#idol jk x oc

[foxymoxynoona]

My Matryoshka: Coming August 22

Banner and linebreak by @awrkives

Book 3 of The Secret Song Series

Idol JK x Russian-American OC

Summary: Jungkook and Sasha are grateful for the newfound stability of their relationship as careers seize the spotlight. Sasha has a thesis to focus on in a hostile academia environment. Jungkook is eager to share his maturing identity with the fans, the world, and his hyungs. But with so much looming change, it's easy to feel like the golden days have already passed. Can they be enough for each other through it all? And really, who could have predicted what one little full sleeve tattoo would cause?

Rating: So Very Explicit

CW: explicit sex, alcohol, recreational drug use, mental health issues, unhealthy coping mechanisms, diet/weight/appearance pressure, references to/healing after child abuse and sex trafficking, anxiety, depression, PTSD, queerness and identity, unhealthy past relationships, abusive parents, alcoholism & addiction in loved ones, harassment (sexual and non-sexual), celebrity scandal, enlistment, public sex, anal sex, oral sex, masturbation, porn, marathon sex, explicit photos & videos, period sex, drunk sex, sex toys, probably more things I'm forgetting

[justarkive]

TABLE 3 | JJK ch13

“For good service, and cute waitresses.”

pairing: pre!military jk x waitress/secret fuckbuddy!oc

Before Jungkook enlists in the military, his life takes an unexpected turn when he visits a local restaurant with friends and meets a waitress who doesn’t recognize him. Surprised by your lack of star-struck reaction, Jungkook finds himself drawn to your down-to-earth nature, especially his previous struggles with the pressure of constant drama on social media regarding his relationships. Little do you know, Jungkook is about to leave for the military, which inevitably bring’s complications to their connection… do they find a way to fix it?

warnings: profanity, angst, humour, fluff, celebrity au, idol!jungkook , mentions of other kpop groups/idols, inner conflict, insecurity.

chapter contents: the concert basically

wc: not that long today guys

this fic is not meant to represent the real jungkook or any other characters mentioned!

taglist: @jenniebyrubies @dreamersparacosm @darklove2020 @rayyrayy10 @elinaki92 @alana4610

a/n: guys.. shes gonna find out soon prePARE, i have a super freaky chap for ch14 tho heheheh

masterlist | <prev | next>

The room hums with quiet anticipation, a stark contrast to the electrified chaos beyond the thick pane of blacked out glass separating you from the crowd. The concert hasn’t even started, but the energy is suffocating in the best way���like a tangible thing pressing against your chest, stealing the breath from your lungs.

Thousands of fans sway beneath you, an ocean of bobbing lightsticks glowing like tiny fireflies against the darkened arena. The synchronized chants ripple through the air, vibrating against the walls, the kind of devotion that makes you feel small in the grand scheme of things.

Jungkook’s world.

You take a slow breath, steadying yourself against the weight of it all. From here, you can see everything—the towering stage, the blinking screens, the way the crowd moves as one, like a living, breathing organism fueled by a collective love for one man.

A man you just spent the last hour tangled up with in his dressing room.

Your cheeks burn at the thought.

“Ugh, when is he coming out?” Nari groans beside you, bouncing on the balls of her feet like a kid hyped up on sugar. “I need to mentally prepare. What if he starts with a sexy song? What if he winks at a camera? What if—”

She gasps, gripping your arm with enough force to cut off circulation.

“Oh my god, what if he makes eye contact with us? I��d simply pass away.”

You snort, peeling her off you. “From this distance? That’d be impressive.”

“I’d know. I’d feel it.”

Before you can tease her further, the venue plunges into complete darkness.

And then—

The first note hits.

Standing Next To You.

The bass shakes the floor beneath you, reverberating through your bones like a thunderous heartbeat. A collective scream tears through the arena, the kind that drowns out every rational thought, that makes your pulse stutter in your veins.

Then the stage erupts in light.

And there he is.

Jungkook steps onto the platform like he was made for it, like every inch of him belongs under this spotlight, in front of this roaring crowd. Dressed in the same outfit from earlier, just less… disheveled, his silhouette is sharp against the flashing strobes, the effortless way he commands attention sending a shiver down your spine. His voice cuts through the speakers—low, powerful, intoxicating.

You forget to breathe.

Nari? Nari is losing her mind.

She grips your wrist so tightly you think she might actually dislocate it, but you barely register the pain because Jungkook is right there, moving with a grace that should be illegal, his body fluid like water as he sinks into the choreography. Every step, every shift of his weight, is calculated perfection.

“Oh my god,” Nari wheezes. “He’s so hot.”

You don’t respond. You can’t.

Because somewhere between the flashing lights and the deafening cheers, you forget yourself.

Forget that you were supposed to record. Forget that you were supposed to take mental notes for later teasing.

You just… watch him.

Completely enthralled, completely immersed, like you’re seeing him for the first time.

It’s different like this. Seeing him on stage, watching him slip so effortlessly into the version of himself that belongs to the world. This is the Jungkook that people scream for, the Jungkook that trends online, the Jungkook that fills entire stadiums.

And yet—

The way he smiles, the way his eyes crinkle just slightly when the crowd sings back to him, the way he playfully flicks his mic cord during a dance break—it’s still him.

Still the same Jungkook who sends you voice notes about tripping over speakers. Still the same Jungkook who steals bites of your food when he thinks you’re not looking.

Your stomach twists at the realization.

You don’t get much time to dwell on it because Jungkook disappears off stage for a quick outfit change, and Nari immediately collapses against the couch like she’s been through battle.

“I’m sweating,” she pants, fanning herself. “This is illegal. He needs to be stopped.”

You scoff. “You literally went silent when he performed that ballad.”

She glares at you, pointing an accusatory finger. “That’s because I didn’t know the song. Do you know how embarrassing that is? I just had to stand there and pretend to be emotionally moved.”

You bark out a laugh. “You should be emotionally moved. It was beautiful.”

She rolls her eyes, throwing a popcorn kernel at you.

Before you can retaliate, the stage lights up again, and Jungkook reemerges in a completely different outfit.

Nari nearly falls off the couch.

It’s a simple fit—loose jeans, a white top that clings to his torso in all the right ways, and leather jacket- but somehow, it makes things worse. He’s glowing, his skin dewy from exertion, his hair slightly damp, the sheer confidence in his posture making it clear that he knows exactly what he’s doing to everyone watching.

“Yeah,” Nari breathes. “I’m not making it out of this alive.”

Neither are you.

He performs a few more songs, each one sending the audience into a frenzy, until finally—

The final set.

Magic Shop.

Jungkook steps down onto the floor around the pit, close enough to the fans in the pit that they could reach out and touch him. The screams become deafening, a high-pitched, overwhelming wave of emotion, and for a moment, you just watch.

Watch as he takes his time moving through the crowd, stopping to interact, accepting gifts, sending playful winks and waves while singing. He’s happy. You can see it in the way his face lights up, in the way he soaks in their love like it’s the very thing keeping him breathing.

And suddenly—

You get it.

You understand why he loves this, why he never lets the pressure crush him. Because this isn’t just a performance. This is connection.

A give and take of energy, of passion, of something bigger than all of you combined.

Jungkook lifts his mic to his lips.

“Sing with me.”

And the crowd does.

The sound of thousands of voices blending together fills the air, echoing through every corner of the venue. It’s overwhelming, almost surreal, the way they know every word, every beat.

Even Nari, who fumbled through the last ballad, belts this one like she’s been rehearsing for months.

You laugh softly, nudging her. “I see you.”

She huffs, clutching her chest dramatically. “Bitch this is Magic Shop, how do you not sing?!”

The song swells, reaching its climax, and Jungkook closes his eyes as he sings the last note. The lights dim, the final echoes of the melody lingering in the air before everything fades to black.

Silence.

And then—

The arena erupts.

A deafening explosion of applause, of screams, of pure, unfiltered love.

Jungkook just stands there, taking it all in. From your seat, you can see the way his chest rises and falls, how his fingers curl slightly at his sides, like he’s grounding himself in the moment.

And then, slowly, he tilts his head back.

And smiles.

Not the polished, camera-ready smile.

A real one.

One just for himself.

One that makes your heart ache in a way you don’t quite understand.

And for the first time, you realize—

You’re in trouble.

Big, big trouble.

Because you’re falling hard.

And you don’t think there’s any stopping it now.

Jungkook’s still on stage.

The music has faded, the last echoes of his final song swallowed by the deafening cheers, but he refuses to leave just yet.

Instead, he lingers, mic in hand, sweaty and out of breath, flashing that stupid, heart-stopping smile as he waves to the crowd again. And again. And again.

The fans lose their minds every time.

Nari groans beside you, flopping dramatically against the couch. “Bro. This is the longest goodbye of my life. It’s like watching my aunt say ‘we should get going’ and then proceed to stand at the front door for another thirty minutes.”

You roll your eyes, but your lips curl at the edges because… she’s not exactly wrong.

Jungkook paces from one end of the stage to the other, bowing, blowing kisses, throwing finger hearts—every single thing making the crowd scream like it’s the first time they’ve ever seen him move. And he soaks it in, grinning like a kid who just got told he could stay up past bedtime.

And you?

You find it endearing.

It’s one thing to watch clips online, to see the carefully edited, polished versions of his concerts, but to witness it live—to see how much he loves this, how much love he’s getting in return—it’s something else entirely.

He’s not just an idol.

He’s someone’s comfort, someone’s safe place, someone’s everything.

And, god, the effort they put into these concerts? The sheer detail?

Right on cue, fireworks explode into the night sky.

Bright, dazzling bursts of color rain down over the stage, perfectly timed with the last note of the outro music. The stadium lights shift into a golden glow, casting everything in a dreamlike haze. Fans hold up their lightsticks in sync, the entire crowd moving like waves, still chanting his name even as the show officially comes to a close.

It’s beautiful.

Breathtaking.

And then—

“Oh my god.”

You turn just in time to see Nari clutching her chest like she’s having a religious awakening.

“Bitch.” She grabs your arm. “We just saw that for FREE.”

You blink. “…Yeah?”

“For FREE, Y/N.” She looks at you, eyes wild with disbelief. “We got to see all of that, for free.”

You snort. “I mean, yeah, but—”

“You better give him some SLOPPY-”

“NARI, SHUT UP.”

She cackles, tossing her hair over her shoulder like she didn’t just ruin the profound moment you were having. You smack her arm, but she only giggles harder, running her fingers through her hair as she checks her reflection in her phone camera.

Meanwhile, you glance around, taking in the afterglow of it all.

Some fans are crying, clutching their lightsticks like lifelines, wiping their faces as they try to process what they just witnessed. Others are giddy, snapping final pictures, capturing the stage even as the crew starts packing things up. A few linger, unmoving, just existing in the space a little longer, unwilling to let the magic fade just yet.

And you get it.

Because same.

Your phone buzzes in your lap. Then again. And again. And—

You look down.

Jungkook [11:23 PM]: im so fuckin tired

Jungkook [11:23 PM]: im buzzing rn that was so good

Jungkook [11:24 PM]: did u like it??

Jungkook [11:24 PM]: be honest. was i sexy. i need to know

Jungkook [11:24 PM]: are u going home?

Jungkook [11:24 PM]: yk what nvm im sending someone to get u stay where u are

You blink, rereading the messages three times before turning to Nari.

“…He’s sending someone to get us.”

She gasps, slamming her hands on the table. “TAKE ME TO THE AFTERPARTY.”

⸻

A knock at the door breaks through the lull of post-concert exhaustion.

You exhale, grounding yourself in the sudden calmness that has settled over the room. Nari groans beside you, already stretching like she just ran a marathon. The snacks you both devoured—and quite literally, there’s barely a crumb left—are scattered across the low table. You make quick work of cleaning up the mess, wiping your hands and brushing off your outfit before heading to the door.

The second you open it, you’re met with a familiar face.

It’s the same security guard from earlier, the one Jungkook sent to retrieve you before the concert started. His expression remains unreadable, but he gives you a curt nod, stepping aside to let you and Nari follow him.

The walk back feels different this time.

Earlier, there was anticipation, nerves, the surreal weight of being here. Now, after everything you’ve seen, it’s something softer. There’s a strange sense of familiarity settling in your bones, as if you’ve just witnessed something deeply personal, something most people only dream of seeing up close.

The moment you step into the main room, you’re hit with the scent of sweat, cologne, and hairspray.

Jungkook is in the center of it all—shirtless, breathing hard, his chest rising and falling as stylists fan him down, dabbing at his skin with towels. He’s drenched, dark hair sticking to his forehead, jaw slack as he tries to catch his breath. There’s a rawness to him like this, something untamed, a stark contrast to the perfectly controlled performer you just saw on stage.

And yet, somehow, he still looks unreal.

Nari, ever the dramatic one, collapses onto the nearest couch with a heavy sigh, already pulling out her phone. She’s probably going through her camera roll, reliving every moment, but you made sure to tell her explicitly not to post anything from the private room or anything with you in it.

She didn’t even argue—just nodded, knowing the risk.

Meanwhile, Jungkook turns, his head snapping in your direction the second he senses you.

And then—

He runs.

You barely have time to process before he’s bounding toward you, eyes wide with excitement, feet light despite what must be sheer exhaustion weighing him down.

“Did you enjoy it?” he asks immediately, not even giving you a chance to say hello. “Be honest—was I good? Was I hot? How was the sound? The lighting? Did the crowd energy reach you? Did you—”

“Breathe, Jungkook,” you deadpan, raising a hand to stop his verbal onslaught.

He just grins, out of breath but absolutely buzzing, before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a tight hug.

You stiffen slightly, surprised at the sudden embrace. “You saw me, like, two hours ago.”

He doesn’t let go. “Still missed you.”

Your eyes roll, but your lips twitch despite yourself. “You’re so dramatic.”

And then— The smell hits you.

Thick, heavy, very much post-performance sweat.

You make a face, shoving at his shoulder.

“Gross.” Teasingly.

Jungkook pulls back just enough to smirk at you, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Aw, what? You don’t like it?” He leans in slightly, as if he’s going to purposefully get sweat on you.

You shove him again. “Jungkook.”

He just laughs, rubbing a towel across his face before tossing it to the side like a heathen.

You clear your throat. “So… what are you doing after this?”

At that, his playful energy dims just slightly. He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck. “Dinner with my dancers.” His voice is casual, but there’s something uncertain in it, like he wants to say more. His tongue darts out, wetting his lips before he finally adds, “I don’t know if—”

He doesn’t finish, but you already know where that sentence is going.

Your stomach sinks a little, but you push past it, offering him a reassuring smile.

“It’s okay,” you say, voice light. “I get it. The risk. Plus…” You nudge his side playfully. “I don’t wanna be a third wheel? or anything.”

Jungkook visibly relaxes at that, his shoulders losing their tension. And then he just… smiles.

Not a teasing one, not a cocky one. Just soft.

Pure.

“Some of them will probably come in soon,” he murmurs, nodding toward the door. “You can meet them.”

You hum in response, but neither of you move.

Instead, you just look at each other.

The noise around you fades—the stylists moving about, Nari typing away on her phone, the distant chatter of crew members wrapping up post-show duties.

None of it matters.

Because Jungkook is standing right in front of you, sweaty and exhausted and beaming, and for some reason, neither of you are looking away.

There’s something lingering between you, something unspoken.

And for the first time tonight, you don’t feel overwhelmed by it.

You just let it be.

——

Jungkook doesn’t get to linger by your side for long.

The moment his stylists return, they descend on him like vultures, tugging him away with an exasperated, “Alright, starboy, time to get some post-show content.”

He groans but doesn’t fight it, allowing them to shuffle him toward the backdrop set up in the corner of the room. He’s swapped his stage clothes for something much more casual—baggy sweatpants, a loose graphic tee, and a beanie pulled low over his damp hair. Even in his most chill fit, he somehow looks effortlessly cool, the kind of cool that should be illegal.

The next few minutes are spent watching him pose with banners, throwing up finger hearts, flashing his usual post-show peace signs. He does a few short videos, thanking the fans, bowing deeply, and even throwing in a goofy little dance that makes the staff laugh.

Meanwhile, you and Nari are just… watching.

“This man is still working,” she mutters, shaking her head. “I would have clocked out the second I left that stage.”

“He loves it,” you murmur, watching as he gives one last playful salute to the camera before waving them off.

Before you can say anything else, the door swings open, and in walk two of his dancers.

You recognize neither of them.

The first is a stocky, shorter guy—Asian, slightly thicker in build, hair damp with sweat. He walks in with the kind of energy that says he’s exhausted but still vibing. The second is tall—a lanky white guy with long hair tied into a ponytail, his sharp features relaxed into an easy, post-performance expression.

Jungkook lights up instantly.

“Yo, bro!” he calls out, throwing an arm up in greeting.

The shorter guy—who you assume must be one of the main dancers, based on the way Jungkook goes straight in for a handshake—daps him up, nodding. “We did great, bro.”

Jungkook grins, his face still slightly flushed from exertion. “You killed it, man.”

The other dancer steps in, clapping Jungkook on the back. There’s a brief interaction—Jungkook grins, gestures something exaggeratedly with his hands, and the guy nods, despite there clearly being a bit of a language barrier.

You have no idea what they’re saying.

But you’re content just watching the scene unfold, seeing Jungkook so effortlessly relaxed with his team, his people. There’s an ease to him here, a natural camaraderie that’s easy to admire.

Eventually, they all settle onto the couch, with Jungkook sprawling comfortably, head tipping back against the cushions.

Meanwhile, you sink back into the seat beside Nari, exhaling as you both fall into an easy conversation. The stylists begin packing up their equipment, quietly chatting among themselves as they wrap up for the night.

The TV mounted on the wall replays some of Jungkook’s performances from earlier, a highlight reel of his best moments—his vocals soaring effortlessly, his footwork precise, his presence larger than life.

It’s different seeing it on screen after experiencing it live.

Nari nudges you. “I still can’t believe we were there for that.”

You shake your head in agreement, gaze glued to the screen as Jungkook’s recorded self executes a particularly clean turn, hair whipping just right, sweat glistening under the stage lights.

Ridiculous.

Time slips by, and before you know it, the room has mostly cleared out.

There are only a few people left now—the last few stragglers of his team winding down, finishing up their tasks.

And then, suddenly—

Jungkook is standing in front of you again.

You blink up at him, caught off guard.

He tilts his head. “How are you getting home?”

Before you can answer, Nari pops up beside you with the biggest yawn.

“Uber,” she mumbles, rubbing her eyes. “I’m so fucking tired.”

Then, as if remembering something, she perks up slightly. “Oh! But, damn, that hotel you booked for us? So fancy. I can’t wait to get into those expensive-ass sheets.”

Jungkook snorts at that, but then his expression softens just slightly.

“Stay safe, okay?” His voice is quieter now, more genuine. “I’ll call you later.”

You nod, offering him a small smile. “Okay.”

But then, suddenly—

He shakes his head. “No, really.”

You blink.

Jungkook’s eyes soften, his voice dipping even lower, sincerity dripping from every word.

“I appreciate you.”

The air shifts.

You open your mouth to say something—anything—but before you can even think, he leans in.

And kisses you. On the lips.

It’s sudden. Warm. Familiar.

And yet—

You’re still flustered. Again.

You should be used to this by now. After everything you’ve done, everything that’s happened, a simple kiss shouldn’t leave you speechless, shouldn’t make your heart trip over itself like it’s never been here before.

And yet, here you are.

Jungkook pulls back with a grin, clearly knowing the effect he has on you, but before you can even glare at him for it, he pulls you into a hug.

It’s brief. Easy. Comfortable.

You swallow past the lump in your throat, before finally stepping back.

You wave toward his dancers in the back, offering a polite, “Bye, guys.”

They nod back, offering their own goodbyes.

And then—

You turn to Nari.

She is shaking.

You don’t even have to ask.

The second you make eye contact, she grabs your arm, barely containing the absolute meltdown brewing inside her.

And yeah.

You get it.

——

Nari is out cold.

It took a whole twenty minutes of her religious skincare routine—each step performed with the precision of a surgeon—but now? Now, she’s sprawled on the bed, wrapped in the fluffiest hotel blanket, snoring like a damn freight train.

You knew she snored, but this?

This is something else.

You stare at her for a moment, lips twitching, before grabbing your phone and hitting record.

A solid fifteen seconds of evidence.

She’s going to hate you in the morning.

Satisfied, you finally drag yourself into the bathroom, exhaustion weighing on you like bricks. The hot shower soothes your aching limbs, washing away the remnants of the concert—the sweat, the lingering scent of stadium air, the gravity of the night.

By the time you crawl into bed, fresh and warm, Nari hasn’t budged an inch.

Still snoring.

You bite your lip, holding back a laugh as you tuck yourself in beside her.

And then, without really thinking, you pull out your phone and search:

Jungkook Golden On Stage live.

The results flood in immediately—clips from fans, fancams from every angle imaginable, highlight reels already edited with filters and slow-mo effects.

You click on one.

And suddenly, it’s like you’re back there.

The music, the lights, the raw energy—it all floods back, wrapping around you like a familiar warmth. Jungkook commands the stage effortlessly, moving with a presence that’s impossible to ignore. It’s him, but at the same time, it’s a version of him that feels untouchable, a version that belongs to everyone.

You scroll through comments.

Some are hyped, in full I just ascended to another realm mode.

But others—

“Still can’t believe I couldn’t go 😭 these ticket prices were crazy.”

“Manifesting tickets for the next one 🙏”

“Some of us will never see this live LMAO pain.”

You pause, staring at the screen.

You don’t feel guilty, exactly.

But something weird settles in your chest.

Because they’re right. The tickets were insane. Some people saved for this. Some couldn’t even dream of going.

And you?

You didn’t do anything to deserve this.

You didn’t fight for tickets, didn’t wait in virtual queues, didn’t earn your place in that crowd.

Jungkook handed it to you on a silver platter.

For free.

You swallow, turning your phone off before you can spiral any further.

You close your eyes, pressing your cheek into the soft pillow, letting out a slow breath.

And then—

A buzz.

Then another.

And another.

You don’t even have to check to know.

Jungkook.

Probably tipsy, probably spamming.

You almost smile.

Almost.

But you’re too tired.

You let your phone buzz in the background, the soft glow lighting up the dark room, while sleep tugs you under.

And the last thing you remember is the faint, lingering warmth in your chest—

Not guilt.

Not doubt.

Just something soft.

[girlygguk]

fame - jjk (two)

discontinued. pls proceed knowing i will not be updating the fic anymore 🥺 love you

pairing ; idol!jk x idol!oc.

synopsis ; aera; the main dancer in one of the biggest k-pop groups in the world, Siren. debuting in 2014, it was nothing but immense hard work and perseverance (and being on the absolute verge of disbandment), but she and the four girls that grew to become her sisters pulled through. they did it. now they're performing at some of the most significant arenas and stadiums worldwide. meeting a cheeky, flirtatious and annoyingly gorgeous fellow idol that threatens to break down every wall of protection she's built around herself was not part of the plan. her career has always come first, having sacrificed and jeopardised many relationships and friendships in her journey to debut. so why does this time feel different?

story warnings ; smut, explicit language, violent & possibly triggering scenes.

chapter warnings ; explicit language

word count ; 2200+

a/n: genuinely can't explain what their as i told you performance did to me. life. changing.

previous parts ; prologue | one | two | drabble1 | three | four | ...

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

♫ siren's performance song♬

☽ aera's stage outfit ☾

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

📅 MARCH 2016

📍MBC Gayo Daejejeon 2016

The members of Siren were huddled backstage, the audience's screams for the current artists performing blared in their eardrums. A bottle of water is being passed around their semi-circle, the girls clambering for a final spout of hydration as the time to infiltrate the stage nears. Aera fixed the microphone taped to her left cheek, a smile gracing her lips as she stared at their maknae that was currently jumping on the spot. "I'm so nervous," Ha-Joon cried out, her jumping in place developing into a stationary jog.

Moving towards the youngest, Aera began to copy her actions and jogged lazily in circles around her. They both couldn't stop giggling, and it wasn't until Nali bumped them softly with her elbow to gain their attention that they pulled to a halt. A stage director hurriedly worked towards them, ushering them with sweeping motions. "Let's go, girls; you're next!" He hollered, and they all but began sprinting in his direction.

The automatic stage door illuminated with their group's signature colour, and Aera's brow raised in surprise as she tried not to be shocked. Their company director barely splurged on stage decoration when they performed, usually apologetic to the girls as they often had to settle with the default decoration given to all groups. She brushed it off, figuring the music festival organisers had taken pity on them and given them some pretty lights or something.

The MC's voice blared over the speaker, announcing their group's name, and smiles covered the girl's faces when they heard sparse cheers in the crowd. Then, finally, the doors opened, and the lights dimmed slightly as they walked onto the stage. The intro to the song played over the speakers, and the adlibs they had recorded in their own voices echoed throughout the atmosphere. The audience clapped while they migrated into position and surrounded Hanna for the opening verse.

"Nunan neomu yeppeoseo. Namjadeuri gaman an dwo." Han-na sang sultrily, the movements of her members enveloping her as they revolved around their leader during her line. The girls floated around the stage as they sang, taking their moment in the limelight as they each stood forward while singing their parts.

Nali belted the last line of the pre-chorus, and Aera moved from the outer edge of their formation to the centre, their footwork aligning. The crowd erupted into high-pitched screams as her hand fell into her pocket according to the choreography, hips swaying with the beat, her other hand moving in figure eights around her waist. "Replay, replay, replay", Aera sang, their adaptation of the choreography not going unnoticed by the audience as they burst into cheers.

Aera's head snapped swiftly towards Grace as they transitioned into the next verse, and they both swapped positions, the rest of Siren dancing in unison as Grace moved to the centre and serenaded the crowd.

Joon had finished her line in the second chorus, and the girls had reached the bridge. The crowd was still going wild, cheering at their performance in glee, and it didn't help Aera's pounding heart as she sang her adlibs over Hanna's line. Her dance break was in the final chorus. Aera prided herself on not getting nervous when performing. She didn't break a sweat during their debut stages. She didn't even bat an eyelid during the final stages of their trainee debut elimination. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that this stage was different, that this performance of theirs could make or break their career. Siren had acquired a few, very, very few, dedicated fans that they could always count on to support them over the past almost two years since their debut. They just didn't know if they'd get another chance to perform at a place like this again, and she didn't want to be the reason they kissed that chance goodbye.

"—maeumeul badeul su eomneunji",Nali sang the final note of the bridge, and the lights flickered; the other members of Siren maneuvering backwards as Aera sprung to the front. The instrumental remix blared through the speakers surrounding the stage, and the audience erupted into the loudest screams the girls had ever heard. The enhanced instrumental that Han-na had spent an entire day perfecting bounced off the walls as their main dancer fell to her knees in part of the choreography. Gripping her hair, she hit the ground on the beat, and her fellow members fell to their knees in unison. Feeling the vibration of the music through the stage, Aera lifted her upper body and rattled with every beat. The audience chanted on every offbeat, and Aera made sure to jolt her hips in motion with their screams.

Hanna slammed into the chorus at the instrumental break's end, and the supporting girls stood as she sang. Aera leaned back, her thighs flat against her calf, positioning her feet on the ground and lifting upright without using her hands. The crowd was going ballistic, and she almost let her smile peek through but refused as to keep her stage persona active. The five girls twirled into a line, leaning over each other as they harmonised on the last chorus, Ha-Joon leading it vocally.

Moving into a triangular formation, the members of Siren started to shuffle back and forth while they hummed the outro, a tribute to the original Replay choreography, and they relished in the cries of the crowd as they spotted the familiar moves. "Jinsildoen sarangui maeumeul", Aera sang the song's final line as the members fell into their ending pose.

Loud cries flared from the crowd as the last syllable left her lips, submerging the noise of her and her sisters' heavy breathing. Aera's chest heaved as she looked around the audience while they jumped and applauded. A few moments passed, and Hanna was the one to snap the girls out of their daze, standing straight and grasping the hand of Nali, who was on her left. The rest of the members followed suit and conjoined hands, giving the audience a bow and big gummy smiles before yelling back thankyous as they jogged backstage.

Han-na held the curtain once the members had made it down the stairs to exit the stage, and they barrelled through, jumping up and down in exuberance. Aera and Ha-Joon were caught in a playful punch-up, trying to exert some of the exhilaration coursing through their bodies after performing.

Five heads turned to the left, vision fixating on the same stage director from earlier approaching them. He had just finished ushering another act onto the stage that Siren had just dismounted, and it wasn't long before he reached them. "Amazing job, girls, you killed it! This way, we need to get you seated." He praised, clipboard in hand as he used it to wave them toward the stools perched along the edge of the stage. A unanimous cloud of shock blew throughout the members, not realising they were organised to watch the rest of the acts perform tonight.

Han-na recovered first, nodding in gratitude and leading the flock as she followed the man clad in black attire, the rest of her members following hastily behind. They looped through the equipment and workers backstage until they reached a side door leading to an area with seats set up in bunches parallel to the stage. Aera's eyes widened a fraction of an inch as she spotted so many familiar and famous idols already seated, whose gazes were transfixed on the artists' mounting the stage.

The director was in front, leading them past the rest of the groups to get to their assigned seats. The members of Siren were in awe, bowing to every single person as they passed, receiving cheesy smiles and bows in return. "Well done!", "Hwaiting!" and various other soft praises filled their ears as they migrated through the walkway, making Aera suddenly worried about not choosing the water-proof version of her mascara.

They reached the brightly coloured seats and chimed a chorus of "gamsahabnida" to the stage director as they situated themselves. Aera swore she heard a subtle "cute" being muttered to her right, and as she turned, her breath caught in her throat. There, sat confidently on her right, were the five members of Shinee, their godly features causing the saliva in her mouth to dissipate. Losing all her ability and sense of sound, she could only continuously bow in her chair with wide eyes and raised brows. The laugh of Taemin caught the attention of the rest of Siren, and when their focus turned to the right, Nali's loud gasp echoed throughout the tiny shared space. Following their leading dancer, the girls looked like lunatics bowing in unison, elatedly greeting their seonbaenims.

"You guys were awesome. Better than the original." Taemin cheesed, the rest of his group nodding in delight as they watched the gob-smacked women furiously shake their heads.

"Never. Never." Ha-Joon croaked, still taken aback that a group that she and her sisters idolised were even attempting to converse with them, let alone compliment them.

"We're honoured that you chose to cover one of our songs. You girls are so talented, truly. Hwaiting", their leader spoke with sincerity and a breathtaking smile, and that was the knot on the noose for Aera. The spotlights in the stadium started to flicker green, blue and white slides spreading over the stage screens, and it took the ear-piercing screams of the audience to shake Aera out of her daze.

Making a mental note to profusely thank the gorgeous men to her right and maybe wail a long speech about how she idolises them and loves them dearly later; her focus is now on the stage in front of them as the following group piles on. The audience, and even many idols, were going crazy before the act had even sung a word, and it didn't take long for Aera to realise why—watching as the six men instantly took over the entire room. Her eyes scattered around them, confused about who to focus on. She did not have control over her vision when they fell to their knees. She couldn't stop staring at the guy in the middle, the large orange J on his sweatshirt blinking back at her.

She knew of BTS; of course, she did. All her sisters and, without a doubt, everybody in this room knew BTS. Aera was a dancer, and J-Hope and Jimin were some of the greatest dancers in their industry. She fucking knew who they were. She admired their journey, struggle and story, knowing they worked extremely hard to get where they are now and deserve every loud, god-awful screech in this stadium.

Her eyes fixated on J-Hope; watching his seamless and perfected movement on stage satiated her inner-dance self. She tried not to lose focus, but her eyes trailed to the stupid orange J again and again. She watched as the scruffy brunette serenaded the crowd, earning himself cheers and cries that weren't helping her fixation whatsoever. He slid across the stage, executing every line and every move with confidence like he knew he had the gaze of everybody in the room.

Jimin moved to the centre, his blonde hair swaying as he grooved along to the music, the rest of his members following suit after a beat. Aera exhaled as she focused on the blonde in the middle, dancing along to the song in her seat with her sisters. The dance break was sultry and addicting, and the girls clapped along with the crowd chanting 'BTS' wholesomely.

It was when Aera finally settled and could watch the other members for once when orange J looped through to the centre. She cursed as her eyes focused back on him like they had been waiting for it all along. "—nan hangsang jejarie", Jungkook polished their performance with a final note before spinning and dropping to his knees.

The crowd went absolutely insane, Aera almost lifting her hands to her ears before deciding against it and standing with her sisters. They cheered for the six members as they held their pose, claps and whistles floating throughout the stadium. She watched as they thanked the audience with big, humble grins before dismounting the stage. Aera's gaze never left orange J as she saw him glance towards the right, where she and the other idols were situated, but not letting his eyes reach the direction fully. Climbing to his knees, he joined his hyungs as they scattered backstage in glee.

