#jungkook is yoongi's son | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alphabetboyluvr · 8 months ago

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habits of a clandestine nature | jjk

pairing: collegejk x female oc (angst, smut)

warnings: college!jk, rich!jk, he's a college nepo baby!!!, waitress!oc, flashbacks to summer, (mild) enemies to lovers, oc lives with tae (they're besties), jk is besties with jimin, mentions of parents infidelity, mentions of oc's virginity (lost prior to the story starting), a little angsty, jk is nawt a fuckboi, but he is stewpid, unprotected sex, bathroom escapades, multiple positions, oral (f), mentions of blowjobs, house parties, jackson wang!!!!!!!, yoongi has no lines but is also one of my fave characters lmao

wordcount: 16k

note from holly: this was written as a commission over on ko-fi!! it went through soooo many changes and edits - at one point it was over 24k lmao. i have so much lore and backstory for this couple, but I'll save it for a rainy day!! one of the main prompts was the 2004 classic a cinderella story, and there are little nods to it throughout the story, including the diner name!! a commenter on wattpad said the pairing reminded them of danny and sandy from grease and like... i see it lmao. anywaysss enjoy!! <33

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

It's a well-trained habit, your fleeting glance towards the door of Montgomery's Diner when the bell rings.

Though the clatter of cheap porcelain being stacked on a tray almost manages to drown out the chiming metal, it's never quite enough. Softening your hardened expression, you continue on with your work, careful to not let your contempt show too much.

You already know who it is—or at least, who it could be. Only saw the girl leading the pack, but know that where Claudia goes, the rest of The Untouchables will surely follow.

Gorgeous in a way that money can't buy, and careless in a way that money makes up for, she's never taken personal issue with you. Barely even registers your existence.

From your quick look, you know that it's not just the girls today. It's the guys, too.

All with parents on the college board, they're regarded as campus royalty. Are aptly known as The Untouchables, 'cause the rules that apply to you don't apply to them. They'll likely continue with their lives in a similar manner for years to come, and will pass these attributes off to their offspring, whom they'll name after countries or distant relatives who were once regarded to be regal.

Gathering up the last of the discarded napkins on the table, you take one final, fleeting look just to see if a familiar face is with them.

It's not that you actively want to see him.

You just haven't seen him in the best part of a fortnight, which is odd.

He's been in your section of the Diner near enough every single night of the past three months—but school is starting up again, and he's got appearances to keep.

God-forbid Jeon Jungkook—son of the Admissions Director and heir-apparent to an unholy amount of real estate tied to the university—ever associates with the lowly scholarship kids like you.

The only reason The Untouchables ever come to this Diner is because it's the last remaining place close to the university that hasn't been snapped up and integrated into the campus. You guess it must feel like freedom to them, in a way.

In fact, you know this is the case. Jungkook has told you himself.

Has told you a lot.

Told you far too much.

Such candid honesty from him, shared during the lonely heat of a sweltering summer, is what makes it so jarring when he looks away as soon as his dark eyes meet yours.

Tall, broad, handsome; he's everything the gossip magazines you read during your downtime swoon over, but also everything they warn against. Too pretty for his own good, the resident agony aunt would call him if she were ever to see him. Would assume his ego is far larger than his shoe size; superiority complex embedded into his skin like the ink of his tattoos.

And while you think that perhaps those assumptions could be true, you also know the reality of him; how gentle his hands can be. Helpful, too. Delicate. Ornate, almost, when they fold bills into five petal flowers. Strong, when they grip the back of your neck. Commanding, when they're wrapped around his leather steering wheel.

You shouldn't know the way his car smells. Shouldn't know how he presses the heel of his palm against the wheel when he's reversing, or just how easy it is to clamber into the backseats over the centre console.

But you do, and it rests on your tongue like a dirty little secret desperate to escape: I know you.

You're not sure if you know him better than The Untouchables, but you know him independent of them. Not many people do.

It's rare to find him without Jimin cracking a joke by his side, or Claudia making a slightly mean remark masked as innocent ignorance as she leads him astray.

But summer happened, and so did Jungkook. With his friends away at their holiday homes, and his father's infidelity ripping his family apart at the seams, he'd needed something to stitch himself back together. Let you thread yourself through his very being, and once you'd tied yourself in a pretty little bow around his heart, he'd cut you off.

Is that not what all craftsmen do, though? Discard what no longer serves a purpose?

Memories of him, in all the places you never should have let him in, ravage your thoughts.

The scent of his aftershave lingers on the childhood plushie he used to tease you for having on your bed, but would also automatically hug into his chest every single time he entered your room.

The things he did—and the things he didn't do—corrupt your dreams and leave you restless when you wake.

The smudged mascara under your eyes hides the bags from your lack of sleep, and your only respite is that the little puffs beneath his eyes are extra prominent today. He's tried, too.

For a minute, you feel vindicated.

It doesn't last.

For the past few months, if he's been sleeping badly, you've known about it. Kept him company in this very Diner, or in the basement of a party house he was dumb enough to take you to, forgetting he'd have to return there after summer finished, too.

The walls might not talk, but Jackson Wang certainly does. Jungkook knows it's only a matter of time until his dirty little secrets—no matter how pure they actually are—become the talk of the town.

He always slept well in your bedroom, though.

Funny, that.

He's dressed simply, today: white t-shirt, black jeans, chunky black boots on his feet. It's still warm out, even if the sun does begin to set a little earlier than it had been during the hotter months. He's got no need for a jacket, and you despise how undeniably gorgeous his arms are in the dewy humidity. Tattoos trailing up and down his skin, you'd be forgiven for thinking he was a man of complexities.

Turns out he's just like every other good-for-nothing fuck boy who wasn't worth your time.

The Untouchables sit towards the front of the Diner. Your section is at the back, and there's no way in hell you're deviating from your set section. Not today. Not when he's with them.

"I thought we were free," your colleague, Maria, grumbles as you bring your tray to the counter.

Like you, she's a scholarship kid. Is the one who got you the job at the Diner after you both moved into the shared house you live in off-campus. Three of you live there—you, Maria, and Taehyung—and you all share the same disdain for The Untouchables.

"It never ends," you tease in reply. Glance over your shoulder, back at the table.

They're laughing and joking about something you can't quite decipher. All of them, except Jungkook.

There's a sternness to him. One of which you'd forgotten about. With one hand on the table, the other in his lap, his thumb fidgets over his tense knuckles. Sunglasses rest on the crown of his head, pushed up into his hair to hold it back off his face. Staring at nothing much, he's chewing up his bottom lip until he feels the familiar burn of your eyes on him. Looks your way.

It's curious, how looking at you halts his body from its self-soothing actions. He no longer nibbles on his lip. His tightly balled first eases.

"What do you think, Kookie?" Claudia drawls, drawing his attention back to the group. "You coming tonight?"

"Hm?" He questions, eyes pulling away from you. He begins to rub his thumb over his knuckles again. "Sorry, was just looking at the menu board. What are we talking about?"

"Party at the Conservatory," Jimin says from across the table. Though he's the one sitting beside Claudia, everyone knows Jungkook is the one that she's really interested in. Has been since their first day of college. "First of the semester. It's one of their birthdays. Reckon it'll be a big one."

On campus, but close enough to the boundaries that it's never infringed upon by security or university officials, the Conservatory isn't what it seems. A boarding house for the creme-de-la-creme of the Botany and Conservation PhD students, it's surrounded by land. Has rows upon rows of greenhouses for their projects.

Of the few times you've been there, you've always thought it was like a maze. The perfect place to get lost. The perfect place to get found, too.

Unfortunately for the PhD students, the house custodian took on the role for one thing and one thing only: to throw the biggest ragers on campus. Knows fuck all about growing anything that isn't illegal. Only managed to get the role, 'cause like the rest of The Untouchables, his dad works high up in the college. He's a few years older than them. Belongs to a different generation of campus royalty, but is keen on making sure his legacy remains.

After all, there ain't no party like a Jackson Wang party.

Namjoon—one of the Botanists and the birthday boy himself—has started padlocking the greenhouses.

Another one of them—Yoongi—minored in mechanical engineering. Has a coin-operated lock on his bathroom door. Makes enough money from a single Jackson Wang party to sustain himself for an entire month.

Hoseok and Jin, the remaining two, are just as messy as Jackson. Have only started PhDs because they don't know what else to do and don't want their youth to abruptly end. Live for the parties; survive for the studying.

"Now, who's told you that?" Jungkook smiles, as if the prospect of showing up at the Conservatory doesn't make him feel a little bit sick. "Jackson?"

"Obviously."

"Well, of course he's gonna tell you it'll be big," Jungkook laughs. "Wants to rope as many of you fuckers in as he can."

"And it works every time," Jimin smirks back. "If everyone thinks it'll be a rager, everyone will want to go. He's a marketing genius, if you ask me."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. Is fond in how he interacts with his friends. Has grown up with most of them. Whether or not they're everyones cup of tea is debatable, but they're his people.

And yet he finds himself glancing back over to the counter. You're not there anymore. Are out back, he assumes. Knows the layout, now. Where the walk-in freezer is. The little nook that you sit in during your break. He doubts any of his friends have ever been in a commercial kitchen, let alone one at a place like this.

While yes, his friends have only ever been good to him, he knows that it isn't the case for everyone they interact with. Is well aware that his friends would be confused beyond belief if they ever found out he knows how to click through the Diner's cash register and find the discount section. Would be even more perplexed if they were to see his initials hidden in one of the codes.

But summer was lonely.

Or at least it was.

Lonely, until it wasn't. Isolating, until he sought solace in someone he can't even bring himself to speak to in front of his friends.

Casting his eyes back down to the table, well aware that he's got no reason to feel as cut up as he does, he fakes a laugh. Looks up again at his friends with a grin so sincere that they'd never guess the way it feels like his heart is in his throat. "Alright. You're on. What time?"

The conversation dissolves into plans—what to wear, what drink to take.

After a summer apart, Jungkook thought it would be nice to be with his friends again. Thought he'd be excited; that he'd welcome them all back with open arms. Ask them about their summers, and lament his time spent here.

When Jimin asks him why he didn't go to the Italian villa his parents normally insist they spend the summer at, Jungkook shrugs.

"Dad has some stuff to sort out, so it was better to stay here," he says, minimising the reality of what really happened. Even you don't know for certain. All you know is that his father did something incredibly immoral, to the point where Jungkook can't even stand to look at him.

Is why he spent all those nights in the diner.

Was confusing at first. He was always angry. Always frowning. Always ordering black coffees and nothing else, huddled up in the corner booth, away from the world.

But with summer comes monsoons, and with monsoons come terrible conditions for walking home.

He expected you to say no when he offered you a ride. You expected to say no, too—but then a please and thank you had escaped your lips.

A routine grew. Habits formed.

Curious little thing, habits are. 21 days. That's all the time they take to develop.

Jungkook spent 63 days of summer with you in varying capacities. Enough time to learn a habit three times over.

The one that haunts him most is how it felt to have your hand beneath his on his gear stick. Finds the absence of you when he drives unbearable. Knows he's got no one to blame but himself; not just for creating distance, but also for minimising it in the first place.

He's the one who offered you a lift. He's the one who messaged you on your days off to see if you fancied going for a drive. He's the one who didn't turn the AC on just to get you shaking your jacket off your shoulders.

And he's the one that drove you out to the coast one evening for no other reason than wanting to hear the waves. He's the one who opened up to you about his family. He's the one that made things more than what they were.

Had walked along the shore with you, too scared to hold your hand beneath the lunar light. Opted for playful banter instead, nudging you into the lapping waves.

But the waves got bigger, and Jungkook's unbridled desire to have you close did just the same. Like always, he took things too far. Drenched in sea water, you'd laughed with him for the entire ride home.

Invited him in. Said, "The salt will ruin your clothes. We should wash them."

"Hand wash only," he'd said, pinging his damp t-shirt against his chest. It stuck to him in such a way you learned all of his edges before you ever saw him naked—not like there was much time between these two instances. Ended up in your shower with him, clothes beneath your feet, the excuse of hand washing disregarded the second he had you naked.

You learned three things about Jungkook in that shower.

The first is that he giggles. Lips on yours, hands clutching your jaw, whenever the water was a little too intrusive, he'd separate with a laugh. Would kiss you again, a smile still on his face. Would pretend as if he wasn't giggling.

But he was, and it was lovely.

The second was that he's the type to lean his head forward, not tip it back. With his hands pressed to the shower tiles behind you as your fingers wrapped around his thick shaft, he let his head dip to his chest. Gave him ample opportunity to press kisses to the top of your head—or at least it did until you got to your knees and started taking his hard cock in your mouth.

"Shit," he had husked. Whined. Praised. "Fuck. You're so fuckin' good at that."

It was around then that you became aware he was a head pusher, too.

Almost as if he was saving the best until last, the third thing you learned was how he likes to cum; in your sheets, cock buried in your pussy, your hands clasped above your head. Missionary, 'cause he likes to kiss you through it. In your bed, 'cause he likes losing himself in everything you are. Prefers finishing inside you, but you refuse to fuck him without a condom so he never gets exactly what he wants. It's close enough, though.

Spent weeks—months—laying unfair claim to your body, and now he can't bring himself to look in your direction. It infuriates you.

But more than anything else, it embarrasses you.

Even your reflection laughs at you. Cackles 'told you so' every time you look in the mirror.

You always wondered why you never heard much about Jungkook's hook ups around campus. Everyone knows about Jimin and how his cock has been perpetually wet since the first day of freshers week, but there's always been a secrecy when it comes to Jungkook.

It's something you've teased him about; in your sheets, bodies clammy, his heart beating so fast in his chest you'd been forgiven for thinking he'd just run a marathon.

"When do I have to sign it?" You had giggled.

"Sign what?" He'd husked, voice all wispy and fucked out.

"The NDA," you'd replied as if it was obvious. "It's been, like, what? A month? Surely it's about time you made sure I kept my mouth shut like all your other girls do?"

On your front, your arms were folded over his chest, and he was gently rearranging the pretty little updo he'd made a mess of. Though he was looking at his hands as he replied, you kept your eyes on his. Studied his sincerity.

"Reason you don't hear about other girls is 'cause there aren't any."

A smile twitched at the corner of your lips, but you didn't let it shine for him.

"Sure."

There was a small jerk to his torso as a breathy smirk formed on his face.

"You think I can't be trusted?"

"I think it's foolish to trust any man."

His deep, dark eyes sank down to focus on yours. Offered you all the sincerity you'd be searching for, and more.

"That's all I am, huh?" He'd challenged you. "Just another one of your men?"

"One of the many," you'd teased just to rile him up a little.

"Ah," he'd played along. "So that's why I always have to wear a condom?"

With a saccharine smirk on your lips, you'd gotten back in position, legs straddled over his hips. Had kissed him. Whispered, "No. That's just because I know it annoys you."

"You annoy me all the time," he'd mumbled into your lips, hands gripping your waist to get you grinding against his still sensitive cock. Barely fifteen minutes since he'd last finished, there was no way he was ready to go again.

"Hm?" You'd hummed against his kisses, then began to work your way down his neck in a way that always got him a little moany. "If I'm so annoying, why are you getting hard again, baby?"

"You can be annoying and hot," he told you as he desperately tried to not let his insatiable need for you show.

"Is that how you like your girls?" You'd ribbed once more, just to piss him off a little. It was never serious. Never something you would actually fret over.

Perhaps you should have done, but then he told you with a little too much candour, "No. It's how I like my girl. Singular."

Loose lips sink ships, and Jungkook was one iceberg away from greeting the ocean floor. Closing his lips back down on yours, he was making sure you were just as insatiable for him as he was for you. He didn't cum again that evening, even if you did more times than you cared to count.

A greedy lover, is Jeon Jungkook. Edacious.

And so you understand, now, why the girls he gets entangled with stay silent; how the hoaxes he plays leave them utterly hysterical. They're subject to silence, because who would possibly believe all those sweet little lies he tells? How mad would they be considered if they tried to convince anyone he has a heart?

His brazen lack of humanity is proven when he comes to pay for the table. Any of them could have done it. Yet he elects to stand in front of your till and wait for you to serve him.

Have you not served him enough?

You refuse to utter a single word in his direction. Don't look at him, don't give him any satisfaction. He can read it for himself, he can pay, and he can fuck off.

"Keep the change," he mumbles tossing down the bills—but like fuck are you gonna keep anything he gives you.

He begins to walk away, a little shrunken in his stature.

"Excuse me, sir."

Stopping dead in his tracks, Jungkook is perplexed to hear you address him so coldly.

"Your change," you say, holding a closed hand out for him to hold his own hand beneath. He doesn't want to cause a scene. Obliges. Is surprised when notes, not coins, fall into his palm.

More specifically, notes folded into the shape of flowers. His handiwork, he's certain. Was something he used to do in the early hours of your late night diner shifts. If he said something a little mean, or bickered with you a little too hard, he'd fold his notes up like posies and give them to you as a remedy.

Never used those notes to buy you real flowers, mind you.

Back when things were still easy, you pulled him up on it. Told him that you'd be far easier to seduce with a little wooing. He'd told you that you were easy to seduce regardless.

You didn't speak to him for the rest of your shift.

Ended it with fourteen folded bills in the shape of a bouquet, and when the backseat windows of his car had a thick veil of condensation coating them that same evening, he'd drawn you flowers on them.

"No point in flowers," he'd told you. "They just wither up and die."

Which is funny, 'cause it kinda looks like Jungkook is doing that very same thing right in this moment. He goes to speak, but nothing comes out.

Disappointing, you think, then realise of course he is. Has done nothing but disappoint you.

You smile. Jungkook looks like he wants to cry. Good.

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

21 repetitions. That's how many times it takes to form a habit. You know this.

You also know that 90 days of this repetition will form a habit to last a lifetime.

As you hook up your apron, and free your hair of the ribbon that had been tightly wrapped around your ponytail, you know these are 'lifetime' habits. Apron, then ponytail. Always.

But when you say goodbye to Maria, and ask if she'll be at home this evening, you find yourself leaning into a recently formed habit. It's not anything particularly noteworthy. Not something anyone would notice.

Well, not anyone who matters. You don't think Jungkook counts as someone who matters, anymore.

But he'd noticed; how you'd started glancing across to his parking spot whenever you clocked out. Had teased you for it. Asked you if it was the highlight of your day, seeing him there, as if it wasn't the highlight of his.

You should have known the playful banter when he told you not to get used to it wasn't really banter at all.

Yet here you are, glancing across to his parking spot only to see it empty.

It's not even like it's his spot. Whenever he's with his friends, they walk. Live right on campus, so don't need to drive, and if they do, they'll park right by the doors.

In the height of summer, when the lot was empty and Jungkook wasn't driving for his sake but for yours, he liked to park in the far corner. Said dumb shit about not wanting any weirdos scratching it. Whined and moaned whenever someone performed the very human act of parking next to the only other car in an empty parking lot.

"So many spaces!" He'd blather on. Would speak with his hands. Get deliberately more animated, 'cause it always made you laugh. "And they choose here?!"

The memories make you smile, until the yellow headlights of another car flood into the parking lot. They reveal what's right in front of you; a crowd of cars and not a single one of them you care for.

It's not like you cared for Jungkook, either. Was just something to pass the time when the streets were quiet and his head was loud.

In turn, you gave him quiet, and he made your summer feel loud.

But the leaves are turning brown and the water in the roadside puddles is becoming stale. The seasons have changed and so has the nature of your interactions. It's fine. You don't care. Really. Couldn't think of anyone you'd want to hang around less. Would rather die than associate with The Untouchables.

You never needed a lift, not really. Especially not when it always took you an hour to get home 'cause Jungkook just wanted to keep on driving.

Grumbling to yourself just to try and divert your mind from thoughts of him, your heart almost skips a beat when your phone vibrates in your pocket. For a second, you wonder if it could be him.

Where you at? It could read. I'm here.

Or maybe, I miss you.

I can't sleep without you.

This is so stupid. Can I come over?

It won't say of those things and you damn well know it.

Your text thread is dormant. The last message is from you, two weeks prior.

You: you not coming in tonight?

You: you'll be pleased to know my fairy godmother turned a pumpkin into a carriage to make sure i got home safe x

You: ... at least let me know if ur alive?

Rolling your eyes at how mortifying your desperation feels, the scowl that settles into your expression is comical. It's like you're fighting with the wind that's threading itself through your hair.

Pulling your phone out, the scowl only intensifies.

Jackass Wang: party tonight

You: so????

One thing about Jackson is that he's not gonna leave anyone on read, especially when he's trying to drum up attendees for his parties.

Jackass Wang: so i haven't seen you around for a while, montgomery

"Fuckin' Montgomery," you mutter at the nickname.

It's the one that all of Jungkook's friends seem to refer to you as, as if you don't have a personality outside of your job.

Still, at least Jackson is a little bit inventive with it. Calls you Monts. Monty, Monstera Plant, Monte Carlo, and god knows what else. If it starts with 'Mon,' he's found a way to end it with a cheeky smirk and smug anticipatory look in your direction, as he awaits your reaction.

You: i like it better when i don't see you x

Jackass Wang: you know that isn't true. loverboy will be there. come with him. or don't. i don't care. you can bring your little friends with you.

You: they'd rather die :) x

Jackass Wang: y'know, you're replying an awful lot for a girl who's not interested ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

You: you just can't take no for an answer

Jackass Wang: yes i can - but you haven't said no yet. c'mon. loverboy has been moping around all week. i can't be arsed with his mardy ass energy all evening.

You: so don't invite him???? i don't see why it's my problem?????

The fact that you don't need clarification of who Jackson means is proof enough that perhaps Jackson's onto something.

Jackass Wang: conservatory any time after 9. be there or be square montgomery. or don't be. i'm sure loverboy can get his dick wet without you, but it's easier for everyone if he doesn't.

You: charming x

Jackass Wang: it's why the ladies love me.

You: all of them except this one, apparently. have a nice party. stay away from the drugs.

Jackass Wang: can't be tamed, monte carlo. nor can loverboy. come keep him company.

The block button towards the top of your message thread looks incredibly tempting. Just a single click and you'll never have to deal with Jackson Wang and his dumb parties ever again.

Part of you can't believe you've ever been associated with them, as it is.

Summer defied the conventions of the life you've built for yourself. You weren't the person you thought you were.

Kicking off your shoes when you arrive home, the door slams shut behind you. A gentle voice calls through to check if it's you.

"Maria's still working," you say as you walk into the kitchen, tossing your bag down on the floor and your phone on the counter.

Taehyung, your best friend since your first week at college, is cooking himself dinner, but offers you a spoon of the tomato sauce he's making. Humming as you taste it, you're amazed by how he manages to make even the simplest thing delicious.

"S'good. What is that? Cumin?"

Nodding, he smiles. "A little paprika, too. You want some?"

His hair is dishevelled, blonde and sunkissed from the sweltering summer skies. He always looks great with a tan; radiant and full of youth.

Shaking your head, you really don't have an appetite. "Think I'm gonna have an early night."

He's about to reply when your phone buzzes. Both of you glance down. Your skin feels red hot, and when Taehyung almost chokes on the spoonful of sauce he's just tried, he's all sorts of confused.

"Why the fuck is Jackson Wang messaging you?"

"Hmm?" You hum as if you have no idea what he's talking about. Realise from the look on his face that he doesn't buy it for a second. "Oh! That Jackson Wang. Think he sent a text to his entire contact list. Something about a party."

"No," Taehyung asserts. "Absolutely not. You cannot bullshit out of this one."

"It's not bullshit," you whine as you pretend to look in the fridge for something to drink. Settle on a beer left by one of Taehyung's friends at a party held last semester. It wasn't quite a Jackson Wang level party, but nothing ever is. "He's just trying to drum up numbers for his stupid party tonight."

Taehyung is many things, but stupid he is not. Though he's blonde (thanks to a bottle of bleach and a few too many jack and cokes), he bends all the stereotypes. His tuition is covered by a scholarship for academic excellence.

"Don't give me that bull."

"It's not bull!"

"So you're telling me, out of everyone at our college, the Jackson Wang is texting you to make up numbers for his party?"

"Yes!" you exclaim, partially a little offended at it being such an unfathomable idea. "And he said you can come too, so maybe you're the one he's really after!"

His expression is flat. You are paper thin.

He's known you long enough to know when you're giving him half-truths.

He also knows you spent the summer alone in this house, and that there's a new toothbrush in the bathroom next to yours.

"You're hooking up with him, aren't you?"

"No!"

Out of everyone to be accused of sleeping with, Jackson Wang is, like, the worst of the worst. He's handsome, sure, but he's also slept with pretty much every girl on campus. Is a teenage boy in a grown adult's body. You'd rather not fornicate with a guy who still finds 'your mum' jokes funny.

Taehyung gasps at your immediate denial. "You are!"

"I'm not!"

"All that talk about saving it for someone special, and you mean to tell me you went and lost it to Jackson fuckin' Wang?!"

Everything about this conversation is making you want to punch yourself in the face. The topic of sex, and just why you've never gotten around to it, has dominated many conversations around this dining table. If you have to discuss it again, you might move out.

"Oh my God," you whine, throwing your head back. "We are not having this conversation."

"Yes, we are."

"No, we're not, because I didn't lose my virginity to Jackson Wang!" You stress. The more you think about it, the more offended you are.

"To Jackson Wang," Taehyung echoes, as he begins to join invisible dots. "But you did lose it to someone."

"No," you insist, but Taehyung refuses to buy it. Knows you too damn well.

He always thought he'd know when you lost it. That it'd be a boy you'd been dating. Committed to. Someone good. Someone worthy. Not someone you keep in the shadows.

"There's something you're not telling me," he frowns. "What the fuck happened this summer?"

With a sigh so deep it's a miracle you're still breathing, you relent. Never signed one of those NDA's you're convinced Jungkook must hand out like candy, as if he's some sort of celebrity and not just some college reprobate.

"Jungkook," you feebly admit. Take a sip on your beer. Don't look at Taheyung, 'cause you're afraid to see his reaction. "Wasn't Jackson. Was Jungkook."

You tell Taehyung everything. How Jungkook never knew you were a virgin. How he still doesn't. How you blame yourself for your hurt, but him for not getting you any band aids to help deal with it; for not kissing you better when he was the one to cause you such hurt in the first place.

As you recite you memories, you play a game against yourself: take a sip every time you want to cry.

By the time you've told Taehyung the nitty-gritty truth, the bottle of wine that had been in the fridge is finished, as well as your beer.

"I can't believe this," Taehyung says for what feels like the billionth time.

There's a certain shame that comes with Taehyung's confusion.

Embarrassment, like the way Jungkook would cringe at himself whenever he stumbled on his words, or the way you'd covered your reddening cheeks with your hands when he teased you for looking at him in the way you did.

Remorse of time wasted before him, and time wasted with him.

Regret of the things you did and the things he didn't.

It's all very confusing. Exhausting. If you were to really think about it, you'd spend a week in bed with a box of tissues. Would ask Taehyung why he didn't warn you that a heart could feel this horrid.

But he did, and you damn well know it.

Shrugging, you reach for the bottle and split the final few glugs between your glasses.

"We were just bored," you play it off. "Had nothing better to do. No one better to do."

But Taehyung shakes his head. "You don't have to do that, yanno. Pretend like it didn't matter. It's okay that it did. Even if he is a prick, and even if he's no better than the rest of them. It's okay that it hurts."

You're silent when he says this.

Despite your teasing, you never really thought Jungkook was much of a player.

But his friends are back now, and you've been relegated to the sidelines. Doesn't matter if he spent weeks—months—playing in no field but yours. Greener pastures have presumably sprouted. Your turf is wrecked from his carelessness, and he's left you to heal yourself while he goes and wrecks another.

Whoever he was pretending to be in the summer isn't who he is now that his friends are back—but when they're laughing and joking in the basement of the Conservatory that evening, Jungkook knows which version of himself he prefers.

"You need to get laid," Jimin tells Jungkook with a laugh. "Never seen a man look so bloody miserable at a party."

Of all the things Jungkook needs, getting laid is not one of them. In fact, he thinks it would be a very sensible idea if he never got laid again. Sex is messy. People get all emotional over it.

Or more so, he gets all emotional over it.

Had never been the type to, before. Always thought it was something that just happened to other people. Not to him.

He pushes the thoughts aside. Feels a little sick. Shrugs off Jimin's remark.

"If I wanted to get laid, I would get laid."

"So why don't you? Will do us all a favour. Claudia's been—"

"I couldn't give a fuck," Jungkook interrupts Jimin. "I'm not interested."

He never has been. Wants nothing to do with this university, and the men that run it, and so would never date one of their daughters.

They're all corrupt. Every last one of them. All cheat on their wives. All throw their families under the bus for their own selfish exploits. His own father's affair has proven this to him.

Jungkook pities his friends. Just because their parents haven't fucked up yet, doesn't mean they won't.

"Oi, Loverboy," Jackson calls from across the room, breaking the tension only to replace it with a headache for Jungkook. "Where's your little girlfriend? I told her to come."

"Who?" Jimin chirps.

Jungkook grates his jaw. Is deadly serious when he says, "Leave it, Jackson."

"Trouble in paradise for our lovebirds, huh?"

"I said leave it."

"Who the fuck is he talking about?" Jimin continues to ask, incredibly curious about this turn of events. Leave town for a couple of months, he thinks, and everything changes.

"No one."

"That one from the diner," Jackson just continues fuckin' talking. Jungkook wants to scream. "The one with a stick up her ass—"

"Jackson, cut it out," Jungkook snaps. "She's no one. Just fuckin' leave it."

"You ashamed, huh, Loverboy?" Jackson berates him a little bit. He isn't trying to be a dick, but he thinks Jungkook is acting like a tool. Jackson is no saint, but at least he doesn't ever pretend to be something he's not. "Poor girl. Wear her like your favourite pair of shoes all summer and then throw her to the trash when your friends come back? I thought better of you. So did she, probably. Shame."

Of all the people Jungkook ever expected to receive lessons in morality from, Jackson Wang was not the one. He parades himself around the Conservatory like Hugh Hefner reincarnated, his class attributed to money and not behaviours.

"The fuck have you been doing this summer, Kook?" Jimin laughs, utterly dumbfounded by his reactions.

They've all had their fair share of less than conventional lovers. If Jungkook has been fucking around with a girl from the Diner, then so what? Who cares?

"Nothing," Jungkook snaps.

It's not that he's ashamed.

It's that you're separate.

When he's with you, all of this—the bullshit of college life and calamity of his family falling apart—dissolves into nothingness. He doesn't have to think. Finds himself at ease.

If you were to ever become a part of his life—his real one, not the one he got so used to living in with you over the summer—then it'd all change.

He doesn't want that.

He wants you to be a safe haven.

A refuge point can't be in the midst of a fire, though. He has to keep you away. At arms length.

But god damn, he wishes you would come and put out his fire. He's struggling. Finds existing without you so fucking hard. Doesn't know at which point he became so dependent, but knows his oxygen is running low.

He's suffocating. Isn't sure how much longer he can keep this up.

"Yeah, sure seems like nothing," Jimin smirks with a shake of his head as Jungkook storms off to get some much needed air. "Oi, Jackson, what was that all about?"

With a shrug, and yet another girl on his arm, Jackson grins. Puts on a pathetic little voice to mimic Jungkook's tantrum. "Fink baby boy has a wittle cwush."

"Girl from the diner?" Jimin implores, still smirking at Jackson's dumb humour. "Which one?"

"You really have to ask?"

For all of his mystery, Jungkook has never been a man of subtleties. His eyes give him away.

They always have done.

When he was looking at the menu board earlier that day? It was obvious.

Before college broke up for summer, and how Jungkook would always cast his eyes down to his hands whenever you, specifically, came to take their order? It was obvious.

How Jungkook would always make sure he was on the side of the booth that gave him ample opportunity to steal glances of you? It was so fucking obvious.

Sometimes he'd laugh at the slightly sarcastic remarks you gave Claudia whenever she would ask irritating questions about the menu.

When they were deciding where to eat, Jungkook would suggest the Montgomery's Diner, always.

So, no, Jimin doesn't really have to ask.

"Stupid prick," he sighs, sipping on his beer. Loves Jungkook to absolute death, but will never understand him. Figures that maybe you do. Worries that Jungkook is about to wreck it all. He calls after Jackson, "She here tonight?"

"Invited her," he calls back. "But she's got an attitude problem to rival his. Fuck knows if she's around. You'll feel her ice before you see her."

Which is funny, because the lingering summer heat sticks to your skin as you nervously meander up a driveway you know all too well.

The Conservatory is decidedly not a conservatory.

It's a complex. A maze of buildings, and greenhouses, and fuck knows what else. You've no interest in gardening, but if excelling at it meant living somewhere like this, maybe you'd consider taking it up as a hobby.

The buildings are mostly redbrick, with large windows, and even larger doors. It's the kind of place you'd imagine a Duke of some far away land prancing about in. Playing croquet, or secretly courting a lowly village girl that his parents will never approve of.

The irony isn't lost on you.

"Wait, how do I look?" Taehyung asks for what feels like the hundredth time. "Not too dressy?"

"You're wearing a waistcoat," you reply, face twisted in affectionate condemnation. He looks great, but he also does look far too dressy. It's his 'look', though, and one that'll get him attention, both good and bad.

If Kim Taehyung walked around with the arrogance his handsome face warranted him with, he'd be the heartthrob of the campus. You think even Claudia would want a slice of him—and given his distaste for the elite yet pining desire to be on their level, it'd be quite the complex pairing.

All of the other men here are in t-shirts, but Taehyung has never been like other men. It's part of the reason you like him so much.

One thing, however, you don't like about Taehyung is his domineering need to 'fix' things. It comes from a place of love, and he only ever does it because he cares, but it's not always in your best interest.

When he told you to go and get changed out of your work uniform, you thought he was planning on taking you to a bar. That you'd be drowning your sorrows over wine you can't afford.

You would never agree to go to the Conservatory. Not now.

Which is why he didn't tell you of his plan.

Instead, he ordered a cab and didn't give you the chance to protest. You were already halfway there by the time you realised.

"Why don't we just go home?" You whine, tugging on his arm as you stand by the gate that leads through the gardens—the same ones you used to traipse around in with Jungkook. "We don't need to be here."

"Uh-uh," he shakes his head, firmly standing his ground. "I've avoided this place for two years, and the second my back is turned it becomes your new home. The least you could do is invite me round for dinner."

"It's not my new home—"

"MONTGOMERY!"

The voice of Jackson Wang yelling across the front lawn makes you want to shrivel up and die. Sink down into the ground. You'd make great compost for the botanists.

"Y'know, you and Loverboy really need to stop lying so much," he says with an incredibly intoxicated grin as he lumbers towards you. You'll never admit it, but part of you is pleased to see him. "First you saying you weren't coming, then him telling everyone nothing happened between you. Both as bad as one another."

Nothing happened between you.

It doesn't surprise you, but it does sting. And it also confuses you. Why on earth would you be a topic of conversation? The people here know you as Montgomery. The girl from the diner. You're nothing but a background character to them.

"What did he say?" You ask, disregarding everything else, not even bothering to introduce Taehyung. He's finding all of this incredibly bewildering.

"Oh, Jimin was grilling him," Jackson waves his hands around, disregarding it. "Kept saying you were no one. Refused to admit that he'd practically tied his laces with yours for the whole summer. Don't you worry, though, Monte Carlo. I had your back. Set the record straight."

Jackson Wang having your back isn't something you ever expected to happen.

Jeon Jungkook's absolute denial of your clandestine affaire de cœur is, disappointingly, something you expected.

It doesn't mean that it comes without hurt. If anything, it's far more visceral, for you only have yourself to blame. These wounds are self-inflicted, even if they're carved with a knife Jungkook crafted out of silly affirmations he never should have made.

"Where is he?" You ask, cold in your tone.

Jackson shrugs. "Try the basement. S'where I last saw him."

As Jackson saunters off to find another poor partygoer to mildly offend, you're left with a bad taste in your mouth. You've been irritated since you saw Jungkook earlier that day.

How he can just show up at the diner and act like he doesn't even know you, let alone knows what it's like to wake up next to you, is beyond insulting.

"C'mon," Taehyung urges you along. "I need a drink, and you could use three."

Conversely, you think you need an entire bottle.

A bottle of what, you don't care. Just something strong. Anything other than the shitty, overpriced whisky Jungkook always insisted on drinking.

"Fine. But we're not going to the basement."

It's perplexing to walk the halls of the Conservatory without Jungkook; to pass by strangers who have no idea who you are, but who know and admire him as if he's some sort of Hollywood celebrity.

They don't know him like you do. Don't know what it feels like to have his hand around their throat, or his fingers gently intertwined with theirs. They've never heard him laugh like you have.

And yet when you're a few drinks deep, and on the verge of calling a cab to go home, you hear that laugh again and wonder how he can bear to be happy right now.

Glancing up, his face is unreadable. The lights are dim, and the shadows obscure the painful furrowing of his brows. He looks just the same as he did back in the diner earlier that day. Perplexed. In pain. Somehow perfectly fine, too.

The group he's in is small. Some of them you know, some of them you don't.

Claudia sits across from him on the lap of some other guy, yet she doesn't take her eyes off Jungkook. She laughs a little harder at his jokes. Directs questions to him. Flirts with other people in front of him to no avail.

Not even now, after summer when her skin is sunkissed and her radiance is rejuvenated, can she keep his attention.

In fact, none of them can once he spots you from across the room. The big lights are off, fairy lights strung up, and a sunset lamp pours a clementine hue over you.

Summer becomes you, he thinks—adores—from afar.

The year is a body, and you're eternally condemned to its heart. That's where he'll keep you. Where you belong.

Had it been spring—the brain of the year—when he'd been hauled up in that diner, he never would have let things get as far as they did.

Had it been winter—the cunt of the year, for lack of a better term—he would have let it get that far, and he wouldn't have felt bad about it, either.

But Autumn is drawing close. The gut. The time to trust his intuition, and he damn well knows it.

A hand wraps itself around your wrist, dragging you away from his car crash eyes. Jungkook slips into the dull shadows of the room, right where he belongs. Was foolish of you to ever think otherwise.

"Do you mind?" you snap, but let yourself be dragged away regardless. Part of you hopes it'll make Jungkook do something. You're not sure what. Just something.

The man who is leading you astray is familiar. Recognisable. Park Jimin.

Though he's not aggressive, he definitely isn't gentle as he leads you out to the gardens. Lets go of your wrist by an overgrown shrub just beyond the benches that are made for drunken DMC's. He isn't after one of them. Wants the facts.

"Cut the bullshit," he says.

"No hello?" You chirp. "Nice to see you? Or better yet, an introduction?"

"You know who I am," Jimin tells you, expression flat. You hate that the arrogant fucker is right. "But I know fuck all about you, and apparently you're the reason Jungkook is walking around like death warmed up. So cut the bull. What happened?"

Frankly it's none of Jimin's business. Even if he's done you wrong, Jungkook trusted you. You're not gonna throw that back in his face and air his dirty laundry—especially not considering that Jimin is Jungkook's friend. If Jungkook wanted him to know, he'd have told him.

"Nothing," you tell him. "Barely even know him."

Jimin sighs. Jackson was right. There's a reason why you and Jungkook got along so well. Are both insufferable.

Glancing behind you, Jimin raises his brows.

You turn to face his line of vision, and fail to hide your surprise when you see Jungkook by the back door. Like a deer in headlights, he's frozen in place, his darling bambi eyes so startled he almost looks scared.

"So if you barely know him," Jimin continues as you and Jungkook stare one another out. "Why the fuck is he looking at you like he's seen a ghost?"

It takes a second or so, but you manage to pull your gaze away. Turn back to face Jimin. Shrug. Play dumb.

"Mistaken identity."

"Oh, I get it," Jimin smirks, knowing you aren't gonna give him an easy way out. Needs to bamboozle answers out of you. "You both went to the same bullshitting classes over summer? Is that it?"

You're surprised to find yourself smiling. Surprised that you find humour in Jimin's words. Surprised that you aren't rolling your eyes.

He's always been the Untouchable that has annoyed you the most. Is too loud. Laughs at the most obnoxious things.

"Top of the class," you reply because it somehow feels okay to joke with him. Perhaps spending so much time with Jungkook has lowered you Park Jimin-related intolerance. Not cured it, by any means, but definitely made it easier to manage.

"Academic rivals," Jimin supposes, realising that maybe there's a little more to you than he's ever given you credit for. "That's pretty hot."

"He seemed to think so," you lament, knowing that you're revealing a far more truthful rendition of your time spent with Jungkook. Or at least, admitting that time was spent together.

With a sigh, you walk a little further into the garden. Cross your arms. Look back over your shoulder to the door, only to find Jungkook is gone. It shouldn't upset you like it does, but you find your lips pressing together in a small pout.

"Look," Jimin says, exhaling a breath so deep you're sure his lungs must be empty. He comes to stand beside you, looking across the vast expanse of the gardens. "I'm not asking for your life story. If you don't give a shit about Kook, then that's fine, I'll leave you alone. But he's my best friend, and I've never seen him like this."

Glancing at Jimin, there's a taut discomfort on your face. Guilt, almost—but you've not done anything wrong. It's on him. He's the one who chose for things to be this way.

"I give a shit," you quietly admit as you look back out towards the garden, then sigh out a pitiful laugh. "You know him. You know what he's like. Of course I give a shit."

Quite honestly you think it's impossible to not fall for Jungkook. He's everything you're hardwired to appreciate: hardworking, charming, incredibly funny. You lost count of how many nights dissolved into laughter with him. Had never known your cheeks to hurt so much.

He was gentle, too. Stroked his thumbs against your cheeks just as often as he made them ache.

It's your heart that's aching now, and he's not around to soothe your woes.

Back inside, Jungkook feels so viscerally unwell that he thinks he might be sick. Or maybe he's actually dying. One of the two.

This is everything he didn't want. You were supposed to be separate. Supposed to be a sanctuary away from this all.

You're in the thick of it, now. Jimin is grilling you, and Jungkook doesn't know what to do. It's too much. All of it. The party, the people, the fact that you look at him with ice in your eyes when he knows damn well they used to harbour the warmest of fires.

Beelining for the basement, he kind of hopes the ground will swallow him up. Stop him from making the bad decisions he seems to find so god damn irresistible.

As he yanks open the small fridge at the back of the basement, Jungkook doesn't care what he drinks. Just needs something to help soothe his fragile mine; to make him feel better, 'cause lord knows you won't.

Reaching for a beer, he doesn't ask around to see if it belongs to anyone. Finders keepers. He's an Untouchable. This place is basically his by birthright. No one is gonna argue against him.

But Kim Taehyung isn't just anyone.

"So, when you apologise for being a gargantuan pillock, are you planning on also trying to win her over? Or will you just clean your conscience and wipe yourself clean of her, too?"

Jungkook's jaw tenses as his teeth grit together. "Don't know what you're on about."

"Had a girl in tears at my dinner table earlier tonight," Taehyung exaggerates. Just wants Jungkook to feel as awful as he knows you do. "Your friends might not give a shit about your well-being, but I give a shit about mine."

And for some reason, this irks Jungkook. He gives a shit about you. Cares so much he's been torturing himself by staying away. Thinks it's better for you both.

If it truly was, neither of you would be feeling so gut-wrenchingly awful.

He knows you're angry. You've made that perfectly clear.

But he also knows you do cry when you're frustrated. Was a lesson learned when you were stressed over the diner roof leaking one night during the monsoons when no one else was in to help you fix it.

It was the first night he offered you a lift home. Had taken pity on you. Had also liaised with the college maintenance guy to check it out the next day, even if the diner wasn't technically part of campus.

Because Jungkook does give a shit about your well-being, and he refutes the claim that he doesn't.

"So what? You here to tell me to stay away?" Jungkook scoffs as he prizes off the cap of the bottle. Swigs down a sip. Then another, 'cause he's not wankered enough for this.

"I'm here to tell you that you're an asshole," Taehyung asserts. "She didn't deserve to be used by you for the summer and then tossed to the trash just because semesters starting up again."

The roll of Jungkook's eyes is so weighted that it almost feels as if they'll get lodged in the back of his skull. The last time they'd rolled that deep was in bed with you. Back then it was because his body was so divinely out of sync that his muscles couldn't keep up with his actions. This time, pleasure is the furthest thing away from how he's feeling.

"You want me nowhere near her, but the fact I'm staying away makes me an asshole?" Jungkook petulantly laughs. "Can't ever fuckin' win, can I?"

"This isn't about winning or losing," Taehyung argues back. "She trusted you."

Jungkook doesn't understand what that has to do with anything. He's not betrayed your trust. Has kept all your secrets. Tried his best to keep you secret, too.

"What was she to you, huh? Some project? A virginity to get under your belt? Something to pass the time—"

"I don't know who you think I am," Jungkook snaps, fed up being accused of something he's not. "But not once did I ever treat her badly, okay? I—" He cuts himself off. Doesn't know how to articulate himself. "We— Look, you just don't get it. You don't know me. I was nothing but fuckin' nice. Okay? And she was nice. And it was nice. And we..." He trails off. Realises what Taehyung said. "The fuck do you mean, 'virginity to get under your belt'?"

It's about now that Taehyung realises he's said too much.

But every cloud has a silver lining.

"Talk to her," Taehyung shrugs as he begins to walk away. "Not me."

He leaves a scowling Jungkook by the fridge. Heads to the stairs, and once he reaches the top, is yanked away by a small but mighty force.

"You," Jimin asserts. "With me. Now."

The sound of three knocks on the bathroom door serve as a signal: let me in.

A panicked text from Taehyung had practically begged you to go to the basement bathroom and wait for him there. Said there was drama that he needed to talk with you about.

And you believed him, 'cause you're a few too many drinks deep and honestly could do with the respite.

Perched up on the countertop by the sink, you reach over and unhook the latch, giving Taehyung the all clear to come on in. Your legs languidly swing and your shoulders are slumped, this party well and truly over for you.

The only reason you're still here is because you know Taehyung's secretly been revelling in his first Conservatory party. You fear he'll want to come every weekend, now.

"You better not have your cock out," a playful voice you know all too well jokes, as the door pushes open. Eyes closed as he enters, he shuts the door behind him. Asks, "Am I safe to open my eyes?"

You're gonna kill Taehyung.

In the most loving but brutal way, you will absolutelymurder him for setting you up like this.

"Safe," you grimace.

Jungkook doesn't open his eyes. In fact, he presses them even tighter together. Frowns. "Jimin isn't in here, is he?"

"We've been bamboozled," you sigh, and as much as he doesn't want to, Jungkook smiles at your choice of words. Tips his head down, and open his eyes. Is a little too scared to look your way, for fear of being greeted with wrath.

"Their days are numbered," Jungkook assures you, quickly glancing across to try and work out how you're feeling.

"My sentiments exactly."

Jungkook goes to speak, but you both notice a grating metallic noise by the door. Immediately, Jungkook presses his hand down on the door handle, but there's absolutely no give. It won't budge

"Jimin," he calls, voice strong and domineering through the wooden panels. Hastily painted white, they're chipped and tarnished; covered in numbers and Instagram handles, rumours and declarations of love. It's not your first time locked in this bathroom with Jungkook, but the last was of your own choice. Had been you turning the lock with a smile and glint in your eyes that had promised him trouble. "Open it up."

"No can do," Jimins smugly sings from beyond the door. "Sort your shit out."

Hopping off the counter, you nudge in front of Jungkook to pound against the door with an open fist. Though he steps back, it's still the closest you've been with him since he left your bedroom a couple weeks ago. Part of you laments the fact he moved away from you. Part of him does, too.

"Tae," you try calling instead, hand banging on the door, but you're met with the exact same response.

"Figure it out," he calls back, but also adds, "And if he's still an insufferable asshole in five minutes time, I'll come let you out."

Despite everything, you laugh at this. Not so much because of Taehyung's words, but because Jungkook's face screws up like an old newspaper.

"What is it with him and calling me an asshole?" Jungkook mutters under his breath with a shake of his head.

The bathroom is small—just a toilet and sink built into a cabinet. There's a mirror covering the back wall over it, and another cabinet above it that you assume is filled with empty bottles and misplaced lipglosses. There's barely even enough room to breathe, although there is enough room to make Jeon Jungkook come undone in the least dignified of ways. You should know.

You wish you didn't.

"He calls you one because you are one," you assure him.

"Excuse me?"

"What?" You scoff, hopping back up on the counter, your eyes on his 'cause you want to watch the way he gets nasty. Wanna remind yourself of how horrible he can be. Replace the memories of him in this bathroom, 'cause in all reality, they're actually really lovely. Nice, even. Warm. Everything you're trying to convince yourself he's not. "Gone deaf as well as turned into a massive prick?"

"Jesus Christ," he says, rolling his eyes, turning back to face the door. Shakes at the handle. "Give it a rest."

"Why?" You ask as if butter wouldn't melt on your tongue. "Would it make life easier for you if I just wasn't around?"

Jungkook knows what you're doing. Has bickered with you enough times to understand your tricks. This is how you start; put words in his mouth that he can't defend against.

And so he doesn't try.

"Yep," he declares, turning to face you. "Way easier. Can you tell your friend I'm an asshole, still? Get us out of this place?"

You recline in defiance. Perched up on the counter next to the basin, your back is against a mirror. Legs crossed, you're in the same white summer dress you wore to your first party at the Conservatory.

Nearly everyone had been away for the summer.

You had spent the evening tucked up together on an armchair meant for one, him in the seat, you perched on the armrest, feet in his lap.

"People will talk, y'know," you'd assured him, elbows on your knees, chin in your palms.

"So let them talk," he'd smirked. "What's there to say? We're just sitting?"

It was strange for him to be seen with you. Even Jackson has been confused, but let it slide 'cause another partygoer is another partygoer. He cared for numbers, not names.

"Dunno," you had teased. "Might start talking about the way you look at me."

"Yeah?" He'd husked as his long fingers wrapped around your wrist. Gently pulled you closer.

"Yeah," you'd whispered, the sound of the music keeping your conversation obscure. "How long has it been that you've been looking at me for? A minute, already? Only one more until you fall in love, according to science."

"You tryna make me fall in love with you, Montgomery?"

"No," you'd innocently chirped, then pulled back. "Why? Were you?"

He'd shrugged. Sipped on his beer. "Guess we'll never know."

Looking at him now, you find it hard to believe he's the same person as he was back then.

"Why would I do that?" You feign naivety. "You're not an asshole?"

He doesn't reply. Knows you're going somewhere with this. Leans his back against the wall opposite you and folds his arms as if to say, go on.

"Assholes fuck people over," you state. "You'd never do that. And you'd definitely never spend your summer in some poor girls sheets and then pretend like she doesn't exist in front of your friends—"

"There is it," he confirms. Knew it was coming. Didn't expect you to actually try and speak about things like adults. So fuckin' childish.

"Oh?" You chirp. "So you're well aware of the fact you're an asshole? Good. Glad we have that one sorted out."

"Yep," he confirms, mouth drawing to a thin line.

The fact he isn't engaging in the fight infuriates you. Just proves he doesn't care. That he fucked you over for sport.

"I'm an asshole," he says, voice full of snark. "You know it, I know it. There's no reason why you should want to be around me. No reason why you should waste your time."

"It's so funny," you gasp in fake surprise. "I was thinking the exact same thing! Isn't it so great that you came to this conclusion after you already wasted months of my life?"

He's silent, now. Cowardly.

"Y'know I always knew you were an obnoxious prick," you say, voice now soberly quiet. "But I didn't think you were this cruel, Kook."

"You know that's not—"

"What?" You interrupt, voice growing louder with each question. "Not true? You woke up in my bed one morning, and then never spoke to me again. Who does that? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I don't know!" He shouts, and it surprises you both.

Raking his hand through his hair as he turns away from you, Jungkook wishes he had an answer. Wishes he could explain himself in a way that made sense to you both. Instead, he harshly swallows down his anger. Turns to face you again. Looks like he might cry.

Feels like it, too.

"Why didn't you tell me, huh?" He quietly asks.

"Tell you wha—"

"That you were a virgin."

Your previous thoughts about murdering Taehyung return. Of all the things he could have divulged to Jungkook, and that's what he chose?!

Men, you internally scoff. All fuckin' idiots.

"Hardly relevant, is it?"

"Of course it is," he snaps, turning back to face you. "If I'd have known—"

"You'd have what? Ghosted me sooner? Made it into a fun little competition?"

