunch you had started to loathe. It reminded you of your mother’s family reunion dinners.

You 9:27 AM *cough*cough* I’m not feeling well. I think I drank too much.

Yuna 9:29 AM 😒 Get your ass over here. I don’t care if you’re on your deathbed.

Tae 9:30 AM Dang—mama don’t play. You tell her, Noona!

Hyunie 9:30 AM Seriously, taetae? Why??? Why are you like this? 😑

Joon 9:31 AM I’m making my infamous avocado toast.

Jin 9:32 AM Namjoon cooking? *cough*cough* I’m sick too.

Yuna 9:33 AM Oh! Don’t make me slap all of you through this phone. Everyone be here at 10:30! OR ELSE.

You 9:33 AM Fine…

Jin 9:34 AM Okay—MOM.

Tae 9:34 AM Or else, what? You’ll spank me?

Hyunie 9:35 AM Someone come strangle my husband before I do!!

Even if you were on your deathbed, huh? Apparently, you still had to attend this infamous Sunday brunch.

A notification bell came through your phone, illuminating your screen.

Jin 9:37 AM I can come pick you up.

You 9:38 AM Why? You don’t trust that I’ll go there?

Jin 9:38 AM Nope 🙃 See you soon friend.

The car ride to Yuna’s consisted of nothing but radio silence. Jin looked over, watching you mindlessly observe pedestrians, deep in thought about who knows what. He wanted to interrupt many times but didn’t want to appear insensitive.

“You look like shit,” Taehyung remarked, sitting at the table.

“Thanks, Taehyung. I really appreciate your honesty,” you faked a smile before letting it falter. “FYI—this is what I look like, hungover.”

“You seem to be drinking a lot these days,” Yuna couldn’t help but comment.

“There’s nothing wrong with drinking,” Namjoon responded as he was focused on smashing the avocados in the bowl. He looked up to see his wife glaring at him. “What?” He cleared his throat. “I mean, as long as it’s done in moderation. We don’t want anything bad to happen to our bodies.” He looked over at Yuna again, who was pleased with his answer.

“Maybe just slow down on the mimosas today, babe,” Hyunie interjected when you picked up the tall, slim glass and sipped. Whoever made it went a bit overboard on the champagne. It wouldn’t be your fault, it was whoever made this.

“I’m fine,” you noted. “I’m a big girl, and I can care for myself.”

With her tongue in cheek, Yuna tuts as she spreads the butter on the piece of bread, preparing the pan for the avocado toast.

You wanted to let that slide because she had been like this for the past few months, making snide, snarky comments or saying things under her breath. Maybe motherhood was taking a toll. Maybe she hadn’t had enough sleep. Maybe she, too, was pissed off at the world.

“Do you have something you want to say to me?” You set your glass down, folding your arms across your chest. Maybe you were feeling confident after the sip of orange juice and champagne.

Everyone quieted down, pretending not to let this conversation become awkward, trying to do other things to distract themselves.

Yuna placed the bread into the warm pan, letting it sizzle, but she didn’t answer you. She had wanted to talk to you privately for a while now, but everything was bubbling up to the surface, and she couldn’t hold it in any longer.

Namjoon clenched his jaw and lightly elbowed her, giving her the staredown of the century, mouthing, “Not now.”

“Why not? Hmm?” she answers aloud to her husband. “She needs to hear what I have to say.”

He looks at everyone whose eyes are now on the couple in the kitchen. “There’s a time and place if you want to talk, but not in front of everyone,” he said in a hushed tone, quickly glancing at you, then back to his smashed avocados.

“Yuna, if you have something to say, just fucking say it.” You were tired of all these side eyes and unspoken words.

She sighs and then turns off the stovetop, removing the pan from the heat. “It’s been six months, Y/n. Six months since Jungkook left.”

“Yeah, you don’t think I fucking know that? I have to live with that knowledge every day. Why can’t you just leave me the fuck alone and let me drink in peace?” Picking up the glass, you took another sip; the bubbly drink fizzled down your throat. “I’m fine,” you lied. “Sometimes I just want to wallow in all the shit I’m feeling, okay? And be fucking depressed, sad, and hurt. Am I not allowed to do that?”

Hyunie steps closer, grasping your arm. “Of course, you can, but we’re just worried about you and want you to talk to us.”

“What do you want me to say?” You look around the room, trying your best to hold it together. Your tongue darted to lick your lips, teeth nibbling your bottom lip, but the yearning in your heart welled to the surface, just waiting to erupt. “You want me to say that I fucked up? Instead of pushing Jungkook away, I should’ve tried to work through it. That I should've gone to LA to get him back? Well, it's too fucking late. I can't do shit now. He's probably moved on with his life and is doing ten times better than I am."