"They just had to fucking go after us?" Asami snivelled, still clapping as she watched them disappear. Her members cackled, Han-na delivering a soft wack to her arm before sighing and nodding in agreement.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[solar-verse]

Masterlist

09: chapter eight

Idoljk x oc

Jia and Rian sat cross-legged on their leather couch, a half-eaten pepperoni pizza steaming between them on the coffee table. The TV flickered with some overdramatic dating show, the kind where the male participant gets to decide if he wants to continue with the supposedly love of his life and not throw the ball, or throw the ball and gets to go back home with all the money.

Jia nibbled at her slice, the grease staining her fingertips, before setting it down with a sigh.

"Are we really going to ignore the elephant in the room?" She turned to Rian, her knee bumping the pizza box.

Rian kept her eyes glued to the screen, pretending to be absorbed in the scene. "What elephant? Look, did you see how he threw the ball down, and she actually believed him when he said he loved her?"

Jia raised an eyebrow. "Rian. You said that exact same line two minutes ago."

"Oh." Rian shoved another bite into her mouth.

Jia exhaled through her nose, snatched the remote, and switched off the tv.

"Hey!" Rian choked on her pizza, pounding her chest. "I was watching that!"

"No, you weren’t," Jia said flatly, tossing the remote onto the couch. "And this is more important now Turn and Look at me."

Rian stayed stubbornly in place, her eyes fixed on the now-blank TV screen as if willing it to turn back on.

Jia’s fingers drummed her thigh. "Rian." A warning. "Don’t make me physically turn you."

With a sigh that deflated her entire body, Rian finally surrendered. She dropped her half-eaten slice onto the box and turned.

"Are you really not coming back to Korea with me?" Jia asked, her laced with concern.

"Of course, I am," Rian replied. "I have to go back, I need to see my family too."

Jia’s eyes narrowed. "Bullshit." She crossed her arms, the unspoken Are you kidding me? hanging between them.

Rian exhaled sharply and slumped against the couch. "I really don’t know, Jia."

The past five months had been grueling. They had poured every ounce of effort into their portfolio, drawing inspiration from the Victorian era but with a modern twist. Their collection, midnight reverie, featured intricate designs that blended timeless opulence with contemporary versatility. The centerpiece of their submission was The midnight bloom Choker, a unique jewelry piece with an interchangeable gemstone mechanism. Wearers could swap out precious stones to match their preference, and when exposed to light, the choker reflected celestial hues onto the skin, creating a mesmerizing galaxy-like effect.

When they’d won, Rian had actually cried. Jia had screamed so loud security nearly kicked them out.

Then came the gut punch.

Drum rolls please.

"The apprenticeship will be with Han Seora," Professor Evans announced.

Han Seora.

The moment Rian heard the name, she felt the color drain from her face. Jia, meanwhile, was barely holding back from jumping up and down in excitement. While Jia was buzzing with joy, Rian had to force a smile, masking the storm brewing inside her.

Jia’s gasp was audible. "THE Han Seora? The ‘Queen of asian Jewelry’ Han Seora?" She’d clutched Rian’s arm, her nails leaving half-moon indents. "We’re going to work with a legend!"

Rian’s smile had been glacial. "Yeah. Legend."

But Jia, even in her excitement, caught the shift in Rian’s expression. The moment their eyes met, she knew something was wrong. And that’s when Rian had no choice but to sit her down and tell her everything, her family history, the tangled connections, the reasons why working with Han Seora wasn’t as simple for her as it seemed.

Jia had been flabbergasted, staring at her, then at the wall, as if trying to process everything at once.

Did she ask Rian a million questions? Absolutely.

Did Rian even have answers to half of them? Not really.

Was Jia upset that Rian hadn’t told her sooner? At first, yes. But once she understood the gravity of it all, she let it go.

Now, a week had passed, and they were still trying to figure out what to do next.

Jia's fingers played with her rings. "Are you really going to drop out?" The question hung in the air between them.

Rian couldn't meet her eyes. "I'm thinking about it." she admitted.

"No." Jia's voice cracked. "Please don't. If you quit, I won't do it either.

"Don't be stupid," Rian said, shaking her head. She softened her tone. "You've dreamed about this since freshman year. Don't throw it away because of me."

"But this was our hard work, Rian. Not just mine. If I go alone, it’ll feel like I stole everything we worked for," Jia argued.

"Stop saying that," Rian sighed. "This is your work too. You deserve it just as much as I do."

A beat of silence. Then Jia's lips quirked. "Fine. Then I'm going to Korea with you to meet your family." At Rian's raised eyebrow, she added, "Besides, you know I'll get lost immediately. My Korean begins and ends with 'kimchi' and 'oppa.'"

Rian choked on a laugh. "Ohhh, so I'm just your human Papago app?" She threw a pillow at Jia. "I see how it is!"

"Obviously." Jia's grin turned wicked. "Also, you promised to help me flirt with hot Seoulites. 'Jeogiyo, oppa, you come here often?'" Her atrocious accent made Rian wheeze.

Their laughter faded too quickly. Jia's smile slipped. "Rian... just think about it. Please." Her foot tapped an anxious rhythm on the floor. "We're better together."

Rian exhaled, running a hand through her hair. "Alright... I'll see what I can do."

What she meant I'll call my father.

What she didn't say I'd rather face another all-nighter with broken pliers than that conversation.

And she better do it tonight.

Rian waited until Jia had gone to her room and fallen asleep before checking the time in South Korea. She needed to know if it was an appropriate hour to call her dad. When she saw that it was 8 AM there, she gripped her phone tightly and started pacing in her room.

Okay, Rian, you got this. Just open your phone and call Dad. Start with “hello” ,that’s the easy part. The rest will follow.

Oh, who was she kidding? She couldn’t do this.

She sat down abruptly on her bed, staring at her phone, opening and closing it multiple times. Please, God, give me strength. Despite wearing only shorts and a tank top, she felt ten times hotter, her skin prickling with nerves.

Okay, now or never.

Taking a deep breath, she opened her contacts and pressed the call button before she could chicken out again. The phone rang. A small part of her hoped he wouldn’t pick up. But then she heard his familiar voice.

“Hello, sweetheart. How are you?”

Rian swallowed. “I’m fine, Dad… Umm, how are you?”

“I’m good. Isn’t it late in London now?”

“Yeah, it is… I just wanted to tell you something.”

His tone shifted slightly. “What is it? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, perfectly fine,” she rushed to reassure him. “You know the competition I told you about at school?”

“The one where teams are picked for an apprenticeship under a brand?”

“Yeah, that’s the one,” she said, forcing a smile even though he couldn’t see it. “I called to tell you that Jia and I won.”

“That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you, Rian wait till I tell your mom about this.”

She laughed nervously. Okay, here comes the hard part.

“It’s great news, right?” her father asked. Then, after a beat of silence, his voice grew sharper. “Why do you sound like that?”

Rian hesitated. Her fingers dug into the fabric of her blanket. “It’s just… the apprenticeship would be in South Korea.”

There was a pause. “The brand’s headquarters are in South Korea?”

“Yep, Seoul to be precise.”

Another silence.

“What’s the brand’s name, Rian?” His voice was quiet but firm.

Here goes nothing.

“…Han Seora.”

The silence that followed this time was deafening.

“Okay.”

Rian blinked. “Okay?” What does ‘okay’ mean?

“Look, Dad, I told Jia she could go on her own, and—”

Suddenly, a beeping sound cut her off.

He had hung up.

“…Dad?”

Rian pulled the phone away from her ear, staring at the screen. Did he just hang up on me?

Panic bubbled in her chest. She quickly redialed, but the call went straight to voicemail. Who is he calling?

Collapsing onto her bed, she groaned into her pillow. She knew calling him was a bad idea. What was she even expecting?

“Sorry, Jia,” she muttered to herself. “You’re on your own.”

She made a mental note to teach Jia some useful Korean phrases before she completely screwed things up.

With that final thought, exhaustion took over, and her eyes drifted shut.

Rian woke up to the sound of her phone ringing. Without looking at the screen, she blindly reached for it, pressed it to her ear, and answered in a groggy voice.

"Hello?"

“Rian,” her father’s voice came through, calm yet firm. “I just wanted to tell you… do what benefits you. You’re not a little girl anymore, and as much as it pains me, I don’t want to interfere with your future. Even though you may not work under Han Seora in the long run, I admit that this opportunity will benefit you. It’s a high-end brand, and many people would do anything to work under them.”

Rian blinked, slowly pushing herself up on her elbow, trying to process what he was saying.

“So, from all of this,” he continued, “I just want to advise you to do what you think is best for your future, without worrying about my grudge. Okay, honey? Now, I’ll let you go back to sleep.”

Still half-asleep, all Rian could mumble was a bewildered, “Good night,” before hanging up.

She sat there, staring blankly at her phone as the weight of his words settled in. Did that really just happen?

Before she could fully process it, she noticed new message notifications.

One was from her mom, reminding her to pack heavy clothes because it was still slightly cold in Seoul.

The other was from her uncle, Haneul.

"If you’re not busy tomorrow" which means today, since it’s already 3 AM, "come visit me and Rebecca at our home. P.S. Bring my favorite sugar cookies from the bakery. You know the one and you own me because your father woke me up from my deep slumber."

Rian smiled at the message, shaking her head fondly.

Never in a million years did I think Dad would say that. Am I in an alternate reality?

She sighed, flopping back onto her bed and rubbing her face. Her brain wasn’t awake enough to analyze all of this right now. She needed sleep.

Pulling her blanket tighter around herself, she let out a deep breath.

But hey, looks like I really am going back to Korea. And now I’m officially Jia’s personal translator.

With that final thought, she drifted back to sleep.

[bts-0t-7]

Slithered | JJK | Chapter 3

Pair: Mafia Jungkook x F Reader 

Summary: Jungkook was wandering the streets in the middle of the night and coincidentally passed the little flower shop you work at. Due to your odd working hours, you don’t have much socialising on a daily basis much less customers. So just imagine your shock when a handsome man, clad in all black, entered your shop in the ungodly hours of the night. Never would you have thought that the polar opposite of the worlds would collide and cause such a trouble. 

Genre: Fluff, mafia au, soft reader 

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of rape incidents from previous chapters, PTSD

WC: 2405

< Prev. Series Masterlist. Next>

Jungkook trudged back to his room. After your incident two days ago, he refused to bathe in his own bathroom. It was bad enough that every morning when he entered, he was reminded of how much later he could have gotten in. Reminding him that if it wasn’t for Yoongi Hyung, you would have already been ashes in an urn by his bedside table. 

He had opened a search to find out your details.

Your address, your family, your friends, everything that they could possibly find. And as he read through the consolidated efforts of his men, there were just too many things that didn’t make sense to him. But he knew better than to ask you now. 

If you woke up, that is. 

Doctor Eun had warned them to not panic if they were to take longer to wake up. He had explained that your body was weak and needed extra time to recover from what you have gone through. But it did not stop any of his Hyungs from barging into his room every day, ensuring that they check up on you. It soon became somewhat of a routine as his Hyungs constantly took turns to visit you every hour. 

He threw his towel on the loveseat, walked over to push back the covers and slid under them. He then carefully adjusted the ruffled covers back over you, ensuring that they covered until your shoulders and still had more fabric as a leeway. 

With a tired sigh, Jungkook smothered his face on his pillow and fell asleep with the blanket only hanging at his waist. 

This was the second time you woke up in the same room. Lightheaded, you tried to get out of the bed. 

“Exactly what do you think you’re doing?” A voice sounded beside you. 

You turned, eyes blown wide as you anticipated the worst. The first thing you see is a head of messy hair, sticking in all directions before you notice the tired-looking eyes boring straight into your soul. The man lifted his arm and wrapped it around your waist, bringing you closer to the heat of his body. 

You acted, throwing a punch directly to his face. 

Bad move. 

The man on your bed - technically not yours but who cares for technicality now - caught it and pinned you down with a flick of his wrist. Burrowing his head in your neck, you saw the strains of his shoulders. He wasn’t completely let go of his weight so…

“Who are you!” You pushed him away, hand going to the bedside table, trying to find anything that could be used as a weapon. The man quickly hopped off the bed, drawing the curtains as you squinted at the sudden attack of light. The room was so dark you could barely see a thing before. It wasn’t until your eyes finally adjusted to the difference did you see the moonlight shining through the sheer curtains, casting a light glow on your frames. 

And it was also then did you realised who your bed partner was. 

Jungkook. 

The over-ecstatic bunny in the morning that refused to let you go. 

Jungkook must have seen the recognition in your eyes as he slowly walked back to the bed, hands in the air in a surrender position. 

"Hey, hey." Jungkook called out. 

You weren't sure how trustworthy the men in this house were. God, you don't even know their names! You curled up in a sitting position at the edge of the bed, almost falling over. When Jungkook sat on the bed, you instinctively scooted backwards, clashing against the bedside table. 

You squeaked in pain, holding your back, forgetting that there was nothing but the cold hard ground awaiting your downfall. Your eyes largened as you felt yourself falling back, hands flailing out, trying to grasp onto something - anything - 

Strong arms wrapped your waist and pulled you forward. Your face smashed against a toned chest as you felt the blankets beneath you being pulled downwards and wrapped around your body. For the next few moments, the only sound in the room was your harsh breathing. It was so silent that you swore Jungkook could hear your heartbeat. 

The both of you stayed in that position for a few minutes - or it could be hours or even just seconds - you didn't know. But you knew that the heat radiating from Jungkook's body was like a blasting furnace and you were warm. And when you are warm, you feel cuddly. And when you feel cuddly, you feel sleepy. Your eyelids grew heavier by the second and you closed them. You knew you shouldn't be so trusting but they have yet to do anything that caused you to feel wrong. Jungkook has yet to do anything that oppresses you. So you closed your eyes and leaned closer to him, cuddling deeper into his warmth and fell asleep. 

That was the last thing you remembered before you woke up again, but this time, in the arms of a toned-ass man.

Jungkook. 

Hell, now that the late morning sun is shining through the curtains, you are able to see what you weren't last night. Jungkook was without a shirt and the full glory of his slim waist and toned abs were fully on show for your innocent eyes to see. Well, you weren't that innocent. But you were still a lady - a woman - and you still had your needs that were obviously taken far too long to satisfy. But you weren't about to go imagining someone you can never get - you weren't about to hurt yourself again. 

You were brought out of your wandering thoughts when the soft snores exiting Jungkook's plush bow-shaped lips reached your ears. A small smile lifted the edges of your lips as you sleepily yawned. Wiggling out of his hold - for God damn he is strong as a bull - proved to be harder than it seems. Jungkook's arms locked you in place and you couldn't seem to get out no matter how hard you tried to prod and push him. 

"Mhmm, noooo." The man cuddling your back whined. "No, it's not time to wake up yet. Stop movingggg."

You didn't. Obviously. 

The hold on your waist only tightened even further. "Stoooppp."

You pushed his hands off of you. "Jungkook, please." You resorted to begging him out. "I need to wee."

Jungkook's eyes shot open, hands immediately leaving you as you took that chance to leap out of bed and bound over to the washroom. 

Jungkook swore he should've heard it wrong. Jungkook swore that he must have heard it wrong. 

Nobody explicitly told you who he is. Nobody had given you enough pointers to let you know that he was the one who saved you in that alley. Not that he needed you to know. But he didn't know - oh, he should've expected it - for you to have been so smart. You figured it out so quickly - who he was. 

Unbelievable.

But he needed to check. To know. To be sure - that what he heard was correct. 

He saw your dishevelled state coming out of the washroom, hands going up to scratch your hair. While he had a massive bedhead, your hair looked like it was shinier after sleep. Oh, how he wished that he could have that sort of blessing too. Then he wouldn't have to take so much time to wash and style his hair every morning. He could just get out of bed and leave. 

Your eyes made contact with his and immediately shot back down to the floor, suddenly feeling anxious. Your hands fiddled with the hem of his shirt as your teeth worried your bottom lip. Jungkook had to physically hold himself back from jumping right onto you. He wanted to take those soft, plump lips and give them a taste. He wanted to make sure they never get sore from you constantly biting them (Jungkook found out one of your habits now). 

Jungkook pulled on his restraint string and blew a deep breath out. He walked over to you, hands going down to grasp yours in his. He turned your hands over in his, admiring the size difference. It wasn't big but it was enough to make him almost coo out loud. 

"Hey now -" Jungkook started before your stomach grumbled. 

The silence in the air was permeating. 

Jungkook snorted, falling to the floor with laughter. By no means was he laughing at you. No, he was laughing at the situation - how your hunger had directly stopped him in the tracks of his confession. If anything, he felt like Jimin Hyung right now. He knew all too well how much he was always stopped in his tracks from doing things he best wished for for the sake of his job. But this was something different. 

Jungkook looked up with teary eyes and spotted your slight pout, making him laugh even harder. As he slowly got up from the floor, he extended out his hand to you. “Come on, let’s go and get something for your ever-hungry system.”

Jungkook did not expect you to actually take his hand, let alone hold it the whole way down. But who was complaining?

Oh, definitely not him. 

He led you to the kitchen and started rummaging through the fridge to find food. Finding a bag of opened buckwheat noodles, cucumber, seaweed flakes, eggs, and canned tuna, Jungkook decided to whip up a mean Memil Guksu (메밀 막국수). Jungkook whipped out Seokjin’s favourite pot and started boiling the water. After mastering the art of flourishing the noodles in the pot, JUngkook left them to boil as he combined all the sauce ingredients - soy sauce, tsuyu sauce, perilla oil, sugar, and roasted sesame seeds with a tablespoon of water. Then he chopped all the ingredients and placed them aside. After ensuring that the noodles are thoroughly cooked, rinsing them under cold water for a few seconds was a necessity. 

Placing them in the bowls, Jungkook topped the noodles off with the sauce, sliced ingredients, and tuna, garnishing them with extra sesame seeds and a handful of seaweed flakes. 

“Tada!” Jungkook placed the big metal bowl in front of you with chopsticks in hand. 

You chuckled at his enthusiasm. Jungkook didn’t wait for anybody before he dug into his meal. 

You had to admire this man’s spirit of trying to uplift you. Anyone could see that he was trying his best. But you didn’t know if you could. You felt… different - dirty. 

You wanted it off but you -

“Hey.” Jungkook’s voice jolted you out of your thoughts. “You okay? Maybe you don’t like the food? Should I have Yoongi Hyung cook instead? Or maybe Jin Hyung? Or maybe you’re allergic to -”

You placed a soft hand on his shoulder. “It’s not you… It’s just…” Your hands fiddled with the hem of the shirt. You weren’t sure if you should be telling him this. He had no obligation to you and you shouldn’t be using him as a free-range therapist too. But you were just so tired of dealing with it yourself. “It’s just… I feel so…”

You didn’t really know how to express it in words. 

Disgusted? Humiliated?

You felt the urge to scratch. 

You weren’t sure how he was going to react when you told him. He saw you and saved you, but everyone can change in the blink of an eye. You aren’t sure how he would react. Would he cast you aside? Leave you for the wolves? 

But on the other hand, why would you care? Why should you care? The both of you aren’t close. He saved you and now you can leave. So why do you feel so hooked?

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

You shook your head. “I want to. I just…”

Words won’t form. 

“Okay… How about you show me instead if there are no right words? Sometimes words can be difficult, right?”

You nodded. 

But how were you going to show him? Strip? 

You hesitated again. How? 

“The feeling - it -”

You tried to look at Jungkook, tried to gain some of his courage to say what you wanted to say. You worried yourself over him not accepting you but all you saw were open eyes. The windows were wide open like he was the one pouring his soul to you. 

“Dirty.” You tucked your head down again. “Humiliated. I feel so… so… nasty… It - I wanted to stop it but I couldn’t! I tried - I tried - I didn’t want to -” You cried out. “I - I -”

Large palms ran up and down your shoulder in a light, soothing manner. 

“Okay, I understand what you’re trying to tell me. I know, I saw.”

You placed yourself in his hold. “I tried but - but… I’m so tired I couldn’t.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything. He just held you, tightly and you were glad for the silent comfort. You didn’t really want words just a steady presence and Jungkook gave you all. You were crying - bawling - you didn’t know. All you knew was that you were finally letting go, sharing this with somebody else. 

You held the burden for long enough and you knew - you just knew - that you trusted him. A deep-rooted type of fear of being left in the dust again sits dormant in the pit of your stomach. But trust, you had - so trust, you believe. 

Your eyelids grew heavy as your breath evened out, you fought the urge to fall asleep again but the comforting soothes were too much for your tired body so you gave in. You swore this was the most you have slept in a really long time. With your schedules, you were grateful enough to even get past four hours of sleep.

Things will definitely take time to go back to how they were before the incident. Maybe you will never be how you used to be. Maybe this scar will never heal. But you knew that you would heal. This would will leave a scar that serves as a battle reminder - that you were strong and will always be strong. So as you let yourself lose in Jungkook’s arms, you knew that you could trust him. You didn’t know what life would throw in your path but you were certain that this man - and you, would stand for each other. 

Trust.

You were certain. 

Trust. 

[jenslvt]

Kim Aeri x Cha Woomin

OR

Kim Aeri x Jeon Jungkook

Which ship should I sail for my oc? Aeri already has an established relationship with Woomin. But I was planning to add a break up plot and it's final. And I was also thinking if there should be a future relationship between Aeri and Jungkook.

[awrkive]

summary: where you and jungkook are in a situationship and you kind of hate each other but the sex is great

wc: 2.8k

warnings/misc: idol!jk x producer!(fem)reader, they are mean to each other 😬, just.. weird dynamics tbh. explicit sexual content: unprotected s*x, multiple positions, cre*mpie, brief c*nnilingus

note: this is entitled "something" in my docs. i genuinely dk what this is but i read this and i was like. oh! okay! i think i had a vision so i want to share!! ik im not the #1 fan of mean jk or idol aus for that matter but the oc is equally just as mean so i kind of fw this tbh aishdixh. not proofread. sorry!

The surface of the leather couch is cold against your back when Jungkook pushes you to it – quite roughly, as if he has something to prove. 

And it definitely feels like it when he shoves your panties to the side once he’s situated on top of you – two of his fingers inserting themselves in your pussy without any warning. 

“Fuck, what’s gotten you so wet?” Jungkook hisses on the side of your head, pushing his slender fingers in your heat until he’s knuckles deep, buried to the hilt.

“I– oh fuuck,” your words get cut off with a moan when Jungkook starts rubbing your clit with his thumb, fast and erratic. 

“Yeah?” Jungkook says, a little mocking, squeezing your waist with his free hand, noting the way your heavy breathing fills the space of your studio. It’s dimly lit, just like you like it, and Jungkook knows there could be someone anytime that could walk by – the staff, his juniors, seniors, whoever – but it’s not your first time fooling around in your studio and it sure as hell isn’t going to be the last. 

“J-jeon—” 

“I’m just Jeon now?” Jungkook picks up his pace in your pussy, sliding his fingers in and out until you’re a panting mess under him, moans influencing his blood to travel to his dick that’s considerably getting bigger every second that passes by. “Come on, not even Jungkook? Kook? And there you were a while ago back at practice studio calling Mingyu oppa when he’s fucking barely older than you.” 

“Oh my god, shit— J-jung– it’s–” 

Jungkook doesn’t know exactly what comes over him, but he begins fingering you so fast he felt your wrist wrap around his own, and he could see a hint of tear drop from the side of your eye before Jungkook notices the way your thighs shake, a telltale sign of your orgasm. 

And he’s usually a giver. Always is, to be frank. Especially when it comes to you. Because as much as you infuriate him, you also look really fucking pretty when you cum – but this time, Jungkook feels a little petty. 

So when you say you’re about to cum just like Jungkook predicted, he abruptly slides his fingers out of your pussy, leaving you empty. 

“What the fuck—” he doesn’t let you finish, just uses his strength to flip you over the couch with his hands on your waist, and in swift motion gets you in all fours. 

“You don’t deserve to come before I put my dick in you.” 

Jungkook kneels behind you, takes his engorged cock out of his sweats, and enters your sweet, wet hole suddenly in an almost abrupt motion, hearing the way your breath hitch when the first inch comes into contact. 

“Oh god…” you moan at the delicious stretch, burying your face deeper in the couch as Jungkook begins entering you slowly.

It certainly isn’t the first time you’ve fucked without much prep. Jungkook always insists on an orgasm first before he pushes his cock deep into you while you say otherwise – but perhaps he’s most especially pissed at you tonight that he’s even breaking his own rules. 

You don’t really care, though. The burn feels delicious. It’s slow and it’s steady and you can just feel Jungkook holding out from slamming into you right away, his dick getting even bigger in you, every ridge crossing your inner walls.

His deep grunts and heavy breathing paired with your whimpers and moans bounce off the walls, and you’re beginning to think it’s one of the benefits of getting a studio soundproofed so you can fuck someone in peace in it. 

“S-so fucking tight—” Jungkook groans, sliding out slowly. The loss doesn’t last long when he enters you again, grabbing your hips tighter as he goes. “Is me fucking you almost everyday not enough, huh?” 

“You don’t fuck me everyday– ah,”

A hard thrust, one that feels a little punishing. It makes your legs shake, almost making you give out on your position. 

“Whose fault is that?” Jungkook hisses. Then, he speeds up again, and soon the sounds of skin slapping against skin filtrates the room. Jungkook jackhammers into you, and this time you’re more than sure he’s trying to prove something. 

“I’m not the– the– busier one–oh— between us.” You reaching out for something behind you – nothing in particular, but Jungkook takes your hand anyway, placing it on the small of your back and keeping it there is he slams into you again, repeating the motion over and over again until you’re near tears. 

It’s so good, and you’re so wet and you want to cum so bad.

You’re just about to whine for it when Jungkook suddenly changes your position again, splaying his hand around your stomach until all you know is that he’s manhandling you over the couch and he’s seated on the leather while you end up on his lap. 

Jungkook slides your top upwards until they’re halfway on your chest, expertly creeping up your back to unhook your bra, the flimsy garment falling down your lap. He doesn’t waste more time and maneuvers you a little to suck on your nipples, hands coming to your waist to start bounching you on his cock. 

You whimper at the simulation, hands grabbing his hair at the shock. There’s a mirror across from you that lets you see everything that’s happening, and you can’t help but let out a loud moan when you see the way his engorged head disappears in your pussy every time he pushes you down his lap, with his messy hair buried deep on your chest. 

You look a mess, with your skirt on the floor and portions of your ponytail breaking away from your elastic tie. But you help Jungkook anyway, holding onto his arm as you bounce up and down on him, pushing your shirt way up your chest until your breasts are free from the constraint of the fabric.

“You’re always so pliant when you’re on my cock like this,” Jungkook says as he bites your nipple. And it felt petty, together with his words. 

“Shut up. M-make me cum.” You hiss, grabbing his hair a little tight to make him look up at you. 

He does, but there's a smug smirk on his face. “You think you deserve it?” 

You arch a brow, despite feeling the tight coil in your stomach. “When do I not?” 

“Wrong answer.” Jungkook tsks, shaking his head. Your eyebrows meet, but you find it incredibly hot when he does that thing with his tongue in his cheek. “Wrong answers mean I get to come before you. So sit back and be a good girl for me, hm?” 

“Fuck off—” You’re interrupted by Jungkook giving a forceful thrust from down under, so powerful that it almsot knocks you off his lap. 

“Look at you, such a fucking slut. A gorgeous slut,” Jungkook says, cupping the side of your head and directing you to look in the mirror you were looking at just a second ago. Your breathing is heavy, and your boobs bounce the same time you go up and down on Jungkook’s cock at a quick, abnormal pace you’re literally running out of breath. “Pussy so fucking tight and tiny but you can always take my dick, huh? No matter how big it gets for you? Right, princess?” 

You whimper. “Don’t call me that.” 

Jungkook only smirks. “Oh, but you are a princess. Always whines when you don’t get what you want.” 

“I d-don’t– fuuckkk – I don’t whine.” you hiss directly to his face, glaring at him. 

He chuckles, dark and deep. His fingers begin to creep over your pussy, and soon he’s rubbing fast circles over it, and you want to bite back with an answer to get the last word – but the words die on your tongue when Jungkook changes the position again, roughly placing you on the couch, turning you to your side.

Jungkook grabs your leg and hook it on his shoulder, finds leverage on one of your ass cheeks and enters you from that position, jackhammering thrusts making you almost scream. 

It felt so deep, so close, and the stretch is almost godly. Delicious. The way Jungkook’s dick fills you up so good makes the tears form in your eyes, and you keep your eye on him as he pumps in and out of you, sweat already forming on his brows, abs clenching, veins popping out of his arms.

“S-shit–” Jungkook hisses, breathing heavily, a telltale sign of his impending orgasm. “I’m gonna cum. Shit, can I– can I cum inside?” 

You nod your head vehemently, grabbing your own chest at the sight of him to give yourself some form of relief. 

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans before he slams into you in and out, repeating the motion over and over again until his thighs shake. Pauses. Then, he takes his cock out slowly from you, and you look down to see the way Jungkook’s abdomen clench when he starts pumping his cock to shoot his seed into your hole. 

It’s warm on your pussy, a little cold when it begins trickling down. 

“J-jungkook, I want to—” 

“Shh, princess. You’ll come. Just wait a little.” he squeezes his cock for more, spurts of cum shooting into and onto you, and you feel like you could cry at this point. 

“Jungkook—” 

“Easy.”

He puts your leg down and you thought he was going to enter you again but he adjusts you on the couch, kneels down on the floor, and pokes his tongue out to taste you. 

“Oh god!” you gasp when Jungkook suddenly dives in, hungry and impatient, tongue eager to get everywhere all at once.

It happened so fast you don’t exactly know when you released. But when you do, you’re lax on the couch afterwards with Jungkook sitting beside you, massaging your breasts. 

“Kook… that’s enough.” you say, holding his wrist. 

Jungkook arches a brow. But he lets go. 

The post-coital momentum hits you the same. 

It’s always like this when you’re doing fucking. You pick up your clothes, and Jungkook starts dressing himself properly too. 

You comb your hair through your fingers, putting it back into a decent ponytail in the mirror. You see the reflection of Jungkook behind you seating himself on the couch. 

“You’re working tonight?” He takes out something in his pocket, a familiar small, pink electronic device. 

Your expression sours immediately. “Keep that shit away from my studio, Jeon.” Jungkook halts, arching his brow your way. You roll your eyes. “If you’re gonna smoke, do it with a real cigarette. Don’t be a pussy.” 

Jungkook snorts a scoff, but he tucks away the vape in his pocket back again, anyway. 

“You’re getting real creative with being hateful about my smoking. Careful, princess. I’m starting to think you wanna be my girlfriend.” 

You walk towards your swivel chair in front of the keyboard. On the screen is a song you’ve been working on for the past month, unfinished, with way too many versions of the melody. You can’t seem to figure out what fits best. 

You look back at Jungkook with a disgusted face. “You keep on mentioning that word. I think you want me to be your girlfriend.” 

He laughs, relaxed against the sofa, watching you from across the room. 

“I would’ve already asked you way before if I wanted that.” 

You pause. 

Huh. 

What a fucking asshole. 

“Sure. Keep telling yourself that. But you’re the one getting all worked up just ‘cause I called your bestfriend oppa when he's barely fucking older than me.” You quote him as a retort, throwing his words back at him, going back to your computer. 

“Did it flatter you?” 

You tried some notes on the keyboard, and again, it doesn’t feel right. Something's missing. Something's too much.

“No. Why would it? You’re a good fuck, I’ll give you that. But you’re not more than that to me.”

A few keys again. It felt way too… bright. The lyrics don't fit. Yoongi would know what to do with this track. But you can’t come to him again, especially after what happened a week ago. A drunk confession and a sober rejection, with the confession coming from you and the rejecting coming from Yoongi.

Now you have to act as if that didn't faze you. Hell is going to freeze over way before you show everyone you give a fuck about anything.

You don’t even notice that Jungkook hadn’t said anything to the last thing you said because it was just that quick for you to get holed in at work. 

Until you hear footsteps coming your way. 

“What are you working on?” Jungkook asks, gesturing to the whole equipment before you. 

“Songs.” you say, not really interested in getting into more conversation with him tonight. 

The sex was good, and you won't tell Jungkook this – it's unspoken anyway – but sex with him has always lessened your stress. Made you feel free, even just for a moment. Jungkook likes sex, and he makes sure to prove it to you everytime you do it.

“Wasn’t really obvious.” Jungkook sarcastically says.

You sigh at that, eyes focused on your screen. Clicking away at the software, trying out some keys again. The sound of the keyboard almost rings to your ears at this point.

“Jungkook, I’m working.” 

“I know. What? I can’t watch you? Yoongi always tells me it’s better if I watch how you guys work so I can learn a thing or two.” He shrugs, sitting in the available chair next to you. 

The mention of Yoongi makes you jump a little, something you hope Jungkook doesn't notice. When he doesn't say anything, you arch your brow at him.

“Why? Thinking of producing your own shit from now on?” 

