#Jungkook x m!reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jungkakes · 7 months ago

Text

Make Me Water | JiKook x Reader

pairings: jikook x fem!reader, smut, fluff, established relationship with jk and reader.

warnings: threesome-f/m/m, oral, double penetration, fingering, anal, creampies (by bofum lol), squirting, unprotected sex, dirty talk, implied consensual rough sex, cuck jk, just pure smut really, jungkook calls reader 'mama', aftercare, sweet talk.

words: 19,827

summary: It's a hot, sticky summer in Seoul. Heat warnings are in effect. But when the night falls and breeze begins to blow, what better way to cool off than have some fun poolside with your man and his bestfriend?

also cross-posted on ao3

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. 　

Stepping out onto the terrace, you slid the door that led out to the private pool closed behind you with a quiet shut, “Hurry and join us, baby.” You hummed, turning back to give your partner a final smile from over your shoulder right before you closed the door.

Once outside, the warm breeze from the summer night’s air fanned over your skin. The gentle sounds of flowing water filled the open air. Soft, steady waves from a stream echoed through the space you had been standing in. Splish, splish, splish. It was calming. Relaxing. You could use it as a form of asmr even.

It had been scorching hot outside today. The temperatures steadily crept to an alarming 90 degrees Fahrenheit by midday. Calling for a heat warning and advising all citizens to stay indoors to try and keep cool in any way they could. And stay cool, you did. Lounging for most of the day near the air conditioner in the living room. A novel in hand and your body curled up comfortably on the single couch. Eyes crossing every now and then to watch your man and his best friend keeping themselves entertained with video games for most of the day.

Now, it was well into the night. Safe for you to step outside for some much needed fresh air. The sun had long cleared the sky. Bidding your time zone a good evening with rays of light so beautiful with glimmers of orange and yellow sunlight shining across the horizon and then saying goodnight when the dark hues of blue and green from night befalling faded into a pitch black night sky. Stars speckled the once blue sky now. The moon shining at its highest. The gentle noise of crickets and the buzzing of cicadas alike sounded through the air. All a telltale sign that summer was at its peak.

The air was still sticky and warm but the breeze that blew every now and then made the difference. The trees and bushes in the distance ruffled when the wind blew. Large leaves on the trees above your head fanning you almost. The cool night’s wind blew a kiss against your face. Into your hair. Gently caressing your skin as a silent hello from the earth. Telling you that the sun was gone for now and it was finally okay for you to step outside for the first time of the day and inhale the night’s air.

From your side, you could hear the gentle lull of a waterfall from a fountain that led to the terrace pool. That’s the direction you were heading in. Taking a step onto the cobblestone concrete, you noticed that even the interlocking patterns of brick were still warm from the heat today. It was a nice contrast. The warm concrete on your bare feet and the breeze blowing through the oversized t-shirt you wore made you remember how much you loved the summertime.

Tonight was the perfect night.

You couldn’t have asked for anything better than this.

“The water isn’t getting any less wet, beautiful. Come on in.”

Or could you?

“How’s the water?” You asked your friend who was already wading in the pool, your hands in front of the hems of your t-shirt, “Not too cold, right?” You hummed, turning around so that your back was facing your friend as you easily pulled the material of your shirt upwards to tug it off from over your head, tossing it over onto a chair as you shook your hair out, letting the locks fall over your shoulders and down your back in a mermaid-like style,

“It’s perfect.” He responded and you could feel the smile in his voice, “Just the right temp.” He mused and you turned around to face him. Eyes falling onto the creamy skin illuminated by the soft lights fluoresced around the pool. He glowed almost. Sparkled. Park Jimin was absolutely gorgeous.

Suddenly, your hands flew to your chest because yes… you were half naked.

Standing there with your hands covering your bare chest, you hardly heard your friend calling for you. The soft octave of his voice slowing and dulling to a reverb that you couldn’t hear while you lost yourself staring at the way his skin radiated.

“Did you hear me, hun?” You heard him better now as his voice began to cut through the ringing in your ears and you looked out towards him, knees trembling with a new found nervousness as you watched your friend floating around the pool with a seeming carefreeness while he awaited you to join him in the water.

“What was that?” You asked, “I zoned out.” You mumbled more to yourself than him.

“I’m feeling quite lonely the longer I float here by myself. The water might just turn cold from my unending loneliness.” Jimin’s voice drooped sadly from the other side of the pool, his body bounced lightly within the water he floated in. His dancer-like form swaying around freely in the water as if he were a real life mermaid.

“I’m good over here.” You swallowed hard, your teeth gnawing on the inner part of your cheek. No, you weren’t good. You were salivating at the thought of joining Jimin in the water but the side of you that had a smidge of shame left said otherwise. Making you unable to move from the spot you were standing in. Jimin made you nervous to be shirtless in front of him. Nervous of him perceiving you. Nervous to be doing this with him.

A big part of you wanted to dive head first into the pool he was waiting for you in. You wish you could go back to the person you were a mere five seconds ago. The person that was giddy with excitement to do this.

That shameless part of you wanted to shake off any anxiety you had bubbling in you and just jump. But the more you stood there… The more you watched this man that was practically ethereal wading around in the water as if he was a deadly siren waiting to lure you in with the sweet melody of his voice, the more you hesitated. You turned back to look at the door where your partner was still busy in the kitchen and you sighed quietly to yourself. Silently pleading for your muse to hurry and come outside to join you.

Jimin let out a noise of displease from your stalling and sank backwards for a moment into the water, head tilted backwards to wet the shaggy black hair on his head. You watched the bob of his Adam's apple move up and down when he swallowed. Eyes studying the strength of his jaw that you could see perfectly from the way he tilted his head back. He knew what he was doing without even acknowledging it. Just like the siren he was. You shifted on your feet as you practically watched him seduce you into the water,

“Hm.” He huffed before he lifted his head out of the water and shook his soaked hair out. The silver highlights he sported in his hair flung to and from. Water from his hair sprayed around his form and trickled from his neck length hair to his throat, chest and finally disappeared into the water rising steadily, “Please?” He whined, a sad pout forming along his rosy, plump lips while he watched you.

You stood there with your arms crossing tighter over your chest. Wispy hair flying from the way your head shook with hesitation, “Are you sure you didn’t pee in the water and that’s why it’s so warm?” You teased, the sarcasm prevalent in your voice because did fairies like Jimin even pee? Probably. “Let’s see.” You hummed, taking a step closer to the edge of the pool, stretching your foot out and dipping the tip of your toe into it, “Yah, it’s cold! You lied!” You whined, body recoiling from the water temperature, “I’ll just watch you swim around from here in case you don’t drown.” You nodded with a smile, quick to turn on your heels to retreat back towards the safety and comfort of the chairs lining the swimming pool.

You never had any intention to be in the pool but it was a hot summer night and the water looked inviting to say the least. How you managed to get Jimin to agree to this was beyond you. It wasn’t as if this part of the house hadn’t already been explored by you and your inquisitiveness. For example, you might have enjoyed a few swims or two in the early mornings during your visit here when the member’s slept in because the night prior’s crazy antics (video gaming and karaoke sessions) had gone well into the early wee hours of the morning and they were far too tired to join you.

And what was this place exactly? This was a vacation home for you all. A place where you had frequented to spend special moments together. Away from the public. Away from the hustle and bustle of city life. Away from… everything. The Soop House was a place you cherished being in. A place everyone considered as their little getaway.

The first time being here was in the wintertime years ago. Taehyung’s birthday. What a memorable night it was. A special night that you would hold close to your heart until the end of time.

You’ve visited this house many times after that. Sometimes with the members to celebrate birthdays and other festivities. Sometimes with your partner when the two of you just needed some time away from life’s busy schedules. Or with your girlfriends for a little weekend girl’s trip getaway.. And sometimes alone when you just wanted to get away to enjoy the beauty of experiencing the Soop all by yourself.

This was a special place.

And it wasn’t special because it was nestled away in an isolated forest that was guarded at all times by private security.

It was special because it was only for BTS and you.

You didn’t think your zany idea of skinny dipping in a pool at midnight would be taken so eagerly by your friend. It was simply a thought you blurted out during dinner. Something that came to your mind under the influence of a few glasses of wine and how good Jimin looked while being as relaxed as he was today.

Perhaps it was the enthusiasm that had you thinking second thoughts. I mean. you were down for taking a dip into the pool with your friend while your man watched from afar. That was until you realized Jimin and your man were both equally into the idea of doing it. Of course they were! To think that they would be against such an inviting idea was silly of you. You must have forgotten who you were dealing with tonight. This was Park Jimin and Jeon Jeongguk for crying out loud.

You truly thought Jimin would at least politely decline out of respect for you (and the fact that you were in a relationship with his best friend) but oh no, honey. Did you truly believe that? Did you actually think Jimin could and would ever say no to you? Clearly you did not expect anything from Jimin until you caught onto him inching his way to the doors of the house that led to the private pool once he had finished helping your man clean up after dinner.

Even Jungkook’s own eyebrow raised in question when he noticed his hyung had barely hung around to chat and instead, booked it straight to the pool after dinner. Claiming he wanted to enjoy the last night in the Soop House’s pool before he had to jet off to Japan the next day. Pfft. Yeah, right. You played along though and so did your man. Nodding with enthusiasm as he told you to run along and join Jimin while he prepared the three of you something delicious to drink.

You clearly were not quick enough to realize Jimin had been waiting for your offer for a very… long time. And you clearly were not quick enough for Jimin now who had swiftly made his way from one side of the pool to the spot where you stood, his wet hand reaching out from the water and grabbing you by the ankle just as you were about to turn away,

Barely having a chance to register what was happening, you only had enough time to let out a shriek as you felt yourself get pulled to the water. Thankfully, your body fell backwards into the pool rather than forward. Otherwise, falling face first into the pool’s ledge only to be pulled in by the hungry water monster named Jimin would have been extremely painful and… embarrassing on your part.

With arms flailing in the air, you fell pathetically into the pool. Body crashing into the water and almost body checking Jimin’s wet form with your shoulders like a superstar football linebacker as he dragged you into his arms. You were never an elegant faller and could even compare your clumsiness on a Namjoon level. Surely, you would have seen this coming.

Jimin spared you no time to react or at least prepare yourself to be pulled into the water. Turning your back away from him was your first mistake, “JIMIN!” You yelled, body thrashing around in the water as you tried to find your footing against the floor of the pool, “My hair!” You yelped, feeling the back of your head get splashed with water and soak the hair you had freshly straightened just a few hours prior to this night, “I’m gonna kill you, I swear.” You threatened, finally being able to find your balance now that you were no longer floating on your back in the water,

“Had to get you in somehow.” Jimin only responded between his airy chuckles, “I’m sorry. I had to.” He didn’t sound apologetic in the slightest and your eyes narrowed in annoyance,

“Seriously. I’ll choke you out.” You twisted around in Jimin’s hold at once and glared at him, wet hands coming up to clasp around Jimin’s neck, not fully choking him (although you wanted to). “You’re gonna die, Park Jimin.” You announced with confidence, giving his neck within your hands a playful squeeze,

“Do it.” He challenged, “Maybe I like that.” Jimin flashed you his signature toothy smile and you felt the goosebumps raise on your skin from his shamelessness.

“Gross.” You muttered, hands dropping from his throat in defeat.

One thing about Jimin was that he hardly ever felt embarrassment around you or any of his fellow members. He was comfortable and confident around you all. Often blurting out random things that he would never on this green earth utter in public.

“What? You don’t like being choked?” He questioned with a menacing grin and suddenly you felt his firm palm that was resting against your hip to ensure your fall into the water wouldn’t be too catastrophic. He was so close to you right now. Too close. So close that you could smell the lingering scent of his cologne still on his skin mixed with the chlorine from the water. So close that the hand placed on your hip felt heavy and strong against your skin. His touch felt searing. As if he could expel fire from his very palms.

Feeling exposed under his overwhelming gaze, you quickly realized you were standing there in nothing but your bikini underwear. Knowing you were tits out in the water like nobody’s business made your hands fly once more to your chest to cover yourself as if Jimin hadn’t already snuck a glance. “Stop staring at me.” You spoke with a crack in your voice and felt the burn in your cheeks flow from your face straight down to between your thighs, “You’re making me nervous.” You confessed with a glum whisper, lips pressing together tight in regret as soon as you spoke. You sounded so stupid.

Jimin’s gaze softened immediately when you spoke and the playful gleam in his eyes he had all this time prior to this moment had long disappeared, “Hey, pretty… if you’re not– If you changed your mind. We don’t–” He started, hands moving up and away from anywhere close to your body to give you space, “I can go grab you a shirt.” His eyes scanned over your head towards the poolside to see if the shirt he had stripped off was still hanging off the chair he had tossed it onto, “Just wait here–” He had already began to back away to cross to the other side of the pool and you shook your head quickly,

“No.. don’t do that. It’s just–” You gulped then took a deep breath, finally allowing your gaze to meet Jimin’s eyes,

Jimin’s lips pursed lightly before he titled his head to the side in confusion, “What is it?” He asked, “Are you feeling okay?” The worry in his voice was clear and now he had begun to think you were starting to get sick,

“No… It’s just you’re so.. you.” You mumbled, “This is like, fuck, I don’t know.. the second time in the history of our friendship that you made me feel nervous.” You let out a quiet laugh, head hanging in embarrassment, “You’re just so… fucking hot.” You finally said the words you had been chanting in your head the entire time you had been standing along the poolside watching Jimin’s effortless attempts at luring you into the pool, “I can’t believe this is happening.” You started to laugh more as you realized how silly you sounded,

Perhaps you were imagining things. The close proximity you both were now in surely made your mind hazy. So hazy that you hallucinated the fiery chemistry of his body close to yours. You didn’t even notice he had his hand placed on your hip before not because he was a creep but to make sure you didn’t sink too much into the water when he had pulled you in. And although he was no longer touching you, you somehow still felt the tingling on your skin where his hands were once placed.

Jimin let out a small chuckle, his eyes crinkling into pretty little half moons when they closed, “Oh, love.” He took a breath between laughs and shook his head, “You’re flattering me too much.” He rolled his eyes and let his body float closer to you, “I’ve never seen you like this.” Jimin hummed out with please, “It’s pretty cute.” He nodded, leaning in close to your ear, “But you have to understand, the only person here who’s…” His voice dropped to a hushed mumble, “....fucking hot is you.” His voice sounded almost too seductive for your comprehension and suddenly the water felt boiling hot, “That’s just my humble opinion but I assure you, anyone would agree with me.” Jimin smiled confidently at you. A sparkly grin that made your knees buckle under you at once,

You wobbled and lost balance from his words. Wanting to kick yourself for how easy it was for you to fold for sweet talk. Actually, scratch that. You hardly ever reacted to anyone flirting with you unless it was your man. But something in the way Jimin spoke. With that lowered Busan accent. That surety. The confidence. The way he spoke with such honesty. He meant what he said and Jimin never crossed you as a liar.

No wonder your legs feel like jelly. And suddenly you felt your foot slip from under your body. You were shorter than Jimin and the water was already up to your shoulders. Your feet were already barely touching the bottom of the pool. He didn’t want you to lose your footing again and slip under. Not like you would drown or anything but getting water in your nose and down your throat wasn’t the greatest experience on earth, was it. So, he grabbed you when you struggled to balance. Hands circling around your waist with one resting along the small of your back and the other against your hip in the same spot it once stayed.

“Careful.” He mused and you nodded dumbly. Your mind and body already feeling weak from his presence alone.

“Right.” Was all you said when he caught you again and made sure you didn’t gulp down a mouthful of pool water when you slipped, “Thank you.” You muttered like a goof, still at a loss for words. Your mind was racing at a million miles per hour. Heart thumping wildly in your chest as you attempted to process what he just said to you. Your vocabulary had dwindled to just a handful of words at the moment but that was good enough for Jimin. He never seemed to mind silence.

With Jimin’s soft gaze on your face and the silence falling comfortably between the two of you, he took his chance to admire your face. He took in the glitter on your eyelids from your makeup. The soft curve of your lips accompanied by the pink gloss you wore. The light blush staining your cheeks. So, so, so cute. This shy persona of yours was growing on Jimin and he couldn’t help but smile giddily from it. “Don’t say thank you. Just believe me.” He nodded, leaning in to press a gentle kiss against your forehead. Much like he always did to you whenever he could.

Embracing the soft touch of Jimin’s lips on your forehead, you nodded a silent acknowledgment towards him. Your hands were still covering your chest and now your palms felt foreign. As if they were never meant to be there. Taking a careful breath, you slowly dropped your hands from over your chest as you looked at Jimin. He tried not to immediately lower his stare to your chest but failed and took a glance.

Now, yes, Jimin was a flirt. It was universally known that he had a little bit of a promiscuous side. However, a gentleman is what he stayed no matter what. However, in this moment? When the most obscene thoughts began to swarm his mind? He had to keep his words to himself because you were absolutely perfect. That’s all he could think. Damn perfect. The voice in his head corrected him.

His lowered gaze made you feel isolated under his stare but it wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling in the slightest. If anything, your nervousness now had seemed to begin to disappear thanks to his reassurance, “You’re so gorgeous.” He breathed out coolly, “Really.” He nodded quickly, lips spreading into a smile, “Jungkook, you lucky motherfucker.” He grumbled which made you let out a giggle,

“Shut up.” You gave his shin a jab with your foot from under the water, “He knows how lucky he is. Trust me.” You hummed, “I make sure he knows. Everyday.” You smiled confidently at Jimin, feeling more comfortable now.

“So,” Jimin began to smile wider in response. His playful side back as if it never left, “You didn’t answer my question.” He reminded you with a nudge, “You like being choked out?” He asked again and you grunted,

“Freak.” You muttered under your breath and thought about actually strangling him for real this time. But instead, you found yourself immediately lost under his gaze. He swallowed you whole with his stare. Pretty brown eyes illuminated by the night sky’s reflection against the water making him look absolutely unreal, “I’ll tell you what…” You began, hands moving from within the water to place onto your friend’s bare shoulders to make him focus on just you, “Why don’t you try to find out?” You asked with a challenge in your voice, “I’ll allow it.” You mused nonchalantly as if you were both sharing a casual conversation,

Jimin felt his breath get stuck in his throat and now it was his turn to be shy. Your hands holding onto his shoulders now felt like bricks weighing down on his back. Your nails pushing lightly into the trap muscles along his skin felt as if they would leave etches in his skin tomorrow and you were barely touching him. The attraction between the two of you might just be stronger than you and Taehyung. Now Jimin understood why he was never asked to join you and Jungkook the first time. Now he understood why Taehyung was the one lucky enough to have you with Jungkook that night. The energy you and Jimin shared could light up thousands of city nights, really. It was so sexy. He could hardly handle it,

“I’ll tell you what…” Jimin leaned in towards you, his lips now brushing against yours when he spoke, “I’ll definitely find out.” He grinned, hands that were set on your lower back and hip now circling confidently around your waist to tug you firm against his chest.

He was stronger than you thought. Don’t let his dainty, fairylike body fool you. He was lean and sturdy in all the right places. You curved into his hold almost too perfectly. Fitting snug against his chest. Wet bodies pressed together and all.

Heaving a deep breath, your eyes fluttered the closer Jimin got to you. Your gaze was stuck on the smooth of his chest. Droplets of water dotted along his skin. Steam from the warmth of his body hitting against the cool evening air dissipated into the darkness surrounding the two of you. The limelight cascaded against his features and made him look like he was molded by the Greek Gods. From the milk of his skin tone creating a perfect surface for the black ink from the tattoo across his ribcage to show even through the water. All the way to the faint pink appearing along his neck from soaking in the pool for as long as he did. Jimin was absolutely ethereal.

You truly couldn’t help yourself but to stare at him. Moving your gaze from his near flawless skin, your eyes trailed upwards from his collarbones to those lips of his. If you had to describe the beauty of Jimin’s lips it would be with 3 words. The 3 Ps. Pink, plump and perfect.

And when he leaned into you like this? When he closed any space that happened to be separating the both of your bodies and circled his arms around your waist like this? Careful fingers boldly running over the material of your underwear to run faintly over your ass? The minty air from his breath fanning across your face when he inched even closer? Yeah, there was no way you could focus on anything but him.

See, there had always been chemistry between you and Jimin. He was one of the first members of BTS aside from Jungkook that you grew a fondness for and the easiest for you to warm up to. He was funny. Flirtatious. Pretty. And charismatic. He knew the right words to say. Knew the things you liked without you having to tell him. Knew exactly where to massage the spot on your shoulder that always ached without you needing to show him. Knew just what to say to make you flustered and overwhelmed. Jimin just… knew. It was as though he had been living in a corner of your head. As though he knew you for ages. You trusted him. Trusted your friendship. He was worth more than just words to you and the feelings only solidified when he finally closed any left space between the two of you and kissed you.

Feeling his lips press against yours was something you didn’t think you would feel again. You recalled the first time you ever shared a kiss with him. In the dimly lit space of the club you were in with the rest of BTS. Sweaty bodies pressed together while you danced. Music blaring through speakers. Alcohol in your systems making your mind’s cloudy and hazy with lust. Jungkook and you hadn’t been dating for long then but it was long enough for you to willingly kiss his friends when the drunken stupor you were all in got to your head's. It was a long time ago. A time you had moved far along from. But when you felt Jimin’s lips press against yours again. So soft, smooth and full of want just like the first time… all of the memories came swimming back.

“Mm.” You hummed against his lips and inched closer, hands moving to cup his face. Your fingers caressing under his chiseled jaw to bring him into you. The touch of your fingertips resting against his delicate skin made Jimin shiver and the kiss progressed further with you quickly leaning forward to find his lips against your own again. You kissed him eagerly thanks to his positive reaction and Jimin didn’t hesitate to return the passion. He wanted this. Waited for this. It wasn’t like he fantasized everyday about his homie’s girl. He was a busy man and had plenty of attention to fill his needs.

However, there were times where you crossed his mind. Times where he found himself daydreaming about what could have been if it were him and Jungkook with you that night at the Soop house those years ago as opposed to Taehyung. What would have the outcome been if he was the one to share you with Jungkook? Probably nothing would have happened if he had to be honest. Jungkook was yours to the death and that was made very clear.. very early in your relationship.

Still, the pang of jealousy harbored in the deepest pit of Jimin’s heart and although, he would have been fine to live the rest of his days pleased with the way things were now, he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to join the two of you. This time, at your own request.

Let’s get one thing straight though, you and Jungkook weren’t exactly in an open relationship. At least it wasn’t open to everyone like a free for all. And it was clear that Jungkook didn’t want to fuck anyone else but you either. It was complicated to explain to people that weren’t you and Jungkook. Besides, you didn’t owe anyone an explanation. You both just had your… likes. And that included Jungkook simply having a thing for watching you with his band members. And you simply… wanted everything he wanted. You wanted to ride for him. To die for him.

Call it crazy but, Jungkook was everything to you. He made you want to do things you’ve never done before. Made you want things you never wanted before. Your decision to partake in these escapades were yours and yours alone. He never pressured you into anything you never wanted to do. Never forced you to do anything you didn’t agree with. Wanting to act out each and every fantasy your man had was your choice. And your choice was the exact reason that he was your man, your man, your man. And everything about your man turned you on.

Your relationship was yours and no one would ever understand it but that was the beauty of your love. No one had to get it. They were either with it or against it and that’s all that mattered.

“Jungkook’s taking pretty long with those drinks, huh?” Jimin commented between kisses, “Almost as if he’s doing it on purpose.” He hummed low, “Almost as if he knew how much I’ve been waiting to kiss you again.” Jimin snorted quietly, a hand moving to your back, fingers trailing down your spine and making you shiver,

“Then stop talking and kiss me.” You whispered against his lips and Jimin said less. A wet hand reaching up to cup under your jaw and bring you into him again so that your lips could meet once more. He started off by giving your lips a gentle peck. Felt the gloss from your lips transfer onto his own and then realized he had been missing this more than he thought.

No more words needed to be said and soon, the soft noises of your lips moving together in sync filled the silence. Lips blending against one another with ease and fluidity. Your arms looped over his shoulders, fingers from one hand tangling into the back of his shaggy hair, Combing through the layers then burying into the thick locks. Letting the black and silver strands curl around each of your fingers. While your nails on the other hand moved to glide down his chest, feeling over the toned muscles lining his pecs and then inching downwards to his abs all while your lips melted against each other.

The hand he had resting under your jaw had soon moved to clasp around your throat. Delicate fingers giving your neck the gentlest squeeze every now and then that you almost never noticed what he had been doing until you began to feel the pressure after each kiss. “That feels so good.” You confessed and Jimin smiled triumphantly into the kiss,

“Told you I’ll find out.” He mused with confidence, making your face flush hues of pink at how easy he did uncover your secret enjoyment.

You hadn’t realized Jimin was backing you into the wall of the pool until you felt your back pressed into the solid surface. You simply floated there under the spell that was Park Jimin. His persistent kisses started to deepen and then his tongue was pushing into your mouth to taste you, “So perfect.” He whispered into your mouth, a hand roaming upwards along your hip to your torso while your tongues touched again and then once more before he broke the kiss to look into your eyes, “Can I touch you?” He asked, the hand that was wrapped around your neck removing and dropping to float over the stream of water surrounding the two of you,

“Of course.” You breathed, nodding encouragingly, “Please.” You spoke more confidently now that you had caught your breath, “I want you to.” You confirmed, reaching down into the water and taking Jimin’s hands within yours, guiding his palms to your chest. You placed his hands over your breasts. Making him cup them while you watched the way his palms barely covered the plushness. He had dainty little hands but if you had to be honest, you wouldn’t mind feeling them massaging over your breasts… or wrapped around your throat again. “Just like that.” You sighed out in relief, your gaze dulling the moment Jimin replaced your hands with his own. Warm palms carefully squeezing over your breasts to feel you,

“Damn.” He muttered. Soft hands squeezing and massaging over your flesh, making your head spin and cloud with desire. Jimin was going to be honest and say he snuck a glance or two of your boobs a few times whenever you were around him. He couldn’t help it. His eyes just happened to gravitate to them. If you were asking Jimin what he thought about them well… was the word perfect overused already? Because that’s what they were. But hey, in Jimin’s eyes…. All boobs were perfect. he never discriminated. It’s just that never in this lifetime did Jimin think he would be touching yours now.

“Fuck.” You breathed, head tilting back to expose your throat as Jimin leaned in and pressed his lips against your neck. Kissing and mouthing over your damp skin while licking away the droplets of water that collected along your neck. After attending to your throat, he leaned up and gently nibbled over your jawline. Teeth nipping your tingling skin before pressing a kiss to your jugular then finally dipping his head lower, plush lips decorating your collar bone and soon enough your chest with airy kisses,

“So soft.” He complimented your skin, his voice coming out closer to a moan than a sentence, “So sexy.” Your body physically responded to the sound of his voice. Back arching up into his hold. Wanting to hear more of him. He sounded so sexy with the sure need and lust laced in his words. Making him sound sultry and simply filthy with desire.

His breath coasted over the bud of your nipple when he spoke and you knew you were doomed at that. Feeling the sensitivity from just air blowing against your flesh had you depraved,

“Hah, fuck.” You swore, your head flopping back and resting against the wall of the pool, body sinking a bit into the water as you felt the plumpness of Jimin’s lips ghost over your nipple. You braced yourself against the wall, preparing yourself for the feel of his tongue on your burning skin. And then you felt it. Felt his warm lips close around your nipple. Felt his wet tongue flick over the skin. He sucked over the sensitive flesh. A freehand reaching up to cup over your other breast. Making sure both were being given as much attention as he could.

“Feels good, angel?” Jimin checked in with you as his lips removed themselves from your nipple, mouth trailing to the other nipple while his hands switched to your other breast, siren-like eyes silently seeking your approval.

You nodded, teeth gnawing over your lower lip as you met his gaze, watching the way his tongue trailed over your skin with the glimmer of hope in his eyes as he peeked up at you from where his face pressed between your breasts, hands reaching up to squish them against his face before he kissed along your sternum,

“Yes.” You barely managed to answer before you mewled with pleasure. Chest pressing up to meet Jimin’s mouth. Your body searching for more friction. More feeling. “Feels so good.” You encouraged him, “So fucking good...” You whispered, your leg slowly raising and hiking upwards, wrapping around Jimin’s waist and making him press into you while your hands found their way into his soaking wet hair, fingers smoothing through the strands and tugging firm at the locks.

He hummed in satisfaction when you pulled on his hair. Moaned against your skin when you praised him too. And when your thigh draped over his hip, he didn’t waste any time to press his pelvis against yours either. He lowered his clothed cock right up against where you ached the most. Fitting himself perfectly against your body. He rocked his hips slowly. Teasing. Dragging the movement out as if he was moving in slow motion. Letting you feel just how much he was enjoying and savoring every second of this moment.

“More.” You whispered, the heel of your foot pressed into Jimin’s lower back and you gasped quietly feeling the throbbing bulge within his swimming shorts pushing against you, “Jimin…” You whispered his name, hands gripping his forearms as he pressed you harder against the wall of the pool, hips rocking ever so slightly into you, making you feel every inch of him, “Oh… Shit.” You moaned, your head dropping forward to rest against Jimin’s shoulder, the muffle of your moans stifling as you buried your face into his skin. The feeling of his cock grinding into you sent a shockwave of pleasure up your spine. Making your skin erupt with goosebumps,

Hearing the frenzy of moans and whimpers he was putting you in was music to Jimin’s ears. Adding to the streak of cuteness you were exhibiting, Jimin had to note that even your moans were cute. Taehyung was lucky to have heard this? Jungkook was lucky to get a load of this… this perfection whenever he wanted? God, Jimin had been missing out. He might actually be jealous. “Fuck, I wanna be inside you so bad.” Jimin grumbled, head shaking as the pent up aggression threatened to make him explode,

“You have to wait for Koo.” You instructed him, fingers caressing over his upper arms, “He should be here soon.” You started to smile, your hands moving from his arms to his cheeks, cupping them and leaning in to press a light kiss against his lips, “Patience.” You whispered into the kiss and Jimin hummed low, eyes closing as he kissed you back,

“I’m not a very patient person.” Jimin whispered back, sighing into the kiss, “Tell him to stop creeping from the window and join us already.” He joked and you silenced him at last by kissing him deeper. Your hand pressing against the nape of his neck, and pulling him in closer to you by the hair that curled at his nape. The kiss soon turning more desperate. More passionate. Your lips and teeth hitting against each other the sloppier it grew.

Jimin was about to continue. Was about to grind his cock into you more just to hear the delicious noises you were making before but alas, the trois in your ménage à trois finally decided to join you both, “Here comes your dude. Right on time.” Jimin grumbled against your lips, pulling away when he heard the sliding door of the terrace open followed by the light patter of footsteps,

“He knows when it’s time.” You giggled at Jimin’s frustration, eyes peeking over towards the figure making his way down to the pool. You laid the back of your head against the wall of the pool again, sighing out softly as you watched the tall, hunky man you called yours meeting your gaze the second he felt your eyes on him.

Warm, intense brown eyes gobbled you up with his stare. Making your stomach flip over like a pancake. Stark black hair reaching his chin tousled from left to right as he walked. The bouncy locks looking extra yankable tonight as he had just washed his hair this morning. The more you watched Jungkook, the more you ogled his entire existence. With his shockingly tall height. Long limbs. Strong… So strong body. Tattoos against tanned skin. Two lip rings glittering under the night sky. Jawline locked tight. Showing off the perfect angle that it was. The dark, moody look resting on his face contrasting against soft, delicate facial features.

You knew your man had been staring out the window watching and waiting for the perfect moment to interrupt. No matter how much he would try to deny it, you knew him better than that. He was snarky like that. Not wanting to be missing out on the action but also not wanting Jimin to get a taste of most of the fun before it even began.

However, from the way he looked at you right now, you knew you had him worked up. He looked as though he was going to devour you. As if he was starved and dying for a drink of you. You knew he wasn’t going to just watch tonight. He was going to join right off the bat. The heat and fire that burned within his veins in the form of longing was too much for Jungkook to just sit and watch this time and you didn’t mind it one bit.

“Starting without me, I see.” Was all Jungkook said. Balancing the tray of drinks easily with one hand as he made his way over to the two of you. His eye contact with you finally breaking as he turned away to set the tray lined with three drinks onto a table close by.

“Don’t act like you weren’t watching the whole time.” Jimin sighed out as he pulled away from you, still lingering close by but no longer invading your personal space. You found his hand before he waded away, taking his hand within yours to keep him close to you, your fingers lacing together as you turned to face Jungkook,

“Just wanted to make sure you weren’t trying to steal my girl.” Jungkook smirked in Jimin’s direction as he plucked one of the drinks up off the tray and crossed over to the ledge of the pool to hang Jimin the cocktail he made, “You know I had to take my time and make these drinks. No, I wasn’t looking out the window.” He lied. Just like you knew he would. Of course, he might have snuck a peek once or twice. Just to make sure he wasn’t missing anything while he let you and Jimin get… acquainted with one another.

“Mmm.. stop being like that, baby. No one’s stealing me.” You smiled cheekily at Jungkook, catching his lips twitching into a smile when you spoke to him, “We were just having some fun.” You let go of Jimin’s hand and turned around to face Jungkook, staring up at him from the ledge of the pool as you propped your elbows up against it, “Why don’t you come join us?” You questioned him, eyeing the drinks on the tray as Jimin leaned against the pool’s ledge as well, his arm sliding around your waist as you moved to make way for Jungkook,

Watching Jungkook intently, you leaned into Jimin’s hold around your waist, cozying up to his friend and feeling much more comfortable now with your body reacting to the attention of these two men with nothing but pure positivity.

Your man wasted no time. As eager as always. He was already shirtless. Deciding to leave the shirt had been wearing during dinner behind because he wouldn’t need it here anyways. Sporting just his swimming shorts that fit him oh so perfectly. Showing off his delicious V-Line and the smooth of his pelvis as he moved to the edge of the pool. The strong muscles along his arms bulged and rippled with every move he made when he picked up the drinks for you and himself. The sight of his muscles made your mouth water. As if it were your first time seeing him. You’d never get over it.

“Water ain’t even that cold. You two heated it up enough with your makeout session.” Jungkook joked, stepping down confidently into the pool and slowly sinking into the water, both drinks in hand as he steadied his balance, “For you, mama. Something fruity and light.” He held the cocktail out to you as he joined the other side of you, “And for you, my brother. I made us something strong because you’ll need your stamina tonight.” Jungkook gave Jimin a snarky smile when he leaned over to look at Jimin who was on your other side, “Cheers.” He held his glass up to the two of you,

You and Jimin let out soft laughs, “Cheers!” Three three of you said at the same time, glasses clinking together in perfect unison before you took long drinks, a pleased hummed of satisfaction leaving your lips as you tasted the perfect combination of tequila, grapefruit and lime. Jungkook just knew how much you loved your Palomas, didn’t he.

“Perfect like always, babe. Strong though.” You noted to Jungkook, slowly moving through the water so that you were standing in front of him, freehand holding onto his forearm as you fit yourself against his body, lips leaning up to place a chaste kiss against his cheek, “Thank you, baby.” You smiled, lips wrapping back around the straw of your drink to take another long sip. You felt the effect of the alcohol too quickly. The warm, fluttery feeling of liquor hitting and settling in your stomach. Making your face and body instantly feel hot.

He was going to get you drunk off one drink. You weren’t a sloppy drunk in the slightest. But you definitely were a horny drunk. Jungkook knew what he was doing whenever he made your drinks. One sip and you could immediately feel it in your pussy. You should have known better than to leave him alone in the extensive liquor cabinet of this house. Taking another long sip out of the straw, you were already halfway through with it before you set the glass down onto the pool’s ledge, far away so that you wouldn’t knock it over,

“Anything for you.” Jungkook meant it when he said it. Years of your relationship telling the tale that yes, he would do anything for you. He didn’t even have to go into specifics. The shit you two have been through in the past was testament to the phrase ‘standing in the fire next to you.’

Smiling happily up at Jungkook you tiptoed up as far as you could reach and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips this time to which he responded happily to, the hand that didn’t have his drink within it reaching up to cup your chin with his index finger and thumb. You kissed each other briefly. Lips lingering and the heat burning between the two of you.

The kiss didn’t last longer than a second. Not wanting to display your utter obsession with each other in front of your guest. But it was enough for Jungkook to feel his heart skip a beat or two. You both could kiss each other until the end of time behind closed doors. Right now though, you were with company. You couldn’t leave Jimin out, could you?

“And thank you, Jiminie.” You pulled away from Jungkook and made your way over to Jimin who welcomed you into his arms. Feeling Jungkook’s gaze on the both of you, you smiled to yourself. Knowing he was watching intently, “Thank you for everything.” You hummed, making him place his drink down as you draped your arms over his shoulders then wrapped around his neck, bringing his face down to your height so that you could press a kiss against his lips, “Thank you for being here.” You whispered cheekily to Jimin who smiled in response,

Jimin was quick to set his drink down and away as you made your way over to him. He practically chugged the thing anyways. Making a distasteful face after he swallowed the last bit of the mixed drink so strong and potent. Damn, Jungkook would be the greatest bartender in the world if he could. Jimin was already tipsy thanks to that cocktail. Welcoming you into his arms, Jimin broke out into a smile. His cheeks were already flushed from the booze and his body felt just the right amount of happy thanks to the liquid courage.

“Oh.. don’t you do that, princess.” Shaking his head in protest, Jimin’s arms slid around your waist, hands roaming to rest over your ass as he corrected you, “Don’t you thank me for nothin’.” He gazed into your eyes, a hand reaching up to move a wet strand of hair away from your face, “Thank you for having me, pretty girl.” You smiled at him as you brought him into a kiss and Jimin welcomed your lips against his. Feeling no type of way over the fact that Jungkook was just inches away watching the two of you. That’s what your man liked anyways. Jimin had no problem giving him a show if that’s what he wanted, “Beautiful little thing.” He mused against your mouth while you two kissed, the hand resting over your ass giving it a firm squeeze, “With a nice ass too.” He complimented smugly, making your ass jiggle after he grabbed it, “Fuck, I wanna put you on my tongue. Wanna taste you.” Jimin hissed quietly, making you laugh into the kiss,

Jungkook watched and listened intently to Jimin. Feeling the chub in his swimming shorts beginning to tent the harder he became. He could visualize the things Jimin wanted to do to you so clearly and seeing the thoughts infiltrate his head in perfect clarity made Jungkook dizzy, “We can make that happen.” He interjected with a quick nod, his eyes turning to look at you as you pulled away from Jimin’s lips at his suggestion, “If you’re ready, baby.” He raised a brow and you smiled happily, head nodding enthusiastically,

Jimin looked towards you for confirmation and you smiled knowingly, having been waiting in agony for this moment, you were beyond ready,

“Always ready.” You mused, wading over to Jungkook who’s big, strong hands grabbed hold of either side of your waist to hoist you out of the water and onto the ledge of the pool. You landed onto the ground with a loud, wet plop. A soft laugh leaving your excited lips from his display of strength, “Hurry, Jimin.” You demanded, your body leaning back and legs spreading as Jimin moved to where you sat and helped you prop your feet along the ledge of the pool,

“Who’s being impatient now?” Jimin teased, his hands resting along your inner thighs as he pushed them apart,

Jungkook hummed out at Jimin’s teasing and he clicked his tongue, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, brother.” A smile began to turn at the corners of his mouth, “Don’t keep her waiting. She gets mean when she has to wait.” Jungkook commented with a nod, his eyes lingering on your wet skin dripping with water, “Don’t you, baby?” He asked with a smirk along his lips and you ignored him,

You inhaled shakily, throwing Jungkook a look as he called you out for your impatience. Like it was your fault for being turned on by these two men with undeniable attractiveness, “I can’t wait any longer.” You whispered breathlessly, “I’m so wet.” You announced, hips raising as you felt Jimin’s fingers hooking around your underwear to pull it down and off you, freeing your thighs from the wet material and letting it dangle carelessly from one of your ankles. The three of you too overcome with desire to bother taking it fully off you,

“You don’t have to wait anymore, angel. We got you.” Jimin hummed, lidded eyes staring up at your pretty face as he sank into the water between your thighs, “We’ll take care of you now.” He nodded and Jungkook made a noise of agreement with his friend as he propped himself up against the ledge of the pool closer to you. Empty drink glass in hand, you hardly noticed Jungkook too had downed his drink. Eager to start the show you guessed,

"Just trust us." Jungkook mused, leaning up to capture your lips into a kiss as Jimin’s own lips roamed along your inner thigh. Jimin’s hot breath fanned out over your skin. Over the sensitivity of your exposed clit. Over your wet entrance. You whined out desperately, legs twitching in anticipation as Jimin loomed over your leaking pussy, “Relax, mama. You’re shaking.” Jungkook instructed you in between kisses, feeling you practically vibrate beside him in anticipation, “Thatta girl.” He whispered when your body began to still, his lips serving as a form of comfort to calm you down when you started to grow impatient, “You have to let Jimin enjoy this too, baby. Let him get a nice look at how beautiful you are. He’s not like me, you know.” Jungkook cooed to you, “He likes to take his time. Likes to worship.” Your man nodded, cupping your chin so that you could look only at him, “Likes to give you the princess treatment.” Jungkook hummed, licking into your mouth.

Your hands curled into the stoned ground below you, “You know I hate being treated like a princess.” You could hear the pout in your voice, nails scratching over the bricked surface as you met Jungkook’s tongue with yours and tasted the strong liquor off his lips mixed with the faintest taste of cigarette smoke. He had smoked just before joining the two of you, you were sure of it, “But fuck, you’re both so hot. I don’t even care.” You whispered to Jungkook, catching his lower lip and pulling on his lip piercings with your teeth shamelessly before you broke away from him to let out a soft groan,

Feeling Jimin’s fingers brush over your entry, your entire body shivered, forcing you to pull away from Jungkook at the sudden feeling of intrusion happening between your thighs, “Oh God.” You whispered, legs threatening to close and trap his head in your space. You were so sensitive and nothing even happened yet.

“You really are dripping.” Jimin commented with a groan, his lips watering at the way your entrance glistened with your juices leaking out, “Fuck, that’s sexy.” He leaned in close to your folds, his breath blowing over your clit as he spoke.

You struggled to contain your composure. Not wanting to be mean like Jungkook mentioned but you were about to grab your friend by the head and grind on his face yourself if he didn’t do anything soon, “God.” Your voice hitched in you throat, feeling Jimin’s mouth kissing over your folds, “Fuck, please.” You whispered, lips quivering as you glanced down to your friend mouthing over you,

Jungkook’s lips found their way to the side of your neck, “You sure you don’t want the princess treatment tonight, babe?” Jungkook snarked, “She wants to be treated like a whore, I think.” He nodded to Jimin, “Tell him, baby.” Jungkook smiled proudly, his face invading your space to press a soft kiss against your temple, lips trailing downwards to your cheek and jaw, “Tell Jimin how well your man knows you.” He murmured against your skin, the cocky smile on his face never faltering,

“Yes. That’s what I want.” You almost begged, “Jungkook knows what I want.” You spoke as if you were entranced under a spell. Like a puppet. “He knows what I like.” You nodded quickly, struggling to take a breath as you forced yourself to wait.

Jimin didn’t tease you any further after that. He wasn’t much of a tease anyways. Not like Jungkook who didn’t give in to your pleading no matter how much you begged sometimes. Jimin wanted to give you anything you wanted and more. He wasn’t hard to sway when it came to your moans.

With his lips pressing against your flesh, you sighed out in relief, almost bursting out with tears when you finally felt the soft suction of his lips attach against your clit to kiss it. “Fuck.” Jimin cursed under his breath at the taste of you, body dipping down lower until he was sinking more into the water, his tongue flicking over your clit then dragging downwards to your entrance, his own lewd moan muffling against your body as he lapped up your wetness,

Your jaw locked tight, eyes staring up blindly at the dark sky above you as your head dropped backwards, “F-Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You kept the swears rolling, “Holy fuck.” You cursed the moon, the stars, the clouds and just about everything in between. With your eyes finally closing, you let out a soft whimper, your shaky hand reaching down between your thighs to press against the back of Jimin’s head, guiding him as he worked on you,

“You sound so pretty.” Jungkook commented from beside you, clearly enjoying your reaction towards his friend, “See what I mean when I told you every hyung’s different?” He mused as if you could even focus on his words, “That’s why I want you to experience every unique thing my brothers have to offer.” Jungkook smiled, fingers moving your sopping wet hair away from your shoulders as he pressed heated kisses along your skin, teeth digging into the flesh along your neck and sucking the skin into his mouth,

Jungkook always knew Jimin was next on the list to fuck you and the years between when Taehyung did it first and now gave Jungkook enough time to calculate when would be the right time to ask Jimin. See, these things didn’t just happen lickity split. Good things take time and Jungkook was never in a rush.

After all, it did once take Jungkook every ounce of courage he had to even share this fantasy with you. And when it came to sharing you with his friends, he needed to make sure they weren’t just goofing around whenever any of them happened to mention wanting a night with you and him. When it came to Jimin though, Jungkook was very sure out of all his hyungs, he wanted you most. It was just a matter of playing the waiting game and biding his time before he could initiate anything. Lucky for him though, you mentioned taking a dip in the pool with Jimin on your own tonight. Making it easy for things to fall into place without Jungkook having to orchestrate anything.

Jungkook could tell Jimin wanted one change with you from the way his friend simply looked at you. He only needed to make sure Jimin wasn’t all just talk because if he could recall correctly, the night Jungkook met you for the very first time at the club you worked years ago, Jimin did happen to be the one that noticed you first. However, when it came down to who was going to buy a dance from you that night, Jimin backed out at the last minute. Leaving Jungkook to have you for himself… just like now… All these years later. Oh how Jungkook wished he could bet fat bills on how much Jimin had kicked himself that night for missing his chance.

You were too busy to even acknowledge Jungkook whispering in your ear. Even though you could hear every word he said, nothing registered. Nothing stuck. You were too engrossed in the feelings of pleasure dancing along your skin in the form of tingles, “I know.” You moaned out to Jungkook, “You’re all so..--” You squeaked a moan out when you felt Jimin’s tongue dip into you, losing your train of thought for a moment before you spoke again, “You’re all so- fucking good to me.” You purred, fingers pulling on Jimin’s hair, hips starting to grind over his mouth and face as he fucked you with his tongue,

Jimin grunted in response to you when you began to grind over his face, “Yeah, use me, love.” He pulled back to whisper between breaths, “Use my face.” He nodded with encouragement. Lips, mouth and face pressing back between your thighs, your clit grinding over his nose as his tongue dived back into you, lapping and sucking up your juices as if he had been without water for days,

“Yes…” You said the word maybe ten times already, “Fuck yes.” Okay, maybe 11 now. You just couldn’t articulate anything else to say. Your brain simply wouldn’t let you process anything else except feeling the pure heaven coursing through your body at the moment. Especially when your clit ground over Jimin’s mouth. Or when the little flicks of his tongue moving up every now and then came to meet your clit as his tongue moved in and out of you. You were sensitive beyond belief. Feeling the clench in your abdomen. Feeling the pulsating of your clit. Feeling the rush of wetness soaking your entrance the more closer you got to your orgasm,

Jungkook’s lips moved leisurely over every inch of your body he could reach. From your jawline to your neck and all the way down to your shoulder. A large hand cupped over your breast to play with your sensitive nipple too. He was slow. Took his time. Not in any rush to do anything except soothe you with his kisses until he felt your focus begin to stray. You were getting close to the peak and Jungkook knew this one was going to take a lot of energy out of you. So what kind of partner would he be if he didn’t help you get there even faster?

“Don’t go.” You whined when you felt Jungkook start to slowly pull away from where he was kissing on your neck. His hand that was playing with your breasts moved to grip onto the pool’s ledge as he sunk himself into the water instead,

Jungkook simply kept his eyes on you as he lowered himself into the pool, “Just trust me.” He nodded, a coy smile on his lips when he joined Jimin between your thighs. He kept his gaze locked on yours, eyes lowering to a smoldering stare while his friend felt the motion in the pool and pulled away from your throbbing pussy to move to the side and make space for Jungkook to join him, your man leaning in and wasting not a single second further. He took hold of your foot barely holding your body upright, pressing a kiss against your inner ankle and then moving his lips along your calf. Letting you feel his lips rings roaming over your skin before he placed your foot back onto the ledge of the pool and finally settled with his face at your pussy, “Fuckin’ soaking.” He cursed and then pressed his nose into your clit. In the way only he knew you liked. Making your eyes roll shut, mouth going slack and dropping open to let out a lewd moan,

“Oh… oh shit.” You gasped, your feet that were propped up onto the ledge of the pool nearly slipped and set your leg into the water when you felt Jungkook take over from Jimin’s spot and dive in between your thighs, his tongue flattening immediately over your clit, drawing circles around the sensitive flesh while Jimin took a moment to catch his breath.

“Shit, baby. Just like that.” You nodded, feeling your thighs begin to shake when his finger probed at your entrance, “Yes, fuck me, please.” You begged, breath panting when he began to slide his middle finger into you, his lips pulling away from your clit only for him to spit right onto it, letting his saliva drip from your clit to your entrance then he leaned back in again, tongue rolling and gliding between your folds freely, finger angling upwards as it moved in you to touch your entire soul.

Your body moved on its own. Using whatever strength you had left to lift yourself a bit to meet Jungkook’s finger each time he pushed it into you, “That’s my girl.” Jungkook husked as you lifted your hips and grounded yourself over his finger, “Fuck yourself like that on my fingers, baby.” He hummed out proudly, “She’s such a good girl, isn’t she, Jimin?” He asked his friend who agreed. Their voices sounded so far away. And you were too fucked out to even hear them talking by now. You couldn’t care less about anything else except chasing that sweet release you could feel building up anyways,

“Move over a bit, Kook.” You heard Jimin say and as shameless as Jimin was, he truly caught you off guard this time when he leaned down as well next to Jungkook. Going back to his previous position only this time, sharing the space with your man.

He didn’t care. Jungkook didn’t seem to either. They were both too drunk on lust to give a fuck that they were basically kissing each other as they both ate you out. And when Jimin’s tongue joined Jungkook’s? Taking over the spots that your man missed. His tongue flicking over your clit while Jungkook licked at your entrance the same time as he fingered you. You swore on your life this was the hottest thing you had ever experienced. So hot that the fucking feeling started to make you jolt and cry above them,

“Fuck, I’m- I’m.. gonna cum.” You squeaked out, “No, fuck, I’m gonna–” You actually started to cry now, feeling your stomach’s muscles contract and that familiar feeling of pleasure start to prick along your skin. Making you feel as though you were going to explode. And explode you would. “I–I- I think..” You couldn’t speak anymore, your words getting stuck in your brain as you attempted to get their attention,

Jimin’s mouth moved from your clit to your inner thigh, letting Jungkook take over again so that he could talk you through your reaching orgasm, “Come on, angel.” Jimin urged you, his sleek brown eyes looking up at you as if he was begging, “Wanna feel our slut cream all over us.” He hummed, lips tracing along your inner thigh and then he was helping Jungkook by reaching down and pushing his index finger into you. You let out a gasp at the feeling of his finger entering you. And then the realization that both men were fingering you hit you like a truck, making your hips writhe in pleasure, “Just like that, honey. Keep going.” Jimin instructed you when you began to rock your hips against their fingers inside of you. Two different fingers from two different men. The sensations were throwing you over the edge and suddenly you felt the impending doom named your orgasm suck you into a void,

“--I’m gonna squirt!” You finally managed to get out. almost screaming in ecstasy but they ignored your warnings. Urging you to meet that climax as they swapped positions without you realizing, Jimin’s finger now pushing into you alone and Jungkook’s mouth now at your clit again. It was all too much and you couldn’t hold back anymore. And with one, two, three more whines, you lost control. Squirting on the two men between your legs with a cry.

Tears leaked out of your eyes as you shook and shivered above them. Sobs of pure bliss leaving your lips as you gasped for air, “Oh my god.” You cried, the orgasm shooting through your body and making you squeeze your eyes closed so tight you saw white behind them, “F-Fuck.. Fuck.” You continued, legs going limp and your chest heaving for air as your body worked through the orgasm. Your man and his friend didn’t relent. They didn’t move out of the way. Didn’t duck and grimace at you for squirting. They fucking loved it. Only slowing their movements to help you through the climax, letting you ride it out on their faces, fingers and tongues. Each of them wanting to get a taste of you. Both battling to get a drink of the nectar that was you.

You felt like water. Flowing, free and intense.

⋆⭒˚☾⋆.˚

“Look at her. Little fucking slut.” Your man spoke through clenched teeth, his hand burying into your wet hair and holding your head still, “Let me fuck your mouth like that.” He kept you in place, hips rocking back and forth to make you swallow down his cock, “Good girl. Take it. Keep looking at me.” He commanded and you obliged willingly. The gloss in your eyes making you look as fucked out as ever while you looked up at your man,

You gagged on his length but Jungkook didn’t have any worries about it. He always made you choke like that and you loved it. Loved the thought that tomorrow you’ll wake up with a hoarse voice. Loved the tears welling up in your eyes and making your mascara run down your cheeks. You must have looked crazy. With your makeup smeared and tear stained cheeks. This is what you loved. To be used like this. To be completely at this man’s disposal. Only Jungkook could be like this with you. Only he could be this rough and this cruel. That was the difference between letting someone into your sex life. He made it known through the whole room who you belonged to and Jimin never tried to overstep that boundary.

“Mmf.. Baby..” You gasped for air when Jungkook let you breathe, “You’re so big. Making me choke.” You complimented him and saw the way his chest puffed up, all confident from your commentary. You knew how much he loved when you praised him, “Feels so good.” You hummed, lips lazily dragging along his length, your tongue tracing the curve of his cock before you wrapped your lips around him again,

“Don’t forget about Jimin, baby. You’re slowing down.” He tsked between moans and you whimpered with his length in your mouth. Eyes shutting and a tear leaking out of your eye as he continued to guide your lips along his cock.

After the earth shattering orgasm you had at the poolside, the guys needed to help you back into the house. You couldn’t keep yourself sitting upright after that and they decided it was best to continue in the bedroom. They were sweet and attentive. Making sure you drank some water. Making sure you were okay to keep going and then helping you into the room like the gentleman they were but pushing you onto the softness of the bed and letting you charge up as they slipped out of their swimming shorts.

You only needed a second to recuperate. To get your legs that felt as though they were stuck in a permanent jello-like state to come back to life. And then you were back at it. Begging for the two of them to put their dicks in your face. So here you are now. On your knees at the edge of the bed while Jungkook and Jimin stood in front of you, your lips wrapped expertly around the length of your man’s cock and your hand wrapped around Jimin’s own. Sucking your man off and pumping his friend at the same time. Switching between them after taking a breath and then continuing the motion all over again. Making everyone in the room sigh out and fill the place with pleasurable noises. You thought your man’s moans were sexy but the two of them together? Oh, you were doomed.

“She’s so good.” Jimin was fighting to control the weak moans leaving his lips, “Love this pretty mouth.” He whispered to you, a gentle palm caressing over your cheek, “Such a good fucking slut.” He spat the words out to you despite touching you so gently.

That was such a Jimin thing, wasn’t it? Being soft spoken and sweet but also being filthier than anything. It made you want to do more. To go deeper. And so you did. Your hand around Jungkook’s cock twisting while your thumb rubbed over the tip of him, a silent reminder that you would never forget about your man even though you had Jimin’s length down your throat. It was easier to deep throat Jimin anyways and you knew Jungkook knew that. It wasn’t as though he was smaller. Size never mattered anyways. He just wasn’t as girthy as your man. He was the perfect size and made it easy for you to gag and choke on him without feeling as though you were about to die the way Jungkook’s length would make you do,

With your lips running over the length of Jimin’s cock, your tongue moved along the underside of him, sucking over the veins pulsating and then you were letting the tip of your tongue flick over the head of his cock, lapping at the precum beading at the tip, “Shit.” You moaned at the taste of him, “Tastes so good.” You whispered to Jimin, reaching up to stroke him as you pulled away,

“I want both of you in me.” You whispered with tears on your lashes, “Raw.” Your hope filled eyes stared up at the faces of the two men in front of you as you panted for air and without a second thought, the two of them were climbing onto the bed, Jungkook's firm hand at your shoulder pushing you backwards so that you were on your back,

Jungkook was the only one that’s ever fucked you raw. He wasn’t too keen on letting anyone inside of you without protection. But tonight, he was feeling generous. “You know I don’t always agree to that.” He grunted, “But you’re being such a good girl.” He nodded towards his friend, “And I’m makin’ an exception because it’s Jimin.” Jungkook hummed out low, leaning over the edge of the bed towards the nightstand where he kept a bottle of lube just for moments like this, “On your knees, baby. Gotta prep you for me.” Jungkook commanded and you were already springing into action, a permanent smile on your lips as you rolled over,

“Lay down, handsome.” You beckoned Jimin to lay in the spot you were just in, guiding him with your hands on his shoulders as he collapsed onto the bed with an exhausted grunt, “Tired already?” You pouted at Jimin who only laughed, his hands at your waist to help you as you climbed over onto him and planted your bare body into his lap,

“You tire me out, yes.” He confessed, voice low and deep with desire, “But that’s good. Means I’m working overtime for you.” Jimin smiled up at you and you let out a giggle, your hands resting along his chest before leaning down to press a gentle kiss against his lips,

Smiling triumphantly into the kiss you shared with Jimin, your lips moved lazily against each other for a moment before you began to pull away, your hand resting at the base of his throat as you sat up, “Rest now. I’ll do the work.” You nodded, giving his throat a squeeze that made Jimin’s eyes flutter from the feeling, “Oh.” You moaned after scooting yourself back a bit so that your pussy was pressing down on his rock hard length. You rocked your hips, gliding your clit over his length and shivering from the feeling. You were still too sensitive down there. Too sensitive to give your clit any attention for now.

Jungkook took a seat on the side of the bed in front of you and next to Jimin, lube bottle in hand as he observed you and his friend with intent in his eyes, “Actually, I wanna watch for a bit.” He mused, a smirk playing on his lips, “I’ll join when you’re ready for me.” Jungkook nodded to you, an encouraging smile on his face although his dick was throbbing in agony for release.

This moment was more important than his own self. Your moment and satisfaction was important to him and Jungkook knew how bad you wanted someone inside of you. He knew putting his cock inside of your ass right away would be too much for you and so, he decided to wait. To watch and wait until you were in pure bliss.

Lost in Jungkook’s eyes as he spoke, you felt yourself getting warped into his stare. That endless deep sea of chocolate coloured eyes made you feel as though you were the only person in the room. As if he could see right into your soul. This whole time you had been on a high. A high you didn’t want to come down from. Your body moved on its own through it all. Feeling the slick between your thighs from your own mess. Letting yourself chase hungrily after the attention these men gave you. Your mind was in a different state. A state that made you possessed with lust. You felt as though you were in an alternate reality. As if this wasn’t really you. But one look at Jungkook. One look at him reminded you that this was very real. This was happening. The realization made you begin to tremble with excitement and you smiled knowingly at him. Knowingly because you knew he felt it too,

“Whenever you’re ready, princess.” Jimin cooed and you nodded, wasting no more time, you took a deep breath and lifted yourself up. With the help of Jimin, he took you by the hip with one hand and reached down between your legs with his freehand, making his cock press into your entrance. His teeth clamped down shut feeling the heat of his dick pushing at your entry, “Fuck.” He grunted under his breath and you moved his hand away from his length as you positioned yourself above him on your own, grazing your folds over the tip of his cock before you slowly let him insert himself into you,

Your head dropped back at that. Teeth trapping over your lower lip and biting down onto the flesh as you lulled your head to the side and gasped, eyes fluttering as you listened to the wet sounds your body made as you sunk down onto him, “Sh–Shit.” You stuttered, a hand holding over your breast while the other rested along Jimin’s abdomen, long acrylic nails digging into his skin. You could feel yourself being stretched open by him. Could feel the twitch and throb of his cock filling you up. Your legs quaked, the all too familiar feeling of jelly coming back into them as the stimulation of his length inside of you made you shake, “So big.” You breathed out, feeling the curve of himself in you as you sat down on his cock, your hips rocking to help you adjust yourself to his size,

Jimin stared wordlessly as he watched the way your pussy swallowed his dick up, “She’s so tight.” He blurted, head shaking in dismay because after all that creaming and squirting, you were still putting his length in a vice grip, “Oof.” He husked out breathlessly, eyes looking up at your face as you began to rock your hips against him, “You okay, princess?” He asked, hands resting over your thighs and giving them a squeeze, “Move whenever you’re ready. Don’t force yourself.” He was so sweet.

Jungkook on the other hand was in another world. Getting a full view of yourself lowering onto his friend’s cock shouldn’t have made his dick twitch the way it did. The painful throb in his length returned to slap him in the face and bring him back to reality as he watched on with hungry eyes.

This part of being a cuck was always the worst. Having to watch and feel himself slip into his delusions. Having to sit and just… watch. Watch the way you stretch out onto someone else’s dick. Desperate whines leaving your lips as you forced yourself to take it all. It was agonizing having to keep his hands to himself. How could a person that yelled about someone separating perilla leaves for you have a kink like this? Was it weird to be a jealous person by nature but also love to see your girl get fucked by his mates? Questions like this plagued Jungkook’s mind but he didn’t even want to try and figure it out. This is what Jungkook liked. This is what Jungkook wanted.

“Oh, Jimin.” The way you said your friend’s name made Jungkook focus. His gaze growing dark and desperate as you began to move. Hips rocking side to side for you to find the right angle and then you were bouncing. Lifting yourself up and pushing back down. Making his friend fill you up with his cock each time.

Jimin watched you with a slack jaw, one hand resting over your thigh and the other hanging onto your waist, guiding you up and down on his length with his hand squeezing over your skin. He closed his eyes briefly. Just for a moment. Taking the second to relish in the feeling. The feeling of your walls closing around him each time you sank down on his cock. The feeling of your warmth and tightness taking more of him each time you bounced, his lips letting out deep grunts as your skin slapped against each other, “Jungkook, you lucky fuck.” He cursed between breaths, eyes opening to glance over to his friend at his side, “No wonder you stay buying her a new car every. fucking. month.” He grunted the last three words out in time with you bouncing on him, “No wonder she has her own black card.” He hissed out, head dropping back against the pillow under him,,

Jungkook's lips involuntarily spread into a proud smile and he nodded, “Anything she wants. She gets.” He confirmed, “Nothing is too much when she’s bouncing on me like that. She could make me do anything she wants.” He started to chuckle, eyes on the way your breasts bounced along with your movements,

The two friends spoke about you as if you weren’t in the room and it made you start to giggle at their honesty, “S-S…Sounds like you’re– ah,” You moaned, “Like you’re enjoying yourselves.” You whispered out quickly, slowing your movements so that you were grinding over Jimin with his dick in you, “Fuck, I could cum from this.” You purred, “You feel so fucking good in me.” You gazed down at your friend, taking your hands within your own and bringing them to your chest, “Touch me.” You instructed him, your waist rocking in a way that made his length rub against that spot deep inside of you that made you see stars, “Fuck me.” You continued, making him raise his hips to fuck into you as you stilled yourself from moving,

Jimin did as told. Hands cupping over your breasts and massaging over them as he gnawed over his lip, “I won’t last if you keep doing this.” He confessed, “I’m gonna nut so fucking quick.” He shook his head, fingers tweaking over your nipples and making your head drop back as you moaned. Planting his feet down onto the bed, he used the mattress as momentum to raise his hips and begin to thrust up into you at your command, hands dropping to rest over your ass, palms squeezing and making your ass clap as he pushed himself into you, “Like that?” He husked out, your body leaning down towards his chest as he held you close to him,

“Harder.” You commanded… demanded.

And harder he went. Holding you in place as he began to thrust with more force up into you, making your body jolt and shake from the feeling. He used the strength in his thick ass thighs to pound into you, making you entire world flip upside down as you moaned into his shoulder, your face burying into his neck and hands gripping over his shoulder, “Fuck yes, harder. Harder.” You whimpered into his skin, teeth grazing over his flesh and digging into him, leaving indents of your teeth on his neck,

“Damn.” You heard Jungkook breathe out and he shifted with discomfort next to the two of you. He was dying at this point. The tip of his dick pooling with precum and his fists balling into the sheets of the bed, gripping over the material and trying not to rip into it as the agonizing pain in his angry cock started to make him dizzy, “You’re driving me fucking crazy.” He grunted, making your eyes flash open so that you could look at him,

“Koo…” You groaned your man’s name while Jimin continued, making Jungkook’s head snap up like a dog hearing its owner at the sound of his name dripping out of your lips like sweet honey, “I need you now.” You nodded fast, “Need you inside me too, baby.” You could feel Jimin’s cock throbbing inside of you and you knew he wasn’t lying when he said he was close. But he felt so good. You didn’t want it to end, “Don’t you cum yet, Jiminie.” You begged, “Not yet.” You hummed out although your hips kept moving to meet his thrusts, “I-...” You felt your stomach start to clench and shook your head, trying to focus on anything except climaxing, “I want you, Koo.” You breathed out through your nose and Jungkook stood up all too quickly at your statement, snatching the bottle of lube off the bed with a grunt,

“I’m here, mama.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

With teeth gritting, Jungkook heaved a breath. Barely making an inch into you before you were already trying to push back against him, your ass moving with fervor. Needing more of him before he was even fully inside of you. The feeling was indescribable. The bed he knelt on felt like a plank under him although the mattress was softer than anything. The weight of his body felt dull and heavy. Your body felt so far away. Jungkook’s mind was spinning. Losing oxygen in his lungs because he was holding his breath. This action wasn’t all that new to your relationship. Anal. But this position was entirely new. Double penetration.

Jungkook wasn’t even sure you would be able to handle it. He clearly underestimated you with the way you were searching for more feeling from him even with having his friend’s cock deep inside of you already, “Easy, baby” Jungkook’s hand pressed at your lower back, “Don’t wanna hurt you.” His jaw flexed while his hand on your back snaked its way up to grip onto your hair, pulling the locks into his fist while the other hand slowly guided his cock into you.

Using the width of Jimin’s chest, you placed your palms down onto him to keep yourself from falling forward. You used him for some much needed support as you attempted to relax. Stray pieces of your hair were stuck to your forehead that was dotted with sweat. Your back glistening with perspiration too. You were exhausted and your body was working overtime to accommodate the width of your man’s cock inside of you. The initial stretch hurt as he pushed the head of dick pass the ring of muscles in your ass. Feeling as though he might split you in two but you were stronger than Jungkook knew. You could take him and that you were sure of.

“H..Hah..” You whimpered, The squelching noise of lubricant filling the room with your quiet groans as your man pushed the tip of his dick against your ass. Even though he had prepped you for as long as you could hold off for, the pressure was still borderline unbearable. And here you thought Jimin stretching your pussy apart was too much. But your man’s cock so wide and girthy as it was, had the pleasure rushing up your back and fanning out across your shoulders, taking the life out of you, “H-Hi.” You managed to breathe out as you came close to Jimin’s face, your lips ghosting over his own as you looked into his eyes,

“Hi, honey.” Jimin started to smile, “You okay, princess?” He whispered to you, his dick inside you still raging hard even though you were no longer bouncing on him, “Breathe.” He instructed you, fingertips reaching up to brush the tear trailing out of your eye away, “Try to relax, okay? It’ll feel better soon.” He cooed, his head leaning up to press an airy kiss against your lips, “The calmer you are the easier it is for Jungkook to fit. Don’t you want to feel good?” He smiled as you nodded through shaky breaths while you kissed each other, “Good girl. Almost there.” He hummed out softly into your mouth, his voice sweet and calming. Making it just a smidge more easier for you to relax.

Thankful for his friend’s encouragement to you, Jungkook was able to push more of his length into you. He couldn’t even speak or offer calming words himself because he had his teeth digging into his lower lip. Trying to refrain from hissing out from the way your ass hugged his cock so tight and perfect. You both weren’t avid anal doers mostly because the prep work was far too time consuming for two people who liked to get down and dirty fast. But whenever the special occasion did arise, it was always a good time. “Beautiful.” Jungkook finally whispered, the last of his length sliding all the way into you, making your back arch and mouth hang open as a muffled moan left your lips and got swallowed by Jimin’s mouth. Jungkook's hand in your hair gave the locks a firm tug, “Ready when you are, mama.” He exhaled, freehand coming up to wipe the sweat from his neck,

Jimin was right. The more pliant you became, the quicker it was for your body to open up to Jungkook and welcome his size into you. It wasn’t easy though. Not even with three fingers inside of you could prepare just how big Jungkook felt. You swore you could feel even the veins on his length inside of you. Rubbing against your walls and filling you up in ways that will definitely give you a wobble in your step tomorrow.

You sighed out with a satisfied groan, your lungs feeling easier to breathe now that he was finally all the way in. There was truly nothing better than feeling the man of your dreams filling you up in the way Jungkook could. It was like he was made for you alone, “M..Move, baby.” You nodded, pulling away from Jimin’s lips to brace yourself for what was coming,

With one thrust as a test, Jungkook moaned out under his breath, his head shaking as it dropped back to look at the ceiling. He closed his eyes for a second. Thanking God for blessing him by bringing a woman like you into his life. Dude didn’t even believe in religion but you had him praying anyway. “Shit.” He bit the inside of his cheek and then made one more thrust, his friend underneath you aiming his hips up right after Jungkook’s thrust to push into you himself.

The shock of electricity that shot through your veins almost knocked the wind out of you. You gasped out loud. Nails clawing into Jimin’s chest, your hand wrapping around his throat to hold onto him as they took turns thrusting into you. Jungkook made the first and Jimin followed. You were thankful for them being careful. The two of them being the more level headed ones out of the three of you. It wasn't your fault that you were so cock hungry for these two men. The things they did to you just had you wanting to be the greatest slut for them. Still, you were grateful for their attentiveness. Grateful that they took their time. Choosing your comfort and pleasure before their own. Now, thanks to all the prep and patience, the feeling of having both your holes filled made you think as though you were dying and coming back to life again. With each thrust the two friends made, the pitch of your voice grew higher. Turning into squeaks and pleas for more.

Dancers were always quick to find rhythm when music played. Jungkook and Jimin were no different in the bedroom. They followed the beat of your body perfectly. With their eyes trained on you. Reading your body language and following after you like two hungry animals. They chased the feeling. Thrusting deeper, harder and faster when you asked. You begged them to use you. To do whatever they wanted as long as they both released into you. You were nothing but a vessel now. The only thing you needed to do was hold yourself up and let yourself feel. They put in all the work. Cooing to you and telling you did such a good job being a slut just for them.

“Harder.” You mewled out, “Make me hurt.” Tears pricked your eyes and you struggled to swallow the lump in your throat. A sob of ecstasy threatening to break free from your lips. You didn’t want to walk tomorrow. You wanted to wake up tomorrow and be sore all over. That’s what you craved every time and right now was no different. You wanted a reminder every time you sat down. Every time you walked. Every time you bent. With both your men obliging to your requests, you could feel yourself desperately searching for that sweet spot your body craved to experience the most. You didn’t dare touch your clit. Knowing that stimulation paired with the rest would definitely send you over the edge. You didn’t even know if you could after the ravaging it went through by the pool. Instead, you let the seconds tick on. Let the minutes progress while you pushed back against Jungkook and pressed down on Jimin, hips circling as you yearned to feel the tips of their dicks so deep inside of you hitting the perfect spots.

“Can you take it?” Jungkook grunted to you between thrusts, his hand fisting tighter into your hair and giving it a nice, harsh pull, “Talk to me, baby. Tell me how you feel.”

“Yea–” You tried to speak, knowing your man loved to hear you, “Yes…– I can take it, baby.” You nodded, your forehead resting against the center of Jimin’s chest, “Feels so– fucking good. Both of you.” You whimpered the words out, hearing your friend laugh under you,

“Such a sweet girl.” Jimin cooed into your ear, hands roaming over your waist as he pushed himself upwards into you, “Can’t wait to bust inside you.” He nearly growled the words out. Making your skin start to burn at the sound of his voice. The gentle, soft octave no longer existed. Jimin’s voice was raw with desire. Low rumbles leaving his chest each time he spoke, “Gonna fill this pretty pussy up.” He continued, the rhythm of his flow starting to lose momentum as he grew closer and closer to release,

Jungkook grunted in response, freehand giving your ass a slap to make it bounce against his length, “Baby, this ass is looking like a masterpiece.” His Busan accent was making its feature the more drunk with pleasure he got and usually, the more turned on Jungkook got, the more unhinged his thoughts became as well, “Wish you could see this, Jimin-ssi. Maybe–” He took a pause to catch his breath, “--Maybe next time we can switch.” Jungkook huffed, chest rising and falling with every breath he took, his sweat trickling from his neck to slide between his pecs, “How do you want me, babe? On your back or inside you?” His hand that rested on your ass roamed up your sweaty back to grip onto your shoulder, a firm tattooed hand grabbing over your skin and leaving a trail of fire along your back wherever he touched, “Tell your Koo what you want.” He spoke between thrusts,

You pondered Jungkook’s question but your mind ran a blank each time you tried to come up with an answer. How did he expect you to respond with his dick ramming into you like this? Having him nut inside you would be a real mess to clean up and you knew you’d be sitting in the shower for a long time to get clean after. But the feeling. Fuck, the feeling of having both these men releasing inside of your holes had you answering without a second thought, ��In me.” You pleaded, “Want you to cum inside me.”

And there it was. The moment you had been craving the most. Your soul left your body at the unexpected feeling from Jungkook’s new angle. The force of him using your shoulder as support while he drove his length into you made Jimin raise his hips higher to compete with his friend’s thrusts. Your friend pressed into your g-spot. The curve of his dick pushing at it and making you start to tremble. Your walls closed around Jimin’s cock and your throat went dry. Unable to tell your men that you were going to cum. They knew anyways. Knew your body by now. Knew that when you seized up and your legs began to shake meant you were hitting that peak. Only now it was more intense than ever. With the added sensation of your man in your ass, you could only hide your face into Jimin’s sweat slicked chest and cry out pleas for them not to stop.

You died. You had to. Died and came back to life. Or as the french would call it, la petite mort. You had to put this shit on the top 10 climaxes of your life that’s for sure.

You collapsed onto Jimin with your arms giving out but he caught you and held on, arms snaking around your body and hushing your babbling with soothing words although his hands that rested over your ass, started spreading your cheeks wider for Jungkook to keep thrusting, “That’s our girl.” He coaxed the orgasm out of you, “Do what you need. Hurt me, I don’t give a fuck.” He hummed out as you bit over his collar, your nails scraping down his chest to his abs.

The sensation of you creaming on his length made Jimin’s breath begin to accelerate. Your walls gripping around the base of his cock and trapping him inside of you. His mouth began to water. And he could feel how sweaty he was. The realization that he was close made him more aware of his surroundings now but he couldn’t do anything to stop it. His stomach clenched and filled with heat. His dick twitching and while you rocked your hips to ride the climax out, Jimin knew at that moment he was done for.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Jimin announced, making Jungkook snicker out from behind you, “Shut up.” He spat to Jungkook who, although he couldn’t see, knew had a stupidly cocky grin along his lips.

You begged for him to cum inside of you and Jimin didn’t need to be told twice. Making one, two more thrusts and then he stilled, head dropping with a thud against the pillow under his head as he released into you. His cum shooting right up inside of you and filling you up. He let out a deep moan, groaning your name lewdly as he held you up and thrust himself into you while you mustered strength to meet his thrusts, helping him to ride the release out the same way he helped you, “Don’t pull out.” You whispered to Jimin, soft fingertips gliding over his rosy cheeks as you pressed your forehead against his, “Stay inside me until Jungkook finishes.”

Listening to you begging Jimin to cockwarm you made Jungkook delirious. He wished so badly to be a fly on the wall just to watch the scene unfolding. But his own view wasn’t too shabby if he had to say so himself. “Fuck, I’m dying.” He groaned, sweat dripping from his hair and making him feel sticky. He didn’t care. No one did. That was the beauty of sex. You both liked it nasty. Like it sweaty. After all, that’s what showers were for, right?

And for all that laughing Jungkook was doing at his friend earlier, he shut up immediately when he felt his own balls start to swell with the need to release. Hearing your cute little whines and cries from the sensitivity of your orgasm and his friend nutting inside you was enough to push Jungkook towards the end. His lips pressed together tight, hips stuttering for a moment and then he was pushing you downwards, raising your ass and pinning you against Jimin,

“Fuck.” He cursed out loud and you beckoned him to fill you up, your hand weakly reaching behind you to grab over your ass cheek, spreading yourself and backing up to reach his pelvis, “Stay that way.” He instructed you to which you had no problem obliging, “Fuck, like that.” Jungkook nodded with a breathless whisper as you backed up on him, making his cock burying deep inside of you, “Shit, babe–” Was the last thing he said and then he was spilling into you. The obscene sounds of his groans, his cum shot and the lube noises were filthy. So sexy.

