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ahundredtimesover · 3 months

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I Want You to Stay (03) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 14.8k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: I've been thoroughly enjoying your asks and replies about this story (sorry I can’t get to each one!) I see that a lot can relate to what OC's going through and I'm sending you hugs! 🤗 Again, I appreciate your love and excitement. And uh... Golden JK in that white tank. YUP. 🤭 Hoping you enjoy this one!

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!

The spring in your step tightens the closer you get to Jungkook’s penthouse the next Monday. Walking here to start another week, there’s a mix of emotions you’re carrying with you.

You got to spend a proper weekend. On Friday, you made yourself some cold noodles and then watched a movie with Jimin and Soomin on video call, who’d said they’ll be visiting you in a week. You took the train to Daegu on Saturday, went to the park, then stayed in to enjoy Min-woo’s cooking and the girls’ stories about school and their youth clubs. You then buried yourself in your mother’s embrace as you told her about your week. You didn’t want to say too much, not wanting her to worry that her daughter isn’t being treated well at her job, but you suppose you said enough.

“I wish I was strong enough to protect you from everything,” she’d told you softly. “All I can do is just give you hugs and say words of encouragement that might not even mean much.”

“And you still are, mom. I look forward to being with you because of those hugs. But more than that, you were strong enough to protect me from the bad guys,” you’d assured her. “Jungkook is many things but he’s not a terrible person. I can handle him.”

And you meant it. He may be hot-tempered sometimes but he’s not evil. But just because he made you go home early last Friday, it also doesn’t mean he’s suddenly redeemed in your mind. Sure, he didn’t email you at all over the weekend unlike last time, but he also still didn’t apologize to you nor show remorse.

Perhaps that small nod after he called you telling you that you could go home was his way of saying sorry, or maybe it just isn’t in his vocabulary. You wonder if Hoseok had told him off but even then, it’s a pretty quick change, if you could call it that.

Regardless, you felt like a human being again these past few days; you just wish Jungkook woke up on the right side of the bed this morning and doesn’t find a reason to complain about you.

Unlocking the door, you’re surprised to hear silence - there are no grunts and deep breaths nor the sound of leather hitting leather from his morning workout. You scan the floor before walking around - a habit you’ve developed after finding that laced underwear last week - and then peep into the door on the right, only to find untouched equipment and no other traces of him.

You’re in the living room when you hear another door close, prompting you to turn around and see a woman appearing from the hallway on the other side of the penthouse. Her hair’s a bit disheveled and she’s wearing one of Jungkook’s coats that you saw in his closet.

“Uh, who are you?” The woman scoffs, her arms crossed and eyebrows raised now.

Taken aback, you just stare at her, until you realize she’s not wearing anything underneath so you look away.

You try to make sense of who she is and how you could get out of this situation. You know for a fact that Jungkook doesn’t have a girlfriend, at least that’s what Lucas had told you, but who knows what Jungkook’s been up to since he got back? There was that red laced underwear from last week after all. Maybe he does sleep around like what Do-hyun said. Maybe this woman just doesn’t know Jungkook has a female assistant. Maybe he’s—

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” she says, sounding more annoyed now.

“Oh. Uh, I’m Mr. Jeon’s—”

“She’s my assistant,” Jungkook answers, catching you off guard, given that you hadn’t noticed him walk in.

He’s not in his usual workout attire, although him in a white tank top and gray sweatpants with mussed hair somehow seems more overwhelming than him in nothing but gym shorts. You glance at him as he stands next to the woman, whose face suddenly lights up. Not wanting to look at her, you shift your gaze towards the ceiling, trying hard not to look awkward as you’re rooted in place.

The woman looks at you from head to toe and you feel her judging you, assessing you, while Jungkook stands there, yawning and combing his hair with his fingers.

“Just your assistant?” She asks, sounding incredulous.

“Yeah. What else would she be?” Jungkook answers nonchalantly. Looking at you, he nods ever so slightly that you almost miss it, another hint of acknowledgement you’d seen last Friday. “Just eggs on toast. And coffee.”

“Yes, Mr. Jeon,” you say, exhaling the breath you were holding and then walking to the kitchen to start on his breakfast.

“I don’t know, another one of your girls? I see you with a new one every time,” she huffs, sounding bitter, but Jungkook doesn’t sound amused.

“What are you still doing here?” He asks, walking to where you are then taking the glass of water you prepare for him. “I called a service for you last night.”

“I was too tired,” she says, and you don’t miss the sultry tone of her voice now. “You tired me out, Jungkook. I could barely get off the bed.”

“And why are you still here?” He asks, clearly not having it with her teasing.

“Because I’m still tired,” she smirks, having followed him to the kitchen.

You feel tense once more; you definitely don’t want to be part of this conversation in any way nor be privy to it, especially given what obviously happened between them last night. And especially not with Jungkook looking and sounding the way he does this early Monday morning.

“And I was thirsty,” she continues.

He sets his glass down and opens the refrigerator and takes out a bottle of water that he hands over to her.

“Ugh, how romantic,” she rolls her eyes, finishing it in a few gulps.

“I have to go to work,” he tells her, frustrated that she’s being stubborn about not leaving when he no longer seems to want her around.

“Actual work, or, you know, work?” She says, gesturing towards you.

You make the mistake of looking at her smug face, the insinuation not lost on you. It’s insane how she can just make claims like that, and you feel that just like you, Jungkook’s getting pissed.

“Can you just leave?” He says much more sternly now. “I can’t start my day with you still here.”

“Ooh, how rude,” she giggles. “Should’ve expected you’d be like that even outside of bed. I like that.”

She walks back to the room, leaving you and Jungkook on your own. You continue to work on his eggs while he stands by the counter, rubbing his temples. You’re unsure if it’s because of her or from last night’s alcohol, but you get aspirin and also a bottle of energy drink and set them in front of him before returning to preparing his meal.

The woman comes back shortly in last night’s attire then walks towards Jungkook.

“I’m leaving,” she announces, tilting his chin so he would face her. “I’ll see you again, yeah?”

Jungkook turns away and does not respond, leaving her to laugh as if there’s a joke that only she’s in on.

“Going all quiet on me now, huh?” She says. “You weren’t like that last night. I can still hear your moans, actually. Fuck, they sounded so good and so loud.”

You almost hit your finger as you slice the apple, clearly not expecting for this stranger to say something so intimate, knowing there’s another person in the room with them. You don’t know if she wants to intimidate you for whatever reason or maybe just make you feel uncomfortable. Whatever it is, it’s working, as you’re unable to focus on the task at hand now.

Jungkook still doesn’t say anything, and it’s what prompts her to finally say goodbye.

“Fine, I’ll leave now,” she whines. “But that was an amazing first time. I hope it won’t be the last.”

Her giggle annoys you for some reason, even more when you mistakenly look her way. Her smug face unnerves you as she holds your gaze while she says, “I’ll see you again, okay? I’ll make sure you’ll scream my name next time,” the words obviously directed at Jungkook.

She finally exits the penthouse but she doesn’t take the tension with her because in this large apartment with you and him, you feel a little too hot, a little too alert, yet somehow a little too curious.

Jungkook groans now as he finishes his energy drink, and he doesn’t know what he’s more frustrated about - the fact that the woman whose name he doesn’t remember didn’t go home, or that you’d found out about it in the most embarrassing way and he’d done nothing to stop her attempts at making you feel uncomfortable because that’s definitely what she was doing.

He doesn’t know how it affected you but even he can tell that it wouldn’t have been good. Not that he’s ashamed of his lifestyle but it’s different when you, of all people, get to see what that looks like. You did see the laced underwear on his kitchen floor last week, and he knows you definitely tried to pretend you hadn’t. Perhaps the image of arrogant, playboy Jungkook just solidified in your head and the fact that maybe that’s what you think of him is making him feel uneasy.

Not that he cares about what you think - he definitely does not - but he just doesn’t want that to affect how you would treat him in a professional sense, as if he’s some reckless man who works too hard and parties much harder, even if that’s kind of what he does.

The hangover doesn’t help at all; he shouldn’t have chugged that wine while the woman was giving him head, which was amazing, he reminds himself. He just knows he won’t be seeing her again after this morning because she’d been stubborn and shameless, and definitely not because of how she spoke to you and the insinuations she made.

“Mr. Jeon, your breakfast is ready,” you inform him, breaking him out of his thoughts.

He takes a seat on the table and you sit next to him, taking out your iPad to start your rundown of last Friday’s meeting and this week’s schedule.

“So—”

“Wait, give me a minute,” he stops you, and he realizes just how little sleep he actually got and he’s gonna have to push through today’s busy schedule despite feeling physically out of it.

“Okay, sir,” you say softly.

He munches on his toast with his eyes closed, and when he opens them, his gaze falls on you, sitting upright on the chair looking clean and proper in your blush blouse and beige skirt. You seem to be reviewing the reports from last week, your eyebrows scrunched as you scribble on the screen. He knows you took the hours-long trip to and from Daegu over the weekend; the visit, just like any, must have been tiring. Yet you come to his place everyday without fail, ready to do what he needs you to do, and he doesn’t even know if you’ve had anything to eat yet.

“Have you had breakfast?” He asks.

“E-excuse me?”

“Breakfast. Have you had it?”

“O-oh. Yes, I had some crackers and fruit on the way. I ate on the bus,” you respond.

He remembers your address from your staff profile. You live about 40 minutes from him, almost double if you commute. You come at 6:30 everyday, so he can only imagine what it’s like for you every morning.

“Why don’t you drive?”

“I don’t have a car, sir.”

“Shouldn’t that be part of your contract? Or a benefit of some sort?”

“It isn’t. I believe only the CEO’s assistant does,” you respond.

“Bitna has a company car.”

“Ms. Jung requested that when she was still President.”

“Then I’ll request one for you. It's… it’s too early. And you can’t always be assured of public transportation. There could be delays. Or an emergency that would require you to drive.”

Of course, he’d want you to get a car so that you’re more accessible to him. Just when you thought there’s actually a bit of his heart working this time, he reminds you why there isn’t.

“That’s true, but nothing has happened so far. And there are other options should there be,” you say. “I also don’t know how to drive so there is no need, Mr. Jeon. I leave my apartment early enough to make sure I get here on time, and I’ll let you know if I will be late.”

Jungkook just hums, even if there’s more he wants to know. What about late nights? What if there’s a storm? Well, he does know - he did see you miss out on taxis and then just walk last Tuesday; he wonders how you got home then, and how many hours of sleep you had after all that.

He lets it go; it’s too early to think about this.

“Good. We can run through the minutes now,” he says.

So you do, stating the points and confirming your actions for each one and then noting down his as well. You try to focus, and you’re able to for the most part, but it’s not easy when he sits just a few feet away from you, with his bare arms propped on the table that’s just hard to look away from.

You’ve always liked tattoos on other people, and the art on his right arm looks so delicate and personal; you wonder what someone like him would value enough to ink permanently on his skin. Even his untouched arm is mesmerizing, toned like every other part of him, with beauty marks that you spot as well. It doesn’t help that his slightly long hair keeps falling over his eyes, prompting him to comb them with his fingers every time.

What also doesn’t help are the woman’s words from earlier, as she’d managed to make you think of Jungkook in a very different way, given her descriptions of how he’d been last night. You don’t know what she intended by doing that, but you didn’t miss her insinuations about your relations with him, which are definitely far from the truth. Learning that he’s rough and loud in bed is also knowledge that you could’ve done without. Somehow, he sounds like how he looks - expressive of negative emotions, and the type to drain the other person.

He also sounds like the guys you’ve slept with.

The thought alarms you. These are things you shouldn’t be thinking about your boss, about the man who pays you, about the one who makes you miss meals and buses and who makes you angry because of how he treats you.

You try to dispel these ideas by coughing - the loud sound helps, and you also want to distract yourself from how distracted you are at your task because somehow he keeps getting more and more attractive after every glance.

He stands up, and just when you thought he’d be angry after your disruption, he surprises you by placing a glass of water in front of you.

“You can drink, you know? You can make yourself a cup of coffee. You can even cook yourself breakfast if it’s just crackers you eat in the morning,” he says.

Yes, you think to yourself. You’ve been wanting to try his coffee because of the fancy machine but breakfast sounds… too domestic.

“Thank you, but I’m okay. I mean, the snacks fill me up just fine.”

“It’s not proper breakfast, though,” he argues.

“With all due respect, sir, eating takes time away from all the things I have to do. I manage just fine.”

Expecting an annoyed expression from him because you did just imply that you do too much, you instead see the tiniest hint of guilt on his face, as if he actually feels bad that you’re unable to take care of yourself because of him.

“You’re not a servant, Ms. Cho. You’re not disallowed to do basic things just because of your job.”

“You have standards, Mr. Jeon,” you say, throwing his words back at him. You don’t expect to see his face fall a little, and you’re surprised that you seem to care. “I need to meet them, and I’m still familiarizing myself with how you want things done, and that takes time. I don’t mean to imply that you treat me like a servant because you don’t. I just… I want to be able to do things right and I’m still learning.”

The words hit Jungkook. He knows he’d been too critical during these first weeks, and that’s more because he’s unable to manage the initial attraction that he’s trying so hard to temper. He could’ve gone on correcting you constructively, with no need for harshness the way he did with Lucas when he started.

You’ve also been doing this for a few years. You’ve been working for the VP’s office longer than he has - you know the people and the processes more, yet you’re the one claiming you need to learn and do things right. Even he thinks his father, whom he never thought was the best at looking out for his people, wouldn’t be angry at those below him for irrational reasons. Somehow he thinks he’s worse than his old man now.

But the word sorry isn’t in his vocabulary. He’d rarely ever said it, and the only reason he’d heard it a lot growing up was because people caused his inconvenience, and not because they’d hurt his feelings. He doesn’t know what that’s like - forgiving and wanting to be forgiven. They’re foreign to him, but somehow those are what you’re making him want to know.

“I—”

“Can we move on, Mr. Jeon?” You interrupt him. “You have a scheduled check-in with your father before the 8:30 team meeting.”

“Right, that’s today,” Jungkook says, letting go of any form of apology he could muster.

He nods then stands up to head to his bathroom, and you follow shortly after to arrange his outfits for the week. You clean up in the kitchen after and wait for him to come out, with you reflexively walking up to him to fix his tie and make sure all the creases on his clothes are fixed.

Jungkook tries to remain still as you, like everyday, make sure he looks proper. It always took him a long time to get ready because he used to do all this on his own, but with you taking on the unofficial stylist role - which he admits you do a great job at - he’s relieved of that added stress of looking the part of a Vice President. It just also means that every morning, he has to look unaffected as you stand close to him like this, with you tightening his tie and your fingers grazing his clothed chest.

You smell like roses. It feels warm and nostalgic, like it’s familiar but also something new. It’s refreshing on you, and it wafts through his nose and paralyzes him a little. He tries to hold his breath like always, only briefly glancing at your focused eyes as you make sure he looks impeccable.

He’s caught off guard when you look up and meet his gaze. He doesn’t react, but he does linger and surprisingly, so do you. He wants to apologize but he doesn’t know how to. He just hopes you feel it somehow with how he looks at you; he’d like to think you do, as you gently bow and step back, taking your things to go down.

You go through his schedule while in the car, noting his dinner meetings and that the food tasting for next month’s event with the art industry professionals that you’re both organizing has been moved to next week, freeing up his Thursday lunch hour.

“I’ll schedule my visit at Taehyung’s tailor shop that day then,” Jungkook states. “I’ll have a few suits done.”

“Noted, Mr. Jeon,” you reply, adjusting his calendar.

He doesn’t say anything after. He takes his leather notebook and sketches like he often does, looking out his window only a few times as he’s engrossed in his drawings. Even with all that he is, you can’t deny Jungkook’s talent. You only know he took an architecture course but you don’t know if he actually practices it.

You start to wonder if Jungkook wanted that to be his profession but couldn’t pursue it because he’s expected to manage the company with his cousin. You wonder if he’d always been into drawing and the arts, if it was an outlet the way reading picture books was for you; you’d wanted to become an illustrator but your mother couldn’t afford drawing classes and that profession just didn’t seem like it could sustain you financially. You wonder what Jungkook thinks when he sketches and what his subjects are, if he feels at peace the way he looks, if he hopes he could just spend his days doing this.

The seeming warmth in your thoughts about this man concerns you, prompting you to turn away from his direction and stare out the window instead. You remind yourself that this is the same person who’d made the past two weeks miserable for you; he doesn’t deserve warmth from you in any form, even if, for the briefest moment earlier after you fixed his tie, that’s what you gave him. You learned that he’s quite mesmerizing when he doesn’t talk or when he isn’t scowling. You also learned you’re quite quick to fall into it when you let your guard down a little.

You groan internally. There’s a lot you don’t know about him and you don’t really care to know more; what you know is enough to put you off anyway. And so these moments of weakness - of curiosity, of concern - should not happen again.

Except, they do happen, over an hour later after Jungkook returns to his room from his check-in with his father. He sits on his chair, his eyes closed and jaws clenched, unmoving for a good few minutes, and you watch from your seat, wondering what transpired that’s got him this disturbed.

It happens again an hour later. He moved the team meeting to the afternoon and he’s now furiously typing on his desktop, making calls, sketching, making calls again, then sitting still with his eyes closed once more. Hoseok walks in, merely nodding at you, then enters the room and speaks with the younger man. Jungkook closes the blinds, and you’re left to wonder what’s going on behind closed doors and what’s got him angry and frustrated.

You take your chance at finding out when Hoseok emerges, asking him if everything’s okay, if Jungkook is okay.

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Hoseok says, a half smile on display, something you’re only a tad familiar with. “He’ll manage.”

He rushes out, saying he has a meeting to get to, and you nod, glancing at the closed door and blocked window, wondering what troubles Jungkook is handling on his own. If it’s personal, it’s clearly not your business. But if it’s work-related, then it is. You’re there to make things easier for him, after all. You also don’t want to be surprised and be bombarded by new tasks just in case, so it’s better to know if there’s something you can help in resolving things as well.

You walk in his room then place the ginger lemon tea on his desk, a common home remedy for hangovers, just in case last night’s events are still affecting him. You inform him that you’ve sent the reports already for his sign-off, and he responds that he’ll get to them tomorrow.

Glancing at his drink, he halts his typing to look at you.

“Do I look hungover to you?” He asks pointedly.

It’s clearly not what you meant, but you suppose the insinuation isn’t what he needs right now. You want to be swallowed by the ground. He was already calm towards you, civil even, and now there’s another reason for him to be upset at you. You wanted to avoid any possibility of that as much as possible, and now you’re here, at the verge of being told off again, just because your stupid brain decided to care the tiniest bit.

“I, uh, no, Mr. Jeon,” you stutter. “I just…”

You don’t have a reason. Clearly, you can’t tell him that he hasn’t seemed okay all morning - whatever that means - and that just in case it’s last night’s alcohol affecting him, there’s a cure. You stare back at him with worry, but instead of challenging or questioning you, he just sits back with his eyes closed again and dismisses you.

“You may leave,” he instructs.

“What about lunch, sir?” You ask.

You’d never cared before, why the change now?

“I’m fine,” he responds. “Call me when the meeting’s about to start.”

Your stubborn self takes the box of biscuits from the coffee table and places it in front of him. You’re pushing it, you think, but there’s a meeting he’ll be leading and he can’t be unfocused; when he is, it’s all the worse for you.

He doesn’t react and you walk out. When you enter an hour later to call him, you spot the empty cup and the crumbs on the saucer, and you can’t help the tiny smile that you make internally.

It’s short-lived though, as that whole afternoon, he acts unusually - he barely makes comments at updates, he doesn’t make eye contact, and doesn’t ask further questions. He just nods when you say you’re heading out at 6PM, giving you no added tasks to keep you from leaving.

You enter his penthouse the next morning to the banging of leather hitting leather, prompting you to jerk from the loud sounds. He’s grunting and panting heavily, and you just know that whatever it was that transpired yesterday, he’s releasing all his emotions right now, through this.

He exits the gym and walks to the counter where you are, finishing the water you laid for him in three gulps.

“Do you need that tended to?” You ask.

He looks surprised. You gesture towards his hands and he looks at his bruised knuckles; he really let it all out this morning, it seems.

“I’m fine,” he shrugs.

You didn’t think those two words from him would ever make you feel discouraged, but one thing you’ve come to learn about Jungkook is that he easily expresses his anger and frustration towards other people. It’s when he keeps things in that they seem more serious, and you wonder what words he heard yesterday that might have made him this closed off, this quiet, this much more distant.

But fortunately, your feeling of worry fades with each day that passes, as he slowly returns to his normal self after - the focus, the perpetually serious look, the attention to detail, the sketching on his notebook. Perhaps Jungkook just needed a particular kind of release and he’s maybe handling things better now.

For his sake and yours, you wish the issue has been resolved, otherwise another blow up might happen and that wouldn’t be good for your newfound dynamic that’s a lot more civil than anything.

It’s Thursday when you get a call at 5 in the morning, just as you’ve woken up to get ready for work, and Mr. Ri’s voice greets you on the other end.

“Hi, ___. How are you this morning?”

“Hi, Mr. Ri,” you yawn, curious as to why he’s checking up on you this early. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he hums. “I was instructed by Mr. Jeon to pick you up today.”

“Why would CEO Jeon ask that?” You wonder, as you sleepily walk to the bathroom to wash up.

“He didn’t. Jungkook did.”

You stop on your tracks. You don’t recall being informed about this, nor do you know of any particular reason why you should be at his place so soon.

“Oh, uhm, okay. I should be ready in–”

“I’ll be there in about 50 minutes,” Mr. Ri interjects. “Sleep in a bit more and have some breakfast. I’ll see you shortly.”

You try not to think about what prompted Jungkook to have you picked up, so you focus on getting ready and then whipping yourself some fried rice using the leftover seafood from last night. You won’t lie, it tastes delicious. It might be that you just haven’t had proper weekday breakfast in a while, but it could also be that you’re energized enough and not pressed for time that you’re able to make this as good as it is.

You decide to bring some to Jungkook’s place just in case you get there late. Sure, Mr. Ri will be driving you, but you don’t know how the traffic is at this time, and this change in schedule is somewhat making you anxious. But then again, there’s always bread or cereal for him to eat; you just think that a little act of thanks wouldn’t be so bad.

Mr. Ri arrives exactly 50 minutes later and he assures you that he’ll get you to the penthouse in half an hour. You trust him of course; he’s been with the Jeons for decades and he knows these streets like the back of his hand. Seated in the passenger seat, you try to figure out what about today has got your boss a little kinder than usual.

“I arrived five minutes late yesterday,” you wonder out loud. “Is that why? He has a meeting with a local artist in the morning and he doesn’t want me to be late. That should be it. Ugh, stupid,” you groan. “I should’ve taken the first bus I saw, but it was so full and–”

“___,” Mr. Ri stops you. “Five minutes isn’t much. Plus, you always arrive 10 minutes before 6:30 and then just wait at the lobby. I don’t know why you do, you could always just go up to the penthouse when you get there, you know?”

“No, I don’t. Mr. Jeon has boundaries and clearly likes keeping his distance. Going to his penthouse before I’m supposed to be there feels like I’m intruding,” you argue.

“You’re literally his assistant, and you go to his bedroom and his closet, fix his things, prepare his meals… there’s no intrusion happening,” Mr. Ri counters. “I know the man. He’ll probably just look at you curiously then go about his routine.”

“Well, since you know him so well, then why did he have me picked up this morning?”

There’s a brief silence before the man next to you responds.

“He did note that you were late for the first time, but that wasn’t his issue,” Mr. Ri says, appeasing you before you react negatively and think that your tardiness was a big deal. “He asked if I knew how you got to Hoseok’s place before and I said you would just take the bus; it was closer to your place so it was fine. They have someone to make his breakfast, too, so you didn’t need to come early; plus, you only went every Monday.”

“What a change, huh?” You attempt to poke fun at yourself and the new arrangement you’re in.

Not that you’re complaining; you know of other executive assistants who do much more for their bosses and what you have with Jungkook isn’t even that bad. But it is quite the shift compared to what you did for Hoseok. You’ve figured out your own routine, though. And the commute isn’t always terrible, for as long as you’re not one of the unlucky ones, given the recent incidents.

“It’s quite the change. I don’t think he realized that until yesterday. He also asked me if I know if you eat properly in the morning. Maybe he thinks you don’t?”

“I’ve skipped meals…” you trail. “And well, I told him that I just eat crackers on the bus. Maybe he thinks I’m losing focus some days.”

“Maybe he’s just concerned.”

You snort at the absurdity of the statement.

Mr. Ri sighs. He knows that Jungkook hasn’t been his best self since he arrived in Seoul, and especially towards you. He’s noticed the young man’s indifference, the occasional passive remark, the frustrated looks, and the tension every morning. He’s noticed your faraway eyes, too, your constant anxiety, and unusual lack of confidence in your usual tasks, given that you look to be second-guessing everything you do.

As someone who’s worked for the Jeons for so long and who’d watched Jungkook grow up, he’s used to the detachment, but it was always because the young man often lived in his own head. There are always lots of thoughts and ideas, and lots of feelings he keeps bottled in.

But he’s also seen Jungkook’s kindness that he doesn’t always show, the guilt and anger that restrain him from expressing his emotions, and the care that he seems to put a brake on when he shows too much of it to someone, and so it isn’t much of a surprise to him to him when the young man gave this specific instruction to pick you up, not just today but everyday moving forward.

“The news on the radio reported on the robberies and complaints of sexual harassment against female commuters last night,” Mr. Ri continues. “They attack at any hour now. I’m sure that’s why. He wants me to drive you home everyday, too.”

“Mr. Ri, that’s too much,” you protest. “That’s not part of my contract and it isn’t his responsibility.”

“Maybe, precisely why I think he’s concerned. It isn’t about making sure you’re not late to work or anything. He’s worried that something might happen to you. And I agree. It isn’t safe, ___.”

“It’s not safe for me anywhere. I just… it’s too much,” you sigh. “I don’t need this kind of service. I’m not entitled to it.”

“He’ll insist though. Will you argue with him over your own security? I mean, it’s either this or he’ll pay for your driving lessons and then request for a car for you to use.”

You sigh, knowing he has a point. You don’t think you deserve it but you also can’t deny that the concern makes you feel a certain kind of way for him; gratitude, for one, and something else you can’t exactly name.

“Okay,” you say softly.

“Good. It’s about time he makes it up to you,” he chuckles. “Boy’s been a brat these past weeks. I wanted to just knock some sense into him.”

“Hmm, not like I expected any less,” you huff. “He just looked grumpy or disinterested during the times I’ve seen him before. Unhappy people like that aren’t always the kindest. Has he always been that way?”

“I wouldn’t say he has. I mean, he just wasn’t joyful or expressive, not like his brother. Jungkook liked to keep to himself; Hoseok often tried to push him out of his comfort zone but the boy wouldn’t really budge. I think as he grew up, that just amplified. People who prefer being alone have their reasons, don’t they?”

They do. You know this just like anyone, perhaps as much as Jungkook. It’s comfortable being alone; there’s no one to hurt you and no one you could hurt. You wonder if his reason is the same, and if, like you, he feels the loneliness creep in every once in a while.

You nod in silence and the conversation doesn’t continue until you arrive at Jungkook’s building. You have five minutes to get to his unit and you get there in three. When you enter, you hear grunting from the gym, and it’s shortly after when he exits and drinks the glass of water on the counter.

“What’s that?” He gestures at the plastic container next to you.

“It’s fried rice. I made it this morning because I had time to eat breakfast at home,” you say, softly smiling and then bowing at him to show your gratitude. Whatever his reason is, the act was appreciated.

“And you’re gonna eat again?”

“I was actually–”

You stop midway. You actually meant to serve it to him in case you arrived late, which you realize is pretty ridiculous.

“Actually what?” He asks, leaning forward on the counter now, with his bare arms from his tank top blinding you a little.

“I didn’t know what time I was gonna get here so I thought as a last resort, I’ll bring this to heat up and serve to you but then I realized that that’s pretty stupid because it’s leftovers and definitely not high-quality ingredients and it’s… just silly. Plus, you don’t eat rice in the morning.”

With his scrunched brows, he asks, “is it good?”

“It’s pretty delicious,” you say. “I mean, I liked it. I don’t know how sophisticated your palate is… Mr. Jeon.”

You smack yourself internally for rambling.

“What’s that got to do with anything? If it’s good, then it’s good.”

“I’m an ordinary person, Mr. Jeon. I have normal people’s taste buds.”

“So that makes me, what? Abnormal?”

“No… I–” you unknowingly pout. You shouldn’t have brought this in the first place.

Jungkook is disarmed again at the sight of your pouty face. If this is your way of thanking him for this morning, he’ll take it. The fact that you’d brought something you cooked from your own place to feed to him is already enough to make him feel hazy, which is why he needs to get away from you right away.

“Just heat it up. I’ll have that. There’s not much food in here anyway,” he says, walking away, leaving you no room to resist.

You do as you’re told, not wanting to overthink and change anything. You do check the cupboard and see a stashed pantry, and you wonder if he’d wanted to find something to criticize about your cooking, too.

He walks in and lets you fix his tie again, and for some reason, you feel more nervous than you normally do today. You sit and busy yourself with responding to emails as he eats his breakfast, careful not to look at him while he does.

“It’s good, a little better than how I do mine,” he says, surprising you.

“You cook?” You ask too quickly.

“Of course,” he frowns, looking a little offended. “I lived on my own for years. How do you think I survived?”

“Hiring people to do it for you,” you shrug.

Peeking at him once again, you see that he’s almost finished with the dish, and you can’t help the little smile on your face at the thought that he might actually enjoy it. It’s just fried rice, but you let yourself feel the shallow happiness from this. He’s at least not berating you or anything.

He finishes his meal as you go through yesterday’s meetings. There’s not much about the Arts Center he says, just like yesterday and the day before, and you start to wonder if the issue with his father has anything to do with that.

You let it go, opting to just follow his pace and let him talk about it when he’s ready, if he ever will be.

The morning goes by smoothly. Jungkook meets with Yoongi in his office then reviews the reports you’d sent last Monday. He sends you an email, saying that they’ve been approved and for you to attach his signature for sign-off and dissemination, leaving you perplexed at the lack of any other comments again.

He goes for a quick lunch at the dining hall while you eat a sandwich at the pantry, and not long after, you’re back in the car to head to Jungkook’s appointment with his best friend.

Kim Taehyung’s tailor shop boasts of classic European design. It’s elegant in all the ways that he is, as he stands by the desk in his working space, a smaller room on the mezzanine floor with an exquisite couch and displays of his work. He’s donned in an orange suit that you think only he can pull off, while his brother, Seokjin, sits on a chair in an impeccable black 3-piece.

You know as much that Jungkook grew up with both men, but while the brothers are often a hot topic on the news because of their wealth, their successful businesses, and colorful dating lives, you now wonder how Jungkook managed to stay out of the spotlight despite being a lot of the things that they are.

You bow at them after Jungkook introduces you as his assistant, and you’re surprised when Seokjin reaches out his hand to shake yours, bowing as well and offering you a kind smile. Taehyung does the same, and you can’t help but feel the warmth on your cheeks. They’re clearly incredibly handsome men with amazing styles, just like your boss, but they’re obviously respectful and gentle, unlike him.

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Cho,” Taehyung smiles. “So, what events do I need to dress my best friend for?”

He looks warm, friendly, and you can’t help but mirror his smile as he offers you a seat and some tea. You take out your calendar and enumerate at least three big events in the next months, which would require standout designs. Jungkook also wants four additional everyday classic suits, and Taehyung starts sketching on his pad as you speak.

“Make one for my event, too,” Seokjin says. “I’m launching my traditional alcohol brand in Singapore in September. It’ll be a big thing so Jungkook needs a fancy piece for that as well.”

“That soon?” Jungkook asks.

“Yeah, it got pushed early,” Seokjin replies.

Jungkook asks you to check his calendar for any activities in the Singapore office, and you state that there’s nothing scheduled during that time.

“There’s a landscape designer I want to meet while I’m there. Schedule one with her later,” Jungkook instructs you, and you make a note to coordinate with Lucas, who will continue to serve as the assigned assistant for the Vice President’s Southeast Asia trips.

Taehyung finishes the rough designs quickly, given that he’s already familiar with the style his client wants. He’s done a lot of Jungkook’s suits, which you know from all the weeks of preparing his clothes, and you do admit that he looks best in these custom-made pieces.

As Taehyung takes Jungkook’s measurements - given that, as per his words, Jungkook has gotten wider since the last time - he asks if you have something to wear for those big events, too.

“Uh, yes,” you say.

“Are they from company events from before?” Taehyung asks.

You nod shyly. It’s not like you’re paid enough to afford a new one every time nor can you wear them anywhere else; there aren’t exactly regular fancy dinners and social occasions you get invited to.

“Have new ones made, then,” Jungkook says, his back turned to you.

“Uh, there’s no need, Mr. Jeon. The gowns still look new and they’re well-made,” you insist.

“Store-bought?” Taehyung asks, his eyebrow cocked.

“Uh, yes, Mr. Kim.”

“Nothing beats custom-designed ones though. And I must say, I’m kinda good at them.”

“I, uh… it’s really not necessary,” you stutter, feeling a little too shy and definitely undeserving. It’s Kim Taehyung; his name is the brand.

“I believe it is,” Jungkook says now, turning to you. “They’re big events and we’re organizing one with the arts professionals. Some dignitaries will be coming, too, including the culture minister. I’d prefer if you looked the part of working for the Vice President, Ms. Cho. You represent me in that way.”

“I… uh, okay,” you sigh, knowing you don’t seem to be in a position to turn him down.

“Great. Start thinking of designs, then!” Taehyung beams.

It’s some minutes later when Jungkook’s measurements have been taken and Taehyung calls for you. You sit on the chair facing his desk not far away while Jungkook and Seokjin talk about sports and this new club that opened in Gangnam.

Seated in front of you, Taehyung takes his sketch pad and starts asking what design you want.

“Something simple and comfortable since I’ll be moving around,” you say softly. “And nothing form-fitting or revealing since, uh…”

“I understand,” Taehyung smiles, revealing a gentle side of him that the paparazzi and tabloids clearly don’t capture.

He starts drawing your silhouette, glancing at you then at Jungkook before speaking.

“So, he’s been in this role for a few weeks now. Has he been nice?”

“Define ‘nice,’” you respond, earning you a chuckle.

“I guess that’s my answer, then.”

“I don’t mean to say he isn’t,” you backtrack. “Mr. Jeon just has a different leadership style as Mr. Jung’s, that’s all.”