You didn't really think that through. Just wanted to... say something. Retort. But you see that flicker of something unknown flash his face, and you know to yourself instantly that was a… low blow.

Jungkook had always felt… you don’t know, really. He’s just close off when it comes to his… own works. He almost doesn’t really mention them to you, even though that could be something you can talk about when you’re not trying to get in each other's pants.

“None of your business.” Jungkok says after awhile. 

You bite your lip. “Okay.” 

The room feels quiet until Jungkook breaks it.

“He’s planning to ask you out, by the way.” 

Without looking away from your computer, you ask, “Who?” 

“Mingyu.” 

“Oh.” 

“What are you going to say?” 

Your brows furrow. “Not sure. You’re his friend right? Is he a nice guy?” 

“You like nice guys now?” 

“Who doesn't?” you roll your eyes. “Maybe I’ll say yes.” 

Jungkook suddenly stands up, the chair scraping against the floorboards.

“Okay, well. Just tell me when you two start fucking, just so I know my health isn’t at risk here.” 

You look up at him incredulously.

“You know you’re such a fucking asshole sometimes, right?” He doesn’t say anything. You scoff. “As if you haven’t fucked anybody else since we started doing this.” 

“Who the hell else have I fucked, quickly?” Jungkoon furrows his brows. 

Shit. You’re confused now. The software is dancing in your eyes. Maybe it was wrong to get right into it after having sex; your brain's mush. And Jungkook's picking up a fight with you as fucking usual. You genuinely don't want to get into it right now.

“I don’t fucking know, Jeon. A random idol at some music show backstage? Maybe one of your fans? I really don’t care. As long as you tell me. ‘Cause I’m as concerned about my health as you are yours.” You say the words with a particular bite to it, making sure to look at him when you use your words against him.

“I haven’t been in any pussy other than your own uptight one for a long time, so good luck on that beef you have with an imaginary woman.” Jungkook spits out before he takes his keys out. “I’ll have dinner delivered to you ‘cause I know you haven’t eaten shit. Until then, I’m heading off. Just text me if you’re staying over at my place or not. I don't care. You have a keycard.” 

One you never used. Jungkook's aware of that.

You avoid looking at him. “I'm not.” 

“... Okay.” 

He leaves just like that.

You slump in your seat and shut your eyes close.

[onlyswan]

summary: in which for you, jungkook would commit crimes and his mother would peel oranges.

idol!jk x reader | fluff, angst | word count: 9.5k

warnings/content: oc passes out in the shower / jk does something crazy i’m literally insane about this / baby bam cameo 🥺 / stitches >:( / blood draw / mention of speeding / jealous not but rlly jealous oc is pissed owfffff at the nurse who has a crush on jk lmao / jk and his mom loves them to death tho so obv who wins / love is beautiful let’s all cry <3

> in which masterlist!

note: *sitcom sound effect of crowd cheering* I’M BACK 🥰 hope u enjoy the product of my madness during finals season hehehe. and special thanks to my cutieful proofreader rio!! you’re one of my most favorite people i’ve ever met 🥺💕 + my beloveds who came to the rescue when i had medical questions !! i didn’t expect to receive help from soooo many and i’m so freaking grateful i could cri :")

—

“i ordered it the other day. how did it arrive so early?”

jungkook walks back inside the apartment, arms occupied by a stack of boxes that arrived in the mail yesterday.

he arrives at the living room, head tilting to the side in confusion when he realizes that the netflix show he was watching on the television is no longer playing. instead, there is the news channel.

he gasps.

“baby, you’re alive!”

your swollen eyes flicker up to him.

you’re lying on the sofa with your legs lazily dangling on the edge. there’s a toothbrush in your mouth, foam of bubbles between your lips, but your arm barely exerts the energy to make it do its job.

“you were asleep from afternoon to morning. do you know that? you’ve never done that before!” he exclaims, carelessly tossing the boxes on the floor. “i was getting scared!”

you only hum to acknowledge his existence, pushing yourself up from the sofa and unknowingly dodging the hug your boyfriend wanted to greet you with.

he ends up collapsing face first on the empty space you left, hurt and offended.

the bathroom door opens and closes.

he flips over, whining. “yah, we didn’t see each other for a day. didn’t you miss me?!”

still not a single word from you. sleeping that long must not have cured your exhaustion, jungkook surmises. you tend to be glum and cranky when you’re feeling unwell, as is usually the case when you wake up as unrested as before.

he doesn’t always know how to make you feel better, but he always tries anyway.

“our new bedsheets arrived!” he announces from the other side of the bathroom door, making himself loud so that you can hear him despite the shower running. “do you want to unbox them with me?!”

he allows the seconds to pass, but with his hands on his hips, he eventually begins to tap his foot on the floor.

“baby? may i go in?”

he turns the knob, just to be prepared incase the answer is a yes, but it doesn’t turn. a sad pout forms on his face.

huh? why is it locked?

you must genuinely don’t want to be bothered today.

“guess that’s a no.” he mutters to himself before calling out to you. “okay, i’ll wait for you!”

with a crestfallen sigh, he begins to walk back to the living room.

he doesn’t go far, however.

only several steps later, a series of loud crashes is heard from the bathroom and his heart thunders in his chest with a combination of numbing shock and fear.

“____, what was that?! did you fall?!”

he aggressively pounds at the door, extremely desperate this time around. he has no plans on leaving until he knows that you’re safe and sound.

“baby! open this! are you alright…? are you hurt? you’re scaring me. please, answer!”

he pauses, catching his breath as his mind runs a thousand miles per hour.

“____!”

he strikes the door with an open palm one more time, more so to express his frustration that is only growing worse with every tick of the clock. he only ends up hurting himself in the process.

“that’s it! i’m opening the door!”

he frantically whips his head around, racking his brain for the location of the key. there are two copies of it somewhere in the apartment, but in his panicked state, he is unable to pinpoint either of their specific spots. and he can’t fucking afford to waste any more time.

“ah, fuck!” he curses, left with no other choice but to give in to the instinct of breaking down the door with the strength and durability of his body alone.

he would most definitely break his shoulder first before the door.

only after the first try, that much is clear.

and so, with madness inconsiderate of his agony, he resorts to kicking it over and over again.

the repeated loud collisions rattles poor bam from his slumber. not long after, the dog’s barking creates a booming dissonance with his grunts and kicks at the door.

when it finally swings open, the force of his own body sends him stumbling on the bathroom floor, but he doesn’t waste time in bouncing back to his feet.

the twisting of his stomach is instantaneous.

there lies your naked, unconscious figure behind the glass— surrounded by bottles of hair and body products that must have fallen when your hands were searching for something to hold on to.

his voice cracks, breathless.

“baby, no… no, no, no.”

he kneels on the floor, and despite the strong urge to carry you out of there, he tries to calm down. it’s the first rule in every emergency case; professionals reiterate in seminars and news channel segments.

keep calm. keep calm. keep calm.

he won’t be able to forgive himself if he ends up causing more harm than good.

“____, can you hear me?!”

his instinct tells him to inspect every inch of you for any sign of injury, but then his vision becomes too blurry. he curses at the hindrance and forces himself to turn off the showerhead that was left running.

he harshly wipes his face, rushing back to you.

“please, please, please. wake up.” he begs.

he has a feeling that it’s futile. you can’t hear him and he’s wasting his breath. the thing is he doesn’t know what else to do.

“baby…”

he carefully turns your head over, almost relieved because he hasn’t seen blood so far.

almost.

at last, he gets a full view of your face, and he finds blood dripping. this has always been one of his most paralyzing fears— seeing you get hurt. now that it’s become a reality, there’s a part of him that wants to believe this is some kind of twisted dream.

“how- how did this even happen…?” he cries out, his own blood running cold.

for everything that happens after, his body acts on its own. bam is a constant presence in his peripheral, but he is barely in his right mind to acknowledge the presence aside from, “bam, move. daddy might step on you.”

he carries you out of the bathroom, kicking aside the beaten up door. he has made up his mind about bringing you to the hospital, but he can’t bring you like… this.

he lays you down on the bed, all that gentleness switched off in a split second so he can sprint to the walk-in closet. he hastily grabs whatever is on top of your neatly folded stacks of shirts and pants; and then a fresh towel on the way out. the gentleness returns as he pats your face dry, the pure white stained with dark red. he flips the towel and uses the other side to wipe the rest of your body, in a race against time but mindful of treating you like fragile glass.

once that is over, he dresses you in a pair of gray sweatpants, and with some difficulty, an orange t-shirt.

any person with functioning eyes will be able to tell that the shades don’t go together.

if you were conscious, you’d definitely berate him for making you wear this outfit.

but you’re not.

jungkook effortlessly swoops you in his arms— dripping wet hair, his and yours, leaving behind a trail of raindrops from your apartment floor to the cemented parking lot.

—

your body feels like it’s floating.

are you dreaming…?

you must be dreaming.

you hear an uncoordinated symphony of voices, but you can’t comprehend a word. in pursuit of clarity, you force yourself to open your eyes.

the voices grow a little louder. faceless figures hover you; a bright light shines over your face.

your senses must be playing cruel tricks. now it feels like you’re drowning, sinking into the unknown, and your body has succumbed into numbing defeat.

you want to sleep a little more.

you must truly be exhausted. it’s okay.

you’ve fought hard until now. you’ve done enough… has anyone tried in life as much as you did?

just as your eyes flutter shut, you regain sensation of your hand; a soft squeeze and a call of your name.

—

jungkook gently strokes your hair, sighing for the nth time since you got transferred to a private room. he’s relieved that all the scans came back clean so serious head and brain injuries have been ruled out. the doctor also asked him questions and ran some other tests before concluding that electrolyte imbalance caused you to pass out; the culmination of stress and fatigue from work, as well as your strong period, most likely being the main reasons. he didn’t even know about the latter until you stained the white sheets with blood.

it was fucking frightening being in the sidelines as they rushed to check on your vitals and to administer oxygen. even now, it’s unbearable to see you with a needle in your hand and a few stitches above your eyebrow. he already anticipated you not being pleased with having to get stitches specifically either; gasping and sitting up as soon as you heard the word come from his lips post-consciousness. consequently, the dizziness hits you. the doctor wasn’t happy about that.

“this is so annoying. i don’t want a scar.” you whine as you study your face on the camera of jungkook’s phone. “did i have to fall on my prettier side?”

“what are you saying? you’re pretty from any angle.” he interjects. “be careful. the wound might open up.”

you jut out your bottom lip, looking up at him with glassy eyes. the sight instantly tugs at his heartstrings, and he pulls you in for a hug. maybe he’s a little sad that you don’t appear concerned about the fact that you passed out, but god is he relieved to finally hear your voice again.

“ah, i should call the doctor.”

but his face remains buried in your hair.

“they told me to do so.”

“you should-”

“why?!” he abruptly reacts, drawing back. “does anything hurt?”

“chill. you said that they told you to.”

“oh, that’s right.” he sheepishly smiles. he can’t help but to overreact; he hasn’t turned off the alarms in his head. “i’ll go tell the nurse to get her.”

he starts to walk towards the door, but a tug at his shirt holds him back.

you shyly look at him with a scrunch of your nose. “i’m nervous. hug me for five more seconds.”

fuck, he would move heaven and earth to protect you from everything that can cause you harm.

“why would you be nervous? i’m right here.” he scolds you lightheartedly, not hesitating to seize the chance to hug you again. “i love you.”

“i love you more.”

you pull away after five seconds, and he’d be disappointed about you being too true to your words if you didn’t kiss him on the cheek so ardently.

his heart almost jumps out of his chest when you gasp out of nowhere as if you just realized that you left the gas tank open at home. your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.

“bam!”

oh, right. your child.

“my brother’s house!” he eases your mind.

you breathe out in relief, the heel of your palm pressing against the left side of your chest where your heart lives. “good… i was worried. he was probably more scared because he didn’t understand what was going on. i feel bad.”

you love bam so much; it makes him so happy. you’re so concerned about him even when you’re the one on the hospital bed. you make pretty good parents, huh?

“that’s right. he was worried about you, too. that’s why you need to recover quickly so he won’t be sad!”

—

the doctor kindly asked jungkook to give the two of you some time alone, so he’s been idly sitting at the lobby after buying a bottle of water. he’s pretty much used to visiting the hospital for routine checkups considering the nature of his job, but it always feels strange to be here for the other different purposes of the place.

is there any other building sadder than this?

if you heard him utter this question, he could easily predict what you’d say: but is there any other building with more love?

if he tries hard enough, he could listen to your voice and paint you in his mind.

you see love in every place that you step foot into.

his curious eyes continue to wander around. he spots people carrying flowers, baskets, and containers of food. there’s also a teenage boy in his high school uniform, carrying a teddy bear larger than him.

not that he wants you to stay longer, but if you have to, he writes down a mental note to bring one of your favorite plushies.

he eventually gets tired; considers scrolling on his phone again, but he decides against it when his gaze lands on a little boy sleeping soundly on his mother’s lap. suddenly, he is reminded of his childhood before he moved to seoul.

how simple life can be when you’re innocently sleeping on your mother’s lap, trusting that everything will be alright.

“ah, i miss my mom…” he utters absentmindedly. “i miss my mom so much. i should call her.”

his reminiscing is interrupted when a wheelchair rolls by infront of him. it is leisurely being pushed by an old man who wants to bring his wife outside for some fresh air.

in a parallel universe somewhere, jungkook can imagine them as you and him.

he sits up straight, looking back at the clock on the wall.

how long has it been? he wants to be by your side again.

—

“jungkook!” your face lights up as soon as your boyfriend steps into the room. “what took you so long?”

“i know. sorry, baby. i got a little distracted outside.”

“i’ve been waiting.” you pout. “why? were people bothering you?”

“not at all. don’t worry.”

you pat the empty space beside you. “here.”

“i think the bed is meant for only one person- damn, okay, okay-”

he swiftly gives in upon seeing the hurt on your face, occupying the space you reserved for him. “i love you. don’t be sad.”

you’re aching too much to wait for him to get settled. you wrap your arms around his waist like you’re a magnet attracted to steel, clinging to him for comfort.

if you’re being honest, you don’t know how you feel about being in this situation. overwhelmed? maybe a tiny bit relieved. in the past, it didn’t matter whether you were sick or not. you needed to work or else it was guaranteed that you wouldn’t survive. life is easier now. you have the luxury to use this as a reason to take a break. you have someone who takes care of you as naturally as he breathes.

“how was the doctor?”

“she’s nice… she just asked me about the things i remember before i passed out. then about my work, diet, sleeping schedule… stuff like that.”

you pull away a little, just enough so you can see each other’s face. you squint at him suspiciously. “did you have to get an expensive room?”

he chuckles. “how did you know? they didn’t tell you that, did they?”

“i literally have the perfect view of the fountain from here!” you point at the large window behind you. “i just passed out. i would’ve been fine downstairs.”

“don’t say it like that. it could’ve been so much worse.” he says with knitted eyebrows, palm cupping the back of your head and caressing softly.

he heaves a sigh.

“i was so scared that you injured your head. seriously, i thought i’d go insane if i lost you! i went past the speed limit driving you here!”

the distress he was under is apparent. you can’t help but to be racked with the guilt. you always do this, making him worry himself to death. you don’t usually do it purpose, and that only makes you feel shittier.

“you’re right. i’m sorry.”

“well, i…” he sighs. “it’s okay. i know you didn’t want this either. it’s not your fault.”

you press your lips into a thin line. “it kind of is.”

your lost eyes meet, and a connection is established like it’s a constellation sending a secret message. your heart flutters when he giggles, dimples and starry eyes and crinkled corners.

“stop it. it’s impossible to scold you when you’re so cute and self-aware.”

“then don’t scold me.” you sniffle sadly to kindle pity in him. “i’ve had enough of it from the doctor.”

your brain still works well enough to help you escape from trouble. that’s a good sign, right?

“my poor baby.” he coos, cradling your cheeks.

his hands are warm. you put yours over them; a wordless signal telling him you don’t want him to go away.

“let’s not get hurt again, please. we need to stay healthy and take good care of ourselves so this won’t happen again, alright?”

you nod in obedience. your eyes are fixed on him but you’re not certain if you’re registering what he’s telling you in your pitiful, shaken brain.

“the hospital already did me many favors. if we go back, i might have to build them another fountain as a gift.”

and knowing jungkook, with his golden heart and his black card, jokes become half-meant.

“what do they need that for?!”

he bursts out laughing, yet again, after you chide at him for his ridiculous and unnecessary expenses.

“nothing, i’m just grateful! i was really so scared but i’m relieved now thanks to them. i can’t remember the last time i felt that way.”

“you’re not scared of a lot of things.” you point out.

“that’s right.” he agrees. “only you scare me these days.”

you grimace. “am i scary?”

“you are, sometimes.” he laughs, squishing your cheeks together. “but i mean the things that could hurt you.”

as if on cue, your stomach grumbles and bellows like a monster stuck in an empty cave. your eyes grow twice its size in bewilderment, which then morphs into embarrassment.

“my stomach hurts.” you say quietly.

your nostrils flare as jungkook miserably fails to hold back his laughter. one of his hands leave your face, rubbing your tummy over the thin hospital gown.

“oh no, what are we going to do? where does it hurt? here?” he pouts. “should we go feed you now to make it go away?”

“what is wrong with you?” you slap his shoulder in annoyance. “i’m not a baby!”

“yah, be careful!” he yells, wincing as if he is the one in pain. “be gentle with the one with the iv!”

—

“you know one good thing that came out of this?” you gush out of nowhere.

you’re mixing up the ingredients of your bibimbap bowl with a spoon and a pair of chopsticks.

jungkook noisily drinks the final sips of his banana milk. afterwards, he makes a game out of shooting the box in the trash bin.

“what could that be?” he asks, doubtful.

he sits on the chair beside your bed. you greet him with a delighted grin, licking your thumb stained with gochujang.

“you proved your love. you committed a crime for me.”

he gasps to humor you, body freezing as if he’s currently processing the newly-learned information in his brain.

“oh? you’re right- i did! and you know what? i’d do it again!”

with a mouthful of rice, you shake your head in disagreement furiously. “you’re cute. but that’s the first and last.”

“but how are you sure that it’s the first?” he raises an eyebrow quizically.

silly enough, you envy him for being able to do so.

you hum in thought. “i guess you’ve stolen a few things for me, too.”

“few? you mean a loooot?”

“you’re the one who brings home food and random things.” you roll your eyes. “i never ask you to.”

“you told me you wanted the service bell!”

you feel yourself become flushed with sheepishness. he’s not lying. you’ve always found the object fascinating as a child, so you couldn’t help but to tell him to sneakily take one home after filming a competitive run bts episode.

did you have a silly phase where you and jungkook used it to summon each other just to laugh together about it?

perhaps.

“well, you’re rich. you could’ve bought me one instead.”

“but it was already there.” he reasons with a wide grin, gesturing infront of him. “i wanted to give it to my lover right away.”

his lover?

jungkook has successfully replaced your frown with an enamored smile.

“i made your heart flutter just now, didn’t i?”

a hospital stay has never felt this comfortable— not terrifying. you have stitches on your face and to add to that, this hospital gown feels super unflattering. somehow, your boyfriend’s loving gaze remains steady and you are melting.

“shut up,” you mutter, flustered, handing him the pair of chopsticks. “please eat with me. i can’t finish this on my own.”

—

“why would you let them put the needle in my dominant hand?”

you stomp your feet on the ground as jungkook squeezes some toothpaste onto a newly-bought toothbrush.

“i’m sorry! i was too stressed out so i just pointed! i think i got confused with- with left and right.”

you didn’t realize this while you were eating; that you were unconsciously holding the spoon with your non-dominant hand because the other felt uncomfortable. maybe because it was a simple task, scooping food and bringing it to your mouth. brushing your teeth, on the other hand… can be quite an arm workout.

“eeeee!”

he shows his complete set of teeth, urging you to do the same. you stare at him blankly.

“eeeee!” he repeats with heightened enthusiasm.

left with no other choice— you copy his awkward smile.

“there we go!” he praises you with an over-enthusiastic beam.

he carries on to brush your teeth, gingerly holding your chin to keep you steady as he does his job.

this is the first time jungkook is doing this for you. today is definitely not one of your finest moments. it feels a bit silly to be in this situation, and you feel bad for putting your boyfriend in this position in the first place. you can see that he’s trying his best—unnecessarily focused—and that he loves you, but you just hate giving him a hard time.

with a soft smile, he wipes the bubbles that overflowed past your lips.

“okay, spit.”

you spit out more of the bubbles on the sink. you assume that he’s finished, except he’s making another vowel sound for you to mimic the mouth shape of.

“ahhhh-”

“this is embarrassing!”

“baby, really? this is where you draw the line?” he playfully squeezes your cheeks together. “it’s almost over! ahhhh!”

and you let him do this thing, but not without a glare that is masking the embarrassing truth: you might be enjoying this more than you care to admit.

“see? was that so bad?”

as he tenderly pats your face dry in the aftermath, he says: “i’m sorry. bear with it a little more. let me take care of you so you’ll be healthy again.” and you feel every ounce of his sincerity pierce through the barriers surrounding your soul.

“stop it…” your voice suddenly comes out broken.

you want to put all the blame on your period for the tears that are now brimming your eyes, but jungkook is your biggest weakness of all and that is an explanation enough.

“why are you crying?” he panics. “what did i say?”

“it’s your fault.”

you break down into loud sobs, incapable of even keeping your eyes open. you never understood why we close our eyes when we cry, but right now, you know that you can’t bear to witness his reaction.

“you’re so sweet.”

the towel that was wiping the water from your mouth is now drying the tears from your stained cheeks.

“am i making you sad?”

you furiously shake your head. how could he say such a thing? he is the greatest joy of your life.

“no?”

“no!”

“okay, come here then.”

he wraps his arms around your trembling figure, caging you in the solace of his entire existence. a sense of calmness washes over your system, especially as he runs his hand across your back in gentle strokes. this isn’t his goal though, it seems. you hear none of his quiet shushes beseeching you to stop breaking his heart. he hopes you let go of everything that has been weighing on you, but he has already eased all your pains by loving you.

“ugh, i probably look horrible right now.” you force a chuckle to lighten up the mood, wiping your face with the back of your free hand. “i feel gross.”

“that’s not true.” he gazes at you fondly, brushing your hair with his fingers. “it’s actually infuriating how you look so beautiful still.”

“i know. i’m nice to look at; that’s why you tolerate my attitude.” you conclude in jest.

“yeah, sometimes.” he rides on the joke.

“what…?”

“i’m joking!” he rushes to take it back with a laugh. “of course i’m joking!”

you pout. “are you really?”

“oh, come onnnn.”

he coaxes you with a kiss on the lips— a good morning kiss long overdue. you’ve been spoiled rotten with affection; he knows you need more than one. he interrupts himself several times to kiss you.

“you know i’ll love you until our hair turns white and our skin all wrinkly.”

to be brutally honest, you’re not fond of imagining that far ahead. it’s daunting. you doubt your capability to age with grace. you’re horrified by the thought of having the majority of your life behind you. nostalgia has always been more bitter than sweet. but maybe this memory could be the sweetest of all, if jungkook truly stays by your side until then. in a cottage at the countryside like he said once, or a cabin by the ocean.

you’re both so young; so arrogant when it comes to making promises that are a shot in the dark. so fucking in love.

“me too.” you half-smile, scrunching your nose— a telltale sign of your joy. “now, get out. i really need to pee.”

his face becomes drained of blood. “but you’re st-”

“i won’t lock the door this time.” you cup his cheek, looking at his eyes reassuringly. “we don’t need property damage added to the bill.”

—

“did you not hurt yourself?”

“me?”

“you broke down the door. that’s not easy to do.”

you and jungkook make the best out of a bad deal. you’re squeezed together on the bed, browsing through television channels that seem to never end.

“it was easy because you were on the other side of it.”

that is what he claims confidently, but you are not fully convinced.

“wow, why do they have more channels than we do at home?”

“you didn’t answer my question.” you pout. “did you hurt yourself?”

“i didn’t hurt myself. i’m totally okay. i promise.”

he maintains eye-contact as he speaks. given the assurance, your tight chest unrestricts. jungkook is not a good liar. it’s a trait that causes him inconvenience every now and then, but it helps you to sleep soundly at night.

“should we just watch funny animal videos on youtube?”

“i guess that’s fine.”

it doesn’t show but you feel excitement run in your veins aside from the iv fluids that feel peculiarly cold.

from under your cheek, his chest vibrates with a giggle. “okay, hold on.”

as he pulls up the application, you tangle your legs together beneath the thin blanket. you hear the rapid tap tap tap of the remote control navigating the keypad while he types on the search bar, but your attention is someplace else. you’ve found the crook of his neck to sneak into, lazily kissing every inch of his exposed skin. your lips eventually trail up to his jaw. he smells so nice. you’re addicted.

“baby, someone can enter any minute.”

“i’m not doing anything.” you mumble.

you smile against his lips when he gives you a kiss as sweet as honey anyway.

“i’m curious about another thing.”

“what’s that?”

“did you cry?”

he comes to a still. the answer to that question requires a little time and thought.

“almost…”

“why almost?”

“no time. i had to bring you here, of course.” he replies.

you huff a laugh, exhaling a twinge of melancholia. “don’t cry.”

“i won’t. i’m happy now because you’re awake and fighting with me.”

“ow-”

your cry of pain is silenced when he squeezes you in an embrace that makes it nearly impossible to breathe.

“red panda!”

a squeal assaults both of your hearing as soon as your eyes land on the wide screen infront of the bed.

“i want one so fucking bad.”

the enunciated curse makes your boyfriend crack up in amusement. “that much?!”

—

jungkook opens his eyes to a nurse lightly nudging him awake.

“i’m sorry, i had to wake you up. i need to check vitals and draw blood.”

“shit, i’m sorry.” he panics.

his brain is foggy from the nap, but he still carefully sits up on the bed, wary of the iv line connected to your hand.

“i… was tired and i fell asleep.”

“it’s no problem; don’t worry.”

she smiles at him, but he doesn’t see it.

“you look adorable sleeping.”

“ah, really?” he awkwardly responds, absentminded. “it’s embarrassing.”

he stands on your side, about to disturb your peaceful rest much as it makes his heart ache with guilt, but you’re already stirring due to the absence of his warmth.

your heavy eyelids blink at the nurse in curiosity. “oh… do you need my blood?”

“yes, but i’ll take your blood pressure and temperature first.”

“okay,” you mumble, offering your arm. “it might be higher now because i’m scared.”

she chuckles at your joke. jungkook tries to share an endeared look with her and non-verbally communicate adorable, right?

“i promise i’ll be quick. although we definitely want it to be higher than earlier’s.”

you wince as the cuff around your upper arm goes as tight as it could, and you sigh at the same time that it begins to deflate.

“good, good, good,” she chants with a mumble. “it’s back in the normal range again…”

she brings out a digital thermometer from her pocket.

“you know where this goes.”

she hands it over to you, and you awkwardly place it in your armpit, holding it in place. it’s quiet as you wait for the device to make the beeping sound, except for her pen creating friction with your chart as she takes down notes.

“how’s your stitches? do you feel any discomfort?”

“it’s fine. thank you.”

not long after, you hear the beep. you return the thermometer to her, but not before taking a peak at the numbers displayed on the tiny screen. 36.8°C. you think you’ll live.

“i’ll draw your blood now.”

the nurse’s voice is sweet and reassuring, but it doesn’t quite ease the nervousness evident on your expression. your pupils shake as you watch her disinfect the area, and then comes out the long needle.

another one, jungkook laments inside.

“____, i’m right here.”

you crane your head, whimpering out his name. “jungkook,”

“it will be just a pinch. i’m inserting the needle now, alright?”

you take a sharp inhale.

if only he could switch positions with you, he would do it in a heartbeat. unfortunately, all he can do is caress your hair and whisper that it will be over soon.

“it hurts.” your damp eyelashes flutter, face twisting in discomfort. “i don’t like it.”

really, just a pinch? obviously a lie.

“hey, baby. look at the tv.”

the autoplay was left turned on after you fell asleep together. inside the screen is a puppy rolling around a snow-covered lawn. the wagging of its tail, the wide smile, and the pupils as big as boba balls: they all scream the happiness of an innocent.

“it’s so cute… i miss bam already. can we go to a dog park again?”

“of course!”

that promise sparks your smile. you turn to your side, and jungkook also catches a glimpse of the cotton taped to where you were poked.

“all done. you can go back to resting.”

“thank you. will you need to take blood again?” you inquire at the nurse.

“hm, probably. it depends on the doctor based on the results we get from this one.”

“can’t you just do it while i’m asleep? or is that not allowed?”

“baby…” jungkook snorts, hiding his face behind the palm of his hands.

the nurse laughs at your desperate suggestion. “that is honestly not a rare request, but the thing is… you might wake up in the middle of it and injure yourself. we can’t do that.”

“that won’t be a problem!” you passionately argue your case. “i’m a deep sleeper. seriously!”

“ah, thank you so much for your hard work!”jungkook intervenes, bowing to the nurse out of respect and gratitude. “i’m sure you’re busy. i will handle this!”

“oh yes, yes- thank you. please don’t forget the medicine for after dinner.”

“i won’t!”

“if you need anything, you know where to find me again.”

“yes,” he nods, chuckling. “thank you.”

“then i should leave…? but you’ll see me again later! bye!”

the door shuts, and his attention lands on your unimpressed form: a blank stare and arms folded infront of your chest.

uh-oh.

“did she seriously wink while saying that?”

“what?” he freezes, genuinely clueless. “i don’t know. i didn’t see anything. i was looking at you.”

“i’m right here- i’m the patient. why would you need anything from her? huh? why is she so excited to see you again?” you ramble angrily.

“right?!”

he climbs on the bed, reclaiming his spot next to you.

“that was weird.”

“what if she made it hurt on purpose? that…” you frown, glancing at your arm. “that didn’t really feel like a pinch to me.”

“ey, calm down. she wouldn’t.” he makes a doubtful face, laughing off the accusation. “…i don’t think so?”

you blink, exhaling in disbelief. “are you taking her side now?”

“of course not! baby, i’m just saying… a professional won’t do that.”

“why not? she’s still human. humans do stupid things when they like someone. she obviously likes you.”

“and so what?”

he grins with a spark of mischief, leaving an inch of a distance between your lips.

“i’m obviously yours.”

but you turn your cheek and your eyes fall on your lap, a pout highlighting your downcast mood.

“it’s so annoying.”

the regret sinks in after. he should’ve stuck to the golden rule: agree with everything that you say. there’s no point in having an argument no one will win. does it matter who’s right and wrong if each other’s sadness is contagious in addition to their own? your gut has almost always been right, and he’s old enough to be conscious of not allowing a stranger to put a dent on your relationship.

“are you serious? are you uncomfortable?” he tilts his head to try and get a better look at your face. “should i request for a different nurse?”

it’s quiet for a beat and he feels inclined to fill the silence with whatever enters his mind.

“i love you.”

almost immediately, your features soften and he knows your heart is also melting. the two of you bite the inside of your cheeks to hide a smile.

“no, there’s no need for that.”

but he still can’t help but to be worried. your peace of mind is his top priority. he doesn’t want you to be more stressed out, especially by things that he has the power to solve.

“are you sure?”

“she pissed me off. i need to piss her off too.”

of course, his ever stubborn and competitive lover. he sits up properly, amused and curious.

“and how will you do that?”

“i don’t know,” you nonchalantly shrug. “i’ll come up with something.”

—

“come up with what?”

to your surprise, a voice you haven’t heard in weeks echoes from the door.

“mom…?”

you’re stunned after only hearing yourself react to jungkook’s mother’s unexpected entrance. your head whips to his direction; your eyes wordlessly interrogating him.

“i need to go to work so i called her to watch over you.” he explains.

“why would you do that?” you argue with him as quietly as possible, lips barely moving as you try to hide your face from your mother-in-law. again, not one of your finest moments. “you didn’t have to. i can take care of myself.”

“but you don’t have to because you have us.”

jungkook marks the conversation finished with a kiss pressed to your temple, leaving you dumbfounded. he jumps off the bed and for a split second, you make eye-contact with his mother before he towered over her for a quick hug.

her kind smile is embroidered in your memory; a memory that wraps your heart in a type of warmth only a mother can provide.

“mom! i’m sorry. i really, really, really need to leave now. but! i’ll try to come back early so you can go home early too.”

“aigoo, stop stressing yourself out.”

jungkook receives a slap on the back, somehow more loving can scolding.

“i can stay the night so do what you need to do. you don’t have to worry.”

“it’s not only because i’m worried!”

she sassily puts a hand over her waist. it takes everything in you not to laugh out loud.

“then what else?”

“mom! what else?” he cheekily smiles. “of course i’ll miss ____ too much.”

did your boyfriend just…? to his mother? your jaw becomes slack from the shame.

“i missed ____ too!” she contests. “go to work and give us our alone time.”

you shyly smile when she transfers her attention from her son to you.