"I didn't ghost you."

"Gaslighting, too, now are we?" You scoff. "Hold on, let me go and get my bingo card. Things Jungkook does that are absolutely fucking infuriating. Wanna cross it off the list. It's right next to how fast you drive your car, and how much I hate your stupid fucking alarm tone."

"Well good job you never have to hear it again, isn't it?"

"Why not? 'Cause you are ghosting me?"

"No, because this is fuckin' stupid," he says, yanking on the door handle, on the off chance it will finally budge. It doesn't. "You think I'm the devil reincarnated. You don't want me, so why bother with this? This is done. Us. Whatever the fuck it was. You never trusted me in the first place. Would have told me if you did. So just call your friend, tell him I'm an asshole. We're done."

"Oh, well you're two weeks too late for this conversation, don't you think?" you argue back with a cold laugh. "But has it ever occurred to you that my life doesn't revolve around you? That you aren't the reason I'm here? Jackson invited me."

"Ah, so that's what it is?" Jungkook sarcastically exclaims, your insatiable need to fight finally sinking into his skin. "You were just using me, huh? Getting those V-plates off, so you could be ready for him? Is that why you didn't tell me? Huh?"

The mere thought of hooking up with the college's very own Hugh Hefner makes you wanna gag—but if it'll piss off Jungkook, maybe you'll consider it.

"Why would you care if I let him fuck me?" You ask with such pointed anger Jungkook can't help but feel like you're driving knives into his chest. "Do that thing you like with my tongue? You think he'd like my pussy, huh? Maybe I'd let him fuck me raw."

You never let Jungkook go unprotected. Insisted on it each and every time, and he complied even if he was a little pouty about it after you'd been fucking for a while. The trust was there. You were on the pill. He knew he was clean and had told you as such, but it made no difference.

To even suggest you'd let Jackson fuck you raw is laughable.

With a smirk on his lips, Jungkook edges towards you.

Put his hands on your crossed knees. Waits for you to jerk him away—but you don't. Instead, you watch on with salacious confusion. Say nothing. Not even when he uncrosses them, nor when he spreads them apart.

With a hand either side of your head against the mirror, Jungkook stands between your legs.

Looks down at you.

Is so close you can smell his aftershave.

A month ago, in a position like this, you'd have kissed him.

"Hm?" You cock your head. Repeat your question. "You think he'd like my pussy? How long do you think he'd take to cum? Longer than you, I hope."

Jaw tense, Jungkook swallows down the way he wants to curse you out. Closes his eyes. Lets his head dip further, his forehead now resting against the top of your head.

The contact is minimal, but God, you've missed it. Trapped in position by him, you'd forgotten how lovely it was to lose yourself to Jungkook.

"You're not being fair," he whispers. Whines, even.

"Fair?" You laugh, but it's gentle. Matches his tone. "You can hardly take the high ground on fairness, Jungkook."

He nods. Takes a second, and then pathetically begs: "Don't fuck him. Please."

"Why shouldn't I?"

"You know why," he says. Stands straighter, now. Rakes a hand through his hair. Looks down on you with such pained desperation you almost feel bad. He tries to speak, but struggles with his words again. Takes him a few attempts to get anything out. "I didn't like you because I was fucking you. I fucked you because I liked you. You know that. You know it wasn't...Fuck. You know what it was."

The past tense he speaks in cuts you up inside.

Jungkook shrugs in defeat when he's met with silence. Purses his lips. Eyes on yours, they're glassy. Watery, almost.

Yours are just as bad, because what the fuck are you supposed to say to that? He's the one that cut you out. He did this.

"What did I do?" You ask, voice meagre and pathetic. Your vulnerability is mortifying, and yet you just can't help yourself as a tear streaks down your cheek. "What the fuck did I do that was so wrong, Kook?"

The heat of his hand scalds your skin as his thumb wipes away your tears. After his cold shoulder for the past two weeks, your body doesn't know how to respond. Should you be angry? Hurt? Comforted?

All you know is that you're more confused now than you ever were when you first started hooking up with him.

"Nothing," he quietly promises. Holds your cheeks in his hands. Rests his nose beside yours. Is far too close for a man who's been trying to stay away from you. Is beginning to realise that maybe his self-preservation was thinly veiled self-sabotage instead. "I thought I was doing the right thing, but it's been so fuckin' miserable, and then I didn't know how to fix things, and then it was all such a mess and—"

The words Jungkook is yet to speak are lost in the soft press of your lips against his.

Brows furrowed, Jungkook's grip on your face tightens. Keeps you close, 'cause he feels the pressure of your lips waning but doesn't want you to pull away.

And so you don't. Instead you apply more pressure. Harder. Deeper.

It's not like kissing Jungkook is a new experience. You've done it upwards of a thousand times, now. You know his lips and his tongue, and how it likes to flick against yours; his piercings, and the frequency of his moans that vibrate into your mouth.

Kissing Jungkook is just as easy as it is hard. Easy, in the way he takes not a single considered thought. Hard, in how it becomes your only tangible thought for minutes, hours, days afterwards.

An eternity and a millisecond is lost in the kiss, just like the summer that lasted an age and yet was gone with the wind.

When your lips finally part, there's silence. Forehead resting on yours, Jungkook shakes his head ever so gently. Doesn't know how to articulate his thoughts. How to say sorry, or how to fix his mess.

While his logic was flawed, and his execution careless, his intentions had been good. As much as he had a life to go back to, and friends that wouldn't get it, so did you.

He knows they hate him—isn't ignorant to the roll of Maria's eyes every time they walk into Montgomery's, and has experienced Taehyung's disdain first-hand this evening.

He'd spent his summer getting out of the house to avoid the fall-out of his father's infidelity. Knows how much his family is suffering all because of a man who just couldn't control himself. Was trying to be better. Trying not to wreck both of your lives.

As he stands in the dingy bathroom of a party house, the lingering burn of your lips on his still smouldering, he knows that he wrecked you both regardless.

And so it's up to him to put you back together again.

"I'm sorry," you say as you break the kiss, mortified at how stupid of an impulse it had been. You don't that. Not anymore. A month ago, sure, kissing Jungkook in a dingy bathroom at a party house would have been exciting. Now, it just feels embarrassing. "I shouldn't have—"

His lips are on yours again, stealing your words from you. He doesn't want to hear you apologise. Knows that you don't need to. Also knows that he does need to.

"Don't," he quickly says between kisses. "Please, don't say sorry."

"But I—"

"Shut up," he smiles against your lips, shaking his head ever so slightly. He kisses you again, and this time it's soft. Pretty. Poetic, almost in how it makes you feel. And then he speaks, and you're reminded of just how easy it is to adore him, even when you know you shouldn't. "You know how much I've missed this? God, I've missed you so much. Please don't say sorry. I'm sorry. It's on me. I made a mistake, alright? I fucked up."

He pulls back. Has your cheeks in his hands as he makes sure your eyes are on his. They're dark, now, in the dim light of the bathroom you're in, but they've never been warmer.

"I mean it. I'm so fucking sorry," he whispers. Brows furrowed, lips pouty, he's got the kind of face you're hardwired to trust. To adore. Or maybe, it's just him, in general, that you're inclined to feel this way about. "Okay?"

His large hard hands are still holding your cheeks, as yours wrap around his wrists. With a shake of your head, you shrug. Pout, too.

An apology is appreciated, but it's just words. It's his actions that have been upsetting you. Not his words (or lack thereof).

"We're gonna leave this bathroom and you're gonna pretend like I don't exist again," you tell him.

The frown on his face deepens. "That's not true. And that's not what I was trying to do in the first place, either. I just thought—"

"What? That it was a good idea to kiss me on my doorstep and promise you'd pick me up from work, only to never show? To ignore my texts? To—"

"No," he quietly admits, dropping his head between his shoulders. "I made the wrong calls—but I can make it up to you. I want to make it up to you." He rests his forehead against yours. Quietly begs, "Please."

Slowly, Jungkook nudges his nose up against yours. Waits for permission.

Beyond the door, loud music thuds through the room. It obscures the conversation you've been having, keeping you just as secret as you always have been.

It's not like you told any of your friends, either, and when it came to telling Taehyung, you weren't exactly forthcoming. Perhaps you would have been the one to pretend like he didn't exist, had he not done it first.

"I want you," he husks against your lips.

"You wanna fuck me," you correct him, lips tantalisingly brushing his with every word.

"True," he admits. "But I also wanna send you dumb memes again, and go for drives after work, and wake up in your bed. I wanna go for breakfast, and I still need to cook you my world-famous makguksu. I want to have not been a dick for the past two weeks, but I can't change that. I just wanna be what I once was to you again."

"And what was that?" You encourage.

There was never any label. Realistically, there's no right answer.

Or at least there isn't, until Jungkook just simply says, "Yours."

And what else can you do when confronted by such a pathetic, yearnful admittance from him, except to give into how you're feeling, too?

Frantic in the way your hands are on his body—his arms, his waist, around his throat—there's a neediness to you. One he's missed. One he reciprocates, as his large palms stroke up your spread thighs, then get your legs wrapped around his hips.

The movements of your bodies are so well nurtured by now that you know what comes next; how the bulge in his trousers will press against your covered pussy, and how you'll whine at the contact no matter how minimal.

"Fuck," you whine as his hands slip under the skirt of your dress. It's an old routine at this point. He knows exactly where to go, what to do. His fingers press against the wet fabric of your underwear, just gently enough to make you moan a little harder into his mouth.

"Oh?" He smirks when he realises just how needy you are, his fingers stroking against your slick panties. "Missed me, too?"

"You're an asshole," you tell him with a smile. As his fingers get firmer, you can't help but whine. "You know I have."

He pulls back to look down at your body. Pushes the fabric of your dress out of the way. Curses when he realises the underwear you're wearing. Is his favourite pair. Red and lacy, there's a suspender belt to match it. While you're not wearing it right now, he's got pictures of you in it that belong in a fuckin' museum.

"Did you wanna fuck me tonight, huh?" He mumbles into your lips.

"Not everything is about you," you say with a smile, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Except it is. They're your favourite pair too, simply for how insanely he reacted to seeing you in them. Sure you're not in the full set up, but it was enough to have you feeling ever so confident as you left the house with Taehyung.

As his lips press against yours, his finger hooks beneath your underwear. Tugs them to the side. Gets you exposed for him.

"No?" He husks, as his fingers begin to sink between your soaked folds. "So this isn't about me, huh?"

You shake your head. Lie. "Never been less turned on."

He plays into your little theatrics. Has always enjoyed them.

"So you don't want me to do this?" He asks as his middle finger sinks into your entrance.

"Can't even feel it," you pretend, as if his thick knuckles aren't stroking against you in just the right way.

"No?" He grits. Sinks a second finger inside you. Gets you whining again, nails gripping onto his arms. His fingers slowly pump into you, easing you into the way it feels for him to be inside you.

There's something electric about Jungkook. Sends shivers through your spine. Always knew exactly how to manipulate your pussy into doing whatever he wanted, and now is no different. As you clench around him, he's overcome with satisfaction.

"This is just my fingers," he reminds you. "I don't think you can handle my cock."

Scoffing, you're desperately trying to pretend you aren't melting for him. "Please, I can handle it just fine."

"Sure you can, baby," he teases with so much arrogance you kinda wanna fight him again—but it's also why you like him. He challenges you. Gets your brain in overdrive.

And when he crouches in front of the counter, eyes aligned with your exposed cunt, you think you might actually lose it entirely.

His hands are on your thighs, spreading you further, getting a good look at the mess between your legs. When he sighs, the shallow breath that escapes his lips feels like absolute sin against your wetness.

"Oh, you really haven't been fucked since me, have you?" He teases again. "Look at how fucking keen you are. Been missing my cock, huh?"

"My vibrator's been doing the job just fine," you assure him, but it has him pulling back to cock a brow in your direction. He knows many things about you that other people don't, but he was not aware you owned any sex toys. Finds that his cock only throbs even harder in his pants at this revelation.

"Maybe so," he husks, leaning closer just so he drags his flat tongue up your folds. Has to stop himself from moaning, 'cause the taste of you is somehow even better than his memories. "But it's not better than me."

With a point to prove, and a desperation to reclaim you as his own, Jungkook doesn't entertain chitchat any longer. He dives back in, tongue lapping against your lips as his fingers push back inside you. The way he curls them just right as his tongue flicks against your clit is enough to make anyone lose their head.

Hands tangling in his hair, you find your body responding to him in the way it always does; pathetically, needily, hungrily. There's no dignity to be found.

His tongue works against you like a well trained craft, until his lips latch around your swollen bud and begin to lightly suck on it. When he hums in satisfaction—which he does often—the suction only grows stronger.

Gets you whimpering, "Like that. Fuck. Like that."

The build is just as undignified as you are. Your grip on his hair gets tighter, and the shake of your legs grows stronger. Dragging his tongue up and down your folds, he settles back on your clit. Flicks his pointed tongue against you until he knows you can't take it any longer and begins to suck again. Curves his fingers just right. Strokes you so gently that orgasm pours out of you like liquid gold. Guilds him into the most gorgeous aureate glow.

He doesn't ease. Keeps his lips wrapped around your clit. Makes sure you're spent.

When he finally releases you, he's breathing just as heavily as you are. Gets to his feet, fingers still plugged in your tight pussy. Is pleased to find you're just as insatiable as he is, pulling him in for the messiest of kisses as soon as you can. There's no care given for the fact he's covered in your arousal. You just want that tongue of his in your mouth—and when it is, you find yourself moaning from the withdrawal of his fingers.

Your hands reach to the waistband of his jeans to unhook his button. Get his zipper down. Your hands down the front of his trousers, when his thick cock is restricted by his tight boxer briefs. By the tip of his cock, a small wet patch resides; his desperation for you obvious. Gently rubbing your thumb across the pre-cum, all you can think about is his slit, and how you wanna kitten lick across it.

But it's been two weeks of near-constant pining, and all Jungkook wants is to bury himself inside you.

"Let me fuck you," he begs. "Please, baby."

If the girl who had first seen Jungkook in a shared lecture hall two years ago would have known she'd end up in a shitty bathroom with him begging for her, she'd have laughed. Wouldn't have believed it for a second.

Fresh-faced and so out of your comfort zone, the first few days at university were full of potential. It was before you had wised up to your place in the pecking order; when Jungkook was just a boy in your orientation class.

Skin kissed by European sun, there had been a radiance to him that seemed to captivate just about everyone. You weren't the only girl who had been sneaking glances his way.

You'd thought about him a lot in those first few weeks. Came to learn of his family ties around the same time you befriended Taehyung. Stopped seeing him around campus so much, and rarely ever thought of him.

But on those rare occasions you crossed paths, your gaze would always linger.

As he frees himself of his boxers, trousers suspended midway down his thighs, he gently rubs the tip of his cock between your folds and husks, "Always thought you were so pretty, y'know?"

Looking up at you for just a second, he smirks. Looks back down. Continues to rub himself against you, prepping himself with your slickness.

"Freshers week," he continues. "You never came to any of the parties."

The tip of his cock kisses your entrance, but doesn't penetrate. You stay in limbo just shy of what you both want.

"Had a stupid fuckin' crush on you," he admits. Has never acknowledged it before, but has always known. Kept it hidden. Safe. Secret.

"No, you didn't," you smile. He didn't even give you a second glance. Was always you seeking him out in lecture halls.

"I did," he says with absolute certainty. "You wore that little black sundress on our first day. Had ruffles on the shoulders."

It hangs in your wardrobe, a little out of style but still sweet in the right setting. You know the exact one he's talking about, because he's right. You did wear it on that very first day.

His cock nudges a little deeper. Enough to make you gasp, but not moan. Not yet. Gripping his arms, brows furrowed, you nod. He sinks himself just a little bit further. The feeling is overwhelming; fire on ice.

"Would have fucked you in that lecture hall, if you'd have let me," he smirks.

"You didn't even know my name," you counter, but he cuts your questioning off as he edges a little deeper, still. His hand dips to gently rub languid circles on your clit. He's not pushing himself any further, not yet. Wants to ease into how this feels.

"I did," he admits. "Listened extra hard during the roll call."

"So this has all been some big elaborate scheme to get into my pants, huh?"

"Is it working?" he jokes, leaning over to yank the cabinet above the sink open. A few random bottles and packets clatter into the sink, but he doesn't care.

He's looking on the top shelf, rifling through old boxes, sending more miscellaneous objects to their untimely demise. Spotting what he's after, he's assertive as he knocks the cabinet shut. Passes you the box.

"S'all there is. They alright?"

"Sure," you say, pulling one of the foil packets from the box. You check the date stamped on the front—only to see it's a year out of date. Some protection would be better than none, regardless of the date, but fuck it. You're on the pill. "You haven't fucked anyone else? In the last couple weeks?"

"What?" His brows contort in confusion. "No."

His expression softens, but is still laced with confusion when you toss the box of condoms down into the sink.

"I don't care. I don't want them—"

You're cut off by the way Jungkook clasps your jaw, keeping your eyes locked on his. There's a seriousness to him now; the same demeanour he holds himself with when he was taking photographs. He's intentional. Assertive.

"Promise me," he says with stern certainty. "You want this?"

When he's got you like this—legs spread, body his to claim, your soul to take—it's impossible to do anything but comply. See, things with Jungkook are reciprocal. Your feelings, your tortured misunderstanding of how a relationship could ever work, and his seriousness, now, too.

"I promise," you swear.

As a chaste kiss is pressed to your lips, his hands stroke down your spread thighs, pushing you a little further open for him.

"Can't unfuck me," he softly reminds you. Is taking his time not for the anticipation, but because he's scared. "If you fuck me raw—"

"Then I fuck you raw," you simply repeat, knowing that it's up to you to ease his woes. If anyone should be scared, it's you—yet there's a safety that comes with being with Jungkook. Smirk, then say, "Trust me. I know I can't unfuck you. I've been trying to forget—"

"Ouch," he laughs, nudging his nose up against yours.

"—but you're just..." you tailed off, not wanting to compliment him too highly. He's still in the dog house. "Memorable."

With a sardonic smile that he knows only means trouble, you reach down to grip his incredibly pert ass cheeks. Squeezing, just because you can, you encourage him to push even deeper into you—and he's the one who whines, now.

"God, you're so fuckin' tight," he praises with such pained desperation it almost sounds like he'll cry. He won't. It's just that he can't quite believe that he's raw inside you right now, and that you feel just as good as he always imagined. Better, even.

"Yeah?" You question, as you pull his hips closer, gasping as he finally sinks his full length into you once more. His fingers were thick, but they've got nothing on his cock. Like he's taken all the air from your lungs, your voice is all light and airy. Makes Jungkook even more insane.

"Yeah," he mumbles as he nods into a kiss that is just as feverant as his need to pulse his hips. He doesn't dare do it yet. Is waiting for you. "Feels so fuckin' good."

"So just fuck me," you hungrily moan into his lips.

You're challenging him deliberately, and it works a fucking treat when he pulls back with a grin. He doesn't withdraw himself, but he does pulse his hips ever so slightly. Keeps you plugged. Is just nudging even deeper into you as he keeps a hold on your thighs, keeping them spread nice and wide.

"Say please," he grunts as his pulsing becomes a singular deep thrust.

Your argumentative streak wants to fight.

You'll berate yourself later for the way you whimper, "Please."

His thick cock withdraws just a little to push back into you. He groans. Curses. Builds momentum. Speed.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours as he pounds himself into you is impossible to ignore. Your moans build. Double. Treble. He's grunting too, and then his lips are on your neck. It's a mess, quite frankly.

In the sordid shadows of this bathroom, your bodies become acquainted with an intimacy not yet bridged before. You can pretend to ignore each other in the hallways of your shared lecture buildings, but you'll never be able to ignore the desperation you have for one another. Jungkook was right. You can't unfuck him. And now he's fucking you raw, it only make it even more potent.

Harshly pulling himself out of you, Jungkook almost fuckin' cums on the spot when he realises how soaked he is from your arousal. It's not like it's a new thing, but skin on skin, it's so much more intense. Gasping from the sudden loss of pressure, you're a little unsteady. Lurch forward as if your body could stop him from withdrawing.

Holding the base of his thick shaft, Jungkook spanks against your pussy with his cock. Rubs your slick wetness around with his tip. Hooks his elbows under your thighs. Pulls you closer. Instructs, "Arms around my neck."

Wrapping an arm around your back, the other one tucks under your ass as he lifts you.

He turns. Presses your back to the wall, and lines himself up.

"Legs around me," he tells you, and as soon as you do, his cock pushes up into you again. He keeps you pinned against the wall as he begins to fuck himself into you, his lips pressing wet kisses to the curve of your neck.

The sight in the mirror behind him is lethal; his broad back covered by his shirt, but it doesn't matter. You know what he looks like. Know his muscles, and the valley of his spine, like the back of your own damn hand.

You wanna see it though. Give it a tug. Send him the right message. Get him tearing his shirt off and dropping it to the floor for you. Victory is so damn sweet.

"Kook," you whine as he really begins to get deep. "You're gonna make me cum."

"All over my cock, huh?" He grunts. "Gonna cum on cock, are you?"

His taunting only makes you whimper even more. "I'm so close."

And because he just likes to get you all whiney and needy, Jungkook stops. Puts you down. Gets you facing the mirror as you protest his unfair stealing of an orgasm.

But then he's lining himself up again, getting ready to take you from behind. Spanks your ass ever so quickly.

Sinking into you again, Jungkook curses. "Tighter like this."

"Good?" You pathetically check, and Jungkook can't help but think it's sweet.

"Yeah, babe," he promises, and pretends as if it's completely usual for him to speak to you so tenderly. "Feels so fuckin' good. Missed you so much, gorgeous. You and this tight cunt."

"Romance," you joke through your needy whines. He smirks at this, and delivers a curt little spank to your ass.

"I can be romantic," he assures you, as if you aren't being soundtracked by the sound of your skin slapping together, his thick cock fucking itself into your soaked hole.

His eyes rise from the steady gaze he'd had on your ass to your eyes.

Slowing himself, Jungkook holds his cock inside you without thrusting. Says, "I made that photo you took of us in your room my fuckin' phone wallpaper. I listen to that asmr guy you like before bed, every single fuckin' night. I keep one of your ribbons tied around my gearstick. That romantic enough for you?"

There's an incredibly bashful smile on your pretty face, which contradicts the way in which your pussy is tightening around him in the most lewd of ways. You're giggling when you say, "Shut up and fuck me."

But then he's giggling too, just how you like him to be. Says, "I missed your body, but I missed you more. Stupid."

"You're stupid."

"You're stupider."

"Kook," you laugh, as he's completely forgotten the task at hand. The way that he looks at you, you'd be forgiven for thinking he has. Truthfully, the connection he has with you is so much more than what sex has ever been for him before.

His hips lightly pulse, as he says, "Sorry. Where were we?"

"Think you were gonna make me cum."

"Ah, yeah. That. My bad."

His gentle thrusts begin to build pace once more. The grin on his face drops a little as he begins to concentrate on you. Watching him in the mirror, you're perplexed to be reminded of just how ethereal Jungkook looks when he fucks.

The deep ridge between his brows intensifies, as his mouth hands slack. His cheeks hollow a little, and his eyes remain entirely focused. Dark. Deep. Brooding.

As his hand dips around to gently stroke against your clit, Jungkook is just as taken away by the way you look. He isn't sure what it is that gets his heart so heavy in his chest, but he knows that he wants you to cum. Doesn't give a fuck about himself.

The walls of your cunt begin to tighten around his length as your moans deepen. You whine his name and he encourages a response, but neither of you can really talk. A numbness is washing over you, your balance unsteady.

"I'm gonna..." you begin, but find it impossible to finish.

"I know, baby," he nods all out of breath and desperately fucked out. "Give me what I want. Cum for me."

You trust and keep your eyes on him, but the nudging on his cock against your g-spot and the slow rubbing of your clit is just enough to tip you over.

"Kook," you whimper as your walls begin to tighten around him, but it's fruitless. There's a shake to your legs, and he's the only thing keeping you supported.

"Oh, fuck," he curses from the strength of your pussy around him. He's shaking just as much as you are. "Cream on this cock, baby. Oh, fuck. Yeah.Just like that. You're gonna make me cum, too. Gonna make me cum so fuckin' hard. All in your pussy. You want that, huh?"

It's as you're desperately whining, cumming all around his thick shaft that Jungkook feels his body lose control. There's a tightness to his balls, and a shudder to his sternum, that he hasn't felt since the last time he was in your bedroom. Last time he was in you, more specifically.

"Kook," you whimper his name, and that's when Jungkook really can't hold back.

"Yeah, babe," he rasps, as his hard thrusts become pathetic stutters. "I'm cumming."

The announcement isn't needed, for you swear you can almost feel it as his thick cum begins to fill you. The lack of a condom makes it all the more primal, the way his body shudders indicative of just how much cum he's filling you up with.

His body collapses on yours a little, his clammy torso pressed to your back. The dress you're wearing is barely on properly, and the feeling of his skin against yours is catastrophic. As intimate as sex is, it's this right now, the beat of his heart thrumming against your spine that is the real disaster. How you can ever look him in the eye again is beyond you.

But then his lips are pressing chaste kisses to the curve of your neck, and his hands are squeezing at your hips. He doesn't pull out. Keeps himself warm inside you. Says, "How the fuck am I ever supposed to give you up, huh?"

That's the thing.

He isn't supposed to, and you damn well know it.

Reaching back for some tissue to help you out, Jungkook slowly withdraws. Holds his hand beneath your pussy, then replaces it with tissue. Turns you around and lets you take over.

"Here's a radical idea," you offer, not looking at him as you quickly make sure you're decent. Stay standing with your legs crossed, just in case. "Don't."

Pulling his shirt back over his head, Jungkook presses his back to the wall. There's a distance between you, yes, but you don't really feel it, 'cause it's purely physical.

And it's not like it lasts for very long either, 'cause Jungkook decides he needs to kiss you all over again.

"Alright," he whispers against your lips. "Say we don't. Say I wanna be yours. What the fuck do we do now?"

You shrug. The answers aren't yours to decide. It's up to you both.

"Well, firstly I'm gonna text Tae," you hum. "Tell him you're still an asshole and that I need to be let out immediately."

It's been half an hour.

He came to check on things about ten minutes ago.

The music might be loud, but not loud enough to drown out the way you guys fuck.

Summer had been quiet. In his car, in your empty house, you've never had to keep it down before. Didn't even realise quite how loud you were being.

Which is why Jimin is the one who unlocks the outside bolt with a smirk a few minutes later, Taehyung watching on with a little disgusted grimace a metre or so back.

"Gross," he whisper shouts at you, but then he's smiling, too. Notices how Jungkook touches you—the hand he has on the small of your back, and the way he clasps your hand as you begin to walk ahead of him—and finds it impossible to be mad.

"C'mon," Jimin calls behind himself, leading you up and out of the basement. "We're going to the diner."

"We?" You question, incredibly confused.

"We." He simply says. Doesn't leave it up for debate. Gathers up the rest of the Untouchables (though Claudia is noticeably absent), and tells them the same thing he told you. Drags Taehyung along as well.

Jungkook was scared of integrating you into his life, but there's no other way to do it. Has to rip the band aid off.

As you walk into Montgomery's, hand in hand with the boy who had spent his summer wasting away with you in here, both of you realise that maybe it isn't such a huge deal.

Or at least, you do until Maria clocks you. Eyes darting from you, to Jungkook, and then to your gently clasped hands, she's in a state of absolute shock. Almost drops her tray.

"Sorry, what the fuck?!"

#byholly #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bangtan fic #jungkook fluff #college!jungkook #non idol au #bts fanfic #bangtan ff #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader #college au

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captain-joongz · 10 months ago

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fanfiction recommendations/my favourite reads in 2023

♤ in pursuit of wedded bliss by @fantasyescapes17

regency au, each members has his own story, but they're interconnected

choi seungcheol

◇ push it down (sooner or later it all comes out) by @dontflailmenow

camboy!seungcheol, ex's best friend!seungcheol, enemies to lovers

♧ down bad (so so bad) by @lovelyhan

idol!seungcheol x pet sitter!reader

☆ always only you by @honeyhotteoks

brother's best friend!seungcheol, friends to lovers

♤ caught in a trap by @cheolism

brother's best friend to lovers au

kim mingyu

☆ a sheep in wolf's clothing by @rubyreduji

virgin!mingyu x experienced reader

♤ creep by @smileysuh

serial killer!ghost!mingyu, touch starved!mingyu, halloween fic

ot8

◇ skz drabble by @leviackermanscleaningbuddy

a/b/o, cnc, primal play

♧ sharing = caring by @cbini

bf!chan sharing you

☆ camcorder by @tasteracha

bf!minho x reader x chan, a little pervy chan

♤ five for five by @bh-archive

chan x hyunjin x hongjoong x san x juyeon x reader

◇ some things are better left unknown by @roseykat

chan x felix x reader, threesome

lee minho

♧ dilf!minho by @cinhomi

dilf!minho x baby sitter!reader, breeding kink, pregnancy talk

bang chan

☆ bad idea by @hyunsvngs

step dad!chan, getting together, infidelity

hwang hyunjin

♤ dressing down by @jl-micasea-fics

best friends to lovers, mutual pining

lee felix

◇ best friend felix by @ddyskz

best friends to lovers, fluffy smut

♧ felix + thigh riding by @straykeedz

☆ cockwarming by @dreaming-medium

coworkers au, secretary!felix, office sex

ot7

♤ shadows we trust by @remedyx

supernatural au, mystical creatures!bts, dark circus au

◇ masked miracles by @remedyx

hybrid!bts, detective!reader

♧ stay alive by @staytinyville

mythical creatures!bts, supernatural au

☆ trouvaille by @spookyserenades

hybrid!bts, witch!reader, supernatural au, some horror themes

♤ eternally theirs by @imnotlauriane

dragon!bts, soulmates au, knights au

◇ the lucky seven by @riphobisbraces

hybrid!bts, princess!human!reader

♤ emerald gem by @sweetlyskz

hybrid!bts, reader has a farm, strangers to lovers

♧ oh, little red by @jincherie

wolf!yoongi x reader x wolf!jimin, red riding hood au

min yoongi

☆ celestial ruin by @remedyx

fallen angel!yoongi x angel!reader, corruption arc

♤ fxck a fxckboy by @yoongifis

fuckboy!yoongi x smartass!reader

kim taehyung

◇ isn't that what brothers do? by @aris-ink

step brother!taehyung, forbidden romance, dub con

♧ black swan by @aris-ink

step dad!taehyung, manipulation, corruption, cheating

☆new flame by @gimmethatagustd

alpha!taehyung x omega!reader, heat sex

jeon jungkook

♤ family secrets by @aris-ink

step brother!jungkook, dry humping

◇ icarus by @aris-ink

step brother!jungkook, risky/sneaky sex

♧ close by @aft3rhrs

step brother!jungkook, forbidden romance

choi soobin

☆ let's play a game by @anyamaris

soobin x reader x yeosang (ateez), friends to lovers, primal play

♤ closed doors by @last-words-ofashootingstar

soobin x reader x hongjoong, idol au, obsessed!soobin

◇ super shy! by @fairyofshampgyu

shy virgin baker!soobin x experienced reader

♧ i <3 nerds by @enha-cafe

nerdy!soobin secretly a sex god au

multiple members

☆ drippin' by @ncteez

'00 line x reader, friends to lovers, birthday orgy

♤ cookie jar by @neopuppy

step brothers!jeno and jaemin x reader, stuck in a dryer au

♧ sos by @neopuppy

a/b/o, sex pollen au, pollen induced heat/rut

lee jeno

☆ shameless by @neopuppy

step son!jeno x step mom!reader, infidelity, very dub con

♤ hand kink by @jaylaxies

roommates au, hand kink

lee mark

◇ i can help by @recklessmark

step dad!mark, corruption, manipulation, infidelity

ATEEZ rec list pt. 1 | pt. 2

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wildestdreamsblog · 6 months ago

Text

Might as well be drunk in love: 2 of 2 (sneakpeak)

Pairing: OT7 x Reader (CEO AU)

Summary: In which your friend thought it would be funny to give you a love potion, and in which seven CEOs accidentally drank it.

Warnings: Love Potion, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: This is only a sneakpeak of day 2. I'm not yet done writing the second chapter but I feel bad bcos of how long it's taking me...so here it is! Sneakpeak of day 1. Also, the entire chapter will be posted here when I'm done and satisfied with it :> Enjoy po

Part 1, Full day 1

“No one told me that we have an adorable new housemate.”

The six sleepy men sitting around the dining table looked up as soon as Park Jimin walked entered the room, in his arms was a fluffy cat that was actively hissing at him. He cooed down at it, softly stroking the thick fur with his hand that was now sporting claw marks.

“We’re already so close!” he announced with softness in his voice despite the repetitive kicks brought by the furry creature in his arm.

“I don’t think you are liked very much…” Jungkook quietly commented, his doe eyes went even larger at the bleeding scratches on his skin. As if sensing an opportunity to escape, the cat suddenly wriggled free from Jimin's arms and darted across the room, landing squarely in Hoseok's lap.

“Hi, my son! Did you have a good night’s sleep?” he asked affectionately, reaching down to stroke the cat's fur.

“Hyung has a secret son!” Jungkook whispered to Taehyung in a scandalous manner, clutching his nonexistent pearls. Taehyung, who looked like he lived and fought through three wars from his exhausted form and his sluggish movement only nodded at Jungkook.

“Whose cat is that? Is that yours, J-hope?” Jin asked, pointing at the cat with his mug. He didn’t know that they now had a furry housemate. Additionally, he didn’t know that he was a cat person.

Namjoon just smirked at his brothers, “That’s not his.”

“My God, I am so tired,” Jimin sat next to Taehyung, his muscles aching with exhaustion. With a heavy sigh, he leaned his whole weight on his friend, seeking some semblance of comfort in their shared weariness.

"Everything hurts," Taehyung moaned, mirroring Jimin's sentiment. He glanced over at Namjoon, pleading silently for a solution. "We need her. Hyung, please. Do something," he implored, his voice tinged with desperation.

Jungkook finally put down his spoon with a loud thud, standing up to look at them one by one. “Okay, I cannot be the only one curious about whose cat that is!” he pointed at the cat who only meowed back at him before shifting his finger to his hyung who was silently eating with a smile on his face. “And you, why do you look so good this morning, hyung, while the four of us look like we are 3 hours away from passing away?” he asked Yoongi, his doe eyes demanding answers from the chaotic bunch that only turned more chaotic as the morning wore on.

Yoongi, taking a leisurely sip of his coffee, raised an eyebrow at Jungkook's question. His lips curled into a smirk, revealing a hint of amusement. "Well, Kookie, some of us are just naturally blessed with good genes," he quipped, his tone teasing.

“Excuse me?! Are you saying that I am not blessed with good genes?! Me?! The world wide handsome?! Now, you’re just outright lying!”

“Hyuuuuung, do something! I think I’m dying!” Taehyung shouted amidst the noise.

“Stop screaming you’re scaring my son!” Hoseok shot back all while covering the cat’s little ears.

“Whose cat is that even?!” Jungkook asked again in disbelief, the vein in his throat protruding from annoyance and curiosity.

“Oh my God, Taehyung! I already did something, okay?!” Namjoon finally raised his voice for him to hear.

“Ahhhhhhh, my head hurts and she’s the only cure! I have to go to her!” Jimin whined sadly, attempting to leave his chair slowly.

“In that state?!” Jin shouted at Jimin and Taehyung, already feeling the stress causing havoc on his otherwise beautiful face.

But Taehyung and Jimin were already halfway out of their chair, clutching their heads dramatically. "I can't take this anymore! I need her!" he wailed, his eyes darting around the room with desperation only to find you by some miracle.

“Little one…” he called, his voice small as though he couldn’t believe that you were truly there. It was like their pain manifested you, and heavens, it was worth it. He’d willingly go through this pain if it meant seeing you and having you here where you belonged.

With them.

“Good morning, has anyone seen my cat?”

Your voice, despite it being low, was sufficient to stop the bickering among the CEOs. How they heard you amidst their own noise, you didn’t know. One thing was for certain, though. They were attuned to you like lovesick men did. Their eyes were on you with varying emotions. Jungkook was surprised, to say the least. Taehyung and Jimin, on the other hand, were relieved. Yoongi's smirk widened into a grin, his eyes sparkling with delight at the sight of you. Seokjin stared at you in disbelief, as if trying to comprehend how you managed to appear amidst the chaos. Namjoon and Hoseok exchanged a knowing glance, their expressions reflecting a sense of contentment and joy. The pair looked like they secured an extremely important deal and even won the lottery at the same day.

You didn’t see Taehyung moved but you certainly felt how his heavy body fell against yours. You certainly heard his sigh of relief even as he swayed on his feet.

And when you touched his hand to support him, that was when he fell.

#bts fic #bts ot7 x reader #yandere bts #bts yandere

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whyse7vn · 3 months ago

Text

Us -

[ot7 x reader]

AGUST DUI 🛴🔥

7 participants - 7 online

———————————

tae: ok raise your hand if you think yoongi should of died in the crash

namjoon: why would you say that?

tae: jungkook raise your hand

jk: ok

tae: not in real life the emoji please

jk: ok sorry

wait how did you know i raised my hand in real life??

tae: just do it

jk: like nike LOL

tae: i’m going to skin you alive

jk: sorry

🙋🏻‍��️

tae: why are you a woman

jk: gender is a construction

hobi: construct

jk: control

hobi: we are not playing a game

i am correcting you

jk: oh

tae: connecticut

hobi: stop

tae: i wanted to play :(

hobi: it wasn’t a game can you read

jk: omg i know someone from connecticut

i think

jin: you have no friends don’t lie jungkook

jk: no i swear i do

tae: he does

hobi: don’t act like you know

tae: i know

hobi: who is jungkooks friend then?

tae: jungkook tell this idiot ☠️

hobi: i’m asking YOU to tell me

jk: i don’t know who it is

but i know

i’m going to go insane who is it ohmygod

y/n: jaehyun lmao

hobi: oh

jin: yikes

jk: i’m sorry

tae: how dare she lmao like she didn’t just cook my first born alive by saying that name

jk: she typed it btw

tae: that’s not the point jungkook

i’m throwing up

jk: ur right me too

i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry

y/n: ???

don’t be sorry

jk: >.<

yoongi: lol

jin: tf he laughing at?

yoongi: we’re always talking about jaehyun for some reason

hobi: be fr

yoongi: …

y/n: shouldn’t you be dead from the crash or something

tae: IM SAYING LIKE

jk: maybe he’s still drunk

hobi: LMAOOOO

yoongi: i did not crash

namjoon: he just fell over guys

yoongi: right

jin: ofc the bitch with no license is defending the other bitch with no licence

y/n: typical 🙄

yoongi: why do you know he’s from connecticut

y/n: what????

namjoon: uh??

jin: wasn’t he JUST complaining about how much we talk about you know who…

hobi: kook was right this man is still off the juiceeeee

ha juice by shinee

i’m so funny wow

tae: if we think about it wtf is connecticut

what the fuck is that srsly

i hate that

what does that mean

america is so strange

another white thing i don’t get

i hate white people

jin: ur borderline white

tae: wtf is wrong with you never say shit like that again

ur borderline old

ur borderline dying

AND ur paler than me

like wtf

this poc erasure

someone get him

jk: connecticut more like connectiYUCK 🤮🤢🤮🤢🤮🤢🤮🤢🤮🤢🤮🤢

EWWUUUUUU 🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤮🤮🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮

hell on earth

yoongi: what

namjoon: ?

yoongi: are we talking about again

i just lost my train of thought

hobi: choo choo

y/n: chuu chuu

namjoon: jaehyun…

jk: 🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤮🤢🤢

tae: AND we are talking about poc erasure if you even care

you probably don’t

because you’re a racist

just like your father namjoon

jk: yoongi is older than namjoon

btw

tae: ok???

maybe i wasn’t even talking to yoongi

jk: ok i’m sorry

tae: it’s ok son

hobi: who the fuck were you talking to then?

tae: well yoongi but like maybe i wasn’t at the same time yk?

y/n: shut up

jk: yes

y/n: ?

tae: ok raise ur hand if you think hoseok is being unnecessarily mean to kim taehyung the 3rd today

namjoon: anyways

yoongi are you ok??

yoongi: yeah sorry my head is just all over the place rn

forget everything i said

hobi: is this due to your alcohol consumption

or is it your age getting to you LOL

since your old

older than namjoon

jk: older than namjoon

jin: jungkook is 27 btw

y/n: 23 forever

jin: that’s almost 30 yk?

hobi: at least it’s not 31

yk…

like you

jin: ok

jk: ok !!!!

namjoon: yeah i don’t know what you wanted to get out of that one…

jin: kys

ALL of you

hobi: ❤️

jk: love is love

y/n: awoman

jk: awoman

tae: if you all loved me you would send me a stack

hobi: notice how no money is being sent to your account

take that into consideration

tae: how about you consider my fist in you face

ok i take that back

hobi: don’t

y/n: bryson tiller

tae: why not :(

you didn’t even know what i was gonna say hobi >.<

hobi: namjoon tell him to shut up

namjoon: tae please

tae: yeah ok 😔

cuz you know i do NOT want the smoke

he might do me like he did jaehyun 😭🙏🏼

hobi: will you STOP bringing that up

tae: will you send me a STACK?

hobi: no

tae: then NO

namjoon: both of you stop

also where is jimin??

physically i mean

like do any of you know?

yoongi: y/n’s house i think

y/n: no he’s not??

tae: woah

jk: btw that is also my house yoongi

so y/n AND jungkook’s house

yoongi: y/n and jungkook’s house then

y/n: he’s not here

yoongi: but he was

y/n: how do you even know that??

yoongi: i just do

y/n: ok ????

yoongi: ok

jk: ok \ ^0^ /

tae: wait

jk: JIMIN WAS IN OUR HOUSE ?????

jin: keep up ohmugod

jk: LIKE PHYSICALLY IN OUR HOUSE

WHERE I SLEEP AT NIGHT???

y/n: he wasn’t in my room no

if that’s what ur asking

jk: BUT HE WAS HERE???

AFTER HE WAS SO MEAN SO EVIL?!

y/n: it’s been weeks i was gonna talk to him at some point ig

hobi: communication is key!

not key from shinee btw

jk: WHEN DID HE COME????

WHY DID HE COME????

y/n: he came a few weeks ago

august 6th ? i think

to talk about everything and apologise

jk: you let him in?

tae: LIKE…

y/n: yes

jk: and where was i?

y/n: it was a wednesday so ur boxing class?

jk: i’ve been staying back for those classes

so he came late right?

y/n: yeah

jk: did you invite him?

y/n: no he kinda just showed up

jk: and you still let him in??

y/n: yes jungkook

jk: why didn’t you tell me??

y/n: i wasn’t trying to keep it a secret or anything it just a lot

like a lot seriously

i wanted to give both me and jimin some time to process it all before we brought it all back to you guys

but i was going to tell you

all of you

jk: yeah but like it’s been weeks…

namjoon: to be fair i also did talk to

jimin and didn’t tell anyone

jk: namjoon

jin: also did that

hobi: u all know i talked to him so…

jk: guys???

i’m confused like what he said was wrong but you’re all still talking to him

like everything’s ok???

namjoon: he apologised to her kook

jk: FUCK HIS APOLOGY?????

tae you get it right?? you didn’t speak to him right??

tae: no i get it

i get you

i understand fully

but i won’t lie to you

i DID speak to him

on the phone

only for 5 minutes tho

i counted

i just wanted to make sure he didn’t yk like kill himself or something…

you know jimin is weak like that

not calling people who commit suicide weak but like calling jimin weak cuz that’s what he is

jk: TAE?????????????

tae: SORRY SUICIDE IS REAL YK?

AND LIKE IT DOESNT TAKE AWAY FROM THE FACT THAT I STILL WANT TO PUNCH HIM IN THE FACE

i was just

checking?

namjoon: you can say you were worried about him you know that

jk: SHUT UP???£/8/8/8,&&:&,

NO HE CAN’T

YOU ALL HAVE NO BACK BONE /£2&/&&:&:

NO LOYALTY

HE BASICALLY CALLED Y/N A WHORE AND YOUR ALL FRIENDS WITH HIM AGAIN??????

LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED?????

tae: NO I’M MAD IM STILL SO FUCKING MAD THE FUCK????

FUCK JIMIN I MEAN IT

jk: you are a liar

guys what£/£/&/&:&:

i thought you guys were better than this ???

i thought you all cared

jin: don’t be stupid

of course we care

jk: then act like it????

y/n tell them

y/n: jungkook

jk: tell them

in fact

jk added jimin to “AGUST DUI🛴🔥”

jk: tell ALL of them

y/n: jungkook please

jk: y/n seriously

jimin: hey

jk: shut the fuck up

tae: dude

i know ur upset and angry but doing this rn isn’t gonna solve anything

namjoon: he’s right jungkook

ur acting on emotion and not thinking properly right now

jk: IM not thinking properly???

was jimin thinking properly when he called her a slut and then ran away like a bitch?? was he????

namjoon: obviously not jungkook

hobi: but they’ve talked it out and he’s said sorry

jk: HIS SORRY DOESN’T MEAN SHIT

WHAT DO YOU GUYS NOT UNDERSTAND?

his fucking sorry means nothing

him saying sorry doesn’t take back the words he said

or any of the hurt he caused

namjoon: jungkook like she told us they’ve talked about it and he’s apologised

i not sure what more you want

jk: I WANT YOU GUYS NOT TO MOVE ON SO FUCKING FAST??

I WANT YOU GUYS TO AT LEAST TELL HIM HOW FUCKED UP THAT ALL WAS

BOTH PUBLICLY AND PRIVATELY

he should be walking around eggshells around us rn

you guys should be giving him a hard time

not wondering where he is or whether he’s depressed or not

and you wanna know something?

after it all happened she cried for hours

hours

i have genuinely never seen her so upset

she told me not to tell anyone but i have to so guys can fucking understand

and the fact that we didn’t even know that her and jimin spoke???

does that not bother you all?????

the fact that she was “so fine” and “okay” about the whole situation but didn’t tell us that they had supposedly ‘made up’

tae: she said that she was planning on telling us

jk: yeah but she didn’t did she? it’s been weeks

she said they spoke august 6th right?

we are quite literally in a whole new month

and you ALL should know that when she doesn’t tell us things it’s because she’s upset

you should KNOW her

and how she deals with things

you all claim to care but i’m yet to see how

you know i was really excited about this

we were all you know realising

and coming to terms with this

i thought that we felt the same

but this has shown me that you guys don’t even feel a quarter of what i do for her

and you probably never will

the way that you all just took her word for her being fine and okay about the whole situation without actually genuinely checking in with her is insane and the way you all rushed to make sure jimin was ok was even crazier

i just

whatever

bye

—

as you can probably tell this was supposed to be released last month but i tried to adjust it as much as i could

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @earthela @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @seokmyballs @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @meowgiz @jmnscutie @threeopossumsinacoat @cynicalyoongs @lightningpussy54 @eunthv @gigiiislife @lowkeykin @iammeandmeisiam @socksfirstalways @knilvr06 @lailaisarmy @thvkives @xstfudaisyx @xxxanimangxxx @solstice34 @ml8dy @hoeforseoks @futuristicenemychaos @featjunranghae @jksgirlfrl @yeetedandoboi @stellamalonesolaria @joonsprettygf

#happytimessoon >.<

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kyph3r · 7 months ago

Text

BOYFRIEND JUNGKOOK HCS ♡

pairing: bf!jungkook x fem!reader

genre: established relationship, fluff, smut

AN: long time no see!! ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა second round of the hc series, yoongi or jin are next !!

SFW HCS-

• like a big puppy when you first start dating, a lot of play fighting

• i feel like he would try to make his confession to you perfect, he gets you flowers and chocolates and has a big speech planned but ends up getting nervous and says something completely different than planned, but it still works!

• wants to hang out with you all the time, he will crash hangouts with your friends to spend time with you (which is sweet but also annoying)

• kisses you like you'll never see each other again it's the most dramatic thing in the world

• "jungkook, i'll only be gone for 30 minutes!" "ah, just one more i'm gonna miss you so much."

• definitely the type to get jealous, very obviously jealous, most of the time the person stealing your attention gets scared of him staring them down and backs off

• but sometimes his stare goes unnoticed and he will simply just walk over and lead you away from them

• sends videos and pictures of bam being cute with the caption “look at our son 🥺”

• a big huge humongous flirt, loves seeing you blush, but sometimes you will say something flirty to him and he'll be stuttering with a bright red face for the rest of the conversation

• would mainly call you baby but every once in awhile he would call you something really corny like sugar plum or apple of my eye to make you embarrassed

• writes you little notes whenever you go out somewhere, sometimes draws little pictures of you guys holding hands or playing with bam and puts it somewhere he knows you'll see

• he's just so boyfriend like idk how else to describe it, he'll get you whatever you want whenever you want, always treating you so well

NSFW HCS-

• when you guys first start having sex, he is very cautious with how he handles you

• once you guys are more comfortable though, he gets a lot rougher with you

• i feel like he's a switch but leans more towards being on top, can easily switch up in the middle of sex

• will not hesitate to slut himself out for your attention, you'll be trying to work on something in peace and he'll come in shirtless with the excuse that "it's too hot"

• isn't a very kinky guy but would be into using toys during sex

• obsessed with making you squirt. like that is his number one goal when fucking you

• the type to manhandle you into a position and hold you down with strong arms, also really likes when you get overstimulated and try squirm out of his manhandling and he just easily overpowers you

• loves showing you his strength, he'll take any chance he gets to pick you up and fuck you against something

• the times when he'll get a bit subby is when you'll ride him, which is something he loves way too much

• seeing you on top of him using him for pleasure just makes him crazy hard

• i feel like he would be the type to really enjoy dry humping, especially first thing in the morning when you're still sleepy

• gets so hard when you dance on him at parties, one minute you're throwing it back on him and the next you're in the bathroom bent over the counter top

• jealous sex is always intense, he'll have you in any position he can think of and make you remind tell him who you belong to (him obv)

• very talkative during sex, always a mix of the sweetest praise and the nastiest dirty talk being whispered in your ear

• aftercare is soothing with him, if he's not too tired he'll give you a massage until you drift off to sleep

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #bts smut #bts fluff #jungkook headcanons

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yoonmetogether · 11 days ago

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Part 1 - Play Nice

pairing: bodyguard!Yoongi x CEO!fem reader - brother/mob boss!Jin, brother/mob boss!Jungkook genre: mafia, e2l, sloooooow burn, age gap summary: As you and your brothers finalize the plans for the next chapter in the family business, you end up discovering things that you didn't expect. And upon meeting the man assigned to guard your life, you think the universe must really have it out for you. And you don't like it. Not one bit. warnings: angst, arranged marriage, drug addiction/rehab, family drama, parental loss, age gap, alcohol, smoking, mentions of speed racing, crime, drugs and weapons trading, night terrors, ptsd, guns, reader has a knife (and an attitude), character death minors pls dni wc: 19k buckle up, folks!!!

teaser l prologue l part i. play nice I interlude: strangers l part ii. I

You make a mocking face at your phone, specifically the social media app that shoves pictures in your face of your university friends opening up their architecture firm that you were meant to be a part of. Good for them, you think sourly to yourself. You would be happier if you were there with them, before your dreams and plans to settle down in one place were foiled.

It’s been almost a year since they were, right before you finished up your second to last semester of grad school when your brother called to tell you that your father had died.

Your father, who never looked you in the eye. Your father, who you spent too much of your childhood vying for his attention, especially as a teenager, around the time he started to pay more attention to Jungkook. Like when you purposely flunked classes, hoping he’d care enough to yell at you to do better, only for Jin to show up to teacher meetings in sunglasses and a mask but the disappointment wasn’t hidden underneath. Or when you went around shoplifting with your friends and got caught by mall security, wishing he’d be the one to show up and get you out of trouble. But yet again, Jin came in another disguise, and the disappointment was the same. He knew what you were doing, but didn’t have the heart to tell you it wasn’t worth it, because your father would never care. He barely acknowledged your existence.