“I suppose that’s quite a difficult adjustment for you, huh?”

You purse your lips and Taehyung laughs, the soft way he does it is something new and refreshing to you. You didn’t realize how deprived you are of such gentleness, of such acts or sights as simple as a smile. Hoseok is no longer your source. Your team hasn’t been as jolly these past weeks. The only other person you talk to regularly at work is Yoongi, and while he’s definitely been smiling more, it’s a lot more teasing than it is comforting. You’ve been missing your best friends more because of that, you think - Soomin’s smile is blinding, Jimin’s is sweet and infectious. Perhaps it’s why you haven’t been smiling much yourself.

“I won’t tell, don’t worry,” Taehyung assures you. “I just wanted to check on him. This whole move has been tough but he doesn’t say much. I’m guessing he doesn’t tell you, either, but he’ll definitely show it.”

“He has, actually,” you say softly, knowing now that even with his closest friends, Jungkook tends to keep things to himself. “He’s pretty stressed most days, always working and stuff. He’s been a little hard on me but I guess that’s a natural reaction for some.”

“That’s not an excuse though.”

“It isn’t, but… it’s okay. I can handle it.”

It’s not as much of a lie anymore as it used to be. Jungkook hasn’t been overly critical about things as he was just last week. He rarely makes comments on your minutes now, doesn’t correct the reports you reviewed, doesn’t talk over you or doesn’t yell. There’s been a change, definitely, and you wonder what triggered it.

“He doesn’t really smile, does he?” You ask, your curiosity getting the better of you.

Taehyung’s laughter is one of disbelief and pure amusement, catching the attention of the other two men but he waves them off.

“He still does, just not as much,” he responds. “It kinda stopped after the breakup with Chaerin but I guess that’s what heartbreak does, right?”

“I… wouldn’t know. I’ve never experienced it,” you shrug.

“Lucky,” he hums. “I don’t wish it on anyone.”

You glance at Jungkook, briefly letting yourself imagine a version of him that’s a lot more carefree, relaxed, perhaps happy. Maybe it’s the loneliness and that you’d understand; that, you’ve experienced. It’s both liberating and isolating. You wonder if that’s how he’s been feeling all these years since then.

“I’m done,” Taehyung announces, showing you three designs that are exactly what you asked for.

“These look nice. And way out of my price range,” you laugh.

“Perks of having a rich boss,” he winks. “I don’t want you to worry about anything, okay? You’re my client and I want you to wear these with confidence. Now, if you’re okay with all this, I’ll get one of my female assistants to get your measurements.”

You nod in response. There’s absolutely nothing you would change about those designs. And if you’re being honest, you now can’t wait for those events just so you could wear them. Hoseok had obviously paid for the gowns you had to wear for the big events, but those were store-bought that A-yeong helped you choose. Some were your own purchases, but this is the first time that you’re getting measured for custom-made clothing designed by Kim Taehyung.

You walk towards the fitting room at the corner where one of his staff meets you. She’s meticulous, which is why it takes longer than usual just to get this done. With her silence, however, you’re able to hear the conversation happening outside, with the brothers now asking Jungkook about the same thing you’ve been wondering about.

“By the way, what was up with you last Monday?” Seokjin asks. “I thought that was gonna be night 4 of you going home with a new woman. But you passed out before you could even ask. And that was just 9PM.”

“Four nights isn’t much, though,” Taehyung laughs. “Didn’t he do that with seven women on seven straight nights when he was in Singapore? That was wild. Was it that stressful there? Or were there just so many to choose from?”

“Shut up. I’m not proud of that,” Jungkook groans. “And that was one time. It never happened again.”

“It never happened seven times straight again,” Seokjin corrects. “You were really living your life out there, huh? Stressful job, a rooftop bar in your apartment building, chauffeur and butler services 24/7, women from all over the world begging to sleep with you…”

“It’s called the post-break up stage,” Taehyung says.

“For six years?!” Seokjin asks incredulously. “It’s either you loved Chaerin that much, you blamed yourself too much, or you just really sucked at moving on.”

“I vote all of the above,” Taehyung states.

“Me, too,” Seokjin claims.

“Fuck you both,” Jungkook groans again.

“I think he also just missed us too much,” Seokjin adds. “Lucas was cleaning up your messes every time, not snapping you out of it. But we’re here now so I guess three straight nights is as far as you’ll go.”

“Two, if you stopped me last Sunday,” Jungkook points out. “You both always insisted that Sundays are a no-no. You were too busy with your own women.”

“May we remind you that you didn’t even make it to our table. You stepped foot in the bar then left five minutes later,” Taehyung says. “But really, what was it about Monday? You seemed angrier than usual.”

“Just… a bunch of things my father said,” Jungkook huffs.

“Did he tell you off again?”

“Not really, surprisingly. He just delivered a message basically, about what the board members were saying about me and my project. Bullshit stuff, you know? I just wanted to forget about it.”

“Did you?”

“Sorta,” Jungkook says. “I still don’t want to talk about it.”

“But it’s still happening, right?” Taehyung asks worriedly. “The Arts Center, I mean. You’ve been wanting to work on that since the building was abandoned five years ago.”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook responds. “I guess. We already put money into it. I’ll just have to make concessions if my father doesn’t side with me on this. I hate to think he’s buying into what those old folks are saying.”

“Ms. Cho, we’re all done,” the staff member tells you, muffling the conversation outside that you couldn’t help but hear.

It felt quite intrusive, hearing how life was like for Jungkook in Singapore, but then again, his personal life seemed to be the topic in the office comfort rooms, and you don’t know how to feel about getting confirmation about those rumors. It felt sad more than anything though, living that kind of life away from friends and family. You wouldn’t know what moving on from a breakup feels like, but you suppose people grieve a lost love in their own ways; you can’t blame them for how they choose to repair the parts of them that broke.

But the bit about his conversation with his father is what bothers you. You’d hate to think that there’s a possibility that Jungkook’s plans won’t be fully realized, and whatever the reasons for that are, you hope they didn’t break his spirit too much. You know the plans now like the back of your hand and the more you learn, the more you believe in it. You hope Jungkook continues to believe in it, too.

You exit the fitting room, catching the end of a conversation where Seokjin suggests a wholesome weekend for the three men of just dinner and drinks. The two other men agree, and they all turn to you once you make your presence felt.

“All good?” Taehyung asks you.

“Yes,” you bow in thanks.

“Great. The gowns will be ready at the same time as Jungkook’s suits will be. I’ll just let you guys know, okay?

“Sure,” Jungkook says. “But anyway, we have to get back to work. Thanks again.”

The brothers bid you and Jungkook goodbye, and you head back to the office with not much words said. Jungkook seems less frustrated, but the worry you feel suddenly returns. It’s the thought that maybe he doesn’t feel supported, that maybe what he’s doing isn’t enough, and that more than that, it's him choosing to deal with all this on his own, not even looking to his friends to comfort him.

Jimin and Soomin meet you for lunch at a restaurant that Saturday afternoon. The drive from Busan took longer than expected, they said, but you say you don’t mind. They’re visiting you like they always do every month, regardless of how busy they are back in their hometown, which was your home for a few years, too.

You were in the same class; your mom worked at the school, which was the only reason why you were able to attend a prestigious one in the first place. Even when you moved back to Daegu, you remained in touch with them. Despite the distance, none of you wanted to just let the friendship fade, and even when they had to stay back and you made a life out here in Seoul, they made sure to visit you as much as they could.

They’re why you were excited for the weekend to come and now, you’ll be enjoying a hearty meal, getting your nails done after, lounging at your apartment, and then heading to a club for a night out, which you only do whenever they’re around.

“So, has the boss situation improved?” Soomin asks, her eyes soft and laced with worry “Or should I storm the jerk’s house and give him a piece of my mind?”

“It has,” you chuckle. “So no need to call him names or fight anyone. I’m okay.”

“Well, you did call him a grumpy old grinch with nice hair the other week,” Jimin points out. “So… did he get a haircut?”

“No,” you laugh again. “And that was in the heat of the moment. I… I mean, he’s still grumpy but he’s not… as grumpy or unbearable. He’s been—”

“Oh hun, please don’t say he’s been kind and then give him a pass for how he’s been to you,” Soomin reprimands. “Mean people don’t just become nice all of a sudden. And if they do, that’s a controlling tactic - they want you to think they’re capable of change so you’ll soften up to them and then give them a pass every time they do asshole-y things again.”

“You watch too many shows,” you frown, although knowing her statement isn’t wrong; it’s just not something you can relate with Jungkook.

Sure, he hasn’t been the nicest, but he also hasn’t been the meanest. He’s just been… him, you suppose - a bit in the middle; frustrated at worst, quiet at best, stoic on most days. He does seem to live in his head a lot, and while you won’t go so far as characterizing him as kind, he definitely hasn’t been insufferable these past few days.

“I’ve just dealt with too many assholes, ___,” Soomin corrects. “They’re all the same. Men are shit.”

“Except for Jimin,” you correct.

“Except for Jimin,” she concurs.

“I accept the honor,” he bows. “But seriously, ___. How has it been? You… you seemed really sad last week and I would’ve driven here then if we didn’t have that work emergency.”

“I’m okay, I mean it. I’ve experienced worse,” you try to assure them.

“You do know that having experienced something worse doesn’t mean it’s fine for you to experience something bad again, right?” Soomin points out.

“I know, but it also means that I know my threshold for bad behavior,” you say. “Jungkook was in a lot of stress and I did mess up. But I think he’s making up for that.”

“By apologizing, you mean?” Soomin cocks an eyebrow.

Your sigh tells her that’s definitely not what Jungkook has done.

“Well, he approves my minutes and reviewed reports much quicker,” you reason. “And he doesn’t comment as much. But actually, I think he just pities me. And that’s worse.”

“Why would he pity you?” She asks.

“I don’t know. Maybe because I said that a tree fell on our roof and that mom got injured the weekend before my mishap,” you explain. “And then he found out how early I start my day just so I can get to him on time. He’s made adjustments after those and I… I think he’s guilty or something. And he’s just not being his usual angry self around me to make it up to me.”

“So in short, he’s still kind of an asshole,” Soomin says, prompting Jimin to snort and you to pout. “He could always just apologize if he’s guilty and realized he should treat you better.”

“Some things aren’t easy for other people to say, you know?” You say softly.

“That’s not an excuse,” she points out.

“It’s an explanation,” you counter. “Or one of them, I guess. I don’t know him well enough, but it’s better to think that he’s a decent person who just struggles with emotions than someone who willingly makes people’s lives difficult. I mean, that’s easier to manage and accept.”

“If that helps you deal and he’s indeed improving, then maybe I won’t have to storm his place then,” she smiles, taking your hand and kissing it as she likes to do.

She knows your habit of pressing your nails onto your skin, and she always said she likes to remind you that you deserve gentleness, too; she’ll give it if you can’t give it to yourself.

The rest of the afternoon goes as you planned, with all the banter you’d expect from your best friends amid the pampering and then the chick flick in the background as you get ready in your tiny apartment.

You smile at your reflection in the mirror. The high-waist trousers and sleeveless top ensemble is a refreshing sight for you, as you only really dress up like this for a night out. You’re in your usual pencil skirts and blouses otherwise, and in jeans and tops or oversized jumpers on a normal day.

Soomin’s done your makeup and Jimin compliments you as he looks on, and soon enough, they’re ready as well to head out.

“Where’re we going?” You ask from the passenger seat as Jimin navigates the busy streets of Seoul on a Saturday night.

“Some new restaurant the guys discovered,” Soomin responds. “I think it’s not far from here.”

“Okay, good. Hajoon’s been texting, asking what time we’ll get there,” you tell them.

“Geez, you were already with him last night. Tell him to be patient,” Jimin rolls his eyes.

Soomin laughs from the backseat as she teases that he’s just being jealous, to which he points out that he just hasn’t seen you in a while so the man can wait. And you assure Jimin that you’d gladly skip a night with Hajoon to be with your best friends, no questions asked.

You get there eventually, and you immediately spot the group because of the laughter coming from their table. There are four men; the two women are Soomin’s friends, which is how you got involved with Hajoon in the first place. You met some time last year and you’ve been hanging out with him since then - among other things - and you’ve been enjoying it, given the simplicity and lack of drama when he’s not being moody. He’s a warm body who knows how to use it and you’re a good type of relief, as he’d said; there’s really not much more you need as you just try to survive through life and make something out of yourself in however way you can.

Hajoon waves at you from his seat, gesturing to his left to say he’s saved that spot for you. You head there after greeting your other friends, with Jimin and Soomin following you.

Right as you sit down and greet the man next to you, you’re caught by surprise when he kisses your cheek and snakes his arm around your waist.

“Hey, I missed you today,” Hajoon hums, smiling at you the way he did last night and this morning; it definitely wasn’t this sweet when he left for a work trip last month.

“I… saw you today,” you frown, earning you a chuckle.

“I know; I was still thinking about you, though,” he says.

You give a smile - as genuine as you can make it - and then turn towards your friends to your left who are trying to hold in their laughter.

You order a beer after he offers you a glass of wine, and then go for the pork belly when he says the salmon here is good.

“Just craving for meat, that’s all,” you tell him.

“Is there anything else you want? Just let me know, okay?”

You hum your yes and then turn back to your friends after Hajoon makes jokes with his.

“Since when was he this sweet to you?” Soomin whispers with wide, curious eyes.

“Since never,” you reply. “I mean, we’ve never been affectionate outside of bed…”

“Is anything else different?” Jimin wonders, careful not to bring attention to your conversation.

You look back at how things were before Hajoon left and how it was when he was away. Nothing seemed different. You hung out at his place before he flew out, then you messaged each other every now and then during the one month he was abroad. He was more interested to talk, but given the time difference and the pressure and stress you’ve been under the past weeks, you didn’t bother much, neither did he.

But you also think back to last night - how he picked you up from your apartment, which he’s never done before, and how he prepared a luxurious dinner. He made you breakfast this morning, too, whereas you both usually just sleep in in tangled limbs and then separate once you wake up.

“He cooked me fancy stuff but I just thought he wanted to show off what he learned during his cooking masterclass,” you shrug. “And well… he seemed sweeter than normal.”

“Maybe he hooked up with someone while he was away and he’s guilty about it,” Jimin suggests.

“He didn’t say anything about it and he knows I wouldn’t mind,” you say. “We’re not exclusive, even if I don’t hang out with other guys.”

“Maybe he’s over the fucking and wants to do the loving bit now,” Soomin offers. “I mean, he always seemed more into you than you were into him.”

“He’s hot and decent when he’s in a good mood; that’s all I need,” you admit.

“But honestly, that’s probably it,” Soomin continues. “I think he’s hinting that he wants to be more.”

“But I don’t want to,” you whine. “I’m not ready.”

“You’re 30! When are you ever gonna be ready?” Soomin whisper-yells.

“Never!” You pout now. “I mean… Not with him.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to tell him soon, then,” Jimin sighs. “Before it gets messy. And you hate messy.”

“What if men just don’t have feelings?” Soomin wonders out loud. “That way, you can’t hurt them.”

“So that way, they can hurt you?” Jimin points out. “No. I’m not letting any men hurt either one of you, okay? I love you both too much.”

“We know,” you and Soomin say at the same time.

“But I agree with Jimin, ___. You’re gonna have to let that man next to you, who’s thankfully deaf, go. And then just find another person who can give you what you need,” Soomin continues. “Like, uh…”

She looks around the semi-packed restaurant to find some random man to just point to, her eyes widening in awe as she spots a table close by with the type of men she was just thinking about.

“Like them.”

You laugh at her, not taking her seriously, but still, you look towards the direction of her cocked head, only to feel your throat dry up and your heartbeat speed up. Your eyes widen in reflex as they meet the piercing gaze of the man who’d given you a headache for weeks. He also happens to look unfairly handsome in his white top and slicked back hair.

“Shit, I would totally go for them,” Soomin adds, “and I only even like men a quarter of the time.”

Your best friends look at you as they wait for a response, only to see a nervous look on your face, as if you’re seeing a ghost or something, and the way you turn to them and stutter almost seems like you are.

From the other table, Jungkook pants quietly. You finally looked his way, and he didn’t know what to expect your reaction to be - maybe a bit of shock, but definitely not this worried. Granted, you’re out with your friends at a restaurant that he and his friends frequent. It’s not the type of place they’d normally go for - this is a lot simpler, less private, and more accommodating than the exclusive restaurants and hotels they go to for dinners before heading to a club. But Jungkook loves their pork belly; he orders it every week, and tonight, he was craving for this specifically before going to a private party of one of Taehyung’s clients.

Jungkook had seen you when you sat down, and he’d been taken aback when the guy to your right immediately kissed your cheek; it seems he’s barely let go of your waist since then, too. Perhaps the man is your boyfriend - and Jungkook doesn’t know what made him think you wouldn’t have one - but it also seems that the one to your left is into you, too, at least based on how he smiles at you sweetly but rolls his eyes at the affectionate guy to your other side.

But other than the embarrassing obvious affection that both of them are directing at you, what made him lose his senses is how you look, and you’re even more beautiful than he imagined. Your hair is styled, your makeup is bolder than usual, and he won’t even start with how you’re dressed. It’s a lot more skin than he’s used to - you’re out, after all, and if he’ll go by what your companions are wearing, he supposes this is your stop before heading to some club to party, too. Whereas when you’re at work, you have the skirt and long-sleeved blouse ensemble that you wear everyday - still pretty, perhaps just a lot more reserved than what he’s seeing now.

He can’t take his eyes off you, even as you entertain your suppose-boyfriend, even when you engage in hushed conversation with the man and woman to your left, and even when you stare back at him, the initial shock now wearing down to a look of curiosity. Perhaps you’re wondering why he keeps glancing at you, too.

“I told you he’s got it bad,” Taehyung laughs from the other side of the table.

He’s noticed how his friend hasn’t said much in the last 10 minutes, his gaze directed at the loud table close by. One glance and Taehyung knew why.

“Well, we told him,” Seokjin corrects. “He only ever acts out when he’s threatened and he’s apparently threatened by his pretty assistant.”

“I’m not acting out,” Jungkook scowls, finally breaking the staring contest with you.

“You’ve never been this much of a jerk,” Seokjin says. “So yes, you’re acting out.”

Jungkook ignores them, his eyes turning back to you, and finds you downing two shots of tequila consecutively, then using the beer as your chaser. His knuckles unconsciously clench when your suppose-boyfriend scoots closer, whispering something in your ear, his lips grazing your skin.

Jungkook exhales deeply, trying to get a grip of himself. He’s acting foolishly. You obviously have a life outside of work, and it obviously includes going out for dinner and drinks with friends, having a boyfriend, and enjoying your youth the way he is. There’s a world outside of the routine you’ve both created, of the silence you both share, and the time you spend together, unknowingly learning about each other without meaning to, without wanting to.

“___,” Soomin calls your name one more time.

“Huh?” You answer, finally tearing your eyes away from Jungkook, who’d unfortunately captured your attention after you noticed he was there.

You’ve been used to his impeccable looks in his fancy suits; you’ve even gotten used to his tank top and sweatpants post-workout outfits every morning, and while you’re still not immune to that look, his night out wear fit for a party leaves you more choked up than normal.

Maybe it’s the black jeans that you spot as he sits on the edge of the couch, or the white button-up top with the rolled sleeves up to his elbow, or his haircut that makes him look a little more mature. Maybe it’s all that and the way he’s gazing at you, the look in his eyes something you can’t quite read. Perhaps like you, he’s surprised to see you here the way you’re shocked that he’d chosen this place to eat; it’s not exactly a fancy restaurant you know he likes eating at.

But he’s here, and so are you, and suddenly you feel exposed, as if the world outside of work that you’ve kept to yourself is baring open to the man who stands at the center of what you do everyday. And you’re not sure how you feel about that.

“I was just saying… those men are pretty hot and they look interested, too,” Soomin wiggles her eyebrows. “ I mean, they keep looking here.”

“One of them is my boss,” you finally say. “Guy on the right. That’s… uh, that’s Jungkook.”

“Holy fuck, hun,” Soomin chokes on her drink. “Why did you leave out the part about your rude boss being a fucking god?”

“Does it matter?” Jimin scowls. “He’s still rude.”

“It’s different when the guy’s hot. It makes the anger more intense, you know?” Soomin says. “Attractive people elicit more passionate feelings sometimes.”

“Excuse me, that’s not why I was angry,” you pout. “He was really being unfair.”

“Well, he was. But I think my point also applies,” Soomin argues. “I’d just like to warn you that workplace hotties are a menace. Except for Yoongi - he was heaven sent. ”

“Ah, the man who could’ve been,” Jimin sighs. “We at least knew he wouldn’t hurt you. He didn’t seem like the type.”

“Yeah, this dude over here is hot but he’s mean. And that’s your type,” Soomin smirks.

“Can we… not talk about this while he’s there? And while this other dude is right next to me?” You glare at your friends, especially at Soomin whose insinuation wasn’t lost on you. “It’s so… weird.”

“Hey, we’re here for you, okay?” Jimin softens as he looks at you. “Just let us know if one of them makes you feel uncomfortable. We can always just stay at your place and watch horror movies until morning and you and Soomin can lose your voices from screaming and then I’ll lose my hearing because of it.”

His words make you laugh. There’s a tenderness in Jimin that you’ve never heard from anyone else before. Even when he’s telling you to stop yelling because you live for the thrill of a jumpscare, he says it so tenderly while laughing before pulling you both in his embrace.

“I’m okay. I’m just… I don’t know, probably just not used to seeing him somewhere that isn’t the office or his home,” you reason. “And I feel a bit exposed, I guess. This is my world and his is… right there.”

You wrap your arms around your body subconsciously, realizing only you’d done it when Jimin asks if you’re cold, offering his jacket then taking it back because Hajoon might smack him or something.

You turn it down, knowing you actually feel hot more than anything. You’re dressed up and definitely dressed in less, and somehow having Jungkook see you like this is oddly making you shy, perhaps a little too conscious.

“Just don’t mind him,” Soomin advises. “It’s a restaurant. You obviously have a social life and he can’t fault you for it, nor make you feel weird about it. Just focus on us, okay? Or on Hajoon, if that’ll happen.”

You follow her words and try to block out Jungkook. You do slightly nod at him, as well as at Taehyung and Seokjin just to acknowledge their presence, but you continue on with your meal, as the dishes arrive soon after.

The pork belly is a winner; you’ll probably come back here for that alone. You do manage to dodge Hajoon’s attempts at feeding you, and your other friends engage with the three of you at the other end of the table. It’s going well for the most part, until Hajoon starts to act a little wary, a little tense.

“Hey,” he says, leaning close to you. “The guy on the other table has been looking at you all night. It’s kinda annoying.”

You glance at Jungkook’s table and he looks away when you do. “Oh, just don’t mind him,” you wave Hajoon off. “Maybe I remind him of someone or something.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you feel him tense even more, as you look up and see that he’s staring down the man on the other side. Hajoon’s had a bit to drink, and you know he tends to be cocky and irrational when he is. You groan once he shakes his head, saying he’s gonna give “that stranger” a piece of his mind because “he can’t be looking at my girl like that.”

The initial annoyance you feel turns into panic once he stands from his seat and storms to the other table. You follow him, with your friends just looking in worry. His friends are more encouraging of what he wants to do though.

“What the fuck is your problem staring at my girl like that?” Hajoon mumbles, acting all tough when he’s never threatened nor confronted anyone like this, even when he’s drunk.

Jungkook seems taken aback. Perhaps it’s the aggression he didn’t expect, or maybe it’s finally having to acknowledge your presence in the restaurant, just in an unfortunate way.

“Your girl?” He scoffs.

The way the man is speaking to him is quite annoying, but he also knows your boyfriend is slightly drunk, so he dismisses him because Jungkook doesn’t need this drama tonight, especially not in front of you.

Hajoon hates the way this stranger is looking at him and not taking him seriously. He’d seen how he kept glancing at you, perhaps trying to get your attention away from him, and he’s really had enough. His words are slurring but this is the courage he needs to stand up for you. You’ve said before how unwanted attention makes you uncomfortable, and he’s gonna do something about it before the man gets to try anything with you.

“Yeah, my girl. You seem to have a problem with that, don’t you?” Hajoon grunts.

“My only problem is you making a scene right now,” Jungkook shakes his head. “You’re drunk and insecure and you’re embarrassing yourself in front of your girl.”

Not that you expected him to back off, but you didn’t actually think that Jungkook would further press Hajoon’s buttons. The man is drunk and insecure and indeed embarrassing, but getting told so is a blow to the ego, especially in your presence. And so you’re not surprised that this just makes him angrier, and since you’ve never dealt with this version of him before, you don’t know how to pacify him.

You didn’t actually think that Hajoon had a daring bone in his body despite being the way he is, but when he attempts to lunge at Jungkook, you’re left in disbelief. You’re quick enough to pull Hajoon back before he lands a fist on the other man’s face, but he’d been worked up enough that he hits the glass of wine on the table, knocking it over and causing the drink to spill on Jungkook’s thin white top.

“Mr. Jeon!” You shriek, pulling Hajoon back more forcefully before pushing him to the side so you can get ahead.

You take the napkin from the table and wipe Jungkook’s wet clothed torso, slowing down immediately as you realize what exactly it is you’re doing.

“I… uh,” you stutter, standing straight up and mirroring his questioning eyes.

It was a reflex for you, considering that you constantly make sure that he’s dressed impeccably.

“You know him?!” Hajoon asks in disbelief, tugging on your hand now so you’ll turn to him.

“He’s my boss, you idiot!” smacking him on the chest as you glare at him. “And you just put my job in jeopardy and for what?”

“Well, what can he do?” Hajoon challenges. “Get you fired because of me? Does he own the company and shit?”

“My father does,” Jungkook responds. “And I’m the Vice President.”

Hajoon just rolls his eyes but you aren’t amused. You glance at your table and gesture for one of his friends to take him, so one of them does. He stands up and pulls Hajoon away before he can do or say anything else.

“I’m so, so sorry, Mr. Jeon,” you say, your head bowed down as you apologize. “I…”

The mess on his outfit is too much; the red has stained the white top and you know he feels sticky. He looks like he has somewhere to go after this and that makes it worse.

“I– I can call Mr. Ri to get the car in here. I can get extra clothes from your travel bag,” you say, knowing that Jungkook always has a bag filled with clothes for emergency flights or check-ins.

You get your phone and make a call, telling Jungkook that his chauffeur will be here soon. You glance towards your friends who are still pacifying a drunk Hajoon, and you decide that they can handle all that. Right now, your priority is Jungkook.

You walk out towards the car that’s on hazard mode outside the restaurant and pick out the top that’s most appropriate for a night out, which happens to be a semi-loose black button-up. You head back inside, with Taehyung and Seokjin informing you that Jungkook has gone to the washroom, so you scurry towards there and knock at the door.

“Mr. Jeon, I have your black long sleeves here,” you say as your knuckles tap on the wood. “Just tell me–”

You’re interrupted by the sudden opening of the door, the sight of Jungkook in his jeans hanging by his waist and his unbuttoned white top catching you by surprise. His hair’s a bit damp and so is his bare torso, as you see that he’s tried to clean the wine off his body.

You catch yourself looking longer than you should, and you immediately look away as you hand him over what he needs.

“Please let me know what else you need, sir,” you say, your eyes glued to the pretty wallpaper as you awkwardly stand outside the washroom.

“Jungkook,” he says, earning him a curious look. “I mean, you don’t need to be formal. We’re not at work.”

You nod, realizing it does sound weird to address him as such in a casual setting.

“Okay… Jungkook,” you mumble, but even the way it rolls off your tongue is a bit odd. You’re not used to it, and you hope you won’t ever be.

He closes the door and you take this time to calm yourself down. You’ve been so worried since you saw the glass tip over and mess up his outfit, and given his hot-headedness, you’re a little surprised that he didn’t fight back. He does have a reputation to uphold but even then, stopping himself from punching Hajoon must’ve taken a lot.

The door opens and you sigh in relief; his outfit still looks good and he’s fully clothed, so there’s no lingering looks this time anymore. You take the top that he gives you, and you take the chance to apologize.

“I’m so sorry,” you start. “I don’t know why he— I mean, he’s a bit drunk and he’s not usually like this.”

“You’re not the one who should apologize so don’t,” he responds.

“Well, he won’t apologize so I will.”

“You didn’t spill the drink and you didn’t come at me. That was him,” he counters.

You just shrug, choosing to just concede. “I’ll just return this to Mr. Ri.”

He calls your name before you turn around to leave.

“I didn’t mean to cause a rift between you and your boyfriend,” he says, much too low and too gentle than you’re used to. “I hope I didn’t ruin anything.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you answer softly. “We just, uh, we just hang out.”

You don’t know why you feel the need to correct this misinformation. Maybe you just want to remind yourself because you’re not anyone’s anything; hearing Hajoon claim you as yours made you want to just create that distance even more.

Jungkook wants to push it, to ask more. The man clearly acts like he’s your lover, given the physical affection and the way he tried to stand up for you. But there’s a bit of shame as you state that you and the man “just hang out,” and there’s that wonder he feels - how can you be with someone without being with them, and if turning away people who are clearly into you is a tendency you have. There’s Min Yoongi, after all, who’d liked you enough to remain as your friend when you needed one despite how he felt.

“Okay then,” Jungkook nods. “And your job’s not in jeopardy. Don’t take responsibility for a stupid act you didn’t do.”

You bow in thanks, not much used to this side of him that’s understanding and even calm. You suppose he’d seen you worry about your job, had seen you look embarrassed over something that you didn’t even do, and perhaps he saw the discomfort over how Hajoon was talking about you.

You’re about to walk out of the hallway when his call of your name stops you again, prompting you to turn around.

“About earlier… did I… did I make you feel uncomfortable?” He asks, the worry in his voice surprising you.

You debate over playing it down or telling the truth, but you go with the latter.

“A… a little,” you admit, looking away.

You hear him sigh, and there’s a look of guilt in his eyes as you turn to him.

“I’m so—”

The footsteps of another diner in the hallway disrupts him, and you both make way so he can use the washroom, too. Perhaps you and Jungkook had taken so long, and you don’t want others to conspire about what’s happening, so you walk out and tell him again that you’ll just return his clothing to Mr. Ri.

From your table, Soomin and Jimin watch the awkwardness of your parting of ways, with you scurrying out the door and Jungkook returning to his seat with a deep sigh before glaring at Hajoon.

“He does sound and look like an asshole, aside from being hot,” Soomin observes. “That’s totally ___’s type.”

“Are you saying she likes her boss?” Jimin asks incredulously.

“I’m just saying that’s her type, not that she likes him,” Soomin corrects. “There’s a difference. I still hate him for making things hard for her. I wish he would stop treating her like that. You and I know she won’t quit anytime soon. Especially because he’s a Jeon.”

“I know,” Jimin sighs. “I wish we could protect her from all this, too. But she’s always done what she wanted to do. And we wait for her to tell us when things are hard; we just hold her hand whenever it is.”

“That’s all we can do, I guess,” Soomin responds. “Sometimes though I wish she’d just… let someone else do more than just hold her hand, you know? It could’ve been Yoongi, or even Hajoon before all this mess. It could’ve been you.”

“You know that’ll never happen,” Jimin laughs bitterly, with Soomin knowing exactly what he means. “You’re only ever just her friend or her lover; you can’t be both.”

Soomin hums in agreement, as she’d seen you draw the line with the men you’d come across with. You’d make it clear if friendship is all you want; you’d be straightforward if it’s just sex you’re seeking. You give either just your heart or your body and you’re always careful not to give both. There are parts of you that you don’t want to share, that you don’t want to expose to them; there’s a kind of hurt that you don’t want to experience.

They watch you walk back inside and then head to their table, where you sit next to a buzzed Hajoon who still has half a mind to look at you guiltily.

“I think I’ll head back home after this,” you tell the group. “Kinda not in a partying mood anymore.”

Your other friends apologize on Hajoon’s behalf, proceeding to ask you if that was really your boss and if he’d threatened your job because of it, remarking that it would be such an asshole move of him to do that or to even get mad at you for something you didn’t do.

You come to Jungkook’s defense; he didn’t say anything to that effect at all. Perhaps you’d been the unfair one who assumed that he would - that he’d demand that you apologize, that he’d use this against you.

“He’s… not like that,” you say, meaning it. You turn to your best friends who have disagreeing looks. “He… he tried to apologize for making me feel uncomfortable,” you say softly. “No one’s ever done that before.”

“Look, ___,” Hajoon starts, but you cut him off.

“I don’t really wanna talk about it,” you sigh. “I’ll just pay my bill and head out.”

You, Soomin, and Jimin all pay accordingly and then leave the restaurant, with you turning to Jungkook and his friends, bowing as a form of goodbye.

“Hey, why don’t we buy desserts at a convenience store and have our own party at your place?” Jimin suggests as you all settle in his car.

“That would be nice,” you hum. “This outfit wouldn’t be such a waste then.”

So that’s what you do, as your best friends treat you to all the snacks you love - a usual occurrence, really, as they used to do that back in Busan to cheer you up during the days when you were feeling sad. It’s one of the things that you allow them to spoil you with and they take advantage of that, as you go home with weeks’ worth of goods for you to enjoy.

You also picked up some drinks on the way, so you play some music and dance around with your wine glasses and take shots in between. It’s too early to be drunk but 11PM might as well be 3AM. You’re all seated snugly in your tiny couch as you watch some variety show on mute, laughing at the hosts' antics even if you can’t hear anything.

“Tonight wasn’t so bad,” you huff, leaning on Soomin’s shoulder as you doze off. “Both of you are all I need. Thank you for never disappointing me.”

They know you don’t always let yourself be this sentimental. They also know that when you do, all you want is for them to listen and to hold you. And that’s what they do, as you eventually clean up and fall asleep on the mattress with them, the events from earlier slowly fading away.

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kithtaehyung · 5 months

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broken, pt. 1 (3tan) | myg

title: broken (pt. 1) pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series:masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: chilling conversations prolong things even further… until everything goes to hell. note: this is only one half of what was supposed to be a whole chapter! broken, pt. 2 will come out after i've had time to make it something i'm proud of. trying to rush everything out didn't do any favors, so hilariously and ironically, broken is broken up into two hahaha. warnings: language, angst, tension, yoongi’s pov is longgg, alcohol consumption, tobacco mentions, bro🥲, yoongi in the studio😩, the studio boys make another appearance👀, …someone else makes their first appearance👀👀, scuffles, tense situations, did i say angst?, water bottles get their own warning, long hair yoongi, basketball yoongi🫠, crying, bro a ha ha, jimin has tats and he’s not afraid to show them, the chains stay on(???), …bad boy yoongi😀👍, honestly he is on another level of warning here don’t perceive me💀, the fluff is fluffing here like what, backstory we’ve been waiting for😗, yoongi on the phone, hand holding :’)), kissing :’)), oh god the kissing❤️‍🩹, there’s just a lot in both parts i'm sorry y'all playlist: broken (lp) drop date: dec 3rd, 2023, 4:00pm est word count: ...19.1k 🚶‍♀️

Words abandon you.

