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gukyi · 6 months ago
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love me or we both go down | kth
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summary: after going through with an arranged marriage to please his parents and secure his inheritance of the family business, kim taehyung thinks he’s got it all figured out. he doesn’t. apparently just being married to you isn’t enough, not when everybody and their mother can pick up on the fact that the two of you absolutely loathe each other. but taehyung wants his inheritance one way or another, so he decides that desperate times call for desperate measures: the two of you need to fall in love, and you need to fall in love fast.
{enemies to lovers!au, arranged marriage!au, rich kids!au}
pairing: kim taehyung x female reader genre: fluff, angst, smut (i know, crazy right?) word count: 32k warnings: oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, multiple unprotected sex scenes (they’re married y’all), fat cock tae, tae has a wife kink, lots of praise, alcohol consumption (but they’re safe), minor character death (not explicit), mentions of heart attack, slow burn like there is no tomorrow a/n: hello and welcome to the fic everyone, literally everyone, has been waiting for! i am so, so, so excited to share this with you all, especially because none other than rose @kinktae​ helped me write the smut, and i am literally forever indebted to her. you all better go spam rose with all the love and support you can because this fic would not be here without her and i love her so much. 
also, to all my readers who aren’t comfortable reading smut, please know that the smut in this fic is not imperative to the storyline, and you skipping past it will not affect your reading experience., enjoy!
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Never in your life have wedding bells felt so ominous.
The sound of them is akin to the sound of strings, of a single piano note in a horror movie, right when the film opens and someone random is about to die on screen for the sake of proving to the audience that this is, in fact, a horror movie. Make no mistake about it; these wedding bells spell doom for you, too. And the most horrific part about them is that just like that poor, helpless soul in the movie, there is no way for you to escape your fate either. 
With only seconds left to go before you have no choice but to promise yourself to the man waiting at the other end of the aisle, you desperately try to think of any last-ditch efforts to get out of this. Many, if not all of them, are utterly useless. 
Feigning sudden illness won’t work, because then your parents will just reschedule the wedding to a later date. Running away is fruitless. Where will you go? The parking lot?
If only you had a lover out there in the audience somewhere that could object to the marriage when the officiant says, “Speak now, or forever hold your peace.” A knight in shining armor that could whisk you out of the venue and off to a new life, far away from here. Too bad all of the people you’ve dated before hate you now. 
Maybe getting married isn’t such a bad thing after all. Instead of having relationships with multiple people who will eventually despise your existence, you only have to have a relationship with one. And the feeling, as has always been, is mutual. 
You bristle as your assistants do some last-minute prepping, fixing your sleeve and adjusting your necklace and making sure you don’t trip on your enormous train. They flutter around you like a swarm of well-meaning but ignorant butterflies complicit in the agenda of your family. None of them have said a word to you about the wedding ever since you arrived at the venue, choosing to talk more about things like the weather. Not that you were ever under the impression they had been hired to entertain you. Maybe they were told to not engage you, just in case you try to conspire with them.
As if they could be of any use in your wildly unrealistic escape plans. 
The truth is that, unless you were to drop dead on this marble flooring right now, you’re getting married. Whether you like it or not.
The doors open. 
You’ve attended red carpets, galas, award shows, and balls. You’ve had hundreds of cameras flashing in your face, the bright light capturing each and every centimeter of you. You’ve had paparazzi waiting outside the restaurants you eat at, the stores you shop at, desperate to catch a picture of you in sweatpants without a drop of makeup on. You’ve been on dates with ex-lovers that looked at you like you were a piece of meat with a credit card. And yet, for some goddamn reason, walking down the aisle in a white dress the size of Pluto, with the rest of your life waiting for you at the other end, makes you feel fucking transparent. 
Face resolute, you clutch onto your bouquet so tightly the flowers feel like they’re about to pop right out of your grasp. Determined not to look at anybody in the audience, you stare straight ahead, right into the eyes of your future husband.
Kim Taehyung, for someone you have seen multiple times drunk off his ass with hickies dotting his neck and jawline, cleans up pretty well. For someone getting married, at least. He dons a simple black tuxedo that still probably costs more than the average car, his caramel brown hair is pushed back off his forehead, and his expression is firm and still. He most certainly has had an equally expensive team prepping him, but they haven’t done too bad a job. The silver lining is that he doesn’t look any more thrilled than you are to be doing this, right here, right now. But to his credit, this is definitely the best he’s ever looked, as far as you’re concerned. 
When you reach him, he offers his hand out to you, a hand that you only accept for the sake of professionalism. The bouquet in your hands is handed off to one of your bridesmaids, and the two of you take your position at the front. Your train drags along the aisle, draping over the few stairs you had to climb to reach the altar, this satin trail behind you that cements you to the floor. It may as well be a ball-and-chain. It’s about as heavy as one, anyway. 
This is the longest you and Taehyung have ever held eye contact. Not that you’re really keeping track of how long the two of you have met each other’s gazes, but if you had to make an educated guess, this would definitely be the victor. Most of the time you end up sneering at each other ten seconds in, but to be fair, those other times you were also not getting married. To one another. In a ceremony attended by hundreds of people. And cameras.
There can be no sneering here. 
“Don’t you look nice?” Taehyung whispers, loud enough so only the two of you can hear. He has that drawling, sickly sweet tone to his voice, the one that you hate because it makes him sound like he thinks he’s so much better than everyone else. “Surprised they were able to makeup that scowl off your face.”
This, of course, brings on a hearty scowl only he can see, your backs both facing the rows of attendees. “How much concealer are you wearing to cover up all of the hickies on your neck?” You quip back easily. It’s not like the two of you are going to pretend he doesn’t waltz around at every club or bar or private venue he can find, looking for his next treat. 
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Taehyung grins, and if you weren’t standing in front of hundreds of people about to get married, there’s no telling what next you would do.
The two of you would probably go on like that for another ten minutes if it’s not for the officiant, who coughs once he’s ready and opens the book in his hands. Next to you, Taehyung straightens, hands clasped together at his front, and lips pressed into a neat line. You do the same. There will be no giggles, no laughter nor smiles, nor any genuine emotion at this wedding. This is a wedding for the sake of politics, for economics, for security, and anyone in attendance would be a fool to think otherwise. Especially you. 
“Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends, loved ones, and esteemed guests,” the officiant bellows, listing off as many groups of people as he possibly can in an effort to both include and compliment every person in the audience, “We are gathered here to celebrate the wedding, and future life, of Taehyung and Y/N…”
Taehyung turns to you, grinning in that god-awful way, the way he does when he feels like he’s got something over you. And sure, you can’t think of any punishment quite as bad as this, but what’s Taehyung got to smile about? He’s marrying himself off to a woman he hates, kissing goodbye his days as a free-spirited, heartbreaking bachelor, and promising what may very well be the rest of his life to loving you. That is not cause for celebration. 
But perhaps, to him, your suffering is enough to bring a smile to his face. 
Your vows are, to put it simply, total bullshit. Your family hired someone to write yours and there’s not a doubt in your mind that his family did the same thing. This nonsense talk, this complete and utter garbage that spews from your perfectly-glossed lips, shit about how you promise to love each other until the end of your days, how you promise to take care of each other when you’re sick and accompany each other at every event, every gala, every ball. Shit about how you promise to look only at each other, promise to uphold your family traditions and become a dependable spouse. 
The words don’t belong to you. But the thing is that this marriage was never yours anyway. 
When the kiss comes, there’s a part of you that thinks maybe you should have psyched yourself up a little more for this. When Taehyung pulls you in, placing a stiff hand on your lower back as he brings you towards his chest, your stomach turns and shivers run down your spine. The feeling of his hand on your body, the breath from his lips brushing against your own, are enough to keep you frozen in place. 
He smiles at you, almost as if to ask, “Are you ready?”
And you squeeze your eyes shut, almost as if to respond, “Let’s do this.”
When his lips meet yours, there is almost nothing. Nothing runs through you, nothing explodes, nothing strikes. But when he pulls away and cheers and applause rings out throughout the room, there is something. A little heat, a remnant of a flame, left on your lips. A little sting, just to remind you it happened. 
The entire hall is cheering but nothing about this is worth celebrating. The fact of the matter is that you and Taehyung will never love each other the way that you are supposed to. 
“Ugh, finally.”
The elevator doors haven’t even properly opened by the time Taehyung is loosening his tie, tugging it off over his head as he stretches his head back and runs a hand through his perfectly-styled hair. As he rakes his fingers through his caramel locks, the hairspray and gel loosens, strands falling down by the side of his face, framing his temple.
“Don’t sound so relieved,” you huff out, deciding now is as good a time as any to start getting undressed yourself. Reaching down to lift up the hem of your reception dress, you tug off your heels, already feeling lighter on your feet. Who cares if Taehyung is watching you pull off your stilettos like a defeated movie heroine? You don’t think you can walk another step in those shoes. “We still have to live together, you know.”
“Don’t remind me,” Taehyung says gruffly, brushing by you roughly as he stomps out of the elevator. “I’m just glad the fucking night is over. I swear, seeing that fake-ass smile on your face made me want to gouge my eyes out.”
You storm after him, refusing to be the helpless damsel in this situation. “Oh, like you didn’t also have that exact same fake-ass smile on your face. It almost made me think you were actually enjoying yourself tonight.”
“I was only enjoying the fact that I know you hate this just as much as I do.” It’s perhaps the only thing you will ever be able to empathize with him on. Mutually relishing in the other’s destruction. Taehyung fumbles with the keypad to the door to the penthouse for a moment before you hear the lock click, the door sliding open as the entrance lights flicker on. 
The reason Taehyung’s penthouse is so clean is because he’s never lived here before. Neither of you have—Taehyung’s parents bought it just for the two of you. And as much as you absolutely despise the idea of having to live with him, at least it was not you who paid for your place of residence. 
You can tell Taehyung’s never lived here before because it’s actually quite nicely decorated inside. The ceilings are high and the sleek velvet curtains are pulled open, revealing a shimmering skyline. The furniture is modern and functional, and the whole damn place smells brand new. You’ve had the unfortunate pleasure of entering the place Taehyung lived in before now, and it looked nothing like this. The furniture was worn and stained despite the live-in maid, the house reeked of five hundred different spices that wafted from the kitchen to the living room, and the bookshelves were covered with comics, graphic novels, and old textbooks. 
If it weren’t for the fact that you and Taehyung are rich kids in their twenties that hate each other, you might have actually thought the place looked… homey. 
You don’t have time to be impressed by the interior design and architecture skills of whoever designed this place. Right now, all you can think about is tugging yourself out of your airtight reception dress and passing out on the nearest bed. Which, hopefully, will be as far away as possible from Taehyung’s bed of choice. 
“How many bedrooms does this place have?” You ask, shimmying along the floor so you don’t trip over the hem of your dress. From the looks of it, you can see one giant hallway to your right and a massive, double-sided staircase leading up. 
“Enough,” Taehyung grumbles in response. The hazy stupor from all of the fancy champagne is starting to wear off for the both of you, leaving behind two grouchy, begrudgingly-married individuals who want absolutely nothing to do with each other and have no problems making that known. Whatever golden light of the evening that was making Taehyung at least a little bit more attractive than usual has faded, and now you see him for what he really is: an unceremoniously tired man in a suit. “You want upstairs or down?”
You gaze up at the marble staircase in front of you, then back down at your too-long dress. “Down.” The last thing you want is to trip in front of the man you have to see, every day, for the rest of your life. 
“Fine by me.” Taehyung’s halfway up the stairs by the time he turns back around to say something else. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess?”
“Yeah.” There’s no point in being hostile now. The both of you are too exhausted to mean anything by it. Besides, what else can you say? Everything to complain about has already been complained about. At least the two of you managed to wrestle out from your parents the stipulation that you would not be going on a honeymoon together. Now that would have been your worst nightmare. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
It’s as good of a goodnight either of you are going to get. Taehyung heads up the stairs and disappears around a corner, and you start wandering down the hallway. All the bedrooms look the exact same other than different colors on the walls and bedsheets, but they all look serviceable to you. Clean. Empty. Far away from wherever Taehyung is. 
