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wintrbears · 27 days ago

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Cradle Robbers: The First Trimester | JJK

Summary: Jungkook makes a proposition you can't don't want to refuse, and there are seemingly no consequences to your friendship at first, but then you miss you period and have to explain to all your loved ones how you got knocked up by your childhood best friend.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Pregnancy AU, Childhood Friends to FWB to Lovers, Slow-Burn, Smut, Fluff, Crack, Angst (barely, you have to squint to see it)

Word Count: 26k+

Warnings: unexpected pregnancy, fear, anxiety, crying, screaming, arguing, vomiting, cravings, drinking (not OC), mention of withdrawal, doctor's offices, ultrasounds, pregnancy tests, mentions of a break-up, pet names (bambi/bams, babygirl, baby), cats, dogs, wealth, sex in a movie, tickling, karaoke, medication, talk of childbirth, periods, birth control failure, video games, parental expectations. SMUT: kissing, unprotected sex (obviously), neck kissing, penetrative sex, missionary, dick riding, sideways/from behind, oral sex (both receiving), face riding, face fucking, cum swallowing, multiple orgasms, BIG DICK JK!!!, spanking, cream pie, titty sucking, pleasuring with underwear, ripping underwear, implication of sexual favors, hickies, soreness, aftercare, masturbation (f), cuddling, cock warming, alright I think that's all folks!

Author's Note: it's finally hereeee. this is the first of three parts for my new series and i'm so, so excited to share it with you guys! koo and bambi have my whole heart along with all their friends and family we meet. I know pregnancy fics aren't always the most loved, but I assure you this Jungkook is so worth it... he's tooth-rottingly sweet and soooo sexy! also, I linked the video of the boys performance bc it's too freaking good not to watch, so look out for that (and also ignore yoongi not actually being there lmao). please let me know what you guys think and/or any predications you have for the next chapter, the baby's name and/or gender, etc. I LOVE hearing what you guys have to say! OK ily bye :)

-> Cradle Robbers Masterpost

ZERO

The sound of some garbage eating rodent is the first thing you hear after kicking your apartment door open with the tip of your boot. Muscle memory brings your hand to the light switch, but you aren’t able to flip it up because the lights are already on. So, the rodent is big enough to reach that height… wonderful.

You toe your boots off and hang your coat up, tossing your keys in the old stolen ashtray you use to house them. When you round the corner, the familiar, lovable vermin is bent over as he rummages through your fridge.

It’s ridiculous, honestly, given that this particular species of rat earns quadruple your salary.

“Koo,” you get his attention.

“Hm?”

He doesn’t budge an inch when responding to the call of his nickname. Eyes rolling back, you stroll over and smack his ass as hard as you can.

“Yo!” Jungkook jerks up and just barely misses hitting his head on the refrigerator. “Take me to dinner first.”

“I am,” you reply. “You’re eating my food.”

Jungkook smiles innocently and squishes your cheeks with his fingers before shaking your head back and forth.

“And I’m so, so grateful,” he teases in a baby voice.

You swat his hand away, but the light in your eyes and the remnants of a smile on your face reveal your true feelings about his teasing.

This predicament is one of your own creation, since you gave Jungkook a key a while ago in case of emergencies. The issue is, an emergency for Jungkook can be your place being closer to the gym than his, and he needs a snack after his workout. In your mind, the purpose was so he can bring you chocolate ice cream on your period and take down intruders. He’s only done one of those things so far, and the intruder was a stray cat.

Falling to your couch with a soft thump, you groan and tilt your head back against the cushions. Today was egregiously long and definitely not worth the money it made you. The only upside is it’s Friday and you have two whole days to lounge around your apartment and do nothing at all.

Jungkook comes around the peninsula which separates your kitchen from your living room with a fresh bowl of instant ramen in his hands. He blows on the noodles for a second before slurping them into his mouth, all without noticing the glare you’re sending his way. His eyes crinkle when he sees you, letting you know he’s smiling, even though you can’t see his mouth behind the bowl.

“What’s with the face, Bambi?”

“You seriously didn’t think of making one for me?” You ask through a pout.

You finally see Jungkook’s smile when he lowers the bowl to place it on the peninsula. He looks proud, his head tilting as he chuckles to himself.

Then, you hear the microwave go off, and your glare quickly turns into a grin.

Jungkook grabs the second bowl from the microwave and sets it on the counter. You watch appreciatively as he rips open the sauce packet before putting it between his teeth and using his chopsticks to pour it all into the bowl. The crinkle of a cheese wrapper opening brings your eyebrows up your forehead in delight. He drops the orange square into the bowl and mixes everything together with the chopsticks before holding it out towards you.

“You gonna take that shit back now or what?”

You beam and giggle as you stand, practically skipping across the room so you can take the bowl of delicious noodles from him.

“Thank you,” you sing-song.

“Mmhmm.”

The two of you eat on your couch in a slurp filled ambiance. It’s an old, familiar scene and one you always appreciate even if you don’t say it outloud.

They say you choose your friends, but Jungkook was pretty much forced on you. Your mothers are college roommates who became best friends and later married another pair of best friends. The women proceeded to plot and plan accordingly so they would be pregnant together and their kids would be the same age. Unfortunately, your parents went off script by about six months, but you and Jungkook are still close enough in age to be in the same grade throughout school.

Even though your friendship was intricately planned long before your conception, you’re close of your own volition.

Jungkook is not only your best friend, but the most amazing person you know and probably in existence. You wouldn’t trade him for the world if it came down to it. In fact, if the zombie apocalypse ever happens, and somehow his death is the only way to find a cure, you will Joel Miller-style kill every single person who dares to try and take him from you. They can rip your dorky, caring, smart-ass best friend from your cold, dead hands. Everyone else can become zombies for all you care, everyone but him.

The sound of a bowl meeting the coffee table pulls your attention back to the man beside you. He kicks his feet up and stretches his arms above his head in relaxation. When the action reveals a sliver of skin from below the hem of his shirt, you use the opportunity to tickle him and laugh when he groans and folds into himself.

“Is this really the game you wanna play, Bams?” He speaks to the floor, still hunching over from your attack.

Bambi, or Bams for short, is the only name Jungkook calls you. Sometimes, you jokingly accuse him of forgetting your real name altogether, which then spurs him on to attempt “guessing” what it is. Ironically, neither of you nor your parents can recall the origin of the nickname. Like some strange Mandela effect, one day he started calling you by the Disney character’s name and never stopped.

If memory serves correctly, you think the last time you heard the syllables of your name leave his mouth was in fifth grade when he defended you against a clique of mean girls. Something along the lines of “leave my Y/N alone,” in his adorable kiddie Jungkook voice.

He’s certainly gone through some drastic changes since then. His voice now filters out in a deep, honey tone, he doesn’t use his bangs to conceal his starry eyes anymore, and he’s got you beat by a few inches in height. You’re different, too, mostly in the way you no longer need him to defend you on the playground. He still would, though, and he often tries on nights out when someone tries testing your patience.

Jungkook would never hurt a fly, but he’s got an entire sleeve of tattoos, multiple piercings, and broad shoulders, so he uses his outward appearance to his advantage and scares people away when necessary.

You don’t respond to his taunt, instead you slowly slide across the fabric of the couch, as quietly as you can so he doesn’t pick up on the movement. He, of course, notices right away, and a cheshire grin appears before your eyes.

Standing up like lightning, you make a break for your bedroom, but you only reach the back of the couch before his arms are clinching you by the waist.

“No!” You shout and kick the air as he tugs you back towards the furniture.

“You asked for this.”

“Koo, no!”

He drops you unceremoniously onto the cushions where you flail in an attempt to escape, but it’s futile because Jungkook is already bending down to tickle your sides. Hysterical laughter fills the space as his fingertips pitter-patter on your skin. Your best friend is ruthless as always, never halting his actions even as you squirm and swat at him to get away.

“Say you’re sorry, Bambi.”

“Jungkook, I’m gonna fucking pee my pants,” you threaten.

“Not my problem,” he responds.

You gasp and recoil when he starts tickling your neck, rendering you completely useless to do anything but suffer. Eventually, your brain returns from its momentary vacation and you find the will to fight back, grabbing his hands and pulling them away as you attempt to catch your breath. Jungkook’s smiling like the devil himself above you and you resist the urge to slap the smirk right off his handsome face.

This behavior is par for the course for you both, because you’re a brat who likes to test his limits, and he’s too competitive to let you have the last laugh.

Jungkook stands to his full height, smirk still intact, while you struggle to slow your jackrabbiting heart. He moseys over to your bookshelf to survey its contents, and once you’re sitting up again, you chuck a throw pillow across the room at him. It meets his back before pathetically falling to the floor. Jungkook doesn’t even flinch. He just shakes his head and tsks at your feeble attempt at payback.

His fingers trace over the items occupying your bookshelf before settling on a thin rectangle and removing it from its home.

“Movie night?”

He rests the corner of the DVD case against his head to show it off to you. You call him towards you with your hand so you can inspect the item for yourself. It houses a movie you haven’t seen in a long time, some low budget rom com with good sex scenes. Shrugging, you nod your head at him and watch as he goes to play the movie in your now ancient DVD player.

“I’ll go make popcorn,” you announce before standing and heading to the kitchen.

Jungkook plummets into the couch and grabs your fuzzy blanket to spread over his legs. When you return with a large bowl of popcorn to share, he lifts the blanket and readjusts it to cover your legs as well.

Neither of you pay much attention to the plot, too busy joking around when characters say stupid lines. You spend your time talking about your week and any plans for the upcoming weekend instead. Jungkook’s just finishing up his story about his boss accidentally unmuting himself on Teams when the first sex scene catches your attention. You both actually focus on the screen for the first time and Jungkook tilts his head while tonguing his cheek as the male character descends down the female character’s body and kisses her skin as he goes.

“Do you ever think about it?” He asks as he throws a kernel of popcorn into the air and catches it with his mouth.

“About what?” You look towards the screen. “Sex?” He nods and puts his arm behind you on the couch so he can face you. “Like, in general, or —”

“No, no,” Jungkook chuckles. “Like us.”

“Us?”

“Yeah, have you thought about us having sex?”

The popcorn in your mouth goes down the wrong tube when you choke in response to his question. You hit your chest once to help it descend your esophagus before reaching for your drink on the coffee table. The time it takes you to gulp down the fizzy beverage isn’t nearly enough for you to gather your thoughts.

“Koo, what the actual fuck,” you scold him.

“Is that a no?” He raises his eyebrows at you suggestively. “Because I know I have.”

“Ew, when?”

“It’s not often, just like, every once in a while,” he explains. “I just think it would be fun! This is not me making some grandstand announcement about how I’ve always wanted you or some shit.” He readjusts so his entire body faces you directly. “Listen, we’ve done everything together. Skydiving, parasailing, swimming with dolphins, stealing from the grocery store, sneaking into the movies, you name it. Doesn’t it make sense that we should do everything before we aren’t able to anymore?”

“You forced me to go skydiving, Jungkook.”

“That’s not the point, Bambi,” he playfully grits his teeth. “Eventually, we’re gonna settle down with our own partners and the window of opportunity will be gone. Why not try something new together while we still can?”

Your teeth hold your bottom lip captive as your mind processes his proposal. Truthfully, you have thought about it, same as him. Not in some romantic, storybook way, but just from a perspective of knowing he’s a handsome guy with a great build and it would probably be a fun night for both of you. This conversation scares the shit out of you, though. Thinking about it is one thing, but attempting to manifest it into reality is a whole other beast. The list of things that could go wrong is longer than a CVS receipt. Then again, you and Jungkook have been through everything together and you’ve always made it out on the other side.

“Koo, I don’t know…” you admit. “I love me some good casual sex with no feelings involved, but this is us we’re talking about.”

“Exactly!” He claps his hands together eagerly. “It’s us, probably the only two people in the whole world who nothing can come between.” Jungkook sighs and eats more popcorn from the bowl still in your lap. “I’m not trying to pressure you, Bams, I just really think we’d both have a great time. I mean, I’m hot, you’re hot, I’ve got a big dick, I’m sure your pussy is tight, what else could you want?”

You laugh at his reasoning, throwing your head back and holding the position as you blow air from your mouth. A couple anticipatory moments pass as your mind weighs the options. A large intake of air fills your lungs before you lift your head.

“Okay,” you murmur.

“Okay?”

“Okay, Koo.”

Jungkook giggles like a little kid, his feet stamping the ground repeatedly as he pumps his arms in excitement. Your laughter returns in response to his celebration, rolling your eyes affectionately at the familiar behavior of your childhood best friend.

“You said yes because I called you tight, is that it?”

Shaking your head, you push his shoulder back with your hand, using your other one to place the popcorn bowl on the coffee table. Jungkook’s eyes turn into big oases of black as his pupils dilate and conceal the normal chocolate color of his irises. You take your time straddling his thighs, your knees digging into the couch beside his hips.

“No,” you answer him. Making a show of flipping your hair over your shoulder and bending down until you’re face to face. You avoid his lips, which are pouting slightly, to place a kiss over the tiny mole on his neck. “I said yes because you said you have a big dick and now I need to find out if that’s true,” you whisper into his ear.

Your voice has a sultry edge you’ve never used in his presence before. Sitting back on your heels, you gaze at him with an innocent smile as you bat your eyelashes.

Jungkook’s look of surprise is long gone, his eyes sharpening until they’re a quarter of their normal size as he stares you down. The muscles in his jaw clench and the skin of his brow creases, his eyebrows nearly kissing. Your eyes catch the thick vein in his neck pulsing with adrenaline and it makes your thighs tingle.

He laughs incredulously, running a hand through his hair as he tongues his cheek.

“Alright, so we’re doing it this way,” he muses.

In an instant, Jungkook is grabbing your hips and slamming you down into his lap. You gasp and brace yourself on his shoulders. Your reaction brings a satisfied smirk to his face, and you have the urge to roll your eyes again, but then his fingers rake into your hair and he yanks the strands to expose your throat. A needy whine passes through your lips as your neck beckons him to give it attention. He places a single, gentle kiss to your pulse point before leaving you wanting. A second noise of complaint is about to leave you when Jungkook finally starts devouring your neck with his mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan quietly.

Jungkook chuckles melodiously against the wet spots he’s leaving on you. The feeling of his warm breath on your skin forms goosebumps across your arms and sends a shiver straight down your spine. His teeth are maiming your neck as he works diligently to paint you in pretty, purple bruises shaped like his mouth. Once the artwork appears before his eyes, he licks over the mark and kisses it before moving to conquer another spot.

Meanwhile, your hips spring into action and you start moving in languid circles across his lap. The initial plan is to keep the pressure of your movements teasingly light, but once you feel the apparent bulge forming in his pants, you can’t resist grinding down hard against his clothed cock.

Jungkook groans responsively and bites into your skin with his canines.

Soon enough, he ceases his assault on your neck so his lips can travel across your shoulder instead. His fingers push your shirt down your arm so he can kiss and lick your skin unimpeached. You moan loudly, the rhythm of your hips picking up in tempo as he seeks out every inch of exposed skin he can.

“Fuck, I could come in my fucking pants, Bams,” he whispers. “Please don’t stop.”

His words only motivate you to push your hips into him harder. He groans again and nods his head approvingly. You agree with him internally, the friction from your underwear rubbing against your clit steadily sending you into a frenzy.

“So good, Koo.”

Jungkook hums and leans back to appreciate the portrait of his lips he’s left on you. His fingertips gently trace over the hickies and he wears a proud smile as he turns your head back and forth to examine his work.

“You look so pretty, all marked up,” he praises.

Pushing him down by his shoulders, you grab his face with both hands to kiss him. There’s an electric shock when your lips meet for the first time, but you aren’t sure if it’s only in your head or if he felt it, too.

The kiss is anything but romantic. Within seconds you’re licking into his mouth and chasing his tongue while his teeth pull at your bottom lip. Jungkook moans and his fingers press down against your scalp. Tilting your head, you kiss him like he’s your only source of oxygen. Your body and mind are in overdrive, your thighs twitching with need and you need his lips to bring you back down to earth.

He tastes sweet like the cola he was drinking and it makes your head spin. The pretty, pink, doll lips you’ve always admired are magical in the way they move. Jungkook has you trapped between his mouth and the hand on your head, but you don’t mind when he’s kissing you until your mind blanks.

It's a scramble of fingers and hands as you undress one another as fast as humanly possible. His warm hands brush against your stomach as he lifts your top over your head. You feel his abs beneath your fingers when you tug off his shirt. Jungkook accidentally pinches your skin when unhooking your bra and you don’t even notice, too busy kissing him like your life depends on it.

When Jungkook sees your tits for the first time, he fucking loses it. His head hits the arm of the couch as it falls back, and the growl that comes from deep within his throat is fucking demonic.

“God, you are so fucking hot,” he declares.

You’re unable to respond because he’s already wrapping his mouth around your nipple and tweaking the other with his fingers, forcing the air from your lungs instantaneously. Jungkook’s tongue circles your nipple a couple times before he sucks the erect nub into his mouth, keeping the same pace with his fingers on your other breast.

The moans coming from you are unrecognizable in comparison to your normal timbre, and they only grow in volume when Jungkook switches sides and repeats his debilitating ministrations.

Lacing your fingers through his black strands, you pull his face away from your chest to see his eyes. He barely looks like himself anymore, a scorching fire behind his usual soft gaze. The image lights you up inside, and you kiss him again hard enough that he tumbles back into the couch cushions and brings you along with him.

His hands explore the smooth skin of your back and shoulders, massaging you with his big hands as he traverses across the previously uncharted territory.

“You’re so sexy, Jungkook,” you tell him as you kiss his jaw. “Everything about you.”

His skin is searing hot and flushed red, the tint going all the way down his neck and chest. You take your time moving across his jawline and throat, sucking just below his ear and letting your tongue trace the perimeter of his earlobe. Descending down his torso, you kiss his collarbones and pecs while digging your nails into his abs, your ample attempt at showing him exactly what you mean by your comment.

“Need you, Bambi, so fucking bad,” he whines.

The only acknowledgment you give him is by looking up with a devilish smirk before your hands start to unbutton his jeans. You pull them down just enough to reveal his boxers and hold his eye contact while you kiss the fabric covering his cock. Jungkook’s hips twitch and his eyes squeeze shut, an undeniably sexy groan leaving him. Your hands caress his thighs while you mouth at his boxers and you can feel him getting harder with each press of your lips.

He hurries to pull his pants down the rest of the way while you hook your fingers into the waistband of his boxers. When you tease him by letting them snap against his hips, he hisses and you see his Adam's apple bob. His hips buck towards your face desperately, making you snicker at his attempt to create friction.

“Patience, Koo,” you tease him. Jungkook grits his teeth at your taunt, but only a second later the tension seeps from his body when you reach into his boxers and palm him. “Let’s see if you were exaggerating or not, hmm?”

Once his boxers are gone, you realize he was, in fact, under exaggerating. He knows it, too, because when you glance up, he’s smirking with pride, one corner of his mouth higher than the other.

“Whaddaya think?”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“How about you see how much that pretty mouth of yours can take?”

One thing about you and Jungkook is you're both competitive as hell, and you’ll be damned if his whole dick isn’t situated down your throat soon just to prove a point.

Gathering spit in your mouth, you lean directly over his hard cock and let it slowly fall from your lips to his head. You wait for the sound of Jungkook moaning before doing it again, this time actually spitting instead of letting it drip down. Your hand gathers the saliva to spread it over his head and down his shaft. Your best friend is panting above you as he studies the way you work his cock with your hand.

Jungkook is stupid fucking big, and you genuinely fear he’ll split you in half when you fuck. Not only is his dick long, but it’s so thick your fingertips don’t touch when you grasp him. He’s rock hard and throbbing in your hold and there’s a perfect bead of precum just waiting for you to lick.

When you do, Jungkook cries out in pleasure and it's hands down the sexiest sound you’ve ever heard. He’s always been the tough one between you, and having him like puddy in your hands is more satisfying than you care to admit.

Your tongue flattens over his slit and you groan at the taste of his cum, your mouth already watering at the thought of more coming your way. You lick around his head in one long stroke and then circle your tongue just under the sensitive ridge. Jungkook whines at the feeling of your tongue on his aching dick. Your hand is still using your self-made lubricant to glide up and down his shaft.

“Bams, fuck,” Jungkook pants the words across staccato exhales.

It’s nearly impossible for you to say no to the man begging for your mouth, so you finally end your teasing and take him between your lips. You suckle on his head and let more saliva drip down his shaft before removing your hand to focus solely on the movements of your mouth. Your hands hold onto his muscular thighs as you finally take him deeper into your throat.

It definitely takes time for your lips and throat to adjust to his size. Each time you slide down his cock you take more of him into your mouth until your nose hits his pelvis. You breathe through your nose and stay there for a moment, swallowing and moaning around him.

“Oh, shit.” Jungkook looks down at you in awe, watching in wonder at the way your lips stretch around his cock. “Bambi, holy fucking shit.”

The chuckle you release sends vibrations around Jungkook’s dick and his hips buck up responsively. You moan again and squeeze his thighs, attempting to send a message that he’s free to repeat the action. He must interpret your message accurately because you feel him forming your hair into a makeshift ponytail and thrusting his hips up.

Jungkook would never want to hurt you, so even though his body is screaming at him to animalisticaly fuck your mouth, his thrusts are shallow and modest.

Even so, his strokes make you gag every time his tip hits the back of your throat. He’s pulling on your hair and the sensation of being used like a sex toy makes your eyes roll back. Tears form and roll down to meet the drool that’s leaking from your mouth. Breathing through your nose, you suck harder to make a tighter fit for him. He’s appreciative, growling and yanking on your hair as a thank you.

“Shit, I’m gonna come,” he warns you. Hearing his words, you massage his heavy balls in your hand to push him over the edge. A broken moan comes from above you and his hips start to lose their cadence as his orgasm nears. “Can I… your throat…”

His words are clipped, but you understand and squeeze his thigh to give him permission. Within a single moment you start tasting his cum at the back of your throat. Moaning endlessly at how good he tastes, you move your lips up and down his cock as he comes, swallowing his seed and licking him clean at the same time.

When you’re certain you’ve stolen every last drop and sucked him dry, you come up for air with a harsh gasp.

“Holy fuck,” you curse and massage your jaw.

Jungkook grabs your chin with his hand and makes you look at him so he can see that you’re alright. You nod assuredly and sit back on your heels.

“That was, on God, the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Jungkook states.

You laugh and shove his chest, but he snatches your hand and pulls you towards him. He kisses you like he fucking means it, grabbing the side of your face so you can’t move an inch. Your moans meet in each other’s mouths as Jungkook sucks on your tongue to taste himself.

“Can we move this party to the bedroom?”

Jungkook nods, his hand still caressing your face, before helping you up so you can both head to your room at the back of the apartment. When the door opens, your grey munchkin cat scurries out from behind the door.

“Oh, Usagi, I forgot you were in there,” you say as she bolts for her scratching post.

“Probably a good thing,” Jungkook notes, his eyes gesturing down to his dick still on display.

You chuckle and grab his hand to lead him into the room before shutting the door behind you. He immediately takes a seat on the bed while you stay standing to pull your pants down your legs.

Jungkook’s eyes trace the movement, his pupils blowing even wider when he sees your black lace panties and the evident wet spot on them. Reaching his hand out, you take it and stand between his legs. Your hands push his hair back, scratching at his scalp to hear the pretty moan that accompanies the movement.

He leans forward and kisses your abdomen, just above your panties. You sigh as his lips traverse the expanse of your stomach and hips, leaving a hot, wet trail in their wake.

“Koo, need you,” you whimper.

The feeling of his teeth sinking into the skin of your waist makes you jump, but then he soothes the ache with his tongue.

“You know, since you made me come already, I’m going to have to fuck you in other ways until I’m ready to go again,” he states. You hum in acknowledgment and he rests his chin against you to gaze upwards. “You gonna be able to handle that, Bams?”

“Don’t go making promises you can’t keep.”

Jungkook scoffs and turns you around, slapping your ass harshly before pulling you down into his lap. You yelp at the sudden change in position, but the feeling of his warm chest on your back makes you melt into his embrace.

“Do you even know me at all, Bams?” He scoffs again. “How many orgasms have you had in one night before?”

“Like… three?”

“Pussy fucking numbers,” he snaps. “We’re aiming for double digits here.”

“Jungkook!” You look over your shoulder at him in shock, but his facial expression is completely serious. “You’re joking.”

“No, I’m really fucking not.”

“I’ll die.”

Jungkook just shakes his head disapprovingly and licks his lips. He grabs your jaw to turn your head, his hand diving into your hair again to hold you in place so he can ravish your mouth. His kiss has you completely hypnotized and you barely remember the conversation you were just having.

“How about we compromise and aim for five?” He suggests.

You want to kiss him too badly to muster a response, so you just hum in affirmation before turning around and bringing his lips to yours. He pulls you into him as he falls back onto the bed. Your legs return to their position on either side of his muscular thighs, and your lips work earnestly to kiss every inch of his face and jaw until they reach his neck.

Your clothed cunt grinds over his dick as you mark him with a matching bruise to your own, the friction created by your panties making you groan. You continue to lick and torment the delicate skin of his neck while he guides your movements with his hands.

All too soon, Jungkook stops you by grabbing your shoulder and you eye him curiously. His eyes flit around the features of your face for a minute. When he smiles in satisfaction, you know he’s got a tantalizing idea for how he’s going to make you come.

“Sit on my face,” he commands.

You don’t need to be told twice to get your pussy ate.

Jungkook moves to the center of the bed and taps his chest to beckon you over. Bending to remove your panties, you look up in surprise when Jungkook halts your actions by grabbing your wrist.

“How expensive were those?” He asks.

“$20 maybe.”

“Leave ‘em on, I’ll buy you new ones.”

Sometimes you conveniently forget your best friend is rich until moments like these when he reminds you.

When you and Jungkook were in college he coded and designed an entire video game in his spare time, because he’s a freaking genius, and then he sold said video game for millions of dollars. Now he works as a lead designer at the biggest video game company in the country and consistently makes six figures.

Jungkook has a huge dick and an even bigger bank account, and here you thought God made everyone equal.

Shrugging at his instruction, you do as he says and climb onto the bed. As tactfully as possible, you maneuver your legs around Jungkook’s head and sit up on your knees so your core is a few inches above his mouth. His hands hold your hips and he takes the time to trace over your curves while looking up at your pussy slowly soaking the lace of your underwear.

After several long moments of eager anticipation, he yanks you down by your thighs until the tip of his nose is tickling you. Your head tips back as you sigh, the feeling of his nose rubbing against your clit through your underwear satiating the craving for his touch. He presses a few chaste kisses to the black fabric as he nuzzles his nose into your cunt to give you more friction. You grip his hair beneath you as he continues to tease you with featherlight touches of his nose and mouth.

“Koo, don’t,” you beg.

His only reply is a hum and you feel the vibrations from it against your core. Then he bites at your underwear to give him access to your pussy before licking you from bottom to top. The fabric sinks between your folds as Jungkook’s tongue presses the panties into you and the friction feels unbelievable on your clit.

Your hand yanks on his hair in appreciation as he continues to eat you out and use your sopping wet panties to pleasure you.

Once he’s ready for more, his hands move towards your cunt and a loud ripping sound permeates the air. You gasp when you feel him throw your torn panties to the side before forcing your pussy down harder on his face. He collects all the essence you’re leaking with an erotic slurping sound. His tongue slides through your folds and fucks into your hole while his nose continues to apply pressure to your clit.

“Holy shit, Jungkook.”

He laughs against your pussy and slows down just enough so you can hear him.

“You haven’t seen anything yet, Bams.”

Your free hand claws at the bed frame haphazardly as he eats you like it’s his goddamn job. He kisses your cunt messily, spitting into it and smearing your cum around his face along with his own salvia. His tongue travels up to your clit and the pure, unadulterated pleasure makes you scream. When he flattens the muscle against your sensitive nub you swear you’ll fall over, but his hands on your thighs are still holding you steady above him.

“Koo, holy fuck.” Your head tips back and your nails bite into the fabric of the headboard. “Make me come, please.”

Jungkook moans responsively beneath you and dives in even deeper, licking you menacingly without reprieve while guiding your hips to ride his face. You take the hint and begin moving your hips on your own, letting your pussy press against all the outlines of his face as his tongue laps up your juices.

He returns to your clit again and scrapes his teeth against it, causing tears to escape from your waterline as you whimper. Soothing the ache of his bite with his tongue, he slows to a tortuous pace as he kitten licks you for a while. You’re crying continuously now, your hips desperately seeking anything they can get as you move across his face in an erratic rhythm. Jungkook takes pity on you and finally sucks your clit into his mouth before moaning so he can send you right over the edge.

Your hand sinks further into Jungkook’s hair and your nails scratch his scalp as you come all over his face. The bedframe rocks from how hard you’re holding on while your legs shake from the force of your orgasm. Absolute, unbridled euphoria moves through you and makes your eyes roll back.

Jungkook continues to lick your cunt until you jump from the oversensitivity and move away from his face. You hear a disappointed groan as you crash onto the bed beside him.

“You taste so fucking good, Bams,” he tells you. “I could do that all fucking night.”

Chest swelling with pride, you’re about to reply when you feel something against your back and frown in confusion. The scratchy material rubs awkwardly against you and you bend away from it to grab it.

Your soaked, ripped panties dangle from your fingers as you click your tongue and throw them into the trash can.

“You’re a fucking gremlin,” you note.

Jungkook doesn’t respond to your statement, he just maintains eye contact while moving to kneel before pulling you closer by the waist. The pretty vision of him above you makes your breath hitch.

His hand travels ostentatiously from your neck all the way down to your hip, lighting an internal fire within you wherever his touch goes. You wait with bated breath as his fingers dance across your skin until they reach your center. Jungkook deliberately teases you, his fingertips just barely touching your clit before moving away again.

You hiss and grab his wrist so his hand can’t move towards your pussy again.

“What?” Jungkook smiles down at you with a tilt of his head. “You’re not ready for more yet? We’re only at one of five, Bambi, we’ve got a lot more work to do.” He twists his hand out of your hold and presses down on your clit. You whimper and silently beg him with your eyes. “Plus, I’m an overachiever, so you know five is really going to be more like seven.”

“Seven?”

“Ilgop.”

“Fuck, don’t speak Korean to me right now. You know how hot it gets me.”

Jungkook giggles, his head falling into the crook of your neck. You smile at the sound and run your fingers through his hair.

He takes the opportunity to kiss your neck, and you instinctively lean your head away to give him more of you. His lips caress you gently for a while, but then he growls against your throat and grabs your jaw to hold you still. Your gasp settles into a moan and Jungkook takes it as a cue to continue playing with your pussy. His fingers circle your clit and your noises become even needier. He dips into your folds to collect your cum so he can rub over your nerve endings and it nearly expels all the air from your lungs.

Jungkook touches you like he’s done it a million times already and that thought alone leaves you breathless.

“Koo, baby, please,” you whimper in a tone even you don’t recognize. Jungkook’s big, boba eyes are back when he captures your gaze to wordlessly ask what you’re begging him for. “I don’t want to come. I want you.”

A dazzling smile appears on Jungkook’s lips, and a pretty, pink blush spreads across his cheeks and turns the tips of his ears red.

“Alright, Bambi,” he responds with a peck. “Condom?”

You shake your head, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him in for more kisses.

“I’m on birth control.”

Jungkook kisses you again before you can do so yourself.

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” you nod against his lips. “Want you raw, Koo.”

“Fuck,” Jungkook chuckles. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Jungkook goes to pump his cock with his hand, but before he has the chance, you bring his palm to your lips and spit into it. He groans, his eyes rolling back, as he reaches down and uses your spit to fuck his hand.

Your eyes follow the movement of his wrist jerking himself off. It’s honestly mouthwatering to watch his thick cockhead push past his fingers as he gets himself hard again for you.

He kisses your shoulder and collarbone, then licks up your neck until he reaches your ear. His teeth softly sink into the cartilage.

“You ready for me, Bams?”

His deep voice melts your insides into goo and forces your brain into another frequency. Everything is static except for the feeling of his body hovering above yours.

All you do is nod your head in response to his question.

Jungkook’s tip pushes past your tight circle of nerves and already you feel too full to function. A wanton gasp and whimper follow the intrusion as he slowly enters you for the first time. Your nails create crescents on his shoulders as you inhale through your nose to relieve the pressure in your core.

“Koo… you’re so fucking big,” you whine.

“I know, I know,” he chuckles.

He kisses your temple appreciatively.

By the time his entire cock is deep within your walls, his pelvis pressing against your own, you already feel yourself losing it. Jungkook fills you up completely, and you can barely bring yourself to exhale the air you’re holding in.

“Fuck, Bambi, are you a virgin or some shit?”

“You know damn well I’m not a virgin,” you grit.

Jungkook groans deeply as his head falls forward and his hair tickles your cheeks when he shakes his head in disbelief.

“Then what the fuck are you so fucking tight for?”

You loudly hum and pretend to think it over before glancing at him with a sultry tilt of your head.

“I think my pussy’s just that good,” you say. Pulling his face down so it’s only centimeters away, you let your lips brush for a split second before replying. “And it’s all yours, Jungkook. So fuck me like you mean it.”

Jungkook rears back and ferociously thrusts into you before your next breath can even exit your lungs.

“Oh, fuck!”

A sinister chuckle comes from your best friend.

“Be careful what you wish for.”

Any semblance of control is forcefully taken away when Jungkook grabs your hands and slams them into the mattress above your head. Simultaneously, he begins pumping his cock into you at a disastrous pace and you can’t do anything but incoherently moan.

There’s no adjustment period, no slow-moving start. Jungkook is already fucking you like a goddamn ragdoll made solely for his pleasure.

“Koo, oh my fucking God,” you cry. It’s barely been a minute and hot, salty tears are already streaming down your face.

Jungkook kisses you and his moans filter into your mouth. His grip on your hands is bruising and it makes you whimper pathetically against his lips.

“Jungkook,” you sob as he abuses your pussy.

“Shh, shh.” He kisses you gently. “You can take it.” He kisses your cheek and up the side of your face. “I got you, Bams.”

You keen and your hands clasp around Jungkook’s in an effort to protect whatever’s left of your sanity.

His cock is buried in your pussy but you swear you feel yourself choking on him in your throat. Everytime his tip kisses your cervix you fear being split in two and yet there’s nothing you want more than for him to continue. You want him to rip you in half if it means feeling this full. He’s combining his strokes with a grind of his hips and it makes your cunt greedy for him, sucking him inside and squeezing his cock so he’ll never leave again.

Jungkook is throbbing and scorching hot inside you and the heat travels from your pussy throughout your entire body, lighting a fire in your bones and between your muscles that only he has the ability to stifle.

Your senses are amped up to ten and you scream over how deep he’s sending his dick into you.

The fire escapes externally when Jungkook releases your hands to explore your body instead. They travel down your entire outline until they find your hips and he tilts them upwards to create a new angle.

“Fuck, I always knew your pussy would feel this good,” he grunts. “You’re a fucking dream.”

The combination of the closer angle and Jungkook’s praises genuinely turns you to ruins, scattering pieces of your soul around and covering them in ivy. You kiss him again even though you know there’s no use, you’re shattered already. You devour his mouth, responding to his compliment through the movement of your lips instead of the words your body can’t produce at the moment.

Your fingers tilt his head so you can mouth at his sharp jaw, letting your tongue slide across his skin as he growls in your ear. Alternating between biting and kissing, you soak his honey skin in your spit and listen for the moans coming from deep within his chest.

“You feel so good, Koo,” you whisper into his ear. “Your cock fills me up so fucking well.”

“Shit,” he grunts. Jungkook grabs your thighs and pulls them up higher until you’re practically bent in half, your knees next to his shoulders. “So fucking good. You take me like a fucking champ, Bambi.”

Jungkook slows his pace by a hair, but only so he can thrust into you harder. Each clap of your skin connecting pulls a pornographic moan from your throat. You feel his balls slapping against your ass and the way your bodies are pressing together adds just the right amount of pressure on your clit.

It makes for a mind boggling combination that has your brain disintegrating into nothingness.

Your next orgasm is looming just around the corner. It builds inside you like a rollercoaster slowly moving up the track. Jungkook ups his pace again when he feels the telltale signs of your cunt pulsing and tightening around him like a vice.

“Cream my cock, Bams,” he commands. “C’mon, beautiful.”

A splintering gasp chokes you as you obey and come around his dick, coating his entire shaft in white essence.

The climax is brain chemistry altering. It feels as though your blood is ablaze and your heart can’t beat fast enough to push it through your body. Your legs clamp around his waist as they shake and convulse from the pleasure. All the while, Jungkook continues fucking his cock into your hole and sending you straight into oversensitivity subspace.

You’re still catching your breath when you grab Jungkook tightly by the shoulder to halt his movements. He looks at you with curious eyes, but he doesn’t completely stop, just slows down significantly and thrusts shallowly into you.

“Wanna ride you, Koo,” you tell him. “Wanna make you come so you can stuff me and watch it drip out.”

Jungkook closes his eyes, his teeth grinding together.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you can’t just say shit like that and expect me not to bust!”

You laugh mischievously as he grabs you by the waist to flip you both over. Your bodies are only parted for a mere moment before you’re sinking back down onto his dick and scratching at his pecs with your nails.

“Oh my God, I didn’t think it was possible for you to reach any further inside me,” you note.

“Of course, Bambi, gonna rearrange your fucking guts,” Jungkook proudly states.

It’s disturbing how exciting the thought of that is.

The rhythm of your hips is nowhere near as monstrous, letting his cock slowly leave your cunt before feeling him fill you up again one inch at a time. Using his chest to stabilize yourself, your thighs work religiously to bounce and fuck yourself on him. You look towards the ceiling, a groan rising from your throat due to his thick cock pressing against your walls and hitting just the right spot inside you.

Jungkook reaches up to play with your tits dangling over his face, massaging them in his big hands before pushing them together. His fingers pinch your nipples until they’re pebbled and stiff. He leans forward to take one into his mouth and you have to grab onto his hair for support.

He smacks your ass and you yelp, but you understand the message he’s trying to send and pick up the pace. You push him back down and lean over so your hard nipples are pressing against the heat of his chest.

“Atta girl,” he praises with another stinging slap of his hand on your ass. His digits make a home in your hair again and he uses the leverage to force you to stare into his eyes. “Pussy s’fucking good, Bams.” Jungkook kisses across your neck torturously slow before speaking again. “So fucking tight, warm, wet… could stay in here for-fucking-ever.”

“Koo,” you whisper breathlessly.

Your hips swivel in desperation to send his dick as deep as it can go, honestly hoping your guts do part for him so his cock can nestle permanently inside you.

“You gonna come again?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Good,” he speaks into your ear. “Come on my big, fat cock, babygirl.”

The moan you let out is the most humiliating sound to ever come from your body.

Luckily, no more are able to escape because Jungkook kisses you senseless. His tongue shoves into your mouth and licks around your own as you bounce on him as fast as your thighs will allow. He perpetuates your efforts by grasping your hips and rolling his own against you. It creates the perfect amount of friction on your clit and sends you tumbling into a pool of ecstasy.

“Fuck, Jungkook!”

You weep over the intensity of your orgasm while he continues kissing you. Not wanting to lose an ounce of momentum, Jungkook takes over for you as your orgasm paralyzes your mind.

He fucks you relentlessly to bring about his own climax and the sound of your skin clapping together is so loud you worry it will shake your doorframe and alert the neighbors.

“Gonna fill you up, Bams,” he warns you.

He thrusts hard once, twice, sending his cock so deep you swear you see your stomach bulge, and then he grunts and a strangled cry breaks from his lips as he paints your pussy with his cum.

The heat of it makes your eyes roll into your skull.

You kiss him through the come down, slowly traversing across the bottom half of his face and scraping his jaw with your teeth. He moans weakly, the hand still in your hair moving down to your neck and squeezing it affectionately. You make out as he goes flaccid within you, the mixture of your juices slowly dripping out and soaking your thighs.

Jungkook grabs your ass in both hands and massages the fatty flesh like he owns it, giving you one final spank to tint your skin red in the shape of his hand.

“Jungkook,” you mumble against his lips. “That was s’fucking good.”

A prideful chuckle meets your ears as Jungkook rests his head against the pillows to gaze up at you.

“Yeah? Told you we’d have fun,” he brags.

Lifting yourself off of him, you curse at the sticky mess between your legs. In one motion, you swing your leg over Jungkook’s thighs and fall down next to him with a bounce. You’ll worry about the sheets being drenched in the morning.

Jungkook grabs your hand and kisses your knuckles before holding it against his heart thumping wildly in his chest.

“Thanks for trying something new with me, Bams,” he says sincerely.

Your eyes meet with twin smiles. Running your fingers through his hair, you tuck a piece behind his ear and lean in to give him a final peck of gratitude.

It takes a minute for your body to stop screaming at you so you can stand. When you head for the bathroom, Usagi meows angrily from her spot just beyond the door. You coo at her and bend down to scratch under her chin.

“I’m sowwy, baby,” you apologize to the little creature.

She saunters right past you to hop on the bed and curl up next to Jungkook who’s covering his bare body with your comforter. His eyes light up when he sees her approaching and he bends down to kiss her little head repeatedly until she meows at him to stop.

You return from the bathroom in a large sleep shirt fresh from the dryer and toss a pair of equally fresh sweats to Jungkook. Both items are originally his, anyway.

He eyes you knowingly when he clocks the familiar article of clothing. His tongue clicks with a single shake of his head before he’s slipping the pants on and securing them around his hips.

“You want me to sleep on the couch like usual?” He asks with his arms behind his head.

You scoff affectionately.

“You already look pretty comfortable right there, Koo,” you retort.

“Oh, I am.” He pets Usagi dramatically as she purrs. “And Usagi wants me here, you can’t so no to her!”

“You’re right, I can’t.”

Jungkook lifts the covers so you can join him in the snuggle puddle he and your cat are partaking in. You make yourself comfortable beneath the sheets and he mirrors you, much to Usagi’s chagrin since she’s sequestered to the foot of the bed to accommodate the extra body.

It takes you all of thirty seconds to fall asleep once your head hits the pillow, and Jungkook is already halfway into dreamland himself when you do.

You wake with a pounding headache and unbelievably sore thighs. Groaning at the aches and pains, you leave your bed and attempt to walk normally even though you feel like you got fucked by a semitruck instead of your best friend. It’s a mess of stumbling feet and running into furniture corners as you groggily head to the kitchen for some pain pills.

Grabbing some for Jungkook after swallowing your own, you head back and set them along with a water bottle on your nightstand for when he wakes up.

The smell of breakfast must coax Jungkook back into the land of the living because he stumbles out from your bedroom soon after it’s ready. You laugh at the way his hair sticks up in a million directions and his eyes barely open.

“Morning, sunshine,” you sing-song.

He only greets you with a wave as he heads towards your bathroom.

When he emerges again he looks slightly more put together, at least, you can see his big, brown eyes again as he makes his way to you.

“Morning,” he says.

“Brekkie?”

You push a plate of assorted breakfast food towards him before turning around to place your own in the sink. He eats with that lovable scowl on his face which indicates you successfully cooked him a worthwhile meal.

Neither of you bring up the events which took place last night because you don’t need to, there’s no unspoken tension or uncomfortable vibes floating around. Jungkook was right when he said nothing can come between you, and as fun as it was, now everything just goes back to normal.

It does not stay normal for long.

ONE

Women are beautiful, complex, intricate beings, whose bodies and minds can do extraordinary things. Women can move mountains when they strive to and you’re proud to call yourself one.

Simultaneously, they can be dumbasses who can’t remember when their last period was.

While sitting at your desk typing up a bullshit report for some bullshit exec who can’t be bothered to read his own emails, you open the drawer on your left. It houses all your office essentials like pens, tape, paper clips, and tampons.

Your head tilts as you examine the colorful packaging you haven’t seen in a while. There seems to be a lot of them, especially since you usually run out and have to restock halfway through hell week.

Glancing up at your calendar, you count the weeks backwards and then flip it one month prior to check the exact date.

You laugh aloud to yourself, because, surely, you just forgot to mark the calendar like you always do and you don’t remember restocking the tampons after your period ended. That must be the case because there’s no way in hell you’re two weeks late. It’s simply an impossibility and abundantly more plausible that your memory is failing you rather than your body.

The skin of your lower lip is bitten raw as your eyes flit between the calendar and the menstrual products which are both staring into your soul. If they could speak, you think they’d be saying “we know what you did.”

Pushing away from your desk, you take a deep breath and decide the best course of action is to walk around the office.

Maybe seeing the inside of a bathroom stall will jog your memory of the last time you were bleeding, or passing by the kitchen will force you to recall when you last grabbed some extra candies from the community bowl.

It’s all for nought. Your excursion around the building is an utter failure, and suddenly the walls of the office feel as though they’re closing in on you.

Deciding to head home after lunch because you can’t focus anyway, you stop at the corner store by your house and grip your purse strap to stop your hands from shaking as you enter the women’s health aisle. The hundreds of pregnancy tests glare at you from their place on the shelf and you have to sink your teeth into your battered lower lip again to stop anxious tears from forming.

This must be some horrible nightmare, you tell yourself. You’re gonna wake up and realize you fell asleep at your desk because your job is just that boring. The sharp pinch you apply to your arm forces you to stop lying to yourself.

Groaning in frustration, you analyze both the brands and prices of the demonic little fortune tellers and choose two each from multiple different brands because you need to be real fucking sure.

You’re two years shy of thirty and you still feel like you’re having a teen pregnancy scare.

The woman behind the counter is smiling as she places the tests into a bag. It’s probably because she believes you’ll be ecstatic about a positive result and run straight home to tell your husband. Most women your age would be doing so, but you don’t have a husband, you have a childhood best friend who you decided to hook up with for funsies.

The abundant traffic you hit on the way home only makes your swirling whirlpool of nerves worse, and by the time you’re unlocking your apartment door and rushing to the bathroom, your lip is bleeding from how much skin you’ve ripped.

You bought six tests, like a crazy person, and so it takes a couple minutes for you to successfully pee on all of them and place them on the counter with their caps on. Setting your phone timer for three minutes, you sit on the toilet seat to wait the eternity of 180 seconds.

The anticipation eats away at your insides like sulfuric acid, and your leg bounces forcefully as though you’re going through withdrawal.

Your mind is somersaulting over itself and flopping on the ground like a fish out of water as you wonder how this is even possible. You’re on birth control, and you checked your pills before leaving work; you didn’t miss a single one.

There’s always the horror stories about the unlucky .01% of women whose contraceptives fail due to stress or poor health, but you don’t think that applies to you. Sure, you don’t join Jungkook at the gym, and work makes you wanna pull your hair out, but you feel great most days.

The timer derails your train of thought with an incessant buzz. Glancing at the counter, you reach for one of the tests with shaking hands as you pray for the right result.

Once you find the courage to actually look, your heart stops, and when you stand to see your plethora of pregnancy tests side by side, your eyes bulge from your skull.

Staring back at you like the fates themselves are three matching sets of a plus sign, two parallel lines, and the word “pregnant.”

Hands slapping against your mouth, you gasp into your palms as reality forces its way into the bathroom with you. Your eyes squeeze shut as tears break from the confines of your waterline. You shake your head a couple times, trying to get your mind files back into their rightful places. It doesn’t work, and all the papers which make up your consciousness go flying all over the place.

The cacophony of emotions on top of your disembodied mind forces your senses to scramble and discombobulate.

You’re scared, worried, sad, confused, and shocked, but somewhere inside you’re happy, too. Being a mom is a huge dream of yours and even if it’s unexpected, it’s still a dream come true.

Unfortunately, happiness is the lowest emotion on the totem pole, and your negative emotions are much closer to the surface.

Running your hands down your face, you gaze at the tests as a sob shakes through you. You brace your hands on the counter and allow yourself to cry through all of the emotions. The heavy tears drop into the sink below you one by one as you decide what to do next.

First things first, you have to tell the baby’s father.

“Fuck, he’s gonna fucking kill me.” Tipping your head back to send the loose tears back from whence they came, you blow air from your mouth and close your eyes. “He’s gonna hate me. He’s gonna lose his shit and never wanna see me again and I’m gonna —” A sob slices through your windpipe and causes your voice to break. “I’m gonna lose him.”

You hug your knees and let yourself freefall until your butt meets the tile. The floor is cold and your muscles ache from the force of your crash into the ground, but it serves as a momentary distraction from your mental anguish. The sound of your sorrow fills the space as you take heaving breaths and soak your jeans with tears. Usagi scratches at the door and the sound of her little paws calling for you breaks your heart.

Stretching towards the door, you reach and turn the doorknob just enough for it to open.

You watch fondly as your cat’s little legs carry her to your side. When she reaches you, she jumps into your lap and curls into an adorable ball of love. Fresh tears fall over the sweet affection she’s giving you, and you bend down to kiss her and rub your face in her fur.

“You’re gonna be a big sister, Usagi,” you tell her.

Eventually, you calm down enough to stand and find your phone. You don’t think you can handle Jungkook’s voice right now, so you text him to come over whenever he’s free. He replies within a few minutes saying he’s got one more meeting and then he’ll be there. You mindlessly stare at his text message as anxiety simmers in your gut. This might just be the one thing that finally comes between you two.

When Jungkook arrives you’re pacing in a trance around the living room. He unlocks the door with his key and kicks it open since his hands are full with takeout containers. Your eyes threaten to water when you realize he’s bringing you dinner without you asking.

Your best friend is thoughtful, deliberate, and so, so kind, and here you are about to shatter his world as he knows it.

At the very second his two feet step into your apartment, you scurry across the floor and throw your arms around his neck. He takes an involuntary step back and drops the bags when you barrel into him, a deep chuckle coming from his chest that you feel against your own.

“Bams?”

You manhandle the emotions trying to escape back into their cages. You want, no, need, at least one more moment with him as you are now, before everything changes forever.

His arms wrap around you on instinct, one of his hands resting on the back of your head to cradle you closer.

“Sorry,” you say as you reluctantly let go. “Rough day.”

“Well, I brought kimchi fried rice, so it can’t be that rough,” he jokes.

You fake a smile and nod in agreement before grabbing one of the containers to bring it to the kitchen. Once he places the second one down, you tap your nails against the countertop and contemplate whether or not to wait. Jungkook, clearly oblivious to your turmoil, is already moving towards the fridge to grab a drink before sitting on the couch. It’s now or never, you suppose.

Each step you take to stand across from him feels like trudging through concrete and the overwhelming anxiety is gnawing at you like a wild animal. The notion that this could be the last time you see him smiling at you or have the ability to hear him laugh is debilitating.

You click your heels once you’re opposite him on the other side of the coffee table. He raises an eyebrow at you in a silent question, but you ignore his confusion and fill your lungs with the charged air.

“I’m pregnant.”

You didn't know silence could be so deafening.

Jungkook’s cola bottle falls from his hands onto the floor with a plastic boing sound. The noise feels inappropriate for the tension of the room. His pupils are shaking as his eyes grow in size exponentially and the skin between his eyebrows creases as his lips part. Even from here you can see his mouth’s run completely dry.

You take another deep breath, but you aren’t able to stop your emotions from leaking out anymore.

“And I’m really, really scared,” you say as your voice breaks.

Jungkook immediately snaps out of his daze when he hears your tone of voice, all of his previously tense features softening as he stands to reach you.

The next thing you know, his warm hands are caressing your cheeks as he brushes the tears away.

“Hey, hey, Bambi,” he whispers. “It’s okay. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” You cry harder at the gentle nature of his voice, like he’s worried he’ll break you if he talks too loud. “I’m right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere. You’ve got me, alright? We’ve got each other. That's all that matters.”

“You aren’t mad?”

“Mad?” Jungkook tilts his head in confusion. “You thought I would be mad at you, Bams?” You nod as best you can with your face caught between his hands. Jungkook frowns deeply. “Why would I be mad?”

“Because… because my birth control fucking failed and now we’re… we’re gonna be parents and —”

“That’s not your fault,” Jungkook interrupts. “I’m the one who creampied you, Bambi.”

“Yeah, but I told you to.”

“Oh, I assure you, I would’ve asked if you hadn’t.”

Despite your current emotional state, you laugh at his explanation. Your tears slowly, but surely, subside after a few more minutes. Gripping his wrists, you remove his hands from your face and hold them instead.

“I’m still sorry,” you say quietly.

“Don’t apologize,” he responds, then tilts your chin up. “You’re gonna make me a dad, Bams. That’s nothing to apologize for.”

The sigh of relief you exhale is exuberant. A smile creeps onto your face and Jungkook mirrors the expression before a mischievous grin appears instead.

He encompasses your waist and lifts you into the air in one swoop, you screech at the sudden movement and koala him to keep yourself from falling. He giggles incessantly as he spins you both around in circles in the middle of your living room.

“Koo! Put me down!”

He obeys after a moment, but not before bending his knees to dip you down towards the floor. You squeal until a fit of laughter overtakes you as he slowly brings you both back up to his full height.

“I’m so happy, Bams, you have no idea,” he tells you wholeheartedly.

Once the laughter subsides, you inhale fondly and caress his jaw with one of your hands.

“Me, too,” you admit.

A full blown bunny smile greets you and Jungkook nuzzles his nose against yours, making you giggle and blush a rosy pink hue. When your feet are on the earth again, you head for the kitchen, but Jungkook stops you with a hand to your forearm.

“Can I…” Jungkook begins to ask, his eyes glancing towards your stomach.

“Can you what, Koo?”

“Can I, ya know, touch?”

Looking down at your stomach, which is still identical to its normal size, you raise an eyebrow at him, but find yourself nodding yes anyway.

He giggles delightfully and places his palm over your abdomen, where soon enough you’ll have a baby bump.

“Man, this is fucking awesome.” You find yourself chuckling at his excitement over literally nothing at all yet. “Can I come to your doctor’s appointments?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t want to go to them without you,” you answer. “I still have to make the first one. I only took the tests a couple hours ago.”

“Were you alone?” He’s frowning as he asks, regret evident in his tone.

“Usagi was there.”

Jungkook scoffs, chuckling knowingly as he shakes his head and follows you into the kitchen.

You eat together as though you didn’t just deliver life alternating news. Which honestly, is the only outcome that ever would’ve come to fruition. Perhaps the staggering emotions of finding out you’re pregnant made you forget just how much you two love and care for each other. Your friendship is backed by nearly three decades of time spent together, and even something as massive as a baby can’t shake that foundation.

What might shake the foundation of a house is the screams of joy your mothers are going to let out when you tell them. They’ve been begging you for a shared grandchild since you graduated college.

Jungkook is supportively holding your hand as you two stand on the front porch of your house, which is conveniently down the street from his house, because that’s just how close your parents are. You can’t blame them, you’re sure you and Jungkook will be the same one day, especially now.

The memories of your childhood are flooding through your mind while you stand in the familiar location. It gets you thinking about all the new memories you’ll make with your own child one day.

Releasing the tension from your neck, you nod at Jungkook to let him know you’re ready. He returns the gesture and lets go of your hand to knock on the door. Unsurprisingly, it’s his mother’s face who comes into view from the other side of the screen door.

“Oh, Kookie! What are you two doing here?” She asks cheerfully.

“What are you doing here, Mom?” Jungkook asks as he hugs her.

“Oh, you know I practically live here.”

You laugh, knowing how right she is, and give her a big, bear hug. Her comforting presence always eases your anxieties, especially now when you’re worried about their reaction to your news.

She guides you through the house as though it’s her own and leads you into the kitchen where your mom is cooking dinner. You greet her with a hug and kiss on the cheek as she stirs the pot on the stove. Jungkook follows suit, resting his head on her shoulder as he hugs her side.

Your mom tells you she’s nearly done and to go sit. She joins you a few minutes later after turning the stove off and removing the food from the heat.

“Seriously, kids, what did you come all this way for?” Jungkook’s mom asks once you’re all sitting around the kitchen table.

“It’s not that far,” you say.

“No, but you two never show up unannounced like this,” your mom states.

“We have something to tell you,” Jungkook says.

His hand finds yours under the table and gives it a comforting squeeze, out of the eyesight of your mothers. Your petrified eyes flicker towards him, but he just nods and smiles reassuringly at you. You lick your lips and sit up as a way of giving yourself a moment of reprieve before you change the entire atmosphere of the home.

“I’m pregnant,” you announce. “We’re having a baby.”

“WE?” They scream in unison.

You instantly lose all their attention. They’re too busy screaming like school girls while clasping their hands together and shaking them in excitement. You and Jungkook share a sideways glance and have to suppress a laugh.

“When did this happen? How long have you been dating?” Your mom asks.

Both your faces pale at her question, not thinking far enough ahead to prepare for these types of inquiries.

“Um, we’re not,” you tell her.

“What do you mean, you’re not? How did you get pregnant then?”

Jungkook awkwardly clears his throat and messes with the collar of his shirt as tension fills the room. Never in a million years did you think you’d be talking about your and Jungkook’s sexscapades with your moms.

“We just hooked up, a one time thing,” you answer.

“So, you’re not together?” His mom wonders. You both shake your heads, hating the look of disappointment that crosses their features. “Are you gonna try?”

“Maybe… maybe one day, Mom,” Jungkook answers. “But right now we just wanna focus on being the best parents we can be.”

They reluctantly accept his answer before moving onto all the nitty gritty details like asking when your next appointment is, if you’re going to find out the gender, etc.

The four of you eat dinner together but unfortunately, your dads are away on a fishing trip together, so you don’t get to tell them the news tonight. Your moms promise to relay their reactions to you through the phone upon their return.

With your parents out of the way, your friends are up next to bat, but you don’t expect that announcement to go as well as this one.

Your first gynecologist appointment is the following week, and you and Jungkook both take the day off from work so you can go together. It’s pretty nerve wracking, but you’re mostly excited to see the first ultrasound pictures of your little peanut.

Jungkook drives you to the appointment in his black Mercedes Benz and it lowkey makes you feel like his knocked up sugar baby. He didn’t grow up with money, so he’s still humble, but he definitely enjoys splurging on his choice of car, if anything. It’s certainly not a bad thing to be having a kid with someone who’s financially well off, but you hate taking advantage of Jungkook’s wealth even when he offers.

He reverses the car into a parking spot, his arm moving to the headrest behind you as he looks over his shoulder to fit in the space. Upon exiting the car, you come around the hood where Jungkook is waiting for you with his hand out. You take it without a second thought and lace his fingers with yours as you walk into the dauntingly large medical building together.

Your foot rapidly taps against the elevator as it inches up to the third floor. When the doors open after what feels like an eternity, the office can only be described as a haven for expecting mothers.

Everywhere in sight there are women with swollen bellies of varying degrees, most of them accompanied by their doting partners. As you scan the room, you notice one thing in common with almost all of them; they all have big, shiny rings on their fingers.

You pout instinctually, green envy coating your insides. It’s not as though you’ve been hunting for a husband, it’s honestly been the last thing on your mind, but you’d be lying if you said you aren’t jealous they have spouses and you have a baby daddy. You love Jungkook, more than anything in the world, and there isn’t anyone else you can imagine having a kid with, but it’s not the same as these men and women looking at their pregnant partners like they hung the stars in the sky.

Jungkook notices your unintentional scowl and tugs on your hand to grab your attention. He raises an eyebrow at you, but you just shake your head and proceed towards the reception desk.

“Hi, an appointment under Jeon,” you tell the woman behind the desk. You hear Jungkook make a noise of curiosity from beside you. “Figured we should do everything under the baby’s last name, it’s simpler that way.”

“The baby’s gonna have my last name?”

His eyes sparkle with wonder and your heart soars.

“Yeah, you’re the dad, Koo.”

“I know, but I thought since we aren’t together —”

“No,” you cut him off. “It’s baby Jeon, a hundred percent.”

He smiles so big his eyes disappear and his bunny teeth make an appearance. You roll your eyes affectionately before turning your attention back to the receptionist as she hands you a clipboard with some paperwork to complete.

Both of you have to call your respective mothers at one point while filling out the extensive medical history forms. Once the twenty or so pages are complete, Jungkook returns it to the receptionist before joining you again in the waiting room. You sit with identical bouncing knees as the minutes tick by in heavy anticipation.

When your name is finally called, the two of you leap up and hurry over to the nurse who’ll lead you to the observation room.

They take some vitals, draw your blood for the formal pregnancy test, and go over the paperwork, getting the more mundane, administrative details out the way before handing you a gown and instructing you to lay down for the ultrasound.

Jungkook excitedly rubs his palms together and stomps his feet when the nurse leaves and you get ready to see your baby for the first time.

Ever the gentleman, he looks everywhere but at you as you strip to put the gown on, which is so adorable you almost combust. He put a baby in you and yet he’s respectful enough to look away when you undress in front of him, what a fucking doll.

Your feet tap an unknown melody against the stirrups as you wait and Jungkook scrolls on his phone absentmindedly. The doctor alerts you with a short knock before opening the door and popping her head in.

“Hi, you guys,” she greets you. She shakes Jungkook’s hand and then yours before rolling a stool over to sit between your legs. “How are you both doing?”

“Good.”

“Great.”

“Good, good,” she smiles. “So, great news, you are indeed pregnant! Based on your hormone levels it looks like you’re about eight weeks along.”

Even though you know the exact date and time your baby was conceived, the sensual moment permanently etched into your memory, and it’s impossible to be anything else besides divine intervention, you still sigh in relief over everything lining up as it should.

“Before we get to the ultrasound, I just want to go over a couple things that I always do with new parents, alright?”

“Sure,” you agree with a smile.

“Okay, we won’t be discussing labor and delivery until you’re a little farther along because there’s a lot to take in at first and it can be pretty overwhelming,” she explains. “I just want to make sure you both are in a good place, have everything you need from me, and availability to any resources you may need during this time.” She looks at you expectantly and you nod your head to convey you understand. “Alright, so tell me a little bit about yourselves.”

You gesture towards Jungkook and he points to his chest with his hand. When you nod, he clears his throat and sits up straighter.

“Hi, Jungkook, she calls me Koo,” he starts. “I’m a head video game designer and have a house just outside the city. I have a Doberman named Bam. I box in my free time… not sure what else you need to know.”

“No, that’s great,” she reassures him. She turns her attention to you.

“I’m Y/N, but he calls me Bambi, and don’t ask, we can’t remember why,” you laugh. “I’m an administrative assistant and rent an apartment in the city and have a munchkin cat named Usagi. In my free time I read, mostly.”

“So, you two don’t live together?” You both shake your heads. “Are you exes, just haven’t moved in together yet, something else?”

“Best friends,” you tell her. Then, because it’s confusing for most people that you’re pregnant with your best friend’s baby, you continue. “We decided to have some fun one night and now we’re gonna be having fun together for the next 18 years.”

She laughs lightheartedly at your story.

“Alright, I like the sound of that. You’re supposed to be going through this with your best friend, anyway,” she says. “How long have you known one another?”

“I was strapped in a baby carrier to my mom’s chest in the hospital room while she was being born,” Jungkook states.

“Oh, wow.”

“Yeah,” you add.

“Well, that’s great, you two! You’ve got a long history together and that can only make for wonderful teamwork.”

There are some more details you discuss regarding the first trimester and the vitamins you’ll be taking. You go over the common symptoms for this time frame and how best to remedy them. Once that’s settled, she finally pulls out the ultrasound machine and you get jittery just from the sight. You’re so eager to see your baby and when Jungkook joins you by your side, he radiates the same energy. He’s sitting to your left now and you bend your arm up to hold his hand. Jungkook smiles at your actions and clasps his hand around yours with a tight squeeze.

Jumping when you feel the cool gel on your skin, you ignore the novel sensation and wait impatiently for the image of your baby to appear on the monitor.

Before you see anything, a steady, rhythmic thumping plays throughout the room.

You and Jungkook gasp in unison.

“And that’s a heartbeat,” the doctor says with a big smile.

Jungkook rests his head on yours and your free hand wraps around to tousle his hair affectionately.

The visual on the screen doesn’t make much sense at first, but then the doctor pauses her movements along your abdomen and clicks the keyboard to take some still shots.

“So, this is your baby,” she says while pointing to the small peanut shape amongst all the black and white fuzziness. “They’re about the size of a kidney bean right now.”

“A kidney bean!” Jungkook cheers. “How flippin’ cute.”

You giggle while glancing back at him. His starry eyes are shining and glossy while he admires the monitor showing him his future child.

“Are you two going to find out the gender? That will happen at your twelve-week follow up.”

“No, we’re gonna keep it a surprise,” you answer.

“Great choice, it’s always so fun that way.”

She points out a couple more things on the ultrasound before turning the machine off and printing the pictures she took, making sure to print two copies so you and Jungkook can each have one.

When you peek at him once the doctor leaves so you can get dressed, he’s staring at the photos while his thumb gently traces over the shiny paper right where your baby is. You feel tears forming in the corners of your eyes, but keep them under control with a sniffle and scrunch of your nose.

TWO

You have two main friend groups, one which is mutual with Jungkook, consisting of six other guys and three girls besides yourself, and another group of all girls, four of them in addition to you. Sometimes you mix the groups, and they all get along just fine, some better than others, wink wink, but usually you see them on separate occasions.

Tonight is monthly wine night with your girls, which, of course, you won’t be partaking in, although you plan on faking it.

You’re unsure about telling your friends just yet. It’s been nice having this sweet little secret just between you and Jungkook, thoroughly enjoying the whispers of excitement you share as you admire your miniature baby bump together. Of course, that enthusiasm is shared between you and your mothers who message you daily for updates.

The bump forming over your womb isn’t noticeable in the slightest unless you’re wearing something abhorrently tight, and even then, you look bloated at best. So, you can easily get away with hiding your little bundle of joy for a few more weeks.

It’s a fact the girls will be absolutely ecstatic for you and completely supportive, so it’s not fear holding you back. Maybe judgment? The circumstances of your pregnancy are far from ordinary and you don’t want a lecture from anyone regarding your questionable choices. Your friends adore Jungkook, since they’ve known him as long as they’ve known you, and they’re fully aware of how wonderful he is, but being a friend and being a father are two very different things and it wouldn’t be totally unreasonable for them to have doubts.

Grabbing some wine to pass from the corner store, you drive to Nayeon’s place just up the road. The five of you rotate hosts monthly and tonight is her night. You won’t have the pleasure of hosting again for another four months since your turn was last month. You’re bringing wine along to keep suspicions to a minimum, and you plan on filling your glass with some sparkling grape juice you also snagged.

When you arrive, Jihyo and Mina are standing by their cars cackling at something on their phones. As you exit and lock your car with a click, you wave and approach the laughing banshees with a smile.

Their faces shine bright when they see you and enthusiastically return the wave.

“Bitch, it’s only been a month and I missed you so fucking much,” Mina cries as she pulls you in for a crippling hug.

“Are you drunk already?” You question due to her out of character language and how she’s slumping against you.

“Nooo.”

“Don’t worry, I drove her here,” Jihyo, ever the mom friend, assures you.

You enter Nayeon’s apartment as a trio, her door already unlocked for the occasion, as you update each other on surface level things like work and hobbies.

Nayeon and Tzuyu are in the kitchen with a glass of wine already in hand while they gossip about something. You know they’re gossiping because their expressions are dramatically shuffling through different emotions like shock, confusion, and disgust.

They wave excitedly when they notice your entrance and quickly finish their conversation before joining you.

Jihyo places Mina delicately on the couch and instructs her to stay still so she can grab her a glass of water. You follow Jihyo into the kitchen, peering over your shoulder at your other friend who’s now lackadaisically swaying side to side.

“Ji, why is Mina drunk off her ass right now?”

Jihyo sighs as she grabs a cup and glances towards the living room to visually check on the topic of your conversation.

“Her and Mingyu broke up.”

“No!” You gasp, your hands covering your mouth in disbelief. “Did he dump her?”

“She won’t tell me! She just sits on my bed and cries for hours.”

Jihyo and Mina are roommates, but Mina has been hoping to move in with Mingyu for a while now and was merely waiting for him to ask.

“Oh no, my poor girl.”

“I’m hoping tonight will help and maybe she’ll finally open up about what happened,” Jihyo says. “You wanna try my wine?”

“Oh, no, I’ve got my own,” you tell her and show off the bottle of fake alcohol you peeled the label off of.

She recognizes your answer with a nod before heading back to Mina. By the time you return with her water she’s relaying the information to Nayeon and Tzuyu through tears and slurred sentences.

You hug Tzuyu from behind and she warmly wraps her arms around your own to reciprocate the affection. After repeating the embrace with Nayeon, you take a seat on her armchair and pour the grape juice into the wine glass she left out for you.

The five of you update each other like always, since that’s the main purpose of these get-togethers. It’s your sacred time to dive into the messy and dirty details of your lives over the last month.

Mina is unanimously nominated to go first once she’s consumed a couple glasses of water to sober her up a bit. She explains how her and Mingyu, her boyfriend of nearly four years, broke up because he isn’t ready to settle down. Apparently it was mutual, but she’s still head over heels for him and is having a terrible time trying to move on.

The four of you hold her while she cries until eventually, she tires herself out, and you move on to Tzuyu.

The conversation circles through everyone until you’re finally the center of attention. There’s a piece of you that still wants to stow away your secret for a little while longer, but you’re also so excited for them to share in your joy that you can barely stand holding it in.

“Okay, so, technically this happened two wine nights ago, but I wasn’t ready to tell you guys just yet,” you begin. You suck in a breath through your teeth and take a sip of your drink even though there’s no liquid courage in the glass. “Jungkook and I hooked up.”

The gasps from your friends are so loud you think they sucked all the air from the room.

“No fucking way.”

“I freaking knew it would happen one day!”

“Oh my God?”

“Please tell me he’s got a big dick, I just know he has a big dick.”

You laugh into your glass at the multitude of different reactions before continuing. Sighing in content remembrance, you lean forward and rest your elbows on your knees.

“He’s. Fucking. Huge.”

Somehow, their gasps this time are even louder.

“No, no, you need to spill right fucking now. I want every dirty fucking detail, baby,” Nayeon says.

“There honestly isn’t that much to tell. We were watching a movie, he brought it up, it happened, bada-bing bada-boom,” you state.

“Are you two together now?” Jihyo asks.

“No,” you shake your head. “We just wanted to see what it was like, you know?”

“Bitch,” Tzuyu scoffs. “You just told us your ungodly handsome, sweet, filthy rich, jacked as fuck best friend has a huge dick and you’re gonna look at me and say it was a one time thing?”

“You guys know it’s not like that with us,” you respond. “I love him, like, with everything in me, and obviously, I know how attractive he is, but I don’t get butterflies around him or think about him first thing in the morning.” You sit back in the chair. “The love I have for him is so much greater than romantic love. I mean, never say never, but we’re both completely content with the way we are.”

“Hear hear,” Jihyo says with a clink of her nails against her glass.

Nibbling on your lip, you count the bubbles floating in your drink as you decide whether or not you’re ready for the actual reveal.

“There is… more, though,” you quietly admit. Everyone leans in and you shake your head back and forth to prepare for the biggest confession you’ll ever make to them. “I’m pregnant.”

The gasps this time are so volatile two of them start coughing and Jihyo walks her ass straight out of the room with a hand over her mouth.

“Shut the fuck up right now,” Nayeon snaps.

“He knocked you up?” Mina’s drunk ass shouts.

“Mmhmm.”

“Are you… happy about that?” Tzuyu tentatively asks.

The massive grin forming on your face reveals your answer before you can give it, and you start nodding overdramatically while you giggle.

“Oh my God! You’re pregnant!” Tzuyu cheers now that she’s aware of your excitement.

“You’re gonna be a mom!” Nayeon claps.

“We’re gonna be aunts!” Mina adds.

Jihyo returns to the room with fresh tears on her cheeks.

“Ji,” you coo at her.

She hiccups out a weak chuckle as she pulls you into her for a bear hug. The other girls follow suit and surround you until the five of you are basically cuddling in the middle of Nayeon’s living room. Suddenly, someone starts jumping and the force shakes the floorboards as you all join in and chant “yay yay yay” on repeat.

The whimsicality of girlhood never fails to paint a smile on your face.

The following weekend you have plans with your other friend group. You usually rotate through a few different activities you all enjoy and tonight is karaoke, which is one of your personal favorites.

Jungkook gets ready at your place so you can eat dinner together beforehand since the food at the karaoke bar is stupidly overpriced. He never fails to remind you he can afford it and is more than willing to pay for your meal, but you don’t like using his money unless it’s absolutely necessary. You’re a big girl who can pay for herself and he understands your desire for independence.

You’re at the vanity finishing your makeup when he enters with another bowl of rice he grabbed after finishing your meal. He takes up purchase on your bed and eats absentmindedly while his eyes follow the movement of your wrist coating your lashes in mascara.

The feeling of his stare creates goosebumps on your skin and an involuntary smile appears in the mirror. No doubt your foundation hides the blush springing forth as well.

“You look pretty, Bams,” he compliments.

“Thank you!”

The now empty bowl meets your nightstand with a clank as he moves to stand beside you. He leans down until you’re side by side in the mirror and gives you his cheesiest smile. You snort at his antics and continue to giggle while dropping your mascara into the pile of other makeup tools.

“Cute,” you tell him.

He smiles successfully and extends his hands towards you. You graciously accept his offer and stand to your full height. Just as you’re heading for your closet to grab shoes, Jungkook ensnares your wrist and eyes you hopefully. Raising an eyebrow at his actions, you wait for him to speak his mind.

“Can I see it?”

The eye roll is automatic at this point.

“Koo, my baby bump is not any bigger than it was a few days ago. It’s barely a bump as is! I could eat pasta and grow bigger than I am now,” you tell him.

“It doesn’t matter, I just like knowing they’re in there,” he says with a huge smile. “My little kidney bean.”

“They’re a plum now, remember?”

Jungkook just stares you down expectantly rather than responding. Begrudgingly, but still with a smile on your face, you push your jacket away so he can see the barely noticeable hump over your abdomen. He giggles, his feet taking turns leaving the floor, and places both hands on you, caressing your womb ever so gently.

“My little plum,” he sighs happily.

You're so utterly endeared by him and his nature that it makes you sick.

Once Jungkook is done holding the little plum, you leave to meet your friends at the karaoke bar.

Throughout the drive you discuss whether or not to announce the pregnancy to your friends. Jungkook knows you told the girls, and was unnecessarily smug about their interest in his size, but your mutual friends are another animal entirely.

Everyone met at one point or another during college and by graduation you’d become one massive, conjoined group of lovable idiots. All eleven of you are extremely close, even if the bonds you share are unique to each individual pair. You know things about one another no one else does and they’re always the first people you tell about good news.

Jungkook is more anxious than you about telling them, especially since he’s yet to let the cat out of the bag to anyone besides your parents. He’s the youngest among the boys and his biggest fear is disappointing them. Not that they would be, because even though they're a group of seven men, they’re the kindest people in the world, but Jungkook’s always been sensitive about their opinion of him because he idolizes them so much.

By the time you reach the bar you’ve mutually agreed to hold off for now and proceed to exit the car together. Jungkook instinctively places his hand on your lower back as you walk in and a hostess tells you which room your friends occupy.

Upon opening the door to the private karaoke suite, you’re met by the booming sound of cheers from all nine people packed inside. Everyone rises from their seats to hug you one by one before letting you settle into the couch across from the karaoke machine and mini stage.

“What are you drinking tonight?” Yunjin asks you as she takes the seat to your right.

Jimin, Hoseok, and Yoongi are already flipping through the songbook next to the stage for the perfect opening song.

“Can’t, I’m Koo’s designated driver for tonight,” you tell her.

“We’re gonna be here for hours like always, you should have one, at least,” she says.

“Maybe,” you say with an appreciative smile.

Lying to the people you love most isn’t exactly easy, especially when you already suck at it, but Yunjin seems to take you at your word and returns her focus to the opposite side of the room.

The opening beats of an R&B song fill the air and you turn your attention to the three jackals on stage as they belt their hearts out together. You admire them with a massive grin and are thoroughly impressed by how they manage to make complete fools of themselves while still hitting all the notes.

The other girls join you sometime during the bridge, Chaewon taking the empty seat by you while Eunchae goes next to Yunjin. Eunchae tells everyone she got a promotion at work, so you clink your glasses together to cheer for her, yours being filled with cola instead of alcohol.

“Here, try my drink, it’s so good!” Chaewon says as she passes the glass to you. You shake your head and tell her the same lie you told Yunjin. Unfortunately, Chaewon is less forgiving than your other friend. “It’s just a sip, girliepop!”

You shoot her a warning glance, and luckily, the two other women are distracted by Namjoon and Jin’s soulful duet on stage. Due to your decade long friendship, you and Chaewon share the unique ability to speak without any words, and your silent conversation goes something like this.

You, glaring at her with your head tilted. Don’t.

Her, sitting back a little with her eyebrows raised. Bitch?

You, nodding minutely a couple times. Yup.

Her, eyes wide with a hand on her chest. You’re pregnant?

You, nodding while staring her down. Can you fucking believe it?

Her, brow creasing and slowly shaking her head. Who the fuck is the dad?

You, holding up a hand to block the view from the others while pointing at Jungkook who’s sitting across the room. Jungkook.

Her, hand over her mouth, eyes bulging out of her head. You’re fucking joking!

So, that’s how Chaewon finds out, and your final signal to her is your pointer finger pressing against your lips so she knows this is still a massive secret.

Jungkook and Taehyung take the stage next, and they’re always an entertaining pair, so you both pay close attention. It’s debatable whether that was a good decision, because the rest of you end up with aching cramps from the intense fits of laughter. You're all desperately clutching your stomachs as the two of them jump around and sing in each other’s faces to a song that does not call for that type of choreography. You’re 99% sure it’s a breakup song from a K-Drama.

You’re still wiping the tears from your eyes when Eunchae speaks up breathlessly.

“God, I don’t know why, but this reminds me of when the boys performed in the university talent show,” she states.

“Oh shit, I totally forgot about that,” Yunjin responds.

“Wait, what are you guys talking about?” Jimin says as he sits next to Yunjin.

“Don’t you remember? You guys wore those hockey jerseys and covered that 90s song,” you tell him. “It was so good!”

Jin nods from the other side of the couch and starts laughing as he remembers the performance.

“That was so long ago! I remember it being super fun, though,” he says.

“Please don’t bring that up, that was the most embarrassing day of my life,” Yoongi groans.

“Oh please, Min, you secretly loved it,” Chaewon teases him.

You gasp when you realize it’s definitely still stored somewhere in your phone. Pulling the device out of your pocket, you scoot over so Jungkook can sit next to you while you scroll through your camera roll from almost ten years ago. Taehyung joins you and leans over Jungkook’s shoulder to see as well.

“Found it!” You squeal.

Unable to resist reliving the memory, everyone gathers behind you to watch. Your previous fits of laughter make a gnarly comeback as you marvel at the younger versions of them dancing and singing their little hearts out. They look like babies in comparison and it makes you swoon.

“That was literally another lifetime,” Namjoon says once the video is done playing.

“Man, we were so fucking cool,” Hoseok states proudly.

“Jungkook, you should wear your hair like that again,” Yunjin says. “You looked fucking hot.”

“Fuck yeah he did, rumor has it Kook lost his virginity that night,” Taehyung jokes as he squeezes Jungkook’s bicep.

“Yo! Shut the hell up, I lost my virginity in high school,” Jungkook retorts. He takes a swig of his drink and chuckles against the glass. “It was the first time I fucked raw, though.”

“Clearly not the last,” you say under your breath.

Jungkook turns to you with his eyes bugging out and you have to stifle your laugh with your hand. Resting your forehead on his shoulder, you gain control of your laughter and whisper a halfhearted apology to him.

“Ok, girlies, let’s fuck this shit up,” Chaewon annonces.

Yunjin and Eunchae both chug the last of their drinks before grabbing each of your hands so you can take the stage together. You diligently flip through the songbook to find the perfect one while the guys converse about a recent video game release. Gasping when you spot a familiar song title, you point to the page and eye the girls with a mischievous smirk.

“Wait, don’t we know the dance for this?” Yunjin asks.

You and Eunchae nod together.

“Oh, we are gonna leave these men fucking gagged,” Chaewon states before plugging the selection into the karaoke machine.

Chaewon hits the nail on the head, because as soon as the song begins and you start shaking your asses like a bonafide girl group, the men go insane. The seven of them act like they’re your biggest stans who paid for a ticket just to see this.

Hoseok and Jimin stand to the right of the stage throwing invisible money over you all, while Taehyung and Jungkook are sitting on the end couch spanking the air back and forth. Yoongi is covering his eyes with his hand while he shakes his head, but he’s still peeking at your performance between his fingers. Namjoon is bent over with his elbows on his knees and his hands under his chin like he’s trying to analyze the way your asses bounce. Jin stands with a glass in each hand as he dances along and screams your names in a repeating chant at the top of his lungs.

When you finish the show stopping performance, all of them are almost as breathless as you from cheering so much.

“Fuck, why am I hard right now?”

“That was spectacular.”

“You guys were so good!”

“I think I just came.”

“Amazing, bravo.”

“Encore!”

“Remind me why we’re all just friends?”

All four of you are panting as you hop off the stage and attempt to slow your racing heartbeats. Jimin notices you don’t have a drink and goes to hand his glass of vodka cranberry to you.

“Here, you look like you could use this.”

Just as you’re about to wave him off and reject his offer, Chaewon interrupts.

“Y/N can’t have alcohol,” she states.

Eyes blowing wide, you glare and wordlessly scold her with your facial expressions, throwing your hands up incredulously for good measure. Poor Jungkook looks like a deer in headlights since you didn’t get the chance to tell him she knows.

“Why not?” Yoongi asks from across the table.

“Are you okay? Nothing’s wrong, right?” Yunjin adds.

“No, no,” you answer with a nonchalant wave of your hand. “Just this new medication I’m on.”

“Which one? Prenatal vitamins?” Eunchae jokes as she takes a drink. Your lip catches between your teeth as you look at her with wide, worrisome eyes. Her expression shifts into shock when she notices your face over the rim of her glass. “Holy fuck, I was joking. Y/N, are you pregnant?”

“Um… yes?”

The eight people in the room who weren’t previously aware inhale simultaneously to berate you with questions, but are all stopped short by Taehyung speaking first.

“Who the fuck put a baby in you?”

Gnawing on your lip as your mind scrambles for an answer, your eyes flit to Jungkook for support, but his face is paler than a ghost. You reluctantly accept your fate and sigh in defeat.

“J… Ju… Jungkook did.”

All hell breaks loose.

You’re fighting off Eunchae, Yunjin, Namjoon, and Hoseok with your hands up in surrender as you vigorously shake your head back and forth. Jungkook is slowly sinking into his seat with his arms out in defense as Jimin, Taehyung, Jin, and Yoongi descend on him like a pack of ravenous wolves. Everyone’s screaming voices are louder than any of the singing tonight and if someone took a picture of the room it could only be classified as a goddamn renaissance painting.

Once the initial shock wears off and Jungkook finally comes to his senses, he shakes his head to collect his thoughts and stands up.

“Everyone, shut the fuck up! My bun is in that oven and I don’t need you assholes stunting their growth with your screaming,” he shouts.

“Oh, please don’t refer to me as an oven, Koo,” you grimace.

“I didn’t mean it that way, Bams.”

“Yeah, but —”

“Hey!” Eunchae interrupts you. “Lovebirds, you wanna fucking tell us how you got knocked up?”

Jungkook clears his throat.

“Well, Eunnie, you see, when a mommy and daddy love each other very mu — AH!”

Jungkook’s mock explanation is cut short by him ducking to avoid the couch pillow Eunchae chucks at his head.

“Be fucking for real, Jeon. Why is your demon spawn in my best friend?”

“Hey, don’t talk about our little plum like that,” Jungkook frowns.

“Little plum?” Jimin and Taehyung speak in unison.

Jungkook sighs dreamily before responding.

“That’s how big they are right now.”

“It just happened!” You state. “We just fucked for shits and gigs and now we’re here.”

“You let Jungkook come in you for shits and gigs?” Hoseok asks with his signature face of judgement.

The implications of his tone make you pout and cross your arms over your chest.

“Yes, and it was very enjoyable, thank you very much.”

“Oh, ew.”

“For real?”

“Ah, fuck no.”

Chaewon fake gags with a finger in her mouth.

“Wait, wait,” Namjoon steps into the center of the room. “How is this gonna work? Are you two gonna co-parent? Switch off houses every other week?”

“I… don’t know,” you answer honestly before looking at Jungkook. He shrugs with his arms out, clearly just as clueless about those details as you. “We haven’t gotten that far yet.”

“Are you gonna find out the gender?” Chaewon asks excitedly, but you quickly shake your head and she frowns. “How am I supposed to get my future niece or nephew the perfect gift if I don’t know their gender?”

“Gender neutral?” You suggest.

You hear Jin exhale overdramatically and when you look towards him he’s downing a shot and slamming the glass down afterwards.

“What the fuck is going on?” He shakes his head and his lips make a horse-like noise. “I mean, we’re talking about Jungkook and Y/N having a baby… a motherfucking child.”

“Yeah, and they’re gonna be the best parents ever,” Yoongi states wholeheartedly.

Yoongi finds your eyes across the room, his adorable gummy smile on full display, and reaffirms his words with a nod. You return the smile gratefully, thanking him with a slow blink as you hold his eye contact.

“Are you alright? I mean, like, you’re good?” Yunjin asks you.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, especially now that you guys know.”

“What about you, Kook?” Taehyung asks from where he sits beside him.

Jungkook looks over his shoulder at his friend, the biggest, bunniest grin imaginable on his face.

“I’m fucking ecstatic,” he answers.

Jimin takes two large strides and hugs Jungkook’s head to his chest, ruffling his hair affectionately. Hoseok joins in next, squishing Jungkook’s cheeks between his hands and giving him adorable fish lips.

“Our Jungkookie is gonna be a dad!” Hoseok coos in his best baby voice.

Your attention is pulled away by Yunjin’s hand on your lower back. She smiles when you turn around and pulls you into a powerful embrace which you reciprocate. Eunchae and Chaewon join the hug and you rest your head on Chaewon’s shoulder. You know how hard she is on herself whenever she screws up, and this is your way of letting her know it’s alright.

When you part, you feel a tug on your hand, and before you know it Jungkook is bringing you into his lap. You giggle as he tucks you into his chest and nuzzles his face in your neck.

There’s a brief moment where it feels as though it’s just you and him, and it’s more needed than you even realized. Jungkook’s recognizably warm presence calming you down after the hectic atmosphere of the room took you for a loop.

Everyone moseys around to take a seat as the adrenaline from the news simmers. The eleven of you actually do some catching up rather than just singing and drinking, and eventually smaller faction conversations happen all around the table.

You stay on Jungkook’s lap the rest of the night with his hand resting on the outside of your thigh to keep you against him.

It’s abnormal behavior for you two, usually keeping a rather firm boundary of friendship, the time you conceived a child together aside, but you don’t question it. Maybe it’s the child in your womb wanting to be close to their father or perhaps the uptick in hormones skewing your regular emotional landscape. Either way, Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind your weight on him and neither do you.

By the time the clock strikes two in the morning, and you’ve all gone a couple more rounds on the karaoke machine, your head is resting on Jungkook’s shoulder as you flicker in and out of consciousness. He soothingly rubs your spine with his hand, making sure to add more pressure to your lower back where it’s been hurting ever since becoming pregnant. Curling into him more in response, you push your face into his neck and hum contently at the familiar scent and warmth.

“You tired, Bams?” He whispers to you, moving some hair away from your face. You answer with a single nod, your eyes already closing again from the heaviness of sleep. “Okay, let’s go.”

Jungkook helps you stand, and you hug all your friends goodbye one by one. Everyone congratulates you both again while also threatening to show up to your homes univinted unless you update them on your progress between hangouts.

Jimin changes your group chat name that very night to: Baby Jeon Official Updates Channel 💦🤭👶🏻💕

You and Jungkook leave hand-in-hand, mostly because he has to keep you upright from how tired you are. He drives back to his place since it’s closer and he doesn’t like the idea of leaving you alone when you’re this sleepy. God forbid you accidentally fall asleep on Usagi and crush her all night long. The car ride is brief, but it’s smooth enough that you fall asleep in the passenger seat almost instantly.

Jungkook carries you inside instead of waking you up, knowing you need more rest nowadays than usual. Although, if he’s being honest, pregnant with his child or not, he’d still carry you and tuck you into bed.

When you wake up in Jungkook’s spare bedroom/home office the next morning, you’re thoroughly confused, but as your sleepiness begins to wane you remember the end of the night and the events which led you here. The smell of pancakes encourages you to walk down the stairs to Jungkook’s kitchen. You’re still wrapped in his comforter when you enter and Jungkook laughs as you approach him like the Queen of bedtime.

“Morning, Bambi,” he greets you as he flips the final pancake onto the plate and turns off the griddle.

“Good morning,” you say with a tired smile.

Just then, the sound of trampling paws comes barreling towards you. Smiling broadly as you turn towards the sound, you bend down to greet the adorable Doberman who’s wagging his tail in excitement at seeing you.

“Bammie!” You cheer as you pet behind his ears. “Oh, I’ve missed you, my good boy.”

He runs around your legs a couple times before scurrying across the hardwood to bring you a bone to throw. You happily oblige him and watch in amusement as he runs away to fetch it before plopping on the couch to gnaw on the toy.

“Come eat, Bams,” Jungkook tells you as he sets two plates on his dining table.

Following his orders, you leave the comforter over the back of the couch and sit across from him to eat the eggs, pancakes, and bacon he made for you both. You eat in comfortable silence for a while until you’re both nearly done.

“Koo, I’m sorry about last night. Chaewon guessed it and then her big mouth spilled the beans. I know it wasn’t the way we wanted it to happen, but at least it’s over with, right?”

“It’s alright,” Jungkook responds before gulping down his orange juice. “I’m glad we finally did it and now everyone knows. Plus, it got me thinking about some stuff I hadn’t really thought about yet.”

“Like what?”

“Well, about what Namjoon hyung said,” he explains. “I mean, he makes a really good point. I want our kid to have a normal family life even if we’re just best friends and not romantic partners.”

“What do you think we should do?”

“I think you should move in with me.”

You choke on your orange juice.

Truthfully, there isn’t anything shocking about his statement, you just weren’t expecting it at that moment. Jungkook has a three bedroom, two and a half bath house which he owns, while you rent a one bedroom apartment. He’s been begging you ever since he bought the property to move into his spare bedroom. The two of you spend almost all your time together anyway and he doesn’t see the point in you wasting money on rent when his house is completely paid off.

The reason you haven’t accepted his offer before is because you never want to take advantage of his wealth or be a burden on him. Being best friends is one thing, being roommates is another.

Now, though, you have a biological right to be a burden on him because he stuck a baby in you.

“Are you sure?” You ask him.

“Of course I am,” he replies in a heartbeat. “I thought about it all last night and it only makes sense. I have two extra bedrooms, one for you and one for the baby.”

“But what about your home office and your gym?”

“I can move my gym equipment to the garage and my desk can easily fit in my bedroom.” You sigh and push your fork around your plate as you contemplate his proposal. “Bams, you’re gonna be the mother of my child, will you just let me take care of you for once?”

As soon as you look into his starry eyes, you know there’s no chance you’ll say no. Jungkook obviously wants to do this because he loves you and wants to make sure you and the baby have everything you need, so who are you to say no?

“Okay,” you agree. “When should I move in?”

THREE

The cardboard box in your hands is slowly slipping from your grasp as you ascend the stairs, but you’re determined to make it to the top before readjusting. You have to reach the landing before Jungkook catches you. If he sees you disobeying his instruction of sitting still, he’ll definitely blow a gasket.

You don’t know what it is with men and thinking pregnant women can’t do anything themselves. It’s still only the first trimester, and sure, your bump has grown some more, but you aren’t completely useless.

Honestly, if you weren’t so stubborn, you would’ve taken his offer of moving all the boxes into the house by himself, but your competitive nature has you lugging a box of cat toys up the stairs instead.

“Bambi! What did I fucking say?”

Dropping the box by your feet only three steps from the top, you blow your hair away from your face and place your hands on your hips.

“Fuck you, Jungkook. I do what I want.”

“You wanna look me in the eyes when you say that?”

“… No.”

“That’s what I thought.” The sound of his combat boots coming up the stairs is all you hear as he moves to steal the box from your feet. Once it’s secure in his arms, he looks at you like a teacher scolding their student and gestures to the couch with his head. “Go sit down.”

“I’m not incapable, you know?” You say with your arms crossed.

“I know that, Bams,” Jungkook states. “It’s not about that. I lift more than this in a single workout at the gym. Why should you have to do it when I’m perfectly capable?”

He’s right. You know that, he knows that, so you leave him alone on the steps to sit down on the couch with a huff.

Bam quickly joins you and lays his head in your lap as he watches his dad move back and forth through the house with curious eyes. Scratching behind his ear, you laugh at the way his tail repeatedly whacks the couch as it wags.

Usagi is still in her carrier in your new bedroom since you want to make sure everything is moved in before introducing her and Bam. You and Jungkook both agree that if they get in a fight, it’s her little munchkin ass who will be the main aggressor, especially since Bam is scared of his own shadow.

Once Jungkook’s done moving the last of the boxes, he flops aggressively into the armchair next to the couch. He pats his thigh and Bam instantly leaves your side to jump into his lap instead. Jungkook leans down to kiss his precious pup before letting his head fall back as he tries to catch his breath.

“Perfectly capable, huh?”

“Shut up.”

“You’re getting old, Koo. Soon you’re gonna be a dad and you’ll have a beer gut —”

“Nuh uh, never gonna happen. I’ll have my abs until the day I die,” he corrects you.

“Please, no you will not. You think you’re gonna be hitting the gym at 80?” You ask as you lean forward in your seat.

“Yes. My love comes from my abs, I can’t lose them,” he states.

The couch cushion indents where your head falls against it as you laugh heartily.

“What? Your love comes from your abs? What the hell does that even mean?”

“Everyone I meet loves my abs, so now they’re just like, full of love, and that’s where it comes from,” he explains unironically.

“Everyone? I don’t think that’s true,” you say with a smirk.

“No?” Jungkook gently guides Bam away and struts over to you. “You’re gonna look at me and tell me you don’t love my abs? That if I took my shirt off right now you wouldn’t go all googly-eyed?”

“Fuck, no,” you scoff.

Jungkook clicks his tongue and then lifts his shirt to engulf you under the fabric. You screech and shove at his waist, kicking your legs haphazardly like you’re being suffocated.

“Let me out of here!” You scream, but it’s severely muffled by the fabric.

“I’m sorry, what did you say? I can’t hear you,” Jungkook teases. “Ow!”

Jungkook immediately frees you and backs away after he feels your teeth sinking into his side. He rubs over the bite mark with a big pout on his face, as if he didn’t start this little charade.

You mock his expression for a moment before standing to go up the stairs and check on your furry child. Jungkook follows begrudgingly, letting his feet drag along the floor like a petulant child. When you enter your new bedroom, conveniently right beside Jungkook’s, Usagi starts meowing incessantly and scratching at her carrier. You soothe her with some baby speak and check that the door is closed before letting her out. Her little legs immediately bring her to the floor so she can explore the unfamiliar room.

She meows every couple of seconds whenever she encounters something new and you watch as she headbutts everything in sight as a way of marking the furniture with her scent. Ironically, this is all the same furniture from your old bedroom just in a different space and formation.

Hands wrap around your waist from behind and you sigh at the feeling of Jungkook’s firm chest meeting your back. Obviously, he’s forgiven you for your little retaliatory love bite.

“I’m really glad you’re here, Bams,” he tells you from where his head rests on your shoulder.

Your hand reaches behind you to sneak into his hair and scratch at his scalp affectionately. He hums and rests his cheek against your shoulder. You’d argue he picked up the mannerisms from his dog, but he’s always been touchy like this.

“I’m happy to be here,” you reply. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Those words no longer apply the following day when you’re hunched over Jungkook’s toilet and spilling your guts into the bowl.

It’s a great unknown why morning sickness is called that when it happens at all hours of the freaking day. You naively believed you snuck past its clutches since you’re already on the brink of your second trimester, but apparently the wonderful symptom was just waiting until you had Jungkook’s big fancy bathroom to throw up in.

Groaning in agony, you plop back onto the tile and rest your head on the cabinet. Your throat is burning from all the regurgitation, there are popped blood vessels all over your cheeks and forehead, making you look like you have freckles, and salty tears from the effort of repeatedly emptying your stomach are drying on your skin.

You caress your baby bump with a glare, making a mental note to scold them at least once when they’re older for putting you through this.

The sound of the front door opening makes your ears twitch. Bam’s heavy footsteps can be heard barreling towards the door and then Jungkook’s voice joins in as he greets his beloved pet.

“Bambi?”

“In here,” you say through your sore vocal chords. Jungkook’s face appears in the doorway and you whimper as tears fill your eyes again. “I fucking hate you for doing this to me.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen at your current state and he instantly sinks to his knees to pull you into his arms. He holds your head against his chest as you cry from the pain and fatigue of running back and forth to the bathroom all day. Jungkook’s been out running errands all day so you’ve been all alone until now.

“I’m sorry, Bams,” he whispers into your hair. “Wish it was me instead.”

There’s no opportunity for you to reply because the familiar feeling of bile climbing up your throat forces you out of his embrace and back over the toilet. Jungkook grabs your hair, making sure to collect the shorter pieces that cradle your face, and holds it in a makeshift ponytail as he rubs your back.

Once you’re done, and after the sound of the toilet flushing disperses, you hear soft cries coming from behind you. Looking over your shoulder, you see Jungkook wiping his eyes with his shirtsleeve.

“Koo,” you call out to him.

He hiccups and attempts a brave face, smiling at you even as tears slip from his waterline.

“Sorry, you know I hate seeing you in pain,” he explains.

You frown and turn around to grab his cheeks, brushing the remaining tears away from them. It’s true you’re already well aware of his empathetic nature and have been for as long as you’ve known him.

“I know,” you say with a smile as you push his hair away from his face. “Remember that time I got bullied in middle school and was crying on the playground, and then you started crying because I was?” Jungkook laughs, his eyes closing as he remembers the moment. “I’ll never forget what you said.” You clear your throat so you can give an accurate representation of his voice. “I never suffer myself, Bambi, I only suffer when I see you suffering.”

Jungkook smiles big and laughs again at your adorable imitation of his deep timbre.

“You know, if we have a boy, I’m gonna have to tussle with him over this,” he says. “No one hurts my Bams, not even my own kid.”

Your responding chuckle is strained due to how sore your body is. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you bring Jungkook closer for a tight hug, your hands curling into the fabric of his shirt. His palm slowly moves up and down your spine in a steady cadence to soothe you until the next wave of nausea comes.

The remainder of the day is spent in the bathroom together, which is luckily spacious enough for not only you two, but Usagi and Bam who both come to join you at one point.

The nausea comes in waves, sometimes occurring multiple times back to back or alternatively with a large lapse of time between them. It holds you hostage in the bathroom for a few days, and you have to take PTO when the work week begins, but eventually the symptoms simmer to about once every couple days after your doctor prescribes medication.

Another lovely symptom you’re experiencing as of late is intense cravings for extremely specific food groups, which is why you’re currently in a screaming match with Jungkook over pickles.

“I’m not buying you pickles, Bambi,” Jungkook sternly states.

“Jungkook, you’re not the one growing a baby inside of you. If I say I want pickles, I should be getting pickles!” You shout, your feet stomping on the ground reactively.

“You fucking hate pickles!” Jungkook matches your tone.

“Yes, but pregnancy cravings don’t care about what I like or don’t like, and they’re saying they want pickles!”

“You’re not going to eat them, Bams, I know you!”

“Yes, I will!”

“You really want me to leave the house at three in the morning for a vegetable that you despise?” Jungkook scoffs in outrage. “You won’t even eat a sandwich if a pickle was on the plate because you claim you can still taste it!”

“That doesn’t matter, Koo!”

Jungkook groans and runs his hands down his face before pushing his hair back.

“I swear to God, Bambi, if I get back here, and you don’t eat that entire fucking jar, I will kick you out of this goddamn house!”

“No, you won’t, you love me too much,” you brag and stick your tongue out at him.

“Yeah, unfortunately, I do,” Jungkook admits angrily. He grumbles to himself the entire time he’s putting on his slides and slipping on his jacket to drive to the nearest 24 hour convenience store. His hand is on the doorknob when he turns back to say one final comment. “You know what the worst part about this is? Most guys in my position are at least getting some pussy for putting up with this shit, but not me! No reward! I’m doing this out of pure, unconditional love for you!”

You gawk at his remark, not recognizing the words coming out of his mouth. Jungkook has never in his life asked for anything in return, let alone imply you owe him a sexual favor.

The door slams shut before you can respond, and a cry breaks from your chest as your head falls forward. Bam hears the noise and comes to comfort you, nudging his head up against your leg like the good boy he is, but barely a minute later, his head jerks when he’s distracted by the sound of the door opening. You don’t even get the chance to look up completely before you’re forced into someone’s arms who smells a lot like Jungkook.

“Bams, I’m so fucking sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” Jungkook tells you.

His apology only makes you cry more, shoving your face into his shirt and soaking it with tears.

“That was so fucked up, Koo,” you sniffle.

“I know, I’m so sorry,” he replies. “I didn’t mean it, okay? You don’t owe me anything, Bams, especially not that.” He pulls away from you and lifts your face by your chin. “Please don’t think that I, even for a second, ever expect you to repay me for taking care of you. I do it because I love you and that’s the only reward I need.”

Wiping your tears with your shirtsleeve, you slap his chest a couple times for good measure. He chuckles because of how lightly you smack him.

“You’re forgiven,” you grumble. “Now, can you please go get me these fuckass pickles?”

Jungkook smiles and nods his head, his hand on your chin moving to caress your hair for a moment.

“I’ll buy you pickles everyday for the rest of your life if that’s what you want, Bambi,” he states.

“It isn’t. I fucking hate pickles,” you say with a smile.

Jungkook rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to your hair before waving goodbye and heading to the store. When he returns twenty minutes later, he’s carrying a couple bags of miscellaneous groceries as well as a jar of pickles.

You wait patiently for him to place the bags in the kitchen before he hands the open jar to you. The smell alone eases the craving that’s been eating away at your stomach for hours now. Grabbing one of the skewers, you pull it out of the juice and take a small bite off the end.

Instantly, your brain screams at you in disgust, and you open your mouth again to spit the piece into your hand. Realizing you now have to face Jungkook so he can say I told you so, your eyes screw shut and you turn towards him. Except, when you open your eyes, he isn’t beside you anymore, he’s walking back from the kitchen with your favorite flavor of chips in hand.

“Got these just in case,” he tells you as he swaps out the jar in your hand for the bag.

You grimace, guilt pooling in your stomach when you realize his trip out into the night was for nought.

“Koo…”

“It’s alright, Bambi. The fact that I was right makes this all worth it,” he says with a sly grin.

The chips taste like salty pieces of heaven and you eat the entire bag that night. You keep the jar of pickles for occasional sniffing because, for whatever reason, your brain loves the smell even though it hates the taste. This pregnancy is already messing with your brain chemistry more than you care to admit and it’s only the beginning.

As the weeks go on, your pregnancy continues to mess with you in the form of a different, but equally as strong, craving.

It initially hits you while you’re putting together Usagi’s new cat tower in the living room. Thankfully, she and Bam get along just fine. In fact, she’s currently lying on him while they nap together on the other side of the room.

The instructions for this contraption are annoyingly hard to understand and you’re holding the instructional pamphlet up in the air as you attempt to make out what size screw you need in the stupidly small font it’s written in.

The sound of the door opening catches your attention. As you lower the paper to see the familiar figure entering the room, your mouth suddenly dries up.

Jungkook’s coming back from his home gym which is now in the garage and the tips of his hair are drenched in sweat. His chest is rising and falling in deep pants from the intensity of his workout and the black shirt he’s wearing sticks to his chest, perfectly outlining his pecs. Then, much to your agony, he takes the bottom of his shirt and wipes it across his forehead, giving you a perfect view of his abs.

The feeling that shoots straight into your core is absolutely foreign. Sure, you know Jungkook is hot, that’s a fact of the universe no one is trying to deny. But you’ve seen him shirtless before, hell, you’ve seen him entirely naked. The bump protruding from your womb tells you that much, and yet you’ve never felt turned on by him doing something so mundane.

It makes you question why your body, and more particularly your pussy, is suddenly insatiable and the sight of him is making drool drip from your mouth where it’s fallen open in awe of his physique.

Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice your change in demeanor as he waves hello before heading upstairs to shower. Once he’s gone, your body releases its tension and you sigh in relief. Although, the feeling doesn’t entirely go away, and you end up spending the rest of the evening uncomfortably horny.

That very night you take matters into your own hands, literally. You haven’t masturbated since getting pregnant, not for any particular reason other than just not feeling the urge, but now the urge has you in a chokehold and you need to fix it.

Closing your eyes and slinking comfortably into your sheets, you pull your shorts and panties off in one go before trailing your hand down to your core. You’re still wet from earlier, no doubt because you saw Jungkook in all his post workout glory. The image of him wiping the sweat from his brow with his shirt is still on your mind when your fingers dip between your folds.

A quiet moan escapes as you move your leaking essence around with your fingertips. It’s been more than three months since you’ve felt any sort of sexual pleasure, the night you spent with Jungkook being the last time.

Your eyes roll as you play with yourself by switching between pushing your fingers into your cunt and circling your clit. The squelching sound helps to turn you on, but the entire time all you can think is that it isn’t enough. It barely scratches the surface of your sexual need and is a sorry excuse for pleasure after what you Jungkook made you feel.

Huffing in frustration, you shut your eyes again and try to forget about the world around you, but it’s only when you think back to earlier today that your pleasure spikes and you moan again.

Realizing what the trick is, you begrudgingly let your imagination, or more so your memory, run rampant. You think back to that night and the way Jungkook’s lips felt against yours, and the way his cock penetrated you so deep you were seeing stars. The memory of his deep voice in your ear makes you moan exuberantly. Your hand falls into a quick rhythm as all the memories come flooding back. Everything about that night sends you closer to the edge of ecstasy. His weight above you, the heat of his skin, his taste, his moans and grunts, the way he fills you up. All of it forces you to bite down on your fist and cry when your orgasm overwhelms you.

The aftershocks of your pleasure have you panting as you come down from the high. You feel immense relief now that your desire is satiated after a long day of feeling your thighs twitch. Pulling your hand away, you stand to wash your hands so you can finally get some rest.

Hopefully, this symptom will eventually disappear like the others and you won’t be riddled with sexual cravings through the entirety of your pregnancy.

The next morning you’re pouring yourself a cup of tea to drink before heading to work. Jungkook comes skipping down the stairs in his business casual attire, his sleeves partially rolled up to reveal his tattoos. You wave to him and push the cup of coffee you poured for him across the counter.

“Thanks, Bams,” he says with a squeeze to your arm.

This is the normal, everyday occurrence for you now, and it’s nice having a routine that works for you both. You didn’t realize how easy living together would be and you’re glad it’s finally happening. Besides the times your pregnancy has turned into a sick, desperate, crazy person, it’s been business as usual for you two even with the adjustment of being roommates.

“You gonna be home for dinner?” You ask him as he takes a sip of the drink. His brow creases and he looks adorably angry, letting you know you made it just right.

“Yeah, the deadline for the newest patch was last week so I shouldn’t be staying late,” he answers.

“I’m making your favorite, your mom sent me the recipe last week,” you tell him.

“No shit,” he says, eyebrows disappearing behind his bangs. You nod in confirmation and he enthusiastically claps his hands. There’s a brief lull in the conversation, but then Jungkook seemingly remembers something and grabs your attention. “Actually, there's something I was gonna talk to you about.”

“What’s up?” Leaning over the counter, you take a sip and wait for him to speak.

“Well, I may or may not have heard you last night and —”

The sound of you choking and spitting out your tea interrupts him.

“Excuse me?”

