#JUNGKOOK

[jjungkkook]

[spideyjimin]

Bloodlines entwined: X | jjk

⤷ having a baby alone was supposed to be easy. but an accidental twist of fate pulled you into a hidden world of werewolves, and ancient bloodlines. navigating your already complicated life becomes even harder as you uncover your past; one tied to a legacy you never knew existed. and in the middle of this chaos stands jungkook, the werewolf king… and the father of your child. 

—  pairing: werewolf!jungkook x female reader 

—  genre: strangers to lovers, parents-to-be au, royalty au, werewolves au, soulmates au, angst, fluff, and smut 

— rating: 18+ 

—  words: 15,033

—  warnings: teasing, strong language, swearing, mention of crying, sexual tension, mention of sexual frustration, mention of masturbation, mention of sex, dry humping, fingering, dom!jungkook, kind of masturbation, handjob, riding, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, nipple sucking, ass slapping, childbirth (please note that it might not be really accurate, I never gave birth so i don’t really know), screaming, crying, a lot of pain, blood, and mention of breastfeeding

—  author’s note: so this is it. this is the final chapter of this series 😭 i can’t believe this series is over, and it truly breaks my heart. i got so attached to this series and worked so hard on it. i’ve spent days building this universe, and the characters and thinking about everything. i can say that I feel proud with what i did considering that it’s the first time I build this kind of series, and to be honest, I never thought i’d write a werewolf au 😅 again, i’m very sorry for all the time it took me to release this part but it’s been a hell of a journey with my hand, but things are finally getting better ✨ thank you so so much for reading this chapter & series!! 🩵🩵 it meant the world to me 🩵 there will still be an epilogue after this part so we’re not entirely done with this series! 🩵

Chapter X: bloodlines entwined

SERIES MASTERLIST | previous | next

“I have some news to give you,” you announce as your eyes scan the classroom.

The little heads of your students are turned to you, and their little eyes are shining, excited to hear your announcement.

“I’m expecting a baby!” A smile grows on your face as you say those words out loud.

You haven’t said anything before because you were scared that something might happen to you or your little baby. But now that everything seems to be going just well, you feel like it’s about time your students knew. They are still very little, and very soon, you’re going to impose a drastic change on them. They need to get mentally prepared for that change.

“Where?” one of the students asks.

“The baby is currently growing in my belly,” you push up your shirt to show your baby bump.

Their eyes widen as they see your bump. Lately, you’ve been wearing larger clothes, sometimes even Jungkook’s clothes, as you wanted to be comfortable and hide your growing belly. For sure, your boyfriend doesn’t complain because he adores watching you wearing his clothes. Obviously, before you leave the house, he checks that you wear a bra as well. That would make you roll your eyes with annoyance.  

“And very soon, he will be out, ready to meet you,” you add while caressing your stomach.

“When can we meet the baby?” a little one says.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” a girl asks.

“Well, it’s a boy, and you still will have to wait a while before meeting him,” you gently explain. “He’s staying inside until June.”

“Oooh, it’s in a long time,” a little boy pouts. “It’s even after my birthday.”  

“I know, but around mid-May, another teacher will replace me because I won’t be able to continue to come anymore. The baby will be too heavy inside my stomach, and I will need to prepare to welcome him.”

They all nod, but you’re sure most of them don’t even realize the weight of your words. They will probably start crying when they understand you’ll leave for a while. That only thought breaks your heart. You love these little munchkins so freaking much.

“If you want,” you continue. “You can touch my belly and feel the baby kicking,” you suggest.

It might help them to understand the situation a bit more. As they stand up to walk towards you, you sit down on the chair to be at their level. Their small hands rest on your bump, and instantly, your little wolfy starts kicking. And then, an intense warmth spreads through your body. It’s your baby boy. He feels secure and safe, and he’s definitely enjoying feeling all this love.

“I can feel him,” one of the children screams with joy.

Their excitement and joy as they feel your son warms your heart. You only wish they could sense his energy the way you do because then they’d know just how happy he is. He may not be here physically yet, but his presence already feels so real. Looking at your little munchkins, your heart is overwhelmed with joy. This will forever be a moment engraved in your heart.

After that, you continued teaching them something new, and the day flew by quickly. At the end of the day, Jungkook waited for you at the school door. He has been doing this from the very beginning, and it’s honestly the highlight of your day. No matter what’s going on in the werewolf world, he finds the time to come pick you up at work. And that, you know it’s one of the many proofs of his love for you.

“I’ve something for you,” you say once you’re both in his car.

He narrows his eyes, seeming suspicious of what might be your gift.

 “What is it this time?” he asks, which makes you roll your eyes.

“By the way you’re looking at me, you’d think I always give you shitty gifts.”

“We never know with you,” he replies, lips twitching in amusement. “Could be a rock with googly eyes, could be an ancient family heirloom. There’s really no in-between.”

“You’re such a drama queen,” you scoff. “I think it’s time we officially retire ‘King Jungkook’ and go with ‘Drama Queen Jungkook.’ It suits you better.”

“I’ll inform the council during the next meeting and let you know afterward which title they chose,” he ironically answers.

This man is unbelievable. He’s always in for teasing you, but you know that it’s his way of flirting with you. And, well, you only love to tease him back. It’s also your way of showing him that you love him too. 

“You know what?” you retort. “Next time, you’re getting a leaf with ‘fuck you’ written on it in glitter.”

“That’s original,” he laughs. “I guess I’ll hang it in my study so everybody will know what kind of gifts my girlfriend gives me.”

You roll your eyes, but you perfectly picture him doing it. It’d be funny to see a damn leaf with ‘fuck you’ on it in his special room.

“Now, I definitely want to get you that instead of what I’ve with me,” you smile at him.    

He laughs softly but leans closer, eyes curious now.

“Alright, alright. Let’s see what you’ve got, troublemaker.”

You shake your head at the nickname with the brightest smile on your face. You reach into your bag and hand him a small, wrapped object. His big hands grab your gift before unwrapping it slowly. It’s a leather journal, similar to the one he currently has.

Jungkook has always had a journal where he writes down his own thoughts. At ten, his father bought him his first journal and advised him to lay down whatever would cross his mind. At first, he thought that he didn’t need it, but when the first shifts started to be a nightmare, he started writing what he was feeling. Over time, it helped him face his emotions and the world.  

Every time he reaches the final pages, he buys a new one. Once fully complete, he places it in the library of his study to keep it handy in case he needs it. Sometimes, he opens one to read what he felt on a certain day of his life. For example, he’s been loving to reread the moment he realized you were his soulmate.

It warms his heart that you notice he’s reaching the last pages of his journal. It means more than he can even express. Even though you’ve caught him writing in his journal, he never realized you’d pick up on the little details.

The leather journal fits perfectly in his hands, his initials embossed on the cover. For a moment, he’s quiet, just running his fingers across the material. It is the first one that has his initials on it, and it will forever be his favorite one. Then he opens it and sees your handwriting on the first page.

“It’s so cool when I’m on my own,” he reads out loud, voice dropping slightly, “but it’s warmer in your arms.”

He doesn’t say anything at first, but his gaze lifts to meet yours, eyes softer now. Being in his arms is now your favorite place, and it reassures you beyond comprehension when he’s near you. And when he isn’t around, the world feels so cold.

“That’s really beautiful,” he murmurs. “You wrote this?”

You nod, feeling just a bit shy, but the way he looks at you—the weight of affection and awe behind his stare—makes your chest tighten in the best way. You wanted to leave a little note in his journal to remind him that you love him. Writing ‘I love you’ seemed so cheesy and so not you. So you tried to find something, and that sentence only made sense.

“It’s stupid,” you mumble.

“No,” he says, shutting the journal gently. “It’s not. It’s you. And that makes it perfect.”

Jungkook places the journal on his lap before passionately kissing you. There isn’t a day that goes by when he doesn’t feel grateful to have your love. It hasn’t been emotionally easy since meeting you, but he has never felt as much peace as he has lately.

Jungkook has been working in his study room for the past two hours. You ignore what he’s working on in there. The silence spilling from beneath the door is almost suspicious, especially considering that he usually spends these hours on the phone with other werewolves or alphas. But tonight? Nothing.

You don’t think too much about it. You’ve got your own work to finish, after all, tomorrow’s class isn’t going to prepare itself. To stay focused, you put your headphones on, drowning yourself in calm music to avoid eavesdropping or imagining whatever Jungkook is up to. It works, but only for a moment.

Once your lesson preparation is finally done, you stretch your sore muscles and head toward the living room, which, unfortunately, is right next to his study. Now that your brain isn’t occupied anymore, the silence from behind his door becomes harder to ignore. It's like calling you, teasing your curiosity.

You scroll through all the streaming apps possible, trying to find something to watch. You land on Ghostbusters: Afterlife, but you can't focus. The movie plays in the background, but your mind is in the study with him.

It’s the full moon’s fault. It was just last night, and your senses are still heightened. You feel raw, aware of every little thing about him. It's like your body has its own will and is tremendously drawn toward him. You shift on the couch, trying to resist the pull.

But the longer the silence lasts, the more tempted you are to give in.

Inside the study, Jungkook sits at his desk, completely still except for the quiet turning of ancient pages. The books spread out before him are filled with old lore and scattered, almost-forgotten histories. Most of them are in a script so faded that it takes him a second to make out the words. But he's patient. He’s determined.

He’s been taking notes in the new leather journal you offered him earlier today, and he’s been carefully underlining passages that mention rare werewolves, those born between two packs. Even though it’s quite normal to have mixed werewolves, it’s not really common. It’s actually even rare. Usually, pack members marry within their own pack. It’s quite rare for members of two different packs to marry and have children.

Based on what he got to read and what he knows, mixed werewolves are stronger than ‘normal’ werewolves, even though they naturally choose one pack at birth. But he doesn’t find anything about their strength in the womb, which is what he’s looking for.

So, it feels like it confirms what he and his family believe: your son is different. Powerful. Maybe even something the world has never seen. And he is actually convinced that it’s because there hasn’t been somebody like him. He’s a mixed werewolf and son of a king, and a hybrid. This is all uncharted territory for him.

And he wants to understand this. Not to control it; never that. But to protect him and to be ready. Becoming a father is already significant, but becoming a father of such a special being sometimes frightens him. So, he searches for whatever he can find to help him be ready.

As he writes down another line, he pauses, his head tilting slightly. He can feel you just outside the room, trying your hardest not to barge in.

A small smirk appears on his lips.

He knows you’ve been pacing back and forth in your mind, throwing on some random movie to distract yourself, but he can still feel that post-moon pull lingering in your chest, just like it is in his. That magnetic thread between you two, tugging and stretching thin.

You want to come in.

He hasn’t moved. Part of him wants to see how long you’ll last.

Another page flips. His pen glides against the paper.

Ten minutes pass.

Then fifteen.

And then…

A soft shuffle.

He hears the sound of your bare feet on the floor, followed by the faintest creak in the hallway. You open the door, finding him in the middle of books and writing in his journal. At first, you decide to wait until he looks up, but he doesn’t. He just waits.

And then, finally.

“Are you gonna ignore me or is this your new hobby?” your voice rings out from the doorway.

“Took you longer than I expected,” he smiles without looking up.

“Were you testing me?” your eyes narrow, but you can’t quite hide the small smile appearing on your face.

“I was working,” he says innocently, then finally lifts his gaze to yours. “You were testing yourself.”

“So, what top-secret king business are you doing in here that’s more important than being with your gorgeous, pregnant girlfriend?” you walk in, arms crossed but amused.

He chuckles, patting the chair beside him. “Come here. I’ll show you.”

And when you sit down and see the open books, the mess of notes, and the carefully highlighted lines, something shifts. The smile on your face grows bigger when you realize he’s been using the journal you gifted him.

“You’re doing this for him,” you softly say, your eyes scanning the delicate handwriting.

Jungkook nods. “If he’s going to be something the world’s never seen, I want to be ready. I want to understand what he might carry. What he might become.” He pauses. “And,” he adds, voice low, “I wanted to give you a reason to come find me.”

You bump your shoulder into his, trying not to melt.

“You’re such a tease.”

“You love it,” he says before kissing your temple. “Now help me understand this strange old sentence that seems like it was written by a drunk werewolf.”

You chuckle at his words, but you gladly help him out. And for the next hour, the two of you read some more books, trying to decipher what the eldest wrote. It’s not easy at all, but thankfully, there are also more modern ones that are way clearer.

“What is this?” you ask when a sentence in an old book catches your attention.

“Oh, it’s written in the old language,” he explains.

“Old language?” you frown.

“Yep, originally, werewolves had their own language called Lunari,” he begins. “Over time, we learned the ‘human’ languages to blend in. For a long time, we still kept talking Lunari, but we slowly stopped. The royal family still learns to preserve it and to be able to read ancient books. We are the memory of the werewolves. Some of them still learn it by curiosity, but nobody really practices it anymore.”

“Wow,” this blows your mind. “So, you can speak Lunari?”

“Yep,” he nods. “But I’m pretty bad at it,” he giggles. “Mingi, on the other hand, speaks it very well.”

“Why didn’t you ever mention it?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs with a crooked smile. “I guess I didn’t think it mattered much anymore. Nobody ever asks about it, and most days, I don’t feel very ancient,” he pauses for a moment, eyes softening as they meet yours. “But maybe I should’ve told you. It’s part of who I am. Part of what our son will inherit, too.”

“It’s okay,” you say, placing your hand on his shoulder. “But now I want to learn it too,” you smile.

His smile grows bigger, and his heart warms at your words. Even though you are part of this world, of his world, it still moves him that you want to be more involved in it. Learning Lunari will surely bring you even closer to this world.  

“Did your mother learn it?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “She’s never been interested in it, and for my father, it was the best excuse to get mad at her or to incite us to do silly things without her understanding anything.”

Jungkook is brought back to a couple of years ago. He was ten back then, his mother was pregnant with Mingi, and his father told him something he still remembers to this day.

“Your mom’s tired, so let’s not bother her,” his father whispered in Lunari as he got down to Jungkook’s level with a conspiratorial grin. “But if you sneak into the kitchen and bring me two pieces of cake, I promise to teach you the curse words in Lunari.”

Jungkook chuckles at the memory, his eyes bright with nostalgia. He still remembers how he discreetly waited five minutes in front of the kitchen to ensure his mom wasn’t there. And then, very very slowly, he grabbed two pieces of cake from the fridge. He then ran as fast as he could to bring them to his father, who was sitting in the same chair he’s sitting in now.   

He’d do anything to relive those sweet and funny moments with his father. They were so close.  

“He’d use Lunari to start little ‘missions’ with me. Mom didn’t stand a chance,” he shakes his head fondly. “It was his way of bonding. Of teaching the language without making it feel like a chore. He made it fun.”

Thinking about little ten-year-old Jungkook stealing pieces of cake for his father makes you smile.

“Well, I hope you’ll find creative ways to teach our son the language, just like your father did,” you smile at him.

“Don’t even doubt it, sunshine,” he winks at you. “Our son will master Lunari.”

“I really hope so,” you say.

Jungkook’s hands slide around your waist as you settle on his lap, his eyes gleaming with that familiar spark.

“And I’ll find creative ways with you too, sunshine,” he whispers, his voice low and velvety.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” you arch a brow, already amused.

He leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice dripping with teasing warmth.

“Well, Lunari’s a very physical language. There is a lot of body expression. Might need late-night lessons. Hands-on, of course.”

You let out a laugh, smacking his chest lightly. This is all bullshit. This is just Jungkook being flirtatious with you. You’re absolutely sure that this language isn’t physical at all.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he begins. “I’m just very committed to cultural preservation,” he grins, pulling you closer.

“Maybe you could already show me a thing or two,” you whisper as your fingers trace circles on his covered chest.

His hands on your waist instantly push your hoodie higher to reveal your baby bump to your boyfriend’s hungry eyes. He then tells you how ‘pregnant woman’ is said in Lunari, and it sounds beautiful. It definitely sounds like an ethereal language. How can it not be used anymore?

His fingers caress your stomach as his mouth finds yours for a heated kiss. Lunari words fall from his lips, and man, hearing him speaking in another language is hot as fuck. It’s just a massive turn-on. Why didn’t he ever talk to you about this language before?

“You’re so fucking hot when you speak Lunari,” you tell him, your eyes meeting his lusty ones.

“I’m always hot,” his tongue licks your lips.

“You’re so full of yourself, Jeon,” you clap back.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” his eyes are so damn dark that it almost makes you look away.

“Maybe you are,” you tease him.

His fingers move up to touch your heated face, the most devious smirk growing on his face.

“The heat on your face says otherwise.”

You roll your eyes, ready to leave his lap for being annoying, but his strong arms wrap around your waist, making it impossible for you to move. But it also allows you to feel his growing crotch against your leg.

“Where are you going, Jeon?” he teases you.

“I’m not a Jeon,” you hit his chest.

“Of course you are,” his voice takes a sweet turn. “You became one the second you got pregnant.”

This hot moment has suddenly taken a very heartfelt turn, making you pout. You can’t believe what he just said.

“And you’re a Y/l/n,” you tell him, your fingers ghosting over his sharp jaw.

“A proud Y/l/n,” he grins. “It’s even better than Jeon.”  

“You’re incredible!” you say.

His teasing and hot face suddenly becomes very serious.

“Would you like to take my last name when we get married?” he asks.

The question catches you a bit off guard because you never really talked about marriage. It’s like you already know you’ll get married one day, so there’s no real added value to bringing up the topic. But it’s still surprising to hear him talk about it.

The answer to his question seems quite obvious. His mother took his father’s last name when they got married, so you’ll have to do the same. These past few months, you got to see firsthand how traditional the royal family is. You’re not sure you’ll have much to say here. He’s the king, you’ll be his queen. Hence, you’ll take his name.

“Well, I guess I don’t have much of a choice,” you reply with a small shrug. “You’re the king, and I’ll have to take your name, right?”

Traditionally, the queen always takes the king’s last name. Every queen before you has carried the name Jeon after marriage. It’s common in many cultures, but your mom never took your dad’s last name. People referred to her as Miss Y/l/n, but that wasn’t technically correct—not that she ever seemed to mind.

“Not sure if you know this,” Jungkook says, “but in our culture, the wife doesn’t take her husband’s last name. It’s our way of keeping a connection to our original families, even after marriage.”

You pause, surprised. It actually makes sense. Maybe that’s why your mother never changed her name either.

“My sister is still Jeon Dohee, even after marrying Namjoon, and he never expected her to change it,” Jungkook says gently. “But things are different for the king and queen. Taking the king’s last name is symbolic. It’s how you're officially recognized as the queen. It's like being crowned in name. But I’d never want to force you into it. In my heart, you're already a Jeon. The name doesn’t make that any more or less true.”

In all honesty, you never once thought about what would happen to your last name the day you get married. But now that Jungkook brings it up, it seems weird. Your mother never took your dad’s last name, even though they married before your birth. So you’re not sure of how things will go once you’re married to this man. However, if he really and deeply cares about you taking his last name, you’ll just do it.

“I’ve honestly never thought about this before,” you admit, your voice soft. “But if it matters to you, if it’s something tied to tradition, I’ll gladly take it. Carrying your last name doesn’t make me any less of a Y/l/n.”

 “I might sound like a very old guy, but I’d honestly love for you to carry my last name,” his fingers tug a strand of hair behind your ear.

You offer him a sincere smile before pressing your lips to his. You rest your head on his shoulder, lips still tingling from the kiss. For a second, you silently just breathe him in. His hands soothe your back, and being here with him simply calms you.

When you started this whole insemination journey, you never pictured yourself living any of this. You thought you’d be a single mother, discussing the baby’s bedroom wall color with Lexi and Felix. Finding love was never part of the equation. Finding love was actually the last thing on your mind. But then, Jungkook appeared and flipped your world upside down.

“If someone had told me a year ago that I’d be having this kind of conversation, I would have laughed in their face.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. “I started this whole journey thinking I’d be a single mother. I was ready to do it alone.”

“With Felix and Lexi, you would have never been alone,” Jungkook whispers.

“I know, but I mean that I never expected the baby’s father to ever come into the picture. I never once thought that I’d be falling for someone. Let alone a king,” you chuckle.

Jungkook hesitates between giving a sarcastic answer and being serious. But he goes for the second option.

“Well, for what it’s worth,” he begins, his voice low and warm. “I never thought I’d be falling for my son’s mom. But how couldn’t I?” Your head lifts up to meet his gaze. “Your soul is the prettiest one I've ever met. And the second our lives collided, I didn’t want to be just the father of your child; I wanted to be yours. I wanted to come into the picture. I wanted you to let me in, even if I had to fight for it.”  

A smile grows on your face at his words, while your heart totally melts.

“Well, hate to break it for you, but you fought for it,” you both chuckle. “You even accepted that we took it slow when we were seconds away from making love.”

“Aaah don’t remind me of that,” he shakes his head. “I had to finish by myself in your bathroom, and I thought that I’d die before you’d even let me in life.”  

You roll your eyes because he’s always exaggerating.

“What?” he exclaims. “We were fucking with damn clothes and then, you threw at my face ‘Aren’t we going too fast?’.” He tries to mimic your voice. “I definitely thought our son would be born before you decided we weren’t going too fast.”

You still feel extremely sorry for what happened that day.

“But, well, good news, you convinced me that we weren’t going too fast before our son was born.”

“Thank God,” his hands move to your stomach to stroke it. “Not sure Jungkook Junior would have survived all this time.”

You roll your eyes once more.

“You’re such a drama queen.”

“Drama queen is my middle name.”

You laugh and shake your head.

“Let’s see if it will also be our son’s middle name,” you reply.

“With me as his dad, there’s no doubt about it,” he teases you.

You wrap your arms around him. Honestly, you simply can’t wait for your baby boy. You can’t wait to hold him in your arms and love him unconditionally, just like the way you love his father.

“You’re really proud of yourself, aren’t you?” you murmur, your voice dropping as your fingers tease the edge of his collar, nails grazing just enough to make his breath hitch.

Jungkook’s eyes drag slowly over your face, then down your body. He smirks, the corner of his mouth curling like he already knows what you’re about to do.

“When you’re sitting in my lap like that, looking at me like that,” his voice is already filled with lust. “yeah, I’m damn proud.”

You shift your hips just enough to feel the way his body responds beneath you. You already feel proud of yourself for turning him on in seconds, but well, you’ve been teasing each other for a little while already.

“I thought royalty was supposed to be humble.”

He leans in, his lips ghosting your jaw, hot breath brushing your skin. Shivers run down your spine as he does so, and damn, this man has so much power over you. He could make you come right here with his fingers alone.

“I’m the king,” he growls, voice low and rough. “I take what’s mine.”

Your pulse races. “And what exactly is yours, Jungkook?”

“You,” he says without hesitation. His hands slide up your thighs, fingers slow and deliberate. “This mouth. This body. Every soft sound you make when I touch you like this,” he presses you down against him, your breath stalling.

“Careful,” you whisper, but your voice wavers. “You might start something we can’t finish.”

His teeth scrape your neck, just enough to make your skin burn and make you gasp.

“Sunshine,” he murmurs, “I thought you already knew that I finish everything that I start.”

You gasp once more when his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you flush against him. Your fingers grip his shoulders as his mouth returns to yours, hungrier now, tongue sliding past your lips like he’s starving for you.

And maybe he is. Because the way he holds you, the way he kisses you, it's not just lust. It’s love, wild and unfiltered, carved deep into every heartbeat between your bodies.

“Do you even realize,” he mutters against your lips, “how beautiful you are like this? Carrying our son. Glowing like the goddess you are. Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“Tell me,” you whisper, already breathless.

But Jungkook doesn’t tell you; he shows you.

You don’t remember when the kiss deepened, only that your hands are now tangled in his hair and he’s devouring you like he needs you to breathe. His chair creaks beneath the pressure of your bodies tangled together, his hands roaming like he’s trying to memorize every curve.

“Jungkook,” you gasp as he grips your hips and rocks you against him, his mouth trailing down your throat, leaving heat in every place he touches.

“Tell me to stop,” he mutters, lips brushing the hollow of your collarbone. But the way his voice sounds, low and hoarse, says he’s hoping you won’t.

“Why would I ever want that?” you breathe, tilting your head back to give him more access.

“You drive me crazy,” he says, sliding your hoodie up slowly, savoring every part of newly revealed skin. “You walk around here looking like sin and expect me to keep my hands to myself?”

“I didn’t say that,” you whisper, guiding his hand where you need him most. “I want your hands on me.”

His fingers brush over your clothed pussy, and a moan instantly falls from your lips. God, this feels marvelous.

“Good,” he growls. “Because I don’t plan on letting go.”

He kisses you again, this time slower, deeper. His hand slips beneath the waistband of your pants, fingers tracing your skin like he’s praying to something divine.

Your back arches as his name escapes your lips in a breathless moan, and it’s that sound that breaks whatever control he had left. He pulls you closer, anchoring your body to his like he wants to burn this into his memory forever.

And he will.

Because here, in the quiet fire of his study, you’re not just his lover. You’re the storm he chooses to get lost in. Again and again.

“Take off your pants, sunshine,” he whispers against your lips.

You don’t have to be told twice. You instantly stand up, removing every single piece of clothing left on your body. Jungkook does the same, not wanting to waste any more time. When he sits back down on his chair, his hand finds his tick shaft to lazily stroke it. He looks like pure sin like that, but man, you’d be lying if you say that it’s a sin you wouldn’t like to get lost in.

“You look so hot,” you tell him.

His eyes look up at you with pure filth in them.

“Don’t even get me started on how fucking hot you look, sunshine,” he says with a deep voice.

In no time, you’re sitting on him again. You remove his hands from his dick and guide them to your core that is craving his fingers more than ever. He instantly rubs his fingers against your folds, making you moan. You bite your lower lip, trying not to make too much noise, but it’s a lost cause.

“Fuck, sunshine,” he swears. “You’re so soaked.”

Your hands wrap around his cock, pumping it at the same pace of his fingers. Your gazes are locked in each other, his mouth opened as you pleasure him.

“Don’t muffle your moans,” he practically begs. “I want to hear every sweet sound you make.”  

“I don’t want the staff to hear us,” you admit, your breath hitching as his fingers work magic against your core.

A little chuckle leaves his lips before a mischievous glint appears in his eyes.

“Sunshine,” he murmurs with a smirk. “They’ve already heard us multiple times. At this point, I’d even say they take notes every time.

You gasp with surprise, your hands squeezing his dick. A strangled moan escapes his mouth.

“Jungkook!”

He just laughs and leans in, lips brushing your ear.

“What? I’m only giving them something to gossip about at dinner. ‘Did you hear yn again last night?’” He teases in a mock-serious voice. “‘Poor walls, they’re not built for royal passion.’” He continues.

One of your hands stops pleasuring him to swat at his chest, but he catches your wrist with a grin that spells trouble.

“I could always make it worse,” he murmurs, lips ghosting over your jaw. “Be louder. Give them a real show.”

“Jungkook,” you warn.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, then his lips move to your cheek, and then just beneath your ear. Each press of his lips is soft but promising something far less innocent. And honestly, you want him to ruin you, but you don’t want to make a lot of noise. It’s weird to imagine that the staff hears you while you’re making love with Jungkook.

“You sound like a horny teenager,” you laugh.  

One of his fingers slips inside your hole, his eyes glued to your face to catch your reaction. Your mouth hangs open while you try not to moan like a savage. Your hands leave his already hard shaft to balance yourself on his shoulders.

“It’s the yn effect,” he replies, his finger thrusting into you. “I could make love to you all day long and never grow tired,” he admits. “I’ve never felt like this before. I’m so damn addicted to you. And I want everybody to know it.”  

“Oh,” you moan while you shut your eyes. “Jungkook.”

“The way you moan my name,” he says while torturing you, “is the prettiest sound I've ever gotten to hear.”  

Without realizing it, you start bucking your hips, a trail of moans falling from your lips. You don’t manage to hold back even if you want to. This man knows how to pleasure you with only one finger.

“That’s it, sunshine,” he whispers against your ear. “Let them know how good I make you feel.”

His cock twitches due to the sight in front of him, his glowing, and pregnant girlfriend melting under the weight of desire. How on earth did he get so lucky to have you? What did he do to deserve you?

“Jungkook,” you moan once more. “I want to come around your dick,” you confess.

A grin grows on his face before he presses a gentle kiss on your cheek.

“As you wish, my queen,” his eyes look up at you while his finger stops torturing you.

His hands hold your waist while you eagerly sit on him, his cock splitting you in half as it makes its way inside you. The sensation is overwhelming, but more than welcome. Your walls curve and mold into the shape of his massive shaft. You grip onto his shoulders as he bottoms up. He stops once he has reached your cervix to give you both some time to adjust.

However, you don’t want to wait at all, so you clench your walls around him. His eyes open wide with surprise.

“Please move,” you beg.

“You could have just said it instead of torturing me,” he says.

“What’s the fun of it if I can’t torture you?” you tease him. “You can’t be the only one doing it.”

“You drive me insane,” he starts to move, slow and deep. “And I fucking love it.” His lips whisper against your ear. “But don’t forget who always wins in the end.”

And then, your man shows you no mercy. He thrusts up into you at an erratic pace, making you both moan incredibly loudly. On top of that, your skin clapping against his is also echoing in the room. Well, there’s absolutely no doubt that the entire household staff is aware of what you’re both doing.

Your breasts bounce, and Jungkook stares at how they perfectly move. He’s totally hypnotized by the way they move. He has noticed how bigger they’ve grown over the past few days, and he’s definitely not going to complain.

“Your breasts are so big now,” he whispers before burying his face in them.  

His mouth wrap around your left nipple and sucks it like there’s no tomorrow. This feels beyond overwhelming. His hard thrusts and his mouth on your nipple are too much. But you don’t care because the feeling is marvelous. It’s actually an exquisite torture, one you never want to stop.

“Blame it on the milk,” you manage to say.

“Eeeh, I’m not going to blame anything or anybody,” he admits against your nipple, his eyes looking up at you. “I’m the happiest right now.”

You chuckle, your fingers finding their way to his hair. Jungkook shows no mercy to you and fucks you hard and deep. Every thrust has you losing your breath and gasping when you inhale. You can only whine and moan, but Jungkook isn’t any better.

When you start clenching around him due to the growing wave inside you, his thrusts grow erratic. You know you’re extremely close to your orgasm, but you try to hold it back a little longer because you know that if you do it, it will taste even better when it hits you. You’ve gotten to experience it over the last times.

“Your pussy is so good,” he’s utterly consumed by lust.

His mouth leaves your nipples, and his hand slaps your ass which makes your hips buck. Honestly, you never thought you’d be into ass slapping, but man, every time he does it, you get wetter. He knows it, so he does it often.

But then, his hands hold your ass in place, and his feet plant in the floor so he can buck up, hitting your cervix so deep and hard that you’re squealing. He’s getting closer, you know it. You’re also very close.

“Shit, I’m so close,” you confess through moan.

“Yeah?” he asks. “Me too.”

Both of you are completely lost in pleasure, his thrusts now completely sloppy, while your moans are only getting louder. He slaps your ass once more, and without any warning, your orgasm hits you with an intensity you never experienced before. Fucking in a new place together with the extreme teasing must be the reason.

Jungkook follows you right after because of the way you’re pulsing on his shaft. His cock twitches before releasing his cum inside you. You wrap your arms around his neck to bring him closer while you both get down for your orgasms.

Your breathing is still shallow, your bodies still locked together, but Jungkook doesn’t move away. Instead, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, planting slow, open-mouthed kisses along your damp skin.

“I love you,” he murmurs, his voice still thick from the intensity.

“I love you too,” you smile, your fingers combing gently through the back of his hair.

A few moments pass like that—hearts beating together, sweat cooling on flushed skin—before he finally, gently pulls out of you. He grabs a soft towel from the drawer nearby, the one he always keeps just in case, and carefully cleans you up.

“You have a towel here?” you furrow an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he shrugs as he now cleans his dick covered with his sperm and your juices. “I have to be ready in every room.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you roll your eyes.

“It’s not my fault I can’t keep my hands to myself when I’m around you,” he admits.

He wraps his arms around you like you’re the most precious thing in the world before you press a chaste kiss on his lips. You snuggle in his embrace, eyes fluttering shut as you feel safe, warm, and utterly loved.  

“We should get dressed before we get cold,” he whispers.

“I don’t want to move,” you pout.

“Me neither, sunshine, but we have to,” he says, standing up while still holding you tightly before putting you down.

Once you’re fully dressed, you head to the bedroom to fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Faster than expected, you’re in a special delivery room, pushing a baby out of your body. Jungkook is holding your hand while you scream in pain. Giving birth is quite painful, but you try to navigate your pain like the midwife told you. She’s even here, trying to help you.

Carrying and giving birth to a royal werewolf is kind of special. Werewolves don’t give birth at the hospital for many reasons. They give birth at home. However, the woman carrying the next heir gives birth in a place especially built for royal births. Apparently, it was built centuries ago on sacred werewolf ground. No heir has ever been born outside this sacred ground.

It’s a beautiful room, designed in a way that the woman could give birth in her human or wolf form. Everything in this space has been crafted with intention, from the smooth stones to the domed ceiling open to the sky, which allows the moonlight to flow in. On a night like this, under the Blood Moon, it casts a glow so red that it almost feels unreal. There’s no hospital beeping, no sterile walls. There’s just silence.

Well, except for your screams, Jungkook’s sweet and encouraging words, and the voice of the midwife who guides you through the birth. This is completely different from any birth presented on tv.

And even though you’re in pain, you find beauty in it. In this exact same room, countless queens before you stood, cried, pushed, and welcomed life. Jungkook came to life in this exact same room, which is very poetic. Every crowded werewolf king was born between these same walls.

This is where heirs are born. Where bloodlines continue. Where the old world and the new meet.