You pick the one at the very end of the hall just to be as much of a diva as possible, and don’t even bother drawing the curtains before tugging off your dress. It’s past one in the morning, and you’re so high up you don’t think anyone will be able to see you anyway. By the time you’ve stripped naked and are tugging up the too-tight sheets tucked into the mattress, your legs are about to give out beneath you. The bed could be made of rocks for all you care. Anything to lie down on is fine by you. 
Sleep comes fairly easily to you tonight. Once your head hits the pillow you can already feel yourself drifting off, eyelids fluttering shut, but you don’t sleep quite yet. Not before you can think about how this is your life now, sleeping in a foreign bed in a foreign place with a foreign husband upstairs. This is what you will be living in now. Now and forever. 
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Living with Taehyung is, in both the best and worst ways possible, like living with a roommate that doesn’t give a shit about the fact that they live with another person. It’s good, because you and Taehyung hardly see each other and speak even less, which was pretty much the only thing you were asking for when it came to living with him. But it also sucks, because whenever you do happen to cross paths, Taehyung acts like you don’t exist, barely sparing you a hello or even that tight-lipped smile you send to drivers on the road when they let you cross the street. 
Not that the two of you ever engaged in energetic conversation before you got married. But at least the two of you would acknowledge each other, even if only to shoot a glare and a scowl the other’s way from opposite sides of a hotel ballroom. Maybe it’s just because it’s him, but you did always find yourself actually relishing in those little interactions with Taehyung. In this strange, twisted way, it seemed to provide some sort of continuity to your ever-changing life. Like no matter what happened, at least you would know that the two of you would always despise each other. 
To be frank, right now you’re not sure if Taehyung even remembers he got married at all.
Nights have been a lot more sleepless since your wedding day. After two weeks, the reality of it has finally started to settle in. This is your life now. And ever since you realized that, your bed has felt much less comfortable. 
“But the place is nice, right?”
You look around the living room from where you’re sat on the sleek, white suede leather couch, eyes glossing over the bookshelves, the floor-to-ceiling windows, the draping velvet curtains. From here, you can see the entire city skyline, flecks of gold from the windows of skyscrapers against a navy blue background. Slowly, as the moon creeps over the sky and the clock gets later and later, those lights will soon begin to flicker off, one by one. 
“Yeah, it’s not bad.” Nothing to write home about. That is, if home were a place other than here. 
“That’s good. At least you don’t live in, like, a total dump or anything,” Victoria says on the other end of the line. “How’s Taehyung?”
His name alone elicits this deeply-exhausted sigh from your lips, like it’s been ten years since you married and every day has felt worse than the last. “Fine.” You can’t really complain about anything yet, considering that you hardly ever see the man. 
“Just ‘fine’?” Victoria sounds skeptical. 
“Yeah,” you draw out the word, as if trying to convince yourself of its truth. “I mean, it’s like he doesn’t even live here. I barely see him. And when I do, we don’t even speak to each other.”
“That’s good though, isn’t it? You hate him.” Victoria says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. And in a sense, it kind of is. 
“I mean…”
“I know that your life hasn’t exactly… gone the way you had planned, but isn’t this your best case scenario when considering everything?” She asks. “If Taehyung is as distant as you say he is, isn’t it almost like you never married him in the first place?”
As if on cue, you hear footsteps coming down the stairs, heels clicking on the marble as they make their way to the entrance. You whip your head around to find Taehyung, all dressed up in loose, flowy slacks and a flowery silk button-down, strolling down the staircase as he scrolls through his phone, paying you zero attention whatsoever. 
He notices you briefly when he reaches the bottom, meeting your eyes with his own. He offers this measly, unenthused half-smile your way before he grabs his wallet and some house keys from the table by the entrance, opens the door, and vanishes off into the night. 
If you hadn’t been in the living room, you probably wouldn’t have even realized he left. Not that you being present as he’s planning on leaving would have stopped him anyway. This is the sixth night he’s done this in the past two weeks. You could stand by the door and stare him down as he emerges from his bedroom, all dressed up for something you’re definitely not invited to, and he would offer you that same goddamn smile and walk out the door without even blinking. Who he was before you got married and who he is now are no different. Not even a ring could change that. 
“I guess,” you tell Victoria. At least Taehyung hasn’t turned into a helicopter husband. “I don’t know. Maybe I just wish that I didn’t have to deal with him at all.”
Wish you could turn back time. Wish you could worm your way out of an arranged marriage before it was too late. Wish you could go back to the way things used to be. 
You and Victoria talk for another couple of minutes before she regretfully has to end the call, citing both her beauty sleep and an 8AM meeting tomorrow morning as her reasons for hanging up. The moment you put the phone down, you sink back into the couch cushions, staring out the windows at the world below you.
Here’s the deal. What Taehyung does in his free time is none of your business. But also, it’s totally your business, because you are his spouse. A spouse who is an equal amount in the public eye as he is. What he does and does not do has a direct impact on what you do and do not do. 
It’s no secret that when you catch Taehyung sauntering down the stairs looking like a Gucci runway model, it’s not because he’s planning on catching a movie with a college friend and then playing video games for four hours on a couch in a basement. He is going out. To clubs, to parties, to exclusive events that he’s been invited to by his equally-rich friends, all of whom are acting like he’s the same bachelor he’s always been. 
And maybe that’s the real problem with your whole marriage—other than the glaringly obvious issue that it’s a marriage wholly unwanted by the two parties involved in it. Despite the ring on his finger, Taehyung is going out and pretending that nothing in his life has changed while you’re trapped at home, desperate to save you and your family’s reputation by keeping as low a profile as possible. You would give anything to march around the city all day, flashing middle fingers at paparazzi as you shop at your favorite high-end stores and frequent your favorite clubs. But you can’t, because your family’s fortune and influence is on the line. 
And apparently, Taehyung’s isn’t. 
It sort of makes you wonder why it was even Taehyung you ended up marrying anyway. His family isn’t any richer or more powerful than yours. Your spheres have always been sufficiently separate. What was it about him, and perhaps more importantly, his family that drew your parent’s eye? And what was it about marrying you that prevented him from saying no? Money? Prestige? Influence?
You suppose you’ll never know. But whatever mystical force that convinced Taehyung to agree to this must not be as important to him as your reasoning is to you, because it’s become exceedingly apparent that Taehyung does not care that he’s married. He doesn’t care about the ring on his finger, he doesn’t care about his public image, and he most certainly doesn’t care about you.
Perhaps you were naive for thinking this, but you actually believed marriage might tone him down a little. Might age him into a real adult with real world obligations. Instead, it’s only given you a firsthand look into who Kim Taehyung has been and always will be: a selfish rich kid.
You don’t bother waiting around in the living room until he gets back, but you are still awake by the time you hear the door creak open. Taehyung makes no efforts to hide his return. You can hear him chattering loudly on the phone as he stumbles up the stairs, can tell from his gait alone that he is most certainly wasted. You don’t want to know what he did tonight. You’ll probably be able to figure it out anyway when you wake up tomorrow morning and check your social media. 
What were you thinking, marrying him? That he would change? That he would suddenly become someone that you could rely on? You had no choice when you said, “I do,” but you were at least hoping that maybe one day, one day in a long, long time, the two of you would finally see eye to eye. Maybe there would even come a time when you would genuinely love him. How foolish. 
You close your eyes and try to imagine a world where you have married someone you love, someone who loves you back.
Not unlike the many nights preceding it, tonight is sleepless. 
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Unlike your marital status and general disposition, one thing that hasn’t changed about you is your love for extravagant events. Call you conceited, but there is something so much fun about putting on a fancy, expensive dress that you love and getting your hair and makeup done before going to an exclusive gala and posing in front of five hundred cameras. 
Actually, now that you think about it, maybe your wedding could have actually been pretty good, considering it let you do all those things. It’s a real shame there happened to be a storm cloud in the form of Kim Taehyung there to ruin it. Otherwise, you think you would have rather enjoyed that day. 
Tonight is the first event since your marriage where you and Taehyung are both required to show up and act like a happy married couple. Which would probably be a lot easier if you and Taehyung had exchanged more than ten words over the past two weeks. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but there was a part of you that thought you could use your arranged marriage to actually cultivate some sort of meaningful relationship between the two of you. So events like these wouldn’t be such a drain on both of you. 
When Kim Taehyung comes down the stairs, he actually doesn’t look too bad. You don’t know why this sort of thing keeps catching you off guard—like you don’t expect him to look that good whenever you see him. The problem is that you can’t even chalk up the surprise to him wearing tailored clothes or having his hair done. He just looks… good. 
Well, you suppose you do have to look at him every day for the rest of your life. It’s a good thing he’s attractive. At least he’s not sore on the eyes. 
Taehyung and his unfortunate attractiveness aside, the two of you don’t say a word to each other as you join up at the entrance, grabbing any last-minute items like house keys, chapstick, and whatever dignity you have left to spare. You send forced smiles and tight nods each other’s way in the elevator, staring straight ahead in the lobby of your building as the car pulls up to the front door.
By the time the two of you sit down in the back of the limousine, the built-up tension between the two of you is so thick you’re almost positive that even the chauffeur can feel it through the closed partition. 
If you were any more idyllic, you’d probably spend the drive over to the gala staring out the window and imagining yourself in a different life, on a train to nowhere, flowers in your hair and a journal in your hands. Or perhaps you’d be the CEO of your family’s company instead of having that responsibility passed down to a husband you don’t even want, sitting in an office at the top of a skyscraper overlooking the city. Anything. Anything but this.
But the idyllic part of you died when you realized that fantasies like that are nothing but distractions and that daydreams are for romantics and optimists and losers. 
“What’s our plan for tonight?”
Taehyung scoffs. “What do you mean, ‘what’s our plan’?”
You frown. “Well, we’re married, so we at least have to act like it, don’t you think?”
“Isn’t standing there and smiling enough?” Taehyung asks, an unimpressed eyebrow raised. 
You bristle. Maybe that sufficed for your wedding, but there was so much going on it was easy to distract yourself from the gravity of it all. But this event is not about you. It’s not even about either of your families. It’s about someone the two of you are, at best, distantly connected to, through work, through fame, through power. Which means that though the focus will not be on you, there will still be eyes looking your way. Eyes watching your every move. 
“Do you think it will be?” You challenge. Doesn’t Taehyung realize that things are different now?
Taehyung’s lips curl downwards. “What do you expect us to do, shower each other in kisses? We don’t even sleep on the same fucking floor.”
“Maybe I just expected you to act less like a stranger and more like a husband!”
Taehyung sighs. “Don’t.” The word is clipped, short. “Don’t tell me you actually want to be married.”
“I don’t.” It’s a response that you hardly have to think twice about. “But we are, and nothing can change that.” Unfortunately. But it’s a fact that you and Taehyung have both had to grapple with over the past few weeks, and it’s becoming increasingly obvious that you are more aware of it than he is. If Taehyung could have his way, he would ignore you for the rest of his life and keep partying with the rest of his bachelor friends until he keeled over and died. 
He huffs next to you, eyes staring straight ahead. You don’t think the two of you have met each other’s eyes in a week. Maybe more. They’re starting to feel as soulless as your marriage itself. “Whatever. What do you want me to do?”
“What do you think?” You cross your arms over your chest. “Just act like you don’t hate me. Can you do that?” The way Taehyung’s behaving right now, you expect that will be a challenge for the both of you.
“Only if you can. I’ll even hold your hand to prove that we love each other.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
The idea of holding Taehyung’s hand makes you want to implode. The mere thought sends shivers down your spine. But it’s better than nothing, and that’s good enough for you. At least you won’t have to kiss. 
The rest of the ride there is silent. You drive to this gorgeous mansion just outside the city, bathed in lights hidden amongst the bushes, illuminating both the architecture and the enormous fountain that sits in front of it. In a house this size, you imagine you could probably go your whole life without ever having to come across Taehyung. It actually makes you consider investing in a home that big. 
Taehyung helps you out of the back of the limousine, a cold hand clasping your own as you rest your palm against his. You can feel the way his fingers hesitate as yours make to intertwine with his as you walk towards the entrance, smiling at whatever camera flashes you encounter on your way. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were holding hands with a ghost. 
The moment you step inside and are ushered out of the door’s view, Taehyung’s grip relaxes on yours. For a moment, you think he’ll actually spend the rest of the night like this, a gentle hand wrapped around yours, but then he pulls it away entirely and shoves it back into his pocket. Oh. You frown quietly to yourself. So that’s how tonight’s going to go. 
