#jungkook smut

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 2 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader, Hoseok x female!reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: mentions of The Incident, Jungkook is a menace. curses, mentions of a character getting cheated on, alcohol, mentions of ghosting, explicit content: sex toy (vibrator), they do it in a public space (an empty lab), degradation, sir, thigh grinding, dom!Hobi, he's a bit of a dick, pussy slapping, breast/nipple play, jerking off, praise, fingering, ass slapping, protected sex, anal fingering, mentions of mouth fucking, masturbation (female and male), OC has some dirty little fantasies about her older brother's best friend, squirting, she overhears Jungkook watching porn

☆word count: 10.2k

☆a/n: new week new chapter!! enjoy reading everyone <3 thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing, you guys are the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Sunday, January 20th 

You wake up with a start, heart beating out of your chest. It takes you a moment to collect yourself until you realize that you were actually woken up by a sound. It takes you a moment longer before you understand that the sound is Jungkook cursing.

You frown, glancing towards his wall in the hopes that he’ll shut up, and it’s almost like he hears you: he dwindles into silence after a few seconds, and you’re stuck wondering why he was cursing like that in the first place. You don’t think you’ll have the answer anytime soon, so you lie back down – when did you even sit up?

You shut your eyes, though it seems sleep will evade you again. Indeed, your focus is zeroed in on the sounds coming from Jungkook’s room, probably of him getting ready for work. It also makes you realize that you really do need to go to the bathroom, so you decide to head there before actually going back to sleep.

You get out of the bathroom in time with Jungkook getting out of his room, and he stops in the doorway, eyes widening as he watches you across the living room. You’re only wearing an oversized sweater, and you don’t miss the way his gaze dips to your legs once before returning to your face.

Only then does he break into a smirk, leaning against the door as he folds his arms on his chest. “Long night?” he asks teasingly.

You know you’ve flushed red when he chuckles darkly. “Not really, no,” you choke out.

“You’re cute when you blush, peach,” he jokes, glancing towards your room. “He’s still in there?”

You don’t know if it’s because of the way your face falls, but Jungkook’s smirk dies down, concern moving on his features instead. You hate it, so you quickly say, “He left last night, you didn’t hear?”

His tongue plays with his piercing for a moment. “Not gonna lie, I put earbuds in the moment I started hearing you guys.”

Your blush deepens, and you’d facepalm if the gesture in and of itself wasn’t so embarrassing. Instead, you look away from him, glancing at the front door as you replay Hoseok leaving in your mind. “Sorry,” you apologize.

You don’t even know what for. Your goal was to make Jungkook uncomfortable, so why do you feel like shit now that he’s talking to you about it?

“It’s fine,” he says, pushing up from the door frame as he walks towards the kitchen. “Though I didn’t think you were like that, peach.”

You furrow your brows, and you can’t help but follow him into the kitchen. “What do you mean?”

He’s got his head in the fridge, and he straightens, holding a protein shake in his hands. He takes a sip of it, eyes finding yours, before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he kicks the fridge door shut. 

“Paper-thin walls, remember?”

You purse your lips, cocking your head to the side. “Thought you said you put earbuds on?”

His tongue pokes his cheek, and he looks away from you, chuckling in disbelief. When he remains silent, you spy his ear turning pink, and you hold in a smirk.

“I did,” he says. “A little too late.”

“Are you saying you listened to us?” you let out, gasping in fake outrage.

“Peach.” His doe eyes slide back to you, and they pierce right into your soul as your gazes connect. “I know you’ve been listening to me. If you were just trying to make me jealous, you can say so.”

Your mouth falls open, and every word in the dictionary flies out the window as you just stare at him, embarrassment slowly creeping in. Very slowly, its fingers licking up your spine until they’re clutching your heart.

“Why would I want to make you jealous?” you ask, voice suddenly far less confident and a lot smaller.

He takes another sip. “You tell me.”

You don’t know what to tell him. All that you know is that you wish last night never happened, and you wish Jungkook would stop looking at you. He looks effortlessly good, even so early in the morning, and really, it’s unfair.

Unfair that you’re stuck living with him for months without Taehyung being here.

When he understands that you’re not going to say anything else, Jungkook shrugs, glancing at the time on his phone. He meets your startled gaze again, before saying, “I have to head to work.” He pauses, tongue playing with his piercing and then continues, “If you don’t want me having sex here, it’d be fair if you didn’t have it either.”

You nod once, and when he walks towards you, you quickly step out of the way. It makes him laugh and he stops right in front of you, head tilted down. His hair isn’t styled back this morning, and it falls in his eyes, hiding their innocence from you.

Because, for some reason, you’ve always thought he has innocent eyes. You know better than to think his soul is innocent, though.

“Unless you’d like me to keep doing it?” he asks, voice low and husky. It makes your spine tingle, especially as he adds, “You sure sounded like you liked it last time.”

So he was aware of the Incident. You flush furiously crimson, and you refuse to meet his gaze. But when one of his fingers touches your chin ever so lightly to make you tilt your head back, you’re too weak to resist. 

“Don’t be embarrassed, peach,” he purrs. “I was pretty turned on myself last night.”

Your lips part as your gaze meets his, and you don’t miss the way his eyes dart to your mouth once.

“I won’t do it again,” you say, voice shaking a little.

It clearly isn’t what Jungkook wanted you to say because he frowns, taking a step away from you. If he’s aware that he’s got your heart racing in your chest, he doesn’t let it show.

“Noted,” he answers curtly, and he walks out of the kitchen without saying anything else.

You don’t move, a trembling hand going over your chest as if it’ll calm down the beats of your heart. Evidently, it doesn’t do anything, and you listen to Jungkook as he puts a coat on, before going out the door.

You think you weren’t breathing until the front door shuts behind him, and even then, you’re not sure you’re breathing at all. It takes everything in you to be able to walk back to your room, and you sit on your bed, eyes darting to your phone.

The screen is lit up, and you quickly grab it to see you received a couple of texts while you were sleeping, and another one just now. That last one is from Hoseok, and you immediately open the notification to see what he sent.

[9:02 am] Hobi: hey, sorry for last night. I feel like a dick for leaving like that.. any chance I can make it up to u today?

You purse your lips, right as relief washes through you. Because no matter how much you agree with the fact that you two shouldn’t do feelings, his leaving so quickly made you feel used. It’s also a good distraction from what just happened with Jungkook, which you reckon you need.

[9:04 am] You: no worries I get it. What do u wanna do

You turn off your phone, grabbing your clothes to take a quick shower. Mostly because you don’t want to text him too quickly, but also because you haven’t showered since before the party yesterday, and you usually always shower before going to bed. 

You comb your hair when you get out of the shower, wrapping it in a clean towel before heading back to your room. Even then, you don’t touch your phone, instead busying yourself with putting your dirty clothes away in a hamper. You plop down on your bed, thoughts going back to the conversation with Jungkook, and you feel a coil tightening at the bottom of your stomach.

Because you’re only now realizing that he was hitting on you. He was clearly hitting on you, in his own sick and twisted way. And the worst part is, just thinking about it makes you feel turned on…

You can’t wait for Taehyung to be back from his semester abroad.

Thursday, January 24th

Your biochemistry class is boring. Nabi is dozing off next to you, and you took a couple of pictures already that you shared in the group chat you now have. 

Indeed, you ended up hanging out with Hoseok, Namjoon, Yoongi, Nabi and Ria on Sunday morning, getting brunch together, and for convenience Hoseok created a group chat.

It’s been lively since then, with everyone sending their share of memes and funny pictures. Except Yoongi – Yoongi seems like he’s a ghost in the conversation, except for the laughing reacts that he’s put on some of the memes. The picture of Nabi quickly gains you a lot of laughing emojis, and Namjoon sends,

[11:24 am] Joonie: Yah she should pay attention if she wants good grades!

You laugh-react to Namjoon’s message but don’t say anything, though you know that Nabi is going to have to talk about it for the next fifty days. You then try to focus on the class, watching the minutes go by on the clock by the door more than anything. You’re struggling to stay awake, eyes heavy with sleep, but you manage to make it through the end of class without fully falling asleep. When the professor finally dismisses the class, you shake Nabi awake, laughing as you notice she’s drooled on the desk.

“Gosh,” you say, pointing at it. “Who were you dreaming of?”

Nabi blinks, a little confused, but her cheeks still turn red. “No one.”

You gather your things as you get up, throwing her a no-bullshit look. She ignores you, shrugging her shoulders like the little angel that she is, and then you make your way to the cafeteria, Nabi in tow. You meet with Ria, who’s finished her classes for the day – you’re unlucky, you still have another one in the afternoon. You sit together, chatting about everything and nothing, the conversation slowly inching towards Namjoon. You’re not surprised, and you tune it out as you work on a lab report.

“Hobi!” Ria yells happily, motioning at someone.

As much as you and Hoseok decided to be friends, you still feel a little awkward as he makes his way towards you, sitting next to Nabi across from you. “How are you girls doing?” he asks, but his eyes linger on you.

“Fantastic,” Nabi answers. “Though, not looking forward to the genetics class this afternoon.”

“Come on.” Hoseok laughs, shaking his head. “That’s the easiest class of the first year.”

“Still boring,” Nabi counters. “I don’t know how I’ll stay awake.”

“Bitch,” you let out, chuckling. “You were sleeping all morning.”

She shrugs her shoulders innocently, like she had in the class a moment ago. “Didn’t sleep last night.”

Hoseok looks down at the table, a knowing look painting his features, and Ria narrows her gaze at Nabi. 

“Why?” she asks. “You left the library before Y/n and I did.”

Nabi purses her lips, cheeks tinting pink. Hoseok still sports the knowing smirk, and you furrow your brows.

Did something happen between them? 

“I just couldn’t sleep,” Nabi answers carefully.

At that, Hoseok snorts, finally looking towards her. “I know someone else that couldn’t sleep last night.”

Now, Nabi turns crimson. 

“Did something happen between you guys?” you blurt.

Hoseok looks startled, and Nabi bursts out laughing. “What the fuck?” she says.

“Namjoon was speaking to someone on the phone all night.”

Hoseok’s input has your eyes widen, quite at the same time as Ria replies, “His girlfriend, I presume?”

It is disapproving, and awkwardness fills the space between you all. Nabi’s eyes drop to the table, ashamed. “I mean… he was just helping with some homework.”

Ria scoffs. “So that’s what you do when I’m not at the dorm?”

Indeed, Ria ended up coming over to your place, mostly because she didn’t want you to walk home alone so late after your trip to the library. She slept in Taehyung’s bed and went home right when you woke up to shower and change before her class.

“It was nothing!” Nabi insists. “Just talking.”

Ria rolls her eyes, before getting up and grabbing her stuff. “Whatever.”

She storms away, and you look at her disappearing form, gaze wide, before looking back at Nabi and Hoseok. Hoseok looks like he wishes to disappear through the floor, and Nabi is rubbing a hand on her forehead.

You know exactly what happened. Ria was cheated on in her last relationship, and needless to say, it’s fucked her up a little.

“Just talking?” you repeat.

Nabi meets your gaze, clearly looking for salvation. “I promise, nothing happened.”

Hoseok clears his throat, and both of you look towards him. “Namjoon and his girlfriend broke up last weekend.”

Nabi looks far more surprised than you, if that’s possible. Clearly, Namjoon didn’t tell her.

“They did?”

Hoseok nods, sparing you a glance before he continues, “It’s been a long time coming. They’ve been long distance for over a year, and… yeah.”

“Oh,” Nabi voices. Her eyes drop to the table, where her half-eaten salad is still waiting for her. “I should find Ria and tell her.”

She nods once as if she needs to convince herself, and then she quickly puts her stuff away. It dawns on you that you’re soon going to be left alone with Hoseok, and you try to meet Nabi’s gaze, try to find an excuse as to why you should go with her. But you reckon she and Ria probably need to speak about it without you, for the sake of their friendship.

Nabi waves goodbye when she’s done picking up her stuff, and then she’s walking away, following in Ria’s previous footsteps until she’s out of the cafeteria.

There’s a moment of awkward silence, and you focus on your laptop screen as if it’s going to help, but it offers no salvation. Especially not as Hoseok is looking at you over the screen, eyes going a little dark as his features turn somber. 

You gulp before meeting his gaze. “What’s up?”

He wets his lips, glancing at the seats vacated by your friends. “Sorry about that.”

“Oh,” you let out. “It’s okay, it’s whatever.”

He nods once, and as your attention returns to your computer, he fishes a sandwich out of his tote bag. He starts eating, and you fear the heavy silence is going to make you crazy, especially as you can feel his eyes on you while you type away.

“Everything okay?” you ask, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Want to skip genetics?” he answers, voice lower than you expected it to be.

For a reason unknown, it has your insides turning white hot. 

“I shouldn’t.”

He chuckles, shrugging his shoulders. “Suit yourself.”

You entirely thought he was going to argue, so you can’t help but furrow your brows as you meet his gaze. “What?”

He sits back, tilting his head to the side as he surveys you. As he remains silent, you feel yourself heating up even more. The danger in his eyes is enticing, and you reckon you probably have enough time before class to find a quiet place around campus.

“The class is in forty-five minutes,” you innocently say.

Hoseok grins. “Plenty of time, don’t you think?”

“I haven’t eaten,” you admit, pursing your lips.

“If you sit at the back of the class, no one will care if you eat.”

You know he’s right. And mostly, you know he doesn’t even need to convince you. You’ve been hot and bothered since last Saturday, as you’ve been too scared to use your vibrator again after you realized Jungkook heard you.

So when Hoseok admits he’s got the keys to one of the labs, you don’t hesitate before putting your computer away, following him as he leads the way.

“I’ve never…” you start, and then you laugh awkwardly.

By the time Hoseok says, “You’ve never what?”, you’re out of the cafeteria.

“Never done anything on campus.”

He winks at you. “Glad to know I’ll be the first.”

It makes you roll your eyes as a smile tugs at the corners of your lips, but you don’t say anything as he guides you to the elevator. Another student is already waiting in front of it, and she grins at Hoseok as he stops next to her.

“Hoba!” she lets out. “I thought you had the day off today.”

He loosely hugs her before replying. “Yeah, had to come to hand an essay to Professor Evans.”

The girl glances at you. You barely recognize her, though you’re pretty sure you’ve seen her at some parties. She greets you, and you offer her a smile before she turns to Hoseok and they strike up a conversation about said essay.

She’s someone from his class, apparently, and they chat for the whole elevator ride until she exits to head wherever it is that she is going. It leaves you alone with Hoseok, and it takes all of one second before the air fills with tension again, especially as his hand brushes yours.

“Sorry about that,” he apologizes, voice low. 

You wet your lips, meeting his dark gaze. “No worries,” you reply.

He nods, and to your surprise, he pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear. It makes you freeze in place, as his fingers linger on your cheek. His gaze drops to your lips, and if it wasn’t for the elevator dinging, the doors sliding open, you’re convinced he would have kissed you then and there.

Instead, his hand falls to the side, and he struts out of the elevator. You quickly follow him before the doors have time to close, and it takes about another minute before you finally reach the lab.

Hoseok glances around, making sure the hallway is empty before he unlocks the door. He pushes it open for you to walk in, and you enter the cool darkness, eyes sighing in relief.

Indeed, for some reason, you’ve always found the neon lights of the hallway to be too aggressive for your eyes. 

The lab is dark, the only light being the one from behind the closed blinds. The door doesn’t have a window, and Hoseok closes it behind him, quickly locking it again. You scan your surroundings – there’s an area with white coats to your left, and to your right there are empty shelves where you imagine students leave their bags when they have a class in this lab. You drop your stuff there, before turning towards Hoseok again.

“Aren’t there cameras in here?” you ask.

He walks towards you, towering over you as he puts his tote bag next to your stuff. “The one that is supposed to film the white coats is dead,” he informs you. 

You gulp as one of his long fingers finds your chin. He tilts your head back, before leaning in to press his lips against yours once. He barely kisses you, lips ghosting on your jaw before he aims for your neck. You tilt your head to the side, breath hitching in your throat, but he stills next to your ear.

“How do you know?” you ask breathlessly.

You think you can hear the smirk in his voice when he replies, “Seokjin got in trouble once right here. Someone saw him and his girlfriend come in, but they couldn’t see anything on the cameras so they let him go.”

He lightly tugs at your earlobe. “They haven’t changed the camera since then?”

“No,” Hoseok says, slightly shaking his head. “Or if they have, whoever is behind the security desk has had a couple of shows through the months.”

You let out a breathy sound as he sucks a spot underneath your ear. “Are you saying you’ve fucked some girls here?”

“Maybe?” He pauses to leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck, down to the collar of your shirt. “Is that a problem?”

Not at all. In truth, you don’t give a shit if he’s been with other people. You would assume he was – he’s an attractive man after all. If you were into him for more than just sex, maybe you’d be insulted, but right now, all you can think about is that he’s about to fuck you senseless.

“No,” you finally reply.

His teeth pull at your shirt, and then he straightens. “Come.”

You let him grab your hand, and he pulls you to where the white coats are. He pushes you into a corner, glancing behind him. You can see the camera over his shoulder, and you can only hope that it is indeed dead, because he pushes his knee between your legs as he faces you again.

“You’re such a slut,” he says against your lips. Your eyes close from the sudden proximity, and you await his next words as your insides burn. “Wanting me to fuck you here, where anyone could come in.”

You’d tell him he’s the slut, considering he’s the one that brought you here, but all you can do is grab at his shoulders when he sucks on your lower lip. You moan as his knee pushes further between your legs, thigh pressing against your pussy, and you instinctively grind, looking for some friction on your clit.

Hoseok chuckles darkly, and he straightens again.

“So fucking desperate.” He tuts, shaking his head in disapproval. “Should I punish you some more?”

Your mouth is parted as you breathe in and out quickly, eyes a little round. “Why?”

“Have you learned your lesson last weekend?”

You gulp, nodding once.

“Have you?”

“Yes.”

He cocks an eyebrow, clearly waiting for more.

“Yes, sir.”

He smirks, stealing a sudden heated kiss on your lips. You moan as his hands grab at your hips, forcing you to grind on his thigh again. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, pulling him closer, and you feel yourself go weak in the knees as he keeps you going.

“Wait,” you breathe after a moment of you fucking his thigh. He pulls away from where he buried his face in your neck, questions in his eyes. “It hurts with the fabric…” you trail off as he once again cocks an eyebrow. 

“And? You think you’ve been good enough for me to take off your clothes?”

“Hobi,” you whine, and he smirks before kissing you again. 

He removes his leg from between yours, hands staying on your hips. Yours move from his shoulders to the back of his neck so you can pull him closer, and he pushes you against the wall. He grunts in the kiss when you suck on his tongue, and his fingers find a home over your clothes, right against your pussy. He slaps it, hard, and you moan when his other hand sneaks under your shirt, cupping your breast through your bra.

“What do you want?” he asks.

“Please fuck me.”

He chuckles, nodding his head. “Oh, I’ll fuck you good. You won’t be able to walk to your class after.”

That only turns you on even more, and you think you’re melted lava now, burning bright red as you bubble away under Hoseok’s heated touch. Getting tired of the fabric of your bra, he pushes it up, until your breasts are free and he’s able to pinch your nipple, hard.

You moan, and he pushes his tongue in your mouth, finding yours as he laps at you.

You’re soaking your panties. At this point, you’re convinced you’re also soaking through your pants, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Hoseok has always been able to make you do whatever it is that he wants, and you don’t think it’ll ever change. Last weekend was proof enough of that.

“Take off your pants,” he commands as he steps back. 

Your arms fall aimlessly to your side, but you’re quick to comply, unbuttoning your pants as Hoseok busies himself with his belt. He’s quicker than you, hands steadier than yours, and he’s freed his cock from his pants before you have time to push your pants down your legs. He strokes himself under your watchful gaze, head cocked to the side.

“I’m so fucking hard for you,” he comments, and he sounds a little surprised.

As if he didn’t expect the little action between you two to have been enough for him to get there. You reckon you aren’t surprised, especially not as you feel how wet you are once your pants and underwear are off. 

The cool air of the lab makes you shiver, but Hoseok barely gives you time to realize it before he pushes a hand between your legs, collecting your juices at your entrance before bringing his fingers to your mouth.

“Taste yourself.”

You obey, and you wrap your lips around his two digits, tongue flicking at the pads. He’s still stroking his dick and, as much as you want to look down, you’re a prisoner of his gaze. All you can do is suck his fingers, hollowing your cheeks as you swirl your tongue around them.

“Good girl,” he says once he’s retrieved his fingers from your mouth.

He lets go of his dick as he searches through his pocket for his wallet. He takes it out, finding a condom. He rips the package as your hand wraps around the tip of his cock, thumb smearing the precum all around the head. He hisses but lets you do it, especially as you start stroking him, trying to copy his previous motions. 

You jerk him off for a moment, and he pushes your shirt up enough so that he’s able to wrap his lips around your nipple, sucking hard. It’s your turn to hiss, though his tongue soothes the sting as he swirls it around your nipple before he moves to your other breast.

You rest your head against the wall, trying to focus on jerking him off, but when he dips two fingers in you, arching them to rub at the sweet spot inside of you, you grip him tight.

“Fuck,” he curses as he pulls away, and his fingers leave you empty. They move to retrieve the condom from the package, and he’s quick to roll it on his dick. “Turn around,” he orders.

You bite at your lip, nodding once before you do so. He grabs your hips and pulls them back before he pushes on your upper back until you’re bent, one arm resting against a shelf you find under the white coats.

Hoseok teases your entrance with his fingers again before slipping them in. He finger-fucks you for a while, adding scissoring motions to spread you wide open as you pant from the ministrations. You know he’s getting you ready for his cock, even though you reckon it’s useless.

Indeed, you’re soaked, the perspective of fucking in a public space having made you hornier than you usually are. Indeed, you think you’re already close, especially as he pushes in and out quickly, fingers rubbing you expertly.

You clench around him, and he smacks your ass with one hand. “You like that?”

“Fuck me,” you whine again, begging more than anything.

“Yes, baby,” he says as he massages your ass. “I’m going to fuck you good.”

His fingers leave you empty, and he holds your hips as he aligns himself with your entrance. His cock rubs against your clit, making you see stars before he finally pushes in. He stops with just the tip in, landing another hard slap to your ass.

The sting makes you move back, and you impale yourself on him until his dick reaches deep inside of you, splitting you wide open. He grunts, fingers digging into the supple skin of your hip, and you moan as he hits the bottom of your pussy.

“Fuck,” he curses. “You want to fuck yourself on me, mmh?”

You don’t reply, instead moving forward before pushing back again. He groans again, but then he holds you in place. When you understand that he wants you to stop, you still, glancing at him. He meets your gaze as one of his hands moves to his mouth, and he spits on his fingers.

You grab the side of the shelf hard, knuckles turning white, as he spreads your ass cheeks open, and he smears his spit on your asshole. 

He’s still holding your gaze, and as you say nothing, he pushes his thumb in your ass. It hurts a little, and your eyes flutter shut as you focus on the feeling. 

“Safe word?”

You shake your head no, and Hoseok doesn’t need more to start pounding into you, so hard you can’t help the loud moan that falls from your lips. You clench your walls around him, hard, and he takes that as a cue to bring his other hand to your clit. He rubs it with a consistent rhythm that’s making your legs tremble, though he’s pressing a little too hard. You know he’ll get you oversensitive in no time, so you pinch one of your nipples, focusing on that pain to remain afloat.

That’s where your orgasm finds you, a little under a minute later. Crashing against you, you moan a broken sound that probably would have been his name, and the waves of your orgasm wash over you as he keeps fucking you, fingers never faltering on your clit. 

As soon as you’re down from the high, you pull his hand away from your clit. “Too sensitive,” you mutter.

He slaps your ass but says nothing as he increases the pace of his thrusts, chasing his own orgasm. It hits him as you clench your walls around him voluntarily, and he grunts loudly as he comes, dick twitching deep inside of you.

For a moment, all that fills the air is the sound of your ragged breaths, and it takes you both a while before you’re back in your bodies, coming down from the high of sex. Hoseok pulls out of you, both his dick and his thumb, and he discards the condom, tying it tightly. You put your clothes back on, shakily, as you’re still reeling from the oversensitivity. You run your hands through your hair, making sure it’s not too much of a mess before facing him.

“Damn,” you say once you’re both standing straight, gaze meeting.

Hoseok laughs. “Yeah.”

“Now I have a class to run to.”

He nods. “You do. You think you’ll be okay?”

The way he says it is cocky, and for some reason, it makes you want him again. He must have noticed, because he smirks, tilting his head to the side.

“I’ll be fine,” you say. “We should…”

“Hang out again?” he supplies as you fall silent.

You nod once. “Sometime this weekend?”

He thinks about it for a time before shaking his head no. “I’m going to visit my parents this weekend so…” he trails off.

“Oh,” you let out, shrugging your shoulders. “Just… text me?”

“In the group chat or…” he teases, and you push him as you roll your eyes. It makes him laugh, yet he still pulls you in, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Yes, I’ll text you.”

You move out of his embrace, a little embarrassed. “Good.”

He smiles, gently, and it’s so far from what he was just a moment ago, pounding into you, that you think you get whiplash.

Jeong Hoseok has a duality you don’t think you’ll ever understand. And really, it leaves you confused all through your genetics class. Nabi never shows up, which you actually are glad for. Because you’re pretty sure she would have taken one look at you and known you’ve just fucked, and you don’t think you’d be ready to deal with the questioning.

You’ve barely told them about what happened between you and Hoseok last weekend. You don’t see yourself admitting that you’re sleeping with him again. You’re just content with enjoying the friend group, and you don’t want to make things awkward for everyone else. So you’ve been keeping it to yourself, and perhaps that’s why you’ve been feeling so confused.

As you sit in the library later, trying to finish your lab report, you spy Jungkook shelving some books. He doesn’t see you or pretends he hasn’t seen you, and that, most of all, makes you realize one thing.

Hoseok isn’t the one that’s been confusing you at all. It’s been Jungkook, and what he said on Sunday morning, that’s been plaguing your every moment.

No wonder you haven’t said anything to your friends.

Wednesday, February 6th 

You hate midterms. They stress you out, obviously, but also the irregular hours make it hard for you to sleep at night, and even harder to follow in your classes. It’s no wonder you end up skipping your afternoon class, heading home to take a well-deserved nap before you study more. Nabi promised to send her notes, considering you’ve sent her the notes of that genetics class she missed a few weeks ago.

It’s a good deal, and you sleep like a rock the moment you get home, face hidden in your pillow. The only downside of taking a nap is, you always feel worse when you wake up. It takes a while for you to shake the grogginess away, so when you wake up around 3:45 pm, you know you’re not going to be able to study right away. Instead, you head to the kitchen, reheating some leftover noodles you find in the fridge. 

You’re halfway through your bowl when your phone rings, startling you. You glance at the screen – it’s Taehyung, on a Facetime call at that. Your heart leaps in your chest; you haven’t talked to him since he left, a month ago, except for some texting here and there to make sure that everything was okay.

You pick up the call, and it takes a few seconds before it connects, and your brother’s dumb face appears on the screen. He looks as if he’s lying in bed, or on a couch perhaps. He smiles as soon as he sees you, and you wish you could hug him through the screen.

“Hey!” he says. “How’s America going?”

“It’s cold,” you complain. “Not as great as Paris I assume.”

Taehyung laughs. “Paris is a dream, honestly. You’d love it here.”

“Duh.” You smile wide, slightly shaking your head. “I still can’t believe you just get to spend a whole semester over there.”

“You can if you want to! I’m sure your major also allows it.”

As much as it’d be fun, you don’t think Paris would be your destination. There are a couple of other places in the world that are higher up on your list, though you don’t know if you’d want to study in those places. You’re afraid it’d take the magic away, as you’ve always been too focused on your studies.

Taehyung has never been like this, so you know he’s been enjoying his time over there. And he has – he visited the Louvres last weekend, and he’s eaten so many croissants he’s convinced he’s going to get a French accent soon.

At that, you laugh, before telling him about your time here. Omitting Hoseok, obviously, but mostly omitting how Jungkook has been not so subtly flirting with you. To be fair, you’re pretty sure he was flirting with you before Taehyung left, but he’s been far bolder now. You know the blame is partly on you – after the Incident, and the revelation that he knows about it, you can see why a guy like Jungkook would be attracted.

He told you himself that he was turned on when you were with Hoseok, didn’t he?

“Hello,” Taehyung says. “Are you even listening to me?”

You shake out of your thoughts, apologizing. “Midterms have been fucking with me.”

“Oof,” Taehyung lets out. “I’m lucky my grades here don’t count in my GPA.” He winces, glancing away from the screen before resuming his attention on you. “I think I’m going to tank one of the classes.”

“RIP.” 

Before you or your brother have time to say anything else, the front door unlocks. Your eyes snap to it from where you’re sitting on the couch, and Jungkook comes into view, hair ruffled by the wind outside. He catches sight of you, offering you a corner smile that makes you want to roll your eyes as your gaze settles back on your brother.

“Is Jungkook home?” Taehyung asks, loud enough for the mentioned man to look your way. 

“Tae!” he lets out enthusiastically, and he kicks his boots off to make his way to your side. 

You want to disappear when he sits next to you, close enough for his thigh to press against yours. He’s still clad in his coat, and you cringe at how cold it is as he leans even closer, his face appearing on your phone. “How’s Paris been going?”

“Bro, it’s fucking sick,” Taehyung answers. “They know how to party here.”

Jungkook smirks. “Any good fucks?”

Your head snaps towards Jungkook. “Bruh, why would you ask him that?”

Taehyung laughs, ignoring you. “I’ve been seeing this girl,” he admits. “Haven’t fucked yet but I’d say it’s coming.”

You wince, nose scrunching up in disgust. “Come on, I don’t want to hear about your sex life, Tae.”

“You’re a big girl now, get used to it,” Jungkook jokes.

You glare at him again, and when your eyes move back to Taehyung’s face, he’s got his brows furrowed. You don’t know why, and the expression melts to be replaced by his usual impassive mask, the one you know he uses when he’s trying to not let his emotions show on his face.

“Well, I’ve been dating her, I’m pretty sure I can tell you I’ve been going on dates?” he says, and it sounds like a question.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Kim Taehyung, why are you starting to date someone in Paris? You’re not going to do long distance.”

“She’s from our college too, chill,” he answers, rolling his eyes at you. “She’s in the exchange program.”

That gains your interest, and a smile moves on your lips. “Oh?”

“Oh?” Taehyung echoes.

“Who is she?”

He offers you a secretive smile. “Not telling before things are official.”

Taking you by surprise, Jungkook grabs your phone out of your hands. The sudden contact of his fingers on yours feels electrifying, even though it lasts just a fraction of a second before it’s gone.

“Hey!” you burst out.

“I’m sure you can tell your best friend,” Jungkook says, holding your phone out of your reach, filming his face.

“Jungkook, give me my phone!”

You can hear Taehyung laughing on his side of the line as Jungkook looks at you. “Nah.”

You sit back on the couch, folding your arms on your chest. You clench your jaw, annoyance moving through you, but you don’t say anything else as Taehyung insists that he’d rather wait before telling you. Jungkook, resolute, asks the question again, and you elbow him in the ribs.

“Ow!” he lets out. “What the fuck was that for?”

You roll your eyes. “Give me my phone.” He looks up at the ceiling in annoyance, before handing you the device. “Thank you,” you say sarcastically.

“Just wanted to get you your answer,” he replies, shrugging his shoulders. “But never mind.”

At that he gets up, sauntering away while taking off his coat. You watch him go, far too confused, but Taehyung doesn’t let you think about it for too long. Instead, he says he’s got to go, but that he’s glad you two talked. You tell him to be safe, and then you hang up.

The sudden silence in the living room makes you glance towards the kitchen as you hear Jungkook rummaging in the refrigerator. It takes all but five seconds for him to yell, “Hey, are you eating my noodles?”

Your gaze widens as it falls on the noodles you’ve been eating, forgotten on the coffee table. You were convinced they were yours earlier, but now that Jungkook’s said it…

You jump out of your seat, grabbing them as you head to the kitchen. “Are they yours? I was convinced they were mine.”

He seems pissed, but when you hand him the bowl, he cocks an eyebrow. “You’ve eaten half of them.”

“There’s still plenty left!” you point out. “I’m sorry.”

“Peach,” he says, smirking. “It’s okay, I’ll eat something else.”

The nickname makes your cheeks burn. “No, really, take them.”

He hesitates for a few seconds more before shrugging his shoulders and grabbing the half-eaten bowl. “Thanks.”

You don’t reply, not knowing what to say as he moves back to the living room. Still hungry, you grab some grapes from the fridge before heading to your room, figuring you should study now. You get comfortable at your desk, studying for your next midterm. It goes well for a few hours, but when the sun has long since set, you hear Jungkook opening the front door, greeting someone.

For a moment, you’re afraid he’s invited a girl over, but it turns out to be Jimin. You relax in your chair, continuing to study, eyes growing heavy with every sentence that you read. Luckily enough, you don’t have a morning class tomorrow, having the week off before the midterm to “study”. So you push through, knowing that it doesn’t matter if you go to bed late tonight.

You can’t focus on your laptop anymore when you hear Jungkook cursing at Jimin from the living room. It’s loud, and you only then realize that the TV is on, and they’re clearly playing some game. Just like that, what was left of your concentration flies out of the window, and you get up to go see what they are up to.

Turns out that they are playing Mario Kart, and from the looks of it, Jungkook is losing. He’s leaning towards the TV, elbows resting on his knees as he concentrates, and Jimin has a shit-eating grin on his lips. The latter’s eyes flicker to you for half a second before he resumes his attention on the television.

“Hey,” he greets you, adding your name at the end. “Want to play?”

You move closer so you can see the screen, and you watch as they drive the rainbow road. “I’m supposed to be studying.”

Jungkook curses loudly, and you watch his character fall from the road. You laugh, right as Jimin finishes the race.

“JK, you suck,” Jimin teases.

Jungkook is pouting next to him, half in concentration and half in annoyance, and he looks stupidly cute like this. You hate it, so you resume your attention on the screen to watch him finish in eleventh place, right in front of Princess Peach.

“Fuck off,” Jungkook drawls, and his gaze slides to where you’re standing. It seems he thinks you are salvation because his gaze lights up. He says your name enthusiastically, adding, “My second favourite Kim sibling!”

You purse your lips, furrowing your brows. “Fuck off,” you tell him.

“Can you please go get some beer from the fridge, since you’re standing?” he adds, begs, ignoring you. 

He offers you his best impression of puppy eyes, and you want to hate him because, damn, he’s good. Too good, and you shake your head in disapproval, though you still turn around and walk over to the kitchen. You fish two beers out of the fridge and thinking better of it, you grab a third one for yourself. You head back to the living room then, handing the cans to the guys.

“Thank you,” Jimin says, but all Jungkook does is wink at you, a smirk playing on his lips.

It makes something warm blossom in your chest, and as he glances down at your naked legs, the feeling soon trickles down to your core. Indeed, you’re only wearing a pair of pajama shorts, and luckily enough, you’ve been shaving your legs religiously now that you’ve been sleeping with Hoseok again.

Your cheeks flush, and you try to figure out where to sit. Jimin is leaning against the armrest, back propped up against a pillow, and Jungkook is in the middle of the couch, next to the L-shaped part. It only leaves you with the option of sitting next to him, and you clench your jaw, though you still make it to his side.

You sit as far from him as you can, grabbing the blanket you always leave on the back of the couch to hide your legs, lest Jungkook’s gaze burns your skin more.

“You wanna play?” Jungkook asks.

You shake your head no. “Just taking a break from studying.”

“With a beer?”

He sounds disapproving, so you glance at him. “Yeah?”

He snorts, but he doesn’t say anything else as Jimin starts another race. You watch them play, cheering for Jimin even though Jungkook is winning. Jimin, ecstatic, keeps drifting into the wall, but he manages to get a blue shell on the last turn, which he immediately launches at Jungkook.

Jungkook curses loudly again as you giggle with Jimin, watching his character – Wario – spinning on the screen. He still manages to finish the race fourth, with Jimin right behind him. 

You’ve been drinking your beer fast, and after the next race, Jimin manages to convince you to play. You choose Princess Peach, obviously, right as Jimin moves away to go to the bathroom.

“Really, Princess Peach?” Jungkook teases, a smirk adorning his lips. “You’re trash with her.”

“The character you choose changes nothing,” you say, glaring at him. “Let me be.”

“Right,” he says, laughing. He leans back into the couch, taking a sip from his beer. “You did earn your nickname after all.”

“Please.” You roll your eyes, before meeting his gaze. “You know I hate that nickname.”

“Hence why I’ll keep using it, peach.”

You punch him in the shoulder, clearly not hard enough to hurt. As a matter of fact, it hurts your hand more than it probably hurts him as your fist collides with his hard shoulder muscles, and you grit your teeth as you sit back in your spot.

“You’re annoying.”

He grins at you, a toothy grin that makes you want to punch him again, in the face this time. “You love it,” he teases.

Before you can say no, Jimin walks out of the bathroom, and the moment is over. You go back to playing, and you end up on a winning streak, which earns you a lot of curses from Jungkook. Right when you’re about to go for a fourth race, Jungkook claiming that this one is going to be his race, Jimin receives a call. 

“It’s Sera,” he says as an explanation, and he walks away to take the call in the kitchen, away from you and Jungkook.

Jungkook immediately turns towards you. “Have you been practicing? You were trash last time we played.”

You snort. “I have better things to do with my free time than to practice playing Mario Kart.”

He cocks an eyebrow at you before shaking his head. “Whatever, I’ll beat you in this race.”

“Good luck with that,” you tease. “Didn’t you finish last in the last one?”

To your surprise, he leans towards you. He’s close enough for you to feel his breath fanning on your face, and you hold yours as he offers you a smirk and a cocked eyebrow.

“At least I finished.”

You don’t know what he’s referring to, so you offer him a quizzical look. “What?”

He chuckles, and one of his hands pats your thigh over the blanket. It still burns, and you gulp.

“Pretty sure that guy you’ve been fucking hasn’t made you finish.”

You flush crimson. “Why the fuck would you think that?”

You hope he can’t hear the furious beats of your heart because you’re pretty sure you’re about to go into cardiac arrest.

“Heard you sucking his dick, and then you tell me he left. He didn’t take care of you, did he?”

The way Jungkook is looking at you right now makes you feel new. Seen. As if no one’s ever looked at you that way before.

“I deserved it,” you reply, throat dry. You try swallowing, but it only makes you gulp again.

“Come on, peach. What did you do to deserve that?”

He’s even closer now. Eyes dropping to your lips as you tentatively wet them, and you feel yourself leaning back. Mostly because you think you’re going to explode if you don’t move.

Jeon Jungkook is dangerous for your sanity.

“Ghosted him,” you admit.

That takes Jungkook by surprise. He starts laughing, shaking his head. “You, ghosting someone?”

Luckily enough, as he laughed he sat back in his spot, and you breathe easier with the renewed distance between you.

“Yeah?”

Jungkook chuckles again. “For some reason, I thought you were a hopeless romantic.”

“Why?”

He shrugs, and you both glance towards the kitchen from which Jimin emerges. Jungkook never answers your question as Jimin announces that he’s going to play one last race before he’ll have to leave, and you’re forced to let the conversation go as he starts the race.

This time around, you can’t focus. You keep falling off the track, hands clammy as your mind replays the conversation with Jungkook. As it reminds you of just how Jeon Jungkook’s gaze was burning on you a moment ago, and you drive into a wall on the second turn.

“Fuck,” you curse.

“Distracted?” Jungkook asks, and the smirk tells you enough for you to understand what just happened.

He was trying to distract you. You fume, focusing on the screen with new vigour as you try to pass Jungkook. He notices your intent, but when he laughs, you once again run into a wall, slowing you down enough that you fall back to the tenth position.

When Jungkook passes the finish line first, he cheers loudly, winking your way. You glare at him, and Jimin laughs at the two of you, though he says nothing. You wonder if he’s heard part of your conversation with Jungkook – if he has, you reckon your brother is going to give you shit for it soon. You can only hope that he hasn’t, because as much as you love Taehyung, you don’t want him to be an overbearing asshole.

Jimin leaves, wishing you and Jungkook a good night before disappearing into the soft snowfall outside. You don’t move from the couch, and when Jungkook heads to the kitchen, you put your controller down, stretching as you yawn.

To your surprise, Jungkook comes back with another beer for each of you. 

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Don’t you still want to play?” he says as he sits next to you, and electricity courses through your blood as you notice he’s closer now.

“Not really,” you admit, yet you still accept the beer that he hands you.

“Mind if I play something else, then?”

You shrug your shoulders. “Nah, go on. I’ll just drink this and go to bed.”

“Tired of me?” he teases, smirking.

You roll your eyes, but don’t reply to that.

 “What made you think that I’m a hopeless romantic?” you ask after a few seconds, going back to your previous conversation.

He plays with his piercing, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Have you seen your brother? It wasn’t far-fetched to think you’d be like him.”

He’s not wrong. Taehyung is a romantic, through and through. It’s one of the reasons why he loves Paris so much – the city of love, where he’s himself finding love at the moment, it seems. He’s been that way for as long as you can remember, only having dated a girl once in his life all through high school, splitting because she decided to go to an Ivy League college on the other side of the country.

“Right,” you say.

Jungkook switches games to Smash, not saying anything else. It seems the conversation is over, and you watch him play a match as you sip your beer, slower than the other one. It makes you realize that you don’t usually hang out with Jungkook, and you reckon you have nothing to tell him. 

There’s usually always a buffer between the two of you, be it Taehyung or Jimin.

“How have your midterms been going?” he asks all of a sudden, right as you watch his character being thrown out of the screen.

“Huh,” you let out. “It’s been okay,” you admit. “Just stressful, and a lot of studying.”

He glances at your beer. “Sorry for interrupting your studying tonight.”

“Nah, all good,” you reassure him. “I needed a break. I pulled an all-nighter last night.”

He throws you a disapproving look that makes you shrug your shoulders as if to say ‘it’s whatever’. He doesn’t say anything though, waiting until his match ends to speak again.

“You shouldn’t pull all-nighters, they’re bad for your health.”

“It’s fine,” you insist. “I had a midterm this morning, didn’t really have a choice.”

He pulls at his piercing, nodding once. “Fair enough. What are you doing still up though?”

Right on cue, you yawn again. “I’m going to head to bed soon,” you admit. “But I took a nap this afternoon and I always struggle with sleeping after.”

“Pretty sure you’ve got a little friend that can help you with that.”

Your mouth falls open in surprise, but Jungkook’s attention is focused on the screen as another match begins.

“Excuse me?”

“Unless you just use your fingers?” he teases. “How do you touch yourself, peach?”

“Jungkook, shut the fuck up,” you warn.

Though his words have arousal build up inside of you, and you clench your thighs together instinctively.

“Just do whatever you did the other night,” he says, and you know he’s referring to the Incident. “You’ll sleep well after.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “You’re so crass.”

“Yet you’re still sitting next to me.”

You watch his profile, and your eyes fall to the ink on his arm. His forearm flexes as he uses the controller, and you force yourself to look at the screen.