But tonight is even more special than any other night. Tonight it’s the Blood Moon. The moon is extremely red tonight, and it feels like the universe knew that the future king would be born tonight. The redness of the moon reminds you of the color of the Blood’s pack. The same pack that your son belongs to. Even the name of this type of moon alludes to the powerful pack of the royal family.

“You’re doing an amazing job, sunshine,” Jungkook whispers against your forehead.

You’re not exactly in the most glamorous position right now. First of all, you’re fully naked with your knees and hands on the floor and legs open. Anyone behind you is graced with the prettiest view in the world, but who cares? This is the position that helps you give birth to your little boy. This moment right here isn’t about being pretty, it’s about bringing a new life to the world. And all that matters is to be in a position that feels safe.

“I don’t know,” you start crying in pain.

“Hey, listen to me,” he says, his gaze locked with yours. “You’re pushing a little being from your body under a damn full moon and you’re doing it amazingly. It’s a lot of pain, I know, but you’re doing great.”

Ah yeah, the full moon. Normally, you should have already shifted, and both Jungkook and the midwife are expecting it at any moment. But so far, you’re still a human, and it seems like you’re not about to shift at all. You can feel it in your bones. Apparently, it doesn’t matter if you’re in labor. If it’s the full moon, you shift and give birth in your wolf form. It has happened to a lot of women.

The most surprising part, as well, is the fact that you’re not shifting under this type of moon. The Blood Moon is more powerful than any other moon, making it harder to shift. Even some Alphas struggle. Not Jungkook, though. This man definitely masters everything, which doesn’t surprise you at all.

“You can do it,” he smiles at you. “I believe in you, sunshine.”

Even though Jungkook doesn’t really feel the excruciating pain you’re experiencing right now, he’s trying to help you. This is a physical pain, one that he can’t comprehend as he’s not a woman, and because the bond doesn’t make him feel the physical pain. It’s mostly the emotional one. And that one, he feels it in every cell of his bones.

The midwife soothes your back, trying to comfort you as well. She told you she had three children, the youngest being fifteen today. Her second child was born during a full moon, and she had to go through the pain of childbirth and the shift. She thought she’d die. It was a pain like no other. She shifted during labor, and she gave birth to her daughter as a wolf. It’s definitely crazy, but you can only have admiration for this woman.

“You’re really doing great, yn,” she says with a soft voice. “Listen to Jungkook.”

“It hurts so much,” you say.

“I know, sweetheart,” Nari, the midwife, answers. “But very soon, your baby will be here with you, and the pain will then calm down.”

All you want now is for your baby to be out, but he’s been taking all his time to go down. It isn’t his fault; he’s actually also in pain. It isn’t just you; it’s him too.

Nari told you that babies suffer too during birth, and honestly, you never considered it, but it makes sense. When the waters break, there is nothing between you and your baby anymore. It’s literally bones against bones. And in the middle of that, your baby has to descend and move his little head to pave the way out.

The warmth that he usually gives you when you’re not well isn’t there anymore. There’s something else, and maybe that’s what accentuates your pain. You’re not sure. There’s just so much going on right now. Everything is over-stimulating. And this has been going on for hours now.

Five minutes ago, you reached the pushing part. Your baby is close; he’s almost here. It’s a matter of minutes or seconds before meeting your little boy. Before meeting the life you’ve been carrying for nine months. And honestly, that’s the part you’re the most excited for. That’s the part you’ve been waiting for since starting this whole insemination journey.

Your body is shaking under the pressure and the pain, sweat clinging to your skin, but your mind is solely focused on one thing. It’s on him. On your son.

You’re so close to finally meeting the little soul who’s changed everything. The one who’s made you stronger, softer, and more alive than you ever thought possible. You feel Jungkook’s hand caressing your face. His voice murmuring something low in your ear, something encouraging, but you can’t make out the words anymore. All you hear is your heartbeat.

And when the next wave comes, you push with everything you have left. Not just with your body, but with your heart. You push like it’s the last time you have to do it. Nari is behind you, trying to check on the progression, and then her words echo in your mind.

“I see his head,” she says with evident joy. “One more push, sweetheart.”

You’re uncertain if you have any strength left in you, but if one final push is what it takes, you believe you can do it. Every muscle in your body is trembling, your heart racing with pain and anticipation. Jungkook disappears from your line of sight, but he’s behind you now, steady and silent, ready to be the first one to hold your son.

The room feels suspended in time, heavy with energy. The world quiets. It’s just you, your body, and the tiny soul about to arrive.

Then it comes. The final contraction crashes over you like a tidal wave, fierce and unstoppable. Your hands clutch, your jaw clenches as you scream through it. You push, not just with your body, but with everything in you. With love, with fear, with fire.

And in that breathless moment, you feel it—your son sliding from your body, the final connection breaking. It’s more than just physical. It’s like a part of your soul detaching, only to be reborn in a new shape. He’s no longer just yours alone. He’s himself now. A tiny, living being. A legacy. A future.

For a brief moment, the room is filled with silence while Jungkook catches your son. This silence seems impossibly long for you, but extremely short for your boyfriend, who watches your baby with absolute wonder. The baby you’ve both been longing for so long.

Then, the silence is suddenly shattered by the sound you’ve been aching to hear—a cry. Sharp, strong, impossibly real. Your baby is finally here. Your baby has finally left your body after all this time.

Tears form in your eyes instantly. You don’t even realize you’re crying until your vision blurs. Jungkook lets out a sound; a broken breath, part laughter, part disbelief. He now holds your son in his arms for the first time since it all started.

“He’s here,” he whispers, his voice shaking. “He’s perfect.”

“You can turn around,” Nari tells you while she rubs your back.

With shaky legs and with the help of Nari, you finally sit, and when you finally get to see Jungkook with your son, your heart instantly melts. Your boyfriend’s eyes look up to meet yours, and he gets closer to you to rest your baby in your arms. The second he’s rested against you, his cries calm down, your warmth reassuring him.

You hold him extremely tightly against you. It feels surreal. It feels like you’re in a dream. Your eyes are glued on your son, and you never want to look at anything else than him. Tears keep running down your face, but this time, it isn’t due to the pain. It’s due to the extreme love and joy your heart is experiencing right now. You don’t even notice Jungkook standing next to you and looking at the two of you.

“Let’s place you in a more comfortable position,” Nari informs you.

Both she and Jungkook guide you to a little place behind you. You remain seated, but your back is now pressed against a soft material. Your legs are wide open, the umbilical cord still connected to your body. For a little while, you stay like this. Jungkook sits next to you, his impressive hands caressing the top of the baby’s head.

“Okay, it’s now time to push the placenta out,” Nari tells you.

She hands a pair of scissors to Jungkook to cut the umbilical cord. You never let go of your son, too scared that he might disappear if he isn’t in your arms anymore. But you have to hand him to his father because the placenta needs to leave your body. After a couple of pushes, it’s out. Now, your belly feels empty. There isn’t anything there anymore. And you feel a little pain in your heart. You got used to feeling your son inside you, and he isn’t there anymore. He’s in his father’s arms.

“How are you feeling?” Jungkook sits down next to you once more after Nari took your baby to check him up.

“Dead,” you honestly answer. “I’m destroyed and I feel empty too, but my heart has never felt this full of love.”

Jungkook’s hand gently strokes your thigh, and you rest your head on his shoulder. You close your eyes as you feel yourself slowly falling asleep.

“How does it feel now to be a father?” you ask, already half asleep.

“I became a father the second you got pregnant,” he says. “But now that I've gotten to meet our son, my heart is about to explode with love. I’ve never fallen in love this way.”

You’d like to say you’re offended, but you feel the exact same way. The second you laid eyes on your son, you fell in love with him. It’s a kind of love you’ve never felt before. It’s so pure and so strong at the same time. When you hear Nari getting closer to you, you open your eyes. She’s walking back to you with the brightest smile on her face.

“I’ll let you discover his pretty eyes,” she says as she places your baby in your arms.

Both you and Jungkook gasp when you see his beautiful eyes. Unexpectedly, he doesn’t have one eye color. He has two. One eye is blue and the other is red. He doesn’t belong to one pack only. He’s part of both. He’s a Shadow and Blood. 

“It’s so pretty,” Jungkook whispers. “I’ve never seen anyone being part of two packs.”

“Seems like he didn’t want to choose,” you smile. “He wants to be both at the same time.”

“And that’s why he’s already strong. He got the best of both worlds.”

“It’s a first time,” Nari intervenes. “Nobody has ever belonged to two packs, and I’m already so proud that our future king will belong to my pack,” her eyes meet yours, “to our pack.”

Nari is a Shadow. When it came to giving birth, you didn’t want just any midwife. You wanted someone who understood you, who spoke the language of your blood and instincts. Someone who could guide you not just medically, but spiritually too. If something were to go wrong, she’d know what to do. It gave you peace, and that peace is what brought you here.

“And let’s not forget he also belongs to the humans,” Jungkook adds gently. “He carries human blood too.”

You glance at him, heart swelling. Your son is already so special, not only because he’s your son. He’s a hybrid, a Shadow, a Blood, and a future king. A future king with roots deeper than tradition, broader than bloodlines. He carries so much already, and he’s only a couple of minutes old.

“Yes,” you whisper, your mind drifting to your father.

For a moment, you think about your parents. Your mind brings back your father’s smile and your mother’s warm laugh. They would have been overjoyed. Their grandson would’ve been spoiled with stories, hugs, and the kind of love only grandparents know how to give. You know they’re watching, wherever they are. You hope they’re proud.

Even though they won’t physically be present, they’ll be in your heart. And your baby boy is lucky to have Felix as his grandfather. He’ll grow up with him and will call him grandpa, but you know he’ll grow up with stories of your parents. Just like he’ll grow up with the stories of his grandfather, Taemoo.

“And what will be his name?” Nari asks, her voice cutting gently through the stillness.

You smile. The question lingers in the air, heavier than expected, not because it’s unexpected, but because this moment feels sacred. You hadn’t told anyone, not even your closest family. You and Jungkook decided early on to keep it secret, away from opinions or superstitions. This name wasn’t up for debate. It was chosen, not by trend, not by suggestion, but by instinct.

“Kai,” you say simply.

Nari’s eyes brighten, her smile wide and genuine.

“A unique name for a truly unique child,” Jungkook adds, pride clear in his voice.

You glance at your son, swaddled and sleeping peacefully, as if the world hadn’t just shifted around him. For the longest time, he was supposed to be Minho, a name you both adored. But the moment he made his presence known, strong and certain, you realized he needed something different. Something rare. Something that fits.

Minho was sweet. But Kai… Kai felt like destiny.

Maybe Minho will be the name of another son one day. But this boy? This boy was born under a Blood Moon, in a sacred place, with shadows and royalty in his veins.

Kai was always meant to be his name.

“It’s a sweet name,” Nari answers.

“Thank you,” you look up, your eyes meeting hers for a moment.

It’s extremely unreal to realize you just gave birth to the next king. It’s already surreal that you’re dating one, but now? Now, your blood runs through royal veins. Your lineage and Jungkook’s, once separate, are forever bound together in the heart of a child who carries both your worlds.

Bloodlines entwined, not just by fate, but by choice. By love.

After a little while, Jungkook carries you back to the main house while Nari holds Kai. You have absolutely no more energy left in your body. It’s like Kai sucked it all up while joining you. And your boyfriend doesn’t want you to make any more effort tonight.

“Can you please take care of him while I help her take a bath?” Jungkook asks Nari once inside.

“Absolutely,” she answers.

Jungkook’s arms hold you very tightly as he makes his way to the bathroom next to your bedroom. First, he lays you down on the bed and then disappears to turn the water on. You’re slowly falling asleep, and you’re internally battling to keep your eyes open, but it’s extremely hard. You desperately need to sleep.

Nari, on her side, is in your son’s room. It’s the room right in front of yours. You’ve prepared and decorated it before your baby’s arrival. To your eyes, it’s the prettiest room in this house.

When the bath is filled with hot water, your boyfriend comes back. A smile appears on his face when he notices that you’re in the exact same position.

“You haven’t moved,” he comments.

“I’m too tired, Kook.” You don’t even have the energy to say his full name.  

His hands remove the blanket covering your body before holding you once more. He lays you in the hot water, making you gasp as you feel it surrounding your sore body. Jungkook sits on the floor, his eyes filled with so much pride.  

“Thank you,” he whispers, his fingers tugging a strand of hair behind your ear. “Thank you for being such a wonderful and powerful person.” Your eyes look up to meet his. “Thank you for giving birth to our son. Thank you for making me a father,” his eyes are glowing like never before. “Thank you for making me the happiest man in the world.”

“You don’t have to thank me, angel.” Your hand finds its way to his cheek to stroke it. “We’ve done this together.”

“I feel so grateful to have you,” he says. “But now that you’ve given birth to Kai, I feel even more grateful. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m so damn lucky that fate made you my soulmate. Life before you felt tasteless. You’re literally my sunshine, and I’m so in love with you. Even more now that I got to witness this incredible moment.”

Something has changed in Jungkook, you can see that although you’re extremely tired and half awake. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but he’s definitely glowing. Tears start forming in your eyes as he pours his heart out for you.

“You’re going to make me cry, Jungkook.” Your hand never stops soothing his cheek.

“Marry me, yn,” he blankly says.

Your eyes widen, your hand instantly halting. Even though you knew it would happen one day, because of the soulmate bond, it catches you by surprise. You didn’t expect to hear those words on the day you’d deliver your son.

You always imagined the proposal to take place a bit later on, maybe in two years or something like that. You thought that it would happen around a romantic moment that Jungkook would have planned weeks before. He would bend down on his knee with a velvety box in his hand, and a beautiful ring would be on display.

“Jungkook…” you whisper. “Did you really just ask me to marry you while I’m floating half-dead and asleep in a tub, and bleeding?”

“There’s no version of you I’d love more than this one.”

You shake your head softly with a little smile on your face. Your boyfriend is being extremely adorable, and you feel so thankful to have him in your life and have him as your baby daddy.

“You should’ve waited,” you begin. “You should’ve waited a least a couple of days or waited until I felt like myself again.”   

“I couldn’t wait, sunshine,” he says, his voice low and steady. “What happened today…. I’ve never seen anything more powerful and more beautiful than you today. You brought our son into this world. You made him.”

He leans in, his lips brushing against your forehead. Your eyes instantly close to savor this moment.  

“Seeing you here after giving birth to our son, it just feels like it’s the right moment. Any other moment won’t ever feel as right as this one. You, looking like a sleepy goddess who just conquered the world, are exactly who I want to annoy for the rest of my life,” he smiles while you open your eyes again to look at him.

Jungkook brings your hand to his lips and presses a kiss against your knuckles, his warm mouth contrasting with the room's cool air.

Your heart swells in your chest, emotions flooding in all at once. You’ve just brought life into the world, and now Jungkook is looking at you like you hung the moon. After everything, after the hours of pain, fear, and wonder, his words wrap around your heart like silk, softening the sharp edges of exhaustion.

And it hits you all over again: this is your person—the one who’s seen every version of you and still chooses you wholeheartedly.

“Marry me. Not because it’s tradition or timing. Not because we had a child. Marry me because you're my home, and because we were written into each other long before we ever met.”

“You’re really going to ask me to marry you while I’m naked, bruised, and leaking all sorts of fluids?” You smile through your exhaustion.

“You make leaking look ethereal,” he grins.

You groan and laugh at once. “God, I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

And he’s right, you don’t. You love him with all your soul. You love him enough to say the one word that makes his whole world stop for a moment.

“Yes.”

His breath catches. He blinks once, twice, then leans in to kiss your temple like you’re the most sacred thing he’s ever touched.

“Say it again,” he murmurs, lips brushing your skin.

“Yes, Jungkook.”

He rests his forehead gently against yours.

“I’m going to spend the rest of my life thanking the moon for you.”

When you open your eyes, you’re graced with the prettiest view you’ve ever got to witnessed. Jungkook is holding Kai tightly in his arms and is rocking him while singing a lullaby. You never knew that you needed this in your life. For a brief moment, his eyes meet yours, and a wide smile appears on his face.

“Mommy is finally awake,” he sings to your son.

Nari stayed the entire night to help you out. It was more than a struggle to stay awake, and you actually fell asleep in the bath while Jungkook was cleaning you. But then, you woke up several times with your son’s cries, and you even started to breastfeed him after several failed attempts.

Jungkook woke up as well and made sure you’d fall asleep right after nourishing your baby. He wanted you to sleep as much as possible because you went through a physically traumatic experience. Your body needs to recover from it, and it starts with getting as much rest as possible. So basically, he was mostly the one taking care of Kai. And you’re absolutely thankful for that.

“She is the most special person in the whole wide world,” he continues. “She’s my lover and your mommy. We are both so lucky to have her.”

You can’t help but smile as you hear him sing. For a moment, your eyes take in the sight in front of you.

Jungkook stands shirtless, his chest rising and falling steadily as he cradles your baby against him. His strong arms cradle Kai with such ease, the quiet strength in his touch wrapped in a tenderness that steals your breath. It’s a contrast so beautiful, it tugs at something deep inside you. His hair is all over the place, and the faint dark circles beneath his eyes tell you everything you need to know—he barely slept last night, too busy taking care of both of you.

This sight feels like a dream you never knew you had. If this is how you’re going to wake up every day from now on, then well, you won the damn lottery. Honestly, you won it when Jungkook entered your life and showed you what true love is. Throughout those past nine months, he stood by your side, braved every storm with you, and held your hand through it all. Kai is lucky to have him as his father.  

“She’s the strongest woman I know,” Jungkook hums softly, his eyes still on Kai. “She brought you into the world with so much courage, and somehow, she still looks like an angel while doing it.”

“I probably look like a wreck,” you laugh lightly, your voice raspy from sleep.

His gaze meets yours, his smile softening. This version of you is one he never saw coming, yet he’s fallen harder than he ever imagined. To him, you're breathtaking. You’ve just brought life into the world, and despite the exhaustion etched into your features, he sees nothing but beauty and power.

“You look like the prettiest wreck.”

That causes your face to warm, and your eyes sting with the sudden wave of emotion. You shift slightly under the covers, your body still aching, but your heart overflowing. The postpartum period won’t be easy, you know that. It’s already quite painful to move in bed, but you have to take it slow. Jungkook is by your side; he even took some time off from his royal duties.

His mother, Jisoo, is actually going to step in to manage everything else while you and Jungkook settle into this new chapter. He won’t be fully stepping away from his duties, but for as long as you need him, you’ll be his only priority. He wants to help you, and he also wants to be a present father for Kai. There’s no way he won’t be present in the first moments of his son’s life.

Jungkook walks over to the bed, still holding Kai, and kneels beside you. Your eyes look down at your baby, who looks absolutely perfect.

“We missed you,” he murmurs.

“I missed you both too,” you whisper, reaching out to trace your finger gently along Kai’s tiny cheek. “I still can’t believe he’s here.”

“Me neither,” Jungkook confesses. “But it feels wonderful to have him here. I don’t want to ever let go of him.”

Your hand moves up to stroke your boyfriend’s cheek, and his eyes instantly flutter shut. His face leans into your palm instinctively, and it feels like your skin is the only anchor he needs. For a moment, neither of you speaks—there’s no need to.

Everything you’ve been through, everything you feel, lives in the quiet between your breaths. You trace the curve of his cheekbone with your thumb, and when his lashes finally lift, his gaze is soft and reverent, like you’re the most sacred thing he’s ever seen.

Your boyfriend then places Kai in your arms before he stands up and sits next to you in bed. Your eyes land on your baby. The most beautiful and perfect being you’ve ever seen. His tiny, round nose reminds you of his father’s. His full cheeks remind you of yours in that portrait your grandparents have. And in all honesty, you feel like your son looks a lot like your mom.

“He’s so perfect,” you whisper while your finger gently traces over his nose.

“He is,” Jungkook whispers near your ear.

Your boyfriend rests his chin on your shoulder, the two of you completely hypnotized by the little life you created together.

“He’s incredibly perfect because he takes a lot after you,” Jungkook’s words echo in your mind. “It almost feels like I didn’t contribute at all in here. He’s just a tiny and mini version of you. And man, that makes him even prettier.”

“He has your nose,” you answer. “And your eyes.”

“Only one,” he smiles.

It’s still so disturbing to have a baby with heterochromia, especially since the colors are extremely different. Red and blue.

“I’m not speaking of the color,” you shake your head. “I’m talking about the shape.”

“Other than that, he just looks like you.”

“I think he looks a lot like my mom,” you admit. “Remember the pictures my grandparents showed us?” Jungkook nods. “When I look at Kai, I see the one taken a couple of hours after my mom was born.”

Now that you said it, Jungkook can’t unsee it. Your son definitely takes after your mom, but your boyfriend is still convinced Kai is a mini version of you.

“But he also looks a lot like you, sunshine. When I look at him, all I see is you.”      

Slowly, Kai opens his eyes. Although it’s weird to see two eye colors, it just suits him. It makes him even more perfect.

“Seems like you’ve decided to shake our world completely, little prince,” Jungkook speaks out loud. “Being a hybrid wasn’t enough,” his finger strokes his cheek. “You also needed to belong to two packs,” he pauses for a bit. “You’re just like your mother.”

“We decided it was about time that things changed over here,” you answer with a bright smile on your face.

Your son’s eyes move from you to Jungkook, and it feels like he recognizes you. And then, out of the blue, you both feel the warmth Kai used to spread while inside you. His strong powers already echo around you, enveloping you in a protective shield.

“This little man is definitely going to change everything,” Jungkook says with evident emotion in his voice. “Look how powerful he already is.”

“He’s the result of bloodlines entwining,” you answer. “He carries the blood of Bloods, Shadows, and humans.”

Kai is living proof that mixing blood isn’t a weakness—it’s a strength. A strength that ancient werewolves tried to suppress. And the more you think about it, the more it seems that those old rules weren’t about protection—they were about fear. Fear of what could happen if bloodlines entwined. Fear of power that couldn’t be controlled. But now, with your birth and Kai’s, that fear looks small. Outdated. Because you both are proof that the bloodlines don’t need to be pure. They need to be united.

“In the end, keeping the bloodline pure only made us weaker,” Jungkook mumbles.

“And Kai is the proof of it.”

Kai’s birth was announced to the entire werewolf world within hours. The birth of the next king was celebrated across continents, and the Shadows bowed to the heir who carries their blood. The moment you heard it, you cried.

News of his heterochromia was also announced, marking him as the first werewolf chosen by two packs. A miracle. A first. His dual heritage surprised everyone, and now you’ll have to figure out what that means for his future. But that can wait.

Right now, all that matters is him. Your son. The tiny miracle you carried, birthed, and now hold in your arms.

Jungkook’s family and your family, meaning Lexi and Felix, are all gathered in the biggest living room of this palace. Instead of having your families come one by one to visit you and meet Kai, you decided to invite them all together. You’ve also done it because it’s going to be the first time humans and werewolves are together in the same room.

You also can’t wait to catch their reaction when they see Kai’s eyes. While pregnant, you explained this eye thing to Lexi and Felix so they wouldn’t be surprised when they meet your son for the first time.

Both you and Jungkook are head over heels over Kai. He’s been crying a lot, sleeping a lot, but he’s absolutely adorable. You’ve never been this happy. This journey as a mother has been going much better than you expected when you decided to get inseminated. Being a mother with a father by your side is even better than being a single mother. You get a shoulder to cry on when it’s too much.

When you and Jungkook enter the room with Kai in his arms, all the heads turn to look at you. A smile grows on their faces. Dohee’s kids aren’t present yet, but they’ll get to meet their cousin later on today. Both Felix and Jisoo take a step closer to lay eyes on their grandchild for the first time. You can see a tear running down Felix’s cheek, and man, it does make you feel emotional.

“Mom, Felix,” Jungkook begins, “this is Kai, your grandson.”

At that moment, Kai opens his eyes as if he knows he has to reveal himself to his family. They both gasp as they see with their own eyes the blue and red in their grandson’s eyes. They are totally aware of it because you told them when announcing your son’s birth. It’s something you couldn’t hide from them.

“It’s impressive,” Felix whispers as he gets closer to run a finger over Kai’s cheek.

It definitely makes you extremely emotional to see him become a grandfather. Kai is so lucky to have him as a grandpa because you know damn well Felix will cover him with so much love. Your son won’t ever get to meet your birth parents, but he’ll grow up with the person you chose to call dad.

“It really is,” Jisoo adds. “This little baby is already so special.”

Your son has been special since the day he was conceived. Born to a king and a hybrid.

“Let me see my nephew,” Lexi rushes to your side.

She holds your hand before squeezing it when she lays eyes on her nephew.

“Damn, he really took after you,” her eyes meet yours. “He’s as beautiful as his mom.”

“For once, you’re acknowledging my good looks,” you tease her.

“And it’ll be the last time,” she smiles. “But you both did a great job with this little munchkin. He’s really handsome.”

As Jungkook’s siblings gather around you as well, Kai suddenly shields you and Jungkook, trying to protect you from your own family. They all feel this invisible energy, even Felix and Lexi, who aren’t werewolves. His family struggles to fight it, and their urges to shift.

“It’s okay, little man,” you whisper as you caress his sweet little face. “They are family.”

It’s weird to feel his protective aura all the time. You’ve never experienced something so strong, but you’re so proud at the same time for creating this powerful person. Experiencing it during your pregnancy is one thing, but it’s a totally different now that he’s out.

“Wow, this little guy isn’t joking,” Mingi says. “He’s only two days old and already displaying his powers.”

Honestly, this scares you as well. Your son might be perceived as a threat, and some people might try to do horrible things to him. The first person that crosses your mind is Yuna. She never accepted his existence because of who you are, and because he’s the son of the man she still loves.

“Don’t worry, sunshine,” Jungkook speaks to you through thoughts. “We’ll protect him no matter what.”

“I know, but what if it’s not enough?” Your eyes look up to meet his.

“He seems to be proving he can protect himself and his loved ones.”

“But he’s so little,” you add.

“Look around, love,” he continues. “All these people love him and will protect him. I totally understand you, but I prefer to believe we will all protect him and never let anyone harm him. I don’t want to think negatively.”

Your eyes look at all the people in this room. You don’t doubt the slightest that they’ll do everything in their power to protect him. Jungkook’s family is one of the strongest in the werewolf world. People don’t really stand a chance against them, and they will most probably not stand one face to this little powerful being. But as a mother, you can only be concerned.  

Jisoo notices that you’re speaking through thoughts, but she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t want to ruin whatever conversation you’re having. But she can tell you’re concerned about something. She guesses that it’s about your son’s strength.  

Slowly, Kai’s protection fades away.

“How can he do that? How can he know who to protect at such a young age?” Hyunjin asks, baffled.

“We’re not entirely sure,” you admit. “We know he recognizes me because I carried him for nine months. Maybe he hasn’t fully realized he’s no longer inside my body.”

“As for me,” Jungkook adds, “we think he recognized my voice, maybe even sensed me through the soulmate bond.”

“We also believe he recognizes us through blood,” you continue. “Like an instinct—he feels that we share the same blood. But that’s just speculation.”

“We read so many books about mixed bloods, and every one of them said something different.”

Felix helped you decipher a few of the more ancient texts. Thanks to his background in old languages, he managed to translate fragments that spoke of blood recognition—that mixed-blooded children can identify their lineage through something deeper than scent or voice. It’s wild to think about, but those same texts claimed their strength is tied to that very connection.

Everything is so uncertain with Kai, but as he grows up, you’re sure you’ll get to understand it better. Kai is unique, and until he has another sibling, no one else will be like him. Since Kai chose to belong to two packs, any possible child you might have will also belong to two packs. It’s something you've gotten to learn through those many ancient books. All mixed-bloods siblings choose the same pack.

“Well, we’ll learn with him,” Jungkook adds. “Kai is different in every possible way, so we’ll figure everything out through him.”

And you already know that it’s going to be a bumpy road. You’re in the dark with him, and you’ll have to navigate parenthood with his uniqueness. For sure, it won’t be easy, but you’ll have Jungkook by your side, and you’ll shower this baby with love. He’s never going to feel different, although he is.

With Felix and Lexi, he’ll learn to embrace his human side. With the Jeon’s family, he’ll learn to embrace his wolf side. With you, he’ll learn to embrace the best of both worlds. And with Jungkook, he’ll learn to embrace his destiny as the next king. Kai is never going to be alone.  

“And we’ll be by your side,” Jisoo says. “He’s never going to be alone with all of us.”

“Let’s not focus on that right now,” Felix says. “He was born two days ago, and we should celebrate him. He’s absolutely adorable,” his eyes look down at his grandson before he caresses his cheek. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, little man. I’ve been waiting for you for over a year now.”

It’s probably been almost two years since you started this insemination journey, and Felix has been there from the very beginning. Nothing went as planned, but in the end, your baby is finally here, which was the original plan. The project was to have a baby, and he’s here.

“I can’t believe I’m an auntie now,” Lexi says. “I’m going to spoil this kid and be the best auntie ever.” Her eyes look at Dohee. “Sorry, I’m just too fabulous.”

You roll your eyes before shaking your head with a smile on your face.

“You’re incorrigible!” you say.

“You’re starting a competition here, Lexi,” Dohee retorts to your sister, “and I’ll smash you. Kai will adore me more than you.”

The two of them are so silly, but you can’t wait to see how it will be once your baby is older. There’s no doubt he’ll love them both so much, although it’ll be different.

“Luckily, he only has paternal uncles and we don’t need to compete with anyone else,” Mingi chuckles.

“You’re all too crazy,” Jisoo says. “You’re going to traumatize this little one.”

“His parents are already doing that,” Hyunjin replies.

“Eeeh,” you say.

Jungkook raises an eyebrow and smirks, rocking Kai gently in his arms. You can already sense that he’s going to say nonsense. It wouldn’t be Jungkook if he didn’t do it. This man always has an answer to all, even if it’s bullshit.

“Excuse you all, but I am clearly his favorite. I’m the one with the good hair,” he says, flipping his hair dramatically like he’s in a shampoo commercial. “He was born obsessed with me.”

The room erupts with laughter, and you shake your head. This man is incredible!

“Delusional,” Lexi fires back.

“Absolutely tragic,” Dohee adds with a snort.

“That’s the sleep deprivation talking,” Mingi says, shaking his head.

“Jealousy isn’t a good look on any of you,” Jungkook shrugs, unbothered. Then he leans in toward Kai, voice soft but teasing: “Don’t worry, little prince, I’ll protect you from your dramatic aunties and uncles.”

After that, you spend the next hour with your family. All of them carried Kai in their arms for a little while. They are all absolutely in love with your little man, like you and Jungkook. Who can’t fall in love with him?

Once they are all gone, you place Kai in the little crib and sit down on the couch. You’re exhausted, dead, and very much sleep deprived, but extremely happy. This family moment filled your heart with so much joy and happiness.

“We did it,” Jungkook says. “We had the little baby we wanted.”

“And we found love in the middle of the journey,” you continue.

“That’s the best part of it all,” he chuckles.

Jungkook gently presses his lips to yours, kissing you with so much passion. Your fingers play with his hair at the nape of his neck while his hands land on your waist.

“Let’s have more handsome babies,” he whispers against your lips.

“Eeeh, give me some time to recover from this birth,” you answer. “And then, I’ll give you as many babies as you want.”

“Really?” his eyes sparkle, and he’s absolutely adorable.

“Yep,” you nod.

Jungkook’s grin grows wider. This man is up to no good. It doesn’t even surprise you because he’s always such a tease. But that’s how you love him so much.

“Dangerous words, sunshine,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing as his fingers brush slow, lazy circles on your waist. “You can’t just offer me a whole army of mini-us and expect me to behave.”

You laugh, your nose brushing his. To be honest, it feels great that nothing has changed between you two despite becoming parents. You were afraid that everything would become different, but except for the part that another person is living in this house, things are pretty much the same with Jungkook.  

“I said after I recover, Mister Drama Queen.”

He leans in closer, his lips grazing the shell of your ear now.

“I’ll try to behave, but no promises. You know what you do to me,” his breath is warm, his tone deliciously suggestive.

Your fingers tug lightly at his hair again, lips curling into a smirk. Of course, you know the effect you have on him, but you have still to recover from this birth. Your kid ripped everything inside you when you were pushing him out of you.

“Behave, or you’ll be sleeping on the couch. And Kai’s sleeping in our bed now, so good luck trying anything, Your Highness.”

Jungkook groans dramatically. It’s definitely weird for the two of you to have a third person in your bed. It feels so small now, but you wouldn’t change a damn thing.

“You’re evil. Beautiful, irresistible… and evil.”

You bite your lip to suppress your smile, fully aware of the effect you have on him.

“Welcome to fatherhood.”

Jungkook rests his head on your shoulder, your hands threading slowly through the softness of his hair, the two of you tangled in this hazy, post-baby bubble. The living room is quiet now, just the soft hum of nighttime settling in like the world itself is holding its breath for you.

“You really are going to make me work for those future babies, huh?” you feel him groan against your shoulder.

You giggle softly, your fingers still gently tangled in his hair.

“Parenthood’s a long game, mister. You better pace yourself.”

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his thumb brushing the apple of your cheek, and suddenly, all the teasing fades. His eyes carry that look again. The same look you always fall in love with.

“I’d wait a lifetime if it means doing all of it with you,” his fingers trace invisible lines on your cheek.

And just like that, something inside you shifts. A rush of memories floods in. Memories of who you both were before this love, before the baby, before the chaos and healing and magic that brought you here. There were days when you weren’t sure you’d ever feel this full. But now, it feels like your heart has stretched to hold two lifetimes at once.

“You’re really trying to charm me right now, aren’t you?”

Jungkook chuckles. “Is it working?”

You lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips.

“Always.”

