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joheunsaram · 3 years

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glitter and disquiet (jjk) - 1

Part of the Sons of Midas Collab

Part 1 | Part 2 | Drabble

Summary- Poised to inherit Korea’s largest gaming company in a few months, the world looks at Jeon Jungkook as a symbol of envy. Why wouldn’t they? He has everything, riches, power, and according to the rumour mill, endless women. Little do they know that his father’s company is on the verge of downfall, he barely has respect of his employees, and regardless of the rumours, he’s just a virgin saving himself for true love.

word count - 18.5k (buckle up buckaroooos!)

pairing- ceo!Jungkook x youtuber!Reader

rating- R

genre- angst, smut, fluff, chaebol!au

warnings- virgin!Jungkook, mentions of cheating, divorce, open relationships, descriptions of anxiety and stress, car accident, hospitals, smut in the form of oral sex (m and f receiving), Jungkook is a hopeless romantic but wbk

a.n- Well here it is martians (did i make my own fandom name for a fandom that doesnt exist? yes, sir. ty marketing 101 in uni lmfao)! The collab that I forced all friends to do with me. Thank you @hobiandsprite, @taegularities, @oftenderweapons, @biaswreckme, @honeyj00ns for enabling my 3am thoughts. I truly love and appreciate you all!

This is an angsty piece that I challenged myself with because I wanted to create holistic characters rather than just focusing on romance (dw theres lots of that there too!).

I hope you enjoy this! See you next month for the second part hehe!

A big warm thank you to @oftenderweapons @hobiandsprite and @taegularities for beta reading this monster even though i didn’t finish it till a few hours ago! ily guys you keep me sane and happy 💕

As always feedback appreciated, a reblog and a like goes a far way. Send me an ask! 💌

Sometimes, when he was all alone, or when he was working hard, Jungkook felt it. A little tug on his little finger. It didn’t hurt nor burn, but left behind tingles. A little spark that lifted his finger into the air involuntarily. It was pretty prominent when he was younger but not much anymore. Now, much to his disappointment, it came rarely.

His doctor said it was most likely muscle fatigue, but Jungkook liked to believe in old myths instead. He wasn’t superstitious, but he liked the idea that somewhere, there was another person whose pinky twitched the same time as his - that some ancient omnipotent god had tied the two of them up with an invisible thread. A thread that may tangle, or expand, or shorten, but would always lead him to the one he was meant to be with.

Perhaps this belief was silly, a dreamer’s hyperbole, but Jungkook really really wanted it to be true. He couldn’t understand the point of life otherwise. Would god really be cruel enough to create the crushing monotony of existence without creating the reprieve of a partner to bear it with?

His pinky twitched as it rested against the gold plated rim of the dainty white porcelain coffee cup his mother insisted on using. He would have to refill it at least three times to fill his daily morning dose of caffeine but he would never take away the little joy his mother got from having the family eat brunch on the vintage china she bought at an auction last month.

“Son, are you listening to me?” his father asked in a huff, breaking him out of his thoughts. He wasn’t thinking about much in particular, his eyes following the sunlight that filtered through the overhead umbrella that shaded the small family of three. It reflected off the little coffee pot in the centre of the round grand crystal table, creating little fragments of colourful beams that danced on the surface.

“Sorry dad,” he apologized with a little smile, his nose scrunching in a way he knew would endear his father. His mother laughed at his attempt at buttering up his father, who as if on cue rolled his eyes with a similar smile of his own.

“As I was saying before you ignored me, I think we should announce you taking over the company at your birthday party in a few months,” his father continued proudly, waving the butter knife he was using around with flair while his scone remained forgotten on the flowered side plate. Jungkook was used to his father’s certain excitement when it came to the family business.

“Do you think that’s wise? He’s barely done school!” his mother spoke, exasperated. Jungkook could see the lines on her face as she scowled at her husband. He frowned, only just realizing how old his parents looked, wrinkles much more prominent and frames slightly thinner than he remembered. The last time he had seen them hadn’t been that long ago, barely a few months, but he was always jarred by how different they looked from his recollections. His memories still held the images of them from when he was a teenager still living in the immaculately modern mansion he called home.

“Yes. There’s a reason I didn’t ask you, Kyungsoo,” he sneered at his wife, the previous softness in his features turning to stone. “This is my son and my company. He’s ready, aren’t you, Jungkook?”

Along with their frailty, their dislike of each other was also something that Jungkook seemed to always forget about. He knew his parents weren’t happy with each other — he had learnt that a long time ago. As a child, he used to hear them arguing, passive aggressively trying to cut each other’s self esteem with snide remarks, but in the rose colored crevices of his mind, he only remembered how his father had surprised his mother with a hundred roses in the living room when he was ten, or the way he’d once caught them dancing in silence in the living room when he was in highschool. Jungkook had no doubt in his mind that they loved each other, but he’d be amiss if he tried to convince himself that they liked each other.

He couldn’t help wishing that they found love again. It was a kid’s wish, he knew that, but he just wanted his parents to see the best in each other like they used to.

“Dad -”

“He’s our son, Jaehwa, let him enjoy his twenties. He doesn’t need to get right into work after graduating,” she scoffed, plucking the cloth napkin off her lap and tossing it beside her as she glared at her husband.

“Well, mom—”

“He’s smart and resourceful, he’s going to take over. The sooner the better and frankly I don’t understand why you have to—”

“Mom, dad. Please,” Jungkook interrupted the argument, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips. “Please don’t argue. Dad, yes I’d love to start whenever you want me to,” he said looking at his father who beamed smugly at his wife in response. “And mom, don’t worry. I am enjoying my twenties.” He patted his mother’s hand as she shook her head in defeat before heaving a sigh.

“Just so you know, it is your decision when to take over the company. You can take your time if you want,” Kyungsoo emphasized, a hand on his, her expression serious despite the way his father snorted.

“I know, mom. I want to,” he said with a smile, his hand holding on to hers.

“Well now that that’s settled, Jungkook, we have to discuss something very important.” His father seemed almost nonchalant, expertly ignoring the icy argument that had just occurred at the breakfast table, his tone once again light and airy.

“Jaehwa, let’s not discuss business at the table. We’ve barely seen Jungkook since he started school…”

“It’s okay mom,” Jungkook said before cutting into his poached eggs, taking a large bite, much to his mother’s disappointment. Jaehwa was not one to let go of a topic easily, and although Jungkook felt a twinge of guilt in his stomach at continuing to placate his father, he knew it was the easier thing to do. “Go ahead, dad.”

“That’s my son!” Jaehwa beamed, mirroring his son’s action and digging into his breakfast. “So as you know the ChampCon is not doing well. I think the first thing you can do to really get the board on your side is provide an alternate revenue generator.”

Jungkook categorically did not know that Champions Confederation, shortened by fans as ChampCon, was not doing well. ChampCon was the product of his father’s blood and tears and the golden product of Jaunty Games that launched more than two decades ago, and was the sole reason his family could afford their opulent lifestyle, raking in millions of dollars a year. The massive multiplayer online game had not only built their family’s empire, but had changed the way online games were perceived, garnering a cult following that soon became mainstream, with e-sport teams and cosplay events. Every new feature launched had millions of people reviewing it, making ChampCon trend worldwide almost weekly.

To hear that Jaunty’s darling was failing made Jungkook’s skin erupt in goosebumps, his stomach turning — a feeling he hadn’t experienced since his father sat him down the day before he started his MBA and explained in excruciating detail the duties of running such a massive business. He could feel his breaths getting shallower as his father explained how competitors were basically stealing the mechanics of the game and rebranding it as their own, how game mechanics couldn’t be copyrighted, so it was Jungkook’s responsibility to create an alternative that would not only help balance out the revenue lost, but maybe even turn out to be bigger than ChampCon itself.

As his father’s eyes glittered with pride, Jungkook felt his earlier confidence dwindling. He had so adamantly told his mother that he was ready to take over, but it took less than a few minutes for reality to come knocking at his door. Jungkook was not a game designer. Sure, he had great grades, his graduate degree wrapping up soon with almost a perfect GPA, but he hadn’t even touched a game in years. How was he supposed to apparently save his father’s legacy from biting the dust?

“So, any ideas yet?” his father prodded, finishing his monologue as he finished the last of his eggs.

“Dad… you literally just told me this. Give me time, please,” Jungkook joked, trying desperately to hide his panic behind an airy tone. He hadn’t noticed his mother had left the table, and with no appetite left, he thought the timing was perfect to escape. Pushing his plate away, he sipped the last of his orange juice, and with an excuse about an upcoming presentation, he headed to exit the terrace, hoping the way his legs were shaking was not too obvious. But, of course, his father wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t make a parting remark.

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something great!” his father cheered, wiping his mouth on a napkin, and keeping pace with Jungkook as he walked him to the front door. “And remember, we don’t do this for the money,” he began, only to be cut off by his son’s sigh.

“We do it for the Lees in accounting who have six kids to feed,” Jungkook finished his father’s catchphrase, feeling the pressure on his chest and the pulse of his veins increase as he hugged his father farewell, opting to text his mother instead of showing either of his parents what truly laid beneath the facade of their perfectly calm and responsible son.

----------

The din of the bar was a familiar reprieve from daily life, the little clinks of beer glasses as various men in suits celebrated after a hard day exchanging stocks or manipulating facts in courts. The mahogany of the room reflected the hazy lights from the various dimmed chandeliers that lined the ceilings, the air scented with alcohol and sandalwood. The bar catered to a much older crowd, men escaping from their wives, women looking to lure said men for their fortunes.

It wasn’t a place for the heirs of Korea’s largest companies to gather, yet there in the corner table, hidden from the cacophony of singles mingling near the bar, sat three. Their combined impact on Korea’s GDP could astound even the stoic of people, yet the air around them was relaxed, filled with laughter and banter.

“Hyung, I’m serious!” Jungkook whined, downing his fifth tumbler of whiskey in two hours. “I don’t think I can do it. I’m not… what’s the word?”

“An asshole?” Taehyung suggested, a wide smile on his face as he watched his friend struggle with his words.

“A misogynistic old man?” Candy chimed in, taking a sip of her scotch, as she grooved to the canned jazz that played through the speakers.

“Noona! Are you implying my dad’s a misogynist?” Jungkook questioned, mouth agape as he forgot his earlier worries in defense of his father.

“He did try to say that me learning Taekwondo was not becoming of a woman,” she replied, a fake sugary smile adorning her features as she antagonized her best friend.

“That was when you beat me up!” Jungkook protested, neglecting his drink to wave his hands in her direction as he always did when he got riled up, and oh did Candy love it.

“As I recall, you deserved it,” she sneered.

He did deserve it. Very much so.

Jungkook had just started highschool. A timid, scrawny version of the man that sat in the bar, and Candy had somehow taken pity on him and taken him under her wing. Jungkook would forever be grateful for her, for he owed her the friend group he called family now. However, their friendship didn’t truly take off until the day Candy showed up to school in a bastardized version of her uniform, one that not only led to her colourful nickname, but for Jungkook’s eyes to be glued to her chest, his palms sweating and heartbeat accelerating. He couldn’t help it. He was fourteen and his hormones were too novel to control yet. He could never have predicted that he would zone out of the conversation in favour of staring at her cleavage, his mouth suddenly much too dry.

What was not unpredictable was the way Candy swiftly, and with much too much force, slapped him across the face, rattling his brain and his heart all in one. Jungkook would never admit it out loud, but he thought that was the moment he found his first love, beaten into him; transferred from the heat of her palm to his soul.

It was a schoolyard crush, he supposed, but even now in the dim lights of the bar, he truly thought Candy was one of the most beautiful women he had ever met, not only in looks but also in the ways she challenged him, which made him feel anew. Now his feelings were more like those of a far away admirer now, a confidant, a friend. He knew far too much about her love for Hoseok to ever have the hope that used to blossom in his chest in his teen years. That hope had slowly extinguished each time Hoseok broke her heart and she mended it, only to hand it back to the same man.

Now it simmered below his consciousness, a lingering emotion held together by the belief that if he was truly meant to be hers, she would find a way to him through the chaos of her life and the quiet of his.

“Can you stop bullying him?” Taehyung interjected, shaking his head but with a face full of mirth as he started to console his drunk friend. Candy merely stuck her tongue out in response, settling back into the leather booth as she signalled for the waitress to bring another bottle for the table.

“Jungkook, there’s nothing wrong with being worried about taking over, trust me,” Taehyung continued, placing a hand on Jungkook’s thigh. Jungkook merely stared at his lap, the energy sapping from his body as the topic returned to his imminent CEO position. It is not that Jungkook didn’t think he was capable. He was objectively the most qualified person for the job, having trained for the role since birth. Not only did he have a perfect GPA from highschool upto grad school now, he had also been working at the company every Tuesday and Thursday since he completed his bachelors.

Jungkook had no doubt in his skill, but every time he thought about the looming position, he felt his chest cave in from the pressure — odd, unfounded insecurities taking seed in his mind, regardless of his friends’ efforts. He was lucky enough to be friends with people who shared the same fate, thrusted into greatness inherited, but he couldn’t help feeling unprepared by comparison. Almost all of his friends had inherited their companies by now, and not one of them seemed to bat an eyelash at the monumental responsibility. It made him feel more anxious; perhaps he was broken, maybe that’s why he seemed to be sprinting towards milestones that never arrived while his friends eased into them at a mere stroll.

“You’ll do great, Bunny. You’re perfect for the job,” Candy said gently, patting his shoulder, knowing full well the secrets of Jungkook’s lack of confidence. Though he appeared as a mysterious, stoic bachelor to the public, he was an open book to his close friends.

“I know. I know! It’s just… what if I’m the reason that we go under and people lose jobs, and I don’t know…” Jungkook trailed off, a tattooed hand running through his hair as he poured yet another finger of whiskey into his glass. He sighed as the liquid burned his throat, colouring his taste buds in a soothing bitter warmth.

“Oh god! Please tell me, Uncle Jeon isn't still giving you that speech?” Candy scrunched her nose, shaking her head.

“Ah! ‘We don’t do this for the money son’,” Taehyung chimed in, his voice much lower than his usual baritone in an attempt to mimic Jungkook’s father and chest puffed out in a fashion that could only be described as ‘uppity’.

“‘We do it for the Lees in accounting who have six kids to feed’” Candy completed the phrase, her mocking mannerisms matching those displayed by Taehyung, and in his inebriated mind, the only thing he could think of was to laugh — their impressions were pretty spot on. Mouth wide open in glee, Jungkook cackled, turning heads, as he attempted to catch his breath. He knew it was a good idea to go out tonight.

“I love you guys,” Jungkook said, smiling widely in a way that scrunched his nose and melted his friends’ hearts.

“We love you too, Jungkookie,” the two sang as they hugged him from both sides, squishing his broad frame till he felt small and coddled, love radiating through him. It reminded him of high school when Jungkook spent hours in his classes waiting for lunch or school to end so he could be reunited with his friends, who all somehow seemed to be much older than him. They always hugged him when he caught up to them, and although they were all grown adults and cheesy hugs were a thing of the past, it still filled him with the same sense of belonging. Like he could make any mistake and they would forgive him.

Jungkook felt lighter by the end of the night, not only because the alcohol running through his veins made him feel invincible, but because amidst the reminiscing and quips, the duo had built a strategy for him to start research into a new game. When Taehyung tucked him into his bed that night, Jungkook felt ready, the upcoming responsibility morphing from an insurmountable burden into an exciting challenge. And if there was one thing that Jungkook enjoyed, it was a challenge.

-----------

“Good morning, Mr Jeon!”

“Would you like a coffee?”

“No appointments for you today.”

“The numbers for this quarter are on your table.”

Jungkook smiled at his staff, still wondering why in the world his father needed a fleet of assistants, including a Chief of Staff for some reason. It seemed extremely frivolous, but he supposed it helped lessen his workload.

Settling into his chair, he turned on his computer. Last night’s drinks took their revenge as he massaged his temples, willing the pain to subside. For a fleeting moment he wondered how much of a fool he’d acted like in front of Candy. He had no reason to be haunted by his actions, he remembered the night perfectly, but he still felt an ache in his heart. He sighed at the knock at his door, curtly granting permission to the visitor to enter.

“Hey Jungkook, how are you today?” His father’s, well soon, his Chief of Staff, Seungwon, walked in with a pile of documents, placing them on the desk in front of him.

“I’m good, uncle Seungwon. Just trying to brainstorm for the new game, you know how it is,” Jungkook replied with a small smile.

“Ah I told you! Call me Seungwon at work! You don’t want to lose your authority now do you?” Seungwon joked, watching the endearing way the young man in front of him got slightly flustered at the request. He had known Jungkook since he was practically a toddler, waddling around in his father’s office, pretending to read documents and attend phone calls. For the most part, Jungkook considered him a second father. Seungwon was the first employee his father had hired after the initial founding team, and in a sense he had always been around, first as the general admin officer for the company, and then as his executive assistant after the company grew.

“Okay, Mr Cha,” Jungkook shook his head with a smile. “What do you have for me today?”

“These are the numbers for ChampCon for the past ten years, including every new feature introduced and the analysis of how well it did or did not do. Jaehwa asked me to make sure you have them, so you can brainstorm better.”

“Yay! I’m so excited,” Jungkook rolled his eyes, sarcasm dripping from his tone as he looked at the giant pile in front of him dejectedly. This was definitely worse than all the readings he had to do this semester. He kind of wished he could show this to those Instagram entrepreneur influencers that talk about the glamour of being a CEO.

“I suggest you get yourself a coffee to start — and stop thinking about girls,” Seungwon winked at him as Jungkook blinked in response. How did he know? As if reading his thoughts, Seungwon gestured to the notebook under Jungkook’s arm and he groaned, looking at the multiple doodles of little toffees he had subconsciously made. Deciding to take his advice, he followed him out of the office in search of coffee, needing a short break to reset his brain.

He headed to the cafeteria the floor below, taking the stairs to get his blood pumping a little. He felt like there was sludge in his veins from last night. However, he had barely opened the thick metal door to the staircase when echoing voices met his ears. He didn’t stay for long after, but the words they said were embedded into his consciousness.

“Fucking chaebols. Does Jeon really think that useless son of his will be able to handle the company?”

“I swear he’s gonna ruin it before he hits puberty.”

“Rich people are so fucking ignorant.”

“I bet he can’t even name one feature we’ve released.”

“I’m seriously thinking of quitting once he takes over. Better quit than lose my job when he makes Jaunty bankrupt, right?”

Jungkook clenched his jaw, his tongue poking into his cheek, as he briskly walked towards his office. Do it for the Lees in accounting? They could just go fuck themselves. He could feel the venom burn his chest as he sat in his chair, refusing their words to bore into his self esteem. He knew he was the best for the job, he knew he could do it. He would prove them wrong. Just imagining the look on their faces when he revealed a new game that would leave ChampCon in the dust had his skin on fire, sending his previous motivation into overdrive.

He didn’t know how long he sat in his chair, dissecting the numbers for his company from the past ten years, but by the time he had compared all the analytics between competitors in the market, the sun was already an afterthought in the starry sky and his notebook was overfilled with potential strategies. This was what Jungkook excelled at, figuring out how to gain market shares and cut the competition. And at the moment, his greatest competition was Saga Games, an indie company that only had one game, which was a blatant copy of ChampCon, only with quirkier, more artsy characters instead of his plain champions. The game, Reverie, had gone viral on social media, targeting a niche market of mostly female gamers sorely underrepresented in his own games.

Before he knew it, he was sending away his staff for the day, deciding to hole up in his office to watch videos of the gameplay, noting the differences between his game and theirs. It was odd how wholesome the community seemed to be, barely any swearing or spats even in the unmoderated chats. He hadn’t touched a video game in years, but for this he would consider going back.

Scrolling through hundreds of videos he only found half-assed play throughs, which was good to note the actual features of the game, but not for what he needed — a qualitative look at how people were feeling about Reverie. Glancing at the clock in the corner of his desk, he realized it was almost 11, but just as he was about to give up for the night, his eye caught a familiar face.

It was you. Dressed in a baggie black Supreme hoodie and flannel pajamas, you were sat on a sickeningly pink chair, embellished with faux fur, as you played the game, a set of deep red headphones over your ears. He blinked at the screen in disbelief. There was no way you were a streamer.

Jungkook had known you for over two years. You were in every single one of his classes, doing the same concentration of management strategy with your MBA as him, and you made it a point to rile him up in every single class. Be it using Jaunty Games as a case study for your presentations and looking at him every time you pointed out a flaw in the company, or gloating to him about your better grades. You were so childish that Jungkook couldn’t stand to be in the same room as you. You brought out his stupid, childish side too. His need to prove you wrong and to beat you often led to him arguing with you despite the way your classmates groaned and rolled their eyes.

He remembered when he first met you the summer before he started his degree. It was a balmy, sunny day — the kind that feels like humidity is hanging in the air making it thick and sticky. Although he hated the heat, some idiotic part of his brain thought that running in the humid air would probably add more resistance to his runs. It did not. As he was finishing his final lap around the university, sweating buckets, his t-shirt stuck to his back, he heard a loud bicycle bell, the shrill breaking through the pop music blasting through his earphones. However, the warning bell was for naught, because before he even looked up, he was barrelled over by you.

Luckily you had swerved your bicycle so it did not hit him, but in doing so you had somehow launched yourself on to him. He groaned as his butt met the sidewalk, arms automatically going around you to ensure you didn’t hurt yourself. Momentarily flustered by how attractive he found you, Jungkook was quick to recover, clearing his throat to ask you if you were okay.

You simply brushed off the dirt, and stood up with a grin. He blinked up at you, dazed by the sun shining behind you making you look almost ethereal. He grabbed your hand when you offered it, ready to waive your apologies away. For the first time in his life, Jungkook felt the need to make the first move - make any move really. He was ready to throw a cheesy line your way, ask you to treat him to a coffee to make up for your blunder.

However, much to his utter disappointment, you never apologized. In fact, you scolded him to watch where he was going, your bright smile never disappearing as you gave him a couple of finger guns before getting back on your bicycle and riding away. Jungkook just stood there, staring after you with a bruised shin and a bruised ego to match.

Perhaps that’s why Jungkook suddenly stopped scrolling when he saw you in the thumbnail, the same wide smile making his heart race for reasons unknown. He didn’t believe in lust, that was for the weak. He had learnt his lesson when Candy beat him up, but he couldn’t help clicking on the video, curious as to why the loud, argumentative woman in his lectures would be making videos playing games.

“And although the aesthetics do make this game very visually appealing, I think the gameplay is more advanced than others in the market. You see how there’s a lack of glitches even though there are a hundred thousand people online? That’s wild!” Your voice echoed through his empty office, as you continued to break down how the game was built and why it was garnering such a large audience, and Jungkook was hooked. He had never paid attention to what you said, usually waiting for you to make a point he could contest, never absorbing the actual content of your usual arguments together. Now that he was paying attention, he understood why you were competing for valedictorian with him. You were eloquent, knowledgeable, but unlike Jungkook, the way you spoke was almost charismatic, and before he knew it he had watched the entire forty minute video.

Your subscriber count was also no joke. If anything, you were a celebrity with over 30 million subscribers on Youtube, and many more on Instagram. He smiled at your username, callmetiger95, it seemed fitting for the fiery woman in his lectures, even though your online persona was more meek and sweet. He spent the night watching your videos, when an idea popped into his head.

He was going to partner with you to create a new game.

----------

You frowned as you looked at your laptop at the end of the lecture, your Youtube Partner page pulled up. Your last video seemed to have been doing worse than the one before, in fact it did it even worse than the one posted around the same time last year, even though you had double the subscribers now. The stats weren’t terrible, especially given the ad revenue from the video was enough to cover rent for the month, but you were irked. It was the first video you had made to branch out your brand, choosing to talk about your life and grad school, rather than playing the latest trending video game. Although you knew that most of your subscribers only wanted to see you play, disappointment still gnawed at your gut.

“Hey, Tiger,” a familiar voice called from behind you, causing your frown to deepen. Of course it was the school playboy, Jeon Jungkook. You rolled your eyes as you closed your laptop, before packing it away in your backpack.

“What do you want, Jeon?” you asked, turning around, watching him leaning against the chair next to you, dressed in a suit like the rest of the class, but looking far better than the rest of the guys. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he was a model.

“So how come you never told me you were this big shot gamer?” he asked with a smile, his hair falling into his eyes. You hadn’t seen him smile this genuinely at you before, and your eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Because I don’t like you,” you replied plainly, shrugging, and only slightly regretting the way his smile fell from his face.

“Oh… okay,” Jungkook said, a hand reaching to touch his ear that seemed to be a vivid shade of red. Jungkook didn’t know why he thought he could just pretend the two of you were more than classroom rivals and get away with it. He moved away a little to let you pass, gathering his nerves, before he spoke again. “I want to hire you.”

You blinked at him, frozen on the spot by the casual job offer. You had enough sense to notice how nervous Jungkook looked all of a sudden, visible beads of sweat forming on his hairline despite the air conditioning in the room being too high.

“Just because you found out I’m popular on Youtube, you want to hire me?” you asked incredulously.

“No,” Jungkook was quick to disagree, waving his hands in front of you, before deflating. “Yes… It’s just, I need your help,” he said, a lip between his teeth as he averted your gaze. Jungkook had no idea why his heart was beating so fast, but then again he had never been one to ask for help, especially from his widely attractive antagonizers.