The release made Jungkook dizzy. The pressure made the blood rush to his head and caused him almost to lose balance for a moment. He pressed his face into your back as he came, lips and tongue trailing up your spine. Swiping the sweat on your back away with the tip of his tongue and then he was sinking his teeth into your flesh, body quivering and moans muffled against your body while he rode it out. Rode it out until the head of his cock tingled with sensitivity. And then he was pulling out of you, leaning back and holding your ass apart to watch his cum start to trickle out of you,

“Fuck, that’s gorgeous.” He groaned, letting you go as the adrenaline wore off and exhaustion took over at once, “Come here, my love.” He called out to you, collapsing onto the bed next to Jimin with a huff. He pushed a hand through the sweat soaked hair on top of his head, fixing the disheveled mess and running his fingers through the locks to get it out of his face, “You alright, baby?” Jungkook questioned you, tired eyes inspecting over your face to ensure that you were okay,

Weakly, you peeled yourself off Jimin. A small whine leaving your lips as you pulled your body off from where his cock stayed nice and snug inside of you. Clenching your walls to keep his cum inside of you, you scrambled over to Jungkook and curled up on your side between the two men and let Jungkook pull you into his arms as he glanced over to Jimin, “You good too?” He asked his friend and Jimin nodded limply, eyes glazed and fucked out as he turned over to face the two of you, his hand reaching over to trail over your waist,

The two friends exchanged a look. One of… appreciation. One of… thankfulness. And one of… never to mention this interaction to anyone. Not in fear of judgment but in fear that the other’s would grow jealous because there was no chance in hell they wouldn’t feel some type of way knowing something fucking intense and exhilarating as this took place.

“That was amazing.” Jimin commented with a tired sigh and he leaned over, moving your hair away to press a kiss against your shoulder. He lingered over your body for a few moments. Face pressing and nosing over your skin before he reached down towards the blankets half hanging off the mattress, his form sliding out of the bed as he pulled the sheets over your body to cover you up, “I’ll go shower first. You two get your rest.” He announced and Jungkook nodded, eyes on his friend’s back as he exited the bedroom on wobbly legs,

“Don’t fall asleep, mama. You gotta shower.” Jungkook hummed out low, arms sliding around your sticky body and bringing you against his chest, “Need anything?” He asked, fingers moving freely through your hair and wrapping the locks that stuck to your back around his wrist and away from your skin in effort to cool your body down, “Want some water?”

Sleep was all you craved now. Your body feeling as if it weren’t connected to your head anymore. As far as you knew, you were already asleep. The daze of getting plowed into by two men making your eyelids heavy. “Not sleeping.” You mumbled and pushed your face into the crook of Jungkook’s neck and shoulder, eyes closing in bliss. You were quiet as Jimin left the room, a longing to have him stay making you want to tell him to wait but the need to be glued to Jungkook’s side was stronger, “Just need you.” A soft whisper mumbled into your man’s skin, “Was I good?” You asked, lifting your head slowly to peek at him.

Hearing the shower in the bathroom turn on in the distance, the noises of water falling made Jungkook sleepy himself. He had his eyes closed, an arm resting behind his head as he laid on his back, soft tufts of air leaving his lips as his breathing stilled, “More than good.” He opened an eye and glanced over to you when he felt your gaze on him, “You were perfect, baby.” He nodded, turning a bit so that he was facing you now and coming closer, his arm snaking around your waist, “Did you ever doubt yourself?” He started to smile, eyes wrinkling cutely and his teeth spreading into a blissful smile, “I never doubted you for a minute.” He nodded, a hand reaching up to cup your cheek, “Thank you for doing this.”

You leaned into Jungkook’s embrace, eyelashes fluttering as you nuzzled his palm with your cheek. Feeling the warmth of his love radiating through his skin and transferring to yours. Sinking into your flesh and injecting into your veins like the finest drug in the world,, “I love you.” You hummed quietly, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his lips, “Thank you.” You smiled more, “Can you shower with me?” You asked, eyes rounding into your signature puppy-eyed look because you knew if your pussy couldn’t make you get your way (which it did all the time, don’t kid yourself), this look would make Jungkook fold in seconds,

Jungkook began to laugh, starting to sit up a bit as he nodded, “Baby, I don’t even think you could walk right now. Let alone stand in the shower by yourself.” He joked, “Can you even feel your legs?” Your goofball of a man was back and it made you roll your eyes tiredly, “Of course we’re showering together. Jimin can change the bedsheets.” He smiled triumphantly,

“Hey– I heard that.” Jimin grumbled as he made his way back into the bedroom after his shower, hair sopped wet from and dripping down his shoulders as he walked into the room with his towel wrapped around his waist, “You’re making us breakfast in the morning if I have to change the sheets..” He declared, arms folding confidently over his chest as he stood before the two of you,

“Deal.” Jungkook agreed with a beam, “I’ll make sure to cook you a nice, hearty breakfast if you do us this favor.” He nodded enthusiastically, grateful for his friend to help with the chore of stripping the bed. It was the least Jimin could do from the way he sweat right through the sheets anyways, “Now help me get our girl to the shower.”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. 　　　　　　　　　　

Feeling soft lips roaming over the side of your neck made you stir in your sleep. A tired hum leaving your mouth while you felt the pair of lips kiss against your collar bone then your shoulder and finally over your bare chest, “Mm… Baby, it’s too early.” You thought it was Jungkook bugging your ass for some early morning loving, “Tomorrow, please.” You grumbled tiredly, “You almost broke me yesterday. I need a day to recover.” Your voice was laced with sleep but the kisses continued, a sweet laugh coming from your side that did not sound like your man’s.

“Jungkook?” You questioned, still in a sleepy daze but slowly realizing that the kisses being placed on your skin were not from him at all. The lip rings you always felt pressing into you were missing.

At that, your eyes slowly fluttered open and you peeked to your side. Not feeling an urgency to panic over who the mystery person was because you knew in this house, you were safe no matter what, “Oh..” A tired smile formed along your lips as Jimin greeted you, “Morning, Mimi.” You slowly turned onto your side to face him, your cheek smushing into the pillow under your head, “I thought you were Koo.” You murmured apologetically, leaning into his palm as he reached over and caressed along your cheek,

He was already fully dressed for the day and sitting on the edge of the bed beside you. Wearing a loose sweater that covered his hands and a pair of lounge shorts, “Morning, princess.” He smiled at you, bare skin rosy and fresh from his shower and hair falling delicately around his face, “Jungkook told me I could wake you up. He’s making something for you to eat downstairs.” Jimin chirped, “I already ate. It was really delicious.” He tapped over his stomach with his freehand, his fingertips stroking along your cheek now moving to run over your back, his adorable crooked tooth appearing as he smiled wider, “Did you have a nice sleep?” He rubbed over your back, warm palms against your bare skin starting to wake you up,

“I slept like a log.” You let out a soft giggle, rubbing your face against the pillow as you blinked away sleep, “Passed out after showering and didn’t move an inch until now.” You nodded, feeling more alert and awake now when you recollected the memories of the prior evening’s activities, “I had a lot of fun last night.” You started to smile at Jimin, beginning to sit up.

You felt the ache in your muscles as you collected the blanket draped over your naked form and hiked it from where it was wrapped around your waist to your chest now. The pain in your body was a silent reminder of how eventful your night really was. Your whole body hurt like a bitch but it was a nice hurt. It was a dull sore in your back. In your shoulders. Your chest. Your ass. Your knees and even your thighs. You felt refreshed if you had to be honest. You know the feeling of having a really good workout? That.

“What about you?” You asked, covering your body with the duvet and wrapping yourself in its softness, “Did you sleep well?”

“I slept like a baby.” Jimin began to chuckle, “But I have to get ready for my flight soon.” He grumbled as if he didn’t want to leave, “I’m going to be thinking about you guys for the entire flight.” He joked but you knew he was telling the truth, “Actually, I wanted to ask you something.” Jimin looked towards the door as if he was hoping Jungkook would come upstairs and help him through what his question. He hesitated for a moment and you quirked a brow, wanting to ask him to just spit it out, “Well…” He sighed, giving you a sheepish look, “I wanted to ask–”

“Do you wanna go with him to Japan?” Jungkook interrupted from the doorway, his smile radiating into the room from the door. He too was looking refreshed and clean. The sweaty hair that was stuck to his forehead last night was no longer there. Only soft, bouncy locks draped around his face like luscious curtains now.

Damn, how long have you been sleeping? What time was it?

“I mean, do you want us to go to Japan with him.” Jungkook was heavy on the us because even though he had let his friend have his way with you last night, he wasn’t about to just let Jimin whisk you away into his arms and disappear to a different country. No, sir. He had his fantasies, yes but this wasn’t about to turn into a regular occurrence… unless you wanted it to, of course.

You looked at Jungkook with shock on your face and then at Jimin, your head shaking in disbelief, “Wha– why?” You asked, “What are we gonna do there?” You began to question them even though you were already thinking of what outfits you needed to pack. Where were those cute sneakers Jungkook just bought you? You would definitely be needing them for all of the cute themed cafes you’d be dragging the boys to. Your mind began to wander and you almost didn’t hear Jungkook speaking as he walked further into the room,

“Eat. Drink. Sightsee.” Jungkook hummed, a steaming cup of tea in his hands as he sunk onto the bed with one knee, placing the cup down onto the nightstand next to you before he took a seat, arms wrapping around you to pull you into his warm embrace, “What else do people do in a different country, silly.” He snickered at your questions, fingers moving up to smooth your bed head away and fix the tousled locks that were sticking up around your head, “It’s a little last minute but I figured that we could use the getaway and Jimin could use the company, right?” He looked at Jimin who nodded eagerly,

“Eating ramen alone in the middle of the night just isn’t fun anymore.” Your friend drooped sadly, his puppy-kitty like eyes swallowing you up as he gave you a convincing stare, “It sure would be nice to go on a trip with my friends.”

You weighed the pros and cons in your head. Pros… it was fucking Japan. Cons… the flight was leaving tonight. You had to pack and prepare! These goofs really thought they could give you such short notice? Ah, fuck it. “I mean… it is quite lonely eating ramen alone. You have a point there.” You reached for the cup of tea Jungkook had brought you and blew on the liquid as you brought it to your lips, feeling your stomach grumble as the appetite opening smell of the herbal tea wafted to your nose, “Wait… can I eat first?” You pouted, “Okay yes, fine. Yes, but I need to go home and pack too. Fuck, where’s my passport?” You looked at Jungkook as he began to laugh, his shoulders shaking when he chuckled at you, “What?”

“Can I eat first.” He repeated after you, “That’s the first thing she asks…” He snorted, shaking his head, “Of course you can, baby.”

“And one more thing.” You gave the two of them a deadpan look after you took a sip of your tea, the two both equally looked at you with curiosity, “We do whatever we did last night again.” You nodded and both Jimin and Jungkook exchanged a glance between each other. One of disbelief. Shock and…. Interest.

“Fuck yes.” Both Jimin and Jungkook blurted at the same time, making you smile coyly.

“Who else has a free schedule?” You suddenly asked, “Maybe… someone else wants to join.” You weren’t even sure of what you were asking, hoping the two men in front of you could catch your hint, “Like you said… eating ramen alone just isn’t fun.” You gave Jimin a smile at the hidden meaning of what you were saying and Jungkook hummed out lowly,

“Namjoon said he’s free.” Your man announced, fingers tapping over his phone quickly, “Just asked him.”

“Namjoon...” You pondered his name, thinking of all the times you’ve spent with him. There weren’t many. And the ones you did remember were mostly spent in comfortable silence next to each other doing your own things while the other members were off playing games or other rowdy activities together, “Does he.. uh, like ramen?”

“Oh, he loves ramen.” Jimin nodded, “Has a big appetite for it.” He orchestrated with his hands and the three of you laughed together.

“He said he’s in. Will meet us at the airport.” Jungkook concluded, the smirk on his lips never swaying as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss against the side of your head, “Let’s go eat.” He ended the conversation there but the butterflies beginning to flutter in your stomach only started.

This might just be the start to something… amazing.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jimin x y/n #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jimin fic #jimin smut #bts fic #bts smut #smut #f/m/m #jikook x reader #jikook x you #jikook x y/n #fic

346 notes · View notes

sparklingchim · 2 years ago

Note

Drabble of Nabi calling OC mama for the first time or Nabi saying dada as her first word or maybe both if you want to

"Where are you going," Jungkook whines when you rise from the couch and free yourself from your entangled limbs.

Nabi follows your movements with her attentive doe eyes from Jungkook’s chest.

"Just getting my book from the bedroom. Wanna read a little," you explain.

While Jungkook nods, Nabi's face twists into displeasure. She fusses in his arms, petulant complaints falling from her pouting mouth. A soft smile unfurls on your face.

"Mama!" Nabi babbles in a snappy voice.

Your breath catches in your throat. The smile on your face vanishes.

Jungkook’s lips part. He stares down at Nabi, eyes wide in bafflement. "Did you just say mama, Nabi?"

"Mama," she repeats, much softer, but the tears in her eyes remain as she looks at you.

Your heart swells in your chest.

Jungkook grabbles for his phone. "I need to - I need to tell everyone. This is - my baby can talk. She is the smartest 7 month old baby."

You sit down again. Nabi visibly calms down through the proximity.

"Jungkook," you say, eyes travelling to him. "She just called me mama."

Jungkook blinks, puzzled - and presumably to hide the wetness that has gathered in his eyes. "You are her mum."

You sniff. "Yeah, but..." You don't finish the sentence. You glance at Nabi with her shiny, big eyes. She wriggles on Jungkook's chest and stretches out her chubby hands towards you.

"Mama," Nabi says, a demanding pitch to her tone.

You laugh, a little tear streaming down your cheek as you scoop up Nabi.

"I'm here," you whisper. "I won't leave you."

#she said the m word besties #smartest bebi #darly asks #anon #fic: long way home #dilf jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook drabble

840 notes · View notes

moochii-daisies · 1 month ago

Text

2015.03.

- 18+ Minors DNI

Warnings - Content Contains: Some cussing?, a little kissy reunion, brief mention of sexting but no details or NSFW content, tensions are high

Sidenotes: hahaha i actually wrote all of 2012 and up until this chapter nonstop then got stuck on this one a year ago and had to be v patient w myself until i could finish it. i'm so thankful to everyone who's read any part or chapter of the story especially after a hiatus and considering that i'm a small account. i'm gonna finish the damn thing! for myself if anything, i do love this story and it's probably a good thing that it makes me feel things. as always, thank you for reading if you do :)

Find the rest here!

--------------------------------------------------------------

"Excited to see you."

The message from Yoongi had shown up on my phone minutes ago and I found myself unable to stop staring at it.

It was the day the guy's were moving, and I was on FaceTime with Jungkook. Jimin, Tae and Jungkook were in one car together. Hobi, Namjoon, Lacey and Yoongi in another (they finally had another car with Lacey being there).

"Baaaby." Jungkook called out and I snapped out of my trance. Noticing the frown in the small square my face was in.

"Yes! Sorry, I was-" I started to explain before Jungkook cut me off.

"Thinking. Yeah, you do that a lot." He snickered, "What about?"

No point in hiding it, was there?

"Ooh, um, Yoongi just texted that he's excited to see me." I had my eyes glued to Jungkook's face, fear of his reaction taking precedence over my own feelings. Wiping me into a blank slate.

A hush fell over the car before Jungkook sat up in the backseat, raking his fingers through his hair.

"Hm. Well I'm glad he's not bein' weird." He muttered huskily, looking down as he said it.

I hurriedly tried to comfort him;

"Yeah me too."

"It'd be hella awkward if he was still mad."

"I'm glad he seems to be accepting of you and me."

Jungkook perked up at the last part, grinning like a goof and shifting his gaze from the floor to look at me again. There was almost a sigh of relief when he spoke, "Yeah, I'm glad he is too."

Jungkook turned his phone towards Tae, who was craning his neck to look at me, turning from his passenger side seat.

"Yeah, you two love-birds are kinda hard to ignore darling. Yoongi would have to work too hard to not be cool with it." The words were uncomfortable, the feelings they left stuck in my throat and filled it with lumps. He shot me an unsure boxy smile before reaching for the phone to show me Jimin.

Jimin had his hands at 10 and 2 on the steering wheel, his eyes were wide with lips puckered into a duck pout while he focused on driving.

He swiveled his head briefly to glance at me before turning back to the road, "It is what it is either way. He's gotta accept that he chose Lacey. And anyways, what's more exciting is that... WE WILL ALL BE TOGETHER AGAIN!" He paused for emphasis before yelling out the last part. His head tilted up briefly during his exclamation before snapping back down to stare at the road with giant eyes and a terrified look.

"TOGETHER AGAIN!" Tae, Jungkook and I repeated the phrase with giant smiles.

"Somebody take over for Jimin soon please, I hate seeing him so stressed." I giggled.

Jimin didn't turn his head but scowled softly, nodding in agreement.

"I'm not cut out for this."

Jungkook took over driving next, keeping me on the phone as the three of them performed songs from each of their playlists. Jungkook's was all over the map, Jimin's was full of high notes and dance songs while Tae had jazzy lo-fi RnB. I had grown up dancing and knew the most from Jimin's playlist. I tried my best not to screech as I sang along with them.

After telling Jimin why I knew so many of his songs, he asked why I'd stopped dancing. When I told him I still was, Jungkook's head twisted so fast he turned the wheel with him. The guys hollered out "woah's" and I tried to use the distraction of the moment to keep my face from falling. Dance had been the great love of my life along with writing. I'd started when I was 3, but self-consciousness had been driving a wedge between us since I turned 11. It was something I didn't want to get into, at least, not on a video call while they were in the car.

I kept my phone near me as I cleaned my room and got ready to meet them. There were still many hours to go but Yoongi's text was flashing like a check engine light behind my eyes. Sitting in front of my mirror, I swiped a mascara wand through my eyelashes, over, and over and over again. Trying to get each lash perfectly separated.

I had been working at it for at least 45 minutes, using the most minuscule clump as an excuse to keep at it. Blinking and messing up my own work repeatedly.

Yoongi and Jungkook would both be here tonight.

Together.

At the same place.

Together.

I had told Jungkook I'd kiss him in front of Yoongi and I still planned on it. But the feelings of Yoongi being close to me were jumping into memory, as if they had been freshly made. The feelings I'd been convincing myself I was over were now pumping through me with undeniable "there-ness". How my heart would pummel into my stomach. How my skin would buzz with butterfly wings from head to toe. I couldn't get those feelings out of my mind.

What if I kissed Jungkook and Yoongi got angry at me again?

What if he kissed Lacey in front of me and Jungkook saw me get upset?

What if Lacey noticed the weird energy between us and told Jungkook and tried to get him next?

What if I'm a selfish horrible asshole for wanting both of them?

Oh god, I am a selfish, horrible asshole for wanting both aren't I? Yoongi chose another and I did the same, that's something we both have to accept, isn't it? Yoongi isn't mine. He's barely even a friend right now, let alone someone to be considering as -

"You're already pretty, you don't need to do that baby." I heard Jungkook saying and I glanced down at my phone. I'd forgotten he could see me. I couldn't even remember him and Tae switching driving spots.

In an attempt to cover up my tumultuous thoughts, I struck a pose. Twisting one knee over the other and placing a hand behind my head, elbow opening up to the side.

"You think I'm pretty?" I said as coyly as I could, batting my eyelashes at him.

"The prettiest."

His response got groans from Tae and Jimin.

"Save it for when you're together. And alone. In your own room." Jimin griped out.

Jungkook and I snickered to ourselves before blushing.

And with Jimin's words came a nervousness that overrode my thoughts of Yoongi. Or, at least rivaled them.

It had been one thing to call Jungkook all the time, to send some...mature pictures and texts to each other, to jokingly broach the topic of being physical once we were together again.

Remembering the impulsive urges to lick the sweat off his neck, to keep riling him up to feel him press himself up against me, made my heartbeat drop between my legs. As I clenched them together, I was momentarily grateful for the distance.

Jungkook looked at me bashfully, tucking curly black hair behind his ear and biting his lip through his smile.

I wanted to smash my face into his dimple and hold him so tightly that my arms gave out.

"Maybe we could- um, it would be- I'd like to dance with you when we're all set at the studio. Hey! Maybe you could be Jimin's TA too!" The earnest way he spoke had me pressing my nails into one of my thighs. He was so genuinely sweet. And I couldn't understand what it was that he liked about me.

Especially with the bullshit I had going on with Yoongi.

Not once had he ever threatened to leave or forced me to chose or tried to manipulate me away from my own feelings.

He simply stayed and kept being there. Kept showing me that he cared.

An entire flock of doves fluttered their wings inside my chest at his words. Teddy bear brown eyes were perfectly rounded and his mouth was slightly open while he waited for my response. A pink tongue darted out to mess with his lip rings, a nervous habit he could never believe I noticed (he swore he only did it when nobody was paying attention).

"I love you" was dangerously close to the tip of my tongue, which would be insane, so I tried to maintain my flirty demeanor.

"I'd love to dance with ya handsome," I cooed and wiggled my fingers at him, "It'd be so fun to work together, although it might be too distracting..." I felt embarrassed of myself by the end of my sentence. He was offering to work and do something we both love together and there I was, turning it into some-

"Baby look at this." Jungkook sounded excited, and my eyes shot back to the screen.

He was doing an incredible combination of tutting, shimmying and chest popping. All movement should have been limited to his upper body but he slid back and forth across the backseat, making sound effects as he did.

"Pow! Pow!" His opened and closed a fist to mimic a heartbeat as he popped his chest behind it. Finishing with a wink and cheesy grin.

I stood up and burst into applause, shouting encore in a raised whisper to mimic a scream.

"Pretend I can wolf whistle, and that I just wolf whistled." I murmured getting Jungkook's goofy giggle as a response.

"I love you both, but if you were together with me at work I think I might throw up." Jimin piped up.

"They did want another teacher though so...keep it in mind, yeah?"

"She nodded!" Jungkook yelled up to the front seat and I heard a loud smacking sound before Jungkook feigned being in pain.

"Hurry up and get here soon." I pouted at him while he adjusted himself to lay down.

Jungkook looked at me softly before his gaze flickered to something behind the screen. A clouded expression took over his face before saying, "I'll be there soon baby. I'm gonna sleep before my next turn to drive. I'll text you when we're almost there ok?"

I'd been so spoiled by his constant desire to talk to me that him hanging up while still conscious led to a pit growing in my stomach.

I paced around my room for a few minutes, trying to figure out what the reason for it could be until my phone dinged.

"Sorry baby, Yoongi called and Jimin was giving me a look. Miss you already."

I never had to play the "what if" game for long with Jungkook, he always gave me the answer without me even having to ask.

A few hours later, he let me know that they were about 30 minutes away.

Black skinny jeans, combat boots, cropped black lacy top (that did wonders for my boobs if I may say so myself) and leather jacket on - I stumbled out of my front door, down the apartment stairs and into the family car.

There was music playing on the drive, an album by Bombay Bicycle Club on repeat the whole time. But I couldn't tell you anything else about it. The scenery outside of the car was a smeared watercolor painting and for someone who usually gets lost even with a GPS, the way there felt eerily clear despite never seeing it before. The music formed a protective bubble to carry me along, the lyrics delivering a message that I wouldn't understand until much later on.

"There's a story which in my eyes shut,

Could you back me up,

Could you back me up"

The drive took a little over half an hour, the music getting harder to hear as I got closer, the sensation in my stomach growing from a pit into a black hole. By the time I pulled up to park on the street outside of their soon to be house, remembering to breathe had turned manual, the feeling in my legs an electrifying buzz instead of anything solid.

I had beat them there thankfully, so I sat with my car running for a few minutes more. The guitar from Bombay Bicycle Club swirled around my head in ocean waves, the lyrics spiraled through my ears and wrapped up my insides as sentient vines.

"You can rearrange me now,

If we wait we can make it somehow

What you want

Anything you want" - I shut the car off before the next lyrics could begin.

"You tease this love,

You care enough".

Am I just teasing this love? This thing with JK? I do care enough. I care more than enough, these feelings are real, they are, I swear I -

I had sunk so deep into my feelings that I didn't notice a car pulling up behind me until the horn was honked, effectively scaring the crap out of me and making every muscle in my legs clench up. Stepping out of my car felt like trying to stand as a newborn deer, jello limbs fighting to support my weight. The car windows were tinted and the sun had set quickly - turning the ability to identify who was in the car into a guessing game. Was Jungkook's car the one with tinted windows? It was like I had never seen their car before. I hadn't been texting with the other car and had no idea what their ETA was, this was about the time Jungkook should be here right?

Right?

I let hope get the best of me and sucked in air as I walked towards the backseat car door, the one behind the driver's seat. Reached my hand towards the handle and flung the door open with a big, "Hey baby!" and a grin that I hoped looked genuine instead of terrified.

Lacey's confused face greeted me in return before she burst into a snicker.

"Um, hey babe! What a greeting, haha, oh my god, wait - Yoong's I'm stuck, push me out." She turned back to look at Yoongi who was out of my sight in the backseat.

I had frozen as soon as I opened the door. Keeping the grin plastered to my face as if seeing Lacey and Yoongi first wasn't eating a hole in my chest like a ravenous and carnivorous worm.

The front doors of the matte gray car opened, a yawning Namjoon and Hobi exiting from each side. They reached their arms up towards the sky as they stretched, their eyes crinkling with growing smiles as they turned to face me. In an attempt to get away from Lacey and avoid looking at Yoongi, I threw my arms around Namjoon and let out a little squeal.

"You made it safe!" I exclaimed, a sense of relief sliding down to quell the black hole that was threatening to consume me from the inside out. My arms clasped around Namjoon's waist and he wrapped his around my shoulders, the enveloping warmth of the hug rising like a force field around me. His giant chest had the same effect as a weighted blanket the moment I turned my head to press against it. Muscular arms squeezed me back into my body, while one of his thumbs stroked up and down - reassuring and soft. Just like him.

"Thanks for driving out here to welcome us home!" Namjoon spoke the words directly onto the top of my head, his mouth mussing up the top of my hair. Warm breath tingled into my scalp, down my shoulders and spine until I could feel the ground beneath my feet again. Although the grounded feeling didn't last long.

Noises from the backseat reminded me it wasn't time to relax just yet and I directed my eyes to Hobi through the gap under Namjoon's arms.

Hobi had his lanky arms stretched out towards me, beckoning me with his hands and a dimpled closed mouth smile spread across his glowing face. He had on a bucket hat, oversized hoodie and baggy jeans - with patterns that nobody else would have been able to pull off beside him.

Craning my neck, I turned to look up at Namjoon, my cheek squished against his left pec. Giant dimples and the most calming smile greeted me in response, "Go say hey to Hobes - I gotta start getting stuff out of the car." He released me from the hug, reaching one hand up to ruffle my hair before dipping down into the front seat to pop the trunk open.

Lacey had both feet out of the car and my ears were pricked by Yoongi's deep rumble of a voice. With the most intentional of intentions, I directed my gaze towards Hobi and made a beeline over to him - without Namjoon's arms around me, the ability to feel the ground disappeared, making it feel like I was floating until my arms were around Hobi's neck.

Long, slender arms wrapped around my waist and lifted me up - spinning me in a circle while Hobi let out a string of excited sound effects. We both kept giggling and the vibrations of his laugh must have been set to a healing frequency because I've never felt so light while being picked up before.

"The drive was SO long! I can't believe we're here! Tae said they'll be here in a minute. Oh my god, oh my GOD, can you believe this is finally happening??" Hobi set me down in front of him, keeping his hands around my hips as he bounced up and down.

I bounced up and down with him, trying not to press my nails into his shoulders and betray my excitement with the complex emotions lying underneath.

"I know, I know!! You made it! We can hang out again!" I bubbled back.

My brown eyes locked in to his, starting a secret and wordless conversation that went something like:

Hobi: "Are you doing okay girl? I mean, they're right there..."

Me: "Of course I'm not fucking okay! JK isn't here yet and I called Lacey babe! I can't even look at Yoongi!

Hobi: "You're gonna have to soon, and JK is almost here. Lacey is going to play nice in front of everyone don't worry, but don't give her a reason."

Me: "Ok cool thanks, yeah, that is SUPER HELPFUL HOBI!"

Hobi: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You got this! The rest of us are here don't worry!"

That did help with the worry.

At least, until I developed super-hearing as Yoongi got out of the car. Every movement he made, every sound that came from him, was like it was being fed directly into my eardrum through an amplifier. I could hear him breathe, hear the sound his hair made as it fell in front of his face when he looked down to step out of the car.

And I wasn't even looking at him.

Instead, I continued clinging onto Hobi with a vice grip while he patted my hips and gave me encouraging nods.

"1, 2, 3 - you're off!" He whispered as he pulled me in for one last squeeze. Spinning me around to face Lacey and Yoongi as soon as the countdown was over.

My heart was beating so hard, it felt like it was pumping bile back up my throat and onto my tongue. It took a moment for my eyes to focus, or maybe I didn't want them to.

But when they did, Yoongi's long black hair and round face were crystal clear, even in my peripheral vision. His dark brown eyes were laser focused on me, meltingly beautiful and with a sense of determination that didn't match the rest of his body language.

One arm was around Lacey, who stood next to him, fidgeting and with an upset look on her face. His other arm was trying to find a pocket to stuff his phone into. He could've looked down. It would've made it much easier to do if he had looked down, but he didn't. I couldn't tell you how long it was for, but he never stopped looking at me. Moments kept passing, the distance between the curb and the street continuously morphing from too close to too far away.

Why didn't he stop looking at me?

The sound of Jungkook, Jimin and Tae's car snapped us out of the trance we were in. The frown that had taken over Lacey's face dissipated, replaced with a sweet smile and syrupy voice. She turned to Yoongi, tucking hair behind his ear and kissing him on the corner of his mouth with big bambi eyes. Yoongi kept his eyes on the ground, nodding as Lacey spoke to him in a low voice. Her words jumbled together in my ears as I glanced towards the black car and saw the outlines of 3 heads, one moving considerably more than the others.

"Girl! Now that I'm out of the car finally- get over here, we missed you so much!" She waved me over, scanning my face intensely and not once looking over to see Yoongi's reaction.

But I did.

Maybe that was my first mistake. Where it all started. It couldn't be helped though - Closer? To Yoongi? Was that allowed? I hadn't even seen Jungkook yet, wouldn't that be inconsiderate? How could I touch Yoongi first? What would happen? If I touched Yoongi first? He shouldn't be first, he couldn't be. Especially not while he's standing there with someone else, touching someone else - I mean, wait - hang on -

"BABY!" Jungkook's voice bellowed out so loudly, the rest of us visibly flinched before dispersed chuckles from Namjoon, Hobi and I. Behind the driver's seat of the car that had just pulled up, the window had been rolled down - JK's dimples, inky curls and perfect roly-poly nose poked out, an arm waving at me furiously. Everything else faded away as soon as I saw him, the only thing on my mind being to get into his arms as soon as possible. I waved back with a blush before turning to excuse myself from the couple before me.

Lacey had crossed her arms with a scowl and Yoongi had turned to look up at the sky, the neighborhood - anywhere besides at what was going on around him. The space in my heart made for Yoongi pushed back against the rest, trying to expand.

It didn't last long though.

That slight falter in my chest was quickly snuffed out by the literal wind being knocked out of me.

In the moment I had turned to glance at Lacey and Yoongi, Jungkook had exited the car, running towards me at full speed before tackling me to the ground.

A big, strong hand covered the back of my head, palm pressing into skull, as the other pushed into my lower back - pressing me against his body as we fell. If the full weight of my body landing on top of him caused him any trouble, the only way he showed it was a small "ack!" the moment it happened.

Zero recovery time needed.

It felt like less than a second.

And there he was, sitting on the grass by the edge of the curb.

My handsome man. The bunny to my bunny. Mine, all mine. Who I belonged to.

With no thought at all, my legs straddled his lap, hands gliding with their own agenda up his neck so fingers could grip into thick, dark hair. One tattooed arm held me pressed against him like it was life or death if he loosened it at all. The pounding of our hearts thudded ferociously through layers of muscles, fat, skin and clothes - screaming to reach the other. His other hand held onto one of my hips, pressed down to make me sit my full weight on him and even then, I still felt weightless.

Breathless and breathing too hard, we looked at each other. Taking it all in. The feeling of each other's real flesh and blood filling up our senses, attempting to commit it all to memory.

Both of my hands released their grip from his hair to hold the sides of his face.

We were pressed so tightly against each other that I could feel his heartbeat pick up and hear the shakiness in his voice. How it betrayed the conviction of his words as he murmured, "I'm gonna kiss you in front of everyone.".

I leaned in slowly, trying not to notice the way that all of my limbs were trembling.

"Not if I kiss you first." I whispered, breaking my gaze away from the perfect shape of his mouth to look him in the eyes.

Without any hesitation, he lifted his chin to bring his lips to mine, pressing them so decidedly into a kiss that I briefly wondered if I had ever been kissed on purpose before.

My body didn't erupt with butterflies or tingles or that drop in my stomach that I'd learned to associate with desire.

Instead, I felt it opening. Like floodgates, with hunger. Welcoming him in while simultaneously wanting to consume and be consumed by him. Being so aware of where his body touched mine that every place it did felt on fire, and every place it didn't felt deprived of oxygen. Our eyes stayed closed for the most part, focused on taking in the feeling. Whenever they did open, the physical pang of desire almost hurt, banging out like a drum that reverberated through every part of our biochemical make up.

And it wasn't too much for him.

It was mutual.

It was matched.

Encouraged.

Fueled.

We were both the flame and the gasoline. Nobody could stop us, least of all each other.

I completely forgot where we were. Who was around us. That we were sitting on the curb. Or that I hadn't said hi to Jimin, Tae or Yoongi yet.

I don't remember how long we were kissing, if we were full blown making out or if anyone asked us to stop. I do, however, remember making a noise that I had never made before and the groan that came out of Jungkook that made us snap out of our lust-filled daze.

Thwack.

While Jungkook and I were sat there, recuperating and processing - Jimin had walked up and smacked him in the back of the head.

"I cannot wait for you to have your own room guys. For real. What the hell. It's not gonna be the same but come say hi to me lovely." Jimin's voice was playfully masking a command. JK fingers pressed into my hip like a release button and the realization of what we had done after looking at each other sunk in, turning us both beetroot red.

I reached my hand towards Jimin to help pull me up, the bones in my legs not yet solidified. Jungkook sprung up behind me, guiding me by the waist as I stood before mumbling some "um's" and "uh's" and heading to their car. I was too scared to turn and face the others and pulled Jimin into a hug with the best "I missed you so much!" I could muster instead.

Jimin's embrace was gentle. Like being covered with a cedar and honey scented cloud.

"I missed you too lovely. I knew he was gonna jump ya but damn. Have you said hi to everyone yet?" Jimin's voice sang into my ear with the lightest hint of criticism. The sudden awareness of Hobi's glare stung the side of my face and I winced in Jimin's arms. His responsive squeeze giving some comfort that I hadn't ruined their arrival. At least not completely.

Tae's silky voice floated over my head - a lifeline attached to a buoy that I was desperate to grab onto.

"Well, can you blame the poor dear? We've been trapped! Stuck! Relying on modern technology like it's some accommodation for the prison that is distance." The dramatic way Tae spoke broke the tension and laughter burst out of me, spurred on by Jimin's equally dramatic eye roll.

"My darling, I've missed you so. Did my letters find you well?" I drawled out, breaking away from Jimin to make my way to Tae, who promptly collapsed into my arms with the back of one hand pressed against his forehead. After a fit of nervous giggles over nearly dropping him, he stood up and flung his arms around my neck. Pressing kisses against my cheek as he rocked us side to side.

"Some nights your words were the only things keeping me warm, my poetic angel." Tae declared his sentiment with a hand under my chin, his velvet brown eyes soft and sparkling.

"Ahem, help me with the stuff T." Jungkook grumbled as he leaned against the back of the car next to the open trunk. His glare was focused on Tae's hands but melted into a puppy-eyed pout once he caught me noticing. Tae patted me on the cheek then jerked his chin up to acknowledge Yoongi and Lacey. Gently but forcefully turning me around to face them as he walked off to join Jungkook.

Lacey's arms were still crossed, the emotions that made her scowl earlier now thinly veiled with a tight lipped smile. Yoongi on the other hand, looked like he had gotten into three fist fights and told he was getting drafted since I had last looked at him. His hair had become disheveled, a blank look on his face had taken over the determined one and his broad shoulders had sunken down. Like he had been defeated.

Why did he look so defeated?

Standing there with Lacey.

As if he had been hoping- no, that's not right. As if he had been expecting? Something like that.

As if he had been expecting me to be so overwhelmed by seeing him again that I would've stopped anything from occurring with Jungkook. We both chose other people. This is the reality. This is where our actions had led us to. Was he operating under the assumption that things were different? That I was a mess without him? Like this was some Bella and Edward bullshit? Why was this making me so mad?

"Wow boo! I wish this one would greet me like that!" Lacey joked, elbowing Yoongi and breaking her crossed arms stance to walk over to me. I pushed out a laugh and stepped off the curb to come towards her, opening my arms to pull her into a hug. For a quick second, and only a quick second, she buried her face into my shoulder before pulling away. Seeking comfort. From me of all people? It didn't make any sense. At least, not until I noticed a pleading look in her eyes that was both familiar and disorienting. It was one I would grow to understand too well over the next few years.

And I think I knew the reason for that look, even back then. No matter how much I'd like to pretend otherwise. I think I knew as soon as my eyes drifted from her rounded, light hazel-green's to Yoongi's feline, nearly black ones.

There was hope in his.

Or maybe, it was a reflection of the hope I was trying to hide in mine.

Either way.

Something was there.

And the hands he had shoved into his pants pockets couldn't cover the way his arms jerked as I stepped towards him. As if to hug me. As if he wanted me in his arms. As if he knew I wanted the same.

Was it okay to hug him?

In front of Jungkook and Lacey?

In front of everybody?

I didn't think much more about it.

My arms were around him and his were around me in less than a second. Heat blooming from the place where our stomachs touched just like it did before.

He was so real.

So beautifully and painfully, real.

Like physics and atoms and the building blocks of life, this world was made to hold Yoongi just as much as this world would not exist without him.

Fingers twitched against the middle of my back and my own reflexively grabbed at his shirt, bunching it into my grip and getting closer to the warmth of his skin.

Too close.

We both jumped back, simultaneously too aware of the world around us and unable to look at anything besides each other.

I remember saying either out loud, or in my head, "Welcome home Yoongi.". But connecting my thoughts to my mouth was clogged up with sludge. It felt like I didn't need to say anything out loud anyway - he knew. I both loved and hated that he always knew.

Yoongi answered, either out loud or through the vibration connecting us that was nearly singing with electricity. His words echoed in my head and the air around us as our eyes refused to waiver from each other.

"It's good to be home," he said, "I mean, it's good to be home here. With you.".

25 notes · View notes

cinnaminyoons · 2 years ago

Text

STAR THEORY !!

!! jjk x m!reader

!! wc | 6.8k

!! tags | dilf!jk + dilf!reader (obv), non-idol au, lil age gap (jk’s 25, reader’s at least late 20s), reader lived in america for some time + reader is a chef (food comfort & domesticity i love u), reader’s children and dog are named, reader had a wife and also has a hip tattoo

[ event masterlist ]

dilf/dilf

pets are in love and so are they

“we are... incredibly close right now.”

the bedroom door bursts open.

"appa!"

it's too early for this.

"appa," she pants, little feet bouncing across the carpet until a weight begins to tug erratically at his blankets. "appa, get up, get up, there're new people!"

jungkook pulls a pillow over his head.

she puffs her cheeks out and launches herself onto his bed; she elbows him in the bony front of his leg. he groans in pain as she scrambles over his legs and grabs his pillow with both hands.

"get up, appa! i wanna go see!"

blearily, jungkook lifts his head, groping for the blinds past his bedside table. he leans uncomfortably far out into the cold of his room before he latches onto the chain and gives it a good pull.

the wooden blinds clatter up, dousing the room with pale morning light – the white bang that birthed the universe. she giggles and slides down from the bed, crawling up to the window and pressing her knuckles against the cold glass.

on the street below are a man and a little girl. another girl! she delights herself with fantasies of having a best friend – maybe they'd go play on the playground, and with their combined strength, they'll knock down the mean queen bee from the monkey bars.

they carry boxes into the neighbouring house, assisted by movers. a fridge, a mattress – they manoeuvre them through the gates leading around to the side of the house, entering through the glass sliding doors. she watches them, fascinated, as the visible kitchen begins to fill with cardboard boxes.

she cranes her neck, pressing her forehead against the glass until it stings her skin. nobody else comes through, and she knows who the hired help are because they wear bright orange shirts.

she squints at the man's left hand when he rests it against the column of the alfresco, speaking to the little girl. he's like her appa – he doesn't wear a marriage ring.

"what's so interesting?" he combs his fingers through his messy hair.

she glances over her shoulder with big brown eyes. "nobody's lived in that house for ages. d'you think they'll be nice?"

"i'm sure they are. c'mere, miri – you'll get a cold."

she skips over, lifting her arms dutifully. jungkook pulls a small pink jersey from his closet and tugs it over her head, helping her arms into the sleeves.

"where are your socks?" he asks with a groggy frown. he's always been slow to wake. "your toes will fall off."

"bam took them."

"he what?"

"bam took my socks," she says helpfully.

he sighs, rising to his feet. "okay. up we go, then."

he heaves her into his arms, settling her against his hip as he shuffles out of his bedroom and down the stairs. she's more than capable of walking on cold floors on her own – maybe it'd be a good lesson to teach about letting the dog take one's socks – but jungkook admits to himself that it's mostly for him. babies turn into children so quickly, and he finds he misses having her little warmth holding onto his shoulder.

bam meets them at the foot of the stairs, barking his good morning greeting. miri smiles and waves hello, and bam's tail wags faster as he follows them to the back door – he darts out with a bark, leaping into a run for freedom around the large yard. he shuts the door.

"right – here we are." he places her on the mat in the kitchen, in front of the sink. it protects her feet from the tiles. he feels somewhat more awake. "any requests for breakfast, miri? the fruits are still fresh – would you like some yoghurt and banana with your cereal?"

"with strawberries, too, please," she requests, watching him move towards the fruit bowl.

"how many strawberries?"

she opens her mouth. she frowns. carefully, she raises five fingers. "five."

"five? you must be hungry today," he comments, placing a banana on the chopping board next to the knife and leaning over to the fridge to fish out the tray of strawberries. he bends over. "on three. one."

he scoops her up under his arm, holding her like rolled carpet. she hums as she chooses her strawberries, placing them on the blue chopping board. she shoves a sixth in her mouth and giggles as jungkook rolls his eyes at her with a fond smile, setting her down. "go grab your cereal, okay? i'll be done in a minute."

"okay!" her cheek leaves jungkook's palm as she whisks away to a lower cupboard, taking her pick of the different cereals in easy-pour containers.

he pushes the sleeves of his sweatshirt up to his elbows. he sets to work with the knife, chopping wedges out of the tops of the strawberries and slicing them in half. beside him, miri cautiously measures out her cereal on her own red child-sized table, tipping the container a few degrees at a time to control the flow.

a thump outside. he glances up. bam stops barking.

he sets down the knife and strides over to the door, dropping the wet handtowel on the edge of the bench. he leans out into the chilly air. "bam?"

no response. jungkook slips from his indoor slides to his outdoor ones and hurries outside, worry forming a knot in his stomach. "bam, come here!" he whistles, short and sharp.

he peeks behind the bushes, where a collection of toys have gathered as bam's treasure trove. no dog.

"shit," he mutters, eyes widening as he spots the open fence door by the side of the house. he hurries through it, grabbing the edge of the door. "bam!"

a bark by his feet. he startles ten feet into the air and a curse slips out of his mouth.

kneeling on the stone path and staring up at him is a little girl in a thick purple jacket. she looks about miri's age. bam had his head resting on her legs before they were so rudely interrupted.

he swallows another bad word and softens his voice. "hey. i don't think i've seen you around here before."

she stares up at him for a moment longer, rubbing bam's ears slowly. "me and papa came here today."

"oh! you must be our new neighbours." the moving truck is gone. he glances over the fence, before lowering himself to her level. "do you know where your papa is?"

"in there." she points at the house. she says nothing more, her eyes narrowed slightly mistrustfully.

"does he know you're here? i don't want him to be worried about you. come on – i'll bring you over."

she recoils from his offered hand, hugging bam's neck. the usually active pup seems unusually calm.

"i just want to walk you over, that's all. it's cold out here, and those pebbles can't be comfy."

she glances over him, then nods with as much dignity as she can muster and rises to her booted feet, brushing off her knees. bam stands as well, and jungkook gives him a pat.

he smiles at her, discreetly pulling his sleeves down over his sleeve tattoos. they might not make the best impression of his character. "so, you moved here today? what do you think of it?"

she shrugs, following him. "it's a lot colder. but papa says he got a good job here and can take care of me."

"really? do you know what his job is?"

"he's a chef! he makes really good food. do you like carrot cake? his carrot cake is the best. you should try some."

he smiles down at her as they approach the front door. "thank you for the offer. we'll see what happens."

he raps his knuckles against the front door firmly. he wonders if it sounds too aggressive, but there's nothing he can do about it, and there's an out-of-breath man standing in front of him. a very attractive out-of-breath man.

his eyes widen as he notices the girl beside him. "anya! what are you doing out there?"

she crosses her arms, defiant. "exploring."

"i – i told you to stay inside, didn't i? anya, neither of us knows our way around! you could've gotten lost if you hadn't—"

his eyes flicker up to jungkook's. he clears his throat and the girl shuffles over the threshold, grabbing onto his pant leg and burying her face in it. "hello. i am so sorry about my daughter – really, it feels like locks just fall apart around her. thank you so much for retrieving her. i left her in the hallway for two minutes to set up her bed, and then—"

"she escaped containment?"

the man cracks a frazzled smile. "yeah, suppose you could say that. ah—i'm ln yn. this is my daughter, anya. say hi, bub."

"hi."

"jeon jungkook," he introduces, feeling rather self-conscious about his pyjamas and socks-with-slides combination. he nods towards anya with a small smile. "how old is she?"

"five, this year." you smooth down her hair with a palm. she watches bam sniff around the perimeter of the fence. "she'll be starting school here soon and she's been really excited. she's a bit of an artist, you see, and the school's renowned for its arts program."

"oh! you mean—?" he gestures down the road. you nod. he brightens. "my kid goes there, too! she's the same age as yours, but she's more interested in trying every single extracurricular sport they offer than anything they're actually famous for. my genes at work, i guess."

you smile, leaning against the doorway. you nod at the dobermann by the succulents. "and that one's yours, too, i'm guessing?"

"oh – yeah! that's bam." he turns. "bam, come here!"

he perks up, trotting over.

"sit."

he sits.

"good boy." jungkook scratches behind his ears. "i'll keep him inside the yard, so you don't have to worry about holes in your garden or anything."

you chuckle. "thanks. so, what's to like around here? in particular, anything a five-year-old would enjoy?"

"the park's a two-minute walk that way." he points behind him. "it's not that big, but it has a swing and a slide and a rope cobweb thing. there's a fireman pole, too.” he smiles. “i know it's bad enough trying to move when you're alone, so having a kid with you must be pretty rough."

you share a laugh. the girl pouts into your leg.

he tucks his knuckles into his sleeves, trying not to show how fast his heart is beating. "i could watch her while you get settled today. i-if you want! i'd bring my daughter over and they could, uh, keep each other busy."

he knows you're wary. he can see it in your eyes and the way you pull her into your side.

good. he would be, too.

"that would be wonderful," you say eventually with a small smile. "but it's quite early – i'll be here when you're, well, ready."

he glances down at himself and bursts into embarrassed flames. "ah, r-right! yeah! sure, yeah, i'll be back in an hour. it was nice meeting you," he smiles down at her, "and you as well, anya."

"you, too," you reply, and your grin makes jungkook's heart race. he wills his blush down.

"goodbye," calls anya, watching him retreat from their door. "i like your puppy!"

bam trots at jungkook's side, tongue lolling out and collar clinking. jungkook lets him into the backyard again, this time through the side door, and latches the door shut firmly after himself. he's got no idea how it came loose the first time; it might've been the wind rattling the latch.

he shrugs to himself as he returns to his kitchen. if it happens again, he'll get a proper lock.

"appa!"

she crashes into his knees. he hums and smooths down her fringe. "hello. i'm sorry for disappearing on you like that – i got worried about bam, and then i met our neighbours."

she recoils, betrayal etched all over her face. "without me?"

"i wasn't expecting to."

"but you did! you could've come tell me!" she stomps her foot, huffing. "i hate you."

"miri..."

she ignores him, stalking off to grab her stool and dropping it firmly in front of the kitchen sink. she puts her bowl inside silently and stomps past him to play with bam outside, and jungkook doesn't bother trying to get her to change out of her pyjamas.

he sighs in his empty kitchen, thunking his head backwards on his fridge. he draws a hand down his face and his mind whirls with a thousand thoughts a second, but it only sticks firmly to one.

his neighbour. his unfortunately handsome neighbour. his unfortunately handsome neighbour with an amazing laugh and lightning-strike smile.

i'm fucked.

—

after a few days, a black labrador appears out the front of your yard, chasing a yellow rope bone that it brings back to anya. jungkook's walking bam, having just dropped miri off at school, and doesn't expect to have his arm yanked off by an overexcited pet.

"bam! what's gotten into you?" he struggles against the leash, acutely aware of the other dog on the other end of bam's attention. "calm – calm down."

bam stills, panting and alert as the black lab stares back, half-poised to drop the bone at anya's feet.

jungkook loosens the leash cutting into his hand, and it's the wrong decision. bam tears off towards the other dog.

jungkook swears as the leash slices out of his grip. he stumbles after him, dread and panic slurring together for a split second – but confusion cuts through the mess as the two dogs pause, watching each other very closely.

bam barks. the labrador glances back at the house, as if to check for permission—

and drops the toy in front of bam.

it lays down, placing its head on its paws, and gnaws at the end of the bone. every so often, it glances up at bam, blinking in that sweet puppy way.

bam lays down beside it, his flamingo-coloured leash trailing over his back. both dogs' tails wag in comfortable excitement.

"hi, miri's papa."

jungkook tears his stare off the dogs. "hey, anya. where's your dad?"

"inside."

"okay. thanks." he glances at the dogs; the toy is now in bam's jaws. "uh, are you cool with watching over him? i'll be quick."

she nods, full of purpose and determination. as he reaches for the door handle, however, she raises her voice with innocent curiosity:

"do you love papa?"

the door handle shears a layer of skin off his knuckles. he chuckles uneasily, clutching it. "what? no."

she tilts her head, playing with her laces. she did them herself this morning. "really?"

"o-of course. why would i love him? more importantly, why do you think that?"

she purses her lips as if it's obvious. "you look like you love papa."

he runs his thumb over the flap of skin. no blood, but it stings.

"you sound like you love papa."

he tilts his head. "what are you talking about?"

"you make faces and your voice gets all weird when you talk to him." she turns back to the dogs, stretching her stocking-clad legs out from her seat on the driveway. she yawns until her jaw cracks. "you're just like all the other ladies who love papa. but i don't think they like me." she glances up. "you're nicer than them."

"other ladies?" he whispers to himself with a frown. slowly, he returns to her, bobbing down to sit next to her. she stares up at him with big eyes, expectant. "anya, if i may... what happened to your mother? it's okay if you don't want to answer."

she shrugs, kicking her feet. "i don't know. i live with papa now. i like it better this way – he doesn't get angry at me like she did, and he makes better food." she rubs her nose. "they fought a lot before we moved. papa pretends like they didn't, but i know they did. i could hear them."

"yeah?" jungkook says quietly. "was that back in america?"

she nods, playing with the blades of grass. she peels them in half, drops them in a pile on the concrete, then picks another one and does the same. "mhm. they decided we'd live with papa."

"huh." he pauses and tilts his head. "wait, 'we'?"

"anya! dad's done, are you hungry?"

a girl leans out the front door. she's older, wearing braids, and her familiar eyes snap to jungkook's with abrupt alarm. she slips into the shoes by the door and hurries over, grabbing anya by the shoulder and pulling her away. "who are you?"

anya whines, wriggling out of her grip. "this is mister jungkook! he loves papa."

he stands too quickly; the older girl steps back. "no. no, i don't, anya. i'm just a friend – i live right there."

"uh-huh," says the older girl, putting anya's hand in her own. "let's go, okay? dad's waiting."

"papa made carrot cake," anya insists. "you should come!"

"you can't just invite strangers—"

"but papa knows him—"

"doesn't matter, i don't know him—"

a new voice, familiar and gentle. "girls, everything alright?"

jungkook turns with a leap of his heart. you wear jeans and a grey v-neck sweater rolled up at the sleeves to reveal the stiff cuffs of a white dress shirt. the collar pokes out over the sweater.

you're dressed like any other man on the street, some form of business casual, but jungkook's heart acts as if he's seen you naked. he'd love to. god, he'd love to. would you like him?

focus!

"good morning," he greets, dusting off his black joggers. "how goes things?"

you glance over him and he covers his bare biceps self-consciously. your lips quirk up. "hey, jungkook. things are great. i see you've met ellie."

"ellie," he repeats. he gives her a small, sheepish smile and offers a hand. "hi. i'm sorry for worrying you. maybe we can make amends?"

she glances down at his hand. her eyes flicker to you, and after receiving a certain look, she sighs and begrudgingly takes his hand, giving it a firmer-than-necessary shake. "yeah, sure. whatever."

she pulls anya into the house with her and you give her another look – this one meaning we'll talk later – before heading out to the driveway to speak with jungkook.

"i'm sorry about her," you huff. "twelve-year-olds..."

"don't worry about it. her heart's in the right place," jungkook hums, glancing up at you with a soft smile. his hands have taken much of his attention. "so, two?"

"yeah. she just arrived last night – i promise she isn't usually so grumpy." you jerk your head towards the house with a grin, hands in your pockets. "i heard them arguing about you. if you think my decision holds more weight than theirs, you're welcome to come in. i made carrot cake – my own personal recipe, tried-and-tested with the kids." you wink. "you know it's good when children willingly eat vegetables. any allergies?"

"i'd love to," he replies, his cheeks warmer than usual. "and no, i don't."

your smile widens, blindingly bright. you turn to the dogs and pat your thigh, reaching out for the labrador that trots over with an excited bounce. "you can bring bam in, too. they seem to get along – no reason to break them apart, right?"

"are you sure? bam's pretty easily excited, and he's a lot bigger than he thinks he is."

"hey." you take his hands, stopping him from picking obsessively at the cuticles. it's a bad habit he can't seem to shake. "we've had callus since he was ten weeks old. i know exactly what you're talking about, and my offer still stands."

"callus?" he asks, his brain too full of the thought of your warmth to do much else.

you roll your eyes fondly. "i hate the name, but ellie chose it and trained him to it, so it's stuck ever since. so – you coming in, or are you just gonna hold my hands for the next hour?"

"what?" he says. oh, fuck, you've loosened your grip but he hasn't. he's holding your hands. he's still holding them. he drops them. "a-ah, i'll come in!"

you laugh, and jungkook's heart squeezes tight in a red fist as he follows you to the front door. "alright, jungkook. don't tell the girls, but i'll give you a bigger piece of cake, okay? it'll be our secret."

"okay," jungkook breathes, and feels like a teenager all over again.

however, he might have forgotten to factor in the feelings of a certain five-year-old girl.

"you saw them again!"

"i know, i'm sorry," jungkook pleads, "but you were at school! hey, look, i even saved you some of yn's cake, alright? it's really good. he invited us – both of us – over to his place tomorrow. you can meet him and his daughters, and have a lunch better than i could ever make. how about it?"

miri pouts, kicking her feet on the couch. her schoolbag sits by the end of the sofa. "fine."

"oh, good," he sighs, relieved.

"but," she raises a finger, "you can't fall in love with him."

he whips around faster than light. "you, too? why am i not allowed to?"

"you're not allowed to be his wife."

"i'm a man, miri. it doesn't work like that."

"yes, it does."

"it doesn't."

"it does," she insists, "ellie said—!"

she slaps a hand over her mouth and falls backwards on the sofa.

jungkook pauses, his hands hovering over a cucumber on the chopping board. very carefully, he continues slicing long ovals out of it. he asks calmly, "have you met each other before?"

"no." she sits up, long black hair falling over her shoulders. "only to play with the dogs..."

"then you shouldn't be so upset that i did the same thing, right? does yn know you played with his daughters?"

miri, with as much gravitas as a five-year-old can muster, replies: "no."

he shakes his head with a huff of laughter, using the back of the knife to scrape the cucumber in a container. "alright. is that where you found this rumour? did they tell you?"

"appa, it's not a rumour if it's true," she argues, rising to her feet on the sofa. she leans forward against the backrest. "i've seen it with my own eyes! you talk about him like – like – not a friend! i never saw you talk about anybody else that way."

"uh-huh. and what do you know about being in love, miri? what does ellie know? she's twelve, and you've only just learnt how to tie your hair in a ponytail. very messily. no standing on the couch."

she falls back behind the edge of the backrest with a huff, vanishing from jungkook's sight. "you'd be a bad wife."

he carves the store-bought roast chicken, sawing through the thighs and shaving smaller slices off the body. he digs through the breast to stab at the herbed stuffing. a lock of hair falls loose from his low ponytail and he tosses his head to get it out of his eyes. "do i dare ask why?"

he's terribly competitive – whether it's a good or bad trait, he doesn't know. while he may never be a wife, being called bad at something – by his own blood, no less! – sets fire to something he tried to bury back in university.

"because you're mean and not funny and never wake up before twelve o'clock."

he gapes, putting down his serrated knife to scoff at the couch. "i am funny, thank you very much. why should you never eat a clock?"

"um, because it's made of metal and plastic?" miri answers.

"it's time-consuming," he snickers.

her head pops up over the backrest, pinched into a frown. "that isn't funny, appa."

"you don't appreciate my effort, miri. i'm hurt."

"you know who would, though?" her gaze intensifies. she points through the walls to the house to their left with the neat lawn. "he would. which makes it even worse, because then you'll love each other, and then i'll have to hear two bad jokes instead of one. it'll be in – in – insuff'rable. i learnt that word today, did you know?"

"it's 'insufferable', miri."

"you proved it! you're mean. anyway, ellie said she'd hate it if you and her appa got together."

out of protectiveness? or something learnt and cruel?

miri disappears behind the sofa again only to reappear beside it, moving towards the kitchen and leaning against jungkook's left leg.

"appa, it smells really good."

jungkook grabs a set of chopsticks and hooks out a chunk of meat. he crouches and offers the meat, holding a hand beneath her small chin to catch anything that doesn't make it to home base. nothing falls, and he draws away.

"here," jungkook murmurs. "can you set the table, please?"

"mhm."

she skips off with the cutlery in hand. jungkook carries the large bowl with the carcass and places it in the middle of the dining table, petting miri's hair on the way back to the kitchen.

he's always worried about how others perceive him. always. he's twenty-five with a school-aged kid and no mother in sight, and he makes fucking video games for a living – he's not even something respectable, like a doctor. at the very least, he could've been a nine-to-fiver, a suit amongst identical suits, and with that, his image would be inoffensive.

but video games? being a concept artist, an animator? for even a big triple-a kind of company, it's not a great reputation to kick off with: he draws colourful lines and makes things move. even though he earns a salary comfortable enough to keep his little family afloat, his name is one of hundreds as an optional post-credits roll, and it's not on the first page.

still, the way you beamed at his mumbled description of his job... it made things a little lighter to bear.

"come eat up, bub," he says. "maybe you'll entertain the idea of my future marriage once you realise how boring my dinners are."

—

pacific rim rumbles through the sound system. rather surprisingly, neither of the five-year-olds mind its big, scary battles. jungkook chalks up miri's fascination with the robots and monsters with a general nonchalance towards violence and gore. she watched train to busan when she was three – which was not jungkook's fault; she wasn't supposed to be awake and sitting spookily in the darkness on the stairs – and shrugged off most of the blood and guts as simply fake.

he should have been paying more attention to his surroundings than his laptop screen and the accident he'd sired in motionbuilder, he realises now, but a good consequence is that miri avoids frozen and its brethren like the plague. he doesn't think he'll be able to keep his sanity if he hears any movie three times consecutively.

ellie plays animal crossing on the switch, cross-legged between you and jungkook with her head against your shoulder. a leopard-print blanket wraps around her shoulders and pools in her lap. every time something explodes or crashes, she glances up, fixated for a moment, before returning to her village.

miri and anya are fast asleep on jungkook's thigh. another blanket, this one blue with thin pink stripes, covers them both, and jungkook's arm lays gently across their shoulders. he'd turned the volume right down for them and the two dogs cuddling in the labrador's bed, though his 5.1.4 speaker setup retains enough boom in the subwoofer to keep him immersed.

eventually, ellie's body droops, and the switch falls from her hands into her lap as her hair flops across her face. three quarters into the movie, you gently take her into your arms and tuck her into bed, and jungkook watches over the remaining two, tucking a silky lock of hair behind miri's ear. his leg is going numb and the tingling is growing uncomfortable, but he'll be damned if he wakes them.

you return. there's a pop-art picture of a sea dragon made of sushi on your shirt, and jungkook smiles at the sight. you slip your arms beneath anya's body and she shivers as the blanket slips off, curling deeper into your chest.

"today's been tiring for them all," you murmur as jungkook scoops miri up in the blanket. "they'll be knocked clear out until tomorrow."

the two will share a bed for the night, and they'd been gleefully planning their sleepover itinerary the entire day, whispering to each other about staying up past their bedtimes to chat about everything. you press a kiss to anya's forehead, brushing her hair off her cheek, and jungkook tucks miri's wrapped-up body beneath the duvet.

you shut the door with a quiet click. it feels final, as if you've signed a legal form, and when your gaze flickers over to jungkook, you find him already staring back with an unreadable expression, a mess of emotions warring over his doe-like features. it smooths over a split second after your eyes meet.

you tilt your head towards the kitchen with a smile. "still awake? i can break out some bourbon. i also have some red wine, if that's more your style."

"i'll take the wine, if it's not too much trouble," he replies softly. "i've already had a drink tonight and i have work in the morning."

"of course." with the girls asleep, you're free to do as you wish. you take his hand in your own, and his breath hitches. your thumb brushes over his jawline. "i'll steal a glass as well."

jungkook likes to pretend he has everything under control. his heart, however, is under a different jurisdiction, and you prod it with your smile and warm touch until it quivers, naked and bare.

then, you are gone. his pulse pounds hotly in his ears as he shuffles after you, almost afraid of what he might spill under the wine.

he'll only have a glass, he promises himself. nothing will come of it.

"i wanted to tell you this before, but we had company. your pyjamas are cute," you tell him as you set down his glass, holding the newly-opened wine bottle in the other hand. you gesture to his inked arms. "and those are gorgeous."

"thank you," he murmurs, taking the stem between his fingers. he rubs his thumb over the swell of the glass and tucks his feet behind the barstool's legs. "you ever looking to get something done?"

a smile tugs at your lips. "i already have."

his eyes widen behind the glass. he sets it down, trying to keep his prying gaze discreet. "really? what of?"

"it's here."

to his scandalised pleasure, you grab your shirt and the waistband of your sweatpants, pulling them apart to reveal a curved tattoo along your hipbone. his starved gaze roams the exposed skin, the sliver of stomach and the dangerously-low slant of your pants.

he burns with painful desire. it stings at the back of his eyes, and his back teeth grind down on nothing as he swallows harshly, lifting a hand casually to his face to hide it.

"'s pretty," he rasps, clearing his throat. his knuckles whiten around the wine glass. "when did you get it?"

"as soon as i was old enough. i was always a romantic, you see," you joke, letting go of your clothes. they fall back into place and he mourns the loss. at least he has a new fantasy to bookmark. "i thought it was cute, and she liked it, so i kept it."

she.

jungkook's heart tumbles to the pit of his stomach at the reminder of what he is – and what he isn't. he chugs the wine and chases the buzz of intoxication.

"you don't... really talk about before," he says quietly. "i-i mean, it's personal, why would you? we met last month—"

"it's been the best month of the last few years," you interrupt, filling his glass again. you reach up to bring down one for yourself and he leans forward, his mouth dry as he catches a slit of skin as your shirt rides up.

it's almost funny how desperate he is.

"y-yeah?"

"yeah." you set the glass on the bench, opposite jungkook. you reach for his hand and he watches with bated breath as you link your fingers lazily with his. "moving has always been a hard experience, especially with those two troublemakers to keep an eye on, and you've been amazing to me – to us – all this time. jungkook, you made it easy to fall into a routine i enjoy."

"oh." he grips your fingers. "so... her, huh? are the kids hers?"

"yep."

"were you ever married?"

"for a while."

it pops out before he can stop it. "what happened?"

"okay..." you offer him a tight smile, unlinking your fingers to fill your glass higher than it's supposed to be.

last page, the end. that part of you will not be touched again.

"i'm sorry, yn-ssi—"

"'hyung'," you interrupt. "you can call me 'hyung', jungkook. our dogs are in love – i'd like to think we're closer than those formalities."

he nods, a little uncertain. it shows in his eyes, flitting about your kitchen as if searching for the nearest door. "if you think so, hyung."

you smile, and this one is looser, easy to enjoy. "better. what about you – would you ever think of finding someone?"

he laughs breathily, briefly pressing the back of his thumb to his lower lip. "ah, well. you know how it is. i've got miri to worry about."

"and a girlfriend wouldn't adore her, too? that spells trouble."

his mouth twitches in some semblance of a smile, small and wry. "i hear that's your biggest problem. anya mentioned that you're pretty popular, but that she's a deterrent."

you sigh, rounding the bench and taking a seat near him at the dining table. you rest an arm over the back of the chair. "what can you do, right? there's nothing to be done except wait and hope that the perfect one will come along sooner or later. other friends always tell me that i don't need anyone, that i'm doing really well."

you rub the back of your neck, and jungkook follows the tendons leading down past your collar. you smile up at him, warmer than usual. "but i've always been selfish."

"it wouldn't only be a girlfriend," jungkook says suddenly. he grabs the bottle of wine and tops up his glass far more than a single standard drink. "i'm, uh, you know... kind of into everyone. but i'm loyal. if there's one thing that i am, that's it."

"would you like to go on record with that for the company's diversity initiative?"

he turns, and you grin a little dorkily back at him, a wine-touched buzz in your veins. he rolls his eyes and huffs a laugh, raising his glass. "sure, if it gets me someone nice to talk to. fuck, i can't remember the last time i just... went to a bar and didn't give a shit. let loose." he sighs. "i was terrible in university – god, it physically pains me. i've known miri since she was a baby, but sometimes i wonder if she was the only one, you know?"

you reach out and push his thigh with a chuckle. "hey, no frowning; it's bad for your skin. it's not good to dwell on possibles, jungkook. you have miri. you have me. those are certainties. agonising over what might be does nothing for anyone."

as he turns on the stool, his tongue runs over his lower lip. he grips the seat between his thighs, one knee bouncing. "but what if—"

"jungkook, the more you stress over it, the less you're present with miri. she's a sweet girl – please don't neglect her for uncertainties."

your hands cup his, reassuring and warm, as you pull your chair in. his head bobs in a small, slow nod.

"i guess you're right," he mumbles. "hey, hyung... were you always a chef?"

you laugh. "no. i had ellie when i was pretty young and i jumped from job to job for some time. i made decks for a while – carpentry. did other contract jobs. i only went to culinary school a few years ago when i had the funds for it."

"how did you know?" he asks softly. "how did you know it was all gonna be okay?"

you shrug. "i didn't. i just took it one day at a time, one week at a time, one month at a time, and eventually, i got here." you rest your chin over his knuckles and hum, gazing up at him. "don't think. just do. you'll be alright, jungkook. my door is never closed to you, even if you just want to drink all my wine and eat all my cereal."

he laughs, barely more than a soft giggle. "thanks, hyung. that... actually made me feel better, weirdly enough."

"good. i don't like seeing you upset." you squeeze his hands. "you're looking rather pink. you should slow down with the wine."

he glances at his empty glass and the nearly-empty bottle. he can't remember drinking so much. his cheeks are hot. "yeah. yeah, i probably should." he begins to rise. "sorry for—"

your arms wrap firmly around his waist as he stumbles. he blinks harshly, his horizons tilting dangerously.

"did you spike that?" he jokes half-heartedly. "shit, i'm regressing to a lightweight..."

"you drank three-quarters of the bottle in the time it takes me to have a shower. that's called being an idiot, not a lightweight."

your palm cups his cheek. it's cool and soothing against jungkook's burning skin, and it burns hotter when he realises he can feel your heartbeat through his own ribs. his traitorous hands are already placed on your sides.

"we are... incredibly close right now," he whispers.

your eyes flicker down to his lips, pink and parted. "i don’t mind."

you take the point of his chin between your thumb and forefinger, tilting his head up from his flushed downcast gaze. his hands hover over your ribs, his own cracking with the force of his heart, and he slides them over your chest to grasp the back of your neck, his thumbs stroking the slope of your jawline.

"jungkook," you murmur against his warm lips, "we should do this tomorrow. when your mind's clearer."

"tomorrow i might not do anything. i'm a coward, hyung. please... just once? so i can remember what it's like?"

he leans in again, and you don't stop him. his lips mould with yours, the sweet, dark flavour zinged with a slight bitterness. he hums softly as your arms tighten around his slender waist.

when you finally part, you're both gasping for air, and jungkook offers a giddy smile.

"man," he pants, "that's a lot more fun than i remember."

"i think you just have to find the right person to do it with." you laugh quietly and he drops his head onto your shoulder, hiding his blush.

"would you be mine?" he asks, allowing a fleck of hope to plague his voice. "would you be my boyfriend, yn-hyung?"

you brush a lock of his hair out of his eyes. "ask me again tomorrow. i want to be sure you'll remember what you've done – it'd be pretty awkward if you forgot and i came up and kissed you."

he huffs. "i'm not that drunk – look, i'm a little tipsy. maybe a bit more than tipsy. whatever the case, i'm not gonna forget this." he runs his tongue over his lower lip slowly, as if to savour something. "i'll ask again in the morning – with one condition."

you tilt your head, eyes gentle. "and what might that be?"

"a goodnight kiss. doesn't have to be on the lips, but it would be nice—"

you shut him up. he melts into it, tilting his head to deepen it, and he presses his whole body into yours, as if he can open up your skin and step inside, as close as close allows.

here is someone who understands him – here is his heart, here are his lungs, here is the flesh and bone that forms love. he loves love, and the carrot cake that love cuts for him, and the peaceful sleeping puppies resting their heads on each others' backs in love's living room.

he kisses you again, and his touch is the blinding supernova of a promise.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x male reader #jeon jungkook x male reader #jungkook x reader #bts x male reader #bts x reader #kpop x male reader #x male reader #male reader #m!reader #i want so badly to watch tlou if u cant tell #bonus points if you can tell who the 5yos are named after #1k event

657 notes · View notes

ditttiii · 2 years ago

Text

i am writing a sad sad sad i think eventual happy oneshot with jk and it may maynot be hurting me in real time

spoilers under cut if curious xx:’)xx

xxxx

You see the way he laughs carelessly from a distance, watch how he throws his head back, an arm rising to casually sling around the neck of the woman beside. Your feet are rooted to where you stand, like a vine grown from the soil hidden beneath the marble flooring that has come out just to hold you down. Stop you from making a fool of yourself, say something bad, or worse–too nice.

At eighteen you had thought time would heal all your wounds, help you move on. The unflinching tick of a clock would force you to heal, make your hollow heart full, piece by every cracked piece. The cruel irony lay there though. The pieces he left behind in his wake no longer fit as they used to. The edges are all jagged and worn, and no matter how hard you try to fix them, align them a million different ways, they no longer fit. There are gaps, spaces of who you used to be that he took with him when he forced you to leave him and you’re still hurt, still so so angry at him. For cheating on you, for loving someone else, for snatching your soul from within you until all that was left was a hollow shell of a teenage girl too lost to find her way.

If you could, you would change every feeling, find a way for space to be the thing that you needed, find the half of you that he took with him and sew it tight to what was left behind. He’s still smiling, still oblivious to how happy he is; how unhappy you are and you want to hate him.

You want to look at him and feel disgust, horror, disappointment but all that fills your twenty-two year old self is a sense of loss. Like losing a cherished childhood trinket handed down by someone who’s no longer to see you wear it.

The lights are dim but not low enough for you not to be able to make him out. He has grown taller, by a head and then some. Where there was once lean sinewy muscle now sits a bulky frame and the shirt he’s wearing does nothing to hide it. The woman beside him tilts her head, rests it on his shoulder in a move so casual it pierces your heart in one clean swipe. There’s a familiarity there that you are envious of until there’s bile in your throat, burning, burning and you’re making a mad dash for the restroom. Pushing past people without apologising because you are afraid you’ll throw up if you open your mouth.

Falling to your knees, you ignore the hurt, the sting of the cold tiles against your knees and retch. It’s pathetic, the sight of your tears mixing with your saliva and your eyes clenching shut in a vain attempt to keep them at bay. You can’t. Not today. Not in front of him.

It blurs, the sight of him with the woman today and the memory of him in bed with your best friend until it leaves your head spinning. Betrayed and hurting all over again.

#untitled as of yet andd unedited #but hello to hurtsville and some cathartic to come smut #fEELIngggggss #fuck with oc & jk i m sorry this is gonna be painful but i ll leave them happy i think #im not even sad why do i want them to be hurt #its the damn sex #PENT up feels sex is the best kind how could i not #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #junkook angst

22 notes · View notes

sweetiereads · 2 years ago

Text

@kpopfanfictrash,

Mafia Au's are a guilty pleasure of mine. I am guilty as charged.

I enjoyed this fic so so much. I just binged read this entire thing within a couple of days or so. When I probably should have been focused on my studies, lmao. But I am not mad about it I really enjoyed it a lot!! Ugh I just love how you pace your stories, it allows for the characters to come alive, while us reader are just there for the ride. The world building is always so great, and this story was no exception!

Thank you so much for sharing your writing with us for years. I really appreciate your stories.

with love,

sana

Blackjack (Master List)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jungkook

Rating: 18 + (explicit sex, violence)

Genre: Mafia!AU

Status: Complete

Description: Bangtan is one of the most vicious mafias on the west coast. Only six members are known by name though, with a mysterious seventh member dubbed only as ‘the shadow.’ When you become indebted to the worst of the worst – how, exactly can you find a way out?

[ cross-posted to Wattpad here ]

Keep reading

#m: jungkook #mafia au #bts x reader #series #g: smut #g: action #strangers to lovers

15K notes · View notes

taegularities · 4 months ago

Text

meraki | jjk (m)

MERAKI (v., Greek). "to do something with soul, creativity, or love; to put something of yourself in your work." Summary: Jungkook finds you irritating; far too energetic and insistent. But his perception of you changes bit by bit, minute by minute, when he's persuaded into spending an entire night with you at places he doesn't know.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: e2l, grumpy!jk (+ photographer!jk) x sunshine!reader; fluff, smut ➳ warnings: bickering, bantering, jk is a bit rude at the beginning, flirting, tension, oc is bold and courageous, mention of someone being stoned, mention of insomnia, jk's lip rings <3, heights, not exactly e2l but more like "i find you pretty annoying" to lovers lmao, deep talks and sweet moments, one bed trope, guest appearance, jk takes pictures of pretty things, stars and sky talk <3, explicit sexual content: kissing/making out, implied pain kink? lol, fingering, manhandling, oral (f. & m. receiving), teasing, 69, spitting, one or two spanks, bit of choking, soft and hard sex, unprotected sex (oc has an iud), soft dom!jk but also glimpses of sub!jk, ofc biiiig dick!jk, doggy/riding/missionary, praises, more flirting, jk's godly body, masturbation, cum swallowing (he comes in her mouth); the lovely ending <3 ➳ word count: 26.6k <3 ➳ a/n: you guys built this fic!! 🥺 hopefully this is what we expected it to be. it's also yet another love letter to one of the gentlest men i know; happy birthday, jeon jungkook, you're the standard and i will never fall out of love with you 💕 i hope y'all enjoy it!! come and talk to me when you're done mwah <3

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST | WIPs

1:04AM, Her

There’s a word for how you do what you do.