They stand far from your form, pitying observers of your decaying state in front of the man you’ve been lying to. At once, you feel completely alone, not even Yoongi’s lingering presence helping when those eyes are piercing through time and space. Everything you’ve experienced over the past two years slings across your vision, from the first time you left your house in the pouring rain to get to Yoongi’s, to the car ride back you just took with his kiss still on your lips.

All of those moments shattering into dust around your heels.

Your feet make lines in them when you move to close the front door, something leaving your mouth before you can judge if it makes sense, “About what?”

Zero sense. Absolute zero sense. Which your brother has absolute zero patience for. The drone in his question hits you like a punch to the gut, “Really.”

“Just out late, is all,” you grumble, trying your best to not acknowledge an atmosphere so tense it’s almost crowded. “Jimin had another party, remember?”

“Course I do.”

Huh? Wait. Why does he sound so—

“I was there.”

Dread launches up your veins, rocketing right to your heart in the middle of a pulse. He was there? You saw his car when Yoongi pulled up close to the house. He was there? When the fuck did he arrive? Oh, fuck, if he got there early enough… did he see you… and Yoongi…

No. There’s no way. Because one, Yoongi parked far down and around the corner. He made sure not to be close just in case you two could be spotted.

With a thought you really cannot afford right now, you also assume he stayed that distance just so that he could pin you against his car. Fucking hell, focus! Upping the strength of your resolve to match cardboard, you lamely stall in your hunt for clarification, “You were?”

“I was.”

The watch on his wrist glints in its twist. When aggravated veins stare back at you, it’s obvious your brother is on the edge. Because he is deathly calm. “So where’d you go?”

You blink, not having expelled a single breath since you stepped foot inside.

Does he not know? Or does he know and he’s just waiting for you to finally spill? With all the hope in the universe, you yearn for it to be the first one. Because you cannot deal with a fallout right now. Not right after what happened with Yoongi.

It’s just not the right time.

“Yuri’s,” you blurt, finally kicking into gear and strategizing how you’re gonna finesse this. “She came and got me.”

Your sibling just stands there, eyes a solid beam before he sighs at clasped wrists.

Here it comes. He’s gonna ask why you didn’t say anything. Like he always does because for some reason you’re still not a true adult to him and he has to keep tabs on you at all times and you can’t just sneak around with his best friend in peace—

“K.” Your eyes shake once. “Just tell me next time.”

And just like that, your brother vacates the foyer, dark dress shoes clacking as he retreats back into his room. Leaving you standing in silence.

All the words around you just as speechless.

Just like that, you’re gone again.

After watching you leave and wishing you didn’t have to, Yoongi shuts his door to rest ponderous thoughts on worn wood. Eyes closed and a storm on his mind’s horizon.

Just a little longer. He hopes you’ll understand. This is just something he needs. More than anything else.

Exhausted, he peels himself from the door, meandering through the bog of his living room. Trudge, trudge, trudge to the dining table, skirting fingers along the edge and noting that it feels different than before.

At least something in his apartment has changed for the better.

Who would’ve thought that table would witness both an end and a beginning. That it would see the worst and best of him. If it was ever called to stand, there’s no doubt that it could recite all his failures and shortcomings. But he hopes that it would also attest to how much he’s fucking tried.

As much as Yoongi wants to throw it out, he hasn’t. Because despite being withered to hell, all it needed to recover was the new company of a familiar face.

And a little bit of summer rain.

It watches as his thoughts move on, and soaks in the blues and pinks of sunrise as he crosses into the bedroom. At the feel of your lingering presence, Yoongi gnaws on his lip.

What the fuck does he do now? The moment you leave, he wants nothing more than to have you back in his bed. It’s the one fact that he has come to fully acknowledge. Because there are many times you’ve caught him slipping. But when you’re lost to your dreams? Visibly at peace and safe under his sheets? That’s when he can’t even think straight.

How your serenity throws him into disarray, Yoongi has no fucking clue.

But he can’t afford these feelings right now. Because how can he want you close while being the reason for this distance? Make it make sense. Don’t be a fucking hypocrite. Tsking, Yoongi once again accepts the consequences, heading to his bathroom before going back the fuck to sleep.

Lies. Who is he kidding? There’s no way his rest will be the same without you. Especially since he doesn’t know when he’ll get to see you next.

There is a way to remedy that. To put an end to your time apart. But Yoongi’s been so in his fucking head that it’s chaining him down and pulling taut. No matter how much he struggles, he can’t break free, and it’s driving him to the brink.

But last night? With you? Half moons mar his palms as he stands. Staring. Branding that whole memory into his heart.

After three months of questioning his existence.

All it took was your soft hums to give him a reason.

And you won’t ever know how much that meant to him. Not until Yoongi finally decides to tell you. Which will most likely be never. Maybe that’s why this time tears at his chest more than all the others. Maybe that’s why he stood in his doorway longer than usual. Maybe that’s why he can’t quite carry the weight in his chest.

Dumping himself on dark mountains—creations of his and your design—Yoongi buries his face in those valleys. Inhales those aromas like some hit he can live off of for however many days left he needs.

Desperately grasping for a fading world where only you two exist. Drifting. Dreaming. Disarmed by a vibration on his nightstand.

The fuck.

Who is texting him this early. There are only a few people he has notifications on for wait it’s probably you saying you’re home.

Peeling himself off the sheets with a groan, Yoongi simply shifts his upper body to reach for his phone, squinty-eyed as he checks his screen.

And he doesn’t see your name.

Dumbass: 1 New Message

But your brother’s.

What the hell does he—

Dumbass [07:30]: We need to talk.

…Shit.

Yoongi grips his phone in panic, ice water streaming through his veins and mind set ablaze with potential scenarios.

He’s awake. You went home. And he’s awake. Fuck, did anything happen? Did you say anything? What are the chances this text means he found everything out?

Shit.

Does Yoongi answer now? Or does he sleep and pretend that this is just a text and isn’t a problem at all? Think. Your brother may not even be referencing you, or him. Right? It could be something completely different.

Why can’t he fucking move?

Every regret Yoongi’s kept at bay floods his brain, crashing into assumptions of your mental state and creating a massive whirlpool of dread. Just answer. Don’t answer. Just answer. Don’t fucking answer. Suddenly, another alert lights his home screen and it’s a call oh fuck—wait… It’s Jungkook?

Why not. Sure. What’s one more issue.

Picking up, Yoongi runs hard fingers through his hair as he answers.

“Hey, you coming?”

“Huh?”

“We have that session in thirty.”

The what. The session? Oh, fuck. The session. Yoongi completely forgot they had a recording booked today because they were so hyped last night to get a date for the release party shit. Vacating his bed, Yoongi answers with a low, “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Yeah, don’t be late. It’s those guys from before.”

Fuck, it’s that one. The dudes that stopped by the studio just as things were wrapping up, shocking everyone when they scheduled some time. Highly successful musicians and performers booking something with a no name studio? Things are rolling in the right direction and coming along fast.

But as things go. If they don’t take this shit seriously, everything can crash just as quickly.

“Heading out,” Yoongi finally says as he yanks a hoodie from his closet, and a loud vibration against his ear makes him flinch.

Dumbass [7:40]: Heading over

Fuck!

“You okay?”

“Shit, yeah.” Yoongi grips soft material before his phone hits his desk with a thump. Hastily dressing, he grunts, “Maybe. Might be like two minutes late.”

“Nah, come now.”

He’s heading over? Your brother? If that’s the case, there’s no way he doesn’t know.

Fuck, relax. Don’t overthink. If anything, there wouldn’t have even been a heads-up. Yoongi figures he’d just find out as soon as he’s thrown against a wall. Or the ground. Or right onto his coffee table that this very guy helped pick out. Shit, he needs to know but he doesn’t wanna find out.

But nevermind him. Are you okay? Swiping his device, Yoongi quickly types a text before fast-walking out of his room, going on autopilot when he assures into his receiver, “I’ll get there.”

Yoongi [7:42]: Going to the studio

“On time? You better!”

Goddamn, he’s juggling too much right now.

As Yoongi breaks into the dining room, he hears a rustling on the line before other voices jut through the speaker. Sounds like Hobi and Joon are already there, and the next thing said further spikes his stress level another peak,

“We’re already cutting it close with the prep.”

Fucking hell, the prep. The mics, the tracks, the setup. They forgot to do all of it. Something inside of him starts snarling and almost pounces through the phone, “Fuck, we should’ve been ready already.”

“Shit, I know.”

“We can’t keep doing this.”

“Dude, relax, I get it.”

“Do you? Cus this is… Fuck.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll get it done but it’s gonna be tight. Hey, where’s the… Damn it, what’s it called?”

Frustrated and rummaging through his pantry, Yoongi knows he sure as hell didn’t think about anything else as soon as he heard you crying on the line. If he had remembered while leaving the studio, he could’ve spared a brain cell to rush everyone back in. “The what.”

“The… The overhead mic for the drums.”

Of course, he’d repeat every decision he made last night. Over, and over, and over again. But any of them should’ve remembered this step before leaving, which pisses him off. The studio’s lack of experience is showing and it’s making him nervous.

And Yoongi still doesn’t know what’s going on with his best friend.

“We need two overheads for drums,” he corrects while swiping a water bottle from the counter. And he’s about to rattle off where they are when he feels another long buzz.

Dumbass: Incoming Call

Of fucking course.

Mind whirring so hard he can feel steam, Yoongi quickly recalls where the mics are, “They’re somewhere in the back by the amps, but I gotta take this so I’ll see y’all there.”

“Wait, where are the—”

Nope. Kook’s just gonna have to figure out whatever he’s asking on his own. Switching calls, Yoongi answers while opening his door, hastily putting out the food and water he grabbed from the kitchen.

“Hey.” Fuck, is his voice shaking? What the hell is he gonna be faced with in the next few seconds? Can he freeze time and rewind and keep last night on repeat? “I’m about to head out.”

“Don’t leave yet, I’m coming.”

“No, just”—Yoongi dashes back inside before grabbing his wallet and keys from the bar—“You good? I can’t be late.”

“Don’t lie. Y’all are done, right?”

Don’t lie. Yoongi feels like hurling.

“We got another project,” he huffs as he meets sunrise again, blazing a trail through his corridor and rounding the corner to his car. “A band’s coming in for a session.”

“Shit.”

There’s a pause on the line. And it’s the first bit of silence Yoongi’s had since he got the first bone-chilling text. Is his secret safe? Are you okay? Should he work extra late and run from a problem yet again? He’s very good at that. Running. If there was a medal for distance ran from issues, he’d be on the podium for both gold and silver.

“Okay, fine.”

Relief is temporary. This could just be him biding his time in order to figure out what to do. Or maybe he truly doesn’t know what’s going on and Yoongi has a bit more uninterrupted time with you.

Delusion is a great place to stay.

In any case, his friend’s behavior is alarming. What’s he doing up this early? And why is he wanting to swing by so bad if not to slice him into tiny pieces? Nerves slow on the downslope, Yoongi shuts his car door and lends his ear, “But serious, are you okay?”

“I just… Tch. I can’t even say it.”

He lets his friend go through a series of small sounds on the line, pulling out of the lot and hitting the road with tire squeaks. “What’s up,” he finally pushes, looking sideways and remembering the car ride home.

There was no way Yoongi was gonna say no to you. He didn’t in this universe, and he’d bet his whole life he doesn’t in any other one, either. Not when your wings looked like you hadn’t used them in months.

Pained, Yoongi hopes you’re completely fine and sleeping. Tucked away in a bed that captured part of his heart, visiting him in your dreams so that some version of him can be at your side.

“Everything, Yoong.”

But, as it so starkly turns out, he has to deal with reality. And with the fact that you’re just as far away as you were before last night. Maybe even further out of reach.

So, so far away.

“There’s a ton of shit, but. Fuck. Guess we’ll have to wait.”

Right now, deal with the studio prep and get through the session that will probably take awhile. After that, meet up with your brother and hope to god he doesn’t know. “K.”

“Just lemme know when you get back.”

Then, when all of that is done, Yoongi will be alone. Staring into the night and trying his hardest not to give up on himself again. “Yeah, I will.”

“No running.”

“K.”

When the call ends, Yoongi lets out the harshest breath he’s ever let out in his life. Hoping you went right to sleep without dealing with any of that.

“How did that sound?”

Looking into the recording room, Yoongi raises a thumbs up as Hoseok clicks back to the beginning of the track. At their side, Namjoon hits a button on the console before speaking into a microphone, “Y’all wanna come hear it?”

“We can move on. Wanna get the doubling done.”

Huh? They’re gonna move onto vocal doubling already? With a few blinks, Yoongi think it’d be better if they—

“Okay!” Jungkook agrees from the couch, cutting out any other thoughts. “If any of you need adjustments, let us know.”

“Yeah, actually, can one of you come switch this out?”

Joon throws a suggestion over his shoulder, but Yoongi is already heading for the booth before his name is even mentioned.

Get everything done smooth. Stay disciplined. Be professional, goddamn it.

Entering the soundproofed room will always make him want to occupy the mic instead. That feeling hasn’t gone away, and there have been countless nights where he’s spent time just sitting in this very space, visualizing what it would be like to work on this side of the glass someday. Deep down, Yoongi knows he could be somebody. But imposter syndrome runs deep.

Avoiding cables strewn about the room, he offers his hands without a word, taking a guitar from the lead singer and making his leave—

“Hey.” He turns. “You’re good.”

What? Where the hell did that come from? Did he even hear this guy right or was he just daydreaming again? Yoongi’s so thrown he can only stare with question marks for eyes.

Amused, the singer simply points to the side of his beaming countenance. “You have an ear.”

Huh. How the hell can this dude tell? All Yoongi’s done is indicate if a recording take was good or not, and given a few minuscule suggestions to the keyboardist and guitarist—instruments he’s well-versed in.

Yet again, he’s so in his head that the man outright laughs, “Relax! You can talk to us like normal, you know. None of us care about etiquette shit.”

“Shit, my bad,” Yoongi finally responds, instrument in his hands proving a little lighter. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” Swishing long bangs to the side, the performer rests a hand on his hip. “We’re open to anything. We’d just tell you if your opinion sucks.”

Eyes creasing with his lips, Yoongi puffs out a laugh.

“Kidding. Only a little.”

Even though these people are world-renowned, they’re the first humble group to run through the studio. Everyone else has been either cocky, standoffish, or super opinionated, which made for unproductive hours.

Yoongi likes this change of pace. His shoulders start to feel composed, less scrunched than they had been since you left his place this morning. Comforted, he looks down at the guitar in his fingers.

Choosing not to say what he wants to.

Should he? Nah. These guys know what they’re doing. Despite the nice offer to speak up, it’s not his place. Far from it.

…But what would you tell him to do? What would you be proud of?

Committed to his answer, Yoongi grips the neck and decides without another thought,

“Do the chorus again.”

The whole studio stills. But all he’s looking at is the man in front of him, shaking his head when they ask, “Same way?”

“Uhm. No.” As he hands the guitar back, Yoongi wordlessly checks if he can see the sheet music. When given the go-ahead, he scans the lines before pointing out a passage to note,

“Mm. Here. Vocals are fine as is, but. Ride the build-up quicker and hit the next chord after a bit longer.” When he stops, he has to fight to ignore the eyes on him. There’s no doubt that his extended time in the recording room is being questioned, and his hand movements probably make him look stupid. “It’ll keep in time but hit harder.”

Done. He said it.

And the response that follows puts complete silence to shame.

Instantly self-conscious, Yoongi swears he can hear Hobi’s pants shift in the control room through two closed doors shit he took it too far. Fuck, if these guys walk out now the studio is done for and he’ll be the only reason why—

“Well, goddamn. Let’s try that then.”

Huh. They’re gonna take that?

As he steps away, Yoongi feels slightly awkward doused in attention. Yeah, expressions seem like looks of approval, but they could just be polite.

The man hums the chorus with Yoongi’s notes in mind, and his eyebrows tick a bit before he addresses the others in the room, “You heard him?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Yeah, we can try that.”

“Why didn’t you think of that, Woosung?”

Yoongi can’t keep his amusement under wraps as the singer laughs, addressing his keyboardist with a grin, “Damn, not even Sammy? Straight to Woosung, huh.”

“Sammy would’ve thought of it.”

Another bout of mirth spreads joy around the recording booth, and Yoongi shares a look with the singer before they both nod.

“Let’s see how it sounds.”

“K.”

Proud and adrenaline-filled, he turns to walk back to the door, head so buzzed he doesn’t know what to do. But when Yoongi can’t see into the control room anymore, he misses a stare through the glass.

A stare that lingers on him just a little too long.

The rest of the session goes smooth, and Yoongi’s relieved that they haven’t asked him for anything else.

After all. He doesn’t wanna push it, or step on Jungkook’s toes. What happened in the recording room only went down because you would have scolded him for not seizing that moment. And the suggestion he gave was lauded after the next take.

It was the first time since you kissed him goodbye that he felt a healthy pulse in his chest. Despite the chaos of the morning, amid the thoughts and worries penetrating his brain, you reached out and kept him steady in just the right moment.

Fuck being his good luck charm. You give guardian angels shame and you don’t even know it.

“Okay, we’ll take ten after this.”

Jungkook holds up an arm while agreeing, “Okay! We’ll save what we got!”

Yoongi’s scanning the tracks when he feels hovering over his shoulder, and he already knows it’s the kid without looking. “Sup.”

“Nothing.”

“You sure.”

At this, Jungkook pauses before he sighs. “Yeah, it’s nothing,” he clearly lies.

But Yoongi will let him figure out whether to run with that or not. He seems a little bothered about something, and it very well could be what happened in the booth. This is work, and they’re both adults. If he wants to talk about something, Yoongi will gladly have that conversation.

Suddenly, a vibration erupts in his hoodie pocket, and his phone is fished out without him even thinking.

Hustler: Incoming C—

Shit. You wouldn’t call him at work unless it’s urgent. Which is quickly throwing any possible theories about your brother not knowing out the window.

But fuck, he can’t answer yet. There’s no way. Not only is he in very close range to someone you don’t wanna speak to right now, but he’d get blasted for being on his phone during a session. Hoping you can wait just two more minutes, Yoongi turns the buzzing off within his hoodie pocket, anxiously waiting for the take to start.

Hoping to everything that Jungkook didn’t happen to see what was on his screen.

As soon as everyone looks pleased—three takes and thirty minutes later—Yoongi quickly excuses himself from the control room. His head practically overheats on the way out back, but the gust of morning breeze serves to soothe it some.

It’s been chilly lately. A bit grey. But whatever the weather has been outside, it’s no match for the atmosphere of his brain.

Pulling his hood over hair he hasn’t cut in months, Yoongi looks around before ringing you up. Hoping that you’re good and didn’t have to go through a version of his panic earlier.

Hustler: Outgoing Call

Straight to voicemail? Shit.

Hustler: Outgoing Call

Fuck, still voicemail. Are you okay? On the phone with someone else? Did your brother actually end up finding out and things are worse than he thought? Clutching his phone, Yoongi glances up while giving it slight shakes, body on alert while deciding what the hell to do now.

Maybe he can at least text you to ask what the hell happened this morning? Typing. Erasing. Retyping. Retrying.

Yoongi [9:02]: Got a session today, doll.

That’s what he had to say? That won’t do you any good, the fuck? Berating himself with a sigh, he takes a few steps while texting a follow-up.

Yoongi [9:03]: Still going, but are you good?

Staring, it takes him a few seconds to decide if this is enough. If these two messages are gonna suffice to help him figure out what the hell he’s getting into later.

It’s not. There’s too much he needs to know.

Hustler: Outgoing Call

When it doesn’t ring a third time, Yoongi gives up, cursing before turning and raking his hood off in distress.

Only to see Woosung materializing out of nowhere—relaxed, silent, and taking a drag.

Shit. How much of that did he witness?

“Been there,” the man empathizes, blowing out smoke into crisp morning. After a swell of early traffic fills the alleyway, he continues, “In trouble?”

Great. With a sound of dejection, Yoongi answers to a stack of random boxes, “Might be.”

“Don’t wanna commit anymore?”

“I do,” Yoongi blurts without hesitation, looking right into eyes that have seen plenty more than he has.

And it’s the first time he’s admitted anything out loud. To a stranger miles above him in status, no less. Hands stuffed in his pockets, he clarifies, “It’s just… There’s something I need to do first.”

Wait a sec. Why the fuck is he talking about this so freely? This isn’t something he does. Privacy is practically his brand. So why is it easy to talk to this guy? It’s him, for fuck’s sake. But what’s done is done. Woosung probably won’t even remember this conversation even happened, or is already annoyed as hell he didn’t get a good read on him.

To Yoongi’s surprise, his alley companion speaks again after another white wisp. “Mmm… Something you need to do?”

Well. Yoongi walked right into this one. Swallowing and knowing he can’t dip out, he sighs, “Some shit I wanna finish.” The smell of tobacco wafts around him when he looks at dulled skies. “Shit I need to get through.”

An amused hum floats through empty space. “Been there, too.”

Yoongi slowly turns to regard his client, watching as Woosung becomes very interested in wet concrete.

What kind of shit has this guy seen? Surely, he could have had some of the same experiences. The slight droop in his confident shoulders tells enough. But would he understand the exact same situation?

No. At least, Yoongi hopes not. Quite fucking frankly, he hopes no one has had to go through the same shit that he has.

“Let me know if you ever need help,” Woosung offers, shocking Yoongi to the point of speechlessness. As he drops his cigarette to squash it out, he runs a hand through wild dark locks. “We’ll be around again.”

Wait. What? Yoongi can only blink. “Serious?”

“Yeah.” The man looks down the outside corridor, watching as people start heading to their jobs through a central courtyard. “Got a good feeling about this place.”

What does he mean by that. What can Woosung possibly mean by that what does he mean they’ll be back? To the studio? To the city? What’s happening. Yoongi simply lets a pause prevail before offering the only response he’s capable of,

“It’s the food next door, huh.”

That laugh has got to be top five in the world. Not as great as yours, but definitely up there in terms of what makes Yoongi feel like things are alright. Not that he’d ever admit that shit to anyone. Ever.

Mercifully, the conversation moves away from risky topics. Instead, there are talks about a tour one is planning for his band’s album, mixed in with mentions of equipment the other is saving up for. Then the rest isn’t about music at all.

Finally, it’s time for them to continue recording, so they know to head back inside. “Don’t wait,” Woosung advises as he turns on his heel.

And Yoongi can only stare somewhere else.

“If there’s something you need to get through...”

Stare, and stare, and stare some more.

“Hit it until it breaks.”

Because he’s already aware. More than anyone.

As Woosung shuts the back door, Yoongi’s gaze finds the crushed cigarette at his side. Another reminder of how things were.

And a reminder that he’s still a fucking coward.

Hours later, Yoongi’s car awaits him in the lot.

And when he realizes that you still haven’t responded, he shuts his door just a little too hard.

Whenever his friend comes over for drinks, it’s always the same routine.

Both of them don’t talk much, instead opting for a quiet greeting before someone dumps themselves on the couch while the other grabs a bottle and cups in the kitchen. As soon as glasses are filled, conversation sparks as a game plays out on tv—or a sportscasting show if nothing interesting is airing.

But this time? None of it happens that way. Because when Yoongi opens his door, he’s pinned with a shadowed visage he's only seen piercing through others.

And the whole arctic starts to seep into his bloodstream.

Raising a brow and giving space is his chosen course of action. Best to not disturb a beast if they’re already ready to lunge.

And his friend eyes him as he stalks into the house, scanning around in search of something—living room, dining table, even looking into the open doorway of the bedroom.

Fuck. Relax. Don’t assume anything until things are on the table. Yoongi has got to pretend like tonight is normal and fine and that he’s obviously and positively not seeing and sleeping with his friend’s little sister.

And that he most definitely didn’t eat you out where your brother is sitting now motherfucker he needs a drink. Or a smoke. Or both with a plane ticket out of the whole country.

At least the television is already on. If it wasn’t for that ambiance, Yoongi’s head would be jam packed with every goddamn sound known to man. Including the adorable way you talk in your sleep, and how you strain so beautifully when you come fuck, fuck, fuck! Focus.

What’s happened has happened. And what’s going to happen will happen. Whether it’s a consequence of his actions, or nothing to do with any of this at all.

But when faced with everything smushing together at once? Yoongi will probably need to be revived no matter what the outcome. This is the most stressed out he’s been in years.

Not only that, but his stress is more than obvious. Even now in the kitchen, he’s scanning through his bottles with a finger—an action he’s never done while sober since the choices are always predictable. Holy shit, he needs to pull it together.

Has he ever been this panicked? Does he appear just as chaotic and disjointed as he feels? This is too new. This is very new and if he doesn’t regain control there’s no telling where this foreign road leads.

But the silence still remains as he turns. And apparently the road hits a dead end at his dining table. Since it’s occupied rather than the living room sofa.

Sighing, Yoongi ambles to his friend, placing everything down with clinks and ignoring the way his furniture is getting burned through. Both whisky’s are ready. Yoongi’s already holding his. And your brother still hasn’t moved a muscle. Honestly, what the fuck is going on with—

“I went to Jimin’s last night.”

…What.

Don’t react. He’s staring. Don’t fucking react. Take a drink. A sip. Pick up the goddamn glass. Doing so, Yoongi slowly brings the liquid to his lips, not quite following his own instructions as he asks behind a barrier, “How was it.”

His question is met with a laugh that isn’t funny at all. The kind that drags a finger along the chalkboard of your soul. And the next question directed his way pulverizes Yoongi’s denial,

“Care to share what’s been going on?”

He’s sick. Beyond sick. The room is closing in and closing in too fucking fast. Shit shit shit. There’s no way he saw. No fucking way. He parked down the street he deliberately stopped as far away as possible and you saw your brother’s car in your driveway. Did he get there after you left? And didn’t see you while also not hearing from hi—

“Why her, Yoong? Hmm?”

Fuck!

Yoongi can’t feel the air in his lungs. Because there isn’t any. Just a barren wasteland of shriveled futures and cracks in the foundation of every relationship he’s had in his whole life. The millisecond before a crash and only his wheels spinning and spinning and spinning—

Your brother shoots out of the chair, making the glass in Yoongi’s palm feel infinitely more solid.

“I mean, fuck! After all the shit we’ve been through? You’re gonna go back to her?”

All the—shit, he can’t even—back to? Back to you? What does he mean by back to you? Does he know about the first ti—

Volcanic, the man interrogating paces beside the dining table. Back and forth, back and forth. A pause. Back and forth.

And Yoongi still feels frozen in time. Is this it? Is this when things come crashing down? Glass suspends in midair all around him; an orchestra trembles beneath his feet, waiting for the moment to rip into his rib cage with swift strokes and a flourish as he’s taken down.

“Can’t fucking believe you.”

When Yoongi finally chooses to speak, what comes out only feels like a horrible attempt more than anything else, “Listen, it’s my fau—”

“What, you just decided to fuck that bitch again? Couldn’t stay away?”

Oh, fuck that.

Wood scrapes into flooring as Yoongi vacates his chair, hard feet planted as he gets into the face of his best friend, his confidant, his day one. Only to speak so low only them two can hear, “How bout you use your fucking words already and I’ll tell you.”

“Yeah? Is that what you want?” They are only a breath apart. But no one’s going anywhere now. “Need me to spell it out for that fuckass brain of yours—”

“Say it—”

“Stop fucking your ex, dude!”

Yoongi’s back connects with the chair behind him, palms flinging back to brace himself through a jolt of pain. And his eyes go so wide they stretch at the edges.

…Motherfucker, what?

Your brother is not done in the slightest, but Yoongi can only stare as he’s being berated for something that is one-hundred percent news to him, too.

“Everyone was happy when you finally left. All of us. Only for you to go and, what, get back with her?”

Nothing makes sense. This isn’t about you? Yoongi’s heart can’t even reset to start beating again. Everything is coming as shock after shock and there’s no way he can keep up at this pace.

His ex? Her? Where the fuck did that come from and why the hell does he of all people think that’s actually true?

“If you’re gonna be with her, you can count me out.”

No. Never again. That would never, ever happen again. “The fuck are you even saying—”

“I’m not fucking joking, Yoong. If you’re seriously back with her then—”

“Look, I don’t know what the fuck you heard, but I’m not.”

“So everything I heard was a lie?”

“Huh?”

“He told me!”

He—who? Who the fuck would say that? And when how what the fuck and why? Yoongi stares, chest heaving with every inhale and exhale. Because he has a choice to make. Either he trudges into this lie and rubs sludge all over his bones, or he denies it like he wants because it’s not fucking true.

What the actual fuck. It’s already bad enough that someone sent this along the rumor mill. And it’s making him sick thinking about all the implications surrounding it. But it’s even worse that his best friend believes it so easily. He’s coming at him so quick without even asking if it’s true.

The only silver lining—the singular bright spot in this hellhole—is that he can use it as an out. An out to protect you from wrath and further fury from your older sibling because if you were the rumor? He’d be laid flat on his floor next to a broken dining set.

“You gonna say anything or what?”

Truthfully, Yoongi feels queasy knowing what he’s gonna do. But it’s for you. You, you, you. And for that, Yoongi will do anything.

Even if it kills him.

“No, I, umm…”

“No?”

Just hurry up and fucking do it.

Resigned, Yoongi lets the memories flood through. Every moment that’s haunted him from a distance charges forward as he surrenders to the pain of his past. “It’s—” Fuck, he can’t even begin to lie, head thundering, thundering, striking his heart in the rain. “I...”

His friend halts. Tense before his shoulders fall back to normal. “You what.”

What the fuck does Yoongi do? What can he say when his brain is only firing up to beg him to run? Technically, he doesn’t have to say anything. He really doesn’t. But he can deflect. It’s what he’s best at, after all. He’s been doing it to you and he will do it again.

In the most defeated voice he can muster, Yoongi comes up with something that will placate his friend while still prolonging this horrid fib, “You don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

“You sure?”

It’s true. More true than anything. “It’s over now.”

A century passes. Then another. Then another. Every piece of furniture waits in silence as the television seeps back into his ears.

Then his friend sighs, not looking back as he slumps into the same chair that you always occupy. And Yoongi hopes his sigh of conflicted relief isn’t witnessed.

Following suit, he rubs his lower back before taking his regular seat again, not giving any shits about waiting to drink.

His ex?

As his throat warms, Yoongi starts to harden the more memories keep crashing into each other like jagged waves fuck he really hates how she was brought into this he swears as soon as he figures out who said this he is going to—

“Sorry.” Haze shattered, he lifts his gaze. “I’m so fucking stressed and hearing that last night just…”

“It’s done.” Yoongi reaches for the thick bottle, pouring more into his glencairn. Wanting to talk about literally anything else, he diverts the conversation, “But something else is up with you so say it.”

It works. The man inhales deep, rubbing his face with weary hands. When he rests elbows on wood, he finally talks about other things clouding his mind,

“Work is shit,” he groans downward. “They’re having me travel again.”

“Domestic?”

“Yeah. But for longer. And I don’t…” Tapering off, he sits back, slowly playing with his glass. As if he doesn’t want to mention the next problem.

When he finally does, Yoongi wholeheartedly understands the hesitation, “I dunno know what’s going on with my sister.”

Oh. Fuck, how the hell does he respond? Keeping his cool, Yoongi just repeats the question, taking out his phone and pretending to check his screen. “Your sister?”

“Yeah.” A sigh is sandwiched between explanations. “The past few months, I feel like.. They haven’t really been themselves.”

A sudden crack splits him through.

“Not laughing. Not eating as much. Like even when they sound happy, I can tell it’s a front.. I don’t know.”

The clunk of his phone hits the table very hard.

No. No, no, no. Your texts have been so positive. So encouraging. Other than a few sad calls, you’ve been happy to hear from him just as he had been relieved to hear from you. Even in the car, you must’ve put your feelings lightly.

Your wings. You’ve been enduring all that? For him? Yoongi’s heart rears its head, snagging one of his breaths and slamming both lungs into the floor.

And hatred paints his heart another shade darker.

“They finally went out last night, but. Didn’t come back until this morning.” Running rigid hands through his head, the man looks so pained. So helpless. “Same clothes, dude.”

And Yoongi can only stare, feigning nonchalance but raging and tearing himself apart inside. “Mm.”

“I just… I know I suck at this, but. I don’t know what the hell to do. Or if I even do anything.” Your brother finally takes a swig, wincing at how much ethanol coats his tongue.

Relax, relax, relax. As much as he wants to erupt on himself right now, Yoongi has to stay calm.

Not like he doesn’t know how. That’s usually how he operates, anyway. It’s hard to tell he’s struggling unless you look deep enough. And almost no one thinks to do so because his surface is all they want.

But right now? He doesn’t think he can sequester this anger any longer. At him, his past, and his stupid present decisions.

“Like I tried to say something but I just.. I felt like if I push too hard, they’re gonna shut down even more. Ever since that fight with Kook, it’s like..”

Seeing an opening and keeping a neutral stance, Yoongi asks the most ironic question to date, “Are they seeing someone?”

At this, his friend shakes his head, eyes glued to dark amber liquid. When he answers, all the breaths in the world cut at once,

“I think she feels all alone.”

This hit is the strongest. Straight to the gut, breath stuttering and muscles clenching so hard they lock. It’s almost severe enough to affect how Yoongi feels around his eyes.

“And it sucks not knowing what to do.”

Yoongi’s heart lurches, deflating and slipping out of the crack in his chest. Piercing on the jagged edges before slumping down onto a table that continues to judge him.

You’re hurting. Your brother’s hurting. And it’s all his goddamn fault. Why can’t he just break free and admit shit? Why is he still haunted by the phantoms of his past? Why is he still so fucking weak? It’s clear that he hurt you. For months. You’ve been cheering for him that whole time while you’ve been visibly broken and it’s all because of his dumbass decision to—

“I’m heading out again.”

Yoongi raises his eyes. Because he can’t seem to move anything else. “When.”

Your older sibling takes a slower, more measured sip. Looking towards the channel playing in the living room, he answers, “After our game. Dinner Friday, game on Saturday, fly out Sunday.”