“I’m just finishing my beer.”

He glances at you once, and you think you could drown in the darkness in his eyes. His gaze is gone too fast for you to do just that, but you still feel your pulse racing.

“Relax, peach,” he tells you, voice suddenly husky. It has the opposite effect of making you relax, and you wet your lips as he continues, “Masturbating is only human. You shouldn’t be ashamed of it.”

“Still don’t think I should be discussing that with you,” you say after a few seconds of electric current swimming in your blood.

He chuckles manly. “Fair enough. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

In truth, he did quite the opposite, but you don’t have it in you to tell him. You don’t want to tell him, don’t want to encourage his behaviour when it feels like danger in its purest form.

“All good,” you say, and you’re aware you sound breathless. As a matter of fact, you are breathless, and you know Jungkook heard it too. Know that the look he throws you is filled with lust, sinfully so, and you know you need to leave this room.

He’s your brother’s best friend, after all.

“I’m…” you trail off. He nods once to encourage you to continue, gaze still burning on you even though that means he’s losing his game. “I’m going to go to bed now.”

He glances at your beer. “You’re done with that?”

He’s a little shit. He’s a little shit, and he clearly knows it.

“I’ll finish it in my room.”

His tongue darts out to play with his piercing as his big doe eyes narrow. “Alright. Good night, peach.”

You nod once, and you get up from the couch. The blanket falls from your legs, and you’re all too aware of how he’s looking at you like he’s about to devour you.

“Good night.”

And then you flee, core heated up and heart beating out of your chest. You’re convinced you can feel his gaze boring a hole between your shoulder blades, but you don’t turn around to confirm. You refuse to turn around to confirm, lest you’re never going to be able to make it to your room.

You hate this. Hate that he’s got you hot and bothered too much for you to be able to settle in bed comfortably. Hate that you find yourself seeking your vibrator in your night table.

You only sigh in relief when you’ve got it pressed against your clit through your underwear. And you’ve soaked through your panties already. They’re sticky against you, but you can’t bring yourself to move them to the side. Not for a while, not until you’ve hidden your face in your bed cover to muffle your sounds, if you make any.

No, it takes you a moment before you finally decide to push them to the side, and the direct contact on your clit has you arching your back, stars swimming in the periphery of your vision. You think about Jungkook. Remember the sounds that he makes while he fucks, remember the words that he’s told you.

You remember his big eyes, filled with sudden lust for you. You imagine him murmuring his dangerous words right in your ear, lips moving against you, and the thought of him pushing his dick in you is enough to send you over the edge, vision flashing with white light for so long that you think you’ve gone blind. And then you push the vibrator inside of you, not surprised when it slides right in with how wet you are.

You’re aware of the squelching sounds it makes, but you can’t bring yourself to care. All you can do is imagine being impaled on Jungkook’s dick instead, imagine his inked hand wrapping around your neck as he pounds into you.

In your fantasies, he fucks you even better than Hoseok does. He fucks you into ecstasy, fucks you until you’re high with it, and you go dumb. Until all that’s left is his dick, and it’s no surprise when you muffle a loud moan in the bed cover as you squirt, your juices covering the hand you’re fucking yourself with.

And still, you can’t stop. You turn on your side, hide your face in your pillow as tears swim in your gaze with the intensity of your pleasure. You imagine Jungkook on his side of the wall, imagine him stroking his cock, listening to you choking on Hoseok’s dick, remember him admitting to being turned on by it…

Your other hand moves between your legs, finds your sensitive clit and starts rubbing insistent circles on it, right as another knot starts forming in your lower stomach. You move the vibrator inside of you faster, time your motions with the circles on your clit, and soon enough, a new orgasm finds you, slams into you so hard you think you’ll lose your mind.

Only then are you able to stop, turning off your vibrator and putting it down on the bed next to you, hands shaking slightly. You don’t move for a long time as you swim in the aftereffect of your pleasure, and it takes you a while to decide to go clean up. Clearly, you need a cold shower, but first, you chug what was left of the beer, needing to numb your mind so you can’t be embarrassed by what just happened.

You put your pajama shorts back on, grab a clean pair of underwear and then stop next to the door. You listen to the sounds outside of your room, but it seems Jungkook’s not gaming anymore. So you hesitantly open the door, and when you find the apartment completely dark, you sigh in relief.

You tiptoe towards the bathroom, slowing down in front of Jungkook’s door. There’s a faint red light under his door, coming from the LED lights you know he’s hung in his room, and you wonder what he’s doing in there.

Through the door, you hear some faint feminine moaning and instinctively bite your lips. You only realize you’ve stopped in front of his door when you hear him curse lowly, and then the moaning is interrupted. He’s watching porn. You’re painfully aware that he’s watching porn, jerking off just on the other side of his closed door.

You reckon you will really need the cold shower after all.

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☆☆☆☆☆

Oooooof these two I swear... how did we like this chapter? Good? Not good? Let me know!!

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate

[2hightocare]

DOWN BAD! 03

Synopsis: Despite undeniable chemistry, your guys’ relationship remains undefined, caught between playful teasing to deeper, unspoken longing.

Pairings: bad boy! jungkook x fem! reader

Genres: college au. slowburn!

Warnings: drugs. mention of abuse, abusive household, fighting, screaming, crying, reader is down bad.. unprotected sex, reader is a virgin, making out, throwing up, fluff if you kinda squint, love confession, angst, banter between them both, cussing, Jungkook sucks at showing his feelings, complicated relationship, flashbacks.

a/n: hi.. sorry this took longer to put out but finals week is here— but here🥳 i recommend reading the first parts before this for it to make more sense k bye bye🤍

01 02 playlist board

The aching feeling in your chest didn’t disappear; it only increased the more you cried. Your palm clawed your chest, soothing over your clothes as if it would help lessen the pain. Your heart felt like it was getting repeatedly run over by a train. Each time you would gasp for air, another heartbreaking sob came flowing out of your mouth. It was crazy how down bad you are over this boy.

Seeing the person you love the most lose themselves to drugs was the most heart-wrenching pain you have ever experienced. The worst thing was you were losing yourself over him.

“I want a big house, with all that white picket fence shit,” you say, your hands playing with his hair as he melts into your touch.

“Not happening, baby,” he chuckles, his hand on your waist squeezing. “And I want a ring the size of my fist,” you ignore him, extending a hand out, imagining how a ring would look on your ring finger. “We’re not getting married or getting a house,” he rasps out, a hint of amusement displayed on his face matching yours.

“I think we should get a dog as well, don’t you think?” You continue, making him throw his head back with a laugh. “There would be no dog, and house, baby. Because I will be in jail after trying to rob a bank to pay for your big-ass ring,” Jungkook states, tilting his head to the side to drop a kiss on your cheek, the gesture sending your heartbeat skyrocketing in your chest.

“So you do want to get married!?” You jest happily, tugging on his hair playfully, making him let out a low groan before shaking his head, laughing. His laugh was one of your favorite sounds in the world.

The memory was like a punch into your gut, over and over again without stopping. Him leaving you on the floor of your room crying keeps replaying in your mind. The thought of him actually leaving never crossed your mind until now. He always comes back, you thought to yourself as you pick yourself up from the ground. Your knees weaken as another cry rakes through your body as you drop onto your bed face down.

As much as you wanted to run after him, you knew better not to. Your self-respect was hanging by a thread, and you were scared of what you would do if you see him at this very moment. The thought of you on your knees begging him to change burned in your mind.

You knew love shouldn’t be this hard, but that didn’t stop your mind from trying to convince you otherwise. Memories of him started circulating around your head, sending a strong shot of pain to spread through your body. You try your best to control your sobs, but it is almost useless as sixteen-year-old Jungkook appears in your mind.

“Hi,” you quip, skipping towards him.

“Hi,” he says, the edge of his mouth lifting into a smirk. “Finally, I see you again. You aren't in my homeroom.” You pout, noticing how his eyes go from your eyes to your lips to your body. “That's good, no? I wouldn't want to be a distraction.” He flirts almost nonchalantly, which sends a swarm of butterflies to flap around your stomach. You bite your lip before crossing your legs.

“Do you always flirt with every woman that comes up to you?” You tilt your head to the side, letting your hair fall beautifully over your shoulders, making Jungkook admire.

“Nah, only with cute girls I met on the first day of school in the front office after she got in a fight with someone for ripping holes in her tights,” Jungkook shrugs. You smile as you look him up and down. His hair is messy but not so messy that it looked like he got in a fight. His uniform fitted his body perfectly, making you jealous that girls got to look at him. His tie was tied neatly around his neck—but your mind was playing tricks with you as you imagined him using his tie in other ways that weren't exactly appropriate, but that's what reading Wattpad did to a girl.

“Is that so?” you chuckle as you watch him nod.

“What's your type?” he asks, catching you off guard. Your hands play with the hem of your skirt. “Dimples, brown eyes...” You tap your chin as you playfully look up as if you were thinking. “I like them tall as well. How tall are you?” you ask him, pointing at him, waiting for his reply. “Five ten,” he replies casually, amusement clear in his eyes.

“Yeah, I like them five ten.”

You felt as if you had a ball stuck in your throat. The more you tried to calm down, another batch of fresh tears pooled down your eyes. Your eyes were bloodshot, tears mixed with your mascara leaving streaks of black all over your cheeks. Before you knew it, you fell asleep with a broken heart.

Jungkook's hand shakes as he lights up the cigarette between his lips, his body craving the drugs. Instead of running to his dealer's house, he imagines your distraught face. He takes a large puff from the stick, letting it fill his lungs, but it's not enough. His tattooed hand tugs on his hair-body shaking, which he would like to think is from the cold, trying to ignore the fact he's going through withdrawals.

He didn't dare go home; he couldn't face his mom. He knew he would lose his mind if he saw another bruise decorating her skin. Another chill ran down his spine as he exhaled. His muscles ached, and sweat started to form on his forehead. The feeling of wanting to throw up was almost unbearable. Before he knew it, he was puking over a bush. He couldn't catch his breath before another roar of vomit came rushing out of him.

"It's fine," Jungkook repeated under his breath. Before he knew it, his feet moved towards the only person who could help him.

"You look like shit, buddy," Yoongi chuckles. "The regular?" He raised an eyebrow, and Jungkook nodded eagerly, his hands shaking as he watched Yoongi pull out a small bag of white circular pills-oxycodone.

"Here." Yoongi shoved the bag into Jungkook's hand, harshly taking the dollar bills from him and counting them.

"Thanks," Jungkook nodded, his feet moving to the door before stopping abruptly.

"That pretty girl that's always running behind you, that's your girl?" Yoongi says, licking a piece of paper with his tongue before rolling it up into a perfect small joint. Jungkook's body stiffened; he didn't like the fact that Yoongi knew who you were and that he mentioned you as pretty sent a chill down his body.

"Nah, she's just someone I know from school," Jungkook says, his voice stoical, showing zero emotion as he lies through his teeth. "Why?" Jungkook added a couple of seconds later. A small smirk appeared on Yoongi's face.

"She came looking for me," Yoongi starts, placing the rolled-up paper between his lips while his other hand uses a lighter to light it up. He blows a couple of times before he takes a hit, letting it fill his airways.

"She told me she'd give me a shit ton of money if I stop selling to you." Yoongi chuckles the words out, making Jungkook's throat close up and his lungs stop working.

"She also told me to go 'fuck myself," Yoongi mocks you in a high-pitched voice before bursting into laughter. "She's fucking bad, though. She had this tiny ass skirt-and her tits, man-" Yoongi whistles lowly.

Before Jungkook knew it, he was striding towards Yoongi, yanking the joint out of his mouth and throwing it somewhere around the room. Jungkook's hands gripped both sides of Yoongi's shirt, pulling him upwards from the couch.

"Don't. Fucking. Talk. About. Her," Jungkook seethes, his jaw clenched as Yoongi lets out a surprised gasp.

"Don't even fucking look at her." Jungkook shakes Yoongi. "The fuck is wrong with you?" Yoongi pushes Jungkook off. The smirk he always had plastered on his face is long gone, replaced by a shocked expression.

"Listen here, whatever the fuck I got to do with you has nothing to do with her. I don't give a single fuck if she came up to you. Next time you ever see her, don't even glance her way, don't even breathe near her. Because I promise you l will fucking kill you. I'm not scared of jail." Jungkook growls before pushing Yoongi back onto the couch.

Before he could reply, Jungkook strode for the door and slammed it shut.

Jungkook's heart rapidly beats in his chest. The adrenaline and anger fueling his body has him cursing under his breath. As much as Jungkook wanted to punch Yoongi straight in the jaw, he knew things wouldn't end well. So instead, he walked straight to the house where he knew was the last place he should go.

It was almost five in the morning when a small sound woke you from your sleep. Your head pounded, and your body and heart felt numb. You rubbed your eyes tiredly, blinking fast as you caught a shadow outside your window. Immediately, you shot up from your bed.

Your heart started again as you rushed to open the window. With a small gasp, you pulled the boy inside your room.

“You’re here! Are you okay?” You took hold of his face, checking him frantically. “Look at me.” You grabbed his face and made him look at you. His eyes bored into yours—the small glittering light in his eyes sparkled for a second before being replaced with empty eyes, almost angry.

“I’m not high,” he groaned, removing your hand from his face. You let them fall beside you with a small, weathery breath.

“That’s good.” You sniffed, but he stepped back when you reached for him, as if your touch was poison. He felt distant and gone, like he wasn’t really in front of you. “You met Yoongi,” he said, his tone cold, lacking the warmth he always used when talking to you.

“I did,” you nodded, your eyes welling up with tears threatening to spill at any moment. “He told me what you did.” His voice was almost nonchalant, which sent a shiver down your body. He was slipping through your fingers like water, no matter how hard you tried to hold on.

“You went to him?” you said, your hands forming into fists beside you as you pressed your nails into your palms, possibly leaving red marks.

“None of your business,” he replied. “I don’t know what sort of shit you tried to pull, but never fucking do it again,” Jungkook bluntly stated.

“You always say it’s not my fucking business, but it fucking is.” You gritted your teeth, anger bubbling in your stomach.

“How the fuck would that be any of your business? From what I recall, we are nothing.” He scoffed, his heart cracking in his chest as the words left his mouth, watching your face fall before recovering.

“Why the fuck are you here, then? It is my fucking business,” You said, tone deadly.

“It is my fucking business because I fucking care about you, Jungkook! You might not notice it, but I love you. I’m so tired of acting like I don’t when all I want is you. I just want you. You.” You cried almost erratically, Jungkook's mouth opening before closing.

“I love you,” you sobbed, tears streaming down your face just like the raindrops on your closed window. “I know you do too; if not, you wouldn’t be here.” A shaky breath left you as you wiped your eyes with a sniffle.

Jungkook’s heart suddenly felt lighter, but the pain in his body didn’t go away. When your words left your mouth, his heart stopped, and the thoughts he came to tell you about were long forgotten. He looked at your puffy, smudged mascara eyes and your pouty lips that begged to be kissed, making the thoughts in his head vanish into thin air.

“You don’t mean that,” Jungkook finally said, and you could almost hear the faint sound of your heart cracking at his words.

Before you could reply, Jungkook dropped onto his knees, shaking. It was pathetic how fast you dropped beside him, getting a hold of his body. “I’m going to die, fuck.” Jungkook shook in your arms, closing his eyes with a loud curse. “Fuck, fuck,” Jungkook growled. You frantically touched him; his body was burning up as he shook in your arms.

“What’s going on?” you cried, coaxing him. Small reassuring ‘you're going to be okay’ left your mouth repeatedly as you held him tight to your chest while he shook and whimpered in pain. “Fuck, need this to go away,” Jungkook shook as he reached for his pocket and pulled out a small bag of pills. His hands shook as he tried to open the bag, fumbling.

“Baby, help me. I need this to go away.” Jungkook cried, tears rushing down his face as he struggled to open the bag.

A heart-wrenching sob escaped past your mouth as you noticed the position you were in. It was like a scene in a film. Jungkook shook his head repeatedly as you took the bag out of his hands and placed it behind you, somewhere he couldn’t reach. “Help me,” Jungkook pleaded, his calloused hands tight on your waist as he shut his eyes in agonizing pain.

“I’m so sorry,” you cried, your fingers wiping his tears.

“Make it go away,” Jungkook cried, the most vulnerable you had ever seen him as he begged you to give him the drugs. It was like you were stuck in a love triangle with him and his last drug of choice.

Jungkook looked at you, his face desperate. “Make it go away,” he pleaded. And that’s exactly what you did, just not in the way Jungkook was thinking. Your lips smashed into his, making his eyes widen before fluttering closed, melting into you.

His tense shoulders immediately relaxed, dropping as the furrowed crease between his forehead softened.

As your lips molded with his perfectly, Jungkook felt his walls start to drop, brick by brick. Your hands held his face tightly, each kiss feeling like a battleground where you both fought with your mouths instead of words. The taste of bitterness mingled with the intoxicating sweetness of longing-a drug that left Jungkook craving more as you tore apart to catch your breath.

Heat surged through your veins, a fiery storm of conflicting emotions raging within. Each touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a hunger you couldn't deny, even as anger simmered beneath the surface. Before you could say anything, Jungkook grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

Your body melted against his, a wave of warmth flooding your senses as his lips met yours again.

It was a moment you had dreamed of, yearned for with every fiber of your being, and now it was here, surpassing all of your wildest expectations. Time seemed to stand still, allowing you to savor every precious second of it.

"Use me," you moaned between the kisses as you gasped for air.

"Forget about everything and just focus on me." You gasped as his lips shut you up once again.

His hands caged your face as his lips molded against yours. Tongues danced together, exploring each other with an unspoken hunger, lost in the intoxicating rhythm of the kiss.

"Fuck, I should've kissed you sooner," Jungkook groaned, his hand sliding gently into your hair. He tugged it back, exposing your neck to his hungry gaze.

A shiver of anticipation raced down your spine as his lips found a new place to explore.

His head dipped to your neck, peppering kisses all over. A soft moan left your lips as he sucked on your sweet spot, leaving a red-purple mark on your collarbone. "So pretty," he said before capturing your lips with his again.

As your lips molded together, a surge of clarity washed over him, drowning out the incessant whispers of addiction that had haunted his mind for so long. With each kiss, the cravings faded into oblivion, replaced by a singular focus- you.

"We shouldn't be doing this," Jungkook groaned as your lips made contact with his neck. The sucking sensation of your lips had him throwing his head back with a heavy sigh. His hands tightened on your waist before pulling you up from the floor onto his lap. "I don't care," you breathed out, pulling him in closer to you. A loud groan ripped out of Jungkook as you sucked on the nape of his neck.

"Baby, I don't wanna take advantage of you," Jungkook said between kisses as you held his face to kiss him roughly. A sudden wave of heat rushed down to your center as Jungkook tried to pull back, only for his bulge to rub against you.

"Use me," you moaned, your arms pulling him into you.

His head rested over your chest, listening to your heartbeat. A shiver ran down his spine at your words.

"Baby, please," he pleaded, his eyes shut from the pleasure of your hips rubbing against him at a slow, almost agonizing pace. All he could think of was you.

"Look at me," you said, your hands holding his face to make him look at you. The once dull, empty eyes he came in with were now long gone, replaced with a sad, almost yearning look. His pupils were dilated as he looked at your face.

"I want you. I want all of you," you started. He nodded, his face the most vulnerable you had ever seen on him, which created a warm, fuzzy feeling in your stomach.

"And I want you to use me," you confessed, your voice trembling with honesty.

As your lips lingered against his, you breathed out the words, your voice a gentle plea, "Let me be the one you turn to when the cravings hit, the one who reminds you of all the reasons to stay, because every time you choose me over drugs, you're choosing yourself. You're choosing us."

Jungkook fumbled with his bottom lip, biting it as he felt his heart slowly start to mend itself. He was sure when he left your room earlier that day that you would never want to talk to him again. But here you were, not giving up on him, instead believing in him. Jungkook's lip trembled before a tear fell down his cheek.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice cracking. The words hang in the air, the complete opposite of how your heart is feeling. Before you can reply, he's pulling on your shirt and smashing his lips onto yours.

The kiss was desperate, filled with unspoken words and emotions. His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer as if he couldn't bear to have any distance between you. His hands clutch at you as if you're his lifeline, grounding him in this moment.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Jungkook's tears mix with your own as the intensity of the moment overwhelms you both.

Your lips part for a breath, and in the brief pause, you see the raw emotion in his eyes. It's a look of longing, of need, of a love that's been buried beneath layers of pain and addiction. Without another word, you capture his lips again, pouring all your love and hope into the kiss.

Jungkook's walls crumbled completely as he let himself be vulnerable, feeling your warmth and acceptance enveloping him. The kiss deepened, both of you losing yourselves in the moment, letting the world outside fade away.

Finally, you broke apart, both gasping for breath, foreheads resting against each other. Jungkook's eyes were no longer empty but filled with a mixture of love, determination, and a glimmer of hope. You cupped his face, your thumbs gently wiping away his tears.

"We'll get through this together," you whispered, your voice filled with unwavering conviction. "One step at a time."

Jungkook nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I promise I'll try," he said softly, his voice laced with sincerity.

You smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "That's all I ask." Before capturing his lips with yours once again.

You moan into the kiss, and your hands move to his hair, pulling, messing, and tugging. His hands drop to your bare thighs beside him, caging him in. A small whimper makes past the kiss when he dips his finger onto the waistband of your black small shorts you wear underneath your school skirt.

The feeling was foreign, but it felt right. When his fingers dipped into your panties a loud moan was coming out of you. "Shh, baby, your parents will hear you.” Jungkook whispers. “Not here; gone for the weekend.” You pant as you feel his middle finger dip between your delicate folds, spreading your wetness over your clit.

You never had anyone touch you this way; the only thing that has ever come close to your center were your fingers, but as he enters one of his digits, it makes you realize your fingers were nothing compared to this. “Ah-fuck,” you moan, your head falling onto his shoulders.

“So fucking tight, holy shit.” Jungkook exclaims as he adds another finger to your soaking cunt. Your back arches as he pumps his two fingers in and out of your hole, and your hips roll on his lap, trying to relieve your clit. You let out a whine when he pulled them out, but it was quickly replaced with a loud, heavy sigh of relief when three fingers pressed hard on your clit, rubbing circles.

“That feels so good; don't stop.” You cry into his ear; your pussy pulsates on his fingers. The pleasure from his fingers on your pussy has you digging your nails into his arms. “Do you like being fingered?” Jungkook asks as he inserts three fingers, stretching you out. “Yes, fuck yes.” you moan heavily. Your walls clench around Jungkook's fingers anytime he curls them into your g-spot, sending waves of shock to unravel in your abdomen. The squelching sound of your pussy mixes with your loud moans, making Jungkook's dick harden underneath you.

“My bed,” you pant, your eyes shut close as he continues to rummage his fingers into you. Jungkook gives a hum and nod of acknowledgement before pulling his fingers out of you, picking you both up in a quick, swift motion before dropping you on the bed with a squeal.

Jungkook lets out a small, breathy laugh, and his fingers fumble on the button and zipper of his jeans. Your breath gets caught up in your throat when he drops his pants on the ground, revealing the outline of his cock in his boxers. Your eye of vision suddenly went up to his chest when he took his shirt off in a split second, giving you a sight of small scars and bruises on his ribs, sending a punch to your stomach.

Your heart squeezed in your chest when he suddenly realized what you were staring at. You quickly made your way to the end of your bed, pulling him closer. Your lips dropped to the side of his rib cage, leaving a little chaste kiss on one of his bruises. A shaky breath leaves Jungkook as he watches you kiss every single purple, reddish mark and scar on his body.

Jungkook puts a finger under your chin before tilting it up, and your teary eyes make contact with his. 

“Hi.” He whispers softly.

“Hi.” You whisper back, a small smile plastered on Jungkook's face, before his lips make contact with yours. His hands this time worked on pulling down your shorts, which ended up taking your light pink-drenched panties down as well. Heat flowed through your body even though it was freezing in your house. You both broke apart from the kiss when Jungkook pulled on your shirt, pulling it over your head. 

The white shirt gets added to your guy's discarded clothes on the floor, and your hands wrap around his neck before pulling him down with you onto the bed. “M’gon squish you to death.” Jungkook groans as he lifts his weight on you, “What a heavenly way to die.” You joke, cracking a small smile at Jungkook.

You couldn’t even think of anything else because, before you knew it, Jungkook was in between your legs, sucking on your folds. The feeling was unfamiliar, but it felt so good. Your legs squeezed both sides of his face, caging him. His tongue worked magic on you, flicking his tongue all over your pussy. Your hands tangled with his messy raven hair, pulling harshly whenever he would suck on your clit for a little too long.

Your chest heaves as you try so hard to catch your breath. Jungkook moves his head from side to side erratically, earning a pornographic sound from you. Your walls clenched on Jungkook's fingers as he pumped them rapidly. “I’m g-gonna cum,” you cry out, your back arching as he hums onto your center, sending vibrations all over your body.

Your mind is fogged up with invisible smoke, and your lungs burn as you hold onto your breath. Your teeth bite roughly on your bottom lip to contain the moans that are threatening to spill out of you. Before you could say another word, white dots blurred your vision. "Your body squirms into Jungkook's face, coming in a loud moan.

“Hurts, ah” You cry, and a low chuckle rumbles against you as he begins leaving between your legs, but not before dropping a kiss on your inner thigh. Your thighs are pressed together, and your legs are sore as your center aches for more. “Felt good?” Jungkook kisses your cheek, and you nod with a whiney hum as his hand wanders behind you, unclasping your white cotton bra and untangling it from your arms before throwing it somewhere on the floor. Jungkook didn't waste any time putting his mouth on one of your nipples. His warm tongue plays with your bud, sucking, toying, and licking. Your head rolls back as your hands behind his head push him into you more.

“You're so good at this; should I be worried?” You moan as he grinds his hard-clothed length into you. “Don't think about that, baby.” He replies that a sad tone in his voice makes your heart feel as if it were being stabbed. “Oh.” You let out a sigh, and Jungkook planted a kiss on your collarbone. 

“I'm a virgin,” you say, tilting your head to the side to catch a look at Jungkook's face. His brows furrowed slightly before he dropped another kiss on your neck. “I’m not.” Jungkook says, planting a chaste kiss on your cheek. “What a slut.” You joke, playfully rolling your eyes, earning a laugh out of him. “You're annoying.” Jungkook laughs, his head dropping down beside the crook of your neck.

“But you love me.” You pip, moving your body underneath him, making him chuckle.

 “But I love you.” Jungkook looks up, a small smile displayed on his lips. “If I were having sex with someone I care about and love,” He whispers, “This would be my first time as well.” Jungkook finishes, making your heartbeat skyrocket. You feel as if you were on the moon, flying around with the stars.

“Pinky promise.” You smile, you raise your pinky finger up in front of his face, and you watch how he tangles his pinky with yours before smashing his lips with yours. “Pinky promise.” He whispers back into your lips. 

Kissing Jungkook was everything and more than you had ever wished for; his soft, cracked lips molded against yours, fitting like perfect puzzle pieces. “Fuck me, please.” You whine, and your hips rise up, trying to rub yourself against him, which has him pushing your hips down into the mattress with his tattooed hand. “Be patient, baby,” he whispers into your ear.

“Please,” you cry. Your hand slides between you both, palming him over his boxers and making him groan. “Please, fuck me.” you beg this time. Your palm squeezes his cock, making him thrust into you. 

Jungkook didn't reply; instead, he pulled down the last remaining clothing item that was covering him. He opened your legs, a shaky breath left your lip, and your eyes took him. His hair disheveled in a brown mess, his lips puffy and red, and the most mischievous grin on his face had your stomach fluttering with fireworks and roller coasters.

“Nervous?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow as he settles between your legs; his length rubs against your cunt. “It's big,” you bite your lip, as you look between you both. Jungkook bites his lip as he moves closer, placing his cock on you, his tip reaching your belly button. “It’ll fit, if that's what you're wondering.” Jungkook lets out a small snicker, and his thumb runs against your bottom lip.

“It's going to hurt, right?” You ask, your voice low and filled with lust, has heat rushing to Jungkook's cock. "Yes, baby, you’ll probably bleed a bit. But I promise it'll feel so good.” He comforts you; kisses are peppered all over your face, easing your nervousness. “Does this mean we are basically doing blood oaths?” You joke, your heart fluttering  when he lets out a deep, throaty laugh.

Jungkook opens your legs, his eyes drop to your glistening pussy, and your juices spill onto your pink sheets. His hand wraps around his cock, tugging roughly before slapping it on your pussy, making you let out a choked moan. "Ah,” you moan.

“Fuck.” Jungkook curses, "Baby, I don't have a condom,” he remembers. 

“I'm on the pill.” You rush out and say, “I got on them for my periods.” You explain which Jungkook nods. “You sure? We don't have to right now, baby,” Jungkook says, only to be received with a disapproving head nod from you. “No, I want you right now.” You say, your hand wrapping around his cock, giving it a small pump. 

You moan when you place his cock in front of your entrance, and with a small, reassuring smile, Jungkook is pushing his cock into you. “Ah, oh, my god.” You moan, and pain shoots up through your body as he pushes his length into you inch by inch, giving you time to get accustomed. “I know I'm sorry, baby.” Jungkook coos, dropping kisses all over your face as you feel his cock go in deeper. 

“So full.” You moan when his cock is fully in. Your fingertips dig into his back, leaving crescent moons. “Hurts?” He asks, his thumb rubbing your clit trying to help ease the pain. “A little.” You reply before giving him the green light to move. 

Jungkook's movements started slow, pulling his cock out of you and leaving his tip in before pushing in again at the slowest pace. Jungkook's eyes squeezed shut at the intense pleasure his body was feeling. Making him forget everything outside of this moment. You clench around him whenever he hits your g-spot.

The pain turns into pleasure as jungkook plunges into you at a faster pace. Your headboard hits your wall over and over, matching his thrusts. “Taking me so fucking good, fuck.” Jungkook groans, your moans mixing with the sound of the squelching of your juices.

Your mind is hazy, your bodies are hot. As beads of sweat start to form on Jungkook's forehead, a moan flushes out of you when he pushes one of your legs backwards, picking up his pace.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he hits the spot in you repeatedly. Drool starts dripping down the sides of your mouth, and your hands find your sheets tugging hard, turning your knuckles white.

“So good.” You cry out; his thrusts are harder, knocking the air out of your lungs, making you gasp for air each time he slams into you. Jungkook's cock twitches in you as he presses slightly on your belly, making a bulge of his cock appear inside of you.

“I’m going to cum,” you moan. “Not yet, baby, not yet.” Jungkook groans, pulling out. He flips you onto your stomach, presses your legs together before slipping into your pussy again with a loud groan.

"Shit, so fucking tight.” Jungkook moans, His hands squeeze your ass as he fucks you from behind. Your moans and screams get muffled by how you bite into your pillow. The position had him being able to go deeper, and tears started streaming down your cheeks. 

“I’m going to cum.” You scream into your pillow, as he grunts with each thrust he fucks into you. “Come baby.” He groans, giving your waist a squeeze of reassurance. He didn’t have to tell you twice, your orgasm all over his cock. Your body shakes, and you clench hard around him. His eyes roll to the back of his head as he spills into you.

Your bodies heave heavily, as he fucks you both through your orgasm. Soft moans and whines leave your lips as he pulls out of you, and the white fluid drips out of your hole, making Jungkook groan in satisfaction.

“Are you okay, baby?” Jungkook asks, his tone sweet and gentle as he flips you over to your back, catching a glimpse of your red cheeks and teary eye expression. “I think I just had an out-of-body experience.” You chuckle. Jungkook's eyes look over your body, looking for any bruises, but are met with none, which makes him sigh in relief.

“Yeah?” Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows, dropping a kiss on your lips before getting up from your bed and making his way to your vanity. He opens a couple of your drawers before picking up the package of wet wipes and making his way back to you.

“We need to change your sheets, baby.” Jungkook comments as he takes notice of the blood stain on them. He pulls one of the wipes out of the package, wiping you clean in a delicate manner. When he finished cleaning you up, he followed along with cleaning himself before disposing the wipes in your trash can beside your bed. 

He also quickly changes your sheets before jumping into bed with you. His head lies on your chest. Hearing your steady heartbeat, your fingers work on his back muscles as he relaxes further into you. The sound of rain outside pebbles against your window.

As you both lay intertwined, your breaths slowly returning to normal, Jungkook felt an overwhelming sense of peace wash over him. The familiar gnawing urge for drugs was conspicuously absent, replaced entirely by thoughts of you. Your touch, your warmth, and your love.

And for the second time in his life, the voices finally stopped as he fell asleep to the sound of your breathing.

[babystarcandyrecs]

✨the smuttiest smut!✨

this are the crown jewels (in smut terms). Still updating!! namjesus take the wheel

✨jungkook✨

🌷 gamer by @badbtssmut

🌷 center of attention by @bangtanintotheroom

🌷 antidote by @gimmethatagustd

🌷 don't tease by @borathae

🌷 the thrill of the show by @jiminsafairy

🌷 just friends by @kinktae

✨taehyung✨

🌷 taehyung f*kng his bestie in fron of his gf by @badbtssmut

🌷 taehyung and jungkook using their roomate by @badbtssmut

🌷 s*x show by @badbtssmut

🌷 music s*x by @xpeachesncream

🌷 girls in bikinis by @bratkook

🌷 silver and blue series by @untaemedqueen

🌷 drive you fucking crazy by @borathae

✨jimin✨

🌷 sleepover with bestie by @badbtssmut

🌷 exposure by @dreamyjoons

🌷 detective by @badbtssmut

✨namjoon✨

🌷 namjoon teaching the macknae line how to please his gf by @badbtssmut

🌷milking by @dreamyjoons

🌷 like no one's watching by @4joonkookie

✨hoseok✨

coming soon!

✨yoongi✨

🌷 honeysuckle by @rroseselavyyy

🌷 the landlord by @ppersonna

🌷 the one where he takes polaroids of you riding him by @taintedjeon 

🌷kinktober day 21 by @dreamescapeswriting

🌷 i'm the king, i'm the boss by @untaemedqueen

🌷give me a taste by @back2bluesidex

✨seokjin✨

🌷 amazon position by @borathae

🌷like this? by @jeongi

🌷 view by @noteguk

✨multiple✨

🌷 movie night (ot7) by @badbtssmut

🌷 sleepover (jimin x reader x seokjin) by @peachypinkygloss

🌷 damn the charcuterie board (jimin x reader x yoongi) by @bratkook

🌷 freeuse manager (macknae line) by @badbtssmut

🌷 roomates (jungkook x reader x taehyung) by @badbtssmut

🌷 tiddy f*ckers (the wrong girl drabble) (jimin x reader x jungkook) by @smoljimjim

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[jiminsafairy]

the thrill of the show - jungkook (cam couple +18)

pairings :bf!jungkook x gf!reader

summary: your boyfriend Jungkook comes up with the idea of starting your own cam channel with the excuse of making some extra cash

warnings: live sex (cam couple), tities, a lot of titties! unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, guys), bj, doggy style, he cums in her tits, they are so in love

wc:2k

a/n: this is my first fic, it took me a while to muster up the courage to post anything here... also english is not my first languaje so excuse my mistakes, be nice!!

"You want us to do what!?" you say, almost choking on your coffee.

"I said, ‘why don't we start a sex cam channel’?" repeats Jungkook on a Thursday morning, while both of you are having breakfast before leaving to the gym.

“Have you gone mad!?” you say.

"Come on, babe, it'll be fun! we get to do what we love and gain a bit of extra money from it. I know how bad you wanna change our couch" your boyfriend says, pointing at the old beat out red couch.

You nod. He was right. You have been dreaming about changing that hideous piece of furniture since you moved to the apartment a year ago. That thing was uncomfortable as hell. Always ended up with sore knees after being fucked on it.

"I give you one chance, one, you hear me?" you state, putting one finger up, "and if I'm somewhat uncomfortable with the whole thing, we immediately cut".

"I wouldn't do it other way, love" coos your boyfriend, giving you a quick peck, "I'm gonna go sign up on the site and set my camera" says disappearing through the kitchen door.

That is how you ended up in this situation, lying in bed with your boyfriend, only wearing a black lace set of lingerie.

"Baby, don't you think you went a bit overboard buying all of… this?" you say pointing at the two — very expensive looking, one might say —softboxes directed at you both, and the 27”-inch new monitor displaying your almost naked image.

"Not at all love, we need to have the best equipment in order to succeed" says Jungkook with a grin, "shall we begin?" he says signaling to the 'start live' button. “You do the honors, babe”.

You reach for the laptop and click on the button, "Here goes nothing" you say, going back to bed.

"And now we wait for people to join us" says Jungkook, placing his hands behind his head and leaning against the pillow "oh look! we have our first viewers!” says excited, “We are Jungkook and y/n, this is our first time doing this so please be good to us".

[imyourdaddy94]: why are they just layin in bed? booooriiingggggggg, imma get out here if you don't start doin something

[punish__me]: you look cute, but I won't subscribe if all you do plan to do is just cuddling

[sugar.tits88]: hey guys, you know this is supposed to be a live sex channel, right...? im leaving

"No, no, guys!" says Jungkook sounding alarmed, "we are fun, please, stay!" he turns to you, placing one hand on your neck and other one on the small of your back, "let's show them how fun we can be".

He starts kissing you, and you reciprocate. You were feeling shy at first, but as the kiss progressed, you started to get more onto the idea of being watched by strangers on the internet.

Your right hands grasps the back of his neck pushing him closer to you. Jungkook breaks the kiss, looking at the chat again, and smiles to you.

[imyourdaddy94]: show us her tits!

"Look babe, they want to see your tits, should we show them?" says Jungkook placing one hand on the small of your back and going upwards. You nod, giving him permission.

Jungkook unclasps your bra, helping you sliding it down your arms, showing everyone your large, round breasts. He starts planting small kisses on your neck, going all the way down, grabbing your big breasts with his hands, massaging them.

"Can I?" says Jungkook with his lips close to your nipple, ,"would you let me suck your pretty tits?, he asks. The feeling of his warm breath hitting your sensitive flesh is driving you crazy

“Just do it already Jungkook!" you whimper, raising your voice. You need his mouth on your nipple.

[sugar_tits88]: uh, she's feisty...i like her

You hear the sound of the tips filling the room. You are getting that couch. Your boyfriend chuckles at your tone, lips closing around your left nipple, while pinching the other one. "Oh God Jungkook, don't stop!" you moan.

"My girl loves having her pretty titties sucked, right?" he says, while he keeps sucking at your breasts, switching between nipples. Mouth on one nipple, tattoed hand pinching the other. you let out a needy moan, enjoying the feeling.

Your hand travels south, palming his length from the outside of his black Calvin's.

"I wanna suck your cock" you say panting.

"You want to stuff your pretty mouth with my cock? Is that what you want?" he asks, already knowing the anser.

"Yes, please!", you plead.

"Alright then. Could you take my cock out for me, love?" he asks, going back to taking your nipple in his mouth.

You take his cock out and start stroking it, from the base to the tip. "Mmm...so big..." you say, loving the feeling of your boyfriend's big cock in your hand.

 [punishme__]: look at that thing!! its fucking huge!! subscribing

Jungkook releases your nipple with a loud pop, giving your tits one last squeeze. He proceeds to lay on the bed, stroking his cock at a steady pace, tattoed hand going up and down his shaft.

"What my baby wants my baby gets” Jungkook says with a chuckle, "come here", says palming the space next to him. "I don't wanna brag guys, but her cock-sucking skills are amazing" he chuckles.

Strangers watching you getting your tits sucked made you so horny that you want to give them your best performance. Getting on your knees, you grab his cock by the base, and start pressing small kisses at the tip.

Feeling his cock twitch, you start giving long licks up and down his shaft. You hear him whine, and you wrap your lips around the tip, licking all the pre cum. Jungkook moans, reaching for your nipples and pitching them, “that’s it babe, keep going, wanna fuck that pretty mouth of yours”.

You take his whole length on your mouth, trying to avoid the gag reflex. Jungkook starts bucking up his hips, fucking your mouth, “look at you, taking all this cock in your pretty little mouth. Bet you love having people looking at you while you suck me”.

You moan, nodding, mouth full of cock. “Fuck love, if you keep going at it like that I’m gonna cum in your mouth, and I want to fuck you first” he phants. “On your hands and knees babe, facing the camera, let them see those big tits bounce” Jungkook demands, and you obey.

Getting on all fours, you place yourself facing the camera, watching the lewd image that the both of you portray through the monitor. Jungkook gets behind you, reaching for the hem of your lace panties.

He bends down and start giving small kisses at your back, while tugging at your underwear. Panties off, he kneads your ass checks, “Ready babe?” he asks giving your ass a loud smack. His hand gets to your pussy, placing one finger inside your needy hole “you are so wet y/n, it is all for me? Or is it because people are watching you?” he says, adding another digit.

“All for you, it’s all for you", you state.

"Liar" he says, taking his fingers out of your pussy and licking them clean. “You taste so good baby”.

[badgirlie444]: eat her out!!!

“Look babe, they want me to eat you out…but I think we’ll leave that out for another time” he says. Grabbing his cock by the base, he gets closer to you.

“Please Kook, want your big cock inside me” you plead, “want you to fuck me numb”. He starts rubbing it up and down your needy slit.

“Like I said before, what my pretty girlfriend wants, she gets” he says entering your pussy with one hard thrust. You moan at the feeling, big cock filling your needy hole.

“God, you are so tight” he moans between thrusts, “such a tight pussy, taking this big cock so well”.

Moans mixed with the sound of the tips coming nonstop fill the room. Your sweaty bodies making the lewdest sounds.

“Harder, please, want you to fuck me harder” you plead, tits bouncing, pussy clenching around his big cock “I want to feel your cock as deep and hard as you can, I need you close”. He starts thrusting harder, cock hitting near your cervix. “That is how you like it mm? such a dirty girl”, he says, giving your ass another slap. You moan in response, just enjoying the feeling of his cock pounding into you.

[cckaddicted]: look at those tits bounce!!! I love you guys

Jungkook grabs your tits on his hands and motions you to get back on your knees and lay against him. Hands pinching your nipples while keeps thrusting inside your needy pussy. “C’mon baby, moan for them, let them know who’s making you feel this good” he coos at your ear. You moan loudly, lost in pleasure.

His right hand leaves your nipple and reaches for your clit, rubbing it slowly. You cannot stand it anymore, you need to cum, “I’m close baby, please make me cum” you implore, hips bucking against his.

He starts rubbing your clit harder, applying more pressure on the sensitive bud, “my dirty girl wants to cum, mmh?” he surprises you with a hard slap to your needy pussy, that sending you over the edge.

“I-I’m cumming Kook, p-please don’t stop, please!” you cry, cumming on his cock while he keeps up with his thrusts. “That’s it love, cum, I got you,"he coos "you feel so good clenching around my cock” whispers your boyfriend next to your ear, as he keeps stroking your clit, helping you ride your high.

Once you get back to reality, you feel his thrusts getting sloppier, and you know he’s getting close to cumming, needy hands grabbing onto your flesh.