You don’t make an effort to reach out towards him again. 
For an event concerning people you don’t know a damn thing about, everyone sure seems to know things about you. Other than greetings, you don’t think anyone’s said anything to you about anything other than your recent marriage to Taehyung. Every conversation is punctuated by a Congratulations! you do not feel that you have at all earned, considering you and Taehyung could barely look at each other on the way here.
Maybe Taehyung was right. All you really can do is stand there and smile.
“Oh, don’t tell me… Y/N, is that you?”
The champagne swirls around in the flute between your fingers as you turn towards the sound of your name, looking up to see a familiar face headed your way. 
Kim Seokjin is nice enough. He’s terribly handsome and got a flawless smile, but you know better than to trust those pearly whites of his. The sight of him alone is enough to make your body tense up. There was a reason you had explicitly told your parents not to invite him to your wedding. 
“Seokjin, what a surprise to see you here,” you say, forcing a smile. “I thought you were supposed to be in Switzerland right now.”
“Change of plans,” Seokjin grins back in that awful, awful way, the kind of grin that makes you feel like he’s looking right through you. “I came back early. It’s a shame, though, I missed your wedding.”
You shrug. “It was a humble affair.” It wasn’t. And you’re positive that Seokjin knows it wasn’t an accident that you didn’t extend an invitation to him or his family. 
“Ah, I see,” Seokjin says, nodding his head. He turns to Taehyung next to you, who is making no effort to hide how wholly uninterested in this conversation he is, and holds out a hand. “You must be Kim Taehyung, then. I’m Kim Seokjin. Congratulations on your wedding.”
Taehyung shakes his hand firmly, the air between the three of you growing unbearably palpable. 
“Seokjin’s father is the VP of News Daily,” You explain, eyebrows raised as you try to signal to Taehyung what exactly it means when Seokjin is speaking to the two of you. “And his mother is a popular journalist for the city’s post.”
Seokjin grew up in the world of media, and it seems he’s picked up his parent’s affinity for sticking their noses in places they don’t belong. You know he’s not talking to the both of you out of the goodness of his heart. 
Seokjin laughs, his hand waving away the mention of his parents. “Oh, please. That’s them. I’m just a bored socialite like the rest of you.”
You resist the urge to scoff. 
“Marriage treating the two of you well?” He changes the subject to what he really wants to talk about: you. 
“Of course,” you say quickly, preventing any hesitation on your end. Your empty hand reaches towards Taehyung’s, fingers searching for his between the two of you. But his refusal to join hands does not go unnoticed by you nor Seokjin, who is eyeing the space between your bodies with an eyebrow raised. “It’s just been—well, it’s just been difficult to adjust to a new life. That’s all.”
If you were to describe the face of a non-believer, it would be the exact expression on Seokjin’s face. “Perfectly understandable,” he says, that same toothy smile lacing his features. “But it must be nice, you know, to marry someone you love.”
“I couldn’t be happier,” you say, almost challenging Seokjin to say something even more inflammatory. He must know that all you’re trying to do at this point is save face. Love? Ha! As if. 
“And Taehyung?” Seokjin motions to your husband. 
You can feel the way Taehyung is stiffening beside you. “I suppose we are both lucky and unlucky in many ways when it comes to who we love.”
It’s enough of an answer to get Seokjin off your tail. For now. He bids the two of you a tense goodbye before sauntering off to go poke his nose in someone else’s business, fish for drama, a thread of a rumor he can pick apart with nimble fingers. You wonder if anybody actually likes him. 
The moment he disappears from earshot, you grab Taehyung’s wrist tightly and pull him close to you. “What the hell was that?” You hiss into his ear. 
“What?” You can’t tell if he’s playing dumb or if he really is that dense. 
“You!” You exclaim. “Kim Seokjin is the one person who could easily expose how fake this marriage is and you pull away from me? Right in front of him? You can’t even hold my hand for two seconds, that’s how much you hate me?”
“Who cares what he thinks?” Taehyung says. “He’s just another media rat. No one will even remember we were here tomorrow.”
“But if you keep acting like this, people will start to notice! Why can’t you just act like you don’t hate me, for one night? Is that so bad? Is it that torturous, to spend one night with me?”
“Do not turn this on me,” Taehyung orders harshly. “You’re making a scene. Come on.”
You don’t have time to shout at him for bossing you around like you’re a toddler throwing a tantrum before he drags you out of the venue, the two of you finding a back door to the building that leads outside. The cold air blows against your body, goosebumps popping up against your skin, but you find that the chilly night provides quite the respite after practically overheating indoors. Taehyung makes fire rush through your veins but at least the air can cool you back down. 
Nevertheless, your conversation is not over. It’s just been moved to a more private location.
“You do realize that our marriage isn’t going to suddenly go away, right? That we’re going to have to keep doing this for the rest of our lives?” You remind him, eyebrows raised. There’s a part of you that genuinely thinks he’s completely forgotten that your marriage is permanent.
“Oh, and not holding hands for five minutes for this one event is totally going to change the course of our lives, isn’t it?” Taehyung fights back.
“Don’t act like you did the right thing,” you spit out. “You don’t have to pretend in front of me. I know you don’t give a shit about our marriage.”
“What marriage is there to even give a shit about? Just because we had a wedding and signed some documents does not mean there is a real marriage between us. Look at us,” he motions between the two of you like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “We hate each other. Is this what you would call marriage?”
“But at least I’m trying to get past that!” You exclaim. “You make it seem like being as miserable as possible is some sort of badge of honor. Do you actually want to spend the rest of your life hating the person you married? Or do you want to grow up and try and move on?”
Taehyung frowns. “What I want is for the person I married to stop acting like they’re doing me such a huge favor by pretending to care about us. Especially when all they really care about is their family’s goddamn reputation.”
“No,” you tell him sternly. You are doing him a favor. He just can’t admit that he actually needs help from you. “You are putting zero effort into this. What am I supposed to do?”
“Let it go!” Taehyung shouts. “Maybe one day we’ll actually start getting along, but right now it’s obvious that neither one of us can stand the other. I don’t need you to do favors for me. I can handle it myself.”
You look away, rolling your eyes. “Doesn’t look like it to me,” you mutter to yourself. 
Taehyung cracks. “Fine. You want me to pretend that I actually care about us? I will.” Thank God. Maybe now the two of you will finally start seeing eye-to-eye. “But make no mistake about how I feel about you,” he spits. “Getting married to you ruined my life.”
You stare straight at him and his eyes are swirling, so obscured in the darkness of the night that you might even think he doesn’t have a soul at all. His pupils bore into yours and for once, for once in your goddamn life, after so many years of staring each other down at debutante balls, so many years of witty refrains and snarky insults hurled each other’s way, it feels like the two of you might actually snap. 
Then, a camera flashes.
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Trouble in Paradise! would be a suitable title for the front page of the city’s biggest tabloid… if anything about your life with Taehyung could be considered paradise. Unfortunately for the both of you, that is not the case. 
You don’t need to keep reading the rest of the trashy article on the front page of the daily tabloid to know how much trouble you’re in, nor do you even have time to scroll beneath the terrible photo of you and Taehyung literally shouting at each other before you hear your phone ring. 
You don’t even bother saying hello to whoever’s on the other end. You know it’ll go in one ear and out the other. 
“I assume you know why I’m calling,” your mother’s harsh tone spits from the other end of the phone. There’s no doubt in your mind that she’s standing in the middle of her office, snapping her fingers at her fifteen secretaries as they partake in the worst damage control your family’s had to deal with since your cousin two years ago was caught with a mistress outside a high-profile restaurant. 
“Can I take a wild guess?” You’re about to be scolded into the next century, so you might as well enjoy your last few moments. 
“Don’t get cheeky with me,” your mother warns. “Care to explain why you and your beloved husband made the front page of the Daily Post today?”
“I know,” you sigh, a hand coming up to rub at your temples. It’s eight in the morning, you’ve barely looked at your phone, and you haven’t even brushed your teeth yet. It feels like you’re still asleep, and most certainly lack the energy to deal with this right now. 
Your mother, on the other hand, thinks otherwise. “You know? You know, and you still go out and do this? For everyone to see?”
“We tried to take our argument outside,” you begin to explain, but your mother isn’t having a single word of it. 
“The fact that you thought it was even appropriate to have an argument in a public setting at all astounds me, Y/N. We raised you better than that.” There’s no need for you to even see her face. You’ve grown so used to that disappointed frown over the years that it’s burned into your brain. 
“Maybe you should have thought about that before marrying me off to a man I barely know so I could be someone else’s problem instead of yours,” you bite. 
“We did this for your own good,” she hisses back. “You are married because we love you, and we want you to succeed outside of this family.”
“Then why do you care what the tabloids print about me?”
“Because being married does not mean you are no longer a part of this family,” your mother informs you sternly, lips smacking together. “Your marriage reflects on all of us, and you know that. What will people think of us when they see how terribly behaved you are?”
“Everyone acts like that, and you know it.” How could your mother preach good behavior when everyone, everyone you know, is just as spoiled and entitled as you? There’s no such thing as being altruistic when it comes to people like you. Being genuine, and good, and pure—that will get you ruined. 
You can hear her breathing into the phone when your mother responds, “But not in public, and that is the point. We expect better from you.”
“If you were so worried about me behaving so badly, then why did you even marry me off anyway? You knew that I didn’t want to. What did you think would happen?” It’s a question you wouldn’t have dared ask three months ago. Hell, even a year ago, when it was first revealed you were to be engaged, you wouldn’t have dared open your lips. But things are different now. You’re married to a man that hates you just as much as you hate him. He is making no effort to improve your relationship and seems hellbent on despising you forever. There is no way to get out of it. And if your parents really foresaw all of that, then what was the point in the first place?
“Your grandmother.”
Your mouth shuts. 
“You know she wanted to see you married before she passed,” your mother says, words clipped and biting and harsh. “She cares about you. She wanted to make sure you’d be taken care of.”
“I don’t need anyone to take care of me,” you mutter to yourself like a petulant child. In a way, you sort of are.
“If you want to stay in her will, I suggest you change that mindset.”
You freeze in your tracks. The will?
“Is that a threat?” You ask, positively dumbfounded. Are you being coerced into staying in this marriage because of your grandmother’s will?
You can hear your mother laugh, that muted, knowing chuckle of hers. “It was the deal all along, remember?”
Vaguely, you do. You remember fighting your parents tooth and nail over getting married until your grandmother revealed it was her dream to see you wed. You remember the look on her old, wrinkled face, that soft, sad smile that said she knew she didn’t have much time left. You remember agreeing, because how could you deny her? You remember her promising to remember what you’re doing for her. 
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m not.”
“But—”
“That’s the end of this conversation, Y/N. You fix things with your husband or you’re out of her will. She’s made that clear. I expect you’ll make the right choice.”
She hangs up. 
Well. 
There are a lot of ways to describe how you’re currently feeling, and you most certainly had an expensive education that would provide you with plenty of the vocabulary, but you think the most appropriate words for the current situation would be: you’re fucked. 
At least the feeling is mutual. 
Hardly two minutes after your mother’s brutal phone call, Taehyung comes storming down the stairs, hair still mussed from the night prior, his own phone clenched tightly between is fingers. Even from where you stand in the middle of the living room, you can see the way his eyes are glinting with anger, the veins popping out from his skin. 
“I just got off the phone with my parents,” Taehyung begins, not even bothering to spare a ‘good morning’ your way, “and they are fucking furious about last night.”
You shrug. “Join the club,” you mutter, arms crossed in front of you. What, does Taehyung really think you got off scot-free?
“Don’t act like this means nothing to you,” Taehyung says as he approaches you, footsteps calm despite his demeanor being anything but. “You’re the one who’s so obsessed with keeping up their family’s perfect reputation. You’re the reason we’re even in this mess in the first place.”
“What do you mean, ‘I’m the reason’?” You ask, astounded. Like he’s totally absolved of all blame and just an innocent third party. “You are the reason we went outside. You are the reason we had that argument, because you refuse to accept the fact that we’re actually married and there’s nothing we can do about it.”
“Right, because holding hands is really gonna show all those people how in love we are. I bet your parents are so thrilled right now.” Taehyung drawls. 