You let go of Hyunie and sat in the dining chair. "God–I'm so pathetic." You wiped the tears streaming down your face. "I feel so numb, so broken," you said with a shaky voice. "I just want to wake up from this stupid nightmare, but I can't because this is my fucking reality. I know I have no one to blame but myself for this mess."

Everyone looked at you with pity and remorse. Practically watching you fall apart. You didn't want this to happen but knew it eventually would.

Yuna sympathized with her best friend, and she did. But she also had her baby brother to worry about as well. She knew how he was doing–which was much better than you right now, and you were right. He had moved on and was in a better spot, mentally and emotionally.

She walked over to you, placing her hand on yours, gently rubbing the top of your hand. Yuna softly sighed, “I love you, I do. But sometimes I just wanna give you a good smack.”

“Jagi!” Namjoon quips, setting down his fork.

“In a loving way, of course,” she pauses, “I'm sorry things turned out the way they did with you and Jungkook. It hurts me to see you like this–living life so aimlessly. If you want him, go get him. If you don't, then move on.”

“It's not that simple,” you said, turning to her.

“I know—but you have to try. Take it one day at a time. Do something fun. Try something you’ve never done before. Get your mind off everything,” Yuna suggests.

She was right. Since your show had wrapped up and nothing else lined up, you could do as you, please. Maybe you could find a new hobby or travel—it’s been a minute since you had a proper vacation. Honestly, traveling to a secluded place seemed like a dream. But would it be a ruse to run away from your problems, or would it help you move on? Could it be a bit of both?

“I’m sorry, guys. I am.” You look up to your friends who have been supportive these past few months while you were at rock bottom.

Jin, Namjoon, and Taehyung grunted or hummed, acknowledging your apology before distracting themselves with something else.

Hyunie comes in for an embrace. “You’re gonna be okay. I know it.” She pulls away, the corners of her lips curving into a reassuring smile.

“I don’t deserve you guys.”

“You don’t,” Jin jokes, in which Namjoon glares at him. “What?” He stuffs a blueberry in his mouth. “Just saying.”

You were conscious of your choices and actions and aware of the consequences; nevertheless, accepting and coming to terms with them was another matter.

Regardless, if you wanted to get out of this deep, dark hole you’ve dug, no one could help you unless you helped yourself.

With nowhere to go, nothing to do, and no one to see—your life felt like it had no meaning, no purpose.

Do something fun.

Yuna’s voice echoed from the day before. Fun? You didn’t even know what you considered fun anymore. What did you even like besides writing and working? No new films were interesting, at least not enough to make you want to pay to sit in front of the big screen. And you just knew you’d be scrolling through Netflix for hours trying to find something to watch before ultimately giving up. There was no point, you thought.

And since none of those things were riveting, you again found yourself at the bar. At least, it was the first time you’d gone this week. Well—to be honest, the week had just begun.

“Another Moscow mule, please,” you inquired, waving down the bartender. It was only your third one of the night, but given that your speech was becoming unintelligible—you’d be cut off soon.

The bartender nodded, acknowledged your request, and began working on your drink.

You held onto the black straw, mindlessly stirring the ice in the copper mug. Your eyes laser-focused on the bottle sitting behind the bar back—Highland Park, single malt whiskey. You preferred cocktails over straight liquor. You didn’t think you could handle all the alcohol content; hell, you could hardly hold the ones in cocktails.

Next to the shelf of liquor stood a mirror, but you couldn’t recognize the person in the reflection. Who was she? Six months had passed since the breakup, and the person in the mirror looked grim and unhappy. You couldn’t remember the last time you genuinely smiled or even laughed, and you had forgotten what true joy felt like.

This past year drained you emotionally and physically. You weren’t sure you had even gotten through all of it, and storing these traumatic, unpleasant memories in your amygdala only to resurface when you drank, forced you to deal with your emotions and feelings—things you didn’t want to touch. They were too painful and tortuous. It was easier to leave them be, brush them off, pretend that life could go on—but you had to face these memories and feelings sooner rather than later, or you’d never be able to pull yourself out of the hole you had dug.

The soft murmur of your name broke your focus on yourself in the mirror. You turned to see Min Yoongi beside you in a black button-down with a turtleneck underneath.

“Why do you look like you just sat down to be interviewed for a documentary?” You ask without regard to how he is doing or what he was doing at the bar.

Yoongi laughed at your abruptness. “I just came from a meeting with a colleague and came here for drinks, but he had to head out; then I saw you sitting here, so here I am.”