Left hand still pinching your nipple, he places two tattoed fingers inside your mouth, and you suck them as if it was his cock. “Baby I’m close, you feel so good, I’m gonna cum, god, I’m so close” he says between moans. “Where do you want me?” he asks you, feeling his release getting closer and closer.

“Tits” you answer.

He takes his cock out your pussy and gets up to stand next to the bed’s edge, and you feel your pussy clench at the feeling. You already miss him, wishing he could be inside you forever.

You, who are still on your knees, crawl on the bed, putting your tits at the same height as his cock. “That’s it, love, press them together for me, would you do that?” he asks, hand stroking up and down his shaft, putting more pressure on the tip.

You press your tits together, looking at him in the eye. God, he’s so handsome. And all yours.

“I’m so close baby,” he whines as he fastens his pace. You kneel a bit, getting close to hiim, and put your tongue out, licking the tip.

That sends him over the edge “I’m cumming, give me your tits”. After a few more strokes you feel the warm spurts of cum landing on your tits, ”I’m cumming so hard”. He keeps stoking his cock, getting all the cum out. He slaps his cock against your tits, smearing all the cum, and you get your tongue out to clean him up.

“That was…something” he says between pants. You laugh as you get up, giving him a passionate kiss. Your cum covered tits press against his chest.

Once you are a bit more relaxed, you decide to look at the chat. Jungkook reads a few of them out loud, happy with the aftermath of your little show.

[cckaddicted]: that was so hot! you have one new subscriber

[gddgirl4]: I hope you guys don’t mind I got my vibrator out for this I came so hard

“Look babe, they liked it!”, says happily, “thank you so much monsterdick74 for the tip! Thank you all”, he replies to a few more comments, making small talk. He tells the chat that this was not a one-time thing, and that you are planning on doing more live streams more often.

“Same time tomorrow? What do you guys think?” he asks the chat. Everyone is excited, and the subscriber count keeps going up. “That was all for today guys, see you!” pressing on the ‘end of live’ button, you see the chat disappearing, going back to being only you two.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to do this again tomorrow, right babe?” you say, filled with excitement.

“I gues we finaly getting that couch” he says, laughing.

[aft3rhrs]

dis idea just popped n my head (feel free to ignore dis 😔) how abt stripper oc nd obsessed mafia jk aaaaaaaaaa like they went to a bar to blow some steam off nd he found oc nd is now obsessed w her

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: strangers to lovers, mafia!au

warnings: yandere, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence and organised crime, stripper!oc, possessiveness, obsession, soft daddy dom!jk 🫣, daddy kink 😶‍🌫️, dry humping, choking, hints of sadism & masochism, dirty talk, praise <3, edging, mentions of orgasm denial, rough sex, aftercare (basically he's an animal but also a simp)

The way you danced was hypnotizing. His eyes followed the sway of your hips from side to side, until all he heard was his own pulse, ticking like a clock. It pulled him into a trance, leaving his drink forgotten and the rest of the world blurred.

The thrill of inevitable eye contact flipped a switch.

From victim to predator, Jungkook leaned back, legs spread comfortably. The heavy, golden chains on his neck gleamed in the dim lights of the club, matching the rings adorning his tattooed fingers. His look and his status certainly attracted attention; but Jungkook didn't notice nor care.

He didn't even know what Namjoon and Jin were talking about. His muscles were heavy with pent up tension, heat only growing the longer he watched you.

One thing was obvious; Jungkook was not a man who ever held back from going after the things he wanted.

And in that moment, he knew he wanted you.

"Quit."

The whisper warmed your neck, the wall he cornered you against cooling your flushed cheek.

"I'll take care of everything," he let his lips brush the shell of your ear, coaxing a shiver. "Take care of you. You'll never have to lift a finger."

He didn't want you to go inside. Past these doors, he'd lose any grip he had on you, your body no longer yours, or his. It would belong to the crowd.

And Jungkook was patient until he wasn't. Grinding against you and pleading, utterly weak. A word he never thought would apply to him.

"No," you breathed softly. "You don't want to help me. You want to own me."

Jungkook stilled behind you. He swallowed thickly, a veiny, inked hand tentatively touching yours.

"Would that be so bad?" He asked. "Being mine?"

A question too complex to answer now, when he was imprinted all over your senses. The smell of his cologne, potent and familiar. His voice and his touch, sinking in through your skin as easily as embers. Leaving you glowing, burning hot and stained black all over. Like something from hell itself has crawled out to lay its claim on you.

You took in a deep breath, attempting to hold yourself together.

"Give me some time."

Jungkook sighed. His head dropped to your shoulder.

Time.

He felt himself going soft. The blood no longer rushing south, but to his heart instead, making it twist and thrum. He could wait forever; if that didn't mean having to share you. The thought alone made him feel sick. He'd sooner burn the club down.

"Come over later?"

The suggestion came with a butterfly kiss on the nape of your neck.

It wasn't surprising that he let you go. However, it also wasn't surprising that he ended up renting out a private lounge, buying most of your time for the day.

It barely took a few minutes before you were sitting on his lap, feeling his hands caress your thighs. You belonged to him, as he belonged to you, your body meant for his eyes only. He liked giving you a different pole to work on; and you liked taking it. And he knew it was your favorite, from the way it made you drip and quiver.

A few long weeks have passed since you started sleeping together; months, even. Always devoted to learning what made you feel good, Jungkook was well aware he could let loose. Lay you down on the table and kiss you until you couldn't breathe, knead and lick wherever he wanted.

His pants were barely off, slipping lower when he started fucking you, slow but rhythmic in his thrusts. He knew what he was doing to you — felt it in the desperate grip of your swollen cunt. You'd forgotten your place, and it was his job to remind you where it was. Sometimes, punishments were necessary.

Enjoyable, too. The softness of your helpless body, the glaze in your eyes.

"You want to come, baby?" The loving murmur taunted, tickling your lips hotly. "Can't do it on your own?"

You whined softly, shaking your head. Jungkook chuckled, the sound raspy.

"Not such a big girl, after all. You need your daddy, don't you, my love? It's okay," he promised, "let daddy do grown up things like thinking for you."

The feeling of your sticky pussy clenching had him leaking with you, drawing a hiss out of his mouth, prompting his hips to pump faster.

Your nails dug into his shoulder blade, your body pulling him in deeper, closer; arousal tense and heavy deep in his balls, preparing to explode. The table started shaking with you, and Jungkook snaked his hand around your dainty throat, adorning it with the gold of his rings.

"Tell me you will." He pleaded again. "You wouldn't break your daddy's heart, right? I love you so fucking much. Tell me you're mine."

Your orgasm was in his hands, and so was your heart. If he had to cream your cute, little hole three times and leave you an aching mess, crying and trembling for release, he would. Until you remembered who you needed more than air and the lesson would stick. It wasn't exactly a challenge.

He was so in love with your cunt, like with the rest of you, the sensitivity thrumming through his cock felt divine. He could stay buried inside you forever, spent, sated, and still hard, like a horny teenager. He could die happy if it was by your side. And that was almost terrifying.

Most of all, it was unfair.

He was the one pounding into you, controlling your pleasure; he could take control of your entire life if he wanted.

So why did he feel so helpless? One flick of your finger and he was down on his knees like a king turned servant. And it wasn't fucking fair, but then, love never was, and the shake of your thigh on his hip let him know you were beginning to realise that too.

Panting, Jungkook clenched his jaw and stopped, sweat rolling down his chest. His eyes locked with yours, amorous and dark, peeking at you behind his thick lashes.

"Please," you whispered into his mouth, barely keeping yourself still. "Please, please, daddy."

He groaned. He adored that gleam in your eye, the nervous grip your hands had on the table. His perfect little girl, choosing a good beating from daddy for her pretty pussy over the life she lived. He knew you would.

Because you loved him just as much as he loved you.

Lowering his lips to yours, Jungkook started moving again, swallowing your little cries with sloppy kisses. Something about it so dirty, like he was trying to fill you everywhere, slow, sweet tongue fucking your mouth, and a hard, throbbing cock filling your cunt.

He needed it; needed you full of him. Steadily increasing his pace, skin hitting skin with a vulgar wetness. You needed it, too, your pussy clenching heatedly, as if it wasn't small enough for him already.

"Good fuckin' girl," Jungkook moaned raspily, beginning to lose his breath. "You take daddy's cock so well, it's your only fucking job. Being all pretty and keeping it empty."

He wanted this every day; the pain and the pleasure. He'd take anything you'd be willing to give him and kiss your hands to say his grace. Everything inside him tensed up, and the hot twirl in his abdomen shot up his spine, making the hand on your thigh dig into the flesh.

"Fuck," the filthy groan vibrated against your ear, his lips so close. "Baby, I'm gonna c-come."

Your sweaty chest arched into his, a slurred, breathy whine making him twitch.

"Love you, daddy."

Jungkook gritted his teeth, but he couldn't stop the pathetic whimper that broke through, nor the rush of his hot seed shooting out. He would have been embarrassed by the way his voice broke, if he noticed; even more so if you did. But he was too busy squeezing his eyes shut and groaning; and you were too busy soaking the cock pounding into you, trembling as you took it.

And you took it so well, so fucking eagerly, letting him fill up every inch. Letting him leave you with nothing but him coming down, marks of your love all over you and the lounge. The scent of sex in the air, the wet, messed up table. The pleasant ache that made it obvious your knees would give out if you tried to walk.

The afterglow was among Jungkook's favorites; like light shining through your soul, all starry eyes and warm skin, hearts beating in perfect sync. Absolute clarity in a tender haze.

Back on the leather couch, Jungkook held you close, both of his muscular arms wrapped around your waist. Eyes half lidded, lips warm, roaming your skin to press kisses along your temple. Down to your cheek, a little sleepy in his devotion.

He couldn't remember the last time he longed to get into his bed so much. The difference was that now you would be in it with him, and not just to have sex. He'd get to fall asleep with your head on his chest, all tangled limbs, and wake up nestled in your arms.

It was four in the morning by the time his head hit the pillow. You've dozed off on the way home already, stirring occasionally as Jungkook carried you upstairs and changed you into his shirt. Clinging to him the moment he crawled under the covers.

He held your hand in his, alternating between kissing your palm and your fingers. He was going to put a ring on the one that had a vein connected right to your heart, give you his last name, his children. He had nothing more to offer; his heart, his body, his money, all of that has been yours since the first time.

You could still dance whenever you wanted to, just work for him instead. A private show for your biggest fan, the only customer you needed.

And in the morning you'd find him slipping between your thighs, barely awake as his hips gyrated. Almost like you had a dance of your own, a rhythm that no one else matched, let alone understood.

Perhaps you were made for him. And now that he's found you, he wasn't going to let you go. The past didn't matter; not yours or his. You loved him; and as long as you did, to Jungkook, that was all that mattered.

[colormepurplex2]

Shatter With Me | Epilogue: Room 613

↳ Model!Jungkook x Surrogate!f.Reader ⤜ Surrogacy, Best Friend’s Husband ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 1,481 ⚠️ Breastfeeding, talk of labor, mentions of divorce/infidelity

Next Chapter⇾ (ongoing) ⇽Previous Chapter ◅ Back to story masterlist

You’re sleeping just a few feet away, exhausted from your journey into motherhood. Jungkook isn’t certain he’s ever seen someone so strong and resilient. Nineteen hours of blood, sweat, and tears—watching you bring his son into the world flooded his life with light in the form of cherubic cheeks and the long, dark lashes that fan over them as he slumbers, too.

Jungkook isn’t certain he’ll ever be able to express to you what it all means to him—what he means to him.

Seojun.

The sweet bundle Jungkook can’t bring himself to put down in the bassinet provided by the hospital. He’s afraid if he puts Seojun down that he might miss something. He knows that’s a bit silly, as his son is only a few hours old at this point—but, just in case.

There are a million reasons for the multitude of feelings that are consuming Jungkook right now. But, the foremost is everything in this very room. Room 613, the labor and delivery suite which will be his sanctuary for the next day until he gets to take you and his son home.

Home. That’s another item on the list of reasons. The unit he purchased, the one he surprised you with that special night—the night you pulled down all the walls in and around him—all those weeks ago. He wanted to go to dinner so he could surprise you with the keys. You clearly had picked up on his excitement, but he tried to play it cool…until he got his hands on you, at least, then his control slipped away with each sweep of his hands and pluck of your lips.

Jungkook chose the unit, which just so happened to be in the same complex as his soon-to-be previous condo, that you put at the top of the ‘wants’ list you were keeping. It’s almost twice as big as his old one, boasting an additional bedroom and full bathroom with a private infinity pool and balcony. It’s one of the higher-tier units available in the community.

With the combined efforts between you and himself, plus the additional profit from selling his old unit, it wasn’t that much of a step up as far as cost goes. Plus, it practically comes with built-in babysitters in the form of Taehyung and Jimin. The moment they found out Seojun was welcomed into the world, they hadn’t stopped asking to come see him; all in due time.

For now, though, he wants to enjoy this quiet bubble a little longer—just Seojun, Jungkook, and the woman he has come to love in ways he never thought imaginable. It might have started out as a different kind of love, but it surely has grown and evolved into something he wants nothing more than to covet and foster further.

Jungkook once thought he knew what love was; that what he felt for Jiyoon was love. But, it doesn’t even begin to hold a candle to the inferno you’ve introduced into his heart and soul. You are the sun, blazing bright and all-consuming.

Seojun stirs in Jungkook’s arms, wiggling his arms and hands free of the blanket swaddle; the olive green onesie underneath a gift from Taehyung. Round, sleepy eyes, so like his own, blink up at him. Seojun’s rounded lips, a feature Jungkook is certain he got from you, form into a pucker before popping open in a wide yawn. A small line forms between his son's brows before that yawn turns into a soft whine, and Jungkook automatically goes into comfort mode.

Checking down the mental list, Jungkook changes Seojun’s diaper, pats his back in a soothing manner, and most everything else the half dozen baby books he read suggested for calming fussy babies. When nothing else works to quell Seojun’s soft cries, Jungkook moves over to the bed you’re still sound asleep on and taps you gently on the shoulder.

“Babe,” Jungkook whispers.

It takes you a moment to rouse, your sleepy eyes blinking up at him as you roll over onto your back. A slow smile pulls at your lips as your eyes brighten a bit more once they land on Seojun.

“Is everything okay?”

“I think someone is hungry.” Jungkook gives you a sheepish, lopsided grin. 

You click the button on your bed and it automatically begins to lift into an upright position. “Aw, poor guy. Come here.” Jungkook passes Seojun into your waiting arms.

Jungkook is certain that no matter how many times he witnesses the care you provide to Seojun, he’ll never not be awed by it. It’s not weird or awkward watching as you untie the fastening on your hospital gown and reveal your swollen breasts, if anything, it’s beautiful.

The lactation consultant who came by shortly after Seojun was born explained all the intricacies of breastfeeding and the changes your body might experience. Jungkook finds it utterly fascinating, the way Seojun roots around until his mouth finds what he needs.

You sigh, your lids drooping low as you hide a yawn behind a hand. Exhaustion still lingers in your eyes, but they’re also full of life as they drop from Jungkook’s gaze to Seojun contentedly nursing.

“You’re so beautiful.” Jungkook means that, saying it with as much reverence as he can muster.

“You come here, too,” you tell Jungkook, patting the open space on the bed beside you.

It’s a tight fit sliding in next to you, and Jungkook is certain if a nurse comes in, they might disapprove, but he can’t deny you anything. You lean your head on Jungkook’s shoulder, snuggling into his side the best you can with a baby cradled against your chest.

A comfortable time passes as Seojun takes his fill before falling back into a quiet slumber. You press a soft kiss to Seojun’s brow before passing him back to Jungkook. Jungkook helps you to resecure the drape of your gown and then hooks a finger under your chin and tilts your head up so he can press his lips to yours, whispering encouragement for you to get some more rest.

You smile dreamily up at him before clicking to lower the bed just a bit, and nuzzling further into his side to do just that. Within minutes, your chest is rising and falling with deep, even breaths.

Jungkook isn’t sure what the future holds, but as long as he can have many more moments like this, everything else seems so insignificant. Shifting Seojun in his arms, Jungkook gets comfortable, and his eyes flick up to the TV mounted in the corner of the room. An amused smirk tilts the corner of his mouth as he reads the auto-generated captions scrolling across the bottom of the screen. A news anchor is on the screen, their mouth moving with silent words, the volume on the TV muted.

BREAKING NEWS: ACTOR DOHYUN KIM, FORMER CLIENT OF KIM EXCLUSIVES, CAUGHT IN SALACIOUS SCANDAL. SOURCES SUGGEST HE HAS BEEN HAVING AN AFFAIR WITH HIS MANAGER AND THAT SHE IS CARRYING HIS CHILD…

Shaking his head, Jungkook focuses back on his son. “Jeon Seojun,” Jungkook murmurs in a whisper so soft, it’s more breath than sound so as to not wake you, “one day, I’m going to tell you the story about how you came to be in this world. It’s not going to be as pretty as some stories, but not as sad as others, either. It’s special, unique to you and this beautiful woman sleeping beside us. She doesn’t know it yet, or rather, I haven’t gathered the balls enough to say it to her, but I love her. I really do. Which, some might find a bit crazy, considering it’s only been a short time and everything else we’ve been through…but, I think that makes me love her even more.” Jungkook sniffs, fighting back the sudden tidal wave of emotions threatening to consume him.

You came into his life, a quiet, professional observer who opened an entirely new world for him. He was young and naive, and he wanted nothing more than to be successful and achieve his dreams. Seven years of nothing but support and help helped him achieve all of that and more. Does he wish he had realized his feelings sooner? That he had acted on them before Jiyoon could pull the wool over his eyes?

Sure. He supposes so. Who wouldn’t want that?

But, deep down, Jungkook knows that if he hadn’t experienced the last seven years the way he had, there’s no telling if he would be who he needs to be for you. In many ways, Jiyoon helped him to see exactly what he needed and wanted in a personal capacity. The ups and downs helped him to grow, to learn, and to become the man he is now—the one you and Seojun deserve. 

A man once broken, now slowly being put back together; mended by you.

A/N: Want to see what comes next for JK and his FMC? Mended By You, the follow-up to Shatter With Me, is officially in the works!

The special character POV chapter will come next and tells various events from Jiyoon's perspective across the span of this story, as well as events not seen here 👀

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[shuagirl]

MIDNIGHT INK | JJK

pairings. soft dom!jungkook x fem!reader genres. smut [s] fluff [f]

summary. a faded tattoo marks your heartbreak. desperate for a fresh start, you visit Jungkook, a trusted tattoo artist and secret confidant you secretly love.

warnings. past relationships, heartbreak, and emotional healing, swearing, unprotected sex, lots of kissing, oral sex, missionary position, and implied consensual rough sex.

( marvy ) hellooooo, first post & writting on here. enjoy, lemme know your thoughts :) ... be nice !

Sitting on your bed, you watched your reflection in the mirror, your fingers tracing the outline of the faded tattoo on your lower back. Once a symbol of love, it had become a haunting reminder of heartbreak. You needed to rid yourself of it, something to signify a fresh start.

Finally, you picked up your phone from the desk and called the one person you trusted implicitly.

"Hello?"

"Hey, before you leave, can I get a quick one done on my lower back?" you asked hesitantly. "Trying to get a cover-up."

"Yeah, sure, be here by eleven-thirty, okay?"

"Alright, cool, thanks." You stayed silent for a minute, hoping he'd say more, but the call ended abruptly.

Glancing at the clock, your eyes widened. It was 11:20. With a groan, you grabbed your keys and rushed out. The tattoo shop was only five minutes from your home, but October's chill and early darkness made the journey feel longer.

Despite the recent breakup with your boyfriend, you always found yourself returning to him—Jungkook. He was the man you confided in, sharing all your problems, including tales of your toxic relationship. Though he listened, sometimes distant, you sensed he disliked hearing about your ex. Yet, he was always there when you needed a shoulder to cry on; truth be told, he was the reason you frequented the tattoo shop.

Upon arrival, the sign's lights flickered at the entrance. Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open. Jungkook looked up from his station, his sleeves rolled up, revealing his tattoo-covered arms. His dark, intense gaze swept over you, making your heart flutter.

"Hey," he greeted, a slow smile spreading. "Ready?"

You nodded, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach. "Yeah, thanks for staying late."

"No problem," he replied, his voice low and soothing. He gestured to the tattoo chair. "Take a seat. Let's see what we're working with."

As you settled into the chair, a mix of nerves and excitement coursed through you. Jungkook moved with practised ease, gathering his tools and preparing the area.

"Alright, let's take a look," he said calmly, lifting the back of your hoodie. His fingers brushed against your skin, lingering longer than necessary, sending a shiver down your spine.

Jungkook's gaze flickered to yours, a hint of desire in his eyes before he focused back on your skin. "15th of... December... 2023," he murmured, staring at your tattoo.

Embarrassed, you leaned your head against the seat. "Yeah, that's when we started dating."

He hummed in response, studying the faded tattoo. "This will be a great cover-up. Do you have a design in mind, or want me to freestyle something?"

"I trust you," you whispered. "Just something that represents a new beginning."

Jungkook nodded, his expression serious and thoughtful. "Got it. I'll sketch something out quickly."

You watched as he worked, his hands moving swiftly and confidently. The room was filled with the soft hum of the neon sign outside and the quiet scratch of his pencil on paper. After a few minutes, he held up the sketch for you to see.

"How about this?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for approval.

The design was beautiful—delicate yet bold, perfectly capturing what you wanted. "It's perfect," you grinned.

"Glad you like it. Let's get started," he smiled.

He carefully transferred the design onto your skin, his touch sending another shiver through you. "Ready?" he asked, his voice a low murmur that sent heat pooling in your stomach.

You nodded, unable to find your voice. The first touch of the needle was sharp but bearable. The pain quickly faded into the background, overshadowed by the sensation of Jungkook's hands on your skin. Each touch, each brush of his fingers, felt amplified in the intimate quiet of the shop.

Jungkook worked with steady precision, his eyes never leaving your skin. "You're doing great," he murmured, his breath warm against your back. "Just a little longer."

You tried to focus on the rhythm of his work, but your mind kept drifting to the closeness of his body and his hands' warmth. The tension between you was palpable, each minute passing in a haze of anticipation and desire. His fingers occasionally brushed against your skin in a way that felt more intentional than accidental, sending waves of heat coursing through you.

As the tattoo session continued, you found yourself mesmerized by the sensation of his touch. The combination of the late hour, the dim lighting, and the intimate nature of the session made every moment feel charged with electricity. You could feel the heat of his body close to yours, the soft brush of his breath on your skin.

"How does it feel?" he asked softly, his voice a soothing balm with a dark, underlying current.

"It's... it's good," you managed to reply, your voice shaking slightly. "Thank you, Jungkook."

He smiled, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "Almost done. Just hang in there."

The final strokes of the tattoo machine were almost a relief, though you couldn't deny the pang of disappointment at the thought of his touch ending. When he finally finished, Jungkook leaned back to admire his work, his expression of satisfaction mixed with something deeper.

"All done," he said softly. "Take a look."

You stood up and walked to the mirror, turning to see the new tattoo on your lower back. It was beautiful, a perfect cover-up that transformed an old regret into something new and meaningful.

"Wow," you said, your voice filled with genuine awe. "I love it."

He stepped closer, his gaze intense and dark with unspoken desire. "I'm glad you like it," he said.

For a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, standing in the quiet, dimly lit shop, the air thick with unspoken feelings and charged with undeniable tension.

"Thank you," you whispered, your eyes locking with his.

Jungkook's hand brushed against your cheek, and your heart skipped a beat. His touch was gentle yet firm, his eyes burning with an intensity that made your breath catch. "You're welcome," he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down your spine. "Anytime."

As you stared into each other's eyes, the air between you seemed to crackle with electricity, the line between professional and personal blurring beyond recognition. The tension was almost unbearable, and you found yourself leaning into his touch, craving more.

Jungkook's fingers trailed down your cheek to your neck, his touch igniting a fire within you. "You know," he said softly, his lips just inches from yours, "I've always been here for you. And I always will be."

His hand lingered on your neck, his thumb gently brushing your jawline as he stared into your eyes. The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down your spine, and the air between you crackled with unspoken desire. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, each beat echoing the growing tension in the room.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this," he whispered, his voice husky and filled with longing.

Your breath hitched, and you leaned in closer without thinking, your lips just a breath away from his. The anticipation was almost unbearable, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body, drawing you in.

Unable to resist any longer, you closed the distance, pressing your lips to his in a tentative kiss. Jungkook responded immediately, his lips soft yet insistent against yours. The kiss deepened slowly, fueled by the weeks of suppressed desire and the intimate setting of the tattoo shop. His hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss further. The sensation was electric, sending waves of heat coursing through your body.

Your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt. The sensation of his heartbeat under your palm matched the frantic pace of your own. Every touch, every movement was charged, making your skin tingle with anticipation.

Jungkook broke the kiss, his breath ragged as he trailed kisses down your neck. "God, I've wanted this for so long," he murmured against your skin, his hands roaming over your back, tracing the newly inked tattoo.

You let out a soft moan, arching into his touch. "Me too," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I've wanted you for so long."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark and filled with desire as he looked at you. "Then let's not waste any more time," he said, his voice a low growl.

With a swift movement, he lifted you onto the tattoo chair, positioning himself between your legs. The cool leather against your skin was a stark contrast to the heat building between you. Jungkook's hands slid under your hoodie, pushing it up to reveal more of your skin. He kissed a trail down your collarbone, his fingers deftly undoing the clasp of your bra.

Your breath hitched as he pulled the bra away, his lips capturing one of your nipples in a hot, wet kiss. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as he lavished attention on your breasts, his hands kneading the soft flesh.

"Jungkook," you moaned, the sound of his name a desperate plea on your lips.

He responded by kissing his way back up to your mouth, his tongue parting your lips as he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss. The kiss was deep and fervent, leaving a string of saliva connecting your lips when they parted. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve and dip, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

You could feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, and the sensation only heightened your own desire. With a trembling hand, you reached down, palming him through his jeans. He let out a low groan, the sound vibrating through you and making you even wetter.

"Need you," you gasped against his lips, your voice breathless with need.

Jungkook pulled back just enough to tug off his shirt, revealing the expanse of tattoos that decorated his chest and arms. You couldn't help but run your hands over his skin, tracing the lines of ink with your fingers.

He made quick work of your clothes, stripping you bare before him. The cool air against your heated skin made you shiver, but the look in Jungkook's eyes sent a new wave of warmth through you. He kissed you again, his hands exploring your body with a fervent intensity.

His fingers found their way between your legs, sliding through your wetness with practiced ease. You gasped, bucking into his hand as he teased your entrance.

"You're so wet for me," he murmured against your ear, his breath hot and tantalizing. "I want to taste you."

Before you could respond, he knelt between your thighs, his tongue darting out to taste you. The sensation was overwhelming, and you cried out, your hands gripping the edges of the tattoo chair as he licked and sucked at your most sensitive spots.

Jungkook's tongue moved with expert precision, driving you closer and closer to the edge. Just as you felt the first tremors of your orgasm, he pulled back, his lips glistening with your arousal.

"I want you to come with me inside you," he said, his voice rough with desire.

You nodded, too breathless to speak, and he quickly shed the rest of his clothes. The sight of him, fully naked and aroused, made your mouth water. He positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes locking with yours as he slowly pushed inside.

The sensation of him filling you was indescribable, a perfect mix of pleasure and pressure. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper as he began to move. Each thrust was deliberate and powerful, driving you closer to the edge with each stroke.

Jungkook's hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he moved faster, his breath hot against your neck. "You're mine," he growled, his voice filled with possessive desire.

"Yes," you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders. "I'm yours."

The words seemed to spur him on, and he increased his pace, driving into you with an almost desperate intensity. Your orgasm built rapidly, a tight coil of pleasure that finally snapped, sending you over the edge with a cry of his name.

Jungkook followed you over the edge, his own release shuddering through him as he buried himself deep inside you. He collapsed against you, both of you breathing heavily as the aftershocks of your orgasms coursed through you.

For a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, tangled together in the quiet, dimly lit shop, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat.

"That was..." you began, but trailed off, unable to find the words.

"Amazing," Jungkook finished for you, his lips curling into a satisfied smile.

You nodded, a matching smile spreading across your face. "Yeah. Amazing."

Jungkook pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. "I told you," he murmured, his voice soft and tender. "I'll always be here for you."

You nestled closer to him, savouring the warmth of his body against yours. "And I'll always be here for you," you whispered back, feeling a profound sense of connection and contentment.

Jungkook pulled back slightly, his eyes softening as he looked at you. "We should get cleaned up," he said, but made no move to let you go. Instead, he brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle and affectionate.

You smiled, leaning into his touch. "Yeah, but maybe we can stay like this for just a little longer," you suggested, not ready to break the intimate cocoon that had enveloped you both.

He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I like the sound of that."

The two of you lay there for a while, wrapped up in each other's arms, the quiet of the tattoo shop providing a serene backdrop to your tender moment. The reality of the outside world seemed distant and unimportant compared to the warmth and closeness you shared.

Eventually, Jungkook sighed and pulled away, albeit reluctantly. "As much as I'd love to stay here with you forever, we should clean up and get you home."

You nodded, understanding the practicality of his words even though you wished the moment could last longer. "Okay."

Jungkook helped you off the tattoo chair, both of you moving slowly, savoring the lingering touches and stolen kisses as you gathered your clothes. He was gentle as he helped you dress, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that made you want to pull him back into your embrace.

Once you were both dressed, Jungkook guided you to the small bathroom at the back of the shop. He wet a cloth and began to gently clean the areas of your body that still tingled from his touch. The intimacy of the moment, even in such a simple act, made your heart swell with affection.

"Thank you," you said softly, your voice filled with sincerity. "For everything."

He smiled, his eyes locking with yours in a way that made you feel cherished. "Anytime, Y/N."

With a final, lingering kiss, Jungkook finished cleaning up and walked you to the door. The cool night air was a stark contrast to the warmth you felt inside, but you didn't mind. You knew that the bond you had forged tonight was something special, something that would stay with you long after you left the shop.

As you stepped outside, Jungkook held your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. "Call me when you get home, okay? I want to make sure you're safe."

You nodded, squeezing his hand in return. "I will."

He watched as you walked away, his figure a comforting presence behind you. As you made your way home, you felt a sense of peace and fulfilment that you hadn't felt in a long time. The night had been more than just a tattoo session—it had been a new beginning, a step towards a future filled with promise and love.

Later that night, as you settled into bed, your mind was filled with thoughts of Jungkook, completely forgetting he was waiting for your call.

The intimacy you shared, the way he looked at you, the feeling of his hands on your skin—it all replayed in your mind like a beautiful dream. Just as you were about to drift off to sleep, your phone rang, breaking the silence of the room. The screen displayed Jungkook's name, and your heart skipped a beat.

You answered the call, trying to keep your voice steady. "Hey,"

"Hey," he replied, his voice warm and soothing. "I just wanted to make sure you got home safely."

"I did," you said, feeling a rush of warmth at his concern. "Thank you for checking."

There was a brief silence, filled with the unspoken feelings hanging between you. Finally, Jungkook broke the silence. "I can't stop thinking about tonight, about you, Y/N."

"Me too," you admitted, your voice soft. "Thanks for the special treatment."

"It was special," Jungkook agreed. "I've wanted to tell you how I feel for so long, but I didn't know if you felt the same way."

"I do," you whispered, your heart pounding. "I feel the same way, Jungkook."

He let out a relieved sigh, and you could hear the smile in his voice. "I'm glad to hear that. How about we make this official? Can I take you out to dinner tomorrow night?"

Your face broke into a wide smile, your excitement bubbling over. "I'd love that."

"Great," Jungkook said, his voice filled with warmth. "I'll pick you up at seven. Sweet dreams, Y/N."

"Sweet dreams, Jungkook," you replied, ending the call with a smile.

The next day was a blur of anticipation and excitement. As the evening approached, you found yourself carefully selecting an outfit, wanting everything to be perfect. When the clock struck seven, a knock on your door made your heart race.

Jungkook stood on the other side, looking effortlessly handsome. He greeted you with a bouquet and a shy, endearing smile. "You look beautiful," he said, his eyes filled with admiration.

"Thank you," you replied, feeling your cheeks flush with warmth. "You look great too."

The dinner was perfect. The two of you shared stories, laughter, and tender glances across the table. Every moment felt charged with electricity, the connection between you growing stronger with each passing second. After dinner, Jungkook took you for a walk in a nearby park. The night was clear, the stars twinkling above as you strolled hand in hand.

As you reached a quiet spot, Jungkook turned to face you, his expression serious yet tender. "Y/N, I meant what I said last night. I'll always be here for you. I want to be with you if you'll have me."

Your heart swelled with emotion, and you nodded, tears of happiness brimming in your eyes. "I want to be with you too, Jungkook. More than anything."

He pulled you into a gentle embrace, his lips finding yours in a soft, tender kiss. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in your perfect moment.

The weeks that followed were filled with joy and discovery. Jungkook became not only your lover but your confidant and best friend. Each moment spent together strengthened your bond, and your love grew stronger with each passing day.

You found yourself spending more and more time at Jungkook's apartment, where he would cook for you, and you would talk for hours about everything and nothing. The walls that once seemed to contain just his life now felt like a shared space where your love blossomed.

One evening, as you lay in bed together, Jungkook traced patterns on your skin, his touch sending shivers through you. "I've been thinking about something," he said, hesitating.

"What is it?" you asked, turning to face him.

"I want us to move in together," he confessed, his eyes searching yours. "I want you to be a part of my everyday life, not just the special moments. What do you think?"

Your heart swelled with joy, and you couldn't stop the smile on your face. "I think I'd love that. More than anything."

Moving in together felt like the most natural step in your relationship. You merged your lives seamlessly, finding comfort and joy in the little things—cooking together, late-night talks, and lazy Sunday mornings.

One evening, while unpacking the last of your things, you came across an old photo album. Sitting on the couch, you and Jungkook flipped through the pages, laughing at childhood photos and sharing stories from your pasts. It felt intimate and suitable, a testament to how deeply you trusted each other.

Jungkook pulled you close, his eyes filled with love and promise. "We've come a long way, haven't we?"

"We have," you agreed, resting your head on his shoulder. "And I wouldn't change a thing."

As the evening wore on, you found yourselves on the balcony, watching the sunset. Jungkook wrapped his arms around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. "I can't wait to see what the future holds for us," he murmured.

"Me too," you replied, your heart full of love and excitement. "With you by my side, I know it will be amazing."

As you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, you felt a deep sense of fulfilment and contentment. The journey began with a simple tattoo, which had transformed into a beautiful love story that would continue to unfold with each passing day.

Your past no longer held any power over you; you could embrace a future filled with love, promise, and endless possibilities. Together, you and Jungkook would face whatever came your way, knowing that your love was strong enough to withstand anything.

As you closed your eyes and leaned into his embrace, you knew this was just the beginning of your happily ever after.

(sorry omg i love this pic sm rn 😭😭😭)

SHUAGIRL © 2024. please do not copy, translate, or modify any of my work. all of my works are not permitted to be posted on any other sites.

[ewqjeon]

⚤ BACKSHOTS | JJK

pairings: soft dom!jungkook x sub! bratty!reader

genre: fwb, smut

warnings! grinding, weed, high sex, unprotected sex (pls no), fingering, tit sucking, thumb sucking, praise/spit kink, ass spanking, bigdick!jk, doggy

Jungkook slightly groans as he sits up straight with a groan, grabbing the small grinder off of the low-height wooden table with his left.

"Shit, never knew weed hits harder after a breakup." He chuckles with a scoff. After having gotten the weed and his bong, you soon have a lit blunt in your hand and a smile on your face when the effects of the weed sets in.

"Damn, Koo, this is strong stuff." You comment with a smile, laughing and inhaling another whiff of the scent of the weed.

"I know, right?"

Jungkook replies with a satisfied smile and a nod, taking a huge inhale of the burning end of the blunt which causes his lips to slightly burn. He blows out the smoke in that attractive way that just makes you want to kiss those pierced lips of his right then and there. However, you're too stoned to know what you're thinking or feeling so you just take another hit and chuckle.

"Damn, baby, you're high, aren't you?" Jungkook chuckles while taking the blunt from your mouth, placing it into his own and blowing out that smooth and steady stream of smoke. With the slight slur in your words, the redness of your eyes, and the glazed-over look you're giving him.. he knows you are pretty stoned.

"Hell yeah." You admit with a giggle, leaning back into the comfort of the couch and looking at Jungkook. "You ain't so sober either, pretty boy." You add with a smirk.

"I can handle more shit than you, love." Jungkook chuckles and gives a smirk right back, his glossy dark brown eyes peering into yours and his pupils dilated just a bit from the drug. He exhales the last bit of smoke that he's been holding in and places down the half-smoked blunt onto the table, his lips curved into that cocky little smirk of his.

Jungkook spread his legs, arms on the headrest of the couch with his eyes fixed on you. His gaze wanders down your face and body biting his lip as he does so.

"Damn, baby.. I gotta be honest with ya'.." Jungkook laughs when the drug settles in further and he takes hold of your jaw with his cold and calloused hand. "You are a cute and pretty thing, you know that?" He murmurs, his mouth slightly parted and his eyelashes looking longer than usual. He doesn't let go of your jaw as his cold palm makes you slightly shiver.

"Mhm, you flatterin' me or somethin'?" You murmur, blinking your glazed over eyes. Your skin is more sensitive because of the drug, so you can feel the roughness of his palm much more than you usually would, yet his touch doesn't feel uncomfortable.

With a smirk he pats his lap. "Sit on it, baby."

"Sit on it, you say?" You chuckle, though with no protest and no hesitation your eyes half-lidded, glossy and pink-tinted lips parted with a smirk, you straddle his lap without a second thought feeling his hard cock under his grey sweatpants.

With a satisfied groan Jungkook wraps his tattooed arms around your bare waist, squeezing you. "Oh, look at you... pretty girl on my lap, huh?" He chuckles while looking down at your chest, licking his lips with a smirk.

"You like this? Hm." You hum and chuckle, your hands reaching up to grasp the back of his soft and dark brown locks, pulling at them as you start to move your hips, grinding on him.

Jungkook lets out a satisfied groan at the pull and grind, tilting his head back a bit. Damn, that was a move that nearly sent a shudder through his whole body. His hands grip your waist further, his hips giving a slight buck against yours, his chest rising and falling with light heavy breaths and his eyes never leaving your face. "Mm, that feels good, baby."

A small moan slips from your lips as his hands grip your bare hips further and his hips grind back against yours. "Yeah? Like this?" You ask with a smirk, now grinding your pussy against his hard bulge with more force.

"That's it, baby. Just like that.." He groans, his arms wrapping further around you in a possessive hold that has no intention to let go. "Mm, you're so good at this." He murmurs while looking down just to watch your hips move against him, licking his dry lips again.

"Mhmm." You hum, pulling at his messy hair again to make him look up at you with his glossy doe eyes. You chuckle at that, leaning down to place your lips over his, pulling back ever so slightly with another chuckle before diving back in for a kiss.

His lips are warm and slightly chapped, his tongue eagerly pushing into yours to taste you. His hands grip your back, dragging down your skin just enough to leave faint but red marks behind. As you pull back and chuckle, he bites your lower lip and smirks, squeezing you with a tight grip and pulling you back into another kiss. His tongue invades your mouth once more, dancing and rolling with yours with needy and desire.

As he pulls you in for a second kiss, moaning into your mouth as he explores your wet and hot mouth, you feel his hand slowly finding its way into your shorts, pushing your panties to the side.

His cold fingers touch and rub against your clit, his teeth biting down on your lower lip. "Mm, you're already so damn wet, baby." He groans, his lips planting against the sensitive spot behind your ear that makes you shiver.

"Yeah? 'Cause of you. And nobody else." You moan softly, tilting your head a bit so he has better access while closing your eyes. You can feel his lips and tongue lapping against your neck, leaving hickeys and marking you as his.

He then pushes two fingers into your aching pussy, curling them inside of you.

"Mhm, nobody else but me. That's right, baby." He groans, his lips continuing to kiss and mark down to your collarbones then stopping there to kiss them as his teeth tug on the fabric of your top. "This is comin' off." He states, tugging on the material while looking into your eyes, his dark brown eyes meeting your gaze.

His breath hitches at the sight of the familiar pair of breasts. Nipples hard and so damn gorgeous.

"Fuck, I missed them so much." He murmurs and places his mouth on your left tit, sucking softly.

You throw your head back at the feeling of him having your nipple in his mouth, releasing a few soft moans for him.

He smirks, the feeling of your nipple in his mouth feels like fire. His eyes meet yours, his teeth grazing your nipple gently as he stares at you. "So beautiful, baby. So, so beautiful." He murmurs in a low voice that's only meant for you to hear. His one hand continues to rub your clit, teasing you while the other is squeezing your other tit, his touches almost needy. With your back arched and moan falling from your lips, his eyes watch you with pure unbridled desire and want in his eyes as an attractive laugh falls from his pink lips at the sight of you.

A moan slips past your lips when his mouth places a kiss against your chest, his breath hot against you. “Jungkook..” You giggle and chuckle while reaching for his shirt, tugging on the hem of it as you try to push it upwards.

He sits up at that, raising his arms above his head to allow you to pull his shirt over his head. He gives a smirk when his shirt falls on the ground, the dark ink of his sleeve on display.

“Need something, baby?” He teases.

A pleased gasp leaves your lips when his ink-covered arm is revealed, along with his muscular and toned torso. Your eyes rake up and down his body for a couple seconds before you chuckle and pull on his necklaces. “Shut up, you know what I need.” You scoff with a smirk.

“Oh, I do?” Jungkook chuckles deeply with a smirk at your statement, placing a hand on your neck then gripping it with a tight hold. “And, what’s that? Hm?” He asks with a tilt of his head, his eyebrows raising with a cocky look on his face while looking into yours.

“Your cock.” You grumble with a groan when he grips your neck with a firm but rough grip and his smirk drives you nuts. “Need you, Jungkook.” You murmur almost in a whimper, leaning in to his ear for a whisper while placing kisses on his jaw.

His dark brown eyes peering at you while his hand pushes your head back by your chin and you’re suddenly looking into his eyes. “Need me, huh? Pretty little thing like you needs me?” He chuckles softly and mockingly, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip.

You let out a small whimper at his words, his thumb running across your lower lip which he then taps to get you to open up. So, without any hint of hesitation, you immediately open your mouth wide open for him.

“Good girl. Gonna put that pretty mouth to use." He chuckles lowly at your quick compliance, his thumb slipping between your lips.

You hum at his chuckle, wrapping your lips around his thumb and sucking lightly to tease him. Your tongue swirls around the digit, letting out slightly whimpers and whines as you suck.

You can see Jungkook's adam's apple bob as he swallows thickly, his breath slightly hitched but still steady as to not allow a groan slip past his lips. His thumb presses against your tongue and he leans in to your ear, hot breaths fanning. "Don't tease me, baby.” He whispers, a low but slightly strained chuckle leaving his lips.

