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alstroemeriadissonance · 3 years ago

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NXX as Incubi: Vyn - Look at Me, Seek Me, Desire Me, Love Only Me (NSFW)

A NXX series where each LI deals with work stress and/or hang up towards Rosa enough to trigger sexual dreams, where they become incubi who haunt her dreams.

WARNING: Coercion, possible dubcon, and the usual from our favorite sussy shrink.

A polite knock resounded by the door of Dr. Vyn Richter’s office.

“Come in.” The doctor did not bother looking up from his documents as he called out to the visitor. “The door is not locked.”

It was his assistant. “Here’s your lunch, as you have requested,” the assistant said as he placed the paper bag containing takeaway food right by the edge of the psychiatrist’s executive desk, then carefully arranged the contents onto a waiting tray: a carton of a simple chicken-and-mushroom pie, a cold can of iced coffee, plastic cutlery, and a small container filled with a slice of strawberry chiffon cake.

Vyn regarded him with a smile and a quick, yet friendly nod. “Thank you. Have you taken your lunch yet? You may go take your break early; we should take advantage of the downtimes in our schedule.”

“Will do, thanks Doctor.” The assistant was about to walk towards the door, when he stopped mid-stride as if suddenly remembering something. “By the way, I seem to have seen Miss Rosa when I passed by the hospital earlier, um…”

“You did?” Vyn’s hand was about to reach for his tray, only to freeze when he heard ‘Rosa’ and ‘hospital’ in a single sentence. “Was she well?” His voice did not betray the sudden influx of anxiety that surged into his guts–only Rosa could cause such agitation in him.

“Ah…” The assistant seemed to have second thoughts on telling Vyn the full details. “She was brought in through the emergency bay–Doctor?”

Vyn had heard enough, pushing himself off his executive chair. “Emergency bay, you said? Is it the one in the hospital’s main building?” He straightened the lapels of his doctor’s coat and started to make his way out of the office.

“Yes. Um, what should I tell anyone walking in? Should I make them wait?”

“No need, tell them that I have an emergency,” Vyn said as he fished out his car keys from a hidden compartment near the door. “If you’re done with your tasks go ahead and close up early.”

===

“I did not expect Rosa’s attending doctor would be replaced so quickly, Richter,” a cold, guarded voice said as soon as Vyn walked into Rosa’s private room.

Wing.

Vyn ignored the barb. “I assume you have brought Rosa in?” he asked, his own voice clipped; making his way towards the woman he cared for so much, slumbering on the hospital cot.

“Yes.”

Vyn narrowed his eyes. He already had a good idea of what happened to his beloved rose, if things were to be based on the two lawyers’ penchant for overwork. “What happened?”

“She fainted on the way to our client,” Artem said as he begrudgingly stepped aside to allow the de facto NXX physician to do a cursory check on her vitals. “Thankfully we were still in my car, so I drove her immediately here.”

Vyn stamped out the urge to deck Artem, especially with how cavalier he was about Rosa fainting. Instead, he seated himself on a stool right beside Rosa’s cot, gently taking her wrist and placing two fingertips on her radial artery to check her heart rate.

Arrhythmia. This is not good. He tsk-ed loudly, and threw a scathing look at Artem. “How many times should I have to tell you–no, berate you–not to overwork your junior?”

Artem was about to dish out his own retort when Rosa moved in her cot, opening her eyes a crack. “Mm…Mr. Wing? Dr. Rich…ter?” her voice came faint as she slowly stirred to wakefulness.

“Rosa?”

“Rosa, dear, how do you feel?” Vyn cradled her hand between both of his, and peered into her face for any outward signs of discomfort.

She blinked at the sight of Vyn by her bedside. “Dr. Richter…” she mumbled. “I–I’m sorry for causing you trouble. You must be very busy. I–”

“Hush, Rosa, nothing is more important than your welfare at the moment,” Vyn said, voice soothing, talking as if there were no one else in the room with them. “How do you feel?” He repeated his question.

“...I’m sorry, Dr. Richter…you must have patients waiting for you at your research center,” Rosa looked at him with a pained look in her eye, as if feeling guilty for redirecting his much-sought out attention away from those who truly deserved them–like his own patients–selfishly towards her. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

Vyn shook his head. There goes her misplaced feeling of responsibility, once again. “There is nothing–”

“Richter, I will be here to tend to Rosa’s needs,” Artem cut in, wedging into the opening that Rosa had inadvertently set for him. “And she is right, your patients should not be made to wait, especially if they have traveled so far just to see you.” He cleared his throat. “As her boss, I will be responsible for her welfare. So go, Richter. You are not required to be here.”

Rosa gave him a small smile. “Thanks for the visit, Dr. Richter. I’ll let you know when I’m out of the hospital.”

So adamant to get rid of my presence. Very well.

“Ah. I see. I trust that everything will be fine, then,” Vyn said most amiably, yet the smile did not reach his eyes. “Should you change your mind, Rosa, I am but a phone call or a message away.”

He then quickly drops his smile and gives Artem a silent, yet curt nod.

Well, if I am not needed, then. Vyn turns to make his way out of the private room.

I suppose I should go.

No one took notice on how Vyn absent-mindedly clutched at his heart as he walked all the way to his car.

===

Rosa was eventually allowed to go home as night fell.

Remembering her promise to her close friend, Dr. Richter, she sent him a quick message that she was already discharged and feeling better, also thanking him for his visit despite his packed schedule.

However she never got a single reply, which was a first from her usually-eager texting mate. Nary a word came from Dr. Richter for the entire time that she waited; Rosa kept her phone beside her at all times, yearning for even just a single acknowledgement from the man whose presence and attention she appreciated dearly, yet too shy to demand more of.

And even when she was starting to fall asleep, there was still no reply. Rosa was left wondering, as she closed her eyes off into slumber, if she said anything that offended him…

===

Vyn did not go back to his office after he was–in his own perspective–unceremoniously tossed out of Rosa’s hospital room, and her presence; not letting him put in a word in edgewise that no, he had no appointments on that day, and even if there were any, nothing was more important to him than seeing Rosa safe and out of danger.

I was not needed. She made her choice clear. She chose the one who would drive her to the brink of overwork, in the guise of building her up, over me, who would bring her nothing but guidance in the midst of any storm, and solace…

Instead, he went straight home, and shut himself up in his study, mulling if he ever went wrong in some way or another. He had danced around Rosa for so, so long, ever since he fell head over heels for her; played the part of her close friend, always available when she needed him…

And yet…

As heartbroken as he was, Vyn was resolute that he will respect her decision, that he will continue watching out for her from afar, yet never get in the way of her own chosen path.

Ah, this way, I can fully focus on what truly needs to be done…

Yet as he sank into the sofa, his wine glass falling from his hands full with the last remnants of his third wine bottle for the night–the rich vermillion liquid spilling all over the floor in the midst of the shattered crystal glass–all he ever felt was misgiving, even as he told himself, over and over and over and over, that Rosa cherishes her free will and nobody, not even he himself, should ever, ever take away her agency.

Ah, my Rosa. Rosa.

Why do you not look at me?

Look at me.

Reach out to me.

Want me.

Desire me.

Need me.

===

The world around me is creaking. Swaying.

That is the only way I can describe it. When I open my eyes, everything is swaying, and a loud, screeching sound of ropes creaking can be heard at regular intervals.

It is as if…

A terrifying memory rises to my mind. When was the last time I experienced something like this? The creaking. Swaying. The feeling of unsteady footing, that I may fall to my demise should I step the wrong way…

Right. It was on that suspension bridge from our treasure hunting trip way back. I say this casually to myself, as if my heart isn’t thudding violently against my ribcage, totally terrified.

Everything is swinging violently; the bridge of rotting wood and hemp rope tilting to such a steep angle that I am literally being tossed from one edge to the opposite edge of the bridge, about to fall off into the murky abyss below.

And all the while the wind is blowing strongly, as if the entire world is intent on throwing me off the bridge.

Then I realize–I am dreaming. Yes, I am dreaming. My memories of what happened before I fell to slumber are all intact. I remember falling sick earlier this morning, I remember Dr. Richter’s visit. I remember texting him and feeling sorry for myself for not getting any replies from him, wondering if he was too busy…

A sound of something snapping resounds from afar, and all of a sudden the bridge tilts permanently to one side, as if one of the main supporting ropes has been cut off.

Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit

Desperate, my fingers dig into the rotting wood, not yet feeling the splinters that cut the sides of my fingertips, drawing blood. I can’t fall. I refuse to look down.

Even if this is a dream, this is too lucid. I must not fall!

Then as if on reflex, my mouth–no, my entire body–calls out one name, the very same name that I shouted out the last time on Nosta…

“VYN!!!”

Then everything freezes. Suspended. As if this entire scenario has a remote control and someone has pressed on the Pause button.

Still, my heart doesn’t stop beating violently. If ever, the eeriness coupled with how my head is lucid–processing this entire…dream scenario as if this were real–unnerves me so much that my distress only intensifies, exponentially.

I quickly scramble to the middle of rotted wooden planks, taking care to keep a fair distance between both edges of the bridge.

What if I die in this dream?!

“Vyn…” I whisper, his name coming out of my lips strangled and needy. “...help…”

Then footsteps.

A soft laughter can be heard from a short distance.

That voice…

My head snaps to face the direction the laughter is coming from.

Everything beyond a few feet away from me is hazy, so all I can see at the moment is his silhouette, yet his gentle, honeyed voice is unmistakable.

And when his figure breaks through the fog, all I can do is gasp.

It is Vyn. Yet not, at the same time.

Whoever this man is, he possesses the same features: silver hair, golden eyes, the very same build, and height…

Yet the way he easily lopes across the tilting bridge is more akin to a predatory beast, more than his usual elegant movement. And his clothing: all black and form fitting, definitely showing off his lithe, muscular figure even more than what he wore during his polo matches. It isn’t Vyn’s style, and from what I know of him, he probably will not be caught dead wearing something like this, especially with the way his black shirt is unbuttoned halfway.

Something swings behind his legs, but I can’t quite make out what it is. Not that it’s important in the face of what I’m currently experiencing.

“Ah. It makes sense now. Everything makes sense now,” he says, a grin blooming on his face. “Hello, Rosa, good evening.”

“V-Vyn…?”

“Why yes,” he makes a small bow. “The one and only.” Then he drops his smile, leaving an empty, poker-faced expression as he said, “So this time, you finally call out for me. Me.”

“Yes. It’s…” I take a deep breath, a little of relief, yet I cannot help but feel guarded around this man who appears to be Vyn, but also a little bit…off, at the same time. “It’s like that one time, in Nosta.”

“Yes, I am aware,” he says, face still devoid of that usual warmth that I see in him. “I designed it to be so.”

“...what?”

“Forgive me for being a little more demonstrative than usual, Rosa,” Vyn said as he snapped his fingers.

Then everything starts up again. The swaying. The creaking. The strong winds. The imminent danger. I once again cling to the wood that almost falls apart at my desperate grip. “Vyn!” I cry out. “Help–”

Yet ‘Vyn’ once again snaps his fingers, and the bridge once again tilts even more dangerously steeper than ever. This time.

“Aaaaaah!” I scream aloud, desperate to never, ever give in to the urge to look down and fall…

I am sure that should my hands–now bleeding, the splinters of the rotten wood piercing my fingers–let go, I will most definitely, definitely fall.

Probably to my death. Or whatever passes as death in this dream.

Yet Vyn just sits there, as if the gravity in this particular place does not work the same way it does on everything else, including me. He squats on a loose wooden plank, watching me with an impassive gaze, unaffected by whatever is happening around us.

Then he smiles, wanly. “Why are you so afraid?” he asks, his voice carrying over easily over the loud gale. “As always, you have the freedom to choose what to do, Rosa, dearest.” He then turns toward me to fully face me in conversation, and it is then that I realize–despite the chaos of the moment–that his gold eyes are glowing, almost preternaturally, and that there are some sort of protrusions on his head, as if they were…horns?

Who is this man?

“What choices?” I ask, desperate to distract myself. This is a dream. This is a dream. You’re not in any real danger…

“You should be the one to determine which choices you can make,” he begins, “Otherwise, they are not your choices at all. But,” he gives me an amused smile, “I can nudge you along, I suppose. So, your choices are…”

He then walks over to me, casually, unaffected by everything else around him. He reaches out to my desperately clinging hand as if to pull me out of danger, but no, he only caresses the back of my hand with teasing fingertips, as if I wasn’t holding onto rotting wood for dear life. “...To let go. Will you fly? Or,” he then smirks at me. “...will you fall?”

Then he looks at me with a somewhat unnatural facsimile of Dr. Richter’s usual gentle smile.

“But you can always, always, call for me.” His smile widens. “And I will come to your rescue. That is the third, and last, choice.

“Call me. Need me. Seek me out. Reach out to me. Only me.”

Hie once again caresses the back of my hand. His hand is there, ready to pull me out of danger, yet not moving to help me, not until I make my choice.

I’m getting tired, and my fingers are starting to tremble. The choice is painfully obvious. “V-Vyn,” I breathe out. “Please…please help me.”