“hello, my baby. are you hungry?”

—

“does my son feed you well?”

“he does! but it’s funny- other mothers ask the opposite. are you feeding my son well? do you make sure he’s comfortable?”

you think out loud, transfixed on how she peels oranges with ease. your hands would always be stained by the juices, (and eyes red and teary from accidental splashes) (it’s too embarrassing to even think about) but hers are still magically clean.

“is that so?”

you graciously accept the slice she feeds you. she laughs when your face lights up like a christmas tree one more time. it’s way sweeter than you anticipated. you can’t get over how delicious it is.

“mhmm!”

perhaps you relied too much on dramas when it came to your expectations of what a relationship with your in-laws would look like. you imagined yourself running around like a dog trying to prove yourself worthy of their son, yet for some reason, it looks like they adore you for simply existing. it makes you feel extremely grateful, but you don’t understand.

“mom, i have a question… i know it’s probably too late to ask this now, but…”

“what could that be?”

“are you really not against me and jungkook living together?” you swallow your fear of the possibility of an unpleasant truth. “are you not… worried… that i’m receiving too much from him?”

because you would understand the apprehension. as a parent, one’s main concern would be their child. to outside eyes, it’s easy to come to the conclusion that jungkook is being taken advantage of and he’d be better off dating someone with the same status. sometimes you wish you were that someone too.

she utters your name sadly.

“he receives happiness and love from you. those are the most valuable things you could give to a person.”

she caresses your hair like she wants to erase the anxiety poisoning your mind.

“my dear, how come you’re worried about that until now? haven’t we told you? you’re part of the family. forget about my sister! i don’t welcome her negativity in our house!”

“living together is different. it’s a big deal. it normally happens in a relationship after…” the following words feel foreign in your mouth; they come out quieter than the rest of your sentence. “getting married.”

“then tell me. why did you agree to live with him?”

because you’re selfish. because you want more time that you can have him all to yourself. because you want to be accessible— the first person he runs to when he’s seeking comfort and stability. because you want goodnight and good morning kisses. because you were afraid of the risks but you’ve grown addicted to the thrill of love.

“he said… no matter how hard i push him away, he will stay within my reach.”

you hear your own shaky breathing. that moment— it’s still burned into your memory. you’re still holding on to it. it’s a promise he is yet to break and you pray that he never, ever does.

“i don’t want to push him away. i want to be within his reach too.”

you’re two people loving each other with everything within your means. after the endless pains and the deafening noise, you like to think that’s what makes this relationship worth fighting for.

“does my opinion still matter knowing that? will you let me stop you?”

“no, i won’t. i’d make you change your mind.”

if you had a machine connected to you, she would see how your heart rate has gone off the charts. but you’re known to say whatever’s on your mind and that, much to your dismay, isn’t switched off despite sitting infront of the woman who birthed and raised the love of your life.

you sniffle, pursing your lips nervously. “but i feel like there might be a right answer to that one.”

what you didn’t expect was her to laugh until her belly hurts; placing a hand over her mouth in an effort to calm herself down and keep grace.

“mom! stop, i’m so embarrassed!”

“no, ____, don’t get me wrong!”

she is teary-eyed as she gathers herself together.

“the more time i spend with you, the more i realize why jungkook loves you so much. i’ve seen him show incredible commitment twice. do you know that? first, when he went to seoul to become a singer. second, when he told us he got an apartment because he wants to be with you… of course, as his mother, i’ll admit that he’s young when he made those decisions, but he always proves to me that he’s smart and responsible.”

the urge to cry returns and strengthens as she speaks. you feel your eyelashes become damp with unshed tears. you don’t know how to act. you fiddle with your fingers. you stare at the strings and peels of the oranges you can still taste.

“i believe we both know jungkook’s personality well. he wouldn’t have let me stop him either. i’m happy to know that you’ll fight for him too.”

“thank you…”

“tsk, tsk, tsk- what is there to cry about? jungkook will get angry at me if he discovers that i made you cry.”

she wipes away your tears; however, the unmistakable scent of oranges that has clung to her hands and the affection in her tone bring forth a waterfall.

“seeing this makes me sadder.” she laments, referring to the stitches on your face.

“me too,” you babble in the midst of quiet sobs. “it makes me sad. it’s so ugly.”

—

you can’t remember the last time you felt this alone. perhaps it’s the effect of staying in an unfamiliar building of complete strangers. without your mobile phone, may you add. you managed to persuade jungkook’s mother to leave an hour ago because you didn’t want her to sleep on the uncomfortable couch.

the lights are turned off except for the lamp beside your bed, and with the television muted, you could hear a hairpin drop.

you’re alone and you can do whatever you want.

you dragged the visitor’s chair infront of the window to admire the garden like it’s a painting in motion. you watched people converse, stroll, and drink coffee. you watched them run for shelter when the clouds became too heavy and the sky began to fall. oh, so that’s why you couldn’t see the stars.

at this moment, there’s nothing left to amuse yourself with but the trembling of the leaves and the raindrops forming temporary rings when they fall in the water fountain.

your senses crave for more. you reach over and crack open the window, just enough to allow the sound of the rain and the scent of it permeating the earth to enter your room.

“this is kind of peaceful.” you whisper, amazed by the new lightness carried by your heart.

you close your eyes and you breathe in the petrichor deeply. you want nature in your lungs as a reminder that you’re alive. you welcome the cold wind kissing your face. you can feel your hair touching your neck. you always do, but for once, you’re choosing to acknowledge it. your thumb slowly brushes across the palm of your hand, perceiving the texture of your skin, the softness, and the lines. and your feet, they’re in the clouds, the fluffy slippers jungkook’s mother bought outside because she knows they’re your favorite to wear.

you’ve loved and despised this body for a million different reasons. your mind and heart have accepted defeat countless times, but your body wakes up to every brand new day without fail. your body implores you to live. did it finally give up on you today?

“baby!”

you look behind to search for the source of the sound.

you get your answer from the kiss planted on your lips.

you only saw his face for a split second, but even if you had your eyes closed, you’d know it has to be jungkook kissing you.

you can smell him. you’ve memorized the way the shape of his lips fits with yours.

oh, the sounds of his kisses too. you like to call them the butterfly call because they make butterflies appear in your stomach.

you could trace the scar on his cheek with your finger if you want to.

god, what a privilege it is to experience life in this vessel.

a knock on the door forces you to part too early. the same nurse from earlier enters and you internally scream all the curse words in your dictionary. jungkook acknowledges her with a bow and a quick ‘hello’ before squatting down infront of you.

“i committed another crime for you today.”

“huh?”

your wide, confused eyes take a glimpse at the nurse who is doing something with the controls of your iv line.

hahaha… she knows he’s not serious, right?

“what did you do?”

his smile is so big that his eyes have turned into little crescent moons. you’d make a guess but there is an infinite amount of things jungkook could possibly be this excited about.

…apparently, one of them would be strawberry cake.

you gape at the transparent box he was hiding behind his back all along.

“did you steal somebody’s birthday cake?!”

“it’s a producer’s birthday and he received lots of cakes, so he told me i can take one home.”

“how is it stealing if he allowed you to take it?”

he tosses his backpack on the couch as he sets down the box on the table. he rummages through the bag his mother left behind, successfully bringing out a spoon. meanwhile, you get your blood pressure taken again.

as he opens the box, he sends a smirk your way.

“no. i hid the strawberry cake because there’s so many who wanted to eat it.”

“are you crazy?!”

the nurse clicks her tongue. “don’t talk and stay still, please.”

“oh,” your hand flies to your mouth on instinct. “i’m sorry.”

“i’m sorry.” jungkook also apologizes.

you and your boyfriend secretly share a look, exchanging a smile that is stifled laughter inside. your lips remain zipped as the nurse restarts the process of taking your blood pressure. on the other hand, jungkook eats a spoonful of cake, teasingly wiggling his eyebrows at you. you roll your eyes and he tries harder to laugh without a sound.

seconds later, he grumbles about the room being too warm. he wipes the beads of sweat on his forehead using the back of his hand, and he does the worst thing he could possibly do at this moment. he reaches for his back, pulling his sweater over his head. naturally, his inner shirt rides up and allows wandering eyes a peak at his glorious toned abdomen.

passed out in the shower. busted your eyebrow open. front-row seat for a woman flirting and ogling at your boyfriend.

how fucking great.

“hello? i think it’s done.” you snap.

“a-ah, yes.”

you hear her swallow as she removes the cuff from your arm. she may be wearing a mask but she’s hot and red all the way to her ears. you’ve only read about it in books. you didn’t even believe this could happen in real life until now.

“i will check your temperature too.”

“go on.”

you repeat the same process from hours earlier, drumming your fingers on your thigh as you wait for the beep.

“yah, why is the window open? you’ll catch a cold.”

jungkook, yet again, steals the attention of every person in the room when he rises to his feet. his shadow casts over you as he closes the window.

“i wanted to smell the rain.”

“is the room getting too stuffy for you?”

you shrug. “i just wanted to smell the rain.”

you feel the nurse’s stare. you offer her a smile and her nameplate briefly gets caught by your vision. kang ji-woo.

“ji-woo; that’s a pretty name.” you pay her a sincere compliment. “it’s healing, don’t you think?”

“yes? uh-uhm, y-yes…” she replies, unsure and confused by the sudden small talk. “actually, it’s been linked to a reduction in stress and anxiety levels.”

“thank you! babe, did you hear that?”

“uhuh, think about my stress and anxiety levels.” he leans against the window with his arms crossed, raising an eyebrow at you.

so now he’s flexing his arm muscles. cool, cool, cool. you know he’s not doing it on purpose and his entire existence is just naturally hot and it’s infuriating.

“i’ve been worried sick about you all day.”

his statement makes you frown for a new reason. at the same moment, the thermometer beeps.

“could you please tell him that i’m fine?”

“37.3, uhhh- that’s slightly above normal. how do you feel? does your head hurt? are you cold?”

“i feel fine though?”

“okay. please take a lot of rest and stay warm…” her gaze lingers at jungkook who is blocking the window. “keep the window closed. hopefully it won’t be higher when i check again later.”

seriously?! you could cry. you want to go home where it’s comfortable. where it’s only you and jungkook and bam.

but you bet somebody would be happy if you had to stay longer.

“i’ll look after ____.” your boyfriend sighs, pulling out a jacket from his backpack.

“you shouldn’t have kissed me. what if you get sick?”

your blatantness causes the nurse to pause in updating your chart. she awkwardly clears her throat. “yeah… that… that isn’t currently advisable.”

“i’m sorry. i’ll control myself.”

you earn a glare from jungkook, then he fakes a smile which you gladly return.

“before you go, may i request for a new blanket? sorry, i spilled something earlier.”

“sure thing! i’ll come back with that right away.”

—

“she seemed happy to leave.” jungkook remarks. “i can’t tell if you were actually being nice or being passive aggressive.”

you smile innocently, taking a bite off the strawberry you stole from the top of the cake. “i’m a fucking angel.”

damn it, why is he suddenly turned on?

were you serious about the no kiss rule?

“would you rather i be the type to pull their hair?”

he shakes his head with a laugh. “but you did slap someone once.”

“you want to see me that furious again?”

“never in my wildest dreams.”

he kisses the top of your head, producing an exaggerated ‘mmmwah!’ sound that makes you giggle happily.

“here, have some more cake.”

he offers you a spoonful of cake.

no, it’s bigger.

as a matter of fact, the piece could probably pass off as a cupcake.

you gawk at it as if you’re figuring out the logistics of putting it in your mouth. his heart does a flip when you tilt your head and do your best to take in the whole thing. however, in the middle of it, you decide that you can’t, and you end up biting it off a little more than halfway.

oh my god, he loves you. he loves you. you’re so fucking cute.

your cheeks are full as you struggle to chew. you cover your mouth with your hand but they don’t touch. you’re so elegant in your ways and sometimes he wonders how you’re still attracted to him after he acts stupid.

also, plain white nails? that’s new. you always want colors.

“your nails look pretty.”

he is so focused on you that he fails to take notice of another presence occupying the room.

“your mom did them for me.”

“i figured. she wants to do mother-daughter things with you.”

the short break of silence speaks volumes. you look at him, blinking with eyes hinting at a type of joy you’re lost on how to express.

“did you choose white?”

“no. we were watching a drama and it was the couple’s wedding.”

oh, that makes total sense.

“let me guess,” he trails off with a half-embarrassed, half-entertained smile. “she asked when we will get married?”

“why would she ask me that? how would i know?” you scoff.

his heart starts at a thousand miles per hour. fuck, are you hinting at him? are you messing with his feelings again? with you, he always needs to remind himself to be rational.

“i need more time to prove to you that i’m husband material.”

“what? stop it. i don’t care. i don’t need a ring.”

your unpredictableness pushes him to the edge of his seat.

“don’t pressure yourself. you already treat me way better than most husbands do their wives.”

the pride painted on your face is unmistakable. he feels his heart swelling in his chest. has he been doing a better job than he originally thought? after what happened today, he was terrified that he hasn’t been paying enough attention to you.

“i’m so happy with what we have.”

you offer him a delicate smile before eating the rest of the cake that was left on the spoon. he swears there’s a glowing halo above your head.

could your temperature have magically dropped in the past five minutes? would you kill him if he kissed you right now?

“is there anything else i could assist you with?”

and then he is rudely snapped out of his hopeless adoration and daydreaming.

“that’s all! thank you for your hard work!” you chirp.

he turns to the nurse with a lovesick grin.

“please come to our wedding.”

the unforeseen wedding invitation earns him a slap on the chest. he clutches the affected area, wincing in pain.

he hears you mutter. “don’t invite strangers to our wedding.”

the irritated glare he predicted to face isn’t there. rather, you’re wearing the flustered smile he only sees when he knows that he did something to make you fall for him all over again.

before ji-woo left, she tried to subtly reject the invitation by jokingly saying that she’d die to go, but most probably, she’d have to work that day. you know… being an overworked hospital employee and all. you caught her glancing at you with bitterness failed to be guised as indifference. you get it. you’d hate it if another person was in your place. frankly speaking, you could be miles pettier.

your boyfriend wipes the corner of your lips, thoughtless as he licks off the cake frosting from his thumb.

damn it, you wish she was also here for that.

“you haven’t stopped smiling.”

“you love me and you never let me forget that.”

you give an answer despite the lack of a question mark.

you just made his world stop spinning on its axis and you’re not even aware.

jungkook knows the heavenly feeling of knowing that he is loved, but he has never deeply considered the joy and relief when the person he loves believes that he loves them.

“i’m so lucky. i love you.”

you push yourself up to plant a kiss on his forehead. it’s a rarity he treasures and keeps.

“i love you too.”

he cries infront of you.

almost.

he excuses himself to the bathroom and cries in there a little.

you’re so easy to love— that’s why it makes him want to do difficult things for you. like commit more crimes?

[euphorajeon]

if it's a dream (i'll come around)

— request: jeongguk + yes or no - jungkook

— pairing: jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff

— word count: 3.1k

— warnings/tags: idol!jk, college student!oc, best friend!jk, most likely inaccurate desc of new york, jk is still pining, jk orders food excessively (again), cliches (sorry)

— summary: something in the new york air makes jeongguk feel a rush: a rush to admit, a rush to tell, a rush to take a leap. he's just not sure whether you feel it too.

— author's note: it's finally here!! i'm sorry for taking so long to write this request. thank you areyousure!jeongguk for inspiring me to finish this request. hah. i hope you still enjoy!! (its unedited. maybe i'll come back someday to edit.)

a continuation of opposite of sun and light of the morning. please read the first two parts before reading this!

masterlist

Jeongguk never thought that it could be so hard to walk around New York.

There are people everywhere, going in a thousand different directions than him, and they walk so fast Jeongguk struggles to keep up even with his long legs. The shops he caught his eyes on were always full too, making him turn away from the door and look for other places that aren't so filled to the brim. Maybe he should’ve gone somewhere not as touristy as Times Square.

But above all, the hardest part of his stroll today is walking alongside you and having to feign nonchalance about it.

Jeongguk’s life as a singer doesn’t really allow him to have much free time, and even when he does, you either have work, class, or anything in between. As a result, the both of you can’t meet often. Jeongguk is so used to just seeing your face on his phone screen, talking to you via a video call connection, that seeing your form walking beside him throws him off balance.

It’s a good thing your face is mostly covered by the camera in your hands, otherwise Jeongguk would’ve spent the entire day with a blush dusting his cheeks just from holding eye contact with you.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?”

Jeongguk squints his eyes past the camera lens covering your face, searching for your eyes which are shaded by the faded black cap sitting on your head. You only respond with a shrug, gesturing towards the camera as if to remind Jeongguk of its existence. He sighs, lifting your cap with a finger so he can look at your eyes. “Bun.”

“You’re not supposed to talk to me, you know?” you huff, trying to balance the device in your hand so Jeongguk’s face is still in frame. “I’m your cameraman for today, not your best friend.”

Jeongguk chuckles. “Camerawoman,” he corrects, “and who says I’m not allowed to talk to you? Do you think I talk to myself the entire time I’m filming vlogs like this?”

“Seems like it,” you say. “Sometimes they’re funny, but most of the time they just make me think ‘what even is he saying?’”

A slow grin spreads on Jeongguk’s face, his eyes still trained on you instead of the camera. When you look away from the small screen of the device in your hand, Jeongguk feels like his smile could split his face into two, and it must look bizarre on camera, but he doesn’t care. What he does care about is—

“You watch my vlogs?”

Suddenly, Jeongguk feels like he is not a popular singer with fans all over the world who tune in to his regular vlog updates, but just Jeon Jeongguk, a boy with a crush to impress. The way you unintentionally confirmed that you watch his vlogs makes him feel all giddy inside that it slipped his mind that you already said the same thing this morning in his hotel room.

Maybe this is what people mean when they say love makes one stupid.

“Only to see what other stupid shenanigans you do this time,” you mumble, dabbing around your face with the back of your free hand. It suspiciously looks like you’re trying to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks, but Jeongguk immediately throws that thought away from his mind. It must be the New York heat that’s making your face hot like this.

“Just admit you enjoy seeing my face on your phone that much,” Jeongguk says cheekily, settling for a response that’s annoying, teasing, but familiar for the both of you. Maybe he’ll address the not-blush on the apple of your cheeks some other time.

“Where was this confidence about me watching your Times Square performance, huh?” You punch his shoulder lightly, which he’s sure makes the image of him on camera shake and blur. “Saying I ‘ghosted’ you because your performance is ‘bad’. What nonsense was that.”

“Hey, I was really worried about you, okay?” Jeongguk pouts. “Besides, I still need your opinion on my performances, whereas my vlogs are usually just me messing around. It’s different.”

Whatever response you have prepared in your mind gets interrupted by your phone ringing, which startles you so much you almost drop the camera from your hand. Good thing Jeongguk has fast reflexes, immediately enclosing his hands around yours before you could do any damage to the device. Upon checking the caller ID, your expression turns to one of worry.

Jeongguk takes the camera away from you. “Take the call,” he says. “I’ll just be here.”

While you step away to do just that, Jeongguk takes the opportunity to finally pay attention to the camera that he has been ignoring for the past few minutes, checking himself out on the small screen and running his fingers through his hair while holding eye contact with the lense. He goes on social media often enough to know that his fans will cut this specific clip from the vlog and fangirl over how good he looks while doing that.

Sometimes he wonders whether you see those clips and have the same reaction as his fans. Do you see them and scroll past them like they’re nothing? Do you scoff at his antics? Do you shake your head with a small laugh?

There’s also a possibility of you not even seeing those clips at all, but Jeongguk likes to think he’s popular enough that his clips can’t help but still end up in your feed. (Also, it hurts his little heart too much to imagine otherwise.)

You come back to him from your phone call with anxiety written all over your face. Jeongguk doesn’t even need to inquire before you squeak out your concern yourself.

“The deadline for my midterm paper has been moved. It’s now due in five hours. Jeongguk, what do I do?”

The both of you end up going back to Jeongguk’s hotel to fish out your brick-ass laptop from your gigantic backpack, the camera in his hands still recording. You’ve told him that he could continue exploring New York on his own, bringing the camera noona like the initial plan was, but Jeongguk insisted on coming with you instead. Why would he go with anyone else when you are here?

Still, though, because he doesn’t want to lose the sense of exploring a new place, he drags you to a dessert cafe near his hotel, offering to hold your laptop in his arms while you walk the short distance to the cafe. Despite your protests, Jeongguk manages to convince you to leave the camera on for the entirety of this laptop fiasco, capturing every moment from the laptop tug-of-war in Jeongguk’s hotel room to his grin in response to your sulking face when you’re both seated in the dessert cafe.

His video editor would hate him for this, but Jeongguk doesn’t care. You’re here, in New York with him, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try his hardest to preserve any memories you make here.

“I don’t understand why you’d rather be stuck here with me than be out there exploring sunny New York in all its glory,” you huff while waiting for your laptop to turn on. It takes a while, Jeongguk notices, but your pout prevents him from saying anything about it. “What idiot has free time in New York and chooses to spend it cooped inside some random cafe?”

Jeongguk pretends to adjust the camera sitting on the table—angled in a way that it captures his face only—so he doesn’t have to look at your face when he says his next words: “Your idiot, Bun.”

You level him with a flat stare. “So you admit you’re an idiot.”

If it means being yours, sure, Jeongguk thinks. He really should stop thinking thoughts like these lest he blurt them out in front of you, on camera.

“I’m gonna order, what do you want, Bun?” Jeongguk asks as an attempt to steer the conversation away from idiots with feelings.

You look up from your (finally on) laptop screen with your head in your hands. “Anything except americano,” you mumble. “Thanks, Jeon.”

“Sure, Bun.” Jeongguk stands up from his seat, grabbing the camera to bring with him to the cashier. “You sure you don’t want anything else?”

The way you shake your head dejectedly is so uncharacteristic of you, given you’re both in a cafe filled with the smell of baked goods—something that usually brings a light of excitement into your eyes. Jeongguk can only imagine how stressful it is being a college student and having your midterm deadline be moved to hours earlier, and to experience all this while being jet lagged from a 14-hour flight prior surely doesn’t help.

Jeongguk has to physically hold himself from ducking down to engulf you in a hug, squeeze his arms around your frame until your frown is turned upside down and he can bear witness to your smile once again. For now, he can only wish that the cafe sells the type of bread you like so he can at least alleviate some of your burden with the sweet treat.

When he goes to the cashier to order, his polite smile is responded with a gasp from the cafe worker, clearly recognizing him as the popular singer. His smile turns into something more genuine��albeit a bit shy also—when the worker mentions that she’s a fan of his. After exchanging some pleasantries with her, Jeongguk proceeds to order. He just doesn’t realize how many desserts and pastries in the display case he’s pointed at until the worker asks him a question.

“Are you here with your crews?” she inquires, still tapping away at the computer screen in front of her. When Jeongguk only stares at her with wide eyes, she continues. “We can provide individual utensils for each of you if you’d like,” she offers.

Oh. Oh. Jeongguk thought she was asking for conversational purposes. “Uh, just two sets would be fine. Thank you.”

Still, it doesn’t register in his brain that he’s ordered too many pastries for two people until he’s coming back to your table with only both of your drinks on the tray in his hands. He sets your drink down next to your laptop, on which you’re typing furiously like you’re a madman chased by a tight deadline (in a way, you kind of are.)

Only when three cafe workers come back to back to your table to drop off his order of various kinds of desserts and pastries does he realize that he might have gone overboard with his order. Jeongguk can only flash a guilty smile your way when you tear your eyes away from your laptop to gape at the array of desserts in front of you.

“Are you trying to feed an entire village?” you ask incredulously.

“Hehe,” Jeongguk offers. “I was thinking about you and how you looked so stressed out because of your deadline and I just … ordered pretty much everything … for you.” He scratches his head sheepishly while setting the camera to its initial position on the corner of the table. He hopes the camera doesn’t pick up the way his cheeks blossom with heat. Or if it does, he hopes the editor cuts this part out.

Jeongguk doesn’t know if he imagines this part or not, but your eyes soften at his words and your next words are more gentle in tone. “Thank you, but there’s no way I would be able to finish all of these by myself.”

“Did you forget that you have Jeon Jeongguk for a best friend?” There’s a smug smirk on his face now, replacing the sheepish one he was sporting a few minutes ago. He likes it when you’re soft with him, vulnerable in a way only he’s allowed to see, but that’s exactly the problem: you’re both on camera, and whether or not this gets shared to the world, it’s still not as private as he would’ve liked. So he’s back on his annoying best friend persona to stop your vulnerable side from coming out.

You roll your eyes at him, but there’s a sliver of a smile on your lips.

The both of you spend the next few minutes enjoying your desserts and drinks, with Jeongguk cutting the desserts into bite-sized pieces so you can eat them with ease. He also does not forget his job as an entertainer, showing each and every one of the desserts to the camera and making sure his delightful hums are loud enough for the camera to pick up. He’s humming along to the song being played in the cafe while chewing when it suddenly plays an intro of a song he knows by heart—and judging from the way you look up from your laptop, you do too.

“Did they know you’re here?” The smile on your face is teasing.

“The cashier recognized me, said she’s a fan,” Jeongguk explains, turning his head in the direction of the cashier, trying to find the aforementioned worker. Upon making eye contact with her, Jeongguk mouths a thank you! with a smile, which she responds with a thumbs up.

“You must have made her day by coming here. Her whole week, even,” you chuckle, going back to typing on your laptop. The smile quickly drops from your face as you’re forced to go back to thinking mode for your midterm paper. Jeongguk nudges a fork full of pastry into your hand, silently asking you to eat.

“Then would you still say I’m an idiot for choosing to be here with you?”

Jeongguk said he’d leave this topic alone, revisit it later when he’s got the courage to do so, but what can he do? Your presence here with him makes him overwhelmed with feelings that sometimes it slips in between his words.

The only response he receives from you is silence. Jeongguk doesn’t know whether it’s because you didn’t want to respond or you simply just didn’t hear him. It’s most likely the latter as any attempt he makes to make you eat the desserts are useless as you’re too immersed in your paper. He ends up just feeding you bites after bites of desserts, grateful and giddy that you take them without protests as you’re typing.

As he’s cutting up more pastries for you to eat, the song changes to ‘Yes or No’, the fifth track on his latest album that he performed live two days ago at Times Square. He remembers you telling him that your friend, Yeseo, became a fan after listening to this song. Jeongguk tries to suppress a smile by biting his bottom lip as he listens to the lyrics of the song.

Are you feeling the rush?

Are we falling in love?

Say yes or no

In an interview, Jeongguk told the public that no songs from his album are based on his personal life, although he hopes he still delivered the messages of the songs well enough. What he doesn’t say, however, is that he thinks of you whenever he listens to or performs this song. It’s a song about a person in love and still wonders whether the other person is feeling the same way. Sometimes he wishes he could be honest and sing the words to you, pour out his feelings along the way, and he wishes you could feel the same way.

Jeongguk stops his activities of cutting desserts into bite-sized pieces and leans his back against his chair, staring at you. You’re still hyper-focused on your paper that you don’t notice his gaze, typing away on your laptop without a care for the love pouring out of his eyes.

Jeongguk knows you love him.

You love him enough to answer his video call at two am when you were studying. You love him enough to sacrifice sleep to watch his performance. You love him enough to book a flight to New York immediately after even though you still have a midterm paper to finish. You love him enough to walk around JFK with a heavy backpack hanging off your shoulders. You love him enough to join him exploring New York instead of resting off your jet lag.

But does that mean you love him enough to return his feelings the way he wants you to?

As he ponders the answer to that question, his hand moves on its own accord to continue feeding you the dessert he has cut up. You continue accepting the food he feeds you, and Jeongguk thinks maybe he needs to stop being selfish and just be content with whatever he has with you right now: friendship.

Although, in this moment, feeding you desserts while you do your paper, he feels like your college boyfriend he wished to be nights ago when you were a mere video on his phone. He already dresses the part—jeans and oversized hoodie—and feels the part, but that’s the thing about parts, isn’t it? That they’re not real, that they’re only there in his head.

You have cream on the corner of your lips from a particular big cut of dessert Jeongguk just fed you, and it feels like autopilot when he leans forward to swipe the cream off your lips with his thumb. He slots the thumb in between his own lips, sucking the cream clean off his skin. The innocent round of his eyes are met with the shocked round of yours, unblinking as you stare at the thumb previously on your lips, now on his.

“What?” he asks dumbly.

You shake your head. There’s an unmistakable crimson on the apple of your cheeks. “Nothing,” you say, clearing your throat. The blush on your face remains, and if Jeongguk’s sight serves him right, deepens instead. “Just, remember that you’re on camera the next time you want to do that.”

“So I can do it again if I turn off the camera?”

Jeongguk surprises himself by how steady he sounds. A tad too serious, too, and if he’s not careful, you might take it that he really wants to do it again, for real. His heart hammers in his chest as his hand inches towards the camera, fingers ready to turn the device off.

“Jeongguk,” you say slowly in a warning tone. “Namjoon will kill me if you try anything funny.”

Letting out his signature big grin, Jeongguk retracts his hand from the camera.

“Sorry, Bun. I’ll let you finish your paper in peace now.”

If you have cream on your lips again, maybe he’ll swipe it off with his lips instead. Maybe later, when he has the courage to. Maybe later, when he’s let you know how he really feels.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

a/n: thank you for reading! i still have 1 (one) more idea for this couple pair of bestfriends but not sure if i have the brain capacity to actually write it out ahaha let me know if you want to see more of them though :D

[sparklingchim]

maybe in another universe; m |jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 6.2k

tropes: idol!jungkook, angst, childhood friends, exes to lovers?, smut

rating: 18+

warnings: protected sex, making out, groping, fingering, jk is saur in love <3, oc is an overthinker, they're v needy, he loves watching her cum <3, giggly kisses, jk wants to hit it raw so bad 👉🏼👈🏼, one (1) boob squeeze i think, oc scratches his back 🤭

summary: jungkook is tipsy as he wanders the streets of seoul, and still, you're all he can think about.

a/n: it's bestie jk's bday!!! so here's a little fic n i swear i was gonna post smth fluffy but...here we are!!!!! sorry not sorry </3 love u

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

“I need you.”

“What?”

“I miss you so bad.”

“Are you drunk?”

“I love you. So much. It kinda hurts.”

“Jungkook.”

Silence. Except for the faint noises of cars passing by.

You hear a little sigh. “Missed hearing you say my name.”

Your fingers clasp tighter around your phone. “Why’d you call?” It’s 2 a. m., and the only reason you answered is because you were worried. This is the first time he’s called since the breakup.

“Just ‘cause,” he mumbles. You can hear the pout he’s speaking with. “We have a one week break from tour and I came back to Korea. Missed home and Mum, and you.”

“You’re in Busan, then?”

“Seoul.”

He’s here. So close.

You shake your head. Take a steady breath to calm your giddy heart. You shouldn’t care.

“Was at my parents’ for two...three days.” After a short pause, he continues, “Been wanting to talk to you all day long, but I didn’t have enough courage.”

“I mean...” You slump back against the couch, your head falling back. “There isn’t anything for us to talk about.”

“No?” he asks, confused. “I’ve got so much to say, though.”

“I meant, like, we shouldn’t be talking. At all. ‘Cause we’re – we’re done.” You thought you were. You thought you made it clear when you broke up with him.

“Haven’t you missed me at all?” He sounds both accusing and sad, and you think your heart breaks a little. “I think about you constantly,” Jungkook whispers, his confession carrying a soft hopelessness through the phone.

You sit up straight. “How much did you drink?”

“Hmm, not much,” he answers. “I’m not drunk!” he quickly adds. “Just needed some alcohol to have enough courage to call you.”

“You drank because of me?”

“You’ve never done this?”

“I’d like to say it wasn’t because of you.”

“So... you’ve been thinking about me too?” he asks tentatively.

You close your eyes. “Is this a conversation we should be having?”

Jungkook heaves a defeated sigh. With your eyes closed, you can almost picture him standing outside, the chill of the night air mixing with his feelings of loneliness. Maybe he’s pacing, or just staring into the distance, eyes weary with a faint trace of frustration mixed with vulnerability etched on his face.

“You can hang up if you want. I just hoped we could talk a bit. I’ve been – I’ve been feeling lonely and a little sad, and I couldn’t get you out of my head,” he babbles. “I’m sorry if you don’t wanna talk.”

You wish you could be cruel – could be a cynic and just hang up. But you can’t. He is tipsy and emotional, and you still love him too much.

“No, it’s fine.” If only he knew how much you’ve been wanting to hear his voice again. “I didn’t expect a call like this tonight, that’s all,” you add, pulling your legs up to your chest. “Are you on your way home?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there soon.”

“You have the dorm all to yourself?”

“The dorm? Ah, yes, I was the only one to fly back to Korea. The others stayed in the US.”

You hug your knees with one arm.

“Why are you still up so late?” Jungkook asks, as if he isn’t the one roaming around, tipsy and a bit of a heartbroken mess, in the city in the middle of the night. He does all that and yet worries about you.