So, at the news of his passing, you felt nothing. That was until you realized that it meant everything would fall on your brothers’ shoulders. And suddenly, you became a part of the very thing Jin worked so hard to keep you away from. Your duty and prospects became that of carrying out your father’s legacy. Before you knew it, you were set to be engaged to the son of a casino owner, so that you would take over the casino in the city your brothers ran, streets filled with crime and money fueled by Crow blood.

Kim blood. Dirty blood. Your blood.

Over the summer, you finished up your last semester, rushed through six classes in order to complete all of your credits. You honestly don’t know how you pulled it off. Three weeks before you were scheduled to graduate, Jin called, bearing the bad news that Jungkook had relapsed and was back in rehab, so you needed to come home right away. You didn’t get to walk the stage. And you certainly couldn’t give the school an address to send your diploma to. So everything was lost in the wind.

Jungkook was still in rehab by the time you got a ring shoved on your finger. None of your friends know about the engagement. Granted, none of them can even be invited to the wedding. You can’t even tell them where you’re living now.

You probably will never speak to them again.

Locking your phone and dropping it in your lap, you sigh dramatically as you look out the window at the cloudy weather, the rain that pours on the windshield, the thunder that rumbles from above. It’s been cloudy a lot lately. Or maybe the gloom that’s been sitting in your chest ever since you got married has made everything around you seem dull and gray. Even your house is decorated without color, thanks to your minimalist husband who has no taste for style. He thinks as long as things are expensive, they’re worth having even if it’s all fucking ugly. Your husband didn’t care for your opinion when he picked out the house and furniture, despite the fact that you just graduated with a minor in architecture.

You’re just glad he picked a spot in the woods, right outside of the city.

You’ve always had a talent for decorating, handing it off to the fact that you’ve moved so many times throughout your life, having to buy new furniture since you couldn’t drag it everywhere you went. You became the queen of thrifting. As long as you had your keyboard, favorite posters and plushies, you were good. You took care to make your place your home, a reflection of you and your interests in order to keep you grounded, help you feel like you belonged somewhere, even though you never stayed in one place for too long. Jin preferred it that way, felt it was safer. But it meant you couldn’t have normal friendships or relationships because they wouldn’t keep in touch if you dropped out halfway through the year to transfer to a university in an entirely different place, sometimes a country. It was very destabilizing, and it made things equally lonely, and your brother tried to make up for it by wiring you substantial amounts of money for you to use freely, but responsibly.

You never touched that money. Because how could you as a college student, who worked part-time, low wage jobs, explain the luxuries that your brother’s money could afford? The money that could pay for a few hundred thousand parking lots of the most expensive and rare cars, at least five cities worth of houses, maybe even feed a small country, much less your tuition and rent. No, you would get by on your own. Sometimes you found yourself at a poker table, often dabbling in an underground gambling ring because that’s where you could make the most of your money. (You couldn’t bring yourself to go to a casino. It would make you think of Jungkook and how much he was struggling). Who would expect a young girl who looked like she got lost on her way to a club to be any good at placing bets? It’s not your fault you grew up around brothers and friends who taught you how to play cards, molding you to have phenomenal skills in seeing through people and their tells, that they gave themselves away through their eyes. You learned how to pull off the perfect poker face, faking being naive and innocent, got them to fall in your trap and leaving them in shock when you walked away with fat wads of cash in your pocket. You guess that made you a hypocrite.

But there were times when you ran out of money and had to choose between paying a light bill or buying groceries, and you found yourself considering withdrawing from those offshore bank accounts, but you knew once you started, you wouldn’t stop. So, you would end up eating the best meals of your life in a dark and cold apartment, sitting alone with the guilt of knowing your brothers would be hurt to think you were ashamed of them.

That guilt still lingers, especially now that you’re riding in a tinted SUV, lavish seats and custom interiors, materials and technology not found in cars of the average citizen. You're well out of the bounds of average by now. You don’t feel like you belong even though your brothers are in the exact same boat.

“Is everything alright?” Mr. Han asks from the driver’s seat.

“Yeah, just..." you sigh, each breath you take doing the opposite of calming the anxiety racing in your veins. "I was supposed to be managing this architecture firm with my uni friends by now, working on biophilic design that connects spaces with nature and all that.”

You hope you're hiding your bitterness better than you think, remembering how excited you’d been to finally do something you were passionate about and how quickly the ball was dropped on that.

"That sounds interesting. Maybe you can incorporate some of that at the casino when you’re doing the renovations."

"Mm. But I don't know if my future father-in-law would be down to have a bunch of plants all over the place." Mr. Han laughs. "Well, if you're the one in charge once you’re married, I don't see why not."

You smile, grateful for his support, but you know as a female CEO among a board of directors and investors that are majority men, you will only get so much leeway. But you'll have to make do with what you have. You’re an expert at this point.

"You've done a good thing by coming back to your brothers now that things are complicated." "I just... I don’t know if I can do it. Y’know. The other part."

That part being the real reason you're getting involved at the Stay Gold casino: to take care of business that belongs to your family. Not just supervising the renovations, or overseeing the slot games, blackjack and roulette tables, but keeping a tight chokehold on the money that flows in and out of all that gambling. Money that serves as a front to what you'll be taking care of behind the scenes. Essentially, you'll be a loan shark. And that's what's been keeping you up at night, knowing what comes with ensuring certain associates make their payments in timely fashions, especially if they're buying protection. At least you’ll be putting your business degree to use. "You are just as smart and tough as your brothers, if not more. You'll be able to handle it, I have no doubts, Miss Jeon."

But I’m not like them, is what you want to say, but shouldn’t because it would be a lie.

"Thanks, Mr. Han. And you know you can call me Angel.”

"Of course. I'm always here if you need anything."

And you know he means it but it's a small comfort. Mr. Han has been your brothers’ driver for as long as you can remember, always so kind and considerate, making you wonder how a man like him ended up in a job like this. When you found out you were going to have to be chauffeured around, you weren’t exactly ecstatic because you love to drive, love the freedom that comes with it, but you figured with Mr. Han, it wouldn’t be so bad.

The SUV drives through an underground tunnel, leading into a narrow road surrounded by a forest that takes you to the gated driveway of your brothers’ extravagant mansion. Mr. Han cracks open the window to speak with the armed guard who then waves to someone you can’t see and the iron-gates buzz open. The tires slowly rumble over the cobblestone, past the grand and meticulously landscaped lawn with many guards littering the property, up to the roundabout in front of the house where there's a tall, sharp-jawed, and suited guard waiting for you. Yeong, the (devastatingly handsome) man who’s been assigned to escort you whenever you show up to meet with your brothers. He opens the door and greets you politely as another guard appears from the back of the car. This one doesn’t say anything as you get out, and you’re glad because you’ve never seen him before and you don’t like interacting with any of your brothers’ men whom you haven’t met. You remind yourself and your constricting throat that these men work for your family, and you’re safer with them around than not. But still. You hate being followed and made to feel like you can’t go anywhere by yourself.

Before you can make it to the porch, your brother enthusiastically swings open one of the large double doors, quickly beckoning you in and shutting the door. As you step in and shuck off your shoes, you notice the indiscreet way he gives your outfit a onceover, like he’s never seen you in sweats before.

“Well, you didn’t have to get all dressed up just for us.” You glare at him, lifting your middle finger.

“Shut up, Jin. Just because you sleep in your suits.”

“That’s Jinnie to you,” he says through puckered lips, squishing your cheeks. “C’mere.”

He pulls you into a strong embrace that you weakly pretend to fight off.

“Missed ya, kiddo.” Taking your coat, he kisses the top of your head, and you mumble similar sentiments into his chest with a small smile that quickly turns into a scowl when he roughly rubs his knuckles into your hair.

You push him away and scurry towards the dining room, stomach growling at the wonderful smells emanating from the kitchen. If there’s one thing you’ve missed now that you’ve moved out (again), it’s Jin’s cooking. Your brothers too of course, but that’s a given.

Jungkook is there sitting in his spot, to the left of the head of the table, already eating. It looks like today is one of his good days, and you find yourself smiling. He's eating his food and not just picking at it, the bags under his eyes aren't as prominent, and his hands are steadier than usual.

"Hey, loser. You couldn’t wait for me?" you say to Jungkook as you sit across from him.

“You’re late,” he mumbles, mouth full of food, glancing at you as he chews. “Is that why you look like shit?”

“Funny, ‘cuz I dressed up like you today.” You stick your tongue out at his glare, becoming distracted when you notice something at the corner of his bottom lip.

“What is- oh that’s a stud. I thought it was a big ass zit.”

“Piss off.” He waves your hand away when you tease poking at the metal ball.

You live for bullying your brother, even though he’s two years older than you. He was pretty mean to you as a kid, so this is just payback. Sure you were annoying, but what are little sisters for? At the end of the day, you know he’s your ride or die, just like you are for him.

“It’s cute. What’s next, a tongue piercing?”

“I draw the line at tongue piercings,” Jin intervenes, calling out from the kitchen. Him and his supersonic hearing. You snicker and Jungkook just rolls his eyes.

“Any new tats?”

He shows you the additions to his full sleeve and you marvel over the designs that he created, asking the inspiration or story behind each one, always fascinated by his talent. You have a knack for drawing yourself - you wouldn’t have the passion for architecture without it - but it’s never been on the same level as Jungkook’s. Dude can paint museum-worthy landscapes and portraits within an hour. He’s annoying like that.

When you’re done examining his arm, you sit back in your chair, snatching a morsel of his food on the way and he grabs your wrist in an attempt to stop you but instead stares at your sleeve.

“Wait, this is my jersey,” he says, ignoring the way you fight to wrestle out of his grip. “I’ve been looking for this!”

“So what? It looks better on me.” You rip your arm away and you’re already halfway out of your chair just as your brother lunges over the table to grab at the jacket. You spring up and out of the dining room, a shrill laugh escaping when you look back to see Jungkook dashing after you.

You may have grown up with him, done taekwondo and thrown loads of rounds in boxing gloves with him, even gotten him into a headlock once or twice, but now he’s built like a bus, and he could bulldoze you down in two seconds flat with no regrets. And it makes you want to scream your head off.

Sprinting into the living room, you clamber over the back of the couch, knowing Jin would kill you if he saw you with both feet on the cushions, but you’re much more worried about Jungkook closing in on you.

“Go away!” you shriek when he leaps over the couch with ease, like he’s a damn gold medalist in Living Room Olympics.

“Give me my jacket!”

“I’ve had this for like three months, how are you just now missing it?” You point out as you attempt to use the coffee table as a barricade.

“I told you to stop stealing my clothes.”

“It’s only because you have such a cool style.”

He pauses to look at you like he won’t fall for your bullshit compliment. You take this lapse as an opportunity to make a run for it into the kitchen where Jin is filling a carafe of water with fresh-cut berries, rushing to hide behind him at the counter like you used to do as a kid. Jin acts unbothered, barely noticing the way you’re gripping the back of his sweater like a lifeline, only looking over his shoulder when you make a noise as Jungkook jogs towards you.

“Cheater.”

"Yah, come on, you two," Jin admonishes as Jungkook tries to grab you, making you hurry to Jin’s right, grabbing his bicep as if his big guns will protect you.

"He started it."

"Did not!" Jungkook exclaims, and you childishly stick your tongue out at him.

“Give your brother his jacket,” Jin says in a parental tone. “But I like it.” Turning around, your oldest brother levels you with a look that mirrors the one Jungkook gave you a few minutes ago and you know not to argue anymore, begrudgingly shrugging off the jersey and throwing it at your brother who catches it with a victorious smile.

“Come on, kids, let’s go eat,” Jin says as he picks up the carafe and three glasses.

Both hands on your back, Jungkook pushes you and you stumble forward.

“Ow, don’t push me. Jinnie!”

“Big baby," Jungkook mumbles through his teeth.

“Big bitch," you fire back.

Jin clicks his tongue and mutters something under his breath, something about how is it that he has two siblings in their mid-20s who still act like children. And it is pretty interesting, considering you and Jungkook are about to assume control of the fucking mafia. But it’s been years since you’ve played around with your brother, and now that he’s about to take over for Jin, who knows if you’ll ever be able to do this again. The thought creates a bit of a hole in your heart, like digging a grave for something that isn’t gone yet.

Once Jin turns his back, leading the way into the dining room, you and Jungkook exchange various gestures that all silently mean “fuck you.” Jin shoots a knowing glare over his shoulder that makes you both hide your offensive hands behind your backs, forcing yourselves not to laugh.

“Are you two ever going to grow up?”

“No,” you both answer simultaneously. Jin huffs and looks between you two with a shake of his head.

“Sit down and eat before the food that I put my blood, sweat, and tears into gets cold.”

You and Jungkook share an eyeroll at Jin’s drama, digging in so he won’t try some dramatic monologue about cooking.

"So, how are you doing?" Jin asks you a few minutes into the meal. "Fine," you shrug, too focused on the food to give a more complex answer.

"You’re all settled in at the house?"

“Mhmm,” you hum indifferently, feeling your appetite slowly start to slip away. You were hoping you could have a nice, normal night with your brothers, pretending that you aren’t dreading going back to the house, to a fiancé you know next to nothing about and all of the work and unpacked boxes you have waiting in your wing of that big ass, bland ass house.

“How are you two getting along?” Internally sighing, your shoulders deflate.

“He’s not horrible, I guess. But he’s just… I don’t know. Boring. And lame. He thinks his tattoos make him look cool.” You glance at Jungkook and gesture to his sleeve.

“Which is something the two of you have in common.” Jungkook’s lip curls and he points his chopsticks at you and flinches. You blow him a kiss in return that you change to a middle finger.

“He also acts like he’s never been to the grocery store. And I very seriously doubt he can tie his own shoes. His butler does pretty much everything for him.” Just the word ‘butler’ makes you want to throw up, not to mention the fact that you’re about to marry a guy who needs one.

“But things are going okay?” Jin asks just as you shove more food in your mouth. Can’t a girl just eat?

“What is this, twenty questions?”

“I’m just checking in.”

“Okay, but can we not do this right now? Please.” You ignore the way your brothers share a look.

“If things aren’t going well, you need to tell us.”

“Things are going as well as they can for an arranged marriage. We might live on opposite ends of the house, but we’re cordial. You’re not really expecting me to actually like this whole situation, right?” Jin regards you carefully.

“No, but you do need to make sure it all works out.”

Suddenly, you've completely lost your appetite. You scowl and drop your silverware, sitting back in your chair with your arms crossed, refusing to look at them both staring at you.

“God, Jin. I agreed to marry him, didn’t I? Picked up my entire fucking life to come back here and help out even though you promised-” You point harshly at Jin who looks at you with a small frown as his fingers rub on the edge of a napkin. You know it’s not his fault but damn, it hurts that he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

“That I would never have to do that. What more do you want? An heir or something?”

They both wince. “No, of course not.”

“Then lay off my ass about it. I’m fine, okay? Don’t be a helicopter.” “Honey, I just want to make sure he’s treating you right.”

“What does it matter? I’m stuck with him either way. Besides, I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can. I’m only-” But you don’t want to hear anymore. With a grimace, you pick up your plate of unfinished food, scoot back your chair and stand up to head into the kitchen.

Jin leans forward with a heavy sigh, steepling his fingers, resting his forehead against them and closing his eyes.

"Way to go, hyung," you hear Jungkook mumble as you storm out of the dining room.

Stewing, you put away your leftovers and start to clean up the counters, knowing you’re the one being dramatic now but you can’t help it. This is supposed to be your safeplace, here with your brothers, especially since time with all three of you together is running out. Right now, you want to forget about all your responsibilities, all the things you have to step up to that you never imagined doing, and you wish your brothers would just go along with it. But they’re more realistic than you, it seems.

You hear dishes clink in the dining room, and soon you’re joined by your brothers, all silently working to clean up the kitchen. You pay no mind to their attempts at getting you to lighten up by nudging your shoulders, flicking water in your direction, and taking over the dish scrubbing, and it isn’t until Jin shoves a glass of sparkling cider in your hands just as you try to make an escape to the living room do you lose your resolve.

“I’m sorry, kiddo. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Jin says as he and Jungkook corral you towards the couch.

You huff, fingers rolling on the stem of the glass, swirling the red content inside, and sit on the plush cushion, your brothers on either side of you.

“I’m not. Just- I can’t remember the last time all three of us have been in one place and I didn’t want to talk about any outside stuff. I just wanted to pretend that things are how they used to be. Because what if-” A lump forms in your throat.

“What if this is actually the last time?” Jin reaches forward and grabs your hand, a serious line knitted through his eyebrows.

“It won’t be. I promise.” “You’ve always told us to never make promises.”

“Well, I made the rules so I can change them. I am going to come back,” he says, squeezing your hand. “I don’t know when and I don’t know how, but-”

“You know something’s starting right now? Okay, Ariel,” Jungkook cuts in, grinning when you snort and Jin shoots him a scowl, leaning over to roughly ruffle his hair. You laugh at Jungkook’s dirty look when he thinks Jin just messed up his hair and Jin tries to fix it but ends up making it worse and a small hand-slapping fight ensues. This is what you’ll miss. This dynamic, where no matter how hard you all try, you can never be serious.

“Do you think we can go on a trip?” you ask out of the blue, casted by a nostalgic wave longing for memories that make you feel normal.

“Y'know, to the cabin? Just for a couple of days.” Jin smiles, but it’s small. Jungkook doesn’t look at either of you.

Ever since you can remember, any spare time Jin had, he whisked you and Jungkook away to a cabin somewhere in the mountains, never going to the same spot twice. You waited for the days that Jin would show up at the boarding school, make up some excuse to get you both out and drive up to a cabin where he would let you both run wild. In the woods was where you learned how to ride your bike and climb a tree, legs swinging from a branch with Jin standing underneath you, arms held out like you’d fall any second. You were too busy yelling at Jungkook to stop throwing sticks and leaves at you from a few branches above. A cool summer sunset by a river was where you caught your first fish that Jungkook ended up chasing you around with for a good five minutes. You screamed at the top of your lungs, Jungkook cackled maniacally, and Jin did his best not to laugh, only grabbing the fish out of his brother’s hands once you began to run around him like a maypole. Later, you got your revenge by shoving the chopped fish head in his face after Jin started cooking. Jungkook cried all throughout dinner and, in your stubbornness, you refused to apologize so Jin made you hold hands for the remainder of the night until one of you caved.

As you got older and Jin got busier, he would allow you to make plans with your friends to go to a cabin in a discreet location, whether that was in the woods or by the beach. You loved your friends, but you always found yourself missing Jin, wishing he was there to cook and make lame dad jokes, play guitar by a fire he started and act out ridiculous stories until you and Jungkook were rolling on the ground with stomachs that ached from laughing so much.

It wasn’t until you were much older that you realized those trips to the cabin were the only times the three of you spent together where Jin wasn’t constantly looking over his shoulder. Sometimes though, he wouldn’t speak for a while, a blank yet morose energy surrounding him that he could only shake himself out of if you and Jungkook poked and prodded him enough. In the woods, he never wore a mask or sunglasses or a variety of hats like he did when he came to pick you up from school. Later down the line, Jungkook had to do that too and that’s when everything started to change. You could no longer see each other unless the location and meeting times were planned in advance, and there were always some men in suits, sunglasses, and dark coats with wires hanging out of their ears accompanying you.

A year after Jungkook graduated from secondary school was when things fell apart. Jin made you promise to never speak about either of them to anyone, and helped you come up with a pseudonym. By the time he shipped you off to study abroad once you started university, you never used your real name and neither did they. From then on, you only spoke to your brothers on the phone, one that you had to pick up at a convenience store and dispose of once you were done. The calls were typically short - Jin asking if you were doing well in school, if you ate enough, had enough money. You rarely spoke with Jungkook, as he spent a lot of time going in and out of rehab, and when he wasn’t doing that, he was learning the family business with Jin. You missed him, your partner in crime, and you wished you could take him with you, keep him away from your father so maybe he could have a chance at healing, but that wasn’t in the cards. Jin explained time and time again, that this was how things had to be. He may have raised both of you, been the reason you were alive and thriving, but he had no control over the circumstances at home. You couldn’t go back, he wouldn’t let you, and for a while, you thought you’d never see your brothers again.

(There was a time when you did go back, but they never knew about it. When you were feeling homesick, you took a ferry to Jeju to visit the beach where you spent a few summers with your brother and your friends. You spent a few days reminiscing about old times, old friends. It was nice to get away, to feel something familiar for a moment, hang on to memories that you would give anything to relive. But you don’t like to think about that trip anymore. And sometimes you wish you’d never gone back.)

Now you just want to go to the cabin to cling onto the past, of how things used to be, because you know nothing will ever again be the same.

"We can't, Angel. I'm sorry. I have to leave in a few days." And just like that, the wave crashes onto the shores of despair.

“What? You said you had until next month.” Your brothers share another look, another tell that they’ve been keeping you out of the loop of something.

“I do, but I think it’s best to leave earlier so it won’t be glaringly obvious that I got tipped on my arrest warrant.”

“Yeah, probably,” you agree dejectedly. “It was just hard not being home all this time, so I wanted us to hang out. I guess I like you guys or something. Weird, right?” “Totally. ‘Cause we hate you,” Jungkook teases. You scoff and grab a pillow to whack him with over Jin’s head. Jin laughs and lets you get in a few hits before tugging the throw out of your hand, whacking the side of your head, and tossing it on the other end of the couch out of reach.

Silence sits between you for a few moments until Jungkook stands, tugs you up on your feet, and shoves his phone into your hands.

He tries to teach you dance moves from Tik Tok trends, laughing a little too hard when you mess up, and Jin ultimately has to break up a small wrestling match. After you finish filming one video that will forever sit in drafts, Jin gets out the game console and wipes the floor with you and Jungkook on Super Mario. He brags loudly, enticing you both to tackle him, but despite your conjoined efforts, he somehow gets you and Jungkook into simultaneous headlocks, not letting go until you profess that he’s the unmatched master of Mario.

Jungkook then puts on his favorite movie, to which you and Jin stifle groans as you’re made to watch Iron Man for what has to be the millionth time. Jungkook just claps giddily when the Avengers theme song blares through the speakers and neither of you can deny this small happiness. It’s good to see him smile. But throughout the movie, you shoot him small glances out of your periphery when you notice him biting his nails and you know he’s zoned out, and that it’s not a good place where his mind wandered off to. You gently grab his hand and push it down, and he goes to cross his arms like he’s ashamed, but you keep hold of his hand, folding them together and resting them between you. Giving your hand a squeeze, he offers you a tiny smile and goes back to fully engage with the movie.

When the credits roll, you tease Jin for immediately yawning and stretching as he announces he’s turning in. You ask Jungkook if he’s up for a game of Overwatch that he starts up without a word and passes you a console.

After a few minutes of playing, Jin emerges from the kitchen with a couple bowls of snacks and bottles of your favorite drinks that he sets down in front of you on the carpet. You both thank him in unison without taking your attention off the game and he huffs an endeared laugh.

“Don’t stay up too late,” Jin murmurs from behind you both, ruffling your hair. “Crazy kids.”

“Night, grandpa,” you smirk, laughing when Jin pushes your head.

He goes upstairs and leaves you to play the game. But every now and then, you glance over to Jungkook, wanting to check in on him. It’s been a minute since you've had a one-on-one.

“You look like you’re doing good.”

“I’m trying,” he mumbles a bit stiffly, eyes unmoving from the screen, and you take in his tense expression.

“That’s all that matters, bro.” You lightly punch his bicep, and he playfully tips sideways. “You know you can talk to me anytime.”

“Yeah.” It doesn’t seem like he wants to, at least not about certain things, but you need him to know that of all the things that are changing, the fact that you’re his kid sister who he can lean on will stay the same.

“I wish I had been home more often,” you say tentatively. “I know Jin couldn’t always be around.”

He shrugs, nose scrunching. “S’alright, I wasn’t alone. D was there.”

You’ve heard about D. How he had Jungkook’s back in a jail fight a few years ago when Jungkook had a habit of lashing out and starting fights to prove he was tough. Which he was but that didn’t matter if he was outnumbered. When he was booked for a DUI (riding on his motorcycle half-drunk like a dummy) and forced to go through withdrawal, it increased his violent tendencies. After accusing a burly man twice his size for looking at him the wrong way, he found himself getting beat up on by three grown felons in the middle of the yard. He would’ve ended up with a cracked skull if it wasn’t for D. And from then on, he became your brother’s guardian angel of sorts and eventually began working for them.

“You’ll meet him tomorrow at dinner.” You hum, mildly disinterested.

Joy. Spending an evening with your brothers’ capos and guards is just how you wanted to enjoy your last weekend with the both of them. Not.

“And, um, we workout at the boxing club every Friday. Maybe you could join us.”

You look over at him incredulously. There was a time when your brother acted like you tagging along with his friends was a punishment worse than hell.

“You mean you want me to box with you?” He shrugs.

“Gotta make sure you can still fight.”

You roll your eyes. Of course you can still fight. You’ve just been able to get out of precarious situations before you had the need to throw hands. For the most part. That’s the difference between you and your brother - he goes looking for trouble while you do your best to avoid it. But neither of you will be backed into a corner and made to stay there. You won’t go down easy.

“So you down?”

“I won’t be getting in the way of boy time with D?” Smiling, he shakes his head.

“Nah. But you could stand to learn a thing or two from him; he’s a damn good fighter.”

“Better than you?”

“No one’s better than me,” he smirks.

“I guess I’ll have to see for myself.” He chuckles and fakes a slow punch on the side of your head.

“You still have that knife I gave you a few years ago?” You think for a moment. Right before you went abroad for college, Jungkook gave you the blade he carried with him everywhere, one that was sheathed in your favorite color and had a strap attached to it. You cherish it, but you’ve never had to use it. But you figure that’s about to change.

“Oh, yeah, it’s somewhere. I didn’t have a lot of time to really organize when I was packing. Why?”

“You should keep it on you from now on. Just in case.”

“You mean you’re not gonna be around to protect me, big brother?” you tease. He shoots you a little smile but when his eyes focus back on the screen, you notice him squint and nibble on his bottom lip for a second. You can’t help the feeling that he’s keeping something to himself.

“Not always.”

You frown. There was a small comfort in thinking that you could rely on him when for years you’ve been apart, but now as new circumstances arise, you don’t know if you’ll be able to see each other as much as you want to. Definitely not enough to make up for lost time.

Just as you’re about to tell him not to worry because you’re a big girl, more of an assurance to yourself, he clears his throat to change the subject again.

“D is really cool, I think you’ll like him.” You offer a mostly sincere smile, thinking to yourself that it sounds as if your brother is trying to sell you on D’s character. You don’t think you’ll care much for it, since he’s Jungkook’s security and all and you won’t be interacting with him much. But you’ll try if it means something to your brother.

“If he’s anything like you, then I doubt it.” His head snaps in your direction and in a fraction of a second, his arm hooks around your neck and pulls you into him, forcing your face into his shoulder so you can’t see a thing.

You fight your way out of his headlock, exclaiming when you notice that he’s beating your ass on the game, and lean on your elbow to press your foot on his cheek in an attempt to distract him, but he only laughs. You complain and cuss him out as he starts winning and reach over to wrestle the controller out of his hands. As you tussle loudly, Jin’s upstairs bedroom door opens and he calls down the hall,

“Keep it down! I need my beauty sleep!”

“You sure do!” Jungkook shouts back, sending you both in a fit of giggles when you hear his door slam shut loudly in response. You come to a truce, if only to save yourselves from facing a grumpy Jin in the morning.

You play and talk into the wee hours of the sunrise, until you slump next to each other and pass out, bellies full and faces covered with evidence of Jin’s snacks that you demolished.

The sky is a gray-blue hue when you’re stirred by your brother talking in his sleep and his incoherent mumbling makes you coo. But just as you go to cover him up with a blanket, he yells out nonsensically, leg kicking over a near empty bottle and sending the rest of the contents into the carpet. His arm shoots up into the air and panic begins to set in when he thrashes around on the floor. After getting the dishes and consoles out of the way, you run up the stairs to Jin’s room, barging in without knocking so you can quickly wake him up. Shaking his shoulder, you stutter out his name and he groans upon being disturbed.

“God, what-” “He’s having a night terror.” Without a second missed, Jin flings himself out of bed and races out of his room and down the stairs, with you following close behind.

Once back in the living room, Jin rushes to Jungkook’s side, who’s now flailing his limbs and shouting but still fast asleep. You watch as your oldest brother gets on his knees, not hesitating to grab Jungkook’s arms, pin them to his abdomen so he can pull him up and against his chest, all while calling his name to try and wake him. Jungkook’s eyes fly open with a gasp and his body reacts violently against Jin’s who almost ends up with an elbow in the chin. But Jin is an expert at handling Jungkook’s episodes, and he knows just what to do to keep them both safe while he gets him to calm down.

“Shh, bunny,” Jin hushes as Jungkook’s body fights him, rubbing his chest and shoulders to soothe. “It’s okay. I’m here, your sister’s here, you’re alright.”

There are visible tears streaming down your brother’s face and you have to sit on the step and cover your mouth with your hand to stop yourself from crying. It hurts so fucking bad to see him this way. It’s been years since the last time you’ve witnessed this, but you know he’s had many in between that Jin has been around for.

“Honey,” Jin calls to you softly above Jungkook’s sobs. “Go up to my bathroom and get out the lock box that’s under the sink. His medicine’s in there. Grab my wallet too, on the dresser.”

With a solemn nod, you stand and turn around as Jungkook slings an arm over Jin’s shoulder to hide in his neck, and your foot freezes mid-step when you hear him loudly wail again and Jin hushes him, rubs his back, and you hurry up the stairs again to grab what you hope will let Jungkook get some rest, some escape, some peace. You come back down with the lockbox and wallet to find Jin sitting on the couch, Jungkook curled up under a blanket with his head in Jin’s lap, chest heaving as he lays on his side. You approach them slowly, and Jin quietly instructs you to get out a small key from his wallet to open the lockbox, which carries Jungkook’s medicine that helps with his anxiety and parasomnia. You head into the kitchen to grab a glass of water while Jin encourages Jungkook to sit up and by the time you return, he seems to be breathing a little easier. After he drinks down a pill, he lays back down and you hope he’ll be able to sleep without another disruption.

You and Jin watch him for a few moments, and when it finally seems that he’s settled, you share a collective sigh of relief. But still, you’re worried. It scares you to see him that way.

“When was the last time this happened?” Jin looks so tired as he tries not to frown.

“More frequently now that you’re back home. Usually he does better when you’re around but. He feels bad that you’re doing this. He thinks if it weren’t for him and everything that happened, you could’ve stayed abroad and made a life for yourself.”

It’s true. You would never say it to their faces, but it is the truth.

“But… then I would never see you guys again.” Your throat tightens.

“And now that you’re leaving,” you sniff, tears threatening to prick your waterline. “I don’t want him to be alone.”

In the dim light, Jin beckons you over, soft affection in his eyes, and you squeeze in between him and the end of the couch. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and kisses the top of your head.

“You’re a good kid, honey. Even though I never wanted this for you, for either of you, I feel better knowing that you’re going to look out for each other.”

“Me too, Jinnie.”

He pats your arm and you sit quietly for a few minutes with your head on his shoulder, starting to feel sleepy again, safe and assured by Jin’s embrace. Jungkook is snoring now, the meds must’ve kicked in. He won’t talk about this in the morning, and neither of you will ask him to.

"And, about Jay,” your eyes blink open at his gentle tone. “I was thinking maybe what we can do is send him out on business trips so he's not around as much.”

You smile, arm curling around his thick bicep. “Thanks, Jinnie.”

“Just play nice, okay? It’ll all work out.”

You nod, too tired to let that potential burden add to your stress. Pretending to be completely fine with the engagement is the least of your worries right now.

The venue that Jin chose to host the small get-together of you and his men sits on the private top floor of one of the many skyscrapers he owns that you’ve had dreams of designing. Yeong walks at a comfortable distance behind you, quiet but gentlemanly. Stoic, which seems to be a uniform demeanor among your brothers’ men, one Jin expects you to replicate. You know that’s really your father’s expectation, but he’s gone. You would find it difficult to respect him anyway.

Striding into the dining hall, you pay no mind to all of his henchmen in the room, only giving focus to the one who stands out among them all, and not just because of his looming height and broad shoulders. Nor are you intimidated by the commandeering authority that follows him wherever he goes.

“Jin!” you call, making all heads turn to you but you act as if no one but your brother is here. He twists to face you with that shining smile of his that you know is reserved for a select few.

When you walk over to the table, air hazy with cigar smoke, liquor, and low conversation, you keep your expression polite despite the heat that spreads through you when all eyes fall on you. Yeong is close behind and reaches out for a chair once you approach the head of the table, greeting your brother who stands up from his proverbial throne to welcome you.

“Hey, sis. You look nice,” he says warmly, leaning in to welcome you into your seat and you smile, thanking Yeong who pushes in your chair once you sit. Just as you do, Jin leans in to whisper in your ear,

“You’ve got to get used to not using real names here, Angel.” Pulling away, you cringe and mouth your apology that he dismisses with a singular nod.

“Uh, where’s bro? He always gives me shit for being late.” Jin smiles as he sits back down.

“He’s on his way. He was at the gym with D.”

You nod and take a look around the room, noticing that you’re the only woman. Since your brother is here, you’re not worried, but it does feel suffocating. Is this how it’s always going to be from now on?

“How you doin’, Angel,” a deep voice says on your right, and your demeanor brightens when you glance over to see Namjoon pulling out the chair next to you.

“Oh, hey, Moon! Aren’t you sick of me by now?” You tease as he sits down, heart blipping at the beautiful smile on his face. You’ve been working with him these past couple of months, Namjoon preparing and training you for your role at the casino. Extremely intelligent and well-versed, he’s not your brother’s right-hand man for no reason. He knows all of the Crow’s business dealings like the back of his hand, and you feel confident having someone like him to guide you. That paired with his easy-going and wholesome persona, and the fact that you could chat with him about books and music for hours, you can’t deny your itty bitty crush on him. If only you weren’t engaged and he didn’t have a girlfriend. At least one of you is in a happy relationship.

“Of you? Never.” You ignore the mild warmth in your cheeks and playfully nudge him with your elbow. Damn him and his natural charisma.

“So, are you ready for next week?” Ugh. You don’t like the anchor of dread that sinks in your gut at the thought of finally becoming an official member of the family business.

“No,” you mumble because there’s no reason to lie to Namjoon.

“Oh, come on. Yes, you are.” Your palms start to sweat and you put the menu down so as to not ruin it.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready,” you say quietly, stealing a glance at Jin to make sure he’s not listening, glad he’s too busy accepting a top-off on his drink.

“You have a mentor as amazing and smart as me, you’re more than ready.” You roll your eyes at his cheeky grin.

“You’ve been hanging around Jin too much,” you mutter and he laughs.

“Well, just know that no matter what, I’ll be right there with you so you don’t have to worry.” That fact makes you breathe a little easier, but there’s still a layer of anxiety underneath your skin. Just then, a slender, vaguely familiar man walks in and heads straight for Jin who does a double take, immediately holding out a welcoming handshake that lingers a little too long once the man accepts.

“Who’s that?”

“Jung,” Namjoon answers with a single glance. You hold up your menu to hide your face as you whisper,

“Agent Jung?” He nods and turns his cheek to utter another reminder.

“Just be careful where you say that.”

Right. You never know who could be listening, so it’s probably not a good idea to mention the man’s real identity in all this. The CIA agent posing as an informant, but really he’s in cahoots with your brothers, covering up their dirty tracks with the occasional bribe of public officials.

“He goes by Hope, but close friends call him Hobi. You could probably get away with calling him that.”

“What’s he doing here?” You can’t help but watch closely the way your brother engages with Hope. His body language is rigid and fidgety, like he’s nervous, but his eyes are soft and wide. Small indications that there’s definitely something going on between the two of them and you’re excited to gossip about it with Jungkook. Because you know all too well how good Jin is at lying.

“Well, your brother wanted you both to be acquainted because the feds might take an interest in you once you take over the casino. He’ll come back to work undercover again if that happens.”

You still as realization takes over, muscles in your face hardening as your heart does a somersault.

“Is that the big secret?”

“What?”

“They’ve been keeping something from me.”

“Um, I’m- I don’t know,” he says in an uneven cadence, and, looking over at him, you notice a slight purse of his lips and realize he’s a terrible liar.

You just got here, but you already need a breather. The cigar smoke isn’t helping either, so you excuse yourself to the bathroom to get some fresh air.

As you rise, Yeong habitually appears next to you, but you place a soft hand on his shoulder, shaking your head to tell him it’s not necessary to escort you out. You internally scream when he looks over at your brother, as if needing his permission to let you go without accompaniment. Jin waves two fingers with a nod, silently dismissing Yeong’s duty and you try not to let that small interaction visibly bother you as you turn away from the table.

The bathroom is empty, thank god, but now you just feel isolated. Especially when you pull out your phone, eager to call up one of your friends and vent, but even if they might pick up despite being on another part of the hemisphere, there’s no way you could tell them anything.

You blink and a face you haven’t seen in a long time spawns in the forefront of your mind, heart sinking when you know he would be the one to call at a time like this but you haven’t spoken to him in years. Not since he had a falling out with your brother and left town shortly after without a word, cutting you deep because you thought you were more important to him than that. Even though it broke your heart, you understood why he left the way he did. You just sometimes wish he could’ve taken you with him.

With no one to call and nowhere else to go, you finish up in the bathroom with a deep breath and a practiced smile in the mirror, rolling your eyes at yourself and heading for the door with a huff at how fake you look.

When you emerge, your attention is buried in your phone, and you end up bumping into someone in the hallway.

“Oh, sorry,” you blurt, feeling two hands hover on your shoulders when you stumble back from being caught off guard. You don’t look up right away, gauging from the black fitted suit and long trench coat that this is one of your brother’s men.

“No, my fault,” he says and the gravelly timbre in his voice tickles a part of your brain. Normally you’re good at reading people, sometimes from just their aura, but there’s something about him that you can’t quite place. So you keep your head down.

“Excuse me, ma’am.”

Ma’am? Yeah, he definitely works for your brothers. Everyone who knows who they are, calls them ‘boss’ or ‘sir’ and as their sister, you deserve the same title and respect that comes with it. Another thing you’ll have to get used to. But it still fills you with an odd feeling that you don’t really like, and you excuse yourself, not waiting for him to step out of the way so you can head back to the dining room. As you pass him, you catch the earthy musk of his cologne mixed with underlying traces of mint and something woody and it makes you involuntarily look over your shoulder to see what kind of man wears such a scent, only to find that he’s not there. He disappeared just as quietly as he’d approached.

Back in the room, you smile upon seeing Jungkook sitting to the right of your brother, and you can’t help but go up behind him, playfully smack the back of his head with your clutch, and sit beside him like nothing happened.

“You took my seat,” you say, feeling his glare on you.

“Children,” Jin grits through a smile just as Jungkook opens his mouth to argue. “Let’s not do this in front of company.”

Jungkook huffs in annoyance and opts to pinch your leg under the table, and you hold back a squeal, not daring to retaliate when Jin glares at the two of you over the brim of his glass.

As you turn your attention to the menu, you notice in your periphery Jungkook looking over his left shoulder, lifting his hand to someone behind him. When you look back as well, your heart palpitates at the sight of a tall, lithe man with black hair that reaches his neck, slicked behind his ears, and eyes hidden by tinted shades striding towards the table.

“Hey, D,” Jin says to the man as he steps up next to him. “Good to see you.”

So, this is the infamous D.

“Boss,” he acknowledges, and turns to Jungkook to tap his bicep with the back of his hand. “Sorry I brought him late.”

“No worries, you’re just in time to order. Take a seat.” D nods and you watch him slightly lift his chin over Jungkook’s head, no doubt taking a glance at you that lasts a mere second before moving to walk behind your brother and consequently you. Time seems to freeze as he starts to pass you, and although you can’t see his eyes, you feel them lock on you, and your heart does gymnastics before stopping completely.

No way. No fucking way. The man who stands above you can’t be the same man who you shared a night with, years ago. A night that creeps back into your memory after you think you’ve forgotten. And a face that haunts your dreams and makes you miss something you never really had. At least, not long enough to count for something.

As he passes, you catch the smell of the cologne that matches exactly to the scent of the man you bumped into in the hallway. Nausea creeps up from the pit of your stomach and you quickly look away, but to your absolute horror, your brother stops him in his tracks right beside you.

“Oh, D. Meet our sister, Angel.” On your right, he swivels on his heel and your breath catches in your throat when he tips towards you in a respectful bow.

“Good to meet you.” He holds out his hand to offer a kind greeting, but it only makes you sick. You swallow thickly, wanting nothing more than to ignore his offering, but you know you can’t purposely be rude, especially not in front of Jin. You have to be polite to him, no matter how much it might kill you, because you can’t let your brothers catch onto something that shouldn’t be there. And after years of playing poker, you’ve learned how to perfect hiding how you really feel. For the most part.

So, swallowing your rage, you muster the courage to turn in your seat to face him, plastering on the fakest smile you can manage and reach out to roughly grab his hand, breath catching in your lungs at the lightning you feel at his warm, soft but slightly calloused touch because you remember them so, so well.

Sometimes in your loneliest, darkest moments, you close your eyes and conjure up the memories of the way those hands once ran over every inch of your body, just like those lips, those eyes, and other parts of him that graced you and lit up your skin, sunk into your bones in a way that made you ache. And that ache lasted, in your heart, in your gut, in between your legs ever since that morning when you woke up expecting to see him next to you, only to find cold and empty sheets. Like he was never there. And you found yourself wishing you could rip out the ghost of his touch from beneath your skin, but it was practically etched into your soul, like it was meant to be there forever.

“Pleasure,” you say through a sickly-sweet smile, wishing you could see beyond his shades for any sign that he knows who you are, or if he’s just forgotten you. It has been three years after all. You catch a light, but noticeable scar slashed vertically on his right eye, partially hidden by his dark glasses. Your heart pangs when you don’t remember that being there the last time you saw him, but he hurt you, intensely, and now he’s acting like he doesn’t know you so fuck him. The sight of that scar compels you to look down at his hand clasped in yours and, in a flash, turn it sideways so you can see the diagonal gash that starts at his knuckles and ends by his wrist, which you do remember. You let go of his hand as if it scalded you and turn your attention back to the table, your mind and pulse racing at this feeling of yet another situation being out of your control. You want to tell your brothers right now about everything, get him off your back and out of your life, but knowing what consequences he would face stops you. He’s lucky Jungkook considers him a friend. Because otherwise, you’d have him thrown into the bottom of the Han river.

Jin calls for rounds of wine and whiskey as the group of men engage in small talk, and you appreciate your brothers who include you as much as possible. You hear conversations of Jin asking Namjoon how it’s going with your onboarding for the casino, and you do your best to contribute, but it’s hard to do it through the static going on in your head that you can’t quell, brought on by the man sitting across the table a few seats down, next to Hope who’s chatting his ear off. He has not looked your way once despite your many stolen and partially involuntary glances, only adding fire to the flame.

Two hours pass for everyone to finish off their meal, drinks, and conversation about work and other things that you tune out. Eventually, Jin starts to hint that he’s ready for the dinner to come to an end, and you sit quietly as he thanks his friends for coming. They all bid their goodbyes and most offer handshakes and arm taps as they wish him well. When they turn to go, Jin’s eyes linger on their backs until the next friend comes up.

As you wait for your brother to end the night for you as well, all who’s left is D, Namjoon and Hope, and they move closer to the head of the table once the rest of the room files out. A pit settles in your gut when D sits directly across from you.

Those goddamn shades. You can’t even tell if he’s looking at you.

“Thank you all for staying after,” Jin says after he returns to his chair, knocking back the last of his drink. He gestures to the table. But you speak before he can continue, pretending to check your manicure when Jin looks over, so he doesn't catch the way you were just staring down the man across from you.

“Isn’t it rude to wear sunglasses inside?” You ask your brother. “I thought you were all about respect.”

Jungkook nudges you and whispers behind his hand, “Why are you being a dick?”

You don’t respond, acting as if you didn’t hear him. Because you can’t answer that. Jin sighs and there’s a subtle squint of his eyes at you before he gestures to the man beside him.

“D, if you wouldn’t mind.”

D says nothing (you want to scream that’s not his real name but you’re not sure if your brothers even know that) and raises his hands to remove the sunglasses, expression remaining blank. Once they’re folded and slipped into the inside pocket of his blazer, he finally lifts his bare gaze to you, scar on full display, and your heart slams in your chest. Because those eyes that seem to look right through you, are far too cold and vacant, void of everything that made you once believe you had a shot at something real.

“So, since you’re starting at the casino next week, I want to discuss security. I’m assigning you new detail.” You look at him with a puzzled expression.

“What's wrong with the team there?”

“I'm talking about your personal guard." Your eyebrows furrow. So this is what your brothers have actually been hiding from you.

“Isn’t that Yeong’s job?”

“He doesn’t have enough experience to handle your protection around the clock.” “Around the clock? You’re joking.”

“I’m not."

You huff and cross your arms. “And if I don’t agree?”

“That’s not an option.”

“Fine. Who did you hire to basically stalk me?”

“D will take on as your guard and driver.”

Ha. Haha. This isn’t real. What kind of joke is the universe playing on you? And why are you the punchline?

You turn to Jungkook. “Isn’t he your security?”

“Yes,” Jin answers. “But since you’re going to be dealing with the public and crews and potential feds at the casino, D has the knowledge and experience to help with everything, so he’s being reassigned to you.”

How can it be this fucking coincidental for the man who dug a crack into your soul, filled it with light, and crushed it when he left with no warning become the new head of your security? Complete and utter bullshit.

"Angel,” Jin mutters, urging you to say something.

“Fuck this,” you spit, eyes darting to the man you speak of to see if your words affect him but when he doesn’t give anything away it only makes you angrier.

“I’m not doing it.” You stand up to head for the door, but your brother's loud, bellowing voice puts a halt to your escape.

“Yes, you are. This is not a game; you don’t have a choice.”

Your head spins. This is too much too fast. All of your control and independence is being ripped out right from under you, and you already feel weighed down by it. Seething, you glance between him and his men, and you don’t want it to look like you’re throwing a temper tantrum. You wonder if this is why your brothers chose to tell you here, in front of everyone, testing you to see if you’ll control yourself.

“I already can’t drive myself anymore, and your guards have to be up my ass when I come here. Yeong has to check in with you to make sure I’m allowed to go to the fucking bathroom alone, your dirty cop is gonna pretty much spy on me at work, and now you want this goon to follow me around everywhere?”

“Look, I know you don’t like this, but-” “No, I don’t.”

“But,” he continues sternly, glare on you growing harsher. “I don’t think you realize the calamity of the situation you’re about to be in and I have to take all the necessary precautions to ensure your safety.” “Meaning I have to be fucking babysat?” you spit with vitriol, and Jungkook puts a hand on your elbow in an attempt to pull you down a notch now that Jin’s expression is contorting into one that shows he will not entertain this conversation for much longer as your brother. Being the boss in front of you has never been something he’s wanted you to see, but right now you’re pushing the limits. You don’t care, however, so you rip your arm out of Jungkook’s grip who resigns with a sigh while you keep your fiery stare on your oldest brother where there’s a likeness in his own.

“Don’t speak to me that way, Angel.”

“Don’t treat me like I’m a little kid, Jinnie,” you sneer, using his nickname un-endearingly.

“I told you about not using real names,” he booms, fist falling on the table. You don’t flinch.

“You’re one of us now, you need to start acting like it. And you’re going to start by listening to what I say and showing some respect. Otherwise, we’ll have to have an entirely different conversation, and I really don’t want us to go there.”

You’re not sure what he means by that, but you’d be stupid to fuck around and find out.

“As a woman in this business, you are much more vulnerable and at risk and it’s my job to protect you. That’s just reality. So you need to have security in place, especially by tomorrow. Am I being clear?”

You grind your teeth. “Yes.”

“Thank you.”

“Can I go home now?”

“I’m about to go over the plans for tomorrow. Sit down.”

“Please, I want to go home; I have a lot of things to do. You know I haven’t even unpacked everything yet? I’m practically sleeping in that office.”

You do your best to keep out any expletives, even though you have many to fire off, so you don’t show more disrespect, but your mild lack of control has you muttering under your breath, “No thanks to you.”

Beside you, Jungkook presses his hands together in front of his face like a prayer while Jin shakes his head, eyes closing, and rubs a hand over his forehead like you’re giving him a migraine.

“I’ll get you some help, I’ll get whatever you need. But right now, I need you to stay so we can talk everything out because shit is about to get real. Please sit down.”

You do so with extreme reluctance, the concoction of conflicted emotions swirling in your chest making it increasingly difficult to pay attention to any of what he says. As parts of your mind and body drift in and out of your subconscious, you’re startled out of a staring contest with the edge of the table by Jungkook nudging your shoulder. Relaxing your jaw that was painfully clenched, you lift your head to notice that all eyes are on you, minus one particular pair.

“Sorry, what?”

Jin sighs and gestures to the other side of the table. “Hope was asking if you’d be willing to meet with him in a couple of weeks to check if you have any problems to report.”

“Sure, whatever. I mean, I don’t have a choice either way, right?” you mutter, throwing your brother's words back in his face. You feel Jin’s eyes burning a hole in the side of your face and you know you’ll get an earful from him later.

You glance over to see Hope looking at you with a half-smile and there’s a bit of guilt at how you just came across. You really want to disappear.

“Is that all? May I be excused now?” you ask Jin tersely. He rubs a hand over his mouth like he’s preventing himself from further calling you out. Keeping his stare locked with yours, he raises a dismissive hand.

“D, can you escort her down to the garage? Mr. Han will drive her home.” You close your eyes in relief. “And exchange information on the way; you’ll be picking her up tomorrow evening.”

“Yes, boss.”

You turn around before he stands up, making a beeline for the door because you’re boiling up like a tea kettle. The room seems to be chasing you, closing in on you, like a hand around your throat that you can’t fight off. By the hairs raised on the back of your neck, you can tell he’s coming up behind you so you pick up the pace, jamming your finger into the down button on the elevator. You silently thank it when it only takes a few seconds to arrive, the one thing on your side tonight, so that you can step in before he reaches you. You rapidly press the close button, your eyes narrowed in the harshest glare at his face as he sticks out his hand but he’s too late, the doors rumble shut, sealing him out.

Alone in the elevator, there’s so much going through your mind that it hurts to think. So many emotions and feelings are swirling in your chest that you have no idea where to start to pick apart and process. All you know is that you want to get as far away from him as possible. How the tables have turned.

It’s freezing down in the garage, and Mr. Han has yet to arrive, much to your chagrin. The bubbling beneath the surface of your skin grows to a rage when you hear leather shoes pad onto the concrete.

“Angel-”

Oh, hell no! He doesn’t get to be casual. He doesn’t get to say your name. It’s not your real one, but it was real to him.

You twist around. “Don’t be informal."

Expression unchanged, he apologizes and corrects himself then steps forward with a hand held out, carrying your coat that you forgot upstairs.

You give it a side glance and snatch it away, tucking it under your crossed arms, because you prefer to be stubborn and cold. You refuse to face him, even when he clears his throat and takes another step towards you.

“Let me give you my number,” he says, reaching into his inside pocket to pull out his phone. An indignant laugh bubbles in your throat, too painful to let out.

Now… Now you get his number?? This is the universe laughing at you right in your face. You say nothing, not even acknowledging what he said, as if you didn’t hear him at all.

You just stare at the curb, desperately waiting for Mr. Han to pull up and take you away. In this moment, he’s your only friend in the world.

Seconds go by, and the man beside you reaches back into his jacket, trading his phone for… a pen? He then plucks out the white handkerchief folded neatly in his chest pocket, spreads it on his palm, and flicks the pen over it before passing it to you.

You stare at the handkerchief, at the numbers messily stained on the fabric, and crumple it in your hand, balling it into a tight fist.

Acting on autopilot with a question that’s been spinning around your mind since you shook his hand at dinner, you whip around to face him, faltering slightly when he’s closer than you realized.

“Did you know?” you snap. “This whole time. Did you know about me?”

His face remains emotionless and even though he’s not wearing his shades, you can't see any kind of reaction in his eyes.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

Oh. So he wants to play games. And he’s a fucking coward.

"Then let’s get one thing clear,” you grit, holding up your pointer finger. “If you think I'm gonna be nice to you, think again. And since you couldn’t give a shit about me, don't pretend to be nice either."