“Is this some fuckboy move of yours? Offer me a job to get into my pants?” You raised an eyebrow and Jungkook couldn’t help the little giggle that escaped his lips at the absurdity of your words. Him? A fuckboy?

“I’m not a fuckboy, Y/N,” he said, nose upturned at the unfair label. He knew that everybody thought him as some player, but the truth was that it was just a widely inaccurate rumour his childhood friend Jimin had started during undergrad that seemed to have snowballed into his reputation. Nothing could be further from the truth.

“Whatever, Jeon. Answer’s still the same. I don’t need a job,” you replied coolly, turning and walking towards the door.

“Come on, please. I’ll do anything. I’ll give you however much you want!” Jungkook walked briskly to catch up easily to you. He didn’t know why he was being so insistent, especially since he was supposed to hate you after he had overheard you make some pretty terrible comments about him at a party once. All he knew was that you seemed to have insights that no one else had and he needed to learn them.

“Typical. Not everything can be bought, especially not me.” You rolled your eyes at him, opening the doors to the lecture theatre, but only wide enough for yourself, taking in a little too much joy in the way he struggled to get his stupidly broad frame through the small gap.

“That’s not what I meant. Come on, Y/N. At least hear me out,” he almost begged. It was widely out of character from the Jungkook you knew. Usually, he was all cold stares and dry remarks. The only time you had seen his expression change from serious or zoned out was when you ran into him at a trashy frat party, but you don’t like to think about that night.

“Nope,” you repeated, getting a little annoyed by his constant attempts.

“I’ll convince you,” he said as he finally stopped following you, jaw clenched in determination that only made you roll your eyes.

“Try your best, Jeon.” You waved at him with a laugh as you made your way to the library to work on your upcoming presentation.

And so he did.

Over the next two week, he tried everything in his power to convince you. At first, it was small. He would bring you a coffee to your lectures, black with one sugar, just the way you liked it and you were afraid to ask him how exactly he knew your order. Much to Jungkook’s chagrin, his daily coffees were rewarded with another rejection.

He decided to up his game. Knowing that your next project for Business Ethics required partners, he walked into your Assistant Professor’s office with five hundred thousand won in cash in an attempt to convince her to pair the two of you up. He did everything the movies showed him, placing the not very subtle wad of cash in his palm as he shook her hand while iterating how much he would appreciate it if he was partnered with you. He almost got suspended on the spot. Good thing he was top of his class in negotiations, otherwise the tabloids would have had a field day.

He sat next to you at every lecture, much to your annoyance. He bought you lunch everyday, ranging from pizza to sushi to even some homemade ramen that you were sure one of his home chefs had prepared. Much to your obstinate resolve, he was wearing you down. Day after day, you were growing increasingly endeared by how he would try to find a new way to convince you. Once he explained what he needed your help with, you were curious, not above admitting that brainstorming a new game with the future CEO of the world’s biggest gaming company sounded extremely fun.

Your resolve was finally broken when he took to social media, leaving comment after comment on your videos and photos. Usually you would never notice something like that, bombarded with thousands on the daily, but the man had the audacity to use his company account. Of course you would notice if Jaunty Games was suddenly commenting “Come on Tiger! Say yes!” on every video you had ever uploaded.

“Okay fine! I’ll do it, you absolute insane person!” you exclaimed when he once again started listing his pro-cons list before class.

“You will?” he asked, beaming widely, his nose scrunched, and you had to resist the urge to put on your sunglasses with how bright his smile was.

“On one condition,” you replied, just as the professor walked in and unceremoniously started the lecture, ignoring the way Jungkook silently clapped in glee. “You have to beat me in ChampCon.”

Jungkook’s face fell just in time for the smug smile to appear on yours.

----------

Walking into Jungkook’s apartment, you were taken aback by the almost humble abode. Of course, located in Hannam the Hill, you had expected it to be lavish, but other than the large size, the apartment was simple. Late afternoon light streamed in through the floor to ceiling windows that lined the west end of the apartment, bathing the living room in a glow that seemed to be absorbed by the all black furnishings.

It was an open concept, the narrow hallway from the front door leading into the living room that was flanked on one side by windows and the other by a kitchen island, and another hallway that you assumed led to the bedrooms. The walls were adorned by various grayscale photographs that you assumed were taken by some of the best in the world.

“So welcome,” he said enthusiastically, leading you to the plush leather couch in the centre of the room, his laptop already displaying the game, before heading to the kitchen and returning with a tray piled high with cookies and popcorn. “Are you ready for me to win?” he asked with a cocky smirk, even though he knew he stood absolutely no chance of winning.

“Why? Did you boot up some secret cheat codes?” you asked, taking your laptop out of your bag and setting it up on the mahogany coffee table, smirking at the way he scowled in response. It was almost adorable.

“I don’t need cheat codes to beat you.” He most definitely did, but Jungkook would never resort to cheap tricks to win. His pride would never let him.

“Sure, we’ll see about that,” you smirked, cracking your neck before starting a classic game, hiding the fact that you were already at the Master ranking.

Despite your earlier teasing, you found it surprising that Jungkook was actually terrible at ChampCon, often accidentally hitting his own team members and missing marks, in spite of having multiple expensive add-ons. How could someone whose father created the game be so utterly bad? It took barely fifteen minutes for the game to end, with Jungkook’s teammates spamming the chat with insults and him falling into the couch in defeat.

“Oh my god! How are you this bad?!” You laughed. You almost wished he had used some cheat code. It felt as if you were taking advantage of him.

“I don’t play, okay?” he huffed, looking away, and you had an urge to wrap him in your arms. That was new. Usually you just wanted to bully him more.

“Fine. I’ll help you with your project,” you said, not wanting to see him look so dejected any more. Your words worked wonders, though, because as soon as they left your mouth, Jungkook sat up in shock, doe-like eyes wide in surprise.

“You will?”

“Honestly, you’re so bad at this game, you need all the help you can get,” you joked, expecting him to throw an insult back at you, but all he did was smile softly, a little ‘thank you’ leaving his lips and making your heart oddly skip a beat.

Time passed by quickly after, the two of you spending a few hours talking about what he thought was wrong with his games and figuring out what the competition was doing better. Jungkook had already done a little too much research on the topic over the weeks he’d spent trying to convince you, but he pretended not to know much, opting to hear your explanations instead. He enjoyed the way you would go off on tangents about societal values and norms that influenced the market. It was interesting hearing about video games not just from their mechanics but from a more sociological view, interspersed by philosophical insights as you quoted Bauman and Malinowski with ease. He wondered why he had written you off based on an inebriated overheard conversation.

-------

Jungkook was nervous. What started as a way to finally get over Candy had manifested into a full blown crush. A crush that seemed to be requited? The moment you had run him over, he’d been intrigued. The confident, indifferent attitude you possessed had him hooked, and it only escalated when he discovered that you were in every single one of his classes.

He didn’t even want to come to this party - only deciding to leave his apartment after Seokjin had jokingly said he was too scared to go, and Jungkook wanted to prove him wrong. Donning his leather jacket and usually black jeans and shirt, he entered the overflowing house that stood a little ways from the university, a six pack in hand and nerves high. Although Jungkook’s training had made him exceptional at interpersonal relationships, he still found socializing daunting, especially without the comfort of his usual crew.

Taking a deep breath, he made his way to the kitchen, leaning against the counter as he sipped his beer, hoping someone would start a conversation so he could feel less awkward. Perhaps someone would ask him to share one of the beers he had brought. Perhaps someone from class would be there. Perhaps you would come up to him.

“Hi, you’re Jungkook right?” A sugary voice broke him out of his thoughts as he looked at the woman in front of him. Dressed in a lace bodysuit that emphasized her curves and jeans that made Jungkook gulp, the stranger gave him a wide smile, her teeth blinding.

Jungkook hummed in response, finding it hard to speak, feeling so out of his element that his grasp on his native language disappeared. She didn’t seem too put off by his sudden muteness, instead closing the gap between them, her finger slowly trailing from his collar to his torso.

“Let’s skip the pleasantries, okay?” she whispered leaning into him, her breath ghosting his ear and making his skin erupt in goosebumps. “I want you to take me upstairs and fuck my brains out.”

He couldn’t help but recoil in response. Ever since Jimin had started the rumour that he was some deity in bed in undergrad, Jungkook was used to offers like this, but usually they weren’t so… forward. He wasn’t a complete prude, of course, but the thought of having sex with a stranger whose name he didn’t even know made him extremely uncomfortable, and the way she was touching him suddenly made his skin crawl.

“No, thanks,” he said, stepping away from her, feeling a little guilty as her confidence crumbled in front of him. “I’m sorry, I just don’t do that,” he clarified, only for her to snort, rolling her eyes.

“You don’t have to lie, you can just say you don’t want to,” she sneered before walking away, leaving Jungkook confused, trying to figure out how to explain that he didn’t mean to be condescending. Before he could decide whether going after her was a good idea, your voice interrupted his inner monologue.

“Wow, already breaking hearts. It’s barely midnight,” you quipped, sipping on something out of a disposable cup, and all of Jungkook’s worries disappeared, his heart skipping a beat. Before he could defend himself, you started giggling at what he assumed was his shell shocked expression. “Oh, is that Lowenbrau?” you asked, picking a bottle from next to him and examining the label.

“Yeah… you want some?” Jungkook asked and was greeted by a grin from you as you helped yourself to a bottle, uncapping it by hooking the cap on the counter and hitting the top in a way that was far too attractive for Jungkook to fathom.

The conversation after that flowed seamlessly, the two of you enjoying beers and then some tequila that was left abandoned by someone. You talked about your classes, making fun of your Ethics professor who suspiciously enough defended dictators a little too much. It had at least been an hour and Jungkook was ecstatic he had been goaded into attending this party. He enjoyed the way your eyes sparkled with mirth when you leaned in and mimicked the fighting couple at the door, making fake dialogue to make him laugh. He liked that you seemed so at ease; it made him comfortable, his usual tongue-tied self around you disappearing in the alcohol bubbling in his veins. That is until, after a joke, you leaned into him giggling, your hand covering your mouth and he was mesmerized by the little laugh.

You paused then, your eyes looking into his, and his heart stopped. This was the moment. The moment where he should lean over and kiss you, but he had never felt more scared, his hand in a fist as he tried to control the way it was trembling. He felt so out of his depth, like a scared little kid. He had kissed others before, but he knew what was expected. He was expected to sweep you off your feet, kiss you and then ravish you - and suddenly he felt like he was going to throw up. He was still in love with Candy, he realized, ignoring the way his heart sank at the thought, despite it sprinting in his chest.

“Sorry. I don’t want this,” he said abruptly, pushing you away, not missing the way you scowled at him, obviously offended. He moved quickly, making his way to the thankfully unoccupied bathroom and emptying his stomach’s contents in the toilet. After a few long minutes of catching his breath, and using the mouthwash he found under the sink to rinse his mouth, Jungkook looked at himself in the mirror. He needed to get over Candy. Candy was not his soulmate, he reminded himself. His soulmate would only look at him, not be drowning in men in a foreign country trying to distract herself from the fact that she was still in love with his hyung years after he left her. With his rationality returning, he remembered the way you made him feel - safe, even when you made his heart flutter, and it made his decision for him. He was going to apologize to you, and he was going to stop comparing every single woman he met to his childhood crush.

With determined steps he walked back into the party, his eyes scanning the room for you, and his face lighting up when he finally saw you talking to a group of your friends, laughing and drunkenly gesturing with your hands. He smiled softly, making his way towards you, hoping you would give him another chance. However, as soon as he heard what you were laughing about, his face fell, his chest heaving in a way that felt like he had just been stabbed.

“Jungkook? Fuck that entitled himbo. I could never like him,” you giggled in that pretty way that always had Jungkook weak, except this time it made venom rise within him. “You think I’m gonna fall in love with a chaebol? All those guys are spoiled fuckboys. No, thank you!”

----------

It was almost midnight by the time the two of you decided to break for dinner with a game of Mario Kart. You screamed joyously as your Princess Peach overtook Jungkook’s Bowser once again, feeling extra evil and deciding to leave a banana peel in your wake that he once again missed dodging. You were laughing, and couldn’t remember the last time you’d had this much fun. You hadn’t spent time with him since the party that soured your interactions two years ago and you regretted writing him off.

“Another?” he asked gleefully as the screen showed him in third and you at first, wanting to beat you at least once. With years spent studying games, he had almost forgotten how fun it could be to actually play them with someone. Sure, he occasionally convinced Seokjin and Taehyung to play with him but they never wanted to play something other than ChampCon and that had dampened his enthusiasm.

“You’re on,” you replied with a grin, forgetting about times when just his presence had made you annoyed. However, before the two of you could have another race on rainbow road, his phone rang. He apologized as he picked it up.

“Hello?” Jungkook answered cheerfully, only for his smile to fall as the person on the line continued. You couldn’t help but mirror his frown as he ran his hand through his hair, his lips pressed together. “Are you sure?” he asked before getting on his feet, looking around the room, the phone still glued to his ear, listening intently as he bit his lip.

When he hung up, he started running around his apartment, ignoring the way you called out his name. Jungkook’s heart felt like it was in his stomach as a sweat started appearing on his hairline, his breaths getting shallower. He couldn’t find his car keys. Where the fuck were his car keys?

He was panicking, he knew it was obvious, and he startled when he felt your fingers around his bicep. “Jungkook, what’s wrong?” you asked carefully, your face screwed in concern. It took him a minute to calm down, to force his breath to return to normal. He should stop looking for his keys and call a cab. He was being a bad host, he should probably tell you why he had to leave but his throat felt like it was closing up, and it was taking all his brain power to not break down in front of you.

“Where do you need to go?” you asked, apparently much more astute than he ever gave you credit for. You grabbed both his shoulders to make him look at you, and he felt a little calmer with your touch, finally speaking one word.

“Hospital,” he said hoarsely and that’s all it took for you to grab your purse from the coffee table and his hand, moving the two of you outside his apartment, leaving behind all your other stuff in a rush to help Jungkook reach his destination.

----------

“Where is she?” Jungkook yelled, his voice echoing around the quiet lobby as he ran towards Jimin, his friend looking stoned faced. His breathing had calmed down, but he was still worried. He had spent the entire car ride biting the inside of his cheek, trying to keep a cool facade in front of you, but he just needed to see her to make everything better. As soon as he could see her, he’d be okay.

Jimin led the two of you to the private wing of the hospital, the elevator ride a little too long for Jungkook’s liking. As soon as he arrived at the door, he pulled it open, ignoring Seokjin and Seungwon who sat on the couch, his eyes lasering in on the body lying in bed. Her eyes were shut, her head heavily bandaged with a tube attached to her nose to support her breathing. He could hear the heartbeat from the monitor as it rang eerily through the room.

You felt out of place, watching Jungkook standing motionlessly next to the woman attached to wires. You wanted to reach out to him, an urge to comfort him running through you. You had barely taken half a step in his direction, when a tall, wide shouldered man stopped you.

“Thank you for bringing him here,” he said politely, his hand raised in front of him. “But I think it’s best if you leave.” Although his tone was not cold, you felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on you. Of course you should leave. You and Jungkook were barely amicable, it seemed awfully presumptuous to think that he would need you to comfort him when he had his friends around him.

“Mom?” Jungkook spoke for the first time, his voice broken, and with a heavy heart you left, not wanting to see him so vulnerable without his explicit consent.

Jungkook could feel his eyes prickling as he held his mother’s hand. She seemed so fragile, her face bruised from the accident. Jimin had informed him that she had been in a car crash over the phone, but he had hoped that she was okay — that she got a few scratches — but the way her skin paled under the fluorescent lights and her shallow breaths puffed through, she looked on the edge of life.

When Seokjin put his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder he couldn’t help himself, turning around to embrace his friend, uncaring how his tears stained his shirt as he sobbed into his shoulder. He felt scared, guilty that the last time he met his mother he had left without saying goodbye.

“Hyung, what if… she dies?” Jungkook spoke his fears out loud, his voice muffled as Seokjin shushed him, hugging him tight. Seokjin was always the person Jungkook pestered, often annoying him and stealing free meals from him, but he was also his closest friend, one that he could always rely on.

“Jungkook, she’s going to be okay. Jimin has his best doctors on it, don’t you, Jimin?” Seokjin said gently, looking over to the blonde in the corner who seemed to be deep in thought. Jimin looked up at the call of his name, making his way over, patting Jungkook’s shoulder softly.

“She’s going to be okay. They put her in an induced coma, she’s just sleeping. She hit her head, but she’s okay,” Jimin reassured, and Jungkook heaved in relief. His mother was ill, but she was going to be okay. He repeated the phrase in his head as Seokjin guided him to the couch, his arms still around him as Jungkook gathered his thoughts, silently crying with his head on the elder’s chest.

He was sipping the water Seungwon got him as his father arrived, his state similar to Jungkook’s ten minutes ago. However, unlike Jungkook, his father didn’t go straight to his wife, making his way to Seungwon who sat next to Jungkook.

“You son of a bitch!” he yelled, grabbing the taller man from his collar and forcing him to his feet. “How fucking dare you?”

Jungkook had never seen his father so uncomposed and as he saw him lift a fist into the air to take an aim at his employee, he sprung into action, holding him back with Seokjin’s help. He knew Seungwon had been driving before the accident, but he didn’t understand why his father was so angry at him just doing his job. It’s not like Seungwon could foresee a drunk driver losing control of their car. However, his father’s next words made everything crystal clear.

“Just because I let you date her doesn’t mean you can kill her, you fucking scum!” he seethed, and Jungkook had never heard such malice before, his eyes widening in shock as he looked at Seungwon, who seemed to take the insults in stride, his face neutral.

“Jaehwa, please calm down,” he pleaded to his friend.

“Calm down? Fuck you,” Jaehwa responded, despite his breathing now significantly more relaxed.

“I’m sorry,” Seungwon responded, his face finally cracking as tears manifested in his eyes. Before Jungkook could realize what was happening, his father wiggled out of his grip and hugged his friend. Seokjin looked at Jungkook confused, but he was equally perplexed at the sudden turn of events.

----------

Seokjin had driven Jungkook home that night, but he couldn’t fall asleep, opting to sit in his kitchen with a drink, staring at the wall, trying to make sense of his parent’s relationship. He knew it wasn’t the best. He had been witness to countless fights over the years, but he was convinced that they were in love. He couldn’t wrap his around the fact his mother was cheating on his father, and that he knew.

He was startled to hear a knock at the door.

“Jungkook, can I come in?” his father asked, as soon as he opened the door. Grabbing another scotch for him, Jungkook made his way to the living room where Jaehwa sat. The two drank in silence for a while, till one glass turned into two which turned into the bottle being brought to the table. His father was the first one to speak.

“I’m sorry you had to find out about it this way,” he said, his voice a little hoarse from not being used in a while. Finally, Jungkook turned his head towards him and noticed the frown on his face, an older rendition of the one on his own face, and though usually he would feel empathetic, pity for the man who raised him, but the defeated expression only made a rage boil inside him. How could he let that happen to him? Let her get away with this? Hug the man who stole her?

“Why are you still with her? She cheated on you, dad!” he exclaimed, not having the foresight to control his volume as Jaehwa winced.

“We separated a long time ago, son,” he admitted quietly, and Jungkook felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. He should’ve noticed if his parents were separated, right? Perhaps he was a bad son for never noticing, and the thought made his anger shift from his father towards himself.

“When?”

“As soon as you moved out…”

“Six years ago?” he questioned in disbelief, his mouth hanging open as he stood up, not knowing how to expend the sudden rush of energy in his body other than to start pacing.

“We didn’t want to burden you with it until we had to,” Jaehwa said, a hand reaching out towards his son, but Jungkook just glared in return, not stopping his movements as he strode up and down the room.

“How could you not tell me?” he yelled, “All this time? And she’s with uncle Seungwon?” He was irritated. It felt as if he had walked into some twisted television drama made as fodder for lonely housewives. How could a secret this big be hidden for this long?

“Jungkook… son… she’s happy,” Jaehwa answered with a sad smile, his eyes on how his fingers touched the rim of his glass, swirling a drop of whiskey that stuck to it. He had never seen his father like this: he looked sad, defeated, resigned.

“What happened?” Jungkook asked, the fight in his system giving way to a mourning for the only long term relationship he had known in his life. He sat next to his father, staring intently as he nodded, his lips in a thin line.

“We still love each other, but somewhere along the way, we just couldn’t be together.”

“That doesn’t make sense. If you love someone you fight for them! You don’t give up, dad.” Jungkook was getting frustrated now, his emotions a flurry as he tried to make sense of the bombshell his father had just dropped on him.

“You’re still young, son,” his father chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. “Sometimes love’s not enough.”

“That’s not true. You both gave up,” Jungkook retorted stubbornly as his father smiled at his naivety.

“And sometimes that’s for the best,” Jaehwa responded, patting his son on his thigh.

The two talked for an hour after, his father explaining that to him, love meant letting each other be happy, even if it means it’s with someone else. Jungkook accepted the end of his parents’ marriage but even after his father tried to explain his view on love, he could not understand him. Love was for forever. It wasn’t a burning of emotions, he knew that. That was lust. Love was a choice. To Jungkook, love was choosing the person you loved every time, even when it was hard. If someone didn’t love you a hundred percent, then they didn’t love you.

He was hurt, confused, and frustrated at the choices his parents made — choices that he was convinced were wrong. But most of all he was angry. Angry at his parents and furious at Cha Seungwon who paraded around him as a second father, giving him advice and listening to his problems for years while conspiring to ruin his parents’ relationship.

----------

Jungkook: Thank you for driving me yesterday. I appreciate it. I have packed up your stuff. I can drop it off if you’d like. Y/N: Don’t worry about it. I can pick it up. Y/N: I know it’s not my place, but is your mom feeling better? Jungkook: She’s doing well. Thank you. Y/N: I’m glad. What time do you want me to come by? Jungkook: 10pm. I’m sorry if that’s too late. I can drop it off. Y/N: It’s fine. I’ll see you at 10. Jungkook: Thank you.

----------

You stood outside Jungkook’s door, feeling extremely awkward. You knew you had no reason to feel that way, but you wanted to comfort him for some reason. You felt a pull towards him, a need to make him smile. That was probably the reason why you decided to spend three hours today trying to bake him cookies. Your mom always baked you cookies whenever you were upset, and so you decided to do the same for Jungkook. You didn’t even know if he ate gluten, or sugar for that matter, but here you were, standing in front of his door with a plastic container almost overflowing with chocolate chip cookies.

You knew he would be wondering why it was taking you so long to come up despite having been let in by the concierge, so you shook your head to dismiss the weirdness of you trying to start some sort of friendship, and knocked.

Jungkook greeted you with a stoic expression, and you didn’t miss the dark circles under his eyes. It had been two days since you’d rushed him to the hospital. Sure, living without your laptop for that long was a nightmare, but you were too busy worrying about this stranger. He had told you his mother was doing well, but you still feared he had lied. Looking at him now, you were starting to be convinced you were correct.

Dressed in baggy sweat pants and an equally baggy black t-shirt, his hair was dishevelled as he invited you in. The living room itself was a stark opposite of what it had been a few days ago. There were half-eaten take-out containers on the table, empty bottles of beer surrounding the couch, which held a blanket and a pillow as if he had been sleeping on it. However, what really caught your eye was the large whiteboard in the middle of the room, decorated in printouts of various games and barely legible notes on said games.

“Jeon, you okay?” you asked apprehensively as Jungkook moved a giant binder that was placed above your backpack. Before he reached for your bag, he snapped his fingers, walking over to the board and scribbling another note on it. You repeated your question and he looked up at you, as if just registering that you were here.

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you,” he said cordially, and you felt cold. The two of you had never been friends, but you had never been polite either. You had only two moods: passive aggressively egging each other on, or enjoying conversations about games. Sure the latter that had happened only once, but was it weird if you missed that?

this?

You bit your lip, wondering if you should push further, worried about his well being.You ultimately decided against it, opting to join him at the board instead. “You worked on it without me?” you asked.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t think you’d want to do it anymore,” he answered, clearly taken aback by your inquiry.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“My hours are crazy right now, so I just assumed.” He trailed off, but he couldn’t help the relief he felt at you wanting to help. He had spent yesterday and today staying with his mother for as long as the hospital allowed, working on his assignments and then spending the whole night working on coming up with a new game.

“Hey, if I get to beat your ass in Mario Kart everyday, I’m completely happy with working at odd hours,” you joked, nudging him, your heart warming at his first uninhibited smile of the night. Taking that as your cue, you settled on the couch, looking over the binder, your eyes widening at the exhaustive research he had done.

He answered your questions and explained as the two of you dove in to discuss the gaming industry as a whole, absorbed in the certain uptick of mobile gamers that seemed to be a lucrative market to catch. It was in the middle of one of his rants on how people never appreciated the work that went into the viral games, that you remembered the cookies you had been fretting over not even fifteen minutes ago.

Reaching over, you picked the container from where you had previously abandoned it, opening the lid to present a cookie to Jungkook, who in turn simply seemed confused.

“Where did you get those?” he questioned, grabbing a cookie and sniffing it as you rolled your eyes.