And he smiles. A sincere one, this time. I think. “Ah, I am glad to hear you finally say that.”

Another snapping of his fingers, and everything stops. He bends over to pull me into his waiting arms, holding me close as he would a lover.

With one hand he inspects my bloodied, wounded fingertips, pierced through with splintered wood at certain points. “Ah. Poor, poor, Rosa,” he whispers, then with a small, chaste kiss from his lips the wounds, the splinters all disappear, and my fingers are once again intact. “Do you feel better now?”

I nod, silently.

Satisfied, he pulls me in closer, cradling my head close to his bare chest.

His skin feels cold, but I remember him telling me that he always ran at a temperature lower than most other people, and I wonder if he meant he was this cold.

“Huh. So that act is also required…” Vyn murmurs to himself, seemingly lost in thought. “Strange, how this world works…” Then he turns his attention fully towards me. “Rosa, I do apologize but, it seems as if this world is requiring me, or us to do something before I am to be released to my waking world.”

I blink at him. “What do you mean?”

“I have been here for a long, long time even before you arrived, my dearest,” Vyn says as he idly traces the outline of my face with a fingertip. “Trying to learn the rules of how this place operates. And,” with the same finger he tips my chin upward so I face him. “I believe I have a good grasp of things now: time, space, how to mold the environment to my specifications…I can even dilate time, if I so wish…” An almost manic glint can now be seen in his eyes. Then he cups my face in his hands. “But never mind all that. What is important is that you are here. The most…” his voice drops a few octaves, “important entity…the one whose existence this place revolves around…”

He bends over to kiss me full on the mouth. His breathing comes in urgent huffs, tongue tracing my lips before slipping between my lips. “Rosa,” he whispers my name repeatedly in between wet kisses. “Look at me. Look at me only.” He wraps his arms around my back, pulling me impossibly close to him.

I look up at him, and when his confident, almost arrogant gaze meets my unsure own I am made sure that this is a Vyn–Dr. Richter–who I have not seen before. He never once looked at me with such a cold, almost condescending stare, like he does right now.

I'm not even sure if I've truly known him, if he does indeed possess this facet to him.

Then he says something that unnerves me even more.

“It is a good thing that you are nothing but a phantom summoned from my subconscious, a facsimile of my Rosa, borne out of my most cherished memories.” He once again bends over a little, this time to lick the side of my neck. “I can do things with you, things that I cannot hope to do with her,” he says, wistfully.

No. You’re wrong. I’m right here, Vyn.

“Vyn, I–” I try to tell him, “I am Rosa. I…”

“Shush, little poppet,” Vyn cuts me off, then shuts me up once again with tongue in my mouth. “I do not need compassion from a mere shade of my memories,” he murmurs lazily as he pulls away from the kiss.

Then he seems to notice how much his words disturb me, for he adds, “Fret not. I shall not harm someone who shares her face.”

His hands slide down to cup my ass.

“I did say I will do to you things I want to do with her…” his voice trails off, tinged with a little melancholy. “Ah, but the way you called out for me earlier was so delicious. So…”

Another snap of his fingers.

The suspension bridge once again swings, but this time not too strongly. The bridge’s alignment has also been corrected, more like a proper bridge this time, with all supporting cords intact.

The swaying is just enough to remind me that I am not yet on terra firma. That the footing is still unstable, and should I attempt to traverse the bridge I must hold on to something stable at all times.

And this time, that stable something is this strange Vyn.

“Come, Rosa,” he steps back, then beckons me to follow him. “Will you not indulge me with a dance?”

A dance, on this rickety bridge? “Ah–I don’t think I can…?!” I try to follow him, but the very moment I step forward the worst thing happens: my foot accidentally steps in the gap between two planks, and I lose my balance; automatically my arms reach out to Vyn, desperate not to fall…

…and his hands, once again, effortlessly catch me before my entire leg falls through the gap. “Easy does it,” he murmurs as he holds my trembling form–overcome with shock–close to him. “Aaah. Your trembling, it is so delicious…”

“So, um. Y-yeah…” I gulp nervously, my words coming out in a stutter. “I d-don’t think we can dance, not with this…”

“But why? Do you not trust me, Rosa?” he asks quite innocently. “Have I ever, ever failed you, whenever you call me, reach out to me for help?” His hands then assume the leader hold in a waltz: his right hand supporting my back, left hand clasping my right. “Come, let us dance.”

What happens next is a blur: both of us spin in a strange attempt at a Viennese Waltz, the dance that we have both performed sometime last year. Yet our dance tonight is punctuated by my stumbling over loose planks of wood, from which Vyn would easily catch me without missing a beat, and when I almost fall off the edge he merely gathers me into his arms into a dip.

All the while Vyn laughs. “Yes, yes, reach out for me, beg me to catch you whenever you fall,” he leers down at me. “I am all you need. I am everything you need.” His lips curve into a smile. “Yes…”

“Vyn, you’re scaring me.” My words still come out shaky.

And yes, he does scare me. Looking at him, listening to this Vyn holding me right now in his arms, dragging me around in some sort of co-dependent waltz has me feeling like I am looking at the Vyn Richter I know, only through a broken, warped glass that grossly distorts his image.

Dr. Vyn Richter has always, always made it known that he is always available to help me whenever I need him; and that he wants me to seek him out for help first before anyone else.

Yet rarely could I muster the courage to just dial the illustrious, famous Dr. Vyn Richter’s number, for things as menial as my day-to-day worries.

Are these his inner thoughts, somehow? His misgivings?

“Oh, am I scaring you now? Well then, I suppose we can stop. I suppose I am getting bored; or rather, it disturbs me that you act so much like the real Rosa of my waking world.” He clicks his tongue, no doubt ticked off. “I cannot bring myself to act out my deepest, darkest desires with you…”

He then lets me go, leaving me to deal with the shaking of the suspension bridge on my own.

Oh, for god’s sake. “But I am, Vyn.” I try to tell him, once more. “I’m Rosa. You may not believe it, but I am. Alright?”

He clearly does not pay attention, and instead asks me, “Do you want to know what my dark desires are, Rosa of my dreams?”

“No. I want to know, though,” I answer, yet a sinking feeling pools in my stomach, fearing his answer. The feeling of dread is so palpable that it rivals my apprehension of the constant unsteady footing of the suspension bridge, threatening to drop me into the abyss down below at any given moment.

Vyn then once again holds me. “Since you asked so sweetly, I suppose I shall tell you,” he says, looking at me in a way that I have never, ever since on Vyn before. It is a look that I can only describe as lecherous. “I want to make love to you. Over, and over. I want to hear your sweet voice calling out for me, telling me that I am yours, as your body craves only my touch, the same way mine does yours.” He licks his lips. “I want you to seek me only. Desire me only. Love only me.”

He says all these as he devours me with his eyes.

I merely stare at him, digesting everything that he just said.

Oh.

Then I gather enough pluck to ask, “So, if we do that, will that make things better for you?”

“It would release me from this purgatory of my own making,” comes his simple answer. He then gives me a once over with his unnatural golden eyes, lips once again curling into a smile. “Why, are you perhaps…offering yourself to me?”

“Well, this is incredibly lucid but,” I take a deep breath. Here goes. “This is still only a dream. Might as well do it?”

His gaze at me now turns unreadable, as if he is looking at me while the cogs in his unfathomable mind work overtime. “Are you sure?”

I nod, resolute. “Just…be gentle, I suppose.”

“Heh. Do you think I will care if a mere dream phantom like yourself gets hurt?” comes his cryptic question, as he closely observes my face for a certain reaction.

That is an easy question. “I think, Vyn, the correct question is, are you going to let yourself hurt me, someone who bears Rosa's image?” And I quickly follow up with, "Since you won't believe I am Rosa."

I cross my arms as I return his gaze, trying to put on airs of someone confident and competent.

He blinks at this wordlessly for a few moments, then he lets out a sharp laugh. “You, my little pet, have caught me. That is the best answer, and one that I can never, ever expect from something conjured from my memories. Fine. I suppose I shall take your word for it.”

This time, I reach out to him. “Well, I suppose I can tell you…I always had a crush on you, Vyn.” As he gathers me in his arms I stand on tiptoe to press my lips against his in a soft kiss. “I wish I could tell you that. You in the waking world, that is. But I really don’t think I deserve you. You deserve someone more capable, more beautiful than I am.”

Somehow I find myself pouring out my feelings to this strange, distorted Vyn Richter, all clad in form-fitting black, sporting dark horns on his moonlight-silver head; the man whose hands are now roaming my body. "I really wanted to spend more time with you. You've taught me so many things, and you've helped me so many times I couldn't even keep count anymore, not even to keep track on how much I owe you." I take a deep breath. "Whenever I'm in a bind, it's your name that comes up, first and foremost."

Vyn does not say or do anything; yet I could feel the hands roaming my lower back press me closer to him just a little bit.

"Maybe...maybe I'll try to tell you about it when I wake up. Not that you're the same Dr. Richter that I know." I give him a tight-lipped grin. "Just telling you."

Then I ask him the question that’s been lingering on my mind all this time. “Why a suspension bridge?”

“You already know the answer to that, poppet, if you have been paying attention to the classes you have audited,” his hands roam my sides, massaging my breasts with his full palms as we still stand right in the middle of the now gently-swaying bridge. “And did you not borrow a book to learn more about the topic?”

It is at that moment that I realize that I am now fully naked. “So…are you telling me you put me on this bridge so that I seek you out, that I would want you, even if the resulting feelings are temporary?”

“Yes,” he nips at my ear, his hot breath fanning the side of my face. “I so badly wanted to hear you call out my name. Seeking my help, above everyone else's,” His lips linger on the skin of my neck, fingertips sliding down my abdomen. “After that time when you tossed me out of your hospital room, choosing Artem’s companionship over mine…”

I freeze. “Wait. What did you say…?”

“You chose Artem over me.” His fingertips slide further below, the pads of his fingers now rubbing my clit. I sigh at the delicious contact, and I snake my arms around his neck.

I hook a leg around his waist to give him better access to my gradually moistening cunt.

“It devastated me. I thought you never needed me." A frown briefly crosses his face, and disappears just as quickly; the only sounds to be heard within the next few moments are my sighs as he starts to insert two fingers inside me. Vyn's lips flutter over one of my shoulders, his breath tickling my skin and it all feels so pleasant until he bites the tender junction between my shoulder and neck, worrying my soft flesh with his teeth.

Sharp intake of breath through my lips. "Vyn–ah...it...it hurts!" I cry out. "Stop it..." Yet at the same time I am also weak-kneed with how his fingers are fucking me with a steady, deliberately slow rhythm that draws out sighs of pleasure from me.

Vyn's teeth eventually let go; his tongue lapping at the marks they have left on my skin. "Not as much as how you hurt me when you so callously turned me away. Not even by a fraction."

Was he that offended when I suggested that he go back to tend to his patients? "I...I didn't want to waste your time, Vyn–hahh–"

His fingers start to plunge into my flesh deeper, harder. "My time is mine alone, to do with howsoever I wish; only I alone can decide if something is a waste of my time or not, poppet," Vyn hisses as the movements of his fingers pick up speed. "Do not decide for me. Do not dare."

My moans grow louder, and seem to reverberate and echo against invisible walls. How strange, comes my thought as the searing erotic sensations start to flood my pussy. "Vyn, I'm," I squint my eyes, trying my hardest to gather enough of my wits to produce a single, coherent thought about his apparent misgiving. Yet my words fail me, and instead of me saying something to ease his dissatisfaction the only sounds that come out of me are things like "Don't stop," and "Harder, please."

"Heh." Vyn removes his fingers–to my great disappointment–and takes a few moments to slip his digits wet with my slick into his mouth, sucking them clean. "But I do not want to spend my time with you here talking about regrets long past. Tell me, pet, what does this suspension bridge do?“ He suddenly changes the topic of discussion, on a whim.

He then pushes me to the edge of the suspension bridge, pressing me against the now-intact railing made out of old hemp rope, making me face the black abyss beyond: There was nothing there but black, and even darker black the farther down you look. A total darkness. Not even a maelstrom loomed beyond. Just an inky black whose true nature escapes me.

I feel him rub something hard against my naked ass: his stiff cock. Judging by the feel of bare skin against mine he, too, has already shed his clothes at some point. “Well, poppet? What does this suspension bridge do?” His fast, shallow breaths betray his excitement as he reaches around to knead my breasts. “Humor me on this.”

I let out a ragged sigh as I press my body more against his hands, now tweaking my nipples, winding that telltale tension of arousal between my legs even more. Yes, More. I want to feel more of this. The stuff of my wet dreams around Dr. Richter. Things that I can never tell him. “Makes Point B accessible from Point A, otherwise–hnnhh–inaccessible without? Is that the answer–hahh god please more–that you’re looking for?” I ask him as I slightly twist to meet his devouring lips over my shoulders, tongues sliding against each other’s in an urgent, torrid kiss.