“Mmhm, here you are.” Your eyes lit up when the bartender handed you your drink.

“Can I get a single malt whiskey? Neat.”

You chuckled because you were looking at the bottle the bartender picked up.

“You okay?” Yoongi asked, sitting beside you, his knee slightly brushing against yours before swiveling away in his stool.

It would be easy to say, ‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ and go on the rest of the night indulging in small talk, but did you want to open a can of worms?

You gave your attention to the new Moscow mule sitting before you, stabbing the lime with the black straw and pushing it down to the bottom. You turn to him, “I feel like I’m gonna break down and cry at a moment’s notice.”

For some reason, it felt easier to bare your soul to someone who knew nothing about your life because all your friends quickly judged you and your decisions. But not with Yoongi. He knew the bare minimum about you.

“It’s okay to cry. Just don’t cry alone,” he simply said before thanking the bartender and sipping his whiskey.

Honestly, you hadn’t cried in the past few months. You felt more numb than anything, but the accumulation of your relationship with your mom, infertility, and Jungkook was enough to make you want to break down and give up on everything in life. The weight of it all was coming to a peak, ready to erupt.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You just did,” he teased, to which you rolled your eyes. He took another sip, waving for you to continue.

“Do you ever ask yourself what the fuck you’re doing with your life?”

“All the time,” he chuckled. “It’s normal to ask that question. Think about it—we’re living, breathing humans that live on a rock floating through time and space.”

“Yes! Oh my god! I think about that all the time. Why do all of my problems seem so big in my little world? But compared to how big the world is, it seems silly, minuscule, and unimportant. I mean, the person walking down the street probably has bigger problems than me.”

“Mm, that could be true, but don’t minimize your hurt and feelings. It’s important to recognize and learn from those things and let them shape a better you.”

“Why get a shrink when all you need is ‘Min Yoongi’ in your life?” You finally take a sip of your drink, the ice already melting in place, the condensation pooling a rim on the napkin.

He chuckled at your joke. “I’m hardly a therapist. I’ve just—I’ve been where you are, and I’m sorry it sucks, but give it time. You’ll be okay.”

“But, like, how do you know that?”

“Well, I don’t,” he took a swig of his whiskey. “I mean, there aren’t many things in our control, but for the things that are, it’s important to do what we can. We can only manage what’s right in front of us. We don’t know what will happen tomorrow, next week, or three months from now. Just worry about what’s happening right here, right now. That’s all you can do, you know?”

You recognized the truth behind Yoongi’s words and wanted to believe it. You did. But it was always easier said than done. Maybe you just needed more time, time to find yourself again. Maybe find joy in the little things, in yourself, and become comfortable in your skin without the dissonance of your friends. This time in your life would be as good as any since you had nothing lined up for you, work-wise. There was no one to keep you here in Seoul. You could go anywhere if you wanted to. Would now be the right time to uproot your life and go wherever your heart desired?

Yoongi could see you pondering his words, maybe letting the reality of it all soak in. He chugged the last of his whiskey, setting the glass down. “Come on, let me take you home.”

You lifted your finger, ready to key in your apartment's code, before returning to Yoongi. “Do you wanna come in?”

He hesitated before answering, “I shouldn’t.”

“You’re not going to tuck me in; make sure I don’t drown in my vomit?” Yoongi snickers. “Sorry, I’m not in my right mind right now. You don’t have to come in.”

“You’re not gonna make this easy, are you?”

“I just gave you an out. You can leave if you want, but if you don’t hear from me tomorrow, will you be ready to live with that guilt if something happened to me?” You could’ve easily eliminated the last line but couldn’t help yourself. Let’s blame it on the alcohol for the sudden confidence.

Yoongi’s tongue darted out, licking his lips, the corners of his mouth curving into a smile. He nodded toward your door. “Come on. Let’s get you tucked in.”

“I just want to lay on a nice, warm beach. Or I guess I’ll try to dream of it tonight.”

Yoongi followed you into the bedroom and lunged forward to keep you standing straight before you plopped onto the bed. “I have a vacation home in Phuket if you ever need to get away from here.”

“You do?” Your eyes widen in delight, almost wanting to take up his offer.

“Yeah, Tae and Hyunie went there recently, and I’m only ever there occasionally. Feel free to use it if you’d like.”

“Is this the part where you plan to murder me, and no one will ever find my body?” you joke, referring to when he said he’d take you home the first night you met, even though you hardly knew him then.

“I think you’ve been watching one too many Law and Order episodes, huh?”

You shrug. “You can never be too careful, you know!”

Yoongi laughs. “If I wanted to murder you, I’d have done it already.”