“I was just eating.” Your eyes drift to the remnants of food in front of you. “And watching a drama.” The big screen is on mute. You hurriedly searched for the remote to turn off the sound once you saw the caller’s name.

“With your mum?”

“No, she’s at the studio. I think she’s finishing up some songs,” you say. Your mum left sometime in the evening, saying she’d had a sudden spark of inspiration and needed to go to the company. You bet she won’t come home until 4 a.m. “I couldn’t sleep and was craving some tteokbokki, so...”

“From the restaurant at Gangnam?”

A soft, hesitant smile blossoms on your face. “They make it the most delicious.”

He mutters a wistful sound. “I haven’t had it in so long.”

Your fingertips gently tap against your knees in a slow rhythm. “You should definitely have it before you leave again.”

“With you?” Just two words and yet they’re filled with so much innocent hope.

Your fingers halt.

“Oh?”

“Would you not want to see me?”

“I’m not sure if we should.”

“But do you want to?” He’s met with silence from your side. “You were one of the reasons I really wanted to come back to Korea.”

“But what if I don’t want to meet up?”

“Then don’t open the door.”

“I don’t...What door?”

“Your door,” he answers conversationally.

You hurriedly scramble to your feet and walk to the door. “You’re here?” The screen on the intercom shows Jungkook, holding up his phone against his ear and patiently waiting.

“You watching me?” Jungkook teases, playfully cocking his head to the side as he stares directly into the camera.

“Oh.” You take shy step back. Blood rushes to your cheeks.

“Open the door for me? Please?”

You don’t think it’s a good idea to let Jungkook in. But his doe eyes. His pleading doe eyes. They do it for you.

You buzz him in and, while you wait for him, you try to calm your racing heart.

When the elevator doors open and Jungkook steps out, you’re struck by the sight of him after months apart. You take in every detail: his tousled hair, his tired but still striking eyes, the way the light catches the contours of his face. He looks so handsome, so achingly familiar. You’re drinking him in with your eyes, unable to believe he’s actually here.

“I thought you were heading to the dorm,” you say as Jungkook steps out of the elevator.

“I didn’t say that.” A pout graces his face.

He said he was heading home.

“I missed you,” Jungkook says, and suddenly you become awfully aware of the situation unfolding before you. You have to blink twice to make sure you’re not just picturing a hologram of Jungkook in your apartment. This time, he is real. Not a figment of your imagination.

“Me too,” you admit with a heavy heart.

A lopsided, sorrowful grin appears on his mouth. “Can’t bring yourself to say it back?”

“Jungkook, you-” You shake your head, sighing as your scramble for words. “You shouldn’t even be here.”

It’s the middle of the night, and upon answering a call from Jungkook, he stands right in front of you – just like in the dreams you secretly have at night when you’re feeling lonely again. It shouldn’t be this easy. It really shouldn’t be this easy for him to say these things and fall back into a natural pattern with you when you’ve been crying yourself to sleep at night, wishing your love for him would die.

And yet, here you are, with dangerous words at the tip of your tongue, barely resisting the intense urge of your heart to scream how much it has been wanting him back.

“But let’s not – let's not just stand here.” You point to the slippers next to him. “Take off your shoes and I’ll...I dunno, put on a movie?” You go back into the living room as Jungkook hangs up his coat and follows you.

“Oh, that looks delicious,” Jungkook exclaims when he spots the leftover tteokbokki on the coffee table.

“I can heat it up for you, if you want,” you offer. Judging by the way his tongue wets his bottom lip, it’s clear he’d appreciate that.

Jungkook trails behind you into the kitchen.

“So, watchu been up to?” He leans his forearms on the counter, watching you from across the island as you put the tteokbokki into the microwave.

He’s been in this kitchen countless times before. He’s made you tea when you were sick, prepared hot chocolate when you needed comfort, and knew exactly where to find the snack stash for movie nights. He’s even prepared breakfast for you and your mum on some mornings. But tonight, he can’t shake the feeling of being a stranger here. The memories of those moments feel distant, like a blurry movie he watched when he was too young to fully remember, leaving him with only a vague sense of familiarity.

“Just, you know, studying, working. The usual.” You turn to him, mimicking his position on the other side of the counter.

“So much on your plate that you couldn’t reply to my messages?”

His gaze is intense and shameless, and you look away.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to reply to messages sent by your ex.” You turn around, leaning your back against the counter. “What am I supposed to text back when you tell me that you miss me?”

“Hey, just last week I asked how you were doing. You could’ve replied to that one.” You can sense the sulkiness in his voice, mingled with a touch of light-heartedness, but you don’t turn to face him.

Jungkook closes the distance between you.

“You don’t want me in your life anymore? Like, at all?”

Your engulfed by his scent as he stands next to you, struggling to form a proper answer as you hesitantly peer into his face.

The microwave dings, and you breathe again.

“When was the last time you had this?” You place the plate in front of him and hand him the chopsticks.

“It’s been a few months. Before the tour started, I was dieting, so, maybe 5 months?” Jungkook doesn’t notice the roll of your eyes when he mentions dieting, his attention focused on the hot tteokbokki between his chopsticks. “Mhmmm.” He closes his eyes tightly, tipping his head back as he tastes the food on his tongue. “So good.”

“Feels good to have a bit of home again before you leave?”

Jungkook nods vigorously, his eyebrows scrunched up as he eats more.

You find yourself smiling, only realising it when Jungkook mirrors your grin. A giddy thrill and a soft ache twist together inside you like a secret exposed to the light. Unable to bear the eye contact, you look away, hiding your smile by biting your bottom lip.

You notice Jungkook offering you a piece of tteokbokki in your peripheral vision. “No, thanks. I’m really full. I had a lot.” You rub your belly.

“You always used to steal bites of mine, even when you were full.”

“I used to steal your dessert. Not dinner,” you correct him. “I can never have enough dessert.” You can’t help the small laugh that escapes you. “But that was when things were... different.”

Jungkook’s playful expression fades slightly. He chews slowly, contemplating your words. “Does it have to be that different?”

The delicate confession that hangs heavily in the air.

The warmth in your chest tightens, and you’re reminded again. Reminded of the reality you’ve both been trying to avoid – more so you than Jungkook.

“Maybe it does,” you reply, the small, almost imperceptible nod you give him almost. “Things change, people change.”

The weight of your words settles over both of you like a cold shadow.

Jungkook’s eyes search yours, as if trying to find a crack in the wall you’ve put up. “But what if some things don’t have to change? What if...some things are worth holding on to?”

So much longing and regret in his words, his eyes, his heart – he is blue everywhere.

“It’s not that simple, Jungkook.” The ache in your voice betrays the calm you’re trying to maintain. “We can’t just go back to how things were.”

He steps closer, and his familiar scent surrounds you again, making it so hard to act rationally when so many past memories swirl in your mind.

“I know we can’t go back. But I don’t want to lose you completely. Can’t we find a way to be something else? Something that works?”

The idea of keeping him in your life, even in a different way, tugs at you, but you know the danger in that. You know how easily the lines could blur again, how much harder it would be to protect your heart.

That reminds you, there are still pieces of Jungkook left in your room; t-shirts and sweatshirts scattered in your wardrobe.

Taking a deep breath, you push off the counter. “Before I forget, there are still some of your things in my bedroom.”

You catch the sudden confusion in Jungkook’s eyes, but you don’t let it deter you as you pad into your room.

“It’s just a few of your shirts. I’ve been meaning to give them back to you, but uh, I wasn’t sure how to approach you because I didn’t want to contact you, but anyways.” You grab the neatly folded pile of clothes from the back of your wardrobe. “Now you’re here, so.” You hold the pile out to him.

He regards his forgotten clothes with a sight raise of his brow. His hands don’t move to take them.

“They’re old anyway,” he says. “I don’t need them. Just throw them out.”

You hesitate, holding the pile tightly.

You won’t throw them out. He knows that too.

“Fine,” you shrug nonchalantly, storing his clothes back into your wardrobe. They sit there, a constant reminder that he still has a place in your life, even when he shouldn’t. Haunting every little corner that still belongs to him. But you’re just as guilty, allowing him to do so.

When you turn around again, you see the loaded expression on his face, and your immediate response is to ignore it – redirect his attention before he starts digging up old feelings, past memories, and forgotten promises that will only make you doubt the walls you’ve tried to put between you.

“I think you still have some tteokbokki left-”

“___.” Jungkook interrupts you, grabbing your hand. You feel the warmth of his skin, and you’re mortified and comforted at the same time. “I thought we would always speak comfortably with each other. No hiding, no walls – just the truth.”

“That was before the breakup,” you counter, barely able to hold his gaze. “There is no we anymore.”

“How can you say that when our whole lives have been intertwined? We can’t just pretend it all meant nothing, erase everything.”

“Being with me is an inconvenience for you, Jungkook.”

“Is that why you broke up?”

Ah, right. You never told him the real reason.

The night when you broke up with Jungkook was a bit chaotic.

You hadn’t planned on ending the relationship. Threads of worry had plagued you for some time, and you had been considering breaking up with him, but you never had the courage. You loved him, still do. And losing the one person you’ve trusted since childhood was terrifying.

But that night, while waiting for Jungkook at your favourite convenience store, you grew impatient. Waited for so long that you started eating ramyeon without him. As you sat by the window, gazing at the night sky, you decided that tonight you would break up.

Jungkook had always been busy, and you never minded it. Didn’t even mind it as you were eating ramyeon while pondering how to tell Jungkook. But Jungkook had so many things on his plate, so many worries, and you didn’t want to make his life more complicated by being his girlfriend. He tried so hard to always respond to your texts, tried to call at reasonable times instead of the middle of the night after practise, and promised to meet you at times other than when the sun had long fallen.

Jungkook needed to prioritise things that were more important to him.

And knowing his selfish tendencies, you needed to help him a little.

“Part of it, yeah,” you answer.

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate when he says, “You’re worth the inconvenience.”

You think he holds your hand a little tighter, but maybe you imagined it.

“I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you, and that night, I – I didn’t know if I would ever feel okay again.”

Jungkook was so used to you giving in. Was so selfishly used to having you whenever he wanted, that once you finally pulled away, his world had lost its gravitational pull. Suddenly, he was left adrift, circling aimlessly like a planet that had lost its orbit.

“I still don’t know. I miss you every night and keep wondering how to move on, but I’m not sure if that will ever happen. How do you move on from a love like ours?”

He’s known you for almost his entire life, and having you completely erased from his life felt like something he could never get over. Jungkook went a little insane. Everyone around him noticed his change in behaviour, but he pretended to be clueless, perhaps as a foolish act of hoping that you might return, change your mind, want him again, and never leave. It’s the hopeless romantic in Jungkook that makes him cling to shreds of hope for a better ending – a happy ending.

And maybe it’s not so hopeless after all, he thinks, as he watches your eyes sparkle with gentle love when you meet his gaze.

“Have you never thought about calling me?” he asks. “Never wanted to text back?”

“I almost do every night.”

“What makes you hesitate?” Jungkook steps closer, and it’s so dangerous, but you can’t keep pretending you don’t want him.

Which is why you whisper your next words, staring down at the small space retaining between your bodies.

“Because I know that I’d forgive and not fight.” You want to force your eyes back to him, but can’t. “It’s not like I wanted to break up. I just did it because I thought it was the wisest decision for us.”

“___.” It’s just a soft murmur of your name, slipping off his tongue with more love than it should, and it sends your heart fluttering far too easily. His voice draws your gaze up to him, and you’re met with eyes brimming with pure yearning and raw adoration. You never forgot how he looked at you, but you did underestimate the intense pull of his gaze – how it stirs something deep within you, even now.

“I thought it was for the better, but...” You trail off, lost in his eyes, forgetting what you were trying to explain and deny. Because what does it matter? How does anything matter when he’s here – when he’s here and not a single bit of his love for you has wavered?

Jungkook cups your cheek with his free hand. It pulls you closer to him. His thumb brushes gently across your skin, and the world outside of this moment blurs into insignificance.

You can feel your resolve crumbling, the walls you’ve built around your heart starting to fracture. It’s terrifying and comforting all at once, the way he’s always had this power over you – the way he can unravel you with just a look, a touch, a simple word.

“I don’t want to let you go,” Jungkook says, his voice tight with emotion. His hand remains on your cheek, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go.

“Neither do I,” you confess, barely believing your own words. But voicing it out loud seems to untangle something within you that had been knotted and confused for so long.

Jungkook’s eyes search yours, making sure he heard you right, that this moment is real and not just another dream he’s afraid of waking up from. His thumb stills on your cheek, and you can feel the warmth of his palm spreading across your skin, grounding you, anchoring you.

“Is this okay?” He leans in the slightest bit.

You nod, muttering a small “Yeah” as your gaze lingers on his sparkling eyes, the soft curve of his nose, the tiny mole beneath his lip – everything that reminds you of longing, comfort and the feeling of home.

The moment his mouth presses against yours, you feel a surge of warmth. It’s tender and soft, his mouth brushing against yours with a mix of hesitance and longing. As the kiss deepens it becomes more fervent, more urgent, as if he’s trying to convey everything he’s been holding back.

Your lips move with a slow, deliberate rhythm, and the touch of his tongue sends shivers down your spine. There’s a slight pressure as he cups your face, wanting you closer, while his other hand slides down your back, settling on your waist.

“I hope you know that I didn’t come here with these intentions.” Jungkook murmurs against your lips, his voice husky. But you guide him towards your bed.

“I know. It’s okay.” You straddle his lap. “You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want you to.”

Jungkook’s hands are eager and exploratory, skimming over your shoulders, your back, and down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. His chin rests in the crook of your neck as he breathes in deeply.

“You don’t know how much I missed you,” he mumbles, nose tickling your neck as he snuggles closer to you. “You missed me too, right?” he speaks with an innocent pout on his lips that you don’t even need to see – you know it’s there.

“Of course I did. Why would you think otherwise?” You run your fingers through his silky hair, which is a comfort for both you and him.

“I think I just need to hear you say it.”

He draws back, and a soft smile touches your lips as you see the achingly tortured expression contorting his face – traces of love and relief at having you so close, right where he wants you.

“I missed you.” You keep your eyes on him.

“Again,” he urges softly.

“I missed you.”

Your fingers gently curl around his face.

Jungkook’s lips brush against yours in a fleeting kiss. His forehead falls against yours as your words sink into him, straight to his heart.

“One more time? Please?”

A giggle slips out of you. “I missed you, Jungkook.”

Your laugh dies in your throat when he crashes his lips against yours, more forceful and passionate this time, pulling you so close to him, you feel everything.

Your hips move on their own, instinctively grinding against his lap. He’s hard and the bulge is right where you’re craving him the most. You kiss turns sloppy and needy and it’s filled with heavy breathing.

Jungkook’s hands are all over you. His touches leave tingling sparks everywhere. You’ve gone months without him, and every little brush of his finger makes you lose your mind. Especially when his hand dips into the front of your tiny shorts, lightly grazing the pad of his finger against your panties and making you twitch when he brushes over your clit. You break the kiss, inhaling sharply.

“I wanna make you feel good.” His words are hushed, a slight tremor tinging his voice. His fingers disappear into your panties, rubbing his middle finger along your folds and spreading your wetness. Jungkook is tender as he moves his finger, and you wish you could see him playing with you, watch him be so soft with you because he loves treating you with delicate care, and you love feeling like you’re everything to him.

Your hips buck as he circles your aching clit. You start whine softly as Jungkook applies a little more pressure, his steady, deliberate movements intensifying the sensations as he continues to rub your sensitive spot.

“You like it?” His gaze fixed intently on your reactions to his touches. His doe eyes drink up every nuance of your face and body – each twitch, shudder, and breath. His expression brightens with a trace of satisfaction.

“Feels good,” you reply shakily.

He has you making his fingers all sticky and wet. As Jungkook slowly teases your hole, drawing tiny circles and ever so slightly dipping the tip of his finger inside, your eyes close and your breath catches while you anticipate the familiar stretch of his finger.

Jungkook slides two fingers inside you, and your brows furrow as you feel them burying deep within your pussy. He moves them slowly, each stroke eliciting soft, breathy moans from you. The gradual, teasing rhythm amplifies your pleasure, and with each tender push, your senses heighten, making you ache for more.

“Move your finger like – oh. That’s right. Don’t stop, please.”

His fingers brush against your sweet spot continuously, making you grip his shoulders tightly, your nails digging into his skin as you try to anchor yourself and try to tame the soft trembles of your body as the pleasure reaches you everywhere.

Jungkook holds you close to him by having his hand placed firmly on the small of your back. He keeps you perched on his lap while you lose yourself in the feeling.

As the pleasure builds, you find yourself melting into him, whimpering his name in a gentle hush. The soft sounds of your voice blends with the rhythmic movements of his fingers.

Jungkook feels you tightening around him. He doesn’t increase his pace but keeps his steady pattern going, exactly how he knows you like it. You hide your face on his shoulder, overwhelmed by the fast-approaching high. Your muffled noises sharply contrasting with the squelching sounds coming your shorts.

“Let me see you,” Jungkook gently requests, tugging gingerly at your shirt to draw you back. It’s just a delicate tug, but it’s enough to pull you away from him. You’re too immersed by the intense feelings enveloping you to fully respond.

He catches the exact moment when your moan gets caught in your throat, your lashes flutter shut, and the sweetest glow settles on your face as you reach your climax.

He doesn’t tease you, instead, he lets you revel in the wave of euphoria that pulses through you, your thighs quivering as you gradually come down from your high. As our breath steadies, your foreheads touch, and you exhale heavily through your nose, tickling Jungkook’s face.

He smiles. His eyes reflect a deep satisfaction, because you’re happy and that’s enough.

Jungkook’s hands travel to your sides and he slowly strokes his palms up and down. Your body is warm and shaky and he wants to hold you forever.

“Is it okay that I want more?”

You nod, kiss him, probably a little deliriously, answering, “I want it just as much.”

Your hand glides under his sweater, fingers tracing the contours of his toned stomach. Jungkook wastes no a time pulling the sweater over his head, tossing it carelessly behind you. He helps you shimmy out of your shorts, discarding your clothes in a hasty rush, stealing giggly kisses between each movement, because you need to feel. He playfully comments on how cute your panties are. His finger lazily skims over the little pink ribbon before the material sinks slips down your legs and pools around your feet in a small heap. You giggle shyly.

Just as you want to sink onto your knees, Jungkook grabs you by the elbows, not letting you.

“Want you on the bed, ___. I need to feel you,” he says, voice strained with desperate need. Jungkook leads you onto the bed, gently laying you down. Your head sinks into the soft pillows. He spreads your legs, settling himself comfortably between them.

Your hair is fanned around your head against the pillow. Jungkook can’t help but stare, utterly captivated. He brushes a few strands away from your face, his fingertips lingering as if memorising every curve. His gaze holds a quiet affection, mingled with a sense of awe, like he is seeing you for the first time and falling for you all over again.

A curse slips his mouth as she stared down at your bare pussy, glistening and shining just for him, looking so pretty only for his eyes. For a few seconds, he allows himself to rub his tip over your wet folds. Just gentle brushes, nothing more. You don’t stop him, letting him play a little.

Jungkook is painfully hard, and he dares to slide his tip further down to tease your hole a little. His stare is fixed downcast while he pokes his cheek with his tongue to distract himself from the urge to push himself all the way as he minimally dips his head inside. Jungkook’s so sensitive, he thinks he could cum like this. He’d go insane if he slipped his cock into without protection. He’s let his mind wander to this fantasy a few times and he so desperately wants to feel all of you with no barrier, especially after not having you for so long, but you both have to be careful.

Someday, when you’re older, Jungkook thinks. When he can love you endlessly without always having to consider the consequences.

“Jungkook.” You pull him back to reality, and a faint pink flush colours his face.

He bends over and opens your nightstand drawer, searching for a condom. His fingers brush against several plastic foil packages, and he pauses, lost in thought. He thinks back to the last time he was over at yours. How many were left in the drawer then? Is his mind playing tricks on him, or were there more condoms the last time he was here?

While Jungkook’s mind drifts to you every night his head falls against the pillow in a different city each night – have you been letting other boys warm your bed?

You say his name again, forcing him out of his racing thoughts once more, this time with a note of impatience.

Jungkook tears open the wrapper, tosses it away along with his doubts, and focuses on you again. You chose him, and for now, that’s all that matters to him.

He rolls it down his length. Your eyes fixate on the slow connection of your bodies. Once he’s fully inside, a shaky whimper escapes your throat, trembling as it leaves you. Jungkook begins to move his hips with deliberate thrusts, and your head rolls back, eyes drifting to the ceiling as Jungkook finds his pace.

“You’re so pretty.” His eyes roam over your naked figure, so much adoration and maybe a hint of obsession hiding in them. The white covers beneath you are messy and chaotic, and you lie on top of them like a delicate masterpiece, a striking contrast to the chaos of the bed. The soft light casts a warm glow on your skin, highlighting every curve and contour. The soft swells of your boobs move with every thrust and he enjoys the sight of it.

You grow a little shy beneath his intense gaze. You turn your head and cover your face with your arm.

Jungkook lowers himself, clicking his tongue as he gently pulls your arm away. “Don’t.” His grip is firm on your wrist and he holds it against the covers, preventing you from hiding again. However, his hold on your chin is careful as he guides your gaze back to him. Fingers slightly caressing your skin. “I love everything about you, baby.” His words coax a small smile from you, which he acknowledges with an approving nod and a smile of his own. “You don’t need to hide from me.”

“It’s just been a while.” You bite your lip. The shyness still lingers, like spotting your crush in a crowded room and instinctively hiding, feeling all giddy inside.

Jungkook slows a little, buried so deep inside you, but his movements are precise, hitting the spot that makes your tummy clench.

“I know,” he says softly, tracing his thumb over your lip to free it from your clenched teeth. He plants a little kiss on your mouth, his tongue sliding over your bottom lip to soothe the ache you’ve caused yourself. “I don’t think I’ll last long,” Jungkook admits as his round nose brushes your cheek. You’re so wet and snug around him that he has to focus intently to keep from coming right away. You’re too good, too pretty, occupying every corner of his mind. “Missed you so much. You don’t even know.”

Jungkook’s head falls into the crook of your shoulder. His moans grow a little louder as he moves faster again. He can’t help himself. Feels too good. You wrap your legs around him, allowing him to bury himself even deeper. You pull him closer, throwing your arms around him to have him as close to you as possible while Jungkook repeatedly tells you how much he has missed you and loves you, how he never wants to let go of you and keep you to himself forever. How you are meant for him just as much he is meant for you.

Jungkook sneaks one hand between your bodies and grasps your breast. Keeps a firm squeeze around your flesh while your bed rhythmically hits the wall. All the tender murmurs and quiet gasps of your love had been missing from your room for so long that you began to doubt if Jungkook would ever again fill your bed with his warmth and whispers.

You feel the heat rising on your skin, growing with each passing second, and you can sense it on Jungkook’s body too. His back is hot, slightly slick with a sheen of sweat, and you can’t resist digging your nails into his muscled shoulders, leaving chaotic, frantic lines across his skin. A whine, which you try to suppress, tumbles from your lips as the tingling sensation spreads through you.

Jungkook pulls back, his movements weary yet determined, and peers at you through heavy-lidded eyes.

“Jungkook,” you mumble weakly, and he nods, because he knows.

With a gentle but firm motion, Jungkook shifts, guiding you both onto your sides. He slips an arm beneath your waist, holding you close to his chest as he continues to move inside you. The new position allows him to thrust deeper, and you gasp. His other hand slides down your thigh, hitching your leg over his hip to open you up further.

The intimacy of the position, with your bodies so close and intertwined, makes everything feel more intense, more personal. As you move together, your eyes lock. You see in his eyes the reflection of your own emotions, a mirror of longing, affection.

Tears begin to well up in your eyes, not just from the overwhelming pleasure, but from the sheer depth of the moment, the intimacy of it all, and how much you’ve missed him.

He notices the tears glistening in your eyes. “Baby,” he breathes. “Are those tears for me?”

“I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’m not letting you leave me again.” It’s a promise wrapped in desire. “That’ll never happen again.”

His hand on your waist grips you tighter, and his thrusts become more urgent until you’re both teetering on the edge.

Jungkook’s hips stutter as he loses control, and with one final, deep thrust, he’s all the way inside you, spilling into the condom with a low groan. At the same time, you reach your peak, your body clenching tightly around his length, breathy puffs escaping your lips as the intense tremors take over. Jungkook’s holds you steady through all of it.

He stays inside you, savouring the warmth and closeness for a few more moments before carefully pulling out. He presses soft kisses along your shoulder and neck, his breath still uneven as you both come down from the high.

Later, after Jungkook asked if it’s okay to stay – just as you had been plagued by the thought that he might want to leave, and sighed in relief upon realising you were on the same page, lovesick and obsessed after finding each other again – and after he asked if he could borrow one of his old t-shirts and you giggled, saying they are his anyway (they are more yours than his and you both know it), you’re now cuddled up in bed with your head on his chest, right on top of his heart where you belong.

“Forgot how comfy your bed is.” He nuzzles deeper into the mattress, wriggling beneath you.

“You should visit more often, then.”

Jungkook sniffs a surprised laugh at your flirty remark.

“I should, huh?” He brushes his knuckles over your back. “After the tour, I’ll make sure to drop by as often as possible,” he says. “So much that you might get sick of me.”

You smile. Banter and flirt and giggle with him a bit more before you both drift off to sleep.

But you wonder, every time your eyes flutter open in the dark, is it actually this easy to fall back into normality?

Pretend the last few months didn’t happen and continue as you had never been apart?

Questions swirl in your head all night long, but the answer to your doubts lies right beside you. Unlike you, he isn’t awake, grappling with what’s right and wrong – he’s softly sleeping, peacefully unconscious of your turmoil.

It makes you think, is it really this simple and you’re just too much? Or is it all a mess, and you’re the only one trying to make sense of it?

Maybe you had it all wrong.

And you wonder, the next morning, are you really that surprised to find the spot next to you empty?

[hellbornsworld]

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS(16)°‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔:･°‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔:･

☁ roses | Jungkook X Reader | One-Shot | @keehomania

☁ Heart's Detour | biker!Jungkook x afab!reader | One-Shot | @winterchimez

☁ THE LOVE PROGNOSIS | jungkook x female reader | One-Shot | @awrkive

☁ THE BLACK ORCHID PROJECT | Jeon Jungkook x Reader (Y/N) | Series | @dumbheadblog

☁ Infinity | alien!Jungkook x human!reader | Three-Shot | @runariya

☁ BBYDADDY | JK X Reader | Series | @muniimyg

☁ THE SACRIFICE: Children of the Moon | Jungkook x f. OC | Series | @madrain230

☁ the exile | prince!jungkook x f!reader | Series | @stxrvel

☁ Y(E)ARNED | alien!Jungkook x human seamstress!female reader | Series | @runariya

☁ UMBRELLA | Crush!JK X Reader | One-Shot | @xovisa

☁ Level Up | gamer! female reader x swordsman! jungkook | @taevjim

☁ BAD HABIT | spiderman!jungkook X Reader | One-Shot | @hannieehaee

☁ BORDEAUX ! | CEO!JK X Reader | Series | @frmisnow

☁ CLOSER | jungkook x reader | One-Shot | @ckhaine

☁ DIVINE FEMININE | jungkook x fem!reader | One-Shot | @gimmethatagustd

☁ Prospects | JJK x fem! reader [x KNJ] | Series | @jeoncasino

☁ Chasing Cars | brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader | Series | @oddinary4bts

☁ EAGER DAYS | Idol!JK X Reader | Series | @jeoncopi

☁ Save The Date | Fuckboy!Jungkook x reader | @cherrypandora

☁ The Law of Attraction | Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader (feat. Jimin x Reader) | Series |@jexnkookie

☁ 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 | stalker!jk X “good girl”!reader | One-Shot | @maisanshine

[lovieku]

WORST BEHAVIOR ⋆ 정국

you asked your boyfriend to keep it a secret, but can you?

୨ৎ from the grande series

pairing: bodyguard!jk x idol!fem reader

genre: smau, established secret relationship, fluff

contents: based on this ask, very quick and silly, mingyu appereance, jelly grumpy jk, it girl oc, idk this is corny

a/n: hi lovies 🩷 first of all THERE’S A VIDEO AMONGST THE PICS! it doesn’t show if you scroll through them but it’s there plz stream worst behavior ‼️ this is the first (and last) time i’m making a smau 😭😭 it was fun but also i feel like it’s not giving anything since it’s very short and yall know i Zon’t do short lol… but i wanted to apologize for my absence and keep you busy w this small thing before i come back with a proper fic 🩷 love youuuu always ❣️

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂ ೀ‎

🏷️ perm taglist: @ceellliiinee @jaytheatiny @luvismenu @theyloveyams @stillwjk-channie-lixie @bookstoread199 @girlygguk @vieviela @myngiii @angelxkoo @nnybtitts08 @maariinaaaaa @https-mei @lyywst @mhdelu @apobangpogirlyyy @khadeeeeej @awrkive @nooooooooonnneeeeeee @vantelover1306 @chaueins @cerezasj @coletaehyung @annafarrr @buryhny @deluluisdasolulu @nemelkawar

[justarkive]

TABLE 3 | JJK ch10

“For good service, and cute waitresses.”

pairing: pre!military jk x waitress/secret fuckbuddy!oc

Before Jungkook enlists in the military, his life takes an unexpected turn when he visits a local restaurant with friends and meets a waitress who doesn’t recognize him. Surprised by your lack of star-struck reaction, Jungkook finds himself drawn to your down-to-earth nature, especially his previous struggles with the pressure of constant drama on social media regarding his relationships. Little do you know, Jungkook is about to leave for the military, which inevitably bring’s complications to their connection… do they find a way to fix it?

warnings: SMUT, super emotion heavy chapter, Jungkook is selfish as hell. oc starts getting sus, super domestic shit, field date, profanity, angst, humour, fluff, celebrity au, idol! , mentions of other kpop groups/idols, inner conflict, insecurity, alc consumption, jk cant stop thinking of his enlistment :((

smut warnings: THEY FINALLY FUCK!! protected sex, dry humping, nipple play, deepthroating, oral f + m receiving, missionary, doggy, reverse cowgirl but like her back is on his chest??, spanking, clit rubbing, clit spanking, idk guys its kinda nasty. BIG DICK JUNGKOOK DUH, oc cries during sex, its too big </3 oc is slightly tipsy but not enough to cloud her judgement.

wc: long.

this fic is not meant to represent the real jungkook or any other characters mentioned!

taglist: @jenniebyrubies @dreamersparacosm @darklove2020 @rayyrayy10 @elinaki92

a/n: it took me a little while to get this chapter out so i apologise but its here!! they finally fuck. jungkook is honestly a dick for what hes doing atm but they are so so sosisisoss cuteeeee aaaa!! im not the best at writing smut as you can tell from this probably and my other chapters, but enjoy ;) and as always thank you for reading and lmk what u think!

masterlist < prev | next >

You wake up feeling wrecked.

Like, full-on regretting every life decision that led you to staying on the phone with Jeon Jungkook until 5 a.m. Your eyelids feel like they’re weighted blankets on your eyes, your body refuses to cooperate, and your brain is running on fumes.

Still, you blindly reach for your phone, squinting at the screen. There’s a text waiting for you.

Jungkook: good morning:)

Jungkook: don’t even argue. im picking u up at 8 tonight.

You blink. Once. Twice. But the messages stays the exact same.

You: ??

You: good morning

You: Where are we going??

You: jungkooookkk

You: Hello????

Nothing. No reply.

This man is actually impossible.

You groan, dragging yourself out of bed, already knowing today is going to be a struggle. After a quick omw text to Nari, you somehow get to work. The usual chaos, the usual weird customers, the usual banter with Nari. Nothing out of the ordinary—except for the fact that the hours feel endless.

By the time you finally get home, you’re exhausted, but there’s no time to rest.

Because, of course, Nari is already on your ass.

“Oh my god, why the hell are you moving like a grandma?” she yells, yanking you into the bathroom. “You need to shower, like, now.”

“I just got home—”

“And Jungkook is going to be here in an hour, meaning you have maybe 30 minutes to get ready before the inevitable breakdown over what to wear. Go.”

You grumble but obey, stepping into the shower. The warm water is a blessing, and you end up standing under the spray for way too long, completely losing track of time.

Bad move.

Because when you finally step out, towel wrapped around you, you’re met with Nari’s wild eyes and a frantic, “You have five minutes before Jungkook gets here—”

Cue full-on chaos.

Nari is aggressively blow-drying your hair while you rush through your makeup, both of you talking over each other.

“Why are you taking so long—”

“I lost track of time—”

“You literally always do this—”

“Okay, but you’re not helping—”

The real panic sets in when it’s time to pick an outfit.

“What is he wearing?” you demand, rifling through your closet.