“Hahaha. Wrong, my pet,” he hisses as his hands grab me by the waist and lifts me just a little above the hemp rope railing. “I was asking not about suspension bridges in general, but this particular bridge.” He has me cling onto the ropes as I almost dangerously dangle over the edge of the bridge. “This suspension bridge serves to preserve you from the dark abyss inside me. Things I would rather not have anyone but me deal with.”

Oh goddamn. My slight acrophobia gets triggered, and there’s nothing keeping me from just dropping off the edge and into the abyss except for Vyn’s strong arms now holding me back from falling.

And somehow, the feeling…excites me. It is an inexplicable sensation, something certainly baffling, but the way my clit is now so sensitive I feel like I may come in only a few flicks is undeniable. Shit. I gulp nervously; I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the darkness below as the dark lover behind me now rubs the tip of his cock by the drenched entrance of my sex.

“Yet this suspension bridge is almost falling–ah!--apart,” I note as he starts to drive his cock inside me, in maddeningly slow thrusts. My hands now desperately cling to the ropes that separate me from a certain fate. I don’t remember sex being this good, I tell myself as I relish the sweet friction of his cock against my hot, inner walls.

“Yes, because I am at my wit’s end, my pet,” Vyn huffs, the speed and strength of his fucking picking up. “I am just about done. Just about.”

Something flicks at my clit, which–in the haze of our rutting–I find strange. Both of Vyn’s hands are on my waist, holding me in place as he rails into me. Then what…?

I press my thighs together, trying to get a feel of it. It was something thin, like a cord, tipped with something that feels flat, like a thicker leaf. “What the–?”

Vyn’s breathy, low laugh fills my ears. “Oh, that?” Whatever is flicking at my clit now slithers away from my inner thighs, and loosely coil around my neck. “When I came to this purgatory I found myself sporting this tail,” It then uncoils, and presents itself in front of my face for a cursory glance.

Said tail is cord-like thin, tipped with something arrow-shaped that feels leathery. It glistens with moisture; no doubt wet with my slick.

“A classic depiction of a devil’s tail. I suppose I am nothing but evil, deep inside.” Another bout of low, seductive laughter. “At the very least, it is prehensile.”

The tail then slithers back down between my thighs, once again slowly teasing my clit into an imminent climax.

“Are you not excited?” Vyn breathes heavily now, and he now starts to ram into me over and over, so strongly that I am pushed hard against the hemp rope barrier, the hard fibers cutting and biting into my skin. “What if…”

A snap of his fingers.

The suspension bridge collapses, and disappears, sending me tumbling, free falling down towards the abyss.

I want to shout, yet no words come out of my throat. The rush of gravity pulling me downward, the plummeting, the absolute loss of orientation, all overwhelm me.

This is it. I am dying, I think. I must be dying.

I feel nothing but the rush of gravity, yet no matter how long I fall, the drop seems endless.

Please. Help me.

I close my eyes, and I utter his name, like one would a magic word.

“Vyn…”

“You called?” Vyn suddenly appears beside me, holding me close against his chest, falling along with me. “How do you feel?” Once again his voice carries over easily, as if he were talking to me in a more comfortable setting, and certainly not falling headlong into the deep, endless chasm.

“What are you doing? What–”

“Wrap your legs around me, pet,” Vyn whispers. “Cling to me. Hold me.”

Wordlessly I do his bidding: my arms coil around his neck, and my legs wrap around his waist. It is only when I cling to him do I notice how much my body trembles, how entrenched I am in terror. Yet somehow, somehow, if the increased wetness between my legs is to be taken into account, it all translates into sexual arousal.

I am so confused.

“Ah yes. Welcome to my darkness,” Vyn purrs as he once again drives his hard length inside me, his hands on my waist bouncing me over his cock, all the while plummeting to, at this point, god knows where. “It is uncomfortable, I am sure. But is it not exciting?”

I grit my teeth, trying to make sense of what is happening. Frozen in terror, yet too horny to even process that fear properly. “Oh shit,” I breathe out as I cling desperately to his neck. “Why are you doing this to me?” I would say more of my grievances, but the cock ramming up my insides feels too good and I certainly don’t want to ruin the moment.

If I am going to die, might as well die doing something that I like. I feel that coil of tension on my abdomen starting to go off…

I bite my lip as I dare remove one of my arms from his neck, allowing myself to rub furiously at my clit.

“Like I said,” Vyn’s tongue teases the shell of my ear, before the wet muscle slithers inside, further driving me towards the precipice of my climax. “I want to hear you call out for me. And I will control the environment to force you to do so, over and over.” A provocative, gloating smile spreads across his face. "Call out for me. Shout my name out loud. Hahahaha!"

Oh god. His voice is so maddeningly erotic that it pushes me over the edge. “Ahh–Vyn!!” I finally cry out his name, my cunt spasming around his cock as I give in to the wave of pleasure overriding my sheer terror.

“Hahaha. Hahahahaha,” His laughter comes low and menacing, stopping only to once again kiss me full on the mouth. Our French kissing mid-fall stretches out to what feels like eternity, but it makes things feel better, and I do not mind it at all.

It is quite some time before I finally realize that we are no longer falling. I cannot quite make out where we are, only that it is somewhere vaguely comfortable and Vyn is the only thing that I can perceive in this space.

I lie on my back, Vyn bracing over my prone form. “I did tell you about my desires,” he murmurs as he dips down to slowly tongue my nipple to a hard, sensitive peak. “Need I remind you that in this space, I can dilate time.” A slow, firm suck on my breast, making me cream even more, “In this space, we are not constrained to human physical limits.”

Two fingers, finding their way into my recently used pussy, slowly moving in and out, coaxing me once again into arousal.

His other hand finding mine, entwining our fingers.

“I hope you do not mind me taking my time to make love to you, again and again?” comes Vyn’s question, his eyes looking up at me as the flat of his tongue runs along the side of my breast. “May I?”

I let out a deep, drawn out sigh. I certainly did not expect this outcome: to be potentially fucked out into eternity, depending on how deep Vyn’s obsession towards me runs deep.

And when I nod to him to tell him yes, he may fuck me as long as he would like I finally see once again the familiar, warm sparkle in his eyes.

“I am glad,” is all he says, as he gathers me into his arms to start enjoying me at his leisure.

It felt like eons. Yet it was never tiresome.

We did so many things with each other’s bodies, yet the one thing I will always remember is how he held my hand, all the while.

===

“Ah, gods.”

When Vyn woke up it felt like he had been asleep for ages. Everything ached, and his bones creaked at the slightest movement.

He fell asleep on the couch. Not wise. He groaned when he saw the three empty wine bottles on the floor, and the shattered wine glass with the spilled wine by the foot of the couch. Hell. I am in danger of following my father’s footsteps.

Wincing, he gingerly stood up and stretched his limbs. He felt tired, immensely so, as if he spent his entire time sleeping running circles without pause.

Yawning widely he picked up the phone from his mahogany desk to check for any missed calls or messages.

Then he finally read it: Rosa’s message, sent to him last night.

Rosa: I’m already out of the hospital, Dr. Richter. Thank you very much for the visit. I hope I didn’t take away too much time from your patients. I’d like to make it up to you, can we meet this Saturday?

This triggered, unexpectedly, a rush of memories from last night’s dream. Memories all too vivid, unlike the usual faint recollection of dreams that easily fade into obscurity, like sea foam.

I am terrible. Terrible.

And Vyn, Vyn felt nothing but utter shame in his heart. He remembered everything in the dream, and most importantly, he remembered how every action he took was a conscious decision.

When he started to type out his reply, it was supposed to decline her request, gently. Yet Vyn found himself typing

Vyn: I need to talk with you. Can I drop by your place, right now?

===

When Rosa opened the main door to her apartment she was greeted by a slightly tired, disheveled Vyn Richter. Certainly a far cry from the usually impeccable man that she usually saw during their meetings.

“Dr. Richter, come in,” Rosa stepped aside to let him in. “Anything I can do to help?” She then went straight for the kitchen to fetch some refreshments: a glass of juice, and some cookies.

“To be honest, I do not know,” Vyn murmured as he padded straight towards the sofa in the living room. “I…” Once seated, he dug his elbows onto his knees, burying his face into his hands. “I had a very, very disturbing dream…”

The cookie jar in Rosa’s hand’s slipped and fell with a clatter onto the kitchen island.

“The suspension bridge,” is all she said.

Vyn’s head snapped up to look at Rosa. “...The suspension bridge,” he repeated her words. “Yes.”

Then, fully realizing the implication behind it, Vyn let loose a pained laugh. “I should not have come here, then,” he said, standing up from the sofa. “I do not understand the phenomena that happened, but it is undeniable that we did share that experience. And you must hate me by now. The man you saw in your dreams is a terrible man who cannot control his impulses. I should take my leave.” His words came in a pained torrent, and was hurriedly making his way towards her door when Rosa ran after him until she could tug at his sleeve.

“Dr. Richter–no, Vyn–can you please stay?” she begged. “Can we at least talk?”

Vyn stopped in his tracks, but did not face her. “I do not think there is anything to talk about. I took advantage of you. Manipulated your mind. Forced you to…to…” A sharp intake of breath. “Unforgivable. I cannot forgive myself. I–”

“No!” Rosa stubbornly wrapped her arms around Vyn’s waist, not letting him go. “You’re already here. I understand what you were trying to say in the dream, Vyn, even if you were unhinged.” She tightened her grip.

"You do not understand!" The doctor snapped. "What did I do to you in the dream?" came his urgent question.

"You subjected me to the suspension bridge, manipulated the environment so I seek you out," Rosa answered quietly, still not letting go of his waist. "And I did call out for you. Sought your help."

Vyn's voice trembled. "Everything I did in the dream, they were my own deliberate actions," he began. "This is not the same as those dreams where you watch yourself do certain things you would otherwise not do during waking moments. The cruel man you saw is not a dream version of me, he was me." A sharp intake of breath. "I was fully conscious. I was lucid in the dream, Rosa, do you not understand what I am trying to tell you?"

"I was also lucid." came her quick reply. "And still I called out for you." She hugged him tighter. "I'm sorry I didn't realize I hurt you yesterday, Vyn. I...I didn't mean to turn you away."

“Ah.” Vyn finally relented, letting himself be dragged back to the living room sofa. “That matters not anymore,” he said as he sank once again into the upholstery. “You made the right choice, yesterday,” he murmured.

“Vyn, please, look at me?”

The doctor complied, and found himself on the receiving end of a deep kiss. Rosa had thrown her full weight onto him, enough to make him topple over and lie down onto the sofa.

“Mhm…” she smacked her lips as she pulled back. “You were really good, you know? Real hot.”

“What?” Vyn looked lost.

“I meant what I said, Vyn. If I am right and you could recall everything in the dream.” She brushed a stray strand of hair from the doctor’s forehead, tucking it behind his ear. “I’ve liked you for so long, I just…” Rosa bit her lip. “I thought I didn’t deserve you. That your time is much too precious to waste over me. Which is why.”

His eyes widened a bit at her confession, then he managed to gather wits about him, just enough for him to say, “Please. Trust my words. I always, always said that I place you above everything else.” His hands reached out to hers, bringing both of her hands to his lips. “You are the one I care about the most.” A chaste kiss on both knuckles. “I need you,” he said, wistfully. "I only wish…ah, but it is too late to take back what I did. I could have done so many things, in that infinite space…" he winced. "Yet I chose cruelty."

Rosa reached out to cup his face in her hands. “Yet here I am looking at you. Maybe…maybe even love you, Vyn.” A small laugh, like the chiming of bells. “Isn’t that what you want me to say?” A playful fingertip upon his lips. “I mean it, too. I want you, need you." She leaned down for another lingering kiss. "Desire you," she husked.

Stunned yet again, Vyn only looked on at her, mouth agape. Then wordlessly he pulls her closer against him, claiming her in yet another torrid kiss that filled most of the gaps of whatever they were doing in their shared dream, last night.

And Vyn pulled away from the kiss long enough to say, “Unfortunately, pet, we are now in the waking world, and so I cannot manipulate time,” a dark chuckle escaped his lips.

“File an emergency leave. Or make it a sick leave if you have to,” he suggested. “I simply must have you all to myself, here, for the next few days.”

“Oh god,” Rosa moaned at the indirect promise of several days’ worth of pleasure to come.

#tears of themis fanfic #vyn richter #mo yi #tears of themis smut #vyn richter smut

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bratkook · 4 years ago

Text

right now. (m) jjk.

not yet, almost , right now

pairing. jungkook x reader genre. fluff, smut, idiots to lovers!! word count. 14.8k warnings. two mega fucking idiots<33, miscommunication/dumb assumptions, smut in forms of: fingering, oral sex (f.), orgasm denial, spanking, some spit bc duh, unprotected sex, super sweet & lovey!! also jungkook is a sweetheart pls love him summary. coming to terms with your feelings after getting off to the idea of your close friend is a little harder than you thought, but how long can you take before jungkook decides its time to move on? note. did jlin forget how to write for a few weeks? yes, yes she did....i know this took a long time but life is rough man so forgive me... but anyways lol the final part to the not yet!verse is hereeeee! thank you to @kithtaehyung for reading this over for me ily!! thank you guys for enjoying this mini series, the response was really unexpected but im sososo happy over every comment/ask i’ve gotten for this story. once again, tysm for your love and let me know what you think<3

The evening sun illuminates Jungkook’s apartment, golden hour bouncing off every reflective surface and straight into his eyes the second he walks in, immediately squinting as he makes a beeline to shut the blinds. His head was already throbbing from the hangover that decided to peak around noon, a mean case of nausea putting a damper on his work day. So as much as he loved soaking in some vitamin D today was not the day.