A term you hold dearly in the crevices of your bright heart. Ever since you first learned its meaning two decades ago, you’ve made it your primary goal to breathe through life with it as your philosophy.

Passion, it is. A word certainly common in conversation and daily life — you’re not the only person to live by it. Doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to wallow in it.

Because there’s a fire behind your hard-working chest, lit up, pride residing next to it. It’s where you feel the most vivid light when you do what you love, blooming and blossoming. There are synonyms of it you know, and each of them are pretty as a growing garden.

You gatekeep them for now; haven’t yet found a person to share your knowledge with. Which is okay; in the meantime, you’ll keep looking. You do think everybody needs something like this in their lives.

Something that forces your body upright, sprinkling fairy dust and glimmer into your eyes. Something you can resort to in order to escape the trials of life.

For you, as odd it may seem to people, it’s your job.

You usually work late like today, surrounded by sounds and disquiet. But you enjoy it. You like stepping into the night afterwards, and you like the dark blanket above, the starlight sprinkled across the comforting blackness.

And you like it when it drizzles sometimes. The giggles of couples or groups of friends as they wade through the rain. The absolute quiet and relieving serenity.

You live for this. You enjoy people. You enjoy sensing life around you.

Tonight isn’t different. Even when you find yourself hastening by the end, wrapping up the event with a dozen chores to tackle; even when the host rushes to you, asking for help. Your shoes click-clack across the floor as you move left and right, up and down.

But by God, you never doubt these days’ worth.

1:04AM, Him

Sometimes, people don’t want to be photographed.

Jungkook learned that early on when he agreed to be a photographer at events. He’s encouraged and urged to ask people to pose; that’s his job. Waiting for them to force a smile before they can resume eating, debone their fish or work on their lobsters, beef, veggies.

They long to return to whatever they were doing, or to their conversations, mostly insignificant ones; Jungkook knows because he, involuntarily, hears too many of them.

It’s only when they’re dancing or drinking that they open up. That’s when they’re okay with listening to him, obedient, almost as if he’s authority, staring into the lens with flushed cheeks and wide grins.

Though it’s irritating when every other person walks up to him afterwards, inquiring when they’d be receiving the photos, or, even ruder, if at all.

Today, there are a few more comfortable people around. Not as harsh, not as grim as he feels. You’re here, too, somewhere; of course you are — you got him here in the first place. Somehow, your paths often cross. You were ready for a picture immediately, drawn in by the host, smiling.

He perceived your presence just for a second, though. Doesn’t need or want any more than that. You’re too loud, too energetic anyway; he’s rather among himself, not in any photo, indulging in the job.

He loves clicking through his camera roll; it’s the people that tire him out. Working his way through the pictures he took once home gives him joy, though. Makes his fatigue feel worth it.

But God, you’re not the only one, right? So many people here are the same amount of enthusiastic, party people to the core.

Which is why he’s happy when the night finally concludes, and he, far after midnight, stuffs his equipment back into his bag and slips into his at least somewhat chic blazer.

1:12AM, Her

You groan as your hand dives into your bag, fishing out the key that you already removed from your keychain an hour ago. Back when the man facing you approached you; he’s the last face you see when you step out of the somewhat stuffy hall.

Or so you think.

You don’t know that the night is far from over when you linger at the entrance, handing him a key that he encloses in his grip with a grateful nod and a goodbye-wave. The final interaction when you excuse yourself, breathing in the night.

It’s a hunch cooler than when you left home today; yet, the breeze feels pleasant caressing your skin. The end of August is still warm, still fairly far from fall; you regard summer nights as the best part of the season.

Sighing, you come to a halt in the middle of the pavement, studying the alley. You ponder until you remember a bus not too far from here; you need to turn left, right? Should be there. You have never been around here before, so you’re not entirely sure.

But you’ll just go with your first instinct for now. Keep walking until you detect any kind of a promising sign. You hold onto your roomy bag as you pass the rare people still around.

Some of them are faces you recognise from the party; some are strangers. One couple you spoke to just earlier even lifts a thumbs up for you, praising you for the exceptional organisation. They make you feel at ease until the road quietens.

And the place stays serene and silent until you hear the clearing of somebody’s throat. It’s not near; yet not far. Your eyes scan the area, not for long when they recognise a figure sitting on the opposite side of the narrow street.

It’s a man, clutching a heavy object with careful hands. A camera, you know it immediately. He’s hunting through the pictures he took, face slightly lit by the screen. Jutting lower lip, slowly blinking eyes.

Simple attire — dark jeans, a white shirt, and a blazer on top that hides the wide shoulders.

Constantly and undeniably handsome, albeit always grim due to the lack of a smile.

You squint to confirm it’s him you’re seeing; but when he smacks his lips in the dark of the night, nibbling at the shiny lip rings, you know you’re right. This is a habit you’ve never seen on anybody this persistently as on Jeon Jungkook.

And the one and only Jeon Jungkook must be feeling your eyes on him, because only a second later, he lifts his gaze. Instinctively, you wave a little, but Jungkook isn’t on board with your hospitality. He rolls his eyes; you don’t take it to heart, though. You’re used to this.

As he starts stuffing the camera back into his bag, you waddle over, crossing the street. Upon reaching him, you ask, “Got some good pictures tonight?”

“I’d guess so.”

His voice is as nonchalant as always, his shoulders relaxed, uncaring. To your vampire-novel-reading middle school self, he would’ve been the coolest and most mysterious riddle, waiting to be cracked. But you know how he feels about you, and that makes the situation just a little less intriguing.

Yet, you never stopped approaching him, because aside from conversations like these, you know he’s just human, too. He smiles at events whenever he gets the chance, content with the moments he captures; he likes what he does.

Photography has always been his thing; or that’s what you gathered, at least. You see the same sparkle in his eyes that you feel in yours when you work; the same joy when he fumbles with his camera, always checking, presumably changing the settings, testing it out.

You lean in a little, wondering, “Can I see?”

“Uhm…” He hesitates, lifting the strap of the camera bag higher up his shoulder. “Do you have to?”

“If I may. I brought you here, remember?”

Of course. It’s always you; you’re the one to organise this, and you’ve seen his pieces and albums before. He might not hang around you too much, always the first to tell you he has somewhere else to be, but you know he’s good. You trust him in this regard.

“You say that every time,” he argues, a tattooed hand settling on his bag, clearly reluctant.

So you click your tongue, waving your suggestion off. You try to sound as lively as ever, but your voice is more earnest as you say, “Okay, it’s fine. Don’t show me the pictures, but come on. Be a bit nice at least.

“Alright. What else? Do you need something?”

You sigh in defeat. “No. I was just going home.”

“You should go home. It’s pretty late.”

“Aren’t you going, too?”

“I am,” he responds, his voice going up at the end. “I just wanted a bit of peace before leaving.”

“Peace,” you repeat, as if trying out the word. “You can’t get it at home?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer this time. Instead, he only shifts his stare from you to the empty road ahead, exhaling a dramatically long breath before he gets into motion. You immediately react, by his side until he asks, “Are you following me?”

“Huh? Did you forget that I was literally heading this way?” He’s distracted, looking for the street signs, and you laugh at his own confusion. “Do you even know where you’re going?”

“I guess so.”

Okay, at least he’s honest, not giving himself airs. You want to see what his inner compass suggests, but then somewhat shun the thought of walking further into unknown terrain.

So you question, “You taking the bus?”

“Nope. Subway.”

“Ah. That should be this way, then,” you nod towards the direction you’re approaching, “I know the bus is, because that’s where I need to go.”

“…Are you sure?”

“Yep.”

That’s it. He doesn’t respond much; only lets out the millionth sigh, following you with something you might nearly call trust. He doesn’t attempt small talk or any other kind of interaction, so you let him sink into his thoughts.

But a beat of silence later, you still ask politely, “How did you like the party?”

“Uhhh, it was okay.” For the first time in minutes, he looks at you. “The people were weird, don’t you think? But I got some good shots in.”

“Hmm… okay. I didn’t notice anything weird about the people.” You shrug your shoulders. “Talking about shots… did you drink a little?”

He whines your name as the question is a tale as old as time, complaining, “Every single time? Why is this so important to you…” He waits, shakes his head. “No, I didn’t. Seems you did, though.”

“A little,” you say, bringing your forefinger and thumb together, indicating a tiny space. “But I’m all sober and well.” Another brief pause. “Are you okay, too?”

He licks his lower lip, dimples appearing that don’t ever need a smile to emerge. Then, he throws back, “Why shouldn’t I be?”

“Dunno. You always look so bored at parties. And you always go home alone.”

You don’t know if the following laugh is sarcastic or not, but you soon discover the very answer when he lifts a finger and counts, “First off, how would you know?” Another finger added to the mix. “Secondly, I’m not bored. I’m just focused. And I don’t know anybody there.”

His hand drops again, working on his bag’s strap again. Pushing it over his shoulder. He adds, “It’s a bit different for me than for you because they’re literally your clients and you know them at least a little.”

“I mean… you know me.”

“Yeah, but you’re…” He regards you from head to toe, not the softest of expressions, and you pout. You don’t ever take him seriously, but he can be hurtful sometimes. “I just don’t think we’d be good conversation partners.”

“Weird,” you challenge, “because you’re conversing with me right now, no problem. It’s also not my fault you always argue with me at every event.”

“I don’t. You approach me.”

“You do.” You lean your face closer to his, not making it very far when his palm pushes your cheek, and you, away from him. “Ugh. Okay. Seriously, though — why do you always leave alone?”

He exhales in defeat. Seems that Jeon Jungkook is too tired to take your idiocy tonight. You understand, but you’re just trying to figure out how to convince him that you’re normal, too. That he just dislikes you because you’re different from him, and nothing else.

“Hey…” he utters, out of energy.

“I mean it,” you still declare, “there are so many sweet and nice girls around. They ask about you sometimes, you know? I’ve also met many men on such pa—”

“That’s great,” he interrupts, a palm stopping you from spilling more info, “but… I don’t think I’m interested.”

“Oh.” The syllable is short, cut, harmless. That is, until it clicks in your brain, and your eyes widen, lips parting as you turn to him in shock, stating, “Oh, wait. Do you… play for the other team?”

Jungkook blinks at you. Then lowers his gaze, turning it a couple shades darker, staring at you from under his eyelids. He looks annoyed when he spits, “No, I’m not gay. And even if I was, it’d be none of your business.”

Shit.

Okay, you were sure about your assumption, but now that it turned out wrong, this sounds pretty shitty. And annoying. And awkward.

“Sorry,” you apologise, and he gives you a taunting head tilt. “Okay… different topic then? Tell me, what do you think of this dress?” You lift the hem a little, smiling; you were convinced the moment you first saw it. “Do you think I look pretty today?”

For a second, he joins; his initial gaze is still cynical, but his voice is appealing, a whisper when he leans in and asks, “Why? Do you want to be the one I go home with?”

Ah… why do the words, the way he speaks them, tickle you just right? You’re flabbergasted, seeing your reaction on the bare skin of your arms, but all he does is back away again and once again, shake his head.

You want to retort something snarky back, but you don’t get to it when he inquires a moment later again, “Are you sure we’re going the right way?”

Right… you need to go home. You forgot.

“Uh… yeah.” You look around, finally detecting a sign, picturing a bus and a number. “There’s the bus, so the subway should be…” You stop; hum; then see two women waiting at the bus stop. “Should we ask someone?”

“Sure.”

With a nod, you separate from him, walking towards the bus station bench they’re sitting on, hands folded, conversing quietly. They’re surprised when they see a figure advance, but relax when they catch your smile.

You ask the questions floating in your brain, trying to explain where you live, what you need. They attempt an answer, gesture around, and barely a minute later, you’re thanking them and leaving again.

Jungkook stands there in anticipation, waiting for you to deliver good news — yet confused when you return with slumped shoulders instead of an enthusiastic, “We were right! Come!”

Okay, there aren’t too many reasons for Jungkook to dislike you; you want to say this much. But when you see him understand that this is going nowhere, you do get his frustration.

Especially as you kiss your lips, staring at him like a lost bunny, and explain, “So… the subway isn’t here.” Big eyes meet yours. “I’m not sure where it is, and they,” your thumb points to the girls behind you, “couldn’t help because they’re tourists.”

“Ah. Great,” he says, delivering a falsely cheerful smile. Hands thrown into the air. “So we’re stranded and should definitely not be here. What about the bus? Where does it go?”

“Uhm…” You scratch your head. “Not where I need to go. It’s a different one. But!” Immediately, your voice rises, trying to approach this with hope. It’s not the end of the world, after all! “Don’t worry! We’ll get home either way.”

“Just a lot later than necessary.”

“But nothing’s lost yet. Don’t you trust me?”

And — much as you thought — Jungkook only ogles back in silence, blinking once again before he walks away with a curse on his lips.

1:25AM, Her

You catch up to him fast.

“It’s not that big of a deal, I promise!” you vow, but you reckon it only makes matters worse.

Because he breathes air through his nose, like a bull, arguing, “I’m tired, though. This is wasting so much of my time. You always do.”

You stop in your tracks. He doesn’t. You sulk, “That was mean.”

“And you’re idiotic.”

“Well… shit.”

This time you tilt your head, grinding your teeth; less out of anger, more out of embarrassment. You don’t respond much else, and he doesn’t throw another insult. Instead, he opens the bag again with the velcro’s ripping sound, heaving out his SLR.

You peek over his shoulder, confused about the timing to indulge in a passion, and ask, “What are you doing with that?”

“Looking through them,” he mutters, thumb working on the switching button, “maybe I took a picture when I came here. A sign where to find the subway.”

His reasoning elicits a sudden laugh out of you, probably unfounded to him, but very amusing to you. He throws a bewildered and somewhat warning look, and you immediately silence; still holding yourself back when he turns away again.

You wait, listen to the quiet of the night. He doesn’t seem to find any success, and the more time passes, the funnier you find his mind. Eventually, you step next to him and give up, telling him, “Hey. Don't be so tetchy. I'm not that bad.”

Jungkook side-eyes you, tapping the screen of the heavy Sony A9 Alpha. Inhaling the pleasant late summer air, he defends, “I'm never tetchy! But you got us lost.”

“So? You’re being dramatic. There's still Google Maps.”

That’s it. This look of his.

Jungkook must’ve gotten stuck in a decade you’ve long left, because he stares at you dumbfounded, camera still firmly in his hands. He tongues his cheek, blinks.

And then, you mock, “Guess I’m not the only idiot here, right?”

His next breath is deep, and he soon averts your eyes again. You dig, “What? If anything, then low battery might be your only excuse, you know?”

He doesn’t look at you, and you break into a grin again. Shake your head. Then fish out your phone at last, ready to type in the goal, or at least, to search the nearest subway and bus that fit your demands.

Hmmm, okay. If you need to go where you think you need to go, then the subway will really be in immediate distance to the bus. So you’ll be heading in the same direction anyway.

You open your mouth to ask for his address, prepared to type it in — but as you look at him again, you detect a deeply focused Jungkook, pursing his lips at his camera and regarding it with glitter in his eyes. You see it even from here, the sparkle.

Maybe he’s waiting for you to deliver a conclusion, because you catch him moving through older pictures in the meantime. From here, you only see glimpses. Of forests and roads, and then of waterfalls. Even some of him and his friends.

He doesn’t notice it, but his eyebrows are much more relaxed now, expression not quite as steely anymore; and his lips even twitch for a tiny second, tempted to smile. As if he forgot where he’s currently standing.

You let your arms sink, both hands holding your phone, and just gaze for a while. Then move your eyes to the side. To the sky. Remember places you’ve seen and loved in this town. Still hear his harsh tone echoing in your ears.

In hindsight, you really don’t think you've ever personally hurt or offended him. He might’ve been annoyed by something else. Perhaps he was dealing with something that he never dared to speak about; or perhaps, his perception of optimism is warped, because he clearly doesn’t wade through life with it.

You’d like to see his real self, though. The real self, because your gut feeling whispers to you that this isn’t him. Maybe there’s a kind and kindred soul hidden somewhere; maybe his smile proves far more intriguing to you than these mysterious moods of his. Once it appears, that is.

But…

He’ll probably say no. Your idea isn’t dumb, you’re certain, but he very likely will not go with it. But you want to try. Want to show him that you’re not as bad, that he can trust you; want to know what burdens him; or why he talks to you like this.

You might be the only one to wish for more time with somebody who wants to avoid you like the plague.

Yet…

You don’t want this to end just yet.

So you drop a suggestion that surprise even you—

“…You know what? Let’s try something fun tonight.”

“Excuse me?”

He voices it with his attention only half on you, not quite taking you seriously; so you swallow to dampen your throat and speak firmer, suggesting, “You need to trust me on this, though.”

This time, he does look at you. Works on stuffing his camera back into his bag, opening his mouth to retort something, but you stop him with a shushing finger that he doesn’t look too happy about.

“Hold on, okay?” you exclaim. “Listen. Are you busy tomorrow?”

“Uh… not until the afternoon.”

“So you can sleep in.”

“I guess.”

You clap once, loudly and dramatically, watching the man in front of you flinch. You can’t say if he’s irritated, shocked or terrified of you. But he looks hilarious like this, blinking, scowling as his fingers clutch his bag tighter.

“What is it?” he asks as if you’ve lost your mind.

“Look. Let’s not leave yet. Fuck Google Maps,” you suggest, and his eyes grow wider by the second, baffled, as if you’re caging him. “Let me show you pretty places until the sun comes up, and if you still hate me by then, I will never talk to you again. Isn’t this tempting?”

In your head, it is. Not for yourself, but for him. In your mind, he thinks of you as a constant nuisance that stands in his way, hopping around like an overhyped puppy.

Or not. Maybe he has a dog at home; maybe he regards you as worse than cute puppies.

Whatever.

You look at him expectantly, like your persisting stare could help him land a decision. Instead, however, he grimaces, his voice higher when he asks, “What even are you sa—”

No, you won’t give up yet; even if the recurring interruptions make him tear his hair out. You click your tongue and then argue, “Come on! Give it a try.”

Hesitation. Or rather, a question wondering if you’re crazy. Clear rejection. Are you losing?

“We’d be together, so nothing to fear,” you try further, “and how much time is there till sunrise?” You glance at your watch. “It’s barely half past one. The sun comes up in less than five hours. And like, I know it sounds like a lot, but if you give me some time, I’ll give you reasons to smile.”

He keeps looking at you in this questioning, are-you-fully-mad-manner, but you’re absolutely serious and you need him to know. You bat your eyelashes a little, offering your best laugh, and add, “Like this? If you really want to hate me after that, then okay. If not, then… maybe we could go get coffee someday.”

You’ve spoken enough. He raises a hand, quieting you down, and then finally says it.

“You must be crazy.”

“I am,” you confirm.

“You think I’d do this, huh?”

“…Maaaybe?”

“No.”

Jungkook’s answer is stone cold and direct, and it shuts you up with a near-wince. There’s a faint line between his thick eyebrows, lips pressed together; he looks dangerous and very, very mean.

So you don’t say much for another minute, following when he walks away. You side-eye him, notice him type his destination into his phone. Surrendering, you trudge the path he chooses, soon detecting signs leading to the subway.

He can’t say anything to your presence by his side. Even if his answer remains a steadfast, boring no, you’ll have to go in this direction anyway.

More than halfway through, you venture into a conversation again, “Have you ever tried anything like this before?”

“What? The nonsense you suggested?” he asks, and you nod, catching up with his long legs, slightly slower with your heels. “No. I don’t think I need to.”

“You’re so… don’t you ever try anything new?”

“I mean, is this your definition of something new?” He gestures at your surroundings haphazardly. “Going through town in the middle of the night instead of getting some decent sleep?”

You shrug your shoulders, defending, “It’s not like I do it every day. And nothing one can do every day anyway. That's why I want you to try it.” Your voice is soft, friendly. “But you don’t have to.”

He doesn’t answer; only comes to a halt when a bus stop nears, peeking up to the sign with the number before he asks, “That yours?” You hum in confirmation. “Okay. Will you get home well? It’s late.”

“Yeah, of course,” you pout, kicking off a tiny stone with your shoe, “done it a few times.”

He stalls. You don’t know why, but you’re sure he does. You notice it in his slow movements, the brief pause, the way he looks to the subway he needs to approach and then back to you. You smile when his eyes linger on you for a moment too long, and then he tilts his head, sighs.

“Alright. Then… good night.”

And that’s it.

You tell him to sleep well in return, earning a tiny nod, and then he’s leaving you stranded, walking away. Your eyes stay on him until he’s out of sight, down the escalator to the subway and far, far away from the fun idea you conjured.

You mimic his sigh. Take the two or three steps to the bench under the bus stop; and then you wait.

At this time, public transport operates irregularly, so you’re not surprised when you’re still there minutes later. For a while, you remain alone — that is, until a stranger tumbles to you, swaying before he takes a seat on the other edge of the bench.

You don’t look at him; don’t want his attention on you. But to your discomfort, he garbles just a second later, “This the bus to…”

He gets a hiccup, pointing to the bus sign, and then mumbles the name of the station he needs to reach. You don’t understand, however, so you prod, “What?”

Slower now yet similarly slurred, he repeats his question, but this time, you understand and nod your head yes. He overshares, “It’s just that I’m drunk, so I need to be sure. Sorry for interrupting.”

Suddenly, you feel kind of sorry for him. Your shoulders relax; you observe him letting his arms dangle between his legs, sniffling, incredibly exhausted, it seems. What did the fella experience tonight?

You respond, “It’s okay. It’s really late. Get home well.”

“Thanks. You’re very nice.”

The same finger previously signalling to the sign now points at you; but he doesn’t touch you. In fact, his digits are still a good distance away, already falling when you feel a hand on your elbow out of the blue; you nearly react on intuition, getting into position to break somebody’s nose.

But when your eyes meet the other man’s, you recognise him as the same figure standing tall that abandoned you a couple minutes ago. His hand is still grasping the camera bag strap, and he looks calm, confident when he speaks—

“All good? Sorry, I left for too long, right? Let’s go.”

Your voice changes, a chuckle hidden in it when you blurt, “What?”

“You wanted to take a walk.”

And just like that, the snicker dies again. Is he being serious? It seems so; it’s the whole package, even. The nod towards an entirely different direction and the sudden fingers around your wrist, pulling you away.

“Uhm…” you start, feet moving automatically. You turn to the guy drowning in inebriation, leaving a last, “Good luck!” as you wave, smile. Then, to Jungkook, “I thought you went away. Did you want to do this after all?”

You’re cocking an eyebrow, but much at the back of Jungkook’s head, so he doesn’t see. But it seems he hears the tease in your voice, because half-annoyed, half-argumentative, he explains, “No. Just wanted to be a gentleman. I was going to leave the moment you got on the bus.”

Ah. So he was waiting, hiding somewhere? But you don’t mention it; it’d probably just rile him up more.

Yet, you challenge, “You’re lying. You were concerned and you thought my idea was fun after all.”

“Whatever you say,” he says, waving the white flag, probably just to shut you up, “don’t know if I can do this until sunrise, but I can walk with you for a bit. Get you closer to home. And I swear!”

Now he turns, shooting a stare at you over his shoulders, lightning bolts in the middle of his pupils, “If you’re lying and there’s literally nothing special on our way, I’m actually never talking to you again.”

Nothing easier than that.

“Deal!”

“Cool,” he so nonchalantly remarks, finally letting go of your arm, “which way are you heading then?”

“North-east.”

“Good. Works for me.”

The sun is nowhere near up yet; of course not. It’s 1:37AM. Around four and a half hours.

You’re hopeful. In your head, you imagine an uplifted demeanour in no time; try to guess what his smile might look like. A genuine one. Maybe sweet? Maybe cocky? You’ll find out. You will.

So you straighten your stance, clear your throat, sigh a content breath, and step into the night with the courage the stars lend you.

2:13AM, Her

The first almost forty minutes of your night pass leisurely.

Jungkook’s initial sighs cease soon as you advance into the town, walking down a busy main street. You guess the bustling area, the sounds of the traffic and the lights of the flashing cars relieve him somehow. Give him an excuse to not talk to you.

But as the occupied road ends and you reach and pass a crowded square, you’re back in calm and serene alleys. Some people are still wandering around, passing closed shops, much like you.

You attempt conversation every now and then, and Jungkook, having eventually realised that he needs to cooperate with you — he agreed to your idea after all — isn’t as mad anymore.

At some point, he breathes in the late summer breeze, and your head swerves into his direction immediately — maybe the magic of the night has finally reached his core, too. Perhaps he’s appreciating the journey you set out to embark on.

You, for one, cherish the quiet; you know at least this much. The alley must be part of the older corner of the town because the lampposts seem Victorian. They’re fancy, bent at the top, the light a comforting golden.

You do admire the beauty in the dead of night, you do — but the weirdly bruising feeling on your skin becomes uncomfortably apparent the more you walk. Your heels and the Achilles tendons ache, the ball of your feet sensitive to each step.

For a while, you hide the stupid pain successfully, not wanting the night to end; and you do love the heels. Feel just the way those old romcom’s protagonists probably felt, strutting through town with a man whose life they’d change.

But as an involuntary groan slips out of you, Jungkook’s view changes from the old buildings to your struggling self. His eyes settle on your contorted expression before they move further down to your sudden limp.

He asks, “You good?”

“Yeah, yeah! Just been walking for a while, is all.”

“Hmm,” he hums, regarding your heels with a suspicious look. “Do they hurt?”

“Nah. I’m used to them.”

“…Oookay.”

He drags the word, as if in disbelief; and you can’t lie your way through the minutes when the ache worsens, the suddenly paved path too much of a chore. You nearly trip when your heel gets caught between the stones.

Jungkook immediately reacts when you hiss; you’re nowhere near actually falling, but his arms still reflexively jolt, the camera bag swaying and hitting your hand when he catches your shoulders.

“Okay, seriously,” he spits, eyes wide, “that’s enough. You can’t walk in these.”

“I can!”

“Not!” He takes a look around, inspecting the place; it’s quiet here, not too many cars driving by at all. So he points to the edge of the pedestrian zone, instructing, “Sit down there. Let’s see.”

See what?

You blink, but oblige. His pointing finger is dominant, and his eyes urging; you flatten your dress, taking a seat at the edge. The road isn’t high, so it’s a little uncomfortable; but you’re pleasantly surprised when he appears in front of you, crouching.

Very, very baffled when he requests, “Can you take them off?”

“Sure,” you say, unbuckling the straps around your ankles before removing the shoes. You sigh; you must admit, it does feel great. “I’m honestly okay, though.”

Jungkook doesn’t respond, ignores your statement; instead, asks, “May I?”

You don’t understand what he means until his hands come to a float right over your toes; he wants to check for bruises, doesn’t he? You nod curtly; something about this warms your chest. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this side of him before.

Not that you ever had the chance to.

He doesn’t really hate you, does he?

Carefully, his fingers reach for your ankle. The touch is warm and pleasant; doesn’t hurt until he moves his thumbs to your heel. Your feet are overworked; you notice. But rather than the annoying pain, you can’t help but focus on your view.

The big, round nose, hiding the plump, parted lips. His eyes look hooded from here, strands of his hair covering them. Intrusive thoughts plead for your fingers to card through the dark mane; it looks soft, pretty.

And the gentleness he handles your skin with fills you with fondness; you like being cared for.

Even when he shakes his head; pulling you out of your daydream. You take a breath, and then inquire, “You don’t have a problem with touching feet?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “It’s just feet. Besides,” he stops for a second, detecting something at the back of your foot, shaking his head, “Mom used to work as a nurse. Tough job. I massaged hers sometimes.”

Ah… a loving son, a family person. You smile.

“And I thought you have a foot kink,” you tease.

“Shut up.”

“Found anything?”

“Yeah actually. Do you know how wounded your skin is here? Were you wearing new shoes?”

You gulp with a thin-lipped smile, wondering if he’ll kill you now if you tell him. You look to some random spot on your right before you admit, “Yes.”

“God, you…” He clicks his tongue. Puts your foot on the ground cautiously, reaching for his bag. He rummages through it until he pulls out a bandage, holding it in front of you. “You’re lucky.”

You chuckle, relieved and flattered. “I guess I am.”

He puffs out a laugh, but stops it right away, calling your name under his breath before he says, “God, you’re crazy. Be careful. And admit it when you’re hurt. Why didn’t you?”

Well… you didn’t want the night to end—

“I…”

You hesitate.

He works on your other foot just the same, a tender thumb running over your ankle, probably used to the soothing touch. It distracts you. And when he stops and you don’t answer, he puts his arm on his angled leg, staring up at you in anticipation.

“Yes?” he prods.

“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think you’d care.” Nonchalantly yet pouting, you nibble at your lower lip. “And if I’d told you they’re hurting, you might’ve suggested ending the night.”

He cocks an eyebrow as if agreeing to the most self-explanatory statement ever, nodding as he confirms, “Damn right I would’ve. We should end the night right now if you can’t walk. Not in these, at least.”

Your chest is hot, your stomach twisting a little. Jungkook really does bother; if not due to a connection he shares with you, then simply because he cares for people. Never, you have never experienced him like this before.

With a tilt of your head and a batting of your eyelashes, you suggest, “And if I was barefoot?”

Which he reacts to with a roll of his eyes. “The night isn’t that warm. Don’t do this to yourself. The ground’s dirty, too.”

You take a look at the dark grey pavement upon his argument, much as if the night could allow you to detect any of the dirt he speaks of. Once more, you hum, pretending to contemplate what to do; and when you pick up your heels, suggesting to follow your idea either way, the back of his hand gives your knee the lightest of hits.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Watch.”

He does. Watches you place your spacious, black bag on your lap, opening the zip. Observes as your hand dips in, pulling out one pair of sneakers and replacing them with your treacherous heels. He keeps ogling when you put them on, mouth widening bit by bit.

He doesn’t speak until you’re done, socks picked out of the shoes, pulled over your feet, laces tied. You keep smiling, content with the moment, only dropping the grin when you see his puzzled expression.

“What?” you question.

“You had them with you and… Why didn’t you say so sooner?”

Your answer comes without hesitation; whatever timidity he elicited a moment ago slowly fades again. You clear your throat, back to who you are, and dauntlessly admit, “It was sweet. How you took care of me, I mean. I didn’t think you ever would.”

“But you could’ve at least worn them sooner and avoided the hurt?!”

“Well, it didn’t hurt then…”

“You’re…”

Jungkook uprights himself, towering above you. You put a flat palm onto the pavement, wanting to heave yourself up, but soon see a hand in front of your face. He’s offering it; and you’re quick to take it.

Warm and soft; gentle.

As he pulls you up, you land closer to his body than calculated; his face isn’t too far from yours… much nearer than it has ever been. He leans back; looks to the side; blinks. Clears his throat. Lets go off your hand way too late.

The breath you held escapes in a sudden blow. You swallow.

And when you’ve processed the strange moment, you feel the change in your stance. You’re standing taller now; your feet feel heavenly in your Nikes. Dusting off the front of your dress and your ass, you wait for him to say something.

But he keeps standing there on the road, in the middle of a parking space, hands on his hips. He’s judging you; you understand. Your mindset isn’t for everybody. You might seem crazy, alright.

Yet, he doesn’t scold you again. The up and down of his irked voice doesn’t appear this time when he speaks again; instead, his chin nods towards your legs, and he questions, “So you just carry around shoes with you?”

“I need to,” you say, matter-of-factly, “I can’t ride the motorcycle in heels. And!” Jungkook’s mouth opens, but you’re quick to explain. “Before you ask. No, I didn’t hide my bike anywhere. It needs some fixing, so my co-worker took it because he knows someone who’ll do it. And because he owes me a favour.”

“Right… how unfortunate.” He pauses; runs his tatted digits through the hair you longed to touch minutes ago. They look so silky, it makes you sick. His eyes settle on you, intrigued before he adds, “So, you have a bike, huh?”

“Yeah… why?”

“No reason. I do, too.”

“Mmmh,” you voice, nodding to the road ahead to suggest moving. He follows, trudging next to you again. “You didn’t use it today?”

“No…” He pats the camera bag. “Didn’t want to harm my equipment.”

You hum approvingly, fingers entangling in front of your body. You inch closer to his arm, nudging his shoulder with yours before you flash a sugary smile and say, “Thank you. For caring even a little, you know? Even if you’re always like that, it’s nice to see you like this for once.”

“I’m usually like this,” is what he, however, merely answers, accompanied by air quotes.

But you know you’ve gotten through to him at least a little. Melted bits of the frozen parts of his heart that feel so vexed by you on other nights. In truth, you think, there’s nothing but a delicate organ pumping behind his ribcage.

He’s not a robot; Jeon Jungkook is undeniably humane. If anything, then more than most people you have ever met.

And it shows when he looks away, barely able to hide his smile. You see it even from here — that the gesture does something to his eyes. Nearly squints them shut, makes them smaller, more joyful.

You inhale, proud of yourself. Watch as he toys with his lip rings before he asks eventually, “What do you mean owing you a favour, by the way?”

He sounds almost offended. You think he’ll ask about that favour, reprimand you for giving away your bike tonight of all nights. Tell you off for dragging him here, doing something big enough to entrust an entire motorcycle to somebody.

But instead, he continues with a question you never foresaw, “Are you in a quarrel with them? Am I not your arch-enemy?”

You burst into laughter immediately, covering your mouth as the other palm touches his arm. There’s a bulging bicep under his blazer, but you’ll focus on that later.

Right now, you’re fairly occupied by the satisfied eyes; he doesn’t really expect an answer. He wanted to make you laugh… Why does that set something loose in your brain?

“Oh… are you jealous? What if I told you it’s somebody else who occupies my mind at night and not you?” you wonder, wiggling your eyebrows.

“Don’t do this to me. I’ll find your co-worker and fight them for your enemyship. Word of honour.”

“It’s enmity. And stop flirting with me,” you tell him, moving towards him again, shoulder hitting shoulder. “Or is it something else with arch-enemies?”

This time, he doesn’t veil his grin. It’s bright, pretty, reminiscent of the light shed on you underneath the lampposts. And his pupils; whenever you see them clearly enough, you recognise the sky in them. Borrowed stars inside.

You shake your head a second later, winding down from your fit of laughter, and tell him, “You’re not my arch-enemy. Arch-enemies don’t exist, and you know you aren’t one. You just…” You stall, your voice quieter now. “You just regard me as one.”

He throws you an indecipherable look. Hints of joking, shreds of seriousness, you think. His gaze drifts back to the path again, regarding a passing group of three friends briefly. His hands slide into the pockets of his jacket, and he sniffles once before he utters—

“No, I don't.”

Ah. Ah.

Why do your eyebrows relax the way they do? And your shoulders; already in ease, yet they seem to fall in relief. You peer at him wordlessly; he doesn’t demand an answer, fully aware you’re looking at him.

And you don’t ask what you’ve been to him ever since he saw you at the first party probably a year ago; what irked him, what delighted him. If he thought about you at all.

Instead, you look at the neon words in the next street, asking, “Are you hungry?”

2:19AM, Him

You’re irritating to the core.

You always have been. But he’d be lying if he didn’t admit you amused him a little. No matter how much you’ve been wasting his time, you allowed a smile in this ill-lit night. Nobody else at the party did — so in some sense, you’ve already won, and somehow, he’s even grateful.

Grateful that you’re optimistic about the world at least. Glad that you suggested fetching food. Endeared by the way you thanked him for his care. Surprised that you ride a motorcycle! Relieved that you have good humour.

Even though his own humour and smile dissipate after you enter one of the few open stores still providing late night snacks. The girl behind the counter looks tired, but straightens a little when the two of you flash a polite smile.

She greets with a sweet, “Hi!” but Jungkook sees the lethargy in her drooping eyes immediately. Poor girl.

But you’re as enthusiastic as ever; maybe a little more now, maybe observing the same as him. You put your hands on the counter like a child — the image is somewhat cute. But what comes out of your mouth is not.

“Uhm… Could I have a portion of cheese tteokbokki, please? And then… A half and half corndog for my husband.”

Your… what now?

Excuse me?

Jungkook throws an immediate and scorching look your way, utterly surprised. When you meet his eyes, his thick eyebrows are closer than anybody’s ever seen. He huffs your suggestion away, and then corrects, “I’m not her husband. And I’ll take the chicken wrap.”

You chuckle, leaning into him, shielding your mouth with a hand as you warn, “They’re not usually very good at this store. Trust me.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

Right. He does. After the disaster of finding the damn bus and the deception caused by your shoes, he won’t trust you very easily anymore. His opinion clearly differs from yours, so he’ll bank on his gut feeling.

Satisfied when you shrug, as if to indicate, “If you say so,” he walks over to the window seats with you in tow, looking out to the peaceful streets. Once seated, he turns towards you, peering until you notice and ask far too purely, “What?”

“Not even your boyfriend, no… Jumped straight to making me your husband, huh?”

The lift of your shoulders brushes his concerns aside; your eyes are incredibly innocent and even somehow playful when you say, “I thought it’d be fun.”

“Was it really?”

“Well, your reaction was funny, at least.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes in disbelief. You’re courageous, he must admit. Social anxiety must fear you — is that how you live life? Unabashed, spirited, not a sheer care for anything that won’t actually hurt you.

He doesn’t know if you’re insane or if he’s jealous.

But he still reiterates, “You’re crazy. And it was embarrassing.”

“I mean,” you say, moving on your chair, folding your fingers on top of the counter but still looking at him, “it was embarrassing because you made it. It’s honestly whatever.” You blow a raspberry, and then take a swing again, “Why is it awkward anyway? We’ll never be here together again.”

He whispers a hushed, “Thankfully,” and you tap the counter with a click of your tongue. He gets it; you live differently. That’s fine. As long as you don’t pull him into your mischief, it’s fine.

Right?

He’s right, isn’t he? He knows that in his personal opinion he is; yet, he can’t help but feel that sting, suddenly deeming himself as boring. You’re never bored, are you?

Anyway…

“Even if you do something like this again,” he tells you, “at least tell me.”

“I mean, that would kinda prevent your genuine reactions from happening, but… if it makes you happy.” You grin at him, and he scoffs; wants to say something before the girl calls for you. “Food is ready.”

A couple seconds later, the two of you have settled back into place; at the sight of the snack, Jungkook salivates. He didn’t realise how hungry he actually was. The buzz and fuzz of a party makes one forget such an essential thing fast.

Or maybe, he was just immersed in his work.

The chicken smells good, at least. Or are these your tteokbokki? He can’t quite discern the scent right now; his mind is fogged by his appetite. Silently, he unwraps his food, swallowing before he digs into the wrap.

So far, so good… seems edible. He keeps chewing; swallows some more. But as the taste starts to sink in and he realises the sogginess of the wrap, the lack of proper sauces and the dryness as well as the blandness of the chicken…

He pauses. Where… are the flavours?

Slowing down, he glances at his meal. Inspects it as if he’s holding an entirely new recipe in his hands. A look of realisation creeps upon his face, unaware of your gaze, and he soon hears an amused snicker from the side.

You don’t say much when your eyes align. Only, “And?”

He knows he’s already lost when his expression changes, cringing; when he can’t answer right away, only gaping at you in confusion. Still thinking about where this recipe went wrong.

He answers, “It’s fine…”

But you catch his obvious lie; he sees it in the way you smile so devilishly. Cocking an eyebrow, enjoying another bite of your snack without ever averting your eyes. Then, you put the tiny wooden fork back into the dish, propping your cheek on your fist.

You wait; he doesn’t know what for. For him to eat again? Maybe; because you soon ask, “Do you want something else?”

“Nah.” His answer is instant this time. “I can do this. I’m an omnivore.”

“Ah, yeah. An omnivore friend right here.” You laugh, curious when he takes another bite. And then, “Jungkook, it’s okay to admit…”

But he won’t listen. Only makes a disapproving sound, stuffing his mouth with another horrendous bite. Shit; he can’t confess that you were right. That you were actually right this time.

Suddenly, he’s craving a cup of ramyeon.

But he should keep eating. Wash it down with his drink, empty the soda. And he’s almost halfway through when he notices a movement from your direction, like you’re playing with your food.

Only, he realises that you are not; rather separating the tteokbokki in two halves before shoving the porcelain dish towards him. He shakes his head, but you persist, “Take it, man.”

It does look good…

But… are you going to use the satisfaction his defeat may give you? Probably. But fuck… Fuck it.

Reluctantly, he lets the wrap fall onto the small plate, gulping down the remainder of what he just bit off, and then, accepts your generosity with a nod. And… whether it’s because of the disappointment the wrap brought or the late hunger…

Jungkook thinks he’s levitating above clouds, floating towards the sun.

It’s good. Very damn good.

And when you ask again this time, “Should we get another?” his nod comes promptly, chest risen in satisfaction as he states, “That’d be great.”

“Alright. Be right back.”

“Nah,” he says, lifting an arm as if to protect you. Mid-action, you halt, sliding back up onto your seat. “Stay here. I’ll get it… All good.”

So he does; enjoys the look of surprise when his other hand even carries dessert, four pieces of matcha mochi ice cream. He says, “This is for you.”

You gasp. He can’t deny that it’s sweet — the elation, the big eyes, the palms coming together in delight. How you look between the food and him, suddenly wiggling your feet.

“You seem to like it,” he notes, and you nod feverishly, telling him that, “Yes! Been craving it since we came in. Thank you!”

“Oh. You should’ve told me earlier! We could’ve gotten it. No worries.”

“It’s okay. I wanted to see if my dessert stomach still allowed anything. Didn’t disappoint me today.”

Jungkook gets to his own tteokbokki, halving it in the middle the way you did, pushing it towards you. It’s weird to think about it like this, but — considering how long the two of you have known each other, you might almost look like… friends.

And you don’t feel quite like an enemy either. You’re even… kind of nice. Friendly; harmless.

“I’m glad,” Jungkook responds, only looking towards the entrance when another group of three friends, two girls, a guy, enter. Then back to you, “Sorry. You were right. This,” he points to the poor, sad wrap, “was shit.”

“See? My first instinct almost never lies. And I know this store from other places… the wraps are never good.”

“Sure, but… your first instinct isn’t always right, though, is it? You did get us lost, so it was wrong at least once.”

“Hm… was it, though?”

Jungkook regards you in confusion as you put another piece on your tongue, working on the chewy thing as he asks, “What do you mean? We had no clue where we w—”

“Yeah, I mean. I agree. But… I don’t think it was that wrong. Because—”

You lick your lips clean off the tteokbokki sauce, smacking them. You look child-like, but pretty when you indulge in your element, uncaring about everything, just living. Maybe it’s not that bad that you’re bold.

And maybe, just maybe, he can power through this night easily after all; especially if you keep saying things that soothe his chest, things like—

“Because my first instinct brought me to you.”

2:49AM, Him

The temperatures are falling as the night proceeds, and the second portion of the mochi ice cream adds to the pleasant chill.

Jungkook wonders how you’re doing; your dress is skimpier than his jeans, and your arms bare. But your stance and your speech are still inconspicuous, skin free of goosebumps, your walk elegant, leisurely.

Judging from your occasional hums and your ceaseless optimism, you’re enjoying this journey. It almost makes him feel bad; guilty about how adamantly he refused all this just an hour ago.

It hasn’t been too bad. Sure, you’re bold and intrepid, and yeah, in some ways he is, too — but his courage stems from other motivations. From adrenaline-loaded activities or joyful, temporary pains. Like his tattoos; his motorcycle; the summer he bungee-jumped for the first time.

You’re a different kind of daring; you challenge your limits in crowds and consider life a respectful joke. You don’t ever hurt anyone, he doesn’t think — you just go and see how far you can push yourself.

Perhaps in some sense, the two of you complement each other while simultaneously seeming to be cut from the same wood. Perhaps you’re different, but then again, not so much.

You’re quiet; you weren’t until you left the snack bar. As for now, however, you seem distracted, swallowing heaps of your dessert as you scan the surroundings you’ve led the two into. You’re somewhat unfazed by it, yet peering as though you’ve been here before.

Which, in retrospect, makes sense. You’ve been wanting to show him places you enjoy after all.

When the silence extends, Jungkook, along with the chirping of the nightlife, breaks it with a, “You know what?”

Your head swerves to his side, the wooden fork in your mouth. The pure gaze you give him throws him off guard for a moment — it’s somewhat sweet. But as he regains himself, he says, “I didn’t think we’d get to a housing scheme here. The main street is super close, but the vibe is so different.”

“I know. It’s a little scary at night when you’re alone. Gives very Desperate Housewives, doesn’t it? Secrets veiled behind shut curtains.” You draw closer, imitating a spooky gesture. “But I liked coming here when I was younger.”

Bingo. He thought so.

“Ah… why?”

“My friend lived here,” you explain with a tilt towards a random direction; he doubts the friend lived in just the house you gestured to, “she’s long moved out of course, but we’d play on these streets back then. Most of the neighbours knew me, too!”

Jungkook tsks, hauling his own bite out of the cup, and you add, “No, seriously! We could just knock at anybody’s door here, and they’d let me in.”

“Not if they moved out, too. A lot of time has passed.”

You bob your head. “Time has passed indeed. It does so pretty fast.”

“Doesn’t it?”

You seem to get into overdrive, gearing up; he didn’t think this topic would rev you up like this, but it appears you have a somewhat firm and fond opinion about the passing of time. Jungkook recognises the sentiment before you speak — the light of the lampposts reflects in your eyes like glitter.

Only, he doesn’t foresee what you say next, your tone teasing through the joy you display—

“Yeah! Like. Do you remember when I told you to not get the wrap and you still di—”

“Shut up.”

The roll of his eyes isn’t anything new; but the faint feeling that accompanies it, something akin to amusement, certainly is.

“Okay, but. Seriously,” you start again, sly smirk falling, voice neutralising the mock, “it felt different here. Because like, you know, where I live, it gets crowded. I’m not too far from the city centre, so… this place always felt really peaceful to me. Jieun and I played together a lot.”

Jungkook frowns.

“Jieun?”

“Hm? Oh. The friend I spoke about? She’s pretty cool.”

“Ah… Right, right.”

“Mhmm,” you hum, the end of your small fork tapping the bottom of the nearly finished cup, “you know another way to know that time passes really fast?” You pause for effect, then add, “It’s been ages since we saw each other for the first time.”

“Right. At a party, too, right? When was that anyway?”

“Hmm… Like.” You ponder, blinking, looking up to the sky. “Like two years ago?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen; if you’d asked him, he would’ve estimated a year tops. If he digs in his memory thoroughly enough, he could probably even remember what you wore that day; what you looked like.

It doesn’t feel like two years. You’re right — time truly does pass like the wind.

“Wow,” he exclaims, “it’s been this long since you started pestering me?”

“Shut up,” it’s your turn to blurt, your body swaying towards him until you push him to the side of the vacant road. “I didn’t even come near you most of the time.”

“I know, I know. You were fun to look at, though. Seemed to enjoy yourself every single time.”

Shit, why did he say that? Shouldn’t he hold onto the image he fostered; the one that’s permanently irked by you, throwing snarky remarks throughout the night?

And…

Didn’t this just break the banter, the frenemyship — frenmity? — the two of you have going on? Was it too nice? It’ll probably surprise you. Then again, is he a damn child? Why would he worry about such things? Question his own kindness?

Why would he hold onto his ego and deny you his humane side when you’ve been nothing but lovely to him all night?

The young adult rivalry is over, Jeon Jungkook. Look at her and fucking admit that you’re the arrogant one.

But funnily enough, you don’t seem to notice anyway.

“Hmmm, I do love my job,” you answer, “I have a lot of fun organising stuff. Doing something good for other people, right? See them enjoy it. I mean, of course there are days when things don’t go as planned, but.”

You lift a shoulder, indulging in the final remnants of your chewy mochi and the melted matcha ice cream inside.

“I know. It happens to me, too.”

“Really? How?”

Jungkook waves towards the sky, lists, “Heavy rain, lots of traffic, too spontaneous, issues with the camera… etcetera. Anything can happen.”

“Yeah — I get it. But yeah, I do love doing this. I meet a lot of nice people, too. And I guess that makes me feel very… blessed? It puts things into perspective.”

“How so?”

“Like, it makes you see that most people aren’t bad.”

Huh. Odd. Not that he’d ever deem the entire globe vile, putting a standardised label that he can impossibly prove. But as far as he has seen… too many people aren’t good either.

“Really?” he asks. “That’s a lucky thing to experience.”

You look genuinely surprised, turning towards him when you ask, “You don’t?”

“Uhm — rarely. I do enjoy photography. Always have.” His mind zooms into a glinting memory from the past, and his shoulders and voice rise when he recalls, “Y’know… My dad got me one of those yellow disposable Kodak cameras when I was a kid. I loved it so much.”

You nod; if he didn’t know better, he’d almost say you look… delighted. Actually interested.

“And events and weddings,” he continues, “they’re beautiful to capture. It’s probably the lights and the pretty people. And just… the memories?”

This time, he looks away, straight to the road; if he hadn’t, he’d know that your gaze is definitely fond now. No doubt about it. You listen in closely.

It’s the first time he’s talking to you like this, or to anyone — or for this long, for that matter. Most of your conversations were fleeting, fiery, a petulant back and forth that — he now realises — could’ve been something else, something better, too.

“But then it just sucks when so many of them can’t appreciate it properly,” he explains, raising his hands to emphasise, tone galled. “I mean, I look at my camera and I see a tool to create art. It’s… nothing I take for granted. Just think about it.”

The ball of fire in his chest grows; he feels it warm up, gassed-up. “A thing that can hold onto moments in absolute high definition, so that you can still remember them years later? The 18th century couldn’t have imagined. They needed to commit everything to memory just like that.”

“Wow, Jungkook… You really do love this, too.”

His arms fall to the side. He inhales the fresh flurry of air. Rethinks his passion for his job and says, “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do.”

“…But?”

He knows what’s missing.

“I love the art, but I hate the clients. The event hosts. Not you, but the one even above you.”

Jungkook reckons this was a confession that long sat on his tongue unmentioned. Of course he thought about it; is always reminded when he attends these functions, standing at the back, at the front, left and right, unnoticed and taken for granted.

But now that it’s out and that he’s finally verbalised it to somebody… it definitely liberates something in his head.

You see his issue with these gatherings; he knows you do because he’s figured out this much. You’re filled with enough empathy, sympathy, every grand word ending on the same syllable to acknowledge his disappointment.

But you’re filled with humour and absurdity, too, evident in the answer you provide to diffuse the tension.

“So, that’s why you’re always in a foul mood.”

“Shu—”

“Shut up, yeah, yeah.” You giggle, but then halt for a moment, toying with the rim of your paper cup, “But you know, I think art is worth something even if just one person appreciates it. If it helps in any way… I’m always impressed. And I always appreciate it when I call you and you come despite finding me so annoying.”

One corner of your lips lifts, the smile humble and light; sends a pang of guilt through him. Have you always been so nice?

“Also, I do see the pictures almost every single time,” you add, “and you’re so good at this. At the job itself and the editing afterwards. Honestly.”

“…You think?”

Damn.

Jungkook would probably not bask in this hobby, continue his job if he wasn’t proficient in what he does. He’s known about his prowess ever since he was young.

But praises do offer a sense of magical warmth, don’t they? He doesn’t think any creative mind ever sickens of such unexpected support. And the way you say it… makes him want to never lay down his camera.

“Of course, yes,” you confirm, “not to shoot up your ego, but… you once sent a set of pictures where I found one of me. Don’t know if you even noticed? I was wearing that lilac dress and curls, I still remember — and—”

Stuck on the mention of your clothing, he immediately attaches a detail to the memory, “Sleeveless dress. Long silver earrings, right?”

“Oh… right…”

Right.

He won’t mention that he looked at that picture for just a second longer than at the others that night. Noticed for the first time how pretty you were. Not too deep of a thought, a twelve second stare, but… you wore this vibrant smile on that picture, and in some way, he did hope you’d see it, too.

It seems you did. He feels satisfied, proud even.

“Right,” you repeat, your defences somehow down, “uhm. I printed the picture. Still have it somewhere.”

Jungkook has already often wondered what people do with the pictures; put them in albums? Frame them and pin them over their couch? Right now, he also wonders — do you look at it a lot?

And this again begs the question — when you do, does your decision to book a vendor like him fill you with pride? Like your choice was right?

“That’s so nice,” he says.

“All that to say,” you inhale, “that I think you’re really fucking skilled.”

Woah. You weren’t quite certain if your consolation would bring him any solace, but you’ve done far more than that. You’ve shown him that you see what he does — and isn’t this what every artist craves? To be seen?

The tension buzzes between him and you like electricity; he doesn’t know if it’s just him lighting up or if you’re feeling a kindred link, too. But it’s somewhat intense in this moment of walking under the stars, surrounded by quietude and absolute pose.

So much so that he’s soon submerged by an odd urge to make the intensity wane, “Hey, does this feel to you like… a cliché chick flick kinda dialogue?”

You know…

The moment when two find an empty street in the middle of the night, realising that a conversation with each other isn’t the end of the world after all?

That type of thing?

But he doesn’t say any of it.

“Yeah? Maybe. But it’s also true,” you argue, “I’m an honest person and I don’t think I’d say anything I didn’t mean.”

“Ah, yeah?” Jungkook voices, taking the emptied out ice cream cup and throwing it into the bin on the side of the road, along with his own.

“Mhm, one hundred percent,” he hears you say, followed by a light, quiet smacking noise.

He doesn’t see what you’re doing until he arrives back where you stand; watches you lick the sticky rest off the pad of your thumb, smiling when you stare up at him again. It’s a mundane gesture; he’s done it ever since he was a kid.

But somehow, he can’t stop looking.

Might be the way your lips curve when you do it, or how your eyes smile when your mouth does. The authenticity you portray is rare; perhaps he just confused it with madness until now.

Seconds pass, and with that, your smile does, too. As it fades and drops, replaced by a curious expression and big eyes, you soon mutter, “What?”

There’s no response to that, really. He doesn’t know either.

He doesn’t understand how you turned out to be so right. How it’s such an ultimate truth that a serene night brings out a dreamy alter ego, hitherto undetected. Jungkook has never felt like much of a romantic, but right now, he thinks he’s on a different plane of reality.

This doesn’t feel like Earth; and the town doesn’t feel like the one he struts through during the day.

So maybe it’s not that wayward or groundless for him to lean in. To bend a bit more. Further and further until you laugh nervously; he knows you’re preparing to crack another joke, but you remain silent as he approaches.

Gauges your reaction. Will you run? You aren’t.

Instead, you gulp; let your pupils fall to his piercings, just when his own gaze moves to your lips. His right hand, tattooed, led by its own will, reaches for your cheek until he’s cupping it; and suddenly, his mouth parts — what’s happening? — and then—

And then, a vehicle roars from afar.

Both of you hear the motorcycle before you even see the blinding white light; he grips your arm, probably too harshly, dodging the street with you and jumping onto the pedestrian walk.

One must be crazy to still drive through the city at this hour. Right?

You pant, mixed with insane chuckles of relief, “Shit. We almost died.”

“We didn’t,” he refutes, “we had plenty of time.”

“Oh no,” you stretch the last word, eyes squinting. An accusing forefinger points at him before you deduce, “We almost died because you like me. Of all things!”

“I do not. You just looked kinda cute.”

Jungkook might’ve attempted an indifferent answer, but instead, he steered into an excuse that you do not accept at all. Your smirk is telling and satisfied, and if he wasn’t trying to prove a point, your Cheshire Cat grin would’ve made him laugh, too.

“But you did almost kiss me,” you persist.

Ugh, you’re bold. Laughing like it means nothing; no embarrassment, no shy restraint in you. Which is probably not too bad; somehow even charming. Explains the rosy dust on his cheeks at least. He feels it in the heat, can’t believe he almost kissed you just now.

Why does he feel like a hormonal adolescent? It’s not like he’s never kissed anybody.

You’re still enclosed by pure delight, nudging his arm repeatedly, annoyingly. And when he doesn’t answer, choosing reticence instead, you nearly shriek, as if he confirmed all you just said.

His instinctive hand slaps up to your mouth, covering it, shushing you. You’re still smiling, working on removing his palm, but before your nonsense can proceed, a sudden light flickers in the corner of Jungkook’s eye.

Immediately, he seeks out the source, soon finding a room in the house left to him lighting up. You woke somebody, it seems. A silhouette becomes clearer, its edges more refined with every second, and just before the owner of the place can shove the curtains aside, you grip Jungkook’s hand.

Within a moment, he finds himself tugged away by you, running, nearly stumbling over his own feet. You blurt, “Better get away before they kill us.”

As you leave the tranquil settlement behind, Jungkook still hears a voice from an open window, cursing the younger generation as they do; and then, out of the damn blue, a fucking dog barks.

When you turn over your shoulder, mouth dropping open, Jungkook knows you’re thinking the same as him — this happens outside of cinematic universes, too?

It takes a minute until you’ve reached another road again; one of the kind he’s more familiar with. The city type. The two of you come to a halt near some pole, and you let his hand go, leaning against it.

For a moment, you work on catching your breath, Jungkook’s hands settling on his thighs. And then, when your eyes meet, you burst into a fit of laughter, followed by a playful wiggle of his eyebrows to which you respond, “Don’t act innocent. This is your fault.”

“What? You were lau—”

“Because of you! Oh, I know you want me so bad.”

You’re jesting, of course. Swaying your head, poking his chest, a brat straight out of some TV show. But what you can do, he’s been perfecting for years.

So he answers in kind, “And if I did?”

Only for you to utter something that not even his brain can compute.

“If you did? Then… I think I’d let you.”

“Ah… Yeah? Why?”

“Because— I think you’re just half as bad.”

His snicker is half amused, half flattered. He purses his lips, nodding, and then declares, “You’re just a quarter as bad. But guess I’ve gotten so tired that I’ve started doing weird shit.”

You click your tongue, puffing out a breath, instantly reacting when he only flicks your chin and then walks away. Your startled expression prevails, a distance between him and you established, but just as he puts his hands in his jeans, he hears you finally follow.

“Hey,” you voice from behind, tapping his arm, “are you really tired?”

“I was kidding, but. Honestly? A little.”

“…Hmm. You know, my friend lives in an apartment nearby. Jieun? Didn’t move too far from her old home. We could stop there.”

Jungkook’s left eyebrow leaps up, surprised by the suggestion; the idea doesn’t sound too bad. But…

“Wasn’t the deal to go around for a whole night, though?”

“Ohhh. Are you starting to like it?”

You’re observant, he’ll give you that.

“I’m just saying,” he adds, “and also, would she just let a stranger in?”

“Oh, she’s very civilised and hospitable. She wouldn’t mind, and she’s known me for ages. She trusts me.” Maybe you detect the hesitation in his eyes and the twitch of the corner of his lips, because you immediately carry on, “We can just stay for an hour and then go.”

“Would she be awake, even?”

“She’s a night owl. I know that.”

“Uhm…”

He ponders. In some way, he’s kind of liking the breeze, the quiet side of this town. But… would Jieun find that weird? Then again, can he say no? You’re ogling at him with these hopeful eyes; maybe you need the rest, after all.

“Okay,” he says; he even thinks you jump a bit in joy, nodding.

“Okay! You’ll like her. We can leave with newfound energy afterwards. Okay, cool.”

That’s all you need to lead the way. You look around a little, making sure you’re approaching the right direction, and when you find your confidence again, you march ahead.

Your walk is energetic, not too idle anymore, your beam as dashing and fervid as ever. Jungkook knows his way around editing programs; he’s added wings to pictures before or removed unwelcome passersby on an otherwise great photo.

He even understands how to surround a body or silhouette with a glow; but he’s never seen it around an actual person outside of all these graphics editors before.

Your body is so clearly encircled by it.

Bedazzling.

Screw the 18th century. Even in these modern times of advancement, Jungkook doesn’t think he needs a camera to commit you to memory.

3:25AM, Her

You avert your eyes from the phone and turn towards Jungkook, reaching him where he’s planted firmly in front of the apartment complex. He’s been waiting, back settled against the wall, and as you near, his eyebrows rise in question.

Your friend didn’t respond until now — but just as you foretold, she’s still awake at this ungodly hour.

“Okay. She’s home, but,” you explain, already ringing the bell to her apartment, “she said she’d be leaving soon. Sounds like she’s in a rush. Typos and all.”

Jungkook waits until the buzzing sound of the opening door ceases and you’ve stepped inside, leading him up the stairs, and then wonders again with big eyes, “And she’ll just let us stay? Alone at her apartment?”

You wave his concerns off with a hand’s gesture, “She trusts me, dude. I’ve done this a couple times.”

“What for?”

Hm… you dive back into the old days. Some new, some old. What were they again? They’re mostly blurred, but some of them are carved in your core memory.

“Oh, just…” you reminisce. “If I wanted to meet guys and wouldn’t want to bring them home back when I was still with my parents? Or when I’d need a night to sober up. They would’ve killed me if I’d come home drunk. And Jieun moved out early.”

“How old is… Jieun anyway?”

Old. Not really, but you like to vex her to the point of a pout. She’s patient, but she’s also an incredibly close friend — you allow yourself to be a brat with her and she allows herself to roll her eyes.

“Early 90s kid?” you guess. “A little older than us.”

‘93, as far as you remember.

“Ah. Damn,” he voices; you don’t know why.

“Okay.” You climb the last steps to the second floor, halting in front of a white door with a copper number six on top of it. Knock thrice. “Here goes.”

She might’ve been getting ready close to the door, working on her shoes or questing for her keys. Because she opens mere three seconds later, with a radiant smile on her face able to melt hearts, and a comfortable attire that’s, however, not comfortable enough to wear at home.

A thin sweatshirt and a bun, loose strands framing her pretty face, and shorts that are definitely meant to be worn outside. She won’t be here for long. And you’re focused on this very fact and her hurry so much that you nearly don’t register how shy Jungkook gets.

His voice is somewhat smaller than before when he looks at her; your eyes shift to him, and he’s blinking before he finally breaks and mutters, “Oh. Hi.”

“Hey!” she retorts; she looks so sweet saying it. You understand his perplexity. “Date?”

“Nah. Just a friend,” you answer, which, yet again — very confusing — makes him hum in question. If he started regarding himself as your date all of a sudden, you swear…

You smile.

“Just a friend,” you repeat.

“Fabulous. So you’re not walking around alone, at least,” Jieun concludes, letting you in. In the living room, a hand on her kitchen island, she points through an open door, “Okay, so, the guest room bed is made. Use blankets on it, if you want to rest.”

Her finger shifts to signal to the entrance you came through, imitates a pulling motion, “Don’t worry about locking the door whenever you leave. Also got some leftover food in the fridge, but there’s also cup ramyeon and some frozen pizza in the freezer. Sorry… I need to go shop—”

But you interrupt, shaking your head, “Oh, no worries, really. We just ate, so we’ll just stay here for a little, work off the food coma and leave. Won’t damage anything.”

“I know you won’t, baby.”

She moves to fetch her purse from the couch, and Jungkook uses the moment to whisper in your ear, “Where is she going anyway?”

You don’t know; you shrug your shoulders, pursing your lower lip, but echo his question a moment later, louder than him, “Where are you going anyway?”

Previously cramming in her purse, checking it for content, she looks at you again, telling you, “Ah… Jongsuk is having a bad night and wants me to come over.” Regarding Jungkook, she adds, “My boyfriend. He’s an insomniac and got stoned tonight, too, and just—”

Jieun blows a raspberry, raising a hand for a whatever gesture, and Jungkook mumbles, “Oof. Sounds…”

“Yeah… I know. In any case. Make yourself comfortable, okay?”

“Yes. Thank you so much.”

“Thanks, Jieun,” you repeat.

She nods once more, waving her tiny hand and flashes one last smile before she’s out the door and has left you in full silence. You shuffle your feet for just a second before you look at him again; he still looks somewhat in a daze.

So you ask, “What’s wrong?”

“Hm? Nothing.”

Nothing, right… that’s what they all say after seeing Lee Jieun for the first time. You try not to think too hard about the teeny tiny sting in your enormous, delicate heart. Only let him know, “Don’t worry too much. What could happen? She does trust me.”

You take a couple steps towards the bedroom she offered you, and you hear him follow. Look at the neatly made bed, a thought occurring; but you don’t entertain it yet. Only add, “Besides, she owes me.”

He chuckles. “That’s how you live your life, huh?”

“It’s alright. We’ll just be here for an hour. She’s known me all her life, so nothing to doubt here. And also, think about it,” the tip of your forefinger taps against your temple, “even if something did happen or went missing, she’d know where to find me and whom to report.”

He waits, ogles at you. Then presses his lips together, nods as if you made all the sense in the world, and lifts a shoulder — agreeing, “If you say so. Then uhm — let’s lay down for a bit?”

“Sure! I’ll just sleep in her room, so you can have your privacy here.”

“Mhm. Okay.”

You stand at the door frame for a moment, feet unmoving.

He’s already turned away. And you regret not walking away when you watch him unabashedly take off the blazer and provide a glimpse to his snatched waist as inked fingers scratch his back briefly, shirt moving up. But then it’s covering his skin again.

Flawless back; pretty golden. A little further up, and you’re sure you would’ve seen strong shoulder blades, too. He’s worn fancy dress shirts at luxurious events before — you know many would kill for his built, because you’ve seen his bicep flex before.

You forget where you are for a second, but when he opts to turn, eyes on you for just a heartbeat, you stir. Blurt out an awkward apology, and then leave. Wish him a good night, barely waiting for one back before you close the door.

You laugh quietly at yourself.

Her room is just next door; you already mentally prepare for a nap. Meanwhile, Jungkook plumps onto the bed, groaning when the comfort hits, and works on getting used to the ceiling, if only briskly.

He only notices how much his head is spinning when he closes his eyes, ready to doze off. Should he set an alarm? He doesn’t want to still be here by the time Jieun returns. Maybe he should tell you, too.

But his body won’t move.

Yet, in the time he’s failed to make up his mind, he suddenly hears a knock at the door again. Must be you — must be telepathy.

He tells you to enter, and you do with a shy demeanour; only thirty seconds must have passed, right? A minute, tops. He looks at you in wonder, and you explain, “She uh— locked her room. No clue where the keys are. Guess that’s why she specifically pointed out the guest room.”

You nibble your lip, getting no answer back. He looks just as much out of ideas as you, and you still refuse to bring back the thought from before; yet, you ask, “What do we do now?”

“Well…” He looks around, though there is not much to take in. “I can sleep on the couch?”

“…The couch is too small.”

“Okay. Then I’ll just sleep on the floor.” He’s already working on getting up, no hesitation, scratching through his now messy hair, feet moving on the fluffy carpet. “I’ll take one of those pillows, though. Carpet should be good eno— what are you doing?”

You’ve charged towards the bed, climbed past him until you’re sitting behind him, facing his back and his craning neck. You say, “I’m not giving you that pillow.”

“Why?”

“You can’t sleep on the floor.”

“…Why not?”

You throw an unbelieving look, as if it’s obvious. Your flat hand gestures towards the carpet vaguely, and you argue, “It’s uncomfortable.”

“Listen, I should. This or the couch, nothing else left.” It’s crazy to you how he doesn’t even consider the bed instead of giving it up for you. “It’s just an hour. Don’t worry about it.” He stretches a hand towards you, curling his fingers in a grabby motion. “Come on. Gimme that.”

You’re astonished — beyond pleased about the fact that he cares like this. That he’s so… mindful and humble. You give up; he won’t falter and you know.

“Okay… then take this blanket, too.”

He grabs the second one that Jieun provided, head bowing a little as he says, “Thank you.”

The proceeding minutes you spend preparing for bed, slightly discomforted by your dress, pass in half-awkward, half-comfortable silence. He lays down on his unusual spot, and you cuddle into the blanket on your light, soft side.

As the rustling of blankets and sheets subsides, it gives way to the sound of the ticking clock; you focus on it, count the clicks like sheep.

But sleep doesn’t quite fall upon you yet, and you guess Jungkook feels similar when he calls your name and asks, “What does she owe you?”

Your head moves towards his voice, even though he can’t see you. “Huh?”

“Jieun. What does she owe you? And your coworker.”

“Oh. Uh. Honestly, just kindness.”

You can already see it — doe eyes rolling at another one of your cryptic answers. You know people don’t fathom your thoughts very well, and some feel annoyed by your dreamy outlook of the world. You don’t mind, but you wonder what he’s thinking.

But all he responds with is, “What?”

“Well, just. They’ve known me for ages. I’ve been there for Jieun for so long, and Jongin has always been so incredibly nice to me. Picked me up when I was dead drunk once and brought me home. Got me medicine and everything. And I’ve lent him some comfort over the years, too.”

It hasn’t been too long, so you remember. You’ve been good friends with him ever since you started your job; a steady part of your team. He and you have got each other’s back.

“These two are friends,” you say, “and I think kindness is the most we can give our loved ones.”

Jungkook hesitates. Have you bored him to sleep? Or is he pondering your words, thinking of you as weird? Maybe not—

Because he actually converses, asking, “You think? Doesn’t that mean we’re just kind to them then, so they can be kind to you in return?”

“I mean… yes and no. Owing might be the wrong word. I’m not nice to others to get something back. I’m like this because I want to be and because the world can be shitty and it’s important to be nice, and in return, I want people to be nice to me, too. It’s not an eye to eye kind of thing, it’s just about. Spreading affection in relationships. It’s what they’re here for.”

“…Hm. Is this why you’re never rude to me? Even when I deserve it,” he asks, registering a hum. “You know… you think really… uniquely.”

This is a nice way to phrase it at least. People like you; you’re good with them. But sometimes, they can be mean, too. Not that you mind. It’s natural — people occur in all types and shapes.

“But is it unique, though? Isn’t it a given?” you question.

“Yeah, probably, I just— never thought of it this deeply.”

“Mmmh. So is me thinking uniquely a compliment? I can’t say.”

He laughs, and you join immediately, exclaiming an, “I’m serious!” in the middle of it all. Jungkook’s snicker is authentic, so you enjoy hearing it; but you like his answer even better.

“Maybe. I just… I feel like a lot of people try to be different these days. Or play a role to be perceived a certain way? But I think you’re genuine — you actually mean the things you say without any hidden intention to make people forcefully like you, right?”

An intention? Oddly phrased. You think, though… that what he said was nice.

Still, you confirm, “I don’t try to be anyone for people to like me.”

“I didn’t say otherwise! This is actually just what I meant. Besides, people like you anyway because you’re you.” As if he’s reading your mind. “That’s what I was saying.”

You hum, blinking at the ceiling and the little modern light hanging there, the beam off. The darkness pleasant. You conjure another question and ask, “So you think me being me is a good thing?”

You always considered it was. You like being you. But Jungkook didn’t like whatever makes up your personality — has this changed? Apparently.

“Of course,” he surprisingly answers, “it’s always a good thing. And just because I disagree with some of your characteristics, it doesn’t mean everybody will.” Oh. Well. But wait— “Or maybe, I’m just a moaner.”

Well.

“That you are,” you verify.

“Damn.”

“But, but— you’re kind, too, you know? Not everyone says the things you just said.”

“Maybe.”

“So…” you stall, rethinking his prior words. “Do you still disagree with all those characteristics of mine?”

Another joyous sound tumbles out of him, much in the form of a breather than a laugh; hushed, but you still hear it clearly. Perhaps you’re being a little awkward; but in all honesty, you hope he’s just finding it amusing, somewhat cute.

“I mean — you’re too blunt. But brave, like, I could never. The thing you did at the shop? Never. But this isn’t bad. And you aren’t bad.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

His voice is a whisper. Reminds you of a feeling akin to temptation; your mind automatically imagines the susurrating sound near your ear, exhaling the very syllable he just did. Frankly, you’re absolutely tortured by the knowledge of him being this close.

That you could probably touch his face if you rolled over to the edge of the bed, letting your arm dangle, seeking his skin. That he’s in the same room, talking to you this gently, saying things that a girl doesn’t hear too often these days anymore.

There it is. The intrusive thought from before… prevailing.

And you’re tortured by it. But mostly, by the image of him standing in front of you between the houses just a little time ago, staring at you, pupils flitting back and forth between your eyes and your lips. How he neared you. How he almost kissed you.

You might’ve joked about it then, but deep down, and especially now, you’re intrigued by the idea. Of the fantasy of a what if — what if he’d actually kissed you?

Taking a deep breath, you look to the side, staring at the door and call, “Hey, Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

“Is it uncomfortable down there?”

“Uh… a little.”

You shuffle at your spot, turning to the side. “Just thinking. What good does it do if we don’t rest well? What are we here for?”

“…What are you talking about?”

Pause. Quietude. You close your eyes, then open them again.

You’re never shy; so you don’t deem it an advantage for yourself to turn timid now either. You tell him, “Come up. I know you want to. I know I want you to.”

He doesn’t say anything; you bite your tongue. Maybe it was a mistake. But then his voice chimes again, wondering, “Are you sure?”

Your answer is immediate.

“Of course. Yes, I’m sure.”

“Okay… okay.”

As he starts to move, you gulp. You make place on the bed, moving to your previous side, pushing the blanket aside in case he wants to slip under it, too. The motions of his silhouette seem uncertain as he makes his way up to you, as if he’s uncomfortable with it.

“I… Was I wrong…? Do you not want to?” you make sure.

“What?” you hear him say; see his head shake. “Ah, that’s not it. Just want to make sure you’re really okay with it. I’m not the type of guy to…”

“I know. It’s fine. I don’t think you are.”

“Okay.” The mattress bulges where he lays down before it evens out again. He emits a couple groaning sounds, probably glad to give his back something proper. You turn to him just when he says, “Honestly… that’s a little better, yeah.”

“Thought so. Are you tired?”

“Definitely.”

“But you’re not sleeping.”

“Because you’re talking.”

Wrong. There was enough silence for him to nod off before. He was the one who started the conversation at all; you were ready to turn and toss and rest eventually.

When you don’t respond, his head turns on his pillow, too; in the darkness that you got used to, you see his eyes twinkle. Both of you know that you’re looking at each other. And he’s kind of close — closer than you thought.

And… if you’re not wrong, he just inched nearer only a nanomoment ago. He repeats in a whisper, once more accusing, “You’re talking, that’s why.”

“That’s really why, huh?”

“Mhm.”

“The only reason there really is?”

“What else could there be?”

You smile, brazen, letting out the courage you’ve gathered, “Well, I know what else it is for me.”

“Yeah?”

Daring a step further, you graze his shirt featherlightly; you don’t know whether he notices. Not until he moves his hand, fingers ghosting near yours.

Waiting until you reveal with sheer, sudden heart palpitations, “I… I want you to kiss me. You do, too, don’t you?”

He inhales, but doesn’t exhale. What does it mean? You don’t know.

You don’t know what it is until you hear the smile in his words, gentle yet tantalising when he says, “…I do.”

“Good. Good. Then kiss me.”

And the rest proceeds without hesitation and without another plea.

His body moves as if on its own accord; he seems possessed, or controlled by a puppeteer. Warm lips lock with yours before you can draw another breath.

They feel soft, full, like tiny pillows, a contrast to the metal of his piercings. And they move gently, so carefully, like he’s still scared of crossing a line despite your permission. But when you lean into him, hoping for more proximity, he blossoms a little. Initiates more.

Oh, he, too, has been waiting for this, hasn't he?

A hand, nearly as warm as his kiss, slithers up to your face, holding you closer to him. The bangs that so often cover his forehead are tickling yours now, his head tilting to give his cute nose more space.

And with that, he deepens the kiss, too. Dares a step further, separating your lips with his, trying things out. He gauges your reaction as the tip of his tongue sneaks its way into the mix, and the moment you do the same, he dives in properly.

Kisses you just a little harder, tasting you, sighing into the movements as if all the weight of the world has dropped off his shoulders. As if he’s relieved, calmed down, resting for the first time tonight.

Yet, at the same time, he’s firing himself up — moving over your body slowly, holding onto your mouth to his best abilities, as if you’d disperse if he let go for too long. As if you’d change your mind.

He cages you in to keep you underneath, not touching your face anymore but shoving his fingers into your already tousled hair. If you were still in your right mind, you’d recognise how insane this situation is. Your younger self would’ve never predicted such a moment to ever become part of your life.

But it is… it is so clearly being played into your hard drive; somehow, you already know it’ll remain stuck in your memory: the way he’s kissing you, so thirsty, so insatiable. How he’s sighing, relaxed, yet sporting an audible heartbeat against your chest.

He uses moments of switching sides to breathe but continues right away; the keenness drives you crazy. You touch his shoulders and then wrap your arms around him firmly, making him hasten closer until he’s nearly falling onto you.

What in the heavenly make out sessions is this…

It’s nasty, yet sweet. Followed by quick breaths; it takes merely a minute until you feel his lower body grinding into you, his jeans tight around his crotch all of a sudden. And the second you realise he’s hardening beneath them, your body reacts.

Reacts so effectively.