“Mm. We’ll still be here,” Yoongi assures, keeping things as normal and neutral as he can. “Just like last time.”

How ironic. How hypocritical. He hasn’t been there for you in the slightest so how the fuck can he say that with a straight face.

“Thanks. I know it’s a lot for y’all but..”

Not at all. Yoongi is more determined than ever to make everything up to you. It’s the least he can do after putting you through something he decided on the fly.

On the run.

“Don’t worry about that,” he vows into his drink. Honestly, if you’ve been having second thoughts about this whole thing, he doesn’t blame you. Absolutely doesn’t blame you if you realize you’re better than this. But Yoongi’s at least gonna apologize in every single way he can. As soon as he possibly can. “We got it.”

“K.” The man finishes his glass and goes to pour more. “Did I ever mention that she liked you?”

Now what— Coughing on whisky is a bitch and a half. Hitting his chest while both eyes squint from burn, Yoongi croaks out his exact thoughts, “What.”

At this, his friend finally breaks into his regular smile. Setting the bottle down with a hollow clunk, he points, “Don’t you fucking get any ideas. Jimin’s already on my shit list.” He scoffs out a laugh. “But it was obvious when we were younger.”

And Yoongi can only cough some more. He shakes his head through the sting, swallowing and trying to compose himself. He doesn’t know where the hell that came from, but he hopes your brother will understand when all is said and done. Even though he’s been the reason you’ve been so…

Yoongi almost fucking confesses.

“You’re a good person,” he blurts instead. Whether the guilt or last cough pushed it out, that’s still on the table. “You don’t suck at what you think you do.”

“You think so?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

The hell? Does this dude really not see how successful he is? How much he’s overcome and conquered and sacrificed? Truthfully, Yoongi wouldn’t be where he is today if not for your brother. Him. Jimin. You. Anybody. Which is what makes this ongoing betrayal…

Unprecedented.

“You’re the best out of all of us.”

Your brother finally looks at him, though Yoongi isn’t doing the same. But he can still tell when a fist is held out for him to bump, so he does.

And they both share a drink in respectful silence.

After a moment of them watching the tv, the man finally sighs. “Guess we did shape up pretty nice.” When he’s agreed with, he keeps going with a grin. “We were so fucking bad.”

Yoongi can only chuckle, much better memories fighting off the terrors. “Old me was a little shit.”

“You still are.”

“Says you!”

“I still am, too!”

Laughs precede big swigs of whisky and comfortable quiet. Bit by bit, shoulders start to relax with the surrounding air, and Yoongi lazily releases tension in his neck.

After a few more pours, your brother decides to call it, using the bathroom before announcing that he’s gonna head out. Yoongi gets up from his chair to clasp hands goodbye, not expecting to hear one more plea,

“Break up with her, Yoong.”

Shit. He sighs, and their conversation continues from the dining table to the front door. “It’s not like that.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s over now.”

“For good?” As they stop beside the coat closet, your brother pins him with a look. “I was about to drive over and break down the door.”

Even though Yoongi shares a tsk with him, he can’t help but imagine what could’ve happened if that was the case. And it sends an unwanted jolt of chills.

“Serious. I’m gonna keep saying this, but. she was just making you miserable, dude.” He slips on his shoes, smacking his foot on the ground to push one in place. “I’m sure it was good at first, but I mean… You gotta move on. You deserve better than that.”

Anything would be better than that. Yoongi just disagrees with the whole deserving part. “I guess.”

“You sure it’s over?”

“Yeah,” he assures, because that is something he intends to keep true forever. “It is.”

“Good.” Keys jingling, your sibling then points into the open area with his whole arm, seven words leaving his mouth like ice,

“Then get rid of that fucking guitar.”

Ah. Among all the things. Of course he would bring that up, too. Jaw working, Yoongi looks away, now assaulted by all the torturous thoughts surrounding that painful reminder and fighting them off with no success.

Get rid of it? He’s been trying.

For three. Fucking. Months.

“I might.”

“…K.”

And his best friend departs, leaving Yoongi inside and staring at the same black spot he’s kept in the corner for years. It has mocked him as he struggles. Laughed at him whenever he’s tried to throw it out. And aside from the times he’s made you feel better stinging himself on those strings, he has accomplished nothing except letting it win.

Pissed off and doused in guilt, Yoongi yanks himself away from the door, the instrument, and everything else except for his bed.

Keeping his shadow exactly where it stands.

Yoongi knows he needs to talk to you.

But his phone exists somewhere on the other side of his bedroom door.

And he doesn’t have the strength to go get it.

What time is it?

All that greets him is darkness.

Nothing new, but darkness all the same.

Why was she mentioned? What does that mean?

He needs to call you. He’s lying to his best friend.

Her? You. His sheets still smell like you.

Inhale. Breathe. Inhale.

He needs to call you. But he’s so, so tired.

And the darkness pulls him back under.

Without even telling him the time.

Buzzing.

Faint, gentle buzzing softly lifts Yoongi’s eyelids before a loud series of smacks causes him to rush out of bed what the fuck?

Oh. His phone fell outside. Fucking hell, his heart’s beating way too quick for that to be the only thing that happened.

Head in his hands, Yoongi sighs deep before making his way to the dining table. And it takes all of his strength to bend down to reach for his phone.

Hustler: Missed Calls (6)

Dumbass: 1 Message

Hustler: 3 Messages

Chim: 7 Messages

Chim: Missed Calls (3)

Holy fuck.

With only the light of his phone illuminating the dark, Yoongi rings Jimin up. His heart’s a little disappointed it wasn’t you calling just now, but it’s probably best to stay away while his brain is so scattered and torn.

“Oh, fuck. There you are.”

“Mm.”

“Don’t scare me like that, bro. I was starting to get ready to drive over—”

“It’s fine,” he juts in. “What’s up.”

Alright, maybe he shouldn’t be an asshole. There’s no reason to let his lingering shadow from earlier control his temper now. Jimin’s just being himself, for fuck’s sake.

“I, umm. I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”

Now that’s not what Yoongi expected at all. “For what?”

There’s another pause on the line, and his reaction is immediate when he knows for a fact Jimin is fighting back tears.

“I… I got so drunk last night, I—And I—”

Shit. A sinking feeling starts to weigh Yoongi down, his center pulling the rest of him in like a black hole. And he doesn’t need to hear the rest of this to know what this call is about.

“He was looking for her, Yoong, and you weren’t there, either. He had this look, I—I couldn’t think of anything else to say in the moment and I told him—”

Jimin can’t even finish his confession. And it hits right in the gut.

Despite his perceived persona, Yoongi doesn’t like hearing people cry. At least, if they don’t deserve to or don’t deserve to be sad—or if they’re you. He could care less about the rest.

But Jimin is one of the only people that can get him like this: eyes stinging at their edges and his chest concave. In the dark, though, no one can tell. No one can see him.

So he can openly swipe at his eyes before dumping tired limbs into a chair, catching his forehead in a damp palm.

“I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.”

Exhaling through his nose, Yoongi tries his best to calm his emotions. Because they are still raging and it’s going to take all of him to quell this tempest.

Jimin knows more than anyone what this means to him. To you. The time you spent apart? If it wasn’t for his friend, Yoongi may have been in a much different position. If this was the only thing Park could do, then his effort has to be acknowledged. It worked like a fucking charm.

But goddamn, Yoongi wishes Jimin thought of literally anything else. He could’ve made up some random, some fling from another city, the damn studio itself.

“Don’t worry about it,” he finally rasps out. “It’s just been a fuckin’ day.”

Jimin sniffles before cursing at himself and, judging by the sounds on the line, Yoongi figures he’s opening his fridge. If he reaches for soju, that would not be surprising in the least, and now that sounds like a good idea.

“Same. Gah, I just… I should’ve warned you. I didn’t know he went over there.”

“He told you?”

“I called him after you didn’t answer earlier.”

“Oh. Yeah, I passed out after he left.”

“Ah.”

Something shuts before there’s a crisp clink on the line, validating exactly what Yoongi was thinking.

“I really am sorry. What did you end up saying?”

“That it’s done.”

A hum.

“That’s very true.”

There’s a question that Yoongi thinks to ask. Context that he needs. But as important as this information is, Yoongi doesn’t feel like talking about it right now. Or ever. But now still counts. So he switches the conversation over to something less daunting, “Practice still on tomorrow?”

When Jimin laughs out of surprise, it gives Yoongi the smallest kick of energy.

“Ah, someone actually ready to go for once?”

“Yeah. The plan is to make this game quick.”

A hearty swallow spills out of the speaker before a hum follows,

“Mm, that reminds me. Got something that might help with that.”

What the hell does that even mean? “Huh?”

“I’ll bring it over tomorrow. You might find some good uses for it.”

Yoongi rubs the grogginess still clinging to his face. “All these years and you’ve never given me a straight answer.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Knowing the answer.”

At least Jimin’s back in a good mood. Or a better state than puffy-eyed and regretful. He doesn’t have to share the pain in this, too. It was an honest mistake.

“You’ll know it when you see it.”

“Annoying.”

“Love you, too!”

Yoongi’s huff billows through his nose, and Jimin’s energy almost brings enough strength for him to clear the table.

Ehh. He’ll leave it alone. He’s been pretty good at that lately, too, no matter how early or late it is in the night. What time even is it? Checking his phone, Yoongi’s brows crease when he figures that out. Why the hell are they even on a call right now? “Wait, is it really three?”

“Huh? Yeah. I’m telling you, dude, I was getting worried.”

He was really about to drive over? “Sorry. I really did just pass out.”

“Mm. Well, I’m gonna go do that now.”

“K. Same time tomorrow?”

“Ah, a little earlier. Just so I can give this to you before everyone else shows.”

That just makes Yoongi infinitely more curious. “Seriously, what did you get?”

“Relax! You will like it.”

“Chim, I swear—”

“You’ll thank me later bye!”

As soon as Jimin disappears from the line, Yoongi is left alone again.

Exactly where he always ends up.

Exactly where he doesn’t want to be.

But now that he’s done dealing with those notifications, Yoongi roams lidded eyes over his screen again.

Wait. You called him six times? Fuck. What did you text? Were you wondering where he was, too?

Hustler [20:01]: HOLY FUCK!! my phone died after i tried calling you this morning and i just fully woke up to charge it😭 he’s not home so call whenever

Yoongi clutches his phone a little tighter.

He very much would’ve rather been in your bed with you all day.

That sounds like fucking bliss.

Hustler [23:37]: tried calling but he’s home now. are you ok?? idk what’s going on with him but i think we need to be careful

Shit, Yoongi didn’t get to tell you. You’ve probably been worried about that every second you’ve been awake today.

And he couldn’t even make it out of his goddamn room to help.

All he comes with is worries for you. What kind of shit is this? What is he even doing? He even outright told you that you were dating only for that to be ripped from your hands for months. Why are you still giving someone like him a chance?

Hustler [23:40]: but all i wanna do is see you

Fucking hell.

Nothing in the world can stop his heartbeat quite like you can. With that smile, or those eyes, or the simple shit like this. Not even lightning can strike him the same way.

Despite the consistency Yoongi has with admitting his own shortcomings, and despite the way he keeps reminding himself he doesn’t deserve you…

All he wants to do is see you, too.

You’ve been more than he ever would’ve imagined—your consideration, your intellect, your mind. And there have been times when you’d look at him as if he was the center of your galaxy.

After all this time. All these days and nights.

You still don’t realize that he was destined to orbit you.

It’s been decided long before his mind was made up—at least, the part of him that doesn’t traverse the dark side. His heart had been tugging him to you ever since that rainy day, no matter where he’s drifted or which direction he’s gone in. All of them lead back into your arms.

But just like the feeling he gets walking into the recording booth, imposter syndrome eats him alive and doubt scavenges on what’s left.

He will never be good enough for you. One of these days, you will realize that you don’t have to settle for him. It’s good now, but you’ll only give him so many chances, which he is swiftly running through at breakneck speeds.

How fucking stupid. Having these thoughts while wanting nothing more than to hear your voice.

Just like everyone else, you’ll eventually be done passing through. His winter will return after your inevitable departure, all the warmth you give focused on something else that deserves it more.

Something that isn’t broken.

Yoongi whips his head up at the sound of buzzing, noticing thin lines of light beneath his phone on the table.

What. No way.

From the rapid beats inside his chest, he shoots his hopes right into the dark.

And they burst into beautiful sparks when he reads his screen.

Hustler: Incoming Call

But just like the streaks of color he witnessed with you on that balcony, his brightness is short lived. Because as soon as Yoongi answers, the way your throat constricts scorches his windpipe through.

And the first thing you attempt to get through makes his eyes shut tight.

“Are we… is this over?”

Fuck.

“I get it, if we are. If you—if you don’t wanna do this with me anymore.”

Fuck. Fuck everything this is not happening right now. “Hold up,” Yoongi breathes, body on full alert. “What’s going on?”

“I thought… When you weren’t picking up, I—”

“Breathe, babe,” Yoongi softens, hating, hating, hating himself all over again. “I passed out before you called. That’s it.”

“Oh. Shit, I really thought—”

“You would know,” he whooshes, syllables squeezed out by the mountain of regret on his back. After hearing what he put you through? Hearing how you sound now? There’s no way he can do that shit again. No more disappearing from the grid because he can’t fight himself. “You would know if I was done.”

Your sniffle sinks the ship with his heart inside.

“Are you? With me?”

Yoongi folds, fingers digging through his hair and blocking it in hard chunks. The amount of things he wants to say to you could wrap the whole world before repeating. But he settles with a truth he can say out loud,

“No way in hell, doll.”

Please. Don’t cry. Because he can only handle feeling his eyes sting so much in one night. There’s only so much he can take before he’s grabbing his keys and speeding over—friends and brothers be damned.

“Okay… I’m just. It’s been a day.”

That’s okay.

Because he’s had a day, too.

“I don’t wanna bother you with it, though, it’s so late.”

Please keep going.

Please don’t leave him alone.

“Talk to me.”

Like a gentle stream, your recap—though not ideal—washes away the weariness from Yoongi’s eyes. Lifts the weight he bears on his shoulders, even if just a little bit.

You’re so good at that.

“Well. Umm. He saw me coming home this morning. And, umm. It was weird. I don’t know why but I think we have to be really careful. And ugh, it—. It sucks because he’s going on a trip soon and I don’t wanna stress him out even more but I—”

Shit, you’ve probably been holding all of this in ever since you got up. You don’t know that your brother believes something entirely different. But of course you’d be considerate, even now. That’s just who you are.

“I, umm. I feel so fucking bad about it but I don’t wanna mess him up right now. Or maybe he knows but just won’t say it? Fuck, sorry, I’m trying not—to—”

The phone goes mute, and Yoongi’s head suddenly weighs ten times heavier.

“He doesn’t know, babe,” he soothes, hating how he can’t be there to comfort you with more than his word and waves in the sky.

If he was stronger, things could be different by now. Vastly different. Vastly better. You would cry less, he knows that for damn sure. Weak, weak, weak. That’s all he fucking is.

The only one he seems to be strong for is you. “He came over earlier.”

“Fuck, really?”

“Yeah.”

You pause, seemingly to roll this information around that beautiful mouth of yours, and Yoongi has the strongest yearning to kiss all your worries right out of it.

“What did he say?”

Shit. You’ll just have to forgive him later. Because Yoongi chooses not to tell the whole truth. You don’t need to bear the same worries as him, anyway. They aren’t yours. He will shoulder all of those on his own. Because he’s the reason for them in the first place. “Nothing about us.”

“Oh, thank fuck.”

Good. Your relief is all that matters. But Yoongi still feels bad for not being able to pick himself up. You could’ve known that a lot sooner if he was stronger. If he was better. “So don’t worry, doll.”

“Okay. What about you? Are you okay?”

Huh? Your questions catch him completely off-guard. It’s almost comical how his first reaction goes straight to a No. But sticking to his earlier stances, he won’t bother you with any of that. There is a truth that he can admit. One that’s always true and will continue to be so. “Just wanna see you.”

And this is when his eyes slowly shut. Don’t. Don’t cry.

“Me, too, baby.”

Hearing that? Chipped and broken from your lips? That is another thing Yoongi can’t handle. His heart beats once before it free falls, and he clutches his phone just a little tighter.

Fuck everything. He’s gonna find a way to do this. All of it.

“I’ll figure it out.”

“You will?”

He’ll figure out how to move mountains to make it up to both you and your brother.

“Just a little longer.”

He has to.

“Okay.”

Neither of you deserve this. And he doesn’t deserve either of you. Truly, the only thing he deserves is to be alone. And judging by the way things are going, it’s only a matter of time before you start resenting this behavior and leave, too.

“Thank you.”

What? Something in Yoongi flickers, and he lifts his whole head to eye his screen.

“For putting up with me.”

Oh. Of course you’d assume you’re the issue. Seems like you need the same type of assurance that he does. Both of you the same? Who would’ve thought his bruised soul would sync up with a perfect one like yours.

At this, he holds his breath before chuckling soft. “This has been the highlight of my day, doll,” he admits, finally breaking into a tiny smile and sitting back.

“Really?”

Wait. There was another good part of his day. But he wants to save that for when he can tell you in person. “One of them. But you’ll hear about the other one later.”

“Boo.”

Cute. Wait, isn’t it absurdly late? You have to be up for work in mere hours. It’s a miracle you reached out when you did. “Don’t you have to be up soon?”

“A ha… Yeah.”

“What are you still talking to me for?”

“I miss you.”

Well. That’s not something that he expected. And your admittance being so immediate actually sends shivers down his arms.

Yoongi can only laugh to himself. He knew he had it bad, but this feeling is something else. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what? Miss you? Yeah, right.”

God. You’re getting too fucking good at this. He’s gotta fight back or else his throne will be taken before he even sees you again. “Just a bad night to say it, doll.”

“Why?”

Perfect. “Cus I’m willing to get in the car.”

“Fuck.”

Yoongi happily lets his mouth slant when you groan, chuckling into the receiver and getting up to clear the table. When he flicks on the kitchen light, he doubles down, “Wanna try again?”

He knows you’re gonna say no. Even though your brother doesn’t know, it’s definitely not a proper time to sneak you out—as much as he fucking wants to. Fuck, to be the one sneaking you out of your house… Maybe there’s another version of you both out there that’s done it. A version of him watching a version of you creeping out to his car, face shining in nightfall and etching a permanent smile into his heart.

“I hate you.”

Yoongi should’ve expected that. The sudden laugh that flings out into his liquor cabinet ricochets off multiple bottles, and he shuts it while sporting a wide grin. “That’s better.”

“Ha ha.”

You’re smiling, too. Cute ass. Just the fact that he knows makes him excited for the future, and he’s determined to make it count. Make it worth it. You deserve every goddamn apology he can give. “I miss you, too, babe,” he whispers, grabbing the glasses from the table to wash in his sink.

“Nu uh! You hate me, too.”

Wait. Did you…

Did you just pout?

Hell no, that’s outright cheating. That’s when Yoongi will never be able to win. Putting the phone down, he promptly states his new plan into a basin, “Nah, I’m going to sleep.”

“Wait, huh? Why!”

“Nothing.”

“I swear to god—”

“Nothing at all,” Yoongi lies, voice straight as he can muster while hot water runs over his hands. It’s a good kind of sting as his chilled skin adjusts, and he cleans one glass before he hears you ask in his ear,

“Getting ready for bed? Or are you in the kitchen?”

The smallest smile graces his face. “Guess.”

“Kitchen.”

The hell? “How’d you know?”

“You’re always in there.”

Can’t deny that. The glasses are both set to dry in the dishwasher as Yoongi’s amusement dies down, and his next comment flows out before he can think much of it, “You like to keep me in here.”

“It does seem to be where we end up, huh?”

“It does.” Which is fine by him. He’ll never forget all the times you’ve been in here. Your laughter and your storms, he will remember them all.

“The world said let them cook.”

Your giggles will be the fucking end of him one day. Fuck, he can’t wait to see you. He may even find a way to see you before the game.

But for now, Yoongi will figure out how to talk to you, every day, no matter what. Texts, calls, whatever the fuck. The effort has got to show from now on. No more of this dark headspace shit. He needs to try harder and figure it out faster. For you.

“Go to sleep, doll,” he huffs with full cheeks.

After another adorable batch of sounds, you rustle on the line before sighing,

“You better sleep, too.”

“I will.”

With a blink, Yoongi notices two things. One, he just cleared his table and cleaned up without even thinking. And two, despite feeling like absolute shit the entire day and dreading the coming of night, falling asleep won’t be an issue.

Because of you. It’s always you.

Maybe there’s a way out. Maybe he can finally face it all and come out on the other side. “Talk to you tomorrow, babe.”

“I’d like that. And you’re sure he doesn’t know?”

Just like that, the demons are knocking again. Closing his eyes, Yoongi murmurs into the receiver, “I’m sure.”

There will come a time when he will tell you. But that will be way in the future, when he is ready. For now, you’ll just have to trust that he’s telling the truth. Not the whole truth, but enough for it to calm your nerves.

“Okay. Good night, baby.”

One more heartbeat to get him through the night.

“Night, doll.”

When the phone cuts, Yoongi’s hand falls, his stare shifting straight to the living room.

Right towards the corner that stares back.

It’s been five days.

But it feels like you’ve aged twenty-eight years.

Ever since your brother confronted you—after your much needed reunion with his best friend—you’ve been floating through time. Lost. Confused. Wondering why that conversation went the way it did and gnawing at your sanity bit by bit.

And even though Yoongi explicitly told you he didn’t say anything concerning your relationship, you still haven’t shaken that feeling. No matter where you are, who you’re with, or on a pretty Friday like this one, you feel… Strange.

When you saw your brother waiting, you for sure thought you were gonna get grilled. It was a given you were gonna break as soon as he started asking deeper and more specific questions. The fallout was gonna happen in your own house right at your door.

…So what in the fuck was that?

You shift your legs, the chill of the office failing to comfort you in your manufactured, building distress.

Somehow, that version of the conversation proved much, much worse. Because now you’re spiraling trying to figure out why he just took your lie as the truth. Truthfully, you feel nauseous. And as much as you need to get some semblance of closure, you still feel hesitant. Because if he’s just biding time? He’s not just thinking about what to do with you.

He’s thinking about what to do with Yoongi, too.

This is so hard.

The only thing—the only thing—keeping you grounded. Is Yoongi himself.

Ever since the call you never thought he’d answer, you’ve been contacted every night. What was once days of radio silence quickly shifted to him reaching out however he could, hours of the day be damned. Just last night, in fact, Yoongi sent you texts at four in the morning, and you beam just thinking about what he said so casually.

Yoongi [3:57am]: That keyboard I told you about is fucking dope. Just got it today and it won’t let me sleep lmaooo

Yoongi [3:58am]: I was gonna say sorry for texting but fuck it you’re getting all the updates :)

No matter what it is, be it a text, call, or video chat, Yoongi seems fully committed and in the moment. Present. And it’s been… Really nice. If you didn’t have your brother’s shadow hovering over your brain, life would be practically perfect.

Forcing yourself to actually work, you manage to get some small things done. Even the meeting you attend goes smoothly and you leave any outside worries on the other side of those glass walls.

So when you get back to your desk, an awaiting paper bag makes you pause. And your whole body prepares to weep.

Only one person has ever sent you food while you’re at work. And staring inside the parcel, you would’ve been able to tell who it was from even if said person had never sent any before.

There’s a small note on top of a to-go container—one that you immediately recognize as that super good restaurant next to Jungkook’s studio.

What the hell? How did Yoongi know you wanted some this whole week but didn’t wanna risk being so close? With careful fingers, you pluck the tiny paper from the bag, opening it with care before your eyes get so teary eyed you can’t even read.

Tonight.

This man.

I got the next one.

This wonderful, charming man.

But you’re getting what I need so here’s the list:

Goddamn it, Min Yoongi.

Seeing an actual list of food squeezes a laugh through your throat in a squeak, tears rushing out of your ducts before they’re hastily swiped.

After five days. Yoongi really just sent you on a grocery run to surprise you with another meetup.

The gesture is so him that you cannot help but shake your head, ruefully huffing to no one and pocketing the note in your bag. And all your worries scatter even further.

A dinner before the big game is risky, for sure, but at this point you couldn’t care less. Your brother has his own work outing tonight, anyway, and you are dead set on breaking all of this to him soon.

Even though you are very much unprepared. And he is going to lose his fucking mind if he doesn’t know already. Fuck.

You’ve had all five days to think it over. All the possible combinations and possibilities and outcomes. Some of them are extreme, some of them are hopeful. But for a majority of these projections, you have a feeling that none of you are gonna leave it without wounds.

And you don’t know how you’re gonna save both of them if theirs are cut too deep.

Regardless, that’s in the future. Not now. Right now, you are staying in the present and working like molasses until you can jet out the door, nary a care nor concern weighing on your heels.

Tonight. He’s gonna cook for you?

You’ll have the first substantial meal you’ve had in months.

Even though you want nothing more than to see Yoongi, your nerves are still buzzing and bumping into each other nonstop. There’s a lot you still need to know. Like why he was radio silent for months, and why your brother has been a little weird this whole week.

Save it for later. Hopefully Yoongi will tell you why eventually. Or that gap will stay elusive to your brain forever.

Sliding into your car, you dump your bag in the passenger seat before pulling out the list, clutching it close and taking a leap that could either calm your nerves or spike them.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

When he picks up, you legitimately don’t answer. Because even after all this time, you still can’t quite function when you hear that deep voice addressing you directly.

“Hey.”

All you have to do is say something. Anything. You could rattle off the damn list, stumbling over all the syllables just like they’re currently smushed together in your fingers.

But you don’t snap out of this trance until he speaks again.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” you squeak out, clearing your throat while watching other people walk to their cars. “Hi, sorry. I just umm.”

You just what? Somehow lost all sense of language just from him saying hi? Get it together. Stop that racket in your stomach and say what you were gonna say. “Thank you for the food. I’m off work now so I’m heading to the store.”

He simply huffs a quiet laugh.

“Get whatever you want, too. Just let me know how much it is.”

Huh. Did Yoongi just say all those words in that order? If you heard him right, forget the damn food. You’re close to speeding directly to his place and breaking down the motherfucking door. “Oh, I definitely will,” you respond with instead of hauling ass, the words pushing through your lingering smile. “And don’t worry about that, I got it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah! I got big girl money now.”

Yoongi laughs again on the line, fuller and closer this time. Are you on speaker?

“It’s like that? Maybe I should work there, too.”

“Oh, you’d hate it,” you giggle, scheming hard in your head for tonight already. Pretty bubbles in your ribs lift all your spirits. “I’m actually pretty bossy here.”

The groan that seeps through your car should be illegal.

“That is literally what I’ve been wanting to see.”

It’s your turn to chuckle as you finally make your way out of the parking lot, heading right to the market that you know for a fact has all of what he’s asking for. “I’m only that way at work, though.”

“Do better.”

Your immediate response makes his laugh crunchy in the speakers, and you go along with him because life is good. Life is fucking great right now. “Never mind, you’re paying. And I’m getting stuff for dessert now, too.”

“What? Who said anything about dessert?”

“Me,” you huff out in pride. Since he wants to see that demanding side come out so bad. With a fleeting thought, you think about what it could be like if you end up confident enough to—

“I’m starting to regret this.”

“Regret what?”

“Everything.”

Liar! Your cheeks hurt as you look both ways before making a turn. “Can’t fool me. You’re excited.”

“I am.”

The way there was no hesitation sends shivers up your spine. But it’s partly because you thought you’d be faced with another joke or dig. Not a sudden one-eighty. Stopping at a light, you clear your throat before shyness puffs right out of it. “Well, good,” you state while checking your mirrors. “Cus I am, too.”

“That’s a given, though.”

“Excuse you.”

Yoongi laughs before you hear the sound of cabinets, and you wonder which ones he could be touching.

“Mm, babe. One more thing.”

Can he stop making your heart beat two times at once? “Hmm?”

There’s a little bit of pause, followed by the clank of a pan on metal. When you hear another hum, you wonder what he could possibly—

“I think we’re out of condoms.”

Who is out of what. If you weren’t still at a red, your foot would’ve slammed on the gas because what the fuck! All you can manage out are sounds without substance, random syllables, gibberish. Nothing is computing in your head.

“Wait. Or are we?”

Okay, Yoongi needs to stop with that two-letter word before your behavior turns downright criminal. With as much seriousness as you can manage, you accuse, “Are you just fucking with me?”

And his response launches you forward just as the light turns green,

“Yeah. That’s why we’re out of—”

“Alright!” you cut in, stopping stopping stopping him because for whatever reason, this conversation is too much. Despite seeing this very man naked in many, many ways, just having this talk with him is making you shier than ever before. “Guess I’ll, umm. Get those, too.”

“Nah, you don’t have to.”

“Oh. Found some?”

“No.”

Wait. If he didn’t find some why is he telling you that you don’t have to— “Oh,” you peep in realization. A very sudden, jaw dropping realization. “Goddamn it, you’re too distracting now, bye.”

And he finally breaks with laughter that’s contagious as hell. Which isn’t fair when you’re pretending to be upset with him. Even when you can’t see Yoongi, you can imagine the way his cheeks rise and his eyes crease. The way the whole room illuminates when he’s packed with happiness.

And you want that to be the case forever.

“You’re just lucky I’m not there with you.”

“Yeah, you’d be annoying as hell.”

“Damn!”

As the market comes into view, your teeth shine as you grin, roasting this man quickly becoming one of your favorite pastimes.

“To be fair,” you start to amend, fingers drumming on the wheel as you decide whether or not to say what you want. After deciding that there’s no wrong answer here, you softly admit, “I really do wanna get groceries with you.”

There’s no words that come out in response. Only the slight movements of shuffling and water running and what could be more cabinets closing. But you don’t really know for sure—

“It’s gonna happen, doll.”

You clutch the wheel.

“Cus I want that, too.”

One of these days you’re gonna see this damn cat again.

Foot connecting with Yoongi’s door, you grunt as multiple bags burden your limbs, pride digging divots along your arms—second trips be damned.

It doesn’t take long for him to let you in anyway, and you swoon at the way he doesn’t even ask while taking some of your baggage. But the kiss on your cheek makes your heart bang into everything between the front door and the kitchen. It’s so distracting that you barely smell the spices greeting you, too.

“Thanks for getting all this,” Yoongi says as you both cross onto tile.

“Of course.” Lifting the much lighter load that you have, you revel in the small thumps and thuds on his counter. Not really knowing why. “Let’s put this up before I yell at you.”

His laugh comes out in hisses while you both start reaching into bags. “For what!”

“Sent me everywhere to find some of this shit.”

“You could’ve asked somebody.”

Feeling a bit silly and high off his presence already, you repeat his words in a goofy mocking tone, and the way he blows out air sends your belly fluttering.

And just like that, things are back to normal again. No worries about your sibling, or work, or anything else looming by the door. Inside is what matters, and the whole apartment fills with jabs and jokes as groceries find their homes.

But Yoongi finds a bag you had separated from the rest, and you snap your mouth shut when he looks inside, something rising in your core when he turns to you with an eyebrow raised. And a smirk so salacious it makes you quiver.

“What about it,” you squeak out, crumbling when he simply takes the bag and flings it through his bedroom door. “You said you—we were out, so…”

“That’s a big box, doll,” he points out on his way to your tightly bitten lip. Mouth slicing through your sanity, he approaches you with a glint in his eyes. “Got something you wanna say?”

“Nope,” you whoosh out oh god he looks way too hot in those sweats wait is that a growing bulge? “Although I will say it took me forever to pick out what—”

Sparks ignite your hands when your lips are claimed, launching them into his shirt and tugging him backward because you’ve been waiting way too long to kiss the shit out of him.

And Yoongi responds in kind, pinning you to his fridge and so, very obvious that he’s been waiting for this, too.

Heaven probably wonders how to replicate this feeling. How to imitate this treasured yearning that only he can pull from the depths of your ocean. Deep, deeper, deepest. All these kisses. Your ascending affection.

“As much as I wanna throw you on my bed,” Yoongi jokes, pulling away and giving your cheek a light tap. “I’m taking you somewhere.”

And you’re so thrown from the impact that your brain mini-resets. “Huh? We’re leaving?”

“Uh huh.”

Hold on. Wait. Is this what he meant when he said he’s getting the next one? You’re going out to eat? Together? No. No, there’s no way. Yoongi knows that’s the worst possible thing to do right now, as much as the idea is sending your belly in a frenzy. “Are you sure? What about dinner? Won’t people… You know.”

“It’s ready already,” he reveals. “By the door.”

Your head snaps to where he points out, even though you can’t see through the bar. “Really?” No wonder it smells like a cooking aftermath. All those smells twirling around your head. How did you not even catch the dishes in the sink?

But hold up, you just bought a shit ton of food! “Then what the hell was the run for?”

Yoongi blinks. Then he does it again. Expression stone still, he responds as if you were privy to his plans this entire time, “I told you to get what I needed.”

Your turn to blink.

“And I needed food.”

This man is going to be the death of you. Affronted, your jaw hangs before you grit through a smile that betrays you, “Oh, you—”

“So thanks,” he quips through another tilt of his lips. “Let’s go, doll.”

The begrudged sound that leaves you makes him kick his head back on the way out the kitchen.

“Eat.”

The container on your thighs warms you through. “Now?”

“Mm.”

“I can wait,” you assure, watching as night paints the surrounding scenery in navy and black. “We can eat together.”

“Just a bite then.”

Turning to Yoongi, you don’t see a change in his face as he eyes the road. The veins in his arm catch all the streetlight, and you gulp before your gaze falls to what he made. Music fills the car, and you decide that maybe you do feel a little hungry. So you listen to instruction, popping it open and being careful as you pluck a piece to try.

There’s no denying it. This motherfucker is a chef. “Fuck, this is good.”

Your borderline moan sends Yoongi’s shoulders bobbing, and you will never get over those low, gravelly laughs. “Sorry.” Your hand hovers over your mouth in embarrassment. “I don’t react like that unless I’m alone.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, well,” you swallow. “Course you don’t.”

A tiny peek of teeth show as Yoongi smiles, and you don’t expect what he offers next, “Just be you, doll. It’s just me.”

The next bite of food pauses on the way to your mouth. “Oh,” you murmur. “Same for you then.”

“Nah.”

“Why not?”

“Cus we wouldn’t make it to where we’re going.”

That was legitimately the worst time to put food in your mouth. Sputtering, your words come out low and chortled, “You fucker.”

His hisses are brief before he dips into silence again. As he slowly turns the wheel, you can see a glimpse of something deep in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he suddenly apologizes, swallowing as you keep your gaze.