“Are you joking?” he huffs as he brings down the blinds, hand yanking at the flimsy string in an attempt to get it unstuck. “How stup—you’d think with the amount I pay every month in rent the blinds would work!”

Alright, so maybe he was a little grumpy today, choosing to take it out on an inanimate object and blame it purely on the bad decisions made last night—definitely had nothing to do with the residual moping of you going on a date. This could be fixed, easily.

The first order of business? Texting you to see if you’d be interested in devouring greasy food from your favorite place down the street. He’d get to see you and finally put something in his stomach, it’s the best of both worlds really.

Jungkook forgets about the blinds, leaving them stuck in the awkward position as he walks away entirely, fishing his phone out of his pocket while he enters his room. It’s the same text he always sends when he’s hangry: If I don’t get food in the next 15 mins I'm burning this place down and taking you with me.

He knows the response he’ll get, either that meme of the child in front of a burning house or an equally hangry paragraph. The phone gets tossed onto his bed as he changes out of his work clothes, needing to dispose of the business casual attire that was suffocating him, his old college hoodie giving him the comfort he needs.

By the time he’s finally slipping on his sneakers he’s expecting you to come knocking on his door, your impatient attitude always putting a smile on his face. Half of the time your neighbors thought you were having arguments from the way you’d pound onto the slab of wood, saying his name with just enough annoyance laced into each syllable it would fool anyone into thinking you were actually upset instead of being a brat. But when that never comes, he reaches for his phone again.

A few notifications fill up his screen, some instagram direct message previews, his group chat that he never responded to, and a few emails coming through, but you had yet to respond. Maybe it’s a little creepy, but Jungkook knows you’re home because he passed by your parked car on his way in. So his mind jumps to two extremes: you were either face down, drowning in your bathtub, or that yellow shades wearing wannabe version of himself was at your place.

Not an ounce of shame sits within him as he speedwalks to the side his bed was on, placing both palms onto the wall before his ear was pressed against the cold drywall. Jungkook’s not really sure what would make him feel good, hearing you and Jung Hoseok together, or hearing nothing at all. His ears strain to hear anything, but the only sound he gets is his own blood pumping.

With a small pout he pulls back, deciding he’d play the annoying neighbor role today and pound on your door instead. It’s a role he doesn’t take lightly, knuckles banging on the wood loud enough for you to hear wherever you were in your apartment. It takes a few minutes before any sign of life is shown, your door creaking open, and Jungkook is thankful because he was about to head to the maintenance office to ask for a key in case you actually were drowning in your bathtub.

“C’mon, let’s get food,” he declares instantly, a charming smile on his face as he stands with his hands stuffed into his jean pockets. The smile slowly falls off when he gets a good look at you, hair looking like a mess on your head and your fluffy blanket draped around you as you give out a weak cough. “Are you sick?”

“I think so,” you rasp out, leaning against your door frame and tugging the blanket tighter around you.

“Did that fucker give you mono?” Jungkook looks irritated, brows pinched together in a grimace—something you’re definitely not accustomed to seeing so you almost don’t catch his accusation.

“Jungkook, no! It’s nothing serious.”

He doesn’t look fully convinced, but he shrugs anyways, positive you weren’t interested in getting interrogated when you were feeling under the weather. “Alright, let me know if you need me to drive you to the doctor if it becomes something serious.”

With a roll of your eyes and a small smile, you wave him off, slowly shutting the door behind you. Your eye immediately peeks through your peephole, not relaxing until he makes his way down the hall and enters the elevator, still on his quest for greasy food.

“God, how old are you?” you grumble to yourself, yanking the blanket off your body and onto the floor with a huff. Pretending to be sick to avoid your friend was a new low, especially after the post-orgasm epiphany you had last night. A sane person would come to terms with their feelings and confess to them, uncertainty and possible rejection be damned! But you? No, you have to fake a cold like the giant coward you are.

The guilt only deepens when a knock comes from your door an hour later, a quick peek through your peephole allowing you to see Jungkook setting two plastic bags on the floor before stepping back and walking to his apartment next door. You don’t come out until you hear his door shut, seeing the logo of your favorite diner down the street. No doubt would your comfort meal be inside the takeaway container.

It takes all you have to not rush over to his place and say you were lying when you see he had also gone ahead and got you cold medication, a few different bottles because he surely didn’t know which was best, along with teas and some cough drops.

You’re a dirty liar. A horrible friend too.

That doesn’t stop you from devouring the meal in the takeout box as you’re hunched over your breakfast bar like a little gremlin. “This is just for today,” you mumble out to yourself as you set the plastic fork down and chug some of the leftover alcohol you had in your fridge. It’s your own version of a pity party, except the food feels heavy in your stomach, knowing the man you were avoiding was the one who bought it—bring on the guilt.

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

You’re a dirty liar and horrible friend 2.0. Why this time? Because tomorrow stretched out a few more days than planned. It wasn’t entirely intentional at first, getting stuck at work longer than usual and missing the weekly hangout at your place where you got your remote covered in cheeto dust as you argued over what to watch. But it trickled down onto shorter replies to his texts, or you scrambling out of your apartment and into the elevator so fast in order to not run into him, your mind still trying to list all the pros and cons to this potential relationship before you even had the guts to confess to your feelings.

Jungkook didn’t know thats what was occupying your mind, no he was currently thinking the worst. He notices the change instantly, recognizing it because this was the exact way you had acted while you were with Hajoon, right before you broke the news to him that you needed to keep some distance while you focused on your relationship. So Jungkook automatically assumes that your sudden change in behavior after going on a single date with Jung Hoseok, was because you wanted to make your relationship with this man work.

His assumption stings—a lot actually—and soon enough he stops initiating conversations altogether. He didn’t want to hear you tell him you had to distance yourself again, he’s not sure his heart could handle that a second time, so he decides to get ahead of the curb and take a massive step away from you. It hurts him to know you’re right next door, and just like before, it’s like you’re back to being total strangers.

Safe to say Jungkook was currently going on his own downward spiral.

You could text him like nothing had happened and he’d accept it with open arms, but instead you text your best friend an SOS text, begging her to meet you at your place. She calls you dramatic at first, but once you say it’s about Jungkook she shows up at your place in record time.

“Did you finally fuck him?” Is her greeting of choice, spoken shamelessly from the hallway with no worry about her volume. She cackles when you yank the bottle of wine from her grasp and tug her into your apartment, letting the door slam behind her.

“You’re lucky he’s not home you bitch.” An eye roll is her only response, yanking the bottle back and making her way into your kitchen to grab the opener.

“So you didn’t fuck him?” The cork pops at her question, a curious glance staring you down as she pours the red liquid into an oversized cup.

“No Seulgi, I didn’t fuck him. But I did...something.” It makes your face warm up as you remember it, gratefully grabbing the cup she hands your way because you definitely need some liquid courage before confessing to your sins.

She hums in thought as she raids your pantry for something to munch on, settling on a bag of mini pretzels before leading you to your couch, needing to know the gossip that led to your sos text. “Okay, did you accidentally send him a nude then?”

“No, that wouldn’t be so bad I think?” Sending him an accidental nude would be laughable, probably resolved by a few screaming texts and dumb jokes before moving on. But new feelings seeing the light of day seemed so much worse. “But I sort of kissed him at a club a few weeks ago to get back at Hajoon—long story,” you cut in when you see her ready to fire off questions.

“And then I went on that failed Tinder date I told you about, and when I got home I sort of heard him, you know,”— you mimic a jerking off motion with your hand and ignore her lewd gasp, “and then I…” you trail off shamefully.

“No!” she gasps even louder, hand pressed to her mouth and eyes wide.

“Yes! And the fucking orgasm opened my eyes and made me realize that maybe that tiny crush you guys always joke about him having is real, and maybe I have a tiny crush on him too.”

“Does he know?”

“That I like him?”

“No, that you rubbed one out while listening to him you dirty slut!” Oh she’s loving this, leaning back into your cushions with a handful of pretzels resting on her boobs, a sly smile on her lips as she takes a sip of her wine. She’s the one who planted the seed in your mind, playfully joking about Jungkook any chance she got, saying he had the hots for you because she enjoyed the flustered look on your face. No doubt would she text the group chat with the news the second you finish this cry for help.

“Do you think I told him? I can barely come to terms with the fact that I like him. Like what am I supposed to do?”

She sighs dramatically, munching on the final pretzel on her tits before sitting up and dusting off the crumbs from her shirt. “Look, I know you’re just realizing that he likes you so this is still new and fresh for you, but we’ve noticed it for years. It’s fine that you didn’t see it, you had other things occupying your mind.”

You frown as you stare at the rug beneath your feet, remembering how life was when you first moved into this complex. Getting out of a previous relationship weeks prior, when you had met Jungkook your mind was not interested in pursuing anything with him regardless of how cute you thought he was. It made it easier for you to form a friendship, not worried about trying to impress him, or flirt with him, allowing him to see you for who you truly are.

Jungkook had his fair share of girlfriends during the years, none of which were entirely serious but by the time he was completely single you had met Hajoon, and he had accepted the fact that maybe you were better off as friends and he would just admire you from afar. That is, until you decided to plant one on him. So technically this is your fault.

“Jungkook likes you okay, and I’m sure if you just marched next door and told him you like him too he’ll drop on one knee and marry you.”

“Shut up,” you snort, shoving her shoulder with a smile.

“As a matter of fact, go over there right now!” She stands up from her spot, yanking your arms to haul you up with her.

“I told you, he’s not home. But, I’ll tell him. I have to.”

Seulgi crosses her arms over her chest as she stares at you, clearly displeased that she wouldn’t be witness to this love story unfolding in real time. “You better. You never know what sneaky little bitch is trying to get him to get over you.”

The sneaky little bitch in question is Park Jimin, currently sitting directly across from Jungkook, guzzling down beer like his life depends on it. It's impressive really, how quickly he empties the cup, eyes shut looking as content as could be even in the dim lighting. Jungkook can only watch with a grimace as his friend sets the glass down and wipes at his mouth with no sense of table manners.

“What?” he burps, proceeding to pour more of the golden liquid into his cup from the pitcher in the middle of the table.

“I always forget how absolutely disgusting you are. How do you do it?” Jimin just frowns at the question, not entirely understanding so Jungkook continues. “What switch do you flip to go from sipping champagne to chugging beer like a fucking biker.”

“It’s a talent, I know.” He smiles wide, reaching forward to grip Jungkook’s hand and force him to grab his own cup. Condensation was pooling around the bottom from sitting there untouched, and that just wouldn’t do on Jimin’s watch. “C’mon, drink it!”

“Fine,” Jungkook grumbles, raising the glass and allowing Jimin to clank the cups together before taking a big gulp. He doesn’t clear the cup like his friend did seconds prior but it's enough to appease him. It tastes absolutely bitter the whole way down, settling into his stomach uncomfortably, and the look on his face as he pushes the glass away from him is very telling.

Boisterous shouts fill the sports bar they were in, huddles of people surrounding the tables and booths as they watched the current soccer match playing on the televisions lining the walls. Jungkook honestly feels like a debby downer now, moping in his seat instead of enjoying the atmosphere with his friend like they normally did. The current game was definitely not the reason Jungkook had texted Jimin to grab drinks, no he needed an outlet to talk about you—preferably in a space that didn’t have walls as thin as his apartment.

When he barely acknowledges the plate of wings set in front of him Jimin huffs, resisting the urge to dig in because he knew once he did he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else. “Are you gonna be like this the entire time?”

“Like what?” Jungkook has the gall to ask, acting as if he wasn’t looking like a wounded animal.

“Like you just discovered your wife of ten years is having an affair with your sister.”

He sits up straighter at that, eyes wide in disbelief. “Jesus.“

Jimin knew the jist of what was happening through the texts he had received the past week, but it seems like Jungkook didn’t want to jump into the topic of it at all now that they were sitting across from each other. He just sighs before deciding to be honest, wasting no time beating around the bush to hopefully be the voice of reason Jungkook needs. “You’ve been simping over her for years JK, and I get it, you think she could be the one. But what about you huh? It’s not fair for you to have your heart wrung out each time she gets a man and decides to put the friendship on pause—“

“That happened once!” He defends, brows pinched on his forehead as he shakes his head, ready to explain your situation because he wasn’t a fan of hearing his friend say anything about you when he didn’t truly know what happened. “The dude was a piece of shit and basically told her it was him or me. I’m not gonna crucify her for wanting a long term relationship to work.”