His arms wrap a little tighter around your waist, pulling you just close enough for your head to rest against his chest. You can hear his heart—steady, strong, and completely yours.

“Then let me be this version of me forever. Just a man in love with his girl and wrapped around her finger.”

You laugh into his neck, comforted by the heat of him, by the home you’ve built in his arms.

“Careful what you wish for, Mr. King. You might end up changing all the diapers.”

“Worth it,” he replies without missing a beat, planting a kiss on your temple. “For you? I’d do it all.”

You smile into his chest, letting yourself melt for just a moment longer. Being in his arms is your safest place. It’s where you belong now. There’s no other place you’d like to be right now. Being with Jungkook was always your destiny, and man, thinking about spending the rest of your life with him feels wonderful.

Very soon, you’ll probably get married, and hopefully, more babies will be added to the mix. You’ll get to witness Jungkook as a father and as your lover, something you’re definitely looking forward to. It feels like you can’t love him even more than you do now, but you know that tomorrow, you’ll love him more than you do today. It has been like that since the day you first met him at the clinic.

That day seems so far away when, in reality, it was nine months ago, but so much has happened since then. You've got to discover yourself. You’ve got to discover the truth behind your parents' relationship and death. You’ve got to meet your grandparents. And you’ve got to meet the love of your life.

Today, you’d like to visit your old self. The ten-year-old version of you who lost her parents. You’d hug her, hold her tight in your arms, and cry with her. You’d tell her that everything will go just fine. You’d describe your life and let her know that, one day, she’d be incredibly happy. Maybe she wouldn’t believe you because of the pain, but she’d eagerly wait for that day to come.

Life didn’t treat you well at some point, and you still have to deal with the pain and emptiness you constantly feel. But today, you have Jungkook and Kai. They won’t for sure heal you and fill that void, but they’ll ease the pain.

In the end, the tragic end of your parents has shaken the whole werewolf universe. Your presence alone changed an ancient law, and one day, you’ll get to wear a crown. One that Jungkook will place on your head. You know that if your parents had the chance to know back then what you’d become, they would have died in total peace. They’d have most probably been proud to know their grandchild would become king.

Kai is the result of many bloodlines entwining together. He’s the result of a love story between a Blood King and a Shadow hybrid, but he’s also the beginning of that love story. Without him, maybe today, you wouldn’t have met Jungkook yet. Maybe you’d even spent years before meeting him. It’s crazy to think that Kai is the reason you’re together today.

As you look at Jungkook and Kai, your heart swells with so much love and pride. A smile grows on your face as you reflect on your life. You reflect on what has been the past thirty years of your life.  

You survived. You loved. And now, you live for all three of you.

[jung-koook]

[485/547] — until we meet again, jungkook ♡

[letsbangts]

mutt || jjk masterlist

⤷ summary: when he’s with you he’s like a dog with a bone

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ word count: 18.8k+ (so far)

18+ // mdni

⟶ genre: friends with benefits au, smut, angst, fluff

⟶ content: fuckboy!jk, tattooartist!jk

⟶ warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, jk is kinda toxic, jk being a bit manipulative, f*ckboy behaviour, more specific warnings will be mentioned in each part

main masterlist ˚.⋆˚.⋆˚.⋆ join my taglist

parts: 2/3

01: mutt ── 6k+

02: answer your phone ── 12.8k+

03: i do

[gukgi]

random gifs of jungkook (18/∞)

[maibearcore]

Seonghwa and Jungkook lol

u can lift it bunny

[gukcnt]

۶ৎ EMBERS OF UNSEEN LOVE —

“You’re my only, Y/N. You’ve always been my only. I’ve spent years watching you, loving you, dreaming of you, and I’ve never wanted anyone else. Not those girls, not anyone. Just you—your heart, your soul, your body, every fucking part of you. I love you the way you are, and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you, making you believe it, until you see yourself the way I see you.”

pairing: dom!jungkook x sub!femreader

genre: brothers bestfriend au, college au, forbidden love, slowburn, unrequited love, pining, friends to lovers, reserved!jungkook, tattoo artist!jungkook, shy insecure!reader, romance, smut, fluff, angst

warnings: 18+, explicit smut, protective!jungkook, obsessed!jungkook, angry!jungkook, hard dom!jungkook, emotional vulnerability, self-doubt and insecurity, body positivity journey, emotional confrontation, argument, angry love confessions, domestic intimacy, avoidance and isolation, tearful moments, affirmations of wrath, confidence growth, he gets a tattoo for her, rejection fears, commitment vows, multiple sex scenes, multiple orgasms, multiple orgasms, oral sex (f. receiving), cunnilingus, eating out, tongue fucking, clit sucking, face riding, face sitting, cum swallowing, fingering, clit stimulation, oral sex (m. receiving), cock sucking and palming, face fucking, hair fisting, making out, hickies/markings, scratching, body worship, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, slight anal play, spanking, rough sex, passionate sex, tender sex, moments of softness and reverence during sex, several worshipping during sex, words of affirmations, praise kink, lots of breast play, nipple play, nipple sucking, he is obsessed with her tits, tit fucking, shower sex, squirting, he cums on her breasts, dirty talk, standing sex, car sex, semi public sex, doggy position, sex against the wall, emotional intimacy during sex, clothed sex, wet sex, quickie vibes, orgasm denial, several aftercare scenes, softest aftercare

wc: 10.8k

part: 01 / 02 / 03 (final)

a/n: i have such a soft spot for this couple especially y/n she went through a lot and deserves all the love she got and i knoww we all deserve a man like jungkook :') but i hope you guys enjoyed this short series, love y'all !

masterlist

۶ৎ

The week following the pool party was a descent into a self-imposed exile, your heart a battlefield of hope and fear, your mind a relentless storm of doubt. You barricaded yourself in your room, the familiar pastel walls and cluttered bookshelves no longer a sanctuary but a cage where your insecurities festered. The memory of Jungkook’s touch—his lips on yours, his hands worshipping your curves, his voice whispering I love you—was a double-edged sword, both a lifeline and a torment. What if it was a mistake? What if his words, spoken in the heat of anger and passion, were just fleeting pity for the girl who’d been humiliated in front of everyone? The mirror in your room, once avoided, became an enemy you couldn’t escape, reflecting back your soft stomach, your thick thighs, your arms that jiggled with every movement—proof, you convinced yourself, that you could never be enough for someone like him.

You ignored his calls, each one a dagger to your heart, the screen of your phone lighting up with his name—Jungkook—followed by texts that piled up, unread but searing in their presence. "Y/N, please talk to me. I miss you. I meant everything I said. Why are you shutting me out?" Each message was a plea, a crack in the armor of the reserved man you’d known for years, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond. The fear of seeing pity in his eyes, of hearing him retract his words, was paralyzing. You deleted voicemails without listening, your fingers trembling, your chest tight with unshed tears, the sound of his voice—low, gravelly, desperate—too much to bear.

You avoided places where you might see him, your routine meticulously altered to erase any chance of crossing paths. The coffee shop near campus, where you’d sometimes spotted him sketching in a corner, was off-limits, its warm aroma of espresso replaced by the instant coffee you brewed in your dorm’s kitchenette, the taste bitter and unsatisfying. The park where Minho played basketball, where Jungkook���s laughter had once carried over the court, was a memory you buried, opting instead for long walks through quieter streets, your earbuds blasting music to drown out your thoughts. Even your own home, once a haven, felt like a minefield. When Minho mentioned Jungkook might stop by, you’d feign a headache, retreating to your room with a book you didn’t read, the words blurring as you strained to hear the front door, praying he wouldn’t come.

One evening, you nearly ran into him at the grocery store, your heart lurching when you spotted his familiar figure—black hoodie, dark jeans, a strand of hair falling over his eyes—pushing a cart down the aisle. You froze, your basket of instant noodles and apples suddenly heavy, your breath catching as you ducked behind a display of canned goods, your pulse racing. He hadn’t seen you, but the sight of him—his broad shoulders, the tattoos peeking from his sleeve, the way his jaw tightened as he scanned the shelves—sent a wave of longing and fear crashing over you. You abandoned your basket, fleeing the store, the cold night air biting your cheeks as you walked home, tears streaming down your face, your heart aching with the weight of what you were running from.

Another time, you saw his motorcycle parked outside Minho’s favorite diner, the sleek black machine gleaming under the streetlights, its curves a stark reminder of its owner. You’d been on your way to meet a study group, but the sight stopped you cold, your feet rooted to the sidewalk, your breath shallow. You imagined him inside, his dark eyes scanning the menu, his fingers drumming restlessly against the table, his rare smile flashing at something Minho said. The thought of facing him, of seeing rejection in his gaze, was unbearable. You turned back, texting your group an excuse, your apartment’s silence a poor substitute for the laughter you’d left behind.

Your avoidance wasn’t just physical—it was emotional, a wall you built brick by brick, each one cemented with doubt. You stopped wearing the emerald dress, shoving it to the back of your closet, its vibrant green a mocking reminder of your failed attempt at confidence. You reverted to baggy clothes—oversized sweaters, loose jeans, anything to hide the body you’d bared to him, the body he’d called perfect but you couldn’t believe deserved his love. Your reflection became a battleground, your mornings spent staring at your flaws, your evenings lost to spiraling thoughts of inadequacy. You told yourself you were protecting your heart, but every ignored call, every avoided place, only deepened the ache, a hollow space where Jungkook’s presence used to be.

But Jungkook wasn’t one to be ignored, not when it came to you. His patience, stretched thin by your silence, finally snapped, his love and frustration a volatile mix that propelled him to your doorstep. It was a Thursday evening, the sky bruised with twilight, the air heavy with the promise of rain. You were in the living room, curled on the couch with a book you weren’t reading, the pages untouched for hours, your mind replaying the pool party, his arms around you, his voice in your ear. The front door burst open, the sound jarring, and there he was—Jeon Jungkook, a storm in human form, his leather jacket slung over his shoulder, his boots scuffed from the night at the pool, his dark hair damp from the mist outside, falling into eyes that blazed with a mix of anger and desperation.

You froze, your book slipping from your lap, your heart lurching as he filled the room, his presence a gravitational force that pulled every ounce of your attention. His cologne—sandalwood, musk, and something uniquely him—wrapped around you, a scent that had haunted your dreams, now painfully real. His chest heaved, his jaw clenched, his tattoos stark against his skin, the wolf on his shoulder seeming to snarl under the dim light. He looked like a predator, fierce and unyielding, but his eyes—those deep, piercing eyes—held a vulnerability that made your breath catch, a raw need that mirrored your own.

“Why are you running from me?” he demanded, his voice a low growl, rough with emotion, as he advanced, backing you against the wall, his hands caging you in, his body close enough to feel the heat radiating from him. His breath was ragged, his eyes dark and stormy, his fingers flexing against the wall, as if it took everything in him not to touch you. “You think you can just walk away after that night? After everything I said? After I poured my fucking heart out to you?”

Your back hit the wall, the cool plaster a stark contrast to the fire in your chest, your hands trembling as you clutched the hem of your oversized sweater, the fabric a shield against his intensity. “I’m not running,” you lied, your voice trembling, your eyes fixed on his chest, unable to meet his gaze, the tattoos peeking from his shirt a distraction from the storm in his eyes. “I just… I thought it was a mistake. That you didn’t mean it. That you only… because you were angry, or you felt sorry for me.”

“A mistake?” he repeated, his voice low and dangerous, a growl that vibrated in your bones, his hands slamming against the wall on either side of your head, making you flinch. His eyes narrowed, his jaw ticking, his breath hot against your face, his anger a living thing that filled the space between you. “You think I’d say I love you, that I’d touch you, fuck you, like it was some kind of fucking mistake? Do you know how long I’ve held back, Y/N? How many years I’ve watched you, wanted you, and kept my distance because I thought I wasn’t good enough for you?”

You flinched at his words, your tears spilling, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it, your hands twisting in your sweater, your nails digging into your palms. “But I’m not… I’m not enough,” you whispered, your voice breaking, your eyes finally meeting his, wide and wet, filled with the pain you’d carried too long. “You saw me that night, Jungkook. You saw what they said, what they think of me. I’m not like those girls. I’m not thin, I’m not pretty, I’m not… I can’t be what you want. You deserve better.”

His eyes darkened, a storm of emotions flashing through them—anger, hurt, love, all tangled together, his hands trembling as they framed your face, his thumbs brushing your tears, his touch gentle despite the fury in his gaze. “Don’t you dare,” he growled, his voice raw, his breath hitching, his eyes burning into yours with an intensity that stole your breath. “Don’t you dare tell me what I deserve, Y/N. I’ve been in love with you for years—fucking years. I’ve seen you, every single day, hiding in those baggy clothes, blushing, tripping over your words, thinking you’re not enough. And every time, it killed me, because to me, you’re everything.”

You sobbed, your tears streaming down your cheeks, his words piercing the walls you’d built, cracking the foundation of your doubt. “But how can you love me?” you choked out, your voice thick with pain, your hands clutching his shirt, desperate for an anchor. “Look at me, Jungkook. I’m not… I’m not beautiful. I’m not like them. I’m just… me. Fat, shy, invisible me.”

His jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with a fierce, almost feral intensity, his hands tightening on your face, his thumbs wiping your tears with a tenderness that belied his anger. “You’re not invisible,” he said, his voice low and fierce, each word a vow. “Not to me. You’ve never been invisible, Y/N. I’ve seen you—every fucking day, every moment. The way you smile when you think no one’s looking, the way you bite your lip when you’re nervous, the way you light up when you talk about your books. I see your heart, your mind, your strength. And your body—fuck, your body, Y/N. Every curve, every inch, it’s fucking perfect to me. You’re a goddess, and I’m obsessed with you.”

You shook your head, your sobs wracking you, your insecurities screaming that he was lying, that this was too good to be true. “But what if you change your mind?” you whispered, your voice small, your eyes searching his, desperate for reassurance. “What if you wake up one day and realize I’m not enough? That you could have someone better, someone prettier, someone who doesn’t… who doesn’t hate themselves?”

His eyes softened, the anger giving way to a raw, aching tenderness, his hands sliding to your shoulders, pulling you into his chest, his arms wrapping around you, strong and unyielding. “I’m never going to change my mind,” he said, his voice breaking, his lips brushing your hair, his breath warm against your scalp. “You’re my only, Y/N. You’ve always been my only. I’ve spent years watching you, loving you, dreaming of you, and I’ve never wanted anyone else. Not those girls, not anyone. Just you—your heart, your soul, your body, every fucking part of you. I love you the way you are, and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you, making you believe it, until you see yourself the way I see you.”

You broke, your sobs muffled against his chest, your hands fisting his shirt, the warmth of him grounding you, his heartbeat a steady rhythm under your cheek. His arms tightened, his lips pressing to your forehead, your temple, your cheek, soft and reverent, each kiss a promise, a vow. “You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice raw, his hands stroking your back, your hair, his touch a lifeline. “And I’m yours, Y/N. I’ve always been yours. Don’t you dare run from me again, because I can’t fucking take it. I need you. I love you.”

You pulled back, your eyes red and swollen, your breath shaky, but his words had cracked something open in you, a flicker of hope you couldn’t extinguish. “You really mean it?” you asked, your voice trembling, your hands still clutching his shirt, your eyes searching his, needing the truth.

“Yes,” he said, his voice firm, his eyes fierce and soft, his hands cupping your face, his thumbs brushing your lips, your cheeks, his gaze unwavering. “I mean every fucking word. I love you, Y/N. I love your mind, your heart, your laugh, your blush, your curves—everything. I’ve seen you, all these years, and I’ve never stopped wanting you. You’re my home, my everything. And I’ll fight for you, every day, until you believe you’re enough—because to me, you’re more than enough. You’re my fucking world.”

You sobbed, your heart swelling, your doubts crumbling under the weight of his love, his conviction. He pulled you closer, his lips crashing into yours, the kiss fierce and desperate, a collision of need and love, his tongue sweeping against yours, his hands roaming your body, claiming you with every touch. His fingers dug into your hips, pulling you flush against him, the hardness of him pressing through his jeans, a reminder of the night you’d shared, the passion you’d ignited. The kiss was messy, teeth clashing, breaths mingling, your tears mixing with his, a raw, unfiltered expression of everything you’d both held back for years.

“Don’t ever shut me out again,” he growled against your lips, his voice rough, his hands tightening, his eyes blazing with a mix of love and frustration. “You hear me, Y/N? I can’t fucking lose you. I won’t. You’re mine, and I’m not letting you hide from this, from us. I love you, and I’ll keep saying it, keep showing you, until you believe it, until you see the woman I see—the most beautiful, incredible, fucking perfect woman I’ve ever known.”

You nodded, your tears falling, your heart open, raw, and his, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, needing the anchor of his touch, his words, his love. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice breaking, your lips brushing his, your breath shaky. “I was scared. I didn’t think… I didn’t think I could be what you wanted.”

“You’re everything I want,” he said, his voice fierce, his eyes locking onto yours, his hands framing your face, his thumbs wiping your tears. “Everything, Y/N. I’ve spent years holding back, watching you, loving you, and I’m done hiding. I want you—now, tomorrow, always. Just the way you are. Don’t you dare doubt that, because I’ll never stop proving it to you.”

The kiss softened, his lips lingering, his hands stroking your cheeks, your neck, your shoulders, a promise in every touch. You melted into him, your doubts quieted, your heart full, his love a shield against the world, against yourself. For the first time, you believed him, trusted his words, saw yourself through his eyes—a woman worthy of love, of him, of everything he offered. And in that moment, you knew you’d never run again, not from him, not from the love that had been waiting for you all along.

The air in your bedroom was thick with anticipation, the faint scent of your lavender candles mingling with the musk of Jungkook’s cologne—sandalwood, cedar, and something darker, primal, that clung to your senses like a second skin. The door clicked shut behind him, the lock snapping into place with a sound that echoed in the quiet, sealing you both in a world where nothing else existed. The dim glow of your bedside lamp cast soft shadows across the room, painting the walls in hues of amber and gold, the light catching the sharp angles of Jungkook’s face—his high cheekbones, the strong line of his jaw, the faint scar above his eyebrow that you’d memorized years ago. His dark eyes burned with a mix of anger and desire, his bare chest heaving, the tattoos on his skin—a wolf snarling on his shoulder, a constellation of stars across his ribs, a crescent moon above his heart—glistening with a sheen of sweat, each line of ink a story you longed to trace.

You stood before him, your heart pounding, your body trembling under the weight of his gaze. His leather jacket lay discarded on the floor, his boots scuffed from the night at the pool, his jeans tight against his thighs, the bulge of his arousal unmistakable. He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, a storm contained in human form, and you felt the heat of him before he even touched you, his breath warm and ragged, his eyes raking over you like a predator sizing up its prey. But there was tenderness there, too, a softness that made your chest ache, a love that threatened to unravel you.

His hands slamming against the wall on either side of your head, making you jump. His eyes blazed, dark and fierce, his jaw clenched so tightly you could see the muscle ticking, his lips curling into a snarl. “Y/N, I’ve been in love with you since the moment I saw you. You were fourteen, sitting on that damn couch with your book, your cheeks all pink, your eyes so big and shy. I walked into your house, and it was like the world stopped. I knew I was fucked, because you were Minho’s little sister, and I was just some punk kid who didn’t deserve you. But I couldn’t stop wanting you. Every time you’d hide in your room, every time you’d blush and stumble over your words, I fell harder. And you think that was a mistake?”

You sobbed, your tears spilling over, your heart cracking open under the weight of his confession, the rawness of his voice cutting through your doubts like a blade. “Jungkook,” you choked, your hands reaching for him, clutching his arms, your fingers digging into the hard muscle, the warmth of his skin grounding you. “I—I loved you too. From that first day. I was so scared, because I wasn’t pretty, I wasn’t… I wasn’t enough. I hid because I thought you’d never see me, not like that. I thought you’d never want me.”

“Never want you?” he repeated, his voice breaking, his hands cupping your face, his thumbs brushing away your tears, his touch warm and steady, his eyes softening even as they burned. “Y/N, you’re all I’ve ever wanted. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen—your heart, your mind, your body, every fucking inch of you. I’ve spent years trying to stay away, trying to be good, but I can’t anymore. I’m done pretending I don’t need you.”

You broke, your sobs wracking you, and he pulled you into his arms, his lips crashing into yours, the kiss fierce and desperate, a collision of years of pent-up longing. His mouth was hot, demanding, his tongue sweeping against yours, tasting of mint and the faint tang of the beer he’d had earlier, his teeth grazing your lower lip, drawing a moan from your throat. His hands roamed, sliding under your T-shirt, his fingers rough and calloused from his tattoo gun, tracing the soft curve of your waist, the dip of your spine, the fullness of your hips, his touch reverent yet possessive, like he was claiming every inch of you.

“Take this off,” he murmured against your lips, his voice a low command, his hands tugging at your shirt, his eyes dark with need. You hesitated, your insecurities flaring, but he pulled back, his gaze locking onto yours, fierce and unyielding. “Don’t hide from me, Y/N. You’re mine, and I want to see you. All of you.”

You nodded, your breath hitching, and lifted your arms, letting him pull the shirt over your head, baring your body to him—your full breasts, the soft swell of your stomach, the thick curves of your thighs, the glistening heat between your legs. His eyes darkened, his breath catching, his hands trembling as he took you in, his cock straining against his jeans, the sight making your mouth water, your core aching with need.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his voice thick with awe, his hands reaching for you, his fingers tracing the outline of your breasts, the curve of your hips, the dip of your navel, his touch worshipful, his eyes blazing with obsession. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N. I’m fucking obsessed with you. Every curve, every inch—I’ve dreamed of this, of you, for so fucking long.”

He knelt before you, his hands gripping your hips, his lips brushing your stomach, kissing the soft skin, his breath hot and ragged, his stubble grazing you, sending shivers through your body. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice rough, his hands kneading your ass, his lips trailing lower, kissing the tops of your thighs, the sensitive skin near your core. “You’re a fucking goddess, Y/N. Don’t you ever doubt that. Those girls—they’re nothing. They’ll never be you. They’ll never fucking compare.”

You blushed, your insecurities flaring, but his hands held you firm, his eyes fierce, his lips curling into a predatory smile. “Don’t hide,” he growled, his voice a command wrapped in a plea, his hands spreading your thighs, his gaze fixed on your throbbing core, wet and aching for him. “You’re mine, Y/N. Let me worship you. Let me make you feel how fucking perfect you are.”

He pulled you to the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight, the sheets cool against your heated skin, the air thick with the scent of your arousal, his cologne, the faint musk of sweat. He guided you to straddle his face, his hands firm on your hips, his eyes blazing with hunger, his breath hot against your core. You hesitated, your insecurities screaming—your weight, your curves, the fear of being too much—but he growled, his voice rough, his hands digging into your flesh, leaving faint marks.

“Sit, baby,” he commanded, his voice a low rumble, his eyes dark and fierce, his lips curling into a smirk. “I want all of you. Every fucking inch. Give me everything, Y/N. Don’t you dare hold back.”

You lowered yourself, your thighs trembling, your breath hitching as his tongue found you, hot and wet, lapping at your folds with a hunger that made you gasp, your hands gripping the headboard, the wood smooth and cool under your palms. His tongue was relentless, broad strokes followed by sharp flicks, circling your clit, sucking gently, the suction making your toes curl, your hips bucking involuntarily. His hands kneaded your ass, his fingers digging in, guiding your movements, urging you to grind against his face, his moans vibrating against your core, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure through you.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he groaned, his voice muffled, his tongue delving deeper, licking into you, the wet heat of his mouth overwhelming. His stubble grazed your sensitive skin, the slight burn adding to the intensity, his nose brushing your clit as he buried his face in you, his breath hot and ragged, his eyes locked on yours, watching you unravel. “So fucking sweet, Y/N. I could eat you forever. Come on, baby, ride my face. Use me.”

You did, your hips rolling, your thighs trembling, your hands fisting his hair, the dark strands soft and thick between your fingers, his scalp warm under your touch. His tongue worked you with a skill that made your head spin, alternating between slow, deliberate licks and rapid flicks, his lips sucking your clit, the pressure building, sharp and electric. His fingers joined, two sliding inside you, curling just right, hitting that spot that made you cry out, your walls clenching around him, the stretch and pressure driving you wild.

“Jungkook,” you moaned, your voice breaking, your head tipping back, your body shaking, the pleasure a tidal wave threatening to drown you. “I—I can’t—oh my God—”

“Yes, you can,” he growled, his voice rough, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you down harder, his tongue relentless, his fingers pumping, the wet sounds of your arousal filling the room, obscene and intoxicating. “Give it to me, baby. Let go. I want you to fucking squirt for me, Y/N. I want to taste every fucking drop.”

His words pushed you over the edge, the pressure snapping, your orgasm crashing through you, a white-hot wave that left you trembling, your cries loud and desperate, your body shuddering as you came, hard and wet, your release gushing against his tongue, soaking his face. He groaned, his moans primal, his tongue lapping at you, drinking you in, his hands holding you steady, his eyes blazing with obsession, his lips glistening with your essence.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he rasped, his voice thick with awe, his tongue still licking, slower now, coaxing every last shudder from you, his hands stroking your thighs, your ass, his touch reverent. “You’re so fucking perfect, Y/N. So fucking mine.”

You were panting, your body trembling, your core oversensitive, but he didn’t stop, his lips kissing your thighs, your stomach, your breasts, his hands worshipping every inch, his touch a mix of reverence and possession. He pulled you down, his lips crashing into yours, the kiss messy and hungry, letting you taste yourself, the tang of your release mingling with his minty breath, his tongue claiming you all over again.

“On your knees,” he murmured, his voice a low command, his eyes dark with need, his hands guiding you to the floor, the carpet soft under your knees, the air cool against your heated skin. “I want your mouth, baby. Show me how much you want me.”

You hesitated, your insecurities flaring, but his hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks, his eyes softening, his voice a velvet caress. “You’re perfect,” he said, his voice firm, his eyes fierce and adoring. “You can do this, Y/N. I’ve dreamed of your lips around me, of you taking me. Please, baby.”

You nodded, your breath hitching, your hands reaching for him, tugging at his jeans, the denim rough under your fingers, the zipper cool and metallic. He helped you, shedding his jeans and boxers, his cock springing free—thick, hard, the tip glistening with precum, the veins prominent, the sight making your mouth water, your core clenching with need. He was big, bigger than you’d imagined, the length and girth intimidating, but the want in his eyes, the love in his touch, gave you courage.

You wrapped your hand around him, the heat of him searing, the skin velvet-soft over steel, pulsing under your touch. He groaned, his head tipping back, his hands fisting in your hair, the strands soft and thick, his grip firm but gentle. “Fuck, Y/N,” he rasped, his voice thick, his hips twitching as you stroked him, slow and deliberate, your thumb brushing the tip, spreading the precum, the slickness making your movements smoother.

You leaned forward, your breath hot against him, your lips brushing the tip, tasting the salt of him, the musk of his arousal heady and intoxicating. You took him into your mouth, slow and tentative, your tongue swirling around the head, the texture smooth and warm, the taste of him overwhelming. He groaned, his hands tightening in your hair, his hips rocking slightly, urging you deeper.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he groaned, his voice rough, his eyes locked on yours, watching you take him, his cock stretching your lips, the weight of him heavy on your tongue. “Take it slow, Y/N. You’re doing so fucking good. So fucking perfect.”

You relaxed your throat, taking him deeper, your lips sliding down his length, the stretch making your jaw ache, the taste of him filling your senses, his groans spurring you on. You bobbed your head, your tongue licking the underside, your hand stroking what your mouth couldn’t take, the wet sounds of your movements mingling with his moans, the air thick with desire. His hips rocked, slow and controlled, his hands guiding you, his fingers tangling in your hair, his breath ragged.

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re killing me,” he groaned, his voice breaking, his eyes dark with need, his cock twitching in your mouth, the heat of him overwhelming. “Your mouth—fuck, it’s so fucking perfect. I’ve wanted this for so long.”

You hummed, the vibration making him shudder, his hands tightening, his control fraying. He pulled you off, his cock glistening with your saliva, his breath ragged, his eyes blazing. “Not yet,” he rasped, his voice thick, his hands cupping your face, pulling you up to kiss you, the kiss messy and desperate, his tongue tasting himself on you, his groans primal.

He guided you to the bed, his hands firm but gentle, laying you on your back, the sheets cool against your heated skin, the mattress dipping under his weight. He climbed over you, his lips crashing into yours, the kiss hungry, his hands roaming, worshipping your curves—your full breasts, the soft swell of your stomach, the thick curves of your thighs, his fingers digging in, leaving faint marks, his touch possessive yet reverent.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his voice rough, his lips trailing down your neck, kissing the hollow of your throat, his stubble grazing your skin, sending shivers through you. “I’m fucking obsessed with you, Y/N. Every curve, every inch—I want to memorize you, taste you, fuck you until you know you’re mine.”

He kissed your breasts, his lips hot and wet, his tongue swirling around your nipple, the sensation sharp and electric, making you gasp, your hands fisting the sheets, the cotton soft and cool under your palms. He sucked gently, his teeth grazing, the slight pain mingling with pleasure, his hand kneading your other breast, his thumb brushing your nipple, making you arch into him.

“Jungkook,” you moaned, your voice needy, your core aching, your thighs pressing together, seeking friction. He growled, his hand sliding between your legs, his fingers brushing your folds, finding you wet and throbbing, the slickness coating his fingers, making him groan.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he rasped, his voice thick, his fingers circling your clit, the pressure making you gasp, your hips bucking. “All for me, baby. You’re fucking dripping for me.”

He moved lower, kissing your stomach, his lips lingering on the soft skin, his hands spreading your thighs, his eyes fixed on your core, glistening and ready. “I’m not done with you,” he murmured, his voice a low growl, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you to the edge of the bed. “I want you to ride me, Y/N. I want to feel you, see you, fucking take you.”

He lay back, his cock hard and ready, the sight making your breath catch, your core clenching with need. He guided you to straddle him, his hands firm on your hips, his eyes dark with hunger, his breath ragged. “Come here, baby,” he said, his voice a low command, his hands helping you position yourself, his cock brushing your entrance, the heat of him making you shiver. “Ride me. Show me how fucking perfect you are.”

You sank onto him, the stretch intense, a delicious burn that made you gasp, your walls clenching around him, the fullness overwhelming. He groaned, his hands gripping your hips, his fingers digging in, leaving faint marks, his head tipping back, his eyes half-lidded, his tattoos stark against his skin. “Fuck, Y/N,” he rasped, his voice thick, his hips rocking up to meet you, the friction sparking pleasure with every move. “You feel so fucking good. So fucking tight.”

You braced your hands on his chest, feeling the flex of his muscles, the heat of his skin, the crescent moon tattoo under your palm, the ink warm and alive. You moved, slow at first, your hips rolling, finding a rhythm, the pleasure building, sharp and electric. His cock filled you, hitting deep, the angle perfect, each thrust sending sparks through your body, your moans mingling with his groans, the air thick with the scent of sex, sweat, and desire.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he groaned, his voice breaking, his hands roaming, cupping your breasts, kneading your ass, his fingers digging in, possessive and reverent. “Look at you, taking me so fucking well. You’re a fucking goddess, Y/N. I’m fucking obsessed with you.”

His words drove you wild, your confidence blooming, your insecurities fading under his worship, his love. You leaned forward, your lips crashing into his, the kiss desperate, your tongues tangling, your teeth grazing, your breaths mingling. His hands gripped your ass, guiding your movements, his hips thrusting up, harder, deeper, the friction and Your body responded, your walls clenching around him, the pleasure building, sharp and overwhelming, your moans loud and desperate.

“Jungkook,” you gasped, your voice breaking, your nails digging into his chest, leaving faint marks, your hips grinding, the friction intense, the pressure coiling tight. “I’m close—oh my God—”

“Not yet,” he growled, his voice rough, his hands gripping your hips, flipping you onto your back, his movements swift and controlled, his cock never leaving you, the stretch and fullness making you cry out. He loomed over you, his eyes dark with need, his tattoos glistening, his muscles flexing, his breath ragged. “I’m not done with you, Y/N. You’re mine, and I’m gonna make you come so fucking hard you’ll never doubt me again.”

He thrust into you, hard and deep, the pace relentless, each movement precise, hitting that spot inside you that made you see stars, the pleasure a tidal wave, your body trembling, your cries loud and desperate. His hand slipped between you, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles, the pressure perfect, the sensation pushing you to the edge.

“Come for me, baby,” he growled, his voice rough, his eyes locked on yours, his cock driving into you, his fingers relentless, his breath hot against your ear. “Let me feel you. Let me feel how fucking perfect you are. You’re mine, Y/N. Fucking mine.”

You shattered, your orgasm crashing through you, a white-hot wave that left you trembling, your walls pulsing around him, your cries loud and desperate, your body shaking, your vision blurring. He groaned, his hips stuttering, his own release following, hot and deep, his cock pulsing, spilling inside you, his breath ragged, his hands gripping you, his body trembling, his eyes soft and fierce.

But he wasn’t done. He pulled you up, his hands firm, his eyes blazing, his cock still hard, glistening with your combined release. “You’re not leaving me again,” he growled, his voice thick with anger, his hands gripping your ass, delivering a sharp spank, the sting making you gasp, your core clenching, the pleasure-pain sparking new desire. “You hear me, Y/N? You’re mine. You don’t get to run, you don’t get to doubt me. I fucking love you, and I’ll spank you every fucking day if that’s what it takes to make you believe it.”

“Jungkook,” you moaned, your voice needy, your body responding, your core aching, your thighs trembling. “I’m sorry—I love you—I won’t—”

“You’re damn right you won’t,” he growled, his hands gripping your hips, guiding you back onto his cock, the stretch intense, the fullness overwhelming, the pleasure building again, sharp and electric. “Ride me again, baby. Show me you’re mine. Show me you fucking love me.”