What is that look? Weren’t you both just having a good time? “For what, baby?”

“Everything.”

Your lungs flinch. This is definitely not what you expected to hear on the way to wherever the hell you’re going. “Oh.”

Yoongi still doesn’t look your way, and with each pass of a light over his face, you catch quick snapshots of those eyes you’re still so shy of. “I, umm. I didn’t expect shit to pan out this way.”

“It’s okay,” you whisper.

After a slow motion of disagreement, his head falls forward just a bit. And your eyes find his hand clutching the gear shift in what you sadly think is frustration. “I’ve just thought about some things,” he starts, another song playing. “How worried you must’ve been.”

You look forward. Because this is the part where you can’t face him. “I was. But not for the same reason as last time.” Without a hesitation of your own, your palm reaches between your seats. And you can tell Yoongi watches as you take his hand to hold.

“I was worried about you,” you correct with softness. “It was hard because I didn’t know what to do.” Don’t fucking cry. You filled quite a few buckets already. “When you started not really saying much, I just… Hoped it was for a good reason, so. Yeah.”

You feel your hand gently pulled, which is already enough to make you melt. But when it’s kissed, you don’t know what the hell to fucking do.

“I’m sorry, doll,” Yoongi whispers into your skin, lips brushing with every syllable and painting a canvas of his reconcile. “I won’t leave you hanging like that again.”

There’s a tiny fire in the back of your throat, the embers reaching your eyes just a little too aggressively. You attempt to squash the growing flames before they flare. “Oh. Umm. Thank you.” What else do you say? Yoongi’s being wonderful, but why do you feel… sad? Why is there lingering snow on your windowsill? “Were you worried?”

“Me? Umm.” He stops at a light that he clearly didn’t want to stop at. Resting your conjoined hands on his pliant thigh, his jaw works as he observes them.

And you wonder if he thinks they slot together perfectly, too.

“…Yeah.”

Fuck. “About what?”

“That you’d hate me.”

Your heart meshes his fingers with yours. “Yoongi.”

“Or that you shouldn’t be with someone that’s gone this much.”

Fuck, he’s doing it again. Regressing. You’ve seen it happen in his kitchen and you’ll be damned if all that work, all that peeling, all that resolution amounted to nothing wait, wait, stop. This isn’t gonna be an overnight fix. And you have no clue what’s been happening, so just keep trying, trying, trying.

“I’m used to people leaving,” you joke, but not really. “Like seasons.”

He whips his head to you, and you backpedal because that probably sounded so random. You’ve got to think about filtering your thoughts a little more now that you’re getting comfortable. Yoongi says you can be yourself, sure, but you have to admit your quirks are a little out there. “I know it’s weird, but..”

He’s quiet as the light turns green. And when you don’t finish, he admits, “I think the same.”

“You do?”

Your hand is brushed as a hum peppers it from above. “Mmhmm.”

“Well.” That’s interesting. You didn’t know anyone thought about that stuff like you did. Now you wonder if there’s anywhere else your wavelengths sync, and if they’ve been syncing up all this time. “At least you come back.”

Yoongi squeezes your hand tight before he holds it against his lips. Again. Fuck, this is a lot. You’re so wrapped up in his gesture that you don’t catch what he whispers.

“Hmm?”

He glances at the center console before putting your hand back on his thigh.

“Always, doll.”

And the fire you stepped on rages back with a vengeance. Heat and sting surrounds your eyes, and you don’t hide how you press your feelings into his skin. “Me, too.”

If you weren’t lost in the surrounding scenery outside, you would have caught Yoongi’s look. But all you feel is his hand clutching you tight, and it breaks you down all the same.

The rest of the drive is spent with him telling you to eat more, and a bunch of your sing-alongs to almost every song that comes on. It seems like the tiny bit of closure opened you both up, and you don’t even realize that you’ve been on the road for a really long time.

But finally, Yoongi pulls up to a building, and you’re haphazardly rapping along to a song before you notice. Wait. What? He drove you to a rec center?

Your fingers curl around his forearm before you even notice. “What’s this?”

“Where we’re going.”

Hold on, you’re going inside? “Are we even allowed to be here?”

When Yoongi responds, his teeth make you shiver as he smirks. “Can’t say for sure, no.”

“Then why—”

He unlocks before you can finish, and you’re left in an empty car until he rounds the hood, coming over to your side and opening the door. You almost don’t hear what he says next, too focused on the jewelry swinging from his neck as he bends forward.

But you catch it, and glance once more at the sight in front of you before biting your lip—in nervousness or excitement, you can’t decide.

“You comin’?”

Damn. Obviously, you want nothing more than to see him here. And it’s much too late for anyone to be around. But if something happens… Whatever.

Your mouth finally unsticks. “If we get caught, you’re gonna pay for this.”

And you can’t resist his stupid grin. “Now get your pretty ass out before I put you in the back.”

“Yoongi!”

Grinning, he leads you out, and you follow him to the trunk. After bouncing his stowed ball a couple times, he decides to lean in and reach for something else.

Wait. Is that what you think it is? “Did you always have that in there?” you ask, pointing to the contraption that Yoongi’s using to air up his basketball.

And he does a horrible job at suppressing a smile. Which makes you burst into flutters and beats beats beats. “You liar!” Oh, you are gonna wipe those laughs from his throat. “I had to change up my plans because of you!”

Palming the ball, Yoongi tilts his head dangerously to one side. “And I got to see you,” he proudly claims. “So I’ll take it.”

You hate how the memories come packaged with what’s haunted you. What else happened during that time, and what happened after you left. But there’s no way you’re gonna bring that up. Not when the night has transformed into something so magical.

So you just clutch your food and lean on his car, opting to compliment him to wipe the murk away. “Got to see you, too,” you puff into the brisk night. Because you harbor a bit of nostalgia in your bones. And because he still makes you shy. “You and your stupid hair.”

Another bout of hisses wisp into your side. As you turn to regard Yoongi again, he slips his chains into his hoodie before continuing, and you swoon at the veins popping out of his skin with each pump.

How can he look so perfect doing the simplest things? So unfair.

After seconds that feel like an hour, Yoongi’s done. And he scans the parking lot before telling you to follow him.

What you expect is some outdoor courts. Maybe getting past a gate or two. So when you approach a back door lit by the shine of a single light, you freeze. “Are we really going in?”

Fishing something out of his pocket, Yoongi simply turns over his shoulder. “Yeah. Why not?”

“Oh.” You didn’t think you’d actually get inside the building. If there was an outside court just as accessible it would’ve made sense. Can you even bring food in here? Is that question even relevant? “No reason.”

“So I shouldn’t bust in?”

Huh. “What?”

“I’ve already done it a few times, so.”

“Wait!” Nerves throw your hand on his bicep before you can stop. “What if someone sees us?”

He’s so warm. And so toned. And if he plans on taking his hoodie off? You’re not prepared for whatever the hell he has underneath.

Voice softened, Yoongi tries to placate your paranoia, “They won’t, doll.”

“Are you sure? If we get caught here they’re gonna call the police and I am definitely not… Gonna…”

The object in his hand jangles, and you clearly see he was just joking the whole time because keys—keys—stare you in the face.

What is it with him and keys?

When Yoongi speaks, you feel like you’ve never done anything bad in your life, and suddenly the thought of trespassing with an official way in is so scandalous,

“You picked the wrong night to be a good girl.”

You have to admit. Seeing him so mischievous and dashing makes you wanna follow him wherever the hell he goes. Even if it gets you in trouble. Even if you were breaking in tonight, you would be all in. And that thought should frighten you, but it only does because of the wings tickling your rib cage.

How can he make you feel rebellious and yet still so shy? The power of Min Yoongi. He’s way too good at destroying you.

When you glare, the man only grins, hisses of laughter leaving him way too happily before he unlocks the door to no alarms or sirens. He doesn’t need to throw a wink your way, too, but of course he does as he lets you in. Which causes you to float through the dark entryway instead of walk oh he did not just slap your ass!

A jolt in your cunt causes you to regard him in shock. To which he hums in a feigned question. “Hmm?”

With nothing but darkness and his cologne surrounding you, it’s only natural that giddiness takes hold. Truthfully, you’re packed with so much adrenaline that you feel a little wild yourself. “You’ve been waiting to do that, huh.”

“So fucking long.”

You are not surviving the night. And you don’t give a single shit.

But as shy and out of control as you feel around this man, you also feel safe—even in a faraway, dark building that you’ve never been in before. That’s gotta say something about him, right?

Yoongi feels along the wall beside you for lights, purposefully bumping your chest with his front even though he’s securing a ball with an arm. When you question his joking decision with noises, a chaste kiss on your lips shuts you right up.

“You’re in the way,” he jokes through what you think is a smile, and you’re about to move when he flicks on a switch very far away from your shoulder.

Liar! Your jaw drop must be comical because Yoongi’s grin stretches astronomically wide. But you cannot find a retort because seeing him so chill while you’re stiff from paranoia has you at a loss.

Is this how he used to be all the time? This carefree, all caution to the wind? He’s so fucking handsome like this. No wonder he’s pulled so many hearts just like yours.

When you still don’t find any words to say, Yoongi makes it harder, stepping so close that you have to swing the plastic container away. Taking one of your hands in his free one, he gives it a warm squeeze while murmuring,

“You’re so cute.”

“How,” you ask just as softly.

And Yoongi responds with lights in his eyes. “Just are.”

Your lips mesh with his as he keeps your fingers secured, and suddenly every cautious thing in your body gets launched into the skies, too.

But it ends as soon as it begins. And Yoongi backs away from you with a smile,

“Eat.”

“Huh?”

“Eat, doll,” he orders before turning and dribbling onto the court.

When you call out that he hasn’t eaten yet, Yoongi tells you that he already did. When you look around to figure out where to even sit, you decide on the closest set of bleachers and make yourself as comfortable as you can.

Which is impossible. Because they’re bleachers. Which is now triple impossible. Because Yoongi just shucked off his hoodie and the only thing he had under it was his chains goddamn it.

If you weren’t already sitting down you would’ve fallen right into the next dimension. How the fuck are you supposed to eat in these conditions shit he’s walking over!

Your throat seizes as Yoongi approaches, face trained as if he isn’t aware of his overwhelming presence. All he does is bend to place his sweater next to your legs. But the quick smooch on your lips makes you swoon harder than you ever have.

And the way his silver taps your chest makes you mentally hold on for dear life. Wait. What the fuck, Yoongi’s taking them off right now? Right in front of you? Just as you're supposed to eat oh okay he’s handing them to you great wonderful fantastic.

The metal links feel so warm yet slightly cold to the touch. Weighty, yet light. But you clutch them in your hand as you connect a gaze to his.

“Relax,” he orders, lightly slapping the side of your thigh. “No need to worry.”

And with bangs swishing, he goes right back to the ball waiting for him. Leaving you starry-eyed to hell with silver in your palm.

…Did all of that just happen? Is any of this even real? Quite frankly, you fucking forgot what you were even worried about.

No matter what he does—simple lay-ups standing in place, dribbling to different spots to shoot, or even lazily jogging after the ball—you’re so enthralled with his actions that you forget that you’re not supposed to be here.

And it takes your last bite of food for something to finally hit you. How does Yoongi have keys to this place? Where the hell did he score those because you don’t think he ever mentioned anything about working here. Or anywhere else other than the studio.

Yet another mystery to add to this walking, bare-chested enigma.

But there’s another question forming behind your eyes the longer you watch him practice, the more you notice how he’s actually going hard. Yoongi’s really good right now. A lot better than what you’ve seen of him before.

Has he been coming here more often than he’s let on? And why does he look so… serious? You’d be surprised if he even remembered you’re here.

Setting your empty container down, you gather the chains in your hands again, deciding to slip them over your head for safer keeping. After, you grab a water before stepping down the bleachers, hanging a little ways away until Yoongi notices you’re courtside.

And when he sees you, he stops practicing immediately, jogging to you so sweaty and shining and gross and handsome and— “Wait, you’re all swea—”

You’re pulled into a kiss the same time you hear a basketball drop, salt on your tongue and damp palms on your cheeks. And you melt right into the shiny wood floor, drifting, drifting, sailing into dreamland even though you’re technically already there.

“Sweaty,” you whisper into his hot breaths of exertion, a twinge between your legs when he kisses you even deeper—breathing, inhaling, taking you in. “Gross.”

“Thanks.”

You flash a smile against Yoongi’s lips, giggling because this is all better than anything your brain could’ve conjured on its own. When you ask why he’s going so hard, all you get is a question in return,

“You’re perfect, you know that?”

Huh? Blinking, you suddenly don’t remember your own train of thought. “What did I do?”

“Nothing.” He presses a wet mouth to your nose. “Did you eat?”

Laughing, you reassure him, “I did, I did.”

“Good. You bored?”

“Huh?”

Yoongi leans to softly take your lips this time, and you want to say he’s approaching the legal limit for kisses tonight. “Thought you came over cus you wanna leave.”

“And stop seeing you play? I could watch this forever.” You squeeze the water bottle a little tighter. “Just checking on you.” Another strike hits between your legs when Yoongi takes another, lazier glide over your mouth, and you sigh when he tugs you forward by your bottoms, fingers slick from use.

You could do this for eternity, too.

“Well I got about five more minutes in me, so..”

This man.

“Forever might be a stretch.”

“Ah, shut up. Here,” you offer through a giggle, holding the water out for him to take.

“Thanks.” When he does, he tilts his head at just the right angle to cut you through, gulping down liquid and making you do the same to your nothingness.

So unfair. “You looked like you were going pretty hard.”

Lowering the bottle, Yoongi shifts his jaw before taunting something a ways off. “I kinda was.”

“It was kinda hot.”

His laugh makes you smile, and his next swig makes you weep. “Nah, but. This is our practice gym. I can just zone out here, so. It’s been one of those things.”

Ah. Was this one of the places Yoongi ended up during those months apart? You wish he could’ve brought you along sometimes. Or at least thought about asking. It’s nice just to be around him while he does something he likes. Gaining courage, you say exactly what’s on your mind, “You can always bring me, too. If you want.”

And it’s true. You don’t really have to do much when you’re with him, because just being around him is what brightens your day. Lifts your mood.

But you have to admit that watching him play basketball while shirtless is the biggest fucking win in history.

When did Yoongi get so close? When did his eyes retreat so far away? “I didn’t wanna bother you with this,” he admits, a drop of sweat clinging onto his chin. “I don’t even put music on.”

“You never bother me,” you whisper back. Hoping that he believes you and that he will start to accept that as fact. Because it is. “Even if you’re being annoying.”

The bottle crinkles as he smiles, and there’s a soft kiss to your lips that has no real desire behind it. Just a nice peck that sends you careening down a hill of flowers. “You won’t be feeling that way tomorrow, babe.”

“And why is that?”

“Cus of what I’m wearing.”

And he says that while half-naked? Like any look on him could get any worse. “Oh,” you scoff out, fully calling his bluff. “As if.”

Well, fuck. You don’t enjoy the smirk plastered on his face. It has you both dreading and excited for whatever demon you’re gonna run into tomorrow. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He shrugs as he starts to hand the water back. “We can go soon, by the way.”

“Okay.”

But before you can grab it, Yoongi pulls the bottle from reach. “Unless,” he teases. “You wanna play me.”

“What.”

His grin shines, face glistening and turning your insides to jelly. “You told me you’d win, so. Let’s see it.”

You said that? While sober? How does he remember something like that when you can’t even recall a time or place you’d tell him something so bold. “When!”

“Right after you woke up once. Said you’re a master?”

Oh. That was ages ago. Fuck, you already forgot how did Yoongi remember?

“Oh. Well.” Your nose turns up in feigned haughtiness. “Wouldn’t wanna throw you off your game before a championship.”

“Uh huh.”

“I’d make you cry what the fuck!”

Water spills down your head in rivulets as you freeze, stunned and watching Yoongi jogging his laughs back to the bleachers like a punk. “Think you got something on your face, doll.”

“Yoongi!” What the hell possessed him to do that to you here? Racing after him with purpose, you slam into him just as he reaches for another bottle, shoving a laugh out of his throat and making him catch himself on hardwood. “Nu uh, gimme that!”

“It’s mine, I just ran out—”

“Bitch!” You lunge for another bottle lying further away, distancing yourself to quickly rip the cap off and to avoid feeling his slick back on your hands.

And it’s a lawless gym as both of you start spraying water, arcs and splashes of bottled liquid spewing over the court and soaking into your clothes and his bare skin. Which proves to get worse and worse for your wellbeing the more he gets soaked in your attacks.

Running ends up being the only option to avoid getting completely drenched, and you hightail it behind bleachers before your waist is grabbed. “Fuck!”

“Uh huh.”

You try to wrestle out of his hold, his wet forearm digging lovely into your stomach, and you’re temporarily let go just so Yoongi can spin you around.

Your back connects with solid wall, the impact shooting a grunt out of your throat before you laugh out of pure disbelief. “I can’t believe, you got me to do that,” you rush out, sentence punctuated by your breaths more than anything else.

Here you are. Under bleachers. With Yoongi’s skin caging you with radiating heat.

You can only stare as he drinks you in, no doubt looking at his silver around your neck and your chest heaving from exertion. Butterflies float across your stomach when his smile drips, and you fold as soon as he swoops in.

Everything in your being pulses hard. It’s so visceral that you teeter on the edge of sanity and logic, and the thoughts slipping through your mind are just as wild as you feel. Before you’re even aware of it, a mischievous finger slides along the hem of his shorts, and you jump at the downright boulders rolling down your front,

“Careful, doll.”

“Hmm?” You feel bad. And it feels fantastic. “What was that?”

More gravel slides down his tongue, and you shake at his attractive as fuck threat, “Fuck around and find out then.”

Your giggles add feather lightness into his murky laughs, but you’re so preoccupied that you don’t notice his hand between your legs until he slaps the inside of your thigh. “Yoo—!”

“Unless.” He leans forward. “My baby’s too scared.”

Holy fuck, you might be. Is he really willing to do something with you? In a public place very similar to where you’re gonna watch him play tomorrow? You don’t know why the fuck that’s attractive as hell, but it is.

Yoongi grips your chin, eyes falling to your lips and brows knitted before claiming your lips even harder. And despite your bones vibrating to hell, you put your all into the kiss, relishing in the growing hardness you feel against your front. An animal starts to wake inside your core, and you almost feel like stroking it. Feeding it. Raising it only for it to consume you in return.

“Fuck it, we’re leaving.”

“Huh?” Dazed, you let your vision refocus as Yoongi chuckles at your hazy state.

“Fuck this. I’m taking you home.”

For some reason, the game makes you nervous today. Even while Taehyung strides into the gymnasium with you, there’s a lingering feeling swelling in your stomach, and you don’t have any reason for it yet.

At least this is another rec center entirely. Because there’s no way you would’ve sat still knowing you had a clandestine meeting in the same place not even twenty-four hours before.

But the activity already bustling around hardwood catches your attention. Not on both sides, since only one team is here, but they are active on the other end doing drills.

Wow. They look really intimidating, matching jerseys that were clearly done professionally and warm-ups having a set routine. You wonder if this is gonna be a tough game for… Wait. That’s your brother under the basket. That’s them?

Fucking hell, Yoongi was right.

Because you’ll already never get over how attractive he looks in athletic clothes.

But team jerseys?

Seeing this man rock a basketball uniform with his toned arms and legs so visible makes you want to claw your way out of your invisible cage.

When the hell did they even get those? And why is he already slightly drenched during the warm-up alone?

As soon as you see him make a lay-up, you know for a fact that you shouldn’t be here.

Yes, you’re gonna stay and yes, you’re gonna cheer for them all game. But you are absolutely gonna feel like jumping him, which will in turn make you wanna bolt and run all the way out of town every agonizing second.

Shit, shit, shit. You’re gonna have to try your damned hardest to unstick your eyes from that man the whole time. Already, you can hear Taehyung’s teasing, and your groan is to lament your future state.

Your name suddenly rings across the gym, and four feet pause in your ascent up the bleachers. When you catch both him and Jimin waving you down from their courtside chairs, you tilt your head in intrigue.

They want you to come over there? What the hell is this about?

Sighing, you turn. “Guess I’ll go see what they want.”

“Here,” Tae offers his hand. “I’ll save you a seat.”

Your bag is transferred to his grip while you nod, and you step down onto the court, wondering if you’re even allowed to walk onto it to see them. And Jimin’s grin can be seen from miles away. “Come here!”

You gingerly step onto shiny wooden floors, making your way over and becoming hyper aware that someone else notices your presence. But you’re so puzzled as to why there’s no one on the other side of the court yet because isn’t the game about to start?

Where’s the other team? As you approach their row of chairs, your hands immediately find your hips. “What’s up?”

Jimin’s eyes stay creased as your brother explains the reason he waved you down. A very stupid, very innocuous reason. “Can you keep score?”

“Me?”

“Yeah.”

“Why me?”

Your brother uses his jersey to wipe sweat from his brow, and you wince at the brand new material getting gross already. “The girl that usually does it for us is sick.”

“And you know the game,” Jimin quickly tacks on, rubbing at some tattoos on full display. Wait, are there more than you remember? When did he get more ink?

Your sibling asks another question you had in mind, “You aren’t gonna cover those?”

“Nah. Not today,” the man elongates in a stretch. “Just got another one. This one!”

Ah, you were right. “I like it.”

Jimin couldn’t look more proud. But enough of that because you really just wanna go back and observe the game from another place entirely. “Can’t y’all find someone else to keep score?”

“We don’t think anyone else can,” your brother explains, looking over your shoulder. “At least, not the people coming to watch us.”

Cool. You get to be met with heat and sweat from all these guys without compensation. How is this something you would say yes to? “Well. I don’t really feel like being a scorekeeper for free.”

When your sibling laughs with Jimin, they share a look before he says so matter-of-factly, “Told you.”

You’re sticking with that. If you’re gonna sit next to a bunch of smelly people, they’re gonna pay… you… somehow.

A ways down the row, you catch Yoongi dumping himself onto a random chair, head tilted back before he hangs it forward to wipe sweat from his forehead.

And suddenly this temporary gig doesn’t seem terrible in the slightest.

Because one, you can sit on a team bench that will have his fine ass right there. And two, this will give you a way to objectively focus on the game. You won’t have time to be distracted by a demon and his hair that’s gotten criminally long.

“I’ll get us all dinner,” your sibling slices through your thoughts. “After we win.”

“Fine,” you sigh, taking the end seat and shooting one more glance to the other side of the court. “Then I get to p—”

The air around you squeezes inward. And all sounds plunge underwater.

Because you recognize someone you knew from a dark club walking onto the court, his team looking just as sharp and cocky as his eyes.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

You don’t notice the way Jimin’s hands flex, nor the way a familiar presence walks up to join your brother.

All you can do is stare back.

And without even realizing.

You’re already rubbing your arm.

tbc. :((

a ha ha... so how do we feel? | taglist | discord!

a/n: okay, hello, loves. apologies this part took so damn long to post! can you imagine if i tried to post everything at once LMAOO yikes talk about too much at once. but i hope this part was enough to still be good on its own, and broken, pt. 2 will be... well. you can probably guess that's where a majority of my brainpower is going to go. a/n 2: thank you all for being here! it's been an amazing two years working on this series and i cannot tell you how grateful and appreciative i am to have such wonderful people alongside me. i hope this series continues to be there for you when you need it, bc it has become that for me, too. ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

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peachypinkygloss · 8 months

Text

fanatic love — pjm

When Jimin knew about your crush on him, you didn't expect him to invite you to his apartment and to get rid of your clothes once there, but you surely don't mind at all.

ꨄ︎ pairing: popular!jimin x inexperienced/fem!reader

ꨄ︎ genre: college au, friends to lovers, smut

ꨄ︎ word count: 4k

ꨄ︎ warnings: she's DOWN BAD, but jimin likes how in love she is with him, dom jimin/sub reader, praising & degradation, a bit of dumbification, unprotected sex, masturbation (f & m), brief anal play, lots of cum (as always), overstimulation, multiple orgasms.

a.n.: you ask and you shall receive 🫶🏻 call me!jk's next on the list :)

When Jimin discovered you had a big fat crush on him, it's not what you thought would happen.

You're not good at keeping secrets, even your own, so your friends knew all about your silly crush on Park Jimin — the godly handsome popular boy from your college.

You've never really talked to him, but it doesn't take you a lot to fall in love. To be frank, the only thing you share with him is a friend group and even then you've never had the chance to exchange more than three words with him.

Well, all of this has changed now. Never in a million years you'd have thought you'd step foot into his apartment, not even his bedroom, and surely not to have that type of conversation with him — if you can call it a conversation anyway.

But here you are, backing away as he steps forward, looking intensely into your eyes. He has such a serious expression on his face and you don't understand why he does, the only thing you know is that it's making your panties wet. Really wet.

"You'd do everything I ask, right?" His voice is soft, but also stern, making you swallow as stress rises up in your body; heart beating faster, hands slightly trembling, sweat forming on your forehead.

His simple presence makes you anxious, wishing you'll do nothing stupid that could make him lose interest in you. Don't disappoint him.

"Yes," you murmur, your stare fixated on him and your back eventually hitting the wall behind you. You don't want to run away from him — never would you — but you're not used to all of this.

Anything he asks, you'll do. Whatever it is; a crush, love, obsession, it doesn't matter because all you want to do is please him, to be the one who'll make his day better, to be the one he'll think about just before going to sleep.

He already does those things for you, so why not do them for him, too.

"Good girl," he praises and your face immediately heats up. Hearing that from him makes you happy and you want to continue being good for him.

Up close to him like that you can see how beautiful he truly is, reminding you just how much you love him, how hard your heart beats for him.

His dark brown eyes are disconcertingly soft and his lips are round, big — looking so pillowy, so inviting. You don't feel indifferent under his gaze, that's what you like the most about it; how unique you are when he looks at you because you have to be if you catch Park Jimin's attention.

It's so hard to be that close to him and not having the permission to touch him. You'd love to feel the smoothness of his skin or have your fingers run through his thick, shiny blond hair. You like the contrast between his dark eyebrows and the bleached colour of his hair, it makes them stand out more.

"Come here, sweet thing," he tells you in a raspy voice, his tone low and making you shiver in desire. You take one step and your breaths are already mingling together, your head tilted up to look at him. "Let's get those clothes off, hm? Isn't that a good idea?"

You eagerly nod your head at him, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as his hands come to grip your white blouse. He expertly pops out the buttons one by one, your eyes following his movements closely, his touch making you feel hotter and hotter.

His fingers are adorned in many chunky silver rings, his nails are cut short and a small tattoo is hiding on the side of his index finger of his left hand. Veins are apparent on his hands going all down to his forearms, making them look so sinful and strong — the epitome of lust itself.

He opens the button that shows your breasts supported by your bra, the contact of his skin against yours making your heart skip a beat. "Your hands are so cold," you whisper to him, shyly glancing up at his face.

He doesn't look back at you, his attention being fully on unbuttoning the piece of clothing, but he answers two simple words; "I know."

Your eyes go back down to his fingers, seeing that he only has one button left and he doesn't hesitate to pop it out. He slides the material off your shoulders, throwing it away on the floor of his bedroom.

You're left in your skirt, and even though you feel very vulnerable right now with your chest out, you're impatient for him to discover the lower half of your body, too. So far, you aren't disappointing him, which feels good.

He unzips your skirt and tugs it down, falling down at your feet. You shrug it away, Jimin admiring your half nude body with his beautiful almond-eyes.

"Look at how pretty you are," he compliments. "And all for me."

You sheepishly smile when hearing these words, turned on he's addressing you as his, as if everything you do and think is about him. And he'd be right about that.

His hands hovers just over your hips, his fingertips tracing the shape of your curves, going up and down so slowly, making goosebumps appear on your skin.

Your chest heaves rapidly and the temperature of the room starts to get higher, leaving you breathless and flustered. This moment is very intimate and him being able to see what kind of underwear you wear is so, so personal.

Underclothes are like a secret you only reveal to the people you trust the most and this status doesn't go to anyone, it applies to a very selective handful of people. And in some cases, to only one person.

Jimin being this person is just unbelievable, and there's nobody else you'd let see you like that. Nobody, only him.

His hands sneak behind you to reach the clip of your bra and he swiftly unhooks it. Your eyes are on him, scared to look away for a second, as the garment falls on the ground. Your nipples harden from the cold air hitting them, Jimin's stare on them.

He licks his lips and gently cups your breasts, cutting your breath short. "How cute are they, mh?" He asks in a honeyed voice, melting your heart, taking your sanity away bit by bit.

He pinches your buds between his fingers, making them even harder, slowly circling them. You softly whine, feeling your stomach twist from the sensations he procures to you by playing with your nipples. They point at him, perky and erected, and he smirks, enjoying how they seem to really like him.

His hands descend along your stomach, your muscles twitching under his cold fingertips, teasing the band of your panties. It's when his eyes shift up to your face, maybe asking for permission or just to check up on you, that your heart jumps in your chest.

He passes his digit over the bow sewn on your underwear then teasingly going under the material, threatening to remove it. "Do you mind?" His question comes out low and breathy, his hands starting to get impatient.

"No..." You're quick to respond, shaking your head from side to side. It's all he needs before he tugs on your panties, sliding them down your legs.

You're now completely bared in front of him, his lustful eyes roaming over your body, making you feel really small under his gaze. His hand comes really close to your heat, but he only brushes his fingers against your pussy, tricking you into thinking he's going to touch you down there.

"Sweet girl, go sit on the bed for me, m'kay?" he softly demands, laying his palm on your naked hip. "Can you do that?"

You nod your head and he steps aside to let you walk to his bed placed in the corner of his room. He watches you crawl to one end of the mattress, turning around to sit on your butt.

It's not long until he joins you, a little grin gracing his plump pink lips. As he walks up to you, he gets rid of his t-shirt, revealing to you his 'nevermind' tattoo drawn on his rib cage that you'd only ever heard rumours about. Now you know it really exists and you find it absolutely stunning on him, making him look much sexier.

He removes his jeans too, but you're taken aback when he drags his boxers with them as well. His cock springs free and you can't ignore the heat you feel between your legs — it's burning.

You can't help but stare at it with rounded eyes. He's fully erected and just the fact that you're the cause of it, makes you so aroused. He's average, but girthy and curved and really ... agitated.

It twitches before you and you look at it with so much admiration — his cock is so pretty, you didn't think you'd have been so turned on by just seeing one.

But it's Jimin after all. Everything about him is perfect, pretty and hot.

He takes the other end of the bed, leaning his back against the wall. You start moving to come to him, but he stops you. "No, you stay right there, sweetheart."

"Why?" You pout, offended. You want to touch him, that's literally the only thing you want, you think. How can you not when his erection looks so hard and painful, leaking so much pre-cum just inches away from you?

"'Cause I'm gonna watch you," he explains softly, wrapping his palm around his pulsating cock. "And you're gonna watch me, sweet girl."

Oh.

He passes his left hand through his hair, getting the blond strands away from his almond shaped eyes, a watch crowning his wrist. Jimin really loves jewelry and you love it on him.

He gets comfortable, parting his legs a bit wider. You swear you have the most sinful scenery happening in front of your eyes and god, it makes your clit throb so hard.

"Don't be shy, baby," he smiles, eyes glinting, playful or maybe mischievous... "Show me your little pussy," he says and you can't deny him.

So you open your legs a bit hesitant, but you still do it. You lean against the other wall, keeping your knees bent and positioning two fingers beside your drenched cunt.

Jimin grins at the sight, lips parted as his eyes are strained down on your pussy, so much arousal leaking from it. "You're literally soaking wet. Didn't know you loved me that much," he teases and your face heats up again from embarrassment. He was never supposed to find out, but you surely won't complain right now.

"I've just... wanted this for so long," you confess in a quiet voice, slowly rubbing your pussy lips to get in the mood, carefully avoiding your clit.

He squeezes his cock, his eyes closely following your fingers, biting down on his plump bottom lip. "You should've told me, this would've happened much sooner..." He whispers back, making you fantasize about everything that could have happened if only you had the courage.

You run your hand over your tummy going up to your chest, brushing over your hard nipples. You love the small friction it creates, still a bit too shy to do more than roll the sensitive buds under your palm.

Jimin loves it, too. He grips his cock, tugging at it slightly, mimicking the same pace as you; slow and steady.

You whimper when you place a digit on your throbbing clit, beginning to draw tight circles on it. He looks at your pussy intently, his breath quickening each time your legs tremble from the pleasure or when you open your legs wider, desperate to feel more than just your small fingers.

When he stares at you, it's like he wants to get something from you — probably sexual, naively hoping it's more — and his gaze makes you shudder, ready to kneel before him, to give him everything he needs.

Oh, you definitely feel like the luckiest girl in the world right now. He chose you, not some other girl, you. You have to be special.

He fucks his fist as you toy with your bud of nerves, head rolling back and hitting the wall behind, hooded eyes focused on his hand running up and down his hard cock. You moan sweetly and he grunts at the melodic sounds, tightening his grip around his length.

He looks so good and it literally turns you crazy how far he is from you, and yet, you're both masturbating on the same bed. You grope one of your tit, palming it and kneading it in your hand, pussy clenching at the sight of Jimin stroking his wet cock.

"Please, Jimin," you whine desperately, clearly showing how needy and eager you are for him. "Let me touch you, or whatever you want, but please-"

He frowns, shaking his head, cutting you off. "No, you heard me, sweet thing," he begins, voice breathy. "Be a good girl and keep playing with your little pussy, mh?" He asks and his answer doesn't please you, but you have to behave.

You sigh, but you nod your head in agreement nonetheless. It's such a shame, you know for a fact that his cock would slip right away in your hole at how wet it is for him. He would stretch you out so well, you just want to feel him against your walls. Is it too much to ask?

So you do what you're told to, rubbing your clit in quick circles and pulling on your nipples, stimulating them with your palm. You arch your back and moan obscenely, bringing yourself close to the edge.

"Yeah, sweetheart. That's it, fuck," he groans, throwing his head back. His lips are parted, letting out heavy breaths and deep moans as he watches you pleasuring yourself. "Good girl, such a good girl for me," he praises, the words coming out a bit mindlessly, drunk on the way you rub your clit avidly and how your wetness drips down to your ass, skin glistening under the light of his bedroom.

He tugs on his cock, the skin of his penis moving up and down as he fucks his hand. You feel it building up at the pit of your stomach too quickly, and you suddenly stop, not wanting to cum too soon.

As you stop, you grope your boobs again instead, waiting a little before starting back up with your swollen clit. Jimin hisses, halting his movement, too, covering the slit of his tip with his thumb.