“Right, so she’s not icing you out again because she got a new man? That’s literally what you told me, it’s why I bought you this sympathy pitcher of beer!”

“Fuck you, you bought this pitcher for yourself.” Jimin had chugged two giant glasses of beer already, and was steadily working on his third, whereas Jungkook’s watered down cup remained relatively untouched. “Besides, I was just...spiraling and assumed when I sent you that desperate text. But I haven’t heard anything.”

Jimin can only stare blankly at the table as he processes what was just said before locking eyes with his friend once more, “Sorry, what? You haven’t heard anything? The hell kind of riddle is that.”

Jungkook sinks into the booth with a look of shame, not wanting to admit to occasionally laying in his bed at night in complete and total silence just to see if he could hear you and the hypothetical version of Jung Hoseok doing literally anything. It’s not one of his proudest moments, feeling like a bit of a creeper as he laid stiff on his bed, too scared to make a sound. “Nothing, forget about it. Point is, I haven’t seen the fucker come in or out of her place, so what does that mean?”

A deep sigh comes from Jimin, hand reaching forward to push the beer closer to Jungkook, desperately trying to get him to drink and ease up. “It means you pay far too much attention to her. When was the last time you got any action?”

Two weeks ago. From his hand and filthy imagination.

“A few months,” he grumbles, remembering his last hook up that happened a few days before he discovered you got dumped.

“Get outta here.” Jimin rolls his eyes as he points to the door. “Literally, go stand at the corner outside, show some thighs or a tattooed titty and take your pick of the swarm of girls that will surely follow you.”

Jungkook thinks he’s joking, but when his friend doesn’t drop his hand and narrows his eyes threateningly he knows he’s being serious. “My tits aren’t even tattooed,”—his large palms press against his shirt covered chest as if to prove a point— “And you sound like a douchebag talking like this.”

“What? She went on a tinder date and definitely got laid, so you need to even out the playing field. Also, it might help you chill the hell out.”

“Oh my god, you’re not helping.” Jungkook really didn’t need that visual again, it had flashed in his mind too often the night of his pity party and now it was once again at the front of his brain.

“Alright, okay. I’m throwing out my safe word right now.” Jimin leans closer, arms resting on the table with a confused look on his face. “What do you need from me here? Like, do I play the role of a supportive friend who wants you to get over her, or do I play the role of a friend who wants you to confess? Because you’re giving me some mixed signals Jeon.”

A groan escapes Jungkook, fingers rubbing at his eyes before dragging down his face as he sinks even further into his seat. “I don’t know.”

It’s the truth. Jungkook had no idea what he wanted his friend to do to help him. He knew that although his feelings for you have weighed heavy on his chest for what seems like years, you technically had no idea, so he feels a little guilty over his frustration for the whole situation. You were newly single again and determined to go through this self proclaimed wild phase so Jungkook isn’t dumb enough to think you can’t go out and do whatever you want, even if that means being with someone who isn’t him.

“Look,” Jimin sighs, pulling him out of his thoughts. “You only have two choices here, tell her how you feel and accept whatever comes with it, or make peace with the idea of just being friends. Either way, I think you need to loosen up and have fun tonight.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Jungkook sits himself up, wrapping his fingers around the cup in an effort to at least look like he wanted to be here. He couldn’t sit here and mope about a problem like this when he hadn’t attempted to come out and tell you how he feels.

One night of loosening up to get you off his mind wouldn’t hurt, if anything it might help him come to his senses. At least that’s what Jimin was currently whispering with a mischievous smile on his lips. “It’ll be fine, I’ll make sure you don’t black out and get home safe. Who knows, you might get plastered enough to drunk text your confession.”

Jungkook glares at his friend, not liking the goofy look on his face as he starts to laugh. “I swear to god, you better not let me get to that point. Take my phone away from me.”

Jimin obviously wants to see the world burn, or at least he enjoys it when Jungkook somehow digs himself into his own grave. That's exactly why he responds with a million laughing emojis when Jungkook texts him asking why the hell he hadn’t taken his phone last night.

He did a good job hiding his shock when a knock came from his front door, half expecting it to be you, keeping a smile on his face as he allowed the person who was very clearly not you in before swiftly entering his bathroom. Jungkook wants to stay locked here forever, holed up while he sits on his toilet and not in the living room with company. It wasn’t like it was bad company either, his drunken ass going through his contact list and sending an invitation to hangout the following day to the last person he spoke to, Aillie.

The girl is sweet, someone he had a casual fling with for months, someone who was used to his random texts so she doesn’t think twice before agreeing. The only silver lining to this was that he hadn’t sent you a typo-filled drunken confession, which is what Jimin responds with before telling him to suck it up and leave his bathroom.

Jungkook accepts his fate, as well as accepting that he is partially responsible for this. He shoves his device back into his pockets before standing up and flushing the toilet for show, washing his hands just to stall. One good glance at his reflection makes him cringe, stained shirt and sweats combo leaves him looking like the unprepared mess he is. Another detour through his room to change was a must before he has no choice but to step back out.

“You’re totally hung over aren’t you?” Aillie jokes from her spot on the couch, comfortable enough in his apartment from the time spent here. She locks her phone as she stands up, taking her time to really look Jungkook over. He was not dressed like someone who was expecting a guest, and despite having seen Jungkook at his sloppiest, his previous attire of oversized shirt and slightly stained sweatpants didn’t look like someone who was expecting a fuck buddy to pop over. Even with his new outfit looking more put together, it was obvious Jungkook was caught off guard by her showing up.

“What?” Jungkook dumbly asks, trying to come up with some lame excuse to justify his earlier appearance but he falls short. His fingers gently rake through his hair, a grimace falling on his face as he looks back up at her. “Actually, a little. Sorry, I got drunk last night when I text you so sober me was not really prepared.”

“Yeah I figured, you sent me some blurry selfies right after. But we can just hang, we don’t have to do anything,” she trails off, a soft smile on her lips. The only time they ever hung out was to hook up, having ten minute conversations before and after the fact. “Or I can leave too if it's weird that I’m here.”

Jungkook is shaking his head before she can even finish, already feeling bad enough after texting her to come over. How shitty would he be if he immediately kicked her out. This was fine, a nice distraction from it all, decent middle ground that would help him get his mind off you without having to take Jimin’s douchebag advice.

“No, we can watch a movie or something. It’s not like I have other plans.” Had this been two weeks ago it would be a totally different story. Jungkook would typically be waiting in his apartment as he stared at the slowly ticking clock, just waiting for it to strike 7:30 because that's when you usually got home. Then he’d either get a text from you to come over with snacks or you’d show up at his door and invite yourself over for the weekly game night.

It didn’t happen last week, or the week prior, so Jungkook is very confident that it would not be happening today either. It’s that same sense of confidence—and saltiness—that allows him to get comfortable with Aillie, blissfully unaware that you had just pulled into the parking garage a few stories below.

“I swear to god if you don’t go straight to his door the minute you get off the elevator I will never let you live it down.” Seulgi’s voice fills your car through the speakers, fading out as you shut the car off and bring your phone to your ear to continue the conversation.

“Dude, I just got off work. I need to make myself look decent.” Plastic bags rustle together as you grab the snacks you had picked up on your way home, all full of yours and Jungkook's favorite treats. It was definitely a guilt fueled purchase, hoping the items were enough to distract him from the fact that you were kind of a bitch for ghosting him recently, or at least butter him up into accepting your apology easier.

“You think Jungkook cares if you’re a little sweaty from work? He’s a grown man, that’s not gonna stop him from going do—“

“Okay, goodbye!” You hastily cut her off as you press the elevator button, hearing her rambling off about being interrupted. “I’m about to get on the elevator, I’ll tell you how it goes.”

With a small sigh you hang up and stuff the device into your purse, stepping onto the lift as the doors open up and pressing the number for your floor. Your hands are clammy as you grip the plastic bag, uncharacteristically nervous about seeing Jungkook again after so long.

The main obstacle for you to get over was apologizing for being a crappy friend, and if that went well you were going to suck it up and just come out and confess, the odds of him saying no were slim. And even if he did, you’re perfectly content with staying friends, as long as you could keep him close.

It’s that same optimistic mentality that allows you to calm down as you enter your place and decide to give yourself a minute to mentally prepare. His favorite ice cream gets put into the freezer for later before you decide to shower and give yourself a pep talk the entire time.

This pep talk of yours is filled with best case scenarios: Jungkook accepting the confession with open arms, finally being able to kiss him properly, everything falling into place the way it should have a long time ago. And as you head over, totally sober, freshly washed, looking and smelling your best, you really can’t picture this going any other way.

With a deep breath you’re knocking on his front door, quickly pulling back your hand and wiping it onto your pants as you step back. Jungkook hears the knock clearly from his spot on the couch, his gaze tearing away from the television to stare at his front door with a small frown. He hadn’t ordered any food and Aillie had just excused herself to use his bathroom so his brain is having a hard time wondering who it could be.

He curses under his breath, not putting it past himself to have texted a second person last night with an invitation to hang out. Why was Jungkook a friendly drunk?

As he presses his eye against the peephole and spots you standing there, he thinks he’s imagining things. It had seemed like so long since he had last seen you in person, and the warped fish-eyed version of you has him stepping back and rubbing his eyes before taking another glance. He suddenly feels like throwing up, and he can’t blame his earlier hangover on it.

For a brief second he contemplates pretending he hadn’t heard you, but the guilt of doing so makes his heart twist, so he musters up the courage to open the door. It’s barely a crack really, just enough for you to see him while still concealing his apartment, something you definitely found strange because you’re usually flinging the door open and strutting right in, but you suppose his reaction is warranted considering your previous behavior.

“Y/N, hey. Are you alright?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine!” Your fingers tangle together in front of you, not entirely sure what to do with your nerves and Jungkook spots it easily. His own nerves sky rocket when he hears the sound of running water coming from his bathroom a few feet away, knowing Aillie would most likely pop out any second now, and he’s not sure why it feels like a dirty secret that he has another girl over.

“Did you need something?”

“Yeah, I was actually wanting to talk to you about something kind of important.” Your smile is hopeful, despite the nerves swirling in your eyes. The nervous skip of your heart is felt in your throat, not remembering the last time you had felt this way about telling someone how you felt about them romantically.

“Right now?” he wonders, fingers gripping the door handle tighter when he hears his bathroom door unlock, the sound of footsteps rounding the corner before stepping into the living room, a few feet away from the door and in perfect view of the wedge Jungkook had opened.

When your eyes flicker over his shoulder, spotting the auburn haired girl giving you a curious glance, you feel all your confidence slip away. Seulgi had definitely been right about needing to confess soon, Jungkook was a catch and just because you hadn’t realized it sooner didn’t mean the rest of the world was blind to it.

“Yeah, right now...but you’re busy, so it’s fine!” You want to scramble away from there, feeling dumb the longer you stand there. Jungkook wants to say he’s not busy, kick the girl out of his place and invite you in but that wouldn’t be fair to her, for all he knew your important conversation would be a repeat of the conversation you had over Hajoon, and he really didn't want to get friendship dumped while this girl was in his apartment. He’s pretty sure his Yelp rating would drop a bit if he cried on the couch about you to his old hook up.

He starts to speak but you cut him off before he can, “Don’t worry about it! I’ll see you later.” You force a smile before walking away, not allowing him to get a word in as you quickly step into your apartment and move to the furthest room away from your bedroom.

You can feel the cold of your kitchen floor as you sit on your butt, back against your cabinets, the small twinge of defeat spreading within you. “This is fine. Maybe she’s just a friend. I can always tell him tomorrow,” you whisper out. But your fingers seem to think otherwise as they type out a message to Seulgi, informing her that the mission was unsuccessful and you’d be putting on The Notebook like you always did. It was basically protocol to do so when things went south in your life.

She doesn’t even know how to console you, knowing she can’t tell you it was his loss or that he wasn’t worth it because she knows that’d be a lie and you wouldn’t believe it for a second. The only thing she can offer is coming over, but you’re quick to turn her down, deciding that being alone in the comfort of your bed as you inhaled the ice cream you bought for Jungkook would be best.

Is being in your room the wisest choice when you know you share a wall with Jungkook—and he has a cute girl over? No. Probably not. But you figure if you hear anything explicit it’s just your dose of karma, so you accept it, turning up the volume of the movie a few levels just to soften the blow.

However, Jungkook would definitely not be hooking up with her in his bedroom, or anywhere in his apartment for that matter. Luckily Aillie is blessed with the gift of reading the damn room and can easily spot the shift in Jungkook’s mood the second he shuts the door. She’s sitting on the edge of the couch now, hands gently placed on her knees as she gives him a sympathetic smile.

“I get the vibe that somethings off.”

He looks up at her then, slowing his pace until he’s awkwardly standing in the middle of the room with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “My friend—my neighbor just wanted to talk about something. But everything’s fine.”

The lie tastes bitter on his tongue, and Aillie doesn’t believe him in the slightest. A small sigh fills the air as she stands up, collecting her bag and approaching him. “Look, I know deep talks really aren’t our thing so I’m not going to even try to dive into this, but you should go talk to your friend.”