“I heard you, ya know, having a little fun all by your lonesome last night.” You stare at him incredulously across the island. “Surprise, surprise, the wall between our rooms isn’t that thick.”

“Koo, why are you bringing this up?” You ask. “I mean, thanks for letting me know, I guess?”

“No, no,” he chuckles. “I’m not saying it to embarrass you or anything, Bambi.” He mirrors your stance so your faces are only a few inches apart. “I was just going to offer my services in case you need something more than your own hand.”

“Huh?”

“It’s just, I mean, I’m only a room away, and I know your hormones are probably going awol and making you needy and shit. So, if you ever want to, the option is there.”

“Koo, that’s very sweet of you, but I’m not gonna use you like that.”

“Oh, yeah, because having sex with you is such a chore. Worst night of my fucking life!” You laugh and slap his arm playfully. He stands to his full height with a wink. “Just think about it, alright?”

You do think about it. Unfortunately, it’s all you can think about. It already freaked you out enough when you couldn’t get yourself off without thinking of him, and now your body is mentally somersaulting in celebration because of his offer.

It’s definitely not romantic feelings swirling inside you, because just as you told your friends, you don’t feel butterflies with Jungkook, but it’d be both impractical and impossible to deny you have sexual feelings for him. Whether it’s from pregnancy hormones or something else entirely, you clearly want him something awful. Greed they talked about in the bible type shit.

The only thing you don’t want is for him to fuck you because he’s trying to help you out. If you’re going to hook up again, you want him to want you in the same way.

Despite the mental turmoil it initially puts you through, time goes on without either of you bringing up his little offer. Your body still messes with you by making you horny at all hours of the day, but you usually just satisfy yourself before bed and all is good.

Tonight is different. No matter how hard you try you can’t bring yourself to come. Your fingers are pruny from how long you’ve been playing with yourself, but nothing is working. It’s nearly two in the morning, and although it’s a weekend, you still want some sleep.

Grunting and kicking your blankets away, you cross your arms over your chest and pout in the darkness of your room. The quiet atmosphere of the house is helpful for lulling you to sleep, but your thighs are twitching with need and you know you’ll be restless if you don’t fix it before going to bed. You sigh and sit on the edge of your bed, chewing your lip as you debate if you’re really about to do what you’re thinking of doing. Before you can overthink it any further, you stand up and throw your door open.

Usagi makes a noise of confusion from her bed in the corner of your room, so you whisper to her you’ll be right back and shut the door.

It takes you a minimum of five minutes to gather the courage to knock on Jungkook’s door. He was working late tonight on a new project and went to bed early to catch up on his sleep. Guilt pools in your stomach at the thought of waking him up for such a selfish reason, but you know he’ll scold you if he finds out you needed him without telling him as such.

The sound of your hand against the wood feels extra loud in the stark silence of the house, and it only takes a couple seconds for Jungkook to softly call for you from inside the room.

You twist the door knob and peek your head inside. Jungkook only has one eye open, and he’s fluffing his messy hair in confusion when you enter his room.

“Bambi? Is everything okay?” He asks sleepily.

“Mmhmm,” you say as you chew on your lip. “I, um…”

The embarrassment stirring within you is almost enough to bring your morning sickness back with a vengeance.

“What’s wrong?”

“I… need you,” you whisper.

Jungkook sits up, his other eye finally opening, although they’re still half-lidded with sleep.

“Need me how, Bams? Are you alright?”

“Like… sexually,” you finally answer.

His eyes open a little wider at your response, but soon enough his expression softens and he smiles warmly.

“C’mere,” he whispers, his hand gesturing for you to join him.

You tentatively place one foot in front of the other until you reach the edge of his mattress and climb in. He holds his hand out for you and once you’re close enough he grabs your waist to help you straddle his thighs.

As soon as you feel him beneath you and his chest against your own, the tension in your body disintegrates and the relief sends your forehead to his shoulder. Jungkook reacts instinctively, one hand scratching your scalp while the other rubs your back, and you whimper from comforting sensations.

“Tell me what you need, babygirl.”

“I don’t know. Nothing’s working and I… I just need relief,” you explain.

“Okay, do you want my hands or my mouth?”

You shake your head.

“You, Koo. Want you.”

Jungkook hums and combs his fingers through your hair, the hand on your back rising to cradle your face instead.

“You’ve got me, Bambi. I’ll give you anything you want.” You feel him mouthing at your jaw and breathe a sigh of relief. “Every part of me,” he whispers ardently.

After a prolonged moment of gentle neck kisses, Jungkook takes your hips in his hands to lift you and pull your bottoms down before moving his own pants out of the way. You hear the sound of him pumping his cock to get himself hard, but you’re too busy returning his favor by caressing his neck with your lips to see the motion yourself. The firm touch of his hand on your lower back guides you into the right position atop his lap. You sink down slowly, with Jungkook holding you steady as he fills you inch by delicious inch. The wetness from your earlier attempts at self pleasure allows him to slide into you with ease.

You moan unabashedly at the feeling of his thick cock inside you again, it’s warm and throbbing within your walls and you kiss the bare skin of his shoulder appreciatively. He feels like pure heaven and it’s worrisome how desperately you wish you could stay like this forever.

“Koo, you feel so good,” you moan into his ear.

While you begin kissing his neck again, Jungkook starts bouncing you up and down on his cock via his hold on your hips. The euphoric feeling the action creates must be mutual, because a pair of vibrant moans and the clapping of your skin is the only sound in the room. His noises are deeper than normal since he’s still fresh from slumber and the low tone makes your head spin.

When you eventually take over and pick up the pace, one of his hands leaves your hip to thread into your hair.

“Missed this, Bams,” he tells you sincerely. “You feel fucking perfect around me.”

Jungkook brings your face close so he can kiss you. He’s gentle with his affection, lips moving at a snail’s pace to savor the feeling of kissing you once again. Tracing your bottom lip with his tongue, you moan gratefully when he pushes it past the border of your lips to meet yours. Your arms encircle his neck as you shamelessly make out, pulling him impossibly close so his bare chest is pressing on you.

“So tight, Bams, feels fucking amazing.”

“Mm, it’s just for you. Pussy’s all yours, Koo.”

Jungkook groans aggressively and kisses you with a new wave of passion. His fingers dig into your scalp reactively and you whine, your thighs working overtime to fuck his cock into you again and again. The dual sensation of his kiss and his dick splitting you apart rattles your brain until all you can focus on are your movements.

When he notices your pace stuttering from your impending climax, he steals control again, wrapping both arms around your waist to steady you while he thrusts into you from below. You gasp and bite into the skin of his shoulder as he fucks you with everything he has.

It’s no surprise your orgasm approaches faster than usual, since you were already worked up from your previous ministrations. You welcome the familiar feeling of your abdomen and thighs tightening as Jungkook continues pistoning into you, kissing him again when you feel yourself tipping over the precipice. Running your fingers through his hair and tugging on the black strands, you pull a grunt from his lips that only serves to further your pursuit.

“M’close,” you breathe into his mouth.

“Come for me, Bams,” he replies without missing a beat.

The tip of his cock only meets your g-spot a couple more times before you come with a throaty moan, your head tipping back as Jungkook continues to fuck you through your high. His hips slow to a stop as your body relaxes and breathing levels out, so you question him with a glance.

“What are you doing?”

“You came, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but you didn’t.”

“I’m not the one with pregnancy hormones,” he chuckles.

Your hands move from his hair to caress his jaw.

“It doesn’t matter,” you tell him. “This is a two way street, Koo. You’re not a sex toy, I didn’t come in here just for me.”

Jungkook smiles sweet as pie and kisses the tip of your nose.

“I know, Bambi,” he says. “But honestly, I think we should both get some sleep. Why don’t you stay in here with me and we can pick this up again in the morning?”

You frown, but begrudgingly agree when you notice how tired Jungkook looks.

After pulling out, Jungkook readjusts your bottoms back to your hips before tucking himself into his pants. He cuddles into his sheets with one arm resting against the pillow next to him. Gesturing with his head towards his outstretched limb, you happily take the hint and lay your head on his tatted bicep.

Cuddling with Jungkook is foreign, but the man himself is so familiar that it’s not awkward despite it being the first time. Jungkook wraps his other arm around your waist to bring you into his chest, and it’s shocking just how wonderful it feels to be entirely encapsulated by him. You hum appreciatively as comfort seeps into your very bones and makes a home in your nervous system. Without thinking, you start tracing over his collarbones with your fingertips and he kisses your cheek and temple.

You both fall asleep with ease, your quiet breaths tangling together in the limited space between your faces.

When you wake up, Jungkook is behind you, but his arm is still draped across your waist and your head remains comfortably on his bicep. You smile without realizing and cuddle deeper into his embrace, lacing your fingers with the ones resting on your stomach.

Your view upon looking down is just your intertwined hands above your small baby bump and your smile grows exponentially, your heart squeezing in your chest at the sight of all three of you together this way.

The sentimental moment is brief, because soon enough you recognize the feeling of Jungkook’s dick pressing against your ass and desire begins banging on your door and demanding you let it in. As any good human in your position should, you nonchalantly wiggle your ass and snicker to yourself when you feel his cock stiffening. The sound of Jungkook languidly groaning behind you lights a fire inside your stomach that blazes down to your thighs.

His hand squeezes yours and you feel him nuzzling his face into your neck.

“Morning,” he murmurs in your ear.

“Morning wood, more like it,” you reply.

Jungkook chuckles warmly in your ear and it spreads goosebumps across your skin like wildfire. He releases your hand to grab your hip instead, pulling you into him so you can feel exactly how hard he is. Your exhale becomes a moan when he ruts against your ass and his hand leaves your hip to reach your folds.

The second his fingers slip beneath your panties and touch your warm cunt, your mind goes to static.

“Shit, Bams, you’re fucking soaked,” he notes.

“I’ve been wet for the past two weeks straight,” you admit.

“You should’ve told me,” Jungkook says as he licks and nibbles on your earlobe. “Would’ve taken care of you.”

You whine when he starts sucking on your neck just as two of his fingers sink into your cunt.

“Yeah,” you moan. “I’m understanding how grave a mistake that was now.”

He laughs again before returning to his previous endeavor of kissing and licking your throat. His fingers move in and out of you lackadaisically, slowly stretching your hole open as he curls the digits against your front wall to reach that perfect spongy spot. You find yourself gripping his forearm to keep yourself steady as the pleasure threatens to pull you under its waves.

Once Jungkook deems you wet enough, he removes his fingers from your pussy and brings them to your mouth for you to lick clean. As you work your tongue around and between his two middle fingers you hear the rustling of pants behind you. Even though the last time was mere hours ago, your heart is already racing at the thought of him stuffing you full again.

Jungkook runs his dick through your folds and presses the tip against your leaking hole, making your essence coat his head with a pretty sheen. You moan reactively, your head meeting his shoulder while his cock stretches your velvet walls.

The fingers previously between your lips dig into the flesh of your waist as he starts rocking into you from behind. He’s doing all the work, simultaneously pulling your hips back while he thrusts into your cunt mercilessly. You’re thankful for his diligence, because your mind is going haywire from the feeling of him throbbing inside you and the veins of his cock rubbing along your walls. It’d be impossible for you to assist him with anything in this state.

He’s still worshipping your neck with his mouth while fucking you like an animal and the contradicting feeling forces your eyes into your skull.

“You’re so fucking tight, Bams. So wet… you’re making me fucking crazy.” His warm breath on your neck makes you keen.

“More, Koo, I need more of you,” you reply.

Jungkook hears you loud and clear. He holds your waist with both arms to keep you snug against him so he can thrust into you with more force, his pace speeding up in conjecture with the extra effort.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp. “Jungkook.”

“Yeah? This what you wanted?”

“Fuck, yes, you’re so fucking big, Koo,” you whine.

He relentlessly fucks into your cunt, rolling his hips against your ass and sending his cock straight to your g-spot. Your nails make crescent moons on his arm where you’re still holding on for dear life. The other hand stretches before you to clutch the sheets like a vice for fear you’ll lose your mind if you don’t have something in your grasp.

The melody of your moans and his grunts are downright pornagraphic and serves as filthy music to your ears. There’s nothing you want more than for him to continue fucking you, and if you could keep him buried in your cunt for all eternity, you would gladly do so.

“You close?” He asks as he bites your ear.

“Yes.”

“Good, gonna make a mess of you, Bambi.”

The erotic combination of words, tickling breaths, his firm chest behind you, and the massive cock spreading your pussy apart have you going institutionally insane. Somehow, he manages to gain more speed as your orgasms near and the imminent release makes you scream. It’s barely a second later that you’re coming with a pathetic cry of his name. He follows immediately, his cum marking your walls as his own while he repeatedly fucks his seed into you.

His hips never cease their movement even once your highs wane, he just continues rolling into your cunt while his cock softens inside of you. You whimper from the oversensitivity, but even the uncomfortable pressure doesn’t make you stop him. The feeling of having him within you is too addicting to let it end just yet.

Eventually, he stops lazily fucking you, but even then he still doesn’t pull out. You hold the position until sleep brings you both back into its embrace, Jungkook’s arms securely around you while the dripping mixture of your essences pools on the bed below.

Taglist: @lovingkoalaface @starcandybby @junniesoleilkth @keylime4eva @kissyfacekoo @rpwprpwprpwprw @spideyjimin @jjeonjjk7 @joonlover1207 @annpeachy @rexana19 @heartwith0uthe @kosmos1307 @minyoongi7016 @magicalnachocreator @misschelliejeon @bubblyi3 @bhonbhon @polnaraffsrack @amarawayne @majesticjung-97 @kmpj9 @upo1313 @songbyeonkim @kikikaaa @glowjuli @avawants2havefun @hyeinwluv85s @someonegoood @kyljjk

-> The Second Trimester

#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #army #jeon jungkook #bts jk #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts smut #ot7

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spideyjimin · 10 months ago

Text

effet mer | jjk

⤷ effet mer, french for sea effect, but it’s a play on word. effet mer and éphémère are pronounced the same way in french and éphémère stands for ephemeral.

⏤ pairing: jungkook x female reader

⏤ genre: best friend's brother, kinda strangers to lovers, roommates au, angst, fluff, and smut

⏤ rating: 18+

⏤ words: 11,197

⏤ summary: everything we face in life is ephemeral, nothing stays forever, even the bad. when you and your roommate, jungkook, face devastating breakups, you leave everything to spend some days at the beach holding the world’s record of the highest waves. it brings you comfort but also brings you closer as you get to truly know each other.

⏤ warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, mention of cheating, mention of breakups, jungkook and oc are completely broken, mention of sex, teasing, a lot of making out, nipple play, mention of nipple sucking, face riding, oral sex (f & m receiving), hair pulling, dom!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, tattooed!jungkook, praising, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, riding, missionary, doggy style, creampie, multiple orgasms, and overstimulation

⏤ author’s note: here it is the little fic 🤗 i had a lot of fun writing this, especially since i’m talking about a place very dear to me & also since i get to promote a bit of my culture in a fic (a first time for me). as a portuguese, this is very special & i think this fic will hold a special place in my heart 💞 hope you’ll enjoy it & let me know what you think ✨

Nazaré (check out this video so you get to visualize the little town)

MASTERLIST | MOODBOARD

The waves.

The crashing of the waves against the sturdy rock and soft sand is the only sound echoing in your ears. It brings an immense sense of comfort, the only sound calming your tormented soul. Coming here, you knew it would quiet the turmoil within your mind.

The sight of the waves colliding against the monumental rock also brings peace. It’s thrilling to see what Mother Nature can do. The waves are incredibly high and powerful, offering you and any person present a wonderful show. For years, you wished to come see those impressive waves but never got the chance.

What brings you here is your roommate, Jungkook, who’s also the older brother of your best friend, Joongki. You’ve been living under the same roof for five years already. You were looking for a bed during your college years, he was looking for a roommate, and Joongki put you together.

Even though you’ve been living together for a long time, you barely know each other. Jungkook is a night owl, basically living at night, and during the day, whenever he’s awake, he’s at his girlfriend’s place. Well, ex-girlfriend now. On your side, you’d also spend a tremendous amount of time with your boyfriend in and out of the apartment. Well, your now ex-boyfriend.

Your ex-boyfriend and his ex-girlfriend are what brought you and Jungkook here. His girlfriend was cheating on him while your boyfriend didn’t love you anymore.

It’s hard. Way too hard.

Amid your pain, Jungkook proposed to drop everything for a couple of days and go to a place you both have always desired to visit. Praia do Norte (North Beach in English). It’s a beach located in Portugal, in Nazaré to be precise. The city isn’t far from the capital, Lisbon.

This coastal town is known for its massive waves, some of which can reach heights over 100 feet - 30 meters during winter time.

Years ago, you spent some days with your friends in Nazaré in July. It was already a breathtaking place. You saw pictures everywhere of the impressive waves. After that, it became your dream to see them. Life happened and you never got to go there.

Jungkook, on his side, heard of this place through a documentary he once watched. Throughout his entire relationship with his ex, he proposed her to travel to that town, but she never was really interested.

Randomly, through a very rare conversation, you found out about your mutual interest in Nazaré. Then, when your hearts got broken, you found yourselves being locked up in the apartment, crying like babies. Jungkook suggested the coastal town, and you embarked on this little journey together.

As a wave is forming in the sea, you grab your phone to record it. Although you foresee it to be impressive, it exceeds all your expectations. It’s breathtaking, and by far, the prettiest natural event your eyes have ever witnessed.

“Woow,” you say while firmly holding your phone in your hands.

You’re completely mesmerized by the impressive wave, you forget about everything. It’s just you and the wave. It’s an incredible feeling, one you hadn’t felt in a while. Being here genuinely brings you comfort to your soul.

Slowly, you turn your head to look at the person who brought you here, Jungkook. He’s also looking at the sea with the same face as yours, and it makes you smile. There’s not much you know about this man. Sometimes you wonder how he is like. Everything you know about him, you’ve heard it from Joongki. It’s quite odd that you don’t really know anything about your roommate but it has always been fine for you like that.

“That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” Jungkook says with evident bliss in his eyes.

Jungkook and Joongki are quite similar. Physically, you mean. They share the same pair of doe eyes, the same eye and hair color, the same facial shape, and the same smile. A lot of people mistake them for twins because they really look a lot like each other.

The first time you saw Jungkook, you also thought it was your best friend’s twin. But as time passed, you noticed how different they can be. Jungkook clearly looks older than his brother, he’s after all three years older than Joongki.

“Couldn’t agree more with you”, you tell him with your eyes still on him.

For the past three months, you’ve been wondering how his ex-girlfriend could have cheated on him. He’s clearly a good-looking man, and on top of that, he doesn’t seem like a bad guy. You’re not sure to understand in general how someone can cheat. Wouldn’t it be easier to simply say: “I want to be with someone else”? At least, your ex had the decency to say it.

You chase away those thoughts before crying in front of thousands of people, and especially before ruining your entire trip.

Your eyes look again at the sea. It’s slowly getting colder. As time passes, the sea looks more and more furious, the waves are only getting bigger and bigger, and as they hit the rock, water is thrown at your faces.

You’re fully covered to try to protect yourself as much as possible from the water, but it seems not enough. But it’s incredible to be here.

“Do you want to stay any longer?” Jungkook asks while he turns his head to you.

With your roommate, you’ve been watching the waves for already two hours although it doesn’t feel like it. you look down at your phone to check what time it is. It’s already 6:45 pm. As you’ve booked a table for 7:30 pm at a restaurant, it’s probably best to get going. Given the long road to the restaurant, you must leave to ensure you’re on time.

“I don’t think so,” you answer. “We still need to walk to the restaurant and it might take some time,” your eyes look around as you think about the fact you still have to walk for a bit. “And I made a reservation at 7:30 pm for tonight, so it’s best to keep going.”

Jungkook simply nods, agreeing with you. Slowly, you turn around and walk away from the waves. You look behind you one last time to admire a wave crashing against the impressive rock.

Jungkook has yet to learn where the restaurant is. He’s never been in this town while you have. So he doesn’t have much choice but to follow you around. On top of it, you’re the one who made the reservation so for sure, you know where the restaurant is.

If someone had told him five years ago he’d be in Nazaré with his new roommate, he would have never believed it. Probably, he would have laughed at their face. Outside the fact that you’re his little brother's best friend, he doesn’t know much about you. It has never bothered him not to know you.

However, since you’re both single, things are different. You’ve been talking and even traveling abroad together. Presumably, traveling with a stranger isn’t the best idea but he fundamentally trusts you. You’re not completely a stranger to him, but there’s very little if nothing he knows about you.

But he doesn’t mind. After all, you’re both here to enjoy the impressive waves.

Nazaré’s downtown is made of tiny streets which gives its charm. Based on the info he found about the town, it’s the typical type of street in Portugal. So far, he has been loving this town. For sure, the waves are quite a big deal, but the coastal town is captivating. He loves everything about Nazaré, and he’s only been here for a day.

The people are also extremely nice and always smiling even though sometimes it’s hard to communicate with them since they only speak Portuguese. But there’s always a way to understand each other. He’s genuinely happy to be here, and he’s already thinking about coming back more frequently, maybe even during summertime to discover the town from another perspective. It must be so different from wintertime.

After a long walk, you finally reach the restaurant located on a very small street. Jungkook is definitely falling in love with this city. Right now, he’s kind of grateful he never came with his ex otherwise it would have been excruciating to be here. Most probably, he wouldn’t be here today with you.

You enter the restaurant, and a man comes in your direction. “Olá,” he firstly says. Based on the very limited words he got to learn in the past 24 hours, Jungkook knows that ‘olá’ is the portuguese equivalent of ‘hello’.

“Olá,” you answer in portuguese. “We have a reservation for 2 under the name y/l/n,” you continue in english.

“Let me quickly check,” he moves to a little piece of furniture at the entrance composed of some books and a cash register.

Jungkook takes a look at the restaurant. It’s very small but definitely very charming.

“Follow me, please,” says the waiter when he comes back to you.

The waiter shows you a little table on the left corner of the restaurant. This very cozy place is already crowded, most definitely a popular place to be in Nazaré.

“Here are the menus,” he hands you both menus.

“They do fantastic pizzas here,” you say once the waiter leaves. “I came here once with my friends and promised myself I’d come here again.”

“Let’s see,” a little smile appears on Jungkook’s face.

For a hot minute, he stares at you while you look down at the menu.

Since the moment, he met you he always believed his little brother was in love with you. He couldn’t stop talking about you with such a spark in his eyes. However, as time went by, he realized he was wrong, or at least partially. His eyes have a spark because he adores you as a friend and because you seem to be a wonderful person. There is something about you that is appealing, Jungkook won’t deny it.

In the past 24 hours, he’s got to learn a bit more about you. Even though it’s pretty obvious you’re still trying to get over a breakup, you’ve been immensely excited to be here and show him around the places you know. And he’s been lucky to see a bright spark in your eyes. You’re without any doubt in love with this coastal town, he can tell that.

The pizzas were, as you remember, fucking delicious. Jungkook even admitted it afterward.

Funnily enough, during dinner, you got to discuss with the owner, who was also acting as a waiter. He’s actually french. He came here once, fell in love with the town, and decided to move here. He then opened this restaurant with his mother, and luckily, it’s always crowded. It can be calmer during periods but it’s always for a short time.

“Not sure I’ll want to come back home after this stay,” Jungkook tells you as you’re making your way to the little apartment you’re staying in.

“Me neither,” you say.

The only thought of leaving this place breaks your heart. Once you get back home, reality will hit you. You’ll once more be reminded of your lost love. Maybe the pain will be more bearable as you’ve taken some time for yourself here in Nazaré.

The rest of the walk until the apartment is made in silence while you look around. Everything about this place screams perfection. The people, the food, the views, the tiny houses, the sea, and everything else. Nazaré will now be your safe place on earth. It’ll be the place you’ll always look forward to coming again. Strangely, it feels like you belong here.

When you’re not very far from the apartment, it starts raining, and not just a bit. The two of you put the hood of your jackets on your heads.

“Let’s run to the apartment?” Jungkook asks.

The only answer you gave him is starting to run.

“Eeeh,” he screams while he starts running after you. “Wait for me.”

A little chuckle escapes your lips when you hear him complain. Since you run in the opposite direction of the rain, it hits you right in the face. It’s not pleasant at all, but you’ll soon reach the place you’re renting. But running in the middle of those tiny streets with Jungkook behind you makes you feel alive.

In a matter of seconds, Jungkook catches you. For a brief moment, you look at each other with the brightest smiles on your faces. You’re both feeling the same, you know it. Your roommate grabs your hand while you keep running under the heavy rain. He holds your hand tightly in his, the warmth of his hand contrasting with the cold weather outside.

Feeling his hand in yours unimaginably warms your heart.

When you reach the apartment, you both stop at the main entrance. Briefly, you’re standing face to face, breathing hard, and staring deep into each other’s eyes. Over the years, you didn’t really have the opportunity to see him up close, but lately, it feels like you’ve only been physically close.

This closeness has allowed you to really look at him. Although Jungkook looks a lot like your best friend, he’s more attractive, charming, and alluring. This man can have any woman he desires, but he chooses not. It’s understandable due to his recent breakup. But based on how Joongki speaks about him, he’s never been a womanizer. He’s more of an ‘i want a long-term relationship’ guy.

Jungkook’s hand brushes a strand of hair falling on your face. The simple touch of his fingers against your skin sends shivers down your spine. The two of you don’t cease to stare into each other eyes. This simple and intimate moment is something you never thought would happen five years ago.

Well, even yesterday, you never thought it’d happened.

You’re interrupted by someone leaving the apartment complex standing in front of you. By reflex, you take a step back, creating some space between you and Jungkook. The person greets you before disappearing behind you.

Before the main entrance door closes, Jungkook takes a big step to keep it open. “After you,” he smiles at you while he gestures for you to come inside the complex. A smile spreads across your face as you make your way inside. When you pass by him, you take in his strong perfume. He smells so good.

Joongki’s brother follows you, closing the door behind him. The apartment is located on the first floor so luckily, you only have to climb a few steps. You hurry up because you only want to be warm.

Once in front of the door, you take the keys from your pocket. Your winter jacket contains a massive pocket on the inside. You’ve placed all your important belongings like your phone, ID Card, bank card, and the keys. At least you’re sure you won’t lose anything nor anything won’t be stolen.

Once inside, the first thing you do is remove your jackets, and shoes. It’s a bit warmer inside but you still need to turn on the heating. The two of you head to the small living room.

The place you rent isn’t big, but it’s enough for you. There’s no need to have a massive apartment for two people. Two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a bathroom are largely enough. No need for more.

The owner of the apartment left some portuguese liqueurs for you to enjoy. He advised you to start with ‘Licor Beirão’. As the owner said, it’s a sweet liqueur that tastes like orange. You haven’t tasted it yet but tonight you feel like you really want to.

“Do you want to taste the famous liqueur the owner advises us to taste?” you ask Jungkook as you grab the bottle from a wardrobe.

For a brief moment, Jungkook simply watches you while you hold the bottle in your hand. The look he gives you makes you feel a bit special as it is the same look he gave you at the complex entrance.

“Why not,” he replies with a smile.

Your roommate goes to the kitchen to grab two glasses. He remembers that the owner told you to put a cube of ice in your drink to make it even better. He said: “Licor Beirão without ice tastes like shit.” A smirk appears on his face when he recalls those words.

When he comes back with the glasses, you don’t waste any second to poor a bit of liqueur. You hand one of the glasses to your roommate and take the other. While you both take a seat on the couch, you take a sip of your drink.

“Fuck,” Jungkook says. “It’s delicious.”

A little laugh escapes your lips as you hear him slobber about the drink. Your eyes wander a tiny bit on his face.

“Indeed,” you say.

It’s certainly not bad at all. It’s also not that strong for a liqueur, maybe the sweetness hides the hardness of the alcohol. Probably, you won’t be drinking much since you don’t really want to end up drunk in front of Jungkook. You’ll for sure embarrass yourself.

“This will definitely warm me after this cold rain,” Jungkook says while taking another sip.

You put your drink down on the coffee table before sitting properly on the couch and placing a blanket on top of your legs.

“It’s still unbelievable that we’re here,” you tell him.

“Yep, yep,” he nods and takes another sip. “I would have never bet that one day, I’d travel with you.” He puts down his drink next to yours and sits closer to you.

This closeness is something you still need to adjust to. It’s so new.

“Me neither,” you say. “I actually never pictured myself traveling with someone else than Guwon,” you almost whisper at the end of the sentence.

Guwon was your boyfriend for more than five years. You were dreaming of starting a family with him, seriously considering moving in with him and already discussing marriage. You were madly in love with him and you strongly believed that he was your forever person. But you got it all wrong.

One day, out of the blue, he told you that he didn’t love you anymore. It devastated you beyond comprehension. You begged for an explanation because how can someone fall out of love? It was inconceivable for you that after all that time, he stopped loving you. He didn’t give you an explanation, he just said he didn’t love you anymore.

However, everything made sense when you found out he was dating a colleague shortly after your breakup. When that colleague joined the company he’s working for, you still remember that he wouldn’t stop talking about her. He praised her so much. Until one day, he stopped doing it. But right after, he told you he didn’t love you anymore so no need to be a genius to understand he started loving her.

It hurt even more.

“I also never thought I’d be one day traveling with someone else than Yoojung,” he adds.

You bring your legs against your chest and you look down for a little bit. There are so many questions you want to ask him about his breakup but you’re not sure it’s appropriate.

“Can I ask you a question?” you dare to say.

Jungkook simply nods while looking at you.

“How did you find out about the cheating?”

Your roommate is taken aback by your question. As you notice the expression on his face, you instantly realize that you crossed a line. Now you regret your question.

“Sorry…” Before you can even continue your sentence, Jungkook replies to your question.

“A couple of months before, we stopped being intimate,” he starts saying while looking down. “Every time I’d try to initiate anything, she’d give me an excuse. Most of the time, it’d be tiredness. Then, we slowly started not to see or even text each other as often.”

His eyes now look up, meeting yours filled with sadness and empathy. The same gaze you gave him when he informed you of his separation.

“At first, I didn’t really notice it, but when people started asking me about her, I’d never be able to give them an answer. So I started to realize something was off.”

You can hear in his voice how it still breaks him.

“One day, I simply went to her place without informing her, and that’s when I saw the other guy.”

Now, your heart breaks for him. In an act of kindness, you grab his hand and squeeze it. Jungkook looks down at your hands, and you gently stroke the back of his hand with your fingers. From the way he suddenly glances at you, you can tell that the gesture moves him.

“That must have been horrible,” you softly say.

The man in front of you simply nods.

“Thankfully, I didn’t see anything that would have destroyed me but you could tell by the way they were looking at each other that they were at least sleeping together. She confessed it afterwards and I left her.”

Definitely, you want to hug this man. It’s so heartbreaking what he went through. It’s never easy to find out to have a cheating partner. Even though you never considered Guwon to have cheated on you, you wonder if he didn’t. Maybe he kissed his colleague or even went further and left you afterward.

“Apparently she’s with that guy now, but I don’t care,” he tells you. “I prefer to ignore what she’s doing now and who she’s with.”

You couldn’t agree more with him. She and Guwon have broken your hearts enough, no need to torture yourselves in knowing what they are doing now.

“All I care is to heal,” he whispers.

You caress his hand with your thumb. Although you’re doing it to comfort him, it also has the same effect on you.

“Looks like you’re going in the right direction,” you tell him with a little smile. “You didn’t cry.”

Barely a week ago, he wasn’t able to say her name without falling apart. It’s a big step into healing.

A very tiny smile spreads across his face when he realizes that you’re right. He didn’t cry while talking about the most heartbreaking moment he faced in life.

“You’re right,” he grabs his drink to take a sip. “It’s even better now with the ice,” he totally changes the topic of conversation.

You can’t blame him, talking about his cheating ex isn’t pleasant. Plus, you’re here to try to move on from the terrible things Guwon and Yoojung did.

“Let me taste,” Jungkook hands you your drink before you can even bend to get it from the table. “Thanks,” you whisper with a little shy smile.

Your roommate winks at you as a way to say ‘you’re welcome’, but oddly, it increases the heat of the room. Very quickly, you drink a bit of the liquor. It instantly cools off a bit the warmth you’re feeling inside you due to Jungkook.

The liqueur definitely tastes better with ice. The owner was right. Well, you never doubt it since he’s portuguese and knows his country better than anyone else. You’re looking right in front of you since you’re feeling Jungkook’s eyes on you. You’re not brave enough to face him because you know your cheeks will instantly turn red.

“You know,” he starts saying. “For a long time, I was convinced you and my brother were in love,” you almost choke with your drink when you hear those words. “You’d always be together, almost acting like a couple, but then I found out you were in a relationship so it changed my perspective,” he adds. “Also with time, I realized that it was your way to be friends.”

You’ve been friends with Joongki for more or less six years, but only a couple of months later, you got to actually meet Jungkook. Of course, you’d already heard a lot about him since your best friend would mention him a lot, but he was living abroad back then.

And well, if you’re a hundred percent honest, you had a crush on Joongki when you met him. How could you not? Joongki is very good-looking, he’s funny, he’s adorable, and, beyond anything else, he has the biggest heart on earth. Then, that crush eventually faded, and you met Guwon so everything changed.

However, you’re never going to say anything about this crush, especially to Jungkook.

Nevertheless, your reaction intrigues your roommate. Your eyes widen, you take a big sip of the liquor, and you try to hide your face.

“You actually liked my brother,” he points out with evident playfulness in his voice.

“No,” you immediately retort.

Obviously, it’s a lie. You’re trying as much as possible to hide yourself but it’s basically impossible. Jungkook is right next to you.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I won’t tell him anything, it’s none of my business.”

You finally look up at him, and for fuck’s sake, he looks stunning. You take another sip. At this pace, your drink will be over in 30 seconds, and you’ll be drunk by then since you don’t know how strong this liqueur is.

“I’m sure he had a crush on you too at first,” he smiles at you.

Jungkook gets closer to you, his breath crashing against your neck once he’s very close. Your heart starts acting crazy inside your chest, your heartbeat increasing drastically. You’re both staring at each other, and his eyes are very dark.

“I mean I would too if I was Joongki,” he whispers in your ear.

Fuck, this man manages to cause goosebumps all over your body in a matter of seconds. His eyes look up at you, the mood has completely changed. It’s not anymore casual, it’s really giving the ‘i want to kiss you’ vibes. But as you think better about this, it has changed the second it started to rain.

His eyes switch from your lips to your eyes a couple of times. Without any doubt, you do the same, you even bite your lower lip. You’re definitely desperate to kiss each other. There’s absolutely no doubt.

Still, you’re unsure if you really want this to happen. You enjoy being here with Jungkook and getting to know him better, but once you kiss, everything between you will change forever. He wouldn’t simply be your roommate and your best friend’s brother anymore.

Nevertheless, there’s nothing you want more right now.

You want to know how it feels to be kissed by him, and how it feels to kiss someone with a lip piercing. Your imagination is going wild at the moment.

You clear your throat and take a step back while placing your hands on his chest. “We can’t,” you shake your head. “It’s not a good idea.”

Jungkook nods before simply sitting on the couch as he was before. You take a deep breath, trying to gather yourself after this rather intense moment.

Jungkook stares at the ceiling of the bedroom he’s staying in. His mind keeps repeating the moment he almost kissed you. It was quite clear you wanted it as well, but he still doesn’t understand why you push him away. He wonders if it’s maybe too soon for you. Maybe you don’t want to kiss someone else three months after your breakup.

He sighs. Hopefully, this moment won’t create tension or something like that between you for the rest of your stay. It’s not what he wanted.

Suddenly, he is pulled out of his reverie when he hears a shy knock on the door. He frowns before standing up to open the door. He’s greeted by your sleepy face and messy hair. A little smile appears on his face because he can’t help but find you adorable.

“I can’t fall asleep,” you tell him while rubbing your eyes. “Can I sleep with you?”

Well, now that you’re here asking him to sleep here, he’s sure that he didn’t ruin anything. It’s definitely a relief for him.

“Yes, yes,” he says while opening the door a little wider.

Without hesitation, you enter the room and he closes the door behind you. He makes his way to the bed before you lay next to him. At first, you put some distance between you two since you’re both unsure what to do. On top of that, you’re both looking at the ceiling as if you’re scared to look at each other. Jungkook can feel his heart beating fast inside his chest. He has never been this nervous to be around a woman that he likes.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” you tell him while turning your face to look at him.

Honestly, this surprises him. “About what exactly?” Obviously, he knows what you’re referring to but he still wants you to say it out loud.

“When I pushed you away.”

Jungkook ignores what he can say right now.

“Don’t be sorry,” those are the only words crossing his mind.

Still, you keep talking as if he didn’t say anything. “I really wanted to kiss you.” His heart beats even faster now. “But if we do it, it will change everything between us, and I’m not sure I want that.”

Well, he’s glad you explained why you pushed him away although you didn’t need to. You have your reasons and he can only accept that. Jungkook turns now to his right to finally see your face. You look angelic from this perspective.

“Why so?” he dares to ask.

For what feels like an eternity, you don’t talk, probably thinking about the proper answer to give him. His heart is still hammering very fast in his chest, nervous about your answer. This silence feels heavy for him, but all he can do is remain patient.

“Honestly, I don’t really have a reason,” you say when you break the silence. “Up until now, we were simply roommates and you were Joongki’s brother,” you take a deep breath. “And it was fine like that.” Jungkook’s eyes deviate for a split second to your lips while you speak. “However, everything is different since we came here. You aren’t really a stranger anymore, I got to know you better and to spend good moments with you.”

Jungkook couldn’t agree more with you. No matter what, when you go back home, your relationship and dynamic will forever be different. In a good way, though. As you mentioned, you’re no longer strangers now.

“I’m not sure I’m ready for more changes in my life,” you confess while biting your lower lip.

But the changes are already happening.

“I totally understand you, yn,” he simply answers.

Well, the only change Jungkook wants right now is your relationship. It’s evolving in interesting ways and he doesn’t want to hold back this shift between you.

"A lot has already happened this past few months,” he adds.

For sure, he prefers things would have happened differently but what can he do? This year has been too chaotic. Being here in Nazaré right now is the only thing that has been able to calm him down. Just for a moment, he can cut himself off the reality to truly rest and heal.

Slowly, you get closer to him. You only stop when he can feel your hot breath crashing against his face. You’re super super close now. His eyes roam your pretty face, admiring it as much as he can under the light of the night. How could he not notice before how beautiful you are?

“But the more I think about it, the more I get desperate to kiss you,” your words echo in the room. This is as well unexpected for him. “I’m not sure of anything but fuck, I crave nothing more than to feel your…”

Before you can even finish your sentence, your roommate crashes his lips against yours. You’re caught by surprise at first, but then, you kiss him back with the same passion. Although it’s a passionate kiss, it’s very soft at first. Jungkook doesn’t want to rush anything, he wants to enjoy this moment. His left hand moves to your cheek, caressing it.

The kiss is so passionate and deep. Jungkook's lips are soft against yours like he is scared to break you as he kisses you. But they feel good on yours, it’s as if they were meant to kiss you.

As he’s kissing you, he regrets not having noticed you before. You’re hot, good-looking, intelligent, and above anything else, a wonderful person. For sure, he was in love with Yoojung, but he should have seen you before.

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate one second when you part your lips to let his tongue meet yours. Your tongues meet for an erotic and slow dance. This is intense, but so fucking good.

Out of breath, you break the kiss but your roommate’s hand remains on your cheek. You close your eyes briefly, and his eyes stay on you. Even though you’re not kissing anymore, he still can sense your lips on his.

Jungkook pushes you against him, your head against his toned chest. He places his head on top of yours after pressing a gentle kiss on your head. He’s not sure about what will happen from now on, but he’s certain of one thing, he doesn’t want to let you go.

Shortly after, you both fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Slowly, you open your eyes. The sun irradiates the room and at first, you close your eyes again as the sun is way too bright.

While you move in the bed, you rub your eyes before opening them again. Gradually, you perceive the figure lying in bed next to you. A smile spreads across your face when you realize it’s Jungkook.

The man is looking at you with the brightest smile on his face. He seems happier than ever. You haven’t seen him like that since his split with his ex-girlfriend. That alone makes you smile even more.

“Good morning,” he says.

“Good morning to you too,” you reply.

For a moment, you remain in silence, looking simply at each other. This right here definitely makes you happy. You don’t need anything else. Well, you still want to go watch the impressive waves, but you can stay here a little longer.

“How was your night?” he asks.

“Good,” you start saying. “I guess all I needed was a kiss to fall asleep,” the biggest smile appears on his absolutely handsome face.

“Well, you should try that more often,” he teasingly says.

“For sure,” you exclaim.

You’re sure that right now, you both look like idiots with the happiest smiles on your faces. You get closer to Jungkook before pressing a gentle peck against his lips. The feeling of the cold metal of his piercing against your lips sends shivers all over your body. It’s quite special to kiss someone with a lip piercing, it’s a first time for you, but it doesn’t change anything about the fact that he kisses like a god. Actually, you’d say that with the piercing it makes the kiss even more intense.

The man in front of you presses another peck on your lips before pressing a thousand others more, causing you to giggle. This sound, you haven’t heard it in months, and you’re grateful Jungkook is responsible for it.

Then, the kisses move to your cheeks, your forehead, your jaw, the corner of your lips, and finally, they start to descend to your neck. You can feel his round nose pressed against your neck as his lips kiss your skin. Instantly, your hands move to his hair to play with it. A very soft and barely audible moan escapes your lips.

This jovial and playful moment has turned into a very heated one.

Jungkook’s lips keep going down, dangerously getting closer to your cleavage. Your breath is getting heavier, your heart beating faster, and your eyes fluttering shut. As he gets closer and closer, soft moans leave your lips, indicating to Joongki’s brother that he’s doing everything well.

Before he even reaches your breasts, he retreats to take a look at your pretty face. When you feel the cold air brushing against your skin, you open your eyes to watch him. His teeth are now playing with the metal ring on his lips while his eyes are clearly devouring you. Dam, this is turning you on.

“Do we keep going?”

You’re about to answer when suddenly, his phone starts buzzing. Someone is trying to call him. He turns around to check who’s calling him.

“It’s Joongki,” he says before answering.

Jungkook sits on the bed, and you do exactly the same. The call doesn’t last long, your roommate barely talks, it’s mostly your best friend talking, you can hear it. Once he puts his phone down, he looks at you.

“He tried to call you, but since you weren’t answering, he was getting worried,” he tells you.

You only nod. “Maybe I should go call him,” you say.

“Well,” Jungkook says as his face gets closer to yours once more. “Maybe you could call him later,” he teasingly says. “He interrupted something.”

A smile appears on your face before you kiss him with evident passion. For sure, your best friend interrupted something, and he can wait because you’re slowly but surely getting desperate for his brother.

“He can probably wait a little bit longer,” you whisper against his lips.

Your teeth bite his lower lip, causing him to moan. That sound alone makes you grow wetter inside your panties. His hands move down to your waist, and before you can even comprehend, they are pushing your pajama pants down your legs.

Once they are at your ankle, his lips hungrily kiss you. You’re definitely desperate for this man. You want more. You don’t simply want to be kissed by this man. You want him to rail the shit out of you. Hopefully, he’s good in bed.

While eagerly kissing each other, you lay down in bed. Jungkook is now hovering over you, his mouth still on yours. By reflex, your legs open to welcome him after removing your pants with your feet. He presses his hips against yours, his growing bulge now against your wet core. That sensation alone makes you moan.

Teasingly, he slowly rolls his hips against yours, but he doesn’t stop kissing you as a desperate man. You hold his pajama shirt firmly as you moan against his lips. Without any doubt, your panties are getting soaked. Jungkook is fucking you when you’re still fully clothed.

His lips finally set free from yours so he can rest his forehead against yours. His lusty eyes stare deep into yours which causes you to moan. Your walls clench around emptiness, but you’re slowly getting desperate to feel something inside you.

Jungkook’s hips stop moving only for him to speak. “Sit on my face,” he says. “But first, remove your underwear, angel,” he adds.

No need to be a genius to understand that he wants to eat you out while you sit on his face. It’s something you never tried before so you’re not sure how this is supposed to go. However, you desire nothing more than being eaten out by this man so you do as he says so.

In a matter of seconds, you throw your underwear onto the floor. Jungkook moves to be now lying down in bed with an eager smile on his face. He bites his lower lip when he sees your core.

“I’ve never done that before,” you confess when you get closer to him.

“Okay,” he nods. “All you have to do is sit on my face and enjoy the ride, love,” he tells you.

The little cute nicknames make your heart flutter.

You place yourself over his head, your heart pounding fast. You feel a bit shy to have your pussy on full display on his face.

“Nice,” he tells you. “Now, bring yourself closer to my face,” you do as he says so, his hands grabbing your thighs to guide you down against his face. “Perfect,” his hot breath tickles your core which makes you move a tiny bit.

The sweet scent of your arousal makes him hungry, causing him to lick his lips. “Your cunt smells so good, yn,” he whispers against your core.

His nose brushes against your core, a small moan leaving your lips at the feeling. As he hears the barely audible moan, he deliberately breathes against your throbbing core, the cool air sending shivers down your spine. Slowly, you grow wetter which gives him more juices to lap. A smirk grows on his face when he notices it.

Before you can even process what is happening, he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking at it. The coldness of his lip piercing and the tickling of his nose on your core instantly send goosebumps throughout your entire body. Little moans leave your lips while he starts to torture you with his mouth. It surprises you how cold his piercing is.

This is by far the best oral sex experience you’ve ever had. First of all, nobody else has ever eaten you out like that. And on top of that, you’re wondering how on earth you’ve never done it this way. In this position, it feels like you can sense everything even more.

Automatically, you bury your hand in Jungkook’s hair, pulling it as he laps your sensitive clit with his tongue. A groan rumbles from his chest, the sound echoing against your skin. You close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of having his nose in your core. He makes sure to take his time as he wants you to grow wetter and wetter, he doesn’t want to rush things because he wants you two to enjoy this moment.

After a little while, he buries his tongue in your hole, causing an explosion of fireworks inside you. The man laps at your arousal as if his life was at stake. His eyes glance up at you, enjoying the way your body is contorting with delight. An evil smirk appears on his face while he keeps lapping at your juices. Your back arches, causing you to push your pussy closer to his mouth, and a trail of moans escapes your pretty lips.

“So pretty,” Jungkook mutters against your core.

Naturally, you start rolling your hips over his head, your hand running and pushing your hair back in order to not stick against your face as you start to sweat. The moans get louder as the wave of pleasure begins to strongly build within your lower stomach, his ears hissing at the sweet but loud sounds.

His eyes glance down with marvel at your core. Everything about you is extremely wonderful.

Jungkook senses the orgasm building stronger inside you at an extremely fast pace. Your body is moving more and more, your walls are clenching way too much, and your moans are also getting high-pitched. The man starts to suck harder on your core to make you come all over his face. That’s all he wishes for right now.

Your free hand goes to the headboard of the bed to hold yourself onto something. The man below you is sucking and lapping every single drop of your arousal, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. It’s a matter of seconds before you come undone all over his face.

“Jungkook,” you mutter as your hips desperately roll over his face.

The man underneath you detaches his mouth when your legs start shaking, indicating that your orgasm is finally hitting you intensely. His name leaves your mouth when the wave of pleasure explodes inside you, your back arching even more, and you close your eyes to enjoy every second of it.

Your arousal leaks over his pretty lips while he watches with marvel at the way you come over his face. This man is without any doubt very skilled with his mouth and tongue. Not only does he kiss well, but he also knows how to bring pleasure.

Jungkook moves under you, your core now pressed against his covered chest. It takes you a moment to come down from your high, he can even feel your walls clenching against his toned chest. His hands caress your hips, trying to bring you comfort as you come down. His eyes never leave your pretty face.

He swears he has never seen any prettier woman.

His hands are caressing your thighs as he admires you. Your cheeks are red, your hair is a complete mess, and your pretty lips are swollen from the intense making out that happened minutes ago.

When you realize that you’re dirtying his pajama with your arousal, you stand up but his strong hands firmly hold you tight against him. “What are you doing?” he asks with obvious confusion.

“I’m dirtying your pajamas,” you answer.

“Don’t worry about that, angel,” he winks at you.

Since you don’t want to make his pajamas dirtier and you want to give him pleasure, you move your body down on his. This time around, he realizes what you’re about to do. The simple thought of feeling your hand around him makes him grow harder.

Without an ounce of hesitation, you push down his pajamas pants with his underwear. He raises his hips to help you out, and you throw them on the floor. Once his cock is freed, it slaps against his shirt.

Your eyes instantly glance down at the beast between his legs. He is massive. Even massive is probably an understatement. For sure, he holds the record for the biggest dick you’ve ever seen. In a matter of seconds, Jungkook takes the last piece of clothing off his body to be fully naked in front of you.

You patiently wait for him to lay back on the bed so you can place yourself in between his toned legs, your hands running up and down his thighs. You bite your lips as you’re watching him getting naked. His body is very toned. His chest is broad as fuck, and his arm is fully covered in tattoos. This pretty much gives bad-boy vibes. Thankfully, you know that he isn’t one. Well, at least, he doesn’t seem to be one.

You also remove your top in order to be fully naked as well. It’s not as sexy as the way he removed his shirt, but you’re now naked together.

“Can I touch you?” you ask him, your eyes glancing up to meet his.

With his eyes locked with yours, he nods. He’s completely desperate to feel your fingers around him. Since you’re equally desperate to please him, you wrap your hand around the base of his dick.

His head is red, precum running down his length and over that prominent vein that lines it. You rub your thumb over the tip before going down on his shaft, spreading his arousal all over him. A deep moan escapes his lips as your hands finally touch him, his head falling completely on the pillow.

“Damn, angel,” he growls, “you’re touching me so fucking perfectly.”

A smile appears on your face at his words. Based on your ex words, you are very skilled with your hands so you hope to provide a lot of pleasure to Jungkook. You want to reward him with the same pleasure he granted you with his mouth.

Slowly, you start pumping him, your hand gliding up and down his length. A trail of groans leaves his lips while you pump him nice and slow. Every time your hand reaches the base, Jungkook shivers, loving how you’re touching him.

As you pump his massive length with your hands, you never stop glancing at him. There’s nothing more rewarding than seeing him melting in your hands.

It’s absolutely incredible to think that you’re sharing such an intimate moment. Barely a week ago it was inconceivable that you’d be here with him. So, this alone is a surprise. Yesterday night, while you were turning in your bed, you were only thinking about the kiss he almost gave you. And now, you’re basically having sex.

That’s incredible.

After a little while, you dip down to kiss the head of his cock, causing deeper and louder moans to leave his mouth. You lick his tip, his precum coating your tongue before you wrap your mouth entirely around his cock to fully sink down on his length.

“Shit, yn,” he groans, loving the warmth of your mouth around him.

He swears that he’s about to fall apart, painting your throat white with his seed. For a little while, your head bobs up and down his length, your tongue twirling along to try to satisfy him as much as possible. Your roommate closes his eyes while he lets his pleasure overwhelm him.

When he opens his eyes, he’s graced with your filthy eyes staring up at him. He never knew that he desperately needed to see you looking at him like that. That sight alone makes him bust right there, his hot seed filling that pretty mouth of yours. You swallow every single drop of his hot cum, but your eyes never leave his face as he groans loudly.

Jungkook looks incredibly hot when he has an orgasm.

Slowly, he comes down from his high, your mouth leaving his cock to just watch him being completely overwhelmed with his orgasm. He looks like an absolute angel but clearly, an angel that seems to have had his cock sucked. His hair is already messy, and his lips are all wet with your arousal, which honestly looks pretty good on him.

“Would you want to keep going?” he asks with his heavy breathing.

The simple fact that he raises the question melts your heart. Your ex never did that before. Once you’d start, he would just keep going without checking if you’d want to stop or not. Well, obviously, you never wanted him to stop. But now, you wished he could have asked it.

It’s pretty obvious you want more but he still wants to make sure you want it. He’s not going to force you to do anything, he has never been like that. After you pushed him away yesterday, he honestly expected you to do the same as things started to get steamy.

You crawl over his body so both your faces are close. For a brief moment, you just glance at each other. You bend down, your face getting closer to his ear, “yes, I want it,” you whisper with a smile on your face.

Jungkook bites his lower lip, he’s having goosebumps all over his body. “I didn’t bring any condom,” he informs you. “I wasn’t expecting this to happen.”

If he knew beforehand that you’d have sex, he would have bought a hundred condoms. He would have used all your free time to fuck you senseless. But this is highly unexpected.

“Don’t worry,” you say. “I have a vaginal ring.”

For years, you’ve been trying different birth control. At first, it was the pill, but very quickly you changed to the vaginal ring since it felt better than the pill.

You press a sweet kiss on his lips. A sincere smile grows on his face, he’s so happy to be here today with you. With your hands, you grab his little monster before brushing it against your pussy. A whimper leaves his lips while he shuts his eyes close. Slowly, you sink down onto his cock.

A deep moan leaves your mouth as his massive dick stretches you out, your hands falling on his chest to balance yourself. His large hands find their way to your waist, caressing your soft skin while his doe eyes filled with lust look into yours. Both of you groan as he slowly pushes his long and thick cock deeper inside you.

“You’re so big,” you whisper.

“If it’s too big, we can stop,” he proposes.

“Eeeh,” you slap his chest. “There’s no way we stop here, Jungkook.”

Jungkook giggles at your words, his face lighting up when he does so. He’s incredibly beautiful when he’s smiling.

You sit on his lap with his cock almost completely inside you, your eyes looking down at him with a bright smile on your face. Jungkook licks his lips, loving to have this beautiful sight in front of him. At this precise moment, he’s wondering why you both lost your time with your exes. This is a hundred times better than all the times he had sex with his ex, and it’s only the beginning.

Very slowly, you start rolling your hips, causing small whimpers to leave his lips. His eyes never leave you as he wishes you to see him starting to melt down under your slow torture.

“You’re riding me like a pro, yn,” he compliments you, letting you also know that you’re doing it right.

“Thanks,” you sincerely say.

Riding your ex is something you wouldn’t do that often, but you’d enjoy it when it happened.

“But,” he starts saying. “I don’t want this to be any slow.” His hands hold your hips tightly allowing him to turn both your bodies to have you now under him.

“Eeeeh,” you say as he places you under him.

His lips find yours for another kiss, the taste of your juice being all over his soft lips while he can taste a bit of his cum inside your mouth.

“I’m gonna wreck you so bad,” he whispers against your lips. Your walls clench around his cock, causing him to moan at the end of his sentence.

“Then, do it,” you reply. “Ruin me.”

Jungkook slowly pushes back, leaving only the tip of his cock inside you. His eyes never leave your figure, watching you with delight. He brutally pushes his cock fully inside you, a loud moan leaving your lips. For a little while, he doesn't move, hovering over you before his lips meet yours again for a sloppy kiss.

“Will you stay like that forever?” you cock an eyebrow.

“Looks like someone is impatient,” he chuckles.

For a second, his eyes get lost in your body, groaning as he watches himself buried deep inside you. You’re completely intoxicated by the feeling of him stretching your walls.

Without wasting any more time, he pulls back brutally before slamming himself back into you. He leans closer again before licking the spot just under your ear. His hands slowly travel down your body to rest on your hips while his hips slowly thrust into you. The slick sound of your pussy soaking his cock as well as your moans quickly fill the bedroom.

“Damn,” you manage to say. “You really know how to use that cock.”

Sex with your ex was totally different. He’d always prefer to do things nice and slow, it would never be rough. He didn’t like it at all. Honestly, since you didn’t experience much before him, it was fine for you. You enjoyed it as well.

However, now that you’re being fucked by Jungkook, you realize that a bit of roughness can be better.

Jungkook chuckles at your words. “Of course I do,” he whispers in your ear. “After all, I ain’t called the best man in bed for nothing.”

You roll your eyes. This man seems to have quite a big ego. For sure, you can agree so far with that title ⏤ most probably a self-given title ⏤ but you won’t say it.

The feeling of his cock filling you up, his hips hitting against yours with every thrust he makes causes sparks of pleasure to shoot throughout your body, your arousal dripping from your core and creaming his covered cock. He licks his lips as he notices the sticky mess you’re causing.

“You’re making such a mess, yn,” he growls.

His cock is buried deep inside you, brushing against your walls which only causes you to moan even louder. You grip the sheets as hard as possible to steady yourself from Jungkook’s hard thrusts.

“And you’re responsible for that mess,” you teasingly say although you’re completely lost in your euphoric state.

“You’re a fucking tease, yn,” he hisses. “Never imagined you like that.”

“Should have fucked me sooner to find it out,” you wink at him.

Honestly, you’re even surprising yourself by being such a tease. With your ex, you’d talk in bed but it wouldn’t be like this. With Jungkook, you simply can’t help yourself, he’s literally giving you everything to tease him.

“That’s my biggest regret right now, angel,” he manages to say in between his moans.

His hands press harder into your skin when he feels your walls tighten around him. Every time he pushes his hips back, he watches with delight the way his cock is completely covered with your arousal. Nothing drives him crazier than seeing it.

His hands move on your body, grabbing your breasts and squeezing them to make you moan with desire before his fingers start playing with your nipples. Moans flood out of your mouth as he tortures your body like no one else.

“Damn, Jungkook,” you say.

His thrusts become again slow and harsh while his fingers on your nipples are pushing you closer and closer to the edge. This man is without any doubt very skilled when it comes to sex. Fuck, you wished you would have sex sooner.

Gradually, Jungkook resumes to thrust hard into you, and your moans follow his harsh movements as they get louder and louder. Your walls suck his cock as he slams his hips into you harshly. His hands can feel the way your body quivers with each thrust, the way you’re losing yourself further into pleasure.

“Fuck,” he groans when he feels the warmth of your walls wrapping tighter around him. “Your cunt is clenching so hard, angel.”

As you glance up at him, you can’t help but find him extremely attractive. His eyes stare down at you with so much passion and desire as his tongue licks his lower lips. He keeps growling your name, thrusting into you with more urgency. Quickly enough, you sense inside your stomach the powerful feeling of pleasure growing. This is becoming overwhelming.

“Gonna come so hard,” you tell him.

His fingers pinch your nipples while his cock twitches inside of you at your words, a low groan rumbling in his chest.

“Don’t hold back, angel.”

Since he wants to torture you more and more as you get closer to your orgasm, one of his hands slowly goes down on your body, passing your stomach, and landing on your throbbing clit. His fingers start to rub your sensitive spot as his cock keeps slamming roughly inside you.

“Jungkook,” you almost scream in surprise.

His fingers on your clit are what you need for your orgasm to explode intensely, making you come hard around him. Your walls squeeze him over and over again while you come all over him.

While you’re completely euphoric from your orgasm, he speeds up the pace of his hips slamming into you, wanting to chase his own high. The coil in his lower stomach tightens inside of him, and it completely clouds his thoughts.

Breathy whines escape his pretty lips as he looks down at the mess you made. A loud groan leaves his mouth when his orgasm hits him hard, your name rolling out of his tongue. His eyes roll back with pleasure as his body tenses up and releases his load inside you, his semen painting your walls white.

Jungkook collapses over you, both your bodies covered in sweat. While you both come down from your high, you simply enjoy this proximity. You wrap your arms around his body to hold him tightly against you. Nobody talks. The room is only filled with your heavy breathing while you caress his back.

This is a fantastic way to start the day. After this steamy session, for sure, your day is only going to be amazing. Hot sex with Jungkook in Nazaré is a combo you never thought you needed.

However, once you are calmer, Jungkook stands up with a smile on his face. He doesn’t need to say anything else for you to understand that there will be a round 2. Fuck, this man has an impressive stamina.

“On your fours, angel,” he growls.

“So now, it’s doggy style,” you say as you follow his order, positioning yourself on your hands and knees but you make sure that your ass and pussy are on full display to him.

Jungkook gets closer to you. “My favorite position ever,” he whispers against your ear.

Your roommate takes a step back, his hand holding his hard dick to stroke it a bit as he places himself behind you. His tongue licks his lips while his eyes are glued to your pussy. Slowly, you press your chest against the mattress to give him more visibility to your wet core. You can still feel inside you his release.

Jungkook’s hand touch your pussy to gently touch it. “Still fucking wet,” he mumbles but you can hear it.

“Because you’re fucking me senseless,” you reply, and you moan when he slaps your pussy. Fuck, you’ll have an orgasm before he’ll even be inside you.

“That’s the whole point of what we’re doing,” he grabs your right arm to pin it behind your back, slowly shoving his cock into you again.

You whine, your teeth biting your lower lip as he resumes to pound into you again. He slowly rolls his hips into your pussy.

“Shit, I’m not going to last long,” he grunts.

He leans down, his right hand going down from your waist to your thighs. His fingers brush against your clit, making you moan a bit louder, and they pinch your clit while you bite harder on your lower lip. The man behind you never ceases to thrust into you harshly, making you see stars.

Every muscle of your body tenses as Jungkook abuses both your clit and pussy. But you decide to torture him a bit as well, it’d be only fun for him to torture you. You clench your walls around him, making him groan louder and smirk

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he moans lustfully as he gives you a harsher thrust.

You’re unable to reply since Jungkook has decided to increase his pace. His hips slam into yours ruthlessly which causes the whole bed to shake under your bodies. Your moans are louder and louder as his cock hits all your sweet spots. The pleasure is slowly but surely growing strongly inside you, and you try as hard as possible to hold your orgasm.

“Fuck, I’m going to come,” Jungkook whimpers.

The second the words leave his mouth, he fills you with his cum and he holds your hips tightly while he gives you small harsh thrusts. Your name rolls out of his tongue, and you decide to let go of your orgasm. There’s no point in holding back. Your walls squeeze him hard when your orgasm hits you once more, your arousal leaking all over his cock.

Jungkook pulls out of you before he lays down next to you on the bed. You come closer to him, his arm wrapping around you to hold you tight against him. None of you speaks while you both catch your breaths.

“I guess now you can call my brother,” his lips press a gentle kiss on top of your head.

A little chuckle leaves your lips at his words. “Let me first catch my breath,” you tell him. “I’m sure he’ll understand right away what we did.”

“Well, I don’t mind him knowing it,” Jungkook replies while doing circles in your back with his fingers.

“But I’m convinced he doesn’t want to,” you look up at him. “Personally, I wouldn’t want to know that my brother fucked my best friend.”

Jungkook giggles before pressing a gentle kiss on your lips.

Joongki will probably know one day what happened here, but you don’t want him to know it just yet. You’re not sure how he’ll react, and honestly, you’re a bit scared of his reaction. Will he hate you for sleeping with his brother? Probably not, but it still would be weird to say to your best friend that his brother slept with you.

After an hour in bed talking about random things, you and Jungkook decide to leave the apartment and go admire the waves again. After all, you’re here for that.

Usually, you’d directly go to the top of the sturdy rock since the waves are more impressive from there. But today, you decide to go to the beach. They are less massive, but still, you can admire them from another point of view.

You’re sitting at the edge of the sidewalk, right where the sand begins. The sea isn’t that far from you so you really have a beautiful view from where you are. The sea seems more furious than yesterday so Jungkook knows you won’t stay long here before going to the top of the massive rock.

“Today, the sea is creating bigger waves,” you tell Jungkook. “It’s quite impressive.”

He turns his head to look at you. In all honesty, when you moved in with him five years ago, he barely noticed you. He had just come back from New Zealand where he lived for two years. His relationship with Yoojung was starting and his mind was definitely somewhere else. You were simply the best friend of his brother. Nothing more.

However, today, he regrets he didn’t really look at you back then. It would have probably spared him a heartbreak. But, at the end of the day, isn’t it prettier that things between you start here in Nazaré, a place you both wanted to visit?

Of course, you still have to figure out things between you. Obviously, you like each other so you’ll have to see what happens after this trip. Jungkook won't force you to do anything. If you don’t want to give a shot to whatever is going on between you, he’ll respect your choice.

You turn your face to look at Jungkook, offering him a smile when you notice that he’s already looking at you.

“What do you think will happen after this trip?” Jungkook asks you.

You shrug. “I’m not sure,” you say at first. “But if you’d like, we could continue what started here.”

Now, he’s the one smiling, and he’s smiling like an idiot, he’s aware of that.

“I’d love to,” he says with the brightest smile on his face.

Your face gets closer to him and Jungkook breaks the space between your faces to kiss you gently. This is undoubtedly the biggest surprise this trip offered him. After the kiss, you simply lay your head on his shoulder while you keep admiring the beauty of the sea. Nazaré, the town where you fell in love with each other.

#bts #bts imagine #bts fanfic #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #bts angst #jungkook angst #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #effet mer #spideyjimin

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awrkive · 8 months ago

Text

THE LOVE PROGNOSIS, fin. — JJK (m.)

for as long as you can remember, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic.

the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.

PAIRING jungkook x female reader // mingyu x female reader

GENRE r18+ (angst, fluff, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 43.2k idcccccc atp😭 take ur time!

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC medical!au, roommates!au, surgeon!jk, surgeon!reader (they are both 4th year residents and are co-workers), corporate lawyer!mingyu, oc and jk are bffs since med school but their love language is fighting each other <3, jk and mingyu are bffs during undergrad, hopeless romantic!oc. dont read further warnings if u dont wanna be spoiled: ANGST. im aware i kinda overkilled it here but uh.. hear me out! explicit sexual content [ male mast*rbation, oral s*x (f&m receiving), making out, dry h*mping, penetr*tive s*x (protected and unprotected, missionary, cowgirl, doggy, spooning), a bit of c*mplay, jk <3 boobs, ily kink (redacted) cries during sex lol ]. FLUFFy fluff fluffff 😖 some of the scenes give very much like 2000s romcom vibes but idc sue me also theres a #merder reference ifykyk

NOTES we have finally reached the end! sorry it took me a month to get this out sjdfhd but its here and its long as fuck n im so proud of this and happy that i finished a series!! for once!!! will always love my silly tlp couple and the characters 🥹 let me know ur thoughts on my inbox oki and circulate by liking and reblogging if u enjoyed reading hihi ty ok bye enjoy reading!🫵🏼🫵🏼 [ important: pls make sure to read the note below ]

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] // [ MAIN MASTERLIST ]

A day passed since the fiasco at the villa happened and Jungkook and you have acted like total strangers since then. The rest of your friends easily took notice of it; the silence between you two on the ride to the airport, the not-so discreet way you avoided each other at the waiting area, even going as far as exchanging seats inside the plane when on any other day, you two didn’t mind being close together physically.

Jungkook knows absolutely that the avoidance is doing you both a disservice. You’re both grown adults and going to extreme lengths to ignore each other – like not even looking at the other when you bump in the hospital hallways – is a one-way ticket to your relationship’s foundations crumbling.

That thought terrified Jungkook so much that he decided to come clean tonight. Talk to you properly when his mind is cleared and there was no Mingyu to aggravate his thoughts and project actions he’s not necessarily proud of – because the fight was juvenile, he knows that. Him committing and giving in to violence is not something he wants you to see, no matter the context. You were right when you said that was not him, and Jungkook can’t have you thinking otherwise.

When he steps in front of your apartment door, he thinks if you’re already there. He isn’t entirely sure. You two haven’t seen each other at the hospital and you haven’t been texting him either. You might still be doing your rounds, he thought, but when he opens the door to your unit and trudges his feet to the living room, he catches a sight of you going out from your bedroom.

The two of you freeze upon seeing each other, but Jungkook’s surprise soon turns into confusion when he notices the carry-on luggage in your hand.

“Oh, you’re here,” You utter, filling the silence in the air. “I was just going.”

“Where?” Jungkook instantly asks, taking you both by surprise.

But you quickly recover. You give him a small smile – but what Jungkook clearly sees is a wince.

“I’m going over to my sister’s,” You must’ve seen the way Jungkook’s boring holes at your pink luggage, and so you take a glance at it momentarily, tugging on the handle to scoot it over closer to your side. You clear your throat. “I’m staying there for a while.”

Jungkook feels a certain weight drop on his shoulders, his lips parting at your declaration.

“__, i-if this is about what I said, you don’t have to leave—”

You cut him off quickly. “No. It’s not that. I just… I just need some time away.”

Even though he doesn’t like the implication, he gets you.

Blinking, he thinks what to say next. Jungkook doesn’t want to say the wrong words – he’s well aware of the fact that he's put his foot in his mouth back at the resort, and he’s not fucking up the second time around.

While he intended to talk to you tonight to address the elephant between you two, he also understands completely why you need time for yourself. It was too much. He told you a lot of things and he can’t expect you to process all of them in a single day.

So, he nods, still stricken, heart heavy when he looks at you again. “Okay.”

“Okay.” You repeat, voice a little louder than him. A pregnant pause, and you’re pulling up the handle of your luggage again, the wheels gliding on the floorboards as you begin to head towards the door to your apartment.

Jungkook doesn’t mean to sound so alarmed when he suddenly blurts out, “Now?”

He doesn’t even know why. It was the obvious. You’ve packed your things – you’re heading out. But he couldn’t stop himself. It’s like there’s a sense of fear clouding his mind the more this moment of you leaving stretches out further.

You stop on your tracks, blinking at him. “Y-yeah?”

“Oh.” Jungkook feels his hand itching to do something. Something stupid like grab your wrist gently to make you stay.

But he knows that’s futile. He doesn’t have the right to make you stay if you don’t want to in the first place.

“Seokjin’s actually coming in a few minutes,” you tell him, glancing at your phone. “My sister’s still at work, so she made him pick me up.”

Jungkook can only give you a nod.

It makes sense for your brother-in-law to come pick you up. It also makes sense for you to stay over their place considering that their apartment isn’t that far from the hospital and you won’t have a hard time commuting to work if you planned to stay there for a little while.

He wonders, though, why you aren’t staying at Doyeon’s instead… he doesn’t know if you’ve talked already, but from what it seems, you aren’t talking to the rest of your friends, either; judging by the way he hasn’t seen you together with any of them at the hospital. Taehyung had suggested that maybe you just need time, to which Doyeon and Nayeon agreed to. Jungkook can’t help but feel bad, though. You’re seemingly coming out isolated at the end of his own doing. If you’re avoiding your friends just because of him, that would be extremely unfair to you. Taehyung, Doyeon and Nayeon are just as much as your friends as they are his, and during these times, you should feel comfortable taking solace in their friendship like how he’s leaning on them currently.

Guilt washes over him at the thought. He can’t bear thinking about you hurting in the process of all of this. He just wants so badly to make it up to you, for you both to be okay again. You didn’t even have to acknowledge what he said – about him being in love with you. You could totally ignore it and act like it never happened, go on about your days like nothing changed as long as you’re by his side.

It hurts. It hurts that even when you’re just physically within his reach right now, he can’t seem to get a hold of you. And he has no one to blame but himself.

A phone rings and Jungkook watches as you fish out your device from your pockets.

“Must be Jin.” you say, picking up the call. You exchange a few words with your brother-in-law for a few seconds before hanging up and looking at him again. “He’s outside already.”

Jungkook nods, biting back the words that consist of something stupid like “don’t leave”.

“Your car…?” He hesitates, remembering how you’d drive to work.

“It broke again yesterday. I’m actually… uh… thinking of just selling it. Get it over with.”

Your car. You mentioned your parents have turned it over to you during your junior year in college. It always broke in the most inconvenient times – like the one time you had a bad date, and you panicked-texted him about the car towing company not picking up. It was a Sunday and Jungkook was supposed to go over some paper works, but he scrambled out of his room to get you – and he didn’t regret it one bit because you were actually crying the moment he arrived. You had been overstimulated, what with another failed date and your broken car – it was all too much. And you just needed Jungkook to be there. You told him so.

Jungkook cherishes those moments a lot. Not because you cried in them – he always felt like it was a punch to the gut whenever he sees you even an ounce of upset – but because it tells him that you trust him with that vulnerable side of you. It means he’s important enough to you to let him in your life. It’s one of those moments where Jungkook truly steps back to reevaluate your relationship – because sure, it could be merely friendship to anybody, but Jungkook doesn’t really think so. Your bond runs deeper than friendship, and he doesn’t even mean romantic. It’s the… camaraderie. The partnership.

He could’ve confessed a long time ago – that’s what people kept saying, but what they don’t know is that he has so much to lose. You are more than just the woman he would love to kiss and make love to or call his girlfriend – you’re the love of his life, you’re everything to him. And if he can’t have you in any way, he’d truly break.

And now that everything’s said and done – with him finally baring his truth to you – it’s come to this.

You, leaving.

The silence that follows pricks Jungkook’s skin like needles, and the creak of your steps on the floorboards ring in his ears – a daunting harsh whisper of your farewell – although it’s just temporary.

But something worries him.

What if it’s not temporary? What if during your stay at your sister’s place, you decide to completely get rid of his company for the good and better?

It’s all those frantic thoughts that urges him to call your name, but he doesn’t expect your voice overlapping with his as you say his name at the same time.

Jungkook’s lips curl up slightly. “What is it?”

Predictably, you wave your hand at him. “No, you first.”

“It’s okay.”

Your hand hovers over the handle of your suitcase as you pass by him, stopping on the threshold of your apartment. “I just…” you trail off. You look at Jungkook for a moment. “I just wanted to say bye. And uh… that… I drank all your banana milk in the fridge. But I’ll wire you the money later. Or buy you another batch and I’ll give it to you at the hospital or—”

Jungkook cuts you off by calling out your name, broken by a laugh of amusement. His first smile today, maybe. You look at him wide-eyed. It’s fascinating the way you have him completely wrapped around your finger and you’re not even doing anything.

“It’s fine. You don’t need to wire me anything.”

“Oh... well, I’m still sorry.” He nods, giving you a small smile. “What was it you wanted to tell me, then?”

Right now, he forgets what it was even all about. “Just, uh, please tell your sister and Seokjin hyung I said hi.”

Jungkook doesn’t want to delude himself into thinking that your face flashed a look of disappointment for the briefest moment after he said the words. At the back of his mind, he thinks you were expecting more – but he knows he’s reaching, grasping for straws, and he’s just desperate for anything from you he can’t really rationalize his line of thinking.

So with a final wave of your hand – a bit timid – you turn around and open the door to your unit, and Jungkook watches as your form disappears completely, leaving him stoned in his position in the middle of the living room for a long time; head empty, body numb, until he gathers time to collect himself and finally move over to the bathroom, where he takes a cold shower in hopes for an improved mood.

It didn’t really do anything, and he found himself having a hard time sleeping – waking up randomly during the wee hours of the morning.

When he stirs awake from his blaring alarm at 5:30, he’s nothing but adrift.

It feels weird when he goes to the kitchen and he doesn’t see you, as he expects you to be there in whatever worn up shirt from high school you still have, making toast or some quick breakfast – with your playlist playing from your phone – but you weren’t.

And Jungkook remembers that would be the case for another few days to come. Something he has to be okay with.

For the meantime.

He hopes.

Jungkook doesn’t get drunk often, but now, his friends are assuming he is. For the record, though, he is not drunk and they are just exaggerating. Sure, he’s staggering and he’s mixing up his syllables and grammar – but he swears he just feels a little woozy.

“Jungkook,” Doyeon calls him, laughing a bit. “Come on, Taehyung’s driving you home.”

“Don’t want to,” He says as he takes another swig of his fifth canned beer he’s been consuming since they all arrived at the barbecue place. “I can handle my alcohol.”

Which — fair. That’s not new news. But still—

“No shit, you have a shift tomorrow at eleven in the morning. Don’t be stubborn. It’s time to go home.”

“It’s fine, I’ll Uber back.”

Jungkook watches as Doyeon rolls her eyes.

“Are you really moping right now?”

He sends her a glare – one that she predictably does not take seriously. “‘M not moping. You’re moping.”

“And I’m Kate Bush. Taehyung, can you just drag Jungkook out of here? I think he’s gonna cry any minute now and the auntie is closing. We gotta go.” Nayeon butts in, and even though her words may seem harsh around the edges, she looks at Jungkook with a concerned gaze. The playful atmosphere from earlier now dissipating.

Jungkook appreciates the warmth that he gets from Nayeon’s gentle approach to everything – but right now, all it does is make him feel pitiful. Doyeon’s right. He is moping. Moping for something that should’ve been within his control in the first place.

“Man, you know you bench way more than me. I can’t carry you out all by myself if you’re all drunk and shit.” Taehyung nudges him on the shoulder, enough to make Jungkook move from his seat. He only grumbles.

Doyeon sighs. “What do you want, Jungkook? Call __? Tell her you’re getting wasted and come pick you up?”

Jungkook visibly flinches at the mention of you.

Ever since they arrived at the restaurant, Jungkook has noticed that his friends have been deliberately omitting your name in the conversation – until now, anyway. He thinks they all planned this spontaneous hang to “cheer him up” or whatever the fuck Taehyung said on their way here – which seemed like a slip-up, because Doyeon had hit the back of his head lightly right after saying it.

They’re walking on eggshells around him like he’s some kind of house of cards – one nudge and a blow and he comes crumbling down.

Jungkook hates getting doted on like this. It’s not like you two broke up. They just knew that you went to stay at your sister’s place for a while and you never said when you’re coming back. He hasn’t had any encounters with you at the hospital nowadays – you’re getting good at hiding from him and the rest of the gang, and every single day bleeds into countless sleepless nights. You’ve been gone for five days; no calls, or at least a text. And it seems like you deactivated your IG. You aren’t tweeting or reblogging shit on Twitter as well. You’ve gone completely silent – and with every waking moment that Jungkook spends a day without your presence, it feels like you’re slowly slipping through his fingers.

“No.” he glares at the three of them. Standing up, he feels his vision dancing at the sudden action.

Well. Maybe he is sort of drunk. A little.

“Hey, man, let’s go.” Taehyung ushers once again. This time, Jungkook acquiesces but with a groan. Nonetheless, he lets Taehyung wrap his arm around him to prevent him from tripping on his own feet.

When Jungkook manages to stand firm on the ground, he shuts his eyes tight to get a hold of himself and once again look at Doyeon and Nayeon who are still sitting by the table. With a confused expression, he asks, “Thought we’re all going?”

“Minhyuk will pick me up.” Nayeon says. Jungkook nods, directing his gaze to Doyeon.

“Somebody’s picking me up, too,” When Jungkook squints his eyes at her, she rolls her eyes. “Don’t start. Tae, drive safely, okay? You didn’t drink, right?”

Taehyung shakes his head and gives both women a reassuring nod before they head out of the building when goodbyes were bid, with Taehyung still pressing a hand on Jungkook’s back because he’s still a bit unstable on his feet. It’s not bad, though, Jungkook doesn’t think so. He just feels dizzy and shit, but it’s not anything water can’t solve.

Fuck, now he wants to get in bed as soon as possible. After a cold shower.

“Sorry, man.” he says as he plops down on the passenger’s seat, buckling the seatbelt around himself.

Taehyung comfortably settles on the driver’s seat, adjusting the rearview mirror a bit before starting the engine. But not after he responded to Jungkook with a snort, “It’s fine.”

It’s a quiet car ride and Jungkook can already feel his eyelids threatening to fall, the haze of sleep already clouding his mind. He can’t recall how far it takes from the restaurant to his complex, but soon enough, Taehyung’s voice wakes him up from his stupor.

“You okay there?”

Jungkook hums, leaning back to relax his nerves. A minute flies and he sighs loudly, making Taehyung look at him momentarily.

“Don’t sleep on me. Again, I am not willing to carry you all the way to your apartment, fucker.”

That makes Jungkook laugh, a snicker escaping past his lips. It makes Taehyung do the same, scoffing at his friend as he did so. The car ride continues into a stretched-out comfortable silence before Taehyung breaks it with a question of, “You two still haven’t talked?”

Jungkook stiffens at the mention, and he knows his friend notices the way he did, but he quickly tries to shake it off. “Yeah. She’s still at her sister’s.” Taehyung nods. When Jungkook looks at him, he decides to ask, “What ‘bout you? She reached out yet?”

“No.”

Jungkook inhales a sharp breath.

This is bad. You’re ignoring all your friends because of him.

“Sorry.” Jungkook says after a pregnant pause.

“What for?”

“Dunno. Feels like it’s all my fault,” a sigh escapes past his lips again. “You guys don’t deserve to get caught up in this.”

“Jungkook,” There’s a lilt to Taehyung’s voice that reminds Jungkook again that the man beside him is older than he is and sometimes, Taehyung can be way more mature, almost like an older brother. He forgets their age difference most of the time. “Don’t say that. __ just needs her time. She’ll come around.”

The smile Jungkook gives his way is bitter but it’s a smile, nonetheless.

“I don’t know, Tae,” He leans his head back on the seat, staring at nothing in particular. “It’s different this time.”

“You’ve fought before,” Taehyung points out. “How is this different?”

Jungkook does know what he’s trying to point out. He may be referring to the time in third year of med school when you didn’t talk to him for a month – but still. This, right now – whatever is happening – is far from what happened back then.

“Just different,” He shrugs, a poor attempt at nonchalance so Taehyung doesn’t think he’s being pathetic. “I feel like this is it.” Taehyung looks at him curiously when the red light turns on. It makes Jungkook squirm, but he voices out what he feels, anyway. “I’m losing her.”

That felt weird the moment it slips his tongue. For the past few days, it’s been in his head – making up the mess of his thoughts. When he said that, for once, it felt like finality. Like its verbalization actually made it real.

He does feel like he’s losing you. And it feels like the absolute truth.

“You can’t say that when you haven’t even talked to her, Jungkook,” Taehyung says and he says it so firmly. When Jungkook studies the older guy’s face, it’s etched with sincerity, especially when he adds, “Do you really think she’ll let go of an almost decade-long relationship just because of what happened? Frankly speaking, even if she does not feel the same way about you at all, I know her enough to know that she’ll have at least the decency to let you down properly. I think she’s just trying to think all of this through. She’ll talk when her head’s clear.”

Jungkook finds himself processing his words. You are exactly like that. You’re the type of person to need your personal space when you’re confronted by huge predicaments. When he thinks about it – you have so much on your plate. Mingyu, him, your relationship with each of them; Jungkook realizes things must be so hard for you right now, both emotionally and physically. And you’re dealing with all this while still showing up for your rotations.

“You’re right.” Jungkook whispers.

“Just… time, okay? You both need time.” Taehyung says and for once, Jungkook smiles a genuine one.

The light turns green, and Taehyung continues to drive.

Taehyung decided to turn up his jazz playlist and it eased Jungkook’s mind a bit. But it did lull him to sleep all the way to his apartment complex. Thankfully though, it only took Taehyung a few seconds of nudging him before he stirred awake, disoriented when he opened his eyes only to hear his friend say they were already there, ushering him out of his car.

He said his thanks to Taehyung, and his friend made sure to tell him to take it easy before he took off. When he was gone, Jungkook went straight to the elevator to press his floor, mind and body working on autopilot as he sauntered over the hallway to stop in front of his unit.

When the door opens, he feels a sense of calmness at the sight of his own place with everything at his disposal including the bathroom that he quickly head towards, not hesitating to strip himself naked on the way to the shower, letting his clothes form a heap on the threshold; bare and naked without a care in the world.

Stepping into the shower box, he turns the showerhead on, hissing at the cold water spraying onto his skin. He needed the cold to get rid of his sluggishness – and it works just as instantly as he’d hoped.

Both of his hands shoot up to brush his hair off his forehead, and he stays in that position for awhile; with the water running on his body and his head leaned back a bit, eyes closed as he relaxes.

He mindlessly reaches for his shampoo bottle, but when he opens the cap, he smells a completely different product. What welcomes him when he opens his eyes back again is the familiar sight of Bath and Body works bottle. Your water lily springs body wash.

Despite his current headspace, it brings a smile to Jungkook’s lips.

Right.

He’s noticed in the past few days that you left it in your shared bathroom. Considering all the things that you still have around the apartment, it didn’t really look like you packed a lot of things when you left – which should ease Jungkook’s mind. Still, though; the small size of your luggage and the quantity of what you brought with you do not matter when you still aren’t home.

And with that, Jungkook feels himself slipping back into… mulling again. And he can’t help but heave out a sigh.

He just… wants to rest for tonight. Just wants his head emptied out. Relax. He feels like he’s been on edge for the longest of time and he just needs some sort of – he’s not sure – comfort? Maybe something along the lines?

And as if his hand has a mind on its own, he grips the bottle of your body wash and squirts an ample amount on his palm, the scent of water lily springs surrounding the confined space of the shower immediately.

He lathers it all over his chest, inhaling the gentle waft and how it weirdly calms him from the inside. The room smells just like you. He smells just like you. And it isn’t the first time he’s doing this – he’s always liked the way you smelled, and he may have used your body wash by accident countless of times. Jungkook sometimes does it just to tease you – because you always point it out when you notice that he smells the same, and then you get all irritated and it makes Jungkook keen because you’re just so goddamn cute when you glare at him and when you get mean. Teasing you also means that you’d get mad enough to sulk at him, and that gives him the opportunity to make it up to you; and making it up to you means he gets all of your attention.

It’s pathetic but Jungkook’s not ashamed to admit that – just to himself, though. He likes when you give him attention, can you blame him?

His mind goes back to the memory of you cuddling with him on the ground at that random playground near your complex, how you snuggled up to his arm, giggling and threatening him to stop using your body wash. He remembers all the times you would cook together on nights when you’re both free – lounging on the couch mindlessly, either watching a show and debating over useless, stupid stuff – or when you would force him to rub your foot or massage your neck. Jungkook doesn’t relent until after you complain for a good five minutes. He’s gotten better at pretending overtime that he doesn’t look forward to touching any part of you.

At that thought, he recalls the way your back felt on his hands when he rubbed sunscreen all over it when you were at the resort. How the plane of your gorgeous skin felt so smooth to the touch, how you make him feel even with just the slightest baring of your skin.

Jungkook shuts his close when his mind goes into overdrive.

You. You. You and your bikini. You and your short shorts that might as well just be panties in disguise. You and those cute little, tight camisoles you always wear around the apartment. How he could just sometimes see the outline of your nipples where the thin material of your shirt clings to. How your bare legs look so good when you cross them while reading the paper on a Sunday morning by the kitchen island. How your breasts look like they could fit in Jungkook’s big palms with a bit of overspill – enough to drive him insane.

These are the thoughts in Jungkook’s head as he continues to lather the liquidy texture of your body wash all over his body – and when his hand finally nudges the dick in between his legs, he groans.

He’s not a stranger to getting off to the thought of you – you’re a gorgeous woman and it doesn’t really help the fact that he’s been in love with you for god knows how long – but it doesn’t mean that he does it guilt-free. He almost always feels like shit afterwards.

But he can’t help it. Not when you’re all over his head again. Not when he’s thinking about how good it would probably fucking feel if he could just have a taste of your plump lips. How it would feel if he could just suck on your neck, paint you with his love there, down to your cleavage then play with both of your tits with his hands – be greedy with it – get your nipples rock hard and pretty tight for him, suck and latch and nip and lick them, make sure it’s all wet before he goes down more south.

God. He thinks about it all the time. How’d it feel to go down on you. You’re so fucking pretty he could just imagine how gorgeous you would look down there, too. Were you the type to like getting eaten out? Jungkook hopes so. Because he would do everything to satisfy you. Fuck, he’d be so good to you. He’d tease your clit with his thumb first and you’d tell him that you’re aching for him bad – and he’d cave in and get his first taste with the flat of his tongue and fuck. You probably taste so good he’d crave it for days to come.

The next thing Jungkook knows, he’s holding the base of his cock firmly, feeling it getting harder every second. It grows in his hand as he continues to think about eating your pussy, imagining the sounds you’d let out, how you’d look extra beautiful getting fucked by his tongue. Shit. He’d do it so well if you just asked.

Jungkook traps his bottom lip with his teeth as he starts teasing his own cock, already in its full mass, hard and standing tall against his abdomen. He can see the shiny texture of his tip, precum leaking out, begging to be touched. He doesn’t wait any second to thumb the liquid off his head, letting out a half-sigh, half-hiss at how sensitive it felt, especially when he runs it over the veiny base.

Inhaling a sharp breath, Jungkook steps back a bit to cup his balls, squeezing it just enough to make him close his eyes. He repeats the motion of sliding his hand up and down his erect cock, feeling himself getting wetter at every second that passes.

He gets a picture of you on your knees, and as he pumps himself at a slow pace, he imagines it’s you instead kneading him. You have slender fingers and pretty nails, it would feel so much better if they were wrapped around his cock right now. Your nails would scrape against his length, and you’ve held hands enough times for Jungkook to know that his hand is significantly bigger than yours, so you probably won’t fit all of him in your hand – but that’s alright. You’d tease him on the tip instead, spread his precum all over, get him needing and wanting more.

Jungkook’s hips start to buck as he speeds up his pace, this time jacking himself harder as his mind jumps to more thoughts of you — but this time around, you’re not on your knees: you’re pressed on the glass wall of the shower box, your ass bent for all of him to caress and squeeze, and you’re craning your head to look at him with hooded eyes, lips parted into a gorgeous “o” as you beckon him to come closer and put his hard dick in your warm, tight, and aching pussy.

“Fuck.” Jungkook curses as he lets his forehead fall to the wall, resting there for a few good seconds, other hand scrambling to turn off the shower and quickly shutting his eyes close as he pictures himself thrusting into you instead of his stupid fucking hand.

“Shit, shit, shit—” He hisses, hand going faster around his length, pumping himself desperately to the thought of his dick sliding in and out of you.

Your moans would fill the tight room, and you’d sound so pretty. You’d be so pliant against the strong arm that he would wrap you with — and Jungkook would make sure to flick your nipples and fondle your breasts as he pounds into you from behind.

“Fuuuuck…”

He grunts and he moans, hand impossibly going faster — dick getting harder. He just wants a release. He wants to cum so bad — to kiss you and love you and have you say it back with the same earnestness as him.

Jungkook wants so badly to have you in his arms right after he eats you out, to cuddle with you and pretend like you have all the time in the world after he’s made sure to make love to every single inch of your body. To caress your hair and press a kiss on your head anytime he likes – because he’s allowed to. Because you love him. He just wants to be able to touch you in any way possible. Run his fingers over your back, kiss your cheeks, and your scrunched nose. Just wants to bury his face in your chest after a long day at work. Hold you tight against him. Have you close to him, whenever and wherever.

But he doesn’t have all that. He can’t have all that. Not when you don’t even feel the same. Not when you reacted that way when he told you he loves you more than just his best friend.

“I’m sorry, but I just can’t wrap my head around it. You’re not telling me the whole truth and frankly, I don’t believe you.”

Your words ring in his ears as he continues to jack himself.

The memory is still so vivid in his head — the surprised look on your face — certainly not the pleasant one. You were so… surprised. And angry. Like you didn’t believe any of what he said. Like you were trying hard to convince yourself that whatever you were hearing from him wasn’t true.

Because she doesn’t feel the same way. Jungkook thinks.

He remembers the night you left. How you could barely look him in the eyes.

“Shit—” Jungkook hisses as he squeezes his balls, hand pumping faster around his swollen cock. He closes his eyes as he tries to regulate his breathing, his stomach tightening at his impending release – and it’s the last thing he does in favor of his own sanity before his mind slips back again to life without you in it.

He would never have you. He can never be anything to you anymore.

He will never be, especially as he looks down at his hand on his cock.

How pathetic.

What would you think if you were to see him right now, getting himself off by imagining it’s you instead? You’d be so disgusted. You’d look at him like he’s a different person and feel betrayed because – how could the person you trust think about you like this?

There’s that sense of self-hatred again that Jungkook feels whenever he jacks off to you. That fear of you finding out and not liking it.

Jungkook tugs at his cock angrily as he thinks about all that, and he doesn’t notice that the stinging in the sides of his eyes would soon turn into tears running down his cheeks as he tries to reach his climax.

You would hate him so much. You don’t even like him anymore. Don’t even want to live with him anymore.

But he just wants to cum so bad. Just wants to feel some sort of clarity. Delude himself into basking in that quick dopamine.

He traps a sob in his throat as he makes quick work of his cock, and with one last squeeze around his tight balls, he shoots his hot cum to the wall, hips bucking at his orgasm.

Letting out a series of hushed curses, Jungkook continues to pump his cock for more until he feels sensitive, and his dick turns soft and languid against his legs.

He grabs the shower head to spray the cum off the wall, feeling the water already turning lukewarm. When he finishes cleaning his mess up, he grabs your body wash and exits the shower, throwing the bottle in the trash can with haste as if it burned him. As he turns back around, he catches sight of himself over the lavatory’s mirror.

There are dark circles under his eyes — not too visible — but they’re there. His eyes are red from crying, and suddenly his body itches. He should shower again and actually clean up this time.

But Jungkook realizes as he stares at himself again… he has never looked so tired. Not even in med school. Or during internship.

This whole thing is taking a toll on him – he knows that well by now. Even his friends do as well. He’s fucking up his sleeping schedule and he’s not even eating properly. He hits the gym not because he wants to but because it helps shut down his head.

Jungkook sighs.

He’s long accepted that the love he holds for you is so big it sometimes borders on piteous. He’s spent so many years going into this kind of phase where he just mulls over the same thing; that he loves you, but you will never ever feel the same way back.

And the thing is, he's always been okay with it. Jungkook loves loving you. He’d be a fool not to when he genuinely thinks that you were made to be loved.

But at this point, he just feels… tired.

Exhausted. Empty.

He wants to sleep. He wants to rest. He wants to wake up the next day and not feel like shit anymore.

Maybe Doyeon was right back at the villa.

It is time to move on.

And maybe… just maybe… unlike all the other times he’s attempted to do the same thing, this time around will be successful.

Your 7am to 2pm shift had just concluded when you arrived at your sister’s place, only to see them both all dolled up, ready to go out.

They told you that you could come with them if you liked, but of course you refused. You’re not the type to interrupt a date and they were certainly too in love for your liking. Don’t get you wrong, you love that for both – but you’re getting pretty sick of romance these days and you’re trying to avoid it as much as possible. Seokjin made sure to throw another one of his “Don’t mope around, okay? We have Macallan in the cupboards. You know the one.” jokes, though – having already known why you’re here in the first place – and your sister pinched his ear painfully enough for you to ignore and roll your eyes at him lightheartedly.

Which leads you to now, binge-eating a left-over tub of vanilla ice cream on a Sunday afternoon from last night’s impulsive purchase. You know it’s going to make you feel like shit later, but you can’t really bring yourself to care – not when the ice cream tastes too good paired with a Sex and The City episode.

You like to delude yourself you’re the early season Miranda; independent, boss bitch, career-driven, straightforward but kind. But you had a mortifying realization that maybe you’re actually Carrie. You’re both so obsessed with love and glorify the idea of “The One” that you overlook red flags in a guy just to stay in a relationship. And for what? To be completely broken and fucked over in the end of it all.

But you don’t want to be Carrie – sure, she has a special place in your heart as a fictional character but real-life Carries, with all of their delusions and ideals, are not meant for the real world.

“You’re watching that show again?”

You almost fall over the couch when you hear a familiar voice behind you, and when you crane your neck to look who it was, your eyes widen.

“Mom!” you exclaim, rightfully surprised. Your mother – in the flesh – smiles as she sees you grin. “Oh my god, I didn’t know you’d be here— wait, how’d you get inside?”

She waves you off. “You know your sister and Jin gave me a duplicate key to their place. Anyway, I’m just here to drop off some side dishes. Also, I know what you’ve been up to. And stop eating that ice cream.”

You pout, taking the tub away from you. When you see her walk towards the kitchen with her bags – presumably the side dishes she was talking about – you follow behind her steps, helping her load the containers in the fridge.

“What do you mean you know what I’ve been up to?”

“You and Jungkook fought, I heard.”

“Mom,” you say with a tone that tells her you don’t want to talk about it at all.

“You know I’m going over there shortly to give him these, right? Supposed to be for the both of you, but oh well, you’re lounging around here.” She says.

“I’m not lounging around here. They love that I’m here.” You counter, referring to your sister and Seokjin. It almost sounded like a whine, though, more than anything. But it was true! They like you being here! They’ve always treated you like their child… but you know you’re kind of pushing it with your sixth-day-stay.

Your mother looks at you disapprovingly, loading the last container before shutting the fringe doors shut.

“Whatever you’re fighting about, you know avoiding it is not going to make it better.”

You sigh. “I’m not even sure if we’re fighting, anyway.”

“What’s that mean?” Your mom asks, sounding confused. You can imagine.

“I don’t know… just – I don’t think we’re angry at each other.”

“Not being angry at each other is worse than being angry at each other. That sounds like withdrawal.”

You wince at her words. “Maybe.”

Your mom sighs. She takes out a bit from the container of stir-fried zucchini and slides you both a plate. “Have you been eating real food? You look like you’re not eating properly.”

Teenager and college you would’ve rolled your eyes because she always says that you’re losing weight and blah blah blah, but it’s not even true. However, you do know she’s just concerned, though, and so you nod your head, picking up a zucchini and eating it.

“Yes. Jin’s a good cook.”

She nods, eating as well. “So is Jungkook. He hasn’t talked to you at all?”

You thought you’ve dodged the topic of Jungkook completely but apparently your mom’s still on that. You nibble on your bottom lip as you think what to say.

“He… uhm… he didn’t text or call.” Well. There was one time. Two days ago. And it was just a simple text about informing you of the sudden change in the OR schedule. You replied to it with a thanks and a smiley face, but he didn’t say anything after that — not that your thanks should guarantee anything. That was not exactly a conversation starter.

Still.

“Have you talked to him?”

Shoot.

You shake your head a bit.

The truth is that you can’t be sad about Jungkook not reaching out when you haven’t been doing the same thing either. You’re running away from him – you can admit that. The past week hasn’t been your proudest moment. You’ve thought it over countless times; why you just can’t go ahead and speak to him – because heck, for eight years you’ve always done a good job at it, communicating with each other when things went wrong. Like when he teases you too much and you actually get offended, and the same goes for him.

But what happened wasn’t just something that came out of a supposedly lighthearted banter. It wasn’t your usual banter at all.

“What happened, sweetie?” And this time your mom’s voice is bordering on concern.

You don’t look at her when you say, “Jungkook said he’s in love with me.”

You don’t get a reaction. At least – the reaction you were expecting. You thought she would gasp, or at least let out an, “Oh”, but there’s none of that. When you peer up at her, she just nods.

As if the news was no surprise.

“And I take it didn’t go well?” She looks at you gently.

“N-no,” you stammer. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you say, “It was – it was so messy that day, mom. You know we went to that resort for his birthday, right? He and my boyfriend fought, and just – so much happened. I don’t even remember half of it. Just that he told me he’s been in love with me for the past eight years.”

Your mom nods. “Your boyfriend… is that Mingyu?”

“Yes.” It feels weird to call him your boyfriend now. You used to be so giddy calling him that. But right now, it feels almost icky.

“Why did Jungkook and him fight?”

You told her what Jungkook told you – everything, and your mom is sweet almost all of the time but as she listens to everything that Mingyu supposedly did and say – especially about you – she can’t help but knit her brows in that quiet anger you know all too well now. But it soon dissipates to worry.

She steps closer to you. You look at her with a sad smile. With that, she encloses her arms around you, and you let your chin fall on her shoulder as you reciprocate her hug. You almost cry when she squeezes you. “How are you feeling then, sweetie?” She asks, voice so gentle and soft. Comforting. You think this has been what you needed all this time.

“Like shit.” you chuckle. “I’ve never been so tired. I haven’t even talked to Mingyu yet – I haven’t been talking to anybody, even my friends. I don't know why I’m like this.”

“You know I worry for you.”

“Hm?”

“You’re such a lovely, sweet girl. And these men keep breaking your heart. I wish I can ease your pain, honey. You have the biggest heart in the world.”

You nibble on your bottom lip as you feel that stinging in your eyes at her words. You remember Jungkook saying almost the exact same thing.

“Jungkook told me that sometime ago.” you say, holding back the cry you know is coming out any second now.

“He knows you well.” She says as she caresses your head.

“I just…” you let out a sigh again, trying to shake off the oncoming tears. “When he told me he loved me all this time, I said I didn’t believe him. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I still can’t.”

“Do you think he would lie about something like that?”

It’s firm and final when you say, “No.” Because you know in your heart that was true. Jungkook is anything but a liar. And especially about something like that… you just don’t think he would ever hurt you intentionally. That’d be cruel and Jungkook was never cruel. It’s just not in his nature.

“Hm. Then is it because you don’t feel the same way at all? That’s why you can’t believe it?” Your mom asks and it’s the most groundbreaking question you’ve ever heard after a while.

Do you just… not feel the same way?

That was definitely the biggest question you’ve been avoiding answering.

But as your mom pushes you slightly so she can look at you earnestly, gently, like she has no expectations whatsoever – just here to hold and comfort you – it beckons you into spilling your emotions.

“I… I really don’t know, mom.” You intake a sharp breath. “He’s been a constant presence in my life for eight years. We’ve never– we’ve never considered the possibility of being more than just friends. I– I don’t know why he would love me. Or fall for me. He’s never shown interest, the way I saw it – but these days I’ve been rethinking that and I’m beating myself over for being stupid because it’s like – how could I have not known? He’s always been so caring towards me. Always makes time for me. He’s never let me down and he’s just – he’s my person, mom. Always has been. And how could I have thought that he didn’t mean for that to come off as purely platonic?” you stop, feeling your lips wobble. “It’s just… I don’t know. I don’t know what to feel. All I know is that these days without him have been so painful, especially when we haven’t properly talked. I miss him everyday and it kills me that we aren’t like before right now. I want to be by his side all the time, and I think I may have taken that for granted for the past eight years we’ve known each other.”

You don’t realize you’ve let out so much, but your mom just lets you snuggle closer to her, knowing that you’re feeling a lot right now. And you do. You haven’t talked to anyone about what you really felt – not even your sister, even though you knew she did her best to do so – but as your mom soothes your back with the gentle rub of her hand, you let yourself be comforted.

“You know what I think, honey?”

You look up at her with teary eyes, nodding weakly.

She gives you a small smile. “Do you remember that time when I thought he was your boyfriend when you brought him for Christmas?”

Nodding, you chuckle. Second year of med school it was. Eunwoo was in Switzerland for a a big project – and Jungkook’s parents weren’t in town. You both didn’t have anybody to celebrate Christmas with and so you ended up asking Jungkook to come home with you.

It wasn’t just your mom who thought he was your boyfriend. Your sister and Seokjin also assumed the same thing.

Around that time, you haven’t introduced Eunwoo to them yet so basically, they didn’t know that you were taken already.

“I think this is just me being old… but you kind of… you get to know these things, __. You’ll see somebody's eyes, they way they gaze at somebody. When we were opening those gifts during Christmas eve, I saw the way that kid looked at my daughter with so much adoration that I even thought you were just being coy about him being your boyfriend.”

Your lips curl into a tight line.

You… certainly did not notice any of that. Did that really happen?

“I think Jungkook’s a good man, and your dad is fond of him – he asked me yesterday if you’re gonna bring him for Thanksgiving or Christmas, he misses his chess buddy, it seems. No pressure, though,” your mom chuckles. “But Jungkook’s smart, kind, polite, works hard, really charming—” you laugh again, despite yourself, because that’s definitely true. He charmed your parents so quickly with ease. It’s just really about his pleasant personality that attaches people to him. “But most especially, he makes you really happy. I liked that Jaehyun guy and Eunwoo because they made you happy when you were together. Up until they didn’t. I only like people who are good to you, sweetie. That was why I liked your ex-boyfriends for a while,” She begins caressing your head again and you feel like a little girl again, finding comfort in your mom’s bedroom after a bad day at middle school. Your mom smiles softly before she continues, “But those men hurt you. And they leave you. And you know who hasn’t in the past eight years? The only one who’s been consistent in making you happy?”

It’s Jungkook. He’s always been under your nose while you cried over other men, and he was there to support you through it all. He’s the one who makes you laugh at his stupid jokes. The one who sits with you in your feelings on days when you don’t feel your best. He’s the one who lets you cry on his shoulder when a surgery doesn’t go well, the guy who would drop everything for you with one text or call, the guy who gifts you stupid, stupid random things because they reminded him of you. He’s the guy who shares his playlists with you, comments silly stuff on your equally silly posts, and he’s the only one who has never, ever made you feel like you’re not enough. He’s the only one who has never left and hurt you.

It’s always been Jungkook.

Your mom doesn’t need to say the name, though, just one look at you and she knows you're thinking the same thing.

It’s during midday at the hospital when you see Jungkook again.

The elevator dinged and the doors finally opened on your floor, but you froze in your position when you saw who was inside the whole time.

It was Jungkook, sitting slightly on the handrails while crossing his arms. His posture straightened for a bit as he met your eyes, looking equally surprised as you. But then he recovered and relaxed in his position just as quickly.

You couldn’t read the look on his face.

Taking a hold of yourself before the door automatically closes, you stepped a foot inside the lift and pressed on the button of your floor immediately. The 7th floor button is lightened up, so you assumed Jungkook was gonna get off earlier than you since you were going down on the sixth floor.

The confined space had never felt more suffocating. You could feel there was something in the air – a thick tension that was getting too hard to bear every second you felt the elevator moving down.

There was a lump that formed in your throat, especially when you caught a glimpse of the reader going floors down fast, and the 7th one was nearing.

Your heart beat erratically against your chest. You didn’t even feel that nervous back in the OR twenty minutes ago.

But you figured it was the first time you felt close, after all.

It was funny, really – what you felt at that moment. Being physically close to Jungkook had never made you feel like that – like you’re on edge – you’ve always just approached it as something natural, like you were meant to be that way. And those times, you never really thought about the contact ending.

But in that moment, it felt like he was slipping away – even though you were not even holding him in the first place.

It was probably why you let out your next words, craning your neck to the side to try and look behind you where you knew Jungkook was at.

“I miss you.”

You barely said it. Felt like just a soft whisper as the words slipped past your lips, but there was a break around its edges – like it was the most vulnerable thing you’ve ever said.

It was.

And you didn’t exactly know why you did it.

Maybe you just wanted him to know. Maybe you just wanted him to understand that… that you were still there. And that you missed him. Every single day. Regardless of what happened.

There was a thick silence that hung in the air after that, and you should’ve taken back your words right after they came out. Embarrassment should’ve clouded you by then. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do so.

That was as honest as you could get.

You didn’t even expect a reply – assuming that maybe Jungkook hadn’t heard it.

But you heard the soft tap of his steps on the floor and felt his overwhelming presence coming near you. And just like that, you knew he was behind you. Close. A hair's breadth away.

Then, you hear him let out a soft sigh, and you could feel his breath brush against your ear as he leaned down. You never realized how much you craved his affection until you felt him slightly nudging his cheek against the crown of your head.

It made you keen. Made you shut your eyes close. Basking in the moment, but you didn’t ignore the pain that it caused.

Because somehow, despite what might seem like a sweet gesture – the whole thing felt like goodbye.

It was so intimate, though, that you almost forgot that you were currently on the 8th floor and he was dropping off on the next.

The elevator dinged like a wake-up call. And when you opened your eyes, Jungkook had already peeled his body away from you. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you fought the urge to cry as you saw him walking out.

Before the door closed, he took one look at you. His mouth opened, as if wanting to say something. You waited. But he closed his lips again, not bothering to look back for even one last time before the elevator doors closed in front of your face.

The interaction left a certain melancholy in your heart, and it made you run on auto-pilot when the elevator stopped on your floor.

You never expected for the encounter to happen – but it did, in its own way. And now you have to deal with the consequences of your impulsive actions.

Your mindless walking has led your feet to somewhere a bit secluded. It’s far across the hall, and you recognize it as some old, empty ward. You and your friends have one on the 5th floor but you don’t think you’ve never really been here before and so you weren’t sure.

But you’re desperate to let out a good cry. Maybe not exactly cry – but just be alone for awhile. The hospital and your schedule are busy enough as they are and it’s enough to keep your mind occupied since the morning – but that interaction with Jungkook at the elevator reminded you of the weight that you’ve been carrying lately and you just… want to dissipate a little. Even if it means sacrificing your three-minute lunchtime.