Your lower tummy tickles, dampness pooling below as he pushes into you again, harder this time. You moan, enticed by your goosebumps and the heavy bulge. Solid enough for you to crave him within a moment’s notice.

And it only worsens threefold when he whispers, “Fuck… Somebody really knows how to kiss, huh?”

“You’re talking. What was this—” He so rudely interrupts with another peck, and you laugh into it. “Yeah, this…”

Your last word dissipates like candle smoke; you don’t even know why you bother to speak. Your voice is barely perceptible when his teeth remove the short sleeve of your dress, kissing your shoulder and then down to your cleavage.

It’s easy to remove your dress; it’s light, summer-y — but he doesn’t bare you just yet. Plays around at the mounds of your tits until he pushes the neck of the dress down a bit, asking, “May I take it off?”

Oh, if you could count the times you’ve imagined his veiny hands removing this damn dress just in the last fifteen minutes…

“Of course,” you permit, “do I look like I’d reject you?”

“Mmmh.” The hum is proud, satisfied, vocalised amidst another kiss to your clavicles. “Just making sure.”

Soft, warm hands trail up your leg, leaving a path of another set of goosebumps. You want him to stay right there on your thigh, knead the flesh, press into it, showcase the lust he feels in the beguiling pain.

But instead, he pushes up your dress, fingers ghosting over your ass — and when he doesn’t find your panties but only bare skin, he stops kissing you. Looks at you. Makes out the string of your thong a second later — in the dark, you discern the way his lips round in captivation.

He’s loving this.

He tugs at the string and lets it snap back into place; you gasp even though it doesn’t hurt, but it drives you mad when he states, “Wow. Very intriguing.”

Leaving it at this for just now, he kisses you again, tongues mingling once more before he releases a sharp, nearly aggressive hiss and mumbles, “Holy fuck. I can’t stop.”

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” you guarantee.

“Good. Good, good, good.”

The dress surrounds your waist now, stopping below your breasts, and Jungkook journeys down to drag his lips around the spots he hasn’t touched yet. As if he’s trying to familiarise himself with all of you, working towards the goal of memorising you entirely.

His teeth scrape at your pelvis just lightly, seemingly contemplating whether he wants to destroy these panties or not — but then decides against it. You wouldn’t mind; you’re not showing anybody anything of you tonight but him.

And you’re already such a mess; breathing so irregularly, letting out his name and quiet sighs. He should know he could do basically anything. That you’re ready for him.

But instead, he only curses again, sucking at your skin harshly, nails digging into your hips. And then, from below, you hear him say, “Want you to suck my dick so bad.” He moves up, fingertips on your cheek, rubbing himself against your underwear, and questions, “Will you suck my dick, baby?”

Oh, he didn’t just…

Oh, the way the pet name screws with your head is irreversible. You feel sick at the mention, breathing out hard, about to get up at the speed of light to swallow him fully; to the hilt.

But you won’t give him the satisfaction yet; you’ve gotten used to the darkness, and seeing the hazy insanity in his eyes spurs you on to play with him a bit more. So you lift your body, giving him hope, but then say, “I have a better idea.”

“Ah? Where are you going?”

“Wait.”

He quietens. Falls to the side and onto his back as he watches whatever you’re trying to do unfold. You look back at him for just a blink of an eye, but you immediately perceive the hand cupping his clothed dick, moving a bit, up and down.

“Okay. Should work on this first,” you say, straddling him backwards.

You hike up your dress more, baring your back to him, and you instantly hear the breath he releases. Feel the palm touching your spine, grazing it; you imagine huge eyes ogling at you like he’s reached nirvana. You so hope he’s looking at you like this.

“My God…” he only mutters, however, proving your point when he opts to get up. But you turn as much as you can, a flat hand pushing him down again, to which he complains, “What?”

“I told you to wait, silly. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You sure? You’re being pretty mean right now.”

“I’m not being mean. You’re just not patient,” you laugh. “Give me a second and I’ll wreck your world, ‘kay?”

“Ah?”

“Mhm.”

“That I wanna se— oh. Oh.”

Exactly.

Once you’re done pulling off the dress, you shift back, enough for your pussy to align with his gorgeous face. Jungkook instinctively grabs your ass to pull you lower, and you chuckle at the restless gesture.

But you need to focus; and as best and tidily as you can, you unbutton his jeans, zipping them open until you detect his shorts. He raises his hips to help you, and you bite your lower lip, crazed by the sight that awaits you once the jeans are halfway down.

The bulge is big indeed. The imprint is insane; the light from outside allows glimpses, and you salivate, bowing your head to kiss him above his underwear, feeling him stir. And he imitates, blowing against your wetness, his finger — middle one? — curling around the string digging between your ass cheeks.

When he frees your pussy, you feel it. It hits the air in the room coldly, a contrast to his hot breath. A second more and you might drip into his tantalising mouth, just how you’re drooling over the cock you finally set free.

It springs out, veiny under your touch. Hard. Thick and long. Everything good, a fucking ideal package. You scold him, “You’ve been hiding this from me?”

“Huh? I wasn’t hiding.”

“Now I realise just how mean you are, man,” you say, shaking your head, spitting onto the slit before wiping it off again with the tip of your tongue. He swears again. “Could’ve had this make me hoarse so long ago.”

“Fuck,” he replicates, “stop talking, or I’ll fuck this mouth of yours. You want to be hoarse so bad, then try me.”

“Is this a threat? You really think I won’t let you? Stay right there, little—” You look again. “Big man. You can do whatever you want, but wait a second, alright?”

“Nah. You’re not the only one teasing. You brat,” Jungkook whispers sharply, delivering a smack to your ass; you gasp. “I just…”

You don’t know what he just — you only know that he’s attaching his mouth to your cunt right away, thong pushed aside, diving in with a tongue so eager. You squint your eyes shut, lips parting, calling his name as he holds you there roughly.

He soon wraps his arms around your hips, like a belt, lips intense as he kisses you even wetter. The sounds he eludes are dirty, sinful; and the feeling of his piercings doesn’t add to your sanity.

You decide to not let this distract you; he’s competitive, you realised, but you are, too. So you lean in, lips wrapping around the tip. Your right hand enfolds his cock, pumping him, tracing every firm vein that protrudes. He’s so pretty all around.

“Shit,” you whisper, hoping he doesn’t hear; only continue to work your tongue around the head, setting the nerves alight as he’s doing for you.

You kiss down the shaft, licking and humming to create a sort of vibration. And then, you take him in as much as you can. Despite being large, barely fitting, soon hitting your throat, you try. Hollow your cheeks, bop your head, gifting him your attention.

But it’s hard. So hard because—

God, he’s lapping you up so good.

So hungry. Out to kill you as he releases the prior belt, bringing two fingers to your pussy and thrusting them into you slowly. Mouth and digits; both at once. Thumb against the clenching hole between your ass.

He’s distracted every now and then, much like you, but he still maintains a steady pace. Cruel… so cruel. Those damn fingers propelling into you, harder sometimes before they slow down again. Curling to hit you just right, massaging the rough, walnutty spot.

Oh, Jungkook knows… knows exactly what to do.

They don’t make men like him anymore.

Your ass clenches when his skills exceed your expectations and he rubs your insides particularly well, mouth just right above your clit as the tongue circles around it. It’s nearly overwhelming; you could cry with this mouthful of dick impaling your throat.

He feels so good on you. So good in you. You want all of you filled, not just your mouth. So you soon let go with a plop, a string of saliva so lewdly connecting your mouth and his member, and you wipe your mouth.

Tell him, “This should be enough.”

And he agrees immediately, smacking his lips, as if licking up the remnants of his food, “Fuck yes. Enough.”

You want to get into the next position, put in some work, but what you don’t expect is that Jungkook is already planning a step ahead. Tapping your ass with his big manly palm, pushing you off of him until you’re crawling on all fours.

Submitted to him. And you don’t mind a bit — just for now, just for him, you’ll give into this because you’ve been craving it. It’s okay; you vow to yourself that in a while, you’ll wreck his shit just as much.

On your elbows and knees, you hear him shifting, the mattress dipping, his knees nearing you and closing your legs in. The palm covering the right side of your ass causes it to jiggle, and when you push your butt towards his pelvis, he praises, “The way you know what to do without me needing to tell you. How convenient.”

“Well,” you breathe out, “it’s not my first rodeo. But do make it the best… okay?”

“No pressure at all, huh? I’ll try my best.”

You want to react, bring a laugh straight out of your throat, but Jungkook is faster. The reaction comes alright, but not as you wanted it to. But rather in a high-pitched moan, arms quivering when he fists his cock, guiding it to your leaking cunt, and rubs the tip between your pussy folds.

You reckon he’s testing out how eager you already are; you contemplate on telling him. On pleading, on saying something that might drive him to action. You don’t mention a single word, though; only let your ass speak once more, steering towards him until he gets the message.

He must have.

Because he clicks his tongue as if to admonish you for your shortage of patience, though only briefly before he surrenders to the itch you cause. Scratching without hesitation now, he finally helps you lose your damn panties and then dips himself into you slowly.

Of course; with a length like his, there’s no way you’d be able to survive a quick push. Jungkook knows to be cautious, penetrating you sweetly; an oxymoron in a moment like this. Your fingers digging into the sheets reveal as much; there’s not much going on yet, but you’re already holding onto the soundness of your mind so desperately.

“Shit, what the fuck,” you murmur, your turn to let out profanities; you’re sure this isn’t your last. “You scared of something, Jeon? I’m… I have an IUD.”

“Scared? No. You’re not an idiot, right?” he whispers. “You would’ve told me if you couldn’t do it like this. Much rather…” He breathes heavily between his words. “I’m taking you in, y’know? Enjoying — fuck — how wet and warm you are… Gonna wreck you raw, though, no p-problem.”

No, your foul words were certainly not the last for tonight; his dick is just halfway through when he stops and another tumbles out of you. He drags the thickness back, then inside again.

Your walls are occupied to their last inch, and you know you could take all of him if you just gave yourself some time — but somehow, his care turns you on even more.

Goddamn, he’s good. All of him — his dick, his voice, his mouth, his touch. He’s so— nnghh…

You have never witnessed his fingers do much more than take the pictures you love. Whenever he operates the button with his forefinger, flexing the inked crown above his knuckle, you already know the man has a talent unmatched.

But right now… right now you have an entirely different perception of these same digits.

Like, when he leans in a bit, still deep inside you, undoing your bra in a smooth motion. Or when he caresses your back, along your spine, contradicting the touch with a harsher, harder jab now.

And shit, when he pulls your ass cheeks apart, digging in further, fucking through your seeping hole until he’s covered in slick, too. It must look so good to him; incredibly memorable.

Your whimpers are quiet and gentle, matching the way he fucks you, only rising in volume when he decides to push another inch in. You behave; you whine softly; that is until all of a sudden, he pulls back most of his cock and shoots back in, colliding with your ass with a slapping sound.

Yelping, you hold the sheets until your fingers hurt, and he bolts forwards, a hand slamming your mouth shut and muffling your mewls. Way too close to your ear, he says, “Sh sh sh… my God. Jieun has neighbours, babe — don’t spoil her reputation.”

He proceeds to kiss the skin under your ear, taking your arms captive until they’re pinned to your back. Fingers intertwine messily, holding your limbs in place, and as he frees your mouth again, you laugh — it’s all you can do to not feel too weirded out by the mention of Jieun’s name right now.

You tell him, “Use my panties then.”

“Your panties, huh? Do you want me to?” You nod, but he’s not obliging enough to give into your wishes. Teasing you to no end. “Nah. I’ll just…”

Jungkook doesn’t finish the sentence; what he does is much more alluring, nearly forcing tears of lust to your waterline. He grabs the back of your neck, urging you to look at him, and just as you register his face close to yours, he kisses you again.

Your body immediately blossoms. You breathe as much as the kiss allows, yielding to his tongue. Let him push you down and into the mattress, imprisoning you under him. And he kisses you… kisses you… kisses you more…

Basks in your dimmed moans as he hits from behind again, hard. Sheathes himself inside you thoroughly and with impact; he’s enjoying the fact that you want to yell, but need to restrain yourself at this time of the night.

Because he’s right. You don’t want Lee Jieun to earn looks in the morning because of you.

As if provoking you, he blatantly asks, “You good?”

“Yes— yes!”

“Mhm…”

He’s out of breath; can barely emit another word. But he doesn’t waste any moment at all; kisses your neck, bites your earlobe. Pushes his hands under your body to get ahold of your tits. Fucks you into space, lifting one of your hands to your face, entangling his fingers with yours.

You shift up and down the mattress, just a little; the position, with him on you, doesn’t allow too many extreme movements, and you’re more than fine with it. There’s something about him going unhinged on you like this.

But… it does awaken the need to retaliate, too.

So you use the opportunity when he decides to pause, running out of energy, gasping for breath. He leaves you empty and yearning, pulling back and sitting up, and judging from the touch on your tummy, you assume he wants to flip you on your spot.

Instead, however, you turn on your own accord, both palms that he held captive minutes ago shoving at him. He produces a strange sound as he falls backwards, landing on the mattress and onto the pillow with big eyes that almost don’t fit his Greek God-esque physique.

Goodness, the damp dark hair. The abs. The pecs. The nipples…

You might dribble onto his sweaty, shiny skin. And you don’t veil your innermost thoughts this time, straddling him as you say, “My turn. Need to ride you so bad.”

He visibly relaxes; leads his fingers to your hips, thumb drawing patterns on them. His tongue darts out to play with the lip rings, and he eyes you up and down. He’s taking you in for the first time properly, just as you are him.

Just as your eyes drifted over his muscular body, he now makes stops along the journey — your pussy on the length of his cock. The tits and the perked nipples. The ruined hair, sticking to your collarbones.

You wonder how he likes what he sees.

Probably enough if he can respond with something like, “I won’t stop you.”

Good to know.

So you take a comfortable seat on top of him, still keeping him down, lining up your sex with his. When you welcome him in again this time, you do so fully. No slow torture, no waiting. You claim your throne until your ass hits his hardened balls.

He says, not quite expecting an answer, so you don’t give one, “You’ll kill me today, right?”

And then you start. Put in all the effort you can gather. He feels heavenly inside you, the perfectly curved length moving just the way it needs to. His groans and calls of your names sound promising, telling; you suppose you’re doing a good enough job if his eyes roll back like this.

The hands on your hips push into your flesh more, and when you remove one and bring it to your mouth, sucking his forefinger with your eyes set on him, he loses his shit. Starts pumping up from below, meeting your up-and-down ministrations.

“Shi— what— do you think,” he attempts, stagnant breathing, “you’re doing…”

But he’s grunting in ardour, so you don’t stop; don’t let him take over fully just yet. No — you roll your hips, bend your back, catch a patch of his hair and then angle your body to crash your lips onto his.

The kiss weakens his defences. For a moment, you do feel his nails bruising your skin, but another second later, his touch is as soft as a feather. He’s so ultimately at your mercy that he lets you trace his abs and kiss his pecs.

Lets you get into a crouch, your palms settling below his chest for support. And then… then you navigate north and south, repeatedly, fucking him into you with vigour. He throws his head back, but then looks at you again, blinking fast before his eyes squint shut once more.

“The fuck are you—” he tries, but you start circling his cock again, moving in eight-curves, seeking support in his biceps.

“What?” you voice. “Not good?”

“You fucking— kidding me?” His lower lip trembles when he parts his mouth. You see it even with the lights dimmed. “This is such… a good fucking pussy. I was an idiot to push you aside.”

You’re too dazed to really pout, but you do hear the undertone; ask to clarify, “You’re just saying that f-for… getting my pussy, huh?”

“What— no. Fuck no. Look at me.” His hand reaches out, fingers poking into your cheeks, and he pulls you down to him, makes you meet his eyes. You slow down. “I wouldn’t just do this for any pussy— I… not with you. I don’t just. I don’t just go home with anybody. ‘Kay?”

His words bloom in your chest like a bouquet of flowers. In such a vulgar moment, you shouldn’t be feeling like this, but you can’t help but acknowledge the warmth spreading throughout your body. Burning up your already aflame muscles.

You want to know more; so you query sneakily, “What does this mean?”

“What it means?” he echoes, words blurry, as if drunk. “That you’re beautiful. And… honestly, kind of cool. So annoying but so fucking funny and— hot—”

“I am? Look at this,” you say, still moving but tired; touching his face, his cheeks, his sweet nose, “look at you…”

“No.” He grits his teeth. You don’t know what comes over him, but he’s inhaling way too deeply, lightly aggressive again as he retorts, “Look at fucking you.”

And with that, he gets what he desired earlier; flips you over, climbing over you. With your shield lowered, you didn’t expect this, and now you’re right where you began. And for some reason, the sharp jaw, the furrowed eyebrows, the starved look hits you even harder than before.

The many inches he sports fell out as he took over, but as he plunges into you again with embarrassing ease, something feels different. How he looks at you. How he touches you, pushing your hair back, kissing your lips with such softness.

And how he holds you when you finally see the stars you waited for, his face in your neck, his thumb on your cheek, his palm on your jaw. Kissing your shoulder, delighted as you seek an anchor in his back, tightening around him impossibly as he fucks you through your high and your broken moans.

“Jungkook—” you repeat over and over, and in return, he mutters constant, “I know, I know.”

Again and again and again until his sounds become more uncurbed. Only syllables, rumbling, his chest vibrating against yours until he lifts himself up and retracts his cock.

His pupils shake as he jerks himself off, and you know what he’s seeking, quickly getting to your knees, helping out. You replace his hand with yours, sticking out your tongue before you engulf his dick rapidly.

In surprise, he lets out, “Oh, fff—”

Shit, how he sounds. And how wicked he feels in your mouth, tasting like you, tasting like him. Wet and slippery, his balls hard when you cup them. And then— a mere moment later, he’s shooting ropes of white down your throat.

You’ll never get used to the feeling. You didn’t with your exes, didn’t with any other guy you’ve been with. It’s sudden, your gag reflex kicking, but you don’t want to stop until he has.

Sticky and hot, you let him; look up to him. His jaw glimmers due to the sheen of sweat, and he holds your hand to keep himself upright. Nearly growls when he’s done, and then calms down bit by bit. Pulls out of you. Plumps back onto his ass.

Catches his breath; and once the two of you have relieved your burning lungs, you with your legs under your butt, you look at each other again. A sudden laugh. He lets his head drop onto his shoulder, and then shakes it before getting back on his knees, nearing your joyous form.

The last kiss of the night is endlessly more chaste. No tongue, no making out. Just a couple pecks, a hand around the nape of your neck, noses grazing. Once, twice. And then, he’s smiling again.

You tell him, “Can’t believe this actually happened.”

“Crazy… right?”

“Crazy, yeah. We…” You gulp. “We can leave it right here, though. Guess we were both riled up.”

He nods, humming, looking to the side. “We could. But we don’t have to. It felt too good to forget, you know?”

You gleam and glow; if you could, you’d curl your fingers into fists, screeching like an excited high schooler in her room, acknowledged by a crush. But you only press your lips together, corners twitching up, cheeks hot.

Then, you say, “You know what… I might just agree.”

“Good.” Another one of his stares to the side, through the door of the room. “You think we should very quickly and very harmlessly use Jieun’s shower? She probably wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t think she would. But she’d certainly know what happened.”

“Least of our concerns,” he argues, getting up stark naked. He pats your thigh and then tugs at your arm, adding, “We’ll be tidy. And then we can rest a bit and leave. Am too fired up anyway.”

You know things might change again once you’ve slipped into your clothes and walked out into the night air. Perhaps the passion was reserved for this very room, actually a result of unbridled lust and tension.

But you think it’s okay. It’s okay as you giggle in the shower, flirting and bantering.

Because even if you part from Jeon Jungkook and all this as just a saccharine memory, you’re ready to seize just a little more of this stolen moment before reality sets back in.

5:12AM, Him

Whether it’s the numbers glowing on his digital watch or the fact that the two of you didn’t rest as much as you’d anticipated after all, he doesn’t know.

The residual heat of the past hour has warmed his body and relaxed his muscles; your touches still haunt him, crawling over his skin and sitting on his knees, tempting them to buckle. And your voice, your sounds… like a ghost in his mind.

And you urging him to climb the nearby hill with you, surprisingly steep, doesn’t help. He doesn’t know why you’d choose such a place at such an hour. The occasional forest around you is dark, chirping, and the road is empty.

Perhaps you feel secure in the presence of another; in this sense, it’s even flattering that you trust him this much.

But he’ll admit that his still wobbly condition and this stop of the night are slowly bringing him to his limits. The blazer, at least, is already hanging over his arm, giving him more space to breathe.

You’re piloting the way, careful, navigating with the help of the light beaming from the occasional street lamps. Jungkook sighs in a half-complaint when the road doesn’t end, nobody around far and wide.

You’re similarly out of breath when you turn to look over your shoulder, barely for a moment before you continue to escort him further up. Then, you encourage, “Come on! We just rested. How are you already tired?”

“Woman. We’ve been walking for a pretty long time.”

“Uhmmm,” you exclaim, swaying when you pull your hair over your left shoulder, “tell me something. What’s your sleep schedule usually like?”

Well, shit.

Jungkook can already tell what you’re referring to, but the counterargument already sits ready in his brain, just in case. Yet, he hesitates. Studies his surroundings to make sure he knows the way back, stalling on purpose, and when you ask, “And?”

He answers, “Uh. Late. I slept at 7AM just last week.”

“What?!” Your voice is high-pitched, in disbelief, and whatever point you wanted to make is stuck in your throat upon the revelation he divulged. “Holy shit, Jungkook.”

“Yeah, but like,” he immediately works on justifying, making use of the comeback he’d already thought out, “I don’t walk around town, you know? I spend these nights eating or singing or—”

“Woah. You sing?”

“Yes, but. I will not sing to you now.”

He catches up with you in one long step, regarding your countenance. Even in the dim light and the pitch dark, he recognises the roll of your eyes, as if to say, “I wasn’t even going to ask.”

But instead of vocalising that very overt thought, your answer comes as smoothly as silk, “It’s fine. You sang to me plenty tonight.”

Jungkook nearly chokes on his spit, disguising his surprise as in the hike reasoned exhaustion. His mind needs a moment to fix itself, but when the balance is restored again, he wisecracks, “You’re one to talk. May I remind you of what you sounded like earlier?”

“You can. But I do remember myself, thank you.”

Damn it. You’re a step ahead all the time. He can’t even outsmart you the way he wants to.

“Way to diss me. You’re hardcore,” he complains, “and here I thought you were kind and sweet and all of that.”

Jungkook nearly retracts his statement, because you throw such a perplexed and disbelieving stare back that he shrinks, reprimanded, “Can’t I be both? A woman can certainly be both, man.”

“Of course,” he agrees, hands up as if he’s being arrested, “of course. You’re both, for sure.”

He anticipates more scolding and scowls, but it seems you’re satisfied with the response he gives. You grant him a pleased, lopsided smirk that resembles his own, and then sigh into the night air, long and deep before your breath morphs into—

A mixture of a gasp and a shriek.

“Wh—” Jungkook blurts, barely registering the movement scurrying from the left side of the forest into the trees right of him. “The fuck.”

And just as fast as your gasp appeared, it diminishes, too, turning into a throaty laugh. Jungkook listens in to the echo of the rustles, still seeing the bushes move; whether because of the animal that just flit past or the breeze, he can’t say.

His eyebrows shoot up when he looks at you, coming down from the quiet chuckle, and he only realises that your elated joy stems from the way he’s standing right now.

He must’ve instinctively dashed forward, an arm in front of your body, shielding it with his. It was just a squirrel, and in all honesty, it is the two of you who are trespassing, disturbing the forest life with your presence at such a time.

Yet, his reaction must’ve been immediate enough to protect you from whatever loomed in the dark, and you seem to like it for some reason. Because as he clears his throat and lets his arm sink, all you comment is a fascinated, content, “Wow.”

“Uh… all good.”

“Yes. All good indeed.”

Your voice is tinged with a combination of gratification and tease, as if you’re one utterance away from adding a little, “My knight in shining armour.”

Instead, you bite your tongue and look around; Jungkook sees what you perceive a mere moment later. The surroundings clear, the forest less dense; on the left side, a vast opening appears, a wide path ending in a… cliff?

And behind that, the town.

If there was a soundtrack to his life, he’d probably hear violins playing right now. Reminiscent of the wind, perhaps accompanied by piano keys that sound like the softly glimmering stars above.

The picture is breathtaking. Not that he hasn’t been at such a spot before — he grew up in a big, mountainous city.

But since he didn’t expect for the hill’s peak to allow such art, he’s a little more overwhelmed than he expected to be.

From behind, he hears you say, “In any case. Let’s rest here?”

“Uh-huh.”

It’s hard to avert his eyes. All night long, he’s only felt like this once; this marks the second time.

Gratefully, he walks up to where you’re making yourself comfortable, flattening your dress and settling your bag on your lap. You pull a thin, short cardigan out of it, slipping into it. It’s certainly cooler up here.

And then, you pat the spot next to you, and he lets himself fall with a sigh; it’s been a long night, and despite the restful-not-restful hour you spent at Jieun’s, it feels as though he’s truly easing up just now.

Jungkook puffs out a breath and takes another look. Properly this time, blinking as if this could help his eyes focus better. Gorgeous. He can see the river from here, flowing through the town in curves, like a snake.

He can’t see the entire city, but most of it; it goes up and down. Skyscrapers and then cosy houses like the ones before again. Mountains far away and the lights of the amusement park somewhere in the east. They’re the brightest of them all.

“Wait,” he says; you oblige, waiting, watching as he heaves the camera out of his bag.

He only registers you from his side vision, but he thinks you’re wearing a smile; confirmed when you breathe to speak again, and his eyes drift to you, immediately decoding the pride in your sparkling pupils.

Why do you look proud? Then again, he guesses he would, too, if he showed you something that he loved and you enjoyed it, too.

Thinking about it, he kind of wants to do it someday.

He pulls at his lower lip, releasing it soon, blinking again as if to release the thought. Instead, he listens as you ask, “You’ve never been here before?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Hidden spot then.”

“It’s beautiful. Look there,” he points to a spot that you carefully follow, even squinting an eye shut; it makes him smile. “That’s the ferris wheel in the amusement park. Can you see? Wait.”

The camera comes to use when he points the lens at the direction he signalled towards, nimble hands working on zooming in. The picture unfocuses before the lights of the amusement park flicker again.

It’s late, he thinks; then again, the summer is coming to an end, the last nights used to keep such attractions open late. September will bring forth grey clouds again, leaving behind the prior season’s heat. Raining down on him, forcing the leather jacket out of his closet.

He likes it that way.

No offence to the summer whatsoever; but he likes the fresh gust dishevelling his soft hair. Likes it when the rain patters against the window glass so softly. He sleeps better that way, too.

Barely sitting for a moment, Jungkook already gets to his feet, nearing the edge until he’s kneeling on the ground. The distance has only faded by a couple feet, not much of a difference. But the feeling of the city nearing still persists somehow, tickling his mind just right.

He doesn’t know how long he squats there against the backdrop of the luminescent sea, but when he comes back to you, you’re still sporting that excited smile, eyebrows high. Your eyes fall to the camera, humming when he says, “Look. There.”

He magnifies the picture, every spot of it good enough to pin against the living room wall. Carefully, he hands you the camera; surprising, because he regards this pricey piece of plastic as sacred. You probably don’t know how big of a deal it is that he lets you handle it.

If you did, you’d never let him live it down.

You scoot closer, your temple now nearly touching his. You stare with an interest he hasn’t witnessed too often before. People do not care much about pictures of scenery; in the age of media, how could they anyway? When every stock picture is already memorised and used to the point of insignificance?

But you — your mouth parts as you switch around, taking in details.

“Good?” he asks.

“Beautiful,” you sincerely mutter, returning the camera to him. You hold it like a kitten; perhaps you do know what the gesture meant. “This is exactly why I wanted us to come here.”

The moment is so serene, like balm, and he nods along with your words, calmly conversing. So it takes a heartbeat to truly untangle your words in his mind and tie them with the meaning your intention conveys.

He assumed you were just showing him random spots of the town, to allow him a glimpse into your mind and to crack your true nature. All this time, he thought you wanted to lead him to bright spaces to lighten up his perception of you.

But what you’re doing instead is turn the spotlight towards him and what he loves.

“You… did it for me?” he asks.

You, casually, as if the thoughtful act doesn’t flood him with serotonin, reply, “Yeah. To capture a couple pretty pictures. You really do love it, so.”

“I do… wow, thanks.” He pauses. Looks down to the buttons on his camera, to his hands; then back to you. “You thought of it all, right? The nice places and the short rest at Jieun’s. Now this.”

“Hmm, tried as much as possible so spontaneously.”

“Thank you. Really.”

You return his gratitude with a polite nod, leaning away until you touch the backrest of the bench. Jungkook indulges in some more that nature offers, toying with the settings, zooming in just to observe sights from a closer point.

He doesn’t notice when you sigh or when you zone off; or when your thoughts shift back to the minutes and hours of the night. He doesn’t notice; and in return, you don’t know that he’s still thinking about the intention that brought him here; that you were attentive enough to truly show that some people appreciate art.

There aren’t only fleeting nights and then forgotten memories. Because this… this right here is a core memory.

Because of you.

Are you thinking the same? Are you proud that his enmity has faded, replaced by a tender smile? Satisfied that your efforts were worth it after all — a goal reached that you set for yourself earlier tonight.

Let me show you pretty places until the sun comes up, and if you still hate me by then, I will never talk to you again.

But…

He’d love to talk to you again.

However, your mind hasn’t quite drifted in this direction; in truth, he honestly can’t analyse or interpret you at all, because the question you pose next is far from what he’d been thinking about.

“Talking about pretty… uhm. Did you think Jieun was pretty?”

Jungkook blinks. One eyebrow cocks up; the camera drops back onto his lap. He flashes you a squinted look, a confused laugh erupting before he asks back, “What?”

“Ah, don’t lie. She’s very pretty.”

“Sure? She is.”

He’s nearly forgotten what she looked like. But beauty is still perceived and remembered — he guesses he found her good-looking.

“And she’s everyone’s type,” you prod, “what do you think, though? If she didn’t have a boyfriend, could you imagine liking her?”

Jungkook thinks about it. Not because he wants to, but because you seem to have found an odd interest in whatever attracts him; maybe your questions are leading up to something. So he’ll play along.

“Hmm… Maybe,” he answers.

“So she is your type.”

Or maybe, you’re trying to get something out of him that you want to hear specifically. You seem so shy about it all of a sudden; not necessarily an adjective he’d assign to you.

And coming from you of all people, he somehow does not find the topic interesting. It’s weird; he doesn’t want to talk about it; he doesn’t care about Jieun, either.

So he shrugs his shoulders indifferently, lifting his camera up again. He points it at you, eternalising your surprised expression just when you open your mouth to leave out a shocked, “Hey!”

“That’s what you get for asking such strange stuff.”

“It’s not strange! I’m just small-talking.”

“You do not small-talk.”

“It could be a deeper conversation if you just admitted it.”

He chuckles, turning his body towards you, half his leg on the bench, “Admit what?”

“The type thing!”

“Sure. I don’t just have one type, though, you know?”

The dispute brought your bodies a little closer, your face far enough for him to still identify his surroundings, but near enough for him to see your eyes twinkling. The light is dancing in them. And it’s much easier to focus on it when you silence like this.

Just for a second.

Because you breathe in again ten seconds later, lightly slapping the thigh resting on the bench. The touch is cursory, tiny, nothing to overthink about — but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want it to linger.

In some way, it still does.

You ask, “Okay? What are your types then?”

“Different girls.” This time, only one shoulder shoots up. His eyes match his pensive hum. “Whoever suits me. Pretty girls but also nice girls. Especially nice girls.”

“Alright, be honest,” you begin, mimicking his position until your leg lifts onto the bench, knee nearly touching his. You’re warming up now. Finally spitting the true question soon, “Do you think I’m pretty?”

Cute.

But he’s not giving in this easily.

He smirks; he feels the dimple on one side of his lopsided smile the moment you look at it. You’re distracted enough — so he uses the mental absence to attack you with yet another picture.

For a couple blinks, you’re startled — but as he reacts to his own nonsense with a content chortle, proud of his prank, you sigh. His shoulders rise with his sneering joy, head low as he inspects the picture just taken on his camera.

He zooms into your face, mouth open and eyes wide. You do look so pretty, he thinks — better even since you washed most of your make up off. Yet, he can’t contain himself when he shows you the screen, telling you, “You look alright.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes and your gaze to the view; your giggles start quietly, and then mix with his. Before—

They soon become part of a bad harmony as more voices join your very own night. Somebody is nearing. Jungkook hears the laughter already, but the road is curved and dark; so he can’t see them yet.

You might not have expected this, because you push closer to Jungkook on reflex; just at the same time as him. He didn’t know he had it in him to always stay so alert around you. Ready to throw himself at intruders.

Crazy.

But once the voices grow in volume, the two of you are soon met with a couple walking past. They’re in love, because amidst their titter, there’s another lewd sound. Or maybe, not too bad; playful kisses?

Yes.

The guy — he’s smooching his girl’s cheek, releasing with a, “Mwah” each time. Your initial surprise soon fades and turns into delight; Jungkook sees it in the way your smile returns. And in the furrowed yet amused eyebrows…

When the couple spots the two of you, they gasp; the girl’s hand immediately bolts to her chest, as if she just encountered a wild boar. But she catches herself soon, apologising, “Oh. Sorry. We’re sorry.”

You respond with an, “It’s okay!” Jungkook shakes his head politely to shrink their worries. They’ve walked away as soon as they came, but he still hears the woman’s scolding, effect lessened by the still occurring belly laugh, “I told you to calm yourself—”

As the world quietens again, Jungkook huffs, tilting his head as he deduces, “So late and yet… Not much of a hidden spot after all.”

“It feels like an ancient hill to me. I don’t often meet others here.” You breathe in the wind, then tongue your cheek. “They probably didn’t even notice where they were going. People in love never do.”

“I guess so.”

He guesses so.

It’s been a while since he fell in love.

Your head bobs once more before you lose yourself in the skyline, sucking in more of the crisp air that’ll grace you in the upcoming months. Fall is upon the town. He inbreathes the peace, too.

His hands operate on their own; one last time, he lifts it towards you, peeks through the lens again, adjusting the focus until the object clicks again. You’re not looking at him; he caught your side profile, this time not out of mock or tease.

He means it. And you seem to know.

Because when you look at him this time, you’re not mad or irritated.

Only look at him softly, a smile that truly matches the heights you took him on.

READ BELOW!!

the fic isn't over yet – as always, tumblr has a 1k block limit that makes our lives harder than necessary lmao. read the last scene and the remaining 3k words of meraki here 🥰

#jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook smut #bts smut #jeongguk smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts x you #bts imagines #jungkook fic #jungkook

5K notes · View notes

spideyjimin · 3 months ago

Text

effet mer | jjk

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

⏤ pairing: jungkook x female reader

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

⏤ rating: 18+

⏤ words: 11,197

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

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

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

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

MASTERLIST | MOODBOARD

The waves.

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

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

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

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

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

It’s hard. Way too hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They do fantastic pizzas here,” you say once the waiter leaves. “I came here once with my friends and promised myself I’d come here again.”

“Let’s see,” a little smile appears on Jungkook’s face.

For a hot minute, he stares at you while you look down at the menu.

Since the moment, he met you he always believed his little brother was in love with you. He couldn’t stop talking about you with such a spark in his eyes. However, as time went by, he realized he was wrong, or at least partially. His eyes have a spark because he adores you as a friend and because you seem to be a wonderful person. There is something about you that is appealing, Jungkook won’t deny it.

In the past 24 hours, he’s got to learn a bit more about you. Even though it’s pretty obvious you’re still trying to get over a breakup, you’ve been immensely excited to be here and show him around the places you know. And he’s been lucky to see a bright spark in your eyes. You’re without any doubt in love with this coastal town, he can tell that.

The pizzas were, as you remember, fucking delicious. Jungkook even admitted it afterward.

Funnily enough, during dinner, you got to discuss with the owner, who was also acting as a waiter. He’s actually french. He came here once, fell in love with the town, and decided to move here. He then opened this restaurant with his mother, and luckily, it’s always crowded. It can be calmer during periods but it’s always for a short time.

“Not sure I’ll want to come back home after this stay,” Jungkook tells you as you’re making your way to the little apartment you’re staying in.

“Me neither,” you say.

The only thought of leaving this place breaks your heart. Once you get back home, reality will hit you. You’ll once more be reminded of your lost love. Maybe the pain will be more bearable as you’ve taken some time for yourself here in Nazaré.

The rest of the walk until the apartment is made in silence while you look around. Everything about this place screams perfection. The people, the food, the views, the tiny houses, the sea, and everything else. Nazaré will now be your safe place on earth. It’ll be the place you’ll always look forward to coming again. Strangely, it feels like you belong here.

When you’re not very far from the apartment, it starts raining, and not just a bit. The two of you put the hood of your jackets on your heads.

“Let’s run to the apartment?” Jungkook asks.

The only answer you gave him is starting to run.

“Eeeh,” he screams while he starts running after you. “Wait for me.”

A little chuckle escapes your lips when you hear him complain. Since you run in the opposite direction of the rain, it hits you right in the face. It’s not pleasant at all, but you’ll soon reach the place you’re renting. But running in the middle of those tiny streets with Jungkook behind you makes you feel alive.

In a matter of seconds, Jungkook catches you. For a brief moment, you look at each other with the brightest smiles on your faces. You’re both feeling the same, you know it. Your roommate grabs your hand while you keep running under the heavy rain. He holds your hand tightly in his, the warmth of his hand contrasting with the cold weather outside.

Feeling his hand in yours unimaginably warms your heart.

When you reach the apartment, you both stop at the main entrance. Briefly, you’re standing face to face, breathing hard, and staring deep into each other’s eyes. Over the years, you didn’t really have the opportunity to see him up close, but lately, it feels like you’ve only been physically close.

This closeness has allowed you to really look at him. Although Jungkook looks a lot like your best friend, he’s more attractive, charming, and alluring. This man can have any woman he desires, but he chooses not. It’s understandable due to his recent breakup. But based on how Joongki speaks about him, he’s never been a womanizer. He’s more of an ‘i want a long-term relationship’ guy.

Jungkook’s hand brushes a strand of hair falling on your face. The simple touch of his fingers against your skin sends shivers down your spine. The two of you don’t cease to stare into each other eyes. This simple and intimate moment is something you never thought would happen five years ago.

Well, even yesterday, you never thought it’d happened.

You’re interrupted by someone leaving the apartment complex standing in front of you. By reflex, you take a step back, creating some space between you and Jungkook. The person greets you before disappearing behind you.

Before the main entrance door closes, Jungkook takes a big step to keep it open. “After you,” he smiles at you while he gestures for you to come inside the complex. A smile spreads across your face as you make your way inside. When you pass by him, you take in his strong perfume. He smells so good.

Joongki’s brother follows you, closing the door behind him. The apartment is located on the first floor so luckily, you only have to climb a few steps. You hurry up because you only want to be warm.

Once in front of the door, you take the keys from your pocket. Your winter jacket contains a massive pocket on the inside. You’ve placed all your important belongings like your phone, ID Card, bank card, and the keys. At least you’re sure you won’t lose anything nor anything won’t be stolen.

Once inside, the first thing you do is remove your jackets, and shoes. It’s a bit warmer inside but you still need to turn on the heating. The two of you head to the small living room.

The place you rent isn’t big, but it’s enough for you. There’s no need to have a massive apartment for two people. Two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a bathroom are largely enough. No need for more.

The owner of the apartment left some portuguese liqueurs for you to enjoy. He advised you to start with ‘Licor Beirão’. As the owner said, it’s a sweet liqueur that tastes like orange. You haven’t tasted it yet but tonight you feel like you really want to.

“Do you want to taste the famous liqueur the owner advises us to taste?” you ask Jungkook as you grab the bottle from a wardrobe.

For a brief moment, Jungkook simply watches you while you hold the bottle in your hand. The look he gives you makes you feel a bit special as it is the same look he gave you at the complex entrance.

“Why not,” he replies with a smile.

Your roommate goes to the kitchen to grab two glasses. He remembers that the owner told you to put a cube of ice in your drink to make it even better. He said: “Licor Beirão without ice tastes like shit.” A smirk appears on his face when he recalls those words.

When he comes back with the glasses, you don’t waste any second to poor a bit of liqueur. You hand one of the glasses to your roommate and take the other. While you both take a seat on the couch, you take a sip of your drink.

“Fuck,” Jungkook says. “It’s delicious.”

A little laugh escapes your lips as you hear him slobber about the drink. Your eyes wander a tiny bit on his face.

“Indeed,” you say.

It’s certainly not bad at all. It’s also not that strong for a liqueur, maybe the sweetness hides the hardness of the alcohol. Probably, you won’t be drinking much since you don’t really want to end up drunk in front of Jungkook. You’ll for sure embarrass yourself.

“This will definitely warm me after this cold rain,” Jungkook says while taking another sip.

You put your drink down on the coffee table before sitting properly on the couch and placing a blanket on top of your legs.

“It’s still unbelievable that we’re here,” you tell him.

“Yep, yep,” he nods and takes another sip. “I would have never bet that one day, I’d travel with you.” He puts down his drink next to yours and sits closer to you.

This closeness is something you still need to adjust to. It’s so new.

“Me neither,” you say. “I actually never pictured myself traveling with someone else than Guwon,” you almost whisper at the end of the sentence.

Guwon was your boyfriend for more than five years. You were dreaming of starting a family with him, seriously considering moving in with him and already discussing marriage. You were madly in love with him and you strongly believed that he was your forever person. But you got it all wrong.

One day, out of the blue, he told you that he didn’t love you anymore. It devastated you beyond comprehension. You begged for an explanation because how can someone fall out of love? It was inconceivable for you that after all that time, he stopped loving you. He didn’t give you an explanation, he just said he didn’t love you anymore.

However, everything made sense when you found out he was dating a colleague shortly after your breakup. When that colleague joined the company he’s working for, you still remember that he wouldn’t stop talking about her. He praised her so much. Until one day, he stopped doing it. But right after, he told you he didn’t love you anymore so no need to be a genius to understand he started loving her.

It hurt even more.

“I also never thought I’d be one day traveling with someone else than Yoojung,” he adds.

You bring your legs against your chest and you look down for a little bit. There are so many questions you want to ask him about his breakup but you’re not sure it’s appropriate.

“Can I ask you a question?” you dare to say.

Jungkook simply nods while looking at you.

“How did you find out about the cheating?”

Your roommate is taken aback by your question. As you notice the expression on his face, you instantly realize that you crossed a line. Now you regret your question.

“Sorry…” Before you can even continue your sentence, Jungkook replies to your question.

“A couple of months before, we stopped being intimate,” he starts saying while looking down. “Every time I’d try to initiate anything, she’d give me an excuse. Most of the time, it’d be tiredness. Then, we slowly started not to see or even text each other as often.”

His eyes now look up, meeting yours filled with sadness and empathy. The same gaze you gave him when he informed you of his separation.

“At first, I didn’t really notice it, but when people started asking me about her, I’d never be able to give them an answer. So I started to realize something was off.”

You can hear in his voice how it still breaks him.

“One day, I simply went to her place without informing her, and that’s when I saw the other guy.”

Now, your heart breaks for him. In an act of kindness, you grab his hand and squeeze it. Jungkook looks down at your hands, and you gently stroke the back of his hand with your fingers. From the way he suddenly glances at you, you can tell that the gesture moves him.

“That must have been horrible,” you softly say.

The man in front of you simply nods.

“Thankfully, I didn’t see anything that would have destroyed me but you could tell by the way they were looking at each other that they were at least sleeping together. She confessed it afterwards and I left her.”

Definitely, you want to hug this man. It’s so heartbreaking what he went through. It’s never easy to find out to have a cheating partner. Even though you never considered Guwon to have cheated on you, you wonder if he didn’t. Maybe he kissed his colleague or even went further and left you afterward.

“Apparently she’s with that guy now, but I don’t care,” he tells you. “I prefer to ignore what she’s doing now and who she’s with.”

You couldn’t agree more with him. She and Guwon have broken your hearts enough, no need to torture yourselves in knowing what they are doing now.

“All I care is to heal,” he whispers.

You caress his hand with your thumb. Although you’re doing it to comfort him, it also has the same effect on you.

“Looks like you’re going in the right direction,” you tell him with a little smile. “You didn’t cry.”

Barely a week ago, he wasn’t able to say her name without falling apart. It’s a big step into healing.

A very tiny smile spreads across his face when he realizes that you’re right. He didn’t cry while talking about the most heartbreaking moment he faced in life.

“You’re right,” he grabs his drink to take a sip. “It’s even better now with the ice,” he totally changes the topic of conversation.

You can’t blame him, talking about his cheating ex isn’t pleasant. Plus, you’re here to try to move on from the terrible things Guwon and Yoojung did.

“Let me taste,” Jungkook hands you your drink before you can even bend to get it from the table. “Thanks,” you whisper with a little shy smile.

Your roommate winks at you as a way to say ‘you’re welcome’, but oddly, it increases the heat of the room. Very quickly, you drink a bit of the liquor. It instantly cools off a bit the warmth you’re feeling inside you due to Jungkook.

The liqueur definitely tastes better with ice. The owner was right. Well, you never doubt it since he’s portuguese and knows his country better than anyone else. You’re looking right in front of you since you’re feeling Jungkook’s eyes on you. You’re not brave enough to face him because you know your cheeks will instantly turn red.

“You know,” he starts saying. “For a long time, I was convinced you and my brother were in love,” you almost choke with your drink when you hear those words. “You’d always be together, almost acting like a couple, but then I found out you were in a relationship so it changed my perspective,” he adds. “Also with time, I realized that it was your way to be friends.”

You’ve been friends with Joongki for more or less six years, but only a couple of months later, you got to actually meet Jungkook. Of course, you’d already heard a lot about him since your best friend would mention him a lot, but he was living abroad back then.

And well, if you’re a hundred percent honest, you had a crush on Joongki when you met him. How could you not? Joongki is very good-looking, he’s funny, he’s adorable, and, beyond anything else, he has the biggest heart on earth. Then, that crush eventually faded, and you met Guwon so everything changed.

However, you’re never going to say anything about this crush, especially to Jungkook.

Nevertheless, your reaction intrigues your roommate. Your eyes widen, you take a big sip of the liquor, and you try to hide your face.

“You actually liked my brother,” he points out with evident playfulness in his voice.

“No,” you immediately retort.

Obviously, it’s a lie. You’re trying as much as possible to hide yourself but it’s basically impossible. Jungkook is right next to you.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I won’t tell him anything, it’s none of my business.”

You finally look up at him, and for fuck’s sake, he looks stunning. You take another sip. At this pace, your drink will be over in 30 seconds, and you’ll be drunk by then since you don’t know how strong this liqueur is.

“I’m sure he had a crush on you too at first,” he smiles at you.

Jungkook gets closer to you, his breath crashing against your neck once he’s very close. Your heart starts acting crazy inside your chest, your heartbeat increasing drastically. You’re both staring at each other, and his eyes are very dark.

“I mean I would too if I was Joongki,” he whispers in your ear.

Fuck, this man manages to cause goosebumps all over your body in a matter of seconds. His eyes look up at you, the mood has completely changed. It’s not anymore casual, it’s really giving the ‘i want to kiss you’ vibes. But as you think better about this, it has changed the second it started to rain.

His eyes switch from your lips to your eyes a couple of times. Without any doubt, you do the same, you even bite your lower lip. You’re definitely desperate to kiss each other. There’s absolutely no doubt.

Still, you’re unsure if you really want this to happen. You enjoy being here with Jungkook and getting to know him better, but once you kiss, everything between you will change forever. He wouldn’t simply be your roommate and your best friend’s brother anymore.

Nevertheless, there’s nothing you want more right now.

You want to know how it feels to be kissed by him, and how it feels to kiss someone with a lip piercing. Your imagination is going wild at the moment.

You clear your throat and take a step back while placing your hands on his chest. “We can’t,” you shake your head. “It’s not a good idea.”

Jungkook nods before simply sitting on the couch as he was before. You take a deep breath, trying to gather yourself after this rather intense moment.

Jungkook stares at the ceiling of the bedroom he’s staying in. His mind keeps repeating the moment he almost kissed you. It was quite clear you wanted it as well, but he still doesn’t understand why you push him away. He wonders if it’s maybe too soon for you. Maybe you don’t want to kiss someone else three months after your breakup.

He sighs. Hopefully, this moment won’t create tension or something like that between you for the rest of your stay. It’s not what he wanted.

Suddenly, he is pulled out of his reverie when he hears a shy knock on the door. He frowns before standing up to open the door. He’s greeted by your sleepy face and messy hair. A little smile appears on his face because he can’t help but find you adorable.

“I can’t fall asleep,” you tell him while rubbing your eyes. “Can I sleep with you?”

Well, now that you’re here asking him to sleep here, he’s sure that he didn’t ruin anything. It’s definitely a relief for him.

“Yes, yes,” he says while opening the door a little wider.

Without hesitation, you enter the room and he closes the door behind you. He makes his way to the bed before you lay next to him. At first, you put some distance between you two since you’re both unsure what to do. On top of that, you’re both looking at the ceiling as if you’re scared to look at each other. Jungkook can feel his heart beating fast inside his chest. He has never been this nervous to be around a woman that he likes.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” you tell him while turning your face to look at him.

Honestly, this surprises him. “About what exactly?” Obviously, he knows what you’re referring to but he still wants you to say it out loud.

“When I pushed you away.”

Jungkook ignores what he can say right now.

“Don’t be sorry,” those are the only words crossing his mind.

Still, you keep talking as if he didn’t say anything. “I really wanted to kiss you.” His heart beats even faster now. “But if we do it, it will change everything between us, and I’m not sure I want that.”

Well, he’s glad you explained why you pushed him away although you didn’t need to. You have your reasons and he can only accept that. Jungkook turns now to his right to finally see your face. You look angelic from this perspective.

“Why so?” he dares to ask.

For what feels like an eternity, you don’t talk, probably thinking about the proper answer to give him. His heart is still hammering very fast in his chest, nervous about your answer. This silence feels heavy for him, but all he can do is remain patient.

“Honestly, I don’t really have a reason,” you say when you break the silence. “Up until now, we were simply roommates and you were Joongki’s brother,” you take a deep breath. “And it was fine like that.” Jungkook’s eyes deviate for a split second to your lips while you speak. “However, everything is different since we came here. You aren’t really a stranger anymore, I got to know you better and to spend good moments with you.”

Jungkook couldn’t agree more with you. No matter what, when you go back home, your relationship and dynamic will forever be different. In a good way, though. As you mentioned, you’re no longer strangers now.

“I’m not sure I’m ready for more changes in my life,” you confess while biting your lower lip.

But the changes are already happening.

“I totally understand you, yn,” he simply answers.

Well, the only change Jungkook wants right now is your relationship. It’s evolving in interesting ways and he doesn’t want to hold back this shift between you.

"A lot has already happened this past few months,” he adds.

For sure, he prefers things would have happened differently but what can he do? This year has been too chaotic. Being here in Nazaré right now is the only thing that has been able to calm him down. Just for a moment, he can cut himself off the reality to truly rest and heal.

Slowly, you get closer to him. You only stop when he can feel your hot breath crashing against his face. You’re super super close now. His eyes roam your pretty face, admiring it as much as he can under the light of the night. How could he not notice before how beautiful you are?

“But the more I think about it, the more I get desperate to kiss you,” your words echo in the room. This is as well unexpected for him. “I’m not sure of anything but fuck, I crave nothing more than to feel your…”

Before you can even finish your sentence, your roommate crashes his lips against yours. You’re caught by surprise at first, but then, you kiss him back with the same passion. Although it’s a passionate kiss, it’s very soft at first. Jungkook doesn’t want to rush anything, he wants to enjoy this moment. His left hand moves to your cheek, caressing it.

The kiss is so passionate and deep. Jungkook's lips are soft against yours like he is scared to break you as he kisses you. But they feel good on yours, it’s as if they were meant to kiss you.

As he’s kissing you, he regrets not having noticed you before. You’re hot, good-looking, intelligent, and above anything else, a wonderful person. For sure, he was in love with Yoojung, but he should have seen you before.

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate one second when you part your lips to let his tongue meet yours. Your tongues meet for an erotic and slow dance. This is intense, but so fucking good.

Out of breath, you break the kiss but your roommate’s hand remains on your cheek. You close your eyes briefly, and his eyes stay on you. Even though you’re not kissing anymore, he still can sense your lips on his.

Jungkook pushes you against him, your head against his toned chest. He places his head on top of yours after pressing a gentle kiss on your head. He’s not sure about what will happen from now on, but he’s certain of one thing, he doesn’t want to let you go.

Shortly after, you both fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Slowly, you open your eyes. The sun irradiates the room and at first, you close your eyes again as the sun is way too bright.

While you move in the bed, you rub your eyes before opening them again. Gradually, you perceive the figure lying in bed next to you. A smile spreads across your face when you realize it’s Jungkook.

The man is looking at you with the brightest smile on his face. He seems happier than ever. You haven’t seen him like that since his split with his ex-girlfriend. That alone makes you smile even more.

“Good morning,” he says.

“Good morning to you too,” you reply.

For a moment, you remain in silence, looking simply at each other. This right here definitely makes you happy. You don’t need anything else. Well, you still want to go watch the impressive waves, but you can stay here a little longer.

“How was your night?” he asks.

“Good,” you start saying. “I guess all I needed was a kiss to fall asleep,” the biggest smile appears on his absolutely handsome face.

“Well, you should try that more often,” he teasingly says.

“For sure,” you exclaim.

You’re sure that right now, you both look like idiots with the happiest smiles on your faces. You get closer to Jungkook before pressing a gentle peck against his lips. The feeling of the cold metal of his piercing against your lips sends shivers all over your body. It’s quite special to kiss someone with a lip piercing, it’s a first time for you, but it doesn’t change anything about the fact that he kisses like a god. Actually, you’d say that with the piercing it makes the kiss even more intense.

The man in front of you presses another peck on your lips before pressing a thousand others more, causing you to giggle. This sound, you haven’t heard it in months, and you’re grateful Jungkook is responsible for it.

Then, the kisses move to your cheeks, your forehead, your jaw, the corner of your lips, and finally, they start to descend to your neck. You can feel his round nose pressed against your neck as his lips kiss your skin. Instantly, your hands move to his hair to play with it. A very soft and barely audible moan escapes your lips.

This jovial and playful moment has turned into a very heated one.

Jungkook’s lips keep going down, dangerously getting closer to your cleavage. Your breath is getting heavier, your heart beating faster, and your eyes fluttering shut. As he gets closer and closer, soft moans leave your lips, indicating to Joongki’s brother that he’s doing everything well.

Before he even reaches your breasts, he retreats to take a look at your pretty face. When you feel the cold air brushing against your skin, you open your eyes to watch him. His teeth are now playing with the metal ring on his lips while his eyes are clearly devouring you. Dam, this is turning you on.

“Do we keep going?”

You’re about to answer when suddenly, his phone starts buzzing. Someone is trying to call him. He turns around to check who’s calling him.

“It’s Joongki,” he says before answering.

Jungkook sits on the bed, and you do exactly the same. The call doesn’t last long, your roommate barely talks, it’s mostly your best friend talking, you can hear it. Once he puts his phone down, he looks at you.

“He tried to call you, but since you weren’t answering, he was getting worried,” he tells you.

You only nod. “Maybe I should go call him,” you say.

“Well,” Jungkook says as his face gets closer to yours once more. “Maybe you could call him later,” he teasingly says. “He interrupted something.”

A smile appears on your face before you kiss him with evident passion. For sure, your best friend interrupted something, and he can wait because you’re slowly but surely getting desperate for his brother.

“He can probably wait a little bit longer,” you whisper against his lips.

Your teeth bite his lower lip, causing him to moan. That sound alone makes you grow wetter inside your panties. His hands move down to your waist, and before you can even comprehend, they are pushing your pajama pants down your legs.

Once they are at your ankle, his lips hungrily kiss you. You’re definitely desperate for this man. You want more. You don’t simply want to be kissed by this man. You want him to rail the shit out of you. Hopefully, he’s good in bed.

While eagerly kissing each other, you lay down in bed. Jungkook is now hovering over you, his mouth still on yours. By reflex, your legs open to welcome him after removing your pants with your feet. He presses his hips against yours, his growing bulge now against your wet core. That sensation alone makes you moan.

Teasingly, he slowly rolls his hips against yours, but he doesn’t stop kissing you as a desperate man. You hold his pajama shirt firmly as you moan against his lips. Without any doubt, your panties are getting soaked. Jungkook is fucking you when you’re still fully clothed.

His lips finally set free from yours so he can rest his forehead against yours. His lusty eyes stare deep into yours which causes you to moan. Your walls clench around emptiness, but you’re slowly getting desperate to feel something inside you.

Jungkook’s hips stop moving only for him to speak. “Sit on my face,” he says. “But first, remove your underwear, angel,” he adds.

No need to be a genius to understand that he wants to eat you out while you sit on his face. It’s something you never tried before so you’re not sure how this is supposed to go. However, you desire nothing more than being eaten out by this man so you do as he says so.

In a matter of seconds, you throw your underwear onto the floor. Jungkook moves to be now lying down in bed with an eager smile on his face. He bites his lower lip when he sees your core.

“I’ve never done that before,” you confess when you get closer to him.

“Okay,” he nods. “All you have to do is sit on my face and enjoy the ride, love,” he tells you.

The little cute nicknames make your heart flutter.

You place yourself over his head, your heart pounding fast. You feel a bit shy to have your pussy on full display on his face.

“Nice,” he tells you. “Now, bring yourself closer to my face,” you do as he says so, his hands grabbing your thighs to guide you down against his face. “Perfect,” his hot breath tickles your core which makes you move a tiny bit.

The sweet scent of your arousal makes him hungry, causing him to lick his lips. “Your cunt smells so good, yn,” he whispers against your core.

His nose brushes against your core, a small moan leaving your lips at the feeling. As he hears the barely audible moan, he deliberately breathes against your throbbing core, the cool air sending shivers down your spine. Slowly, you grow wetter which gives him more juices to lap. A smirk grows on his face when he notices it.

Before you can even process what is happening, he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking at it. The coldness of his lip piercing and the tickling of his nose on your core instantly send goosebumps throughout your entire body. Little moans leave your lips while he starts to torture you with his mouth. It surprises you how cold his piercing is.

This is by far the best oral sex experience you’ve ever had. First of all, nobody else has ever eaten you out like that. And on top of that, you’re wondering how on earth you’ve never done it this way. In this position, it feels like you can sense everything even more.

Automatically, you bury your hand in Jungkook’s hair, pulling it as he laps your sensitive clit with his tongue. A groan rumbles from his chest, the sound echoing against your skin. You close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of having his nose in your core. He makes sure to take his time as he wants you to grow wetter and wetter, he doesn’t want to rush things because he wants you two to enjoy this moment.

After a little while, he buries his tongue in your hole, causing an explosion of fireworks inside you. The man laps at your arousal as if his life was at stake. His eyes glance up at you, enjoying the way your body is contorting with delight. An evil smirk appears on his face while he keeps lapping at your juices. Your back arches, causing you to push your pussy closer to his mouth, and a trail of moans escapes your pretty lips.

“So pretty,” Jungkook mutters against your core.

Naturally, you start rolling your hips over his head, your hand running and pushing your hair back in order to not stick against your face as you start to sweat. The moans get louder as the wave of pleasure begins to strongly build within your lower stomach, his ears hissing at the sweet but loud sounds.

His eyes glance down with marvel at your core. Everything about you is extremely wonderful.

Jungkook senses the orgasm building stronger inside you at an extremely fast pace. Your body is moving more and more, your walls are clenching way too much, and your moans are also getting high-pitched. The man starts to suck harder on your core to make you come all over his face. That’s all he wishes for right now.

Your free hand goes to the headboard of the bed to hold yourself onto something. The man below you is sucking and lapping every single drop of your arousal, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. It’s a matter of seconds before you come undone all over his face.

“Jungkook,” you mutter as your hips desperately roll over his face.

The man underneath you detaches his mouth when your legs start shaking, indicating that your orgasm is finally hitting you intensely. His name leaves your mouth when the wave of pleasure explodes inside you, your back arching even more, and you close your eyes to enjoy every second of it.

Your arousal leaks over his pretty lips while he watches with marvel at the way you come over his face. This man is without any doubt very skilled with his mouth and tongue. Not only does he kiss well, but he also knows how to bring pleasure.

Jungkook moves under you, your core now pressed against his covered chest. It takes you a moment to come down from your high, he can even feel your walls clenching against his toned chest. His hands caress your hips, trying to bring you comfort as you come down. His eyes never leave your pretty face.

He swears he has never seen any prettier woman.

His hands are caressing your thighs as he admires you. Your cheeks are red, your hair is a complete mess, and your pretty lips are swollen from the intense making out that happened minutes ago.

When you realize that you’re dirtying his pajama with your arousal, you stand up but his strong hands firmly hold you tight against him. “What are you doing?” he asks with obvious confusion.

“I’m dirtying your pajamas,” you answer.

“Don’t worry about that, angel,” he winks at you.

Since you don’t want to make his pajamas dirtier and you want to give him pleasure, you move your body down on his. This time around, he realizes what you’re about to do. The simple thought of feeling your hand around him makes him grow harder.

Without an ounce of hesitation, you push down his pajamas pants with his underwear. He raises his hips to help you out, and you throw them on the floor. Once his cock is freed, it slaps against his shirt.

Your eyes instantly glance down at the beast between his legs. He is massive. Even massive is probably an understatement. For sure, he holds the record for the biggest dick you’ve ever seen. In a matter of seconds, Jungkook takes the last piece of clothing off his body to be fully naked in front of you.

You patiently wait for him to lay back on the bed so you can place yourself in between his toned legs, your hands running up and down his thighs. You bite your lips as you’re watching him getting naked. His body is very toned. His chest is broad as fuck, and his arm is fully covered in tattoos. This pretty much gives bad-boy vibes. Thankfully, you know that he isn’t one. Well, at least, he doesn’t seem to be one.

You also remove your top in order to be fully naked as well. It’s not as sexy as the way he removed his shirt, but you’re now naked together.

“Can I touch you?” you ask him, your eyes glancing up to meet his.

With his eyes locked with yours, he nods. He’s completely desperate to feel your fingers around him. Since you’re equally desperate to please him, you wrap your hand around the base of his dick.

His head is red, precum running down his length and over that prominent vein that lines it. You rub your thumb over the tip before going down on his shaft, spreading his arousal all over him. A deep moan escapes his lips as your hands finally touch him, his head falling completely on the pillow.

“Damn, angel,” he growls, “you’re touching me so fucking perfectly.”

A smile appears on your face at his words. Based on your ex words, you are very skilled with your hands so you hope to provide a lot of pleasure to Jungkook. You want to reward him with the same pleasure he granted you with his mouth.

Slowly, you start pumping him, your hand gliding up and down his length. A trail of groans leaves his lips while you pump him nice and slow. Every time your hand reaches the base, Jungkook shivers, loving how you’re touching him.

As you pump his massive length with your hands, you never stop glancing at him. There’s nothing more rewarding than seeing him melting in your hands.

It’s absolutely incredible to think that you’re sharing such an intimate moment. Barely a week ago it was inconceivable that you’d be here with him. So, this alone is a surprise. Yesterday night, while you were turning in your bed, you were only thinking about the kiss he almost gave you. And now, you’re basically having sex.

That’s incredible.

After a little while, you dip down to kiss the head of his cock, causing deeper and louder moans to leave his mouth. You lick his tip, his precum coating your tongue before you wrap your mouth entirely around his cock to fully sink down on his length.

“Shit, yn,” he groans, loving the warmth of your mouth around him.

He swears that he’s about to fall apart, painting your throat white with his seed. For a little while, your head bobs up and down his length, your tongue twirling along to try to satisfy him as much as possible. Your roommate closes his eyes while he lets his pleasure overwhelm him.

When he opens his eyes, he’s graced with your filthy eyes staring up at him. He never knew that he desperately needed to see you looking at him like that. That sight alone makes him bust right there, his hot seed filling that pretty mouth of yours. You swallow every single drop of his hot cum, but your eyes never leave his face as he groans loudly.

Jungkook looks incredibly hot when he has an orgasm.

Slowly, he comes down from his high, your mouth leaving his cock to just watch him being completely overwhelmed with his orgasm. He looks like an absolute angel but clearly, an angel that seems to have had his cock sucked. His hair is already messy, and his lips are all wet with your arousal, which honestly looks pretty good on him.

“Would you want to keep going?” he asks with his heavy breathing.

The simple fact that he raises the question melts your heart. Your ex never did that before. Once you’d start, he would just keep going without checking if you’d want to stop or not. Well, obviously, you never wanted him to stop. But now, you wished he could have asked it.

It’s pretty obvious you want more but he still wants to make sure you want it. He’s not going to force you to do anything, he has never been like that. After you pushed him away yesterday, he honestly expected you to do the same as things started to get steamy.

You crawl over his body so both your faces are close. For a brief moment, you just glance at each other. You bend down, your face getting closer to his ear, “yes, I want it,” you whisper with a smile on your face.

Jungkook bites his lower lip, he’s having goosebumps all over his body. “I didn’t bring any condom,” he informs you. “I wasn’t expecting this to happen.”

If he knew beforehand that you’d have sex, he would have bought a hundred condoms. He would have used all your free time to fuck you senseless. But this is highly unexpected.

“Don’t worry,” you say. “I have a vaginal ring.”

For years, you’ve been trying different birth control. At first, it was the pill, but very quickly you changed to the vaginal ring since it felt better than the pill.

You press a sweet kiss on his lips. A sincere smile grows on his face, he’s so happy to be here today with you. With your hands, you grab his little monster before brushing it against your pussy. A whimper leaves his lips while he shuts his eyes close. Slowly, you sink down onto his cock.

A deep moan leaves your mouth as his massive dick stretches you out, your hands falling on his chest to balance yourself. His large hands find their way to your waist, caressing your soft skin while his doe eyes filled with lust look into yours. Both of you groan as he slowly pushes his long and thick cock deeper inside you.

“You’re so big,” you whisper.

“If it’s too big, we can stop,” he proposes.

“Eeeh,” you slap his chest. “There’s no way we stop here, Jungkook.”

Jungkook giggles at your words, his face lighting up when he does so. He’s incredibly beautiful when he’s smiling.

You sit on his lap with his cock almost completely inside you, your eyes looking down at him with a bright smile on your face. Jungkook licks his lips, loving to have this beautiful sight in front of him. At this precise moment, he’s wondering why you both lost your time with your exes. This is a hundred times better than all the times he had sex with his ex, and it’s only the beginning.

Very slowly, you start rolling your hips, causing small whimpers to leave his lips. His eyes never leave you as he wishes you to see him starting to melt down under your slow torture.

“You’re riding me like a pro, yn,” he compliments you, letting you also know that you’re doing it right.

“Thanks,” you sincerely say.

Riding your ex is something you wouldn’t do that often, but you’d enjoy it when it happened.

“But,” he starts saying. “I don’t want this to be any slow.” His hands hold your hips tightly allowing him to turn both your bodies to have you now under him.

“Eeeeh,” you say as he places you under him.

His lips find yours for another kiss, the taste of your juice being all over his soft lips while he can taste a bit of his cum inside your mouth.

“I’m gonna wreck you so bad,” he whispers against your lips. Your walls clench around his cock, causing him to moan at the end of his sentence.

“Then, do it,” you reply. “Ruin me.”

Jungkook slowly pushes back, leaving only the tip of his cock inside you. His eyes never leave your figure, watching you with delight. He brutally pushes his cock fully inside you, a loud moan leaving your lips. For a little while, he doesn't move, hovering over you before his lips meet yours again for a sloppy kiss.

“Will you stay like that forever?” you cock an eyebrow.

“Looks like someone is impatient,” he chuckles.

For a second, his eyes get lost in your body, groaning as he watches himself buried deep inside you. You’re completely intoxicated by the feeling of him stretching your walls.

Without wasting any more time, he pulls back brutally before slamming himself back into you. He leans closer again before licking the spot just under your ear. His hands slowly travel down your body to rest on your hips while his hips slowly thrust into you. The slick sound of your pussy soaking his cock as well as your moans quickly fill the bedroom.

“Damn,” you manage to say. “You really know how to use that cock.”

Sex with your ex was totally different. He’d always prefer to do things nice and slow, it would never be rough. He didn’t like it at all. Honestly, since you didn’t experience much before him, it was fine for you. You enjoyed it as well.

However, now that you’re being fucked by Jungkook, you realize that a bit of roughness can be better.

Jungkook chuckles at your words. “Of course I do,” he whispers in your ear. “After all, I ain’t called the best man in bed for nothing.”

You roll your eyes. This man seems to have quite a big ego. For sure, you can agree so far with that title ⏤ most probably a self-given title ⏤ but you won’t say it.

The feeling of his cock filling you up, his hips hitting against yours with every thrust he makes causes sparks of pleasure to shoot throughout your body, your arousal dripping from your core and creaming his covered cock. He licks his lips as he notices the sticky mess you’re causing.

“You’re making such a mess, yn,” he growls.

His cock is buried deep inside you, brushing against your walls which only causes you to moan even louder. You grip the sheets as hard as possible to steady yourself from Jungkook’s hard thrusts.

“And you’re responsible for that mess,” you teasingly say although you’re completely lost in your euphoric state.

“You’re a fucking tease, yn,” he hisses. “Never imagined you like that.”

“Should have fucked me sooner to find it out,” you wink at him.

Honestly, you’re even surprising yourself by being such a tease. With your ex, you’d talk in bed but it wouldn’t be like this. With Jungkook, you simply can’t help yourself, he’s literally giving you everything to tease him.

“That’s my biggest regret right now, angel,” he manages to say in between his moans.

His hands press harder into your skin when he feels your walls tighten around him. Every time he pushes his hips back, he watches with delight the way his cock is completely covered with your arousal. Nothing drives him crazier than seeing it.

His hands move on your body, grabbing your breasts and squeezing them to make you moan with desire before his fingers start playing with your nipples. Moans flood out of your mouth as he tortures your body like no one else.

“Damn, Jungkook,” you say.

His thrusts become again slow and harsh while his fingers on your nipples are pushing you closer and closer to the edge. This man is without any doubt very skilled when it comes to sex. Fuck, you wished you would have sex sooner.

Gradually, Jungkook resumes to thrust hard into you, and your moans follow his harsh movements as they get louder and louder. Your walls suck his cock as he slams his hips into you harshly. His hands can feel the way your body quivers with each thrust, the way you’re losing yourself further into pleasure.

“Fuck,” he groans when he feels the warmth of your walls wrapping tighter around him. “Your cunt is clenching so hard, angel.”

As you glance up at him, you can’t help but find him extremely attractive. His eyes stare down at you with so much passion and desire as his tongue licks his lower lips. He keeps growling your name, thrusting into you with more urgency. Quickly enough, you sense inside your stomach the powerful feeling of pleasure growing. This is becoming overwhelming.

“Gonna come so hard,” you tell him.

His fingers pinch your nipples while his cock twitches inside of you at your words, a low groan rumbling in his chest.

“Don’t hold back, angel.”

Since he wants to torture you more and more as you get closer to your orgasm, one of his hands slowly goes down on your body, passing your stomach, and landing on your throbbing clit. His fingers start to rub your sensitive spot as his cock keeps slamming roughly inside you.

“Jungkook,” you almost scream in surprise.

His fingers on your clit are what you need for your orgasm to explode intensely, making you come hard around him. Your walls squeeze him over and over again while you come all over him.

While you’re completely euphoric from your orgasm, he speeds up the pace of his hips slamming into you, wanting to chase his own high. The coil in his lower stomach tightens inside of him, and it completely clouds his thoughts.

Breathy whines escape his pretty lips as he looks down at the mess you made. A loud groan leaves his mouth when his orgasm hits him hard, your name rolling out of his tongue. His eyes roll back with pleasure as his body tenses up and releases his load inside you, his semen painting your walls white.

Jungkook collapses over you, both your bodies covered in sweat. While you both come down from your high, you simply enjoy this proximity. You wrap your arms around his body to hold him tightly against you. Nobody talks. The room is only filled with your heavy breathing while you caress his back.

This is a fantastic way to start the day. After this steamy session, for sure, your day is only going to be amazing. Hot sex with Jungkook in Nazaré is a combo you never thought you needed.

However, once you are calmer, Jungkook stands up with a smile on his face. He doesn’t need to say anything else for you to understand that there will be a round 2. Fuck, this man has an impressive stamina.

“On your fours, angel,” he growls.

“So now, it’s doggy style,” you say as you follow his order, positioning yourself on your hands and knees but you make sure that your ass and pussy are on full display to him.

Jungkook gets closer to you. “My favorite position ever,” he whispers against your ear.

Your roommate takes a step back, his hand holding his hard dick to stroke it a bit as he places himself behind you. His tongue licks his lips while his eyes are glued to your pussy. Slowly, you press your chest against the mattress to give him more visibility to your wet core. You can still feel inside you his release.

Jungkook’s hand touch your pussy to gently touch it. “Still fucking wet,” he mumbles but you can hear it.

“Because you’re fucking me senseless,” you reply, and you moan when he slaps your pussy. Fuck, you’ll have an orgasm before he’ll even be inside you.

“That’s the whole point of what we’re doing,” he grabs your right arm to pin it behind your back, slowly shoving his cock into you again.

You whine, your teeth biting your lower lip as he resumes to pound into you again. He slowly rolls his hips into your pussy.

“Shit, I’m not going to last long,” he grunts.

He leans down, his right hand going down from your waist to your thighs. His fingers brush against your clit, making you moan a bit louder, and they pinch your clit while you bite harder on your lower lip. The man behind you never ceases to thrust into you harshly, making you see stars.

Every muscle of your body tenses as Jungkook abuses both your clit and pussy. But you decide to torture him a bit as well, it’d be only fun for him to torture you. You clench your walls around him, making him groan louder and smirk

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he moans lustfully as he gives you a harsher thrust.

You’re unable to reply since Jungkook has decided to increase his pace. His hips slam into yours ruthlessly which causes the whole bed to shake under your bodies. Your moans are louder and louder as his cock hits all your sweet spots. The pleasure is slowly but surely growing strongly inside you, and you try as hard as possible to hold your orgasm.

“Fuck, I’m going to come,” Jungkook whimpers.

The second the words leave his mouth, he fills you with his cum and he holds your hips tightly while he gives you small harsh thrusts. Your name rolls out of his tongue, and you decide to let go of your orgasm. There’s no point in holding back. Your walls squeeze him hard when your orgasm hits you once more, your arousal leaking all over his cock.

Jungkook pulls out of you before he lays down next to you on the bed. You come closer to him, his arm wrapping around you to hold you tight against him. None of you speaks while you both catch your breaths.

“I guess now you can call my brother,” his lips press a gentle kiss on top of your head.

A little chuckle leaves your lips at his words. “Let me first catch my breath,” you tell him. “I’m sure he’ll understand right away what we did.”

“Well, I don’t mind him knowing it,” Jungkook replies while doing circles in your back with his fingers.

“But I’m convinced he doesn’t want to,” you look up at him. “Personally, I wouldn’t want to know that my brother fucked my best friend.”

Jungkook giggles before pressing a gentle kiss on your lips.

Joongki will probably know one day what happened here, but you don’t want him to know it just yet. You’re not sure how he’ll react, and honestly, you’re a bit scared of his reaction. Will he hate you for sleeping with his brother? Probably not, but it still would be weird to say to your best friend that his brother slept with you.

After an hour in bed talking about random things, you and Jungkook decide to leave the apartment and go admire the waves again. After all, you’re here for that.

Usually, you’d directly go to the top of the sturdy rock since the waves are more impressive from there. But today, you decide to go to the beach. They are less massive, but still, you can admire them from another point of view.

You’re sitting at the edge of the sidewalk, right where the sand begins. The sea isn’t that far from you so you really have a beautiful view from where you are. The sea seems more furious than yesterday so Jungkook knows you won’t stay long here before going to the top of the massive rock.

“Today, the sea is creating bigger waves,” you tell Jungkook. “It’s quite impressive.”

He turns his head to look at you. In all honesty, when you moved in with him five years ago, he barely noticed you. He had just come back from New Zealand where he lived for two years. His relationship with Yoojung was starting and his mind was definitely somewhere else. You were simply the best friend of his brother. Nothing more.

However, today, he regrets he didn’t really look at you back then. It would have probably spared him a heartbreak. But, at the end of the day, isn’t it prettier that things between you start here in Nazaré, a place you both wanted to visit?