You did, your hips rolling, your hands bracing against his chest, the crescent moon tattoo under your palm, the ink warm and alive, his muscles flexing, his skin hot and slick. You rode him, hard and fast, your moans loud and desperate, your body trembling, the pleasure a tidal wave, his groans spurring you on, his hands gripping your ass, delivering another spank, the sting making you cry out, your core clenching, the pleasure-pain driving you wild.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect,” he groaned, his voice breaking, his eyes locked on yours, his hands roaming, worshipping your curves, his fingers digging in, possessive and reverent. “I’ve loved you since I saw you, Y/N. You were a kid, and I was a fucking mess, but I knew you were it for me. Every time you’d hide, every time you’d blush, I fell harder. I’m fucking obsessed with you, and I’ll never let you go.”

“I love you,” you sobbed, your voice breaking, your tears spilling, your heart full, your body trembling, the pleasure overwhelming. “I’ve always loved you, Jungkook. From that first day, when you walked in, and I couldn’t breathe. I was so scared, but I wanted you so bad. I’m yours—always.”

He groaned, his hands gripping you, his hips thrusting up, hard and deep, his cock hitting that spot, the pleasure a tidal wave, your cries loud and desperate. “You’re mine,” he growled, his voice rough, his eyes fierce, his hands spanking you again, the sting sharp and sweet, your core clenching, the pleasure-pain pushing you over the edge. “Fucking mine, Y/N. Come for me again. Show me you’re mine.”

You did, your orgasm crashing through you, a white-hot wave that left you trembling, your walls pulsing around him, your cries loud and desperate, your body shaking, your vision blurring, your release gushing, soaking him, the sensation overwhelming. He groaned, his hips stuttering, his own release following, hot and deep, his cock pulsing, spilling inside you, his breath ragged, his hands gripping you, his body trembling, his eyes soft and fierce.

You collapsed onto him, your breaths heavy, your bodies slick with sweat, your hearts pounding as one, the air thick with the scent of sex, sweat, and love. He pulled you close, his lips brushing your forehead, your cheek, your lips, soft and reverent, his hands stroking your hair, your back, your curves, his touch gentle, his love palpable.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice raw, his eyes soft, his hands framing your face, his thumbs brushing your tears. “I’m never letting you go, Y/N. You’re my fucking world. Every curve, every flaw you think you have—it’s all mine, and I fucking love it.”

You melted into him, your heart full, your insecurities silenced, your body sated, your soul safe. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice soft, your hands cupping his face, your thumbs brushing his scar, his stubble, his lips. “I’m yours, Jungkook. Always.”

He kissed you, slow and deep, the kiss a vow, a promise, a love that burned bright, unyielding, eternal. You lay together, tangled in each other, the world fading, your bodies entwined, your hearts one, the crescent moon tattoo under your palm a reminder of the love that had always been, the love that would always be.

The days that followed the night at the pool party were a radiant tapestry woven with love, trust, and a newfound sense of self. The air in your world seemed to shimmer with possibility, each moment with Jungkook a brushstroke of color against the canvas of your life. Your modest home on Maple Street, with its creaky floors and lavender-scented air, became a sanctuary for your blossoming relationship, its walls now holding the echoes of whispered confessions and tender laughter. The oak tree outside your window stood as a silent witness to your transformation, its leaves rustling in the warm April breeze, a soft symphony that underscored your days with Jungkook.

Jungkook was a constant, a grounding force, his presence a warm anchor in the sea of your insecurities. He moved through your life with quiet intensity, his dark eyes always watching, always adoring, his tattooed hands reaching for you with a reverence that made your heart ache. His scent—sandalwood, musk, and something uniquely him—clung to your skin, your clothes, your bed, a reminder of his claim on you, body and soul. His voice, low and gravelly, was a melody you never tired of, whether he was murmuring sweet nothings or growling with need, each word a vow etched into your heart.

Your mornings began with him, his arms wrapped around you, his breath warm against your neck as you woke in the soft cocoon of your bed. The sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting golden patterns across his bare chest, his tattoos—a wolf on his shoulder, stars on his ribs, a crescent moon above his heart—gleaming in the light. His dark hair was always mussed from sleep, falling into his eyes, and you’d brush it back, your fingers lingering on the sharp line of his jaw, the faint stubble that prickled your skin. He’d smile, that rare, boyish smile that made your stomach flip, and pull you closer, his lips brushing your forehead, your cheek, your lips, soft and languid, a promise of forever.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he’d murmur, his voice thick with sleep, his eyes soft and fierce as they traced your face, your curves, the soft swell of your breasts beneath the thin nightie you’d taken to wearing. “Every morning, I wake up and can’t believe you’re mine.”

You’d blush, your cheeks warming, but the doubt that once would have spiraled was gone, replaced by a quiet confidence born of his love. You saw yourself through his eyes now—a goddess, a treasure, a woman worthy of adoration. Your body, once a source of shame, was now a canvas he worshipped, your curves a map he traced with his hands, his lips, his heart. Your hips, your thighs, your soft stomach—they were his obsession, his sanctuary, and he never let you forget it.

One morning, you stood in the kitchen, the air thick with the scent of coffee and sizzling bacon, your hair loose around your shoulders, a silky nightie hugging your curves, its hem barely brushing your thighs. You were trying to eat less, a habit you’d slipped into without thinking, your plate holding only a single slice of toast, a secret attempt to control what you still sometimes saw as flaws. Jungkook noticed immediately, his eyes narrowing as he leaned against the counter, his black tank top clinging to his muscled frame, his tattoos stark in the morning light.

“What’s this?” he asked, his voice low, a dangerous edge to it as he gestured to your plate, his jaw tightening. “Where’s the rest of your breakfast, Y/N?”

You froze, your heart stuttering, your fingers tightening around the mug of coffee. “I… I’m not that hungry,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze, your cheeks flushing with guilt.

He crossed the room in two strides, his boots heavy on the hardwood floor, his hand cupping your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. They were dark, blazing with a mix of anger and love, his breath hot against your face. “Don’t fucking do that,” he said, his voice rough, his thumb brushing your lip, firm but gentle. “Don’t starve yourself, Y/N. You think I don’t notice? You think I don’t see you trying to hide, to make yourself smaller? You’re perfect the way you are, and I won’t let you hurt yourself trying to be something you’re not.”

Tears pricked your eyes, not from fear but from the intensity of his love, the way he saw you so clearly, even when you faltered. “I just… I thought—” you started, but he cut you off, his lips crashing into yours, the kiss fierce and claiming, his hands sliding to your hips, pulling you against him, the heat of him grounding you.

“You thought wrong,” he growled against your lips, his voice thick with emotion, his hands gripping your curves, kneading the soft flesh of your hips, your ass. “I love every inch of you, Y/N. Your curves, your body, your fucking soul. You don’t get to hide from me, not ever. You’re going to eat, and you’re going to let me love you, all of you. Understand?”

You nodded, your tears falling, your heart swelling with love, with trust. He kissed you again, softer this time, his hands roaming your body, worshipping your curves, his touch a reminder of his obsession, his need. He sat you down, piling your plate with eggs, bacon, and fruit, his eyes never leaving you as you ate, his hand resting on your thigh, warm and possessive. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice softening, his lips brushing your temple. “That’s my girl.”

Jungkook’s love was a fire, fierce and unyielding, burning away the last remnants of your insecurities. He took you to his tattoo shop one evening, the air thick with the scent of ink and antiseptic, the hum of needles a low backdrop to the music playing softly—something dark and soulful, like his voice. The shop was his sanctuary, its walls lined with sketches, vibrant designs, and framed photos of his work, the space a reflection of his soul. He showed you his latest piece, a delicate crescent moon intertwined with roses, its lines sharp and fluid, a symbol of beauty and strength.

“It’s for you,” he said, his voice low, his eyes soft as he traced the sketch with his finger, his tattoos flexing with the movement. “I see you in it—fierce, beautiful, unapologetic. Will you let me ink it on you one day?”

You blushed, your heart racing, the idea of his art on your skin, his hands marking you, thrilling and intimate. “Maybe,” you said, your voice shy, but your smile was genuine, your confidence blooming under his gaze. He pulled you into his lap, his hands settling on your hips, his lips brushing your neck, the stubble on his jaw prickling your skin, sending shivers through you.

“You’re my masterpiece, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble, his hands sliding under your top, tracing the curve of your waist, the soft swell of your stomach. “Every curve, every line—it’s fucking art. I’m obsessed with you.”

You kissed him, your hands tangling in his hair, the kiss deepening, hungry and slow, the world fading until it was just you and him, your bodies pressed close, your hearts beating as one. He lifted you onto the counter, his hands roaming, his lips worshipping your neck, your collarbone, his breath hot and ragged. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice raw, his eyes fierce and soft, his hands gripping you like you were his lifeline. “I’ll never stop loving you.”

Your wardrobe began to shift, a reflection of your growing confidence, your love for yourself mirroring his love for you. You wore tops that hugged your curves, dresses that accentuated your hips, your waist, your breasts, the fabrics soft and vibrant, a celebration of your body. Jungkook’s eyes would darken every time you stepped out in something new, his gaze raking over you, his jaw clenching, his hands flexing with need. “Fuck, baby,” he’d say, his voice thick, his eyes blazing. “You’re trying to kill me.”

One evening, you wore a tight, sleeveless red dress, its fabric clinging to your curves, the neckline plunging to reveal the soft swell of your breasts, your nipples hardening in the cool air. You’d barely stepped into the living room of Jungkook’s apartment, the air thick with the scent of takeout and his cologne—sandalwood and musk, a heady mix that made your pulse race—when he was on you, his hands gripping your hips, his lips crashing into yours, the kiss desperate and hungry, his tongue sweeping against yours, a dance of raw need.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he growled, his voice thick, his eyes raking over you, dark and predatory, his jaw clenching as he took in the dress, the way it hugged every curve. “This dress—you’re fucking unreal. I can’t keep my hands off you.”

You laughed, breathless, your hands tangling in his dark hair, your body arching into him, the heat of his muscled frame overwhelming. “I just wanted to look nice,” you teased, but your voice was needy, your thighs clenching with want, the air between you electric.

“Nice?” he scoffed, his eyes blazing with desire, his hands sliding under the dress, his fingers grazing your bare skin, finding you wet and ready, your lack of underwear making him groan. “You’re a fucking goddess, and you know it. You’re mine, Y/N, and I’m going to fuck you right here, right now.”

He spun you around, pressing you against the living room wall, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat of his body as he caged you in, his chest flush against your back. His hands hiked up your dress, bunching it around your waist, his fingers digging into your hips, the soft flesh yielding under his grip. You gasped, your palms flat against the wall, your heart pounding as he nudged your legs apart, his cock—thick and hard, freed from his jeans—brushing against your entrance, the tip slick with precum.

“Fuck, look at this ass,” he groaned, his voice rough, his hand kneading your curves, his breath hot against your neck, the stubble on his jaw scraping your skin, a delicious burn. “You’re so fucking perfect, Y/N. I’m obsessed with every inch of you.”

He thrust into you, slow and deep, the stretch intense, a delicious burn that made you moan, your walls clenching around him, wet and tight. The sensation was overwhelming, his cock filling you, the friction sparking pleasure with every movement, his hips rocking against your ass, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you back to meet his thrusts, each one harder, deeper, his groans low and primal, his breath ragged.

“Jungkook,” you gasped, your voice breaking, your nails scraping the wall, your body trembling as he fucked you from behind, his pace relentless, his cock hitting a spot inside you that made you see stars. “It feels so good.”

“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice thick with need, his lips brushing your ear, his teeth grazing your lobe, sending shivers through you. “This body, these curves—fuck, I love how you feel. So fucking perfect. I’m never letting you go.”

The pleasure built, sharp and electric, your moans mingling with his groans, the room a symphony of your bodies, the scent of sex and sweat heavy in the air. His hand slid around, finding your clit, rubbing tight circles, the pressure pushing you to the edge, your legs shaking, your breath hitching. “Come for me, baby,” he rasped, his voice rough, his thrusts unrelenting. “Let me feel you, Y/N. Fucking come on my cock.”

You shattered, your orgasm crashing over you, a white-hot wave that left you trembling, your walls pulsing around him, your cries loud and desperate, your body shaking as he fucked you through it, his thrusts never slowing, drawing every last spark from you. He followed, his hips stuttering, a low groan escaping him as he spilled inside you, hot and deep, his hands gripping you, his body trembling, his breath ragged against your neck.

He held you there, still buried inside you, his arms wrapping around you, his lips brushing your shoulder, soft and reverent. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice raw, his hands stroking your curves, his touch a reminder of his obsession, his love. “You’re my fucking everything, Y/N.”

Jungkook’s protectiveness extended beyond the bedroom, his love a constant shield against the world. He noticed everything—every skipped meal, every moment of doubt, every flicker of insecurity—and he was relentless in his mission to make you see yourself as he did. One afternoon, you sat at a café, the air thick with the scent of espresso and pastries, your plate holding only a small salad, your attempt to eat less a reflex you hadn’t fully shaken. Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening, his hand resting on your thigh, warm and possessive under the table.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low, a warning edge to it, his eyes dark and fierce. “What’s this? You think you’re going to starve yourself on my watch?”

You blushed, your heart stuttering, your fingers twisting in your lap. “I just… I wasn’t that hungry,” you mumbled, but his hand cupped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze, his eyes blazing with love and anger.

“Don’t lie to me,” he said, his voice rough, his thumb brushing your lip, firm but gentle. “You’re fucking perfect, Y/N. Your body, your curves—they’re mine to worship, and I won’t let you hurt yourself trying to be something you’re not. You’re going to eat, and you’re going to enjoy it, because you deserve it. You deserve everything.”

Tears pricked your eyes, your heart swelling, his words sinking into you, warm and heavy. He ordered a plate of your favorite—pasta with creamy sauce, breadsticks, a slice of chocolate cake—his eyes never leaving you as you ate, his hand stroking your thigh, his voice soft and encouraging. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, his lips brushing your temple, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you take care of yourself.”

Your confidence grew, a radiant bloom nurtured by his love, his touch, his words. You wore what you wanted—tight dresses, crop tops, nighties that barely covered you—each piece a celebration of your body, your curves, your strength. Jungkook’s reaction was always the same, his eyes darkening, his jaw clenching, his hands flexing with need, his cock hardening at the sight of you. “Fuck, baby,” he’d say, his voice thick, his eyes blazing. “You’re killing me.”

One night, you wore a black lace nightie, its fabric sheer, clinging to your curves, your nipples hard against the lace, your thighs bare, your hair loose around your shoulders. You stood in the bathroom of his apartment, the air thick with steam from the shower, the mirror fogged, the scent of his body wash—cedar and mint—lingering. Jungkook stepped out, a towel slung low on his hips, his tattoos glistening with water, his dark hair dripping, his eyes locking onto you, dark and hungry.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he growled, his voice thick, his towel dropping to the floor, his cock hard and ready, the sight making your mouth water. “This nightie—you’re fucking unreal. Get in the shower. Now.”

You stepped into the glass enclosure, the hot water cascading over you, the steam wrapping you in warmth, the tiles cool against your feet. Jungkook followed, his hands on you instantly, pressing you against the wall, the water sluicing over your bodies, your nightie soaked and transparent, clinging to your curves. His lips crashed into yours, the kiss messy and desperate, his tongue sweeping against yours, his hands cupping your breasts, his thumbs brushing your nipples through the lace, making you moan.

“Fuck, these tits,” he groaned, his voice rough, his hands kneading your heavy breasts, the soft flesh spilling over his fingers, your nipples hard and sensitive. “They’re so fucking perfect, Y/N. I’m obsessed.”

He dropped to his knees, the water streaming over his tattooed shoulders, his hands guiding your breasts together, his cock sliding between them, the sensation new and thrilling, the friction making him groan, his eyes locked on yours, dark and adoring. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he rasped, his voice thick, his hips rocking, his cock gliding between your tits, the water making everything slick, the pleasure building, sharp and intense.

You moaned, your hands in his hair, your body arching, the sight of him—his muscled frame, his tattoos, his cock between your breasts—driving you wild. “Jungkook,” you gasped, your voice needy, your thighs clenching with want, the water amplifying every sensation, the steam thick in your lungs.

“Come for me, baby,” he growled, his voice rough, his hands gripping your breasts, his cock thrusting faster, the friction pushing him to the edge. You didn’t need to touch yourself, the sight of him, the feel of him, enough to send you spiraling, your orgasm crashing over you, a wave of pleasure that left you trembling, your cries echoing in the shower, your body shaking as he groaned, his release spilling hot across your chest, the water washing it away, his breath ragged, his hands steadying you.

He pulled you close, his lips brushing your forehead, your cheek, your lips, soft and reverent, the water still cascading over you, his arms tight around you. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice raw, his eyes soft and fierce, his hands stroking your curves, his touch a reminder of his obsession, his love. “You’re my fucking goddess, Y/N.”

Jungkook was your constant, your rock, his love a fire that never dimmed, his touch a balm that healed every wound. He took you on late-night drives, the city lights blurring past, his hand resting on your thigh, his voice soft as he told you stories of his childhood, his dreams, his fears, his tattoos a map of his soul he shared only with you. You’d park on a hill overlooking the city, the stars above a canopy, his arms around you, his lips brushing your temple, his breath warm against your skin.

“You’re my home, Y/N,” he’d whisper, his voice raw, his eyes soft and fierce, his hands framing your face. “I’ve never had this, never felt this. You’re my everything.”

You’d kiss him, slow and deep, your hands tracing his tattoos, your bodies pressed close, the world fading until it was just you and him, your love a universe of its own. One such night, you wore a tight, off-shoulder dress, its fabric hugging your curves, your hair loose, catching the breeze. You’d barely stepped out of the car, the air cool and crisp, the city lights twinkling below, when Jungkook’s eyes darkened, his jaw clenching, his hands flexing with need, his cock hardening at the sight of you.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he growled, his voice thick, his eyes raking over you, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you against the car door, the metal cool against your back, the night air sharp in your lungs. “You’re fucking unreal.”

He spun you around, pressing you against the door, his hands hiking up your dress, his fingers digging into your hips, the soft flesh yielding under his grip. His lips were on your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, the stubble on his jaw a delicious burn, his breath hot and ragged. “Fuck, this body,” he groaned, his voice rough, his cock pressing against your ass, hard and ready, the fabric of his jeans rough against your bare skin. “You’re so fucking perfect, Y/N. I’m obsessed with every curve.”

He thrust into you, slow and deep, the stretch intense, a delicious burn that made you moan, your walls clenching around him, wet and tight. The sensation was overwhelming, his cock filling you, the friction sparking pleasure with every movement, his hips rocking against your ass, the car creaking slightly under the force, the night air cool against your heated skin. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you back to meet his thrusts, each one harder, deeper, his groans low and primal, his breath ragged against your neck.

“Jungkook,” you gasped, your voice breaking, your hands braced against the car, your nails scraping the metal, your body trembling as he fucked you against the door, his pace relentless, his cock hitting a spot inside you that made you see stars. “It’s too much.”

“You can take it,” he growled, his voice thick with need, his lips brushing your ear, his teeth grazing your lobe, sending shivers through you. “You’re mine, Y/N. This body, these curves—fuck, I love how you feel. So fucking perfect. Come for me, baby.”

The pleasure built, sharp and electric, your moans mingling with his groans, the night a symphony of your bodies, the scent of sex and his cologne heavy in the air. His hand slid around, finding your clit, rubbing tight circles, the pressure pushing you to the edge, your legs shaking, your breath hitching. You shattered, your orgasm crashing over you, a white-hot wave that left you trembling, your walls pulsing around him, your cries loud and desperate, your body shaking as he fucked you through it, his thrusts never slowing, drawing every last spark from you. He followed, his hips stuttering, a low groan escaping him as he spilled inside you, hot and deep, his hands gripping you, his body trembling, his breath ragged against your neck.

He held you there, still buried inside you, his arms wrapping around you, his lips brushing your shoulder, soft and reverent. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice raw, his hands stroking your curves, his touch a reminder of his obsession, his love. “You’re my fucking everything, Y/N.”

He photographed you, his camera capturing your laughter, your curves, your vulnerability, his eyes soft and adoring as he showed you the images, each one a testament to his obsession, his love. “You’re art,” he’d say, his voice firm, his hands framing your face. “You’re my fucking masterpiece, Y/N. I want to fill a gallery with you, show the world how fucking perfect you are.”

You’d blush, your heart swelling, your confidence a radiant bloom, your insecurities a faint whisper, drowned out by his love, his worship, his truth. You wore what you wanted, ate what you loved, lived with a freedom you’d never known, your body a temple you cherished, your heart a treasure you shared with him. You saw yourself as he did—a goddess, a warrior, a woman worthy of everything, your curves a celebration, your soul a light that burned bright.

One winter evening, you stood in a gallery, the air thick with the scent of wine and perfume, the walls lined with Jungkook’s photographs—images of you, your curves, your laughter, your vulnerability, each one a testament to his love, his obsession, his truth. The room was filled with people, their voices a low hum, but your eyes were on him, his black suit hugging his frame, his tattoos peeking out from his collar, his eyes soft and fierce as he watched you, his hand resting on your lower back, warm and possessive.

“You’re my masterpiece,” he whispered, his voice raw, his lips brushing your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “Every curve, every smile, every fucking inch of you. I love you, Y/N. I’ll love you forever.”

You turned to him, your eyes shining, your heart full, your dress hugging your curves, your confidence a radiant bloom. “I love you too,” you said, your voice steady, your hands framing his face, your lips brushing his, soft and deep. “You’ve shown me who I am, Jungkook. You’ve given me everything.”

He kissed you, slow and deep, the world fading until it was just you and him, your love a universe of its own. The gallery faded, the voices silenced, the stars above a canopy for your forever. You were his, he was yours, and together, you were infinite—a love story written in ink, in light, in the curves of your body, in the beat of your hearts, a masterpiece that would never fade.

[ggukivrse]

the art of pretending – jjk | teaser

summary. when you and jungkook show up to your much anticipated graduation trip and realise neither of you had the guts to tell your friends about your recent break up, there’s only one thing you can do to keep the trip from falling apart: pretend.

but somewhere between fake kisses and real feelings, you start to wonder if letting go was ever the right choice at all.

pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader

genre/warnings: exes to lovers, fake dating, idiots to lovers, mutual pining, angst, fluff, (eventual) explicit sexual content, swearing, alcohol consumption, ft. seokjin, namjoon, hoseok, jimin, taehyung, yoongi + four female ocs, other chapter specific tags

word count: 1k

notes: right soo... this fic was not apart of the poll i put out BUT i did manage to finally write something so you can't say anything (writer's block has been kicking my ass lately, study break was just a result of my horniness loll). this is j a teaser so if we like this, i’ll prioritise it, if not, it’ll still get written, just a bit slower! enjoy reading my angels <333

ps. kiara is pronounced like tiara, just with a k

< prev • next > | series masterlist | main masterlist

The road stretches out ahead, long and quiet, humming under the tires. You lean into the car door, forehead pressed against the glass, fingers mindlessly tugging at the threads on the hem of your shorts.

Summer air seeps through the half-cracked open window, warm and heavy with the scent of trees and sun-baked asphalt.

You should be excited. Everyone else is.

A full week away — just your group, no classes, no work shifts, no group projects hanging over anyone’s head for the first time in four years. A final trip before the “real world” starts to pull everyone in different directions.

But your stomach’s been tight since the moment you packed your bag. And now, with every mile you put between yourself and home, it just gets worse.

“You’re really quiet,” Kiara says, glancing at you from the driver’s seat. She’s got one hand on the wheel, the other flipping the volume knob down on the music. “Like... unusually quiet. Do I need to be concerned?”

You shake your head without looking at her. “Nah. Just tired.”

Kiara makes a sound like she doesn’t believe you, but she doesn’t press, and you're grateful for it.

You glance over at her. She’s in an oversized T-shirt, dark brown hair falling in curls past her shoulders, sunglasses balanced on top of her head instead of over her eyes.

“I thought you’d be in full DJ mode by now,” you say, nodding toward her phone. “Where’s the summer playlist?”

She smirks. “I’m easing you into it. Jimin says my music tastes give him whiplash.”

“He has a point.”

She scoffs. “Please. Hoseok says my music’s amazing.”

“He says that about everything you do," you say with a smile.

She shrugs, casual. “He’s not wrong.”

It’s adorable how hopelessly smitten they are. Even after a year together, Hoseok still looks at Kiara like she hung the stars.

You remember when they finally got together, after years of dancing around it. Everyone in the friend group had seen it coming — everyone except them.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Kiara laughs, and you can’t help but join in. For a second, the knot in your chest loosens. Just a little.

"Speaking of Hoseok," you start, glancing over at her. “How come he's not coming with you?”

She sighs. “Shift at work. He tried to switch but his manager’s being a dick. He’ll drive up tomorrow morning.”

You nod. “That sucks.”

She hums in agreement, but you’re already half-lost in your thoughts.

As much as you feel bad for Hoseok, you're quietly grateful Kiara asked you to come with her. The idea of doing this drive alone — just you, a quiet car, and way too much time to sit with everything you haven’t let yourself feel — would’ve made the weight in your chest unbearable.

She hasn’t said much, but she’s always had good timing. Maybe she didn’t even realise how much you needed the company. Or maybe she did.

“Lucky me, I got upgraded,” you say lightly.

She grins. “Damn right you did.”

The playlist switches songs, something soft and nostalgic. You stare out the window again, at the lazy sway of trees and the occasional flicker of a passing car.

“I can’t believe we actually pulled this trip off,” Kiara says, after a beat. “Twelve people committing to anything at the same time? Miracle.”

You nod. “Taehyung’s been talking about it since first year.”

“Yeah, and threatening to disown us if anyone bailed.”

You huff out a small laugh.

Back when this trip was just an idea tossed around during late-night study sessions and half-finished group projects, you'd been genuinely excited — borderline giddy, even. The promise of a full week at a fancy resort with your closest friends had felt like the perfect reward after years of deadlines, breakdowns, and pulling all-nighters on cheap coffee and instant noodles.

It was one of those plans that didn’t feel real at first — the kind of thing you talk about just to survive the semester — but then slowly, it started taking shape. Rooms were booked. Deposits paid. Group chats flooded with outfit ideas and packing lists.

You remember counting down the months, then the weeks. You’d imagined bonfires and inside jokes, sunsets by the water, slow mornings in a warm bed.

Back then, this trip had felt like the light at the end of a very long tunnel. Something to look forward to. Something certain.

Now, you can barely keep the dread from crawling up your throat.

“You sure you’re good?” Kiara asks again, gentler this time.

You blink, pulled back to the present. “Yeah. Just... a lot on my mind.”

Again, she doesn’t push. Just gives you a side glance and says, “Well, don’t overthink it. We’ve got a whole week of sun, overpriced cocktails, and probably at least one group fight. You’ll be fine.”

You offer a small smile. “Yeah, you're right. I’ll be fine.”

But your stomach’s still a mess, and the name you’ve been avoiding thinking about drags itself right back to the front of your mind.

Jungkook.

You haven’t seen him in a month.

Not since it ended.

And in about an hour, you’re going to be standing under the same roof as him — spending an entire week in the same space, breathing the same air, pretending it doesn’t feel like your insides are still bruised from the last time you spoke.

A small, irrational part of you hopes he won’t show. That something will come up. That he’ll decide it’s not worth it.

But you know him. He’ll be there.

Of course he will.

Kiara says something — probably teasing, probably meant to distract you — and you laugh on instinct. Keep the smile on your face, even as dread pools low in your gut.

This was supposed to be the trip of a lifetime.

You glance out the window again, the road narrowing in the distance.

Now, a part of you can't stop looking for the nearest exit.

< prev • next > | series masterlist | main masterlist

taglist | click here to join: @thegreatdepressionme

[girlygguk]

FRIENDS ⋆ JJK

summary in which you try to play a silly little prank on your boyfriend and end up getting fucked silly instead

pairing editor jk x youtuber fem reader

genre established relo, fluff, smut (18+ minors dni)

word count 4.5k

content based on this request, some teasing and banter, calling my boyfriend my friend prank, lingerie kink i think, cunnilingus, choking, much much dirty talk, daddy kink, degradation kink, um i got carried away, dom jk, oc reverse cowgirls on the d, accidental sex tape, creampie, product of sleepy brain ignore errors

author’s note okay but this is actually just porn… bro promised an angsty unhappy ending fic and then drops one where jk is a down bad, obsessed coochie destroyer .. umm well yes that does seem to sum up the entire brand

“Hi guys!” you chirped, voice sweet as you gave a little wave to the camera. “Today’s video is super exciting…”

You smiled, glossy lips curling as you smoothed your hand over the front of your oversized tee. “I’ve been sponsored by Seafolly,” you continued, eyes flicking briefly to the side, “and they sent me their new summer bikini line to try on and show you guys!”

Next to you, your boyfriend was perched on the edge of the bed, one hand resting lazily on your thigh and the other loosely draped across his own lap. His eyebrow lifted slightly in curiosity as his gaze turned to you. The corner of your lips twitched as you suppressed a giggle. You hadn't told him what you were filming today.

Your fingers toyed with his tattooed hand resting comfortably in your lap and you turned back to the camera, the blinking red light reminding you it was recording. Not that you’d forget, especially after he’d already distracted you halfway through setting up which forced you to have to redo your hair and makeup entirely.

You took a deep breath, willing yourself not to laugh as you continued, “So I thought I’d bring my friend, Jungkook, to rate the swimsuits out of ten! Whichever one he likes the most, I’ll wear it to my other friend’s pool party themed event next week.”

The silence was fucking palpable. His gaze snapped to you, staring at you like he was seeing things, eyes scanning your face like you’d just told him you hated him and wanted him to choke.

You didn’t dare look directly at him. You’d laugh and you knew it. “Did you want to introduce yourself, Jungkook?” you asked, head tilting innocently, eyes flitting to him for a millisecond before twisting back to the camera.

He didn’t respond, just blinked at you for five silent seconds. Then, his mouth quirked up into the smallest, most incredulous smirk as he shifted his gaze back to the camera.

“Hm?” you prompted, lifting your hand to pat his shoulder in a friendly gesture. Yeah, that did it.

His eyes squinted and his tongue poked into his cheek as he slowly turned to you, his expression equal parts amused and offended.

“JK… are you alri—”

“Jungkook? JK?” he interrupted with a humourless laugh, his brows furrowing as he leaned closer. “What is thi- what are you doing, baby? Your friend? I’m your friend?” His head tilted, daring you to agree.

You choked on a giggle. “I—”

“Do you let all your friends fuck you in the a—”

“BABY,” you screeched in defeat, your hands shooting up to cover his mouth as your laughter spilled free. “Shut up, oh my god! I was just kidding!”

His eyes fucking sparkled above your fingers, and the smug little glint in his gaze told you everything you needed to know. This video was not safe in his hands. He edits your content, which means this moment is most definitely making it into the final cut in some way, shape, or form.

You felt his teeth grazing your palm, a little nibble that had you giggling and pulling your hand away. He licked his lips, satisfied. Your laughter finally subsided as you shook your head softly, resting your hands on his thighs to lean up for a kiss. He tasted faintly like vanilla and strawberry—your gloss, no doubt. Lathered on his lips after your makeout sesh thirty minutes prior had turned into you getting flipped over and fucked on the very bed you were now perched on.

You pulled back cheeks pink, but Jungkook leaned in again, hooking your soft side with his hand and catching your lips with a quiet grunt. You smiled against him, fingers curling into the fabric of his boxer tee. “Okay,” you laughed against his mouth as his kiss grew greedier.

Jeon Jungkook happily ignored your queue to continue the video, lips drifting lower along your jaw before dipping down to your neck. You let out a soft, involuntary breath when he gave a gentle, wet suck. You could already picture the tiny red mark blooming just below your ear, your stomach fluttering at the thought of it being there in your haul for everyone to see.

“Okay, baby,” you whispered, your voice catching. “L-let me redo the intro. Hold on—”

His tongue licked over your skin one last time before he leaned back, his hand sliding down to your bare thigh just below view of the shot. His dark eyes danced with amusement as he tilted his head, clearly enjoying how flushed you looked now.

“Okay,” he murmured. “Go ahead, friend.”

After successfully finishing the intro again, you pressed a quick kiss to Jungkook’s cheek as you stood, the hem of your—well, his—shirt fluttering slightly as you passed him.

“I’ll be back, my love,” you said softly, bending down to grab the first bikini set from the bag tucked under your bed.

He hummed in acknowledgement, his fingers rubbing along your warm thigh as you bent, before letting you slip into your ensuite.

The pink set you picked first was sweet and girly with ribbons at the hips. You tied the last knot, smoothing the fabric and checking yourself in the mirror with a soft hum. You knew he was going to like it.

Your boyfriend didn’t really do obvious. He didn’t gush or fumble or get flustered easily. But you could always tell when he was affected. His silence got heavier, his eyes a little darker, and he looked at you like you were something he couldn’t touch even though you were already all his.

You opened the door and he moved his focus from checking that your recording software was optimised properly to you. He didn’t say anything, but the pause was more than enough. Your bare feet padded over fluffy white rug as you stepped into the centre of the room.

“Thoughts?” you said lightly, voice lilting as you did a slow turn. You literally felt his eyes glued to your ass.

Jungkook’s gaze dragged slowly up your body when you faced him again. His head tilted slightly, elbows resting on his knees as a tattooed thumb dragged slowly over his bottom lip. “That’s the first one?” he asked, voice low as his eyes flicked up to meet yours.

“Mhm,” you smiled. “What’s your rating, love?”