You don’t suspect anything as you twist the doorknob open – surprise to see it’s not locked like you thought it would be.

And the sight leaves your mouth hanging open.

“Oh my god.”

“What the fuck.”

“Shit!” You watch as Doyeon pushes off the man wearing a white lab gown on top of her – a very familiar figure that you can only recognize as none other than the attending surgeon Dr. Kim Namjoon.

A panicked, “I’m sorry!” leaves your mouth before you turn on your heel, ready to fly off the scene when you hear Doyeon’s voice calling you from behind.

“Wait, __!”

You hesitantly look back.

It’s obvious what they were doing before you entered the room. Doyeon’s hair is unusually out of the ponytail she always shows up to work with, and Dr. Kim… Jesus. He’s always been so intimidating to you – with his tall stature and his aura that reeks so much of authority, even though he doesn’t even try, it feels so fucking weird to suddenly see him with his hair all mussed up when it always looks kempt every single time you see him along the hallways of the hospital. Right now, he looks coy, like he’s shrinking himself as he avoids looking at you.

“Dr. __, I am so deeply sorry,” His apology sounds so remorseful that you feel bad for even having to barge in. You can see Dr. Kim fumbling with his coat as he looks at Doyeon like he’s looking for help. Doyeon looks at him, but she just… rolls her eyes.

“Joon, just–” She cuts herself off, shutting her eyes close. Seemingly agitated. Or embarrassed. You don’t know why you’re still here. “You should leave now, I’ll talk to __.” Doyeon lets her gaze fall back to you and your eyes widen at the declaration, not really knowing if she was serious or not.

You mean… what are you even going to talk about? Sure! You’re shocked as fuck to see them together in that position but you’re not about to ask her about her sex life!

… Okay. So maybe you are a little bit (only a little) curious about that.

Dr. Kim has always been a mystery to all of you. Taehyung and Jungkook admire him so much, the latter lowkey idolizes him at this point. Nayeon has always spoken highly about him and you’re literally a fan of all his work in his field, especially his books. It doesn’t help that he’s attractive as hell, too, and you all may have gossiped about him at one point in your lives – so sue you for being curious! You’re just human.

“You sure?” Dr. Kim says, barely spoken, but you don’t miss the gentle way he holds Doyeon’s shoulder as he asks that, the way his face contorts into a concerned expression when he looks down at her. One quick interaction and you instantly realize that oh… this is serious.

They’re not just having casual sex in this ward.

This is Doyeon’s boyfriend.

Your bestfriend nods at him and you step aside to give Dr. Kim some space to leave the room, still visibly stunned. You thought he was going to leave when he utters another apology again.

“__, I’m really sorry about this behavior. Doyeon and I—”

Doyeon groans. “Joon, oh my god. It’s fine.”

You watch as Dr. Kim’s (who Doyeon apparently calls “Joon”— what the hell) lips fall into a thin line. “Fine. I’ll go. We’ll talk about this later, alright?”

“I know.”

He gives you both one last glance before the door closes on you.

You swear you tried to look for cameras everywhere – like they do in The Office – to see if the whole thing was a prank. But no. Your life’s unfortunately not a sitcom.

“I told him to lock the door earlier,” Doyeon starts, sounding defeated as she falls back on one of the emergency beds. Sighing, she covers her face with her hands. “This is so embarrassing.”

At that, you can’t help but react immediately.

“You’re embarrassed about the fact that you’re fucking an insanely stupid hot, intelligent man?” Your brows knit.

Doyeon looks at you and you both stare at each other. She holds her own, like she usually does, but for the first time ever, she breaks and chuckles. The laughter turns hilarious, and you follow her into the bed.

“God,” she utters. She licks her bottom lip and looks at you shyly. “I didn’t mean for you to find out this way.”

“I mean… what did you mean to do instead?”

She hesitates. “I’m not sure.”

You frown. “So, you just… you just weren’t going to tell me? Us?” You didn’t bother to hide the tone of disappointment in your words. Doyeon looks a little ashamed when you verbalized that.

“It’s not that. I just didn’t know how,” She says. You knit your brows in confusion. “You know I’ve always been… private about my dating life or whatever. I don’t tell you guys I’m dating until I’m sure the guy and I are official. I… I don’t even date a lot in the first place.”

Well… that was true. You nod at her, giving her a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I get that.” Doyeon smiles a little. “How long?”

There’s a pregnant pause before she says, “Uh… since Feb?”

“Jesus.” She winces at your reaction. You stare at her with your jaw slack. “What the fuck, Doyeon? Nine months?”

“Well, technically, eight but—” you look at her dryly and Doyeon gives up on her attempt at being facetious. “Okay. I’m sorry. It just happened.” You raise your brow at her. She sighs. “Okay, so we may have hooked up last year in December. You remember the Christmas party at the Ritz?”

Your mouth just hangs wider, looking at her incredulously. Every drop of information she lets out just grows your surprise bigger, and you have nothing in substance to say except, “You… whore.”

Doyeon laughs so loud you worry it might have been heard from the outside, but you wince at the slap that follows on your shoulder as she giggles nonstop.

“Shut the fuck up, oh my god.”

“No– I just– Oh my god, was that the reason why you bailed on our own Christmas party over at Nayeon’s?” She nods at your question with her lips pursed. You scoff, still not believing it but just overall amused in general. “You’re really throwing me a curveball here, babe. Like – I have never ever heard you talking about Dr. Kim except when you said you’d totally fuck him in that one drinking session. And then, you actually fucking did.”

She rolls her eyes, scoffing. “He started asking me out on dates in January and he asked me to be his girlfriend in Feb. I don’t even know how it happened. It just did,” She shrugs, as if she just said that the skies are blue. “I’m pretty good at hiding, huh?”

You don’t hide the way you instantly frown.

“I’m happy for you, Doyeon, I really am. But… did you not feel like you could tell me? Or any of us?”

At least she looks apologetic, nibbling on her bottom lip before she says, “It’s not that, __. I didn’t know how to tell you guys. There’s this – there’s this thing when you date a co-worker, especially in the hospital. He’s an attendant, and he’s about to be chief of surgery next two months, you know that right? And it’s just— I know you will never think it, or the rest of our friends – but I just. I didn’t want anyone to think that I’m… that I’m sleeping my way here, you know? It’s fucking weird. And Ms. Yan from fuckass HR hates me for some reason. I’d be public enemy number one around here, __.”

You wince hearing her explanation. Nodding, you rub her shoulder to offer some kind of comfort, noticing that she’s actually silently fuming just by the mere thought of that. Meaning she must have been thinking about it for quite some time now.

“But you know we’ll never think of it like that, right?” You confirm with her, just to be sure. You love Doyeon – she’s basically your sister at this point – and you don’t ever want her to feel like she can’t trust you.

“Of course. I don’t… I can’t really offer you any explanation other than I got scared and just wasn’t ready. Joon wants to let people know… and I don’t know. I guess I’m thinking about that too nowadays.” She says, and she’s not really looking at you anymore, seemingly deep in thought.

You begin rubbing her back. “It’s fine if you’re not ready yet.”

“Oh, this is getting kind of mushy. I hate it.” Doyeon says dryly. You push her slightly which sends her sideways a bit, earning a laugh from her.

“Joon, huh?” You decide to tease to lighten up the mood. Instead of backing down and getting shy like you expected, Doyeon raises her brow. “Can I be honest with you, though?” You say, fiddling with your fingers. She nods so you tread lightly to your next words. “This will sound crazy, I know, but for the longest time I thought Jungkook was your secret boyfriend.”

“What the fuck?” Doyeon says, sharp and almost… disgusted. You don’t expect such a reaction.

“Okay, you don’t need to sound so disgusted. Jungkook’s a good-looking guy and he’s very decent.” You say, sounding weirdly defensive – even to your own ears.

“No– that’s not what I meant—” Doyeon cuts herself off with a laugh. “That’s actually really funny, though.” You look at her curiously. “Somehow, I thought about you thinking that. Especially after that time at the villa when you walked in on us talking by the pool deck.”

“I…” you try to come up with an excuse, something to deny her claim, but nothing comes, and your eyebrows knit in confusion because you actually don’t know yourself why you felt that way back then. You still remember the weird feeling that flared up in your chest upon seeing them in such an intimate position — with Jungkook’s head on Doyeon’s stomach and her caressing his head. Maybe you’re more malicious than you let on, but can she really blame you for thinking there was more to that? Besides, Jungkook’s second closest in the group is probably her. It made sense to assume they were secretly together.

“God, don’t,” Doyeon says incredulously. “Obviously, he’s not my secret boyfriend. I don’t like him and he does not like me, at least not that way. That man only has heart eyes for you and I’m only into Namjoon, thank you very much.”

You wince. “Sorry.”

“But were you really jealous that time, though?” Doyeon asks, intrigued. “I mean, I thought about it. You were acting weird. But I kind of just shrugged it off.”

“I was not jealous, what the hell,” you quickly say. “I was just surprised. And you’re both really close, so I don’t know.”

Doyeon arches her brow. “You’re also both close, so going by that logic, are you two together?” You frown at her. She laughs, knowing she proved her point. “Alright, enough about that. How have you been these days?”

You stare at her before sighing.

“I’ve been wanting to say sorry.”

“Damn straight,” she tells you immediately, like she’s been looking forward to it. “Like, you bitch– I thought you died. Not talking to me or to anybody for a week is crazy.”

“It’s not my proudest moment.”

“Why?”

You subtly inhale a shaky breath. “I… to be honest? I thought you guys were mad at me.”

“What?” You can hear the incredulous tone Doyeon’s taking on. And you slowly realize that you completely just conjured a whole ass narrative in your head the whole time.

“I know. I feel terrible about it. But I just… I couldn’t help but think that I ruined… things.”

“Oh…” Doyeon says, and she cranes her neck down to meet your gaze as you’re tucking your head down slightly. “Why did you think that?”

You open your mouth and close it, trying to find the right words.

“I… know I was completely being ambitious when I said I wanted to bring Mingyu along to the trip – and I realize I shouldn’t have done that. Our relationship was still so fresh, and I was already bringing him along to what was supposed to be our vacation. And the fight happened and the whole thing just went to complete shit. We didn’t even get to spend our five nights there because you guys had to book us a flight immediately and I just… I guess I just feel so bad about it. Had I not invited him… the trip would’ve been way more different. Happier, that I’m sure of.”

“__,” Doyeon calls your name firmly. “That was not any of your fault. Sure, you should’ve consulted with us – because I’m not gonna lie, you threw us in for a surprise when you said that Mingyu was coming, but that fight was not your fault. At all. They physically fought each other on their own accord, even though they knew they were already too grown to be doing that shit. Don’t feel guilty about what those men did.”

You bite your lip. “Still. They— uhm. They apparently fought because of me. It’s stupid.”

“Exactly. But… Mingyu kind of deserved it. Sorry.” Doyeon comments.

You wince. “You know?”

“Jungkook told us about it, yeah.” Doyeon says, as if hesitant to even mention his name in the conversation.

You sigh. You’re not really surprised. “Did he… did he tell you guys… everything?”

“He did.” Doyeon confirms. “It’s not actually new news for us, __.”

You look confuse when you meet her gaze. “How do you mean?”

She presses her lips into a thin line. “He’s in love with you. We’ve known for a while,” You stare at her, mouth agape. Doyeon reluctantly adds, “Since med school.”

“Oh.” You close your eyes for a moment. “Even Nayeon?”

She nods. “Yes.”

You’re silent for a while before you look away. Nodding, you whisper, “I see,” You sigh. “I don’t even… I’m not even surprised about that. Even my mother knows — I mean, Jungkook didn’t tell her of course, but she said she knew he had feelings for me.”

“I think… everybody knows, __.” Your eyes fall to Doyeon. She gives you a gentle smile. “Everybody who sees the way Jungkook looks at you immediately knows right away. He doesn’t have to tell someone he likes you for them to know that. Taehyung and I figured it out ourselves as well. And then Nayeon met you both and she did the same thing. Just had to fish out the confirmation from Jungkook himself.”

“That’s…” you trail off, not really knowing what to say. “I’m really stupid for not noticing all this time, huh?”

“Hmm… maybe. Sort of. But also, not really. I guess it must’ve been just different for you. We’re just bystanders of your interactions — when Jungkook teases you like a fucker it’s easy to assume he’s flirting with you, but it must’ve been annoying as hell for you.”

You chuckle a bit. But it’s with fondness as you agree, “Yeah…”

“He sucks ass at flirting.”

“I agree…” you trail off. “I – well, you probably know, but I told him I don’t believe him,” Doyeon hums, listening in. “I regret saying that. It really hurt him. But… who can blame me, Doyeon? I mean, am I not right for having doubts? Being confused? I mean, okay, yes, I was taken for the first four years we knew each other but I was— I was available two years ago and he didn’t— he didn't do anything. Why didn’t he do anything?” The words are coming off as a rant, you’re fully aware, but you let yourself go, anyway. “He was dating all those women and I just… how am I supposed to believe him when I thought he showed me the opposite?”

“You mean how were you supposed to believe him when he sleeps around?”

You shut your eyes close. “I don’t– I don’t necessarily think he sleeps around, okay? Jungkook’s not a fuckboy or someone who sleeps with anyone with a pulse. He’s too grown for that shit. But I… I just meant, that… he dated a lot all throughout the time we knew each other, so where was I in the equation? You know what I mean?”

Doyeon stares at you for a bit, then she nods, looking ahead. “I know what you mean.”

“Yeah?”

She nods. Then, “Are you worried he’s not sincere about his feelings? Because he dated a lot of people?”

“I-I’m not sure about that.” But maybe, that thought bothers you a bit.

“When was the last time he was with somebody?”

You don’t mean to sound defensive when you retort back with, “I wouldn’t know that. Contrary to popular belief, Jungkook and I do not actually talk about everything, and that includes our sex lives, but I know when he’s… seeing somebody.”

“How?” Doyeon asks, looking at you. She wasn’t trying to trick you into anything, just genuine curiosity written all over her face.

You shy away from her gaze. “Four months ago… Nayeon’s engagement party. He was checking that woman out.”

“Oh… Kwon Jihyo?”

Your brows furrow. “You know her?”

Doyeon nods. “Yeah. Physio class back in freshman year. I talked to her at the party as well,” you grow more confused and Doyeon adds, “Also, she’s gay. Married with two kids.”

“Oh.”

That earns a chuckle from Doyeon. Tapping your arm, she tells you, “You don’t have a gay radar, it’s fine.”

“Oh my god…” you slap a hand on your forehead. “I teased him about sleeping with her after the party…”

You’ve always seen Jungkook as a regular ladies man in your head due to the fact that he gets women, quite very easily. Empirically, Jungkook goes on a lot of dates. But to be completely honest with yourself, you don’t even know the extent of those said dates. Jungkook doesn’t exactly oppose it when you lightheartedly tease him about being a playboy, but you do notice when that puts him off a bit.

Maybe you should’ve pried – maybe he gets put off because it’s simply not true? But you don’t think it’s not not true either, so… do you really think he sleeps around?

“Look,” Doyeon suddenly says which makes you look at her, snapping you out of your own messy thoughts. “I’m not trying to defend him or put in a good word for him or whatever. But I do know that you know him better than I do, so I’m sure you don’t actually think he isn’t sincere about his feelings for you. If you’re worried about his dating history, talk to him about that – but if we’re going by technical definition here, I don’t think Jungkook sleeps around, __. He doesn’t have a new woman switched out for another every seven business days, does he? Or is that a wrong assumption—”

“God, no,” you roll your eyes at her. “And anyway, why are we talking about this? I don’t care who he has sex with. He can do whatever he wants. He’s a grown man.”

“Yeah… but you just said it’s sort of the reason why you’re holding back.”

You feel blood rushing to your cheek because… that is true. You don’t even know why. Because you stand for what you said that he can do whatever the hell he wants. He’s young and he’s objectively attractive and he can have sex whenever he wants…

But somehow, that very thought — of Jungkook being with anybody that way, suddenly made a weird feeling flare up in your chest. You’ve never really paid it mind before, but right now that you now know what you know…

“It just kind of hurts a bit, I guess.” You say, not looking at Doyeon. “I mean, it’s irrational, really. I don’t expect him to be celibate for the eight years he’s claimed to love me, that’s just insane. I’ve also had sex with other people throughout the time and it would be unfair of me to dwell on the fact that he’s been with other people in the past when I also have but… it’s just… you know…” you trail off, and you feel like you’re gonna burst with so much embarrassment from the thoughts running through your head.

“I know… what?” Doyeon says, trying to fill in the gaps.

“I guess I just…” you swallow the lump in your throat. “I guess…. I guess I just expected him to want only me.”

“Oh.” you look at Doyeon. “Oh wow. That’s…”

You huff. “It’s childish, I know. It’s so stupid – I can’t think that. It’s unfair for him.”

Doyeon shakes her head. “No, I mean, I get that. I get that completely,” She scoots closer to you. “You have to know, though, that for the past eight years, Jungkook has tried many times to move on from you.” That words felt like a bucket of cold water. He’s tried…? Doyeon gives you a small smile when she notices the way your face fell. “It was really tough for him when you and Eunwoo got serious, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He tried seeing other people, in the hopes that they could make him feel what he does for you. He didn’t do that in vain – like he did it maliciously in hopes that you would get jealous or whatever. He did that – he does that – because he also genuinely wants to be with someone who can reciprocate his feelings. Min Sora was really close… but I don’t really know what happened to that. I’ve assumed since then that he must still probably love you. And he still apparently does, even to this day. I’m not saying all of this in favor of him, okay? But do you not want to give him a chance because of that? He really loves you, __. He admires you a lot. You don’t know how much he’s just in awe of you. He talks about you a lot when you’re not around, and he’d ditch just about anything to get to you with one call. Look… I don’t know what you feel, and at the end of the day, you call the shots. But I think he’s worth it, __. Because I know him as well and everybody knows he’ll treat you right. You just gotta give him the chance.”

You take in Doyeon’s words carefully.

“That’s not really the only thing I’m skeptical about,” you sigh. “Him having slept with other people is not the top of my concern, because we weren’t in any relationship. Again, I couldn’t have expected him to be celibate all this time. What I’m really worried about is the fact that he’s so— he’s so important to me, Doyeon. I’ve known him for eight years and he’s… he’s quite literally the best thing that ever happened to me—” you stop for awhile because you feel your voice breaking, just in time when the sides of your eyes sting with precedent tears. But you can’t cry right now. You’ve done that a lot in the past few days. “And if— and if I do feel the same, and then we do this thing, what if it all goes wrong? I don’t – I can’t really bear the thought of him not present in my life. I have never considered that ever since I’ve known him. I’m so lucky with my friendships but my romantic relationships all suck. They’re shit. And I don’t want to have a shit romantic relationship with Jungkook, because that would mean I’d lose him. And I don’t want to lose him… do you— do you get me, Doyeon? I’m so scared. Because there's this part of me that wholeheartedly believes what he said, but there’s a bigger part of me that’s in denial because I can’t stop thinking about things going wrong.”

“Hey,” Doyeon gently calls, and you don’t realize that you’ve been holding back a sob because the moment she scoots closer, arm circling your back, you bury your face in her chest and let out a quiet cry. She cradles your head, and you close your eyes at that. “What if things don’t go wrong, though? What if it works out?”

You sniffle. “But things always go wrong for me and my boyfriends. I don’t know what I did to deserve it, but they just never end well.”

Doyeon lets out a heavy breath. “I completely understand that. Again, you know Jungkook better than I do. Better than anybody I know, really. You would know exactly what he’s capable of – and that includes the possibility of him hurting you, or the lack of it thereof. It’s really your choice, __. Just… just talk to him, okay? He’s been wanting to, but you’re not reaching out and he said he didn’t want to suffocate you or anything like that.”

You quickly perk up at that. “He said that?” Doyeon nods. It makes your shoulders deflate. “But… but we were in the elevator today and he…”

“He what?”

“He… uhm… well I said something stupid,” you wince, wiping the stray tears from your cheeks. “I said I miss him, but he didn’t – I don’t know. He didn’t say anything,” Nibbling on your bottom lip anxiously, you look at Doyeon reluctantly, gauging her reaction. “I think he actually hates me now.”

Doyeon is quiet for a moment before she speaks. “You just… you really have no clue how much he loves you, huh? You can kill a close relative of his and he’ll make excuses for you, I don’t doubt that even for a second,” She says and for a moment you’re a bit offended because you’re getting kind of tired of people pointing out that Jungkook being into you is obvious like how the grasses are green, but Doyeon shakes her head, face in pure disbelief. And you just know she didn’t mean it that way. She genuinely looks baffled. “You really need to talk, __. This is… it really hurts seeing you both like this."

You tuck your head down. “I’m thinking about it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I think… I’m going back to our place tonight. But I’m not sure. I’ll probably chicken out last minute.”

Doyeon pats your arm. “Do it, okay? Just be honest with yourself and to him. You both need that.”

You give her a small, weak smile.

You’re pretty much drained the moment you arrive at your place. Sighing heavily, you punch in the passcode and almost feel your knees buckling at the sight of the interior of your apartment.

It feels like it’s been so long since you’ve been here, and coupled with the discussion that you had with Doyeon yesterday, everything suddenly feels overstimulating and there’s an urge at the sides of your eyes to cry.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you breathe in and out as you enter the threshold, noting the fact that nobody is at home. Or Jungkook isn’t present anywhere in the living room. You’re a bit grateful for that if you have to be honest to yourself – after all, the last time that you talked to him did not exactly go as well as you’d like.

He could be in his room, though. That’s what you assume as you go straight over to the kitchen in hopes to heat up the take-out that you bought at the driveway. As you leave your phone on the counter, you notice the to-go container from Chipotle on the same surface, as well as the laptop that is left open beside it.

So Jungkook is home.

The question is, where could he possibly be, leaving out his stuff here in the kitchen? Might be in his bedroom to grab something real quick?

You don’t mean to do the next thing that comes to your mind, but your feet – your stupid feet – track back from the microwave to the island, and your eyes betray you as they go look and read the words on the screen of Jungkook’s macbook.

The tab that shows is an apartment listing website, and besides are more tabs that show some familiar real-estate names you’ve come to on the internet before when you were looking for a place.

It makes you freeze in your spot, eyes glued to the daunting images of the apartment layout that Jungkook must’ve clicked on awhile ago, and you take note that he’s seemingly, specifically, looking for one-apartment bedrooms and studio apartments.

Your mind goes into a sudden haywire at the sight.

What does this mean?

“Oh, hey,”

The embodied voice makes your head snap to its direction, and you see Jungkook standing in front of you in his sweats and shirt – his usual home clothes – with a charger in his hand.

“Jungkook.” You say, or more like, breathe out. Your heart feels like it’s somersaulting for some reason at the sight of him.

But Jungkook looks just as surprised as you.

“I… I didn’t know you’re coming ho– back.” He says, and there’s a twinge in your heart that you ignore when you caught him pointedly avoiding the word home when pertaining to your place. Somehow, that felt intentional.

But you give him a smile. Probably a weak one. Probably doesn’t really look like a smile at all and more like a grimace. If Jungkook notices, he doesn’t say anything. Just goes straight to the direction of the highchairs on the island and plug in his charger for his laptop.

Then, he turns to look at you. “Uh... you just got off from your shift?”

“Yeah. You too?” You say, nibbling your bottom lip with your teeth. A nervous habit.

“Nah, got off a few hours ago.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Yeah.”

You nod your head. You stand there for a while, letting the silence that’s admittedly awkward hang in the air.

It’s weird, really. Jungkook and you usually have a lot to say to each other – but right now, there doesn’t seem to be a single thing you can say to one another.

It breaks your heart that’s the current case.

“Well, uhm. That’s Zillow.” You say, pointing to his laptop. The moment the words left your lips you swear you could have slapped yourself.

How stupid to ask him about it. How incredibly stupid for that thing to be your choice of topic after weeks of no proper communication with him.

Jungkook seems surprised at this, though, turning his head immediately to look at his own laptop. There’s a certain jerk in his movements when he moves his fingers to the trackpad that closes the entire window of the internet and shows his wallpaper instead.

“Oh. Yeah. That was… Zillow.”

Stupid, stupid you makes everything even more awkward when you say, “You’re looking for a place?”

Jungkook stares at you for awhile. There’s a pregnant pause, and then he nods his head. A bit hesitant. But his voice is full when he speaks.

“Yeah.”

So, he’s moving out. That’s what you think as you avoid looking at his face and let your gaze fall back to his laptop.

You give him a small smile.

“Ah. Good luck with the search, then.”

Your heart completely breaks when you say the words.

Suddenly, the words of your supposed confession get stuck and they die in your throat. You let yourself believe that coming home tonight would fix everything; you just had to go inside, talk to Jungkook, tell him you were sorry about what you said – and the rest would just do its thing and you'll be back to okay.

But he's moving out, and every bit of hope in you shuts down.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything for a while, and you’re just about to turn on your heels to go to your room but then he utters lowly, almost like a whisper.

“It’s not final.”

“Hm?” You hum, not sure if you caught that.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Jungkook looks away as he says again, “I mean, I’m just looking. I was gonna talk to you before I finalize my plans.”

“Talk to me? Why?”

“Since we’re on a joint lease and all that.”

“Oh.” You nod to yourself, dumbfounded. It's embarrassing the way you lit up with expectation when he said it wasn't final, for it to completely die anyway when he said that. You feel like you're not wanted. “Yeah. Right.”

“I assume you’re tired from your shift, though, so maybe we can go over it tomorrow? Or any day you like, really.” Jungkook shrugs.

“No, tonight’s fine,” You wave your hand, walking towards his direction and seating yourself on the chair beside him. You try to focus all your attention on the screen in front of you instead of Jungkook’s overwhelming presence. You’ve always thought he was big but tonight, he feels even bigger and you’re intimidated. “Are you writing a notice to the landlord?”

“Yeah – I mean, after we talk about the move, that is.”

“Wow.” You can’t help but let out. “You really thought about all this while I was away?”

You regret the words just as instantly as they leave your mouth.

Looking at Jungkook hesitantly, you watch as his face falls, mouth opening and closing, as if at a loss for words.

You take them back before he says something. “Sorry — I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.” Sharp and edgy, clipped and… angry. Sort of accusatory. Like you’re pinning something bad on him.

“It’s fine.” Jungkook says after awhile, returning back his gaze on the laptop.

His withdrawal makes you deflate. He seems so uninterested. Is he done with you? Just like that?

“You know what,” You utter after a pregnant pause, standing up from the chair and getting back on your feet. “I actually have a headache. I think we should go over this tomorrow.”

Jungkook looks confused but he nods, anyway. “I just… stocked up on Advil yesterday. So, if you need it… it’s just in the kit.”

“Sure. Thanks,” You give him a small smile. “I’ll, just go, uh, shower for a bit.” You point to the bathroom across from you.

Before you go, Jungkook calls your name.

“__.”

You turn around to look at him. “Yes?”

“Are you…” He trails off. You wish he’d look at you like he usually does. “Are you back for good?”

You don’t expect that question at all. But you collect yourself on time to respond. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

Jungkook’s expression is something unreadable, so you throw him an awkward smile. You’re not sure if he returned it, because everything is becoming too much, and you can’t help but overthink every single thing he does. So, before you can dwell on that, you go straight to the bathroom to do your business.

You shower quickly – you can’t focus when you know that Jungkook is just outside, and he can probably hear the water running. You’ve never really paid thoughts to these stuff except the first few weeks of moving in with him, but right now, there’s a certain awkward tension in the air and it’s slowly suffocating you. You needed to get out of the shower box quick.

And so you did, but you don’t expect the series of knocks on the door, with Jungkook’s voice behind it.

“__?”

“Y-yeah?” You stammer, wrapping your towel around you (that Jungkook thankfully hasn’t thrown out yet) with haste and getting to the door immediately to answer him.

When you open it, Jungkook visibly freezes for a bit. And you realize you’re in nothing but a piece of cotton; bare underneath, droplets of water running through your body from the tips of your uncovered, wet hair.

You consciously tighten the towel around your body, making sure to act unbothered when you say, “What?”

Jungkook seems to snap out of the moment just as you did. When you follow the hand that he lifts, you see your phone in it. Weirdly enough, you had time to notice the way the device fits so small in his hand when you can barely wrap your phone around your fingers yourself.

What the actual fuck are you talking about, you tell yourself at the back of your head. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck—

“You left this on the counter. Mingyu’s been calling you.”

It’s like you’ve been suddenly hit by a truck upon hearing the name.

“Oh. Okay. Sorry about that.” You take your phone when he offers it to you. You don’t know why but you avoid Jungkook’s eyes as you step out of the bathroom and press the decline button, causing the ringtone to stop abruptly.

You don’t look back at him as you enter your bedroom, locking the door and throwing your phone on the mattress and going straight to your closet.

Nothing much has changed since the last seven or so days. What would change, anyway? It’s not like Jungkook has some sort of business in here.

When you finished dressing yourself up with your usual pajamas, a worn-out tee and a pair of short shorts, you go over right to your bed, picking up your phone.

The notification bar says that you have six missed calls from Mingyu and two texts. An upgrade from his three to four times in the previous days.

See, it’s not only Jungkook or Doyeon or Nayeon or Taehyung whom you’ve been avoiding. It’s also Mingyu. The last time that you two talked was when you said goodbye to each other when he was catching his flight from the resort. You’ve completely shut everybody out after that thing happened, and again, it’s not your proudest moment. You’re only non-confrontational to a certain degree, but you usually handle your problems like a grown woman.

You just really don’t know how to handle this one.

But Mingyu’s been calling, and you haven’t answered or replied to any of his messages ever since.

It’s just… everytime you think about him… it hurts.

It hurts to think of somebody you’ve given your trust to, only for them to step on it without any remorse. It hurts that you once thought he was going to be the one, only for him to end up as someone you’re starting to… hate. It hurts extremely that just eight days ago, you held this high level of adoration for him, but now you don’t feel anything at all but simmering anger.

Sighing, you click on his message instead of sliding it out, gearing yourself for what you’re about to read.

gyu😽 [10:15pm]: Dinner at my place tonight? gyu😽 [10:32pm]: Can you pick up my calls?

You scrolled through the other ones he sent in the past week, and you find out that they’re simply just a variation of “do you want to have dinner together tonight”, “why aren’t you picking up?” and shockingly… a couple texts of “i miss you”.

You’ve only been bullshitting when you told Jungkook that you had a headache, but right now that excuse might be true because you can feel a tick in your head, a certain bang on the front, and you just want all of this to end.

Letting out a controlled breath, you swallow the lump in your throat as you type a reply. Finally.

You [10:50pm]: Can we talk tomorrow?

To your surprise, Mingyu responds quickly.

gyu😽 [10:51pm]: of course. dinner?

You [10:52pm]: yeah. i get off at around 8 tomorrow.

gyu😽 [10:52pm]: I have some paperworks to attend to but 8 is fine by me. gyu😽 [10:53pm]: Can we go to a restaurant? gyu😽 [10:53pm]: I haven’t cleaned my place so I thought we could go outside

You [10:54pm]: It’s alright. Also, no need to pick me up. I’ll uber.

gyu😽 [10:55pm]: You sure?

You [10:56pm]: Yeah.

gyu😽 [10:56pm]: Alright then.

You don’t get a lot of sleep that night.

“Hey, sorry I’m a bit late. The partners had a meeting over at the firm,” Mingyu says, loosening his tie a little, breathing a bit sharp as he takes the seat across from you.

You nod, giving him a small smile. Taking a sip from your water, you watch as Mingyu fixes his tie again, some sort of attempt to look kempt, like he hasn’t just run here. He was in a rush, and you feel bad that he had to go over here quickly when the partners meeting was probably something important. He could’ve canceled and you wouldn’t have mind.

“So. Hi,” Mingyu greets you as if he’s making up for his rash entrance earlier. He gives you a smile, the one that’s his usual charming smile – you remember fawning over it the first time you met him. “How have you been?”

“Fine. I’ve been doing well.” you answer. In your lap, your fingers fiddle with each other.

You’ve thought about how you are going to go over this, but obviously the scenarios that played in your head yesterday and before you went here were so much more different than now. You weren’t an anxious mess in your imagination.

Mingyu nods. “That’s good to hear. Been doing fine as well.” He says casually.

That makes something flare up in your chest.

Fine? He’s been doing fine?

Before you can say something, a waiter comes up to your table to give you the menu, and that effectively keeps you from saying the words you were probably going to regret as soon as they come out of your mouth.

You both tell your respective orders to the waiter before he walks away, leaving you two nodding and smiling ahead. When he’s gone, you’re left alone with Mingyu again.

You look at him — and his usual suits and tie ensemble would usually make you gush internally about how good he looks, how you can still see the way he’s built under the pristine fabric of his clothes, and how attractive he is the way he carries himself.

“I’m glad you called me tonight, sweetheart.”

And you don’t expect the way the hairs on your body tingle with… ick.

“Sure.” You say, drinking from your glass of water again.

Just get over it, your mind convinces you. But how are you going to approach it?

Moments pass and then suddenly, Mingyu lets out a heavy breath. You peer up at him, raising a brow.

“Alright, I’m not gonna skirt around this anymore, __,” He says, and his eyebrows are knitted in what seems like confusion when he meets your gaze. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been avoiding me.”

The confrontation somehow eases you even though it shouldn’t.

Licking your bottom lip – an anxious habit that you try hard to forgo – you compose yourself before you say, “I have. Yes, you’re right.”

“Why?” Mingyu asks with genuine curiosity.

Somehow, this bothers you. Does he really not know or he’s just pretending not to know? Whichever it is, it does not really make you feel any better about him. If he’s pretending not to know, then he’s an even bigger asshole than you’re letting him on, but if he does not know, then that’s just even worse. Imagine doing all of those things and not being aware that you did something wrong enough to upset people?

“I have to be completely honest with you, Mingyu. I want to break up.”

The words come out easily as opposed to what you expected.

Somehow, it’s strange, really. You’ve never dumped anybody before. Of course, you don’t count those casual dates you’ve had in the past two years because they were never that serious. But usually, in your long relationships, the other guy does the dumping and never you.

So, right now, as you sit across from Mingyu, finally declaring what you’ve been thinking over the past week, you feel a sense of liberation. A cliché, really. There’s a feeling of discomfort gnawing at some parts of you, but you choose to ignore it, bravely meeting his gaze instead.

“What?”

“I want to break up with you.” You reiterate, this time fuller so he knows your decision is final.

His mouth opens and closes, and there’s a pregnant pause that hangs in the air before he finds his tongue. “But why?”

“Are you serious?” You can’t help but snap. “Do you really not know?”

“No. Fill me in, because I’m confused.” Mingyu doubles down, and it fires you up a little bit.

“Mingyu, Jungkook told me everything,” You say, and you notice the way his expression changes into something more… unreadable the moment you dropped Jungkook’s name. “And I mean everything. What you did with his girlfriend back in college, and what you said about me to goad him into a fight. I mean, what were you thinking, Mingyu? All of that was just… low. Even for you. I can’t believe you’d do any of that.” You catch your breath after you say the words, not realizing how heavy it would feel to let them out. You’ve never been confrontational, would prefer if the other person did all the talking, and to do this right now is taking so much from you.

“He told you everything?” Mingyu asks again. You watch as he relaxes his posture, and you grow confused when his lips curl into a smirk. “I knew he would do that. Come crying to you with his lovesick head. Did he finally grow some to tell you he loves you, then?”

You recoil, not expecting that. “That’s none of your business.”

“It is my business. You’re my girlfriend.”

“I’m not anymore.”

Mingyu inhales a sharp breath. “So, you’re choosing him?”

“I—I— what?” you blurt out, surprised at his audacity. “I’m not choosing anybody. And it’s really bold of you to assume that you’re still one of my options after all that.”

Scoffing, Mingyu drinks from his water. He looks at you with a blank stare as he says, “Well, be honest with me now. Do you love him?”

“Do I love him?” You chuckle, not the least bit of humor in it. “You don’t really deserve my honesty, Mingyu. You had all of those four months to be honest with me and you didn’t do shit. Don’t ask me any personal questions and expect me to give you an honest answer. Because I won’t give you any of it.”

“You said a lot of things but I know you love him just as much as he loves you.”

“What are you talking about?”

This time, Mingyu’s tone borders on sharp when he leans down to get to you closer so you can hear him clearly. “You think it was easy for me to be in a relationship with you when all you could talk and think about was Jungkook? Jungkook who was only supposedly your bestfriend?” It’s said with so much wrath that you can’t help but physically recoil at his words. When you don’t say anything, Mingyu continues, “Jungkook told me this movie’s good, Jungkook said their aglio e olio tastes great, Jungkook and I were just talking about this — I could go on how many times you’ve always managed to insert him in anything even when we’re together, but I did not want to be that kind of boyfriend who got jealous over their girl’s friends, and I was that for you – and you think I’m the bad guy here?”

You blink, mouth opening and closing. You fish for some words, something to defend yourself with. Have you really said all that? Did you really do that? Did you really talk about Jungkook enough times that Mingyu took notice of it?

You’ve always thought that your friendship with Jungkook is platonic. You’ve convinced yourself of that and Jungkook seemed to think the same — at least that’s what you thought prior to his confession – and you like to think that your friendship works, even though the majority of people don’t agree that opposite genders can be purely friends.

But… did you think wrong? Did you really just convince yourself it was platonic when all along… it was not?

You don’t exactly recall the moments that you talked about him while you were with Mingyu. It’s hard to when talking about Jungkook just comes like second nature. You don’t count the times you see the grass being green – because they are and will always be green.

And that’s what Jungkook is to you. He’s been such a constant presence in your life that you can’t help but bring him up in any case because… because it just feels right to do so.

Now you think about your relationship with Eunwoo. How he never really liked Jungkook. Did he think the same as Mingyu? Did you also talk about your best friend too much in his presence? Did he count the times you mentioned Jungkook’s name in your conversations? Do you really talk so much about him?

“See?” Mingyu says after a while and it snaps you out of your stupor. “Don’t tell me I’m a liar when you’ve also been lying to me this whole time.”

“How dare you?” You snap at him. You can take him pointing out about the thing with Jungkook, but never this. “I didn’t hide anything from you. I was not the one with the history of cheating with their friend’s girlfriend and I didn’t talk behind your back like you’re merely just a piece of meat.”

Mingyu visibly stills and you bite your lip after saying the words. You didn’t mean for it to come out that way. Didn’t really mean to say that in the first place. But it’s done and you can’t cry over spilled milk.

Doesn’t negate the fact that you feel like shit, though.

“You think I didn’t regret what I did?” Mingyu says, a little quiet this time. If you weren’t at the quieter part of the restaurant, in a booth where the sound of the classical music and people’s chatters are muffled, you won’t hear him at all. “Jungkook and I were close, __. We really were. And I fucked up and ruined his trust. But you also don’t know how and why that happened. Jiyeon was already cheating on him before she hit on me–”

“Oh, so is that the part where you volunteered to be one of her “victims”, too?” You say sarcastically, cutting him off, incredulous about the fact that he’s really trying to make excuses for himself right now.

“We were fucking drunk– and high, okay? We didn’t know what we were doing.” Mingyu says through his teeth, and it’s the first time you see him lose control. He’s always so kempt and so composed, it’s baffling you’re seeing him in this state.

But you refuse to believe his bullshit.

“You know what, I don't know why you’re saying this to me. You should be saying this to Jungkook and frankly, I simply don’t care. What happened back then is between you – don’t include me into any of your arguments ever again,” You say exasperatedly. “My issue is that – and why I’m breaking up with you in the first place – is that you lied to me, Mingyu. You lied to me about so much. And If I were to go through this relationship with you longer, I don't know what else you’re going to lie to me about, and I don’t want that. Let’s not waste each other’s time and end it right here, right now.”

Mingyu leans back on his seat. “I can’t change your mind even if I apologize to you about that, huh?”

You shake your head.

He nods.

“Alright.”

You look at him again.

Kim Mingyu has sharp features that usually make him look broody from an outsider perspective, but you’ve seen the way he smiles and how gentle he looks when he does. Right now, though, he looks… genuinely sad.

He lied to you, yes, but somehow, there’s still some part of you that wants to know if he felt the least bit genuine about you. That it wasn’t all just a ploy to get to Jungkook.

“Did you really like me? Even for a moment?” You break the silence, voice breaking slightly at the end.

Mingyu looks up at you and you don’t expect the way his lips curl up into a small smile. “Yes, __. I did. I liked you the first time we met and believe it or not, I still have feelings for you right now.”

You look away to avoid his intense gaze.

It’s weird. It’s so weird. Because even though you know in your heart that he’s not and will never be good for you and that he’s not a loss, your heart still aches at the declaration.

“I don’t really know if I believe that.” You say, almost like a whisper.

“I’m sorry, then.” Mingyu says, and it sounds so sincere that you start to feel some sort of stinging in both sides of your eyes.

In what seemed like forever, the waiter arrives with your orders, and you both look up and offer him a hand in placing them on your table, bidding him thanks as he once again walks away.

You and Mingyu both look at your food.

“I think I’m going first. I have a trial tomorrow, so I need to take care of that.” He says suddenly.

Nibbling your bottom lip, you watch as he begins to fix his shirt, ready to stand up.

“Okay.”

“__?” You look up at him when he calls your name. He seems to hesitate for a bit, but he says, “Can you… can you tell Jungkook I’m sorry?”

Staring at his face, you try to look for a hint of sarcasm. Or anything indicative of malice. But all you see is sincerity.

At that, you shake your head. “No.” Mingyu’s face falls. “Talk to him yourself if you really are sorry. I’m not your mailman, Mingyu.”

He sighs. “Alright. I guess you’re right,” And then, “And I’m saying sorry, to you too, you didn’t deserve that. I was angry, and that’s not an excuse. So, I’m sorry. Will you…” he clears his throat. “Will you ever forgive me?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. Probably.”

Mingyu gives you a timid smile. “Okay.”

When he takes out his wallet and a black card from there, you instantly stop him from calling over the waiter.

“No, it’s fine, I’ll take care of it. I’m the one who invited you here.” You say, talking him out of paying.

He shakes his head, insisting, “It’s okay.”

“Seriously, I can handle it.”

Mingyu lets out a chuckle which makes you smile a bit before you scold yourself.

“I know. But can you let me? This is… this is probably the last time we’ll see each other.”

At that, you relax back in your seat, staring at him. He stares right back at you.

With a slow nod, you let him call over the waiter.

He departs with a small goodbye that you return with a timid wave.

When you go home that night, you cried yourself to sleep, thankful that Jungkook hasn’t come home from his shift yet.

Things are… fine.

Unlike your previous break-ups that left you in agony for the following days after it happened, the one with Mingyu did not really leave a huge emotional impact. It makes you wonder if you’ve overestimated your feelings for him… makes you question yourself if you really thought he was the one when things were fine, and you both dated happily.

You don’t bother yourself looking for answers, because the relationship is done and there’s no point in going over the details when it’s you yourself who ended the ties.

While that is not the sole reason of your melancholic feeling these days, it lies on another person; your roommate, Jungkook – your best friend of eight years who’s apparently been in love with you the whole time.

It’s only been a few weeks ever since you talked about him moving out. He said it was about time for him to leave the place – he’s been here longer than you, after all. He wrote and sent the notice to his landlord, and it’s been about two weeks since then, so you assume he’s already got his approval.

While things may look normal and right from an outsider’s perspective… things aren’t exactly the way they were before.

Jungkook and you are close. You share almost everything together. Your friendship has been honed throughout the many years and obstacles you’ve faced together and so it’s only natural for you two to be as close.

But nowadays… you can feel that closeness slipping away. It flares up something inside you; like that feeling of grief when you remember that friend in highschool who you stopped talking to after graduation. You don’t know exactly what the reason is for the abrupt end of communication, but the finish line is there and you’ve both reached it without the other knowing – and you’re left fending for yourselves, looking ahead at your own worlds and letting your lives flow to the stream of the river.

It’s strange, really; how everything feels somewhat normal but also really under that condition.

Jungkook and you would text each other nonstop – he could be in his own room, and he’d still text you about random shit that ends up with him going to your room anyway just to annoy you for a bit before you kick him out and you both go to sleep. He’d ask to borrow something – anything, ask your food preference for the night, and he’d always ask you when your shift ends so you can go together if your schedules align. Meanwhile, you ask him to join you in the living room for spontaneous movie nights, ask him to give you a massage, and you’d both talk about your days, catching up on the hours you weren’t together.

And now there’s none of that.

Now, you both greet each other when the other one gets home almost like a chore. Like how your roommate from college used to welcome you when you arrived at the dorm from classes. When either you or he is in the living room or something, you’d both tell each other that “Dinner’s in the fridge, you can microwave it”, instead of “What do you think we should have for dinner?”. Jungkook asks if you need a ride to the hospital because he knows you don’t have a car anymore, but you refuse because it’s obvious it’s just for formality.

You don’t know if it’s just the overthinker in you, but it feels like Jungkook’s pulling back and he has no intention of making things right – or talk about what happened.

He’s so… he’s so civil.

And you miss him so much it makes you sad.

It makes you confused. Sort of mad. He makes you feel a lot of things – but you hate that you’ve just been compartmentalizing and not doing any processing at all.

You spent the past few weeks pointing out to yourself the differences that your relationship is going through. You spend some nights beating yourself up whether to go barge in his room and confront him with everything – but you do none of that.

Instead, you pretend everything’s okay. At the hospital, you’ve no longer avoided him and said hi which he returns with a smile. Nayeon, Taehyung, and Doyeon, thought at first that everything’s back to normal, but you know they’re slowly realizing that it has not.

Tonight, though, at Nayeon’s reception party after her wedding, you try hard to ignore all those angsts and choose to enjoy yourself instead. It’s Nayeon’s big day. The last thing you wanted to be was a bum.

Everybody is socializing with each other, and since you’ve had your fair share of conversations with other people at this point, you choose to sit out on the dance.

Suddenly, Billy Joel’s Uptown Girl is playing and the majority coos and exclaims in excitement as they hurry to the dancefloor, some taking their partners along with them.

“Look, they’re playing your favorite song.”

Your head snaps to the side in reflex to see who it was, only to see Jungkook. Words get caught in your tongue for a moment, a bit surprised to see him. You mean – sure, he’s been here for a while. It is Nayeon’s wedding, after all, but weirdly enough, you two haven’t shared a conversation yet throughout the day.

Until now, anyway.

Recovering from your initial surprise, you scoot over to the side, giving him space to maybe… sit beside you?

“That’s not my favorite song.” You scoff, sipping on your champagne right after, looking right ahead as you feel Jungkook situating himself on the chair beside you.

“Oh… has it changed now?” Jungkook says, and there’s a lilt of teasing tone to it that you look at him in wonder.

Meeting his gaze, you find he’s just smiling at you. He’s in an off-white tux, a lily pinned on his chest pocket. He’s done his hair in that usual way he cleans up for formal events like this, gelled and parted slightly off center to show off his forehead. It’s slightly longer than you’ve last noticed it looked, and you think he hasn’t been trimming it…

Nonetheless, he looks simply put… dashing.

“I change my favorite song every five to seven business days,” you say coolly. “Anyway, why aren’t you there?” you point to where the flock of people is having a ball to Billy Joel.

Truthfully, you kind of wish you were there as well. You’ve always danced to that song in your room or in the shower.

“I’m right where I want to be,” Jungkook shrugs. “Why aren’t you there?”

You lie, “I’m right where I want to be as well.”

He hums. “You don’t want to show them your moves?”

You look at him in disbelief, gawking at him. “Are you teasing me?”

Jungkook widens his eyes, but you know he knows what you’re talking about, and it sounds like he’s trying to keep from laughing when he says, “No. I just happen to know you’re a great dancer.”

With that, you feel yourself getting carried away by how easily your conversation goes. It makes you think about the old times – where talking to him always made your day because he's funny and he makes you laugh and you make him laugh.

“Fuck off. You know very well I have two left feet.” You chuckle, shaking your head at him.

“Wasn’t the case when you were dancing inside a boiler room during med school at that rave party we went to, but okay.”

You can’t help but laugh louder, and with that, you jab a lighthearted slap to his bicep without thinking too much of it.

“I told you that never happened.”

“Oh…” Jungkook puts down his champagne and cocks his head to the side. “What happened?”

You giggle. Yes, giggle. Like a schoolgirl. And you watch as Jungkook joins in your laughter, taking the glass close to his face to sip from it.

Then: “You wanna dance?” Jungkook suddenly says, but he’s looking at the dancefloor.

“Hm. Dunno. Uptown Girl isn’t exactly rave music.”

That earns you a chuckle from Jungkook. “But it’s fun music, right?”

Soon after, he stands up from his seat. You look at him questioningly, but he mirrors it back with an expectant gaze and a raised brow. Seeing you getting apprehensive, he offers his hand and that’s when you roll your eyes, taking his hand as you pretend to stand up against your will and follow him to the crowd.

You chuckle as Jungkook suddenly sways his hips to the upbeat of the song, moving his arms around playfully. You’d like to think he’s doing that intentionally – to make you laugh? Loosen up? Whatever the idea behind it, it’s effective, because you can’t stop laughing as you watch him.

“Come on, we do this all the time!” Jungkook says over the loud music and people’s candid chattering.

And he’s not wrong because you do have mini parties in the living room of your apartment, pretending like the city before the glass wall across the area is your audience.

But you two are usually drunk during those moments, and right now, with only one glass of champagne, you’re not near being tipsy.

“This is so silly!” You exclaim, but you find yourself matching Jungkook’s spontaneous choreography, and it earns you a laugh from him as well.

“And when she’s walking, she’s looking so fi-i-ne,” Jungkook sings along, gesturing to you. You cover your face because you can’t stop laughing at how he looks – how you two must look – but you’re almost sure nobody’s paying attention because everybody is just having fun on their own. He has a good voice, though – even though he’s trying to act goofy with it. Jungkook doesn’t like when people point it out, or more like, gets shy when you bring it up.

Suddenly, he steps closer to you and reaches for your hand. Looking at him with confusion, still with that wide grin on your face, he gives you a playful smile before he guides your arm upwards. You utter a sound of a delighted snort, understanding where he’s getting at. With Jungkook guiding you, you do a mildly successful turn that makes you both laugh because as you were just getting back in your original position, you almost trip. Good thing that Jungkook’s there to catch you by the waist, the contact only lasting for a brief second before he lets go to dance on his own again.

“I wish I was an uptown girl!” You yell over the music.

“You’re kinda an uptown girl if you think about it.” Jungkook responds, nodding his head as if he believes that.

You chuckle, shaking your head at him. “No.”

“Yes, you are. You’re sophisticated and elegant.”

“Well, this—” you point between your bodies, “– is not very sophisticated and elegant of me.”

“Touché.” Jungkook laughs.

“But will you be my downtown man?” You say, not really thinking too much about it but then you suddenly realize what you just said and you’re about to add something to it – like putting a disclaimer that it was just a joke.

But then Jungkook leans closer, ducks down to level with your ear. “I can be if you want me to.”

The song ends and you barely had time to process what just happened before the soft piano progression of Carole King’s Will You Love Me Tomorrow begins to play.

You hear the collective “Aww”s from the audience and you watch as everybody suddenly pairs up with someone else. As the first lyric of the song is sung, you can feel the upbeat energy from earlier dropping to a calmer atmosphere. Romantic, you’d say it is.

When you look at Jungkook again, he has a small smile on his face. It’s as gentle as the piano behind the song.

“Can I?” He says.

You nibble on your bottom lip. “You want to?”

Jungkook only nods, still smiling.

“Only if you want to as well.”

You look around again. It’s not hard to spot Taehyung from afar on the dancefloor as well, with a gorgeous Hyerin in his arms. He doesn’t seem to notice you looking, though, but you watch the way he ducks down to whisper something in her ear, prompting a laugh from her.

Putting your gaze back to Jungkook, you blink as you say, “It’s… okay, I guess.”

“Okay?” Jungkook clarifies. You nod your head and he smiles that dashing smile again before he steps closer to you.

Slowly, he puts a hand around your waist. And you know he did it awhile ago, but the contact ended so briefly that you didn’t really have the chance to… somehow… savor it, maybe? But right now, as you fumble with your own hand, deciding whether or not you should put a hand on his waist as well, the proximity makes your breath hitch.

Your heart beats abnormally fast against your ribcage, and usually, it’s not hard to stare Jungkook in the face – but you find it a difficult task to do nowadays.

Jungkook, unsuspecting of your inner dilemma, only seems to notice your confusion with your hand placement, chuckling as he guides your wrist to his shoulder. He raises his other arm with yours and interlocks your fingers with his mid-air.

“There,” Jungkook says once you’re in the right position. “Now we look like professional dancers.”

You wince. “What’s the next step?”

“You’re taking this very seriously,” Jungkook snorts as he begins to move his feet.

You try to match his pace, and that distracts you from the fact that you're so close you can smell his cologne very well.

“Where did you learn this?” You ask instead, quite amazed at how Jungkook is approaching this. It’s not like you’ve never slow danced in your life – but you weren’t kidding when you said you have two left feet.

“Wikihow.”

“Wow.”

“They can be super reliable at times,” Jungkook chuckles as he continues to swing you both gently. “Stop looking down.”

You groan. “Ugh, no. I’m trying very hard not to not step on you.”

“So what if you step on me? Just relax.”

Jutting your bottom lip out, you look up at him. “My heels are Louboutin.”

“Even better.”

“Stop.” You break away from his hold with your other hand to jab at his chest lightly. Jungkook lets out an “Owe!” but you know it didn’t actually hurt when he just grins down at you, placing his hand on your waist instead so now he’s just… simply holding you.

You ignore the weird feeling in your chest at the action, choosing to keep your hand on his chest.

“You wanna know something?” You whisper. Jungkook hums. “I didn’t go to prom in highschool.”

“What? Why?” Jungkook genuinely seems surprised to hear that.

You smile sadly, looking back at the memory bitterly. “Changsub and I were fighting around that time because I saw him at the mall with some girl the previous week. I was so angry that I didn’t care about what I’d be missing out on. My mom tried really hard to get me to attend, but I was very stubborn. Now I still regret not going to prom. My dress was really pretty back then too but I didn't even get to wear it.”

“Damn,” Jungkook utters. “He really was such a dick to you, huh?”

“Yeah. But it was still on me, though… I can’t believe I let a boy make me miss out on prom night.” You pout.

Jungkook’s quiet for a while before he abruptly stops his swaying. You look at him in confusion as he lets go of your waist.

“Well, I don’t have a corsage… but this can maybe do?” He fumbles with his chest first before he takes out the silk lavender handkerchief from his suit’s pocket that matches his tie and the lily on his chest. He looks at you for a while before he takes your wrist in his hand. Your brows knit together as he ties the fabric around your wrist, making sure to finish it up with a ribbon – an attempt at a ribbon, that is.

You chuckle. “What’s this?”

Jungkook grins. “You wanna know something too? I didn’t have a date on prom night – was too scared to ask anybody out. I went home after the first hour. Wasn’t really a fond memory. So, prom night definitely sucked for me… what I’m saying is that, it’s not really all that.”

You duck your head down to laugh, partly to hide the flutter in your heart at his words.

“So, like, is this our – what – our upgraded prom night?”

Jungkook nods proudly. He takes both your hands as you laugh, wrapping them around his neck, taking you by the waist again.

This time, you don’t feel like your breath is being taken away.

You feel… serene. The beating of your heart is back to normal. You realize, there’s a sense of comfort that comes from being close to him like this – talking and laughing like good old times.

You miss him. You miss him so much and you can’t believe you ever considered accepting a life without him in it.

“The dress looks good on you, by the way,” Jungkook comments, and it sounds so sincere that you can’t help but smile. As if that wasn’t enough to melt your heart, he adds, “And you look really beautiful.”

“T-thanks,” you stammer, taken aback at the almost intimate way he looks right into your eyes as he said that. You tighten your hold around his neck. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

“Thank you.”

You both chuckle, though there was nothing really funny said in particular.

Carole King’s gentle voice soothes you as Jungkook takes the lead of the dance. You’re not even doing anything other than just going with the flow, letting him take you wherever. There’s a moment when you were sure you stepped on his shoe, but Jungkook’s quick to dismiss you with a hush and saying it was nothing.

Tonight with words unspoken,

You say that I’m the only one

But will my heart be broken,

When the night meets the morning sun

You scoff as you finally hear the lyrics.

That may have taken a hit on you.

“This is so stupid.” You say.

Jungkook’s quick to react.

“Rude. I’m literally giving you a prom night from scratch.”

You look at him and you feel bad because he genuinely seems offended at your supposedly throw-away comment.

Shaking your head, you tap his chest lightly. “No, no. I mean– the lyrics. The song.”

Jungkook arches a brow. “I have a video of you crying over this song in your car when it came up on your playlist.”

“I didn’t cry over this song.” You roll your eyes.

“Not as much as you did over Silver Springs, anyway.”

“Oh my god, why do you know so much, Jesus,” you hiss, embarrassed at being confronted by your dramatic antics. “I just meant, why are they playing such a sad song at a wedding? Who approved this?”

“Eh,” Jungkook shrugs. “Maybe Nayeon’s a Carole King fan.”

“Is she?” you ask, genuinely curious. If she is, she never told anybody.

“Maybe…?”

You can’t help but laugh because of how the conversation progressed. Jungkook laughs as well, and he takes the jab you send to his chest with a light hand. They’re really hard, you think, and you don’t know what comes over you as you lean your head down and let your body fall towards him, laying your cheek on the lapel of his suit. It’s warm.

You feel Jungkook stilling in his position at your sudden action, but soon enough, he does nothing to pry you off like you feared for a moment he would, tightening his arms around your waist and swinging you both in that kind of laxed way.

Shutting your eyes close, you let the soft melody of the song ease your nerves, basking in Jungkook’s presence and his familiar scent.

You stay like that for a while, and just when the song is coming to an end, you feel Jungkook’s breathe in your ears, his lips almost brushing to the tips of your ears when he says, “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything back then, but I really miss you too.”

You drank more champagne than you anticipated and it’s why you wobble your way into the bathroom to do some half-ass retouch. Just as when you were putting away your make-up, Nayeon comes out from one of the cubicles.

“Hey, you gorgeous, gorgeous girl,” She says with a huge smile, now changed into a much simpler dress, in contrast to her voluminous one earlier.

You mirror her grin, opening your arms wide to engulf her in a hug. “Hi to you too. Congrats again on the wedding. I’m so incredibly happy for you. You and Minhyuk are perfect.”

When Nayeon breaks apart from your hug, she looks at you closely. “I saw you with Jungkook earlier. Lots of people saw you two earlier.”

“What?”

“I mean… slow dancing to Will You Love Me Tomorrow in a weirdly intimate way was kind of insane, if you ask me.”

“Oh, uhm…” you feel blood rushing to your cheeks as you grow embarrassed at the thought of people catching you in that position. You remember after the song ended, you made up some excuse about going to the bathroom to pee and you did – but you pointedly tried to stay out of Jungkook’s sight ever since.

One step forward, three steps back.

“How are you two by the way?”

“We’re fine.” You say, giving her a reassuring smile.

Nayeon stares at you for a moment. Then, she sighs. “You’re not, are you?”

“No, we really are. We’re– we’re talking, right?” You point out.

“But… he’s moving out of your place.”

“Well, he needs a change of scenery. He’s been there for four years so he must be tired living there.”

Nayeon stares at you again and when you look at her face, your heart twinges as you see the disappointment written all over her features.

“I don’t understand you both, really. You have this… this beautiful thing going on and you’re choosing to ignore that? It’s obvious that you feel something for him, __. Just be honest with him and see where it goes. I know you two are pretending that everything’s fine but you’re both hurting each other and you’re acting like it’s nothing – it’s all just unnecessary angst at this point. What are you two doing?” Nayeon asks.

“I…”

“Come on, __. Do you really want to let each other go? Do you really want to drift apart? Because it’s been almost a month of pussyfooting. And I don’t know if you’re just expecting that your luck is not gonna run out, but it is going to. And I know you’re going to regret it.”

You stare at Nayeon while listening to her words. You don’t expect the sharp edges to her voice. You’ve always thought that if someone was going to call you out on your bullshit – it was going to be Doyeon. She’s the bluntest in the group and would not hesitate to tell someone if they’re being a bitch or not – so you don’t expect Nayeon to be like this at all because she’s always been a soft-spoken sweetheart.

It's not like Doyeon hasn’t been harsh, either, though. You had a drink with her and Taehyung a month ago and let’s just say she kind of ranted about you feeling like you’re in a romcom or something.

She shuts her eyes close, and you can just feel her frustration emanating. “I’m sorry – I know I’m being harsh right now. But I just can’t bear seeing you two like this. I just got married today and I feel like I’m learning and realizing so much right now and one of those is that I’m extremely lucky to have found someone I’m so sure of, and while Minhyuk was saying his vows I looked back at my past relationships and just thought that… that I’m so glad I was finally at that point and… and right now I can’t stop thinking about you two,” Nayeon sighs. “You two love each other so much. Everybody can see it. Why are you both running away from each other? What gives?”

You look away.

You both do love each other. They are right.

And while you can’t exactly say if what you feel for Jungkook right now bounds in being in love – there’s quite literally only one thing in the world that you’re certain of, and it’s that he’s the most important person to you – the only one you can think of spending a lifetime with and not get sick of it.

And that was something.

But…

“Because it’s scary.” You say, finally.

“What’s scary?”

You inhale a sharo breath.

“For eight years I’ve always thought that we were only platonic. But somewhere in my head I always thought that he was my soulmate, you know? I thought about us ending up together and I remember liking that thought. But years went by, and nothing ever happened and I swear I was happy with Eunwoo but you know what I’m ashamed of all this time that I never told anybody?” Your vision of Nayeon gets blurry as you begin tearing up. “I think… I have been in denial for so long. I think… I think I secretly looked for a part of Jungkook in Eunwoo and I think Eunwoo knew that. I think everybody who I’ve ever been with knew that except for myself. Because I was in denial. Even right now, I’m still in denial. You don’t know how – you don’t know how strange it is to suddenly wake up and realize that you don’t see your friend as a mere friend anymore. You don’t know how hard it is to overthink things – like what if it doesn’t work out and everything falls apart? Our friendship is so important to me, I hold it in the highest regard, and I don’t want anything to ever go against it. But now I’m doing that myself and I just… I hate it. But I don’t know what to do. Jungkook’s moving out just like it seems like he’s moving on and I’m scared that I’m too late to do anything.”

Your speech leaves Nayeon’s mouth agape, clearly not expecting your outburst. But she recovers quickly. She steps closer in front of you, and in a second, engulfs you in a hug.

“I’m sorry,” you sniff, making sure to not let your tears fall down her dress. “I think I’ve been keeping that for a long time.”

“It’s okay… I’m glad you said that.”

“Yeah… I think I’m glad too,” you both chuckle.

“__?”

You hum.

“Just talk to Jungkook. If you’re worried about him moving out, he’s not. I can tell you that much.”

You break the hug and look at Nayeon. “Nayeon, he literally has everything packed. I think he’s leaving early in the morning tomorrow.”

Nayeon fixes a strand of stray hairs from your hair framing your face. “Hm. He has?” You nod. “Well, as I said, he’s not leaving. Trust me. But you have to tell him everything that you told me just now. Be honest, __. It feels scary right now but, try to take a leap of faith, okay? This is not some toxic positivity shit or anything like that, but just be honest, alright?”

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you look at her hesitantly. “Are you… are you sure?”

Nayeon nods, and she looks so sure of herself that it may have fired up a little bit of hope in you.

The party is still ongoing, but you decide that it’s time for you to clock out. After you bid your goodbyes to Nayeon and her now husband, to Doyeon and to Taehyung, you head out of the venue to try and book a taxi. You couldn’t find Jungkook earlier at the party, so you decided to send him a text that says you were going home.

“Need a ride?”

The ever-familiar voice expectedly appears to be Jungkook when you look at him.

“Hey,” you greet. “No. I was just about to book an Uber.”

Jungkook’s brows furrow. You think he looks handsome under the moonlight. “We can ride together in my car. I’m going home as well.”

“N-no, no, ‘s really fine,” you wave your hand, emphasizing your point.

Jungkook grows more confused. Then: “Are you drunk?”

You wince, hating that he instantly knows right away.

“Sorta, kinda…”

“And you want to Uber?” You pout. You hear him scoff. “There’s no way I’m leaving you alone in this state. Okay, let’s get you to my car.”

“I’m fine, really,” you say but it sounds whiny even to your ears.

“You can be stubborn all you want. But in the passenger’s seat.” Jungkook gives you a sharp stare, but his hold on your wrist is gentle as he guides you to the parking lot.

He wears the seatbelt around your waist and lets you settle on your seat, rounding the car to get behind the wheel right after. You look away. You thought he'd be more... not nice to you since you just left him earlier with a poor excuse.

You feel guilty. So guilty. Jungkook is so... he makes you feel so loved but you're just... so confused. You're so scared it doesn't even make sense.

When he starts the engine, he asks, “Why did you drink so much?”

It's easy to ignore the heavy thoughts in your head when you're half-asleep at this point.

“I dunno. The champagne was so good… I bet it was probably expensive. I can’t have that much free stuff until –” you stop, as if remembering something, sitting upright. “When is Taehyung’s wedding?”

“He doesn’t have a wedding, ba—__. He hasn’t proposed to Hyerin yet.”

You slump in your chair hearing that.

“Why? They’re so perfect together… they should marry…” You say before dropping back down to your seat again. The AC in Jungkook’s car whirrs softly in your ear, and when you look to the side, you find yourself staring at his side profile.

He’s taken off his white coat, now left with a white shirt and his purple tie. He’s pushed the sleeves up to his forearms, showing the veins all over them.

“Jungkook.” you call him.

“What is it?” He says, momentarily looking at you before focusing back on the road.

“Can I…” you look at his hand. You sniff. “Can I hold your hand?”

Well, he does not expect that at all. But he smiles anyway, taking off one hand on the wheel and reaching for your own hand over the center console. You watch the way his huge palm dwarfs your own, and you almost sigh in relief when he laces his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand as he rests it over his thigh.

The last thing you hear is Jungkook’s soft chuckle before you completely drift off to sleep.

When you awake, you’re in your room. Seconds after regaining consciousness, you notice the banging in your head – and when you blearily open your eyes, reaching around for your phone, you don’t find it.

Groaning, you stand up from your bed, realizing you’re now in a shirt and some pajamas. But weirdly enough, you seem to still have your bra on.

You peek through the inside of your shirt and alas, the white lace of your bra from last night’s event welcomes you, and when you stretch the waistband of your shorts to check on your panties, you still adorn the pair of white thong, which means only one thing.

You haven’t changed completely out of the garments you’ve worn to Nayeon’s wedding and you wonder how it all happened. When you look to the side, your clutch is placed on the nightstand and so you grab it, relieved to find your phone there.

Shockingly, you read it’s only over 2 am.

With furrowed brows, you go over to the mirror to check your ensemble. Your face isn’t and doesn't feel as heavy with make-up as it was back at the venue, and you’re definitely dressed down now.

You remember passing out in Jungkook’s car after he insisted that you ride with him… and everything had been a blur since then.

Suddenly, an idea goes into your head.

Did Jungkook… change your clothes and remove your make-up? That’s the only plausible thing that you can consider because you honestly don’t remember ever dressing yourself or going to the bathroom to remove your make-up. And if you did change out of the gown, you would've opted out of your underwear as well.

Maybe Jungkook did all that.

And the thought makes you smile. But it drops just as quickly.

You head towards your door and go straight knocking on Jungkook’s bedroom.

You don’t expect him to be awake at this point, but when you hear steps coming your way and the doorknob clicking, you stare at Jungkook wide-eyed when he welcomes you with his presence behind the door.

“Hey,” He greets, predictably surprised to see you. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah…” your eyes don’t mean to subtly roam his room. Then that’s when you catch it. The bags lying around his bedroom floor and the neatly piled boxes to the side. Your eyebrows meet each other. “You’re packing?”

Jungkook nods. “I’m leaving tomorrow, I told you that, didn’t I?”

“Y-you did, yeah.” You stammer, blinking at him. You suddenly feel like throwing up. “Well, I just came to thank you for…” you trail off, gesturing to your clothes.

Seemingly getting what you mean, Jungkook’s lips curl up into a coy smile. “I hope you don’t mind. I tried to wake you up, but you were complaining about your dress when you were sleeping…”

“Yeah… I’m glad you took it off.” You wince. “That sounds wrong. Anyway, the make-up, too. I have to ask, did I throw up on you?”

Jungkook laughs, incredulous. “No, no, you didn’t. Are you seriously worried about that?”

“I just feel bad.” You give him a tight-lipped smile.

“It’s okay. You should sleep now, it’s late. Do you have a shift tomorrow– or later, actually.”

“Yeah, I do. But it’s the evening shift. So. You?”

“I have the morning until three in the afternoon.”

Nodding, you ask, “Are you leaving at three then? I mean, to your new place?”

“Yeah. Will just pass by here to get some of my stuff.”

You try to look for something on his face. But Jungkook looks casual at best. Now you remember what Nayeon told you. Was she lying when she said you’re going to convince Jungkook not to move out? Because from the looks of it, Jungkook doesn’t seem like anything would budge him from leaving tomorrow. He seems so set on a mission, and you can’t lie and say that it doesn’t break your heart.

You find yourself thinking about the events at the reception party. How he threw you a quick prom, told you you were beautiful… how he said he missed you.

Was that all a lie? Just something he said to avoid some sort of dead air?

Because if he truly misses you, then why would he leave?

You find yourself getting annoyed.

“I’ll be back to my room.” You say to get out of the situation. You notice Jungkook getting taken aback by the change of your tone, even more so when you turn on your heels quickly to take the two strides it takes you to your own bedroom.

In there, you throw yourself on the mattress, the impact affecting you a little bit. You must still be drunk because you feel your vision getting blurry a bit but as you quickly shut and open your eyes, everything goes back to normal.

You sigh.

Well, maybe you’re actually meant to be alone and it’s true that you’re not meant for any romantic relationships. You’ll die alone and you’ll just have to deal with the heartbreaks you went through your whole life.

A stray tear escapes your eye, and you quickly raise the back of your hand to wipe at it. You glare at the wall dividing your and Jungkook’s rooms, finding it annoying that you’re not really mad at him. It’d be so easy if you were mad at him… but you have no reason to.

But why is he so stubborn? Why isn’t he saying anything? Can he just… can it just be him who takes the leap of faith, so you won’t have to? You know that’s unfair, though. It’s juvenile.

In a burst of courage, you take one pillow from your bed and stomp your way out of your bedroom, finding yourself in front of Jungkook’s room again and knocking.

He opens it, rightfully surprised to see you again. “H-hey, __, I thought—”

“Can I sleep here?”

You can see the way his face contorts into confusion. “What?”

“Can I sleep in your room?” You reiterate, but you’re already forcing your way in. You throw your pillow on his own heap of dark ones, frowning when you see the bags on the floor. “Are you just going to pack forever? You’ve been packing since yesterday.”

Your clipped tone throws Jungkook off a little bit, but he doesn’t point that out, though, when he speaks. “No. I’m actually done now.”

“Okay? Well, then, let’s sleep.” You say, staring at him. He looks stoned in his position from the edge of the bed, so utterly confused.

“Are you… still drunk?”

“What? No.”

“O… kay?” Jungkook looks extra cautious when he seats himself on the mattress by your feet. “Are you sure?”

“About what?”

“I don’t know. About not being drunk and… sleeping here.”

“Yeah,” you answer, pointing out the obvious. “Why are you acting like we haven’t had sleepovers before? You used to sleep in my room when there was a spider in your closet.”

Jungkook makes a face. “It was a huge spider.”

You roll your eyes, going into a lying position, making sure to leave some space for him on the side. “Jungkook.”

“Okay, I’m going. So demanding.”

He playfully clicks his tongue as he lays on the bed as well, sliding his body across the mattress. He doesn’t expect the way you take his arm to spread it on your side of the bed, and you don’t let him say another word when you lay your head on it, keeping your hands close to your chest as you snuggle beside him.

You could feel there was a moment there that Jungkook stiffened for a bit, but he relaxes just as quickly, feeling him caress your head tentatively as if feeling you out before he goes for it completely.

“This is what you’re gonna be missing out on when you move out.” you mumble.

You’re grateful when he only says: “Hm?”

“Nothing.” You open your eyes and because of the close proximity, your eyes are at the level of the side view of his chest, and you see the way his thin white shirt clings to his body, rising up and down with his breathing. “I saw your keys earlier. I’m glad you like the Claddagh.”

Jungkook laughs. “The Claddagh, huh? I knew you knew what that keychain meant,” You frown when you realize you were supposed to pretend you didn’t know that. Oh, well, he figured you out right away, anyway. “I really like it, by the way. It was very thoughtful,” Jungkook says. You can’t see him in your position, but you just know he has a smile on his face. He sounds like it.

“Thank you. I thought about gifting you a watch… but watches are expensive, so…” You decide to joke, and Jungkook laughs which makes you smile.

“I would choose the Claddagh any day. I just… I really like it. I interpreted it as a deep sense of belonging and shared history, and I’ve known you for eight years, so that seems very fitting. I’m glad you chose to give me that.”

It was also a reminder of your relationship. Your love for each other. The loyalty that lies in its foundation, and how you’ve managed to build that over the years. Jungkook’s ultimately your soulmate – that you’re sure of – even though that’s a bit of a cliche and you don’t exactly believe in it entirely. A bit of a conflict, really, since you’re a hopeless romantic.

But you’ve long known that you and Jungkook are more than just friends. You trust and respect each other beyond words – and it’s more than what you could say about your previous romantic partners. Sure, there was that sense of admiration for one another with your ex-boyfriends, but Jungkook is different. He’s always been different.

You’ve known that all along – but it’s only now that you decided to read between the lines.

And you want to tell him that. So badly. But you choose to let the gentle tips of his fingers lull you to that comfortable annexe of warmth, easing you from overwhelming thoughts.

Has Jungkook always felt like the embodiment of comfort for you? Has he always felt like everything good you can imagine having in your life?

Then, you feel him lean down to the top of your head. “You smell so nice. You aren’t my soulmate after all.”

That makes you violently crane your neck up to look at him. “What?”

“There was this article that Tae sent to me. It was from Cosmo, I think. It says you’re not supposed to be able to smell your soulmate.” He says, looking so serious that you can’t figure if he’s bullshitting you.

You lean on your elbow so you can look down properly at him, saying, “That’s not even plausible. Since when was Cosmo reliable to you? That’s ridiculous. We literally have four hundred different types of olfactory receptors which help us perceive various smells – I mean, unless you’ve damaged them somehow, or there’s a disruption in your signal transduction, or you’re anosmic – which I know you’re not – then I don’t think that’s true.”

Jungkook laughs and you can’t help but frown.

“It made sense, okay? If you ignore the science stuff.”

“You’re a doctor.” You quickly counter.

He rolls his eyes. “I mean, for the record, I believe in the existence of extraterrestrial life, so that’s that.”

“Ugh,” you flop down on the bed again, falling back on Jungkook’s body. He scoots closer to hold you close against him, which you welcome casually. You don’t even know how you got this comfortable, but you’re glad either way. He feels so big and warm. “Are you going to show me that Youtube video of top ten UFO sightings around the world again?”

“You don’t think that Nebraska one looked very real?” Jungkook says with disbelief.

“No,” you turn to Jungkook only to find him already looking at you. “They were college boys, Jungkook. They probably just turned nineteen or something. Have you seen their eyes in the video? It was pixelated as hell, but if I were that high—”

Jungkook suddenly snorts, effectively cutting you off. “Ohh, if you were that high?”

You jab at his chest which only makes him laugh louder.

“I tried my first weed with you.” You pout.

Jungkook catches the stray hair that falls from behind your ear and hides it back there again as he says, “You coughed nonstop and had a sore-throat the next day. You have baby lungs.”

You roll your eyes and go back to lying on his arm. “Whatever. All of that still doesn’t justify that we’re not soulmates.”

“The concept of soulmates doesn’t even have a scientific explanation.” Jungkook chuckles.

“No…? But there's psychological research about it; the attachment theory, look it up.”

“There’s also cognitive dissonance.” Jungkook pitches in.

“That’s so mean!” You gasp, but you know Jungkook’s only teasing when you see that he’s got that huge stupid grin on his face.

He apologizes in between his laughter, squeezing your waist a bit before he says, “Okay, okay. But what if you’re my soulmate, but I’m not yours?”

“That’s not how soulmate-ism works. Isn’t it nice to think that there’s like a system to it? Like if you’re my soulmate, then that would automatically make me your soulmate. It doesn’t make sense otherwise.” Your eyebrows knit together as you explain.

“I guess you’re right…” Then you hear him letting out a loud sigh. “For what it's worth, I think I’d be really happy if I was your soulmate.”

You smile against his pec after he says the words.

You like Jeon Jungkook. You like him so much it’s starting to feel unbearable.

There’s silence that hangs in the air for some time before you look up at Jungkook alarmingly. “Kook.” He doesn’t say anything. You lean on your elbow again to peer down at him, only to see that he’s now closed his eyes. “Jungkook.”

Finally, he stirs. But his eyes are still closed. “Hm?”

“Don’t sleep yet.”

“Uh-huh.” He gives your waist a brief squeeze again.

“I’m watching you.”

He chuckles. “What is it?”

“Let’s talk more.”

“How are you still not sleepy?”

“Because…” you drop your head down to his chest this time. “I want to know if you could ever —” you shrug, staring at his ceiling. “—cannibalize someone.”

“I like this. Conversation’s getting raunchy,” You hear him snorting through his breath. “Is this your pillowtalk?”

“Yes.”

“In that case, that’s an interesting question. I have never really thought about that.”

“Really? Never?”

“I’ve never been in any situation where I had to think about that, thank god.”

You laugh together. “Okay, but if you really had to, would you?”

“I don’t know… I’m a huge germaphobe, you know that. But I guess humans inherently have indomitable spirits and that conditions us to do whatever it takes to ensure our survival under extreme conditions. I don’t think I’m beyond that.”

You nod against his chest. Mindlessly, you start tracing random lines over his shirt, and you wait for Jungkook to pry your hand off or say something to stop you or ask you what you’re doing, but he doesn’t really say anything.

“It’s fascinating, right? The way we can just alter our brains and mindsets when we’re put under certain conditions. It’s amazing and weird at the same time how we work psychologically.”

“Exactly.” You feel Jungkook nodding.

“This is– of course this is not an extreme condition where I have to cannibalize someone,” you chuckle, which earns the same thing from Jungkook. You continue, “but you know when you’re experiencing a heartbreak and you think it’s the end of the world but then you wake up one day and suddenly you’re fine?

When Jungkook turns quiet, you know you’ve touched on a subject that feels personal.

You sigh. “I broke up with Mingyu awhile ago.”

“Oh.”

You hum. “Yeah… like a month ago?”

“Ah. I had a hunch.”

“But you didn’t ask,” you smile. “Well, anyway I just want you to know.”

Silence.

Then, “Do you feel… do you feel sad about it?”

“That’s what’s weird,” you say. “Because I don’t necessarily feel sad about the break-up, or the relationship. But it’s more like – the thought of breaking up with somebody again.” You chuckle, but there’s no humor to it. “I feel like you can only take so many break-ups in your life before you completely give up on love, you know? And it’s like… I don’t even get it… I mean, I’m decent, aren’t I? I can hold up a conversation, I make sense, I have a good job, and I don’t look bad – although, maybe that’s what’s wrong all along?” You swallow the lump in your throat. “Am I ugly?”

“Hey,” Jungkook calls, and you feel him rising from his lying position just as you feel tears slowly streaming down your face.

You scold yourself for it – because what the hell even is this about? Just earlier you were talking about cannibalism and now you’re tearing up. Your emotions are all over the place, and it doesn’t help that Jungkook’s quick to dote on you, guiding your back as you both sit on the bed instead.

You inhale a sharp breath. “Look at me, I’m a mess,” you look at him through blurry eyes, hoping to look apologetic at the very least for barging in his room at fuckass o’clock and disturbing his packing and not noticing that he’s been in love with you for the past eight years. God, you want to say sorry for a lot of things. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying, it’s not that deep.”

“If it’s bothering you then it’s a big deal. And I’m looking right at you,” Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulders as he looks you in the eyes. “I’m looking at you and you’re beautiful, you’re intelligent, and you’re the funniest person on Earth I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I’m so glad I met you.”

“Well… do you still feel that way when I only ever seem to come to you when I wanna vent or cry?” You ask, attempting to joke, but your voice breaks at the end.

It cracks a smile on Jungkook’s face though. “That’s not true at all. You also come to annoy me.”

Your laughter turns into a sob and that’s when Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you close to his side, letting your head fall to his bicep and resting his chin on top of yours. It’s a barely-there gesture, but you’re pretty sure you feel him kiss the crown of your head.

“I know… I know we still have a lot to talk about, __. That we’re glossing over the important things. But I want to say sorry. I never said sorry about what happened back at the resort. For Mingyu. For doing what we did. I never said sorry about bombarding you with all those things and for taking so long to talk to you just because I was scared. But right now, I’m saying sorry. I have been completely unfair to you all this time.”

You quickly get out of his hold to look up at him. “No, you—”

“Just…” Jungkook cuts you off. “Just let me, okay? I know you’re gonna say none if it was my fault but you’re right about what you said. You’re right about doubting my feelings for you.”

“Jungkook…”

He nods. “I was in denial for the most part about my feelings for you. Ever since that thing happened with Jiyeon in college, I found it hard to trust somebody again. I slept around in my last year of college because it made me feel good about myself, made me think I was desirable and that someone cheating on me doesn’t mean shit when I had all those women who willingly slept with me. I was like that during my first year in med school, too. Couldn't really get serious with somebody because – because what if they do the same thing again?” Jungkook smiles bitterly. “And then… I met you. It started out as a crush and I was so sure it wasn’t going to be more than that, but then, we were in almost the same classes and we became friends,” Jungkook looks at you fondly and you almost melt in his arms. “And then I found myself liking you, and then I fell hard – really fucking hard,” he chuckles to himself. “It was during spring break of second year when I realized I was fucked and that I was in love with my best friend.”

“S-spring break?” You whisper, not sure what he meant.

“You don’t remember it?” Jungkook asks. He looks over your face and suddenly he’s caressing your cheek with his fingers. He swipes his thumb over it, wiping a stray tear away. He smiles before he says, “I caught the flu that time. I called you, but you were over at your parents. Then the next day I woke up and you were at my place telling me to take care of my health because how can I study medicine when my immune system is shit.”

“Oh, that…” you trail off. Suddenly, the fragments of that time become clear to you. The flu wasn’t that bad, only took him three days to fully recover.

“Yeah. But then that was also the time when you told me Eunwoo asked you to be his girlfriend and that you said yes.”

You inhale a shaky breath.

“I– I tried to forget about my feelings, because I didn’t want to harbor all those feelings for you when you already had a boyfriend. I went to all those dates in the hopes that I could feel something from someone. I tried to date Sora. It was good. It was a good partnership. But then… Eunwoo proposed, and I don’t know – I guess I deluded myself so bad that I have fully moved on from you since then – but then I was faced with the reality that you were going to spend your life with somebody else and I didn’t know how to deal with it. I was so bad at handling my emotions. So stupid. Sora broke up with me because she figured I love you.”

You stare at him with your mouth agape. You would've never guessed why they broke up. You always thought they were so perfect for each other…

“And yeah, the break-up with Eunwoo happened and it took you two years to heal. I didn’t want to make a move because I simply didn’t want to be that kind of guy who takes advantage of a woman’s vulnerability after a break-up, you know? And we moved in together two years ago and…” You wait as he trails off. “I guess I just got comfortable with our set-up.”

“How do you mean?”

“It was like, everything I imagined us to be. Living together, sharing everything together. I thought no one could take that away from me, even if I didn’t ask you out. I’m not telling you to believe it, but I wasn’t with a lot of women for the past two years… yeah, sure, I dated them very briefly, but it was out of genuine attempt to find somebody for myself because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship by confessing. Being your best friend was and still is more important to me than being your boyfriend. I couldn’t care less how I can have you; I want you in any way – and if that meant being your platonic friend the rest of our time, then I was that. I am that. Even now.”

You can’t find your words. You’ve imagined your talk countless times in your head, but they all fell short to give you a taste of what the real thing would be like.

“So… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for keeping my feelings for nearly eight years. I’m sorry I kept something important to you about Mingyu. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. Just… I apologize. I feel like I broke your trust.”

It’s quiet for a while before you break the silence.

“Jungkook,” You call him. He meets your gaze. It’s soft and it’s sweet and you realize he’s always looked at you like that. How could you have not noticed? “You’re very important to me.”

“I’m glad.” He smiles. A small one that makes him look all boyish. The urge to keep him in your pocket even though he’s much bigger than you becomes huge.

“And I want you in any way, too.” You say, staring intently at him.

You watch as Jungkook stares back at you. There’s an agonizing stretch of seconds when you see his eyes darting down from your eyes to your lips, and you don’t mean to bite the bottom one, suddenly feeling the thick tension rising in the air.

“Can I hug you?” You swallow the lump in your throat.

“I would really love that.”

You don’t know how it happens, but the last thing you see is Jungkook’s wall clock pointing to 3:15 am before you let your eyes rest.

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this chapter is not over yet! tumblr has a 1k paragraph/block limit in a single post and so i can't put the whole thing in this. please look thru the reblogs to read the last scene of the chapter and the EPILOGUE or click on this [ link ]

#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #bts smut #bts fluff #jeon jungkook x reader #fic: tlp #awrkive

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jeonsweetpea · 1 year ago

Text

Will It Fit?

Roommate!AU | Roommate!Jungkook x Reader

genre: fluff, smut, comedy, lil angst, slight idiots to lovers

rating: explicit

description: So what if your roommate caught you masturbating? At least he forgot about it the next day. But he can’t exactly forget the big dildo you left in your shared bathroom…

word count: 6.7k

warnings: size kink, JK has a big dick (no, really), slight pain kink, light choking, dirty talk, Dom!JK, flustered/shy JK at first, unprotected sex (this is fiction, we all wanna be raw-dogged by JK okay), lube, JK loves OC’s panties a LOT, fingering, mentions of masturbation, OC gets embarrassed at first but JK is sweet about it, oral sex (male & female receiving), cursing, Soft Dom!JK, JK is overly concerned with how big your dildo is, embarrassing moments from both parties, spanking, prone bone, creampie, confession scenes,

a/n: As soon as I saw JK’s OJO face from that GCF, it kicked me into gear to write this. I’ve had this idea for SO long, but never had the motivation to finish it. I was supposed to release it last winter, so hope you’re all excited for it! Asks and reblogs are much appreciated (I read them all!). Also, much love to @jkeuphoriadreamland for bouncing ideas around with me.

“[Y/N], I can hear you in there.”

The muffled, disgruntled voice came from the other side of your door. Your eyes fluttered open and your hand stilled in your panties, your heart rate spiking. Maybe if you didn’t move a muscle, he’d go away.

“I know you’re up,” he added. You rose up from your bed.

“Um… exactly what did you hear?” you squealed, face burning up at your terrible acting skills.

“Unlock this door.”

You didn't know what compelled you to saunter over and open the door a mere crack, but oh the sight before you was almost worth the humiliation. Jungkook was in nothing but gray sweats that sat dangerously low on his hips. He had a bad case of bedhead, but his locks looked so soft that you wanted nothing more than to grab onto them and make out with his beautiful lips, which were captivating you just as much as that intense gaze of his.

“Hey… you…” you said with a meek smile, which he did not return.

“It’s 2 AM in the morning. I have work at 5. As hot as you sound, we either do something together so we both get satisfied or you let me get my rest because I am incredibly frustrated right now.”

Your eyes widened at his curt response. You’ve never seen him so tense, his tongue prodding the inside of his cheek as his glare bore into you. He leaned against your door frame with one arm, leaning in close enough to make you break eye contact. He tapped on the wooden frame with his index finger, awaiting your response.

“Sorry…”

God, you sounded absolutely pathetic .

“Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?” Before you could respond, he let out a tsk sound and retreated back to his bedroom. You stood there in a trance until his door shut loudly, snapping you out of it. You wondered if he realized how much worse he left you than when he found you.

Fuck, was he always this hot when mad?

You went back to your room after closing the door. Climbing into bed, you got under the covers and laid flat on your back deep in thought. The only reason you were masturbating in the first place was because your room was freezing cold. You thought the heater was fixed, but your room was somehow still the coldest one in the apartment. You knew you’d never be able to go to sleep at this rate, so you decided to do something that would tire you out and hopefully lull you into the rest you craved.

It was supposed to be simple. You, your hand, your phone, and sweet, sweet release. Damn Jungkook for interrupting you. It’s bad enough his room was nice and toasty while you were suffering. Yeah, you heard his loudass snores. You assumed he was deep in the REM cycle so how the hell did he catch your moans? Ugh.

If he was so annoyed with you, then he should have warmed you up instead!

You shook your head and got under the covers, groaning at your lewd thoughts.

He’s my roommate. And he’s too good of a roommate for me to fuck things up.

“Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?”

Those words echoed in your mind. The way he changed his tone to a lower register with his Busan dialect slipping through was incredibly sexy. It was the perfect mix of frustration and anger and made your thighs rub together in want. Leaning over your nightstand, you opened the drawer and grabbed a velvet drawstring bag. Slipping off your pajama shorts, you pulled out your trusty dildo. Impatient, you closed your eyes and imagined Jungkook taking you right then and there. However, the moment you allowed the tip of the dildo to touch your entrance, all pleasure was lost. It was cold!

“Damn it…” you muttered. “I gotta warm it up. Ugh!”

You left your room in frustration and entered the bathroom, turning the sink on to the hottest setting and running it over your toy.

This might’ve been the most desperate masturbation session you’ve ever had, but you didn’t care. This was all Jungkook’s fault!

The next morning was Saturday. You were eating your breakfast on the kitchen island while mindlessly scrolling on your phone when Jungkook came out of his room. As soon as you two locked eyes, you almost choked on your food and had to chug some water to calm down. The man, confused, ruffled his hair and watched you through drowsy eyes.

“Are you okay?” he said, followed by a yawn.

You nodded as you beat your chest with your fist to get everything down. “Yeah… I just… didn’t expect you to be home. I thought you had work.”

“Oh,” He sounded more awake now. “I read my schedule wrong. Turns out I’m off every other Saturday now.”

“... Oh. Cool.”

He circled around the kitchen island to get to the fridge and you recalled last night’s events, mortified he had heard you. Should you apologize again? After all, you’re both two grown adults; there’s nothing to be ashamed about. If you didn’t say something now, that icky feeling would only fester inside you.

“Hey Jungkook.”

“Yeah?” he said from behind the fridge door.

“About yesterday… I hope you can forget all about it.”

As the refrigerator door shut, you were greeted by the sight of the most adorable man sipping a carton of banana milk. His eyes were wide and brimming with curiosity from your words.

“Did something happen yesterday? I was knocked out.”

You blinked at him twice. “Do you… not remember talking to me last night?”

“Hmm? I did? I was fast asleep, don’t remember a thing.” He took the seat next to you. “Why? What did we talk about?”

Pure relief washed over you like a tidal wave as you shook your head. “Oh, nothing much. My room’s a bit too cold. It was hard for me to sleep.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll talk to the landlord. Do you want to sleep with me?” You shot him an incredulous look and he began to stutter. “I-I mean! Sleep in my bed! Not with me in it. Unless you wanted to—ah—fuck me!

There. That’s the Jungkook you knew. He’s never crossed the line and flirted with you, so you didn’t either out of respect. But… It was too hard to resist teasing him. This was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

“Unless I wanted to… fuck you?” you repeated innocently. This was new territory for you—teasing him. His flustered reactions were so damn adorable though. The way his nose scrunched and his eyes darted around everywhere except for your face. If anyone was watching you, they’d swore you had hearts in your eyes.

He set his drink down and proceeded to cover his face with both hands, panicking at his poor choice of words. “That didn’t come out right. Oh god… this is embarrassing.”

You covered your mouth to stifle your giggles. “It’s okay. I don’t want to peg you—I mean, take your bed.”

Jungkook dropped his hands, speaking the next sentence in pouts. “Hey, I don’t want to be peg—not the point. No, seriously. My room’s really warm.”

“I mean… if you really want me in your room, all you have to do is ask, you know,” you remarked. Jungkook’s cheeks were flushed with a tinge of pink, adding an extra charming element to his already cute self. Were you being too bold?

It didn’t matter because seeing how his lips trembled and how he could barely hold himself together was fun to watch.

“I didn’t realize it was that easy…” he mumbled, more to himself than you. You tilted your head at him and he noticed how you crossed one arm over another “Not that I’m calling you easy!”

“Uh huh. I’m watching you, Jeon Jungkook. Hmph.”

“No, wait. I’m sorry.”

You placed your index finger on his lips to shush him, even going so far as to tap his lip piercing teasingly. “Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?”

You watched as his eyes widened once more and that caused you to realize what you were doing. My god. Using his own words against him was satisfying, but all this newfound confidence was going to get you in trouble. You cleared your throat and withdrew your hand, grabbing your breakfast plate and heading over to the sink before things could escalate.

“Uh… I’m gonna go to the gym. Run some errands or something,” Jungkook stammered as he got up, nearly toppling out of his stool. You bit your lip to hold in your laughter as he recomposed himself. Walking in the same direction, he flinched when you got near his proximity. “W-What are you doing?”

He’s so cute when nervous.

“Nothing. Grabbing my keys. I’m heading out too.”

“O-Okay.”

Your smile made his heart rate escalate. “Okay. I’ll see you later.”

You spent the day with your closest friends on a brunch date, followed by a trip to the mall, and then hot cocoa in the evening. It was much needed after the week you had and after bidding them farewell, you went back to your apartment. Upon entering, you took off your shoes and put them on the shoe rack.

“Jungkook? Are you home?” you called out.

“Yeah! I just finished showering!” he called back in the distance. You went further into the apartment and plopped down on the couch.

“Damn,” you muttered, rubbing your arms. “Wish I could have showered with him. It’s so cold outside…”

As if on cue, Jungkook called for you again. “[Y/N]? Could you come here?”

You took off your purse and slowly rose up from the couch, hesitant. This had to be a dream. Why would he need you to come to the bathroom? He must’ve forgotten a towel. Or a t-shirt. Or pants. The specifics didn’t really matter because your hormones were going berserk at the possibilities.

You walked through the narrow hallway and stood in front of the bathroom door, excited at the thought of teasing him again. “I’m here. What’s up? Did you forget your towel or something? Silly boy.”

The door swung open and the shit-eating grin you had on your face dropped to the floor in an instant.

“Why is there a dildo in the bathroom, silly girl?”

Shit. Quick, say something. Anything. Don’t just stand there like a gaping fish! Oh dear, how many seconds have passed? You must look like a total idiot.

Fuck! I forgot I left it here!!!

“Well…” you started to say, “I’m assuming it’s yours.”

Out of all the things your roommate could be calling you for, this was not on your radar. The awkwardness was more suffocating than the steam from his blazing hot shower minutes ago and you wished it lingered around long enough to make you disappear.

Jungkook made a puckered face at your accusation, picked up the object, and shook it side to side, the bendy silicone material flopping everywhere. His big doe eyes were the highlight of his classic OJO face, the blatant confusion so adorable if you weren’t absolutely mortified. For the second time this week.

God, and how could you even focus when he was dressed in nothing but a towel, his hair still slightly damp. The bulging muscles of his biceps were a feast for the eyes as well as his tattooed sleeve. You yearned for the day he’d use his arm as your necklace, but of course that shouldn’t be a priority at the moment. If anything, it was his fault you had to use a dildo anyway.

“[Y/N], you know damn well this isn’t mine.” He met your gaze and flashed you a soft smile, biting his lower lip. “I like mine bigger.”

You covered your face in shame, wishing the floor could open up and swallow you whole. “Good god, Jeon.”

“You still didn’t answer my question. Why is it in the bathroom?”

You gulped, finding enough strength to not die of embarrassment. “It’s getting colder outside and the heater doesn’t reach my room as well as it reaches yours. So…”

“Yeah…? But I’m not following.”

“The… thing in your hand—”

“Dildo?”

You visibly cringed. “Yes, okay, THAT. It got cold and I don’t like cold objects... Inside me. So I took it to the bathroom to run hot water on it to warm it up.”

“Before you use it?”

“No, to melt it. Yes, to use it!” you snapped, feeling the humiliation burning through your body. “I wasn’t aware you weren’t working today, remember? I clean it after each use so please just give it back!”

You ran over to yank it out of his hands, but he lifted it up high out of your reach. While cackling. That motherfucker. “Hey, maybe I want a turn.”

You had to bite back. “I knew you liked being pegged.”

“I do not!”

“Then give it back!”

“This thing is huge though. It fits?”

“I’m not having this conversation with you right now.” You jumped up but failed to reach it due to his quick reflexes.

“Doesn’t it hurt? Because if something this big went up my—”

“Jungkook!”

“I’m just saying!” he said with his arms up in the air like you were about to tase him. “I find it hard to believe, that’s all. It’s really big. Like damn.”

Without thinking, you ripped his towel off his waist and he gasped, scrambling to shield his privates while you seized the opportunity to get your toy back.

You stormed out of the bathroom and ran to your room, locking the door afterwards. Falling to your knees, the embarrassment caught up to you, causing you to hang your head low in shame. You could hear the soft shuffling sounds of his footsteps approaching your door, followed by a gentle knock.

“[Y/N]? Are you okay?” He pressed his ear against the door to hear small sniffles. “Shit. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make you upset. I was teasing, I thought you wanted to tease me back and—I guess I took it too far.”

“Go away, Jeon,” you said, throwing the dildo at the door. Jungkook nearly had a heart attack at the loud thump and jolted back, clutching his chest.

“Holy shit, that scared me,” he said, which earned a small chuckle from you despite the tears. “Hey… come on out. Please. I’m not judging you.”

“No. I’m humiliated. You heard me yesterday and now caught me today. I can’t face you ever again. It’s over!”

He placed a hand on your door, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “I didn’t even know we started, so how could we be over? You’re cute.”

That made you snap your head up. You quickly wiped away your tears and rose from the floor. “This isn’t fair… I’ve been embarrassed twice now.”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“You heard me masturbating yesterday!” you exclaimed, frustrated at his obliviousness. “You woke up and told me I had pretty lips or whatever and suggested we do something about it together!”

“I mean, you do have pretty lips. Yup. That sounds like me, yeah,” he said, nodding to himself. “But I really don’t remember. Come on out. I wanna see you.”

“No.”

“Would it help if I shared something embarrassing about me?”

You narrowed your eyes at the door, considering his offer. “... Go on…”

He sighed, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Well… you know how I’ve been doing your laundry for you?”

“Yeah…”

It was your most hated chore. Putting the clothes into the washer and dryer wasn’t your issue, but folding them was so tedious. So you and him made a deal. You were in charge of dishes and he would do the laundry. However, the one thing you refused to let Jungkook wash for you were your bras and panties. Those you handled yourself.

“You… left a pair of panties in my basket once by mistake.”

“I did?”

“Yeah. I washed them for you but um… before that, I might’ve… sort’ve… jerked off with them.”

Your doorknob jostled for a second as you unlocked it. Jungkook waited as the door swung open and was greeted by a displeased you, hands on your hips and all.

“What? They were really pretty…” he added. “They were pink and had lace—”

“You… PERVERT!” you shouted, hitting his chest repeatedly. Of course, you were aware your feeble punches did nothing to his insanely toned pecs. Jungkook stared at you fondly, catching the hint of a smile that threatened to spill from your lips.

“Oh, I’m a pervert? Says the girl who has an 8-inch dildo,” he countered, snatching both your wrists.

“At least I’m able to take 8-inches!” you retorted, laughing at the situation. He joined in your laughter and then said,

“Good! That means you’ll be able to handle me!”

Your brain fizzled out at this point as the laughter subsided. “... What?”

Jungkook’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he gulped. “... You heard me. Go ahead, take off my towel again. See for yourself.”

He guided your hands downward to the soft fabric, which was already on the verge of unraveling itself with his prior movements. You stared at his pelvic lines, excitement bubbling beneath the surface while you tried your best to maintain a calm expression.

“... Pervert,” you mumbled. Jungkook chuckled, taking one of your hands and placing it directly on his boner.

“Maybe. But only you can make me feel this way.”

You bit your lip, feeling the heat radiating from beneath the fabric and your curiosity peaked. Tucking a finger into the towel, you pulled it down and let it fall to the ground.

A loud squeal came from your lips as you covered your mouth. “Holy shit!”

Jungkook covered himself after seeing your reaction with both hands, embarrassment crawling up his spine. “Sorry, I’ll put it away.”

“No, no, no!” you said, putting your hands out in a stop motion. “Sorry, I just… you… you weren’t kidding.”

“Does it scare you?” His tone was sincere, his eyes genuinely showing concern. “Because… I don’t want to hurt you. And I know it can hurt. That’s why I was so curious about the dildo. Will it fit? Will I fit…?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how he phrased it, but quickly stopped when you noticed the fear in his eyes. Your thoughts wandered to if he had slept with someone prior and if it wasn’t a pleasant experience. Truth be told, you’ve never been with anyone as big as him so it’s all new for you.

“Well… if I’m prepared well enough, I can take it. The dildo fits but sometimes not all of it goes in. Um… man, this is embarrassing to talk about, ahhh. I feel like I keep making a fool of myself in front of you.”

Jungkook’s gaze softened at your vulnerability, taking your hand and placing it on his chest. His heart was beating just as rapidly as yours if not more. Then he put his other hand on the small of your back, pulling you close.

“That makes two of us. But you make me crazy.”

He was so close that your senses were intoxicated with the fresh scent of eucalyptus and cotton wafting off him. His eyes shifted to your lips for a split second before meeting your gaze once more.

“I really want to kiss these pretty lips of yours… If you’ll let me,” he said, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb and whispering the last part.

You begged him to kiss you already, so he leaned in and finally pressed his warm lips against yours as you closed your eyes. It started off as a gentle smooch, like a little tease to test the waters. When he pulled back, you leaned forward and chased his lips urgently. You felt him smiling into the kiss as he moved in tandem with you, deepening the kiss while switching positions to press you against a wall. One of his hands pinned your wrists above your head while his free hand slithered down the side of your body until it rested on your hip, giving you a firm squeeze.

“Jung—mmph—Jungkook…” you moaned. He used that chance to ease his tongue into your mouth and the kiss went from passionate to messy. When you moved your wrists in the slightest, he asserted dominance and pinned them back down into place.

“You think I’m going to let you go so easily now that I have you?” he asked, the hunger in his voice evident. He carefully tugged your bottom lip in between his teeth and pulled it back in a seductive motion, which turned you on even more.

Once he broke the kiss, the only thing that remained was a string of saliva that broke seconds later.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” he said in between pants.

“Since you’ve jerked off to my panties?” you teased while catching your breath.

He rolled his eyes. “Like you’ve never rubbed one out to me before.”

You scrunched up your nose at his response, unable to counteract his statement right away. “Hey… I wouldn’t have had to rub one out if you warmed me up in this cold weather.”

He smirked. “All you had to do was ask, you know.”

Releasing your hands, Jungkook went into your room and grabbed the dildo off the floor. He left you for a short moment and you waited there, confused, until you heard the sound of running water. He came back a minute later and then grabbed your hand, leading you to his bedroom.

“Had to wash it. Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up properly for the real thing.”

He guided you to his bed and helped you remove your jacket, blouse, and leggings. His grin was extra toothy because the set you were wearing was the exact set he jerked off too before.

“What?” you asked, amused.

“N-Nothing.”

When your back was turned for a second, he mouthed the words ‘Oh my god’ and pressed his hands together as if thanking the universe for this very moment.

Now left in your bra and panties, you laid on his bed and he climbed on top of you, his lips latching onto the side of your neck. You mewled at the sizzling contact, pulling him close by his soft locks so that his hot skin was pressed against yours. He trailed his searing kisses down to your collarbone and then settled between the valley of your breasts.

“The bra is pretty… you’re so pretty,” he said, full of admiration. He pulled one of the cups down to gain access to your breasts, capturing your perky nipple between his lips. He sucked tenderly, swirling his tongue around before tugging on it hard enough to elicit a moan. His other hand was greedy, slithering into your already soaked panties. His middle finger dipped in between your folds and he rubbed in circular motions to coax some more slick out of you.

As you arched your back and moaned his name, he dipped one finger into you and began to pump it slowly. He added another one when you begged for it, sounding so desperate that he had to oblige.

“Please fuck me already. I can’t take it,” you breathed. Jungkook only curled his fingers deeper inside, grazing your sweet spot while shaking his head.

“Patience, beautiful. I need to make sure your sweet pussy can take it, remember? Gotta prep you well.”

“But I can take it, I can, oh god please.”

“If you’re a good girl for me. Can you take another finger?”

You nodded eagerly, so he added a third finger and you squeezed your eyes shut from the delicious burn.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked, observing your expressions carefully. You clutched onto the pillow and panted heavily.

“Y-Yeah, I—god—your fingers feel good…”

He began to finger you with all three digits, the tightness of your walls bringing some resistance to his actions. But with a few more neck kisses to relax you, it became easier and you became more undone.

“You’re doing so well,” he whispered into your ear, his heavy breath tickling it. He finally removed his fingers and grabbed the dildo at the end of the bed, bringing up to your lips.

“Show me what those pretty lips of yours can do.”

You stuck out your tongue and licked a long stripe on the toy in a tantalizing slow motion, causing Jungkook to grunt. That damn smile of yours was going to kill him. You were the perfect minx—sweet and naughty. He didn’t have to tell you to suck it because you already were.

“Such a good girl. You’re going to handle my cock so well.”

He removed the dildo out of your mouth and reached into his nightstand to pull out a bottle of lube. You stared at it like it was foreign to you and Jungkook was quick to notice.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I can take it. I know it.”

He chuckled, admiring your determination. “Still, I want to take my time. Besides… it’s not every day I get to fuck someone so beautiful.”

He popped open the cap and squeezed a decent amount of lube onto the toy. Then he got back in between your legs and slowly began to insert it into you. You squirmed from the slippery, cold contact but Jungkook captured your lips into a deep kiss, igniting your body with fervor.

He thrusted the dildo as deep as he could, stopping when there was resistance from your panties. Which you were more than thankful for because you already felt full. But then he began to pump it in and out of you at a steady pace, only accelerating when your moans became more constant.

“Shit, shit,that feels so—“ Your words were swallowed by his lips and that stirred something within you, allowing Jungkook to easily glide the toy back and forth. He soon increased his speed, the obscene sounds your pussy was making the only thing that could be heard in the room.

You broke away from the kiss and began tearing up from the intensity.

“J-Jungkook, I think—“

You couldn’t, actually. Your orgasm crept up on you and made your entire body convulse. You shut your eyes to only see white, your ears were ringing, and your pussy surrendered to the pleasure.

Jungkook removed the toy out of you gently and then kissed your sweaty forehead, giving you a bunny-tooth smile as you calmed down from your high.

“Did you cum?”

You smacked his arm playfully. “Did I cum… pfft. No, actually. I’m waiting for a real man to make me cum. With a fat cock.”

“Well not to toot my own horn but…” He grinded his swollen cock against your thigh. “I think I meet the requirements.”

Now that things slowed down, this was the first time you really got to look at his cock properly. He wasn’t kidding about needing to prep you. It was as big as your dildo but much more girthier. It was a mouth-watering sight.

Flipping the switch, you got on top of Jungkook this time. His eyes widened in surprise but then eased into a smile. You leaned down and kissed him on the cheek.

“Let me take care of you now.”

“But I want to fuck you so bad.”

“You can wait, darling. My pussy is yours.”

His dick twitched at that. You giggled as you got in between his thighs, stroking his member a few times to hear those cute, breathy moans of his.

Will it fit…? God, I hope so.