Of course, you still have to figure out things between you. Obviously, you like each other so you’ll have to see what happens after this trip. Jungkook won't force you to do anything. If you don’t want to give a shot to whatever is going on between you, he’ll respect your choice.

You turn your face to look at Jungkook, offering him a smile when you notice that he’s already looking at you.

“What do you think will happen after this trip?” Jungkook asks you.

You shrug. “I’m not sure,” you say at first. “But if you’d like, we could continue what started here.”

Now, he’s the one smiling, and he’s smiling like an idiot, he’s aware of that.

“I’d love to,” he says with the brightest smile on his face.

Your face gets closer to him and Jungkook breaks the space between your faces to kiss you gently. This is undoubtedly the biggest surprise this trip offered him. After the kiss, you simply lay your head on his shoulder while you keep admiring the beauty of the sea. Nazaré, the town where you fell in love with each other.

#bts #bts imagine #bts fanfic #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #bts angst #jungkook angst #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #effet mer #spideyjimin

3K notes · View notes

moonleeai · 1 year ago

Text

Reviewing for @thebtswritersclub Book Club ♡

Wowowowow WOW. I was not ready for all of this absolute filthy, beautiful SMUT JJ gave us!!! 👏🏽

Usually this is not my typical choice of reading… BUT boy once I got into it I was in for a treat!! JJ NAILED writing every single detail from the gaming to the smut 🥵

What a needy baby boy!!! The amount of shit and slooowwwww pleasure yn gave poor JK!! AND we had to call his tattoos and other things PRETTY! 😍 ugh I was unalived soooo many times!!

🖤 LOVED this line: “His despair can be tasted in the air around him”

There were so many others that made me laugh or slack jawed but I didn’t want to put too many! 🖤🖤

Rematch

Pairing: JJK x Reader

WC: 13k

Genre: Smut, PWP

Rating: M (minors dni)

Warnings: Toxic!JK, Mean!Reader, D/s dynamics, teasing, humiliation, praise, degredation, crying, spanking, semi exhibitionism?, oral (m. and f. receiving) butt plug, edging, anal play, face sitting, cuffs, restraints, piercings (nipple and genital), begging, unprotected sex, choking, creampie, pain play, overstimulation

Banner by @introgfx

Beta’d by @sunshinerainbowsbts

Summary: Jungkook’s only interaction with you lasted less than an hour but you’ve ingrained yourself in his mind since. You gave him a taste of a dynamic which he now desperately craves more of. If only you’d answer one of his DMs. Guess he’ll have to up his game.

Author’s Note: Okay so Have Mercy was supposed to be a One Shot. Then I decided to make a drabble and now I have 13k. I’m a CLOWN. 🤡 Thank you to my moots who let me ramble on about this brat and encouraged me to write. Special thanks to @audreonne for giving me her e-sports knowledge and letting me use her username as OC’s gamertag.

Keep reading

#author: m-yg93 #fic: rematch #moonleeai review #thebtswritersclub #book club review #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jk x reader #jk smut #bts smut

1K notes · View notes

moochii-daisies · 21 days ago

Text

2015.04.

- 18+, Minors DNI

Warnings - Content Contains: Cussing, suggestive moments, mentions of sex, TW: pills, drugging (MC describes bits of the night it happened) a fight, drinking, smoking, MC is not doing well but will be okay. Some tears and hurt (attempted comfort). Unhealthy coping mechanisms (a consistent theme). If I missed anything pls lemme know!

Sidenotes: what happened, my only "plan" note for this was "game night". a dark turn of events? quelle surprise! things are gettin real. as always, thank you for reading if you do and i hope you enjoy <3

Find the rest here!

--------------------------------------------------------------

I want you to imagine a scenario.

Let's say that the person you were seeing (technically) began living with the person you (almost) saw before them. Are you with me so far?

Now - be sure to include the Almost person's person that they are now seeing (confirmed).

Oh - and their five other roommates are there too.

In this totally hypothetical scenario, do you think that things would always go smoothly? That the power of friendship would prevail over any and all odds?

No?

Well congratulations, you're much smarter than I was.

Once the excited, albeit intense, welcoming party was over - the guys focused on moving things from their cars and U-haul trailers into the house. Lacey and I busied ourselves with things we could carry on our own, jumping up at any grunts or cuss words uttered in our general direction. Our cue to come help out.

I was worried at first, about Lacey and I spending too much time together. Her face turned sallow as soon as Yoongi stepped up on the curb and left us, her arms resuming their crossed position over her leather jacketed chest. But the worry didn't last long.

With Jungkook and Yoongi occupied - she seemed to relax around me. Shoulders sagging a bit as if she had been holding them, postured in an attempt to seem taller (she was a few inches shorter than I was). Turning to me with a shy smile, she lifted her eyebrows with an expression that I interpreted as saying, "Just us girls now, huh?" and I returned the smile.

There was no point in making things more awkward than they had to be. If Yoongi - no, never mind. It just wouldn't hurt to make the effort to be friendly, you know? I had no right to be the only one pissed off or weirded out over the situation. We were all in it together anyhow.

This thought seemed to be a shared one as Lacey and I settled into talking quietly together, casual conversation about how ridiculously some of the guys had packed. Joon had of course, labeled everything with a thick black Sharpie. Perfectly packed boxes that weren't too heavy, placed in the U-haul in an orderly fashion. A model packer. Chef's kiss, a 9/10 (One point was deducted only because we found out later that inside of the boxes were a wreck). Hobi was the only other one who would have gotten a score higher than 5. Although he had technically packed everything neatly - the sheer amount of clothing bags knocked him down a couple points. And his incessant fussing over anything getting wrinkled whenever he saw Lacey or I with one of them warranted another point deduction.

But still - even with his nitpicking, at least we knew where to put what.

Everyone else besides Joon and Hobi had packed in, what I could only assume was, a sleep-deprived, over-caffeinated (bordering on coked out) frenzy. Jimin had decided to label his stuff with glitter pens and stickers to indicate their contents - Lacey and I spent 10 minutes staring at a holographic duckling sipping on a pina colada before we finally deduced that it was bathroom supplies.

"A rubber ducky!" Lacey had nearly screamed her realization and snapped me out of my frustrated fantasy of torturing Jimin for the answers to his sticker code.

Tae had exclusively used vintage luggage bags that smelled like mothballs and old perfume which, despite being sturdy, were still sporting their original leather straps from 1901 and not meant for heavy duty packing. Especially not every single book and art supply Tae had in his collection. I walked by him with one in my arms, waddling in a semi-sumo squat and glaring daggers at him while he took a cigarette break. He let me take a drag, murmuring that he'd take dinner in the foyer once I was finished - immediately begging me not to drop his stuff once he saw the look in my eyes.

I felt closer to Lacey than I expected to once we got to Jungkook and Yoongi's belongings. Both of stood in front of their respective piles, snorting out laughter that had us leaning on the back of the U-haul for support.

To our left, was a giant collection of paper bags with barely legible words in red, black, blue and green ink scribbled onto them (Jungkook's pile) and to our right, was a giant collection of black garbage bags that had been tied with various knots at the top to differentiate between them (Yoongi's pile). Some gym and music equipment that couldn't fit into the bags had simply been shoved into places they could fit. Hoodies from both of them tucked in for some semblance of cushioning.

"Good god girl, like, I was literally there with them while we packed and somehow...somehow I missed," Lacey was wiping away tears from laughter and gesturing at the piles in front of us, "All of whatever the hell this is.".

"Okay, okay - lowkey - I have packed the exact same way before..." Choking back my laugh, I had just started to get the words out before Lacey smacked me on the shoulder with a "Shut up!" - dissolving back into a fit of mirth.

"No! I'm serious!! It's so much faster to just shove shit into bags and be done with it!" I was giggling out my defense, trying to reach for a paper bag without ripping it while Lacey began tugging on the plastic of a garbage bag. How gently we had to pull to prevent the bags from ripping only sent us over the edge more, each one making less than a few inches progress at a time.

"What the hell?" A deep voice, one that almost sounded like a jaguar purred and reverberated in the air behind us. It raised the hair on the back of my neck and clicked an anchored chain around my ankles. Shackling me back down to the ground.

Lacey turned abruptly to look at Yoongi with a cheeky wink. "You've got a good friend here defending your honor babe." she teased, gesturing at Yoongi to come get the bag she had been attempting to pull out.

Yoongi kept his eyes low, even though it was dark out, as he moved forward to stand next to me. I had gone into freeze mode, focusing all of my energy into inching the paper bag in front of me closer and trying to make out the words scratched onto its side.

"My honor huh?" Yoongi's response was slow and gruff. It rippled through my ears and into my brain, the small space between our shoulders feeling too close and too far all at once.

I glanced back at Lacey, who had lifted one foot to rest against the hood of her gray car. Her attention seemingly concentrated on lighting her cigarette in a fight against the evening breeze.

"Uh, more like your packing choices. Glad bags? That's name brand man." Nonchalance. I could do this. He wasn't going to see me falter. Jesus Christ the bag in front of me was becoming my Everest.

A snort on my right shot through my body and my neck muscles tightened in an effort to stop myself from turning to look at him.

"Yeah well, you know me - only the highest quality will suffice for my shit. Speaking of -" He cut himself off, and even though I was actively fighting the urge to glimpse at him with every fiber of my being, I could feel him shift to look at what I was doing - which was gripping the edge of the paper bag between my index and middle finger. Trying to pull it closer purely with willpower instead of practicality. Because I could have gotten it easily, if I had lifted myself up into the U-Haul a bit more to get a better grip. However, I couldn't visualize any way of doing this that didn't wind up with my ass in Yoongi's face.

Yoongi seemed to have realized this and out of the corner of my eye, I saw his head move to look toward Lacey, who by the sound of it had won her battle to light her cigarette and was now clacking away on her phone.

Okay, this was good. This was good, right? Lacey was right there behind us, this was a good way to gauge how normal we could be around each other. Just, regular degular friends. Two adults with a normal and manageable amount of chemistry. Definitely not a relationship that gives tangible proof that the red string theory is real. For sure. Neither of us would -

Long, strong fingers wiggled in front of my strained eyes before poking me on the nose. Tearing my gaze away from the blue letters in front of me, the streetlight was shining back out of Yoongi's dark and piercing ones. Stars in his eyes, like there were when I went to see him.

Fuck.

The dejection must've showed on my face, Yoongi's expression turning into concern mixed with something else. Maybe my nervous system had dysregulated the situation out of proportion. He's a kind and caring person, I knew this. Maybe it was just me who felt strapped onto a surgical table that was tied to an extreme roller coaster. Yeah, he was just making the same effort that Lacey and I were making - to not make things more uncomfortable than they needed to be.

Those were thoughts I remember having before they were electrocuted away from our hands coming together in unison. His, palm up and stretching out for me to place mine in.

The "zzt" that came from our skin touching felt thunderous and the pained shock I was experiencing was reflected back at me through his expression. His usual stoic demeanor zapped to reveal the more vulnerable emotions underneath. God, even the callouses on his fingers felt like heaven. Had his skin always been so soft? Or was it just the contrast?

Well, it's not like I could ask him.

I wished I could have asked him.

Instead, our hands dropped in sync the same way that they had risen.

After clearing his throat and reaching up the same hand to rub at the back of his neck, Yoongi twisted his head to look towards Lacey but directed his question at me.

"Seems like...you needed help?" The annoyance in his voice struck a chord and the building heat of the moment we had just shared was doused out with frigid water.

My own feelings of annoyance filled me up to the brim, flooding out into my reply before I could even think to stop it.

"Seems like a pretty girl over there needed help lighting her cigarette." I all but spit the words at him, staring back at the bag in front of me and feeling him bristle at the jab.

There was a moment of silence after that. And it was quiet enough to hear the rest of the group bustling inside, a few disgruntled words like "Fuck no the lamp doesn't -" and "HA! Try putting it somewhere-" ringing out from the open front door.

Lacey hadn't seemed to notice. Thick whiffs of smoke blowing over to where Yoongi and I stood released us from the strangling tension, both of us instinctively reaching into pockets for our own cigarettes.

After we had lit them up, Yoongi opened his mouth while I watched the exhaled plumes twist around in the air. But I never got to hear what he wanted to say. The sound of Jungkook's airy giggle snapped his parted lips closed and he scoffed. Skulking off towards Lacey without looking back, leaving room for an energetic JK as he leapt off the curb to where we were all standing.

If Jungkook had noticed anything going on, he didn't let it show. Leaning down to inhale from the cigarette I was holding and snaking a tattooed arm around my waist.

After a satisfied exhale, he hummed and nuzzled his face into my neck. The cool metal from his lip rings added to the tingling sensation that fizzed a little stronger with each kiss he was pressing against me. They melted all feelings of annoyance towards Yoongi and replaced them with something much sweeter.

I turned my face towards his sculpted chest, an effort to hide the blush that was taking over it.

"Did you figure out my color code baby?" Jungkook grinned the words, nipping at the top of my ear as he did. My mind raced, shuffling noises from Lacey and Yoongi's direction making it impossible to conjure up a single thought beyond "what the fuck". Knowing I needed to answer the question but desperate to buy myself some time, I gave into my impulsivity - something that felt unusually strengthened in JK's presence.

Reaching my free arm around his lower back, I held tight onto his shirt for balance and lifted up onto my toes in order to bite him on the cheek. It squished between my teeth as he broke into a full smile. And I hadn't noticed the tip of my nose being cold until it was pressed against his warmth.

"You couldn't figure it out could you?" Jungkook teased, somehow maneuvering us so that my arms were around his neck and his wrapped around my lower back - hands patting me on the hips once they had assumed their new position.

I didn't care if anyone heard me.

Letting out a small whine, I released the soft bread dough of his cheek to gripe at him. "OooOoOohh I'm Mr. Jungkook and I came up with an asinine color coding system because I'm soooOOOoo smart." My brattiness was rewarded with a kiss on the forehead and my favorite shit-eating grin.

After a brief pause, and a lifted eyebrow I sighed. Trying to rack my brain for some kind of JK logic, landing kind of simply on - "Um, blue...is for bathroom stuff, right?" It wasn't a confident guess, but I peered up at him hopefully. Maybe he'd be happy I tried and would let me believe I was right.

I was met with rounded doe eyes - surprise and pride flashing their way through at my guess. Without looking away, Jungkook reached one arm back to flick the bag I had been struggling to get towards us with frustrating ease. As he turned our bodies to look down at what was packed inside I was more taken aback by its appearance than the actual contents. Thoughts of answering correctly gone in an instant as I tried to make sense of what I was looking at.

"You- you can't - baby what the hell?" I spluttered, untangling myself from Jungkook to peer into the incredulously packed paper bag.

Soaps, toothbrushes, toothpaste, hair care and other bathroom supplies (I guessed right) were all packed in Tetris-style. Each space meticulously filled. Washcloths rolled up into any open space to help prevent anything from moving.

I had packed in bags for sure but never so perfectly. Never like this.

As he continued reaching for bags, I remained dumbfounded until he wiggled his eyebrows and ducked his head to press a quick kiss against my lips. Using one hand to jump into the back of the U-haul, effortlessly. Too sexy for his own good.

Unable to believe what I was seeing, I pulled each bag closer to me so that I could check inside. Every single one was the same as the first and the laughs that Lacey and I had shared earlier started to bubble up within me.

Being close to Jungkook was like having soundproofing against my sensitivity to Yoongi and the sound of Lacey's voice getting closer felt like it was coming from a million miles away.

"What? What? Wait Yoongs - girl, what is it?" Lacey was panting as she came over and I gave a silent prayer of thanks that I had no idea what the two had been doing since JK came outside.

"So, uh, I never packed like this I'll tell you that much." I told her dryly, tilting one of the bags so that she could see the inside of it.

A guffaw came out of her as she doubled over.

"Okay wait, wait - what the fuck?" She wheezed, blinking back tears, "Did you know he had this in him?" and I couldn't stop the smile that crept up at her question.

I shook my head no, grabbing the hand she held out to help her stand upright.

With a little finishing sigh and quick adjustment of her jacket she looked up at me with a strange look. Almost a challenge. Almost pleading.

"Well. Then I guess you two still have a lot to learn about each other." She winked with the words before calling out to Yoongi, "Babe! You've got packing competition over here!" Her words stung more than they should have. A sting that softened with the small grunts of effort Jungkook was making in the U-Haul.

What the fuck did she mean by that though? Did she know things about Jungkook that I didn't? I mean, to be fair, she had been around and known him for much longer than I had but still - what the hell did she mean by that?

The sense of relaxation that had given relief up until that point was gone. And I chewed on the inside of my cheek mindlessly. Reaching to light another cigarette after accidentally biting down too hard. Tobacco and metallic iron. I pressed my tongue against the bitten spot, trying to will the pain out of existence and searching for something to focus on. As Jungkook walked back and forth to take intermittent puffs, I wound up fixated on the way his muscles rippled underneath his baggy white t-shirt. Pausing occasionally to flick away ash, doing so with an aggression that I couldn't figure out how to rid myself of.

The couple's chattering behind me turned into wet smacking sounds. Little "ooh"'s and "mm"'s from Lacey filled my bones with an angry molten lava. Was it really necessary? To do this when I'm right here? When we were right there? The cigarette had burnt down to the filter but I still stamped it out under a combat boot. Twisting my heel back and forth until all that was left was a flattened piece of brown that blended in with the fallen leaves.

Lifting the same foot, I grabbed onto the side of the U-Haul and hefted myself up into the back of it. Flinching slightly at the metal clanging that pinged around its walls. Jungkook had stopped arranging boxes once I entered, a baffled "Baby what-" escaping from his lips before I managed to launch my own against them.

If we had been a more awkward couple - the forcefulness of my kiss would've stopped it just after it started. Luckily, we weren't.

Ok, to be fair, I don't know if we even were officially a couple but - anyways. That's not what mattered.

What mattered is that after my clunky stumbling into his arms and after the slight bumping of our teeth - Jungkook grabbed ahold of me, letting me knock him off balance. His back pressed against a tall stack of boxes gave him firmer footing and he sighed, the edges of it tinted with a small moan.

I think I lost my mind in the moment. My hands diving greedily underneath his shirt to drag my nails down his back and pull him closer. Stepping my feet so close to his body that room between our pelvis's no longer existed.

There was more to learn about Jungkook. Sure. We hadn't really gone into our pasts just yet. But one thing I did know, was that whatever fire I came at him with - he would match.

A firm squeeze on my ass and the rough movement of his hips proved me right. His hard on rubbing against me in a way that felt too good to ever be considered sinful.

Big hands. Warm hands. And curious fingers flirted with the gap of skin showing between my top and my jeans. One made its way to cup my chest, squishing it before toying with the fabric that was getting in the way.

"Baby- Baby hang on, we- mph," Jungkook's attempts to get me to slow down were valiant but ultimately made in vain. The sensation of his lips against mine only made me hungrier. Had I forgotten to eat today? It didn't matter. I would've chosen Jungkook instead of food even if a buffet of my favorites had been there.

Sounds of his ragged breathing, that usually would have sent me on edge, only stoked the need. Unable to remove me without causing harm, he settled for breaking the kisses. Pulling away for a few seconds at a time to look at me with curiosity and the slightest hint of fear.

The third time he did it, I nearly growled. Successfully capturing his bottom lip in a bite, sucking on it just a little before pulling back myself.

"Whyyyy do you keep. Stopping!" It was huffed out darkly, the pounding of his heart beat against the front of my body so strongly I could feel it between my legs.

It was beginning to ache. That he was so close and still so far. I needed him closer. I would have fucked him right in that open U-Haul, in front of Yoongi and Lacey and the whole neighborhood if I could have.

But instead, I clenched my legs together, feeling them brush against the hardness tenting his baggy jeans and made him wince. The look of pain both deepened the ache and softened it. All my muscles turned to steel. Waiting to hear him speak. Cementing my hold around him like if I loosened it at all, I'd never feel him so close again. His own (much more developed) muscles were tightened around me as a form of damage control. Even if I wiggled my ass off, I wouldn't have been able to get out of them.

The two biggest problems, and also two of the parts I appreciated the most about Jungkook - was that he would always choose to trust me and he would almost always give in to what I wanted.

And while I waited for my response, holding onto him like a dog unwilling to give up a bone, Jungkook decided to trust me. Chuckling to himself as he loosened his grip. Hands gently brushing hair behind my ears and away from my face. Holding it in a tender but firm grip before resuming the kisses at a much slower pace. I wasn't going to turn any of it away, pressing my lips back against his as strongly as I could while he held my head in place. Once I had sullenly accepted my fate, I grumbled out between each kiss - "I", "Would never", "Stop you", "You big", "Big", "Stupidly hot", "Jerk.".

A snicker against my lips preluded a sigh.

Lightly dragging the tip of his rounded nose against my own, his arms moved around my shoulders and I was yanked back against his solid upper body. The slight lift in his pectoral muscles acted as neck support and my cheeks were smushed to the point of blurring my vision. Feeling a pout form, I made a disgruntled noise at him. The vibrations tickling the back of my throat and buzzing against my ears.

"Oh baby, baby, baby. What am I gonna do with you, huh?" There was laughter in his voice and a warmth on the back of my head as he pet through my hair.

"Is it fair to let the rest of the guys take care of all the moving?" His tone wasn't condescending, it was genuine.

I "hmph"'d out a no.

"Would it be nice of us? To have so much fun while the others are working so hard?"

"...No. I guess not.".

"Would it be good friend behavior? To fuck each other senseless on probably everyone's belongings?"

The visual memory of Yoongi's pile being next to Jungkook's flashed through my mind. And I gulped down the bratty response I had planned to say.

My rigidity and sudden silence went straight to Jungkook's ego. I almost never acted like a baby, let alone a brat. Not because I didn't want to mind you, but because I didn't like to in front of most people.

Jungkook was different.

And he knew that.

And good lord, did it make him happy when I did.

"Aw baby. Were you so focused on getting me inside you that you forgot what we were doing?" His tone was playful now.

"Can you believe that my babygirl, that's usually so considerate, was SO desperate for dick that she didn't care about getting real down and dirty?" He was thoroughly enjoying this while I made attempts at burying my face, cheeks burning at the truth of his words.

"Who would've known? The sweet girl that calls me a big baby all the time is actually, secretly, an even more perverted and bigger baby than-" His rambling gloating was making me glow red.

Clutching a hand into a fist, his shirt wrinkled with it and I lightly tapped his muscles in a faux punch. Mumbling, "I'm not the baby, you're the baby." with as much ferocity as I could gather.

The frustration that had been building up since that moment with Yoongi had dissipated and left me putty in Jungkook's arms. All fiery passion transformed into something sticky sweet.

Kisses started against the top of my head with an exaggerated "mwah" sound until his lips found my ear, my cheek and then my own again.

It was the sweetest kiss. The curvature of his lips held mine. A content, "ah" escaping from deep within him. But just beneath that sense of contentment, was a mutual fight against a shared craving. The feeling of his opened mouth sparked at the embers he had just put out. Which he realized as soon I had reestablished my boa constrictor-esque hold on him.

Pressing a hand flat and directly over my mouth, Jungkook barked a command with an authoritative tone I'd never heard from him before.

"Baby. No.".

My body went slack. Staring at him for a beat as my glassy eyes worked to find focus.

I don't know if it was due to shock, or if I had become delirious from being around him (and everyone else) again. But once I started laughing this time, I couldn't stop. And Jungkook couldn't either.

We kept laughing until the others came out to see what was going on, Lacey and Yoongi had disappeared to their room which made it easier to stay lighthearted.

When asked what we had been doing, Jungkook opened his mouth - about to blurt out very honestly what had just happened. This time it was my turn to cover his mouth, blabbering about how we had gotten caught up trying to separate whose boxes were whose.

The deadpan stares and wave of lifted eyebrows let me know pretty quickly that nobody was buying it.

"I'd like to request that all...unsavory behavior be kept to our own dedicated rooms." Jimin piped up, tonguing his cheek and trying to look stern.

Jungkook communicated what I was thinking, "Dude, you're too pretty to be the boss. Use those pouters as the good lord intended and pout about it." Jungkook cracked a grin at Jimin's scowl. Scooching us out of the U-Haul to stand with the rest of the guys.

"Well if you're done being lewd, do you wanna come see the house?" Hobi put emphasis on the word "lewd", eyes darting back and forth between Jungkook and I.

Jungkook's hands raised to feign innocence while I sheepishly feigned interest in everyone's choice of shoe.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Lessgo." Jungkook was cavalier, a hand grazing mine to interlock fingers and keep me at his side.

If anyone else had something to say, their moment was lost the second Tae threaded his fingers between my own to hold my other hand. Beaming at everyone, he lifted our hands and shook them a bit. "Onwards!" He rallied with a pure-hearted excitement. The others gave in to laughter right away, closing doors behind us as we trudged towards the house.

I don't think I can remember a single time that front door was locked. Oh, besides that one time. But that happened later.

What happened next was me gawking for a solid uninterrupted 3 minutes. Partially due to the house itself and the rest due to the lack of furniture that the guys had actually brought.

Like their previous home, this one was older and a little worn down. Chipped yellow paint on the exterior, a wooden front porch that they had settled the same sunken in couch onto. The same rocking chair and side table from before were also placed to replicate their previous set up, looking like they had been there for years instead of a couple hours. A dark, shingled roof covered the two-story home more sturdily than their old place. There was no stained glass on the front door but the lightbulbs inside had all been changed to warm, low light. Spilling onto the wooden planks as an invitation to its cozy interior. Except, this house was much larger than their last (my city was much cheaper) and the living room that had once been cramped with the gigantic couch, makeshift TV stand, books and art now seemed to go on endlessly. The couch only taking up a quarter of the space that it used to.

Beyond the sea of living room was the kitchen, curving around to the left - the rest of it unseen from where we stood. In the kitchen was a door leading to the basement, where Jungkook, Yoongi and Namjoon's rooms were nestled. Behind our position in the entrance was a staircase that led up to the rest. Boxes littered open areas but still, even then, the amount of space available made me realize that they hadn't brought any other furniture besides what was on their front porch and in their living room and my worried mother mode was flicked on like a light-switch. We moved through the house together while I hovered around each of them with the same energy as a nervous hummingbird. "Do you need this?", "Let me write this down, I'll get you this.", "Oh my GOD you guys didn't bring this?" bumbled out of my mouth as I flitted until Hobi sent Jungkook and I to his room to occupy me.

And that was how they moved in.

30 days later, Jin came bursting through the front door with a rosy pink glittery cowboy hat and matching feather boa. A darker pink looped in cursive letters around the rim of his sunglasses spelling out - "I'm that girl" three times each. Holding a pipe that Sherlock Holmes would have loved, Jin flicked his lighter and sank onto one hip. His neon green, red and blue button down was hanging off of his shoulders, flames around the middle of the shirt hiding a waist much smaller than anyone would expect.

Once he had taken a few comically loud puffs, Jin flipped a wrist up to lower his sunglasses - and gave us all a Big and Cheesy wink. When we didn't immediately react with a round of applause the glasses were whipped off, yells blaring through the echoe-y entryway of the house.

"WOW. I TRAVELED ALL THIS WAY AND THAT IS HOW YOU GREET ME? I WORKED SO HARD TO HAVE A GOOD ATTITUDE FOR YOU EVEN THOUGH IT WAS SO LONG I TRIED TO P -" Jin's full volume grievances were drowned out by an eruption of cheers from everyone.

Full moon lips pressed themselves together and Jin turned to blow the ash from his pipe outside, stepping back in with a pout.

"It doesn't mean as much when you guys do it after I -" Jin's moodiness was cut off by Jimin this time.

"Hey man, are you a little tired? That was a really long drive, you wanna take a nap and we can unpack for you?"

The rest of us shuffled to the side as Jimin corralled Jin up the stairs towards his room.

"See how I'm not making you carry my bags for me? See how kind of a person I am to you?" Jin's suddenly sleepy voice said weakly. Taking plodding steps ahead of Jimin.

Jimin scurried around Jin to stop him from bumping into corners and things, "Uh-huh, you're really brave dude, it's one of the reasons I look up to you." He paused after each step up the stairs, clearly struggling with Jin's half-time pace.

It was my first time experiencing Sleepy Jin. And I remember thinking that I had no idea there was that side to him.

Anyway - the thought that covered that one for a long time was different. It was focused on Jin's arrival being the moment the house fully felt like a home.

While almost everyone got honed in during the start of their new jobs - Jimin, Tae and I were left to help hang things up, put communal things away, etc..., etc..,. It was much easier for us to change work schedules or get time off. I got lucky and switched shifts with a coworker, Jungkook was able to sub for Jimin at the studio and Tae was working from home selling his art prints online - dedicating more of his focus towards his upcoming installation. It mostly went well. Mostly. We found random bookshelves and mattresses for sale around town and helped get things settled, a little less cluttered.

And we also spent hours arguing over how to nail various things to the walls. Jimin was sure we needed a certain tool for it, Tae believed the hanging itself was a creative process and I kept a bottle of Gorilla glue in my pocket to threaten them with whenever their arguments got too out of hand. Everyone felt included in the resulting decision though, - I'll leave it at that.

After about two months had passed, we had all begun to get comfortable with our new routine. I spent 4-5 days a week with them at theirs, sometimes stealing Jungkook away to be alone all over town, sometimes sneaking him into my apartment whenever my mom was working late. My sister had met and loved the guys, putting a subtle bit more effort into her look when she knew Hobi would be around. It was cute, the way that Hobi would puff out his shoulders in her presence, trying to look disinterested until a sound effect would slip past him - turning him cherry red while my sister would break her neutral expression to giggle at him.

Yoongi wasn't around too much. Lacey and I fell into an afternoon coffee and smoke routine whenever Jungkook and Yoongi both were at work. She had gotten a job bartending at a club nearby, only working weekend nights - asking me to go shopping or out for drinks on some of her days off. It was nice until one of us was suddenly hit with the strangeness of the entire dynamic. Jungkook and Yoongi never really interacted, as far as I could tell. The schedule at the dance studio was pretty consistently 2-8 or 5-9. Yoongi on the other hand was working part time at a restaurant as a cook and part time at a convenience store. His 2-12's extended from 2-5's. Sometimes we'd pass by each other on the stairs during the mornings I couldn't sleep. Him heading down to bed, grunting or nodding his hello's as I made my way up. A moment of mutual sleep deprivation, albeit for very different reasons. Sometimes I wanted to offer him coffee or breakfast. To see if he wanted to smoke or talk about how his shift went. But I kept quiet instead. Not wanting to disturb the comforting peace that was still in its infancy of being established.

It was five months in.

Almost half a year after moving when that game night happened.

At the three month mark, Jimin declared to the rest of us that the house had become too tame for a bunch of 20-something's. We were high as all hell on the couch when he did this - a likely reason for the ideas that came spouting back in reply. Ones that we had no right to attempt even when we were stone cold sober. Things like, "We should rent a gigantic trampoline and throw a party with prizes for whoever does the most gnarly flip off the roof". (Jungkook's). Or, "We set up a DJ station right, like buffet style, and whoever plays the best set becomes our honorary party DJ." (Hobi's.)

After much deliberation and a round of bong rips later, we decided on game and party nights for alternating weekends. "Throw a rager, get our money up, recuperate, chill game night. Then repeat." Namjoon said before blowing out a cloud of smoke. We all nodded in agreement, too stoned to counter or throw out any alternatives.

Now, Joon said "chill game night" but they wound up being more like mini-parties.

Usually someone would bring out the bong and place it on the low glass coffee table on Friday morning. Then someone would wind up bringing home drinks "to have with the game" and the 24/7 corner store a block away from their house gave us ample access to "fill up", as Jimin would call it, throughout the night. But we never actually played any games.

This wound up bothering us to the point that we made up a drinking game. One that became our go to event of the evening. So technically, for all intents and purposes - it was a game night.

The rules were simple. Kind of.

Rule 1: If anyone caught you sober - you had to take 3 shots. (Yoongi, who always got home last, hated this rule.)

Rule 2: If a drink was found unfinished then everyone had to pour their own into it until the cup was refilled. Followed by gathering in a circle around the unfinished drink's person and yelling "chug" until they did so. We each had our own assigned cups and a single Sharpie from the move - that somehow never got lost - to initial beer cans. This rule was taken very seriously. (Tae was so notorious for doing this that he became "The Two Rule Champion".)

Rule 3: Time-Up - Basically, it was a play on the concept of a "time-out". If anyone was caught moping or feeling down, they would have two hours to vent or wallow before a mandatory dance party. At least one other person had to be present and it was only over once the mopey person had started to cheer up. (This was a Jimin + Hobi combo rule. Partly as an attempt to help keep things regulated and partly because at least one of them was always down to dance.)

Rule 4: Someone must always be designated as the "game night head counter" and "key bearer". (Ok, this one was because of me. They quickly realized my habit of convincing someone to go somewhere with me once I'd gotten a little too sloshed. This person and I may have passed out on a bus after leaving game night, and it's possible that we woke up a state over with only two dead cell phones and the clothes on our backs.

...And we may have done it again, only to wake up in a small beach town with no service in the middle of a windstorm.

I can't say that the rule wasn't deserved.)

And finally, Rule 5: Absolutely no canoodling allowed outside of each person's designated area (their rooms).

This last rule was agreed upon unanimously. Nobody offered up a sassy remark, witty jab or dry sarcasm. It was collectively understood that everyone cared about each other, and that ruining the overall vibe of the house was no-one's goal.

At least not until that game night.

The temperature had dropped with the sunset and our tradition of fancy attire for these "game nights" was biting me in the ass quite literally. Cold nipped at the skin underneath my dress, a swishy but short little number that was wine red and crushed velvet.

Stomping my feet onto the wooden boards beneath them, the front porch shook a little. A piss poor attempt to warm myself up to be honest - but my heart wasn't really in it.

I was on a mission. Scanning the side table for a neglected (but not empty) pack of smokes. My arms were crossed over my chest, hands rubbing at the exposed upper parts. The cold temporarily subsided as I caught a glimpse of what I was looking for - one lone Marlboro Light. Gross, who the hell smoked these? Nobody in the house did, we collectively shit on Marlboro's (as if what we smoked was any better). Well, beggars can't be choosers, right?

I snatched it up between my fingers with a sense of triumph that quickly faded. Realizing that I still needed to look for a lighter.

This dress did not have pockets.

And Jungkook said - wait, where was Jungkook?

Pausing my hunt for a lighter, I straightened up. Feeling fabric slink down my back and with a fresh awareness of the frigid night air.

I think I was drunk.

Trying to remember where Jungkook had gone and why I wasn't with him sent a ripple of goosebumps up the right side of my body. Where he always stood. Where he should have been. We definitely didn't start the evening this way. We were annoyingly inseparable. So what the hell happened?

I remember Namjoon started the game night early, almost immediately after he had gotten home - he'd had a pretty rough week at work. And that we all ended up dancing with him for a Time-Up until some other people showed up.

One of those people introduced himself as Yoongi's coworker before waving Lacey and Yoongi both over to join us. And then - and then?

A snapshot image of the kitchen found the forefront of muddied thoughts. I could see the back of JK's head, the shoulder of the grey zip up hoodie he had on, and pretty opalescent nails clinging around his bicep.

Oh yeah.

Lacey had just gotten her nails done that color.

That's right.

To make matters worse, I only noticed this after being lost in conversation with Yoongi and his coworker.

I couldn't remember when Jungkook had left my side or if Lacey had been there at all.

God, I really hoped I was drunk.

I sank onto the front porch couch, the tickling on the back of my legs from the wooly covering barely registered.

But it did so just enough. Just so that I could stay sitting on that couch instead of using the flight response to leave my body. I felt strange. Not the usual fucked up strange - more like something was off. Making me not myself. Turning me into a ghost made of marshmallow fluff and weird feelings.

One of my hands had flopped to my side and a lighter was pressed into it. A blurry glimpse of tattooed fingers helped usher out a sigh of relief.

Lifting my head took concentration, and the additional work to get my eyes to meet his sparkling marbles had me feeling out of breath. Sparkling like stars.

Hang on.

Heat on the back of my head brought the world back around me. His hand was big enough to cover it entirely and the sounds coming from inside the house washed into my senses, rushing water from a broken dam.

"NoooOo I saw it! I saw you! You, you - uh, shit ok, no I know what I saw!" Joon was bellowing in a way that let me know he was swaying. Beer cans crinkled before the sound of metal being hit dinged underneath, Yoongi's low and rumbled, "Swish." following after. Other voices jumbled together, music bumping over and underneath them, overlapping and loud - how had I not heard that?

"-by." Wait, there was something.

"Baby." Jungkook's voice was a foghorn. The sound of it rounding out to fill my hearing up completely. Everything else got caught behind a filter and a beam of life came back to me - my head wobbled as it looked towards him, the weight gone from my eyelids in an instant.

He was standing and shaking out each leg, one light gray sleeve rolled up with fingers still tangled into the back of my hair.

"Goddammit, baby did Yoongi give you something?" The tightness in his words kept my eyes open.

Oh that's right. That's why this was all so hazy.

"Correction sweet boy," I warbled, "I just so happened to take something from him actually. If you, you, uh - yeah, most likely." I think that's what happened. A blue pill in the palm of a hand blinked into memory. Yeah, something like that then.

I was pressing my thumb against the lighter and it was taking Herculean effort to get it to light. The hold in my hair was tugged tight enough to set off pinpricks and a slight burn shot down the back my neck.

A tangerine glow was flicked to life for me and I inhaled the cigarette that I had been dangling in front of my lips with a weak wrist. I was immediately hit with the spins and a head rush that made me go limp. I vaguely remember hearing a "woah" as my head dropped its full weight into Jungkook's hand. The cigarette dropped to the floor and there was a shadow that felt like a ray of sun. Heat cast by his body getting closer, bending over my drooping frame to pick up the smoke and keep it for himself. I had enough energy to focus on breathing, grateful for the way he held my head - preventing any strain on my neck.

A thumb rubbing along the base of my skull is all I thought about for the new few moments.

And then - my arms were around Lacey and Jimin, who were each holding a hand and around my waist. All three of us pressed onto one cushion of the couch. Being propped up like that, I could see a bit more of what was happening.

Jungkook was moving very fast and Yoongi was moving with him. Joon had an arm around Jungkook, trying to turn him away from Yoongi without getting an elbow thrown back into his face. Hobi and Jin were darting after Yoongi, trying to stay between the two and keep space between them.

I squinted at the scene, trying to sort out how many of them there were until a pressure on the sides of my head made me aware of another presence. Gently tilting my chin upwards, the swimming sensation in my vision became still water for a moment after recognizing Tae's eye smile.

"Ok. All here." It was like talking with a mouthful of pudding.

"Seriously Lace, what the hell did he give her?" Jimin hissed above my nodding head.

"I swear to god I don't know. I told Jungkook already, I just saw her take a little blue pill and thought I should tell some...one..." Her words trailed off as I felt Jimin straightening his back beside me.

"You need to cut the shit, did you tell him Yoongi gave it to her? Did you see who gave it to her? Were you the one who did?" Jimin was seething.

"I told Jungkook-" Lacey began to repeat. And that was all I heard because that was what she was telling Jungkook. That thing I had been so mad about seeing. A loopy and effortful laugh shook my body in a way that made me nauseous.

The air between Jimin and Lacey neutralized before they both shifted a bit closer to press more support against my legs.

"Jungkookie - you're really needed over here." Jimin sounded worriedly impatient. I almost wondered if he actually said it, it felt so far away. Barely audible. There was no way Jungkook could have heard it.

But the sound of panting dropped into my ear and down my stomach in an instant. Jungkook had heard Jimin and was crouched in front of me, gently resting both elbows on top of my thighs while he helped hold my head up.

"From a friend," Words slurred out of my mouth as I dragged an iron tongue, "Yoongi shared." Keeping my eyes open was almost surely going to make me hurl - something I was fighting against with the few bits of consciousness I was maintaining.

Lips pressed in a straight line and a dutiful nod from Jungkook were worth the sick feeling that came from trying to glance at him.

After that, bigger chunks of time were lost.

I remember being set down in JK's bed and the feeling of my cheek pressing into the top of his thigh. My head resting in his lap like that slowed the spinning. Everything sounded like it was underwater.

Or maybe I felt like I was underwater.

A burning crept into my shoulder and made it impossible to ignore the fact that Jungkook had left at some point. My overly relaxed muscles sunken into a contorted position. I don't know why but the sharp pain of moving tightened my throat and choked me up. The desire to cry heaved in my chest, cut off by a whirlpool of confusion.

Absolutely nothing made sense. I didn't know how I had gotten there, even though it was a safe place. Had I really gotten drugged on game night? By that - wait, who was that?

The pieces of the evening I could remember replayed themselves and I strained to listen for any indication that a fight was going on outside.

I was met with silence. Waiting in the dark. No light from the hallway made it hard to tell if anyone else was in the house at all. JK's room felt like it doubled in size. My focus became as alert as it could get - anxiously anticipating the first sign of footsteps. I don't know how long I waited, but I remember the recognition of Jungkook's gait being followed by a more muffled one.

"Baby, it's Yoongi," a whisper fell over the room that felt louder than the creaking of the door. I lay motionless under a few layers of blankets, watching as the sudden light from the hall brought the walls back to where they should be. "I'll be right outside. As soon as he leaves I'll be here, don't worry." I never had to worry long with Jungkook.

A weight pressed onto the mattress next to me and my first night at their old house played along with real time. Eerie deja vu.

Yoongi's voice cracked when he spoke, "I'm so sorry. I didn't- It doesn't matter, I'm just so sorry." The mattress moved beneath us with a tiny tremble. Or maybe that was Yoongi. A plopping of tears onto bedsheets rang out into the quiet air.

Unable to get words out, I reached a hand back until it bumped against his. The top was slightly damp from his crying, and I attempted to wipe at it with a thumb before tugging it towards me. I could feel the limb drop, spent from the exertion it took to do what little I did.

A thinner arm, but just as warm and strong as Jungkook's found its way around me. Long fingers curled around the side of my ribcage and a wide palm pressed against my stomach.

A little sharp, Yoongi's chin tucked into the back of my shoulder. A repeated string of "I'm sorry"'s were murmured out, spreading warmth across my back in a mild wildfire. I couldn't figure out what he was saying sorry for. Placing my hand over the one on my stomach to try and get the message to him.

I lost what happened after that.

The next thing I can recall, was Jungkook laying on his back underneath me. Holding me to his chest in a full body headlock.

"Mm?" Jungkook managed to croak out the questioning sound mere seconds after my eyes opened. Pressing the back of his hand against my cheeks and forehead before resting two fingers on my neck to monitor my pulse.

I still felt trapped in submerged slow motion.

A plastic water bottle crinkled in his grip while he lifted it over his body. Unscrewing the cap with his other hand and placing the rim of it beneath my bottom lip.

He was even a natural at doing things like this? Or - had he needed to get good at this with someone else? The water tasted sour as it was tilted into my unbelievably dry mouth. It took a couple swallows to get rid of and I tried to use the time to think of a way to get the lid back from Jungkook. But by the time I had finished drinking, his head had knocked onto my shoulder and pinned me further down. The tickle from his light snore making me wriggle like a worm on a hook to get the lid back on the water bottle by myself. Even unconscious - his hold around me remained tightly fastened until the "oh shit" I uttered after spilling some of the bottle made him double down.

"JK!" Was gasped out and I remember that the rawness of it sounded like it couldn't have come from me.

The water bottle was tossed onto the floor behind us, rolling to a spot we wouldn't think about until nearly two days later.

"Baby, baby, baby," Jungkook dragged his nose across my face, following its path with sporadic kisses, "It's okay, it's okay, lemme love you.". And suddenly, I couldn't hear anything else but that. Lips ghosted across mine before pushing together into a kiss. Sleepy, slow and too purposeful to believe it was done unconsciously. "It's okay, lemme love you." singing me back to black in a lullaby.

I slept for the entire next day and most of the day after. Yoongi and Jungkook started to interact with each other a bit more while I was recovering. Jungkook treated me like I was made of the most fragile glass and Yoongi helped him, a little apprehensively. They had planned for Jungkook to call Yoongi's work and get the guy fired. Or maybe to beat him up. It all stopped feeling real. I know they didn't go through with the plan though, whatever it had been.

Yoongi returned from his next shift with news that the guy had bailed. Didn't show up, phone out of service, ignoring anyone that showed up at his door (or maybe he had moved away completely). Either way, nobody knew. Nobody saw him leave the party. I couldn't even remember what he had looked like.

Justice isn't always swift.

Despite speaking more, the trust Jungkook had in Yoongi - and in him being around me - had shrunk considerably.

Looking back at it now - helping that trust rebuild should've been a bigger priority.

Instead, we came up with an unofficial 6th rule - Only housemates (or people trusted by housemates) were to be allowed at game night.

And for three of us - a 7th rule became a vow. One so unspoken that none of us could put it properly into words.

But that's the thing about promises that can't be made out loud. Silent signings of emotional contracts.

If you've no way to explain it, how can you describe what's been broken?

14 notes · View notes

cinnaminyoons · 1 year ago

Text

( SAINT OF THE SINNERS. )

ミ☆ he was a creature of bloody myth and a man of cruel legend – but he had the tiny, trembling, human desire for love, and the blood he spilt could never quench his thirst.

⤷ PAIRING jjk x m!reader

⤷ WORD COUNT 10.3k

⤷ TAGS cage fighting, blood/injuries/brief mention of gore, murder, use of guns/knives & one (1) grenade, cursing, references to sex/innuendos, (former) assassin!jk/mercenary!reader, reader is described as generally bigger than jk (& older: “hyung”), i gave the reader a codename (jackal), jk has a rather eccentric personality (i.e. no morals <3) and is WHIPPED for reader

⤷ REQUESTED

Hey! Could I request a Jungkook fic where Jungkook is the owner of a fight place like in Shangchi - the legend of the ten rings (if you've watched that) and the reader is like a well known but anonymous fighter who defeats Jungkook but Jungkook questions himself because he's falling in love or whatever.

Feel free to ignore this as it was a weird 2 in the morning thought but you're an awesome writer and I love you

at the beginning of every day, jeon jungkook reads job adverts in his salt bath.

"boring, boring, bo-ring," he announces, sliding the barrel of his pistol across the newspaper in place of his finger; his voice echoes off the tiles. he rolls it up with a long sigh and tosses it over his shoulder, hauling himself up out of the bath and setting aside the gun for the fluffy white towel. "'kill my cheating husband', 'get rid of my business rival', 'clean up the shit i caused and wipe my ass while you're at it'. once upon a time, this was a glamourous job that was an actual challenge..."

he folds it around his waist, fingertips gliding over delicate tattoos and knotted pink scar tissue. they litter his body, slashes and punctures and burns, and on cold wet days his clicking left wrist aches like a jackhammer against glass.

his bare feet leave imprints on the steamy white tiles and he waltzes through his bedroom into his large walk-in wardrobe, pulling out racks of clothes sorted by garment type and colour. on instinct, he reaches for his choice of blazers, a white t-shirt draped over a tattooed arm.

he pauses. does he want to look like a guy who invests in crypto, or a guy who owns a yacht and won't shut up about it?

carefully, he slides the rack away. he'll forgo the blazers today.

as he laces up a pair of chunky black boots, his phone rings on top of a corner shelf. he sticks out a hand; it falls into his palm.

"where the fuck are you? you have a meeting in ten seconds."

"it's called being fashionably late," jungkook corrects, framing his dark hair around a pair of tinted purple shades. "and hello to you, too, jimin. i slept very well and dreamt of you."

"i hope dream-me was minced to death in a woodchipper before he had to speak to you. that would be a kinder fate than having to deal with your lazy ass." jimin pauses on the other side. "you're now officially late. good luck trying to salvage another relationship with the clientele, because i'm certainly not doing it for you. see you in five."

he hangs up. jungkook drops his phone into the pocket of his brightly-coloured silk bomber jacket, which looks as if he'd slapped it against a still-wet graffiti mural a few times. he accessorises with a few choice rings before taking his leave.

he checks his appearance one last time in the elevator's dirty mirrored walls. the low rumble of bass-heavy music and cheering vibrates through the walls and he feels a proud smile spread across his features as the elevator dings and slides open. he spins on his heels and pushes the old elevator grill open, stepping out into a dark, neon-lit cesspool of sin.

the crowds heat up the narrow basement room the size of a warehouse. lined up against the walls are large plexiglass boxes, each containing two fighters mauling each other for cash and repute. killing their opponent, however, is illegal, and results in a life ban and no prize.

it's not particularly equal in terms of justice, but most fear it the same way they fear death: terribly. jungkook's fights are legendary; a single win here can be all one needs to catapult themselves into a life of luxury.

he greets a few familiar faces with a lopsided grin and a wave and heads up the side of the room, ascending a set of metal stairs.

he bumps the door at the top open with his hip, digging around in his pockets and popping a stick of pink bubblegum into his mouth.

"hey, jimin," he greets cheerfully. "you wouldn't believe the traffic this morning! someone's chevvy slammed into a harley and the mess they made on the asphalt looked like someone got crayon-ed across the street – just this massive smear of plain fuckin' red. poor dude had half the road cordoned off for two-hundred metres. it’s days like these that i wonder why i ever lost my motivation for life."

"you're very late," replies jimin with barely-hidden annoyance. he steps aside, gesturing to his chair behind the sleek black desk. "take a seat. you will stay in this seat until the meeting is over."

he shrugs and drops into it, kicking his boots up onto the desk. finally, he raises his eyes behind purple-tinted lenses, and blows a bubble.

on the other side of the desk are three men. two stand behind the centre one, who is tall and thin in a burton-esque manner. the pair are nearly identical, both large-bodied and close-shaven with slicked-back hair. the middle one frowns disapprovingly down his nose at him.

jungkook grins and waves as his bubble pops. "alright, gentlemen. remind me – what are you here for, again?"

after a beat, the middle one tilts his head in jimin's direction. he doesn't even look at him – jungkook rolls his eyes. jimin may be dressed like a billionaire's secretary, but he is second to none with a well-oiled hand cannon. "you promised me a killer. this is a..." he waves a hand with a sneer. "a child."

jungkook leans back in his chair with a cheerful set of finger guns. "a child with an m-one garand and really good aim."

leaning down beside his ear, jimin reminds him discreetly: "that rifle is non-functional, bossman."

"false. one of them is non-functional." his legs swing down and he laces his fingers together on top of the desk, eyeing the chrome ceo-type desk toy on the corner. it swings back and forth rhythmically, never stopping. it's never stopped since jimin put it there two days ago, and it pokes holes in his attention. he pauses it with his thumb and index finger, opening his mouth to speak again: "ah, right! you want bodyguards. sir – as much as i'd love to, i cannot help you. my people aren't cannon fodder for your parties. jimin, if you'd please point them towards the door."

jimin moves to stand next to it, leaning against the buffet table with two chinese dao blades propped up under a wall light shaped like a long bar. he folds his arms across his chest.

"i was told you were the best of the best," says the thin man drily. "i figured money would be quite the incentive for one such as yourself, high on the food chain as you are."

"oh, it is. i like money. yours, though?" he shrugs. "hard pass. you realise that i don't have a factory rolling out fully-trained assassins and spies like iphones, yeah? these people offer to work for me. hell hath no fury than a hundred thousand killers scorned."

the man rises to his feet, towering over jungkook. his features are cold. hard. he presses his pale knuckles into the desk.

"listen carefully, boy," he begins quietly. "you do not want to make an enemy out of me. i have influence even in your filthy circles, and it would take me not a snap of my fingers to have you gutted to rot at the bottom of the sea."

"of course not, sir. you have more than enough enemies for me. in particular, you are the enemy of some good friends of mine, and that makes you a very dangerous guy to protect. it's like sleeping with a woman – only to have your father walk in, all betrayed-like, and say, 'babe?'. it's no good for all parties involved."

his eyes flicker down to the desk toy. it's restarted its eternal pendulum swinging. he leans over and knocks it down.

leaning back in his seat, jungkook adjusts his tinted sunglasses on his nose and smiles politely. "careful on your way out. i know a couple of girls who'd like to get their hands on you and believe me, you don't wanna know what they can do with those hands. you really pissed off the wrong people. i wonder if it was worth it."

in a split second, the man pulls a gun out of his jacket, and a bottomless dark hole leaks between his eyes.

the life leaves him before his muscles remember how corpses work. he crumples to the ground like a sack of potatoes, the classic black glock clattering to the floor. jungkook watches him fall with pursed lips – gently, he sets his two-toned m1911 down on the desk.

by the door, jimin pinches his brow.

"that went about as expected," jungkook comments. he stands, pressing his palms against his desk. he glances between the two large bodyguards, who stare at the body of their former employer with unrecognisable expressions. "i'd hope you gents are better with your fists. what say you to a quick go in the cages?"

—

"i want a raise. or a deagle."

wordlessly, jungkook passes him the gold desert eagle he had been inspecting. the price tag twists from the trigger guard like a pale wind charm. he moves onto a classic rhino, eyeing it with interest as he pulls it off of the rack and smooths his thumb along the pretty barrel.

jimin sighs, tossing the solid gun onto the shady gun shop's scratched counter to purchase later. after so many years of babysitting the potentially-mad former assassin, he knows just how long the younger man can spend in a shop without buying anything. he pops a hip and glares, unimpressed, at the side of jungkook's face, lit up with a boyish glee as he pops the revolver back and retrieves the nearest handgun.

"you know," he begins, "i'm getting sick of this."

"sick of what?" he palms the slide, humming at the satisfying clack. he aims down the sights, a few soft 'pew, pew's falling from his lips as he destroys three automatic rifles across the room with phantom bullets.

"you." at jungkook's side glance, jimin elaborates, "your pretence. as if you don't need anyone else. you're not even thirty yet and you've already decided you're too good for dating – and friendships. i'm the only one you have."

"i pay you for your proficiency with big guns," jungkook retorts, returning the handgun to the rack and dancing his fingers across the next few. behind the counter, something big and black catches his eye – he reaches up for it, giving a little hop to provide the necessary few inches to wrap his fingers around it. "i don't pay you for your conversation. otherwise, you'd be called an escort."

"ouch." jimin's lips twitch upwards with amusement. "i'm still older than you, jungkook. you should treat me with respect."

"i don't need a partner," he states, flipping the large gun over in his hands and testing the grip. the dark shine of its barrel reflects in his eyes. "they'd just die, anyway."

"then find someone who won't," jimin replies, as if it's obvious. "you run the largest and, dare i say, most influential fight ring in the country. if my acquaintances aren't up to your standards, surely one of your fighters is good-looking enough to warm your bed."

jungkook's nose scrunches. he turns around to face jimin. "yuck. all of those people would kill me in my sleep for a fraction of what i have. they'd make a power vacuum and nobody will oblige by my will, which may or may not state that everything i legally own goes to you. most of them are illegally alive."

"that's so sweet of you. but, really – you need to stop whinging to me over the phone that you're lonely and cold and would love to have someone offer you their large, warm clothes to nap in. i can't keep waking up at three in the morning to listen to your complaints about attractive social media boyfriends."

"but they're so pretty," he whines. "i want one."

jimin lifts a finger, reaching into the pocket of his slim lilac trousers and retrieving a small notepad and pen. he flips it open, clicking the pen and scribbling something down with a tiny frown. "okay. here's how this will go. boss' ideal partner: strong enough to withstand... several... assassination... attempts. potentially per night. 'pretty'. is that all?"

"why are you making a checklist?" jungkook asks curiously, peeking over the top of the notepad.

jimin gestures with the pen. "what do you think? i'm practically your p.a., which means i need to help you. i can’t be bothered to remember your dating preferences, so notepads and pens are what you pay me for. obviously, my anybody-and-everybody strategy wasn't working; now, i'm finding a boyfriend for you."

"you can do that?"

he smirks. "i do have friends, jungkook."

"oh. i'm surprised you haven't ‘taken care’ of them, given how tetchy you can be." jungkook glances up as an old man emerges from the back room, sweeping aside a doorway of coloured beads. he places the black gun on the rack. "well, good luck, jimin. you'll need it. will you make a line-up for me?"

"you'll see." he taps the side of his nose, playful and devious. "i already have someone in mind."

—

"no."

jimin sighs and shoves his arm in the doorway before it shuts, prying it open. "please – wait. can i come in, at least? you only have to listen."

the face in the gap of the door gazes back at him, expression hidden by a cut of shadow. only those eyes remain visible – eyes like damascus steel, eyes like a shark's.

they flicker away. the door presses gently against jimin's palm and he lets go, stepping back onto the steps leading up to the dark front door. clack, snap, tchunk. the door opens.

the first thing jimin notices is the narrowness of the rooms beyond the entrance hall. the walls are aged, thin cracks threaded into the corners of the paint, but everything is meticulously clean and there is a subtle scent of lemon permeating the air.

"thank you." jimin toes off his chelsea boots next to the door, sitting by a rack of larger boots and sneakers. "really, hyung. you’re a hard man to find."

you grunt dismissively, heading to the small kitchen. it seems even smaller with you in it. "'s the point. what are you here for, jimin?"

he licks his lips, taking a seat on the loveseat in the living room. the tv is set on a narrow black cabinet, and the shelves contain two worn photo albums. one is blue; the other is peachy orange. next to the tv is a small bamboo plant in a glazed blue pot.

"what, i can't simply come to see a friend? not everything is a ploy."

"with you? it is. you've got a mind as lethal as that deagle in your belt."

jimin nearly smiles. he'd almost forgotten the way you talk, all blunt edges and dry humour. after spending the last few years in glitzy and glamourous cities where lies propagate like flies, the open truth of your voice rings free and comforting. he's glad to see that even the sideways slant of your gaze still retains that careless glint.

"so," you begin, leaning over to check the fridge. "will you tell me what's up with the sudden visit?"

"alright, alright. i'm working with someone who owns a sort of... fight ring," he decides. "he's looking for new contenders. serious ones – not just street thugs and muggers."

"yeah?" you stand, shutting the fridge door. in your hand are two bottles of beer. you pop both open with a black tactical knife and pass one to jimin as you join him in the living room. he sips on it gratefully. "and why'd you come all this way to tell me this? if i was interested, i would've gone without such a formal invite."

he runs his finger over the lip of the bottle, drawing shapes down the neck and along the body through the sparkling condensation. it catches the late afternoon light streaming in through the blinds.

he chooses his next words carefully. "you're the best fighter i know," he says. "and i... i miss you. i miss working with you. i never know if you're alive and well or if you're rotting in a roman sewage pipe."

you raise your bottle in a gesture of cheers, resting against the edge of the dining table. technically, it's an outdoor table, made of frosted glass with a round hole in the centre for an umbrella, but nothing else would fit in the room. you chuckle as you lift the rim to your lips. "as you can see, i'm quite alive. 'ppreciate the concern, but i'm not dying any time soon. haven't yet crossed off my entire bucket list."

jimin watches you, spinning the bottle absently in his hands. "hyung," he says. "come to seoul. come fight. it must be better than doing the same jobs for douchebag politicians – plus, it pays well. there are cash prizes in it for you if you win."

you shake your head. your lips quirk up, almost apologetic. "those lips are hard to say no to, jimin. but i can't. that bounty on my head doesn't simply fade with time."

bounty. jimin's mind begins to work. "and... if you didn't have to worry about being hunted down? would you come see me then?"

"depends. i might have a job or two active when your little beyblade battles are happening."

"they're nightly. we're always open to new fighters. all you have to do is sign your name down for when and where."

"i haven't visited seoul in a long, long time. i doubt i could find much work there."

"you have me – the entire city comes to me when they want a job to be done well. yours will be the first number i call."

you gaze down at him for a while. you huff a laugh, the corners of your lips ticking up, and take a swig from the bottle. "you really have all your bases covered, don't you? you miss me that much?"

"of course, and i do. i'd be dead if you didn't bring me back to yours and, quite literally, nurse me back to health." he falls quiet, pensive, for a moment. "i never properly thanked you for it, and then i ran when you needed me most. i left you behind and you took all the heat for my mistakes. please... come visit me. i want to make amends – maybe start with dinner and drinks?"

your lips tighten as he smiles hopefully at you. your bottom lip slides between your teeth and at last, you click your tongue, eyes lowering to stare into the bottle. you swirl it slightly. those sweet eyes were the reason you hefted him over your shoulder in the first place, and once again, you were letting yourself be pulled along with his plans.

"fine," you agree, and his shoulders sag in relief. "but only after you ensure that the whole city's not gonna come down on me the moment i step inside its boundaries."

it won't be easy. he'd already tried sticking his fingers into all the strings he knows, and that went nowhere.

he'll try again. now he knows more people, more places. "give me two days," he promises, "two days and i'll wipe it clean. how about it? i'll drop by and pick you up in time for dinner and a couple beers. what do you say?"

your smile is crooked but gentle, and jimin is certain that a certain long-haired man will adore it.

"alright, jimin," you hum. "it's a date."

—

jungkook is going to kill someone.

jungkook is going to slip his knife between someone's ribs and twist the blade, leaning in with a hand cradling their nape to watch their pupils dilate as they both sink to the ground in a musty hallway buzzing with cheap artificial lights.

he has killed someone and he realises, pulling the smooth blade out with a wet sound, that he doesn't like it all that much.

he doesn't like the way they twist his sleeve in a white-knuckled grip. he doesn't like the way their lips part in shock and blood comes trickling out the corner of their mouth. he doesn't like the way their face relaxes before their body and how their eyes dim to darkness before their fingers slacken.

he stands back and the body flops forward like a dead fish on the deck of a pristine white yacht. he flips the knife and slides it into his belt, upping the pace as he hurries towards the exit at the end of the hall, straining to crunch open the rusted red 'employees only' door. he vaults over the fire escape, descending the metal steps and hopping off the platform when his trust in the ill-maintained architecture diminishes significantly.

he lands on both feet and glances both ways down the alleyway, which bloom into bright and loud night-time activity at either end. he flicks up his jacket's hood and slips the loops of a black face mask over his ears, stuffing his bloodstained hands into the pockets. a quick game of eeny-meeny-miny-moe finds him in the middle of a busy night market. a pretty young woman with a thick accent calls out for him to consider her merchandise with a saccharine smile – he wonders if she means the glittering jewellery laid out on her stall table, or the merchandise barely hidden by a strip of pink cloth over her chest.

he spies a lovely set of gem-studded drop earrings. a tiny astronaut sitting on a rocket dangles at the end of a silver chain.

he glances around, making sure he wasn't followed, and pulls his hands out of his pockets to pay in cash. that's the only thing they accept around there. her eyes flicker down to the still-wet blood smeared over his knuckles and joints and holds out a hand for the money – which could have been extortion, given the incredible price he paid – with a wink. when he leans over to pay, he spies a bedazzled ar-15 rifle propped up against the leg of the stall, hidden from the casual observer by the black cloth over the table.

right. back on task.

he weaves his way through the crowd with a growing sense of off-putting doubt.

he wonders if murdering political rivals and government spies for cash was really the best route his life could've taken. gangsters in blockbuster movies always mention the crushing weight of their past actions, and he purses his lips. maybe he's coming up to that part of his life – the equivalent of a mid-life crisis for criminals of his calibre, since so many of them never even reach their forties.

he realises he could've been a careers consultant or realtor. in comparison, shanking embezzlers and rude diplomats doesn't seem so bad.

"jimin!" he announces half an hour later, waltzing into his office. "do you have my vanilla coke?"

"buy it yourself, asshole," jimin replies, sipping on a cup of bubble tea. he texts someone with furious fingers. "i'm on break."

jungkook falls onto the sofa next to him with a pout. after a pause, he leans closer. "who is it?"

"a friend," he mutters distractedly. "he's fighting for you but isn't taking the damn prize money. nobody dares to pair up with him anymore so he's asking to fight the boss of this place. i keep saying how much of a bad idea that is, but he's not accepting it."

"why don't you just go down and tell him this in person?"

"i'm on break," he says, as if it's obvious.

jungkook grins, jumping up and shaking out his fists. "alright – i'll fuck up this douchebag friend of yours. doesn't take the prize money, nobody wants to fight him, and he only wants me? i'd say he's here on a mission." he says thoughtfully, rolling his neck, "i wonder how much they're promising him."

"it's not like that," jimin protests, standing as well. "he won't kill you. he isn't paid to, either. he's just... lacking stimulation."

"you say that as if he's a dog trapped in a bare-bones apartment," jungkook huffs.

"he wants a challenge, and none of your champions are available tonight. that's why he wants you. now."

"demanding fucker." jungkook clicks his tongue, shrugging off his jacket and stripping himself of the weapons he'd strapped to his thighs, belt, and chest. "at least i've got a heads-up for what he's like in bed."

jimin scoffs, slipping his phone into his pocket as fiddles with the holsters, unbuckling them from his belt. "gross. hey, leave that one on."

his hands pause near the black chest harness. he frowns and jimin only shrugs, smirking as if it was some inside joke he was supposed to remember.

"don't worry so much about what you look like," jimin continues, reaching out to grab jungkook by the shoulders and frog-marching him out the door. "you've got that natural beauty. he'll fall for you in no time."

"damn right he will," he boasts. "the sooner he's on the ground, the better. i've got better things to do than remind asshats like this of where they belong."

jimin chews on his devious smile, swallowing it down. his paycheck just came in, and he's amassed a small fortune as pocket money. he'll never watch another match where he's so sure of the victor.

a swift announcement over the speakers sees a rapid crowd forming around the largest cage in the centre of the first floor, suspended several metres above the ground by thick steel wires and framed with thick steel chains. jimin's voice means a good fight that no one wants to miss; even if someone doesn't know a lick of korean, it's obvious what the sound of his voice means by the abrupt attention of everyone else around them. fighters limp out of their plexiglass cages early, without regard to losing the prize. obnoxiously loud people quieten to murmurs as they watch jungkook's lean figure step into the cage, smoothing down his clothes methodically as if readying himself for a date.

the hot lights beam down on him, illuminating the curves and dips of his muscles beneath his tight shirt as he rolls his shoulders and bobs down into a stretch. his knees pop and he groans quietly, scrunching his nose. "getting too old for this... how does yoongi-hyung do it?"

jimin gazes down into the ring with a microphone hooked over his ear. his plain white shirt and dark pants contrast with the luxurious eye-sore of the rich teens-and-twenties around him, those mink fur coats and gucci sunglasses so lauded by peers marking them as fruitful targets for even the worst pickpockets.

he smiles down at jungkook, giving him a thumbs-up. his voice carries well over the anticipatory hubbub. "it’s seoul's most fearsome killer, who took down a national trafficking ring with a pencil, fertiliser, and sugar. he’s the man whose pockets you love to line to bursting – dokkaebi!"

before he can continue with his introduction, a woman draped in money stands from her boyfriend's lap and tosses a red rose over the barrier. jungkook catches it reflexively, shielding his eyes as he searches the crowd. the woman flutters her fingers and jungkook plays up the act, sweeping into a grand bow and passing the rose to a black-suited man on the other side of the chains. the crowd roars.

jimin continues, gesturing smoothly to the other side of the cage. the lights follow. "and who dares to challenge our own? an international ghost with a reputation so bloody and merciless that just the mention of his name has the toughest of you quaking in their boots. coming all the way up from cairo to entertain you air-headed bastards – jackal!"

on the other side of the ring amongst hollers of his name, an imposing figure emerges from the darkness. dark cargo pants are tucked into heavy black boots, and jungkook's eyes zero in on the intimidating size of his delts. his sleeveless boxing hoodie only emphasises his arms, and the large hood shadows his eyes over a black baseball cap. between the face mask and the cap, the only thing that jungkook can discern is the shape of his eyes, trained on him like a bloodhound.

jungkook's head cocks and he bounces on his toes, exhaling softly. "what's with the mask, big guy? got an ugly mug?"

he half-expects him to take it off and prove otherwise. if a man was proud enough to demand that jungkook fight him personally, ignoring the equally likely chance that he might simply shoot him in the head instead for even suggesting such a ridiculous thing, he'd probably want his face plastered over the live streams, too.

jackal only tilts his head, and jungkook can see how he got his name. there's something savage boiling beneath his skin, a calculated wildness running through his veins and humming in taut muscles. he stands perfectly still and proud, feet shoulder-width apart.

ex-military, jungkook would guess. he doesn't know how old he is, but jungkook knows he can't be caught. a single twitch would snap him in half like a dry twig and there would be nothing anyone could do to stop him before jungkook is toast.

he should've refused this fight – he's out of practice. but his ego is far bigger than it has any right to be.

as soon as the words fall from jimin's lips, jungkook launches himself at you. the thunderous cheers buzz in his eardrums as you catch his shoulder and throw him into the chains, following his momentum.

he grunts at the impact, the chains rattling. you could've slammed him on his back and winded him – you're toying with him. great. now he has to outmanoeuvre you instead.

you circle each other. he doesn't taunt as much as he usually would – those eyes are cold, almost robotic. he wouldn't get a rise out of you if he had a tank of helium in his hands.

"come on, big guy," he mutters, far too quiet for anyone else to hear. "i'm wide open. heart's right here. you've got a job to do – finish it."

then, the tiniest shift in your stance: one step back, twisting slightly on the ball of your foot. the next second, you're up close and personal, your knuckles flying towards his face – he blocks every hit, keeping his fists up. he dodges once and his knuckles meet your jaw in a solid punch.

he ducks under your arm, wrapping his arms around your middle and twisting your legs together to leverage you to the ground. he twists around you, his arm around your neck in an attempt to choke you out. his mind brings to his attention the exact feeling of your stomach tensing under his grip, and it's so busy conjuring a mental image of what it'd look like without cloth in the way that he doesn't notice your hand on his shoulder.

his breath is punched out of his lungs as you arch your weight off of him and throw him down in front of you, jumping to your feet as jungkook rolls to stand. he bites down on his wide grin and makes no excuses about the heat travelling up his neck. it's not from the floodlights. being thrown around like a ragdoll isn’t something he'd experienced since he was a teenager, and now it feels like less of an immediate threat to his life and more of an immediate reaction in his lower half.

"alright," he pants, voice loud enough for you to hear over the roar of the crowd. "what are you playing at? weren't you here to kill me?"

before you can respond, he darts in, his fist meeting your tensed stomach in a hefty gut punch that has you reeling. he's stronger than he looks – and he's not a dainty wisp of a man, either – and you grunt behind the mask. he slams you into his knee and shoves you to the ground on your front, spinning over your shoulders and wrapping his arm around your neck again – the black cap knocks off into a corner. his legs pin you to the ground, and he can feel your heart thudding through your back and the heat of your skin under the glittering sheen of sweat.

you twist onto your back and jungkook lets out a punched groan as your whole weight falls on him, but his grip only tightens. you struggle to part yourself from him in a manner where you can elbow him in the crotch – jungkook's seen it all before, and he wraps his thick thighs around your hips.

"'s kinda hot, isn't it?" he whispers in your ear. "go on, jackal. kill me."

with a low growl, you throw your head back, contacting his nose with a meaty smack. he gasps and his grip loosens – not by a lot, but enough for you to shift your weight and throw yourself at the weak point of his clasped hands.

you step back as he clutches his nose, blood streaming over his knuckles. he looks more stunned than anything, and only stares up at you with almost-vacant eyes, his other hand hovering above his chest in a loose curl.

you reach up, hooking your fingers around the loops of your mask. the bright ceiling floodlights haze his vision. your mouth twitches as you brush the growing bruise forming on your cheek.

your eyes flick down to meet his stunned gaze. your lips part. "i wasn't going to kill you," you murmur, and he blinks in confusion.

your boot swings swiftly down onto his face, and with a crunch and a searing pain, everything goes black.

—

jimin's brows furrow deeper as he stares at you from across the room, his arms crossed. you pick out a slice of carrot from your takeaway bowl of fried noodles and pop it into your mouth, determinedly avoiding his glare.

"you promised you would abide by the rules."

"i did," you counter immediately, twirling the noodles around your chopsticks. you pause to put it in your mouth, swallowing before attempting to talk. "you said everything was legal except for killing—"

"he was already on the ground," jimin snaps, placing his hands on his hips. "points are gained on downs and yields. he was down. that last knockout wasn't at all necessary – you were just being an asshole."

you shrug. you're still wearing your hand wraps. "he's too arrogant. he needed to be knocked a notch down and remember that even he is mortal."

"so are you," he replies pointedly. "you just did something really dickish to a guy with a lot of friends. and you practically violated our neutrality! it's a miracle that rival gangs aren't yet stabbing each other downstairs."

you make a dismissive gesture: a careless 'what can you do' in body language. "sorry. i won't do it again."

"you better not."

against one wall, laid out across the couch, jungkook groans sluggishly. jimin darts over and flits over him like a worried mother hen, passing him a glass of water and some painkillers while speaking softly to him. you can't quite tell what he's saying, but jungkook's eyes gradually sharpen. they flicker to you.

you lift a hand in a lazy wave.

he sets aside the glass and painkillers with a blank expression as he sits up. a small dark bruise forms on the bridge of his nose, a shallow cut splitting it in half. he leans forward.

jimin slides the gun on the coffee table further away. he worries the inside of his cheek between his teeth.

jungkook lets out a soft, airy giggle, a flirtatious smile spreading across his lips. "hi, big guy," he coos. he props his elbow on the armrest, eyes roaming your figure against his desk. he hums appreciatively. "how far do you think you could throw me?"

you glance briefly in jiimn's direction, who looks quite scandalised. you return your attention to jungkook, and his grin widens. "pretty far. depends on whether i get a wind-up."

"oh," he breathes, brushing his fingers over his lips. jimin frowns in confusion – out of all the people he's tried to set jungkook up with, why is he so interested in the one who literally stepped on him?

"your reputation precedes you, dokkaebi," you say, putting down your empty bowl of noodles. jungkook watches the movement rapturously. "former assassin with a taste for the bloody and brutal. from the whispers, you've got an impressive resume, too."

"that's nothing compared to what i've heard about you, jackal," jungkook purrs, crossing his legs. "they say you're quite the lover. if you're truly not here to kill me, why don't you show me what else that body of yours can do?"

"all right," jimin says loudly, stepping between you and jungkook. "that's enough. jackal, apologise."

jungkook leans around jimin, placing his index finger between his straight white teeth as he smiles, propped up by an elbow on the couch. "there's no need for that. i'm sure he did what he thought was right."

jimin stares incredulously down at him. "he broke your nose."

flapping a dismissive hand, jungkook says, "potato, po-tah-to. so, handsome, are you seeing anybody at the moment? if that's a yes, would they mind an additional face in the relationship?"

"for fuck's sake," jimin mutters.

amusement coats your voice when you speak next. "no, i'm not seeing anyone. i don't even know how old you are – i'm surprised someone like you wasn't murked on your first day on the job."

"this pretty face has some benefits," he hums. "and i'm legal, if that's what you're asking."

"he's twenty-five," jimin deadpans. "i wish he'd act like it."

"come off it, jimin," you say. "i think it's cute."

you can see jungkook's infatuation deepen. a tiny, dreamy smile graces his soft pink lips. "mm, you're perfect... ah, jimin-hyung, can we keep him? i don't care what i have to do – i'll personally hunt down every bounty hunter in the city if i must. i don't want him to leave."

jimin doesn't bother asking how he knows that you were wanted. he sighs, shaking jungkook's hands off of his arm. "i don't know. can you keep him?"

"yes."

"no, you can't. you can't keep a person. did he kick out your brains in that cage?" this is going awfully. how is he ever going to get a full eight-hour night of rest if he can't find jungkook a damn boyfriend? "lay down and take your meds. jackal and i will be back in an hour – i want a drink."

"drink? i want to come."

"he can drink harder than you can."

jungkook pouts fiercely, sinking back into the sofa. "rude."

"no; it's just the truth. come on – my driver's waiting."

"yeah, i'll have to take a raincheck... i think i'll stay here."

he turns around, disbelief on the tip of his tongue. he notices your eyes first – softer, almost, at the edges, as if you're watching someone you care deeply for from across the room.

"are you serious?" he glances at jungkook, who looks far too cognisant and coquettish to have so recently woken from a knockout. "you're serious. frankly, i'm not even surprised."

your gaze flickers to jimin's, a questioning lift to your brow. jungkook huffs quietly, upset when your attention diverts from him. "you invited me here for this, didn't you?"

"i did, but not for you to challenge him to a fight! you were supposed to go up against smoke and jungkook would watch because he would have nothing better to do, because i rearranged his schedule so that he was completely empty for two hours—"

he shakes his head, muttering fiercely under his breath as he spins on his heel and exits the room in a flurry of vexation. heavy music and a chorus of cheers seeps through the gap in the door as he steps out. he shuts it with a pointed slam, not forgetting to set the lock before it closes. it clicks, and total silence envelops the room.

when you glance back at jungkook, you find him already gazing at you, his hand a little too high on his thigh to be innocent. a sly grin tugs at his mouth as he notices the direction of your eyes – he slides his tattooed hand over the front of his belt, thumb hooking into it loosely.