He looked at you for a long moment as he gathered his thoughts, then leaned back again, dragging his bottom lip between his teeth for a second before replying.

“Eight.”

“Eight?" you echoed with a smile as his eyes drank you in.

“It’s pretty,” he said, nodding slightly. “Soft. Matches that lipgloss you wear.”

You tilted your head and stopped yourself from cooing at the cutie. “What would’ve made it a ten?”

His lips twitched, eyes flicking up to yours. “If I was the only one seeing it.”

Your stomach fluttered. “Hm. Gotta learn to share, baby,” you hummed, turning away and making sure he had a nice view of your ass. You heard the tiny amused scoff he gave under his breath as you slipped back into the bathroom.

The second set was black. A little tinier. The bottoms had double ties at the hips, and the top hugged your tits in a way that was probably going to get your video reported a few times. You smoothed the cups in tiny adjustment, then ran your fingers through your hair before stepping back out. You walked slowly and let your boyfriend’s eyes find you.

And god, did they.

He sat straighter, arms resting on his thighs and inky hands pressed flat and hard together. You wondered what he was praying for.

You watched his brows twitch slightly, lips parting before closing again. You stopped in front of him with a breathy little laugh at his reaction. You gave the same little turn, received the same burn on your asscheeks, and faced him again. “Well?”

He inhaled once, slowly and deeply. “That’s not gonna make it to the party.”

You raised an eyebrow, pretending not to smile. “It’s not?”

“Not a fucking chance,” he shook his head in almost disbelief, staring at your tits almost spilling out of the excuse for fabric. “Is this even going to be allowed to go on YouTube?”

You giggled, looked at the camera and checked you were both well in frame before turning back to your boyfriend privately. “Yes, baby. I read up on it briefly and I’m pretty sure if there’s no nipple, it’s fine. And I have nipple covers on.” You leaned down to let him look into the cups of your bra to see the flower shaped silicone pads. He nodded and pressed a kiss to the outside of your nipple before blinking once.

“Six.”

You laughed, squinting down at him. “You’re such a liar.”

He blinked, unbothered and not bothering to deny the accusation.

“Six?” you repeated, still smiling. “I like this one... It’s hot, no?”

Jungkook’s eyes dropped to your tits, then your tummy, then your thighs. “It’s a ten,” he nodded, “and that’s the problem, baby.”

You saved the last one for the end on purpose. It was… a lot. A barely-there high cut in his favourite shade of red with very cheeky bottoms and a top that looked more like a suggestion than actual coverage.

You tied the last string behind your back, letting your hands fall to your sides as you looked in the mirror for a beat. You almost snorted under your breath. He was going to lose his shit.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, Jungkook didn’t react at first. He was still on the edge of the bed, absently doing that spinning thing he does with his vape between his fingers. Then when he glanced up, his jaw twitched.

You didn’t say anything, just stepped in front of the camera like it was nothing and posed sweetly. Like this wasn’t about to end everything.

“Well?” you asked after a beat, your voice light but breathier than before. “Last one.”

Jungkook nodded once. Slow, quiet, like he was confirming something to himself. Then his brows furrowed. “Baby…” he said softly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he stared at your back. “You left the tag on.”

Your lips morphed into a pout. “What?”

“Turn around.” You did a slow spin, trying to crane your head to see over your shoulder, turning again like a dog chasing its tail. “Where? I don’t see it—”

“C’mere,” he murmured, holding a hand out without looking away from you. “I’ll get it.”

You stepped toward him. “Be gentle with it, please. I still need to take shots for the Instagram post,” you said, turning your butt to his hand so he could pull the tag off.

One second your boyfriend’s hands were tightening over your bare hips, then the next you were being flopped like a ball of dough right onto your bed. You yelped as you bounced lightly against the mattress, hair spilling around your face. “Baby—”

“Stay,” he said simply. And like a dog, you did.

You just blinked up at him as he hovered over you, his heavy lidded eyes dragging slowly down your body. The camera was still blinking behind you, that much you knew, but neither of you moved to stop it. You both worked with cameras and film for a living… This was hardly the first time you’ve recorded yourselves getting freaky, accidentally or otherwise.

Jungkook’s hands slid down your waist again, big palms warm and slow like he needed to feel every inch of you with care before doing what he was about to do.

“Wore this on purpose,” he murmured almost to himself, eyes fixed on your chest as his fingers toyed with the thin fabric. “Knew I’d lose my shit.”

You smiled cutely. “Maybe.”

He let out a half-laugh, half-groan before leaning in and kissing the swell of your boob just above the line of the bikini. His teeth grazed the edge of the cup, dragging the strap down slowly with his mouth.

“Looks better off, I think,” he murmured, lips brushing your skin as he pulled the top and pathetic covers aside.

His mouth closed around your nipple before you could reply, and your back arched immediately with a soft gasp. His tongue was hot, swirling over the plumping bud before his teeth caught it gently, pulling a dirty breath from your lips.

Your hands reached for his hair on autopilot, fingers threading through the shorter strands as best you could while he sucked and kissed greedily down your chest. His hands were already sliding lower down your thighs, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed with an easy tug before sinking to his knees.

You felt his breath before you felt his mouth, his exhale hot and slow against your inner thigh. You moaned softly, hips twitching toward him.

“So needy,” he muttered, dragging the bikini bottoms down with a slow tug of his fingers. “Like I should reward needy girls that give me fake innocent looks during a shoot.”

“Maybe I was being innocent,” you tried, your voice breathy as you leaned on your elbows and internally cast an incantation to make his fingers hurry up and move lower.

Jungkook looked up at you with a slow blink, his tongue dragging over his bottom lip. “Right,” he mocked, kissing your plushy inner thigh before digging in.

You gasped as his mouth finally pressed against you, his big tongue easily parting your folds. Your hands flew to his hair again, falling back onto the mattress as his lips wrapped around your clit. You felt him swallow, heard him groan, watched the ceiling as your thighs clenched around his head when he flicked the hardening bud beneath his tongue.

“Oh, fuck yes, baby-”

He grunted into your cunt, the sound vibrating against your core as his fingers slid up to spread your lips into a V shape.

“Taste like fuckin’ heaven, baby,” he mumbled into you. “So fucking good.”

He leaned back down and slurped your pussy up like it was his favourite meal. And well, it kinda was, really. The long fingers of his left hand held you open while the long fingers of his right slipped up between his greedy tongue and your sopping heat. Coating his digits in spit and slick, he slid them down from your twitching clit to your weeping entrance.

“Ohhh, fuh-huckkkkk,” you moaned dumbly, eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of two big fingers feeding into your cunt.

Your hips were bucking into his face, nothing eligible or coherent sounding from your throat, just fucked-out whimpers as his wet mouth continued its torture on your clit.

“Jungkook baby, oh goddd I’m gonna cum, fuckk,” you whimpered, not even bothered nor surprised at how quick he brought you to it. He’s good like that.

Your hips stuttered as your walls clamped down hard on his thick fingers curling in and out of your leaking hole, tongue licking and lapping at your beating bud. “C’mon then, beautiful,” he coaxed into your pussy. “Cum.”

And god, did you.

A pathetic scream left your lips as your hands clutched the strands of his hair. His grunt of approval at the pain was filthy as you rode the waves of your orgasm, his lips still suctioned to your clit, his fingers still massaging the plushy soaked walls of your hole.

He didn’t stop until you were writhing with tears in your eyes at the pain that hurt so good. Didn’t pull away until he’d licked every drop of your slick and juice from your weeping cunt. Didn’t quit drinking until his thirst was quenched and you were coating the inside of his throat.

When he finally pulled back after your whimpers had turned croaky and you had enough strength to lean up and rest on your elbows, you took in his messy form. Wet mouth, chin glistening in your slick, eyes completely gone. His pupils were blown wide after finally getting a hit of his favourite drug, hair fucked from your pulling while he drank in hungry breaths.

You let out a tired, happy grunt as your boyfriend licked over his glistening lips and lifted a hand to the back of his neck, tugging his shirt right off. You reached out for him with greedy, grabby hands and a pout, legs spreading on their own. “Inside, please…”

Jungkook nodded softly, giving you a kiss on your bare tummy before slotting between your open thighs and capturing your mouth with his. His tongue slipped in like it always did to let you taste yourself on his tongue and you moaned in satisfaction, puffy lips wrapping the big muscle to suck it all off.

“Baby,” he murmured against your mouth, letting you finish your assault on his tongue before pulling back, a trail of spit still connecting you. He broke it with a suck before glancing down at the last shreds of the bikini still clinging to your body. “This bikini is a fucking joke.”

Before you could decide whether to tease him or agree, he tugged on the bottoms. Hard. The thin string snapped clean, and you gasped in surprise as the remaining pieces of the swimsuit gave up entirely.

“Jung. Kook! My Instagram photos!”

He didn’t answer, just reached up and tore the top straight down the middle like it was nothing, the little heart-shaped ring at the centre clattering somewhere off the bed.

You narrowed your eyes at him before breaking into a fit of giggles at your boyfriend’s deadass gaze stuck on your now naked body. His eyes dragged over your bare chest, your soft belly, the slick between your thighs. Then he exhaled harshly and murmured, “Ten.”

You choked on your laugh, your head tilting back against the comforter. “Ten? Now you give a ten?”

“Mhm,” he whispered, crawling back over you, his hand sliding up to cup your breast with his full palm. “Very much approve.”

You giggled again, but it melted into a whimper when his thumb brushed over your nipple and his mouth was back on yours. It was the kind of kiss that felt like a claim, all teeth and tongue, his heavy weight pressed down onto you in the way he knows you love. His hand kneaded your breast like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to be sweet or filthy, but your hips rolling up and grinding hard against the bulge in his jeans made the decision for him.

He groaned into your mouth as you fumbled blindly with his belt, too desperate to stop kissing him but too horny to prolong him being inside you. He gave a final sip to your tongue before sliding his wet lips down your neck and sucking another bruise into your skin while you wrestled with the button of his jeans.

“Let me—” you grunted through a moan, head tilted so he had better access to mark you while eager hands shoved at the denim that was holding your reward hostage.

Jungkook lifted his hips slightly, helping you shove them down and biting back a groan when your bare foot slid under the waistband to kick them off with a little grunt.

“God, you’re good at that, baby,” he muttered into your neck.

You blinked at him innocently as your foot hooked his socks off too. “You should see what I can do with my hands.”

He bit back a laugh and smushed a kiss to your lips. “M’well aware of what your hands can do, angel.” His mumble cut off with a hiss when you ground your bare pussy against his covered hard-on, wetness soaking through the fabric. “What d’you want, baby?”

You kept up your slow grind, letting your slick coat his clothed cock in warm, lazy rolls. “You.”

“Fuck,” he groaned at your unhelpful response, eyes fluttering shut. “You want me to bend you over? Your ass has been driving me fucking insane, baby.”

Your teeth dug into your lip as he grabbed a greedy handful of each cheek when you rocked into him again. “Or,” he rasped, eyes just open enough to watch your tits bounce with your movement, “could fuck you like this and watch your tits bounce in my face.”

You pouted at both lovely options, unable to choose. “You’re gonna have to decide, baby.”

He didn’t answer, just grabbed you suddenly and flipped you until you were straddling him reverse cowgirl, thighs spread wide over his hips.

“Oop,” you gasped, steadying yourself with your palms on his thighs.

“Good,” he murmured, giving the position a onceover with a little nod. His hands slipped back down to your ass for another squeeze. “This works.”

The camera was still going, and beside it, the monitor captured your position and nudity in full. No wonder he wanted you this way. He had the best of both worlds.

“Look at you,” he groaned, squeezing your ass before flicking his gaze up to your chest on the screen. “Fuckk. Look at those tits, baby…”

Your cheeks heated but you didn’t stop grinding down, eyes on the monitor as his jaw clenched every time your pussy dragged over the thick outline of his cock. His hand came up, wrapping around your neck from behind to drag you back into his chest. You whimpered into the messy kiss he pulled from you as his fingers flexed and his hips jutted up into your needy cunt.

Pulling back with a slow suck on his bottom lip, you reached down beneath your ass and pushed the band of his briefs low enough to free him. His thick, leaking length slapped up against his stomach when you gave it the space, and your mouth watered a little before turning back toward the monitor.

You leaned forward with one hand on his warm thigh, the other wrapping around the base of his cock to line him up, and the second you sank down, Jungkook’s eyes rolled back.

“Jesus,” he grunted at the feeling of home, hands sliding up your soft sides to hold onto you just in case. You fed the shaft into you slower this time as this angle always made every ridge and vein feel thicker. When you reached the hilt and were stuffed full, your now-empty hand joined the your other on his opposite thigh.

“Shit,” you breathed, your walls pulsing around him before beginning to move. His hands slid from your waist to cup your tits, squeezing, teasing and watching them bounce in a dirty rhythm on the monitor as you lifted up and sat back down with a thwack.

He was fucking gone—head tilted back, mouth open, hair damp with sweat already. “Yeah, baby,” he rasped. “Fuckin’ just like that. Ride me, ride my fucking dick, angel, come on.”

You bounced harder, trying to imprint the shape of his cock into your stomach. You were soaked and dripping, the sound of wet skin slapping filling the room. You wondered if it would pick up well in the recording.

Jungkook couldn’t stop groaning, his grip on your tits tightening, hard nipples digging into his palms. “Gonna fill this fucking pussy up, baby,” he panted as you fucked him into the mattress. “You want that? Want me to stuff you full with my fucking cum on video?”

You moaned so loud it nearly threw off your rhythm. “Yeah?” he growled, losing his control and thrusting up into you, balls slapping against your leaking lips. “That’s my fuckin girl. So fucking sexy, baby.”

Your thighs trembled, fingernails digging crescents into his skin. He growled louder at the sting, hand shifting from your tits to your neck. He leaned up against the headboard, pulled you flush to his chest and pounded up into you like a fucking fleshlight.

“Dirty fucking slutttt,” he barked as you choked on your spit and moans, your hands reaching up to grip the headboard in pleasured anguish. “Starting to think you want me to leave this in the video. Let everyone watch you take what I give you like the cock-drunk fucking whore you are.”

“Uhhhhfuckk, baby!” you screamed as the head of his cock beat into your g-spot. “Yes, god, I’m your dirty little whore, daddy,” you cried in tune with the headboard banging loudly against the wall, your body trembling with each brutal thrusts.

“I know you are, baby,” he hummed into your sweaty neck, tongue licking the salt from your skin. His fingers tightened around your throat and your eyes rolled white, hand loosening from the headboard to grip the back of his thick neck. “The best whore for daddy, huh.”

When the hand not clasped around your throat slid down past your jiggling tits and plushy stomach to your needy clit, a strangled gasp spewed from your lips. “Oh, y-yes daddy, yes, rub it- rub my fucking clit, please, please, I’m so fucking closeee—”

He hovered his fingers over the bud for a drawn out second before hammering a thrust so deep it knocked the air out of you. His balls twitched at the feeling of you clenching and he knew he was there. So he demanded, “Cum,” teeth scraping your skin while his fingers began furiously circling your clit. “Cum on daddy’s cock, baby. C’mon, baby, fuck, c’mon!”

You shattered with a scream, your throat contracting under his grip as your pussy clenched down in sore spasms. Jungkook didn’t last a second fucking longer. He slammed up once more and buried himself to the hilt, cock twitching violently in your hole as his seed splattered right through.

He cursed through his teeth, big arm wrapped around your waist as you spasmed on his dick through your high. Your moans were pitched and broken as he filled you with the cum he promised, hips rolling slow to ride out the aftershocks, balls emptying every last drop into you.

You all but collapsed in exertion, letting your boyfriend hold the full weight of you in his arms as he gently turned you around, length still snug and stuffed inside. Your mascara was done for, your hair tousled and messy, and your lip gloss was smudged over both his lips and yours. And to Jungkook, you’ve never looked prettier.

Tugging you into his chest, his strong arms wrapped around you and shifted you until you were curled around him like a satisfied koala. Neither of you moved for a while, just caught your breath and soaked in the afterglow.

“We should so start an OnlyFans.”

Jungkook’s hand smoothing over your ass gave it a firm little warning smack at your comment. “You’re insane.”

You grinned, nuzzling into his sweaty neck with a pleased purr. “Insane for you, my love.”

[silverozy]

CHAPTER 33 WILL BE OUT TONIGHT! STAY TUNED!!

Amor tam pulcher | KTH - masterlist

❁pairing: senior!taehyung x junior!oc (Italian education system)

❁description: Daphne moves from the city to the countryside; objectively, a downgrade, but, emotionally, an upgrade. From the urban chaos straight into his warm embrace

❁synopsis:

"Would you go on a date with me? "Yeah." She nodded. "I'd love to go on a date with you." Voice light and teasing. "Yeah?" His eyes widened slightly. "Yeah." "Oh, God. I thought you'd say no because-" "Why?" Then her voice dimmed, shy and hesitant. "I like you."

❁genre: romance, fluff, smut, angst

❁wc: 219.68k+

❁date: 30/03/2024

❁warning: mature content

❁notes: strangers-to-lovers, teen love story, lots of fluff, smut, senior!taehyung (taehyung is like super smart), junior!oc (academic weapon, she loves herself an excellent academic performance), a lil angst, taehyung is head over heels for oc, nature lovers (oc loves flowers, taehyung loves butterflies), countryside (looks like Italy because that is the only type of countryside I know and love), oc has a lovely family, taehyung has daddy issues, jimin and jungkook are taehyung's besties( they also have other two girls as best friends); oc has a girl best friend (childhood best friend) and three boys as best friends); oc is so fucking prettyyy, like girl pretty; cross-posted on wattpad and ao3

❁chapters (status - ongoing) ⇀ updates every Friday, midnight

latest — 11/04

❀ ❛prologue❜ - 1.52k

Rewriting the story of Daphne and Apollo ⇀ «A love that drives me crazy, a lovely crazy, a sexy crazy, an amazing crazy»

❀ 01 ❛love is all around❜ - 4.24k

On a chilly summer morning, a bouncy curly-haired sun rose up and shone above the flower

❀ 02 ❛ying yang❜ - 4.28k

Photosynthesis: the sun shines bright above the flower providing it with energy which will be transformed into nutrients

❀ 03 ❛the exploratory stage❜ - 5.48k

As the sun shines in its might, it brightens the way for a little flower to see over the horizon

❀ 04 ❛just like old times❜ - 6.70k

The bright rays of the sun show the way to the flower, introducing it to an innocent little bear, a ferret and a little wasp

❀ 05 ❛a monarch butterfly❜ - 4.17k

There, going back home, was an unusual combination of subjects: a cricket, a wing-man, a monarch butterfly, a little pika and a puppy

❀ 06 ❛venus❜ - 4.82k

Who could have ever thought that a flower could grow in space? Who? No one surely and yet... there it was, standing upright in its beauty

❀ 07 ❛a laurel❜ - 4.92k

He knew he wasn't meant to fly to space because he physically couldn't but this thought wouldn't stop him. Was he being pretentious? Trying to exceed his limits?

❀ 08 ❛fuck you!❜ - 6.10k

Normally, flowers are in people's gardens or on a bed of green grass so... what the hell is one singular one doing in the middle of the ocean. Does it know, does anyone know, that too much water will cause it harm... especially when the water is salty?

❀ 09 ❛en route❜ - 5.07k

With its six tiny feet into proper boots, a good protective shield over his wings and an astronaut helmet on, the monarch butterfly embarks on a life-threatening journey, one believed to be a one-way ticket travel

❀ 10 ❛who we are, what we do❜ - 6.01k

Flowers don't have eyes, yeah, and neither does a pika glow even during the day. The flower is used to seeing only the sun shine during the day. The little pika walking by is unusual.

❀ 11 ❛an overly ambitious hedonistic seductress❜ - 6.04k

Cleopatra is the modern definition of the term "femme fatale"; she's known for ruling in ancient Egypt but also for her relationship with Ceaser and Mark Antony

❀ 12 ❛the butterfly, the cricket and the wing-man❜ - 4.49k

A butterfly, a cricket and a wing-man all have wings somewhat. The first does fly, the second mostly leaps and the last doesn't fly unless the first two do.

❀ 13 ❛the Titanic❜ - 7.31k

Between the night of the 14th and the 15th, in 1912, one of the biggest ships of its time sank, going against the expectations but did it? At the time, there was a little competition between countries so when it sank it wasn't so surprising: something so big with very few resources would have never made it across the ocean.

❀ 14 ❛from five to ten❜ - 11.44k

Brighten the mood. Increase the energy. Make a downturned flower rise high and flunt its beautiful petals for others to see.

❀ 15 ❛bold, red and underlined❜ - 14.70k

“You know? That party I wanted to host at mine? You’re so invited. In fact, you’re the first one on my guest list and I’ll underline your name in red as in ‘in great and urgent need of pussy’—”

❀ 16 ❛«it's Daphne»❜ - 11.30k

A monarch butterfly sees a lot of flowers in its short span of life but never has this one, nor its ancestors, seen a flower as pretty as the one ahead. The flower was there, living beautifully in space.

❀ 17 ❛hesperiidae❜ - 6.41k

Right when the sun faded away and the dark clouds took over, the little butterfly's wings fluttered less as it lost hope until something caught his eye, a gleam slicing through the gloom and focusing on a flower.

❀ 18❛opposites attract❜ - 5.59k

Winter and the Wind of the West come to destroy but nothing can touch a flower when it's under a shelter, something that will prevent it from dying in the cold or losing its beautiful petals.

❀ 19 ❛peek-a-boo (boo boo)❜ - 5.66k

Things have been too unusual for this butterfly. Wasn't it trying to embark on an impossible journey? To space? How did it end up in a shiny sea? it's floating and his pupils are swelling. The beauty is indeed out of this world

❀ 20 ❛lifejacket❜ - 6.97k

The wings grew with each flutter. There was a glowing dot on the ocean and it was slowly fading out into the darkness so the butterfly cradled it and protected the leur

❀ 21 ❛monarch and blue morpho butterflies❜ - 4.13k

The weather was chilly and slightly windy. Despite the discomfort it caused everyone, the flower stood out like a thumb as it danced and waved with the soft patterns of the breeze. The butterfly couldn't do anything other than admire with widened orbs

❀ 22 ❛rosy cheeks❜ - 3.91k

Did it see it? Did the flower see the butterfly? Because the butterfly has already seen the flower. Had already memorised every curve, every line, and every dot that brought the flower to life.

❀ 23 ❛caramel macchiato❜ - 4.23k

There was no way he could ever get lost: one look at those eyes and he'd see all the constellations, the map leading him to Venus

❀ 24 ❛butterflies, flowers... and butterflies❜ - 6.03k

«I mean, it's also an evergreen plant like the Laurel but it doesn't sound as special. Lauri does though.»

❀ 25 ❛bittersweet❜ - 4.10k

There were seven lanes, each welcoming an athlete, for a total of seven athletes. Yet, as the contestants got ready for the lace, some chose to acknowledge the presence of only a few athletes, the ones they were marking. Their true competition.

❀ 26 ❛open stage❜ - 9.78k

Floating and hovering around his spaceship, the butterfly moved closer to the round window giving to the dark glittered expanse. There was Venus and standing proudly in its infinite beauty was the flower.

❀ 27 ❛approach, round out, flare❜ - 8.08k

Poor Cinderella. She cried and cried. Then a small woman appeared in a cloud. It was Cinderella’s fairy godmother. “Biddidi, bobbidi, noo!” sang the fairy godmother as she waved her magic wand, but she gasped, hand coming to cover her mouth in bewilderment. Cinderella had turned into a tomato!

❀ 28 ❛a lighthouse❜ - 6.47k

Water flowed through the clothes, the hair strands, and around the body as the flower held onto a wide piece of wood. The water was chilling, the night was silent, and the ambience was dark, but right through the blackness slid the rotating rays of a lighthouse. Blinking to adapt to the brightness, the flower called for help.

❀ 29 ❛sus or sos?❜ - 7.12k

The rotating and flashing lighthouse lights shone upon a cricket, which floated barely a foot away from the flower. Yet, as the butterfly came to rescue, it didn’t see it, leaving the cricket trying to swim for its life, screaming and choking on water.

❀ 30 ❛a coup d'état❜ - 5.95k

Standing on a tower, two neurons patrolled the area, binoculars to their eyes. Suddenly, they sighted something. They squinted their eyes despite the instrument in their hands and tried to make sense of what they saw. "Hey, send in the alarm. Prepare the defensive barrier. Do something. Hurry up!" As this one darted away, the other remained still, binoculars back to its eyes. Confusion bubbled in its head. What had happened for the heart to be heading towards the body's headquarters? And what was that army of hormones behind it?

❀ 31 ❛the sun on the horizon❜ - 10.75k

The butterfly had finally found the flower. After travelling across space, it landed on Venus, where a singular ethereal natural being stood erect in its almighty beauty. After the coup d’etat, the heart realised that the situation was bigger than expected. The heat rose up to every part of the body. Butterflies increased and with that the flutters of their wings, which fanned the fire, expanding instead of quenching it. Infatuation at its peak.

❀ 32 ❛the lily family❜ - 7.09k

A new member of the Liliaceae. “You like butterflies, and she’s named after a flower.”

❀ 33 ❛stinkily cute!❜ - 12.75k coming soon

1905. Annus mirabilis. Three important elements: Einstein, the relativity of time, Planck, quantum mechanics, and Quantum entanglement.

❀ 34

❀ 35

❀ 36

❀ 39

❀ 40

❀ 41

❀ 42

❁pinterest board // my main

[jkvjimin]

(232/∞) the perfect nose for butterflies to land on it ♡ cr. @jung-koook

[jung-koook]

[487/547] — until we meet again, jungkook ♡

[letsbangts]

paint me, play me: moonlight || jjk

⤷ summary: you are the day; he is the night. you are the sun; he is the moon. not meant to collide—one must set for the other to rise. but what happens during that rare moment when an eclipse occurs? can you both coexist peacefully together?

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ word count: 46k+

18+ // mdni

⟶ genre: e2l, college au, fluff, angst

⟶ content: grumpyljk (+ rockerjk, fuckboy!jk) x sunshine!reader (+ cheerleader!reader, artisit!reader, bimbo!reader), rockband!bangtan

⟶ warnings: explicit language, mean comments, jk being a jerk, jess is a b*tch, bullying?, insults, bickering, insecurities, self-doubt, past trauma, ptsd?, mentions of death, mentions of car accident, mentions of verbal abuse, mentions of smoking, mentions of alcohol, flirting, teasing, (idt there's anything else, but if there is pls lmk!!)

⟶ part: 1/4

↬ a/n: this took forever but I hope the wc justifies why lol but I’m so excited to finally have pt. 1 of pmpm out. the response I got from my initial post about this series was way more than I expected so I hope you all enjoy. and to my little freaks there’s no smut in this chapter but just you wait my loveys ;) happy reading! angel xoxo

↬ a/n2: AND LET IT BE KNOWN I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT UNIVERSITY, ROCK, ART, OR CHEERLEADING. I have no knowledge about anything I’m writing about sooo readers discretion is advised. *also this is edited to the best of my ability but she is a beast so feel free to let me know of any mistakes*

˖⁺. ༶ NOW PLAYING ༶ .⁺˖ moonlight ariana grande 01:43 ─✮───── 03:07 ⇆ ⊲ II ⊳ ↺ ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮

series masterlist ˚.⋆˚.⋆˚.⋆ main masterlist ˚.⋆˚.⋆˚.⋆ join my taglist

i never knew, i never knew you could hold moonlight in your hands 'til the night i held you you are my moonlight, moonlight

New beginnings and change are hard for people, but you have grown accustomed to them. You have come to embrace them. There aren’t many things that could bring you down, and a new town and school aren’t among them. This move might be good for you; a shift in your surroundings may be what you need.

At first, you felt a bit nervous when your mom accepted a new job out here, but once you saw the new house, it sold you on the move. Then, when you looked up the university located here and discovered it is known for its Visual Arts major, all your worries faded. So, when you applied for a transfer from your previous university to Borahae and not only got accepted but also received a scholarship for all your achievements, you felt as if everything was falling into place. You felt as if it was all destined to be.

You walked around to familiarize yourself with the area; it was a pleasant town. It has a small-town vibe but is still a bustling city, and the people are very nice. When the adorable elderly lady who works at the convenience store you stopped by heard you were new to the town, she gave you your lollipop for free. You would never pass up free sweets, even though you were ready to pay.

With a skip in your step and a treat in your mouth that tastes even sweeter because free food is always more delicious, you head home with a newfound high – not from the sugar, but from the feeling that things are looking up.

You practically bounce up the stairs and through the front door, where you find your mom doing some of the last bits of the unpacking. It was overwhelming when the two of you first moved in, but you expected to be stressed out when relocating your entire life from one place to another. But as always, you both had each other to lean on.

You could not ask for a better mom, even without a biased opinion, because she is the woman who gave you life; she is the strongest and kindest woman you know. She has always been in your corner, cheering you on, and had your back when things got shaky. As you have gotten older, she has also started to come to you for support, and you have always been there to give it to her. The past year and a half have been tough on both of you after your dad’s passing, but you noticed she seemed to carry the weight of everything much heavier on her shoulders.

You have seen how this move has brought back that spark in her. Everything about your old home was like a constant reminder of his absence, making it difficult to move on from grieving. Although you both will never forget him or all the memories shared with him, a new space for building a new chapter in both of your lives has boosted her drive for life.

Your mom looks up from the box she was unpacking when she hears you come through the door, and a smile forms on her face as you walk into the living room.

“Oh, sweetie, you’re back already! How was everything?”

“It was nice! Everything is so pretty and old-timey, and the shop lady gave me a free lolly!” You wave the dwindling candy in the air to show her.

She laughs lightly and continues unpacking, placing books on the half-full bookshelf.

“Well, that was nice of her. I will have to stop by myself and greet her. The town seems full of kind people; you just missed one of our neighbours. This sweet young man helped me bring in this box,” she gestures to the heavy box of books. “He mentioned how he and a few other boys live together next door. They’re actually around your age and even attend Borahae as well.”

“Oh, what a coinkydink!” you giggle.

“I know, right? And get this: he said they all play in a rock band! Talk about coincidence! They rehearse in their garage, so he wanted to be sure the noise wouldn’t bother us, but I told him not to worry.”

You nod with wide eyes and your mouth in the shape of an ‘O’.

“I wish I was here to say hi to him.”

Your mom waves her hand, “Oh, it’s okay, sweetie. You’ll meet him soon. I mentioned that I have a daughter his age and that you will be attending the same university as him. I’m sure you’ll meet all of them eventually.”

You nod again, with your lollipop perched between your pursed lips.

“Well, I guess I’ll finish the last few boxes in my room.”

You walk over and kiss your mom on the cheek.

She smiles and continues with her box. As you walk up the steps, she calls out,

“Keep an eye out for him; he was a nice boy. His name is Namjoon!”

☾☀︎

You walk down the sidewalk as fast as possible in your wedge heels. Being late on your first day isn’t ideal, but you had to be sure you looked cute. As you hurry towards the enormous building, your pink mini-dress flows in the light breeze. As you step onto the school grounds, you hear the roar of an engine. When you turn your head towards the sound, you see a motorcycle zoom past you at top speed.

“Ooh, shiny,” you gasp, coming to a halt as you stare at it, mesmerized until it banks the corner and disappears. You shake your head, pulling yourself from your trance and refocus, resuming the trek to the main entrance.

The large building makes you nervous; butterflies form in your stomach as you get closer. You see two guys at the bottom of the stairs leading to the main doors. The guy standing with the broadest shoulders is talking to the other guy sitting on the large stone bannister. The shoulder guy is laughing at something he said, but the other guy sits there with a neutral look as he takes a drag from his cigarette.

You approach them with a big smile, their conversation pausing as they both turn to you. The shoulder guy raises his eyebrows in question while the other looks you up and down before turning back and continuing to smoke.

“Hi! Do you know where the office is?”

The shoulder guy smiles and nods his head.

“Uh, yeah. When you enter the building, turn right, and you’ll see a big ass wooden door, that’s it.” He says, gesturing up the stairs to the building as he talks.

“Big ass wooden door,” you mumble to yourself, nodding. “Got it, thanks, Shoulders!”

You turn and walk away, following his directions before he can reply, causing you to miss his reaction to your name for him and the grin that spreads across the other guy’s face as he chuckles.

“Did she—Did she just call me Shoulders?”

“Well, that is like 75% of you.”

You also miss the guy holding a motorcycle helmet who walks up and joins the other two.

☾☀︎

In the office, you are filling out some forms, making sure all your ‘i’s are dotted with a heart, when you see a middle-aged woman walk out of the back office with a red-haired girl, immediately catching your attention.

She looks the complete opposite of you in her black denim dress, black fishnet tights, thick-winged black eyeliner, and a hoop nose ring.

The secretary assisting you interrupts the two’s conversation, notifying her of your arrival.

“Mrs Baek, this is Y/N L/N.”

Once the woman sees you, she grins and extends her hand for you to shake.

“Ah, Y/N! It is lovely to meet you. I’m Mrs Baek, the dean here. We are so honoured to have someone of your merit attend Borahae. I was very impressed by your work. You are such a gifted artist with a great eye for fine detail. I am sure you will make our school proud.”

You don’t notice how the red-haired girl’s eyes light up.

“Thank you, Mrs Baek! I am so excited to be here!” you bounce in place while giving her hand a little squeeze.

Mrs Baek chuckles, giving your hand in hers a pat with her free hand.

“If you have any questions, my door is always open, dear.”

You nod eagerly, and with that, she turns to leave. She gives the red-haired girl a tiny nod, which she returns with a smile.

You and the girl are now left standing at the counter alone. She steps closer to you, her hand gliding across the wooden surface.

“So you’re new here, huh?”

“Yup! My mom and I just moved here—not to the school, to the town; we don’t live here.”