A comforting hand is placed on his shoulder before she makes her way to the door to leave, Jungkook already following closely behind her. “No, you don’t have to go. You came all this way because I texted you with way too much tequila in my system.”

“Jungkook,” she laughs, opening the door with a smile. “You’re way too sweet for your own good. It was nice seeing you though.” Her eyes slowly move over to your front door before looking back at him, head cocking to the side in a very clear indication that he better go over. He can only nod in understanding, waving her goodbye and shutting the door once she heads down to the elevator.

The action sounds of the movie they were watching continues to fill his apartment, whatever chaos was going on only making his brain whirl so he’s quick to grab the remote and shut it off entirely. Now he’s just stuck in complete silence, wondering if he should quickly make his way over to yours or play it calm and collected.

The total silence allows him to hear the muffled mumbling of a movie he knew all too well. It draws him in, lures him into his bedroom until he’s kneeling on the mattress with his ear pressed against the wall to properly make it out. You were watching the Notebook, at a concerning volume, which could mean a number of things. Jungkook knew none of them were good, usually rooted in issues you had with your ex, or a tough day at work, or any particular day where you just felt like crying.

With a deep breath, he’s slowly knocking along his wall, almost experimentally, hoping it's enough to grab your attention through the current scene playing. For a second he thinks maybe you’ve fallen asleep while watching the film, but then the room falls silent as you pause it entirely.

Your hearts racing now, ears straining to hear anything else and hoping this wasn’t how the beginning of the explicit noises would start, but then another knock comes from behind you. It makes you gasp, like you’ve just been caught being the nosey neighbor you are, hearing the soft scrape of his hand sliding down the wall. The ice cream gets put onto your nightstand as you sit up properly, forcing yourself out of the mountain of pillows you were practically suffocating in and turning around to knock back.

Jungkook’s palm presses back onto the wall, smiling at your response before fishing his phone out of his pocket. His fingers find your thread of messages, further down the list than he was used to, and as he opens them up and sees the string of unanswered texts dating back to two weeks ago, it stings just like it did before. He pushes his pride aside though, knowing you had wanted to talk today in person, so he proceeds to quadruple text you.

Jungkook 8:44pm : are you seriously watching the notebook again?

You’re unlocking your phone the second it buzzes, smiling at the dimly lit screen before typing out a response.

Y/N 8:45pm : shut up, it’s my comfort movie

Y/N 8:45pm : do you wanna watch it with me? for old times sake

The device is locked and placed face down onto your sheets the second you hit send, sinking into the pillows once again as you try not to scream at yourself because you know he’ll hear you. Why would you invite him over when he clearly has company? You had seen her with your own eyes, had seen how cute she is, had seen how cute Jungkook is, it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

Jungkook is quick though, texting back in agreement and heading over instantly. If you were watching your comfort movie then Jungkook wanted to make sure you were okay. Putting the past two weeks behind him, knowing you’d most likely have a good enough explanation—an explanation he would definitely be needing before the night was over—he’s knocking on your door before you can even check your messages.

It takes you a minute to untangle your limbs from your covers as you hastily try to get to your door, sock clad feet sliding along your wooden floors when you finally yank the door open. Jungkook wears a soft smile as he stares down at you, taking note that you had switched your outfit to your usual sad movie binge attire of baggy shirt and lounge shorts. His eyes zero in on your lips when he notices there's something lingering at the corner of them.

“So, are you gonna share whatever the hell that is?” His finger points at it smugly, laughing when your tongue peeks out to wipe it away.

“It was actually meant to be for you.” Stepping aside, you let him enter your place. Jungkook almost feels a little strange being here after the weird few weeks, but he pushes it aside, just wanting things to feel normal.

“Does that mean there’s no more left?” His eyes playfully narrow at you as you step closer, moving on to stare at the kitchen table, and the coffee table in search of the tub of ice cream that supposedly had his name on it. The earlier nerves you felt slowly fade away when you realize he’s not visibly upset about what happened, but it only makes your guilt deepen that despite your ability to be a crummy friend, Jungkook would still try his best to come through for you.

“There’s about half of it left, it’s probably a little soft now though.” You side step him to enter the kitchen, grabbing an extra spoon and handing it over as a peace treaty, smiling when he gratefully accepts it. “C’mon, I paused the movie.”

Jungkook is not a stranger to your bedroom, especially when sappy movies were playing, finding his spot easily on the right side where he typically handed you tissues whenever you cried. The tissues were missing this time, in place of them being the bag of snacks you had bought, his ice cream on the other nightstand.

“What part are you on?” he asks, settling onto the bed after fluffing up the pillows, waving his hands so you could pass the tub of ice cream his way.

“It just started raining on the boat.” Jungkook hums, scooping out some of the chocolate ice cream and into his mouth. He knew this scene very well, and when you press play, he mentally repeats all of the lines. Just as Noah declares he wrote her 365 letters, you awkwardly clear your throat, your own spoon slowly sneaking over to his side to steal some ice cream for yourself.

“I’m sorry if I made things awkward with your date.” Your voice sounds timid, something he’s not used to hearing from you at all, so he chuckles, laughing harder when you swat at his arm. “I’m serious, I should have texted you before just showing up.”

“Really? When have you ever done that before?” The two of you never notified the other when they wanted to show up, Jungkook had even given you the code to his place once when he was at work and you were desperate for some fruity pebbles—you used that code to your advantage and Jungkook never hated it. But all things considered, it's fair why you think you would have to give him a heads up.

“You didn’t make it awkward though.” It’s not the complete truth, you coming over is what had made Aillie decide to leave, but Jungkook had to take most of the credit for it. “I kinda made it awkward from the beginning.”

“Why, what happened?”

“I went out last night with Jimin“ —you immediately hum in understanding, knowing very well how convincing Jimin could be with alcohol— “and apparently I texted her to hang out today, had no recollection, so when she showed up I was definitely not ready.”

“Damn, this is how I know you’re a better person than I am. If that happened to me, the second I checked my peephole and saw someone I didn’t remember inviting over, I’m gonna pretend I’m not home.”

“Yeah well, she lives like an hour away so I’d feel like an ass if I did that. Don’t think I’ll be talking to her again any time soon though.” He sighs in thought, gently tapping his spoon on the surface of the softening ice cream. There was one thing weighing heavy on his mind, needing to know what important thing you had to talk to him about, wondering if you were actually going to friendship dump him earlier and he had just made it worse by coming over and hanging out like old times.

He doesn’t want to come right out and ask it though, not wanting to set himself up for an awkward conversation in case that wasn’t what you wanted to talk about, so he settles for something safe enough that would allow him to get a glimpse.

“So how are things with Hoseok?” Yeah, that’s a good start.

“Huh?” Your spoon freezes in its spot, face clearly looking confused in the dim glow of the television, the movie long forgotten now that you were speaking.

“Tinder guy? Yellow sunglasses guy that gave you mono?”

It suddenly clicks again, having forgotten all about Jung Hoseok the second you had gotten home from the failed date and came to terms with your feelings. Your lie of having a cold must have been believable enough for Jungkook to genuinely think he had given you something like mono.

“He didn’t give me mono!” Jungkook rolls his eyes with a playful smile, humming along like he totally believes you. “But I didn’t tell you?”

He frowns as he stares at you, not entirely sure how to take your tone. “Tell me what? That you’re engaged and the wedding is in June?”

“No way,” you laugh, swatting his spoon away with a clank as you grab some ice cream before shoving it in your mouth, fighting against the brain freeze to continue speaking. “Our date was a bust.”

“How? Was it that bad?” He desperately wanted to know, having convinced himself the date had gone spectacularly well and you were now an exclusive item. The small twinge of guilt is felt when he realizes he’s a little too happy that the date had been a failure, but he allows himself to have this small, tiny victory.

“Mm, it was so good it was bad.” He looks utterly confused, and you don’t blame him, so you elaborate. “He was this perfect gentleman who just wanted to play games, like to the point where he had a notebook where he was tallying our points, and then he walked me to my car and kissed my cheek goodbye.”

“Oh the horror!” Jungkook gasps, setting his spoon down to clutch his heart in dramatics. “How dare he try to romance you with a game night.”

“Jungkook, shut up!” you laugh, finally feeling like everything was right again, sitting in bed with your closest friend as you teased each other. “Look, I’ll give him some credit. The date was nice, he was not the sleazy douchebag his profile made him out to be, and I’m sure he’ll find the perfect girl for him on Tinder. But he clearly wanted something serious and—“

“And you don’t want that right now. It’s fair.” Of course you would turn him down, you had just decided to embark on this new adventure in the single world. It was kind of dumb for Jungkook to assume one date with Tinder Boy would be enough for you to give up your short lived dream.

You take a steady breath at his words before taking another scoop of ice cream, lips wrapped around the spoon as you slowly pull it out of your mouth. The nerves are trickling back in, making your heart skip and your eyes bounce around. If you don’t come out and say it now, you know you never will.

Your spoon joins his in the tub of ice cream before you decide to move it back to the nightstand, forcing yourself to look back at him, seeing him turned away as he rummages through the plastic bag full of snacks. “I don’t want that with him.”

Jungkook freezes, the rustling of plastic ceases as his hands come back to his sides and he turns back around. With him. He was the king of jumping to worse case scenarios so his brain has no issues coming to this very horrible conclusion.

“Have you been talking to Hajoon again?”

“No, Jungkook I haven’t.”

“Are you sure? I’m saying this now, but if you get back with him I will not hesitate to pop him in the face if I run into him in the halls. It’s fair game out there, neutral territory for him to get his ass beat—“

“It’s you.”

His brain short circuits at that, mini versions of himself currently running around and screaming in his head as he tries to make sense of this. The first instinct he has is to crack a joke, to say that he hadn’t been talking to Hajoon again, and laugh it off. But you look a little too vulnerable right now, eyes nervously looking at him and then looking away at his lingering silence.

“Wait, what?” It’s the only thing he can sputter out, caught off guard by your words, not wanting to say anything else in case the world was cruel enough for him to have completely misheard you.

“I don’t want that with Tinder Boy or Hajoon, I want it with you.” It gets a little easier saying it a second time, but his reaction is hard to gauge. You had been expecting him to reciprocate the confession instantly, but the longer he looked shocked only made you think that you and Seulgi had been seriously wrong about his supposed crush.

Jungkook is having a difficult time trying to go from you ghosting him to you suddenly admitting to liking him, the change in emotions not allowing him to say anything he had practiced in the mirror for so long. He can’t come out and give you a speech about how he thinks you’re the one, how you’re obviously a good match together, brain too focused on other details. “How long have you known this?”

“For the past two weeks, but deep down I know it’s been longer.”

His wide eyes glance over at you now, everything slowly clicking into place. “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“Yes,” you mumble, embarrassed over the way you had acted. The last time you had avoided someone was in elementary school, having a best friend go ask your crush if he likes you while you hid in the bathroom, scared of the answer. “I like you Jungkook and I knew I wouldn’t be able to play it cool. I was scared to say something and have you not feel the same and then have our friendship be weird.”

Jungkook smiles in that adorable way you love, nose scrunching up cutely as he leans closer, large palms coming to cup your cheeks. He has wanted to hear this for so long, and sure, maybe it wasn’t some super romantic confession over a candlelit dinner like he had occasionally dreamed of, but this felt right.

“You’re so stupid,” he whispers out, thumb softly caressing your cheek as he chuckles, feeling the way your lips turn into a frown at his harmless insult.

“Jungkook, I’m being serious,” you whine, heart still pounding in your chest. Your hands come up to gently wrap around his wrists, allowing him to continue to squish your cheeks with that endearing look on his face.

“I’m being serious too Y/N. Did you really think I wouldn’t feel the same?” Jungkook did everything he did with you out of pure friendliness, never expecting to get something in return from it, but there was a small sprinkling of a crush in every one of his actions. “I like you too, and I have for a really long time.”

The relief you feel comes instantly, lips slowly pulling into a smile when you finally have the confidence to look directly into his eyes again. If this is how light you feel after the two weeks spent freaking out, you can only imagine how Jungkook feels. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Now, can I please kiss you?” You’re nodding the second the question leaves his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as his hands glide down to cup your jaw, soft lips slowly pressing against yours. It’s a gentle smack of skin as he pulls back, a smirk on his lips when he opens his eyes, softly rubbing his nose against yours.

“Wait,” he breathes out, chuckling softly. “Is he still looking?” He has the nerve to repeat the same question that had been the root of your guilt, and when your eyes shoot open and glare at him, he can’t stop the laughter that bubbles out.

“I hate you,” you mutter out, not an ounce of truth behind it.

“Mm, no you don’t.”

His lips find yours again, falling into a steady rhythm, softer and less rushed than the first kiss you had shared at the club. There’s no pounding bass in the background, or the taste of liquor on your lips, but Jungkook prefers it this way. He likes the low hum of the movie continuing to play in the background, the sweetness of the ice cream lingering on your lips when his tongue gently swipes at the seam of them, the way your hands slowly slide around his neck as he deepens each kiss.