“It’s a start!” You shriek. “God, you’re just so—so infuriating! You can’t accept that this was your fault, too. You just have to turn everything against me and you always, always have to get the last word. It’s like you think you’ll die if you don’t.”
“Like you’re any better,” Taehyung huffs back. “You think I’m the villain because I don’t want to pretend to be in love with someone I’m not in love with. You act like us not holding hands is going to ruin our lives. It was one event! One! It’s obvious we hate each other, so why even try?”
“What, do you expect me to just sit around and do nothing? To act like everything’s fine? Like I’m happy?” As if. This marriage is the worst thing that’s ever happened to you. “While you prance around the city with your rich boy friends, going out to clubs and parties and pretending that I don’t exist? Is that what you expect from me?”
Taehyung laughs, this loud, disbelieving sort of noise, like he’s never heard such nonsense before. “Just because we’re married doesn’t mean the rest of my life has to change. Am I not allowed to enjoy myself with my friends? Or are you determined to keep me chained to your side for the rest of our lives?”
“What I want,” you punctuate every word, “is for you to stop acting like you haven’t got stakes in this, too. You think I don’t know how your family works? What being married to me means for you? Because I do. And I know that if we were to divorce, it would be you who would get the short end of the stick. Make no mistake.”
That’s enough to shut Taehyung up for a good few seconds. And it shuts him up, because he knows it’s true. Taehyung’s family may have a little more money, a little more power than yours, but you’ve got a family intimately more connected with the media. One phone call and Taehyung may have a rather messy, rather public breakup to deal with. 
“You wouldn’t,” he says, calling your bluff. 
“Are you sure about that?” You say, sticking your ground. You would never really divorce him, of course, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“I am,” Taehyung says firmly. “Don’t think I don’t know what being married to me is in it for you. What is it? Money? Power? Your father’s CEO position?”
“That’s none of your business,” you snap quickly. Maybe you’re more transparent than you thought. Bristling, you straighten your shoulders and turn back to meet his eyes. “Regardless, it seems we both have a reason to stay in this marriage.”
“It seems we do,” Taehyung agrees with a thin, contained smile. “Then I suppose we can reach some sort of agreement.”
“As in…?” Your interest in piqued. 
“I’ll stop going out with my friends if you stop picking fights with me all the time,” he says economically, like he’s killing two birds with one stone. 
“Only if you agree to also act more like my husband when we’re in public,” you tack on, because you just can’t settle for anything less. 
“Public only,” Taehyung specifies. 
You scoff. “Like I’d even want to pretend to be your wife when we’re in private.”
“Good. It seems we’ve come to a deal.”
“What’s in this for you, huh?” You prod, just to be annoying. Taehyung’s right. There’s a reason you’re not divorcing him the second you get the chance. But there must be a reason why he’s not doing the same thing. 
“Does it matter?” He challenges, a single eyebrow raised. “My life is just as awful as yours.”
Fair enough. 
“Do we have a deal?” Taehyung asks, holding out his hand, that sneaky, devilish grin lacing his features. 
Taking his hand in yours and grasping it firmly is the easiest decision in the world. His palm presses against your own, hot hand meeting your cold skin, and it feels like the two of you are finally finding some sort of balance. You look up into his eyes, burn your gaze into his pupils, watch them glint in the white ceiling light of the living room. 
“Deal.”
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For two people raised on the values of reading the fine print and making educated choices when it comes to business deals, you and Taehyung sure haven’t worked out any of the intricacies of the deal the two of you agreed to. Unlike those business deals your parents constantly agreed to, however, knowing all of the stipulations and provisions of your strange, strange agreement with Taehyung may prove more harmful than helpful. 
Like right now. 
“Wait, we don’t have to be by each other’s side the whole night, do we?” Taehyung asks you, eyebrows furrowed in a knot, as you sit in the back of a big, black van on your way to a mutual friend’s twenty-first birthday bash. 
“There are going to be a lot of cameras there,” you respond. 
“Yeah, outside the entrance to the damn club. You know they won’t be allowed in, so who cares?” Taehyung rebukes. 
You huff out a little sigh, not wanting to get into an argument when you’re literally minutes away from your first public appearance since the whole tabloid debacle from three weeks ago. You and Taehyung could both do with being a bit more relaxed than you normally are when you’re around each other. 
“Hasn’t Clarissa invited hundreds of people? They’ll all notice if we aren’t together,” you remind pointedly. The girl whose birthday party you are attending is an heiress who grew up on the money of two people with a monopoly over the current artificial intelligence market and has millions of followers on social media. There will be notable people there. And people will know the two of you, as well. 
Taehyung rolls his eyes. “That’s the point, Y/N. There’ll be so many people, no one will even care. It’s her twenty-first birthday. Do you think people are going to be sober?”
You purse your lips together. He’s got a point. “How about when we are together, we hold hands. But if you see a friend or something then feel free to say hi.” Taehyung can be afforded that luxury. Especially because the chances of him not bumping into someone he knows is exceedingly low anyway. 
Taehyung nods in agreement. “You too. But I won’t leave you unless I know you’re with someone you’re close with.”
“You don’t have to stay, I’ll be fine,” you say with a small chuckle. What, is Taehyung suddenly worried, or something?
“Yeah, but it would be in bad taste if I left you with someone you didn’t know well. Or alone. Just wanna make sure you’re taken care of.” He shrugs nonchalantly, turning back to look out of the window on his side of the car. 
“Okay.” 
You don’t really have anything else to say to that. You’re sure you can handle yourself if you’re left alone for a few minutes while Taehyung says hi, but you actually find yourself rather appreciative of his resolve to look after you. Or, at least, make sure someone else is looking after you. It’s quite… chivalrous. Strikingly out of character for the Taehyung you’ve become well-acquainted with over the past couple of months. 
By the time you arrive, it’s obvious that Taehyung was right about there being so many people you two practically don’t even exist. Other than the herds of camera crews waiting outside the joint, photographing everyone that steps out of a black car to see what they’re wearing and who they’ve come with, no one seems to be paying you any attention. And in a way, that sort of nonexistence, that anonymity, it’s refreshing. Your entire life you’ve felt like all eyes were on you, like there was constantly a spotlight above your head, but here, the party centers around someone else. 
Despite that fact, Taehyung keeps his promise. He keeps himself pressed closely against you when there’s not enough space for you two to stand side by side, and he makes sure to have a hand gently intertwined with your own as you weave your way through the dozens of bodies in the room. He doesn’t say anything, of course, always looking up and forward instead of beside him, where you stand, but you find that you’re actually quite relaxed with his presence. He spots a bit of a clearing near the back of the first floor of the club, where a whole bunch of leather couches are pressed up against the brick walls, where the two of you can take a breather. 
“Damn, Clarissa knows a lot of people,” you say when you finally settle down, happily plucking a martini from a tray held by one of the many caterers wandering through the venue. 
“I doubt she’s even spoken to half of them,” Taehyung comments. “She and I have maybe spoken once… three years ago.”
“It was enough to get you invited, wasn’t it?” You point out with an eyebrow raised. 
Taehyung nods, chuckling a little. “Touché,” he says, clinking his own cocktail glass against yours. 
You take a swig of the drink, letting it wash down your throat. You’re not exactly sure how else you’re supposed to survive the night. “You must enjoy this, huh?” You muse, looking up at Taehyung from where you’re seated on the couch. He’s standing next to you, looking around the room with a distant gaze in his eye. 
“Enjoy what? The drink? It’s nice,” Taehyung says, having another sip. 
“No, I mean this,” you say, motioning toward the crowd. “The clubbing, the dancing, the drinking. I’ll bet that if you could do this every day for the rest of your life, you would.”
“I’m honored that you think so highly of me,” he deadpans. 
“Just making an observation,” you say, holding your hand up in surrender. “I mean, isn’t this what you used to do every weekend before we got married? Get wasted and party? Wake up in someone else’s bed the next morning? Muscle your way through the week just so you could do it all over again?”
Taehyung shakes his head, a knowing grin on his face. “Looks like someone keeps up with her tabloids. Let me guess, you would scroll through all of those trashy articles on your phone whenever you woke up so you could see what your future husband was doing?”
“I could have never even met you and I would know that that’s exactly what you do,” you say, even though you definitely did do those things before your engagement was announced to the public. “You’re a heartbreaker, Kim Taehyung. I don’t need to read a tabloid to know that.”
“Well, you must be quite the lucky girl, then,” Taehyung comments. “You seem to be taking up so much of my energy that I don’t have the time for that anymore.”
You place a sarcastic hand on your heart. “I didn’t know you were always thinking about me. I’m touched.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Taehyung huffs out, making the two of you both shake your heads as you chuckle to yourselves. First civil conversation you’ve had with each other in a long while, even if there may have been a few blows exchanged. 
The privacy doesn’t last long. Soon after, a huge crowd of people that could honestly still pass for teenagers herds towards the back of the club, all of them wanting to take pictures with each other. You and Taehyung do your best to stay out of the way, but one of the girls recognizes him from the Elle photoshoot he did about a year ago and begins to strike up a conversation with the both of you about your recent marriage. If she was paying attention to anything the tabloids leaked three weeks ago, she doesn’t mention it. Taehyung smiles and happily answers all of her questions, and even offers to take a picture of the group for them. The conversation ends before the two of you even catch her name. 
You’re standing by the line of buffet tables laid out against the staircase leading up to the second floor, no doubt as crowded as this one, when the opportunity for you to speak to someone other than Taehyung finally presents itself. 
“Y/N!”
You’d recognize that voice anywhere. You turn around to see Victoria barreling towards the both of you, not even caring when she accidentally spills a bit of her piña colada on the floor as she does. 
“Hey!” You exclaim excitedly. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“Are you kidding? I’m pretty sure Clarissa invited everyone on her, her best friend’s, her best friend’s cousin, and her best friend’s cousin’s dog’s contact list,” Victoria says with a laugh. “It’s nice to see you. I feel like you’ve been holed up in that big ol’ penthouse for weeks.”
“Damage control,” you remind her succinctly. Victoria knows enough that that’s all the explanation she really needs. 
“I don’t know if the two of you have ever met formally,” you say, thinking back to your wedding, where Victoria spent most of her time schmoozing with your parents (who love her) and didn’t even engage with any of the people who Taehyung’s family had invited. “Taehyung, this is Victoria. Victoria, Taehyung.”
“Pleasure,” Victoria says in that loud, unabashedly forward way of hers, holding out a friendly hand. Taehyung smiles back curtly, taking her hand and shaking it gently, so as not to spill any more of her drink. 
“Mine as well. I remember you were at our wedding.” Oh? So he does know her?
“That I was. Oh, I miss that day. The food was excellent. Tonight’s isn’t too bad either. Hope you’re doing well, the two of you. It’s nice to see you getting along,” she says, always the observer. 
Taehyung’s eyes widen a little when he picks up what Victoria is not-so-subtly putting down, but you place a hand on his upper arm to calm him. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “She won’t say anything.”
“My lips are sealed,” Victoria adds. 
“If you wanna go spend time with some of your friends, you can,” you say, giving Taehyung a nudge. He looks positively helpless standing in between the two of you as Victoria out-extroverts him. 
“Alright,” he says hesitantly, even though you know he’s already spotted at least ten people you’re sure he’d want to spend time with over you. “I’ll come find you soon, okay? Don’t go too far.”
You nod, and Taehyung disappears off into the crowd. Not two seconds later, you hear someone else call his name in a familiar tone. 
“I thought you said you hated him,” Victoria points out as the two of you watch his caramel brown hair makes its way throughout the crowd. 
You take another sip of your drink. “I do,” you say. 
Victoria looks at you like you’ve just told her you’ve sworn off custard-filled doughnuts. 
“What?” You ask, feeling suddenly defensive. 
“Nothing,” Victoria singsongs. “It just doesn’t look like that to me.”
“We just need to keep up a good appearance in public, that’s all. You know how mad my parents got when the tabloids leaked all that shit a few weeks ago,” you explain. You’re not sure what all the fuss is about. Taehyung said he would do these things. And he did. That was him upholding his end of the deal. This is you upholding yours. 
“If you say so…” Victoria says, not looking at all convinced. “I guess I’m just surprised that—that you two seem to be getting along so well. Maybe you being married isn’t going to be the worst thing after all.”