“I don’t know,” Nari replies. “How am i supposed to know?”

You pull out a dress. “This?”

“Too fancy.”

A hoodie. “This?”

“Too casual.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to wear?”

Just as you’re debating throwing on pajamas and giving up entirely, theres a soft knock on the door which you dont particularly notice, too busy rummaging through your closet.

“NO!” Nari practically lunges out of your room for the door, blocking you from going anywhere near it. Opening it unimpressed, seeing Jungkook smug as ever.

“Do not let her know you’re here,” she hisses. “She will lose her shit. Be a gentleman, Jungkook. Wait.”

You frown, shouting from the bedroom. “Who are you talking to?!”

“Um. Myself!”

Suspicious. But you’re too distracted to question it.

Finally, you throw on something casual but cute—jeans and a sweater, safe and simple.

Nari peeks back to where your room is, then finally lets Jungkook in. “Okay, you’re good.”

You turn and leave your room, expecting him to have just arrived—only to find him standing there, looking way too nice. You freeze.

He’s in a button-up.

A fitted one. With nice pants. And his hair is styled in that annoyingly perfect way that makes him look effortlessly cool.

“…Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

“Why are you dressed like that?”

His brows furrow. “Like what?”

“Like—like we’re going to a five-star restaurant.”

Jungkook blinks. Then shrugs, completely unfazed. “Didn’t know what you’d wear, so I played it safe.”

Panic sets in all over again.

“I need to change—”

“You look beautiful.”

“No, no, no, I can’t be underdressed while you look like that.”

Jungkook sighs. “You’re really gonna—”

“Yes.” You’re already bolting to your room. “Give me two minutes.”

Nari watches the scene unfold like it’s her favorite reality show. As soon as you disappear, she turns to Jungkook, arms crossed.

“By the way. Where are you actually taking her?”

Jungkook rubs the back of his neck. “A field.”

Nari stares. Confused, but trusts him anyway.

“A field.”

“…Yeah.”

“Jungkook, you dressed up this much to take her to a field?”

He shrugs again, completely unbothered. “Didn’t want to give it away. And it’s special, promise.”

Nari presses her fingers to her temples. “You realize she’s about to come out looking way too nice for a field, right?”

Jungkook’s expression doesn’t change. “Yeah.”

“…And you’re not gonna warn her?”

“Nope. It’ll be fitting.”

Nari groans, but ultimately just sighs. “Fine. But at least tell her to change out of her heels before you leave, or I’m gonna feel guilty.”

Jungkook smirks. “Deal.”

Two minutes later, you finally emerge, having swapped your casual outfit for something much dressier. Jungkook just smiles, saying nothing.

And as he leads you out the door, you have no idea you’re about to be wildly overdressed for a field.

You give Nari a kiss on the cheek goodbye, her giving you the usual playful warning of not doing anything stupid before you lock the door behind you and let Jungkook lead you to the car.

The warmth of Jungkook’s hand around yours startles you at first. Not because it’s unfamiliar, but because of how effortless it feels. There’s no hesitation in the way he intertwines your fingers with his, no anxious glances over his shoulder like he’s worried about being seen. It’s easy—too easy—and you’re not sure what to make of it. Something’s changed. Something’s made him suddenly not care.

Still, you don’t say anything.

He leads you toward the car, your steps falling in sync with his, and even as he lets go to open the passenger door for you, the absence of his touch lingers. You slip inside, settling into the seat as he rounds the front and slides in beside you.

“Where are we going?” you ask immediately, twisting to face him.

Jungkook merely smirks, hands steady on the wheel as he starts the engine. “Not telling.”

You huff. “Why not?”

“Because,” he hums, shifting gears before pulling out onto the road, “it’s a surprise.”

You narrow your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “I hate surprises.”

“No, you don’t.” He grins, eyes flickering to yours briefly before returning to the road. “Patience, baby.”

The word slips from his lips so naturally, so effortlessly, that it catches you off guard. Your heart skips, but you force yourself to ignore it, focusing instead on the scenery passing outside the window.

The drive is quiet, but comfortable. Every now and then, you steal a glance at him—the way his hands grip the wheel, the sharp cut of his jawline, the soft curve of his lips as he hums under his breath.

It’s when you’re stopped at a red light that he catches you staring. Again.

His head turns slightly, and your eyes meet, his gaze dark and knowing. The corner of his mouth tugs up in amusement, but he doesn’t say anything—just watches you, lets the moment stretch between you until the light changes and he’s forced to look away.

Your face burns as you quickly avert your gaze, clearing your throat.

You swear you hear him chuckle.

By the time you finally arrive, you’re still mildly flustered. But the confusion quickly overtakes that feeling when you see the sign for the park, the open field stretching ahead.

You blink. “Wait—why are we at a park?”

Jungkook cuts the engine, then turns to you with a soft smile. “Trust me.”

You stare at him for a second longer before sighing. “Fine.”

Again, he reaches for your hand, pulling you along with ease as you step out of the car and onto the grassy path. The air is warm, tinged with the soft scent of wildflowers, and the sky is painted in hues of pink and gold, the sun dipping just below the horizon.

It’s beautiful.

And then you see it.

A blanket spread neatly across the grass, fairy lights strung up in the nearby trees, twinkling just faintly against the evening light. There’s a small picnic set up, a couple of bottles of wine and an array of food that—upon closer inspection—looks like it was ordered from a high-end restaurant.

You turn to Jungkook, raising an eyebrow. “You seriously made me dress up for a field?”

He chuckles, the sound deep and warm. “Would you rather I took you to a fancy restaurant?”

You pause, glancing back at the setup. “No… This is perfect.”

And it is. It’s simple and intimate and feels like something entirely Jungkook—something that’s just for the two of you.

You settle down onto the blanket beside him, letting yourself take it all in. The quiet hum of crickets in the distance, the soft glow of the fairy lights, the way Jungkook sits beside you, one leg bent, the other stretched out, his gaze set on the sky.

For a moment, neither of you speak.

Then, finally, he does.

“The reason I brought you here,” he starts, voice quiet, “is because nobody really knows about this spot.” He exhales, running a hand through his hair. “It’s where I’ve always gone to calm down. After work, practice, tours—whenever things got too much.”

You turn to look at him, his features bathed in soft orange light.

“And I felt like you belonged in it,” he continues, finally meeting your gaze. “With me.”

Your breath catches.

And just like that, it’s no longer just a field. It’s his safe place. And now, it’s yours too.

The warm hues of the sunset had long faded into deeper shades of indigo, the sky now dotted with the first few stars peeking through the velvety dusk. The fairy lights strung up around the backyard glowed softly, casting a golden shimmer over the remnants of dinner. Plates pushed aside, your wine glass half-full, and the gentle hum of night settled around the two of you like a comforting embrace. The food is long gone, but the night is still young.

Jungkook, who had spent the last few minutes idly running his fingers along the rim of his water bottle, suddenly cleared his throat. “Okay, don’t laugh,” he started, reaching down beside his chair, “but I saw this thing online, and I thought it might be fun.”

You raised a curious brow as he pulled out a canvas, still blank, resting it carefully on the blanket between you. “Painting?” you mused, tilting your head.

“Not just painting,” he corrected, shifting in his place as if suddenly second-guessing himself. “It’s this thing where, like, one person starts a painting, then passes it to their partner, and they add something to it. And you just keep passing it back and forth until it’s finished. Thought it’d be nice if we tried it.”

The idea was so… him. Thoughtful, sentimental. Something that would leave behind a memory you could actually see, touch. Your heart swelled at the simplicity of it, the sweetness.

“You think of everything, don’t you?” you murmured, reaching over to take his hand, squeezing it softly.

His ears pinked, but he tried to brush it off with a casual shrug. “I just—thought it’d be nice. To make something together.”

You traced your fingers over the smooth surface of the canvas, something bubbling inside you that you hadn’t felt in a long time. A nostalgia, a fondness for something you’d once loved.

“I used to paint a lot,” you admitted, eyes flickering up to him. “When I was younger. But life got busy, and I kind of just… stopped.”

Jungkook’s eyes lit up. “No way. You never told me that.”

You smiled, a little wistfully. “I guess I forgot. Or maybe I just didn’t think about it much anymore.”

He hummed, thoughtful. “I get that,” he admitted, glancing down at the canvas. “Sometimes I wonder if—” He hesitated, lips quirking in a wry smile. “If I wasn’t, you know, in one of the biggest bands in the world, maybe I’d dabble in art a little more. I love painting from time to time.”

You laughed softly. “Jungkook, you are an artist. Your art just exists in a different form.”

His gaze flickered to yours, something tender settling in his features. He didn’t say anything, just smiled, that small, knowing smile that always made your chest tighten.

A quiet moment passed between you before he reached for the paintbrush, dipping it into the paint and pressing the first stroke onto the canvas. A soft, curved line.

Then, he turned it toward you.

“Your turn,” he murmured.

The canvas starts out blank with Jungkook’s random green curved line, a fresh slate for the both of you to bring something beautiful to life. You sit cross-legged on the grass, the cool night air brushing against your skin, while Jungkook kneels beside you, sleeves rolled up, eyes alight with quiet amusement. His brush strokes are careful at first, blending soft pastels into delicate swirls. You mirror him, dipping your brush into a gentle shade of yellow, filling in the spaces between his colors, and for a while, it’s peaceful—just the two of you, creating something together.

Until Jungkook, the menace that he is, drags his brush across the page and suddenly there’s a cartoonish face staring back at you. A dumb little smiley face, right in the middle of your work.

You gasp, scandalized. “Jungkook!”

“What?” He grins, clearly unrepentant. “I think it adds character.”

“You just ruined it,” you huff, grabbing your brush and scribbling wildly over his addition, turning the face into an abstract mess of color.

“Oh, we’re doing that now?” He challenges, eyes gleaming, before he swipes his brush across the canvas again, this time completely disregarding any previous attempt at an actual painting. You do the same, jabbing color after color onto the canvas until it’s an explosion of chaos—brilliant, vibrant, utterly nonsensical. You’re both laughing now, breathless with amusement, hands stained with paint.

“Okay, fine,” Jungkook leans back, dramatically sighing. “You can have it.”

“Really?” You brighten, reaching for the canvas.

“You thought you could get away with it so easily?” His tone is teasing, and before you can react, he swipes his paint-covered fingers across your cheek, smearing blue and red onto your skin.

Your jaw drops.

You’re too whipped- more than you’d like to admit- to care that Jungkook has just ruined the full face of makeup you’d rushed through.

“Jungkook.”

He just grins. “What?”

“You’re dead.”

The next few seconds are a blur. You launch at him with your own paint-covered hands, swiping green onto his nose, red across his jawline. He yelps, scrambling up onto his feet, and then you’re chasing each other across the field, laughing so hard your sides ache. Jungkook catches you by the waist at one point, spinning you around, making you shriek before you retaliate by dragging your paint-slicked fingers through his hair.

“Okay, okay, truce!” He gasps out between laughs, both of you collapsing onto the grass, completely out of breath.

The world is quiet now, the night sky stretching above you in endless black, stars twinkling like distant dreams. Jungkook’s hand finds yours in the grass, fingers lacing together with ease. Neither of you say anything for a while—just lying there, hearts still racing, skin covered in smudges of color, the remnants of your laughter still lingering in the air.

And somehow, it’s perfect.

Lying on the grass, still out of breath, you soak in the quiet hum of the world around you. The night air is cool against your sweat-slick skin, but the warmth of Jungkook’s body beside you keeps you from shivering. The only sound between you is the occasional rustling of the grass and the distant chirp of crickets. It’s comfortable—so comfortable that you could almost forget that moments like this don’t last forever.

Jungkook, however, is still stuck in his head.

He shifts slightly beside you, staring up at the sky, his fingers absentmindedly playing with a loose thread on his sleeve. You feel it before he even speaks—the way his energy shifts, his body tensing ever so slightly as if he’s about to break the silence.

And then he does.

“Hey…”

His voice is quiet, thoughtful. You turn your head, looking at him, waiting for whatever is on his mind. He hesitates, lips parting just enough, but no words come out at first. There’s something there—something heavy, weighing down his chest.

You don’t rush him. You just wait.

Jungkook swallows, gripping at the fabric of his hoodie, his heartbeat thrumming against his ribs. Tell her. Namjoon’s voice echoes in his mind. You have to tell her.

But he doesn’t want to.

He doesn’t want to break this. Doesn’t want to watch the light dim in your eyes. Doesn’t want to see the shift in your body language when you realize he’s leaving. Not yet. Not when he still has this—still has you.

So instead, he blurts out, “You should come to my tour next week.”

You blink, caught off guard. “What?”

“My show. You should come.” He turns his head to look at you now, his eyes searching yours, like he’s hoping you won’t catch onto whatever he was originally going to say. “You’d like it. You’d get to see me perform properly, you know, instead of just messing around.” He flashes you a smile, playful, teasing, but there’s a flicker of something deeper beneath it.

Your lips curve up. “You mean instead of hearing you hum while you burn eggs on my stove?”

“Exactly,” he breathes out, relieved that you’re going along with it. “Totally different experience.”

You roll onto your side, propping yourself up on your elbow. “Well… yeah, of course, I’ll come.”

Something in Jungkook’s chest tightens. You don’t hesitate—not even for a second. He doesn’t know why, but that makes it worse.

“Good,” he murmurs, looking back up at the sky. His heart is still racing, but not from the run earlier.

He knows he’s being selfish.

But he can’t bring himself to say it. Not tonight. Not yet.

The walk back to his car is slower than it needs to be. Neither of you say it out loud, but you’re both dragging out the moment, reluctant for the night to end. The streets are quieter now, the city winding down, but the tension between you is anything but.

Jungkook’s hand brushes against yours for the third time, but he doesn’t take it. You don’t know if you’re disappointed or relieved.

When you finally reach his car, he hesitates before unlocking it, turning to face you instead. His eyes roam over your face, like he’s trying to memorize the night through you.

“You have work tomorrow?” he asks, voice softer now.

You shake your head. “No.”

He exhales, like that was the answer he was hoping for. “Do you wanna come to my place?”

The words settle between you, heavy with meaning. His fingers drum lightly against his car door as he watches for your reaction. There’s no pressure in his voice, no expectation. Just quiet hope.

Your heart pounds against your ribs, but your lips part before your brain catches up. “Yeah,” you say, barely above a whisper.

His lips twitch into a small smile, and he unlocks the car. The drive to his apartment is quiet, but it’s not uncomfortable. The air is thick with unspoken words, anticipation weaving through every glance he steals in your direction.

When he pulls up to his building and kills the engine, he turns to look at you properly. “We don’t have to if—”

“I want to,” you interrupt, already reaching for the door handle.

His brows lift in surprise before he lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he follows you out. You don’t know what’s going to happen next, but as you step into the elevator beside him, feeling the weight of his gaze on you, you know one thing for sure—tonight isn’t over yet.

You step into Jungkook’s apartment, the soft creak of the door marking the start of another quiet evening together. The place is… neat. Too neat. There are no plushies, no bright colors, just the quiet calm of minimalism. A stark contrast to your pastel-yellow chaos at home.

Jungkook is still holding the canvas you brought in from the field, walking in front of you. Your feet are sore—aching from running around the field, being on your feet for hours. You don’t say anything, though. There’s no need to complain. But Jungkook notices immediately, like he always does, his sharp eyes catching every detail, even the smallest of ones. You feel his gaze on you, and when you look up, he’s already sitting down next to you on the couch, inspecting your feet.

“Let me help,” he murmurs, gently tugging your feet onto his lap.

You blink in surprise. “What are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he gently removes your sneakers, revealing blisters that have formed at the top of your heels. The sight makes him frown, and you can’t help but feel a little embarrassed, even though it’s nothing new to you.

“They’re nothing,” you protest, but he’s already examining your feet, looking concerned.

“Don’t act tough. This looks like it hurts,” he says softly, his voice gentle but serious. He disappears into his bathroom for a moment, coming back with a small tube of ointment.

You tilt your head in confusion. “I’m fine, Jungkook. Really.”

But he doesn’t listen. He’s determined. He squeezes some ointment onto his finger and carefully starts rubbing it on your blisters. His touch is soft, careful, like he’s trying to heal more than just your feet. And there’s something so intimate about the way he’s doing it—like this simple act of care is his way of showing affection.

The quiet in the room feels warmer now, as he focuses on tending to your blisters, his brow furrowed in concentration. You lean back against the couch, feeling the warmth of his hands and the soft hum of the apartment. It’s almost… domestic. The sound of the soft swish of ointment being applied, the quiet hum of his voice as he checks if you’re okay.

“You’re stubborn,” he murmurs, focusing on each blister with an intensity you didn’t expect from such a simple task. “Let me take care of you.” His voice is low, almost soft. It’s the kind of tone that makes you feel like you’re the only thing that matters in that moment.

You can’t help but smile, just a little. “I get these all the time at work,” you say, trying to brush it off. But it’s clear from the way he’s treating you that it’s not just about the blisters. It’s about something deeper—something you can’t quite explain. But he knows what it is.

“That’s the problem,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over the sensitive skin of your ankle. “You don’t take care of yourself enough.”

You chuckle lightly, half-drunk from the wine earlier. “What do you mean? I’m fine. You’re acting like I’m falling apart.”

Jungkook’s lips twitch into a smile, but he says nothing. Instead, he finishes rubbing in the ointment, his eyes still soft as they meet yours. “You should let me take care of you more,” he adds, his words careful but intentional.

There’s a brief moment of silence, and you finally pull your feet back from his lap, sitting up. You glance around his apartment again, the stark, clean surfaces, the minimalist furniture that looks like it could belong to anyone but him. It’s… boring. Everything looks so empty. So… plain.

You smirk, teasing him. “This place is so boring, Jungkook. You need some color. And, like, a few toys… maybe a stuffed animal or two.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “You think I need stuffed animals?”

You nod. “A hundred percent. Your apartment is practically a morgue without them.”

Jungkook chuckles, but there’s a soft blush creeping onto his cheeks. He runs a hand through his hair, looking a little flustered. “What do you mean? It’s—”

“You need some of my energy in here,” you continue, tipsy confidence taking over. You look around the room again and immediately start pointing out places where you’d put everything. “That shelf would be perfect for a few extra plushies, maybe a little neon light over there,” you gesture towards the corner of the room. “The couch could use a yellow throw. Maybe… a pillow? Or ten?”

Jungkook laughs, but there’s a nervous edge to it. “Maybe you should just do it, then,” he says. You can see the shy glint in his eyes, as if the idea is both absurd and exactly what he needs.

And you’re already nodding, a little too tipsy to be subtle. “I will,” you say with a grin, “It’s all part of my master plan. You’ll love it.”

The alcohol buzz makes you bold, and you’re already imagining what his place would look like, completely transformed into something warmer. More you. Maybe a little chaotic, but at least it would have personality.

Jungkook watches you, still a little flustered but clearly enjoying the way you’re taking charge. You feel a sudden warmth in your chest as you realize that maybe… maybe it’s just the beginning. This apartment. This moment. The way he’s looking at you.

Maybe you’re already home.

You’re curled up on the couch again with Jungkook, the TV playing something in the background, though neither of you are really paying attention. You’re lost in your own thoughts, flicking through your phone, when suddenly Jungkook shifts beside you.

“About these plushies,” he says, voice a little too casual, like he’s trying to hide the excitement. He disappears into his room for a second, and when he comes back, he’s holding something big, something fluffy.

Your eyes widen in disbelief. “Wait, no way…” you murmur, eyes fixed on the plushie he’s holding. It’s huge, like, absurdly huge for something meant to be hugged, and when you finally realize what it is, you burst out laughing.

“Seriously? How have you not had this on display?” you say, reaching out to touch it. “This is adorable.”

He grins sheepishly. “I’ve had it for years. Won it at an arcade, I don’t know, just never thought it was something I should show to someone.”

It’s a Hello Kitty plushie, and it’s wearing a purple onesie. Not just any onesie, though – it’s soft purple with a rainbow fade, almost like cotton candy. The plushie’s face is as sweet as ever, but the oversized onesie adds this adorable charm to it. Jungkook’s expression as you ogle it is almost funny in how genuinely embarrassed he looks, though you can tell there’s a soft, endearing pride hiding behind it.

You’re trying not to laugh too loudly, but it’s hard when you’re holding it in your arms like it’s the greatest thing ever. “Jungkook, this is too cute, I have something exactly like this from when i was young” you say, squeezing it to your chest. “How have you not shown this to me before? This is, like, peak childhood nostalgia.”

Before you know it, you’re tugging at the plushie, not letting go. “No, this is mine now,” you tease, pulling it away from him. Jungkook grins, and the next thing you know, you’re both in a tug-of-war, both unwilling to admit that you secretly want to keep the thing for yourself.

The fight only lasts a few seconds, though, and you find yourself tumbling into his lap (On accident… obviously.) the plushie now caught between you both. You’re laughing, but it’s a different kind of laugh – one that feels deeper, more genuine, like you’re both letting go of everything and just enjoying the moment.

For a second, you stop pulling at the plushie, both of you just breathing and looking at each other.

Jungkook’s hand is on your waist, his touch warm and steady. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and the energy between you two shifts.

The playful moment is still there, but it’s mixed with something else now—something more intimate, something that’s been building between you two for a while now. You can feel the tension rising as his hand brushes against your skin, and his breath becomes heavier. You’re so close now, you can feel his heartbeat in his chest as your body presses against his.

You both know what’s about to happen, but for a moment, neither of you move. It’s a moment suspended in time, the world outside of the two of you disappearing.

That’s when you feel it. You feel the hard evidence of his desire pressing against you. Jungkook’s hands immediately gripping your waist harder, stronger. This time- he’s not scared, he’s not hesitating. As if he’s been waiting for this as much as you have.

He pulls you closer, his smirk mischievous as he ground up into you. You haven’t even got started and you’re already fucking drenched. “Feel that?” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. “Feel how much I want you?”

You moan softly, body arching into his, your hands tangling in his hair. “Shut up, kiss me,” you demand, pulling his lips to yours.

The kiss was hungry, carnal, nothing at all like the previous pecks or quick kisses you’ve exchanged. Your lips finally meet, and he wastes no time. His tongue invades your mouth as his hips move against yours in a rhythm that was both teasing and relentless.

Dry humping jungkook was… electric in a way, you could do it for hours, the friction between your bodies sending waves of heat straight to your pussy. Like seriously. There was something different about doing it with him, like you could probably do this rather than fuck-

A lie. But pretty close to the truth.

You feel your panties growing damp, clinging to you like it’s second skin, and you knew he could feel it too. You will yourself to push away the icky feeling and focus on the pleasure instead.

“You’re so wet,” He murmurs against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “You like this?”

You bite your lip, biting back a smile, nodding as he stood up suddenly. Your about to protest until he lifts you so… effortlessly and it has your panties absolutely drenched.

His strength was intoxicating. And you wrap your legs around his dainty, tiny waist, hands gripping his shoulders. He’s kicking the door open, rushing to what you can only guess is his bedroom, and you have no time to even process your surroundings, not like you’re expecting anything different than a bed and some boring white walls, maybe a desk, until his mouth is back on yours.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered, his lips brushing your neck as he carries you to the bed. Compared to his particularly rough way of handling you previously, he sets you down gently, just long enough to rip off his shirt, revealing his tatted arms and muscular chest. But after that, his hands are immediately back at your skin. You swear you see them itching to touch your skin while he took off his shirt as if removing his fingers from your warmth electrocuted the poor man-

The soft glow of his lamp casts golden hues across his skin, tracing every ridge and contour like a painter’s careful brushstrokes. And now you really take him in, hands running down the expanse of his chest and his abs. And he lets you.

His tattoos on his arm shift with every slow breath, the inked designs stretching over taut muscle, telling stories in a language only his body knows. Shadows dip between the carved lines of his abs, the definition sharp yet effortless, a testament to years of quiet discipline.

His collarbones catch the light just right, leading your gaze lower, where the steady rise and fall of his chest keeps time with the quiet space between you. He’s beautiful—undeniably so—but it’s not just the way he looks. It’s the way he holds himself, the quiet confidence in his stance above you, the warmth of his gaze when he catches you staring.

“Like what you see?,” he smirks, his tone low and teasing. Like always.

Without hesitation, you get up to your knees, ignoring him. Jungkook’s clearly taken a back when you start fiddling with his dress pants. Whimpering like a fucking dog. Mentally thanking yourself for drinking some wine cause you probably would faint doing this sober.

You aren’t waiting any longer. The sexual tension between you both has become unbearable recently and if today is another test to your patience…you’re definitely failing.

“Please-“ Your fingers trembling slightly as you unzip his pants, pulling them down to reveal the print in his black calvins.Pawing at his boxers. He helps you a bit, pulling them down and cradling your cheek with the other hand, almost as if he’s keeping you and himself grounded.

His cock springs free, and you shamelessly ogle at it. Thick and throbbing, he’s big. You knew he’d be big. There was always something about Jeon Jungkook that screamed ‘big dick energy’ - Like Nari would say.

A singular vein starts up from the bottom, leading all the way up to his engorged, pink, wet tip. His dick is clean of pubes around the base, but he has one thing that has always had you absolutely weak in the knees. A happy trail. Faintly trailing up just underneath where his abs start, and you genuinely don’t know how you’re still steady on your knees.

You aren’t really. His mattress is far too soft to kneel comfortably, but you don’t really care about it.

You waste no time when Jungkook’s patience has ran thin and he’s suddenly wrapping his tattooed hand around the base of his cock, filling the room with nasty, lewd, wet noises as he strokes it, and before you know it, he’s swinging it across your cheek with a soft smack before finally you wrap your needy lips around his head.

You tease him first, yet you don’t know if you’re teasing him or yourself- You tease him with slow, deliberate licks, savoring the slightly salty taste of his precum as his groans fill the space around you. “Fuckk-“ he moans out loud, and you’re taken aback by how vocal he is, yet you dont let it distract you from the real mission at hand… or mouth.

He threads his fingers through your hair, and it feels so fucking intentional and intimate you cant help but break the eye contact. His thrusts at first into your mouth start shallow- as if he’s hesitating. Testing the waters. But once your soft sucking turn into full on gagging around his cock, he’s gripping your hair tighter, guiding you deeper.

You don’t even know why. Usually you aren’t the one for deepthroating, in fact you absolutely detest it. But it’s different when it’s him, and you think you know why.

You moan around him, impossible not to. The vibrations sending him closer over the edge already, but he holds back. “Take it,” he instructs. You look up again, and he looks like he’s in a different world. You aren’t surprised when you see him staring right back at you, and you abide, hollowing your cheeks as much as you possibly can for him as he starts to fuck your throat, his hips snapping forward in a rhythm that was both rough and desperate.

The room is full. Full. Of obscene noises. Some you are sure you’ve definetly never heard before in your life. And you didn’t even know you could make them. They’re mixing with his own moans, and for the weirdest reason- your mind slips to the fact he has a dog- Bam infact, who’s probably somewhere waddling around in Jungkook’s apartment waiting to be put to sleep. You completely forgot to meet him. Oh dear. That poor dog…

Anyways.

You pull off with a pop, licking your lips and grinning up at him. He looks down at you, carefully removing the sweaty stray hairs rhat have stuck to your forehead and you can’t help but nuzzle slightly into his hands. You can’t help but think when you look back up that there’s something different about the way he looks at you.

Recently, you’ve gotten used to it. Since the first night you slept over, and Jungkook tasted you as if he was eating dessert for the first time ever. When he woke you up with breakfast. That specific way he looked at you and made you feel so… loved? you couldn’t handle it.

But this time, it’s different. It feels more intense, more intimate. You don’t dwell on it too long, fearing the outcome of it.

Your lips are swollen and shiny when you finally break the silence, it getting far too heavy than what this was- “Your turn,” You tease, breaking the tension, pushing him back onto the couch. You straddle him after ripping off your soiled panties and your sad excuse of a dress, which has now became a bundle of fabric resting above your waist. Thighs brushing against his, your poor little clit is throbbing as you feel his cock pressing against her.

You sit up for a minute, looking around the room and as if Jungkook can read your mind, you’ve noticed that he basically can, he’s reaching over to the nightstand, pulling out a packet of condoms.

You roll it on after ripping it open with deliberate slowness, giving a few languid strokes to his cock, which was now as hard as ever, and it’s shining a deep red in the light of his lamp, before you straddle his meaty thighs again, you’re sure you’ve leaked all over them- but you can’t bring yourself to care anymore.

Your eyes lock on his, and you will yourself not to look away. “Impatient?” he smirks, but you just smile and nod, positioning his cock at your entrance, nudging your folds slightly.

The moment you sink down on him for the first time it’s… euphoric. It feels like it goes on forever, stretching out as long as possible. It’s different to anything you’ve ever felt before, and you’re sure it has nothing to do with the sheer size of his dick- no. It’s because it’s simply him. And you know it. His cock fills you in ways that you could never imagine at home when you felt particularly lonely and needed some quick satisfaction from your fingers.

You look down at him, seeing that this position was probably not the best choice for the first time a dick this size is entering you, a pained expression on your face. Earlier, the slight buzz of wine had you particularly cocky and to be honest- you weren’t expecting Jungkook to be this… big. He notices your discomfort, his hands finding your waist like it’s second nature.

“Slow, don’t rush.” You nod, trying your hardest to settle the ache in your walls, trying your hardest to force your expression to be neutral, but it’s the hardest part now, his base- which is noticeably thicker than the rest of his length.

Frustration slowly builds up in you, your eagerness to please and also your eagerness to chase your own pleasure and release eating you up, but when Jungkook notices- because of course he does- he immediately stops you by tightening his hold on your waist and he holds you there.

“Too big?” He smirks, but his usual cocky remarks do nothing to help your frustration like it usually does, and he notices immediately. The furrow of his concentrated brows softening as you slip off of his dick and sit on his thighs with a huff.

He’s leaning up to cradle your face, kissing the corner of your lips with a sweet peck. Your own embarrassment creeping up, evident of the slight red blush on your neck. “Hey.”

You feel your own tears creeping up and betraying your attempted facade of being well… tough. It’s clear however, Jungkook isn’t convinced, he’s sitting up now. The ache in his cock suddenly not so overwhelming as he watches your tears get the best of you. “God this is so stupid- I don’t know why i’m crying-“

He shushes you. Simply hugs you, and suddenly the need to please- the need to clear your own pleasure- it’s gone as fast as it came. Jungkook’s arms ground you, you’re still slightly buzzing from the wine, and for a bit, you just lay there. The tears have somehow come to a stop, and you just breathe. For once tonight you finally breathe. Bare chest pressed against his, and despite how sexual it all sounds, its everything but.

Its been a while- A few minutes maybe, but the silence has slowly become deafening and the twitching of Jungkooks still-hard cock beneath your stomach has definitely not gone unnoticed. And moreso the ache in your lower abdomen. He notices the shift- how suddenly you brush off your discomfort. And like the gentleman that he’s always been, has none of it.

“Hey- Stop-“ You’re scrambling around in his arms, trying to shift your position. “We don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable okay? Relax, i’m not going anywhere.”

“Please-“ You’re grinding up on his cock now, folds melting around his base like butter- moulding to the shape of it, as if you’re pussy’s never getting a taste of it again, trying to remember it. Above you, Jungkook’s gritting his teeth, his own pleasure being satisfied by you simply grinding on his dick, but the guilt from before eats at him, and he can’t focus.

He’s opening his mouth to say something before you get up, repositioning his cock at your entrance. You’ve had enough. Deciding to get over it. Get over the pain and ride his dick like you fucking need it to breathe oxygen. You don’t care, it’s happening.

Jungkook sees your determination, he is however, hesitant. The second his tip is swallowed by your lips, hes groaning, using every bit of composure to not thrust his whole cock into you and fuck you dumb. “Slow.”

It’s simple, his words, but they help. Tremendously. You slowly start sinking down, the easy part being a breeze, until you reach the familiar barrier and stretch of his base. He’s gripping your waist tighter than ever now, and you focus on his nails that dig into your skin as you lean down and capture his lips in a kiss.

Just to distract you.

You moan into his mouth when you finally get past it, smiling on his own lips.

Encouragement, thats all you needed. And despite the pain of the stretch, Jungkook’s own moans that spill into your throat distract you enough to start moving. “You’re doing so good. Im so proud-“

Your walls clench around him, as you gasp, head falling back when you sit up and detach from his lips as he fills you up completely.

“You’re so tight,” he murmurs, hands gripping your thighs. You finally pick up the pace, the ache from earlier soothing down a bit until its finally gone. And you laugh. You probably look so fucking stupid, but you laugh. Bouncing on his cock, the friction finally sending waves of pleasure through you.

Jungkook’s always been fiddly. Being unable to keep his hands at one task for maybe no longer than five minutes. He decides his hands get bored of gripping your thighs, though they were really there so he kept his composure. Now they grab at your breasts, squeezing them softly, leaning up to lick the little nubs that erupt from between his fingers. And “Ffuck-“ It’s great. It’s fucking great. Because now you’re gaining confidence, his tongue just laps at them the same way he did with your pussy, and you gain speed. Satiating both of your pleasures.