"Oh, or what?" You raise a brow at his whispered words. The urge to tease him even more was growing larger and larger, so you lightly bite on his thumb, letting the digit pull out from between your lips. Your tongue slides across the pad of it, smirking when his breath hitches again.

"Fucking slut asked for it."

A gasp is forced out of you when you're suddenly flipped over onto your stomach by Jungkook, your cheek laying against the soft pillows of the couch. You feel his presence above you, before a slap is delivered on your plump cheek.

"Don't act all smart now.” He mutters with an arched brow while rubbing his hand over the red spot his palm left behind, delivering another hard slap on your cheek at the same place.

"Ouch-!" You exclaim with a gasp when he spanks you, feeling that delicious sting from the slap. "Don't get so cocky-" You start to respond sassily, feeling his hand rub over the stinging spot before he slaps you again. Your words get cut off at the sudden slap, a low moan slips from your lips.

"Who was the one being all teasing and bratty? You." He huffs out with another smack that leaves a red handprint behind on your cheek. "Now look at you, moaning for me.” He grunts with an obvious smirk, his hand rubbing his large over the reddened skin.

"Shut the f-fuck up, Jeon." You try to form words, but fail to when the next smack has you moaning out again from the sting and burn of the slap. You look up at him over your shoulder while he rubs over the painful and red skin, giving him a bratty look while biting your lip.

"Mm, you're so pretty." He murmurs while licking his own lips, his eyes raking down your body and the way your chest and cheek are pressed against the cushions. He slaps you once more, his cold fingers touching your burning cheek before his hand slips down to your exposed hip.

"Now lift that ass up for me."

Slowly and teasingly, you wiggle your hips and lift them up, your hands coming down to grip the end of the couch with your chest still pressed down.

His lips spread into an amused smile at your teasing actions, a small sigh escaping him. "That's it, baby. Just like that." He whispers and looks down at you, watching each one of your move and arch of your back. He then reaches for his pants before pushing them down.

Feeling him entering makes you whine into the pillow and gripping the couch. "So big," You whine.

"Fuck, such a tight pussy." He moans as he begins to thrust into you.

Your lips are parted, small moans falling from between them as you rest your head against the pillow. You're unable to see behind you, but feel his hand gripping your hips.

He holds your hair in a ponytail, letting out a small chuckle at the sounds he pulls from you. His other hand's still gripping your hip, his thumb pressing into your skin. "Mngh.." You whimper upon feeling his cock so deep in your pussy, chills running down your body. “J-Jungkook..” You breathe out, the breath of your words shaky with anticipation.

“Do you missed having this cock inside of your pussy?” He murmurs with a small chuckle against your skin.

You slowly nod your head at his words, your breaths shaky and eyes fluttering. You missed this so damn much. "I've missed your dick so much.." You whisper, a small pout forming on your lips as a light whine slips from between them. "Missed us." You breathe, tilting your head back to look up at him over your shoulder.

"I missed us too, baby." He murmurs, placing a hand on your cheek and caressing the skin before placing his lips over yours, kissing you. His breath is hot, his mouth needy against yours as it works along your own. His cock is deep in your pussy, your bodies molding together as the kiss continues and his hand on your hip grips harder.

The needy and demanding kiss causes whimpers to leave your lips while you feel his body molding with your own, your hands reaching behind you to place your hand on his waist to pull him in closer. You can feel him groan slightly into the kiss, enjoying the feeling of his wet lips moving along yours. When he fucks you harder, a small gasp escapes both of your mouths.

"God, I've missed how your tight walls wrap around my cock.." He moans into the kiss, his teeth nipping at your lower lip before his tongue slips into your mouth. You let out a soft mewl at that, your fingers intertwining with his.

A muffled moan slips from your lips as he pulls away from your lips. Your back arches at how good it all feels. "Tell me," He groans and his hand wraps around your neck from behind as he pulled you up, your back know pressed against his chest.

"Tell me how good I fuck you, love." He whispers into your ear.

"Mmm.." You hum and nod your head at his question, whimpering when his hand wrapped around your neck. "Good, feel so good. Fuck.." You respond, your chest rising and falling at a faster rate as the slapping sounds of your skin's growing louder.

"Yeah, baby?" He whispers against your ear, his teeth lightly nipping at your earlobe before fucking his cock even harder into you. "What a good fucking slut, I'm so proud of you.." He chuckles under his breath while his hand slips down further from your neck toward your stomach pulling you closer to meet his thrust.

"Take that fucking dick, baby." He says between his thrusts.

With each thrust you're getting closer to your orgasm and you let out a pleased scream which is quickly muffled by his palm pressing against your mouth.

"It's 1am, baby." He laughs and snaps his hips even harder into yours. "We don't want to piss the neighbours off, don't we?"

You quickly shake your head. "I'm so fucking close, Koo." You try to speak through his palm.

"Mhm, already?" He breathes in your ear, a teasing tone in his voice. You can practically hear the smirk on his face when he whispers, his palm pulling away from your mouth.

Your eyes flutter at his words and breath in your ear, your heart beating quicker and your skin burning from his touch. “Yes..” You answer him with your own small smirk, biting your lip and tilting your head back to look up at him with hooded eyes, seeing him vice versa. His eyes boring into yours and his gaze looking intense with desire.

"I love the way you fuck me," You whisper.

“I fucking love you, Y/n. ” He says in a whisper in your ear which sends shivers down your spine, leaving goosebumps on some parts of your skin. He places small kisses against your neck then gives it a small lick on a certain spot, a small smirk forming on his face. That teasing, cocky smirk.

“Let go for me. ”

A low, breathy groan leaves your lips as his cock hits you like a damn truck bringing you closer to your release. Your teeth biting your tongue and eyes fluttering at the feeling of your orgasm.

He lets out a chuckle at the sight of your narrowed eyes and agape mouth pressing his lips on your forehead a messy and sloppy kiss.

"I'm so fucking close, baby." His breathless and needy whine has your heart stutter in your chest, and your breath hitches softly. The way he's pleading and pleading so desperately for you has your heart flutter and your body tingle, and you can't help but feel pride flood through you.

"I know, baby," You whisper back lovingly. "You're doing so well."

His whole body aches and throams with the need to release. As he moans and groans, you can't help but chuckle lightly with a soft moan. "Come for me, baby," You whisper.

Your words are enough to push him over the edge, and his hands grip your hips with a shaky groan leaving his chest. And after a couple of more thrusts, he finds his release and slumps down against you. "Fucking hell."

[andi-kook]

hard thoughts on step dad jungkook !!!

WARNINGS: PWP smut, pseudo-incest, rough finger fucking, slight exhibitionism, daddy kink, slut shaming, slapping, hair pulling, marking, biting, no aftercare cos mean jk, you are in your 20s while jk is in his 30s ♡ i just got sooo horny seeing jungkook’s fingers so yeah. fuck i miss him. i want to ride him so bad.

step dad jk who would pull you on his lap at the dining room, flipping your skirt to expose your white cotton panties and began palming your cunt while kissing you – your mother showering upstairs after cooking breakfast for all of you. you placed your hand on his buff chest, squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to push yourself away from him, but this only angered your step dad and tugged your hair harshly as his hand cupped your already wet cunt aggressively. “i told you not to resist me,” jungkook would say, dark round eyes glaring at your flushed face. “you’re mine. i’ll take you whenever, however, and wherever i want.”

you could only whimper as he tugged at your hair. “now open those thighs for me, baby. let daddy fuck you with his fingers before your mom comes down and sees us – not that you’d be bothered by it. you’re a slut anyway.”

his dark chuckle sent shivers down your spine and a jolt of lust that made you wetter. jungkook ordered you to suck on his fingers, maintaining eye contact as you did so, before he used those same fingers to furiously rub your clit inside your panties. you arched your back in pleasure, gripping his polo and the table tightly as jungkook began to suck and nibble your neck.

“f-fuck, d-daddy,” you moaned, biting your lower lip as jungkook’s fingers enter your slick hole. “oh fuck! daddy!”

“so tight, baby. how come you’re still so fucking tight after i fucked you so many times already, hmm? not letting any cock inside you? only daddy’s?” jungkook bit on your skin, making you jump, clit grazing his rough palm.

“y-yes daddy. i-i only w-want your c-cock,” you panted, his thrusts going deeper, fingers curling inside you. “daddy, please, g-gonna cum.”

“not yet, wait for my go signal,” jungkook said through gritted teeth. “you’re not going to cum until i say so.”

“but daddy–,”

“hey guys! i’ll be down in a minute. you can start eating without me!” your mom exclaimed from upstairs, making your eyes wide and your heart race.

jungkook didn’t stop fucking his fingers into your squelching pussy. “come on, baby, don’t be rude. answer your mother.” he taunted, a lazy smirk appearing on his face.

“o-okay, mo-m!”

“good girl,” your step dad praised. “we’re going to wait for your mother to come down those stairs before you cum, okay?”

you were mortified. you stared at jungkook with wide eyes. “what? jungkook, no, that’s–,”

he pulled his fingers out of your cunt and slapped you with that hand, narrowing his gaze at you. “who said you can say no to me, huh? who told you to call me jungkook?”

you cowered in fear, curling into a ball against him. “i-i’m sorry d-daddy, i just–i got scared.”

he clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “seems to me you need some punishing, baby. you’re awfully defiant these days,” jungkook placed his fingers back inside your hole. “i’m going to fucking destroy you tonight, baby. in the meantime, don’t cum until you hear your mother coming downstairs. got it?”

you nodded furiously, grinding your hips against his palm. “yes daddy, fuck, i’m sorry. i-i’ll be a g-good girl, promise.”

jungkook hummed as he connected your lips, asserting dominance with his tongue and you let him. and when you heard those familiar clicks of your mother’s heels coming down stairs, jungkook picked up his pace, making you bite on his lip as you fought the urge to moan out his name. daddy.

click, click, click.

“cum on daddy’s fingers, baby,” said jungkook through his bitten lower lip. “slut, you want your mother to see us, huh?” he teased.

click, click, click. two more steps and your mother would be in the living area already. you felt that familiar knot in your stomach.

click, click.

you came and jungkook pushed you off him, pulling his chair closer to the table to hide the patch of wetness on his pants along with his aching boner. your legs shook, almost making you fall face flat on the wooden floor, but fortunately – you caught yourself. you caught your breath as you walked to the refrigerator to grab yourself a glass of water.

“hey good morning, babe,” you heard your step dad greeting your mother followed by the sound of them kissing. your skin crawled. “thank you for cooking breakfast. it’s really good.”

“you’re welcome, hun. of course, you guys deserve the best breakfast. y/n, what are you doing there? come sit and eat before you go to school,” your mother’s sweet oblivious tone reached your ears. “have some more, honey. i know you have a long day at work today.”

you gulped down the glass of water in your hand, bringing it with you to the table. from your peripheral vision, you watched as jungkook picked up the sausage with the same fingers buried inside your cunt just moments ago. then, he sucked on his fingers, glancing briefly at you with a sly smirk ghosting on his lips. “hmm, taste so good.”

[ivygguk]

jeon jungkook fic recs!!

pt 3

One-shots:-

🪻Tempest @kooktrash

summary:- you’ve always considered your life to be more mundane than you would like to admit. it was a constant cycle of the same things over and over again that when you meet jeon jungkook at a bar, of all places, you didn’t expect to see just how much he would change your life and those around you. he’s got an air of mystery around him with his charming good looks and a violent past that you slowly begun to unravel when it feels like everything is going perfect.

🪻Mr Take Your Bitch @bunnyhugs77

🪻Lost and found @kooktrash

summary:-your college years have never been something you dwelled on for too long. you didn’t want to think of all the chances you lost and that’s why when the guy you had a crush on moves back to town, you try not to let it affect you again. but then he brings up old memories that didn’t go the way you thought they had and you’re thrown for a loop. you’re stuck between finding something new with him and falling back into old habits of never standing up for yourself. it probably doesn’t help that he dated your best friend, where everything seemed to go wrong.

🪻 Better Boyfriend Than Him @jungqkook

summary:- jungkook makes it a mission to prove to you that he can be better than your boring boyfriend. when it comes to sex, at least.

🪻Peach @hongjoongscafe

summary:- where his lust and admiration fell for a camgirl.

Series:-

🪻Close To you @muniimyg

summary:-in which oc and jungkook sleep together and he can't get over it

🪻 Through The Mist @solecize

summary:- you welcome your boyfriend back to the country with a surprise party, just as the clock is ticking to say goodbye again. the big day is almost here and enlistment brings couples either one of two things: a ring or a breakup. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤ

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: loser!jungkook, sub!jungkook, softdom!reader, oral (f receiving), mentions of blowjob, etc.

part 1, part 2

wc: 1709

a/n: the comeback of loser!jk<3

masterlist

"we should- mhph!," he gasped when you interrupted him with yet another kiss, attempting to speak again when your lips barely disconnected, "we should stu-" unfortunately for him, your lips did not stray too far.

you had no interest in holding any type of conversation right now. not when the pretty nerd was alone in your room for the third time this week.

surprisingly, despite your lack of ability to pay attention while jungkook was over at your place, your grades had still gone up. on the down side, this small improvement proved to be enough for your horny brain to make the executive decision that it'd be a waste to spend any more time studying when you could be playing with your pretty boy toy instead.

jungkook never had any complaints. even on the days you did study, you'd bid him goodbye by sitting on his cock and kissing up and down the length of his neck. he always left quite satisfied, though also dizzy with desire.

the sudden addiction you had with the boy couldn't have been helped. it was impossible for you to understand how he didnt have all the girls on campus trailing after him. he was clearly handsome, just incredibly shy. his shyness was so severe, he had trouble holding eye contact with anyone who spoke to him, only ever responding in incomprehensible stammers of nonsensical sentences.

you were more than fine to work with this. you knew it'd only take a while for him to warm up to you, and you were happy to patiently wait. the two of you sometimes conversed, getting to know each other past the math and the sex. he had already warmed up to you quite a bit, able to push his shyness aside for you. you'd break all that down any time you removed your shirt and propositioned yourself to him, but that was just to be expected.

as of now, your midterms were over and you felt no need to study for regular assignments despite jungkook's insistence. this meant you had all the time in the world to rearrange your tutoring sessions to fuck him instead. even as he attempted to form a single sentence, your tongue would find its way to his mouth, interrupting any thought that might break you away from his touch.

"i ... we're supposed to study at least a bit," he reminded you with a breathless tone as your lips went to his neck.

"don't wanna, baby. wanna fuck you instead. don't you want that too?", you whispered when you made your way to his ear, nibbling at it suggestively.

nodding feverishly, his eyes began fluttering shut, hands lamely digging into your hips like they usually did, "if- if you're sure."

you chuckled at his statement. you never had any second thoughts about fucking jungkook. he was a pretty nerd and former virgin whom you had the power to mold into the perfect boy for you. how could you ever pass out such an opportunity?

"i'm sure, pretty," you reassured as your hands went to pull up his shirt, yours joining soon after.

now sitting on his lap, top halves nude, you got up before his eyes could zero in on your breasts, throwing off your pants and helping him out of his own. unlike other times, you did not sit back down on his lap, instead opting to sit on the bed next to him, letting yourself fall back as your legs hung off the side of the bed.

looking up at him, you gestured at him to get off the bed with a quick flick of your eyes. the way he quickly understood and went to kneel between your legs made you chuckle. he was such a smart boy.

to this day, the pretty boy had never eaten you out. the extent of your sexual relationship only went as far as penetrative sex thus far. no oral had been involved for some reason – likely due to your need to jump him every time you saw him.

what you wanted most today was to claim your high on his tongue. you needed the pretty boy between your legs, struggling to lick into your cunt and fumbling to find your clit. you knew that with some guidance you'd easily get his skills at oral perfectly tailored to your tastes. that was the nicest part of having a pretty and untouched boy such as jungkook – you could teach him everything just the way you liked it.

staring up at you with his gigantic doe eyes, his brows furrowed in worry, likely unsure of what to do next whilst simultaneously intimidated by such a suggestive position. your fingers went to his chin, lifting up his face whilst yours lowered to almost meet in a kiss. a pretty whine was felt against your lips when you moved away just before your lips could connect.

"pretty?"

"yes?", a gulp accompanied his inquiry.

"will you be good and lick me?"

a groan left his lips before he began nodding dumbly, practically whining as he confirmed his enthusiasm.

"please ...", he whimpered when you created a larger gap between you, grabbing onto his hair and pushing his face into your bare cunt.

opening your legs wider, you led the pretty boy almost all the way to your pussy, stopping right before letting his lips touch your own.

"tongue out, baby," you instructed.

wordlessly, he followed your instructions as his hands went up to your thighs for support. he gave you a decided nod before leaning in and shyly licking into your cunt. groaning against you, he licked experimentally once, twice, thrice – enough times for his resolve to break and for his shyness to be replaced by want.

your hands continued to guide him by his hair, grinding into his mouth in sync with the movement of his lips. it was easy to fall into a trance while the desperate boy ate at you. it was as if he'd had prior practice, except you knew that wasn't the case. jungkook was clearly just letting his hunger take over, leading to an ethereal feeling you knew only jungkook could give you.

"kookie ... oh, fuck," you cried out, fingers digging harshly into his hair.

he reacted accordingly, groaning at both your voice and the feeling of his hair getting pulled at. his hips were also uncontrollable as they ground into the side of the bed, pathetically humping in hopes of some stimulation.

as he ate at you with an unprecedented desperation, he let out the prettiest whimpers and pleas against your cunt, leaving you lightheaded at how needy he was for you.

"it's so good ... fuck, so good. thank you- thank you, oh, fuck ...."

"tastes so fucking good, oh god ...."

"it's for me? fuck, tell me it's mine. t-tell me it's all for me, please ..."

"oh, thank you thank you thank you thank you ..."

encouraging him, you claimed him as yours, telling him how good he was and how you'd give him anything he wanted. he cried even more at this, continuing to thank you for granting him access to your cunt. you knew he meant this in both a sexual and emotional way, which only made you feel even dizzier.

a few minutes into jungkook sloppily making out with your cunt, you pulled him away a bit (despite his resistance), making him look up at you.

under you, you found foggy glasses, messy hair, and half his face covered in your wetness. and even with all that, he looked like the prettiest thing you'd ever had between your legs. he whined the moment you separated him, attempting to reconnect his lips with your cunt, but you remained stubborn.

"baby, you're doing so good for me," you wiped a bit at his lips, though he misinterpreted your intentions, instead taking your fingers into his mouth and suckling.

he was a natural at being a needy mess.

"need you to play with my clit, though, pretty. c'mere, like this. let me show you ..."

with your fingers, you showed him where he'd find your clit, instructing him to stick out his tongue for you again and kitten-lick at it. he went the extra mile and began suckling at it after just a few moments, making your eyes roll back and your toes curl.

going back and forth between licking at you and suckling at your clit, his intensity only increased the more you cried out for him, beginning to hump against his face with zero finesse. the squeaks of the bed could be heard as he himself bumped his cock against it, whimpering into your cunt out of neediness.

"g-gonna make me cum, kookie ... oh, fuck, i- i'm gonna cum, pretty. eat it f-for me? p-please?"

you hadn't planned on becoming so needy for him, but you also hadn't planned for him to be such a quick learner. he simply nodded into your cunt, speeding up his movements as he grumbled against your lips, clearly growing desperate to make you reach your high.

this was easily one of the most intense, neediest orgasms you'd ever had. your voice reached a pitch it never had before as you shamelessly used jungkook's face to get off. at some point his nose began nudging against your clit, almost causing you to black out in pleasure. by the end of it you had been singlehandedly doing all the work whilst jungkook let you guide his face however you wanted.

"fuck ... kookie," you breathed once your high subsided, "c'mere, baby."

climbing up the bed, he hovered over you, shy in initiating a kiss but putting his all into it the moment he realized how into it you were, suckling your juices out of his tongue and moaning into his mouth.

"was ... was it good?", he murmured into your neck once your lips had disconnected.

"it was so good, baby. you're such a quick learner," you caressed his back reassuringly, ignoring the hardness poking against you for a moment.

"want me to try it on you?" you asked, chuckling when he suddenly stilled.

"o-oh ... you want to?"

"lay on the bed, kookie. let me show how good it feels," you grinned at him, knowing you were about to blow his mind yet again.

[badbtssmut]

can a i ask for :

Jungkook and OC are gym buddies. She asks jk to spot her while she does some squats.

jk gets a boner while doing it so oc offers to help him by giving jk a bj on the spot and then they fuck on the showers while people come and go because it's a mixed changing room. they fuck next to people who are getting a shower because it's like this open shower place, no cubicles

NSFW inspo: https://twitter.com/Ready2rate/status/1774061340568469953?t=tzdZlt6bVg9HDVxGXCMMXw&s=19

—

“Really?”

“Sorry, y/n, just, you are so pretty, and you just looked really hot and—“

“It’s okay, JK, really. It must feel really uncomfortable, I can see it trying to break free from your shorts.” You chuckled, trying not to laugh at him too much. Jungkook’s face was flushed with a mixture of arousal and embarrassment.

“Come here, I’ll help you.” You offered, sitting down on the bench and pulling him closer. Jungkook was eager to take you up to your offer, and he pulled his shorts down without hesitation.

His dick was already hard, and you wrapped your fingers around it, rubbing him softly. A deep moan escaped his lips, and you could see how much he had been waiting for this. He impatiently moved his hips back and forth, wanting more, and you gave it to him, taking his size into your mouth, sucking and licking, the feeling of his dick in your mouth and his moans of pleasure turning you on, making you wet.

The people around you were too engrossed in their workouts to notice what you were doing.

“Y/N, let me fuck you, need to feel my cock inside you. Please.” He watched you, his eyes pleading.

You took him out of your mouth, and you nodded.

You and Jungkook moved from the excersises room to the shower room, there you and him stood under the warm stream of water, there he picked you up with ease and pushed your back against the tiled wall, and you eased his cock into your wet pussy.

“Mmm..” You shivered as you felt your body lowering onto his cock inch by inch. He groaned deeply, and as soon as you were fully impaled, he started thrusting into you. The water ran down your bodies, and for a moment you were worried about slipping and falling, but Jungkook held onto you sturdy.

You moved your body along, bouncing on his cock, people came in, taking the showers right next to you, and you were right in between them getting fucked. You cried out at the sensation, each thrust into his cock bringing you closer.

Soon, Jungkook lowered you, growing tired from carrying you after his work out. He turned you around, bending you over, and entering you from behind, your hands rested against the wall as you matched his thrusts back and forth.

Your moans and the sound of wet skin slapping against each other echoed through the walls of the showers, and you didn't care if people noticed what was going on.

“Fuck, such a good pussy, can’t stop.” Jungkook grunted, forcing himself to go even faster. “Fuck, that ass, so hot.” He smacked it, causing you to whimper at the burning sensation.

"Ah, y/n." He moaned, the way your walls clenched around his cock drove him crazy.

Your orgasm came crashing down on you, your whole body quivering and tightening as he continued thrusting into you.

“Oh, oh!” You whined.

He followed shortly after, the sight of you cumming and your pussy squeezing around his cock sending him over the edge.

You stood up straight, turning around and kissed him, and Jungkook kissed you back.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Just Take It | Jeon Jungkook | Alphabet

This was a request by a lovely anon so I thought I would give it a go! I've never done one of these before and I've definitely repeated myself a lot but I hope you guys enjoy it! I got the template from the anon but credit to the person who made it 💜 Warnings: This is an NSFW alphabet so it's all about sex. Simple as that lmao Series Masterlist

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

He's very attentive. Will always offer to shower or take a bath together (maybe go for another round hehe). Always changes the sheets and makes her wear his clothes afterwards (although he prefers sleeping naked he knows that she at least want to wear a shirt to sleep). Loves to hold her as they fall asleep and buries his face into her neck, falling asleep feeling incredibly content.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

He loves his thighs mainly because she likes riding them and he loves how pretty she looks while she does it. He's obsessed with her eyes mainly because they tell him so much and he knows almost exactly what she wants or what she's thinking just by looking at them. He of course loooovvveeesss her body but it's hard to choose a specific part because he loves to worship every part of her. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He loves watching it drip out of her when she lets him cum inside. Just obsessed with the fact that he's been the first and only one to ruin her like this. Whenever she gives him head he'll have her keep it in her mouth and makes her stick out her tongue before telling her to swallow and then immediately kisses her and tasting himself on her tongue. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I mean it's not so much of a dirty secret now since we all already know but he's been fantasizing about her for the longest time. He hated the fact that when she was still in a relationship he just couldn't stop. Always thinking about her when he touched himself.  

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

He is very experienced and honestly an overachiever in bed. Makes sure that her pleasure comes first and always makes her cum before ever sticking it in (sometimes twice if he's being merciless hehe)  

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Loves to make her ride it. Whether that's just his thigh or his dick he just loves to watch her use him. Doesn't matter if it's through her clothes, when he's inside her or even when she's rubbing her bare cunt all along the shaft and makes a mess while it's laying on his abs, he just loves it. 

He's a sucker for missionary though. Just being able to see all of her reactions and hear all of the cute sounds she makes is addictive.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He's a mix of both but not so much goofy as he is taunting. Loves to make her shy and embarrassed and always makes her tell him what she wants. If she doesn't then he'll stop everything all together until she does. He wants her to be all pretty and innocent but then say the dirtiest things to him whenever they're alone.  

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps things neat but isn't necessarily hairless all the time. He'll put in the effort to make things look the way that she wants it to but never pressures her to do anything and neither does she. Neither of them cares if it's gotten a little longer than it usually is since they both just want each other no matter what.  

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He's loves telling her how pretty, gorgeous, perfect or whatever comes to mind she is whenever they do anything. She could even just lay there and do nothing and he's already in shambles. Loves to make things about her and he loves slow but sensual sex since he feels it makes them more connected and focused on each other. Loves making love to her and this is what that feels like to him. He'll go harder or faster of course but loves savoring the feeling of her wrapped around him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

This is something that they've spoken about before and honestly makes her feel so confident in her skin but he love jacking off to her. And I mean to her directly. He'll have her just laying there on the bed, clothed or not (whatever she and/or he prefers at the moment) and just the sight of her drives him crazy. 

He'll ask if he can take pictures of her, mainly Polaroids since the quality and aesthetic of it all seems a lot sexier to him and he can use then to jack off too when she's not there (although they're not apart very often) 

When they happen to be apart he'll want to FaceTime her late at night and just talk about anything and everything while he touches himself. Sometimes she'll know but other times she won't and she'll only figure it out when he's close to finishing and she'll coach him through it at the end sometimes and it'll drive him mad. 

Times like that he'll go absolutely feral the next time he sees her so best believe she's getting fucked asap 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He's really interested in things like bondage and just overall restraining her.  He thinks she would look so pretty all tied up in a dragonfly harness. Completely helpless and willing to be used by him and him alone. 

He's interested in breath play as well but it's not to the point of her choking. His hand wrapped around her throat placing the slightest bit of pressure on it has been something he's been thinking about for the longest time.  

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He just loves his bedroom, well both of their bedroom soon. The fact that he can live and relive all the moments they've spent together, just going on a loop if he lets his mind wander far enough is one of the perks of doing it in there so often.

In his office however is his favorite in terms of places that are a bit riskier. In his home office specifically but on rare occasions he'll take her bent over his desk and spread out just for him. 

That tends to happen though when he's particularly stressed out and asks her to come visit him when she's free. She always knows what he wants when he asks her to come and no matter how many times it's happened there it's like the first time all over again. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

It's hard to pinpoint one thing in particular since he's a very sexual person but the fact that the reader in this story is a virgin and hasn't done much of anything with anyone kind of sparks a different kind of hunger in him. 

He's the only one who has done these kinds of things to her so it makes him very territorial of her and he always wants to give her everything because her pleasure is his pleasure. He gets off just by watching her face contort in pleasure.  

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

He's willing to try anything honestly but his hard no would be anything to do with CNC. He wants her to love and trust him and he would never want to put her in the position where she would fear him or what he's doing to her. 

Since he's older he doesn't get the appeal to it and because she's inexperienced all she knows is what he's given her so it's not really something she's interested in either.

Pegging as well is something he does not want to do and neither does she lmao he just again doesn't see the appeal to it and she's totally fine with that.  

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He love giving her head and I mean loooovvveesss it! Again because she's never done something like this with anyone. Just being able to watch how much she comes undone when he eats her out is something he could do all day every day if she let him and he honestly does it as much for her pleasure as he does it for his.

He adores it when she gives him head but he doesn't see it as a requirement for every time they have sex. Does he love seeing her on her knees for him? Yes, but it's not something he cares to point out.  

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and sensual is the way he tends to start things. He loves making love to her. Of course he gives her exactly what she asks for so if she wants it faster or harder he'll change his pace but he just wants to be inside her and feel her clenching around him and moaning his name. He's never in a hurry to reach that high he just loves it when he can be that close to her. 

(kind of said this already but hey it's the truth haha)

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

They do quickies for sure. For instance if their baby is taking a nap and one of them is particularly horny they'll do it really quick just to get that release and also spend some time together in general since it's hard for them to squeeze in time to bond like that because the baby needs their full attention for a good amount of time during the day and night.

Not saying they do it every nap time but it's pretty common...

Before kids though it wasn't a super common thing since he likes to take his time with her. Doesn't mean he's opposed to it and if the moment is right then it's right. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He loves to experiment with her because although he's experienced, being with her feels like he's discovering everything all over again. He wants to figure out where her limits are and find more and more ways to bring the both of them pleasure.

Whenever she brings up something new that she'd like to try he immediately drops everything (unless he's taking care of their child lmao) and throws her over his shoulder and takes her to the bedroom or wherever the situation might require them to be.  

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can go round after round after round if she'll let him. He wants to learn her body and makes sure that she's okay before trying to go again. (Doesn't mean that he doesn't like watching her cry and beg because he definitely does) 

He wants to be gentle with her but eventually train her body to work with him since he knows she can take more and wants to since they've spoken about it so he's always ready to push her just a little bit further if she'll let him  

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't own toys nor does he use them on himself but after they're finally together they'll for sure go buy some together even if oc was freaking out and embarrassed the entire time. The toys they get are pretty much ones that they'll exclusively use on her but again if she wants to get something a bit riskier in his eyes he's not gonna say no to at least trying it out once.

He's done some online shopping for them as well and he likes to surprise her with them but he's only done it a few times. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He looooooovvvveeee to tease. Like any opportunity that arises he will use it to tease her. Doesn't matter if it's day or night, if they're outside or at home, he will tease her to the nth degree because he knows she reacts to everything he does so easily. It's hard for her not to and he knows that and takes advantage of it.  

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He's definitely the type to growl in her ear and tell her how good she's being for him, taking him so well. He isn't afraid to be loud but would prefer to hear her over anything. He likes talking her through things and praising her and encouraging her to be louder. 

When she's giving him head though he's constantly cursing and can hardly contain himself when he looks down at her and she's giving him those innocent doe eyes, with tears streaming down her face. Constantly praising as well, he just loves to show her how good she's making him feel, so much so that the pleasure gets overwhelming and he can't hold back his moans.   

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He's really into pregnancy sex. Like to the point of where he goes to every doctor's appointment and asks if it's still safe for them to continue having sex. He just goes feral thinking about the fact that she's the mother of his children and is doing an amazing job keeping them and herself safe and healthy. 

He's constantly complimenting her and her body and emphasizes how gorgeous she looks while she's pregnant because he knows that she can get a little insecure about it but he just genuinely can't keep his hands off of her. 

Maybe it's a primal thing but he never questions it and neither does she hehe  

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

Oof let's just say he has enough going on down there to leave you sore for days if you're not careful.

Not saying he would force it in but he's definitely big and he knows how to use it. It always fits but he has to make sure to prep her every time no matter how much she begs for it but then again he loves making her beg so it's something he enjoys doing anyway. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High high high

If he could live inside of her he would. He literally can fuck her seven days a week and not even flinch like he's down for her day and night (as he should) and he's not afraid to show it. 

Constantly whispering to her how much he wishes he could take her on top of that table if front of every one when they're out. He just loves to rile her up and watch as her pupils get blown out and makes sure she's begging for him to fuck her as soon as they get home.    

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

With the way they go at it after it's all said and done and they've cleaned up and changed the sheets he'll usually pass out unless she wants to talk and even then he kinda fades fast which oc finds adorable. There aren't many instances where she sees him as being adorable but when he gets sleepy after sex is for sure one of those moments. 

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[taexual]

sleepwalking ● 24 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: mentions of drugs (not graphic), depictions of smoking, explicit language, SUGGESTIVE THEMES (jungkook is a teasing little shit, there's also a Shower Scene at the end), angst, fluff, SLOW BURN

words: 23k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 24 ► soon, you'll be nothing but a memory and i won't keep you company when everything falls apart for you

When you woke up next to Jungkook on your final morning in London, the sun was already high, casting patterns shaped dangerously like his sleeping features on the walls of his hotel room.

You thought you had just closed your eyes two minutes ago, but you felt very well-rested, albeit not fully convinced that you were conscious yet. Jungkook was asleep next to you, your hands still locked together and your bodies so intertwined that it would take at least a few minutes for you to disengage from each other.

Naturally, you thought this was another one of those powerful dreams that would stay with you for the next few days after you woke up because of how much you wished it was real. But then you checked your phone, noticing several missed calls, and your mind finally sobered.

Jungkook stirred when he felt you reach for your phone, and he realised right away that your morning together had ended before it even began.

“I was hoping we’d sleep in,” he mumbled, startling you as you tried to quietly climb out of bed.

Your determination to start working melted at the sound of his groggy, somewhat uncertain voice, and you turned back. His eyes flickered open and met yours briefly before succumbing to heaviness again.

“It seems like we have, actually,” you said, lingering on the edge of the bed, and forgetting, almost, that the vibrating sound in the background of your focus came from your phone.

“It doesn’t count if we wake up and get out of bed right aw—” He paused to yawn, then rolled onto his back, looking at you through half-closed lids. “Sleeping in means we stay in bed, and—well, there are things we could do.”

He struggled to keep his eyes open—clearly, the only thing you’d do if you stayed in the room was actually sleep—but you couldn’t help but smile at his effort.

Just as you were about to respond, Jungkook pushed back the covers and your eyes drifted down to the angry red nail marks on his chest. He met your gaze and followed it downwards, raising his eyebrows before breaking into a grin.

“Hmm,” he mused. You already knew what his next words would be but couldn’t stop him in time. “These are exactly the things I was talking ab—”

“I know,” you finally cut in. “I figured.”

He returned his gaze to yours, cocking a tired eyebrow. “Yet you’re rushing out of bed?”

You lifted your phone and the display lit up with multiple notifications. He noticed, with his breath hitching enthusiastically in his throat, that your eyes were filled with regret. You didn’t want to go.

“Duty calls,” you said.

He looked away and muttered disdainfully, “I’m your duty.”

“Exactly,” you replied, smiling at the childish entitlement in his voice. “Your band is the reason I’m getting out of bed.”

You took your foot off the mattress and stood up properly, pausing as Jungkook groaned—deliberately, of course, to make you think he would say something else and have you stay in the room longer while you waited for him to speak.

To be perfectly honest, though, you didn’t linger in the room because you thought he still had something to say. You lingered because you wanted to stay here until you absolutely couldn’t anymore.

“Okay,” he finally said, looking up at you again. “I promise that our relationship won’t interfere with your career. But I really do wish you’d stayed with me for the rest of the morning.”

It took you considerable effort—and you would attribute this to professionalism when you inevitably started doubting yourself later—to resist the temptation to climb back into bed.

“I wish I could stay, too,” you said—firmly, so he wouldn’t try to persuade you, because you knew that he’d eventually succeed. “But I’ll see you after the show.”

“Before that,” he said.

You nodded. “If we have time.”

“No,” he disagreed immediately. “We’ll make time.”

Your smile grew with affection and warmth.

“Alright,” you said. “I’ll see you a little later then, yeah? Will you be alright for a few hours?”

He exhaled very theatrically. “I suppose I’ll live.”

“Good,” you leaned over the bed to press a soft kiss to his cheek, “I love you.”

He reached out to interlace your hands for just a second before you pulled away again, bringing your knuckles to his lips. “I love you.”

Reluctantly parting from his warmth, you finally left the room, and Jungkook whined quietly to himself before starting his day as well. He knew his uncontrollable yearning would drive him to the brink of insanity even before the band’s rehearsal later today, so he was desperate for company until then.

He took a quick shower, then crossed the corridor to Minjun’s room where Minjun was binge-watching Evangelion, and dragged him outside for a coffee and a cigarette.

It was a beautiful morning: a little cold, but unusually sunny after yesterday’s storm. The rain had quickly become his favourite scent, and Jungkook took a deep breath as it lingered in the air. It was laced with faint traces of wet grass, and there was something else, too. Something woody, yet light, with heavy undertones of you.

He and Minjun settled in the shade outside of the hotel. Jungkook lit his cigarette, then passed his lighter to his friend and looked around.

The garden behind him was impressive. He hadn’t noticed the peonies before, but as soon as he did, he remembered bringing bright pink and gently lilac bouquets for you before your dates. You didn’t have a favourite flower, but he’d discovered that peonies lasted the longest in your dorm room, so he continued to get them for you.

He realised with a sigh that having Minjun here wasn’t much of a distraction, not even when he brought up Sid. Everywhere he looked this morning, he still thought of you.

“Oh, shit!” Jungkook cried suddenly, pushing his cigarette to the corner of his mouth as he spoke. His exclaim distracted the two of them from an anxious discussion about all that had to happen today. “Look.”

Minjun looked at him first, then followed his gaze to the street, where a Volkswagen Beetle was driving by at an extraordinarily slow pace. He wasn’t sure if Jungkook was amused by the car model or its speed.

“Hmm?” he asked. “At the car?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook said, bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. “It’s the exact colour of her eyes.”

“Her eye—Jesus Christ,” Minjun groaned, nearly choking on the smoke of his cigarette. “Do you see what I’m doing right now?”

Jungkook did not tear his eyes away from the car as it inched closer to the intersection at the end of the street. “No offence, man, but I really couldn’t care le—”

“I am cringing,” Minjun informed him anyway. “You made me cringe.”

Jungkook continued to watch the Beetle with an alien fascination that Minjun could not understand. He thought that Jungkook looked as if he was reliving some sort of a dream, with this wistful, melancholy smile on his face—or he was stuck in an unfathomable, endless déjà vu.

“I’m serious, though,” Jungkook said after a moment, a deep exhilaration in his voice. “The exact colour.”

Minjun shook his head, half disbelieving, half resigned. He was not a doctor, and he would never claim to have any medical knowledge, but even his amateur eye could recognise lovesickness when he saw it.

“You are so fu—” he started to say, but did not get to the end of this diagnosis that, in his humble opinion, would have perfectly described the state that his friend was in right now.

Jungkook blew out the smoke with a heavy—and violent, too—groan, and it cut Minjun off. “I love her so much.”

“We know!” Minjun said, exasperated. His teeth dug into the filter of his cigarette. “We can tell. All of us. Now if you try to tell me that that cloud over there, above the hotel, kind of looks like her, I swear to God.”

“Please.” Jungkook scoffed but still glanced at the sky. “Clouds don’t look like—oh, you know what, maybe that one over there kind of does. When she wears her hair up, and—”

“I am going to slap you,” Minjun interjected, “if you don’t get yourself together right this second.”

The Beetle had finally turned on the left turn signal as it reached the end of the road next to the two of them. Jungkook lowered his eyes and smiled at the vehicle again.

“I’ve never felt more together,” he said, smoke passing through his lips.

“And I’ve never felt more like a third wheel,” Minjun retorted. “And it’s only you and me here.”

Jungkook grinned dreamily, following the car with his gaze.

“You’re not even listening to me, are you?” Minjun asked.

“Not really.”

He sighed and turned away. “Hmm. Of course not.”

The Beetle finally disappeared down the street and out of their sight. And now, with no new reminders of you in his immediate vicinity, Jungkook realised that he missed you too much to merely stand here, and that the company he had did not matter as long as it wasn’t you. He finished his cigarette in two quick drags and pulled out his phone.

Minjun knew exactly who he was texting without having to ask. And he certainly did not have to ask who had texted him back when his phone lit up not even ten seconds later.

You and Jungkook were both terrible—almost unbearable at this point, really—and Minjun was very glad that you had found your way back to each other. He didn’t think the world could have handled more of the two of you alone.

When you arrived at the venue a few hours later to see Jimin before the band’s soundcheck, you ran into the members of the band outside. They’d gone out after their rehearsal and ended up right in the middle of a commotion outside the building.

The sight surprised you: crowds of people had gathered around the venue, chatting, waving and jumping as soon as they spotted the band. Although this was Rated Riot’s second show in London, it seemed as though twice as many people were queuing outside today.

You kept your distance but stayed to watch the beaming members stop occasionally for an autograph, a selfie, or a quick conversation as they made their way past their fans. You remained vigilant in case anyone in the crowd decided to cause trouble, although it didn’t seem likely. Everyone was just excited.

Just then, right before you got lost in the thrilled faces around you, you heard Jungkook gasp somewhere in the crowd.

Alarmed, you turned around to find him and caught Hoseok’s shocked expression over the back of Jungkook’s head. Someone had unexpectedly wrapped their arms around the vocalist in a very intense hug, taking him off guard. But Jungkook’s surprise quickly turned into appreciative laughter as he patted the person on the back and stepped away, nodding at something they were saying.

Their interaction seemed harmless, but a crowd began to gather around Jungkook and Hoseok, and you were worried about the people pushing each other. You reached for your phone in your jacket to call Mick and alert the security just to be safe, but paused when you overheard the conversation the boys were having with their fans.

“And good riddance!” someone was saying. “We saw that you guys banned Sid from your shows. We’re so glad you’re finally free.”

Excited shrieks of agreement rippled through the crowd. Jungkook turned his head to look at you, leaving Hoseok to handle the fans’ praise on his own while Yoongi and Taehyung signed autographs nearby. When you met Jungkook’s eye, the surprise on his face mirrored yours.

Maggie’s post had made the precise impact you’d hoped for; everyone had seen the blacklist.

We’re so glad you’re finally free.

It occurred to you that neither you, nor Jungkook, nor any of your friends had ever been truly alone with your hatred for Sid, because Sid hadn’t just messed with your lives. He’d messed with absolutely everyone around you. You assumed as much—he was insufferable—but hearing others reaffirm just how much they despised Sid still felt comforting. It felt energising, too.

You’d be finished with him today, finally.

Feeling reinvigorated, you informed Mick to keep an eye on the crowds and headed inside. Jimin had needed your help, but by the time you arrived, he’d already resolved the problem himself. He shuffled you out of the door instead, to fetch him some coffee for “being late to rescue me from the agony of toggling the amps on and off.”

Laughing, you walked back out, making a note to grab a few chocolate-chip cupcakes, too—for Seokjin, because he had looked dangerously pale and wide-eyed when you ran into him at the door as Jimin yelled out his coffee order at you.

You didn’t expect to see Jungkook until the end of his show later that night, and you felt another wondrous thrill in your stomach at the thought: this would all be over by then. You could finally stop dreading what awaited you next. Really, even your upcoming meeting with the lawyers from the label seemed like a walk in the park on a late spring afternoon compared to Sid. You almost couldn’t wait for it.