You stare back out into the crowd, scanning the top of people’s heads for Taehyung’s familiar locks. In the dim light of the club, you have a difficult time finding his, squinting your eyes slightly as you look around, but eventually you spot him, dancing happily with some old friends of his you recognize. He looks like he’s having a good time. And that makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, this might end up alright. 
“Yeah,” you say, though with the pounding of the bass and the alcohol already rushing through your veins, it doesn’t really feel like your voice belongs to you. You look back at Taehyung, knowing exactly where he is now, and you smile. Just a little. “I guess he’s not so bad.”
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You never do get a chance to meet Taehyung’s friends that night. By the time he joins back up with you and Victoria he’s by himself, a little more drunk than when he left, and ready to go home. And for once, instead of fighting him, instead of insisting you stay an hour more just to make sure you’ve done all of your rounds, you let him take you home. 
Taehyung has been spending a lot more time at the penthouse lately. Perhaps his family’s business happenings are slow, or perhaps he’s actually starting to get more comfortable with inhabiting the same space as you, but he has definitely found himself quite the rhythm in that house of yours. He even comes down to the first floor rather regularly. 
When he’s home, Taehyung is a lot quieter than you thought he would be. Granted, you don’t exactly know what you were expecting in the first place, but it certainly wasn’t him ruminating in one of the home offices while the Beatles play softly on the stereo, nor was it him reading a book in French in one of those big old grandfather chairs in the living room. If you didn’t know any better, you’d probably think he was still absent in that old way of his, ghostlike and silent, like he was occupying the space instead of truly living in it. 
But you do know better, and even though Taehyung is just as noiseless as he used to be, the house already feels a little bit fuller. 
Perhaps the reason you’ve become so keenly aware of his presence over the past few days is because of the notable fact that Taehyung has indeed held up his end of the deal, and no longer goes out with his friends in the evening. Or at all, for that matter. Which strikes you as rather odd, because he’s the epitome of a social butterfly, a thousand contacts in his phone and a whole group of friends he regularly spends time with. Maybe his parents told him to tone down the public appearances, too. And that’s understandable, but don’t they know Taehyung? Can’t they see how much he thrives on social interaction? It almost makes you feel… bad for him. 
To remedy this, you suggest he invite over his friends. Just for a few hours, you swear you won’t mind. 
“Seriously?” Taehyung looks positively shocked when you tell him he can, standing in the doorway of the office he seems to have designated as his own. 
“Yeah, why not?” You say with a carefree shrug. Besides, you’ve never met his friends anyway, and now seems as good a chance as any to introduce yourself. You are his wife, after all. “Unless your parents say you can’t. But it’s not a problem for me.”
“You… don’t mind if I have my friends over for a bit? Honest to God, we’re probably just going to play FIFA for three hours straight,” Taehyung says like it’s some sort of warning. Like the idea of him and his buddies from college are going to sit in the living room screaming at the television, leaving you alone to do literally anything else, is somehow bad. 
You laugh. “It’s fine, really. Call them. I’d actually quite like to meet them.”
Taehyung picks up his phone almost instantly, as if you’ll change your mind in the next five minutes so he better get them over soon, and already you can see the way his face is lighting up, the way his eyes crinkle as he chats to his friends and the way his lips curl upwards when they crack a joke back. Isn’t it obvious? He feeds off of the energy of others. Who are you to deny him such a simple pleasure?
As it turns out, Taehyung’s friends actually end up being quite nice anyway. 
He invites over three, because four people is apparently the perfect number for a hardcore game of FIFA on his Playstation, and they are all very handsome men you have never met before. You suppose like attracts like, after all. 
“You must be Y/N,” says the first one you see when you open the door to let them in. He doesn’t look a day over twenty-one—in fact, he could probably still pass as a college student—and has rather long dark hair that drapes over the sides of his face, covering the edges of his big doe eyes. “I’m Jungkook. This is Jimin and Hoseok.”
“Nice to meet you all,” you say, stepping aside so they can enter.
The shortest one, Jimin, grins in response, and Hoseok, behind him, gives you a wave. It’s refreshing enough as is, not having to exchange formal greetings and shake each other’s hands like you do with everyone else. Hoseok even gives you a bit of a nod, too.“You, too,” he says. “We’ve heard so much about you.”
Oh, have they, now? Interesting. 
“All good things, I hope,” you say awkwardly, forcing a small smile as Taehyung comes bounding into the room, ears perked up at the sound of his friends’ voices. 
“Definitely. Thanks for having us over. We didn’t wanna intrude on the sanctity of your new place,” Jungkook says, gesturing vaguely to the house as a whole. He’s got this excellent, genuine grin on his face, the kind that people who are just happy to be alive always wear. 
Already he’s said enough to charm the shit out of you. Who knew Taehyung’s friends could be so… friendly? “Please, you’re welcome any time. I was just thinking Taehyung was getting a little lonely.”
“There he is!” Jimin shouts excitedly when he spots Taehyung behind the two of you, looking a lot more casual than he normally does when he’s alone with you, having abandoned his usual silky button-down and wide-leg slacks for a loose shirt and some sweatpants. You didn’t even know he had those things in his closet. 
“Hey, everyone’s here!” Taehyung exclaims, just as happy. He squeezes past you to give the three of them a big hug, and it almost makes you feel like you’re intruding on something you shouldn’t be in. Even though this is literally your house. 
“Nice place you got here,” Hoseok comments, eyes drifting around the living room. “Very minimalist, I like it.”
“Sure hope you don’t spill anything on those nice leather couches of yours,” Jungkook says. 
“Yeah, unlike Kook, who has spilled tomato soup on every shirt he’s ever owned,” Jimin jokes, earning laughs from Taehyung and Hoseok and a punch from Jungkook. 
“Moved after we married,” Taehyung says simply, shrugging his shoulders. It’s an easy enough explanation for why it doesn’t look at all lived in. Here’s hoping none of them realize you sleep in different bedrooms. 
“Yeah, congratulations on that, man,” Hoseok says, giving Taehyung a celebratory nudge in the shoulder. “Who’d have thought, out of the four of us, Kim Taehyung would be the first one to settle down.”
The way Taehyung’s body tenses up at that comment does not go unnoticed by you. 
“Seriously, I would have never guessed,” Jimin adds on. “You’re showing us a new side of yourself, Tae. But I’m happy for you.”
Normally, you’d probably take offense at such blatant insinuations that your husband was a former playboy, especially from his equally noncommittal friends. But truthfully, it’s not like you were blind to Taehyung’s transgressions either. And what matters most is the fact that since it was announced publicly, you are the only woman he’s been seen with since your engagement. 
“Me too. You seem to really like her. I’m glad,” Jungkook pipes up, sending a smile your way. You definitely feel like you don’t belong in this conversation. “I think the two of you will be good for each other.”
“Yeah, I hope so,” Taehyung says with a nervous chuckle. His eyes quickly shoot your way, the two of you meeting gazes, your hesitant expressions matching. At least the two of you are on the same page. “Alright, alright, enough,” Jungkook says. “Who’s ready to get their ass kicked in FIFA?”
“You’re on, Jeon. But when I win, you owe me a five-star dinner,” Hoseok challenges. 
“Deal.”
Hoseok, Jimin, and Jungkook immediately crowd towards the couch, and you take that as your cue to leave. But before you can disappear down the hallway, you and Taehyung look awkwardly at each other, hands tied. It’s not like you can say anything to them. 
The truth is that, sometimes, it’s easy to forget that not everyone else knows that your marriage is just for business. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that there are still people out there that believe you marry for love. 
Isn’t it crazy to think that you used to be one of those people, too?
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“Hey,” Taehyung says when you meet up at the bottom of the stairs again. 
“Hey,” you respond. 
“You look nice.”
You scoff a little to yourself. What, are you exchanging compliments now? “Thanks,” you say, looking him up and down. “You’re not so bad yourself.” Like he ever is. 
“I knew you had taste,” Taehyung teases, and it’s the sort of comment that would have earned him a melon ball to the face back when the two of you were teenagers at a debutante ball, but today only earns him a roll of your eyes as you join hands. You don’t have anything big tonight—just a small dinner to celebrate some sort of business accomplishment for your family, which means that all you have to manage is not ending up in some sort of food fight by the end of the night. 
“I didn’t have a choice, did I?” You retort easily as you get into the car. 
You don’t normally speak a lot on the way to events. Not that you ever did, but even as your relationship has slowly faded from pure hatred to attempts at compromise, you both seem to relish in being able to stare out of your respective backseat windows and into the city that surrounds you. Just out of curiosity, about halfway through the ride you look towards Taehyung to see what he’s up to, and find yourself genuinely surprised to see him leaning against the window with his eyes closed. Is he sleeping? A couple more minutes of gazing at him tells you he is, because his body has gone lax and his breathing has evened out, soft snores leaving his mouth. This ride can’t be longer than twenty minutes. Has he not been sleeping well? Up in that enormous second-floor bedroom of his?
He’s awake by the time the car parks outside the restaurant, this fancy name brand steak place that was chosen solely because the biggest beneficiaries of your family’s new business deal are two sixty-year-old men whose entire diet consists of beef and beer. No cameras tonight, just a small family affair. You and Taehyung hold hands as you enter the restaurant and are led to the private room in the back anyway. 
You and him are seated on the far end of the long, rectangular table, alongside all of the other adult children dragged along to celebrate something that has no effect on their lives. But it’s nice, because the space alone prevents your parents from actively speaking with you, and you and Taehyung can stay in your own little bubble, only chiming in for a toast when necessary. 
“What are you going to get?” He asks you, the two of you gazing at the menu. No matter how fancy this place is, all the options seem to boil down to steak, steak, steak, steak, and caesar salad. Classic. 
“Oh, so you actually care now?” You counter, an eyebrow raised in amusement. 
Taehyung laughs. “Aren’t I supposed to?”
You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously, wise to his usual shenanigans. It’s hard to tell if Taehyung really means what he says, or if it’s all for show. But perhaps he’s asking because he’s genuinely curious, since no one else seems to be paying you any attention. 
“The choices on this menu are simply overwhelming,” you say, motioning to the six options in front of you. 
“I know, I’m so torn,” Taehyung jokes, making you huff out a little giggle. At least he’s still got that same sense of humor. 
You both end up going for a pretty classic steak dinner, which neither of the two of you finish because the damn portions are the size of your head. Dinner is, in and of itself, absolutely mindless, all of your parents talking about things that don’t concern you whatsoever, leaving you and Taehyung to your own devices as you desperately try to make the night go by faster. 
At one point, you notice Taehyung’s foot brushing up against yours, the leather of his loafers brushing against the toe of your patent heel. Thinking someone of it, you push back, foot nudging his back to his own chair. It’s not a second later that Taehyung retaliates, the two of you dancing around each other underneath the table. 
If the two of you were any younger, or perhaps any less resigned to your fate, there’s no doubt in your mind you would be attempting to get Taehyung to fall off his chair in an effort to do the same to you. Footsie means war. But when the both of you know that, at the end of the day, you’ll still be going home to the same place, and waking up the next morning in the same house, it doesn’t feel like this is a battle.
It’s just life. 
Eventually, you meet Taehyung’s eyes with a hesitant smile, shoe pressed against his, stuck in ceasefire. And for once, he doesn’t have that devilish look in his eye, that smug little grin on his face that tells you that he’s going to make you regret whatever it is you just did. He’s just smiling back at you, all pink lips, having found real fun in the little things. 
And that makes you happy. 
The rest of the dinner is uneventful, which, in your book, is about as good as a dinner can go. You cheers to the future of your parents’ relationship with their newfound partners and say a quick goodbye to them both, hurrying out of there before they can ask you any questions on your relationship with your husband. But you don’t spend the car ride in silence on the way back. 
Instead, you say, “Have you been sleeping well?”
The question seems to catch Taehyung off guard. He was already getting in position to take a power nap on the ride home, head pressed up against the window of the car. 
“What?”
“Have you been sleeping well?” You repeat. “I noticed you fell asleep on the way here.”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess,” he says, a hand scratching the nape of his neck. “I mean, it’s been hard adjusting, I suppose. But I’ll get over it.”