“Are you afraid you can’t take it?” Jungkook asked with concern. Shit. Did you say that out loud???

“I can. I will.”

“We don’t have to if you don’t—“

“Jungkook,” you said, squeezing his dick tightly, almost like a warning. “I can take it like a good girl. And if not, I’ll tell you. Okay?”

He closed his eyes and nodded as you began to suck him off. There was no way you could take all of him in your mouth but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try. You went as far as you could and stopped when your gag reflex kicked in. Using your hand to stroke the area you couldn’t reach, you swirled your tongue and bobbed your head up and down.

Jungkook’s abs clenched and unclenched at the action and he rested on his elbows to watch you. The way your bra cupped your breasts at this angle was enticing, your pretty lips working so hard to please him, and the view of your ass in those panties could make him cum right then and there.

“Fuck, you’re so good at this—don’t stop.”

You smiled at the praise and continued, loving how he took a sharp inhale of breath when you cupped his balls. He put his hand on your head and pushed you down gently, not wanting to overdo it with his size. You controlled the pace, but he just wanted to touch you and admire you.

“You’re too good to me…”

You released his dick with a satisfying pop sound, kissing the tip and smiling. “Teach me what you like.”

“I love everything you do,” he said, grunting when you began stroking him again from the base to the tip. “Your hands are so much softer than mine.”

You stopped momentarily to spit on your hand before resuming your lewd actions and he threw his head back.

“Fuck [Y/N]. That’s so hot.”

“Yeah? Have I been a good girl? Are you going to reward me?” He snatched your wrist, his eyes darkened and full of lust.

“Can you handle it?”

You turned around on all fours, shaking your ass side to side to tempt him. “Take me, baby. Raw.”

His OJO face returned from your bold suggestion and you flashed him a wink.

“I’m on the pill. Promise,” you informed.

A burst of energy surged within him as he grabbed the bottle of lube and hurriedly squeezed some onto his cock. You giggled when he squirted a bit too much, haphazardly trying to divide it between two hands and spreading it evenly. But things turned serious when he grabbed your hips, yanking you closer to him.

He pulled your panties to the side and ate you out from behind first, loving how delicious your backside looked with them on. You moaned in delight and he placed a hand on your upper back, forcing your face down into the mattress. His tongue dipped into your folds and he flicked it on your clit a few times, loving the whiny sounds you were making. Then he pressed his entire mouth onto your pussy and sucked hard.

You were overwhelmed with pleasure and were on the verge of cumming when he removed his mouth and replaced it with something else.

“Are you ready?” He teased his tip at your leaking entrance and you shuddered.

“Yes, please fuck me.”

“Breathe baby. Relax as much as you can.”

You obeyed, feeling him push himself into you smoothly, knowing he prepped you more than enough. At least, that’s what you thought until he got in halfway. From there on, it felt like he was invading your walls and stretching you to new limits.

There was a mild discomfort and Jungkook kissed your back lovingly to relax your tense muscles. You sighed and allowed him to bottom out, feeling the wind knock out of you when he did.

“God!” you shouted, fisting his bedsheets.

“F-Fuck… you feel amazing I—can I move? Does it hurt?”

“It doesn’t hurt… I just feel really full.”

“Okay,” he said in a restrained voice. “I’ll go slow.”

He gripped your hips tightly, like he needed something else to focus on or else he’d lose control and fuck the living daylights out of you. He eased himself out of you but only half way, wanting to savor your warmth a bit longer. Then he pushed himself back into you, making sure to go as slow as possible.

“Your ass looks amazing in these. You should wear them again.”

Your heart fluttered at the thought of doing this with him again. “Maybe if you spank me.”

He stilled his hips. “You really want me to?”

You began rocking your ass back and forth on his cock. “Yeah. I’m not that fragile… I can take it rough when I want to.” You swore you felt his cock twitch at this. “Hmm, looks like that excited you. You wanna fuck me rough, Jeon?”

He delivered a spank on your cheek, the sensation sending waves of pain and pleasure through your body. Your pussy tightened from this and it made Jungkook hiss. He spanked the other cheek and then both cheeks and you moaned, the slight pain distracting you from the girth of his big cock.

“You think you’re in a position to be a brat?” He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you up so you were on all fours again. Laying on top of your back, he whispered in your ear, “Do you know how badly I want to fucking ruin you?”

He bit the shell of your ear and you let out a content sigh as he slowly thrusted in and out of you.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he reminded you. “But god, you feel so good. So tight. So slippery and wet. I just wanna have my way with you.”

You couldn’t wait anymore. “Please do. Make my pussy remember the shape of your cock. It’s yours to wreck.”

Jungkook got off your back and grabbed a nice fistful of your hair into a makeshift ponytail, forcing your head up as he thrusted into you to the hilt. That feeling of being full hit you full force and you submitted, letting him rock his hips back and forth to the pace he deemed fit. He undid your bra with his free hand, letting the undergarment fall onto the bed as he cupped one breast.

Your moans came out unashamed and full of whiny desperation. The intensity was becoming too much, but it felt too good to stop. There was no more discomfort, only lust and the desire to be fucked so hard that it had your eyes rolling. And Jungkook was more than willing to deliver.

He then grabbed a nearby pillow and placed it under your stomach, pushing your back down until you laid flat.

“I’m not sure, but I read this makes things feel better on Reddit,” he explained quickly as he helped remove your panties. “But let me know if you want me to stop.”

You’re smitten by the fact he cared this much about you but also trying hard not to laugh at how he admitted to going to Reddit for sex advice. He was too precious.

“I will.”

With your ass propped up higher thanks to the elevation of the pillow, Jungkook eased into you once more and you bit into your pillow. He started to slam his hips into you, gripping onto the headboard to steady himself.

“Fuck!” you said through gritted teeth.

“Am I going too fast?” he breathed, slowing down his thrusts.

“No, it’s okay. I want it. I want you.”

Your words unleashed his primal urges to finally give it to you. He shoved his cock deep inside you, each thrust making your ass jiggle, the sight so unbelievably sexy that he had to spank you again.

“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me harder!” you shouted. Jungkook laid on top of you, wrapping his bicep around your neck and planted a kiss on your cheek as he fucked you harder. You begged him to choke you and he obliged, squeezing your neck just enough to make you slightly dizzy.

It was euphoric having that slight danger while being used for his pleasure. Your pussy tightened so much that Jungkook felt he was going to cum.

He slowed the roll of his hips and then pulled out, quickly flipping you onto your back. Thanks to the pillow from earlier, your hips were propped up at the perfect height.

“Spread your legs for me. Wider. Hold them open.”

You were so drunk on lust that you did everything he asked. He held onto your thighs and inserted his cock into you again, the new angle making your moans come out strangulated. He was so huge, you swore his tip was brushing against your cervix. Picking up the pace gradually, you took the abuse of his fat cock and screamed at how good it felt.

“I can’t get enough of you,” Jungkook said through pants, wrapping a hand around the column of your neck. “I’m gonna cum.”

His hips began to stutter and you felt your pussy growing sore from the stretch. Anymore and you’d be in tears. You wanted to cum too, so you snuck your hand down to your clit and rubbed in circular motions. Jungkook used the last remaining bits of strength to fuck you for a few more minutes, which was more than enough for you to reach your climax.

Cumming a second time was more painful than the first time due to the over sensitivity. But somehow it was more enjoyable because you had never felt something so intense. Jungkook kept coaxing you with sweet words, promising he was almost finished.

He rutted into you for the last few seconds, counting 3, 2, 1 before spilling his seed inside you. His body laid on top of yours, the two of you sticky and sweaty but it was comforting just being in his embrace.

“Jungkook?”

“Yeah?”

“Get off. We gotta pee.”

He laughed at your serious tone. “I think I need another shower. Care to join me?”

Your roommate literally just fucked your brains out 5 minutes ago. Why were you feeling self-conscious in the shower with him? It didn’t make sense!

With the hot water on, you took a deep breath before feeling a pair of arms wrap around you from behind.

“Questions, comments, concerns?”

Oh my god, you had to marry this man. “Um… I think I’ll be sore for the next few days.”

“I’m sorry.

“Don’t be. I enjoyed it a lot.”

He turned you around, so that you were facing him. “Enough to do it again?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Tonight?”

“W-Well… I mean—“

Look at him fumbling over his words. Adorable. “You’re such a pervert.”

“I can’t help it. You turn me on.”

You covered your chest, feeling shy. “Is that all I’m good for…?”

He immediately understood what you meant. “Of course not. Look at me,” he said while tilting your chin up. “Don’t you know how I feel about you?”

Your lips curled into a smile. “Well I learned today that you jerked off to my panties and you count down before you cum.”

You couldn’t help but explode into laughter at his OJO face when he heard you say that.

“Hey! I do it to let you know when it’s coming!”

“Yes sir,” you teased with a salute. “I appreciate your punctuality, sir!”

“Oh my god, you’re so cheeky.” He hugged you again and booped his nose into yours. “I like you. You know, when a boy likes a girl and they go out on a date and then—oh shit, I did things backwards.”

You giggled. “I think I prefer it this way. I like you too. I’ve… liked you for a long time.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because! I didn’t want to make things awkward. But I guess things ended up being awkward anyway…”

“Because you were masturbating to me?”

He had such a proud smile on his face.

“Whatever! Panty thief!”

“You left them there.”

“You should’ve told me!”

“I did!”

“After you had your fun! You are so—”

He gave you a surprise peck on the cheek to distract you.

“Awesome?” He smooched you again. And again. You couldn’t help but giggle.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Mmhmm. So… do you want to stay in my room tonight?”

“As long as you warm me up.”

“Oh, for sure. I’m great at that.”

“Because of experience or Reddit?”

There was his OJO face again. “Hey~!”

I truly hope you enjoyed the fic! Thank you for giving my writing a chance. :) Also I have an AO3 if you're more comfortable commenting there. Thanks!

#ggukienet #jungkook #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook #jungkook scenarios #my scenarios

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daechwitatamic · 5 months ago

Text

Cinnamon || KMG

banner by @sailorrhansol

Written for the Lonely Hearts Cafe Collab!

Cinnamon mingyu x fem!reader (nicknamed Sunny), reader x male oc for a while fluff smut angst best friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, idiots to lovers all apply NSFW - minors DNI

Summary: You finally decide to try and move on after years of waiting for Mingyu to return your feelings. But when you start bringing your new boyfriend around more often, things with Mingyu get... difficult.

WC: 19k

Warnings: language, recreational drinking and overdrinking, a brief mention of throwing up from a hangover, angst and hurt feelings, not miscommunication but definitely refusal to communicate, kissing (some with mg and some with a male oc), arguments, reader and mingyu are both imperfect people who make mistakes and do things wrong... theyre not bad or toxic people but their choices can be hurtful... theyre humans who mess up have to just do their best to do better going forward, quick and prosey smut scene with piv penetration

A/N: thank you to @sailorsoons and @eoieopda for beta-inggggg iluuuuu

December

“Good morning, Sunshine.”

You grumble in response, eyes still mostly closed, as you make your way by muscle memory to your apartment’s barely-functioning coffee machine. Only once you’ve poured a mug, stirred in everything you need to make it palatable, and taken your first sip, do you speak actual words.

“Morning. You’re up early.”

Jeonghan, one of your three roommates, nods solemnly. “I have a nine o’clock meeting today, but I need to get some files together first, so I’m trying to be there by eight,” he tells you. You glance at the clock on the microwave - it’s already 7:20.

“You might want to get moving,” you warn him.

He makes a face that says, I know, but - and cocks his head towards the bathroom the four of you share. The door is closed and the light inside is on, which means it must be occupied. It’s not usually a problem, even with four of you - your schedules are just different enough that it works out.

You frown. “Wonwoo isn’t gone yet?” He’s usually the first one out of the house on weekdays since he’s got the longest commute.

Jeonghan shakes his head, but then the light clicks off and the door opens. A girl you’ve never seen before steps out cautiously, then pauses when she sees the kitchen isn’t empty.

“Oh,” she breathes. “Hi. Good morning. I’ll just -”

She gives you each a polite nod and slips quickly back through the nearest door - Mingyu’s bedroom.

You face Jeonghan again and roll your eyes. He gives you a bit of a grimace and gets up, hurrying into the now-empty bathroom.

You take his seat at the table, sip slowly at your coffee. Having three guys as roommates means this happens with relative regularity, though usually the guys keep their conquests to weekends and holidays. Mingyu must have really liked this girl to bring her home on a weeknight. You glance back at his closed door; you can faintly hear their voices, but not what they’re saying. She was pretty.

You tuck away whatever feelings you might have about this, just like you always do, wipe your heart as clean as a classroom chalkboard at the beginning of a new day. Jeonghan vacates the bathroom, clearly in a hurry, and you take his place, turning the shower on and praying that there’ll be enough hot water left to get you through. (There’s not.)

Later, as you sit on the train amidst a sea of other morning commuters, you check your phone.

Roomies 💕

[8:07am] (jeong)Han Solo: i would like to issue a formal complaint

[8:07 am] wonuuu: i left plenty of coffee bro

[8:07am] (jeong)Han Solo: not that

[8:09am] Cinnamingyu: if this is a noise complaint… i’m sorry but also no i’m not

[8:09am] You: you’re disgusting

[8:09am] Cinnamingyu: you love me

[8:10am] You: 🙄

[8:10am] (jeong)Han Solo: so does the girl whose presence in our one (1) bathroom made me late this morning

[8:10am] (jeong)Han Solo: if i get fired you’re covering my part of the rent

[8:11am] Cinnamingyu: have fun defending that in small claims court

[8:11am] You: i am happy to be a witness on your behalf

[8:11am] Cinnamingyu: et tu brutus?

[8:11am] You: my shower was lukewarm at best

[8:12am] You: you will be hearing from my counsel

[8:12am] You: thanks in advance wonwoo

[8:14am] wonuuu: for the millionth time… I cannot be your counsel. I’m not qualified yet.

[8:14am] You: yet ☝️

[8:17am] Cinnamingyu: let’s not ignore the real problem here… we need another bathroom

[8:21am] (jeong)Han Solo: ok great, tell me when you win the lottery so we can move out

Chuckling, you slide your phone back into your coat pocket as the train pulls into your stop. You hurry through the train station, tucking your chin into your coat collar as you speed through the icy December morning. It’s one of those dry cold days, where the air around you feels frozen, almost hurts to breathe. Everything is grey - sky above you, buildings around you, ground below you. Fast steps take you the three blocks to your office building, where you sigh in relief as the heated air hits your face, chasing away the chill.

You check your phone again as you hang your coat on your chair in your cubicle. As usual, Mingyu has texted you privately, away from the group chat.

[8:31am] Cinnamingyu: sorry about the hot water :(

[8:38am] You: you should be. i shivered through my whole conditioning routine.

[8:38am] Cinnamingyu: poor sunny baby :( :( :( will you ever forgive me?

You roll your eyes, but you’re fighting a smile. You hate that Mingyu can just charm you right out of a mood, and you hate it even more than he knows it and weaponizes it. He’s the one who gave you the nickname Sunny (or Sunshine depending on how cranky you were at the given moment) back when you were a college freshman. Your other roommates picked it up, but Mingyu was the only one who ever turned Sunshine or Sunny into Sunny Baby.

It’s absolutely horrendous, unfathomable, deeply unfair that it works, that it makes you melt into goo when he uses it. Still, you try to hold strong.

[8:38am] You: don’t you Sunny Baby me Kim Mingyu, you have crimes to answer for!!!

[8:39am] Cinnamingyu: ill cook for you tonight as penance. and then maybe a movie?

You frown. You wish you could take him up on the offer. Mingyu’s a great cook. One of the many things you love about him.

[8:39am] You: rain check. i won’t be home for dinner

[8:39am] Cinnamingyu: what’s this? did you manage to bag a man????

[8:39am] You: i hate you so much

[8:39am] You: yes you absolute scrambled egg, i have a date

Mingyu sends you a gif of an old man suggestively wiggling his eyebrows, and you laugh out loud. Then you stash your phone behind your keyboard and get to work. But when you check it again a few hours later, after your first meeting of the day lets out, he’s texted you again.

[8:40am] Cinnamingyu: is it the same guy as last week? date number TWO?? 😮

[10:51am] You: yeeeeees 🤭

[10:51am] Cinnamingyu: wow, big moves for you. a second date! do we need to have The Talk?

[10:51am] You: blocked and reported

This is an ancient song and dance for you and Mingyu. When you’ve been friends as long as you have, some things just become routine. Like you, gracefully ignoring the handful of girls that you never see a second time. Like him, acting like it’s monumental when you actually give someone a chance.

He’s used to you giving no one a chance, ever. He knows it doesn’t happen much.

But you had a good first date with Daeyoung last week. A really good first date. You’d been texting a lot since then, too. He was funny - witty. And cute. So you’d thought to yourself… what the hell. Why not? Why not go out a second time? What else were you going to do tonight?

(Stay home and eat the food Mingyu cooks for you. Watch a movie together on the couch.)

And, sure, you do want to do those things. But going out with Daeyoung tonight won’t change a thing between you and Mingyu. He’ll grill you about it when you get home, maybe tease you a little, and you’ll do food and a movie another night.

Daeyoung takes you bowling. You weren’t sure how you’d feel about it, not having been in a bowling alley since you were a kid, and remembering them as vaguely sticky places. But it ends up being kind of cute, maybe even nostalgic. Daeyoung buys a pitcher of beer and sets it on your - yes - sticky table, and walks with you as you select a pink ball that is definitely meant for children.

“You know that’s only six pounds, right?” he asks you, smiling playfully.

“Bold of you to think I could lift a heavier one,” you deadpan, and he laughs. You like his laugh - it’s easy, light, like he’s wholly uncomplicated. You could use some uncomplicated in your life.

You're terrible at bowling - you score a 42 on your first game, the ball finding the gutter more times than it stays on the lane. Even so, you manage to have fun. Daeyoung doesn’t make you feel weird about it - in fact, he barely pays attention to the actual bowling. Instead he talks to you about your day, asks about your family, doesn't seem like he's freaked out that you live with three guy friends. He doesn’t even ask the very common, “so, has anything ever happened there?” for which you’re grateful.

He’s got three sisters, you learn, and grew up with cats but still wants a dog someday. He graduated two years before you, has never traveled outside the country.

You offer back your own resume of sorts - an older sister and a younger brother, no pets growing up and allergic to most mammals (perhaps humans included, as has been pointed out by Mingyu on many occasions, usually in the same conversation that he’s calling you Sunshine and pinching your cheeks like your attitude is cute). Graduated with Honors and haven’t traveled much either, though you’d love to when you have some money saved up.

Your phone lights up on the table every so often, and you check it while Daeyoung takes his turn on the lane. A few are Jeonghan and one of your co-workers, and one is your little brother asking how to get blood out of laundry which is super alarming - but the rest are from Mingyu.

[7:19pm] Cinnamingyu: just know that you are missing one of my best creations

[7:19pm] Cinnamingyu: but dont worry i will save you some ☺️ because i’m the best roommate ever

[7:31pm] You: thank youuuuu! I might not have any tonight but you know i’ll eat the leftovers!

[7:31pm] Cinnamingyu: hows the date?

[7:36pm] You: i am very bad at bowling actually!!!

[7:36pm] Cinnamingyu: aim for the pins

[7:43pm] You: have i mentioned that i hate you?

[7:43pm] Cinnamingyu: guess i’ll throw these leftovers out then

[8:12pm] Cinnamingyu: what time do you think youll be home?

[8:15pm] Cinnamingyu: sorry i didnt mean that like WHEN WILL YOU BE HOME YOUNG LADY

[8:15pm] Cinnamingyu: i was asking bc i was deciding if i want to start a movie or wait for you i wasnt trying to

[8:15pm] Cinnamingyu: you know

[8:15pm] Cinnamingyu: anyway. aim for the pins. wear protection. etc. see you later lol

[8:38pm] You: young lady 🙄 go away mingyu!!!

[8:38pm] Cinnamingyu: you dont mean that

[8:38pm] You: i don’t 😘

[8:47pm] You: if you wanna save a movie for me… i should be home by 11

Daeyoung drives you home after the date, and you note that his car is clean, but not serial killer clean. A green flag.

When he asks if he can see you again soon, as he's pulling the car up to your building, you tell him yes without hesitating. It’ll be your first third date in maybe ever, and you make a little note in your brain that you should probably talk to him about this, make sure he can be on the same page - that this is fun and you’ll keep going out as long as it’s a good time, but you aren’t really looking for serious.

When he pauses, leaning in a little closer, you feel yourself smile, and you let him. It’s a nice kiss.

He’s a nice guy.

There’s no reason you couldn’t follow through with this. There’s no giant problem with him, no personality quirk or inherent difference that makes him ineligible.

But.

You push the thought away. “Thanks for tonight,” you tell him. “I had a good time.”

“You’d have a better time if you listened to my advice and used a heavier ball,” he says seriously, but there’s a twinkle in his eyes that tells you he’s teasing. “You can’t expect to knock down pins when they weigh more than what you’re throwing at them.”

“Sounds fake,” you joke, and hop out of the car. Before you shut the door, you pause. “See you next weekend?”

His smile unfurls, pleased. “Yeah,” he says. “I’ll text you.”

You practically skip back into the apartment. You pause at the closet by the front door, pulling off your boots and hanging up your puffy winter coat. You can hear the tv on in the living room and water running in the kitchen.

You step into the kitchen, heading for the fridge. Mingyu stands at the sink, his back to you, up to his elbow in suds. You bump him with your hips as you pass by, and he kicks at you and misses. You open the fridge and grab a can of seltzer. Mingyu smiles at you from the sink, and just like that, Daeyoung evaporates from your mind.

He calls you Sunny, but he’s the sun. Has been that way as long as you’ve known him - since undergrad.

You’d met in your freshman year - he was puppy-dog cute, back then, not the chiseled sculpture of a man who takes up half your kitchen now. You’d been in the Arts and he’d been in the Sciences - something mathy - but you’d bonded in one of those godawful general requirement classes, and somehow the friendship had taken hold.

Mingyu holding your hand - metaphorically and literally - through your two required math classes and two required science labs was the only reason you’d even managed to graduate. Of course, you’d also written every single formal paper he had through the whole four years, so it evened out.

You complement each other that way, in every area. He’s outgoing and friendly, you’re cranky enough to be given the nickname Sunny in pure irony. Mingyu likes puzzles and problems he can work out, you like to turn the brain off for any and all hobbies. Mingyu is sunshine and big smiles, you are made of salt and sarcasm.

But you love each other - have been best friends since almost the moment you met. There is nothing in your life you’d be willing to lose less than him.

You wander up to him and lean against his arm, mostly to be funny because he continues to wash dishes even as it jostles you around, and it becomes a little game of him trying to shake you off and you refusing to be shaken.

“How was your night?” he asks finally, reaching to turn off the water. You automatically pass him a dish towel to dry his hands. He takes it, drying, and then reaches around you to hang it back up near the oven.

“Not as good as yours,” you snicker, noticing a purple blotch near his collar.

He flushes dark, slapping a hand over the spot. “Yah,” he complains.

You laugh. “She was cute!”

“She’d be cuter if she spent less time in our bathroom!” Jeonghan’s disembodied voice floats from the living room.

“Alright, we get it!” Mingyu calls back hotly. “You’ve only been complaining about that for fifteen hours!”

Cackling, you follow him out into the living room. Jeonghan is sprawled sideways on the two-seater, a show you don’t recognize playing across the tv screen. Down the hallway, Wonwoo’s door is open about a foot, casting the hallway in flickering blue light that tells you he’s gaming and you probably won’t see him for the rest of the night.

“So,” Jeonghan says dryly, without peeling his eyes from the tv, “I noticed your boyfriend’s car idling outside for quite a while before you came in. Were we necking?”

“Necking?” you splutter. Beside you, Mingyu is biting on his lips, trying not to laugh at your expense. “What year is this, 1950? And he’s not my boyfriend. You know that.”

You can’t help the defensive edge that creeps into your voice. From where he’s plopped on the couch, Mingyu reaches up for your hand, tugging. You let him pull you into the space next to him and he rubs a soothing hand across your shoulders before taking his hand away. It’s a silent, quick moment - easy to miss if you aren’t looking. But you are looking, always, and you wonder if he even knows he does this - reads your moods, rushes to fix you.

Unbothered by your ruffled feathers, Jeonghan asks lightly, “So, are you seeing him again, or…?”

The bastard hasn’t even looked away from the television screen.

“You’re such an ass sometimes,” you grumble at him.

Now he looks over at you, smiling beatifically, innocently. “There’s my Sunshine.”

“Fuck off.”

“Well?” Mingyu asks from next to you, eyebrows raised. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” you say, trying to sound casual. You can tell the jackals are in a mood tonight.

Jeonghan’s face splits into a delighted grin. “A third date? My goodness.”

“We all know what happens on a third date,” Mingyu says sagely, and you punch him in the thigh, extra hard since you can only reach him and not Jeonghan too.

Wonwoo’s voice comes from down the hallway. “Leave Sunny alone, you guys.”

“Yeah,” you grumble. “Leave Sunny alone.”

Mingyu stretches over your lap to reach for the remote. It brings his torso almost flush against yours and you feel your face heat.

“I was watching that,” Jeonghan complains before Mingyu even presses anything.

“Sunny and I are watching a movie,” Mingyu says flatly. “Go watch on your laptop if you care so much.”

Jeonghan reaches towards your couch lazily and slaps at the air like he can’t be assed to work any harder to hit his roommate. “You’re cranky today,” he observes, the arm not trying (sort of) to slap Mingyu’s leg folded behind his head. “Why might that be?”

Mingyu doesn’t answer him, just settles back next to you, his arm against yours, and starts scrolling through movie options.

He still hasn’t picked one when Wonwoo appears in the living room’s doorway, leaning against the wooden frame, his LED headset looped around his neck and his eyes on his phone.

“What are we watching?” he asks absently.

“Nothing, apparently,” Jeonghan quips.

Beside you, Mingyu growls a little.

Unphased - this is so normal for them, it would be more alarming if they weren’t pissing each other off - you look up and Wonwoo and say, “I didn’t think you’d emerge tonight.”

“I’m heading right back in,” he admits. “Hydration break. Anyway - question. What’s everyone’s plans for the holidays?”

Mingyu stops scrolling, pausing to think.

“I’ll be home,” Jeonghan says, meaning his hometown.

“Me, too,” Mingyu adds. “I’m leaving on Sunday. Next Sunday, I mean.”

Wonwoo lets out a little sigh. “Okay. My folks were asking when I was coming. Sunny, you’re going home, too?”

“Uh, no, actually,” you admit. “I was staying here.”

You feel rather than see your friends share a glance.

“I can stay, then,” Wonwoo says, a bit tightly - you can tell that wasn’t the plan. “So you aren’t alone.”

“No,” you protest. “I’m perfectly fine being here by myself, you know that.”

“Sunny Baby is an indoor cat,” Mingyu notes, and you bump him with your elbow.

“It’s fine,” you insist. “Plus, I think Daeyoung will be around, so I won’t be alone the whole time anyway.”

Mingyu’s eyes bore into the side of your face, but you don’t look at him; if it’s pity he’s leveling at you, you don’t want it.

“If you’re sure,” Wonwoo says, and when you assure him you do, he vanishes into the kitchen and then back into his room. Mingyu clicks on a movie and you settle in, eventually getting sleepy and shifting sideways, your head resting comfortably on his unfairly sculpted shoulder. He shifts to let you get more comfortable, and the night passes as simply and pleasantly as hundreds before.

When the movie ends, you pick up the bottles and cans from the coffee table while Mingyu does a quick lap of the apartment, turning off lights and making sure doors are locked. You meet outside the bathroom - occupied by Jeonghan - both waiting your turn to brush your teeth and whatever else before bed.

“Sunny Baby,” Mingyu says softly, something tentative in his voice, and you look up at him, heart suddenly thumping. He’s looking at you earnestly in the dim light from the bedrooms down the hall, something you’re not sure you can name on his face. It’s almost pleading, but that doesn’t make sense. “Are you sure you don’t want to come home with me for the holidays? My family would love to have you - they’re obsessed with you, you know that.”

Your heart calms. “It’s really okay,” you promise. “But thanks for checking.”

The bathroom door opens and Jeonghan slips by, leaving a wave of toothpaste-mint in his wake.

“You go ahead,” Mingyu says.

“You were in line first,” you argue.

He rolls his eyes but knows how stubborn you are, so he disappears into the bathroom. You lean your butt against the kitchen table and check your phone for the first time in a while.

Daeyoung had texted shortly after he drove away - probably as soon as he got home.

[11:24pm] Daeyoung: I had a really good time tonight. Looking forward to next week :]

[12:51am] You: me too ☺️

The bathroom door opens and you turn off your phone screen with a click, bidding Mingyu goodnight as you slide into the bathroom’s light.

–

January

New Year’s Eve

Roomies 💕

[11:13pm] (jeong)Han Solo: sunny where’d you end up tonight?

[11:13pm] You: i’m with the girliesss!!! where are you guys

[11:13pm] Cinnamingyu: sunnnyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy baby baby baby

[11:13pm] You: yyyeeesssss??

[11:14pm] (jeong)Han Solo: we’re downtown. mingyu cant come to the phone right now but i think he wants you to come hang out with us

[11:14pm] You: lmao nooooo he didnt even make it to midnight??? thats sad, kim mingyu

[11:16pm] Wonuuu: u ever think about that phrase “can’t come to the phone”… from an era in which you had to walk to the family’s landline phone in the kitchen or whatever… none of us were even alive for that

[11:16pm] You: wow apparently you guys are having a much better time than me

[11:16pm] (jeong)Han Solo: only wonwoo lol ok be safe and have fun!! see you at home

–

[11:14pm] Cinnamingyu: come out!!

[11:14pm] You: i am out! Lol

[11:15am] Cinnamingyu: you know what i mean

[11:16am] You: im sorry :( but we’re across town and by the time we got there we’d miss the countdown

[11:16am] Cinnamingyu: ok 🙁

[11:16am] You: don’t pout!!! i’ll see you at home tomorrow and we can hang out all day

[11:16am] Cinnamingyu: not the same!

[11:17am] You: ok lets take a shot together!!

[11:17am] Cinnamingyu: ???

[11:17am] You: go order one and tell me when you’re ready!!

[11:18am] Cinnamingyu: lmao on it 🫡

[11:28am] Cinnamingyu: ok im ready

[11:28am] You: ok when you get this count to three and take your shot!

[11:29am] You: geonbae or cheers or salute or whatever

[11:29am] Cinnamingyu: or whatever 🙄

[11:29am] You: 😘

New Year’s Day

Roomies 💕

[12:00am] You: HAPPY NEW YEAR LOVES OF MY LIFE LET THIS BE THE BESTEWT YEAR FOR US EVER EVER EVR!!!!!

[12:00am] Wonuuu: happy new year sunny 🙂

[12:00am] (jeong)Han Solo: happy new yearrr 😽

[4:09am] You: home safe ♥️

[10:33am] Wonuuu: i’ll be home tomorrow sunny

[12:42pm] (jeong)Han Solo: i’ll be back tonight but probably not until after dinner

[12:42pm] You: ok! i’ll be here

[3:17pm] (jeong)Han Solo: is mingyu alive???

[3:17pm] You: lol yeah he’s home. he’s just… not in the best shape asfjkasfhaio

[12:00am] Cinnamingyu: happy new year sunny baby 🩷

[12:01am] You: happy new year best friend!!!!!!! ily ily ily!!!!

[12:32am] Cinnamingyu: you kno you could still meet us out nw

[11:23am] Cinnamingyu: can u open the front door… my head hurts too bad to make the keys work

You stagger to the apartment’s front door, eyes squinting against the harsh daylight streaming into the living room and kitchen area. When you unlock and pull open the door, Mingyu almost collapses on top of you.

“Get up,” you groan, shuffling backwards. “You’re too heavy, I can’t hold you!”

“Shhhh,” he whispers, but rights himself to standing.

You stand there for a minute, both of you just grappling with the horrible reality of being awake and upright and, god, very hungover.

“I need to lay down,” Mingyu says finally, very clearly, like he’s had a sudden burst of self-preservation.

“Come on,” you wave at him vaguely and make your way back to bed. You collapse right into the spot you’d vacated when he texted, pulling the blankets up to your ears and closing your eyes, waiting for the bed to dip beside you.

It doesn’t.

You open your eyes again. “Mingyu?”

He appears wordlessly in your doorway, then makes his way over to his side of the bed. The empty side of your bed. Not his. You have to stop thinking that way.

You’re puzzled, but then he leans over and presses a cold water bottle into your hand. Despite his whining, he was still trying to take care of you.

“Did you take any pain killer?” you mumble.

“Probably more than was actually advisable,” he admits, twisting his own water open and drinking noisily. You don’t see a problem with this - Mingyu is gigantic, and you can imagine his dosing needs would reflect it.

“Okay,” you say with a little sigh. “We’ll sleep for a while and then maybe we can try to eat.”

“God, don’t talk about food,” he moans, taking one of your extra pillows and covering his face.

You chuckle lightly, and then roll to hide your face somewhere near his bicep, breathing in his familiar cinnamon scent and matching your breaths to his until you slip back under. The millionth time you’ve fallen asleep next to your best friend, and you’re already eagerly looking ahead to a million and one.

You’re awakened by the sound of someone retching in the bathroom, clear on the other side of the apartment. You scrabble for and glance at your phone - hours have passed. The light in your bedroom has slipped closer to golden as mid-afternoon begins to wane. You sit up tentatively; this time there’s no wave of dizziness as a punishment for being vertical, though your head still pounds.

You drink some of the water Mingyu brought you, answer a text from Jeonghan, then decide to go make sure Mingyu’s alive.

“You need anything?” you call through the door. You can hear the sink run, and the door opens.

“A lobotomy,” he deadpans. He looks miserable, frown pronounced and eyes puffy.

“Get back in bed,” you tell him gently, and he ambles off towards your room. You detour into the kitchen and start a pot of coffee. It might not save him, but you could use some caffeine.

While it brews, you poke your head into your bedroom. Mingyu is back in your bed, curled up pitifully, that pouting frown still prevalent on his face.

“What time did you take something?” you ask him.

“Like ten thirty,” he mumbles into your pillow.

You glance at the clock. “You can have more,” you tell him, and head back across the apartment to pilfer through the medicine cabinet.

With the pill bottle in hand, you stop in the kitchen long enough to pour yourself a cup of coffee. Carefully balancing so as not to spill, you bring it into the bedroom, placing it carefully on your nightstand and then nudging Mingyu’s shoulder.

He whines a response.

“I have drugs for you,” you tell him, and he holds up an open palm without lifting his face.

You drop the medicine into his hand and get comfy back in your spot, even though you think you’re done sleeping for now. Beside you, Mingyu takes the pills and settles back into sleep. He’s snoring before you can even choose a show to watch on your phone.

You look over at him fondly, disaster that he is. Then you settle in deeper, content to let his warmth radiate over to you, content to be by his side.

–

[12:02am] Daeyoung: happy new year! wishing you luck and happiness ☺️

[4:23pm] You: thank you!!! to you as well!!

–

February

Valentine’s Day is an emotional minefield. You don’t know if you want to lean into the bitter and single thing, or if you want to go all Gal-entines and pamper your friends, or if you want to just keep your head down and treat the day like any other fuck-ass Tuesday in winter.

The universe surprises you with a secret fourth option. Or, rather, Daeyoung does.

You’ve lost track counting your dates with him at this point - you are simply dating. Neither of you has pushed for a what is this conversation, and you’re relieved. You like Daeyoung, you like the time you spend together, and you’d be sad if things ended. But at the same time, you don’t feel things getting deeper, and if he pushed you to make this serious, to put parameters on it, you’re not sure how you’d feel.

Something inside you keeps it light - enough so that you don’t even think of doing anything for him to celebrate the holiday.

Apparently, you’re an asshole.

Sometime after ten, your office’s secretary calls you, asking you to come up to reception for a minute. You’re suspicious, but you don’t do the mental math about what day it is until you turn the corner and see the small vase of roses - three of them, arranged with some baby’s breath and a few other fillers you can’t name - sitting on the reception counter.

“These got delivered for you,” she tells you, and it’s clear on her face that she’s dying for you to spill. “Are they from that guy? The tall one who looks like a movie star?”

This would annoy you if you weren’t so used to it. Everyone asks you if you’re with Mingyu - they never understand why you’re not when you two are attached at the hip.

It had happened once - just a kiss at a frat party, in the middle of the dance floor. You’d both been drinking, of course, and pressed close together to dance, his chest against your back and his hands on your hips and then you’d turned and tipped your chin up and his sparkling eyes had gone molten before he’d kissed you and your whole world had been swept away -

And you’d been interrupted, had been literally pulled away to deal with some drama happening in the kitchen, and somehow… you’d never talked about it. It never happened again.

Sometimes, you wonder if you only dreamed it. It wouldn’t surprise you.

But, no. Your imagination is good, but it’s not good enough to come up with the minute details of how his pecs had felt under your hands, how his fingers had felt pressed into the small of your back, how he had almost sighed into your mouth when it opened for him, how he had tasted a bit like cinnamon, courtesy of the fireball shots the frat was giving out like candy.

Anyway. Life goes on, right?

“No,” you tell the secretary quickly, because you know the roses aren’t from Mingyu. Even if he’d done something today, as your friend, he knows you aren’t much of a roses girl. “We’re just friends.” You will the words to leave your mouth without leaving ashes in their wake.

You reach for the small card tied around the thinnest part of the vase to see who did send them.

Thought you deserved something pretty today. Don’t freak out. :] - Daeyoung

The secretary is still watching you, harmlessly curious.

“It’s just a guy I’ve been seeing,” you say. “It’s not serious.”

“Wow,” she says, eyeing the simple arrangement. “Looks like he thinks it’s a little serious - or that it could be.”

“That’s probably true,” you muse out loud, taking the arrangement back to your own cubicle and setting it on your desk. You snap a photo and text it to Daeyoung with a thank you and a row of sobbing emojis. Then you stand behind your chair, eyes on the red petals, your hand pressed to your mouth, processing.

You didn’t expect to feel like this. A fluttering, a rush of excitement. Even though you aren’t into roses, specifically, the thought is very nice. And no one has thought of you, not like this, in a very long time.

When you get home, the apartment is dark and empty. You wonder if any of the guys have dates tonight, or if they’re working late, or with family. You set the roses on the kitchen table, hang up your coat, and then shoot the grouptext a quick “where is everyone?”. Then you head into your room, eager to take a quick shower and change into something comfy.

You freeze when you flick on your bedroom light.

The clutter on your small desk has been pushed to the side, and a clear vase holds a thick bouquet of sunflowers - your favorite.

You hear yourself gasp, the sound echoing through your head on a loop as you stare at the bright, yellow blooms. You step forward on shaky legs, reaching for the tiny card that’s slipped under the vase.

Sunny flowers for Sunny Baby. Love you. - M

The tears come with such unexpected force that you almost laugh through the third sob. You can barely see through the sudden stream of tears, can hear yourself struggling to inhale. You hurry to shut your bedroom door, locking it for good measure, and then those shaking legs of yours give up, and you sink to your knees and weep into your hands, trying to muffle the sounds, just in case anyone comes home.

You cry so hard it makes your abs hurt, makes the muscles in your face feel stretched, nearly makes you gag. You haven’t cried like this since undergrad.

Because he loves you, but he doesn’t love you, and even though you’ve been pretending for so long it’s as unconscious as breathing, it doesn’t shatter you any less.

Because he’s perfect, and he’s yours, but somehow you still don’t have him, and in the meantime no one else will ever be enough - just for not being him.

Because being thought of earlier by Daeyoung was nice, but it is so much better to be known, like this. Mingyu knows you don’t like roses. Mingyu knows your favorites. Mingyu knows you.

And it’s a waste. It’s all for fucking nothing.

When the tears start to settle and you can breathe a little better, you push yourself back to your feet. You listen at your bedroom door and don’t hear anyone, so you hurry across the apartment and into the bathroom, where you blow your nose and splash your face with cold water.

When you come out again, Jeonghan is in the kitchen.

“Hey,” he says, his back to you. When he turns, he freezes, his face dropping. You must be puffy and red, still.

“Hey,” you reply meekly.

“Oh, Sunny,” he says mournfully, stepping closer. “I told him he shouldn’t, but he asked why not, he’s your friend, and I couldn’t say -”

You let out a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah,” you mutter. “It’s fine. It’ll be fine.”

He watches you carefully, probably trying to gauge if you’re lying. Then he spots the roses and lights up.

“Well, well,” he says, a sly smile showing up on his face. “Those are nice.”

“Yeah,” you say again, the only word in your arsenal. “They are. I, um, I think I’m gonna shower. Do you need the bathroom first?”

Under the spray of hot water, you cry a little more, like an aftershock hit you. It’s quiet this time, and you try to shoulder through it as you condition your hair, ready to put this whole episode behind you once you step out into the chilly bathroom air again.

When you emerge, Jeonghan is on the couch. By the sounds coming from down the hallway, Wonwoo has just gotten home and is dumping the contents of his life onto his bedroom floor. Jeonghan opens his mouth to say something, but you lift a fluffy-bathrobe-clad arm and silently shush him.

“It’s fine,” you say again, firmly.

Jeonghan had been your friend first, back in undergrad. You’d brought him into the friend group the same way Mingyu had brought Wonwoo. The four of you had worked cohesively as a friend-and-roommate unit for a long time, but sometimes those old alliances seemed to matter more than others. Jeonghan would never cross the line without your permission, would never tell your secrets if you weren’t willing to tell them yourself. Wonwoo, on the other hand, was much more likely to open his mouth - especially if he thought he was helping.

The front door bursts open, and Mingyu enters the apartment in a cacophony of noise and dropped items, oranges spilling from the bag in his arms and rolling across the floor. You move to pick a few up as he puts the bag of groceries down and pulls his boots off.

“Sunny!” he says, all excitement, eyes shining. “Did you like my gift?”

You can’t even look at Jeonghan, turning your back to him completely as you hold out the oranges you’d collected. Mingyu takes them, but watches you eagerly, waiting for your answer.

“Yeah,” you say honestly. “I loved it.”

His smile triples.

You were wrong when you said Mingyu was the sun. Mingyu is an avalanche. Rushing, rolling, thundering over and through you until there’s nothing left but a glinting field of ice and silence. Nothing else matters - nothing else exists - in his wake.

“You better watch out, Mingyu,” Jeonghan says from the couch, and your blood runs as cold as that field of ice, because you know he’s about to start some shit. “Sunny got flowers from her lover today. That guy’s coming for your woman.”

You’re opening your mouth to reprimand him - tell him to shut up, or something - but Mingyu beats you to it.

“Sunny’s not mine,” he says simply.

All that ice evaporates in an instant like it was never there.

“My lover,” you echo with a frown, when you can speak again. “Don’t say it like that, you weirdo.”

“Well, isn’t he?” Jeonghan asks innocently.

You head for your bedroom with a roll of your eyes. “Goodnight, Jeonghan.”

“That means yes,” he sing-songs, and you slam your door shut.

Wonwoo’s voice floats through the door. “Who pissed off Sunshine?”

Mingyu’s grumble responds, “Who do you think?”

–

You and Mingyu lay side by side in the grass, a late spring night unspooling with cricket song and a smattering of flickering stars above you. His arm touches yours and you can feel his chest shift as he breathes deeply.

You feel content - you feel infinite - you feel like one of those blinking stars. You feel like you could lay here next to him in silence and be happy until your light goes out, just like theirs.

“Mingyu,” you say, turning to look at him. The grass tickles your cheek.

He turns to look at you, too. It’s dark, here behind the university’s main hub, most of the lights on the far side of the building. Still, there’s enough light to see his eyes, steady on you, his gaze serious.

“Sunny Baby,” he responds, voice low, like he’s telling you a secret. “I love you.”

You startle awake, heart pounding, and you’re immediately furious.

“Fuck,” you hiss, punching your mattress once.

The pathetic truth is you dream about that night in undergrad all the time - you and Mingyu on one of the last nights before summer break, leaving a party together and laying in the grass behind the advising department building watching the constellations rotate above you.

The pathetic truth is the dream never follows the script, always turning the scene sideways, making it something different than what it was.

The pathetic truth is that Mingyu had been blacked out, more fucked up than you’d ever seen him, and you’d laid in the grass because you physically couldn’t keep him upright any further than that and you’d had to text Wonwoo to come help you.

You hadn’t said anything to Mingyu - at least not something meaningful. You might have said please don’t puke on me, or god, you weigh a ton, or how many jaeger bombs did you do?

He had said he loved you - had slurred it, eyes closed.

You had laughed, even though it had sent a dagger through your chest. “Okay, Romeo,” you’d teased, and checked your phone to see if Wonwoo was on his way to help.

“I do,” he’d insisted, one hand patting the grass next to him like he was trying to find you. “Sunny, I love you.”

You didn’t know how he meant it - still don’t know, to this day, because you don’t think he even remembered saying it and you’d been too afraid to bring it up.

What were you supposed to say? Hey, when you were blacked out last night, you said you love me… do you mean like… platonically… or…?

God. The idea of it is just as humiliating now, years later, as it had been in the weeks that followed that night. And though he’s said it regularly since then - like on this fucking card with the sunflowers - he never said it like that, and you never pushed it.

Now, awake and furious and sad at three in the morning, you grab your phone and climb out of bed.

You know you shouldn’t. You know it’s only making this worse for you. But you make your way on light steps through the dark and silent apartment to Mingyu’s door and push it open.

Is it mithridatism, this thing you do? Microdosing on the poison so that a full dose won’t kill you? No, that isn’t right. A full dose of Mingyu wouldn’t kill you. It’s an absence of Mingyu that you need protected from.

You climb into his bed and poke at his calves with your toes until he grunts as he wakes. Then, as he gathers his senses, he rolls to look at you over his shoulder.

“Bad dream?” he asks, voice kind of breathy with sleep.

“Mhm.”

He rolls the rest of the way, lifts his arm so you can scoot a little closer. You breathe easier immediately. It makes no sense that the thing that hurts you is also the only thing that makes you feel better.

“Won’t your lover object to you getting in bed with me?” he asks, and you can hear the edge in his voice as clear as day.

You let out a single, wry ha. He’s got a point, but Daeyoung isn’t your boyfriend, you aren’t exclusive, and what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

“Nah,” you say easily. “I’m not his.”

March

March can’t make up its mind if it’s winter or spring. Warm days lull you into a false sense of security, and then a blistering cold rushes in just to call you a fool.

You’re the last one to get to the bar on Friday night after work, and you have to stand awkwardly next to the booth the guys have staked out and unwrap yourself - hat, scarf, gloves, puffer coat, big heavy sweater - before you can actually slide into the empty spot next to Mingyu.

“Hi bestie,” he says, immediately draping his arm behind your shoulders, resting on the back of the wooden bench. “How was your day?”

“Fuck Marcus in Accounting,” you answer.

“Fuck Marcus in Accounting,” your roommates all answer solemnly, because this is a common gripe.

“Fireball and ginger ale it is, then,” Mingyu says, and climbs over you to head to the bar, his own empty beer glass in hand. When he slides the cocktail glass in front of you and scoots back to his original spot, you fill the guys in on Marcus’s Bullshit of the Day.

“And then,” you finish the story, “I was like yeah, I know you did, Marcus, because she blind-copied me on her reply and you should have seen the color his face turned so I think it’s fair to say I won this round.”

“I’m surprised they aren’t all scared of you,” Wonwoo remarks.

“Marcus is,” you say, glowering at your now-empty cocktail glass. “That’s why he’s such a dick. He hates that he’s intimidated.”

Mingyu’s arm has slid down from the back of the bench and rests lightly across your shoulder by this point, and he gives you a playful squeeze into his side as he laughs.

He starts telling a story next, and you listen as you slip your phone out and check your texts. Daeyoung had texted you a while ago, and you shoot him a quick answer that you’re out with your roommates for Friday drinks, and then dial back into the conversation.

When Mingyu’s glass is empty again, you rise, taking the empties up to the bar and signalling for another of each. While you wait, elbows on the bar, you check your phone again. Daeyoung had texted back, asking where you guys were drinking.

You hesitate. The idea of incorporating Daeyoung into the group makes you nervous. Behind you, you can hear Mingyu yapping a thousand miles a minute, and Jeonghan’s distinctive heh heh heh in answer. It’s not that you don’t think the guys will be nice… it just feels like a big move.

It might be nice to have him there, though - someone on your side when Jeonghan and Mingyu gang up on you and Wonwoo is too in his own world to be effective back-up, someone to hold your hand and get your drinks, someone to be in your own private little bubble with when the conversation ebbs and flows away from topics you can engage with.

You send him back “just a little place by the apartment!” which is technically true, and then grab the refreshed drinks for you and Mingyu.

The guys are getting up, making noise about a just-vacated darts board, so you swivel and turn to follow them, a cold drink in each hand.

“Sunny Baby,” Mingyu tells you, half an hour later, bending down low so he can talk close to your ear over the loud music, “you have to put more muscle into it. You have to throw it like you want to pierce it.”

“I don’t think it’s that serious, actually!” you tell him cheerfully, and down the rest of your drink, pushing the empty glass into his giant hand. His turn.

He shoots you a grin so sharp and devilish that it makes your whole body fight a shudder, and then he disappears off to the bar.

You heckle Jeonghan through his turn (unsuccessfully - he’s way better at this than you) and then glance at the bar to see if the bartenders have gotten to Mingyu yet in the crowd. He’s facing you, his arms crossed, that same devilish smile on his face. He leans sideways on the bar, where your drink and his own beer sit sweating, forgotten.

The girl he’s smiling at has her back to you, which is a miracle, because if she’d been able to see your face fall, she probably would have back-pedaled out of the conversation immediately - it would be impossible for her not to see that she was walking into a flashing neon sign screaming this situation is a mess!!!!

When she laughs, throwing her head back, and reaches a hand out to touch his forearm, you feel the whole bar swoop sideways around you. You’re fumbling for your phone, even as you hear Mingyu’s answering laugh cut through all the loud music and conversations filling the space, even as you watch through your periphery as he gives her a return nudge to the shoulder, playful, that smile only growing.

You’re going to be sick.

You shoot Daeyoung a text - sorry, I should have told you which bar. I’m leaving now though. Do you want to come get me? We could chill for a little? - and then you push your way through the bar, not even bothering to tell Jeonghan and Wonwoo goodbye. You make an extra effort to skirt the opposite wall as the bar, hoping you get out without Mingyu spotting you.

There’s no way you could fake it right now. Zero chance. If he came after you, it would all be out in the open.

Daeyoung answers you almost immediately - no worries! sure, send me your location. you want to hang at my place?

Outside, the cold air assaults you. You immediately hesitate, wishing you’d grabbed your coat. You’ll get pneumonia waiting for Daeyoung without it.

You’re saved the trouble of going back in - the door opens and someone comes out after you. But it isn’t Mingyu - it’s Jeonghan, giving you the heaviest side-eye you’ve ever seen from him, your coat in his hands.

“Thank you,” you breathe when he’s close enough, taking the coat and sliding it over your arms. “It’s freezing.”

“Sunny,” he says, and something in his voice makes you pause. “I think we should talk.”

You cover your face with one hand, embarrassed and spent and tired. “About what?” you ask flatly, just to buy yourself a second. You know the answer. Of course you do.

He levels you with a look. “This can’t continue,” he says firmly. “For you, or for him, or for me and Wonwoo.”

You scoff. “What do you two have to do with it?”

You’ve never seen him this serious, and it scares you a little. “Do you think it’s easy for me to watch you get hurt?”

You lower your gaze to the ground and don’t answer this; it feels rhetorical.

“But you’re right - it’s not about us. It’s about you. Something has to give,” he says gently. “Either face it and get your answer, or let it go.”

“It’s not that simple,” you argue.

“Yes, it is that simple,” he retorts. “It’s just scary. But that’s not the same thing.”

“I can’t tell him,” you say, because it’s true. You can’t. You can’t. “What if it messed up everything for all of us?”

What if you lost him completely? What if he moved out? What if he stopped talking to you?

Jeonghan doesn’t reply to this at first, he just watches you carefully, then tucks a long strand of dark hair behind his ear.

“You can,” he says finally, still gentle. “But… if you won’t… then you have to let him go.”

Your stomach drops at the words, even though this is a truth you’ve been aware of for ages, have been doing your best to avoid.

“I don’t know how to do that,” you whisper. And it’s true - loving Mingyu feels as instinctual as your heartbeat, intrinsically part of who you are. How can you separate it out, shut it down?

“Stop sharing a bed with him,” Jeonghan suggests, and it’s so simple and straight-forward and correct that you can’t think of a single argument. “Quit texting him but ignoring everyone else. Stop cuddling with him on the couch after work. Quit-”

“Alright, I get it,” you snap, the defensiveness rising up again like muddy waters.

“I’m not sure you do,” he says, and the gentleness is gone from his tone; you’ve moved into the Tough Love section of the lecture, apparently. “You can’t keep playing house with him, pretending you’re together, and then falling apart every time he makes it clear that it isn’t real. You’ll never feel better like this. It will never change, Sunny. You’ll be like this, forever. Is that what you want?”

Your throat is tight and sharp, and you blink quickly, eyes on the ground again.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and he says it like he aches. Maybe he means it. “You could talk to him, you could at least see what he says -”

“No,” you interrupt. “No. I can’t do that.”

He shrugs, big and exaggerated. “Then move on. There are other people in the world who’d be happy to love you the right way. You can’t give any of them a proper chance if you’re holding it against them that they aren’t Mingyu.”

Like the one you ignored all night, who is still on his way to pick your ass up right now…

You push your hands against your eyes like you can block out the truth of what he’s saying, but you don’t say anything.

Jeonghan reaches out and rubs your shoulder. “I’m gonna go back in,” he says, gentle again. “It’s freezing out here. Just… think about it.”

“I’m thinking,” you say dryly.

He nods, then disappears back into the bar, the wave of sound crashing and fading as the door opens and closes.

You stay outside and wait for Daeyoung’s car, your hands going numb from the cold. You run the whole thing over and over in your head, replay Jeonghan’s words, daydream a hundred conversations with Mingyu each with different endings.

You think maybe you should take Jeonghan’s advice - put some physical distance between you and Mingyu, just as a starting point.

You hate the idea of it. But you know he’s right.

When Daeyoung pulls up, you slide into the passenger seat and tell him thank you, leaning over to kiss his cheek. He smiles at you, all sweet, and then whisks you away. Halfway to his place, he glances over at you.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he observes. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you lie, and then instantly feel bad for it. “Just… argued with my roommate. I’m kind of cranky.”

He reaches out and squeezes your knee once, reassuringly. “Well, you’re welcome to stay with me,” he says, and when you whip around to look at him, he laughs. “I wasn’t being presumptuous. I just meant if you needed some space from them, you’re welcome. That’s all.”

“Yeah, okay,” you repeat, settling back against the seat. “We’ll see.”

You keep your eyes on the window for the rest of the drive.

You wonder if Mingyu brought that girl home, and then you shove that thought away, because you’re letting him go, starting tonight, and those thoughts aren’t going to serve you anymore.

And then you wonder the same thing again five minutes later.

–

April

Winter softens, the temperature sturdies itself, and the season forms solidly into rain-logged spring.

“Sunny Baby,” Mingyu sings. Even on the greyest, soggiest days you turn to him like a plant turns to sun. “I’m bored.”

“That sounds like a personal problem,” you quip.

He drapes himself over you in retaliation, long arms and legs hanging heavy towards the floor as his torso smothers your face, drowning in you in his cinnamon-tinged scent.

You protest wordlessly and shove at him, and he laughs, his abs working near your chest with the motion.

“Entertain me,” he whines.

Things have been different - weird different, sometimes even bad different - for a few weeks now, all because of Jeonghan. You choose to blame him, anyway.

What he said to you plays in your head on loop all day every day, and suddenly you don’t know how to act right with Mingyu, causing you to overcorrect and swerve wildly. Sometimes you’re spending the entire day with him, touching and talking and leaning into it - then you think about it too hard and you spend the next two days icing him out.

It’s confusing for both of you. You can tell he notices, can tell he’s baffled by the change. More than once you’ve caught him looking at you like you’re a problem to solve - that face he makes when something isn’t working, or he’s got an equation of some sort to work out. But he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t make you feel bad about it, doesn’t confront you, just takes what you’ll give him with a smile.

You haven’t gone to his room in the middle of the night since your talk with Jeonghan, either. It feels like quitting something. The withdrawal eats at your nerves, the cravings taking over until you can’t focus on anything else. More than one night since then you’ve laid awake, staring at your ceiling, heart pounding as you argue with yourself - just go, you’ll sleep and you’ll feel better waging war against Jeonghan’s you can’t keep pretending you’re together and then falling apart when he makes it clear that it isn’t real.

Each time, you’d ended up staying in your own bed. Jeonghan is right. You knew it when he said it, and you know it now. You have to let go if you’re ever going to be happy. You can’t keep living in the shadows of Mingyu’s life, waiting for him to come give you just a slice of himself and pretending to be sated by it.

“I can’t entertain you, you pain in my ass,” you say, as he allows you to roll his heavy body off of yours and onto the other side of your bed. “I have a date with Daeyoung in like an hour. I need to go shampoo.”

“Booooo,” he complains. Then he props himself up on one elbow and gives you that familiar look again - the math problem look. Not calculating, exactly, but definitely evaluating. “You’ve been seeing him for a while,” he remarks, and you can hear the effort to keep his tone casual, which makes you wonder what he’s hiding.

“Like four months,” you say, not sure if this is agreeing with him or not.

He nods, then rolls to face your ceiling, arms behind his head. It does disgusting things to his biceps, and you look away, sitting up and reaching for your phone to check the time.

“How’s that going?” he asks, still all casual.

“Good,” you say airily, still not looking at him.

“Sunny,” he says, a bit more seriously, and it’s enough to make you glance his way. He’s facing you, arms still behind his head, but watching. “Why won’t you talk to me about it?”

Ice flows through your veins so quickly that you have the urge to blow on your fingers to warm them. Talk to me about it. You take a calming breath, remind yourself that he’s asking about Daeyoung, not about your feelings in general.

“I don’t know,” you say with a shrug. “Just feels weird.”

“It didn’t used to,” he says, and you know exactly what he means. You’d always talked to him about anything - including boys and crushes.

He doesn’t ask so what’s different now, but you know the answer anyway. You’re afraid you’ll say anything, and Mingyu - who knows you better than anyone else - will hear everything you aren’t trying to say. How you feel about him, how you’ve been trying to create distance and boundaries, how it’s been unsuccessful because you have no sense of consistency, how you can’t seem to accept that you don’t get to have him, how Daeyoung is so nice and fun and cute but still can’t silence the urge behind your ribs that screams for Mingyu.

“Yeah,” you sigh, acknowledging that he’s right - that you used to tell him everything. “I don’t know, Mingyu. It’s good. I like him. Like… I don’t necessarily think he’s The One or anything, but I’d be upset if we broke up?”

Mingyu nods, something complicated on his face. “Well,” he says finally, “That’s good. I’m glad it’s going well. You deserve it.”

There’s something flat in his voice, and you stand because you can’t just sit there next to him right now.

“Thanks,” you say, because you don’t know what else to say. “Well… I’m gonna go shower so I’m not late.” You grab the few things you need from your room and pause in your doorway. He’s pulled out his phone, his thumb swiping slowly and his eyes on the screen, and you carry on across the hallway, leaving him behind.

The way you need to. The way you’re trying to.

Daeyoung takes you to dinner, making you laugh so hard you have to wipe under your eyes, and listening intently when you bitch about work (and, yes, Marcus in Accounting).

After, as you walk along the river, looking out at the lights, Daeyoung reaches for your hand, and you link fingers.

This is what you need - to lean into it with someone, to really try with someone. Maybe that will ease this process of shifting Mingyu to the background. Maybe you just need to try.

Like he can read your mind, Daeyoung slows, turning to look at you. He says your name hesitantly, and you match his slowed pace, waiting.

“We’ve been doing this for a while,” he says, kind of hesitantly, “and I kind of wanted to see if we’re on the same page.”

When you just look at him, he forges ahead, the words rushing out of him now. “I really like you, and I really like this… and I was wondering how you’d feel about… maybe being more official?”

You feel yourself flush, a smile tugging at your lips. “Are you… asking me to be your girlfriend?”

He smiles back, relief washing over his face. “Yeah,” he says, much more confident now. “Yes, I am.”

You lick your lips, suddenly unsure. “Daeyoung,” you say, and you watch his face fall. You hurry to amend - “No, I’m not saying no! It’s just… I don’t know… I feel like we’ve kept things pretty… light. And I just worry that if we get more serious and you see more of me… you might…”

You trail off. He watches you intently, and then finishes for you, “Change my mind?”

You nod meekly. What if you can’t do it - what if you can’t push Mingyu out of your head and heart, what if you can’t start fresh with someone? Daeyoung has been wonderful to you. He doesn’t deserve to get hurt. He doesn’t deserve to be second choice, doesn’t deserve to be a consolation prize.

You can’t say yes if that’s what this will be. You need to be sure you’re all in, you need to be sure you want him and not just the fresh start he represents.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you say instead, quietly.

He considers this, watching you carefully. “Why do you think you will?”

It’s a fair question. “I’m… trying to get over someone,” you force yourself to say. He deserves to know what he’s walking into.

You watch his face for any change in expression. His expression does ripple a little, and then he licks his lips and asks, “And how’s that going?”

You scuff the toe of one shoe absently along the pavement. “Goes better when you’re around,” you admit. “But I don’t want to be… like… using you, I guess? It feels… unfair.”

He nods. “I appreciate that,” he says, looking away from you, at the river. He’s quiet for a while and then asks, “Are you into this? With me?”

“Yes,” you say emphatically, because despite the Mingyu of it all, it’s true. “I just don’t want you to end up with regrets.”

He smiles kind of ruefully. “Thanks for being honest,” he says, brushing the back of your hand with his thumb.

“What are you thinking?” you ask in a whisper. You really hope you aren’t breaking up right now, but you wouldn’t blame him if he called it off.

He lets out a long breath, very slowly, measured. “I’m thinking that no one can make promises at the beginning of a relationship.”

Your stomach jolts, terrified, at the word. He continues, oblivious.

“But,” he says, “you just take it a day at a time. That’s all I’m asking for - just a day. And then maybe another. We can go from there.”

You consider this, that tiny smile returning. He waits for your answer.

“Okay,” you say finally. “Yeah. If you’re sure you want that, then… yes.”

“Yes?” he repeats, like he needs to be sure. He’s already grinning, despite the turn the conversation had taken on the way here.

You laugh, feeling suddenly shy. “Yeah. Yes.”

He kisses you next to the singing river, and later you take a selfie together beside a food cart. You post it to social media with a blue heart emoji for the caption.

You swallow hard and swipe roughly to remove the notification when Mingyu likes the picture minutes later.

–

May

“Kim Mingyu!” you bellow, scooping up an armload of shirts and socks from the living room floor. “Get your gross, sweaty clothes off of our shared couch! The hamper is like three feet away!”

“Yah,” he complains, coming to take the offending pile from you. “You never cared before!”

“Well now her boyfriend is coming over,” Jeonghan says, somehow making the word sound sleezy. “She wants it to be pretty in here.”

“I hate you both,” you say. “I only like Wonwoo. He’s my only friend. Wonwoo, you’re my only friend.”

Wonwoo gives you a very deadpan finger heart from his spot on the couch.

Unfortunately, Jeonghan is kind of right.

You’ve mostly spent time out with Daeyoung or at his place - mostly because he lives alone and you live with a cast of clowns. But he has come over a handful of times. Sometimes he’s only there long enough to stand awkwardly by the front door while you finish putting on jewelry and shoes before whisking you away; other times he’s stayed to eat take-away and watch a movie as the aforementioned clowns filter in and out, leaving snappy comments like use protection in their wake.

Tonight’s the first time that the plan is for everyone to hang out. To say you’re nervous is an understatement, as evidenced by the uncharacteristic way you pace the house, adjusting items Daeyoung has already seen out of place as if it makes any difference.

“Sunny Baby,” Mingyu finally says, coming up and putting his hands on your shoulders, trying to still you. You pull back from his touch as gently as you can, trying to make that space with some subtly. “Why are you freaking out? He’s been here before.”

“Yeah, you’re right, why would I be nervous?” you ask sarcastically. “Why would I be nervous to have my boyfriend come over for games and movies with three notoriously very nice people who never make trouble?”

“Rude,” Wonwoo remarks from the couch.

“Not you, Wonwoo, you’re my only friend,” you tell him without even turning your head. You hear Jeonghan snort.

“You said three,” Mingyu points out seriously, stepping back from you like he silently got the memo about space. “That includes Wonwoo.”

“Fine, I retract my statement. Two people who make trouble, and then one person who knows how to be normal sometimes.”

A knock on the door interrupts you before anyone can push your buttons any further.

“Be nice,” you tell them sternly as you head to open the door. “Be normal. For the love of god, at least try.”

“She has no faith in us,” Jeonghan says sadly behind you.

“We probably shouldn’t try Monopoly tonight,” Mingyu remarks, and you hate that he’s right.

You all almost broke up over Monopoly, once. You never played again.

“Yeah, put that one away,” you agree, as you pull the door open.

Daeyoung greets you with a smile and a small bouquet of flowers - nothing too fancy, just a little something. You pay for them with a smile and a kiss, lifting onto your tiptoes to reach his lips.

“Awwww, so cute,” Jeonghan coos from across the apartment.

“Jeonghan,” you say sharply. “What did we talk about?”

Daeyoung feigns a pout. “You don’t think we’re cute?”

You slap at his arm playfully and step back to let him in. You head to the kitchen to find a vase for the flowers, listening as the men all exchange heys and how’ve you beens.

You all settle for a variation of Rummy, sitting around the kitchen table with a smattering of snacks and drinks, chatting easily as you play.

At the end of the second hand, you ask, “Wait, what does that put me at?”

“Sixty-two,” Daeyoung says, just as Mingyu says, “Sixty-three.”

You look at them both blankly. You and numbers don’t vibe.

Jeonghan looks at the little note on his phone where he was tallying scores. “Sixty-three,” he confirms.

“Whoops,” Daeyoung says apologetically. “I wasn’t trying to short you on points, sweetheart.”

All three of your roommates stiffen, and you feel your face heat. “No worries,” you say quickly, reaching to cut the deck for the next hand. “Whose turn is it?”

Be normal, be normal, be normal, you mentally beg the clowns.

“I think it’s mine, sweetie-pie,” Jeonghan deadpans. You kick him ferociously under the table, not even trying to be subtle, and he swears.

“Knock it off,” you growl.

“You’re upsetting pookie, hyung,” Mingyu says somberly.

“I hate all of you,” you whine. And then, on instinct, “Not you, Wonwoo.”

Daeyoung looks around the table, amused. “Is this always how it is around here?”

“Basically,” Wonwoo admits. “Just usually with a lot more -” He stops short, coughing, and reaches for his drink. You all wait, your heart thrumming nervously. You’re sure he’d been about to drop a crack about you and Mingyu’s physical affection. “A lot more yelling,” he finishes. “This is everyone on their best behavior, because Sunny threatened us.”

Daeyoung laughs, and you pray that the moment went unnoticed. You can tell Mingyu is a bit still on your other side, and if it was a month ago you would have reached over to him already, soothed a hand down his arm or pressed your cheek to his shoulder until he untensed. You rest your hands in your lap, instead, eyes on your cards.

After Rummy, which Jeonghan wins by a landslide, you all head to the couches for a movie. Your roommates and you have always had unspoken “spots”, but Daeyoung’s presence throws the balance off entirely. Normally you’d be next to Mingyu but he takes Jeonghan’s spot, leaving the other guys to buffer as they try to figure out a new arrangement.

“Here,” Daeyoung says, tugging on your wrist until you settle on his lap, legs hanging just off the side of his own, “we can make room.”

Jeonghan tosses you a small blanket and a wink and settles in on the far side of your couch, giving the two of you lots of room. Wonwoo flicks off the overhead lights and settles next to Mingyu, the two of them awkwardly squished on the two-seater. But, blessedly, no one complains as the opening score emanates from the sound bar.

As the movie begins, you relax, leaning sideways against Daeyoung’s chest, his arms looped around you. You stomp down on the intrusive thought that wants to compare how comfortable this is to how comfortable you’d been with Mingyu for past movie nights, internally hissing at your own brain for the unwelcome thought.

“You good?” he murmurs, voice low, only for you, one hand rubbing the small of your back lightly.

“Mhm,” you assure him, reaching up to kiss the edge of his jaw, the only bit of him that you can reach comfortably. He smiles down at you, endeared, and then turns his attention to the television again. You can feel someone’s eyes on you, but you refuse to look, refuse to give attention to whoever is trying to heckle you right now. They can’t just let you live, huh?

Halfway through the movie, Mingyu stands, moving out of the way of the screen quickly and heading to the kitchen. You don’t lift your head from Daeyoung’s check, just watching him go through the corners of your eyes.

“Anyone need a drink?” he calls from the kitchen. “Hyung? Sunny Baby?”

Daeyoung physically recoils, his head snapping back so he can look at you, wide-eyed. You look back at him the same way, feeling like you’ve been caught at something.

“It’s just habit,” you say, quietly, and Jeonghan turns away, shifting awkwardly next to you two. “Old nickname from a million years ago.”

Daeyoung nods, but his face is still a bit stricken.

“Hello?” Mingyu calls from the kitchen. “Beer? Anyone?”

“No, thanks!” you call back, trying to force your voice to come out cheerful.

When he returns, flopping unceremoniously into his spot next to Wonwoo, Daeyoung’s arms tighten around you.

You close your eyes, frustrated. You hope you can salvage this. You’d been afraid from the jump that the Mingyu factor - even with the changes you’ve been purposely making, all that space - would damage what you have with Daeyoung, as effective as a drop of ink in a bucket of water.

When the movie ends, Wonwoo gives a polite goodbye and vanishes into his lair and you lead Daeyoung back towards the front door. Behind you, you can hear the tell-tale clicks of bottles as Jeonghan and Mingyu start picking up the food and drinks.

“I’m sorry,” you say, as soon as you have some semblance of privacy in the entryway. “I knew hanging out here was going to be a mess.”

Daeyoung manages a smile. “It wasn’t a mess,” he says. “I just didn’t realize how close you all were.”

He’s being too nice. You feel terrible.

“I think we might get less close very soon if they can’t get their shit together,” you grumble, which makes him laugh, some of the tension alleviating.

“Well,” Daeyoung says, suddenly turning conspiratory, “while your place was very fun… what would you say to some fun at my place now?”

You giggle. “I wouldn’t hate that plan,” you say coyly, smiling up at him. “Quieter, there. Fewer clowns.”

He laughs again, even as he reaches to tilt your jaw up, shuffling you backwards against the entryway wall as his lips find yours.

As the kiss warms you, your hands finding the front of his shirt and bunching it into your fists, heat beginning to trickle out of hiding in your belly, you hear footsteps and an abrupt, “Oh - shit - sorry - my bad -”

“Your place,” you say against Daeyoung’s lips as Mingyu retreats back to the kitchen. You can practically feel through the wall how red his ears are.

Daeyoung lets you out of his embrace and you hurry to your room to toss a few things together - toothbrush, phone charger, clothes - and come to get your jacket.

“Bye, idiots!” you call through the apartment. Then, “Not you, Wonwoo!” and you close the door behind you with a giggle, following Daeyoung down the stairs.

On the other side of the wall, safely hidden in the kitchen, Mingyu stands staring blankly at the pantry, one hand over his mouth, still as a statue. What is this feeling churning in his gut? He feels sick, and he can’t put a name to it but he hates how it crawls through his system.

Jeonghan appears next to him, placing two more dirty cups in the sink. He lets out a single, wry laugh when he sees Mingyu standing there.

“Yeah, dude,” he says easily as he leaves again. “Sucks, doesn’t it?”

–

June

You and Mingyu lay side by side in the grass, a late spring night unfurling with distant thunder and a smattering of fireflies lazily drifting through the trees beyond the garden. His arm brushes yours and you can hear his breathing as he exhales slowly.

You feel happy - you feel infinite - you feel like one of those distant cracks of ferocious thunder. You feel like you could lay here next to him in silence and be happy until your joy has to burst from you, just like the clouds on the horizon.

“Mingyu,” you say, turning to look at him. The grass tickles your cheek.

“Sunny Baby,” he responds, voice low, like he’s telling you a secret. “I love you.”

You wake up with faint tear-tracks on your cheeks, and you growl out a frustrated breath.

“I need a lobotomy,” you grumble, wiping at your cheeks and trying to get comfortable again, hoping to go back to sleep - with less ridiculous dreams.

It doesn’t happen. You flop from side to side over the course of half an hour, and then give up. You reach for your nightstand to see if you have any water, but there’s nothing but your phone and the lamp. With a sigh, you push yourself out from under the blankets and pad into the kitchen.

You’re letting a glass fill with tap water when you hear one of the other doors down the hallway open. You turn, peering through the moonlit living room, to see who else is up. The clock above the stove says it’s four in the morning.

“Sunny Baby,” Mingyu says, his voice rough with sleep. His hair is sticking up in the back. Your stomach lurches with the sick desire to smooth it down. “Why are you up?”

“Had a bad dream,” you lie. It was a good dream. Nothing bad about it until you wake up and feel guilty because of Daeyoung, and angry because your brain and heart are holding you fucking hostage. “Couldn’t get back to sleep.” That part’s true.

“Poor Sunny Baby,” he croons, coming closer, the darkness making his form seem even bigger. “Come on - we’ll get comfy.” Just like we used to, he doesn’t say.

Your heart slams against your chest. “Oh,” you say softly. Because, yeah, a few months ago you wouldn’t have even needed him to invite you - you would have been there already, snuggling into the space next to his ribs, breathing him in until sleep returns to you. “Mingyu, I can’t.”

The blanket of darkness makes him bold. He scoffs, not even trying to hide it. “Why not? Because of that guy?” Like he doesn’t know Daeyoung’s name, like the last five months never happened. That guy.

“Because I want to respect my relationship?” you correct gently. “Yes, that’s why. It wouldn’t be right, and you know it.”

You stand in silence for a moment, barely able to see each other across the darkened space, at an impasse. Then, he scoffs again, lighter this time.

“Fine,” he says, moving past you towards the bathroom - probably the reason he was up in the first place. “Suit yourself.”

When he passes back through the living room on his way back to bed, you’re curled up on the couch under one of the blankets, the tv on with the sound turned low. He doesn’t even look at you as he turns down the hall and shuts his bedroom door behind him. You hear the lock click. You press your hands to your face and will yourself to breathe deep. Crying over him while asleep is one thing. Doing it while awake feels like a betrayal.

Just one more you can add to your list.

–

“Hey!” you yell across the noisy room. Mingyu turns from where he’s standing near your bedroom door, talking to a few guys who you’ve seen around here but whose names you forget. Seok… something. The other one might be a Chan, you’re not sure. Mingyu lifts an eyebrow, waiting for whatever request you’re going to shout at him.

“Can you get the door for me?” you call, trying to be louder than the music and chatter. Your apartment is bursting with people as Mingyu’s annual summer bash is well underway. You’re at the pong table - your kitchen table, shoved halfway into the living room - a slightly sticky plastic ball in hand. “Daeyoung is here, I can feel my phone going off.”

Mingyu gives you a wordless salute and shuffles off towards the front door, and you close one eye, lean forward as far as the others will let you without calling a foul, and line up your shot.

You sink it just seconds before you feel someone’s hands on your hips. You straighten up and turn to greet Daeyoung with a kiss, firm and confident courtesy of many drinks. The party’s been going for a few hours already, and you and the guys pregamed before the guests started showing up.

“Hi!” you chirp when you part. “Glad you made it!”

“This is a lot of people,” he says back, looking around your living room and kitchen a bit incredulously. “You said you guys do this every year?”

You nod seriously. “We bribe our neighbors. I mean, they’re all invited of course, but we also try to do something nice to make up for the one night of noise. Last year I baked cookies. This year we just went straight to cash.”

He laughs, and you lead him through the throng of people into the kitchen for a drink.

“I’m glad you came,” you say again, as he stands before the open fridge, scanning beer bottle labels for something palatable. He sends you a smile over his shoulder, then picks a bottle and turns. You place the opener into his waiting hand.

“You look good tonight,” he tells you, all glinty, looking at you sideways. You pretend to preen.

“Sunny always looks good,” Jeonghan asserts, breezing in behind you holding a bowl full of chips.

“Are you sharing those?” you demand. “You can’t gatekeep the good ones, Jeonghan. We’ve talked about this.”

“Gatekeep, girlboss, whatever the third one is!” he replies, zipping back out of the kitchen as quickly as he’d come.

Out in the living room, you hear the familiar sound of the karaoke machine booting up. There’s a telltale scraping - the pong table being shoved against the far wall to make more room for jumping around while aiming for that perfect score.

When you and Daeyoung make it into the living room again, Mingyu and one of the friends whose names you forgot are singing together. Mingyu’s all irony, eyes closed in mock passion as he clutches his mic with both hands, but his friend is actually good, voice sailing over the higher notes without error.

“Wow,” you say. “That guy can actually sing.”

One of your friends, a girl you lovingly call Ethel because of the style of grandma glasses she favors, stops in front of you, pushing little plastic shot glasses into your hands.

“Are you the boyfriend?” she asks Daeyoung, somewhat breathlessly. “I’ve been dying to actually meet you. She’s been keeping you a secret.”

“I have not!” you reply hotly, as Daeyoung laughs, introducing himself.

“It’s nice to meet her other friends,” he says, and she rolls her eyes.

“I know, it’s hard to separate her from these guys,” she says. “They deserve a sitcom.”

“I’m standing right here,” you protest.

Jeonghan appears behind you, too close. “We have a little problem in the kitchen,” he whispers.

You excuse yourself, leaving Daeyoung with Ethel - who will hopefully say nothing too incriminating about you and Mingyu’s blurry-lined friendship.

In the kitchen, Wonwoo is kneeling on the floor, his upper body hidden in the cupboard under the sink. When he shuffles back out, the front of his shirt is wet. You can see a bit of water starting to pool on the boards below the cleaning supplies.

“Uh oh,” you say.

Mingyu appears to your left, solid and warm against your arm. Then he crouches, peering under the sink.

“Can I have someone’s phone?” he asks, and you pass him yours. He turns on the flashlight and shines it at the pipes. You watch his face do that thing - that calculating look, the problem-solving look.

“It’s this one,” he says, pointing to something you can’t see under there. “Where’s our toolbox?”

“Great question,” Wonwoo says, mouth twisting as he tries to remember. “Laundry room?”

“I think so,” you say. “I think it’s on the shelf in there.”

Mingyu scoots out from under the sink and disappears into the little nook you all graciously call a laundry room, since it does have a functional door, then reappears with two tools in hand. You don’t know what they are - you’ve never needed to.

You and Jeonghan and Wonwoo stand around him, worried, like you’re waiting for a doctor to emerge through hospital doors to report on the status of a loved one. When Mingyu backs out of the cabinet again, it’s with an air of smugness.

“All set,” he says, one side of his mouth quirking proudly.

“Our hero,” Jeonghan deadpans.

“This is why we keep you around,” you tell him.

“Get the man a shot,” Jeonghan says, swiveling to the collection of bottles on the counter.

Daeyoung finds you on the kitchen floor, using a rag to wipe up any bits of water. Wonwoo and Mingyu both disappeared to change into dry shirts, you think.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you tell him, wiping one last spot and leaning up on your knees to look around for any areas you might have missed. The last thing you need is for someone to slip in here. “The sink broke. It’s okay now, Mingyu fixed it.”

“Well, thank god for Mingyu,” he says, and you look up at him, not sure if you’re imagining the edge in his voice. Are you? Did you project that?

“Well,” you say, “kind of! Because four of us live here, and only one person could solve the problem.”

He laughs reluctantly. “I can fix a sink,” he says, a bit of a pout in his voice.

You stand, returning the rag to the counter. “I’ll make sure to ask you first next time,” you say, leaning up to brush your lips teasingly across his. “I just thought the rent-payer should handle the problem before the guests.”

“I guess that’s fair,” he allows, smiling bigger.

A while later, you find yourself in Wonwoo’s room, leaning against the wall watching somewhat absently as he and one of his friends play a POV shooter game, their brows furrowed in concentration and fingers flying on the controls.

Daeyoung had been with you only moments ago, reporting into your ear on the game’s happening like a sports commentator to make you laugh, but he’d gone to get you each a new drink. Mingyu appears in his absence, and you can tell immediately that he’s sloppy.

“Sunny Baby,” he sings, draping an arm over your shoulders.

You can’t help but smile, even as you try to shift out from under his arm. “Yes?” you sing back teasingly. “Can I help you?”

“Mhm,” he hums. “You can stay just like this.” He wraps his other arm around you, and you laugh, pushing very gently at his chest.

“Mingyu,” you protest, laughing. “Get off me.”

“I will in one second,” he says, smiling cheekily. “You haven’t let me hug you in a hundred years, I have to take advantage now that your defenses are weakened by cheap vodka.”

“Mingyu!” you laugh again.

And then you see Daeyoung in the doorway behind him, face unreadable.

“Mingyu,” you say again, deadly serious now. “Let go.”

Daeyoung slowly reaches to put the two beers on Wonwoo’s dresser and turns, wordlessly retreating down the hallway.

“Damn it, Mingyu,” you hiss, extracting yourself and hurrying to follow him. Daeyoung makes it clear outside and down the front steps before you catch him.

“Daeyoung, wait!” you call, and he finally slows, turning to face you. You jog to catch up, a bit breathless. You’ve had way too much to drink for this kind of confrontation, but you try to get your shit together enough to defend yourself. Or apologize. Or both.

He doesn’t say anything, just raises his eyebrows and waits.

“Don’t -” you start, and then switch tracks quickly. “That was nothing. He’s like that when he’s had too much to drink. He’s just being silly.”

Daeyoung laughs once, sharp and sarcastic. “Don’t lie to me,” he says flatly.

“I’m not!” you protest. “It’s true.”

He shakes his head, swipes his thumb across his phone screen and taps around.

“Don’t leave,” you beg. “I’m sorry. I was trying to tell him to let go.”

He twists his mouth, refusing to look at you. At the far end of the street, you can see approaching headlights. He’s ordered a ride home.

“When you said you were trying to get over someone I didn't pry,” he says flatly, “but I guess I should have. You could’ve had the decency to tell me that you live with him.”

The slam of the car door feels final, the sound passing over you like shrapnel.

The blink of red taillights has just vanished around the corner when strong arms wrap around you. Mingyu must have followed, must have been watching from the door, must have seen it happen.

You’ve been trying to make space, you’ve been trying to stay away, but you’re buzzed and you’re sad and you’re weak. So, you turn in his arms, burying your face in his shirt and letting yourself cry.

He holds you through it, doesn’t say anything to you, just holds on tight until you can breathe again.

“I don’t want you to see this,” you sniffle finally, and he lets his arms drop, stepping back so he can look at you. “This shouldn’t be you.”

“That’s fair,” he murmurs, sounding much more sober than he had inside. “But I’m the one who’s here. Tell me you want me to go, and I will.”

Your heart cracks.

“I don’t want you to go,” you whisper.

“Okay,” he says, wrapping you up again, leaning his chin on the top of your head and swaying you a little bit. “Then I won’t.”

Eventually, you both lay in the grass. You don’t want to go inside, and Mingyu says he doesn’t want to leave you alone in the front yard. Instead, you lay side by side, far enough away that you’d have to stretch to touch. It feels like that night in undergrad, but also completely opposite. In your memories of that night, you felt warm and good like your place in the universe was guaranteed, your cog in the great machine fitting perfectly and spinning without difficulty. Tonight, you feel off, cold and angry, like your piece has been displaced and can’t fit anywhere anymore.

“I’m sorry,” Mingyu says, breaking the silence. “I didn’t mean to make problems for you guys.”

“I know you didn’t,” you allow.

“It was just us being us,” he says, a bit defensively.

“Yeah,” you say slowly. “I think that was the problem.”

He has nothing to say to that.

Daeyoung calls you, much later, when you’re back inside and tucked in your bed.

“Were you sleeping?” he asks.

“Of course not,” you say. “I’m lying awake agonizing over you storming out on me.”

He laughs quietly, and you feel hope bloom behind your ribs. Is this salvageable?

“I might have overreacted,” he admits. “It’s easy to be intimidated by that guy.”

That guy again. What is it with these two?

“You shouldn’t be,” you tell him. “He’s an idiot.”

Daeyoung laughs again. “So am I,” he says.

“You don’t need to worry about him,” you say. “I’ve been really trying to adjust the boundaries of our friendship, and it’s a big change from how we used to be. Usually we do better… Like I said earlier, he was drunk. He just forgot himself, went back to how things used to be.”

Daeyoung is quiet for a second. “I should have let you explain yourself before I left,” he says evenly.

“I’m sorry I put you in that position in the first place,” you counter. “I didn’t mean to. I’m in this with you, Daeyoung. I promise.”

“I know,” he admits. “I know you are.”

You smile into the phone. “Our first fight.”

He laughs again. “Hopefully not one of many.”

“Eh,” you say. “It’s normal. Anyway, I’m glad you called. I would have been a mess waiting to hear from you. Might have embarrassed myself blowing your phone up.”

“Maybe I should have let you embarrass yourself,” he teases.

“It’s like that, huh?” you joke.

“Yes,” he sniffs. “Until I feel better.”

When you finally hang up, you creep through the apartment to pee before trying to sleep. You notice Mingyu’s light is on, though his door is shut. You pause, looking at that sliver of light, and then continue on back to your own bed.

–

July

“Move over!” you giggle, using your hips to scoot Daeyoung out of your way, a wooden spoon in your hand. The simmering stew on the stovetop smells delectable, and you give it a stir, make sure nothing is stuck to the bottom of the pot.

“Ask nicely!” he retorts, but he’s smiling.

Mingyu watches the scene covertly from the couch, trying to keep his face neutral, trying to keep his face tilted towards the tv so he doesn’t get caught watching. Or worse, caught sulking.

You and Daeyoung eat and wash up most of what you used to cook, offer the leftovers to anyone around to hear you (so, just Mingyu), and then leave, giggles and flirting dissipating and leaving Mingyu in a quiet that he absolutely can’t stand.

When you return the next day, trying to look nonchalant with your overnight bag clutched in your hands, Mingyu is at the kitchen table, eating some of the leftovers and watching videos on his phone.

“Hey,” he greets you, pausing the video.

You give your overnight bag a light toss; it lands with a thump over near the couch. “Hey yourself,” you say, heading into the kitchen for a drink. “The food’s good, right?”

“Yeah,” he admits. “Your man can cook, huh?”

“Hey!” you object. “I did most of the work!”

“Hmm,” he says, rising and coming into the kitchen to rinse his plate.

You cross your arms, eyes narrowing. “Hmmm what?”

He shrugs teasingly. “We’ve lived together a long time, Sunny. I have a hard time believing you’re the chef in that relationship. You never helped me cook anything.”

Your eyes narrow even more. “You never asked me to,” you retort, suddenly defensive. “There’s a lot of things I do with Daeyoung because you never asked me to.”

Silence falls on the kitchen like a rockslide.

Mingyu takes one very careful step backwards. “Because I never asked you to?” he echoes, his voice shaking just slightly.

Your pulse races, and you fight a wave of nausea. A Freudian slip if there ever was one.

“That you never asked me to,” you amend firmly.

Mingyu hesitates. Then, “I don’t think that’s what you meant.”

That defensiveness moves inside you like a thing alive, your temper flaring in an effort to protect you.

“Don’t tell me how I feel,” you snap, suddenly pissed.

Mingyu doesn’t rise to the bait, doesn’t match your temper at all. Calm and steady, he says, “So then you tell me. How do you feel, Sunny?”

That rockslide hits you. You can’t breathe, too bruised by the onslaught. All the years of secrets and feelings and broken rules and truths that you knew but pretended not to spill around you, impossible to escape.

“You don’t get to ask me that,” you hiss at him. “Not now. That’s not fair.”

His calm cracks, just slightly, his tone going hard. “What are you talking about?”

“Why now, Mingyu?” you demand. “Why now, when I have someone? Why not any of the years before now, when I was only yours?”

You’re breathing hard, having spat the words like they’re venom, and you wait him out. He blusters, splutters, has nothing to say to this.

Your temper pulls you like a wave, a momentum you can’t fight.

“You don’t know the answer?” you ask sarcastically. “That’s fine - I can tell you: because you had me. You had me, and you didn’t need to share me, and you could still do whatever - or whoever! - you wanted and I’d still fucking be here afterward.”

You know exactly the moment you start crying through the words, because Mingyu’s body jolts, like he instinctively moved to touch you but remembered to stay back.

“And now?” you continue, because you’re on a roll, everything you’ve held in for years finally bursting from you with the fury of a cracked dam. “Now that’s changed. So, what is it? You want your toy back now that someone else is playing with it?”

“Of course not-”

“Fuck you, Mingyu! You sat me on the shelf for too long. I don’t deserve that.”

“Sunny, no,” he tries again. “It isn’t like that. I lo-”

“Yes, it is!” you shout. You’ve never shouted at him in your life, and it actually shuts him up. Tears are still streaming down your face, but you ignore them. “It is, and until you see that, I can’t expect you to change it or fix it.”

You start to storm past him, but you whirl on him, a finger pointed in his direction. “And don’t you dare try to tell me you love me!” you add furiously. “No you don’t. Not the right way, not like this.”

And then you slam out of the apartment, barely remembering to grab your keys off the hook as you go.

–

[5:22pm] You: if i send you a list of what i need, can you please put a bag together for me and leave it in the hall

[5:22pm] (jeong)Han Solo: :( sunny

[5:22pm] You: hannie please??? i can’t go inside. i really can’t.

[5:23pm] (jeong)Han Solo: he’s a fucking wreck

[5:23pm] You: i don’t care

[5:24pm] You: i mean of course i fucking care that’s the whole problem

[5:24pm] You: please? my things?

–

August

August 3

[10:02am] Mingyu: sunny please talk to me

[12:17pm] Mingyu: please let me apologize to you

[12:17pm] Mingyu: i dont want to do it over text but you wont answer my calls and no one seems to know where you are

[12:22pm] Mingyu: you were right. about all of it.

[12:22pm] Mingyu: and you were right that you dont deserve it

[12:22pm] Mingyu: please call me back or come home so i can say this to your face

[5:38pm] Mingyu: there’s one part you were wrong about

[5:38pm] Mingyu: i do love you. the right way. maybe it took losing you to someone to get my ass moving but i loved you way before he was in the picture

[5:38pm] Mingyu: dont ever question that again

[11:04pm] Mingyu: god, sunny, answer your phone!

August 4

[7:43am] Mingyu: you’re killing me

[7:43am] Mingyu: are you happy sunshine???? KILLING ME!!!

[1:36pm] Mingyu: come home

[1:36pm] Mingyu: please

[8:02pm] Mingyu: we HAVE to talk about this, sunny

[11:51pm] Mingyu: i’m not going to give up

[10:23am] (jeong)Han Solo: are you staying with daeyoung for a while?

[10:23am] You: no. my mom’s.

[10:23am] (jeong)Han Solo: ok. im glad you’re with someone who can care for you.

[10:23am] (jeong)Han Solo: we miss you :(

August 5

[8:00am] Mingyu: fine, i’ll say everything over text like an asshole

[8:00am] Mingyu: just know you made me do this!

[8:04am] Mingyu: i fell in love with you in undergrad when you had to take that statistics class that you almost failed. when you saw your midterm score was passing you told me i love you for the first time and i swear to god i almost proposed to you right there. And it never went away. It was never less.

[8:08am] Mingyu: i love you because you wield your attitude like both sword and shield. I love you because you can barely count but you make me feel so stupid sometimes with how clever you are. I love you because you’re beautiful and funny and empathetic and you make me want to be better than i am. I want to be more competent for you, to be able to take care of you and provide for you when you need it. I love you because when i’m sick you take care of me and you let me take care of you when you’re down too. I love you because when i’m with you i feel like someone’s GOT me, someone understands me and has my back.

[8:09am] Mingyu: i cant believe youre making me say this all in TEXT i hate this!

[8:10am] Mingyu: i have more. I have a hundred more reasons.

[8:10am] Mingyu: come home so i can tell you

[11:58pm] Mingyu: goodnight sunny baby. Please come home soon.

You show up to Daeyoung’s unannounced. His face is grim when he opens the door; you haven’t answered his calls or texts in a few days, either. He probably knows what this is.

“Hi,” he says, stepping backwards to make room for you in his doorway. “This is a surprise.”

“I’m sorry I vanished,” you tell him. “Something happened. I’ve been at my mom’s.”

He eyes you warily, like he’s not sure if this is a I got in a car accident kind of something, or a I cheated on you kind of something, and he doesn’t want to react for the wrong one. “Okay…” he says slowly.

“Daeyoung,” you say, after taking a breath to steel yourself, “I care about you, and I like you, and I have real feelings for you.”

“I sense a but,” he says dryly.

You smile sadly. “But I dont think this is fair to you. I shouldn’t be with someone - anyone - until I’m over him or he’s out of my life… and I can’t seem to make either of those things happen.” You don’t need to say which him. You both know. “I wanted to. I wanted to do it right and I thought I was… but I was wrong.”

He shrugs, face blank. “Okay.”

“Daeyoung.”

“What do you want me to say?” he asks, frustration seeping into his tone. “I can't argue with any of that. I can’t change it for you. I can’t be better than him, I can't become him. You’re right, you shouldn’t be with someone else if what you really want is that guy.”

That guy. Again.

“You’re right,” you whisper, looking at your feet.

He lets out a breath. “So, it’s done then?”

You nod miserably. “Yeah. I’m sorry, Daeyoung. I hope someday you can believe that this isn’t how I wanted it to go. You deserve better.”

He doesn’t answer, doesn’t let you go out with any optimism. You and your misery trudge back to your mother’s, fall asleep in your childhood bed.

August 6

[8:00am] Mingyu: good morning ☀️

[8:00am] Mingyu: i have more things to say today

[8:00am] Mingyu: i will give you two 2️⃣ minutes to respond or you get it all thru text AGAIN

[8:00am] Mingyu: and you know how i feel about that.

[8:03am] Mingyu: fine.

[8:03am] Mingyu: you’ve always been so fucking stubborn sunny. just let me apologize to you!

[8:05am] Mingyu: i’m sorry i kept you on hold

[8:05am] Mingyu: you’re right. that’s what was happening. but i didn’t MEAN it like that.

[8:05am] Mingyu: idk if you believe me bc i can’t see your face 🙄

[8:06am] Mingyu: but its true. I just… liked how things were. Youre right… i counted on you always being there waiting for me.

[8:06am] Mingyu: i thought it was okay though… i thought if you wanted it to change you had the power to change it

[8:07am] Mingyu: like, you could have said something to me.

[8:07am] Mingyu: and i dont mean that like its your fault or anything, it was just how i rationalized it to myself. Like if you werent complaining then it must be fine?

[8:09am] Mingyu: i’m an idiot

[8:14am] Mingyu: but i’m an idiot who loves you, and misses you, and wants to do better

[11:59pm] Mingyu: please come home

[12:32pm] You: i broke up with him.

[12:32pm] (jeong)Han Solo: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[12:32pm] (jeong)Han Solo: are you okay???

[12:32pm] (jeong)Han Solo: come home so we can take care of you!!

[12:58pm] You: i cant face him. not yet. im not ready

August 7

[8:00am] Mingyu: good morning sunny ☀️

[8:00am] Mingyu: i’m sorry i took you for granted. even if we walk out of this only trying to repair the friendship, i swear i’ll never let it happen again.

[11:58pm] Mingyu: goodnight sunshine. I love you.

August 8

[8:00am] Mingyu: good morning sunny ☀️

[8:00am] Mingyu: dont work too hard today

[8:00am] Mingyu: dont take any shit from marcus in accounting

[12:12pm] Mingyu: having lunch. call me if you want? it doesnt have to be heavy. Just hello.

[12:39pm] Mingyu: i need you back sunny. in whatever capacity youll let me have.

[11:57pm] Mingyu: hope you had a good day. Goodnight, i love you.

August 9

[8:00am] Mingyu: good morning sunny

[11:58pm] Mingyu: please. Please come home.

–

When you return home, a week after you left, it’s nearly dawn, the light from outside the living room just turning blue enough that you can see the outlines of the couches as you close the door as quietly as you can.

You step lightly, avoiding the spots you know will creak and groan when you step over them. You peer down the hallway to see that the guys’ doors are all shut, no lights on - not even the blues of Wonwoo’s computer monitor.

You open your door and look around; your room looks exactly how you left it, down to the glass of water on the nightstand, now nearly empty. Except… the blankets on the bed are wrong. You set your bag down gently next to your dresser and creep closer, squinting through the dimly lit room.

A dark head of hair peeks out from under your comforter.

You can’t help it - you smile to yourself. For all the things Mingyu is - intelligent, funny, athletic, competent - he’s also a big baby. And he’s sleeping in your bed, because he misses you, and it comforts him.

It makes you want to forgive him for every wrong, press your lips to his sleepy forehead, listen to him lisp out Sunny Baby.

He hurt you, it’s true. But you believe it that he was lying to himself, pretending things were fine. Weren’t you doing the exact same thing? You can’t hope Daeyoung will forgive you for your mistakes if you aren’t willing to do the same, too.

You close your bedroom door and approach your bed. Mingyu stirs, making cricket legs under the blanket and stretching one arm towards the empty side. Towards you, though he doesn’t know it yet.

Then he freezes. His voice comes out paper thin. “Sunny?” he asks, pushing himself to sitting.

“This is not your bed,” you tell him, and he launches himself across the mattress, scrambling to reach you.

You allow him to wrap his gangly arms around your middle, pulling you to him as apologies pour over his lips so fast that he’s nearly babbling.

“Okay, okay,” you laugh, pushing at his shoulders. You back away and he follows like he’s tethered to you, clambering from the bed and standing before you.

For a moment, you just stare at each other through the thick blue of encroaching dawn.

And then he says your name.

Not Sunny. Not Sunny Baby. Your real name.

“I am so sorry - for everything,” he says, the ache in his voice clear and open. Then he drops his voice to a pained whisper. “Please. Tell me I can fix it.”

You press your lips together, looking at him. He looks awful - like he hasn’t slept much, or been eating well. You feel a little bad that you stayed away for so long, but you’d needed the time by yourself. You’d needed the clarity of being alone to figure out what you want.

“I think we can,” you whisper back, since the rest of the apartment is still sleeping. We, because this was on both of you.

He crushes you in a hug, surrounding you in the smell of cinnamon, his cheek pressed to your head. “I’m sorry,” he breathes into your hair. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please let me try and do better.”

“I broke up with Daeyoung,” you respond, and he snaps his mouth shut, stepping backwards to stare at you.

“Why?” he asks finally, hoarse, like he can barely get the word out.

You look up at him. “Because it wasn’t right to be with him. It wasn’t right to be with him when I’ve been in love with someone else the whole time.”

He closes his eyes, his whole body seeming to sag.

“I forgive you,” you say quietly, “and I do believe that things will be better now. If we talk about it - if we’re working together to make it better.”

“Yes,” he says quickly, desperately. “I will - I’ll do whatever I need to -”

“Both of us,” you say again, emphatically. “You were right, this wasn’t just your fault. I let this go on for… years. I counted marks against you but I never once spoke up.”

“No,” he protests, shaking his head. “It was my fault, Sunny, I took it for granted and I should have been loving you, spoiling you -”

You laugh. “I mean, maybe,” you say. “But if I’d talked to you… maybe you would have been.”

“I want to now,” he says. “Can I? Will you let me?”

You smile up at him, and he grins back, taking your smile as an answer.

You reach up and touch his eye-tooth gently with a fingertip. “Your stupid fang is so fucking cute,” you whisper. “It is truly unfair how cute it is.”

He pretends to scowl at you. “We’re having a serious moment, here, Sunshine.”

You smile again, gentler this time. “I love you,” you tell him. “If you want to prove you can do this right… then I’m all in.”

He whispers your name again, then looks at you.

His eyes are molten again, the way they were the night you’d had your only kiss. It’s almost hypnotizing, the strength of his gaze on you, pulling you in wordlessly until your body is flush with his. You look up at him, breathless.

“I’ll start proving it now,” he murmurs, so low you barely catch it, and then his mouth snags on yours, forceful, his hands cupping your jaw gently, a juxtaposition.

He touches you so tenderly, his fingers feather-light against the skin they uncover as you undress each other in hushed silence. It feels holy, somehow.

He licks spices and heat into your mouth, trails calloused fingers down your bare arms, pulls your hips into his as his teeth trace down your jaw, makes sure you feel his want for you.

You slide your hands from his waist up his stomach and over his pecs, revelling in how he hisses and leans into the touch.

“Wanted to do this for years,” he grumbles, like he’s complaining, before lowering his lips to your chest, sucking on supple skin to see how you like it, then doing it harder when you dig your fingers into his shoulders, gasping at the sensation.

“Should’ve,” you scold, even as your eyes close and your head tilts back. “Could’ve been.”

But you aren’t thinking about your wasted time when he kneads both hands in the meat of your ass, or when you slide a flat palm up the length of him, delighting in the weight and heat you find straining against his Calvins. You’re thinking about how his hands are searing, about how you want to taste him but maybe not yet, not this first time. You’re thinking about his fingers sliding between your legs and the belly-deep rumble he makes when he feels how ready you are for him.

And when you finally come together, his mouth pressed to yours as he lays you back on the bed you’ve shared countless times, you’re only thinking about him and his beautiful smile and molten eyes and infectious laugh and empathetic heart. When he’s pushed as far into you as your bodies will allow, his hips tight against you and a whine slipping between his lips, you’re overcome with emotion. As you adjust to him, his eyes trace your face, and he reads what’s there with perfect clarity.

“Love you, Sunny Baby,” he whispers into the crook of your neck.

You swallow against the thick rise of feelings and run your fingers through his hair. “Move for me,” you beg. And when he does, it’s just as perfect as the rest of him.

You press your forehead to his when you come, his thumb rough on your clit and his mouth gasping broken breaths against your lips, pulsing around him in waves so dizzying you think they trigger even more. His hair sticks to his forehead as he presses deep inside you, and he shelters you between mountainous arms as he finally lets go.

Mingyu is sunrise, leaking orange and pink and yellow and white and chasing away a world of purples and blues. He’s so bright you have to squint, a promise of a fresh start, an end to the darkness of night.

He’s perfect. He’s perfect, and you love him, and finally you can have him.

You lay in his arms, heartbeat slowing bit by bit, and feel wholly at peace - like everything finally settled into place, everything landed exactly as it was meant to. Your cog in the universe, spinning correctly at last, grooves fitted perfectly to Kim Mingyu’s.

The peace lasts…. until you check your phone.

[8:26am] (jeong)Han Solo: when you two are DONE…. we went out for breakfast if you want to join 🙄

—

November

“Baby,” Mingyu says, but it’s stern. “Quit fixing the pillows.”

“It has to be perfect in here!” you whine.

Mingyu wraps his arms around you like a cage, squeezing until you’re laughing too hard and drop the throw pillow from your hand.

“They lived with us for years,” he says, entirely too rationally. “You can’t fool them.”

He releases his hold on you so you can turn and pout at him. You’re about to protest - argue that it’s Jeonghan and Wonwoo’s first time visiting you and Mingyu’s new place, that this is momentous, a special occasion - but you’re cut off by an obnoxiously outlandish knock on the front door.

“I’ve got it,” Mingyu tells you. “You just try to relax.”

You will, in just a second. But first, you lean over to the candle you have burning on the coffee table and adjust it just slightly to center the label, which reads Fall Harvest and Cinnamon.

thank you so much for reading!!!!

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fics-lovebot · 4 months ago

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jujutsu kaisen fic recs pt. 3

main masterlist - jjk fic recs pt. 1 - jjk fic recs pt. 2

· · ♡ · · tysm to the amazing creative minds of the writers for giving me sevaral moments of joy reading your creations

these are my personal favs, so pls reblog if you like any of my recs❤️

yuji finds out gojo has a family - ( @kingkonoha ) fluff, lowkey angst, hubby!gojo, dad!gojo, so,,, this made me cry, i love yuji sm he deserves the world :( this is part two and it also made me crY MY MF EYES OUT :))))))))

can´t stop drinking - ( @kingkonoha ) ANGST, death, blood, dad!gojo, husband!gojo, mentions of wanting to die, a curse kills you and your son allegedly but in reality the elders had lied to him all these years, part 2 made me fucking crying

lambent - ( @xo2dee ) kinda fluffy, true form!sukuna, pregnant!reader, heian era customs, hubby!sukuna, a lil cannibalism, THIS NEEDs A KDRAMA

paparazzi´s pov - ( @rayveneyed ) fluff, award winning actor!sukuna, singer!oc, he likes messing around with supermodels but then the both of them meet at a fashion show, next thing you know oc got an anklet with his initials in garnet AÑDLJSÑFDLJ i really like this, would love to see a longer version

mangoes - ( @sttoru ) fluff, pregnant!reader, hubby!sukuna, tru form!sukuna, SOOO CUTEE, this acc had me giggling and kicking my feet

nanami drabbles - ( @sugurizz ) pwp, pls yall readdd part 2 and part 3, its crazyy

fifteen minutes - ( @roseglazedlens ) nanami smut. “Say that again. Louder. Can’t hear shit with the sound of my dick slapping into your cunt.” that´s all I have to say, your honor

protective - (@kingkonoha ) headcanon, hubby!kento, my man my man my man my man i love thissss

the horniest - ( @arminsumi ) gojo smut, ITS SO GOOOOOOOOOODDDDDD, he´s horny af, pussy drunk, obsessed, borderline crazy for that wap

phone calls - ( @kingkonoha ) slice of life, hubby!gojo, dilf!gojo, his wife and his daughter are his only priority, this is so sdkfjskdjfh :´( i love it

jock bf!yuuji - ( @tteokdoroki ) smut, fluff, all-star jock!yuuji, weird gf!reader, college au. one thing about me, i LOVE jock!yuuji. READ THIS AS WELL PLEASSEE

In denial - ( @rosesaints ) smut, sub!yuuta, "he doesn’t believe that it’s real until you’re actually sinking down onto his cock" period.

protective hubby - ( @slttygeto ) teacher!suguru, pregnant wife oc, it´s cutee

focus - ( @arminsumi ) suggestive, flirty!geto, tutor!geto, “you’re doing so good for me… keep going.” I HATE ITTTTT, i would fold like a mf lawn chair bitch OOF

wap - ( @tonycries ) smut, going in raw for the first time. i caNNOT EVEN BEGIN TO DESCRIBE HOW GOOD THIS IS JUST PLEASEEE GO READ IT

warm heart pastry - ( @cckaisen ) text, fluff, crack, first of all,,, i love yuji, second of all satoru REALLY needs help, and third of all WHY IS INUMAKI ALWAYS ON SOME SHIT??? lmaooooo

love struck - ( @xxsabitoxx ) fluffy, ex-fuckboy!satoru, he´s experiencing love for the first time :((((( IT´S SO CUTEEEEEEEEEE

love dumb - ( @arminsumi ) gojo fluff, blurb, you make him lose his composure, can´t even focus bc you´re over there existing, someone should make a longer version of this! so good

will always be yours - ( @nezuscribe ) smut, fluff, so basically toji only does rough sex, doggy style being his fav, but when it comes to you he prefers the loving-face to face-intense eye contanct type of sex (more like love making) bc being with you makes him feel ten different emotions at once :) DÑFLJSLDFJ

ridin dirty?! - ( @screampied ) smut, mechanic!toji, the beggining had me giggling and blushing sdlfhlsjh, he´s too fucking cocky lmao, writing his number on her asscheeks and stuff

losing his mind - ( @daisynik7 ) smut, dom!reader, hubby!kento, sub!kento, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, WHEEEEEEEEW, 10000/10, now this is new

his protégé - ( @augustinewrites ) fluff, slice of life, fiancé!kento, dinner time with yuuji, it´s so wholesome :´)

insecure bully!gojo - ( @saetoru ) angst, lil fluff, he´s a bully and he´s in love, but its not enough. part 2

best of the best - ( @saetoru ) smut, fwb! satoru, big sHIT talker omg, he lit asks you to be his gf wHILE he´s making you cum,,,,,best bf ever tho

1K notes · View notes

taegularities · 1 year ago

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entertainer | jjk (m)

Summary: Growing singer Jeon Jungkook is as charismatic as he is self-absored – that is, until he meets you. Caught in a web of secrets, he finds a riddle in you he urges to solve; even ready to turn the spotlight towards you until nothing remains… but regret.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: strangers to lovers (or something); angst, bits of fluff, smut!! ➳ warnings: do not fall for this jk i repeat do not f– 🚨 he's kinda hot though; (not so) silent yearning, flirting, a shit ton of sexual tension, sexual fantasies, some jealousy from his side, he is very VERY attracted to her, mystery, oc is a big question mark, full jk pov!, difficult past(s), (mention of) sexual harassment, mentioned past death of a side character, crying, fear, manipulation, confrontation and fighting, aggression, cursing, cocky and selfish kook, overthinking, secrets and revelations, explicit sexual content: kissing, fingering, teasing, drunk shenanigans, sooo much lust, big dick jk, dom jk, oc is odd, oral (f. receiving), spit stuff, handjob, manhandling, orgasm delay, lip ring…, light choking, bit of hair pulling, a spank or two, coming on oc, some cum tasting mmmh, ass stuff, protected sex, rough sex, various positions, masturbation; as always THE ENDING!! lmk if i forgot something!! ➳ wc: 32.4k ➳ a/n: MHMMM, it's finally time!! i experimented with the trope a little; def not a professional when it comes to this genre, but i tried my best. both oc and jk are odd in this one, and you might be on either's side and hate either of them, i can't say :'D very curious tho, so come and drop a message to lmk what you think. let it aaaall out :P <3

➳ listen to the Entertainer playlist! 🖤

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST | WIPs

Jungkook has always wanted an audience to perceive him.