Your plump ass bounces with each movement, soft slaps filling the otherwise quiet room. Jungkook of course, moves on from your tits to grab and squeeze at your ass. Perky breasts freeing from his hold and jiggling as you moved. He watches intently, letting you go at your own pace, and your heart just fucking clenches at it, he cares about you so much. Eyes dark with desire. “Yeah, babe.”

You go at it for a while, a mix of bouncing on his cock and grinding your little clit down on his stomach, before the pace suddenly is doing nothing to stimulate the throbbing in your core and before you know it he pulls out briefly, the loss making you whimper. And he redeems himself cause hes such a good boy. Gently flipping you around, helping you position on your hands and knees, pushing your back down into his sheets, which you also make a mental note of asking him what fabric softener he uses, and smoothing his hands down the expanse of your spine. He rubs the tip of your cock against your folds, fucking his cock there briefly before shoving it back into you in one quick move from behind.

“That’s it,,” he growls, his thrusts deep and relentless.

There’s something different about his movement now. It’s no longer slow. Calculated. It’s rather needy and rough, and you’re moaning obnoxiously, sure the neighbours are probably screaming into their pillows due to all the racket you two have made, but you dont care. Not anymore.

“Jungkook-“ He’s leaning down, hard chest pressed to your back. The proximity makes you blush, and the heat of his body envelopes your own, quickly making you realise how cold his room is.

His lips press against your ears, “Ugh, fuck” Deep, raspy moans travelling down them, and his thrusts dont lose rhythm. Not once.At all. His needy hands grab at whatever he can, your waist, your tits, briefly pulling on your nipples before he’s leaning back up and delivering a sharp smack to your ass. It’s light, though, as if he’s worried if you wont like it.

And you’re quick to show him you very much do.

“Jungkook!” His head is tucked into your neck against, lips lapping up at the sensitive skin there, your manicured fingers grab at his hair, pulling him closer, trying your hardest to balance on one hand, your body being thrown forward with every single thrust.

And of course, he’s teasing you again. Giving you a fat, wet kiss on your cheek before ripping away from your hold on his hair and slowing his thrusts down.

He watches your pussy just swallow up his cock up in awe, slowing down his thrusts. Slow enough to make you scramble around, thrusting your ass back against his hips. And he stops you. Because he likes to torture himself, but he also wants to hold himself back. Cause he knows he’ll regret coming now.

He switches it up after trailing kisses along your back, soothing your whines with them. Gently. His ever so gentle hands pull your little body up and rest your back against the mattress. Cock still tucked inside you. And he realises that moment on, that hes so fucking whipped for you. And it’s dangerous.

Not like he hasn’t been since the start, but still.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, spitting down at your pussy, just because, pulling out again. Chuckles at the whines of protest from you. Slaps the tip of his cock against your pussy until he cant physically handle it and then he’s leaning down to kiss you. You open your mouth, ready to protest until he pushes your back onto the pillows.

“Spread,” he commands, his voice firm but laced with desire. And you obey. Like a “Good fucking girl.” Your breath hitching. Confused when he retracts completely, only to widen your eyes when he’s arching his body down and getting so close to your pussy until-

“Fuck!” His tongue comes out, licking at your folds, lapping at your hole, his fingers join in to rub your clit in slow, torturous circles. It’s nothing different to the first time he ate you out, but theres something different in the way it feels. And you can’t quite pinpoint exactly what it is, but decide you won’t dwell on it further when a particularly harsh suck is delivered to your clit. “Mmmhhgh-“ He’s moaning. Full on fucking moaning into your pussy, and you’re not sure you can handle tonight any longer.

You were close, so close, hips bucking against his mouth as you whimper his name. Grabbing at his locks, frantically tugging. You’re probably hurting his poor scalp, but you don’t care. And Jungkook? He looks like he’s absolutely loving it. Theres some movement on the bed, and surprisingly it’s not from your insistent squirming around, instead, Jungkook is grinding his cock into the duvet.

He goes at it for a bit longer. And for a millionth time tonight, you whine at his audacity to edge you…again! He presses one little kiss to your clit, and it makes the pink on your cheeks turn a darker red.

“Patience,” He pulls away before you can cum. You’re whining once again, at this point it’s all you can fucking do, but he’s quick to shush you. Moving you again with that same gentleness he’s had for half the night.

You’re now sat on his lap, except this time reverse cowgirl style. Now feeling extra confident, you slip his fat cock in your walls, moaning louder than ever tonight. Your close, He is too. You can tell by the way his cock slightly twitches inside of you. “So b-big.”

“Babe, fuck-“ Jungkook manages to get out. You don’t see the tortured expression on his face from how he’s been holding back this entire night, but you can hear it in his voice. And you start bouncing on his cock with a speed that you weren’t even sure was possible.

“Shit! Shit! Shit-“ Your hips are moving up and down with his now, and he can’t even keep up with the immense speed of your thighs clapping down on his. You bend down, grabbing on his knees for support, drooling onto them. You can practically see him smirking behind you ass he grabs at your ass cheeks like they’re fucking stressballs, watching them clap in his hands in absolute awe. A ring of white has accumulated under the condom, and the sight of your other hole just winking at him has him so tempted to just-

“Ah!” His calloused thumb starts rubbing at it, slow at first, but when your pussy clenches around his cock, he rubs at it rampant.

God this is so embarrassing.

You’re so fucking close. And at the worst timing ever, your knees start giving out, but Jungkook notices, and is also chasing his own release he’s been edging against the whole night, and he cant help it when he’s frantically grabbing your waist and pulling you back, your back now meeting his sweaty chest.

“Harder! Harder!” You chant between your gargled moans, he takes over, the speed of how you rode his cock just a few seconds is nothing to how fast he’s just jackhammering up into you now. “Fuck Jungkook!”

Wrapping his tatted arm around you tightly, his other hand is around your breasts, forearm pushing them up. You feel his frantic breaths and moans against the skin of your back, shifting slightly so your heads are next to eachother.

Jungkook genuinely has no fucking idea how he hasn’t cum. Especially when you turn his head to kiss him, even though you’re both practically moaning incoherent sentences that just sound like begs and pleas into eachothers mouths rather than actually kissing him. His arm moves down, rubbing at your little clit in fast circles, ignoring how his hand slips around occasionally cause of how wet you are.

You kiss him, shoving your tongue around his mouth, moaning into it. “Mmm, fuck Kook-“

The nickname slips from your mouth. And it seems to set him off, cause he’s looking at you properly now. Looking so deep into your eyes that you have to shift your gaze elsewhere. And before you know it.

He’s literally fucking drilling into your pussy.

“Say it again.” A spank to your clit.

“Kook!-“ Hands grab at your face again, holding your chin. Way harder compared to the gentle touch hes gotten you used to. Forcing you to look him in the eyes, making your lips pucker up in front of his as he pecks them.

“Cum on my cock like you were fucking born for it-“ He forces your gaze to your pussy, and that’s what does it, cause it finally comes crashing down on you.

“Nggghhgg! FUCK JUNGKOOK-“ He rubs at your clit even faster now, prolonging the orgasm that just rips through your whole body. His thrusts are relentless and he dosent stop, until he’s moving his face back to yours, moaning into your mouth as his cum spills in the condom.

He doesn’t slow down until you beg. Until you swear you see stars. But he keeps his cock tucked into you, practically eating your face at this point with short, little thrusts into your pussy. “Fuck.”

——

You’re lying on the couch in his shirt, the heat in his room finally starting to get far too uncomfortable, leading to Jungkook carrying you to the sofa. Not after cleaning the bed up by himself, insisting you sat awkwardly on his desk and watch. Not after he’d cleaned you up and hugged you obnoxiously tight until you had to tickle him for him to loosen his grip. Not until he calms you down with his lips against your scalp, leg tucked around his waist as if this was a regular thing between you.

And it probably is at this point.

The fabric swallows you up as you relax into the soft cushions. Jungkook’s in his own shirt, and his boxers, which—of course—look way too good on him, as usual. You feel like a kid playing dress-up in his oversized shirt and your own pair of his boxers that you borrowed. Your ruined underwear probably tucked somewhere between the mattress and his unsurprisingly boring headboard. You know it’s ridiculous, but you’re too comfortable to care.

The air is warm from the low hum of the AC, and the quiet around you is peaceful. Maybe too peaceful. It feels a little too… perfect. The kind of perfect that makes you want to take a deep breath, but you’re scared it might slip away if you do.

Jungkook’s lounging next to you, his arm casually draped behind your waist, his eyes half-lidded in that way he gets when he’s content. But you can’t help feeling like this is too much. Too close. Too perfect. Too… romantic. You start fidgeting a bit, your mind beginning to spiral, the weight of everything pressing in on you.

Your hand brushes against his chest, but your breath hitches for a second, and then you start pulling away, barely catching yourself before he notices. You feel stupid, but you can’t shake the feeling that something’s off.

Jungkook, of course, notices anyway. His arm tightens around you, drawing you back in with that magnetic pull of his, but this time you don’t resist.

“Everything okay?” His voice is soft, but there’s that tone underneath—concern and attention.

You avoid his gaze, your fingers picking at the hem of his shirt, like that might somehow make things feel less intimate. “Yeah, just… I dunno. It just feels… like everything’s happening too fast, you know?”

He doesn’t let you pull away. Instead, he leans in a little closer, like he’s trying to read you, then grins that lazy grin of his. “You don’t have to worry about everything. Just be here. With me.”

You sigh, trying to hold onto the lingering unease, but it’s hard when he’s pulling you back so easily. You roll your eyes, trying to joke, “Okay, Mr. Perfect.”

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’m not perfect, you know.”

“Yeah, but you’re close enough.”

You feel yourself relax against him again, but the uncertainty still nags at the back of your mind. And, just like that, he gets up with a small grunt, his muscles flexing as he stretches.

“Stand?,” he says suddenly, his tone commanding but playful.

“What?” You blink at him.

He doesn’t let you finish, hoisting you into his arms with a grin. You’re too caught off guard to protest, but the laugh that bubbles up from your throat is a mix of surprise and amusement.

“Jungkook, are you seriously carrying me right now?”

He just shrugs, his grin widening. “Yeah. You’re too cute to just leave on the couch.”

“Please. You’re just showing off,” you mutter, but you can’t help the smile that sneaks its way onto your face. It’s ridiculous, and you’re not sure why he does it, but there’s something so undeniably charming about it.

“I could carry you anywhere.” He winks as if it’s just a fact. “And I will, if you want.”

You roll your eyes, though a soft laugh escapes your lips. He’s impossible.

He carries you into the bathroom and sets you gently on the counter. His hands linger on your hips as he lets you settle, and you don’t even realize you’re already relaxing again until he turns around to grab his toothbrush.

“Hang on, I’ll get something for your makeup, and the paint.” he says, rummaging through the drawer. His eyes light up as he pulls out a tissue and water. “This work?”

You stare at him, trying to keep a straight face. “Water and a tissue?” You can’t even hide the laughter that bubbles up. “Are you seriously offering me that?”

Jungkook looks sheepish, but there’s a spark of humor in his eyes. “What? I tried.”

You roll your eyes again, but it’s soft this time, affectionate. “Seriously, though, you don’t have any makeup wipes, or… I don’t know, a proper remover?”

He freezes, his face contorting slightly as he remembers something. “Wait.” He digs around in the cabinet and finally pulls out a bottle of micellar water. “I forgot I had this. Don’t judge me.”

“Are you serious?” You laugh. “You’ve got a skincare collection, but not makeup remover?”

He shrugs with a grin, still not admitting he’s been slacking on the basics. “I take care of myself. Just didn’t think to get wipes.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, your tone dripping with sarcasm, “Sure, because micellar water is so much better.”

He doesn’t say anything, just pulls the bottle open and starts using it on a cotton pad. “Fine, laugh it up. But It’ll still make sure your skin’s clean.”

You watch him, the familiarity of the moment bringing warmth to your chest. It’s domestic, sweet. In a way, you don’t even realize you’ve fallen into this routine with him. It’s easy, natural.

“I’m gonna steal your skincare someday,” you say, the words light but carrying a promise.

“Not unless you want to use my stuff forever.” His eyes are playful, though, as he pulls his shirt off and starts getting ready for bed. “I’ll keep you stocked.”

You stand in front of the mirror now, legs still wobbly, cotton pad in hand, gently wiping away the last traces of your makeup and the paint from earlier, The micellar water is cool against your skin, a grounding sensation, but there’s still an unshakable hum beneath your skin, a leftover buzz of adrenaline, of him.

Jungkook has discarded his shirt in the laundry basket, leaving him in just his boxers, and yet, somehow, he still looks so put together—so effortlessly beautiful. His bare chest is still slightly pink, flushed over from exertion, from being pressed against you for so long, and his damp hair falls over his forehead in soft waves. You can feel him staring before you even lift your eyes to the mirror, and when you do, his gaze is heavy, unreadable.

It’s not like he hasn’t looked at you before. He does it all the time, with that same quiet awe, like you’re something rare, something he can’t quite believe is real. But there’s something different about it this time. The way his brows twitch ever so slightly, the way his lips part like he’s about to speak, like he has something to say but doesn’t know if he should. There’s something behind his eyes, something dark and guilty, and for a second, you think he might actually say it. That thing, whatever it is, that he’s holding back.

“What?” you ask, voice quiet in the stillness.

“Nothing,” he says, smiling, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Then, before you can question it further, he reaches for your hand, lacing his fingers through yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His touch is warm, grounding, and he holds your hand like you’re something delicate, something precious, something he doesn’t want to let go of. He leads you out of the bathroom, walking you towards the bed in comfortable silence, and when you reach it, he tucks you in as if you’re a child, pulling the covers up over you with such gentle care that your heart clenches painfully in your chest.

And then, he’s slipping in next to you, immediately wrapping himself around you, pressing his body close, his arms caging you in. His nose nudges against your temple, his breath warm against your skin, and you don’t even think to resist. You just let it happen, let yourself melt into him, let him pull you in like you belong there.

There’s something about the way he’s holding you tonight. It’s different. He’s always touched you like he wants to, like he enjoys it, but this—this feels like something else entirely. It feels desperate, like he’s trying to commit the feeling of you to memory, like he’s afraid he’ll never get to do this again. His hold is just a little tighter, his touch lingering a little longer, his fingers brushing against your forehead in slow, absentminded strokes. And then there’s the way his lips hover over your skin, like he can’t help himself, like it’s in his nature to always be kissing you.

Your heart stutters.

Jungkook’s is racing.

The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest is steady against your palm, but underneath it, his heartbeat is erratic, fast, too fast for someone who should be relaxed.

Jungkook can feel everything. The warmth of your palm against his chest, the soft, absentminded way your fingertips trace over his skin like you’re trying to understand the way his heart beats. It’s fast—too fast—and he knows you can feel it.

And then there’s you. The way you’re looking at him, brows slightly furrowed, eyes searching his face with something gentle, something questioning. Concern. It makes his stomach twist, makes his throat tighten, because you don’t even realize what you’re doing to him.

He shouldn’t be selfish.

He shouldn’t be holding you like this, keeping you this close, memorizing the weight of you against him like it’s something he’ll have to remember later. But he is. And when your fingers press a little more firmly against his chest, when you whisper, “Why is your heart beating so fast?” he nearly tells you.

Nearly.

He bites down on it, swallows back the words that threaten to spill, the truth that sits heavy on his tongue. Because if he tells you now—if he tells you that time is slipping through his fingers, that he doesn’t know how many more times he’ll get to have you like this—you’ll look at him differently. You’ll ask questions he’s not ready to answer.

So instead, he exhales slowly, forcing his body to relax beneath your touch. And then, finally, he settles on something—something softer, something safe.

“Guess I’m just trying to hold onto this.”

The words are quiet, slipping into the space between you like a secret, like something unspoken that neither of you are ready to pick apart.

Your fingers still against his chest. There’s a pause, just long enough for him to know you’re thinking about it, that you’re trying to make sense of what he means. But then you blink up at him, and whatever question was about to form in your mind, it passes.

“Dramatic much?” you mumble, rolling your eyes.

Jungkook lets out a breathy chuckle, something light, something easy—something to make sure you don’t linger on it for too long. “You love it,” he murmurs, nudging his nose against your temple before pulling you closer.

And just like that, you let it go.

You don’t think about the way he looked at you in the bathroom, or the way his fingers linger a little too long against your skin, or the way his voice sounds just a little sad, a little wistful. You don’t think about any of it. You just let your eyes flutter shut, let yourself sink into the warmth of him, let yourself drift off with his heartbeat echoing against your palm.

Just like that, you press yourself against him, letting his warmth lull you to sleep, unaware of the way Jungkook keeps his eyes open just a little longer, staring at the ceiling—holding onto this, just like he said.

And neither of you say anything else.

Because in this moment, in this quiet, tangled-up mess of limbs and longing, the silence is enough.

[girlygguk]

DENIAL | JJK (Part 2)

➵ summary; your brother, taehyung, doesn't know how to properly handle yours & jungkook's.. agreement. you go over to his place to fix your relationship with him and eat a lot of chinese food. you end up getting a little more than that from his roommate during your visit.

this is part two to denial - part one and i highly recommend reading it first as u won’t understand most of the storyline!! xx

➵ pairing ; idol!jk x (f)actress!reader

➵ word count ; 7.1k

➵ rating ; 18+ minors dni

➵ content ; a bit of fluff, a bit of angst & a whole lotta smut. jk & reader are dumb sluts that will do anything besides admit their feelings for each other, tae is an amazing lil brother, jk & reader fight, jelly & whipped kook as always

➵ warnings ; teasing, swearing, grinding, kissing, fingering, spitting, dom!jk, oral sex (f rec.), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (wrap it UP! xx), aftercare, cream pie, sexy stuff starts quite late so pwp.

➵ a/n ; holy SHIT. i did not expect the love & reactions on part one.. thank you so so much!!!!!!!!! as a token of my gratitude, here is a part 2 <3

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"Cut! Well done, guys, that's a wrap!" Your director's voice booms through the studio as the crew applauds. You join in, clapping and returning the bows of everybody you see as you make your way off-set. A teary thirty minutes follow as you say your thankyous and goodbyes to your co-stars and staff, promising to stay in touch during the season break. 

You're locking your trailer door when suddenly, your phone buzzes in your pocket. Pulling it out of your jacket eagerly, you tap the screen, hoping to see your brother's name at the top of the notification. You can't help the small wave of disappointment that washes over you as you read the text from your co-star Hee-Jin, saying she's almost at your trailer.

It's been a little over two months since the night that you discovered Taehyung knew about you and Jungkook. 

71 DAYS EARLIER...

Your hands run over your face, Jungkook's facewash foamy on your fingers as you rub the cleanser harshly into your skin, almost as if the last 10 minutes of your life will rinse down the drain of the shower along with the overpriced skincare product. You didn't want to wash away the Jungkook part, because as you stood in his shower with jelly legs and a shy soreness between your thighs, you knew that no matter how fucked up it was that your younger brother potentially heard everything, you wouldn't take it back. 

So Jungkook was forced to sit patiently on his bed while you took over his bathroom. He wanted to go into the lounge and talk to his best mate, and he really wanted a slice of pizza because sex always makes him hungry, but he knew to let you speak to Taehyung first. 

Sure, slamming the door of Jungkook's bedroom shut after seeing your brother in the living room acting as normal as could be probably wasn't the best idea. And then ignoring Jungkook's soft tone as he asked if you were alright, shrugging him off you gently before walking into his ensuite and locking the door... Also not one of your best moments.

You and Jungkook were close friends before your relationship developed sexually. He knew what you wanted to eat before you even did. You knew the punchlines to all of his stupid jokes before he got to it, adding a twist to the end and making him double over in laughter, swearing you tell the joke better than he ever could. You were thankful for that bond right now because Jungkook knew from the moment you walked away that you just needed a minute to collect yourself. He watched silently when you disappeared into his bathroom to shower, not even making a cheeky offer to join you, which is very out of character for him.

He listened as the sound of running water came to a halt and looked up as you emerged from the bathroom a few moments later, the towel he had prepared for himself wrapped around your body. He bit back a smile as he remained on the edge of his bed, watching as you crept towards him, your eyes trailing down to the pile of clothes folded next to him. He had one of his hoodies that you always complimented whenever he wore and a pair of sweatpants perched next to him. His eyes followed your train of sight before flicking back up to your face, "for you," he confirmed your suspicions, his eyes tracing every inch of your doleful expression. 

Patting the pile of clothes, he pushed off his knees and stood up before walking to meet you in the middle of his room. You shake your head in awe, standing on the tips of your toes when he reaches you before connecting your lips with his. The kiss is soft and slow, much more wholesome than your usual messy kisses. Jungkook breaks away slightly, his hands running over your towel-covered back before resting on your butt and patting it gently.

"Go talk to him, baby," he says softly, lips lifting slightly to press against your forehead. You nod with a heavy sigh as he makes his way into the bathroom, his turn to shower now.

You can't leave your mind as you pull Jungkook's clothes onto your body. Your brother wasn't even fazed when he saw you in Jungkook's room. And you know for a fact you weren't exactly quiet, so he definitely heard something. God, the thought makes your feel nauseated as you grab one of the hair ties you leave on Jungkook's dresser to throw your hair up into a low bun, ignoring your wet hair hitting the back of your neck as you head for his door.

TODAY...

"So what did he say?" Hee-Jin's voice pulled you from your inner thoughts, causing you to let out a dazed hum in response before she continued. "Taehyung, how did he react?"

You look over at the girl on your left as you walk through the parking lot, two bouquets of flowers clutched in your hands as you both reach your car. "He already knew. I can't believe he already knew," your voice was strained as you shook your head in embarrassment. Hee-Jin's lips pulled into her mouth, and her eyes squinted slightly; you knew she was conflicted on whether to laugh or cry with you.

"You're such a bitch. It's not funny." You pouted before your body betrayed you, an airy laugh blowing through your lips and swatting at the girl with occupied arms as best as you could.

She giggled at your attempt, leaning against your car with you, her own flowers resting in her arms as well. "So he's okay with it?"

Your eyes lift from the ground, turning slightly to face her, "I can't tell," you say honestly, "he barely even reacted even when I tried to talk to him. I think he doesn't even want to think about it."

Hee-Jin nodded with a sorry look after seeing your sullen expression. "I mean, how would you react if you found out your sister was getting fucked by your best friend? I wouldn't want to think about it either."

Her brutally honest remark caught you off guard, pulling a low snort out of you before you fished your keys out of your jacket pocket to unlock your car. "Get off my car. I've had enough of you." Hee-Jin pokes her tongue at you before pushing off the side of your vehicle and heading to her own.

"Love you! You know I'm right!" She smiles as she waddles away, ignoring the eye roll you throw her as you shove the bouquets onto your passenger seat.

"Love you," is the last thing you grumble back before jumping into your car and slamming the door.

Your phone vibrates from your jacket pocket as you're halfway through buckling your seatbelt. Pulling it out, you bite your lip and send a quick response before shoving the key into your car's ignition. Then, ignoring the bubbles brewing in the pit of your stomach, you pull out of the parking lot and head for the destination your friend awaits.

Jungkook is hot. It's the boys' day off today, and he just finished up in the gym, his arms throbbing a little more than usual. He went a little harder during this session because he's planning on skipping a couple of upcoming days to chill. It has nothing to do with the fact that he knows you've wrapped up filming for the season and are heading home today. Not at all.

Twisting the cap onto the water bottle he just devoured in seconds, he throws it in the trash can before leaving the kitchen. He's almost at his bedroom before his eyes roll to the back of his head, retreating sluggishly to the garbage can before fishing the bottle back out. A low scoff leaves him as he tosses the bottle into the recycling bin instead, your sarcastic little comment plaguing his inner thoughts. You're not even here, and he's doing what you say. He's fucking whipped, and he knows it.

Reaching his bedroom successfully this time, he grabs a set of clean clothes from his drawers and throws them on his bed for when he's out of the shower. Then, heading towards his ensuite, he catches his phone on top of his dresser and stares at it for a second.

"Hi, Koo." You answer after two rings, and he sits on the foot of his bed when he hears your voice.

"Hi," he replies after a beat, fighting the side of his mouth as it tries to lift when he hears his nickname flow effortlessly from your mouth. "Watcha doin'?"

He hears you shuffle a little.

Closing the magazine you were browsing before you got the call, you smile at Jungkook's voice, your eyes scanning the room to ensure you didn't miss getting called up. "I'm actually at Modify."

His eyebrows furrow, "my tattoo place?"

"Yeah, but I'm not getting a tattoo—just a piercing with a friend. I asked for Riki, just like you said to. He's really nice."

"Yeah, he's the best. Did you chuck it on my account?" He nods, pulling at the thread of his towel absentmindedly.

"No," you chuckle, "but thank you. You're cute for offering." 

He feels his eyes roll back again, a habit he picked up from you, "you should. I have some account credit I have to use before it expires," he lies, and you bite back a smile knowing that he's full of shit.

"You're back earlier than I thought." Jungkook changes the subject, and you lean back into the couch's cushion before answering.

"Yeah, I just got back into Seoul like an hour ago. Decided to get it done here rather than Gwacheon so I can go home and rest afterwards."

You're thankful for Jungkook's random call to be honest. His voice calmed down your nerves exponentially; you forgot how jittery you were. "What are you getting pierced?" He asks, pulling you back to reality.

You feel your face getting hotter, and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, chewing on it for a moment too long because his hum into your phone speaker breaks the extended silence. "Um," your lips are pursed now, wondering if you should be telling him over the phone.

Jungkook's eyebrows raise, and he shuffles back a little more on the edge of his bed before continuing, "Are you getting a piercing down there?"

Your laugh flows through the phone, returning that feeling to his stomach. "No, perv." You sigh through a smile, "My nipples."

You hear him blow out a low breath before he chuckles, "Jesus. Happy birthday to me."

You're quick to roll your eyes and fail to wipe the smile off your face before giggling at his reaction. You see Riki pop his head out the door of his booth before he waves at you, indicating it's your turn to go up. Nodding back at him, you signal that you're just wrapping up your phone call, and he gives you a thumbs-up before ducking away.

"It's my turn. I have to go, Kook." You say into your phone, standing from the couch and fixing the cushions that fell as you stood.

Jungkook nods on the other end of the line before clearing his throat slightly and running a hand through his sweaty hair. "Hey, _____?"

"Yeah?" You respond as you walk towards Riki's room, watching as he finishes up with his previous customer.

"What friend are you with?"

A moment passes as Jungkook's question lingers in the air, stopping you in your tracks. You're standing just before the entrance of Riki's suite, and you glance down at your shoes for a second before sighing. "Kook—"

Jae's confused look causes you to stop talking as he climbs off the studio chair-bed, approaching you. "You okay?"

Jungkook heard Jae's voice through the phone. You know he did because when he abruptly ends the call, muttering something about "I have to go shower," you're pulling your phone back and seeing the disconnected symbol flashback at you from the device's screen.

The chime of your door accepting the access code fills your ears as you push down on the handle with your elbow, a little shove from your hip pushing the door open enough to slide inside. After locking the door, you drop the wilting flowers on the kitchen island and head to the sink to grab some water, hoping to try and cling to the little life they look to have left.

Your phone dings while you're filling up a random dish with water, as you don't actually own a vase. A cringed laugh leaves your lips when you pull the flowers out of the paper encasing and dump them into the sad container of water. "I should've just let you die. This is just sad." You mumble, walking to the chair where you chucked your jacket and phone.

Tae

Miss you. Heard you're home. Dinner tn?

You blink away the tears stinging in your waterline, sending back an of course and snorting when he spams you with a bunch of random excited emojis. You haven't talked much since the night at his a few months ago, and it's been eating away at you ever since. You have always been close with your siblings. Taehyung, especially since you both left home to pursue your careers in similar industries. You were quick to leave his apartment when it was clear he didn't exactly want to talk, and you didn't blame him.

You

just gonna shower then i'll pop over

The shower was quick; you only cut yourself slightly at the bottom of your knee when shaving your legs. That's what you call success. As you pull on your shirt, you're trying not to catch your new piercings on the fabric when your eyes flutter to the bulletin board of Polaroids of you and your friends. Your eyes automatically go to the stupid one smack bang in the middle. 

You're both sitting on the floor of your living room in the picture, a big cheesy grin covering Jungkook's face while you lean next to him with your tongue poking out. Jungkook turned to you as soon as you finished taking the photo, poking his tongue at you before letting his impulsive thoughts take over and licking a fat stripe over your cheek. You remember screeching and trying to push him away in a fit of giggles before conceding and allowing him to continue his attack.

Such a dork, you think as you're pulling your jeans over your legs. But, as much as you like to try and convince yourself you're not helplessly infatuated with him, you can't help but hope he's at dinner tonight.

Your brother is warm as he engulfs you in a bear hug when you enter the apartment. Smiling as you break away, you hit his shoulder playfully and laugh as he holds the injured area with a dramatic whine. "I should hit you harder than that for ignoring my texts."

"I'm sorry. I was just in a mood," Taehyung responds with a regretful smile.

"I know. I'm sorry too." You nod understandingly, pulling your jacket off and hanging it over one of the stools near the kitchen bar.

His low chuckle follows you as you both head to the living room. You roll your eyes at the spread of Chinese takeaway covering the large coffee table in front of the TV. "You guys have a huge kitchen and dining area, but I've never seen you actually eat in there."

"Food tastes better in front of the TV." He says simply, jumping onto the couch and patting the spot next to him.

You make your way to the couch and flop next to your brother, the smell of the spread in front of you making you hum in delight. You're both about to tuck in when he curses under his breath, climbing off the sofa with a promise to return with chopsticks. You lean forward and grab a dumpling with your fingers before dipping it in one of the sauces Taehyung laid out. It's almost in your mouth when the door to Jungkook's bedroom creaks slightly, causing you to put the dumpling back down and stare as he enters the lounge. He's dressed in a plain black shirt and sweats, and you drink in his figure shamelessly when he comes into view.

He spots you instantly as he walks further into the room, and you notice his eyes drop slightly to your chest, a short laugh blowing through your lips when you realise he's trying to see the imprint of the nipple piercings you said you were getting done today. "Hi, Koo—"

Your brother's voice cuts you off when he enters the living room again, "Kook! You hungry? There's heaps."

You take a pair of chopsticks when Tae hands you them, returning to your earlier action and grabbing the dumpling but successfully shoving it in your mouth this time. Your gaze lifts back to Jungkook as you chew, watching curiously as he looks at the food, looks at you, and then looks back to your brother. "Nah, bro, not hungry." He replies lowly before turning around and heading back into his room.

"Why did he come out then?" Taehyung snickers, leaning forward and slurping up a mouthful of noodles. You cough out a laugh, grabbing another dumpling and stuffing it into your mouth to avoid having to say anything. You knew why Jungkook was in a grump, and you also knew that he was definitely hungry. He's always hungry. You continue eating and internally decide that you will fix both of those problems before leaving the apartment tonight.

You and Taehyung talked for an hour and a half after you finished your dinner. It started on the topic of work—how your drama was going and how his shows were going. Then it got to the huge fucking Jungkook-shaped elephant in the room. You cried and apologised non-stop, and he kept telling you to cut it out, hugging you into his chest and telling you he wasn't mad. That life happens, and you can't help it." I'm supposed to be your big sister." You remember crying as he chuckled while patting your back like one would a newborn.

"How l-long did you know?" You hiccupped after breaking away from the embrace, reaching for your cup of water on the coffee table.

"Well, a few times, I caught him smiling at his phone and saw your name on the screen as I walked past. Or when he would shamelessly check you out whenever you'd come over. I thought he was just a horny douche," Tae laughed as you rolled your teary eyes, "but one night really caught me off guard. We were watching the first episode of your new drama when it dropped, and when the flashback kissing scene came on, he went dead quiet. Wouldn't talk for the rest of the episode and then went to his room when it finished."

"Jungkook," you say as you knock on his bedroom door, "I made you a plate. Can I come in?"

On the other side, Jungkook is lying on his bed, arm resting against the headboard behind his head, and tongue poking the inside of his cheek when he hears you call him by his actual name instead of a nickname like you usually do. He stays quiet and continues to scroll through a random social media app on his phone; he can't even tell you which one at this point. He's just trying not to give in. Call you in and shower your dumb face in kisses like he wants to. Pull your shirt up and see your newly pierced nipples because it's all he's been thinking about since you told him.

"I'm coming in, okay? Cover up!" You warn snarkily and smile in satisfaction when you hear him snort as you push the door open and step inside.

Jungkook's eyes flutter to you as you shut the door with your foot and shuffle over to his bed. His phone locks from inactivity, and he lets it slip from his hand as he watches you sit on the side of his bed, a plate of Chinese held in your hands as you poke his thigh with the chopsticks. "Eat."

He stares at your face for a second when you speak, his gaze lifting to your puffy eyes, making him sit up a little against the headboard. "Have you been crying?"