But then as soon as the band finished their soundcheck, Jungkook surprised you by sneaking into the dressing room where you were working on emails, your forgotten coffee already cold. He stood there, in the very middle of the room, grinning at you until you finally raised your head.

“Oh—shit,” you removed your earpods, “w-why are you here?”

He shrugged his shoulders. A few strands of his hair were stuck to his forehead; he looked as though he’d already performed the first half of the show instead of merely preparing for it.

“Wanted to check in,” he said. “You ready?”

He was asking about Sid, and you placed your laptop on the side table by the couch, making room for him next to you.

“Yeah,” you said. “Still got a few hours to go. Jude hasn’t called us yet, but we’re—we’ll be fine.”

Jungkook sat down next to you. He couldn’t remember the details well, but he assumed that Minjun and Jude had already left for their part of the plan. Now he was nervous to hear that their plan hadn’t even begun yet; what if Jude had a change of heart?

“Yeah?” he asked, despising how many tinges of uncertainty he heard in his own voice. “You sure?”

“Of course,” you said, glancing at the door before turning back to him. “Uh, listen, are you sure you can be here? You have an interview in ten minutes.”

He reclined on the couch and shrugged again.

“Well, I still have ten minutes,” he said. “The guys are busy with their instruments, but I’m good.”

You nodded, and the conversation came to an awkward halt. You wanted to steer the discussion away from Sid, but he was the elephant in the room and he had grown large enough to smother you.

“I’m, uh—I’m thinking,” Jungkook said after a minute, “what if the plan doesn’t work? I know we said we’d do something else, but—I mean, what if the police don’t arrive in time, and Sid senses the trap?”

You hoped it wouldn’t come to that, because there was nothing else you could do to get rid of Sid in the immediate future. If he realised that something was wrong tonight, he’d never lower his guard like this again.

“I—well, I have a Plan B,” you said.

Jungkook was surprised. “Yeah? What’s that?”

You turned away. Really, you did not have any backup plans. You just wanted to stop Jungkook from biting into his lip ring before he ripped it off.

“Remember how we talked about you visiting me in jail?” you said, keeping a straight face. “I’ll just—”

He groaned. “You’re not going to kill Sid.”

“Why not?” you moaned and your exaggerated tone finally elicited a chuckle from him.

“Because I need you with me,” he said.

“Maybe we can make it seem like someone else did it,” you continued, encouraged by the amusement in his eyes. “Is there anyone else you hate as much as him?”

He shook his head. “No one comes even close.”

“Hmm.” You nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe if I just beat him up really bad, but don’t actually kill him, they won’t lock me up for long?”

He was grinning. “You’re not beating him up.”

“I’d be willing to do it for the band, you know.”

“Oh, for the band,” he echoed, draping an arm over the cushion behind you. “Romantic. Makes me feel real special.”

He seemed much more relaxed now than when he first came here, and your heart remembered how to beat again at the sight of his smile.

“Look,” you said, raising your hands, “I even wore extra rings today, for a more long-lasting effect.”

He snorted as you showed him the jewellery on your fingers, and placed his hand on yours, bringing it down to your knee.

“You’re not beating him up,” he reiterated.

“Come on,” you pressed on as he locked his fingers with yours. “You knocked out his tooth, so I have to do something similar. Otherwise, it’s just embarrassing. The girls will never let me live this down if I don’t land one good punch.”

Jungkook started to chuckle—the image of your sharp skull-shaped ring leaving a mark on Sid’s cheek was very satisfying—but then your words sunk in, and his expression soured.

“Wait,” he said, leaning forward and furrowing his brows, “the girls are in on this?”

You frowned in response to his frown.

“Of course, they are,” you replied. “Why are you surprised?”

“I mean,” he looked away, assessing your friends in his mind, “I’m not surprised about Maggie. But isn’t Luna usually more practical in these situations?”

“She’s practical until she’s had enough,” you said. “And she’s had enough.”

“Ah,” he said, leaning back and looking down at your intertwined hands.

He appeared to be considering something as his thumb gently traced the side of your index finger, and you got a frightening thought that you could take down a lot more assholes than just Sid—you could even tie them up and keep them in some mouldy basement—if it meant that Jungkook could sit next to you, humming peacefully under his breath as he held your hand in his.

It dawned on you just then that he wasn’t just your weakness, he was your everything. And you loved him so much that it was dangerous.

“Well,” he finally said, “if I have Taehyung and Rue with me, it might be more fun to visit the three of you in prison. We could make a little road trip out of it.”

You laughed, leaning into him as you did, and he realised that he really only had very few worries left—and none of them were about Sid.

“That’s the spirit!” you said. “I’ll see you in the courtroom.”

He released your hand, so he could wrap an arm around your shoulders and pull you into his chest.

“No, you won’t,” he said, planting a kiss on your temple. His heart stuttered through a few clumsy beats when you leaned into him again, resting your hand on his chest. “I love you.”

You raised your head to meet his gaze, and he realised he was wrong before. The Beetle outside the hotel wasn’t the exact colour of your eyes, not really. But his heart was; it soaked up the shades of your touch and painted itself after you.

“I love you,” you said. “But you have to go back to your band.”

He ignored that and leaned in to touch your lips with his. The quick kiss unexpectedly turned deeper—really, he had no say in that, his impulse control lived a life of its own lately—when he moved his head and tasted the caramel from your coffee on your tongue.

You knew you were on a tight schedule, but you found yourself giving in to him for just a moment. You brought one of your hands to the side of his face, and you felt, right away, what your touch did to him. Jungkook shifted on the couch to reach you better, his kisses growing more urgent, more eager, more impossible and even impractical—and that wasn’t fair, because, with his mouth against yours, there was nothing more meaningful than this in the world.

You pulled back, breathless, but with a smile that imprinted itself right in his mind, and Jungkook nodded, understanding the look in your eyes.

“Right,” he murmured, standing up before he lost his resolve. “I have places to be. Things to do. Would help a lot if I knew what places and what things those were, but, uh—I’ll figure it out.”

Your laughter was light and absolutely captivating. “Maybe your band can help with that?”

“Right,” he said. “My band.”

He lingered, scanning the walls and appearing lost in thought, and your chest was so full from simply being in the same room with him that you couldn’t tell him to go again. Slowly, you stood from the couch and your movement snapped him back to reality. He turned to face you and swallowed before speaking.

“Come find me as soon as the police leave with Sid’s ass,” he said.

“If our plan works, you’ll be in the middle of the encore,” you reminded him.

“You don’t have to jump on the stage,” he said. “Just give me a signal or something.”

“What kind of a signal?”

Your question wasn’t entirely serious, but Jungkook took it very seriously.

“A massive banner,” he decided, “saying ‘we’re free.’”

The image of the fans outside the venue crossed your mind again, and you felt yourself smile. You were certain they would have appreciated the banner as well.

“Hmm. Not very classy, though,” you said.

“When was I ever classy?” he countered. He looked about ready to demonstrate his lack of refinement, and you cut in before he could give any examples to support his claim.

“Alright,” you said. “I’ll just come to the side of the stage and give you a nod, yeah? Then you’ll know we did it.”

You placed a hand on his shoulder as you spoke, and, naturally, he agreed with everything you said.

“Okay,” he replied. “That’s good enough.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm. Just be careful,” he added, and you noted with disappointment that his casual demeanour had returned to a more serious tone. “Don’t let him get under your skin.”

You already missed the ease in his voice, and it made you regret that the two of you were in a situation where you could only speak lightly at short intervals before inevitably returning to what awaited you. You could not wait to never bring up Sid again.

“I won’t,” you said. “That spot’s reserved for you.”

His face immediately brightened, and you found yourself mirroring his expression. He stepped closer to you, the shimmering in his eyes fervent enough to send sparks to your chest.

“Hmm.” He reached out to run his fingers over the edge of your jaw. “What other spot is reserved for me?”

You scowled but did not pull away from his touch. “I’ll consider answering that when you sound less like a frat boy.”

He grinned, not the least bit discouraged. “Keeping me on my toes. I like that.”

“You have to go,” you replied, suppressing your smile so as not to encourage him. “The rest of the band is about to start their interview. Yoongi will have your head.”

“Kiss me and I’ll go,” he replied, his voice softer now that his face was so close to yours.

“Oh,” you snickered despite yourself, “we’re not doing that again.”

“We won’t have to if you kiss me.”

You shook your head and gave him a warning look—but then you closed the distance between you anyway. You’ve learnt your lesson from the last time at the park, and there was no point in arguing anyway; it was just you and him here, and you were rapidly running out of time.

Your lips were overwhelmingly soft and he relaxed into your touch in a way that he only could if you were as close to him as you were now. But you pulled back all too soon.

“Go now,” you whispered—not meaning it at all. You tried again, but your words had even less conviction this time, “go.”

He heard you but refused to pull away, his lips finding yours for just one more kiss.

“I’m going,” he murmured, turning every syllable into a slow, gentle caress. “Good luck.”

“You, too,” you replied, slowly pulling back and stopping his heart for a split-second when you reached over to move a strand of his hair from his face. “We’ll be okay.”

Jungkook nodded and stepped back reluctantly. As he made his way towards the door, some unseen force suddenly tugged at his arm, and he stopped. Pivoting on his heel, he returned to you to press another quick kiss to your amused lips—the last last one—before finally tearing himself away from you.

Closing the door of the dressing room behind himself, he abruptly remembered an ancient legend that his grandmother had told him—about Orpheus and Eurydice. And he knew, without any doubt whatsoever, that if he had to walk away from you without looking back so that the two of you could live, you would both perish.

He would always turn back to look at you one last time.

Rated Riot proceeded with their scheduled interviews in the waiting area backstage, leaving you to find another quiet corner, away from the intriguing “most likely to…” discussion that the boys were having right now (just as you walked past them, Taehyung and Jungkook broke into a sudden arm-wrestling competition for reasons that eluded you and the journalist, both).

With about an hour remaining until the doors opened, you managed to email back about half of the people in your inbox. That was how Minjun found you: rocking gently back and forth on the couch at the end of the dimly lit corridor, your laptop balanced on your knees.

“Jude’s here,” he announced, and you felt a dizzying sense of déjà vu before you looked up.

He’s said these exact words to you before. But he seemed far more composed this time, and it soothed your anxiety as you closed your laptop and set it aside.

“Yeah?” you asked, not quite ready to get up just yet.

“Mhmm,” Minjun confirmed. “He said that Sid’s passed out right now, he was out the whole night. Jude’s done everything we asked, and he brought Sid’s phone here with him for us to double-check. I’ve already looked through it, everything’s gone. He, um—he still wants to see you, though.”

“Oh.” You did not like that Sid’s phone was here, and your discomfort finally pushed you to stand up. “That was—that’s good. But what if Sid wakes up while Jude’s here?”

“I know,” Minjun agreed, glancing at his phone to check the time as if he had a timer set for how long Sid would stay asleep. “We have to be quick.”

With a silent nod, you followed Minjun as he led you to an empty dressing room, much larger than the broom closet where he had put Jude last time.

Jude greeted you with an awkward “hi” as soon as he saw you. His voice sounded even smaller in the big room. He looked small, too, but brighter now, more vibrant.

It was his eyes, you realised. He seemed excited.

“Hey,” you replied and noticed quickly that your voice was small, too. “H-how are you feeling?”

Jude’s expression suddenly shifted to one of deep thought. You took note of his trembling hands when he lifted Sid’s phone.

“Nervous,” he admitted. “I brought this for you to see for yourself.”

He extended the phone towards you. You trusted Minjun when he said he’d checked it, but Jude seemed to be seeking your approval as well. You took the device from him, and he informed you that the passcode was “six sixes,” which you found very fitting for the devil incarnate.

You unlocked it, then tapped on the gallery and scrolled through the standard, abstract art images pre-installed on every phone. The generic bright colours were all you found here.

Feeling your heart rate increase already, you opened his Cloud storage. It greeted you with a message that, at this point, could have easily become the title of Rated Riot’s next album: “iCloud Drive is Empty.”

“Okay, that—uh, w-we’re nervous, too, by the way,” you said, your thoughts jumbled as you handed the phone back to Jude. Minjun’s smile widened when your eyes flickered to his; your plan was going smoothly so far. “This is—you did a great job, Jude.”

Jude’s face nearly began to glow. You shrank back, finding his beaming expression discomfiting. It did not look unnatural per se; it just looked misplaced—like someone else’s smile got lost and took temporary shelter on his face.

“I, uh,” he fumbled in the pocket of his jacket, “I also grabbed this.”

He pulled out a set of keys, and you only needed half of a glance to know that they belonged to Jungkook’s Katana. You turned to Minjun again, but he shook his head. Jude hadn’t told him about this.

“Sid had them in his jacket,” Jude explained. “Could you give them to Jungkook?”

You hesitated for another minute before you took the keys from him. And you remembered, suddenly, the first time you’d seen Jungkook with his bike: you were already working together at that point, and he’d arrived on it for a meeting at the company.

He had treated the bike with such care as he showed it to you and the band at the end of the day, almost as if it were a part of him, and Yoongi had pointed out how typical this was. How men—not Yoongi, though, he insisted—constantly grew too attached to their bikes, how they cherished them more than significant others. So, you had jokingly asked Jungkook if the Katana was the love of his life, too. And he’d responded, without missing a single beat, that it wasn’t. That you were.

He’d said it with a smug grin, so, of course, you assumed he was just teasing—because, in your defence, he often was—and you rolled your eyes and didn’t think much of it. But now, holding the keys to his bike that he’d given up, you accepted, finally, that he’d meant it, even back then.

“You did—you didn’t have to get them,” you told Jude, surprised to find yourself breathless.

“I wanted to,” he said. “We’re getting back at Sid.”

You exchanged another glance with Minjun. The two of you had worried that Jude would change his mind once he saw Sid again, but you’d clearly underestimated his desire to finally break free.

“That’s right,” Minjun said. “We are. You’ll, uh—you’ll have to go back to the hotel. Take his phone back to him.”

“I know,” Jude replied, slipping back into his role of a follower. “And then?”

Minjun looked at you, indicating for you to continue. You bit your lip, searching for the right tone to say this. You knew you were putting Jude in a direct line of fire, and you felt a little guilty because you weren’t sure if he even realised it.

“Wait until I call Sid,” you said. You put the keys in your pocket and crossed your arms. “And, I guess, after Sid leaves, let Minjun into his suite. I assume you have the key?” Jude nodded; Sid was passed out, he had no problem grabbing his room key along with his phone. “Minjun will do the rest, but you can—you could help him. We’d appreciate that.”

Jude appeared delighted. He craved appreciation, and you could tell that he received it very rarely.

“I’ll help,” he decided.

For a minute, it seemed like your conversation had ended. But Jude swayed lightly on his feet and played with his fingers, evidently gathering strength for something more.

“By the way,” he finally said, “um, there are cameras in the hotel.”

A quick new surge of anxiety washed over you, and you turned to Minjun, who looked about as stunned as you felt.

“I thought—I thought it was an old hotel,” you said, not quite accusingly but not very gently, either. Your shock prevented you from softening your voice. “Like ours. Ours doesn’t—it doesn’t even have elevators. It barely has bathrooms.”

Minjun felt guilty. He was the one who had assured you not to worry about the cameras. He knew that Sid preferred his accommodation to lack modern inventions—it helped him evade security when he brought questionable companions and dangerous refreshments to his hotel room every other night.

“I thought that’s the sort of place Sid would choose,” Minjun explained apologetically. “He doesn’t like cameras, for understandable reasons.”

“Well, th-they have cameras in the lobby,” Jude said. “And in the corridors. I noticed them when I was coming over here. I don—I don’t know what you wanted to do in Sid’s room, but it—there are cameras at all entrances. Sorry.”

The cameras were obviously not his fault, but you could see how flustered he became to have delivered the news that brought the dark clouds to this room.

“It’s—fuck, it’s not good,” you said, grateful that Jude had gained an impressive awareness of his surroundings seemingly overnight, but still anxious, nonetheless.

Your initial idea was to get Sid arrested and hope that the police would get to his hotel suite eventually. But then Minjun convinced you that he needed to check Sid’s room in advance, and it turned into an important part of your plan.

He insisted that Sid might have hidden the drugs, and he wanted to make them more noticeable for the police to find—in case Sid would bribe the officers, and they didn’t feel like searching through the whole room. Minjun figured that if the police saw questionable white powder as soon as they opened the door, easily visible to any curious onlooker, they couldn’t easily clear Sid of this.

You weren’t sure if Minjun’s idea would be considered tampering with evidence, because the evidence was, technically, already there, but you were uncomfortable with it regardless. Minjun didn’t want to ask Jude to do this, because you didn’t yet know if you could fully trust him. But you didn’t want Minjun to do this, either, so naturally, the two of you had argued about this vehemently.

You felt like having another argument with him right this second.

“Minjun, uh,” you said, “could I speak to you outside for a moment? Jude, would you excuse us?”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Jude replied easily. You did not want to leave him here instead of sending him back to Sid to return his phone, but you had no other choice—Minjun was already looking for a way around the hotel cameras.

He followed you out of the room, a little puzzled. You stopped at the very end of the corridor, in front of a dusty floor-to-ceiling window, and looked around to make sure you were here alone. People were talking inside nearby rooms, so you leaned closer and lowered your voice when you spoke.

“Alright,” you said, nibbling on your bottom lip, “I don’t think you should go to Sid’s hotel. I think we should let Jude handle it.”

“What?” Minjun replied, clearly frazzled. “I thought we were involving him as little as possible.”

“We were,” you said. “But if we don’t involve him right now, then we have to involve you, and—”

“But I said I’ll do it,” he retorted, his whispers wild. “I said I’ll go to his room and check. That was the pl—”

“Right,” you cut him off. “But we didn’t know there’d be cameras. It’s a small hotel. Even if no one notices you there, they might notice you in the footage.”

Minjun’s solution to this was so quick that it made you wonder if he had thought of this several days in advance.

“Sid’s room is on the third floor,” he said. “I reckon I could climb up there from the second-floor balcony.”

“And how would you reach the second-floor balcony?” you shot back equally as quickly. “You’d have to cross the lobby to enter the hotel either way.”

He thought about it for a second longer and came up with what he personally thought was another great idea. “Maybe there are rain pipes?”

You gave him a long look.

“Minjun,” you said. “You’re not Spiderman.”

He groaned and stepped back to lean against the wall. “Fuck, I’m just—”

“Come on, Minjun,” you urged, growing desperate. “It’s not worth the risk. We have to ask Jude to do this for us. He’s staying at the same hotel anyway. It makes sense for him to be there.”

He turned to look out the window. He didn’t like this. He wanted to be sure. He wanted Sid to get burnt, not merely grazed. And, he supposed, he wanted to be the one who set him on fire.

But, logically, Minjun knew that the only reason he would have to go to that hotel, would be if you still couldn’t trust Jude.

Jude had just brought you Sid’s phone to show you that he’d done all that you’d asked. He brought Jungkook’s keys, too. He told you about the cameras. He was on your side.

Minjun exhaled. It didn’t make sense for him to go there.

“Fine,” he said. “Alright. Fine. Let’s—tell Jude to spread Sid’s shit around after Sid leaves to see you.”

Your heart rate picked up, but you tried to subdue your relief. You still had a long day ahead of you.

“Yes,” you said, turning around. “Okay. Let’s—let’s go back.”

The two of you returned to the dressing room where Jude was still waiting in the same exact spot where you’d left him. He had seemingly occupied himself with watching the walls while you were gone, but the creaking of the door returned his attention to you.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yes, uh—just a quick change of plans,” you said, while despondent Minjun closed the door behind you. “We’re, um... going to ask you to do something else for us.”

Jude straightened and nodded. He looked this close, you thought, to giving you a military salute.

“Anything,” he said.

You glanced at Minjun before continuing. You knew he wasn’t pleased with this change of plans, so you appreciated the reassurance in his eyes even more. He may have been unhappy, but he was on your side.

“After I call Sid, and he leaves,” you said, turning back to Jude, “do you think it’d be possible for you to enter Sid’s room without being noticed by the cameras?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Our suites are at the end of the corridor, bit of a blind spot. The camera faces the staircase.”

“Okay,” you said, taking a deep breath. “Then go to his room as soon as he leaves, and make sure that—”

“The rest of his chalk?” Jude cut in. “I should bring it out of his suitcases, right?”

Minjun turned to you, his eyebrows raised. Jude had never been quick, for as long as Minjun had known him, but his dedication to getting rid of Sid was remarkable. He seemed to have figured out the details of your plan on his own.

Minjun gestured for you to proceed. You’ve decided to trust Jude and there was no way back now.

“Yes,” you said. “It—that’s exactly what you should do. Make sure it’s in plain sight. Not necessarily all of it, just a bag or two—or whatever he keeps it in—so the officers would see it right away. We’re sure Sid will use any means necessary to make the police think we’re framing him, so they might be neglectful. You would help ensure that they do a thorough search of his suite. You’d show them that he’s guilty.”

Jude’s eyes glittered. Minjun was very impressed by your ability to choose the precise words that Jude wanted to hear.

“But don’t touch the bags directly,” he added, and Jude redirected his attention to his friend. “Wear gloves or use a plastic bag to pick them up and throw them around the room.”

You nodded, agreeing, and Jude reflexively nodded, too.

“Okay,” he said, ever as obedient. “I’ll do that.”

“And are we sure that Sid will bring some of his stuff with him here?” you asked, glancing at them both. It would be disastrous if the one time Sid decided to leave his drugs at home would be today.

Minjun was the one to answer you.

“Yeah, he carries his shit with him everywhere,” he said. “If not in his jacket, then in his jeans. He’ll have it.”

Jude raised his eyebrows with the same enthusiasm as before.

“I can check that, too,” he offered. “If he—if it’s in his jacket. If it’s easy to find.”

Minjun turned to you again. Right away, he recognised the distress on your face—not only were you relying on Jude for half of your plan, but you were also putting him at risk. You felt awful. Minjun did, too. But he hated Sid with enough passion to ignore his discomfort.

“Okay,” Minjun took over. “That sounds good. Check his jacket, too, if you get a chance.”

You turned your uneasy gaze back to Jude. You almost expected him to demand something in exchange for helping you, but he kept nodding his head, not saying anything.

He would do this for you because you asked him to. That was how Sid kept him around for so long: by giving orders that Jude felt compelled to follow.

“I’m—thank you, Jude,” you said. “You’re doing a great job. And we don’t want you to go through anything that Sid will have to go through, okay? So, be careful.”

Jude swallowed and nodded once more.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll take his phone to him and wait for your call. After he leaves, I will check his hiding spots and bring his stash out. I’ll be careful.”

You shivered at the decisiveness of his tone. You knew that you weren’t playing a prank on Sid, you were actively conspiring against him—but hearing Jude repeat the details of your plan back to you made this feel much more significant. Much more real.

“Yes,” you said. “And leave immediately after, okay? Check out of the hotel.”

“I’ll come meet you a few blocks away,” Minjun inserted. “You can stay in my room at our hotel.”

Jude gave another nod of agreement. The anxiety rising in your stomach was starting to make it difficult for you to breathe.

“Jude,” you said, “you’re doing—you’re a great help to us. I know we’re all a team now, but still. We really appreciate it.”

Jude smiled, and this time, his smile did not look misplaced. It matched the light in his eyes, even if it wasn’t quite sure what it was doing on his face.

“Thanks,” he said. “We’re a team. I—I’m going to go now.”

“Good luck,” you said. “We’ll see you later.”

The moment the door closed and Jude’s quiet footsteps faded down the corridor, you crossed your arms and met Minjun’s exhausted sigh with a similar one of your own.

“Well,” Minjun began, “it looks like we’ll have to rely on Jude a lot more than we originally thought.”

You sighed again. “Yeah. I mean, he seems alright.”

He did seem alright. But Minjun felt an itch under his skin, and he couldn’t make it go away no matter how much he scratched and stretched.

“I still want to go in there,” he said, “and make sure we’re really good to go.”

This alarmed you; you thought you’d already decided to let Jude handle Sid’s suite.

“But—”

“No, listen,” he cut in, “Jude said Sid’s room is in a blind spot. So, how would anyone know which room I entered, even if they did see me in the lobby? Maybe I’m visiting someone else.”

“But why draw attention to yourself?” you argued. “Why make yourself look suspicious?”

Minjun felt ants crawling all over himself; he did not like your questions.

“I just want to be sure we’re good to go,” he repeated, turning away from you.

“We are good to go, Minjun,” you pleaded softly. “Let Jude do it.”

“And what if Sid hid it all,” he still insisted, “and Jude can’t find it?”

“Then you might not find it, either,” you replied. He clicked his tongue, discontented. “I just don’t want you to risk getting caught on the CCTVs there. Jude is staying in that hotel. It’d be easier for him to get to Sid’s room, it’s far less risky. It makes more sense. Let him do it.”

Minjun kept his gaze on the floor, his jaw clenched.

You knew that he wanted to finally stand up to Sid, and it wasn’t your place to intervene. But you were the one who suggested getting Sid arrested, and now you wanted to ensure everyone’s safety and limit their reckless decisions in this plan to as few as possible. Minjun walking past the cameras in the hotel and breaking into Sid’s room seemed reckless. It seemed reckless for Jude to do it, too, but on a lesser scale—this was a risk you hoped you could afford.

“Jude might touch the drugs, too,” Minjun mumbled after a minute. “I don’t know if he’ll realise not to, even if we told him to be careful.”

“Then we can call him and warn him again,” you said. “But I’m sure he’ll be fine. He—he only looks a little dumb, but he’s ready. He wants nothing else to do with Sid.”

Minjun stayed quiet, and you did not say anything, either, allowing him some time with his thoughts. He already knew how risky it would be for him to go to that hotel. He just needed a minute to push his own ego aside and focus on getting Sid arrested, even if that meant he had to stay back and just watch it happen.

“Alright,” he said after a minute. “Yeah, fine. I’ll stay here.”

A deep, resigned sigh followed his words, and you allowed yourself to close your eyes and lean against the door of the room for just a minute.

“Okay, good,” you said. “We—we should be alright.”

You sounded as confident as you could under the circumstances, but Minjun sensed every nervous undertone in your voice.

“Yeah,” he said, twisting the silver band on his index finger. “We should be. You—the more you praised and thanked him, the more willing Jude became to do anything for us. Sid had never given him positive feedback in his life, and you’re giving it all to him in one day. So, I-I think you’re right. He’s on our side. He wants to do this, too. We will be fine.”

You nodded slowly. You hoped you were right because the rest of your plan relied on this.

You were right.

Later that same day, you would learn that Jude had done a spectacular job at improvising. You’d never considered him to be particularly bright until today—actually, that was putting it nicely—but he was Sid’s friend, so he had destructive behavioural patterns ingrained deeply in his brain. That worked in your favour.

Apparently, Jude got worried that Sid would sleep through Rated Riot’s set, and that would derail your plan. So, he made sure that Sid wouldn’t wake up if touched, and strategically dangled Sid’s hand over the edge of the bed. Then, planning his exit, he opened the window to create a draft with the door. Finally, he forcefully dropped Sid’s phone from across the room, and ran out before Sid registered the noise.

The screen of the phone cracked, startling Sid awake. Right away, he noticed his outstretched hand and his broken phone on the floor, and his thought process was very simple: he dropped his phone in his sleep and woke himself up. The window was open, so the wind must have rattled the door of his room at the same time, adding to the noise. That’s all there was to it—never mind that the damage to the phone was far too bad, given the distance from his hand to the floor, and there was no wind outside the window.

Jude’s improvisation proved excellent in another way, too: Sid thought the cracked screen was the reason his phone wouldn’t turn back on, and why it appeared empty once he plugged it in to charge. He thought he had broken it, and he was very unhappy about that.

Jude, meanwhile, was overjoyed. He sent you a text with an innocuous smiley face, and started to pack his belongings.

You received his text and proceeded with your part of the plan.

First, you had to borrow an old flip phone from one of the middle-aged roadies on tour because it was the only device that could fit your prepaid SIM card.

And then, as soon as Ivy started her opening set and Rated Riot gathered in their dressing room for final preparations ahead of their performance, you called Sid.

He answered on the first ring with a word that you did not understand. He didn’t sound sober.

“Sid?” you asked.

“Yeah?” he responded, the sound slightly distorted on the old phone. “Who is this?”

“It’s me,” you said, intentionally avoiding names. You hoped he’d recognise you because you doubted many women voluntarily called him. “Can you talk?”

It took Sid a minute to place your voice, and the line stayed quiet while you waited.

“What—what number are you calling me from?” he asked. That was good. His first reaction was not, ‘why are you calling me?’

“It’s my number,” you said. “Just—I made it private, so—I don’t want anyone to know I’m talking to you.”

The number obviously wasn’t yours, although Sid wouldn’t be able to tell. The prepaid SIM card was meant to ensure your anonymity in case the authorities checked his call history and traced the number back.

“Why?” Sid asked. He didn’t sound accusing or annoyed, merely confused.

“I have something I want to discuss with you,” you said before adding a deliberately half-panicked, half-angry whisper, “but listen, no one can know.”

Sid was obviously befuddled. A long “ahhh” preceded his response before he found actual words.

“What are—what do you want?” he asked, and then, to your horror, he softened his voice. “I mean, to discuss with me.”

You took a deep breath. You were grateful that he hadn’t hung up and instead continued to speak to you in this unbecoming, warm tone, but you still felt nauseous and had to clutch the flip phone to your ear to stay in the moment.

“I—I’ve been thinking a lot,” you began, following the script you had written on a piece of paper that you couldn’t wait to burn later. “Jungkook and I—it—it’s not good. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m—listen, I don’t want to talk to you about this over the phone. Jungkook can—well, you know, it’s a phone. I don’t know, maybe he tapped it or something.”

There was a minute of silence. You wondered if you’d overdone it, if your hesitation had not sounded natural.

“Jungkook tapped your phone?” Sid asked, sounding incredulous.

“He might have, I—he’s acting very irrationally, and I’m—honestly, I’m realising that I was wrong about you,” you said. You had to pause to close your eyes and calm your stomach. Sid took the silence to mean that you were gathering your strength, and you really were, just not in the way he thought. “Jungkook is—he’s acting crazy. Ever since you posted that picture on Instagram, he’s been controlling everything I do. I can’t—I can’t do this. So, I’m—look, I need your help. I think you’re the only one who can help me get out of here. Can you meet me?”

You held your breath, expecting to wait while Sid considered your request—but he did no such thing.

His response was immediate. “Where?”

The second you heard the question, you knew that Minjun had been right. Sid would come here to see you—but not because you’d asked. He was going to come here purely out of spite for Jungkook.

“Are you in London?” you asked, your voice shaking.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“I’m at The Academy,” you said. “Can you come?”

“I’m not allowed,” he reminded you—exactly like you expected him to. “Jungkook blacklisted me.”

“I’ll talk to security,” you said. “They’ll let you through.”

He fell silent again, and you knew he had a lot to wrap his head around, yet you still worried that you might have been too forceful. But you shouldn’t have doubted this. You’d mentioned Jungkook, and Sid was deaf to everything else.

“Wh—can you just—why do you need me to come there?” he asked, sounding curious, even lazy, but not suspicious.

You supposed the text messages you’d sent him in advance had also helped, like you hoped they would. Now, your desperation to see him seemed more believable.

“I need your help, and I can’t leave the venue,” you explained. “I’m the—you know my job is to stay here. People will notice if I leave. They’ll know something is up. I need—I need you here.” You paused when you heard Sid’s garbled inhale on the other end. Loathing every moment of this, you swallowed, and continued, “Rated Riot are about to start their setlist, so no one will even know you’re here. Please? I—I really need you.”

He did not seem to notice the way you choked on the last words, but he was silent for a very long time, and you began to second-guess yourself again. You couldn’t help it—this was so unrealistic.

You’d hated Sid for as long as you’ve known him. Surely, even if he believed you needed his help, and even if Jungkook was involved, he would laugh in your face and tell you to fucking deal with it on your own.

“Alright,” he said instead and you felt shivers run down your spine. Jungkook was that much of a sore spot for him. “Fine. Yeah. You’ll speak to security?”

“I—yeah, I promise,” you assured him—and you didn’t lie, technically. You had already talked to Mick. “Come straight to the dressing rooms, I’ll be waiting for you there.”

“Alri—” Sid started to say, then stopped abruptly. “What do you want to talk to me about?”

“I can’t tell you over the phone,” you repeated. “I don’t want—no one can know, okay? It has to stay between you and me.”

“Alright. Shit,” he said, encouraged, as it seemed, by this ominous you-and-me. “I’m coming. Wait for me.”

“Okay,” you replied, trying to unclench your teeth. “I’ll be waiting.”

Ending the call, you exhaled and shook your hands vigorously as if that could help you recover from the conversation and stop shuddering.

You felt even more nervous now—if you struggled so much to talk to him over the phone, how would you handle him face-to-face?—but you couldn’t afford to lose your courage.

So many things had to fall into place for you to succeed—Jude needed to run into you in that club in London and Sid needed to leave him alone when he nearly overdosed—and it all felt frustratingly circumstantial. But all that was left now was up to you, and you’ve spent days planning this. You knew what you were doing.

You waited for Sid and paced in the room. Then, remembering suddenly, you pulled out Jungkook’s lighter from your jacket pocket—jangling the keys of his Katana as you did—and burnt the piece of paper with all that you’d written down before your call. The flames were delicate and shy. They disappeared into the air as soon as they finished the job, and not even the sprinklers on the ceiling picked them up.

It took Sid about fifteen more minutes to arrive, and he rounded the corner towards the waiting area while breathing heavily as though he’d run all the way here.

You pressed your palms into each other behind your back to keep your composure. He was wearing a thick North Face jacket, far too warm for this weather, and you wondered if Jude had managed to double-check what was inside.

“That was shit to get through,” Sid remarked once he saw you in the doorway of one of the empty dressing rooms. “Fucking Mick hates my guts.”

You’d warned Mick to be as rude as he possibly could when Sid got here, but you still didn’t like that Sid used his first name. Mick was the guardian angel of this tour; he was the quiet backbone of every concert. You wanted to punch Sid a little just for mentioning him so offhandedly.

“Yeah, he—he takes his job very seriously,” you said. “Thank you for coming here.”

Sid followed you into the dressing room and looked around. He hadn’t seen anyone other than Mick backstage—you made sure he wouldn’t—but he still seemed on edge.

“Are we cool to talk here?” he asked. “You’re not worried about Jungkook overhearing us?”

“No,” you said. “They’re about to go on stage. We’re good.”

It was easy to talk to him when you didn’t have to lie. And it was even easier when Sid asked all the wrong questions. If he had decided to point out that you hated him and asked why you’d changed your mind, you were sure you’d start stuttering again.

“Okay.” He stuffed his hands in his jean pockets while you stood across the room, your arms folded tightly over your chest. “Well, wha—why did you ask me to come?”

“I want to talk to you,” you replied. He could not discern the expression on your face or the tone of your voice.

“About what?” he asked.

“About us,” you said.

His eyebrows shot up and his mouth stretched downwards in an expression of comical surprise. “Us?”

“Yeah.”

His gaze flickered for a minute, drifting away, then returning to you again. He looked unsure of himself, and witnessing him in a similar state of disorientation as Jude had been when he was first here, was extremely entertaining. You almost wished you had a camera somewhere in the room.

“Okay,” Sid finally said, waiting for you to lead the conversation.

“What are you thinking right now?” you asked.

The question deepened his confusion. “Huh?”

“What did you think about just now,” you clarified, “when I said ‘us’?”

Sid frowned and did not reply. You could tell that he was very confused about your different mood, but he was already here, so you did not owe him any more false pleasantries. You just needed to keep him here a little longer: to get a proper reaction out of him in front of your scheduled witnesses, and to give Jude enough time to finish his part of the plan in Sid’s room and check out of the hotel.

“That’s fair,” you said in response to his silence. “You don’t have to answer.”

“I’m—why did you ask me to come?” he asked, glancing behind himself.

The room was hidden from the rest of the waiting area by an awkward corner wall, providing you with enough privacy to leave the door ajar, so it would make sense for Mick and Luna to find you here later, but it also wouldn’t make Sid uncomfortable. He seemed fairly content to leave the door open as he talked to you.

He was perplexed, however. You watched his beady, cockroach-like eyes dart between the window and the couch behind you. He wasn’t sure if he was being paranoid. He didn’t like that you did not look nearly as panicked and vulnerable as you’d sounded on the phone.

“You don’t have to look around,” you told him. “It’s just us here.”

He scoffed, not convinced. “I know it’s not.”

You felt a bubble of worry in the pit of your stomach, but you swallowed it and maintained eye contact. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You have security everywhere,” he replied.

“I told you I talked to them.”

You saw some of his armour loosen. He was still puzzled by your rigid posture, but now he seemed less inclined to flee.

“Right,” he said reluctantly. “You said you needed my help.”

“I did,” you confirmed. “Can you answer one question?”

He furrowed his brows again.

“Sure,” he said, but his response sounded like a question. He couldn’t guess what would happen next, and he was beside himself. You’ve never seen him fidget like this.

“Why did you come here?” you asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve been texting you the whole day yesterday,” you said. “You didn’t reply to me. Then, suddenly, you did. And now you’re here.”

You already knew why he texted you back when he did; Jungkook had provoked him. But you wanted to hear Sid’s logic. This had been bothering you ever since Jungkook told you about the videos Sid had sent him—the simple why.

Sid wanted to establish his superiority, you understood that much—but why was it so important to him? After all, Jungkook had never posed any serious threat to him until now.

This was not part of the plan, but you figured that since you had to keep Sid here for a while longer, you might as well make the most of the situation.

“Oh, yeah, no, my phone—it broke, the glass cracked, all my shit is deleted,” he said. “I’m trying to figure out how to access my Cloud. I forgot my password.”

“Oh,” you said. “So that’s why you didn’t reply?”

Sid shrugged. “Yeah.”

You narrowed your eyes before quickly adjusting your expression. You may have dropped certain parts of your act, but you were still the worried, confused, and very innocent damsel in evident distress. You weren’t interrogating him.

Sid seemed to read the expression on your face as precisely that.

“Don’t worry, I’m—I would have replied to you if my phone was okay,” he said and you had already predicted that he would say this very thing. It was a standard response for guys like him: I would have replied, but. I would have called, but. I really would have, but.

You cleared your throat and hoped very much that your face would appear relieved to hear this. “Really?”

“Of course,” Sid assured. He was soothed, seemingly, by the hopeful glint he thought he saw in your eyes.

“I just—I have another question,” you said. “Are you here to get back at Jungkook?”

You could have been more subtle, but you did not want to be. Sid wasn’t expecting the question anyway, and his confusion clouded his judgment.

“I’m—why do you think that?” he asked.

“You two hate each other,” you explained. “I thought that was why you came here. Just to get back at him.”

Despite your calm demeanour, you sounded unsure when you spoke, and that helped Sid feel more at ease. He believed you were insecure about his motives. He thought you wanted to hear that he’d come here for you, only you. Not Jungkook.

“Well, sure,” he said. “But—you’re—you know.”

“No,” you said. “Explain it to me. I don’t know.”

“Well, it’s, like—I mean—you said you needed my help,” he replied very concisely.

You sensed what he was trying to convey, and you enjoyed his struggle to find the words for it. It was pathetic, though. You could tell just by looking at him that the emotions he wanted to talk to you about weren’t genuine, yet he still couldn’t put them into words.

He wanted you to think he had feelings for you, so you’d drop your guard. So you’d stop asking questions and come to him, and Jungkook would lose you. But if there was anyone in this building that Sid genuinely had feelings for, it was himself.

“Well, yeah, but you—you posted that picture,” you said, feigning hurt. He’d wounded you and now you doubted his intentions—this way, he couldn’t doubt yours. “And you sent those videos, and—I thought you hated me, too. I didn’t think you’d agree to help me.”

“I don’t hate you,” he said. “This isn’t about you.”

Your overstimulated mind perked up. It finally started to feel like you were getting somewhere.

“It’s not?” you asked.

“Well, it’s a little about you,” he admitted. He chuckled here, too, and you felt a foreboding churning in your stomach even before he said anything else. “I mean, I liked you f-for a short while. Nothing serious. I think I even told you about it.”

“You did not tell me.”

As his awkward chuckling ceased, you caught your mask slipping and blinked a few times, trying to appear less threatening.

“Well, it didn’t last long, so it doesn’t even matter,” he added, glancing around the room.

“Mhmm.” You contemplated various ways to phrase yourself next, hoping that any way would work as long as your voice was quiet and unsure, maybe with an insecure chuckle at the end. “But why did you send those videos? What are you—what’s the reason?”

He closed his eyes and groaned. “How can you ask me that? After thinking that Jungkook tapped your phone? I thought you realised what he’s really like.”

You looked down, needing a moment to recall all that you’ve told him so you could continue to play along.

“Oh, no, I mean—no, I know,” you said. “I see what he’s like, I’m just—I want to know what you were trying to do, and, uh, maybe we can help each other.”

Sid appeared pleasantly surprised to hear this, but his expression quickly morphed into one of his sly grins—the sort that was toxic if you were exposed to it for too long. “Oh, yeah?”

You swallowed; you thought you could already taste the poison on your tongue.

“Yeah,” you replied.

He exhaled and took a few steps deeper into the room, right past your side. You forced yourself to stand still as he approached the window, glanced outside, and then turned back to you.

“It’s my revenge,” he said.

“Revenge,” you repeated, internally cringing at his choice of words. “For what?”

“For you.”

You raised your eyebrows and clutched your arms around yourself tighter. This was what you were waiting to hear, but, at the same time, it wasn’t.

“For me?” you asked.

“And for his band,” Sid added.

You did not reply, too worried about the turmoil you felt inside. The stirring in your stomach had suddenly intensified—as if the outer lining of your organs had begun to peel off like old paint does when it comes in contact with something acidic. You were starting to discover that Sid was toxic to be around in more ways than one.

“He’s got—he thinks he’s the shit now that he’s famous,” he continued. “Now that he’s back with you. He needs to be taken down a notch. That’s all.”

“That’s all?” you asked skeptically.

“Yeah,” he said with a nonchalant shrug. Taking someone “down a notch” seemed to be a regular activity for him.

“And you don’t think that’s a waste of time?” you asked. “I mean, I think we should just leave him be and… you know, move on with our lives.”

“No, that’s not how it works,” he declared. There was a newfound intensity in his eyes, an angry flame of sorts, and it made you realise just how lifeless his gaze had been otherwise. This was truly his purpose, you realised. If he wasn’t making others miserable, he wasn’t really living. “Somebody steps out of line, you need to put them back in their place. Or they won’t learn their lesson.”

You lowered your gaze before you could start shaking your head at his self-assured tone.

“But why does it matter if he learns his lesson or not?” you pushed. “If—if we’re leaving and won’t have to deal with him anymore?”

His lips spread in a dangerous, serpentine grin.

“We’re leaving?” he asked. He sounded thrilled and you wanted to knock his teeth in.

“Well, I would hope so,” you said. You also hoped that the twitching you felt in the corners of your eyes was phantom, and he could not see how much your body detested his presence.