“I made them. My mom used to bake cookies to cheer me up and so...” you shrugged in explanation. You weren’t sure why you even told him that. Perhaps you didn’t want him to think that you randomly made cookies and carried them everywhere. You watched in anticipation as he lifted it to his mouth, taking a massive bite before his face screwed up in disgust.

“Ew. Did you want to cheer me up or poison me?” he asked, rubbing his tongue on the back of his hand to get rid of the taste.

“What do you mean? These cookies are delicious!” you argued, only just remembering the little detail of never having tasted them in your rush to make them. Taking a cookie you tasted, only to realize that they were salty. Did you mention this was your first time baking? You probably should’ve bought them instead.

Looking at your expression, Jungkook broke out into a laugh, his cackles filling the room and making you pout at him. You truly wanted to do something nice for him, and although your plan had failed, your intention had succeeded as he looked genuinely amused.

In his laughter, Jungkook forgot that the cookie was horrendous, subconsciously taking another bite, before spitting it out. The atmosphere after was light, and by the time you left, Jungkook felt lighter, his mind a little clearer. For the first time in weeks, his to-do list was empty as he fell asleep at a semi decent hour.

The next day, you decided to meet Jungkook at the hospital, taking flowers for his mother, and store-bought cookies for Jungkook. The two of you worked quietly with occasional whispered arguments over what made a game good. It felt natural to be working with him closely, his mind surprising you on more than one occasion. Previously you had assumed that Jungkook wasn’t very smart. Sure, he achieved great grades, but you had assumed it was mostly a result of memorization rather than actual understanding of the material. However, Jungkook was extremely sharp, spouting trends and the psychology of getting someone into a habit of gaming, as if it was general knowledge.

That did not mean he was great all around though.

“I don’t understand what’s wrong,” he said, frowning at the vending machine as he swiped his card once again, only to get rejected once more. “How are you rejecting this, you stupid machine? I’m sure I have money on this,” he whined, kicking the machine.

You tried not to laugh at his antics, knowing full well that a hospital was not going to accept a black card. Did he really think that a lowly machine ever got someone of his caliber using their no-limit, 100 million won minimum monthly spendings card? You let him try a few more times before pulling out your own Visa card and swiping it, the iced coffee tumbling through the machine easily.

“Wait, why did yours work?” he asked, brows furrowed as he stared at the drink in disbelief.

“Jeon, how rich are you?” you asked bemused, enjoying the flush that creeped up his ears at your question.

“I’m not that rich. I mean I’m sure this card should’ve worked.”

“Your card’s too rare for this machine,” you explained, shaking your head in mirth as you paid for your own coffee.

“Oh,” he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “Okay, let me pay you back. Dinner?”

It became routine after that for you to meet him at the hospital to get some work done before grabbing dinner and going back to his place to work some more. In just a week the two of you had planned a whole mobile game, a toned down version of ChampCon, that would have shorter games for beginners and better graphics. Jungkook wanted to make ChampCon more accessible and a mobile version seemed to make a lot of sense.

Along with coming up with what the two of you thought was a brilliant idea, you’d also found an odd comfort with each other in a very short time. Spending every day with each other, you started noticing little habits about Jungkook: the way he would scrunch his nose when he was excited, or poke his tongue inside his cheek when bored or concentrating, or how he had three laughs, a fake one that used whenever you annoyed him but he was too polite to call you out on it, a joyous cackle whenever he figured out a problem after a long time, and a slimy snicker whenever he was trying to get on your nerves.

Jungkook had forgotten completely about writing you off. Whenever you walked into the room, he felt his heart warm. The past week had been one of the toughest of his life. The constant stress of his final few months of school paired with the pressure of the company and his mother still lying unconscious in the hospital bed, it felt as if he was constantly on an adrenaline high. He couldn’t sleep, he barely ate, but with you around for a few hours he was able to block that out. He was unsure why he felt that way, but being in your presence somehow made him able to concentrate on the task at hand.

Most days.

Today, sitting next to you on his couch, he was distracted. Perhaps it was creepy of him to remember the exact outfit you wore when you divulged to your friends you would never date him, but seeing you in that white silk camisole set him back into that moment. Usually the memory would make him angry, but this time it made him melancholic, like colours had dulled, awashed in sepia.

“You okay, Jeon?” Your voice brought him back to the present, and he hummed distractedly.

“Hmm? Yes. Sorry.”

“Come on. What’s on your mind?” you asked, moving from where you were on the floor to the couch next to him, patting his knee. “I’m a good listener,” you chimed.

Jungkook was quiet for a little while, wondering if he should be honest. Looking at your earnest smile made his mind up for him. “Just thinking about that party where we first talked.”

“You mean the one where you rejected me like I was stinky tofu?” You snorted, despite the way the memory made you cringe.

“S-stinky tofu?” Jungkook cackled, his hair falling into his eyes as he sputtered. “I didn’t reject you! You said I was an ‘entitled himbo’ and that you would never date me!” he retorted.

“Well that’s because I wanted to kiss you and you literally ran away,” you said, feeling a little guilty. You pouted, heat rising up your cheeks in embarrassment as you looked away. You hadn't thought Jungkook had heard your drunken little rant, but were you really meant to admit to your new friends that the guy you had a crush on since the first time you saw him in your Contracts class recoiled in disgust at the prospect of kissing you?

Jungkook expected you to come up with an excuse for your mean comments; he wanted to confront you, but he softened as soon as he heard your words, his heart dancing in his chest. He knew you wanted to kiss him, but hearing you admit it made him a little brave. Turning towards you, he brought a hand to your knee, gently calling your name.

When you turned towards him, eyes looking into his, he took a deep breath. Leaning in slowly, he brought his lips to yours, and immediately felt as if he was floating. Your lips were plush, the softest he had ever felt, and it made his cheeks burn. He moved away soon after not deepening the kiss, wanting to treasure the little moment, but you were addicted.

Jungkook had barely moved an inch away when your hand reached his neck, pulling him back in. His eyes widened in shock, but he soon lost himself in you, hands cupping your face as you leaned slightly to the side, your tongue too eager to meet his as he opened his lips. He tasted like the peach jellies the two of you had been sharing earlier, a saccharine warmth that had you running your hands through his hair and bringing your leg over his lap to straddle him.

He pulled you closer, a hand travelling to your lower back and the other resting against your neck where he could feel how your pulse mimicked his. He felt as if he was in a trance, all thoughts tumbling out of his brain to the rhythm of your lips. He whimpered when you pulled his hair, and usually he would overthink it until it became an insecurity but all he could think about was your taste, the sweet cherry of your lip tint searing itself in his mind.

However, when you moved your hips he realized how turned on he was, a garbled moan escaping his lips into your mouth as he broke out from under your spell, his brain overloading with his usual self-conscious diatribe. Panting under you as you suckled on the skin of his neck in a way that made him whine, his mind played every way you would reject him when he told you the truth. He wasn’t embarrassed about it, but he knew how people worked. You expected the Jungkook that people knew, a heartbreaker, a sex god. How could he expect for you to stay for the bumbling virgin?

He felt his confidence plummet. According to his friends, porn, and every song and rom com ever he was supposed to take charge. Fuck you in a way that would blow your mind. He was the man, it was his job. He was meant to throw you down to the couch and make you cum, but the closest he had ever gotten to a woman was feeling some tits in second year of undergrad on a dare.

Suddenly Jungkook felt small, and you noticed the way he tensed under you. Lifting your face from his neck, you tried to catch your breath as you asked him, “What’s wrong?”

“I h-h-have to t-tell you s-s-something,” he whispered, his skin feeling as if it wanted to flee his body. He couldn’t believe his eighth grade stutter was back. He felt anxious, his heart pounded but when you looked at him in concern, your thumbs slowly tracing his cheekbones as you cupped his face, he felt safe. His mind was at odds. At one hand, he trusted you and felt comfortable around you, but on the other, he didn’t know if he could handle getting rejected while you sat on his extremely hard dick. It also didn’t help that his crush from 2 years ago had resurfaced in full force, playing a montage of every moment he had laid his eyes on you in supercut.

“Virgin,” he blurted, the chorus in his head spilling onto his tongue, his tone making the word sound more like a question than a statement. As soon as he said it, his face turned bright red. He was sure it could be seen from space the way it was glowing. He expected you to recoil in disgust or even pity him, but instead you giggled, one of your hands moving away from his face to cover yours.

He didn’t think about you laughing at him, but it definitely hurt more than the scenarios he had made up. He wanted to push you away, stand up and lock himself in his bedroom till you found enough sense to leave his apartment, but he was frozen.

When you composed yourself, you kissed his cheek, smiling at how warm it was under your lips. You couldn’t believe how ridiculous it was that Seoul’s reputed casanova was a virgin. If someone told you Jungkook was a virgin, you would have never believed them, but looking at the stuttering, flustered man below you, it endeared you. It made you want to protect him.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, hugging him reassuringly, and Jungkook felt like he was going to cry. He was sure it was because of lack of sleep and in no way because of how warm he felt at your words, the hurt quickly melting away. Quietly, he hugged you back, holding you tightly and nuzzling into you, as if on instinct. You let him, slowly stroking his hair, combing the soft strands as you felt your blood fizzing. You kissed him gently on the cheek again, melting at the way he scrunched his nose at that.

Jungkook felt fuzzy under your affections, opening up to you about wanting to save himself for true love, someone who he was fated to be with. Your cynical mind wouldn’t let you believe the same, but his sincerity made you optimistic. When he told you that maybe he was stupid for waiting, you squeezed his hand in yours, moving to sit next to him. You curled your arms around him, resting your head on his chest, feeling oddly calm despite your heated makeout session earlier.

He hugged you back, feeling the sugar high. He had barely gotten used to your arms around him when you were pulling away, but before he could mourn the loss of your warmth, you were smiling at him, your words making him grin coyly.

“Wanna go on a date tomorrow?”

----------

Y/N: I cannot believe you’re a belieber!! Jungkook: his songs are romantic! Y/N: I’m really reconsidering going on a second date with you Jungkook: come on! give him a chance!!! Jungkook sent a video Y/N: You sing??? Jungkook: i know i’m perfect don’t fall in love 😏 Y/N: Too late. Jungkook: you kiss a girl two times and she gets clingy istg Y/N: I wasn’t the one whimpering when we kissed Jungkook: yes you were Y/N: Sure 🙄 Jungkook: we’ll see in two hours tiger 😴

----------

Y/N: What did you get for 28? Jungkook: c Y/N: I’m pretty sure that’s wrong Jungkook: come over and show me what’s right Y/N: That’s the worst pick up line you’ve used yet Jungkook: and you’re still coming over Y/N: Don’t test me Jeon Jungkook: please 🥺 Y/N: Fuck you Jungkook: all in due time, beautiful 😏 Y/N: OMG. I’m coming over only to beat your ass Jungkook: worth it 😍

----------

Jungkook: thanks for helping me out again Y/N: Stop thanking me Jungkook: just feel like im taking up all your free time and im sorry if you feel pressured to help me Y/N: Jungkook I want to help you. I’m having fun! Jungkook: just thank you Y/N: STOP 😭 Jungkook: ok sorry sorry Y/N: And stop apologizing too Jungkook: im happy we met Y/N: me too

----------

It took a week and a half for the doctors to wake Jungkook’s mother back up, her traumatic brain injury taking longer than usual to heal. The doctors all told him and his father that she may not remember certain events, and might even have some mental delays. The night before she woke up, you visited Jungkook as usual and kissed him to distract him.

When he fell asleep mid rant about how excited he was to beat Saga Games with your new project, you chuckled. Worried for his back, you woke him to move him to his bed, where he held your hand and asked you to stay. Although you were usually guarded, not wanting to get involved with someone too quickly, you were climbing in next to him in a heartbeat, relishing the way his arms wrapped around you as he buried his face in your neck, dozing off quickly.

Jungkook’s mother didn't wake up when the doctors said she would, so he waited with his father and Seungwon in the room, while you held his hand. It helped calm Jungkook down every time he wanted to lash out at Seungwon for holding his mother’s hand, crocodile tears in his eyes.

The four of you stayed in the room, Seungwon on a chair next to Kyungsoo, while Jaehwa worked on his laptop on the couch, next to Jungkook and you, the former staring into space blankly, while occasionally squeezing your hand that was sweating in his. He watched the window, counting the leaves on the tree branch that blocked the view of the parking lot, forcing his mind to stop racing with worst case scenarios. By the time the sky faded from blue to pink to an inky black, he knew there were one hundred and twenty seven little leaves, because he had counted them at least eight times.

“Dear?” his mother croaked, her hand squeezing Seungwon’s and it was like the quiet of the room had suddenly exploded, the men rushing to check on the patient. Before Jungkook or his father could reach Kyungsoo, she was pulling Seungwon to her, kissing him gently as he sobbed.

Jungkook’s steps faltered at the display, and he felt an odd jealousy that the first person she saw was his secretary. He knew he was her boyfriend but the bitterness was hard to swallow. He called out to her gently, her eyes landing on him, and Jungkook couldn’t control tearing up at how fragile his mother looked.

He hesitated a little when she opened her arms for a hug, afraid that he would crush her, but the moment he was in her embrace he couldn’t help holding onto her tightly, relief flooding through his body. He held on till Kyungsoo chuckled, patting her son on the head affectionately.

You felt odd being in the middle of the family affair, his father soon joining the embrace. You wanted to leave, feeling out of place, but when Jungkook sat by his mother’s side, he brought a chair next to him for you, holding your hand as he talked to her. Your heart warmed whenever he squeezed your hand, reminding you that he wanted you there. Was this too fast for the three official dates you had gone on? Probably, but it felt right.

Despite your mind reminding you that you were imposing on a private matter, your heart won. Over the past few weeks, your crush on Jungkook had not only reignited, but the embers had turned into a forest fire. It felt strange not seeing him everyday, your text threads never ending. Although the two of you still bickered, it was now laced with an underlying tension, that most time resulted in you shutting each other up with kisses.

Kissing Jungkook felt natural. What started as a heated makeout had turned into celebratory kisses after solving a problem you were stuck on, turned into pecks when saying hello, and yearnful groping when saying goodbye. It had barely been a fortnight, yet you felt as if you could kiss him forever.

With his mind sated about his mother’s wellbeing, Jungkook felt a little more himself, less tumultuous, which gave him plenty of time to overthink about the fact that he had barely been dating you for two weeks and he had somehow dragged you to something much more daunting than meeting the parents. When the realization hit, all Jungkook could do was subtly escape, taking you with him to the hallway, his heart on his sleeve.

“I’m so sorry,” he rushed out as soon as the door was closed, his eyes panicked as they looked at your alarmed face. “I’m sorry I dragged you here. It was so stupid, you must think i’m so clingy and weird and — oh my god, I’m such a loser!”

“Jungkook, hey. Don’t be sorry,” you said, grabbing his wrist to pull it away from where he kept running it through his hair. His shoulders sagged at your words as he let out a breath he seemed to be holding. Moving closer, you wrapped your arms around him, and he immediately returned your embrace. “I’m glad you trust me enough to bring me here,” you whispered, his grip tightening around you in response.

“Thank you,” he replied, inhaling your scent, and feeling at ease. It felt as if everything in his life was falling in place, that for the first time in his existence he could rest. He didn’t feel anxious about taking over the company, he didn’t feel insecure about being written off, he just felt at peace. Could he really live in the moment now? Was that something he could give himself now?

“Hey kid, you’re gonna stand here or gonna tell your mom her favourite son is here?” Yoongi grumbled playfully, and when Jungkook looked up he saw his friends there, holding flowers, candy, and fruit. He was surprised the hospital had let them through. But then again, heading the group was Jimin, arms full of a teddy bear that was probably as tall as him. Even Namjoon had showed up, looking a little worse for wear, dark circles under his hollow eyes, but smiling nevertheless.

Jungkook’s mom beamed when the group of ten entered in a flurry of celebration. Jimin, being the loudest as usual, ran up to her screaming “Eomma!”, followed by Taehyung, both of them hugging her. The older ones, Yoongi and his wife, and Seokjin were more composed, handing her the flowers, Seokjin making the cheesy joke about her being Jungkook’s sister - a joke he’d made since the day he first met her. Candy immediately scoffed at them, moving the flowers away to hug her tight, having seen her the first time since her time abroad. Namjoon was more reserved but his well wishes still touched her heart.

It felt like a reunion of sorts, and despite Hoseok still being in the States, Seokjin had him on Facetime, in all his sleepy glory. Their group hadn’t all been together for so long, that Jungkook felt a little misty eyed. Despite everyone being in such different places in their lives, and despite the circumstances, it felt right that everyone was here at this moment. He reached for your hand, squeezing your fingers when he introduced you to his childhood friends, not missing the way Candy finally broke out of the stupor she had been in since Hoseok’s call, and raised an eyebrow in amusement.

Jungkook was finally at ease.

----------

The door bell was loud and obnoxious, startling Jungkook awake. He groaned, rolling out of bed at the insistent noise, eyes barely opened and padded towards the front door. All sleep disappeared when he saw you standing in the hallway, a colourful paper hat on your head, and a coffee and cupcake in your hands, a sparkler glittering on the tiny cake.

“Happy birthday, Jeon,” you smiled at him, a brilliant grin that always made his heart skip. His nose scrunched in response as he returned your smile, grabbing the coffee and replacing it with his hand. He dragged you to the kitchen, impatiently excited, giggling like a kid, and you couldn’t help but coo at his actions as he quickly took the cupcake from you, placing it on the counter.

Before you could say anything, he was kissing you, hands cupping your face gently as he continuously pecked your lips. If someone had told him last year that on his next birthday he would be kissing the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, he would’ve laughed in their faces, but with your lips on his, he couldn’t think of anything that seemed more fated.

His hands travelled down your sides, and when they reached your butt, he picked you up, placing you on the counter gently before looping his arms around your waist and pulling you to his chest. His eyes were shining when you separated, a toothy grin on his face that made him oddly look like a little rabbit. Grabbing the cupcake, you brought it between the two of you, picking out the now dead sparkler and replacing it with a candle from your hoodie pocket, lighting it quickly.

“Make a wish,” you said, expecting Jungkook to close his eyes and do so. Instead he looked straight at you, blowing out the candle before plucking it out, messily taking a big bite of the chocolate cupcake with frosting adorning his lips.

“I already got my wish,” he said, kissing you once again, tasting of chocolate and adoration.

----------

It seemed surreal, walking from the car to the docks, where a small boat awaited to take you to the extravagant yacht. When you asked Jungkook out for a date, a month and half ago, you wouldn’t have imagined that you would be going to a party where actual paparazzi roamed at the entrance.

For being one of the richest men in Korea, Jungkook never acted that way. Sure, he may live in a wildly secure gated community with actual celebrities as neighbours, and his watch probably cost more than your car, but Jungkook never flaunted his wealth, and so you often forgot. Playing video games over a bowl of 300 won ramen and arguing over who won only to devolve into tickles and kisses were how you knew Jungkook, not the man photographed by the media in tailored Armani suits and sports cars. It was a bit jarring seeing the extent of his wealth, especially when you finally climbed aboard the yacht.

The boat was akin to a hotel on sea, the deck lit up brilliantly with chandeliers that seemed to float as a live jazz band performed on stage. Servers walked around guests dressed in the latest runway fashion, an eclectic mix of people from vastly different age groups but exceedingly similar income brackets. You felt out of place, dressed in a little black dress from Zara, akin to a coal dropped among diamonds.

You grabbed a flute of champagne, scanning the floor for the birthday boy, and unsurprisingly finding him surrounded by his friends. You had seen him only a few hours before, but you felt butterflies return as soon as your eyes met his. Jungkook was the first man you had ever felt that way with, like he was a childhood fantasy personified, making your palms sweat and your heart somersault. You weren’t someone who fell for people quickly, but it seemed as if two years of pining had snowballed into a yearning that never seemed to be satiated.

When Jungkook met your eyes, he forgot where he was, music and Seokjin’s half baked jokes fading into the background just like the movies as he made his way to you. “You came,” he said softly when he reached you, somewhat dazed by how beautiful you looked. He couldn’t help the blush that made its way over his cheeks as you smiled at him.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you asked, just as his arms circled you, making your breath hitch a little. Jungkook smirked at your subtle inhale, enjoying the effect he had on you. He still couldn’t believe that somehow in such a short time he had found someone that made him feel supported. Jungkook hadn’t truly realized how alone he felt in the past twenty three years of his life. People often say you have to know sadness to know happiness, but he hadn’t realized that you have to know companionship to know loneliness, and he never knew how lonely he was before he met you — a little boat floating on a never-ending still ocean.

Although celebrations were in full swing, he couldn’t focus on guests, mingling with them a chore he’d rather escape. And so about an hour after your arrival, he decided to do just that.

Your hand in his and champagne bubbles in his head, he led you to below deck, where the rooms were. It felt a little funny, a weird parallel to how his friends would run away to smelly frat rooms during a party in undergrad, but he felt giddy almost running through the decadently decorated hallways, trying rooms till he found an open one, your giggles a soundtrack to the moment.

“You can’t just run away from your own party, silly boy,” you joked as he pulled you into the room, locking the door and walking backwards to the bed, dragging you along with a grin.

“Can’t help it. You look too pretty,” he said with a giggle, sitting down and pulling you to him, hands on your waist as you stood between his legs.

“You’re just horny,” you snorted, an eye roll on the ready.

“Yes, I am,” he exclaimed jovially, falling back onto the bed, his hands behind his head, eyes closed. You laughed at his silly mood, more than a little turned on by his blatant admission. Over the last month, the two of you had been getting close. By now you had his taste memorized, and you craved his lavender vanilla scent throughout the day, but you still felt a little hesitant to move things forward physically.

Jungkook was romantic. The kind of romantic who would send you karaoke covers of love songs, who would pick a flower from the neighbour’s garden to put in your hair, who would hide silly post-it notes in your books and laptop just to make you smile. Before Jungkook, you hadn’t known romance. You had written it off as a fantasy devised by the media to sell movies and dramas, unattainable and unrealistic. Your previous experiences were proof enough, cheating boyfriends and one night stands the norm in your dating life.

He opened his eyes when you didn’t respond with your usual quips, finding you still staring at him, worrying your lip. He faltered a little, but refused to let the liquid courage die down, reaching to grab your hand, interlacing your fingers.

“Aren’t you gonna come get me, Tiger?” he asked, lips upturned in a smirk as he pulled you towards him, making you fall on top of him. He laughed at your horrified gasp, hugging you tight and kissing the top of your head as you relaxed. “Why are you worried?”

“Why aren’t you?” you countered, finding this sexually confident Jungkook a little jarring. You could hear his steady heartbeat from where your head rested on his chest, a change from the usual nervous pounding.

“Because it's you,” he said softly, lifting your head gently to look at you, eyes shining with adoration. “You make me brave,” he said. His thumbs caressed your cheekbones as he cupped your face, his lips meeting yours, and you felt as if you would explode.

You kissed him back as his arms circled your lower back, pulling you higher up on him. You felt at ease, and because he made you brave too, you straddled him, your knees on the bed next to his hips as his hands trailed to your thighs, gripping the flesh and massaging it slowly.

Much like every time you kissed Jungkook, you were soon breathless, not wanting to ever stop as his tongue wrestled yours. When you bit his lip teasingly, he whined, his hips moving up to start grinding into yours, your dress now hiked up almost to your waist.

“Ha!” you exclaimed, pulling away as he chased your lips with a scowl. You pinned him to the bed, hands on his shoulders as you laughed. “You whimpered first!”

“Are we still playing that stupid game?” he asked, rolling his eyes, laughing as you gleefully nodded. Jungkook knew why you were stalling. You always did it when things got too hot and heavy, giving him an easy out with jokes, afraid to make him uncomfortable, but Jungkook didn’t want an out now.

He had spent his whole life searching for a soulmate, and nothing else explained the connection he felt with you. You had quite literally crashed into his life, challenged him for two years, and then somehow helped him when he needed it the most. Maybe it was too soon to tell, but he didn’t care. He had never felt this way around anyone, not even Candy who he was convinced he was in love with. But seeing Candy didn’t feel like this. Like he could finally breathe, like he was in a meadow surrounded by jasmine and lilies, or in a cocoon wrapped up snugly.

Smiling widely, he flipped you over, hands next to your head as he looked down on you. “My turn,” he said with a chuckle, swiftly attaching his mouth to your neck, where he knew you were especially sensitive. He suckled the skin, caressing it with his tongue, and coaxing the breathy moans he loved so much.

You called his name and he looked up, not being able to resist tasting your lips again. In every other instance in his life when he had gotten close to having sex, he felt insecure, felt this intense pressure to perform, but right now he felt safe. Perhaps it was the alcohol confusing his emotions, but he was certain that it was you, your presence a shelter from the storm.

“Be my girlfriend,” he said, now leaning on his forearms, his nose nuzzling yours, and for the first time, you didn’t have a witty remark. Nodding wildly, you wrapped your arms around him, kissing him once again, your lips fervent as you lost yourself in him. Eager kisses led to even more eager undressing as you rid him of his shirt, running your hands up and down his chiseled abdomen.

“Lie back,” you whispered, pushing at his chest till he fell back on the bed. You were on him immediately, kissing down his jaw to his neck to his chest, leaving a little trail of love bites that made him keen.