“I hope not; we’re here enough as it is,” she laughs, and you join in.

“Y/N, right? I’m Chaerin.”

“Nice to meet you! I love your hair, it’s so pretty, it reminds me of a–”

“A cherry?”

“Yes!” you gasp.

“My nickname is Cherry; all my friends call me that. You can, too.”

“Oh, yay! Are we friends?”

Cherry nods with a smile.

“Wow, I haven’t even gone to a class yet, and I’ve already made a friend. This place is great!”

“I heard Mrs Baek say you’re an artist. I’m guessing you’re an art major?”

“Yeah, Visual Arts. Are you studying art, too?”

“Oh no,” Cherry shakes her head fervently, “I can’t even draw stick figures properly. I’m a music major, Music Technology.”

Your mouth hangs agape because your new friend keeps getting cooler and cooler.

“What kind of art do you do?” Cherry asks.

“The one with pictures...” you furrow your brows.

“No, no,” she laughs at your confusion, finding it adorable, “Like, what do you specialize in? Drawing, painting, sculpting?”

“Oh! I’m good at everything, but painting is my favourite!” you beam.

“So you draw too?”

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Oh my gosh, this is perfect,” Cherry mutters, thinking aloud.

Before you can ask what she means, she grabs both of your hands, bringing them up to her chin with pleading eyes. You look at her in surprise.

“I know we just met, and I’m not usually this forward... that’s a lie, I am, but I don’t want to seem rude. But what are the chances that I would run into the new artist getting the dean’s praise? It’s like fate crossed our paths,” she rushes out her words in one breath, “So as your new friend, I need a favour from you. You see, my boyfriend is in this rock band with his friends, and they have been looking for someone to design a logo for them.”

“A rock band?” your look of surprise only grows.

First, you move in next door to a rock band, and now your new friend is dating someone in a rock band. What crazy odds.

“Yeah, Army of Bombs is what they go by. I help them with their songs sometimes. I know I’m a little biased, but they are amazing!”

“And you want me to design a logo for them?” you say slowly, taking her request in.

She nods desperately, squeezing your hands tighter. “Please, pretty please, with a cherry on top. No pun intended.”

You giggle at her remark and even more at her puppy dog eyes and pout.

“I would love to help you, but—”

Cherry, thinking you’re about to say no, interrupts.

“Look, I know rock music is probably not your thing,” she gestures up and down at you, “But I mean, you don’t have to like it,” she says, trying to reason.

You chuckle at the irony.

“No, that’s not it. I just—I don’t know the band well enough to design a logo for them,” you shrug with a small smile, not wanting to disappoint her.

“You can come and sit in on their rehearsals! You can get a feel of the band’s vibe. The guys won’t mind. They’re cool; you’ll like them.”

She stares at you nervously as you tilt your head in thought, considering her offer.

“Hmm, okay! I’ll do it!” you exclaim.

“Oh my gosh, seriously! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She pulls you into a tight hug, swaying side to side. “You’re the best, Y/N! If you ever need anything, say the word, I’m your girl.”

You hug her back just as tightly.

“I can’t help this week though. I have a lot going on since it’s my first week here,” you tell her as you pull apart.

“That’s cool, I get it. Whenever you’re free, let me know. You can text me. I’m usually always at the rehearsals anyway. They rehearse at their house. Oh yeah, here, let’s exchange numbers.”

She pulls out her phone, encased in a piano phone case and hands it to you to put in your number. You pull out your pink rhinestone-covered phone and give it to her to do the same.

She enters her number and flips your phone in her hand. She looks at the sparkly case before glancing at you and chuckling as she hands the device back.

You look at her with wide, curious eyes.

“You really are like a little Barbie, huh?”

You light up at her comment, “Thanks!”

“They will be so pumped; I can’t wait to tell the guys about this! My boyfriend is waiting for me outside. He’s probably wondering what’s taking me so long.”

“I’m excited to meet everyone,” you smile.

“Barbs, I believe this is the start of a beautiful friendship,” she smiles back.

You think the same thing.

☾☀︎

You are nearing the end of your first week; it has been great so far. You like all your classes, and your professors have been very welcoming; they have all heard of you and your scholarship. You’ve made connections with a few classmates and gained more friends, but Cherry still sits at the top of the list.

You and she have been texting all week, and it’s not just about the band logo; she has been making sure you are doing okay with adjusting to everything. However, she did mention that she told her friends that you agreed to design their band’s logo and that they were excited.

Speaking of bands, you have yet to meet any of your neighbours that your mom told you about. You would think no one even lives there if it weren’t for the music you hear coming from the garage almost every night. That Namjoon guy must be nice if he warned your mom about the noise because it is loud. But they are talented; you’ve caught yourself bobbing your head to the music numerous times. You’ll tell them you’re a fan when you finally meet them.

You are headed to the gym to try out for the cheerleading team. Art is a relatively sedentary and solitary activity, so you enjoy cheerleading because it gets you moving and allows you to socialize with others. Also, the uniform is super cute, and you love cheering people on.

You push open the gym door and walk over to the girls gathered on the bench, waiting for the tryouts to begin. You sit down next to a strawberry-blonde girl who is texting away on her phone. You notice a pink gummy bear charm dangling from her cell.

“I like your charm; it’s so adorable!”

She looks up upon hearing your compliment, and her eyes dart from you to her phone and back to you before she smiles.

“Thanks, I like your set,” she gestures to your hot pink sports bra and matching pants, “I see we both have great taste in colours.”

“I love pink and candy, so this is like they had a baby,” you say, taking the charm between your fingers and examining it more closely.

“You’re funny. I’m Rina, by the way,” she lifts her hand in a small wave as she introduces herself.

“I’m Y/N,” you wave back gleefully.

The doors open before you two can talk anymore, and the room fills with the echo of laughter. Three girls walk in, wearing purple and white cheerleading uniforms, and stand in front of the waiting students. The tallest girl among the three stands between the others and plasters a wide, fake smile on her face before she speaks.

“Hello, everyone. Welcome to the cheer tryouts for the Borahae Belles. I’m Jess, the cheer captain. And this is Mei,” she points to the girl on her right, “And this is Kat,” she points to the girl on her left.

“This is our second year cheering for the school; we had a stellar year last year, winning nationals,” Jess flips her ponytail over her shoulder, placing a hand over her chest, “And like I did last year, I plan on leading us to victory this year, so I hope you brought your ‘A’ game.”

Everyone’s faces fill with fear, but you aren’t worried. You are excited to be cheering again; you missed it.

“We would usually have tryouts out on the field, but the football team has practice today, so we had to settle for in here. As you can see, we only have a few roll-out mats, so try not to get injured because we really can’t deal with that right now,” Jess rolls her eyes, and the other two girls snicker.

“Okay, enough talk. Let’s get started!” Jess claps twice, and Mei hands her a clipboard with the signup sheet.

One by one, people start going to the centre of the room and performing their routines. The three cheerleaders give little to no response, simply calling out the next name after each performance.

“I’m so nervous, are you?” Rina whispers to you.

“No, not at all,” you shake your head.

“You must be confident.”

You are. You were cheer captain throughout high school and even at your old university. You don’t have a big head, but you know you’re good, so you’re confident you’ll make the team.

“I am; you should be, too. I bet you’ll do great,” you say, squeezing Rina’s shoulder in encouragement.

Just then, Rina’s name gets called out. She gives you a weak smile, gets up and makes her way to the mat. She performs her routine flawlessly, finishing with a back handspring, jumping into a herkie, and landing in a torch position.

“Yay, Rina,” you applaud enthusiastically for her, thinking she had no reason to be nervous.

You don’t see the dirty look Jess gives you.

Rina mouths a silent “thank you” and “good luck” and gives you a thumbs-up before she leaves the gym.

Four more people’s names get called out before you finally hear yours; you spring up and skip over to the mat.

“Hi, I’m Y/N L/N! I’m very excited to cheer for you.”

“Yeah, we know your name’s on the signup sheet,” Kat says as she and Mei snicker.

Jess tilts her head, eyes scanning you, “Why don’t you start your routine?” she smirks.

While you perform your routine, Jess sits up straighter than she has since tryouts began. Both Mei and Kat’s eyes are wide in shock. You’re good–excellent. You’re better than they thought you’d be, better than the others who have tried out. The two girls don’t say anything for fear of upsetting the captain, but you’re even better than Jess.

Mei and Kat glance warily at Jess, her eyes are narrow, and her lips are pursed from her sucking her teeth.

You finish with a toe touch and land in a liberty pose. Once you face the three girls with an anticipatory expression, Jess immediately breaks into a smile, which you return, unaware of her disapproving look throughout your routine you were too absorbed into to notice.

“You’re good. Y/N, was it?” Jess asks, raising an eyebrow.

You nod, clasping your hands behind your back.

She hums, glancing down briefly before continuing, “I shouldn’t say anything before the official list goes up, but I think you can consider yourself a Borahae Belle.”

You hop up and down in place, hands balled up, nearly bursting with joy.

You’re clueless about how the other two cheerleaders whip their heads towards the captain in surprise, taken aback by her complimentary words and acceptance of you.

You thank the three girls before practically bouncing out of the room.

As soon as you’re out of sight, Jess’s smile disappears.

☾☀︎

Cherry is sitting on the sofa in the guys’ garage as they get ready to rehearse, tune their instruments, and set up the equipment. Seokjin, who is rolling out the amplifier and plugging it in, calls her name.

“Hey Cher, when are we going to get to meet this art girl? I’m dying to discuss logo ideas with her.”

Hoseok, who was tuning his guitar, chimes in at the mention, “Yeah, it’s about time we finally got one. Every iconic band has a logo; branding Army of Bombs if we want to make our mark is a must.”

“She’s super busy this week; I told you she just moved here. Once she settles in, she will start working on the design. She’s going to sit in on rehearsals to help her get ideas,” Cherry replies.

“If she is as good of an artist as you said, shouldn’t she be able to draw something up at the snap of her fingers?” Jimin comments.

“The logo has to fit the band, and she knows nothing about you guys or your music. Also, rock and roll music doesn’t seem like her style, so she has to get familiar with it.”

“Did you get to see any of her work? You know, to see how good she is?” Namjoon asks.

“No, I never got a chance to,” Cherry shrugs.

The band exchanges pessimistic looks with one another.

“So let me get this straight, you asked a girl who doesn’t like rock and who might be a shit artist to design our logo? Well, that sounds promising.” Taehyung smirks, his tone laced with sarcasm.

“She is talented; I heard the dean praise her myself.”

“The dean would kiss anyone’s ass. You know how much people pay to go there,” Taehyung rebuts.

“She said she was honoured to have her attend the school. I don’t remember ever hearing that she complimented any of you.”

“She once told me I was, and I quote, “unbelievable” actually,” Jimin says.

“She wasn’t saying that as a compliment, you idiot. She said it in disdain,” Seokjin clarifies.

“Semantics,” Jimin waves off. “The point is that Cherry has probably roped us in with some new girl and opened our rehearsals to her without checking her credibility.”

“What are you blaming my girlfriend for?” Yoongi inquires as he walks in with Jungkook a few steps behind him. He sits on the sofa beside Cherry and wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side.

“We just found out that she doesn’t know if the girl she got to do the logo has any real talent,” Hoseok updates while pointing at Cherry.

Yoongi turns his head to look at her, his brows furrowed, “I thought you said she was good?”

“She is!” Cherry exclaims, throwing her hands in the air. All the guys jump in shock at her outburst.

“I can’t believe you guys are giving me such a hard time. You were eager to find someone, and now that I have found someone willing to do it, you are complaining.”

“We aren’t complaining, Cher; we are sceptical. She might be willing, but that doesn’t mean her work will meet our standards,” Taehyung states.

“Didn’t you see any of her drawings or something?” Jungkook asks while grabbing his guitar and putting the strap over his head. When he looks up, he sees the rest of the band staring at Cherry, whose eyes are rolling in exasperation.

Jungkook smirks and snickers, “You didn’t. Way to put in the work, Cherry.”

“Okay now, step off. We gotta give this girl a chance at least; I’m sure Cher is vouching for her for a reason.” Yoongi comes to his girlfriend’s defence, calming everyone down. He kisses her on the temple before making his way to his keyboard.

“Yeah, who knows? She might be like a little Picasso,” Namjoon says, intervening to lighten the mood. He pats Cherry’s shoulder as he walks by her and sits behind the drum set.

The guys take their positions, and Cherry leans back onto the sofa with a huff.

“I’m telling you, she’s good and doing us a big favour by agreeing to help us. Once you guys meet her, you’ll be eating your words.”

Namjoon does the count-off, his drumsticks hitting together with each number, “One, two, three, four.”

☾☀︎

Rehearsal ended a little while ago, and the band was scattered around different spots in the garage resting.

“Kook, what happened to that chick you were seeing? I haven’t seen you with her since Junho’s party,” Hoseok asks from his seat in the beanbag chair in the corner.

Jungkook, sitting on top of an amp, looks up from his phone, tilting his head in thought.

“Which girl?” Jungkook questions in return.

“Wow, seriously, man? You’re an animal,” Jimin laughs, shaking his head.

“The one who always showed up at the venue an hour before our shows and sat on stage the entire rehearsal,” Hoseok describes the girl.

“Oh her, I got rid of her a while ago.”

“Why? What was wrong with that one now?” Seokjin asks from the sofa, accustomed to the youngest one’s pattern.

“I just ended it,” Jungkook shrugs.

The older guys shake their heads, some chuckling at Jungkook’s nonchalance.

“Ugh, you are such a stereotypical rocker,” Cherry scoffs.

“Don’t hate the player, babe, hate the game,” Jungkook smirks, sending her a wink.

“Getting with girls shouldn’t be a game, Kook.”

“Hey, it’s all good fun, and we’re all consenting adults. It’s not like I hunt for these girls; they come to me.”

“More like they cum for you,” Taehyung jokes and daps Jungkook.

“Disgusting,” Cherry turns to Yoongi sitting beside her, “I sometimes question your choice of friends.”

“How come in moments like this, they’re not your friends, too?” Yoongi laughs.

“Speaking of girls, Joon, didn’t you say the lady who moved in next door has a daughter our age?” Jimin diverts, sitting on the armrest of the recliner Namjoon is sitting on.

Namjoon nods, “Yeah, she said she goes to Borahae too, but I haven’t run into her yet.”

“She must be one of those students who live their lives studying–home to school to the library and back,” Jimin says, waving his hand, tilting his beer bottle back and forth.

“Wait a minute, did you say a girl our age? Why am I only hearing about this now? I would have gone over to introduce myself, like a good neighbour should,” Taehyung perks up on the stool he’s perched on.

“That is what we don’t want,” Seokjin points to the three youngest, “You three are prohibited from going next door.”

“Hold up! Why are we being singled out?” Jimin exclaims.

“Because you guys wreak havoc wherever you go, and her mom is nice and was cool about us rehearsing out here. We don’t need you ruining that by messing around with her daughter,” Seokjin explains.

“Excuse me, I am a perfect gentleman. These two are the ones you need to worry about,” Jimin says, pointing two fingers at Taehyung and Jungkook.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about me; I don’t shit where I eat,” Jungkook raises both hands in surrender.

“And I resent being classed the same as Kook; I am nowhere near as big of a hoe as he is,” Taehyung defends himself.

“We’re not taking chances; don’t go anywhere near the kid, all three of you,” Yoongi declares.

“Yeah, the poor girl just moved here. Don’t corrupt her with your sleaziness; give her a break,” Cherry smirks.

“I can keep my hands to myself, but if she approaches me and she’s cute, I make no promises where my hands will be on campus,” Taehyung shrugs before sipping his beer.

The conversation shifts after that, and various topics are discussed, from upcoming shows to party invites they have received. The current topic is their female escapades despite prior denials.

Seokjin is in the middle of a story when he gets interrupted by a low whistle from Taehyung.

“Hottie headed this way,” he announces, his eyes focused on the street where a girl is walking down the sidewalk.

All heads, excluding Yoongi’s and Cherry’s, turn to follow his line of sight.

“Those are our school colours,” Namjoon notes.

“Damn, since when did cheerleaders roam this street,” Hoseok says.

That causes Cherry to glance in reluctance briefly before doing a double take. She suddenly stands up from Yoongi’s side, “Y/N?”

The guys all redirect their eyes to her in question.

“Y/N? Didn’t you say the art girl was named Y/N?” Yoongi asks.

She stands up, walks out of the garage, and yells, “Hey, Y/N!”

☾☀︎

As you expected, you made the cheerleading team, but you were still excited when you saw your name on the list of those who made it onto the team. Rina also made the team, so you were extra happy.

You changed into your new uniform right after you picked it up and made your routine stop by the convenience store on your way home. You told Mrs Lee, the adorable elderly lady who works there, that you made the team and twirled around to show off your new outfit. She was just as excited as you were and told you how pretty you looked. When you went to pay for your lollipop, she refused to let you pay, saying it was a reward for the special occasion.

So now you are walking home in your cute uniform and with a celebratory lollipop in your favourite flavour: bubble gum.

You think you’ve reached peak happiness at this moment. You can’t wait to get home to tell your mom the news and have her happiness added to it all. You turn the corner to your street and walk down the sidewalk to your house. As you get closer, you notice your neighbour’s garage open, this being your first time seeing any sign of life from the residence.

You pick up your pace, wondering if this is when you’ll finally meet the elusive rock band from next door that you’ve been hearing through the walls all week.

As soon as the garage comes into full view, you hear your name called.

“Hey, Y/N!”

You look up your neighbour’s driveway to see Cherry waving at you. With a big smile, you run up to her and hug her, making sure not to get the sticky candy caught in her hair. The thought of finally meeting the rocker’s neighbours gets instantly forgotten.

“Cherry!”

“What are you doing here?” she laughs as you pull away from the hug.

“I’m on my way home,” you point towards the direction of your house.

“You live close by?”

“Yup!” you giggle.

“And what’s this,” Cherry gestures to your uniform, “You didn’t tell me you were trying out for the cheer team.”

“I guess I forgot to mention it,” you knit your brows and pout briefly before lighting back up, “But isn’t it great! Don’t I look so cute?” You give her a twirl with your arms stretched out at your sides.

The guys watch in amusement while Jungkook slides off the amp, rolling his eyes as he heads over to the mini fridge in the back.

“You look cuter than anything my eyes have ever seen,” Taehyung interjects from his seat.

You glance over Cherry’s shoulder and smile at the boy. She lets out a huff and grabs your hand.

“I guess this is a time as good as any to introduce you to the band,” she tugs you into the garage with her.

“How do you know them?” you ask as you walk behind her.

Cherry turns and looks at you with a confused yet amused expression, letting go of your hand, “Huh? What do you mean? Remember when I asked you for help? I said my boyfriend was in a band with some friends.”

You nod slowly, still not caught up.

She smiles at you and flails her hand at the guys dispersed around the garage, “This is the band. Y/N, meet Army of Bombs.”

Your mouth hangs agape at the news. Your rocker neighbours are the same band Cherry asked you to design for. Wow, another coinkydink!

She pulls Yoongi from the sofa by his arm, “This is my boyfriend, Yoongi. He is the keyboardist of the band.”

He gives you a nod in greeting before a look of realization crosses his face.

“Wait, haven’t we seen you before?” he asks, pointing to you but turning to Seokjin.

You follow his gaze and gasp, “Shoulders!”

“I usually go by Seokjin, but I’ll take the nickname as a compliment,” Seokjin says with a laugh as he gets up to shake your hand.

You laugh as you shake hands while Cherry’s eyes dart between the three of you, puzzled.

“You met her already?” she asks the boys.

“She asked us, well, me, Yoongi — as usual, gave no help, for directions to the office,” Seokjin tells her.

“That was the day I met you,” you add, lifting your lollipop back to your mouth.

“Wow, that’s so crazy. Fate seriously crossed our paths!” Cherry exclaims.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you formally, Y/N. I’m the band’s manager,” Seokjin explains.

“Or, as we like to call him, our roadie,” a voice adds, stepping forward to join the introductions.

“I’m Taehyung, the visual relief of the band, but my official role is bassist,” the boy says, bared with a suave smile. He takes your hand and is about to bring it to his lips when Cherry rips his hold of you and pushes past him.

“He is also the official buffoon; ignore him,” Cherry glances back, glaring at Taehyung, who sticks his tongue out playfully at her before smirking.

“This is Hoseok. He’s the rhythm guitarist. Jimin, he’s the lead singer.” The boys give you a friendly wave and a smile, greeting you.

“Namjoon’s the drummer,” the boy flashes you a dimpled smile.

The name catches your attention, and your perplexed expression has Namjoon and Cherry looking at you bewildered.

“What’s wrong?” Cherry asks.

“Namjoon,” you mutter, tapping your lollipop against your lips in thought.

Namjoon sends Cherry a worried look, and she shrugs.

“Ah!” you exclaim, and they both raise their brows at your sudden outburst.

“You’re the sweet young man,” you smile and point your candy at him.

He gives you an amused chuckle, tilting his head slightly, “Am I?”

You nod, “Yeah, my mom said you were a nice boy.”

“Okay, Joon, going after MILFs now,” Jimin hollers but receives a quick nudge in the ribs from Yoongi and a dirty look from Namjoon.

“Your mom met Namjoon? Where?” Cherry questions.

“Outside,” you point out of the garage, answering Cherry.

The boys let out a small chuckle; Cherry ignores them and gives you a stare, urging you to explain further.

“He helped my mom bring in a heavy box.”

When everyone comes to the same realization, their faces turn to shock. You glance around and giggle at their expressions.

Cherry grabs you by your shoulders and turns you to face her body.

“Y/N, you moved in next door? Like into the house beside this one?” Cherry simplifies, trying to get a clear answer.

“Mhm,” you nod up at her, sucking on your lollipop.

“So you’re the daughter she mentioned,” Namjoon sends you a gentle smile.

“Well, now we know she for sure isn’t one of those students who live their life studying,” Jimin whispers to Hoseok, causing both of them to stifle a laugh.

A clink is heard from the back of the garage, catching your attention. You gaze in that direction, catching a glimpse of a broad back closing the mini-fridge door. As the person turns around, you encounter the most beautiful human you have ever seen.

His dark hair is black like the night sky, his skin is golden like a radiant star, and his eyes are big and intense like a black hole. He is like a galaxy walking on two legs, his gravitational pull too strong to escape; you feel the need to move towards it.

“Oh, right. Y/N, this is Jungkook; he’s the lead guitarist,” Cherry says, though her voice is almost like white noise to you, yet you still hear her.

“Jungkook,” you repeat.

For a brief moment, Jungkook, wearing a blank expression, his eyes unreadable, holds your gaze before breaking it, opening his beer, and walking over to sit on the stool in the corner. But you can’t ignore how your heartbeat quickens, the tingling sensation, how you somehow feel warmer.

“We never got to thank you for agreeing to design our logo,” Namjoon says, pulling you out of your trance and resting a hand on your shoulder.

“O-oh,” you blink, collecting yourself, “It’s no biggie!” you smile brightly.

“You’re doing us a solid; we’ve been searching for someone for months to do it,” Hoseok says.

“I’m so excited to do it and to sit in on your rehearsals. I’ve wanted to meet my neighbours. I can hear when you guys play through the walls, and I’m already a fan. You guys are super duper,” you say, giving them a thumbs-up.

Jungkook scoffs to himself quietly while the rest of the band smiles at you in gratitude.

“We’re excited to see what you come up with. Do you have any drawings so we can see your style?” Jimin asks.

“I don’t have my sketchbook with me; it’s at home,” you shake your head.

The boys give Cherry a doubtful look, which she ignores.

“Oh yeah! I have to go; I told my mom I would be back in time for dinner,” you say.

“Of course. We’ll see your stuff when you come to rehearsal. You’re still coming tomorrow, right?” Cherry asks as she walks you out.

You nod eagerly, “Yup, I’ll be here!”

She smiles, and you hug each other goodbye.

Before you take the few steps to your house, you turn and wave to the band.

“Bye-bye, see you tomorrow! It was nice seeing you again, Shoulders and Shoulders’ friend! And it was nice meeting the rest of you,” you call out, saying the last part while looking at the beautiful boy on the stool.

He doesn’t even acknowledge your words, occupied with his phone. The band bids you farewell, and you head to your house.

As you walk up the steps to your home, you smile with a blush, “Jungkook,” you muse, “What a pretty, pretty boy.”

☾☀︎

After your departure, Cherry turns to the boys with a raised brow.

“She’s nice,” Seokjin nods in approval with a smile.

“I can’t believe the person who asked for directions, the one Cher got to help us, and our new neighbour are all the same girl. What are the chances of all that?” Yoongi raises a finger with each point.

“I can’t believe you failed to mention how hot she was,” Taehyung says in disbelief to Cherry.

“Maybe because that has no relevance to anything,” Cherry deadpans.

“To you, but a hot cheerleader who is a talented artist and lives next door is like the female trifecta,” Jimin says.

“Oh, so now that you guys see she’s cute, you’re suddenly backtracking and agreeing with me that she’s got talent,” Cherry notes.

“I’m more hopeful about it,” Taehyung shamelessly declares with a nod, receiving an unimpressed look from Cherry in return.

“You guys can’t be serious,” Jungkook pipes up.

“What?” Cherry asks.

“You couldn’t find someone whose head isn’t in the fucking clouds.”

“Come on, don’t be so judgemental, Jungkook,” Cherry scolds.

“I have to admit, Cher, I’m still wary that she’s got any real art skills; she does seem a bit... ditzy,” Hoseok says gently, trying not to offend.

“She’s an airhead. I’d be surprised if she can even spell art,” Jungkook comments, his tone harsh.

“All of you should be the last to judge someone so quickly. Do you think when people hear you say you’re in a rock band, they don’t immediately assume you’re a bunch of wannabe rockstar losers before hearing how talented you are?” Cherry rebukes.

“You’re talking as if you’ve seen how “talented” she is,” Jungkook counters, his fingers making air quotes around the word.

“You know just as much about her supposed talent as we do. You’re just being defensive because she’s your new little friend,” Jungkook continues.

“And you’re being rude because she isn’t all doom and gloom like you,” Cherry argues.

“More like I’m calling it as I see it; she’s living in a world of her own,” he ripostes.

“And what does that have to do with her capabilities?”

Namjoon steps in to de-escalate the conversation: “She has a point: We can’t evaluate her abilities based on her personality. I say we wait to see what she shows us before jumping to conclusions,” he says, throwing Jungkook a look of reassurance; he adds, “We may be pleasantly surprised.”

“Whatever,” Jungkook mumbles, backing off. But he remains very doubtful that you can bring anything of substance, not believing that there is anything under your surface of lip gloss, bows, and lollipops that will surprise him.

☾☀︎

The next day couldn’t come fast enough for you; it was a bit after lunchtime when Cherry texted you that she had arrived at the garage and that the band was setting up for rehearsal.

As you skip next door with your sketchbook held to your chest, it feels like you are floating on a cloud. You thought about the pretty boy with the pretty big eyes all night, and you couldn’t wait to lay your eyes on him once again.

The garage door is wide open. You turn to enter and nearly bump into the very man you’ve been eager to see. You look him up and down shamelessly; he is wearing baggy jeans, black chunky combat boots and a white shirt with a black bomber jacket. With a chance to look closer at him, you notice his plump pink lips adorned with two piercings, his right eyebrow pierced, his ears decorated with several earrings, and a small scar on his left cheek.

“Oh, um, hi!” you smile at Jungkook with a tiny wave.

Jungkook gives you a once-over, his face emotionless, and walks away without a greeting.

You pout slightly, glancing down at your pink frilly crop top and white jean skirt, but don’t stay hung up on it for too long as Cherry notices your arrival.

“Barbs, you’re here. Come in,” Cherry waves you over.

She gives you a quick hug, and the rest of the band greets you warmly with head nods and waves.

“Hey, Shortstack,” Taehyung says with a gentle pat on your head.

You giggle at the nickname the tall boy has given you. Cherry sees the book cradled in your arms and smiles at you, excited for the guys to finally see how talented you are and, quite frankly, to see herself.

“Is that your sketchbook? Can we take a look?” she asks.

“Mhm,” you nod and hand her the baby pink sketchbook, a picture of two swans with their beaks touching on the cover.

The guys abandon their instruments as they overhear and huddle around the red-haired girl. You sit on the worn-out black leather sofa, glancing around the grungy place decorated with posters of different rock bands and filled with musical equipment. Your eyes land on Jungkook tuning his guitar in the back, not concerned with seeing your sketches like the rest of the band.

You watch as Cherry opens the sketchbook, and her eyes light up. Her mouth drops open as she flips through the pages, and her eyes widen with the guys’.

“Y-You drew these?” Hoseok asks dumbfounded, pointing at the book.

You nod brightly.

“Holy shit, Y/N! These are amazing!” Jimin exclaims.

“I knew you were talented, Y/N, but I didn’t think you were this good,” Cherry chuckles at the pages, shaking her head.

“They’re okay; I’m better at painting,” you blush at the compliments.

“No need to be humble, kid. These are way better than okay,” Yoongi says.

At Yoongi’s comment, you watch Jungkook walk over to the group, look over their shoulders at your drawings, glance at you, and then walk back over to continue tuning his guitar, all while his face remains impassive.

“Huh, you are like a little Picasso,” Namjoon says with a kind smile.

“Thank you,” you mutter shyly.

“I get why the dean was kissing your feet,” Hoseok says in awe, nodding.

“She didn’t kiss my feet,” you correct, shaking your head with knitted brows.

“He means why she praised your work,” Cherry explains.

“Oh... yeah. Mrs Baek is very nice,” you nod.

The guys all snicker, “Nice? Now that’s the first time I’ve heard that said about her,” Jimin tilts his head to the side with a slight shake.

“Well, the scholarship was nice of her,” you shrug.

They all look at you with faces of astonishment, and you give them the same look in return.

“What?” you ask, eyes wide.

“You got the dean’s scholarship?” Cherry asks, amazed.

“Yeah… is that bad?” you ask, worried at everyone’s shocked expressions.

“Man, we hit the jackpot!” Seokjin laughs with a clap of his hands.

“Getting a scholarship at Borahae, especially in Visual Arts, is very impressive, Barbs,” Cherry says as she comes and sits beside you, handing you back your sketchbook.

“You are very talented, Shortstack. Army of Bombs is honoured to have you design our logo; I’m sure you’ll make us proud,” Taehyung winks.

“I’ll do my bestest!” you declare with a determined nod but then pause before continuing, “On one condition, though,” you say, holding up your index finger.

Their eyes fill with apprehension, “What is it?” Yoongi asks.

“Remember to thank Y/N with $1 million when you become rich and famous,” you smile brightly.

They all chuckle at your cuteness when an irritated voice interrupts.

“Are we rehearsing today or not; because I have other places I could be,” Jungkook says in exasperation.

The boys roll their eyes and then move to take their positions. Seokjin sits beside you and nudges your shoulder with his; you turn to look at him.

“Thank you for helping us; we seriously appreciate it,” he says, shifting his eyes to the band. You follow his gaze to Jungkook. “All of us,” he finishes.

You look back at Seokjin, “I’m happy to do it,” you reply with a soft smile.

Cherry puts an arm around you, pulls you into her side, and gives you a little squeeze. You rest your head on her shoulder as the band begins to play. The loud music you previously had only heard through the walls shakes the room. Your body vibrates, and your ears ring as a sentimental smile forms on your lips at the nostalgia.

☾☀︎

It has been two weeks since you started attending the band’s rehearsals, and Jungkook still has not said a single word to you. He barely even looks at you, but when he does, it is brief, as if he is looking right through you.

The rest of the band seems to have accepted you into their circle quite warmly, even Yoongi, who isn’t very expressive; however, Jungkook remains cold and distant. You refuse to believe someone so beautiful could be so closed off. You have never been a girl who gives up quickly, so you have become determined to get the boy to embrace you just as the rest have — maybe even more. You can’t ignore the attraction you feel for him, not just physically, but it seems something deeper is compelling you to him.

Sitting in your newly designated spot on the sofa, Jungkook approaches you, and you perk up at the hope that this is the breakthrough you have been waiting for. But to your disappointment, as usual, your presence is dismissed as though you don’t exist; he reaches to the side table next to the sofa and picks up a water bottle. You stare at him as he chugs the liquid, watching his Adam’s apple bob and the sweat trickle down his neck.

He is captivating and handsome no matter what he does, even with the moody, intimidating aura around him.

Your eyes flicker down his body, and his arm catches your eye. As this is the first time you have seen him without a jacket on, you have never gotten to admire how his right arm, from his fingers going all the way up, is fully decorated with intricate ink designs.

This time, your gawking must be too much for Jungkook because only a second later, he sets his gaze on you.

“What?” he snaps.

You lift your eyes to his own, “What?” you blink.

The roll of his eyes is something you’re familiar with now, so you don’t take it to heart.

He sighs, closes his eyes, and exhales slowly through his nose as if calming himself, “You’re staring.”

You nod, “I am. I always do. You’re so pretty,” you say as if it’s obvious, gazing into his eyes.

You smile when his eyes meet yours. He turns his head to the side, looking away from you and clears his throat.

“You’re staring more than usual,” he states.

You seize the opportunity and jump off the sofa to his side; he flinches slightly at your suddenness.

“I was looking at your tattoos; I never noticed them. I like them! They are almost as pretty as you,” you take hold of his arm to examine the designs.

Jungkook rips his arm out of your grasp like your touch burns his skin. You don’t let his movement stop you, carrying on.

“They must have been painful. You are so brave to have done that,” you point at Jungkook’s arm, smiling in awe.

“They’re tattoos, not battle scars,” he grumbles, his tone grim.

“You’re so funny, Jungkookie,” you giggle.

His head whips, his jaw clenched, and he steps forward, towering over you.