Sid considered this for a second. You could see some sinister plan brewing in his mind.

“Alright. Yeah,” he finally said. “I like the idea of us going away. But it’s still unfair to leave debts unpaid, you know? This shit goes back years. He’s always tried to upstage me. Picture this: on my birthdays, I usually borrowed my dad’s yacht and got all my friends. And for the last few years, Jungkook was spending the whole night at the helm, handing everyone drinks like some Great fucking Gatsby in that book, fucking singing, and just trying to be the centre of attention. It’s my fucking birthday, and he’s acting like the star of the show.”

You had to pause to allow for several bits of new information to sink in. You were surprised, first of all, that Sid knew what a book was. You also learnt that he was so far up his own ass that he could not be accurate if he was gifted objectivity for Christmas.

You had heard a different version of this story from Jungkook. When he told you about these yacht parties, he had emphasised how new these experiences were for him, and how Sid was the one who’d made them possible. He’d used one of these parties as an example of the good moments in their friendship. You could sense awe and subtle gratitude in Jungkook’s words. No malice, no jealousy.

But Sid had evidently felt threatened. Yachts weren’t a luxury to him, they were a regular occurrence. And he felt intimidated by Jungkook’s unbridled joy because he cherished these experiences in a way that Sid never could.

“Oh,” you said after a moment. “I’ve never—I didn’t know about that.”

“Yeah,” Sid said with a childish sneer. “And don’t fucking get me started on what he was like when he was still with you. Never fucking shut up about having to see you. He thought he was some king of the fucking world, thought he was better than us. He tried to make us feel like losers because you chose him. And I knew things were shit for you two because he never told us about anything that you did together. But still, he fucking—his fucking head was the size of the moon. He really thought he was the shit. And then—get this. I said I wanted to be in a band. So, guess what he did?”

You were impressed by how offended Sid sounded as he complained about Jungkook not sharing the details of his relationship with his friends. And you were just as impressed by his perverse interpretations of how Jungkook’s relationship made him feel—he felt left out. He felt jealous and angry. He always had to have more than his friends and now, for the first time in his life, he didn’t.

And you remembered this dream about their own band, too – the conversation Jungkook said he’d had with Sid, Jude, and Minjun on the beach. How Sid wanted to be a bassist, how he owned all of Sex Pistols’ records. You’d thought they were joking until Jungkook brought this up again just the other night. And now you could tell how serious they were just by looking at the scowl on Sid’s face.

“Not to mention,” Sid continued, providing you with all the answers you sought, and looking very pleased as he did. To him, this must have felt like you were already agreeing with him. “Jungkook is the only one of my friends that my mum likes. I don’t know what it is about him. She fucking adores him. Like some stray fucking cat, I swear to fuck. And, of course, every time he’s at my house, he goes out of his way to kiss her ass, and she falls for it every single time. He should have been grateful I even invited him to see me, he should have been fucking kissing my ass, but instead, he was trying to appear like a little angel to her.”

This wasn’t something that Jungkook had mentioned to you before, and you were surprised. You only knew about Sid’s stone-cold mother from what Minjun had told you.

“What do you mean?” you asked. “What was he doing?”

However reluctant Sid might have seemed before, now he looked elated about the opportunity to elaborate.

“He brought her favourite chocolates whenever he came over, he polished her car when we were working on my granddad’s collection—and nobody even asked him to touch her car. He fucking sent her cards on her birthday,” he listed off, scoffing to himself. “And then I got shit for not congratulating her right away, even though I had something planned. For later. He was—he was setting some fucking standard that I had to live up to. And why the fuck should I? I’m her only son. Who the fuck is Jungkook to her? Fucking nobody. He’s a fucking wannabe, that’s what he is. He fucking acts like he fits in with us, but you can take one look at him to know that he never will. He’s nothing.”

You glanced at the window on your side. Sid got something exactly right; Jungkook really wanted to fit in.

He wanted Sid’s mother to approve of him like he wanted everyone to approve of him. He hoped that gaining her acceptance would make him feel more included in their inner circle. He would become Sid’s friend, not just someone Sid hung out with occasionally. They’d be as equal as they could be, given their vastly different backgrounds.

But Sid saw it all as a threat. And he was envious, too. He thought he had to compete with Jungkook for everything, even his mother’s affection. And he was understandably upset because he had the entitlement, the legacy, the money. He had a whole dynasty behind him. Jungkook had nothing.

For a very long time, Jungkook had been trying to come as close to Sid as he could, even though he knew he could never have what Sid had. And now, all of a sudden, Jungkook had so much more: he had the band, a promising career, a devoted fanbase, real friends. He had the girl, too.

And you realised that Sid didn’t want to merely demonstrate that he was better than Jungkook; that wasn’t it. He was obsessed with Jungkook—because he wanted to be Jungkook.

“So you thought those videos would put him in his place?” you asked. “You thought they’d teach him a lesson?”

“That was just for starters,” Sid said, grinning again. “I was going to make sure he lost you first, then the band. And I also have his bike. He would lose everything else on his own. Not that there’s much else to lose.”

You ran your fingers over your chin. You hadn’t had a chance to give Jungkook the keys to his Katana yet, and the weight of them in your pocket was quite pleasant.

“I see,” you said.

“So, what—will we do it?” Sid asked, blowing into his fist and rubbing his palms together. “I mean, he’s already lost you.”

You realised, quite unexpectedly, that you didn’t really want to punch him anymore. He was so deeply miserable already, purely of his own accord, that there was nothing you could do to make him feel worse about himself. You just wanted to get him out of here—preferably in the back of a police vehicle.

“How would—how do you think he’d lose the band?” you asked.

“I’ll post those videos I sent him,” he said easily. “Well, after my phone gets its shit together. His band will fear for their reputation, and they’ll get rid of him. Simple. And then every time he’ll try to sing, I’ll pull up something I have in my gallery. He’ll have to live the rest of his life quietly, without bothering anybody.”

You nodded along as you listened. You and your friends had suspected Sid would do this very thing. And now the thought of him trying very hard to get back at Jungkook after tonight, but failing every time, was very inspiring.

“What are you thinking?” he asked after you didn’t reply.

You looked up at him. “I, um—do you know what time it is?”

He glanced at the obnoxiously large, diamond-encrusted watch on his wrist. You doubted he could tell time that well, and Sid confirmed it when it took him a good fifteen seconds to calculate what each number on the mechanical watch stood for.

“Nine twenty-four,” he said. “Why?”

“No reason,” you replied. You’ve kept him here for almost half an hour at this point. That was as much time as you agreed on with Jude and Minjun; Jude had to have finished by now, ideally with some time to spare. “You came here from your hotel?”

“Yeah,” Sid said. “You want to go there?”

Finally, you allowed yourself a small smile. “I don’t think either of us will be going there.”

His eyebrows gathered into an uncertain frown. “Hmm?”

“I invited you here,” you said, “because I wanted to see you one last time.”

The previous confusion you’d seen in Sid’s eyes doubled. He did not make a move, but you saw him stiffen.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, and you were close enough to see his pupils shrinking.

You were the one to shrug casually this time. “I figured it’d be quite boring without you here.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he replied slowly, his gaze fixed on your face.

Your smile lacked any real sympathy, despite the pitiful click of your lips. “I’m afraid you’ll have no choice.”

“What?” he asked again. You watched him slide one of his hands into his jacket pocket. It must have been reflexive, he couldn’t have known that you knew what he carried there. But you were still glad. You were going to tell the police later that he kept reaching into his pocket anyway. At least now you wouldn’t have to lie.

“I’m just thinking, what else did you bring with you to London?” you asked. Jungkook told you not to beat Sid up, but he didn’t say anything about taunting him. “Something that you wouldn’t mind sharing with the police, maybe? We could have a little Show and Tell.”

You noticed his arm tighten inside his jacket sleeve; he must have clenched his fist in his pocket. “What—what the fuck are you saying?”

He had reverted to his usual manner of speaking, and you felt far more comfortable when he was foaming at the mouth instead of half-whispering just to maintain a seductive tone with you. His real face was slowly coming out. You could already see the fangs.

“Why do you look so alarmed?” you asked. “Did you bring something that you shouldn’t have brought with you, but figured, what’s the worst that can happen?”

His jaw was tight. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, you do.”

He glared at you in a poor attempt at intimidation, and you heard the faint sound of footsteps in the corridor. You knew that Luna and Mick were right there, behind him. He was trapped.

“Is this why you called me here?” he questioned. You doubted he’d sensed the others, because he still looked fairly composed. “You’re trying to—trying to trick me into—into what? Admitting that I do drugs?”

“I’m not trying to trick you,” you countered. “I’m just having a conversation with you.”

He squinted at you. “You don’t need my help, do you?”

You almost laughed at the absurdity of the question; you knew he was slow, but this still surprised you.

“I did, actually,” you said. “And you’ve already helped me loads. Thanks.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he snapped, finally displaying some of the aggression you’d been anticipating. His hand flew out of his pocket but remained relatively close to the rest of his body. “Y-you—you think you’re going to bust me for drugs? You think this is my first time in a foreign country?”

Your smile was patient.

“You think this is my first time talking to you?” you returned. “You think I spent all these years dealing with your shit and learnt nothing?”

For a very heartwarming moment, Sid’s eyes looked ready to pop out of his forehead.

“The cops wouldn’t find anything,” he snarled, taking a step closer to you.

You shrugged and did not move. “Alright.”

“You’d be the one they question for wasting their time,” he continued, taking another step until he was a mere foot away from you.

“Fair.”

He leaned in closer, each of his words so self-assured that it was a wonder he hadn’t done a backflip yet to prove how absolutely incredible, how untouchable, how totally one-of-a-kind he was.

“You still think you have something on me?” he snarled.

You leaned back slightly to be able to meet his gaze without your vision blurring from the proximity and his awful smell. His cologne was not rich enough to hide the powerful stench of all that he’d consumed before he came here.

“Is this a threat?” you asked. Your tone was calm and you saw the way it made the veins in his neck bulge.

He scoffed. “How is that a threat?”

“I am feeling very threatened.”

“I’m not even touching you,” he retorted. He was a little nervous, you could tell. He thought he could pay his way out of any trouble, but he would still be inconvenienced if you called the police.

“Who’s going to believe you?” you countered. “You reek of liquor and weed.”

“Oh, so you’re going to frame me, is that it?” he asked, raising the pitch of his voice to mock you.

You figured he would think he was invincible until the very end, and you appreciated that his unwavering arrogance would become precisely what brought on his downfall.

“Framing implies I falsify charges,” you said.

He ran his tongue over his upper teeth. “Well, I never threatened you.”

“And I never lied to the police.”

Sid continued to stare at you without blinking. He hadn’t expected to find himself in this situation with you. He hadn’t expected you not to blink, either.

And it occurred to you, with him so close, that despite the act he put on, despite his perpetual sneer, he was truly incredibly insecure. This—standing right in your face—was the most he could do.

“Hmm. I see,” he said. You heard his jacket scrunch as he moved, but you did not look away from the slits in his pupils. “You have to understand, though, if I wanted to threaten you, I w—”

You noticed the movement of his arm out of the corner of your eye and slapped his hand away with the edge of your palm just as he reached to touch your cheek. Sid yelped and recoiled in surprise.

You had underestimated your strength when you were on so much adrenaline, and the dull slap echoed in the empty room. It took him a moment to understand what had happened.

“Fuck—y-you’re the one who just pushed me,” he said, looking at his hand as if you’d drawn blood. “And you’re the one who called me in here in the first pl—”

“Mick!” you called out, cutting him off.

Mick was standing right by the door and Sid did not get another chance to interject before the security guard popped his head inside. He looked at you, then at the increasing distance between you and Sid as Sid crossed the room away from you.

“Yeah?” the guard asked, stepping inside.

“Call 999 for me, would you, please?” you asked, keeping your eyes on Sid as he smirked to himself. “We have a trespasser here.”

“You fucking invited me,” Sid shot back, rolling his eyes. “You told them to let me in.”

“I did no such thing,” you said.

“Y—you fucking called me!” he continued, momentarily thrown off balance. “And you kept fucking texting me, and told me to—”

“I would never call you.”

The unshakeable tranquillity in your eyes as you lied right to his face made him livid. You hoped it would.

“You fucking bitch,” he spat. “I have it on my phone. The messages might be gone, but you called me—”

“Sid,” you said in a voice so indifferent that he stopped speaking and just glowered at you. “You are behaving very irrationally and posing a threat to me and your surroundings. Mick is legally allowed to restrain you until the police get here.”

Mick put his phone away and took a step closer to Sid. Sid took an instinctive step back, closer to you. He appeared so confused, so cornered, that not even his persistent scoffing—a coping mechanism, you started to realise—could help him retain his nonchalance.

“I’m behaving irrationally?” he questioned. “How the fuck am I—”

“Hey,” Luna called from the door. Your heart lifted at the sound of her voice, but faltered when you saw Minjun next to her. He wasn’t supposed to be here. “I heard yelling. Is everything alright?”

“I-I found a trespasser,” you explained. “I feel very threatened.”

“I understand,” she replied, her voice mechanical. Sid looked like he wanted to throw things, then break them when he noticed Minjun. “He is yelling at you and flailing his arms. I also feel threatened.”

Sid’s sardonic laughter gained more volume.

“You’re fucking ridiculous,” he growled. “Did you all plot this together? Do you know who I am? This will never fly.”

“The police are on their way,” Mick told him. “You’re coming with me.”

You allowed him to take charge and moved towards Minjun and Luna; she immediately wrapped a protective arm around your shoulders. The three of you watched Mick grab both of Sid’s hands and dodge a clumsy slap as Sid made feeble attempts to resist.

“You have no fucking idea what I’m going to do to you, Minjun!” Sid cried. “Your family is fucked. They’re so fucking fucked!”

You reached out to touch Minjun’s arm when you saw him swallow back his anger. He glanced at you, then at Luna, and nodded before turning back to Sid.

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad for us, compared to where you’re going,” he replied calmly, forcing Sid to break into another fit of incomprehensible screeching.

Mick guided Sid towards the door, using his full weight to restrain him as Sid writhed in his grip. As soon as they crossed the threshold of the dressing room—where Sid fought violently to break out and cursed Minjun to hell and back several times—Mick pulled him into himself and half-carried him to the security room.

Sid yelled all the way down the corridor, ensuring that there were plenty of other witnesses to his outburst. The venue staff and your tour staff all heard his threats, they all saw him resist Mick’s hold. You couldn’t have planned it like this if you’d tried—and it was mostly due to Minjun showing up. Seeing someone that he considered a mere plaything stand up to him had clearly snapped something in Sid’s brain.

It took the police twenty minutes to arrive, and Sid had not closed his mouth once. You found that you quite enjoyed it; every scream from behind the door of the security room about how he was going to “fuck this place up” and “find every single one of you” and “kill you, you insufferable fucking bitch” sounded very melodious. Even Minjun loosened eventually, enjoying the moment he’d waited so long for.

Despite your efforts to keep the rest of your friends away from this scene, Maggie found her way to you just when the officers entered the venue. She was concerned about the screams she’d heard from across the building, but she was relieved to see you, Luna and Minjun chuckling outside the security room.

“Get it together,” she warned you with a grin. “The police are here. We want them to take us seriously.”

“Can we watch?” Minjun asked, nodding at the security room. One of the two officers had left the door open.

You moved closer instead of replying, and all four of you peered inside.

The space was cramped, but the scene inside the room was beautiful: Sid was on his knees, pressed against the wall, and he looked feral. His hair fell in aimless, overly gelled strands around his face, he snarled and barked at anyone who addressed him, and the younger officer appeared genuinely afraid to touch him for fear of getting his hand bitten off.

The other officer turned around in the meantime, noticing you. He approached, but Sid was yelling so much that the officer could not even ask you for a quick recap of what had happened before they got here. You understood what he wanted anyway, and leaned in to shout your explanation in his ear.

“He kept reaching into his pocket while talking to me,” you said, according to your plan. “I’m afraid he might be armed. We didn’t mention this on the phone so he wouldn’t hear us a-and decide to use it.”

There were no weapons, you were sure. You just needed the officers to check Sid’s pockets with intention, not merely graze over them.

The policeman gave you a nod and turned back to face Sid. The younger officer stepped back, seemingly relieved that he wouldn’t have to touch him.

“Stand up,” the senior officer ordered.

Mick let him go, and Sid jumped to his feet with such angry vigour that he collided with the metal table in the middle of the room. He cursed again and attempted to punch the table in irrational fury, hissing in pain the second that his knuckles connected with the surface.

“I am so happy,” Minjun whispered next to you when Sid leapt in the air in pain. “This is literally the highlight of my life.”

“Mine, too, I think,” Maggie agreed, snickering. “Wish I’d brought my camera.”

Biting back your own laughter, you shushed them so the policemen wouldn’t hear.

“Stop, stop,” the older officer was telling Sid. His voice sounded a little alarmed as Sid clutched his hand and spun around. “You’ll hurt yourself. Stand by that wall.”

Sid continued to mumble profanities under his breath, but he complied. The officer approached, gently kicked Sid’s shin to get him to spread his legs, and began to search through his thick jacket.

He meticulously patted down Sid’s shoulders, then his chest, until he pressed on something—the very something you and Minjun had hoped he would press on—and pulled back with a frown. A light bag, securely wrapped in cling film, tumbled out past the various zippers on Sid’s jacket and landed on the floor.

Across the room, Maggie gasped. Both officers jumped back as if a ticking bomb had fallen out of his pocket.

You noticed that Sid looked surprised, too. You glanced up at Minjun, and he gave you a solemn nod. He already knew that Jude had to rip Sid’s usual inner pocket to make sure the bag would fall out when poked with enough force.

The older officer was the first to react as he yelled at his younger colleague who quickly sprung into action and pressed Sid roughly into the wall, effectively restraining him again. The other officer then pulled out his receiver and spoke into it with such urgency that you almost began to feel uneasy, too.

“That—that’s not mine!” Sid protested despite struggling to speak with his face pressed against the wall. “I don’t know how that—it’s not mine, it—”

The young officer pushed him into the wall harder and said something to him, more assertive now that Sid’s rage was replaced with fear. You couldn’t hear what he said from where you were standing, but you could tell from the way Sid swallowed and quieted down that it was not a phrase of gentle encouragement.

“It’s not yours,” the older officer repeated as he pushed his receiver back into the case, “but it fell out of your jacket?”

“It’s—”

It took Sid two seconds to realise that he was in deep trouble—and another two seconds to make this much worse for himself.

“I was just taking it to a friend,” he said.

You could no longer suppress your smile.

The senior officer raised an eyebrow, then quickly lowered it. He refrained from asking further questions—although he certainly looked like he wanted to—knowing that it would only incriminate Sid more.

“You can tell us at the station,” the officer said, pulling out gloves and tweezers to pick up the small bag from the floor, careful, so the white powder inside wouldn’t spill out, “about whoever you were taking it to.”

Sid noticed the way the officer’s voice changed as soon as he mentioned this friend, and he realised what this must have sounded like.

“I—no. No,” he decided, his panic deepening. He knew that supplying was a much more serious offence than possession. “I wasn’t taking it to anyone. No one paid me. I’m not selling. I was just—”

“You’re going to the station,” the officer repeated. “You can tell us about your friend there.”

“I’m saying I—I lied!” Sid shouted. He sounded frantic, desperate, scared. It was perfectly musical. “It’s not—I wasn’t taking it to a friend. It’s for me! It’s mine.”

“Oh, this much?” Maggie called out.

You were startled by the abrupt sound of her voice. Sid was too, as he whipped his head around, forcing the officer cuffing his wrists to stagger on his feet and push Sid’s head back into the wall.

“Shut the fuck up,” Sid yelled, promptly interrupting the officer as he began to recite his rights to him. “I will fucking—I will kill you—I will fucking kill all of you, I swear—”

“Son,” the older officer interjected sternly, grabbing Sid’s arm from his younger colleague and dragging him towards the door of the room. Maggie pulled you and Luna aside to make room for them to walk past. Minjun stepped back, too. “I’d like to remind you that you are under arrest.”

“Fuck you,” Sid snarled, staring at Minjun.

He glared at him all the way down the corridor of the venue, straining his neck as the officers pushed him forwards, and you followed them outside. Just past the back exit, you and your friends stopped to watch—with immense pleasure—as they took Sid to their car.

“Jungkook will go down with me, you know!” Sid yelled, resisting their attempts to protect his head as they pushed him onto the backseat. “I’m his friend. He invited me!”

You saw his flaring nostrils from afar and you could tell how much he wished that Jungkook stood next to Minjun right now. How much he wanted to get one last reaction out of him, to threaten him with payback like he’d done to Minjun. And you were glad Jungkook wasn’t here to give Sid the satisfaction of being his punching bag one last time.

“Jungkook was the one who banned you from Rated Riot’s shows,” you reminded Sid as he kicked the seat in front of him. “That was why we had to call the police.”

“Your obsession with Jungkook is really unhealthy, by the way,” Minjun added. “Maybe you should work on that before someone realises how jealous you are. That’d be awkward.”

The older officer glared at Minjun, but there was a softness in his eyes that indicated he only meant to softly chastise him for this unnecessary addition.

“You fucking cu—” was going to be Sid’s last choral arrangement, but it was drowned out when the younger officer slammed the door shut.

The officer then walked around the car and got into the driver’s seat, while his older colleague stayed back to talk to you. He told you that he would have taken you to the station as witnesses as well, but he understood how busy you were. When he bashfully admitted that his daughter was actually in the audience of Rated Riot’s show right now, you felt so high that you could have easily floated away.

He pulled out his notebook and returned the subject to Sid, asking you to be quick and concise. He said that things did not look good for Sid either way, but the procedure required him to get your statements.

Your account was very straightforward: Sid had forced his way into the venue, yelling and cursing, and demanded to see you and Jungkook (Luna’s statement confirmed this: “It was frightening,” she’d said, “I thought he was going to hurt someone.”). Then, you called security. Sid looked irrational, almost crazy, and he resisted all of your efforts to restrain him. He threatened everyone, it was so very awful—and not entirely false.

Then, Minjun recounted how he’d heard Sid’s shouts from the smoking area outside, and Maggie told him about hearing the same shouts from the bathroom across the venue.

In the meantime, you shifted your gaze to the police car. The officer inside was stuck listening to a lengthy barrage of Sid’s curses—“fucking pigs, all of you”—and introductions—“do you know who I fucking am?”—but he did not turn his head to acknowledge Sid’s hysteria. You wondered if they had any spare muzzles lying around in the trunk.

The officer emphasised to you that, after the scene Sid had caused, there was little he could do to escape punishment. And you knew that the discovery of illegal substances on his person provided strong grounds for obtaining a search warrant for his residence—where you knew he kept the rest of his supply that Jude had made sure to spread around the room.

And now even if Sid evaded possession-with-intent-to-supply charges, even if he hired expensive legal counsel, even if he tried to bribe the officers and their dogs, too – this was done.

Sid thought he was invincible, he had escaped consequences his whole life. But Jungkook was his biggest weakness, and he was the one who brought the consequences to Sid.

You were dizzy with delight.

Jungkook was so worried about your plan that it lingered in the back of his mind all through the band’s performance. But then he spotted you sometime at the end of the show, smiling at him with the stage lights reflected in your eyes, and he completely forgot what you’d just done. He was just happy you were here.

It was Maggie’s side-hug as she walked past you and seemingly stopped to ask if you were okay that reminded him. And when you looked up at him again, meeting his gaze and nodding, he knew.

Sid was gone. And you were here.

Jungkook came very close to jumping off the stage and kissing you. He would have done it, really, everything else be damned, but the song change kept him in place. Rated Riot did not have many ballads—only two, maybe two and a half if you included the first half of “Haunting”—but the few that they had, came at this point in the show.

He stayed on stage, but he was still too excited to give the songs a proper mournful mood as he kept jumping and smiling into the microphone at all the wrong moments. Nevertheless, the audience greeted his energy with unwavering enthusiasm, and Jungkook thought that this night would become another memory—one of many, lately—that he’d want to stay forever etched into his mind.

By the end of the show, he felt like parts of his skin had caught fire. He was filled with so much energy that he could have walked to Paris right now and performed a show there immediately. He even frightened a few fans with his incessant jumping as the band stayed back for their traditional informal Meet & Greet after the show.

As soon as it finished, Jungkook made his way to you backstage—still breathless, shirtless, sweaty, and ecstatic—and hugged you as soon as he found you, despite your half-hearted protests. He was damp and sticky, and purposefully holding onto you tighter when he heard you complain about it.

Noticing the sight, the rest of the band members piled into the room, hollering war cries and jumping on the two of you in a chaotic group hug. With all five of you giggling and suffocating under each other’s weight, you didn’t notice Minjun and Jude lingering in the doorway.

You were greedy for a minute—maybe two minutes—as you soaked up the band’s bliss and enjoyed the moment before breathlessly telling the boys to go and have fun. They thought you were just saying that so they’d let you breathe, so naturally, they stayed huddled together longer, purposefully torturing you. They tousled your hair when they pulled away, and ran off, seemingly bouncing off the walls of the room as they went.

Jungkook wiped his face with a towel that he’d kept over his shoulder, his smile never ceasing. When you managed to tear your gaze away from his lips, you finally noticed that Minjun was grinning at you from across the room, with an uncertain Jude next to him. Minjun had picked him up immediately after the police left with Sid.

You took a step towards them, but Taehyung accidentally hit a few chords on his bass as he was putting it back into the case across the room—the melody held an uncanny resemblance to Queen’s “Another One Bites The Dust”—and all four members of Rated Riot, in various out-of-tune voices, immediately belted out the chorus, blocking your path with their haphazard gyrations.

There was cause for celebration—like there was every night, but tonight, especially—and you allowed them to pull you into their dance.

Jungkook was still humming under his breath when he led you to the side of the room a few minutes later, eager to learn more about Sid. You motioned for Minjun and Jude to join you, too, and then stretched up on your toes to find Luna and Maggie in the crowding room. They spotted you first and approached, bouncing with excitement.

Jungkook was patting Jude on the back, but the girls pulled all of you into another group hug that sent all of you into a new fit of laughter.

“The show was that good, huh?” Jimin commented, amused by your affection, as he finished setting up the drinks on the table next to you.

You extended your hand to make room, and he snuck into the very middle of your group hug, holding onto Luna and Minjun.

“It was!” you agreed. “We’re celebrating.”

“When are we not?” Jimin replied, readily accepting the glass that Maggie handed him once she broke the hug.

You and Jungkook distributed the rest of the glasses to your little group, and Minjun poured the tequila. Absolutely exhilarated, all of you clicked your glasses together, laughing and splattering your drinks everywhere. You were a little worried about Jude, but Minjun kept his arm on Jude’s shoulder, giving you a nod when you met his eye. He’d watch over him.

You downed your shots and realised belatedly that you didn’t have any chasers. Understandably, the only solution was to wash off the bitter taste with another shot of tequila, leading to a very entertaining rest of the night.

Just a few shots later, Jimin excused himself to find Seokjin. There was another bet backstage about whether you would finally drink after the final show in London—you hadn’t last time—and Seokjin owed him money.

Now, with only those of you who had plotted against Sid left in this corner of the room, the atmosphere darkened just a little. Your adrenaline had begun to wear off.

“Okay, I know we’ve talked about getting him arrested and whatever happens next happens, but I am curious,” Luna said, breaking the weighty silence. “How would it go in court? Hypothetically? Could he still avoid a prison sentence?”

You sighed. “He’s a first-time offender, so probably.”

“But wh—I mean, I actually doubt that,” Minjun interjected. “Considering the amount he has in his hotel room.”

You finished your shot before replying.

“There could be something else that makes the court lean towards a more lenient sentence, though,” you said. “He could—”

Minjun shook his head and cut your pessimistic approach off.

“Mitigating factors are good character, remorse, and proven steps to overcome drug use,” he cited. “Does any of that sound like Sid?”

You nodded, conceding. You’ve read about this together when you first began to plan Sid’s arrest, and Minjun had asked you the same question back then. Only a few extenuating circumstances could have applied to Sid, and even those were a stretch.

“Mental health could be a mitigating factor, too,” Jungkook added. “Sid is, I’m almost certain, insane.”

You raised your head to smile at him. At this point, everyone here knew that Sid was undoubtedly crazy or somewhere thereabout.

“That’s true,” Minjun agreed, smiling, too. “But they won’t release him back onto the streets, then. He’ll be institutionalised.”

“That’s good,” Maggie said, exhaling in evident relief. You hadn’t realised how concerned this change in conversation had made her feel. “I don’t want his ass coming anywhere near us.”

“He won’t be,” you assured. You may have been doubtful about Sid’s future behind bars, but you did not doubt that you’d never see him again. “If this won’t work, we’re all getting restraining orders.”

“Oh, nice,” Luna said, grinning. “We’ll save the officers some time if we all get one together.”

You snickered. “Exactly.”

Luna chuckled and stopped patting Maggie’s back to pour herself another drink. You and Jungkook both extended your empty glasses, too, and Luna playfully rolled her eyes before filling them.

“Honestly, I don’t even care what sentence Sid gets,” Jude said, and he began to stutter as soon as your little group turned to look at him. “I-I just want him to s-suffer a little.”

Maggie, ever as vindictive, raised her eyebrows at him. “A little?”

“For starters,” he clarified.

She nodded, much more pleased with this response, and broke into a lively tale about the positive feedback she received from Rated Riot’s fans after posting the blacklist—as though she was the one who had singlehandedly banned Sid—and the clouds of eerie disquiet above you quickly cleared.

Shortly after that, Taehyung grew bored and came to find Luna—with Jimin lingering by his side and playfully pulling Luna away from him. After Taehyung managed to run off with his girlfriend, Jimin changed his targets and continued his drunken twirling around a flustered Minjun, who kept insisting that he did not dance. Maggie had to pull Jimin away with an energetic pirouette, leaving the rest of you to yourselves.

Just then, Yoongi and Hoseok convinced Seokjin, Jimin, and Maggie to head back to the hotel, which was just a twenty-minute walk from the venue. They were all drunk enough to think they’d have a blast walking there and you had to dispatch Namjoon to accompany them. He was quite tipsy, too, but at least his limb coordination was not worse than it usually was. He’d drag them with him if one of them grew too tired of walking—you knew that one of them would and you gave Yoongi a knowing look before he left.

Minjun, Jude, Jungkook and you were the last people who remained in the dressing room to finish the drinks. You took this time to encourage Jude to tell you about what he did, and he shared the story about breaking Sid’s phone.

Happy and light from the alcohol, Jungkook wrapped an arm around your waist, allowing you to lean into his side as you listened. It was extremely relieving to laugh about everything that you’ve been through today.

“So, we’re done?” Jungkook asked after Jude finished. “This is it?”

You glanced at Minjun just as he turned to look at you; the two of you had developed a special bond over the past few days. Then you turned to Jude, too. Both of them nodded.

“We’re done,” you confirmed. “They arrested him.”

Jungkook’s arm around your waist tightened as he drew you closer.

“And the hotel room?” he asked then.

“It’s all there,” Jude replied. “I took care of it, but I-I barely had to do anything. Sid kept everything literally lying around.”

You nodded, relieved. “Good.”

“Really, Sid was the one who did everything,” Minjun added. “We just… made it more obvious. That still took a hell of an effort, but it’s all over now. Great job, guys.”

He leaned in to pat Jude on the back, and you reached out to give a supportive squeeze on Jude’s arm, too.

“We wouldn’t be here without you,” you told him, happy to notice that tequila had helped Jude’s tanned skin regain some of its glow. “The hard part’s finally over.”

“Fuck yes,” Jungkook exclaimed, perking up. “It’s fucking over.”

He reached out to high-five Minjun, then Jude, and you did the same, smiling all the while. You turned to Jungkook then, but instead of connecting your palms, he wrapped both arms around you and exhaled deeply against your neck. He settled in your embrace, showing no signs of moving anytime soon, and Minjun had to clear his throat, dramatically turning his head away.

Grinning, Jungkook released you but kept one of his hands on your back.

“Let’s head back to the hotel, yeah?” you suggested, and all of them nodded. “We all need to get some sleep. And I still need to take twenty showers in a row to get rid of Sid’s stench.”

Jungkook remained oblivious to his surroundings as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Mind if I join?”

“Ugh.” Minjun grimaced. “Get used to this, Jude, these two are fucking intolerable.”

Jude snickered at this, and you laughed, too, taking Jungkook’s hand in yours.

“Thank you for everything you did today,” you said, your gaze stopping on all three of them.

Minjun’s expression softened. “Oh. It’s all for a good cause.”

“Yeah,” Jude said. He appeared more certain now, his voice was louder. He lost Sid but found his friends. He’d be alright. “W-we did this together.”

You smiled and turned back to Jungkook. He gave you a quick nod, and you understood. Patting Jude and Minjun on their shoulders as you walked past, you excused yourself to give the three of them a moment alone.

“Seriously, guys,” Jungkook said after you left. Minjun was a little uncomfortable with the intense gratitude in his friend’s eyes, but Jude was extremely touched. “Thank you for this. You’re a fucking rockstar, Jude, shit. And Minjun, thank you for being one of the masterminds behind this. How are you so fucking smart, but friends with us?”

They all laughed at this, but Minjun shook his head while he did, lowering his gaze.

“It was mostly your girlfriend’s plan,” he said. “She, uh—she made sure my ass doesn’t get busted along with Sid, actually.”

Jungkook was beaming. He would never tire of hearing you referred to as his girlfriend. Actually, he would never tire of hearing people talk about you and him in the same sentence, but this was even nicer.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said. “She’d have also found a way to break you out of prison.”

Jude nodded, agreeing very strongly. “I bet she would have.”

Jungkook chuckled. He never thought he’d see the day when you would become friends with his friends, and he felt a little unsteady on his feet.

This moment here, tonight, felt very different from what he was used to, but it felt right. He hadn’t even realised how heavy the rock with Sid’s name on it had been on his chest, and how light he felt now that it was pushed off. How light he felt now that he was here with his friends. How happy.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he told them.

“We’re glad to be here,” Minjun replied.

Jude cleared his throat and raised his glass. “Fuck Sid.”

It had become their mantra, and Jungkook raised his fist in the air.

“Fuck Sid,” he echoed, grinning.

He wanted to find some additional encouraging words, but he was starting to grow restless, shuffling his feet and scratching his palms. Minjun was quick to conclude that he was looking forward to finishing the conversation and leaving the room.

“Go,” Minjun told him. “Jude and I are going to go out for a smoke. We’ll see you later.”

Jungkook looked very grateful. He would not even pretend to protest.

“Alright,” he said, already walking away. “Save me one, and thanks again! You’re two of the coolest people I know. But she is the first one.”

Snickering, Minjun called after him, “rock on. And stay safe!”

Minjun and Jude could still hear his laughter, even though Jungkook had already left the room in a hurry to find you.

He spotted you by the exit, and as soon as you extended your hand for him to take, he ran the remaining few steps to get to you faster. He gave you a quick peck on the lips, and was about to open the door when you stopped him by pulling on his hand.

“Hold on,” you said. “I have something for you.”

Jungkook was a little puzzled—and very intrigued—as he watched you search the pockets of your jacket. Never, not even when he was dreaming and couldn’t control the signals that his subconsciousness was sending him, did he imagine you pulling out the keys to his Katana.

“Here,” you said. “Jude got them from Sid.”

He heard his friend’s name, and he saw the keys out of the corner of his eye, but his gaze remained locked on yours, as though fearful that this wasn’t actually happening, that perhaps his mind was playing tricks on him.

It wasn’t the keys that he had trouble processing. It was you, giving them back to him.

“I’m…” he faltered, the rest of his sentence never making it past his lips. He tried a different one instead. “Thank you.”

You shook your head. “I’m just the messenger.”

“Well, you could have told Jude to take them back to Sid,” he pointed out, his throat dry. “I think that’s, um—that’s what I would have done.”

Observing his flustered state, you raised an eyebrow.

“Why?” you asked. “Did you change your mind about the bike? Is the paint peeling off, so you don’t want it anymore?”

Finally, his expression lightened, and a tentative smile returned to his lips.

“No,” he said. “And it would still be beautiful even without any paint. It’s what’s on the inside that matters.”

You grinned. “Very gallant.”

He remained hesitant, however, and you raised your palm again to give him the keys. You knew how much effort he’d put into the motorcycle, even though there were moments, when you first came to manage Rated Riot, where Jungkook’s obsession with his bike seemed unhealthy.

Yoongi—the self-proclaimed expert—had said that he’d seen this behaviour in almost all his friends. He was convinced that Jungkook was trying to compensate for something. Trying to fill some void in his life.

You remembered hating these assumptions. They had felt about as dangerous as Jungkook’s casual declaration about the love of his life.

“It’s your bike,” you said to Jungkook now, the keys cold in your palm. “I know how much it means to you.”

He took a sharp breath and shook his head. He did love the bike very much—as much as one could love an inanimate object, and maybe a little more—but he’s come to learn that he would give it up in a heartbeat for the things that truly mattered to him.

“It—it doesn’t mean to me nearly as much as you do,” he said. “I gave it up to keep Sid away.”

You swallowed the bitter taste in your mouth.

“You couldn’t keep Sid away even if you gave up Rated Riot,” you said. “He claims that’s what’s bothering him, but it isn’t. Not really. He just can’t stand the thought that you are bigger than he will ever be.”

“Hmm.”

Slowly, Jungkook took the keys from you, the tips of his uncertain fingers grazing over your palm. He examined the keys for a minute.

“I can put the keychain back on now,” he said. “It looks wrong without it.”

This surprised you.

“What—the “JK” one?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “I had to change keys after I moved to a different apartment, and I put the pendant on these for the time being. It felt right, so I kept it there.”

He lifted the keys as he spoke and you frowned. You remembered the lurid—atrocious, really—pendant that you’d found at a fair and insisted on buying for him because it spelt out “JK” in large, jewelled letters. You were just drunk enough to find the flashy jewels enticing and very amusing.

You’d assumed Jungkook had put it on his keys as a challenge of sorts. It was very ugly and very far out of his usual taste in accessories, but you bought it, and he would rather cut off an arm than turn down a dare. You thought he’d taken it off after you broke up.

“You still have it?” you asked. “It was supposed to be a joke, I think.”

“Of course, I still have it,” he replied, almost offended. When he gave the keys to Sid, he kept the keychain. It was one of his most prized possessions. “It’s cute.”

“It’s huge,” you countered. “It ripped every pocket of every pair of jeans you owned.”

“That’s because they were shit jeans,” he said. “You leave my keychain alone.”

You snickered with a noncommittal shake of your head.

“Fine,” you said. “I’m glad you’ve grown so fond of it.”

“You gave it to me,” he said. “Of course, I’m fond of it.”

He slipped the keys into his pocket and gave you a wink as he did—to let you know that he didn’t mind ripping this pair of jeans, too, once he reattached the keychain. Then he finally opened the door of the venue and took your hand into his, leading you outside.

The hotel was quiet when you returned, but you didn’t have time to wonder where the rest of the Rated Riot members were—you’d have definitely heard them if they were here—because Jungkook pulled you into his room as soon as you climbed the stairs to your floor.

His bathroom quickly turned messy, with your clothes scattered on the cold tiles. Jungkook had the rare talent of figuring out the shower mechanism within a second, and the warm water washed over you as soon as you stepped into the cabin after him. The glass panels on either side began to fog when you slid the door closed.

You knew Jungkook preferred his showers ice cold, but the water right now was scalding hot. He didn’t even ask you about it, didn’t try to negotiate. He simply made this comfortable for you and wrapped his arms around you, his grip unreasonably tight.

Hotel bathrooms, you realised, had become a significant part of your relationship.

“You still have to show me your playlist, by the way,” he murmured, following the path of the water droplets down your spine.

You sighed, feeling his chest move against yours as he chuckled. “What do I have to do to get out of it?”

“Show it to me,” he replied. “And I’ll shut up.”

“You never shut up.”

He laughed again, pulling back slightly to look at you. His hair fell in clumsy ringlets around his face—not wet enough to fully straighten yet—and you needed to remind yourself to keep breathing in, then out. He leaned in, wearing a teasing smile on his face, as if he knew that you’d stop breathing again as soon as he did this, and pressed his lips to yours.

You could taste the liquor that you’d shared backstage on his tongue and felt his warm breath as he exhaled against your mouth. Your touch on his neck was so delicate that he wasn’t fully convinced it was you, and not the stream of water that touched him. He wanted to hold you tighter to really feel you here, and he lowered his hands to the small of your back, gently drawing you closer.

Steam rose from the shower floor, and the glass turned grey from the fog. Jungkook would have been suffering in this heat if he had felt any of it. All he could focus on right now was you, and how you still tasted like a distant dream, no matter how many times he’d kissed you.

The shampoo remained untouched as your fingers explored each other’s skin, jealous of the courageous water drops—they dared to touch everything that your hands longed to reach.

Eventually, he blindly found the bar of soap on the metal shelf behind him, and broke away from the kiss.

Before you could say anything, he instructed quietly, “turn around.”

It took a moment for you to comply—not because of some defiance, but because the tattoos on his arm, when they were peppered with glistening droplets of water, were captivating in a way that they’ve never been before.

He rubbed the soap between his palms and massaged your arms and back, lathering the foam on your skin. His touch was slow and careful, although not particularly calculated as his hands kept wandering to every soft part of you. Every single one of his caresses seemed to cleanse something from your skin that mere water could never wash away.

A soft sigh passed your lips as his fingers followed the traces of bubbles on your navel, and you forgot everything that you were still supposed to do today. By the time he leaned in closer, his chest pressed against your back as he ran his hands over your collarbones, your chest, and your stomach, you forgot everything you’d done before today, too.

You realised, as you felt his breath against your neck, how calm you felt. How absolutely at peace—and how much you’ve waited for this. How much you wanted these moments to stay frozen in time, just yours and no one else’s, surreal and dreamlike even as you lived through them.

Jungkook noticed your closed eyes, and whispered softly, “are you okay?”

You hummed. “I love you.”

He felt your heartbeat under his fingertips. He felt the way your words echoed in his chest. And he realised that he was stupid to think he’d already experienced every human emotion in his life, because these sensations in his stomach were new. They felt like scattered branches of fir trees. Like the sharp edges of young pinecones. They stirred within him like a forest of evergreen trees: vibrant, timeless, and beautiful.

You’ve opened something inside him that he didn’t realise had been closed. And you’ve closed everything he regretted opening. You were every breath he took, every scent he smelled, and every flavour he tasted. You were every beat of his heart.

He did not think he could ever adequately express the depth of everything you made him feel.

“Thank you,” he said, because he couldn’t not say anything, “for everything.”

You turned in his arms, a little confused about his abrupt gratitude. Jungkook swallowed hard, his gaze locked on yours.

“I can’t—I don’t know how to say what I feel,” he admitted. “You change my life every day. Maybe that’s all there is to it.”

The look in his eyes as he said this reached something very deep inside you—something that had been waiting for him every day for the past seven years, and all the years before that.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your head on his shoulder.

“I love you,” you said again.

“I love you,” he replied, pressing his forehead to yours.