You giggled at the sound he made as your lips circled his nipple. He was sensitive and you couldn’t wait to unravel him, proud of being the first one he had trusted to be this vulnerable with. “I thought you were all smug now, Jeon?” you asked with a grin as you looked up at him, his eyes darkened and his bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

“I -” he began, only to break into a whine when you playfully brought your teeth into the mix, the feeling shooting from his nipple straight to his dick. He panted, trying to collect his scrambling thoughts but all he could was plead, face flushed as he closed his eyes. “Please Y/N… Please.”

Jungkook was about to lose his mind. No, scratch that. Jungkook was about to lose his load, as your lips moved lower on his body. He felt already on edge and you had barely unbuttoned his pants. His hips moved without instructions as you pulled his pants off, the material of them and his boxers stuck mid thigh. He wanted to shimmy them off, but you were too impatient, and he was too powerless to protest as you licked a strip up his length.

His legs twitched at the action, his core tightening as he felt an ache in his balls. Your mouth encased him and his breath hitched at the way your tongue continued to lap at his dick when you moved your head up and down. He was going to cum within thirty seconds if you kept that up, and despite his warnings you continued, winking up at him when he told you he was close.

“Wanna taste you, Koo,” you said, your voice raspy, before you took him deeper. His hips rose of their accord, matching the way you bobbed on him, and it was with a high pitched cry that he came. You relished his taste, the bittersweet salt coating your taste buds as you swallowed him, continuing your ministrations till he was mewling, hand pulling at your hair.

“Happy birthday,” you said as Jungkook panted, his breaths heavy and inconsistent. He never knew an orgasm could feel this good. Is this what it was like being with someone? Did it always feel like galaxies exploding in his chest, or was it you?

He turned his head to see you lying next to him, both hands under your head as you smiled softly at him, and he couldn’t help returning it just as tenderly. He lifted his hand to push a strand of your hair behind your hair before leaning in and kissing you gently. When his tongue met yours, he could taste himself, something he thought would be repulsive but only ignited more lust within him.

Before he could stop himself, he was on you, his hands undoing your zipper deftly and pulling the dress off your body. Seeing you in just your underwear below him made him almost short circuit, stalling his movements as he forgot what he was even trying to do.

“What’s wrong?” you asked shyly, a little taken aback by how he was staring, mouth agape.

“So pretty,” he whispered in awe, eyes roaming your body as he sat on his heels next to you. You couldn't help but chuckle at his reverence, reaching behind you to undo your bra and tossing it on the floor, before doing the same with your panties. The sound that Jungkook made at your actions could only be described as needy but he still didn’t move, just looking at you, unsure of how to proceed.

Sitting up, you brought his lips to yours, guiding his hand to your chest. You sighed when he hesitantly rolled a nipple between his fingers, repeating the action again and again. Paired with his eager kisses, you were soon dripping. The two of you were on your knees, his arms now winding around you and moving lower.

The more Jungkook kissed you, the more natural it felt to be doing this with you. He hadalways been saving himself for the right person, and now he was grateful he had waited for you to find him. His lips moved from your lips to your chest, engulfing a nipple in his mouth, copying the way you had sucked and ran your tongue over his, grinning when you mewled, your hands tugging at his hair. Maybe he didn’t have to be terrible at his first time, he thought, and it gave him the confidence to move his tattooed hand between your legs.

He nipped at your chest, groaning when he felt how wet you were, and all he wanted to do was to taste you, make you feel as good as you made him feel.

“C-can I try to…” he trailed off, looking at you as you cupped his face. You nodded, and Jungkook pushed you to the bed, a little too aggressively, causing you to wince in response. He apologized, kissing you once again before moving between your legs, and settling on his stomach.

Fuck, is that what you smelt like? He was going to get addicted, he knew it as soon as he inhaled your musky scent, and when he started licking at your folds tentatively, he knew he had found his favourite flavour.

Your hips jolted when he immediately entered you with his tongue, lapping at you quickly as if on a mission to devour you. He kept up his pace and you moaned, hands gripping the sheets. It felt so good, but he kept avoiding your clit and you felt as if you were on the edge, your mind blank, only his name flowing from your tongue.

Hearing his name, he moved further down, his tongue fucking into you as his lips pulled your labia, making you lose your mind. You couldn’t take it anymore; you needed to cum, you needed him to touch your clit so you could fall apart before you cried. Pulling his hair, you pleaded, and he continued his actions.

“Baby… please! More! Please!” you exclaimed, and when he refused to change his technique, your hips started rolling against his face. He moaned loudly, his arms wrapping around your legs as he let you use him. With the friction of his nose rubbing on your clit, you finally unravelled, screaming affirmations for your new boyfriend as he continued to lap at you.

You pulled him away, shuddering, whimpering expletives, and he grinned when he kissed you. Jungkook knew he wanted to make you cum, but he didn’t know how fucking hot the image of you shaking in his arms would be.

“I give you the best head I have ever given and you edge me?” you said breathlessly, brushing your hair off your face where it was plastered in sweat. “You’re such a tease!”

“I didn’t edge you!” Jungkook protested, his indignance not visible under how brightly he was smiling, still giddy over making you into a fucked out mess. In all honesty, Jungkook had no idea he was edging you. He had just followed what he had seen in porn, but he was definitely going to remember that for next time.

Still on top of you, he nuzzled into your neck and you couldn’t help but giggle, stroking his hair.

“You okay?” you asked, your heart blooming when he laid beside you, pulling you to his chest.

“Better than okay,” he replied, kissing the top of your head. “Happy. Ecstatic! Euphoric!” he yelled, his arms tight around you, and you burst out laughing, your lips pressed to his collarbone.

“You are a dork,” you said gleefully.

“No, I’m your boyfriend,” he countered, giggling with excitement, before he simmered, his lips meeting yours gently. He wanted more, so much more. Wanted to sink into you, make you fall apart on his dick, and he could feel himself getting hard again just at the thought.

However, your calm moment was interrupted by his phone ringing. Groaning, he separated from you, answering to his father asking him where he was. He dressed quickly, pulling up his pants and shyly turning away when you helped him with his shirt, buttoning it much slower than when you had unbuttoned it.

“It’s probably something stupid, like meeting someone,” he rolled his eyes, watching you pick up your bra from the ground, but before you could put it on, he grabbed it, biting his lip and looking at you mischeviously. “Stay naked,” he whispered.

“Jeon!” you exclaimed, a little bashful at his forward demand.

“Come on! Please?” he asked, his eyes big as he pouted at you, trying to act cute as he pushed you back onto the bed, pulling the covers over you. You rolled your eyes at his antics as he kissed you again, hungry and desperate, making you moan at the way his tongue met yours.

“I still have to lose my virginity,” he said with a wink as he left a few more kisses before leaving, you shaking your head in faux disappointment. In reality, you were on cloud nine, turned on beyond belief for how the night would unravel.

----------

Jungkook whistled as he made his way to the top deck, eyes peeled for his father. He felt as if nothing could break him, elated with anticipation and impatient to join you back in the room. A goofy grin seemed to plastered on his face as he recalled the way you looked flushed from the orgasm he had given to you. Jungkook’s ego was sky high; maybe he was the sex god everyone thought he was after all. He giggled to himself at the thought.

“Hey Jungkook!” a raspy voice called out to him, and he turned around to see Yoongi walking over to him with long determined steps, a scowl adorned on his face. “Where’s Tiger?” he asked coldly, a contrast to how he usually babied his youngest friend, but Jungkook was too in his head to decipher the tone.

“You mean my girlfriend?” he said smugly, his nose scrunching as he tried to keep the dopey smile off his face. It was easier when he saw the way Yoongi’s face fell, immediately concerned for his friend. “Hyung, what’s wrong?”

Yoongi sighed, hugging Jungkook as he tried to not recoil in shock. Yoongi never hugged anyone first, unless something was wrong. He worriedly scanned the room, scared that his mother would be hurt once again, anxiety clawing at his nerves.

He relaxed a little when his eyes landed on her, safe and laughing with his father. Not knowing what could be wrong, he repeated his question, only for Yoongi to let him go and look at him with a sad smile.

“She used you, Jungkook,” Yoongi said with another sigh, and Jungkook’s confusion only grew.

“Who?” he asked, brows furrowed as he took the phone his older friend handed to him.

He felt his blood run cold as he looked at the screen, heart shattering as if someone took a hammer to it. No, not shattering. It felt as if it had been ripped from his chest and put in a blender. He could feel his pulse in his ears as the screen in front of him turned blurry.

He didn’t realize he was crying till a teardrop landed on Yoongi’s phone, magnifying your handle as if to mock him.

Renowned Youtuber Y/N Y/L/N callmetiger95 Appointed Lead Strategist of Saga Games.

Maybe everyone was right after all. Soulmates weren’t real, love was a sham, and Jeon Jungkook was an idiot.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Drabble

taglist- @ressjeon, @joonights, @mwitsmejk, @daggerbeneathmygown, @moonchild1, @drumsofheaven, @thisartemisnevermisses, @kaepjjangiya, @bbydoejk, @emsuzz, @crewzie-chan, @cheesecakes-randomshitz, @aroseforyoongi, @awhnamjoon, @agustdjoon, @codeinebelle, @hobiandsprite

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #ficscafe #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts x reader #bts fanfic #thebtswritersclub #thetruthuntoldnet #bangtanuniversity #btsnoonanet #bts scenarios #purplearmynet #52hertz

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fuwushiguro · 3 years

Text

This Is Your Time, Don’t Waste It

Hawks x f!reader

Genre: Smut

notes: this is part of @/nomadmilk’s pretty little head collab! also ty to @/em-plosion to beta reading for me like an absolute goddess 💕 rly rly annoyed with tumblr not letting me add my tag list to this fic or tag anyone or add links ☹

Warnings: 18+, dubcon (sex after drinking champagne), tw semi public sex, oral (m receiving), praise kink, degradation, dumbification.

Words: 1.8k

You take after your mother. Dumb as a rock with air in your head where your brain should be. It’s okay though; because if someone gave you the choice to start your life over with a brain instead of your beauty, you’d turn them down. You have pretty privilege. And that is priceless. Who needs to be smart when you can use your good looks to get anything you need? That’s how you bagged him.

That’s how you became the number two hero’s little bimbo.

He wants a world where heroes have too much time on their hands. He won’t hesitate to take time for himself whenever he wants. Whenever you want. When he told you he was flying you out to London for the weekend, you just about died. You flew over on his private jet. You asked him why he has a private jet, since he has wings and can fly anywhere whenever he wants. His response was simple and truthful.

Do you want to run everywhere just because you have legs?

You suppose he had a point.

You enjoyed champagne together on the flight and even watched a movie. But Hawks is an insatiable man. He loves what a pretty little airhead you are. It makes him feel superior, it makes his ego swell. He talks down to you about the movie, the director, the cast, the cinematography, and he just adores how blown your eyes become because you don’t understand a single thing he’s talking about. It sends the blood pumping straight to his cock and turns him on to no describable means. He tells the staff working on the jet not to interrupt, being quite abrupt in telling them that he is going to fuck you stupid and doesn’t want to be disturbed. You’re more than happy when he drags you onto his lap to straddle him and ride his cock. It’s all you’re good for anyway, his precious little fuck hole, his sweet dumb bimbo.

You take after your mother. She might be dumb, but she used her looks and her goods to get whatever a man would offer to her. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

The streets of London are up in arms when they realise the man you’re linked with is in town. Paparazzi swarm you, girls are screaming and you can’t help but beam with pride. He’s yours, and yet, everyone else wants a piece of him so badly.

He takes you to Selfridges, you can’t believe you’re really here. You’ve always wanted to come, and your boyfriend has made it a reality. It’s beyond impressive. He called ahead to get the whole store closed down, just for you.

You’re holding hands as you enter and Hawks can’t help but smile since you look like a kid in a candy shop. You’re greeted by staff, more champagne. Hawks is holding your hand like a protective father making sure their kid doesn’t run off at the park. The inside is so beautiful, so decadent, so rich. You turn to him. His breath catches in his throat and his mouth is slightly open as he stares at you. Your eyes are sparkling, and he isn’t sure if it’s the lights in the store reflecting or a genuine glimmer in your delighted gaze. He smiles, you really are so pretty.

“Run wild baby, anything you want is yours.” he tells you.

He didn’t think your eyes could possibly widen any more, but they do. You let out a squeal and kiss his cheek before you strut off to your first department. He knows he’s it’s gonna be a long day. Anything for his dumb little baby.

You’re almost impressed to see that fans have been waiting for your boyfriend outside of the store since you entered almost eight hours ago. They hate you, but you don’t care. You can’t hear the hate over the sound of your boyfriend whining while he cums into your hole each and every night, so it means nothing to you. Their noses are smashed against the store windows, you can see paparazzi too. You are first to be seen by them all so they become antsy. But when they spot him they become wild. He grunts, he doesn’t have patience for any of the nonsense tonight. There are phones being pointed through the windows everywhere you look, and you know there’ll be more at every angle as soon as you step out. You’re scrolling Twitter as your boyfriend thinks of a plan, you spot video footage of the two of you already posted on the app. You show Hawks and he smiles.

“So, you like the limelight huh baby?”

You’re blushing, embarrassed that you’re so obvious.

“Come on, let’s give them something to talk about.” he tells you, grasping your hand to lead you outside.

The screams, the flashes, the ambiance, it’s all intoxicating. He doesn’t pose, so neither do you. Instead, you follow his lead as the local police do their best to keep the fans and tabloids back. You look ethereal by your boyfriends side. Bags and bags with the Selfridges logo on covering your arms. Even Hawks is holding a few for you. You look perfect by his side. The perfect pretty eye candy who’s spending his money.

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

While Hawks is driving his new Aston Martin, you’re scrolling your social media feeds to see what people are saying and what you look like in the photos. Of course all of the pathetic little fan girls are saying you’re fat, ugly, a slut and everything else they can think of, but who cares. They’re just jealous after all. But the actual media is giving you nothing but praise. They’re saying the outfit you chose to wear was classy and you look radiant next to your equally attractive boyfriend. It makes you happy that you’re receiving so much approval from the world for your relationship, since it makes your boyfriends life that much easier. Hawks is pleased too, but nothing would stop him seeing you either way.

He parks up by a side road just to take a breather and let his mind shut off for a minute. It’s been a busy day for both of you, and you babbling incessantly about how much fun you have had is a lot to handle.

“Kei, what do you think of… where is it?” you mumble as you search through multiple Selfridges bags, “Ah!” you speak, pulling out a black box with Christian Louboutin engraved on the front. You pull out a cold glass bottle filled with pink translucent goo. You’ve seen these lipsticks and glosses so many times on Instagram from different celebrity accounts; you never thought you’d own one yourself.

“It’s gorgeous sweetheart,” he spoke over enunciating, coddling you and your excitement, “how much was it?”

“£60, I know it’s sounds like a lot, but look,” you began. In an instant your lips were pouted and you were covering them in your new gloss. You rubbed your lips together ensuring it got into all of the little cracks and then smiled at your boyfriend. “It’s such a nice colour and I can wear it with anything… so it’s worth it.” it was almost like you were trying to convince yourself more than him. But he shook his head, he didn’t mind the cost. It was a genuine question out of curiosity.

“You’re worth every penny baby, always.”

His kind words made you squirm, you began squeezing your thighs together to alleviate the building tension at your core. He’s been such a good boyfriend to you and today has been the best day of your life. You want to repay him, so you lean over and kiss his lips.

“Can I show you how grateful I am?” you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear. You both smile into each other’s mouths and kiss some more. He nods and your nimble fingers make quick work of his belt. Frenzied kisses halt as you focus on freeing his cock. It’s cute, really, how dumb your face becomes when you see his shaft spring out from his trousers. You’re staring so hard you forget what you’re doing, a little bit of drool pools on the corner of your lips and dribbles onto his thigh.

“Hey,” he speaks, scooping the dribble from your face with his index finger and shoving it back in your mouth, “save that for when you’re suckin’. What’s the hold up sweetheart? Aren’tcha grateful anymore?” he chastises playfully, you shake your head and take his length in your mouth. “Oh – fuck – slow down.”

“Can’t,” you say, removing yourself from him, “need you.”

Hawks begins to drive to find somewhere more secluded for you to carry on working him. He parks in a shady as hell alleyway, picking you up and forcing you on his lap. He wants you on your knees outside of the car, he needs more space.

“Look at you baby, lookin’ dumber than usual, my cock makes you real stupid h-huh?” he stuttered as your mouth was like heaven to him, draining him of more precum that you didn’t hesitate to use to your advantage.

He kept moving your hair from your face so that you could do the best job possible. It took everything he had to not force you down on him, he was so desperate and needy, just like you. You were dying for him to fuck you even stupider, but you wanted to treat him for being so perfect.

“So pretty with a dick in your mouth. Looks so pretty with the lip gloss I bought you…” he cooed. The praise went straight to your cunt and you weren’t sure how much longer you could last without being filled up.

The grip he had on your hair tightened, your eyes rolled back as he finally pushed your head down until he was almost at your throat.

“Through your nose baby.” Hawks said with a groan, rubbing his thumb endearingly against your cheek. You pulled in a deep breath, trying so hard to be good for him. “That’s it,” he smirked, head falling back with a sigh, “dumb little angel can’t think with her hero’s big cock stuffing those sweet lips.”

Your sucking became sloppier, messier, noisier. The lewdness made Hawks’ toes curl, he was writhing around like he was fighting it, fighting the urge, fighting the impending orgasm. But when you took him in all the way to the back of your throat, he immediately blew his load down your oesophagus. Pretty mixed whines of your name and, oh fuck I’m cumming filled the eerie night air as he used your throat as a little fuck toy. He was panting for a while and you kissed his thigh as you got up and sat back on the passenger side. You let him take the time to relax by yet again scrolling your socials.

You were going to get some unimpressed looks as you entered the luxurious and expensive hotel Hawks had booked for your stay in London. Your hair was a mess. Your new lip gloss was smeared all over your face. Black mascara ran down your cheeks, your eyeshadow and eyeliner were smudged and you had to take your fake strip lashes off since they were hanging by a thread. And your mouth smelt like a combination of your boyfriends cock, sperm, and the tic-tacs you were sucking to try and cover up the former.

But you didn’t care.

Because your boyfriend is the number two hero.

And you’re his pretty little bimbo.

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shuadotcom · 3 years

Text

Just Like the Movies | JJK (M)

❀ Summary: When you need a fake date for your cousin’s wedding and all of your other friends have plans, that only leaves your best friend Jungkook - who you also happen to be completely in love with. It’ll be easy getting through a week of fake dating him, right?

❀ Pairing: Jungkook x Female!Reader

❀ Rating & Genre: 18+, angst, fluff, smut, friends/idiots to lovers au, fake dating au, college au (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

❀ Warnings: Profanity, alcohol consumption, unprotected drunk sex (both parties are consenting), fingering, oral (female receiving), Jungkook throws a punch but that’s it.

❀ Words: 16.6k

❀ A/N: This was written for @bangtanarmynet’s Spring Will Come Again event! My prompts were:

(8)"So I told them that I'm in a relationship." "And now you're asking me to do what? Be your plus one in a fake dating AU?" (7) Spring Break is coming and whilst most of A’s friends are preparing to go on fun vacations, A has nothing planned. That is until their best friend and secret crush B, invites them on a vacation abroad.

Huge, massive thank you to @erotikkook, @hisunshiine, and @lunarlxve for being my amazing, wonderful, life-saving beta readers! Without them, this fic would probably be a hot-ass mess. Extra special thank you to Vanessa for coming up with the title! I am horrible at titles and she thought of this and I almost yelled I was so happy with it, so thank you again 💕 The beautiful, magnificent banner was made by the talented @jinfizz. I really love it Mads ty again!! ❤️

I feel like I say this everytime I finish a fic more than like 4k, but this is now my longest fic to date. I was chugging away at this for... a while and it has had many rewrites and changes, but here she is in all her final glory! Enjoy 😊

“Are you sure you both have to leave?” you whine, flopping onto Taehyung’s bed.

“For the tenth time Y/n, yes. My grandparents really need my help on the farm.” Taehyung says, reaching for one of his folded shirts that lay beside you.

“And you know if I skip going home for the second year in a row, my mom’ll show up on campus and literally drag me home,” Jimin adds, zipping up his suitcase. “Besides, I still don’t know why you’re being so dramatic about going home with Jungkook. You’d think you’d be excited to pretend to be his fake girlfriend with how whipped you are for him.”

In response, you fling the nearest article of clothing at him, which just so happens to be a pair of Taehyung’s underwear. “Shut up, don’t be an ass! I’d be more excited if he didn’t react the way he did when I asked.”

“He told you he was just nervous he’d fuck it up, remember?” Taehyung reminds you.

“Yeah, but still. I don’t know how the hell I’m going to last a week pretending to date someone I wish was actually my boyfriend.” Jimin and Taehyung share a knowing look when you’re not watching, but don’t say anything more.

With one of your cousins getting married at the same time as your university’s spring break, your family is ecstatic. They’re looking forward to seeing you after being so far from home. Being a student from another country meant that when you moved to South Korea for school, you would be leaving behind your large, close-knit family. You use any opportunity you have to see them.

The problem, though, is that you know as soon as you show up, you’ll get question after question thrown at you. You’ll be asked where your significant other was and when you were going to settle down. As the oldest cousin in your family, you’re used to the interrogation, but that doesn’t make it any less grating.

That’s why when your mom brought the wedding up and asked if you were bringing your partner, you said yes, but intentionally avoided saying who it was.

You’ve asked every member of your friend group. Unfortunately, with Taehyung, Jimin, Seokjin, and your roommate Sana all going home for the break, that left your closest friend out of the group: Jungkook.

Jungkook, who you have also been in love with since you met two years ago and whom you’ve been pining over for just as long. You didn’t intend on asking him, but after Jimin threatened to tell Jungkook that you wanted to ‘suck the soul of him’, you caved and asked him when the two of you were in the library studying for a quiz.

“You know how last month, I mentioned that my cousin’s wedding is coming up during spring break?” you asked suddenly.

“Yeah.”

“And you know how I told you the other day that I had plans for us to go abroad on vacation together for spring break?”

This caught Jungkook’s attention. He looked up from his textbook, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Mmhmm…”

“Well, I need you to come with me and pretend to be my boyfriend.”

“What?!” he said a little too loudly, earning a dirty look from a student at another table.

“Oh, come on, you know how my family is. Always up my ass about dating and settling down. They’re all going to give me so much shit if I show up alone, so I told them that I’m in a relationship.”

"And now you're asking me to do what? Be your plus one in a fake dating AU?"

This wasn’t the reaction you expected, so you tried to ignore the hurt you felt at Jungkook being so against the idea of dating you.

“Please? I’ll still pay for your ticket like I said I would. I’ll make sure not to be all sappy in public and make you uncomfortable.”

You watched as multiple unreadable expressions flashed across Jungkook’s face. Every second of silence had you regretting asking him more and more.

“Alright,” Jungkook finally sighed. “I’ll do it. And you won’t make me uncomfortable. I just don’t want to blow your cover, is all.” He scratched the back of his neck, nervously looking away.

Relieved that Jungkook didn’t seem as turned off as he did with being your fake boyfriend, you brushed off his hesitance. “Is that what you’re worried about? Don’t be silly. It’ll be fine. We’ll just need to work on our story, is all.”

You went back to your textbook, feeling less stressed than you had going into this conversation.

Next to you, Jungkook sent a panicked text to Jimin and Taehyung, telling them he won’t be able to survive pretending to be your boyfriend because he knows it’ll never be true. He wanted more than anything to tell you how much he loves you, but you don’t feel the same, so he’ll keep it to himself.

The flight home is a long one and has both you and Jungkook feeling restless in your seats. You’ve gone through the account of how you got together at least every four hours of the sixteen-hour flight to make sure it’s solid. Since your mom and siblings already know who Jungkook is, having met him multiple times over video calls, you luckily didn’t need to fabricate too much.

When asked how you got together, the story is that Jungkook confessed to you three months ago when you were hanging out studying one night. You’re going to say you’ve always had feelings for him, so you said yes, and so far, it has been a fantastic time together.

Even though you’re an expert at hiding any reaction about your true feelings towards Jungkook, saying it out loud made you ache. More than anything, you wanted it to be real, but you had long since made peace with the idea that you and Jungkook would likely never get together.

He isn’t the first person you’ve been friends with that you had developed feelings for. There have been a few other occasions, but the first was in your first year of middle school. You had developed a crush on a boy you’d known all year and told him during a school dance, thinking it would be the perfect scenario to confess how you felt. Unfortunately, you had misread some supposed signals from him because he flat out rejected you and wasn’t too kind about it. You still remember the harsh words about how you would “never be his type,” and the laughter that followed.

Soon after, word had spread to your friend group, and he, along with a few others, stopped speaking with you. Just like that, you had lost some of your close friends because of a silly crush. You know Jungkook isn’t comparable to a childish teenage boy and that your current friends won’t abandon you (seeing how they all know how you feel). However, the fear and the hurt still lingers like a sour taste at the back of your mouth. The thought of ruining your friendship with Jungkook terrifies you. If that means you have to pine over him for the remainder of college and into adulthood, then so be it.

Upon finally landing and collecting your bags, your mind is still swirling with what-ifs around if you should admit your feelings to Jungkook, but you’re finally stopped when you hear your name being called across the airport.