Hard adjusting? You’ve been together for nearly three months now. Three months worth of sleeping in the same penthouse bedroom, on the same soft-as-a-cloud mattress, underneath the same weighted blanket. And he’s still having trouble? 
“Oh. I mean, I just wanted to ask because you seem really tired lately.”
“I got a lot on my plate, what can I say,” Taehyung says with an empty smile, forcing a chuckle. “I’ll be fine, seriously. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Isn’t that my job?” You remind him. “I am your wife.”
Taehyung doesn’t say anything to that. He just lets out an audible breath, the kind you let out when you’re amused and have something snarky to say, but don’t have the energy to get the words off your tongue. 
The rest of the ride is pretty quiet. 
When you get home, you place your house keys in the bowl by the entrance and take off your shoes, just about ready to take a hot shower and collapse in bed, when Taehyung’s voice stops you. 
“Hey,” he begins, almost hesitantly. You look back at him inquisitively. “I was thinking, maybe, if you wanted, we could start sleeping in the same bed?”
You scrunch your nose up. Not in disgust, but in surprise. In bewilderment. What brought this on, all of a sudden?
“Really?” You ask, because you can’t help yourself. “I thought we liked the separate bed thing. Gives us privacy.”
“Yeah,” Taehyung says with a shrug, “but—I don’t know, it’s stupid. I just thought, you know, since we’re married and all. And it’s been three months.” He looks about two seconds away from backtracking, from shaking his head and going upstairs before you can say anything else. 
“Alright,” you say quickly, nodding your assent. Taehyung’s eyes widen when he hears the word, like he had completely expected you to shut him down the moment he made the suggestion. “If that’s what you want. We can try it.”
“You sure?” He asks, that same hesitant smile from earlier lacing his features. It’s strange. He almost looks… sweet. Nervous. 
You grin back at him. “Yeah, I am.”
Taehyung lets you grab some of your toiletries and your pajamas from your designated bedroom before you head up the stairs together, towards the bedroom he’s claimed for himself. Funnily enough, this is the first time you’ve been in his room. Three months of living together and you haven’t dared step foot on the second floor. 
You don’t know what you were expecting when he opens the door to let you inside. Maybe a room that screamed ‘Taehyung’ a little more than this one does. One that looks like an actual human has been living here. But other than one of his classic silk button-downs draped over a chair, there’s not a shred of evidence someone has actually been sleeping here. You could honestly be fooled rather easily that the shirt, too, is just decoration. 
“You can pick a side,” Taehyung says casually. He grabs his own sleepwear—an old t-shirt and some sweats—and heads into the bathroom to change. 
You wonder why Taehyung has had such a difficult time adjusting. This room is about as lavish as a bedroom can get. And yet. 
Sitting down on the left side of the bed, you begin to remove your own clothes, unzipping tonight’s dress and stepping quickly into your pajamas, hurrying to make sure Taehyung doesn’t catch you half-naked. How funny is that, you think to yourself. You’ve been married for three months and you still can’t bear the thought of Taehyung seeing you without a shirt on. 
When Taehyung comes out of the bathroom, hair all messy and clothes all casual, he grins lazily to himself. “I sleep on the right anyway,” he comments mindlessly. 
Within twenty minutes the both of you are about as ready to pass out as you have ever been, the only lights still on the ones on your respective nightstands. 
“Goodnight,” Taehyung says, reaching an arm over to switch his off. 
“Goodnight,” you tell him, turning off yours as well. And all of a sudden, the room is shrouded in darkness. 
You fall asleep instantly. 
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When Taehyung wakes up the next morning, the first thing he says to you is that he hasn’t slept that well in ages. 
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“You slept together?” Victoria shrieks, so loud you actually have to move your phone away from your ear as you punch in the code inside the elevator for access to your floor. 
“We did not sleep together,” you emphasize. “Okay, well, we sleep together, as in, in the same bed. But we are fully clothed. And not the slightest bit interested in doing anything other than sleeping.”
“I thought you said you liked having your own space,” Victoria points out. “When was the first time you—uh…” she pauses to find the right words, “shared a bed?”
“A couple weeks ago. It’s really not so bad, I don’t know why you’re so hung up over it,” you say, lips pursed. You squeeze the phone between the side of your head and your shoulder, hands full of shopping bags, the string of the handles burning your skin. Maybe you should look into getting a personal shopper. 
“I’m hung up over it because, for the longest time, you have sworn off Kim Taehyung. Called him dead to you. Insulted him every chance you get.” 
You scoff. You don’t need reminding of how much you hated him, how much you can’t believe you have to spend the rest of your life with him. “It’s different now. We’re married. And he said he wasn’t sleeping well. I felt bad.”
“He wasn’t?”
“Enough about him,” you say, shutting her up. You don’t feel like talking about him with Victoria anymore. “Word through the grapevine says that your parents are actually thinking of letting you start your own company?”
It’s enough to distract Victoria. For the rest of the ride in the elevator, she talks animatedly about a new streaming service her parents are considering letting her launch, under their parent business, of course, but it’s her own company nonetheless. And you’re proud of her. Proud she could do something your parents would never dream of letting you do. Proud she could make that happen. 
You push open the front door with the side of your hip after entering in the security code, phone still snug between your ear and your shoulder, when you hear Taehyung call out your name. 
He comes into view from the kitchen, which surprises you because you have, on multiple occasions, made fun of how much of a disaster chef he is, especially because he’s admitted to you he’s not a very good cook. 
“I made brownies,” he says, holding out a plate of the chocolate treats in front of you. Instinct has you dropping your bags on the floor by your feet and reaching out, but you eye him first, suspicious. 
“I have to go,” you tell Victoria, hanging up before she even gets a chance to object to your sudden departure. “You made these?”
“Yes, I did,” Taehyung says, rather proud. 
“And the kitchen is… still standing?” You ask, skeptical. 
Taehyung frowns at you, clearly unimpressed. “How bad of a chef do you think I am?”
“Pretty bad,” you admit with a shrug. 
Taehyung pouts sadly to himself for a moment. “These are good, I swear. Nothing weird in them like vegetables or anything either. I used a box mix.”
“No wonder they look so nice,” you comment snidely, hesitant hand reaching out to grab one. They feel like brownies. So that’s good. 
“Hey, I was the one who had to crack the eggs and shit. Three eggs! And not one eggshell in the bowl!” Taehyung says, clearly very pleased with himself. 
You laugh at his enthusiasm, taking a bite. It’s good. And exactly what you needed after a long day of shopping. “I’m proud of you. They taste good.”
“I knew you wouldn’t doubt me.” Taehyung grins.
“They’re really good, actually,” You amend, genuinely surprised. And the best part is that you can count at least ten brownies left on that plate, which means that you get at least five more. Which, if you had any less self-restraint, you would probably eat all at once within the day. 
“I’m glad you like them. They’re all for us, you know. No one else to share them with,” he says.
“Honestly, I’m probably going to finish them by tonight. You’ll have to make more tomorrow,” you say sheepishly. 
“We can make some together,” Taehyung suggests. 
“I’m looking forward to it,” you respond. The words come off your mouth easily, tumbling from your lips without you having to think about it. You aren’t saying them because you have to. You’re saying them because you want to. Because baking with Taehyung doesn’t actually sound too bad. Especially if it means more brownies. 
“You’ve, uh, you’ve got something,” Taehyung says, gesturing vaguely to the side of his lip. 
“Oh, I do? Yikes,” you say, a little embarrassed. Your hand comes up to wipe at the left side of your mouth. “Is it gone?”
“Wait, here, let me do it,” Taehyung says, reaching out towards you. He presses his palm against the side of your face, cradling your cheek and jaw in his enormous hands, and all at once it feels like your skin is on fire. 
Your body freezes up at the touch, at the way his thumb swipes at the corner of your mouth, right against your lips, wiping away nothing but a goddamn brownie crumb. You look at him, look right at him, how can you look anywhere else when he’s right in front of you like this, and it feels like you are caught in his gaze, a rain droplet trapped on a web, a bee stuck in its own honey. His big, brown eyes sparkle from the ceiling lights, a chocolate sky that mirrors the food he just made for you. He looks at you and his eyes are so soft, so open, so happy to be looking right back at you. God. 
“There,” he says, a moment too late. 
“Thanks,” you stammer out, speechless otherwise. 
You both stand there, looking at each other, wordless expressions drawn all over your faces, no idea what to do next. 
After a while, Taehyung breaks the silence. “Do you wanna order takeout tonight?”
“Okay,” you nod, still a little breathless. Taehyung smiles before retreating back to the kitchen, leaving you standing in the entranceway, shopping bags abandoned by your side. 
You look over to where he’s vanished. There’s a part of you that wishes he hadn’t left. A part of you that makes you want to see him again. 
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Phone calls from your mother are never good. The last time she called… well, you know how that went. So when you see her contact information light up your home screen, it’s only instinct that you feel your heart rate spike. 
“Hello?” The voice that comes out doesn’t even sound like yours. 
There’s no good way to put what comes next. Your grandmother has died. Heart attack. The paramedics got there too late. It was over before it even started. 
For a moment, for a split second, it feels like everything is frozen. Like the world has come to standstill. Your mother’s voice echoes in your ears, suspended in time, the words turning into stone as they crash onto the floor. And when they do, it is as if everything comes back to life. 
Truth be told, you don’t know how long you stay there, sitting on the edge of the left side of the bed, your phone resting lifelessly in the palm of your hand. It feels at once like an eternity and only a second in time. You spoke to your grandmother two days ago. You had promised that you and Taehyung would visit her soon. How can this be happening?
Your phone buzzes relentlessly in your hands, condolences pouring in from every person in your contacts, sorry’s and heart emoticons and If you need anything, I’m always here’s filling up your screen. There’s a part of you that vaguely registers your mother, alongside some of the other members of your family, trying to call you. But nothing can seem to shake you. 
Until—
“Y/N? You still up here?”
You hear Taehyung before you see him. Hear his voice, hear his footsteps, hear the door creak open as he enters your bedroom. Slowly, almost sluggishly, you twist around to look at him, the mere act knocking the wind out of you. Or maybe you were already breathless. 
“Hey, you alright?” Taehyung knows instantly that something is wrong. 
“My grandmother died.” The words sit heavy on your tongue. There’s no point in not telling him. He’ll find out soon enough. He’s… he’s family, isn’t he?
“What?” Taehyung freezes in place. “I—I’m so sorry to hear that, Y/N. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” you say, voice weak but steady. You blink up at him, once, twice, three times, and then suddenly you feel tears running down your cheeks. 
Taehyung doesn’t say anything else. He rushes to your side and sits himself down on the bed next to you, arms wrapping around your body. And you don’t think about the fact that it’s him, about the fact that this is the closest the two of you have ever been. You just let yourself be engulfed in his frame, let yourself be enveloped in his hold as the tears stream down your skin, little hiccups jolting your throat. You close your eyes and press yourself into his arms, head resting against his chest, and wish so desperately that so many things about your life were just a little bit different. 
It must be at least five minutes before either one of you dares to move. Your phone begins to rattle incessantly, that familiar and insistent buzz that the both of you are hard-pressed to ignore. 
“I think you should answer that,” Taehyung whispers into your skin, lips right by your forehead. 
“Yeah,” you sniffle, sitting up next to him and wiping the remnants of wetness by your eyes. Well, Taehyung’s seen you cry. There’s no going back now. “You’re probably right.” You look down at the phone. It’s your father. 
“I’ll be downstairs, okay? Unless you want me to stay,” he offers, looking hesitant. 
You shake your head. “No, it’s—it’s okay. I’ll be fine.”
“Call me if you need me,” he makes you give him a nod of understanding before he finally gets up, hands slowly removing themselves from your skin, leaving little sparks in their wake. Remnants of warmth. Suddenly, you feel much colder. Hardly a minute later he’s out of the room, and you can hear his distant footsteps as they make their way down the stairs. 
Sighing, blinking, and swallowing all at once, you pick up. 
The call passes by in a blur. Your father says the will will take at least half a year to be executed, but that the funeral is already being planned. Your grandmother had hoped you would eulogize her. You agree, but you have no idea what you will say. He says Taehyung is invited but does not need to come if he cannot make it. He says a lot of other things too, about your mother, about your cousins, about your aunts and uncles and your poor grandfather, who passed five years ago, but you can’t even remember them moments after he’s said them. 