You felt his chest move as he breathed, and you closed your eyes again. You knew now that this was your safe space.

Contrary to Jungkook, who needed company to drown out the noises in his head, you were very fond of your solitude. Being alone with your thoughts provided you with a sense of security that you could never find with other people—because, as much as you loved them, they were still other people.

Jungkook did not feel like other people. He felt like you, as much as you felt like you. And right now, with the water running from his skin to yours, you felt calm. Easy. Solid, but serene.

He was your safe space.

“I have a meeting with the executives when we get to Paris,” you whispered, your words barely audible over the running water. “And—also the law team.”

He stilled in your arms for just a moment, then his fingers went back to their race against the water on your lower back.

“They set a date?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “The day after tomorrow, before your first show in Paris. Nine in the morning.”

“Oh.”

Taking a deep breath, you said, “I’m going to tell them we’re together.”

He pulled back a little and waited until you lifted your head so he could look at you.

“Okay,” he said. “Are you sure?”

The question was painful. You made a mental note to show more confidence when you gave him the answers that he wanted—because these were the answers that you wanted, too.

“I’m sure,” you affirmed.

He nodded, running the tips of his fingers over the ends of your hair. “Should we—um, do you want to—”

“Let’s meet after,” you said, answering his half-question.

“Yeah? Coffee?” he asked.

You nodded. “Definitely.”

He leaned into you again, inhaling the smell of the lilac-scented soap on your neck as his arms found their way back around your waist, and he hummed against your shoulder.

“You know…” he murmured. “If I had your playlist, it’d be easier for me to wait until your meeting was over.”

Your cheeks stretched before you could stop your smile. “What playlist?”

The circles he was tracing on your back turned teasing, chaotic. He felt you squirm at the tickling sensation.

“Don’t play dumb with me now,” he whispered. “Give me the link.”

You pulled back and squeezed his forearms to get him to stop moving his hands over your sides.

“Say please?” you said.

The request took him a little off guard, but his surprise quickly shifted into an impressed grin.

“Hmm,” he said. “Is that how you want me? On my knees and begging?”

You shrugged, trying to fight against the fog from the shower as it began to gather in your head. “I do sort of like the image of that.”

“Please?” he said—right away.

You watched him for a second, your chest alight with flames, and you decided that with the subtle curve of his lips and the sparkle in his eyes, right now was the most beautiful he’d ever looked. It wouldn’t last, though. You were sure he’d take your breath away again tomorrow.

“Mm, I’m not convinced,” you said. “Say it with your chest.”

He poked his cheek with his tongue, giving his head a slight shake. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I know.”

He shook his head again, then took a deep breath and pouted his lips.

“Please let me listen to the playlist you made about me,” he said, making sure to keep his voice devastated. “Please, please, plea—”

“Alright,” you said.

He was already about to start arguing, but he closed his mouth and grinned instead.

“Oh,” he said. “That was easy.”

You gasped, but the offence that barely appeared on your laid-back features made him chuckle. Stepping back, you gave him a look that was only stern in theory—there was no serious substance in the soft shade of your eyes.

“Don’t make me change my mind,” you warned.

“You can’t,” he replied, pulling you back into him. He seemed to know no other way: you were very close, and his hands were free. Naturally, he was going to reach for you. “You made a promise.”

You frowned. “When?”

“When you got into this shower with me.”

Your brows furrowed further. “I didn’t promise you anything.”

“You did,” he insisted. He was grinning mischievously and his eyes were narrowed—you could guess what he would say next.

You still bit, “alright, what did I promise?”

He looked triumphant.

“To be with me for the rest of my life,” he said.

You clicked your tongue, but your expression was luminous despite your attempts to hide it.

“That has nothing to do with my playlist,” you said, deliberately looking away. “And I don’t remember promising that.”

“Hold on,” he said, turning his head to meet your gaze, and gently lifting your chin to get you to look at him again. “You have objections?”

You had absolutely no objections and he could tell as much from the sparkling in your eyes. But you weren’t going to make this easy for him, and he expected as much.

“I mean, what if you have a change of heart?” you said. “And then having me around for the rest of your life starts to feel more like a curse? Although that’d be fun for me, I imagine. I’d love to mess with you. But it wouldn’t really be fair to you.”

He found the suggestion ridiculous. His heart had your name engraved on it in golden letters. There was no situation, as long as you were with him, that he’d find unfair.

“Unless hell freezes over tomorrow,” he said, “I’d say your odds are good.”

The corners of your lips twitched. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “Having you with me will always be a blessing.”

The clumsy cartwheels of your erratic heart forced you to look away again, and you tsked, making his smile widen with each disapproving shake of your head.

“You know, you say things sometimes,” you said, “and I know you know exactly what you’re doing.”

“Really?” His voice was exuberant. “Are you swooning for me, then?”

You grimaced. “I wouldn’t call it swoo—”

“Getting weak in the knees?”

“I don’t get weak in the knees.”

“No?” he teased. “But I’m literally holding you up right now.”

You glanced down, as if to check, and took a moment before raising your head again.

“That’s—for different reasons,” you said, and remained, very comfortably, right in his arms.

“Different reasons,” he repeated thoughtfully. “Such as?”

You did not spare him a glance. “Maybe I just enjoy having you so close.”

His grin was so proud, so radiant that you could see it without looking at him. It was loud, too; it drowned out the sounds of the shower and all sensations of the hot water on your skin.

“Oh,” he said, drawing you closer to his chest in one remarkably swift motion. “Now you’ve done it.”

You craned your neck to meet his gaze. “Done what?”

“Now I’m never letting you go,” he said, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “Literally.”

You chuckled softly and allowed him to drown you in his touch. It didn’t matter anyway—you couldn’t breathe very well unless you felt him next to you.

“That’s hardly possible,” you teased. “We’re very busy people.”

“I’ll make it possible,” he said. You remembered having a similar conversation with him before, but he had significantly more confidence in his voice now. “We got Sid fucking arrested. Everything else is easy. I can figure out how to keep you right next to me for every second of every day for as long as we both live.”

You were a little concerned that so many years had passed since you met, and the butterflies in your stomach only seemed to grow larger, bolder, and much more restless with every passing day.

“I still don’t think that’s possible,” you replied quietly, “but I don’t mind seeing you try.”

“Good,” he said, lifting his head to look at you. “You know I’ve never lost a single challenge I’ve accepted.”

You lifted one eyebrow, amused by his claim.

“Technically,” you said, “you lost the bet to Sid.”

“Oh—” the syllable got caught somewhere in his throat. “Fuck.”

He looked almost appalled, and he suddenly felt a little nauseous, too.

“Too soon?” you asked. Your lips twitched as you fought back against your laughter.

He dug his teeth into his lower lip and wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, maybe a bit.”

“Oh, no,” you whined. “Should we avoid talking about it? Is this a taboo topic?”

He watched your theatrics and realised that anything that didn’t kill you really did make the two of you stronger, because he had convinced himself that he’d never survive the aftermath of the bet—and now you were teasing him about it.

“No,” he said. “No, you’re right. In the grand scheme of things, I’ve done far stupider shit to have you with me again, so we should be able to joke about this.”

“Exactly,” you agreed, grinning. “At least you didn’t get a concussion this time.”

Jungkook didn’t think that not having a concussion was what made this better. Although, to be fair, he hardly remembered anything after the forgotten kettle fell on his head while he was trying to plan a date night for you—but really, you were more hurt by his pain when he told you about it years later than he was in the moment it happened.

“I hurt you, though,” he said slowly. “That’s worse.”

You gave a firm shake of your head.

“It wasn’t the bet that hurt me,” you said. “But you fixed every problem that did. We actually put one of them in the back of a police car tonight. And you and I learnt how to talk to each other in the process. Look at us now.”

He felt his heart pick up speed, but he was still hesitant to agree. He didn’t think he’d ever have the right to make the first joke about the bet, however harmless it could seem years from now.

He nodded slowly. “Hmm.”

“Next step is learning how to shut up,” you added.

Looking up from the tiles of the shower floor, he took a moment to register the playful glint in your eyes.

“Is—is that supposed to be directed at me?” he asked, squinting.

“No, I meant that in general,” you replied. “But if the shoe fits…”

He scoffed, sliding one of his hands down your arm to intertwine your fingers.

“Oh, if the shoe fits,” he repeated. “Alright. Did you go to Jin’s school of comebacks?”

“I did,” you played along. “And graduated with honours.”

He nodded. “I can see that. Teacher’s pet much?”

“Very much.”

His grin was criminal, and you wanted nothing more than to feel it pressed against your lips.

“Well,” he said, bringing your hands to his shoulders and pulling you closer, “I do enjoy it when you listen to me. And when you do what I tell you.”

“Hmm.” You ran your tongue over your lips, and he was thoroughly infatuated with the look in your eyes at the moment. “That implies you’re the teacher in our relationship.”

“Am I not?”

“You haven’t taught me anything.”

He snorted, dignified. “I’ve taught you plenty.”

“Name one thing you taught me,” you challenged, but you were smiling at him, and he struggled to keep his train of thought when he looked at you.

“I—well, I taught you to play guitar, didn’t I?” he said.

You frowned, baffled by his interpretation of the word “teach.” You remembered the nights when Jungkook tried to learn guitar, and you were forced to listen to him whine about how there had to be something wrong with him—because, of course, if he couldn’t immediately excel at something, that had to mean that he was the problem.

“Is that what you think you were doing when you were learning it yourself?” you asked. “Because not only did you break all six strings, but the neighbours started banging on the radiators, and we—”

“Okay, okay,” he interrupted. The night you were talking about wasn’t his best, but he’d improved considerably since then. “I also taught you how to fight.”

“And then forbade me from punching Sid,” you countered. “Doesn’t count if I can’t use it.”

He rolled his eyes. You waited for another example, even though he was notoriously terrible at teaching others—to be fair, he rarely ever had to learn things himself; usually, they really did come naturally to him—but Jungkook stayed quiet for a few minutes.

“Well,” he finally said, “I taught you how to stop running from your feelings.”

“You—” you stopped your instinctive rebuttal and took a moment to look down and calm your heart instead. “Okay. Yeah. I suppose you did teach me that.”

“That’s right,” he said, happy to finally gloat. “Be a good student for me, and kiss me now.”

You looked up, distracted but amused. “Oh. Is this assignment going to affect my final grade?”

“Mhmm. It’s worth 75%.”

“Hmm. So, I have to put in some effort, I guess.”

He nodded while his hands roamed on your skin absentmindedly. “Might take you all night to finish it.”

“I don’t know...” you said. “I was never very good at pulling all-nighters.”

“Maybe that can be something else I teach you,” he murmured, close enough to touch your lips with his own as he spoke.

You whispered back, “maybe,” and he chose to reply by finally pressing his lips to yours.

He kissed you like he would countless times in the future, and the teasing promises of forever seemed to solidify inside you, like invisible tattoos that ran across your souls. And you remembered, because how could you not, about the first kiss that led you to this moment.

It was seven years ago, at the end of your second date, after you got back from the carnival where he claimed to have asked you to be his girlfriend. He had whined about not being able to walk you to your door after your first date—you were both wet from the rain, and he wasn’t allowed into your dormitory—so you snuck him in this time.

But he got too nervous in the end – he walked you to your door, hiding his trembling hands in his front pockets, and said goodbye to you, all while nearly suffocating from his anxiety. He’d already started to walk away, but then stopped abruptly and turned back. You were still standing there, watching him, your hands not reaching for the door handle. You looked like you knew he was going to turn around.

He reached you in two quick strides and connected your lips with so much force that your back hit the wall. He cupped your cheek with one hand and placed the other one on the wall behind you—and your breath never made it out, losing its way somewhere in his mouth. You’d kissed him back, your body trapped between the wall and his chest, and you thought you’d never feel quite as dizzy as this again.

Years later, in the shower of his hotel room in London, Jungkook kissed you again and again and again, and his lips still made your breath hitch, still made the room spin out of control.

He kissed you and every single time, the feeling of his lips on yours made your head feel light. He kept one of his hands on your cheek, the other one on the wall behind you—like that very first time—and you remembered wishing, seven years ago, that the night wouldn’t end. That he would stay, with his lips locked on yours, his touch warm and silky.

You remembered counting, too, how much time was left until you inevitably had to say goodbye. It had all felt so dramatic back then, so temporary. There was so little time, and so much you still had to do, so much you still wanted.

Tonight, the edges of the sky outside the small, shaded bathroom window were turning red; the sun was rising.

You counted again – there were five minutes left in this night, and you already had everything you wanted.

chapter title credits: bad omens, “feral”

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[theharrowing]

Collateral 🗡️ 22: I just need a chance to breathe

Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You.

But was it simply a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or has he always had his sights on you?

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

🗡️ Yoongi x Female Reader x Namjoon, Jungkook x Female Reader

🗡️ word count: 15.9k

🗡️ mafia au, strangers to lovers, graphic violence, major character injury, poly, smut, angst, fluff, nsfw, explicit 21+ 

🗡️warnings: explicit smut (mention of sex & using a dildo; oral sex; ass eating; threesome; talk of anal & double-penetration but not actually doing it; multiple orgasms, cum eating) messy emotions (because, of course); fireworks used to scare characters (to simulate firearms and/or explosions); anxiety; mention of nightmares; the return of some familiar faces & introduction of new ones.

🗡️ a friendly reminder: if there is anything in the tags that may cause you emotional distress to read, please take care of your mental health and don't push yourself. as with any of my updates/warnings, if you would like to skip over a particular warning, please private message me and i can tell you where to begin and end skipping, as well as give you a rundown of what happens in that section.

🗡️note: wow. hello, friends. it's been a long time since i have come to you with a full chapter. are you ready??? did you know that i decided to turn mc's ex into an actually character??? hehehe. enjoyyy!!!

🗡️ beta read by @neoneunnajimin!

🗡️ posted on may, 2024 | read on ao3

My Namjoon,

I often dream of you lying in a field of wildflowers. Your body is sunken into green stems and purple petals, which blow gently in the breeze, creating a perfect you-shaped indent. You wear all white with your hands behind your head—relaxed and serene, without a care in the world. 

In my dream, time passes quickly, and the sun always falls, shrouding you in darkness while blotches cover your perfect white clothing and begin to turn deep, blood-red.

I wake up feeling suffocated. I wake up afraid.

My Yoongi,

Your blood is on my hands in my dreams and in the waking world. I know you do not blame me, but the thought of it makes me sick to my stomach. I hope one day I will be able to look you in the eye and not feel so ashamed. 

In your arms, I feel like a queen. I feel like I am on top of the entire world. Nobody has ever given that to me before, and nobody could ever come close. 

It is not the height that I fear so badly but the fall back to earth.

My men, 

The last few months have felt like a whirlwind…they have felt like a hundred years. I hardly remember the person I was before I stepped foot in the mansion. Worst of all, I hardly know the person I have become. 

Please don't blame yourselves for my need to break free. The two of you promised to give me the world, and I know with my whole heart that you meant it. You showed me more than once a taste of what that could feel like. 

But I fear I am not meant for this world. I fear that all of the joy and the money and the trips and the jewelry and the champagne and the drugs will only mask the fear and the anguish and the nightmares and the dread. My physical health and my mental health are deteriorating before all of our eyes, and I don't know what to do.

You told me that the only way out of this lifestyle is death, and I can't stick around and watch that happen. I know it makes me a coward. I know that leaving with my tail between my legs in order to protect myself will only cause the three of us pain, but I trust that the two of you will get through anything. 

I am not yet ready to say goodbye because I don't want this to be the last thing I say to you two. Maybe I just need a chance to breathe. 

Some day, if all the stars align just right, will you meet me under the aurora borealis?

♡ Your Sweetheart, Your Darling, Your Love

* * *

9 hours earlier.

You lay in a heap of black satin, sweat, and cum, struggling to catch your breath. From the other room, water runs and then stops, and footsteps approach, making you smile. 

"Thirsty?" Jeongguk asks.

All you can say in response is a broken hum. You are parched, but the idea of moving your body after what he just put it through feels impossible. 

Jeongguk chuckles, and the bed dips as he asks, "Like your gift that much, huh?"

The birthday present that Jeongguk was so unwilling to allow you to unwrap at your party is a purple, glittery silicone mold of his dick. And although nothing could beat the original, you tore out of your clothes the moment you saw it, eager to try it. 

"One day we'll anal train you so you can take both of my cocks at once," Jeongguk growled in your ear, holding you by the throat while your back bowed and he fucked you cross-eyed with the toy. 

This is not how you expected your day to go after waking up to a fainting spell and visiting Taehyung's basement hospital. After the way you spiraled in Jimin's coma bed, you have not been able to return home and face Yoongi and Namjoon. 

Nor have you been checking your phone. Everything just feels like too much, and if you are not able to drink or do drugs, then you need the next best thing. 

Luckily for you, Jeongguk is more than eager to supply you with all the orgasms you could ever ask for. 

Unfortunately, he is also eager to talk about shit and destroy this perfect distraction. 

"When are you going to head back home?" he asks, flopping down beside you and draping limbs over your body. Your sweat has begun to turn cold, and you roll toward him, seeking warmth.

"I don't know," you respond flatly. 

A tinge of sadness works its way into your lungs, causing you to choke. It is not as if you are doing anything behind anyone's back, but you still feel somewhat guilty. 

Earlier, while at Taehyung's house, Jeongguk asked his hyungs if they wouldn't mind you swinging by his place to open your gift, and based on their grins and winks, they not only knew what it was, but they expected you to want to play. 

Yoongi saying, "Have fun, you two," with a playful little smirk sealed the deal. 

You do not feel guilty for lying in Jeongguk's bed all fucked out and exhausted. Rather, you feel a preemptive guilt for all the things left unsaid, and all there is yet to do. 

Jeongguk sighs and repositions so that his arms are around you, laying on his side and pulling you into him. You close your eyes and let out a deep exhale, and in the silence between breaths, you make a choice. 

"I guess I should go," you mutter. 

Jeongguk grumbles and hugs tighter, and you allow yourself to be held a few moments longer. You really are going to miss this. 

The urge to cry sneaks up, and you take a deep breath and hold it, then begin to wiggle from Jeongguk's arms. There is absolutely no way you are going to allow him to see you cry again. 

Only you cannot help it. You think about Jimin lying in a coma and how you whispered your goodbyes with a kiss to his cheek. 

You think about leaving Jeongguk here in his bed without granting him a proper goodbye. Would it be rude to take the toy cock with you as a souvenir? There is no way you are not going to.

As you detangle your limbs and sit up, tears fall. You tremble and attempt to breathe through it, but Jeongguk is sitting up in a flash, tilting his head to get a look at your face.

"Stop," you warn, holding your hand up as if to block whatever he might say.

"Stop what?" he asks with a concerned tone.

"Don't call attention to it. I don't want to talk about it."

"Doll—"

You sigh and shake your head. "Please. Please don't make me explain myself."

Silence hangs, then he asks, "Are you alright?"

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. 

"No."

"What do you need?"

You shrug. "Taehyung says I need a vacation, so I think I am going to take one."

"And that's why you're crying?"

Although Jeongguk's tone is sympathetic, you fight the urge to smack him. 

"I just have a lot of thoughts and feelings, okay? Is that okay?" 

You do not mean to snap, and you even attempt to chuckle through your words. But your tears must make your conviction seem as weak as it feels because Jeongguk simply watches you with a frown.

"It sucks to admit that I can't handle this," you mutter, worried you may have said too much but finding it impossible to keep everything bottled up.

"So, then…what if a vacation isn't enough?" Jeongguk asks.

You wish he wouldn't ask that. Why is Jeongguk, of all fucking people, so in tune with what you are thinking?

You shrug once more. "Then I guess I have to think of a new plan."

Jeongguk hums and wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"Where will you go?"

Where will you go? Over and over, you have asked yourself this question. But you really have no idea. Wherever Seokjin can send you, you suppose.

"Not sure."

"Alright, well," Jeongguk sighs, "I'll be sure to find you. Wherever you end up…I'll show up."

This makes you chuckle. It is a nice gesture, but it also feels foolish. Jeongguk is not in the position to make such lofty promises, nor would you ever dream of him asking to.

"Jeongguk, what are you talking about?"

"I mean it," he responds, matter-of-factly. "I will find you. You can't just get rid of me, even if you leave the rest of the family behind. I need to be sure that you are okay."

What he says is sweet, but it is too much. You groan and begin to shrug-wiggle out of Jeongguk's hold, then scoot along the bed until you reach the edge and slide off. Your feet hit a soft rug, and you wander around finding your clothing articles, which have been tossed onto the chairs and floor. 

"It's nice of you to say that," you respond, glancing over your shoulder.

Jeongguk sits naked with his legs pretzeled and his back slumped forward, eyes on you with a slight frown tugging his pretty lips. You feel the urge to tip-toe over and kiss the expression from his face, but you hold back, getting dressed instead. 

"Yoongi-hyung won't take it very well if you leave for good," Jeongguk mutters. 

This is not a conversation you want to have, and you take a steady breath before standing straight, doing your best to lie as you say, "I'll try not to leave for good."

* * *

As you walk past Seokjin's mansion, you feel the urge to take a detour and knock on his door. If he weren't such a busy man who likely will not be home at this hour, you would. But instead, you continue toward the mansion.

It is the early evening, but already the sun is setting and you do not want to make your way back in the dark, safe as these paths may be. And you do not want to explain why you are being escorted home by Seokjin, should you find him at his doorstep and talk until it is dark enough that you feel the urge to ask for company. 

The tall trees and shrub walls create deep shadows that appear somewhat menacing in the glow of the property security lights, and it is fucking creepy. Even with the sun still providing hints of light, you grip tightly to the satin ribbon straps of your gift bag and shiver your shoulders up to your ears.

With each step, the leaves and gravel are louder and crunchier than usual. It feels like a mockery the way each sound causes your hair to stand on edge. Especially as you approach your home and realize you have never been granted access to enter on your own. Hard to sneak in when you need to ask permission.

You sigh and pull out your phone, relieved to see that there are no missed calls or texts, and you thumb around to find Yoongi's contact. He picks up on the second ring.

"Hello, darling."

Yoongi's voice is bright and chipper, which is a relief.

"Hey. I'm heading back, and I need to be let inside."

Yoongi chuckles and inhales sharply, then he says, in a voice that is strained in the way a voice gets when someone is talking while holding in their breath, "We're actually outside smoking." He exhales, then adds, "See you in a bit?"

"Oh," you mutter. Now that he mentions it, you do smell the distinct stench of weed, and as you come out of the clearing, you can vaguely make out the shapes of Yoongi and Namjoon standing on the stoop. You smile and say, "Right now, actually."

Yoongi hums, then looks from where he and Namjoon stand in front of the door, to you. Without ending the call, you slide your phone into the pocket of your hoodie—the oversized black one that Jeongguk let you borrow several days ago that you have decided never to return. You smile, feeling a bit of a pep in your step, which falters once you remember what you must do. 

"Darling!" Yoongi calls, holding his arms wide. "Perfect timing. Namjoon and I were craving sushi. Come along?"

Both men wear their standard black uniform, and Yoongi has a black jacket on, as well. Namjoon takes a hit from a joint that is so small, he has to hold it with the very tips of his finger and thumb. As he tilts his head upward and exhales a plume of smoke, Yoongi begins to walk toward you in slow, measured steps. 

"Do I need to change clothes?" you ask because as much as you are hungry, you really do not want to put on a dress. 

Yoongi shrugs, eyes up your stolen hoodie and tight black leggings and shrugs. "If you are comfortable this way, that is fine with me."

You actually expected to have to plead your case, and you are surprised by how amiable Yoongi is. Perhaps he is too hungry to wait for you to change. Or he is starting to calm down about how the public perceives you. 

"Alright," you say, gripping onto the handle of your gift bag. 

Namjoon takes one more hit from the joint and mutters something difficult to hear—you think he asks Yoongi if he wants more of the weed. Yoongi turns to Namjoon and shakes his head, and Namjoon flicks it into the driveway without asking if you want any. You would have said no, anyway.

"Shall we, then?" Yoongi asks, and you nod. 

Namjoon takes a few steps toward Yoongi and kisses him on the side of the head, causing Yoongi to chuckle and turn to Namjoon to press their lips together. Then they speak about something you cannot hear, and Namjoon turns to go into the mansion. 

"He wants to drive your car," Yoongi informs you with a smile. 

The drive into the city is smooth. Namjoon is quiet most of the time, but Yoongi seems to speak at him about this and that—you aren’t really sure. His voice is just hushed enough that it is hard to make out over the soft radio, and you do not strain to listen, enjoying the backseat all to yourself. 

Namjoon drives to a restaurant the three of you have been to before and hands the keys over to the valet attendant. Inside, the hostess bows, then frowns. 

“Oh, mister Min,” she says, glancing around worried. “The private room is occupied at the moment.”

When you turn to Yoongi, there is a hint of a frown on his face, and he squints slightly at the woman. “Occupied?”

The woman nods and drops her gaze down to the wooden hostess podium. 

“My private room is occupied? Interesting.”

The woman looks afraid, eyes scanning around uselessly. She opens her mouth and fumbles around, “I could—we could remove them—I could ask them—“

“A corner booth is fine,” Yoongi says sternly, glancing around the lively, open space. “No windows, please. With a view of the front door.”

“Yes, sir,” The hostess responds, grabbing three menu books with shaking hands. “Right this way, sir.”

“Who has my room?” Yoongi asks before the woman steps away from her podium. 

It is clear that she would ordinarily not give out this kind of information, and she stammers once more, saying, “Y-Yu, sir.”

“Yu?” Yoongi asks, cocking his head. He looks from Namjoon to you, and Namjoon shrugs. 

You only know one person with the name Yu, and it is hard to imagine him dining at a place like this, much less in a room Yoongi keeps on reserve. The last time you saw him, Yoongi had him on his knees at the Han River with a switchblade to his throat. What business would he have here?

The hostess leads the three of you through the restaurant, to a booth in the far corner. Several people look up, and you can hear murmuring as you walk past. You wish you had changed into something a little nicer than a hoodie and leggings, but hold your chin up and follow along. 

The restaurant is just dimly lit enough to feel cozy, but the gold sconces and expensive crystal décor give its opulence away. You can tell this is one of Yoongi's restaurants because the design style is a bit mismatched from what you would expect anywhere else—an amalgamation of comfort and wealth. 

The booth you approach is a horseshoe with a red fabric seat that wraps around a dark wood circular table. Yoongi motions for you to sit first, and you do so, sliding in toward the middle. 

Then he joins you, scooting close and draping his arm over the seat back behind you. Namjoon sits on the other side but keeps some distance, much to your chagrin. 

You understand why Namjoon is distant in public, but you wish it did not have to be this way. It is so nice when the three of you can openly be affectionate. And especially considering this may be the last time the three of you dine…at least, for a while…

Under the table, Yoongi grabs onto your left hand and pulls it onto his lap, pushing his hand into your sweater paw. You glance over the menu, not really paying attention until you feel cold metal on your ring finger and your sleeve getting shoved up to your wrist. 

"You brought it with you?" you tease, glancing at your hand in Yoongi's lap and the giant engagement ring that it sports.

"Just in case," he says, looking at his own menu and rubbing your palm with his thumb. 

It occurs to you that once you do leave, news will undoubtedly spread. Although it may be reasonable to say you are on vacation, how long will that excuse be believable? What will the public whisper about once you are gone for a long time? Especially after Yoongi threw such an extravagant, public birthday party for you, it is hard to imagine the voices won't whisper far and wide. 

Guilt and worry cannot stop you from going through with your plan, and you tell yourself this over and over. No matter how fondly you may feel for these men, you need to stay strong for yourself.

When a server comes by to take everyone's order, you keep your head down. Yoongi and Namjoon confer over items they seem to always get, and you nod along in agreement. 

"Darling?" Yoongi asks when the server leaves, lightly gripping your right thigh and giving it a squeeze. "Something the matter?"

With a shrug, you shake your head and attempt to smile. "I'm just tired, I guess. And stressed about the whole fainting thing."

"Ah, yes," Yoongi responds, thumb rubbing firm circles just above your knee. "Perhaps I should have only ordered one bottle of sake."

"I would like to have a little," you pout. 

Yoongi leans close and presses a kiss against your temple. Instinctively, you close your eyes. 

"As long as you drink more water than alcohol, I will not try to stop you."

Namjoon cuts through the moment, asking, "Did the hostess say someone named Yu was in our room?"

Yoongi sits up tall, looking over you to hum in agreement.

You turn to find Namjoon seated with his arms slung over the back of the booth, somewhat relaxed despite the worried look on his face. He locks eyes with you and asks, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

You are, but there is no plausible way it could be him. Still, you nod. 

"What would he be doing in our room?" he asks. 

Yoongi chuckles. "Yu is not that uncommon of a name."

"He would have had to have convinced the hostess that he knows you," Namjoon says, staring ahead at the table. "Is there anyone on any of our teams who would know to do that?"

"I am certain that there are plenty of people with that name who run drugs or work security," Yoongi responds, sounding bored. "Or who works at one of the hotels, a casino, one of my restaurants. Hell, they might even work at this restaurant. It is not uncommon for people to use my name. Rarely have I managed to catch someone in the act, but I am certain that it must happen all the time."

"I'm surprised you didn't march back there to see who it is," Namjoon somewhat mutters, sending you a wink when you smile at him. 

Yoongi sighs. "I suppose I lack the energy."

Namjoon hums, and you wish Yoongi would elaborate, but you surmise that it may be for the best that he does not. You do worry that perhaps he can sense something is off with your behavior—beyond tiredness and general worry—which, in turn, is worrying him. But the Yoongi you know would come right out and discuss any pressing matters with you, so you brush the thought away.

A server brings two bottles of sake and three tall glasses of water. You reach for a glass of water while Yoongi gets to pouring sake. 

You are shocked that appetizers and entrees are already brought out. Small plates of dumplings, sashimi, and sushi slowly fill the table. And although you have barely eaten all day, you only nibble on a savory pan-fried dumpling while the men eat around you. 

You cannot help but dwell on what Namjoon was saying moments ago, and you are surprised Yoongi is so dismissive of the notion. Your ex has the last name Yu. And if there is anyone on this peninsula who may have a bone to pick with Yoongi, he is likely high on that list. 

That is, if he actually felt some type of way about losing you, which you are not entirely sure could be the case. Things between the two of you had not been great for months—even years—leading up to Yoongi collecting you from him as collateral. 

But there was often talk of reconnecting and building a future together. And although you more or less ignored his ideas, disinterested in the thought of building anything with him, he seemed pretty serious. Could he have continued to love you when the two of you parted?

Although your appetite is subdued by anxiety, you do your best to eat, slowly chewing on a piece of sushi and sipping on sake. Yoongi and Namjoon discuss an upcoming meeting with Seokjin, and you stare at the off-white tablecloth and attempt to gather your thoughts. 

You are reminded of your need to meet with Seokjin. But when would be a good time? How soon would you be able to get out of the mansion?

Each time you reach with your left hand and the diamond glitters in the overhead light, you feel a tinge of sadness. It nearly makes you want to reconsider, but you remind yourself that even if, by some miracle, you and Yoongi and Namjoon are meant to make any of this work out, it needs to be on your terms, after you have had a chance to breathe. 

You consider all the places Seokjin might send you. After all, Busan seems like too much of a gamble. Yoongi and the girls managed to reach an agreement of sorts—but what if sending you there starts an all-out war?

And if your ex truly is suddenly back in the picture—

"Well, well," a man's voice cuts through the conversation between Yoongi and Namjoon and interrupts your thoughts. "What have we here?"

The familiarity of this voice causes an icy chill to cover you. Somehow simultaneously bright and deep, with an accented lilt—it is a voice you heard for years. Still, your mind struggles to reconcile the situation, despite already conspiring over the thought that he might be here tonight. 

Your eyes trail up, confirming that the man standing before the table is, indeed, your ex. Christian looks…different. To put it lightly.

The last time you saw him, his style was kind of basic and not very exciting. He liked light-colored button-ups and ripped jeans, sneakers, and simple, casual clothing, sticking mainly to earth tones. And his dark hair was always trimmed and styled neatly.

But now Christian stands before you with his hair grown, falling over his eyes. He has black eyeshadow covering the entire lid and under each eye, with hints of red glowing from the edges, all smudged together like messy bruises. Little black crosses are drawn on his cheeks, and his lips are blotted with dark, messy red. 

A red button-up shirt and black tie accentuate a black suit with silver pinstripes. The knot of his tie is encased in a gold cover with stars on the front and spikes coming from the sides, and his hands are in black mesh gloves. 

Most curious of all, he is not cowering and afraid. He stands tall and assured, like a completely different person. 

Behind him are four men, all around his height, wearing crisp black suits with white button-up shirts underneath. Covering their heads are black balaclavas that show only their eyes and lips, and their hands are clad in black leather.

"Ah, I see the circus is in town," Yoongi chides with a snarl, sitting up tall. 

Nervous, you look between Yoongi and Namjoon, then back at Christian, who glares down at you with a smirk. 

"Fellas," Christian says, looking at Namjoon before rolling his eyes to glance at Yoongi. "I could not have planned this better if I tried. What are the odds?"

"And was that you in my private room?" Yoongi asks.

Christian's smirk widens into a grin.  

Yoongi sighs, then scoots forward, pushing the plates of food that rest just in front of him to the side. He sits up even higher and plants his elbows on the table, waving his hands slowly as he speaks. "You can see that we are busy, so please just tell me what you want."

Christian's eyes drop to the table as he turns to one of the men behind him and grabs onto a black briefcase. Fear spikes as you imagine a number of terrible things that could happen while he sets it on the edge of the table and opens it. You even notice from the corner of your eye as Namjoon's hand begins to reach behind his back to where you assume he has a handgun stashed. 

But when Christian spins the case, it contains stacks of notes, neatly organized in rows and columns with colorful rubber bands. His eyes lift to you, and he smiles for a split moment. 

Then he says, "I've come to pay off my debt," and his face turns stone-cold serious. 

At this, you scoff. To your right, Yoongi begins to laugh, and to your left, Namjoon scoots forward, sitting up straight. Christian hardly blinks. 

"It's all there," Christian drawls slowly, staring daggers into Yoongi. "I even added some interest."

You turn to Yoongi in time to see him roll his eyes. His hair is tucked behind his ears, and his glare is just as piercing as that of his adversary. 

"You did not really think she would just go back to you, did you?" he asks. 

"You don't really think I'm asking, do you?" Christian responds.

At this, you click your tongue against your teeth. "Excuse me?"

Christian leans with his fists against the table, somewhat leveling his eyes with yours despite looming much taller. "I know these thugs likely gaslit you into thinking that their exorbitant amounts of money were a replacement for love. I bet they stockholm-syndrome'd you real good after kidnapping you last spring. But with therapy and different lifestyle choices, you can return to the woman you were before all of that happened to you."

This infuriates you. For one thing, how dare this man show up out of nowhere and so grossly define a relationship that has grown over months and become something that has made you actually believe in love. 

For another thing, how fucking dare he not be entirely wrong. 

It occurs to you that this could be your way out. But going back into Christian's arms does not feel like the correct choice. You were unhappy in that relationship and coasting along before Yoongi and his men swept you away, so to speak. 

Sure, you allowed him to take you out to nice restaurants and buy every little designer thing the two of you desired. But that just makes that relationship as loveless and empty as he is trying to accuse your current relationship of being. 

Not to mention, this man who stands before you is not your ex-boyfriend, as you knew him. He looks and carries himself in a way that is almost unrecognizable.

"Don't you fucking dare," you say almost under your breath. 

Christian does not break eye contact, and you hate the way sadness yanks at his expression in a soft, familiar way. 

"Come on, baby," he pleads. "You don't have to pretend to be happy anymore. I saw how uncomfortable you looked at your birthday party. And when you disappeared for a long time and came back all pale and zoned out…something was clearly wrong. We can get you the help you need."

Anxiety and frustration spikes. You almost feel ashamed when you ask, "You were there?"

It is eerie the way Christian regards you so calmly. Gone is the nervous man who dragged you along hotel hallways trying to escape. However, the way he looks at you has only changed into something sweeter. It is as if he truly has continued to love you in your absence. 

"Look, whatever you've been through," Christian continues, eyebrows knit and pleading, "you don't have to tell me. I won't ask questions. Let me just…get you out of here. Please."

Yoongi sighs and drops his chin onto his hands. When you turn to him, you watch him shrug, lift a brow to you, and say, "You know that you are free to go if that is the life you want. Nobody is shackling you here."

And although you understand what Yoongi is doing—although you want more than anything to run far away—the way in which Yoongi appears so bored and unconcerned only causes your anger to grow.

Your jaw twitches to the side, and you run the tip of your tongue between your teeth, feeling every groove of bone. This should be an easy choice, but you feel paralyzed by indecision.

With a sigh, you blink Christian into focus. He looks so hopeful, it nearly tugs at your heartstrings. Nearly.

"You can see that we are eating, Christian," you insist. "Please don't force us to call security."

Christian scoffs and stands up straight. The men behind him are stiff as boards. 

"You're causing a scene," you continue, voice flat and insincere. "I don't like to think that the other guests are uncomfortable with this display. We can discuss this in a more private setting."

Something like hope flashes in Christian's eyes, and you hate the way it makes your tummy swoop. His mesh-gloved hands fidget before he shoves them into the pockets of his pinstripe slacks. 

"Can I have your number?" he asks, voice lilted with excitement.

Your voice remains flat. "No. I can find you."

With a confused twitch of his features, Christian mutters, "B-but…how?"

"Make it easy for me," you respond with a shrug.

After all, you know Christian's name, what usernames he has used online, and so many other intimate details. If you really did want to find him, you easily could.

"Alright," Christian says, nodding. He takes a step back, causing the small group of men to do the same.

"Take the money," you say, watching him intently, unwilling to break eye contact in a show of dominance. "We'll settle this matter privately."

Christian nods, reaches for the briefcase, and snaps the clasps closed. "I hope to hear from you soon," he says, gaze lingering before he turns to walk off.

As you watch the small group of men clad in all black disappear through the front entrance of the restaurant, your mind struggles to comprehend anything that has just occurred. 

What are the odds that Christian just so happened to be at this restaurant? There is no way it could be a coincidence. 

A warm hand rubs over the small of your back, and you flinch, muttering, "Fuck," under your breath. Namjoon sits forward and continues to eat, and with one hand caressing you, Yoongi does the same. 

"My appetite is ruined," you state plainly, eyes on the front door. You half expect your ex to come walking back in to continue to plead for you to leave with him. 

Yoongi hums and Namjoon is silent, save for chewing. You feel like you are going insane.

How is it that Christian has managed to keep tabs on you? What was he doing at your birthday party? You rack your mind trying to place him there—could you have run into him? Would you have known? What if he was one of the gold-clad workers hiding in plain sight, watching your every move? 

What if he has been lurking even longer, watching you at Paradise? At House of Cards? How much has he seen?

"I'm shocked he managed to come up with the cash," Namjoon finally mutters as he fills everyone's glass with sake.

Without waiting for the others, you pick up your small glass and shoot the liquid back. Then you set the glass down, reach for your water, and take a nice big gulp. The water is cold and you feel it work its way down into your body, causing a chill to run along your spine. 

"Should have castrated him like I promised," Yoongi jokes dryly. 

Your stomach churns, made worse by how nobody seems all that concerned about how you must be feeling. Neither of them brings up the fact that you promised to look him up, even as a means to pick on you.

"How did he get into my party?" you ask, voice as flat as it had been before. 

"Maybe he's managed to weasel his way back onto one of the teams," Namjoon responds with a full mouth.

"Would have had to have been after Jeongguk stepped down," Yoongi adds. "Unless he has one of the hospitality positions."

"Maybe he works at the hotel," Namjoon says.

You sigh, fed up with this conversation. 

"Did you not keep tabs on him?" you ask, turning to Yoongi with an accusatory glare. If this is anyone's fault, it has to be his. 

Yoongi blinks, then shrugs. "People go off the map all the time. He could have changed his name, for all we know. Maybe he uses a Korean name to get work."

You hum and sit back, slouched uncomfortably against the booth. Yoongi removes his hand from your back and continues to eat, using his newly free hand to lift his small glass of sake to his lips.

There is a chance Christian goes by the name Barom. It is a name only his mother calls him on occasion, but you would not put it past him to use it on identification cards, especially as a means to slip under the radar. 

That could explain his disappearing act, if there ever was one. But Yoongi's team should have noticed. Or, perhaps, Seokjin already has. In fact, you become convinced that Seokjin must know something. It is the only circumstance that makes sense. 

Seokjin must have overheard Yoongi and Namjoon discussing coming here tonight and he tipped Christian off. Maybe he thinks this is a good way for you to make a break for it. Maybe it is all a setup and Christian no longer wants anything to do with you but he is playing some part you do not fully understand.

But if that is the case, why wouldn't Seokjin tell you? 

You sit in silence for the rest of the meal, refusing more food and drink with a wave of your hand and a shake of your head. Namjoon goes ahead to retrieve your car from the valet attendant, and Yoongi pulls the hostess aside to inquire more about Christian's appearance while you stand near the front door, scowling out into the evening. 

The moment Namjoon slips behind the wheel of your car, you shove the restaurant door open and stomp up to the back door with a huff, opting not to respond when Namjoon looks back at you in the rearview mirror and asks, "Do you want to talk about anything?"

Yoongi gets into the passenger seat, mutters, "She was just as stumped as we were," and with that, the three of you are off. 

You pull your phone from your pocket and open instagram, type the username ChristianYu, and turn up with nothing. After a pause, you consider he may be using his Korean name, so you search for BaromYu and find him. Although he has not posted a lot since the last time you visited his account months and months ago, all of his posts show a transition from the man you knew to the man you met today. 

In his photos, he is shirtless more often than not, showing off his many new tattoos and accessories. And in the comments, people fawn over him, writing embarrassingly lewd confessions and using a lot of tongue and water drop emoji. 

Nothing hints at what he could be doing for work, but his follower count has exploded—he is quite the popular man. He never posts his location, nor does he make vague references to any kind of job in any of his posts or responses, and nobody seems to care about much but his face and body.

The only thing that may pass as a hint of any sort is the fact that some commenters call him Mister Insanity. But what that could possibly mean, you have no idea. He did seem to have a small group of goons, but it is hard to imagine him as the leader of anything. 

Namjoon pulls into the driveway, and you turn off your phone screen. You are not going to rest until you speak to Seokjin, and you hope that he is home at this hour. 

You grab the gift bag that has Jeongguk's dick dildo in it from where it had been left behind the passenger seat, and then get out of the car, shoving the bag into Yoongi's hands. 

"Take this inside," you say, turning toward the dark path that connects the properties. "I need to talk to Seokjin."

"Seokjin?" Yoongi asks. "He might not be free at this hour."

"I'll go find out," you insist, turning away before Yoongi or Namjoon can stop you. To your surprise, neither of them tries to follow behind. 

Once you are on the path that leads between driveways, you unlock your phone and search for a name you have never called before, and then you call him. It rings and rings, taunting you with its robotic tone before going to voicemail. This is Seokjin. Leave a message. You hang up.