"Are you edging yourself, baby?" He chuckles, rubbing his digit over his slit, spreading his pre-cum around his dark pink head.

"Mh-hm," you nod your head, passing your fingers over your pussy lips. "Wanna cum with you," you say in a pouty voice, letting out a quiet whimper as you pinch on your sensitive nipples.

"Aw, what a cute girl," he coos, a smirk forming on his lips. "You will, now just keep going, okay?" He instructs and you execute yourself, resuming the tight circles you were drawing on your clit.

"Okay," you breathe out.

Yes, you want to orgasm at the same time as him, but you also don't want this to end. It's like one of your wet dreams came to life and you want it to last as long as possible, enjoy every second of it.

You could edge yourself for hours, you don't care. You could stop every time you feel it coming, moving your fingers away from your puffy clit, feeling it pulsating so hard like you actually have a heartbeat there.

But every dream must come to an end. You have to eventually wake up from it, even though you wish you would never.

Jimin gets his hair away from his face again, little strands sticking to his forehead. His chest and shoulders are coated in a thin layer of sweat, like you know your back is as well. Damp and hot, that's how your skin feels like.

You dip two fingers in your pussy slightly just to bring some of your arousal up to your clit, making the circles smoother and kind of sticky.

He wets his dried lips with his pink tongue, grunting as he accelerates the pace of his palm around his engorged cock. He drags the loose skin of his dick up and down with every thrust, the muscles of his abs flexing as he controls himself, following attentively your fingers moving in circles over your poor, swollen clit.

"Ah, Jimin," you moan out, knitting your eyebrows together while you work hard on your bud, bringing yourself back over the edge. You're so desperate at this point, you just want to see him ejaculate and make a mess on himself, knowing it's all because of you.

"Come on, sweetheart. You've been so good," he tells you with his low, raspy voice, always honeyed and pleasant to the ear. "Cum with me," he insists and you want it so bad.

"Yes, please, please," you beg, as if he hadn't already given you the permission to, but it comes out instinctively. "Oh, my god-!" You cry out, rubbing fast circles on your clit until your body jerks forward, hips bucking against your hand.

Jimin grits his teeth, sucking air through them as he gives quick, short strokes to his thick cock. Seeing you cumming in front of his eyes riles him up, toes curling as he breathes heavily, plushy lips parted.

"Yes, yes," you sigh, toying with your clit to ride out your high, eyes fixated on Jimin's hand going up and down his length really fast.

"Aah, fuck," he curses under his breath, the knot at the pit of his stomach finally ripping off. His cock jerks in his hand, spurting out long, thick ropes of white cum, landing on his tummy.

His hand slows down, doing long and steady strokes to get everything out. He squeezes his grip and little white beads spill out from his sticky tip, dribbling down over Jimin's hand.

You swallow as you watch the whole scene, his cum slowly dripping down over his abs, falling onto his dark pubic hair. You tell yourself that this isn't enough, that you want — need more. More sex, more of Jimin.

You then totally act on your impulses, getting up on your knees and straddling Jimin's lap. He keeps his mouth agape, eyebrows frowned as he looks at you gripping his cock and aligning it with your entrance.

His hands hover over your hips, clenching into fists when you sink down on him. "Shit," he chokes on his word, watching his cock covered in his cum disappearing into your wet pussy. "Fuck, sweet thing, don't- oh, god."

The overstimulation is painful, but you both love it.

He lifts up his head and your eyes connect, your arms wrapped around his strong shoulders. His pupils are dilated and he looks so good like this; sweaty, breathless and out of his mind.

You immediately start jumping on his cock, honestly not really knowing what you're doing, but it feels incredible, so you continue. Jimin lets you use him, his head rolling back, holding onto your hips.

His fingers have heated up, now warm, only the silver of his rings being cold against your burning skin. You bounce on his dick with so much energy you even surprise yourself, but Jimin's whiny moans encourage you to keep going, wanting to feel his hot cum deep into you badly.

"Jumping on my cock like a little slut..." He groans, guiding your hips on his lap, doing fast grind motions. "You're no sweet girl," he says, one hand running down to the small of your back, sneaking down to your ass. "You're a fucking whore," Jimin rasps out, dipping the tip of his middle finger in your tight hole.

You gasp, but keep riding him like your life depends on it. You just want to cum around him, though, and you'll do it because damn it, you deserve it. Jimin might be right; you must be a slut, but god, does it feel good to be one. Especially when Jimin's your client — hypothetically.

"Only... only for you," you manage to respond, mouth open to let out your lewd moans. He keeps teasing your ass, slightly stretching it out with his thumb now. You're ashamed to admit it, but feeling him filling up your other hole turns you totally hysteric.

"Hm? What did you say, baby?" Jimin wonders, looking at you with hooded eyes, lust dancing in them.

"I'm a slut," you reply in a whiny voice. "But only for you," you state and it makes Jimin chuckles, a lopsided smile plastered on his face. You're so down bad for him, he likes it — feeds off of it.

"That's right," he approves, collecting some of your arousal on his digit. "Only for me, sweetheart. Just for me," he repeats while circling your rim with the pad of his finger covered in your wetness.

You moan in response, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. He then smacks your ass, groping the bouncing flesh after, his cool rings brushing against your skin.

You grind on him, your hips going so fast Jimin has difficulty following up, your tits squished against his sweaty chest. His cock feels so good against your walls, your pussy clenching around him several times as you can't keep in your moans.

"I love it," you admit, not knowing how to keep your tongue in your mouth as your brain is all mushy right now. "Love your big cock, Jimin," you say drunkly, your mouth beside his ear.

"Yeah? Like my cock in your tight little pussy?" He asks, pulling you away from his neck, making you face him by having a grip on your hair.

"Yes, love it so much," you cry, sinking your nails into the skin of his back, leaving small crescent forms.

"Then I'mma fucking give it to you, baby."

You moan out loudly when Jimin thrusts up into you, his feet sinked into the mattress as he fucks you hard and deep. Your ass bounces as he snaps his hips against yours, balls slapping your wet pussy. You cry on top of him, his cock sliding up so easily as you're dripping wet, on the verge of your orgasm.

His head hits your sweet spot so deliciously, making you see stars. "Oh, gosh, I'm gonna cum," you hurriedly warn him, boobs also jiggling at the intensity of Jimin's thrusts.

"Fuck, me too, sweetheart," he breathes out shakily, gripping your hips tightly, fingers digging into your damp skin.

You lay your hands on his shoulders, arching your back as his thick cock keeps brushing over your sensitive spot inside of you. You soon cum around him, pussy clenching around him repeatedly and thighs shaking beside his body.

Your walls closing tightly around him is his last stroke and his hips steady. His cock twitches and he releases himself deep into your cunt, shooting long strings of cum against your walls.

You lazily grind on him, driving off both of your highs, limbs trembling.

You look down where your bodies connect and you see his cum has fallen down all over yourselves at how much there was. Your inner thighs are covered as well as his pelvis and balls.

You slowly lift up your hips and his cock slips out of you, slapping down on his stomach. You're both trying to catch your breaths, looking into each other's eyes, perhaps thinking about the right thing to say.

You drop yourself beside him on the bed and he passes his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a warm and soft embrace. He kisses the top of your head and you smile, placing your palm down on his chest.

"Was really good, but we need to clean ourselves." Jimin says, getting out of bed. You get a glimpse of the big tattoo on his back; the cycle of the moon and the two other drawings above his elbows before he turns around. "Coming with me?" He proposes.

You nod your head, biting down on your lip to refrain a smile. "Yeah."

a.n.: hope it was good?!!?!? 🥺 idk came straight from my fantasy so... but anyway just wanna say i start uni in like a week so if call me doesn't come as soon, it's normal (if it comes soon y'all need to scold me because my stupid lazy brain has to study). i hate school, but hey, maybe... enemies to lovers?! that'd be cool

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jimin fanfic #jimin fanfiction #jimin scenarios #jimin x reader #jimin smut

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littlemisshyperfixation · 4 days

Text

Jimin Fic Recommendations

a - angst f - fluff s - smut

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

One Shots

I want to be with you (a s f) ⊹₊⋆ moving to Seoul has always seemed like a good idea, until the bubble bursts when you realize your new neighbor is Park Jimin, and he's not the sweet angel you've always imagined him to be. Will the reality of Park Jimin forever be a nightmare, or will he turn into a sweet dream?

Ho-Ho-Home (a s f) ⊹₊⋆ Golden neighbor extraordinaire, Park Jimin, is (unintentionally) stealing your spotlight this holiday season. Despite your one sided rivalry with him, all Jimin wants is for you to remember him, to remember your past and hopefully create a future with you.

Into the wilderness (a f) ⊹₊⋆ alright, so last summer’s camp was... disastrous. from the murky green showers to the wasps nests, it was all-around a bad time. but none of those things could be quite as catastrophic as the end-of-camp counselor campfire, when you told park jimin that you were in love with him. and if telling him was terrible, then seeing him again this summer, one year after your fruitless confession, just might be the death of you.

The Boyfriend Concept (f s) ⊹₊⋆ Win a Date with a Porn Star! You saw the sign when you walked in, of course, but you had no idea your friend dropped your name into the raffle. Fast-forward to later that day, when you actually win. You are horrified, of course, with no intention of accepting and setting yourself up for embarrassment. But then you meet Jimin, and decide this might be worth a shot.

wanna watch a sex tape (s) ⊹₊⋆ When Taehyung invited you over to watch a movie, you didn’t think the movie he had in mind would be your sex tape… And you definitely didn’t think his roommate would want to watch, too.

feel your touch (a f s) ⊹₊⋆ You have always known yourself to be a sexual switch in bed, flipping between exercising and submitting control according to different situations and partners. And this camboy you are addicted to, one that seems to kinda reciprocate your interest, submits so beautifully that you just want to command him. But when things progress to levels you never anticipated, you end up discovering pleasant surprises that might just change your life.

physical (s) ⊹₊⋆ you cant seem to escape the sexy fitness instructor that seemingly is everywhere you turn. it’s enough to make you irrational.

#bts #bts x reader #bts fic recs #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #park jimin #park jimin x reader #park jimin fic recs #park jimin smut #park jimin fluff #park jimin angst #jimin x reader #jimin fic recs #jimin fluff #jimin angst #jimin smut

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justmyguiltyggpleasure · 4 months

Text

2nd Chance at Love (pt.1)

Summary: You and Karina used to date during trainee days until she decided to break up with you right before debuting. Nowadays, you're a member of Le Sserafim and have quite a player reputation. What happens when you cross each other's life again but this time, one of her members is interested in you

Warnings: none for this one, just an intro.

PT.2

(2020)

- May I at least know why? - you ask her after what felt like an eternity in silence. The cold night feeling even colder now in this almost desert park.

- I made the cut. I'm going to debut and I just can't have anything jeopardizing that. - Jimin, your now ex-girlfriend, said. Face stoic and voice devoid of any emotion like you've never heard before.

You've been dating for two years now and until a minute ago you'd swear you could get through anything together. Having been by each other's side in the worst moments. You were there for her whenever she would second guess herself, whenever she would call crying after being scolded a bit too harshly, taking her on dates on your days off just to get her mind away from everything, and she would do the same for you too.

You thought it was forever. Well... what do you know?

- Why would I ever do anything to jeopardize your career, Jimin? - you ask feeling a bit offended.

- I can't be caught in a dating scandal, much less a gay one. - she answered simply, using the same tone as before, not sparing you a glance.

- Jimin, we're not gonna be caught in a dating scandal, we could easily pass up by being friends. It's not like we were ever out in the oper, kissing in public or anything like that. - you try to reason with her. You knew that once this conversation was settled, it'd be definite.

- I'm not willing to take the risk. I don't think it's worth it. - your eyes welled up at that moment. "It's not worth it? We're not worth it? These past two eyes weren't worth it?"

- Yoo Jimin, is this a joke? Look me in the eyes and say it again. - she turned to you with those empty eyes

- It is not worth it. - it felt like a punch in your guts. You wanted to cry. You wanted her to at least show a little emotion, just so you felt like you mattered. You wanted to yell at her but instead, you just sighed

- Okay. If that's what you want. - with that you stood up and left. Letting the tears fall as soon as you crossed the street.

That's was the last time you let someone get so close to your heart romantically.

(2023)

It's been a year since you debuted with Le Sserafim. Honestly, being gay in the industry wasn't that bad, specially when you're the girl crush of the group, with a tomboy style and confident aura, you managed to attract plenty of girls. You usually slept with staff members or backup dancers, unless a female idol approached you first, you would stay clear from them. But from idols to staff, you would make sure that everyone you slept with knew your one rule

'I don't get with a girl more than once', you'd make that clear to every woman that came to you and luckily they all understood that pretty well and were only looking for some fun or a taste of the rainbow.

Le Sserafim's promotions overlapped with Aespa's and Eunchae took the chance to interview their leader and maknae for Star Diary. You stayed with you members back in your dressing room. Close as you were with your members, none of the them new of you past with Jimin.

- Y/N, can you go get Eunchae? She must be done by now and you're done changing. - Sakura asked and you blinked twice before answering. You knew who your maknae was interviewing.

- Of course, unnie. I'll be right back. - exiting the room you take a deep breath before proceeding.

Bowing for sunbaes and greeting some acquaintances on your way you get to the room the use for the recordings.

The door slightly ajar let you know the staff was already packing, maybe you're safe after all. You knock and let yourself in.

- Unnie! - Eunchae comes crashing into you for a hug

- Manchae! - you answer with the same enthusiasm and return the hug like you don't spend almost the entire day together and don't live in the same dorm. - Sakura-unnie sent me to get you. Are you ready to go? - you ask looking in her eyes failing to notice two pairs of eyes watching your interactions.

- Almost done. Let me just say goodbye to my guests. Come with me. - she pulls you before you could say anything and that's how you find yourself face to face with your ex after 3 years.

She almost looks surprised when you approach.

- Hello, Karina-sunbaenim, Ningning-sunbaenim. Nice to meet you! - you say bowing to them thanking anything sacred for your voice not wavering.

- Hello, y/n! - Ningning says waving

- Hello! - is the only thing Jimin day and she still looks kind of shocked.

I mean, she knew she would have to meet you eventually with promotions and all and she knew you were Eunchae's member. Having agreed to go out together with their respective members, she was bound to see you again. This industry was only so big. Still, she wasn't counting on seeing you today. She's caught off guard.

- Let's go, manchae. We're wrapping promotions today and I promised dinner's on me. I'll let you pick the restaurant. - looking at your member again, you say smiling softly

- Yay! - Eunchae smiles brightly. - Unnies, I loved having you as guests. Let's meet up again soon. - turning back to you - Y/n-unnie, I worked until now, give me a piggyback ride.

Sighing you crouch down and she jumps on your back laughing when you pretend to drop her.

Turning again you nod your head to the girls and politely say goodbye to everyone in the room, turning around and leaving with your maknae.

Jimin following with her eyes unaware of the other pair of eyes also following you with amusement and interest.

- I'll ask for her number next time. Maybe I can be an exception to that rule - Ningning says more to herself than anyone proceeding to exit the room leaving a stunned Jimin behind, feeling something she wasn't supposed to feel

___________________>_<_________________

Want to be tagged?

#karina x reader #ningning x reader #aespa karina #aespa ningning #aespa x fem reader #karina x fem reader #ningning x fem reader #aespa x female reader #aespa x reader #J-writes

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marxy-06 · 1 year

Text

Favorites Rec List 2

More of my favs -> If you have any recs please share :))

Kim Seokjin

Forever (@oddinary4bts)

Rekindle The Spark (@blue-jade)

The Cockpile: Change of Pace (@httpjeon)

Every Year (@another-army-spot)

Christmas Warfare (@gimmethatagustd)

Feathers (@miscelunaaa)

Embers of the Fire (@chateautae)

Min Yoongi

He Makes You Insecure (@kookiesbuckethat)

Tuqburni (@solastia)

Fuck Being Friends (@strawberrynamjoon)

Jung Hoseok

In desperate need of recommendations!!

Kim Namjoon

Sugar (@joonberriess)

Scent of a Woman (@sahmfanficbts)

Park Jimin

Tuqburni (@solastia)

Blue Kamikaze (@gguksgalaxy)

Headlights (@jeonsjiddies)

Believe it (@writtenwhalien)

Lover to Lean on (@sketchguk)

Making Him Jealous (@parkmuse)

Ain't Real Cherry (@jimilter)

Kim Taehyung

Aplomb (@vminity21)

Temping (@kinktae)

Pretty Little Things (@dntaewithluv)

Not That Good (@taleasnewastime)

Underdog (@whitesparrows97)

Good Girls go Bad (@jkstompers)

Kodachrome (@hobivore)

Tolerate it (@archivedkookie)

Tripping on Skies, Sipping Waterfalls (@bangtae-sohotddaeng)

Original Idea (@whatifyoulivelikethat)

Jeon Jungkook

Late Fee (@1kook)

Are You Going to Stay (@hollyhomburg)

In Your Eyes (@sweetaesuga)

All That Glitters (@aquagustd)

Hot In Black (@vminizzle)

Resurgence (@wintrbears)

Ruin the Friendship (@kpopfanfictrash)

Love Knows No Bounds (@jessikahathaway)

The Present (@btssmutgalore)

Kodachrome (@hobivore)

Making Him Jealous (@parkmuse)

Stay (@sahmfanficbts)

Must Be Nice (@kooksgalaxy)

OT7

You Never Walk Alone (@agustdakasuga)

Oasis (@secret-kpoplibrary)

Hurts your feelings Reaction [Maknae Line] (@thebangtancloud)

Combined Beings (@numinousher)

Escape (@amazedforjjk)

#fanfic #park jimin #jungkook #bts jhope #bts namjoon #bangtan seokjin #min yoongi #kim taehyung #bts x reader #bts fanfic #fanfic rec

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joonsmagicshop · 2 months

Text

Stress Relief Series Part 3- JJK

Summary: A couple weeks ago Taehyung asked a favor. For you to have sex with his bandmates to relieve some tension and stress. How can you say no to that

Paring: Jungkook/Reader

Rating: 18+/M

Word Count: 5K

Tags: Smut, Dom Jungkook, hair pulling, cock sucking, fingering, eating out, denied orgasm, degrading name calling.

Authors Note: This is part three of stress relief. Boy did I have fun with this one. Thank you to everyone who is reading this series I very much appreciate it.

Part 1 (intro)

Part 2

Your phone buzzing on your bedside table woke you out of a deep sleep. No one ever texted you this late, let alone called you and you fumbled in the dark to reach for your device feeling disoriented and slightly panicked as you finally grasped it, and without even looking at the display you answered the call.

“Hello?” You said trying to keep the phone against your ear as you sat up to turn on your bedside light.

“Um Hi.” Came an unfamiliar deep male voice.

You froze, hand on the phone as you tried to figure out who the heck was calling you.

“Um, who is this?” You asked as you finally flicked on the light to bathe the room in a soft yellow glow.

“It's um…Jungkook. Did I call at a bad time?”

Jungkook?

Wait…what?

You sat up straighter and tried to smooth down your hair as if he could somehow see you through the phone.

“Um hey? Sorry, I just… What's up?” You said trying to orient yourself to what the hell was going on as the numbers on your alarm clock changed to midnight.

“Um, not much. Are you sure you're okay?” He asked as you could hear his voice echoing through what sounded like an empty parking garage.

“Yeah, I just… You woke me up that's all.” You admitted biting your lip.

“I did? Wait? Oh fuck.” He said, which made you giggle. He must have just realized the time and you could hear shuffling and cursing on the other end.

“I'm so sorry we just got done dance practice and it was…well something… and I didn't even check the time I just called wow I am so sorry.” He said in a rushed apology.

“It's okay. Really.” You assure him as you kick the covers off your body, suddenly feeling hot knowing the reason he was calling.

“I am so sorry for real. Today was just a really bad day.” He says with a pause as you lift an eyebrow. You know what he is hinting at which makes you grin.

“Yeah. Do you need to come over? Maybe let me… help you out.” You purr as you can hear him groan on the other end.

“Yeah, please. Fuck. Hobi was on my ass all day and I could really use some help. As long as it's not too late for you.” He says.

It was already past midnight and you knew you had an early work day tomorrow. The reasonable part of your brain told you to tell him that it can wait until tomorrow and you could be well rested for the upcoming day. After all, Jimin had just come over two nights ago.

The words that came out of your mouth were a different story though.

“I'm sure you know the address?” You whisper already getting out of bed and trying to clean up the place a bit.

“I do. As long as you don't mind that it's kinda late. I have my motorcycle so I can be there pretty quick.” He says and the image of him driving through the dark city on a bike to get to your place is so hot it makes you gasp.

You hear him chuckle through the phone and you steady yourself.

“As long as you don't mind I'm in the clothes I sleep in.” You tease as you make your way to the kitchen and flick on the light.

“Mmm and what kind of clothes do you sleep in beautiful.” He coos. You grip the kitchen counter and bite your lip.

He was good.

Too good.

“Well, why don't you come over and find out Kook? I'll give you a hint though. It's not much clothing.” You admit as you hear him groan and you giggle as your stomach flips.

“God this is so fucking hot already. I haven't even met you and you're already making me hard.” He says lowly.

You feel your stomach turn at that little fact.

“Yeah. You like it when I talk dirty?” You say already feeling your body heat up under your too-big tee shirt and black booty shorts.

“And here I was thinking I'd be the dominant one tonight,” Jungkook responds as you can hear some shuffling around on his end.

“I mean if you want to be dominant you can be. Nothing stopping you. I don't mind.” You hold your breath as you wait for his reply.

“Today was a pretty rough day. I wouldn't mind taking some frustration out.” He says in a low voice that sends shivers down your spine.

“Then do it. Come over.” You respond feeling your core aching already.

“Fuck your perfect. Okay, I'm leaving now. I'm maybe Fifteen minutes away.” He says as you can hear his bike roar to life.

“Drive safe!” You yell over the bike's noise as the line goes dead.

You stared at the city below as you waited for him, keeping an eye out for a black motorcycle among the Sunday night traffic but your gaze kept flicking upward to the almost cloudless sky and the stars that were peaking out against the beautiful black backdrop.

Exactly fifteen minutes later you hear the distinct knocks at the door which sent your heart racing as you walked over to answer it.

When you opened the door he was standing there, in black jeans with a black unzipped motorcycle jacket over top. His hair was a stylish mess and he was nipping softly at his lip ring as you stepped aside so you could let him through.

He shucked off his jacket to reveal a tight black tee shirt underneath and he put his helmet on the floor by his shoes.

You stared at him in awe. The pictures you had seen of him over the years didn't do him justice. He was absolutely stunning in person and when he shot you his signature bunny smile with his nose scrunch you swore you could have died happy right there.

“Hi.” He said softly as you watched his doe eyes trail from your toes to your head.

You kept on what you had worn to bed and suddenly felt shy under his piercing gaze. His pink tongue darted out to lick at his lips and you squirmed.

“Hi.” You said back to him.

You both stood still sizing each other up, time seemed to stand still as well as neither of you made a move.

“God you're…wow.” He said, finally breaking the silence which made you blush and shift on the spot.

“Well thank you. You are pretty wow yourself.” You teased as he grinned and you reached out a hand. He took it and you slowly led him through your apartment to your bedroom.

As Jungkook crossed the threshold you let go of his hand and waited as his eyes shifted around taking in your bedroom.

He finally stopped gazing around and his eyes fell on yours once more, the air was thick with tension and you felt goosebumps rise on your skin as you stepped towards him.

You laced your arms around his shoulders and you looked up into those beautiful doe eyes.

“Heard you had a rough day?” You said softly as his gaze dropped to your lips.

You smirked.

“Yeah.” He muttered biting his lip as he stared at you.

Your hands carded through the soft hairs at the nape of his neck and Jungkook melted into your touch.

“Wanna take your bad day out on me? Take out all that frustration” You asked keeping your voice low as you stood closer to him and continued to play with his hair.

You could tell he was nervous so you did your best to ease him into it, make him feel comfortable, making him feel like whatever he wanted to do was allowed.

“Fuck. Yes, please. I want to….be a little rough with you if that's okay. ” He almost choked out as you pressed a soft kiss against his jawline, his eyes fluttering closed at the sensation of your warm lips against his cold skin.

It was still a little too early to bring out his motorcycle but he just couldn't wait any longer. The boys had advised him against it saying he could not afford to get a cold before the tour but Jungkook had missed riding so much he said screw it and took it out a couple of days ago.

He will admit, that the ride tonight was chilly, it didn't help he was going over the speed limit rushing to get to you.

Jimin hadn't said a word when he came into the dance studio a couple of days ago but by the subtle nod he gave Taehyung and the silly grin he wore on his face Jungkook knew what had happened.

And there was just something about the choreography that was giving Jungkook, who is usually good at everything, a really hard time.

So after Hobi scolded him for the sixth time today he decided tonight would be the night.

He did feel bad for reaching out to you so late but Hobi was getting on his last nerve and he could feel frustration brewing deep inside of him and he didn't want to say something he would regret.

He loved Hobi, he loved all the guys, but something about this dance was just not clicking with his brain and it was making him frustrated and annoyed.

“You okay?” Your soft voice brought him back as he stared at you.

“Yeah, I just. Sorry, I was thinking about today.” Jungkook said as you slowly spun him around and backed him up until his legs hit the bed.

You slowly placed a hand on his chest and pushed him down so he was lying flat. Without a word, you climbed on the bed and straddled his jean-clad thighs shivering at the feeling of his jeans against your bare skin.

He sat up to wrap his arms around you as you pressed soft kisses to his cheeks and jawline. Peppering them slowly and taking in the scent of his skin.

Your hands worked under his tight tee shirt as you ran them up and down his toned torso. Jungkook let out a sigh as you continued to kiss down his neck sucking lightly as you went.

But something was wrong.

Jungkook wasn't doing anything. At all.

His hands remained on your hips holding you steady. No moans or sighs were leaving his mouth instead his eyes were closed and his brows were furrowed as if he was trying to remember something.

You pulled back and he opened his eyes.

“Jungkook? You okay?” You asked scooting back on his lap and staring into his eyes.

“Yeah, I just. Fuck Y/N I'm so sorry. I'm still thinking about today and how I just can't get this dance right and how Hobi kept getting mad at me.” He said hanging his head.

Your heart ached for him. You knew Jungkook was too much in his head to enjoy himself. That he was having a hard time letting go of what happened today.

He was a perfectionist at heart and you knew he worked hard, they all did, which was why you agreed to this in the first place.

“Do you want to just hang out? We don't have to do anything if you don't want to.” You say softly cupping his face and running your thumbs along the apples of his cheeks.

He pushes his face into your shoulder as you stroke his hair.

“I want to. Fuck Y/N I want to so bad you're so fucking hot and I'm so pent up I just can't stop thinking about today. I'm so damn trustfrat- no frustrated.” He corrects which has a smile tugging at your lips.

You knew what Jungkook wanted. He wanted to be a little rough and finally have control. He was just having a hard time getting into that head space so you decided to help him.

“It's okay Jungkook. It's not your fault Hobi is pretty good at a lot of things. I mean he's a great dancer, he's really pretty, and he has nice fingers long and so delicate. I'd imagine he would be a good fuck too.” You say ticking off your fingers as you list all the things you imagine Hobi is good at.

You knew you were riling Jungkook up which would hopefully get him out of his head.

He stared at you, mouth parted as you smiled down at him, hands tangled in his hair as you slowly played with it.

“You think he's a good fuck?” Jungkook asks, his voice dangerously low which makes goosebumps break out on your arms and legs.

“I mean I wouldn't know, but I'd imagine he would be.” You tease as you stare down at him, seeing him get madder by the minute.

“You think he's a better fuck than me? Just like he's a better dancer than me?” He asks voice lower and tongue nibbling at his lip ring again.

You didn't want to hurt his feelings, you really didn't. You also didn't want to say the wrong thing so you simply shrugged.

Which set Jungkook off.

He pushed you off his lap in one swoop and spun you around to pin you to the bed.

You gasped when you felt his hands grab your arms roughly and shove them against your back, pushing your face into the mattress as his body caged yours, breath fanning over your cheeks as you squirmed under him.

“You're such a fucking brat you know. Do you think Hobi is a better fuck than me? A better dancer than me? I'll ruin you so when Hobi does get his chance with you it won't even compare.” Jungkook growled low in your ear as he pressed his warm body into yours.

You whimpered under him as he released one arm to grab at your chest and pull your body up so you were pressed flat against him.

His breath was ragged in your ear as he let go of your arms, keeping one hand pinned to your chest and the other hand playing with the hem of your big tee shirt.

His fingers slowly slipped under the shirt and you gasped when they made contact with your warm skin. His hands were calloused and cold as he traced an invisible line up your thigh. His fingers trailed up up up, thumb flicking over your hipbone which caused you to jolt against him.

“Jungkook. Please.” You said barely above a whisper as you felt your core throb with a need so severe you almost cried out.

“Please what?” He asks darkly as his hand finds its way up your stomach and to the underside of your breast. He softly groans when his thumb flicks over the sensitive nipple and you moan out still caged against his body.

“Please touch me.” You plea feeling his hard cock press against your back. You try to shift your hips back to grind against him but he pushes out his knee stopping you from getting any closer.

“I am touching you.” He teases as his hand comes to squeeze at your breast and his lips descend upon your neck as he starts to kiss and bite at the skin.

Sweet moans leave your lips as Jungkook works both your breasts in his hand. Alternating between left and right, keeping you pinned against him with his other hand pressed firmly against your collarbone as you whine and cry out.

“Mm, you sound so sweet.” He coos as he releases his hold on you and flips you around so you are facing him, you shrink under his dark gaze as he puts a hand on your shoulder and forces you to the ground.

The second your knees hit the floor he is already tugging your hair back and you know what he wants.

Even in the low light of your bedroom lamp, you can see the hard strain of his cock in his jeans and your hands come up to fumble with the button and zipper.

You are quick to get them undone and pull his pants and boxers down. His hard cock spring free and slaps against his stomach. It's long and veiny and the head is stained a pretty red color that has your mouth watering and your core throbbing.

“Your going to suck my cock like a good girl got it. Then I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll forget your own name.” He promises as your tongue darts out and you lick at the precum which is oozing out of the head of his cock.

“And no hands. You're going to use your mouth only and suck me off.” He says which has your hands staying pinned at the side of your body as you suck his cock head into your mouth.

He lets out a loud groan above you as you suck him. Hallowing out your cheeks, you flick your wet tongue over the head making his legs slightly shake. His precum is salty in your mouth and you widen your jaw more as you take him down inch by inch.

His hands are tightening in your hair and you feel tears pool in your eyes as your nose finally hits his trimmed pubes.

Jungkook is moaning above you and you gag on his cock, trying to relax your throat as much as you can as you swallow around him.

“Shit” He cries above you as you stay right where you are. Breathing deep through your nose and fighting every instinct in your body that's telling you to pull off and get some air.

His hands tighten in your hair and he forcefully pulls you off his cock.

You gag as it slips out of your mouth and you look up at him.

His cock is wet with your saliva and hanging right in front of your face. You move towards it to suck him off again but he pulls you back by your hair forcefully, just that action alone has your scalp stinging and your pussy throbbing.

“You're too good at that.” He admits as he helps you to your feet and you grimace slightly when you can feel the amount of wetness that was pooling between your legs. You were surprised you didn't leak through your shorts.

“Take off your clothes. Now.” He demands as you scramble to pull your shirt over your head and your shorts down at the same time.

Your body was thrumming with need as you stood fully naked in front of him.

“Still think Hobi would be a better fuck than me?” He asks with a tilt of his eyebrow, challenging you to say the wrong thing.

You shiver.

“Still not sure about Hobi. Taehyung however…” You said with a smile as Jungkook frowned and grabbed at your wrists again. You smirked when he threw you down on the bed and crawled up to meet you. His body between your legs his eyes dark and locked on yours.

You felt caged and trapped but in the best way.

This man was about to wreck you

and you couldn't wait.

“What am I going to do with you? I tried to shut you up with my cock down your throat and that didn't seem to work out too well because you're still acting like a fucking brat.” He says as he places both his hands against either side of your head caging you in and pressing his naked body against yours.

His cock curves up against your stomach and you moan.

“Maybe you should finally fuck me. Or do I have to wait for Hobi-Hyung?” You taunt shifting your hips and trying to get his cock head closer to your leaking core.

“Nah I'm gonna tease you and edge you until you beg to be fucked by my cock and my cock only. Then I'm going to fuck you so hard it will ruin anyone else fucking you for the rest of your life. Got it?” He asks.

Swiftly he moves down the bed and to the floor as he throws your legs over his shoulders. You gasp when he wastes no time and plunges his tongue into your wet core.

Your whole body arches off the bed as he smacks a tattooed hand down on your hips to stop you from thrashing under him as he licks and sucks at your pussy.

Your hands are gripping the sheets as you force yourself to keep your eyes open as you stare at his mop of black hair in between your legs. His tongue licks at your folds in a way that has your legs shaking and you can feel your body start to spasm at his movements.

Your orgasm approaches fast and you are a whining squirming mess as you try desperately to push your core closer to his mouth, to get him deeper, to get him to dull the ache that has been between your legs since he walked through the front door.

“Jungkook pl-please.” You whine above him feeling your orgasm approaching quickly. You want to cry when he pulls away and stares at you darkly. His tongue darted out to lick at your wetness coating his lips.

“Fuck!” You yell out frustrated as you sit up to look at him. He looks so smug, so happy with himself.

He presses soft kisses to your legs as he lets you come down from your almost orgasm. Your body is still throbbing and you squeeze your eyes tight as you let out several deep breaths.

Just when you feel your heart rate start to slow Jungkook plunges a finger in your pussy without warning, causing you to jolt and sit up to stare at him, eyes wide when he adds another finger and starts to pump them in and out of your body slowly.

You grip the sheets once more as you moan out his name. You grind your hips down to meet his thrusts and you are glad to see this time he isn't stopping you, instead letting you fuck yourself on his fingers which is hot as hell and has your stomach twisting.

When he curls his fingers against your front wall you moan out and arch into his touch. You are close again and feel your body tensing and shaking.

“Jungkook! Fuck. Please.” You beg out as the start of your orgasm begins to show itself but Jungkook is too quick and he withdraws his fingers which has you groaning and complaining above him.

“You gonna stop acting like a brat?” He asks as he sticks his fingers in his mouth and licks them clean.

Your pussy throbs at the sight.

You want to push him a little more.

Poke the bear one more time.

You could tell he was holding back slightly.

You wanted him to take full control.

So you opened your mouth and said the words he most definitely didn't want to hear.