Not just to perceive him, in fact. To worship him.

Jungkook doesn’t consider himself a bad person. Spoiled, a little selfish, but not necessarily bad. He enjoys attention, no matter how temporary or who the giver of it. Feasts on it like an incubus.

What’s wrong with that? Nothing.

Or.

Maybe there is. Maybe he’s coming on too strong.

Because you’re not part of his audience, sitting over there, middle row, middle spot, with your eyes lowered to the notebook. And when you do look up, there’s nothing but indifference in your eyes.

It irks him. Maybe he is a little narcissistic, and maybe he can’t quite deny it after all — but as part of his future team, you should at least fake a smile, right? Display a certain amount of enthusiasm, the joy of working with aspiring artists.

But no.

You’re occupied, scribbling into your notebook. Jungkook, cognisant of the fact that he hasn’t issued much of significance today, understands that you cannot be taking notes of his words. And he also understands that… if that is true…

You’re not granting him as much fascination as he’s used to.

General admiration thrown into the same bucket as his unwavering talent — that he’s well aware of — might just be the reason he climbed up so high in no time. Sometimes, gentle livestreams and vlogs do the trick — locals have found reasons to adore him already.

At times, a good song and strong vocals aren’t necessary to woo people.

Jungkook, however, is insatiable — that’s what keeps him pondering at times. That it’s just the locals, and on an international scale, there’s still much to achieve.

But he’s not a quitter, he’s a conqueror.

And he’ll reach that mind-boggling status of a well-known, global icon, name flowing as naturally through the seam of people’s lips as a still-lying, tranquil lake.

Jungkook knows it’s cocky of him to praise himself to the skies and to rely on his resolute hopes so much. He knows life backfires sometimes, and that endeavours don’t always pay off. He only started as an insignificant city boy, too.

Survived the cruelty of elementary and middle school; shared a room with his brother, relying on him until he grew and learned to finally rule over high school; every single soul at his beck and call. Then, trudged through college before any of where he’s standing even existed.

But he’s here now. And people acknowledge it.

Except you.

And it throws him off his balance. Which is probably why he shortens the end of his speech, close to slurring distracted syllables before he realises he’s forgotten a prepared sentence or two.

No matter; the relevant and main message should have been delivered by now.

So he leans back in a chair in the back, flashing a captivating smile and waits for the applause. Somewhat proud when the praise needs a moment to cease for his manager to reclaim the mic, freeing the metaphorical stage, much in the form of a simple pult, for the CEO of the company.

Taehyung is savvy of how to regain control over a stage; Jungkook doesn’t know whether he fucked up his final remarks, but Taehyung summarises his ideas well. But the clapping does say a lot.

And between those raising their hands to appreciate Jungkook’s speech, you were, too. He knows because he looked directly at you; still is. And when your eyes drift to his, the two of you hold each other’s gazes for at least a couple seconds longer than the others.

And your smile, while present, is somewhat tight-lipped, a bit awkward but confident, too. Odd, as well; hard to explain, but as though you know what you want. As though you have your priorities set straight and cannot be swayed by anything the world might throw at you.

He doesn’t have a word for it. Poised? Self-reliant? Fearless? Can a single look even say this much or is he being delusional?

But this can’t be true, honestly. Nobody is this unperturbed or passive. He’ll find out.

Your stare aligns with his a couple more times over the next minutes, staying there before continuing the journey over the crowd. Jungkook’s eyebrows twitch just a little whenever your eyes pierce into his, so tantalising and deep, big sweet ires, but so conniving at the same time.

He doesn’t know your name, but he’s sure that it defines intrigue. And maybe, just perhaps, it might serve as the synonym for drop fucking dead gorgeous, too.

When Taehyung leads you to Jungkook’s stuffy studio, the latter hears your voice through the open door several seconds before you come in. Or actually, it’s not quite his studio.

More like a collective office that a couple of the newcomers use. Jungkook has been part of this crew a little longer, but he needs the additional success, more prosperity; he’s been told to yield more results to earn his very own four walls. Carrying his signature flavour.

But it’s okay. For now, this suffices…

The stench of coffee and the sound of the AC. The pot and plants that always rest in some corner of the room, courtesy of Taehyung who insists on some colour in the grey-white, small room. Jungkook has gotten used to it all.

Which is why it’s strange, seeing your splendour enter the small space, delighted by whatever Taehyung might be explaining. Your grin is the widest Jungkook has seen since yesterday.

He didn’t get to meet you properly yet, so he can’t say where your humour lies. Nobody introduced you, despite your new position as his very own, personal work partner. A second manager, here to guide and aid him when Taehyung can’t; and apparently, you’ve found some charm in Taehyung that you didn’t see in Jungkook during the stupid meeting.

Not that Jungkook would ever dare to doubt his friend’s appeal, but you’ve stormed into his life like a present, and so silently, too; and he wanted to be the one to open it. To reveal it.

Not Taehyung. Even if it’s his job.

Okay. Calm down. Jungkook sighs. That again.

A motherly blanket of praises and fatherly pats of pride. That’s what’s gotten his head so riled up. He was coddled too much as a child. Made felt special. That’s over now, Jeon, you��re in an industry filled to the brim with competition.

Chill chill chill.

But now?

With that alluring smile staring up at Taehyung, only hints of it left when your eyes move to Jungkook. Fuck.

But Jungkook’s stance remains steadfast and self-assured when he greets, “Hi there. Welcome at last, huh?”

Jungkook notices when your mind snaps out of the conversation with Taehyung and into the one he started; a gentle hand frees your face off your hair to enable a proper view to it. The other is still dug deep in the pocket of your leather jacket, covering parts of the white top underneath.

Semi-long, silver earrings rest right below your ear, against your neck when you tilt your head a little; your expression so respectful and inviting when you smile. Jungkook inhales you in that one split moment, details stinging into the eye without much effort.

And perhaps he’d observe more, appreciate your stunning, obvious beauty and elegance further; but time passes as it does before you finally utter your very first sentence to him, “Hi. Didn’t think I’d ever be saying this, but… thank you for having me.”

That’s sweet.

Your words are reminiscent of the adoration his fans grant him, but your expression is as cool as a refreshing autumn wind. The perfect balance, possibly.

Jungkook gestures to a small couch in the back, right next to the door, but you raise a rejecting hand, claiming, “Been sitting all day observing Taehyung. Need to walk a bit.”

And you do. Deliver a last farewell nod to Taehyung who waves a little, gripping the handle and locking you in the room with the younger man nearly drooling over you.

The hand hidden in the jacket before has emerged, arms loosely folded as you take in the interior of the studio, allowing no more insight into your thoughts than, “Nice.”

Jungkook hums in distracted agreement, standing at the wall, watching you roam around the humble space in small steps. It’s odd, being in here with you; the atmosphere fizzles, a little less like electricity, just a bit more than carbonic acid.

But the moment was to arrive anyway; you’ll be a close link to Jungkook from now on. Of course you need to familiarise yourself with his space, too. So far, you seem to have an opinion on it already.

“Easy to trigger claustrophobia, but,” you walk through the open door to the darker recording room, tapping the mic for a moment, “cosy, too. Very cool equipment.”

“Yeah. I agree.” Pause, eyes dropping to your fingers grazing the stand of the mic. Then, “I would’ve come to you today… or yesterday for that matter, but things were so chaotic and—”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you assure, waving his concerns off, “I could see people rushing around and preparing the moment I got here. I’m probably not the main concern right now among everybody.”

“Nah, that’s not it. We have a great team here.” You step out again, hands folding behind your back until you’re leaning against the wall opposite of him, mirroring his stance. “I’m sorry you arrived at such a stressful time, though.”

“Not your fault. I decided so myself fully knowing you were in the middle of something.”

Ah. So you’ve seen his interviews, read the news. You came here with sufficient knowledge about him, alright.

“Really though,” you continue, blinking slowly, “I’m just glad to be here at all.”

Ah. Yes — about that.

“What brought you to our company anyway?” Jungkook asks, coating his voice in sugar to decrease the risk of unintentional and prying rudeness. “I mean — it’s been a while since somebody joined the main team, is all.”

“Oh. What brought me here…” You slide down the wall just a few inches, staring at your feet before you meet his eyes again. Something flashes in them for a miniscule second, albeit too brief to be caught and analysed. Then, you say, “Sentiments?”

Jungkook gathers words of confusion the moment you utter yours, a question already on his tongue. Has he been here long enough to evoke sentiments in his followers? Or do you veil a whole different connection to this company than he might understand?

Who knows. It doesn’t feel too deep, at least, when you speak again, elaborating when his eyes reveal his bedazzlement before he can, “I mean, I like your work.”

Okay. So much he interpreted; and he must admit — the feeling of pride is a thoroughly unique one.

“I think you’ve been deserving of your growth, and I just,” you speak, shrugging your shoulders, digging one heel into the solid ground, “I could never stop thinking of what I’d say or do if I was here or how I’d try to help, even though I’m not a true musical genius like you.”

This is so excitingly new.

How poised you remain as you talk about your fascination for him; how carefully you choose your words. He’s met fans before, but he doesn’t think any of them has ever practised such control over themselves.

And harbouring such emotions for a tiny little celebrity like him while simultaneously treating him like a human being is an art you’ve well mastered. Despite Jungkook’s urge to feel loved and worshipped to a dependent degree, you’re an incredibly attractive change in pace.

Ugh.

Dependent degree.

Although, he does wonder what you’d be like if you fawned over him.

Jungkook contains the fantasy; suppresses his sigh.

“So,” he starts, “you’re here because you’re a fan.”

“Mmmh. Kind of. My friends started it and then pulled me into this. Honestly, at first I couldn’t imagine ever getting into your stuff.”

Your gaze moved down to your trainers a mere moment ago; whether to hide your expression or give into a habit, Jungkook can’t say. But the honesty surprises him; even stings a little as he voices, “Oh?”

Your head shoots up, lips forming a circle before you imitate, “Oh. Wait. That was… pretty rude.” You seek confirmation or denial in Jungkook’s eyes, and when his slightly wrinkled forehead, tight-lipped smile reveals the answer, you immediately opt for an apology, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“How did you mean it then?”

“Just that.” You fiddle in your position, bringing your digits to waist level. Then, you laugh; a rhythmic sound. “Okay, don’t hate me, but. I was one to judge a book by its cover, and you had this young adult too-confident-too-sly something about you. But your music’s surprisingly sentimental.”

Jungkook halts for a moment, moving his head to side-eye you; producing a hoarse Uhhh before he admits, “I’m not sure whether you’re complimenting me or fully destroying me.”

Another lovely laugh. “I am complimenting you. To be fully transparent, I was probably, uh, biased? Because my friend. They have a knack for usually pulling very questionable men, so I probably just didn’t entirely trust their intuition.”

“Fair enough. I guess?” Jungkook matches the softness of your giggle, nodding towards you, “And now you do?”

“Mmmh, well, we’ll see.”

Jungkook must be stupid. Of course you won’t be able to deduce much from the first meeting yet; perhaps the flirting needs to slow down for just now. You seem the patient kind; much like now, letting the quick silence prevail without much struggle.

No sign of awkwardness surrounds your aura; only a hint of… suspicion? Flashing into your eyes when you let them move through the room again, freezing right next to Jungkook’s head. You’re not looking at him, but at something past him; but you don’t question nor voice anything.

Merely return to his stare with a smile, and he uses the moment to pour some courteous manners into the mix, asking, “Do you want something to drink? Coffee, water? A Red Bull?”

But you immediately raise a hand, shaking your head, “Oh, it’s okay. I’ve already got caffeine flowing there instead of blood,” you slide a finger along your arm, indicating a vein under your layers, “I just mainly came to say hi and to introduce myself. And to ask if I can help anyhow.”

“Ah… well, uh,” Jungkook halts mid-sentence, throwing a look around as though he’s searching for something to appear before he concludes, “don’t think so. I was in the middle of some production work, but don’t think I need much.”

“I see. Okay! Then I’ll leave yo—”

“But,” Jungkook intervenes immediately, adamant on keeping you around. Maybe he can wrap up work earlier today? Bring you home? Probably not — not on Taehyung’s watch. “Maybe you can tell me what you think once I’m done?

“Of course. It’d be my pleasure.”

“Would have an excuse for your company, too, then.”

The laugh that follows is so subtle that Jungkook barely hears it. It doesn’t leave your throat, stuck in there, just a tiny sound reminiscent of amused bafflement.

Jungkook knows his way around words — understands what his utterances and implications usually apply. But somehow, not too many people have been the calmer ones in the room; aside from his superiors at work, not having the upper hand is new to him.

So you set a fuse loose in him; destroy a nerve in his brain, changing up his communication habits. Because he certainly did not mean to say this out loud. And not in such a sense either.

He adds quickly, “I mean, it gets lonely here.”

“Right…” you concur, albeit weakly and with somewhat… entertained mystery in your eyes? He can’t say. It’s as though you’re wearing your face as a mask, undecipherable. “I get it. Even though your studio is cosy enough to enjoy your own company at times, right?”

“Not mine. But we’ll work on that.”

He cards his fingers through his hair, aware that he is probably more than an open book right now; his usual perfect poker face does not work with you.

Why?

Weird.

“Got a couple things here that are mine, though. Yoongi and the others allowed me,” he adds.

“Ah… Like…”

Surprisingly enough, you take another look through the tiny room, possibly trying to detect something you didn’t see before. Regarding details. Then, you settle next to his head once again… and once Jungkook moves his eyes off you for the first time since you came in, he sees what you see.

Which is to say, nothing much out of the ordinary. In fact, the most trivial thing in the room.

“Like that?” you voice, pushing yourself off the wall to near his relaxed body. The scent of your perfume wafts through the room before you’re close enough; tenderly grazing his senses. “What’s that?”

Focus.

Your finger points to the object next to him, hanging at a nail at the wall; dark blue with white letters on it. Pretty mundane, pretty basic design.

“Just… a cap I bought back in college.”

You read out the name, pronouncing it perfectly, yet slowing down as if you’re learning a new foreign term. The sudden inquiry is strange, too: you don’t seem as truly curious about it as your question did; perhaps you’re playing for some time with him, too?

He wouldn’t hate it if you did.

“Do you know that one?” he questions.

You nod; a main hint as to why you wanted to know, yet indicating that the knowledge wasn’t of much significance. You say, “Isn’t it a popular one? I had a few friends who went there.”

“Hm… yeah, I mean. I guess it’s a known one. I got a degree there in broadcasting and entertainment like… four years ago.”

You exhale a barely audible puff of air before you whisper-murmur the most infinitesimal, petite, “Damn,” underscored with one indecipherable tilt of your head. He can’t see your eyes too well, so the reaction remains as transparent as you have been thus far.

Until he raises a thick eyebrow, confusion hidden in a somewhat relaxed yet awkward smile as he wonders, “What?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing, just. It’s impressive how much you’ve achieved in just four years, right?”

“…Well. If you say it like that, it does sound pretty neat.”

The bubble of pride expands alongside his ego; right beneath his chest. Somehow, the feeling changes his posture, makes him feel bigger.

Perhaps you notice what your praise elicits; perhaps you’ve already fathomed his persona that he usually doesn’t dare to reveal this fast. But whatever he conceals with his fans, lies in front of you with an open access.

You make it easy to feel comfortable; he doesn’t need to know you too long to acknowledge this much.

“I graduated not too long ago, too. Three years?”

“Oh… then look at you,” Jungkook compliments, using the moment as an excuse to examine you further; head to toe and back. Your legs are crossed, upper body and face confident, but the position somehow delicate. Hm. “You’re quite awesome, too, don’t you think?”

“I mean— took a while to get here.”

“Right. So what have you been doing during this time since graduation?”

Whatever distraction you have found in the cap seems to break as you silently forage your brain for a response; possibly attempting not to divulge too much. And your answer is accordingly hesitant, though never dubious.

“Saving up? Preparing for life, I guess. And waiting for a good opportunity.”

For what? Do you usually keep your statements in fragments?

He prods, “To do what?”

“Well, to do,” you gesture to the wall in front of you, albeit clearly hinting to the situation, “this. Hoping to change everyone’s lives around here.”

You smile wide, the joke obvious as can be, but Jungkook can’t help but think that you might not be too far off. Unique minds alter brain chemistries; there’s something unforgettable and magnetising about them, and Jungkook steadfastly believes his intuition that you might just be one of them.

For the first time ever, he murmurs your name, delighted by how easily it melts on his tongue. It falls out breathier than he intended to, but when you tilt your head, the intrigue in your pupils inexplicably matches his tone.

He adds to your name, eyelids drooping just a bit, “So… you’ll turn out a long awaited surprise, huh?”

And you, against all expectations, lean in for just a minimal, not too inconsequential moment, hands back in your jacket. It’s a playful, harmless motion as you move back on your heels, then steady yourself again, bodies and faces still far away. You could’ve just as well given him a pat on his shoulder.

But there’s something in the way you look at him, tempted and ominous at the same time. He can’t say what you’re thinking because every feature in your face implies something different.

Even more so confusing what methods for success you came into this company with when you finally say, no pretext or further clarifications, “I really do hope so.”

“Do you come here a lot?”

Everywhere he goes, the lights are bright.

The white walls in the rooms of the company building reflect the sun in the summer and maintain a sense of optimism in the winter. They’re what Jungkook imagines waiting halls before Heaven to look like.

Then the fluorescent vibrancy in his apartment. And the sunlit sky, albeit cold in this winter, giving way to the planetary system’s star through the floating, parting clouds.

Even this modern art museum with its complex design, winding staircases, glass walls and high ceiling. It lets through an abundance of light, unaware of the balance Jungkook usually craves.

Dark and light — a healthy mix.

It’s why he cherishes the comfort of the recording studio so much. Its dim walls and the silence, so unlike the hallways outside of it. Or why he prefers his apartment unlit, often merely allowing the few lava lamps to illuminate his rooms.

But again… it’s only a balance he usually craves.

Today, he doesn’t mind the brilliance.

Because you’re part of it.

Clad in a beige long-sleeved cotton top, slight turtleneck included. It doesn’t fully cover your neck, still revealing a mole similar to his. It’s tucked into your light brown skirt; your legs are covered in sheer tights, crossed. A gentle hand holds the strap of your bag. Light academia at its finest; somewhat soothing, and somewhat radiant.

You look at him with an initially neutral expression, surprised that someone spoke to you, but more relaxed when you realise it’s him.

“Oh,” you voice; the faintest autumn-tinted smile tugs at your lips. “Hey! I, uh…” Your gaze flits to the painting in front of you, then back to him. “Not at all actually. Which… surprising.”

You gesture towards him before you grant him more of your silky voice, asking, “Do you? Come here much?”

Your eyes are indecipherable to him, cheeks dusted in natural make up. All the damn time, you sport this relaxed, unbreakable mask, and he can’t quite guess what you might be thinking about.

It’s so easy with anyone else. You’re like a scene from BBC’s Sherlock, embodying Irene Adler’s mystery.

But maybe your guard can be broken, too.

“Not really,” he admits, “only when pretty people are around.”

A weak attempt, but it makes your eyebrow cock in amusement. He knows you are, because the hint of mischief that scurries over your face resembles his own.

“Ah, and you happen to know when pretty people are around. Or did you follow me here?” you, however, ask.

It’s an obvious inquiry, but weirdly enough, he didn’t expect it. You exhibit the first sign of a proper, humane emotion. Delivering three quick blinks, voice quiet, suspicion swims in your eyes, slightly irritated.

Or even… scared?

You can’t truly be.

So he backtracks, slightly angling his head. He sighs — hiding how much his lungs crave a breath of air. He doesn’t want to scare you off just yet.

“No,” he defends, “of course not. I was just joking.”

“So… I’m not pretty?”

Oh. Oh?

Perhaps he misinterpreted your expression. Perhaps you’re merely a good actress; messing with him as he is with you. The smirk suggests this much, at least.

Perplexed, he holds his breath before letting out a choked laugh; the head tilt and click of his tongue carry a sliver of scolding before he admits, “That’s pretty frustrating, I won’t lie.”

“I’m just kidding, too. It’s a big exhibition. I expected a familiar face here.”

Why is there something so devilish about you?

He can’t say; maybe he doesn’t need to. Maybe it’s enough to join the game, to be just as cocky and see how you react.

Perhaps he’s being selfish and too certain of himself, and in the worst case, he might just be imagining the tension buzzing between you like sparks off an electric fence. But does he have anything to lose, really?

Barely ever.

“Then,” he begins, “is it a good face?”

“All the art around us and you want me to admire you, huh?”

“…The art won’t be mad if you do.”

Jungkook is bold, he’ll admit. He hasn’t always been — he remembers a time spent in the back of classes, preferring to eat lunch alone. Did college tug him out of his shell? Was it senior year?

Then again — did that one kill the timidness in his heart or rather the last shred of humanity?

Maybe his cold matches yours, too. Is that why he feels so drawn to you?

Because you’re as bold as him; you don’t sugarcoat words and thoughts. And Jungkook appreciates the honesty, the ingredient to actual success — even if it’s achingly direct.

Like now.

You uncross your legs; your hips move in an elegant curve, and Jungkook attempts his best to keep his eyes off the arcs of your body. Focuses as you say, “You shouldn’t be flirting with a coworker, Mister Jeon.”

“Wait. I thought we were warming up to each other. Don’t demote me from Jungkook to Mister Jeon now.” You chuckle; that’s something, right? “Besides, I was just conversing. We need to spend all our time together now, so better get along, right?”

Right. Right; of course he’s right.

But… what is that?

It lingers for the faintest of moments, just a glimpse of an unspoken feeling, gone with the next blink. In this crowd of unsuspecting visitors you’re the closest to him physically, but your thoughts are miles and centuries away.

“Maybe you’re right,” you still say, as if whooshing away all unwelcome sentiments, “then I should not… dodge your conversation, right?”

“Sure.”

“Behave, though.”

He’s so confused — but not deep in this enough to question it. So he merely shrugs his shoulder before he responds, “I have been. I can converse, alright.”

“Right.”

“Like… first of all,” he steps closer, raising a hand, gesturing for you to walk on as new admirers of the modern piece approach, “tell me, have we met before? Feels like I’ve seen you somewhere.”

You halt in your steps, but immediately resume to the stroll when a stranger nearly bumps into you. “You’re doing it again.”

He’s honestly not. The aura surrounding you like an ominous fog is omnipresent and eerie, yet… you carry a sense of familiarity. But you’re a presence too distinct to ever forget.

Which doesn’t help his case.

“Yeah,” he still agrees before potentially embarrassing himself, kissing his teeth, “sorry. I’ll stop.”

“Why are you the textbook definition of a fuckboy, honestly.”

“Fuckbo—”

“Nevermind.”

If he wasn’t well acquainted with this little game, he would’ve missed your subtle, nearly veiled intent to tease. But he’s done this a million times before — hence, catches the faint twitch of your gorgeous lips immediately.

You’re enjoying this. So he should join… right?

Yet.

You’re not being entirely insincere. In fact, he hates how he picks up on the note of truth in your velvety voice.

Trimmed nails scratch the back of his head, and he barely notices when the two of you halt in front of another piece. Distracted, he doesn’t bear the art any mind, instead asking, “You really think of me that way?”

You shrug a shoulder. Nonchalance a constant feature, but so natural, even somewhat gentle, that he can’t help but feel drawn to you. “A little.”

“Well, shit.”

“Don’t overthink it. Enjoy the art.”

“Sure.”

Reluctantly, he glances to the canvas. It’s a mess of hues; a random arrangement of spontaneous emotions. Resembles the masterpieces he used to create in Microsoft Paint, back when his legs would still dangle off the chair.

“Then,” he starts, nodding towards the painting, “what do you see in this?”

You hesitate. Or maybe it’s not hesitation — more like… a thinking pause. Sometimes, when Jungkook notices a whirring mind, he sees a steaming brain through a skull. Working at full blast.

But somehow, he only sees a calm ocean as he observes you gather your thoughts. Everything about you is gentle, but wrapped in dark mystery. How much mental training does it require to become this inscrutable?

When you finally speak, you’re saying similarly strange things.

“I see… colours.” Right. Stating the obvious. Jungkook chuckles, delivering a head tilt. “And am wondering how the painter got to create this at all. I mean, this looks so meaningless at first, doesn’t it?”

“And it’s not, yeah?”

“We’re fast to think that. Most of the time, there must have been a trigger, or a thought about something, no matter how small. Something might have been bothering him. This is—” A soft hand gestures towards the painting. “Such a chaotic mind.”

Interesting…

“Is this what you usually think about all day?” Jungkook wonders.

You scoff. “I’m just a person, too. I think about a lot of random things.”

“Ohhh. Like what?”

“Like… seeing all the green in this exhibit made me realise how this colour makes me cry.”

Jungkook takes a haphazard look around. Now that you say it — there’s no hint of a nature theme, but the abundance of green is striking now. It’s as calm as you. No wonder you’d immerse yourself in a showcase such as this.

You continue, as if tracing and reading his mind like an open novel, “It’s soothing, right? And unique. These earthly things sometimes make me feel like not all of us are deserving of seeing such beauty. Like it should be reserved for those who earn it.”

Earn it? How?

Jungkook can’t see your thoughts as clearly as you’re apparently capable of doing, but he has an inkling of what you might mean. Truly dazzling souls merit the stunning bloom of the world, right?

And then…

If that’s what it is.

He wonders — do you think he deserves to see the colour green? Or is it already over if he has to ask? Perhaps, should he be perceiving it as grey right now? He doesn’t know.

He doesn’t know how you think of him — doesn’t know anything about you at all. You’re a tough nut to crack.

“Hmm… that’s a way to think about it,” he says.

“Only because it’s the same for people. And I’ve had this thought about humans a lot… I…” You hesitate, blink, and then grant him your stare. “I knew someone who was the colour green. Not everyone deserved them, either.”

Poetic minds carry a certain pain in their eyes.

He’s been seeing it in yours. He just doesn’t know how to handle it. So he doesn’t.

Instead, he asks, “What else are you thinking about?”

“Uhmmm,” you voice, straightening your back a little, as if waking up from a dream — nightmare? “I’ve been thinking about trying that, too. Painting, I mean. It doesn’t have to mean anything or be good. Just a great way to capture something that resonates with what I feel.”

Every word you’ve uttered today was otherworldly. You didn’t talk like that when you were in his office, or at the meeting. Your soul is somewhat free-floating here, and he doesn’t understand why.

And it’s a behaviour he usually strays away from. The vulnerable ones can be dangerous.

But somehow… you’re too strong of a magnet.

One who shrugs all the mystery away — and he sighs in despair. Maybe it’s not time to find out what you feel just yet. What resonates with you — even though he’s dying to hear it.

He inquires, “Are you always this open?”

“No. Not at all.” Of course not. Rhetoric question — he knows this much. “But I like thinking out loud sometimes.”

“I’m glad to be a sounding board then.”

“Yeah. I was also thinking how I appreciate that I met you here.” Pause. Oh? What a surprise. Out of the blue, too. Strokes his ego, though. And then, unexpectedly again, “You wanna go to the museum restaurant?”

Jungkook has barely seen half of the exhibition yet. But just for today, he couldn’t care less.

Perhaps it’s enough for now, sitting in this overpriced restaurant, watching you from afar as you inspect your nails calmly. You’re not busy on your phone like the rest of the crowd — entertained by the same media that he’s part of.

Maybe he can be a bigger part of their lives one day — be the one flitting over their screens, the one they adore. The one they worship.

But you don’t seem to indulge in those mind-numbing devices for now. You might be an addition to his team, but privately, you float in your own world. Distracted by the thoughts you won’t disclose.

Your hands retreat, arms crossing on the table and lips curling into a smile once he strolls back to you. Satisfied, he informs you, “One cake with the coffee. As the lady suggested.”

“Oh,” you make, “don’t you want one?”

“I do.”

“So…” You stall, and he waits until it clicks, your head tilting in understanding. “Are we sharing?”

Jungkook lifts a thumb, pointing over his shoulder, back to the register, “Those chocolate cakes are sweet as heck. I’ve got a sweet tooth, but believe that it’ll be enough for the two of us.”

You laugh — a sweet, disarming chuckle before you breathe an, “Alright.”

Jungkook doesn’t know you well enough to feel any skip in his heart; yet, you stir something else in his mind. It’s always people like you who intrigue him the most — those who veil themselves in a coat of secrets.

He sighs.

“That was fast,” you note, eyes at a point behind him.

And he understands when the waitress arrives a couple moments later, two perfectly prepared lattes and a mouth-watering chocolate fudge slice. You thank her with a gentle smile, tuck a hair behind your ear, fingertips grazing the dangling earring.

And he watches.

Watches as you nod towards him, urging him, “Start then.”

Observes your smile as he signals you to start instead. And he gazes at you as your delicate digits reach for the fork, tearing off a piece, wrapping your lips around the utensil.

And then… God.

He feels his guts twist; hears all background noise fade; blood rushing away from his head, through his body as you slowly relish the sweetness and then drag your tongue over the fork. Licking away the leftover chocolate.

Jungkook swears it happens in slow motion. And witnessing your elegance at snail's pace… makes him sick.

When your eyelashes flutter, gape lifting to meet his, the sounds around him come alive again — as does he. He averts his stare from your mouth, covered in the same colour as the coffee, but you notice.

You see him looking. And it makes you… smile? Shit.

But you don’t boast your effect; only digress as you say, “Well… tastes as fancy as it looks. Try it.”

You’re as relaxed with him as you can be. But you always are; with everyone. He craves that bit that’s only reserved for him — then again, maybe he’s too zealous too fast. He hasn’t known you for long.

But making you smile must be an achievement. If only… you didn’t think of him like…

He nods, and then leans over the table ever-so-slightly. His knees brush against yours, a soft but deliberate move. He places an elbow on the table, grasping the fork, close to you. If he lifted his hand, he could touch your cheek.

He wishes he could.

His eyes meet yours through his bangs, the cake’s taste irrelevant to your presence. And when his ego doesn’t let him relax, he finally asks, almost as if insulted, “Do you actually perceive me as a fuckboy?”

The question catches you off guard. You hesitate, furrowing your eyebrows, and then giggle before questioning back, “Jungkook… it’s bothering you this much? Mmmh. How would you like to be perceived?”

“Just. As a decent guy who wants to get to know you. And I know you know.” You blink, but he doesn’t buy it. So he elaborates, “I’ve been trying to make clear that I find you lovely. And somewhat attractive.”

People usually display a flicker of glimmer in their eyes upon hearing such praise. But you don’t quite budge; in fact, your eyes remain the same, if not a little darker. Why?

Yet, you cock an eyebrow, sporting a teasing, playful tone, “Somewhat, hm?”

He shakes his head, clicks his tongue. “You’re pretty and I think you know,” he blurts, “and I don’t want to screw up right away.”

Is it the habit of never failing? The urge to solve an enigma? The chance to dive into you until you’re bared to him? Why are you so interesting to him?

You’re just a person.

Maybe it’s just the unsettling need to discover what you’re hiding — it won’t let him rest in peace. There’s something about you that screams to him to unravel. Makes him want you more.

He doesn’t know what it is. Doesn’t know if you’re even from the same world as him — even though you seem to have crossed his realm before. No matter what it is; Jungkook merely understands for now that he wants to take off your layers.

Wants to be the colour green for you.

“Ah—” you voice.

“In fact, I’m not supposed to hang out here with you.”

“…How come?”

“I should be with Tae,” he admits. Maybe he’s revealing more to you than he should — maybe he should adjust to your level of secrecy and wait. But this is frustrating him. “He dragged me here, so I could get inspiration from all sides.”

You listen; perhaps not quite loving the idea of seeing him in such a way?

Fuck. Maybe it really was a mistake. No turning back now, though.

“He said artists find motivation in art, too, and I do like to paint, so…” He looks at his cup, still left to be tried from, and then stares up from the cream leaf that the barista formed in his coffee. “I didn’t wanna come here, though. I already have an idea of what I want to do.”

“And…” you start, still not addressing the issue on hand; choosing to talk about something else for now, “he doesn’t like what you’ve come up with?”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t know about it yet.”

You take a sip of your coffee, softly smacking your lips once to relish the taste. You’re living proof that subtle gestures can make a mind race. Then you say, “Maybe you should introduce it to him then.”

“I will. Just… mmh, need a better grasp on it.” He throws a nod towards you. “I can’t wait to show you either.”

Another sip of the seething liquid.

If the gentle hint of him being bent on your presence flatters you anyhow — stirs anything in you at all — you don’t let it show. Are you, by chance, used to being swarmed from all sides?

Are his advances kindergarten to you?

You don’t budge as he waits for you to respond, setting the cup back on your saucer before you inquire, “Where is Taehyung, anyway then?”

“Uh, I’m sure he’s going around admiring the art?” Jungkook guesses, head reflexively moving to the side, as if his friend and co-worker could materialise out of thin air. “He enjoys it even more than I do.”

“And you separated from him because…”

Because Jungkook ascended a spiral staircase. Because he turned right and halted in front of the second instead of the first room. Because he recognised the familiar curves and edges, as intriguing as ever, from this far distance.

And told Taehyung to continue without him; that Jungkook was going to explore a different corner of the museum.

He tilts his head; his left eyebrow raises just a twitch, fingertips tapping the hot surface of the coffee cup. And then, charisma gathered in the middle of his pupils, he tells you—

“Because I found you.”

There it is.

The slightest of reactions.

Your eyes widen barely an inch, but he sees it. How your lips part a bit, even though you should’ve expected his answer after the conversations hitherto shared. Hm…

“So you did follow me,” you say.

He can’t say if you’re joking or not. But all of a sudden, he wonders if he’s creeped you out. He opted for flirting so clearly, but… maybe you interpreted it vastly differently.

But he keeps himself relaxed; not faltering now when you aren’t either. Answers, “If you want to call it that. I call it finding you and then sticking with you. You’re interesting, Miss Manager.”

You smile.

Genuinely, thoroughly, wholeheartedly.

The beam reveals more than any word could’ve today — that humanity slumbers somewhere in the crevices of your heart. Your eyes suggest it as much as your stance on art did.

Whatever might have scarred you in life, behind all that ache, you hide a delicate soul.

Green, green, green.

And your cryptic worry, uttered a moment later, doesn’t bring him down from his sense of victory. No. Not now.

“Yeah?” You cross your legs, letting out a breathy sigh. “Then I sincerely hope that doesn’t change.”

[6:43PM] Jeon Jungkook: i’ve been thinking about something. and of you

For a bedroom as sparsely decorated and light-coloured as Jungkook’s, he should be surrounded by a brilliant glow. And usually, he is.

The windows occupy half of the wall, the bedsheets a perfect white; had he texted you a couple hours prior, he would’ve found himself in the gleam of a pale blue late winter sky. But if he’d tapped your name on his device earlier, he would’ve indulged in a whole different mood, too.

Wouldn’t have given into fatigued, delirious fantasies. Daydreaming about the curves of your lips and about the single strands of hair kissing your cheeks. Or the way you love exposing your neck, as if to taunt him.

It’s right there, but you can’t touch it, Jeon.

And…

And the mounds of your chest, slivers of it visible whenever you put on those heaven sent dresses. Their cuts are almost as deep as the ones damaging Jungkook’s brain. And not much for the sake of his sanity, the thirst isn’t quenched just yet.

Crossed legs badly hidden under your see-through tights. The movement of your hips when you walk into his studio, placing yet another gruesome schedule onto his desk. Your scent when you lean into him, pointing to another meeting he barely recalls.

You… you…

If Jungkook hadn’t already cleaned up the sloppy mess previously covering his knuckles, trickling down his thighs, he’d possibly give into the urge to sneak his fingers back to where he craves them to linger.

No, you made that mess.

Of his sheets, of him. And you never needed to be here in the first place.

Jungkook is no fool — unlike many of his friends, he doesn’t deny the way his body winds. He knows what he wants; and right now, he hungers for you. Wants you to eliminate the drought on his tongue; wants you to replace it with some taste instead.

“Fuuuuck.”

The word drags into the emptiness of the room, filling the silence that someone else should be lifting. But you’re not here, and you’re not answering. Not yet, at least. Has it been seconds or minutes?

Too long, is all he knows.

His digits are cleaned thoroughly, but he can’t shake the persisting feeling of sheer, dirty lust as they reach his phone again. Lighting up the screen, then curling inwards in frustration.

He repeats the desperate attempt of manifestation a couple times until he throws the device aside, nearly missing the mid-air vibrations, indicating the long-awaited message. Jungkook’s heart falls out of his ribcage and squeezes his guts; your name elicits far more than it should.

And he feels just a little guilty.

Because he doesn’t deny himself any pleasure — so he knows this isn’t love. This isn’t starving for emotionality. Not for sentiments. What you pull out might be his ugliest, beastliest side; his mind is filled with images of you that he shouldn’t be having.

You’re so respected. So tender and kind. Intriguing, a riddle, but inhabiting secrets probably far darker than his thoughts. So he feels odd about the wanton desire; feels guilty.

But just for a bit. Just a little.

The message you sent back is too humble, too innocent. Sometimes he reckons you’re aware of your power, and sometimes he assumes you think of yourself as… ordinary.

But you’re not. And he wants to show you.

Just one touch, please.

“Fuck, shut up, you creep,” Jungkook whispers to himself, scolding his treacherous mind before he reads again.

[6:52PM] You: Oh? Why would you be thinking about me? Of all people?

Should he wait? You did, too.

Or should he make as crystal clear as he can muster that he’s been waiting for you?

Screw it.

[6:53PM] Jeon Jungkook: what else should I be thinking of?

Your next response is immediate — you’re online. Waiting for him to answer.

Good.

[6:53PM] You: Your music?

[6:53PM] Jeon Jungkook: my music doesn’t talk to me as much as you do these days

He smirks. Keeps the beam plastered to his face until the waiting becomes a little too long. Message on read, you leave the chat room empty of you and full of a nervy Jungkook. He opts out of it the same second, keen on patience before it fades again, bit by bit.

Because then, the thoughts flood in.

Are you rolling your eyes? Throwing the phone into a corner of your couch? Has he fucked up before anything could start?

But it’s been going so well. You talk to him every single day. Ever since the museum, the two of you have been orbiting each other; partly due to work, partly because he’s caught you smiling, too.

Your words are too sickeningly often accompanied by a soft touch of yours against his shoulders; against his arms. Sometimes, you brush his back, his eyes wide awake, the smile timid yet crushingly losing against your confident gaze.

All this must mean something.

“Nah. Fuck it,” he mutters again, sighing over his own constant use of curses. “Come back.”

[6:55PM] Jeon Jungkook: actually… I did come up with one tune. It’s just a skeleton of a song tbh, but I need a sounding board.

It takes another one minute for you to come back, and Jungkook angles his legs, relying on the movements of his body to ease the impatience. But then—

[6:56PM] You: Oh, and? [6:56PM] You: Sorry, I had to step away for a sec

Sigh of relief. Even though embarrassment annoyingly adds itself to the mix, an uninvited guest.

[6:57PM] Jeon Jungkook: …do you wanna come to the studio?

[6:57PM] You: Right now? It’s like… [6:57PM] You: 7pm

Unconsciously, Jungkook shrugs his shoulders, unbothered to the bone, just craving, craving, craving…

[6:57PM] Jeon Jungkook: a true artist never rests. [6:57PM] Jeon Jungkook: and I’d rather die than stop hustling for my passion

As the next message appears at the bottom of the screen, Jungkook can’t help but bite into his lower lip with a certain pride. He nods as if he caught his prey, trapping it between his fangs.

[6:58PM] You: 😂LOL. now that, I admire, mister Jeon :) [6:58PM] You: I’ll finish my wine and be on my way

Oh.

Are you tipsy? Maybe he’s reading too much into it, but the emoji seems so unlike you; yet, you somehow manage to capture the core of what and who you are in the rest of the message. Six coherent words. That’s all it takes.

Goddamn.

You’re so thoroughly you.

[6:59PM] Jeon Jungkook: wait. really?

And that’s it. You disappear.

Perhaps you’re joking; perhaps you’re messing with him. The sun has already set; and he doesn’t think he’s ever stayed with you much longer than dusk before.

If he met you in the evening, or on other nights, would you make more sense than you usually do? Are you the type to unravel when the world quiets down? Or the one to blend with the darkness more, drawing back further?

If there’s pure truth in what you just said, devoid of all mockery you could revert to… he might find out. And it seems you’re in the right mood today, earnest with your intentions when he feels his phone vibrate against his thick thigh again, making him flinch.

[7:11PM] You: Yes? I’m already dressed. Get your ass up

Oh shit.

Despite your order, his limbs still shut down. His muscles and bones melt into the bed, a fleeting image of your sly smirk crossing his mind and an assured voice surrounding his eardrums.

And if he didn’t overthink each of your movements; didn’t fantasise about the possible rise and fall of your voice, he would’ve discarded his phone and gotten dressed a lot earlier.

How embarrassing.

The fact that his mind doesn’t want to categorise this as a crush, no matter how much he asks. That his body responds to you like that, superficial and intrigued.

Embarrassing. He should focus on more important things.

Yet, he can’t be bothered with the intruding sentiment, shame shoved aside and trampled under his feet as his car turns into a parking lot, perfectly in front of the building’s entrance. Your form is crystal clear in the dark; not even the shadows and lack of light can hide your silhouette.

The radar sensor beeps when he creeps too close to the hood of the car behind him, and he mumbles a curse, averting his eyes from your unmoving self to focus on proper parking. Letting the roaring engine die.

Your shoulders are slightly raised when he approaches you at the door. One hand is stuffed in the pocket of your thin, baby pink coat, the other curled into a fist, possibly resisting the urge to enter the building and combat the cold.

You could’ve waited inside, too. Unless…

Maybe you’re excited to see him, too.

You smile, lips reaching far up; he tries his hardest to believe he’s right. Takes the gesture as a good omen, and the hair pulled up in a loose bun as a sign of hurry. You look domestic, comfortable in your skin, no matter who’s around.

But somewhere between the comfort and the softness, there’s that everlingering intrigue, too. And… some timidness. Showing in the crossed legs his eyes drift over, up to the short skirt barely visible underneath the coat.

And your face… so natural. More than usual. Mascara only? He doesn’t know.

All he knows is that he needs to say something.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you throw back, tilting your head in tease, “where were you? Took you long enough to get here.”

He steps closer; fiddling with his jacket’s pocket, fishing for the keys. And his proximity changes something about you so subtly, a miniscule movement. Hand digging deeper into your coat.

You’re on guard for some reason. And he can’t help but admit he’s on guard with you, too, albeit in a less physical and more mental way. The unfathomable, dichotomous sensation of wanting you near, wanting you far is killing him.

What are you hiding?

If he could, he’d speak it out loud.

“I had to freshen up,” he finally responds, “I honestly didn’t expect you to say yes.”

Your body might be in protection mode, but your voice is as composed, even somewhat amused, as always, “Well.” You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t see why. But I’m here now, and honestly… a little cold?” Nodding towards the door, “Should we go inside?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

He sniffles, fishing for the chip to unlock the door. For an ephemeral second right before walking inside, your breath lingers incredibly close to his own, grazing his lip ring. “Don’t forget to dress warm this season.”

Near enough for his fingers to succumb to the impulse and sidle to you, skimming your thigh so featherlightly. He thinks he hears the sharp inhale you suck in. His skin tickles, the shiver icy on his body. He watches you smirk, lowering your head; his fingertips insist on the vicinity just for the tiniest seconds before he says,

“Okay. Let's go inside before you catch a cold, silly.”

But the bitter frost permeates the hallways of the company in the same ruthless manner. Perhaps somebody’s still lingering around in the daunting dark. Revising steps in the mirrored practice rooms or hovering above lyrics and tunes, neck bent and back tired.

But the building isn’t heated; and it shows in your rather quick steps, an arm wrapped around your chest to rub the layers above your arm. The guarded demeanour doesn’t match your usual confidence; aside from the hollow hallways, it seems that you’re scared of more than just the cold.

He doesn’t point it out. And he doesn’t stare for too long.

If he did, you might realise.

Instead, he saunters to the elevator with you in tow, delighted about the light that never changes in the small rectangular space. You let your hand drop to your purse, lazily toying with its zip, and turn your head to observe the closing doors.

And Jungkook observes you.

The glow of your cheeks in the bright beam, half of your face devoid of the hair tucked behind your ear. As you breathe in, your lips split a fraction, and their gentle, soft curves mesmerise him for a moment too long.

It’s difficult and cruel, being around you. Haunting, agonising, aggravating.

And when your eyes align with his again, sparkling a little in line with your tender smile, Jungkook realises that he’s been holding his breath. Because it escapes between the seam of his mouth in a sudden push, his knees nearly buckling.

He resists the urge to bite into his fist, instead disguising his thoughts when he covers his mouth, teeth digging into his plump, lower lips.

“So,” he quickly adds, leaving no space for you to question his eccentricity, but you initiate another convo in the same tiny second, “It’s…”

You pause, withholding your statement in order to listen to his. But he shakes his head, lifting a hand to sign for you to continue. So you say, “It’s a little scary here at night.”

Okay. Not that tough of a topic.

“Right?” he confirms. “I always imagine getting here and hearing a hum that’s not really there.”

“Uh…” You blink in disbelief, lifting your eyebrows, but when he shrugs your confusion away, your hesitation marker turns into a chuckle. “Why the hell would you say that?”

“It’s just something I imagine. It’s terrifying, but my mind goes places, and I never ask it to.”

“Well, it’s a mean thing of your mind to do.” The ding of the elevator distracts you, and when you step out, your thoughts remain at an afar spot. Kept inside your pretty little head until you whisper, “And? Have you ever heard it, then?”

“Hm? The hum?” You nod, and he suppresses the snicker your curious, cocked eyebrow nearly elicits. “No. Only myself. Humming helps me control my breathing, so I do it to practise.”

“Weird. It’s so different from how I’d imagine you.”

Huh. Seems he’s not the only one sketching your entire being to keep himself awake at night.

“How would you?” he asks.

“As a rockstar?”

“Oh?” That’s new. “As a future RnB slash pop sensation I find this officially peculiar. Why a rockstar?”

You cock an eyebrow; either digesting the confident prophecy or pondering his question. The crooked smile matches his own signature smirk a little, and you puff out a breath before your sombre yet sparkling eyes wander an inch further down, right to his mouth.

Your eyelashes are endless, on their way to brush those delicate apples of your cheeks — in reality, it’s an impossible fantasy written in novels and poems, but it’s exactly how it looks. Exactly how much your curious gaze drops.

Only, the tingling sensation in his chest soon subsides, freeing a path to the realisation that he’s yet again misunderstanding. Because you’re not drawn by his lips, but rather considering a response.

He sighs in subtle disappointment when you point to the shiny metal encircling his lower lip, telling him, “Gotta be the piercing.”

“Ah. Ahhh. Well. First off, this is a very stereotypical assumption.” You shrug your shoulders in amusement, watching him cram for his chip until he halts in front of his studio, keeping you in his vision. “And secondly.”

The lock of the door clicks as he swipes the chip across the reader, defined knuckles paling a bit when he pushes the handle down. He raises his chin by a fraction, pulling out the most-assured smile, and asks, “Do you like it?”

And you, composed as ever, respond, “It suits you. I always wonder how comfortable these are, though.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, like. Do they have a metal taste? Do you ever get hyper aware of them and then get annoyed and want them off? Are they… cold?”

He laughs. There’s something endearing about how your voice quietens further the more your curiosity grows. You’re not quite looking at him, pupils focused on a random spot, hands expressive as you vocalise your thoughts.

“Let’s see,” he mutters, jacket thrown over a chair, “sometimes and, again, sometimes. It feels a bit cold right now because it’s cold outside. I mean…”

He rubs the chill off his tattooed arm, fingers diving under the short sleeves of his white, oversized t-shirt. Attempts never faltering, he leans into you in intrigue, parting his lips before running his tongue over the jewellery.

“Do you just. Wanna touch it and find out for yourself?”

You blink, frozen in place.

The room isn’t too spacious; Jungkook will get his very own studio, name tag and all once he reaches a clear peak. For once, he’s glad about the crowded room, girded by a guitar on the wall, chairs standing side by side, a little couch leaning against the back of the wall.

As ever, he can’t decipher your mood; as ever, you’re still quick to answer, “I… no. It’s okay.”

Why don’t you want him?

Goddamn it.

“Okay,” he simply utters, shrugging his vexation away. “Let’s get started then.”

The excitement in his tone dips, seemingly aloof, but as he walks into the dark square of silence, reaching for the headphones he placed right here mere hours ago, wordless curses dangle off the tip of his tongue.

He makes sure you don’t see the clench of his jaw or the fast and steady fall of his ego, but you’re shoving back the chair and adjusting anyway. Crossing tight-clad legs as you place your coat on your lap, throwing your mane to one side to free that damned neck.

It must be on purpose.

He waits for you to settle, the headphones on the table in front of you enveloping your head. They look way too big on you, and Jungkook can’t decide whether to tut at his anguish or swoon at your stellar being.

Jungkook uses his headphones to communicate through the glass, raising a thumb to ask, “Ready?” You nod, matching his gestures with your own. “Be honest, how professional do I look?”

Carding the fine hair back, he pushes a hand into the pocket of his pants, taking a stand in front of the boom microphone. He mimes a typical grimace of an immersed artist, letting out an immediate, sweet chuckle that you chime in joyfully.

You lean in, long earrings brushing your jaw, pressing down the button for the talkback mic to assure through the intercom, “You look like a born star.”

He rolls his eyes, playfully clicking his tongue, “Ahhh, that’s a nice yet basic thing to say, but. I’ll take it.”

“Why did you go in there anyway? Weren’t you just going to show me a song?”

“Adlibs, baby. I’m still missing those.” He adjusts the headphones again, clearing his throat, almost in position. “But I didn’t warm up my voice, so I’ll need to re-record them anyway.”

“And still you’re straining your voice because…?”

“We’re here to impress you, so let me.”

Your finger lifts off the button, but the movement of your lips suggests to him undoubtedly what your teasing self might be mumbling.

Oh damn. Sorry then, boss.

You raise your hands in defeat until you detect his beguiled smile, raising your eyebrows in a clear question that he answers with two words; a simple title of a song, not as glorious as the tune itself but hopefully as memorable.

Eyes scurrying across the now opened laptop screen, you search for the instrumental until you stumble upon it. 3:54 minutes of what Jungkook prays to be blasted everywhere in a couple week’s time before the big concert, chiming in his ears.

The initial guitar riff drowns the room in a mixture of intriguing anticipation and uncurbed sentiments immediately. Jungkook’s eyes dart to your face, attempting to decode a reaction. And when you notice, hands on the headphones, you nod approvingly.

Most of his vocals are already recorded to perfection; a silky voice laments about a lost time with purity. Jungkook largely listens in, searching for wonky bits or moments to be re-tackled. Of course, he will need to discuss the details with Taehyung tomorrow, but whenever the passion burns the hottest, he can’t help but add an adlib here and there.

As he sings, his eyes reflexively close, and for a couple dozen seconds, the melodic current pulls him towards a bigger ocean; the sense of freedom and possibility is astonishing. There’s a certain ardour he feels towards music that nothing will ever be able to elicit.

Do you feel the same?

As somebody spending day in, day out surrounded by musicians, does that phenomenon make your heart surge, too?

Maybe.

When he looks at you again, it’s at least something fervent he detects in your gaze. A bit like the longing he feels. Intense fondness, or perhaps, even zoning out — until you’re barely blinking anymore.

Your features relax a little more as the song proceeds, bit by bit, the calmest when the ending notes arrive. Jungkook observes you; freezes at his spot. The change from the built-up chorus to the suddenly calm ending, instruments dying, are as forgotten as the last touches… because you, behind the glass, are much more interesting.

Just staring. Looking at the screen, its brightness reflecting in your pupils. When you blink again, most of the preceding smile is gone, something indecipherable in your eyes.

He doesn’t know whether you actually enjoyed the entire thing or became consumed by memories he doesn’t know of. Some the song might have drawn out but shouldn’t have. There’s… a past in your stare.

He knows because much like the vast existing humanity, he’s been tending to faraway memories for years, too.

And he wants to know about yours.

Gently, Jungkook grasps the headphones covering his ears, the mane victim to the impact before his fingers fix it again. He frees his eyes off his strands, never directing them away from you, and when he opens the door to the small room you drifted off in, you look up.

Your emerging smile is unsuspecting and polite as always, and you deliver a tilt of your head. Jungkook could sign the previous oddness off as just this, or a sinking into arts just as he does sometimes.

But what’s enough is enough; brushing questions off his mind has become tedious.

So he rolls back the second chair next to you to take a seat, placing his arm on the one of the furniture before folding his fingers; leaning in, asking, “You okay?”

You react with a soft nod, a tender hum, “Yeah! I was listening.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

“You zoned out.”

“Which is a good thing, I promise.”

Jungkook looks for a moment. Waits for you to break or admit that the truth you display might not be as pure as you think; waits for his instinct to wind up correct.

But when you do nothing of that sort, eyes a resolute and solid statement, he sighs. Tongues at the lip ring for a moment before he clears his throat and questions, “Good thing, yeah? What else do you think?”

“It… goes deep,” you confess, an impressed declaration in your expressions, “what are you talking about in that one? I mean, I know, but… it sounds so personal.”

“More or less? I’ve spent most of the last few years dedicating myself to this job. The training, the late night sessions, the failure and lost time. I wanted to depict those hardships.” He nods, emphasising his points. “I want this song to help me look back one day…”

He shrugs his shoulders, thumbs slowly circling around each other, “And comfort my older self that despite the hectic life, things are okay.”

“I see.”

Your tone is neutral, but your chest rises and falls a little too slowly. Your sorrow is quiet. He closes the distance further, nudging your arm, “Hey. Did you not like it?”

“I did,” you defend, honesty and reassurance in your voice, “I do. You have an amazing voice, come on, what’s not to like. And the sound is incredible. Should you manage to release it, it will be celebrated a lot.”

“I will manage to release it,” he says with furrowed eyebrows, resisting the urge to touch your elbow again, but settling on simply calling your name instead, “you’re part of my team. Let’s be optimistic.”

“I am. Teamwork makes the dream work. Etcetera.”

“Right,” Jungkook breathes, word close to a yawn. He throws his body back in the cushioned chair, manspreading as much as the space allows; stretches his arms until his muscles crack. “Ahhh… I really want this to be good.”

His gaze falls to the darkening laptop, soon giving way to pitch darkness, potentially to some screensaver. The title of the song remains still in the opened audio file, and he smacks his lips, blinking only when you voice an approving, “Mhmmm.”

His head darts to you the moment you deliver a subtle nod towards the computer, deducting, “You really strive to be big.”

Well, yeah. That’s been the plan. Always, always.

“Shouldn’t I?” he argues. “It’s a dream.”

“It’s good to have dreams.”

“That’s right. Mine is to… Stand on a bigger stage. I think I’ve reached a solid group, but I think if I keep working hard and with the right team, I can make it?”

“This determined, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he responds with a hint of obvious self-evidence, slight confusion shadowing his mind — have you never wanted something so badly? “The audience’s eyes glued to me. Don’t you have a dream?”

Another deep inhale of air, chest working hard, as if you’re breathing out fatigue. He prepares for another vague answer that might leave him guessing; and albeit clearly seeing the usual curtain veiling your true thoughts, what you say next makes his ears perk up.

“Honestly. I’ll allow dreams again once I’ve moved on. That’s all I want.”

What?

Did you actually want to say that? Was it on purpose? A slip of the tongue?

Because it seems so unlike you. Reveals too much. He doesn’t think you’ve exposed your innermost thoughts like this before, even if still not quite transparent.

“…From what?” The previously relinquished distance dies when he inches closer again, digits sneaking close to your knee. A fingertip floats over your tights. “Hey. Is something bothering you?”

“Ugh,” you say; the sliver of sadness seamlessly transitions into an expression of nonchalance when you wave your concerns off so quickly. “Young adult stuff.”

Nevertheless, you speak on. The biggest development in this friendship between the two of you yet. “I once had a friend that moved away. We were pretty close, and now she’s far away. Which sucks.”

“I’m sorry.”

That’s it.

Jungkook offers to listen, but he doesn’t necessarily deem himself the most expressive guy when it comes to emotions like these; even if he so deeply wishes to read your thoughts. Music is different; speaking to an audience is, too. Articulating gratitude isn’t as difficult as extinguishing someone else’s grief.

And while not quite confronted with anguish, he houses demons that still haunt his nights; he can barely obliterate them.

Maybe he doesn’t need to.

Maybe he can comfort you in the only way he’s ever known. The stupid, selfish way; offering relief and distraction in the most sinful manner.

“Listen…” Jungkook starts, but in all honesty — there isn’t much to say.

Only to crave. To look.

At the curve of your lips. The distance between them. The bare wrist needing to be held, tired eyes wanting to replace the sorrow with something else.

Is he an asshole for wanting to annihilate your heavy breaths of dejection and replace them with sighs of his name instead?

He doesn’t know. He barely hears his thoughts. Only the blood rushing to his ears, and then away from his head, down his body.

Fuck.

The levitating finger drops an inch; you gasp almost inaudibly when the tip touches your knee, skin separated by the tights only. Jungkook loves fashion choices like these, but hates the hurdle right now.

His warm palm opens, placing right above your knee, approaching the meat of your thigh. He knows you’re not breathing because he can’t hear the exhales; and when his eyes, hooded and possibly insane, flit up to you, he recognises the change in your pupils.

You gulp; and then finally push out some air again. Your hand moves to his inked wrist, touching lightly, unsure what to do. But when you don’t resist, his other arm lifts, touch moving to your face, holding it.

The world spins, moving like an earthquake as his mouth draws nearer. You let out a miniscule sound that punches him in the guts; sweet and pure.

He wants to shatter and wreck you so bad; wants you to feel the same poison you’ve fed him. Irresistible, deadly.

But just as the metal of his jewellery grazes your lips, the softness and warmth radiating towards him, your breath shakes. Your face budges enough for his upper lip to feel a brush against yours, but that’s all he gets.

Because you retreat without giving in. And he doesn’t know why.

He clenches his jaw. God fucking hell. What’s your problem?

The sense of failure overwhelms him. Failure. Failure.

That’s not the term his mind should conjure. He knows the moral compass hides somewhere in his dark heart; he knows. Yet, he can never give into it. Is he a bad person? He doesn’t know.

Control was never his domain, after all.

But he keeps those intrusive thoughts inside, intending to not scare you off more than he already might have. So he accepts the dodging of the kiss, moving back, immediately leaving you safe from his touch.

And then, he says, “Uhm— I’m sorry.”

You don’t answer, still catching your breath, back to the heavy sighs that he was going to help shove back. Once again, he tries, “Honestly, I apologise, I just…”

“No, no. Please, don’t be sorry,” you reassure, slightly touching his shoulder. A wave of relief washes over him. “I’m just. Not in the right mindset for it yet. But I’m flattered, really.”

“Okay.” He nods. His eyes drop to his fingers; he still feels your heat on his skin, basks in it for a moment. But when the awkward silence lingers, he suggests, “Then. Let’s call it a night and I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sounds good. I’m definitely getting tired.”

“Me too.”

Jungkook rises from his seat, still unable to wrap his head around what happens — or almost happened. Maybe another time. Grabbing your coat from behind you, he helps you into it, avoiding your eyes, trying not to showcase his frustration.

Uncertain what to say, he reverts back to small talk, stating, “Thanks for still coming so late. You really do like the song, yeah?”

“Jungkook… it’s honestly very good.”

You smile; there’s something about your honesty. About the way you say his name. And how hopeful you truly seem for him. How much you seem to mean it when you say—

“If there’s anyone who can manage to wrap the world around their finger, it’ll be you, Jungkook.”

“Alright. I think I have an answer to your question now.”

You down the sip of red wine with a delicate smack of your lips, blinking at the change in topic. The evening has followed a pleasant pace so far, conversations well balanced; even though you still carry a sense of caution that Jungkook sees no reason behind.

Perhaps it’s the fact that after weeks of subtle, flirty undertones and advancing attempts you’ve taken the seat on his couch as he’s imagined for so long now. Maybe he still exudes something that screams for caution; maybe that’s just who you are.

Jungkook, for one, is just glad to receive any kind of recognition from you. But he’d be a fool to not insert all his effort into tonight, from the food to the type of drinks and conversations. He knows where he needs to be and he wants you to want it, too.

“What question?” you ask.

It’s just.

Despite the lightness with which you carry your talks, some of your movements feel off, detached from your body. Not quite matching the grace your face portrays; just that one hint. The one hiding in your fingers, tapping the dark screen of the phone resting on your thigh.

As if you’re waiting for a call or something to happen that Jungkook isn’t aware of. Who knows. Nothing has happened in the last hour, so this might be an unconscious gesture reasoned in nothing but an absent or distracted mind.

Yeah.

You’re probably not even aware of it and he’s just overthinking it.

He takes a breath, inhaling the aroma of the almost finished wine, “What I’d do if I could spend a day in a virtual reality.”

“Wait, does the Wembley Stadium doesn’t count anymore?”

Jungkook smirks, dismissing his own prior answer with a click of his tongue. “C’mon. Does it really? You can ask literally any artist ever and that’s what they’ll say.”

You ponder his response, pursing your lips in thought, and then shrug one shoulder. Nodding along, you acknowledge, “Right. So what is it then?”

“I’d just.” He sucks air through his teeth sharply, leaning back with a signature smack of his lips. “Get into a reality in which this damn song is already finished and mixed and ready to be released.”

This song referring to the concoction of sounds he showed you earlier, yet to be concretised and burnished to what he truly envisions. It’s the only song left that shackles him to the studio; at the upcoming concert, he’ll just sing the demo version as a sneak peak if needed. What a source of stress.

But you don’t see it as much of a struggle; you’ve told him a dozen times that hard work justifies a slip-up. That the progress on his album balances out the artist’s block.

Possibly why you laugh his worry off without mocking it, merely throwing back, “I’m disappointed.”

Oh?

“Why?”

“Just because — the Wembley answer was better.”

Unexpected and sudden — much like the snicker you elicit, throwing his head back just a little. Concurring, he sighs, “Okay, okay. What about you then?” He cocks an eyebrow. “You didn’t tell me what you’d do.”

“You didn’t ask,” you remind him, already slurring your speech a bit, though still remaining a stable and solid stance, “dunno. You want the sappy or the basic answer?”

“Is the sappy one a tear-jerker? Sounds like it.”

“For sure.”

“Then the basic one. Don’t dig being sad.”

“Thought so,” you answer, and Jungkook holds back from prodding again this time, despite wondering what image he gets across, “alright. I’d do things I’m unsure of in real life. Like bungee jumping.”

“Oh? Kinda did not expect this.”

“No?”

“Just having a hard time imagining somebody as calm as you jumping off a building. Or yelling.”

You roll your eyes. “Anyway. I’d love to go, but I’m too scared of the risks. Like, rope stuff. Don’t want to be jumping for the last time.”

“Okay, yeah, but,” Jungkook starts, hesitating, “I mean, you could say that about anything. You leave your apartment and get hit by a car and then you’d be going out for the last time.”

You begin shaking your head mid-sentence, already drawing a breath, ready to disagree. Then, “That’s a bad comparison. These things are a once in a lifetime experience.”

“I’m just saying! Why hold back from things that excite you.”

“…Maybe you’re right.”

Jungkook’s proud nod and hum are reciprocated with a soft smile, fleeting when you roll your eyes back to your phone briefly. Absent-mindedly, you drag a fingertip across the device��s side as Jungkook follows your movements.

Yet, unsure what you might be harbouring in this pretty head of yours, he doesn’t ponder but asks, “What was the sappy thing?”

It’s as if you live multiple lives, hiding them in your innermost parts; because once he finishes his question, your sparkle returns, and you smirk a little, suddenly leaning forward.

Wordlessly, you fish a tissue out of the square, wooden box, puzzling him for a second until he understands right before you clarify, “For the upcoming tears.”

His titter is immediate, a reflex. You might be relaxed as a calm river, but your humour does shine through among your other million traits. He shakes his head in rejection, smile still plastered to his lips, and watches you lean back again, clearing your throat.

“Mhh, I’d say,” you muse, “I’d try to get into a simulation of Heaven. Try to meet those I miss.”

“Oh… damn.”

“Yeah.”

“…I don’t know what to say.”

But despite the dumbstruck silence, his mind does conjure prompt associations. Like when the two of you sat in his studio just two weeks ago, you engrossed in his music yet somehow dissociated from reality.

You spoke about lost and faraway people back then, too. And he didn’t ask then, either.

In the depths of his mind, he wants to believe that you’re trying to lead him somewhere, fishing for his hand but never quite reaching it. Drawing back right before pleading for help; or perhaps wanting to make him understand a thought he can’t fathom in the way you form it.

The pattern is repetitive, loud — but he knows you’ll retract the moment he does lean into you, offering his ear to your worries and thoughts.

He can’t win.

“That’s okay,” you say, making up for his lack of proper empathy, and that’s where you leave it. Not hesitating, not indicating another hint to lead to your mind.

Yet, he clears his throat quietly, licking drying lips, and asks in attempt to grip the truth, your whatever-truth, “And, who’d be there? Do you want to talk about that?”

“Mmmmh,” you hum, pondering, before you treat him with the same disappointment he’s suffered throughout the last weeks, “no. I think I’m good.”

Unbelievable, and truthfully, frustrating.

Are you playing this side of yours? Is it an act? Are two sides of you fighting within you?

“Okay,” he simply responds, clearly agitated but unsure whether you notice. You’re looking at your phone again. He sighs. “And… Do you believe in that stuff? Heaven, Hell, stuff like that.”

You shrug a bare shoulder. “Dunno. I like to think there’s something, but then again I don’t.”

“How so?”

“The way I see it, it’s kinda simple,” you explain matter-of-factly, “some people are good enough to deserve a place in Heaven once they’re gone. And some people are terrible enough to burn for eternity.”

Coming from your sweet mouth, uttered in an equally soft tone, the sentence feels jarring. Jungkook has had these thoughts before; he’d be a hypocrite to judge you for yours, recalling moments when he wondered where he’s destined to land once he’s left this realm.

And somehow, it was never the prettier option.

Still, he utters, disguising his own past pondering, “Wow. That’s dark.”

“It’s true. There’s some serious crime in the world.”

Agreed. Perhaps, compared to the extreme sins, he can be forgiven. Right? Maybe…

“Yeah,” Jungkook accords, “then, why did you say that sometimes you don’t like believing in it?”

“I mean, if there’s actually something like Hell, and I happen to fuck up throughout life… I don’t wanna end up there.”

It’s like you’re mirroring his thoughts.

Even if he never quite thought about it to such an extent. Even though his idea of the afterlife built on what he’s already done, and not what he’s still going to do.

But your words give a subtle hope that redemption is possible. Who knows. Who really knows.

Perhaps it’s easiest to stray away from these thoughts and focus on you at this very moment. Even if it’s you triggering innermost fears; he doesn’t quite have a clue how you do it.

No matter. He’ll focus on you. Altruism might be the first step to vindication. Karma points. Karma points.

“Valid,” he says kindly, “can’t imagine you fucking up, though.”

“How would you know?”

“The company grapevine whispered a lil something about you.”

“Ahhh—”

“Good things! Other than that, I just think. Don’t know.” A small gap, well-hidden so far, grows in the back of his mind, tiptoeing to the very front of his mind. Before he’s thought it through, he blurts, “I’ll be honest with you.”

Your ears perk up, eyes suddenly wide.

What was that?

Okay. Whatever. Can’t stop his speech now, “Uhm, I’ll be honest and say that I’m not the best person I know. Like, I’m aware of that. It’s why sometimes, I don’t really understand how people can be as genuine as you.”

…Has he said too much? Or not enough? Because he could swear your face deflates, expression dimming, as if you expected something else.

And all you say is, “I understand.”

A flicker of slight panic creeps into his overthinking head, not usually a trademark of his personality. But you look dispirited, even if just for a second. He tries further.

“And from what I’ve seen, you go through life gently. The way you do anything is how you do everything, right?”

“Hmmm,” you voice again, pupils hidden until you look up. And when you do, he breathes a sigh of relief; deep and obvious, and he doesn’t care if you notice. Smiling sweetly, you tell him, “You said that really well.”

The way you say it is riddled with woe, but within a second, your eyebrows relax, mouth forming an authentic grin. Displaying real emotions suits you better than the mask of the frigid ice queen you keep plastered to your face; you look different right now.

Vulnerable.

And it makes him want you more.

Does it have something to do with the warm light he chose for this room? No. It doesn’t shine brightly enough to really illuminate your face that much. With the intensity lowered beforehand, some of your features hide in the dark when you lower your head a little.

And it’s not the decent amount of alcohol the two of you slurped.

It’s the usual, mysterious shimmer in your eyes, begging to take off more of your mental layers. The fragility behind the pretence of invincible strength. No doubt, you’re still a textbook definition of a femme fatale.

Still, there’s some sweet urge to surrender, visible in your stance. A fragrance luring him in. Warm skin close to his; calling for his fingers.

And he’s at your beck and call, ready and motivated; giving into your wanting eyes — or is that his own desire he’s confusing? — and leaning in. A little more with each tiny moment, advancing until the tips of your noses meet.

Your warmth consumes him; your breathing quickens, resulting in fitful exhales that he takes in with vigour, much drowning in his own head until you gasp and he realises—

“Sorry,” he mumbles, not yet retracting. His hand touches your knee, carefully but with intention. Waiting, he asks, “Is that okay for you?”

“…I’m not sure.”

Your answer takes a seat on his ego and weighs it down. Harsh, sudden, perhaps not unexpected but definitely breaking a string of patience within him. But consent is consent; he understands. He’s grown now.

Yet…

“Fuck,” he whispers under a faint sigh, dejected and confused.

And you hear it. Bambi-eyed, you ask, “What?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

He’d lie if he suppressed the disappointment. Working towards you for weeks was supposed to end in realising his fantasies into a palpable, actual feeling, with a side achievement of a deeper connection.

You don’t seem to want to provide it; he understands, but the agitation courses through him like a fire burning up a forest. The trees are his nerves; alight with different emotions. You’re fumbling with the soft cotton of your winter dress, and he averts his eyes.

Shutting them for a moment, he ponders his options; does he continue the awkward conversation? Or perhaps, ask you for your opinion straightforwardly? Maybe, after all this while, it wouldn’t be so stupid to swap a penny for your thoughts.

And his mouth opens, but it seems you’re faster. Crushing his questions and uncertainties when he hears you gulp, witness to another change of mind as your knee shifts forward. His eyes open rapidly, and when he looks at you again, you’ve moved closer.

Your leg touches his thigh; your eyelids half fallen, lips an inch apart and fingers hesitating, yet advancing towards him. Hope sparks and sparkles in him anew, and he suppresses the cheeky, triumphant smile.

He feels like an asshole. Oh, he feels so selfish — but he can’t be the only one. He cannot possibly be the first or last to give into deepest desires out of self-interest.

Carefully, he matches your pace, moving into your direction much like you are drawing into his. His hand lifts to your arm, and you suck in a breath as he touches your skin, your chest rising and falling deeply.

And his eyes observe. The motion drives him crazy. He wants to pilot his touch to this spot, wrap his palm around your mounds, desperate to feel your nipples perk up under his skin, your mouth fall wider.

Should he? Maybe, maybe—

Not yet.

Instead, he draws an invisible line with his fingertips, up your arm and to your shoulders until he reaches your neck. The sound you let out is so tiny he barely hears it, and you tilt your head to the other side, giving him free reign over your skin.

A spark lights up under his finger, as if he’s touched a defective bulb. He wonders if you feel the same flame when he charges for your jawline, tracing it for a moment before he moves to your seething hot cheek.

You’re burning up.

So he asks in a quiet, gravelly voice, somehow much lower than usual, “Are you okay?”

Your eyebrows are furrowed, and he starts to worry again; but maybe that’s just the same tension unleashing that he’s felt, too. The temptation runs deep; he could scream it out of his lungs and it wouldn’t be enough.

Relieved as you nod, he mimics the movement, whispering an, “Okay,” before he then dips forward, exhaling close to your neck hotly and… leaves a small kiss right there. He doesn’t know about you, but if you did that to him, he’d possibly faint.

One more kiss, and suddenly, your hand is on his knee. His head spins. Must be the alcohol. Must be you.

And you’re probably in no better state, judging the hot cheeks and the slight sway of your body. Must be the wine. Must be him.

And when his lips graze your jaw, your fingers curl in, clawing onto his knee, and his inner voice celebrates, “Jackpot.”

But not really. He’s going with the flow, exploring your preferences, but this needs to be the night of your life. His mind and ego want you to perceive it that way. So what should he do? What do you like?

Are you one to push him into the bed, holding his shoulders down? Straddling him keenly, pouncing on him, eyes rolled back?

Or do you give away all the power you usually emanate; hands bound with a tie, legs struggling between a rope, screams muffled under a gag? Do you wind and go crazy when somebody has their way with you, edging and then overstimulating, refusing a touch and then slapping your ass wound…

Should he let your siren eyes tempt him into submission or will you be the one drilled into his mattress with a hand around your neck and a trail of black mixed with tears under your eyes?

He doesn’t know. Because you’ve disguised all of you; hidden your mind behind a mask of absolute neutrality, hard to decipher. He can usually read women so easily. They lick their lower lips when they want him under them, and quiver when vice versa.

He’d oblige to either for you. So what does it matter in the end, anyway?

No, it doesn’t.

His tongue that lashes out, however, does matter. Tasting your skin as it drags over your chin and then to your mouth. Insane when he reaches your lower lip and you sigh, then back to your neck, blowing, teasing, still not kissing you… touching your thigh, moving inwards…

“What do you want me to do?” he asks.

And this time, while still a little quiet, you finally say, “More. You can do more.”

“Yeah?”

You nod as if starved, relieved when his hands leave your leg and venture further in. It’s hidden under your dress, but somehow, not seeing your full glory just yet, but observing your reactions to his movements, stirs his thoughts. If any were left, that is.

The touch to your panties is light, tender as he reaches the hem, driving a finger underneath it in exploration. You don’t say much, but he sees the zeal in your eyes, murmuring a little, “Mhm…”

And when he finally presses against the fabric slowly dampening, lightly as he rolls his digits right where your skin so incredibly softens… you moan. You moan.

It doesn’t sound the way he imagined. But it kind of does. He doesn’t remember what he imagined — doesn’t know much at all. Just that he wanted this sound to echo within his walls. For him to be the one to drag it out. Not for anybody else, but him.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Okay. What if he does… this…

Thought so.

Sometimes, human beings have a fantasy unmatched, don’t they? Able to form and reform expressions on people they know that they have never seen. For example, he can imagine what you look like when you cry. Or when you’re mad. Or…

He knew you’d press your lips together, along with your eyebrows, muffling your sound once he sought out your clit and pressed against it. And not because he’s seen other women contort their faces like this; no… it’s an entirely new sensation with you.

You don’t compare to anyone. Nobody compares to you. Nobody, ever.

Sick of watching the invisible movement under your dress, he lets his eyes wander to yours, and you notice, do as he does. Eyes hooded, staring at him as if drunk — possibly, probably drunk.

Just once, he gapes down again, trying to adjust without crushing your knees with his. Comes closer. Then looks back at you. Absolutely astonished by the coloured lips drying up. Seeing your tongue peak behind your upper teeth, pushing against them.

Then you’re blinking, several times, not rapidly, but enough to indicate that you’re losing yourself, too. And then there’s some melancholy behind your gaze; he can’t say where it derives from… you seem to be coming out of a room that you kept dark for long enough.

He can’t say whether he’s further dimming the light in that room or lightening it up — and as he advances, gauging your reactions, he inwardly hopes it’s the latter.

So inwardly. So desperately.

Patience only persists for a moment; Jungkook barely believes in it. People always break. And he does when you lean forward as he drags his finger between your pussy lips, still over the clothing. You balance your weight with your arms, holding yourself up.

And then…

You so tantalisingly, softly, quietly, whisper his name.

Okay.

The snap was expected. The sigh he lets out was expected. And the way his lips finally crash against yours, making you almost fall back onto the sofa was expected, too.

But your taste… Why did he know you’d be as sweet as a cliché, like a perfume made edible? Matches your mystery and your elegance.

And the mellow, yet wanting sounds fit every move he makes. Like the moan-sigh combination when his bold hand wraps around the bun you’ve arranged your hair into. How you breathe into the kiss when he tilts your head a little, and then proceeds to loosen up said bun.

Releases it. Lets your hair fall. Pulls you in, pausing the make-out in the process, and then diving back in with a greed he’s never been met with before.

And as he kisses you, his index finger still dips into the uncharted territory below, ruining your panties some more as he soaks them; fucking loving how you whimper as a result.

No… this is ruining him just as much.

So he draws back from your body, attempting and probably failing not to look at you like an animal glaring down at his prey, ready to devour. He’s never seen this expression himself, but one or two girls have uttered quiet, “Oh-oh,” in such moments before — do you see the danger, too?

Or is he being cocky? But it’s not his fault. You make him cocky because he can never fucking say what you think! Of course he’d need the mental praise to himself — your opinion on him is too difficult to decipher.

He’ll keep the energy up. Make you shrink in his hold.

Hands under your ass, he lifts your lower body a little, amused by your wide eyes and how you wonder, “What are you d—”

Silencing the moment he uses his palms’ position to grab the hem of your panties and pull them down your legs. Over them and then on the other side of the table. The two of you won’t need those tonight.

“What does it look like that I’m doing?” he teases, smirk effective and permanent.

He likes that about himself. Maybe you’ll do, too. If not, then you at least do like how his fingers, impatient, find their way back home again, not before lifting your dress to your hips until you’re bared to him the way he’s craved.

And he pauses.

Oh, this treasure…

“You…” he starts, moving two ring-clad fingers between your folds. Testing the waters. “I’m not letting you go anywhere tonight. You’re staying right here…” He leans forwards, body on body, whispering against your lips. “Trapped under me.”

You want to answer, he thinks. Your eyebrows relax for a second, an inebriated smile playing around your mouth. If he knows you well enough, he’d guess you’re urging to dive back into your witty remarks.

But none of it is possible just yet. Because when he caresses your pussy again, increasing the pace without being too unreasonably fast, you bite your lip. He urges you to release it with his tongue. And when you do, his finger plunges in; as deeply as it can. So easily, too.

He kisses your clavicles the moment your nails get ahold of his arms, wiggling underneath him, but still caged in. And he sees the built-up frustration; how you kept yourself at bay, but can barely do it now. How you yearn for just one or two more right touches here and there before…

But before he can, he stops. Immediately, unexpectedly for you. Once again, mean, but…

“You’ll thank me later,” he utters — and with those four measly words, something awakens in you that was hidden for just the last ten minutes.

“Oh? You… you’re confident like this.”

“Of course I am.”

“Jungkook…” you say in such frustration that he thinks you’ll beg some more. But you don’t. Instead, you shake your head and say. “Men rarely manage to…”

“This isn’t rare. I’m not giving you rare, ‘kay?”

“I…”

“How…” he readjusts your body, pulling you down the couch, shifting until his knee keeps your legs apart. “How fucking insulting.”

Do you hear any of this anymore? Because your eyes are closed again. Hands still holding on; and… and body winding in order for your cunt to shift closer to him, suddenly rubbing against his knee.

It’s all you can get at the moment since his hands are so far out of reach. And the satisfaction of knowing that you’ll strive for anything at all is cosmic.

“You’re ruining my jeans,” he mocks, clicking his tongue as if to reprimand.

“Then…” You hook a finger into one of his jeans’ loops, pulling and then releasing again. “Take them off, coward.”

You don’t have to tell him twice. They say that if you have waited for so long, what’s ten more minutes? But no more. Not another second.

So he obliges immediately as he mutters, “‘Kay,” offering a helping hand when you work on his shirt. Off and to the ground. Pants off and to the back of the couch. He already knows he’ll be finding them all scattered the next morning.

But that’s the problem of just that next-morning-self.

Boxers still on, he returns to give you another initial taste of what’s to explode. The dress moves up from your hip as he slides it over your skin, stopping right under the mounds he’s still so curious about.

He needs to keep this balanced. Rush as much as might be appropriate, but not too much to make things embarrassing. This… the way he leans down again, opening your legs, erection grinding against your pussy and offering the bare minimum… this is good enough for now…

Or maybe not. Because merely a couple seconds later, you halt mid-moan, letting out breathy words that he struggles to understand until you repeat, “Is that… all you’ll be doing tonight?”

“Hmmm, you want more?”

“I— I don’t know.” Pause, a gulp when he presses his clothed length between your cunt. “Are you going to tell me your secrets if I say yes?”

His secrets?

You must be kidding. He has been an open book to you, chasing you around; if anything, he needs to unravel your mind.

But for that, he needs to play along. So he feigns the same mystery you emanate, teasing, “What do you wanna know?”

And you don’t hesitate. “Everything.”

…Hmm…

You’ve never seemed as interested as you are now. Never dove into his thoughts and the dim heart like now. If he agreed now, would you blurt out something specific? Questions that you formed when he wasn’t paying attention?

No idea. Maybe that’s something to worry about later. Pillowtalk. The morning after talk. Just anything… just not now.

He removes the obstacles currently standing between the two of you. The cushion standing against the back of the couch, constantly falling into your face. He throws it on the ground, so you don’t have to keep swatting it away.

Then, the dress covering your body. He gives a sign of wanting to proceed, and you play along, lifting yourself, chasing his lips as your outfit follows the cushion. And then, the phone right underneath the small of your back, having snuck there, undetected until you yelp, “Oh!”

“What?”

“Cold. Don’t know how it got there.”

He fishes out the device, watching it light up, a notification at the top that he can’t decode and that he doesn’t pay any mind to. Puts it on the coffee table. Then… last but not least… the uncertain atmosphere.

He says, “You want to know everything? Then make a list. I’ll tell you if I feel like it… deal?”

“You’re so…”

“You gotta make me. No other way out, baby.”

An answer lies on your tongue, ready to disrupt the moment. He knows because you look distracted all of a sudden, possibly still thinking about the same thing you did before, dissociating as he sat next to you, wine in hand.

It’s probably about work. Or about Taehyung — God, nobody at work but Jungkook would know, but you mention that guy all the time.

But tonight is not the night to think of others. So he shakes your upcoming inquiries away, giving you no time to think about it further as he, thirsty and impatient, picks you up and off the couch.

Right into his lap. Right onto his cock.

Still a layer between the two of you, watching you grind immediately. For a moment, you put him under your spell, urging him to stay right there and not move away until he’s shot buckets of cum into his boxers.

But…

But he’d rather do it in you, with you, because of truly you.

So he wastes no second as he executes his former plan, large hands sprawling over your ass before he stands with willpower and strength. He throws you a couple inches into the air, making you adjust, and then moves.

Away from the couch, stepping onto the clothes on the floor, careful not to stumble and hurt the two of you. The way to the bedroom seems endless, and you so naked… so… so his for the night. Like what, he still needs to wait those couple square metres?

Fuck, how…

No. It must be a primal instinct that hankers him to give up already, having made it halfway through the room and almost to his bedroom when he suddenly stops. Pinning you against a random free spot at the wall, right under a silent clock.

“What are you…?”

Your voice is trembling, for some reason so incredibly small. For the first time since you lay beneath him on the couch, he sees your eyes properly, and they flit back to the couch as if you’re looking where you just departed from — and then back to him.

“What are you looking for?” he whispers. Tantalisingly, he brings his fingers to your chin, pinching it lightly as he raises your head. “Hm? I’m here. Do you want to go back? Missing the couch? Wall might not be as comfortable, huh…”

“No… that’s not a problem. I’m just… surprised by the change.”

You do look surprised. A little cheekier again as your tone rises, your head falling to the side, lips smiling as if to distract him from something bigger. As if there’s anything bigger in existence right now than you.

“It was just sudden,” you conclude.

“Is that bad?”

“Not at all. I’m just curious.”

He doesn’t need to ask what about. He sees it in this expecting gaze of yours that you want to read and decrypt his next steps. And you can have them.

Because he lets you go, making you fall silently on your feet, kissing you once before he falls to his knees. You groan when he grabs your leg, placing it on his shoulder, restless when his lips charge for your open folds.

He offers you, “Curious, huh? No need,” before kissing your clit, adding another, “Just indulge in it… no need to use your pretty brain today,” and then attaching his mouth and tongue to your dripping pussy.

Digging his large nose into you, tickling your nub, he swirls his tongue around, slurping you up like his favourite drink. Holy fuck, you taste good. He could eat you up, down you in one like a shot. Stay right here all night.

You get ahold of a patch of his hair, but don’t pull — somehow, he wishes you would. Instead, you seem to focus on your body, trying not to fall, keeping it upright. You’re winding, your leg moving, and he soon wraps an arm around your thigh to keep you from stirring too much.

And with the other, he targets your cunt, mouth moving up to make space for the digits to easily, effortlessly slide into you. You gasp, just a bit louder when the metal touches your hot sex, calling his name — and for possibly the first time, he hears you curse, “Fuck. Fuck, I’m— I’m going to pass out.”

Oh my God.

If he could lick you to unconsciousness, he’d feel shocked and proud at once. He wants to see you become weightless, wants to catch you in his arms, and then bring you to his bedroom, still delirious, and fuck your brain out of you.

He wants you so bad. He wants to fuck you so fucking badly. His cock aches, godfuckingdamn.

As he rolls his tongue, lips kissing yours, moving his head left and right as he makes out with your pussy, he almost pulls all the way through. Nearly gives into your body language, nose moving over your clit, fingers pumping in and out, breathing into your pussy hotly.

But he has other plans. He wants to see your damn tears; wants you to unleash all your desperation. So, just when your sounds change, less pauses between them, high-pitched, heavy breathing, he stops.

Draws back, watching you press your ass into the wall, head suddenly hanging low. You whisper, “No…” as he looks up in satisfaction, waiting for you to say more.

You’re out of breath, exhaling through half gritted teeth, a palm on his chest as he rises again. You declare, “I’m going to blueball you, too.”

But the adrenaline has poured buckets of confidence over Jungkook already, and he’s drenched in it as much as in your scent, cocking an eyebrow as he challenges, “You can try.”

“I’m gonna suck your dick so fucking slow.”

“Do it,” he keeps the mask up, wondering how much of the effect you saw upon gracing him with such a provocative image, “let’s see if you make it this far. Might just fuck you into space before that, you know?”

He lets out an unsteady breath, a strand of your hair swaying upon impact. His hand taps at your thigh, testing whether you’ve closed your legs again; and as he realises that you haven’t, much to his pleasure, he palms your pussy, heel of his hand pressing against your clit.

“You’re trying to set me off, because you know you can, right?” he questions, for a split moment distracted by the teeth gnawing at your lower lip. “Smart of you. You are truly smart, babe… but you’re also mine tonight. So don’t play games.”

A slap lands on your vulnerable pussy, and he understands your frustration as you open your mouth, the lower lip previously captive rolling back into place. Soft and gorgeous.

No matter the fading distance, there’s still something inexplicable in the air, as if he can’t really separate a dream from reality. As if he needs evidence that this isn’t yet another figment of his imagination; the ones he’s awoken from several times, underwear threatening to burst.

The hand just torturing your cunt wanders up your body and settles around your neck, like a chain or a necklace or a motherfucking leash. He feels home here, just like this. With your fingers on his wrist, gulping under his touch.

Pinned firmly against the wall, he looks down to where you’re dripping and he’s standing tall, gripping the ever-twitching length that is begging for more. Begging for relief. He’s doing this to himself — because his body is burning up, as if scorched by sun flares.

He’s doing this to the both of you.

The kiss underneath your ear as he leans in. And the still harmless yet sinful touch between his tip and your folds. How he holds the shaft firmly, leading the head between your pussy lips, teasing until just an inch intrudes your awaiting hole.

He moans the moment you do, moving, fucking just the first of the tip into you; scrambling his own thoughts as he says, “God, I could just slide in… you’re so, so wet.”

“What… why say this if you won’t do it?”

Guess you’ve figured him out well enough. Guess that’s the cockiness you implied when you called him a fuckboy in that stupid museum. Or how you kept a safe distance — because thinking about it, maybe Jungkook could be someone to break somebody’s heart.

No. He knows he is. But…

He shakes the thought off his brain, returning to this very moment where you’re waiting for his answer, a heart made of steel. You won’t let him hurt you; you know better than that. You could dodge him easily.

Mentally, at least. Physically, you’re under his mercy.

So he uses this weakness, muttering under his breath, “I will, I will… but not here. We can do better than here.”

Wasn’t this just a pit stop after all? What he’s seeking is still waiting in his bedroom, soft sheets spread over the cold mattress, waiting for a body to warm it up. Or two.

Already hot and bothered, Jungkook lets you go entirely; and the next minute happens in a blur, as though he’s struggling with recognising his own apartment. Suddenly self-conscious about everything and nothing at once.

With you in his grip, he walks along the dark, small corridor; then past the paintings, through the door, into a well-managed, tidy bedroom until he’s sat your ass down. It happens within the tiniest moment — he could narrate how you got here but he can barely recall it.

Dick at the same height as your mouth, he wraps his hand around it. You don’t initiate anything of what you promised, looking into his eyes with a question; he knows you want to avenge yourself and provide the same vanity, but you’d rather skip to the best part.

He wants to, too.

So he doesn’t ram his cock into your mouth, hitting the farthest spot until you gag. Instead, he relishes the image mentally and quietly, fantasising about the warmth of your spit, about the tongue swirling around.

And then… then he goes a step further and imagines the even extended pleasure if he dug into your pussy now, maximising whatever your mouth could make him feel.

Are his thoughts too straight-forward? If he spelled them out like this, one by one, would you find him weird? Too eager? Obsessed?

Maybe he should slow down. Just a bit.

Which is why he holds his shaft closer to you, still surprised when you don’t open up, hints of the past confusion alternating with your confident, mysterious, teasing self. It’s weird to witness. But your eyes are still hazy at least. You don’t seem to want to stop.

God. He can’t figure it out. Not figuring out is agitating even in this moment.

But… good energies. Good energies. All the pent-up frustration needs to be morphed into sheer craze. He can do that.

“Spit on it,” he orders.

You only hum. Something in your gaze changes again, eyelids fluttering, as if awoken from trance. But you’re willing. Immediately mimicking him as you bring a thumb to a mole on the protruding veins. Tracing them, all the way back to his balls until you touch them just lightly, but enough for him to nearly lose his shit.

“Fuck, I said,” he reprimands, though delighted by the sudden rapture, “spit on it.”

You nod as if carrying out a task given by your manager; perhaps used to the last days and weeks when he’d command you around. Ask for another meeting, or for your opinion on a song, or just to keep him company to keep him productive.

Or, to keep you close to him. Lost in thoughts. Many thoughts. And even though none of them became a reality in that room, none of the equipment shoved aside to sit you on the desk, this… this right here is more than enough.

You suck in your cheeks, collecting spit, and when you lean forward… you make such a mess. Spitting onto the tip, a string still connecting your lips and his dick, leftover saliva dripping down your chin and then on your tits.

The view is… worth diamonds.

Do you even know?

“Okay,” he utters, no real direction in his mind, no real sentence to utter. “Okay.”

But you’re equipped with ideas, immediately getting onto the trail you left, spreading the spit over his cock, down to the base. The tip and the slit glisten, traces of precum mixing with your drool, but it’s not enough to cover his length all over.

So he mutters a mental, “More,” to himself, tapping your lips until you open, sticking two of his fingers in and pressing against your tongue. Lubricating his digits, he rolls them over your tongue, far enough to nearly make you gag until he draws back.

Watching you work on him rolls a wave of satisfaction over him. He’s proud, enduring like this. Because judging from the creature you are, as if jumped out of dark mythology, he truly expected to give up way earlier.

But he remains steadfast; eager to not explode until he’s filled you up first. Drawn out your own highs.

“Sweetheart, aren’t you a good one?” Jungkook praises, helping you out with whatever his fingers gathered in your mouth. Then, grabs your wrist, pushing you away, hovering above you with a, “Turn around.”

You gulp again. Then shift back on his bed, sighing as you feel the soft silk underneath your skin, kissing and hugging your body. The sight is gorgeous, with you fleeing to the back of the mattress, obliging so easily. Prey.

And…

“Holy fuck.”

Holy fuck, how you look when you finally get into position. Ass up, upper body down. And the arms over your head? What in the world.

Okay… okay…

Wait. You’re saying something.

His knees dig into the mattress, hand unconsciously pumping his cock — he doesn’t even know when he started — as he moves closer, over your body. Kisses your shoulder, bringing his ear close to hear before, “Huh? What’d you say?”

“I’m already so spent.”

“Ah… do you want to stop?”

“No… you made me feel spent. But you’re not done, are you?”

Pause. Bright smirk. Then, “Of course not. Does it feel like it?” Another kiss to your shoulder, wet this time. “Condom or not?”

“Oh.” Seems you hadn’t even thought about this yet. Kind of nice. “I’m… I use an IUD. Have you… slept with many people lately?”

No answer yet. He thinks. Thinks back to the several weeks since he met you. Should he say it? Would you back away if he did? Years ago, there’d be no debate about it — he wouldn’t have told you. Kept it to himself.

Perhaps there’s still a part of him that’d dodge your question, but he somehow feels like you’d see through him. Hear the insincerity.

Fuck, is that selfish? Maybe. Doesn’t he already know that he is? But he’s not bad; and people are selfish.

So a second later, he truthfully admits, “Once. Two or so weeks ago. Nothing special though, just dumb, drunk shit. Some girl from a club. And I tested after.”

As soon as the sentence finishes, he wonders if you deem yourself just another one of those. But… in all honesty. She was a one night stand whose sounds, name, dirty talk did nothing to him.

All he could imagine was you. Perhaps not out of loyalty, but surely out of curiosity.

He can’t fathom his thoughts into feelings yet; he still wouldn’t describe his attitude towards you as falling in love or anything. That’d be too far stretched. But he thought about it — that maybe he liked you too much.

Yet, his heart remained empty; but his body never did. He feels bad; and still, he won’t deny whatever his skin and mind whisper to him.

Other than that, he could probably declare with quite a firm certainty that you don’t feel any different about him. You can’t be.

So maybe this is good enough for now.

“But know what?” he says, voice lower, repeating his thoughts. “Could only imagine what it’d be like if it was you. This pussy,” strokes his cock along your cunt, “and this body,” touches the small of your back, “these thoughts got me going. And you’re so much better in reality.”

“Mmmh,” is all you utter, nearly hiding your face in the pillow before you say, “maybe… maybe we can still use a condom then.”

Shit. Expected it.

But okay. Okay.

Where are the condoms again… bedside table? No. He used the last one ages ago, before he knew you. He gets up; walks to the closet; somewhere near his socks, there must be a new pack. A moment to think.

For a second, he looks back at you. You’re still the same, only with the ass having dropped again, losing balance and energy. And maybe, you’re still drunk, too — probably, because even he still feels the world spin, careful not to close his eyes for too long.

Okay. One… no, two foils out. As he turns back to you, nearing you, his head is just a little calmer than a minute again, and he wonders… were all the thoughts his own? The past half an hour or however much passed, didn’t he spiral more and more?

Did you notice? He shakes his head. Who cares?

Not him, not right now. He keeps telling himself that with a goddess waiting in front of him on all fours, he probably doesn’t need to worry about anything unless there’s a reason to. You’ve been cooperative and the night has been successful, minus the strange gazes you keep throwing at him periodically.

“Alright, baby. Up you come,” he mumbles, bringing your ass back to his crotch. His hands are already trained and incredibly skilled; doing work on the condom doesn’t take him more than a couple seconds. “I should tell you now.”

You pause. Suck in some breath, as if expecting something in particular. You agree with an unmatched thirst for knowledge, “…Tell me.”

“I don’t tend to go easy. If you need me to be, you’ll have to tell me. ‘Kay?”

“I… I can take a lot more than you think.”

Fuck. He’ll wreck your shit. “Perfect. You’re honestly a good one, huh? Such a good girl for real, no— no, you’re the best.”

Is he just saying whatever now? Perhaps he should stop boring you and get to it. Right? Please, the goddamn, blood-filled tower down there is desperately imploring him to.

He collects spit like you did before, targeting your glinting pussy, one blob right onto it. Then, he brings his fingers back to where they love to be, distributing the filth between your folds. And then, two fingers into the tightening hole.

Right before moving north, between your ass cheeks, thumb rolling over your other clenching hole.

And you tense immediately, without saying a word, taking it quietly. Then… then he finally starts.

Brings the annoying rubber to your soaked pussy, poking for a second before he gets serious and eventually dips in. The free hand raises your ass some more, and he shifts forwards, your butt backwards, helping him get in further.

He hears the reaction. Hears the almost-screech in a second, nails biting into the pillow over your head. You hold onto it for dear life as he slowly bottoms out, your sporadic breathing and high-pitched moans mingling with his own bursts of lust.

Deep creases appear between his eyebrows, lips bitten sore, and once his waist has finally connected with your ass, he takes a deep, long inhale. Watches your face disappear deeper into the pillow, sounds muffled.

Enjoys it for a moment before he starts moving slowly. Out, in. Concentrating before he might spill too early. Beads of sweat shimmer on his forehead, dampening the hanging strands of hair. You feel good. Too fucking good—

He wants to go off right away. But… focus.

“How’s that?” he asks.

“Stop… stop talking.”

Oh. Bold. But a good sign, isn’t it? If you wanted him to stop, you’d say it. So he keeps going… dares just a little more, courageous, encouraged by your cooperation. Explores your ass and what lies between the cheeks more, groaning before he says, “You stop that.”

His hand reaches for your wrists, keeping you from tearing his pillow and leading your fingers to where his touched your ass before. You keep your touch there, unmoving until he says, “Keep them apart.”

And you seem to understand. His thumb returns to your unoccupied hole as his cock impales your pussy whole, still going at a tormenting pace. Thick and soaked, he’s splitting you in two; maybe that’s why the slow plunges are such a plague. Because both of you know there could be more.

Pulling your ass cheeks apart, you remain with your face in the sheets, arms trembling as he circles your hole again. He doesn’t know if you’re into this; doesn’t know if you’ll protest. So far, he’s been pretty obvious with his intentions, and he’s sure you must understand this one, too.

And you’re not fearful; if something bothered you, you wouldn’t hesitate to voice your displeasure. So he spits one more time, right onto his thumb, using the lubrication to carefully, curiously dip the tip of his thumb into your ass.

You yelp immediately; as your hole tightens around the little bit of his thumb, your pussy narrows around his cock, too, and he nearly loses it. Nearly drools onto your back as his mouth drops open, blinking rapidly for a second.

God, your body reacts with such intensity. Still, he makes sure, “Too much?”

And you, candidly, reply, “I don’t know. I… think so.”

“Okay. Then I’ll sto—”

“No. No, wait… I want to— I want to know what it’s like.”

Thought so. He knew that underneath all the chic charade, you crave just as much as he does. And if it’s him that you long for, then what even stands between him and the rocket shooting his ego to the sky?

This feels good. Really good… not just physically. You lift his spirits.

Ready with an exhale, he dares his thumb deeper, letting more of it disappear in you. Out of all the women he’s ever been with, not more than a handful has been willing to venture into this part of sexual desire. Most of them can’t stand the discomfort, and some of them don’t feel any particular way about it.

But you lay open to him in every way possible. An open book for once; easy to read, as if calculating how you wind, planning how to sound, guiding him fearlessly.

Soon, he’s adjusting his thrusts to your moans, and you’re adjusting your moans to his thrusts. Synchronised, the two of you groan and cry out together, and he makes sure to keep you filled to the brim, reducing the pauses between the shoves bit by bit.

Until…

“Hey,” he whispers, waiting for you to react, but as he pumps into you, slowly yet balls-deep, you don’t do anything much but scream into the pillow. So he just continues, “How much do you think you can take, baby?”

“I… I’m—”

You’re attempting your best, but you’re tongue-tied. With each push, he catapults your body forwards, but your mind is long lost in the stratosphere. With gritted teeth and a rising, heavily breathing, golden chest, he leans in close to you, hand snaking under you and around your neck as he retries, “So?”

“I don’t know,” you blurt, and as you raise your head and look back at him, he sees a sight to behold — mascara underneath your eyes, lipstick smeared, a quivering chin. He’s fucking you so good; he must be, because you soon add, “Just do an—and I’ll let you know.”

“Good idea. Very good idea.”

He’s fucking you good. But it’s not all he’s got; not all he’s wanted for days and weeks.

No. If he unleashed all he’s been fabricating in his mind, he’d drench your cheeks in tears. And now that you permitted him to, he might just go ahead, right?

Right.

Which is why the next steps come easy to him, naturally, as if you pressed a button he’s been waiting to smash. A big, red one, like the ones in games urging you to not touch or you’d lose. But by God, right now, he’s not losing.

If he looked into his reflection in the dark window, he’d see a winner through and through.

A fiery rage courses through his burning veins. A face contorting when he lets you go, only to move his fingers back, wrapping them around the back of your neck. Shoving you into the mattress, ramming his cock into you, once more keeping the familiar pace and then—

And then he closes his eyes. Matches an expression to your yelps. Drives into your deepest core and picks up speed until, all of a sudden, it turns jarring.

Jungkook doesn’t get enough. He doesn’t know if he ever will; damn the approaching end of this. There shouldn’t be one; he should be capable of ruining you forever. Maybe he will be.

For now, he directs his thoughts fully on how you feel and how you sound, uncaring about the jagged breathing that burns up his chest. Leaning forward, he attempts twice until he catches your ears, nibbling at your earlobe.

At first, he doesn’t know if you register the touch, given that he’s occupying you with far crazier sensations. But then you reach out a hand, panting into the pillow, grabbing a patch of his hair.

And he, fired up and insane, leans back, gripping your wrist, removing it from his mane and pinning it to your back instead. Your face moves to the side, not muffled by the pillow anymore, and you gasp for air before you beg, “Please, I’m about to—”

That’s all you get, because he soon interrupts with a cheeky, “You can hold on for a bit longer,” pausing on purpose. He wants to see you when you come. Wants to wipe more of your make up across your face. Wants to kiss the colour of your lipstick onto his own lips.

Letting your orgasm fade, he waits, just a couple seconds, allowing you to catch your breath until your eyebrows furrow. You blink repeatedly, then looking up into his eyes, and it’s all he needs to feel his patience dissipate again.

Jungkook gets into a new position, leaving one knee deep in the mattress while angling the other leg, planting its foot on the sheets. He keeps his cock from falling out, leading the tip and the shaft back in before he resumes to fuck you wound.

Your arm is still hostage to his grip, the nails of your other hand gripping the sheet for dear life. It’s gorgeous, the view from where Jungkook looks down at his meal. Crazy how you purr and whine when he leans in, touching your swollen clit, electrifying you. And he keeps looking at you.

At the upper body waving a white flag, too weak to keep yourself upright anymore. And then, the ass in the air staying firmly at its place, his dick aiding you, the flesh of your cheeks wobbling with each thrust, like an ocean wave. Whenever it collides with his hips, the slaps resound temptingly, and Jungkook soon mimics it by letting his hand fall hard on your ass.

You mewl, calling out his name twice, the second cry half uttered, half of the Jungkook omitted. And when you catch the tiniest of your breaths, still working with drying lungs, you say, “L-let me come, please—”

“Wait,” he says again, still sadistic, still masochistic, absolutely out of his mind before an idea lights up his mind. “This isn’t it yet.”

The finger working on your nub was an evil tactic, he’s got to admit. Perhaps he led you to believe something he’s not ready to give you yet, and once you seem to realise, you let out a sob.

And he’s positively delighted once he stops. Lowers his head to look at you. Sees the dark, smeared mascara on his pillow when he digs his fingers in your hair, pulling your head back as he says, “I know. You thought we were done, right? We’re not done, though.”

“Wha—”

He lets his body fall onto the mattress, right next to you, and pulls you in, back against his chest. Hand under your tits, pressing against them, moving them up and down before pinching your nipple once.

“I said,” he repeats, probably unnecessarily, because he doesn’t think you actually demand an answer, “I’m not done. Understand?”

And as expected, you don’t nod or answer. You only push your body further into his, and he reckons that’s a mighty sufficient implication already.

As you lay sideways with a breath as heavy as his, his exhales hot against your ear, you let out sounds reminiscent of marathon runners. You’re exhausted, sweaty, and so is he — but neither of you are finished, and he’d be damned if he permitted the night to end like this.

Diligently, he throws your quivering leg over his; your impish remarks have lessened since he took over, and in turn, his own insolent emotions are reigning supremely. He leads his submerged, rock-hard, twitching cock to your battered cunt, pushing in so easily he thinks he’s dreaming.

It’s like putting a key into its lock.

“Ahh, fuck.” It’s hard to fully bottom out in this position, but he can touch you so much better now. He lets his hands explore your bare body, fondling with your tits, kissing your ear and jaw. “Hold tight. You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart.”

It’s cruel, he knows; the gentle praises as he wreaks havoc down there. He crosses your wrists against your tummy, holding them tight, and you close to him. Fucks you dumb and stupid as you wail in his arms. Moves to your clit and gives it pleasant, gentle rubs, so opposite from the rest of his ministrations.

And the pressure builds. His balls, hard as steel, prepare to shoot their load into you, his cock impossibly stiff, but… but…

You haven’t come yet. And this position won’t do. Can’t do, won’t do, he needs to see you.

So he echoes, “Won’t do,” as he gets up again, keeping the previous position short lived. Doesn’t stay away for too long before he’s on his knees, pulling your legs apart, after the briefest interruptions deep inside again before he leans into you.

And then, everything happens crazy fast.

How he keeps you from wrapping your arms around him; instead, capturing your wrists once again, raising them next to your head. How he moves to kiss you for the first time after quite a while, intertwining your tongues, moaning hard as he feels his high approach.