Turning with your bags still in hand, you see your mom, brother, and sister waving you down as they rush over to you. Before you can properly greet them, your mom pulls you into a tight hug.

“Y/n! Oh my god, you’re here!” She sounds like she’s going to cry as she rocks you back and forth. “You’re finally here!”

“Yes, I’m here. I missed you.” You hug her back, getting misty-eyed yourself.

“Alright, mom, can we hug her too?” your brother calls from behind her. Reluctantly, she releases her grip on you so your siblings can each give you hugs of their own.

The four of you fall into chatter before you remember Jungkook standing awkwardly beside you.

“Ah, right! Jungkook, you’ve already met them on video chat, but this is my mom, my sister Kayla, and my brother Ray. Guys, this is my boyfriend, Jungkook.”

“Hi,” he chirps out, offering a small wave. Your mom immediately pulls Jungkook into a hug.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you in person!” He looks taken aback but returns the hug anyway.

After all the greetings are done, your brother leads everyone through the airport and into the parking lot. Your sister lags behind to walk next to you as Jungkook, your brother, and mom walk ahead of you, making conversation with him.

“Wow. He’s even hotter in person,” Kayla comments, eyes very clearly fixated on Jungkook’s ass in his favorite pair of ripped jeans.

“Um, can you not?!” You push her half-jokingly, but she barely notices.

“Oh, chill out. I’m not going to steal your boyfriend from you. I’m just admiring the scenery, is all.” You shoot her another look. “Fine, I’ll stop.” She loops her arm through yours as you continue outside to your brother’s parked SUV.

Ray and Jungkook pack both of your suitcases into the trunk as you pile in, your mom taking shotgun and Kayla sitting to one side, leaving you to sit between her and Jungkook.

The ride through traffic takes a little time, but your mother fills the silence with talk of your cousin's wedding even though you’ve already talked about the whole thing at least twenty times.

Your cousin and her soon-to-be wife had asked your mom to hold the wedding in the backyard of your childhood home. Your house was always where your family would convene for reunions, birthday parties, and barbeques, simply because it was the biggest, so naturally, this was your cousin's first choice.

Even though you already know this, and all of the other small details of the wedding, it doesn’t stop your mom from pulling up pictures on her phone. She shows Jungkook all of the centerpieces and goody bags they’ve already made. She gushes about how excited she is to see one of her nieces finally get married and says it while giving you a look that you know all too well. “And you’ll be next, right?” you can practically hear her asking you.

As if sensing your discomfort rising, your brother pipes up, launching into a story about a new client he’s building a house for and how hard it is being an architect. He shoots you a look through the rearview mirror, and you nod, letting him know how grateful you are at the conversation rescue.

“Wow,” you breathe out once the car is parked and everyone is standing in the driveway. Even after all these years, your childhood home has stayed the same. Pale blue paint on the outside with the same white shutters and white door. The lawn is slightly unruly, but the tree you’ve fallen out of plenty of times still stands tall and proud.

“It’s good to have you home,” your mother says from behind you, squeezing your arm before heading up the walkway.

Once inside, the all too familiar scent that smells like cleaning supplies and freshly cooked food surrounds you as you lead Jungkook upstairs. The two of you would be staying in your childhood bedroom, which your mother has, surprisingly, left untouched.

Upon entering, you can’t help but laugh as you plop onto your bed. It’s truly the same, you think, as you take in your My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy posters that line the walls and your desk that still holds a stack of Twilight books. Your queen bed even has the same pale pink comforter you left on it when you went away for college - clean and freshly washed, of course.

Jungkook eyes a few pictures you have hanging up on a corkboard above your desk with some of your high school friends and can’t help but smile at the sight of you in braces and mid-2000s fashion. Even if he had been in the same country as you in high school and met you then, he’d still love you the way he does now.

“So…” you speak, breaking the silence that had taken over the two of you. “This isn’t too weird, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“This.” You gesture between the two of you and your bedroom. “All of this. Lying to my family and being in my bedroom.”

“You act like I don’t hang out in your bedroom back at school.”

“Jungkook, you know what I mean. We’ve never shared a bed.” You shrug, playing it off as a casual observation as if your hand isn’t trembling at the thought.

As if the realization hits him at the same time, Jungkook’s eyes widen slightly as his gaze darts to the bed. “Oh, right. Well, I mean, I can always just sleep on the floor when everyone else goes to bed so they won’t know. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You don’t need to do that. It’s not that big of a deal. I was just saying.” Kicking yourself for even bringing it up, you try to think of a way to steer the conversation away from sleeping arrangements. You feel relief when there’s a knock on your door, interrupting the awkward atmosphere. “Come in!”

Your sister pokes her head in, eyes taking in your body still sprawled on the bed with Jungkook standing close by, not having moved from where he was observing your photos.

“Aunt Cora and Aunt Tia are here,” she informs you.

“Okay, we’ll be right behind you.” You jump up, anxious to leave the awkwardness behind, and follow her out of the room, Jungkook in tow.

“Did I interrupt?” Kayla mumbles in your ear, her eyebrow wiggling.

“No. We were just talking.” You clear your throat, hoping Jungkook isn’t listening.

“Mmhmm. Talking. Whatever you say. Tonight, can you just please remember that we share a wall? I can put my headphones on when I sleep. I just ask that you give a girl a heads up.”

“Kayla!” You nearly trip down the stairs at her words, your cheeks instantly heating up as she speaks to both you and Jungkook.

Thankfully, none of you can come up with anything else to say before your Aunt Cora spots you and immediately rushes over to pull you into a hug.

You spend the rest of the evening greeting your aunts and cousins, including your cousin Nikki and her fianceé Diana. All embarrassment about your arrangement with Jungkook is forgotten as you bond with your family. You haven’t seen your family since you left for school, so you prioritize getting caught up in everyone’s lives.

Jungkook himself also spends plenty of time bonding with the family. Once you play 20 questions with your family, they begin to question him about his family, how he grew up, and Korea in general. He graciously answers all of their questions, his figure visibly relaxing, and he even eventually falls into a more casual conversation with your cousin Jason.

At some point, your five-year-old cousin Gina decides that she likes Jungkook the most and proceeds to mold herself to his side for the rest of the night. Seeing how comfortable he is holding and playing with her makes your heart clench, and your cheeks hurt from how much you smile as you watch him.

“Looks like he’s good with kids,” your mom muses from next to you as you help her prepare some ears of corn for boiling. You both watch Jungkook at the kitchen table with Gina in his lap, reading her one of her books that she shoved in his face.

“Yeah, he is.” You hand her a corn cob as you hear Jungkook over the chatter of the rest of the family, making his voice a pitch higher while reading.

“Does this mean grandbabies are in the future?” This question jolts you out of your trance and you turn to meet her smirk.

“Mom!”

“Oh come on, don’t ‘mom’ me. He’s cute, polite, he’s good with kids, and it’s obvious you really like him. You haven’t even been here an entire day, but I see the way you look at him.”

“I-I don’t-”

“There’s no need to be embarrassed. The way you both ogle each other is cute.” She shrugs and puts the last ear of corn into the boiling pot.

“What do you mean we ‘both ogle each other?’” You’d been ready to abandon the conversation until she mentioned that.

“Just like I said, honey. You’ve been doing it all evening. When one of you isn’t looking, the other is making lovey eyes at the other. It’s obvious you love each other.”

“Aunty! We lost the remote!” One of your cousins interrupts the conversation, running over to your mom and tugging at her shirt.

She tsks at the child but nods. “I’ll come and help you find it. Y/n, keep an eye on the stove, please. The macaroni and cheese should be done any minute now, just make sure no one comes over to pick at anything before it’s done.”

As much as you want to question her more on the looks she claims are mutual, your little cousin grabs her hand and all but yanks her away from you. She has to be imagining things. You’re sure the only looks Jungkook gives you when you aren’t looking are ones of exhaustion at having to pretend like this. It’s only day one, and you still have an entire week like this to go.

Dinner goes off without a hitch. Being surrounded by your family with your mom’s cooking makes you miss being back home with everyone. Still, having Jungkook at the table reminds you of the new life you’ve built in Korea, and you tell yourself that you could never abandon all of that.

After dinner and watching a movie, where half the room ends up talking through it, your family members begin to file out, saying their goodbyes and that they’ll be by tomorrow. You, Jungkook, and your siblings clean up and do the dishes before you all head upstairs into your separate bedrooms for the night.

Once all of the commotion has died down, and it’s just you and Jungkook again, the awkwardness from earlier returns. Only this time, you’re lying in the quiet dark of your bedroom with Jungkook in bed next to you.

Your mind is racing as you try and sleep. You’re distracted by the even sounds of Jungkook breathing next to you and the way heat radiates off of his body and onto you. You’re not sure if he’s actually asleep or if he’s also suffocating in the tense air of the room, but you’re too scared to ask. Eventually, you turn away from him, shutting your eyes and trying to count sheep to see if sleep will find you. The harder you force yourself, though, the tougher rest is to come by.

That’s why when you wake up the following morning, you can practically feel the bags underneath your eyes weighing you down as you get ready for the day. Your sister demands that you go with her to get a dress for the wedding since she, as is typical of her, waited until the last minute to get something to wear.

Jungkook stays behind at Kayla’s request, stating she wants sister time. You have an inkling that she actually wants to use this time to grill you about your relationship. Your suspicions are confirmed as you recline in the chair outside of the fitting room she’s in.

“So...you look pretty tired this morning, Y/n. Long night?” Her suggestive tone clues you in almost immediately.

“Yeah, the time difference is really fucking me up. I’m way too used to Korea time now,” you answer smoothly. This is partially true. You’ve been in Korea for nearly three years now, and your body quickly got acclimated to the different time zone.

You keep your unrequited love anguish to yourself.

“Mmhmm,” Kayla hums. She throws open the dressing room door, sporting a pale yellow spaghetti strap dress.

“Yep. And no on the dress. That color does you no justice whatsoever.” Waving her back into the room, you glance at your phone, not missing the huff she lets out.

“Oh, come on, Y/n! Give me something. I’ll accept mere crumbs even! You don’t have to tell me how big his dick is or anything. Just tell me he’s at least making you cum more than once!” Her loud tone echoes off her dressing room walls and catches the attention of an older woman walking by. She gives you a dirty look which you return with just as much malice, and she picks up the pace and leaves the area.

“Keep it down, okay? But, yes, he does.” Or rather you wish, but again, this is something you think and not vocalize.

“Thank you. If you told me he wasn’t doing it for you, I would’ve lost it. Remember that guy you tried to hook up with at that one party who couldn’t even stay hard and-”

“Anyways, any more questions?!” you interrupt, not wanting to revisit that chapter of your life.

“Yes,” Kayla starts as she steps out to showcase the next dress: a flowy black, strapless number. “Tell me more about him! I know the bare minimum from you talking about him when you were just friends, and I know last night you told everyone how you got together, but what’s he like? What do you like about him so much?”

“First of all, put that dress in the maybe pile. I know you have one more, but this is a strong contender.” You wait for your sister to disappear back into the dressing room and sit back in your chair. “What do I like about him? Well, he has an amazing sense of humor. He’s one of the funniest people I know, other than Seokjin, who you’ve also virtually met, but Jungkook always knows how to make me laugh no matter what. Last year, in our public speaking course, he made this joke while this girl was presenting, and I laughed so hard we got kicked out of class, but I was still laughing in the hall, so much that I got lightheaded and fainted.” You chuckle at the memory and remember waking up in Jungkook’s arms while he ran for his life to the infirmary with you.

“He’s also extremely supportive. I think it’s because he’s so hardworking and passionate about what he loves himself, which is also admirable. Still, because of that, he’ll back you on anything that he knows you care about. The number of times he’s let me ramble to him about Animal Crossing, even though he doesn’t play, is truly a blessing. He’s also crazy considerate and will literally give his all for people he loves. Oh, and the way he remembers things that I’ve mentioned to him maybe one time a year ago is beyond sweet.

“Also, did you know he can sing? The boy has the voice of a literal angel. Oh! And did I tell you he wrote me a short song for my birthday last year? I sobbed like a fucking baby. He kept saying it wasn’t much because it was only a chorus and a verse, but he’s also weirdly modest for someone who’s so perfect at everything, which he is, and he knows it but he isn’t a cocky asshole about it, you know?”

You didn’t realize you’d gone on a tangent until your sister’s knowing smile is staring straight at you. When had she even come out in a new dress?

“So, what you’re saying is, you're so utterly in love with Jungkook?” She chuckles, admiring herself in the nearest mirror.

“I-fuck, I love him so much.” Your friends know how you feel about Jungkook, but being able to say it all to someone else makes you feel lighter somehow. You let out a long sigh of relief at finally being able to say out loud the reasons you’re in love with your best friend.

“Well, I’m glad you’re in love and that you’re happy. Now, yes or no to the dress?” She gestures to the knee-length, red wrap dress she’s currently wearing, and you flash her a thumbs up, genuinely loving this dress the most. “Perfect! Let me go buy this, then we can get lunch, and you can listen to me complain about my lack of any sort of love life!” Kayla smirks at you before disappearing to change back into her clothes.

Your mind immediately goes back to Jungkook and stays on him through the rest of the day. Even when you’re on the way back home, he’s all that fills your mind. When you see him standing outside next to your brother as he works on his car, handing him tools as they laugh about something, your heart swells even more than you think it can.

Maybe, just maybe, you’d tell him how you feel soon. The brilliant smile he gives you when you get out of the car and walk over to him has you hoping that you’d get a similar one if you ever confess your feelings.

That night is spent similar to the one before. Your family arrives soon after you and your sister get back, and you help your mom cook dinner again. She even has Jungkook help, which he makes no fuss about as he chops and preps what she directs him to.

It’s after dinner, while you’re all crammed in the living room, again barely watching a movie, that the doorbell rings.

“Got it!” your brother calls as he hops up from his spot on the floor. Curious as to who it is, you watch from across the room as he opens the door and breaks into a smile. “Hey, man! Long time no see!” Ray’s outburst has everyone turning to look, and your heart nearly stops beating as Ray tugs your ex-boyfriend into the house.

“Hey, Namjoon is here!” Ray announces as he gives the room a wave. Your mom, sister, and cousin Nikki are up next, rushing over to hug Namjoon, followed by a few of your cousins that know him pretty well too.

Your mom leads Namjoon over to everyone else and introduces him as a refresher. When his eyes land on yours, your skin heats up under his gaze, and you want more than anything to bolt out of the room.

“And this is Y/n’s boyfriend, Jungkook. Jungkook, Namjoon’s family, has been our next-door neighbors since they were both babies. He and Y/n were attached at the hip the entire time they were growing up, and they even dated in high school.” She gives Namjoon a fond look as she continues, this time directing her comments at him and ignoring the way you choke on your drink at her words. “Jungkook and Y/n met while she’s been away at school. He’s Korean too,” your mom supplies as both men study one another. Namjoon makes a move to shake Jungkook’s hand, but the younger man doesn’t reciprocate and simply gives him a half-hearted wave.

There’s a beat of silence from the adults in the room as an uncomfortable aura takes over. Wanting out of the situation, you shoot up from the couch and beeline for the kitchen without another word. Behind you, the conversation slowly picks back up, and you do your best to tune it out.

It’s been nearly four years since you’ve seen Namjoon, and the sight of him has you in a tailspin. The last time the two of you spoke was when he broke up with you over Skype while he was away at college on the West Coast and you were about to graduate high school.

Namjoon always finished at the top of his classes the entire time you’ve known him, so the fact that he graduated early, a year before you, wasn’t surprising. It put a strain on your relationship with him, though, as long-distance wasn’t easy. The two of you had been dating since your freshman year of high school, and he was your first everything. Your first love, your first actual date, and the first person you’d ever slept with. Both his parents and your mom just knew that you’d get married and live happily ever after.

You were under the impression that it would be the case, too, until he threw a wrench in the plans you were building together. You were going to leave the East Coast and move to California to go to a nearby school so that you could be together once more, but all it took was a video call, a few months before your high school graduation, for him to tell you that he’s realized how hard medical school is. He couldn’t balance a relationship on top of it and suggested you not come and just apply to wherever you want to go.

The heartbreak of your first love hurt just as much as most songs say it does. You were a mess after the breakup, shutting yourself off from friends and losing interest in doing anything other than sitting in your room and lamenting over what you and Namjoon were. He, of course, had given you the classic “let’s be friends,” but aside from Instagram and being friends with his parents on Facebook, you more or less stopped talking to and about Kim Namjoon.

If people asked, you told them that you went to school in South Korea because you wanted a change—a fresh start—which was true, but you really wanted to get away and escape to a place where people didn’t know you as Namjoon’s ex-girlfriend, but as your own person.

You’ve grown and healed from your heartbreak and have gotten over it. For the most part, at least, because upon seeing him just now, just as tall, tan, and gorgeous as he’s always been, leaves you feeling a flurry of different things.

“Hey,” Jungkook’s sudden voice from behind you has you nearly jumping out of your skin at the kitchen sink. You’d gotten so lost in your memories that you didn’t realize you were standing motionless for as long as you have been.

“Hey! Sorry, I got distracted.”

“Are you okay? You seem off.” He looks concerned as he studies your face, making you more nervous.

“I’m okay. I’m just tired. I’m going to go shower and go to bed.”

Jungkook nods, “I’ll come with you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do-” Jungkook doesn’t give you a chance to protest as he heads back towards the living room.

“Y/n and I are gonna call it a night,” he calls out to your family. You wave off various shouts of protest, telling everyone you’ll see them tomorrow.

Ignoring the almond-shaped brown eyes that you feel watching your every move, you walk as quickly as your legs will take you up the stairs and into your room. Jungkook follows behind, not saying anything as you grab your pajamas from your suitcase and declare that you’re off to take a shower. You needed to be alone as soon as possible to arrange your frantic thoughts.

Jungkook nods and watches you go, saying he’ll shower after you. As soon as he hears the water running, he digs his phone from his pocket and calls Seokjin.

“Hello?” he answers on the 3rd ring.

“Did you know her ex would be here?”

“Jungkook? What are you talking about?”

“Y/n’s ex-boyfriend is here. He’s a family friend, and they dated all through high school, and now he’s here, and he’ll be at the wedding.”

“Oh wow. Are you worried about him? Like, do you think he’ll try and get back together with her or something?”

“Fuck, I don’t know! He came in, and he said hi to everyone, but he looked straight at her. Even when he said hi to me he was only looking at her.”

“And Y/n? How’d she react?”

Jungkook frowns, recalling how scared you looked when you saw Namjoon. “Bad. She bolted out of the room, and then we came upstairs to get ready for bed.”

“Hmm,” Seokjin hums, “sounds like she isn’t too thrilled to see him. That could be a good sign. If she isn’t looking forward to seeing him, then it doesn’t sound like you have too much to worry about.”

“I guess,” the younger man mumbles, “but I don’t trust him. I can’t let him be alone with her.” Jungkook paces as he talks, doing his best not to yell his frustrations too loudly the more he thinks about Namjoon and the possibility of him trying to win you back.

“Well, if you would just tell her you’re in love with her, then this wouldn’t be an issue, now would it?” Seokjin says, sounding exasperated. To be fair, he has reason to. All of their friends know how in love Jungkook is with you, but being his roommate, Seokjin has had to hear it the most.

“Hyung...”

“Yeah, yeah. She’ll never love you back and all that shit. All I know is that Jimin, Tae, Sana, and I have a bet going on whether or not you two will get together during this trip. Don’t make me lose money. I have a shopping list I need to go through.”

Jungkook sucks his teeth in response. “Alright, I’m hanging up,” Seokjin calls out a goodbye as Jungkook ends the call. He tosses his phone aside and flops onto the bed.

When he agreed to be your fake boyfriend for this trip, he initially didn’t want to, not being confident in himself that he wouldn’t blow his cover, but then he told himself it wouldn’t be so bad.

He was wrong.

Seeing you so comfortable and happy with your family these last two days only makes him ache for you even more. The glow that you have just from talking to your sister or playing with your cousins is one he’s never seen before, and seeing you genuinely happy, quickly becomes his favorite sight. The way your eyes sparkle and the musical laughter that comes out of your mouth only serves to make Jungkook fall harder and faster.

Knowing there’s someone else here that you have a history with makes him more anxious than he’s ever been. Back at school, Jungkook only had to fend off a few guys a handful of times. Most people on campus saw how you and Jungkook were practically inseparable, which tended to ward away potential suitors. This is different. This is someone who hasn’t seen you and Jungkook together, and most likely won’t be intimidated by your relationship. This guy knows you in a different way than Jungkook does—has experienced being with you in a different way than Jungkook.

This fucking sucks. He’s going to have to do a better job of making it clear that you’re together, even if you aren’t together, together.

At some point, he gets lost in his thoughts because he doesn’t even hear you come into the room.

“Jungkook?” He jumps at your voice and sits up so fast that he gets a little dizzy. “You okay?”

As his eyes focus, he watches you toss your clothes from the day into the hamper by your door. His eyes immediately lock onto your notably short sleep shorts, admiring how soft your legs look.

He gulps when you bend over to dig through your suitcase, and the tiniest bit of your asscheeks peek out from said shorts.

“I’m going to go shower now!” He almost yells as he trips over his own feet to leave the room. You watch him go, not thinking much of it since you’ve been wrapped up in your head since you got into the shower.

Once you’re ready for bed, you climb under the sheets before Jungkook and check your phone to see you’ve missed a few text messages from your sister.

Kayla: Hey, you ok? I saw your face when Namjoon walked in

Of course, if anyone is going to notice your reaction, it’s your sister.

Y/n: Idk. I didn’t think I’d just see him suddenly, you know?

She replies almost instantly.

Kayla: I know. I didn’t even know Nikki invited him. He told everyone he initially wasn’t going to be here until tomorrow but he wanted to come earlier to surprise his parents apparently

Y/n: Well I wish he hadn’t come at all. Now my head’s all fucked up

Kayla: Just focus on Jungkook. I know exes can be messy but remember your boyfriend

You let out a cynical laugh and barely even flinch when your phone falls on your face. It would be much easier to remember your boyfriend if you actually had one.

Surprisingly, you fall asleep soon after that text exchange, waking back up when Jungkook gets into bed. You peek an eye open and watch as he ruffles his towel-dried hair and turns off the lamp on the nightstand before lying down. He smells like his favorite soap that he packed for the trip, and your earlier stress melts away as you take in the familiar scent.

Feeling more at ease, you begin to drift off again until the feeling of Jungkook shifting and tossing an arm around your waist has you jolting. His breathing is even, and he makes no other movements or sounds. Did he fall asleep that fast? You know he can fall asleep quicker than anyone in your friend group, but it was barely ten minutes since he laid down.

Whether or not he’s asleep, you decide not to question it. You’d give more than anything to have Jungkook hold you the way he is right now, so you close your eyes and drift off back to sleep, enjoying the weight of his arm on your body.

Waking up with Jungkook’s arms still securely around you is in no way the worst way to be. You stay in this position as long as you can, but eventually, he pulls himself away and drowsily stumbles out of the room. As you’re listening to him shuffle down the hall and into the bathroom, Ray pops his head into the room.

“Hey, morning. You and Jungkook should get ready soon. Mom invited the Kims over for breakfast, and they should be over in an hour or so.” He flashes you a sympathetic look at the groan that comes out. “I know, I’m sorry. I tried to nicely hint that she shouldn’t, but you know how mom gets.”

“Yeah, believe me, I know.” You grumble from under the blanket you pulled over your head.

“Kayla and I will do our best to deflect any awkward questions or topics that come up.”

“Y’all are the best.”

“I know!” your brother calls, already halfway down the hall.

Jungkook comes back from the bathroom soon after, toothbrush in hand. His hair is still ruffled from sleep, and his eyes still look a little droopy. The way your heart races at the sight of him in the morning is all you need to know about your still very relevant crush on him.

When you tell him about the company you’re having over, you see a visible frown etch itself onto his face. He nods but doesn’t say anything and instead moves to his suitcase to get his clothes.

The two of you get ready for the day in silence, though you barely make note as to why Jungkook may be silent, as all you can think about is being so close to Namjoon again and talking to him after literally years.

As fate would have it, you’re the one that has to answer the door for Namjoon and his parents when they show up. With your mom monitoring the hot stove, your brother at the store for more juice, and Kayla in the bathroom, that just leaves you while Jungkook sets the table.

“Y/n! Oh my goodness, look at you!” Namjoon’s mom sweeps you up into her arms first, cooing in your ear about how good it is to see you after so long.

“It’s great to see you too, Mrs. Kim.” You can’t help but smile back at her. Your feelings and romantic history with Namjoon aside, his parents, his mom especially, have always been nothing but sweet and supportive, and you are genuinely happy to see them again.

When she finally lets you go, Mr. Kim pulls you into a much quicker, but still affectionate hug. Namjoon attempts to reach for you next, but you expertly evade his incoming embrace, and once his parents slip their shoes off, you follow them to the kitchen where your mom is calling out a greeting.

You take the empty seat between Jungkook and Kayla, fixing your attention on the food in front of you as everyone takes their seats. Ray and your mom are on either end of the table while the Kims sit across from you. Predictably, Namjoon sits between his parents so that he’s directly in front of you.