With each shared breath, you slide further down your bed, pulling Jungkook down with you until he’s hovering directly above you. His knees dig into the sheets, one hand pressed beside your head to keep himself stable as you urge him even closer to you. The delicate golden chain he wears kisses your skin, pendant settling onto your chest, the cool sensation is almost enough to distract you as his tongue slowly slips into your mouth. Jungkook groans when you let out a small gasp, your fingers slipping into his hair and tugging gently at the strands by the nape of his neck.

He wants to remember this kiss instead of the one from the club, embed every gasp you let out into his brain, the way your chest pushes up to feel more of him, how your hands slide down his back, leaving a fiery trail in their path that makes Jungkook shiver. And when you slide your thighs further apart for him, innocently at first, he can’t help it when his lips freeze on yours as you slowly roll your hips upwards. It gives him the same automatic reaction he had gotten at the club, all the blood rushing to his cock instantly, except this time he doesn’t feel the shame he had felt before. There was no ulterior motive to what you were doing, sincerity shown in your confession, shared within each kiss, so Jungkook allows himself to bask in the want he feels for you.

“Y/N,” he groans out when you repeat the action, pulling away from your swollen lips to stare at you through hooded eyes. You’re licking your lips over as your eyes slowly open, a small glimmer evident in them as you tilt your head and pretend to not know what you’re doing.

“What?” you question, leaning up to kiss the edge of his mouth, giggling when he attempts to chase your lips as you pull back, choosing to kiss down his jaw instead. As your tongue gently trails along the side of his neck, you feel the harsh gulp he takes, his fingers bunching up in the sheets beside your head. His neck has always been a weak point for him, turning him into a puddle in seconds, you knew this from the unfiltered conversations you’ve had and it was something you were definitely going to be using to your advantage.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he grunts, eyes fluttering shut as you nip at his skin, a visible shiver racking through him.

“Of course I am,” you hum, letting your hands roam his back, sliding around his front until you’re sneaking past the white fabric of his shirt. When your cool hands meet his skin, he tenses, the muscles on his stomach tightening up as your fingertips trail up his body. You’ve known Jungkook was well defined, lean and toned in all the best places, having seen him shirtless a few times. But being able to touch him like this, feel each stuttered breath and jump of his skin reacting to your touch fueled you.

Jungkook knows you can feel the racing of his heart now, your palms flat on his chest, each thrum revealing his emotions despite the cool and calm exterior he was trying to have. His hips lower towards yours, resisting the urge to rut into you as you start to suck on his skin. The low hum you let out vibrates against his neck, mixed in with the feeling of your wet lips, and he knows he’s done for. The final blow comes in the form of you swiping your tongue at the blossomed hickey, sweet voice pulling him back to earth as you look at him once more. “I want you Jungkook.”

Oh god, he couldn’t do this. His face pulls into a grimace, begging himself to not instantly cum in his pants at what you just said. How many times has he fantasized about this? Hoped you’d beg him for anything in that same exact voice, dreamed of you kissing and sucking on his skin like you currently were. Jungkook isn’t sure any amount of mental preparation would be enough for this.

“Say that again please.”

You giggle, finger pushing back a strand of his hair as it falls over his face, tucking it behind his ear. The normal doe eyed look you were accustomed to is nowhere to be found, pupils blown out in lust as he stares at you. Being on the receiving end of this stare fills your stomach with butterflies, the flapping of their wings intensifying as he nudges his nose into yours.

“I want you.” It’s breathless, spoken so softly through the background noise like a personal secret just for him. Jungkook doesn’t think he’ll ever grow tired of hearing you say it, that much is proven true when you repeat it in between kisses, trailing back up his neck in the same path you had taken until you're speaking the words directly against his lips. He swallows them down greedily, groaning into your mouth when his tongue tangles with yours once more.

“Fuck, you can have me baby.” He chuckles against your mouth when you start to tug at his shirt, yanking the thin material until he has to pull back and slip the tee off himself. The balled fabric gets tossed aside without a care, dark swirls of ink on his arm fully revealed now, each tattoo reminding you of how long you’ve known him, remembering the two pieces that he had when you first met. When he leans back over you, taking his time trailing kisses down your neck, onto your chest until his own hands are slowly tugging your shirt off of you, you decide there’s other things to focus on besides his glorious tattoos.

“Ah, Jungkook,” you sigh, fingers tangling into his hair when he kisses the swells of your breast, warm tongue sliding over your nipple before his lips are wrapping around it. His large palm gropes the other, thumb flicking over the pebbled bud, smirking when you push your chest further out for him.

“What baby?” He pulls back to blow a gust of cool air on your nipple, the wetness of his saliva making your skin break out into goosebumps.

“No teasing.”

Jungkook’s laughing now, eyes peering up at you through his lashes. “Oh, you think I’m not gonna tease you after what you did?” He tsks in disapproval as he continues to kiss down your torso, letting his hands trail down your sides, not stopping until he reaches the hem of your shorts. A kiss is placed above your navel as he pulls the shorts down your legs, toying with the waistband of your black underwear. “I’m gonna take my time with you.”

The build up before pleasure will always be your favorite part. The way his hands grip your thighs after tugging your underwear off, fingertips trailing up until his palm is pressing them further apart. It’s impossible to look at him now, the visual of his long hair framing his face as he starts to press wet kisses on your skin is too much to handle. You can feel the warm huff of air when he laughs as your head drops back onto the pillow once more, eyes slipping shut while you wait with anticipation.

Jungkook wants to comment over how wet you are already, boost his own ego about being able to rile you up with just kissing, but he can see the way you’re already on edge, and he decides he can tease you some more later with what he has in store. Instead, he gives you what you’re mentally pleading him for. Finally pressing his soft lips to your folds, the short gasp you release as his tongue glides up before gently flicking across your clit has him shutting his own eyes, reveling in the way you react to his touch.

His long fingers spread out your folds before he’s messily spitting onto them, watching the way the glob of saliva trickles down before he’s diving in, falling into the perfect pace with ease. It has your hips rutting up instantly, your hand uncurling its grip from your sheets to travel down your body and find its place tangled in his hair. Jungkook groans against your clit when your fingers grip tightly, yanking the dark strands as the prettiest moan flows out of you.

“J-just like that, fuck,” you whimper, finally lifting your head up to stare down at him when he latches his lips around your clit and sucks. It sends a spark down your spine, stomach tensing at his rhythm, fully intent to have you fall apart.

Jungkook wants to push you over the edge, knows he’s talented enough to get you there in record time—he was cocky in the best way—and the way your thighs tremble as he slowly sinks his finger into you proves his point. The slick coating your entrance allows a second finger to slip through with little resistance, a shuddering breath filling the air as he begins to spread his fingers apart, stretching you out in the most delicious way.

It’s not until his fingers curl up, rubbing along the sweet patch inside of you and you moan out his name, that he realizes he has you right where he wants you. He can’t get himself to look up at you, to see the way your jaw drops as you plead for more. Jungkook knows if his eyes lock with yours too soon he’ll be too weak to be as cruel as he wants to be.

The pleasure blooms inside you, hips rolling up into his in a way he welcomes, smirk spreading onto his lips when your moans get breathier. He eats you out with determination set in his brows, not satisfied until you’re tightening around his fingers, thighs threatening to close in on either side of his head. The messy way he slurps against you sends you reeling, rutting up into him with need, the wet thump of his fingers blending in with your moans of his name.

“God, Jungkook, I’m gonna cum.” He believes you, eyes finally opening up to stare at you. The visual is enough to make his cock throb in his pants, your glassy eyed stare locked onto his, chest rising and falling in time with each choked breath. When he playfully winks at you, your walls pulse around him, seconds away from being pushed over the edge, and that’s when he pulls away.

The warm glow of your orgasm approaching, just about to crest, gets ripped away from you instantly. It makes you gasp, thighs twitching as your hips attempt to push up back towards his mouth, but he’s having none of that. His shiny lips smile up at you innocently, head tilted to slowly kiss your trembling thighs, chuckling at the small cry of frustration you let out.

“You taste good baby,” he hums, smooching the skin at the juncture of your thighs, circling around your clit without relieving the pressure you felt. The dull ache has your fingers releasing his hair in defeat, a frown etched onto your lips.

“Jungkook, that’s mean,” you pant, sitting up and resting on your elbows to properly stare at him.

“A little, but you deserved it don’t you think?” Jungkook didn’t want to tease you too much, he just wanted to get even for the past two weeks. “You could have had me between your thighs every single night if you would’ve said something soon, so I think you can be patient.”

A firm kiss is pressed to your swollen clit and it makes your whole body shudder, your head dropping back as you take a deep breath to control yourself. “I can’t be patient Kook,” you whine, head leveling back out to give him the most convincing stare you can muster. There's that crease between your brows that he likes when you pinch them together, hands gently raking through his hair, teeth pillowing out your lower lip as you bite down onto it.

“Please, you can torture me later if you want but not now.” Your words have him cocking up his brow, hands once again gripping the meat of your thighs before he crawls back up your body. The feeling of his chain dragging up your skin has you shivering, breath catching in your throat when he hovers inches above you once more.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth before his hand slips between your thighs again. A groan reaches his ears as his fingers circle your clit, covered in your arousal and his saliva, gliding with ease as he works you back to your ruined orgasm.

His lips find yours, swallowing down the moan you let out when he quickens his pace. You can taste yourself on his tongue, tangling with yours with more urgency than before, messy and desperate in a way that had more arousal gushing out of you. The earlier pleasure reignites inside you, your hands sliding around his neck to keep him close, kissing him with fervor, quiet moans and whimpers slipping past between each smack of your lips.

“Jungkook,” you barely manage to squeal, a few more flicks needed to finally push you over the edge. Your lips are slick with spit as you pull back, jaw slack as you lose yourself in the feeling, and Jungkook easily bookmarks this into his brain to go back to and daydream of whenever he’s bored at work. Your eyes are squeezed shut as the feeling flows through you, not able to see how Jungkook stares at you in awe.

“Holy shit,” he whispers, slowly pulling his hand away when you keen at the sensitivity, thighs twitching on the sheets as the pleasure rolls through you in waves. You’re looking up just in time to see him slip his messy fingers into his mouth, tongue licking them clean and savoring the taste of you. Just as he slides them back out, your fingers wrap around his wrist and lead them directly into your mouth, sinking onto them with your eyes locked on his own.

Jungkook’s cock jumps in its confines when you suck, tip of your tongue circling his fingertips before popping them back out with a smirk. There’s a brief moment of shock on his features before he’s jumping into action, quickly unbuttoning his jeans in haste that left you giggling on your sheets.

“What happened to patience?” you tease, laughing harder when he pauses with one foot stuck in the hole of his jeans, a playful glare thrown your way.

“Oh, now you want patience?” He kicks his pants the rest of the way off, slowly shuffling towards you as he stands beside the bed in just his boxers. Your hands make grabby motions for him, reaching for the waistband of his underwear to tug them down, licking your lips over as his cock springs out. It bobs in the air for a second, thick and heavy, precum collecting at the tip with the prettiest veins on the underside of it. Of course Jungkook and his pretty privilege would have a dick worthy of leaving you speechless.

Jungkook allows you to ogle at him, confidently wrapping his palm around the base of his cock, hissing slightly at the sensation as he looks down at it, allowing spit to accumulate behind his lips before a string of it escapes and lands right onto his length to help the glide of his palm. Your eyes widen at the sight, hand replacing his as he guides your motions, giving an experimental squeeze and enjoying how his abs tense up.

“I’ve been patient for a long time Y/N. You said you want me right?” You’re nodding instantly, eyes looking away from his shiny length to stare up at him. “How do you want me?”

“Jungkook, just get over here.” He doesn’t resist when you let go of his cock, hands gripping his arm to yank him back onto the bed in a clumsy heap. His legs are a tangled mess, nearly ramming his forehead with yours from the force, shared laughter filling the air as you situate yourself. Jungkook had pictured this a thousand times and this is exactly how he imagined it, full of soft kisses, hushed laughter and goofy smiles, playfulness mixed in with lust all coming together perfectly to make the two of you.

As he settles between your thighs, your sodden folds inches from his length, you can see the look on his face as his eyes glance in between both of your nightstands. Already knowing the question that was about to spill out, you beat him to the punch. “You don’t need one, if you don’t want to. I’m on birth control, and haven’t been with anyone since…” you trail off, not needing to specify.

Jungkook tries not to look too excited, really, but it’s hard. Every one of his lewd fantasies had involved being able to feel you entirely, and if your thoughts from that night were anything to go by, you definitely want the same. It takes him a second to speak, having to swallow properly to prevent himself from choking on his saliva and embarrassing himself in front of you. “I’m clean, I promise.”

“I trust you,” you smile, biting down onto your bottom lip as he fists his cock, slowly leading it to your dripping center. His free hand rests on your inner thigh, softly palming the skin as the head of his cock nudges against your entrance, pushing past the tight ring of muscles and into your heat. With his gaze locked down to where you connect, he sees inch by inch sink into you, finally bottoming out with a shared gasp.