“Don’t call me that,” his teeth gritted, his voice low, almost a growl.

Jungkook’s eyes flash dangerously, throwing a look meant to be a warning, but it completely unfazed you.

“Why don’t you like it? I think it fits you perfectly; your eyes are like big chocolate chips,” you tiptoe to peer into his eyes, not paying attention to how close your faces are to each other.

Jungkook stares back silently, then he leans back, looks to the side, blinks, clears his throat again, and pushes you back by your shoulders.

You turn your head to his big hand on your shoulder and blush; his touch is warm and not too forceful, just enough to create a suitable distance between you.

Then he tilts his head, “Are you always so annoying?” he sighs.

“I don’t think I’m annoying,” you say nonchalantly with a shrug yet pouting.

Jungkook only shakes his head, blinking once again before he walks away with a quiet curse escaping his lips.

☾☀︎

You waltz into the garage, no longer hesitant; it has become a place of comfort for you.

“Hi!” you announce your arrival and are greeted with hellos from those present. Your eyes shift, and you notice that a few members are missing, most notably the man of your dreams.

“Where’s Jungkookie?” you ask, not bothering to name the others absent.

Namjoon picks up on this but doesn’t mention it. He chuckles as he replies, “JK, Tae, and Jimin are on their way; they should be here soon.”

You nod, relaxing slightly; your eyebrows unfurrow, and your shoulders ease.

You settle beside Cherry on the sofa in your spot, pull out your sketchbook from your tote bag and open it to see the rough drawings you have made for the Army of Bombs logo. The book now has several pages of draft illustrations that you hope will lead you to the final design. You also pull out a new lollipop, unwrap it, and pop it into your mouth, humming in satisfaction.

“What flavour is it today?” she grins and nods towards your candy.

You pull out the red sweet and point it towards her with a wink, “Cherry,” you giggle.

“Ah! The superior flavour, as expected, great taste, Barbs,” she says, shooting a finger gun at you.

“Bubble gum is the greatest flavour, actually, but cherry is a very close second,” you correct jokingly.

You hear gravel crunching, and then Jungkook and the other boys enter the garage. His figure almost glowing as you watch him walk in.

“Sup,” Jungkook says, greeting the guys and doing that dap-hug guys do.

“Hi, Jungkookie!” you wave enthusiastically.

You don’t see how Cherry raises a brow at him, knowing his habit of ignoring you. He sighs and turns to you reluctantly.

“Hi,” his voice curt. The second the word is out of his mouth, he turns away, but you beam at the attention.

“Hey, Shortstack.”

Taehyung walks over and hugs you, patting your head.

“Hi, Taetae, where were you guys?”

“We were at the venue for our upcoming gig, just checking some last-minute stuff. Why did you miss us?” Taehyung pinches your cheek.

You nod, although you missed one of them more than the rest. Taehyung chortles, patting your head again with fond eyes.

“Sorry, Shorty. We had to take care of business,” Jimin taps your chin.

“Bold of you to call her Shorty,” Cherry quips, eyes darting up and down Jimin’s body.

“Haha. Funny,” Jimin laughs mockingly, “Why don’t you tell that joke to your boyfriend?”

“Touche, Park,” Cherry narrows her eyes at the mention of her equally short boyfriend.

Although, the whole band still towers over you.

“Why am I getting caught in the crossfire? I’ve been silent,” Yoongi comments.

Cherry waves him off, “Barbs, you should come to the show,” she taps your knee lightly.

Jungkook, whose back is facing you, winces at the invitation. The idea of you coming to their show already agitating him.

“Yeah, Y/N! You have to see us at our full effect!” Hoseok agrees.

“Really? That would be so cool!” you smile, bouncing in your seat.

“She has already been sitting in on all our rehearsals; is it necessary for her to come to our gigs?” Jungkook counters.

“Rehearsals and live shows are completely different,” Namjoon replies, “You have to come and see us to get the total Army of Bombs experience,” he adds, speaking to you.

“It’s not real rock and roll if you don’t have a crowd cheering you on, it’d be great to have you there,” Taehyung says.

“And it’d be great to have someone else to keep me company; Seokjin doesn’t cut it,” Cherry pouts to you.

“Now I’m catching strays,” Seokjin whispers to Yoongi.

“So you’ll come?” Cherry’s eyes are hopeful.

“I’ll come!”

And Jungkook grits his teeth at your answer.

☾☀︎

You’re in your bedroom with Cherry, and the both of you are getting ready to go to the guys’ show. They are playing at a bar known for having live performances—The Golden Bottle. It usually attracts a large crowd, but an even larger turnout tonight is expected since Army of Bombs is well-known in town.

Cherry had picked out your outfit: a hot pink latex strapless mini-dress paired with silver chunky platform heels. It’s still you—as Cherry had put it— “with just a little edge”. Since she picked your outfit, you’re doing her makeup in trade.

“When you told your parents you’re going to see a rock show, did they freak out?” Cherry asks as you apply her eyeshadow.

“No, my mom thought it sounded like fun! Plus, she knows you’re my friend, so she trusts me to go with you,” you tell her.

”What about your dad? You seem like you’d be a daddy’s girl?”

Your hand freezes as you move to pick up the blush brush, but you gather yourself quickly, hoping Cherry doesn’t see your falter.

“Um, my dad isn’t around,” you say, phrasing your words carefully.

“Hey, I understand. My parents are divorced too,” Cherry waves her hand at you, “My dad lives in a different city; I barely talk to him, let alone see him.”

“Oh, no, that’s not... I-I mean, that’s sad too... but,” you stammer over your words, “My dad, he, um, he passed away,” you finally get out.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Y/N—” she begins, her eyes widening with a face of guilt.

“You don’t have to apologize; you didn’t know,” you cut her off, offering her a reassuring smile.

“How long ago? W-wait, oh god, I’m being insensitive, aren’t I? That’s insensitive. I didn’t mean to—” she starts nervously babbling.

“You’re not, Cher,” you let out an airy laugh, “It’s been a little over a year and a half. It was a car accident,” you tell her, knowing she probably wanted to ask but was already feeling remorseful.

”So it’s just me and my mom now,” you say, dabbing the blush brush into the powder.    

Cherry’s sad eyes look down as she fiddles with her fingers in her lap, not knowing what to say. You begin applying the peach powder on the apples of her cheeks.

“But you were right,” you break the silence. “I am a daddy’s girl, but he also would have thought it was super cool that I was going to a rock show.” You smile fondly at the thought.

Cherry smiles, and her body is no longer tense. She gets a view of her reflection in your vanity mirror and gasps.

“Oh my gosh, look at me! If they made a punk rock Barbie, it’d look like me,” Cherry laughs.

”Hey, no fair. You weren’t supposed to see yet,” you fake pout, “I still have to do my finishing touches.”

You twist open a tube of lip gloss and apply it to Cherry’s lips. Your tongue sticks out slightly as you focus, and Cherry pokes at it with her finger, causing you both to giggle.

“Okay! All done,” you back up, admiring your work, “I have finished my new masterpiece. You were pretty before, but now you’re pretty with sparkly eyelids,” you smile proudly.

Cherry gets up and hooks your arms together, dragging you to the full-length mirror to check out your final looks. She is wearing a black leather mini-dress that fits her like a second skin; she looks phenomenal.

“Damn, we look hot!” she exclaims, “Wait till the crowd gets a look at us. I bet the whole audience won’t even be watching the band play; they’ll be too focused on us,” she jokes.

“I hope Jungkookie thinks I look good,” you giggle as you fix some strands of your hair.

“Barbs,” Cherry’s voice now a bit cautious, “You don’t like Jungkook for real, right? Like, have feelings for him?”

“I do,” you nod, your eyes brightening, “Why is something wrong? Does he have a girlfriend already?” you question, worried.

“No, he doesn’t,” she shakes her head.

Your shoulders relax at her answer.

“But,” she continues, “I don’t think Jungkook is the best fit for you,” she rushes to explain when she sees you frown.

“He’s my friend, don’t get me wrong. I get it if you have a crush on him; he’s a good-looking guy. I just don’t think,” she pauses to think over her words, “You’re such a sweet girl, but Jungkook isn’t the type of guy to commit. And when it comes to girls, he isn’t the nicest, and I don’t want you to take him not liking you back personally.”

“He doesn’t have to like me back; me liking him is enough for me,” you shrug and give her a grin. “I think he’s the most handsome guy ever, and I want to get close to him.”

“He doesn’t open up that easily, so don’t take him not being the most caring to heart. He doesn’t consider others where feelings are concerned. You’re my friend, too, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

You pull Cherry into a hug, and she rubs your back. When you pull away, you smile.

“Don’t worry about me, Cherry. I like being around him; there’s no harm in that. I won’t get hurt.”

She nods, “Okay, but still, just be careful, alright?”

You nod, and she sighs, “Then, with that, let’s get going, Barbs. Yoongi will have my head if we’re late.”

☾☀︎

You and Cherry enter the bar arm-in-arm, and the smell of sweat, alcohol, and smoke hits you. The aged dark wood reveals how old this dingy bar is. It maintains its historical familiarity, but a few newer elements show the renovations made to keep the place relevant for younger patrons.

The venue is full of people, bustling with life when you arrive. The two of you push through the packed crowd to the front of the stage, with Cherry leading. You navigate through the crowd with relative ease, thanks to her aggressive elbowing, while your eyes wander all over, scanning the mass of people, all about to see Army of Bombs perform.

“There are so many people, it’s like they’re celebrities,” you lean over, speaking directly into Cherry’s ear due to the noise of the patrons, the soft clinking of glasses, loud drunken chatter, others laughing boisterously in their groups.

“In this town, they are. Almost everyone knows of them or at least has seen them play before,” Cherry tells you, leaning in as well.

The lights overhead dim, and then the crowd erupts out into cheers. You can feel the energy pulsing through the air. You and Cherry stand pressed close together, shoulders touching as she keeps a secure arm around you to keep together amongst the upcoming chaos. You can see the silhouettes of the band as they take their positions. You find Jungkook’s figure right away. The stage lights turn on as Jimin takes the mic, and the feedback rings through the speakers.

“What’s up, everyone? We are Army of Bombs! Hope you’re ready to rock out!” he yells before turning and nodding to Namjoon.

Namjoon does the count-off, and the set begins with the last hit of his sticks. Jungkook plays the opening note to the first song, followed by Jimin’s voice as the rest of the band joins in.

The bar’s atmosphere becomes electric with the music, the audience’s screams, the many devil’s horns raised in the air, and the headbanging. The guys are performing their all, but your eyes remain on Jungkook: how fast his fingers move on his guitar strings during his solos, how his melodic voice resounds as he sings backup, and how his body glides around on stage in tune with the melody so effortlessly. The lights shine down, glistening as sweat accumulates on him, and you’ve never seen someone look so angelic and sinful all at once.

You and Cherry get lost in the music, jumping up and down while you sing along to songs that you have now memorized. All too soon, the last notes of the final song of the set fade, and the crowd roars, chanting the band’s name.

The guys all come to the edge of the stage out of breath, bowing and sending out waves and winks to the audience, basking in the glory. Jungkook pushes back his sweat-dampened hair, chest heaving as his eyes sweep the crowd; they find you.

His gaze lingers on you longer than usual, and you swear everything else fades; you two are the only people in the room as your eyes lock. The world moves in slow motion. You get tunnel vision; he is all you can see, and all the screams become white noise. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears and feel your blood rushing through your veins. But then the spell breaks, and he’s walking off the stage with the rest of the band.

You feel a tap on your shoulder and spin around, spotting Seokjin standing behind you and Cherry.

“Hey, Shoulders,” you wave.

“Hey, I had to make sure the VIPs of our fan club attended the after-party. I’m heading backstage to meet the guys; I gotta talk to the bar manager, but we’ll be at the lounge afterwards, so meet us there,” Seokjin points his thumb over his shoulder behind him.

“Okay, see you guys there,” Cherry nods.

Seokjin walks through the mass of people and disappears, heading backstage. Once he’s gone, Cherry grabs your hand and leans in to speak to you.

“Let’s go touch up our makeup first,” she says, and you nod. You let her lead the way to the restrooms, holding your hand.

☾☀︎

With the time it takes the two of you to wait in line for the restroom, freshen up your makeup, and elbow your way to the lounge, the guys are already there.

When you approach the entrance to the lounge, a security guard is blocking it. Cherry yells over his shoulder to get Yoongi’s attention. When he sees you two, he walks over and pats the security on the back, telling him to let you two in.

Cherry wraps her arms around Yoongi’s neck, kissing him on the lips and complimenting him on how much of a good show it was, and you think you see a blush form on his cheeks. You smile at their interaction and decide to give them a moment alone.

You look around, hoping to spot Jungkook, but there are too many people in the lounge to get a view of everybody. You spot Namjoon standing in a corner talking to some people, so you go to him.

He shifts his head while in conversation, and once he notices you approaching, he smiles and hugs you.

“Great show, Joonbug!” you speak loudly over the music playing.

“Thanks, I’m glad you made it. I told you it was way different than rehearsals, didn’t I,” Namjoon nudges your elbow with his.

”It was insane; it was like you guys were different people. I felt like I didn’t know you at all,” you laugh, and he does as well.

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. Invitation is always open to our shows; you’re more than welcome to them.”

“I will! I got told I am a VIP of your fan club, so I can’t disappoint,” you wink, “By the way, where’s everyone else? I want to congratulate them on the show,” you swivel your head around; finally asking the question that you have been itching to ask.

You follow the direction he points to with the neck of his beer bottle and see the rest of the band sitting on the couches surrounded by people, primarily women. You try to mask the frown that threatens to take over your face when you notice Jungkook sitting between two girls, his arm resting on the back of the couch as the girl on his right leans into his side.

Ignoring the twist of your stomach, you saunter over to the couches with your head held high. When you are close enough, Jungkook’s eyes flicker in your direction absentmindedly, and just as he glances away, he does a subtle double take once he registers it’s you approaching. He gives you a discreet up and down as you walk closer.  

Hoseok notices you, already seeming to be a bit tipsy; his arms shoot up like he just shot a goal.

“You made it!” he smiles, his voice booming.

You wave nervously as everyone’s attention lands on you, but your face flushes from having Jungkook in front of you. Jimin and Taehyung give you a much more blatant scan of your body up and down with approving smirks on their face.

Taehyung rests his drink on the glass table in front of the couch and gets up to give you a tight hug. When he lets go, his hands run down your arm, squeezing your hand as he steps back to glance over your outfit again.

“My, my. Shortstack, don’t you look extra lovely tonight,” he says.

“Lovely? She looks fucking hot!” Cherry appears beside you, wrapping an arm around you in a side hug, causing Taehyung’s hand to let go.

“I was going to be gentlemanly with my words, but yeah, you look fucking incredible, Shorty,” Jimin shoots you a wink, raising his bottle.  

“Thank you,” you smile bashfully.

“Speaking of incredible, the performance was fantastic! You all looked so so so cool, you sounded so so so good, and—and everything was just amazing!” you beam, bouncing in place.

“You know how to boost a man’s ego, Y/N,” Hoseok chuckles.

You continue brightly, speaking to Jungkook, “Your guitar playing was really, really awesome, Jungkookie!”

Jungkook raises his brows and stretches his mouth in a tight line, his dimples emerging even though he does not smile.

“Wow, Y/N, I’m sad. You’re just going to ignore your cheer captain without even saying hi?” a voice makes you turn your head.

You failed to catch that the girl sitting to the right of Jungkook was none other than Jess, and with a quick scan, you soon see Mei sitting on his left and Kat sitting next to Jimin. A frown threatens to break out on your face for the second time when you see Jungkook’s arm resting on the backrest behind her. Somehow, it bugs you more now that you know the girl.

You compose yourself, keeping your voice bright, “Oh, Jess, I’m sorry I didn’t know it was you. Hi!”

“I didn’t think I would run into you here. I didn’t know this was your kind of scene,” Jess says, eyes raking over you in a judgemental manner you don’t pick up on.

But Cherry instantly does, and alarm bells go off as she carefully observes Jess’s behaviour. Jungkook sits silently and watches your interaction.

“They invited me to the show; they’re my friends,” you smile as you gesture to the guys.

“Friends, huh?” Jess turns to Jungkook, tilting her head with a fake pout and laying a hand on his chest, “Where was my invite? I thought we were friends?”

Jungkook shrugs in response, taking a sip of his drink. Your breath hitches at their contact, but you keep calm.

Cherry pulls you to sit down with her, and you find yourself sitting directly in front of Jungkook.

“Y/N is designing our band logo for us since she is an art genius,” Jimin says to Jess and motions to you.

“Ah! So you’re working for them,” Jess nods to herself as if she finally understands the situation.

Cherry narrows her eyes but grins as she speaks, “More like she’s a friend helping out; she’s doing the band a huge favour.”

“Well, AoB is the hottest band in town,” Jess rubs a hand along Jungkook’s thigh with her eyes fixed on him.

Your heart clenches. For one, because Jungkook accepts Jess’s touch and welcomes it—something he doesn’t do with you. Also, because she’s pretty, and a pretty boy like Jungkook belongs with a pretty girl like her.

She continues looking at you with a smile.“So I hope you’re able to design something worthy.”

“I hope so too!” you answer warm and cheerfully, oblivious.

“She will,” Cherry says curtly to Jess before switching her attention to Seokjin, “So what did you talk to the manager about?”

“Oh, right!” he claps, remembering his previous conversation. “He was so impressed with the response we received from the crowd that he offered us a full weekend gig! Friday to Sunday, baby!” he hollers.

The band also celebrates, with high fives going all around. You even catch a hint of a smile on Jungkook’s face.

“Fuck yeah!” Jimin fist pumps.

“What are we celebrating?” Namjoon asks as he and Yoongi join the group. He sits beside you, and Yoongi sits beside Cherry.

“We got offered a full weekend gig here,” Hoseok informs them.

“Man, that’s great! Y/N must have brought us good luck,” Namjoon punches your knee lightly.

“Or the manager must have finally caught up with the rest of town and realized how talented you guys are,” Mei says, fluttering her eyelashes.

Seokjin bypasses her comment, “It’s not for another month, and I’m not trying to rush anyone,” he glances at you, “But it would be a perfect time for us to unveil our logo.”

“That would be sick! Do you think you could finish it by then, Shortstack?”

Feeling put on the spot with everyone’s hopeful eyes on you, you stutter, “U-um, I—”

“Don’t pressure her, you nimrod. Art takes time; she’s not a machine,” Cherry chides him.

“It was just a question,” Taehyung defends with his hands raised.

“A stupid question,” Cherry disputes.

Namjoon leans over to you as they bicker, “There’s no pressure, seriously,” his voice soft. He nudges your knee gently with his.

You look at him and nod with a grateful smile.

“Have you designed a logo before, Y/N?” Jess asks.

“No, this is my first one. I’m so excited to do it.”

“Are you sure you can do it? I’m sure you’re good, but a rock band logo isn’t the same style as painting flowers and trees, right?”

This time, her words sting. It’s a common occurrence—people doubting your art. You don’t let it get to you; you know what you’ve done and what you can do. You don’t have to prove your talents to anyone; your work speaks for itself.

“It is, but I am good. I can do it,” you shrug with an assured tone.

“Enough about the logo. You guys are playing a full weekend; I’ve never heard of a band booking three nights in a row here,” Cherry enthusiastically changes topics.

“I know. The manager said he couldn’t remember the last time he booked the same act for an entire weekend, but the crowd’s reaction blew him away,” Seokjin matches Cherry’s enthusiasm.

“We should write a new song and debut it on our first night, create some extra buzz. What do you say, JK? Up to working on one?” Yoongi says, asking the member who has been silent so far.

Jungkook nods, “I have a few different scores I’ve been working on; I recorded some of them already. I’ll send them to you.”  

Yoongi nods in reply. You’re awestruck by this revelation; it shows on your face and tone of voice.

“You can write scores?”

His eyes shift to you, and he nods as his hands fiddle with the rings on his fingers. Your eyes stay locked on each other until Jess’s voice cuts in.

“He’s a musician; obviously, he can write,” she sneers, with Mei and Kat snickering.

Cherry, fed up, is about to clap back, and her mouth opens, but you speak before she can.

“A lot of musicians don’t know how to write or read music,” You lift your fingers and count, “Jimi Hendrix, Slash, Eddie Van Halen, all of The Beatles, some of the greatest guitarists in rock and none of them could write or read scores. So it’s impressive that he can do both.”

Cherry looks at you with proud eyes, and the guys look at you taken aback. Even Jungkook looks at you with raised brows and wide eyes, although his face is still emotionless.

You fail to see how Jungkook hides his smirk when he raises his beer to take a sip and how his arm no longer rests behind Jess.

You bat your eyelashes, chuckle, and add, “But what am I saying? I’m sure you already know playing an instrument isn’t the same as writing scores, right? Since this is more your scene than mine.”

“Exactly, I meant he’s a trained musician, so of course he knows how to do both,” Jess tries to save face, her eyes shifting in embarrassment, “No need to get all defensive, Y/N.”

“Y-Yeah, Jess knows all about rock,” Kat says. Mei nods in agreement.

Cherry scoffs audibly and grabs your wrist, “Let’s go get drinks before I say something I won’t regret and hurt some feelings,” she glares at the three cheerleaders.

She gets up and pulls you with her. When you both reach the bar, she huffs, rolling her eyes, “Can you believe them? What bitches! The nerve! I’m usually a girl’s girl, but—ugh! I hate girls like them, acting all high and mighty when all they are are a bunch of desperate groupies. I was so fucking close to giving her a piece of my mind.”

She glances at you and smirks, “But I didn’t have to, huh? I didn’t know you had it in you. You sure are full of surprises, Barbs. Where did all of that come from?”

“Me? What did I do?”

“Oh, don’t give me that! I know you were giving her a taste of her own medicine. You kept your innocent demeanour but were quick with your comeback about guitarists. How do you even know all that anyway?”

“It’s just something I know,” you say casually with a shrug, hoping to bypass the topic.

Luckily, the bartender comes over before Cherry can say anything else. She tells him her drink order and looks over at you, to which you shake your head, not wanting to drink tonight. When the bartender walks away to make her mojito, she leans in to speak to you.

“I have to pee,” Cherry says as she looks towards the restrooms. “Can you grab my drink and wait for me here?”

You nod and give her a thumbs up, not bothering to give a vocal response over the music. She returns the gesture and manoeuvres through the sea of people.

You puff out your cheeks as you wait, tapping your fingers on the glass bar while staring at the shelves of alcohol bottles on the wall behind the counter illuminated by red and blue lights.

When you feel a hand on your lower back, you turn with a small smile, stunned at how quickly Cherry peed, but instead of your vibrant-haired friend, you face a sweaty, tipsy, dishevelled man.

The man is drenched in sweat but not in a soft glow from dancing. His face is dripping, several beads streaming down. The dark stains on his shirt sticking to his skin are apparent even in the low lighting.

His presence instantly fills you with worry. You step away, sure not to be within arm’s reach of him. He stands in front of you with a greasy smirk; although he is standing in place, his body sways due to intoxication.  

“Hey,” he says over the music, voice a bit louder than necessary.

“Hi,” you reply, leaning over the counter to get a glimpse of the bartender.

The tipsy stranger ducks his head into your view, blocking your line of sight of the bartender. You try to suppress a cringe when the stench of perspiration and booze hits you, burying your nostrils.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing at a place like this? Get lost on your way to an Ariana Grande concert,” he laughs at his lame joke.

“I’m here with friends,” you say, hoping he will leave you alone if you mention you are with people.

It does nothing of the sort, and his smirk widens, “Hmm, with friends, so not with a boyfriend?” he asks, his speech slurred.

“Um—”

He interrupts, stepping towards you, invading your space again, “If I were your boyfriend, I would never let you out of my sight. A sexy woman like you should never be left alone.”

His bloodshot, predatory eyes and creepy attempt at flirting were making you extra uncomfortable; drunk guys and rejection often led to anger, and you did not want this guy to become aggressive with you.

“I-I’m not alone; my friend will be back soon,” you glance over your shoulder, pointing to the restrooms. “Uh, so—”

“I’ll keep you company then. It’s not safe for a gorgeous girl like you here,” he licks his lips and coats them sloppily with his saliva, taking a step closer to you. He leans in, his wet lips disgustingly brushing the shell of your ear, “There are plenty of bad men just waiting to get their hands on a sweet thing like you.”

With the crowd surrounding you, you cannot back away from him. As a sense of panic begins to form in the pit of your stomach, you internally scold yourself for not walking away from this guy the second he approached you.

You try to muster your refusal, but the lump in your throat makes it hard to speak, “I don’t—No, I don’t want—”

You feel physically ill. Your breathing starts to pick up, and your palms turn clammy as they raise to push at the creep’s chest to create even the smallest distance between you two.

Suddenly, the drunk creep is yanked back by the back of his shirt, sending him stumbling back into the people behind him. He barely manages to catch himself with a hand on the bar.

A gasp leaves you, but despite the slight chaos, so does your panic. The man’s red, glassy eyes widen and match yours in shock. Your body stiffens. Slowly, you both turn your heads towards the source, your heartbeat pounding. Your eyes remain the same while his eyes narrow into slits filled with irritation as your sights land on your saviour. And as much as it adds to your shock, instant relief takes over your body, and you visibly relax as you release a breath.

“Everything okay here?”

Jungkook stands beside you, his stance intimidating. Towering with his hands in his front pockets, he shows no sign of agitation, but his stern calmness and his strong physique show he is not to be messed with.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? What’s your problem?” the drunkard spits out, too intoxicated to recognize this is one of the guys he just watched perform.

“You good?” he asks, focused on you, completely ignoring the man.

“We were just having some friendly conversation, right, doll?” the persistent creep slurs his interjections, sending you a wink.

“I didn’t ask you,” Jungkook retorts sharply.

“We were just talking, bro. Ease up,” the man tries to defuse the tense encounter he has got himself in.

“Were you guys talking?” Jungkook looks down at you, waiting for your answer.

You look at him with big, uneasy eyes and shake your head.

Jungkook steps in front of you, blocking your view of your harasser. His firm body acts as a shield. You feel so small standing behind him but have never felt more protected, more safe.

Jungkook narrows his eyes in a glare with his chest puffed out, “Looks like now you’re done talking; conversation over. Bro.”

With way too much pride and ignorance, in an attempt to get in Jungkook’s face, the drunk takes a step forward, but instead of standing nose to nose, the men stand nose to chin.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” the creep sneers.

But Jungkook doesn’t move. He doesn’t budge.

Jungkook tilts his head, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. He almost looks amused, but there is nothing funny about the way he lets out a snicker through his nose and bends slightly, burning gaze staring the man dead in the eye to say,

“The guy telling you to fuck off.”

There are about three seconds of them having a stare-down. Jungkook is unrelenting, his confident yet harsh stance unmoving.

The drunkard cracks under the unnerving pressure, and his alcohol-induced cockiness falters. Accepting the evident disparity between the two and becoming reconciled to the physical disadvantage he is at, the drunk finally gives up. With a parting huff, he mutters one last expletive and stumbles away.

You are still left with some remaining shock, partly from that whole interaction and also partly from Jungkook coming to your rescue. Relief could barely settle in your chest before it’s ripped away.

“Thank you, Jungk—”

Jungkook turns around, runs his tatted fingers through his hair, and his eyes settle on you, annoyed.

Your breath hitches, your entire body frozen in place. Jungkook had just jumped in and rescued you from a drunken creep. Yet, there isn’t a single ounce of sympathy in his expression—only irritation. It feels as though you have caused him an inconvenience. Gone is the protective man who was an impenetrable defender. Now stands an uncaring, vexed man.

He clicks his tongue.

“If you can’t hold your own, you shouldn’t come to places like this,” he gestures around vaguely, unimpressed.

“I-I’m sorry, I—”

“Everything’s not all sunshine and rainbows all the time. There isn’t always gonna be someone around to babysit you and come to your defence.”

You are stunned in silence, not expecting to be reprimanded for being cornered by some intoxicated jerk and saddened that this is the most Jungkook has ever spoken to you.

“What? You’re constantly running your mouth and suddenly have nothing to say. Where did all that insufferable boldness go?” he scoffs, continuing, “I mean, you’re a chick at a bar; you didn’t expect some tipsy guy to make a pass at you? You seriously can’t be that naive, Y/N.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself not to cry. Not here. Not in front of Jungkook.

For the first time since meeting him, Jungkook’s gaze is unwanted. You wish his attention were on someone else as you hang your head in shame and embarrassment.

It stings that this is the most you’ve ever heard him speak and the most emotion you’ve ever seen him express, but it’s nothing like what you’ve dreamt of; it’s all negative. It’s hurtful.

That familiar feeling surges back within you: being berated, talked down to, made to feel small.

Overwhelmed by everything that has happened—Jess, the drunk creep, and now Jungkook—all these confrontations are beginning to take a toll on you. You feel your throat tighten, and your breathing picks up once again.

“I d-didn’t—”

“I’m back! Sorry, that line was killer. I swear I was about to piss myself,” Cherry returns. Surprise on her face at seeing Jungkook with you, she quickly looks between you two, sensing the tension and scanning your face; she gently touches your upper arm, “Hey, you okay?”

Still avoiding looking at Jungkook, you sheepishly give Cherry a nod and a tight smile. Jungkook’s gaze drags a quick once-over, a slow run of his tongue over his lip rings, and a sniff before he lets out a frustrated sigh.

“If you insist on bringing her here, watch after your friend.”

Jungkook walks away, and from your peripheral vision, you see the same broad back that was protecting you minutes ago disappear into the crowd.

“What the hell is his problem?” Cherry says as she watches him walk away. “Did something happen? Was he mean to you? I’ll kick his ass if he was an ass to you.”

With a hand still on your upper arm, she uses her other to point in the direction Jungkook walked off to and is already taking a step forward to go after him.

You frantically shake your head, pulling her back by her wrist.

“No, no, he helped me. There, um, there was this creepy guy who was drunk and was bothering me. Jungkookie made him leave me alone.”

Cherry doesn’t hide the astonishment on her face; her eyebrows shoot up so high that if they go any higher, they will touch her hairline.

“Jungkook? He helped you?” she asks in disbelief.

You find her reaction interesting; Jungkook is standoffish, but was it so shocking that he would help someone in need? Even someone as aloof as him would swoop in when they see a damsel in distress and save them, so it shouldn’t be such a shock to his good friend. Right?

Or was this really out of the norm for Jungkook? And if so, why did he save you?

You nod.

“Oh…” Cherry glances in the direction Jungkook went, and after coming out of whatever thoughts were running through her mind, she turns back to you in worry, “Well, what about you? Are you sure you’re alright? He didn’t do anything to you, did he?”

“No, I’m okay. The guy got a bit too close, but Jungkookie showed up before he could do anything,” you reassure her, putting on the best smile you can muster right now.

Her eyes flicker over your face, assessing your expression to be sure you’re telling the truth, and she takes your word with a worried nod. She pulls you into a hug as she sighs in relief.

“Okay, good. I’m glad someone was here to help you. I would have hated myself if my bladder had created the opening for some drunk creep to get to you,” Cherry shudders at the thought, “That fucker, though! What’s with tonight? I’m so sorry, Barbs. I did not want your first AoB show to turn out like this.”

“Don’t feel bad about it, Cher. I’m honestly okay,” you squeeze her hand and gesture around at the bar, “And no offence, but I didn’t expect this place to be crawling with prince charmings,” you giggle, attempting to lighten the mood regarding how the night went.

Cherry also glances around and giggles, “Fair, and hey, I mean, I did say we look hot. I should have been on high alert for creeps. Hotties like us always have to be on the radar for hopeless losers,” she rolls her eyes, smirking.

“I think Yoongs was keeping the losers at bay for you, you know, with his… face,” you wave a hand over your face and laugh.

“Yeah, gotta love my Yoongi the Grouch,” Cherry smiles fondly, her eyes twinkling at the topic of her boyfriend, “He’s like my own personal creep deflector. We should get back to him before we start attracting them,” Cherry grabs her mojito, the glass now covered in condensation.

“Do you mind if I go home? There has been a lot of excitement for me for one night. I’m still getting used to this rock and roll lifestyle.”

“Sure, let me finish this drink and tell Yoongi; then we can head out.”

“You don’t have to leave because of me. I can go on my own; I don’t want to ruin your night,” your words trail off as Cherry sends you a look.

“Barbs, I invited you. We came together, and we’re leaving together. I have been to enough shows; I know I’m not missing anything. Plus, I would never let you go alone at this time. Are you crazy? What kind of friend would I be?”

You smile, this one reaching your eyes. You have to blink back tears. Cherry’s friendship is unwavering; she is one of a kind.

With that, Cherry lifts her drink to her lips and chugs it down like it’s water, and you two are off to tell Yoongi that you’re heading out.

When you return to the lounge, subconsciously, your eyes find Jungkook. He’s back to sitting on the couch with Jess tucked into his side as if he never left that spot. You catch his eyes flicker over to you so briefly that you almost doubt it even happened.

Yoongi notices Cherry return without a drink and gives her a questioning look. She leans down slightly to speak to him.

“We’re going to go home now; tonight’s been a lot for Y/N,” Cherry tells him. Without Cherry even asking, Yoongi nods, downs the rest of his beer, and gets up to leave with the two of you.

“No way! You guys are going? You can’t leave yet!” Hoseok calls out.

Namjoon smirks at you, “Party too hard, Little Picasso?”

“I was right; this isn’t your scene after all, huh?” Jess remarks with that antagonizing smile you are becoming familiar with. Mei and Kat snickered at her remark.

“No, some drunk bastard was harassing her,” Cherry speaks for you.

That shuts Jess up quickly and catches the band’s attention. Jungkook sits up straighter as his body tenses. The rest of the guys focus on you, their faces now serious.