As waffles and scrambled eggs are passed around, your mom asks the Kims about their most recent vacation to Malta that they just returned from. During a story about Mrs. Kim and a stray cat outside of their hotel, you feel a socked foot give your calf a tap. Glancing up, your eyes meet Namjoon’s, and he smiles at you, small enough that no one notices, but enough that you see the way his dimples pop into his cheeks.

He gets a frown in response from you, but you do find yourself biting your lip to stop any traces of a smile. He can’t just waltz in here, looking as handsome as he always has, and expect you to just play nice with him. Seeing how your last real conversation was him breaking up with you, you couldn’t just pick up as best friend’s after he broke your heart.

“Y/n?” You look up suddenly and make eye contact with Mrs. Kim, who’s looking at you expectantly.

“I’m sorry?”

“I asked how you and Jungkook met.”

“Oh. I met him through our mutual friend Jimin. Jungkook transferred to our college halfway through his first year and shared a class with Jimin, who I had become friends with pretty much on the first day of school.”

“Aw, how sweet. Did you begin dating right away?” She prods. Everyone else had some form of interest in hearing your story, including Namjoon, who was staring at you, almost unblinking.

“Uh, no. We only started dating three months ago. We were friends until then.”

“How cute! Namjoon’s father and I were friends before we began dating too. Now look at us,” she sighs wistfully, giving her husband a loving look over Namjoon’s head which he returns.

“Well, you know, only about 28% of college students end up marrying their significant other after graduation.” Namjoon shrugs focused on cutting into his pancakes. “Not everyone is so lucky.”

“Oh, stop it, Joon!” His mom chastises with a smack on his arm.

“I’m just being realistic, I mean when you think about it-”

“Hey, mom! Why don’t you tell the Kims about the caterer for the wedding?” Kayla cut in, stopping Namjoon in his tracks and allowing your mom to chime in happily.

You whisper a thank you under your breath to your sister, who nods in return. When your eyes meet Namjoon’s across the table, he’s wearing an unreadable expression and continues to do so for the remainder of the morning.

Throughout breakfast, very few questions about you and your relationship with Jungkook are asked. Any that do come up, Kayla and Ray do their best to ward them off, including any other comments Namjoon could make. You barely remember any of the stories that get swapped due to how preoccupied your thoughts are.

At the end of breakfast, you quickly volunteer to clean up and carry as many plates as your hands can take to the kitchen.

You’re in the middle of rinsing them and loading the dishwasher when Namjoon comes in, startling you.

“Sorry. Came to bring you the rest of the dishes.” You wordlessly take the plates and cups as he hands them to you, trying to do your best and ignore the palpable feeling in the room. Namjoon’s presence unnerves you as you finish and when you turn around after starting the dishwasher, he’s still there leaning against the counter.

“Um, did you need something?” The kitchen feels so much smaller with how close he’s standing to you.

“Y/n, I think we should talk.”

“About what?”

“About the fact that we haven’t spoken to each other in so long.”

You go from nervous to annoyed in no time at his words. “And whose fault is that? You’re the one who dumped me, remember?”

“Yeah, and I shouldn’t have done that, but we agreed we’d stay friends.”

“We did, but it’s kind of hard to do that, when the man you loved rips your heart out, and just the idea of him causes you pain.” You hate the way your voice cracks at the end of your sentence. The last thing you want is to cry in front of him over your past relationship.

“Y/n, I’m truly, really sorry. But you weren’t the only one who was hurt. It wasn’t exactly easy to just end things the way I did.”

“Well, you could’ve fooled me. You dumped me in less than five minutes!” Tears are now brimming in your eyes, and you know he sees it.

“Y/n, please.” He reaches for your arm, and you snatch it away.

“I don’t need you to comfort me.”

“Yeah, your little boyfriend will do that for you, huh?” The attitude in his voice only serves to make you angrier.

“You know what? You have no right to be mad that I’m with someone right now, and I don’t need to stand here and talk to you.” Before you can leave, Namjoon’s hand wraps around your wrist to keep you.

“Wait, I-”

“Y/n?” Jungkook appears in the doorway, eyes locked to Namjoon touching you. “You okay?”

“Yes, but I’m going upstairs to lay down. I’m still tired.” Namjoon doesn’t put up a fight when you yank out of his grasp again and stomp out of the room. You say your goodbyes to the Kims, telling them that you don’t feel well, and they immediately fuss over you, saying they’ll bring you soup later and to get some rest.

After your mom says she’ll bring you some ginger ale soon, you’re ascending the stairs with Jungkook trailing behind, who commented that he’d make sure you lay down and rest.

You barely make it into the room before the tears that you’ve been holding back since you saw Namjoon spill. Jungkook closes the bedroom door and crosses the room instantly to scoop you into his arms.

He stands there holding you, letting you cry on his shirt for as long as you need. The sound of your muffled cries in the fabric of his shirt is all that’s heard. Once you’re only sniffling and wiping your tears with your hands, Jungkook leads you to the bed to sit down with you. He waits until the room is completely silent before he asks anything.

“So, are you going to tell me about him?” You already know that the ‘him’ he’s referring to is Namjoon. You’ve admittedly never told your friends about him because you really just wanted to forget. It was something you hoped you’d never have to bring up if you could help it. In retrospect, this was a foolish thing to think, and that was obvious now.

You let out a loud sigh and finally decide to be honest.

“Like my mom said yesterday, we’ve been friends since we were single-digit aged. We grew up together, and in my freshman year of high school, he asked me out, and I said yes. We dated all through high school until the year that I was graduating. He graduated a year before me because he’s basically a genius and went to Stanford for medical school because he didn’t want to stay on the East Coast.

“The plan was for me to follow him to California and go to school near him, but he decided to break up with me over Skype when I was months away from graduating. He said medical school was hard enough, and he couldn’t handle maintaining a relationship at the same time. He claimed he wanted to do it earlier than when he did, but he couldn’t talk himself into doing it until it was last minute. From there, we just stopped talking all the time except the occasional holiday or birthday text, and then we stopped talking altogether, and I ran away to South Korea, and here we are.”

Jungkook pulls you into another hug halfway through your story because you started to cry again. He hates seeing you like this; sad, defeated, and still so clearly in pain. Listening to you cry is breaking his heart alone, and he wants more than anything to make it go away. He doesn’t know how to help you, but if it starts with holding you as tight as he can, he will.

The rest of the morning and afternoon is spent with you and Jungkook lying in bed, talking more than you have since you’ve been friends. You tell him more about your family and who you were when you grew up in this house. You talk about him and growing up in Busan, and he says how badly he wants to take you to his hometown (which you will be doing during the next break, according to him).

At some point, your mom comes to check on the two of you and tells you dinner is ready, but she lets you eat dinner in your room, sensing you and Jungkook are having time to yourselves. When you go to bed that night, Jungkook lies closer to you and neither of you mind very much.

The day may have started as something you were dreading, but now the only thing you feel is the immense love you have for Jungkook.

Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook feels the same way as he lays behind you, relishing this time with you and pretending that you feel the same as he does.

The rest of the week goes by in a blur after that. While you’re not directly in the wedding party, you love your cousin, so you’re willing to help your mom and aunts prepare for the rehearsal dinner and the wedding itself. You spend the week making phone calls to the photographer and the videographer and making sure the cake will be ready for pick up the morning of. Jungkook stays busy too, helping your brother and a few of your cousins make sure all of the tables and chairs are probably set up in the backyard.

Even though you’re on the trip together, you and Jungkook barely get to socialize as much as you’d like after that day spent in your room, given how quickly the days pass and how busy you find yourselves. Luckily, this also means that you don’t have to see much of Namjoon, but that doesn’t stop him from texting you nearly every day.

At first, he apologized for making you feel uncomfortable at breakfast the other morning. Then he began to ask questions about what you’re doing during the day, if you’ve seen any good movies lately, what your favorite classes are, and asking you to share some songs you’ve been listening to recently. The conversation stays very surface level, and it's clear he’s trying to re-establish some semblance of a relationship, but you’re not sure how you feel about it. Just last week, you had given Namjoon no thoughts, but now you’re thinking about him more than you have in years.

By the time the rehearsal dinner rolls around, you feel both emotionally and physically exhausted and can’t wait for tomorrow, when the wedding will finally be here. You’ll be glad to see your cousin get married to the love of her life, but between your current feelings for Jungkook and your dormant feelings for Namjoon, you feel as though you’ve been through hell and back.

The backyard is set up in anticipation for tomorrow, with a few round tables positioned on either side of the yard and a clear path in between that leads to the large tree in your yard where the ceremony itself would take place.

You’re sitting at the same table as your mom, grandma, siblings, and Jungkook. Namjoon and his parents are at the table directly behind you, close enough that Namjoon simply needs to turn in his chair to talk face-to-face with you. During dinner, conversation among everyone is light, and you even put up with Namjoon asking you questions about school and some of your other friends back in Korea. Admittedly, you’ve had a few glasses of champagne to deal with the emotions swirling in your mind, and they’re catching up with you the more the night goes on.

While various family members offer toasts to your cousin, you’ve had at least three more drinks, and you’re feeling a heavy buzz settle over you. At some point, Namjoon turns his chair all the way around and is reminiscing about your high school days with you. It feels nice to talk to him freely once again and share jokes and stories that only the two of you know. Of course, you do have alcohol swimming through your veins, so you can’t say it’s just because you’re finally able to be completely comfortable with him again.

When your aunt brings out cupcakes for dessert, you’re on what you know should be your last glass of champagne. You’re so wrapped in laughing at everything Namjoon says and letting him occupy your attention, that you don’t even notice the way Jungkook is frowning from next to you.

He himself has been throwing back drink after drink since Namjoon first decided to strike up a conversation with you. He noticed that you started drinking as soon as you all sat down at the table at the start of dinner tonight and lost count of how many he saw you down.

Instead of stopping you as he should’ve, he wallowed in silent self-pity next to you while Namjoon got closer and closer to you and did his damndest to ice Jungkook out of the conversation, even though you attempted to include him when you could.

Jungkook isn’t sure how many drinks he had, but he was sober enough to notate every time Namjoon’s hand brushed against your knee or grazed your exposed shoulders. When Jungkook saw you come out of your bedroom in the form-fitting sundress that hugged your body, he could barely keep his eyes off you, but now, knowing another man other than him was enjoying seeing so much of your shape, it made him want to shield you and hide you away back inside the house.

You, on the other hand, think nothing of the subtle touches from Namjoon. It seems almost natural when his hand rests on your thigh or your hand.

“So,” Namjoon says, loud enough for Jungkook to hear from beside you. “How long have you been with him again?” He jerks his head in Jungkook’s direction, and it takes a few seconds for your mind to catch up.

“Nearly four months?” Your response comes out as more of a question than a definitive answer.

“Yeah,” Jungkook backs you up, listening intently.

“That’s a pretty young relationship. That would explain why you don’t seem very couple-y.”

“What?” Jungkook hisses, sitting up straighter in his chair and ignoring how the bistro lights above him spin.

“I’m just saying, the handful of times I’ve seen you two interact, you don’t hold hands or hug or anything. It’s a little weird.” Namjoon shrugs.

“Maybe we don’t like PDA,” Jungkook supplies through gritted teeth. You nod in agreement.

“Really? That’s funny. When Y/n and I were together, she was all about PDA.” Your former boyfriend sends you a wink that has heat creeping up the back of your neck.

“Joon, we were teenagers.” Your eyes dart to Jungkook, who’s frowning deeper than you think you’ve ever seen him.

“Yeah, but still. You could barely keep your hands off me, not that I’m complaining. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss it.” Your eyes are transfixed on his plush lips as he speaks, and he must know because you watch as his tongue swipes slowly across his bottom lip.

Jungkook scoffs and takes a deep breath before grabbing your shoulders and turns you towards him from beside you.

“Jungkoo—” Your sentence is cut off by Jungkook’s lips smashing against yours.

Your eyes slip shut as you very quickly give into the kiss. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for since you first came to terms with the fact that you were head over heels in love with your best friend.

As if the kiss is written into a cheesy romantic comedy, everyone around you melts away. The voices of your family become dull and nondescript as the lights above your head become fuzzy. You know this isn’t the alcohol making you feel like this; this is what it feels like to kiss the man you’ve been aching for all this time. Your eyes start to mist at some point, but that’s also when he pulls away.

You gasp for breath, eyes still glazed over and fixed on Jungkook. His cheeks are flush, and he’s staring right back at you.

Namjoon lets out a scoff and excuses himself. Jungkook breaks your gaze to watch the older man go, a chuckle leaving his lips.

“Serves him right,” he murmurs.

Logically, you know Jungkook only kissed you the way he did to prove Namjoon wrong. It was to make your fake relationship appear genuine, and it seems to have worked, but all you can think about is his lips.

It’s why you lean forward again, catching him off guard with another kiss, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, his large hands grasp your hips, drawing you closer to him. Your own hands are reaching up, intending to grip his brunette locks, but before you can get there, Kayla’s voice has you snap out of it.

“Ay, y’all are drunk, which I get, but take this upstairs, please. There are children, you know!” Sheepishly, you meet her eyes, along with the looks from a few other family members at neighboring tables.

“Sorry,” you and Jungkook say together, turning back to the table, both of you down the glasses of water next to your empty dessert plates.

Your visiting family members only stay for an hour or so longer, calling it an early night to get as well-rested as they can for the big morning. You and Jungkook offer to help clean up, but your mom makes your brother and sister take you both upstairs, declaring you both too drunk to be useful.

“We helped you upstairs, but we’re not helping with anything else. Figure it out yourselves.” Kayla says as she dumps you onto your bed. She and Ray both leave you bottles of water before leaving you alone. You and Jungkook are lying next to each other, still fully clothed with only the lamp on your side of the bed turned on.

You’re not as drunk as you were earlier, thanks to the copious amount of water you drank throughout the remainder of the night, but you’re still tingly and can feel a headache trying to creep in. As much as you’d like to get up and change into your pajamas, the desire to lay here and dream about Jungkook’s lips on yours is much stronger.

“Can I tell you something?” Jungkook speaks, making you jump at the sound of his voice.

“Huh? Yeah.”

He doesn’t answer immediately. A few seconds of silence go by before he speaks.

“I liked kissing you.”

“What?” You sit up too fast and instantly regret it, but you’re more focused on wrapping your mind around what you just heard.

“Sorry, was that weird? Did I just make this weird?” Jungkook jolts up too, visibly trying to steady himself.

“No! I, uh, I liked kissing you too.” His espresso-colored eyes crinkle in the corners when he gives you a genuine smile that has his front teeth poking out. The smile is gone as quickly as it appears, his face scrunching in concentration as he zeroes in on your lips.

He’s moving slow, but you know he’s coming towards you, his lips approaching yours again, and you make no move to stop him.

This time the kiss starts fast as he pulls your body close to his. Making up for the missed chance you didn’t get outside, you finally get a good handful of his hair between your fingers, and he groans in response. The gruff sound is felt in the pit of your stomach, shooting straight from there to your core.

You may not be sober, but there is still a voice in the back of your mind screaming at you, telling you that you’re kissing your best friend. Your best friend is running his warm hands over your shoulders and down to the front of your dress. Your best friend’s fingers are scrunching the fabric of your dress until it’s pulled high enough to expose the skin of your thighs.

“J-Jungkook,” you manage to say as his lips move to your neck. Your thoughts waver slightly at the sensation, nearly forgetting what you want to say.

“Hmm?” he questions, teeth now nibbling on the spot he was kissing.

“You’re drunk. Are you—do you know what you’re doing?”

“Of course I do. I want you so bad.” Jungkook pulls back, meeting your eyes. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Yes,” you breathe out.

“Good.” Jungkook helps you stand then, pulling your dress up and completely off of your body, tossing the fabric to the side of the room. His nimble fingers reach around you to unhook your bra, and that’s next to fall aside. You had forgone panties tonight, thinking nothing of it with the dress being so long, so you get to watch as his pupils dilate as they take in your completely naked body.

Feeling self-conscious under his scrutiny, you move you cover yourself, but he reaches out to stop you.

“Don’t hide from me.”

You answer him by leaning forward and kissing him, catching him off guard, and he trips, falling backward onto the bed. This new position doesn’t stop you from crashing your mouths together, savoring the taste of him again. His hands find your breasts, cupping them roughly and pulling on your nipples, which has you dry humping his muscular thighs.

Jungkook doesn’t stay on his back for long and quickly flips you over, his frame hovering over you. Your eyes follow his every move as he unbuttons his shirt, devouring the sight of him. His smooth skin, his built torso, and his tattoos that creep up his arm to his shoulder all have you clenching your thighs.

“Like what you see?” he teases, hands playing with his belt buckle.

“Jungkook, please take the rest of your clothes off.” Jungkook hesitates at your begging tone, only for a second, but recovers soon after and does as you ask. He leaves your body long enough to pull his slacks and boxers down, and you let out an actual whimper at how breathtaking he looks completely bare. His hard cock stands proud, just waiting to fill you up.

“Shh,” he motions behind him to your bedroom door as he repositions himself lower, on his belly between your thighs. “Your family’s outside. You have to be quiet.”

“Sorry, I-oh shit,” Jungkook is only between your thighs for what feels like a millisecond before his wonderful lips latch onto your clit, sucking hard enough to have your back bowing off of the bed.

You’re plenty wet enough for him to slide a finger into you, pumping it in time with his mouth as it moves against you. Your fingers tangle in his hair again as you hold him in place, bucking your hips up softly into his mouth. Soft slurping sounds fill the room as Jungkook eats you out better than anyone ever has. Not that you’ve had too many other partners, but the urgency as to which he moves and the skilled way his second finger slips in and crooks at just the right angle automatically put him at the top of the list.

Jungkook’s fingers move at a faster pace as he works you open, your breath coming out in frantic exhales as you get embarrassingly closer to an orgasm. Both hands find his head, fingers combing through the strands before gripping tight. Jungkook lets out a moan against you, the sound sending tremors through your body, and that’s all you need before you begin to unravel.

“Jungkook, I’m cumming, I’m cumming,” you pant out. The hand that isn’t knuckles deep in you comes up to cover your mouth just in time for you to let out a high-pitched moan. Your body shakes as you cum, squeezing your thighs around Jungkook’s head, and he stays exactly where he is.

You’re still shaking when he pulls his face away and obscenely licks his lips in front of you.

“That was—I mean—you—oh my fuck.” you babble out, mind still reeling from the feeling of his lips.

“If you thought that was good, I’ve got something else for you.” Jungkook motions to his cock, hard and red, and you open your legs impossibly wider. He scooches himself up, lining up with your wet lips. “Oh, I don’t have a condom if you—”

“Fuck a condom, I need you in me now, Jungkook.” His eyes widen momentarily at the commanding tone in your voice, but he doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he enters you in one slow motion, the two of you moaning in unison once he’s buried to the hilt.

“Holy shit, Y/n. You feel so fucking good.” He closes his eyes, taking a few deep breaths at the sensation of you. He knew you’d feel amazing if the day ever came to be with you like this, but he didn’t expect to be so eager to burst at the first feeling of your silken walls around him.

“Please move. Please,” you beg. Jungkook counts to three in his head before beginning to rock his hips; the shallow motion alone has you panting. “Faster.” you plead through gritted teeth as you attempt to move your hips quicker.

As much as he doesn’t want to cum quickly, your desperation spurs him on, firmly grasping your hips and sitting up for better leverage. His eyes drink in the sight of you with your flushed, damp skin and needy pout. Your bottom lip is between your lips, and your hands desperately grab for any part of him that you can reach. This alone is all Jungkook needs to start thrusting into you faster; quick nut be damned.

You do your best not to make too much noise, but the way that Jungkook’s cock is stretching you out makes it difficult. You’re aware of how the bed begins to shake with the force of his thrusts, but you don’t care. He leans down while his hips are working to attach his lips to your neck, nibbling and biting at the skin which has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“So good, so good,” Jungkook chants into your moist skin, hands clutching your soft thighs.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” you whine. Your hands move up to clutch his shoulders, your nails digging into the thick skin there, but he doesn’t feel it. All Jungkook feels is you, and all Jungkook thinks about is you.

“Y/n, I’m going to cum. I can’t hold it.” He’s panting as his thrusts become frantic, his hand fumbling to find your clit between your sweaty bodies.

The way in which you squeal lets him know he’s found the hard bud as he begins rubbing in rough circles. Your breathing becomes more erratic as you feel tears prick the back of your eyes at the pleasure.

“M-me too. I’m cumming. Jungkook!” Your body shakes violently as your second orgasm hits you and your mouth opens in a silent scream. Your cunt squeezing him impossibly tighter is what causes Jungkook to unravel as he cums right after you, his hot seed filling you, quickly dripping out around him.

The only sound in the room for a few seconds is of the two of you breathing heavily. Jungkook’s cock begins to soften, so he slowly pulls out, both of you hissing at the sensation. Your thighs are sticky with cum, and the rest of your body is covered in sweat, but be it the alcohol or the post-orgasm bliss, you don’t care at all. You feel better than you have this entire trip, and when you glance over at Jungkook, he’s on his back, a goofy smile on his face.

“Wow,” you say to him, and he looks over to meet your eyes.

“Yeah. Wow,” he breathes, echoing your sentiments.

You giggle, which is quickly followed by a yawn, the alcohol still swirling in your veins and making you feel both giddy and spent. Seeing your exhaustion, Jungkook reaches over the side of the bed and hands you his button-up shirt to clean up with.

You wipe yourself with as much energy as you can muster before flopping onto your side, facing Jungkook. He turns as well, the two of you facing each other with drunken smiles. Just as your eyes close, you feel Jungkook’s lips place a quick kiss on the tip of your nose, and that familiar tug on your heart that he causes is back and is all you think about as you fall asleep, Jungkook following immediately after.

“Hello! Get your asses up, lovebirds!” Kayla’s voice jolts you out of your sleep. When you sit up, feeling groggy from the night before, you see your sister’s head poking in your bedroom.

“What?” You reach for your phone on the side table to glance at the time. “Oh fuck!” The wedding starts in three hours, and you’re not ready in the slightest.

“Yep. You’re lucky Nikki and Diana are late too! Their car got a flat, so they’re waiting on AAA. Get moving!” When she leaves the room, Jungkook stirs next to you. When he moves to stretch his arms above his head, the quilt covering him shifts down, and the sight of his bare chest reminds you very quickly of the night before.

You fucked Jungkook.

You and your best friend that you are in love with got drunk and had sex.

“What time is it?” Jungkook grumbles, fingers ruffling his messy hair. You’re reminded of just how soft the strands felt in your hand as he ate you out.

“We’re late. We need to get ready now.” You say in a rush as you climb out of bed. The cool air of your bedroom serves as a reminder that you’re completely naked. You catch Jungkook’s eyes as he turns towards you and watch how the brown orbs widen as he scans your body in the daylight.

Grabbing your pillow, you cover yourself and shuffle backward to your suitcase. “I’m going to go shower in my mom’s room. You can take the main shower.” Jungkook clamors out of bed with his pillow covering his crotch.

“Y-yeah, okay.” When he’s turned to his suitcase, you do the same, pillow now covering your ass while you search for your robe. Once it’s on and cinched tight, you grab your underwear and dart out of the bedroom without another word.

Your mom is in her room when you enter, coming out of her closet with the dress she’ll be wearing.

“Hey, morning, baby. You’re late!”

“I know. I’m showering in your bathroom.”

Your mom hums in response but thankfully doesn’t try to continue a conversation as she continues getting ready. You already know the rest of the day will be difficult, as you keep replaying last night with Jungkook. Still, you do your best to remind yourself that today is about your cousin and her special day and not your drunken decisions that could very well lead to the destruction of your friendship.

Luckily, once you’re out of the shower, your sister barges in to start on your hair and makeup together which helps distract you. It’s easy for you to take your mind off last night between her and your other cousins, who arrive shortly after, followed by Nikki and Diana.

On the other side of the house, Jungkook is in a similar situation. He spends his entire shower cursing himself for not being able to keep it in his pants last night. He was drunk, but he still knew what was going on. He knew he was having sex with you and what this could mean for the two of you, but he did it anyway. His biggest fear that he’d somehow fuck up your friendship due to his feelings for you was coming true as far as he’s concerned.

He was thankful that your brother had come to find him when he was out of the shower and dressed to help make sure everything in the backyard is up to par for the wedding. He busies himself, helping to rearrange tables and placing decorations where they should be.

In between saying hello to the rest of your family as they pile into the house and finishing getting ready, he sends a text to the group chat of Seokjin, Taehyung, and Jimin.

Jungkook: In case anyone is wondering, I’m a fucking dumbass

Jimin: Silly Jungkookie, we knew that already

Seokjin: *pretends to be surprised*

Taehyung: What’d you do this time

Jungkook: Y/n and I had sex last night

Jimin: WHAT

Seokjin: WHAT

Taehyung: WHAT

Jungkook: I don’t have a lot of time but long story short we got drunk and fucked last night

Jimin: Wow

Seokjin: You bastards owe me ₩22000!