You get right in his face, but he doesn’t react or move away, and you wonder what it would take for him to stand down.

“Cross me in any way, I’ll tell my brothers who you really are.”

You stare, unblinkingly, in his eyes, searching, waiting for any sign that he’s the least bit intimidated by your threat. But there’s nothing. Just blank, soulless eyes. And to think they once set your heart on fire. Now they’ve turned it to ash.

How you ever fell for them, you’ll never know.

Clearly, you’re a fool.

“We’ll see how long you last, Min Yoongi.”

When you get home, you decline all calls from your brothers and march into your room, not bothering to change, and dig through all of your unpacked boxes searching for an old plastic bag containing a hoodie and a chain that you’ve been carrying around with you for years but you don’t know why. You find Jungkook’s knife, but not the bag and now you’re left with the aftermath of a tornado on your bedroom floor. You spend all night putting everything in its place until the sun rises and your mind is numb, anything to ignore the swarm of angry wasps buzzing in your head because the man you’ve been trying so long to forget just somehow stuck himself in your life, like a knife in your chest.

For the rest of the day, you throw yourself back into the plethora of files you’ve poured over with Namjoon for what seems like hundreds of times. You go through all the budgets, contracts, blueprints, and black books until time bleeds into the late afternoon. But you can’t rest, for those harsh, dark eyes will come back to haunt you in your dreams. You’ll have flashbacks of that night, of him and it will only cause your chest to collapse into a black hole and swallow every last drop of color in your soul.

Jay saunters into the foyer, wolf-whistling upon seeing you and an unsettling feeling takes over when he walks up to you.

“Well, aren’t you just a dream come true?” he muses, shamelessly checking you out and you shoot him a fake smile.

“Thank you,” you say politely, borderline sarcastic, and focus your attention on your reflection in the mirror as you fix your hair and earrings, putting your best poker face on now that your fiancé is standing a few feet away.

“You’re having dinner with your brothers again?” “No, we’re meeting with the commission tonight.”

“Ah. Scary,” he says, a teasing smile on his face. You have a feeling that he actually thinks that, hence why he hasn’t offered up an opportunity to show you off, even though the commission consists entirely of men.

“Will you be alright?”

You don’t know how many times you’ve internally rolled your eyes since you’ve met him. Do you have ‘I’m helpless’ tattooed on your forehead or something?

“Yep. I shouldn’t be out too late.”

“Then I won’t wait up for you.” His tone is light like he’s still making jokes but you are in no joking mood so you bite your tongue. You weren’t expecting him to, nor would you want him to do that. Your phone pings and a rush of heat floods you when you know who it is, announcing his arrival.

“Okay. I think my ride’s here, so I’m gonna head out.”

“Let me walk you.” You want to argue that it’s not necessary, the less time spent interacting with him, the better.

Play nice, Angel, Jin's voice rings in your head. Play nice.

So, you let him accompany you down the hall, help you on with your coat, and open the door for you that you politely thank him for.

In the driveway, a waxed black palisade with tinted windows is parked parallel to the main entrance, exhaust running, and your nostrils flare when you see Min Yoongi - oh, excuse you, D - standing next to the passenger's side, waiting for you with his hands clasped.

“Who’s that?”

“The security my brothers hired,” you say nonchalantly, even though there’s a burning rage in your chest.

“Huh. I thought you had an older driver.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t have any security experience, so.” You notice that your fiancé seems to be somehow bothered by that information, but you don’t press it because you really don’t fucking care.

“Well, have a good-” But he interrupts you, tearing his attention away from the car you’re dreading having to ride in.

“So, my dad wants us to have dinner with them. Maybe you can make some time next weekend? He’ll want to know how things are going at the casino.”

Oh, god. That is the last thing you want to do. Jay’s parents are extremely conservative and traditional, and you can’t imagine what they’ll have to say to you now that you’re living with their son. But again, you have to play nice.

“Sure, I’ll let you know my schedule.”

“Sounds good,” he nods and just as you start to turn, he grabs your hand, the one with the oversized diamond sitting on your ring finger, his head quickly moving from the driveway to lean in and kiss right on the jewel and it makes you feel a bit icky.

“I’ll see you later,” he says from your knuckles with a noticeable grin. You plaster on a tight smile and subtly retract your hand.

“Have a good night.” He nods and lets you go, watching as you make your way down the marble stairs. You think to yourself this would be the time you might appreciate his help, considering you’re in heels and it’s freezing outside. But you don’t really want him to touch you again so you rely on the railing.

“Take care of my fiancée for me!” Jay calls out as you make it off the porch. Your eyes roll back so far in your head you have to close them and walk blindly for a few seconds. As you approach the car, you keep your head down, refusing to see how D responds to that. Although you don’t think he would, since he’s given you no indication that he even has emotions anymore as of yet.

From one man that pisses you off to the next. To say you're fuming would be an understatement.

Wearing a sleek black suit, a long winter coat to match, and, since it’s still light out, those dark sunglasses, he bows to you in greeting before opening the door, gesturing for you to get in.

"Good evening," he says as you approach, and you don’t reply, don't even look at him. You hate him, you really do, so why is it that his dark, quiet yet thunderous voice makes your heart skip a beat?

You feel his gaze on you as you reach for the back door, completely ignoring him, and slide into the warm car, slamming the door shut before scooting to sit behind the driver's side. You don’t want to be tempted to look at him in the rear-view mirror.

The passenger door closes and you whip out your phone, refusing to stare at the man swiftly striding around the front of the car. As he does, you wonder why the fuck he thought you would want to sit next to him. You’ve never felt comfortable treating your drivers like chauffeurs but this driver is a special case and you hope that he’s gotten the message.

When he gets in and shuts out the cold, you're suddenly overwhelmed by the loud, attractive scent of his cologne and aftershave, a certain musk and mint to it that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head for a split second. Fuck, he smells good, even with a hint of a cigarette. And expensive. You can only imagine the type of salary your brothers smuggle into his wallet, especially now that your safety is his sole responsibility. Protection like that doesn’t come cheap.

You dare him to say anything else, so you get out your case of earbuds with the intention to blast music and drown him out. But before you can shove them in, a stack of manila folders hangs in front of your face, held by long, thin fingers decorated by chunky silver rings, and for a second you want to ask him what the fuck he’s doing, triggered by the fact that you’re so fucking over looking through files, even more so for him to be dumping more on you.

“What’s this?” you grumble, teeth clenching as you reluctantly accept the folders and draw them into your lap.

“Your brother wanted me to find you an assistant, so these are five candidates,” he explains, voice slightly muffled by the engine and from speaking to the windshield. “Take your pick and I’ll set up an interview.”

You can’t help your genuine surprise as you look over the spread he handed you, each file neatly organized with resumes, backgrounds, references and head shots. You wish he fucked something up so you'd have an excuse to call him incompetent, but he did his homework. And if he got all of this together since last night, then he’s more diligent than you want to give him credit for.

You swallow a scoff. "I'm allowed to choose? I didn't think I got a say.”

"If you didn't, I wouldn't be giving you options."

"Are you sure?” You snark, face buried in the files. “I know you answer to my brother, and you wouldn't want to get in any trouble."

A beat passes. "He's not my boss. You are."

Well. That is... the last thing you thought he would say. And you never would've considered yourself his boss.

Oh. You're going to have fun with this.

“These are all men,” you scowl after you flip through all of the resumes.

Yeah, just what you need.

You lean forward to toss the files on the passenger's seat, papers scattering onto the floor. Your instincts urge you to apologize and offer to clean up the mess, but your pride has you sitting back with your arms crossed, looking out of the tinted window indifferently.

“You could’ve saved yourself a lot of trouble if you’d just asked me what I was looking for. But I guess you don’t really care what I want, do you?”

You spare a glance into the rearview mirror, the top half of his face clearly visible, but… you still can’t tell if he’s looking at you. You don’t wait for a response, not thinking there’s anything he could say anyway, and let your earbuds do the job of shutting him out.

It isn’t until you’re halfway to your destination that you realize you didn’t text him at all until an hour before you had to leave, so how could he have contacted you before that? That’s beside the point.

He should know what you’re really throwing in his face.

The car barely pulls to a stop in front of the warehouse when a small group of guards swarm around to flank the doors. Taking out your earbuds, you stare out of the tinted windows at the suited men looking all around to make sure you’re in the clear. You feel anything but assured.

One guard is standing right in front of the door, essentially blocking you inside, and D gets out, apparently needing to be the one to open it for you and assist in your exit.

The air is crisp and cold when your heels hit the gravel, and you don’t miss the way D’s palm flips up as you start to stand, playing it off when you intentionally ignore the gesture by lifting his wrist to his mouth to speak into the mic connected to his earpiece that runs under his sleeve.

You shiver when you step out and D shuts the door, holding an arm out to signal you to walk forward, pressing a finger into his earpiece. The guards fall into formation around you, one in front, one on either side, and D right behind you. This level of protection feels a bit too much as they escort you into the maze of shipping containers, you aren’t the president or some A-list celebrity, but you’re about to walk into a den of wolves, so you can’t go without a pack of your own.

They lead you through the arid warehouse, filled with shelves of boxes ready to ship out on the harbor, some legal, most illicit. In the very back is a steel door, and the leading guard opens it, takes a look down in the stairwell, and beckons you forward. You step into the hallway and catch a glimpse of the emergency exit, door wedged open by a… silver cigarette case? That looks very much like the one you saw your brother slip out of his coat the other morning and sneak outside before Jin came down for breakfast. You head for it and a guard puts a hand out to stop you, but you push past him, D calls for you, but you pay no attention and pop open the door, hesitating when Jungkook flinches and whips back his jacket, hand reaching for something in his waistband.

“Jesus, Angel,” he grumbles, letting go of his jacket to cover the handle of his gun, and takes a heavy drag of the cigarette. You bend down to pick up his silver case and the door doesn’t close and you don’t doubt that D is the one holding it open.

“Relax, it’s just lil ole me,” you say, eyebrow raising when he shoots a glare your way. "What's up, bro?"

“What was last night about?" he asks, a hot start. He leans over to snatch the case out of your hands.

“Hey!”

"Are you done being an asshole? You were pretty rude to hyung last night. And D and Hope.” His tone is testy as smoke pours from his lips.

Crossing your arms, you prop yourself on the wall with a huff and an eyeroll.

“Well, that depends. Are you done keeping things from me?” He sighs and scratches the wrinkle between his brows with his thumbnail.

“We knew you wouldn’t like it, so that’s why we waited to tell you.” “What about any of this do you think that I like?” You blurt in a raised voice that gets lost in the frigid breeze. He stares at you for a moment before looking away to take a drag, a tick in his jaw. You aren’t being fair, you know. Your brother is in the exact same boat. Neither of you signed up for this, but at least he wasn’t thrown into the fire at the last minute with little to no time to process anything. And his life isn't being guarded by someone who broke his heart.

"You can't be that way in there."

“I know. I'm sorry,” you try to recover. “It’s just-” As you stare out at the run-down docks, you can’t think of a way to explain what you’re sorry for. Instead, you swivel to face him and step up with a beckoning hand in the air.

“Can I have one?” Flicking ash on the brick, his expression changes to level you with a hesitant look.

“Since when do you smoke?” You don’t really anymore as you’ve come to hate the taste and the smell, but the kind of cigarettes that your brother buys isn’t as pungent and disgusting. Sometimes a little nicotine helps to take the edge off. And you’re very much on edge lately.

“Since I found out I’m about to become a criminal.”

He rolls his eyes. “What do you mean ‘about to’? Haven’t you been arrested before?”

“Not recently!” you exclaim. He’s one to talk! “And besides, that was for petty theft and I wasn’t even charged.”

“Don’t forget the time you spent a night in jail when you got caught speed racing. Hyung was so pissed he had to fly all the way out there to bail your dumb ass out.” Jungkook tilts forward, crossing his ankles as he chuckles out a puff of smoke.

“Well, it’s your fault I even know how to race.” He opens his mouth to argue but you shut him down. “Do you want me to go ahead and list out your rap sheet too? We would be here all night.”

“Go to hell.” You laugh at his disgruntled scowl.

“I’ll meet you there. Give me your lighter or I’ll tell Jin you started smoking again.”

He shakes his head, both of you knowing damn well that Jin would not approve of the two of you chain smoking.

“Don’t be a tattletale.”

“Don’t be a hypocrite.”

“No,” he grumbles. “You shouldn’t be smoking.”

“You shouldn’t either!”

“I know. I’m quitting soon and I'm not about to let you start.”

With a reluctant huff, you lean back against the wall, watching smoke billow out into the night sky. The both of you shiver in silence. It’s quiet out here, save for the sounds of a ship horn blaring in the distance, and the wind whistling into the alley from the docks that carries the smells of bay water and the old rotting wood of the piers. Scents like these usually bring a sense of calm into your soul, but tonight, anxiety overrides them all. You doubt even nicotine could do anything to ease the disquietude in your head.

“I’m scared,” you confess. You glance over to see him staring down at nothing in particular, not blinking as he smokes and you want him to tell you that he is too, but he’s in no position to be. Not anymore. It used to show in his jaw, in between his brows, the rapid blinking of his eyes, but there’s none of that now. Looking at him now, gone is the boy you grew up with. And you know that’s because of how hard he worked to rid himself of all that fear, just like Jin, and what you have to do too.

“There’s no reason to be.” You look away with a frown, clearly not what you needed to hear, but his hand on your shoulder forces you to turn back.

“Listen. No one can do anything to us once they find out who we are.” You shrug off his hand. He takes a drag and blows it away from your face.

“Who’s to say they won’t?”

“Me. After tonight, I own this city and everything that belongs to us. That includes you, Angel. We’re not the ones who should be afraid.”

“Boss, it’s time to go.” You glance over your shoulder where a single, flickering light above the door shines down on D’s head as he holds it open with a flattened hand. You turn back to your brother as he sucks in a final drag before dropping the butt and squishing it under his heel. Exhaling smoke up to the sky, he hooks an arm around your shoulder and begins walking you to the door, not letting you fight your way out of his hold.

“We got this, sis.” You roughly push him and he finally lets go, clicking your tongue when he laughs at your glare.

“You do,” you mutter, straightening out your coat and smoothing down your shirt. Nervous habits. He stops and grabs your elbow.

“It’s us now. We’re in this together, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe through a scared smile.

You keep your head up as you walk past D who slides against the door to put distance between you, yet still close enough to catch another whiff of his cologne. One breath and you’re aggravated that it’s him, another breath and the scent filters into your senses, leaving an undeniable calm.

Back inside, Jungkook claps a hand on D’s shoulder as the guards return to their formation to lead you down the stairs and into the den. Before you enter, you can tell just how crowded it is from the sounds of chatter and laughter that drips exorbitant wealth, and the accompanying stench of thick illegal cigars that makes your nose itch.

Jungkook walks around you to be the first one in the room and a wave of anxiety skids your heels to a stop. A presence that you’re coming to know all too well looms behind you, like he’s your shadow. More like a demon. Your eyes close to quell the drum pounding in your chest.

“After you,” he mutters, the sinful thunder in his voice mere inches away from your ear sending a shiver down your spine. Your eyes fly open and feet move on their own accord to get away from it.

Fuck. That.

The ringing in your ears that stems from his voice and low-spoken words rumbling in a loop through your mind aids you in your ability to shut out the room and the way it quiets down as you walk to the head of the table where your brothers stand in wait for you. The rest of the men are also already standing and it just makes their intense, collective stare on you that much more stifling.

You remove your coat and a hand stretches out beside you that you silently allow to take it. Jin gestures for you to sit on his right, across from Jungkook, and waves for the commission to take their seats as well. Behind you, the doors close and one glance to the side shows D getting into place with your brothers guards by the adjacent wall, holding your coat.

With a polite, reserved expression, you take a sweep of the room and observe that these men are an assortment of strange faces and ones you’ve seen in Namjoon’s files. They’re all young and old. Father and son. Leaving you as the outlier. And that causes a lump in your throat.

Jin launches into introducing you and Jungkook, and all you can do is keep your back straight and hands on the table, respectfully paying attention as he explains how now that he’s going on the lam, the family heads will defer to Jungkook, and their crews and associates will report to you for any and all financial endeavors at the casino. As Jin speaks these plans into reality, you finally begin to feel the full pressure and burden of your impending responsibilities.

And this time your brother won't be there to bail you out.

The members offer your end of the table diplomatic nods of acknowledgement and subtle darting eyes between you and Jungkook.

But just as Jin gives Jungkook the floor, a deep, condescending laugh resounds from across the table, belonging to a smug, rugged man wearing thick chains and even thicker rings. All attention snaps to his interruption and your skin crawls when he fixes Jungkook with a leering, patronizing stare.

“I’m sorry, but with all due respect, do you really think your junkie brother can handle being in charge?”

Your eyebrows cross at the audacity. He’s speaking as if Jin is not the reigning top boss of this entire room and Jungkook is not about to step in and fill his shoes. There’s a slur to his words and the near empty decanter next to his glass indicates that he’s imbibed and probably incognizant. Because who in their right mind would dare to provoke the kingpin of the city’s mob syndicate like this.

You look over to Jin, expecting him to call out the man’s blatant disrespect, but both him and Jungkook are staring the man down with darkness and anger that you’ve never seen before. Perhaps they’re just giving him the chance to dig himself into a hole so deep he’ll have to stay there.

“And what about her?” the man with a greasy mustache points at you. You recognize him. “I don’t know if I can trust her capabilities with dealing business at the casino. I mean, what does she know?”

He’s underestimating you and you’re sure he’s not alone in that. Everyone else is just smart enough to keep their mouths shut. You feel the urge to pull your hands into your lap to frown at, but you just lean back in your chair, maintaining a cool expression as you wait for him to spew more of his bullshit.

“Yeah, sure they were born with the purpose of serving your father, but we all know they weren’t raised like you. So how can they possibly be prepared to take over in your place?”

“Because they’re my blood,” Jin finally says, voice steady and reasonable. But his narrowed eyes and blown out pupils tells you he’s anything but.

“Only by half,” he sneers. “Wasn’t their mother some low-life maid?” You feel choked by the mention of your mother and wonder just how much this man and the rest of the commission know about you beyond what they’re entitled to. Your chest squeezes when you catch eyes with Jungkook as he furiously picks at his fingers, probably not realizing he’s even doing it.

“See, that’s where the don went wrong. Choosing a peasant to procreate his back-up heirs with. Their blood doesn’t really count, at least not in my book.” Lee looks around as if to see who else is on his side, but no one takes their attention off of Jin as he rises and digs a hand onto Jungkook’s shoulder.

“He is the don now.”

Lee scoffs. “He’s a junkie! Just like your father.” Your fingers clench into a tight fist, the urge to stand up for your brother sending a violent rush through your veins.

“Watch your fucking mouth, Lee,” Jin growls in a malicious tone. “You’re forgetting your place. Don’t make me remind you.”

“My place,” Lee chuckles bitterly, shaking his head. He picks up his glass and bangs it on the table with a thud. “My place should be at the head of that fucking table with my son, not these little children. We should be the next in line now that you’re resigning!” “I’m not resigning,” Jin barks, fixing the entire room with a dead serious glare. “I’m leaving to avoid prison. Because if I go down, I’m taking everyone with me. Do I make myself fucking clear?”

Jin’s power reverberates off of the walls and it carves away some of your anxiety. He points a stern finger at Lee.

“They are the rightful heirs, just as I am, and I won’t throw away all of what I’ve built just because you don’t accept that.”

“What your father built,” Lee spits in contempt. Jin bends down with a heavy slam of his hands on the wood surface. “What my family built. And what my brother and sister will continue to build because it’s theirs now.” “Do they know that’s the only reason why they were born? Well, him at least.” Your face contorts in confusion when he points at Jungkook. Jin lifts his hands from the table and the tension in the room grows thicker as he stands tall. “Excuse me?” “It’s a fair question. Does she know that when there were rumors that Don Kim had a daughter, he adamantly denied it?”

Your heart pounds in your ears when Lee slides his beady eyes to you, fingernails digging into your sweaty palms.

“You were a mistake, sweetheart,” he lilts with an ugly, crooked grin. “What use would he have with a girl? All you’re good for now is playing trophy wife to appease the son of your father’s biggest investor. You’re just a pawn in his business plan, you have no real value.”

“Lee, that’s enough-” Jin snarls.

“Lee Dong-wook, right?” you starkly interject, staring unwaveringly at him and his rising eyebrow. “Didn’t you lose your business in the east harbors when you failed to keep quota and you couldn’t control disputes between the local gangs? I can’t remember exactly how much money and how many men you cost my brothers but I know it was a lot.”

Lee’s jaw drops, rendered speechless. A raging vein begins to bulge on the side of his forehead, turning his face beet red now that you’re doing the job of tearing him down from his high horse.

“But at least you still have this side of the harbor so you can trade paraphernalia with other parts of the coast. Like these.” You reach forward for a box of cigars in front of Jungkook, only to find it empty. To your surprise and everyone else's, you stand and move to pass behind your brothers, ignoring Jin’s hushed, “What are you doing?” as you walk over to Lee, hoping to exert some intimidation by standing your ground over him. You try to disregard the fact that he is twice your size and far more muscular but Jungkook’s words from earlier remind you that no one can hurt you now. The shadow that follows you will ensure that.

You spot another cigar box next to Lee and another older man, and no one says anything as you lean in between them to take one out, snatching up one of the lighters as well. Holding up the cigar beneath your nose, you inhale the strong flavored mix of coffee and leather.

“Hmm, not bad,” you reflect, analyzing the stamped label before you unravel the plastic. “Kind of cheap, but I guess the tobacco isn’t what your customers are actually after. It’s smart, smuggling amphetamines in these. Just ironic that you move rock for a living but have the nerve to call my brother a junkie. I don't doubt you take samples.”

The wrapper you crumple and the lighter you flick open to fire up the cigar become the only sounds in the room. After disposing of the metal and plastic on the table, you place the wrapped leaf between your teeth and brace yourself as you take a smooth drag.

“And you must be stupid if you think I don’t know that my father didn’t want me,” you say, blowing smoke up to the ceiling while you do your best to pretend that the strong hit isn’t scratching the hell out of your throat. You glance back down to Lee whose eyes are on the brink of bulging right out of their sockets.

“But you see, I’m not here for him. I’m here for them,” you point the cigar over your shoulder at Jin and Jungkook.

“You sure they’re not forcing you?” Lee challenges, tongue thick with rage causing specks of saliva to catch on his mustache. Gross. “No one can force me to do anything,” you reply calmly. “I’ll do whatever it takes for my brothers.” A moment passes, and then another, with no response and you think you’ve made your case. But just as you’re about to give up the facade that you’re enjoying this piss-awful cigar, Lee harshly gruffs out, “Would you kill for them, little girl?”

Tilting your head, your mind races as you imagine all the ways you could show him how far you’re willing to go for both of them. A small smile creeps onto the corner of your lips around the cigar.

“Do you want to find out?” His mustache twitches. You blow smoke in its direction. “Are you threatening me?” “You tell me,” you shrug. “If anything, I’d be doing you a favor.”

“Pardon?” You lazily tap the cigar, unphased when the ash falls to the floor, some of it on Lee’s lap, earning a menacing glower.

“It sounds like you have a death wish. Coming in here and disrespecting my brothers even though you can’t do a goddamn thing without their say so. They own you and, now, so do I.”

Lee doesn’t break your stare but by the curl of his fist on the arm of the chair and his cheeks that tinge an even darker red, you’ve severely pissed him off. “You don’t have what it takes to kill me.” Taking that as a challenge, you reach down, lift the hem of your slacks, and snatch out the knife nestled in the strap around your calf. In a flash, you bring your sharp silver blade to the vein on his thick neck, smoke from the cigar dangerously close to his sideburns. “Wanna bet?”

A commotion erupts around you as one of Lee’s men move to defend him at a moment’s notice, weapon threatening to withdraw and your pulse glitches for a second at the potential danger. That is until a figure behind you pushes away Lee’s guard and you know without looking that it’s Jungkook coming to your aid. And next to him is that dark and menacing man smelling of mint and musk and intimidation.

“Well, I bet you’d hate to get killed by a girl. So I’ll save you your dignity.”

Lowering your knife, you lean away but pause when a goading sneer grows on his ugly mug.

“You’re weak. Just like your brother who can’t even man up and take responsibility for the casino because of what happened to his little-” Before he can finish that sentence that would have Jungkook flying off the handle, you stab the burning end of your cigar on the back of his hand, twisting a sear into his skin until he leaps up with a shriek.

“You bitch!” The cigar plants itself on the side of his neck, until your wrist is grabbed and ripped away, tobacco falling to the floor, just like the man who dared to put hands on you. As you’re pulled back by your brother, off to the side is D manhandling Lee’s guard into submission, face pressed into the wall with a gun shoved into the side of his head. Your brothers’ guards surround you and there’s a standoff with Lee’s men, the rest of the room watching on in shock, no one else daring to move lest they get caught in impending crossfire.

“Weapons down, now,” Jin’s terse voice booms. The guns slowly lower but the fierce glares remain pinned on opposite sides.

“Lee. You’re dismissed.” You think that’s code for, I’m not going to kill you in front of my sister. You’re positive if you weren’t present, this night would’ve ended in bloodshed.

“Have fun getting whacked,” you grin devilishly at Lee who can’t decide which burn hurts worse. “I hope your last thought is of my pretty face.”

In brazen stupidity, Lee steps forward but before his foot can even touch the ground, he’s sent flying back with your brother’s fists in his collar. A hand on your elbow tugs you away from the chaos you created, but you can’t look away from it, like it’s a car crash. But D steps in front of you just as you’re dragged to the front of the room by your brother. Your coat is swung around your shoulders and suddenly you’re facing Jin who guides you to the door. D appears right by your side.

“I knew you had it in you, kiddo,” Jin says with a proud glint in his eyes. On the other side of the room, your brother’s guards are doing their best to keep Jungkook and Lee apart as they usher him to the exit.

“D, take her home.”

The backseat of the car is warm on the ride home. Your hands are shaking, surely from the adrenaline. That’s when it hits you, what you just did. Fuck. You’ve never acted that way before, never purposely hurt someone because you didn’t like what they said.

But you liked it. The power you had, the confidence it gave you. And that scares you.

“Are you okay?” D asks tentatively. It’s then that you realize you’ve been crying. You flick a defiant tear from your cheek and wrap your arms tighter around yourself.

“What do you care?” you mumble bitterly. The rest of the drive is spent in silence. If you were sitting up front, you would’ve seen the way his fingers flexed on the steering wheel.

When he pulls up to your house, you quickly get out even though he starts to say something, desperate to be inside, away from him and the cold and everything that happened.

You don’t know why your office has become your safe haven, but you return there and collapse into one of the armchairs, weighed down by tonight, and what’s in store. Not to mention the extra weight added on your chest because of D.

So you cry. You cry until you run out of tears, but you don't think that could stop you with how much you're hurting. That is until you hear a knock on your office door. It startles you, you’ve never expected anyone to check on you, especially not your fiancé. Were you crying so loud that he could hear you all the way across the house? You don't think that much of it, too busy getting a hold of yourself to look presentable before cracking open the door.

His face is overshadowed by the hallway light, and you can't see his eyes that well. You try to hide your swollen, tear-streaked cheeks from him, but he peers over the door with a small yet gentle smile.

"What's wrong? Did things not go well with the commission?”

You quickly wipe away any stray tears, putting on a brave face as you open the door a little further.

"Ah, well. It was just a lot, y’know?” You scramble, because you can't actually tell him what's wrong. Obviously. You don't think you'll ever be able to tell anyone. And you definitely don’t want to admit that you’re being weak.

"I do. Everything will be okay. It'll all take some adjustment." Huh. That's... comforting, coming from him. Like he understands.

"So, I was just in the kitchen, raiding the pantries for some snacks. Would you care to join?"

“Sure. You, uh,” you tug your sleeves over your hands, clenching them with cold fingers. “You couldn’t hear me from all the way out there, right?”

He turns his back to you with a laugh, leading you down the hallway.

“No, but I noticed you came home late and, well, I just wanted to see how things went. But I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk to me.”

“You said you wouldn’t wait up.” “I was joking, but I guess it didn’t land well. You might have to get used to my sense of humor.” That was humor?

Damn. When did you get so mean?

On the island counters in the expansive kitchen, he sets out some bowls and fills them with snacks as you take a seat on one of the tall stools.

“Do you like any of these?” “Sure,” you shrug, reaching for one of the bowls.

“If there’s anything you want, put it on a list and I can send it off to be picked up.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I can do my own shopping. Thanks, though.” You’ll have to text your brothers later to tell them how right you are about him.

“Alright, well let me know if you change your mind. I’m just trying to help out.”

You nod, chewing pensively, and he shakes his head to change the subject.

“Anyway, can you tell me what happened tonight? That made you so upset.”

You carefully retell bits and pieces of the meeting, leaving out the part when you stabbed an old man twice with a cigar. You give him the gist of how the family heads don’t entirely back the idea of you and Jungkook gaining control of the syndicate, to which Jay tells you they’ll have to get over it because you’re just doing your family duty.

For a while, you chat, finding that conversation with your fiance comes a little easier than you thought. You guess you just had to give it a chance. He gives you his support for some of the plans you have for the casino renovations and even offers to take a look at the blueprints. He cracks corny jokes every now and then that you have to force a bit of laughter because sometimes they don’t make sense, but you don’t entirely loathe this whole interaction.

He is very charming; you'll give him that. But you still have a prickly feeling that it’s all just an act to be good to you in order to impress your brothers and get on their good side. And once they’re out of sight, no longer around to look out for you, he’ll show his true colors. Maybe you’re just jaded and bitter.

But you don’t think you should let your guard down just yet.

You won’t make the same mistake again.

lmaoooo originally i was aiming for a 12-14k word count. whoops. but it's finally here! this has been a whirlwind. I've been wanting to get this out for a while but i've been kind of nervous about it. honestly im glad i waited because so many things came together for this part that i didn't have before. sorry for the wait.

xxx - claret

thank you for reading 😊

let me know what you think!!! <333

masterlist

taglist:

@viankiss @taegijns @polarnightmyg @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos

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star-my · 27 days ago

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BTS Fic Recs ☆ Tumblr (iii)

These are all available on tumblr as of April 2024. Some are likely crossposted on ao3 as well.

~Ao3 RECS HERE~ ~Recs (i)~ ~Recs (ii)~

Almost all are complete works, those with “+” after WC are incomplete. Most are BTS x (F!)Reader.

Most of these are Mature or Explicit (usually because of smut) ~ mdni ~ italicized titles rated G or T* ~ Please read responsibly~ ~*I don't believe any of the below fics are rated anything other than M or E, Minors save your time and find other lists :}~

If any authors tagged here wish to be removed/untagged, please lmk!

F2L = friends to lovers ; E2L = enemies to lovers ; FE2L = frenemies to lovers ; R2L = rivals to lovers ; BFB = best friend's brother ; BBF = brother's best friend etc

OT7/Multi

☆ Monster series by @whatifyoulivelikethat | Mafia AU | MYG + JJK | 17k+

☆ Mafia series by @neonlights92 | Mafia AU, Arranged Marriage AU |

Kim Namjoon

☆ Ensnared by @jamaisjoons | F2L Cryptid AU | 17k

☆ Stuttering by @moonlightchildz | Tutor AU, Rapper AU | 11k

☆ Inside my mind by @jimlingss | High School AU, Mind Reader AU | 19k

Kim Seokjin

☆ Birthright by @jimilter | S2L Vampire AU | 18k

Min Yoongi

☆ Sunrises & Liquor series by @aamalaaa | S2F2L Bar AU, 60k

☆ Three tangerines series by @kithtaehyung/@threetangerines, BBF AU | 253k+

☆ Lying that you love me by jeonsjiddies | S2F2L Roommates AU, “Bad Boy” AU | 11k

☆ Dealer series by @borahaerhy | S2L Dealer AU | (ongoing)

☆ Bad cop chronicles by @minisugakoobies | Cop AU, Parent AU | 12k

☆ Poison by @sugaflake | S2L Hookup Pw/oP? | 4k

☆ Seven year itch by @jimlingss | Established Relationship AU | 5k

☆ The early shift series by @hobidreams | E2L Coffee Shop AU, Coworkers AU | 21k

☆ One ring to bind them all, or, just a solitary, cranky demon series by @bts-love-sweat-tears | Demon AU, Arranged Marriage AU, Royal AU | 13k+

Jung Hoseok

☆ The dragon’s princess by @jamaisjoons | Fairytale AU, Dragon AU | 24k

☆ The bodyguard by @sopejinsunflower | Bodyguard AU, Mafia AU | 19k

Park Jimin

☆ The prince’s cinderella syndrome by @jimilter | S2L Uni AU, Fantasy/Supernatural AU | 39k

☆ Headlights by @jeonsjiddies | S2F@L Uni AU, Fboy AU | 15k

Kim Taehyung

☆ Trip by @daechwitatamic | ?2L Camping AU | 22k

☆ Always the bridesmaid by @kookingtae | S2F2L Journalist AU | 34k

Jeon Jungkook

☆ To know you is to love you by @jimilter | S2E2F2L Vampire AU, Supernatural AU | 21k

☆ The sea and the storm by @jamaisjoons | S2F2L Supernatural AU | 20k

☆ Jackrabbit by @jamaisjoons | Uni AU, Hybrid AU | 9k

☆ Ruin you series by @bts-bay-bee | BFF2FWB2L Uni AU | 10k

☆ Mutual by @seokjxnnie | Boss’s Son AU?? | 3k

☆ Cable management series by @19pancakes | S2L | ongoing

☆ Fighter series by @jeon-s-sins | S2F2L Underground Fighter AU | 8k+

☆ Candles & flames series by @taegularities | E2L Royal AU | 100k

☆ Reign series by @nochuobsessed | F2L Royal AU, sort of Arranged Marriage AU | 89k

Werewolf Recs (yeah i went through the phase, sue me)

☆ My Darkness by @missbangtae | Werewolf AU, Uni AU | 10k

☆ Room 109 by @lavishedinjimin | Werewolf AU, Roommates AU | 7k

☆ Scent by @rosesxstories | Werewolf AU, Established Relationship AU | 3k

☆ New beginnings by @gukeobi | E2F2L Werewolf AU | 17k

☆ Knot today by @kinktae | F2L Werewolf AU, Roommates AU | 6k

☆ Claws of carnality series by @jjungkooksthighs | Werewolf AU, Soulmate AU | 93k+

Overall Favourite Authors (If I recc'd all their works like I want to/more than I have, I'd have to make this series even longer >.<)

☆ @1kook‘s masterlist

☆ @jimilter‘s masterlist

happy reading!

#bts fic recs #group: bts #type: fic #this is a lil shorter than the other two but i haven't added anything to it in months and I just want this out of my drafts so here ya go

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 2 months ago

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getting sick of this noise, m | myg, jjk

misfit toys au continuation of intro >> don’t play >> this game >> those graves

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, jungkook x reader

summary: You won, Min Yoongi. Isn't this what you wanted? You ran away from it all and now lose yourself in the forbidden passion of your stepsister's body day and night. Closer to her than ever. Careful now. The monsters that hide in the dark could tear you apart.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; warning! graphic sexual abuse of a minor — please do not read further if you are not comfortable; reader is the victim, mentions of hard drug use; shitty wealthy parents that abuse their adult children in the name of filial piety narcissism; toxic relationships; angst; stepsiblings; intense smut (fem reader, D/s (sub!JK), restraints, forced orgasm, cum eating, f and m-receiving oral, semi-public m-masturbation, edging, cock-and-ball torture (self + received), hair-pulling, nipple play, cumming on reader's face + chest, anal shower sex, choking, fingering, blindfold usage, heavy bruising / scratching, spit kink); non-idol!AU - orange-haired!Yoongi x savage, bad bitch!reader, ft obsessive, security guard!Jeon Jungkook; shifts between Yoongi’s, yours, and JK’s POV

Once again, be warned. This chapter details abuse of a minor, notably sexual as well as physical and mental. Reader is the victim. Although she is aware of how such abuse has warped her psyche, it is apparent that she uses dissociation as a coping mechanism from the worst of it. It is still awful. You are responsible for what you choose to consume. Please do not proceed unless you are in the headspace for monsters that do, sadly, exist in real life.

I do not condone this behavior. For storytelling purposes only.

He sat down on that black leather couch.

Spread his legs for his own comfort. His jacket was tossed to the side, out of the way. The living room was dark. All blinds drawn. Breathe out. He pushed his hair back, getting it out of the way. He set an arm on the back of the couch and raised his head. His skin prickled, warning him.

An icy itch slithered down his spine.

Min Yoongi looked up.

His stepsister smiled, a vicious image, and then she let her black lace dress slip down her body to step out of it.

He knew there was wrong in this world and Yoongi knew he was part of it. There was better than him. There was worse than him. Hell, his closest family was the epitome of the worst. He was definitely one of the wrong ones, by blood and by the path he had chosen to take. He had always been a runner, an escape artist, a bad son. He didn’t give a shit. The definition of insanity was doing something over and over again expecting a different result. Why continue being frustrated with something he couldn’t change? Why continue being berated and beaten repeatedly for not copying his father’s obscene behavior?

Why not do one better and take the one his father wanted most, over and over again?

Yoongi lifted two fingers ad curled them inward, beckoning his stepsister to him.

Life was about getting there.

This was true from the very beginning. You did what you had to do to keep living. It did not matter how you felt about it, and you did what you had to do so often that you forgot to feel something about it. Run. Hide. Cry. Be humiliated. These actions became second nature. The more you did them, the more detached you became. And so you did what you needed to do and felt nothing, just to retrieve your mother’s unconscious body back from whatever she had put herself though. That was the game. She counted on your part in the game. You fulfilled it. She rewarded with trinkets, a little treat, or something equally meaningless that meant everything to an impressionable child. Back then, it was easy. It was easy not to know better. It was easy to be a deceitful heart when nothing was wrong. Like your mother said, nothing could be wrong when you were born to play.

It had to become a game for it to be bearable.

You played the game.

What your mother didn’t count on was you becoming a slut to gain your own freedom. After teaching you to trust no one, she really thought she could make you dependent on the fragile bond of mother and daughter. After all, it was you and dear mother against the world, right? She never thought you would have the guts to make your own terms. Never thought you too could manipulate the people around you.

She wasn’t sober enough half of the time to stop you either.

The world around you was so, so fucked up and dear mother was the one to throw you to the wolves.

At some point, you had your revelation.

The first one was a son of some old guy.

Definitely older than you. Definitely should not be touching you. Didn’t want to either because he was repulsed by pussy. He did what he had to do so his dad wouldn’t know. You happened to be the easiest target in his line of vision. He had cornered you to do the deed, but was too terrified and too limp to do anything. You had been prepared to fight, steak knife behind your back, but the man ended up breaking down and crying. A first. Saying all kinds of things that you didn’t really understand, such as I can’t do this anymore and I have to and I’m sorry, they can’t know, who knows what, and you were looking down at him wondering how someone could have so much money and not be entirely selfish.

“Why don’t you?”

It was like a light bulb turned on in that vacant little brain.

Tear-stained face of a cowering naked creature under your narrow, barely-clothed body. He was bigger than you but, in this moment, he was small in the grandeur of your delicate, adamant defiance. You held up the knife, observing the way the low light gleamed off the blade, knowing you would have used it without hesitation. There was no fear in the desire for survival. You had tilted your head.

And you had felt it.

Power.

“W… W-What?”

You had smiled.

“You can keep a secret, right? Let’s make a secret.”

Your mother had no idea at the time that you were the one to provide the leverage she needed to leave that marriage. She just thought she had gotten lucky stumbling on her stepson in the middle of a gay orgy. Alimony and a quiet split as long as the shameful truth wasn’t revealed to the public. It had taken some time, but not as much as you had originally thought. You had simply copied what she did – created an addiction. Eventually, the addict went out of control. So what if you had to sleep with a few people? So what if you had created a cultish circle of rich kids fucking each other to get the curiosity started? It got you out of the house, away from hungrier eyes always straying from your mother.

Dumb bitch.

“It’s not so bad.”

A couple of men later. This one had been younger than your mother. Cutting lines of white right in front of you. Your mother was passed out. You weren’t worried. She wasn’t that pale. The man had offered you some but oddly accepted your declining. He did not accept you leaving his lap and his half-hard dick though. He snorted a narrow strip of few centimeters and sniffed hard.

“I bet you think all this sucks, doncha?” His satoori and drug habit had corroded his voice. His other hand was on your thigh. He squeezed. “But it isn’t so bad. I see you. You’re different. You’re not all here. And I bet you think people like me are dumb as rocks.” He tapped the side of his head, his pupils expanding like black holes. “But I ain’t dumb. I know your mother is here for money. That’s fine. I like dumb bitches who like getting face-fucked and think they’re making money by playing nice. She’d be making a lot more if she actually became a hooker. But you. I see it in your eyes.”

You had shrugged.

“Heh. I knew it. I knew you weren’t just a dumb little girl. Tell you what. I like you.”

You had stared at him. He offered you an obscene amount of money to suck his dick. But not only money. A safe box at the bank with your own key. It would take years for you to legally have your own assets. It was pointless to give you money that your mother still had access to. He promised to keep the key and give it to you when you came of age.

“I don’t trust you.”

He had grinned.

It was manic.

“Okay. Then you choose how I get off.”

You had frowned. You would always remember his face. Inviting. Sickly. Unfocused and ravenous like a hyena. His pupils had looked as if they were swallowing his irises. Ironically, his dark hair had been bleached, but the strands were turning a sickly orange due to poor upkeep. He would have been handsome if it wasn’t for the drug habit.

You also remembered how impressed you were at how he had played his game.

Then put your palm on his still-hard dick, leaning your weight on it. Gripped hard, as hard as your smaller hand could, crushing his balls into the seat, watching his features contort in pain.

And glee.

“You’re a liar,” you had said slowly, confirming it by digging your blunt nails inward. “You don’t like dumb bitches.”

He had been telling the truth about giving up a whole lot of money for what only you could give.

Jeon Jungkook was a security guard for a gentlemen’s club.

He also had a particular obsession with his boss. Not the old Master. Fuck no. The young Master, her daughter. And, although he doubted the feeling was mutual, they now shared a secret. It had to be intentional. She would do no such thing without purpose. Whether that purpose was in his best interest remained to be seen, but Jungkook didn’t really care. The world was fucked anyway. Might as well do some fucked-up things.

He was at work when he received the notification that the young Master was at her condo.

This was not uncommon. There was no need for the Masters to be here to constantly oversee operations. That was why they had managers and supervisors, after all. As for why Jungkook received the notification, well, he had begun to pay the security at that particular building a bit of money to let him know who was going in and out of that particular condo.

Not to do anything.

He just wanted to know.

A few nights ago, she had blindfolded him in the basement. Handcuffed him to a metal bar, naked, and done all sorts of things to him with ice, vibrators, and her pointed manicure. He still had scabbed lines over his back from where she had broken skin. His favorite part had been when she orgasmed while sandwiching the wand vibrator between his balls and her pussy. Holding his cock out of the way, of course. He could feel her cum seeping onto his inner thighs and her hot breath on his chest as she did it. He especially liked it when she scooped up her cum and shoved her slick fingers into his mouth and almost made him choke. Jungkook hadn’t liked it when she stimulated him with a vibrating silicone sleeve rather than her hand. He had begged to at least cum on the stone floor. She only let him if he spit in her hand first and then she used that as lube to jack him off to completion. He wished she had made him lick it up, but the basement floor wasn’t exactly clean.

She did, however, let him get on his knees and clean up her pussy.

Jungkook had an obsession.

He wanted to know who came in and out of the condo. He and the young Master shared a secret. He was a security guard. Hers. He wanted to protect. The best way to protect was to have information. The more information, the better. Spending a bit of money was not going to prevent him from protecting.

On his break, he was in his car when he checked his phone.

The people who had entered the condo were the young Master and her stepbrother.

This was no cause for alarm, but it did greatly piss Jungkook off.

Not for any good reason, he knew. He was in no place to think he was entitled to anything. Nor did he have any delusion about what his relationship was with the young Master. She had the body. She had the money. She could do whatever she wanted as long as she still cared enough to keep their secret. But Jungkook was still mad, because Min Yoongi was an asshole who couldn’t even see who was on his side.

He was also pissed because this information didn’t curb his hunger.

Jungkook sat back in his car and ran his fingers over his erection throbbing in his work pants. His left hand followed the side of his pants, to the slim pocket that held the black switchblade with the engraved tiger motif. It took some effort to unzip his pants. Even more to lower his boxer briefs. His hard cock sprang out, suddenly exposed in the cool air. He stared straight ahead, keeping his breath steady. Glanced at his rearview mirror to make sure his expression didn’t change. No one was coming to the employee parking lot anyway, but there were still cameras. He doubted any of them had the correct angle to see inside his car, but he also didn’t care. He ran the fingertips of his right hand over the head, smearing the pre-cum. Shivered, but otherwise didn’t let the pleasure show. He traced the hard lines of the tiger and stroked himself all over, his swollen cock throbbing uncomfortably, almost unbearable.

Remembered the way his Master touched him and made him sore.

Perfect.

Jungkook knew what the young Master was doing with her stepbrother.

He told himself he didn’t care.

But, still, sometimes he would miss the feeling she gave him. He kept his left hand on the knife she had given him and gripped his balls, squeezing hard. Delicious pain shot up his core. He kept his eyes open, staring straight ahead, aware of the movement around him, imagining her torturing him as he tortured himself, right in the open. Smacked his cock so hard that it hit his pant leg, the slap resounding in the confides of his car. He had to bite his tongue to avoid letting the illicit ecstasy show on his face. He did it again, louder, harder, squeezing his balls again right after to prolong the suffering, and none of it showed on his face even as his lower half vibrated with craving. He wanted her to tell him to stop. He wanted her to punish him. The edges of the switchblade cut into his palm as he hooked thumb and forefinger around the base of his cock and tightened.

The throb of pleasure was so powerful that his hips threatened to rise.

He used all of his willpower to prevent himself from doing so and instead smacked his abused cock once more, his toes curling inside his shoes to maintain the tension of staying upright and appearing unemotional so no one would even suspect how desperately and deeply he wanted to be tied up and used by his Master.

He needed it.

Needed it.

He loved having this secret with the young Master.

He carefully corrected himself. Zipped up his pants and, in doing so, noticed the faint white stains along the inner thighs of his pant legs. He let it be and returned to work. He received a few interesting looks from the working girls but Jungkook only thought about one person. Only one. He finished his shift with his underwear soaked in his pre-cum. The first thing he did when he left work was check his phone.

No new notifications.

He went straight home.

The last thing Min Yoongi knew was the right words to say.

It was one thing to be sure of something and another to hear the outward, sickening proof of it. It was one thing to know his own father was despicable and deplorable, but another to hear his own stepmother saying, what is the big deal? The shameful anger flared within him once more as he remembered. The suggestion itself, vile. The way it was presented even more so. But the anger came from somewhere else. From nights of tangled hands and skin-to-skin. From his teeth sunk into flesh, from his hands around her throat, from his cock buried deep inside his stepsister’s pussy. His. His, because she wanted him, because she willingly toyed with his emotions and pushed all his buttons and coiled around him like a viper, her saliva a venomous aphrodisiac. And the shame, well. The shame didn’t come from the wrongness.

No.

“Strip.”

The shame came from jealousy.

Jealousy from her reaching back so confidently and unhooking her bra, so casual and unbothered by his spiteful order. Her shoulders dipped, left, right, the straps smoothly sliding off as she held the lace cups. Too practiced to be accidental. Too graceful to be a novice and Yoongi was ashamed, ashamed for the way he watched her every move, ashamed at himself for how deeply it affected him, ashamed not at his cock twitching but at his chest tightening, his heart racing, the tremble in his own breath.

She slowly let the bra fall into her hands and tossed it aside, letting him look at the shapely curves and stiff nipples.

He had none of that.

And Yoongi was angry, so angry at his own father for trying to take her from him even though he had no right and no claim over this woman, but all the same, she is mine, mine, and you are a shitty father and took away any hope I had in this life so it is about time I take something for you too.

An eye for an eye.

She paused a few steps away. Hooked her finger over the sides of her black lace panties and bent forward, sliding them down, down. Her breasts fully exposed and, as she stood up, her pussy as well, the low light catching a hint of glistening slick. The blinds were all drawn, but it was still daylight outside, allowing the seeping bright cracks to light up the living room.

He breathed in and was greeted with the potent scent of sex.

One hand on his bare knee. Then the other. Yoongi was still wearing his charcoal, paint-stained jeans. The large rips in the knees allowed for the skin-to-skin contact. He didn’t say anything as she lowered herself to her knees. Didn’t dare breathe under that serpentine gaze. He was still wearing his designer t-shirt and made no move to take it off.

She smiled, her pink tongue tracing the edge of her smirk.

His cock throbbed, stretching out his boxer briefs.

Yoongi cocked his chin and stuck his tongue in his cheek.

Then he shot out his hand and grabbed her by the throat, pressing his fingertips inward. Dragged her neck towards him, growling in his chest, his pulse quickening at the sound of her gasp, his blood racing at the feeling of her hands sliding up his thighs, the now-familiar, ravenous desire coiling as her body slid up against his legs.

“How many times you get on your knees for a man?” he hissed, low and violent.

Her chuckle was so dark that he almost let go.

“Very kind of you to think of them as men, brother.”

Her fingers were at his zipper, yanking hard to pull it taut so she could unbutton his jeans. As if she had done this hundreds of times. He hated them all. He hated them and he had no idea who they were but he hated them all.

Yoongi narrowed his eyes, letting his seething anger command him.

“I’m not your brother.”

He threw her back, unzipping his pants and shoving them down, underwear and all. His cock snapped out, bouncing slightly from the force and its stiffness. He didn’t bother to give any warning. Simply seized her shoulders and pushed her down, shuddering from seeing her slide down so readily, and he thrust into her already open mouth.

Fitted his palms to the back of her head, pushing her hair out of the way, and began to fuck her face.

Soft lips, rubbing tongue, tight throat. He didn’t care. Deep, rolling his hips, not moving too quickly on purpose so he could last. So he could feel his girth stretch out her muscles, so he could savor the wet constriction, so he could stare into her eyes gazing back at him from below and tell himself I don’t care, clenching his jaw to avoid moaning, I don’t care, the harsh pleasure eating up his thighs and sliding up his spine, I don’t care, sucking in a stinging inhale as her tongue teased him, stimulating the thin skin under the head, burning heat searing the back of his neck.

She stared into his eyes.

Somehow, Yoongi felt as if she was seeing all of him. But that was impossible.

His shoulder blades pressed against the back of the sofa and he smacked his hips into her lips over and over again, one hand on the back of her head and the other bunching up his shirt, his labored breathing meshing with the lewd sound of her sucking him off, his legs shaking badly, threatening to collapse from the sinful delight tearing at to every nerve of his body.

He kept going.

Her hands spread over the couch, steadying herself as he built the pace, her naked body under him.

Her tongue flicked over his balls.

Mine.

He bit back his groan and snapped his head back, gasping as he felt his core lurch, the high shooting though him like an erotic bullet ricocheting through his ribcage. Hips driving forward, shoving her head down, tightness in his chest as he pumped his release into her throat in thick uncontrolled streams. His lips parting. Her name leaking out in a weak snarl.

He should have said something.

Yoongi wouldn’t know what to say but this, this happening between his legs right now, this was not what a good person would have done. Not that he had any grasp of what the concept of good could be. He just knew it wasn’t this.

The pulse rippled through him and he shivered, tightening his grip on her hair.

Pulled her mouth from his cock.

She leaned back, following his hold, and opened her mouth, displaying a wet pool of saliva and milky cum trickling down to a black hole, her pink tongue flattening out so he could see everything. He watched her swallow. He watched her savor his taste without guilt.

His dripping cock jerked, still hard.

“Play with your tits.”

He kept his left hand twisted into her hair and wrapped his right around his wet length, forcefully pushing himself to the edge as she squeezed her breasts. Pinching her hard nipples, pulling at them, unapologetically sighing in lustful satisfaction, flicking them. Large, swollen, stiff. His eyes shifted to her face. She watched him through lashes. The corner of her lips curved upward, amused. He cocked an eyebrow. Slid his ass forward to the edge of the leather sofa, gripping himself tighter, faster, using the base of his palm to shove down the crown of her head so she was forced to crouch.