“I bet Hobi would have fucked me by now.”

Jungkook's eyes widened at your disobedience and he stood up off the floor and climbed on the bed.

He was quiet, too quiet as he stared down at you.

“You really don't know when to shut the fuck up do you?” He asked voice dangerously low as he stared you down.

“On your knees face the headboard I won't be asking twice.” He demanded as you scrambled to do what he said.

You felt him get off the bed and reach for something in his jeans. You turned your head to see him grabbing a condom and when he climbed back on the bed he sent a hard smack to your ass which had a surprised gasp leave your mouth.

“Didn't say you could turn around did I?” He asked as you shook your head.

He rolled the condom on and teased his hard cock head against your slit.

You tried your best to stay still but your core was aching to be filled so you tried to subtly shift your hips back, which didn't go unnoticed by Jungkook.

“You want my cock so bad? Fine.” He growled as he plunged into you with one deep long thrust which had you burying your face in your pillow and crying out at the stretch of his cock against your soaked walls.

Your body arched off the bed as Jungkook gave you merely seconds to adjust to his length as he began to pound into you.

His hands were rough against your hips as he held you steady and used you as his own personal fuck toy. You were whining and begging as he fucked you hard and fast, the sounds from your mouth and skin slapping were making you dizzy with arousal.

“Fuck you're so tight and wet.” Jungkook grits out as he grabs your hips harder and slams into you with such force you have to hold yourself steady so you don't go through the headboard.

You are strung too tight, Jungkook's earlier teasing has you closer than you thought you would be and when he hits a spot deep inside of your body you cry out completely breaking down.

“Jungkook please-fuck-fuck-please.” You beg and plead as the coil of pleasure gets tighter and tighter and you feel yourself start to lose control.

“Nu-uh you can't cum until I say so.” He demands as he slaps your ass once more and slows his thrusts.

The whole thing is maddening and you are a mess under him as your arms collapse and your face pushes into your pillow.

Tears are streaming down your face as he keeps his thrusts slow and shallow.

You just want to cum

Every cell in your body feels on fire and you feel like you will completely unravel in minutes.

“Please Jungkook Fuck please make me cum. Please” You cry out as he traces small circles on your hips and kisses your back.

“Now that depends. Do you think you've been a good girl? Do you think you deserve to cum after what you said to me?” He asks, hands gripping your hips and forcing you to get back up on all fours.

“Please Jungkook. I'll be good. Please fuck me. Please.” You cry out not even aware of half of the words coming out of your mouth as his thrusts start to very slowly pick up the pace.

“Then say it. Say, I'm the best fuck you've had.” He says darkly giving your ass another smack and massaging the tender skin.

Your brain is foggy, your arms are shaking and you are pretty sure you'll die if you don't cum soon. Your walls flutter weakly around his cock as he is giving you just enough to keep you horny but not enough to make you cum.

“Jungkook you are the best fuck I've ever had-shit!” You cry out when he grips your hips and slams back into you.

Your body is shaking as you thrust back on his cock desperate to get to the peak and finally orgasm.

“Fuck your body is made for me. Say it!” He cries out as his thrusts become erratic and you know he is just as close as you are.

“My body is yours! Jungkook! Only yours! Fuck- c-close so close.” You warn him as he smacks your ass one more time and that sets you over the edge.

You cry out his name, half sob half scream as you finally cum. You are a spasming mess as you ride out your own high, you hear him curse above you and he pushes his body into yours as he kisses your shoulder blade and cums hard into the condom.

You finally collapse as your arms give way and your face pushes into the pillow as you cry out in relief.

Jungkook is still inside you but also collapses on top of you as you both breathe heavily and try to come back down.

After a couple of minutes, he slides his softening cock out of you and you whine at the soreness between your legs and your ass as you flip over to face him.

You watch his retreating back as he throws the condom out and heads through your apartment to the bathroom.

You take several deep breaths and stare at the ceiling trying to process what the hell just happened when he returns with a warm towel and a shy smile.

“I figured we could get you kind of cleaned up while I run you a bath.” He admits as he hands you the towel and reaches for his discarded clothes on the floor.

“No no bath tonight I'm so tired and it's… shit.” You finally look over at the clock to see it is almost two in the morning.

You were surprised no one came knocking on the door voicing a noise complaint.

Jungkook's gaze followed yours and he cursed under his breath, face breaking out in a smile as he carded his hands through his slightly sweaty and definitely messy dark hair.

“What time do you work?” He asks softly as you finish cleaning yourself up and throw the towel in the direction of your laundry basket.

That would be a tomorrow problem.

Well, I guess a today problem.

“Um, I have to be up in about four-ish hours.” You say with a soft laugh as you reach for your big tee shirt on the floor.

“How about this? Instead of a bath and dinner, I order you coffee and send it to your workplace. Is that okay? I feel bad for keeping you up so late.” He says as you nod and he smiles.

“That would be great Jungkook. Also, I want to apologize. I wanted to get you out of your head and rile you up to help you feel comfortable with taking control. I didn't mean anything I said. Honest.” You admit as he shoots you the softest and sweetest smile.

“I know that. And I want to thank you for helping. Really I feel… Well fuck I feel amazing honestly.” He says with a laugh as he gets up from the bed and you follow him to the front door.

“Coffee tomorrow…well, I guess later today I promise.” He says with a wink as you open the door for him and he collects his things.

“Sounds like a plan.” You say as he stops and stares at you.

“You're staring Kook.” You tease him as he blushes and bites his lip.

“I know I just… Can I text you again… sometime? Like can we do this again?” He asks looking nervous.

Your heart melts a little bit. You just can't help it.

“Of course Jungkook. Anytime.” You say with a smile as he winks at you and leaves you with a silly grin on your face and a soreness between your legs.

And when the coffee came the next day around ten in the morning from a very expensive coffee shop you'd never dream of ordering from you couldn't help but grin when you saw a little note taped to it with a winky face.

#Jeon Jungkook #Jungkook smut #jungkook/reader #jungkookxreader #bts smut #jeon jungkook/reader #jeon jungkookxreader #jungkook #jungkook/reader smut #jungkookxreader smut

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 5 months

Text

peppermint gum, m | jjk | and burst forth

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

It’s impossible to fall in love when you’re already in love. And Jeon Jungkook was in love. Helplessly. But what could he do? Time passed. The world became tasteless to his eyes. All he could do was hold onto the crisp and intense color of those memories, remember her words, and wonder where she was now. Savor, and burst forth.

click here for part i | this is part ii | total wc: 25k

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; this story contains parental child abuse - child neglect and abandonment; sloooow burn; mild alcohol consumption; hardcore pining JK; angst and fluff and feels; (in part ii) smut (fem reader, slight D/s dynamic, so much kissing, hair pulling, scratching / marking. grinding, choking, m-receiving oral, finger sucking, fingering, nipple play, m-masturbation, thigh riding, edging, penetrative sex, doggy, multiple orgasms); shifts back and forth between Jungkook’s POV and your POV; from lovers-to-strangers-to-lovers again :)

non-idol!AU; pining!Jungkook x noona!reader — ft JK’s helpful? friends Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin; reader’s close friend and talented guitarist, Kang Hyungu (ONEWE’s Kanghyun if you want to see his appearance, hehe, same personality); JK has all his piercings and has hair (lol)

Jungkook woke up with crusty eyes and on top of the love of his life.

Sexy.

Not.

He woke up with a start, the last dregs of an icy and panicked nightmare clawing at him. He couldn’t even remember what happened. The only way he could describe the sensation was that it was as if the color blue had become an emotion. Which was crazy talk, but honestly at this point what was new? After all, Jungkook was peeling his eyes open with effort and seeing the most beautiful sleeping face under him, even with the dark circles under her eyes.

He froze.

Oh, shit, what have I done?

A frown flitted over her features.

Her eyes opened a crack.

He squeaked and immediately ducked. Shoved his face into her chest, hurriedly wiping away at his face with the cuffs of his sleeves. I can’t show my face like this, I look so stupid and pathetic, I–

“Jungkook?”

Her voice was low and unused.

“What… What the fuck are you doing?”

He could still feel the residual ache between his eyes from crying so much, but at least he had cleaned up his eyes and felt a little less like a crispy bun left in the oven too long. “I…” Pausing, but the truth came tumbling out anyway. “I didn’t want you to see me ugly…”

He mumbled into his hands.

She snorted and Jungkook jumped as her hands settled in his waist, squeezing him, only now realizing that his sweatshirt paws were on top of the curve of her breasts. Thankfully, she was clearly wearing a padded bra under. How she slept in it was beyond him. Then again, she managed to sleep with a whole ass man on top of her, although his lower body was in between her legs.

She held onto him.

“Believe me, I’ve seen ugly. You’ll never be close to ugly in my eyes.”

She said it sleepily and with her head tilting back to stretch her neck. He couldn’t say anything. How could he? Oh, sure, if he was unserious, and he opened his mouth to joke back but nothing came out. He almost wanted to cry again. Instead, he shut his mouth and trembled, trying not to put too much weight onto her. She either didn’t care or had enough grace to not comment.

“You still snore pretty bad.”

“S… Sorry.”

She cracked her neck and exhaled over his head.

Her hands relaxed and slid over his lower back.

His eyes widened, overwhelmed by the cool, heady rush swirling through his body at her touch.

“I got used to it then, so I guess it’ll just take time,” she murmured.

For a second.

For a fleeting, perfect second, Jungkook was held by his most precious memory.

Then, she patted him in the back and her hands retreated. A soft groan and her palms planted onto his chest, lightly pushing him away, wiggling under him. He promptly backed up, turning his head away and hiding his disappointment, but she didn’t look in his direction, stretching and yawning, pointing towards the bathroom, go ahead and get washed up, I’ll get you a towel for your face, and he latched onto the suggestion to scurry away, trying not to seem too hurried, his large black parka carelessly falling onto the floor with a heavy thump.

It was suddenly cold and far too bright.

But he couldn’t run back to her.

His head snapped towards the mirror the second he burst into the bathroom.

I look like shit.

The pink flush on his cheeks deepened to red as he approached the sink, dropping his head and turning on the water. Splashing his face and gasping at the cold. Fuck, I am such an idiot. It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be cool, calm, and collected and sweep her off her feet with his newfound coolness. Instead, he had broken down and cried like a child in her arms until he passed out from all the emotional energy he expelled. Great. Way to look dumb, Jeon Jungkook. He scrubbed at his face with his palms, hoping to peel off a layer and reveal a better man, as if he was some kind of golden onion and not a fractured, incomplete, whiny little bitch.

“Hey. Hey! Maybe you’ve heard of the term facial peel, but what you are doing is not what the term means.”

Jungkook jumped at the interruption, and was greeted with a plop to the face from a fluffy white towel. His reflexes caught it right away, pressing it to his cheeks, embarrassed again. All he could muster out was a t-thanks, and then he started again as he felt her crouch and open the cabinet under the sink, accompanied by sounds of clunking.

“Here. Pick a toothbrush. Pink or purple?”

He yanked the towel off his face and saw himself in the mirror, his half-wet black hair sticking straight up, and then he looked down, startled and wide-eyed. She raised an eyebrow at him, down on one knee and prosing the choice of a light pink toothbrush in one hand and a lavender-colored one in the other.

She shrugged. “Sorry. Last ones in the multipack are these colors. I save the fun colors for guests so they can distinguish themselves.”

He glanced at the one in the holder and it had a black handle.

“Uh… I guess I’ll take the purple…”

He took it, careful not to made skin-to-skin contact.

She disappeared under the sink again.

“I have a travel toothpaste if–”

He jerked his head, his mouth full of suds.

“Or you can just use mine,” she said slowly, lowering her hand. She shoved the travel toothpaste back under the sink, presumably in its previous hiding place. “Not like we haven’t swapped spit before, I guess.”

He tried to apologize, but she stood up, waving it away.

“What do you want for breakfast?” she asked, taking her toothbrush and starting her own routine.

It felt…

Normal.

Shockingly, unbelievingly, scarily normal. Her and him, in close quarters, standing beside each other and sharing the mirror and the space. Similar to his small apartment back then. Similar to the tiny hotel rooms they sometimes visited when his previous roommate was there. These days Jungkook had a bigger apartment and lived alone. Just like her, it seemed. She had was a clean and modern bathroom, but he saw her touches all around it. The black cherry scented lotion. The large dark gray bath towel with a matching fluffy hair towel wrap hanging on a hook beside it. The black wire basket above the toilet held neatly stacked white rolls. They looked soft and plush.

Her toothbrush holder was matte black glass.

Sleek and elegant.

He leaned down and used his hands to cup some water, the used towel around his shoulders. Rinsed and spit, trying to be efficient. And not disgusting. He continued staring down at the sink bowl.

Unable to lift his head.

“You… You must be tired of me…” he mumbled, exhaling as evenly as he could, the mint flavor cooling his tongue and the inside of his mouth.

She answered slightly muffled.

But dead serious.

“You can stop pretending you are inconveniencing me and simply accept what I’m doing for you.”

Jungkook raised his head.

There was a brief heartbeat exchanged in the mirror. Seeing each other in reflection. Somehow it was more honest than being eye to eye. Well, of course, because he had been having trouble all morning making any real eye contact, but in that brief moment, in that second of time that felt like hours, in that gum bubble right before the jarring pop moment, she saw right through him. He let himself be seen, and it seemed as if she knew and accepted what his true feelings were, despite his fear of his wants being too ugly to admit. Knowing him better then he knew himself, just like how it always was.

Had been.

What?

She kept brushing her teeth absentmindedly, and then moved past him, picking up the other cup to rinse her own mouth and spit. He backed away, but not too far. Wiped his hands on the towel given to him. The unspoken intent lingered, do you still not understand what is happening here, and he did, but he was afraid to be wrong.

He was so very afraid.

And yet.

Her head was right there, soft hair and all.

His hand lifted.

She rose quickly and his hand retreated immediately. She was speaking and opening the mirror, revealing the hidden cabinet and an array of crammed skincare. All higher end brands, along with an onyx gua sha stone with its own stand, and a lip balm she plucked off the edge and applied.

“I have bread, eggs, cheese. Can make eggy toast topped with cheese and have kimchi on the side. Extra butter to make the bread crispier. You’ll like it.”

“I… wuh?”

You make the eggy toast and ate breakfast with Jungkook.

A big chunk of butter slapped into the hot pan. Then pan-toasting the bread on both sides until golden brown before pressing down the center of the bread slice with a ladle, creating a shallow bowl to drop an egg in. You had let the egg cook for a bit before sprinkling a little salt and white pepper, then added shredded cheese on top and covered the pan, giving it a few seconds to melt before removing the eggy bread from its warm home and onto a plate. Added some kimchi on the side for some prickled freshness and handed the meal to Jungkook, who had hovered around you the entire time, providing various oohs and aahs with your every action.

Your one-man hype squad.

It wasn’t the most Korean meal, but he had been drinking the night prior. A hangover meal of sorts.

You didn’t talk much.

You had already done enough. It was pretty obvious what was going on here. The real question was whether or not to let it happen. Still, you couldn’t let Jungkook cry himself to sleep in your arms the night before and not send him off with a full belly. Even if he never spoke to you again, it wouldn’t have sat right with you. It felt too heartless to straighten up and tell him to get out right after waking.

And, anyway.

You had missed him.

It made no sense. It wasn’t like you had deeply invested into those few months with him. You had been too caught up in your endless cycle of self-destruction to truly appreciate how much Jungkook liked you. It was obvious, of course. He followed you like a puppy and never wanted to leave your presence, but you had chalked it up to him being young and not knowing better. In fact, you had originally thought he was still chasing a fantasy up until last night, but no amount of your denial could explain away his words or those tears. He had grown up, at least enough to understand that reality and dreams weren’t one and the same. And yet he had clung onto those memories of you, even if he thought that the future he was heading towards was tasteless.

That took a certain kind of stubbornness.

Well, you must be stubborn to stay in love, no?

You paused mid-bite.

Jungkook was stuffing his face. You had made him two pieces. He had seemed very hungry. You spooned more kimchi onto his plate distractedly, your mind wandering. Devotion was stubbornness. Wavering was lack thereof. Stubbornness was often an act of selfishness and that was still true in love. It just depended on how one imposed that selfishness onto another.

You felt a tap on the back of your hand.

You started, blinking out of your thoughts.

He was staring.

“You didn’t finish eating,” Jungkook gulped, tilting his head. “Something wrong? I thought it was really tasty.”

This was coming from someone who would eat basically anything. Still, you took it as a compliment. Not because you needed to be complimented, no, because you saw his black-brown eyes sparkle when you half-smiled at his comment. Just for that. Just to give him the small happiness of knowing you valued his praise. You could be humble about the culinary skills you had acquired over the years simply so you didn’t look arrogant, but, then again, the result would be that Jungkook would feel as if his words weren’t worthwhile and that was not the truth.

Even if your mind wasn’t so sure, you still smiled for him.

No matter the result, you loved me back then, in the only way you know how. You taught me about your love, whether I believed in it or not. Very ox-like of you, Jeon Jungkook.

“Do you think we should go on a date?” you suddenly asked.

His big peepers popped open wide.

“A d-date?!”

“What should I wear?!”

“Nothing.”

Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung high-fived each other with a simultaneous maniacal giggle as Jungkook stood next to his open closet door with his eyebrow twitching. So much for having older friends giving their mature opinions.

“Very funny,” Jungkook muttered under his breath.

“Isn’t that how you get ‘em, JK?” Taehyung teased, grinning with all his teeth. Typically, Kim Taehyung gave off a mature, elegant vibe. He was the kind of handsome that could elevate any look with his strong features and cool demeanor. The deep baritone voice only added to his manliness. “Just rip off your shirt and bam!”

With close friends, though, Taehyung was an idiot.

“What if he walked into the restaurant and tore open his shirt?” Park Jimin snorted behind his small hand, trying to be polite but failing miserably with the nonsense coming out of his mouth. “Do you think his date would notice first or do you think he would get arrested first?” The epitome of cute and airy, Jimin was the type that ended up being social because he looked so approachable with his soft features and endearing eye smile. He always drew in a crowd with his genuine emotion behind his carefully considered words.

Which meant that Jimin was also the type to rub in the teasing until he really, really grated those nerves.

Sigh.

“You’re not helping, guys,” Jungkook growled, thumbing through his very monochrome closet. Black, white, gray, classic blue denim. Not much color. Shit, was he really this boring? Honestly, he ended up selecting basics mostly for the reducing decision fatigue when picking out an outfit for every day. It did not, however, help when he needed to impress.

Especially because Jungkook rarely wore or owned any formal wear.

Was a dress shirt too much? Too little? Not a good indication of the kind of man he was now? He didn’t want to portray like a better or false version of himself. But he had to look good. Fuck. This was way easier when his only goal was to get laid and not to have a relationship.

“You still haven’t told us who it is,” Taehyung piped up, still sitting on the end of Jungkook’s bed with Jimin. One would think the fashion model of the two would get up and start pulling things, but he didn’t budge.

“Yeah, we need deets,” Jimin chimed in. “We can’t suggest anything without context.”

Jungkook responded flatly. “It’s a girl.”

He could practically hear the eye roll in Jimin’s response. “Wow, what an underwhelming gender reveal. Next time bring those poppers with pink confetti while you’re at it.”

“Uh, well, do you know her personally or is this blind date status?” Taehyung asked, sounding confused.

“I know her.”

Jungkook knew precisely why Taehyung was confused, but didn’t address it. Jimin, however.

“Why are you being so cagey? By now you would have shown us a pic.”

Yeah, by now, he would have shown a face photo or even the dating profile. To be honest, Jimin was the most useful on pinpointing perfect outfits that screamed “fuck me now” even with only a few pics or a limited text exchange. He was some kind of wizard at that. Personal experience? Who knew. Taehyung ended up being emotional support and occasionally the voice of reason.

“Ugh, is it that stuck-up bitch from a couple months ago?” Taehyung suddenly stood up, coming up behind Jungkook. “I don’t like her.”

“I told you I didn’t even sleep with that one,” Jungkook mumbled, moving away as Taehyung thumbed through his jackets, took out a fitted light denim one, and put it on himself, modeling in the full-length mirror for who-the-hell-knows-what reason. Too casual, right?

“Good, because nobody liked her,” Jimin tutted.

Yet she did look similar to a clean someone.

Not as pretty, though, Jungkook knew.

Sometimes he had to take what he could get. Not that time, because they were both right. That woman’s personality was awful. Had been best to run right away. Jungkook frowned as Jimin stuck his hand out right in front of his face, waving it around.

“Give me your phone.”

“No.”

“We need pics!”

Jungkook offered one detail. “She’s hot.”

“No shit?!” Jimin gasped sarcastically. He staggered back with a fluff of his bleach blond hair. “That’s so out of character for you!”

Jungkook glared and thought about biting him.

Did not.

For now.

“Ah!”

Jungkook froze. That was the type of exclamation Taehyung let out when he realized something important. The kind where Taehyung pointed upward and popped his fist into his open palm, about to say the very important thing and blow everyone’s minds.

“It’s her, isn’t it?”

He could sense Taehyung was facing him now. Jungkook couldn’t raise his head to look. His abrupt muteness was enough of answer. He felt Taehyung’s strong hand on his shoulder, but he continued to stare at his clothes as if they could magically answer in his stead, chewing on the left side of his lower lip nervously.

“Am I right, Jungkookie?” Taehyung asked again softly. “I thought you said she disappeared.”

It’s impossible to fall in love when I have always been in love with you.

There was a pang in his chest, sharp and intense.

“Guess… Guess nobody disappears forever,” he finally muttered.

Jimin jerked back, stunned. “Woah, wait, wait.”

Taehyung knew more than Jimin. Not really for any other reason than gut feeling. Somehow, after he had finished moping and feeling sorry for himself, Jungkook had felt that Taehyung would understand the intensity of it all. Taehyung had a grounded personality, but there was certain je ne sais quoi about the dark-haired man. Call it a hunch from the partial truths of described rendezvous in Paris and his occasionally off-the-cuff viewpoint on things. Taehyung had always been inseparable from Jimin ever since they met, so Jungkook had to tell the other male too, but back then Jimin was kind of a…

Well.

A slut.

Safe and consensual, but dude had been going through his hoe phase. He hadn’t been in a place to understand how profound those memories had been for Jungkook. Therefore, Jungkook had just said he really loved her despite the short timeline. Jimin had told him he was an idiot to believe that. Taehyung had whacked Jimin in the back of the head for that. He did apologize right away, but it wasn’t until years later that Jimin really comprehended the depth and apologized. By then, though.

It was all too late.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Jimin worriedly chittered. “She broke your heart last time. Bad.”

Jungkook looked up.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you?” Taehyung persisted. “Come on, don’t act like we haven’t noticed you have a type. You think Jimin and I are cross-eyed and blind? Not to mention you usually drop girls like hot potatoes with your weak-ass excuses.”

“Yeah, for instance, you randomly stopped seeing one girl because she liked sweets,” Jimin pointed out.

“She likes sweets,” Jungkook interrupted. “But only sour candy. She would always give me any chocolate she received.”

Taehyung rubbed his forehead, his tan skin glowing under the overhead lights. “Dude.”

“This is not good for you.” Jimin sighed, expression apprehensive. He resembled the skeptical emoticon with his rounder and more animated face. “Setting aside if she has become a better person or not… why now? And could she really be as great as you think she is or are you trying to make her live up to an impossible fantasy?”

“It just happened,” Jungkook snapped. “We ran into each other the other night.”

Jimin frowned. “A little fast, isn’t it?” He was slipping into his Busan satoori with his frustration. It often came out around at the same time Jungkook’s did since they were born in the same area.

“Did you at least talk to her for a long time?” Taehyung playing devil’s advocate in this case. He loved a swift romance, as unlikely as it could be. Red string of fate, soulmates, the works. “What was it like?”

Jungkook would never call himself a poet.

He simply answered exactly how he felt.

“It was like I was able to finally come home after a long journey,” he breathed out.

Jimin and Taehyung exchanged a look. But Jungkook didn’t care anymore, lost in her smile, her touch, her smell, lost in that night. It didn’t make any sense, of course, because she was vibrant as she was calm, but that was how it was. Coming home. Like bursts of color back into his desaturated world. From the mundane to the extraordinary, even from something as basic as standing beside each other and brushing their teeth.

He had just liked knowing it was her.

“Did you guys sleep together?”

Jungkook gave Taehyung a side-eye. He got a shrug in response.

“No. We… went home.”

What?

Was he supposed to say, no, I ended up at her place and I cried myself to sleep in her arms? Hell no. Some things were meant to be secrets. Even Jungkook had good enough sense to leave well enough alone. Couple white lies here and there weren’t going to condemn him. Sex before marriage might, but, eh, in that case he had been damnned for long before now. Whoops.

“Uh huh,” Jimin mused. “Alright then. Let’s pick an outfit.”

“What about this?”

“Taehyung, you would wear that,” Jimin scolded, pulling out an olive-green bomber jacket.

“Aren’t sweater vests are outdated? I saw that on TikTok.”

“They’re not outdated!” Taehyung scolded Jungkook, putting back the black sweater vest with white trim. “Also, real life is not TikTok, dork. I was thinking without an inner shirt, anyway. Show off the arms.”

Jimin hummed, considering. “Something lighter. Do you have something similar in cream? Or beige? Plus some medium wash blue jeans and a studded belt. She was kinda edgy, I remember.”

“Uh, lemme look…”

“Beanie?”

“Yo, the hat hair?” The Busan dialect was coming out again due to Jimin’s agitation.

“He looks cute in them!”

“We’re not serving egg even if he is over easy.”

It took a moment for Jungkook to register the scalding degree of that burn.

“Hey!”

“What should I wear?”

“Clothes?”

You turned around to see Kang Hyungu with his raised hands and a clueless expression. “Normal people wear clothes to a date,” he reasonably stated.

You answered dryly.

“Very funny.”

You were not amused. The cerulean-haired guitarist struggled and turned away from the video call, rummaging around in his kitchen and making a lot of noise. From this angle you could peek the bottom of his dark purple undercut and his cutesy Pingu t-shirt. Hyungu was a very manly looking guy, but he never hesitated to wear graphics that he found adorable. Too secure not to.

“You didn’t order take-out again, did you?”

He made a noise that was neither affirmative or negative, which meant he definitely did. “I’m not in the mood to cook.” The word cook was being used generously here.

“Which means you made melodies all day, huh?” you interjected.

Hyungu stuck his big eyes and handsome (yet generally expressionless) face back onto the screen. “It’s such a burden to be so talented and hardworking, but someone has to do it.”

You ignored his plight. “Should I wear a dress?” you asked, pawing through your hanging articles of clothing.

“Duh.”

You frowned and looked over the dresses one by one. None of them felt right though. The date was a meal and then who knows. There was a variety of shops around the area, so it might be fun to look around and talk, perhaps. Tight dresses out, probably. You weren’t about to freeze your ass off for the vibes.

“Maybe I should wear pants?” you wondered out loud.

“Nah, noona. You look way better in dresses.”

Despite not having much expression around strangers, Hyungu had strong opinions when asked. In fact, he was so quiet that he often faded into the background before chiming in at the most random of times. He was one year younger than Jungkook. Upon first glance, he looked older, but anyone who knew Hyungu personally was subject to his seriously unserious nature.

“Who’s the guy?”

“Somebody I used to know,” you replied absentmindedly, pulling out a high-waisted black skirt with silver hardware and pleather suspenders. Hm.

You heard the frown in his voice. “Someone I know?”

“Nope.”

“I don’t like him.”

“You don’t like anybody I go on dates with,” you shot back, pulling out a white ruffled shirt and a black velvet one. The skirt was designed to sit right under the bust so some type of undershirt was a must. The white seemed too contrasting. You could unbutton a few buttons of the black velvet dress shirt, or maybe go for a fitted red-and-black striped top to make it more casual. Maybe more casual was the move. The sushi restaurant wasn’t upscale. But, also, you didn’t care about being overdressed. A loose t-shirt might be a cool vibe too. Choices.

“They like you for the wrong reasons,” Hyungu scolded, ramming noodles into his mouth.

“Who cares?”

Nah, black velvet shirt it was. More comfortable and the mixing of textures made for a good monotone outfit. Plain black knit thigh-high socks were a no-brainer too. Plus, then you could wear black boots which was better for the colder weather.

“I do! They’re lame and disrespectful.”

You hunted for your sterling silver guitar pick necklace. “I keep telling you that I’m not looking for a relationship with them.”

“Well, you should look for a relationship with someone.”

You upturned your lips and raised an eyebrow at the screen of your phone propped up against your perfumes. Hyungu’s face still hadn’t changed much from his baseline neutral, other than one cheek bouncing up and down with each chew. At least he had the decency to keep his mouth shut. “This again?”

“You deserve to be happy, noona.”

He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You paused.

Then you rolled your eyes. “Some guy isn’t gonna make me happy.”

“The guy will make you happy.” And then Hyungu shoveled some rice in his mouth. He was a man of equality. All carbs were his friends.

You let out a silent, heavy exhale. “You’re so sure about that.”

“Yeah, I am,” he continued with a munch. “Even if you’re delusional about it.”

You puffed one cheek. “I’m not delusional about anything. I’m very rational.”

“I might have been drunk but I wasn’t blind, noona.”

You froze.

“I’ve never seen you act that way around a guy, ever.”

You tapped your fingertips against your dresser drawer, out of his field of view. The long seconds ticked by. Fuck it. “What do you think of him?” you questioned.

Hyungu made a scrunched face as he fought with the lid of a container that seemed to contain cucumber salad. His mother must have made it for him. “What was his name again?”

“Jeon Jungkook.”

“Oh. Yeah, he was with the group that was friends of the band, right?”

“Yeah.”

He paused, twisting his lips to one side. “Mmm, can’t really remember that well. It was kind of noisy and you know how it is for me when there’s a bigger group and I’m not super close with anyone there.”

Your shoulders slumped. “I thought you said you were fine.”

He waved a hand, debating for a moment before simply eating out of the container. “Gotta keep trying to get used to it. Anyway, I was more focused on getting along with the band since we have five more shows. But he did help us in getting home. He must not be a bad guy.” He looked up at you. In some ways, Hyungu was the most honest when he was playing guitar. People not close to him found him hard to read.

He was no mystery to you, though.

“Can’t you tell that he really likes you?”

You broke his gaze, almost guiltily.

“No one is supposed to like me. I’m scary on purpose.”

Hyungu laughed.

“You’re never been scary, noona.”

In the silence that followed, you and Hyungu had a silent conversation in words unsaid. You didn’t look towards the screen, preferring instead to turn around and look through your jackets, pretending to search for something. You had been told before that you were unapproachable. That was by choice. You didn’t need nosy loons talking about shit that they didn’t know about. Thankfully, Hyungu had never done that. He simply told you what was what. Again, he was highly observant and, apparently, he had paid attention to Jungkook’s obvious signals.

“I don’t know the history between you two, but you would be crazy not to go for someone who looks at you like that, noona.”

You turned around halfway, cocking your head. “Have you ever known me not to be crazy?”

He shot you one of those looks of his. The fed-up-with-your-shit look. “Then you would be stupid. And I know you’re not stupid,” he warned, as if it was a threat. “Wear your long black fur coat. My mom is calling. Have fun.”

And then you saw him reach over and end the video call.

You stared at the phone screen as it faded to black.

Then you scoffed, shaking your head.

“No need to be so weird about it, sheesh…”

“Uh, before I forget, I meant to tell you that you look really nice today, noona.”

She stepped out of the restaurant and gave him an amused smile. “After the meal?”

“S-Sorry!”

Jungkook knew Jimin and Taehyung would call him an idiot. Taehyung had told him repeatedly to remember to compliment her and stuff like that, but they had gotten so caught up with catching up on each other’s lives after their parting that Jungkook had forgotten. He had told her about his video editing job at a music company and how he was working more towards production and directing. She had told him about how she worked to live, but her day-to-day job turned out to be a book editor with occasional other side projects. Somehow, strangely similar types of careers. Jungkook had told her about his friends and their antics. How he realized he was losing opportunities to make memories by staying in so he was trying to go out more to treasure those people. She had told him about how she never grew out of her gaming habit and how, with money, it had gotten worse. And how the rest of her free time and cash was spent on going to festivals and events to support Hyungu and his band, but it turned out she really loved discovering indie music as much as the next pop hit.

It was as if they were…

Friends.

It had been so easy, so simple despite his initial awkwardness. He had thought, for a moment, that she regretted asking him, but as soon as they sat down, she gently prodded him with conversation. The restaurant atmosphere left them alone together out in public. It was surprising because he remembered, back then at the PC bang, she had been prickly and reluctant to engage in human interaction. Now, she was confident and involved in their conversation. He saw flashes of her old, closed-off self when she paused before telling him something about herself.

But then she seemed to brush it aside and spoke calmly.

Is it because of me?

He didn’t know. It was clear, however, that things had changed.

She had become more whole and, in turn, more beautiful.

“Thanks, though,” she said with a laugh, buttoning her long black fur coat. Jungkook was a bit said about that because the all-black skirt and velvet shirt combo with the guitar pick silver necklace was so cool. Still, it was a frigid night, so he understood.

“I really did mean to tell you right away,” he insisted. They had chosen to walk around a bit to walk off the Japanese food they had just enjoyed. He was jam-packed with sushi.

“Your stunned face tipped me off enough. And the literal five seconds of silence and constant staring when I sat down.”

He felt his cheeks heat. “O… Oh.”

“I like how you look today too.”

She smiled at him.

Jungkook nearly stumbled. “T-Thanks! Although… I actually had a little help,” he admitted, sticking his hands in the pockets of his olive-green bomber jacket again. He had almost tripped only because his black combat boots had a platform. That was all. Yeah. Not because he dearly loved her smiling at him or anything.

“Well, they have a good eye, so I appreciate them.”

He tried not to roll his eyes. “They would love to hear that.” But he wasn’t going to tell them. Nope.

“Hey.”

He stopped as she paused on the sidewalk. Turned around and she was looking down the street before back at him. A moment of hesitation.

Then.

She held out her hand.

Jungkook stared at it with wide eyes, his jaw dropping.

Her expression was between sheepish and amused, the corner of her lips ticking upwards. “This is a date, right? Let’s try it. Holding hands.”

He didn’t know how to feel. It wasn’t as if he was foreign to public displays of affection, but back then he had always been the one to initiate. It had seemed that she tolerated it and he had continued to do it, blind to the inequality of affection. She had only initiated sexual activity, about as often as he did. But something like this? It was only now that he realized how much he had wished she had, even if only in private.