Each footfall stomps harder than the last as you march on, feeling small amongst the tall shadows. The cooling night air sends a chill through you—all the more reason to walk even faster. 

There is a light on in one of the second-floor windows, and you storm up to the front door and press frantically on the doorbell. Of course, the door is reinforced enough that even if someone were to be running to the door on the other side, you would have no way of hearing it. 

However, you do not take Seokjin for being the type to run. 

Still, you feel impatient, and you take to pounding your fist against the door, feeling the impact of armored wood against the side of your hand, hard and visceral—stinging. When the door finally flies open, you pay no mind to the gun pointed at your forehead, fist still in the air. 

Seokjin stands shirtless in a pair of black silk pants, and the moment he recognizes you, he sighs and drops the gun to his side, muttering, "Good fucking god."

"We need to talk," you insist, stepping through the threshold despite not being invited to do so.

"I was in the middle of something," Seokjin says, stepping aside. 

You kick out of your shoes as he closes the door calmly behind you, and you allow yourself a brief moment to take in his appearance—hair disheveled, body covered in sweat. Seokjin turns and lifts a hand, silently encouraging you to enter further into the home, and you notice scratch marks along his arms and a sliver of his back—deep pink and raised. 

"So you were," you respond. 

Seokjin sighs and walks toward his staircase, showing off even more long, deep scratch marks. "Give me a moment; I need to tend to something. Help yourself to a drink if you would like."

You walk through the living room and turn the corner to the conjoined dining area and kitchen. Seokjin and Hoseok keep a tidy home, and you marvel at the rich woods and antique furnishings. Their refrigerator is a massive black appliance, and you pull the rightmost door open and notice a healthy store of plastic food containers, fresh fruits and vegetables, and bottles of soju.

Helping yourself to a bottle of clear, unflavored soju, you close the fridge door and crack the lid open, forgoing a glass. One sip is cold enough to send a shiver through you, and you gulp more, eager to calm your nerves before remembering once more that Taehyung has advised you against drinking. 

Footsteps retreat down the stairs, and you find Seokjin pulling a black t-shirt over his head. Seeing him dressed down is somewhat surprising, and although you were too on edge to take note of his broad, muscular build moments ago, you notice him now. 

The suits and dress shirts Seokjin wears cover a lot. Although he is leaner than Namjoon, his arms are defined, flexing as he adjusts his garment and reaches into his silk pants pocket to pull out his phone. 

"Is this about Barom?" Seokjin asks, fixing you with a gaze that gives away absolutely nothing. 

You take another gulp of soju, then let both arms hang at your sides, limp and defeated. "So you did put him up to it?"

"Oh?" Seokjin asks, raising an eyebrow. "You mean to say you detected my involvement?"

"I had a hunch," you mutter, frustrated.

"I knew you were smart enough to catch on," Seokjin says as he crosses his arms over his chest, shoulders and biceps flexing. He watches you with just as blank of an expression, not giving you a chance to respond before saying, "He works for me now."

You wish you were surprised. "Doing what?"

Seokjin cracks a smirk. "Whatever I need him to."

You sigh and take another drink of the soju, letting it settle on your tongue. When Seokjin gives you no further information, you raise your own fucking eyebrows—two can play at this game. 

"Seokjin, why did my ex show up to dinner with a briefcase of cash offering to buy my freedom?"

"Did he?" Seokjin asks, voice elated and surprised. 

You roll your eyes. "I know you put him up to it. Drop the act."

"You are far more clever than any of these men give you credit for," Seokjin says. "But not me. I never doubted you."

You sigh, feeling impatient. "Seokjin—"

"Did seeing your ex make you want to run away?" Seokjin asks. 

You hate to admit that the answer is yes, and you hum and nod just once. 

"So?" he asks. "Will you?"

"Taehyung says I need a vacation," you respond stubbornly. 

"Well, have you begun to pack a bag? I hear Busan is very chilly this time of year, so you will want to be sure to include some heavy clothes."

"No," you mutter. "I have been busy tending to other matters." Seokjin's mouth opens and he gives you a curious gaze, but you cut him off, adding, "And Yoongi is so on edge, I'm not sure leaving right now would be wise."

Seokjin hums. "I think he's especially on edge today because he proposed to you last night and you had a panic attack."

His flat, matter-of-fact tone makes you laugh. It rocks through your chest before you can stop yourself, and you shake your head, allowing the laughter to fall. 

"What does he fucking expect?" you mutter. "He knows how miserable I am in his mansion. How was I supposed to react to a proposal? If he has any concern about the way I feel, he should not have done something like that."

"Yes, I agree," Seokjin responds as he approaches and reaches for the bottle of soju. You lift your arm to hand it to him. 

The cap is still cradled in your opposite hand, and you turn and find an antique side table made from some dark, polished wood to set it down onto. When you return to face Seokjin, he holds the bottle toward you, which you take. 

"Yoongi took the more recent attacks much more personally than usual," he says with a sigh. 

You lift the bottle to your lips, mutter, "Go on," and take a drink. 

"He doesn't care for the way the girls acted, and the harm that their attacks have caused seems to have pushed him over the edge. Ordinarily, Yoongi would have sent a swarm of men to apprehend or even kill them for what they have done, but I have a feeling he held back because you are here, now."

"I'm holding him back?" you ask, feeling a misplaced tinge of guilt. After all, why should you care? 

Finally, Seokjin cracks just a hint of a smile, and you hate the way it makes you feel. You know that he knows far more than he says. 

"Or, perhaps I'm misreading the situation," Seokjin responds, smile growing. "I was simply picking your brain…friendly banter about what I assume you think is going on, and nothing more."

Unbelievable.

"Okay," you respond, voice trembling from frustration. "Then what is going on?"

"Yoongi gifted Serendipity to Ryujin's little hoard of women, as a peace offering to get them to back off. You are aware of this, yes?"

You stare blankly at Seokjin and take in his words, then mutter, "Yes."

"Seems Ryujin needed someone to help her look after the place, so I set her up with some men. Barom being one of them. I had plans to send him to another port city to work at my newest casino, but he really thrives in the club atmosphere. You should see him—under the right conditions, he can be a very loyal, hard worker." Seokjin says.

You heavy-blink, taking everything in.

Seokjin continues. "Listen, I would have warned you about his appearance, but I felt like your response to seeing him should be genuine. Yoongi may be distracted these days, but if your reaction was in any way staged, Namjoon would have caught on in an instant."

Although it makes sense, it does nothing to assuage your frustration. With a sigh, you mutter, "Figures."

"Pack a bag sooner than later," Seokjin says through a sigh of his own. "Text me when you are ready, and I will do my best to come quickly, but if I happen to be in the middle of a task, you will need to exhibit a little more…" Seokjin lifts his eyebrows, cracking a smile, "...patience."

You roll your eyes and nod, accepting his terms. Seokjin reaches for the bottle, and you hand it over, muttering, "You can finish it."

"Need me to walk you back?" Seokjin offers.

As much as you would like to have some company, you shake your head. "Thanks, anyway."

You feel somewhat dazed as you make your way back to the door and slip into your sneakers. Seokjin having a hand in Christian's presence leaves a sour taste in your mouth, despite you expecting it to be the case, and you wonder how trustworthy of an employee he is to Yoongi if he is pulling so many strings behind the scenes. 

A thought occurs, tickling at the back of your mind, and you turn, finding Seokjin standing right where you left him, watching you.

"Did Hyunjin and his family really die?" you ask. 

Seokjin stares at you unblinking. Then he lifts the bottle to his lips and mutters, "They're safe in America."

Anger rises, and you close your eyes, taking a deep breath in through your nose. The fact that Hyunjin's faked death may have aided in pushing Yoongi into a heroin relapse is absolutely infuriating. What would have happened if Yoongi overdosed in that hotel in Paris?

You squint at Seokjin, thinking of the many ways to verbally rip him to shreds. But you need to keep him on your good side, at least for the time being, so you put away your teeth. 

"Seems we both have something we do not want him to know about," you say, holding your chin up as if challenging him. 

Seokjin raises an eyebrow, mouth tugging into a smile as he says, "Seems we do."

You have no more to say, and you storm toward the door, kicking into your shoes. Seokjin says nothing as you leave, and for that, you are thankful. You yank on the door hard enough to make it rattle shut, then storm off into the night.

Tears stream down your cheeks in fat, hot streaks as you return to the mansion. You are not sad, but you just feel an overflow of emotion that seems to only come out in the form of crying and trembling. Seokjin makes you so fucking angry, yet you need him in order to make your escape—which you do your best not to dwell on, at the present moment. 

Although you are glad to see your men standing on the front stoop smoking a joint and saving you the trouble of asking to be let inside, you are not eager to explain what is the matter. You are not sure you are a convincing actor with a straight face, much less in this state.

You attempt to sneak past them before either of them can see you crying, but Namjoon is quick to reach for your hand and tug you close. You bury your face against his chest and sigh, trying to come up with what to say to excuse your crying.

"Sweetheart?" he asks, causing your emotions to boil over.

"Everything is too much," you mutter, unsure what else to say. "I might go to bed early."

Namjoon wraps his arms around your shoulders and hugs you tight. More tears fall, and you are glad when he does not address them. Instead, he kisses you on the top of the head and asks, "Want to sit down and have some water?"

With a nod, you take a step back and allow yourself to be led into the mansion. You kick out of your shoes as Namjoon does, hobbling from side to side with his arm slung over your shoulder. Then he guides you over to the large blue sofa, which you sit against and curl into a ball.

"I need a vacation," you groan into the soft fabric, squeezing your eyes closed.

"Is that what you went to talk to Seokjin about?" Namjoon asks. 

You groan and nod, curling further in on yourself. More tears pool in your eyes and you feel the urge to sob, but your body does not have the energy to exert. 

This is the final straw. The dizzy spells are too numerous, and seeing your ex has stirred up so many shitty, complicated feelings. You need a chance to breathe.

"Here, darling, drink this."

A warm hand gently tugs at your shoulder, and you comply, rotating and sliding your feet to the floor. Yoongi is perched on the edge of the couch, holding a large cup of water. You stretch your legs and reach for the cup.

The water is tepid, and it feels nice. Yoongi must think you are having another dizzy spell, and he reaches for your forehead, pressing his fingers to the skin. 

"The sake must have been too much," he says.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. 

"It's not just that," you mutter. "It's everything. I need to get away for a bit."

Yoongi nods in understanding, looking to Namjoon and then to you, asking, "Is it because of Christian?"

"He is certainly a straw that is breaking my back," you admit.

Yoongi frowns, but he appears comfortable with your choice. "Where would you go?"

"Somewhere calm," you say with a shrug. "By the sea, perhaps."

"I could oversee a trip," Namjoon recommends. "Somewhere else, entirely."

You do not have the heart to tell Namjoon that you would rather go alone, so instead, you nod and mutter, "Maybe."

There is knocking on the door, and you look up expectantly. Before either of the men can so much as move, the knob turns, and Taehyung walks in.

"Guess they'll let just anyone in here," you tease weakly as Taehyung kicks off a pair of loafers with the heels bent forward and crosses the room in quick, elongated steps. 

Taehyung kneels in front of you and digs into the pocket of his slacks, producing a little paper box. "I hope you don't mind, I have come to talk to you about medication. The hyungs said you would be home."

You shrug and eye up the white box, muttering, "I don't mind."

"This medication treats high blood pressure, and it may help with what ails you. Are you comfortable with trying something new?"

"Sure." 

Yoongi takes your glass of water as Taehyung hands over the box, and you clench the fragile paper square while he opens the small flap on the top, producing a tiny matte white compostable packet with a lump in the center where the pill is. 

"Take this once every evening, for now. We can track how it works, if at all, and go from there." Taehyung rips open the packet and prises one of your hands off the box, then he drops a round, white pill into your palm. "Try to avoid taking burupen, if possible. And, depending on which birth control you use, we may need to increase the dosage."

This information is overwhelming, but you nod. Once you do run away, the two of you will no longer be able to sort any of this out, so for now, you simply agree in order to appease him. 

Sadness quakes through you as you toss the bitter pill into your mouth and take a large gulp of water, shoving the cup back into Yoongi's waiting hands. You even struggle to swallow, feeling the urge to cry. 

Taehyung has been so kind to you. You wish you could adequately express your gratitude to him before you go. You wonder if you will ever see him again.

"Thank you," you mutter. Blinking back tears. "For everything."

Taehyung grins. "No need to thank me. It is my job to care for you." He finishes his sentence with a wink, causing you to sneer. Through laughter, he adds, "I also do so because I like you."

You close your eyes and sigh, doing your best to smile as you attempt to sort your thoughts. You need to pack a suitcase, but the prospect of making that sort of plan is overwhelming. You wish everyone would leave.

"I think I may go lay down," you say, opening your eyes to find Yoongi and Namjoon regarding you with soft, understanding frowns. You add, "In my room," causing their frowns to deepen. "I think I just need some alone time. But I'll come join you two if I get lonely."

Yoongi scoots beside you and wraps an arm around your waist. His musk is calming and familiar, tugging at your heart. 

"Sounds good, darling," he says as he leans in and places a soft, lingering kiss on your temple. "You know where to find us."

Every ounce of you pulls to Yoongi, yearning to touch him. You want to embrace and kiss and undress him so badly. But you know that if you fall into bed with him and Namjoon once more, you will not have the heart to go. And one simple kiss could ruin everything. 

As you stand, Yoongi slides his arm away. Namjoon steps close and leans in for a kiss. For a split second, you consider turning your lips away, but Namjoon wraps his arms around you, pinning your arms to your side as your hands continue to hold the small paper pill box between your chests. 

"I love you," he mutters as his lips press softly against yours. 

You have to hold back the urge to sob, swallowing hard. "I lo—" You clear your throat. "I love you, too."

As Namjoon backs away, he watches you with a hint of something indiscernible in his eyes. You almost wish he would confront you rather than allow you to slip away. Could he possibly know anything? Or are you just being paranoid?

With a bow of your head, you walk past Namjoon, to the stairwell. You take each step slowly, feeling the cold marble beneath your feet. At the thought of how much you hated this garish mansion the first day you arrived—impressed by its ridiculousness but fettered like a prisoner—you snicker, and you feel a tinge of sadness.

So much has changed, and, yet, so much of who you are feels the same. 

At the top of the stairs, you shuffle quickly into your room and close the door. You hurry to the closet and flick on the light, relieved to see a large black suitcase sitting in the back, to the left of the tall mirror. 

It is hard to remember what you came into the mansion with, but you do your best to pack only your own items and leave the rest behind. You do not deserve the designer clothing and jewelry they have given you. How can you bear to wear any of it, knowing the pain you will inevitably cause these men?

The process happens as you somewhat dissociate your feelings from the task. You do your best not to think about where anything came from—under which circumstances you received a gift as you leave it where it is. 

In fact, you do your best to refrain from thinking at all, moving from room to room, gathering your things. Sun dresses, leggings, and a couple pairs of denim jeans fill the suitcase, along with several pairs of shoes, toiletries, cardboard pill boxes, and your sex toys. 

Some of what you leave behind is designer clothing Christian bought you, but you are not concerned. You do not want to continue being the kind of person who is swept up in luxury. You never needed any of it.

Amongst the many miscellaneous items you find in the bedroom is a notebook and pen pouch nestled on the bookshelf. Without giving it any thought, you begin to pen a letter to Namjoon–because he has always been the best at talking through difficult times—and then to Yoongi, and then to the both of them, filling a single page, which you do your best not to let any wayward tears drip onto when you realize you have begun to cry. 

In this letter, you pour your heart out, you apologize for having to leave, and then you end on a high note, telling yourself that it may be possible that you could one day see them again, despite knowing deep down that this is likely not the truth. 

You fold the letter into a neat rectangle and walk with it to the closet, placing it in the center of the island and shutting off the closet light for the last time, then you stand in the center of the bedroom and look around, making sure you have everything. 

Once the entire task is as complete as you can fathom it being, you return to the bed and sit on the edge. You consider waiting an hour or two before messaging Seokjin, hoping it may give the guys a chance to wind down and sleep, but you find you are too antsy.

You: I have packed a bag. I am not sure what I want to come from telling you this information except to say that I am ready whenever the time is right.

Your thumb hovers and shakes and it takes you several seconds to hit send. You are shocked when three little dots pop up mere seconds later. 

Seokjin: Tonight? Or sometime in the next few days?

Anxiety swells in your tummy, and you sigh.

You: Might be best to just rip off the bandage, so to speak.

Seokjin: I agree. In terms of timing, I can have a plane ready in two hours, but I know damn well the men will not be asleep by then. We have a meeting planned at 8 in the morning, which means they will likely be awake between 6 and 7, so 4 is going to be our sweet spot. Can you stay awake?

Although you feel exhausted, you are certain that this may be your only chance.

You: I can stay awake.

Seokjin: Also, your suitcase…can you get it down the stairs? Are you aware of the basement exit?

You: I should be able to handle it. And yes, I am aware. 

Seokjin: I recommend trying to sneak down as early as 3. If you need some kind of a diversion, I can do my best to come up with something.

You: Sounds good. Thank you.

Seokjin: Thank me when we're on the tarmac.

With just under five hours to spare, you sit and stare at the yellow comforter on the bed. Soon, you will be sleeping under a different comforter on someone else's bed. 

At this thought, you begin to spiral. You think of all the beds you have slept in, attempting to figure out whether any of them have ever been yours. 

No, you think. Not really.

The weight of discovering another unfamiliar room and attempting to make it your home feels crushing. You wish that you could stay in the place you have felt most settled, but you know in your heart that this place has also caused you the most anguish. 

You are not a mafia wife. You do not want to be one. 

A soft knock causes you to gasp and flinch, and you place your cell phone facedown at your side. After a beat, you realize that it is Namjoon on the other side, as he tends to wait to be invited to come in.

"Yes?" you ask softly, rubbing at your eyes with your fists in order to appear tired.

The door cracks open, followed by Namjoon's tuft of dark hair and a sad smile. He hovers in the liminal space between out there and in here, and the mere presence of him makes you relax a little.

"I was wondering if perhaps a nice warm bath would make you feel better," he says, brows downturned as if he is expecting you to say no. 

But how could you say no? 

This room is cold and lonely, and Namjoon is offering you warmth. Perhaps it is selfish to take this one last moment of comfort, but if there is anything you want to remember him by, it is his ability to ease your weary soul.

"A warm bath sounds perfect," you say. His smile widens, and in turn, so does yours.

"Good," he says, standing straight and stepping halfway into the room. Namjoon wears nothing but tight dark blue briefs, and the sight of his muscular, tattooed body makes your mouth begin to water. He adds, "I've already begun drawing the bath," snapping your wandering gaze from his thighs back to his grinning face.

You leave your phone behind and slide from the mattress, bare feet meeting soft rug. Namjoon holds his hand out and you reach for it, giggling as he tugs you somewhat roughly, forcing you to stumble into him. 

"I've missed you today," he groans as he bends and captures your lips, filling you with excitement. 

"I've missed you, too," you mutter as your mouth falls open for his tongue to explore. 

Namjoon teases, dancing his tongue over yours just enough to make you moan, then retracting it to say, "You sure Gguk didn't wear you out?"

You can hardly hold back the grin that overtakes your face, and you raise your eyebrows, leaning your head back enough to look him in the eyes as you ask, "Awe, is my Joonbug jealous?"

Namjoon scoffs and rolls his eyes, then he turns toward the master bedroom, yanking on your hand to make you follow along. You do your best not to dwell on how limited your time is in the mansion now that you and Seokjin have a plan. 

As you shuffle along behind Namjoon, half-running to keep up with his quick pace, you hear the sound of the jacuzzi tub. The bedroom is empty of Yoongi, and you are not surprised when you are yanked into the ensuite and find him reclining in the tub with the bubbling water sloshing over his chest. 

Namjoon lets go of your hand and peels out of his briefs, and you struggle to resist reaching out to give his perky buttcheeks a squeeze. You shed the hoodie and undershirt in one swift motion, and your leggings and underwear in another, then prance over to the tub, where Namjoon is slowly getting in on Yoongi's right. 

Yoongi lifts and turns his head, opening his eyes and cracking a smile as you approach the tub on his left, across from Namjoon. And although you attempt to take in all of his appearance, your gaze goes straight to the slash that runs through Yoongi's eye, still as red and angry as ever—evidence of your carelessness.

"Ah, her highness joins us," he announces before closing his eyes and returning his head to the rested position against the edge of the tub. The sound of the faucet and sloshing water is almost enough to conceal Yoongi's low tones, but somehow you make out each muttered syllable perfectly. 

"Namjoon does tend to be quite persuasive," you respond with a smile, lifting your gaze to Namjoon, whose eyes intently rove your naked body as you step one foot into the tub and then the other, lowering slowly to acclimate to the heat. 

Yoongi cracks a knowing smile—a sharp little thing that verges on a smirk—and he chides with a pouty, "Ah, so it was only the promise of Namjoon that brought you in here, tonight?"

Rather than humor him with words, you walk to Yoongi and straddle his lap, slinging your arms around his neck before he has a chance to open his eyes. Two large hands touch your lower back as Yoongi smiles up at you.

"Don't be ridiculous," you mutter as you lean in for a kiss, swiftly stealing his ability to argue.

Despite knowing you should not straddle Yoongi and invite a world of possibilities that will only make the act of leaving more difficult, you find it impossible to stop yourself. Yoongi pulls you close, groaning past your lips. As you settle onto his lap, breasts buoyant and pressed against his chest, you decide to try and forget about your plan. At least for a few hours.

"So much for a relaxing bath," Yoongi teases, lips grazing against yours. 

You smile coyly, eyes watching his mouth—your faces too close to see anything else. "What do you mean?"

Yoongi's hands, which rub over your lower back and firmly grab your ass, yank and squeeze, causing your tummy to meet with a growing erection. You gasp despite expecting as much, and chuckle. 

"We don't have to—" you begin, ready to assure Yoongi that you are more than happy to stay in the tub for as long as he would like.

"Oh, but we do," he insists as he begins to push you off his lap and stand. 

Namjoon chuckles, and you turn to him, still in a somewhat crouched position, chest-high in the water. You lift an eyebrow in a silent question. 

"The tub never finished filling," Namjoon says, cocking his head to the side, to where the tap continues to flow across from where Yoongi was sitting. 

You begin to laugh, as well. Yoongi, however, has a sense of urgency, toweling himself off with one hand while he reaches into the water to take you by the arm and yank. You are surprised, but comply, standing and walking to the edge of the tub to step out onto a soft mat, water pouring from your limbs. 

Yoongi shoves his damp towel into your arms, and when you stand dumbfounded for a second too long, he sighs, takes it from you, and begins to towel you dry in the most rushed, haphazard way possible before discarding it to the floor. He takes you by the hand and pulls you toward the bed, and you hear the tub get shut off and the sound of water pouring from Namjoon as he stands up and exits, as well. 

Rather than urge you onto the bed, Yoongi simply steps behind you, shoves you forward so that you are draped over the edge of it, and drops to his knees. You open your mouth to pick fun at his impatience, but his palms spread your ass, and his mouth closes over your cunt, lips and tongue making sloppy work as you widen your stance and bend over a little more.

You moan and shudder as pleasure works through you, more and more each time Yoongi's lips and tongue become increasingly precise in their movements over your clit. You instantly relax, and, as you feared, begin to forget all about why you plan to leave. 

Yoongi abruptly stops, smacks your ass, and tells you to get up onto the bed, on your hands and knees. You do as you are told, and Yoongi also gets on the bed, positions the pillows so he can sit against them, and stretches his legs. He pats his thighs and says, "Come here."

As you crawl to Yoongi, eyes intent on his fist stroking his semi-hard cock, the bed dips behind you, and two hands firmly grab your hips before you can get too far. It is clear that your instruction is to suck Yoongi's cock while Namjoon eats you out, and as you lean forward to tease Yoongi with your tongue, Namjoon's mouth begins to devour your ass. 

It is dizzying the way the three of you fall into a tangled rhythm of pleasure. Dizzying the way you make Yoongi reach his first climax at the same time Namjoon makes you reach yours. 

Namjoon fingers you deeply, thumb on your clit while his lips and tongue work over your asshole, and you are shocked by the intensity of your orgasm like this—how the pleasure feels somehow different with the added stimulation. 

"One of these days, I want you to take both of our cocks at once," Namjoon groans against you while his teeth rake over the swell of your ass cheek. 

You have to hold back a laugh, curious what the hell must be in the water to make every man you fuck want to double-penetrate you. And although you think it would be funny to put Jeongguk's earlier suggestion on blast, you decide to keep it to yourself.

Namjoon yanks and tugs you until you are beside Yoongi on your back, with your legs spread wide. He fucks you hard and deep, and you muffle your screams against his shoulder as he leans forward and sucks on Yoongi's cock. 

It takes no time for another orgasm to crash over you, and you are painted in hot streaks of Namjoon's cum before the two men swap places, and Yoongi crawls between your legs. 

He leans close, tickling you with the tips of his dark, long hair as it brushes against your tummy and thighs while he laps up each drop of Namjoon's release like a good little dog. Then he sits high on his knees and wastes no time spearing you nice and deep. 

Namjoon kneels beside you and pulls your hands above your head, holding both of your wrists in one of his hands while the other lightly smacks and pinches the skin on your arms and chest, causing you to squeal and scream and chase two very intense orgasms. 

When Yoongi finishes, it is in Namjoon's mouth, and then the two of them mutter about taking a proper shower while you begin to drift in and out of sleep. 

You nearly doze off completely when the sound of a loud pop, followed by a bright light and a loud bang, startles you awake. Suddenly, you are far too aware of your surroundings, but you have no idea what time it is. 

In a panic, you sit up and yank the cold comforter you had been lying on top of until part of it covers your sweaty, naked body. There are more loud bangs and bright lights, and Namjoon is the first to point out that it is fireworks that are being shot off directly at the window, from the other side of the property's security gate. 

Yoongi storms over to the window, still nude, and pulls back the curtain a sliver. Namjoon leans forward and also peers out. 

"Looks like those goons from the restaurant," Namjoon says, causing your heart to pound. 

Is Christian behind whatever this strange display is? And if so, did Seokjin put him up to this?

"Mister Min, are you in there?" a voice booms over a speaker, and it sounds just like Christian—as expected. In a creepy, sing-song manner, he adds, "Come out and plaaayyy."

"Darling," Yoongi says, turning to you. "Do you know about the basement?"

You nod frantically and begin to move, inching toward the edge of the bed. Yoongi's cell phone rings on the bedside table opposite where you sit, and Yoongi rushes over and answers it simply by saying, "Seokjin."

There is a pause, and then Yoongi says, "Sounds good," and hangs up. Then he turns to Namjoon and says, "Seokjin and Hoseok are on their way." To you, he adds, "Seokjin will meet you in the basement. Get dressed and go quickly."

All at once, you throw the comforter to the side and begin making your way to the bathroom, where your clothing has been discarded, deciding that this is your getaway outfit since everything else is packed into a suitcase, and you are not going to leave in a rush wearing an evening gown. 

As you hop into your underwear and leggings, Namjoon appears, naked and with a frown on his face. He pulls you into a tight hug, kisses your forehead, and says, "This is not the way I wanted to see you off for that much needed trip. I will find you soon, alright?"

You nod, feeling tears well up, and you allow them to fall, suddenly so overwhelmed with the thought that you will likely not see Namjoon again. At least, not for a while. 

Namjoon thumbs tears from below your eyes and smiles sweetly before placing another kiss on your forehead. Behind him, Yoongi appears wearing a black sweater tucked into black joggers, and he pulls you into a hug that has you stumbling and crashing into him. 

"I'm so sorry," he says with his lips to your temple. "I know this must be scary, but we will take care of everything. Pack a bag if you can, but do not spend too long on it. We can send for more of your things once Seokjin helps you settle in somewhere."

Unable to form a coherent thought, you simply hum and nod, then allow Yoongi to break from the hug. "Hurry on," he says, smiling sadly as more fireworks and taunting words come from outside. 

You run through the dark mansion, startling each time another loud boom erupts. Despite knowing that the sounds are fireworks, you fear that whatever is happening right now could become more dangerous. 

Without turning your bedroom light on, you make your way quickly to the closet and grab the suitcase. Then you remember your cell phone, which was left on your bed. You pick it up and turn on the screen, expecting to find something from Seokjin telling you of whatever plan he may have formed before all of this kicked off, and you are surprised to find a text that simply says, "Be there in 3," which was sent exactly three minutes ago. 

You open the suitcase and grab a pair of sneakers, deciding that going to the front door for ones that have been left there is out of the question. As you zip the case back up, you hear footsteps running up the stairs and freeze, feeling fear and anxiety rush. 

"Cub," Seokjin's voice says in a whisper-yell, "are you ready?"

Without waiting for your response, he reaches and takes the suitcase by its handle and turns to run down the large staircase. You shove your feet into the black sneakers, which you will need to straighten out once you are in a vehicle, and then take one last glance at the dark room before following behind, attempting to make out the sounds of shouting coming from outside. 

Seokjin leads you down the hall, into the dining room, and through the open wall panel, which you close tightly behind you. The light has not been turned on, but your eyes are adjusted to the dark, and your heart pounds loudly and heavily as you grip onto the wooden railing and rush behind him, feet quietly pattering against carpet as you descend. 

Once you finally reach the bottom of the steps, where Seokjin waits, your thoughts begin to settle. A dim light is turned on, and as you look around at the abandoned recreation space, you begin to accept the fact that all of this is finally happening. 

A glance at your phone shows that it is just after one in the morning. Feeling frustration rise, you shove the device into a hoodie pocket and follow behind Seokjin, who continues through the space.

"So much for sticking to the plan," you grumble, head still spinning. 

It is shocking to you how the depths of the mansion seem to fully hide the sounds that are coming from outside. You walk hurriedly across the dim, carpeted basement, doing your best to keep up with Seokjin's long legs making quick strides.

"Oh, this is not my doing," he says with an amused laugh, head turning somewhat to the right. "It is lucky that his nonsense is loud enough to be heard across the property."

For some reason, you are inclined not to believe him. You mutter, "Sure," and keep your eyes ahead. 

"I mean it," Seokjin insists. "Although I have to admit, it is the perfect way to catch the loverboys off guard, this also poses somewhat of a threat. Taehyung and Jeongguk live deep enough onto the property that simply taking you to one of their homes for safe-keeping would have been a wise choice under normal circumstances. Hell, having you hole up at my place with all of Hoseok's weapons is the best choice."

Seokjin pauses at the end of the staircase, lifts your luggage, and says, "I am likely going to catch hell for removing you from the compound."

You think back to how Seokjin lied about Hyunjin's death, and about how much Jeongguk seems to mistrust him. How many secrets does Seokjin hold onto? How many lies does he spin to protect others? 

Namjoon and Yoongi seemed resolute in the fact that you would be leaving the mansion property entirely, but they likely expect to be informed of your whereabouts immediately. What will Seokjin tell them?

And then you remember the letter you wrote and realize how this must look. Under a normal disappearance, this could seem like simply running away, but forgetting to remove the letter before this escape could lead the two of them to think you and Christian really are in cahoots. 

Without a doubt, this whole scenario is not going to bode well with the others, even though they seemed to expect as much to happen as you said goodbye. Especially when hot heads like Yoongi and Jeongguk begin to speculate on all the what-ifs.

It is your hope that Namjoon will be able to remain the voice of reason, even if it is just short term. Once he reads your letter, he will realize that you are gone for good, and you worry that he will forget your earlier conversation about needing a vacation in lieu of forming some kind of conspiracy that the letter could point to. 

As you make your way up the stairs, your heart begins to pound. You know that once you get outside, the shrubs will provide some cover, but you are uncertain of how you will manage to get away with Christian and his goonies just out front. 

Exhaustion and adrenaline keep you from asking too many questions, and you focus on putting one foot in front of the other, trusting that Seokjin has a plan. 

Seokjin reaches the top of the stairs and opens the door to the outside world, and in an instant, you hear voices shouting and booming. Your heart pounds so hard you feel disoriented, and you trip over your own feet, struggling to force yourself to get any closer to the sounds. 

"The house is armored," Seokjin utters softly as he keeps your luggage in his hand and makes his way toward the end of the shrub, to where the secret door lies. "Don't worry so much about the others. Come."

You close the door to the mansion, pressing it firmly in place, and then step as lightly as you can toward Seokjin. Rather than open the shrub door that Taehyung previously brought you through all those days ago, which leads straight out into the driveway, Seokjin slowly reaches into the shrub on the left, and you watch as it swings open into the wooded area that connects the homes.

Seokjin turns to you and nods his chin, urging you silently to catch up, and you tiptoe quickly ahead toward the opening. You are surprised to discover a fully covered path, not of gravel, but of concrete, leading away from the mansion in the direction of Seokjin's home. 

"When I left to come here, I didn't see anyone near my gate," Seokjin informs softly, rushing with smaller steps, as if to stay at your pace. For this, you are grateful. "People tend not to notice our homes, which gives us a means to escape. Although it appears that Christian has been planning this little insurrection of his, I doubt he is prepared for us to slip away into the night."

A particularly loud bang causes you to trip over your own feet and for all the blood in your body to turn cold. You shrink in on yourself and duck your head instinctively. 

"Sounds like Hoseok has arrived," Seokjin says with a chipper tone. Then he adds, "It's just a flash grenade, cub. A warning shot, so to speak. Usually that is all it takes to scare lower level guys away."

You accept what Seokjin says, but worry pools in your tummy over the thought of anyone getting hurt. Even Christian, as much as you hate to admit it. You hope that the men are able to solve this matter without anyone becoming injured or worse. 

Although you tell yourself that this must be goodbye—that you must bid farewell to the mansion for good—you feel sick at the thought of never being able to see any of these men again. You hope desperately for everyone to stay alive.

The path opens up to Seokjin's property, and you notice a sleek black sports car on the driveway. Seokjin rushes forward, and as the trunk of the vehicle pops open, presumably from a key fob in his grasp, you begin to run toward the passenger door, relieved to find that it is unlocked, and slide into the seat. 

As soon as Seokjin is in the driver's seat with the door closed, he sighs, presses the engine button, and says, "I'm not sure if I should thank Barom or flay him alive."

Although there are so many thoughts running through your mind—so many questions that you feel desperate to answer—what you ask is, "Why do you call him Barom?"

Seokjin begins to drive without turning on his headlights, along the dark driveway, toward his gate. 

"That is the name he uses under my employ," he responds, looking to the right, to where the large truck sits empty of shouting men, all of whom are either pressed against the gate to the mansion or have wiggled their way inside. "I suppose I have grown accustomed to it."

Good enough, you decide, disinterested in pushing the issue any further. The two of you set off into the night, in the opposite direction of the truck and its bright headlights, and you let out a breath of relief when you realize it is not following you. 

Once the road curves and dips, Seokjin turns on his headlights, illuminating the world ahead. Anxiously, you stare into the side-view mirror, waiting for headlights to appear and advance, but they never do. 

"Breathe," Seokjin says calmly as he reaches to turn on the radio. You are surprised to hear upbeat pop music coming from the speakers, and even more surprised when Seokjin does not change it. "We appear to be out of the woods—literally and figuratively—and the guys are more than capable of handling those idiots on their own."

You sigh, unable to be as optimistic, but unwilling to argue. Aside from the pop music accompanied by your pounding heart, the rest of the drive is quiet. 

Seokjin hums to a tune from time to time, and you stare ahead as the tree line becomes spotted more and more brightly with city lights. You even allow your eyes to close, feeling exhausted from such a long day, and when you open them, the car is driving onto a strip of tarmac, toward a private airplane. 

"Let me see your phone," Seokjin says, and without thinking, you hand it over. 

Rather than explain himself, he simply pockets your device and hands you a different one, then he gets out of the car and closes the door behind him. You sit still, feeling the weight of the new phone in your hands while Seokjin opens the trunk and retrieves your suitcase.

As you exit the car, tired from the unknowable amount of time you dozed off, Seokjin rolls your suitcase over to the jet, toward a small set of stairs that sticks out from its entrance. He stops at the bottom of the steps and hands the suitcase off to a staff member, then motions for you to get moving. 

You make your way somewhat slowly up the stairs, and you are surprised when you turn around to see that Seokjin is still on the ground. He is not joining you. 

"In order to prevent the lover boys from following your scent and making a rescue mission, I am sending you to Taiwan," he shouts. Worry rises, and you open your mouth to protest, but he continues, "A liaison will be there to meet you. She will know you when she sees you. Keep your head down, and do not try to contact any of us."

With a different phone, you wonder whether you can contact any of them without jumping through hoops. Surely, Seokjin did not hand you a device with everyone's numbers stored. You squeeze the phone in your palm, overtaken by the urge to cry. 

"I will reach out soon!" Seokjin shouts, lifting a hand to wave it. He appears far too calm for your comfort, and you suddenly worry you are making a huge mistake. "Trust that the people you meet have been put in charge of looking out for you, and keep an open mind. Things are not always as they seem."

Before you can respond, a staff member places a hand on your shoulder and ushers you to walk further into the airplane. You resist for a few seconds, but give in, too tired and confused to fight. You want to scream and lash out at Seokjin, but he is already spinning on the balls of his shoes and walking away. 

What have you done? What have you agreed to?

Staff members close the door while others make their way into your cabin. They ask softly worded questions, suggesting food and drink to bring once you are in the air. You shake your head, only half hearing what anyone says and finding it difficult to focus. 

As the plane begins to move, you find a seat and strap in, then you close your eyes. You are too anxious to properly take in your surroundings, moving on autopilot. The captain is soft-spoken as he informs you that the flight will be just under three hours. And so, you decide to close your eyes and sleep. 

Nightmares haunt every second of the flight, and you jolt awake more than once disoriented and heavy, unable to keep your eyes open long enough to move into the bedroom in the back or to convince yourself to ask for something to drink. When the jet lands, you gasp, eyes wide and heart pounding. It takes a few moments to realize where you are. 

The plane slows to an eventual stop, and you feel motion sick with the urge to vomit. Luckily, a staff member is close by, and they offer you a cup of water, which you drink quickly. 

Seokjin's recommendation to keep an open mind plays in your head on repeat, and you worry yourself with all the horrible possibilities. Who could be waiting for you once the door to this plane opens? You are not eager to find out.

Staff members open the door, and you almost do not believe your eyes when, a moment later, in runs Ahn Hyejin. She looks like an angel dressed in a white tank top and short white shorts, with a long white sweater falling from her shoulders. Her dark hair falls to one side of her face in large waves, and her pouty lips are bright red. You remain buckled into the seat when she falls to her knees and sits tall, wrapping her arms around your middle. 

"H–Hyejin?" you try, unsure whether your exhaustion has reached new heights and you are hallucinating. 

Her perfume is all too familiar, convincing you that she really is here. The rose hits your senses first, followed by citrus and something sweet, and you relax all at once, letting out a deep breath, only half aware of the tears that pour from your eyes. 

"My dove," she sighs, voice somewhat strained as if she is holding back her own tears. "It is so good to see you again. Come, you must get some sleep."

Hyejin reaches to undo your seatbelt, and reality continues to sink in. You move to help with the buckle, limbs moving on a bit of a delay, and you only have a chance to graze your fingertips over metal before she pulls it apart and frees you. 

She gets to her feet and reaches out, taking both of your hands in hers and yanking you upward. Once you are steady, she begins pulling you to the exit. It is still dark outside, with a hint of sun coming over the horizon. You imagine you must be one or two time zones away from home. 

A blood-red sedan sits on the tarmac, and when the door to the back seat is opened, you notice a woman in the driver's seat and another in the passenger's seat. You are unable to make out their features as you approach, noticing only straight dark hair on the passenger that is pulled tight into a bun with strands sticking out on one side. Both women wear sunglasses despite the lack of sun.

Hyejin says, "No matter what, know that you are safe, and loved, and protected." 

This does not assuage the already growing ball of nausea in your gut, and although your hand begins to sweat in her grasp, she is steadfast, holding on tight. A staff member approaches and puts your suitcase into the back of the vehicle, and Hyejin holds out a hand toward the open door and urges you to get in. 

Only now do you realize there is a third row of seats, one of which is occupied by another unrecognizable woman who does not greet you. As you slide into the back seat, a woman you had not noticed gets in on the other side, sitting to your right and sandwiching you in the center, with Hyejin on your left. 

Once you are settled and surrounded on all sides, an unfamiliar woman begins to drive, and you study her semi-covered face in the rear-view mirror, searching her nose and lips for any hints of recognition. Soft pop music plays, and you wonder if it is the same channel Seokjin had been playing before you remember you are no longer in Korea.

As the car pulls out of the airport, the front passenger turns her body to face you, and you realize in this moment what Seokjin meant when he urged you to keep an open mind—what Hyejin meant when she insisted that you are safe and loved and protected. 

You recognize Ryujin even before she fully removes her sunglasses, smiling wide and only a bit devious. She is beautiful with her dark hair pulled out of her face. 

"Darling," she says, dragging each syllable out long in a voice that is soft as silk. You swallow thickly, fighting another urge to be sick. "How lovely to finally meet you. I'm Shin Ryujin."

"I know who you are," you manage to say, voice strained and weak.

Ryujin giggles. "Oh, good! Seokjin-oppa called in a favor, so we are going to be taking you home with us. We'll stay here for the next two days, though. Are you hungry?"

Although the question is aimed at you, the car erupts into eager chatting. It seems the other four women are quite hungry. You nod despite not being sure whether you can eat. 

"I know you likely have a lot of questions," Ryujin says through the chatter, voice surprisingly clear though much softer. "Let's get you settled in and I will tell you everything you wish to know."

And with that, the six of you drive along dark city streets, far from anywhere you have come to know as home. 

* * *

When you realize By the sign of my eyes Without a doubt You can't stop me 'cause Love is banned

🎵 visit the playlist

absolutely bonkers that large chunks of this chapter have been written for literally a year. it's nice for things to finally culminate to this point.

this would have been the end of Collateral. i would have said a bunch of sappy shit and thanked you for your years of service before taking a hiatus and moving into the sequel. but since i have changed how things are going to be, we are simply going to continue. check out the master post to see the changes that have been made, and if you are curious for more context, see this post.

i am eternally grateful, tho!!! i hope you know that, dear readers! i started this fic two (2!!) years ago (as of this week!!!), and it is a honor to have you still here with me. i definitely did not intend for it to go on this long. 💜 thank you, thank you for your patience while i was dealing with writer's block. grief is a hell of a drug, and it knocked me flat on my ass.

this has been edited, but docs acted super weird and made a lot of strange duplications of words and phrases during the writing process, so if you find anything that is just fucking wonky that i may have missed (or even something perfectly normal!) don't be afraid to tell me. i would rather know to fix a mistake than leave it.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!! REBLOGS ARE IMPORTANT BLAHBLAHBLAH LIKES ARE ALSO AMAZING AND SO ON. 💜 tags will be coming in reblogs.

Yoongi's POV is next. i changed my mind about what i wanted his to contain, and i hope you enjoy it.

if you would like to see the inspo that brought DPR IAN to being mc's ex, check out this post.

have some water and fix your posture. 💜💜💜 i hope to see you soon!!! love you byeee!!!

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