Taehyung: No! You said you bet they’d get together by the end of the trip. It’s not the end

Seokjin: End of the trip, almost the end, same shit. PAY ME

Jungkook: We’re not together

Jimin: WHAT

Seokjin: WHAT

Taehyung: WHAT

Jungkook: We fucked, fell asleep, now we’re getting ready for the wedding. We didn’t talk about it all. She covered herself and ran out to get ready. I screwed up

Taehyung: Why do you think that? Maybe she was just nervous

Jimin: Yeah I mean it’s a lot you know. Like surprise I fucked my best friend

Jungkook: Idk like I said we were both drunk and horny so it just happened. She’s probably scared that I thought it was something other than a hookup

Seokjin: C’mon JK, do you really think Y/n is like that?

Jungkook: Hyung idk ok. It wasn’t a great post-hookup reaction

Taehyung: Talk to her after the wedding. You can’t just leave it

Jungkook: We’ll see

Jimin: Jungkook! Talk to her!

Jungkook: Gotta go. Everyone is about to go take their seats

Seokjin: Jungkook come on

“Hey.” The sound of your voice on the other side of your bedroom door has Jungkook quickly tucking his phone away. You step into the room when he calls back a hey in response, and Jungkook feels himself sputter. He had seen the dress you’d be wearing before you left school, but seeing it on you is entirely different.

The strapless light pink dress hugs your form better than anything Jungkook has ever seen on you. The fabric looks as soft as he knows your skin is and stops a few inches above your knees, giving him a fantastic view of your legs. Your hair is styled, your makeup is done, and Jungkook wants nothing more than to close the gap between the two of you and take you into his arms. The clear gloss you wear has your lips shining under the lights of your bedroom, and he aches to kiss you again, if even only for a few seconds.

“Ready to head downstairs? They’re starting the ceremony soon.” He nods dumbly back at you and follows you down to the backyard. The two of you greet family members you hadn’t seen earlier on the way and take your spot at the table you were seated at last night.

Jungkook’s eyes narrow in Namjoon’s direction, and he receives a smirk in response from the older man. Jungkook wants to smack it right off of his face. He can’t wait for this day to be over so he can potentially never see Kim Namjoon again if he can help it.

You have similar thoughts as you greet Namjoon and his parents, him giving you a soft smile in return. You make a mental note to have a proper conversation with Namjoon before your trip is over. You need to talk about everything that’s happened this week and decide what’s next for the two of you if anything at all. But for now, you push that away as the signaling of the start of the ceremony begins to play.

Everyone watches as your cousin’s two sisters and three brothers in her wedding party make the short trip from the backdoor to the large tree in your backyard. Diana’s wedding party follows after them, and they all join your uncle, who is ordained and will be conducting the marriage.

When the music switches to “Here Comes the Bride,” all eyes are on your cousin as her step-dad walks her down the aisle, followed by Diana and her dad. Your eyes mist over as you watch your cousin, whom you grew up with as if she was your sister, take her spot in front of her wife-to-be as your uncle begins his speech.

You’re not one to cry at romance and weddings, but something about seeing someone so important to you making such a huge life decision has your already fragile emotions even more sensitive. You wipe away a few tears with your napkin and feel Jungkook’s hand slowly tuck into yours, giving you a squeeze. It catches you off guard, and when you glance over at him, his cheeks have a dark red blush dusting his skin. You squeeze his hand in response and a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

The reception starts with everyone sharing hugs and tears, then transitions into the party part as the hired bartender begins mixing drinks. The catering team your family hired begins bringing out food, and the DJ (who is another cousin) starts playing a surprisingly well-put-together playlist.

Intending not to have another incident like last night, you only nurse two drinks and spend most of the afternoon dancing with your sister. Even though it’s evident to you that you and Jungkook still have something uncomfortable hanging between the two of you, your family is none the wiser, and your sister makes him dance with all of you anyway.

You end up enjoying your time and all thoughts of the night before, and your general drama is forgotten until you’re going back outside from a quick bathroom break.

Namjoon is in the kitchen leaning against the fridge by the backdoor, and stops you with a hand on your arm before both feet can step outside.

“Hey, Y/n, can I talk to you?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” You hesitate only for a second, eyes glancing outside. Everyone else is preoccupied, so no one pays attention to you backing up into the house.

“Look, I’m not going to beat around the bush. I miss you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I miss talking to you. This week has shown me just how much we’ve grown apart and how awkward it is with us right now, and I hate it. I want us to be friends again.”

“I guess you should’ve thought about that before you dumped me over Skype, then stopped texting me.” You hadn’t thought before you blurted it out, but it feels good to say it.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have ended things the way that I did. That was shitty of me. And I truly didn’t mean to stop talking to you. School just took over and occupied all my time, and by the time I had room to breathe, it just felt like it was too late to reach out.”

“You didn’t even try, though, Namjoon! All I got at first was obligatory holiday texts, then even that stopped. And yeah, I know, phones work both ways, but for fuck sake, I flew to the other side of the planet to start over and not think about how you literally ripped my heart out. I wasn't really feeling up to just giving you a casual call.” You do your best not to raise your voice, but your emotions are working to quickly get the better of you.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, and I can’t even begin to describe how shitty I felt when I did it; how shitty I still feel! Breaking up with you was one of the worst decisions I’ve ever made in my life. I missed hearing your voice and seeing your face, even over a video. I missed sending you dumb memes and getting good morning and goodnight texts from you. I missed knowing that when I came home, you’d be here to see me.” Namjoon moves closer to you, taking your hands in his. “Please forgive me. I want to get to know you again. I know the romance ship has sailed, and that’s not an option anymore, but can we rebuild our friendship?”

His words are promising and sweet and make you feel warm inside. The idea of having your best friend back nearly makes you sob in relief. You can’t lie and say that underneath the hurt that you don’t miss Namjoon too. You grew up together, and he was your first everything. Those feelings don’t just go away.

“Namjoon-”

“Please? Do you want me to beg? I’ll get down on my knees and beg you, but Y/n, you’re one of the most important people in my life. I can’t let you go back across the world and think I’ve lost you for a second time.”

You sigh, gripping Namjoon’s hands. “Listen, I’m not about to tell you we’ll be best friends again who stay up on FaceTime all night or text all day every day, but we can work on it.” Namjoon smiles at you, relief visibly washing over him. You feel a weight of your own lift off your shoulders. Things won’t be the same as they were, and your friendship will need a lot of work and time, but you have to start somewhere, right?

“Thank you, thank you, thank you. Y/n, you have no idea how-” Namjoon’s sentence is cut off when Jungkook bursts into the kitchen and grabs him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him away from you.

“Leave her the fuck alone!” Jungkook pulls Namjoon outside and shoves him, the older man nearly tripping backward. “I’m sick of watching you hit on Y/n all goddamn week! You’ve been bothering her since you showed up, and it pisses me off!”

Everyone at the wedding stops what they’re doing at this point. The backyard is only so big, so it’s not hard to miss the commotion.

“Jungkook, you don’t need to—” You attempt to diffuse the situation, but Jungkook shakes you off.

“No, Y/n, I’ve tried not to say anything and to be as nice to him as I can since your family is here, but I’m done letting him hit on you when I’m standing right fucking here!” Red in the face and scowling intensely, Jungkook approaches Namjoon, the older man standing up tall to face him.

“Nice?” Namjoon scoffs. “You’ve been shooting daggers at me since I walked through the front door. It’s pretty obvious you don’t like me.”

“Because I don’t! I’m not going to tell you again, leave Y/n alone.” Your entire family is watching the heated exchange now. Your brother and a few of your male cousins step forward, poised to intervene.

“Sounds like you’re feeling insecure, little boy.” You watch Jungkook’s fists clench at Namjoon’s taunting words.

“Joon, please don’t provoke him,” you beg.

Namjoon throws his hands up, shoulders shrugging.

“Hey, I’m just saying. If your little college fling can’t handle you talking to other men, maybe there’s something wrong with him.” Eyes going back to Jungkook, Namjoon lets out a laugh. “If you’re not careful, someone may just come along and steal her from you, little boy.” Namjoon pokes Jungkook in the chest, and it’s almost in slow motion that you watch Jungkook draw his arm back to punch Namjoon directly in the cheek.

The older man stumbles, falling on his ass onto the concrete of the back patio. A beat of silence goes by as no one moves, until all at once, you’re launching yourself forward to grab Jungkook, and your brother and a cousin are rushing over to help Namjoon up.

“Jungkook, let’s go!” You pull him away from the scene, Jungkook staring Namjoon down angrily as Namjoon’s mom rushes over to him. Once you’re both in the living room, away from the rest of the wedding, you shove him onto the couch and glare down at him. “Are you serious right now?! I can’t believe you just did that!”

“He deserved it! He’s been up your ass since he showed up!” Jungkook argues, adrenaline still coursing through him.

“That was so inappropriate! This is my cousin’s wedding, Jungkook!”

“So then he should keep his fucking hands off of you!”

“He wasn’t doing anything today! We were just talking when you barged in like a lunatic!”

“He can talk to you without holding your hand and getting all in your face!”

“It’s not that big of a deal, Jungkook! Fuck, why do you even care!?”

“Because I love you, Y/n!” Jungkook screams, jumping up from the couch.

“What?” You freeze.

“You heard me!” Jungkook runs his fingers through his hair, tugging on the strands in frustration. Now that the rush of the moment has subsided, embarrassment and guilt at what he did make him feel tired. “It’s so exhausting trying to hide it. This trip has been so fucking hard. I have to walk around and kiss you and hold your hand and sleep in the same bed as you, and none of it is real! It sucks, and I feel like shit, and then to have to see some prick who blew his chances with you just show up and be all over you makes me so crazy. I’m sorry to you and your family that I punched him, but I’m not sorry to him.”

“So you’re in love with me.” You blink at him, your mind catching up to process his words.

“That’s literally what I just said.”

“And you were in love with me last night when we had sex?”

“Duh.”

“It wasn’t just the alcohol that made you horny?”

“Hell no. I’d do any and everything to you whether I was sober, drunk, high, tripping on shrooms or otherwise… also that sounded more romantic in my head.” he winces.

“Wow. And so you know I’m in love with you too, right?”

“Come on, you don’t have to just say shit to me to make me feel better.”

“Jungkook, I’m serious. I’ve loved you since what feels like the day we met, and this whole trip has been hell for me too. I spent all day today thinking yesterday meant nothing to you.”

Your best friend steps forward, his hands moving to cradle your face. “Yesterday meant everything to me, and you have no clue how relieved I am right now that you felt the same.” The two of you share a chuckle, any lingering tension now gone.

“So basically, what you’re saying is we aren’t just a ‘fake dating’ au, but we’re also an ‘idiots to lovers’ au. Got it.”

You let out a loud laugh at his words, smiling. Jungkook moves in to kiss you once your laughter subsides, catching you off guard, but you quickly kiss him back, the feeling of his lips on yours washing over you. Your body buzzes the same way it did the night before, and you momentarily forget where you are. You let Jungkook wrap his arms around you and deepen the kiss, the sound of a throat clearing behind you cutting through the atmosphere and stopping anything else from happening.

Kayla is leaning against the doorway, arms folded and a smirk on her face. “So, I won’t tell mom or anyone else that you’ve both been lying to us if you come back outside now. Nikki wants to do the bouquet toss, and Namjoon’s mom wants an apology.”

Jungkook winces from next to you, face flushing at the thought of someone’s mom being mad at him. You take his hand and lead him behind you as you follow Kayla outside. You decide to address the fact that she heard you and Jungkook confess to one another later, and focus on the wedding instead.

Back outside, everyone has gone back to doing their own thing, but you feel them all slyly watching you and Jungkook as you make your way over to Namjoon, who’s sitting next to his mom, holding an ice pack on his cheek. Namjoon catches your eye and waves his mom away before getting up and meeting the two of you halfway.

“So,” Namjoon starts, “to not prolong this and make this any more awkward than it is, Jungkook, I’m sorry for what I said. I was just being petty and wanted to piss you off. I’m not going to steal Y/n from you. I truly just want to rebuild my friendship with her.” He offers Jungkook a slight bow, and surprisingly, Jungkook gives one in return.

“I uh, I’m sorry too. I’m sorry I hit you. I overreacted, and it was childish.”

Namjoon shrugs and waves his hand dismissively. “It’s okay. Like I said, I was purposely petty. And besides, I was pretty impressed with the force behind that punch. It knocked me on my ass.” He chuckles, and Jungkook does the same.

It only takes this single exchange to have the tension between both men broken. Both Jungkook and Namjoon go back to their seats while you gather with the rest of the women for the bouquet toss. Glancing over at them, you see them chatting idly. Jungkook of thirty minutes ago would never.

“Okay, everyone ready?!” Nikki calls, bringing your attention back to why you’re gathered behind her and Diana. After counting to three, they toss their matching bouquet of roses over their shoulders. You watch the flowers soar through the sky momentarily as one lands in the hands of one of your aunts. You barely try, but by some bizarre stroke of luck, the second plops right in your barely outstretched hands.

Voices whistling and cheering from around you, flustered, you speed walk to the table where Jungkook is also getting teased by your family sitting with him. He gives you a sheepish smile but still doesn’t hesitate to take your hand.

The remainder of the wedding continues without any further incident, which you’re thankful for. Jungkook seems much more at ease when holding your hand or giving you the occasional kiss on your cheek or forehead. Kayla spends the rest of the night shooting you knowing glances whenever you look her way, and you already know you won’t be leaving home without giving her all the details.

That doesn’t happen tonight, though. After the wedding is over, and after you say your goodbyes to your family members, Jungkook fucks you better than he did the night before. This time, you can feel how different it is now that you’ve admitted your feelings for one another. Each thrust of his hips is punctuated with a soft ‘I love you,’ and this time, when you feel tears prick your eyes, it’s because you know the man you’ve loved feels the same.

With the next day being your last full day at home, you spend it just you, Jungkook, your mom, and your siblings. The past week has been busier than anticipated with everything that went on, so you’re thankful for a final calm day to simply enjoy the ease of being home.

You admit to Kayla, Ray, and your mom the truth about you and Jungkook, and their only response is to laugh at you. It’s not as though you thought they’d shame you or make you feel bad, but you didn’t expect them to tease you.

“Oh, baby, I’m sorry that you thought we’d pressure you to get married.” Your mom snickers, having finally calmed down from the initial laugh attack.

“You and aunties do it every time I talk to you! And with Nikki’s wedding, I just knew you’d be all over me.”

“Well, I’m sorry that we make you stress out about that. Look on the bright side; now we won’t ask you when you’ll settle down with someone. We’ll only ask when you and Jungkook are settling down.” She gives you both what you assume is her attempt at a reassuring smile, but it only makes you and Jungkook share a nervous look at the possibility of this upcoming interrogation.

The rest of the day is spent watching movies together, and your heart swells at the love that you feel being surrounded by your closest immediate family and your best friend turned boyfriend. As the day wears on, a few of your other family members stop by to say their goodbyes to you and Jungkook before you're off tomorrow morning. Everyone makes it clear to Jungkook that he’s welcome with you anytime and that he’s basically part of the family now. This only serves to have you even more emotional for the rest of the day.

That night, on your last night sleeping in your bed at home, you tear up while you and Jungkook cuddle together watching TikToks on his phone. He notices your sniffles and hurries to wrap you in his embrace, asking what’s wrong.

“S-sorry, I just- I’m really happy right now. I got to see my family, got to see one of my favorite cousins get married, and on top of that, I got you. I never thought I’d get to be with you like this.” You bury your face in his chest, feeling shy.

Jungkook lightly grabs your chin, bringing your face up to meet his. “Hey, I want you to know how happy I am right now too. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up from a dream any minute now and realize that I’m not actually holding you.” Jungkook’s words make the butterflies in your stomach flutter and your skin flush. He leans down to kiss you before you can hide again, his lips causing you to melt on the spot.

“I love you, Y/n.” he whispers against you when he pulls away for air. You smile back at him so hard your cheeks start to hurt.

“I love you too, Jungkook. So much.” You kiss him again as you feel your happy tears threaten to fall.

“You need to text me when you land.”

“I will.”

“And let me know when you’re on your way back to school.”

“Yes, mom.”

“And let me know when you get to school—”

“Mom! You know I’ll let you know.”

Your mom laughs at your interruption, then her face falls into a frown.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just going to miss you.” Tightening her grip on your shoulders, she pulls you into yet another hug. She and your siblings had driven you and Jungkook back to the airport, and she’s been holding you in a hug for the past five minutes.

“I know. I’ll miss you all too, but I promise I’ll come back soon.” She gives you a final squeeze before letting you go, allowing you to hug your brother and sister. They both say their goodbyes, making you promise to be back soon. Jungkook gets his own hugs from your family, all of them telling him to come back with you.

Your family watches you go as you finally head away through security to your plane.

When you and Jungkook are finally seated on the plane, ready for take-off, Jungkook checks his phone to text the group chat he has with the guys to let them know you’ll be home soon.

Taehyung: Can’t wait for you guys to get back! I’m bringing a bunch of food from my grandmother. You guys will love it.

Seokjin: More importantly, bring me my money! I won the bet for Y/n and Jungkook to hook up so bring me my wins

Jimin: Yeah, me too! I’ll even accept a digital transfer to my account please

Jungkook: Y’all know I can literally see this chat right

Taehyung: Oh chill out you already knew about the bet. And anyway what if Jungkook lied about them getting together? Like what if he just wants us to think he finally confessed when he didn’t because he doesn’t want us to clown him

Jimin: Hmmmmmm. Jungkook is it true???????

Seokjin: Ugh Tae makes sense he’s probably lying

Seokjin: YOU owe me then JK!

“Bunch of losers,” you grumble from next to Jungkook as you catch sight of the messages. “Here, give me your phone.” You give Jungkook a smirk, and he does as you say. You pull him closer to you and open the front-facing camera on his phone. “Kiss me.”

He doesn’t hesitate to bring his mouth to yours, and you give him the sloppiest kiss you can muster. It’s all open mouth and tongue, and you snap a picture of it. You pull away quickly, leaving Jungkook in a daze as he watches you send the picture to the group chat and turn his phone off once it successfully delivers.

“We’re about to take off. Phone off for safety,” you smile, sending him a wink. Your own phone begins to buzz over and over before you cut yours off as well.

“They’re going to be so pissed at us when we get back to school.” You laugh at the thought, already hearing Jin’s boisterous voice screaming about the picture and Sana grilling you for details.

You decide to worry about that later and instead loop your arm through Jungkook’s on the armrest. He immediately makes space for you and kisses your forehead, the heat from his lips spreading throughout your entire body. Your eyes close as you relish in the feeling of Jungkook and focus on being with him and only him for the next sixteen hours.

Jungkook’s earlier words were right; the two of you are an ‘idiots to lovers’ au through and through, but you don’t mind. Having Jungkook love you back is the only happy ending you need.

848 notes · View notes

captainsy-cookiemonster · 4 years

Text

Don’t Like It When You Touch My Stuff

(Gif not mine, found on Pinterest. If it’s yours, please tell me so I can give you credit)

Anon requested: Instead of knife play with Geralt... sword play. Him tying u up against the bedpost and standing away from u and intimidating/teasing u with only the tip of his sword while he’s jerking off. Original drabble here.

Thank you lovely 🗡️anon for that request❤️

And thank you sooo much to my amazing beta @fearlessindigo💕. You’ve been an incredible help in this writing process, and I cannot even express how grateful I am for your support!!! And thank you Lin (@iloveyouyen) for giving me advice when I was stuck💖!! Love you two❤️! Couldn't have done it without you💗💗💗

Summary: Being married to a Witcher isn’t easy; not when he leaves for months on end and is only able to spend little time with you. You make it work, the little time you have you rarely leave each other’s side. And you have only one rule, a very important one at that: you CANNOT touch his stuff, for your own safety. How hard will he punish you when you break that rule?

Pairing: Geralt x 1st person reader

Warnings: +18 minors dni, SMUT, slightly dark and then suddenly very very fluffy, primal behaviour, primal chase, dom/sub, MaleDom/FemSub, punishment, knife/ sword play, male masturbation, teasing, size!kink, light bondage, manhandling, marking, little bit of biting, multiple orgasms (male), good ol’ love making, talking about cum, creampie

If you’re uncomfortable with any of this, do not read!

A/N: Sorry that it took me so long to finish this. Also, Geralt is secretly a big softie, you can’t convince me otherwise

Word count: 6.6k

Title: Don’t Like It When You Touch My Stuff

Likes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated 💕

Taglist: @littlefreya @iloveyouyen @thatdem0n @cherry-acid @mary-ann84 @princess-of-riviaa @kandomeresbitch

💖Enjoy 💖

With shaking fingers, I wrap my hand around the sword’s handle, carefully lifting it, my other hand immediately shooting up to support the heavy weight between my fingers. Feeling brave, I swing the blade through the air a few times, mimicking those fight moves I had watched my lover do so many times.

“You know I don’t like it when you touch my stuff,” a deep voice rumbles from behind me, calm and collected but with a cutting edge to it as sharp as the blade in my hand. Startled, I drop the sword, cringing when it hits the ground with loud clatter. I turn, wide-eyed and shaking. We only have one rule: I’m not allowed to touch his things; not his potions, not his weapons.

“I-I’m sorry, love,” I stammer, staring at the large Witcher, “It was la- it was laying on the- the table and… and dinner’s ready.”

My explanation is answered with a shaking of his head. “You don’t touch my stuff,” Geralt states firmly, stalking past me to pick up the heavy blade, “Never. Whether it’s in the way or not!”

I shrink into myself as he bellows at me. I know he’s only concerned about my safety; his weapons are sharp and dangerous, and his potions are poison for anyone other than a Witcher, but still I can’t stop the fear that creeps up in my throat, making me stumble back towards the open door.

“You stay away from my stuff. It could kill you!” he keeps yelling, anger and concern mingling in his amber eyes, flames dancing to a dangerous tune of two racing hearts.

Never before has he yelled at me like that and still I keep slowly stumbling towards the door, away from my terrifying husband.

“Don’t,” he hisses when the tips of my fingers brush against the doorframe, my heels feeling the edge of the doorstep.

Panic guiding my body’s movements, I whip around and start running off into the night. My heart is beating in my throat, the only thing I can hear as I run into the dark forest is my rapid breath – not the Witcher’s yell of my name, not Roach’s confused huff, not our dog’s upset barking.

I weave through the trees I know by heart. Claw-like branches try to grab me with every fast step I take, as if they obey their master, who’s after me. In the dark, the forest I love so much is terrifying, just like the Witcher. I’m nothing but a scared little deer right now, and he is nothing but a hungry, angry wolf. Usually, that is a game we’re playing, but this right now… this is as serious as it could get.

It doesn’t take long before my lungs start to burn and my legs begin to feel weak, despite the adrenaline pumping through my veins. My foot gets stuck under a crooked root and with a yelp, I fall. I hear his footsteps close to me, but I can’t see him. I scramble back to my feet, taking a few rushed steps backwards, eyes darting from tree to tree, trying to spot my relentless pursuer. I find nothing; I only hear his steps and low growls. I want to take off again, when two large hands grab my waist and yank me back against a hard chest. A scream escapes me before I can stop it, tears starting to flow down my cheeks, thrashing and fighting against his grip on me. To no avail.

Geralt turns me around, the firm grip on my waist immediately softening the instant he realizes my panicked state.

“Oh, my little darling thing,” he murmurs, hoisting me up. Out of reflex, I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his hips. I shake violently in his arms, sobbing, my tears soaking into the soft fabric of his tunic. Rubbing soothing circles on my back with one hand, while the other supports me under my bum, Geralt carries me back home, whispering calming nothings in my ear.

“I’m sorry, my sweet little thing,” he coos, “But I really don’t like it when you touch my stuff. You could hurt yourself, or worse. And I could never forgive myself if that happened.”

His deep voice is soothing, grounding me, leading me back to the light after the darkness fear had casted over my mind. The monster from earlier turned into a gentle god of old. My protector, my everything.

Back in the warmth of our cottage, Geralt sits down in the large armchair, maneuvering me so I sit sideways in his lap, legs draped over the armrest, head still tucked safely under his chin. He even goes so far as to wrap me up in the crocheted blanket draped over the armchair’s back. My sobs have ceased to little whimpers, when Geralt brings a tentative hand to my jaw, lifting my head gently. He frowns at my bloodshot eyes and wipes a few tears away with his thumb, so careful as if he fears I could break.

“You know I love you, little darling,” he mumbles and I nod, nuzzling up closer in his embrace. With the ghost of a smile on his lips, the Witcher leans forwards and presses a gentle kiss to my forehead. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” His words are followed by a kiss to my temple. “And I would hate myself if something happened to you because of me.” A kiss to my cheek. And then another. Soon, he is peppering my entire face with little butterfly kisses, the short stubble on his jaw tickling and scratching at my tender skin. He only stops when I’m giggling uncontrollably and trying to push him away so I could catch my breath again.

“You are my life, darling,” he mumbles, cradling my skull in his large hand, making me feel tiny and fragile, “I’m nothing without you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper back, my voice hoarse from crying, as he leans in and captures my lips in his so tenderly, it makes my heart swell. Ever so slowly, he pries my lips apart, to let his tongue dance with mine.

My head is spinning when he breaks away, smiling down at me softly, stroking the rough pad of his thumb up and down my cheek ever so gently.

“You ran away,” he points out, voice as soft as it could get, but still that deep rumble that vibrates through my chest.

“You yelled at me,” I whisper back, “You never yelled at me before. I was scared.”