She didn’t seem surprised.

He curled his fist downward, pulling on her hair hard enough to be painful.

Her head whipped back, plush lips parting, smokey gasp escaping.

Yoongi stared into her eyes.

They reflected his face, glassy and dark.

“I… I fucking hate you.”

Those dark eyes glittered with glee.

He came on her face.

Her eyes instantly snapped closed as he raised his hips and shot a streak of white over her cheek and onto her open lips. Thrust into his hand a few more times, hissing at the sensitivity, dribbling more down her neck, over her collarbone, and finally shoving the hot, pulsing head against the top of her breasts, pressing into the softness and growling, feeling flare after flare of feral pleasure. Her hands came up and cupped her breasts, pushing them together. He shoved his softening cock into the crevice, smearing his orgasm into her skin, the heavy, strong scent mixing with the honey still wafting up from below.

His entire body shuddered.

He unclenched his fingers from her hair and wiped his cum on her cheek into her mouth, shoving two fingers into the hot wet warmth. He pushed them in and out. His exhale shivered as her lips closed around them and she sucked, sensual and wrong, sucked all the way up to his knuckles as he lightly thrusted into the pocket of her breasts that she was pressing together.

Yoongi didn’t say anything.

He couldn’t.

He leaned down and replaced his fingers with his mouth, kissing his stepsister roughly, his own cum sticking to his face and tongue.

Back then, lying was so normal that the concept of truth became foreign.

“You look so pretty when you cry with my cock in your mouth, babygirl.”

You didn’t even have to think about it anymore while it was happening. You just did what you needed to do. You already knew the timing. Intoxicated and pissed from that younger guy turning her down, your mother would come home early, storming into the master bedroom without knocking. The entire scene laid out. No mistaking the situation. Instant incrimination. Immediately screaming her head off, hitting her current flavor-of-the-month boyfriend with her clutch, yelling about how it was over, and that argument would drag on with your body lying face-first into the carpet, your mascara tears soaking into the white shag, and the ache of your wrists tied behind your back with a men’s tie.

Inside, you would be laughing.

Your mother would then force yet another man to pay her a lot of money to keep her mouth shut. She always played her cards right. She always knew too much. She knew what kind of men to target. She knew what truths to say to render them speechless and so deep in the fog that they simply did whatever she asked. These men stood no chance in the wake of her manipulation. It was a talent, really. She would look at you and you would look back. Not saying anything. Slap you too, perhaps, if she had thought she could get more money out of the rich fucker. She probably assumed you were jealous or suspected that you wanted her spotlight, maybe.

Didn’t matter.

Because the night before that younger man that had turned down your mother at the bar, he had paid you even more money to be in your lap dressed in a lacy nightie with his own wrists tied behind his back, violently riding your large strap-on while you pulled on the leash around his neck, and you had whispered behind his back.

Low and dark.

“You gonna cum for your daddy, babygirl?”

Your mother really was a dumb, dumb bitch.

She made sure you were stuck in a world where everyone shot everybody. And so you did, although you only had one true target. Slowly, delicately, precisely. Needle by needle. Man by man. Old, young, in between. Sick fantasies and voracious greed in the shadows. Each conquest without remorse, creating a cyclic lifestyle your mother became so used to that it became an unbreakable habit. An addictive drug with soaring highs and explosive lows. You could have used a gun. Of course. How easy it could have been to ruin the life of the one who gave birth to you by exposing time after time she had exploited your youth for her own gain. But that would have been too quick of an end. Too merciful.

She didn’t deserve that.

Did your mother know? Probably. Did she want to stop it? Of course not. A constant flow of hush money and a revolving door of rich dick, oh, how could she refuse? The luxurious benefits were too fruitful to resist. And when she got bored, she could make your life insufferable until you pulled out that get-out-jail-free card. Most of the time, though, you simply sensed when she was over it and ended things to move on to the next best thing.

Searching.

Hunting.

You just had to be patient.

And then Min Yoongi came along.

Everything falling into place.

Bored, frustrated, agitated with having to play this part for so long and wanting to use you again to get her out of it. A small snag. If your mother was the one to ask for the divorce, she would get nothing. Prenuptial agreements were a bitch. He was disgusting person, but unfortunately not an idiot. And Papa wasn’t giving up yet. After years and years of relying on someone else to do the dirty work, and then being silently refused by that same someone, well, who was going to help her now? Still, she tried to manipulate you.

Your mother was too much of a narcissist to see that you had already surpassed her.

In addition, at this point, she had too much pride to change tactics now. It was a matter of principle. A matter of exercising her power over you, vain was it was. The perception of control. She thought she had won all the battles but she had already lost this war. No. No, she would not allow it. It didn’t matter if it was becoming clearer and clearer each day that she was stuck in a cage. So, your mother did what she always did. Drink. Seek out the high in others. Run. And, at the end of it all, kicking and screaming, getting dragged back to be Papa’s good, obedient wife.

Heh.

Revenge was delicious.

His fingers wrapped around her left wrist, around the chain bracelet with the black glass beads.

He was already inside.

His right hand was around her neck, pulling her head back to force her spine to arch as he shoved his hips forward a little more, making them both hiss. Him from the tightness. Her from the fullness. It must have hurt, but Min Yoongi was fucking his stepsister and he didn’t have time to care about things like that.

“Your ass is much tighter than your pussy,” he growled into ear, pushing back her wet hair.

The raining showerhead thundered down. Warm droplets splashing against burning skin. She had both palms against the vertical, smooth white tiles, using the leverage to push her body back into him, squeezing his length. He didn’t care. The grimace rippled down his body, his core tightening, his hard cock twitching. Not moving yet. He would be damned if he moved right now. Kept his grip on her wrist and neck, feeling pulse after pulse race through his blood, his erratic breath against her ear, not looking up from the curve of her tense neck.

Yoongi just stood there in the opulent shower, his fully erect cock buried into his stepsister’s tight asshole, clenching his pelvic muscles to make it throb inside her.

It was wrong. It was demeaning. He hadn’t even asked. She had left him on the couch and walked past him, still painted with his cum, and said nothing as she entered the bedroom. A few seconds later, he had heard the running water. Yoongi had sat there, pants still undone, dying in the weight of this watery silence, feeling both the sting of pain and blind anger. He didn’t care. He didn’t care, and the lies he told himself were second nature at this part, something so lived-in that they became real, even as Yoongi flung himself off the leather sofa and yanked his clothes off, throwing them on the floor. All the way to the bathroom, laying false claim on this condo, seeing himself in the mirror for a second before entering the shower.

His gelled, orange-dyed hair in disarray and his lost expression.

His dark eyes misty.

It must have been a trick of a light, a result of the steaming air, that his vision blurred unexpectedly.

Without another thought, Yoongi had opened the glass door of the shower and let himself in, pushing her body against the tiles and not letting her see his face because even he didn’t want to look at it now.

She moaned under him, not moving away.

I hate you.

He let go of her left wrist and reached down, sliding his fingers between her open legs and tracing the slick, wet lips of her pussy.

“Must be awful for you to have this hole empty.”

A wicked, dark snicker flowed out from her open lips, more telling than any words.

His chest to her back. His hand around her neck, tightening, and he pressed his rough fingertips to her swollen clit, relishing in the depraved satisfaction of her hips shivering, bucking back against him in response. He pressed down, sliding back and forth. Slow, with pressure, and moving his own hips. Drawing back, almost, her tight ring of muscle clutching around the base of the head. He hoped it tortured her. He hoped it felt good to be denied, hoped she felt the empty ache as he rutted the engorged tip of his cock in and out, in and out, then he shoved his cock back in, all the way.

The pleasure flared, burning all of his nerves and making his legs scream in tension.

He hoped she could feel the hurt, because Yoongi could.

Choked her harder and began to fuck her ass.

Close, his breath into her wet hair. Water streaming down his shoulders. Thrusting up and with effort, slow at first, but forceful, suffocating his arousal with the depth. He bit his lip, hard, letting the pain eat through the pleasure. So tight around his hard length, so soft along the sensitive, throbbing head, sucking him in, her thin moans echoing throughout the bathroom along with the slapping of hips to ass. Her body shaking under him. He let go of her neck suddenly, gripping her hip instead, driving his fingertips into her folds and rubbing tight circles, flicking his blunt fingernail over the packed nerves.

She hissed, her shoulders caving in, and growled his name, the tendons of her hands popping out.

“Fuck, Yoongi!”

There was an abrupt convulsion around his buried cock and passionate electricity radiated all over his inner thighs, up his stomach, to his throat, turning him viciously breathless, her orgasm slick on his fingers, and his hand on her hip gripped tighter, pausing to feel the aftershocks.

He hoped he left bruises.

On her body and in her memory.

So tight, uncontrolled now, chasing the wicked pleasure. He thrust in, again and again, loud and lewd and wet, her back arched, lower torso nearly parallel to the ground, and Yoongi sank his hold into her lush hips, dragging her to him and his unforgiving cock, his vision blurring, his hair sticking to his face, fuzzy smears of dark orange eclipsed with droplets clinging to his lashes, and he closed his eyes, pretending there was nothing but this, nothing but tightness and pleasure and her cries for him, wanton and unsatiated. The water tumbled, down, down, splashing over the tiles. He was drowning, drowning in lust, and the water drowned out his sudden hungry moan.

Smack!

She gasped sharply, on the edge of pain.

He groaned, violent and possessed, spilling into that soft clenching hole, and he could feel every jerk, every shiver, every twitch that shot a little more. Could feel even the way the choked head of his cock was being squished up against his own cum, the delicate rubbing sending a fresh wave of piercing pins and needles tearing through him.

Couldn’t breathe.

Staggered back, slipping out, and it was obscene. His orgasm wasn’t as much, of course, but even in the hazy falling water he could see his own cum dribble out of her ass and stick to the curve, clinging there for a violating millisecond before being washed away, dragged down the drain along with his sins.

Yoongi panted, the back of his throat feeling as if an animal had clawed at it.

He looked up.

Her head was turned, hair flat against her cheeks, one eye seeing him, and the fingertips of her right hand toyed with the chain bracelet with the black beads. There were red marks on her left wrist, underneath the jewelry. The edge of her lips raised in gratification.

The water fell down, down.

He didn’t say anything.

Reached forward and smeared what was left along her hole, then remained tight-lipped as he shoved his finger in, sucking back a breath. She gasped, but it was faint and not a whimper. It was lustful and carnal satisfaction. He pushed in and out. In and out. Still tight, still gripping him, pulsing around his finger, learned behavior, and Yoongi wanted to scream.

Mostly because he knew this practiced response was most likely not from instances like this, but much crueler, hateful moments.

He placed his palm along her jaw and turned her face more to face him. Leaned in without another word, sliding his tongue into her open mouth and slowly thrusting his finger into her ass. All the way to his knuckle, slow and deliberate. Gentle pleasure. The water rained down, down. It washed away all sins. He pulled his finger out. Turned his back to her, taking the soap.

Couldn’t look.

Yoongi told himself he didn’t care. Cleaned off his hand. Covered himself in the soap, rubbing the sweet lather into his skin while staring at the white tiles. Told himself there was nothing to say. Told himself the tingling left on his skin was just from the physicality of it all and nothing else. Nothing else.

He stiffened as he felt her hard nipples ghost his skin.

“I’ll wash your back.”

He tightened his jaw.

“Brother.”

Her full breasts pressed against his back. Her hands on his shoulders, caressing them. All over, body to body, slippery, fragrant. He bit back his sound, killing it. His chest vibrated, the snarl inside fighting him. Snapped his head around, knocking her hand away, his wet hair over his eyes.

Couldn’t quite catch her expression from behind the dripping curtain of red-orange.

“Stop calling me brother.”

He didn’t care.

Didn’t care.

He was no different from anyone else who touched her. Yoongi reached out, closing his grip around her shoulder. Pulled her to him, their bodies colliding, his heavy breath on her face.

Avoided her eyes.

“We are alone. Stop pretending,” he mumbled, leaning down to those lips, bruising them with kisses to avoid any more slip-ups.

You awoke to silence.

Turned your head and Min Yoongi was staring at you in the semi-darkness. Shirtless. Arms crossed, looking down, with the duvet pooled around his lower waist. His dyed, dark orange hair hung down, slightly frizzy and unkempt. Not styled. Air-dried from the shower. His pale skin seemed even paler than usual, the pallor reflecting the grim expression on his face. Narrowed, guarded dark eyes. Frigid tension between his lips.

A slow breath weaved through the tightness in your chest that was slowly dissipating due to now being conscious and in control.

You could feel your nakedness under the duvet.

The curtains were barely open, allowing a strip of moonlight and city light to illuminate the dark bedroom. You gazed back at Yoongi but said nothing. He must have witnessed. You inhaled again. A slow, measured breath. Held it. Exhaled. It was almost unnoticeable, barring the fact that your stepbrother was staring right at you.

“You had a nightmare.”

His lips barely moved. Each word came out deliberately and impassively, trying to avoid the true intention behind such words, and, in doing so, revealing everything. You almost expected the low edge of irritation. You could tell he regretted not adding it.

You almost lied.

Almost.

“I always dream,” you whispered back with no emotion, desensitized.

Complete and utter stillness.

A single shift and tilt of his head, not accepting your response. You looked up at him from the pillow, the images flashing in your head, but they quickly disintegrated, leaving only the crawling sensation of distorted parasitic desires forced upon you at one point in time. You ignored it. They always came in dreams because they couldn’t reach you without the shackles of sleep.

“You mean you always have nightmares,” Yoongi corrected you.

Inhale. Inhale. Exhale.

You had no reply to the truth.

Maybe it was the surrealness of the dead of night. Maybe it was the unholiness of what happened in your bed with your stepbrother earlier. Maybe it was the used condoms on the floor and the torn wrappers all over the nightstand. Maybe it was the scent of sex and sin weighing heavily in the air. As close as possible and yet so far away. His dark brown eyes flickered to the empty easel on the other side of the bedroom. Then back to your form coiled in the sheets, serpentine, and yet in a rare moment of calm. Hunger satiated, at least for now.

Yoongi asked you a question with no notable inflection. Perhaps it was the low volume of his voice, raspy and dreamlike.

“Am I ever part of your nightmares?”

You almost twisted the truth.

“You are related to one of many monsters I have encountered,” you breathed, staring into the shadows of his eyes.

Loathing flared within in at the mention.

Your stepbrother looked away.

“I know.”

You closed your eyes, not wanting to see any more.

“There are always monsters,” you whispered to the surrealness of the night.

Yoongi said nothing.

He had never seen you sleep before. Even on so-called family vacations, you had never shared a room with him. More often than not there would be a mix-up and you would end up having a sleepless night in the same hotel room as your stepfather and mother. That or running off with a local to finally get some sleep. It was safer to be in a stranger’s home than in a hotel room with those two. That was the truth. Those vacations were only for show anyway; there was no meaning to them other than a chance at coercion. You knew Yoongi knew that.

He hadn’t known about your nightmares though.

You had grown so used to them that you had forgotten. A strange slip-up for you. No, you concluded, not a slip-up. You didn’t have them every night. Just most nights. You knew there could have been a chance the moment you closed your eyes while in bed with him. You hadn’t planned for him to know, but this was not a mistake. Making plans was for novices. Plans never succeed. Capitalizing on the moment and turning it into an opportunity at the right time, why, that was what constituted a villain.

And, sometimes, one had to become a villain to survive.

You waited.

Min Yoongi didn’t move for a long, long time. He stayed where he was, not laying back down and not adjusting. You would feel and hear his actions if he did. He did not. There was nothing but his calm, nearly inaudible breath and soon it became a lulling rhythm, swaying your consciousness between reality, nightmares, or total blackness.

You hoped it would be total blackness this time.

Deep, deep down, for yet another countless night in a row, you wished for the total blackness to become eternal despite knowing full well that you would never be that lucky. That was the funny thing about wishes.

Even the most unworthy cling to them.

On the cusp of falling asleep, you felt the weight on the bed shift. Yoongi left.

A few blocks away, Jeon Jungkook stood shirtless in his bathroom and locked eyes with his own reflection.

The hot sweat along his shoulders was drying. He savored the way his heart raced in his chest, thud-thud-thud, matching the click-click-clicking of the images flickering through his mind. He closed his eyes and he could almost feel it again, once again, the crawling sensation of forced desire, her slick tongue sliding over his collarbone and then her spit hitting the back of his throat, his mouth open and already primed to receive. In his dreams, there was no blindfold.

In his dreams, Jungkook could see her face.

In his dreams, he could relish in the power thriving in those downcast eyes, watch her nails sink into his stomach as he whimpered, witness her delicious body roll as her slippery pussy rubbed against his hard length trapped in an uncomfortable and unbearable position, the dark purple head leaking against his lower belly. The young Master would not give him what he wanted and Jungkook would cry. He would beg.

And he would hate and love hearing the denial.

Jungkook breathed in slow, recalling the dream and committing it to memory.

Inhale.

The ache within him grew and grew.

Inhale.

He knew exactly where she lived. The building. The number on the door. He even knew how to bypass the security. He had memorized their schedules and gathered enough damning information. It was always good to have ammunition, after all. The young Master had taught him that.

Exhale.

Then again, she was most likely fucking her stepbrother right now.

His eyes snapped open and Jungkook growled at his reflection, tension creeping all over his body.

It took him a moment to calm down. There was nothing he could do about it. He breathed out again, his shoulders falling. His reflection observed him as closely as he did. His black hair fallen over his forehead, tangled from sleep. Eyes sharp, brows furrowed. His hands gripped the edge of the sink. He could see how wound up he was by how white his knuckles were. He let go. She shared a secret with him. He had to trust in that. He was confident in that secret.

He had to be.

He worked for her. He was of service. He took that very seriously, regardless of what an outsider might think, because he had chosen to be a man of loyalty. Jungkook knew where his loyalties lie, and he was not a man who could be swayed by irrefutable truths because he could always recall that look in her eyes. That poisoned guilt, that vacancy, the look of a child begging for someone to help, and he had made a silent promise that even she didn’t know about.

To those eyes.

To her.

In a world there everyone backstabbed everyone else, Jungkook had chosen to be the knife to be wielded by one who still believed she had no one by her side. Of course, it was stupid. Of course, she was not faultless. Of course, everything was all wrong.

But they shared a secret.

He turned his head, not quite facing the mirror, but instead in the direction of the location of her condominium, and spoke to the air, to the dead of night, across the distance of many heads in between reality and dreams. She could not hear him but that did not make his declaration invalid.

“I will protect you.”

And perhaps his loyalties would eventually turn the young Master against him. He hated that that could be true, but such was life. And maybe he definitely couldn’t save anyone, but he would die trying. Did she not deserve such loyalty? Even the most unworthy didn’t deserve to be abandoned.

After all, there was always some awful truth to villainous behavior.

He missed her.

He wished he could hold her, someday. He wished for that to be possible, even if it was the slimmest of chances. He hoped she had understood him back then, hoped he had conveyed how serious he was every time they interacted. I like it with you. It’s different. That was right. She said so herself. And so, Jungkook promised to play with game with her, no matter what it looked like, no matter how much he wanted to punch that self-centered Min Yoongi right in his stupid pretty face, no matter how much he hurt because his hurt meant her happiness and eventually she would come back to him.

Of course.

Jungkook bit his lower lip, inhaling slowly.

Right?

Held it.

“Come back to me,” he whispered to the surrealness of the night and he knew damn well she couldn’t hear him.

Min Yoongi sat on the couch in the living room of his stepsister’s condo with only his underwear on after his business with the bathroom. He had gone to the kitchen to wash his hands because he could not stare at his own reflection in the mirror.

He inhaled a shaky breath.

The proper thing to do would be to go back to the bedroom. Well, proper was the wrong word considering he was sleeping with his own stepsister. Perhaps the better word for it was… ethical. Fuck, even halfway decent. He couldn’t get the image of her distress out of his head. Waking up suddenly to her hands clutching the pillow, her knuckles white, her breathing rapid and labored. At first, he thought his brain had made up the sounds. Nonsensical muted cries. Pained noises trapped in her throat. Her entire body tense, on the verge of thrashing but not. Rigid.

Couldn’t.

Paralyzed in fear.

Yoongi tried to gulp down more air. Shuddering. Swallowing. Feeling like it wasn’t enough, falling forward and running his hands through his hair, his elbows on his knees.

He had never seen her afraid. Truly and utterly terrified, and it only appeared because she had been asleep. The moment he hesitantly touched her shoulder, she startled awake, instantly vigilant. The transformation had been seamless, and then she was herself. Calm, collected, calculated. Only now did Yoongi realize it was a caricature. A front so practiced that it had become second nature. Not intentionally but out of necessity. It frightened him, because now Yoongi had confirmation that his father was just another in the long line of self-centered assholes that attempted to take advantage of her and he was no better.

He was no better.

He shakily exhaled, torn and in tatters.

There are always monsters.

Of course, there were always monsters and Yoongi was one of them.

He wanted to run. Throw on all his clothes and run to his studio, locking himself in there and not coming out until he couldn’t stand being alone anymore. He wanted to scream and drown himself in alcohol. He wanted to pick a fight with some hapless stranger and feel powerful. Even if just for a second. Anything. Anything but this. An awful crawling sensation travelled all over his bare back. He shivered even though it had no physical basis. He wasn’t stupid. Yoongi had seen the way men looked at her – as if she was a thing to be used. He had convinced himself not to care. Why care? She didn’t. He had vowed himself not to get involved like that but now he was sitting in her living room wanting to tear his skin off thinking about the probable shit she had been though in her childhood and having the horrifying realization that the truth was probably beyond his imagination. Attempted to take advantage of her? He was lying to himself again.

He wanted to go home.

Except he knew damn well he never had a home.

Yoongi had lived his life in the shadow of a greater man, or so he was led to believe. Even if this didn’t turn out to be true, he could not undo the paradoxical thinking of overwhelming self-importance and the constant struggle of trying to reach an unattainable goal. He was never enough for his father. Eventually he just stopped trying to be. Every achievement was met with the accusation, a need to be more. More ambitious, more strategic, more intelligent. It was impossible. He had long stopped giving a fuck, or so he thought.

And yet.

Like her nightmares, his own personal hell came back to haunt him all the time.

He dug his fingernails into his scalp, on the cusp of screaming.

The only reason he didn’t was because he didn’t want to wake her. Or perhaps it was because he didn’t want her to know. There was nothing he could do. He could do nothing. He never could, according to his father. Lacked resolve, or at least that was what Yoongi had been told over and over. You are a disgrace. There was at least solace in knowing that he wasn’t his father, right? He didn’t know. Was that even true, considering all of this? I always dream. She was so used to them that nightmares were simply considered regular dreams to her. How fucked was that? Shit, her entire life was a goddamn nightmare and she didn’t even know. Or maybe she did, and had adapted accordingly, something he could never do, something Yoongi could never admit to himself, at least not unless it was times like this, trapped in the surreal depths of the dead of night.

He tried to breathe but it seemed impossible.

He knew deep down that he was worthless, but even the worthless had desires. And he wasn’t stupid either. She was using him. He was using her. She wanted him for her reasons and he wanted her to get back at his father. Shit. She was afraid and she showed no one, not even herself, dealing with it in her sleep. Didn’t trust him. Why the fuck would she? He was her stepbrother, they were having an incestuous affair, and not once did she rely on him.

But he did.

Yoongi shuddered.

That was true.

He relied on her to want him so he could feel better about himself.

I am so fucking vile.

She didn’t even make him feel guilty about it. There are always monsters. She could have. She could have emotionally manipulated him, she could have said something to get a rise out of him, but all she did was tell him the truth of how desensitized she was to malignance. She had options. He did not expect to be so shaken by the one she chose. His fingernails dug into his scalp some more, causing stinging pain. Yoongi dared not look up because he knew her paintings were hanging on the walls around him. Multiple canvases painted black all over with thin lines of dark blood-red drawn onto the murk like arteries. He had found them unsettling and rightfully so. Underneath them were secrets. “I love you, so I act this way.” “You should accept love. It’s not that easy to be loved in this world.” “You can keep a secret, right?” “Let’s make a secret.” Scrawled underneath and then covered with heavy layers of paint, almost certainly hundreds of secrets, and the awful crawling sensation travelled up and down his spine like hot acid.

He didn’t want to know.

Yoongi knew that he should go back to the bedroom if he was even halfway decent of a man.

But he was terrified.

He could not be like her.

He couldn’t deal with it.

He had to make a decision. He forced himself to take a breath. Then another. He forced himself to stand, to exhale, to walk. What was not supposed to be ingrained in memory already was. All he had to do was follow the trail of discarded clothes. Vile. He stepped between darkness and light, but the faint glow was artificial, bleeding into the windows from the city below, and Yoongi knew he could not be like his stepsister but he wanted to believe that he could. He wanted to believe he could play the game. He did not want to believe he was just another discarded misfit toy. Couldn’t. And so he chose not to believe the irrefutable truth, turning the corner to see her eyes closed. Her lustrous hair draped over her pillow. Her facial expression not in distress but, instead, nothing. A mind trapped in total blackness.

Dreamlessness.

Yoongi had never been so grateful to see nothing.

He stepped to her side of the bed.

In some ways, she resembled a child, or at least the peacefulness of one in slumber. His hand lifted. Each strand of her hair, the curve of her cheek, the line of her closed eyes. From moonlight to memory, although at the time he didn’t know it yet. He reached out. His fingertips hovered above the crown of her head and Yoongi realized, with a tightness in his chest, that he would be perhaps the first and the only person to do this for her.

His palm touched the top her head.

His stepsister remained fast asleep. Yoongi stayed like that for a moment. He knew damn well that she would never feel the sensation of someone patting her on the head but he did it anyway.

You left before your stepbrother woke up.

To be more precise, you didn’t confirm or deny if he was faking his deep breathing. You simply accepted it as truth. Dressed in your closet, picked up your purse, and stepped out of the apartment, heading for your car. Not looking back. Purchased a light breakfast, spending some solitary time in the hotel restaurant. Headed to your appointment with Valentino, where you absentmindedly picked a few pieces for work, thinking about the word nightmare.

Dreams.

You called them dreams. Yoongi had called them nightmares. The correct word was memories. Ones that you did not acknowledge. The times you were the prey before you became the predator. The times you were weak before you were strong. The first time you felt power was the first time. Not all those other times where you hid and prayed not be found before the drugs or drunkenness set in. Not those other times you were approached, despising it not because of learned morality, but because the touching placed you in the same category as your mother, something you loathed more than the wrongness. Misery was something unnecessary and meaningless. Pain was something you could acclimate to. Death was something you could aspire to. But being known as your mother’s spitting image was a fate worse than death.

You had a nightmare.

You made your luxury purchases. You window-shopped at a few other spots, all while questioning your humanness that you had thought you had lost long ago. You could sense the judgement in the eyes of the other patrons. The employees were sincere because you were holding your black card, but not a single one dared to ask you about your personal life. It was not about whether you seemed stuck-up in your long structured black wool cape, nor the subtle sensuality of your fitted, slinky black dress with the high slit, studded Valentino black pumps, and small black handbag.

There was just something not quite right about your presence.

You slipped into this persona when you didn’t want to be bothered. Natural, but perhaps not. The eyes felt louder than usual today. You had dreams. Everybody had dreams. You had a nightmare. You had heard the word before, and yet the way he said it. You placed your shopping bags in your car and drove away with no destination in mind. Flashes of memory. Whiskey and a hand on your wrist. You waited for the light to turn green and ventured forward. Nights in private rooms in bars you were too young for. You stopped at a nice restaurant in a high-rise, sitting at by the window with a nice view, slicing into your steak in silence as you pondered how it would feel to throw your body against the glass and plunge into free-fall, wondering if you would have the life-flashing-before-your-eyes-moment, if you would recall all the countless hands and the whispered placations and being awake for all of it, so much so that you caged those memories into dreams.

You patted your lips with the cloth napkin before paying the check.

A man said something to you as you were leaving and you looked at him with such hollowness that he took a step back, visibly shaken. You forgot about it. You shopped for a little longer, purchasing another pair of nice, wickedly tall heels. There was one final errand to complete before heading home to fuck your stepbrother. You took your time.

Days passed.

And then, elation.

Jeon Jungkook stood in front of the door of salvation. He raised a hand to the heavy wood. Held his breath. Savored the sensation of his need crawling up from his insides, rearing its ugly head and shaking his heart to a rapid, telltale pulse. He knocked.

“Come in.”

His breath hitched at the familiar voice.

He opened the heavy door of the office on the highest floor of the gentleman’s club and the young Master looked up from the other side of the desk. Hair swept back in a graceful updo with a few tasteful strands framing her face. The dark silver blouse clung to her curves. Silk. The fountain pen in her hand paused.

Her eyes roamed all over him.

He almost collapsed in desperation.

She said nothing. She did not stand up from behind the dark-stained cherry wood. He stepped in cautiously, placing his body on the other side of the door. It was a large office of black floral wallpaper, large black filing cabinets, and chairs positioned along the walls. The floor-to-ceiling windows behind her desk were bulletproof glass. One-way view. This was one of the areas that had no cameras. Even the bathrooms had cameras positioned outside the stalls to catch any nefarious acts. He knew all of this. The chandelier diffused cold-blooded white light in reflected fragments all over the room.

The look in her eyes pinned him to his spot.

His spine tingled as an n icy itch slithered down to his groin.

“Lock the door behind you,” the young Master commanded him.

He did as he was told, with every cell in his body vibrating for the pain. Turned around. Like a snake, she had already risen, gliding around the desk. Her hips were tucked into a skin-tight pleather pencil skirt. The wicked high heels were silent against the vintage Persian rug. She was probably standing on over a hundred million won. She stopped in front of her desk.

Unfastened the button of her left sleeve.

Casually looked down to smoothly fold it back to her elbow. Jungkook remained rooted, not crossing the distance without an order despite his growing erection already fighting against his pants. Golden light glistened along her periphery, highlighting every line. Hell turned heavenly. She completed the left sleeve and paused, raising her right hand to waist height.

Tilted her head back and beckoned him with two fingers.

“Come forward.”

With each step his own heart beat against the confines of his ribcage. With each step Jungkook knew his arousal was becoming more and more obvious. He deliberately kept his hands by his sides, not hiding anything, and her eyes flickered down as she folded her right sleeve back. There was a ripple of knowing across her features. He stopped at a respectful distance. They were alone. The door was locked. This room was soundproof. He was in the middle of his shift when he was called up, which never happened unless one had committed a grave mistake. He knew this, and yet he was still inappropriately, obscenely, violently turned on. She finished rolling up her sleeve to the elbow and reached back to an object that was behind her, tucked by the computer monitor in between papers.

A black leather blindfold.

She tilted her head. He was taller than her, but that meant nothing. She ticked the blindfold in her hand, wordlessly telling him to come closer. He did so, his face frozen, on the cusp of falling apart. He was in his full uniform. Cap and all. It was as if none of that mattered. He tried to search for some kind of emotion on her face but she remained impassive.

“On your knees.”

He obeyed so quickly that they both heard the heavy sound of his weight hitting the floor under the carpet. She did not even smile. She stared down at him. He looked up at her. He wanted to say he needed it. He wanted to say do anything to me, anything you want, please do it now, and yet all she did was hold the blindfold in one hand with her ass against the edge of her desk, gazing down at Jungkook’s spread knees and trembling body.

He was so hungry for it that he was shaking.

Her eyes stopped at the obvious bulge in his pants and she declared in a noncommittal tone, “I am going to hurt you. Right now.” His breath froze in his throat. “On my dime, I’m going to hurt you. And then you will go back to work, hurting, and you will not let a single person know.”

No explanation about what happened the past couple days. Jungkook knew she had left her apartment and always gone back. He also knew her stepbrother had not left with her during those outings. That meant when she went back, she was most likely fucking him. Jungkook knew that. But she came back here. Here, to the gentleman’s club she owned. Where he worked. She came back, and probably not for him. And yet.

Yet he was on his knees right now because she forced him to.

She owned him.

That was all he ever wanted.

“Yes, Master.”

Her line of vision raised. She stepped forward, and placed her right shoe on his thigh. He gasped, feeling the pressure in the toe of her heel and then the tip of the stiletto. His cap was removed from his head and delicately placed on the desk. Her face lowered. For a single, hovering second, they were eye-to-eye.

“Close your eyes, Jungkook,” she whispered against his lips.

He did and she slipped the blindfold over his eyes before buckling it tightly in place.

You straightened.

Looked down at him.

You had never done this before. Not in the middle of the day, in this office that used to be your mother’s. These walls had seen a lot of fucking, you knew. Your mother used to be notorious for it. This place was tainted. Festering with immoral intent. You removed your shoe from his leg. Heard Jungkook’s small gasp of relief whisper past his quivering lips. You previously used the basement because it was the place where horrible acts were meant to be committed, the place your mother refused to go because it was beneath her to do such nasty things. You had turned the basement into your safe space. This office was her space. Her space to use her sexuality as her power, and therefore you had only used it to conduct official business. Until now.

You placed your shoe on top of his pant-covered erection and put pressure on it.

He whimpered, locking his knees and taking it.

You violated your mother’s space with Jungkook’s pure, ravenous need to service you.

“Have you been wanting me?” you asked, placing a hand on the edge of the desk so you could rub back and forth while stepping on his cock.

“Y… ah, y-yes…”

“Craving me?”

“Yes… oh, f-fuck…”

You shoved the tip of your stiletto in between the dip of his thigh connecting to his crotch, digging into that soft part without remorse.

“Touching yourself thinking only of me?”

His voice shook but his resolve did not.

“Only you.”

Jungkook made no move to hide or conceal himself. You removed the pressure and stepped around him, admiring the angles on his body. His hands were fists, knuckles pressed into the carpet. The clip of the tiger switchblade was visible from the side pocket of his uniform pants. You stopped behind him. Laced your fingers into his short black hair and yanked, hard, making him gasp to the ceiling. You leaned down, breathing out just above his open mouth. He inhaled greedily, his broad shoulders vibrating with need. You stared straight down his chest, to his exposed crotch, and whispered into the black hole of his throat, “Take your cock out and show me.”

He whined as his hands left the carpet. Centimeter by agonizing centimeter. His belt unbuckled, flopping to the side. Time slowed down despite his haste to undo his pants, nearly ripping the zipper, but you did not relieve him of your grip, staring straight down as he pushed down his pants. Pushed down his black boxer briefs, and then pulled out his stiff, leaking length. The head was dark red and glistening. He moved his right hand closer to the base of the shaft. You pulled on his hair, making his lower lip brush against your chin as he moaned, immediately backing off.

“Your balls too. Out.”

He reached again, but only to scoop his balls out, leaving his genitals fully exposed to the air.

You breathed in, savoring his unique scent.

His hard cock twitched, bobbing.

You let go of his hair.

Backed up, saying nothing. Stayed silent, admiring everything about him. He could certainly hear the movement of your skirt, but he remained head back, his hands hovering by his hips, and you sank to your knees between his.

And slapped his cock.

His head snapped to the side and he cried out.

“Louder,” you ordered, and slapped him again.

His screams radiated throughout the office.

You gripped his balls and squeezed, listening to the effect of your assault ravage his lungs. His torso writhed. You released and dug your nails inward, making his shoulders flinch strongly. You smacked the shaft again, watching it bounce from side to side from your force. His deep voice cracked. You wrapped your hand around him and his cock was hot, pulsating, needy. Again and again, you slapped his cock, reaching up with your free hand to unbutton his shirt.

One.

By.

One.

His naked chest was exposed in a deep v-line. You reached in and dragged your nails down as you ghosted your palm around his sore, abused cock, delicately rubbing the length against your skin as you tore him up. Jungkook couldn’t help himself. He reached up and unfastened the rest of the buttons, pushing his shirt past his shoulders and exposing more of his body to your nails. His nipples were already hard. You pinched one and made him yelp. The result was instant, rippling throughout his body, even making his cock jolt against your hand, smearing pre-cum onto your wrist.

You collected saliva on the edges of your teeth.

Leaned in and placed the flat of your tongue onto his shivering collarbone, leaking spit down his pecs.

“O-Oh my god…”

Closer.

You kept a hold onto his cock until your skirt was pressed up in between his thighs, and then let go. There was an audible, visceral smack of his thick length hitting the pleather against your thighs. He moaned deeply. You grabbed him by the hair and pulled, relishing in his groan of discomfort, and pressed up against his aching body, thrusting your tongue forcefully into his mouth.

You made sure the blindfold was in place.

His hips bucked, desperate for friction, and you kissed him roughly, demandingly, uncaring to his plight and him grinding his balls into the hem of your skirt. Your other hand slid down the nape of his neck, scratching up his back too as you tongue-fucked him. Your lipstick smeared all over his lips, a blue-scarlet dark as blood.

You pulled back, wiping the back of your hand over your back and seeing red.

Then you wrapped your hands around his throat and closed in on his blood supply.

“Touch yourself.”

Jungkook gasped, whined, and reached for his abused cock, slowly stroking the length as you toyed with his blood flow. Tighter. Letting him have a breath before pressing on the sides of his neck once again, and from your shoulder blades the prickling began, a nebulous want surfacing as you choked him and watched him stumble towards orgasm. Closer. The pad of his thumb grazed over the dripping opening of the head and his entire body flinched, writhing, his Adam’s apple straining against the underside of your thumb.

You released him and dove down.

Almost burned your knees from your speed. It required an almost uncomfortable folding of your body, but none of that mattered as you descended, closer and closer, your tongue cupping the tip and sliding down. Immediately, Jungkook removed his hand, letting out a string of nonsensical moans that only intensified as your teeth closed in around the shaft. Deliberate, pulsing pressure. His cock throbbed in response, relishing in the attention as his familiar heavy scent penetrated your throat.

Possessiveness laced int your veins as you tasted him.

You forced your head down and took him all the way to the base. One hand on his thigh and the other locked around his balls. You pulled. You squeezed. You raked your nails over that soft, supple skin, and sucked him off in deep, expansive thrusts, filling your mouth over and over again. Until your muscles strained. Until your body shook with tension. Until he was half-crying, half-groaning to the ceiling, vibrating in your mouth. He came. You swallowed. And kept going. His body twisted and he begged to be let go and you ignored him, coaxing his softening cock to swell again. Despite your knees protesting, you kept going until you could tell he was about to orgasm again, and you pulled back.

Silent.

Wrapped your hand around his jerking, spit-covered cock, and pumped him hard. Intense. He was falling apart, shaking his head from side-to-side, and thrust his hips into your hand. You did not stop him. He came again, and cum began to pool, so you pressed his length back and let him continue, the hot milky streak streaming down your fingers. It was clearly uncomfortable.

He did not complain.

You closed the distance as his head lolled back, whispering to his face as you casually wiped your wet hand onto his shuddering chest.

“Something for you to keep close to your heart as you work for me.”

With the same hand you gripped him by the hair, stilling him, tasting his erratic breath, and you found yourself entranced. Strands of black stuck to his forehead and against the leather blindfold. His cheeks flushed pink with effort, hollowing slightly with each heavy pant. His lips swollen and covered in red lipstick. His tan skin gleaming with sweat. The muscles of his neck and chest tensed, reddened from your scratches, and he was.

Was…?

You opened your mouth, but all you could think was how beautiful and perfect he looked just like this.

You released him and caught his jaw with your palms, pulling him towards you.

“I am your only one. Don’t you dare desire anyone but me,” you hissed, and then kissed him deeply, suffocating any response he had.

“Open this fucking door!”

He didn’t bother using his knuckles. Min Yoongi used the heel of his palm, slamming it against the heavy wood door. The zippers of his leather jacket flapped with weighty clinks. The security guard behind him bristled. They hadn’t wanted to let him in. He hadn’t cared. He growled under his breath and narrowed his eyes, glaring over his shoulder.

“Fuck off.”

Despite his professionalism, the guard let some of his distaste show in his face. It quickly disappeared, but Yoongi flung his arm anyway, making him take a step back.

“I told you to fuck off,” he snapped. “Let me talk to my sister alone, prick.”

There was some hesitation, and then the guard stepped away with his line of vision travelling upwards. Yoongi’s eyes followed, seeing the round lens of a small camera perched high above. He snorted. Instead of bowing to him as one would to the other guests, the guard simply kept his eyes on him as he backed up, as if Yoongi was a delinquent off the street and not a filthy rich grown man. Asshole. He quickly turned back around, his messy dark orange hair swinging by his eyes. He didn’t care about that. Under the leather jacket, he wore a white t-shirt with a monochrome graffiti print and torn slate-blue jeans. A suitcase of his stuff had appeared after the first night. He hadn’t questioned it. It was obvious his stepsister had brought it somehow. He kicked the door with his black boot in frustration and was disappointed that he hadn’t left a dent.

It opened.

There was a faint click and the heavy wood swung open so fast that Yoongi stumbled back, surprised at the abruptness, and then the stern glare of his stepsister was directed right at him.

An icy itch skittered down his spine, prickling at his vertebrae.

She was backlit from the back wall of windows. The sun was lowering, turning her outline a ghostly orange. The sleeves of her gunmetal silk blouse were folded back to her elbows. Her sharp eyes glanced past him, presumably to the retreating back of the security guard. Her tight pleather pencil skirt caught the light, accentuating her hips. But what Yoongi noticed was her face. Her smokey eye makeup was intact.

Her lips, although flushed dark mauve, were bare.

Her hair was swept up, but there was something off about it. As if the intentionally messy strands framing her face were not intentional after all.

“Hello, brother.”

Her voice was crisp. Almost icy. His brows furrowed. She smiled at him, with the same hospitality as a snake would greet a rat.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Yoongi hissed.

She did not invite him into the office. He could see the grand room behind her. Dark wallpapered walls, large solid wood desk, high backed black leather chair. Locked cabinets along the walls. He didn’t know what they were for and he didn’t care.

Her eyebrow raised. “Working. I assume you’re familiar with the concept.”

He scowled. "Why do you even bother working? Your mother put you up to this?"

A hostility darkened over her features so quickly that he involuntarily flinched, preparing for her to strike him. But it was gone as soon as he saw it, causing him to question if it was ever there at all. She answered him with a small, soulless smile.

"People depend on me for their livelihood."

He snorted in disbelief.

His stepsister’s gaze sharpened.

"I am immoral, not unjust," she coldly stated, dropping the façade.

Before Yoongi could say anything more, he noticed the looming darkness falling into her shadow. Recognition burned through him like hot fire.

“You,” he spat, locking eyes with those black-brown ones looking down at him from under the black cap. He knew that face. From the hotel room back then. Sharp jaw, broad chest, younger than him, and the disapproving look of seeing something he would rather not. “You bastard. The fuck you doing here?”

A flutter of satisfaction gleamed from those shaded eyes.

“He works for me.”

For some reason, intense anger flared through his ribs, seeping into the depths. Oh, he heard what she said. Yoongi glanced from his stepsister to the security guard. She regarded him with head held high. Unfazed. The guard stood behind her, but there was a possessiveness in his stance. Hands behind his back. Yoongi slowly looked back to her.

Inhaled.

A whiff of her sharp, decadent perfume.

And sex.

Yoongi curled his hands into fists.

He had spent days in her condo. Sleeping away the daylight and rising at night. Tangling his fingers into her hair, pulling her down to his level, his blunt nails carving half-moons into her skin. Constantly seeing the black paintings on the walls while knowing what was behind them. Somewhere between dying and living, feeling like shit when he was alone and losing himself in aching bliss of her tightness. And now this. This. Right in front of his face. The rage seared tension into his muscles, the bites and bruises on his skin still tingling with soreness, and the corner of the guard’s lips raised, so slightly that maybe Yoongi was imagining it, but nonetheless the snarl in his chest bubbled upwards.

His hand shot out and grabbed her shoulder, yanking hard to push her aside as he raised his other fist to the face of the man behind her.

She let go of the door and caught his hand in the air, stopping him.

He put his shoulder into it but his stepsister dug her stiletto heel into the hardwood floor and shoved back against him, knocking him out of the momentum. Yoongi whipped his head to her, so fast that his hair lashed him in the cheekbone.

Her lips pursed. “You hit him; he sues me for workplace violence.” She moved slightly more in front of the guard, blocking Yoongi’s path. “Don’t make trouble.”

He stared at her.

And suddenly it hit him all at once. All those times his father not only directly beat him down, but every snide remark that chipped away at his wholeness. Every adult in his life seeing him as a hopeless problem, polite enough to not piss off his father but otherwise ignoring his existence, feeding his inner worthlessness with every avoided eye contact, every step back, every look the other way. And then, her. Her, flitting just out of his father’s grip. Her, sending those sneaking glimpses his way and making him uncomfortable with the attention. Her, whispering against his lips, hot and alluring, so stop yourself, her, coiling around him in the dark, soft skin, lush hips, wicked tongue all around him, her, his stepsister he now knew that was tortured by nightmares from a past that would kill most people. And now Yoongi in front of her, her pointed stare slicing through him as she stood in front of this other man, both of them reeking of sex, and the only one inherently wrong was himself.

The sun was sinking fast. Night bled into the red-orange sky, turning it purple and bruised.

Don’t make trouble.

She might as well have driven a hot knife in between his ribs, right into his beating heart, and twisted it.

Yoongi took a step back, his expression frozen into indifference.

Something changed in her face.

But he didn’t spare any time to figure it out. Yoongi simply turned, and did what he did best. It was how it always was, in the end. It was what it always was. Pointless. Pointless to fight against everything his father said he was. Not aiming high enough. Never good enough. A disgrace. He could not outrun his fate, but Yoongi did what he did best and he ran, ran down the hall, down all those stairs, out of the building, onto the streets, into the bleeding sunset with a sinking void in his chest and blurred wetness stinging at the edges of his vision.

He ran.

He had asked before if she was fucking that security guard. She said that she was. At the time, he hadn’t thought he cared. He didn’t. It was futile to give a shit. She was a whore. He always said she was a whore. It would be easier if she was a whore. But he saw the way she stood in front of that man, even if she didn’t notice. He saw the way that guard stoically stayed in her shadow, protecting something he couldn’t.

Never could.

Min Yoongi ran and ran and ran until his legs collapsed.

masterpost

#bts smut #yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #yoongi smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #yoongi x you #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #misfit toys au

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yoonieper · 3 months ago

Text

For the Birds— Part 4 | JJK

I want you to stay even though you don’t want me.

♡ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (feat. Yuri)

♡ Genre: angst, smut, future fluff!

♡ Rated: R for Regret

♡ Series Warnings: Lots of smut (not always healthy), cheating, discussions of depression, this series includes Jk in a pretty toxic environment, degradation (not the sexy kind), manipulation, and overall Jk being in an emotionally abusive situation!

♡ Chapter Warnings: panic attack, lots of bad self-deprecating thoughts, repressed Jungkook makes an appearance once again, masturbation (m + f), use protection (!!!), public sex, oral (m + f receiving), koo is a bj virgin, fingering, unprotected sex (be smart!)

♡ Word Count: 37.9k

♡ Summary: As the son of the CEO at Golden Tech, a marriage was arranged in the name of business. Jungkook really tried to make the most of his situation and be the best husband he could be, but no matter how much he tried, his wife just doesn’t seem to want him. Then you… you came into his life and his eyes couldn’t help but wander.

♡ Now Playing: Liquor by Chris Brown— see masterlist for playlist!

♡ Betas: Thank you so much to @illyrian-book-lover and @mellowladyanchor for reading this part for me! If you’re interested in betaing a future part, dm me! If you're interested in becoming a permanent beta for this series please first click here and refer to 'details about the job' section for more details and dm for any questions you might have! Betas get early access to chapters, so if you're free to help out and can't wait for next chapter, consider joining the team!!!

♡ Author’s Note: I started this thinking it was going to be one of the shortest chapters but 😀 Hehehehehe anyway, get cozy, get some snacks, maybe something nice and warm to drink as well, and enjoy my friends!

No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much : D

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It was still too early for him; the sun was barely peeking over the skyline. Businesses were just beginning to flip their signs to open, the sounds of the city were growing louder by the minute— only a soft murmur in the restful city background, and daily menus were just now beginning to be set outside for the few passersby who were walking the streets this early morning.

It was in these initial hours on the first day of November that Min Yoongi arrived at his office. He had an iced Americano firmly grasped in his hand despite the chilly temperature outside. He always preferred the drink in its cooler state, no matter the weather, to quickly wake him up in the morning. It worked enough to get him here, but never as much as he needed it to.

He yawned as the elevator slowly rode up to the floor his office resided on. He still had a few hours before his first appointment, but Yoongi always came early to do menial tasks like office bills or general prep work for appointments. He didn’t have too much to do today, but some important documents he’d been putting off were calling his name.

His eyes lazily drifted over to Secretary Kim’s desk, as they always did, ready to say a brisk “good morning” before heading into his office until the time neared his first appointment.

Yoongi was so out of it this morning. He and Heran were up all night with their little Bora. They both figured more of her baby teeth were coming in and that’s what’s been making their daughter so fussy these days. Heran especially had been a little worried after their third all-nighter, but Yoongi was quick to notice the little bumps in her gums upon further inspection, indicating she was likely just teething. It had been a rough few nights, last night especially, but eventually he was able to get her to fall asleep in his arms after he let his wife go back to bed.

He languidly glanced over at Secretary Kim ready to wave, but her wide eyes quickly caught his attention as she discreetly pointed toward the waiting area. He wasn’t expecting anyone this early but lo and behold was the man he hadn’t seen in seven months.

His big, round eyes were instantly recognizable as they stared up at him when he noticed Yoongi standing there. This was certainly unexpected. He definitely didn’t have Jeon Jungkook booked today.

“Mr. Jeon! What a surprise!” Yoongi smiled as he walked over to him.

Jungkook stood up, and Yoongi took particular interest in the way he shakily shifted his weight from one side to the other. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days and Yoongi could immediately tell something was wrong.

“Hi— I’m sorry for barging in so suddenly like this…” Yoongi could hear the strain in his voice.

“No issue at all, my door is always open.” He smiled but Yoongi hoped he got the point. His door was always open, no matter what the issue might be.

“I— I um… I wanted to talk to you— and… I can come back later if you’re busy, but—” Jungkook seemed fidgety and could hardly look at the doctor, the floor seeming to hold his attention more than Yoongi’s concerned gaze.

Alarm bells were going off in his head. Normally he didn’t take walk-ins like this, but when the circumstances seemed dire, like in today's case, someone’s well-being was always more important than anything else. Something clearly wasn’t right with him, and he still had a few more hours until his first appointment anyway. No harm in this at all.

Yoongi glanced over to his secretary and they both shared the same worried expression before he guided Jungkook toward the door to his office.

It had been seven months since he’d seen him, but Yoongi could instantly tell Jungkook seemed different. As he turned on the lights in his office that fact became more clear. Since the time that they had last seen each other, Jungkook evidently looked more tired, the dark circles around his eyes were prominent, but he did a good job of hiding it in the way his hair had grown to hang lowly over his eyes. Yoongi also thought he seemed paler, like he hadn’t seen the sun in weeks, and he could have sworn his round face had grown more gaunt as well.

Yoongi had hoped that the couple’s absence after their last session meant that good things had come between them. Despite only having one session, he thought that maybe the glaring problems of their relationship had become apparent, and now that they were in the open, they had found themselves on a path to a happy and healthy relationship.

Yoongi wished this meeting had been a reunion of sorts, that Jungkook was coming to visit just to thank him for the session, or to simply catch up, or even just coming to ask for more advice in the long journey of building up their relationship. Any sort of sign, really, to indicate that they were working on the distressing issues in their marriage and that progress had been made in the seven months since they last saw each other.

Unfortunately, Jungkook’s appearance alone was enough to show his optimism had been in vain. And to make matters even more concerning, as soon as Yoongi shut the door behind them, he watched Jungkook haphazardly stumble over and collapse on the couch.

Yoongi hurriedly joined him by his side, his worry soaring to even greater heights seeing Jungkook desperately tangle his fingers through his hair. His grip on the strands was so firm that Yoongi feared he’d pull out the tresses threaded in his grasp. Sitting this close now, he could smell that Jungkook had been drinking, probably excessively too. It wasn’t looking good; time had not been kind to him. If anything, things seemed worse.

His soft whimpers slowly began to fill the growing silence.

“Jungkook…?” Yoongi asked gently as he placed a hand on his back.