The fast pace changes a little as he loses his mind and focus, one of the strokes stopping as he almost pulls out, and then plunges in again. Your fingers curl in, nails sharp enough to dig into the digits that hold you, and he cries out in delight, letting a breathy chuckle fall.

He says, “Alright, yeah. Next time… we’re tying you up. Love how you whine.” He lets one hand go, gripping your face again and you move your touch to his shoulder immediately, gasping. “You always p-play the mysterious girl, huh? But you’re so pathetic right now.”

The inhibitions are out the window. The overthinking, too. Whatever he thought might make you run away from him has long exited his mind, because he’s got you right here, under his control, nearing the end.

There’s no going back. No return to his yearning, because you’ve satisfied it so thoroughly.

Time to give it all back to you. One last time before he submerges himself in all his glorious egotism.

“There we go,” he says as he watches your expressions change. You open your mouth but don’t say anything. He doesn’t know what your orgasm feels like, but he knows you’re going through it. “Let it all out. Cream my cock, I fucking dare you.”

He’s saying whatever now, he knows. But he doesn’t have the capacity to think much as creases appear on your forehead and between your eyebrows, tongue mingling with his for a short moment when he goes in for another kiss, barely succeeding.

You’re trembling, lifting your hips as much as the weight above you allows, wanting more friction, more of a touch inside your pussy, on your clit, everywhere. And then, when you do come… when he brings the stars from the sky into your eyes…

Yours roll back into your head. Throwing it back, giving him access to your neck. Lips still apart, and he uses it to push a finger into your mouth, on top of your tongue. And fuck… how your pussy constricts. How it tightens so fucking much.

He’d be lying if he said it didn’t affect him.

So much so that his head spins; and as he feels himself getting dizzy, he buries his face in the pillow next to your head before moving it to kiss your shoulder. Barely looks at you anymore; doesn’t care, it’s his high now, he wants to fucking come, and that’s it.

Finally, finally he’s gotten to this point.

Will he hate himself for these thoughts later? Is this too over the top? He doesn’t know and he doesn’t care, doesn’t care.

His thoughts are occupied, alright, don’t need another string of questions to intervene. His attention remains resolutely on his movements, vigorous, rhythmic, your sounds perfectly matching each of his strokes.

And your hands, the poor little palms, unsure where to settle. This isn’t new; across this broad back of his, every girl’s touch wanders like this. Your nails scratch the small of his back, then up his spine, across the muscles of his shoulder blades.

The fact that you’re a goner as much as him, giving yourself to him is probably the last of reassurances he needs — as if any more were required. Because still panting into your skin, eyes shut tight, he works towards the peak of his sanity, exhausted but eager as he relishes the wet tightness of your pussy; surrounding him just right, still clenching, unclenching from your orgasm.

And then—

“Ohhh, fuck,” he whispers.

His voice is shaking uncontrollably; he barely recognises it. Which… must mean this is new, right? Experience be damned, apparently you spark off phenomena nobody has ever acquainted him with before.

And oh, how you make it worse once he finally emerges again, as if catching his breath after holding it underwater for too long. Your eyes are hooded as he gets on his knees over your body, caging your hips in between his legs. Gripping one of your tits, you nibble your lower lip for a second before letting out laboured breathing, nose flaring.

It’s all he needs. All that’s left when he rips off the condom and envelops his filthy cock with his veiny hand, stroking immediately and hard. Close to the end as he rushes to ask, “Where do you want it?”

You understand what he’s asking, and nod, back to yourself when you utter mysteriously, “Anywhere but inside…” Okay. No time to ask why not — but he wouldn’t have anyway. He obliges, giving his all, one more second left before you tell him just in time, “Here.”

Your palm rubs across your skin, moving over your tits and your stomach. So he’s quick to opt away from your face and redirect his aim to where you pointed, moaning out a couple last, broken vocals before he finally spills.

Milky white, multiple blotches scattered over your skin, like a modern art painting. He’d rather draw these all day than be stuck with you in a museum restaurant, staring from afar, wishing he could reach out under the goddamn public table.

Going until he’s empty, he senses a relief unknown to him thus far, mind suddenly vacant. Once again, the ocean; he feels like the ocean. Like the water as it stills and calms after a thunderous storm. You lifted the waves of his sea high above and have now turned him into a lazy, peaceful lake.

God, he should fuck you more often; you make him a poet.

Okay. Okay, where was he?

When did he unfocus? Dizzy all of a sudden. He puffs out a breath. Then takes another look at you. Watches as you spread the sticky substance over your mounds, touching your nipple, so indecently messy.

The smirk is unintentional but inevitable, reaching far as he shakes his head at you. You smile back wordlessly, and he lets his fingertip run over his cum, too, bringing it to your lips as he asks, “Taste?”

You don’t answer. Thinking for the barest second before you scoff, stretching out your tongue before he puts the finger on it; closing your eyes, sucking it clean. He groans at the feeling; luckily, he’ll be immobile for the foreseeable future, or he’d bend you over again.

“Okay. That should be enough for now,” he breathes, letting himself fall next to you. “I promise I’m a lot more energised on other days. But…” He turns towards you, pinching your chin, bringing your face close. “God, did you take me out there. I’m beat.”

He doesn’t kiss you; only drops back, still filling his lungs with new oxygen. Pity — he still wants you, but his muscles are aching. Eyes shutting.

Then opening again when he hears you laugh, right before you say, “You don’t need to prove your endurance to me. I’ve got a pretty good idea of it now. Besides— let’s be honest. I didn’t do much.”

“Oh, you did more than enough, sweetheart,” Jungkook retorts with a snicker, giving his eyes some relief. He sighs, and then adds, “Your existence did it for me already. Wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”

He shoves his arm under his head, the other untidily covering the two of you with the blanket; whatever. He’ll wash it tomorrow. For now, the two of you should probably get some rest. Although—

Did you say you wanted to stay? He didn’t catch it if you did. Perhaps he’s also just inattentive; suddenly remembers that he still has a long way to go socially, remembering that permission is courtesy. Selfish, selfish, selfish.

“Uhm,” he starts; this is awkward. He doesn’t do this often — not many stay overnight anyway. Strangely, he didn’t question it with you; maybe because he wants you to. “Do you want me to bring you home?”

“In all honesty, I… I don’t think you can drive tonight. We’re both not sober yet, so I’ll just leave in the morning. Need to be in the office by noon.”

“Ah? Why?”

“Meeting with Tae. I forgot that he wanted to go through a few organisational things for the upcoming concert.”

Concert preparations. Organisational things. The company.

Jungkook forgot about it all. Responsibilities still exist. Of course, he needs to be in the office tomorrow afternoon, too. This is his dream, his goal, everybody’s eyes on him, the biggest source of entertainment in the country.

Feels so stupid, forgetting you’ll leave at some point. That he can’t flip you over again all day tomorrow, that you’ll be occupied somewhere else, with someone else. Jungkook grits his teeth.

“You wanna come over again tomorrow night?” he asks.

And all of a sudden, despite the last hour, you seem lost in thoughts again. Probably tired, but he can’t help but overthink. You don’t answer immediately, keeping him on the edge, and as he thinks you’ve fallen asleep, he looks over, seeing your eyes open when you say, “Don’t know. Might have a couple things to tend to.”

Ah… okay. Sure.

Where’s your mind right now, he wonders?

Maybe circling around work. Maybe your urge to go is as little as his? All these things, they don’t sound too delightful right now, do they?

Concert preparations. Organisational things. The company. Tae.

When did you start using his nickname like this? Weird. Didn’t know the two of you were so close. Then again, does it matter? No. He shakes his head.

Shakes it slowly, making sure you don’t notice, sighing again before he breaks into a smile. It’s okay. You’re next to him. Not next to Taehyung. His friend. You’re covered in him. So he doesn’t let another’s name fog his brain, instead seeking peace and succeeding until—

“Don’t worry, another time,” you say, following up with a goosebump-inducing, “I’ll stick around until my feet tingle.”

Somewhere… at some point in his life… under probably not the best circumstances—

Wait.

THE FIC ISN'T OVER YET!! PLS READ 👇🏼

as always, tumblr hates content creators and has a 1k block limit. which is why you can read the rest of the story in this reblog hehe we're almost at the end <3

#jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fic #jungkook imagine #jungkook

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gldrushh · 6 months ago

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GUILTY AS SIN? | JK | PART 𝐈

"You are stuck in time, and Jungkook doesn't stop running from it until he eventually does, and you learn that grief doesn’t wait for death, that love isn't all that dignifying."

→ Pairing brother in law!Jungkook × widowed fem!reader

→ Genre forbidden love! au, childhood friends to lovers, angst, smut

→ W.C 17. 32k

→ Warnings unrequited love :(, oc is in love with his older brother, early character death of the said older brother who is haunting the narrative, cute childhood sweethearts who are doomed by me, mentions of dealing with grief and acceptance, mention of cancer, a minor scene where harassment is attempted,emotionally troubled! oc, emotionally troubled and detached! jk, simp jk, pathetic man in love, he's so so lovesick, ceo! jk, protective jk, yearning, pining, loads of angst, fluff if you squint, breif yoongi mention, namjin yay!!,rich people party, mentions of anxiety,sexual tension,slow burnish,smut (omg everyone look away), kissing, unprotected sex (raw and deep, next question),dirty talking, oc is insecure,hickies,oral (f! Receiving), he cums in his pants,big dick jk, soft Dom Jungkook, fingering, penetrative sex, creampie, praise, cuddles if you squint again

→ Playlist Guilty as sin, control, killing me softly with his song, do I wanna know?

→ A/N the idea of this one shot came to me at 1 am when I was supposed to be studying for a test that probably my future depends upon and after much much complementing I'm finally posting it. To me, its very experimental and I was just trying to explore my writing style and writing things that I haven't before, like smut 🫠 so please please bear that in mind!! I hope you enjoy reading and if you did please comment!! It makes my whole day 🥰💕💕

P.S: cross posted on wattpad.

| PART 1 | PART 2 |

It is a believed fact that it takes three to four short months to fall in love.

For you, it took one summer. The summer spent watching him sketch galaxies in the dirt with a twig, summer spent learning the way his laughter sounded after stealing popsicles from the freezer, summer spent holding his hand as they made paper planes under the blazing sun. It was the kind of love that grew roots so deep, you couldn’t separate where he ended and you began.

That summer, you met Minho. The boy next door with a mind as wild as his curls and a heart so warm it seemed to shine blindingly bright. He showed you how to climb trees, told stories he'd crafted all by himself, convincing you that the universe could be held in the palm of your hand. He shared his world with you, and you fell in love with it.

You kissed his cheek on the porch of your house one late July evening, bold and brimming with the kind of confidence only childhood summers could bring. “Now you’re gonna have to marry me, Min Min,” you teased, hands behind your back, your toes curling against the wooden floorboards.

He blushed, a shade of red that rivaled the setting sun, but his grin mirrored yours.

The porch of your house was a witness to many things. Your first steps, held your first scraped knees, your first dog and Minho's new brother; your new friend.

A boy of your age, younger than Minho had appeared from right behind him, his hands clutching onto Minho's flannel, his watchful eyes going everywhere all at once. The kind of boy who never spoke unless he had to, the kind who was more familiar with loss than comfort, lingering on the edges of things, unsure if he belonged.

Jungkook.

Now, Jeon Jungkook.

You and his brother had taken it upon themselves to bring him into your fold, turning your duo into a trio. With time, he laughed with you both, trusted you both, became one of you both.

The three of you were inseparable— in the backyard of your house, in elementary school, in high school. How could you not be? You had tied the promise in the form of handmade friendship bracelets around the wrist of both boys.

Even though what you wanted with minho was far from friendship. A bold dreamer, you always have been. But not so much when you turned sixteen. Sixteen; what a awkward age.

An age of overthinking haircuts, dreams, and the lives your peers are gonna live all at once. Visits to the school councilor are doubled. Relationships happen; Friends part.

But you only grew closer with Jungkook. He didn’t seemed interested in making a move on the timid, short haired girl who passed him notes in chemistry class, neither did he talk much about the future. When you asked him what he wanted to do, he’d shrug and say something like, “Whatever makes sense at the time.” He wasn’t aimless, exactly—just grounded in a way that made you think he didn’t feel the need to plan everything out.

Minho, though, was spiraling.

He now spent more time with the councilor that he spent with you both. Had this bitter look on his face every morning you saw him on the bus stop that will have you sharing a knowing look with Jungkook—Minho had been having a lot of fights with his dad, had been overthinking a lot more because the world seemed so much bigger than he had imagined.

Maybe for the eldest son and heir to a family that ran a company as old as the town itself, the world really was big. But to you, he was just a hopeful boy with all the colors in his eyes. The colors that you loved. The colors that didn't belong in a office, crunching numbers.

Your heart ached for him, but you didn’t know what to say. At sixteen, nobody has the answers.

Seventeen is a different story. It's a starlight dream. It's you acing the college entrance test. It's Minho surfacing back. It's Minho kissing you on that very same porch, promising, “One day, we’ll have our own porch, and I’ll kiss you there every day.”

And he was one to keep his promises.

You married him at twenty-five, in crisp autumn. To your family and friends, it was "About time." To you, it was nothing short of a dream as you walked to promise forever to the man you love, a vision in white. It was nothing big, just a dreamy intimate affair with soft twinkling string lights. Something you both agreed on. Because you were content with what you had, overjoyed actually after picking out a quite cozy apartment for the both of you and landing a job as a humanities professor in a university that wasn't too far from the said apartment. Minho was too and while things weren't the same with his father now, he did what he loved. Ever the artist at heart.

It was like everything you ever wrote in your middle school diary, everything you wished for was now laid under your feet like a carpet unfolding.

You were given a good time before it started pulling away from your feet.

At first, it was subtle. A missed dinner here, a canceled hangout there. Then he told you both he’d taken up an opportunity abroad to manage the family business, something Minho had no interest in, just on the night of your wedding after he had fulfilled his role of the groom's best man, watched you walk down the aisle.

You hadn’t seen the decision coming—not that night, not like this—but you couldn’t deny it either. Jungkook had seemed restless here, especially after finishing college.Conversations with him in those days had been brief, distracted, his eyes darting to the distance even as he smiled at you. It felt as you were trying to talk to the Jungkook who had appeared on your porch the first time. He hadn’t asked for understanding, and you hadn’t known how to offer it. His reasons were vague, more like placeholders for something unsaid. And so he left, quietly, with little fanfare, and though Minho seemed sad to see him go, you could tell he understood.

“It’s good for him,” Minho had said. “He deserves something for himself.”

Relationship happened; Friends parted.

You weren't sure if you understood. While you agreed with Minho, you couldn’t help but feel the loss of a friend now that his calls became less frequent until they stopped altogether. One day, he was simply gone, leaving behind only the memory of the boy who had once trusted you with his rare, precious smiles.

"You’d laugh if you saw me right now. I tried to fix the leaky sink in the kitchen, and now the entire floor is flooded. Minho’s being no help—just standing there laughing."

"Hey, stranger. Our anniversary is next weekend. We’re just doing a small dinner. You should come. Seriously, koo, don’t make me guilt-trip you."

"Saved you a slice of cake, but Minho ate it. You’d better show up next year, or I’ll stop saving you anything."

"Hey, Koo. Just checking in. Hope you're healthy and happy. Would love to hear from you"

You'd text him timely, in hopes that he still knows how to use a phone. But apparently, not.

Still, you had Minho. Your husband, your best friend.

Until you didn't.

Until the carpet was at last, snatched right down from your feet.

The diagnosis came in the spring. It started with a faint weakness in his voice. A shortness of breath he dismissed with a wave of his hand. “Just tired,” he’d say, smiling that same easy smile. But tired turned into tests. Tests turned into results. And results turned into a diagnosis that was oh so cruel.

Leukemia. Early stages. Aggressive.

The months that followed were a blur of hospital visits, treatments, and quiet nights where you held him as he cried. You tried to be strong, for him, for both of you. Told him what the doctor in the sterile white office will tell you. "They've caught it early so we're not at a great risk here." You'd reassure him. "You have yet to get away from me, min min." You'd try making him laugh but he had always been better at that.

Now, suddenly he wasn't. The next two years, your life was just the slow, agonizing process of watching the man you loved fade away, losing every bit of his lively soul to the cancer, holding his hand when he was too weak to hold yours back.

Perhaps it wasn't only Minho who was chipping away. It was you too.

You turned into the woman who knew exactly how to track medication schedules, who could list every side effect of his treatment in order of severity, who spoke with doctors as if reciting a memorized script. You learned how to bite back the frustration when he snapped at you because he was in pain, and how to smile when all you wanted was to scream at the unfairness of it all.

You started to measure time not in days or months but in cycles of chemotherapy, in percentages of remission and relapse. Life was divided into hours spent in sterile hospital rooms, waiting for results that were never as hopeful as you needed them to be, and hours spent at home trying to pretend those results didn’t exist.

You had stopped dreaming. And minho had stopped painting.

Grief doesn’t wait for death— or so you've realized as you often found yourself grieving the life you had built together, the one you knew would never be the same. You grieved the sound of his laugh, which became quieter as the months passed. You grieved the way he used to tease you about your love for terrible reality shows, You grieved the mornings spent tangled together, talking about everything and nothing.

By the time the end came, you had already lost so much of him that you thought you might be prepared.

You weren’t.

And then he was gone.

With an, "I'm sorry. I love you." He was gone.

The house was too quiet without him, the days too long. You withdrew, not just from the world but from yourself, letting grief shape the edges of your existence.

The world moved on, even if you didn’t. They tell you how long it takes to fall in love but not how long it takes to get over it.

2 years, 240 days. And you're still counting.

Time passed in pieces—fractured and unrelenting.

Your family, Minho’s family, even well-meaning friends—none of them knew what to do with the mess you’d become, so they did what people often did. They tried to fix it. To fix you.

Blind dates were their answer, little nudges toward what they called healing. The word had been said so many times it began to lose its meaning. Healing. As if it were something—a destination you could stumble upon.

You didn’t have the energy to argue anymore, so you let them dress you up, hand you phone numbers, and convince you that this—whatever this was—was what you needed.

But your heart wasn’t in it.

Because as the man sat in front of you in the dimly lit bar continued to talk about how his ex couldn't handle his success, the trials of being a man with ambition, you really couldn't even bother to pretend you were interested. He was nice enough—tall, well dressed (consdering the dingy bar) with a confident smile but your thoughts kept drifting, as they often did.

2 years, 240 days since Minho had died.

2 years, 240 days of waking up alone in your bed, his side untouched.

2 years, 240 days of trying to find your way back to the woman you used to be.

“Hey,” the man interrupted your thoughts, leaning forward with an eager grin. “I feel like I’m talking too much. Tell me about yourself. What do you do for fun?”

You forced a smile, your stomach twisting. “I paint. It’s... therapeutic.”

“That’s nice,” he said, reaching across the table to touch your hand. You pulled back instinctively, your stool scraping against the floor. His brows furrowed.

“Sorry,” you muttered. “I just—”

“You don’t need to apologize,” he said, but his tone was tighter now. He leaned back, shrugging as if trying to dismiss the moment. “You know, you should loosen up a little. You’ll never find anyone if you keep acting like you’re still married.”

The words hit you like a slap, your chest tightening as you struggled to process the audacity of his statement. “Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying,” he continued, ignoring the warning in your tone, “you should give people a chance. I mean, you’re here, right?” He smirked and stood, coming around the table. “Let me take you home. We can—”

“Stop,” you said sharply, rising to your feet.

But he didn’t listen. His hand reached for your arm, his grip firm.

Then, just as suddenly as he’d grabbed you, he was gone.

The man stumbled backward, a hand jerking him by the collar. The force was so swift, so unexpected, that it took you a moment to register what had happened.

And then you saw him.

“..Jungkook?” The name caught in your throat as you turned.

You took in the man standing before you, taller and broader than you remembered, the years etched into the sharp lines of his jaw and the set of his shoulders. His dark eyes were fixed on the man who had dared to touch you, glinting coldly.

His voice was low, dangerous. “She said stop. I suggest you listen.”

For a moment, the world tilted.

You weren’t in a dingy bar anymore.

You were standing at the edge of a memory—the first time you’d ever seen Jungkook, the quiet boy who clung to Minho’s shadow.

And the last.

The last time you’d seen him, a looming figure in an ocean of black suits. A barely recognizable shadow among the mourners at your husband's funeral.

Now, standing before you, he was real, tangible—and so was the flood of emotions crashing over you.

It was so loud, you could barely hear as the the man stammered out an excuse, something about a misunderstanding.

“Leave.” Jungkook snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut and bring you back to the moment.

The man hesitated, his mouth opening as though he wanted to argue, but one glance at Jungkook’s expression and he decided against it. Without another word, he turned and stalked out, muttering something under his breath that neither of you caught.

Silence followed.

Only then did you felt his gaze on you. His presence was larger than life, and you were suddenly hyper-aware of how much had changed. How much he had changed. You hadn’t registered that at the funeral. Now, you didn't know what to say, you could hardly manage to look at him. While he wasn't Minho's real brother, didn't share any resemblance with him, it still hurt you, sucked you back into those times when it was the three of you, when it wasn't.

He too didn't reply right away, his gaze searching your face, as though he was also trying to piece together the version of you he remembered with the one standing before him now. When it landed on the arm you were clutching, the arm that dipshit had grabbed, you saw his eyes glint again.

"Did he hurt you?" It sounded more like a demand rather than a question but you couldn't even deciper the words, too focused on how his boyish tone had turned sharper, harder.

"W-What?" You fumble out like a fool.

"Did he hurt you, y/n?" This time, you heard him.

Letting your hand fall, embarrassed, you shook your head, finally managing to utter something sensible out. “No—yeah. I’m fine.”

He glanced back at the door that man had fled from before looking back at you. Finally, he exhaled, his voice low and quiet.

“You weren’t answering your phone.”

You blinked. “My phone?” You don't remember getting a call from anyone but then you realize your battery had died down as you looked down to see your dead device laying flat. "Oh. I didn't realis—"

“Mom said you’d been gone a while. Told me where you were.” He interrupted. There was an edge to his voice now, faint but undeniable.

You feel more embarrassed now that you know it's because of your mother in law's anxious nature that he is here. Your fingers brushed against the strap of your purse, desperate for something to do, something to hold onto as he speaks again. "Are you ready to leave?"

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, the words tumbling out before you could think them through. “I can get a cab.”

His brows furrowed, just slightly, and you noticed for the first time the faint shadows beneath his eyes, the hint of weariness in his expression. “It’s late,” he said simply.

"So?”

“So,” he echoed, his tone calm but unyielding, “I’ll take you.”

You hesitated, your pride and your exhaustion warring within you. Finally, you exhaled out in defeat, reaching for your coat. It's just a thirty minute ride. You reassured yourself. It'll be fine.

The cool night air wrapped around you and so did your coat as you stepped outside, and the streetlights cast long shadows that flickered as you walked toward his car. He opened the passenger door for you, his movements deliberate, and waited for you to slide in before closing it softly behind you.

The drive started in silence.

It wasn’t the silence of old friends, the kind that felt easy and safe. This was different—fraught, taut, like a thread stretched too tight.

You stole a glance at him as he started the engine, too aware of the small space you were packed in with him.

“I didn’t know you were back,” you said finally, your statement sounding more accusatory that you or he would have liked.

“Just for a little while,” he replied, his tone ofcourse, unfazed. “Business.”

Buisness. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at the word. If someone could look like that word, you thought, it'd be the man in the fine tailored suit with eyes fixed on the road ahead and a rolex that didn't look any more cheaper than the car he was driving and you wondered.

Wondered if the lines of his palms—the callouses from late-night basketball games, the way they had felt solid and familiar when he held yours to steady you on the wobbly bike Minho had convinced you to ride—had changed too.

Had they turned forigen, unyielding? Had time eroded their familiarity?

When the car slowed, you glanced out the window, expecting to see the acquinated sight of your apartment building. But instead, the streetlights gave way to a quieter, darker road. You frowned, turning to him.

“This isn’t the way to my place.”

“I know,” he said simply, not bothering to elaborate. "You're coming with me."

You felt your chest tighten, your pulse quickening as unease prickled at the back of your neck. “Jungkook,” you started, the word heavy with protest.

"Y/N." He ends, sparing you a glance that has you sinking back into your seat, arms folded across your chest like a petulant child that you could swear made his lips twitch at the corner, you could swear you saw your old friend who had grown a sassy tounge at the age of fourteen that'd earn smacks at the head from his older brother for a fleeting cruel second there. But that was it. It was gone as fast as it had appeared, summoning the return of the silence that felt like its own living thing.

The house was still the same.

That was the first thing you noticed as the car slowed down in front of the building that loomed at the end of the road like a memory waiting to consume you.

The overhead lights still flickered faintly, casting shadows across the steps where you and Minho had once sat, daring each other to stay outside until the stars disappeared. Even the smell was the same—faintly woody, with the comforting hint of whatever candle Jungkook’s mom always lit in the hallway.

You hesitated in the doorway, the memories rushing in too fast, too loud. It's not like you haven't been here in ages but since the year you celebrated your first marriage anniversary with Minho here, it felt like you have lived a thousand lives.

Lives that haunted you still, made you randomly pause in the grocery aisle and now before this house until you felt Jungkook’s presence press behind you as if silently urging you on.

Clearing your throat, you slipped out of your heels that have been as much as pain as the man you had been on a date with. The floor creaked softly beneath your feet as you stepped inside, the sound jarring. The same hardwood floors, polished to a faint sheen. The same floral wallpaper lining the hallway. The same photo frames arranged along the wall—a collection of childhoods captured and frozen in time.

But as you glanced toward the corner of the living room where the three of you used to pile up pillows and blankets for makeshift forts. The corner was bare now, save for an old armchair, but in your mind, you saw it vividly: Minho’s determined grin as he shuffled the pillows, Jungkook, always following the lead but never quite competing for it. You would snuggle a pillow to your lap, nestled between the two brothers, peeking from behind your fingers and giggling at the the way Minho’s face would light up in triumph when he won another round of rock-paper-scissors.

A type of smugness that came from knowing he’d get to flick Jungkook’s forehead next. But your smile would fade as soon as you would realize that it's your turn next. “Wait, wait!” you’d plead, wide-eyed, deploying the best puppy-dog look you could muster. It was the same look that had, on occasion, earned you extra TV time with your dad. Jungkook would glance at you and chuckle. Relent like your father would and sheild your forehead with his palm that'd have Minho pouting. "Hey! That's not how you do it!"

"Y/N?" A well recognized voice pulled you back to the where you were supposed to be, back from the fort of pillows and blankets.

You turned around and instantly found yourself wrapped up in a tight hug. You managed a small smile, letting your arms wrap around the warm frame of your mother in law, the scent of her jasmine oil and apprehensive energy pulling you in. "Mom." You greeted back.

Mrs Jeon hadn't always been this.. overbearing. Though after the passing of your husband, she had teamed up with your mother and been on a determined mission to make sure you are well and on a road to healing.

The next few minutes, she did what she had been doing best—fussed over you, asking how you’d been, if you’d eaten, if you were warm enough. In that time being, Jungkook had resigned to wherever his room was.

You planned to do the same, especially now that you could see on her face how she is on the brink of asking about the disaster tonight. You showed some obvious sign of weariness, in hopes she'd let it go for the night and tell you where you're supposed to go to bed for.

"Third on the left, my dear. And I'm gonna need you to stay for breakfast, okay?" You wondered if stubbornness was a running streak in this family.

Hours later, sleep had yet to come.

You lay awake, staring at the ceiling, counting the faint grooves in the plaster as if they could somehow lull you into rest. The trick didn't work. It hadn’t worked in your own apartment either—the one you and Minho had picked out together, picked the colors of the walls together, and argued over where the bookshelf should be. Yet, it was still your space. You could control how you faced the memories there, pacing them, deciding when and how to confront them.

There, at least, you’d managed four or five hours of sleep on a good night. Here? In this house that held so much of him, so much of them, you weren’t sure you’d manage even one.

The room you were led to was neat and welcoming, the kind of space that had been carefully prepared for guests. But there was no comfort to be found in the knowledge that two doors down lay Minho’s childhood room, untouched, a shrine to a boy who grew up into the man you loved and lost.

At some point, you gave up.

Sliding out of bed, you wrapped your arms around yourself as you padded quietly downstairs. The house was silent as you made your way downstairs, the faint hum of the refrigerator the only sound, the indistinct glow from the kitchen spilling into the dimness. You didn’t expect to find anyone there, but as you rounded the corner, your steps faltered.

Jungkook stood by the counter, a glass of amber liquid in his hand, his other resting on the marble surface. His jacket was gone, abandoned somewhere, leaving him in his dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Tattoos.

They sprawled across his skin, intricate designs etched into muscle and sinew, that you didn't think you'd ever see on him.

Perhaps you thought wrong. Perhaps you never knew. Never knew him.

He glanced up, his dark eyes meeting yours that looked just as caught off guard as yours did. For a moment, you didn't feel comfortable moving from your spot until he eventually spoke.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice quiet.

You shook your head, stepping into the kitchen. “Needed some water.” You said and opened a cabinet, finding the glasses exactly where you remembered, and filled one with water.

Behind you, Jungkook leaned against the counter, his presence impossible to ignore. Funny, how he always preferred to blend in the background as a child, now his mere cologne—earthy and warm—demanded attention, filled the room before he had even entered.

“Do you… do you drink often now?” you asked hesitantly, glancing over your shoulder, at the way his fingers curled around the glass, the tattoos on his hand shifting as he tilted it.

“Sometimes.” he said, his tone vague.

If things were anything like before between you two or anything like before at all, maybe you'd have pushed further, asked him if this was growing to be a unhealthy habit.

Now, it didn’t seem right when there was an ocean between you—a chasm of time. Felt intrusive. And you know it would only sound hypocritical from your mouth—talking about unhealthy mechanisms. Hah.

You ended up only nodding and put the washed glass back so you could go back to counting the grooves in the plaster. Resume your restless attempt at sleep.

But Jungkook spoke again.

"How long have you been going on.." He started suddenly, setting his glass down with a quiet clink. His voice was calm, but the muscle in his jaw twitched as he spoke. "These dates?"

You blinked at him, taken aback by the question. "Uh—for a while now, I guess?"

“Are you willing, or are they forcing you?”

The question, the way he asked it—sharp, direct—left you off balance. So did the way he was looking at you now, his eyes no longer holding the casualty as they once did when he had the glass of alcohol in his hand.

“I—” You faltered. “They just want to help. They think it’s time.”

“And what do you want?”

To go back to your room. To ask him what did it even matter to him, after all this time.

But what came out was forthright honesty. “I don’t know,” you admitted, “I don’t know what I want anymore.”

He stepped closer, his feet padding softly against the kitchen floor—a contrast to his rigid frame that now towered just close enough. Close enough to see how his chest rose and fell with every breath. Close enough to see how his eyes lingered on you, like he was trying to unravel something he didn’t understand.

“You don’t have to do anything for them or anyone,” he said, his voice soft but no less rough. “Not if you’re not ready.”

You opened your mouth to respond, to deflect, to do something, but his gaze held you in place, tracing down from the dark circles that weighted your eyes to your parted lips. All you could feel was his gaze burning on you and hear your own pulse in your ears.

“Jungkook…” His name escaped your lips in a whisper, barely audible.

He lingered for a beat longer, his eyes searching yours, then he stepped back, his jaw just as tight. “Get some rest.” He clipped out before he turned and walked away, leaving you alone again.

You didn't got any sleep that night.

8:00'o clock. The time's a etched number in your brain ever since you started your job at the university.

It's a routine that needs no alarm clock. It's a number you keep waiting for as you blink at the time passing. And you're more than eager when the morning comes softly along with smaller needle stopping at 8, sunlight slipping through the curtains in streaks too gentle to match the weight in your chest.

With Minho, you were the one to wake up first but here you find that the house was awake before you.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee drifted through the air, mingling with the faint sound of voices coming from the dining room. Breakfast was warm and lively, much like your mother in law. She greeted you with a brightness that almost made you feel guilty for your somber disposition.

“Good morning!” she said with a smile that could have been plucked from a painting. Reaching for a plate of toast, setting it down in front of the empty seat beside her.

“Good morning.” you murmured, sliding into a chair.

Across the table, your father in law sat at his usual spot, his attention fixed on his phone, only looking up to give you a nod of acknowledgment. You had never fully understood him, not as Minho’s father, not as a man.

Perhaps, It had always been because of the sore spot between him and your husband, the way his father disapproved of his wishes—choosing art over business, passion over practicality. You remembered the arguments you thought would never hear after the age of sixteen, the way Minho would come home, his face tight with frustration. “He doesn’t get it,” he’d say. “He never will.” You saw the way it wore on him, the way he carried the weight of his father’s disapproval like it was stitched into his very skin.

Even now, as you sat across from him, you wondered if he ever regretted it—if he ever wished he had spoken softer, loved louder. But his face was as impassive as ever, his thoughts a mystery.

“Jungkook left early this morning,” his mother said, breaking the silence. “Something about a meeting downtown.”

You nodded, relief washing over you in a way that felt almost shameful. You hadn’t realized how much you were dreading seeing him until you knew you wouldn’t have to.

“Busy as always,” you said lightly, reaching for your coffee.

The conversation drifted into familiar topics—neighbors, extended family, stories you half-listened to with polite nods. The table felt both too full and too empty, the gazes of all the people that sat there never straying to the right one in the left corner, just right beside yours.

The older woman turned to you, her tone bright with enthusiasm.

“There’s a party this weekend,” she said, her smile widening. “Just a small gathering with some friends and business partners. It would be lovely if you came with us.”

The suggestion made you squirm uncomfortably in your chair. “Oh, I don’t think—”

“It’ll be good for you,” she interrupted gently, her gaze soft but insistent. “Everyone would love to see you.”

You hesitated, the thought of mingling with people, of putting on a brave face for strangers already making you want to go back to bed. “I’m not sure I’d be good company,” You glanced towards your father in law, half-hoping he might say something to discourage the idea, but he couldn't be any less bothered.

“Nonsense!” she pressed. “You don’t even have to stay long. But it would mean so much to us.”

There was no malice in her persistence, no attempt to guilt you, just a genuine desire to include you in their lives. You couldn’t bear to disappoint her.

“Okay,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll come.”

Her face lit up with a smile. “Wonderful. Jungkook will pick you up and bring you there. That way, you don’t have to worry about driving.”

You froze, cup midway to your mouth. "There's no need for that, mom."

"Oh hush." she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “He’ll be coming from the office, so it’s no trouble.”

You nodded slowly, your appetite not too great or you just wanted to get out of here.

8'30. You glanced at the rose gold wrist watch, your first anniversary gift. Your first class is due in an hour, the perfect excuse wrapped around your wrist which you use to excuse yourself from the suffocating walls that always feel like they are closing in on you.

You have come to prefer the morning buzz of the university more—the hum of young adults chatting in the hallways, the scrape of chairs against tiled floors.It was a rhythm you found comforting, predictable in its own way. Here, you were just a professor, the one who explained history and philosophy with hands that only shook sometimes.

The teenage year you would have thought predictable as boring but you— a woman gone through a dubious sets of events found a fellow feeling in it.

Found the task of grading thesis, making power point presentation better than you would have ever imagined.

But Gods, your students need to realize that they can't dump about their toxic ex in every essay. A woman can only take so much.

You were sorting through the said papers in your office when the door creaked open, and a woman peeked her head in, the light from the outside catching in her curly locks.

“You busy?” she asked, her voice light and familiar.

You looked up to see Mira, the economics professor and one of your closest colleagues, walking toward you with her usual warm smile. Mira was more than just a coworker though—being practically family, the wife of Minho’s dark haired cousin who didn’t talk much in family gatherings, and over the years, she had become a friend you could rely on and share lunch with.

“Not for you,” you said, smiling as you waved her in.

She dropped into the chair across from you, setting her bag on the floor. “You look like you didn’t sleep a wink.”

Was it that obvious?

“I didn’t,” you admitted, sighing softly. “I stayed at the Jeons’ last night.”

Her eyebrows rose, but there was something in her eyes—a softness, an understanding—that made you look away for a second. “How’d that go?”

You hesitated, picking at the edge of a notebook on your desk. “It was… fine.”

“Just fine?”

“Jungkook’s back,” you said, and her eyes widened slightly, the topic seeming to catch her attention.

“Really? I didn’t know he was in town.”

“Neither did I, until yesterday.” You shrugged, leaning back in your chair. “Just for a while, though. Business stuff, y'know?”

Mira tilted her head, a small, knowing smile tugging at her lips. “And how’s that going?”

You frowned, caught off guard by the question. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged, but her eyes stayed on you, curious. “I mean, it’s been years, hasn’t it?"

“Yeah,” you said slowly. "It's fine, I suppose. We didn't talk much."

“Hmm.” Mira hummed thoughtfully as if tasting the question she was gonna ask on her tounge. “Are you okay with him being back?”

Were you okay with him behind back? Okay with him stepping in your vicinity after years of acting like you were not even family, let alone a friend?

“I don’t know,” you admitted finally. “It’s strange seeing him again after all this time. But he’s been… kind. Quiet, mostly.”

Mira didn’t press further, but there was something in her expression that made you uneasy, as if she knew something you didn’t.

You cleared your throat, desperate to change the subject. “There’s a party this weekend. His mom invited me. Please tell me you’re going.”

Mira winced, her smile apologetic. “Date night with the husband. Non-negotiable.”

"Oh." You tried not to show the dejection on your face but it was there. "Lucky you."

She studied you for a moment, her expression gentle. “Are you okay with going?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I feel like I have to.”

“You don’t have to do anything for them. Not if you’re not ready.”

If only he understood how much easier it was to do things for others than to face yourself.

“Y/N…” Her voice softened, and for a moment, she looked like she wanted to say more. Instead, she reached out and squeezed your hand. “You’ll be fine. And if you’re not, you can text me. I’ll make up some excuse to get you out of there.”

You smiled, grateful for her before bidding bye to her for her next class and focusing back on the pending work spread across your desk while simultaneously going through your closet in your mind.

Minho had always said red made the brown of your eyes excel more.

And you have really tried to believe it, looking at yourself from above your shoulder, from the side of your arm in the mirror but perhaps it's not only this red, off shoulder dress that's not doing your eyes justice. It's every color you have once known, once loved.

It's like, it's you that's not doing them justice.

As you stared into the mirror, your eyes flitting from one detail to the next—the slightly uneven tuck of fabric, the exposed skin of your collarbone—it felt wrong.

The little things were missing—his hands fixing the clasp of your necklace, his voice telling you not to overthink it, that you looked beautiful. That it didn’t matter what you wore, because it was you who wore it.

But he wasn’t here.

With a sigh, you adjusted the necklace you had chosen yourself, a simple silver chain that rested delicately against your collarbone. The mirror wasn’t forgiving, but you looked anyway, searching for something familiar in your own reflection. You smoothed your hands over the fabric, told yourself this was just another party, and dodged the doubts of this being a mistake.

The knock at your door came too soon, sharp and punctual, like everything Jungkook had become.

You felt your stomach clench, nerves twisting with something else you couldn’t name. Smoothing your dress one last time, you crossed the small space of your apartment, pausing just before the door.

When you opened it, Jungkook was standing right before you.

He had stood on the edge of cliffs where oceans met skies too, in countless countries at that, walked through streets that droned with history. Scrawled through the wonders of the world—the kind that made poets immortalize them in verse—but nothing—nothing—would ever measure up to this.

To you.

You, standing in the doorway, framed by the soft glow of the hall light, your hair falling in waves that he had memorized long ago.

His chest tightened, the memory of another doorway bleeding into the moment as gaily as if it had just happened. He had been in the room meant for waiting, where your parents had sat moments before, your mother sniffling into a tissue, your father pacing in his polished shoes. Now it had been his turn.

The thought alone of being the second person to see you before you walked away from him for good had made his tie that he had been trying to get the hang off felt too stressed around his neck, his palms clammy despite the air conditioning. He rubbed them on his pants, glancing at the small clock on the mantle every few seconds. The minutes dragged, each one seemed longer than the other.

What would you look like?

The thought ran circles in his mind, only for a creak of the door to startle him back.

Footsteps had echoed in the quiet, minimizing the distance until he could practically feel the nervous energy of a bride bounce against his. "Okay. You can turn around now." He had heard you speak, had seen the skittish smile on your face before he even turned around.

And when he did, he felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room.

The dress hugged you like it had been designed with only you in mind, its soft fabric flowing as if in defiance of gravity. Your veil cascaded behind you, catching the light, and your smile was small, almost shy, as you looked up at him, waiting for his reaction.

“Well?” you prompted, turning slightly, your hands brushing the fabric at your sides. “What do you think?”

What did he think? He thought the universe was wicked for allowing him to witness this and still expect him to let you go.

He had swallowed hard, forcing his voice to steady when he finally said, “You look—” His tongue had faltered over every adjective that came to mind. Beautiful wasn’t enough. Breathtaking felt like a cliché. “Perfect.”

You—Beautiful, Devastatingly, so.

You—who weren’t his to look at this way.

He feels his breath catch, his hands clenching at his sides to keep himself from reaching for you.

Because while that version of you had been a dream, this version—worn, weathered, but still so unmistakably you—was real. And the reality of you had always been what he wanted most.

Fuck. He shouldn’t be here.

He shouldn’t have agreed to pick you up, shouldn’t have stepped into this space, should have kept the distance he had spent years bridging.

But he has always found himself hopeless and running back to wherever you were concerned, hopeless in a way that had him studying for a test he didn’t even have to keep you company or show up.. here. Content to be near you in whatever capacity he could. He told himself it was enough. That it would be enough to watch you from the sidelines, to sit across from you at family dinners.

It wasn’t.

Because Jungkook wasn't a virtuous man. He never had been.

Virtue belonged to his brother—the one who could weave dreams out of thin air, who saw the world in colors Jungkook had never learned to name. His brother—Minho—who had been the light, the warmth that people, he gravitated toward. He had admired Minho, even envied him, resented him in ways he never admitted aloud and kept it in shadows.

When Minho died, the shadow became a man. And that man had spent years running.

Running into work, into unfamiliar cities, into the kind of purpose that left no room for thought. No room for the times when everything was right, when he tasted family and friendship for the first time ever, no room for the last time he tasted it when you walked down the aisle to his brother looking at him like he was the sun and how it burned, how he had burned with nails biting into his palms.

And only men with no integrity burn. Men who are cowards, restless, afraid of thier own greed try to run, in hopes that the distance would save them.

But distance didn’t save men like Jungkook.

Because here he was again, standing before you, the fire still smoldering.

“Hi,” you said softly, your voice pulling him back, creating a doubt in his belief.

“Hi,” he replied, his own tounge feeling heavy in his mouth.

“You’re early,” you said, your tone carefully light.

He cleared his throat, his hands slipping into the pockets of his slacks in an attempt to keep them to themselves. “Traffic was lighter than I expected. Are you ready to leave?"

You nodded and he stepped back, revealing his sleek Mercedes benz parked just right in front. He let you walk before him, watching how your movements were hesitant, as if the ground beneath your feet wasn’t entirely steady. He wanted to ask you if you were okay. He wanted to tell you it was okay if you weren't.

He settled for opening the car door for you.

“Thanks for this,” you said, your gaze fixed on the passing streetlights. “I know it’s probably the last thing you want to do.”

His grip tightened against the leather of the steering wheel with a force that made his knuckles ache. There was a rancorous way that you spoke to him, carefully restrained, that he couldn't even blame you for.

"It's not." He gritted out. "It's not a problem."

He had earned every inch of this gap between you, had spent years building it brick by brick, mile by mile. He's all to blame for. For carving the space between you with every ignored call, every excuse he made to avoid family dinners where you’d inevitably be.

For the leaving the wreckage in his wake—yours, his, theirs.

It wasn’t fair to hate the consequences of his own choices.

But hell, if he didn't outright loathed feeling like he was staring at a wall of frosted glass when he looked at you—where he could see the outline of you, but the details were blurred, distant. Like he had lost the privilge of knowing you from one glance, lost the privilge of having you speak up to him whenever you wanted, call him out, intoxicate him with your laughter that lightened up a room he wasn't even aware was dark. Found it fucking unbearable.

So much that he felt relief washing over him when the venue of the gathering came in view. A grand mansion, framed by manicured gardens and sprawling oaks that seemed to whisper old secrets to one another. It had a timeless elegance that made you wonder how many lives it had seen pass through its doors.

Small gathering, she said. You scoffed internally at rich people and their definition of small.

“Nice place,” you murmured as you walked beside him, your steps careful on the stone path after the car was eased into a parking spot.

“It’s the Kim's family home,” Jungkook said. You nodded, though the name didn’t spark much recognition. The Kims had been mentioned here and there at family dinners—names dropped in passing between sips of wine and shared laughter. You had barely paid attention then, too busy suppressing laughs at the jokes that Minho whispered near.

The front doors were open, the faint scent of fresh flowers and expensive cologne wafting out to greet you. Inside, the space was as opulent as expected—high ceilings adorned with crystal chandeliers, polished floors that gleamed under the soft light, and clusters of well-dressed guests milling about with drinks in hand.

A tall man stood near the entrance, his broad shoulders and sharp jawline making him impossible to miss. Beside him, another man stood with a softer air, his eyes crinkling with warmth as he leaned into the first man’s side.

The taller of the two men turned, his expression lighting up as he spotted Jungkook. “There he is,” He said, his deep voice carrying effortlessly.

"Hyung." Jungkook softened, clasping hands in a firm shake before pulling each other into a brief hug, the kind that spoke of collaboration and respect.

You shifted awkwardly on your feet, your fingers curling around the strap of your purse as you wondered whether to step back and leave him to his conversation or stay and risk being out of place.Would it be rude if you chose the former?

You were saved from your uncertainty when the two of them pulled away from Jungkook and took you in, a gleam of recognition passing through their face. Recognition, shock, then pity. You know how it went.

“You must be Y/N,” the taller one said, his gaze shifting to you with a warm smile.

You blinked, clearly caught off guard by the direct attention. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Kim Namjoon ” he said, offering his hand. “And this is Seokjin, my partner.” You smiled, nodding in acknowledgment before taking the hand of the charming one in the beige suit. “It’s nice to meet you, both. This is a beautiful venue.” You assume that they're the hosts of the party. The Kims that this house belonged to.

“Thank my father for that,” Namjoon said with a chuckle. “Sixty years old and still insists on hosting the most extravagant parties. He’d never let me live it down if I didn’t pull out all the stops.”

“Extravagant is an understatement,” Seokjin chimed in, his tone playful as he glanced at Namjoon. “I’m pretty sure half the flowers in the city ended up here.”

You smiled again, but it faltered when Seokjin's expression changed in a beat.

“We’ve heard a lot about you too,” he said gently, his gaze dipping briefly to Jungkook before meeting yours again.

You tilted your head, curiosity flashing across your face. “All good things, I hope.”

“Of course,” Namjoon assured you. “Your family is well-regarded, and we-we're sorry about Minho. He was brilliant in every sense of the world. We can't even imagin—"

“Thank you,” you said softly, trying really hard to not let the tightening of your throat strain your voice. “He was.”

Jungkook watched as your smile faltered, just slightly, at the mention of Minho. He decided to steer the conversation away but you recovered quickly, offering a polite nod and beat him to it.

There was a brief, loaded pause before you glanced at Jungkook. “I should find mom. She asked me to join her earlier.”

"Yeah, right.” Jungkook said, his voice steady despite the way his chest tightened again when he looked at you.

You walked by Jungkook, brushing close enough that your shoulder brushed against his chest, the faintest hint of your vanilla perfume that was so maddeningly you lingered in the air. He tensed, his breath catching before he could stop it. His fingers twitched at his sides, an almost imperceptible motion, but it was enough.

Subtle as he tried to be, he caught himself leaning slightly, his chest rising with a quiet inhale as though he could take the ghost of your scent and keep it for himself.

"Not as subtle as you think." Seokjin snickered by his boyfriend's side who also raised an eyebrow, his expression knowing and somewhat giving away his discomfort. “Is there something you’d like to share with the class?”

Shit.

Jungkook straightened, his jaw clenching as he avoided their eyes, fixing the collar of his shirt hoping they won't catch on the heat creeping up on his neck too. “Don’t.” he said quietly, his tone low and edged with warning.

"Maybe you don't sniff her like a dog in public? Maybe you have some decorum?" Seokjin judged, proud and loud.

"I have plenty, hyung." The younger male side eyed the older one, his eyes narrowed and the tips of his ears already crimson red like he was a boy caught watching porn for the very first time.

Namjoon sighed, though there was a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Let him be, honey.”

But the look he gave Jungkook was far from dismissive. It was the kind of look that saw too much, that peeled back layers Jungkook wasn’t ready to confront. Gods, he needed new friends.

He turned his attention back to the crowd where you disappeared.

The soft hum of conversations and the faint clinking of glasses followed you as you weaved through the grand hall, your eyes scanning for your mother-in-law’s familiar figure. The air in the mansion was heavier than it had been when you arrived, the brush of silk against silk, the way every movement seemed calculated, observed, and weighed.

You navigated through the crowd like a ghost in a gallery, your steps measured and slow, eyes flicking to the floor more than once to avoid the speculative stares. With rich circles came dirty gossip—whispered words disguised as laughter, false smiles that hid daggers. You’d learned to let them roll off your back, like rain on stone.

The Jeon matriarch had mentioned being near the back, closer to where the banquet tables were set. You followed the direction she’d gestured toward earlier, passing servers who moved seamlessly with trays of sparkling champagne.

Halfway through the journey, your steps faltered as your gaze landed on the centerpiece of one table—a chocolate fountain. Warm, rich, and cascading like liquid satin, it stood surrounded by an array of treats. Strawberries gleamed like rubies in the low light, their surfaces polished and inviting.

You hesitated, glanced around as if expecting someone to berate you for indulging in something so ordinary, but eventually, you plucked a strawberry and dipped it into the cascading chocolate.

You let the sweetness settle on your tongue, closing your eyes for a brief moment. For the first time all evening, you found this place somewhat tolerable.

Free food always making things better.

“Excuse me, miss.” a small voice piped up beside you, tugging on the flowy end of your dress.

A boy, no older than six or seven, stood by your side, his wide eyes flicking between you and the fountain. He looked as if he had stepped out of a luxury children’s catalog, his little suit tailored perfectly, his bow tie slightly askew. “Can you grab one for me? I’m not allowed to reach it by myself.” he asked, pointing at the fountain. His voice was polite, but there was a hopeful edge to it, as if he wasn’t used to asking for things twice.

“Of course, love.” you said, your lips curving into a small smile. You picked another strawberry, dipping it with care before crouching slightly to hand it to him. "There you go."

“Thank you!” he chirped, grinning immediate and radiant, the kind that softened the edges of a hard day.

"What's your name?" You asked him, crouching down to his level.

“Do-yun!” came a sharp voice, the kind that turned your stomach before your brain even processed it.

Who you assumed was the boy's mother stepped forward, her elegance severe, her lips painted in a red that matched the strawberries. She took her son’s hand but not before her eyes raked over you, head to toe, with an expression that left no room for interpretation.

"What did I tell you about bothering strangers?” she scolded do-yun who stared at the skewer in his hand apologetically.

“He wasn’t bothering me,” you said gently, straightening up and having the woman’s eyes flicker to you again, assessing.

“He just wanted a treat.”

Her eyes flicked to the chocolate fountain, then back to you, her lips pressing into a tight smile. “how kind of you.”

There was no warmth in her tone, no hint of gratitude. Just a faintly dismissive air. And with that, she turned, her child in tow, leaving you with the faint scent of something floral and the taste of bitterness on your tongue.

You'd learned better than to expect warmth from people bound by history.

You'd learned not to mind it. To overlook it. To not pay attention to them at all.

"That's her, isn't she?"

“Such a shame, losing her husband so young.”

“Yes, but you know, they weren’t exactly power players, were they? He was an artist, wasn’t he?”

The words hung in the air like cigarette smoke, acrid and inescapable.

A laugh, soft and cruel. “I suppose she’s lucky the Jeons still keep her close. Poor thing, all alone now. Must be awful.”

You stopped in your tracks. The sharp sting of their voices cut through the party’s hum, louder than the music, louder than your own heartbeat.

You could feel your palms start to get sweaty, eyes suddenly unable to meet anyone's.

Breathe. You reminded yourself.

One: Find your breath.

Two: Focus on something neutral—the fountain, the floor, the chandelier above.

Three: Remind yourself: They don’t know you. Their words are weightless.

But weightless wasn’t the right word.

“Though, you’d think she’d be a bit more modest. That dress isn’t exactly… widow-appropriate, is it?”

You tried to focus on your numbers but you lost it.

You turned, your fists clenched, your lips thinned, the polite demeanor cracking away from your face under the weight of your frustration.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice sharper than you intended. “Was there something you wanted to say to my face?”

The women froze, their eyes widening in surprise. One of them, a younger woman with a nervous smile, tried to backpedal. “Oh, no, we didn’t mean—”

“Because if you have an issue with me or my dress, feel free to say it outright,” you continued, your voice clear despite the way your heart hammered in your chest. “I’d hate for you to waste any more time whispering behind my back.”

The group exchanged glances, communicating in a language of their own, you couldn’t care less about. Atleast not in this moment.

“We didn’t mean to offend,” one of them muttered, her tone brittle.

“Of course you didn’t,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “How could I possibly take offense to strangers dissecting my life as if it’s some dinner party entertainment?”

Stupid old hags with no life of their own!

You kept that to yourself.

Then, without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and stormed away.

The chandeliers above blurred as tears pricked the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not here. Not now.

You weren’t looking for anything specific—just distance, just air that wasn’t thick with judgment and whispers. A bathroom, maybe, though you weren’t going to ask for directions not when your voice felt like it would crack the moment you opened your mouth.

People brushed past you, their scents of expensive perfumes swirling in the air, their muted voices blending into a hum you couldn’t quite focus on. One or two bumped into your shoulder, but you didn’t apologize, didn’t bother looking back.

You just needed to get away—you just needed out of here.

And then, as if the universe wasn’t finished testing you, a firm hand of another one of a frame you jerked into, closed around your wrist, halting your momentum.

You looked up, brows scrunched, eyes glossy and mouth parting, ready to snap but then you were met with a amicable pair of dark eyes.

A crease of his own wrinkling his forehead as he looked down at you. "Is something wrong?" He asked and you almost wanted to laugh mockingly.

Instead, you did what you initially wanted to do. Your eyes flicked to his hand, then back to his face. “Let me go.”

He hesitated for a moment, tounge poking his cheek, grip on your hand loosening but not releasing entirely. "What's wrong, y/n?"

“I said, let me go,” you repeated, your voice firm, frangible at the edges before you pulled your hand away from him and pushed past to walk away without another word.

The next random hallway you stumbled into was quieter, emptier, and for that, you were grateful, stretched ahead like an endless corridor of polished wood and muted gold accents. The noise of the party faded into the background, muffled by the thick walls and heavy doors.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to roam around mindlessly any further. This should be good enough, you told yourself and leaned against one of the walls, your forehead pressing against the cool surface as you tried to breathe through the wave of vehemence emotions that crashed through you.

One: Inhale.

Two: Exhale.

Three: Forget the words they said. Forget them.

But they echoed, persistent and savage, circling in your mind like vultures.

Poor thing, all alone now. Must be awful.

You’d think she’d be a bit more modest. That dress isn’t exactly widow-appropriate, is it?

Your chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths, your hands clutching at your dress as if the fabric could somehow hold you together. But nothing could, nothing had. You had tried and tried and tried.. and fuck you didn't wanted to do it anymore.

Turning around, your head tipped back against the wall, the ceiling swimming in and out of focus as your vision blurred.

You shouldn’t have come here.

You should have stayed home, buried yourself in the comfort of your quiet apartment where no one whispered behind your back or looked at you with pity thinly disguised as deference.

Why did they care? Why did it matter to them how you dressed, how you existed, how you grieved?

It shouldn’t have mattered.

But it did.

You pressed the heels of your palms against your eyes, trying to will the tears away. Crying wouldn’t help. It wouldn’t change anything.

Your hands gripped your clutch tightly, the edges digging into your palms, and for a moment, you considered throwing it—hurling it across the hall just to feel something break.

But you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Because even here, in this quiet, empty hallway, you felt the silent expectation that you hold yourself together, that you keep smiling, keep nodding, keep existing in a way that made other people comfortable.

You hated this. You hated being you. You hated being the one who was left behind. And God you hated being alone. No Minho to make a quiet joke about the ridiculousness of it all and pull you toward something fun and irreverent.

Just you.

It will be always be just you. You've never admitted that to yourself but now that you did, you feel such panic rise in your chest that you don't hear him at first. Not until his voice broke through the haze.

“Y/N.”

It was soft, tentative, but it still cut through the silence like a blade.

You flinched, your head snapping toward the source of the voice. Jungkook stood a few feet away, his dark eyes searching yours, his expression shadowed with concern.

He had followed you.

“I told you to leave me alone,” you managed, your voice trembling as you turned away, willing him to disappear.

“I’m not leaving,” he said, his footsteps growing louder as he moved closer with a cautiousness that made you feel like a wounded animal. “Talk to me.” He added, the pleading in his voice almost running free.

"I mean it, Jungkook.. go away." You tried putting distance between the both of you again but far too quick for your slowed senses, he was now standing right in front of you, hands hovering in the air as if he didn't know what to do with him while also knowing.

"And I told you, I'm not leaving." His tone had coarsened and your dam had broke.

“Why now?” you cried, stepping closer to him, your fists balling at your sides. “Why do you want to stay now? You’ve spent years acting like a stranger, Jungkook. Years acting like I didn’t exist. And now—”

You shoved at his chest, your fists pounding weakly against him, but he didn’t move.

“Now you want to act like you care?” you yelled, your voice cracking as you hit him again. “Now you want to be here? Why?”

Jungkook stood still, his arms at his sides, his chest solid and unyielding beneath your fists. He didn’t flinch, didn’t step back, didn’t even try to stop you. He just let you hit him, let you pour out everything.His silence infuriated you, and yet it steadied you in a way you couldn’t explain.

"Why do you care now?" you repeated, your voice cracking, trembling like your hands as they hit his chest incessantly. Each word felt like it scraped raw against your throat. "Where were you, Jungkook? When everything fell apart, when I—when I needed someone. Where were you?"

“I don’t need you now!” you snapped, your tears falling freely now. “I don’t need you to come here and act like you care, like you’ve always cared, because we both know that’s not true."

“Because you left!" your voice cracked, the words laced with betrayal. The hurt from the breach of faith weakening you and your punches on his chest until they finally stilled, your hands trembling still as they curled into the fabric of his shirt. Jungkook caught your wrists, his hold firm but gentle, and for a moment, you fought him, your breaths coming in sharp and ragged. But when he didn’t let go, when he didn’t flinch or step back, the fight drained out of you.

Your knees buckled, and his arms came around you slowly, hesitantly, as if he were afraid you might push him away. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. You were too tired now. Empty hands that had been holding onto something for as long as you could remember were too tired, have forgotten the feeling of what it felt like to be held instead.

You allowed to let yourself feel that. You allowed yourself to feel someone else other than the woman you couldn’t even recognize in a mirror as you sagged against him, your head pressing against his shoulder as your tears soaked into his shirt, body shaking and shivering from the quiet sobs that you let out.

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, angel." You heard him say those words like a mantra against your hair, arms tightening around you, nestling you close against his chest.

For a moment, you heard pain there, raw and unfiltered, pain that felt similiar to your own in ways you hadn’t expected. You clutched his shirt tighter. You didn't wanted to be alone and Jungkook felt and smelled of times when you weren't. Earthy and Warm. Like that one time when he pulled you in to him after the death of milo- your first dog, and didn’t even mind your snort.

You had clung to those memories but it felt better clinging to him. A small, desperate part of you wanting to drag him closer, to cling to what little you had left of the past. The rest of you wanted to push him away, to keep screaming at him for daring to come back after all this time, after all this distance.

The sobs subsided slowly, leaving behind the kind of stillness that felt fragile, as if it might shatter with the wrong word or movement. Jungkook didn’t push you away, didn’t loosen his hold. If anything, he pulled you closer, as though he feared you’d slip through his fingers if he let go.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, your gaze searching his face. His eyes shadowed, a stupid perfect strand of his stupid perfect hair falling on his forehead with tension prominent in his jaw and you wondered if there was a time there wasn't.

You wondered if it would make you any more vulnerable that you are right now if you say the words that sit on the top of your tounge, sting in the tears that linger in the corner of your eyes.

“I missed you,” you said softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. They felt dangerous, like exposing a wound that had barely begun to scab over.

His eyes darkened, a low sound rumbling in his chest—something between a growl and a sigh. “Fuck,” he muttered, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as he pressed his forehead to yours. “I missed you too, angel."

The rawness in his tone made your chest clench, a part of you craving more, while another part shrieked at you to stop this before it went any further, gather whatever semblance has left of you and walk away, play his cards against him.

But you have never been too good with cards or walking away.

“Then why did you leave?” you croaked. “Why did you stay away for so long?”

His gaze dropped to the space between you before meeting your eyes again, his own breathing now getting uneven. You could feel it beneath you. Rising. And Rising. And Rising.

"I didn’t knew how to look at you and not feel like I'm.. betraying him." His voice trembles as he drews in breath and you're so close you feel the heat of it brush against your temple. "And I can not, not look at you. That became a problem."

Your body stiffened at the confession, the world around you shrinking until it was just the two of you, his voice echoing in your ears.

Your first instinct was disbelief.

This can't mean what you think it does.

This can’t mean what you think it does!

The words replayed in your mind, over and over, refusing to settle. Each repetition twisted something deeper, something buried in the hollow space that had once been you.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, needing space, needing air.

He didn’t move. His gaze followed you, his expression resolute, like he was determined to lay everything bare now that the first truth had slipped out.

But you didn’t even wanted to acknowledge it as something, let alone, a truth. “That’s not—” Your voice cracked, and you forced yourself to start again. "Are you drunk, Jungkook?" You found the thought so repulsing, you could only think of ways to brush this up, put all the blame on the champagne.

From the way his eyes narrowed and brow ridged, you could tell that it was not the champagne.

“Y/N.” he says with a warning. “I’m not fucking drunk.”

“Well, you sound like you are,” you shot back, your tone sharper than you intended. “Because that—what you just said—sounds like something someone says when they’re not thinking clearly. You're not making any sense, Jungkook!"

“It makes sense,” he was starting to get frustated now. “It’s the only thing that’s ever made sense to me.”

And you were starting to get scared. You needed him to stop talking. Anything and everything he said made you physically want to recoil. You took another step back, your arms wrapping around yourself as if you could shield yourself from the weight of unsaid words that are no longer so.

“Don’t,” you said, your voice breaking, hands tempted to cover your ears like a child. His confession felt like a pin pulled from a grenade, and now the blast was unfurling within you. “Don’t do this. It's not fair. It's-It's not fair to him. Or me. Or you."

I know. He admits quietly to himself because he doesn't think anyone knows better than the man who was holding the jagged ends of a once delicate thread. And he hates himself for it because hating you was as unrealistic as the existence of a greater being to him. He had tried. Tried turning to salvation. Tried to despise you for being the one thing that has turned him the best and worst person he can be but he just can't. He prefers hating himself better.

He wants this punishment, that is you. He wants to whisper I'm sorry- I'm sorry for leaving- I'm sorry for coming back in every crook and nook of your body for the rest of his life so you'd feel his expression of regret that could only be a product of love so consuming embedding into you.

Because it's truth. It's his truth, has been for years and years, before he even knew what are the consequences of being a honest person. Now that he is seeing you in front of him—you with a revolting look, a stray tear rolling down your eyes that is nowhere near as angry as it had been before, he understands that it's not a consequence he can take.

He dares to step forward again and even if takes a whole lot of power in him not to pull you into him again, he doesn't and only raises a hand and catches the tear with his thumb.

“You don’t get to do this to me.” you repeat, your voice low and trembling.

And so does his. "I know."

Jungkook didn’t know what he expected you to say, what he hoped for. Forgiveness? Understanding? He wasn’t sure he deserved either.

Yet when you don't pull away, look back at him with the same daring he had stepped forward with, a silence understanding passes between the space that is separating you from him. And he's done being separated from you.

He tilted his head down, his breath stirring your hair when he inhaled deeply, his nose tracing a path down until it rubbed against yours—softly, deliberately—as if giving you time to move away. You didn't and his eyes fell on your inviting mouth again.

Fuck it.

Jungkook surged forward, his hands cupping your face, tipping your face up to him as his lips crashed against yours. The way he kissed you was nothing like the way he had touched you. It was rough, desperate with the way tounge and teeth clashed, filled with years of pent up desire and regret and emotions too tangled to name.

He kissed you like the nights he’d spent staring at the ceiling in places too far from home, wondering if you’d be happier without him there to complicate things, wondering if things had been any different if he said something before. Will you have looked at him like the way you looked at his brother? Would that choice have saved you from years and years of tragedy? Would that have saved him from the weight of his guilt, his love—love that had been a silent, unwelcome presence in his life for so long that it felt like another organ, vital and inescapable?

When he felt you grip him again and kiss him back. Nothing else mattered. The world stopped spinning and he didn't wanted to run anymore.

His hands found your waist, gripping tightly. A low groan slipping from his mouth to yours at the feeling of how you melted against him when he deepened the kiss, tounge proding and exploring all that your sweet mouth had to offer. Gods, he was drunk now.

"Shit." He shuddered as the taste of you finally started to settle in, pulling you closer and closer, then pushing you back until your back met the wall of the hallway.

You should be scared, anxious and pushing him back. The mere thought of someone walking in on you kissing him, your supposed family. Should make you want to end this because you could only imagine the stake they'd pin you on. They'd be not wrong to.

This is traitorous—what you're doing, what you're allowing yourself. But so is a shameful part of you that had always reached for him. Something that whispered to you, so soft it felt like it came from inside your own chest.

It's not so bad. His lips feel good.

But oh, it is. It makes you sick from just thinking how bad it is. Anger, confusion, guilt—oh, the guilt—swirl together and make you so sick.

"W-We shouldn’t.." You gasp against him as your unpracticed lips suck on his in a contradiction.

"No, we shouldn't." He kisses you harder, his mouth only leaving yours to trail a train of kisses along the column of your accessible throat to him, making you whimper out loud that he takes as an sign to nibble and bite.

Your hands find their way to his shoulder and his to your hips. "Legs around me." He licks the length of your neck, narrowing your world down to the feeling of his provoking wet tounge on your skin, his calloused fingers squeezing your hips. It felt all too real now. And despite you being balant enough to start this in the first place, you're not sure if you're still feeling bold. What you are feeling is this sinful, unexplainable craving seeping into your bones, curling around your ribs, making it hard to breath and think. Or maybe it's him.

Whatever it is, you get yourself to pause his eager hands and hungry mouth and speak, your breath coming in short, hot puffs. "Jungkook.. I don't think-" He straightens up and the vulnerability in his voice and eyes is gone as he squeezes your hips tighter.

"Finally gave me that perfect mouth of yours and now you want to walk away? Do you like tormenting me, angel? Do you like knowing that I'd fuck my fist to only the thought of you when you do?" He growls against your ear and you feel yourself flush so hard you're sure he even feels the heat coming off you in ripples.

"Please, baby." He pleads unapologetically, fingers tugging you closer even when all of you is pressed against all of him. "I want you." So bad it hurts.

Gone is the man who had once been so armored, seemed so unreachable and untouchable. And left is Jeon Jungkook, who looks like he will crumble to the ground if you pull away now.

You wouldn't want that. But the words came anyway, right from where shame twisted in your stomach, tangling with the guilt that clawed at your throat. "Do you still want me even if I'm nothing like the woman I used to be?" It came out breakable and in segments, and the second they left your lips, you weren’t sure what to except as a answer.

For a moment, all you could hear was the ragged rhythm of your combined breathing.

You swallowed hard, pulling back slightly to meet his gaze. The intensity in his dark eyes was almost unbearable, raw and unrelenting as they searched yours.

"Don't ever say that again." he bit out, every syllable heavy. "I want you always. I want you with my every breath. There's always been only you for me, understand?" He added with a brief grind of his hardened arousal against your front, making you mewl.

The words, though, hit you like a physical forcek, breaking through the walls you’d built around yourself, the ones you’d convinced yourself were impenetrable.

Before you could respond, he moved.

His mouth fell onto yours again and with practiced ease, his hands slid to the backs of your thighs, lifting you like you weighed nothing. "Now. Legs around me, baby." he murmured in the kiss, and though your mind was a whirlwind of what seemed like every single thought you've ever had, your body obeyed.

You could barely figure out to where he was taking you, too engrossed in the kiss that you steered towards a softer, mellow one, fingers tangling in the hair that has grown a little bit on the nape of his neck. Feeling like you both were two audacious college students trying to find a space in a messy party where you both won't be interrupted.

When he halted in his steps, you assumed that he found it as he kicked it open with a firm nudge of his boot, the room beyond dim and quiet but he barely give you time to register anything else, his movements urgent and frantic as he carried you over to the bed in the middle after swiftly locking you both away. You bounced on the silk mattress as he set you down, though his intentions were grave, his actions or the way he held you was gentle, tounge swiping over his glistening lips like chasing the taste of you that made you want to give him once more.

Audacious, you were.

Your eyes on his face, shadows played along the planes, softening the hard edges of his jaw, but his gaze burned. Dark and piercing, it held you in place as if daring you to look away.

You didn’t.

Your eyes followed the sluggish movements of his hands as he reached up, his fingers deftly working the knot of his tie. The fabric slid free, whispering against the buttons of his dress shirt before he cast it aside, forgotten on the nearby chair.

Next came his jacket. He shrugged it off with practiced ease, the broad span of his shoulders rolling beneath the fabric. Your breath hitched as he discarded it, leaving him in the crisp white shirt that clung to his frame, the outline of him barely hidden.

And then his hands moved again, this time to his wrist.

You watched, mesmerized, as he undid the strap of his watch, the silver buckle catching the faint light. He pulled it free and set it down on the nightstand, the movement so fluid it felt almost rehearsed.

It wasn’t until he turned his wrist slightly that you noticed it—the worn thread of a bracelet wrapped around his wrist, faded from time and use but unmistakable.

The one you’d tied around his wrist when you were kids in an action of promise to stay friends for years to come.

But he still wore it.

He still wore it.

Your fingers twitched against the bedspread, the urge to reach out and touch him almost overwhelming.

And as if understanding your anticipation, he soon followed you down, your breath catching as he hovered above you. You waited for him to kiss you again because god help you, you liked a little too much but he only pressed a chaste one, smirking subtly at the pout that subconsciously formed on your lips that soon parted in a gasp when he started to suck on your neck again, this time with the intention to claim the spot with the scrape of his teeth.

He hummed against your skin, the sound deep and satisfied, before he drew your flesh into his mouth again, harder this time. The sharp pull sent a jolt of pleasure-pain coursing through you, thighs clenching together.

"My angel." he said softly, yet nothing was soft about the way he pulled down on the straps of your dress. The fabric slipped, baring the smooth skin of your shoulder, and he pressed his lips there, warm and firm, before trailing lower, his mouth following the path he’d just uncovered. "My undoing."

The red fabric gathered at your arms as he pushed it further, exposing the tops of your collarbones and the swell of your chest. His gaze flicked up to meet yours then, dark and questioning, seeking permission even though his hands were steady, his intention clear.

You nodded, perhaps with too much enthusiasm and earned a chuckle from him that you were sure was the reason for the wetness pooling between your legs.

You had missed that sound. You had missed him.

And he was hell bent on making up for lost time as he dived face first into your chest, humming again when he took in your pebbled nipple in his mouth, swirling his tounge around the roundness of you.

"Oh shit." Your back arched, hands finding their way to his hair again. Pulling and tugging. Urging him on until his hand was fondling the other, abandoned tit. Squeezing under his rough palms that made the heat lowering your stomach worse—all of it felt too much, too soon. And yet, it wasn’t enough.

It had been so long.

Too long since someone had touched you like this, with a reverence that made you feel seen, whole, wanted.

You told yourself it was natural, that anyone in your position would respond this way. That it wasn’t about him—it couldn’t be. But your body betrayed you before your mind could even catch up. Your legs wrapped around his waist once more as you ground yourself against him. Against the print of his bulging length you could feel pulsing against you.

"Fuck yeah.." You cursed low, head falling back on the pillows and Jungkook looked up, his own cock twitching at the sight of you, at the feel of you. Of everything he has ever wanted. Of everything he thought he would never have. But here you were straight from his flithest wet dream that would have him taking more cold showers that he could keep count of.

A goddamn miracle for him, this wasn't a dream.

"This here needs some attention too, hmm?" He rasped, hands slipping down from the curve of your waist, to bunch up your dress to your hips. Wasting no time in finding the wet mess you made of your panties. "Look at this." He grunted, hand cupping your clothed mound. "So wet."

You exhaled out like you'd been freed from shackles that felt too heavy and a whimper followed right after when he disposed you of them, exposing your deprived cunt to the cold air that had you clenching around nothing. "And so fucking responsive." He breathed against your bare sex after moving his head down.

You hadn’t expected that. You breath was bated, cheeks were flushed and heart was pounding at the view alone of his face between your thighs.

Then again, he was all about surprising you today.

Though, it didn't make it any less overwhelming.

The way his hands gripped your thighs, firm yet careful, as if he were both anchoring you and holding himself back. His fingers dug into your skin just enough to leave the faintest imprint, a reminder of where he had been, where he was. Your legs draped over his shoulders, trembling with a mix of anticipation and disbelief, as though your body was still catching up to the reality of this moment.

Never in your wildest dreams, it would have come to this. Come to Jungkook licking a greedy strip up from your folds.

"Jungkook—oh God!" You gasped and he groaned, feeling all of his restraint and the plan to savor this, to savor you, slip away from his tightening hands. One taste of you and he wanted to grasp every drop of like it would be his last.

And so he did.

Burying his face in your wanting pussy like a man with purpose, he lapped. His mouth wrapped around your clit, tounge swiping and licking with a reverence because you were something sacred, something he had put on a pedestal so high, others in his life barely mattered.

"Oh- mhm. Feels so good!" You moan out, mind in a haze of pure fog and he takes it as his cue to plunge his digit inside your dripping core. You're sure you've got no mind now. Grunts of his own leaving him at the thought of your heat wrapping around his aching cock instead.

He felt no shame in that. No shame in what he was doing right now. Because then you moved, your body arching toward him as if to erase every doubt. Your fingers found their way to his hair, tugging as selfishly as he fed on you, flatenning his tounge on your slit to take all he can get, to give you all he can.

A shaky exhale brushing against your folds. The sound was low, guttural, and filled with more longing than he knew how to contain. "Does it, baby? Sweet pussy's feeling good?" His fingers—knuckles deep now—worked you faster, curling and testing ways to get you closer to the edge.

This was more desire that he knew he was possible of as his hips started to rut on their own, seeking friction in a way that was both instinctual and helpless. Brain flat lining. Face drowned in the essence of you. Desperate, as you pulled on his hair. Pathetic, as he chased his own high from just the taste of you, from just how you enveloped his curving fingers. Ecastic, when you finally reached your breaking point from how he alternated between broad strokes and targeted flicks, making you come all over his mouth that kindles his face, that he swallow all because he refuses to let anything go to waste.

"Ah fuck—Oh lord!" You fingers tear in his scalp and hips bucked against his face, eyes rolling back until they whitened.

Oh.

It was in this moment, with your thighs braced against his shoulders and his name spilling from her lips, that Jungkook knew.

He would never be the same again.

That he too would be coming in his pants like a high school boy.

It wasn’t enough—nothing would ever be enough—but it was all he had, and it drove him to the edge faster than he would’ve liked to admit. The tension inside him snapped before he could stop it, his body tensing and toes curling because he found everything else secondary to the sheer joy of watching you fall apart beneath him.

"Oh shit, y/n. Shit. Shit. Shit." He whimpers against your cunt, his hips finally slowing down their mindless movement. His forehead pressed against your thigh as he caught his breath. His chest heaved, his heartbeat thundered in his ears, and his entire body felt like it was vibrating, the aftershocks of his release making his muscles twitch.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry, and shifted slightly, pressing a kiss to your clit before leaning back up to feel another wave of release threatening to overcome him when he sees your content expression, hands loosening their grip in his raven hair, half lidded eyes meeting his own before they trail down. "Y-You.." You didn’t know what to say, couldn’t have spoken even if you tried.

A lazy smirk made it's way to his lips that caught the light before he licked whatever remnant what was left of you on his fingers.

"I'm a starved man, angel. Cut me some slack." He panted, pinching your bud in emphasis and moved back up before you could even process it, the warmth of his breath retreating, replaced by the cooler air of the room as he straightened. The absence of his lips against you left you gasping, your chest heaving, your pulse thundering in your ears or maybe it was you still riding your orgasm or maybe it was the knowledge that he came in his pants from just eating you out.

Then he was there again, his hands sliding from your thighs to the mattress on either side of you, bracketing you in like a secret he refused to let escape.

"Hi." He breathed against your forehead.

You felt a shy smile twitch on your lips. "Hi." You reply just as breathlessly.

He presses another kiss, this time to the tip of your nose. "I'm gonna fuck you now, yeah?" You couldn’t reconcile it.

How could he say things that made your cheeks flush, your body respond in ways you couldn’t control, while his lips brushed against your temple with a tenderness that felt like an apology?

How could he make you feel like you were unraveling and being held together all at once?

You wanted to know. "Mhm. Please." You mewl, hands softly going through the beautiful mess that you made of his hair.

"Please, what?" He demanded, lips on your cheek.

"Please fuck me." You whine and he bumped his nose against your face, chest rumbling from a sound so feverish that you can't help but grind against him again. Coaxing his cock back into hardness with your bare cunt against him, from the realization that you shared the insatiable urges with him.

It got his hand trembling when they reached down to unbind his belt, pushing the fabric down his hips to reveal predicament he's made of his boxers that were bounding his hard, leaking cock but hell if he had it in himself to care.

He had been bidding his time for far too long. Waited enough—longer than any man should have to wait for something that felt this inevitable, this right, this his.

Ridding himself of the last piece of clothing on him, other than the white dress shirt that flexed against his coiled muscles, he took himself In a fist, groaning when he pumped himself in one slow stroke. Eyes never leaving your wide ones like you weren’t sure if you should be impressed, intimidated, or both.

Your breath hitched audibly, and your chest rose and fell as your eyes darted from his face to the undeniable evidence of his arousal. Heat bloomed across your cheeks, but you couldn’t seem to tear your gaze away, couldn’t stop the thought that immediately took hold.

"You're too big." Your throat dry, and your fingers fisted the sheet beneath you, trying not too think too much about how thick he would feel down your throat. The sounds he'd make when you would lick him just right.

"And you're gonna take every inch." He said it like a statement, a prominent vein popping in his neck when he finally let go of the locked gaze and focused instead on compressing the tip of his angry, veiny cock to your slick folds.

"Won't you, angel?" He asks with a confident smirk passed your way for a second before his breath wavered again, brows scrunched together and if it wasn't for his tip nudging inside you, you'd thought him endearing.

But once his tip is actually is in, you're left with no thought. Rendered speechless, eyes falling shut when he starts to jab inch by inch.

"Dear lord—" You gasp out loud. The sheet beneath you not providing much semblance so you switch to his shoulders. And you swear, he feel him shake when he is finally all in. Closes his eyes and relishes in your heat stretching around. "Fucking hell." The sensation was overwhelming—heat and softness so consuming it felt like his mind short-circuited, every thought dissolving into static.

But you feel that its your pussy that feels like it's going to split apart any moment now that's stopping him from moving. And partly it is. "You're so..tight." He hisses out and squeezes your hips with great roughness.

"Been long since you've been fucked, eh?" He muses, dark hungry eyes devouring yours when he makes an attempt to move inside you like he was testing your limits. Your mind reels, caught between the sharpness of the initial sensation and the overwhelming desire that followed.

He felt impossibly big, like your body wasn’t prepared for the sheer intensity of him, and for a fleeting moment, doubt crept into your thoughts.

It’s been so long.

The thought came unbidden. Your body had grown used to quiet nights and cold sheets, to the impersonal hum of a vibrator and the absence of warmth.

"Been so long." You confirm, nails clawing at his shoulders, mimicking the roughness that only spurs him on. His lashes fluttered shut, his forehead drops to your shoulder and with a whine of disagreement from you, he pulls back fully just to (to your satisfaction) bury himself back to the hilt.

An unadulterated moan from you broke the silence, a sound so sweet it made him want to come right there and then again. But he'd much rather have you convulse first. Priorities.

His jaw clenched, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he started to move his hips against yours, slow and deliberate, like he needed to feel every inch of your.

Your legs tensed around his hips, pulling him closer. You couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop the way your body reacted to him, your mind a dizzy blur of heat and need and overwhelming sensation.

He pulled back again, the drag of him leaving you feeling empty, only to return with the same slow, measured thrust.

“That’s right,” he muttered, his voice rough and uneven, barely coherent through the sounds your free spilling moans and the fact that his face was buried in the crook of your shoulder. “You’re—fuck, you’re perfect.” His voice unrefined at the edges, raw with honesty and disbelief, like he couldn’t believe you were really here, with him, like this.

Your hands slid down his back, clinging to the flexing muscles beneath your palms. You suddenly didn't like that his shirt was still on. Wanting to map out his bare skin with every graze of your nails. But with each thrust, pleasure sparked at the base of your spine and spread outward, your thoughts scattered like autumn leaves.

"Yeah- Oh mphm! Just like that!" He flourished in your cries of encouragement, his grip on your hips tightening, his fingers digging into your skin as he was afraid he'd lose control too soon.

And you wanted nothing more. "F-Faster! Please go faster!" His pace was unhurried but devastating, every pull and thrust deliberate, designed to drag you to the edge and keep you there, teetering. You couldn’t take that anymore.

And Jungkook couldn’t take keeping you unsatisfied. His lips found the corner of your mouth, brushing against it in a fleeting kiss before moving lower, his teeth grazing your jaw. His hands moved to your thighs, urging them higher, wrapping them around his waist as he drove into you with more force, more intent.

“taking me so well, was made for this cock.” Were made for me. he praised, his voice sounding like a backdrop to the obscene sounds his hips snapping against yours as your own body moved with his, meeting him with the same intensity, the same desperate need. "Yeah." He grunted, punctuating his words with a squeeze to your boob. "Fuck me back. Use me. Feel me."

All you could possibly do was feel him.

He felt like fire and electricity all at once, a heat that spread from your core to the very tips of your fingers and toes.

“Jungkook…” you whispered again, your voice catching on the syllables when his head tipped forward, his forehead pressing against yours, his damp hair brushing your skin.

He whimpered in response, a deep, guttural sound that reverberated through you, and he pistoned his cock harder, pulling a cry from your lips that you couldn’t hold back.

"I-I missed you." You can feel tears gather in your eyes again. You don't even know why. Why you're repeating what you've already admitted. Why the words feel more vulnerable now. All you know that you missed him and the coil is tightening in your stomach.

Jungkook, too feels like he will break down any moment when he stares down at you. But he’s got a impending orgasm to deliver.

He kisses your eyelids, is tempted to lick the tears that slowly make their way down to your chin but doesn't. He's not sure he'll be able to handle the taste of your despair without feeling like he has to chastise himself for ever being the reason for it.

"I know. I know." His cock thrusts with renewed vigor. "I missed you too. I missed you." He says through his gritted teeth, feeling how your walls fluttered around him.

"Gonna cum now?" He knows what your answer will be. There's a smug underline tone in his rasps that gives him away. How he takes pride in knowing that he's the one to make you release all this tension; once on his mouth; then on his cock that is pulsing with an reoccurring ache.

You can only manage to nod, lips tightly tucked between your teeth, hands scratching and marking on his once crisp shirt that is now crumpled from the fate of your hands.

"Gonna soak my cock, huh? Go ahead, baby. Go ahead and come with me." He demands, his hand slipping between you to rub tight circles against your puffy clit that is just enough to tip you over at last.

"Koo.. ah..oh god!" The name you've always called him with a fondness falls unintentionally from your lips when your walls tighten for the last time and you release all over his cock that is now stuttering with it's every thrust.

"Oh fuck. Call me that again." He all but snarls. Cock turns firmer inside your heat that hugs him. And balls screw up.

"Koo.." You whine and that's all he needs before thick ropes of white hot cum is spilling inside you, filling you to the brim. "Mhm, take it all. There's my girl. Pussy looks so good stuffed with my cum." He grinds the best his spent body can into yours that still welcomes him and fuck if that doesn't make him never want to leave.

And he doesn't, for a moment, when he collapses onto you. Just not enough to crush you under his weight. Just enough to latch his lips where ever he can find and whisper words of affection. "Could'nt fucking breathe without you." He's yet to get enough of you. This life won't suffice, he thinks. Then finally pulls out his softening cock from your slick hole with a hiss.

You too feel the loss the of the connection that had pulsed faintly between you, leaving you achingly empty.

He moved with the same carefulness, reaching for the tissues on the bedside table. The room was quiet save for your mingled breaths as he knelt beside you, his touch impossibly tender as he wiped at the inside of your thighs. You shivered under the cool press of the tissue against your skin, the sensation making you acutely aware of the aftermath—the way your body still quivered, the way your breaths still came uneven.

You stared at the ceiling while he did so, the edges of your perception blurred as you tried to silence the tingles that still hummed across the length of your legs. A reminder of how throughly he had disentangle you, how throughly his very essence had penetrated into you.

You were ruined by him.

There was no going back from this. You knew that.

What scared you was the realization that you didn’t want to.

You just didn't know how to admit that out loud where everyone and he could hear you.

Your eyes seeked out for him as if that alone could answer all your questions. He returned back against you without a question. Hands finely adjusted the strap of your dress and drew you closer to him with a soft voice, hoarse from the strain of everything he’d given you. "Come here, angel." Bundled you up in his arms and then only did he breathe out.

Your breath stayed differing. “Why do you call me that?” Your voice was curious but tentative. “I don’t think I’ve ever asked you.”

You felt his lips curve up against your temple. "You were wearing this really pretty white dress the first time I met you." he began, his voice quiet, almost wistful. “Had these frills on the sleeves. I thought you looked like an angel."

You tried to piece together the memory. “That was so long ago."

It might be understood that it takes months to fall in love but Jungkook had been falling all his life.

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kushinadragneel · 6 months ago

Text

Sylus brainrot bcs I cannot stop it so

Dad! Sylus, dragon! Sylus (blame my friend and our rp, I adore them), king Sylus actually, twins (I love how the whole fandom seems to agree on that), headcanons, short

Genres: fluff, kind of hurt/comfort with a lil bit of angst/sad, very indulgent, might be a bit ooc, admittedly very influenced by my oc as the thoughts swirled with her in mind

Mentions: pregnancy, female anatomy, motherhood, post partum, insecurities, lactation (not the kinky kind)

Dragons were peculiar beings, you've found out as quite the only human in this weird, entirely draconic kingdom. Though, so to speak, you were the weird one here, lacking horns, scales, a tail…

To say you've had many to learn was an understatement. From heats to mating to their habits, everything had been new.

But there you were, mated to their very king and very much pregnant sooner than quite expected to Sylus's delight.

So here's how your pregnancy goes:

Sylus discovered you were pregnant before you even thought of it. He said your scent got sweeter

You were put on rest instantly. Wrapped in furs that deeply smelled of the both of you, with the finest of silk as clothes and constantly doted on

His habit of scenting you? Got even worse. He's constantly glued to your side. Claims he can't help it, it's in his very instinct to protect you.

He was constantly piling up food on your plate

One child was a blessing. Hearing two heartbeats? Unheard of. Unprecedented

He was glued constantly to your tummy so he heard them. He denies crying to this point, but his eyes had been watery

Carries you whenever for his own pleasure. Your feet have barely met the ground, even as you got fuller and heavier

Massages you when he feels you being restless or tired

Constantly caresses your tummy and talks to the babies

Guilty of taking naps with you, curled around you protectively

Also guilty about stirring the twins with his nips, licks and caresses (got decked one too many times by his babies)

You and him bickered on who the kids will resemble (they ended up mini carbon copies of him)

Dragons do start being more welcoming to you and you slowly start feeling included in the community you're very emotional about it

"One carries a child for 9 months and they end up looking like their father!" one of the dragons playfully complained, pretty much in a similar situation to you. "Doesn't it ever bother you?" she asked curiously

No, it doesn't. Sylus is the favorite parents and the twins have your temper. Bless his patience

Talking of patience, he's had plenty of it with you. Especially as you were pretty much glued to his side and snappy to everyone else your instincts craved your mate pretty heavily during the pregnancy. And after

Talking of after

The first two weeks had been so hectic you were more in and out of sleep, barely remembering anything

Sylus is the light sleeper between the two of you. Surprisingly attuned to the kids, considering they barely start squirming and he's already picking them up

He's constantly scenting them. Playing with them. Is a natural at holding them in the weirdest positions while they babble and laugh

Very protective and possessive of them. Nobody but you and the doctors are allowed to touch his precious treasures (even the doctors are constantly under his scrutinizing gaze)

He does so much it's quite making you feel bad. Especially as the twins seem to favor him right out the womb and seem to need you just for feeding

It's been two weeks and you barely even remember anything. It crushes your soul, especially as one of the babies starts getting fuzzy and he is again the one reaching out for them, soothing the precious chubby cub between his arms.

It makes you sniffle and you have quite the breakdown about not being a good enough mom, crying about how he's doing everything and you barely feel like you've done anything.

He soothes you by holding you closely and nuzzling your hair. "You deserve to rest. You're doing more than enough. Let yourself heal"

You get worried about how much time he actually spends glued to your side, simply because it feels like he's ignoring his duties as a king because of you

He does explain to you that dragons do understand and nobody would be insane enough to expect him to not be by your side constantly at first

Tender moments

He always makes sure to have a regular bath prepared for you and is keen on washing your hair

He truly is a fiend. A kiss stealing fiend

His hands are so gentle over your body, massaging oils and kissing every inch of you. God forbid you ever feel less than wanted, he would snap someone's neck

He's still a flirt with you, just softer

He's actually more worried than you, he just doesn't let it on

He has to stop himself from growling whenever his kids stumble or cry at anything they find scary

The twins are menaces. He spoils them too much

He plays fight with them in the way wolves and lions do. He fakes being tackled to the ground and everything. Barely has the heart to scold them when they nip a bit too seriously at his skin

Though, he does have the heart to scold them when they try the same with you. He's very stern about your safety

#lads sylus x reader #lads x reader #lads #lads sylus #lads x you #lads x y/n #sylus #dad sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #dragon sylus #king Sylus #why isn't that a tag

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letsbangts · 6 months ago

Text

answer your phone || jjk

⤷ summary: when the consequences of his actions come calling

⟡ sequel to mutt ⟡

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ word count: 12.8k+ (I couldn’t stop 😳)

18+ // mdni

⟶ genre: angst, smut, fluff, friends with benefits au

⟶ content: fuckboy!jk, tattooartist!jk, jk is on a downward spiral (it's what he deserves), oc is struggling as well, taehyung is the shoulder to lean on everyone deserves

⟶ warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content: kissing/making out, groping, protected sex, nipple play, oral (m. & f. receiving), markings (hickeys & other bruising), a bit of dirty talk & praising, fingering, teasing, multiple orgasms…I think that’s it?

⟶ part: 2/3

↬ a/n: HERE IT IS MUTT PT 2! firstly I want to say thank you for all the love & support i received on pt 1 it truly meant so much to me ♡ OKAY so you all wanted #justiceforoc and to see jk grovel so the tables have definitely turned on him ;). angel xoxo

↬ a/n2: p.s bold italics are lyrics & flashbacks are indicated by arrows (《,》)

˖⁺. ༶ NOW PLAYING ༶ .⁺˖ answer your phone leon thomas 01:43 ─✮───── 03:07 ⇆ ⊲ II ⊳ ↺ ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮

previous part ˚.⋆˚.⋆˚.⋆ series masterlist ˚.⋆˚.⋆˚.⋆ masterlist ˚.⋆˚.⋆˚.⋆ join my taglist

Answer your phone I’ve got to talk to you

Jungkook is sitting on his couch with a girl’s lips all over his neck and her hands all over his body, but his eyes are fixed on his cellphone lying on the coffee table. Instead of focusing on how her tongue is licking at his throat or how her hands grope him through his pants, he can only focus on you.

He stares at the phone that won’t ring, at least not with you on the other end. It has been over a month since you stormed out of his place. At first, he left you alone and didn’t try to reach out because he thought you needed to cool off. Jungkook has dealt with this hot and cold shit with others before; he knows they’ll be back eventually, whether he makes any effort or not. And it’s so much easier not to. But he has been calling you for weeks now with no success.

This past month, Jungkook has been with a handful of women, hoping to feel something, but he hasn’t. Not even with the aid of an empty bottle or a joint— and he’s certainly had plenty of both— nothing makes him feel as good as you do. Whether it’s getting his dick sucked by any of the random women he’s taken into the bathroom of a club or bending one over in the backseat of his car in the parking lot of the tattoo studio, getting on top of someone else to distract him from you hasn’t helped as he thought it would.

He is still trapped in his thoughts, even though the girl with him right now is attractive, with a nice body and a skillful pair of hands. He’s annoyed that her lips don’t send tingles down his body like yours do, that her hands aren’t as soft as yours and that she doesn’t have her fingers running through his hair the way you do.

He misses you.

He pries the girl’s hands off him and pushes her back as he lets out a deep sigh. She looks at him with a confused expression.

Jungkook licks his lips and, without looking at her, says, “I think we’d better stop; you should go.”

The girl attempts a seductive smile as she moves to unbuckle his belt.

“Stop? We haven’t even started anything. Come on, I’ll make you feel good, big boy.”

Jungkook rips her hands off his belt and rubs his hands over his face in frustration.

“Look, I’m just not feeling this, okay?” he says exasperated.

The girl’s face drops, and her whole demeanour changes.

“Are you fucking serious, Jungkook? Not feeling this? Can you not get it up or something? Is your dick really that pathetic?” she snarks, her eyes scanning him up and down.

He gives her a pointed look with his pierced eyebrow raised as he rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek and chuckles bitterly. He shakes his head, sniffs, and sits up straighter.

“Okay, listen here, Emilia—”

“It’s Emily!”

“Whatever the fuck your name is, I don’t care. I tried to be nice about this, but if you want to provoke me, that’s fine. You’re right; I can’t get it up because I can’t even pretend for a goddamn moment that you turn me on, not even in the slightest, so get your ass out of my fucking house,” he sneers through clenched teeth.

Right after Jungkook finished speaking, he felt a sting on his cheek. The response to his words was a sharp slap to his face and, once again, another upset girl storming out of his place, slamming the door behind her.

Jungkook shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose. A metallic taste begins to form in his mouth; he must have bitten the inside of his cheek on impact. He rises to his feet and walks to the bathroom. He leans over the sink, gripping the porcelain edge as he spits out blood. Jungkook stares at himself in the mirror and runs a hand over his reddened cheek, marked with a fresh cut from the girl’s ring-clad hand.

He isn’t bothered that the girl is upset because he doesn’t care about her. Jungkook couldn’t care less about whether he was an asshole to Emma; all he cares about is you and how he needs to talk to you.

Answer your phone Give me a minute, please Has your heart turned to stone? Have you no sympathy?

He has texted and called you an embarrassing number of times, waiting with every ring to see if you’d pick up so that he could hear your sweet voice. And he does, but only when he’s met with your voicemail — “Hey, this is Y/N. Sorry, I missed your call. Please leave me a message, and I will get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks!”— which is a lie because you never do. Still, he leaves voice messages, hoping you will listen to them and call him back. He hopes that with every call, his persistence will make you curious enough to answer and talk to him, even if only for a minute.

Jungkook turns on the tap and washes his face; the cool water momentarily clears his head. However, once he raises his head and looks at his reflection again, his fringe drips with water, droplets falling onto his shirt. He is overwhelmed by the thought of you all over again.

He knows you can’t be too mad at him because you haven’t blocked him, not his number or on social media. It is how he knows you’re not that hung up on what happened since he sees you posting, whether casually going out for coffee or all dressed up to go party with your friends; regardless, in all of them, you look stunningly beautiful.

It makes him miss you even more and makes him unsure if blocking him might have been better, since Jungkook has seen some guys in your posts and noticed how they sometimes have an arm around you or how you lean in a little bit too close to them for his liking. He wonders if they are just friends; even if they are, he’s sure they want to be more. Have they tried anything with you? Are you dressing up like that for one of those guys? Are you trying to move on with one of them? Is that the reason you’re ignoring him?

The thought alone of you with someone else drives him crazy, but having to see you with some guy who probably doesn’t even know you that well makes him furious. Jungkook knows you better than anyone of those chumps could, yet they get to be around you while he is stuck looking at your angelic face beside some happy idiot through a screen like a loser.

Jungkook bets none of those guys know that you hum while getting ready, don’t know that when you’re in the car while it’s raining you turn off the radio to listen to it fall, don’t know that you can’t sleep wearing pants or socks, don’t know that you hate drinking room temperature water, don’t know that you do this adorable little happy dance when you really like the food you’re eating, and bets they don’t know that the guy who put that tattoo on your hip has fucked you every way under the sun.

Shit. He misses you.

Misses how you would thread your fingers through his hair, scratching softly at his scalp while he had his head in your lap as you both watched TV, misses how you would listen to him complain about a client while you fiddled with his earring but with such attentive eyes that showed you were paying attention, misses how you would scrunch your nose and blush when he made a flirty comment, misses how you would somehow take the pressure of the day off him simply by hugging him.

Why won’t you answer? Why won’t you give him a proper chance to explain himself and apologize? Did all your feelings for him vanish? Has your heart just turned to stone? Don’t you see how hard he’s trying? Don’t you have any sympathy for him?

Upon realizing that his teeth are grinding together and his fists are clenching so tightly that his knuckles have turned white, he pulls himself together, relaxing all his muscles, and heads back to the living room with determination.

Jungkook grabs his phone off the coffee table before sitting on his couch. With his elbows resting on his knees, he goes to his call log filled with your name and presses it, lifting the phone to his ear as he listens to the ringing for the umpteenth time.

I know I fucked this up I know I let you down But I’ve suffered long enough And you’re still not around

He bites his nails while tapping his foot anxiously; he concentrates on what seems like endless ringing. His eyes glance at the clock. You should be home from work by this time, he thinks. When your voice finally comes through—voicemail, of course. Jungkook didn’t honestly expect anything else.

He leans back, tips his head back against the backrest, and shuts his eyes for a second, trying to keep up with the rapid pace of his thoughts, and when he hears the beep of the answering machine, all those thoughts spill out of his mouth.

I know I don’t deserve it But please have some mercy ‘Cause I just might die if you don’t

Y/N POV

You hold your buzzing phone in your hand and watch as the screen dims once it’s finished, only to light up a few seconds later with a notification about a voicemail.

You hit the notification and bring your phone to your ear, you bite your lip when you hear the deep voice of the man you’ve been keeping at bay.

“Hey Y/N, I don’t know if you even listen to my messages anymore or if you ever did, but I’m not going to give up. I’m sorry, I know I fucked up and I know I let you down, but—fuck, Y/N, I miss you so goddamn much. It feels like I’ve been suffering for so long, like there is this knife that’s buried in my chest and keeps twisting the more time you’re not around. I know I don’t deserve it, but please have some mercy and answer me. Fucking shout at me and curse me out. Answer me and don’t say anything— stay silent if you want, but just answer me, please. I need to hear your voice, or see you, something—anything, because this is beginning to feel like a slow, painful death.”

You sigh as you lower the phone from your ear, swallowing the lump in your throat. You’ve never heard Jungkook’s voice so shaky; you’ve never experienced Jungkook being anything but confident.

Jungkook has been persistent in reaching out, and you have told yourself you must be just as persistent in your resolve not to answer. This past month has been devoid of any trace of him, but just because he hurt you doesn’t mean all your feelings for him have vanished. It’s been hard on you; so many times your thumb has hovered over the accept button when he called, but by the time you contemplate it, the call has already gone to voicemail.

Regarding that night, you have calmed down significantly since leaving his place feeling angry and upset. You have thought it over countless times, and although you still don’t condone what he did, you genuinely believe he didn’t act with ill intent. You just expected more from him; he always told you how it was different with you, that you meant more to him than anyone else. Only to then treat you like any other one of his insignificant flings. It made you question if you are so whipped for him that you failed to see he viewed you as a girl easy to fool. But you know Jungkook is more than just that one night; he may have disappointed you, but there have been many times he hasn’t.

You have ignored every attempt he made to communicate with you; yet, you haven’t blocked him on anything—it feels too final. Instead, you have been keeping yourself occupied. When you’re not working, you’ve been going out with friends, reminding yourself of who you were before Jungkook. Of course, you didn’t completely ignore your friends when he came into your life, but he did take up most of your free time.

They knew about him; while they may not have known all the dirty details of your relationship, they did know that you spent a lot of time with him and enjoyed doing so. And if you were happy, so were they. So when you replied in the group chat that you’d be joining them for a night out, they were shocked but didn’t ask any questions. They were excited to have the gang together and didn’t hesitate to ensure you had a good time.

Usually, you’d spend your weekends with Jungkook since you both were off then. You would be tangled in his sheets, a sweaty mess, put in various positions, inducing multiple orgasms. You had forgotten the thrill of being in the middle of a crowded dance floor, sweat rolling down your body from the heat of so many bodies so close together. Throwing back countless shots, you and your friends could barely dance in your heels and tight dresses without stumbling.

You’d also forgotten how much male attention you receive when going out and mingling with new people. Although there are still many creeps around—for whom you had to get your guy friends to come to your rescue—sometimes there would be someone who seemed harmless enough to flirt with, but then you would remember a certain doe-eyed, dimpled-smiled man and would turn them down.

One time, when you had used your friend Taehyung as an escape from an otherwise seemingly good guy, pulling him behind you and wrapping his arms around your dancing figure for protection, he asked you why you didn’t go for it. That was when you opened up and told him the full story about you and Jungkook. Taehyung has been a caring and understanding person for as long as you have known him, and he empathized with you when you explained your feelings and complicated situationship.

Since that night, he has been your confidant, your shoulder to lean on. He has witnessed firsthand how this month has not been easy for you, no matter how much you tried to forget about your fuck buddy/friend. After hearing about the detailed story of the last night you spent with Jungkook, he has been vocal about how you deserve someone who wants to be with only you and that you are more than enough. Yet, he never judges you and understands that you know a different side of Jungkook.

You know the Jungkook who moved all the mugs to the lowest shelf in his cupboard so that you could reach them, the Jungkook who sings loudly in the shower, the Jungkook who, when he first falls asleep, starts twitching with a cute, peaceful smile on his face.

You miss him.

You’ve passed the tattoo studio on your way home, stared at that flashing neon-red sign, and thought how all it would take to see him is for you to step through that door; if you just walked in and talked to him, maybe everything could turn around in your favour. You both could patch things up and be happy. You could be together.

You’ve looked through that window from afar, hoping to catch sight of the pierced, tattoo-covered man, reminiscing about when you were on the other side with him.

✧ ──── 《《 ──── ✧

The bell of his studio dings, signalling your entry. At the counter stands the pierced, tattoo-covered man you came for. He looks up from the book with his scheduled appointments, and when his eyes land on you, he flashes you that big, dimpled smile, the corners of his tired eyes crinkling in delight.

“Hey, baby. I wasn’t expecting you. What are you doing here so late?”

He drops his pen onto the book and rounds the counter, meeting you halfway. His lips press against yours in a quick kiss as his hands settle on your waist while yours find their way around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair.

“I could ask you the same thing. When you texted that you were still here, I thought I would stop by to see you,” you shrug.

Jungkook sighs and gives you a tight-lipped smile, lifting a hand to brush through his hair.

“My last client of the day cancelled on me, so I decided to stay back and work on some designs. I sent the others home, and I guess the time got away from me,” he scratches the back of his neck.

“Mmm, handsome and hard-working, what a catch,” you smile and tiptoe to give his cheek a peck.

“I don’t want to disturb you, though. Should I go?” you continue, rubbing your hands up and down Jungkook’s chest.

Jungkook shakes his head as he removes your hands from his chest.

“No, stay. I could use your presence; it has been a stressful day.”

He walks over to the studio’s entrance, flips the open sign, locks the door, and pulls down the blinds, now closing for the day. Lastly, he switches off the main lights, leaving only the multiple neon lights hanging on the walls in various designs and colours to keep you from the darkness.

He takes one of your hands into his, interlocking your fingers, and leads you through the dimly lit room to behind the counter, and to the desk you’ve seen him work at many times. He rolls out his chair, sits at his desk, looks up at you, and pats his thigh, and you comply with his silent request. You sit, his muscular thighs between your legs. He puts one arm around you, holding your waist to keep you steady, while his other arm rests on your thigh, his chin resting on your shoulder.

Once in his lap, you look at the glance over the wooden surface covered with scattered papers, all filled with his artwork. Some designs are drawn with intricate detail, while others are simple sketches. But they are all equally impressive—sometimes you forget how talented Jungkook is.

“Oh my gosh, Kook! These are amazing!” you gasp, picking up one of the sheets and turning your head to look at him.

He takes the paper from your hands and places it back on the desk. You see the tips of his ears turning red.

“They’re alright,” he shrugs; you notice he seems sullen.

You turn in his hold, your body sideways on his lap, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“What has got you so stressed out?” you ask, pushing back his fringe before moving your hand to fiddle with his earring.

Jungkook closes his eyes at the feel of your touch, exhaling a breath in relief. He leans forward, rests his forehead on your shoulder and hugs you tight.

“I just—that client, that was the fifth cancellation this month. I don’t understand why; we had several consultations, and I listened to all his requests. I showed him so many different design options that I had sketched for him. I don’t know, maybe—maybe I lost my touch or something.”

“Hey, now that’s not true; this stuff is unbelievable, Kook,” you gesture at the multiple illustrations on his desk, “And you have been completely booked up with back-to-back appointments every day, I have never seen you so busy.”

You tug on his hair, and he whines, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and pulling you closer.

“Plus, do you think I would let a guy who’s lost his touch anywhere near my skin with even a drop of ink?” you tease, your lips brushing his ear.

“That was months ago,” he mumbles into your neck, and you feel the coolness of his lip rings against your skin.

“Yeah, and I would still let you be the one to do it.”

Jungkook looks up at you and argues, “Not like I’m going to let anyone touch you besides me.”

You boop his nose with your own, which makes him chuckle.

“I’m serious, Jungkook. You are passionate about your job, and it shows in your artwork. You are such a talented artist, people see your pieces online and come from all different places just to get inked by you. You. Because you are fucking Jeon Jungkook,” you poke at his chest.

“Okay, okay,” he smiles softly as he brings your hand to his lips, kissing it gently, “How do you always know what to say to calm me down?”

Your eyes sparkle at his question, and you smile gently as you hold his cheek, your thumb caressing the soft skin while pressing your forehead to his, “I know you. Everything I said is simply the truth.”

Jungkook’s mouth parts slightly in surprise, but his gaze softens. His cheeks seemed to have flushed as well, but you weren’t sure due to the low lighting in the room.

“Thank you, baby,” he says almost shyly, and you couldn’t believe this was the same man who flirts with you so shamelessly at every chance he gets, nor the same man who has had you screaming in pleasure several times a night.

There are many sides to Jungkook, and you adored all of them.

You wrap your arms around his torso, embracing him tightly, burying your face in his neck, and he hugs your waist just as firmly, kissing your forehead.

You both sit like that for a while, and your breathing becomes in sync as if your bodies had become one.

“I-I’m…I’m glad you came here,” he clears his throat as his arms tighten around your waist, basking in your warmth and comfort.

Jungkook has vented to you about work before, but this time, it feels different. You’ve never seen him like this.

“I’m here anytime you need to talk, Kook,” you reassure.