When he hangs up, the tears on your cheeks have dried, patches of them left along your skin. You head to the bathroom, getting off your bed for the first time that day, and try to wash away everything that has stained the morning. A part of you doesn’t even want to bother, just wants to slug downstairs and eat as much sugary cereal as you can get your hands on, but you can’t go down there looking like this. Looking so helpless. 
By the time you reach the kitchen, Taehyung is already standing there, on the opposite side of the counter island, a big stack of pancakes in front of him. They look mouth-watering. 
“Hey,” he says softly. “Thought you might want something to cheer you up.”
“Did you make these?” You ask, a little endeared. That was thoughtful of him. 
“Yeah. They’re still warm,” Taehyung says. He holds out a fork. 
You grin. 
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The funeral is a week later. It sucks in every way that something can suck. But not in the same way your wedding sucked, or even the announcement of your engagement. It sucks because it’s a funeral, because you have to stare down your grandmother’s casket when a part of you still doesn’t even believe that she’s gone. Because everyone there is so sad, so melancholy, dressed in all black and looking down at their feet. Because everyone is so sorry for you, so sorry for your loss, everyone has nothing but condolences to offer you. What will those do? They won’t bring her back. They won’t change things. They won’t make you feel even the slightest bit better. 
Taehyung comes. He comes because he offers, and because you want him to. You want someone whose hand to hold. Want someone to smile at you when you’re speaking in front of your entire extended family and trying not to cry. You want someone who is familiar, and warm, and there for you. 
And most of all, you want someone who won’t keep the conversation going when you get home. 
“Do you wanna order Chinese?” He asks, coming into the living room, where you have been sulking on the couch ever since you stepped foot inside the door. 
“That sounds nice,” you force out. 
“Okay. Your usual?”
“Yes, please.” You don’t bother asking how Taehyung already remembers what you like to order when you’ve only gotten Chinese twice in the last three months. 
“I’ll call them.” He disappears off into the kitchen. 
What you do appreciate about Taehyung is how he has defaulted to food as a comfort measure, and how the thought alone genuinely brightens you up a little bit. You don’t know each other very well—still, after three months, you couldn’t even say his favorite color—but he is doing his best, and he is trying his hardest. In some ways, you were unlucky to marry him. To marry someone you didn’t love. To be forced into a union you had no say in, with someone you had so much antagonistic history with. 
But in some ways, your luck has changed. In some ways, marrying him was perhaps the best thing that could happen to you. Taehyung is snarky, a little devilish, and absolutely full of himself, but he is not thoughtless. He is not heartless. He has proven that he is willing to put in the work. That he can grow to care. To change. To compromise. And isn’t that the luckiest thing you could have gotten?
“I’m sure you’re probably sick of hearing people tell you they’re sorry for your loss.”
His voice breaks your reverie, carrying throughout the wide open space of your living room. He’s grinning honestly where he stands, slowly making his way over to you. 
“Kind of, yeah,” you admit. “It’s not going to bring her back. Most of those people probably don’t even mean it.”
“Don’t say that,” Taehyung says, sitting down next to you. “I’m sure they do.”
You look at him skeptically. 
“I mean, they’re sorry for your loss because that loss is causing you pain. And that sucks,” Taehyung explains, albeit a little less eloquently than you thought he would. “I know it sucks for me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t like seeing you sad,” Taehyung says honestly, shrugging to himself. 
You scoff a little to yourself. “I would have thought my downfall would be the exact thing the great Kim Taehyung would wish for himself.”
“Maybe a couple of years ago.”
You narrow your eyes. 
“Okay, maybe even a few months ago,” Taehyung admits with a laugh, making you smile, ever so slightly. “But it’s different now. I like it when you’re happy. When you’re snarky and funny and a little evil. Seeing you like this… I don’t like the way it makes me feel.”
“That’s called empathy,” you point out. 
“I’m trying to tell you that seeing you sad makes me sad, stop being a smartass,” Taehyung chides, and that really makes you grin. “There. There’s that smile I was looking for.”
“You’re so annoying,” you say, even though there’s no malice behind it. You give him a little push, palms of your hand pressing lightly against his shoulder as you roll your eyes. 
“Only for you,” he promises. He manages to grab a hold of your wrist as your hand meets his torso, pulling you into him as he wraps an arm around your torso. You gasp a little at the sensation, head falling against his body, fitting snugly in the crook of his neck. He gives your side a comforting rub. “I’m sorry today was so shitty.”
“It was,” you agree. “But Chinese food will make it a little bit better.”
Taehyung looks positively scandalized. “What? ‘Chinese food will make it better’? But not your loving, doting husband?” 
You pretend to think for a little bit, tilting your head up to the sky as you tap your chin with your finger. “Okay. Maybe that, too,” you cave after a bit of waiting, just to be extra bothersome. 
“That’s what I thought,” Taehyung says proudly, looking down at you, eyes sparkling. You can feel his grip tighten as he presses you against his body, letting you rest your head on his side. It feels like the longest hug ever, like you’re wrapped up in a weighted blanket. Only it’s not a blanket. It’s Taehyung. It’s your husband. 
He’s your husband.
“Tomorrow will be better,” he says, and it sounds a lot like a promise. 
You nod against him, letting your eyes drift shut. Things are pretty awful right now. Your grandmother’s dead. The funeral was the saddest family event you have ever attended. You have no idea what’s supposed to happen next. 
But he’s right. He seems to be right a lot these days, actually. 
Tomorrow will be better.
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Taehyung lets you sleep in for the next few days. Next several days, actually. Every time you wake up it’s close to noon and your husband is nowhere to be seen, the right side of the bed cold to the touch. It’s nothing to be worried about, though, because you can still see the noticeable dip in the bed from where he lies upon it, sinking his weight into the mattress. Taehyung’s an early bird and you’ve been having fitful nights ever since your grandmother passed. 
Today, you pull yourself out from underneath the covers around noon, sluggish and still tired, squinting as the near-afternoon light streams through the enormous windows of the bedroom. Taehyung must have thought to keep the curtains open today. 
You pull on the first casual clothes you see in your shared closet, some wide-leg sweatpants and a drapey t-shirt, and trudge downstairs like a raccoon to a trash can, hoping to fish through the kitchen cabinets to find something to eat. 
Taehyung is, as far as you can tell, nowhere to be seen. You can’t seem to hear him anywhere, and a part of you wonders where he’s at when you stumble upon the note left on the granite counter. 
Had a meeting downtown, be back around 1! There should be smoked salmon and some cream cheese and bagels in the fridge. 
Taehyung.
You chuckle to yourself as you read his flowy handwriting, amused that he thought to let you know of, of all things, the available breakfast foods in the kitchen. You check the clock. It’s nearly noon. Which means you have just over an hour of the house all to yourself. 
Having the house to yourself for five minutes is infrequent enough as it is, let alone for a whole hour. So often is Taehyung around, somewhere, holing himself up in one of the dozens of rooms or mindlessly wandering down the hallways. And for how much Taehyung is present, the funny part is that you still have no idea what he gets up to most of the time. Despite your voluntary abandoning of the separate bedroom rule, the two of you are still firm proponents of the sanctity of your personal spaces. There are rooms in the penthouse Taehyung has never been in, rooms filled with your clothes and makeup and accessories for when stylists come over before an event. A sewing room that you had specifically asked your parents for, because a part of you never let go of that childhood dream of being a fashion designer. 
And there are rooms in the penthouse that you have never been in. Rooms with dark wooden doors that have always been kept closed, that you have never stepped foot in. It’s not that you aren’t curious as to what Taehyung gets up to. He could have a goddamn evil lair in one of those rooms and you would be none the wiser. But you don’t go, because he doesn’t go into your rooms. Because you two, despite all the vows you have broken, promised each other you wouldn’t.
An hour to yourself is almost a good enough excuse for you to head back up to the bedroom and take a nap. Not that you don’t get enough sleep on a regular basis, or that you even had a fitful night last night—hell, you woke up near noon today and already you want to go back to sleep—but what else is there to do when he’s not around? What new freedoms have suddenly been given to you?
You head back upstairs, much less groggy after that delicious bagel of yours, when you catch a whiff of what smells like wet paint coming from down the hallway. It’s potent and immediately invades your senses, prompting you to wonder if that has always been there, or just magically appeared. Maybe you were so sleepy earlier, you didn’t notice it. 
Well, you notice it now. Unable to help yourself, you start to wander down the hallway, towards the source of the smell. God, it stinks. It takes you back to those days in middle school, when you would spray paint projects inside a tiny little classroom, have to step outside for fifteen minutes while you cracked the windows and aired it out. It gets stronger the further down the corridor you go, like a thick, smelly cloud stationed firmly within the walls of the penthouse. And then you realize where it’s coming from. 
It’s an art studio. 
A very messy art studio, you amend to yourself, as you peek inside. The door is wide open, and all of the windows are popped too, but the extra air circulation doesn’t seem to have made a dent in the scent. And all over the floor, the walls, and the tables are canvases covered in paint, denim jackets and pants and shirts with these wide, unafraid brushstrokes. Open cans of spray paint lie discarded on the hardwood floor stained with splotches of red, yellow, and green. 
Is this what Taehyung does in his free time? Is this where he goes, this bright, sunny room at the end of the second floor hallway? Is this what he is making?
You look down in awe at the clothes resting on the floor, splayed out to maximize dry time. Abstract faces, landscapes, and words are painted onto the backs of jackets, the fronts of old white t-shirts. What hasn’t made it onto the clothes has been put on canvases instead, blurs of color mixed together in this purposeful pattern, confidence emanating from every stroke, every dot. It’s not art in the way that the gorgeous landscapes of Monet, the picture-perfect portraits of Kahlo, the messy, unplanned splatters of Pollock are. It’s art in a different way. In a Taehyung way. 
Who knew he loved it so much? 
You almost feel like an invader encroaching on his territory when you lean down to start cleaning up some of the mess, throwing out empty spray-paint cans and tossing out grey paint water. You don’t dare touch any of the work, don’t dare try to move it. You do what you can, washing out the brushes resting in the water and cleaning up the wet splotches of paint on the hardwood. Over time, the thick scent of still-wet paint slowly fades, disappearing out the window as the fresh afternoon air seeps in. And you stand there, in a room full of art, in a room full of pieces that Taehyung has undoubtedly poured his heart into creating, and you smile to yourself. 
That’s how Taehyung finds you ten minutes later, peering into the room after declaring that his meeting had ended early. 
“Thought I’d find you in here,” Taehyung says with a grin as you jump at the sound of his voice, eyes widen when you turn around to see him standing by the door. 
“Oh, hey,” you say sheepishly. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Maybe because this is the farthest room in the house from the front door,” Taehyung teases lightly, coming up behind you. “I see you found my studio.”
“I know I’m not allowed in here,” you admit. 
Taehyung scoffs. “Who says?”
“Didn’t we both agree on that?”
He shrugs. “Sort of. I think we just reached an unspoken understanding we wouldn’t invade each other’s personal space. But it was not in the fine print, no.”
“The fine print of what?”
“That deal we made.”
Right. That deal you made, four months ago, That deal, where the two of you agreed to pretend to be in love with each other during public appearances so you wouldn’t get burned at the stake by your families. Where the two of you agreed not to interact with each other otherwise because you hated each other so much. 
“Oh, yeah,” you say distantly, feeling naive for already forgetting about it. It doesn’t seem to have slipped Taehyung’s mind whatsoever. 
“It’s okay, I don’t mind that you’re up here,” Taehyung says, interrupting that piercing little voice in the back of your head that is asking you why on earth you forgot about that deal in the first place.
“Yeah, I—” You scratch at the nape of your neck, trying to find the words to say. “It just smelled like paint, so I wanted to see what you get up too. And it’s this, apparently.” You motion vaguely to the entire room.
“You sound… surprised,” Taehyung muses correctly. 
“I guess I am,” you surmise. “I’m rather impressed, too, actually.”
“Really?” It’s Taehyung’s turn to sound surprised. 
“Yeah,” you tell him honestly, looking into his eyes. “I—you know, I just came in here because the entire hallway smelled like wet paint and I wanted to know why. But I didn’t know you loved art so much.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Taehyung points out. 