“Forgive me, little one. I was worried, that’s all.”

I just nod and crane my neck to press my lips softly to his stubbly jaw, the coarse, short hair tickling against my skin. A low rumbling sound makes my ears perk up and I giggle.

“We should eat,” I suggest, while attempting to climb out of the Witcher’s lap. He only reluctantly lets me go, but grumbles something about ‘smells delicious’. It only makes me laugh more, since it was his stomach that protested just moments before.

Dinner passes by in comfortable silence. Neither of us really feels the need to say something, the occasional glances and smiles are enough. I clean up the table and go to retrieve the expensive wine goblets the bard had gifted us for our wedding. With an approving hum, Geralt gets the large amphora and pours each of us a cup. I smile and grab my cup, about to go back over to my chair at the opposite side of the table, when Geralt catches my wrist and pulls me to sit on his lap.

Giggling, I sip on my wine, a soft moan leaving my lips when Geralt starts nibbling on my neck.

“You know that I still have to punish you for touching my sword, right?” he growls right into my ear. I shiver at the promise, and hum.

“I know.” I set down my goblet and climb off his lap, only to sit back down straddling him. His hand is on my hip in an instant, thumb rubbing small circles into my side, while he brings his own goblet to his lips with the other, taking a long sip as he stares into my eyes.

It makes my breath hitch, the sheer dominance radiating off him through such a simple act. My hips start moving on their own accord, grinding down against his crotch, as I whimper from the hot stare he’s giving me. His hand on my hips slides to the small of my back, supporting my movements against him; still, he clicks his tongue. “So eager,” he mutters and sets the goblet down, leans in, claiming my lips harshly now, his free hand coming up to hold my head against his. I’m trapped, completely at his mercy. There’s no escape from his grip. An intoxicating feeling. Just as intoxicating as the taste of wine on his lips and tongue.

I bring my hands up to rest against his chest, fingers playing with the chain of his amulet, moaning into the deep kiss. A low growl erupts from his lungs when I tug the chain lightly. The grip on my hip grows tighter for a moment, as does his grip on my neck, before his hands suddenly disappear from my body, our lips never parting. When I feel them back on my body, they have found the bottom of my bodice. I slow the movements of my lips, dreading what Geralt is about to do. With multiple, sickening snapping sounds, my bodice is yanked apart. I gasp and pull back from the Witcher to glare at him.

“I liked that one!” I complain while he grins at me smugly. And I know why. He can hear my heartbeat, loud and clear, and how it picked up at his demanding action.

“I’ll get you a new one.”

He leaves me no time to protest. He tugs my blouse out from my skirt and off my body in a matter of seconds, revealing my bare and heaving chest to his fiery eyes. Staring at me like a starving man, he lowers his head, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses to the soft swell of my breast, marking me with his spit, and soon also with his lips and teeth. I yelp when he pierces my supple skin with his sharp fangs, marking me as his own. His hands come up to join the ministrations, kneading and pinching, groaning when he feels my nipples harden to small pebbles against his palms.

While my husband busies himself with marking up my neck and chest, eliciting sweet, tiny whimpers and moans from my throat, I start to tug his tunic out of his trousers and then try to push it off his body. It’s difficult, his touch making me lose all focus. But once I manage to lift his tunic high enough, Geralt leans back and pulls the garment off his broad form.

My mouth waters at the sight that is revealed to me. And I would never get used to it. Never. I cannot stop myself. It starts quite innocent, with soft kisses to his neck, the occasional nibble, my hands on his shoulders. But the lower my mouth wanders, my hands following, nails scraping down the hard planes of his chest, the more I tease. Slowly, I get off his lap, to lower myself even slower. I lick down his chest, tongue dancing the deep valley between his pecs, moaning at the salty taste of his sweat, his very own musky scent invading my nose, dulling my senses. The silver chain of his medallion is cool against my tongue when I push it aside, the pendant brushing against my cheek. Still, I go lower, kissing, nipping and licking at the ridges of his abdomen, worshipping even the tiniest scar.

And he lets me do it. His need is as big as mine, probably bigger even, but in the back of my head I know he lets me tease him just to work myself up, so his punishment would be harder on me, once he decided to take control again. But quite frankly, right now I don’t care; right now all that matters to me is showing my husband just how much I love him.

I lower myself to my knees between his lightly spread legs – just enough space for me to sit between them. Mouthing along the waistband of his trousers, my fingers start unbuttoning the front, rubbing and caressing the hard bulge hidden beneath the soft leather, impatient to have him in my hands, but insistent on teasing him for as long as I can. With every button that I pop, my mouth waters more, desperate to taste him.

I peer up at the Witcher through my lashes, finding him staring down at me with a cocked brow, expecting, waiting for just the right moment to take control. With a tiny nod, he signals me to go on. Suddenly overcome with a wave of nervousness, I open the next button. Two to go. I open the next, his hardness straining to escape from its confines. Slowly and tenderly, I let the tip of my index finger caress the sliver of velvet skin that is revealed. And then I open the last button.

His cock springs free of its confines, but before I can get my hands, let alone my lips on him, Geralt pulls me up by my shoulders, spins me around and bends me over the table.

“Did you really think I’d let you do that, little one?” he taunts, clicking his tongue, calloused fingers ghosting down my sides to the waistband of my skirt.

“N-no,” I whimper, slipping deeper and deeper into submission from just his heat radiating off him behind me.

Letting his fingers glide down to the small of my back, Geralt nimbly undoes the strings of my skirt, giving it a tiny push so it pools around my feet. For a few breaths, I just stand there, tense and anticipating what he’d do next. I half expect him to spank me – I have to be punished after all. Heat pools in my belly at the thought, more than it had when I tasted his skin. But nothing happens. I even stick my bum out farther, arching my back, signalling him to start his punishment. But still nothing happens.

Then he presses up behind me, his manhood, hot and pulsing, pokes against one cheek of my behind, while his hands sneak around my hips, splaying out on my stomach. I whimper, by now burning with need; the gentleness of his touch, the feel of his hardness pressing into me, and the uncertainty of what he’ll choose as punishment driving me insane.

He pulls me up gently, one hand on my hip, pressing me flush against his chest, the other sliding up to my throat, applying just the tiniest sliver of pressure, just enough to feel the pulse of my racing heart against his fingertips.

His lips brush against the shell of my ear as he speaks again.

“Oh, my sweet little thing, no no, that’s not what I’ll do with you,” he coos in the low, husky rumble of his voice, “I know how much you like it when I mark up that sweet little ass of yours. There’s no punishment in that, am I not right?” I just let out another whimper, desperately grinding my hips back against him. “I know how wet it’s making you, just the thought of it. I can smell it, your slick little cunt begging to be fucked. Too bad I won’t be doing that tonight.”

His threat makes me shiver. He never let a chance slip to have me trembling beneath him, but he also has the self-control of, well, a Witcher.

A moment of silence passes between us as he nibbles on the lobe of my ear and the skin below, making my breath shudder in a quiet moan.

“Love, please,” I breathe in a shaky voice. I can feel him throbbing against my skin, begging to be buried deep in the sweet, cushioned heat of my velvet walls. I know that any other day, he’d just take me right here, bent over on the table.

“Hmm,” Geralt hums, as if contemplating, “Maybe, if you behave, I’ll give you what you need, little one. But only if you do exactly as I tell you. Understand?”

His command pulls another whimper from me and I nod.

“Good.”

And with that, he gently turns me around and lifts me by the back of my thighs. Instinctively, I wrap my arms around his neck – just like earlier in the forest. The only difference now is that his hot length is pressing right against my folds, rubbing slightly with every step Geralt takes. I bite my lip not to whine, tensing up my entire body to stop myself from grinding against him.

Geralt notices. Of course he does. Putting me down in the middle of our bed, he chuckles lowly, lustful eyes taking in my squirming form. He turns away for a moment, rummaging in the dresser reserved for all his Witcher stuff.

“Arms up,” is all he says when he turns back around, holding something I can’t quite recognize, and I immediately obey. “Good,” he grins, “Now close your eyes.” Again, I do as I’m told, engulfing myself in the darkness that lies behind my eyelids.

Something drops onto the bed next to me, close to my head, and I flinch slightly.

“Shh,” Geralt coos, ghosting his knuckles over my cheek and I relax. There’s the sound of something soft yet strong dragging over the wooden frame of our bed, a light creaking. And then I feel the calloused yet somehow soft fingertips of the Witcher dragging from my elbow up to my wrist, pulling it a little closer to the edge of the mattress. A small wave of terror washes through me when I realize what he’s doing. But it's too late. He wraps the rope around my wrist and ties it, trapping me in bed. I can’t run. I’m completely at his mercy. Only, in this situation, he doesn’t know mercy. I broke a rule, I have to be punished - it’s the one agreement we made when we got married. The only way to make him stop is to use our safeword, to show him I’m not enjoying this right now. But by the gods above, I am!

“No! Please, Love. I want to touch you!” I beg, tugging at the restraint. It was to no avail; neither would budge, not the rope nor my husband.

“You touched enough of me already,” he growls, and I feel his breath against my neck. I didn’t know he was this close. I jump slightly at the proximity. “Shh, relax, my sweet darling. And keep your eyes closed,” he adds when he sees my eyelids flutter.

I know better than to disobey, and I’m rewarded with a small kiss to my forehead. I listen as he makes his way to the other side of the bed, dragging the rope over the floor behind him – on purpose, how I know him. Again, he ties it to the bedpost first and then takes my arm and shackles me. Again, I tug in protest, again to no avail.

“Is it too tight?” I hear him ask, his voice now coming from the foot of the bed.

“No.”

“Too loose?”

“No.”

“Good. Then…” I hear him stomp over back to the headboard, then feel his hand cradling the back of my head, lifting up a little, and then lowers it back to the pillows, my head now resting a little higher – so my eyes would point at the foot of the bed? What in the names of the gods have you planned, love? “Open your eyes.”

My eyelids flutter open, just as I had been told, and I’m staring at the foot of the bed. No, I’m staring at the Witcher standing at the foot of the bed, now stripped of those deliciously tight trousers, presenting himself in all his gorgeous scarred glory. And I can’t touch. I want – need – to touch him, but he won’t let me.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look all tied up and wet for me?” he taunts, flicking his tongue over his bottom lip at the sight of my spread legs and glistening petals begging for him, my arousal dripping onto the sheets.

“Please,” I mewl, the pit in my core burning with hellfire, aching with the unbearable need of being stretched to the limits by his imposing cock – that I can’t take my eyes off right now.

“No,” he simply states, “This is your punishment.”

I’m thrashing and writhing against my restrains, howling like a cat in heat, crazed by the view in front of me. His controlled stance is driving me insane.

“Hold still!” the naked beast growls, but I don’t listen, I can’t, for the first time this night. With a grunt, he grabs his silver sword. The sharp sound of metal dragging over the stone floor makes me shiver. He had tossed the blade into our bedroom when I took off? Now he points the blade at me. A whimper escapes my lips, but I can’t stop moving. I’ve lost control over my body long ago, given it up to him when he bent me over the dinner table.

“You will learn to obey orders!” Geralt spits. He lowers the blade, lets the tip glide over my stomach.

I freeze, staring up at him wide-eyed. I trust Geralt with my life, but right now, I can’t help but fear the man I love.

“Now, that’s better,” he grins at me tauntingly. And to make it worse, he wraps his fingers around his rigid and waiting cock, the thing I had been begging to touch the moment we started.

Another whimper escapes me as the tip of the sword brushes over my pebbled nipple light as a feather.

“Quiet!” the Witcher hisses, slapping my tender breast with the breadth of the blade. I have to bite my tongue to keep quiet, staring up at him with teary eyes.

With the taunting grin still stretched along his lips, the Witcher starts pumping himself, releasing one deep groan after the other.

My fingers itch to touch him, mouth and core gushing to please him. But all he does is stare at my trembling form while he strokes himself, the tip of that damned blade ghosting over my skin in order to keep me still, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“How does it feel?” Geralt groans, “When someone’s touching what is yours?” I just let out a whine, tugging weakly at the ropes. “Answer me!” Another slap to my breast, the other one this time.

“Ow!” I whimper, “It hurts. I hate it! Geralt, please. Please, I’ll never touch your stuff again, I promise, but please stop that and fuck me.”

“Not yet,” he growls, increasing the speed of his hand around his shaft, his tip weeping the first droplet of pre-cum. Transfixed, I watch it run down the side of the Witcher’s cock, gliding over all the ridges and pulsing veins I want to touch so desperately. With the next stroke, the droplet disappears, smeared all over Geralt's length. A deep groan erupts from his chest when the tiniest amount of wetness eases the movements of his hand.

I clench my legs together at the sound, the pit in my belly blazing, aching with hellfire licking at every of my nerves. Rubbing my thighs together, I hope to relieve at least a little of the throbbing. But Geralt has none of that.

“Spread them,” he commands sternly, his blade ghosting over my body, leaving thin red lines of irritated skin behind.

“Love, please, it hurts.” My voice is breathy and shaky, barely above a whisper, yet full of desperation.

He keeps teasing my mound with just the tip of his blade, eliciting whimper after whimper from my lips. Still stroking himself, he stares at what the sight of him does to me. I’m panting, writhing as much as the fear of being cut allows me, my skin glistening with a sheen of sweat in the soft light of the candles around us. In short, I’m a complete mess.

“You are so beautiful like this, little one,” he groans, eyes fixed on my nectar-dripping petals while he tugs on his shaft relentlessly, balls flexing, close to his release.

And then suddenly, he dives forwards, slicing through the ropes and throwing the sword down to the floor in one movement. I gasp as he yanks me towards him to straddle his thighs, a firm hand between my shoulder blades supporting me while he smashes his lips against mine. I kiss back instantly, throwing my arms around his neck and tangling my fingers into his hair. Tugging harshly at the strands, I pull him back a little, glaring at him.

“Don’t ever do that again,” I hiss, grinding my hips against his length, finally gaining some friction.

Shaking his head, Geralt smiles, leaning back in to kiss all over my face.

“I won’t,” he murmurs against my skin, “Fuck, it’s been probably just as hard on me as it was on you.”

“I doubt that,” I grumble, grinding my hips harder.

“Fuck, little thing, if you keep doing that, I’m gonna cum,” he warns in a breathy groan, but I just shrug, pulling my hands from his hair to wrap around his hot iron rod wrapped in velvet. He lets out a groan when I start pumping, the soft skin coated in my wetness sliding beneath my fingers.

I feel him flinch under my touch, close to his release, when Geralt bats my hands away, gripping my hips tightly and yanking me up to sit on my knees.

“Gonna cum inside of you,” he grunts as he pushes my hips back down, impaling me with his length, forcing me to bottom out a few seconds later.

My slick walls show little resistance. They more so invite the intruder to go deeper, sucking him into the lush velvet canal.

The deep sigh escaping my lungs when Geralt enters me soon turns into a loud cry once his tip kisses my cervix. Panting, I let my head fall onto his shoulder, forehead resting against hard muscle and bone, while he lets out a long groan.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he pants, pressing his lips to my temple. Again, I feel him flinch between my fluttering walls. He’s close. And his strained breathing tells me he’s holding back. Shaking my head slightly, I lift my hands to cup his strong jaw.

“Don’t do that, love,” I whisper, voice strained just from the feeling of him inside me, “Don’t hold back. Give me everything. Please.”

“I’m not gonna last,” he warns, voice just as pressed as mine.

“Mhh.” My hands slide to the back of his head, fingers tangling in the long locks, tugging lightly. “I know for a fact that you can go more than one round, my love,” I purr into his ear, gently biting the lobe. Kissing down his neck, I start grinding my hips down forcefully, pulling deep groans from his chest.

“Fuck.” Strong hands clasp around my waist as Geralt guides my movements against him while he starts thrusting into me.

“Tha-at’s it,” I pant between the hard rocks of his hips, “Ju-st like that. Give me- give me every- everything.”

With nearly animalistic grunts, he slams my hips against his, burying his face in the space between my neck and shoulder, leaving me to pant and moan directly into his ear.

“Fuck,” Geralt grunts and his hips stutter. A few more harsh thrusts upward and he roars like a beast, spilling himself into me. I yelp when his sharp fangs sink into the soft skin of my shoulder, drawing a little blood. He stills while I roll my hips against him slowly, allowing him to ride out his high. I giggle slightly when he slumps against my chest, forehead resting against my sternum, panting into the valley of my breast.

Ignoring the throbbing need within my core, I run my fingers through the Witcher’s tangled mane, giving his scalp a gentle massage, allowing him to come back down to earth. Once his breathing slowed to a normal pace, Geralt lifts his head to look at me, eyelids still heavy with afterglow, smiling like a little puppy, before claiming my lips softly. One hand supports my lower back, pulling me flush against his body, while the other braces his weight as he lowers the two of us to lie down.

Slinging my arms around his neck, I keep him in place, even when he tries to roll off me.

“Uh-uh, you stay right here,” I murmur, my fingers dancing over his back light as a feather until he relaxes against me, lowering himself to lie on my chest, stubbled cheek resting against my collarbone.

“Alright,” he mutters, voice drowsy, making me smile, “Just give me a minute, little one.”

Giggling, I run my right hand all over his back, drawing invisible circles on his scarred skin, the other running through his silvery locks.

“What happened, love?” I laugh lightly, “Usually you’re not done so soon.”

“I chopped wood the whole day,” Geralt grumbles, his deep voice reverberating through my chest, “That’s what happened.”

“Mhh, my big, strong man,” I hum, tugging a little at his hair, teasing him.

And with success. A growl erupts from deep within his chest as he props himself on his elbows, catching my soft gaze with his hard, golden stare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” I smile innocently, contracting my pelvic muscles around his still hard length within me. He just hisses in response and lowers his head again to nip on the sensitive skin of my throat. A surprised yelp leaves my lips, making the beast chuckle. “It means what I said.” My voice is shaky now, just from his slight show of dominance. “You are my big and strong man, love.”

“Hm.”

With a grunt, he slowly starts rolling his hips against mine, making me gasp at the sudden friction within. I wrap my legs around his waist, heels digging into his bottom, trying to get him even deeper. I also buck my hips up to meet him every time he rolls his hips into mine, but Geralt just sneaks his hand down to the small of my back, pulling me up against him. He keeps grinding, hard and deep, but oh so very slow, kissing his way from my throat to my lips, capturing them in a deep kiss.

“You won’t go faster, right?” I mumble against his lips, letting out a deep sigh at the next roll of his hips, how every vein and ridge of his cock strokes me deliciously and at how his pubic bone rubs against my clit with just the right pressure. I feel myself clench around him tightly, flames starting to lick at my insides.

“I won’t,” he whispers back, followed by a small peck to my lips before he pulls back a little to watch as my face twists in pleasure.

“Mhh,” I hum, pulling his head back down until our lips meet. “Perfect. I love you so much.”

“Fuck, woman,” the Witcher groans, shifting so the arm that’s supporting his weight rests underneath my head, his big hand cradling it delicately. His other hand slides back to my hip, holding me in place as he grinds his hips harder into mine.

Breathy moans are swallowed by his lips on mine as he gently leads me to the edge. The flames that licked at my insides are now blazing, the love Geralt puts into every achingly slow thrust are like adding oil to a fire. He holds me close to him while he takes me and at the same time gives me everything he has.

It’s… this is not just sex, not some punish-fuck. This is us giving each other all our love.

I clench hard around his shaft, heels digging deeper into my lover’s lower back. The pressure is growing to be unbearable in my core, euphoria already surging through my veins, waiting for just the right moment to explode.

“Love, I-I…” I let out a breathy moan against Geralt's lips. I don’t even have to finish the sentence, not that I could, before he responds.

“I know, little one. Me too. Just hold it a little,” he rasps, now quickening his pace just slightly.

He’s so deep, rubbing perfectly against my clenching walls, every ridge and vein stroking nerves that send tiny sparks through my body. His tip bumps into my cervix with every stroke, a delicious hint of pain, eliciting gasp after gasp from me. And then I feel him swell, his thrusts losing their pattern. I have trouble holding it in. Everything is just so intense. My walls are already twitching with the dawning of my high.

“Fuck,” he grunts, pulling back from my lips, staring down at me with lust-blown pupils, watching heavy lids struggling to stay open from bliss. “Look at me,” he coos, softly stroking his thumb along my cheekbone, “Cum for me, my sweet thing.”

That’s all it takes. That’s all it takes for me to soar over the edge, to fall onto the warm embrace of pleasure.

“I fucking love you!” I cry out as I crash, holding onto him for dear life as my body tenses and twitches, my walls clenching hard around him, taking him with me into the white hot pleasure. I can see the love in his eyes, just before mine flutter shut, leaving me with the image of beautiful, golden orbs in front of exploding stars.

Only in the back of my mind, I can feel Geralt spill himself into me for a second time, marking me as his own in the most primal way. Only in the back of my mind, I hear him shout my name as he stills, pushing in as deep as he could go, claiming my body as his.

Panting heavily, I open my eyes, catching the most glorious sight there is. My Witcher, with his mouth hanging open, lips red and puffy from our kisses, eyes screwed shut and brows knitted in bliss. Another wave of ecstasy washes over me just from the sight of him. With loving fascination, I watch his face twist as he grinds against me slowly, riding out both our highs, breathing ragged.

I reach my hand to Geralt's cheek, thumb grazing, wiping away a droplet of sweat that runs down from his temple. Slowly, he opens his eyes. His lids are just as heavy from bliss as mine, as he peers down at me lovingly, before he dips down his head to capture my lips one last time.

“I love you too, my sweet little thing,” he murmurs, carefully turning the two of us around. Humming, I snuggle up against his chest, ready to fall asleep with his cock still inside of me, but Geralt has other plans. With one gentle hand on my shoulder, the other on my hip, he guides me to sit up, and if I wouldn’t feel him starting to soften between my walls, I would have whined that I couldn’t go anymore.

Slowly, Geralt makes me sit up on my knees, making him slip from my core. I hiss slightly at the loss of his warmth and the feeling of being complete. And then he holds me there, my folds hovering above his lower belly. Enticed, Geralt stares at the apex of my thighs. I shake my head and laugh lightly when I feel why. His seed is slowly dripping out of me, some running down my inner thighs, some landing on his belly, catching like little pearls in the coarse hair that leads to his treasure.

“Love,” I sigh, “Must you do that? I’m tired and just want to sleep.”

“Hmm,” he grunts, eyes flicking to mine shortly, before focusing back on where we had been joined only minutes ago, “You’re so fucking beautiful like this.”

“Ohh, yeah,” I groan in fake exasperation, “Sooo beautiful. Love, you’re staring at my cunt.”

Finally, he meets my eyes for longer, a shit eating grin painting his lips. “I know what I mean, woman. Your little cunt is so beautiful dripping my cum.”

I just roll my eyes and flop down onto his chest. “Men…” I mutter, making Geralt chuckle lightly, his hand running up and down my back in a gentle caress. A moment of comfortable silence passed between us, the two of us just listening to each other’s heartbeat. Sometimes, it was still slightly unsettling to hear the Witcher’s heart beat so slowly, especially after some more exhausting activities. But the slow beating of his heart also had a very soothing effect and soon I find myself slowly drifting to sleep.

That is when he rolls us to the side and gets out of bed.

“Geralt, what are y-?”

“Just a moment.”

I watch his as he picks up his sword off the ground, carefully puts it in its sheath and hangs it to the wall. And then he disappears from the room, only to come back shortly after with our wine. Smiling, I sit up and reach out a hand at the offered cup, but frown when Geralt sets down the cups, his hands shooting to my forearms. Nimble fingers undo the knots around my wrists, gently caressing the slightly red skin.

“Does it hurt?” the Witcher’s voice is small, soft and filled with regret. He peers at me, serious yet soft, eyes apologizing for the hurt. But I shake my head.

“No, it doesn’t. But I didn’t like it, not being able to touch you. Not even being able to try, but it doesn’t hurt. Love, it’s fine,” I assure him, cupping his frowning face between my palms.

“Good.” He presses a small kiss to the pad of my thumb that had been running along his plump bottom lip before continuing, “Did you learn your lesson?”

I nod. “Yeah,” I sigh, “I’ll never touch your things again. I’m sorry, love. But maybe don’t put it on the dinner table next time, hm?”

A soft smile grazes his handsome features as he shakes his head lightly. “Guess we both learned something.”

“Mhh.”

He hands me the wine and finally climbs into bed, taking his cup from me once he’s settled against the headboard. There, he pulls me to lean against his shoulder, wrapping his free arm around my waist.

We take a few sips of the rich, burgundy liquid in silence, listening to each other’s breath and heartbeat, content in the moment of absolute peace after what we’ve been through today. After a moment of careful contemplation, I break the silence.

“Love?”

“Hmm?”

“You know that I know what I’m doing, right? And I’m not that clumsy. If your stuff is in the way, I can put it away without hurting myself, you know? It’s not like it’s that heavy.”

“I know, sweet thing,” the Witcher sighs, “But if something happened to you, it’d be on me. Just, please, don’t touch my swords again. I know you wouldn’t drink my potions, but my swords… I just want to keep you safe, my darling.”

“I couldn’t be safer, my love,” I mumble, putting my wine aside, and roll up against Geralt's side, nuzzling my head to his stomach, falling asleep to him gently running his fingers through my hair.

-THE END-

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