Jimin and Taehyung stand up, “Are you okay, Shortstack? Did he touch you?”

“I’m okay,” you smile, shaking your head lightly.

“Who was the son of a bitch? We’ll find him and take care of him,” Jimin says.

You wave your hands to stop them.

“It’s fine now. You guys don’t have to. It—He’s been taken care of,” you tell the guys to calm them down, your eyes going to Jungkook for a fraction of a second.

Jungkook, who is still avoiding looking your way, is biting on his lip rings—but otherwise seemingly totally removed from the conversation.

“I don’t want to cause trouble,” your voice is smaller than usual, but your eyes are as big as a scared puppy, and you can feel your face heat up again from all the unwanted attention you’re causing.

“We can’t let him get off scot-free, especially doing something like that on our night here and to one of our crew,” Namjoon remarks.

Being called part of their crew doesn’t go unnoticed by you, but you are too worried about them causing a ruckus because of you, especially after the whole Jungkook thing, his words still lingering in your head.

“There isn’t always gonna be someone around to babysit you and come to your defence.”

“She’s right; he’s been dealt with already,” Cherry says, her eyes locking on Jungkook, who meets her gaze, holding it for a moment, then continues, “I don’t think he’ll be a problem again. Y/N wants to get out of here, and I can’t blame her. I would want to call it a night, too.”

Reluctantly, the guys settle down, and Taehyung pulls you into a hug and cranes his neck to look at your face, “This didn’t scare you off from coming to our shows, right?”

“Y/N? Are you kidding? Nah, she just joined the fan club; I even made her a VIP. Of course not,” Seokjin says, winking and playfully ruffling your hair.

The drastic change of now being flooded with words and touches of comfort warms you and melts away the anxiousness.

“Yeah, I can’t give up my spot that quickly,” you laugh.

“Well, just to be sure, I’m promoting you to fan club president, so it’s mandatory to attend live shows,” Taehyung narrows his eyes and points at you.

“Yes, sir!” you bring your hand to your brow in a salute.

“Get some rest, Prez. We’ll see you at rehearsal,” Jimin bids you farewell, hugging you tight and kissing the top of your head.

Hoseok and Namjoon also hug you goodbye. While hugging Namjoon perched on your tiptoes, you glance at Jungkook over Namjoon’s shoulder.

Jungkook, with his typical impassive expression, has his arm back to resting on the backrest behind Jess. He faces her as she leans into him, whispering in his ear, her nails running up and down his thigh, her hand getting close to his crotch; you’re sure her fingers have grazed over it.

You tear your eyes away once you feel a hand pat your back, “Let’s get you home, kid,” Yoongi says gently.

You give him a soft nod and smile, turning to leave. With your back turned, you’re unaware of how Jungkook’s eyes trail after you. Jess, however, is very aware; she follows his gaze when she sees how uninterested he is in her flirty words and wandering hands.

You hear a voice call out.

“I’ll see you at practice Monday morning, Y/N,” Jess says with her phoney smile, her hand still inappropriately gripping Jungkook’s thigh.

You plaster on a smile that matches hers and seal it with a friendly wave.

“See you bright and early Monday, Captain!” you hesitate but decide to continue, “Bye, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook appears surprised by how his eyes widen slightly, his brows twitching, but you get no other kind of acknowledgement of your goodbye. Not a word, a wave, not even a nod.

You and Cherry tell the guys one last goodbye, and Yoongi gives them a nod before you three make your way to the exit and bring an end to this eventful night.

“I should’ve asked her what the guy looked like. I could’ve told the manager to keep an eye out for him,” Seokjin mentions after your departure.

“The girls made it sound like he won’t show his face around here anymore, but we can tell them to let us know if he does,” Namjoon says.

What you don’t know, what the guys don’t know, is that Jungkook did talk to the manager. He had him check the cameras and pointed out the guy. The drunkard is banned from the bar now.

☾☀︎

You are at cheerleading practice, doing some warmup stretches with Rina by your side. Today, the team is supposed to be running through a routine for an upcoming game; this will be your first performance since joining the team, and you are so excited to experience that rush again.  

You are helping Rina stretch, holding her leg down, when you see Jess and her minions walking across the field towards the team.

Jess jumps into business without greeting the team; she claps her hands twice and yells, “Okay, into your starting positions! You should all have this down by now; if not, don’t bother. I expect perfection.”

Practice ensues, and it’s not the smoothest. Some people make minor mistakes: a little stumble, timing a bit off, pose slightly mispositioned. But Jess watches them like a hawk, scrutinizing everyone’s performance or sending Mei or Kat to chastise them immediately if she doesn’t do it herself.

As the end of practice nears, the field erupts into mild chaos as the football team arrives, gathering for their practice. Their booming voices and boyish roughhousing practically take over the area. The quarterback, Mingyu, walks away from his team; the players are huddled at the side of the field by the bleachers while waiting their turn.

He approaches Jess, Mei, and Kat. He is still far from them when he calls, “Hey, Jess. Are you guys coming to the party tonight?”

You are performing the routine flawlessly, as you always do when Jess stops when she reaches you as she makes her rounds around the team.

There hasn’t been any mention of seeing each other that night at AoB’s show, so you thought Jess had moved past it. The little back and forth you two had was probably so minuscule in her whirlwind of a life that she must have forgotten about it already.

“Hey, Gyu, hmm, I don’t know. Jungkook and I were supposed to hang out tonight. Unless he’s going, too,” Jess turns to you, “Y/N, you’re friends with Jungkook and his band, right? Do you know if they’re going to the party?”

“I don’t know, they haven’t mentioned anything,” you shrug, “But if you already have plans with him, why would he go to a party? ” you ask, slightly out of breath.

Rina’s eyes widen beside you, and Mingyu laughs lightly with his head down. You are unaware and lost in your genuine curiosity when Mei interjects.

“Well, obviously, if he didn’t mention it, then he’s not going because he has plans with Jess,” she narrows her eyes at you.

“You can hang out at the party; it’s gonna be wild! You know how we Borahae Bears get down! You should still pull up. All of you,” Mingyu says loud enough for everyone to hear, motioning to the cheer team.

Mingyu speaks directly to you when he adds, “Tell Jungkook and the guys to come, you as well,” he smiles.

“Thanks! I’m going to their rehearsal later, so I’ll let them know,” you smile back at him.

“And if I talk to him first, I’ll tell him,” Jess adds.

“R-Right,” Mingyu nods stiffly, his eyes shifting between you and Jess.

“Well, I should go start getting ready for practice,” Mingyu points a thumb over his shoulder, “But I’ll hopefully see you all tonight,” he flashes a wink before turning around and jogging back to his team.

“A party sounds like a lot of fun!” you say to Rina with a big grin, softly clapping your hands.

With you not facing her, Jess narrows her eyes at you while clenching her hands into fists, yelling, “Practice is over!”

You flinch at the sound and see her spinning around and storming off the field with Mei and Kat running after her.

☾☀︎

Since the night at the bar, things haven’t changed regarding your interactions with Jungkook—or lack of interaction, you should say. You’ve been attending the band’s rehearsals as usual, and just as he was before, Jungkook ignores your entire existence. But of course, just as you were before, you don’t let that stop you.

Despite his harsh words, you can’t forget how he was like your knight in shining armour that night. After spending a month in his presence, he may not treat you like a friend or be as cordial as you would like, but he was there for you when you needed help. He stepped up without being asked and protected you. To you, that means something, so even if he continues to ignore you, you won’t ignore him.

Jungkook can keep up his cold, grumpy attitude, but you know, within him, there is a kind man. What he said to you may have been hurtful at the moment, but when you reflected on it in bed that night, his words sounded more like a lecture for your safety than an insult. And although he may disregard you, he has never really been rude to you despite your persistent efforts to get close to him.

So tonight, like every other time you’ve entered the garage, you say hello to all the guys present—including Jungkook.

“I’m here!” you sing, dragging out the words as you skip in, still in your cheer uniform and, of course, with a lollipop in your mouth. It’s watermelon flavour today. And once again, Mrs Lee didn’t let you pay; something about that being the last one of that flavour, so there was no point in charging you for it.

“Hey, Prez,” Jimin smiles as he looks you over, “Had practice today?”

“Mhm,” you nod, “Hey, Jungkookie!”

Jungkook keeps tuning his guitar without raising his head to spare you a glance. Taehyung, standing beside him, gives him a serious look, “Dude.”

Jungkook raises his head, “Hi,” lowers it and resumes tuning his guitar.

Taehyung rolls his eyes, swinging his bass around to hang behind him, “Hey, Shortstack, how was practice? Were you getting thrown around in the air today?”

“No, not today, Taetae,” you giggle, “But I did tumble a lot today; look how red my hands are!”

You pop your lollipop into your mouth and hold your palms up in his face, “I’m going to end up with ugly, rough hands like you guys,” your words mumble due to the candy as you pout with a slight grimace.

Taehyung grabs your wrists with a fond smile, then furrows his brows as he pretends to examine your hands, “Well, aren’t you one tough cookie.”

You smile—wait, cookie, cookie. Hmm, why does that remind you of something? Cookie? Cook? Jungkoo—Jungkookie! Right!

You gasp, startling the members; even Jungkook’s head shoots up. He watches you sceptically as you approach him.

“I almost forgot! Jungkookie, I’m supposed to tell you about the party.”

“What party?” Cherry jumps in, asking as she and the rest of the members walk through the door, entering the garage from inside.

She walks over and throws an arm around your shoulder as you answer, “The football leader told me to tell Jungkookie and the guys to come to his party. What did he say… teddy bear party?” You tap your chin, thinking.

“Football leader? Do you mean the captain, Mingyu? The Bears are having a party?” Namjoon asks with an amused grin.

“Mingyu! That’s his name!”

“Sometimes I forget you hang around those frat douches,” Cherry says.

“You know, I think I remember Jaehyun telling me about the Bears having a party at the frat house,” Jimin comments.

“Why would Mingyu tell you to tell JK about the party?” Hoseok asks.

“During practice, Jess asked me if you all were going, even though she has plans with Jungkookie tonight,” you point to Jungkook with your candy. He looks confused by what you’re saying, but you continue, “But I told her I didn’t know, so Mingyu said you all should go. He invited the cheer team, too!”

“You have plans with that bitch?” Cherry asks Jungkook.

“No,” Jungkook shakes his head, then juts it to you, “I don’t know what she’s going on about.”

“Jess said you’re hanging out with her tonight. You’re not?” you ask Jungkook, looking up with big, hopeful eyes.

He looks down at you, surprisingly meeting your gaze, “No, I’m not,” he sighs.

You release a breath and can’t hold back the smile on your face, “Oh... okay,” you break eye contact, looking down at your feet as you blush. His stare and words take over you; you honestly didn’t expect a direct response from him.

Cherry squeezes your shoulder, “You seriously wanna go to this party?”

“Yeah, I have to! My friend on the team is going, and I told her I would go,” you see the look of reluctance on Cherry’s face.

“Pretty, pretty please! The muscle bear said it would be fun,” you add, attempting to convince her.

“Wait, did I hear you say the cheer team is going? Like the whole team? As in multiple cheerleaders at one party?” Jimin asks you.

You nod.

And Jimin turns to the band with a firm nod and says,

“We are going to this party.“

☾☀︎

The frat house comes into view, music already pumping through the walls. You can hear the music as you walk up the porch steps, the bass thumping through the floorboards under your feet. People pack the house from the inside to the backyard; even the front lawn has a few partygoers scattered. You’re arm in arm with Cherry as you step into the house, with Yoongi and Namjoon behind you, having chosen to come here with you two instead of leaving with the others. A decision they later regretted if their groans about how long you two took to get ready are any indication.

“Okay, first objective: find the alcohol. If I’m going to be mingling among jocks, I need to be intoxicated,” Cherry announces.

The three of you chuckle at her, but the guys lead the way to the kitchen anyway. You glance around, bodies swaying to the beat on the makeshift dancefloor in the living room, pairs locking lips against the walls, a rowdy game of beer pong in the corner. Your eyes fail to find any familiar faces; although you don’t catch sight of a certain doe-eyed boy, you are scanning the place in search of Rina.

You refocus when a red solo cup gets shoved into your hands. You sniff it, scrunching your nose at the strong smell; nevertheless, you cheers with Cherry and down the drink—tequila, oh God, it’s tequila— in one go. Once the shot burns its way down your throat, you ask Namjoon to mix you a drink, asking for something much sweeter this time.

With your drink in hand, you pull Cherry in, “I have to try and find Rina.”

She nods and turns to say something in Yoongi’s ear; he nods at her in reply, and then you are off to search for your teammate. Luckily, you don’t have to search for too long; you’re passing the beer pong table when you notice a head of strawberry blonde hair sitting on the sofa nearby. You grab a hold of Cherry’s wrist as you guide her over with you.

“Rina!” you call out.

Only when you get closer do you see that she is sitting with none other than the guy who invited the team himself: Mingyu. Rina pauses midcoversation, turning away from him.

“Y/N!” she jumps up and smiles as she swoops you into a hug. You chuckle at your seemingly already intoxicated friend.

“This is Rina, my closest friend on the cheer team,” you say to Cherry, then switch to Rina, “And this is my bestie for the resties, Cherry.”

The girls give their greetings after your little introduction, and just as you expected, the three of you get along seamlessly. After a few minutes, Rina seems to remember the football player she was conversing with earlier; she sits back down beside him, bringing him into the conversation, “I was just telling Gyu, I can’t recall the last time I’ve seen so many people enjoying themselves like this. It’s nice.”

The nickname doesn’t go unnoticed by you, nor does the way Mingyu flushes it; you make a note to tease Rina about it another time.

“It is! Thanks again for the invite,” you say to Mingyu.

“Don’t mention it,” he flicks his hand, “The football and cheer team have always had a good bond. Oh, and thanks for extending my invite.”

Mingyu tilts his head to the side, and you turn to see Jimin and Taehyung playing against Hoseok and Seokjin in a game of beer pong. Your eyes wander behind Jimin, landing on Jungkook braced against the wall, drink in hand.

When you set your sights on him, your knees almost give out. He looks hot—somehow hotter than usual. He is wearing his signature baggy jeans and black chunky combat boots; his black leather jacket, unzipped to display how his fitted white shirt hugs his firm body that sets you off, and his fingers, clad with several silver rings, send you right over the edge.

Beside him stands Jess, who is without her two sidekicks for the first time. She is leaning into him, whispering in his ear, and you get a sense of Deja Vu; images of them from that night at the bar flash through your mind, but you shake them out.

Jungkook said he didn’t have plans with her. She’s here because Mingyu invited her to the party. Jungkook wouldn’t lie to you—or at least he has no reason to. If they had plans to hang out together, he would have just said so.

Last time, your disappointment held you back from interfering, but this time, you have the warmth and courage of alcohol coursing through your veins. So, with a confident stride, you head in their direction.

“Prez!” a very tipsy Jimin stops you, tackling you into an embrace.

“Hey, Chimchim,” you pat his back.

He pulls back, but his hands remain on your shoulders, clutching them, “Thank you for reminding me about this party, Prez. This is amazing! You are the best! Forget president! You are officially the queen of the fan club,” he slurs.

“Man, how are you already this far gone?” Cherry walks over.

“Cher!”

He tackles her next, swaying their bodies back and forth. Now free from the shackles that are Jimin, you spin around and find your target with his eyes already on you. You don’t let it sway you.

You exhale sharply, then force yourself to meet his gaze. And then, with zero hesitation,

“Hi, Jess,” you give her the briefest of glances, then settle on Jungkook, “Hi, Jungkookie, you look handsome!” you run your hand down one side of his jacket along the zipper.

His eyes widen in shock, and his lips part, but no words come out due to Jess’s interruption.

“Y/N, I see you made it. Jungkook and I were talking about you and your little mix-up earlier. We cleared it up, though; no need to worry.”

She takes a small, almost inconspicuous step forward, her body between you and Jungkook’s. She squeezes your elbow in faux cordiality, and you’re left puzzled.

“Mix-up? What do you mean?”

“At practice today, you misunderstood when I said I wanted to message Jungkook about hanging out at AoB’s next show, for me saying he and I had plans for tonight.”

Now, as much as you may be a bit forgetful, there is no way you mistook how she went on about having plans with Jungkook tonight. She made it clear right when Mingyu mentioned the party.

“No, I didn’t, you said—”

“It’s okay; I understand how you could get confused.”

Jungkook is still looking at you from behind Jess with an expression you can’t determine. Being blamed for something untrue this blatantly with your crush watching would typically embarrass you, but being portrayed as a liar bothers you.

“That’s not what happened, you said—”

“Little Picasso, it looks like you need a refill. Let’s get you one, come on,” Namjoon suddenly comes behind you.

He takes you by the shoulders and guides you to the kitchen; you don’t have time to grasp what’s happening.

Once at the array of bottles, Namjoon begins mixing you a drink. While pouring the liquid into a new red plastic cup, he speaks.

“You shouldn’t let her get to you.”

“Hmm?” you watch him.

“Jess. She’s trying to get a rise out of you, don’t let her.”

“But what she said wasn’t true. I heard her. I would never lie to Jungkookie,” you fret.

There’s a pause as he finishes mixing your drink and hands it to you. He sighs, “People like you are better off staying clear of people like Jess, who provoke others to make themselves feel superior. She’s the kind who will always take the opportunity to walk all over you if you let her.”

“We’re on the same team; I can’t avoid being around her. And she’s the cheer captain, so I can’t be rude to her.”

“I can respect that,” he nods with a sympathetic smile, “But that doesn’t mean you should let yourself get belittled.”

You lower your head, swishing around the drink in your cup.

“She’s patronizing because she feels threatened by you.”

“I never did anything to her,” you pout.

“No, I’m sure you didn’t,” he mulls his words, “Evny comes out without you having to incite it. From what I heard from Cherry, you are an equally talented cheerleader as she is, dare I say more. Among your other great qualities, you also seem to be gaining attention in other areas where she seems to fall short,” he smirks after his statement.

Namjoon looks over at Jungkook and Jess, the latter failing to capture the interest of the man beside her despite her forceful attempts. With your cup covering your view from taking a sip of your drink, Namjoon averts his eyes before you notice.

“Huh?” you wonder what other areas you’re exceeding Jess in.

He shakes his head, bypassing you, and continues.

“There aren’t many people like you, Y/N. You’re a very positive person, and the world needs that. Plenty of things and people will try to test how brightly your light shines but never dim it.”

His words wrap around you like a hug, a much-needed hug. A comfort you didn’t realize you needed till now.

“Thanks, Joonbug,” you smile, but a frown soon takes place, “I don’t like this, though. I don’t care if she doesn’t like me, but I don’t want her to make Jungkookie not like me too.”

“If it makes you feel any better, Jungkook isn’t someone easily deceived; I wouldn’t worry about that,” Namjoon pats your shoulder reassuringly.

☾☀︎

After your talk with Namjoon, Cherry came looking for you with Yoongi in tow, and Cherry, ever the encourager, kept the drinks flowing. One shot became two, and two became seven. You stopped counting drinks during several rounds of beer pong against Hoseok and Taehyung.

How Jimin got cut off by Seokjin but not you two is beyond you.

Now you and she have some concoction of a cocktail in hand as you dance—or try to dance in your heels to the EDM music blasting through the speakers.

After the current song ends, you and Cherry crash down onto the sofa, out of breath and plastered. The party is still in full swing around you. You two chat and giggle about insignificant topics for a while; your sense of time has long gone. There’s a peaceful lull in between when you are both sitting there with your head resting on her shoulder, no talking, just being. Your lingering thoughts break through the pause.

“Cher, do you think I’m naive?”

“Hmm? Where did that come from?”

“Just—” you shrug, “Do you?”

“Yeah, I do.”

The words pierce through the noise of the party; you wince, deflating emotionally and physically. You slouch deeper into the sofa. Cherry doesn’t seem to catch on to the effect of her words, yet she doesn’t stop there.

“You have this… innocence about you. A pureness as if you have been untainted by the world. It makes me want to shield you from it.”

“You don’t think I’m… useless?”

Cherry cranes her neck to look down at you so fast you’re surprised she doesn’t get whiplash. Her eyes widen.

“No! Why would you ask that? Did someone call you useless?” she sits up straight.

You pull her back to sit comfortably and place your head back on her shoulder.

“No. Not recently, anyway; I have been called that before. I was just curious what you think.”

Cherry rests her head against yours.

“Do you think you’re useless?” she asks gently.

You shake your head, “There was a time I did; someone I thought loved me made me doubt myself. I know other people’s opinions don’t matter. But I still care about how the people that matter to me think of me, and you matter to me.”

“I think you are naive, but not in the typical sense. You are one of the wisest people I’ve ever met. And that’s saying something when you know someone like Namjoon,” you both chuckle at that.

Cherry reaches for your hand and holds it.

“It takes a certain kind of person to walk through life so optimistic and unaffected by—well, by life.”

You inflate; your self-esteem is experiencing a huge boost tonight.

“You matter to me too,” she squeezes your hand, “I have always been a protective person, but the guys have always been around to look out for me. Since I’m an only child, I’ve always considered them family, so it’s nice that I have a sister to look out for now.”

The sentimental bubble bursts when Yoongi emerges, smirking down at your bodies on the couch as if dumped there.

“There’s my little boozer,” Yoongi pinches Cherry’s cheek with a grin on his face like a Cheshire cat.

She swats away his hand, and he laughs.

“You ready to head out? I should get you home before your mom sends the cops after me,” he tilts his head towards the front door.

Cherry groans, tossing her head back against the couch.

“Going home means moving. I don’t know if I can manage that,” her eyes are shut while she speaks.

“Again, with the dramatics,” Yoongi grabs her hands and pulls her up with a soft grunt.

“You too, kid. Let’s go,” he reaches out and pulls you up.

The three of you walk to the door, you and Cherry stumbling, Yoongi trying to make sure neither of you falls on your face. When you see Yoongi’s shielding hand on Cherry’s lower back, you remember Jungkook. You were having so much fun in your tipsy state you didn’t realize you hadn’t seen him since you tried talking to him earlier when Jess tried embarrassing you.

The cool night air washes over you; the contrast to the inside instant. The crisp breeze kisses your hot skin, and a shiver runs down your spine as you step onto the porch. The muffled music and laughter echoed from inside; you shut your eyes and inhale deeply to try and sober up with fresh air, but instead, breathe in the scent of cigarette smoke.

You have no time to relax when Yoongi’s low voice cuts through the quiet night air.

“Oh, sick, you’re here. I need to take Cher home, so make sure Y/N gets home,” Yoongi tells someone.

“Why me? Get one of the guys to take her.”

You open your eyes, and there on the porch is Jungkook, smoking a cigarette. The smoke curls up into the air as he holds it near his face, halting his movements at Yoongi’s order.

“Jimin and Tae are even more wasted than these two, believe it or not,” he refers to his girlfriend and you, “So Seokjin has his hands full with them. And I have no idea where Hoseok and Namjoon are.”

“Throw up,” you mumble.

Jungkook and Yoongi both quickly look at you with startled expressions.

“Hobi went to throw up. Joonbug is with him,” you drawl, clarifying.

“There you go, that’s why you,” Yoongi claps Jungkook on the shoulder.

“If anything happens to her, I’ll rip one of those piercings out of your face, Jeon,” Cherry rounds Yoongi and stands chest to chest with Jungkook poking at his chest threateningly.

Cherry hugs you goodbye, and the couple are off before Jungkook can make any more protests.

Just like that, you are left alone with the guy you have been enthralled with since you met him. The thumping bass and the joyful murmurs are the only sounds between you and Jungkook as you both stand there in painful silence.

You keep your gaze locked on the street, trying to focus on anything but the suffocating presence beside you.

Jungkook leans against the railing like he has nothing better to do, smoking the remainder of his cigarette, his gaze fixed in the distance on the night sky. You sigh, side-eyeing him as you shift, restless with your arms crossed. You try to remain calm, but inside, you are as excited as ever, pondering how to use this chance to your advantage.

He doesn’t attempt small talk or any other interaction, so you leave him immersed in his thoughts.

What makes this situation a little more nerve-wracking is that you know you are not really in his good books. Yet, you can’t miss out on this moment with him because being alone like this won’t happen again so smoothly. He dismisses you whenever he gets the chance or keeps his engagement short and curt when he does pay you attention.

A beat of silence later, you ask cautiously, “Did you have fun?”

“I did,” for the first time in minutes, he looks at you. “Until I got stuck chaperoning,” he snarks.

“There isn’t always gonna be someone around to babysit you and come to your defence.”

His sharp response had felt like a slap. Your drunken pride steps in, “You don’t have to. I can take care of myself,” you meekly contest.

Jungkook doesn’t answer this time.

Instead, he merely shifts his gaze from you to the empty, streetlight-lit road ahead before he begins to move. He drops the butt of his cigarette, putting it out with the toe of his boot, then stomps down the steps as he takes out his phone from his back pocket.

You follow immediately, walking by his side until he says, “I’m ordering an Uber.”

Your chest tightens, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

It all flashes before you in a millisecond.

Tires screeching. Glass shattering. Metal crunching. Blood. Pain. Fear.

“No!” you react instinctively and grab his arm, stopping him.

When you meet his eyes, Jungkook eyebrows furrow. Surprised and annoyed, he sends you an intense, fiery glare.

“I can’t take an Uber,” you shake your head frantically.

“Do you expect me to fly us there?” he huffs, pulling his arm out of your hold.

Your mouth opens and closes, but your throat seals shut. What possible defence could you offer?

Your nails carved crescents into your palms as you clenched your fists, your eyes tightly shut, “I-I just can’t ride in an Uber,” you force out quietly, ashamed; your voice is barely audible. A single tear slips down your cheek before you hurriedly wipe it away

Jungkook hears your voice crack and your sniffle. His scowl falters for a split second as he takes in your appearance—your teary eyes, chest rising and falling far too quickly, hands trembling at your sides. You are practically hyperventilating.

“Jesus…” he wavers, staring at your face, scratching the back of his neck, his eyes flicking around awkwardly, “You don’t have to cry about it.”

He shifts uncomfortably; abruptly, he walks away, his back now to you. You are left standing there like an abandoned kitten. He calls over his shoulder without even looking at you,

“You gonna stand there and sulk all night? Are you coming or not?”

His voice is cold and detached—as if he’s doing this out of obligation rather than concern.

Your eyes narrow, and your lips press into a thin line.

“Not,” you frown.

Jungkook freezes, leans his head back, looks up at the stars and groans, dragging his hands down his face in frustration. He lets out a slow breath before turning to you to speak again,

“What?”

You shake your head, cross your arms in protest, and pout, “I don’t want to go with you if you’re going to be a grumpy pants.”

He looks genuinely perplexed. As if you have just spoken in tongues.

“Grumpy pan—Are you a child?“

You remain silent, fixed in your spot. Feet planted on the sidewalk, arms crossed, as you and Jungkook engage in a staring contest.

Jungkook rolls his tongue along the inside of his cheek, cocks his pierced eyebrow. He squints his eyes at you, slipping his hands into his front pockets, “And how exactly do you plan on getting home then?“

“By myself,“ your chin lifts defiantly.

“By walking there. The same route I have to walk. Because we’re neighbours,” he deadpans.

Oh. Right. Damn, you didn’t think that through. You try to conjure up your next comeback to counter.

“Do you always have to be this difficult?” he exasperates.

“Hmph!” you stomp your foot, turning away from him to face the road.

Jungkook, for a brief moment, can’t tell if he wants to laugh or cry.

“For fuck’s sake,” Jungkook mutters his curse to himself between gritted teeth, exhaling a long aggravated breath before returning to your side.

“Alright.”

You ignore him.

Jungkook places a hand on your upper arm, using it to have you face him. The warmth of his touch vanishes just as quickly as it came.

“Look, let’s just walk home. I won’t say anything,” Jungkook holds his hands up in surrender.

You peek at him through your lashes, “You won’t be a meany? You’ll be nice?”

“I won’t be mean,” Jungkook replies, disregarding the second part of what you said.

“And…” You bite your lip, trying not to smile. Your eyes are innocent, but your tone is playful when you tiptoe, lean in a little, hesitantly, and say, “We can stop to buy a lollipop on the way?”

Jungkook, holding onto his last bit of strength, doesn’t say anything. He breathes through his nose, pressing his lips together and responding with a stiff nod.  

Like a flip of a switch, your mood brightens so fast that Jungkook flinches slightly.

“Yay! Okay, let’s go,” you cheer and brush past him.

Jungkook is stunned as he watches you head off, swaying your hips.

“Come on, Jungkookie!” you yell back to him.

Jungkook rolls his eyes.

That damn name.

Jungkook walks after you, wanting to hurry and get you home as fast as possible so he can get away from you just as fast.

He is left thinking about how he has a feeling that wasn’t his last hurdle of the night.

☾☀︎

Jungkook, true to his word, is on his best behaviour. But that is because he doesn’t utter a word on the walk to the convenience store. Even when your heel snags on the sidewalk and you lose footing, he catches you by the elbow with a displeased grunt and proceeds on.

“Are you seriously going to stay silent the whole way?” you wonder.

Silence.

Your shoulders brush his as you walk, your steps in sync with his, although yours are more clumsy.

“I know you said you won’t say anything, but it feels like I’m walking with a ghost,” you mope.

Silence.

You gasp, covering your mouth with both hands, “Maybe you are a ghost,” you raise a hand to poke at his bicep.

Is he made out of stone or something? His arm is rock solid, like a statue. Having the perfect view of Jungkook’s profile, he does look like an ancient Greek sculpture, with chiselled features and sharp, distinct edges that Adonis would envy. With the moonlight breaking through his hair, you marvel at his beauty.

Jungkook tuts and throws you a disapproving glare.

“Didn’t you want me not to be mean?“ he gruffs.

You gasp again dramatically, “Oh my gosh! I can’t believe it, he speaks,” you joke.

The thought flashes through Jungkook’s mind. With your wide, happy smile, your hands cupping your cheeks. How you look up at him with big eyes, sparkling under the glow of the night—it’s almost… cute.

He shakes his head, this time not at you but to force the thought out of his mind before it accidentally spirals into something worse.

“We agreed on just walking home—”

“And to stop and get a lolly,” you add, correcting him.

“Yeah. Whatever. My point is I didn’t agree on any conversation.”

“But it’s boring walking in silence. Plus, you said you’d be nice,” you whine.

“I said I wouldn’t be mean.”

“Well, isn’t ignoring me pretty mean?”

But he won’t answer. He only makes a disapproving sound.

“I’m so nice to you. I don’t know why you ignore me all the time. I wish you liked me as much as I like you. Jess also doesn’t like me, so you aren’t the only one. What she said wasn’t true, by the way,” you turn to face him while walking, “I know what I heard. I would never lie to you, Jungkookie. Joonbug said you wouldn’t believe her, but I still wanted to tell you myself,” you ramble on, filling the silence.

“Jeez. How drunk are you?”

“Only a little,” you singsong, pinching your index finger and thumb together, leaving a tiny gap in between.

“But I got you to talk to me,” you smile, bumping your shoulder into his arm.

He stares at you and tilts his head slightly, studying you. Then, he lets out this half-laugh, half-disbelieving breath.

You don’t look away. Jungkook’s warm stare seeps into your skin, grounding you in a way that feels too easy.

The pure gaze you give him throws Jungkook off guard for a moment — it’s somewhat endearing.

Jungkook’s stomach lurches. He snaps his head forward and coughs awkwardly into his fist.

Woah. Stop. What is with him tonight? How drunk is he?

You give in to Jungkook’s silence this time, sighing and letting him sink into his thoughts.

The convenience store’s sign comes into view, flashing in the short distance.

“Jess’s words hold no merit to me. Whether what she says is true or not doesn’t matter. I don’t care. Because I don’t care about her,” Jungkook’s tone is flat, emotionless, as if he’s simply stating a fact.

The convenience store’s sign comes into view, glowing in the near distance.

“The same goes for you,” Jungkook says casually before turning to enter the shop, his response so abrupt that it catches you off guard.

↬ THE CHAPTER ISN'T OVER YET!! PLS READ boo 1k block limit!! you can read the second half of the chapter in this reblog!! it continues where this leaves off and begins with a new scene <3

[jjungkkook]

cr. namuspromised

[hellokittykookies]

Someone to keep (love) - J.JK - M.LIST

pairings : J.JK x FEM! READER

genre : fwbau, strangers2lovers, smut, angst, fluff, stripper/sexworker au.

warnings : explicit sex, red room (fifty shades of grey), sex worker! reader, rich! jk, unprotected sex, miscarriage,

sypnosis : Being a sex worker, broke, with a family that despises you is already unfortunate enough, until the universe starts messing with you and sends a nepo baby with a powerful, influential family your way and it just so happens he's always your client everytime. What happens when feelings start to get involved?

"For worse or for better Gonna give it to you In capital letters" - BloodPop and Hailee Steinfeld

DISCLAIMER! : Anything in this story is not true! i am not romanticizing any topics in this story. the characters in this story is not related to the real life version of the idol. i do not know much about the sex working industry but i tried to make research for this fic so please don't hate! just correct me nicely instead, i take critics and feedback as long as it is not a hateful one. please mind this fic was written last year so i am just polishing it now as the original version was much more worse since this fic includes sensitive topics as miscarriage, family abuse, abuse, exploitation, and sa. i do not romanticize any of these topic please. thank you for looking forward to reading this fic!

note : the wordcount was wayy over 40k and tumblr wouldn't let me make it a one shot so i'll turn it into a series instead.

1 ᯓ★ Can my heart be quiet?

2 ᯓ★ Baby you got me like

3 ᯓ★I know your motives and you know mine

4 ᯓ★ money, power, glory

5 ᯓ★ for worse or for better

6 ᯓ★ im gonna give it to you

7 ᯓ★ in capital letters