"when people spoke of dokkaebi," you say, "i pictured someone older."

"i'm sorry to disappoint," he hums. he doesn't seem too bothered by the fact that you broke his nose – completely unnecessarily, too. "does it bother you?"

"no." you push off of the desk, meandering across the room to marvel at all of the shiny toys he has on display. you slide your finger over the swords. "but i remember first hearing your name ten years ago. it was this huge spectacle in our world, and no one knew how we knew of this 'dokkaebi' – only that they were new to our world, and ruthless."

he eyes you. "yeah. how do you remember it so well?"

you turn, rolling the sword smoothly with a loose wrist. it cuts silently through the air, perfectly balanced about the tang. you admire the shine of the steel, and jungkook's breath catches when you blink slowly and the glint reflects in your eyes.

"that was my gig," you say eventually. "six million dollars for a clean hit on a corrupt politician. embezzlement, laundering – you know it. you saw the news. i'd done it all: bribed his pilot to delay exactly three hours; called their hotel to cancel his mistress' room; called his wife instead; arranged her immediate flight over; had the cleaners come in at annoying times until they could finally, finally, get it on, uninterrupted; and the wife walks in.

"oh dear – the wife is understandably furious," you continue, placing the swords back. "she tells everyone. the board, the company friends, the wives of puppet ceos – and i had the perfect window of opportunity. a gun in his hand and a bullet in the temple – he was left-handed, of course – and it was perfect. nobody would suspect foul play because the only thing that was more shameful than having an affair was the whole world finding out about it. with no loving friends and no family, no one cared to press an investigation."

"why are you telling me this...?"

"i want you to know how daring i found you to be, dokkaebi." you smile – gentle, genuine. his heart flutters. it turns a little pensive – almost sad. regretful. "but now i know that you were only fifteen, and that man was nothing more than a smear of guts and cartilage littered with shells."

jungkook laughs, and you can't tell if he really doesn't care or if it's some sort of mask. he shrugs, resting his ankle over his knee. "i knocked. he just happened to be right behind the door."

you shake your head, your expression purely curious. "did you have someone to teach you these things? how to properly oil a barrel, how to lose people in a chase?"

playfulness tugs at the corners of his lips as he rocks to his feet, skipping closer to you and clasping his hands neatly behind his back. "no," he laughs quietly, and takes another step forward until your chests almost touch. he trails his fingers over where your collarbone would be, swirling lines over your arms and down to the inside of your elbow.

he hums, lifting his gaze below his lashes. "it was just me. just me, my trusty switchblade, and my good ol' bag of marbles." he taps his temple. "why? impressed?"

"intrigued, more like." you lean in and he giggles, far sweeter and more innocent than someone like him should sound. he presses his forehead against yours, his touch dancing along the side of your neck. "but i can't help but feel you deserve something... more. you have these shiny toys and pretty clothes, but what else? i know your reputation, dokkaebi. slow to trust and slower to befriend."

with a dark smile, he teases, "am i really slow to befriend?" his fingers catch on the edge of your shirt and take their time lifting it. he slides his palm over the heat of your stomach, leaning in with a pleased titter. "i think i'm quite open. plus, i'm not opposed to you teaching me how to... oil my barrel."

your breath catches in your throat as he rakes his nails over your chest. you pull him closer and he laughs, a little flustered, as he slots neatly between your thighs. even like this, with you resting against the table, he's staring straight at your lips.

it's not a bad place to be trapped, he thinks, watching them part with a soft breath as his hands ride up your sides and shoulders.

"i'm sorry," you murmur, "about before. about... that." you gesture to your face. "got carried away."

he smiles and shakes his head. "it's okay. really. it's what i deserved," he laughs, so pretty and so shy despite the mischievous spark in his eyes. "it's nothing i can't handle. i've yet to meet my limits."

"mm? and you want to test those limits, do you?" you mimic him, slipping your hands up the back of his shirt to rest on his waist. he shivers. "you want it now, dokkaebi?"

"jungkook," he whispers. he closes his eyes as your lips brush his earlobe, lazily tracing his jaw and collarbone. "my name is jungkook."

you give him yours, and something ignites deep within him. he feels like a creature of fae folklore, trading names so carefully. it feels like unzipping your spine and stepping inside, curling up with warmth and protection and no memories of severed muscle or clicking wrists – only eternal, sinful peace.

—

your touch sparks over his skin, hot and cold at once. he hums softly, smiling to himself as your warm hands gradually press into the stiff muscles of his back. he hisses as a muscle zings between his shoulder blades, and you press harder on that spot. he winces until it slips loose under your thumb, and he groans in relief.

"fuck, baby, your hands are magic..."

you chuckle, dipping your hands into the hot water of his bath. suds cling to your skin as you draw slow circles into his shoulders, rubbing off the stress of the day. sure, it'll only build up again in the next few hours, but you enjoy treating him like a prince.

"i'm glad they're good for something other than killing." you lean forward, smoothing your palms over his shoulders and chest, and he groans again, head rolling back to rest against your thigh. his eyes are closed and his lips are parted, a picture-perfect scene of serenity. "don't fall asleep on me, jungkook. you still have a client to meet."

he huffs, pulling his knees up. they peek out over the thick layer of bubbles. "i don't wanna."

"you have to. you've got a reputation to keep."

"can't you get someone else to do it for me?" he asks, injecting a pitiful lilt into his words. he looks up at you. "i like this. i don't wanna move."

as if to sweeten the deal, he turns his head and presses a long, gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh, intensely close to something else. he shifts, the water and bubbles rocking against the sides of the bath, and he lifts his arms out of the water to rest them on your knees. he tilts his head, grinning lopsidedly up at you.

"get someone else to do it. jimin. yoongi. oh, oh! namjoon's not doing anything – i know that for a fact."

"just because they're not doing anything for you doesn't mean they don't have other plans. as an aside, they're all older than you, my darling. you need to be more respectful."

he pouts. "they can't be 'hyung'. you're my hyung. you're the only one i need."

"that's sweet, but they do a lot for you. they're your friends. the least you could do is be nicer to them."

"if i do," he says, his voice small, "do i get anything in return?"

he's impossible. "a kiss."

"like, a kiss per 'hyung' title, per person, or just one for the whole thing...?"

you lean in. he watches with wide eyes, taking his lower lip between his teeth. "be respectful or i'll have to do something about it. you don't want that, do you, darling?"

he shivers and nods, the hairs at the back of his neck pricking up. "yes, hyung," he whispers.

you smile and peck his lips. he follows you subconsciously. "very good. now, what are we going to do with this client?"

"we're gonna accept it," he recites, following you first with his eyes and then his body when you stand to move around the bathroom, "and we're gonna be gracious about it. you're gonna be my guns if they try anything funny because jimin's got an anniversary date tonight."

"what else?" you pick up the heated towel.

"i'm not allowed to kiss you or do anything that implies romantic ties," he replies gloomily. "i'm..."

"yes?" you prompt, holding out the towel.

jungkook stands, stepping out of the bath. water streams down the dips and curves of his muscles, and he hums as you drape the towel around the straight lines of his shoulders. you pat him down while he watches with a lovesick glimmer in his eyes, humming softly as you fold the towel around his waist.

"i'm not allowed to sit on your lap."

"that's not quite what we spoke about," you chuckle, "but that's true. it falls under the last rule. you know what it is, jungkook."

he groans in annoyance, following you out of his bathroom. "fine... can't provoke the fuckers. theirs is an important bridge."

"perfect." you pull a simple black turtleneck from his wardrobe and shuffle down the wall, pulling out racks every so often. it still astounds you – how does one man own so many clothes? "it'll only last a little while. after that, we have the rest of the night to do what you want."

"i still feel weird about it," he grumbles. "why are they so insistent that i come unarmed? why is it so bad if i ask the same of them?"

"not asking is a display of trust," you explain. "you trust that they'll do the same."

"but i don't."

"exactly." you toss the shirt and a pair of grey, high-waisted trousers to him. "that's why i'm coming with you."

"still doesn't make sense," he calls, muffled, with his head inside the soft merino wool. his head pops out the neck, his long fluffy curls bouncing as it does. he drops the towel shamelessly over the low cushioned seat down the middle of his wardrobe, which you settle down on while he changes. "but you're the expert – like the cabinet for a president, i guess. you're my cabinet. and the secret service."

"for this kind of thing, i'm a mercenary first and your partner second," you remind him. "i'm not doing this so i can feel important or so you are forced to rely on me like a damsel in distress. i know how these people think."

he huffs, threading a black belt through his waistband. the buckle clinks as he turns to face you. "i know that you know... i just feel like i should have something. a knife, maybe. i'm quite handy with knives."

"and if they test you and you bring out that little stick? no dice. you'd lose all potential with them in an instant. i'm going to be right there, my darling." you slide your hands up the sides of his thighs and press a lingering kiss to his stomach. he strokes your hair, his palm coming to rest on the back of your neck. "i'm very good at my job. you've got nothing to worry about from these lowlifes – i promise."

"i better not," he grumbles. "so, how do i look? good enough for you?"

"good enough to eat," you growl playfully, pulling him onto your lap. he laughs as you pepper kisses up along his jaw and lips, pressing a final kiss to the tip of his nose. he scrunches it up, playing with the baby hairs at your nape. "utterly delectable, sweet stuff. now c'mon – wheels up in five. join me in the garage when you're done, alright? i need to make a call."

"can i drive?"

"no. you drive like a maniac."

"who're you calling, then? your side chicks?"

you roll your eyes and gently lift jungkook off your lap, but not before one last kiss. he smiles into it. "yes, all six of them. i want the heart-shaped bed ready with pink cupcakes and scattered rose petals by the time i get to denmark."

"damn, six? i guess i have to up my game, don't i?" he darts in, landing a sweet kiss against your lips. he can't help it – not when you mean the world to him. "you won't even be able to think of them when i'm done with you, baby."

"mm, i can't wait. but client first – then you can have your fun."

"bummer," he grouches. he brightens. "will you give me a kiss if i obey all of your rules?"

"yeah, alright. but only if you follow all of them."

it's a fairly innocent request. of course you acquiesce. there's no one on earth who wouldn't.

besides... what could go wrong?

—

"everything is going fucking wrong!"

"no shit!" you retort gruffly, jerking back under the cover of a marble pillar. stone, dusted by a spray of bullets, settles white against the black of your suit. you twist the black handgun close to your chest, firing off two shots at a man racing up to jungkook behind the receptionist's table. he collapses, skidding slightly on the damp, polished floor.

jungkook hastily drags him in by the shoulder, patting him down for anything he can use. the glock's empty, but he has a knife. he twirls it between his fingers and whips around, arm thrown over his eyes against the spray of splintered wood.

"be chill, be chill, be chill," he repeats like a mantra, wincing as you grapple with a dark-clothed figure as tall as you are. you throw him down in a suplex and force his gun towards his own head, pulling the trigger twice in quick succession.

"i'm so chill," he grunts, aggravatingly helpless. he peeks around the edge of the desk, only to throw himself back as a spray of bullets comes dangerously close to hitting their mark. "oi, that bastard—! hyung, i'm a sitting duck right now!"

"working on it," you hiss, ducking into the hook of the changing rooms. a man rounds the corner and his head jerks back as you drill a neat hole in the centre of his forehead. you dive for cover, eyeing the line of bullets that chased your heels. you won't be able to catch him at this angle. swiftly, you empty the chamber and expel the magazine, snapping a new one in place. you skid it across the floor and jungkook grabs it as if it's a lifeline. in this building, it is.

"thank god for bullets," he whispers. the suppressing gunfire bearing down on you comes from the mezzanine above and he lines up the man's head in his sights – pop. he manages to pop a few more before they shout out and realise he's armed.

he ducks behind the desk a semi-auto hammers his position. he twists around the other way, eyes flitting over the scene. he can't move without getting hit, and you're too far away and struggling with your own personal horde. he slams his head against the desk and curses colourfully.

it's all his fault. he asked you to check out the gear in the other room. you'd been hesitant, lingering behind him longer than necessary, and only left once he gave the order a second time.

"peek your pretty little head out, dokkaebi," calls the man pimped out in a gold tuxedo and bleached blond hair. the familiar sound of a suppressed assault rifle pocks holes in his cover from left to right. he laughs, piercing over the sound of gunfire. "i've been meanin' to give these girls a test run! let's see if you're as immortal as your namesake..."

it's always the rich ones. nobody else has the balls to have dokkaebi hunting them down.

jungkook does what he can. he has fourteen bullets left and eight people to kill. with luck, you'll take out a few, and he can afford some body shots – especially in a room as big as this, and with just a pistol. adrenaline pounds in his ears, zinging along his nerves.

"left stairs!" your voice is sharp and precise.

he whips over and nails the man mid-step. he tumbles to the ground like a ragdoll. he turns back to the gunfight, taking aim down the sights and placing heads between the small green dots.

before he knows it, the room falls into uncanny silence. he stays behind cover until your voice rings out in the bathhouse:

"clear."

he stands slowly, taking the time to survey the damage. the hot water is threaded with pools of red and a few bodies slump in the water, guns a few inches from their hands.

he sighs as you jog down the stairs, stepping closer to lay his head on your chest. his heart still races. "and here i thought you were the expert."

you shrug, unbothered. "expert on how criminals think, evidently. boys with too much money and not enough brains are another breed entirely. his ugly tie could feed a hundred families."

he watches you for a while. he grins, and it widens as you move away to check over the bodies for stragglers. "you're annoyed."

"no, i'm not."

"yes, you are," he insists. "you're upset that you didn't predict this."

"if i didn't predict it, we'd both be dead."

"technicalities." he waves a hand, leaning against what remains of a marble pillar. a large chunk has fallen into the bath at his feet. "what was it you said? mercenary first and partner second? you got distracted by the number of zeroes he was waving in our faces." he laughs good-naturedly. "acted like a true merc, baby. no need to admit it – i already know."

you push down a man's sleeve. two ace cards are tattooed on his wrist. "men were hired. some old faction that still likes identifying features like this. nothing's more stupid when you're a mercenary. we won't have to worry about retribution, but we'll have to do something about the mess in the building."

"you're deflecting," he coos. "aw, baby, don't get butthurt. it’s so adorable."

you arch a brow. "adorable that i almost got us killed?"

"'almost' being the key word. but hey – everyone has their flaws. i'm pretty proud, and so are you. we both got our comeuppance." he nudges your shoulder cheekily as you fall into step beside him. he swings your hands together between your bodies, and the night air curls around you tightly. "i admit, i still have dreams about our first meeting. sometimes you win. sometimes i win. sometimes i never see the end. but all the time, i think you're beautiful."

your face heats up and you turn away, hearing jungkook giggle next to you. "don't say that..."

"aw, you're blushing! you're totally blushing." he stops you, spinning in front of you and reaching up to cup your cheeks. his hands are rough, callused across the bottoms of his fingers, but warm and gentle.

he smiles, those dark doe eyes of his so soft and peaceful. "you're my beautiful, handsome boyfriend. i never used to, but i dream of the future – and in all of them, you're in it: right there, next to me. i never see our faces but i know that in some of them we're old and grey in a little country cottage, and in others, it's tomorrow, and we're both so soaked in blood we can't tell whose it is. what i can see is that i love you – very, very much, even if i don't say it, and i know i'll love you forever, whatever happens. with all that said and done..."

he reaches into his pocket, withdrawing a single grenade. he pulls the pin, his fingers keeping the striker lever in place, and goes down on one knee.

he lifts the ring with a crooked grin, his eyes shining with mischief. "will you marry me, my one true love?"

you're still holding your handgun. it clatters to the pavement, and jungkook's smile is as radiant as the sun as you extend your left hand. he settles the ring over your knuckle and stands slowly, tossing the grenade into the open doors of the bathhouse without tearing his gaze off of yours.

"i always imagined you'd be more verbal at this point," he whispers through his beaming smile, clutching your hands to his chest. "maybe even a 'you're not so bad yourself'?"

instead, you twist your fingers in his dark curls and smash your lips to his. it says a million things you could never put into words, and he curls his arms around your shoulders, holding on for dear life as his lips move hungrily against yours. in the darkness, sparks fly, and the golden glow of purity expands and bursts: a booming, echoing roar that tumbles through the sky like a comet unchained.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x male reader #jeon jungkook x male reader #jungkook x reader #bts x male reader #kpop x male reader #x male reader #male reader #m!reader

168 notes · View notes

sweetiereads · 2 years ago

Text

@angelguk,

Expect every single one of your fics to make an appearance on my blog at this point bc UGH

I love this series so much, I don't even know where to begin. The 'falling in love with your best friend' trope has been done before. It's timeless and with good reason, especially when it's written as well as you have done it.

Something i love about your writing is how the descriptions reveal themselves like a present. With each line we learn more about this world you've created. Whether it be about the characters themselves ( inner dialogue, motives, literally who they are as individuals... etc) or the setting. It really is in those details that brings things to life.

On that note, the way you write characters is more than addicting. They are so full of personality, each and every single one of them are distinct and just so vibrant. As I've mentioned earlier, you've somehow made it so that they are truly their own individuals and not just decorum for the story. I love the way you write reader here, she is so relatable. Like for real, she reminds me so much of myself lmao. In many of the scenes I'd think ' I would definitely do that or think that too.' My favourite thing about your writing is how effortless the banter is between the characters as well as their dynamics. It makes everything so much more enjoyable, like we are a part of this friend group. The humourous touch also creates a wonderful balance between the angst sections.

spoiler: This story specifically relies on the readers point of view for the most part, so I love how unreliable her pov is. Her assumptions of jk and his relationship with nayeon keeps driving a wedge between them and she's more susceptible to taehyungs tactics. It also makes me wonder if taehyung knows more than he lets on. If he does... Why doesn't he just say something ?? 😫 I'm so worried that if this continues it'll get to a point where jk and reader's relationship might not be salvageable, they just keep hurting each other because they don't communicate; especially if she agrees with tae's proposal. However, bc of what reader experienced in the past with jk and siyeon, and how he treated her, I don't blame her for jumping to conclusions the way she does in the current timeline.

Anyways, I'm probably speaking nonsense at this point. Just know that I really love what you have for the series so far. You're a comfort writer to me so don't expect this to be the last review from me, hehe. I'll be reading and rereading from you often.

with love,

sana ♡

link to : part 3

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐢 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 — 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: jeon jeongguk is your best friend—and nothing more. you’ve grown up with the guy, watched him stumble through his awkward puberty, cheated on tests with him, witnessed his first kiss (which only happened because you persuaded him to kiss dara). your bond was virtually unbreakable bond. but now you’re in college and jeongguk isn’t an awkward preteen who needs your help to get girls anymore. it creeps onto you slowly, that feeling you’re harbouring for your best friend. but you’re determined to ignore—that is until taehyung sets off a chain of events that land you in a very interesting predicament.

how this works!

after every new installment a google forum voting session will take place. this is an interactive story so any ideas or concepts you have please feel free to share! updates are weekly <3

PREQUELS

drabble #1 - could you maybe…hold my dick?

drabble #2 - hehe boobies

drabble #3 - i don’t want to fight with you

drabble #4 - mistakes (set in the far far future of this universe) (this one is sent after the fic ends / warning for angst)

PARTS

1 - are the stars in your favour?

2 - jessica rabbit

3 - don't forget to read the fine print

#hi readers!! note: part three has been posted by the author i'll link it at the bottom of my review if you have trouble finding it 🤍#prequels are just as good so make sure to read them too!#kinda hate tae #gotta protect reader #wanna shake both reader and jk lmao #g: fluff #g: angst #g: crack #g: smut #bts x reader #series #best friends to lovers #college au #r: m #m: jungkook

723 notes · View notes

kooktrash · 10 months ago

Text

lost & found | jeon jungkook

summary:your college years have never been something you dwelled on for too long. you didn’t want to think of all the chances you lost and that’s why when the guy you had a crush on moves back to town, you try not to let it affect you again. but then he brings up old memories that didn’t go the way you thought they had and you’re thrown for a loop. you’re stuck between finding something new with him and falling back into old habits of never standing up for yourself. it probably doesn’t help that he dated your best friend, where everything seemed to go wrong.

➣ genre/au: jungkook x reader [she/her, female anatomy], mid-20’s friendships. what kind of au is this? smut, plot

➣18.7k words

warnings: heavy plot. smut. a little bit of angst if you squint. tae is oc defender. shy oc. jk is an old college classmate. oc and jk got complicated, misunderstood history :(. oc is kinda insecure? bathroom sex. teasing. foreplay [f and m receiving]. very neeeedddy, long time waited sex.. unprotected. jk fucks oc on the counter, on the door. jk is tatted up but not in his college days. heavy makeout. breast play. fingering. dirty talk. oc goes down on jk as a thx 🤧 jk dated oc’s bestie but there’s HISTORY. oc’s bestie is the real villain im sorry. took advantage of two insecure college kids >:( love lost, love found vibes. just read I swear it’s not that bad 😭 no cheating. FRIEND BREAK UPS. oc gets confident toward the end

song inspo: bff — jesse

As you settle into adulthood, you learn a few things about friendships. There tends to be a slight divide between those you’ve known since you were young and those you’ve collected over the years. Some might value the friendships they’ve held longer more than those that are more recent but for others, what matters is the trust that comes with friendship no matter with whom it might be with. You’re somewhere in between, you think.

You have people like Taehyung who you’ve only recently started to get to know and have had a chance to grow close with. He doesn’t know everything about you yet but he doesn’t need to, he seems to understand enough now to be an important person in your current life. He’s the kind of friend you're thankful you’ve met on some random occasion.

Then you have someone like your best friend, Miyoung. You’re not sure the last time you had ever been truly without her at your side. From your earlier school years to college, to now when you’re both settled into what would essentially be your careers and private lives. She’s… she's special to you in a way that you're not sure you could ever find in someone else—or at least that’s what she says?

There hasn’t been a time where it wasn’t the two of you practically glued together at the hip and you credit her for her outgoing nature that always seemed to balance with your more introverted demeanor. Of course it didn't mean you couldn’t make friends without her [take Taehyung for example] but she’s always seemed to gravitate people toward you with her energy. That’s why you're not at all surprised by tonight’s events and how everyone seemed surprised that you came alone.

”Honestly, I’m happy you made it, it feels like we haven’t seen each other in so long,” Your friend, Hoseok, pointed out as he led you to the private area of the lounge bar where it seemed like a reunion was taking place, “When Miyoung said she wasn’t going to make it, I thought you probably weren’t going to show up and—“

”Is that what you would have preferred?” You asked with a teasing smile as he began to stumble over his words, attempting to backtrack.

“What? Y/n, don’t you know I’ve been desperately enamored by you since your first year? Don’t make such crass comments,” He joked back, helping you out of your coat as you grew closer to the room filled with loud chatter. He led you with hands on your shoulders and said, “And between us, I’m a little happy she didn’t come. I wasn’t really in the mood for this to turn into a Battle of the Exes fighting ground.”

”What do you mean?” You barely had time to ask as you entered the room where an explosion of your name was heard by old college classmates of yours who all seemed on the border of tipsy and in a good mood. You couldn’t help but smile, looking at everyone at once till your eyes fell on the person in question.

He didn’t hesitate to meet your gaze with equal surprise as you sat across from him, just one person down the line. Immediately the people next to you tried sparking a conversation and you used it as a distraction to keep from gawking at him. When Miyoung told you she wouldn’t make it, you debated coming yourself but after some begging from Hoseok you decided to come along. Despite your best friend not joining, you're kind of glad she didn’t. Hoseok is right, it would have been a battlefield and you did not want to be caught in the middle of it.

“Y/n.”

Ignore, maybe? Just ignore and maybe he’ll forget trying to talk to you and your head won't be on the chopping block. You looked down the table at some of the other people you remember from campus activities or long lectures and tried to ignore the growing smile you could see on his face from the corner of your eye.

“Hungry?” The person next to you asked as he made you look his way. There were platters of hand food across the bar table and you happily took whatever Jimin offered. As much as you hated it, you couldn’t help but look across the table to make sure it really was who you thought it was,

Jeon Jungkook.

Better known as your best friend’s ex boyfriend.

Or worse, the first guy you liked when you started University.

”Hi,” he said in a low voice, catching you in the middle of staring at him. In your defense, he seemed so different—more matured if you will. Now he was covered in tattoos and piercings, he lost that sort of boyish charm but clearly gained something else along the way. He was buff and bigger, more intimidating yet alluring? Safe to say he didn’t look like the ‘Boy Next Door’ you had a crush on in your English seminar.

“You’re here,” was all you could think to say back, giving up on your sorry attempt at ignoring him for no real reason other than saving yourself from an awkward encounter.

”So are you,” Jungkook bit into his bottom lip as he looked at you closely. How is it that someone could look so different but the same all at once? In your gaze he could still see that curiosity in everything that he remembered from back then when he would spend lectures wondering what was on your mind. In your appearance, he can see how much you’ve changed physically. They were surely small differences in everyone else’s eyes but he always had a tendency to pay too much attention to you and it would get him in trouble.

You gave him a polite nod in response to his blatant observation that matched yours and attempted to shift your attention elsewhere but he didnt let it get too far. He cleared his throat, “How have you been?”

“Me?” You asked, “Okay, I guess. Busy with work.”

“So I’ve heard, you’re in marketing now, right? What happened to your writing?” Jungkook asked, seeming genuinely curious to know. He didn’t care for the conversations happening around him more than he did hearing your response now that you looked more willing to give him one.

“It wouldn’t have paid the bills—You remember my writing?” You asked, surprise evident in your features that he couldn’t help but smile.

It was hard for him to forget his biggest competition at the time. He let out a small sigh, ready to go on about being unable to forget a certain piece you wrote when a firm hand was placed on his shoulder. Yoongi stood over him, “Smoke break?”

Say no, he thought. Jungkook could easily reject the offer and continue what he was going to say. Without meaning to, he looked back at you, but you had excused yourself from the table in the blink of an eye. Nodding hesitantly, he grabbed his jacket and followed his friend out while he wondered where you went so suddenly.

You were hiding in the washroom when you got the call from Miyoung, like she had a sixth sense telling her to reach out.

“So how is it? Is it as boring as I said it’d be?” Miyoung asked as she waited in line for some nightclub she was going to with some of her various other friends.

“Um, kind of?” You said without much thought—knowing it was what she wanted to hear. In reality, it was fun. You were greeted warmly that it washed away your earlier worries and you’re being taken care of by old friends you didn't get to talk to as much. Not to mention, you’re seeing Jungkook again after a couple years of hearing and thinking of nothing about the guy, so you don’t actually think it's boring.

Miyoung snorted, “Figures, good thing I didn’t go. I could not sit through more than an hour of everyone going on and on about what they’ve been up to. I mean, yeah I miss Hobi and stuff but I could see him whenever, y’know? Who all showed up?”

“I think everyone,” You admitted with a nervous bite of your lip. It was now or never. You tell her that it seems like Jungkook has come to visit or has come back to stay and you’re not sure how she’ll take that. She might even march over here just to tell him how she's felt these last two years and chances are that’ll ruin the easy vibe for everyone else. You leaned against the stall door and talked with her.

“So you’re back,” Yoongi asked with a smirk as he took a drag from his cigarette, “My Golden Boy’s back? Someone pinch me.”

“Funny guy,” Jungkook said sarcastically as he looked out onto the busy street. Yoongi shrugged, turning toward the bar window looking around to see the group, “Aren’t you happy you came?”

“Yeah, it’s great seeing everyone again,” Jungkook told him casually, flicking the end of his cigarette and watching the ash fall to the cold cement of the street.

“Want to know who surprised me tonight?” Yoongi asked, looking over at him to see if his expression would change at all, “Y/n.”

Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, dropping ash to the ground, “Y/n never comes out to these sorts of things, and if she does come it’s usually with Miyoung but she came by herself tonight.

“Yeah…” Jungkook zoned out a bit as he thought about it more, “Why doesn’t she meet up with you guys often?”

“You know Y/n doesn't really go out,” Yoongi said, “And she’s busy with work, at least that’s what Hobi says. I don’t know, when Hobi said Miyoung wasn’t coming tonight we both expected Y/n to not show too but… hey, aren’t you happy she isn’t here?”

“I don’t really care either way,” Jungkook confessed truthfully, “But do you know if… y’know, you might have heard something about Y/n and if she’s still seeing someone or—“

“Oh God,” Yoongi couldn’t help but laugh as he put his cigarette out, Jungkook doing the same, “It’s been like three years, man.”

Jungkook watched him laugh as he walked off leaving him to follow, “What?”

Yoongi held the door open for him, “You know what, but I’ll answer your question, anyway. Last I heard Y/n is single, so what now?”

He waited for Jungkook to respond but he wasn’t listening anymore. There were too many things on his mind that he needed to work out before you came back to the table.

“What do you mean you’re leaving? You just got here,” Jimin said to you as he held your hand in his to stop you from leaving, “One more drink.”

“It’s late,” You tried to say, “I’ve got to be up early.”

“Liar, it’s a Saturday night, Y/n. Sit your ass back down,” Hobi said with a firm voice making you sit down immediately. He flashed you a cute smile before asking everyone if they wanted another round of drinks.

“So, what were we talking about earlier?” Jungkook asked, trying to get you to talk to him again, “Your writing? Yeah, how can I forget it? Remember we used to read each other’s essays all the time before… well.”

Before he broke up with your best friend.

“Yeah, I remember,” You admitted, trying to find something to say. What kind of questions would Miyoung want to know? What do you want to know? What should you prepare your friend to know? “How long are you visiting?”

“Actually, I just moved back, I got a job doing graphic design for a local company,” Jungkook told you with the hint of a smile, “It’s my first time meeting up with everyone again.”

You let yourself indulge in small talk with him here and there but usually when he started it. The night had been fine, you enjoyed your time but after a while all you wanted to do was go home and Hoseok couldn’t make you stay any longer. You ended your night wondering if you should go out more.

Everything has a backstory, right? How it all started and yours seems pretty tacky. You spent the first couple years of University doing what you had to do in school and letting Miyoung drag you to whatever outing she had on the weekends. Some time in your third year, you joined this English class with the most boring, monotonous professor ever and that’s where you met Jungkook.

In all honesty, you thought he was cute from the get go. Sitting through three hours of a boring lecture led people to do odd things and one of those for you was staring at the cute guy who sat down a couple rows from you. It was just a little thing you did to pass time so you never expected anything to actually happen from it.

Then one day most of the seats were taken [naturally, it was a large class] and he seemed to have been running late because his usual cycle of seats were all taken except the one next to yours. Despite all those times you would find yourself ogling the stranger, when he was right next to you, you didn’t say a single word.

It was Jungkook who spoke first and it was just to ask if you could help him catch up. That day you were supposed to read someone else’s prompt and revise it and you chose each other which then trickled down to a routine of it. Without speaking much, he would sit next to you or silently save you a seat whenever you were running late and the one time you decided to switch it up and sit elsewhere…

Well, he was practically pouting the whole day.

It had been a nearly perfect set up to what could have been if you just allowed yourself to go for things but it didn’t happen that way.

One random Tuesday night, Miyoung wanted to go out for some cheap drinks and you found yourselves at a bar not too far from campus where you ran into a senior in one of your classes. Yoongi had come up to you first, just greeting you and making small talk when Jungkook who apparently had come with him, recognized you too.

They drank with you and Miyoung for a bit and you honestly thought it had been fun. You had never had real conversations with him outside of school work and it was nice to have more people to hang with that it just felt natural. Though at some point through the night Miyoung had gotten kind of flirty. She claims she assumed you had wanted Yoongi and not Jungkook and practically called dibs on him despite meeting him for the first time that night.

When she made her intents obvious, you couldn’t help but backtrack.

You always considered yourself pretty self aware about yourself. There was nothing special really and when you compare yourself to Miyoung there just isn’t much competition.

She was the perfect Prom Queen type who always had the nicest clothes or the cutest boyfriends, the best awards and most interesting stories. The amount of guys she would pull who you didn’t even have a chance with was insane. And though you might sound bitter, you’re not. You’ve never been the type to want the spotlight or attention and being best friends with someone so damn perfect was that you could always stay in the shadows.

So when she started flirting with Jungkook, you didn’t really notice his awkward glances or how he shied away from her proximity. You only saw how he smiled politely and listened to her go on and on about how great she is and assumed he was into her like all the others had been.

You tried to act normal after that, you would talk to him every now and then and never questioned why he stopped talking to you as much until he started dating Miyoung but you weren’t bitter. You were understanding.

It made sense he would date her. She was beautiful and smart and someone people pine for. It was a given that that would happen so once again, you didn’t take it personal.

They dated for a couple months [nothing serious at all] and then he dumped her which resulted in Miyoung practically forbidding you from even looking his way at all. You completed your last year without thinking about him despite the various mutual friends you shared and went on with your life when he moved.

That was the backstory and why you felt so awkward seeing him the other night.

You haven’t told Miyoung yet because there’s a high chance she won’t care at all and would get annoyed that you even thought to bring it up. Your friend is very pretty and she likes being in relationships so she’s been in quite a few since they dated and probably doesn’t care to be reminded at all.

The only person you’ve told is Taehyung.

“But did you at least have fun?” He asked as the two of you sat at a small restaurant for lunch. You nodded your head, “Yeah, it was alright. It was just weird, for me at least.��

“Why?” Taehyung asked as he dug into his meal, stuffing his mouth with no care in the world, “I mean it’s obvious everyone was happy to see you and didn’t want you to leave. Who cares if Miyoung didn’t go, clearly it didn’t matter to anyone else.”

You didn’t say anything, taking your time to enjoy your meal as you drifted off in thought. He is right, you know that sometimes it’s just in your head and you overthink things. You always feel like you’re boring to others so it’s natural for you to assume no one would be happy to see just you and not your bubble of joy best friend. There has to be a certain level of comfort between you and another person to show personality and it’s rare people get to see it.

“But how’d it go with that guy? Did he ask you about her?” Taehyung asked with a hint of curiosity.

“Not that I can remember. I don’t know, it was kind of awkward but we talked a bit,” You told him honestly, “He just moved back down so that’s cool I guess.”

Taehyung looked at you skeptically but you avoided his gaze, trying to distract yourself with your phone.

yoongi: throwing a welcome back party for jk this weekend, u coming?

you: idk, if I’m free

yoongi: … ur always free🤒

yoongi: just say yes, bring whoever u want

you: but is he ok with me going

yoongi: y wouldn’t he be

yoongi: he’s the one who asked me to make sure u come

you: okkkkkk 🥹

“Tae, can you come with me to this party please?” You asked, immediately showing your friend your text messages leaning across the table for him to see them clearly.

Taehyung’s brows furrowed as he read through the texts carefully, “Jungkook is the ex boyfriend, right? Why’s he so interested in you going?”

“He’s not,” you said, “He’s probably just doing it to be nice, since everyone I know will be there.”

“What if he’s… y’know, interested?” Taehyung asked curiously and you nearly choked on your drink.

“No, oh my god,” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “We were just classmates and we stopped talking after he dumped Miyoung so—“

“Yeah but did you ever stop to think ‘hm, I’m the one who knew this guy first and then Miyoung went and snatched him from me before I even got a chance to explore’,” Taehyung said in a high pitched voice, presumably mocking yours. You reached over to playfully shove his shoulder making him grin mischievously.

“What? No, it wasn’t like that at all,” You tried to say, “Him and I didn’t even really talk until the night he met her at the bar and… no, that’s crazy. He liked Miyoung right away.”

Taehyung just sighed, giving up on trying to get through to you, “If you say so, but who’s the one he approached first? Because I can tell you right now it wasn’t her.”

Despite how he expresses himself when he talks about your best friend, he doesn’t dislike her. He thinks Miyoung is alright, maybe a little too much for his tastes but that doesn’t mean anything. He understands the two of you are really close and although he has had many chances to befriend her too, he just hasn’t.

He’ll talk to her if you force them to hang out together but he would never go out of his way to be her friend. It might sound bad but Taehyung is pretty protective over you and rightfully so, he feels.

He doesn’t want to badmouth one of his closest friends but you have a tendency to overthink things. You don’t realize how great you are and make yourself seem smaller and he thinks Miyoung and other people like her in your life are at fault. He’s heard some of the things she says to you and it’s like you hold her up so highly there’s no room for you to see how pretty, smart, and talented you are. And before anyone gets the wrong idea, he’s not in love with you or anything.

You’re too good for him so he gave up on that idea long ago.

Plus, now that he’s able to connect some of those pieces from when you were in Uni, some things are clicking into place for him. Miyoung tends to dim your light a bit, or copy something you do and claim it as her own and when he hears this little backstory between all of your old college friends… he just can’t help but wonder if Jungkook was one of those things she claimed for herself.

With that thought in mind, he agreed to go with you to this party and see for himself what is there and what could be. He just wants what’s best for you and for you to be able to go and get it without worrying you’re not good enough or stepping on anyone’s toes.

When Friday night came, your apartment was filled with loud music and even louder complaints coming from one person in particular. Taehyung was just listening to you and Miyoung go back and forth about tonight’s plans and it got to the point where you couldn’t say anything but the truth about what you would be doing tonight.

“It’s a welcome back party for Jungkook,” You said, trying your hardest not to let your voice sound strained.

“What? When did he get back?” Miyoung asked, sitting up from your bed and tossing your pillow off her lap, “Like he moved back?”

“Yeah, I guess not too long ago,” You said with a shrug, looking in your mirror to see if you liked the way you looked or not, “I don’t know, Yoongi is the one who invited me.”

“Why didn’t I know? Why wasn’t I invited?” Miyoung asked, turning to Taehyung like he would have the answers.

“Probably because you’re his ex girlfriend and you ditched out on their little reunion so you could party,” Taehyung said, not bothering to look up from his phone.

“Yeah but, why’d they ask Y/n? She’s not even friends with him,” Miyoung said with a slight scoff, “You’re not actually going right? We could go out, just the three of us. You already hung out with them, you and I haven’t gone out in weeks, let’s just do our own thing. Unless you’re trading me in for all of them.”

You looked at her with apologetic eyes. You’ve been busy with work recently and she is right. The last people you hung out with aside from Taehyung were all of them two weekends ago so it would only be fair to hang out with her this time. It shouldn’t mean anything that you were invited and that Jungkook wanted to make sure you were going. Miyoung was supposed to be your best friend so how could you go to a party she wasn’t invited to?

Just as you were going to give in and shoot Yoongi a text that you weren’t going to make it, Taehyung spoke up for you. “Why don’t you just come with? One of them said Y/n can bring whoever she wants and I’m already going so it’s not like you have to be by yourself. Plus, aren’t the rest of them supposed to be your friends too? Y/n already agreed.”

“Why didn’t you ask me first?”

“I didn’t realize I needed permission,” You couldn’t help but sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed to comfort her, “We can just stop by, have a drink or two and leave if it’s lame. Come on.”

After much convincing, the three of you arrive at Yoongi’s place which was a small house with good outdoor space and the inside was packed with people already. The amount of party goers made you anxious but at the same time slightly thrilled that surely the attention would never be on you with so many people around.

“Y/n! Miyoung!” Namjoon spotted you two first and he threw his arms around you both with a grin, “Surprised to see you here, Mimi.”

“Yeah, probably because I was the only one not invited,” Miyoung said bitterly, making Namjoon take a drink from his cup and look away nervously.

“Let’s get you guys drinks then,” He said with an awkward clear of his throat looking to Taehyung, “What’s up, I’m Namjoon.”

“Taehyung,” he said, following you to the drinks table. The music played loudly and there were a lot of people having a good time that it was somewhat easy to try and blend in and act normal. Miyoung had a pout on her face, looking around worried but Namjoon brightened her mood and every now and then another friend would stop by to greet her. Taehyung mostly clung to you and only drifted away when a friend would spark conversation with you but you were thankful he was around.

“Y/n,” someone called out to you from across the room. You couldn’t make them out through the crowd of people and it took a while before you spotted Jungkook making his way to your direction.

“Jungkook,” you said with a nervous breath, looking around for Miyoung but she was off with Namjoon talking about god knows what.

“How long have you been here? Why didn’t you say anything?” Jungkook asked, slightly more energetic than usual. His hair was messy, with strands out of place, he wore a basic black tee and baggy jeans so why did he look good? It’s still hard for you to wrap your mind around who this is.

He’s gotten so muscular and just… more intimidating with his tattoo sleeve and piercings and it’s so unexpected but in a good way.

“I, um, you know, I just assumed you were busy,” you lied, looking around for one of your friends. Taehyung was at the table getting a drink and he’ll be back soon to save you before Miyoung looks around.

Jungkook found himself looking around too, as if he could see what you did but he came up short, “Did you come with anyone?”

“Yeah, Miyoung and a friend of mine,” you rushed the words out in hopes of sounding casual but Jungkook didn’t even bat an eye.

“So what are you doing alone?” He asked with a raised brow, taking a step closer to you, “Actually, there’s something that’s been on my mind since last time I saw you and I uh… I haven’t had the chance to say it.”

You blinked nervously, looking up at him and how close he was to you, “What is it?”

He licked his lips, playing with his lip rings shyly, “Well, I was wondering if you would like to get together some time, just you and I. We’ve never had the chance to hang out.”

“We’re hanging out right now, aren’t we?” You asked, feigning naivety that almost seemed teasing. In truth, you could sense what he was possibly asking and you needed him to stop. There was no reason for you two to hang out alone, no matter how much the thought made you giddy.

“I guess,” Jungkook couldn’t help but let his eyebrows knit together in confusion. He took another step closer to you, hand on the wall behind you for support. , “But I was still hoping… I know it’s probably kind of awkward but we’re grown, right? We can get together without worrying about anyone else.”

“Who says it’s because I’m worried?” You asked with a hint of playfulness in an attempt to ease some of the growing tension caused by the way he looked at you, “Where is this coming from all of a sudden?”

That made him crack a smile, “All of a sudden?”

“Yes, all of a sudden,” another voice added in from behind him and you jumped at the sound. Jungkook didn’t bother to turn around, he was more focused on the way you tried to look behind him and meet Miyoung’s glare.

“Where’d you run off to?” You asked, pushing past him making Jungkook slide his hand off the wall and roll his eyes at the disruption.

“Somewhere I felt wanted,” she said bitterly, eyes on Jungkook as she spoke to you, “Let’s go, I’m bored.”

“I thought you were having a good ti—“

“I’m not, Y/n,” Miyoung almost snapped, “You said we could have a drink and go. We’ve been here for like forever and I want to leave. That’s what we agreed on.”

“Okay, jeez, let’s go then,” You said with a sigh, “Let me find Taehyung.”

“Go, then,” Miyoung said, making you take a deep breath, trying to tell yourself she had a right to be upset. She didn’t want you [as her best friend] talking to her ex boyfriend. And you did say you didn’t have to stick around for long…

“What?” Miyoung asked Jungkook with a roll of her eyes as she caught him staring, “Did I interrupt something?”

“You still don’t know how to speak to people like they’re human beings,” Jungkook said simply, “And it’s sad to watch.”

“Screw you,” Miyoung scoffed, “You’re just mad I stopped you from trying to ask my best friend out. My friends are off limits.”

“She was my friend too,” Jungkook said as a reminder, “And I can do whatever I want. You’re just childish.”

She snorted, “Right, says the guy who fumbled me.”

He couldn’t seem to act mature anymore and before he stop himself he said, “Remember, you’re not the one I wanted anyway.”

He walked off without much care for how she felt and found his other friends, wondering who it was you ran off to find.

“Tae, can we go now?” You asked your friend. Taehyung had found himself a group of people to entertain with his stories and had nearly forgotten who he had tagged along with until you pulled him to the side.

“Uh, okay,” Taehyung cleared his throat awkwardly, “What happened? I thought everyone was having a good time.”

“Miyoung wants to leave,” You said with a small sigh, “She saw me talking to Jungkook and I just don’t want it to become this big problem so can we please just go?”

Taehyung placed an arm on your shoulder, leading you to Miyoung who waited at the door, “Yeah, sure let’s go.”

The car had only stayed silent for the first half of the drive to Miyoung’s apartment. Somewhere between the last red light and this short stretch of road, a fire had been lit underneath her which made her start up again.

“So what was that back there?” Miyoung asked from the backseat and you debated just acting asleep or like you were too drunk to listen properly. She leaned forward, looking at you closely.

“What do you mean?” You asked nervously.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Miyoun said with an annoyed tone, “First you get invited to a party for my ex boyfriend and next thing I know the two of you are whispering in the corner looking like you’re about to kiss and like I’m not even in the room.”

Taehyung had to bite his tongue from responding, worried that if he spoke too soon it would only make you seem more weak to her antics. He just tapped his fingers against the window trying to keep silent

“Miyoung,” You started with a sigh, “You’re overreacting. It was nothing, we’re friends—“

“Since when?” Miyoung scoffed, “You’re supposed to be my friend, Y/n.”

“I am,” You said defensively, “And if you want to talk about this tomorrow then that’s fine but right now it’s late and we’ve all been having a decent time so don’t ruin it…”

“Y/n’s right, let’s end the night on a good note,” Taehyung finally said but he seemed to go ignored by you two.

“You’re not though, real friends wouldn’t flirt with their best friend’s ex boyfriend—“

“You two dated for less than five months and it was years ago,” You blurted out, “I knew him before that so don’t act like I’m betraying you.”

“Oh my god, I knew you’d still be bitter I started seeing him,” Miyoung said, suddenly making you hide your face in your hand from exhaustion. “I didn’t know you had a thing for him back then. You should’ve said something instead of holding it against me like you do everything else.”

“What are you talking about?” You couldn’t help but scoff.

Miyoung’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, “You know exactly what I’m talking about and it’s not fair.”

Taehyung took a deep breath, fingers clenched around the steering wheel unable to bite his tongue any longer, “Miyoung I don’t think you’re being fair. You’re clearly drunk and you just want to arg—“

“Shut up, Taehyung,” She snapped, slurring on her words a bit and not even realizing the car came to a stop in front of her building, “I’m not even talking you and you can stop acting like Y/n’s bodyguard because last time I checked she’s a grown adult who could speak for herself. God, I swear everyone is the same. Just because Y/n is boring and insecure, doesn’t mean she doesn’t know how to speak for herself.”

“Get out. We’re at your place so just go,” Taehyung said, annoyed with the harshness she was projecting on you, “Y/n might put up with you but I won’t.”

With an irritated scoff, she swung the back door open, “Fine, screw you guys too.”

The door slammed shut as she stormed up to her apartment and Taehyung waited till she was gone to say, “Fuck, what did that girl drink? Y/n, why do you put up with that? Hey.”

You stayed silent for a moment letting her words sink in. Whatever, she yelled and threw a tantrum, that’s fine, that’s normal. But she seriously thinks you’re just a bore and maybe you’re starting to believe it too. If it weren’t for you always being cautious over how she might feel about you and what you do, you wouldn’t seem so boring.

Or was that just how you were and now you’re trying to say it’s because of Miyoung? Jeez, you just can’t seem to make up your mind about anything but all you know is that… you’re not boring. Well, you don’t have to be. If she wants to think that always backing up whatever she says makes you boring, then maybe it’s time you just do what you want even if she doesn’t like it.

“Tae, can you do me a favor,” You finally said, making him look over at you curiously. The car is still parked in front of Miyoung’s place and he’s been waiting for you to speak anyway, “What?”

“Take me back to the party please.”

Miyoung was wrong, if you were boring it’s because she made you boring. Anytime you did anything on your own, she always had to ruin it and you just let her. You just let Miyoung monopolize your time and make you her right-hand in everything. You’ve never gotten the chance to truly put yourself out there because you firmly believed you didn’t compare.

Maybe you needed to stop overthinking and just do what you want, be confident—or at least act like you are.

“Y/n! You’re back?” Yoongi asked once you made it to the party again, “Let me tell you, I was mad because I thought you left before even talking to me.”

“I’m so very sorry,” You said playfully, “But do you know where Jungkook is?”

He seemed to freeze up, surprise written on his face and he looked down at you questioning. You held his gaze, watching the wheels turn in his head before he was blurting out, “I don’t know. The bathroom?”

You blinked nervously, letting him slip away from you when someone called for him and were left standing there. Your mind was racing with ideas yet you couldn’t think of what to do.

What did you expect coming back?

What does this prove?

You feel anxious and insecure and maybe she was right, you’re boring and you don’t even speak up or do anything exciting.

“Jungkook?” You called out to him as you walked down the hall of doors, knocking or opening whichever door you landed on. You got to the last door with a bated breath, realizing it’s a bedroom and closed yourself in.

Your sense of bravado had been short lived. Whatever burst of confidence you had was completely gone now that you sat alone in the guest room contemplating just going home or not.

In all honesty, this was stupid from the very beginning. You let Miyoung’s words get to you and you acted before you could think. You didn’t need to prove anything. Plus, you don’t want Jungkook. Maybe once before you did… but not… anymore?

God, you felt like an idiot.

“Y/n?”

Your heart dropped with a sense of disbelief as you looked up. The once pitch black room was illuminated by a block of light from the open bathroom door. Jungkook stood at the doorway, brows furrowed as he looked at who sat on the bed.

“Jungkook,” you cleared your throat awkwardly.

“You’re back?” He asked, looking you up and down with a hint of suspicion. You nodded your head silently, making him blink with confusion.

You stood up from the bed suddenly, “Are you done in there?”

“Uh, yeah,” he moved out of your way, watching you closely as you closed the door in his face before he could say anything else.

Maybe this had been a sign that you didn’t want to talk to him but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the privacy in the bedroom to go out where everyone else was. He could hear the faucet running but oblivious to how you wet your face to try and snap yourself out of this strange mood before drying off. When you opened the door, you didn’t expect to see him standing there right in front of you.

“Everything alright?” He asked, halfway in the doorway, walking forward making you step deeper into the bathroom.

“Yeah, everything’s great,” you said with a strained smile, backing away, “Just—what about you? Has it been fun, this is all for you, right?”

“I guess,” Jungkook shrugged, “But it would have been more fun if you stayed.”

“Good thing I came back then,” you couldn’t help but laugh nervously, leaning against the sink counter.

“Good thing,” Jungkook licked his dry lips, “Y/n, about what I was saying earlier… I would honestly like for us together sometime, just the two of us.”

A small, shy smile appeared on your lips as you thought about earlier and repeated yourself playfully, “We’re hanging out right now, aren’t we?”

“I guess,” he blinked in confusion, looking down at you and struggling to keep his composure. Your response was a bit of a let down since he hoped you had come back to see him and he should have known better. You would never take him seriously after his mess with Miyoung and he was always reaching for the stars thinking it could work out.

Plus, you’re too good for him. You always have been.

He can’t explain why, but he’s always felt a sense of ease with you, like everything was perfect. As shameful as it is to admit, Miyoung had reasons to be worried.

When they dated… well, it didn’t stop him from thinking about you from time to time. Miyoung was aware of it too and he looks back on it now and realizes how wrong he was then. It was wrong for him to think about you when he was never able to have you, and he will be much less now.

“Am I wrong? Is it not just the two of us now?” You asked, swallowing the lump in your throat and looking to the bathroom door which was closed some time ago.

“Y/n,” he said it softly but you could sense his warning tone, like you were going to get yourself in trouble. Jungkook wanted to believe you were aware of what this looked like yet he knew there was a chance you weren’t. He couldn’t just go for it.

He could not just go for it.

Not even if you looked up at him with a look in your eyes that said you might want him to…

He could be dreaming it up.

Would you want him to?

No. No way, you would never, that’s how this all started right? You wouldn’t want him the way he wanted you and you’ll go be with someone else while he beats himself up for another failed attempt. He’s not in college anymore, he can’t make the same mistakes.

You do not want him.

“Y/n,” he said with a sigh, “I think we should get out n—“

It was soft but sudden. One second he was giving up on everything he had been hoping for and was ready to go on once again without telling you how he really felt. The next, your lips were on his, barely giving him a chance to feel the tenderness of it before pulling away with a gasp.

“Jungkook,” you covered your mouth with your hand, “Oh my god. I’m s-sorry, I, that was not okay. I shouldn’t have done that.”

You were rambling, apologizing for doing it without asking him first but in all honesty, he couldn’t hear you anymore. There was a strange ringing in his ear that only seemed to stop when he grabbed your face in his hands, and pulled you into a real kiss.

To keep yourself from leaning back too far, you wrapped your arms around his neck and met him the rest of the way. You kissed him back with an equal sense of urgency that had his eyes falling shut and letting himself get lost in the moment. Your lips were soft against his own and his lip rings felt cold on your tongue the first couple times.

At one point you surprised him by nipping at his piercings with a soft tug and it had his hands tightening around your waist, using his strength to pull you onto the counter with ease. It made it easier to kiss you and he let the small sigh you let out guide his tongue between your lips. Your hands were in his dark hair, and you surprised him with the way you took lead of the kiss. It felt like he was melting into you and it was doing things to him.

“Y/n,” he mumbled softly, “I want you so bad.”

You pulled back from him with widened eyes. It was the first time you heard him sound that way and you knew he meant it. He looked at you with an intense gaze and it felt good to be looked at that way by him. You wanted him too, right? That’s why you came back. That's why you were so upset back then. Why can’t you have him now?

What was really stopping you?

Nothing.

The second time he kissed you, you didn’t hesitate from doing more and it had his mouth dropping when he felt your hand trace down his toned chest. He let that feeling motivate his hands to do the same to you and they ran along your sides till he could feel your front. His hands slipped under your top and found your chest, gently reaching to touch you as he kissed you with his tongue.

Your fingers trailed down his navel to the waistband of his jeans, tugging softly and teasingly that you felt the way he sucked in a shaky breath. When he didn’t pull away to tell you to stop, you took it as a sign to go a little farther and undo the button and zipper. Jungkook’s rough fingers caressed your breasts ever so softly but with an added pressure that made you let out a small sigh, especially when he ran his thumb over your nipples.

He released a light groan against your lips when you got more confident in your actions and slipped into the hem of his Calvin Klein’s. You barely touched his growing member but you felt it harden against you, the more attention you gave to it and it was all just exciting to you. His kisses were needy and his rough hands felt so good against your sensitive buds that you couldn’t hold yourself back. You wanted to make him feel good too and you could tell you were.

Jungkook helped you tug his jeans down enough for you to have more reign over him and you touched his bare dick so softly. The first touch was light and teasing, like you were still letting him get lost in the feeling before you actually did anything but it was soft that it made a tingle run down his spine. Goosebumps rose on his skin and blood ran straight to his cock making it easier for you softly palm him to full hardness.

You circled your fingers around his tip, softly running your thumb around the ring feeling him twitch with need and softly sliding down to his base.

His movement grew rougher, he was no longer softly caressing your breasts but more groping, never getting enough for the softness of them. When you began to stroke him gently, he found it hard to keep himself from digging his nails into your flesh to ground himself and it made a hand of his fall to your leg. His palm was wide and flat against your inner thigh, tracing his lips down your jaw and to your neck to try and distract himself from getting too lost into the feeling.

“Fuck,” he huffed, licking his dry lips as he began to slowly fuck into your closed fist, deaf to the sound of music just outside the bedroom you two were hiding in. The bathroom felt even smaller at this point yet he couldn’t bring himself to put a stop to it now. Especially not when your hand began to fuck his cock faster, with more vigor as he twitched in your hold making his nails dig into your thigh harshly.

Your skirt was scrunched up around your hips at this point and he could see the soft blue of your laced underwear and couldn’t stop himself anymore. He had grown too curious to have you and with his hand so close already, he let his thumb trace along your covered folds.

They were already sensitive at this point and his sudden touch made your insides tighten with arousal, your back straightened in surprise and a light moan left your lips. The sound snapped his attention away from his own pleasure and when he did it again, he swallowed your moan with his mouth on yours.

He couldn’t take thing slow anymore, especially not when his dick felt so close to the edge already and was trying not to cum all over your hand and so soon.

You were withering against him, squirming on the counter to feel more of his hand against your heat. Your fingers tightened in his hair when he reached under to the hem of your panties, pulling them down as far as he could. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he tugged them down your thighs. Jungkook pulled away from your lips with a slight groan as he brought his fingers to your lips. He pressed into your bottom lip watching close as you drew your mouth open and took them in. As you licked between two fingers, your hand’s stroking sped up with more pressure that had him pushing them deeper down your throat.

When he pulled them out there was an obvious line of drool connecting his fingertips to your lips and he brought his hand between your legs once more. The mixture between his rough fingers and the slick that now coated them made a tingle run down your spine when they ran along your folds. You pinched the fabric of his shirt as he circled your hardening clit with his middle finger while his index finger began to tease your sensitive labor.

He ran the longer finger down your slit, dipping into the puddle of arousal that formed at your center before using it to wet your clit and massage you gently.

You looked into his eyes as he finally pressed his middle finger into your waiting cunt, giving you a second to respond and he couldn’t help but let his lips slip open with heavy breaths. Your hand stopped its actions as you took in the feeling of him pulling out his finger before pushing it forward once more. Each time felt hotter than the last and it made him want to take things further. When he thought you adjusted enough, he teased the tip of his ring finger in with his middle one and kept a steady pace of thrusting.

At this point you began to stroke him again, rubbing against his mushroom tip where a thick vein was felt along the underside of it. Your hips had began to move with the motion of his hand and you were fucking his fingers into you while fucking his cock with a closed fist. The both of you were left speechless, unsure how long you had been locked away in the bathroom but not caring either.

You felt more impatient than him but you couldn’t help it. You can’t remember the last time you let someone else touch you and none felt quite like this. Jungkook seemed to know where to kiss, where to press or pay attention to and he never left a part of you untouched. Even now as he thrusted his fingers into you, his other hand was at your chest again, fingers pinching your nipple and tugging harshly but it brought little whines from your lips.

“Jungkook,” You were breathlessly calling for him and you’re sure that if your back wasn’t to the mirror, you would be able to see how desperate you looked to him. Your other hand was on his hips, pulling him forward in hopes of getting him to get the hint that you needed more, “Fuck me.”

“What?” He asked with heavy breaths, looking down at the way the tip of his cock pressed against your inner thigh now, “Really?”

“Please,” You found yourself begging, desperately begging for him to give you something and oh, how it worked.

His eyes rolled back at the soft sound of your begs and with a hand on your thigh, he pulled you harshly to the edge of the counter. He placed his hand over yours and stroked himself once, twice, to slick his member with your arousal and his own.

His cock was hot to the touch and pointed straight to your waiting entrance. He had made such a mess of you already that when he pressed his tip into your clit, it nearly slid down from how wet you are. You had to bite your lip to keep from whining too loud when he teased you with that repeated motion, wetting his tip more and feeling the way your walls tightened and released for him.

Your back was fully against the mirror now, legs open waiting for him and you were getting impatient. The anticipo had been building up for too long and you brought your hand between your legs. All it took was a soft push down for his cock to sink into your waiting pussy.

His jaw went slack at the sudden tightness of it, he hadn’t expected it to be so snug. His tip barely pushed against the ring of nerves and your facial expression matched his own when he kept going. He held your thighs open, guiding himself in with a deep breath.

“Fucking hell,” he growled lowly, hands trembling as he kept you open and ready to take him in. He looked up at your eyes, completely enamored by the way your features softened with pleasure. Your eyes were glazed over with obvious lust that made him want to just fuck you into oblivion.

“Oh my god,” your hand circled around his neck, pulling him into a sloppy wet kiss that left him biting your lip softly. He groaned against your lips as he picked up the pace of his thrusting, letting his cock drag against your puffy walls so that you could feel every juncture on his length. Your back was arched into him, your chest nearly pressed against his and he snuck his arm around your waist to pull you firmly against him.

“That’s it baby,” Jungkook groaned into your ear, gripping onto the counter with his free hand to fuck you better. You were on the edge of the sink and he bucked his hips up to reach that pleasure spot he had found with his fingers just moments ago and had you moaned loudly into his ear, “You sound pretty, tell me how it feels.”

“Feels good,” you whispered softly against his neck, lips teasing kisses against his skin that made the veins in his arms bulge, “Don’t stop, please.”

“Ngh, Y/n, beg for me,” Jungkook said with a deep voice filled with lust as he fucked you with all his strength. There were too many layers of clothing between you but neither of you seemed to have the time or energy to tear them off. You were both too focused on the pleasure that came from feeling his skin against yours.

Your legs tightened around his waist forcing more of his length into your sopping cunt and his fingers pinched your sides roughly. Without thinking, Jungkook lifted you off the counter. You clung to him as he stepped back and he needed a second to just feel the way your pussy tightened around his hard, thick cock. He wanted to dig into your guts and it was nasty how badly he wanted to have you cum all over him.

It was so unexpected because you always came off as a quiet, reserved person but here you were letting him tear you in two with his fat dick. Jungkook used his strength to push you against the door, letting you drop onto his length before backing his hips up and pistoning them back into you.

“Fuck, I can’t,” your legs tightened around him with your face digging into his neck, “Jungkook, baby, I can’t.”

“You can,” He whispered, pressing you firmly into the wall, “Come on baby, take it.”

“Too much,” You whined, squeezing your eyes shut as he picked up the pace and you searched around for something to hold. Your hand tightened around the doorknob, trying to anchor yourself as he fucked you so good you could barely focus on anything but the pleasure, “I’m so close.”

Jungkook’s hand held you firmly by the waist while the other cupped your ass, groping you harshly as he fucked you onto his length trying to make you cum, “Cum baby, for me. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you moaned, “Kiss me, please?”

He didn’t hesitate to do so, kissing you with tongue as you clung to him, moaning into his ear and shaking slightly. His knees buckled tightly to hold you up and just as he gave one final thrust to the hilt, he felt your orgasm hit you.

Your walls tightened around him, nearly bringing him to his own orgasm before feeling his tip get flooded with your release. His thighs shook with the pressure of it and he felt his strength leaving him. His abdomen grew tense and he pushed you back to the counter where you let your head fall back with pleasure. You swallowed dryly, panting heavily, “Oh my god.”

You were sweaty, tired and overall unsure what to think but your mind hadn’t cleared yet. All you could focus on was the way Jungkook’s dick throbbed painfully hard when he pulled out of you with a slight pop. You eyed his red member, slightly hypnotized by how pretty it looked and you dropped to your knees wordlessly.

Jungkook watched you slip down on your knees in front of him and it took him a moment to process what was going on. He was hard, so fucking hard he couldn’t think straight and it wasn’t until your hands held his thighs, eyeing his cock hungrily did he realize what you wanted to do. He brought a hand fo attempt and gently brush your hair back, “Y/n, baby, you don’t have t—oh fuck.”

His jaw went slack when your hands circled his base, your lips on his tip and taking him down your throat suddenly. Your nose brushed against the base of his cock, eyes watering as you tried relaxing your throat around him and he nearly stumbled back with surprise, “Y/n.”

You ignored his call of your name, and began to bob your head against his length, your tongue licking along the thick vein you discovered earlier and feeling his hands sink into your hair to guide you, “That’s it, fuck.”

Jungkook looked at his reflection in the mirror, turned on by the way your head was seen bobbing against his length and his body was overheating so much he had to pull his shirt over his toned chest to cool down. It gave him a perfect view of the way his cock disappeared between your lips.

The thought of having you like this hadn’t dawned on him yet but now he couldn’t forget it. The memory would always be ingrained in his mind and although he doesn’t know if he’ll never get a chance to do this again, he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

You gradually began to pick up the pace, using your hands to hold closed fists around his cock to help stroke what didn’t fit in your mouth. You swallowed and bobbed around his dick hungrily, moaning around him and hollowing your cheeks when you would pull your head back until only his tip was between your lips.

As ashamed as he was to admit it, he wasn’t going to be able to hold himself back anymore. Still wanting to warn you, he tried to guide your head off him, “I’m close.”

All it did was push you to take him deeper, stopping when he hit the back of your throat and sucked. Jungkook’s eyes squeezed shut with a loud growl as his orgasm hit him harder than it had in a very long time.

You coughed as his cum sprayed down your throat, thick and creamy with a bittersweet taste that you tried to lick up. You would’ve cleaned him off fully despite his legs shaking but he pulled you off. He pulled his softening dick out of your wet mouth with a huff, panting heavily as he looked down at you.

“Y/n,” his voice was dry, pulling you up to your feet, “That was…”

He couldn’t even get the words out as he watched you lick the corner of your lips and without thinking about it, he pulled you into a heated kiss. You kissed him back with need, moaning against him as his tongue circled around yours hungrily, not caring for the way he tased on you. You only broke away to catch your breath, realization dawning at you as you looked at his messy appearance that surely mirrored yours.

You sat against the counter for a moment, attempting to catch your breath as Jungkook did the same. The two of you were silently readjusting your clothes again and you needed just a moment to yourself. He looked at you, buttoning his jeans back up, “Is everything… okay?”

“Yeah, um, can I just get a minute,” You said with a hoarse voice trying to pretend like you couldn’t see the way his shoulders slumped down. With a short nod of his head, he left the bathroom to let you wash up and for a moment you just looked at yourself in the mirror.

Your reflection looked different, maybe because what you had just done was so out of character and with your best friend’s ex but… why did it feel right?

Jungkook wondered what would happen now, if you expected him to leave the room or wait for you but he wanted to be with you. He didn’t want to walk out and think that because he got something he’s been wanting for years now, he’ll just leave. He knows the others are looking for him, mostly because he’s gotten a few texts now asking where he’s at but he can’t bring it in himself to care. When you opened the bathroom door into the dark room, he looked like a deer caught in headlights, rushing to his feet, “Are you sure everything is fine?”

“Yeah, yes,” you nodded stiffly, “If you want to go out there with everyone else that’s fine. I won’t be upset or anything.”

“Well, I was kind of wondering if you wanted to come back to mine?”

The first thing you noticed the following morning aside from the sun shining down on your face was the heavy arm across your waist. It made your eyes flutter awake with a small huff leaving your lips as you attempted to stretch your limbs but it tightened around you, securing you closer to Jungkook’s naked chest.

“Morning,” he mumbled sleepily into your hair as he hugged you closer.

“What time is it?” You asked awkwardly, trying to sit up making his arm slide to your hips instead. You reached for your cell phone, eyes widening by the number of text messages.

miyoung: bye I was drunkkkkkk 😳

miyoung: did I 🤮 at all?

miyoung: r u alive

miyoung: helloooooooo

A quiet sigh escaped your lips as you read it over. Either she couldn’t remember how upset she was in the car or she’s going to pretend like nothing at all happened.

God, what did you do?

“Y/n,” Jungkook grumbled tiredly, “Lay back down.”

“I should go,” You bit your lip nervously. If Miyoung forgot what happened last night then maybe she forgot about Jungkook asking you and won’t know you… slept with him. Fuck, were you a bad friend?

He dated your best friend and dumped her out of the blue making it obvious he wanted nothing to do with her and here you are letting him fuck you in the bathroom. What did that make you? You had a poor lapse of judgment last night, you acted out of character and hadn’t been behaving like yourself at all.

“Why?” He sat up suddenly, “You don’t work today, right? Why don’t we go grab breakfast—well, brunch.”

You looked down at him, unable to stop yourself from taking in his appearance. He had bed hair, no shirt on and his blanket draped over his waist. He failed to take off his jewelry last night so he still wears silver chain necklaces around his neck and leather bracelets. You couldn’t possibly spend time with him still. It wasn’t right, right?

Just as you were ready to give him your answer, your phone began to vibrate with an incoming call. You looked down at the screen and a picture of you and Miyoung displayed on the screen that had Jungkook huffing quietly and laying back down, close to giving up.

In all honesty, you weren’t in the mood to talk to her. It still bothered you by how harsh she was last night but there’s a chance she doesn’t even remember and… “Hello?”

“Tell me why I have a raging headache when I barely drank last night?” Miyoung said immediately once the call went through, “It’s your fault y’know for upsetting me.”

You couldn’t see her but she was walking on a treadmill in her apartment acting like everything was completely normal. Jungkook didn’t care for your conversation either but he was focused on the way you looked first thing in the morning.

You looked cute, undeniably cute with circles under your eyes and a disheveled appearance. You wore an oversized shirt of his so you wouldn’t have to sleep in such uncomfortable clothes and he loved it. You looked good in his clothes.

Without thinking, he sat up and pressed his lips to yours in a short and surprising kiss. You flinched back with confusion, nearly dropping your phone in the process but he backed away with a small smile. You tried to glare at him but you couldn’t stop from smiling and it annoyed you when he placed a gentle kiss against your neck that made you feel flustered. You almost forgot you were on the phone when he leaned in for a kiss again and one you would surely grant.

“But I forgive you,” Miyoung said suddenly.

“What?”

“I forgive you, I’m over it,” Miyoung said with a shrug you couldn’t see, “Our friendship means more to me than Jungkook and I know you would never do anything that you know would upset me so… it’s whatever. In the past.”

“Wait,” You held up a hand to Jungkook as you said it to the both of them, “When did I apologize?”

He stopped immediately, looking at you with concern as Miyoung went on, “I mean, we both know you were going to. I’m just letting you know it’s alright.”

“No, Miyoung, I wasn’t going to,” you couldn’t help but scoff, “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

Technically.

Jungkook raised his brows, surprised by your tone and a little turned on? Was that okay to say?

“I didn’t mean it like that, but you know… you were flirting with the guy who dumped me,” Miyoung said, “It’s fine, whatever, you want to flirt with Jungkook, I don’t care anymore I just thought I meant more to you as a friend.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment as you looked down at Jungkook who couldn’t seem to go more than a minute without attention. He had your free hand in his measuring your size difference and you released a sigh, “You know what, I’m kind of busy right now so I’ll call you later.”

Miyoung wasn’t able to get a word in before you ended the call, turning your attention to Jungkook, “You’re getting me in trouble, sir.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” he said, biting back a grin, “How should I make it up to you? Brunch?”

“You’re still thinking about that?” You asked with a slight laugh.

It was strange trying not to let your best friend’s feelings bring you down too.

“I’m hungry,” Jungkook said, hand on his toned stomach for detail.

“I don’t have clothes or, I don’t know, a toothbrush,” you couldn’t help but sound sarcastic, falling back on the bed with an arm on his chest.

“Don’t worry, I got you.”

In the end you caved to his incessant begging and found yourself dressed as casual as ever with an oversized tee and the skirt you wore last night clashing horribly. The only thing that had you regretting it was what stood [parked] in front of you.

“You’re not serious, are you?” You asked as you watched him walk up to you with a helmet in his hands, “I can’t get on that.”

“You can,” Jungkook said, putting it over your head, “I’m a very safe driver.”

“What about your car?” You asked nervously as he buckled[?] you into the head gear, “Can’t we just go in that.”

“We can but that won’t impress you,” Jungkook snorted a laugh as he got his own helmet on, “Come on Y/n, I won’t kill you, don’t worry.”

With a small sigh you nodded, letting him lead you to the bike and he swung a leg over to straddle it and patted the seat right behind him. Frankly, you didn’t care that you were in a skirt. You know that there’s an appropriate way for people in skirts to straddle something but you cared more about living so you straddled it the way he did. Jungkook couldn’t help but smile as he felt the softer touch of your hands on his waist and without saying a word, he pulled you into him suddenly. Your chest was pressed to his back and your arms snug around his waist.

“Atta girl, no time to be shy now,” he chuckled, feeling you smack his arm playfully.

If he were being honest, he liked this side of you. He’s never seen it before and it was breathtaking and enjoyable. Before when you were just classmates you were still stand offish from him and the only night he got you to open up was the first time he ran into you and met Miyoung. It was short lived and once he dated her, he rarely got to see you alone.

When he got back, you would barely even look at him yet whatever spurred last night’s events seemed to open up new possibilities for you two. You haven’t talked about what happened but he’s expecting it almost excitedly.

Jungkook’s hand ran up your thighs, securing you to him as he started up the motorcycle, feeling the smoothness of your leg and teasing the end of your skirt with a small tug, “Ready?”

He felt you squeeze harder before taking off.

The cafe was small and filled with warmth making this feel oddly close to a date… which is probably because it was? You’re still not sure how to take it.

“Did I really get you in trouble?” Jungkook asked as he cut his breakfast sandwich in half before doing the same with yours. When you looked at him he looked concerned by the notion. You didn’t have to ask to know what he was referring to and you couldn’t help but sigh, “Not really, sorry, it was more my fault than any—“

“Why though?” Jungkook cut you off, “Why is it always your fault? You can’t talk to me now?”

“You know we didn’t just talk,” you bit your lip nervously. You couldn’t meet his gaze and he didn’t like that.

He huffed in annoyance, “But she doesn’t know, or does she? I mean, what does it matter?”

“You dated. She’s my best friend and it bothers her, I already feel guilty for what happened last night—not that I regret it, don’t get me wrong but… well, it’s just confusing and it upsets her,” You rambled, still defending Miyoung even when she was slowly getting under your skin.

“We dated so long ago, it was such a short fling,” Jungkook said with a laugh as he went back to eating, “And she dumped me so why does it matter if you and I get together?”

“I don’t know, I just… she’s my best frie—wait, what did you say?” You met his stare suddenly making him set down his coffee cup to answer.

“She dumped me so why can’t you and I…” he stopped. Did you mean for him to repeat the part about being with you? Did you want him to say it again, maybe use the right words this time?

Why is he saying Miyoung dumped him? You remember the day exactly.

Miyoung called you while you were studying in the library late one night, not fully in tears but clearly under duress and she couldn’t stop herself from letting her emotions get to her. She went on to tell you how Jungkook dumped her suddenly over a phone call because he wasn’t interested anymore and was just using her or something.

You remember because you left the library to go comfort her and you almost ran into him on campus and he wouldn’t even look you in the eye…

He dumped her because he got bored, that’s why she asked you to stop talking to him. He was just like every other guy according to her and you owed her the promise to avoid him. It was you who introduced them anyway and…

Why is it that any guy you’ve ever thought you’ve liked would fall for her instead, only to dump her and in return make her ask you to not speak to them again?

Jungkook wasn’t the first so when she asked you to avoid him, it bothered you a little but you soon got over it and did as told.

You always do as told without questioning it.

“You broke up with her.”

He chuckled, shaking his head no, “I was going to but she beat me to it. I don’t know how honest you want me to be this early in the day.”

“Tell me,” you urged him on.

“I wanted to break up with her but I had this sick feeling that I wasn’t going to be able to talk to you as much anymore or it would be awkward so I stuck it out,” Jungkook said it with a shrug, “But then she dumped me and suddenly you won’t even look at me so it was worse for me, I guess.”

Your eyebrows stitched together with confusion, “What are you saying? Why did you care if I talked to you or not? You went for Miyoung the second you met her—“

“That’s not true, actually,” Jungkook confessed, deciding if you wanted honesty he would give it even if it embarrassed him, “I wanted you.”

“And when I met her, I was obviously there at the bar trying to talk to you but she kept butting in and next thing I know, you were off talking to Yoongi and ignoring me,” Jungkook went on, “To be honest, I was kind of insecure back then, like really insecure and I was trying to get you to notice me but everytime someone would cu—“

“Jungkook, stop, I just… no, you did not like me, you dated Miyoung,” You cut him off, fidgeting in your seat anxiously, “It’s fine, it’s in the past.”

“No it’s not fine and I asked how honest you wanted me to be and you told me to tell you so I’m going to,” Jungkook said more seriously, “I was insecure, alright? I had just moved to the city and I shared class with this pretty, incredibly smart girl who would barely give me any time of day. Honestly it was kind of depressing, I was kinda depressed at the time and I needed a boost to talk to you so I asked Miyoung and… she said you were into someone else so I was pretty bummed out. Then she’s kind of just everywhere and she actually tries to talk to me so when she asks me out, I say yes but I realize I still have to see you.”

“And I liked being around you even though I probably shouldn’t have because technically I was dating her at this point and I realized that I practically screwed up whatever chance I might have had with you,” Jungkook couldn’t stop himself anymore. He was saying whatever was on his mind, barely giving you time to process any of it before continuing, “Yes, I know it’s fucked up because whenever I thought it might work and I might catch real feelings for her, you would came around and they just went out the window. So it was getting harder and harder to keep pretending and I wanted to break up with her but I was worried you wouldn’t talk to me anymore.”

“She beat me to it and dumped me because she was bored and I was relieved, honestly, but then I see you on campus and you can’t even look at me anymore,” Jungkook cleared his throat, “Then life went on, I moved away, moved back, ran into you again and…”

“And what?” You asked breathlessly, lips dry and completely frozen in your seat.