“Well, that’s good to know…” he said with a nervous smile, “But I meant…I’m glad you came here that day to get your tattoo—that you came into my life.”

Your body freezes momentarily at his words, but soon a fire ignites in your heart and spreads throughout you. You are filled with pride and relief that he feels comfortable and trusts you enough to share his personal feelings so openly.

“I’m glad I did too,” you whisper, “I meant what I said, though, I’m here if you ever need to talk.”

“Okay,” he whispers, “Okay. But on one condition.”

“What?”

He tilts his head to look down at you, and you look at him through your lashes.

“You have to come and hold me like this when I do.”

“Deal,” you giggle.

“Seal it with a kiss,” he says, leaning down slightly.

You lift your head and meet his lips in an emotional kiss, which soon becomes more heated as your tongues mingle.

You move down his body, kneeling between his thighs. Your hands grip his belt, and Jungkook pants lightly, his anticipation and need high. You unbuckle it and unbutton his jeans effortlessly, then quickly pull them down far enough for his bulge to be exposed. As expected, he is already hard for you. The effect you have on him is always intense. You glance up at the heavy-breathing man above you, eyes hooded and bottom lip caught between his teeth.

You shift your focus from his bulge to his t-shirt, gripping it by the hem and pulling it up. When he realizes what you want, he assists you; he sits up a little, grabbing the back of the collar and pulling it over his head with one hand, fully exposing his toned core. Just like that, his shirt is off, and he tosses it to the floor to be found later.

Your hands create goosebumps across his exposed skin as they brush against his lower abdomen when you grab the hem of his boxers and pull them down. His erection springs up and rests against his abdomen, impatient for your touch.

At the sight of his big, veiny dick, you unconsciously drag your tongue along your upper lip. You quickly remove his jeans and boxers, along with your shirt, leaving you in your bra, panties, and skirt.

Your hand wraps around his shaft, and your thumb swipes across his head, smoothing the precum over his length to make it feel better. You stroke him gently a couple of times before leaning down and placing a soft kiss against the tip of his cock. Jungkook hisses at the sensation, and he throws his head back.

You slowly begin to move your hand up and down his cock; you enjoy building him up gradually and prolonging his release. A knowing look flashes across his eyes when he discovers what you are doing. He chuckles, and then you swirl your tongue around his head, causing the smile to fall from his face immediately as his hand grips the sides of the chair.

“D-Don’t tease,” he breathes heavily.

Your lips curve up into a barely noticeable smile at his reaction. You lick him from the base of his length to the top, swirling your tongue around his head once more before slowly pushing him between your lips and going down on him, your tongue pressing against his hardness as you take him in.

His abs clench at the contact, and a moan slips past his lips, “Fuck, yeah.”

You glimpse up at him; his eyes are closed tightly, and sweat is forming on his golden skin, the exact way you like seeing him when you suck him off. The fact that you could affect him like that without even doing very much boosts your confidence.

You start moving back up slowly, your hand wrapping around the base of his shaft and squeezing him gently, earning a whimper. You repeat your movements with eagerness.

You love giving him head, hearing his moans of pleasure, and having him fall apart at your touch.

After a few rougher squeezes from your hand, you suck harder and take as much of him as you can into your mouth, using your hand to pump the rest of him that you can’t fit.

“Feel good?” you ask the obvious question.

He whines and raises his hand to your hair, pushing his fingers through the locks and out of your face, “That feels so good,” he rasps.

You hum around his dick; you look up and find him already gazing down at you, his eyes dark with lust—an image you will carry with you to your grave.

You flutter your eyelashes at him and take him even deeper, fully engulfing his dick, his tip hitting the back of your throat each time you bob your head.

Jungkook gulps, and his eyes roll back in his head. You feel his hands tangle in your hair, pulling slightly as his hips thrust up into your mouth on instinct.

You go back to slowly moving your hand up and down his length, and it lasts for a few seconds until his hands are over yours, stopping you. Before you can question him, he takes your head in a tight hold and forces you to move faster, his large hands enveloping your head. He gently pushes down against your head until his entire cock is in your mouth and holds you there, your nose touching his pelvis. Your eyes water, but you power through, breathing deeply through your nose.

The man appears to be in pure bliss. His thighs are shaking, and his eyes are blinking rapidly, trying hard to stay open. His mouth is agape as he releases breathy moans, his chest heaving up and down.

“Your mouth feels so good, baby, fuck,” he growls.

When he is satisfied, he pulls you up off of his cock and removes his hands. You pop back up and let go of his throbbing length, a string of saliva briefly connecting your mouth to his tip. You gasp for air with tears streaming down your face, and you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Always such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” he says, lifting your chin and wiping your wet cheeks.

You nod with a sniff, your eyes still glassy.

Jungkook suddenly reaches forward to grab your hips and pulls you onto his lap. You quickly straddle him, your hands pressing against his chest as you grind softly against his dick. His lips crash into yours in a messy kiss; it lasts for a little while before he pulls away and looks straight at you, “You know I love having your mouth around me, baby, but I need to be inside you.”

Then he’s capturing your lips once more, his arms encircling your legs around his waist as he does so. His hands rest under your thighs, effortlessly supporting your weight. You’re so immersed in how seamlessly his lips meld with yours that you don’t notice you both have shifted from the chair until you feel him place you on the desk.

Jungkook glides his hands up your thighs, only to have them wind around your waist, pulling you against him with force. He stands between your legs, with your pussy pressed directly against his member.

You grind your soaked panties against him, causing his lips to detach from yours, letting a groan escape from his lips as he tilts his head back, exposing his neck in the process. You trail small, wet kisses from the side of his face, along his jawline, and down his neck, before stopping at the junction between his neck and collarbone. You suck harshly on his skin, earning yourself a few moans from Jungkook, and you feel his chest vibrate.

Jungkook takes hold of your neck, his hand on your throat and kisses you intensely, attempting to express the longing he has felt for you since the moment you walked into the studio. His tongue swipes against your lower lip, asking for entrance, and you don’t hesitate to let him in. As his tongue dances with yours, you feel his hands tug at your skirt before he pulls it down, pausing to allow you to lift off the desk enough for him to remove it along with your bra, tossing them to join the rest of the clothes on the floor.

The sight of your naked torso distracts him from doing anything else, and his gaze lingers on your breasts before it shifts to your hip, where your tattoo is. Jungkook’s hand instinctively glides over the skin adorned with black ink.

“It’s still my favourite piece I’ve ever done,” Jungkook mutters before he plants kisses along your sternum and then finally on your breasts. Before his lips can explore further, you cup his face and bring it back to yours, and you both smile into the kiss. He gathers you in his arms and moves toward the tattoo chair behind him.

Jungkook carefully lowers you onto the reclined chair, and you watch as he stands at the edge, removing the black jeans already halfway down his legs. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind that you’re watching every movement of his; you bite your lip and smirk, and it seems to turn him on even further, which urges him to discard his pants and join you quickly.

He crawls over you, supporting his weight with the arms on either side of your head. He gives you a quick kiss on the lips before he begins his exploration of your body, using his lips. Open-mouthed kisses are placed along your neck, across the curve of your breasts, and back up to your neck, where he decides to leave his mark by sucking on the skin at the base of your neck. The noises that escape your lips only motivate him to suck even more aggressively, creating even more red marks as he moves down your body.

“Kook, do something,” and as if he had been waiting for those words, Jungkook starts to move lower on your body until he’s hovering over your clothed pussy. You watch as his nose skims over the wet patch on your underwear. His hands smooth over your legs before they settle onto your hips, which he doesn’t leave unmarked as he sucks on the skin above your tattoo. Your hips rise, yet his stronghold stops you from squirming, “Kook, I need you.”

Upon hearing your desperate begging, Jungkook presses a finger to your covered heat, skillfully finding the bundle of nerves that have you writhing beneath his touch. He begins to rub between your legs, with the sole barrier to full contact being the delicate piece of cloth. He keeps teasing you through your panties, relishing the sounds you make as you squirm beneath him. Deciding that you’ve had enough of the torture, Jungkook hooks a finger under the waistband of your panties before pulling them down, revealing your glistening cunt. He locks eyes with you, and you observe from above as he slips a finger inside you, his stare unwavering. As he pumps his finger inside you, your head tilts back, and you let out a string of moans.

“You’re so tight, baby,” Jungkook comments before inserting another finger inside you, gentle kisses along the inside of your thighs as your hands weave into his hair. You’re surprised when you feel him sucking on your clit; the extra stimulation makes you tremble against his thrusting fingers.

“Mmm, and so wet. Your pussy tastes so good, so fucking sweet.”

“Oh my god, K-kook,” your back arches off the bed as he adds in a third finger while keeping his mouth on your sex. He smiles triumphantly upon hearing you repeat his name like a mantra, and sets out to ensure you’re moaning it even more loudly. You bite your bottom lip, trying to suppress your desperate moans, but it’s in vain when Jungkook curls his fingers within you, hitting a specific spot that causes you to clutch his hair tightly and cry out his name shamelessly.

Jungkook relentlessly drives into you, his fingers curled to target the spot that makes you moan his name, while his mouth remains attached to your clit, teeth lightly tugging and grazing the bud before his lips form a tight seal around it. You feel the pressure in your lower stomach intensify with every thrust of Jungkook’s fingers and every flick of his tongue, all leading up to your orgasm.

Jungkook watches as the wave of ecstasy flows through your body, and he swears you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, with the way your face contorts in ecstasy. His fingers are still thrusting inside, helping you ride out your high, but the oversensitivity soon becomes too much, and you have to push him away.

As you catch your breath, you take a moment to notice what a handsome man Jungkook truly is. Complementing his defined biceps and strong thighs were his abs, impeccably shaped, and you observe as the stunning man above you licks the remnants of you from his fingers. The sight has you wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him down so that his chest meets yours. Jungkook smirks at your action before he hungrily attacks your lips with his glistening ones, letting you taste yourself as you recover from your climax.

“Take this off,” you mumble against his lips, your foot at his lower back attempting to push his boxers down. He quickly complies with your request, shedding the dark grey boxers before leaning down to his jeans on the floor to retrieve his wallet from his back pocket and get a condom. He rips open the foil with his teeth, being careful not to tear the condom in the process, before rolling it down his length. He hovers over you again, keeping most of his weight off of you with the support of his arms.

Jungkook kisses your navel before trailing upward towards your breasts. His mouth envelops one of your nipples, sucking on it, he takes his time sucking one breast while kneading the other one before he switches. Your hands hold onto his biceps, gliding over his skin as he prepares your body for another climax. When he’s satisfied with the marks he’s left on your two mounds, he places one more kiss against your lips before looking into your eyes.

“Are you ready, baby?”

“Mhm, Kook. Want you so bad.”

And so Jungkook takes his length and aligns himself at your entrance, the tip of his member almost pushing past your folds. He gives you one last peck on the corner of your mouth before his member sinks into your pussy, making you wince at the stretch of your walls. He pushes himself until he is buried deep within you, causing you to whimper when you feel his full length inside of you. Jungkook groans loudly as he feels himself get embraced by the warmth and tightness of your wet, velvety walls. He reaches for your hands, lifts them to rest on both sides of your head, and interlocks your fingers with his. His forehead meets yours, and both of you share a longing gaze while relishing the moment. Once you’ve adjusted to his size, you move beneath him, and Jungkook takes it as a signal to begin his ravaging.

He pulls back all the way, leaving only his tip inside of you, before pushing himself balls-deep within you once again. You urge him on with your voice, calling for him to go faster and harder, and he complies by thrusting into you at an astonishing speed. With each thrust of his, Jungkook’s name escapes your lips in moans that fill the studio, along with his panting and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

You feel the warmth of his chest leave yours when he sits up, his hands gripping your waist, pressing his fingernails into your skin. The new position allows him to pull you to meet each of his thrusts, hitting at a new angle that makes you cry out his name. When he starts hitting that same spot that tipped you over the edge earlier, you grab his arms and pull him so that he’s on top of you again. His entire weight is on top of you, but you don’t care, not when his thrusts are paired with his lips on your neck.

You moan loudly, which is followed by your pussy convulsing around his cock, and Jungkook knows that you’re close. Your nails scratch against his broad back, leaving a stinging sensation that only adds to his pleasure. You’re sure he’ll have red marks all over his back as if he’s been attacked, but it’s a fair trade because he’s marked you plenty with his lips.

Jungkook feels you clenching around him even tighter than before, and he’s slamming his hips against yours, urging you to reach your climax. When Jungkook feels your nails dig deeper into his back, his hand reaches between your two sweaty bodies and draws circles on your clit, which sends you off into euphoria. Your second orgasm of the night hits you harder than the first, and your body would have trembled if it were not for Jungkook’s body in the way—the body that is still connected to yours and continues thrusting into you. Your swollen walls clench so tightly that Jungkook starts chasing his high. He groans loudly against your neck as he shallowly thrusts into you, helping both of you ride out your orgasms.

Jungkook sighs in relief, unaware how long he’s been holding his breath. Jungkook detaches himself from you, and you gasp lightly, feeling somewhat empty as the warmth leaves with him. He rolls off of you, and the two of you lie close together, side by side, attempting to regain your breath after the intense exchange. You sense his gaze from the corner of your eye, and when you turn to face him, your eyes meet his round, dark brown ones.

“Come here.”

Unsatisfied with just your shoulders touching, Jungkook turns onto his side, and you do the same before shifting closer to each other. His hands rest naturally on your hips as if returning to their rightful place. No words are exchanged between you, but there is no need to because you find yourself lost in the softness of his brown eyes, and he can’t help but mirror the wide grin plastered on your face. His hand moves to your tattoo, and you observe his expression as his fingers hover over the indelible design on your skin. His eyes hold a sparkle that evokes a certain emotion to wash over you.

“So, do you feel better?” you ask, breaking the silence of the afterglow, but he looks confused at your words, and you find the sight adorable. “You were stressed out…”

“Me? Stressed out? Huh, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You are the one who’s confused this time, but not for long, because the realization hits you when you see his mischievous smirk. You punch his arm playfully, and he grins almost too widely, his eyes forming crescents. His hands, which were placing feathery touches on your tattoo, are now tickling your sides, and he’s elated at the sound of your joyful laughter before pulling you against his chest.

Jungkook looks around the studio, the neon lights casting shadows on his face, “I feel good; how could I not? This is a first for me though— fucking at work.”

You look up at him with raised brows in surprise, and Jungkook smiles down at you and continues.

“You know, I didn’t think the next time I had you back in my chair would be like this.”

“Oh my gosh,” you blush and hide your face in his chest, a little embarrassed but mostly shy at his remark. He laughs, and you feel it rumble through his chest; his hand lifts to pet down the back of your head.

“You can’t be shy with me after all that. Every time I’m working on a client now, all I will be thinking about is you beneath me in this chair.”

“I can’t imagine what the crew would think if they found out what we did,” you mumble into his chest with a little laugh.

“They would think I’m a sterilizing expert because there will be no evidence of what happened here,” he sits up and gently strokes your ass, and then gives it a pinch, eliciting a gasp from you, “You’re in charge of the desk, you little minx; I’ll do the chair,” he winks at you.

You’re left to blush again, swooning as you both get up to remove any trace of the two of you in the studio.

✧ ──── 》》 ──── ✧

You blink away the tears forming in your eyes. Your thumb hovers over Jungkook’s name, you’re considering calling him back, just as you hear a knock at your door.

Answer your phone I’ve got so much to say I’m at my all-time low And it’s just too much to take

Jungkook can raise his hands and admit he didn’t handle that night as well as he could have, but he is truly sorry. He realizes that even if his intention wasn’t to hurt or offend you, what he did wasn’t his best moment. As much as he tells you that you are special to him and that what you two have is different, which is true—his actions didn’t match his words, and you deserve better than that. Jungkook may not be the perfect gentleman, far from it, but he is better than that, especially when it concerns you.

As the hands of the clock tick away and more time passes, he gets up and begins pacing.

If you listened to his message, you would have called by now, right?

Jungkook isn’t used to this—needing someone. Sure, he has desired certain women, and he always got them, but once the lust faded, he never wanted them to stay; he never needed them to stay.

He hasn’t always been like this, and he knows where it all began: the fear of giving his all to someone and then losing them, of handing over his heart to another and having them desecrate it.

Jungkook refused to be like his father; he watched him give his mother everything and love her immensely, only for her to run off without regard for him or Jungkook.

He fears emotionally connecting with someone else will end as he has always seen: being left alone and heartbroken.

Because inevitably, love is never simple, nor is it equal in the sacrifice of pouring oneself into another.

He can’t imagine what could be worse than letting someone in and loving so wholly, only to be left empty because you offered yourself up to someone undeserving.

Jungkook knows how good a man his father is, and if he could get burned and scarred by love, Jungkook knows he doesn’t stand a chance.

And who would willingly walk into a fire?

When people asked him why he didn’t get into a serious relationship, he would say, “I like change. Life is too long to commit to one person and too short not to explore your options.”

But that was before he discovered you. Once you fit into his life so perfectly, he knew he wouldn’t be able to live without you. He knew he had found that one constant in his life.

The constant being: Y/L/N Y/N.

What he shared with you has always been simple, and the effort you both put in has always been equal.

Jungkook never believed he would find that kind of connection, one that flows easily. Now that he has found it, he desires to keep you in his life and wants you to remain a part of him.

He will walk through the flames if you’re on the other side.

Jungkook has never been fond of lingering and preferred moving from one thing to the next, one woman to the next. He didn’t enjoy being too close; he always kept people at a distance, maybe not physically but emotionally. Tattooing has been the only steady thing in his life; he was committed to his craft.

But you broke down his walls, shattered the pattern—you got close. He found the courage to let his guard down. He knows there is nothing to be wary of, no looming feeling that he will be met with disappointment. Everything is easy with you.

His cowardice led him to rule out a love that hadn’t happened yet. Maybe he is a fool, but he can’t live with regret. He’s ready to dive off the deep end. It’s draining to always be on the defence, ready to push people away, and he’s tired. He wants to settle down and commit to you.

Jungkook can be vulnerable around you; he knows you won’t use his weaknesses against him like people have in his past. You don’t even view them as things that make him weak, just what makes him human, because no one can be perfect. However, he would argue that you seem to be pretty damn close.

He feels most comfortable with you; he trusts you and can be himself. There is no pretence with you; Jungkook likes who he is around you.

Jungkook loves you.

In your eyes, he is the guy who comforted you when he saw how nervous you were while getting your first tattoo. The one who keeps an extra hoodie in his car for you because you never dress for the weather. The one who finishes work and picks up takeout for the two of you to eat together. That’s the Jungkook you see, the one you know better than anyone else—the one you have wrapped around your precious finger.

Despite his many shortcomings, you’ve never asked him to be any different from who he is. You never judge him for the life he’s leading and never pressure him to change his ways, no matter how flawed. Yet you still never expect the worst from him.

So now, all he fears is that he has accomplished the one thing he dreaded the most, and has destroyed the link holding the two of you together.

Should he go to your place?

Jungkook hasn’t gone over because he didn’t want to seem overbearing; he wanted to give you your space until you felt ready to talk to him on your terms. Also, if you weren’t answering his calls, you most likely wouldn’t answer your door either.

But he doesn’t want you to think he won’t fight for you. He won’t lose you without a lack of trying. If Jungkook is anything, he is persistent. He has too much to say to you and isn’t about to sit here and take this distance any longer. He’s willing to do whatever it takes.

As he looks out of his window and stares at the hundreds of lights, he feels a new surge of determination; he is rising from this low point he has sunk into, fed up with wallowing in his self-pity.

He turns and strides to his door, yanking it open with vigour. He sprints down the stairs and rushes outside into the chilly night, heading straight for his car.

Jungkook pulls out of his spot and drives the familiar route to your house, accelerating down the road at the maximum speed permitted by law. In his state of urgency, it seems that all he encounters are red lights and stop signs.

His grip on the steering wheel tightens, and he has to hold himself back from stomping too hard on the gas pedal when the light turns green.

Answer your phone I’ve got to get to you God, I hope you’re alone And someone new isn’t next to you

Y/N POV

You gather yourself and halt your wandering thoughts to get up and check who is at your door. You are not expecting anyone, and you told your friends you won’t be going out with them tonight. Your excuse was being too tired from work, but honestly, you were just too sad to pretend you were okay.

Could it be him? He said he wouldn’t give up and had to see you. Do you want it to be him? You would be lying to yourself if you said no.

So it’s a surprise when you open the door and see Taehyung standing there with his hands in his front pockets, teetering back and forth on his heels.

Part of you is disappointed, not because it’s Taehyung but because it’s not Jungkook.

“Tae? I said in the group chat that I’m not going out tonight. Didn’t you see my message?”

He looks you up and down and barges in, walking past you.

“And didn’t you see my message? I said you are going out tonight, and I was coming to pick you up. Why aren’t you ready?”

You were so preoccupied with your phone, listening to Jungkook’s message and reminiscing, that you didn’t notice any other messages. But when you go to your chats, you see his words are true.

He plops down on your couch, stretching his arm out on the back and gives you an expectant look, his eyes wide and his brows raised.

“What?”

“What do you mean, what? Go get ready,” he makes a shooing gesture with his hand and continues.

“The clubs aren’t open all night—well, actually they are…” his brows furrow as he looks off into the distance for a brief moment, then catches himself, “But I don’t have all night, so let’s go!” he demands with a clap of his hands.

“I’m not going out tonight, Tae. I told everyone I’m staying home.”

You lie on the couch next to Taehyung, your back resting against the armrest.

“Didn’t we just go over this?” he points between the two of you, “You are going out; everyone is already at the club. They got a table, and I’m sure Jimin has already downed a shocking amount of shots, so we have to leave soon if we want to catch up.”

Taehyung taps your knee twice and then shoves your legs off the couch, bringing you to a sitting position. You take a deep breath and throw your head back, crossing your arms while closing your eyes.

“I don’t feel like going out. I want to stay home.”

“And do what? Continue to sulk over pretty tattoo boy?”

You open your eyes and turn your head toward him, pouting, “I was not sulking.”

He stares at you with a raised brow, filled with doubt.

Rolling your eyes and letting out a sigh, your arms drop to your sides, “I’m just not in the mood, I’ll only bring down the vibe.”

Taehyung turns his body to face you, a sympathetic expression on his face.

“You’re only making this harder for yourself by just sitting around and thinking about him, Y/N. I understand like him a lot—I do, but a guy like that isn’t worth wasting your life waiting for him.”

You look down at your hands in your lap and chip at your nail polish.

“He’s been leaving me messages. He tells me how sorry he is and that he misses me. He sounds like he’s having a rough time, too. That doesn’t erase what he did, I know. But it was just one mistake. He’s a good man, Tae. I’ve always known he wasn’t perfect, but everyone has faults, right?”

Taehyung holds your hand and squeezes it, leaning down to meet your gaze. His voice is careful when he speaks.

“People like him always know the right thing to say. If he were such a good guy, he wouldn’t have used you the way he did. Yes, everyone has faults, but you can find someone whose faults don’t hurt you. It may have been only one mistake, but if he truly cared about you as he claimed, he would have never treated you that way.”

Tears form in your eyes and your voice cracks, “It’s just—I know him; it sounds pathetic, but he has shown me a side of himself that I know he doesn’t show everyone. The real him. And that’s the Jungkook who has my heart. That’s the Jungkook I love. We’ve experienced so much together, it’s difficult to just move on from him.”

“If you don’t try to move on from him, how can you expect to, babe?”

He’s right; you haven’t tried. Throughout this entire period of your ignoring him, you have consistently kept Jungkook in your thoughts. Every time you went out with friends, every time a guy tried to flirt with you, and every time you held your phone—Jungkook. When you woke up, when you were at work, and when you went to bed—Jungkook. Even when you heard a knock at your door, as Taehyung did earlier, you hoped it was Jungkook.

Jungkook. Jungkook. Jungkook.

Your mind and heart were devoted to Jungkook. Everything revolved around him.

Your tears overflow, and you finally break. Taehyung wraps his arms around you, and you cry into his shoulder. He holds you until you calm down, and your sobs turn into sniffles.

You lift your head and wipe your cheeks.

“I’m such a mess, I’m so sorry, Tae. You came out to have a good time, and here you are consoling me. I have probably fucked up your fun night out,” you croak out, “I must seem so stupid, all hung up over a guy.”

“You haven’t ruined anything, and you certainly aren’t stupid. I would never think that of you. I know how much of yourself you give to someone important to you. I wish you would give yourself to someone worthy, not someone who takes advantage of you. You are an amazing person, and if Jungkook hasn’t realized how lucky he is to have you, then he’s the stupid one, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Tae. Not just for tonight, but for listening to me go on about Jungkook this past month like a sad, broken record. You stuck by me and have been so caring, always validating my emotions. I swear I’m the one who’s lucky and unworthy of you.”

“Nonsense, you know you can depend on me anytime,” he says, patting your head and smiling affectionately.

You smile back, glance down, and see his shirt stained with your tears.

“I ruined your shirt,” you sniffle, pinching at the fabric.

Taehyung looks down at it and shrugs, “Hey, I prefer your tears to stain my shirt rather than Jimin’s vomit,” he jokes to lighten the mood.

You laugh, and he points at your face, his expression bright.

“Aha! There she is! Happy Y/N, I thought I had lost her!” he exclaims.

He turns his head, looking around, arms stretched out as if speaking to a crowd, “Ladies and gentlemen, no need to fear; I have managed to make Y/N laugh.”

Taehyung once again proves to be the best friend one could have; you can always count on him to cheer you up and gather the pieces of your broken heart without fail.

“Shut up, Tae. I have neighbours,” you giggle, playfully pushing him.

He joins your giggles and returns your playful push, “Well then, go get dressed! If you don’t, I will run up and down the hallway screaming. I came here to take you out and have fun. Sitting at home alone can’t be better than partying with your insanely funny, incredibly handsome best friend. And if that isn’t enough, Seokjin’s dancing is a sure way to lift anyone’s spirit.”

“Okay, fine,” you agree, getting up with a big smile. The image of Seokjin’s dancing already boosts your mood.

Making your way to your bedroom, you yell out, “But if anyone comments on my swollen eyes, you’ll be dealing with them!”

“I’ve got your back, babe. Don’t worry!”

You can always count on Taehyung.

Tell me, tell me now am I too late Is there somebody new taking my place? Is there somebody’s lips on you Where mine used to be, yeah?

Jungkook parks across the street from your building; he sits in his car, pondering whether it’s too late to knock at your door. Are you already asleep? Should he have waited until tomorrow? If you answer and open it to find him standing there, will you shut it in his face?

He knows right now he’s not your favourite person, but he doesn’t believe you would be so cruel as to turn him away at your doorstep.

He rubs his hands down his face and lets out a deep sigh.

How could he let things end up like this?

He ruined something so special, so sacred. Building a relationship so pure and superior doesn’t happen to everyone, and he managed to have it hanging by a thread.

Your relationship can’t just end because of one mistake—a big mistake, yes, but he believes that what you two have is strong enough to overcome this. The two of you have made so many wonderful, meaningful memories.

Jungkook remembers how good things were before this—before he ruined everything.

✧ ──── 《《 ───�� ✧

Jungkook never imagined he would witness such a breathtaking sight: you bare before him, glazed eyes and slightly parted lips, lovely sounds escaping as he traced wet kisses along the nape of your neck, down your throat, over the curves of your breasts, pausing to swirl his tongue over a sensitive bud, drawing out his name from your throat, the same one now decorated with shades of blue and purple.

“Please, Kook,” you beg, pleading with him for more, and he is more than willing to give it to you, knowing he can hardly deny you anything.

He smiles, kissing his way back up to your lips, positioning his body over yours and aligning his hips so he can slide into your warmth with a soft thrust, the wetness coating the inside of your thighs showing how aroused he has made you.

You clutch at his shoulders with a moan, nails digging in and creating crescent shapes with every thrust he makes. Jungkook fucks you slow and deep, hitting every nerve within you, making you unravel before him in no time at all. His lips move slowly against yours, tongues twirling together as your legs wrap tightly around his body, drawing him closer and deeper into you, his sighs of contentment pouring into your mouth.

Jungkook is sure this is what heaven feels like: his hands on you, hips rocking against your own as you devour the sounds escaping each other’s lips. You encourage one another until he picks up pace, gazing down at your face, cheeks flushed and lips swollen.

The coil in your stomach tightens, twists, and is ready to snap. Jungkook is also at his limit, eyes hooded but maintaining eye contact with yours, his forearms supporting his weight on either side of your body.

Overcome with pleasure, the feeling of his skin against your own, united with you in the most intimate way two people can be. The act is sinful, but fully infused with the profound bond you both share. What you and Jungkook have cannot be expressed in words, and he does not think the two of you need to articulate what you both understand.

“Come on, baby, cum for me,” he husks, gently nibbling at your jaw.

One of his hands moves to where your bodies meet, flicking his thumb over your clit repeatedly. Then you come undone, the release so intense that his name echoes off every corner of the small bedroom. He continues throughout your orgasm, prolonging it until the sensation of your walls tightening around him brings him to his climax, spilling inside of you with a groan of your name, lips pressed harshly to yours, putting everything he feels into a single kiss.

He pulls away, carefully removes the condom and ties a knot at its end before disposing of it and falling onto the bed, shifting onto his side to look at you. The moonlight streams through the window, illuminating your skin in a radiant glow. Jungkook trails his fingertips along the surface of your arm, moving down until he reaches your hip, pulling you closer to him as you tuck your head into his chest.

Jungkook spots the numerous red crescents on your body have already begun to take on a darker colour, almost as deep as the black ink he used for your tattoo. Jungkook wishes for nothing more than the colour of the marks to be so deep that it will cover you forever.

He holds you close, his thumb brushing over the familiar tattoo on your hip— the everlasting mark that brought you two together. You found each other that day months ago when you walked into his studio and had him ink his design on you, and ever since then, you have been a part of his life. The ink serves as a reminder of the bond between you and Jungkook, etched onto your skin just as you are to him.

“You should let me give you another one.”

“What do you think I should get?” you whisper against his chest.

“My name, here,” he replies, his inked finger tracing just above the left side of your chest, right over your heart.

You smile as you push him so that he lies on his back; you move to lie on your stomach between his legs, your chin resting on his chest. His hands come to your back, caressing it up and down.

“Hmm, and you’ll get my name here,” you lightly run your pointer finger over his left pec.

Jungkook lifts a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, smiles tenderly, and nods while humming in agreement. His fingers linger, skimming your face as his gaze softens. His eyes are filled with adoration as he looks at you.

Jungkook can feel your heartbeat against his stomach; he wonders if you can feel his own under your touch. Both of your hearts are beating rapidly, which he assumes is due to the physical exertion you both just experienced and not from this impassioned moment you two are having.

He can physically feel how much affection there is between you two. He has never felt that before. It’s moments like this that make Jungkook feel incredibly fortunate to have you in his life.

“Aren’t tattoo artists usually against getting other people’s names tattooed?” you tease with a smirk and a raised brow.

Jungkook shrugs with a smirk, his tongue playing with his lip rings, “I live by my own rules.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head, “Oh, what a rebel you are.”

Jungkook’s hands go to your sides and tickle you with a gentle pinch.

“Kook!” you laugh as you jolt further up his body.

“Kook!” he mocks in a high-pitched voice, imitating you before wrapping his arms around you and hugging you close.

You pout and make a soft ‘hmph’ sound so insanely cute that Jungkook can’t resist the smile spreading across his face; he laughs and then kisses your pouty lips and all over your face. You giggle and lightly tug his necklace with your finger, bringing his mouth to yours for a long, sweet kiss. When you break apart, Jungkook gives one final peck above your left breast.

“I was serious, you know,” he murmurs, voice low. He juts his chin lightly to where he last placed his lips.

“Haven’t you marked me enough?” you stretch out your neck and gesture at the hickey-covered skin.

“I wanna mark you every way I can, baby,” he smiles smugly.

One of your hands plays with the hair at the nape of his neck, and the other plays with the hoop in his ear. You avoid eye contact, keeping your eyes focused on the earring.

“Tattoos are forever, Kook,” you say sheepishly.

“You’re telling me,” Jungkook chuckles, tilting his head toward his right arm covered in a sleeve of tattoos. He turns his head to kiss your wrist and then cups your face with both hands, making you look at him, “Hey, you planning on going somewhere and not telling me?”

You shake your head, his big hands still holding it.

“Hmm, I’m a bit worried now; I need to hear you say it,” he squints his eyes, teasing.

“No, I’m not going anywhere,” you grin.

Jungkook mirrors your grin and nods, “Good,” he pulls your face closer and nudges his nose against yours, “Because I’m not either.”

He squishes your cheeks together in his hands, making your lips pucker out.

“It’s not easy to find someone this cute,” he coos, shaking your head.

You pull your head from his grasp and lightly slap his chest. His hands slide down to your ass and give it a firm squeeze, long fingers digging into the smooth flesh.

“Even harder to find someone equally as sexy,” he whispers in your ear, his teeth grazing lightly. His voice is so deep you feel it vibrate through his body against yours.

“Huh, it can’t be too hard, I found you,” you quip, poking his cheek.

Jungkook gives your ass a spank, and you gasp as he flips you both over, with you now under his hovering body.

“Why don’t I show you just how lucky we both are?” his tone dripping with seduction.

The tip of his nose trails down your neck as his lips ghost over your skin, down to the valley of your breasts. He stops to knead the soft mounds, surging forward to swirl his tongue over one of the hardened nubs before taking it into his mouth and sucking gently. He hums in satisfaction. He releases it, giving it a gentle bite, and switches to show the other the same attention.

Once pleased, he continues his trail past your stomach and stops at your pulsing heat. He nestles his head between your legs, his hands grip your thighs and spread you wide open, your already slick folds clench around nothing in anticipation.

Jungkook gives your clit a teasing lick before diving in without hesitation. You whimper when his mouth latches onto you, his wide tongue licking a slow, filthy stripe over your slit, your hands flying into his hair. He groans, his eyes rolling back as he tastes you, his tongue circling your clit and then flicking over it repeatedly before dragging down to press at your entrance. Your hand tightens in his hair as his tongue presses deep into your dripping hole.

“Fuck, Kook,” you whine, grinding harder as your thighs tighten around his head.

He exhales through his nose, eyes crinkling as he smiles into your pussy when you buck your hips against his face. The sequence of sucking, licking, and prodding with his lips and tongue has you both writhing in ecstasy. The wet, sloppy sounds of his lips and tongue working against you fill the room. The intimate night of passion continues until the moon gives way to the sun.

✧ ──── 》》 ──── ✧

Jungkook is pulled out of his memories when he sees the door of the main entrance to your building open. He watches you step out, and his heart nearly leaps out of his chest upon seeing you.

Your short, tight dress hugs your body in all the right places. Your tall, thin high heels complement your legs phenomenally. Your hair cascades down your figure, making you look like an angel. You look gorgeous.

The sight of you would bring any man to his knees. You must be dressed like that to go out for the night, so he must act now if he doesn’t want his drive here to be for nothing. He moves to get out of his car, but just as his hand touches the handle, he sees a man walk out right behind you, and Jungkook freezes.

Jungkook looks closely at the man’s face; he’s good-looking. He’s sure he recognizes him from your posts. He looks like one of the guys you’ve tagged in your pictures, the ones where he’s had his arm around you. The happy idiot. What was it... Taemin? Taejin? Taewoo?

Whoever he is, he extends his arm for you to link with yours, and you do. You’re about to step down the stairs when you stop and say something to the man. You have an anxious expression, but whatever you say to the man beside you only brings a fond smile to his face. He responds to you and leans down to kiss your cheek.

The cheek that Jungkook’s lips have been on more times than he can count.

And you light up as if he made everything better. You walk down the stairs, arm in arm with the man whom Jungkook worries has taken his place.

Once you step off the last step, you stop once more, unlink your arm, and pull out your phone. The light from the screen shines on your face; you tap your fingers on it for a few seconds before putting it back in your purse. You relink your arms with who Jungkook thinks is the luckiest guy in the world and set off down the street, heading to your destination.

Jungkook feels the wind being knocked out of him. He hadn’t even realized he had gotten out of his car. He stands far enough that you don’t notice him, but close enough to see you perfectly. To see how you were on the phone, the phone that Jungkok knows is full of his messages and calls. To see that you are still ignoring.

Tell me, tell me now, what can I do To make it up to you Won’t you tell me, please? Tell me, please

All the hope and determination Jungkook had when he left his house seemed to have disintegrated. He feels small, much like your figure becomes as you walk further away from him on the arm of another.

Jungkook stares at your back until he loses sight of you as you round the corner. He stands there feeling like he has just been slapped in the face for the second time tonight, but this one stings much more.

What else can he do?

Jungkook doesn’t know how to make it up to you, and at this point, he’s unsure if he’s fighting a losing battle. You seem to be doing just fine without him. It hurts to see you happy when he has been miserable without you.

He needs you to talk to him and to tell him what to do to win you back. Tell him what he has to do for him to hear your laugh, smell your scent, and touch your skin. He needs to have you back in his arms, on his lips—in his life.

He tilts his head back, eyes focused on the moon and how it mocks him, shining brightly while he is filled with darkness.

He stands there, disoriented; all he can do is let out a bitter laugh at the irony that he drove all the way here to watch you walk away from him, now and quite possibly forever.

With a sad smile, he is overwhelmed with questions, out of his mind. Why are you two ending? How can you? How can you two end?

All your memories together overflow out of his perforated heart. He puts his hand over his chest, trying to block them and keep them inside, but they escape through his fingers.

Jungkook had you by his side and took you for granted; now he is watching you be cherished by another man while he stands by like a stranger in the night.

He doesn’t want to be like this, he doesn’t. He hates this, really hates this.

He doesn’t believe it would hurt this much even if his heart stopped.

Answer your phone I’ve got to talk to you I’m out here in the cold Trying to get through to you, oh

Jungkook never envisioned that when he finally loved someone, he would be left alone and heartbroken, not because you decided to run off, not because you were undeserving, but because he pushed you away.

He took too long to walk through the flames and got burned. He dove off the deep end too late into a pool of emptiness and hit the bottom.

Jungkook stands in the street, the cold air biting at his cheeks, but he can’t find the strength to return to his car and drive home. He came here on a mission to talk to you face-to-face. He hopes that if he stands here long enough, you might walk back around that corner and come straight to him. He hopes you will answer his plea and do something to fix him. Hold him in your arms and tell him that everything will be okay and that the two of you will work together to mend what has been broken.

But you don’t, and Jungkook’s heart may be beyond repair at this rate.

Jungkook’s heart hurts so badly that it’s strange that he’s even alive.

He should have followed you, chased you blindly, even if you were trying to run away from him. He should have yelled at the top of his lungs that there’s a hole in his heart that can’t be filled, and he’s dying of pain.

How can he forget you? He doesn’t know how to do that.

Like the tattoo he inked on your hip, you are etched in him— an indelible impression on his heart.

You are the only person he wants, your hands to comfort him, your voice to soothe his heart.

He’ll have to settle for listening to your voice through the phone, even if it’s only your voicemail.

Jungkook digs into his pocket for his phone, unlocks it and with your name already on the screen, presses the call button and waits.

Answer your phone, answer your phone Answer your phone, answer your phone Answer your phone

But he doesn’t have to wait for long.

He’s immediately met with a voice, but not your sweet voice; instead, it’s an answering machine.

And now he has been slapped for the third time tonight, so hard that he stands there in the cold, gripping his phone so tightly that his knuckles might bleed. He releases a shaky breath as his eyes fill with tears and spill over before he knows it.

Jungkook is hit with the reality that you still refuse to talk to him. You have now blocked his number on your phone and blocked him out of your life.

“We are unable to reach the person you are calling at this time. Please try calling back later.”

↬ so how do we feel? hope he suffered enough for your liking. let me know what you think! muah! 💋

taglist: @bangtans-momma @celticcountrygal @annafarrr

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wintrbears · 2 months ago

Text

All is Fair | JJK

Summary: The Dragons, led by your brother, occupy the East side of the city while the Wolves occupy the West. There is only one rule, and technically, you didn't mean to break it. Stay away from the Wolves.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader, Namjoon x Seokjin (only by reference)

Genre: Biker Gang AU, Fuck Buddies to Lovers, Romeo and Juliet, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Smut, Fluff (if you close one eye and tilt your phone)

Word Count: 20.4k+

Warnings: minor character death, major character death (not jk or oc), murder, graphic suicidal ideation, dead bodies, depression, reference to drunk driving, orphans/orphaning, running away from home, stealing, beatings, punching, kicking, screaming, crying, nightmares, night terrors, stitches, punctured lungs, major physical injuries, facial scars, hospitals, piercings, tattoos, graduate school, libraries, studying, blood, guns/gunshot, knives, gang violence, motorcycles, gay men(?), rivalries, drinking, pet names (baby, pretty, bug (non-romantic)). SMUT: kissing, fingering, oral sex (both receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (she's on bc), cream pie, coming on skin, cum eating/feeding, choking, spanking, spitting, dick riding, missionary, doggy, big dick!jk bc I always strive for accuracy, masturbation (m), grief sex, semi-public sex, ok that's all folks lmk if I missed any.

Author’s Note: I actually cannot believe I didn't write for two years and then pumped out almost 40k words in a single week. My fiancé misses me, you guys. But anyway this fic... oh this fic. It's very heavy but my entire heart is buried in this so I really hope you take the time to read it. Every single character (member?) means so much to me and I hope you come to love it as much as I do. P.S. for plot reasons JK doesn't have any hand tattoos you'll see what I mean. OK pls lmk what you think it makes my heart so happy bye love you :)

When you inevitably fail your exam, no one will be to blame except your brother and his delinquent friends. The noise-canceling headphones he gifted you last Christmas are doing fuck all against the pounding bass of their music downstairs. They’re the expensive kind, too. You know because they still had the security tag on them Christmas morning. He broke it off with pliers before handing them back to you with a dimpled smile.

Finally having enough, you stomp down the stairs to confront your irritability at the source. Not many of them are home tonight. Just Namjoon and his three closest underlings: Seokjin, Yoongi, and Hoseok. He’s the youngest among them and somehow still wound up the leader.

The Dragons, your brother’s notorious motorcycle gang, are far greater in number than the four downstairs. Ten bikers live here at the house with you, but when the gang rides in total there’s about twenty five men. There are some drifters, but no matter the number they are a force to be reckoned with on the road.

“Hey,” you yell over the music.

Namjoon gestures for Hoseok to turn it down and ushers you forward with a wave of his hand.

“What’s up, bug?”

“Can you please keep it down? I’m trying to study,” you answer.

“Oh, we’re sorry,” Seokjin responds. “You were so quiet we forgot you were up there. You’re usually down here annoying us.”

You roll your eyes. The four of them have been friends for the better part of a decade. They’re the only gang members allowed to tease you. If someone else tries it, Namjoon takes their head.

Your brother is extremely protective of you without being controlling. You appreciate his ability to recognize your adulthood while still wanting to keep you from harm. You can attest without a shadow of a doubt that Namjoon will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. His determination to protect you is how you wound up with the Dragons in the first place.

“Why don’t you go over to your study buddy’s house?” Hoseok suggests.

Right… your study buddy they still believe is a woman. The study buddy they assume helps you study instead of fucking you dumb.

“We don’t study at her house. We study at the library.”

This is a partial lie. You “study” at the library, in his car, in the school janitorial closet, and anywhere else he can get his hands on you. Ironically, your grades have never been better. Call it a lack of stress.

“We’ll keep it down, bug,” Namjoon assures you. “Sorry.”

Once you communicate your appreciation, you travel upstairs again to continue studying. You hear the music turn back on, but this time at a much lower volume.

Phone lighting up on your desk, you lean over to see a familiar name. Jungkook’s ears must’ve been ringing because there’s a photo of his finished study guide on your screen. You reply to his text complaining that you’re not even halfway done yet before turning your phone over so you can actually focus.

You didn’t predict meeting someone like Jungkook this year, or ever, really. When this semester of your Master’s program began you weren’t looking for anything, especially not a fuck buddy. You only ask Jungkook to be your study buddy in the first place because he’s the smartest person in your class by a long shot. Coincidentally, you only spend the early months of the semester as study buddies before advancing to fuck buddies. Sometimes you still actually study together, but it’s few and far between.

Despite Jungkook thoroughly wrecking your body every time he touches it, he’s probably the nicest guy you’ve ever met. No matter the hour he’ll answer questions about assignments or explain complex topics you can’t wrap your head around. He lends pencils to strangers and one time you swear you saw him saving a cat from a tree.

You still remember the first time you laid eyes on him.

It’s brutally hot for the first day of class. The city is scorching with record-breaking temperatures even in September. The vents are located at the back of the large classroom so you find an empty desk in the back corner to occupy.

You’re preparing for the first lecture by placing your essentials on the desk and plugging in the charger for your laptop. Distracting yourself with color-coordinating your highlighters, you miss most people entering the room.

Someone upstairs is looking out for you, though, because when you glance at the entrance it’s at the exact moment an absolute Adonis is walking in. He has wavy black hair that just kisses his cheekbones but is longer in the back, huge starry brown eyes, a button nose, and pretty pink lips accompanied by a tiny mole just under the bottom one. He’s wearing a long-sleeve white shirt, baggy jeans, and big black combat boots. To make matters worse he’s sporting black half-rim glasses.

You quickly realize your mistake in gawking at him because he makes eye contact with you, thus giving him permission to take the seat next to you. Precisely as the unspoken rules of classroom etiquette dictate.

He greets you with an amicable bow before plopping in the chair that shares your desk space. Using your peripheral vision you watch him lay out his supplies and open his laptop.

You’re wearing a crop top and are still too warm, so you’re downright shocked at his outfit choice. He doesn’t even roll his sleeves up.

“Are you hot?”

The words are leaving your mouth before you can stop them.

Your companion looks at you, eyes wide, questioning whether you’re talking to him or not. When he realizes you are, he glances down at his attire. Then he chuckles.

“That’s a bit forward, don’t ya think?”

If you could crawl into a hole and die, you would.

“I didn’t mean it like —”

He’s cutting you off with a wave of his hand as he laughs off the miscommunication. There’s an awkward silence before he continues the conversation.

“To answer your question, yes I am,” he says. “Not like that, though.” He winks at you and it takes everything in you not to audibly moan.

Despite him admitting to being warm he does nothing to remedy it. You’re not his mother nor his girlfriend so you don’t question him.

That’s the last time you speak that day, but over the course of a few weeks you partake in small talk and learn each other’s names.

You initially ask him to study together the week prior to your first exam. He enthusiastically agrees and you settle on a time before exchanging numbers. The study sessions continue on a weekly basis even once you take the exam.

The night your relationship shifts into uncharted territory is one you’ll never forget.

Jungkook is sitting beside you as he copies notes from a PowerPoint lecture into his notebook. The sound of his pencil scribbling on the paper is familiar now. You're absentmindedly scrolling through last week’s readings to find your previous highlights. The professor surprised you today by announcing there would be a quiz on the article and now you need to re-familiarize yourself with it.

Leaning back in the chair with a huff, you cross your arms over your chest. Jungkook peeks at you from behind his hair. He chuckles before setting his pencil down.

“What’s wrong?”

“Don’t wanna do this anymore,” you pout. Jungkook coos at you sarcastically and you hit his arm with your shirt sleeve in protest. “Shut up, nerd.”

“What do you wanna do instead, huh?”

You eye him from your position until you find an answer. Rather than verbally replying you lean forward and gently steal the glasses from his face. You slip them on and glance around the library to see if you can tell the difference.

“Damn you are — oh.”

Any semblance of thought dies within you the second you look at him again. Like an actual comic book character, removing his glasses magically gives him a Clark Kent to Superman-esque makeover. He’s sitting taller with his shoulders back, his doe eyes are sharp and dark, and instead of his normal dorky smile he’s smirking at you. You actually look around again to see if he stood up and someone took his place.

To be frank, you aren’t entirely sure what happens next. One moment you’re at the table together and the next you’re in the Historical Fiction section and Jungkook is on his knees pushing your skirt up and pulling your panties down so he can make out with your cunt.

The worst part is that amongst the chaos, you’re still wearing his fucking glasses. In fact they rest on your nose through the whole ordeal, all the way until you’re coming on his tongue with a cry of his name. He doesn’t take them back until he’s rising to face you and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Thus begins your first ever situationship, although that doesn’t seem entirely correct. You and Jungkook aren’t in that weird headspace where neither of you know what the other wants. You mutually agree it’s just sex until someone decides to either move on or move up to boyfriend and girlfriend status.

The latter option is definitely tempting. Jungkook treats you well and fucks you even better. Which are pretty much the only two prerequisites you have for a relationship. But your current dependence on the Dragons prevents you from choosing that route.

There’s a knock on your door which pulls you from your reverie. Namjoon’s face peaks around the corner.

“We’re heading out to deal with some Wolves. Be back soon,” he informs you.

“Be safe,” you reply.

He assures you that he will before shutting your door. Anxiety flickers awake in your stomach and travels through your nervous system. Of all the gang activity that surrounds you, this is the shit you hate the most. Stupid boys doing stupid boy things.

The Dragons occupy all the territory East of the large river which slices your city in half. The territory on the West side of the river is owned by the Wolves. There are straggler factions and out-of-towners who sometimes come into the fold, but they’re nowhere near the size of the two gangs. Naturally, the Dragons and the Wolves despise one another and their history dates back long before Namjoon became the leader. He inherited the rivalry amongst many other responsibilities and now he perpetuates it without knowing why it exists in the first place.

You already know when you see Namjoon tomorrow he’ll have split knuckles and bruises on his skin. It makes you sick to your stomach. This life is far beneath what your brother deserves and what he’s capable of. You want so much more for him and for yourself as well. Getting your Master’s degree is the first step in liberating you both from all the violence and decay which surrounds you. Namjoon risked everything to save you as children, and you vow to return the favor one day, even if it kills you.

Contrary to popular belief, you don’t fail your exam the next day. In fact, you leave the classroom with a spring in your step now that your stressor is behind you.

Jungkook watches you ahead of him with a twinkle of admiration in his eyes as you skip towards the parking lot.

“You know, we’ve been doing this for a while now and I’ve never even been to your place,” you say.

“My place…” Jungkook clicks his tongue. “I don’t think you’ll like it very much.”

“Why not?” You stop short and cause Jungkook to barrel into you. “Hold on, you don’t have a girlfriend, do you? Or wait, do you still live with your mom or something?”

“No, mom’s gone,” he answers.

You turn around to face him when you hear his response. He’s saying it nonchalantly but his eyes are swimming with sadness and maybe even guilt.

“Jungkook, I’m so sorry,” you reply. He shakes his head, waving your condolences away before reaching out to pick a fallen leaf from your hair.

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago,” he adds. “And no, no girlfriend. Only you, pretty.”

“So then…” You rock back on your heels. “Can I see your place? I promise I’m not judgmental like that. I mean, there’s a reason you’ve never been to my place, either.”

Jungkook thinks it over for a moment as he drags you by the hand towards his car.

“Not yet,” he finally answers. “Soon, hopefully.”

You accept his response albeit a little disappointedly. It’s not even about you getting into his business like that, you’re just sick of the tight spaces the two of you are forced to hook up in. You’ve never even seen the guy fully naked before because you’re always pulling your clothes aside just enough to get the job done.

He denies it but you know he’s got abs under there and you’re dying to finally get your mouth on them.

Sure, you complain, but when he opens his car door for you to climb into his backseat you’re doing so without another word.

You don’t fuck right away because the parking lot is still packed and you’re not trying to catch a charge. Namjoon would kill you before you even get the chance to stand before a judge.

Instead, Jungkook shows you his newest Pokémon game on his Switch and hands it over to you so you can play. You giggle as your adorable water type does its victory dance after demolishing your opponent. Jungkook watches over your shoulder and directs you when to block and which attacks to use. Somehow, it all feels more intimate than when his cock is in your mouth.

Which is precisely where you two end up about an hour later when the surrounding cars have all left.

Jungkook’s backseat isn’t big enough for you to kneel on the floorboards so he’s lounging across the seats with you kneeling between his legs. You honestly prefer this position because the leather is far more forgiving to your knees than the carpet. His pants and boxers are around his thighs as you bob your head up and down his beautifully large and veiny cock.

Your man is a head pusher through and through and so you welcome the familiar feeling of his fingers against your scalp as he guides you deeper until your nose is brushing his pelvis. He doesn’t force you down around him or fuck his hips into you. The grasp on your hair is moreso for control and because he loves to feel you while you pleasure him.

You gag when his tip touches the back of your throat and you stay there for a moment, letting him feel you swallow around him before returning to his tip and swirling your tongue around it. Keeping your tongue out so it caresses the underside while you move up and down, you continue your movements at a steady pace.

Jungkook groans, his head hitting the window with a dull thud.

“Oh, pretty, you have no idea the things you do to me,” he praises. He uses his grip on you to make you look at him. You moan around his cock when your eyes meet and he yanks on your hair in appreciation. “S’fucking good.”

This man loves a good blowjob and you love to please him. Every time you’re on your knees for him he praises and worships you and your sweet mouth for the euphoria they bring him. He tastes delicious on your tongue and if not for your human need to inhale, you would go all night.

It only takes a couple more messy slides of your tongue down his shaft and your hand playing with his balls before he’s coming down your throat in thick, hot spurts of white. You swallow every last drop, continuing to move your mouth from his head to the base, before finally coming up for some much needed air.

Sitting back on your heels, you place your hands in the space between your knees and bat your eyelashes at him. You know he likes it when you look all innocent despite the nasty things you do together. If things were different, if you were able to be with him in the confines of a bedroom and savor your time together, you’d put on a pretty white set with bows all over just to drive him crazy.

Jungkook clocks your behavior with a tilt of his head, his tongue pushing against his cheek before he yanks you back and flips you over so your ass is facing him. His hand slowly traverses your back before stopping between your shoulder blades to push your face into the leather. You arch your back for him and wiggle your ass to really get him going. You can’t see him anymore but you hear the fond, deep chuckle. He pulls down your tights and panties in one go before flipping your skirt up so he can see you properly.

He grabs your ass in his big hands and pulls your cheeks apart to spit on your hole. Your eyes roll back at the feeling of it dripping down your folds. Hips pushing back against his hands, Jungkook just laughs at your neediness before slapping your ass.

“Oh fuck,” you curse.

He tsks at you disapprovingly.

“You that cock drunk, pretty? I haven’t even touched you yet,” he says.

“I know,” you say through gritted teeth.

He bends down to lay across your back and bites on your earlobe before soothing it with his tongue.

“C’mon, baby. You know I always take care of you.”

He doesn’t allow you to reply before he’s thrusting his cock in and nudging his head against your cervix. Your hands clutch desperately at his seats, fingernails making indentations in the leather, as he rears back before doing it all over again. This man makes you fucking delirious and you wonder if you’ll ever get enough. Lord knows no other man will ever successfully replicate the pleasure he provides you.

Jungkook’s pace is relentless and steadfast and it isn’t long before the friction of his cock sinking in and out of your walls brings you to a climax. He’s an overachiever, though, and he doesn’t let up even as he feels your pussy pulsating around him as you come. He soldiers on, tilting your hips to make you arch even further and send his cock deeper inside you. You feel him in your stomach and it has you drooling where your face is crushed against the seat.

You pathetically moan out a sound that closely resembles his name as he abuses your hole.

Your next orgasm hits you much faster, riding the wave of your first to bring stars to your eyes yet again. Your cunt squeezes Jungkook impossibly tight when you come and it causes him to shoot his load inside you and stuff you full of him. This man’s cock is too good to ever be obstructed by a plastic barrier. You’re on birth control and neither of you sleep with anyone but each other, so raw it is.

When you exit the car to move to the front seat, the stars have appeared in the sky. Jungkook drives you home, or what he believes is your home, and bids you goodnight. Once his car is out of sight, you pivot and walk the familiar route to your actual house.

It’s normal for you to arrive home this late, even before you met Jungkook. Namjoon never questions where you’ve been or you were with, which you appreciate. He understands you need independence and will contact him if you’re ever in trouble. He doesn’t need to study your every move when he only has one rule for you, anyway: stay away from the Wolves.

The next day you're lounging in the living room with your ankles crossed where they rest over the arm of a chair. You’re reading for a different class than the one you share with Jungkook, trying to get the assignment done now so you can enjoy your night.

Your peace and quiet is disturbed when Namjoon walks in looking supremely pissed off. His jaw is clenched and since his hair is pushed back you can see the veins popping out in his forehead.

“Joonie?” You call for him as you sit up. “What’s going on?”

“Fucking Wolves,” he growls. He paces back and forth a couple times before stopping in front of you. “We’re meeting at the river tonight. You need to come.”

“Why?”

“Because word on the street is they’re going to use the meet-up as a distraction to raid the house,” he answers. “I need you with me so I know you’re safe.”

“Wouldn’t it make more sense to call off the meet-up?” You argue.

“No. I want them to come. So I can rip them to fucking shreds and send those assholes a message,” he explains.

You have no reason or room to question him, so you head upstairs to change. Whenever you’re going to be in the presence of gang members, whether Dragons or Wolves, Namjoon prefers you dress a bit tougher than your normal girly outfits. He knows these men and the way they think, so anything, no matter how small, to show them you mean business is a good thing.

Throwing on cargo pants, combat boots, and a leather jacket over your t-shirt, you use the darker half of your eyeshadow palette and put your hair up. All for show.

You’re exiting the house as the sun sinks behind the clouds. Namjoon hands you the extra helmet before swinging his leg over his bike. He watches you put it on and adjust the strap before he slaps your eye shield down with a laugh. You shove his arm before swinging your leg over and joining him on the motorcycle.

The familiar thunderous sound of the Dragon’s motorcycles coming to life is deafening even through the helmet. It’s about fifteen bikes in total and the remaining gang members will guard the house and catch any Wolves trying to break in.

Seokjin, Yoongi, and Hoseok are directly behind you and Namjoon. One by one they signal to your brother they’re ready to go. You adjust your placement by scooting closer to your brother’s warmth and wrapping your arms around his middle. Your fingers twist around the zipper of his open leather jacket to hold onto him. The engine roars to life and you feel the bike kick beneath you as it rears to go.

“Good?” He asks.

“Ready as ever,” you confirm.

Kicking up the stand with his heel, he signals with his hand before leading the bikers away from the house and onto the dark pavement of the road. The wind sweeps over your bodies in waves as Namjoon speeds down the backstreets leading into the city.

You don’t ride much anymore, but whenever you do it’s always exhilarating. The heat of the bike beneath your legs, your brother’s comforting presence in front of you, and the air wiping around you as it nips at your clothes. Tipping to the right along with Namjoon as he takes a tight corner, you watch as the city grows closer. The monumental buildings and yellow lights along the river make it look beautiful and more peaceful than you know it is.

When you reach the river, the Wolves are already there waiting. The rival gang members lounge on their parked motorcycles as they speak to one another. It can’t be all of them, since you know their numbers closely rival your own, and there aren't more than twelve here. It pisses you off when you realize they really are planning to raid the house tonight. If you find out a Wolf was in your room there will be hell to pay.

Namjoon kills the engine and removes his helmet, shaking his dark hair from his eyes. You follow suit and step off the bike as he pushes the stand back down. Your brother shoots you a look you already know means “stay close to me.”

The agreed upon location is just outside an abandoned warehouse where everything in sight is slowly deteriorating. The road has gigantic potholes and cracks and if you go close enough to the water some of the gravel has already caved in and is eroding. The two gangs congregate near the water’s edge where it laps against the shore and sprays water onto the road.

When the dust settles, Namjoon stands ahead of his gang where he is toe-to-toe with the Wolves’ leader, Bangchan. You move quietly through the rows of Dragons until you’re off to the left, farthest from the water. The position hides you enough to avoid unwanted attention but is still close enough to Namjoon in case of an emergency. Seokjin, Yoongi, and Hoseok stand at the back and sides, respectively, creating an invisible wall of your brother’s closest allies.

Your eyes maneuver over the crowd of Wolves one at a time. Without their leather biker jackets which bear the insignia of each group, it would be impossible to tell them apart. They’re just a bunch of boys pretending to be men.

None of them particularly stand out to you except —

Head whipping back for a double take, the movement is so quick your ponytail snaps harshly against your skin. Your eyes slowly open wide, your mouth dropping open just enough for a sharp intake of air. Because amongst the crowd of Wolves, off to the left next to a shorter blonde guy is…

There’s no way.

He certainly looks like Jungkook. His hair is falling down in soft waves just like Jungkook’s does and his unmistakable doe eyes are front and center without his glasses on. But this guy has a lip piercing and eyebrow piercing. His ears are decorated with pretty silver hoops and a dangling chain. The doppelganger is wearing a navy blue cut off, which reveals to your eyes that his entire arm, from wrist to shoulder, is covered in tattoos. Dark, colorful, intricate tattoos that look like they took years to build into the sleeve it is now. This can’t be the reason Jungkook only ever wears long sleeves and weirdly refuses to ever roll them up… can it?

You squint to make sure you’re seeing him correctly in the dim light. Jungkook must have a twin he never told you about, right?

But no, that isn’t the answer, because his eyes land on you and widen dramatically. His mouth drops open before it snaps shut and his jaw clenches. From across the concrete where you stand you can see how his entire body is taut with tension.

What. The. Fuck.

The blonde guy next to him notices the change in the air, nudging him with his elbow. Jungkook shoots him a hard glance before returning his gaze to you.

Part of you wants to cry, and part of you wants to scream. All of you wants to run to him and demand an answer. This guy is a straight A graduate student. What the hell is he doing running around with a bunch of delinquent motorcycle gang members?

The sound of your brother’s voice steals your attention away.

“That’s not what we do here,” he says to Chan. You’re unsure what it’s in response to.

“Hmm,” the man opposite him muses. “No I guess not, but you bring your girl around? That’s a little dangerous, don’t you think?”

Namjoon’s jaw ticks and his teeth grind together at the mention of you, but he hides it well. You only notice the movement because you know what every tick and twitch of his means.

“Not my girl,” he corrects.

“Oh that’s right, I heard you have a baby sister,” he replies. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” Your eyebrows lift when he calls out to you, but you know better.

“Don’t speak to her,” Namjoon responds in your stead.

When you glance at Jungkook again he looks irrevocably angry, a deep frown messing with his pretty features. His fellow Wolf seems concerned at his mysterious attitude.

Right now, you’re telepathically begging Jungkook to make eye contact again. To offer some explanation even with just his eyes. Sure, you don’t know much about each other’s lives outside of school but the feeling of betrayal slinks under your skin nonetheless. Mostly because of the fucking tattoo sleeve he’s been hiding from you.

His eyes do eventually meet yours, but his expression is cold. Is he upset at you for keeping this part of your life from him, too?

The low grumble of taunts and heckles from both gangs indicates their playtime is over. When you look across the street, Jungkook is already climbing on his bike and putting on his helmet. You know without uncertainty now that it is in fact Jungkook, since a large purple “JK” emblem is painted onto his helmet.

Namjoon is quick to gesture you over to him. Your eyes meet Bangchan’s as you walk to the bike, and it disgusts you how he drinks you up and undresses you with his eyes when you pass by.

You scoff before getting back into position behind your brother and securing your helmet in place.

Jungkook is fucking reeling. He barely waits for the rest of his gang to peel away on their bikes before he’s taking off down the street. Jimin follows close behind him, the older biker probably still wondering what the fuck is going on.

Rides are normally Jungkook’s way of clearing his head, but tonight all he can think and feel is his blood pumping with adrenaline. You are the last person he ever expected to be involved with a gang. It’s almost enough to make him laugh; all you wear are sexy little skirts and shirts with cartoon characters on them. You’re girly and adorable and should be spending your time at the mall, not in the underbelly of this messed up city. Although, if your involvement begins and ends with your brother, he imagines you don’t have much choice.

Jungkook makes it back to the house in record time, leaving everyone else in the dust. He is quick to cut the engine of his bike and toss his helmet aside so he can get inside. His hands run through his hair over and over as he trudges into the house, pulling at the ends as he grits his teeth.

The door slams shut behind him and he yells into the air with his head thrown back. Taehyung is rounding the corner from the kitchen when he hears it. He should be at the Dragon’s Lair right now ransacking the place, but Chan called it off when he found out the Dragons knew what they were planning.

“Uh, you good?”

“No,” Jungkook sneers. “No, I’m not fucking good, Tae.”

Taehyung is about to probe him with more questions when Jimin flies through the door.

“What the fuck was that, kid?” Jimin sets his helmet down on the table and walks over.

“You guys remember the girl I was telling you about?” He asks. They both nod. “Yeah, well. She’s the leader of the Dragons fucking little sister.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Holy shit.”

“Jungkook, what the fuck are you doing sticking your dick in someone involved with the Dragons?” Taehyung accuses.

“I didn’t know, Tae! I didn’t know until I saw her at the meet-up tonight,” Jungkook explains.

“And she saw you?” Jimin asks.

“Oh yeah,” Jungkook laughs incredulously. “She looked shocked as hell and like she was about to cry.”

Taehyung and Jimin share a look while Jungkook practically rips his hair out from how much he’s combing his fingers through it.

“You know you… can’t see her anymore, right?” Jimin poses the question cautiously. “If Kim Namjoon ever found out you’ve laid a finger on her he will fucking end you.”

“I know,” Jungkook grunts out. “I fucking know, Jimin.” Jungkook paces the room a couple times. “Fuck!” He slaps his hands against his face before groaning into them.

“I mean, I know the pussy was good but it will be fine, right? It’s not like you were dating her,” Taehyung adds.

Jungkook just glares at him from between his fingers. He doesn’t think he can talk about this anymore without losing his goddamn mind. He tells them goodnight without any further explanation before trudging down the stairs.

He slams his door and chucks his leather jacket on a chair once he’s in the confines of his bedroom. He wants to scream again, but he doesn’t, tries to take deep breaths instead. The air feels thick and his shirt is suddenly too tight.

His head is pounding with a headache that just sounds like you, you, you.

The same you who is always on his mind, day or night. The girl he never rushes when you study together because he likes to watch the gears turn in your pretty little head. The girl he admires from his periphery as you doodle in your notebook. You, who he wants to kiss more than anything but he doesn’t because he’s terrified of scaring you away.

Jungkook falls to his bed and covers his face with his hands. He’s in pure, unadulterated agony. His knuckles press into his eyelids as he groans. Lately, he’s been picturing so much for you and him. He daydreams about holding your hand and taking you out on dates and making love to you in his bed. It feels like there’s so much potential now shot in the face and gone in an instant.

He knows he can’t continue on with you. It would be dangerous and reckless. Yet he wants to, he wants to so badly he can feel the need in his bones.

He punches his pillow once, twice, and then sits up. He shakes his head as if that could dispel his thoughts of you. No, nothing will ever bring him to forget your brilliant smile, your sparkling eyes, your soft skin. Or the way you moan, whimper, and cry when he’s making you come and fucking you nice and deep. Jungkook doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to fuck someone who isn’t you again. No, you’ve completely and utterly ruined his body and mind.

“God fucking dammit, Y/N,” he groans into his hands.

He rips his shirt off over his head before falling back again. His chest is hot with anxiety and his nerves crackle with fear of the unknown. His heartbeat is thumping like a beast in a cage.

Jungkook decides to let his frustration out in the best way he knows how. He kicks his pants off and pulls his boxers down, spitting into his hand to lube himself. A sigh of relief breaks from his chest as soon as he feels his hand around his cock.

He’s not hard yet, not even close. But it’s stupidly easy how fast he gets his blood rushing down to his cock by merely thinking of you. The memory of your voice alone is enough to make him throb.

You looked so gorgeous tonight he thought he was going to totally lose it when he first saw you. The smokey makeup and ponytail were a first for him. He loves the way you look normally, but your sultry eyes and grungy outfit made him want to do nasty fucking things to you. If he could've, he would've bent you over his bike and took you right there in front of everyone. Your goddamn brother included.

His hand falls into a familiar rhythm as he strokes himself. He grunts when his thumb presses down on his head and swipes his precum across it. The rough skin of his hand is nothing compared to your mouth or pussy, but it’s enough to satiate him for now.

“Oh, pretty,” he moans into the air.

His mind conjures images of you for his pleasure. Just yesterday when you were on your knees for him and the other week when he fucked you against the rattling bookshelves of the library. Finally, the first time he ate you out and you cried his name into your hand to keep yourself quiet. You were wearing his glasses that night and he remembers thinking even then that you’d be the end of him.

“My baby.”

Jungkook is coming all over himself before he knows it. He grunts and pants as he fucks himself through his orgasm. Your name leaves his lips in a desperate huff as he finally lets go of his cock and wipes his hand on a nearby towel.

There’s two days before he’ll see you again in class. Jungkook has two days to decide whether or not he’s willing to go up against Dragon fire for you.

Your leg bounces anxiously beneath the desk as you wait for Jungkook to enter the classroom. It’s been two days since you found out he’s a Wolf and your mind has done nothing but spiral. You’re unsure how to feel or even what you have the right to feel.

Is it technically a betrayal when neither of you knew about one another? It’s not like you asked him if he happens to be affiliated with any gangs. You should’ve. You freaking should’ve because now it’s biting you in the ass.

When he does finally enter, he looks like the normal Jungkook again. No piercings. Tattoos covered. Sexy nerd glasses on. It pisses you off more than it should.

He doesn’t say anything to you as he takes his seat and you don’t dare to steal a glance at him. The two of you move in tension-thick silence before the professor starts the class.

It’s a grueling hour and a half as you refrain from looking over or touching him. Normally, he forces his leg up against yours until you finally give in and play footsie with him. If not that, you gently graze his arm up and down, absentmindedly, as the professor drones on about whatever topic he’s covering that day.

Class ends as your professor erases the chalkboard behind him. You stand abruptly and speed walk out of the room. If he doesn’t want to talk to you, then you won’t talk to him. It’s simple, and you pretend your heart isn’t shattering in your chest.

The call of your name stops you in your tracks. When you look back, Jungkook is jogging after you. When he reaches you, he stands at an awkwardly long distance away. Your eyebrows lift and you gesture with your hand for him to get on with it.

“Can we talk?”

You don’t reply, just turn on your heel and walk in the opposite direction. That is, the direction of the parking lot. He follows behind but leaves an obnoxious amount of space. It’s infuriating how his obvious respect for your boundaries gives you butterflies. He unlocks his car with a click and you aggressively plop down in the front seat. Making a show of crossing your arms over your chest and flipping your hair from your eyes.

Jungkook slides into the driver’s side with ease and turns on the heat before turning towards you. You look at him expectantly but he gestures for you to start.

“You’re in a gang,” you state matter-of-factly. “You have tattoos, an entire sleeve, I might add. You have piercings. You’re a fucking Wolf.”

Jungkook nods, licking his lip before he responds.

“That’s all true, yeah,” he says.

“What the fuck, Jungkook?” You finally face him. “You’re a graduate student with your entire life ahead of you. What are you doing running around with those losers?” You groan in frustration. “I mean, you’re like a delinquent Hannah Montana or some shit.”

Jungkook smiles at that. He does a once over of your face before inhaling.

“When my parents died I didn’t have anywhere to go. I was already 18. I grew up with Jimin and he offered me a place to stay at the Wolf’s Den. Rest is history,” he explains. You watch his eyes as he tells his story. “I didn’t plan on going to college. I barely passed high school, anyway. But my parents left me money and put instructions in their will that it was to go to my schooling. I couldn’t let it go to waste. Couldn’t let them down.”

Your hand is grabbing his before you register yourself doing it. Rolling up his shirtsleeve to his elbow, you finally reveal his tattoos before your own eyes. Your fingers trace the intricate details of the artwork. He grabs your wrist in return and you feel his hand shaking.

“How did they die?”

“Drunk driver,” he answers.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper. You pull his shirt back down and lace your fingers with his. “But I’m sure they’re very proud of you.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” he admits.

You take his face in your hand and force him to look at you.

“Jungkook, you're the top of our class. You can be anything you want to be or do anything you want to do.” you say. “If that’s not something to be proud of, I’m not sure what is.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s not leading anywhere after this,” he replies.

“Why not? Do you seriously want to be involved in this stuff forever? The violence and the rivalries and all the bullshit,” you ask as your voice raises.

“I’ve never known a life other than this, Y/N! The Wolves are my family. I don’t have anyone else,” he matches your volume.

You pull away from him with a huff. You’re not sure why you’re so determined to convince him to do something more with his life. But if you have to guess, you imagine it’s because you’re trying and failing to do so yourself.

“You have me,” you admit quietly into the air between you. It’s a weighted confession. A piece of your true feelings on display for him to see.

Jungkook’s hand cradles your jaw and he looks at you so adoringly that you want to shy away. His thumb is brushing back and forth across your cheekbone. It’s the most gentle affection he’s ever shown you.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “I have you.”

He’s kissing you before you even register it. You moan happily against his lips as they move delicately across your own. Jungkook usually handles you like wants to break you, but the way he kisses is the exact opposite. His mouth and his warmth are mending things he wasn’t the one to break. Your hands snake around his neck to pull him closer and he moans when your fingers thread through his hair.

It’s only your first kiss even after all the time you’ve spent together. It’s magical and romantic and you never want it to end.

Jungkook grabs you by the waist to pull you into his lap. Your back hits the steering wheel and the horn honks. You giggle into each other’s mouths but never once stop kissing. You’re both smiling and it causes your teeth to clash, but not even that stops you.

Jungkook deepens the kiss, his tongue tracing your bottom lip before slipping it into your mouth. It tangles with your own as he pulls on the hair trapped between his fingers.

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” he admits against your lips. “Your brother… he’ll kill me.”

“Then why are you?” You murmur before trailing kisses across his sharp jaw.

“Because I want you too bad to stay away,” he answers. “I want you all the time, baby.”

Your lips meet his again and the kiss grows desperate. Shifting in his lap to move closer, you run your hands up and down the planes of his chest.

“You have me, Jungkook. I’m yours,” you reveal.

He pulls back with a shake of his head.

“Not just like this. Not just sex. I want movie dates and sleepless nights. I want to hold your hand and take you out to dinner. I want all of you, Y/N.” He pushes your hair from your face. His eyes are brimming with adoration and melancholy. “But I don’t know how to do that when you are who you are.”

Your hands grip his shirt as your head falls against his chest. You release a shaky exhale as your mind shuffles through the millions of emotions in your head. It settles on sorrow. Jungkook holds you close to him, cradling you in his arms.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you confess. “I care about you so much.”

You feel Jungkook pressing a kiss to your hair and it makes you squeeze your eyes shut in pain. He’s everything you could ever want and yet nothing you can ever have.

“I care about you, too, pretty,” he whispers. “So, so much.”

“If this is the last time…” your voice trails off, but Jungkook understands.

He maneuvers you over him and works to move both your clothes out of the way. All while kissing you again and again anywhere he can reach. Your lips, cheeks, nose, jaw, chin. He’s trying to savor this and commit it to memory before it’s gone forever. Before you’re gone.

His fingers move along your slit, gathering your wetness before bringing it up to your clit. You moan into his mouth and buck your hips against his hand. He expertly massages your pussy in a way only he knows how until you’re wet enough to take him.

Jungkook stops kissing you momentarily so he can see what he’s doing when he lines himself up. His cock enters you slowly, but you can feel every ridge and curve of him as you sink down deeper into his lap. He kisses your neck as you begin to bounce on him. Your nails bite into his skin as you use his shoulders for leverage.

It doesn’t take long for you both to come, Jungkook’s seed warming you from the inside and bringing forth your own orgasm. The entire time you never once stop kissing, because you’re making up for lost time and saying goodbye all at once.

Except the goodbye never comes. There’s an attempt, and you go one time seeing each other without hooking up, but that’s the only time. The next time you’re in class together, almost the very second it ends, Jungkook is pushing you into an empty classroom. He kisses you until you can’t see straight, then eats you out and fucks you on the professor’s desk. After that, you both realize you’re too weak for each other to ever stay away.

Things go on like that for a while, a few months at most. You don’t talk about the massive elephant in the room when you’re together. Just touch and kiss each other to your heart's content like it isn’t the most dangerous game you’ll ever play.

The realization that Namjoon is aware of your entanglements comes after he suggests a ride together down to the bay, a familiar place you used to go as teenagers. You don’t question it because it’s been a while since you’ve spent some real time together and your brother is a bigger softie than anyone is allowed to know.

You ride along the shoreline together before he stops the bike in the middle of some abandoned buildings a few yards from the bay. Ships are docking for the night and some children play around the rocky shore with their parents close by.

“Aren’t we going over there?” You ask, pointing to the usual spot.

Namjoon shakes his head.

“Gotta show you something first,” he tells you.

Taking your hand, he leads you towards one of the buildings. You watch him quizzically as he pries open one of the rusted doors and holds it open for you. He stands back to allow you to take in the scene.

You don’t realize it’s him at first because his head is down. All you notice is two Dragon lackeys holding someone taut between them as they wait for instruction at the center of the room. But then he pushes against their restraints, grunting and tugging on their arms as hard as he can and you gasp in horror.

You’re running to him before you can think twice. Your hands instinctively reach out for his face, lifting it so you can see him properly. He already has a swollen black eye and a busted lip.

Your pupils shake as tears form in your eyes.

“Let him go,” you command.

Namjoon walks in slowly and takes his time examining the scene before him. Maybe this is a test to see if the rumor he heard was true. Clearly, you failed.

“Can’t do that, bug,” Namjoon says from behind you. “Wolves who touch what doesn’t belong to them pay the price.”

“It’s not like that, Joonie,” you snap. You push some of Jungkook’s hair away from his face. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing giving him air to breathe. You shake your head, hoping he can read your mind that is screaming I’m sorry.

“What’s it like then?” Namjoon crosses his arms across his chest.

“He’s in my graduate class. I didn’t even know he was a Wolf at first,” you say.

Namjoon steps forward so he’s next to you and tugs on your arms so you let go of Jungkook. You take a tentative step away, not recognizing the look in your brother’s eyes.

“Hmm, and when you found out… what did you do?”

“I…”

“When you found out the man you’d been sleeping with was a goddamn fucking Wolf, what did you do, Y/N?” He shouts.

He’s never spoken to you like this. Has never even raised his voice at you. You don’t have an answer for him. You can’t look him in the eye and admit you willingly betrayed him.

Namjoon sneers at your silence. He motions for the men to drop Jungkook and he falls to his knees with a grunt. Your body involuntarily steps towards him until Namjoon shoots you a murderous glare.

Jungkook looks up at the leader of the Dragons from where he kneels before him. You can’t see his expression, but you can tell from his body language he’s resigned to his fate.

Your brother throws a punch to Jungkook’s face and it connects with a crack. You can’t stop yourself from looking away and snapping your eyes shut. Jungkook spits out blood before Namjoon is forcing him by the jaw to look up at him again.

“You really thought you could get away with it, didn’t you?” Namjoon punches him in the same spot again and you bury your face in your hands.

Your brother is relentless in his assault. He just punches and punches until his knuckles split and Jungkook’s face is covered in blood and open wounds. You don’t look up. Your head is too heavy with the guilt to even attempt it.

You’re sobbing into your hands as you listen to the bone-crushing noise. It repeats and repeats like Satan’s broken record. You’re completely helpless to do anything but stand by in terror.

Namjoon lets go of where he’s holding him by his shirt and Jungkook immediately falls over, catching himself with his hands as he pants and tries to inhale through his busted nose and mouth.

Instantly, you’re on your knees in front of him, cradling his head to your chest as you try to wipe the blood with your shirt.

Jungkook groans into you, his hands weakly coming around your waist to hold onto you. You’re crying so hard you can barely see straight, but you force yourself to do anything you can to help him.

“Y/N,” Jungkook moans against your shirt and you bend your head to kiss his hair. “S’okay.” His words only bring forth more tears.

“No, it’s not,” you sob.

Namjoon pulls you away from him by your arm before nodding at the two men. The Dragons begin to kick and punch Jungkook in his ribs, chest, and stomach. It only takes a few hits before Jungkook’s weight gives out and he crashes to the floor. They continue relentlessly.

“No! No, please!” You turn towards your brother while still on your knees. The sound of Jungkook being beaten is piercing your eardrums and throwing off your equilibrium. “Please, Joonie, make them stop.” You grab onto your brother’s legs and sob against him. “Please, I’ll do anything. Just stop hurting him.”

Namjoon forces your head up. He looks so disgusted at your pathetic display of affection for someone he’s raised you to hate.

“Why should I?” His voice is pure venom.

“Because… because I love him, Namjoon,” you admit for the first time out loud.

Your brother’s eyes turn razor sharp. He gazes towards where his men are still having their fill with Jungkook’s battered body.

“Stop,” he orders them. The room goes eerily quiet. Your heart only continues beating because you can hear Jungkook wheezing out breath. He’s still alive. That’s all that matters. “I’ll stop if you swear to me you’ll never see or speak to him ever again.”

“I swear, Namjoon,” you reply without missing a beat.

“If you disobey me,” he threatens. “I won’t have a choice, do you understand?” You nod. “Say you understand, Y/N.”

“I understand,” you shout back.

He steps away from you and you collapse onto your hands. Grabbing you by the shoulder he yanks you up and orders his men to leave first. You don’t look back as he drags you from the warehouse and shuts the door behind him.

When you return home, you run upstairs to the safety of your bedroom. Cradling your phone in your shaky hands, you find the number Jungkook input for emergencies only. Namjoon deleted Jungkook’s contact from your phone as soon as you left the warehouse, but he doesn't know you have a different Wolf’s number, too.

The phone rings three times before someone answers.

“Hello?” You’ve never heard the voice on the other end before.

“Is this Jimin?”

“Who’s asking?” He sounds rightfully suspicious.

“Listen, I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear from right now, but you have to go to the warehouse district by the bay. Jungkook he’s… he’s hurt really bad, okay? He needs your help,” you explain through fresh tears. “Please, you have to help him.”

“Is this who I think it is?”

“Please, Jimin. He’s in the building with the blue door and green-tinted windows,” you tell him. “Hurry.”

You cut the line before he can ask you anything further. The only thing you can do is fall into your bed and wail as you pray his friends make it in time.

Jungkook can’t move from his spot on the cold concrete floor. He tries; tries using his hands to pull himself up but he just falls back with a thump. His breath is coming out of him in thin wheezes and every time he inhales he feels a sharp tug as his lungs. He knows he’ll die here if someone doesn’t find him, which is highly unlikely.

Despite his injuries causing every nerve ending in his body to sizzle and burn, all he can think about is you. Your sobs and pleas and how quiet your voice was when you admitted you love him. It’s pathetic how undeniably happy he was in that moment even as his lungs were caving in and his ribs were splintering.

You love him enough to let him go. Jungkook doesn’t know if he himself is that strong. If in your place he would be able to swear the same way you did. He hopes so, that somehow a piece of your virtue has rubbed off on him through your time together.

He hears the door creak open and his first thought is that Namjoon sent his goons back to finish the job. But then he’s being lifted from the floor and familiar voices filter in through his waning consciousness.

“Fuck, kid,” Taehyung curses as he rolls Jungkook over to examine his injuries. “What did you get yourself into?”

Jungkook grasps at his side as the pain splinters across his back and chest. The pain is scalding and it radiates across his entire body in waves that threaten to pull him under.

“Is he breathing?” Jimin’s voice rings out.

“Yeah. His eyes aren’t open, though. Don’t know if he even can with how bad his face is,” Taehyung explains to his companion.

Jimin curses when he sees his younger friend’s condition. He has to look away for a moment, unable to tolerate seeing his little brother like this.

“I’ll fucking kill those bastards,” he grits his teeth, sneering.

“No, you won’t,” Taehyung sighs. “This is penance. Jungkook is lucky he’s alive right now.”

The two men end their conversation to help Jungkook up from the floor. It isn’t easy. There’s blood everywhere and Jungkook screams in agony as they jostle his broken body around to carry him. He’s heavier than both of them combined and if it weren’t for Taehyung’s recent time spent at the gym, it would be physically impossible.

Taehyung ends up carrying him back to back, with Jungkook lying as flat as possible while Taehyung takes slow, heavy steps towards the door. Jimin carries his feet gently behind them since their similar heights leave the bottom half of Jungkook’s legs dragging on the floor.

Somehow, they make it out and get him into the backseat of the car where they’ve laid towels and sheets down to soak up the blood. Jungkook groans endlessly as the car flies through the city streets towards the hospital.

His friends know he has an emergency fund set up by his parents they can use to pay for his admission. If he didn’t, his fate would be up to whatever member of their gang has the most medical experience.

Jungkook spends the next two weeks in the hospital. By the time he’s discharged he still can’t open his left eye, has more than 100 stitches, and is wrapped up like a mummy to help his bones and muscles heal. His ribs punctured his lungs so he’s on medication to insure he can breathe properly. He’ll be sequestered to his bed per doctor’s orders for at least two months. Luckily, the semester just ended, so he won’t miss any classes while he’s recovering.

His gang members take care of him and help him in any way they can, but they can only assist with his physical injuries. There’s nothing anyone can do about his broken heart.

He lies in bed day and night, just staring at his ceiling as he daydreams about you being here to care for him. Your warm hands brushing his hair out of his face and your lips pressing a peck to his cheek. Jungkook swears he can hear you giggling as you tell him he “still looks handsome, even like this.”

Jungkook knows in his bones that you were a mistake. He should’ve cut things off when he had the chance after he found out who you are. And yet, he can’t bring himself to think of you as such. It’s impossible for him to regret even a single moment of the time he spent with you.

Every minute he’s awake he wonders what you’re doing and if you’re alright. Are you enjoying your time off from school? What activities and hobbies do you enjoy when you’re alone? Are you missing him the way he’s missing you?

It’s ironic, but he also hopes you aren’t still angry with your brother. Being a leader means doing what you have to do and Jungkook hopes you can forgive him. He knows how much Namjoon means to you and he can’t live with himself knowing he’s the thing that’s driving a wedge between you.

When he’s asleep, he dreams of you, and there are varying types of them. There are beautiful, soft, soothing dreams where he just gets to hold you and listen to your voice talk about nothing at all. Ones where he gets to confess that he loves you, too, and that he wants to be with you more than anything in the world. Then there’s the sexy, unbridled, wet dreams that have him gasping and sweating when he wakes up. He dreams of you on top of him as you whisper how much you need him into his ear. There’s another where he’s pounding you into his mattress as he kisses your neck, shoulders, and tits. He doesn’t even know what your actual breasts look like; he never got the chance to see you like that. One night his mind combines both the hard and soft and he dreams up an entire day spent with you. Where he takes you out for dinner and a movie, then brings you back to his place to worship your body, falls asleep with you on his chest, and then wakes up to do it all over again. Jungkook wonders if he should just sleep all the time so he can be with you.

His reality without you is bleak, grave, and dark. There’s no light in his world anymore and he doesn’t know how long he can go without seeing you or hearing your voice.

Jungkook makes a full recovery before the next semester starts. Luckily, he doesn’t have too many scars on his face anymore from the incident. When he looks in the mirror, it finally looks like him staring back again.

On the first day of classes Jungkook prays you’re in the same one again, but he doesn’t see you anywhere. His eyes constantly scan the hallways and classrooms for any sign of you, but to no avail. It’s killing him not knowing where you are.

He spends his days anxiously bouncing his knee below the desk as he attempts to listen to his professors. Sometimes, he’ll see a glimmer of someone who could be you, only to find out it’s not, and fall back into his usual disappointment.

By the time he does see you again, six months have passed. He wishes the reunion had been happy, or that it was even a reunion at all. Instead it’s just him, standing at the entrance of the building as he watches you race in the opposite direction before hopping into a car with a Dragon.

When he gets home he enters with his head down. After getting his first glimpse of you in six months, he isn’t ready to converse with anyone from his gang.

But he doesn’t get the chance to head downstairs right away.

His gang is congregated in the living room. There’s an intense tension in the air Jungkook doesn’t know how to name. He steps into the room and it feels like the air gets sucked out of it. As if everyone is suddenly statues in a graveyard. Jimin and Taehyung eye him carefully as he walks forwards towards their leader.

Bangchan is conversing intensely with some of his right hand men, but he turns towards Jungkook when he notices him approaching. Chan clears his throat and grabs the younger man’s shoulder, then he speaks a truth that has Jungkook’s heart sinking in his chest.

“Kim Namjoon is dead.”

You’re a zombie among the living and you have been for some time now. Ever since Jungkook was forcefully ripped from your life, you’re a shell of the woman you once were. The time off from school moves like honey dripping from a spoon as you spend every waking moment wondering how he’s doing. You don’t even know if he’s alive or not.

There’s a tsunami of relief that moves through you when you find out he’s alive and fully recovered. You only know because you hear some girls in the library talking about him once classes start back up. The jealousy from their whispers about him doesn’t have anywhere within you to take root. The soil of your heart is salted and rotting.

Every single day you fight the urge to go to him, but you refuse to risk his life again. The pain of missing him is incomprehensible. You feel it in your heart and lungs as they work overtime to soothe the ache of being apart. But none of it even comes close to the nightmares and memories of hearing his bones break and his breathing wane. Night terrors overtake you for months following the incident. Images of him bleeding and broken in a heap on the floor while you stand helpless to stop it.

You haven’t spoken a single word to Namjoon since that night. He tries, but you shut yourself in your room or leave the house entirely. You haven’t heard your brother’s deep and melodious voice in six months now. You’re uncertain if you have the strength within you to forgive him. Maybe one day, once the Dragons and the Wolves are just a distant nightmare you never have to experience again.

The day starts like any other. Yoongi drops you off at the university and you thank him before heading to class. The topics and lectures are boring, per usual, as you doodle in your notebook alongside the actual notes you take. You’re out of focus these days but you manage to keep your grades up. It’s hard without your study buddy.

The call comes a little before your last lecture is supposed to start. It’s Seokjin, and you know something is wrong as soon as you answer.

“You need to come home. Something’s happened,” he says.

“Seokjin, I don’t —”

“It’s Joonie,” his voice breaks.

Your heart sinks into an abyss so deep you’re certain it will never rise again.

You’re running before the call even drops. The last thing Seokjin tells you is that Yoongi is waiting for you at the entrance. Propelling your feet forward even though you want to collapse, you bolt out of the building and make it to Yoongi’s car in an instant.

Yoongi is speeding off before the door has had time to shut. He doesn’t say anything. Just stares straight ahead with tears rolling down his face like rain.

When you reach the house, the silence seems to stretch infinitely. There are no birds chirping or trees billowing in the wind. It’s absolutely stone cold silent. You wonder if the apocalypse came while you were in the car. The door to the house creaks open and the sound of people breathing and the AC blasting is somehow deafening in comparison.

Your feet move on their own because your mind is too busy hiding from what it knows is about to come.

Namjoon is lying on the couch with one arm falling limp over the edge of the cushion. He looks like he’s taking one of his infamous naps. The ones that always happen after he’s been reading for too long. The only thing missing from the scene is an open book lying across his chest. You stop a few feet away and stare at his chest, the one you spent your entire childhood lying on and slapping whenever he made you angry. You will it to move with your mind, imagine it rising and falling and attempt a manifestation of the sight into reality. After counting to ten without seeing it rise, you collapse.

A scream rips out of your throat as you bring your forehead to the hardwood floor beneath you. Your entire body is shaking so violently that the zippers on your clothes rattle. Someone who smells like Hoseok comes behind you, holding you up against him as you sob hard enough to make yourself sick.

“No,” you wail helplessly into his shoulder.

Hoseok releases you when you begin to push against his hold. You crawl towards your brother on your hands and knees. When you reach him you caress his face and push his hair out of his eyes. He hates it when it gets in his eyes.

“Joonie,” you whisper to only him. “Joonie, you gotta wake up.” You gasp for air. “I need my big brother. Please, please, for me, you have to wake up.”

He doesn’t respond. You already know he can’t. It doesn’t matter. You’ll speak nonsense to him until his body begins to decay.

Throwing yourself on top of him, you cry into his bloodstained clothes. He’s still warm even though he’s hard to the touch. You aren’t sure if there’s a scientific explanation or if your brother’s soul is just so warm that it left behind a signature.

No one moves. Every member of the Dragons just watches in agony as you mourn your brother. Their beloved leader.

You want to die. You want to take one of the switchblades amongst the men in the room and slit your throat. Let your blood congeal with your brother’s and have them bury you together.

Namjoon probably wants to force his way out the afterlife, barreling through anyone in his path, even God himself, just to yell at you for even thinking about it. He raised you to be strong, but you don’t know what strength is without him.

His three best friends help you up once your cries subside into dry whimpers. They help you walk, one with his arm around your waist, the other two with their arms around your shoulders and arm, up the stairs to your room.

As gently as three gang members can, they lay you in your bed. Yoongi takes your shoes off for you and Hoseok pulls the blankets over you.

You grab Seokjin’s hand before they have a chance to leave.

“Please don’t… don’t move him yet,” you croak through your sore vocal chords. “I need to be there. It should be up to me how we… how we bury him.”

Seokjin assures you they won’t as tears fall from his eyes. The two of you share a meaningful glance. A secret only the three of you shared and will be buried along with your brother.

Your tears put you to sleep. It’s completely dreamless. Just black, empty darkness that feels infinite. You wonder if this endless void is your new reality.

The sound of knocking is what wakes you up. You’re still in delirium as you sit up and attempt to find the source of the sound. When you do, you gasp, pulling the covers away and springing from the bed.

You push your window up, reaching your hand out for the guest hanging onto your ledge with his fingertips.

Jungkook steps into your room one leg at a time, ducking down so he fits through the opening. When he stands to his full height, you think you’re still dreaming. It isn’t until he speaks that you realize you aren’t.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I had to see you, I couldn’t —”

Your mouth clips his sentence in half. Hands tugging at his shirt, you pull him into you as you kiss him. He’s still as a statue at first, confusion evident in the way his brow creases. But then you feel his hands on your waist and he pulls you closer, matching the rhythm of your mouth against his.

Your foreheads touch as you exhale into the air between you. Eyes still closed, you let the feeling of him and his warmth take you under and into his current.

“I missed you,” you say. Jungkook’s hands squeeze your hips. “I missed you so much, Jungkook.”

Your head drops to his shoulder as you cry. He pulls you into him and holds you there with his hand against your head. He combs his fingers through your hair and kisses down the side of your face. Anything he can think to do to bring you some sort of comfort.

“I’m here, pretty,” he tells you. “Not going anywhere.”

He guides you over to your bed as your breathing levels out again. You sit next to one another and Jungkook caresses your hand. Every once in a while bringing it to his lips to kiss your knuckles one by one.

With your free hand you grab his chin, turning his face back and forth before you breathe out a laugh.

“You’re still so handsome,” you say after analyzing his features. The scars embedded in his honey skin are faint. “I almost forgot how handsome you are.”

Jungkook shakes his head.

“I knew you’d say something like that,” he responds. He pulls you closer so your knees touch. The silent moments between you are comfortable. You don’t need to speak, just be near. After a while Jungkook licks his lips and says, “I’m so, so sorry about your brother, Y/N.”

Your hand grips his fingers harder as reality slowly creeps back in.

“I…” you have to inhale before you can continue. “The last time I ever spoke to him was that night.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen and then soften into something that looks like guilt. As if him being brutally beaten was his own doing.

“Baby,” Jungkook calls to you.

You shake your head. There is no going back now and you aren’t sure you would if given the chance. Maybe just to tell Namjoon you love him one more time, but nothing further. His death doesn’t take away from him hurting you.

“I didn’t know if you were dead or alive until classes started again,” you tell him. “I had nightmares every night about what they did to you. The way your bones sounded when they —”

“Hey, don’t do that. I’m right here. I’m fine,” Jungkook reassures you.

“You weren’t fine, though,” you snap. “I wasn’t fine. He took you from me, Jungkook.” You wipe the tears from your cheeks. “I told him my feelings for you and he still made me stay away.”

Jungkook doesn’t have a response because he knows everything you’re feeling isn’t black and white. The grief is mixing with the anger and the sadness into a devastating combination of emotions. So he holds you instead, pulls you across his lap so your thighs are resting on either side of him. Brushes his fingers up your back in a soothing pattern while you rest your head on his shoulder.

After a while of comforting silence, your lips find the mole on his neck. It’s just a tentative kiss at first, but then you’re kissing him harder and sucking on the sensitive skin at the junction of his neck and shoulder. His hands caress your hips tentatively, fingers reaching up and brushing against the skin beneath your top.

“Pretty,” Jungkook sighs. “We don’t have to —”

“I need you, Jungkook,” you say as you face him. You don’t mean it sexually, even though sex is exactly what you’re asking for. The need to feel him close is just so great, that his touch is the only thing that can quell it. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him, heard him, or touched him, and you’re desperate to feel his heartbeat beneath your fingers just so you know he’s here and he’s alive. “Please, baby.”

Jungkook nods and kisses you slowly, taking the time to taste you on his tongue as your hips begin to grind against him. When his hands guide you across his lap in slow circles, you feel him growing hard beneath you and you moan into his mouth. He deepens the kiss with his tongue, cradling your neck to keep your head still as he chases your lips.

Your hands find his shoulders and use the leverage to grind down harder against the evident bulge in his pants. You groan at the feeling of his clothed cock meeting your clit through your clothes. Jungkook growls deep in his throat when you pick up the pace and suddenly his lips are all over you. He kisses down your face and across your jaw, sucks on your neck and drags his tongue along your hot skin before biting into your jugular. Your gasp slowly morphs into a moan.

Jungkook moves away for a split second so he can tug your top over your head and his eyes drop down to your covered chest to see what he’s been dying to all this time. He cups your breasts in his hands, massaging and pushing them together before bending down to kiss the tops of them.

You reach back to unclip your bra and Jungkook moans as it falls away. He’s never gotten to see you like this before, feel your soft skin under his hands like this. Now unimpeached, Jungkook takes one of your nipples in his mouth while twisting the other between his fingers. You throw your head back as you pant in ecstasy.

“Jungkook,” you whine as he gives your other breast the same attention. “Feels so good.”

When he’s done, he kisses his way back up to your lips. One hand tangles into his long hair and your nails scratch at his scalp while your free hand tugs at the hem of his top. Jungkook chuckles at your silent signal before removing his shirt with one hand.

Seeing him unobstructed for the first time is pure heaven. Hands tracing over his shoulders and down his chest, you scratch your nails across the abs you knew he had with a satisfied groan. When he pulls you close, the skin to skin contact you’ve been aching for is like jumping into a pool on a hot summer day.

Jungkook’s warm hands are sprawled across your back as your pussy moves expertly against him. Part of you wants to just keep going like this until you both come in your pants, but most of you wants him naked and beneath you in your bed.

Jungkook obliges without needing to be told. He lifts you enough to lie you back and crawls over you, pushing your thighs apart with his knee. You reach for him and he kisses your fingers before meeting you again at your lips. His hands are working your jeans off you while he ravishes your lips and jaw.

When they’re gone, he sits back on his heels to look at you. This is the sight he’s been waiting for and he doesn’t want to miss a second of it. His hands grip your thighs and he squeezes them to watch your flesh move between his fingers.

“So beautiful, baby,” he praises you. He starts kissing you again at your collarbones before inching down slowly. After his mouth leaves your breasts, he kisses down your stomach. “I love you,” he whispers directly into your skin. You aren’t sure you heard him right, but then he repeats himself as he kisses across your hips. “I love you… I love you… I love you.”

It comes out of his mouth like a prayer and you’re his only deity. Bittersweet tears roll down your cheeks at his confession and your fingers thread into his hair when he finally reaches your pussy. He kisses you once on your mound before pulling your underwear down your legs so he can taste you.

He kisses your sex slowly at first, in fact, it’s so featherlight you barely feel him, but then his tongue swipes across your folds and you moan desperately. His hands grip the back of your thighs to pull you closer, burying his face into your cunt. He groans in pleasure, his mouth and tongue alternating between licking and kissing you while his nose teases your clit.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he grunts as he dives back in for more.

You’re a complete mess above him. Hair strewn haphazardly across the pillow, nipples swollen and erect, panting out breaths with dried tears all down your face.

Jungkook moves to suck on your clit and then kitten licks it, using a finger to push your hood back and drive you into oversensitivity. You cover your mouth with your hand to scream into your palm. Your hips chase his mouth and he simply lets you while he moans against your cunt as you ride his face.

Jungkook grips you tighter to still you, not letting you grind anymore so he can go into overdrive against your hole. He fucks you with his tongue and then licks all the way up to your clit before staying there, flattening his tongue against the nub and moving his face back and forth. He pulls back and spits directly on it before rubbing the drool in with the tip of his tongue.

Your orgasm pulls you beneath the waves of ecstasy and you welcomely drown in it. It happens without warning, but Jungkook already knows. He knows your body like it’s his own and he growls as you come on his face and he drinks every last drop.

Gasping for any air you can find, Jungkook kisses across your thighs and bites at your flesh. You grab him by the shoulder to bring him back to you, tasting yourself on his lips as your cum smears across the bottom half of your face.

Your hands are quick to undo Jungkook’s belt and pull down the zipper of his jeans. You feel absolutely feverish for him and start palming him through his boxers before his pants are even fully off. He groans into your mouth before kissing your neck and biting at your earlobe, letting his tongue trace the perimeter of it.

You want to see him fully and appreciate him in all his glory, so you use your legs to wrap around his own and flip him onto his back. He looks a little shocked at you doing anything even remotely dominant, but the fire in his eyes tells you exactly how much he loves it.

His neck is your first target as you lick the sweaty skin and press wet kisses all over his throat and shoulder. As your lips move down his torso, your hands follow closely behind, digging your nails into his skin and creating red marks in their wake. He grunts and bucks his hips as you finish your assault on his delicious abdominal muscles. Your eyes roll back when you count eight of them.

You pull his boxers down and off without ever breaking eye contact. Crawling back over him, you appreciate his entire body laid before you for the first time. He’s so beautiful you could cry.

Pumping his cock with your warm hand, you move to taste him when he stops you with a hand to your shoulder.

“No, pretty,” he starts. “It’s not about me tonight. Just wanna make you feel good.” You pout and he soothes you by sitting up and pushing your hair away from your face. “Will you let me?” He kisses you softly, but with all his devotion. “Let me make love to you?”

You close your eyes and nod, causing him to kiss the skin of your eyelids adoringly before lying you beneath him again. Jungkook doesn’t waste any time. His cock is already teasing your clit while he swipes through your folds to lube himself with your cum. He thrusts into you slowly, letting you adjust to the feel of him again after so long apart.

Your nails rake down his back and across his shoulders as he splits you apart on his cock. You can feel him throbbing deep inside your walls and it’s as though your entire body was created for this very moment.

When you don’t show any signs of discomfort, Jungkook begins thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace before hovering above you with his forearms carrying his weight. His body is so familiar and yet everything feels brand new.

Your legs wrap around his stupidly tiny waist and an actual laugh escapes you. His questioning eyes find yours in response.

“What do you have such a small waist for, huh? It’s unfair. It’s smaller than mine,” you explain.

Jungkook tsks at you before kissing your cheek.

“Your waist is perfect,” he says. “You’re fucking perfect.”

His thrusts are slower than normal, but just as deep. The motion pushes you up the bed each time he enters your pussy and Jungkook has to use his hands to protect your head from hitting the headboard. He grinds his hips down in conjunction with his strokes and it forces his cock right into your g-spot.

Your moans are just one endless stream of sound because it feels too heavenly to do anything else and soon his name filters between them to create a melody meant only for his ears.

His body is bringing you forms of pleasure you’ve never experienced with anyone else and yet you care more about the feeling of his warm body against yours. It’s his skin and sweat, the goosebumps on his arms, his hair tickling your face, that truly means the most to you. He’s here in your arms, heart beating up against your own and it almost brings tears to your eyes again. You almost lost him.

You aren’t able to focus on your sentiments for much longer because he pulls back and lifts your ankles to his shoulders and then bends you in half, the back of your thighs touching his chest.

“Oh fuck, baby,” you gasp. The push and pull of Jungkook’s dick at this angle has your nails nearly puncturing the skin of his shoulder.

“I got you, pretty,” he states.

He kisses your calf next to his face and you feel warm all over. Through your legs you can see the way his thick cock comes out coated in your essence before it disappears into you again. Jungkook is watching the same way you are, his mouth open in awe of how well your pussy sucks him in over and over.

The position is too good for your mind to fully comprehend, but you need him closer. You want your skin pressed together as one in every possible place it can, so you grab at him and he gets the message, letting your legs fall back to his hips. When he returns to his prior position, his elbows are next to your ears as he stretches your hole open for him repeatedly.

His cock fills you so perfectly that you feel every ridge and vein against your velvet walls. The friction is debilitating and sends your mind into a complete frenzy. You’re crying tears of pleasure that Jungkook kisses away before devouring your mouth. Gripping his ass, you thrust up against him in an attempt to sink him deeper inside you even though you swear you feel him in your stomach already.

It’s not enough. Nothing with Jungkook will ever feel like enough when your body wants him so insatiably, but right now, you need more.

“Jungkook,” you pant. He makes a sound of affirmation as he mouths at your jaw. “Stop playing nice.”

Jungkook lifts his head to look at you. He raises an eyebrow and tilts his head to give you a chance to take back your instruction, but you stare him down with a matching intensity instead.

The sound of his deep chuckle is right next to your ear and your heart races in anticipation.

In an instant, your hands are forced above your head by one of his own, crossing your wrists over each other and lacing his fingers between the ones he can reach. He pushes at them once, as if telling you not to try anything. When you open your mouth to moan, Jungkook crashes into your lips and spits into your mouth, making you gasp as you swallow his saliva. His free hand teasingly traces your skin from hip to knee, creating fiery goosebumps along your flesh, before he grabs you by the knee and forces your leg up higher on his hip, creating an even closer angle.

He rears back slowly, leaving just his tip in for a lingering moment. Jungkook waits until you whine pathetically at the emptiness, your hips bucking up in desperation. Your pussy clenches around nothing as it begs for him to come back home. Once there are tears pricking at your eyes and he thinks you’ve waited long enough, he slams into you so hard your vision goes out.

He clasps his hand over your mouth before you can scream because of his downright fucking demonic pace as he pistons his cock into you. You’re screaming and drooling against his hand as tears wet your cheeks, creating a fusion of liquid all over your face. You cannot comprehend how this is the same man who kissed his love into your stomach and hips. You worry you’ll look up and his eyes will be glowing red with the fires of hell.

This is months of being separated coming to a head. All the fear, rage, depression, and guilt pooling in your stomachs and physically manifesting into a miasma of pleasure. Every thought and worry you felt for one another is pouring over your bodies like acid, burning you in a scorching heat that only the other can quench.

You’re close and Jungkook can tell by the way your cunt flutters around him. His mouth replaces his hand as he kisses you, letting go of your hands above your head so he can grasp your hips. Your arms snake around his back and into his hair, tugging on the strands to pull him away so you can kiss the veins popping out in his neck.

“Need to feel you come, pretty,” he grunts.

A breathy moan is your only response because words are failing you. Jungkook angles your hips up so his tip is kissing you in just the right spot. His thrusts have slowed again but are deeper than ever, so passionate in his pursuit to pleasure you that your orgasm pulls you into a different plane of existence entirely.

Your hand grips Jungkook’s hair impossibly tight as your pussy spasms around him. He groans loudly, his head tipping back as you come around him.

Jungkook usually loves to fill you up and watch it drip out, but for some reason the need to paint you in his seed overwhelms him. He pulls out and fists his cock as hot spurts of cum fall across your stomach, tits, and thighs.

You moan appreciatively at the feeling and watch in awe at the way it drips from his tip and onto your skin. Instinctively, your mouth opens as you stare into Jungkook’s fucked-out eyes. He hears your message loud and clear, using his fingers to scoop some of his cum from your belly before feeding it to you. You suck it off his fingers without breaking eye contact until you roll your eyes and moan at the taste of him.

Jungkook is panting, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths as he stares at the mess he made of you.

“Fuck, pretty,” he exhales.

You sit up on your elbows and smile at his artwork across your body.