“I’m s—sorry… so sorry. I should have called befo—before I came, I’m so sorry.” If it wasn’t already evident in his voice, Yoongi could see his hands in his hair were shaking.

“Like I said before, my door is always open. Did something happen?” Yoongi was trying to be calm, but the memories of their last session came flooding back in a rush and his mind raced with the possibilities of what had made him so frantic.

The question just seemed to make things worse, and like in their last session, Yoongi feared Jungkook was on the verge of another panic attack. Jungkook’s sobs became louder and his breathing grew more shallow with each breath he took.

“Deep breaths, take your time,” Yoongi reassured, gently rubbing circles on his back. Jungkook quickly seemed to listen and tried his best to focus on the doctor’s words.

“Yuri— I—” Jungkook finally released the death grip on his hair and leaned back on the couch, letting his tears flow down his cheeks.

“I cheated on my wife last night.” It was like he had practiced saying this with how clear it was despite the shakiness in his voice. The statement seemed to linger in the air as Yoongi processed his words. He tried not to show his immediate shock at the statement. From what he could remember from the last time he spoke with Jungkook, this was a pretty big deal, which could explain the distress.

“I wish I was coming here to— to tell you how bad I felt about doing it, but—” Jungkook’s lip started to quiver. “I was up all night and I couldn’t stop thinking about it— I should feel bad, I want to feel bad, but…” More tears rolled down his cheeks.

“It just felt so good.”

The confession made it all too real as he looked at the doctor. It made him feel even more like a monster.

Jungkook had spent the night trying to make himself feel bad about his time with you. He’d wandered around the apartment looking at all the pictures littered on the tables and walls of him and Yuri, hoping that would spark fond feelings of their relationship.

If someone visiting their apartment saw the plethora of photos they have sprinkled around the place, it would seem like the couple shared many memories together. But just like their entire relationship, it was merely an illusion.

When they first moved in Yuri had taken on the majority of the work decorating their apartment. She had an eye for interior design. Aside from modeling, she was quite passionate and knowledgeable about the subject— it’s what she originally went to school for before she was scouted and modeling became her main priority.

The place mainly reflected her taste, but she’d ask Jungkook his opinions occasionally on some of her ideas, and he was pretty easy-going, so he just let her have her fun. He also knew how much she enjoyed it, it was one of the things he’d learned on their honeymoon when she confessed her ambition to open her own business someday. It was important to her, and it honestly warmed his heart to see how passionate she was decorating their new home together.

Right before they officially moved in, Yuri had signed them up for a bunch of photo shoots to help fill in the relatively empty picture frames around the apartment. The only memories they had were of their wedding, honeymoon, and a couple of pictures from their dates before they were engaged. Memories, yes, but certainly not enough for a couple who decided to take a leap of faith and get married so young.

Professional photoshoots with the photographer she shot with regularly were a weekly occurrence for about a month. Jungkook had cherished this time since he was still trying to process how uncomfortable things had become after they came back from their honeymoon. That was really the only time they would speak to each other and things weren’t awkward.

Jungkook had hoped that just being in the apartment would remind him of his marriage and ignite the shame that he had just committed a horrible sin, one that could have gotten him killed a couple of centuries ago. And yet, as Jungkook stood there trying to reminisce about all of their fond memories, he was also trying his best to ignore the way his length pleaded for you all over again.

Pathetic… more than that really.

He’d finally grabbed a beer out of the fridge at some point, hoping at the very least he could stop thinking about you and maybe try and get some sleep before he needed to go to work in the morning. The beer didn’t help, it never did. Rather it made his guilt, or his lack thereof, echo even louder.

Jungkook had looked to Dr. Min with the hope that he would be a voice of reason, a slap to the face to make him feel the mortification he should right now.

Jungkook stared at the doctor, just waiting for the look of disgust he was hoping for. He wanted someone to tell him how insane he sounded, how much of a terrible person he was for it. Instead, he couldn’t read the look on the doctor’s face as the words started to process in his mind. It made him that much more anxious. He wanted an immediate reaction, he wanted Dr. Min to scream at him if he had to, but instead, he just looked off in the distance as he never once stopped his gentle massage across his back.

“What makes you say that?” Dr. Min finally asked after the silence started to linger for a little too long.

“I didn’t know— know it could feel that good.” Jungkook’s body instantly reacted to the mention of last night— this morning really. It hadn’t been that long. It was all so clear and got even more so the more he tried not to think about it.

“And what makes you say that?” Dr. Min repeated with a gentle smile on his face.

Jungkook was being vague. Yoongi had a feeling this was a common occurrence, but those details truly mattered right now.

“You don’t have to get explicit, it's just— If I’m recounting correctly, I know the last time we spoke you mentioned that you didn’t have much experience besides Yuri. What was it like then, stepping outside of your relationship?” Yoongi clarified, noticing Jungkook seemed a little confused.

Jungkook turned away as his mind traveled back to early this morning… you, your lips, your hands, your skirt bunched around your waist.

“She touched me.” The words just slipped out of his mouth without much thought. “No one ever did that before.” At least the way you had. As delusional as it was, for a split second he felt wanted, like someone actually craved him as badly as he did for them. It was nonsense, Jungkook just happened to be blessed that night by your unwavering kindness even to someone as pathetic as him in a moment of weakness. But still, he knew something felt different about last night.

Yoongi hummed, remembering that the topic had come up in their session.

“To be honest… Now that I think about it, I never really enjoyed it that much beforehand.” Jungkook stared off into the distance, coming to a revelation that he was aware of but never fully articulated until now.

“Sex?” Yoongi put it bluntly, making Jungkook’s face flush slightly.

He shyly nodded.

“I thought I did. I liked it when she just acknowledged my existence, it would make my day. I wanted anything from her really, but I think when it came to being intimate it just made me feel…” A word bounced around in his head, a sour word he knew spoke true to his feelings whenever he was with Yuri, yet it never materialized enough to explain to the doctor. After a while Jungkook just sighed and gave up, deciding to continue. “I think I just wanted her close. I wanted Yuri to want me, and I feel like that’s when I felt it the most. I craved it so much that I bet I seemed pathetic, but even then, I don’t think I really enjoyed it— not in the same way at least.” Jungkook struggled to fully articulate what he was trying to say, and just hoped Dr. Min could get the picture.

Yuri never touched him like that. She hardly touched him at all. Jungkook had always craved affection, but he’d never known how much he would truly enjoy it until now.

“I’m hopeless, aren’t I…?” This would normally have been a moment he would have tried to laugh at, but his heart hurt so much, he went back to crying.

Why didn’t he feel guilty?

“Jungkook, look… Can I be honest with you for a second?” Yoongi eventually said. He seemed serious.

Jungkook looked over at the doctor, ready for the slap to the face he came for.

“I’m trying to look at this situation as objectively as I can. It’s been a while since we talked and I never really got Yuri’s side when I wanted to speak to you both one-on-one. As much as I probably shouldn’t, I think this is a situation where I need to take my therapist hat off and approach this like I’m just your friend giving you my two cents. Can I do that?” Yoongi asked before he continued.

Jungkook steadily nodded.

Yoongi took a deep breath and one good look at Jungkook before continuing. “You don’t look good.” His words were blunt, but he had a look of genuine concern on his face.

Jungkook’s eyes widened, not at all expecting that to be what he was going to say.

“You look like shit if I’m being honest.” Yoongi reiterated, wanting to be even more straightforward. As hurtful as it might sound, it was the truth. He didn’t even know Jungkook that well and he could clearly see the last few months had not been kind to him. It might have been different if he had no inclination as to why that might be the case, but considering what they’ve discussed so far, plus the fact that he’d briefly met his wife, he already knew a problem he could help advise on. Hopefully a bit of no-nonsense advice might set him on the right path.

“I’ve seen all types of couples come in through those doors, and many more before I got my own office. I’ve helped couples rekindle their relationships that were in horrendous conditions. Some were just minor issues that they needed help mediating and talking through. Others… I’ll be honest and say I’m surprised they even worked out. No relationship is perfect, but as long as there’s love, there’s hope. You and Yuri are a special case. You both never had those feelings at any point of your relationship that I could help remind you of.”

Yoongi had spent some time after Jungkook’s last session contemplating the best advice he could give to a couple who had never properly loved each other. Helping them was basically asking them to build a relationship from scratch, a mission Jungkook seemed dead set on doing, and it might have been possible if their relationship didn’t hold such animosity.

The way Yuri acted in the one session he met her in was honestly unacceptable. Her words were said out of spite, not out of hurt, or even in hopes of betterment— she just wanted to make it hurt as much as possible. Hostile relationships weren’t a foreign subject to him, but it was clear by Jungkook’s panic attack that what he saw probably didn’t even scratch the surface of their relationship behind closed doors.

Yoongi would help anyone who came through his doors, but when he suspected someone was causing more harm than good, and not even trying to make things work, there was little he could do. Being even more honest with himself, he didn’t want to help them. Toxic relationships aren’t good for anyone’s well-being, and it went against the very reason he became a therapist to encourage Jungkook to “stick it out” and hope things get better.

This wasn’t even just toxic…

Jungkook looked like he got hit by a bus, and then it backed up, ran over him again, backed up, and just kept repeating the cycle to make sure they got him. He did not look good, and although he didn’t know Jungkook all that well and there could be many things in his life that might be causing his mental break, he could never forget his face as Yuri spewed those harsh words at him.

What he did know was that she certainly wasn’t helping.

“You and Yuri… I don’t think your relationship is healthy to continue— not now at the very least. I think you need some time to regain your footing before even entertaining the idea of having healthy discussions about your relationship. I never thought I’d say this, but I think the affair could be a good thing for you in some way. Hopefully it might get you to think more about your relationship with your wife and could aid in the overall discussion on whether it should continue.” It was certainly strange hearing that out of the doctor’s mouth. Never in a million years did Jungkook expect that when he came over.

“The fact that you’re telling me you didn’t really enjoy sex in general until last night, that you only wanted it as a way to get close to Yuri… I mean, I hope you know that’s not good.” Yoongi laid it out plainly, hoping he would see the issue.

Jungkook stared down at the ground, seemingly lost in thought. “But it’s all my fault…”

“Jungkook—”

“It’s my fault, everything is. If I was better— fuck, and here I am cheating on her— I— I—” The tears started spilling past his eyes, and Yoongi could tell Jungkook was seconds away from a breakdown.

His hands quickly tangled in his hair, but even with the dark locks in the way Yoongi could still see the way they shook. His breathing grew more shallow, and it was obvious he wasn’t listening to him anymore.

Yoongi quickly leaned over and wrapped an arm around him.

“Take deep breaths for me.” Yoongi softly instructed, but things got worse before they got better.

He wasn’t entirely surprised this was happening, Jungkook seemed off since the moment he first said hello. Things had since escalated, but he feared this attack had started long before he stepped back into his office.

Jungkook seemed panicked realizing that this was happening again. He was almost hyperventilating at this point, but Yoongi was there just like the last time. Jungkook looked at him for help with tears in his eyes and Yoongi made sure he held his gaze as he started taking calm, deep breaths, hoping Jungkook would mirror him.

It was bad, really bad actually. Yoongi was starting to worry Jungkook might pass out, but eventually he was able to catch his breath enough so he could participate in the breathing exercises.

“I’m— I’m so sorry— I’m so—so sorry!” Yoongi was shocked Jungkook was able to talk at all, but unsurprised that he was back to apologizing for something he didn’t need too.

This, this is exactly why Yoongi truly believed their relationship was beyond saving at this point. This wasn’t just a rough patch, and even the word toxic didn’t feel like it was enough either. Abuse— emotional abuse— Jungkook was showing similar symptoms to those he’s treated who came from situations where their partner was verbally abusive, degrading them every day to the point they saw little value in themselves anymore. But this was a huge accusation, one Yoongi didn’t want to share with Jungkook just yet. He didn’t know Yuri or the situation enough to throw that term at her, but Yoongi just knew this relationship was not good for Jungkook in the slightest.

He eventually managed to calm Jungkook down enough to repeat the phrase he told him last time while he went to get him some water.

“It’s okay not to be okay.” Cleverly handpicked from the title of the popular Netflix show many of his patients were familiar with.

Jungkook had calmed down for the most part. They both sat in silence— Jungkook’s soft whines occasionally filled the space along with the crinkling of the water bottle he held tightly in his grasp. It honestly hurt to watch him like this. It’s not like he knew the guy all that well, but Yoongi was always quick to get attached to anyone he looked after… and something about Jungkook reminded him of a stray puppy he found on the street. It was sick and injured, and Yoongi wanted nothing more than to take it home and nurse it back to health. Now, Jungkook wasn’t a stray puppy by any means, but from the meetings they shared he held the same innocence and fragility you might look at a puppy with. He was so broken, young, and had so much going for him still.

It wasn’t even Jungkook’s fault that he ended up in this situation, a crazy expectation was placed on him at a young age in a world that seemed so foreign to the doctor. Yoongi might not understand it, but he couldn’t just sit back and watch Jungkook essentially give up and spiral further and further into a hole he might not eventually be able to pull himself out of.

“You don’t have to answer this if you’re not comfortable; I’m just curious… Who was it with?” The question seemed to linger in the air for a long time. At first, Yoongi thought Jungkook just wasn’t in a talking mood anymore, or maybe he needed to clarify, but eventually he answered.

“She works at Golden Tech… we stayed late last night working on things and…” Jungkook trailed off, letting the silence speak louder than he could.

Yoongi nodded his head, getting the picture. “Was it just a spur of the moment thing or…?” he continued.

Jungkook was quiet for a little while, but eventually, he shook his head as a few tears trickled down his cheeks.

“No… yes… maybe…? I had been thinking about her for a while and… it had been so long since Yuri and I… you know…? We had a fight that morning because of it and… I don’t know, I think I had a breakdown. She was there for me and so warm and—” Jungkook had to stop himself abruptly knowing how strange that sounded. It made him think back to his time with you in his office. His face flushed at the recollection, and Yoongi smiled at him.

“It’s alright. She sounds nice if she was there for you like that. How long have you thought about this?”

“It’s been years— probably since she started working at the company.” Jungkook felt himself getting choked up at the shame of it all. “It got worse as time went on and I saw more of her— it’s one of the reasons I booked Yuri and I for therapy back then— she was in my head too much.”

Interesting.

“Do you have feelings for her?” Another blunt question from the doctor that Jungkook was certainly unprepared for. What he said was so off the wall that it warranted a spit-take like he was in some sitcom. He was left completely unable to process the words that spilled from Dr. Min’s mouth. The question honestly warranted an even more dramatic response.

“W-What?!” Jungkook stared at the doctor.

“You heard me.” Yoongi was both joking and incredibly serious. Feelings would change the whole story.

“It’s not like that,” Jungkook stated confidently. “I was just desperate, and I’m very married. It was just a mistake, a fluke.” He echoed your words from last night. You were right after all.

“A fluke? But didn’t you come in here saying you couldn’t stop thinking about it?” Yoongi pointed out.

Jungkook suddenly got very quiet.

“Okay Jungkook, I’m going to need you to listen very carefully to what I’m about to say— you can do that, right?” Yoongi put his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder to get him to look him in the eye. He hated eye contact, it just made him flustered, but he would do anything to ensure Jungkook was paying attention.

“In all my years as a couples therapist I never thought I’d say this, but I think taking some time apart from Yuri to go out and live your own life might be the best option to go from here. I think you’re not in the right headspace yet to have a productive conversation with her about the issues in your relationship— I think you could use some time apart to clear your head and get your thoughts in order.”

Blunt, the doctor wasn’t beating around the bush at all.

“You need to take some time for yourself and make sure you’re okay before prioritizing your relationship. You’re still so young, you got married really young— I feel like it’s hard to even have those conversations with Yuri when you might not even be sure what you want in the first place. That’s not your fault, but you deserve to take some time for yourself to figure it out.”

Yoongi was still working on how to navigate his own marriage and he specialized in the field. Managing a relationship with the newly added challenge of parenthood was a territory he’d only covered with clients in the past, but experiencing it personally was a completely different story. Even he was still learning to deal with the big change in him and his wife’s life. He couldn’t imagine going through all the challenges of marriage when he was twenty-six, let alone twenty-two. That certainly would have spelled disaster.

“I think these issues run deeper than what I could help you with in couples therapy, and honestly Jungkook, I recommend taking some time to evaluate if your relationship is something you want to continue. I don’t know what happens behind closed doors, so I don’t want to overstep, but I’m seeing a lot of red flags in the way Yuri treats you. No relationship should have you feeling like this, and at the very least, I think some time apart will help you get some perspective and communicate this to her.”

Jungkook continued to stare at him with wide eyes, and Yoongi just hoped he was listening.

“Removing yourself entirely I think should be the first step— focusing on yourself, doing the things you like, and spending time with people who make you feel happy and appreciated would be good for you. It would hopefully help get you back on your feet. However, I know this situation is still complicated.”

“You should tell Yuri what happened last night, your feelings about it, why it happened, etcetera… I know it will be hard, and I can’t tell you what her reaction to this might be, but it’s in the past now, and honesty is the least you can offer her at this point.” Despite his mixed feelings toward Yuri, he still didn’t condone cheating. He’d been on the other side of that story before, and going behind someone’s back and lying might honestly be worse than the act itself.

“It will give her the chance to make her own decision about the future of your relationship. If she doesn’t end things right then and there and doesn’t mention it already, you should say that you need a little space. You can say this was my idea if you have to. But for your sake Jungkook, and for the sake of your relationship, I think you should take a step back so you can have the opportunity to learn and explore exactly what you want moving forward.” This seemed like the only path Jungkook could take at this point. He didn’t know how Yuri would react to this considering they never truly had a relationship, but if she still wanted to work things out, Jungkook needed some time away from her to hopefully give him a chance to be in a better mental state. Then maybe they could have a proper conversation about the future of their relationship.

Yoongi had only turned away for a second during his closing statement, but it was enough that when he looked back, Jungkook’s eyes had fluttered closed, and he looked like he was about three seconds away from dozing off.

��Jungkook, did you hear me?” Yoongi shook him lightly, making Jungkook jolt awake.

“Yes— sorry! Sorry, sorry— fuck, I’m so sorry!” Jungkook was apologizing once again, and Yoongi already felt bad.

“I just, sorry— I hardly slept last night or the night before… I’m running on three hours of sleep from two days ago.” Jungkook tried to laugh it off as he rubbed his tired eyes, but having this moment of calm after everything that’s happened was enough for the need to sleep to overwhelm him.

Yoongi softly rubbed his back again. “You know that’s not good, right?”

“I know, and I have this big meeting later— I’m doomed.” In that instant, the haziness of sleep had clouded his brain. He couldn’t think straight, and he had to present at the meeting later along with you… Jungkook didn’t notice Yoongi’s concerned gaze as he tried to wake himself up.

“You did hear me earlier, right?” Yoongi asked again.

“I did…” He wasn’t lying. His eyes might have closed at some point, but he was taking in every word the entire time.

“What will you do next then?”

“I don’t know.” It was a lot. Too much was happening and he was too tired to really think about what he should do right now.

Yoongi nodded. “It’s a lot, I understand. I just want to make sure you’ll think about what I said.”

Jungkook looked over and Yoongi could see how quickly his eyes had grown red. He looked like he could pass out at any moment.

“I will.”

Yoongi watched Jungkook rub his eyes before he tried to open them up. It looked like it was taking everything in him to keep them open. “Jungkook, maybe you should take a nap before you head out again.” Yoongi suddenly said.

Jungkook blinked a couple of times before turning toward the doctor. “Huh?”

“You can sleep on the couch. I don’t have my first appointment till 12:30, so you can stay here until then.” It was a generous offer, and one he wouldn’t normally make, but he felt it was necessary given Jungkook’s condition.

“That’s really nice of you, but I have work I need to—”

“Mmm, you don’t think your work will be affected if you haven’t slept right in the last 48 hours?” Yoongi interrupted.

Jungkook was about to say something, but the more he thought about it and his eyes continued to sting, the more he knew the doctor was right. Truth be told, Jungkook doesn't sleep much these days anyway. He was busy as it was, but almost any time he got in bed, his head would be swimming with so many thoughts it took forever to fall asleep. However, even then, these last two days had definitely taken a toll on him. If it was any other day, he would have insisted he needed to get back to work, but really, he just had to be there for the meeting later; any other work could be handled at a different point if need be. The doctor was right as well— how could he get anything done like this? Even walking seemed like an impossible task.

“You’d really let me stay?” Jungkook’s voice was soft, but Yoongi noticed he sounded surprised.

“Of course. Rest up.” Yoongi gave him a slight smile before standing up. “I’ll just be over at my desk doing a little work. I won’t be loud.”

Jungkook stared up at Dr. Min with tears in his eyes. He could hardly believe anyone was being this nice to him, let alone after he admitted to cheating on his wife. The doctor didn’t notice, or if he did, he didn’t say anything as he moved over to his desk.

Jungkook quickly whipped out his phone, and after a bit of scrolling, found the person he needed to call. All it took was a few rings for him to answer.

“Hyung…” Jungkook was groggy and hoarse from all the crying. Just the thought of sleep alone was enough to wear him down even more.

“Jungkook? Where are you?” Jimin’s concerned voice was heard on the other end.

“Doesn’t matter— just… I wanted to tell you to let everyone know who might be looking for me, that I’m going to be a little late today.”

“Late? What about the meeting later?” Jimin exclaimed, a little baffled. Of all the days to be late…

“I’ll be there. If Y/n asks—” There it was, the person he tried not to think about at all.

Jimin noticed the pause. “Jungkook?”

“Uh, if Y/n asks where I am, tell her I’ll be there an hour beforehand so we can do our final preparations.” Seeing you again… he was really not looking forward to seeing you again.

“Jungkook…”

He rubbed his sleepy eyes, but nothing he did made them any easier to keep open. “Yes?”

“What’s going on? Why are you going to be late?” Jimin was concerned. Despite the awkwardness that had settled between the pair, Jimin never once stopped worrying about him.

“I just— I didn’t get much sleep last night.” It wasn’t a lie necessarily, but he definitely wasn’t going to tell him the whole truth. He couldn’t tell Jimin just how awful he had become.

There was silence over the line for a little while. Maybe Jimin was expecting Jungkook to continue and elaborate further, but then realized that was all the information he was going to get out of him.

“I see… sleep well then, and try to get here as soon as you can. Things have been pretty hectic today.” Jimin pointed out.

Jungkook lazily chuckled. “They’re hectic everyday these days.” Q4s were always so busy.

Jimin laughed as well. “Alright, see you later then.”

“Bye, hyung.” And with that, Jungkook clicked off the call.

He didn’t notice, but a warm smile had settled on Yoongi’s face. He didn’t have to know who he called, he could tell they were close.

“You seriously don’t mind me staying here? I’ve been told I snore…” Jungkook’s face flushed at the mention of it. Yuri would sometimes kick him awake if he got too loud.

“Sleep!” Yoongi called out as he started looking through his computer.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jungkook sheepishly take off his shoes before grabbing the blanket draped over the couch. He laid down, and it probably wasn’t even two minutes later that Yoongi knew he’d actually fallen asleep. He lightly chuckled to himself before getting started on the work he set out to do. It wasn’t much, but he did come early just to make sure he got it done so he wouldn’t get home too late.

To be honest, Yoongi hardly noticed Jungkook was even there at all. It just felt like the times he’d be working at home and Heran would be passed out on the couch with their daughter sleeping in her arms. But Jungkook wasn’t lying earlier; he did snore. It wasn’t anything too obnoxious, but occasionally Yoongi was reminded someone was in fact in the room with him. Even then, he hardly noticed— again, it was just like home.

Cute.

Jungkook was truly out cold. Last night was overwhelming. First, the whole situation with you sent him spiraling, and then his quest to make himself feel bad about it proved to be a harder task than it should have been.

No matter what good memory he recounted of him and Yuri last night, the thought of you on his desk was like a massive tidal wave that washed any attempts he made to remember his wife back to sea. In truth, he spent more of the night trying not to give into temptation than the thought of any guilt about his actions. He'd already betrayed Yuri enough; relieving the ache for some reason that was a line he couldn’t cross.

These thoughts created a horrible cycle in his mind of “you just cheated on your wife” to then “but it just felt so good” to “but you know how disappointed Yuri would be if you do that” to “but it felt so fucking good” to “you’re an actual piece of shit, you deserve feeling like this.” It had his head spinning.

He was tired and tried downing a beer so he could quickly pass out and he wouldn’t have to think about it anymore. But then Yuri came home— 5:35am on the dot.

She looked good, so good, even with most of the lights off. Yuri had changed from her off-the-shoulder, black, sweater dress into something more relaxing— a cozy black hoodie and gray sweatpants. Yuri was also carrying the tote she used for short excursions that weren’t overnight, but far enough to come back at a time like this— she had to go to and from Busan today. She must have been so tired, and he’d spent the night cheating on her.

Jungkook had been so out of it. He was drunk, very drunk, and he was so tired, but he just couldn’t fall asleep. Maybe he would have reacted better seeing her, but his whole body felt numb when she noticed he was sitting at the dining table.

This would have been the time for him to get on his knees and beg for her forgiveness, but instead he just continued to sit there.

Yuri hurriedly walked over and despite how much the room was spinning, he could tell by her footsteps she was mad.

“Jungkook, are you drunk?!” She exclaimed, but the words were hazy in his mind. The question was redundant, all the empty beer bottles on the table would have given her the answer.

“Yuri… I’msorry.” His words slurred. He bet he looked pathetic. He hasn’t gotten drunk in front of her that often. He never wanted her to see that side of him, or rather, how that other side might act if she did.

The silence lingered in the apartment for a little and maybe if the lights were on, she would have seen his lip quivering before she heard his sobs.

“I’m sorry.” His sad attempt at an apology rang in the air. “I’m so sorry, so sorry, sorry. I’m—”

“What is wrong with you?” She honestly sounded baffled. Through the haziness of it all, he recognized that she likely had no idea what he was talking about.

There were so many things he could be apologizing for, yesterday morning was a great example. Maybe that’s what she thought he was talking about. Or maybe it was the fact that he was drunk. There were just so many things, but cheating on her probably wasn’t where her immediate train of thought went.

“I’m sorry!” He just sobbed out, an apology not for cheating on her necessarily, but because he couldn’t find it in himself to feel bad about it.

Yuri had no idea what was going on, and it was so late. “Get yourself together, please. It’s too late for this and I’m too tired to try and understand you. I’m going to bed and you better figure this out before joining me.” Yuri just sighed, slinging her bag over her shoulder once again before walking off toward their bedroom. The fact she even offered to share the bed was astonishing. He deserved less than the couch at this point.

With Yuri here, it made it all too real how badly he had betrayed her. They were meant to be playing the part of a happily married couple, they were meant to be a happily married couple, but he let his own selfish desires get in the way and now that dream was shattered. Why couldn’t he have just waited? All he ever wanted was to be a good husband to her and yet he couldn’t even bring himself to feel bad about the night he shared with you. He’d cheated and still couldn’t stop thinking with his dick for more than two seconds, instead overwhelmed by the way his whole body hadn’t stopped tingling since he helped you off his desk. He never deserved forgiveness. Horrible. He couldn’t go any lower than this.

He was too drunk to remember when the shaking began, or when it got hard to breathe, but he knew he had to listen to your advice. He needed to talk to someone, now.

Jungkook had looked up when Dr. Min’s office opened, and he was at the door shortly after the secretary got there. She had given him those same sad eyes she did before he left the last time when she saw him stumble into the office.

“Dr. Min will be here shortly…” she had assured him. She could probably see how on edge he was.

To be honest, the whole night was a blur at this point. One minute he was at the dining table, the next he was calling Dae-Jung (who was kind enough to pick him up, despite the early hour and how his words slurred together on the phone), then he was in Dr. Min’s office. It felt like time was passing by without him.

Jungkook never checked the time to know when he fell asleep, but when he felt the gentle touch of Dr. Min letting him know it was time to get up, he knew he hadn’t slept long enough. Just opening his eyes was a task that seemed too much to overcome. He needed eight hours, probably more at this point. He honestly felt worse after waking up than he did before he fell asleep. He hoped it was just the grogginess needing to wear off, but the sounds of amusement from the doctor he eventually realized was sitting on the table right in front of him, were not the best received.

“You might want to fix your hair.” Yoongi chuckled lightly, seeing the long strands sticking up in different directions.

Cute.

His head hurt, his eyes hurt, and he wanted to go back to sleep so badly.

It certainly looked that way from Yoongi’s perspective as well. Jungkook had this grumpy look on his face as he steadily tried to sit up, and his eyes just barely fluttered open so he could see they were slightly red.

“Do you feel better?” Yoongi asked, and Jungkook quickly shook his head.

“I’m not surprised. You really need to get more sleep… If you can, you should take the rest of the day off after your meeting. Give yourself the day to try and get yourself back together.” He suggested. “Doctor’s orders.”

The thought was tempting. The main task he had to complete today was the meeting. Everything else, as far as he knew, could be handled later. But he already hadn’t shown up to work this morning, what would everyone think? What might they be saying right now? Just the thought of anyone thinking he was slacking off made the idea seem selfish.

Jungkook didn’t say anything though, as he tried to muster up any energy he had regained to get up from the couch.

“Oh, and before I forget—” Suddenly Jungkook felt a small piece of paper in his hand. It took a minute for him to realize what it was, but it was similar to the one Yoongi gave him after his last session.

“Please make sure to visit him this time. I may be a therapist as well, but I think he’d be much better to talk to about your individual needs.” Yoongi was almost pleading.

Kim Namjoon. Right, he forgot to do that last time.

“Talk to him please, but if you ever need someone else to just chat with unofficially, you can stop by the office at any time or call me if you need to. You have my work phone, but at the bottom of the note I wrote my personal number.” If Jungkook was a patient, this probably would have been crossing a line, but he hasn’t been an official client since his last session back in April.

This was all unofficial, and it would continue to stay that way until things improved enough that alarm bells wouldn’t go off anytime he saw Jungkook. For some reason, he doubted that would happen anytime soon, at least as long as he was with Yuri.

Yoongi made Jungkook agree to book an appointment soon, and said he’d check up with Namjoon to make sure he fulfilled his promise. They also promised to talk again soon as Jungkook started fixing himself up before heading out.

He was still slightly hungover, but the water he drank earlier helped ease things a little, so the headache wasn’t as bad as what it could be considering how much he imbibed last night.

It wasn’t long before Jungkook was getting a text from his driver that he was outside. 11:43am— an hour and twenty until the meeting and less than twenty minutes till he promised to meet you. He had to hurry and pray the traffic wasn’t bad, he still had to head home to shower and change….

With a swift goodbye, Jungkook was slinging his suit jacket and coat on before heading downstairs.

•────•──────────•────•

The meeting went okay. It was mainly thanks to you though. You were a great presenter, and things all went relatively how you both had planned. But Jungkook could have done better— he hadn’t even needed to talk much, but maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the hangover, or the massive wall of anxiety he practically slammed into that made things so difficult.

Jungkook had given presentations before, many times actually, and while he was always a little nervous, most of it would go away the minute he got up there and he was able to say what he needed to say to get his point across. For some reason, his anxiety was almost crippling this time.

Jungkook had hardly thought about the presentation. So much shit had been happening it had almost been an afterthought. But while he was practicing with you, he was not prepared for the jitters he got as time drew nearer for the executives to come in.

It was even worse when it was actually time. He stood up there with you and he couldn’t stop shaking. The eyes of the executives were too much. It felt like that nightmare all over again. It was like they knew what he did, how terrible and incapable he was, and how he deserved how shitty his life had turned out.

Somehow he was able to cover all the points he needed to, but the shakiness in his voice was embarrassing, and he nearly had a breakdown when he saw their confused expressions staring back at him. He felt bad, so bad actually, because he was ruining this for you.

And you… Jungkook didn’t know what to do seeing you again. As soon as he walked into the meeting room, he was filled with disgust, but also wanted nothing more than to pull you close once more. It was horrible.

You looked so good too, you always did. Your light blue turtleneck was neatly tucked into your white skirt, your signature lipstick was back on display, and your hair was styled nicely as it always was. You were so polished, a completely different look to how he dropped you off last night. And you looked amazing either way in his opinion.

But things were awkward, very awkward as you started your preparations. And to make matters worse, you were mad at him, or at the very least it was obvious you didn’t want to be around him when he finally made it to the meeting room. He saw it for a split second after he walked through the door and you made eye contact. It was a silent moment when you both acknowledged the night before, a moment you both realized that last night had in fact happened— but you were far quicker to move on from it, choosing to stick to the promise made to put the whole thing behind you.

Last night was a mistake, a fluke. It shouldn’t have happened.

The doctor was right that things would be different if feelings were involved, but last night was nothing more than sex. He was horny, sad, and you just happened to be there…. If you both acknowledged it then it would become something, something more than it needed to be. He was married, you were his coworker, and that’s how it needed to stay.

But still, for a moment he wanted to say something. He wanted it to be something, because as much as he knew he needed to try and push past this, last night was still on his mind. Dr. Min didn’t help either. He thought he would give him the slap in the face he needed, but his words stuck to him.

What he wanted? Why did it matter what he wanted? He was the one who needed to fix this, he was the one who messed up. But for some reason anytime he thought about it you would pop into his head. You had been just a taste of the things he hadn’t discovered, and like a veil finally being lifted from his eyes, he could finally see how immense the world he lived in was. But you were forbidden, a fruit he couldn’t have, one he shouldn’t want. All he had was a taste and he wanted more. He wanted you in all the ways possible and to explore a side of himself he didn’t know existed until he was with you that night. The only experience he had was with Yuri, and he barely explored his sexuality outside of his relationship— Yuri making up 95% of his sexual experience and 100% of his relationship experience. He knew he was an amateur going into his marriage, but he never knew sex could feel that good.

He wanted Yuri, he wanted his wife, he wanted to be her husband, but as much as he kept telling himself that, the doctor’s words were back in his head once again and that side he was ashamed of would come out. He wanted you, and it was worse this time— instead of his imagination fueling his fantasy, he had an actual memory to look back on. The more he thought about it, the more the doctor’s words rang in his head.

Would the best thing for his and Yuri’s relationship really be a break from each other? How did that make sense at all? How would he ever fix the mess he made if he wasn’t with her? And then to tell her about the affair? That was just a straight ticket to divorce and failure. The amount of people that would be let down if they knew what he did… it just didn’t make sense.

He had to fix this. He had to fix this. Failure wasn’t an option.

•────•──────────•────•

The next few days weren’t any better. Somehow, it got worse.

He thought things would be awkward for a little while, but eventually you both would fall back into your routine. He thought the memory of that night would fade, and you would just become his coworker again. That mistake, that fluke, it would be like it never happened.

But it did, and he couldn’t forget it. It seemed to be the only thing he could think about these days: your lips, your hands, your body, how it felt to have you right there on his desk.

It should have been a mistake, it should have been a fluke, Jungkook should have been trying his very hardest to push that night out of his mind, to pretend that it didn’t happen, but…

Sometimes he’d think about it too much. His mind betrayed him first and then his body would follow soon after. It seemed to happen every time he was alone. In the shower, in his office, in the gym, there was even this one time you assisted some of the managers with a presentation and he nearly lost his mind trying to keep it together. He completely forgot how to act like a normal person around you. Anytime you were in the same vicinity, the awkward conversations you used to share had downgraded to just standing there and staring at you like an idiot. He didn’t know what to say around you, how to make things go back to the small, awkward, yet friendly conversations you both would share whenever you saw each other in these last few weeks since you’d been promoted.

He was a mess, and his mind and thoughts were muddled by a growing need that just got worse as the days passed. Each time he’d plead for his body to listen to him, to forget about that night so he could focus on Yuri again. There were too many times he had to fight every force of nature to stop himself from giving in. Tears would stream down his face as he thought about you, Yuri, and tried his best not to reach down his pants and fix it.

He never thought it could get any worse than what he went through during those ten months of torture, but in just a matter of days you had him more needy than he knew what to do with.

Yesterday, two days after he had you on his desk, he tried to get Yuri to help him, but he should have known better. Jungkook had been in the shower with tears in his eyes as he looked down and saw what thinking about you did to him. He was trying so hard to be good for Yuri. He’d already betrayed her once, and he didn’t want to do it again, but it hurt so much.

In desperation, he quickly got out of the shower and went to Yuri who was lying peacefully on their bed, scrolling through her phone. Jungkook had tried to be subtle as he got in beside her, his hair was still damp and all. He scooted close and wrapped his arms around her waist. As soon as he was close enough she could feel it, he knew she could. Tears immediately welled up in his eyes all over again when he noticed her confusion before her realization of what was happening. This wasn’t as innocent as pulling her close because he wanted to cuddle, no, his perverse intentions couldn’t have been more clear.

He felt like a monster.

“Jungk—”

“Help— help me— please…” He quietly sobbed into her shoulder. His hips felt like they had a mind of their own, and he started grinding into the flimsy fabric of her shorts.

It was a desperate plea so he could forget about you and finally move on. He wanted Yuri to make him remember that she was his wife, he was her husband, and you were nothing more than his coworker. He would have taken anything, really. He would have done anything to make him forget.

For a moment, she didn’t say anything, she let him have his fun. He was such a mess— his hand slowly ran under her tank top feeling her warm skin while he practically fucked her with their clothes still on. As more time passed, the more he lost himself in the pleasure. He didn’t need long at all; he just wanted it to stop hurting… anything to stop hurting.

His breathy sighs of pleasure filled the room in between the sound of the sheets shifting underneath him. There was a moment he thought Yuri would let him have this, after all, she still thought that it’d been ten months since he’d had the sweet bliss of release. But of course, he was too greedy.

“Yuri…” He sighed in hopes that would be enough to engage her, because even now he was picturing you on his desk. His hand came up to tug lightly on the waistband of her shorts. Two minutes tops and he could forget it all, get his priorities straight, and you were nothing to him again.

“Jungkook, stop! What the fuck are you doing?!” Yuri finally snapped as she turned around to face him. But even then, he still didn’t stop entirely. It was just enough to get him to slow down.

“Please— please— Yuri!” He cried because it hurt so much, and you just wouldn’t leave him alone.

Yuri was quick at gaining the upper hand, and she was on top of him just like that day. She had his hands pinned down and was sitting right where he needed her.

“What is going on with you these days?!” She was disappointed, and he was too. She was right; what had gotten into him? Jungkook just sobbed because it still hurt.

“Help…” He begged like it meant anything. Maybe if he had told her right then and there about the affair she would have assisted. Maybe, or maybe not, but maybe that was what it would take for him to focus on her again. But just like the day this whole mess started, she seemed completely uninterested in helping him.

“No.” She didn’t beat around the bush whatsoever, and maybe on a different occasion, he would have appreciated the honesty instead of leading him on to the point he was a whimpering mess underneath her. It just hurt too much.

Jungkook slightly shifted his hips— it was just enough to elicit a breathy moan from his lips and for the shame he felt all over to wash away in a second.

Yuri looked down at him questionably, he normally wasn’t like this at all.

“If you won’t help, then can I at least— can I fix this myself?” Jungkook looked up at her with pleading eyes.

“Wha—”

“You’re probably tired. You’ve been really busy these days, and I’m sorry I bothered you, but—” Tears slipped down his cheeks as he subtly tried grinding into her a little harder. “I can’t wait. It hurts so much, Yuri— please can I fix this myself…” Jungkook never thought he’d reach this type of low.

First the affair, and now he was begging just because he couldn’t keep himself together long enough to wait until she needed him too. He couldn’t even imagine the disappointment she must be experiencing. Her eyes said as much before she even spoke.

“You can’t keep it together?” Her tone was low, and though Jungkook could sense she was mad, to his messed-up brain it was just more fuel to the fire of desire that was raging out of control at this point. It was hot.

He hurriedly shook his head.

“I feel like I might lose it just from you sitting on my lap.” He cried, tears streaming down his face because that wasn’t an exaggeration at all. He felt so bad. Why was he so pathetic? But at the same time, why couldn’t she see his desperation? He just wanted the chance to be with his wife, the person he should be with instead of his coworker in the middle of the night, at his job, right on the desk he worked on.

Suddenly, Yuri chuckled as she looked down at him. She leaned down so her lips hovered over his cheek. He wished she didn’t have his hands pinned down so he could have tried to push her to meet his lips, but she kept moving up so her mouth was right by his ear.

This angle… Jungkook wished she was wearing one of those tank tops today. The view would have been amazing.

“You really can’t keep it together, huh?” Yuri said again, right into his ear, and he very well could have lost it right then and there.

“No…” He sobbed.

Yuri pulled back slightly so she could look him in the eye.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you Jungkook, or whatever has gotten into that thick skull of yours, but I’m going to need whatever it is out immediately. You operate on my time, you wait until I’m ready. The fact that you can’t do that is just pathetic. I don’t care if it’s been months, I don’t understand how you think begging will do anything— a good fucking husband would know how to wait.” Every syllable was filled with the disappointment and malice he knew he deserved.

His heart wrenched at every word.

“I just— I just didn’t want to make a mistake— I’m sorry.” Jungkook was bawling at this point, his voice shaking uncontrollably. His face was probably red and soaking wet from how much he was crying. But he was lying right through his teeth. He’d already made a mistake, a horrible, terrible one. She had every right to never forgive him if she ever found out. It had only been a few days since he had you on his desk, and even after he had gone to such lengths to quell the ache of the last ten months, in just two days, he was in an even worse state than before.

“A mistake?” She laughed.

“You’re the mistake— agreeing to get married to you was the mistake. I don’t ask much from you, yet you just keep disappointing me. I don’t even know why I still try to do this.” Her grip on his wrists had tightened so much it was starting to hurt. With the look in her eyes, Jungkook felt numb at this point. He wanted to apologize, but he couldn’t speak. Even if he could utter an apology, it would never be enough for the pain he’s caused her. Every word was true. Yuri was always right.

“But nevertheless, here I am. I don’t want to fight with you today Jungkook. All I ask is that you’ll wait, and until then…” Yuri’s hand let go of his wrist and started tracing from his jaw, down to his neck, over the expanse of his sweater, and eventually settled on the waistband of his shorts. She roughly pulled it before letting go, the pain of the elastic slapping back to his burning skin made an uncontrollable moan leave his lips before he could stop it. His head was spinning, he couldn’t keep up with what was happening anymore, and it was almost overwhelming.

“Stay away from me.” Her voice had grown soft, sultry almost, as she stared at him.

Jungkook felt almost crazed as the tears kept spilling from his eyes, her words loudly echoing through his head, but he was still hard, and he didn’t know what hurt more at this point. He was shaking and had the intense urge to run away and hide from the world, but he wanted nothing more than for Yuri to touch him more. It was selfish and disgusting, he just couldn’t get any worse.

With a hand now free, Jungkook suddenly found the strength to change the position. But before he realized what he was doing, Yuri was underneath him.

“Don’t do that, please.” Jungkook sighed, the position making his body instantly react, but his heart hurt too much to even attempt anything again. “I’ll leave you alone, I just want to make you happy— I’ll do anything, I hope you know that, but just… don’t make this hard for me, please.” Jungkook begged through his teary gaze.

“I’m sorry I want you all the time, but when you touch me like that… I’m weak, you said it yourself.” He tried to laugh through the pain, but he was starting to feel shaky again.

“I just want to be a good husband, but I’m bad at this, so… just…” He was starting to get so choked up that it was hard to speak. “Just… just… just…” Jungkook buried himself in her neck so she wouldn’t have to see how pathetic he was right now.

In the moment he missed you and how you comforted him that night; your hands across his back, your gentle touches that made him feel warm all over. He didn’t deserve it— not then, not now… but he still missed it.

“Go easy on me, please.” He couldn’t believe he had the audacity to say this like they haven’t been married for nearly four years. He’d run out of chances at this point. He should know by now what she likes and doesn’t. Even though they hadn’t spent that much time together, Jungkook knew before he walked out of the bathroom that she wouldn’t like this, that she'd get upset, yet he still tried anyway, hoping she might put him out of his misery.

There was no hope for him at this point. How Yuri hadn’t given up on him entirely was astounding.

“Jungkook, get off of me and stop fucking crying, that shit gets annoying after the billionth time.” Yuri groaned, already feeling her neck starting to get soaked.

He really missed you— even though he didn’t deserve it, but you made him feel so good. He wished he was back to that Tuesday, the day he cried in your arms and took you right there on his desk. He missed you so much.

Jungkook quickly got off of Yuri and the bed entirely. He hastily started making his way to the bathroom once again.

“You better stop that before you—” He didn’t slam the door in her face, but Jungkook was in too much of a rush to let her finish.

With the outside world finally shut out, Jungkook turned on the light, and from where he was standing at the door, he could see himself in the mirror. He was a mess, he looked like shit. His face was red and puffy, his face stained with tears that just kept falling from his eyes, and because he wasn’t wearing any underwear, the prominent outline of the very reason he got himself into this situation was embarrassingly obvious.

Jungkook hated what he saw, so he quickly turned the lights back off. In the darkness, all he could picture was you once again. That night, your soft warmth, your sympathetic gaze. Why did you look at him like that? Why didn’t you see what Yuri did? But he didn’t want to think about that right now, how much his heart ached, or how his mind cried out to the void to end the pain because he was just making his wife miserable. No. Instead, the memory of you on his desk was too vivid. He could practically still feel you wrapped around him, your hands on his skin, your lips on his lips, he couldn’t forget it. He didn’t want to.

Tears spilled from his eyes faster than his hand found its way into his shorts. He hesitated for only a second. Yuri was right outside, and this was so wrong. He’d just disappoint her even more than he already has. As shameful as it was, that hesitation only lasted for a second before he hurriedly had his fingers wrapped around his length as he steadily started pumping his needy cock.

“I’m— so sorry!” Jungkook cried out as quietly as he could. Just one big disappointment. But you, your lips, your hands— fuck, your hands. Your fingers through his hair, your nails down his back, your hand around his cock. It never felt like that before. Jungkook didn’t know it could feel like that— sex never felt like that. Not with his first, not with Yuri, but you… you… why couldn’t he stop thinking about you?

Jungkook hurriedly brought his hand over his mouth, the memories of when he used to do this returning all too quickly. He’d always wished Yuri would touch him, but that was selfish. The fact that she was even spending time with him should be enough. Yet you had touched him, and he didn’t even have to ask? You were strange, but as selfish as it might sound, he liked it.

Jungkook let himself slide down the door, the pleasure his hand was bringing made his knees weak. As much as he wanted to deny it, he wanted you again. He wished you were here right now to help ease the ache in both places. Would you, considering everything that had happened?

Jungkook hurriedly tried to shake those thoughts out of his head. No, you were back on his desk in his office. You noticed he was upset and came over to comfort him and make him feel better in any way you could. Your lips were on his, he was kissing you again and—

Fuck.

Jungkook briskly let go to quickly spit in his hand before hastily going back to fisting his length. Faster, he needed to make himself cum as fast as possible. The shakes were getting worse. He felt horrible, a failure, a disappointment, every flick just made him feel so fucking disgusted in himself, but it hurt too much to stop.

You on his desk, how it felt to have your hand wrapped around him, how it felt to be inside you—

There it is.

Jungkook let his mind reminisce in as much detail as he could remember. How it felt to finally be inside you, the sounds you made, how wet, tight, and warm you were— so fucking good. He wanted you again so badly, it should be criminal. He was married and he already messed up once, yet he couldn’t stop thinking about it— you on the desk, your fucking sweet pussy wrapped around his aching length.

Close, he was getting close.

Jungkook brought his other hand up to tightly hold it against his mouth once more. His moans were getting too loud and he feared Yuri would hear. He tried to speed it up even more. All he needed was a little longer.

You, your hands, your lips, your warmth, your bunched-up skirt, your thigh-highs, your panties, your red lipstick smearing across his face. Oh. So close.

And then, at last, the feeling deep down inside growing and growing until he finally spilled inside of you—

…

Wait… what?

Jungkook’s eyes suddenly shot open, the haunting darkness of the bathroom now an unwelcoming sight. An immediate, deep, visceral sense of panic and dread sunk in as he racked his brain in hopes he was overreacting or misremembering.

Jungkook had tried to push the memories of that night as far away as possible over the last few days, but now that he was thinking about it properly…

That day… you both hadn’t used protection.

It’s not like he walked around with condoms, he had no need, but…

Suddenly the ache that seemed deafening became just a muffled, dull, fuzzy noise in the background as this realization dawned on him.

How? How did he not realize you hadn’t used protection? No matter how needy he was with Yuri, he was always so careful in the rare times they went all the way. How did he fucking forget?!

Jungkook suddenly had the urge to run into a wall and hoped he would never wake up again. This entire week had already turned out to be one horrible nightmare. But as if his life wasn’t shitty enough before, suddenly it took a whole new turn.

The shaking came back and was worse than ever. He was at a point where he was sure he would scream his lungs out, but Yuri would hate the noise. Jungkook felt dazed, the realization was the quickest way to kill the mood, and the fastest he’d ever lost a boner.

After a while, he somehow found the strength to stand up again and open the door to the bedroom. Yuri had turned off the lights here too. The only light coming in was from the few that were turned on in the hallway and Yuri’s phone playing some type of video. It also didn’t take long for him to see that she had fallen asleep.

For a split second, he was sad she wasn’t awake. He needed someone to talk to, even if that involved telling her about the affair. He felt like he was seconds away from losing his mind. He probably already had at this point. How could he fucking forget protection?!

Despite his shakiness, Jungkook went over to Yuri’s side— the right if you were facing the bed— and walked over to turn off her phone.

She had a makeup ASMR video playing. Those always helped her sleep and she said she could learn a few things from them while she was awake. As gently as he could, he also took out her headphones and set them on the nightstand. His hands had been shaking so badly that he could hardly pause the video for her.

But as Jungkook made his way to his side— the left— the weight of his actions became even more unbearable.

Jungkook lifted the covers and got in bed, laying face down on the pillow. The fabric was soaked by his tears in a matter of seconds.

How could things just keep getting worse?

•────•──────────•────•

You knew it would be awkward when you came into work. It was inevitable, considering what things were like the last time you saw each other. However, for your sake and Jungkook’s, you tried your best to ignore what had transpired and move on with your life, but that was easier said than done.

The minute Jungkook dropped you off and you made it back up to your apartment, you were stuck in place as soon as you closed the door behind you. Time felt like it stood still and nothing around you moved, like space itself had stopped in order to greet you with an agonizing silence. It was to taunt you and let the thoughts of what you had just done fester, quickly gnawing away at your sense of self and your very being, leaving you to question the type of person you thought you were for your entire life. You couldn’t move, trying to process everything that happened. This couldn’t be real, right?

This was Jeon Jungkook we’re talking about— the Jeon Jungkook who was the son of the CEO at the company you work at.

You pinched your arm so many times you were sure it was going to bruise in your attempt to wake yourself up. You were probably still fast asleep in your cozy bed, stuck in a dream that just wouldn’t end. Your sexual frustration had somehow managed to manifest into you dreaming about your late night meet-up with your boss ending with you sleeping together. All would be fine in the morning except for the fact you’d have to look him in the eye, knowing what your brain had conjured up the night before. It was embarrassing, but that honestly made more sense than everything being real and this night actually happening.

You were sure you’d wake up at any moment, but your arm started to hurt, and you knew standing here probably wouldn’t do anything. You finally found the strength to move from the entryway and head to your room to start getting ready for bed. You showered, then laid down staring at your ceiling, just waiting for your eyes to shoot open and you’d see it was Tuesday, October 31st, all over again.

Nothing… nothing happened.

While the seconds ticked away, your hope was drowned out as you let your mind reminisce about what had happened earlier. The minute you opened the door, you could just see it on his face. He had looked so sad, a pain behind his eyes that made any sense of composure you maintained in front of him come crumbling down. You felt like you had to fix it. Your heart had nearly pounded out of your chest when you got close, holding your coats and his scarf. You didn’t know what you were thinking, pulling him close the way you did, but then his hands were on your waist, and— You flipped over, feeling your face grow warm.