He looked at you warmly, “I found you, everything just came back and I knew I didn’t want to lose you a second time. I wanted to ask you out the first night at the bar but you didn’t even want to talk to me so I tried again last night and you were so ready to blow me off when Miyoung came along. I don’t know what made you come back to the party and I don’t want you thinking I’m some sleazy guy who acts like that with just anyone. I was just… it was unexpected and I had been waiting years for something to happen between us.”

Suddenly, this didn’t feel like an easy brunch inside a warm and cozy cafe anymore. In all honesty, it felt a little suffocating now and you don’t know how to explain it, but you didn’t want to be here. So much has just been thrown at you and you don’t think you can handle it all.

What did he mean that he liked you first?

Why had Miyoung told him you were into someone else? You learned to stop sharing who you liked with her so long ago and had never once told her anything like that in school. Why couldn’t she just have asked you? Why did she ask him out after he made it known he wanted you?

You don’t care that he said yes, that really was in the past for you. Now you’re more focused on why someone who was supposed to be your best friend would act so sneaky? What did she gain from it?

Why did she lie and say he dumped her? Was it just so she can paint him as a villain and make you not want to talk to him anymore? Why would she do that?

“Y/n?” He called your name waiting for you to respond to him but you just sat there stunned, “I’m sorry, I know I was a piece of shit for dating her when I wanted you bu—Y/n.”

Your mind is filled with questions that you couldn’t answer and it was overwhelming. The cafe felt suddenly overwhelming and you just had to get out of there, so you did.

“Earth to Y/n, I don’t know how long you plan on ignoring the world but I know you’re not too busy with work to ignore your friends.”

Tacky, Taehyung was so very tacky leaving a concerning voicemail. Who left voicemails these days?

And he was being dramatic, he’s acting like you’ve fallen off the face of the Earth but that’s not true. You’ve just been holed up at either the office or your home for the past week, avoiding any call or text from anyone so you could be alone with your thoughts.

Alright it’s been over a week, almost two and maybe it is a little concerning but you’re telling yourself you’re just being dramatic.

“Y/n you better open the door before I break it down,” Taehyung’s muffled voice boomed from the other side of your front door and you begrudgingly went to let him in.

“Relax, I’m not dead,” You muttered under your breath as you let him in.

“Damn near!” Taehyung said loudly as he let himself through the door, “What is up with you? You haven’t responded to any text I was beginning to get worried.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled as you flopped down onto your couch, “I’ve just been tired.”

“Too tired to answer the phone?” Taehyung asked sitting down next to you, “Miyoung, I get. Ignore her all you want but me? What did I ever do to you? What’s up with you? I haven’t talked to you since the party. Did something happen?”

With a small sigh, you let your head rest against the back of the couch, “I slept with Jungkook.”

“Really?” Taehyung seemed genuinely surprised, “So fallout with Miyoung I’m assuming? Look, I personally don’t get why you try to make her happy but she’ll get over it. Did you like it? Like him?”

“Yes, I don’t know, I’m confused, I don’t know what to believe anymore,” you admitted, “And I feel so dumb because this shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“Alright well I need you to rewind and explain things better so my pea brain can handle it,” Taehyung made himself comfortable, “You’ve gone Ghost for over a week, I want to know why. Was it because of Jungkook? Miyoung? If you think sleeping with him makes you a bad friend the—“

“She’s a liar,” you cut in, “And it shouldn’t bother me so much because she’s my best friend but that’s why it bothers me, Tae. I’ve known her for so long, and I’ve always tried to be a good friend to her but it was never enough. So I tried harder and harder because who else would be there for me like her but… now that I’m looking back on it, I don’t think she’s ever cared about me as much as I care about her and it sucks, honestly.”

Taehyung wanted to tell you so many people cared about you but he wanted you to say whatever you needed to say first.

“You know what Jungkook said? He said Miyoung knew he apparently liked me before and still asked him out—and lied about how I felt about him,” You said, “And okay, why would I fight over a guy with my best friend but now that I’m thinking about it… it’s fucked up right? She lied that he dumped her and begged me to avoid him. You saw how she acted the other night just because he talked to me. What was that about?”

You weren’t going to go into full detail about the past because you owed Jungkook enough to not tell Taehyung about everything he said but he needed context.

“And I know it’s in the past so I should just move on but I can’t,” You admitted, “I still like him but if I… I get with him Miyoung would never let me forget that she dated him first, even if he liked me. It’s just all so confusing and overwhelming and it sucks that I’m letting it get to me like this but… it’s not fair.”

Once again, Taehyung didn’t say anything but he could tell you were feeling emotional by the way your voice began to shake.

“I like him, and not in the way I liked him before but I like this new him too, and it’s not fair that even if she lied or even if she snaps at me about shit that doesn’t matter, I will still feel guilty,” You finished.

“Y/n,” Taehyung cleared his throat, “Obviously I don’t know everything that happened back then but… I think that if you feel for him what he feels for you, it shouldn’t matter what she says. And honestly, I just… I wish you could see that there are so many people who care about you so much and you don’t have to put up with being belittled by someone who is supposed to be your best friend just because you have history. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the past, if it’s upsetting you now then clearly it still matters so don’t try to downplay your emotions.”

“But she’s my best friend,” your lip quivered.

“Then what am I?” He forced his lip to quiver as well.

“You’re my best friend too,” you sniffled.

Taehyung mimicked your expression, “Then as your best friend, I’m telling you to stop trying to make excuses for people who don’t treat you right—and go fix it with this guy.”

“Bu—“

“Y/n, I know you,” Taehyung sighed, “And I know that you’re not going to do anything if you think it upsets her but she doesn’t deserve a friend like you. You deserve to go be with whoever you want. I don’t care about what she says and at this point neither should you. I know that right now it’s confusing and you’re overwhelmed but if you’ve been ignoring me you’ve been ignoring him—I hope because if it’s just me that’s cold—and if the girl I had feelings for ghosted me… I’d be hurt.”

Jungkook was not hurt. He was… y'know, perfectly fine and that’s what he kept telling himself. It’s not like you made any real sign of feeling something for him too after hooking up and maybe that had just been a casual, one time thing. He can handle that, he’s grown.

Sure, he sort of spilled his damn heart out to you just for you to storm off on him and not reach out to him in days but he’s not bothered by it at all. That’s why when his two closest friends called Saturday night asking him to go clubbing… he said yes.

It was a chance to possibly let it go, forget it even, but it wasn’t easy. He was aware that he was possibly reading too into what happened the other night but could you blame him? You’re suddenly all about him and spend the night at his place where you wake up in his arms before going out to eat. It was like the perfect set up for a what if yet it went all wrong. Clearly it was his fault for being hopeful.

“So who else did you say is meeting us here?” Jungkook asked Hoseok for confirmation as he passed him a drink. The music played loudly in his eardrums that it was borderline painful and he wanted to leave more than anything but there was that stupid what if in his head.

“Jimin’s joining later on and so is Namjoon and his girl,” Hoseok said as he made sure everyone else had what they ordered, “Oh, and Y/n too, I think.”

“Y/n?” Jungkook tried clarifying. Hoseok smiled, “I know, it’s weird, Y/n seriously rarely comes out but all of a sudden she’s starting to more. I mean, lately she has, probably since around the time you got back?”

Jungkook let his friend go off to do whatever he wanted while he stood there seemingly frozen. Tonight would be the first time in days that he sees you—talks to you—and he’s not sure how to handle it. There’s nothing he can do about it either because he hasn’t confided in anyone yet but it’s painfully obvious that he’s waiting for you.

Yoongi noticed first, like he usually did, and tried talking to him, “What’s up with you? You’ve been antsy since the party, will you finally tell me where you ran off to?”

“Yeah man, don’t think we didn’t notice when you disappeared,” Jin said with a slight wink, “We just want to know with who.”

“Y/n.”

He could see you from the corner of his eye when you joined them at a table they had found. You came with Jimin by your side and a shy smile on your face. He assumed it was Hoseok who had screamed your name considering how he hogged your attention with a huge grin and Jungkook felt nervous all of a sudden.

As embarrassing as it was, Jungkook had nearly forgotten what he was asked until he looked back at Yoongi and Jin who looked at him expectantly. A nervous laugh escaped his lips as he shrugged, “Did you guys miss me too much?”

“Sneaky guy, don’t change the subject,” Jin laughed before letting Jungkook shift his attention back to you, making it painfully obvious where he was focused.

You felt a little nervous to be out tonight but after what you had talked about with Taehyung, you knew he was right. You acted strange with Jungkook after he opened up his side of things to you and it was plain wrong. Part of you isn’t even sure if he’s actually interested or not since he didn’t reach out to you this week and it made you wonder if he was really upset.

And if he was, would that mean that he didn’t want to speak to you?

“I need a drink,” you mumbled to yourself more than to the others but it made a good excuse to at least try. You looked at Jungkook for the first time since you got there and cleared your throat to awkwardly ask, “Jungkook, do you mind going with me?”

“Get me another, will ya?” Yoongi asked with a sudden wink that made Jungkook do a double take. Was he winking over the drink or him leaving with you?

He nodded his head in response and without question followed you to the bar once more. The bar was packed from all sides and Jungkook had to fight his way to the counter working as a barrier from people pushing at you. If he were to be honest, he wanted to skip the questions and get close to you again but he had to stay strong. He needed answers, right?

“Are we good?” Was the only thing he could think to ask.

You looked at him warmly, sitting down on the stool at the counter with him standing close to you, his hand itching to reach for you. Your lip caught between your teeth as you nodded, “Are we?”

For some reason he didn’t expect to be asked that back. It made him wonder if he thought you were. It was undeniably embarrassing to have you walk out on him like that after he thought it had been going good but did that mean he was truly upset with you?

“Yeah,” he nodded stiffly, blinking nervously and looking to the bartender who noticed them a while ago but had to attend to earlier customers first, “But uh, I guess I am just a little confused by it all. Did I do something to upset you? Was it what I said?”

“No, no, I’m sorry, it wasn’t you,” You blurted out, “It was me, I wasn’t thinking straight and I feel really bad about leaving like that.”

“Then why didn’t you just call or even text me?” Jungkook asked honestly, “I… I think that’s what bothered me the most.”

You looked down at your hands, “I'm sorry. I didn’t talk to anyone, seriously, and I did think about reaching out to you but I don’t know, I’m really bad at explaining things.”

“Well can you try? I know it was sudden but I thought it had been going good,” Jungkook said and the longer he tried getting to the bottom of this, the more annoyed he felt that you couldn’t just say it, “I think I’ve made it clear now how I feel about you and all I’m asking is for you to do the same.”

“I—yes,” you stumbled over your words, “I mean, I’m trying to be clear now but I’m doing a shit job at it. I did have a good time with you but it was honestly, really out of character for me to yknow… and then the whole Miyoung thing and I’m sorry but it was just a lot all at once. It’s definitely not fair to you that I acted that way, but I do have feelings for you.”

He let out a sigh, feeling unsure how to take it and stuck between wanting to smile in relief and wanting to be upset. You didn’t text him, nothing. How is that fair? He wanted to reach out to you but after the way you left he thought he would just make it worse if he kept bothering you. The bartender finally got to you two and he let you speak first as he tried gathering his thoughts a little more.

“But what does this mean?” Jungkook asked now, “I want you and you want me, right? So, what does this mean Y/n because right now I’m still confused by it all. If it’s because of Miyoung then—“

“No, it’s not, honestly,” You said, reaching for him, pinching the bottom of his shirt between your fingers to pull him toward you, “I don't care what she thinks anymore, I like you and I should have just said that from the beginning.”

The pull was harsh and had him looking down with his lips slightly parted in surprise, “Y/n, you’re not being fair.”

You knew it. You knew you probably ruined your chance now and coming to see him had just been a waste. You nearly let go of him when he continued, “You can’t ignore me and walk out on me and then just tell me you want me too, expecting everything to be fine.”

He had to be tough. He can’t just let it go even though you’re saying everything he wants to hear.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” you said with a slight frown, “I can leave if you want me to.”

“Ugh,” he groaned, unable to help himself anymore as he closed the distance between you two. He circled an arm around you and pulled you into a hug, “Why would I want you to leave when I’ve been waiting for you to get here?”

“What?” You asked, hands finding his waist as he held you, “I thought you were mad.”

“I was,” Jungkook said, “So you don’t know how annoyed I am with myself right now. All it takes is for you to sweet talk me a bit and give me those eyes of yours for me to fold, that’s embarrassing.”

“Jungkook,” you said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have walked out like that. I should have texted you and if you want to be mad, I get it. If you want to think it over an—“

“And what if I don’t?” He asked looking down at your pouty lips and glossy eyes, “What if I just want to let it go and be with you without any more problems? Can I do that?”

His tone was surprisingly firm and you couldn’t do anything but nod, “Okay.”

It didn’t change the fact that you still felt bad because it seemed like you were being let off the hook easily but what else could you do? Jungkook really did seem ready to move past it and that’s why you came here in the first place. You just hadn’t expected it to be so easy and it made you feel bad.

When your drinks were ready, you opened up a tab despite his protests to just put it on his and the two of you got back to the group like nothing had happened. There was still a lot that needed to be talked about before you told anyone about what happened but it’s not like they were all oblivious.

Jimin, for instance, had been keeping an eye on you two at the bar since you left and had seen the majority of your conversation but he didn’t bring it up. Instead he watched silently for your little glances in each other’s direction and shy smiles. It was obvious to Yoongi too that Jungkook was in a much better mood now than earlier and it wasn’t hard for him to figure out why.

Perhaps for the same reason you had suddenly started joining them more often, being more comfortable too.

It had been a slow start for the two of you after the night at the club. Neither one of you seemed to want to rush into things but at times there was a strong pull. Tonight was going to be your first official date but you were keeping that information to your friends until you figure out if this works or not.

Jungkook picked you up from your apartment and drove to a nice restaurant where the two of you sat for dinner. He was very attentive to you, making sure your glass was always full and all your needs met and it was a surprisingly good feeling to be taken care of this way. You’ve dated in the past but you can’t say you’ve always chosen the right ones. You had a tendency to lean toward the ones who were overly forward with you because in your mind there was no doubt they liked you.

At first it would be nice but then you would realize that it was more of a conquering feeling to them than actually wanting to be with you and you would be left heartbroken. That’s part of why you rarely put yourself out there.

Jungkook is different though, he always has been. When you first met him he was forward but aloof. You never expected him to actually like you because you couldn’t see the signs clearly and the way things turned out it just never worked. Now that he’s been back he’s almost like an entirely different person in the sense that he’s ready to go for what he wants and it’s sort of admirable.

If you had been able to do that back then maybe you would have had him sooner but there was no point in dwelling in the past. He was here now and so were you. Honestly, knowing that there's something that’s been brewing between you two for a long time made it easier to feel confident around him.

“Why are you so pretty?” Jungkook couldn’t help but ask even if his mouth was full. He was trying not to smile too as he said that.

“Oh my god,” You felt your face heat up, tempted to hide behind your hand. It took you a moment to think of a response and it was surprising for the both of you to hear you say, “Why are you?”

Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly in hopes of not seeming too affected by your words. It didn’t work and he broke out into a grin, “I wasn’t expecting that.”

Dinner was filled with small flirting here and there. It’s crazy how well you and him seemed to get along when you stopped worry about other things. He made you smile, really smile and you made him feel giddy whenever he talked to you. He wanted to spend his night with you and nobody else.

“Are we going to meet with everyone else after this?” You asked as he pulled your chair out for you and you got up from the table. After some back and forth arguing, he eventually took care of the bill despite your protests and the night felt near its finish much to your disappointment.

It was the weekend and you’ve been trying to go out with your friends more and they had asked to meet up later—but both you and Jungkook had to tell them maybe.

“Do we have to?” He asked, taking your bag in one hand and holding yours with the other, “You think they’ll get a little suspicious if we’re both gone?”

You walked with him across the restaurant toward the entrance. You weren’t paying much attention to the people you passed, “I’m sure they know.”

Your response surprised him a bit and he couldn’t help but ask, “Really? Has it been that obvious?”

“Yeah, Jimin called me out on it the other night,” you shrugged, reaching for your bag to look for chapstick while he led you to the front. You couldn’t meet his eyes because you sensed where this was going.

“What’d he say?” Jungkook asked slowing his pace for you.

You blinked nervously, distracting yourself with your lipbalm as you tried sounding casual, “He asked why we were being so sneaky at the bar.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened slightly, opening the door for you as he said, “Damn, what did you say?”

“I said because we’re together.”

You tried being slick about it and slide past him without much attention but it was useless. He stood in front of you with a smile on his face, “Oh, we are? I don’t remember you clarifying that. Can you remind me when you asked me to be your man?”

“Oh god, don’t act like that,” you whined shyly.

“I’m sorry baby, I gotta hear you say it with your own words. What’d you tell him?” Jungkook blocked your path, hands finding your waist and keeping you from running. He liked making you flustered and you had no idea how you left him with a racing heart.

You pouted, looking at him seriously, “Jungkook.”

The two of you stood outside the restaurant looking like a playful couple that maybe had one too many drinks but it was all Jungkook’s fault. He wouldn’t let it go to rest and even had the nerve to smirk as he teasingly said, “That’s not how you say ‘Boyfriend’.”

“You’re ridiculous, we talked about this,” you said, focused on his chest to hide your embarrassment.

Jungkook just grinned mischievously, “What did you tell him?”

“I said you were my boyfriend,” you mumbled into his chest.

“Your what?” He asked trying to step back and get a good look at your face, “Come on baby, don’t get shy on me now.”

You whined, “Jung—“

“Your what?” He was laughing now, not caring for whoever might pass them and stare because he felt good. Too good to be affected by a stranger’s judgement.

“My boyfriend,” you sighed with embarrassment, “You heard me the first time, goof.”

“That’s what I thought, alright, you ready to go?” He asked with a chuckled as he took your hand in his ready to walk with you to the car.

“Y/n?”

You both stopped in your step, wondering if it really was your name you had heard. You looked back toward the rest, eyes threatening to widen with surprise as you looked at the person who stood at the entrance. She was with a group of people all headed inside but when she saw you, she stopped.

“Miyoung, hey,” You cleared your throat awkwardly, your demeanor changing completely.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” She asked as her eyes trailed behind you where Jungkook was looking at you with worry and confusion. He wanted to make sure everything would be alright, knowing how Miyoung would react. He didn’t want your good night to be ruined over something petty.

“What do you mean? I’m uh, I was just having dinner,” you said stiffly, looking back at Jungkook which proved to be a mistake because it seemed to solidify his presence to her.

“With jungkook?” She asked with a snappy tone. Miyoung shooed away her friends, telling them to go in without her as she approached you.

“Yeah.”

“Why?” Her brow arched with amusement, clearly ticked off and in disbelief by what she saw before her. Like usual, the situation seemed much worse than it really was.

It was time for you to be up front. What’s the point in putting yourself out there and letting yourself open up to him if you wouldn’t have the courage to make it known? You swallowed dryly, “Because we’re… dating.”

Jungkook had stepped back from the situation, not wanting to worsen it so he stood off by a light post not too far for a smoke break. He tried distracting himself with lighting his cigarette but he couldn’t help but freeze up when you said that. It brought a shy smile to his face as he waited for you to finish.

“No, you’re not,” Miyoung scoffed looking back at Jungkook as if betrayed by him too. You blinked with confusion, what did she mean you’re not? Did she expect you to be joking or back down? “We are.”

Miyoung stood in front of you now, slightly taller, “Y/n, you’ve been ignoring me for weeks and now you’re saying you’re dating my ex boyfriend? What kind of friend are you?”

This time it was you who scoffed lightly, looking away from her to try and process what you would say but you had spent too much time already trying to think it over, “The thing is, um, I’ve been kind of wondering the same about you.”

“Me?” She looked down at you genuinely taken back, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat and tried to gather the courage to just say it. You could feel Jungkook around, listening but giving you space and it was like a push start for you to say what was really on your mind, “I’m just tired of feeling like I’m the only one who puts effort into being friends and I don’t see the point in always fighting. We’re not together, we don’t have to be friends if it always has to be some sort of argument. It’s getting tiring at this point and I think maybe it’s best we just distance ourselves from each other.”

“You’re kidding, right? I’m like the only person who really cares about you, Y/n. Don’t act stupid.”

Although that made Jungkook want to intervene and tell her how very wrong she was, he didn’t. He didn’t want to speak for you. He knew you could speak for yourself and he should let you, even if he was itching to cut in.

“No, I don’t think you are. I know you think you are so you always tell me you are, but you’re not. People like me for me and not just because I’m friends with you,” you said coldly and your tone was definitive it left her speechless. It had to be one of the first times you were ever remotely close to snappy with her and she didn’t expect it.

“I know it’s hard for you to think of me as my own person but I don’t have to do what you want,” You said, “And I think you only boss me around and act sneaky behind my back because you’re threatened by me.”

She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. What you said left her rendered quiet. You waited too, waited to see if she would tell you to stand down but she didn’t and you didn’t give her time too, “ But I think I should go, I don’t want to bother your dinner any longer—and uh, maybe we just shouldn’t contact each other anymore.”

Jungkook had forgotten about his smoke break, jaw nearly to the floor at how confident you sounded. It was obvious you had never spoken to Miyoung that way but she couldn’t even deny what you said. You did it so casually and like you couldn’t care less which made you seem mature compared to Miyoung’s tantrums.

“Why was that kind of hot?” Jungkook asked as you finally reached him under the light post. Miyoung had stormed off with an evil glare that he ignored telling you how “You’re done”.

He looked down at you with hazed eyes, amazed and enamored. You scrunch your face curiously, “What was?”

“You, right now,” He chuckled, reaching for your hand in his, “Kind of scary too. Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“You’re exaggerating,” you tried to laugh it off, “I wasn’t mean, was I?”

It was so dumb of you to still be worried about it but you couldn’t help it.

“No, you were calm and casual but that was so scary,” Jungkook gasped dramatically, “Because I know you were mad at her—… it was mean but only a little and so very very hot, and you’re doing all this in that dress…”

Without meaning to be, Jungkook was sort of like your hype man. You were worried about being too harsh, you still are, but he made you feel better about it. Part of you will never not feel in the wrong for being with Jungkook but you’ve gotten the rest off your chest and it felt good. Maybe you were a bit mean or maybe you weren’t, you could never be entirely sure but Jungkook seemed to be on your side no matter what.

“You like my dress?” You asked him with a teasing smile as he held the car door open for you.

“I really do,” he played with his lip ring, looking down at you.

“Then take it off me.”

“Oh fuck,” Jungkook whispered to himself as he looked around the parking lot, “Here?”

You broke out into a laugh as you sat down. Your words got to him easier than you thought and he sighed, “You can’t say that shit to me, Y/n. I’ll actually do it.”

“Let’s go back to my place and see if you can keep your word then,” you told him, watching him close the door with a tense jaw just thinking about it.

You can’t do this to him. You can’t be shy and cute one second and then act like that. You can’t. That’s not fair to him. How is he supposed to not be affected when you say things that get his heart racing while looking so cute? Was this what it would be like dating you? Just constantly caught by surprise?

He did like the way you stood up for yourself. He liked that you spoke your mind more freely than before and he takes joy in hearing you flirt back. In the beginning it felt like he was the one always trying to get you to talk to him or notice him and now you’re saying things that make his head dizzy.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, yknow?” Jungkook asked after the painfully long car ride back to your apartment. He was removing his coat as you sat on the edge of your bed to undo your shoes.

You let out an amused laugh, “What do you mean?”

“I mean… you act all shy and innocent and then you say shit that…” Jungkook let out a groan, “I can’t explain it, you just drive me crazy.”

“In a good way or bad way?” You asked, following him with your eyes as he closed the space between you two until he was at the end of the bed standing in front of you.

“A good way,” he said softly, “I’m finding more sides of you I’ve never seen.”

“And you like it?” You asked shyly, feeling his hands curl around your jaw.

“I do, a lot,” he confessed brushing his lips against yours, “I don't know what I would’ve done if I lost my chance with you again.”

::.

NO PART TWO

oml yall this took me forever to come up with 😭 I went through at least six other ideas before deciding on this one and I can’t tell how happy I am with it yet but I tried my hardest not the disappoint 🥹 I miss being more active and taking to you all but life has been so busy lately

please let me know how you feel and I promise I’ll try to be more active 🫶🏽

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @skzthinker @unnatae @beautywine @lilliankoo @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @whoa-jo @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @dream-cvtcher @jksjx @kissyfacekoo @joyjunk @caro134340lina @hyunjinswifeee @oldermenluverrr @caro134340lina @olivialeesstuff [taglist is too long so I’ll have to make two versions of it]

6K notes · View notes

97kuu · 1 month ago

Text

PRESSED IN THE STEAM

summary: There is only so much he can handle visually of your wet, hot and exposed body in an a private onsen before his member starts craving more than simple touches and thrusts between your thighs.

Au; boyfriend jungkook!

Paring; jungkook x reader!

wc: under 3k

Warnings; Smut, tattoed jeon, pierced jeon, above average jeon, very very Needy!jungkook, Desperation,, f grOaping, br3st play, slight nippl3 play, h0rny jungkook, humping, self-play (m), vocal jungkook, thighs, dub-con, teasing, jungkook focused, PWP. It gets intense on his side.

Semi edited

With his back facing the warm shower head water he reached down to grab the bottle of unsented soap you brought to the hotel. He squirted about 2 ounces of said liquid in hand before setting the bottle back on the mini-sitting stool.

Shuddering as his colder temp hands rubbed the soap onto your neck and back, you heard him chuckle at your slight cuteness. “Cold, cold, cold. Please share the warmth of the water soon” you plead, bare body beginning to need the warmth of warm water.

“You did choose to wash me first, not my fault that the thought wasn't planned well enough.” he jokingly pointed out while finishing lathing your back in soap, purposely leaving your ass alone for when he’d turn to your front.

Groaning in defeat at poor planning, you still didn't regret it knowing he enjoyed the back kisses. Which at heart was more important than the coldness you felt now. Speaking of, your nipples harden at the feeling of his cold soapy hands cupping your breast in his hands as he massages and toys somewhat at them. Ignoring the slightly naughty gesture of it, you relaxed your head to the side of your shoulder as he massaged your breast with soap.

Laying his chin on your shoulder, he pulled you close to his warm and bare chest as he watched your chest rise and fall in relaxation. Keeping note of the enjoyment of your breast getting massaged lightly in his palms, his lips went straight to your neck to plant a few kisses before pulling himself together and off you before going to rub your abdomen and thighs.

“Turn for me darling,” he requested softly, backing up a bit so you were now facing him. Smiling at him, he smiled back and brought you closer to the warm water before deciding if he should continue with the indeed risky gesture of gripping your ass or not. With the decision not to, he smacked it before exiting the shower room to the mini onsen attachment to it.

Due to privacy glass and being high up you both could enjoy the cloudly view of nature outside your windows without the need to be covered for public decency. Thankful for that, he went over to the floor sunken pool of warm water, adjusted beforehand due to testing it then ran nakedly to the shower, he was able to comfortably walk in a slightly large ground tub area with the water going up to his knees.

Submerging himself in the clear water, he took a deep in and then exhaled out in relaxation. While his eyes closed shut for a few seconds. Opening them up he tilted his head back and to the side to see your soapy body exposed slightly from this angle. Curently tongue in cheek, his mouth salivated in hunger watching your hands rub soap around your inner thighs. His eyes once soft, darkened admit observing the way the white soap drips down your thighs, causing not only his eyebrows to raise slightly but for him to bite the inside of his cheek.

“God you're hot,” he whispers under his breath, body slouching and thighs opening wider out as his full attention is on your nude body. Pulling his attention away from your body, he smirked with a quick slight head tilt to the side. Without shaking it off he allowed his mind to darken and cloud his head with rather sexual images of your body.

With the thought of his member deep in you as you were bent over the bed, legs spread and hands cuffed behind your back as he gripped onto them for added pleasure. Oh, the way you gasped trying to restrain moans back had him gripping harder as he pounded with bent knees. The sweat dripping from his chest and groans, mixed with whines and soft cries had him in a choke hold then, and fuck would he do anything to be that turned on again. With a deep chest sigh of building frustration, he looked around aimlessly trying to find some dumb ass excuse of a distraction from your body and yet, he went back watching you turn off the showerhead and walk out.

With a swift focus back on your eyes and down your body as he watched the sudden jiggle of your body, his eyes got bigger, and with a gulp watched you come closer. Faking it, as if his heart wasn't racing and his head focused on not sex, motioned next to him as he got up, walked over, and helped you down the steps. Although aroused, wasn't gonna stop him from being a gentleman.

“Thank you” you smiled, as he kissed your cheek and turned the small water jets up a notch to get a little more movement. Which not only would keep the water moving, but hide the fact he was physically starting to show his arousal. Although you were his girlfriend and didn't have to hide it, he did it just to entertain himself, and edge himself mentally. It was the thought of edging himself to the view of you now in front of him that made his gaze completely dark and noticeable. He was horny and undeniably horny if anything.

Thankful once again, never hid his love for your body so his checking your nude body or clothed body was considered a normal behavior from him. His eyes traced your neck and breast, lowering to your trimmed-down pubic hair. You once again ignored it, enjoying the warmth of the hot bath and beautiful scenery in front of you, well that was jungkook and the now foggy windows.

“Make reservations or order a pizza to the-”

“Ordering indoors” he interrupted eyes zoned out and staring around your neck area.

“Pizza? Noddles? I saw they had a Korean place around the corner” you suggested, his eyes coming up to you with the mothing of “that's it” coking from his lips. Chuckling, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes allowing the sounds of the soft splashing water to take over your mind. You were truly at ease. Meanwhile, jungkook took this as an opportunity to take his bare hand and stroke up and down from his tip to mid-shaft looking at your breast in awe.

‘I want you more than ever right now’ he thought to himself, breathing deeply as he slightly hunched over. Licking his lips, he thought back to when you first came to the hotel about 3 days ago, his lips licking your nubs and mouth pulling on them with no mercy, and your hisses of pain sounded like heaven in his ears. The way he took his tattoed hand and cupped your breasts together and licked each bud, the skin around and from each breast to the other. Fuck he loved that, he loved your breast and the way he could cup them, slide his shaft between them until he erupted and laced your body with his seed. So much so, his hand involuntarily started stroking faster, chest rising and falling faster, and yet eyes still and focused on your breasts. His breasts.

“I can't stop thinking of your breasts,” he utters softly, sound muted by the semi-loud water crashing from the jet. Bitting down, the metal from his piercings pushed against his lips and he a soft sigh with a short realization of how sensitive he was becoming to touch.

Risking it, he let the semi-tough grasp around his shaft go before coming towards you and sitting beside you. Without further thought and a huff, he picked you up a bit to sit you on his lap. Erected, between your thighs ad you sat eyes open in confusion and head turned to him. You watched as he put his hands once again back on your breast.

“I think you need a massage again, your body is tense.” he lied, laying your back on his chest before spreading your legs open wide on his and chin back on your shoulder.

“Maybe you're right, I think the mountain viewing yesterday made me tighten up a bit. Good choice” you agreed, a kiss planted upon on his cheek as he groped your breast in circles.

Squeezing and bouncing it a bit in his hands, his lips went back to kissing your neck and this time roughly wanting to make hickys and marks and just anything to hide his groans from becoming loud. Closing your thighs around his erected, aching, and sensitive cock he almost choked out a moan. Letting go of your breast to slap your thigh in frustration, his tongue brushed against the inner part of your cheek and went down to rub your thighs this time in a more provocative manner.

With eyebrows scrunched on why you aren't reacting, he figured you were simply ignoring him because there was no way you didn't catch his cock between your thighs and the multiple gestures of his arousal for you. You weren't innocent either, that he was well aware of.

“Ignore me then, ill fuck myself between your thighs” he tested in anger, you still not making a sound and eyes closed as if you were in a meditative state. Rolling his eyes, he mouthed ‘fuck it’ and grabbed your hips to grind you down and around him, his cock still between your thighs as he slowly lifted his hip into you. Every deep thrust was met with a guttural groan, his voice full of raw desperation as he struggled to hold back his ever-loving want of pushing his cock deep in your cunt and just using it right then, right there for his selfish pleasure.

“Fuck, you feel so god damn good baby,” he groans loudly, breath warm against your skin, shaky and ragged as his desire built stronger and his mind not caring about the volume of his need felt on your neck.

The warm water surrounded him, creating a sense of intimacy that seemed to heighten every touch. His cock, slick and hard, rested between your thighs, the movement of his body against your skin becoming almost too much to bear. With every small thrust, the water provided a slippery friction, making the sensation feel more intense, as though nothing but the connection between his shaft and your bare skin existed at that moment.

His breath came in shallow, desperate gasps, mixing with the soft splashes of water around them. He could only focus on your thighs pressing against him, the smoothness of your skin against his cock, driving him crazy with need. His hips moved of their own accord, each grind pushing him closer to the edge, yet still far enough away to build the tension that coursed through his body. Every time he moved, the water sloshed around them, making it impossible to keep the urgency of his desire hidden.

Her breath hitched in response, the way you softly shifted positions beneath him only turned him on more. He groaned, low and needy, the sound slipping out with every thrust as he pressed against her, lost in the heat of the water and the urge to edge his cock. His movements grew more frantic, teasing his senses as though the water, the proximity, and the raw need were driving him to the point of no return. But even as he felt himself nearing the edge, he stopped panting in your name and held the overwhelming urge to come undone like this. He didn't want to cum like this, but he couldn’t stop, couldn’t fully deny that begging feeling of wanting to release himself more.

The water might have been soothing, but everything about this moment felt like fire, burning through his veins, igniting every nerve in his body as he lost himself in your warmth.

His breath came in quick, heavy pants, his voice rough and strained as he pressed against you, each word dripping with need.

With a cheeky smile, you get up and turn around to straddle him a swift movement of your hands to his cock as you slide him in. With an angered look of frustration, he holds one on hand your back and the other on your legs and lifts you onto the edge of the bathing rub and thrusts himself in with no warning.

“I can’t- I can’t stop,” he groaned, his hips grinding harder between thighs, urging you to move with him, something anything. Your teasing manner, so he hoped was driving him over the edge.

His grip is now on your waist as he towers over you with desire. With a lick of his lower lip, he bent down and placed his lips around your swollen hard nub, licking and pulling at it with force causing faint moans to escape your lips. Properly lining himself against your hips and, his now grip on your hips tightening, forcing himself against your skin

“you’re gonna take it… take all of it until I’m fucking done.” His voice was low, laced with a mixture of frustration and raw need.

“I’m not stopping until I finish. You wanted this… now you’re gonna take every inch-” jungkook pauses, hips snapping into yours roughly hearing you moan loudly.

“Every once of me, until I'm empty” he continues saying before his hips relentlessly crash into yours in anger, almost as if it was a punishment for denying him entrance, denying him without words, causing his cock to twitch ache, and beg at your hands for your sadistic pleasure.

Thrusting, teeth clenched together as groaned in frustration, each desperate sound escaping his throat as he moved faster, unable to hold back his craving as if he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. He didn't want to, he desperately wanted to feel his cock stretch your raw cunt just for his usage. He wanted to fuck himself between your thighs, your body being used like a toy for her gratification. Deserved so after teasing him, making him desperate for this moment.

Soon enough, he pinned you beneath him, his breath coming in harsh, desperate gasps as he hovered just on the edge of release, fighting to keep control. His cock was pressed against you, teasing, barely slipping in and out with slow, deliberate movements. Every inch felt like torture, the friction barely enough to calm the burning hunger inside him.

“I’m on the edge, I need to come so fucking bad,” he gritted, his voice raw, full of frustration.

‘I can’t… I can’t hold it back much longer.’ His hips moved slowly, teasing, pushing against you but never giving you enough, his body trembling with the effort to keep from losing control.

“I’m losing control… just a little more… fuck.” His breath was erratic now, the desire coursing through him so strongly that he could barely think, only focused on the edge of release that he was desperate to reach.

His breath grew erratic, and ragged as he moved above you, hips grinding against yours with increasing urgency. Each thrust was deeper, harder as if he couldn’t get close enough, the tension building in his body with every desperate movement. His hands gripped your waist tightly, his fingers digging into your skin, trying to hold on as the pleasure overwhelmed him.

“ fuck im close” he groaned, his voice thick with frustration, “I need you, fuck you’re gonna make me cum baby”

His hips snapped harder, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the room, and all he could focus on was the heat between your legs, the way your body tightened around him, pushing him closer to the edge.

His movements grew frantic, the pressure inside him becoming unbearable, the need to release a pulsing ache he couldn’t fight anymore. He felt the wave of pleasure rising, his chest heaving with every shallow breath as his body trembled.

“Shit-” he cut himself off, his body moving in sharp, desperate thrusts. Then, with a heavy groan, he came inside you, his cock throbbing deep as he released, the force of it stealing his air to breathe. His body shuddered, unable to hold back, as he stayed buried inside, feeling every pulse of his climax wash over him. His moans, raw and low, were muffled by the sound of your pleasure, both of you consumed by the intensity of the moment.

Trembling from the hard release of pleasure, he breathed out intensely as he leaned over your fucked out state which only intensified the need he begged your body to help out with. With a shakey breath pulled out of you, his member still hard, throbing with his seed dripping down the shaft to his balls ever so slightly with the remnants of his release. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, sweat slicking his skin. With a low groan, he leaned forward, pressing his lips to your cheek with a desperate, almost frantic kiss, his breath hot against your skin.

“ still hard, still need your cunt baby. I can’t stop,” he murmured, his voice rough with exhaustion and desire, ‘I need more…’

Before you could even process it, his hips bucked again, this time pulling back just enough to thrust into you again, the force of his second release catching you both by surprise. He groaned loudly, his face contorting with intensity as he came deep inside you once more, a sharp, unexpected jolt of pleasure flooding through him. His hands gripped your sides, his body shaking as he stayed inside, the sensation almost overwhelming. Panting heavily, he pulled back slightly, looking at you with a dazed, lust-filled gaze, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “That… that was too much, but I needed you”

M.list

2K notes · View notes

taegularities · 6 months ago

Text

entertainer | jjk (m)

Summary: Growing singer Jeon Jungkook is as charismatic as he is self-absored – that is, until he meets you. Caught in a web of secrets, he finds a riddle in you he urges to solve; even ready to turn the spotlight towards you until nothing remains… but regret.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: strangers to lovers (or something); angst, bits of fluff, smut!! ➳ warnings: do not fall for this jk i repeat do not f– 🚨 he's kinda hot though; (not so) silent yearning, flirting, a shit ton of sexual tension, sexual fantasies, some jealousy from his side, he is very VERY attracted to her, mystery, oc is a big question mark, full jk pov!, difficult past(s), (mention of) sexual harassment, mentioned past death of a side character, crying, fear, manipulation, confrontation and fighting, aggression, cursing, cocky and selfish kook, overthinking, secrets and revelations, explicit sexual content: kissing, fingering, teasing, drunk shenanigans, sooo much lust, big dick jk, dom jk, oc is odd, oral (f. receiving), spit stuff, handjob, manhandling, orgasm delay, lip ring…, light choking, bit of hair pulling, a spank or two, coming on oc, some cum tasting mmmh, ass stuff, protected sex, rough sex, various positions, masturbation; as always THE ENDING!! lmk if i forgot something!! ➳ wc: 32.4k ➳ a/n: MHMMM, it's finally time!! i experimented with the trope a little; def not a professional when it comes to this genre, but i tried my best. both oc and jk are odd in this one, and you might be on either's side and hate either of them, i can't say :'D very curious tho, so come and drop a message to lmk what you think. let it aaaall out :P <3

➳ listen to the Entertainer playlist! 🖤

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST | WIPs

Jungkook has always wanted an audience to perceive him.

Not just to perceive him, in fact. To worship him.

Jungkook doesn’t consider himself a bad person. Spoiled, a little selfish, but not necessarily bad. He enjoys attention, no matter how temporary or who the giver of it. Feasts on it like an incubus.

What’s wrong with that? Nothing.

Or.

Maybe there is. Maybe he’s coming on too strong.

Because you’re not part of his audience, sitting over there, middle row, middle spot, with your eyes lowered to the notebook. And when you do look up, there’s nothing but indifference in your eyes.

It irks him. Maybe he is a little narcissistic, and maybe he can’t quite deny it after all — but as part of his future team, you should at least fake a smile, right? Display a certain amount of enthusiasm, the joy of working with aspiring artists.

But no.

You’re occupied, scribbling into your notebook. Jungkook, cognisant of the fact that he hasn’t issued much of significance today, understands that you cannot be taking notes of his words. And he also understands that… if that is true…

You’re not granting him as much fascination as he’s used to.

General admiration thrown into the same bucket as his unwavering talent — that he’s well aware of — might just be the reason he climbed up so high in no time. Sometimes, gentle livestreams and vlogs do the trick — locals have found reasons to adore him already.

At times, a good song and strong vocals aren’t necessary to woo people.

Jungkook, however, is insatiable — that’s what keeps him pondering at times. That it’s just the locals, and on an international scale, there’s still much to achieve.

But he’s not a quitter, he’s a conqueror.

And he’ll reach that mind-boggling status of a well-known, global icon, name flowing as naturally through the seam of people’s lips as a still-lying, tranquil lake.

Jungkook knows it’s cocky of him to praise himself to the skies and to rely on his resolute hopes so much. He knows life backfires sometimes, and that endeavours don’t always pay off. He only started as an insignificant city boy, too.

Survived the cruelty of elementary and middle school; shared a room with his brother, relying on him until he grew and learned to finally rule over high school; every single soul at his beck and call. Then, trudged through college before any of where he’s standing even existed.

But he’s here now. And people acknowledge it.

Except you.

And it throws him off his balance. Which is probably why he shortens the end of his speech, close to slurring distracted syllables before he realises he’s forgotten a prepared sentence or two.

No matter; the relevant and main message should have been delivered by now.

So he leans back in a chair in the back, flashing a captivating smile and waits for the applause. Somewhat proud when the praise needs a moment to cease for his manager to reclaim the mic, freeing the metaphorical stage, much in the form of a simple pult, for the CEO of the company.

Taehyung is savvy of how to regain control over a stage; Jungkook doesn’t know whether he fucked up his final remarks, but Taehyung summarises his ideas well. But the clapping does say a lot.

And between those raising their hands to appreciate Jungkook’s speech, you were, too. He knows because he looked directly at you; still is. And when your eyes drift to his, the two of you hold each other’s gazes for at least a couple seconds longer than the others.

And your smile, while present, is somewhat tight-lipped, a bit awkward but confident, too. Odd, as well; hard to explain, but as though you know what you want. As though you have your priorities set straight and cannot be swayed by anything the world might throw at you.

He doesn’t have a word for it. Poised? Self-reliant? Fearless? Can a single look even say this much or is he being delusional?

But this can’t be true, honestly. Nobody is this unperturbed or passive. He’ll find out.

Your stare aligns with his a couple more times over the next minutes, staying there before continuing the journey over the crowd. Jungkook’s eyebrows twitch just a little whenever your eyes pierce into his, so tantalising and deep, big sweet ires, but so conniving at the same time.

He doesn’t know your name, but he’s sure that it defines intrigue. And maybe, just perhaps, it might serve as the synonym for drop fucking dead gorgeous, too.

When Taehyung leads you to Jungkook’s stuffy studio, the latter hears your voice through the open door several seconds before you come in. Or actually, it’s not quite his studio.

More like a collective office that a couple of the newcomers use. Jungkook has been part of this crew a little longer, but he needs the additional success, more prosperity; he’s been told to yield more results to earn his very own four walls. Carrying his signature flavour.

But it’s okay. For now, this suffices…

The stench of coffee and the sound of the AC. The pot and plants that always rest in some corner of the room, courtesy of Taehyung who insists on some colour in the grey-white, small room. Jungkook has gotten used to it all.

Which is why it’s strange, seeing your splendour enter the small space, delighted by whatever Taehyung might be explaining. Your grin is the widest Jungkook has seen since yesterday.

He didn’t get to meet you properly yet, so he can’t say where your humour lies. Nobody introduced you, despite your new position as his very own, personal work partner. A second manager, here to guide and aid him when Taehyung can’t; and apparently, you’ve found some charm in Taehyung that you didn’t see in Jungkook during the stupid meeting.

Not that Jungkook would ever dare to doubt his friend’s appeal, but you’ve stormed into his life like a present, and so silently, too; and he wanted to be the one to open it. To reveal it.

Not Taehyung. Even if it’s his job.

Okay. Calm down. Jungkook sighs. That again.

A motherly blanket of praises and fatherly pats of pride. That’s what’s gotten his head so riled up. He was coddled too much as a child. Made felt special. That’s over now, Jeon, you’re in an industry filled to the brim with competition.

Chill chill chill.

But now?

With that alluring smile staring up at Taehyung, only hints of it left when your eyes move to Jungkook. Fuck.

But Jungkook’s stance remains steadfast and self-assured when he greets, “Hi there. Welcome at last, huh?”

Jungkook notices when your mind snaps out of the conversation with Taehyung and into the one he started; a gentle hand frees your face off your hair to enable a proper view to it. The other is still dug deep in the pocket of your leather jacket, covering parts of the white top underneath.

Semi-long, silver earrings rest right below your ear, against your neck when you tilt your head a little; your expression so respectful and inviting when you smile. Jungkook inhales you in that one split moment, details stinging into the eye without much effort.

And perhaps he’d observe more, appreciate your stunning, obvious beauty and elegance further; but time passes as it does before you finally utter your very first sentence to him, “Hi. Didn’t think I’d ever be saying this, but… thank you for having me.”

That’s sweet.

Your words are reminiscent of the adoration his fans grant him, but your expression is as cool as a refreshing autumn wind. The perfect balance, possibly.

Jungkook gestures to a small couch in the back, right next to the door, but you raise a rejecting hand, claiming, “Been sitting all day observing Taehyung. Need to walk a bit.”

And you do. Deliver a last farewell nod to Taehyung who waves a little, gripping the handle and locking you in the room with the younger man nearly drooling over you.

The hand hidden in the jacket before has emerged, arms loosely folded as you take in the interior of the studio, allowing no more insight into your thoughts than, “Nice.”

Jungkook hums in distracted agreement, standing at the wall, watching you roam around the humble space in small steps. It’s odd, being in here with you; the atmosphere fizzles, a little less like electricity, just a bit more than carbonic acid.

But the moment was to arrive anyway; you’ll be a close link to Jungkook from now on. Of course you need to familiarise yourself with his space, too. So far, you seem to have an opinion on it already.

“Easy to trigger claustrophobia, but,” you walk through the open door to the darker recording room, tapping the mic for a moment, “cosy, too. Very cool equipment.”

“Yeah. I agree.” Pause, eyes dropping to your fingers grazing the stand of the mic. Then, “I would’ve come to you today… or yesterday for that matter, but things were so chaotic and—”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you assure, waving his concerns off, “I could see people rushing around and preparing the moment I got here. I’m probably not the main concern right now among everybody.”

“Nah, that’s not it. We have a great team here.” You step out again, hands folding behind your back until you’re leaning against the wall opposite of him, mirroring his stance. “I’m sorry you arrived at such a stressful time, though.”

“Not your fault. I decided so myself fully knowing you were in the middle of something.”

Ah. So you’ve seen his interviews, read the news. You came here with sufficient knowledge about him, alright.

“Really though,” you continue, blinking slowly, “I’m just glad to be here at all.”

Ah. Yes — about that.

“What brought you to our company anyway?” Jungkook asks, coating his voice in sugar to decrease the risk of unintentional and prying rudeness. “I mean — it’s been a while since somebody joined the main team, is all.”

“Oh. What brought me here…” You slide down the wall just a few inches, staring at your feet before you meet his eyes again. Something flashes in them for a miniscule second, albeit too brief to be caught and analysed. Then, you say, “Sentiments?”

Jungkook gathers words of confusion the moment you utter yours, a question already on his tongue. Has he been here long enough to evoke sentiments in his followers? Or do you veil a whole different connection to this company than he might understand?

Who knows. It doesn’t feel too deep, at least, when you speak again, elaborating when his eyes reveal his bedazzlement before he can, “I mean, I like your work.”

Okay. So much he interpreted; and he must admit — the feeling of pride is a thoroughly unique one.

“I think you’ve been deserving of your growth, and I just,” you speak, shrugging your shoulders, digging one heel into the solid ground, “I could never stop thinking of what I’d say or do if I was here or how I’d try to help, even though I’m not a true musical genius like you.”

This is so excitingly new.

How poised you remain as you talk about your fascination for him; how carefully you choose your words. He’s met fans before, but he doesn’t think any of them has ever practised such control over themselves.

And harbouring such emotions for a tiny little celebrity like him while simultaneously treating him like a human being is an art you’ve well mastered. Despite Jungkook’s urge to feel loved and worshipped to a dependent degree, you’re an incredibly attractive change in pace.

Ugh.

Dependent degree.

Although, he does wonder what you’d be like if you fawned over him.

Jungkook contains the fantasy; suppresses his sigh.

“So,” he starts, “you’re here because you’re a fan.”

“Mmmh. Kind of. My friends started it and then pulled me into this. Honestly, at first I couldn’t imagine ever getting into your stuff.”

Your gaze moved down to your trainers a mere moment ago; whether to hide your expression or give into a habit, Jungkook can’t say. But the honesty surprises him; even stings a little as he voices, “Oh?”

Your head shoots up, lips forming a circle before you imitate, “Oh. Wait. That was… pretty rude.” You seek confirmation or denial in Jungkook’s eyes, and when his slightly wrinkled forehead, tight-lipped smile reveals the answer, you immediately opt for an apology, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“How did you mean it then?”

“Just that.” You fiddle in your position, bringing your digits to waist level. Then, you laugh; a rhythmic sound. “Okay, don’t hate me, but. I was one to judge a book by its cover, and you had this young adult too-confident-too-sly something about you. But your music’s surprisingly sentimental.”

Jungkook halts for a moment, moving his head to side-eye you; producing a hoarse Uhhh before he admits, “I’m not sure whether you’re complimenting me or fully destroying me.”

Another lovely laugh. “I am complimenting you. To be fully transparent, I was probably, uh, biased? Because my friend. They have a knack for usually pulling very questionable men, so I probably just didn’t entirely trust their intuition.”

“Fair enough. I guess?” Jungkook matches the softness of your giggle, nodding towards you, “And now you do?”

“Mmmh, well, we’ll see.”

Jungkook must be stupid. Of course you won’t be able to deduce much from the first meeting yet; perhaps the flirting needs to slow down for just now. You seem the patient kind; much like now, letting the quick silence prevail without much struggle.

No sign of awkwardness surrounds your aura; only a hint of… suspicion? Flashing into your eyes when you let them move through the room again, freezing right next to Jungkook’s head. You’re not looking at him, but at something past him; but you don’t question nor voice anything.

Merely return to his stare with a smile, and he uses the moment to pour some courteous manners into the mix, asking, “Do you want something to drink? Coffee, water? A Red Bull?”

But you immediately raise a hand, shaking your head, “Oh, it’s okay. I’ve already got caffeine flowing there instead of blood,” you slide a finger along your arm, indicating a vein under your layers, “I just mainly came to say hi and to introduce myself. And to ask if I can help anyhow.”

“Ah… well, uh,” Jungkook halts mid-sentence, throwing a look around as though he’s searching for something to appear before he concludes, “don’t think so. I was in the middle of some production work, but don’t think I need much.”

“I see. Okay! Then I’ll leave yo—”

“But,” Jungkook intervenes immediately, adamant on keeping you around. Maybe he can wrap up work earlier today? Bring you home? Probably not — not on Taehyung’s watch. “Maybe you can tell me what you think once I’m done?

“Of course. It’d be my pleasure.”

“Would have an excuse for your company, too, then.”

The laugh that follows is so subtle that Jungkook barely hears it. It doesn’t leave your throat, stuck in there, just a tiny sound reminiscent of amused bafflement.

Jungkook knows his way around words — understands what his utterances and implications usually apply. But somehow, not too many people have been the calmer ones in the room; aside from his superiors at work, not having the upper hand is new to him.

So you set a fuse loose in him; destroy a nerve in his brain, changing up his communication habits. Because he certainly did not mean to say this out loud. And not in such a sense either.

He adds quickly, “I mean, it gets lonely here.”

“Right…” you concur, albeit weakly and with somewhat… entertained mystery in your eyes? He can’t say. It’s as though you’re wearing your face as a mask, undecipherable. “I get it. Even though your studio is cosy enough to enjoy your own company at times, right?”

“Not mine. But we’ll work on that.”

He cards his fingers through his hair, aware that he is probably more than an open book right now; his usual perfect poker face does not work with you.

Why?

Weird.

“Got a couple things here that are mine, though. Yoongi and the others allowed me,” he adds.

“Ah… Like…”

Surprisingly enough, you take another look through the tiny room, possibly trying to detect something you didn’t see before. Regarding details. Then, you settle next to his head once again… and once Jungkook moves his eyes off you for the first time since you came in, he sees what you see.

Which is to say, nothing much out of the ordinary. In fact, the most trivial thing in the room.

“Like that?” you voice, pushing yourself off the wall to near his relaxed body. The scent of your perfume wafts through the room before you’re close enough; tenderly grazing his senses. “What’s that?”

Focus.

Your finger points to the object next to him, hanging at a nail at the wall; dark blue with white letters on it. Pretty mundane, pretty basic design.

“Just… a cap I bought back in college.”

You read out the name, pronouncing it perfectly, yet slowing down as if you’re learning a new foreign term. The sudden inquiry is strange, too: you don’t seem as truly curious about it as your question did; perhaps you’re playing for some time with him, too?

He wouldn’t hate it if you did.

“Do you know that one?” he questions.

You nod; a main hint as to why you wanted to know, yet indicating that the knowledge wasn’t of much significance. You say, “Isn’t it a popular one? I had a few friends who went there.”

“Hm… yeah, I mean. I guess it’s a known one. I got a degree there in broadcasting and entertainment like… four years ago.”

You exhale a barely audible puff of air before you whisper-murmur the most infinitesimal, petite, “Damn,” underscored with one indecipherable tilt of your head. He can’t see your eyes too well, so the reaction remains as transparent as you have been thus far.

Until he raises a thick eyebrow, confusion hidden in a somewhat relaxed yet awkward smile as he wonders, “What?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing, just. It’s impressive how much you’ve achieved in just four years, right?”

“…Well. If you say it like that, it does sound pretty neat.”

The bubble of pride expands alongside his ego; right beneath his chest. Somehow, the feeling changes his posture, makes him feel bigger.

Perhaps you notice what your praise elicits; perhaps you’ve already fathomed his persona that he usually doesn’t dare to reveal this fast. But whatever he conceals with his fans, lies in front of you with an open access.

You make it easy to feel comfortable; he doesn’t need to know you too long to acknowledge this much.

“I graduated not too long ago, too. Three years?”

“Oh… then look at you,” Jungkook compliments, using the moment as an excuse to examine you further; head to toe and back. Your legs are crossed, upper body and face confident, but the position somehow delicate. Hm. “You’re quite awesome, too, don’t you think?”

“I mean— took a while to get here.”

“Right. So what have you been doing during this time since graduation?”

Whatever distraction you have found in the cap seems to break as you silently forage your brain for a response; possibly attempting not to divulge too much. And your answer is accordingly hesitant, though never dubious.

“Saving up? Preparing for life, I guess. And waiting for a good opportunity.”

For what? Do you usually keep your statements in fragments?

He prods, “To do what?”

“Well, to do,” you gesture to the wall in front of you, albeit clearly hinting to the situation, “this. Hoping to change everyone’s lives around here.”

You smile wide, the joke obvious as can be, but Jungkook can’t help but think that you might not be too far off. Unique minds alter brain chemistries; there’s something unforgettable and magnetising about them, and Jungkook steadfastly believes his intuition that you might just be one of them.

For the first time ever, he murmurs your name, delighted by how easily it melts on his tongue. It falls out breathier than he intended to, but when you tilt your head, the intrigue in your pupils inexplicably matches his tone.

He adds to your name, eyelids drooping just a bit, “So… you’ll turn out a long awaited surprise, huh?”

And you, against all expectations, lean in for just a minimal, not too inconsequential moment, hands back in your jacket. It’s a playful, harmless motion as you move back on your heels, then steady yourself again, bodies and faces still far away. You could’ve just as well given him a pat on his shoulder.

But there’s something in the way you look at him, tempted and ominous at the same time. He can’t say what you’re thinking because every feature in your face implies something different.

Even more so confusing what methods for success you came into this company with when you finally say, no pretext or further clarifications, “I really do hope so.”

“Do you come here a lot?”

Everywhere he goes, the lights are bright.

The white walls in the rooms of the company building reflect the sun in the summer and maintain a sense of optimism in the winter. They’re what Jungkook imagines waiting halls before Heaven to look like.

Then the fluorescent vibrancy in his apartment. And the sunlit sky, albeit cold in this winter, giving way to the planetary system’s star through the floating, parting clouds.

Even this modern art museum with its complex design, winding staircases, glass walls and high ceiling. It lets through an abundance of light, unaware of the balance Jungkook usually craves.

Dark and light — a healthy mix.

It’s why he cherishes the comfort of the recording studio so much. Its dim walls and the silence, so unlike the hallways outside of it. Or why he prefers his apartment unlit, often merely allowing the few lava lamps to illuminate his rooms.

But again… it’s only a balance he usually craves.

Today, he doesn’t mind the brilliance.

Because you’re part of it.

Clad in a beige long-sleeved cotton top, slight turtleneck included. It doesn’t fully cover your neck, still revealing a mole similar to his. It’s tucked into your light brown skirt; your legs are covered in sheer tights, crossed. A gentle hand holds the strap of your bag. Light academia at its finest; somewhat soothing, and somewhat radiant.

You look at him with an initially neutral expression, surprised that someone spoke to you, but more relaxed when you realise it’s him.

“Oh,” you voice; the faintest autumn-tinted smile tugs at your lips. “Hey! I, uh…” Your gaze flits to the painting in front of you, then back to him. “Not at all actually. Which… surprising.”

You gesture towards him before you grant him more of your silky voice, asking, “Do you? Come here much?”

Your eyes are indecipherable to him, cheeks dusted in natural make up. All the damn time, you sport this relaxed, unbreakable mask, and he can’t quite guess what you might be thinking about.

It’s so easy with anyone else. You’re like a scene from BBC’s Sherlock, embodying Irene Adler’s mystery.

But maybe your guard can be broken, too.

“Not really,” he admits, “only when pretty people are around.”

A weak attempt, but it makes your eyebrow cock in amusement. He knows you are, because the hint of mischief that scurries over your face resembles his own.

“Ah, and you happen to know when pretty people are around. Or did you follow me here?” you, however, ask.

It’s an obvious inquiry, but weirdly enough, he didn’t expect it. You exhibit the first sign of a proper, humane emotion. Delivering three quick blinks, voice quiet, suspicion swims in your eyes, slightly irritated.

Or even… scared?

You can’t truly be.

So he backtracks, slightly angling his head. He sighs — hiding how much his lungs crave a breath of air. He doesn’t want to scare you off just yet.

“No,” he defends, “of course not. I was just joking.”

“So… I’m not pretty?”

Oh. Oh?

Perhaps he misinterpreted your expression. Perhaps you’re merely a good actress; messing with him as he is with you. The smirk suggests this much, at least.

Perplexed, he holds his breath before letting out a choked laugh; the head tilt and click of his tongue carry a sliver of scolding before he admits, “That’s pretty frustrating, I won’t lie.”

“I’m just kidding, too. It’s a big exhibition. I expected a familiar face here.”

Why is there something so devilish about you?

He can’t say; maybe he doesn’t need to. Maybe it’s enough to join the game, to be just as cocky and see how you react.

Perhaps he’s being selfish and too certain of himself, and in the worst case, he might just be imagining the tension buzzing between you like sparks off an electric fence. But does he have anything to lose, really?

Barely ever.

“Then,” he begins, “is it a good face?”

“All the art around us and you want me to admire you, huh?”

“…The art won’t be mad if you do.”

Jungkook is bold, he’ll admit. He hasn’t always been — he remembers a time spent in the back of classes, preferring to eat lunch alone. Did college tug him out of his shell? Was it senior year?

Then again — did that one kill the timidness in his heart or rather the last shred of humanity?

Maybe his cold matches yours, too. Is that why he feels so drawn to you?

Because you’re as bold as him; you don’t sugarcoat words and thoughts. And Jungkook appreciates the honesty, the ingredient to actual success — even if it’s achingly direct.

Like now.

You uncross your legs; your hips move in an elegant curve, and Jungkook attempts his best to keep his eyes off the arcs of your body. Focuses as you say, “You shouldn’t be flirting with a coworker, Mister Jeon.”

“Wait. I thought we were warming up to each other. Don’t demote me from Jungkook to Mister Jeon now.” You chuckle; that’s something, right? “Besides, I was just conversing. We need to spend all our time together now, so better get along, right?”

Right. Right; of course he’s right.

But… what is that?

It lingers for the faintest of moments, just a glimpse of an unspoken feeling, gone with the next blink. In this crowd of unsuspecting visitors you’re the closest to him physically, but your thoughts are miles and centuries away.

“Maybe you’re right,” you still say, as if whooshing away all unwelcome sentiments, “then I should not… dodge your conversation, right?”

“Sure.”

“Behave, though.”

He’s so confused — but not deep in this enough to question it. So he merely shrugs his shoulder before he responds, “I have been. I can converse, alright.”

“Right.”

“Like… first of all,” he steps closer, raising a hand, gesturing for you to walk on as new admirers of the modern piece approach, “tell me, have we met before? Feels like I’ve seen you somewhere.”

You halt in your steps, but immediately resume to the stroll when a stranger nearly bumps into you. “You’re doing it again.”

He’s honestly not. The aura surrounding you like an ominous fog is omnipresent and eerie, yet… you carry a sense of familiarity. But you’re a presence too distinct to ever forget.

Which doesn’t help his case.

“Yeah,” he still agrees before potentially embarrassing himself, kissing his teeth, “sorry. I’ll stop.”

“Why are you the textbook definition of a fuckboy, honestly.”

“Fuckbo—”

“Nevermind.”

If he wasn’t well acquainted with this little game, he would’ve missed your subtle, nearly veiled intent to tease. But he’s done this a million times before — hence, catches the faint twitch of your gorgeous lips immediately.

You’re enjoying this. So he should join… right?

Yet.

You’re not being entirely insincere. In fact, he hates how he picks up on the note of truth in your velvety voice.

Trimmed nails scratch the back of his head, and he barely notices when the two of you halt in front of another piece. Distracted, he doesn’t bear the art any mind, instead asking, “You really think of me that way?”

You shrug a shoulder. Nonchalance a constant feature, but so natural, even somewhat gentle, that he can’t help but feel drawn to you. “A little.”

“Well, shit.”

“Don’t overthink it. Enjoy the art.”

“Sure.”

Reluctantly, he glances to the canvas. It’s a mess of hues; a random arrangement of spontaneous emotions. Resembles the masterpieces he used to create in Microsoft Paint, back when his legs would still dangle off the chair.

“Then,” he starts, nodding towards the painting, “what do you see in this?”

You hesitate. Or maybe it’s not hesitation — more like… a thinking pause. Sometimes, when Jungkook notices a whirring mind, he sees a steaming brain through a skull. Working at full blast.

But somehow, he only sees a calm ocean as he observes you gather your thoughts. Everything about you is gentle, but wrapped in dark mystery. How much mental training does it require to become this inscrutable?

When you finally speak, you’re saying similarly strange things.

“I see… colours.” Right. Stating the obvious. Jungkook chuckles, delivering a head tilt. “And am wondering how the painter got to create this at all. I mean, this looks so meaningless at first, doesn’t it?”

“And it’s not, yeah?”

“We’re fast to think that. Most of the time, there must have been a trigger, or a thought about something, no matter how small. Something might have been bothering him. This is—” A soft hand gestures towards the painting. “Such a chaotic mind.”

Interesting…

“Is this what you usually think about all day?” Jungkook wonders.

You scoff. “I’m just a person, too. I think about a lot of random things.”

“Ohhh. Like what?”

“Like… seeing all the green in this exhibit made me realise how this colour makes me cry.”

Jungkook takes a haphazard look around. Now that you say it — there’s no hint of a nature theme, but the abundance of green is striking now. It’s as calm as you. No wonder you’d immerse yourself in a showcase such as this.

You continue, as if tracing and reading his mind like an open novel, “It’s soothing, right? And unique. These earthly things sometimes make me feel like not all of us are deserving of seeing such beauty. Like it should be reserved for those who earn it.”

Earn it? How?

Jungkook can’t see your thoughts as clearly as you’re apparently capable of doing, but he has an inkling of what you might mean. Truly dazzling souls merit the stunning bloom of the world, right?

And then…

If that’s what it is.

He wonders — do you think he deserves to see the colour green? Or is it already over if he has to ask? Perhaps, should he be perceiving it as grey right now? He doesn’t know.

He doesn’t know how you think of him — doesn’t know anything about you at all. You’re a tough nut to crack.

“Hmm… that’s a way to think about it,” he says.

“Only because it’s the same for people. And I’ve had this thought about humans a lot… I…” You hesitate, blink, and then grant him your stare. “I knew someone who was the colour green. Not everyone deserved them, either.”

Poetic minds carry a certain pain in their eyes.

He’s been seeing it in yours. He just doesn’t know how to handle it. So he doesn’t.

Instead, he asks, “What else are you thinking about?”

“Uhmmm,” you voice, straightening your back a little, as if waking up from a dream — nightmare? “I’ve been thinking about trying that, too. Painting, I mean. It doesn’t have to mean anything or be good. Just a great way to capture something that resonates with what I feel.”

Every word you’ve uttered today was otherworldly. You didn’t talk like that when you were in his office, or at the meeting. Your soul is somewhat free-floating here, and he doesn’t understand why.

And it’s a behaviour he usually strays away from. The vulnerable ones can be dangerous.

But somehow… you’re too strong of a magnet.

One who shrugs all the mystery away — and he sighs in despair. Maybe it’s not time to find out what you feel just yet. What resonates with you — even though he’s dying to hear it.

He inquires, “Are you always this open?”

“No. Not at all.” Of course not. Rhetoric question — he knows this much. “But I like thinking out loud sometimes.”

“I’m glad to be a sounding board then.”

“Yeah. I was also thinking how I appreciate that I met you here.” Pause. Oh? What a surprise. Out of the blue, too. Strokes his ego, though. And then, unexpectedly again, “You wanna go to the museum restaurant?”

Jungkook has barely seen half of the exhibition yet. But just for today, he couldn’t care less.

Perhaps it’s enough for now, sitting in this overpriced restaurant, watching you from afar as you inspect your nails calmly. You’re not busy on your phone like the rest of the crowd — entertained by the same media that he’s part of.

Maybe he can be a bigger part of their lives one day — be the one flitting over their screens, the one they adore. The one they worship.

But you don’t seem to indulge in those mind-numbing devices for now. You might be an addition to his team, but privately, you float in your own world. Distracted by the thoughts you won’t disclose.

Your hands retreat, arms crossing on the table and lips curling into a smile once he strolls back to you. Satisfied, he informs you, “One cake with the coffee. As the lady suggested.”

“Oh,” you make, “don’t you want one?”

“I do.”

“So…” You stall, and he waits until it clicks, your head tilting in understanding. “Are we sharing?”

Jungkook lifts a thumb, pointing over his shoulder, back to the register, “Those chocolate cakes are sweet as heck. I’ve got a sweet tooth, but believe that it’ll be enough for the two of us.”

You laugh — a sweet, disarming chuckle before you breathe an, “Alright.”

Jungkook doesn’t know you well enough to feel any skip in his heart; yet, you stir something else in his mind. It’s always people like you who intrigue him the most — those who veil themselves in a coat of secrets.

He sighs.

“That was fast,” you note, eyes at a point behind him.

And he understands when the waitress arrives a couple moments later, two perfectly prepared lattes and a mouth-watering chocolate fudge slice. You thank her with a gentle smile, tuck a hair behind your ear, fingertips grazing the dangling earring.

And he watches.

Watches as you nod towards him, urging him, “Start then.”

Observes your smile as he signals you to start instead. And he gazes at you as your delicate digits reach for the fork, tearing off a piece, wrapping your lips around the utensil.

And then… God.

He feels his guts twist; hears all background noise fade; blood rushing away from his head, through his body as you slowly relish the sweetness and then drag your tongue over the fork. Licking away the leftover chocolate.

Jungkook swears it happens in slow motion. And witnessing your elegance at snail's pace… makes him sick.

When your eyelashes flutter, gape lifting to meet his, the sounds around him come alive again — as does he. He averts his stare from your mouth, covered in the same colour as the coffee, but you notice.

You see him looking. And it makes you… smile? Shit.

But you don’t boast your effect; only digress as you say, “Well… tastes as fancy as it looks. Try it.”

You’re as relaxed with him as you can be. But you always are; with everyone. He craves that bit that’s only reserved for him — then again, maybe he’s too zealous too fast. He hasn’t known you for long.

But making you smile must be an achievement. If only… you didn’t think of him like…

He nods, and then leans over the table ever-so-slightly. His knees brush against yours, a soft but deliberate move. He places an elbow on the table, grasping the fork, close to you. If he lifted his hand, he could touch your cheek.

He wishes he could.

His eyes meet yours through his bangs, the cake’s taste irrelevant to your presence. And when his ego doesn’t let him relax, he finally asks, almost as if insulted, “Do you actually perceive me as a fuckboy?”

The question catches you off guard. You hesitate, furrowing your eyebrows, and then giggle before questioning back, “Jungkook… it’s bothering you this much? Mmmh. How would you like to be perceived?”

“Just. As a decent guy who wants to get to know you. And I know you know.” You blink, but he doesn’t buy it. So he elaborates, “I’ve been trying to make clear that I find you lovely. And somewhat attractive.”

People usually display a flicker of glimmer in their eyes upon hearing such praise. But you don’t quite budge; in fact, your eyes remain the same, if not a little darker. Why?

Yet, you cock an eyebrow, sporting a teasing, playful tone, “Somewhat, hm?”

He shakes his head, clicks his tongue. “You’re pretty and I think you know,” he blurts, “and I don’t want to screw up right away.”

Is it the habit of never failing? The urge to solve an enigma? The chance to dive into you until you’re bared to him? Why are you so interesting to him?

You’re just a person.

Maybe it’s just the unsettling need to discover what you’re hiding — it won’t let him rest in peace. There’s something about you that screams to him to unravel. Makes him want you more.

He doesn’t know what it is. Doesn’t know if you’re even from the same world as him — even though you seem to have crossed his realm before. No matter what it is; Jungkook merely understands for now that he wants to take off your layers.

Wants to be the colour green for you.

“Ah—” you voice.

“In fact, I’m not supposed to hang out here with you.”

“…How come?”

“I should be with Tae,” he admits. Maybe he’s revealing more to you than he should — maybe he should adjust to your level of secrecy and wait. But this is frustrating him. “He dragged me here, so I could get inspiration from all sides.”

You listen; perhaps not quite loving the idea of seeing him in such a way?

Fuck. Maybe it really was a mistake. No turning back now, though.

“He said artists find motivation in art, too, and I do like to paint, so…” He looks at his cup, still left to be tried from, and then stares up from the cream leaf that the barista formed in his coffee. “I didn’t wanna come here, though. I already have an idea of what I want to do.”

“And…” you start, still not addressing the issue on hand; choosing to talk about something else for now, “he doesn’t like what you’ve come up with?”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t know about it yet.”

You take a sip of your coffee, softly smacking your lips once to relish the taste. You’re living proof that subtle gestures can make a mind race. Then you say, “Maybe you should introduce it to him then.”

“I will. Just… mmh, need a better grasp on it.” He throws a nod towards you. “I can’t wait to show you either.”

Another sip of the seething liquid.

If the gentle hint of him being bent on your presence flatters you anyhow — stirs anything in you at all — you don’t let it show. Are you, by chance, used to being swarmed from all sides?

Are his advances kindergarten to you?

You don’t budge as he waits for you to respond, setting the cup back on your saucer before you inquire, “Where is Taehyung, anyway then?”

“Uh, I’m sure he’s going around admiring the art?” Jungkook guesses, head reflexively moving to the side, as if his friend and co-worker could materialise out of thin air. “He enjoys it even more than I do.”

“And you separated from him because…”

Because Jungkook ascended a spiral staircase. Because he turned right and halted in front of the second instead of the first room. Because he recognised the familiar curves and edges, as intriguing as ever, from this far distance.

And told Taehyung to continue without him; that Jungkook was going to explore a different corner of the museum.

He tilts his head; his left eyebrow raises just a twitch, fingertips tapping the hot surface of the coffee cup. And then, charisma gathered in the middle of his pupils, he tells you—

“Because I found you.”

There it is.

The slightest of reactions.

Your eyes widen barely an inch, but he sees it. How your lips part a bit, even though you should’ve expected his answer after the conversations hitherto shared. Hm…

“So you did follow me,” you say.

He can’t say if you’re joking or not. But all of a sudden, he wonders if he’s creeped you out. He opted for flirting so clearly, but… maybe you interpreted it vastly differently.

But he keeps himself relaxed; not faltering now when you aren’t either. Answers, “If you want to call it that. I call it finding you and then sticking with you. You’re interesting, Miss Manager.”

You smile.

Genuinely, thoroughly, wholeheartedly.

The beam reveals more than any word could’ve today — that humanity slumbers somewhere in the crevices of your heart. Your eyes suggest it as much as your stance on art did.

Whatever might have scarred you in life, behind all that ache, you hide a delicate soul.

Green, green, green.

And your cryptic worry, uttered a moment later, doesn’t bring him down from his sense of victory. No. Not now.

“Yeah?” You cross your legs, letting out a breathy sigh. “Then I sincerely hope that doesn’t change.”

[6:43PM] Jeon Jungkook: i’ve been thinking about something. and of you

For a bedroom as sparsely decorated and light-coloured as Jungkook’s, he should be surrounded by a brilliant glow. And usually, he is.

The windows occupy half of the wall, the bedsheets a perfect white; had he texted you a couple hours prior, he would’ve found himself in the gleam of a pale blue late winter sky. But if he’d tapped your name on his device earlier, he would’ve indulged in a whole different mood, too.

Wouldn’t have given into fatigued, delirious fantasies. Daydreaming about the curves of your lips and about the single strands of hair kissing your cheeks. Or the way you love exposing your neck, as if to taunt him.

It’s right there, but you can’t touch it, Jeon.

And…

And the mounds of your chest, slivers of it visible whenever you put on those heaven sent dresses. Their cuts are almost as deep as the ones damaging Jungkook’s brain. And not much for the sake of his sanity, the thirst isn’t quenched just yet.

Crossed legs badly hidden under your see-through tights. The movement of your hips when you walk into his studio, placing yet another gruesome schedule onto his desk. Your scent when you lean into him, pointing to another meeting he barely recalls.

You… you…

If Jungkook hadn’t already cleaned up the sloppy mess previously covering his knuckles, trickling down his thighs, he’d possibly give into the urge to sneak his fingers back to where he craves them to linger.

No, you made that mess.

Of his sheets, of him. And you never needed to be here in the first place.

Jungkook is no fool — unlike many of his friends, he doesn’t deny the way his body winds. He knows what he wants; and right now, he hungers for you. Wants you to eliminate the drought on his tongue; wants you to replace it with some taste instead.

“Fuuuuck.”

The word drags into the emptiness of the room, filling the silence that someone else should be lifting. But you’re not here, and you’re not answering. Not yet, at least. Has it been seconds or minutes?

Too long, is all he knows.

His digits are cleaned thoroughly, but he can’t shake the persisting feeling of sheer, dirty lust as they reach his phone again. Lighting up the screen, then curling inwards in frustration.

He repeats the desperate attempt of manifestation a couple times until he throws the device aside, nearly missing the mid-air vibrations, indicating the long-awaited message. Jungkook’s heart falls out of his ribcage and squeezes his guts; your name elicits far more than it should.

And he feels just a little guilty.

Because he doesn’t deny himself any pleasure — so he knows this isn’t love. This isn’t starving for emotionality. Not for sentiments. What you pull out might be his ugliest, beastliest side; his mind is filled with images of you that he shouldn’t be having.

You’re so respected. So tender and kind. Intriguing, a riddle, but inhabiting secrets probably far darker than his thoughts. So he feels odd about the wanton desire; feels guilty.

But just for a bit. Just a little.

The message you sent back is too humble, too innocent. Sometimes he reckons you’re aware of your power, and sometimes he assumes you think of yourself as… ordinary.

But you’re not. And he wants to show you.

Just one touch, please.

“Fuck, shut up, you creep,” Jungkook whispers to himself, scolding his treacherous mind before he reads again.

[6:52PM] You: Oh? Why would you be thinking about me? Of all people?

Should he wait? You did, too.

Or should he make as crystal clear as he can muster that he’s been waiting for you?