“You could always lick it off of me, ya know,” you suggest.

Jungkook laughs.

“Don’t get me going again, my love,” he responds. “I’ll fucking ruin you.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

Jungkook’s eyes darken and he runs his hands through his hair. After taking a moment to stare you down, he steals your hands and pins them above your head. His lips are touching yours by just a hair when he responds.

“It’s a promise… for another day,” he states.

You pout and he kisses it away before finally leaving you to find something to clean you with. You nod your head towards your en-suite bathroom and he comes back with a warm towel.

You run your fingers through the front of his hair as he delicately wipes his own cum from your soft skin. When he’s done he bends down to kiss your stomach before returning the towel to the bathroom.

When he returns you’re sitting up and pulling a baggy shirt over your head. Jungkook slips on his boxers and sits next to you, pulling your feet into his lap and caressing your ankles.

Fingers fiddling in your lap, you chew on your lip as you think about the path that lies ahead. There is still so much left unanswered and it terrifies you.

You have to bury your brother and the Dragons need a new leader. Your only tie to the gang is now gone. The gang would never kick you out of the house, but without Namjoon you have no reason to be involved in this world. But you also have nowhere else to go.

Then there’s Jungkook, who is a longstanding member of the very gang who is probably responsible for Namjoon’s death. It’s not like they would welcome you into their fray even with him gone. Everyone knows you’re his sister. You love Jungkook and you want to be with him more than anything, but you don’t know a way around all the obstacles still in your path.

Jungkook gently tucks a stray hair behind your ear, his eyes silently questioning if you’re alright. You affirm him with a nod.

He leaves soon after because you still have so much to sort out. Although, not before putting his number back into your phone and kissing you goodbye. He tells you he’ll see you at the university and you can talk more then.

When you return downstairs, Namjoon is covered by a white cloth. You, Seokjin, Yoongi, and Hoseok sit in the kitchen and discuss burial plans. Yoongi has a family friend who runs a funeral home. You finish deciding on the details and a quiet tension fills the room as you all realize what you need to discuss next.

“So, how do we go about finding out who did this?” Hoseok starts the daunting conversation.

“It was obviously the fucking Wolves,” Yoongi snarls.

“Yeah, but not all of them,” you say. “The gang as a whole would never do something so stupid and reckless.”

“You think it was some rogue member?” Seokjin asks.

“That or a small faction who is itching to start a war,” you respond.

“Well they got what they wanted,” Yoongi says as he crosses his arms. “I’m going to Bangchan tomorrow to challenge them to a brawl. On the condition that if they give up the coward who did this, no one else gets hurt.”

“You think it will work?” Hoseok questions.

“Wait, you want more people, our people, to possibly get hurt?” You don’t see the logic in it. The Dragons are already down and out without your brother. A massive brawl between the two gangs will only make things worse.

“Someone has to be punished, Y/N,” Yoongi answers. “I’ll let them decide if it’s one or all of them.”

You know that Yoongi’s decision is final. He was Namjoon’s right hand man and is most likely to take over as leader. But that doesn’t mean you won’t do whatever it takes to stop it from happening.

Jungkook finds you after your classes end for the day. You run straight into his arms when you see him, wrapping yourself around his neck and inhaling his familiar scent. His hands sneak below your shirt and rub soothing circles on your waist and back. He kisses you before you go somewhere private to talk.

Sitting down outside the large double doors of the university, you reach across the wooden table to take his hands. It feels odd, but soothing being here together again after months of not crossing paths. When you glance around, you see the same path you took as you were skipping ahead of him after taking an exam. In the opposite direction, there’s a small cove where Jungkook fingered you and kissed you like he needed it more than oxygen. That was shortly before the incident with your brother. The prettier memories of your relationship are all around you.

Inhaling deeply, you squeeze his hands before telling him everything you know.

“There’s going to be a fight in three days unless the Wolves give up the person or people responsible for Namjoon’s death. If they do, the brawl is off,” you explain.

Jungkook is playing with your fingers as he listens to you.

“That won’t work,” Jungkook states. “We would never give up one of our own even if he did do something as cowardly as murdering someone in cold blood.”

“I know,” you agree. “That’s why we have to figure out who did this before then and give them up ourselves.”

“It won’t be easy, pretty,” Jungkook admits. He lets go and leans back before sighing and running his fingers through his hair. “Everyone knows about you and I. They won’t let anything slip around me or my friends.” You chew on your bottom lip as you contemplate your options. Jungkook watches you before taking a deep breath. “If the brawl goes down… you know I’ll have to be there, right, pretty?”

You nod with a far away look in your eyes.

“I know. That’s why it has to work. I can’t lose you, too,” you whisper without looking at him.

Jungkook kisses the back of your hands, tilting his head to bring your attention to him. His pretty doe eyes are hesitant, not wanting to leave you like this, but you assure him you’re fine before standing.

He still drops you off at the same spot to avoid any unnecessary tension if he’s spotted near the house. You kiss him goodbye through the driver’s side window before venturing home.

Upon returning home, you notice the classical music playing from the stereo before anything else. You recognize the song and already know who’ll be there before entering the room. Seokjin sits with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a glass of ice in the other. Everyone else must either be out or in their rooms. You sit next to him and gesture for the bottle. He passes it unceremoniously over to you.

“We swore Yoongi in tonight,” Seokjin tells you.

“He’ll do good,” you reply. You look at the bottle and swirl the liquid around inside. “He’s always been prudent.”

“Yeah,” Seokjin sighs.

You put the bottle down and reach for Seokjin’s arm instead. Squeezing it, he looks at you with glassy eyes.

“I miss him already, too,” you breathe.

Seokjin flashes you a hollow smile.

“There was still so much we wanted to do together,” he muses. Seokjin looks down at his hand, stretching his fingers out and flexing it. “He just bought us matching rings. We were gonna wear them on different fingers so no one caught on.”

“Bought? My brother?”

Seokjin genuinely smiles at that.

“Can you believe it? He said he didn’t want something like that to be stolen. That I deserve to be paid for,” Seokjin explains.

You relax against the chair.

“Yeah, that sounds like him,” you say.

“I know you two weren’t on good terms at the time, but it doesn’t change how deeply he loved you,” Seokjin continues.

“I know,” you reply.

“He didn’t…” Seokjin sighs, mulling over his next words carefully. “He was pissed about you sleeping with a Wolf, don’t get me wrong, but he didn’t do what he did out of cruelty. He was our leader. If he looked the other way and people found out, they would've started to doubt his ability to do whatever necessary for the gang.” Seokjin sits forward to meet your eyes. “I know that doesn’t make it any better, but I wanted you to know. He only ever wanted two things for you, Y/N. To be happy and to be safe.”

“Jungkook does both of those things for me,” you say.

“Good,” Seokjin smiles.

You squeeze his arm one last time before leaving him alone with the whiskey bottle.

Time soldiers on with each tick of the clock, every second bringing you closer to the inevitable truth that this brawl is going to happen. Jungkook tells you he’s doing his best, but the truth is harder to scrounge for than originally anticipated.

The truth comes too late.

The night of the brawl, you do what you swore you never would and drive Namjoon’s motorcycle down the unfamiliar streets to the Wolf’s Den. You’re wearing his biker jacket, too. The Dragons had it cleaned and the patches re-embroidered before gifting it to you.

Jungkook meets you at the back of the house and sneaks you into his room in the basement. Despite your terror about tonight, finally seeing his room brings a smile to your face.

“I like it,” you say as you run your fingers down the leather jacket on his chair.

Jungkook takes a seat on the bed while your eyes comb over the pieces of him scattered around the room. A picture of him and his parents, a drawing of an adorable white dog who looks like a cloud, his boxing gloves. It’s comforting being so entirely surrounded by him.

Pulling you by the waist, Jungkook brings you to stand between his legs. His hands caress you from your thighs to your stomach before he leans in and kisses your navel, then rests his forehead against you. You comb your fingers through his hair, admiring the pretty black strands. He hums peacefully at the feeling. Being with him like this makes it easy to forget reality looming on the other side of the door, lying in wait for you to return to it.

“You’ll stay back as much as possible, right? Avoid the big guys?” You ask him.

Jungkook sighs, leaning back on his hands and tracing over your features with his eyes.

“Pretty, you know I can’t do that,” he responds.

Nodding with your lip between your teeth, you avoid his eyes. Anger and fear mix together in your stomach and make you want to be sick. Your brother is dead and now the man you love is on the precipice of the same fate. You already lost him once and you refuse to do it again.

“So, you just…” your sentence dies in your throat. There aren’t enough words to explain the heaviness you feel.

Jungkook stands and brings you to his chest. You hit him to make him let you go, but your body is already betraying you and melting into his embrace. You bury your face into his shirt, inhaling his scent and letting it envelope you in familiarity.

“Please, don’t go,” you beg him. “I love you, Jungkook. I can’t –,” you cut yourself off before your emotions can drown you. “Just… please.”

Jungkook’s fingers use your chin to bring your lips to his. It’s a quick kiss, barely a peck before he moves to kiss the corner of your mouth and then your cheek.

“I love you, too, Y/N. I love you more than I can even comprehend, but this is my family we’re talking about. I have a responsibility to them, too,” he tells you.

You don’t fight him on it anymore. There’s no strength left within you to do so. Your mental fortitude is cracking and crumbling into ash all around you. Most of all, you don’t want what could possibly be your last moments together to happen in anger.

Harsh banging forces you apart as someone tells Jungkook it’s time to go. He cradles your face in his hands and kisses you ardently. It feels like goodbye and tastes like grief. You use his lips as an altar and pray to the angels and the saints and maybe even the demons to keep him safe and bring him home to you unscathed. You promise them you’ll be joining them soon if they don’t.

Jungkook sneaks you back out as the Wolves gather in the road on their idling motorcycles. He leaves you with a final kiss to your lips and forehead, where he whispers how much he loves you one more time.

You watch helplessly as your eyes trace his figure moving further and further away from you. He throws an arm around who you can only assume is Taehyung as Jimin follows closely behind. You don’t look away until you’re unable to follow him any longer. His bike carrying him away from you along with the rest of his gang.

A twig snaps, or maybe fate pulls at your shoulder, and you look up just as a few stragglers are heading to leave. You recognize the familiar face as though you last saw him yesterday, and not over a decade ago. The blood in your veins courses through you at sub-zero temperatures and freezes around your organs.

Realization slams into you with the force of a brick wall. You need to tell the others that you know who took Namjoon from you.

Running across the yard as fast as your legs can carry you, your hands shake as you work to secure your helmet. Your leg swings over the leather seat and you throttle the engine. The bike roars to life and you don’t waste a second before taking off down the street.

One motorcycle can get somewhere a lot faster than twenty five can, but they already have a decent head start.

Your heart is pounding so loud you can hear it in your ears as the buildings fly by in streaks of blurry light. It rained earlier and the water from the road is whipping up at your legs. All of your senses feel overloaded by the anxiety taking root within you.

You have no clue what you’re going to do when reach the gangs, and if the fight has already started, it will be too dangerous to intervene.

Jungkook flashes across your mind, and you can already picture the expression of worry and concern he’ll have when you arrive. He’s going to be so angry with you for putting yourself in harm’s way, and Yoongi, Seokjin, and Hoseok will be the same. You can’t concern yourself with their potential anger right now. All that matters is getting to them.

The brawl is taking place at the old salt mill which still stands on the edge of the city. It’s a massive open air factory built on acres of farmland. The last time you saw it, the steel walls were beginning to tear and the foundation cracking.

Despite its dilapidation, it’s the perfect location for fifty or so men to beat and kill each other without anyone noticing.

The monumental building comes into view in the distance and as you approach you see all the motorcycles lined up along the road.

Parking next to the familiar motorcycles belonging to the Dragons, you grant yourself the reprieve of a single deep breath before diving headfirst into the danger ahead.

The engine has barely begun to cool when you throw your helmet off. Your feet propel you forward across the wet pavement towards the factory. Your shoes meet puddles as you run and the water splashes against your bare legs.

Looking down at your attire, you almost scoff. Namjoon would be so mad at you for not looking the part. You’re about to run into a room of fifty armed men wearing a pleated skirt and frilly pink blouse. At least Namjoon’s jacket still resting on your shoulders makes you look a little bit tougher.

You can just make out the figures amongst the processing equipment and huge piles of salt left behind by the manufacturers. The mountains of salt surround the two gangs and make it look as though they’re in the center of an arena. As you move forward, you see Yoongi and Bangchan standing in the space between the two gangs.

They’re probably discussing the “rules” and deciding which weapons will be allowed. It’s a pointless conversation to make themselves feel better. You’re certain that every man in there brought a gun to this knife fight.

“Wait!” You shout when you’re in earshot, traversing over rusted machinery and scattered salt. You speak again once you’re inside. “Stop!”

Yoongi is looking at you incredulously, his eyes burning with a protective fury. Seokjin and Hoseok mirror his expression from where they stand on the far right and left of the Dragons. Your eyes catch motion in your peripheral vision, and you see Jungkook already moving through the crowd to get to you.

Yoongi grabs your arm and tugs you back into the crowd of Dragons, standing so that his body is shielding you from the Wolves across the room. He opens his mouth to no doubt scold you and demand an explanation, but he doesn’t get the chance. A cacophony of noises and voices stops him.

“Hey –”

“Get off me.”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Dude, what the hell.”

“Heesung –”

Your eyes widen in horror as you take in the scene over Yoongi’s shoulder. He sees your expression and turns to follow your gaze.

The Wolves have all moved back into a U shape which highlights two figures standing to the left, next to a massive pile of salt. The flood lights on the ceiling bounce off the bright white and bathe the two of them in an unnatural light.

Jungkook jerks his right arm back to get the man holding him across the shoulders to let go. He grunts and tries to elbow him in the stomach, but stops short when he feels something cool and sharp press against his jugular.

There’s a silver glint from where the light catches on the blade pushing against Jungkook’s throat. Your eyes snap shut involuntarily as a paralyzing fear overtakes your nervous system.

“Y/N…” The man sing-songs in a tone so eerie it creeps up your spine like weeds.

You didn’t think this through. Didn’t account for what Heesung would do when he’s backed into a corner.

“Heesung, please let him go,” you beg cautiously, not wanting to make a single miscalculation. “He doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

A wave of confusion crosses over Jungkook’s face at your familiarity with his fellow Wolf.

Heesung laughs at your plea and the knife presses harder against Jungkook’s skin. A single bead of blood trails down his throat.

Jungkook knows he’s stronger than Heesung, that he can overpower him with ease, but he can’t bring himself to fight when he sees you across the room. You’re shaking, your eyes so sorrowful it breaks his heart, and your lip trembles where it’s clenched between your teeth. He has something to live for now, someone to come home to, and he can’t risk Heesung’s knife going anywhere it shouldn’t.

“Doesn’t he?” Heesung retorts. “He is your lover, yes? So I should kill him, too, just like I killed Namjoon and leave you with no one so you’ll be just like me.”

His confession permeates through the air, stunning both gangs into a weighted silence. You feel Yoongi go stiff by your side.

“No,” you whimper. “You can just take me instead. That would be enough, right? Enough revenge? Enough penance for what we did to you?”

“Y/N,” Jungkook snaps at you, but Heesung shushes him.

Heesung studies you for a moment before shaking his head, the knife pressing down again and making Jungkook gasp for air.

“No, Y/N. Nothing will ever be enough,” Heesung snarls.

Time seems to slow once the words leave him, because before anyone in the room can even take their next breath, a gunshot rings out.

“No!”

Your scream is nearly simultaneous with the gunshot itself, following it by only a millisecond.

Your view of Jungkook and Heesung gets forcefully taken from you in an instant. The only thing you see is blood splattering and dispersing into the air where their heads were a moment ago. The ricochet and a body falling to the floor sends salt up into the air and covers the entire scene in a white cloud.

There are no words for the emotions that overtake you in the moment before the blood and salt settle. It feels like fear at first, but the word is too small in comparison. Panic, terror, dread, none of them are heavy enough. Grief moves in like fog across the morning air. You wait with bated breath to see if it will break and the sun will peak through the clouds.

Someone coughs, and then they stumble out from the cloud of salt with ragged breaths and wide eyes. He’s covered in blood splatter, the thick liquid matting down his hair and soiling his shirt, but it’s clear none of it is his own.

“Jungkook!”

Your feet can’t bring you to him fast enough. When they do, you throw your arms around his neck as your entire body shakes. Jungkook is still delirious, the gunshot throwing off his equilibrium. But then he feels your warmth against him, grounding him, and his arms latch around your waist.

“It’s okay. I’m alright,” he assures you. His hand sinks into your hair as he pulls you closer, causing your back to arch into him and your heels to lift from the floor. He kisses across your temple, cheek, and hairline.

Your very soul releases a sigh of relief as you sink deeper into his embrace.

The sound of a pistol chamber clicking back into place catches your attention. As the salt slowly falls to the ground like snow, you turn your head to see Seokjin standing behind it. He’s cleaning the gun with a rag as he looks at the body before him in disgust.

“Seokjin,” you say to grab his attention.

He looks up at you with the tiniest of smiles on his lips. If you didn’t know the features of his face you wouldn’t be able to notice it. It’s solemn and peaceful, like he’s finally laying something to rest.

“Didn’t mean to ruin the fun, but that asshole was really pissing me off,” he states. “Can we call this an eye for an eye and be done, Bangchan? I’m not sure you want someone willing to kill one of his own in your ranks anyway.”

Bangchan looks so utterly confused at the whole display that he has to shake his head before gathering his thoughts.

“Yeah,” he finally answers. “We’re done here.”

His words give way for the Wolves to mosey out of the factory, their whispers of confusion following them out to the road. Yoongi tells the Dragons to get home, too, before making his way over to where you’re still clinging to Jungkook.

“You want to tell me what the hell just happened?”

Jungkook squeezes your waist, nods and tells you it’s alright, before letting you go and joining Taehyung and Jimin near the exit. You watch Jimin grasp his shoulder and pull him in for a hug. Taehyung messes with his hair affectionately.

You ride home on Namjoon’s motorcycle while his friends lead the way. No one speaks until you’re sitting in Yoongi’s room together, passing a bottle of whiskey around. You only begin to talk after taking a slow, poignant sip of the liquor.

“You guys already know Namjoon and I ran away from home because our parents were physically and verbally abusive. But we swore never to tell anyone about what happened the day we left. Namjoon couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud even if he wanted to,” you begin before taking another burning sip of alcohol. “We left just after midnight and snuck out of the house down the fire escape. Our neighbor, Mrs. Lee, spotted us as we were climbing down. She realized what we were doing right away, so she grabbed me so we couldn’t run. I fought against her so hard, but she just wouldn’t let go.” You place your hands between your knees to stop them from shaking. “Namjoon shot her so we could get away. He didn’t have a choice. Our parents would’ve killed us that very night if he hadn’t.” You exhale somberly. “We only realized as we were running down the street that her son was outside and saw the whole thing. We grew up with Heesung. He was our friend. It… it was never meant to happen that way.”

“Oh, Y/N,” Hoseok grabs your hand and it makes you smile just a hair.

With Heesung’s death comes relief, and your hunger for vengeance is satiated, but the cruelty of fate still nips at your subconscious.

Heesung and Namjoon are two sides of a tragic coin. Neither one deserving of the cards they were dealt, and bound by the lingering strings of a tragedy which became their demise. The domino effect of a lifetime worth of decisions now ends with you, the last one standing.

“You and Namjoon both endured far more than you deserve,” Yoongi says. “But that’s all behind you now, and that Wolf of yours seems to make you pretty happy.”

You laugh and it feels real for the first time in a while.

“I think we can make an exception to the rules, don’t you?” Seokjin asks his new leader.

“Yes, I believe so,” Yoongi agrees.

Yoongi tells you Jungkook can visit as long as you’re with him the entire time, and he doesn’t leave your room. He allows it because you’re his best friends’ little sister and he loves you like his own. You’ve been through so much in your life already, and he isn’t going to keep a source of happiness from you. You’re so thankful that you force him into a tight embrace, which he pretends to begrudgingly accept, when he’s actually more than happy to return the affection.

Jungkook comes over, with permission this time, the very next day. You lie between his legs on your bed while he shows you how to drift in Mario Kart. You’re downright terrible at it, and he has to place his fingers over yours to prevent a loss on his account. When you inevitably do lose, and his overall ranking drops, his tongue presses to his cheek as he stares you down.

The next thing you know, he’s taking the Switch from you and gently setting it down on the nightstand before turning his attention back to you. He moves his hands down your body from your hips until he reaches your inner thighs and tugs your legs apart. His fingers are quick to find their way to your folds, touching you over your underwear. Your head falls to his shoulder as you moan softly.

“I should piss you off more often,” you muse.

His fingers are just running up and down your slit over the lace of your panties and it’s both not enough and too much simultaneously. He pushes down, causing the fabric to rub against your clit and you gasp, your hand gripping his arm to keep yourself steady.

“I wouldn’t try it,” he warns. His lips are right against your ear and the deepness of his voice sends shivers down your spine. Then he’s kissing your neck and your mind becomes too hazy to reply.

Jungkook moves your underwear to the side as he’s sucking on your neck and pushes into your cunt without warning. Your other hand curls around his head and grabs onto his hair. It’s pathetic how wet you already are, but the squelching sound your pussy makes as his fingers pump in and out is worth the embarrassment.

You’re restless, needing more of him than he’s currently providing you.

“Wanna ride you,” you tell him between your moans and sharp intakes of air. Jungkook is more than willing to oblige your request.

Which is how you end up on top of him, his cock meeting your cervix repeatedly as you alternate between bouncing up and down and grinding against his hips. His hands are everywhere at first, tracing your outline and massaging over any skin within his reach. But then his right arm, which is so beautifully decorated in tattoos, traverses the familiar path of your chest, stopping to pinch your nipple, before wrapping around your throat.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan as your head tips back. The position gives you such a beautiful view of him and his tattoos. You remind yourself to ask him about them soon. A pretty tiger lily is staring you in the face, but then Jungkook squeezes your throat and it becomes a blur of orange and black.

“Always so good for me,” he whispers while sitting up. His lips find yours, his arm securing you to him so you can bounce on him easier. His hand is still on your throat, softly squeezing the sides of it to pleasure you without harm. “My pretty baby,” he says once he moves to sucking on your earlobe and down your neck, just above his own fingers. "Always take my cock so fucking well."

He makes you come twice, because he just loves you that much, before fucking his cum into you as he thrusts his swollen cock into your cunt.

Once your pussy is battered and filled to the brim with his cum, you fall over onto his chest. You can feel him softening inside you, but don’t want to lose the feeling of him just yet.

Jungkook kisses you slowly, licking across your bottom lip and pulling at it with his teeth. You lazily make out as your hands traverse his naked chest. His fingertips create goosebumps where they skim along your spine. You could stay like this forever without a single complaint.

“I love you,” he whispers on your lips. He says it so quietly, as if he’s trying to hide the proclamation from the rest of the world and keep it just for you.

You’re smiling when you kiss him again.

“I love you,” you parrot.

After he finally does pull out, you lie naked together under the covers as Jungkook plays with your hair, twirling it and attempting a makeshift braid while you draw shapes on his skin with your fingers. It’s quiet and peaceful inside your mind for the first time in a long time. Jungkook kisses your forehead and you look over at him with a smile.

Jungkook licks his lips and pulls you up with him until your backs are against the headboard. He finally asks you to enlighten him about why he had a blade to his neck the night prior. You relay the story to him as you did with your brother’s friends.

Jungkook looks rightfully shocked, but he processes his own emotions quickly to offer you comfort instead.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, pretty,” he says. “If you ever wanna talk about it some more, you know I’m always here, right?”

“I know,” you affirm. “I’m here for you, too.”

“God, we’re both fucked up,” Jungkook chuckles.

You nod in agreement.

“It doesn’t have to stay that way, you know,” you propose. “We graduate next year and with Joonie gone there isn’t anything left for me here. I’ll stay until I can afford a place of my own, but then I’m putting this life behind me.” You readjust so you’re looking at Jungkook directly. “And I want you to join me. You’re so fucking smart, Jungkook, and anywhere would be lucky to have you.”

Jungkook hums, tilting his head as he thinks over your words.

“I don’t know what I want right now, pretty, but I do know that I wanna be wherever you are,” he confesses. You’re smiling at him as though he hung the stars in the sky himself. “Is that enough for now?”

Your eyes flit over all the details of him. His wavy black hair, big chocolate brown eyes, and the piercings decorating his pretty lips and eyebrow. He looks so different from the boy you met at school and yet everything is so irrevocably him. You smile, bending down so your noses touch.

“It’s more than enough,” you tell him.

757 notes · View notes

spideyjimin · 2 months ago

Text

Break my heart | jjk

— pairing: jungkook x female reader

— genre: college au, roommates au, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, kind of friends to enemies, and enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, and smut

— rating: 18+

— summary: jungkook, a mask, and a party. three things that made you weak enough to break all the rules of friendship. you did with him what you usually do with strangers… but he was never supposed to be a one-night stand. there’s too much history. too much comfort. and now, the aftermath of that wild and steamy night has made living with him unbearable, but also impossible to walk away. because you’re falling. fast. deep. and maybe deep enough to let each other break your own hearts.

— words: 18,123

— warnings: implied sex, mention of alcohol, heavy sexual tension, so much teasing, strong language, lots of kissing, swearing, oral (f. receiving), penetrative sex, protected sex, mention of sex, kind of heartbreak, crying, fighting, mention of masturbation, flirting, mention of bathroom sex, oc throws very bad jokes at him, mention of toxic relationship, some jealousy, fingering, handjob, and multiple sex scenes

— author’s note: the fic is finally out!! i’ve had so much fun writing it & i hope you’ll enjoyed it 🥰 i know i said that i was taking a break but i had some days off & my hand is finally getting better so i just wrote 🫣 this is also like a “thank you” fic for all the milestones i reached in the past months i really appreciate you all & thank you so so much for everything 🩵🩵 hope you’ll enjoy this fic ✨

— playlist: OTRO CAPÍTULO | QUE HACES | sports car | railway | die for you

MASTERLIST

As you step inside the impressive ballroom, your eyes look around. The room is already full of people, which doesn’t surprise you, and it’s quite dark. Since it’s a masquerade ball, every single person is wearing a mask. Some are fancier than others, but in general, everybody looks fantastic with their masks on.

You turn to your left, your eyes meeting Jungkook’s before you look down at where your left hand rests on his strong arm. Your best friend looks incredibly well in his black tuxedo and with his phantom half mask. It’s rare to see him wearing such a classic outfit. He usually goes with jeans and large shirts.

“Let’s go?” he asks with a growing smile.

You simply nod. This isn’t the type of party you usually go to. Most of the time, it’s just a random party organized by a student, and you’ll get drunk before getting laid. Or you’ll simply get laid. But tonight is different. You’re not even sure what you’re supposed to do or how to act. You don’t envision flirting with someone like you used to at “regular” parties.

As you make your way to the crowd, you text your friend Lena to check where she is. She told you a couple of minutes ago that she was already inside with her boyfriend, Hoseok, and Jin, another friend of yours.

“Lena told me to join her at the bar,” you say to your best friend, your eyes detaching from your phone.

You and Jungkook walk side by side, your feet moving in sync. Strings of colorful lights illuminate the room, but you’re focused on finding the bar. Your fingers tighten around his arm. Not because you might trip or lose your way, but because, for a split second, you’re afraid he might let you go.

When you reach Lena, your face breaks into a real smile, the kind that slips out before you can stop it.

“You both look stunning!” she exclaims, her eyes sparkling beneath her mask.

She throws her arms around you without hesitation, and you laugh as she pulls you into a hug. As her arms slide around your neck, you loosen your grip on Jungkook’s arm. But the absence of this warmth doesn’t go unnoticed. Not by you. And not by him.

“Ready for tonight?” she asks in your ear.

You simply nod while your arms wrap around her waist to hold her close.

“I’ve already noticed some handsome men you might want to end up with tonight,” she whispers.

You chuckle. She always does this when she arrives at a party before you, scouting the room like your personal wingwoman. She knows how you like to flirt with a man or two before settling on the one you’ll take home.

“You’re unbelievable,” you say, shaking your head.

She steps back, meeting your eyes with a grin.

“I’m saving you some time. You’ll find your man quicker.”

“Yn doesn’t need help finding her night companion,” Jungkook says. “Give her ten minutes, and she’ll be whispering the dirtiest things in some poor guy’s ear.”

“Eeeh, like you’re any better,” you try to defend yourself.

“I never claimed otherwise,” he smirks, completely unbothered.

You shake your head; they are both annoying.

Lena leads you through the crowd toward a corner booth glowing under soft string lights. Jin and Hoseok are already there, drinks in hand, their laughter spilling over the music. You greet them with easy smiles, sliding into the seat beside Lena. A couple of minutes later, more familiar faces join you. Taehyung, Jimin, and Mara, Taehyung’s girlfriend.

The table fills quickly with chatter and laughter, a rhythm you know well. You let yourself lean into it—the comfort of inside jokes, the clinking of glasses, the way someone’s always teasing someone else. Being with your friends always warms your heart. It feels like time completely stops when you’re with them.

A few guys glance your way. One even makes a move to approach. But you don’t engage. Not because no one’s attractive. Not because you don’t know how. You just don’t feel like it. Your attention stays anchored at the table, where the people know you, where nothing feels like a game.

And somehow, that’s enough tonight. More than enough. The idea of flirting, of peeling yourself open for a stranger, even just for fun, feels tiring in a way you can’t explain. So instead, you laugh at Jin’s stupid jokes. You steal a sip from Jimin’s drink to hear him complain. You keep catching Jungkook’s eye across the table for half a second too long. And then you look away.

Before you even have the time to process, Jungkook is standing next to you, his hand on the small of your back, his lips close to your ear.

“Would you like to dance with me?” he proposes.

A smile appears on your face, your eyes meeting his. You nod, but the motion falters when you realize that he’s close. Too close. Close enough that his breath, warm and laced with mint, brushes across your cheek. It catches you off guard, not because Jungkook hasn’t been in your space before, but because this time, it feels different.

Your heart beats extremely fast in your chest, and you swear you can feel your cheeks burning. But you brush everything away as he guides you to the dance floor, where tons of students are dancing like the night is still young.

Soon enough, you’re both dancing in the middle of the crowd, your gaze locked on his. The world around you completely disappears. There’s only you and Jungkook. You dance like you always do. Like two crazy kids. Nothing makes real sense, but it does to you and him. You giggle when he does silly moves.

This isn’t something new. You always dance with Jungkook at a party. You always enjoy each other's company before finding somebody to spend the night with.

When the music changes to Die for You by The Weeknd, the entire mood shifts in the room, especially between you and Jungkook. Neither of you moves. You simply stand there, in front of each other, and caught in each other’s gaze like the song was meant for this exact second.

Just as you start to turn, deciding to go back to the table with your friends before things get too heavy. Jungkook’s hand wraps gently around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. When you turn around, your eyes meet his intense gaze. Your heartbeat increases drastically when you realize how close you are.

Your eyes look down for a second at his lips, his hot breath brushing against your cheek. His hand places yours on his shoulder, bringing you even closer to him. His other hand finds its way to the small of your back, pressing your body against his.

“What are you doing?” you ask with a shaky voice.

“Dancing with you,” he replies, his dark eyes staring deep into yours.

His body starts to sway, quietly inviting yours to follow him. Your gaze never leaves his as you let him guide you, your steps syncing instinctively with his. The bass pulses beneath your feet like a shared heartbeat. You don’t speak; there’s no need to.

His hand finds your waist, light at first, then firmer as you settle into the rhythm together. His chest nearly brushes yours with each slow step, and his thumb traces the fabric of your dress like he’s memorizing it. And your heart hammers.

You can smell the same familiar scent he always wears, but tonight, it hits differently. Tonight, it feels dangerous.

He leans in, just barely, his mouth near your ear.

“Still want to walk away?” he murmurs, voice low and almost smug.

You exhale, shaky but defiant. You swallow with difficulty as you realize who you have in front of you. You have the flirtatious version of your best friend. The guy who flirts with any girl he meets. But this guy, you never got to meet him because there was only friendship between you.

Tonight, everything is different. You noticed it the second you stepped out of your room. You noticed it when his eyes devoured you back at your shared apartment. You noticed it when you did the same. Tonight, there’s an unexplained longing between you. You ignore where this comes from, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him to be your night companion.

“Maybe I just needed a reason to stay.”

His eyes say more than words ever could. They are locked on yours like you’re the only thing that exists. He wants you. Desperately. He craves you with his entire soul. And he doesn’t mind as well if you’re his night companion this evening.

And from the way your pulse jumps, the way you look at him, he knows. He knows that you want this too. His hand shifts, his fingers grazing your waist. A light touch, but enough to send a wave of heat through you. Your breath catches. And he notices. Of course he does.

Then, that slow and wicked smirk of his forms. The one that screams trouble. The one he gives to his flirts. The one that usually makes you laugh because it was never meant for you. But now, it doesn’t make you laugh. It makes you weak. It makes you an easy prey for him.

“And what’s that reason?” he murmurs, leaning in, voice thick with heat and tease. “Is it the suit?” he pauses. “I noticed the way you looked at me at home.”

You slowly slide a finger along the lapel of his jacket. You’re trying to hide the fact that this man right here is making it difficult for you to remain composed. How can you resist him? Honestly, now you understand why there isn’t a single woman who can resist his charms. You used to make fun of them, but now, you understand them.

“Should I remind you of the way you looked at me?” your voice is also filled with heat and tease.

He leans in. Closer. His lips hover just beside your cheek, near your ear, but he doesn’t touch.

“I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as you,” he confesses.

Your fingers move down, tracing now invisible circles on his chest while your bodies keep moving at the music’s rhythm.

“Such cheesy words,” you reply, a smirk arising on your face. “That’s what I deliver to the men I want in between my legs.”

Jungkook’s lips curl into a mischievous smile, his eyes darkening even more.

“Maybe that’s what I want.”

This makes you go still. Although it’s written all over his face that it’s what he wants, hearing it out loud makes it real. And if this is real, it means your friendship will never be the same anymore. It means that you’ve ruined the friendship. There won’t be any coming back after this night. You won’t even be able to blame it on the alcohol. You barely drank anything.

The music continues around you, bodies moving on every side, but your world has narrowed down to him. His breath. His stare. The way his hand flexes, like he’s seconds from pulling you in. Jungkook doesn’t hesitate a second when the next words leave his lips.

“Say the word,” he breathes. “And I’m yours tonight.”

You don’t say anything for a moment, trying to process what he just said and what is happening. Your fingers resume brushing over his strong chest. Both your hearts are beating extremely fast. If you say yes, you’ll both leave this place and go to yours to have the most mind-blowing sex ever.

“You already are,” you whisper, your eyes dropping to your fingers playing on his chest. “You became mine the second your eyes devoured me back at home.”

Jungkook freezes entirely, as if he fears that moving too quickly will ruin the moment. His breath catches, and for a heartbeat, he doesn’t speak. He just stares at you, like he’s seeing something he’s wanted for far too long.

Then, slowly, his eyes flick to your lips. And when they return to yours, when he sees you looking at his mouth, not pulling away, not breathing, that’s all the permission he needs.

His hand slides to the side of your face, fingers brushing your jaw with aching care. And then, he crashes into you. His lips find yours in a kiss that’s not soft or tentative. It’s fierce. Hungry. The kind of kiss that comes from too many stolen glances.

You answer it instantly, hands fisting in his jacket, body leaning into him like you’ve been waiting forever. His other hand finds your waist, pulling you flush against him like he wants to feel every part of you.

You gasp when his teeth graze your lower lip, and he takes that moment to deepen the kiss, his tongue sweeping in. This is overwhelming. Way too overwhelming. Jungkook is by far one of the best kissers you’ve got to meet. His lips are addicting, and his touch is fire. You don’t want to let go. You don’t want to ever let go of him.

Although this is overwhelming, it’s not enough.

A little moan escapes your mouth as the kiss gets more and more desperate. A moan that Jungkook swallows. It’s getting clear that you crave more than just a kiss. It’s clear you want him between your legs.

And before you start to give too much of a show, you break apart. You’re both breathless, foreheads resting together, and chests pressed together. Neither of you speaks at first. The only sound is the distant throb of music from inside and the rush of blood in your ears.

Jungkook’s thumb brushes your cheek slowly and tenderly. A sharp contrast to the fire in his kiss. Amidst this overwhelming desire, it’s remarkable that he manages to be gentle.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he whispers.

Your eyes take him in for a moment. His eyes are filled with lust, his lips are swollen, and his breathing is erratic. Your lips get closer, brushing against his, but you don’t kiss him. Not yet.

“Why?” you whisper.

“We’re friends,” he instantly answers.

Jungkook is trying to resist the urge to kiss you once more. His entire soul wants to do it, but he isn’t sure if he should.

“It’s too late now,” your tongue tards out to lick his lower lip. “We have already ruined our friendship.”

Your eyes never leave his. Although desire is written all over his face, there’s also worry. He’s worried about losing you, but now, no matter what happens, it’s already too late. He’ll lose you if he chooses to.

“I’m all yours tonight, Jungkook.”

He doesn’t respond right away. He simply stares at you like you’ve knocked the air out of his lungs. Like he’s not sure he heard you right. His hand, which was resting on your waist, pulls you in closer, pressing your body even more against his.

“Say it again,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your cheek before going down to your jaw and throat.

“I’m all yours,” you repeat, softer this time.

As he hears your words, he lets out a low, shaky breath against your skin. It sounds like half a groan and half a surrender.

“Let’s get out of here before I rip this dress off you,” he mumbles as he presses a gentle kiss on the crook of your neck.

“We need to tell our friends,” you tell him as you take a step back. “Lena will get worried if I disappear just like that.”

“Okay,” he nods.

You both head back to the table, your fingers entwined together as you navigate through the heavy crowd. The second your eyes notice Lena, you let go of Jungkook’s hand. Somehow, you don’t want her to understand what’s going on between the two of you. You know she’ll dissuade you from doing it, and you don’t want it.

“We’re leaving,” you basically scream in her ear.

“Getting bored?” she asks.

You nod. What you ignore at that moment is that she saw everything. She saw the way you danced, the way you kissed, and the way you almost fucked each other in the middle of the crowd. But she isn’t going to say anything. She’s just surprised this moment didn’t happen earlier. A fuckboy and a fuckgirl living under the same roof, it was honestly bound to explode at some point.

“Text me when you’re at home,” she asks, although she’s certain you won’t do it, too busy to get railed by Jungkook.

“Can you let the others know?” Jungkook asks her.

She nods, and you both leave in a hurry. Jungkook drives as fast as he can, your heartbeats going crazy and your bodies aching for each other like never before. This new sensation is scary, but also so damn good at the same time.

The moment the door to your apartment shuts behind you, Jungkook pushes you against it, his forehead pressed to yours, both of you breathless, like you ran the whole way there, which isn’t far from the truth.

“You sure?” he whispers, his hand finding yours again, grounding himself in your skin.

You nod, not needing words, because tonight, nothing’s uncertain anymore. Tonight, you want him, not a stranger.

“Absolutely,” you answer.

Your lips press hard against his, your hands move to his head to cup his face. You bite his lips lightly, so he opens his mouth, and your tongue finds his quickly. You passionately kiss each other while you’re pressed against the entrance door. Not the way you picture things, but having his lips on yours feels like a dream.

When you break the kiss, you take his mask off to get a better view of his face. Following your lead, he removes yours. And just like that, there’s nothing left to hide behind. No mystery, no playful distance.

Just him. Just you. Bare and exposed in the soft light, no excuses or costumes between you anymore.

His gaze lingers on your face like he’s memorizing the version of you he knows best. The one without masks, without armor. Then, gently, he leans in and presses a quick kiss to your lips. Not hungry. Not desperate. Just soft and certain. And your heart stumbles in your chest.

“Much better,” you whisper as you take him in without the mask.

A slow smile curves his lips, like he’s about to do or say something reckless. And he is. Without giving you a second to breathe, he leans in and crashes his mouth against yours again. His hand cups your jaw firmly, grounding you as his lips move against yours.

When your mouth parts in a soft gasp, his thumb is already there, brushing your bottom lip before gently tugging it down. A low sound rumbles in his chest as he deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue inside like he owns the right to.

You melt into him, fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer—closer than you should. But right now, there’s no space between you. No masks. No rules. Just heat and need.

His hands hold you tight against him as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear. This kiss is desperate and wild, but so desperately wanted. When he pulls back, you’re both breathless, and his dark eyes lock with yours. Your hands remain fisted on his shirt.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he murmurs, his fingers leaving your body to gently caress your cheek.

“Wait till you see me without this dress,” you whisper, your eyes never looking away.

“Can’t wait,” he smirks.

He presses a quick kiss on your lips, his hand moving to your back to pull you closer so you can feel his growing desire against your belly. You instantly moan at the sensation. Man, you’re desperate to feel him.

“I can see that,” you mumble against his lips.

Before you can comprehend what’s going on, Jungkook drags you to his bedroom, closing the door behind him. There’s absolutely no need to do it, but in some way, it makes this moment even more intimate. It doesn’t feel like you’re about to have sex with some random guy you met a couple of hours ago.

This is your best friend.

He’s the only man you ever trusted, apart from your father. You’d give him anything, even your heart, if he asked. You’d even let him break your heart.

His mouth finds yours for another kiss while your fingers find their way to his hair to play with it. The kiss quickly deepens, leaving no room for doubt about what is about to happen. His fingers move to the straps of your dress.

“Undress for me, baby,” he commands.

You nod, then reach for the side zipper, taking all your time to remove the dress to give this man a little show. The fabric slides down your body and pools around your feet, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. The second you unveil your body, you notice his jaw flexing.

“Fuck,” he swears in his breath. “You’re no joke.”

“Told you,” you smirk and wink at him.

Jungkook has already seen you like this before at the pool, in summer clothes, and lounging around the apartment, and it never seemed to faze him. But right now, with the way he’s so desperate to touch you, his eyes look at you very differently. His eyes are full of hunger and are looking at you intensely.

You’re not just attractive. You’re irresistible.

He bites his lower lip while his hungry eyes roam over your body. You’re a fucking dream. He wonders how on earth this didn’t happen before.

“Sit on the bed,” he instructs.

You follow his instructions, sitting at the edge of the bed. The man kneels before you, his hands spreading your legs to give him a view of your core. His face gets closer to your thigh, pressing a featherlight kiss on it. His warm lips move up, getting dangerously close to your wet core. His breath is hot against your skin, which sends shivers down your spine. Jungkook stops when he reaches your clothed core.

His fingers hook beneath the waistband of your underwear, slowly pushing the fabric down. He takes his time, while his eyes are locked with yours. He’s so hot, no doubt that he can easily get any girl he wants at his feet.

And yet, he’s here. With you.

It’s wild to think about it. You’ve known each other for years, and he’s been your go-to person for everything. When you were sad, he’d bring you food and sit in silence beside you until you were ready to talk. When you were bored, he’d annoy you on purpose. You always felt safe around him because he’d let everything down when you needed him. He’d drop any girl he’d be flirting with if you called him.

You’re not supposed to be here, your legs spread with his head so fucking close to your core. You’re not supposed to be ruining the friendship. You’re not supposed to sleep together.

But who cares? You both want this.

And it leaves you wondering. Was there something stronger all those years beneath the friendship? What if you always loved each other? What if this was supposed to happen?

All your thoughts are pushed away when your hungry eyes look down at the man so damn close to your core.

Jungkook leans back in. His lips graze your skin as he presses another kiss to the inside of your thigh, the warmth of his breath brushing over you and making your muscles tense.

“You’re so pretty, baby,” he mumbles more to himself than for you. “The prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” his eyes meet yours again.

For a second, his gaze moves down to your core. Jungkook has seen many of them in his life, and although he found them all appealing, yours is even prettier. And he’s so damn excited to taste you. His hard dick is the proof of it.

His fingers dig into your hips, holding you firmly in place as his lips finally taste you without hesitation. Jungkook initially teases you, his eyes looking up at you to catch your reaction. A smirk grows on his face when you arch your back and moan. This is exactly what he wanted.

Without wasting more time, his lips seal around your sensitive bundle of nerves. A strangled gasp escapes your mouth as pleasure takes over you. Your eyes look down at the man pleasuring you. It’s a fucking sight you never imagined you’d ever witness in your entire life. He’s eating you out like a starving man.

“Fuck,” you moan.

As you moan, he can’t help but moan back. He loves hearing you moan, especially knowing it’s because of him this time. He’s heard you before, but those moans were for other men. It might sound weird to think that he already heard you moan, but it isn’t for him. You’ve both brought many night companions home, and let’s just say, the walls are thin.

The vibration of his voice sends a wave of pleasure straight through your body. Your hips buck forward, pushing his face closer, and your fingers find their way to his hair as a trail of moans falls from your lips.

His mouth works you over with hunger, tongue torturing you like never before while his lips seal around your clit. His nose presses into you, dragging against your cunt with each movement.

Your eyes flutter shut as you enjoy every second of his mouth on your pussy. You throw your head back while moans flow out of your mouth. The growing pleasure is overwhelming but in a fantastic way, and your body trembles beneath his relentless tongue.

Jungkook is savoring every second, and if he could, he’d make the whole world hear you moan. A satisfied hum vibrates against you, sending shocks through your core, and when your fingers tighten in his hair, he takes it as encouragement, deepening his devotion, and pushing you further.

“Oh, Jungkook,” you moan.

The way you say his name makes him grow harder in his pants.

“Tell me, baby,” his eyes look up at you.

“I’m gonna cum,” you manage to say between moans.

Before you even realize it, your orgasm violently hits you, your legs shaking, and your walls clenching around emptiness. Even though you’re coming hard against his lips, Jungkook doesn’t stop lapping at your juices falling all over his tongue. He savors every drop because damn, he’s never tasted something as addicting as you.

You can tell without any doubt that this man is the first one to eat out dreamily. Many guys did it before him, and a lot of them were great, but Jungkook surpasses them all. For sure, his experience with girls is a plus right now.

Once you come down from your high, he pulls away. His face glistens with your slick, his lips swollen, and his eyes dark with hunger. Jungkook stands up, a bright smile on his face, before he pushes down his pants and boxers. A sigh of relief leaves his lips the second his cock is finally free. It was getting pretty painful to keep it inside his pants.

You lean back as you hold yourself with your upper arms, your eyes hungrily admiring the man who his stripping for you.

“Already hard?” your eyes look up to meet his.

Jungkook gives you a little show while he removes every piece of his black tuxedo. Your eyes admire the way his muscles flex. You’ve already seen him with only is underwear on, but this time, you can’t help but find him so damn attractive. Suddenly, his tattooed arm becomes a massive turn-on.

“You taste like heaven. I could come in my pants while only eating you out,” he admits.

Once he’s fully naked, his right hand finds its way to his cock, stroking himself. He’s not even sure he’ll last long. His grip tightens around his cock, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You’ve a pretty cock,” you wink at him. “No wonder every girl wants to take a ride,” you tease him.

Jungkook has quite a slightly bigger dick than average. You’ve seen many cocks of all sorts. Big, thick, small, long, and tiny. Jungkook’s dick is of average length, but he’s a bit thicker. But over the years, you’ve come to realize that the size isn’t what truly matters.

What matters is how the guy uses it, and also all the other aspects of a sexual moment. There’s the flirting, the teasing, the oral sex. And for you, that is what makes sex better.

“Of course, what did you think?” he answers. “There wouldn’t be this fuss if it were tiny.”

You shake your head with a smile on your face.

“Now it’s your time to take a ride,” he winks at you.

He gets closer to you, his free hand gently pushing you down on the mattress of his bed. And then, his lips crash against yours while his hand leaves his cock so he can cup your face. His body presses flush against yours, heat radiating between your bodies as he deepens the kiss.

When you break the kiss, he opens the drawer of his nightstand to grab a condom. Even though he’d like to really feel you, it’s better to use protection. Let’s avoid getting you pregnant. He knows you’re not on the pill, you never liked it, but you keep good track of your cycle. And he knows you’re on your ovulation period; you told him this morning.

Once the condom is fully on his cock, he holds you open as he guides the head of his cock into your sopping entrance. For a moment, he teases you first, dragging the tip through your slick folds, spreading your arousal before finally pushing in with a slow, deliberate thrust.

A deep moan leaves your throat as he stretches you open. Your walls clench around him as his dick makes his way inside your pussy. Your back instantly arches, your thighs trembling around his waist as he buries himself deeper.

“Fuck,” he mumbles the second he looks down, watching the way your body takes him in.

Neither of you expected how incredible it would feel to be connected like this. Jungkook pushes himself further until he bottoms out. The second he’s fully inside, he halts to give you both a moment to adjust.

Having him still inside you is torture. You can’t handle staying like this, you need him to move and fuck you like there’s no tomorrow.

“Jungkook, move please,” you beg him.

“As you wish, baby,” he teases as he slowly pulls back.

He pauses for a second when only the thick head of his cock remains inside. Without any warning, he pushes back. Feeling his thick shaft pushing deeply back into you is beyond satisfying. Damn, it even makes you see stars. Both of you moan loudly as he starts pounding into you. This man right here just knows how to screw you.

Throughout the past few years, you’ve gotten to taste different dicks. Usually, they knew how to use it; some were really bad, but Jungkook surpasses them all by far. And it’s only the beginning. You don’t want to imagine how you’ll feel when you come around his thick shaft.

His pace is restless, and his hands grip your waist tightly. The room quickly gets filled with the slick sound of your moans, of the headboard hitting the wall, and of your bodies slapping together. The heat builds in your core as he slams into you, filling you completely with each thrust.

Your hands grip the sheets as hard as possible to steady yourself from Jungkook’s hard thrusts. His lips meet yours for a sloppy kiss while his thrusts grow rougher and quicker.

The familiar coil of pleasure tightens in your stomach while he moans your name. Hearing him pronounce your name this way feels wonderful. You’ve already heard him moaning a lot of times, but now that you’re the reason behind it, it tastes wonderful.

Jungkook is getting more and more lost in his pleasure. The only thing you’re both focused on now is chasing your high, and the heat between you is unbearable. You both know you won’t be lasting much longer.

“I’m not going to last much longer,” you manage to say, the desperation filling your voice.

His cock twitches inside you at your words, and well, that action causes your orgasm to crash over you. When your orgasm hits you completely and violently, your walls squeeze him tightly. Jungkook groans when he feels your wall clenching around his cock.

His thrusts get more desperate as he chases his own high. He’s so fucking close. Jungkook closes his eyes because the simple view of your face contorting with pleasure is just too much. Your walls keep tightening around him, a torture you impose him to help him cum.

“Fuck,” he groans.

And then, with one last thrust, he falls apart. Deep groans fall from his lips as he releases his hot semen inside the condom. His hands tighten around your waist, holding you still while he releases himself. He looks incredibly sexy when the orgasm hits him. Jungkook collapses next to you in bed.

For a moment, neither of you speaks, both trying to catch your breath. Your eyes are completely shut, while his are fixed on the ceiling of his bedroom. Slowly, he removes the condom, makes a knot, and throws it in the trash.

“Let’s take a shower,” he tells you as he stands up.

You open your eyes to be greeted with his sweet face. He looks adorable with his big doe eyes. How can a man looks so cute after fucking the shit out of you? And to think that this is what all the other girls got to see.

Jungkook offers you his hand to help you stand up, and you gladly take it. His fingers intertwine with yours while he guides you to your shared bathroom. You shower in silence, your arms wrapped around his body with your head pressed against his chest. You only focus on his heartbeat while the water falls over your bodies.

You try to push away all the questions that start to arise in your mind, but it’s hard to suppress them. What will happen now that you broke all the rules of friendship? Will you pretend that nothing ever happened? Or will you keep fucking around?

You’ll have to wait until tomorrow to have the answers to your questions. For now, you just want to stay in this little bubble.

When Jungkook wakes up, he realizes that you’re not in the bed. He instantly imagines that you might have gone to the bathroom or might be in the living room or something like that. But when he doesn’t find you in the apartment, he finds it weird. Where could you be?

By instinct, he calls you several times, but you don’t pick up. He’s starting to worry about you. You’ve never disappeared like this. Well, he can’t say that you never did it because it’s the first time you shared an intimate moment.

He tries to tell himself you had something urgent, or maybe just needed space. But the silence on the other end of the phone, the absence of a note, a message, or anything, feels too familiar. Too final.

A heavy weight settles in his chest as he walks into the apartment, running a hand through his hair. He frowns as he wonders why you left without a word. He gets back to his bedroom and sits on the edge of the bed. He glances at the rumpled sheets, still warm from where you lay hours ago. The echo of your laughter, your breath, the way your fingers clung to his skin, it’s all still there, as vivid as a memory can be.

But you’re not.

Jungkook exhales sharply, frustrated by the ache creeping up his chest. Last night didn’t feel like something casual, at least not to him. You looked at him like he mattered, like it was more, like it meant something.

So why does this feel like goodbye?

He stands up and starts pacing the apartment, checking again the kitchen, the balcony, even the laundry room. Maybe you just went out for coffee? But your keys are gone. Your coat too. He notices it now. A pit opens in his stomach.

And then, it hits him.

You’ve done to him what you do with the others. You slept with him and now, you ran away before he even got to wake up. It hurts him that you saw last night as a one-night stand because he loved every second of it. He wouldn’t have flirted with you if he didn’t enjoy it. But somehow, deep down, he hoped this wouldn’t be a one-time thing.

He secretly hoped for more.

“Fuck,” he mumbles to himself before collapsing on the couch.

Then, his phone starts buzzing and he quickly grabs it, hoping it’d be you. However, his hopes are broken when his friend’s name shows up.

“Hi Tae,” he says when picking up.

“Hi Kook,” he says. “How was last night with yn?”

Jungkook instantly freezes.

“How…” he begins, but his friend interrupts him.

“We all saw it,” he answers. “Man, you were kissing her like a starving man in the middle of the dance floor. And then, you left with her so no need to be a genius to know you fucked her.”

Jungkook groans while rubbing his face. This is what he wanted to avoid. He’s frustrated because you left him like a dirty sock, and all your friends saw you last night. They will for sure tease the two of you forever with that. And he knows that things have forever changed. Nothing will ever be the same now.

“Yeah, we did it,” he admits without really answering the question. “But let’s forget it.”

“Why?” his friend sounds confused.

“She was just a booty call.”

At that exact moment, you walk into the apartment with the brightest smile on your face, and with some pastries in your hands, but when you hear your best friend’s words, your entire world falls apart.

How can he say that? Why is he even saying it?

You thought last night meant something, that he enjoyed it, but after all, he seemed not to reciprocate. And it hurts.

“So you’re telling me you two just hooked up for fun?” his voice cuts in, sharp with disbelief. “There were hundreds of people you could have slept with, Jungkook! Why her?”

Taehyung sounds angry, and honestly? He should be. Jungkook should never have touched you, not like that. Now everything blew up, and he’s never going to be able to look at you without feeling a bit of pain.

Yeah, the sex was great. Actually, more than great, but the aftermath isn’t.

“Look, I don’t know,” Jungkook admits. “She was there, I knew I could have her, so I did.”

“For fuck’s sake, Jungkook,” he swears under his breath. “Friends don’t do that even if they are into casual shit.”

Jungkook perfectly knows that he screwed up, but he didn’t expect the fallout to feel this awful. He thought maybe, somehow, everything would go back to normal. But he was dead wrong.

Jungkook’s words hit you harder than you expected. Sleeping with him was different than with any other guy. But now? He proved to you that he’s just like every other guy. Only thinking with his dick. Taking what he wants and moving on without a second thought.

And just like that, ten years of friendship feel like they’re cracking under the weight of one moment, one mistake, he can’t take back.

You disappear into your room to do something you never did before. Crying over a man. But you promise yourself that it’ll be the first and last time.

A week later

Things with Jungkook have gotten worse. You’re not able to speak without fighting and insulting him, but you know that’s because you’re hurt. You never imagined your friendship going down this badly. You always loved him, you still do, but he hurt you like nobody else ever did.

“Jungkook!” you scream as you pound on the bathroom door.

The man has been inside for like an hour. You need to take a shower before going out. You’re going to a party with your friends, and Jungkook will also be there, but who cares? You’ll only get there to find your night companion, and forget about what Jungkook did to you.

“I need to shower!” you continue.

“Not my problem,” he shouts.

You roll your eyes, but there’s no way you’re going to wait any longer. You take the spare key before opening the door and storming into the room. Jungkook is fully naked, but you couldn’t care less. For a moment, your eyes quickly scan him. He’s still incredibly hot.

“Leave,” you order flatly.

“No,” he shoots back without missing a beat.

You let out a heavy sigh, growing increasingly annoyed by this man's attitude. This man’s been testing every ounce of your patience since that night. You swear, if he keeps this up, you might actually smack that smug face of his.

“Dickhead,” you spit.

“You should find another nickname,” he says, unfazed. “You’ve been calling me that for a week now.”

You roll your eyes.

“Asshole. Is that better?” you say, crossing your arms against your chest.

“Slight improvement,” he smirks.

“Now, if you would kindly get the fuck out of this room, asshole, that’d be great,” you emphasize on ‘asshole’.

“I already told you, no,” he replies while applying moisturizer to his face.

You throw your arms up.

“Okay, fine,” you say.

Instead of making him leave, you turn the water on and undress. There’s no way you’ll wait any longer because he’s decided to ruin your life. He has already seen you naked, so no need to be shy around him.

Jungkook’s eyes widen, not expecting this at all, but he doesn’t move. His eyes even dare to stare at your body, one that has been driving him crazy for a week. He’s stopped counting the times he’s been stroking his dick while thinking of you.

“Didn’t know you were desperate to let me fuck you again,” he teases you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble while shaking your head. “Only in your dreams, idiot.”

“Wow, another cute nickname,” he pretends to be excited. “You’ve improved in the span of five minutes. I’m proud of you, yn.”

You roll your eyes, not caring at all about his stupid words. You get inside the shower and clean yourself while Jungkook is still in the bathroom. He doesn’t move, continuing to get ready for tonight’s party. This is the first party since you fucked, and even though he wished things were different, he will do everything in his power to at least come back home with a random chick to forget about last week.

After the shower and getting dressed, you wait for Lena to come and pick you up. She knows about this damn tension between you, and she isn’t really happy about it. She’s mainly sad that your ten-year friendship with Jungkook got blown up because of sex.

For now, and until you patch things up with him, she’ll gladly pick you up. She’ll also do everything in her power to get things back to how they were. So, she’ll push you to sleep with random guys. She believes it’s the only way to make you forget that night.

Lena arrives around 10 pm and drives you to the party. Jungkook left with Taehyung in order to avoid being with you in the car. There’s no way he’s staying around you tonight. He wants to dance, get drunk, and have sex.

“How are things going at home?” she asks while driving.

“As long as I don’t see him, fine,” you reply.

“If it’s too much, you can come to mine for a while. I wouldn’t mind,” her eyes quickly leave the road to look at you. “My parents would also be happy to have you around.”

“I’m not going to leave because of him,” you mutter. “If he’s not happy, he can leave. I’m not holding him hostage.”

She shakes her head.

“For how long will you keep acting like that?”

“Until he stops being a jerk.”

Lena really doesn’t understand how things went this wrong. You both said it was a one-night stand, but you’ve been acting like it wasn’t. You’ve been acting like you’re both hurt. She’ll try to help as much as she can, but you both need to solve your problems. Otherwise, it’ll just blow up one day, and it’ll be bad.

“I never imagined you’d ever call him a jerk,” she tries to lighten the mood. “It’s so weird.”

“Me neither,” you mumble to yourself. “Let’s not speak about him anymore. I want to party and have fun.”

She simply nods, and you talk about something completely different for the rest of the drive. You quickly reach the house where the party is taking place. There are already many people. Most of them are already completely wasted. They most probably drank before joining the party. People do that a lot.

You and Lena make your way inside the house while you hold each other's hands. Hoseok, her boyfriend, isn’t coming because he’s sick. He hasn’t been feeling well for the past two days, but he still encouraged her to join the party.

As you walk, your eyes instinctively look for Jungkook. It’s a habit anchored in yourself so deep that even if you’re on bad terms today, you still do it. Very quickly, you find his broad back. Even from behind he looks great, and fuck, you wish he could be protecting you from the crowd while whispering the dirtiest shit in your ear.

There’s absolutely no way you’ll survive this party without this deep desire to spread your legs for him once more.

Easily, you find Mara. Obviously, she’s with Tae, her boyfriend. Jin and Jimin are also with them, and you greet them all. Nobody says a damn thing about you and Jungkook which is honestly a relief for you.

However, as much as you love them, you want to get ruined tonight, so you try to look for a man. In a matter of seconds, you find one who’s hungrily looking at you.

“This is my guy,” you tell them. “See you tomorrow, guys!” You wave your hand before walking to this hot and sexy guy. Unfortunately, he isn’t as sexy as your infamous roommate.

“Stop thinking about him!” you mumble to yourself. “You’re not going anywhere like that…”

When you reach the guy and start talking to him, you feel burning eyes on your body. For a moment, you ignore it, but at some point, you turn your head. Your eyes instantly meet Jungkook’s. They are dark as hell, and a smirk arises on your face before you throw a middle finger at him.

Then, you resume flirting with the guy and start to dance to the loud music. As you move your body around him, your eyes are glued on Jungkook. Just like the girl grinding her ass against his hips, you do the same with the random guy you’re with. That position makes you face your roommate.

This is dirty and wild.

The man behind you is long forgotten. Your entire focus is on Jungkook, and nobody else. You keep dancing and drinking. The guy behind you sometimes whispers dirty words into your ear, but you barely register them. He doesn’t even seem to realize that you don’t give a shit about him.

His hands slide on your hips, bringing you closer to him and making you feel his growing erection. You almost moan when you feel it, since your mind actually imagines it being Jungkook. Jungkook’s eyes get darker, and he swears he was about to moan when he notices your fucked up state. You both crave each other in an unhealthy way, but you perfectly know that nothing is going to happen. At least not tonight.

You both know you'll end up sleeping with the person you're dancing with, even though your minds will be somewhere else. You'll be thinking about each other, about how good it felt when your bodies were connected. You'll remember the moans, the whimpers, the way you came undone together. You'll be replaying every moment, every touch, every gasp. Because the sex wasn’t just great, it was unforgettable.

Tonight, none of you felt like bringing someone to your place. So you had sex in this exact house, in the bathrooms, to be more precise. It was great, but it couldn’t compare to how it felt last week. You know nothing will ever come close to the way you felt with each other.

Two weeks later

For the past two weeks, things have been getting more intense with your roommate. You’ve been avoiding each other at all costs at home. You’d both prefer being out than inside. The casual hookups with random people kept going, just like nothing ever happened.

But it wasn’t true.

Jungkook couldn’t kiss a girl without comparing her to you. You couldn’t open your legs without picturing Jungkook in between them. Every single hookup was a reminder of that night. And because of that, you even increased the number of men you slept with. You just wanted to forget that night and at the same time, relive it all over again.

The worst part was when you’d stumble upon your roommate. You’d fight over silly things, but it was your only way of communicating. Well, it’s still the case. You’re unable to look at this man without wanting to strangle him.

While you’re preparing your breakfast, Jungkook makes his way inside the kitchen. He’s wearing a black t-shirt with a pair of dark blue jeans. His tattoos are on full display, and even though you’re not going to say it out loud, you absolutely like it.

“Will you be home at two?” you ask as he walks past you.

“Why?” he says, opening the fridge and grabbing the milk like he couldn’t care less.

“Some guy is coming,” you answer, your eyes following his strong figure.

You watch his muscles flex as he reaches for a glass. It’s almost unfair how someone so infuriating can look that good. Buff. Strong. Dangerous in all the right ways. If he weren’t such an asshole, you might just let him ruin you again.

“Who?” he asks without looking at you.

“Why do you want to know?” you counter, eyes glued on him.

He avoids your gaze, pouring the milk like the carton suddenly became fascinating.

“Because you’re the one talking about it,” he mumbles

A devious smirk grows on your face as you step closer—dangerously close now. He straightens up, facing you, eyes finally locking with yours.

“Are you looking for a guy?” you ask, cocking your head with a teasing grin.

“What?” his scowl is immediate, and you try as hard as possible to repress the smile growing on your face.

You almost laugh at his expression. It’s ridiculous how easy it is to rile him up. But you hold it in. No cracks. Not yet. You're about to push him further. Annoying him is your new favorite pastime.

“I didn’t know you were gay,” you tease him.

Thank God he wasn’t drinking his milk. Otherwise, he would have choked. His brows draw together, clearly caught off guard.

“I’m not gay,” he says flatly, casually even, but his tone is clipped.

“Jungkook,” you shrug innocently. “You can be whoever you want. I support you, bestie.”

He rolls his eyes and drinks a sip of milk from the cup. Despite being annoyed, his heart skips a beat when you call him ‘bestie’. He hasn’t heard that nickname since that infamous night. You’ve called him jerk, asshole, idiot, stupid, fuckboy, dickhead, and many other things like that for the past three weeks.

“Why are you insisting?”

A little mustache of milk forms on his upper lip when he removes the cup. He looks absolutely adorable, like a little boy trapped in the body of a man who could destroy you with a single touch.

“Because I get it,” you smile. “I like men too.”

He wipes the milk mustache off with the back of his hand, but this time, the playful glint in his eyes disappears. He’s serious now.

“Stop it, yn,” his voice is sharp, like a warning. “You know I don’t like men.”

“Me?” you pretend to be innocent. “I don’t know anything. You’re very mysterious lately.”

Without a warning, he steps closer—your heart hammers in your chest with this sudden proximity. The air thickens between you, and you feel his hot and minty breath against your cheek. This reminds you of that wild night in the ballroom

“Yes, you do,” he whispers, voice dropping into something husky. His lips graze your ear. “And if you’ve forgotten, I can remind you.”

His fingers brush your cheek, sending shivers down your spine.

“I can make you moan my name again…” he pauses for a split second. “Or scream it, if you’d prefer.”

He tilts your face toward his, gaze locked on yours—intense, unreadable, and full of heat. He’s daring you to push back, to test him again. Your breath hitches.

Is he serious right now? Or just playing another dangerous game?

You don’t get the chance to answer because suddenly, Lena pops up in the kitchen.

“Yn!” she screams cheerfully, unaware of the storm she just walked into.

Jungkook instantly steps back, reaching for his glass of milk like it’s some sort of shield. He takes a sip, pretending he has been drinking it all this time. But his eyes remain on you like he’s unwilling to break whatever had just almost happened.

Lena pauses, her gaze flickering between the two of you. She’s not stupid. She saw how close your faces were. She saw the heat. And above anything else, she can feel the heavy tension in the air.

“Seems like…” she stutters, clearly caught off guard. “Seems like I interrupted something.”

She half-turns like she’s going to walk back out, giving you and Jungkook some space.

“I’ll leave you two to what you were doing,” she gestures vaguely at the doorway.

“No need,” you answer while never looking away from Jungkook. Your voice is cool, calm, but laced with something pointed. “I was just about to leave.”

You hold his gaze a second longer—daring him to stop you, say something, or do something. But he doesn’t. So you walk away, pulse pounding, and the confused silence trailing behind you. You want to look back, but you don’t dare to do it, knowing perfectly how weak you’d look.

You’re at Mara and Taehyung’s place for a girls' night with Lena and Mara.

Taehyung is out of town, and his girlfriend immediately organized a little pajama party for the three of you. It’s been a while since you haven’t spent some good time with just the two of them. Life always seems so busy between classes and exams.

“So any life updates?” Mara asks.

“Not really,” Lena answers. “With Hobi, we’re considering moving together, but we still need to find something.”

Hoseok and Lena have been together since they were sixteen, so it’s been like five years. They still live at their parents’ houses, but now that you’re all reaching the end of your college years, they’ve been considering moving in together.

“You definitely should!” Mara replies with enthusiasm. “It’s so great.”

She’s been living with Tae for three months now. Since she lives far away from college, she was sleeping in the dorms, but after a while, her boyfriend suggested they could move in together. At first, she was hesitant because they’d been together for like two years. She was scared to move on too fast, but then, she decided to go for it.

“You get to have sex whenever you want,” she wiggles her eyebrows in a teasing way. “And cuddles when you desperately need one.”

“I know, but it makes me nervous, too. Like, my parents will freak out. Jennie is still at home.”

Jennie is her older sister. She’s twenty-six, but she doesn’t seem to want to move out of her parents’ place. Lena always believed the first child should be the first to get married, have children, and move out. Jennie is far away from that. She doesn’t even have a boyfriend yet.

“This is your life, not hers,” you tell her. “If you feel ready to take that huge step with Hobi, then do it. Your parents will understand you, I’m sure of it. You’ve been with him for so long.”

You’ve known her parents since you were a baby. They might appear as strict parents, but they are pretty cool. You don’t doubt they’ll let their daughter move in with her boyfriend. They adore Hobi. Who doesn’t?

“Let’s see,” she mumbles. “I still need to speak with them about it.”

You totally understand her nervousness. You felt the same when you told your parents you’d be moving in with your best friend instead of going to a dorm. They took it well since they already knew Jungkook and appreciated him. You wanted to have a bit more privacy, although back then you weren’t hooking up with random guys. You’d also feel safer coming home to a friend instead of a place full of strangers.

“And you, yn?” Mara looks at you. “Any news from your side?”

“No,” you shake your head without even thinking twice.

Lena chuckles. “No?” she raises an eyebrow. “You’re such a liar, yn.”

You frown with confusion, not understanding what she’s referring to. Is she thinking about one of the many men you slept with? There’s nothing to say about it. You barely remember their names, and you lost track of how many you hooked up with lately.

“I just caught you kissing Jungkook,” she continues.

Your eyes widen while your mouth falls open. Mara starts laughing. She’s surprised it only happened now because the tension between you and Jungkook is thick as fuck. All of your friends noticed how you now “flirt” at parties. They saw how you absolutely don’t give two shits about the person you’re with because you’re both too focused on each other. It’s like you’re flirting through Bluetooth.

“That’s not true,” you reply.

“Not true?” Lena repeats, and you nod.

Well, on this one, Lena is totally wrong. You weren’t kissing Jungkook, but there was no doubt that it would have happened if she hadn’t shown up.

“Aren’t you tired of playing cat and mouse for weeks?” Mara asks.

You take a sip of wine in an attempt to cool down. This is a very sensitive subject. Jungkook makes you feel hot and bothered, especially after the kitchen incident of earlier.

“Something has been going on between you for almost a month,” she adds. “Admit it.”

You try to act like it isn’t true, although you’re dying on the inside.

“Look, I’m just staying because the wine is good,” you inform them before taking a sip.

They chuckle because they know you’re trying to avoid answering them.

“We’ve been tiptoeing around you and Jungkook, but damn, you should fuck again because the tension is unbearable for everybody,” Lena adds.

“And let’s not speak about the flirting at the parties.”

Your eyes widen even more, and you’re sure you’ll die right here with their comments. They laugh even more at your reaction.

“You thought we didn’t notice?” Mara adds. “It’s honestly amusing, even though I feel sorry for the people you use.”

“You’re saying nonsense,” you shake your head while lying to their faces.

“Really?” Lena arches a brow. “Then, at the next party, I don’t want you to eye fucking him.”

“You’re crazy.”

She’s actually not joking.

“I’m serious, yn,” she continues. “Either you stop or you finally flirt with him like a normal person.”

“Okay, I’ll stop it.”

You would rather die than flirt with him, and you’re sure you can go through a party without eye-fucking him. Or at least, you want to convince yourself of that.

The next day

You’re studying in your bedroom for the upcoming exams with some background music. You’re one of those people who cannot study without background noise. It might be weird, but it isn’t for you.

Your entire life, you grew up with constant noise at home. With four brothers, one sister, and a niece, it makes a lot of noise, but you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. The house was so alive with all of you. However, being nine people living together under the same roof also made you move in with Jungkook for your college years.

It wasn’t an easy choice, but it was in your best interests. You constantly miss your family, and sometimes, it feels too quiet. You know that you’re partying because of that. You’re partying to be surrounded by people. Being alone isn’t for you. And that’s also why you have tons of hookups.

The idea of being alone for the rest of your life frightens you more than it should, but you also don’t ever want to be in a relationship. People find it odd because your parents are the perfect example of a successful marriage. They’ve been together since high school, got married after graduating from college, and had their first kid right after. They’ve been together for almost 35 years. It’s a lot.

However, your reason is simple. You’re afraid of falling in love. Your oldest sister, who’s ten years older than you, got into a very toxic relationship when you were still young. She was constantly crying and arguing with her then-boyfriend. He knocked her up at eighteen and disappeared under the excuse that he wasn’t ready to be a father. That broke your heart for her, but at least you got to grow up with a niece. She’s thirteen now, and you absolutely adore her.

Nevertheless, that vision of love showed you how messed up it can be when you fall for the wrong person. Your sister has moved on and is now in a perfectly healthy relationship, but you still don’t want to make the same mistake.

Hooking up makes everything easier. You have sex without any commitment. You take the best without falling in love, and that’s perfectly fine for you. At least, it was until recently.

But right now, with what’s going on with Jungkook, sometimes you wonder if you have feelings for him. You wonder if you’re falling for him, but you brush it off. He’s been your best friend for ten years. You’ve basically known him for half of your life. His friendship has always meant the world to you, but since you’ve broken all the rules of friendship, everything is just so different with him.

And maybe, just maybe, you’re falling for him. Falling very hard.

Honestly, never in your entire life have you imagined yourself developing feelings for him. He was the neighbors’ youngest kid who simply wanted to play with you. Being around him made you genuinely happy. You’d go to school together, come back together, and play in front of the houses while your mothers would speak together.

A day without him felt faded, and it still does.

For ten years, you’ve always been together. There hasn’t been a day when you haven’t seen him. Even now that you hate each other. And you can’t imagine yourself going through a day without seeing him.

Suddenly, the doorbell interrupts your focus, and you stand up. You’re not sure if Jungkook is at home, so it’s best if you go open the door. As you make your way to the entrance, you notice your roommate walking to the door as well.

He’s wearing loose clothes, and somehow, you find him ethereal. His black hair hangs messily, his t-shirt barely hides his tattooed arm, and his black jogging pants suit him perfectly. From afar, you simply admire him. And you wonder how you haven’t ever found him so attractive.

No wonder all the girls want to be seen with him or spend a hot and steamy night with him.

All of a sudden, his face turns, and your eyes meet.

“Did you order something?” he calls out, his tone curt, his jaw tight.

“Mmm yeah,” you respond, trying to remember if you were expecting something today. “Maybe something from Amazon.”

You decide to get closer, next to him. A delivery guy stands awkwardly in the hallway, box in hand, eyes flicking between the two of you. There’s a brief moment of silence, and you don’t really know what to say.

“Who’s the pack for?” Jungkook asks.

The guy turns his head while bringing the box closer to his face.

“Miss yn,” he says, trying to pronounce your name correctly.

“It’s for me.”

Before you even get a chance to grab the package, Jungkook takes it with a quick thank you and shuts the door before the guy can say another word. His eyes land back on you, dark and unamused.

“You’re so fucking rude,” you huff while trying to tear the package from his hand. “And that’s mine.”

But of course, he doesn’t let go. Jungkook is way stronger than you and doesn’t want to give it to you. The package stays firmly in his grip as his dark gaze is on you, causing you to shiver, and instantly, you back off. Even if you like to tease him and all that, you’re not really in the mood for one of your usual verbal duels. Maybe because you’re quite nervous about the upcoming exams.

“Your fucking delivery disturbed me,” he growls.

“I didn’t know something was coming,” you admit.

He shakes his head, and he’s fighting the urge to smile. You’ve always been like this. You order some shit but then forget you did so when it’s delivered, you don’t remember it. But he has to admit that he always enjoyed watching your reaction when you’d unpack the box. You always seem so surprised and happy.

“You never know,” he mumbles. “You order half of Amazon and forget every time.”

“Not my fault,” you shrug like it’s not a big deal.

He rolls his eyes.

“It is,” he shoots back. “Try keeping track of what you buy, maybe?”

“I do as I please,” you tell him. “You’re not my dad.”

“Thank God I’m not,” he says without missing a beat. “No way I could deal with someone like you as my daughter.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you cross your arms while narrowing your eyes.

Jungkook takes a slow, deliberate step closer, and suddenly his presence is overwhelming. His tall, broad frame towers over you, radiating heat and intensity. The space between you evaporates, replaced by a charged stillness that makes your breath catch. His body feels dangerously close, like he’s daring you to move or daring you not to.

“That you’re a pain in the ass.”

“Wrong person,” you roll your eyes. “You’re the asshole here.”

“Oh, we’re back to ‘asshole’?” he smirks. “I thought it was the week of ‘jerk’.”

You take a deep breath, trying to remain calm because you’re so close to snapping his angelic face. He’s so fucking annoying.

“Give me my package,” you say with a sharp voice. “I’m not in the mood to deal with your bullshit today.”

A chuckle escapes his pretty lips.

“Oh, you can’t handle me now?”

His voice drops, and his body remains close. Way too close. You roll your eyes and try to snatch the package, but Jungkook lifts it above his head like you’re a child.

“Jungkook,” you warn.

“What?” he grins, enjoying every second. “If you want your order, you’ll have to come get it.”

“You’re a dick.”

You have zero patience for this. If he doesn’t hand you the package, you’ll just go back to your bedroom and leave him alone.

“Asshole, jerk, and now dick,” he says. “Which one will be next?”

You don’t even try to give him an answer. Instead, you try to reach for the box again, moving closer to him. You can’t possibly be closer to him. Your chest is basically pressed against his while you tiptoe. As much as Jungkook enjoys this proximity, he takes a step back.

“Seriously, give it to me. I’m not in the mood.”

Jungkook takes another step back, but that’s too much. You leave him there, turning your back on him while you walk to your bedroom.

“Keep it,” you scream as you move away from him.

“You’re so sensitive.”

You give him a middle finger before slamming your bedroom door. Jungkook laughs and decides to put the pack down in front of your door.

Two days later

As you’re walking on the campus with Jimin and Lena, you notice Jungkook from afar. He looks busy with some girl, and she’s giggling like a schoolgirl while he’s smiling. Pff, he looks pathetic with her.

When you focus again on your friends, you end up meeting Chris, a cute guy you sometimes speak with. He was in a relationship not so long ago, and you’ve already slept with him once. He’s one of the very few guys you've stayed in touch with. He’s nice and easy to talk to.

“Hi,” he offers you a smile when he’s in front of you.

“Hi, Chris,” you smile back at him.

Your friends greet him as well, and you speak about classes and all that. After a while, Jimin and Lena leave you alone with Chris.

“So how’s life going?” he asks while he resumes walking.

Beyond being cute, Chris is a very handsome guy who happens to hit the gym quite often. He’s well built, and sometimes, you wonder how his ex-girlfriend ever broke up with him. If you were to ever settle down with someone, you might choose him. After Jungkook, your subconscious tells you.

“Fine,” you shrug. “Nothing special has been going on lately.”

“Still partying and hooking up?” he asks.

“Yeah, pretty much,” you nod. “What about you?”

“I’m working hard, trying to hide the heartbreak behind books, but it’s not easy every day. Sometimes, I wish I could be like you, and get my dick wet to forget how I feel,” he confesses.

“A guy like you shouldn’t be hooking up,” you offer him a smile. “You’re the type of guy a woman wants to marry.”

Your words warm his heart.

“And believe me, sleeping with someone doesn’t help with a heartbreak.”

You don’t really know how it feels to be heartbroken, but you know damn well that sex doesn’t make you forget your emotions. Obviously, for a brief moment, you forget about everything, but it’s temporary. That’s why you like it. You don’t commit to anyone. You don’t fall in love. You just get a one-time thing with a guy you’ll forget about the day after.

Chris seems to hesitate about his next words, but you don’t push him. If he doesn’t want to say what’s on his mind, you’re not going to force him.

“Rumors are saying something is going on between you and Jungkook.”

For a moment, you close your eyes. You can’t believe people are already speculating about what’s going on between you.

“How?” you ask.

“Apparently, he was with a girl at a party. She was having fun with him, but she noticed he’d never look at her. He was looking at you and you were looking at him too with burning desire,” he explains.

Fuck, other people noticed it too! You place a strand of hair behind your ear while you try to calm down. In a way, it makes sense. If your friends noticed it, everybody else did too, especially the people you’d be “flirting” with. But this is something you didn’t want to hear.

“And she also said that they never fucked although he brought her to his place.”

You frown. This doesn’t sound like Jungkook at all. He’s never done that before, and it doesn’t make sense. Why would he bring someone home if it wasn’t to have sex with her?

“She’s lying,” you instantly reply. “She’s probably frustrated that he didn’t give her what she wanted, so she started spreading nonsense.”

“Well, it’s just rumors,” he says, looking at you for a second. “Nobody said it was the truth.”

When you look over to where Jungkook was standing just minutes ago with his new girl, you find the spot empty. He must have taken her somewhere more private. That thought makes you feel weird. Almost as if you’re jealous of the girl. Oh God, this is not good! You can’t be jealous!

“Well, I want you to know that it’s not true,” you offer him a smile.

When you reach the lecture hall, you attend the classes with him. The class was quite interesting. Thankfully, Jungkook doesn’t share this class with you, so you didn’t get to see him. It was a relief, honestly.

After that, Chris walked you home. Nobody ever did this to you, except for your friends, which includes Jungkook. He’s such a sweet guy.

“Thanks,” you say once you’re in front of the complex. “It was nice to speak with you,” you offer him a smile.

“It definitely was,” he smiles as well.

There is a little non-awkward silence between you. Your mind keeps wondering how it would feel if you ever decided to take this any further with him. For sure, it’d be great to have him as a first real boyfriend.

But you know you can’t do this. You’re too fucked up and you don’t want to hurt him. He deserves to have a nice girl with him. Someone who would be able to love him as he deserves. And that can’t be you…

“I have to go,” he informs you. “My shift is starting in thirty minutes.”

Chris works in a coffee shop as a barista. You should definitely stop by one day to try one of his coffees.

“We’ll see each other tomorrow, I guess?” you say with some uncertainty.

You definitely wouldn’t mind spending more time with him.

“Yeah, if you want,” he smiles.

You get closer to him before you press a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“See you tomorrow then.”

You get inside the building complex, but you never look back. You want to, but you don’t do it. You’ve learned over time that it’d be a sign that you’re interested in someone, and you never want anybody to discover who you’re into. No matter how nice and charming the guy might be, you’ll never do it.

Seconds later, you’re walking into your apartment. You’re welcomed by a Jungkook walking past you.

“That was the guy you saw the other day?” he stops right in front of you, making his strong scent wrap around you.

“You’re spying on me now?” you say, taking your shoes and coat off.

“I have more interesting things to do,” his eyes lock with yours, and a shiver runs down your spine when his deep stare meets yours.

“Like what?” you raise a brow. “Promising a good fuck to a girl and then leaving her hanging?”

“Who told you that?”

The rumors are then true. Jungkook definitely brought someone here, but never slept with her. That’s new, but something you can now use against him whenever he’s being too annoying.

“So you’re not denying…” you smirk. “Never picture the big bad Jungkookie doing that.”

His eyes look away for a moment before his gaze locks with yours once more. Damn, this look makes you weak. You’d get down on your knees right now if he asked you.

“It’s not true,” he mumbles.

“That she’s not what she’s saying,” you keep teasing him.

Jungkook takes a step closer.

“I don’t care,” he says.

You chuckle.

“You’re such a jerk,” you shake your head. “Can’t even admit you let down a girl.”

The other day’s conversation is brought back to your mind. And man, you have to tease him even more.

“Was it because you’re into guys now?” you raise a brow. “I’m warning you, I don’t like sharing.”

Jungkook steps even closer, his face is a breath away from yours. Your heart is beating at a crazy pace in your chest. His eyes are dark, which makes you understand that you’ve pushed him to the edge. If you say one more word, he’ll explode. And that’s exactly what you want.

“I already told you that I’m not gay,” his voice is so deep.

“I’m starting to doubt it,” you smirk.

“Yn,” he warns you. “Stop it.”

“Why would I do that?” your eyes scan his face. “I’m having fun.”

“You’re having fun calling me gay when you know perfectly well I’m not?” he asks, clearly irritated. “What kind of fun is that?” he mumbles, but you don’t hear it.

“Yep. Just like you had fun when you fucked me.”

You regret the words the second they leave your mouth. Jungkook’s brow furrows in confusion.

“What?”

“You heard me,” you snap, pushing past him, desperate to escape.

But he doesn’t let you. His hand grabs your wrist, just like he did a month ago.

“Yn,” he says, his voice softer now.

“Let me go,” you plead, yanking at his grip. “Please.”

You can’t do this. You can’t fall apart in front of him. If you do, he’ll know how much he hurt you. He’ll know the power he has, and you hate that.

“Not until you repeat what you said.”

“You heard me,” you say through gritted teeth. “I’m not repeating it.”

He rolls his eyes.

“You’re so fucking stubborn.”

That’s it. You snap.

“Fuck you,” you nearly scream.

You try to pull your wrist from his grasp, but he doesn’t let go. Not harshly, but firmly, like he needs you to stay. Like if he releases you now, something between you will unravel for good.

He’s stronger than you—physically, yes—but right now, he also has the upper hand emotionally. And he knows it. Still, his grip isn’t meant to hurt you. It’s to hold you in place long enough for the truth to rise to the surface.

Your eyes lock with his, and for the first time in a long time, you feel completely exposed. Stripped bare. Not because you’re angry, but because you’re heartbroken. You’ve been pretending you’re fine, like none of this mattered, but here, under his gaze, there’s nowhere left to hide.

No man has ever made you feel this raw.

You realize with terrifying clarity: you’re falling for Jungkook. Maybe you always were. Maybe all these years, under the laughter and sarcasm and closeness, it was already there, waiting to bloom.

You want to blame him for everything. For that night, and for letting the air between you become so sharp and bitter. But the truth is, if it were just sex, you wouldn’t be hurting. You’ve slept with others before. They were bodies, motions, and noise. Nothing stayed.

But him? He stayed. He’s under your skin. And that night? It meant something. It wasn’t just heat and skin; it was more. It was the way he kissed you with passion, and the safety in the way he held you after.

Your voice trembles, but you say it anyway.

“I said… you had fun when you fucked me.”

The words don’t explode. They land softly. Bitter. Tired. But not accusing. Just honest.

Jungkook is close. So close you can feel the faint warmth of his breath on your cheek. One more step and his lips would meet yours. He doesn’t move. He just looks at you like he’s really seeing you for the first time—not the shielded version of you, not the flirty, not the sarcastic girl who throws jabs to hide her pain. He really sees you.

At first, he says nothing. Because at first, he doesn't understand. He’s thinking of that night, how it felt like the most natural thing in the world to have you in his arms. Of course, it was fun. But suddenly, he realizes this isn’t about sex. Not even close.

You weren’t saying it was fun. You were saying you meant it. And that it broke you to think he didn’t. He lets go of your wrist. But his eyes never leave yours.

“Yn,” he breathes, voice low. “You think I didn’t care?”

“That’s what you said,” your voice almost sounds childish.

“I never said that,” he frowns.

“Yes, you did,” you reply. “You said those words the morning after.”

He remembers. He said those words to Taehyung when he didn’t find you the next day. He thought you had run away like you did with the others. For a brief moment, he closes his eyes, blaming himself for all the chaos he caused.

“I was hurt,” he confesses. “I couldn’t find you, and I thought you considered me as a one-night stand.”

You surprise yourself when your hand lands on his cheek to stroke it. This comforting gesture makes him rest his face on your hand. He missed your warmth. He actually missed you.

“I have to confess that at first I ran away,” you admit. “I was scared about what happened and what it meant, but then, I decided to pick up some croissants for breakfast. When I came back home, I heard you, so I went to my room because those words hurt me.”

What you both realize now is that you’re both stupid. This was all a misunderstanding.

Surprisingly, Jungkook chuckles as you lay your forehead against his chest. His strong arms wrap around your body, holding you close against him.

“We’re so stupid,” he whispers.

You groan against him before wrapping your arms around his waist. You’ve spent this past month hating him unnecessarily. If he was a dickhead, then you were an asshole.

“More than stupid,” you mumble.

You lift your head to look at him. His gaze is different now. It’s not filed anymore with that hatred you’ve gotten to see for the past weeks. And you want to get lost in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he apologies. “I’m so sorry,” he says while his hands cup your face.

His face moves dangerously closer to yours until you feel his hot breath on your skin. Your heart hammers faster and faster in your chest, and for a brief moment, nothing else matters. His nose brushes against yours, his warmth pulling you in, and your lips are a breath away from meeting. But you’re interrupted by the doorbell. You both close your eyes before stepping back.

“I had invited Taehyung to come over,” Jungkook informs you.

You nod.

“I’ll go to my room then.”

And without saying anything else, you disappear into your room while your roommate opens the door to his best friend.

The next morning, you don’t see Jungkook at your place, but you don’t overthink it. You’ve been texting Chris the entire night, even though your mind was occupied with someone else—Jungkook. You’re nervous about meeting him again because you’re unsure of what to say or do.

Now, you’re walking with Chris through campus. You agreed that he’d pick you up and walk with you until the campus. You actually really like him, but only as a friend. There’s no way anything happens with him after yesterday’s conversation with your roommate.

Suddenly, the said roommate appears in front of you.

Jungkook.

He doesn’t say a word at first, but you can tell he’s not very happy to see you laughing and talking with Chris. His eyes shift to your friend for a moment, and a smirk appears on your face. Jealousy does look good on him, and there’s absolutely no way you’re letting this moment slip away without teasing him.

“What do you want?” you ask, crossing your arms and pretending to be indifferent.

“To speak with you,” he flatly replies, his tone clipped and jaw tight.

“I’m with Chris right now,” you say, looking at your friend. “So wait for your turn.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, and you want to laugh but bite the inside of your cheek to hold back. He’s so easy to rile up, so you’re not giving in just yet.

Your roommate looks at the man next to you. His gaze is sharp, and he’s not subtle in the slightest. He’s practically shooting daggers at Chris with his eyes, and Chris definitely notices it. The tension between them is thick enough to slice through.

“Please leave us,” you add, your voice deliberately nonchalant.

Jungkook’s eyes move back to you, and man, you have to hold it together before you burst out laughing.

“I’m not leaving until I’ve spoken with you,” he insists, his voice lower now but even more dangerous.

You give him a look, mirroring his stubbornness.

“You’re so fucking stubborn,” you say, throwing his words from the day before right back at him.

Just like that, you catch that flicker in his eyes. He knows exactly what you’re doing, and it hits him dead on. His lips twitch like he’s trying not to smile.

Chris looks between you two and sighs.

“I’ll leave you two,” Chris eventually says. “Seems that you have a lot to discuss.”

Chris feels like he’s in the way, so he thinks it’s best to leave. You don’t stop him; there’s no need. Jungkook will stay, no matter what.

“See you later, then,” you offer him a smile.

Once you’re alone with Jungkook, a wide grin spreads across your face. No matter what happens between you two, you’ll never get tired of teasing him. Watching his reactions is just too entertaining.

“Are you jealous, Jungkookie?” you ask while getting closer to him.

He looks at you with a gaze that burns.

“Is it a bad thing if I am?” he doesn’t even hide how he feels.

“No,” you honestly answer.

Your face gets closer, your lips brushing against his ear. You notice the way he shivers, and man, this feels like the biggest win of your life.

“You look hot when you’re jealous,” you whisper.

When you slowly step back, you press a kiss on his cheek, but he turns his face to bring his lips closer to yours. It’s undeniable that he desperately craves to kiss you. Just like you.

“Not here,” you end up saying. “Don’t want to break hearts.”

Jungkook chuckles before shaking his head.

“Can’t wait to be home, then,” he presses a gentle kiss on your cheek before disappearing into the campus.

This man will be the death of you.

The second you arrived at your place after classes, you looked for Jungkook in the apartment. He was sitting at the kitchen table, just finishing eating. In seconds, the plate was pushed away, your body was trapped between the table and him, and his mouth devoured yours.

“Fuck, you’re so damn addictive,” he whispers against your lips.

His hand cups your cheek with a tenderness that makes your breath hitch, his thumb brushing softly beneath your eye. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. For a moment, his eyes are simply lost before he kisses you again.

His other hand slides to your waist, while your fingers curl into the hair at the base of his neck. The kiss quickly deepens as all the tension from the weeks of distance, teasing, and denial erupts between your mouths. You both lean into it, mouths parting with the same hunger that once tore your clothes off, but now, there’s something else. Something careful. Something aching.

You gasp softly into him, and he swallows the sound, kissing you harder. It’s messy, and it’s heated. No doubt that this kiss will turn into him in between your legs, fucking the shit out of you. Just like it happened a month ago. However, this time, things will be different. You know that after this intense moment, Jungkook won’t get back to being an asshole to you. Well, at least that’s what you wish.

Jungkook’s hand wastes no time traveling down your waist to the side of your leg. He places his hand underneath the bottom of your dress and begins traveling upwards to feel how wet you are. You let out a soft gasp as his fingers begin traveling up the side of your leg.

“Tell me, baby,” he says, stepping back to take a full, hungry look at you. “How did it feel to provoke me every day for the past month?”

A slow smirk curves on your lips as you remember every time you pushed his buttons, every look, every comment.

“Fantastic,” you reply. “Honestly? I could do it forever.”

He leans in, his voice low, his breath grazing your ear.

“Then I guess it’s my turn to make you pay for it, isn’t it?”

You feel the shiver run down your spine, the air between your bodies thick with the kind of electricity you’ve both pretended not to feel for weeks.

“Oh yeah?” you breathe, your hands sliding up his chest. “And what exactly do you plan to do, Jungkook?”

He grins, that cocky smirk you’ve both hated and loved, and pulls you flush against him.

“Something that’ll make you think twice before you ever call me gay again,” he whispers, eyes locked on yours with a heat that makes your knees weak.

His mouth crashes into yours. There’s no hesitation this time. His hands grip your waist, yours bury in his hair. His kiss is fire, but it’s not just lust. It’s anger, tension, longing, all tangled up in the month you’ve danced around this.

You break apart for a second, breathless, lips tingling.

“Still want to tease me?” he growls softly.

“Always,” you whisper.

Then his lips are on yours again. He begins rubbing you over your underwear, which makes you gasp. His other hand makes its way to your breast and begins caressing you over your dress.

“Jungkook…” You moan, and this time you feel him pull his hand away.

He takes a step away from you and slowly drags his eyes over your body. He can’t believe that this is truly happening. For the past month, he’s been dreaming about it, and he has also masturbated himself a lot while thinking about you.

“Sit,” he says, motioning for you to move backward to sit on the kitchen table. He comes in your direction and takes a proper look at you. “Now, spread your legs.”

As you open your legs a bit, you feel your dress going up, revealing a bit more of your skin to your roommate.

“Wider, I want to get a good look at you.”

You do as he says and feel the hem of your dress rise up to the top of your thighs. As he kneels down in front of you, Jungkook pulls the hem of your dress up to your stomach and reveals your lace panties.

“Wow, I love these panties,” his eyes look up at you with the biggest smile on his face.

“I only wear pretty stuff, Jungkookie,” you smile back at him. “You should already know that.”

He rolls his eyes before he places his hands on your thighs and slowly begins kissing his way towards your aching core. His face meets your clothed folds, and he bites his bottom lip, definitely very impatient to taste you.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to taste you all over again,” he whispers, his voice rough with anticipation.

“Then, do it,” you murmur, breathless.

He lets out a low chuckle, brushing his lips near your neck.

“Somebody’s desperate,” he teases, the smirk in his voice unmistakable, while his hands rest on your thighs. You feel goosebumps rise up when his fingers linger on you.

His fingers slowly dance up and down your thighs, and you lean your head back and close your eyes, loving the feeling of his fingertips on your skin. Jungkook leans closer and suddenly brings his lips to your other thigh, sending shivers down your spine.

Your hands find their way to his hair, your fingers intertwining with his dark locks. You need him inside of you now. His mouth, his fingers, his tongue, just something.

One of his fingers brushes against your already soaked panties, and he groans against your skin as he feels your arousal.

“Mmm, baby,” he starts saying against your thighs, “you’re turning me on with how wet you already are.”

Suddenly, he removes his lips and fingers, and that feeling makes your walls clench around emptiness. Damn, you’re dying to feel him touching you again. You suck in a deep breath as you feel him slowly pulling your panties down your legs.

“Shit, I missed this pretty little pussy,” he admits.

There’s absolutely no doubt that you missed each other over the past month. Not just in the heat of lust or the craving of skin on skin, but in the quiet spaces too. You missed the way he made you laugh without trying, and the way his presence used to make the world feel a little lighter, a little less cruel. He missed the way you used to nudge him when he was too serious, how your eyes sparkled when he’d throw a bad joke, and how your voice always cut through the noise in his head like clarity.

You both felt the void in different ways—him, in the silence of midnight when he couldn't sleep; you, in the middle of a crowded room where no one quite made you feel as seen. No hookup, no distraction filled that emptiness.

And now that you’re standing this close again, feeling the heat of each other’s breath, the truth crashes in like a tidal wave: you didn’t just miss the sex. You missed him. And he missed you. Deeply. Desperately.

But right now, all you want is to feel his touch and to feel his long fingers inside of you. You spread your legs wider, hoping he’ll give you something, anything. A smirk appears on his angelic face, clearly understanding how desperate you are for his touch.

He trails a finger up and down your slit. His touch is featherlight and simply not enough. You want more than that. You want him to finger you until the only thing that can come out of your mouth is his name.

You let out a barely audible moan when you feel two of his fingers slowly spreading you open, exposing your heated core. His fingers gather your slick and rub it around your pussy before you feel the tip of his fingers slipping into your core. He flicks his thumb over your clit before softly rubbing.

You quietly move your hips, trying to urge him to go deeper into your core. Jungkook heeds your wants and slips his fingers in slowly until he reaches his second knuckle.

You grab the edge of the table and open your legs fully as you keep moaning like a mess. Your breath slightly quickens as you feel Jungkook pump his fingers in and out of you without any shame. Your roommate looks up at you, enjoying seeing you twitching with pleasure.

His lips find their way to your wet core before he slowly starts licking at it. This is already too much for you, but you’re loving every second of it. You pull his hair quite harshly, making him groan against your clit and his groan echoes in your body. He takes your nub between his lips and softly flicks his tongue against it, causing you to see stars. As he hears your breathing quicken, he can tell you’re getting close.

“Jungkook,” you moan.

“Tell me, baby,” his eyes rest on your figure.

“I need you inside me,” you mumble.

“What if I want to tease you a little longer?” he says while adoring the way you’re writhing with pleasure.

“Then do it,” you instantly reply.

Jungkook stands up, his fingers still inside you, to kiss you. His lips are covered in your arousal, and fuck, he looks like an absolute god. This vision alone can make you come. He presses a sloppy kiss against your lips.

While kissing him fervently, you grab his shaft and massage it through his pants. A deep groan falls from his lips. A smirk grows on your face when you catch his instant reaction.

“Teasing”, you begin, “is a game I can play too,” you whisper in his ear before biting the lobe with your teeth.

In no time, you’re unbuckling his pants to push them with his underwear. Your hand fully holds his cock, his mouth finds yours, and you both pleasure each other at the same pace. It’s incredibly hot, and something you never knew would happen in your entire life.

Jungkook closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling of your velvety walls around his fingers and your hand on his dick. You’re both so lost in your own pleasure, but that isn’t enough. You both need more.

Suddenly, he removes his hand and quickly spins you around until your back is pressed to his chest.

“You’ve been driving me crazy for the past month,” his lips press a gentle kiss on your neck.

You close your eyes as he gently kisses your neck, his hands moving along your body. His lips and hands make you shiver.

You close your eyes, surrendering to the feeling as his lips slowly and gently kiss your neck. The soft brush of his mouth sends a shiver down your spine, awakening every nerve under your skin. His breath is warm against your neck; man, he’s driving you crazy. Not the way around.

His hands travel your body, fingers tracing the curves of your waist before gliding up your sides. The contrast of his rough palms and your sensitive skin makes you shiver uncontrollably. It’s as if he’s relearning you, mapping you with touch, memorizing every reaction.

He pulls you a little closer, and your body molds instinctively to his. His kisses deepen slightly, his mouth lingering longer, his teeth grazing ever so gently against your neck. A soft gasp escapes your lips when you feel his growing erection against your ass, and you feel his grip tighten just a little in response.

“Flirting with guys right under my nose,” he whispers against your skin. “And constantly teasing and provoking me.”

“Do I even need to talk about you?” you say, his hands still moving along your body. “You’d eye fucking me while dancing with random chicks.”

“Well, how couldn’t I when you were looking at me with so much hunger?”

Jungkook carefully bends you down over the table. His very hungry eyes take a quick look at your body. Your ass is now on full display for him, and fuck, he adores it.

In no time, he grabs a condom from his pocket to put it on his length. Seconds after, you feel his hardness lining up behind you, rubbing at your wet folds.

“You look pretty like this,” he says while bending to press another kiss on your neck.

“I’m always pretty,” you clap back.

“I’m not saying the opposite.”

Since you’re soaking wet, he buries himself easily and in one motion. Both of you hold back your moans.

“Fuck, yn!” he gasps and gives you both a moment.

He has been dying to do it for the past month, and he feels euphoric to finally do it. His hands grab our waist as he slowly moves out of you, leaving only the tip of his length inside. He slams his cock inside of you with a harsh thrust, and you don’t hold back your moan as your arms give out and you fall forward flat on the table.

“Fuck, this is better than in my dreams,” he whines as he sets a pace.

“In your dreams?” you even manage to tease him while he’s fucking you hard on the kitchen table. “You were that fucking desperate…” you smirk.

Instead of replying, he just goes harder, showing you no mercy. Your ass meets his hips and claps with each thrust. The kitchen is only filled with the sound of his hips meeting your ass as well as the creaking table underneath you. Both you and he moan louder and louder, and man, this is more than wonderful. It’s ecstatic, it’s addictive, and it’s overwhelming.

His grip on your waist is strong as he fucks you deep and relentlessly. After all this time, after all this pent-up tension, you’re both getting lost in this moment. It feels beyond great. Nothing has ever felt as great as this right here. No other hookup can even come close to this moment.

Your eyes roll back into your head at how well he works your body. His thrusts become more and more brutal and deep, and you swear that you could feel him in your stomach. You slowly feel your orgasm building within you.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum, baby,” he warns and feels your walls clench around him. “Fuck, don’t tease me.”

“Or what?” you dare to tease me.

“You’re such a fucking tease!” he groans.

Your hand slides down to your clit as you want to cum as soon as possible. Jungkook pumps into you even harder. You know that in a matter of seconds you’d be creaming his cock.

“Kook, gonna cum!” you try not to scream but it’s basically impossible with the pace and strength that he’s fucking into you.

Next thing you know, you’re coming and pulsating around his thickness. He keeps fucking you through your high and he looks with marvel how you’re creaming his length. His breathing is heavy and you can feel that he’s about to cum. And it doesn’t really take him long to fill the condom up with his cum.

“Fuck!” he breathes as he finally comes down from his high.

Your face is resting on the cool surface of the table as your breathing slowly settles back to normal. Jungkook pulls himself out of you, throws the condom in the garbage, and helps you to clean.

“That was fucking good,” you whisper, still breathless, as you pull your panties back on and glance over at your roommate.

Jungkook chuckles lowly, his smile lazy and satisfied. He buttons his jeans and walks back over to you, pressing a few soft, lingering kisses to your lips.

“It was,” he agrees, his voice warm and quiet.

You both collapse onto the kitchen chairs, the air between you thick with everything that just happened, and everything it might mean. Neither of you speaks at first, both staring blankly ahead at the kitchen sink, like it somehow holds the answers.

After a few beats, you finally break the silence. “Just so you don’t freak out after,” you begin, your voice tentative but steady, “I’m not going anywhere.”

You reach for him, your fingers finding his and intertwining naturally, like muscle memory.

“I’m staying… if you want me to,” you add.

He turns to look at you, and that familiar, boyish grin spreads across his face, his doe eyes glowing with something tender and real. “If you’re staying,” he says, squeezing your hand gently, “then I’m staying too.”

A week later

Things with Jungkook are completely different now. He isn’t just your roommate anymore. He’s way more than that. He’s back to being your best friend, but he’s also your fuckbuddy and the man you constantly kiss because you’re so damn addicted to him. It’s been hard to keep your hands to yourself when he’s around, which means all the time.

On campus, you’ve been trying to act like nothing is happening because you don’t want people to talk about you. It was already enough that they were saying you were into each other because of how you were acting before at the parties.

However, it’s been hard not to feed the rumors. When you’re off campus, you don’t hide. You hold hands, kiss in the streets, and tease each other. Anybody with two eyes can see how much you’re into each other. And when you’re partying, it’s even worse. You dance like you’re about to fuck in front of everybody.

But you’ve never been this happy.

You’re cleaning the living room with your Becky G playlist blasting in the background. You’re obsessed, constantly listening to her songs, and Bad Bunny’s too. You even managed to convert Jungkook to liking their songs.

While cleaning, you dance too and sing out loud. Thankfully, Jungkook isn’t home because he would have gotten mad. You’re always too loud—even when you have sex, but he doesn’t complain there—but you don’t care at all. You’d scream in his ears if he complains.

“No digas que no si sí,” you sing out loud. “Si te llamo tú vienes donde mí.”

You turn around in the living room with a cloth in your hands. You’re smiling while singing and dancing, it’s a song that you like a lot.

“Si no me extrañas ahora, ahorita sí,” you continue. “No digas que no si sí.”

“We can hear you in the streets,” Jungkook’s voice suddenly echoes in the room.

You don’t stop, not caring at all about his words. The song is almost over, and you want to enjoy it until the end. Once the song ends, it switches to OTRO CAPÍTULO—your favorite. A smile tugs at your lips as you immediately start dancing in Jungkook’s direction. That familiar, adorable grin grows on his face the moment he recognizes the track.

You sway in front of him playfully until he pulls you closer, his hands finding their place on your waist. You loop your arms around his neck, and the two of you start moving together, perfectly in sync.

“This one’s my favorite,” you murmur with a soft smile.

“I know,” he replies into your hair. “You play it all the time.”

Dancing with him always feels easy, natural, even magical. It feels like home.

“It’s starting to become mine too,” he admits after a moment. “Taehyung won’t stop teasing me about it.”

You laugh, letting the sound float between you.

“Guess I’m a good influence.”

“Not sure I’d go that far,” he teases, though his smile says otherwise.

Still holding your hands, he spins you gently before bringing you back to him. Your fingers stay laced together as they settle at the level of your waist, and your bodies keep moving to the rhythm, wrapped in shared warmth and something deeper neither of you dares to name out loud yet.

Then his voice drops, quiet but certain.

“You’ve broken my heart in ways no one else ever could.”

You blink up at him, surprised but not hurt. There’s a softness in his gaze that tells you it’s not blame. It’s love.

“What a privilege,” you tease, smiling to hide the sudden lump in your throat. “Might have to keep breaking it, then.”

Of course, it’s the last thing you’d ever want. Hurting Jungkook would destroy you.

“Go on, break my heart,” he says, more serious now. “Just promise you’ll be the one to put it back together.”

Your throat tightens. You nod.

“Only if you promise the same.”

Neither of you stops dancing. Even with the seriousness hanging between you like an unspoken vow, your bodies move as one. The music plays on, but all you hear is each other.

“I’ll always pick up every piece,” he says softly. “No matter who breaks it.”

“And I’ll do the same.”

The moment stretches—intimate, quiet, wrapped in the soft pulse of your favorite song. And maybe that’s what love is. Not a grand gesture or perfect timing, but dancing in your living room with someone who sees every part of you and still wants to stay.

This is how two best friends stop pretending. This is how a real love story begins.

And if letting Jungkook hold your heart means he might break it? Then, so be it. Because he’s also the only one you’d trust to put it back together again.

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