To others, it would seem odd that such a small action of affection would hold much significance.

He reached out.

Fingertips hovering over her palm.

He raised his head and Jungkook looked right at her, blinking hard, wondering if he was dreaming.

“Is it… Is it really okay?”

Her small smile shone in her eyes.

“Unless you have sweaty hands?” she lightly joked.

He felt his cheeks flush hotly. The innocent comment suddenly reminded him. “Oh, uh… k-kinda, actually… w-well, they might g-get clammy ‘cause they get that way when I’m nervous, um…”

She let out a chuckle and dropped her hand.

“Okay.”

Before he could blurt out a hasty, w-wait, she stepped forward and hooked her hand in the crook of his elbow, resting her fingers on his right forearm, so close now that he could smell her warm, comforting perfume.

“How about this?”

She tugged him forward with their linked arms. He looked down at her, startled, but now there was mischievous glint in those mysterious orbs shadowed by lashes. His skin prickled from the closeness, even underneath all the layers. Legs moving forward even if his brain hadn’t caught up.

“You thought I didn’t remember that you like skinship?”

“I… I thought…” He swallowed, trying to clear his throat and the fluttering of butterflies that had shot up from his stomach and into his throat. “I thought you hated it.”

She shrugged. “Normally I do. But I want you to be my exception.”

It was a good thing walking was a muscle memory action because Jungkook was pretty sure he was in a different daydream dimension at her response. Er, nightdream? Whatever. He couldn’t fuck this up. Well, the crying on the couch was always a point against him, probably. He winced at the cringey memory.

“Noona, um.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry about the other night to your place.”

“You mean when you sobbed and became a puddle on my sofa.”

Ouch. “Y-Yeah…”

“I can’t say I expected it. It’s all good though. I’ve fallen asleep on that couch countless times.”

It’s impossible to fall in love when I have always been in love with you. At the time, he had been too emotional to gauge her response to everything he said. Maybe this was all a pity ploy to his extreme reaction. He didn’t want to believe that, but his mind was restless at the thought.

He needed to know.

“I meant it though. Everything I said.”

“I never took you for a liar,” she answered, holding onto him as they walked in step, their bodies lit up by the various colored lights each shop used to entice customers to enter.

He had to inhale deeply before asking. “I should have asked you how you felt though, before running my mouth like that.”

There was sound all around them. Noisy cars. Music from inside the stores and blasting dully from vehicles. Chatter from people all around them, on phones or huddled together. The echoes of steps blending together into an endless nighttime march. The occasional laugh or dinging of a bell when someone left a store. People who passed them glanced quickly before looking away.

It was conceited, but Jungkook enjoyed seeing their flashes of envy, even if all strangers could see was their outward appearance.

None of them knew the whirlwind between these bodies.

“I am the kind of person that always believed the past is in the past,” she finally said, holding onto him tighter. He tried not to stiffen when he realized the back of his upper arm was right by the side of her clothed breasts. “It took me a while to accept that I can’t do anything about the past or how it affected me. Likewise, I don’t really believe in reconnecting with people. Drifting apart is natural. Not negative or positive, per se. Just happens. I always believed it happens for a reason.”

Oh.

He bit the left side of his lower lip. She continued.

“You asked me back then, aren’t you afraid that I’ll forget you? I answered a bit cheekily, I remember, but your question stuck with me. Nobody has ever asked me that, you know? In fact, I am used to being forgotten.”

There was something about her voice.

The quality of it had gotten mistier. Introspective. And hurt. It was not directed at him, but it was there despite an obvious attempt on hiding it. He felt her grasp onto him tighter, although maybe it was less about the physical aspect and rather to the things he had said.

“I had become so used to it, in fact, that I thought your question was ridiculous. Forget me? Of course, you will. It would be better if you do. We all need to move on from our past and not cling to a memory holding us back.” She let out a mirthless laugh, but softened, leaning her head against his shoulder. If the current topic wasn’t so serious, Jungkook would have been over the moon. His heart beat fast regardless. “But you didn’t forget me. Even after all this time. I thought it was just because you wanted your dick blown.”

To be fair, that was a reason on the list.

Lower priority, but there.

Jungkook, once again, shut his mouth and left well enough alone.

She let out a breath.

It quivered in the cold, crisp night air and disappeared.

“I use reason and logic in my everyday life to interact with others. To maintain relationships. But love? Love is something that has no reason. I don’t know how I feel towards the idea. I would not say the emotion is afraid, but it is not a positive one either. The idea of love constantly reminds me that it is something I lack. That something so basic was supposed to be mine, but I was denied it throughout my childhood without knowing it.”

She stopped.

Jungkook turned and saw she was gazing up at the moon. There were no stars visible from the city, but everyone knew they were up there.

“Did you notice I don’t talk about my parents?” she asked softly.

He did. “Yeah.”

Her tone seemed apologetic. “Is it selfish to expect some kind of affection from those who birthed you? Or even only a simple co-habitation relationship? Anything other than nothing?”

Well, shit. “I don’t think so.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment.

“I almost wished they had given me away. Or hated me. Something. Anything.”

Jungkook didn’t know what to say.

Firstly, because he was not good at comforting anyone. Not even himself. He was simply sulky until he kinda got over it. Granted, much of it was first-world problems. He could always go running to his parents for advice or solutions if he couldn’t think of any. Or his friends. But deeply personal stuff he kept to himself. It felt almost a burden to say something, so on some level he could understand the importance of what she was saying. Why it was significant that she felt the need to tell him. He could feel it and he was grateful she was willing to express it to him.

“I don’t want you to experience a fraction of what I did. I don’t even know how deeply those moments are embedded in me,” she sighed, loosening her grip on him. “I see those moments reflected in my instincts. The scars of my past stick to the soles of my shoes no matter where I step. I don’t know how much of it is my true feelings or something that is simply fundamentally wrong with me.”

He remembered something.

“But you said you want to learn love,” he said quietly.

They stayed beside each other, warmth whirling with warmth even when surrounded by cold, crisp air.

“I did say that, yeah.”

Then all those littler things. The things she said and the way she said them. The offer.

“I don’t really understand love either,” Jungkook admitted.

She chuckled. “Yeah, I got that from your chaotic reentry back into my life.”

Their arms were still entangled. Although she was the one holding onto him, Jungkook was the one who brought his arm closer to his body, pinning her forearm to him. She accepted it, not moving away. His body sung at the contact but his thoughts trembled.

He whispered to the moon and the darkness above them.

“I’m scared that one day you won’t want me to be in your life anymore. Again.”

He couldn’t look at her. He was not about to bawl in public, for fuck’s sake.

“Don’t let this end.”

I have always been in love with you.

No person could fill that void. He tried, countless times. Jungkook knew it was impossible, stupid, pathetic, crazy, all the conclusions. But it was not crazy to know that he would never be the same. Even so, he could have lived a satisfactory life. A fun one, even. It was not fair to chase those that didn’t want to be found, so he hadn’t. If it was all for the best, then it was for the best.

But she came back to him.

His peppermint gum love.

“I’ll be stuck to you, you know.”

He turned his head and found her looking back at him. His pit-a-pat heartbeat, following the pop of each bubble, sharp and exciting, and he savored it. The seconds, the moments, the memories, all swirling into one. Everything. Everything, bright and intense and reminding him how it was like to live life.

Jungkook grinned.

“Okay.”

She smiled and raised herself.

And kissed him.

It was as if his fractured, desaturated world fell into place all at once and color burst forth.

Her soft scent pressed up against him, persistent, clinging, and he drowned in it, leaning into her lips, the softness and honesty together. Her fingers wrapped around his forearm to steady herself, their bodies now closer together, one of her legs between his. She had stepped forward to turn and make the distance. He held her, his left arm around her waist, and he wondered how it got there. A reflexive reaction, apparently.

She broke apart, her lingering exhale warming his lips.

He frowned slightly, opening his eyes.

“Heh. That’s it for now. We shouldn’t be so forward in public, after all,” she pointed out with a smirk.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. Put on his best, most convincing pout. “Who cares?”

She was laughing, shaking her head at him. “I do. You want to start this off with an arrest for public indecency? That’s a bang for sure.” She pulled on his arm, indicating them towards the sidewalk again.

“Hmph, fine, but one more kiss.”

And he yanked her back, pressing his lips to hers again, and if this was impossible, stupid, pathetic, crazy, if he really was a fool, then he was one forever, smiling into her smile, her hands coming up to cup his cheeks, his arms around her waist, the unfaded memories and the engraved present finally meeting.

This is love.

He didn’t understand it, but he didn’t have to understand for his body to know it was real.

She leaned forward, past his nose and to his ear.

“You like kisses, huh?”

It was then that Jungkook realized his body did, in fact, know something.

“Um… This has never happened before,” he mumbled, his cheeks burning.

She held tightly onto the collar of his jacket, her hair against his chin. Half of it was pulled back with a black claw clip. It gave an elegant yet casual look while also keeping him from hiding his blushing face from bystanders.

Just his luck.

“Maybe you didn’t remember, but you also would get instantly hard whenever I kissed you back then too,” she teased, her warm breath grazing his ear. She was making it worse. Shit. Jungkook tried to bite the inside of his cheek. Her thigh was pressed between his legs so there wasn’t much hiding of anything.

“Noona, please shut up.”

“Although maybe not with such innocent kisses.”

“Noona, please…”

You danced your fingers up his chest.

Each point of contact going from fingertip to fingernail. Bated breath. Strangeness and familiarity all at once, sitting on your bed with only the orb-shaped lamp on, cool blue artificial moonlight looking down upon the magic unfolding in this room. His hand raised and closed in around yours.

You looked up as warmth encircled your touch.

Jungkook smiled nervously.

“Does it feel weird?” you asked him.

“A… A little bit,” he whispered. There was no reason to. Pointless, really, because you could hear the neighbor downstairs having some sort of wild party. Your apartment was silent. “Mostly because I used to think about it a lot.”

You raised your eyebrows. “You think you’ll stop thinking about sex after I give it to you? Maybe I shouldn’t, then.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

He puffed his cheeks in exasperation. He grabbed your hand tighter, whining your name without the honorific, and you were suddenly transported to the past. Breathless nights, falling into a melody of bodies, and you pressed your knuckles against his chest, making Jungkook yelp and nearly fall over, catching himself with his hands before freezing up as you hovered over him, crossing your arm over his front and planting your palm on the bed under his armpit. He was raised to his elbows, looking up at you with those wide, dark brown eyes. Pink lips parted, the two silver rings gleaming at the right edge of his lower lip and that familiar mole underneath punctuating every surprise and every smile.

What was that phrase?

Live fast.

It had always been like that, though.

Die young.

Would you ever really age if you were always in the perpetual state of learning to love Jeon Jungkook?

You lowered your head and kissed him.

You were well aware that this was probably too much all at once and yet there was also so much time lost from the journey apart. Maybe necessary. But bad decisions could have good consequences. A kiss for the mole under his lips first, for old time’s sake. Then his waiting mouth. You tilted your head and kissed him deeper this time, shivering at his familiar clean scent. Your other hand rose and ghosted his jaw, sliding your tongue into his mouth as he moaned. Fingers sliding into his soft hair, slowly thrusting your tongue in and out before he caught it with his teeth and gently sucked on it, running one hand over your waist, pressing his fingers into your side.

You backed off a little and flicked your tongue along his lower lip, exhaling into his mouth.

“Remember you used to be a freak?”

His jacket was hanging on your desk chair but he was still in his beige knit vest top.

His brows furrowed.

“I’m not a freak,” he insisted.

You curled your grip into his scalp and tugged. His head tipped back and his eyes slipped closed, shuddering, a mute whine in his throat, his own hold on your waist tightening, blocked by layers of your skirt and tucked-in shirt. You pulled harder and his lashes fluttered, his chin lifting and exposing his throat to your lips. Light kisses, barely there. You were pretty sure the words coming out of his mouth were a lie because his body was telling you the complete opposite.

He hadn’t changed that much in that respect.

Heh.

You ran the tip of your tongue from between his collarbones, up his trembling neck, stopping at his chin to push his head back down and claim his gasping mouth with a fierce kiss.

There was no hesitation now.

You had been worried that somehow maybe your bodies wouldn’t click. Maybe you wouldn’t feel the same level of exhilaration or enjoyment. And it wasn’t the same. Not at all. No, as you leaned in more, trying to force him to yield, and he refused, pulling your hand down from his hair and sliding it under the hem of his top, making you touch him instead, trapping you in the lip-lock, no, this was refined hunger meeting a refined flavor, and you dug your nails into his flexed abs, causing him to break the kiss and throw his head back, moaning to your ceiling.

You lifted your chin as he pushed your hand up higher.

Looked down at him as you sunk your nails into his flesh and dragged down, watching his expression flicker between pain and pleasure, his eyes turning glassy with lust, looking right back at you. Unashamed.

He tugged your hand back up again, between his tense pecs.

Your breathing shallowed.

You scratched him again, so hard that it left irritated pink lines onto his skin.

Jungkook whimpered, his black hair messy and fallen over his forehead.

I wanted everything about you.

You pulled back and seized the bottom of his top, dragging it up and over his head with his help, falling into his arms as he sat up, smacking your palms into his broad back. Taking that part of him too, irritated red lines all over, and kisses over his jaw, his naked chest against your clothed chest, his own hands clutching fistfuls of your velvet shirt, chasing after your lips.

I still do.

Your skirt had a silver zipper straight down the front center. You felt him grip the pull and check if it was working one. Smiled as he gasped, realizing it was. It even detached at the hem so all you had to do was shrug out of the suspenders. It fell to the floor with the heavy clink of metal from the clasps.

You swung a leg over him and straddled his lap.

Him shirtless, his torso covered in your violent marks.

Your hips colliding into the front of his jeans.

He groaned in your face.

“F-Fuuuuck…”

You gripped his studded belt with one hand and grinded against him. The first few buttons of your shirt were open and the slick backside of the velvet fabric caused the collar to slide off one of your shoulders, exposing your collarbone. His hands cupped your ass, sinking into the curve, and you ducked down to kiss him again, again, grabbing onto his bare shoulder for support.

His breathing hitched as your hand came close to his neck.

The impulse.

Hot and hard.

You positioned your hand around his neck and squeezed the arteries, choking him.

The sensation of power, the taste of his whine, his larger frame trembling under you, and Jungkook pressed your clothed heat into his trapped erection and succumbed to the ravenous nature of your kiss. It was the same and it was different. Layers of passion on passion. Intense and sending shivers from you to him. Back then, he was driven by inexperience. There was arousal in his fumbling and frustration, but none now when he reached for the buttons, flicking then apart with ease even as you choked him and gripped his belt. Your body faintly exposed under the folds of the lush fabric, but you didn’t drop it, instead catching his lower lip with your teeth and sucking on it tightly.

Letting him go with a pop.

His eyes rolled back, that underlip mole quivering in anticipation.

Pause.

You pulled him towards you by his neck as his vision reoriented. Hazy and lust-drunk, but unequivocally trained on you, his grip digging into your thighs. Seconds filled with rattling breaths, pushing him to the edge, and the impulse rose again. Something you used to tell him. You hadn’t really meant it back then. It was a display of fantasy then. For show. For the mood.

But things were different now.

“You will always be mine,” you growled millimeters from Jungkook’s thin breath.

His half-lidded eyes shimmered. He couldn’t respond, too lost in the headiness of lost air. But his body knew. The body has its own language and his agreed.

The corners of his open mouth lifted.

You let go of his neck and grasped handfuls of his hair, yanking his head back, his wanton moan pitching and falling, almost going limp in your hold as oxygen flooded back into his brain. You licked up his hot throat, closing your eyes, savoring the vibration of his cries and the desperate way he pinned your lower body to his, begging for release but too incoherent from the burst of overwhelming sensations to make them audible.

“And I will try to be everything you need until I run out of time,” you murmured to his raging pulse under your lips.

Maybe you would always struggle to define the word love.

Maybe you would never know.

But you didn’t need to know to listen to what your body wanted.

I don’t need to know love to be sure of loving you.

Your velvet shirt fell to the floor. You slid down between his legs. Worked together to undo his belt, glancing up at him and seeing your red marks on his chest. The rise and fall of his pants. Higher. Seeing him watching you as you pushed down his jeans. Closing in. Tracing the edge of your teeth with your tongue as you palmed him over his boxer briefs, cocking an eyebrow at his soft cry that he turned into a hiss under your direct attention.

“Embarrassed?” you taunted.

Jungkook bit the side of his lip. “No.”

You hooked your pinky finger over the waistband of those Calvin Klein’s.

“You sure?”

Desperation crawling into his gaze as your thumb rubbed against the hard shaft. Several seconds of stroking and you stretched out the waistband, rubbing a slow circle, molding the fabric to the swollen head of his cock, smiling as his cut v-line underneath was revealed.

“P-Please…” he gasped above you.

Took your time to make eye contact again. You cocked your head to his crotch.

“Go on. Take it off then.”

His erection popped out. Dark red, rock-hard, begging for your mouth.

Unfortunately, Jungkook knew how you operated.

Flashes of the past and present. Heavy nights. Early mornings. Cold rooms with warm bodies. Your hands on his knees, spreading them apart and leaning in. Lips working the inside of his thighs. Kisses. Bites. Sucking. Rushing as much as moving slowly, breathing hotly onto his cock and watching it twitch at the heat. A flicker of your gaze and the needy anticipation written all over his face. The same wide-eyed stare from back then and, now, accented by piercings and tattoos running up his right arms, his muscles tense and rippling from trying to stay still under your unspoken control.

Your lips closed in around his girth and you shoved him down to the depths of your throat.

“A-Ah, fuuuuuuuck…”

It was a familiar stretch of your muscles. He was at his hardest, giving you the freedom to glide up and down with little resistance, positioning your head at the correct angle to receive him as deep as possible. You pressed your lips inward as you rose to the tip, curving your tongue around. Up and over. Coating him with saliva and stimulating that thin skin, increasing the sensitivity with the attracting nature of water to water made more powerful by the rubbing of your tongue, sinking your nails into the insides of his thighs. Piling on sensation after sensation. Crisp with pain. Intense from pleasure. Tighter, licking all over, sliding him against the ridges of the roof of your mouth.

Jungkook panted your name, the syllables slipping into moans, losing himself to the wet bliss.

You almost didn’t catch the fleeting words his gasp.

“Yeah… it’s… s-supposed to feel l-like this…”

His hips tensed under you but you kept him down with the base of your palms, leaving him at the mercy of your pace. The familiar tingling at the back of your head, keeping the angle perfect and the depth steady, and he was right, yes, this was how it was supposed to feel – the blinding rush of adrenaline, desire, and connection all swirling into one indiscernible emotion. The kind of heat that was beyond raw passion, closer, the kind of satisfaction that was pleasure on many different levels, so close, the kind of sex that people could only dream about.

There.

A torn moan and Jungkook’s hips bucked into your face, sliding down your throat and spilling his thick, salty orgasm into the tight pocket. You locked your shoulders and stopped moving, feeling his cock shudder and throb. His cum oozing upward, and you swallowed, chest tight. He cried out above you but you held him down and swallowed again, inhaling much needed air, his strong taste coating your tongue, tactile and delicious.

Truly.

Delicious.

You had almost forgotten how attracted you had been to his pheromones, but clearly your drenched panties hadn’t. You could even smell yourself from here. Also, your knees were killing you. Guess those years had an affect on your body after all, even if your brain had been subconsciously stuck on Jeon Jungkook.

The body always remembers.

To think you had said that just to be a smartass but Jungkook had unintentionally taken it seriously and it had turned out to be true all along.

A happy little accident.

You crawled up his body and he greeted you with kiss after fervent kiss. Somehow, he didn’t seem to mind that you had only just swallowed his cum. Then again, Jungkook would never beat the freak allegations. You were the only one making those allegations but, hey, you did know him best, even if neither you nor him knew that.

He unhooked your bra.

You slipped out of it, letting the black lace cups flop into the pile of his jeans, belt, and underwear on the floor. You were straddling his lap, knees on the bed, and he pulled you in deeper, giving you a moment to adjust. Stared into your eyes fiercely, the captured universes in those dark brown orbs glimmering with determination.

“Don’t look away,” he ordered. Not very sternly, but you smiled all the same, your arm around his shoulders, bare breasts and hard nipples right under his chin. Jungkook couldn’t intimidate you for shit. It was the big peepers, probably.

“Sure.”

He narrowed his eyes.

A stare down. Seconds saturated with anticipation. He raised his right hand, the two center fingers grouped together and the rest splayed out. Your smirk widened. Closer to you. Before he could say the words, open your mouth, your lips parted and you leaned in, swirling your tongue around his fingers, shifting your line of sight to admire the tattoos down his arm.

Jungkook sucked in a breath, stifling his awed moan.

Your eyes flickered back up to his face and you sucked on his fingers, directly looking at him. Even tilting your head and curving his fingertips down your throat, manipulating his movement with your tongue and your inner muscles. He shuddered, speechless at the arousing nature of this obscenity. You held yourself steady by splaying your fingers over his shoulder blades, letting him slowly thrust in and out of your mouth, the glossiness of your spit catching the low light.

“F-Fuck…” Jungkook breathed. “You’re so sexy.”

You let your self-satisfied agreement show in the lowering of your lashes.

He grinned, noticing it right away, his expression pleased and frustrated all at once. Enjoyed the show for a few more moments and then pulled out. You held on until the very last second, releasing him with a wet, lewd pop. Loud in the silence of labored breathing and intense eye contact. His other hand at your waist nudged your ass. You lifted yourself up. His right hand slid between your legs, his two wet fingers grazing the edge of your dampened panties.

“You smell so damn good,” he murmured, looking down to bear witness. “I want it smeared all over me.”

“I told you you’re a freak.”

“Yeah, I am.”

You would have rolled your eyes at his now confession if it wasn’t for him hooking the edge of your panties and bunching them to the side while at the same time closing the distance between your chest and mouth, and suddenly you were clutching his head with both hands, gasping, tangling your fingers in his hair as he sucked on your nipple and sunk his two fingers into your wet pussy.

Jungkook wouldn’t give it to you if he thought you couldn’t take it.

Your back arched reflexively, thrusting your chest into his face, and your hips rolled, thrusting his two wetted fingers into you. He got the hint, following your body rhythm, deep and rough, making the visceral pleasure spiral in your tightened core. Of course, you had sex after Jungkook. Shitty sex, subpar sex, better than average sex, mind-numbing sex. But it had always come at the price of your own expertise. It was never about how well they matched you, because they never did. They never had the time to. But not Jungkook.

His body remembered.

Your breathing deepened and he increased the pace, the fervor, switching sides of your chest and catching your hard nipple between his teeth. Pressing his tongue tip into it, rubbing forcefully and then sucking. Lips and then tongue, back and forth, thrusting up into you, and you gave in, locking your hips to take the wanted abuse, letting the rising orgasm take command. Blood roaring in your veins, heartbeat at your throat, hard, fast, intense, your tense thighs trembling, tipping your head back.

Closing your eyes.

Moaning his name.

You pulled on his hair, hard.

Jungkook whined under you but he didn’t let go. Mouth too busy to speak. The declaration tumbled out of your open mouth.

“Close… fuck, I’m gonna cum…”

The constricted strain in your chest burst, and you threw you head back and sighed, low and wanton, prickling nerves racing up and across your back. Your inner walls pulsating. The heavy, sweet scent of your climax hit you first, soaking Jungkook’s hand, sticking to the insides of your thighs, and then uncontrollable shivers overtook your hips, gasping as his mouth left your chest, the abrupt loss of heat leaving your nipple cold. He moaned with you, his fingers buried into your spasming pussy, enjoying every second of feeling your orgasm, his thumb closing in to press down on your throbbing, slick clit.

You sucked in a sharp inhale.

He held it there, only adding pressure to the hyper sensitive nerves, letting your ride out your orgasm with your hands still gripping his head. You could feel the afterglow flutter in your lungs. Slow and deep shaking breaths.

Damn.

“You’re still the best at fingering me,” you gasped.

You lowered your head and he chuckled faintly. Mischief sparkling in his dark brown eyes under messy black strands. “Good.” Sounded and looked very proud of himself.

Fuck, you waned to kiss him so bad.

So you did.

Again and again.

With Jungkook, it was easy. With Jungkook, there was never a question. You had just questioned it because you had thought it was the right thing to do. He had questioned it because he had been afraid. You hadn’t understood it and neither had he. Nobody did. But that didn’t matter, because as naturally as the wind blew, so did you and Jungkook tumble to the bed, him licking off your juices on his fingers and groaning, savoring your flavor. Hands all over each other, recalling all his erogenous zones and listening to his sounds again, your heartbeat racing at the pitch in his deep tone, the desperation in the call of your name.

You felt him cup your pussy and smear your juices all over his palm.

Glanced down and saw him grip his half-hard cock with his now-wet hand, moaning into your ear, heating your skin with his need.

You tilted your head more.

His lips found the pocket right under your earlobe.

You sat down on his raised thigh and rubbed yourself against his flexed muscle as he jacked himself off, sparks flying throughout your body, from his mouth attached to your skin and the hardness between your legs, watching him pleasure himself below you. The wet and slick quality of your previous orgasm increased the friction, and you tilted your hips forward a little more, angling the pressure to your clit, fuck, grasping the pillow under Jungkook’s head so tight that you felt your knuckles strain. Intense made more intense by his teeth. His tongue. His lips. Dancing around your ear, catching the curve, biting down, his lustful groan muffled in his throat.

Closer.

You knew.

He knew.

Jungkook snapped back and ground his teeth, whining in his chest, gripping his cock covered in your cum and his pre-cum beading at the purple-red tip. You also froze, clenching your jaw as the climb to release was cut off, sending your body into an intense array of emotions. Want. Greed. Voraciousness. The edging radiated throughout your veins, primal need pleading you to keep going, but every second wasted was another layer, threatening to amplify the next orgasm.

Which was exactly what you and Jungkook wanted.

He didn’t have to ask you what your favorite position was. He liked them all, of course, for different reasons. Doggy for the view. One leg against his chest for something to hold onto while having some room to move. Regular missionary to hold your face and kiss you in between thrusts.

But.

The condoms were on your bedside table. It took him no time at all to rip one open and roll in down, groaning at the sight of you lifting your legs up to your chest, spreading your wet pussy and tight ass for him to see. His voice was low and hoarse from exertion, but he didn’t seem to notice or mind, scooting himself forward to pin your thighs down with his chest, positioning himself right in front of your entrance.

“I fucking love that view,” he heatedly breathed out.

You grinned. “I know.”

Slowly.

Jungkook folded you in half, trapping your body between his chest and mattress and sank into you, locking eyes at the same time.

His favorite position was one and the same with yours.

“Ugh, you feel so fucking good,” he swore, stopping when he was buried balls deep, his cock twitching inside you. You appreciated it.

“Take it slow,” you hummed, nonchalantly.

Well.

A muscle in his cheek twitched. His long bangs were all over his face but you couldn’t miss his death stare. Jungkook mouthed, fuck you, and you mouthed back, you are, before lifting himself to grip your calves, pushing your thighs down onto your ribs. He slowly and deliberately thrust into you. Taunting you to balk under his stare, but you did not, rising to the occasion. Literally. Your ass raised off the mattress as he snapped his hips in and he groaned deeply, clenching his jaw as your pussy squeezed him all over.

He didn’t look away, but he was warning you.

He slid out again. Then back in.

You did it again.

He growled and slammed his hard length back into you, dropping down. His palms smacked down onto the mattress and he bent over even more to hit that wicked depth, resulting in instant ecstasy radiating through your weighted lungs. You matched his ferocity. Your arms over your head and pushing back against the headboard, and he pounded you. Hard and intense and each collision knocking the wind out of your lungs, this is it, losing yourself to him, him losing himself to you, letting the carnal instinct take over. The rhythmic slap of hips to hips, wetness, drenched in your sex and his sweat. Every so often in the madness, you caught a glimpse of his gaze, fucked-out and craving more, and you saw your reflection in his eyes.

Mirroring him.

Your breath stilled in your throat.

The compounding sensations built and your body didn’t stop reacting. Time slowed down and seemed fast all at once, this is love, something your tried so hard to understand but screw it, fuck understanding and fuck believing in it, reaching up and curling your hand around Jungkook head, forcing him down lower, his heavy breath washing over you, his eyes closing as you gripped his hair and tugged, breathlessly moaning with him at the sight of his visceral pleasure, the sound, the pace, the taste of his kiss still lingering on your lips.

For as long as he loved you, your heart would love him back, no matter what your thoughts said.

“Not yet,” you gasped. “I’m close.”

“Fuck me, I’m gonna burst,” he whined, digging his palms in, slamming his hips into you and you saw Jungkook bite the side of his lower lip, suddenly silent, focusing hard, his sweaty black hair sticking to his forehead. He always went quiet when he didn’t want to cum too fast.

You wanted to torture him a little but the edging had brought you too close.

“Ah, Jungkook!”

Your head snapped back into the pillows and his fell back, the wanton sound of your joined moans loud and shameless, echoing throughout your bedroom as you came hard, tensing your entire body and feeling your pussy clamp down onto his jerking cock pumping the condom full of cum. The lack of sufficient air, the whirlwind of release, the closeness and a drop his sweat on your tongue, and you shuddered, clinging onto him as wave after wave crashed into you, each throb pulsing between your legs reaching him as well, burning you both in each sharp pang of erotic euphoria.

You heard him exhale your name, erratic and rough.

Thudding heartbeat revibrating against the base of your neck.

“Get…”

You felt his heat retreat, lowering your legs carefully.

“Get on your knees,” Jungkook panted.

You almost pointed out that this was your bed and not a hotel, these cum-covered sheets are going to have to be slept on because I’m not doing laundry in the dead of night, but either your body moved faster than your brain or you didn’t give a flying fuck. Or both. You turned and springboarded off your folded right arm, still on the searing high of adrenaline and the furious pulse between your legs. You heard him rip open another condom and gasp again at seeing your cheek pressed to the pillows, your chest against the bed, arching your back to raise your ass and spread open your holes for him to see.

“You’re so fucking hot, fuck.”

You flexed your pussy. It made an audible, wet sound, startling you slightly. It didn’t deter Jungkook the least. In fact, he grabbed your ass and dragged you down to him, groaning as he thrust into you again, immediately starting up from where he left off. You shoved your hands into the mattress and flicked your head, tossing back your hair and finally getting some air, breathless at his girth and strength.

Not that any of that stopped you from smacking your ass back into him.

“Fuck!”

It was becoming a favorite word.

Probably your fault.

Well, fuck.

You steeled your core and dropped your shoulders, spreading your knees a little more. By the depth of his groan and the increased ferocity of his thrusts, you knew you had reached that perfect angle, sighing out in satisfaction as you felt the repeated pressure hitting you just right, right there, fuck, yes, Jungkook, closing your eyes to burn in the desire, higher and higher, deep and hard and chasing the same height at the same fierce pace, feeling your heartbeat slam strongly in your chest.

The swell.

The echo.

The unison.

The way the sparks raced up and down your spine. Breaths drifting out, rapid and shallow, noticing his strained grunts and muted moans once again, smiling, then focusing, squeezing him tighter, your shivering walls massaging his cock. Admired how perfectly he fit inside you, almost to the brink of discomfort, seamless, your pussy pulling him in hungrily with each snap of his hips. His fingers dug into your ass and you savored that too, all of it, not taking a single second for granted, letting yourself become overstimulated in the multiple sensations.

Jungkook’s gravelly voice choked out your name.

The frantic edge indicating he was almost done for.

Before you could respond, your head jerked back and your eyes rolled up, the high nearly alarming, depraved moan falling from your lips as the power of the orgasm seized your lungs, knocking the wind out of you. It was almost too much. You would have collapsed if it wasn’t for Jungkook’s firm hold on you, gasping as he came. His hips twitched against your ass, pressed as deep into you as possible.

You moaned as his fingernails suddenly clawed down your lower back, heightening the peak of pleasure.

So good you couldn’t speak.

There were no words.

You could barely comprehend it anyway. There was no describing how different this sex was from all the others. You had known it once, but it even better now, afterglow radiating off of you, each nerve brimming with ecstasy, letting out a gratified exhale as his body leaned against your back, his hands sliding up your stomach and to your chest, squeezing your breasts and lightly toying with your nipples.

His lips pressed to your upper back, feathering you with a meteor shower of kisses.

Your torso shook, trying to come down but suspended. You didn’t resist him, clutching the rumpled sheets, sighing softly at the thrumming beat of heart-to-heart, his cock still inside you. Getting soft and probably against his will. He groaned, sounding annoyed.

“You know there’s always tomorrow, right?” you chuckled, inhaling and catching a whiff of his cologne on your bed.

The imprint of him already.

“I think it’s already tomorrow,” Jungkook grumbled, grunting as he held down the base of the condom and pulled out.

Well, he had always been here, at the back of your mind, never forgotten.

“I’ve got more in me,” he vented sternly, although you suspected that wasn’t really directed at you. You hadn’t faced him yet but if you turned around you were be quite sure that you would be greeted by the pleasant and entertaining sight of Jungkook glaring at his limp, overworked dick. And yet. You didn’t. Instead, you looked up. The window was within your line of sight.

The night sky up above, but the moon was right here, in the magic of this room.

“Jungkook.”

“Huh?”

Right?

“You’ll stay the night, won’t you?” you breathed to the sky, wishing the dream to life to the stars you couldn’t see.

Silence.

You turned your head, past the moon-shaped lamp across the room, past walls and everyday things, past the clothes scattered everywhere, and Jungkook was blinking at you, startled for a moment, big brown eyes wide, lips parted. Piercings. Tattoos.

Years on years.

“Anything for you,” he breathed back, staring straight into your eyes.

Still the same.

“Really. I will always stay by your side.”

He climbed back onto the bed. Over you. Skin to skin. Leaning down. Kiss after kiss, meaning more than raw passion, and you felt the wetness on your face. Drop after drop, fallen stars, and Jungkook brushed him away from his thumbs and his smile, you couldn’t get rid of me even if you wanted to, noona, I’m stuck on you, forever after, and you didn’t want to cry, no more, your arms around his torso, pulling him closer, gripping his shoulders, shuddering at the foreignness of expressing emotion.

“Are we…?”

Your voice was so small but he was so close, so close, his hands in your hair, forehead to forehead.

“Are we falling in love?” you whispered, staring into his eyes and finding the stars.

And now you could see that he, too, finally found the stars he had been looking for all this time.

Jungkook smiled.

“Yes.”

Crisp and intense, this peppermint gum love where every day was the rush of falling in love more and more, forever after making memories so this feeling could never fade away.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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