"Nothing gets past you, Sherlock." You mutter jokingly, leaning forward and placing the plate of food on his lap. "I know you're hungry. Hurry up and eat before I start feeding you."

He takes hold of the chopsticks when you wriggle them into his hand. Then, before you can pull your hand back, he grabs ahold of your palm, lifting it to his lips and placing a soft kiss on the top of your hand. "Thank you." He mumbles softly, grabbing some of the rice with the chopsticks before shoving it in his mouth.

"What are your plans tomorrow? I've got an interview on Thursday, but I don't have anything on tomorrow and was wondering if—"

"Why don't you go and do something with Jae?" He says after swallowing his mouthful, causing the words to cut off in your throat. Your eyebrows furrow as you stare at him in shock.

"Really?" You spit with a laugh, watching as he swirls the food around on his plate, his appetite suddenly vanishing.

"Yeah," he replies with a shrug, "we both agreed that we don't have the time to date. But you sure do go out on a lot of dates with him."

"This is about the piercings, right?" You can't help the tone of your voice rising, but you're slowly getting more pissed off by the second.

"The piercings, the concert, the ice cream. I'm sure there's a fuck tonne I don't know about too." He chuckles sorely, leaning over to his bedside table and setting down the barely touched plate of food.

"He's my co-worker. We are the leads in a show together; it's good for viewership for us to be seen together!" You stand from the bed, your voice getting even louder now, and you have to remind yourself to calm down so you don't bother your brother a few doors down.

"For viewership," he nods sarcastically, "getting your nipples pierced with your co-worker is good for viewership?" He can't help but laugh, his throat getting that familiar scratchy feeling as he imagines that fucker being in the room with you while you got them done.

"I've been planning them for a long time. You knew I wanted to get them done." 

"Why with him, ___?" Your nickname slipped venomously through his lips, "Why'd you go with him?" Jungkook's tone is low, almost defeated, as he refuses to make eye contact with you.

"He overheard me saying to Hee-Jin that I was going to do it today. He said he was planning on getting his nose pierced and offered to go with me," Jungkook is shaking his head now, his tongue rolling against the inside of his cheek as he tries not to think about it.

"Yeah, alright, _____. I'm tired, so—"

"Don't do that." You spit, cutting him off, and he raises his head to meet your eyes finally.

"Do what?"

"Don't shut me out. I hate it when you do that." You sigh, a hand lifting to run through your hair in frustration. Jungkook is quiet as he watches your chest heave while you calm down from yelling. He can't help his eyes falling to your tits, and you watch his eyebrows crease when he tries to find the imprint of the piercings.

"I didn't do it." You jab, and Jungkook's eyes lift to your face in pure confusion. At that moment, his stare drifts to your left ear and then your right, noticing the second addition to your lobes that he didn't see before. "Some lunatic called me before I got them done. He sounded pretty pissed, so I just got my ears done again." You snark, your eyes rolling back when you notice Jungkook's cheeky fucking smirk reappear on his lips.

You're close enough to the bed for him to gently lean forward and grab your arm. Before you have the chance to shrug him off, he's pulling you towards him, and you don't fight it as you fall onto the bed. Before you know it, he's ushering you onto his lap, his lip caught slightly between his teeth, and you have to stop yourself from leaning forward and kissing him. He's so pretty. 

"I like when you do things for me." He mumbles, his thumbs rubbing a soothing pattern on your hips as your shirt rises up slightly with your movement.

A soft hum escapes you as you allow more of your weight to press into him. The fabric of your jeans is rough against his crotch, and you can feel your lower body getting warmer by the second. "I know," you whisper, giving in and moving forward to press your mouth against his.

Jungkook's hands slide from your hips to your lower back when you lean forward, and he cheekily drops them to your ass, grabbing a greedy handful as you deepen the kiss. Your jaw slacks slightly when you feel him squeeze your ass, and he takes the opportunity to delve his tongue through your lips. His tongue brushes with your own, and he swallows the breathy moan that escapes as you allow him deeper into your mouth. Your hips move on their own accord, grinding harder into his lap, and he groans when you press down harshly, the denim of your jeans brushing him roughly through his pants.

"Shit." He moans as he breaks away from your lips. His hands don't leave your ass; if anything, he grips tighter before pressing you harder against him. You can feel him getting stiffer beneath you, making you whine at the feeling of him going from soft to hard between your legs.

"You're not hungry anymore?" You breathe as he flips you over so he's on top of you, his hands hastily working on the buttons of your jeans.

"No, I am." His voice is low as he makes his way down your body, pressing a soft kiss to the skin of your belly that reveals as your shirt rides up. Jungkook's lips move to your hipbone as he drags your zipper down, your jeans loose enough the slip off, and he drags them down, chucking them onto his floor without another thought.

He pats the side of your left thigh with his hand, and your knees come up instantly, understanding his wordless demand. "Really hungry," he mumbles, leaning down and attaching his mouth to your pussy through your panties. A whine leaves your lips instantly, hips involuntarily bucking into his face as he licks at your clit through the fabric. Your hands reach down to grab onto him, but you come up a little short. Jungkook notices and shuffles up a bit, letting you tangle your fingers through his hair, a satisfied hum leaving him when you tug at the strands harshly. He hooks a finger in the waistband of your underwear before sliding them down your legs, grunting at the sight of your glistening cunt. "So pretty."

"My pussy is pretty?" You choke through a moan as he lets a line of spit drip from his mouth onto you.

"Really pretty," he confirms before leaning down and burying his mouth into your cunt. Your eyes roll back as his lips wrap around your clit, his tongue peaking through to flick the nub as he sucks.

"F-Fuck," You groan as his right-hand grips your thigh, reassuringly squeezing as if coaxing you through it. Your eyes are squeezed shut; the wet, messy sounds of him devouring you are all you can hear. All you can feel.

Your eyes open as Jungkook pulls away, and you watch through hooded lids as he leans back a little before taking his middle and ring finger into his mouth. He coats them in as much saliva as possible before leaning down and placing a quick, sweet kiss on your clit. You let a giggle slip at the action before a high-pitched moan blows through your lips. He pushes both of his fingers fully into you, not stopping until he hits knuckle. "Holy shiiiiiiiit," you seethe, fingers untangling from his hair to rest at the back of his head.

Once his fingers are buried in you, he returns to your cunt, tongue lapping at your clit with vigour. He pulls the throbbing bud into his mouth, groaning when you push the back of his head further into you. He's nodding into your pussy, telling you to push harder without saying a word. "Kook." You whine, your fingers shakily entangling into his hair again and pulling him into you like he wants. His fingers haven't left you at all, and he curls them up, toying with that rigid spongey part. The tips of his fingers push at it teasingly, and it causes you to clench tightly around him, wanting to keep his hand trapped there forever.

He feels you start to shake, and his mouth moves with you, lips refusing to let go of your clit. "Fuck my tongue," he says as he pulls away slightly for air, "right now. Fuck my face."

"Oh my fucking god," you moan at his words, head falling back into his pillow as he goes back down again. His nose is buried in you now; the sloppy sounds of him slurping on your cunt spread goosebumps over your body. His fingers finally leave your hole before he leans a little lower, shoving his tongue into you. "Babyyyy, shit!" Your words come out as a mixture between a cry and a moan as he pistons his tongue into your hole, his fingers coated in your slick sliding up to circle your clit. 

"Fuck. My tongue." You can barely make out his demand as he doesn't relent his torture on your cunt, his words coming out muffled. Finally, you heave out a strangled moan before letting go and grinding your hips into his face. He moans in satisfaction, vibrating straight through your core, and you feel your legs begin to tremble.

"Come on, baby," Jungkook's words come out almost unintelligible again as his tongue continues to fuck into you, pulling a pornographic whine from your lips. "Good girl," he hums. His fingers are swirling against your swollen clit, maintaining a steady but ferocious pace, and it's blurring your vision. You can't stop yourself from bucking up into his face, earning a low groan when his tongue curves just right in your hole, and you push him into you so hard he can't breathe. Your right-hand slips out of his hair, slamming down onto his bed, your first unclenching to pull at his sheets with a trembling hand. His fingers lift off your clit for a second, and it's like you almost don't even notice it because his tongue takes its place, slurping your bud into his mouth. You hear shuffling and look up to see him pull his cock out of his sweats. You can't see it properly because he's kneeling at the edge of the bed, but you've witnessed the action enough to know when it's happening.

Once his cock is free, he stands from his knee, his hand wasting no time before reattaching to your clit. You can't take it anymore, your head turning to bury itself into his pillow to muffle your scream. The smell of his shampoo is embedded into the pillowcase, making your heart beat even faster, which you thought was simply impossible right now. Your toes curl as his thumb massages your clit, your hand lifting to grip the pillowcase tightly in your fist. "Gguk, I'm gonna—"

"I know, baby," he nods, his unoccupied hand reaching down to grasp his shaft in his hand before leaning forward and pushing into you. That's it. You're done for. 

"Oh! Oh, my fuck!" You scream as Jungkook shoves every inch of his cock into you, his balls flush against your entrance when he hits the base. He doesn't move. His thumb continues the torture on your clit, and he feels your walls tighten sorely around him as your back arches slightly off the bed. Your ears are ringing; eyes rolled to the back of your head as your chin points to the ceiling. 

"That's it, baby. Cream my fucking cockkkkk." He praises as you shake around him, your orgasm hitting you in a sudden wave. You think you're crying; you can't actually tell. Jungkook's eyebrows are furrowed as he stares in awe at your pussy convulse around him, watching your puffed clit pulse as you cum. "Shit," he whispers as he slowly slides his dick out of you for the first time since he entered you.

He doesn't let it fully slip out, instead pulling back until your lips are swallowing just the tip. He almost fucking growls when he sees his cock emerge sticky and wet, listening to you whine when he inches it gently back inside. "Are you trying to fucking kill me?" you groan, your hand coming up to rest against his chest. The side of his mouth pulls upwards as you let your hand slide under his shirt, nails tracing softly against his toned stomach. Your touch doesn't do anything to stop him, though, his gentle thrusts continuing as he watches your face for any sign of serious pain.

"God, you are," your words come out strangled, followed by a few shallow breaths as your pussy lets out a loud squelch every time he sinks back in.

"You can take it, right, baby?" Jungkook's tone is low and sinful. His gaze drops back to where you two are connected, his hips speeding up a little on each thrust. He watches as your eyes squeeze shut again, your hand that's under his shirt balling into a fist as you slam it against his chest. The shaky sensitivity in your pussy is strong, choked breaths slip from your mouth like a second language as you fight the overstimulation. "You always. Take it. So. Well." He's praising you between thrusts, and they're becoming more brutal with each one. Jungkook's head falls back a little as you squeeze around him slightly, listening to the sloppy noise of your cunt mixed with your moans. It's euphoric.

Suddenly, it's like a switch flicked in your brain because the pain turns to absolute pleasure, and your jaw slacks in pure ecstasy. Jungkook notices the transition and kneels on the bed, hooking his arms under the backs of your knees and pulling you down so you're flush against him. Your hand falls from his chest and next to you limply. You don't even have the power to move it as Jungkook slides his cock out of you before slamming it back in harder, then harder, then harder. He doesn't pull out until he's filled you to the brim, waiting to feel his balls hit your ass before pulling back and repeating the motion. You go to moan, though nothing comes out but an airy screech, your throat feeling raw and abused, just like your poor vagina right now.

"Slut," he mumbles sweetly, leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. You giggle against his mouth, using all the energy you have left to lift your hands and run them through his dishevelled hair before pulling him down to lay on you.

You feel Jungkook start to shake slightly, his usual giveaway that he's close. Breaking away from the kiss, your legs wrap around his butt and pull him into you as deeply as you can. "Mhm," you moan with a fucked out look on your face, hair sprawled out on his pillow, and he swears it's the prettiest he's ever seen you.

"There?" He grunts, the tip of his cock hitting that rigid spongey bit as he plows into you. 

"Mhm!" Your moan sounds distressed and crazed, but you can't even bring yourself to care. Your hands rack through Jungkook's hair, trailing down his back, and your nails dig into his skin as he slams his hips back, mercilessly fucking you into the bed. "There. There. Fucking thereeeeee!" You scream as his cock hits a part inside you that you didn't even know existed.

"Shit," he groans as your walls tighten around him, "I'm gonna fucking cum. Clench again, baby. Please. Please fuckk," He's begging, and your eyes roll to the back of your head at his whiny tone. His face falls to the crook of your neck as you give him what he needs, clenching your walls around him, and you hear him choke out a pained moan before he pushes into you with a final trembled thrust. He spills himself inside of you, painting the walls of your cunt, and you relish in the feeling. 

You're so close; the feeling of his cum inside of you only makes you even more aroused. "Keep going," your voice is hurried and hoarse, "Baby, please. Keep going. Keep goinggg. I'm close." You cry, your hand patting against his back in a pleading motion.

Jungkook can't do anything but growl into your neck as he pulls his hips back; the loud noise of his cum stuffed into you, squelching around his cock as he draws back, is fucking sinful. He ignores the burning feeling of sensitivity. He ignores the fact that his cock is softening by the second. Instead, he focuses on your moans of pleasure, pulling his face from your neck to watch your face contort in bliss. You can't take it anymore when his hand falls between you, thumb finding your clit without even fucking looking. "I'm. Gonna. Cum." You're shaking as he pounds into you, his thumb relentless on your clit. 

"Yeah?" He leans down, spitting harshly onto your cunt. "Fucking cum then," he taunts, his thumb sliding against your clit furiously. 

You can't speak. You can't open your eyes. You can't even breathe. You're surprised a strangled whimper finds its way from your throat, a blinding white flashing as your orgasm hits you. It washes over you like a tidal wave, and your back arches off the bed as you cum. Jungkook curses at the feeling of you pulsating around him and works you through your orgasm with a pained shudder.

As soon as you cower away from his touch, your pussy not able to handle the pressure on your clit any longer, he retracts his hand and heaves out a shaky breath. His hand pulls at the neckline of his shirt, slipping it off him and exposing his gorgeous abs. You can't even enjoy the sight properly, slumped against his pillow, harsh breaths blowing from your lips as you try to grasp back on reality. Jungkook lays the shirt under your butt, a low groan escaping him when he slips out of you, his cum drooling out of you and pooling onto his shirt. You look at him through squinted eyes as he stares at his seed dripping out of your hole, admiring it like a priceless piece of art. You watch as he bites his lip before tilting his head towards you with a cheeky smile.

Your eyes widen at his silent question, mouth opening in shock as you lift a shaky leg to swat at him with your foot. "If you try putting your dick anywhere near me right now, I'll fucking castrate you," you threaten as he chuckles at your reaction, letting his shirt capture the excess leakage before hobbling off to the bathroom to get a cloth.

You've managed to calm your breathing while listening to the bathroom tap squeak as Jungkook runs a washcloth under the water. He returns a few moments later, leaning down to press a quick kiss against your belly before he cleans you up. He's pulled his sweatpants back up now, but he's still shirtless, and you admire the way the muscles in his back tense as he goes to throw the dirty laundry in his hamper. He also grabs the plate of food that he abandoned on his bedside table before jogging it out to the kitchen. A comfortable silence washes over you both as he returns, and you just enjoy staring at his figure as he makes his way back to bed. Jungkook hands you back your panties before sitting on the side of the bed. He watches you tiredly sit up to wriggle them on before sliding back down and slamming your head onto the pillow.

"You're staying the night?" He asks in shock. You're always so quick to leave his place after sex; he does the same when it's at your place.

"We've had sleepovers before," you mumble into his pillow, snuggling deeper into his blanket.

He hums, slipping into the bed himself, and your warm arm moves under the blanket to drape over his chest. "Not after sex."

"Do you want me to go?" You reply quietly after a beat, your finger tracing light patterns on his upper chest.

Jungkook looks down at your hand, then your face. Your eyes meet his, and he just shakes his head, making you give him a soft smile in return. Your eyes flutter shut as he shuffles closer to you before he grabs your leg and drapes it over his waist. Jungkook follows suit, eyes closing as his breathing evens out. He's almost asleep, feeling your warm skin pressed against him, acting as the best sleeping pill money could buy. That is, until your voice breaks the silence.

"You would look so good with a lip ring."

His heavy eyelids peel open as he glances down at you. Your matted hair frames your face; eyes still shut. Your cheek is pressed against his chest; he could feel your lips move against him as you spoke.

"You're so random," Jungkook mumbles with a chuckle before closing his eyes again. He feels your lips pucker slightly, pressing a feathery, light kiss against his nipple as you let sleep take over you. The feeling is soothing, and all he can think about as the darkness engulfs him is getting a fucking lip ring.

[solar-verse]

Masterlist

08: chapter seven

Idoljk x oc

The phone kept buzzing with incoming messages, disrupting the silence of the room. Rian was still half-asleep, groaning in frustration as the persistent noise refused to stop. With her eyes closed, she reached toward the dresser where she usually placed her phone, blindly feeling around for it. But after several unsuccessful attempts, she sighed in defeat. Whoever was spamming her this early in the morning she was going to kill them.

Reluctantly, she cracked her eyes open, ready to grab her phone only to freeze.

This… this wasn’t her bed.

Her heart skipped a beat as realization dawned on her. And even more alarming? There was an arm draped over her waist.

What the hell?

Turning her head slightly, she found herself face-to-face with Noah, her latest entertainment of the month. She immediately lifted the covers, peeking underneath. Relief washed over her when she saw that her clothes were still intact. Thank God. At least drunk her had enough sense not to make any stupid decisions last night. Even in a drunken haze, it seemed she had remembered one important rule, she didn't do sloppy seconds.

Sometimes, you met someone who looked like they knew what they were doing. Then, when you actually put them to the test, you realized you had to teach them everything. That was exactly what happened with Noah. She had met him at a party with Jia, handsome, confident, and persistent enough to take his shot. So, out of sheer boredom, she let him. And maybe… just maybe, that was the only reason she had kept him around this long.

Carefully, she untangled herself from his hold, making sure not to wake him up. The last thing she wanted was morning-after small talk. After crawling out of bed, she searched the room for her phone, eventually spotting it under the bed. When she finally grabbed it, the screen was flooded with missed messages from Jia.

Jia [7:12 AM]: Where the hell are you?

Jia [7:15 AM]: Rian, seriously, wake up!

Jia [7:18 AM]: If you’re dead in a ditch somewhere, I’m going to be so pissed.

Jia [7:22 AM]: Wait… don’t tell me you’re with HIM.

Jia [7:22 AM]: You are, aren’t you? Oh my god.

Jia [7:24 AM]: You said you were DONE with him last week! LMAO, you’re so full of shit.

Jia [7:27 AM]: Okay, whatever. Just get your ass here. You’re LATE.

Jia [7:30 AM]: Rian.

Jia [7:31 AM]: RIAN.

Jia [7:32 AM]: Don’t make me come drag you out myself.

Rian groaned, rubbing her temple as she processed the messages.

Fuck.

She was late.

Her eyes widened as she read the latest one.

"Where the hell are you? The professor is here!"

Fuck.

She was really late.

Thank God Noah’s place was near RCA. Well, not near near, but close enough that an Uber would get her there faster than if she were coming from her own apartment.

Right. Uber. She needed to call one.

But first, she needed to fix herself.

Rian immediately got out of bed and headed to the bathroom. The moment she looked in the mirror, she groaned. Her hair was a tangled mess, mascara smudged beneath her eyes like she had just crawled out of a horror movie. Running a hand through her hair in a weak attempt to tame it, she sighed. There was no time for a shower. Instead, she washed her face, swished some mouthwash around to freshen up, and called it a day. At least she wouldn’t have morning breath.

Her reflection still screamed hungover mess.

The skirt? Passable. The shirt? Not so much. It might as well have had “partied all night” written across it in bold letters.

Just as she was about to figure out what to do, a voice interrupted her.

“Babe.”

Rian shut her eyes and winced.

Oh, God. Where the hell did that come from?

She swears they both knew this was casual. Why did this always happen?

Taking a deep breath, she walked back into the room, grabbing her things. “Good morning,” she said, keeping her tone light.

Noah stretched lazily, watching her. “It’s early. How about we grab some breakfast?”

“I really don’t have the time,” she replied, already opening the Uber app to book a ride.

“I can take you to uni,” he offered.

Tempting. Not gonna lie. But—

She found a ride and booked it. The driver would be here in ten minutes.

When she glanced up, Noah was looking at her expectantly.

Alright. Better now than later. No need to drag this out. Also, Jia would absolutely blow her head off if she was any later.

Rian sat beside him on the bed, exhaling. “Noah,” she started carefully, “I’ve really had a great time with you. You’re a great guy, and a million girls would kill to be with you—”

If you actually knew how to utilize what you’ve got.

“—but—”

“That’s why I think we should make this official,” he cut her off, grabbing her hands in his.

Rian blinked. What.

She looked down at their hands, frowning. Okay. He’s slow too.

There was no other way to do this except to rip the band-aid off. She pulled her hands away. “No, Noah,” she said firmly. “I told you from the beginning, I’m not looking for a relationship right now.”

“But why?” he asked, frustration laced in his voice. “We work really well together.” He reached for her hands again.

She leaned back slightly, shaking her head. “No, I can’t. I’m busy, and I’m focused on my studies. I don’t want to drag this out when I already know it won’t lead anywhere. It’ll only end up hurting both of us.”

Hurting him, more like.

Noah opened his mouth as if to protest, but when he saw the unwavering look in her eyes, he sighed. “Okay. I really had a great time with you too.”

Rian smiled, relieved. “Thanks. By the way, can I take one of your shirts?”

When Rian arrived, she carefully closed the studio door behind her, wincing as the hinges let out a faint creak. Professor Evans had his back turned, gesturing at a holographic design projection while explaining a technique to one of her classmates. Seizing the opportunity, she slipped into her seat beside Jia, who wordlessly handed over her bag, already packed with Rian’s sketchbook, tablet, and a half-finished iced coffee.

"I wouldn’t know what to do without you," Rian whispered, pulling out her stylus.

"Yeah, yeah, just remember this when you’re accepting your ‘Designer of the Year’ award," Jia muttered back, smirking.

Professor Evans turned, his sharp gaze lingering on Rian just a beat too long. "Since all of you are finally here,"* he said, stressing the last word, "your task is to design a headpiece incorporating filigree metalwork"

The studio erupted into the familiar rustle of sketchbooks flipping open and tablets lighting up. Rian exhaled, tapping her stylus against her palm as she stared at the blank screen.

Even now, it still felt surreal. Her? At the Royal College of Arts?

Everything had gone according to plan, mostly. First, two grueling years at Central Saint Martins , where "glamorous" meant surviving on three hours of sleep and critique sessions that left even the toughest students questioning their life choices. But it was there she’d met Jia, and somehow, within just three months, they had gone from casual classmates to inseparable best friends. They were so close that they decided to rent a place together, a decision Rian never once regretted.

Initially, their friendship was built on solidarity, two Koreans well, Jia was born and raised in the UK, but still, in a place where they were the only Asians in their program. But soon, it became something deeper. They had each other’s backs through everything.

Then came RCA.

The application process had been a special kind of torture. Only fifteen to twenty students accepted per year, and the portfolio reviews were brutal. The worst part wasn’t the sleepless nights or the endless revisions, it was the unspoken fear that one of them would get in, and the other wouldn’t. Would Jia resent her if Rian made it and she didn’t? Would Rian be able to celebrate if the roles were reversed?

But deep down Rian knew in both scenarios, each of them will be happy for the other.

The day the acceptance emails arrived, Jia had barged into the living room, laptop open, face streaked with tears.

"We—we both—"

Rian didn’t let her finish. she immediately hugged her tight . Jia, ever the dramatic, collapsed onto the floor, wailing, "I can’t believe we have to do this all over again!"

That day, There had been screaming. Tears. Laughter. More tears. Snot. So much snot. Rian swore she cried enough to water an entire field that day.

But they’d made it. Together.

"Okay, for the next session, I want that design finalized so you can start bringing it to life," Professor Evans announced as the class began packing up. "But before you leave, there’s something important we need to discuss."

The students, who had been packing up their things, paused to listen.

"As you know, this university collaborates with top jewelry brands. This year, one of them is offering a seven-month apprenticeship for a team of two students." He folded his arms, scanning the room. "Selected students will work directly under the brand, gaining hands-on experience in design, production, and client relations. To be considered, you and your partner must submit a portfolio featuring ten original designs, with one standout piece physically crafted to showcase your skills."

Rian’s stomach dropped.

"Judging will be at the end of the year, giving you five months to prepare. The winning team will train at the brand’s headquarters, and your performance will determine the results of the next year." He paused. "Selection criteria include creativity, technical execution, participation, and professionalism. Good luck."

The moment the professor dismissed them, Rian and Jia locked eyes.

We’re screwed.

Their class accepted only twenty students a year, meaning the competition was brutal. Cutthroat. Some would sell their souls for this opportunity. And they weren’t just up against anyone; they were competing against the best.

Rian exhaled sharply. No sleep for the next five months. She could already feel her under-eye bags darkening.

"So, partner," Jia muttered, rubbing her temples. "How do you feel about our impending doom?"

"Completely and utterly fucked," Rian sighed, taking a long sip of her now-lukewarm coffee.

"Same." Jia groaned. "No parties. No social life. Just caffeine and regret."

"Speaking of regrets…" Rian winced. "I finally ended things with Ken’s doppelgänger."

Jia smirked. "Took you long enough. Do I want details?"

"Only if you enjoy secondhand embarrassment. The two times we hooked up, I stared at the ceiling and imagined I was in a wild porno just to get through it."

Jia fake-gagged. "Wow. No wonder you dropped him this morning."

"Uh-huh. This morning. Please, if you ever see me making dumb decisions again, you have full permission to drag me by the hair."

Jia laughed before shifting gears. "Any guesses on which brand it is?"

Rian tapped her pen. "Bvlgari? They’ve partnered with the school before."

"If it’s them, I might actually cry." Jia slumped in her chair. "So, what’s the game plan? Panic first, then work?"

"Food first," Rian decided. "Then we drown in sketches and regret."

Jia groaned. "Not again."

[hritika13-tamboli]

Jeon Jungkook Fic Recs List 5....

Series :

Baggage || dad!Jungkook x adoptive mom!Reader | best friends to lovers | co-parenting | idiots in love | slow burn—really slow burn || @angellesword

Summary: Drowning in debt and blood, Jeon Jungkook knows he's better off alone, lest he brings people down with him.

But one drunken night changes everything.

In a blink of an eye, Jungkook found himself drowning not only in debt and blood, but also in dirty diapers and judgmental stares from you, a.k.a his long-lost love and the guardian of the son he didn't even know existed.

Love to hate || Playboy businessman!jungkook x businesswoman!reader | Enemies to Lovers | Fuck Buddies!AU || @kpopfanfictrash

Summary : Born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you've done your best to rid yourself of the taste since you were old enough to walk. Occasionally though, your mother manages to rope you into an obligatory function – or a blind date with playboy billionaire, Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook stands for everything you loathe about the world you left behind, but you can’t deny the spark of attraction between you. Intrigued by the promise of mutual satisfaction, you agree to one night in bed… and quickly realize you’re in far, far deeper than you ever intended.

Six stages of Break-Up || ceo!jungkook x reader | Established relationship ||

Summary: Even the strongest sailing ship doesn’t last long in the sea.

Between takes 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07 || porn star!jk x f fluffer!reader | pornstar au || @jeonstudios

Summary: a fluffer for a popular porn star, your focus is to keep him hard and performing on set. turns out he's not the only thing that's hard.

From home || richkid!jk x baker!reader | fakedating!au | strangers to lovers | Enemies to Lovers || @yuzukult

Summary: jungkook is the youngest of five boys, the last in line to truly inherit any his parents’ money. but what if his mom suddenly cuts him off due to his current poor behavior and he’s forced to learn how it feels like to be part of the working class? 

Sugar fairy A03 || bunny hybrid Jungkook x ruby leopard hybrid oc! | strangers to lovers au | unrequited love au || @foxymoxynoona

Summary: Bunny Hybrid Jungkook is at that age... he needs a mate, and it's making life miserable for everyone in the family. The obvious solution is to bring home a girl. The obvious problem is that while it's love at first site for Pippa when he walks into the adoption tent, Jungkook is far more into the sexy cat to her right. Will there ever be peace in the family again?

One-shot :

Mature || stupid!jungkook x reader | f2l || @jiminrings

Summary: the good thing about professing your feelings to jungkook is that it'd be over with, whether or not he likes you back — the bad thing is that he rejects you, even if you haven't confessed.

alternatively, crushing on jungkook who's in your friend group is, has, and will never be a good idea.

Careful what you wish for || idol!jungkook x reader | Established relationship || @kookiesbuckethat

Summary: After a tiring week of work, the last thing Jungkook wants to hear is you lecturing him about taking care of himself. But what if he could never hear your voice ever again?

Afterglow || boyfriend!jungkook x reader | Established relationship || @onlyswan

Summary: in which jungkook can’t sleep, and he can’t stop kissing you either.

Our not so secret Secret || Athlete!fuckboy!Jungkook x smart ass!female!Reader | College AU | E2L | Athlete AU || @thvhoe

Sumaary :When someone learns that Jungkook has been secretly keeping a puppy in his room despite not being allowed to, he turns to ask the only other person who knows about his secret for help. And suddenly you two—who had long been bitter enemies—get very close.

Year 22 || childhoodfriend!jk x f!reader || @rkived

Summary: ‘‘I knew you’d be standing in my front porch light, and I knew you’d come back to me.’‘ 

T & S || Jungkook x reader | classmates!au | strangers to lovers || @jjkfire

Summary: Toddlers have always hated Jungkook and Jungkook have always hated toddlers  

+  “Jungkook… what the hell happened here? And why’s there spaghetti on the ceiling?”

Bunny adventures || hybrid!Jungkook x human!reader | hybrid!au || @kooktrash

Summary: | you had absolutely no intentions of ever owning a hybrid until jungkook came along. a mistreated, misunderstood rabbit hybrid who’d only ever wanted was to be treated like an equal.

Fighting hearts || boxer!jungkook x rich!reader | boxing!au | strangers to lovers || @kooktrash

Summary: never living a life of luxury, Jungkook does what he has to do to make ends-meet. right now that means fighting in underground clubs, getting beat black and blue until he wins. he knows there’s a better life out there for him but he never let himself think about it. until you came along and suddenly a weight is being lifted off his shoulders letting you through his guarded walls. you’re everything he needed and you make him want to fight for more.

That night of graduation party || Jungkook x reader | strangers to lovers | right person wrong time?? | friends to lovers || @smartkookiee

Summary: After a stupid game of Truth or Drink you are convinced into telling everyone about the time you and Jungkook hooked up together the night of college graduation. A missed connection that you and Jungkook hadn't even talked about. Bringing up some unexpected feeling that you hadn't realized had been lingering between the two of you.

Jump then fall || Jungkook x reader |cruise AU | fake dating AU | best friends to lovers AU || (Three-shot) @writtenwhalien

Summary : bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?

Explorer || alien!jungkook x reader | alien au || @1kook

Summary: Jungkook does not want to impress the frankly tyrannical ways of his planet on you. He just wants to stay here and keep your couch warm for you, hold your hair back when you wash your face in the morning. 

A touch of silk || pairing: werewolf!jungkook x f. human!reader | werewolf au || @war-of-hormoan

Summary: have been working with wolves long enough to recognize trouble the second it walks into the bar but there was something about Jungkook that made you forget everything Namjoon told you about the dangers of lone wolves.

Please don't eat me || werewolf!Jungkook x girlfriend!Reader | werewolf!au | college!au | established relationship!au || @spicybutterfly

Summary: What do you do when your longtime boyfriend turns into a werewolf right in front of you? Take off running of course!

Strictly platonic || bestfriend!jungkook x reader || friends to lovers | college au | fake dating au || @jeonqkooks

Summary: Jungkook can be a little selfish; and sometimes, the lengths you would go to for his happiness mean relinquishing your own.

True love || tattoo artist!jungkook x reader | f2l || @lovieku

Summary: when you and jeon jeongguk's paths cross again, you question if having a crush on the school's emo and alternative boy was really just a phase, or if it was true love after all.

I Re Do || Ex husband Jungkook x ex-wife reader || @keen-li

synopsis: Young love is so sweet, but people never realize how foolish it can be (sometimes), especially for you and Jungkook. You and Jungkook were the typical high school sweethearts, and after school, you thought you were grown enough to get married. Your families disagreed, but you still went through with it. It was fine for the first year; you were still in the honeymoon phase. But soon, reality caught up, and you both had to go to university. You attended the same university, thinking it would make things easier. Many obstacles came your way, but you were still going strong, afraid of proving your family right. However, after two years of unhappiness, you both called it quits. Unfortunately, your relationship ended on a sour note, and the man you once loved turned into someone you never wanted to see again. So, what happens now, when you face him one more time after many years of being away from him.