But that didn’t help whatsoever, because it was like a floodgate had opened, and now you remembered how his lips felt against yours, his hurried hands across your burning skin, and most of all, how his… You spent nearly the entire night tossing and turning, bouncing back and forth between your guilt and shame for somehow getting yourself involved in this situation, to Jungkook and his stupid…

There was a scary part of you that was selfish, one that wished you had invited him upstairs. It had been so long since you’d been in the arms of another human being, that you forgot how much better the experience was. You’d never had sex like that before— it was desperate and emotional in a way you still couldn’t comprehend. The way Jungkook had held onto you, with tears streaming down his face, kept you close. You felt it in the way he kissed you, pleaded for you, the way he touched you. The way he touched you… it had been so long.

Your tossing and turning had stopped at some point, your fight trying to get Jeon Jungkook out of your head had been lost, hard. The ache between your legs returned before you even realized, and no matter what you did, you couldn’t stop imagining the way his body felt against yours, his fingers inside you, or the slick glides of his cock through your wetness.

It was just Jeon Jungkook no matter how hard you tried to close your eyes. You were too tired to fight against your hand traveling down into your shorts, and you nearly cried feeling how wet you were. It was a low moment, the entire night had been a low moment for you, but you let the thoughts fully consume you as your fingers glided between your soaked folds and settled on your clit, rubbing needy circles over the bud that was still a little sensitive from earlier. It was a horrible realization, but that just made your deluded self even more hot. It had been real.

You pictured him, you pictured the night you shared, you pictured the nights you didn’t share where he was just existing in your vicinity. You had no idea this part of you existed, the one where you thought Jeon Jungkook was so hot he could get you this riled up. You had known he was attractive, you had eyes, but the emotions had never let you see him like… that. The soft candle glow that had painted him so prettily, the way his sparkling eyes would look at you, how much you enjoyed the way he looked at you.

“Jungkook…” You whined with seemingly no shame. It was embarrassing, but you had never finished so fast with just your fingers. For a split second, as the bliss washed over you, you found yourself wishing he was here and questioning why of all people he had to be married. But as the high washed over you, all that was left in its wake was the starkness of shame. The guilt you felt as you tried bringing yourself back to earth. You had slept and now masturbated to a married man… Jungkook had a wife, and he was your boss. You thought you were better than this.

Your eyes had filled with tears, and you spent the rest of the night crying your eyes out because what was wrong with you? You might have just ruined a family— your boss’s family, and who knows what might happen to you career-wise if someone were to find out.

You didn’t really sleep that night; you highly doubted you even got an hour before your alarm went off, and you had to get ready. That day was awful. As you expected yesterday, both Solmi and Taehyung didn’t come into work, probably too drunk from their night of fun to realize their alarms even went off. There was some part of you that was glad they weren’t here. You had been debating all night if you should tell your close friends about your night, but their absence was enough to remind you of your words to Jungkook last night.

It was a mistake, a fluke, it shouldn’t have happened, and you wouldn’t tell another soul so you both could easily pretend like nothing occurred that night. And seeing Jeon Jungkook again…

Jimin had told you that Jungkook was going to be coming in late, and you couldn’t help the terror that spread throughout your body picturing why that might be. Your mind had drifted to the image of him on his knees begging his wife for a second chance, or maybe she’d kicked him out of the house, or maybe she was going to come after you for ruining their marriage. It felt like every scenario had run through your head by the time you had made it to the meeting room, waiting on him.

You weren’t prepared at all when you glanced up from your computer at the sound of the door opening, for you to see him again. Your eyes met from across the room, and there was a second, a painful second where your minuscule amount of hope last night had just been a horny delusion that you could simply chastise your brain for making up later, died faster than you would have wanted. You could see it in the way his brows furrowed at you as soon as he met your eyes, that you knew last night had happened.

He looked really good too… He was in a navy suit, missing a tie, instead a few buttons were undone, and his long hair messily fell around his face in a way that made him look ethereal. He looked like he had run his hands through it one too many times, yet somehow it just made him seem even more perfect. You swore you heard the pearly gates calling your name, the church bells sing, and… You wanted to scream. What were you thinking?! Immediately you decided to just try your best to ignore it, pushing him away was your only option in hoping things went back to normal— they needed to go back to normal. He had a wife, you had your career, you had to pretend it never happened.

That’s how it needed to be after all. That day was a mistake; it shouldn’t have happened. The more you pretended it was that way, the easier it would be to move past this, the more you could forget, and the quicker things would go back to normal. But deep down, when you were alone, or you’d see him again— doing that was much harder than it needed to be.

That night would come back to you in a flash. You’d wonder if he was doing okay, was he thinking about the night like you were, or were you just another girl he added to his roster of infidelity? You highly doubted it, just seeing the state he was in you didn’t think this was a normal occurrence, but who knows. There was some part of you that wanted to ask, however you had to keep your distance— at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. You knew it was a little rude to almost flat-out ignore him like that, but addressing it would create an even bigger issue. So mean, rude, standoffish Y/n it was then.

You could still feel his eyes on you anytime you were near each other. Part of you wanted to say something, but for some reason, you could never find it in yourself to tell him to stop staring. You were still mad. This whole thing made you angry and you knew your friends could sense the tension. Everyone in the office could but they probably didn’t question why. They all still thought you hated him after all.

You did… didn’t… you…? It was confusing then and ten times more confusing now. Still though, you tried to keep to yourself and ignore what happened. You thought you were doing a good job of it until you got an email that Friday.

From Director Jeon Jungkook,

can we talk??

It was informal, nothing about work was mentioned, and it was all too familiar with the Jungkook you had met during your late-night rendezvous… meeting! Yes, you were only there for one reason that night, and it was to get things ready for the budget presentation. Maybe this was his attempt at trying to be more comfortable with you. He did say all the formalities felt weird considering you were the same age. That had to be it!

As much as you wanted to delude yourself, deep down you knew whatever he emailed you for had something to do with that night.

You let him know you’d come over during your lunch break, resisting the urge to tell him you didn’t want to talk about it. But you figured it had to be at least somewhat important for him to reach out. It better be. What part of pretending nothing happened between you two did he not understand?

That’s how you found yourself making your way through the halls to Jeon Jungkook’s office. You tried to be as inconspicuous as you could, turning every corner with ease and looking around anytime you’d hear footsteps behind you. Just being in the same vicinity made you feel like someone would find out what you both did.

Your brain had rationalized that being seen together would surely be the obvious sign to everyone that you fucked your boss a few days ago. It made no sense whatsoever, you knew that, but still, you made sure to be as stealthy as you could on your way over.

You hoped no one saw you, and you were especially grateful when you passed Secretary Yu’s desk and she wasn’t there either. If you could make this quick, no one would realize you were ever here.

Staring at the door, you found your heart beating out of control at the thought of facing him again. You knew you weren’t ready for this, you probably would never be, but it was still so soon after it happened…

It took you a second, but eventually you found the strength to knock before pushing open the door.

You were greeted by a similar sight as last time. His office was almost completely dark. He had kept the lights off and closed the blinds so only a sliver of light was peering into the room through the cracks. You could only make out a vague outline, but as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you could finally make out Jungkook sitting at his desk. You could see his hands were in his hair, and the more closely you listened, the more you could hear his soft sniffles. Your first instinct was to run over to see what was going on, but you refrained as you steadily made your way over, only narrowly avoiding any furniture in the way.

“Jungkook?” You called out, your heart nearly speeding out of your chest.

“Y/n…?” His voice sounded so strained.

“Yes, it’s me.” You tried to keep your tone flat, but it wavered slightly as you got closer.

With the confirmation it was you, Jungkook reached over to the lamp on his desk and finally turned on the light. You were shocked to see how disheveled he looked once the warm glow of the lamp hit his features. His hair looked like he had run his hands through it way too many times, his eyes were shot, his face was red, and tears stained his cheeks.

Seeing him like this, it was hard to keep up your tough exterior. You quickly made your way over to his desk, keeping a notable distance between you two— standing behind the chairs sitting in front of his desk. You feared what might happen if you got any closer.

“Um, you asked to speak with me.” This is how you’d usually talk whenever he’d call you to his office. Part of you was still holding onto the hope that this was just work related.

You watched as a whole new wave of emotion seemingly hit Jungkook, fresh tears falling from his eyes as his hands returned to his hair.

“I—um— I know we said we weren’t going to talk about that night, but… um—” Jungkook tried his best to be firm about this, but his whole world felt like it was coming down. He couldn’t sleep last night thinking about having this conversation with you, and now that you were here, it all felt too real.

“… I don’t remember using protection that night.” Jungkook was only able to meet your gaze for a second, long enough to see the look of shock on your face.

A whole new wave of guilt washed over him. This was all his fault.

“I know I didn’t have condoms with me, and unless you did and I didn’t realize you put one on, then…” Jungkook looked like he was pleading with you to tell him he forgot, that he was just so out of it he didn’t realize you had put one on some time in between. He had no reason to carry any with him personally. It’s not like he was expecting Yuri to fuck him in a place where he’d need to have them on him at all times— hell, they hardly used the condoms they kept at the apartment. Jungkook had never even managed to make it through a whole box without needing to replace them first because they’d expired.

Still though, they were always so careful whenever they had sex. Jungkook spent the entire night mind-boggled at how he could have been so careless with you. And now, because he couldn’t control himself, there was a chance he might have ruined both of your lives. His own life was already shit, but now he might be bringing you down with him. He already had, but somehow the pit only grew deeper.

You sighed at the question— slightly relieved this was going to be easy to answer.

“Don’t worry.” You remained apathetic, not exactly the emotional breakdown he expected considering the gravity of the situation. All night Jungkook had pictured that the minute he’d tell you, you would scream and curse at him for being so careless. It was almost uncanny how calm you were in comparison. You used the exact same tone whenever you’d talk to him about work, in the office when you had a quick question, or in front of the prying eyes of your nosy coworkers, like it was the most nonchalant thing ever.

While your words were soothing, he couldn’t calm down quite yet.

“I’m on birth control, so as long as you’re clean we should be fine.” It took a minute for your words to register, but an immediate flush came to his cheeks. He completely forgot about birth control or that ever being a possibility of the invisible contraceptive he had prayed all night for. He felt even more embarrassed that he hadn’t considered you had some type of plan that night. Of course, you were smart, you wouldn’t let someone so pathetic ruin your life.

You watched his face, and you were honestly delighted to see a slight look of relief quickly settle over his soft, saddened features. You tried your best to hide it.

“Oh— I’m sorry. Of course you thought about it— good. We should be good then.” His voice was shaky, and while his words said one thing, he still seemed stressed for some reason as his hands were quickly back in his hair.

Again, you had to resist the urge to ask him if he was ok. Distance, you had to keep this boundary up. You needed to get out of here.

“If you’re concerned about the other issue, I’ll make sure to pick up a morning-after pill or something on my way home just to ensure we’re fine,” you added, and he slowly nodded. Honestly, even if he hadn't said yes, you probably would have gone anyway just to be safe. You should have done it sooner, but you completely forgot about that detail while trying to push Tuesday out of your mind.

“It’s up to you…” He mumbled, but he still seemed off. You had to get out of here.

“If that’s all then, I’ll be on my way sir—” You bowed, trying to be as polite as possible, before turning around and heading for the door.

“Wait!” You couldn’t even take two steps before he was calling you back. You visibly tensed up as you slowly turned around. You were greeted with his shiny brown eyes finally meeting your own for the first time since you walked in. Suddenly you felt your knees start getting weak. There was no reason for him to look at you like that.

“Don’t leave… that’s not all I wanted to say…” You could see in the way he looked at you that this was going to be the conversation you feared when you walked in. You resisted the urge to mention that you both agreed not to speak about it, but instead you just crossed your arms, ready to listen.

“I— um… I owe you a major apology…” He stumbled and his hands were back in his hair.

“That night— I don’t know what was wrong with me— it shouldn’t have happened, you were right.” He stopped for a second, and you wondered what he was trying to get at. What more was there to say? It really shouldn’t have happened.

“But…” Jungkook’s voice wavered as he looked up at you. “I’m even more sorry that despite how wrong I know it was I—” he took a deep breath “I can’t stop thinking about that night.” He truly felt bad. Here he was, trying his best to put his mistake behind him, yet all it did was fill his thoughts. Where was the guilt? Why wasn’t he so ashamed that just the thought of you was enough to remind him of what he’d done?

He saw your hard expression falter for a second, but it was back before he even realized. Jungkook felt like he was at his wits end. Everything was crashing down, and he didn’t have much to lose at this point.

“And now all I can think about is…” tears quickly filled his eyes knowing what he was about to say “— how I want to do it again so, so badly… it had never felt that good before.” It was a sad, deep, dark confession that he hated as soon as it came out of his mouth. Admitting it was nice was one thing, but wanting to do it again was another.

Maybe you could excuse that night as a one-time thing— he was a mess, you both had some wine, and shit happened before you both could even realize. It was nonsense, Jungkook didn’t drink nearly enough to say he was acting against his own volition, and it wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision either. He had thought about having you against every surface in the office before anything actually happened. He’d wanted you nearly as long as you’d worked here.

Jungkook finally had to look away from you as his words settled in the air.

“Jungkook… you know what continuing, even just acknowledging what happened— you know what that would mean…?” You were honestly baffled and you hated the way your heart nearly beat out of your chest at the mention of it.

“Yes.” It was so quiet, and with the faint glow of his lamp you could see a new wave of tears start running down his cheeks.

“That night— it was all my fault...” His voice was shaky just thinking about it.

“I told you that I’m in an arranged marriage and that things are rough right now… it’s my fault, everything is my fault.” It certainly was.

“Despite the circumstances we got married in, we both agreed to try to make our relationship work, and I’ve just kept messing things up no matter how hard I tried to make her happy.” It’s been nearly four years and he could probably count on one hand the number of times he’d made her smile.

“She hates me, and I don’t blame her at all— I honestly deserve it and more.” He deserved far worse at this point.

“Why would your wife hate you?” You couldn’t help but ask, but you regretted it as soon as it left your mouth. The fact you had somehow found yourself in this situation proved that something wasn’t right. But the question had bounced around in your head for the past few days, wondering what might be splitting the couple to the point Jungkook sought you out for relief.

He looked at you for a split second. “I don’t know how to be a good husband. No matter what I do, I don’t know how to make her happy like I should.” He attested with a level of pain in his voice that you weren’t prepared for.

“Jungkook…” You were speechless… a deep, unsettling, uneasy feeling spread throughout your body as you listened. You had zero insight into the situation, but despite everything, it felt wrong to hear him be so down on himself. It was heartbreaking to listen to.

“I don’t think you deserve to be hated—” You tried to console, but Jungkook stopped you before you could finish.

“No… she deserves a better husband— a different one— someone who can make her happy, and I should just… just disappear— I can’t do anything right.” He tried to laugh but it just came out like a pained sob. It wasn’t funny and he couldn’t even pretend to laugh at that anymore.

“Jungkook—” You called out again, but he stopped you in your tracks.

“I hope you believe me when I say that that night was the first time something like that happened.” His shiny eyes looked up at you again, and you could have broken down right then and there. The pain, you could see it so clearly.

“I despise cheating and the fact that— that— that night happened, I just—” He couldn’t be more disappointed in himself. He’d forever tainted his marriage, just like his parents had done.

Even if Yuri never found out, the fear of her somehow discovering what he did one day… the guilt would kill him. Their anniversary was coming up in a few months— how could he look her in the eyes and relive the moments of their wedding day knowing he betrayed their vows, her trust, knowing that she had every reason to leave him?

Maybe one day he could finally get his shit together and Yuri could love him the way he’d always dreamed, but that would all come crashing down one day when she somehow found out what he did.

Jungkook at least thought he was above that. The one thing he knew he could promise Yuri was that he’d always be by her side, faithfully and earnestly, yet he’d found a way to fuck that up too.

There really was no happy ending for him, was there?

“I’m sorry— it shouldn’t have happened, and I feel horrible bringing you into my mess.”

You wanted to say that you were equally to blame, but Jungkook was faster.

“And— and I just… I’m sorry— we agreed to try and move on from this but I just can’t stop thinking about you and that night and—” It wasn’t even funny how much he thought about you. Right before you walked in, he had the lights off to hide his shame because even in the middle of what he thought was a crisis, all he could think about was you on his desk. And seeing you now standing in front of him…

“I’m sorry…” Jungkook just cried. He really didn’t have the words to describe how he felt right now.

“I spoke to a therapist about it.” Jungkook could instantly see the slight panic on your face at the mention of him telling someone about this. “I took your advice from that night about talking to someone. I really wasn’t in a good place at all, and if I hadn’t, I think I might have gone crazy. He was supposed to help me and Yuri with the issues in our marriage, but he’s helped me with more than just my relationship. Don’t worry. Yuri won’t find out.” Jungkook had full trust that the doctor wouldn’t tell Yuri about the affair. Even though their conversation wasn’t protected by doctor-patient confidentiality, he still knew the doctor wouldn’t say anything. He was expecting that Jungkook was going to tell her on his own time.

You were a little taken aback by the news, but your memory of that night was clear. You knew when you parted ways that he really didn’t seem okay. The fact that it was a therapist he confided in made you relax a little.

“I went to him for a slap on the face, but instead he said— he said I should consider stepping away from Yuri for a little while and take the time to try and figure out what I want in life. But I can’t— I want her, and I want to make our marriage work somehow.” Jungkook was in tears again. He didn’t want to give up on his marriage yet. He couldn’t give up, so many people were counting on him to make this work.

“But I can’t think straight. I’m always so frustrated and you’re always in my head— I know I could be better— it’s not an excuse, I should be better, but—” What was he even saying?

“That night was— it never felt that good before— you were there for me, and despite how much of a mess I was, you—” Why? The question had never run through his head until now, but what could have possibly been your reason for being there with him that night? You were too nice. His thoughts were running a million miles an hour. He honestly couldn’t think clearly anymore.

“And your clothes— I’m sorry about that, I’m so sorry— it had— it had been ten months since I last, you know… but that’s not an excuse. I’m sorry, I should have been better.” He should have been. Imagine how disappointed Yuri would be if she knew.

“Ten months?” This conversation had gone all over the place, but you couldn’t hide your shock at this piece of news. You had just let him rant, not wanting to interrupt to give him the chance to get whatever he needed off his chest, but you just couldn’t hide your reaction.

Ten months was certainly not normal, especially considering he was married and had no kids to take up his free time after work. Suddenly, things started making a little more sense.

“It’s my fault— it’s all my fault— I’m not a good husband, I should have been able to wait longer if I had to— or maybe she would have wanted me sooner if I was better.” If he was better he wouldn’t have been in this situation in the first place.

There were some things that Jungkook said that made your skin crawl. It was possible his whole spiel could be some convoluted way into excusing what happened between you two, but then he said statements like that that would make alarm bells go off in your head. That certainly wasn’t right.

“But I want to be better. I want to make things right, and I just feel like I can’t do that when all I can think about is—” Jungkook didn’t finish, instead letting a pained sigh say everything he couldn’t.

“And I know it’s pathetic, but I wanted your help—” There it was, what’s been on his mind since that night. “Maybe you could tell me what I could do better— how to make her happy, what I’m lacking. And I just can’t stop thinking about you—” He looked up at you with those shiny, round eyes that made it so hard to say no.

And there it was, exactly what you feared when you walked in.

So much was happening, so many emotions thrown at you that you were tempted to take a seat in the chair in front of you to sit down and process it all. You tried your best to remove all emotion from this, to look at this as objectively as you could, but with Jungkook right in front of you and hearing everything he said—

You knew something was wrong from the minute you walked into your first meeting together, but you could have never predicted just how bad things were. You had no idea what went on behind closed doors. Maybe things really might be as bad as Jungkook said, but the hurt, pain, and desperation he spoke with made the wall you tried putting up impossible to keep from crashing down.

It took you back to Mi-Sun once again. You remembered talking to her in class sometimes and how she would spin every inconvenience into her doing. She always emphasized how it was her fault the other girls would tease her as much as they did. You didn’t understand it then, but Jungkook’s admissions almost felt like a repeat of what happened all those years ago, and you knew how that story ended.

“It’s my fault.” She had said so aimlessly as she stared out the window you both sat by.

“How is it your fault?!” You’d questioned, maybe a little too harshly. You couldn’t believe her words, considering you knew she had never done anything wrong. The girls were rude, you had no idea why, but Mi-Sun had been their target since you both made it to high school.

She should have known this, and it just made you angry. “They’re the problem, they have always been the problem. They’re rude just because they can be, and for some reason, no one is doing anything to stop it, and—”

“Y/n, just look at me!” You had turned to your friend, her eyes teary, and you should have seen it sooner. “It’s all my fault.” She softly cried before you pulled her into your arms.

You didn’t see it then, and the way Jungkook spoke now made you feel like you were back in high school, in class, right by the window you both would always sit by as Mi-Sun stared out, the light shining in her eyes growing dimmer as each day passed.

“Jungkook… you know what continuing would mean…” You looked at him worriedly.

You saw the tears run down his cheeks again as he slowly nodded his head.

“If anyone were to find out about that night, we could maybe just say we had too much to drink, it was late, or you could even mention your breakdown. Doing anything more would truly turn this into cheating. We’d have no excuses at that point.” Your eyes were sad as you noticed his expression grow more pained.

“And since you’re still trying to make things work with your wife— I just don’t think that’s the smartest idea. If we leave things where they’re at now, it would give us our best chance of going back to normal and putting the whole thing behind us.”

You could see the consequences coming from a mile away. You knew there would only be trouble going forward. You certainly weren’t a homewrecker by any means. You didn’t want to be the reason things came crashing down.

Jungkook steadily nodded.

“I probably look pathetic right now— I’m sorry, I don’t want you to think I’m forcing you or anything considering—” Jungkook was your boss… or well, technically your boss’s boss, but the dynamic was still a little strange. It was all strange. This whole situation was strange.

But it felt like you were with Mi-Sun all over again. You didn’t see the signs then, but Jungkook was right in front of you. You had the chance to help someone in a way you couldn’t help your friend in high school. What might happen if you just walked away from this now? A repeat? Or maybe something even worse.

“You don’t look pathetic, and I know you’re not forcing me… it’s just… things are going to get really complicated if we decide to do this.”

The vagueness of your statement was intentional— it’s not like you were saying no, because you weren’t. You really didn’t want to get involved in this, but seeing Jungkook so low… You didn’t think he was pathetic, however hearing him rant like this was just painful. Things weren’t right, and finding out your night together made him feel even the slightest bit better made you want to help him in any way you could. You hated seeing the dark cloud storming over him and his sad, tired gaze anytime you’d meet his eyes. It was difficult to watch, and as reckless as it was, you wanted to do anything to take away his pain just like you had wished you could’ve taken Mi-Sun’s pain away.

Jungkook visibly picked up on the fact that you didn’t outright say no, and part of you hated seeing the glimmer of hope in his eyes. This really was a bad idea to even entertain the idea of continuing, but at the same time, it was nice to see his gloom wash away, if only for a second. But that moment only lasted for a second before his expression suddenly changed into something darker, somehow even more disturbed.

“I promise I'll be good.” It was an odd choice of words that immediately caught you off guard.

“I’ll stay in line, I won’t ask for anything in return. I’ll wait until you want me. I promise I’ll be good, I promise.” It was his last-ditch effort to convince you. He was almost pleading with you. You couldn’t help but look at him strangely, wondering what he meant by that.

“I’ll be good— I have to be good— I don’t want to disappoint you either.” Things had truly taken a turn. Jungkook's expression grew more pained by the second, the cloud that hovered around him stormed with a concerning ferocity.

“I’ll be good— I promise— I promise I’ll wait.” Jungkook was slipping off an edge you didn’t see coming. The tears so easily slipped past his eyes, an uneasiness behind his desperate gaze. For some reason, you knew deep down this wasn’t coming from nowhere, especially after hearing his rant earlier…

“What do you mea—” But you couldn’t finish your sentence. The wave had already come crashing down over him, and you saw Jungkook fall to pieces first-hand. Even in the subtle light, you could see he was shaking.

“I’ll wait, I’ll wait if you want me to— as long as you need me to— I’ll be good— I promise!” He looked you in the eye, but for some reason you felt like he was looking right through you.

“I don’t want to disappoint you— I’ll be good— I have to be good— I have to— I’ll wait— I promise I’ll wait!” This had turned into a full-blown meltdown. You could see it in the look in his eyes. Something was on his mind, and it was tearing him apart. As much as you wanted to remain as neutral as possible, you couldn’t just stand there anymore and watch this. You quickly made your way around his desk so you were standing right beside him. His hands were back in his hair and his rambling had nearly turned incoherent.

In the low light you could see his hands trembling, and you quickly had to stop the tears from pouring out at that point. You couldn’t imagine what he must have gone through to make him so upset. If this was all a ruse then he deserved to be in Hollywood, but even suggesting that this might be a trick just felt beyond cruel. He was clearly struggling…

“Jungkook— please— please look at me.” You tried to remain calm, but your voice wavered in the middle.

“I’ll be good!” You could barely make his words out through the sobs.

“Jungkook… please look at me…” You gently tapped him on the shoulder. You were a little calmer this time, and that finally had him turning to face you, breaking him out of his trance.

He was finally looking up at you with his big, round, sad eyes, and your heart nearly broke in two when you saw his lip quiver slightly. He seemed so innocent, yet so broken, and you just wanted to fix him somehow.

You brought your hand up to lightly cup his cheek— they were wet, so, so wet, and as you moved his hair out his face, you could feel the tips had grown damp. Tears steadily continued to pour onto your fingers, but you tried your best to wipe them away. You also didn’t miss the way he practically careened into your warmth.

Such a pretty boy shouldn’t cry like this.

“I’ll wait…” He muttered as he looked at you. This time you knew he was talking to you.

“What do you mean you’ll wait?” You asked gently as you continued to wipe the tears from his eyes.

“As long as you need me to… weeks, months, years. I’ll wait until you want me.” Something about the way he said this, the pain in his voice made it that much more heartbreaking. Weeks were already crazy, but months, years? For some reason, the strain in the way he said this along with what he mentioned earlier, made you think this went deeper than his breakdown.

“I’ll be good, I promise— I’ll wait— I can’t disappoint you too.” He sobbed into your hands. Too? No, this wouldn’t do.

“Jungkook, what do you want?” You asked, looking him directly in the eyes. Your question visibly confused him at first, which just made you feel bold enough to go a step further. You looked toward the door before looking back down at him.

“Are you expecting anyone here any time soon?”

Confusedly, he shook his head. “It’s lunch right now— Secretary Yu went out to get something to eat and I don’t have any appointments.”

At this news, you let go of his pretty face and grabbed the end of your skirt. It was tight, so you pulled it up slightly before taking a seat right on his lap. You paid close attention to the look on his face, and you saw the panic before you felt it. His confusion turned into worry as he looked down at where you were sitting. He knew you could feel it, a surprise you had not expected when you sat down.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’ll wait, I promise!” He seemed panicked as he looked at you. His hands hovered over your waist, too scared to push anything further. He said he’d wait, but he was hard underneath you.

Jungkook’s thoughts had been filled with you even before you walked in. They always were whenever he was in his office these days, the memories returning so vividly as he’d stare at his desk where it happened.

“I can wait, I promise!” He tried to defend, but his brain was already starting to get fuzzy just from having you on his lap.

“Jungkook, what do you want?” You asked again, wrapping your arms around his neck. He was tense, but you felt him momentarily grab ahold of your waist and pull you a little closer. It would be so easy to kiss him like this.

“I…” His eyes struggled to meet your own. You were so close. He wanted to look and touch everywhere, but he had to think about you.

“I want to be good— I promise I’ll wait—” He had tears in his eyes as he stared down at where your bodies met.

“Mmm…. Is that so?” You looked down and you wondered what he meant about waiting. Clearly he needed something now, you could feel it right underneath you.

Jungkook shakily nodded.

“Until you want me, I’ll wait.” For a second, you ran his proposed arrangement through your head. What kind of affair would that be? Not that you thought about it before, but who’s ever heard of an affair where the guy is at the beck and call of the person he’s cheating with?

It was even more reason to believe he really hadn’t done anything like this before. Something wasn’t right.

“But what do you want?” Again, you asked because you wanted to hear it, but you felt like he needed to say it to himself even more. You could almost see the fear in his eyes as your question lingered. You could feel him shaking underneath you, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking about… or who.

“To be good…” His eyes only met yours for a second before they trailed down your body. His words were saying one thing, but his eyes were telling you another. Maybe you should help him out a little.

When you started getting closer, Jungkook thought you were going to kiss him. Maybe he wished you did, but what you ended up doing was even more unexpected. Your face grazed past his own and suddenly your lips were brushing against his neck.

“Oh…” Jungkook felt his cheeks warm, and his hands were gripping your waist before he could stop them.

You didn’t tease him for long, instead planting gentle, light, feathery kisses along his burning skin. His brain was shot the minute you stepped close, but like this, he was fighting so hard to stop himself from pulling you closer. You felt so good against him, so good, and it was already so hard.

“Y/n…” It came out like a whine and he didn’t mean it to. His eyes were watery, it hurt so much.

“Mhmm” Your voice was soft and—

“Y/n— I’ll wait— I promise, but I’m weak, and please— if you don’t want this… just please go easier on me.” Jungkook finally just cried. This was Yuri all over again. He didn’t want to disappoint you too, not another person. He didn’t need another person to hate him.

“But what about what you want?” You scooted closer, inches away from where he wanted you the most. He thought this would be the moment you’d get off, where you’d tell him to stop crying and scold his very existence. But you didn’t.

Your kisses slowed and you lingered on his skin for longer, lightly sucking spots you somehow discovered were sensitive. Jungkook gripped your hips hard, and he couldn’t stop himself from rutting up into you. It hurt so much, and Jungkook wanted nothing more than to touch you. This was just cruel.

“Y/n…” Jungkook cried, unable to stop the tears from spilling over.

You pulled back enough to see his face. You saw the tears and quickly leaned forward to kiss his cheek. He stared at you wide-eyed, still with that pained look on his face.

“Jungkook, you keep asking what I want, but I want to hear from you. What do you want?” You asked again, softly. You were pressing buttons he didn’t know he had. Why were you being so cruel?

A choked sob left his lips as he held onto your waist tightly. He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t do this.

Like you were sensing his struggle, you leaned in again and started planting languid kisses along his neck. He didn’t have much resilience anyway, paper-thin might even be an exaggeration with the way he was feeling. You were too close and he was too needy, the days of longing making it impossible to think straight, to resist like he knew he should.

“Y/n…” It came out as a moan as you subtly moved your hips against him. This was a warning, a warning that you clearly ignored because your pace grew faster with each glide of your hips. Tears poured harder from his eyes.

“Do you want me to stop?” You asked when he still hadn’t said anything.

Jungkook felt his body react faster than his mind did. His arms came up and tightly wrapped around your frame. The thought of you leaving when he felt like he was seconds away from exploding made him panic.

You were pulled flush against his chest before you could even realize.

“I want you so bad— it hurts so much— please don’t leave me.” He sounded exasperated. He was shaking around you as you could feel the tears running down his face and hitting your cheek.

Shame washed over him as his words settled in the air. He was begging. How sad and pathetic he must have looked. He was all too sure that he’d already ruined things with you.

You seemed to sense he was spiraling, so you were quick to press gentle kisses up his neck, across his jawline, and steadily made your way across his cheek to settle right beside his quivering lips.

His sniffling grew quieter as you worked. Instead, soft moans that he was trying to hold back grew stifled and needier. When you made it to his lips, there was a moment of hesitation. But it was truly only for a moment as Jungkook didn’t allow for anymore, finally closing the distance between you.

It happened so fast, you both nearly bumped heads at the speed he moved, and you weren’t prepared for how vigorous his kiss was. Jungkook kissed you like his life depended on it, and in some sense, you feared it really did.

You were quick getting into it though, matching his rhythm until your lips were moving together in sync. It just felt so right.

That same warmth Jungkook felt deep down in his chest on that fateful night was back with an overwhelming force. He could have cried— scratch that, he was crying, but for an entirely different reason.

Your lips were so soft, and with your arms wrapped around him… for a second, all the pain washed away. There was no one else in the world, no worries, it was just you and him together, alone in his office. This felt right in every way possible, and he couldn’t get you close enough.

The kiss was wet, hot, and you were so needy your body felt like it might burst into flames within a split second. It was destructive and consumed you both so quickly that you had no chance of coming to your senses. This was a bad idea, but you’d think about that later. Instead, you eagerly ground down onto him, making him softly moan into your lips.

His hands rested on your waist, and you could feel his fleeting attempts to touch you more, but it was like something was holding him back. You pulled away and he really was too pretty, your lipstick was all over his face, his lips shiny and stained red.

“Do you want this?” He suddenly asked, out of breath. For a second his question didn’t even register, because what?

“I don’t… I don’t want you to think I’m forcing you into this. I’ll wait, you could even walk away entirely if you aren’t comfortable doing this.” He spoke with round, sad eyes like he really was concerned. But you could still feel him throbbing underneath you. How he was this hard over a little teasing… you honestly worried for his pants at how well you could feel his aching length.

“Jungkook…” You sighed, lifting your hand to move his messy bangs away from his eyes. You could see his face a little better and it hurt seeing how red it was, stained with tears, and a sad look behind his dark gaze.

You leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to his cheek before moving your lips right by his ear.

“Would I be in your lap otherwise?” So soft and sultry in his ear. And he moaned, not holding back at all, completely forgetting you both were still in a public setting. He could have cum just from that alone. But he didn’t care, he was seconds away from losing his mind if something didn’t happen soon.

And then you were back to peppering kisses along his neck, this time going full force at sucking at the skin.

“Ahhh! Y/n— please!” He hissed, letting the tears fall from his eyes. He was going to explode, he was going to explode, please, please just touch him.

Jungkook didn’t wait for you to progress things further. He couldn’t find it in himself to be patient. Instead, his hands quickly moved down your waist, the arch of your back, and settled onto the curve of your ass, groping and feeling with a hurried need.

The motion made you gasp, easily allowing him to slip his tongue inside. It was completely unexpected, especially considering how timid he’d been acting so far, you definitely weren’t prepared. He was the one in control now. It was his tongue that was exploring every inch of your mouth fervently. It was hot and heavy, with a desperation you hadn’t felt since you were a teenager. Your hands cupped his cheeks before tightly tangling in his hair, somehow trying to pull him closer. It was this antsy, erupting feeling. You both hidden away from the world while you tried your best to contain yourselves in a public setting. You could feel his excitement through his suit pants which he tried to hide while pulling you closer at the same time.

“Oh fuck.” He softly moaned into the kiss as your hands found their rightful place in his long, dark hair. You pulled and tugged on the strands, enjoying the soft whines of pleasure Jungkook let out underneath you.

It was happening so fast, yet not fast enough. Any time you attempted to pull away, he held you closer in his arms. It was hard to keep up, but you weren’t prepared for the heat to consume you so quickly, you felt like you were doused in gasoline. It was insane, and you wanted so much more with each brush of his lips against yours.

You were so in the moment that you weren’t prepared for his hands to go lower, slipping under your skirt to hastily pull it up around your waist. For a moment, it didn’t even register until you began to feel the cold breeze against the newly exposed skin. It was at this that you finally pulled away.

For a brief moment, Jungkook tried to stop you, but then you felt the building confidence quickly leave his body as he realized something was wrong. He stared up at you, the shininess in his eyes returning all too quickly.

“I—I’m sorry…” His voice was shaking.

“Don’t apologize—”

“I’ll wait, I’m sorry. I’m rushing things, I’m sorry…” It’s like he wasn’t listening all over again as he shakily tried to pull your skirt back down.

It was then that you realized how this might have looked.

“It’s not that— it’s just… I know it’s a little hard to forget, but we’re in public… in your office.” You pointed out, and you saw Jungkook’s face grow red as he looked around. It seemed like he really did forget where you were.

“I’m sorry—” He cried, letting go of you entirely.

“No— we don’t need to stop. Going all the way might not be the best idea, especially in a room without a lock, but I was thinking we could do something a little quicker.” You smiled gently at him. Jungkook was visibly confused at this, so you took this as your cue to slip off his lap and onto your knees right in front of him.

“Will this work for you?” You smiled up at him mischievously, hoping he got the picture. But for some reason he still was staring down at you with those round eyes that made him look so innocent and… confused?

“What are you doing?” His voice was so small. Your hand was resting on his lap, so close to where he wanted you, and just— why did you have to get off of him?

It was your turn to be confused.

“You know…” You lightly laughed, thinking this might be some type of joke, but Jungkook still maintained the same perplexed gaze. It was then that your face dropped. Suddenly the possibility of him actually being confused ran through your head.

“You do know what a blowjob is, right?” You were a bit blunt, but honestly you were expecting him to laugh at you. A funny joke in the heat of the moment to make you smile, but instead of the giggle you were expecting, you suddenly watched him get flustered.

“Right…?” You asked again, growing weary.

“Uh— I do— did? I didn’t think they were a real thing people actually do…” His voice just grew smaller as he looked down at you. He quickly got the picture that wasn’t normal.

You immediately had so many questions. You were the same age, yet….? How, how did this happen? Did someone tell him that? No guy would ever think that without some type of influence. That also meant he probably wasn’t the most experienced, as far as partners go, because you highly doubt people came into his life and never once tried sucking his dick or at least offered. The other day Jungkook did mention he’s only been with his wife, and an uneasy shudder ran through your body as you mentally started connecting the dots.

“Um— Jungkook, if you’re not comfortable, we could—”

“No, please! Please don’t stop— I… please…” He cried, grabbing onto your hand that was sitting in his lap, but immediately he was horrified in himself, realizing he was begging again. Yuri always hated that so much.

“I mean— I mean…” His eyes grew watery. “It just hurts so much…” Jungkook wanted to fuck you on top of his desk again, he was only a moment away from picking you up and doing just that.

“If you’re comfortable, I won’t stop.” You gave him a warm smile, careful not to frighten or overwhelm him, along with a gentle, reassuring squeeze to his thigh to keep him relatively calm.

Jungkook subtly, but not so subtly, tried to move himself closer to your hand. He was hardly paying attention, his mind completely enthralled with needing some type of relief. He’d take anything at this point.

“Jungkook?” You questioned when he still hadn’t responded.

“P-Please…!” He stammered out, seeing how close your hand was. Just a little closer and he could…

You looked down and noticed his efforts, making you chuckle. “Alright then, I’ll be quick. Just let me know when you’re close.”

Again, he wasn’t paying as much attention as he should, but suddenly his eyes went wide as you lightly began running your hands up his thighs. Jungkook moaned at the touch as you ran over the very obvious outline in his slacks. Anything at this point felt so intense. He just needed more.

You were quick to give him just that. As you reached up to start undoing his belt, he finally had to look away, knowing what was coming next.

You went a little slow, not to just tease him, but to give him a chance to turn back if he got uncomfortable at any moment. You were too fascinated by how tiny his waist looked to notice his growing panic.

Jungkook wanted to scream when you started to unzip his pants— he wanted more, but he was terrified. As he felt you pull him out from his underwear, his eyes grew watery, not needing to look down to feel your gaze. You were staring at him.

Things were different from the last time. While he had the blinds closed and the lights were low, he knew there was still more than enough light to see him. A wave of anxiety washed over him faster than a tsunami, the dread of your judgment completely taking him out of the moment. He’d only been with two people before. The fear of it not looking right or not being up to your standards was still very real and alive. Maybe that was the reason Yuri didn’t want him, and you have probably experienced so much better— you deserve so much better than anything he could give you—

His thoughts were spiraling, but you were quick to step in once again, noticing he’d grown tense underneath you.

You directed your attention to his length that you had firmly grasped in your hand. You marveled at being able to see it in its full glory unlike last time. It was pretty and practically had you drooling, leaving you more than excited to see how it feels in your mouth. It was firm in your grasp and it curved slightly towards the flaming red tip, and you had to stop yourself from moaning at the delicious vein running along the side.

You stared, maybe for too long, at the way it bopped at the slightest movements and gently started leaking precum onto your hand, steadily dripping to create a small puddle that ran down your skin. Staring wasn’t the right thing to do considering how self-conscious he seemed ,and it took you way too long to look up and see his attention on the ceiling with wet streaks running down his cheeks.

“You’re so pretty, don’t you know that?” You smiled as you slowly started to pump his length. The action was enough to make Jungkook look down at you, moaning at your words, and fuck— The sight was enough to send him to a new dimension and back. You had moved closer so your face was right by where he needed you, and you were touching him so well—

“Y/n…” It was a hushed sob. Any louder and he was scared he’d scream. His tears were now streaming for an entirely different reason. It was quick and all these emotions were swirling around in his head. It was too much and he wanted you to stop it.

Your strokes were slow, but it really didn’t take much. It had been too long, too much running away and edging; he just wanted relief.

“Y/n—” He cried again, this time more desperate. He was shaking.

You put him out of his misery only slightly as you used your thumb to rub over the slit and marveled at the way more precum continued to leak over your finger with each swipe.

“Oh— fuck.” He whined, shifting around so you’d touch him more. His hands were balled into tight fists as he watched you, knuckles turning white in the process. Part of him wanted to look away in shame, but you commanded his attention in a way that he couldn’t turn anywhere else.

You met his shameful gaze as you looked up at him with glistening eyes, and Jungkook hated how much he wanted to ruin you all over again. Leave you a mess so his colleagues could see how horrible he was.

Jungkook was on edge and you had barely touched him. You could tell he was growing antsy, so you finally moved so that you were mere centimeters away from his pleading cock. The sight alone could have made him cum. You, staring up at him with eager, excited eyes, and as he looked down at you, a guttural sound escaped his lips before he could catch it.

There was only a moment of hesitation, a moment that dragged on for eternity. With your gaze, you were waiting to see if he had any doubts about continuing, but Jungkook held on with bated breath, giving no signs of wanting to stop.

He was a little confused… no, that wasn’t right… anxious? He hardly had a clue what to expect. He knew what a blowjob was… kinda? He knew what they were from videos he saw when he was younger, but everyone always talked about how exaggerated they were. He had no idea what a real blow job was like and what to expect. How long had it been since the thought even crossed his mind? He couldn’t remember anymore.

Jungkook was in his head again, but the very sudden feeling of your tongue quickly swiping across the tip briskly jolted him back into the moment, making him nearly jump out of his chair.

Oh.

He didn’t even realize he had said it out loud, and at a volume that was far too loud, until the soft sounds of your chuckles got his attention.

“Can’t be too loud~” You smiled, and Jungkook felt his whole body set ablaze with an inferno he wasn’t prepared for in the slightest.

“Just let me know when you’re close—” you reminded him once again. He wondered if you could tell he wouldn’t last long. You would be right. “Sit back, relax. I’ll take care of you.” You smiled.

Jungkook had to take a moment to stare at you. Your eyes shone from his desk lamp, your lipstick had already started to smear across your lips from your heated activities earlier, and your hair grew more disheveled by the second. Your invitation to relax and let you essentially take care of him made shivers run up his spine, and he couldn’t nod for you to continue any faster.

He listened to your advice and finally leaned back in his office chair, waiting for you to have your way with him. The moment he got more comfortable, you were back on him, his cock in hand as you leaned in once again to give a teasing lick to the tip.

Ohhhhhh—

He didn’t mean to, but you were teasing him too much. You probably thought it was pathetic how he practically chased after your mouth when you pulled away. It wasn’t long before you were back though, slowly swirling your tongue around the tip, tasting the salty precum that continued to leak with each swipe of your tongue, while looking intently at his antsy reactions.

“Ahhhh! Please—” Jungkook had tears in his eyes as he pleaded for you. He felt like he was going to lose his mind. This, fuck— this—

He probably had imprints on his hands from his nails at how tightly he had balled up his fists. Jungkook looked down at you, not wanting to rush you or beg, but he felt like he was at his limit.

Finally, you put him out of his misery. It came unexpectedly. Your gentle licks turned into you engulfing the tip with your mouth. You were slow. You didn’t want to overwhelm him considering this was meant to be his first time.

“Oh, fu—” Jungkook quickly covered his mouth. His fist tightened to the point he could feel his nails digging into his skin. His tears finally spilled as the overwhelming pleasure washed over him as you tried to take more of him down. It was new, a euphoria he had never experienced before, seeing you on your knees pleasing him, taking him so well… it was too sinful to be allowed. And you just kept going, further and further down and—

“Wai—oh my go—” Jungkook tried to whisper, but he was way too loud. He was going to cum. It was like he was suddenly pushed to the edge. He knew he was close, but not that close.

“Oh—” He moaned. Your mouth was so warm, wet, and inviting. It reminded him too much of the fleeting memory of what it felt like to be inside you. Jungkook quickly had to shut his eyes, focusing all his concentration on not having this end so soon after you just started. The embarrassment— he couldn’t do that to you. But—

“Fuck!”

You went as far as you could before steadily easing back and popping off him to see how he took it. You knew he had been shaking, but you weren’t prepared for his look of distress.

“You ok?” You lightly chuckle, caressing his thigh— and, woah, were you in for a surprise feeling how firm they were. How much did this boy work out?

You watched as tears slipped from his eyes. “Umm-mm-m,” his voice was shaky as he finally opened his eyes to look at you.

“Can— can you go slow? I won’t make it two seconds otherwise…” He was quiet and sounded out of breath already. His round cheeks were flushed and he could barely look you in the eye.

“It’s all about you. Don’t worry about it too much. Like I told you, sit back and relax. You can let go whenever you’re ready.” You smiled. All you wanted him to do was relax and enjoy it. He seemed so tense, he always seemed so tense. You couldn’t imagine what he must be going through for him to practically be in pieces, always on the verge of tears any time you’d just look at him.

Even now… You finally noticed his tightly balled fist, and he just seemed so tense— too tense for someone who was about to get sucked off. You quickly wrapped one hand around his length again and used the other to grab one of his fists and place it on your head.

You didn’t want him to think too much, so you quickly took him into your mouth again. He must have understood what you meant because his hand was suddenly in your hair, and electricity ran through your body at the satisfying moan he let out. It was loud, almost like it was meant for anyone to hear. For a moment, you forgot you were in his office in the middle of everyone’s lunch break. That anyone could walk in at any time if you weren’t careful. It seemed you weren’t the only one.

The moment was short-lived. Jungkook quickly brought his hand back over his mouth to stop himself from making any more noise. The moan caught in his throat was muffled, but you could still sense the urgency in his tone without hearing him fully.

Each time you bobbed your head up and down, his reactions fueled you to push further. Jungkook was trying to be subtle, you could tell, and it was almost cute how soft he was. Your hand wrapped around his length to stroke whatever your mouth couldn’t take. He whimpered underneath you each time your lips came down around him, and you picked up on the cute way he lightly gripped your hair with each movement you made. It was so subtle, careful not to squeeze too hard, but you could feel when he wanted more.

Jungkook couldn’t even comprehend the emotions flowing through his body, all new sensations that made every touch you gave him feel so intense. He was barely making it as it was, but this was so new, and he just couldn’t—

“Y/n— I’m close…” He sobbed. He felt worse when you stopped momentarily to look at him because you had barely started. You were only a few strokes in and he had tried his best to push past and enjoy it as long as possible, but it was already too much, and—

“I’m sorry…” He cried, that creeping embarrassment washing over him with vigor. He was prepared for you to say something demeaning. Mocking that he could hardly last, that he was a disappointment, that you regretted doing this with him. He was ready for the painful words he’d grown so used to lately, but they never came as you popped off him with a smile.

“Let go whenever you’re ready.” Your eyes were warm, and for a second he felt all fuzzy inside because it was more compassion than he deserved.

He felt his eyes grow watery, but right before you were about to finish him off, a sound Jungkook recognized too well filled the emptiness of his office. The blaring ring of the phone that sat on his desk made you both freeze. In an instant, the thin veil you both wore over your eyes, shielding you from the outside world, was ripped away.

You and Jungkook just stared at each other. An intense fear came over the both of you, but in the moment, Jungkook knew he had to act. He hurriedly tried to pull himself together enough so he could answer the call. With a worried glance sent in your direction, Jungkook slowly picked up the phone.

“H-Hello?” His voice cracked, the strain from all the crying earlier taking its toll at the worst time possible.

“Oh— sir, are you ok?” It was Secretary Yu.

“Yeah— I’m fine. Is something up?” Jungkook rushed her. With the reassurance it was just his secretary and not an executive, an uncontrollable anger started boiling over at something coming in the way of his relief…

“I’m sorry to interrupt you! I know you’re on your lunch break, but Director Lee is here to see you about a supposed emergency.” Her tone sounded like she felt bad, but Jungkook was more focused on what she said.

He looked down at you, staring wide-eyed at him, waiting for the news.

“Um— can you just tell him to come back later?” Jungkook threaded his fingers through his hair, stressed and unable to hide the annoyance in his voice any longer.

“He says it’s urgent.” She already had an answer, knowing her boss well.

“Fuck.” Jungkook groaned as quietly as he could. It was crude language for work, but his secretary was used to it by now, often on the receiving end of frustrated rants when censoring himself was the least of his concerns.

“Can you give us— me a few minutes?” A slip of the tongue, remembering he was technically the only one supposed to be in here. Luckily, she didn’t seem to notice.

“Of course, just call back when you’re ready.” And with that, she hung up and the countdown began.

As soon as she was gone, Jungkook resisted the urge to throw the phone across the room. Of course the one day he wasn’t in here by himself, Director Lee just had to show up. It probably wasn’t even an actual emergency. He had a habit of doing this from time to time in order for an excuse to speak to Jungkook, and of course this “emergency” had to happen today.

Jungkook looked down at you and debated whether or not there was any conceivable possibility of finishing before Director Lee came in. He was already so close, just a little longer and he’d be putty in your hands.

“What’s going on?” You finally asked when he hadn’t said anything.

“Director Lee’s outside. He says it’s an emergency.” Jungkook felt like crying. He was so close.

You looked around, panicked, because there was no way you looked presentable, and Jungkook looked more than a little disheveled with his shiny lips and your lipstick all over his face. Instead of thinking about it too much, you hurriedly got to your feet, knees a little shaky from being on them for so long, but that didn’t stop you as you quickly tried to help clean Jungkook up.

He looked up at you with wide eyes as you used your fingers to wipe away the red stains littered all over his cheeks, lips, and neck. His eyes were glossy and you had to resist the urge to kiss that look off his face knowing that would just leave marks again, but you let your thumb lightly caress his cheek.

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise I’ll finish when he leaves.” You reassured him as you tried to help fix his ruffled hair, moving the strands back in place and out of his eyes.

Jungkook’s heart hammered in his chest so hard he was almost sure you could hear it. His mind was a mess, and the affection just made him want you even more. He would give anything to have you bent over his desk right now.

He looked presentable, at least enough so that in the dim light hopefully Director Lee wouldn’t question anything. You, though… Where were you going to hide? You looked around.

Your first instinct was to hide behind the blinds, but that would never work in a million years. There was really nowhere in his office you could hide without it being incredibly ridiculous except…

“You think I could fit under there?” You asked quickly, pointing to the spot underneath Jungkook’s desk. It would be a tight fit, but there weren’t any better options.

Jungkook moved out of the way, and with a little maneuvering as you tried your best to find the most comfortable position, you were able to slide underneath. In the meantime, Jungkook went through the painful process of trying to tuck himself back into his pants.

He had tears in his eyes as he struggled for a moment. It was so hard, he was so hard, that at this point trying to get himself back in was more than a task. And his touch… anything could have set him off, but he worked carefully so he wouldn’t end up making a mess in his hands. He couldn’t disappoint you. But it hurt. It hurt so much that at this point, he just had to make do with leaving his pants unzipped because no way in hell he would be able to get them closed.

With you squished under his desk and he now looking normal enough for this short meeting, Jungkook took a few deep breaths to calm his nerves as he scooched closer to his desk.

“You— you ok down there?” He asked quickly.

“Yeah, just don’t be too long.” You called out. Jungkook spread his legs a little wider to give you more room.

It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but at least the view made up for it.

“I’ll try and make this quick. I’m so sorry…” Jungkook sighed, evidently frustrated. Of all days, this had to happen when he had been so close… so fucking close. Director Lee better have an actual emergency. He had a habit of coming in and claiming “emergencies” when really, he just wanted to talk. Jungkook knew what he was doing, trying to get into his favor in hopes of getting into his dad’s good graces, hoping for a promotion soon or after Jungkook was meant to take over.

It was annoying under normal circumstances, but if he was trying to do the same thing now… Jungkook took a few deep breaths to calm himself before finally picking up the phone again.

“Hey… yeah, you can send him in, but please tell him I’m busy and to make it quick.” You intently listened to his words and while Jungkook had tried to stay calm, you could still clearly hear the agitation in his voice.