Screw it.

[6:53PM] Jeon Jungkook: what else should I be thinking of?

Your next response is immediate — you’re online. Waiting for him to answer.

Good.

[6:53PM] You: Your music?

[6:53PM] Jeon Jungkook: my music doesn’t talk to me as much as you do these days

He smirks. Keeps the beam plastered to his face until the waiting becomes a little too long. Message on read, you leave the chat room empty of you and full of a nervy Jungkook. He opts out of it the same second, keen on patience before it fades again, bit by bit.

Because then, the thoughts flood in.

Are you rolling your eyes? Throwing the phone into a corner of your couch? Has he fucked up before anything could start?

But it’s been going so well. You talk to him every single day. Ever since the museum, the two of you have been orbiting each other; partly due to work, partly because he’s caught you smiling, too.

Your words are too sickeningly often accompanied by a soft touch of yours against his shoulders; against his arms. Sometimes, you brush his back, his eyes wide awake, the smile timid yet crushingly losing against your confident gaze.

All this must mean something.

“Nah. Fuck it,” he mutters again, sighing over his own constant use of curses. “Come back.”

[6:55PM] Jeon Jungkook: actually… I did come up with one tune. It’s just a skeleton of a song tbh, but I need a sounding board.

It takes another one minute for you to come back, and Jungkook angles his legs, relying on the movements of his body to ease the impatience. But then—

[6:56PM] You: Oh, and? [6:56PM] You: Sorry, I had to step away for a sec

Sigh of relief. Even though embarrassment annoyingly adds itself to the mix, an uninvited guest.

[6:57PM] Jeon Jungkook: …do you wanna come to the studio?

[6:57PM] You: Right now? It’s like… [6:57PM] You: 7pm

Unconsciously, Jungkook shrugs his shoulders, unbothered to the bone, just craving, craving, craving…

[6:57PM] Jeon Jungkook: a true artist never rests. [6:57PM] Jeon Jungkook: and I’d rather die than stop hustling for my passion

As the next message appears at the bottom of the screen, Jungkook can’t help but bite into his lower lip with a certain pride. He nods as if he caught his prey, trapping it between his fangs.

[6:58PM] You: 😂LOL. now that, I admire, mister Jeon :) [6:58PM] You: I’ll finish my wine and be on my way

Oh.

Are you tipsy? Maybe he’s reading too much into it, but the emoji seems so unlike you; yet, you somehow manage to capture the core of what and who you are in the rest of the message. Six coherent words. That’s all it takes.

Goddamn.

You’re so thoroughly you.

[6:59PM] Jeon Jungkook: wait. really?

And that’s it. You disappear.

Perhaps you’re joking; perhaps you’re messing with him. The sun has already set; and he doesn’t think he’s ever stayed with you much longer than dusk before.

If he met you in the evening, or on other nights, would you make more sense than you usually do? Are you the type to unravel when the world quiets down? Or the one to blend with the darkness more, drawing back further?

If there’s pure truth in what you just said, devoid of all mockery you could revert to… he might find out. And it seems you’re in the right mood today, earnest with your intentions when he feels his phone vibrate against his thick thigh again, making him flinch.

[7:11PM] You: Yes? I’m already dressed. Get your ass up

Oh shit.

Despite your order, his limbs still shut down. His muscles and bones melt into the bed, a fleeting image of your sly smirk crossing his mind and an assured voice surrounding his eardrums.

And if he didn’t overthink each of your movements; didn’t fantasise about the possible rise and fall of your voice, he would’ve discarded his phone and gotten dressed a lot earlier.

How embarrassing.

The fact that his mind doesn’t want to categorise this as a crush, no matter how much he asks. That his body responds to you like that, superficial and intrigued.

Embarrassing. He should focus on more important things.

Yet, he can’t be bothered with the intruding sentiment, shame shoved aside and trampled under his feet as his car turns into a parking lot, perfectly in front of the building’s entrance. Your form is crystal clear in the dark; not even the shadows and lack of light can hide your silhouette.

The radar sensor beeps when he creeps too close to the hood of the car behind him, and he mumbles a curse, averting his eyes from your unmoving self to focus on proper parking. Letting the roaring engine die.

Your shoulders are slightly raised when he approaches you at the door. One hand is stuffed in the pocket of your thin, baby pink coat, the other curled into a fist, possibly resisting the urge to enter the building and combat the cold.

You could’ve waited inside, too. Unless…

Maybe you’re excited to see him, too.

You smile, lips reaching far up; he tries his hardest to believe he’s right. Takes the gesture as a good omen, and the hair pulled up in a loose bun as a sign of hurry. You look domestic, comfortable in your skin, no matter who’s around.

But somewhere between the comfort and the softness, there’s that everlingering intrigue, too. And… some timidness. Showing in the crossed legs his eyes drift over, up to the short skirt barely visible underneath the coat.

And your face… so natural. More than usual. Mascara only? He doesn’t know.

All he knows is that he needs to say something.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you throw back, tilting your head in tease, “where were you? Took you long enough to get here.”

He steps closer; fiddling with his jacket’s pocket, fishing for the keys. And his proximity changes something about you so subtly, a miniscule movement. Hand digging deeper into your coat.

You’re on guard for some reason. And he can’t help but admit he’s on guard with you, too, albeit in a less physical and more mental way. The unfathomable, dichotomous sensation of wanting you near, wanting you far is killing him.

What are you hiding?

If he could, he’d speak it out loud.

“I had to freshen up,” he finally responds, “I honestly didn’t expect you to say yes.”

Your body might be in protection mode, but your voice is as composed, even somewhat amused, as always, “Well.” You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t see why. But I’m here now, and honestly… a little cold?” Nodding towards the door, “Should we go inside?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

He sniffles, fishing for the chip to unlock the door. For an ephemeral second right before walking inside, your breath lingers incredibly close to his own, grazing his lip ring. “Don’t forget to dress warm this season.”

Near enough for his fingers to succumb to the impulse and sidle to you, skimming your thigh so featherlightly. He thinks he hears the sharp inhale you suck in. His skin tickles, the shiver icy on his body. He watches you smirk, lowering your head; his fingertips insist on the vicinity just for the tiniest seconds before he says,

“Okay. Let's go inside before you catch a cold, silly.”

But the bitter frost permeates the hallways of the company in the same ruthless manner. Perhaps somebody’s still lingering around in the daunting dark. Revising steps in the mirrored practice rooms or hovering above lyrics and tunes, neck bent and back tired.

But the building isn’t heated; and it shows in your rather quick steps, an arm wrapped around your chest to rub the layers above your arm. The guarded demeanour doesn’t match your usual confidence; aside from the hollow hallways, it seems that you’re scared of more than just the cold.

He doesn’t point it out. And he doesn’t stare for too long.

If he did, you might realise.

Instead, he saunters to the elevator with you in tow, delighted about the light that never changes in the small rectangular space. You let your hand drop to your purse, lazily toying with its zip, and turn your head to observe the closing doors.

And Jungkook observes you.

The glow of your cheeks in the bright beam, half of your face devoid of the hair tucked behind your ear. As you breathe in, your lips split a fraction, and their gentle, soft curves mesmerise him for a moment too long.

It’s difficult and cruel, being around you. Haunting, agonising, aggravating.

And when your eyes align with his again, sparkling a little in line with your tender smile, Jungkook realises that he’s been holding his breath. Because it escapes between the seam of his mouth in a sudden push, his knees nearly buckling.

He resists the urge to bite into his fist, instead disguising his thoughts when he covers his mouth, teeth digging into his plump, lower lips.

“So,” he quickly adds, leaving no space for you to question his eccentricity, but you initiate another convo in the same tiny second, “It’s…”

You pause, withholding your statement in order to listen to his. But he shakes his head, lifting a hand to sign for you to continue. So you say, “It’s a little scary here at night.”

Okay. Not that tough of a topic.

“Right?” he confirms. “I always imagine getting here and hearing a hum that’s not really there.”

“Uh…” You blink in disbelief, lifting your eyebrows, but when he shrugs your confusion away, your hesitation marker turns into a chuckle. “Why the hell would you say that?”

“It’s just something I imagine. It’s terrifying, but my mind goes places, and I never ask it to.”

“Well, it’s a mean thing of your mind to do.” The ding of the elevator distracts you, and when you step out, your thoughts remain at an afar spot. Kept inside your pretty little head until you whisper, “And? Have you ever heard it, then?”

“Hm? The hum?” You nod, and he suppresses the snicker your curious, cocked eyebrow nearly elicits. “No. Only myself. Humming helps me control my breathing, so I do it to practise.”

“Weird. It’s so different from how I’d imagine you.”

Huh. Seems he’s not the only one sketching your entire being to keep himself awake at night.

“How would you?” he asks.

“As a rockstar?”

“Oh?” That’s new. “As a future RnB slash pop sensation I find this officially peculiar. Why a rockstar?”

You cock an eyebrow; either digesting the confident prophecy or pondering his question. The crooked smile matches his own signature smirk a little, and you puff out a breath before your sombre yet sparkling eyes wander an inch further down, right to his mouth.

Your eyelashes are endless, on their way to brush those delicate apples of your cheeks — in reality, it’s an impossible fantasy written in novels and poems, but it’s exactly how it looks. Exactly how much your curious gaze drops.

Only, the tingling sensation in his chest soon subsides, freeing a path to the realisation that he’s yet again misunderstanding. Because you’re not drawn by his lips, but rather considering a response.

He sighs in subtle disappointment when you point to the shiny metal encircling his lower lip, telling him, “Gotta be the piercing.”

“Ah. Ahhh. Well. First off, this is a very stereotypical assumption.” You shrug your shoulders in amusement, watching him cram for his chip until he halts in front of his studio, keeping you in his vision. “And secondly.”

The lock of the door clicks as he swipes the chip across the reader, defined knuckles paling a bit when he pushes the handle down. He raises his chin by a fraction, pulling out the most-assured smile, and asks, “Do you like it?”

And you, composed as ever, respond, “It suits you. I always wonder how comfortable these are, though.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, like. Do they have a metal taste? Do you ever get hyper aware of them and then get annoyed and want them off? Are they… cold?”

He laughs. There’s something endearing about how your voice quietens further the more your curiosity grows. You’re not quite looking at him, pupils focused on a random spot, hands expressive as you vocalise your thoughts.

“Let’s see,” he mutters, jacket thrown over a chair, “sometimes and, again, sometimes. It feels a bit cold right now because it’s cold outside. I mean…”

He rubs the chill off his tattooed arm, fingers diving under the short sleeves of his white, oversized t-shirt. Attempts never faltering, he leans into you in intrigue, parting his lips before running his tongue over the jewellery.

“Do you just. Wanna touch it and find out for yourself?”

You blink, frozen in place.

The room isn’t too spacious; Jungkook will get his very own studio, name tag and all once he reaches a clear peak. For once, he’s glad about the crowded room, girded by a guitar on the wall, chairs standing side by side, a little couch leaning against the back of the wall.

As ever, he can’t decipher your mood; as ever, you’re still quick to answer, “I… no. It’s okay.”

Why don’t you want him?

Goddamn it.

“Okay,” he simply utters, shrugging his vexation away. “Let’s get started then.”

The excitement in his tone dips, seemingly aloof, but as he walks into the dark square of silence, reaching for the headphones he placed right here mere hours ago, wordless curses dangle off the tip of his tongue.

He makes sure you don’t see the clench of his jaw or the fast and steady fall of his ego, but you’re shoving back the chair and adjusting anyway. Crossing tight-clad legs as you place your coat on your lap, throwing your mane to one side to free that damned neck.

It must be on purpose.

He waits for you to settle, the headphones on the table in front of you enveloping your head. They look way too big on you, and Jungkook can’t decide whether to tut at his anguish or swoon at your stellar being.

Jungkook uses his headphones to communicate through the glass, raising a thumb to ask, “Ready?” You nod, matching his gestures with your own. “Be honest, how professional do I look?”

Carding the fine hair back, he pushes a hand into the pocket of his pants, taking a stand in front of the boom microphone. He mimes a typical grimace of an immersed artist, letting out an immediate, sweet chuckle that you chime in joyfully.

You lean in, long earrings brushing your jaw, pressing down the button for the talkback mic to assure through the intercom, “You look like a born star.”

He rolls his eyes, playfully clicking his tongue, “Ahhh, that’s a nice yet basic thing to say, but. I’ll take it.”

“Why did you go in there anyway? Weren’t you just going to show me a song?”

“Adlibs, baby. I’m still missing those.” He adjusts the headphones again, clearing his throat, almost in position. “But I didn’t warm up my voice, so I’ll need to re-record them anyway.”

“And still you’re straining your voice because…?”

“We’re here to impress you, so let me.”

Your finger lifts off the button, but the movement of your lips suggests to him undoubtedly what your teasing self might be mumbling.

Oh damn. Sorry then, boss.

You raise your hands in defeat until you detect his beguiled smile, raising your eyebrows in a clear question that he answers with two words; a simple title of a song, not as glorious as the tune itself but hopefully as memorable.

Eyes scurrying across the now opened laptop screen, you search for the instrumental until you stumble upon it. 3:54 minutes of what Jungkook prays to be blasted everywhere in a couple week’s time before the big concert, chiming in his ears.

The initial guitar riff drowns the room in a mixture of intriguing anticipation and uncurbed sentiments immediately. Jungkook’s eyes dart to your face, attempting to decode a reaction. And when you notice, hands on the headphones, you nod approvingly.

Most of his vocals are already recorded to perfection; a silky voice laments about a lost time with purity. Jungkook largely listens in, searching for wonky bits or moments to be re-tackled. Of course, he will need to discuss the details with Taehyung tomorrow, but whenever the passion burns the hottest, he can’t help but add an adlib here and there.

As he sings, his eyes reflexively close, and for a couple dozen seconds, the melodic current pulls him towards a bigger ocean; the sense of freedom and possibility is astonishing. There’s a certain ardour he feels towards music that nothing will ever be able to elicit.

Do you feel the same?

As somebody spending day in, day out surrounded by musicians, does that phenomenon make your heart surge, too?

Maybe.

When he looks at you again, it’s at least something fervent he detects in your gaze. A bit like the longing he feels. Intense fondness, or perhaps, even zoning out — until you’re barely blinking anymore.

Your features relax a little more as the song proceeds, bit by bit, the calmest when the ending notes arrive. Jungkook observes you; freezes at his spot. The change from the built-up chorus to the suddenly calm ending, instruments dying, are as forgotten as the last touches… because you, behind the glass, are much more interesting.

Just staring. Looking at the screen, its brightness reflecting in your pupils. When you blink again, most of the preceding smile is gone, something indecipherable in your eyes.

He doesn’t know whether you actually enjoyed the entire thing or became consumed by memories he doesn’t know of. Some the song might have drawn out but shouldn’t have. There’s… a past in your stare.

He knows because much like the vast existing humanity, he’s been tending to faraway memories for years, too.

And he wants to know about yours.

Gently, Jungkook grasps the headphones covering his ears, the mane victim to the impact before his fingers fix it again. He frees his eyes off his strands, never directing them away from you, and when he opens the door to the small room you drifted off in, you look up.

Your emerging smile is unsuspecting and polite as always, and you deliver a tilt of your head. Jungkook could sign the previous oddness off as just this, or a sinking into arts just as he does sometimes.

But what’s enough is enough; brushing questions off his mind has become tedious.

So he rolls back the second chair next to you to take a seat, placing his arm on the one of the furniture before folding his fingers; leaning in, asking, “You okay?”

You react with a soft nod, a tender hum, “Yeah! I was listening.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

“You zoned out.”

“Which is a good thing, I promise.”

Jungkook looks for a moment. Waits for you to break or admit that the truth you display might not be as pure as you think; waits for his instinct to wind up correct.

But when you do nothing of that sort, eyes a resolute and solid statement, he sighs. Tongues at the lip ring for a moment before he clears his throat and questions, “Good thing, yeah? What else do you think?”

“It… goes deep,” you confess, an impressed declaration in your expressions, “what are you talking about in that one? I mean, I know, but… it sounds so personal.”

“More or less? I’ve spent most of the last few years dedicating myself to this job. The training, the late night sessions, the failure and lost time. I wanted to depict those hardships.” He nods, emphasising his points. “I want this song to help me look back one day…”

He shrugs his shoulders, thumbs slowly circling around each other, “And comfort my older self that despite the hectic life, things are okay.”

“I see.”

Your tone is neutral, but your chest rises and falls a little too slowly. Your sorrow is quiet. He closes the distance further, nudging your arm, “Hey. Did you not like it?”

“I did,” you defend, honesty and reassurance in your voice, “I do. You have an amazing voice, come on, what’s not to like. And the sound is incredible. Should you manage to release it, it will be celebrated a lot.”

“I will manage to release it,” he says with furrowed eyebrows, resisting the urge to touch your elbow again, but settling on simply calling your name instead, “you’re part of my team. Let’s be optimistic.”

“I am. Teamwork makes the dream work. Etcetera.”

“Right,” Jungkook breathes, word close to a yawn. He throws his body back in the cushioned chair, manspreading as much as the space allows; stretches his arms until his muscles crack. “Ahhh… I really want this to be good.”

His gaze falls to the darkening laptop, soon giving way to pitch darkness, potentially to some screensaver. The title of the song remains still in the opened audio file, and he smacks his lips, blinking only when you voice an approving, “Mhmmm.”

His head darts to you the moment you deliver a subtle nod towards the computer, deducting, “You really strive to be big.”

Well, yeah. That’s been the plan. Always, always.

“Shouldn’t I?” he argues. “It’s a dream.”

“It’s good to have dreams.”

“That’s right. Mine is to… Stand on a bigger stage. I think I’ve reached a solid group, but I think if I keep working hard and with the right team, I can make it?”

“This determined, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he responds with a hint of obvious self-evidence, slight confusion shadowing his mind — have you never wanted something so badly? “The audience’s eyes glued to me. Don’t you have a dream?”

Another deep inhale of air, chest working hard, as if you’re breathing out fatigue. He prepares for another vague answer that might leave him guessing; and albeit clearly seeing the usual curtain veiling your true thoughts, what you say next makes his ears perk up.

“Honestly. I’ll allow dreams again once I’ve moved on. That’s all I want.”

What?

Did you actually want to say that? Was it on purpose? A slip of the tongue?

Because it seems so unlike you. Reveals too much. He doesn’t think you’ve exposed your innermost thoughts like this before, even if still not quite transparent.

“…From what?” The previously relinquished distance dies when he inches closer again, digits sneaking close to your knee. A fingertip floats over your tights. “Hey. Is something bothering you?”

“Ugh,” you say; the sliver of sadness seamlessly transitions into an expression of nonchalance when you wave your concerns off so quickly. “Young adult stuff.”

Nevertheless, you speak on. The biggest development in this friendship between the two of you yet. “I once had a friend that moved away. We were pretty close, and now she’s far away. Which sucks.”

“I’m sorry.”

That’s it.

Jungkook offers to listen, but he doesn’t necessarily deem himself the most expressive guy when it comes to emotions like these; even if he so deeply wishes to read your thoughts. Music is different; speaking to an audience is, too. Articulating gratitude isn’t as difficult as extinguishing someone else’s grief.

And while not quite confronted with anguish, he houses demons that still haunt his nights; he can barely obliterate them.

Maybe he doesn’t need to.

Maybe he can comfort you in the only way he’s ever known. The stupid, selfish way; offering relief and distraction in the most sinful manner.

“Listen…” Jungkook starts, but in all honesty — there isn’t much to say.

Only to crave. To look.

At the curve of your lips. The distance between them. The bare wrist needing to be held, tired eyes wanting to replace the sorrow with something else.

Is he an asshole for wanting to annihilate your heavy breaths of dejection and replace them with sighs of his name instead?

He doesn’t know. He barely hears his thoughts. Only the blood rushing to his ears, and then away from his head, down his body.

Fuck.

The levitating finger drops an inch; you gasp almost inaudibly when the tip touches your knee, skin separated by the tights only. Jungkook loves fashion choices like these, but hates the hurdle right now.

His warm palm opens, placing right above your knee, approaching the meat of your thigh. He knows you’re not breathing because he can’t hear the exhales; and when his eyes, hooded and possibly insane, flit up to you, he recognises the change in your pupils.

You gulp; and then finally push out some air again. Your hand moves to his inked wrist, touching lightly, unsure what to do. But when you don’t resist, his other arm lifts, touch moving to your face, holding it.

The world spins, moving like an earthquake as his mouth draws nearer. You let out a miniscule sound that punches him in the guts; sweet and pure.

He wants to shatter and wreck you so bad; wants you to feel the same poison you’ve fed him. Irresistible, deadly.

But just as the metal of his jewellery grazes your lips, the softness and warmth radiating towards him, your breath shakes. Your face budges enough for his upper lip to feel a brush against yours, but that’s all he gets.

Because you retreat without giving in. And he doesn’t know why.

He clenches his jaw. God fucking hell. What’s your problem?

The sense of failure overwhelms him. Failure. Failure.

That’s not the term his mind should conjure. He knows the moral compass hides somewhere in his dark heart; he knows. Yet, he can never give into it. Is he a bad person? He doesn’t know.

Control was never his domain, after all.

But he keeps those intrusive thoughts inside, intending to not scare you off more than he already might have. So he accepts the dodging of the kiss, moving back, immediately leaving you safe from his touch.

And then, he says, “Uhm— I’m sorry.”

You don’t answer, still catching your breath, back to the heavy sighs that he was going to help shove back. Once again, he tries, “Honestly, I apologise, I just…”

“No, no. Please, don’t be sorry,” you reassure, slightly touching his shoulder. A wave of relief washes over him. “I’m just. Not in the right mindset for it yet. But I’m flattered, really.”

“Okay.” He nods. His eyes drop to his fingers; he still feels your heat on his skin, basks in it for a moment. But when the awkward silence lingers, he suggests, “Then. Let’s call it a night and I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sounds good. I’m definitely getting tired.”

“Me too.”

Jungkook rises from his seat, still unable to wrap his head around what happens — or almost happened. Maybe another time. Grabbing your coat from behind you, he helps you into it, avoiding your eyes, trying not to showcase his frustration.

Uncertain what to say, he reverts back to small talk, stating, “Thanks for still coming so late. You really do like the song, yeah?”

“Jungkook… it’s honestly very good.”

You smile; there’s something about your honesty. About the way you say his name. And how hopeful you truly seem for him. How much you seem to mean it when you say—

“If there’s anyone who can manage to wrap the world around their finger, it’ll be you, Jungkook.”

“Alright. I think I have an answer to your question now.”

You down the sip of red wine with a delicate smack of your lips, blinking at the change in topic. The evening has followed a pleasant pace so far, conversations well balanced; even though you still carry a sense of caution that Jungkook sees no reason behind.

Perhaps it’s the fact that after weeks of subtle, flirty undertones and advancing attempts you’ve taken the seat on his couch as he’s imagined for so long now. Maybe he still exudes something that screams for caution; maybe that’s just who you are.

Jungkook, for one, is just glad to receive any kind of recognition from you. But he’d be a fool to not insert all his effort into tonight, from the food to the type of drinks and conversations. He knows where he needs to be and he wants you to want it, too.

“What question?” you ask.

It’s just.

Despite the lightness with which you carry your talks, some of your movements feel off, detached from your body. Not quite matching the grace your face portrays; just that one hint. The one hiding in your fingers, tapping the dark screen of the phone resting on your thigh.

As if you’re waiting for a call or something to happen that Jungkook isn’t aware of. Who knows. Nothing has happened in the last hour, so this might be an unconscious gesture reasoned in nothing but an absent or distracted mind.

Yeah.

You’re probably not even aware of it and he’s just overthinking it.

He takes a breath, inhaling the aroma of the almost finished wine, “What I’d do if I could spend a day in a virtual reality.”

“Wait, does the Wembley Stadium doesn’t count anymore?”

Jungkook smirks, dismissing his own prior answer with a click of his tongue. “C’mon. Does it really? You can ask literally any artist ever and that’s what they’ll say.”

You ponder his response, pursing your lips in thought, and then shrug one shoulder. Nodding along, you acknowledge, “Right. So what is it then?”

“I’d just.” He sucks air through his teeth sharply, leaning back with a signature smack of his lips. “Get into a reality in which this damn song is already finished and mixed and ready to be released.”

This song referring to the concoction of sounds he showed you earlier, yet to be concretised and burnished to what he truly envisions. It’s the only song left that shackles him to the studio; at the upcoming concert, he’ll just sing the demo version as a sneak peak if needed. What a source of stress.

But you don’t see it as much of a struggle; you’ve told him a dozen times that hard work justifies a slip-up. That the progress on his album balances out the artist’s block.

Possibly why you laugh his worry off without mocking it, merely throwing back, “I’m disappointed.”

Oh?

“Why?”

“Just because — the Wembley answer was better.”

Unexpected and sudden — much like the snicker you elicit, throwing his head back just a little. Concurring, he sighs, “Okay, okay. What about you then?” He cocks an eyebrow. “You didn’t tell me what you’d do.”

“You didn’t ask,” you remind him, already slurring your speech a bit, though still remaining a stable and solid stance, “dunno. You want the sappy or the basic answer?”

“Is the sappy one a tear-jerker? Sounds like it.”

“For sure.”

“Then the basic one. Don’t dig being sad.”

“Thought so,” you answer, and Jungkook holds back from prodding again this time, despite wondering what image he gets across, “alright. I’d do things I’m unsure of in real life. Like bungee jumping.”

“Oh? Kinda did not expect this.”

“No?”

“Just having a hard time imagining somebody as calm as you jumping off a building. Or yelling.”

You roll your eyes. “Anyway. I’d love to go, but I’m too scared of the risks. Like, rope stuff. Don’t want to be jumping for the last time.”

“Okay, yeah, but,” Jungkook starts, hesitating, “I mean, you could say that about anything. You leave your apartment and get hit by a car and then you’d be going out for the last time.”

You begin shaking your head mid-sentence, already drawing a breath, ready to disagree. Then, “That’s a bad comparison. These things are a once in a lifetime experience.”

“I’m just saying! Why hold back from things that excite you.”

“…Maybe you’re right.”

Jungkook’s proud nod and hum are reciprocated with a soft smile, fleeting when you roll your eyes back to your phone briefly. Absent-mindedly, you drag a fingertip across the device’s side as Jungkook follows your movements.

Yet, unsure what you might be harbouring in this pretty head of yours, he doesn’t ponder but asks, “What was the sappy thing?”

It’s as if you live multiple lives, hiding them in your innermost parts; because once he finishes his question, your sparkle returns, and you smirk a little, suddenly leaning forward.

Wordlessly, you fish a tissue out of the square, wooden box, puzzling him for a second until he understands right before you clarify, “For the upcoming tears.”

His titter is immediate, a reflex. You might be relaxed as a calm river, but your humour does shine through among your other million traits. He shakes his head in rejection, smile still plastered to his lips, and watches you lean back again, clearing your throat.

“Mhh, I’d say,” you muse, “I’d try to get into a simulation of Heaven. Try to meet those I miss.”

“Oh… damn.”

“Yeah.”

“…I don’t know what to say.”

But despite the dumbstruck silence, his mind does conjure prompt associations. Like when the two of you sat in his studio just two weeks ago, you engrossed in his music yet somehow dissociated from reality.

You spoke about lost and faraway people back then, too. And he didn’t ask then, either.

In the depths of his mind, he wants to believe that you’re trying to lead him somewhere, fishing for his hand but never quite reaching it. Drawing back right before pleading for help; or perhaps wanting to make him understand a thought he can’t fathom in the way you form it.

The pattern is repetitive, loud — but he knows you’ll retract the moment he does lean into you, offering his ear to your worries and thoughts.

He can’t win.

“That’s okay,” you say, making up for his lack of proper empathy, and that’s where you leave it. Not hesitating, not indicating another hint to lead to your mind.

Yet, he clears his throat quietly, licking drying lips, and asks in attempt to grip the truth, your whatever-truth, “And, who’d be there? Do you want to talk about that?”

“Mmmmh,” you hum, pondering, before you treat him with the same disappointment he’s suffered throughout the last weeks, “no. I think I’m good.”

Unbelievable, and truthfully, frustrating.

Are you playing this side of yours? Is it an act? Are two sides of you fighting within you?

“Okay,” he simply responds, clearly agitated but unsure whether you notice. You’re looking at your phone again. He sighs. “And… Do you believe in that stuff? Heaven, Hell, stuff like that.”

You shrug a bare shoulder. “Dunno. I like to think there’s something, but then again I don’t.”

“How so?”

“The way I see it, it’s kinda simple,” you explain matter-of-factly, “some people are good enough to deserve a place in Heaven once they’re gone. And some people are terrible enough to burn for eternity.”

Coming from your sweet mouth, uttered in an equally soft tone, the sentence feels jarring. Jungkook has had these thoughts before; he’d be a hypocrite to judge you for yours, recalling moments when he wondered where he’s destined to land once he’s left this realm.

And somehow, it was never the prettier option.

Still, he utters, disguising his own past pondering, “Wow. That’s dark.”

“It’s true. There’s some serious crime in the world.”

Agreed. Perhaps, compared to the extreme sins, he can be forgiven. Right? Maybe…

“Yeah,” Jungkook accords, “then, why did you say that sometimes you don’t like believing in it?”

“I mean, if there’s actually something like Hell, and I happen to fuck up throughout life… I don’t wanna end up there.”

It’s like you’re mirroring his thoughts.

Even if he never quite thought about it to such an extent. Even though his idea of the afterlife built on what he’s already done, and not what he’s still going to do.

But your words give a subtle hope that redemption is possible. Who knows. Who really knows.

Perhaps it’s easiest to stray away from these thoughts and focus on you at this very moment. Even if it’s you triggering innermost fears; he doesn’t quite have a clue how you do it.

No matter. He’ll focus on you. Altruism might be the first step to vindication. Karma points. Karma points.

“Valid,” he says kindly, “can’t imagine you fucking up, though.”

“How would you know?”

“The company grapevine whispered a lil something about you.”

“Ahhh—”

“Good things! Other than that, I just think. Don’t know.” A small gap, well-hidden so far, grows in the back of his mind, tiptoeing to the very front of his mind. Before he’s thought it through, he blurts, “I’ll be honest with you.”

Your ears perk up, eyes suddenly wide.

What was that?

Okay. Whatever. Can’t stop his speech now, “Uhm, I’ll be honest and say that I’m not the best person I know. Like, I’m aware of that. It’s why sometimes, I don’t really understand how people can be as genuine as you.”

…Has he said too much? Or not enough? Because he could swear your face deflates, expression dimming, as if you expected something else.

And all you say is, “I understand.”

A flicker of slight panic creeps into his overthinking head, not usually a trademark of his personality. But you look dispirited, even if just for a second. He tries further.

“And from what I’ve seen, you go through life gently. The way you do anything is how you do everything, right?”

“Hmmm,” you voice again, pupils hidden until you look up. And when you do, he breathes a sigh of relief; deep and obvious, and he doesn’t care if you notice. Smiling sweetly, you tell him, “You said that really well.”

The way you say it is riddled with woe, but within a second, your eyebrows relax, mouth forming an authentic grin. Displaying real emotions suits you better than the mask of the frigid ice queen you keep plastered to your face; you look different right now.

Vulnerable.

And it makes him want you more.

Does it have something to do with the warm light he chose for this room? No. It doesn’t shine brightly enough to really illuminate your face that much. With the intensity lowered beforehand, some of your features hide in the dark when you lower your head a little.

And it’s not the decent amount of alcohol the two of you slurped.

It’s the usual, mysterious shimmer in your eyes, begging to take off more of your mental layers. The fragility behind the pretence of invincible strength. No doubt, you’re still a textbook definition of a femme fatale.

Still, there’s some sweet urge to surrender, visible in your stance. A fragrance luring him in. Warm skin close to his; calling for his fingers.

And he’s at your beck and call, ready and motivated; giving into your wanting eyes — or is that his own desire he’s confusing? — and leaning in. A little more with each tiny moment, advancing until the tips of your noses meet.

Your warmth consumes him; your breathing quickens, resulting in fitful exhales that he takes in with vigour, much drowning in his own head until you gasp and he realises—

“Sorry,” he mumbles, not yet retracting. His hand touches your knee, carefully but with intention. Waiting, he asks, “Is that okay for you?”

“…I’m not sure.”

Your answer takes a seat on his ego and weighs it down. Harsh, sudden, perhaps not unexpected but definitely breaking a string of patience within him. But consent is consent; he understands. He’s grown now.

Yet…

“Fuck,” he whispers under a faint sigh, dejected and confused.

And you hear it. Bambi-eyed, you ask, “What?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

He’d lie if he suppressed the disappointment. Working towards you for weeks was supposed to end in realising his fantasies into a palpable, actual feeling, with a side achievement of a deeper connection.

You don’t seem to want to provide it; he understands, but the agitation courses through him like a fire burning up a forest. The trees are his nerves; alight with different emotions. You’re fumbling with the soft cotton of your winter dress, and he averts his eyes.

Shutting them for a moment, he ponders his options; does he continue the awkward conversation? Or perhaps, ask you for your opinion straightforwardly? Maybe, after all this while, it wouldn’t be so stupid to swap a penny for your thoughts.

And his mouth opens, but it seems you’re faster. Crushing his questions and uncertainties when he hears you gulp, witness to another change of mind as your knee shifts forward. His eyes open rapidly, and when he looks at you again, you’ve moved closer.

Your leg touches his thigh; your eyelids half fallen, lips an inch apart and fingers hesitating, yet advancing towards him. Hope sparks and sparkles in him anew, and he suppresses the cheeky, triumphant smile.

He feels like an asshole. Oh, he feels so selfish — but he can’t be the only one. He cannot possibly be the first or last to give into deepest desires out of self-interest.

Carefully, he matches your pace, moving into your direction much like you are drawing into his. His hand lifts to your arm, and you suck in a breath as he touches your skin, your chest rising and falling deeply.

And his eyes observe. The motion drives him crazy. He wants to pilot his touch to this spot, wrap his palm around your mounds, desperate to feel your nipples perk up under his skin, your mouth fall wider.

Should he? Maybe, maybe—

Not yet.

Instead, he draws an invisible line with his fingertips, up your arm and to your shoulders until he reaches your neck. The sound you let out is so tiny he barely hears it, and you tilt your head to the other side, giving him free reign over your skin.

A spark lights up under his finger, as if he’s touched a defective bulb. He wonders if you feel the same flame when he charges for your jawline, tracing it for a moment before he moves to your seething hot cheek.

You’re burning up.

So he asks in a quiet, gravelly voice, somehow much lower than usual, “Are you okay?”

Your eyebrows are furrowed, and he starts to worry again; but maybe that’s just the same tension unleashing that he’s felt, too. The temptation runs deep; he could scream it out of his lungs and it wouldn’t be enough.

Relieved as you nod, he mimics the movement, whispering an, “Okay,” before he then dips forward, exhaling close to your neck hotly and… leaves a small kiss right there. He doesn’t know about you, but if you did that to him, he’d possibly faint.

One more kiss, and suddenly, your hand is on his knee. His head spins. Must be the alcohol. Must be you.

And you’re probably in no better state, judging the hot cheeks and the slight sway of your body. Must be the wine. Must be him.

And when his lips graze your jaw, your fingers curl in, clawing onto his knee, and his inner voice celebrates, “Jackpot.”

But not really. He’s going with the flow, exploring your preferences, but this needs to be the night of your life. His mind and ego want you to perceive it that way. So what should he do? What do you like?

Are you one to push him into the bed, holding his shoulders down? Straddling him keenly, pouncing on him, eyes rolled back?

Or do you give away all the power you usually emanate; hands bound with a tie, legs struggling between a rope, screams muffled under a gag? Do you wind and go crazy when somebody has their way with you, edging and then overstimulating, refusing a touch and then slapping your ass wound…

Should he let your siren eyes tempt him into submission or will you be the one drilled into his mattress with a hand around your neck and a trail of black mixed with tears under your eyes?

He doesn’t know. Because you’ve disguised all of you; hidden your mind behind a mask of absolute neutrality, hard to decipher. He can usually read women so easily. They lick their lower lips when they want him under them, and quiver when vice versa.

He’d oblige to either for you. So what does it matter in the end, anyway?

No, it doesn’t.

His tongue that lashes out, however, does matter. Tasting your skin as it drags over your chin and then to your mouth. Insane when he reaches your lower lip and you sigh, then back to your neck, blowing, teasing, still not kissing you… touching your thigh, moving inwards…

“What do you want me to do?” he asks.

And this time, while still a little quiet, you finally say, “More. You can do more.”

“Yeah?”

You nod as if starved, relieved when his hands leave your leg and venture further in. It’s hidden under your dress, but somehow, not seeing your full glory just yet, but observing your reactions to his movements, stirs his thoughts. If any were left, that is.

The touch to your panties is light, tender as he reaches the hem, driving a finger underneath it in exploration. You don’t say much, but he sees the zeal in your eyes, murmuring a little, “Mhm…”

And when he finally presses against the fabric slowly dampening, lightly as he rolls his digits right where your skin so incredibly softens… you moan. You moan.

It doesn’t sound the way he imagined. But it kind of does. He doesn’t remember what he imagined — doesn’t know much at all. Just that he wanted this sound to echo within his walls. For him to be the one to drag it out. Not for anybody else, but him.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Okay. What if he does… this…

Thought so.

Sometimes, human beings have a fantasy unmatched, don’t they? Able to form and reform expressions on people they know that they have never seen. For example, he can imagine what you look like when you cry. Or when you’re mad. Or…

He knew you’d press your lips together, along with your eyebrows, muffling your sound once he sought out your clit and pressed against it. And not because he’s seen other women contort their faces like this; no… it’s an entirely new sensation with you.

You don’t compare to anyone. Nobody compares to you. Nobody, ever.

Sick of watching the invisible movement under your dress, he lets his eyes wander to yours, and you notice, do as he does. Eyes hooded, staring at him as if drunk — possibly, probably drunk.

Just once, he gapes down again, trying to adjust without crushing your knees with his. Comes closer. Then looks back at you. Absolutely astonished by the coloured lips drying up. Seeing your tongue peak behind your upper teeth, pushing against them.

Then you’re blinking, several times, not rapidly, but enough to indicate that you’re losing yourself, too. And then there’s some melancholy behind your gaze; he can’t say where it derives from… you seem to be coming out of a room that you kept dark for long enough.

He can’t say whether he’s further dimming the light in that room or lightening it up — and as he advances, gauging your reactions, he inwardly hopes it’s the latter.

So inwardly. So desperately.

Patience only persists for a moment; Jungkook barely believes in it. People always break. And he does when you lean forward as he drags his finger between your pussy lips, still over the clothing. You balance your weight with your arms, holding yourself up.

And then…

You so tantalisingly, softly, quietly, whisper his name.

Okay.

The snap was expected. The sigh he lets out was expected. And the way his lips finally crash against yours, making you almost fall back onto the sofa was expected, too.

But your taste… Why did he know you’d be as sweet as a cliché, like a perfume made edible? Matches your mystery and your elegance.

And the mellow, yet wanting sounds fit every move he makes. Like the moan-sigh combination when his bold hand wraps around the bun you’ve arranged your hair into. How you breathe into the kiss when he tilts your head a little, and then proceeds to loosen up said bun.

Releases it. Lets your hair fall. Pulls you in, pausing the make-out in the process, and then diving back in with a greed he’s never been met with before.

And as he kisses you, his index finger still dips into the uncharted territory below, ruining your panties some more as he soaks them; fucking loving how you whimper as a result.

No… this is ruining him just as much.

So he draws back from your body, attempting and probably failing not to look at you like an animal glaring down at his prey, ready to devour. He’s never seen this expression himself, but one or two girls have uttered quiet, “Oh-oh,” in such moments before — do you see the danger, too?

Or is he being cocky? But it’s not his fault. You make him cocky because he can never fucking say what you think! Of course he’d need the mental praise to himself — your opinion on him is too difficult to decipher.

He’ll keep the energy up. Make you shrink in his hold.

Hands under your ass, he lifts your lower body a little, amused by your wide eyes and how you wonder, “What are you d—”

Silencing the moment he uses his palms’ position to grab the hem of your panties and pull them down your legs. Over them and then on the other side of the table. The two of you won’t need those tonight.

“What does it look like that I’m doing?” he teases, smirk effective and permanent.

He likes that about himself. Maybe you’ll do, too. If not, then you at least do like how his fingers, impatient, find their way back home again, not before lifting your dress to your hips until you’re bared to him the way he’s craved.

And he pauses.

Oh, this treasure…

“You…” he starts, moving two ring-clad fingers between your folds. Testing the waters. “I’m not letting you go anywhere tonight. You’re staying right here…” He leans forwards, body on body, whispering against your lips. “Trapped under me.”

You want to answer, he thinks. Your eyebrows relax for a second, an inebriated smile playing around your mouth. If he knows you well enough, he’d guess you’re urging to dive back into your witty remarks.

But none of it is possible just yet. Because when he caresses your pussy again, increasing the pace without being too unreasonably fast, you bite your lip. He urges you to release it with his tongue. And when you do, his finger plunges in; as deeply as it can. So easily, too.

He kisses your clavicles the moment your nails get ahold of his arms, wiggling underneath him, but still caged in. And he sees the built-up frustration; how you kept yourself at bay, but can barely do it now. How you yearn for just one or two more right touches here and there before…

But before he can, he stops. Immediately, unexpectedly for you. Once again, mean, but…

“You’ll thank me later,” he utters — and with those four measly words, something awakens in you that was hidden for just the last ten minutes.

“Oh? You… you’re confident like this.”

“Of course I am.”

“Jungkook…” you say in such frustration that he thinks you’ll beg some more. But you don’t. Instead, you shake your head and say. “Men rarely manage to…”

“This isn’t rare. I’m not giving you rare, ‘kay?”

“I…”

“How…” he readjusts your body, pulling you down the couch, shifting until his knee keeps your legs apart. “How fucking insulting.”

Do you hear any of this anymore? Because your eyes are closed again. Hands still holding on; and… and body winding in order for your cunt to shift closer to him, suddenly rubbing against his knee.

It’s all you can get at the moment since his hands are so far out of reach. And the satisfaction of knowing that you’ll strive for anything at all is cosmic.

“You’re ruining my jeans,” he mocks, clicking his tongue as if to reprimand.

“Then…” You hook a finger into one of his jeans’ loops, pulling and then releasing again. “Take them off, coward.”

You don’t have to tell him twice. They say that if you have waited for so long, what’s ten more minutes? But no more. Not another second.

So he obliges immediately as he mutters, “‘Kay,” offering a helping hand when you work on his shirt. Off and to the ground. Pants off and to the back of the couch. He already knows he’ll be finding them all scattered the next morning.

But that’s the problem of just that next-morning-self.

Boxers still on, he returns to give you another initial taste of what’s to explode. The dress moves up from your hip as he slides it over your skin, stopping right under the mounds he’s still so curious about.

He needs to keep this balanced. Rush as much as might be appropriate, but not too much to make things embarrassing. This… the way he leans down again, opening your legs, erection grinding against your pussy and offering the bare minimum… this is good enough for now…

Or maybe not. Because merely a couple seconds later, you halt mid-moan, letting out breathy words that he struggles to understand until you repeat, “Is that… all you’ll be doing tonight?”

“Hmmm, you want more?”

“I— I don’t know.” Pause, a gulp when he presses his clothed length between your cunt. “Are you going to tell me your secrets if I say yes?”

His secrets?

You must be kidding. He has been an open book to you, chasing you around; if anything, he needs to unravel your mind.

But for that, he needs to play along. So he feigns the same mystery you emanate, teasing, “What do you wanna know?”

And you don’t hesitate. “Everything.”

…Hmm…

You’ve never seemed as interested as you are now. Never dove into his thoughts and the dim heart like now. If he agreed now, would you blurt out something specific? Questions that you formed when he wasn’t paying attention?

No idea. Maybe that’s something to worry about later. Pillowtalk. The morning after talk. Just anything… just not now.

He removes the obstacles currently standing between the two of you. The cushion standing against the back of the couch, constantly falling into your face. He throws it on the ground, so you don’t have to keep swatting it away.

Then, the dress covering your body. He gives a sign of wanting to proceed, and you play along, lifting yourself, chasing his lips as your outfit follows the cushion. And then, the phone right underneath the small of your back, having snuck there, undetected until you yelp, “Oh!”

“What?”

“Cold. Don’t know how it got there.”

He fishes out the device, watching it light up, a notification at the top that he can’t decode and that he doesn’t pay any mind to. Puts it on the coffee table. Then… last but not least… the uncertain atmosphere.

He says, “You want to know everything? Then make a list. I’ll tell you if I feel like it… deal?”

“You’re so…”

“You gotta make me. No other way out, baby.”

An answer lies on your tongue, ready to disrupt the moment. He knows because you look distracted all of a sudden, possibly still thinking about the same thing you did before, dissociating as he sat next to you, wine in hand.

It’s probably about work. Or about Taehyung — God, nobody at work but Jungkook would know, but you mention that guy all the time.

But tonight is not the night to think of others. So he shakes your upcoming inquiries away, giving you no time to think about it further as he, thirsty and impatient, picks you up and off the couch.

Right into his lap. Right onto his cock.

Still a layer between the two of you, watching you grind immediately. For a moment, you put him under your spell, urging him to stay right there and not move away until he’s shot buckets of cum into his boxers.

But…

But he’d rather do it in you, with you, because of truly you.

So he wastes no second as he executes his former plan, large hands sprawling over your ass before he stands with willpower and strength. He throws you a couple inches into the air, making you adjust, and then moves.

Away from the couch, stepping onto the clothes on the floor, careful not to stumble and hurt the two of you. The way to the bedroom seems endless, and you so naked… so… so his for the night. Like what, he still needs to wait those couple square metres?

Fuck, how…

No. It must be a primal instinct that hankers him to give up already, having made it halfway through the room and almost to his bedroom when he suddenly stops. Pinning you against a random free spot at the wall, right under a silent clock.

“What are you…?”

Your voice is trembling, for some reason so incredibly small. For the first time since you lay beneath him on the couch, he sees your eyes properly, and they flit back to the couch as if you’re looking where you just departed from — and then back to him.

“What are you looking for?” he whispers. Tantalisingly, he brings his fingers to your chin, pinching it lightly as he raises your head. “Hm? I’m here. Do you want to go back? Missing the couch? Wall might not be as comfortable, huh…”

“No… that’s not a problem. I’m just… surprised by the change.”

You do look surprised. A little cheekier again as your tone rises, your head falling to the side, lips smiling as if to distract him from something bigger. As if there’s anything bigger in existence right now than you.

“It was just sudden,” you conclude.

“Is that bad?”

“Not at all. I’m just curious.”

He doesn’t need to ask what about. He sees it in this expecting gaze of yours that you want to read and decrypt his next steps. And you can have them.

Because he lets you go, making you fall silently on your feet, kissing you once before he falls to his knees. You groan when he grabs your leg, placing it on his shoulder, restless when his lips charge for your open folds.

He offers you, “Curious, huh? No need,” before kissing your clit, adding another, “Just indulge in it… no need to use your pretty brain today,” and then attaching his mouth and tongue to your dripping pussy.

Digging his large nose into you, tickling your nub, he swirls his tongue around, slurping you up like his favourite drink. Holy fuck, you taste good. He could eat you up, down you in one like a shot. Stay right here all night.

You get ahold of a patch of his hair, but don’t pull — somehow, he wishes you would. Instead, you seem to focus on your body, trying not to fall, keeping it upright. You’re winding, your leg moving, and he soon wraps an arm around your thigh to keep you from stirring too much.

And with the other, he targets your cunt, mouth moving up to make space for the digits to easily, effortlessly slide into you. You gasp, just a bit louder when the metal touches your hot sex, calling his name — and for possibly the first time, he hears you curse, “Fuck. Fuck, I’m— I’m going to pass out.”

Oh my God.

If he could lick you to unconsciousness, he’d feel shocked and proud at once. He wants to see you become weightless, wants to catch you in his arms, and then bring you to his bedroom, still delirious, and fuck your brain out of you.

He wants you so bad. He wants to fuck you so fucking badly. His cock aches, godfuckingdamn.

As he rolls his tongue, lips kissing yours, moving his head left and right as he makes out with your pussy, he almost pulls all the way through. Nearly gives into your body language, nose moving over your clit, fingers pumping in and out, breathing into your pussy hotly.

But he has other plans. He wants to see your damn tears; wants you to unleash all your desperation. So, just when your sounds change, less pauses between them, high-pitched, heavy breathing, he stops.

Draws back, watching you press your ass into the wall, head suddenly hanging low. You whisper, “No…” as he looks up in satisfaction, waiting for you to say more.

You’re out of breath, exhaling through half gritted teeth, a palm on his chest as he rises again. You declare, “I’m going to blueball you, too.”

But the adrenaline has poured buckets of confidence over Jungkook already, and he’s drenched in it as much as in your scent, cocking an eyebrow as he challenges, “You can try.”

“I’m gonna suck your dick so fucking slow.”

“Do it,” he keeps the mask up, wondering how much of the effect you saw upon gracing him with such a provocative image, “let’s see if you make it this far. Might just fuck you into space before that, you know?”

He lets out an unsteady breath, a strand of your hair swaying upon impact. His hand taps at your thigh, testing whether you’ve closed your legs again; and as he realises that you haven’t, much to his pleasure, he palms your pussy, heel of his hand pressing against your clit.

“You’re trying to set me off, because you know you can, right?” he questions, for a split moment distracted by the teeth gnawing at your lower lip. “Smart of you. You are truly smart, babe… but you’re also mine tonight. So don’t play games.”

A slap lands on your vulnerable pussy, and he understands your frustration as you open your mouth, the lower lip previously captive rolling back into place. Soft and gorgeous.

No matter the fading distance, there’s still something inexplicable in the air, as if he can’t really separate a dream from reality. As if he needs evidence that this isn’t yet another figment of his imagination; the ones he’s awoken from several times, underwear threatening to burst.

The hand just torturing your cunt wanders up your body and settles around your neck, like a chain or a necklace or a motherfucking leash. He feels home here, just like this. With your fingers on his wrist, gulping under his touch.

Pinned firmly against the wall, he looks down to where you’re dripping and he’s standing tall, gripping the ever-twitching length that is begging for more. Begging for relief. He’s doing this to himself — because his body is burning up, as if scorched by sun flares.

He’s doing this to the both of you.

The kiss underneath your ear as he leans in. And the still harmless yet sinful touch between his tip and your folds. How he holds the shaft firmly, leading the head between your pussy lips, teasing until just an inch intrudes your awaiting hole.

He moans the moment you do, moving, fucking just the first of the tip into you; scrambling his own thoughts as he says, “God, I could just slide in… you’re so, so wet.”

“What… why say this if you won’t do it?”

Guess you’ve figured him out well enough. Guess that’s the cockiness you implied when you called him a fuckboy in that stupid museum. Or how you kept a safe distance — because thinking about it, maybe Jungkook could be someone to break somebody’s heart.

No. He knows he is. But…

He shakes the thought off his brain, returning to this very moment where you’re waiting for his answer, a heart made of steel. You won’t let him hurt you; you know better than that. You could dodge him easily.

Mentally, at least. Physically, you’re under his mercy.

So he uses this weakness, muttering under his breath, “I will, I will… but not here. We can do better than here.”

Wasn’t this just a pit stop after all? What he’s seeking is still waiting in his bedroom, soft sheets spread over the cold mattress, waiting for a body to warm it up. Or two.

Already hot and bothered, Jungkook lets you go entirely; and the next minute happens in a blur, as though he’s struggling with recognising his own apartment. Suddenly self-conscious about everything and nothing at once.

With you in his grip, he walks along the dark, small corridor; then past the paintings, through the door, into a well-managed, tidy bedroom until he’s sat your ass down. It happens within the tiniest moment — he could narrate how you got here but he can barely recall it.

Dick at the same height as your mouth, he wraps his hand around it. You don’t initiate anything of what you promised, looking into his eyes with a question; he knows you want to avenge yourself and provide the same vanity, but you’d rather skip to the best part.

He wants to, too.

So he doesn’t ram his cock into your mouth, hitting the farthest spot until you gag. Instead, he relishes the image mentally and quietly, fantasising about the warmth of your spit, about the tongue swirling around.

And then… then he goes a step further and imagines the even extended pleasure if he dug into your pussy now, maximising whatever your mouth could make him feel.

Are his thoughts too straight-forward? If he spelled them out like this, one by one, would you find him weird? Too eager? Obsessed?

Maybe he should slow down. Just a bit.

Which is why he holds his shaft closer to you, still surprised when you don’t open up, hints of the past confusion alternating with your confident, mysterious, teasing self. It’s weird to witness. But your eyes are still hazy at least. You don’t seem to want to stop.

God. He can’t figure it out. Not figuring out is agitating even in this moment.

But… good energies. Good energies. All the pent-up frustration needs to be morphed into sheer craze. He can do that.

“Spit on it,” he orders.

You only hum. Something in your gaze changes again, eyelids fluttering, as if awoken from trance. But you’re willing. Immediately mimicking him as you bring a thumb to a mole on the protruding veins. Tracing them, all the way back to his balls until you touch them just lightly, but enough for him to nearly lose his shit.

“Fuck, I said,” he reprimands, though delighted by the sudden rapture, “spit on it.”

You nod as if carrying out a task given by your manager; perhaps used to the last days and weeks when he’d command you around. Ask for another meeting, or for your opinion on a song, or just to keep him company to keep him productive.

Or, to keep you close to him. Lost in thoughts. Many thoughts. And even though none of them became a reality in that room, none of the equipment shoved aside to sit you on the desk, this… this right here is more than enough.

You suck in your cheeks, collecting spit, and when you lean forward… you make such a mess. Spitting onto the tip, a string still connecting your lips and his dick, leftover saliva dripping down your chin and then on your tits.

The view is… worth diamonds.

Do you even know?

“Okay,” he utters, no real direction in his mind, no real sentence to utter. “Okay.”

But you’re equipped with ideas, immediately getting onto the trail you left, spreading the spit over his cock, down to the base. The tip and the slit glisten, traces of precum mixing with your drool, but it’s not enough to cover his length all over.

So he mutters a mental, “More,” to himself, tapping your lips until you open, sticking two of his fingers in and pressing against your tongue. Lubricating his digits, he rolls them over your tongue, far enough to nearly make you gag until he draws back.

Watching you work on him rolls a wave of satisfaction over him. He’s proud, enduring like this. Because judging from the creature you are, as if jumped out of dark mythology, he truly expected to give up way earlier.

But he remains steadfast; eager to not explode until he’s filled you up first. Drawn out your own highs.

“Sweetheart, aren’t you a good one?” Jungkook praises, helping you out with whatever his fingers gathered in your mouth. Then, grabs your wrist, pushing you away, hovering above you with a, “Turn around.”

You gulp again. Then shift back on his bed, sighing as you feel the soft silk underneath your skin, kissing and hugging your body. The sight is gorgeous, with you fleeing to the back of the mattress, obliging so easily. Prey.

And…

“Holy fuck.”

Holy fuck, how you look when you finally get into position. Ass up, upper body down. And the arms over your head? What in the world.

Okay… okay…

Wait. You’re saying something.

His knees dig into the mattress, hand unconsciously pumping his cock — he doesn’t even know when he started — as he moves closer, over your body. Kisses your shoulder, bringing his ear close to hear before, “Huh? What’d you say?”

“I’m already so spent.”

“Ah… do you want to stop?”

“No… you made me feel spent. But you’re not done, are you?”

Pause. Bright smirk. Then, “Of course not. Does it feel like it?” Another kiss to your shoulder, wet this time. “Condom or not?”

“Oh.” Seems you hadn’t even thought about this yet. Kind of nice. “I’m… I use an IUD. Have you… slept with many people lately?”

No answer yet. He thinks. Thinks back to the several weeks since he met you. Should he say it? Would you back away if he did? Years ago, there’d be no debate about it — he wouldn’t have told you. Kept it to himself.

Perhaps there’s still a part of him that’d dodge your question, but he somehow feels like you’d see through him. Hear the insincerity.

Fuck, is that selfish? Maybe. Doesn’t he already know that he is? But he’s not bad; and people are selfish.

So a second later, he truthfully admits, “Once. Two or so weeks ago. Nothing special though, just dumb, drunk shit. Some girl from a club. And I tested after.”

As soon as the sentence finishes, he wonders if you deem yourself just another one of those. But… in all honesty. She was a one night stand whose sounds, name, dirty talk did nothing to him.

All he could imagine was you. Perhaps not out of loyalty, but surely out of curiosity.

He can’t fathom his thoughts into feelings yet; he still wouldn’t describe his attitude towards you as falling in love or anything. That’d be too far stretched. But he thought about it — that maybe he liked you too much.

Yet, his heart remained empty; but his body never did. He feels bad; and still, he won’t deny whatever his skin and mind whisper to him.

Other than that, he could probably declare with quite a firm certainty that you don’t feel any different about him. You can’t be.

So maybe this is good enough for now.

“But know what?” he says, voice lower, repeating his thoughts. “Could only imagine what it’d be like if it was you. This pussy,” strokes his cock along your cunt, “and this body,” touches the small of your back, “these thoughts got me going. And you’re so much better in reality.”

“Mmmh,” is all you utter, nearly hiding your face in the pillow before you say, “maybe… maybe we can still use a condom then.”

Shit. Expected it.

But okay. Okay.

Where are the condoms again… bedside table? No. He used the last one ages ago, before he knew you. He gets up; walks to the closet; somewhere near his socks, there must be a new pack. A moment to think.

For a second, he looks back at you. You’re still the same, only with the ass having dropped again, losing balance and energy. And maybe, you’re still drunk, too — probably, because even he still feels the world spin, careful not to close his eyes for too long.

Okay. One… no, two foils out. As he turns back to you, nearing you, his head is just a little calmer than a minute again, and he wonders… were all the thoughts his own? The past half an hour or however much passed, didn’t he spiral more and more?

Did you notice? He shakes his head. Who cares?

Not him, not right now. He keeps telling himself that with a goddess waiting in front of him on all fours, he probably doesn’t need to worry about anything unless there’s a reason to. You’ve been cooperative and the night has been successful, minus the strange gazes you keep throwing at him periodically.

“Alright, baby. Up you come,” he mumbles, bringing your ass back to his crotch. His hands are already trained and incredibly skilled; doing work on the condom doesn’t take him more than a couple seconds. “I should tell you now.”

You pause. Suck in some breath, as if expecting something in particular. You agree with an unmatched thirst for knowledge, “…Tell me.”

“I don’t tend to go easy. If you need me to be, you’ll have to tell me. ‘Kay?”

“I… I can take a lot more than you think.”

Fuck. He’ll wreck your shit. “Perfect. You’re honestly a good one, huh? Such a good girl for real, no— no, you’re the best.”

Is he just saying whatever now? Perhaps he should stop boring you and get to it. Right? Please, the goddamn, blood-filled tower down there is desperately imploring him to.

He collects spit like you did before, targeting your glinting pussy, one blob right onto it. Then, he brings his fingers back to where they love to be, distributing the filth between your folds. And then, two fingers into the tightening hole.

Right before moving north, between your ass cheeks, thumb rolling over your other clenching hole.

And you tense immediately, without saying a word, taking it quietly. Then… then he finally starts.

Brings the annoying rubber to your soaked pussy, poking for a second before he gets serious and eventually dips in. The free hand raises your ass some more, and he shifts forwards, your butt backwards, helping him get in further.

He hears the reaction. Hears the almost-screech in a second, nails biting into the pillow over your head. You hold onto it for dear life as he slowly bottoms out, your sporadic breathing and high-pitched moans mingling with his own bursts of lust.

Deep creases appear between his eyebrows, lips bitten sore, and once his waist has finally connected with your ass, he takes a deep, long inhale. Watches your face disappear deeper into the pillow, sounds muffled.

Enjoys it for a moment before he starts moving slowly. Out, in. Concentrating before he might spill too early. Beads of sweat shimmer on his forehead, dampening the hanging strands of hair. You feel good. Too fucking good—

He wants to go off right away. But… focus.

“How’s that?” he asks.

“Stop… stop talking.”

Oh. Bold. But a good sign, isn’t it? If you wanted him to stop, you’d say it. So he keeps going… dares just a little more, courageous, encouraged by your cooperation. Explores your ass and what lies between the cheeks more, groaning before he says, “You stop that.”

His hand reaches for your wrists, keeping you from tearing his pillow and leading your fingers to where his touched your ass before. You keep your touch there, unmoving until he says, “Keep them apart.”

And you seem to understand. His thumb returns to your unoccupied hole as his cock impales your pussy whole, still going at a tormenting pace. Thick and soaked, he’s splitting you in two; maybe that’s why the slow plunges are such a plague. Because both of you know there could be more.

Pulling your ass cheeks apart, you remain with your face in the sheets, arms trembling as he circles your hole again. He doesn’t know if you’re into this; doesn’t know if you’ll protest. So far, he’s been pretty obvious with his intentions, and he’s sure you must understand this one, too.

And you’re not fearful; if something bothered you, you wouldn’t hesitate to voice your displeasure. So he spits one more time, right onto his thumb, using the lubrication to carefully, curiously dip the tip of his thumb into your ass.

You yelp immediately; as your hole tightens around the little bit of his thumb, your pussy narrows around his cock, too, and he nearly loses it. Nearly drools onto your back as his mouth drops open, blinking rapidly for a second.

God, your body reacts with such intensity. Still, he makes sure, “Too much?”

And you, candidly, reply, “I don’t know. I… think so.”

“Okay. Then I’ll sto—”

“No. No, wait… I want to— I want to know what it’s like.”

Thought so. He knew that underneath all the chic charade, you crave just as much as he does. And if it’s him that you long for, then what even stands between him and the rocket shooting his ego to the sky?

This feels good. Really good… not just physically. You lift his spirits.

Ready with an exhale, he dares his thumb deeper, letting more of it disappear in you. Out of all the women he’s ever been with, not more than a handful has been willing to venture into this part of sexual desire. Most of them can’t stand the discomfort, and some of them don’t feel any particular way about it.

But you lay open to him in every way possible. An open book for once; easy to read, as if calculating how you wind, planning how to sound, guiding him fearlessly.

Soon, he’s adjusting his thrusts to your moans, and you’re adjusting your moans to his thrusts. Synchronised, the two of you groan and cry out together, and he makes sure to keep you filled to the brim, reducing the pauses between the shoves bit by bit.

Until…

“Hey,” he whispers, waiting for you to react, but as he pumps into you, slowly yet balls-deep, you don’t do anything much but scream into the pillow. So he just continues, “How much do you think you can take, baby?”

“I… I’m—”

You’re attempting your best, but you’re tongue-tied. With each push, he catapults your body forwards, but your mind is long lost in the stratosphere. With gritted teeth and a rising, heavily breathing, golden chest, he leans in close to you, hand snaking under you and around your neck as he retries, “So?”

“I don’t know,” you blurt, and as you raise your head and look back at him, he sees a sight to behold — mascara underneath your eyes, lipstick smeared, a quivering chin. He’s fucking you so good; he must be, because you soon add, “Just do an—and I’ll let you know.”

“Good idea. Very good idea.”

He’s fucking you good. But it’s not all he’s got; not all he’s wanted for days and weeks.

No. If he unleashed all he’s been fabricating in his mind, he’d drench your cheeks in tears. And now that you permitted him to, he might just go ahead, right?

Right.

Which is why the next steps come easy to him, naturally, as if you pressed a button he’s been waiting to smash. A big, red one, like the ones in games urging you to not touch or you’d lose. But by God, right now, he’s not losing.

If he looked into his reflection in the dark window, he’d see a winner through and through.

A fiery rage courses through his burning veins. A face contorting when he lets you go, only to move his fingers back, wrapping them around the back of your neck. Shoving you into the mattress, ramming his cock into you, once more keeping the familiar pace and then—

And then he closes his eyes. Matches an expression to your yelps. Drives into your deepest core and picks up speed until, all of a sudden, it turns jarring.

Jungkook doesn’t get enough. He doesn’t know if he ever will; damn the approaching end of this. There shouldn’t be one; he should be capable of ruining you forever. Maybe he will be.

For now, he directs his thoughts fully on how you feel and how you sound, uncaring about the jagged breathing that burns up his chest. Leaning forward, he attempts twice until he catches your ears, nibbling at your earlobe.

At first, he doesn’t know if you register the touch, given that he’s occupying you with far crazier sensations. But then you reach out a hand, panting into the pillow, grabbing a patch of his hair.

And he, fired up and insane, leans back, gripping your wrist, removing it from his mane and pinning it to your back instead. Your face moves to the side, not muffled by the pillow anymore, and you gasp for air before you beg, “Please, I’m about to—”

That’s all you get, because he soon interrupts with a cheeky, “You can hold on for a bit longer,” pausing on purpose. He wants to see you when you come. Wants to wipe more of your make up across your face. Wants to kiss the colour of your lipstick onto his own lips.

Letting your orgasm fade, he waits, just a couple seconds, allowing you to catch your breath until your eyebrows furrow. You blink repeatedly, then looking up into his eyes, and it’s all he needs to feel his patience dissipate again.

Jungkook gets into a new position, leaving one knee deep in the mattress while angling the other leg, planting its foot on the sheets. He keeps his cock from falling out, leading the tip and the shaft back in before he resumes to fuck you wound.

Your arm is still hostage to his grip, the nails of your other hand gripping the sheet for dear life. It’s gorgeous, the view from where Jungkook looks down at his meal. Crazy how you purr and whine when he leans in, touching your swollen clit, electrifying you. And he keeps looking at you.

At the upper body waving a white flag, too weak to keep yourself upright anymore. And then, the ass in the air staying firmly at its place, his dick aiding you, the flesh of your cheeks wobbling with each thrust, like an ocean wave. Whenever it collides with his hips, the slaps resound temptingly, and Jungkook soon mimics it by letting his hand fall hard on your ass.

You mewl, calling out his name twice, the second cry half uttered, half of the Jungkook omitted. And when you catch the tiniest of your breaths, still working with drying lungs, you say, “L-let me come, please—”

“Wait,” he says again, still sadistic, still masochistic, absolutely out of his mind before an idea lights up his mind. “This isn’t it yet.”

The finger working on your nub was an evil tactic, he’s got to admit. Perhaps he led you to believe something he’s not ready to give you yet, and once you seem to realise, you let out a sob.

And he’s positively delighted once he stops. Lowers his head to look at you. Sees the dark, smeared mascara on his pillow when he digs his fingers in your hair, pulling your head back as he says, “I know. You thought we were done, right? We’re not done, though.”

“Wha—”

He lets his body fall onto the mattress, right next to you, and pulls you in, back against his chest. Hand under your tits, pressing against them, moving them up and down before pinching your nipple once.

“I said,” he repeats, probably unnecessarily, because he doesn’t think you actually demand an answer, “I’m not done. Understand?”

And as expected, you don’t nod or answer. You only push your body further into his, and he reckons that’s a mighty sufficient implication already.

As you lay sideways with a breath as heavy as his, his exhales hot against your ear, you let out sounds reminiscent of marathon runners. You’re exhausted, sweaty, and so is he — but neither of you are finished, and he’d be damned if he permitted the night to end like this.

Diligently, he throws your quivering leg over his; your impish remarks have lessened since he took over, and in turn, his own insolent emotions are reigning supremely. He leads his submerged, rock-hard, twitching cock to your battered cunt, pushing in so easily he thinks he’s dreaming.

It’s like putting a key into its lock.

“Ahh, fuck.” It’s hard to fully bottom out in this position, but he can touch you so much better now. He lets his hands explore your bare body, fondling with your tits, kissing your ear and jaw. “Hold tight. You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart.”

It’s cruel, he knows; the gentle praises as he wreaks havoc down there. He crosses your wrists against your tummy, holding them tight, and you close to him. Fucks you dumb and stupid as you wail in his arms. Moves to your clit and gives it pleasant, gentle rubs, so opposite from the rest of his ministrations.

And the pressure builds. His balls, hard as steel, prepare to shoot their load into you, his cock impossibly stiff, but… but…

You haven’t come yet. And this position won’t do. Can’t do, won’t do, he needs to see you.

So he echoes, “Won’t do,” as he gets up again, keeping the previous position short lived. Doesn’t stay away for too long before he’s on his knees, pulling your legs apart, after the briefest interruptions deep inside again before he leans into you.

And then, everything happens crazy fast.

How he keeps you from wrapping your arms around him; instead, capturing your wrists once again, raising them next to your head. How he moves to kiss you for the first time after quite a while, intertwining your tongues, moaning hard as he feels his high approach.

The fast pace changes a little as he loses his mind and focus, one of the strokes stopping as he almost pulls out, and then plunges in again. Your fingers curl in, nails sharp enough to dig into the digits that hold you, and he cries out in delight, letting a breathy chuckle fall.

He says, “Alright, yeah. Next time… we’re tying you up. Love how you whine.” He lets one hand go, gripping your face again and you move your touch to his shoulder immediately, gasping. “You always p-play the mysterious girl, huh? But you’re so pathetic right now.”

The inhibitions are out the window. The overthinking, too. Whatever he thought might make you run away from him has long exited his mind, because he’s got you right here, under his control, nearing the end.

There’s no going back. No return to his yearning, because you’ve satisfied it so thoroughly.

Time to give it all back to you. One last time before he submerges himself in all his glorious egotism.

“There we go,” he says as he watches your expressions change. You open your mouth but don’t say anything. He doesn’t know what your orgasm feels like, but he knows you’re going through it. “Let it all out. Cream my cock, I fucking dare you.”

He’s saying whatever now, he knows. But he doesn’t have the capacity to think much as creases appear on your forehead and between your eyebrows, tongue mingling with his for a short moment when he goes in for another kiss, barely succeeding.

You’re trembling, lifting your hips as much as the weight above you allows, wanting more friction, more of a touch inside your pussy, on your clit, everywhere. And then, when you do come… when he brings the stars from the sky into your eyes…

Yours roll back into your head. Throwing it back, giving him access to your neck. Lips still apart, and he uses it to push a finger into your mouth, on top of your tongue. And fuck… how your pussy constricts. How it tightens so fucking much.

He’d be lying if he said it didn’t affect him.

So much so that his head spins; and as he feels himself getting dizzy, he buries his face in the pillow next to your head before moving it to kiss your shoulder. Barely looks at you anymore; doesn’t care, it’s his high now, he wants to fucking come, and that’s it.

Finally, finally he’s gotten to this point.

Will he hate himself for these thoughts later? Is this too over the top? He doesn’t know and he doesn’t care, doesn’t care.

His thoughts are occupied, alright, don’t need another string of questions to intervene. His attention remains resolutely on his movements, vigorous, rhythmic, your sounds perfectly matching each of his strokes.

And your hands, the poor little palms, unsure where to settle. This isn’t new; across this broad back of his, every girl’s touch wanders like this. Your nails scratch the small of his back, then up his spine, across the muscles of his shoulder blades.

The fact that you’re a goner as much as him, giving yourself to him is probably the last of reassurances he needs — as if any more were required. Because still panting into your skin, eyes shut tight, he works towards the peak of his sanity, exhausted but eager as he relishes the wet tightness of your pussy; surrounding him just right, still clenching, unclenching from your orgasm.

And then—

“Ohhh, fuck,” he whispers.

His voice is shaking uncontrollably; he barely recognises it. Which… must mean this is new, right? Experience be damned, apparently you spark off phenomena nobody has ever acquainted him with before.

And oh, how you make it worse once he finally emerges again, as if catching his breath after holding it underwater for too long. Your eyes are hooded as he gets on his knees over your body, caging your hips in between his legs. Gripping one of your tits, you nibble your lower lip for a second before letting out laboured breathing, nose flaring.

It’s all he needs. All that’s left when he rips off the condom and envelops his filthy cock with his veiny hand, stroking immediately and hard. Close to the end as he rushes to ask, “Where do you want it?”

You understand what he’s asking, and nod, back to yourself when you utter mysteriously, “Anywhere but inside…” Okay. No time to ask why not — but he wouldn’t have anyway. He obliges, giving his all, one more second left before you tell him just in time, “Here.”

Your palm rubs across your skin, moving over your tits and your stomach. So he’s quick to opt away from your face and redirect his aim to where you pointed, moaning out a couple last, broken vocals before he finally spills.

Milky white, multiple blotches scattered over your skin, like a modern art painting. He’d rather draw these all day than be stuck with you in a museum restaurant, staring from afar, wishing he could reach out under the goddamn public table.

Going until he’s empty, he senses a relief unknown to him thus far, mind suddenly vacant. Once again, the ocean; he feels like the ocean. Like the water as it stills and calms after a thunderous storm. You lifted the waves of his sea high above and have now turned him into a lazy, peaceful lake.

God, he should fuck you more often; you make him a poet.

Okay. Okay, where was he?

When did he unfocus? Dizzy all of a sudden. He puffs out a breath. Then takes another look at you. Watches as you spread the sticky substance over your mounds, touching your nipple, so indecently messy.

The smirk is unintentional but inevitable, reaching far as he shakes his head at you. You smile back wordlessly, and he lets his fingertip run over his cum, too, bringing it to your lips as he asks, “Taste?”

You don’t answer. Thinking for the barest second before you scoff, stretching out your tongue before he puts the finger on it; closing your eyes, sucking it clean. He groans at the feeling; luckily, he’ll be immobile for the foreseeable future, or he’d bend you over again.

“Okay. That should be enough for now,” he breathes, letting himself fall next to you. “I promise I’m a lot more energised on other days. But…” He turns towards you, pinching your chin, bringing your face close. “God, did you take me out there. I’m beat.”

He doesn’t kiss you; only drops back, still filling his lungs with new oxygen. Pity — he still wants you, but his muscles are aching. Eyes shutting.

Then opening again when he hears you laugh, right before you say, “You don’t need to prove your endurance to me. I’ve got a pretty good idea of it now. Besides— let’s be honest. I didn’t do much.”

“Oh, you did more than enough, sweetheart,” Jungkook retorts with a snicker, giving his eyes some relief. He sighs, and then adds, “Your existence did it for me already. Wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”

He shoves his arm under his head, the other untidily covering the two of you with the blanket; whatever. He’ll wash it tomorrow. For now, the two of you should probably get some rest. Although—

Did you say you wanted to stay? He didn’t catch it if you did. Perhaps he’s also just inattentive; suddenly remembers that he still has a long way to go socially, remembering that permission is courtesy. Selfish, selfish, selfish.

“Uhm,” he starts; this is awkward. He doesn’t do this often — not many stay overnight anyway. Strangely, he didn’t question it with you; maybe because he wants you to. “Do you want me to bring you home?”

“In all honesty, I… I don’t think you can drive tonight. We’re both not sober yet, so I’ll just leave in the morning. Need to be in the office by noon.”

“Ah? Why?”

“Meeting with Tae. I forgot that he wanted to go through a few organisational things for the upcoming concert.”

Concert preparations. Organisational things. The company.

Jungkook forgot about it all. Responsibilities still exist. Of course, he needs to be in the office tomorrow afternoon, too. This is his dream, his goal, everybody’s eyes on him, the biggest source of entertainment in the country.

Feels so stupid, forgetting you’ll leave at some point. That he can’t flip you over again all day tomorrow, that you’ll be occupied somewhere else, with someone else. Jungkook grits his teeth.

“You wanna come over again tomorrow night?” he asks.

And all of a sudden, despite the last hour, you seem lost in thoughts again. Probably tired, but he can’t help but overthink. You don’t answer immediately, keeping him on the edge, and as he thinks you’ve fallen asleep, he looks over, seeing your eyes open when you say, “Don’t know. Might have a couple things to tend to.”

Ah… okay. Sure.

Where’s your mind right now, he wonders?

Maybe circling around work. Maybe your urge to go is as little as his? All these things, they don’t sound too delightful right now, do they?

Concert preparations. Organisational things. The company. Tae.

When did you start using his nickname like this? Weird. Didn’t know the two of you were so close. Then again, does it matter? No. He shakes his head.

Shakes it slowly, making sure you don’t notice, sighing again before he breaks into a smile. It’s okay. You’re next to him. Not next to Taehyung. His friend. You’re covered in him. So he doesn’t let another’s name fog his brain, instead seeking peace and succeeding until—

“Don’t worry, another time,” you say, following up with a goosebump-inducing, “I’ll stick around until my feet tingle.”

Somewhere… at some point in his life… under probably not the best circumstances—

Wait.

THE FIC ISN'T OVER YET!! PLS READ 👇🏼

as always, tumblr hates content creators and has a 1k block limit. which is why you can read the rest of the story in this reblog hehe we're almost at the end <3

#jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fic #jungkook imagine #jungkook

3K notes · View notes