Jungkook leans over you properly now, hand sliding up to lace with yours as the other rests beside your head, just taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of your velvety walls wrapped tightly around his cock. You welcome the stretch, the curve of his length inside you, how he cages you in with his body, eyes full of want staring directly at you, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze because he knows he can’t properly form a sentence right now.

“Fuck me, please.” With his hips pressed flush against yours, he’s slowly inching back, letting you get used to his size with each thrust. It doesn’t take long before he’s rearing back entirely, thrusting forward with a wet squelch, corner of his lips curling up into a smirk when you moan out his name. Your hand curls around his shoulder, fingers digging into his back to keep yourself steady from the force of his hips.

Each time the head of his cock would nudge against your bundle of nerves, your nails would sink into his skin, leaving half moon indents that left him groaning in pleasure. Jungkook hadn’t outright told you, but it had become increasingly obvious that he has a slight kink for pain, practically mewling above you as you scratch his back, fucking you with more determination than before.

“You feel so good,” he rasps, slotting his lips with yours in a messy kiss. The back of your headboard starts to rattle against the wall, bouncing back in time with his hips, and it brings you back to the filthy thoughts you had before. How often you’d hear the same sounds on the opposite side, mixing in with the sharpness of skin connecting together, and you want it. So badly.

“J-jungkook,” you breathe out, letting him pepper more kisses onto you, hips never slowing down. “Can you do something for me?” The tone you use, coated in sugar so sweet he couldn’t say no even if he wanted to.

“Anything.”

It’s hard to concentrate on anything else while his cock continues to fuck into you, turning your mind into mush each time he sunk all the way in. He can see the way you try to focus, eyes falling shut with the cutest pout on your kiss swollen lips, finally grabbing onto the reigns of your mind as you spit it out. “Wanna feel you—fuck—spank me, please.”

Only then do his hips slow down, cock throbbing inside of you, fighting the urge to cum before fulfilling your request. The only confirmation that he was agreeing, wholeheartedly, comes when he pulls out of you, moving too quickly for you to protest at the loss of contact. The room spins for a second as his hands grip onto your hips and flip you over with ease, palms gripping the globes of your ass and softly patting them with a chuckle.

“Of course baby,” he murmurs, hooking his arm underneath your stomach to haul you up onto your knees, allowing you to steady yourself before he’s sliding into you once again. The change in position has you keening, his cock sinking deeper than before, the wetness dripping out of you helping him maintain the earlier pace he had. Your hands fist the sheets beneath you, back arching in ecstasy as he hits your g-spot with precision, a tiny shriek of his name making him smile.

Jungkook keeps you on edge, strong hands gripping the skin of your hips tightly, mouth dropping open while he pants at the way you pulse around his cock, leaving it coated in your slick. His hand slides down to your ass, a gentle touch being your only warning before he’s pulling his hand back and delivering a swift slap to your skin. Your reaction is immediate, an unrestrained moan sounding like music to his ears. The sharp sting spreads directly to your core, your head bowing forward as you mentally beg him for more, your wish being granted seconds later when he repeats it on the other side.

If the wet sounds of his cock fucking you weren’t filthy enough, the added slap of his palm across your ass definitely topped it off. Jungkook had never seen you so needy, thighs coated in your arousal, gushing around him each time he spanked you until you were creaming his cock. The greedy way your walls suck him in, wanting him closer, deeper than ever, left him mesmerized.

His hand soothes the dull throb on your skin, a trembling breath reaching his ears as he leans over your back, lips kissing up your spine up until reaching your shoulder. Hot pants of breath hit your skin, making you shiver as his lips trail along the edge of your ear. “Feel good?”

“Y-yes,” you mewl, voice trembling from the pleasure, rutting your hips in time with his.

Jungkook’s way of love was a breath of fresh air for you, rough enough to exhilarate you, the force of his hips leaving you scrambling for purchase to prevent you from face planting onto the sheets, gripping onto your hair and tugging it back with enough force to make your body tingle. But it was intertwined with adoration, sweet praise whispered into your ear, lacing his fingers with yours to let you feel secure.

“You’re never getting rid of me baby,” he groans out. The low rasp in his voice makes you tremble, neck straining from his grip in your hair but the burn feels too good to pull away. His small confession has your heart skipping, eyes slipping shut to bask in the overwhelming feeling surrounding you.

“Good,” you manage to pant, “would never dream of it.” After four years of friendship, the beginning stages of getting to know each other, figuring out the right ways to flow with your different personalities, it's all out of the way now, so it’s incredibly easy for you to picture a steady future with him. The breakfast gossiping, shameless club outings, chaotic game nights with snacks thrown at each other, you want everything you already have with him and more. What you have, so rooted in sincerity, built off mutual respect for each other, blossoming into love so pure, you can’t imagine having this with anyone else.

“Y/N,” he gasps, the pulsing of your walls bringing him closer to his climax. “I’m close.”

You can only hum in agreement, burying your face into your pillow when he releases the grip he has in your hair, nipples rubbing against the sheets in time with his thrusts, the sensitivity sending sparks throughout you. Both his hands grip your hips again, dimpling the skin as he quickens his pace, the tantalizing roll of his hips intent to send you over before him. His eyes trail over the curve of your back, how you arch it further to feel more of him, sliding down to your ass, seeing the way it bounces back with each snap of his hips, how you weakly rut back onto him, pussy clamping around his length as your orgasm approached.

Jungkook slides his hand around you, trailing across your tummy before slipping between your thighs to the spot you needed him most. Even with your face buried in the sheets, the moan you let out is loud enough for Jungkook to hear perfectly, body shuddering as he flicks across your clit in tight circles.

“Kook, I’m cumming—fuck,” you shout out, white heat enveloping your body as you get sent over the edge. Your mind blanks for a minute, the intensity of your orgasm crashing over you so suddenly, making your limbs tense up while every nerve ending lights up. The only thing you can think of is him, chanting out your name while you pulse around him, sweet words coaxing you through your high, thumb rubbing along the skin of your hips as he never slows his pace.

As he fucks you through it, groaning out at how tight your walls are around him, you have to turn your head to gasp in a breath, face feeling hot from it all. You can feel how sweaty your skin has become, the back of your neck feeling sticky as your turn to get a glimpse of him, body still shuddering from the aftershocks.

Jungkook doesn’t have a care for his own volume now, moaning unabashedly as he pistons his hips into you with less grace than before. The soft mewls of overstimulation you let out just bring him closer to his release, thrusts getting sloppier as the pleasure takes over him.

“Fuck, baby-” he grunts out, mouth dropping open as he moans even louder, finally falling apart. He pushes further into you, head falling forward as his hips press flushed against your ass, warm spurts of his cum filling you up in a way that fulfills your dirtiest fantasies. A few more shallow thrusts has the two of you gasping, hearts pounding in your chests, coming down slowly as he finally stills.

A serene silence falls over you, the movie long turned off in the background, only the low glow of the television letting you know it was still on. With great hesitation, Jungkook finally pulls out of you, gulping when he sees the thick globs of cum spill from your core, dripping down your thighs before landing on the sheets in a sinful mess. Your sheets are well and truly ruined, Jungkook would honestly suggest tossing them in the trash judging by the damp spot directly beneath you.

With a small groan, you’re flopping fully onto your stomach, thighs no longer able to keep yourself up, the exhaustion creeping up on you. Jungkook chuckles when he hears you, soothing your back with a gentle massage. “You’re not sleeping in here babe.”

“Why not,” you slur, cheek pressed against your pillow, eyes already shut. All you wanted to do was lay here, preferably with his arms wrapped around you, but Jungkook clearly has other plans.

“Because it’s disgusting,” he laughs, giving you a few more seconds of rest before he’s moving around. The dip in the bed lets you know he’s gotten off, one eye peeking open to search for him, seeing him gathering his belongings from the floor.

“Where are you going?”

He shimmies back into his clothes with a grimace, gathering your own items before approaching you once more. “We are going next door and sleeping in my totally clean bed, c’mon.”

You only put up a fight for a second, secretly enjoying the way he helps you get dressed in your earlier clothes, heart swelling in your chest at how domestic it all feels. The mess in your room would have to be dealt with another day, the only important item being the ice cream that finds its way back into the freezer as you both head out of your apartment and swiftly enter his next door.

He’s just as delicate and careful in the shower, taking turns cleaning each other, large hands gripping your ass and giggling like a child when you wince at the small throb of pain you feel. Soft kisses are shared under the showerhead, warm water soothing your body as the room fogs up, sweet confessions scribbled on the glass in his messy writing, topped off with a heart. Jungkook stops you before you can wipe it away, shyly telling you that he’d like to see it reappear the next time he showers.

His bedroom was one you weren’t too familiar with, used to lounging in his living room the most, so as he settles into his bed after getting cozy in his pajamas, you wait for him to call you over before joining him. The coolness of his sheets has you sighing, snuggling into his side with a smile on your lips, one that Jungkook sees as he stares down at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead. Seeing you draped in his clothes, cuddled up beside him in a way you’ve never done before, makes him feel like a giddy teenager.

“Can I be honest?” he wonders, arm wrapping around you to pull you even closer to him. When you hum in confirmation, he laughs sheepishly. “I thought you were going to friendship dump me today.”

“What, why?”

Your head bobs up as he shrugs his shoulders. “The way you were acting reminded me of the last time you told me you wanted to focus on your relationship. I was just scared I was going to lose you again.”

The tone he uses makes your heart ache, the same guilt you felt these past few days coming back when you put yourself in his shoes. You had no idea that the way you were acting would affect him this way, never once imagining that he thought you would cut off this friendship while you were just coming to terms with the fact that you harbored strong feelings for him.

“Jungkook, I’m sorry,” you sigh, palm resting on his chest, feeling each beat of his heart, no longer racing like before, confident and steady in it’s pace because he knows you’re not going anywhere. “I’m stupid, and freaked out after what I did, and just needed to gather my thoughts before saying anything.”

He cranes his head away from you, a confused look on his face. “After what you did? What did you do?”

Fuck.

“Uhm,” you start with a strained laugh, refusing to look up at him out of embarrassment, but the truth has to come out so you power through it. “So, the night of the date, I sort of got home earlier than I told you I did.”

His eyes narrow at you, refusing to give anything away before he knew where this was going. “Okay, go on.”

“And I sort of heard you through the walls.” You look up at him now, your guilty stare spelling it out for him. His eyes widen before he can conceal his surprise, cheeks warming up instantly because oh boy, he knew exactly where this was going. “And then, I sort of...joined.”

“You lied to me!” he shouts, shocked smile on his face as he recalls the way you had replied to his texts, telling him you had just gotten home and going the extra mile to say you were in a totally different room when in reality, you were sprawled out in your bed after just getting off to the sound of him.

Filthy. And also kind of hot. Jungkook was definitely into that, something he’ll totally proposition you into doing again because why not.

“I know! I couldn’t help it, it was so hot, and I felt so guilty. But, you’re technically the reason why my orgasm gave me my epiphany and let me realize I really do like you. So, I think I did us both a favor by being a dirty liar.” He’s laughing instantly, fingers gripping your cheeks to turn your head up, planting a firm kiss onto your lips obnoxiously.

“Alright, you’re forgiven. Plus, consider us even because I have definitely heard you getting off on your own plenty of times too.” A squeal of surprise fills the air as you swat at his chest, burying your face into his shirt and feeling the rumble of his laughter. It really wasn’t ever intentional. The walls are thin, you weren’t exactly quiet, and he couldn’t just lay there and ignore it. So call him an opportunist, or a pervert, because you were one too.

Jungkook is cheeky though, knowing how to get under your skin in the best way, and you can already tell you’re in for a ride when he gets close to your ear and whispers, “You wanna show me how you did it?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you snort, peering up at him with mischief in your eyes.

“You did say I could torture you later.” He smiles innocently, fingers pinching your chin as he kisses you again. “It’s later.”

The sweet laughter that escapes you makes his heart skip a beat, still not able to come to terms that this was happening and wasn’t some dream of his that he’d wake up from. He kisses the tops of your cheeks first, then your nose, before reaching your lips, his hand gently caressing your skin. Jungkook had no intention of torturing you tonight, knowing how tired you typically were after work on a normal day, and after drawing two orgasms out of you that left you shaking, he knows how close you are to sleep with the way your eyes droop.

“Aren’t you glad you didn’t give up on crushes and love?” he mumbles against your lips, inching back to stare down at you.

“I’m glad I stopped looking for it in the wrong places.” Your hands wrap around his neck, toying with his hair before pulling him back to you, reattaching your lips because you just couldn’t seem to get enough of him.

Every single moment you shared, from moving in and awkwardly trying to get to know each other, the ups and downs of failed relationships, the push that started it all at the club, and every almost moment in between brought you full circle to right now. There probably won’t be a moment where you don’t wish you had done this sooner, worked past your worry of ruining a good friendship in fear of what could happen, but the past helped mold you into who you are, strengthening your relationship to be the way it is now.

Right now had you thinking of the future, and there was nothing more exciting than that.

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