It was cute. Maybe a little hot too? You shook the thought out of your head, not liking it at all.

With bated breath, you listened to the sound of the door creek open and the hurried clicks of dress shoes slowly coming closer to the desk. Director Lee was alright in your opinion. He was one of the executives in marketing, but you weren’t sure exactly what he did. He was fine at his job, but he would talk for hours about the most obscure thing. You hadn’t really talked to him much, just seen him at the few meetings you’d attended so far as another executive, but hopefully—

“Head Director Jeon!” Director Lee’s cheerful voice rang out. Jungkook had tried to make himself look busy, quickly shaking his computer awake and mindlessly scrolling over some random document he had open before his breakdown.

Jungkook almost rose to his feet on instinct, ready to greet him with a polite bow, but luckily he caught himself before the situation ended less than favorable. Instead, he kept himself busy before finally meeting Director Lee’s eyes.

“Director Lee! I’m sorry for the wait.” Jungkook tried to smile as the man himself came over, bowing quickly before taking a seat on one of the chairs in front of his desk.

Great. That likely meant this wouldn’t take only two seconds. Jungkook just hoped that wasn’t the case, nor did he notice the lack of greeting.

“I’m sorry to bother you when you’re busy, but there were just a few questions I had from marketing for you.” Director Lee smiled, and Jungkook let out a sigh of relief knowing this was actually about work.

You were somewhat listening. You picked up on a few things you’d hear marketing discuss in the meetings you attended, but most of it went over your head. You honestly had hoped that this was only going to be a few questions, but you were always wrong.

At some point, Jungkook briefly mentioned wanting to travel. They had been discussing something about the EU branch located in Germany, leading to Director Lee talking about the time he took his family there when he was on a business trip. Jungkook had quickly mentioned his desire to travel more, and then suddenly he was being handed Director Lee’s phone to look through all the pictures of the Lee family during their trips to all these faraway places.

Although Jungkook did a good job at remaining calm in front of Director Lee, you could see the way his leg bounced restlessly as he listened to the director talk about the time his family went to Budapest from your position underneath the desk. You wanted to calm him down a little and without thinking too deeply, you placed a reassuring hand on his thigh, gently running your hand along it, letting him know you were still here.

You hadn’t been paying too much attention to their conversation. After all, it wasn’t meant to be one you were a part of, and you tried your best to give them a little privacy. But right in that moment, you noticed the way Jungkook stopped talking momentarily about business trips as your hand trailed up his leg, before slowly dragging back into the conversation.

Oh. You liked that a little too much.

Your reassurance was only meant to be quick, a very brief reminder that you were here, but you kept going, your hand going up further, up his thigh to where his open zipper laid. For a brief moment, you considered stopping. Director Lee was right there, but as you started pulling your hand away, suddenly another was wrapped around your wrist stopping your movements.

It took a moment to realize it was Jungkook. You stared for a while, his tight grip fleeting as he lightly placed your hand back on his thigh, all while he continued on with Director Lee. It was just enough to give you the confidence to go further. Luckily Jungkook made it easy for you.

You were a little too eager slipping into his pants, pulling him out ever so gently, and feeling him in your grasp again. Jungkook immediately had his hand around your wrist the minute your fingers brushed against him.

It was a warning, a fleeting one, one you could tell even he wasn’t sure about. For a moment you were sure his hand was trying to pull you closer.

You had some common sense— you had no intention of getting him so riled up that Director Lee would walk around the desk to see you cramped underneath Jungkook’s desk playing with his cock. As much as you’d love to watch him squirm while he tried his best to remain composed, you also wanted to walk out of here with a job. You knew your limits.

You were subtle at first, You watched and listened intently as your thumb lightly traced over the tip. You got another instant reaction, his hand quickly tightening around your wrist, and you heard his voice waver slightly.

Your efforts were slow and controlled. You didn’t want him to scream, but you did want him to feel it. Slow light touches grazed up his skin, so delicate, as you made sure he’d never forget you were here. It was nice, as he returned faint squeezes around your wrist.

“You and your wife should come with us one day!” Director Lee bellowed out with a hearty laugh after Jungkook faintly wished he could have been there for that experience. The conversation had moved to Alaska and the Northern Lights now… you had no idea how they got on that topic. You were startled slightly by the sudden outburst. Your hand slipped and suddenly his fingers were laced in your hair and underneath the laughter, your ears instantly locked onto a subtle moan.

Jungkook was quick to cover it with a cough that Director Lee seemingly didn’t notice. At this point, you feared you had gone a little too far accidently. You were going to call it quits until Director Lee left, but as your grip loosened, suddenly his hand was on your wrist again stopping you in your tracks.

He didn’t want you to stop, and you wanted to please him.

You pushed past your hesitation, instead deciding to get even more bold. You leaned forward enough to the point you were face to face with his weeping cock once again. You took it in your hand and lightly ran your tongue along the tip. You were instantly rewarded with his hand lacing into your hair, and you wished you could have seen his face.

You listened to the way his breathing grew heavier with each swipe of your tongue. You also noticed the subtle way he’d try to keep your head down longer any time you came up. As wrong as it might be, it was hot, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, so was he.

He was painfully hot, so hot you once again found yourself wondering how you didn’t notice sooner. You honestly probably didn’t want to, your hatred blinding you from both his suffering and anguish as well as his… nice composition. That wasn’t entirely true… you knew that he was conventionally attractive, maybe a little more so than most, but looks meant nothing when he was being petty to you. Now that you were exposed to the cracks in his façade, you could push past your turbulent history and acknowledge the fact you understood the stares he received when he’d walk around the office and the swooning no matter his questionable leadership. You got it more than anyone now that you’d gotten a glimpse behind his sad gaze.

Unfortunately, you understood it too much. Watching him try not to fall apart in front of the director made the ache between your legs apparent, and you wanted nothing more than to take him right there in his office. But this wasn’t about you; it was about him. You wanted that sad look behind his eyes to disappear, even just for a second. But later tonight you just might need to revisit an old friend you kept in your bottom drawer. A reunion was more than necessary at this point.

Curse him.

•────•──────────•────•

Jungkook should have stopped you, he knew that. This was embarrassing, the highest level of inappropriate he could have achieved, but he felt like he’d reached such a breaking point that he simply didn’t care. All he could think about was the orgasm that he was on the verge of having before you were interrupted. The minute you had your hand on him he never wanted it to leave.

At this point, he was this close to screaming at Director Lee to leave. But he rambled on and on about all the excursions he took his family on whenever he got some time off. Jungkook tried his best to smile and nod along whenever he made eye contact, but the minute you had your tongue running along him, he could barely keep it together.

Jungkook wondered how Director Lee hadn’t noticed. He wasn’t doing a good job hiding that something was up. Jungkook was struggling to keep his eyes open as your lips wrapped around him with the subtle flicks of your hand. At this point, Director Lee probably thought he had some type of cold by how much he had to cough to stop himself from moaning out for you to make him cum.

He felt delirious, like he was looking over the precipice of a high-rise and the world around him started to spin as he tried to make out the ground down below. He was so close. So close to finally getting the release he’d been craving for days. So close, but of fucking course Director Lee just had to come into his office now.

“I’m sure Ms. Han would love Barcelona!” For some reason, Director Lee had already started planning out a trip that Yuri and him were meant to join with his family. Jungkook practically had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying that the last thing he wanted to think about was Yuri when he had you underneath his desk pleasing him so well. He didn’t want to think of anything; no work, no business, he just wanted to cum… why was that so hard?!

“I’m sure she—she—she… would.” Your tongue had licked right over the slit and he was horrible at pretending he wasn’t on the verge of losing it. You felt so good.

Your efforts weren’t enough to get him to cum yet, something he felt was intentional. But the longer he had to stare at Director Lee’s face, the more he was starting to care less and less about the world around him. He just wanted—

Please.

“It’s honestly beautiful— I went there when I was fifteen. It was a high school trip I’m pretty sure, and—” Blah blah blah, if he wasn’t out of his face in the next two minutes…

He didn’t want to hear about this trip. Spending any time with Director Lee outside of a work context felt like a nightmare. Jungkook knew that he’d probably end up spending less time with Yuri than Director Lee, talking his head off about some random thing he’s convinced they have in common. It maybe wouldn’t be so bad if Jungkook didn’t know his type as well as he did. It was all an attempt at trying to fast-track a promotion. Director Lee probably didn’t care about him at all, or the things they had in common, and would actually hate for Yuri and him to be there on his family trip. This conversation was pointless.

“And we’d have to go hiking across the… sights are so beautiful… the pictures I took were—”

“O-oohhh-oh…” It was a quiet, hushed moan and Jungkook quickly had to blink away the tears that had started to settle in his eyes at the strain of keeping it together. You had finally taken the whole tip and Jungkook was just getting worse and worse at covering up his moans. The cough that followed was a little slow, and he probably sounded in as much pain as he felt.

He wanted to see you, wanted to touch you.

“Head Director Jeon, are you ok?” Director Lee feigned concerned. He always insisted on calling him his full title instead of the more casual “Director Jeon” that everyone else used and he preferred. He would even choose the awkward “Mr. Jeon,” despite it making him feel weird since he was younger than the majority of the staff he worked with, over the full title. He hated people using it for no other reason than it always just felt like just an attempt to get in his good graces.

“Fine— just…” deep breaths… “The cold’s started to get to me slightly…” Jungkook tried to laugh, but his eyes were getting watery. He probably looked like a mess. He wanted you to make him into an even bigger one than he already was.

“Oh! If you’re sick, I know a great tea recipe that would—” Jungkook couldn’t pay attention any longer than two seconds. He couldn’t stop imagining what might happen the minute Director Lee left, what you might do, and the blissful release afterward. He just wanted you, please, please, please…

He couldn’t do this anymore.

“— Director Lee, I’m sorry to interrupt, but—” it hurts so much “but I’m pretty busy today…” Jungkook tried to be nice, but he really was worried what he might do if Director Lee wasn’t out the door in the next five seconds.

Director Lee looked shocked for a second. He wasn’t expecting that. Usually Jungkook would always put up with his bullshit even though he despised the mooching, but today any longer and Jungkook would seriously cause a scene.

Jungkook attempted to put on the best, most apologetic smile he could muster as the Director processed his words.

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry. Your secretary mentioned you were busy before I came in.” Jungkook nearly jumped for joy when Director Lee finally got up from the chair in front of him.

Director Lee bowed politely and Jungkook once again had to resist the urge to get up and bear him a respectful farewell, but that was out of the question right now. Instead, Jungkook bowed his head slightly, hoping the director wouldn’t think too much of it.

“I’ll be in contact about how things go at the US branch,” Director Lee mentioned and Jungkook had nearly forgotten that he had first come in with an actual reason. Aside from discussing some things about marketing, Director Lee had wanted to go over some information before he left for the US branch tomorrow, and that’s how they ended up talking about travel. It was then when Director Lee mentioned how his family just came back from London and he was flying out again.

Jungkook only nodded, nervous that if he spoke at this point the only thing that would come out was an embarrassing plea for you to make him cum. But to his delight, Jungkook watched Director Lee make his way to the door. You must have heard him leaving because the minute the sounds of his footsteps echoed off the marble floors, you quickly kicked it up five notches, finally putting Jungkook out of his misery and taking him down your throat again.

Jungkook’s eyes fluttered closed as he took it all in. Your mouth brought so many new sensations, he was having trouble keeping up. It felt good, and deep down he selfishly relished in it all.

“Have a good day, Head Director Jeon.” Director Lee bowed and Jungkook wanted to scream at him to leave, but instead he sent another pained smile and a slight wave his way.

When he heard the door close, Jungkook let his head fall to his desk. Silent besides the now obvious sounds of you shifting underneath the desk. It hurt so much, he just wanted to—

“Please, please, please make me cum!” A hushed sob escaped as the tears finally spilled from his eyes. He was shameless and his ears felt hot with embarrassment, but for a moment he didn’t care, he just wanted to cum.

He felt you gently tap his leg and he finally remembered that you were cramped down there. He quickly rolled his chair back, giving you the opportunity to climb out from under the desk. He watched with hungry eyes as you stretched your tense limbs. Even fully clothed, just watching your body move under your blouse was more than enough to make him lose his mind.

Get it together, Jeon. But he couldn’t, he wanted you so badly— his watery eyes stared as you moved back into a comfortable position between his legs.

“Please— please— I’m so close.” He cried.

You looked at him with those kind eyes and gave him a warm smile that tingled more than just his heart.

“I got you, just let go when you’re ready.” You didn’t even give him a chance to answer before you took him in completely. Jungkook couldn’t stop the moan that fell his lips at the warmth and wetness your mouth provided. It was amazing, you were amazing, you always were. Your pace was quick this time, sensing his urgency. It was probably only a few seconds before that growing feeling returned, this time with no plans of stopping.

“C-close!” Jungkook hurried out, but he feared you couldn’t understand him with how mangled it came out.

Jungkook let one hand tangle in your hair, needing to grab ahold of something, while the other came over his mouth to stop himself from screaming. For a second, he worried if he was doing this right, was he embarrassing himself right now? Did you hate him? Did you resent him for pulling you into this? This was all so new, he didn’t want to mess things up, but he couldn’t think clearly and hardly had the capacity to care right now.

Jungkook finally found the strength to look down, the sight of you taking him so well caused sparks to run through his body, making it impossible to delay the inevitable.

“Your mouth!” It came out a little louder than he wanted it to, but it was meant to be a warning. He was close, and if you didn’t move away soon then… He thought you’d move off of him, maybe finish him off by hand, but instead you sped up your pace despite his warning. For a second, Yuri flashed in his head, and the sheer utter fear of disappointing you like he’d done to her so many times came crashing down like a wave in a storm.

As he sped toward the edge, he tried his best to delay it until you could get off of him. Yuri would hate the mess and he feared your reaction— no, he had to last just a little longer—

“Y/n, I’m serious, I’m—” His efforts were fruitless. The tears in his eyes finally spilled over; the pleasure and the guilt grew overwhelming. His body was on fire, and the sheer relief of having you this close made the end come all too quickly.

Jungkook kept his hand clamped over his mouth, but his attempt was futile as moans still slipped from his lips. They were muffled, nonsensical, and sounded as pained as he felt, the blinding hot release spreading throughout his entire body and ultimately into your mouth. Tears ran down his cheeks, his grip in your hair growing tighter as you steadily worked him through his orgasm.

“Fu—oh—go—fuck.” There weren’t words to describe how good he felt.

He could feel his release paint your mouth, a horrible mix of shame and something else he didn’t want to admit bubbling in the depths of his mind. His whole body shook, even after what felt like an endless stream of his release filled your mouth. Wave after wave of tears just kept coming because finally… fucking finally.

He momentarily forgot where you both were and who he was. It just felt so good to forget. It was the freedom he craved when he was alone sometimes. But this was wrong, he knew it was.

As the wave started to die down, instead of a graceful landing, he practically crashed with how quickly new tears started spilling from his eyes. His muffled moans turned into sobs and he couldn’t bear to look down at you. He didn’t want to see your disappointment. You were already so kind, and he just had to go and ruin it because he couldn’t wait until you had moved off of him.

“Jungkook, you ok?” Your voice was laced with concern as he felt your hand running along his thigh.

“I’m sorry!” Jungkook just sobbed. His face was wet, and his hair was soaked with tears and sweat. He knew he looked like a mess.

There was a moment of silence while you tried to rack your brain for what he was talking about. “Why are you sorry?” You were so gentle, hating how upset he seemed.

“I tried to— I tried to wait— I’m so sorry!” He choked out, trying to be quiet as Secretary Yu was right outside, but the shame that crept over his body made it hard to stay in control.

You looked notably shocked.

“I told you that you could cum whenever you were ready,” you chuckled, rubbing his leg gently.

“That’s not— your mouth… I came inside— I’m sorry.” Jungkook finally looked down and you could see just how distraught he seemed, the wetness around his eyes more than heartbreaking. Finding a little strength, you finally rose to your feet. Your knees were achy, but you persevered so you could face him a little better.

You took the initiative and brought your finger up to his chin so he’d look at you. His eyes were shiny, red, and filled with a sadness you couldn’t quite comprehend. This wasn’t how this was meant to end.

“You don’t need to apologize for something I wanted.” You gently rubbed your thumb along his wet cheek. Your cheeks burned from the confession, but you were glad you said it when you saw the tension fall from his soft features.

“H-huh?”

“Maybe I should have asked, but I thought it was best to avoid any mess.” Might he have preferred it more if he painted your face? The image in your mind made your face even hotter, not exactly against the idea if you didn’t have to worry about walking out in front of your coworkers.

“I thought I messed up already… made you disappointed, that you— you’d hate me too.” Just the word hate made his eyes watery all over again. He’d heard it too many times from Yuri, and he was sure it wouldn’t be long before he heard it from you too.

It was then you realized what he was referring to, that he thought somehow cumming in your mouth was a mistake he made? It was crazy and reaffirmed that Jungkook was telling the truth when he said it was his first time having someone go down on him. But that was the least of your worries, instead, the harsh words he’d expected as retribution stood out to you more than anything. The truth of the reasoning behind his sad eyes, why his dimpled smile never appeared anymore, and the sense of what might be happening behind closed doors grew more terrifying the more he spoke to you.

“Just wanted you to feel good— I can’t hate you for that.” You smiled, and you were a little shocked when you suddenly felt his hands on your waist pull you closer.

“Did it feel good?” You giggled at the affection, but your face was burning. This isn’t what you expected from him.

Instead of answering, Jungkook tugged you down onto his lap and wrapped his arms around your frame, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“Thank you…” He shakily sighed. You couldn’t truly understand the relief you brought him. It was his gratitude for everything— for being here with him, for putting up with his pathetic desperation, for making the thoughts that clouded his mind dissipate for only a second, and the list could go on really. You seriously were as amazing as he imagined.

“I didn’t know… it just— it felt so good, thank you… thank you.” He sweetly mumbled into your blouse. You would have never pictured Jungkook as the affectionate type, and your body and mind were struggling to keep up. You tried your best to ignore the way your heart was nearly beating out of your chest, instead choosing to just be there for him. If this is what he wanted, you’d happily oblige, doing whatever it took to make him feel better— to fix him.

“No need to thank me— if anything, thank you.” You laughed. You were just as guilty as Jungkook. All you could think about since Tuesday was Jungkook’s body pressed against yours in a heat of emotion. You thought giving him the cold shoulder would be enough to forget it all, but you were so easily pulled back in. You hated it, right now you wanted to avoid the consequences, but you couldn’t stop the growing warmth spreading through your body seeing him feel a little better.

You expected him to laugh along with you, but Jungkook’s gaze just held onto yours before his eyes started traveling down to where your bodies met. You were a little confused at first, but once his eyes met yours again, you realized you knew that look all too well.

Oh?

You watched with curious eyes as he started leaning in, curious what he might do considering how timid he was earlier. Maybe it was because he was still riding the high you gave him only minutes ago, but this time he easily pulled you in to meet his lips.

He was so gentle, he always was. You quickly realized you liked the way his kisses felt, the way he held you close. You didn’t hate it; you couldn’t hate this at all. The soft moment was over quickly though, as his hands started running along your body, instantly making the simmering flame reignite inside you. Your hands quickly found a place running through his long, damp hair, pulling him closer because the last thing you wanted right now was to be away from him.

All of a sudden, Jungkook wrapped his hands around you and hoisted you up onto the desk. He was standing between your legs, much like the position you found yourselves in a few days ago. Then his lips were on your neck, light, but more than enough for a soft moan to leave your lips before you could stop yourself. Your body was hot, and the urge to pull him closer was growing painful at this point.

“I want to make you feel good too,” Jungkook softly whispered against your skin. Dangerous, the words were so dangerous, and you wondered if he noticed the way your legs wrapped around his waist tighter, wanting to make that very wish come true.

“You’ve been so good to me— it feels so unfair, like I'm being too selfish. You’ve made me feel so good, you should too.” This is certainly not what you were expecting out of this interaction. You had imagined that since Jungkook was cheating on his wife with you, this was all going to be about the indulgence he couldn’t get from his wife. You were just the method he’d use to get himself off. It’s not like you entirely hated the idea of him using you for relief, you were here to help him after all, though anytime you’d think about it as an affair it made you sick. But you never thought there was anything in it for you.

Jungkook’s warm hands sliding up your thigh took you out of your thoughts, steadily pushing up your skirt in the process. When he held you like this, it was easy to forget where you were.

You placed your hand on his, stopping him from pushing it any further. You noticed his eyes glance down, and suddenly panic spread across his features as he quickly grew noticeably flustered.

“Oh— was I being too pushy? I’m sor—” You quickly shushed him, not wanting him to overthink it.

“It’s just— we’re still in your office in the middle of a work day,” you pointed out. It was easy to forget that in the heat of emotions. Plus, Jungkook had the blinds closed, the lamp on his desk the only lighting for the room. But the glimmer of sunshine slipping in from underneath the blinds was the sole indication that it was, in fact, the middle of the afternoon on a perfect, cloudless, sunny day.

Jungkook looked over at the windows as well, and you noticed the way his face flushed. It seemed he had forgotten as well.

“Ohhhh, right.” Jungkook shyly mumbled, clearly a little disappointed. “I’m sor—”

“Don’t apologize. I honestly want to take you up on the offer— just not here where someone might walk in again.” At the mere mention of Jungkook touching you, your body remembered how his fingers felt inside you that night. Despite his clear lack of experience being on the receiving end of pleasure, Jungkook somehow knew how to touch you in a way that made you see stars.

Jungkook pulled you a little closer. “I know a place— uh, only if you’re interested.” He quickly added, always so polite.

You gave him a look that told him to keep going.

“It’s a storage closet for most of the cleaning supplies and sometimes additional things for the office. Only the janitors use the room, but they hardly go in there since it’s not really a janitor's closet. They mainly use it for restocks of their supplies. Plus, no one can come in without the required access,” Jungkook explained, and it sounded perfectly like what you needed.

“I’m assuming that means you have access then?” You looked down at the lanyard he had sitting on his desk.

“I’m the only one aside from the janitors.” He shyly smiled.

You thought about it for a second before hopping off the desk. “Alright then, sounds like a plan. I have a meeting to get to and some work to do— but are you free at four?” You asked, trying your best to smooth down your hair and clothes.

Jungkook moved out of the way slightly, and from the corner of your eye, you could feel his gaze scanning over your body. You couldn’t stop the smirk spreading across your face.

“Uhhhh…” For a second, you wondered if waiting until four was too big of an ask.

“I can wait— yeah— four’s ok.” There was a shakiness to his words that made it seem like he didn’t entirely believe himself. He really was too cute.

You focused on trying to get yourself back to normal, working on your hair with only your hands as best you could. Jungkook helped you get the smeared lipstick off your face, and you helped him with a similar problem along with taming his hair and fixing his shirt so it didn’t look like you’d been tugging on it for the last half hour.

In the end, you were able to get yourself to look somewhat decent. You realized way too late that Jungkook had a mirror in his office and you were able to address the details that he might not have seen. Jungkook looked good too. Well, he always did, but maybe you might say he looked even better than when you first walked in?

He had this cute, dopey grin on his face, and the way you had messed up his hair made the soft curls cascade around his face in a way that made him look incredibly ethereal. He had what some might call a ‘glow,’ and it didn’t take much speculation to figure out what it might have been from.

A swell of pride filled your chest, along with a bit of relief knowing you were able to make him feel better, even if only for a short amount of time.

Your goodbye was brief. You knew your coworkers, Taehyung and Solmi especially, would be looking for you by now.

“See you at four,” you mentioned as you took one last look in the mirror. Jungkook had told you where the closet was, and he was sitting on his desk looking at you while you finished getting ready.

“Mhmmm” He lulled. “Can’t wait~” It was a shy admission that made this cute, boyish grin appear on his face.

You had to get out of here.

“Alright then, don't forget to eat lunch!” By the look on his face at your words, you knew he probably hadn’t even thought about it.

“Don’t forget… you’re on your lunch break after all.” You reaffirmed, knowing there was a chance he’d still forget even after your reminder.

“I won’t… see you later.” That same dopey smile appeared on his face and you had to physically tear yourself away so you could finally leave. Curse him and that face of his.

You were finally able to leave. You hastily sped past Secretary Yu, and in the corner of your eye, you caught her confusion at your sudden departure. You could only hope she hadn’t heard anything. You don’t know how long she was there…

•────•──────────•────•

Maybe you should have just taken Jungkook up on his offer to take you right there on his desk again. You had underestimated your own ability to wait. Jungkook had riled you up too much. Watching him lose himself from your mouth, with his eager need to reciprocate, made you excited.

You hated it. You hated this. Just like that night, you had left his office feeling good, but once you made it back to your desk, those feelings of guilt and shame came back all over again. You had to remind yourself a couple of times that this was a married man you were messing with. He had a wife, and you were jeopardizing any chance of their relationship ever improving. The thought of being a homewrecker, the other woman, made your skin crawl. You hated it.

This was wrong, and that was all you should be feeling as the weight of your actions started to sink in. You hated it even more because you were excited, painfully so, as you watched the time tick down.

Jungkook certainly didn’t help either. It seemed his eyes were on you any chance they’d get. The strange thing was you saw more of him today than you usually do. Jungkook liked to spend his days holed up in his office, aside from the meetings he was required to attend and oversee, but today things were different.

Jungkook was everywhere you turned, that same dopey look still on his face, and he always seemed to be staring at you. You wanted to scream at him because he couldn’t make it any more obvious, but you couldn’t because you liked his hungry gaze. It just fueled your thoughts about what might happen at four.

You were uncomfortably hot despite the freezing temperature outside. You were angry, you were way too horny, and as much as you should have been running away when the time finally struck four, you couldn’t have been happier.

Jungkook had texted you about an hour ago (you both had quickly exchanged numbers right before you left) that he was going to go about five minutes or so early to let you in and asked for you to wait a little while just in case anyone saw anything. Just like a few hours prior, you walked through the halls looking over your shoulder, closely analyzing to make sure no one was following or even seeing you in the hallway. It was more stressful than it should have been, but eventually, you made it to where Jungkook had instructed.

Storage Closet. Okay, this was it.

*Knock knock,* you paused for a second, and then followed it up with an additional two knocks. It had also been his idea to add a special, secret password just in case. You thought it was a little much, but he looked so cute while he came up with the code, so you let him have his fun.

It took a second, and you were a little scared that for some reason this wasn’t the right door, or that maybe Jungkook might not be there yet and you came too early. But right as your anxiety soared through the roof, a small crack opened in the doorway.

Lo and behold, peaking right through the door were the big, round, bewildered eyes of the man you were hoping for. You let out a sigh of relief as he opened the door further, revealing that it was just him in here like he promised. You looked around once more before going inside.

Jungkook had kept the lights off, but as he shut the door behind you, he finally turned on the dim light and you were able to see the space a little better. It was pretty much exactly what you expected. There were mainly shelves lined with cleaning supplies and the occasional surplus of office supplies, like a huge stack of printer paper that you quickly made note of to ask Jungkook about later because you were always running out in the copy room. Besides that, there were a couple of tables you were confused what they were for, but some lined the space where the shelves ended, and there was also one that sat right in the center of the room. The room wasn’t that big, smaller than Jungkook’s office, but not by much. It definitely wasn’t cramped, and you let out a sigh of relief knowing it wasn’t grimy like you had feared. Instead, it matched the rest of the modern sleekness of the office outside. It really was perfect.

You finally turned around to face Jungkook. He hadn’t said anything yet, but with the telling look in his eyes, he didn’t need to. You had only just noticed that Jungkook had gotten rid of his suit jacket, now just adorning his white button-up carefully tucked into his blue slacks with the sleeves rolled up. It all came together with a black belt with a shiny, gold buckle that glinted in the low light. You could only imagine how much it cost knowing the type of money he had. He looked good, too good. It’s like he had a long day at work, casting aside his jacket for a little more breathing room, and was now standing right in front of you. He looked casual, but classy in a way that made you squeeze your thighs together because, wow. With this look, you could even catch a glimpse of the tattoos that you had seen the other day. It was too much. You were too weak, and you just needed this man now.

“Sooooo…” you began, the silence starting to grow a little awkward.

Jungkook honestly didn’t know what to say. He was too busy drinking you in. The minute you left his office, he instantly regretted not asking if you had time to slip away to the storage room a little sooner. He was riding a high he didn’t know how to come down from. You had blown his mind. Sex had never felt that good, and you taking the initiative had been something he struggled to comprehend all day. It just made him even more eager to please you. You had been so nice, nicer than what he deserved, and he just wanted to make you feel even a sliver of what you gave him. He highly doubted it could compare, but anything to show you how grateful he was to have you here with him.

Jungkook had struggled to keep it together since the moment you left. His eyes found you easily as he was pulled out of his office far more often than usual. It was nice to see you, but it just made this moment that much harder to wait for. Now that you were in front of him…

Jungkook barely noticed you had spoken. Instead, his gaze fixated on your long legs, your sheer black stockings coming up all the way to meet your short, black pencil skirt. Your outfit was completed nicely with a red blouse and pointed stilettos, making you even more alluring. You had also done a bit more fixing up since you left his office. Your red lipstick was back to perfection and your hair was neatly styled back the way it was when you initially walked into his office.

He didn’t have the confidence to say it earlier, and he was honestly a little ashamed that it was even a thought in his head, but he liked the way you looked after he was done with you. Something about ruining your neatness made his length ache in a way he didn’t quite understand. It was embarrassing, and he knew he should be ashamed, but for some reason today, he just didn’t know how to act.

Jungkook’s feet acted faster than his mouth could. He was never the best with words anyway. Slowly, he approached you, and instinctively you moved back until your legs hit one of the tables that lined the walls. Jungkook was quick to close the gap, pulling you into another tight embrace that made it so easy to bury into your warmth. For a second he just took it in, loving how you felt in his arms, and you smelled so good too.

“Fuck.” He lightly moaned into your shirt, embarrassed at how easy it was to rile him up. It didn’t take much from Yuri, nor did it take a lot from you either. Maybe he was easy. Yuri has mentioned before how easy he was to please. Jungkook never knew exactly what that meant. He was just trying to be a good husband. It felt wrong to demand anything more than what Yuri offered… but maybe she was right.

However, he didn’t want to think about that now. You made it so easy to forget about his marriage when normally the only thing he could focus on was how much of a failure he was, how he was making Yuri miserable, and how he could make her happy only if he was a little better. Instead, it felt like the rest of the world melted away anytime he was in your presence. It might sound horrible, but he enjoyed the silence for once.

“Jungkook?” You finally questioned after he held onto you a little too long.

“Oh right, I’m sorry.” His face burned, worried you might think he was weird. He separated from you and went back over towards the door, where he held up his hand to the light switch.

“Not a lot of people come down this hallway. No one should bother us, but just in case, it might be better to keep the lights off so no one suspects we’re in here,” Jungkook added. It was both a legitimate reason and also an excuse to turn the lights off again. The lights were dim, but not dim enough, and the thought of you seeing him, disappointing you like he had done to Yuri so many times… he couldn’t do that. It would be easier this way.

“Oh? Smart thinking, sir.”

Jungkook quickly flipped the lights off, the only light now coming in was from underneath the door. Both of you could hardly see each other, but Jungkook was used to the dark. His eyes adjusted quickly to see a vague outline of your form standing by the desk.

“Mmmmm… What did I say about being so formal with me?” His tone was low, teasing almost, and when his hand grazed your arm, you practically jumped in surprise. It made you shiver when you realized he was so close.

“No Sir, no Mr. Jeon, no Director Jeon, no Head Director Jeon. It’s just Jungkook when we’re alone like this,” Jungkook mumbled slowly. He hated it, especially from you. It felt weird anytime anyone was formal with him, but he especially couldn’t stand the honorifics when you were both literally the same age. It felt wrong and fake, and that’s not what he wanted to be like with you.

“I got you. I’m sorry, Jungkook.” You made sure to emphasize his name since apparently he liked hearing it.

He did. He really did for some reason. Taking him out of the moment slightly, he had to stop himself from giggling at you trying to make him out in the dark, your squinting all too adorable. It made the horrible need to have you consume him in seconds.

Jungkook had his arms around you again, this time to lift you onto the table. He was gentle, like he always was, and he kept in close proximity. Having you this close again made his brain all fuzzy. Jungkook moved even closer and pulled you back into his arms.

“I missed you…” he sighed, an embarrassing confession but one that was true nonetheless. He couldn’t stop thinking about you since you’d left, and it felt so good to have you here.

You didn’t want to admit it either, but it felt so good to have him here as well. You sighed in relief as you pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck.

It was a moment of softness that neither of you were really prepared for. It was nice though; you couldn’t deny it. He gave great hugs, so warm and inviting. There was an unexpected sweet smell in the air around him. You could tell his cologne was expensive, it was soft and delicate, just like the wine he gifted you on Tuesday. You felt like you could get drunk from his very presence, and that just made the ache even worse.

“Jungkook, please—” you rushed out, and he was quick to respond. Jungkook pulled you close, finally closing the agonizing distance between you two. You both had run out of patience to be soft and you were too needy to take it slow, instead going straight in with hurried and desperate kisses.

Your lips chased after each other. Any moment apart felt like an eternity, and when his hands came up and gently tugged on your blouse, the room grew hot quickly. You both knew at the end of the day, as much as you wanted to savor this moment, you were still in the middle of the workday. This had to be quick.

Jungkook let his hand roam down your sides, touching and squeezing anything he could grab. Your blouse came first. He anxiously toyed with the few buttons it had and you both made quick work of undoing them until you could feel the chill air of the storage room on your chest. It made you remember what you had on underneath, and you cursed to yourself slightly when you realized it wasn’t anything cute, just a regular, plain black bra. But you found some relief in the fact that it was dark in here. You could still barely see Jungkook even after a few minutes had passed. However, Jungkook must have superhuman eyes because you felt him pull back for a second, and you thought you could see him staring because of the faint outline cast onto him from the light underneath the door.

And he was staring. How could he not? You took his breath away every time he saw you. You were too kind for doing this, and deep down he knew that it was likely because of how pitiful he looked. It was probably the only reason any of this was happening. You gave him the same look that everyone else did. Dr. Min, Jimin, Dae-Jung… he’d seen it too many times. He hated it. He hated the pity. They just didn’t understand, you didn’t either apparently, that he deserved everything he got.

To try and rid himself of his darkening thoughts, he quickly kissed you once again as his hand trailed up your thigh to push your short skirt up. It pleased him more than anything when he felt your soft skin, letting him know you were wearing thigh-highs once again.

Jungkook groaned into the kiss, a burning desire returning all too quickly. No, no— this was about you. As much as he might want to have you, he was being too greedy. Even though Yuri wasn’t here, he could hear her words filled with disappointment at him for being so selfish. You already fucked him a few days ago, and despite his pathetic begging, you gave him his first blowjob. It had been all about him so far, and you’d given more than he ever deserved. If he could only stop thinking with his dick for five seconds, maybe he could make you feel even a quarter of what you gave him—

Tears pricked his eyes with just the feeling of having you so close as your hands ran over his shirt—

“Wanna make you feel good…” Jungkook said, far too shakily. His hand snaked in between your bodies, his eager fingers shocked to meet the wetness of your panties.

“Please, Jungkook, please,” you cried out as quietly as you could. You couldn’t take it anymore. He quickly learned he wasn’t like Yuri; begging worked far too well on him.

Jungkook stepped out from between your legs to give himself a little more room. But right before you could complain at the distance, Jungkook put a reassuring grip on your waist and his other hand traced the expanse of your covered thighs ever so lightly. Your breath was shaky the closer he grew to where you wanted— no, needed him, as his fingers lightly ran over your stockings, your body going into overdrive anytime he’d inch a little closer.

“Fuck—” you whined, enjoying the light teasing, but you wanted more. You had no idea what he was doing, but every touch felt so sensitive. He finally pushed past your skirt and played with the hem of your stockings, pulling them back and letting them snap lightly back into place.

You both moaned.

“You’re so hot, I—” Jungkook groaned, but didn’t finish what he was going to say because something about that seemed to have set him off. He buried his face in your neck, quickly planting desperate kisses along your skin as his hand finally made their way to your panties once more, rubbing the soaked fabric.

The way you practically yelped when you felt his fingers running over your slit was a little embarrassing. The way he made you feel didn’t make any sense. Jungkook knew just the way to touch you that had you practically bucking into his hand as he finally settled his fingers on your clit. Despite his lack of experience in other subjects, Jungkook certainly knew how to touch the little bud the right way, though he already proved that to you the last time.

You gripped the table hard as waves of pleasure traversed your whole body, stimulating an eagerness you hadn’t felt in a while. It reminded you of college, being on your own for the first time in your life, and how that freedom came with a need to explore. It was good. You both didn’t know each other’s bodies yet, but you still found ways to make each other feel good and forget about the countless deadlines that loomed over you.

Jungkook gave you that rush all over again. A youthful rush that you only thought was possible to feel before you hit your second decade.

He must have noticed your growing frustration because his fingers finally pulled the soaked fabric to the side, and you were able to feel him without any barrier in the way. You were absolutely soaked, embarrassingly so. Over the buzzing of the AC in the background, the squelches of his fingers running through your drenched folds filled the room and made your cheeks burn.

In the dark all your senses were heightened. You felt Jungkook’s body on yours and his soft sighs of pleasure right in your ear as he rubbed himself lightly against your thigh. In the heat of it, you could tell he was holding himself back, how he wanted more but seemed keen on his promise to make you feel good this time.

Your body grew hotter by the second and the moment his fingers settled on your clit once again, drawing fast, teasing circles, while you struggled not to scream out loud. You quickly had to wrap your hands around his shoulders to stop yourself from crying out for any unlucky coworker who happened to be walking by to hear.

Even though the closet was slightly secluded in a hallway not many usually walked through, it certainly wasn’t far from where they did. You could even hear them in the far distance, the sounds of murmured voices growing louder before fading off, or the hurried clicking of heels through the tiled halls. They would definitely hear if you weren’t quiet.

But Jungkook was making that almost an impossible task by the way he was touching you. And you only wanted more.

“Jungkook!” His name tumbled from your lips far too loudly, your mind a little fuzzy, but you just needed him.

Suddenly, you felt a soft kiss on your cheek and then another one on your neck, a little slower this time in pulling away.

“Can I taste you?” Jungkook lightly moaned in your ear, so gentle and soft in the way he asked. Tingles spread through your whole body and a whole new wave of arousal soaked his fingers.

It was criminal how pretty he sounded.

“Please,” you whined as quietly as you could, tears pricking your eyes. You’d never been so turned on before. The shame at the realization that this was happening at your workplace filled you for a second, but Jungkook pulling his hand away and lightly running over your thigh quickly brought you back.

You groaned as you watched his faint outline move back between your legs and drop down to his knees. You could see the faint glimmer of his eyes as he bent down, his eager, yet innocent expression a deadly combination in such a compromising position like this one. But his innocence proved to be merely a facade. Jungkook quickly placed your legs over his shoulders, wrapped his arms around your thighs to hold them in place, and tugged you closer to the edge of the table. He was close enough that you could feel his shaky breath against your soaked folds. A shudder ran through your body. Maybe it was good you couldn’t really see him. You already knew you enjoyed the sight of him on his knees too much.

Suddenly, you felt light kisses trailing up your thigh, getting closer and closer to where you wanted him. “Want to make you feel good,” Jungkook softly sighed. “Just want to make someone feel good.” It was quiet, and you only just picked it up before Jungkook buried himself between your thighs.

You were certainly unprepared. Your mind was too fuzzy, all you knew was you needed to feel him. But your assumption about his lack of experience was once again proved to be incorrect.

Jungkook instantly got to work pleasing your body, planting soft kisses along the expanse of your inner thighs, growing closer until you whined when he kissed between your soaked folds. You had to swallow back a moan when you felt his tongue licking run up your slit. He was eager and didn't hold back once he found your clit. You groaned, feeling the tentative patterns he drew around the bud, skilled, knowing exactly what to do to have you seeing stars already.

“Fuck.” You wanted to scream, cry out, do something. The fact you couldn’t, turned you on in a way that confused you, but also frustrated you to no end.

Your hand raked through his hair, moving him closer and making sure he didn’t pull away anytime soon. You knew you could cum from this if he kept at it long enough. You never knew how much a little foreplay could rile you up, but for some reason you found yourself close to the edge already, even though he’d barely started.

Jungkook really didn’t need to do too much to affect you, but he was such an eager boy, desperate to please, and he wanted to give you the full experience despite the dwindling time you had before someone would start questioning where you both were.

Jungkook pulled away slightly and replaced his tongue with enthusiastic fingers, going back to pumping you with two, and tears pricked your eyes when he managed to fit in a third.

“Oh! Fu-oh,” you cried, and Jungkook couldn’t help but think the sounds you made were the hottest thing he’d ever heard.

Yuri wasn’t loud— Jungkook never knew how to take it, whether that meant he was doing a good job or not or if she was just on the quieter side. The only reason why he didn’t go crazy thinking it must be because he was terrible was because it was the only regular aspect of their sex lives. But with you, he decided he preferred the cute way you tried your best to keep quiet, but occasionally when he’d touch you just right, you’d make these adorable squeaks.

Your hand had found its way into his hair again, and with the way you held him close, you were practically fucking yourself against his tongue. You were a little rough, your grip tight, but he liked the way it stung. Your desperation was affecting him and he just wanted to make you feel good. He liked the way you were using him. It felt good to be used, needed, wanted, even if it was just for a second.

He was sloppy, not bothering to try and keep things classy. His mouth was practically covered in your arousal, but he loved it. You tasted amazing. Seeing you like this was amazing. Even though it was dark, he could see the way your eyebrows were furrowed by the faint glow coming through the cracks in the door. You were breathtaking. It made the strain in his slacks worsen, seeing you turn into a mess the longer he kept going. He was hardly keeping it together as it was. You probably felt it before he even dropped to his knees. He was hard, but he had to keep it together. This was about you, only you.

What would Yuri say if she knew how riled up he was getting even after you already gave him so much? She would be disappointed and so would you. He’s been so selfish. He just had to make you feel good—

Jungkook hoped you wouldn’t notice, but he was crying again. One tear fell, then two, then they just wouldn’t stop.

Jungkook groaned into your pussy, a mix of frustration and delight. You were so good, he had to be good for you too. And that seemed to be what it took to get you to start hurdling off the edge.

“Koo— Jungkook— fuck— fuck— close.” Your feeble attempts at being quiet were all in vain as your desperation grew for sweet release.

Jungkook was somehow able to make sense of your whimpering and quickly picked up the pace. He hastily switched back to using his mouth and wanted more than anything for you to finish on his tongue.

He was back with his skilled tongue, and your sensitivity brought you to the edge all too quickly. Jungkook focused on your bundle of nerves again, going from tracing to sucking to the point that you were a writhing mess in his arms. Your thighs tightened around his face, your grip in his hair growing tighter, making him groan out, the pleasure and pain a combination that made the ache somehow even worse. You were shaking in his grasp, your hushed whines growing more incoherent, and oh— he wanted to see you cum.

He felt like he could cum all over again. Embarrassing.

It wasn’t long after that Jungkook watched with eager eyes as you fell apart on his tongue. Wave after wave of pleasure kept hitting you. Jungkook helped you ride it out, easing up a bit, but staying close. You felt like you were riding on cloud nine, and for a second you even forgot where you were. The little closet disappeared, the company building disappeared, maybe the whole world vanished, leaving your mind in a state of bliss. It was just you and Jungkook and the overwhelming blissful end he gave you.

It took more than a moment for you to recover, your ragged breathing filling the space as you tried to pull yourself together. Jungkook eventually pulled away when you started to whine from the overstimulation.

It had never felt like that before. You could only imagine what type of pleasure he’d bring you under better conditions. This was going to be a problem. This was going to have to end one day, and you couldn’t get too attached.

After some time, Jungkook shakily rose to his feet. His body felt like it was on fire. You had nearly made him cum as he watched you reach your peak, it was too hot seeing you like that. Normally someone who’s always so put together and neat, you looked like a complete mess, and it just reaffirmed his earlier concern that, in fact, he enjoyed seeing you like that.

Horrible, wasn’t it?

Jungkook could hardly look away, his body screaming out to have you. The thought of walking out when he felt like this was unbearable, but this was about you, this needed to be about you. He didn’t want to disapp—

Then all of a sudden, your hands were on his shoulders, pulling him closer in an instant. He was back between your legs, and before he could question it any further, you were pulling him in for a fervent kiss.

You seemed not to care that he was still covered in your juices and Jungkook had to fight back the urge to buck into you like a wild animal at the thought. Yuri hated when he tried to kiss her afterward, she hated kissing him anyways.

He settled into it, one hand on your waist, the other lightly cupping your cheek. As much as he was trying to control himself, you made it impossible with the way your hands raked over his body, the thread of self-control he tried to maintain for your sake quickly withered away. With each second, he grew closer, to the point you were pressed right against each other. You could certainly feel it now, the way his body pleaded for yours. Jungkook had to quickly pull away, his eyes growing watery all over again.

“Wait!” He cried. He didn’t want to stop. He didn’t want to at all. He could see your confusion in the darkness.

“This was about you— I promised— I—” It hurt so badly. He wanted you so badly.

You relaxed at his words.

“Well, I want you, so—” You started to rationalize, but Jungkook wasn’t having it.

“But—”

Instead of going back and forth and letting this turn into a long discussion, you decided to take action instead. Your hands found their way to his belt and quickly started to undo the strap. His breath was heavy as the buckle jingled when you finally managed to get it undone, and you didn’t give him any time to process before you went for his pants next and reached in to pull him out.

Jungkook groaned into your shoulder, feeling your hand wrap around his length. You lightly ran your hand down to the base and then back up, tracing your thumb along his leaky tip.

“Oh— oh— oh!” You were making it so hard for him. It was cruel. “I’ll wait, I’ll…I’ll…” The words were for himself more than you. He needed to keep himself in line, he had to.

“Mmmm, you certainly don’t feel like you want to wait,” you chuckled breathlessly. It was only meant to be a light tease, but you felt him shaking. His soft sniffles let you know he was actually crying.

“I’m sorry…” he sobbed. He felt like he had disappointed you. His body had betrayed him in a way that made Yuri scream at him anytime he tried to pull her close afterward. He wasn’t in control, he should be better than this, she’d always say.

“Jungkook, didn't you hear me earlier? I said I wanted you.” Instead of the degradation he was expecting, the softness of your voice as you pulled him a little closer melted him in your grasp. You couldn’t even imagine the things he’d been told that would make him think this way.

You couldn’t really see it, but Jungkook was staring at you wide-eyed. For some reason, he was having issues processing your words. They just didn’t make sense. He had already taken too much, hadn’t he? But the simple thought of you wanting more had him subtly moving his cock within your grip.

“Do you want to do this?” You asked when you noticed his movement.

Despite your confession earlier, Jungkook found it hard to admit how much he wanted to fuck you. You took it upon yourself to help him, bringing his tip to your soaked folds and letting it run through your arousal.

“Fuck— Y/n!” he whined. It instantly got a reaction from him, his need soaring beyond all reason. He couldn’t think straight anymore, and all he could focus on was the thought of finally slipping inside you again, just like he’d been imagining over the last few days.

“Do you want this?” You repeated, still so soft. Not a demand that he had to fulfill, but a genuine question asking if he wanted more from this.

For a second, he didn’t answer, the sound of his breathing growing more labored as you ran his cock up and down your slick. He couldn’t answer. You felt so good and he was trying his best to get back in control, to not be so weak as Yuri would always say, but you made it so hard.

He wanted to fuck you, and he probably would have pushed into you right then and there if suddenly he didn’t remember something.

“I— I still don’t have any condoms with me,” Jungkook cried, tears slipping down his cheeks as he fell into your shoulder. Fuck— how was he going to walk away from this?

“We don’t need one— I’m still on the pill, remember?” You pulled him away so you could look him in the eye. “If you’re ok with it, we could continue, but if you’re not comfortable doing that again, that’s completely fine.” You smiled, and there was genuine concern behind your gaze.

Jungkook normally wasn’t the risky type when it came to sex. He barely had sex enough for a habit like that to even be established, but with Yuri he was always so careful. She would never forgive him for even taking the chance of getting her pregnant, and he didn’t want it either. Not when he was like this, clinging to life by only a few short strands. With Yuri, he made sure things were right no matter his desperation, but with you… Once was risky enough, the heat of emotions causing protection to completely slip his mind. He had remembered this time, but after hearing your reassurance, his usual caution was thrown to the wind and all he could care about was feeling you.

In a haste, Jungkook took it upon himself to finally guide his cock into your warmth, moving your hand out of the way while he grabbed his length and finally slipped it into your slick hole. He watched your expression intently as it turned from surprise into bliss, pleasure overtaking your features, and you just looked so pretty. It made his desperation worse as your tight warmth enveloped him. You were so wet; he slipped in so easily, like you needed him just as badly as he needed you.

Jungkook had to fight back the urge to sob. After so many days of playing your night together over and over in his head, his imagination could never compare to how good you felt in real life. Despite his earlier indulgence, Jungkook had to fight tooth and nail to deter himself from filling you up right away. You had had to deal with that once already, he couldn’t disappoint you— not again. The fact that you were even doing this with him was gracious enough. He couldn’t keep putting you through his failures.

Jungkook tried to slow his breathing down while he waited for you to get adjusted and for himself to calm down enough to move without instantly blowing his load. Even now, you were making it difficult in the way you were squeezing around him, and he already knew he wouldn’t last very long no matter how hard he tried.

You noticed he was tense and planted a few kisses across his cheeks, but Jungkook pushed your face so your lips would finally meet his again, engaging in another passionate kiss that only made you squeeze somehow even tighter around him.

Jungkook broke the kiss and let out something between a groan and a whine. “Fuck— fuck— I—” He wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t just going to cum right then and there. Embarrassing.

“I’m sorry— so sorry.” He cried. “I don’t think I’ll make it very long…” You would probably want nothing to do with him after this.

You went back to kissing his cheeks. “Don’t stress, ok? Fuck me how you want to, don’t hold back for me.” Your warm smile could be seen even in the darkness. You looked like an angel…

Your words set a fire inside him. Fuck me how you want to— you were far too nice for someone as pathetic as he was. But as shameful as it was, he enjoyed your sympathy.

Jungkook didn’t hold back anymore and finally started moving his hips. You both moaned, but quickly realized the volume of your mistake, pulling each other into another kiss instead. You both swallowed each other's cries amidst the sounds of clothes ruffling, and the wet, slick sound of his quickening pace pumping into your heat. The table you were sitting on started to creak with his hurried struggle to properly feel you again.

Jungkook rolled his hips in a way that made your toes curl and had you struggling to keep quiet. He was good, settling into a nice, rhythmic roll after a few desperate thrusts in the beginning. His size filled you up in all the right places, a satisfying stretch that you could more than just grow used to.

It wasn’t long before you both had turned into a tangled mess of limbs trying to feel each other. Jungkook had buried himself in your shoulder. Kissing you grew impossible. Instead, he cried out as silently as he could into your skin.

He managed to delay his release for longer than he had expected, but the rush still came on quicker than he would have liked.

“Close!” He whined as quietly as he could before picking up the pace. He couldn’t last much longer with the way you were squeezing around him. It was all too much, and before he could even try and hold it back any longer, his hips stilled and he filled you up with everything he could give.

Jungkook quickly pulled you into a kiss as his hand made its way between your bodies, and his fingers hastily found your clit again. He started making hurried motions around the bud until you were clinging onto his shoulders while your next orgasm surged through your body. You both were out of breath as the heat of the moment began to simmer down. It was the first moment he was finally able to think clearly again. There was one half of him that looked at you with the utmost admiration, someone far too kind to be messing with him. He never thought he could get enough of you. Then there was the other half…

The post-bliss clarity made him look at the situation as it truly was. He was cheating. This had truly turned into cheating. He’d betrayed Yuri’s trust, and there was nothing he could ever do to regain it. He didn't deserve to. But as horrible as it was, Jungkook found himself wanting to do it with you all over again, to have you in his arms so the world would melt away and he could just indulge.

But unfortunately, the other half looked at you with the same shame and disgust he held for himself. All you were now was a reminder of how horrible of a person he’d become, and he couldn’t stand it.

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