“I don’t know. Maybe you’re waiting for the perfect moment. Like when I’m all vulnerable in my bed.” He shows off his gummy smile, a feature you’ve come to appreciate. “You should smile more often. You have a really pretty smile.”

He shook his head, letting out a soft chuckle as he turned away from you. Through the short time, he’s known you, you were never this honest with him.

You sigh. "Can I skip to the part where everything will be okay again?"

Yoongi kneeled by your bedside and flashed a closed-lipped smile before scanning over your features. Apparently, you were just full of questions tonight, but he didn’t mind. "Where you are now is not where you'll always be."

He seemed so positive and empathetic toward your situation, which you were grateful for. It's possible he was just being kind, but he had plenty more to say. He was almost like your personal fortune cookie, always ready with an answer.

"That's easy for you to say." You snuggled deeper into your fluffy pillow, pulling the duvet under your chin.

"Mm–yeah, it is," he chuckled. "Well, there's a high chance that the future you want never happens, and if you put too much meaning into it, it'll torment you."

“Gee, thanks,” you said dryly. 

“You know what I mean.”

You stick out your tongue in protest, pulling the duvet over your head. “Just say I’m being pathetic. I can handle it,” you lie, muffled through the sheets. You were one step away from losing your shit.

Yoongi cleared his throat, lifting the duvet so he could say goodbye. He could see the sadness in your eyes when you looked back at him, and he only knew what you were going through because Kim Taehyung had a big mouth and shared whatever details he knew about you and your ex-boyfriend. But he never wanted to press you further unless you wanted to share.

“Well, I’m gonna head out. It looks like you’re tucked in safely and not dying, so...”

He proceeded to stand, but you sat up, grabbing his hand, your hand lingering longer than usual. Your eyes focused on his plush lips, then you moved in, closing your eyes for a kiss, but he pulled away.

“I’m sorry.” He stood, taking another step toward the door. “You’re cool, but I don’t kiss people when they’re not sober.”

Your cheeks become warm, your gaze avoiding his. “I’m sorry. As you can probably tell, I’m not in the right mind frame, and I’m very susceptible to handsome men when they’re sweet.”

Yoongi flashed a thin smile. “It’s okay. I’ll pretend nothing happened,” he remarked, waving his hand again before leaving you alone in your bedroom.

When you heard the front door closed, you grabbed your pillow and screamed into it. Why was kissing someone always your answer when feeling shitty about yourself? At this point, Yoongi probably found you as foolish as one could be. He probably wondered how and why Hyunie and Taehyung continued to be friends with someone like you.

You set the pillow aside, sliding under your covers, thinking about the question you asked Yoongi earlier at the bar.

What the fuck are you doing with your life?

So much of your adulthood was spent trying to survive your childhood and the trauma that came with it, and as you became an adult, you hoped the person you had become would be the person you needed when you were a child. But in reality, you felt like an imposter. The adult version of you was trying her best to be what that little girl needed, though ultimately, you failed her.

You knew deep down inside that you needed to stop whatever this path of destruction was, stop blaming others, not wait to be rescued, and most of all, stop refusing to participate fully in life. You had friends who became like family to you, who loved you no matter what you did. Was that not enough?

Inevitably, you were aware that no one could save you but yourself. You’d spent your life stuck in this endless cycle that no one had created but yourself.

You stopped before you started. You gave up before you even attempted. You talked yourself out of it before you got into it.

In retrospect, you knew you were also at fault regarding Jungkook. You sabotaged your relationship because you couldn’t bear the pain. But what if you had tried and given everything, and it worked out?

But as Yoongi said, it’s better not to dwell on a future that may not happen. Otherwise, you’d continue this endless cycle of torment.

✨ a/n 3: so, how are we doing? how are we feeling? do we have any theories on what'll happen next? what do we think about yoongi? let me know (:

also! i still plan on doing the podcast episode, so start thinking of questions, comments, rambles/rants (:

✨ next ~ 17 ~ one year later

[ninamitoo]

VILLAIN WARRIOR MASTERLIST

BTS Jeon Jungkook x fem! reader

Hero Jungkook x Villain reader

Summary: all you want to know is why your parents were violently killed and why there was no proper investigation done. Odds are against you when a promising hero is willing to do everything in his power to put you behind bars.

Fic warnings: slow burn, depiction of violence, fighting and death, mention of power abuse, future smut, angs, emotional damage, commitment issues, trust issues, heavy themes and adult language, swearing, mention of masturbation, dark story?

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3 

chapter 4 coming soon

[bangtanxreader]

PLEASE send me more requests!!!