You suppose that’s true. You don’t know his favorite color. His favorite song. His favorite book. For a long time, you didn’t know what he got up to on his side of the penthouse. You don’t know how he met his friends. What he studied in university. Who he has loved in the past. Who he loves now. You don’t know why he does the things he does, and why he doesn’t do the things he doesn’t do. 
But you do know his Chinese takeout order. 
And you do know his hobbies. Well, one of them, at least. 
Who’s to say you can’t learn more?
“Well,” you start with a smile. “I’m your wife, aren’t I? Shouldn’t I begin to learn?”
Taehyung picks up what you’re putting down instantly, grinning in response. “Only if you’ll tell me things about you, too,” he requisitions. 
“I will,” you promise. It’s the easiest one you’ve ever had to make. 
His face is light, bright, bathed in the rays of the afternoon sun. His eyes shimmer as they meet yours, golden flecks more pronounced like this, in this gorgeous, open space, daylight streaming through the windows. Looking at him makes you feel like you are surrounded by warmth, makes you feel like the sun is opening its arms out to you. He has always been gorgeous. Beautiful. But looking at him like this, standing in the middle of a room filled with all the things he loves, a yellow halo surrounding him—he is ethereal. 
Taehyung smiles. “Then I will, too.”
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The hand-holding comes naturally tonight.
The funny thing is, actually, you don’t need to hold hands at this gathering. It’s not an event. Or a public appearance. It’s not even a business dinner. It’s your aunt’s sixtieth birthday party, reserved exclusively for family. Isn’t that strange? That Taehyung is, technically, family now?
For so long you had vowed to stay as far away from him as possible. Vowed to stick it to him whenever and wherever you could, do anything you could to get on his nerves, rile him up. Vowed that when you, one day, took over your family affairs, you would never, ever invite him. Make it known that he wasn’t to be a part of your life. And yet, here you are. Clinging to him despite being well-acquainted with—loved by, even—every other person in the room. Holding his hand like a goddamn lifeline. 
To be fair, Taehyung doesn’t look a hair out of place here. Dressed relatively casually, a smart sweater with a collared shirt underneath it, he smiles warmly at all of your relatives and presents your aunt with a beautiful and very expensive scarf the two of you had commissioned from a designer in Italy, which she absolutely loves. She pinches his cheek and proceeds to wear it for the rest of the night. 
“Damn,” you murmur to yourself as you wander around your aunt’s house, hand wrapped around his arm. “This place hasn’t changed a bit.”
“When was the last time you were here?” Taehyung asks. 
The question actually makes you think for a moment. “I don’t know, maybe five years ago? Last couple of birthdays I was overseas or in school. Had to send her a card.”
“Bet your parents were real pleased with that,” he jokes, making you both laugh. At least you two will always be able to share your experiences of domineering and influential parents with each other. 
“Oh, I’m sure. Just as pleased as they were when they realized how much we hated each other.” You expect that little jest to elicit a laugh out of Taehyung as well, but he just smiles tightly, huffing out a breath of acknowledgement. 
“Eh, it’s not like that now, is it?” He offers up. 
“I suppose not,” you muse, sitting down together on her ancient grandma couch in the living room. No matter how rich your family gets, she’ll never get rid of this thing, that’s for sure. 
One thing you’ve picked up over time is that, for every second Taehyung spends basking in the spotlight, he spends an equal amount of time lingering by the wall, watching the rest of the world turn without him. He’s an observer. He is one by nature, feeling an irresistible pull to understand humans in a way only artists could ever do. He sits down next to you and watches your family in an environment where they can relax, where they can feel comfortable and be casual with one another. 
Very seldom have you ever brought friends to events like these. Small family affairs. But Taehyung isn’t a friend, is he? No, he’s your husband. He belongs here just as much as you do. 
“My family seems to really like you,” you point out. Not that anybody has ever harbored as much disdain for him as you. Your parents called him respectable and polite when they told you you were to be wed. Your grandmother had said he was a dashing young man. He doesn’t exactly have to reach far to be loved around here. 
“That’s my job, isn’t it?” He replies snidely. 
“Oh, just take the compliment,” you say with a roll of your eyes. Taehyung always has to be so difficult. “I’m surprised you aren’t nervous as hell. Last boyfriend I brought to meet my parents was shaking in his Louis Vuitton shoes.”
“Last boyfriend, huh?” Taehyung’s interest has been sufficiently piqued. “And, uh, how many of those have you had?”
You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously, smile twitching on your lips. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Mr. Heartbreaker.” Pretty rich of Taehyung to be asking you such a question when he’s probably had more girlfriends than you can count on both hands. “Not as many as you’ve had girlfriends, that’s for sure.”
“Guess I’m a lot different than all those trashy guys you’ve dated, aren’t I?” He asks, an eyebrow raised as he looks at you. 
“You are?”
Taehyung nods assertively. “Well, yeah. First of all, I’m your husband. Second of all, your parents love me. Third of all, you love me, too.”
You scoff. “Don’t humble yourself. You don’t know me that well.”
“Speaking of which,” Taehyung says, eyes wide as he points to you knowingly, “how about you tell me a little fact about yourself? It’s my job to learn about you, isn’t it?”
“That is my line, watch it,” you sneer, pointing back at him. You wrack your brain for a fact that you can tell him, something more exciting than your favorite color but less weird than one of those terrible icebreaker exercises you had to do in college seminars. Something that has pertinence to who you are. Who you’ve become. “Alright. I used to want to be a fashion designer when I was little.”
Now that catches Taehyung off guard. “Really?” He says, genuinely intrigued. 
You shrug. “Yeah. I learned to sew when I was really little. Been tailoring and hemming clothes all my life. But I always wanted to design my own stuff.”
“Is that what’s in your room?” Taehyung asks. “A sewing machine?”
“Bingo.”
“Wow,” Taehyung says. “I didn’t know that.”
“Isn’t that the whole point of this exercise?” You say, just to be smart. 
Taehyung shakes his head, eyes rolling. 
“What about you?” You ask. You can’t imagine what he’ll say. Astronaut. Veterinarian. Or, if he really wants to surprise you, a business executive. 
“A museum curator.”
It is an answer that simultaneously surprises and doesn’t surprise you at all. 
“Fitting,” you muse. “You could have put your own art on display.”
“Pretty sure that’s, like, super unethical,” Taehyung reminds you. 
“So? You’re rich. Start your own museum. Put your own art on display. Live your dream,” you amend. “It shouldn’t be holed up in that studio of yours forever. It deserves to be seen.”
Taehyung smiles at you. “You think so?”
You nod. “Of course. You create beautiful things, Tae.” It’s the first time you’ve ever called him that. And that is not lost on Taehyung, either.
“Thank you,” he says softly, blinking as he looks at you. He doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t need to.
Later that night, when everyone’s gotten a few drinks into their systems and Bruce Springsteen is playing low on the stereo, Taehyung disappears off towards the bathroom, no doubt because of the excellent soup that was served that night. All by your lonesome, you feel a little stranded, surrounded by your old relatives dancing on the hardwood floor of the dining room, your other cousins too young to actually spend time with. 
In the commotion, your mother comes up to you, swirling a rather large glass of red wine in her hand. 
“Where’s Taehyung?” She asks. 
“Bathroom.”
“No wonder you were alone,” she says with a hearty laugh. “The two of you have been glued to each other’s sides all evening.”
“He’s my husband,” you offer as an explanation. 
“I know, I know,” she says, shaking you off with a smile. Your mother is a lot more casual once she’s had her fill of wine, no doubt her favorite, Bordeaux. A lot more loving, too. “You really made your grandmother proud, you know? She loved you so much.”
“I know,” you say, trying not to get choked up at the mere mention of your grandmother. 
“She was so happy to see you with Taehyung. It made her feel safe that you would be taken care of,” she continues on, barely paying you and your swimming eyes any attention. “She would be so happy to see you with him now, too. How much you love her.”
“I miss her,” you hiccup out, trying to compose yourself. Nothing kills a birthday party like some sad sack crying over her deceased grandmother. 
“I know, darling,” your mother says, calling you by a nickname she has hardly used ever since you turned eighteen. She squeezes you tightly, a small hug of comfort. “I miss her, too.”
Someone calls your mother’s name, distracting her as she wanders off to your uncle, who is asking what the best way to cut the three-tiered cake on the dining room table is. She bids you a goodbye before disappearing towards the kitchen, no doubt ready to make the cutting of the cake an affair all on its own. 
Taehyung comes back soon after, spotting you instantly as you stand around in the living room. 
“Hey,” he says, noticing the wet shimmer of your eyes. “You alright?”
You nod, feeling better already now that he has returned. Now that he is by your side. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“I hope those tears aren’t because you missed me,” he says, wiping away a stray one that has escaped from your eyes. You close them as his thumb brushes against your upper cheek, your eyelashes, opening them only when you’ve felt his touch vanish from your skin, leaving little sparks in their wake. 
“No,” you say. But the night makes you honest, and a couple of drinks, even more so. “But I’m glad you’re here.”
Taehyung smiles. “Me, too.”
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For all those days you have spent together, never have you and Taehyung had a night in. Which isn’t necessarily completely surprising, considering how many evening events the two of you have had obligations to attend, considering your differing work schedules and meeting times. Considering that, for a very long time, the two of you had no desire to spend any time with each other at all. 
But tonight, there is nothing on your calendar. No galas, no dinners, no meetings, no schedules. There is only Taehyung, who has spent the entire afternoon up in his studio, inhaling spray paint fumes and doing what he loves. And there is only you, who has spent the entire afternoon wondering what the hell you’re going to do tonight when there is nothing else planned. 
You knock on the door to his studio, catching him right as he’s finishing up another piece. This one is a single flower, painted in broad, confident strokes, bright green and red and sunflower yellow decorating the canvas. 
“Hey, what’s up?” He asks, turning around to face you. 
“Wanna order takeout tonight?” You suggest. 
Taehyung grins. 
Thirty minutes and your favorite Chinese food later, you and Taehyung have settled onto the couch, trays of dumplings and noodles and rice in front of you, an unfunny movie playing in the background. 
You can’t remember the last time the two of you sat on this couch together. Maybe that night you had made the deal? Perhaps not even then. It wouldn’t at all surprise you if you found out that this was the very first time you and Taehyung have sat together on your couch, in your living room, in your house. So often is it occupied by others—Victoria, who sometimes comes over to ooh and ahh at your closet, Jimin, Jungkook, and Hoseok, who sit on this couch and play FIFA like it’s their job, your mother, when she wants to make herself at home in a place that doesn’t belong to her—but never you. Never you and him. 
“This is kinda nice, isn’t it?” You ask, swallowing a bite of dumpling. 
“Chinese food is always nice,” Taehyung responds over a mouthful of cold noodles. 
“Not that,” you say with a sigh, “this. Sitting together. Watching this shitty movie.”
“It’s not that shitty,” Taehyung tries to reason. On screen, the main character is getting pied in the face during some weird college fundraiser. “Okay, it’s a little shitty. But it’s good background noise, right?”
You nod halfheartedly. “I guess.” Silence. You take another bite of your dumpling, not really sure how to continue the conversation. “We don’t really get to do this a lot, you know? Sit and eat dinner and watch a movie together. Like a date.”
“We’re on a date now, are we?” Taehyung muses, eyeing you snarkily. 
“Isn’t that what this is?” You retort. 
He shrugs. “I suppose it is.”
“Tell me another fact about you,” you request, looking over to him where he sits on the opposite side of the couch. 
“About what?”
“Anything.”
Taehyung pauses, ponders for a moment. But he could never say anything wrong. Not when there is still so much you don’t know about him. Still so much you want to learn, so much you want to commit to memory. For so long you have stared at the planes of his face, the curve of his nose, the twinkle in those dark brown eyes. Those you will always remember. But what about who he is? What he loves? Those are things you still don’t know. 
“The very first time I met you,” Taehyung begins, “I asked Jimin what your name was.”
“When was that?” You ask. Despite you being someone who has spent the better part of the last several years vowing never to give Taehyung the time of day, you sure don’t remember when it all started. 
“That debutante ball,” Taehyung remembers fondly, “when we were fifteen. I asked Jimin what your name was because I wanted to ask you to dance.”
“Shut up, no you didn’t,” you say with a scoff. 
“It’s true. You were standing there in that poofy white dress and I wanted to ask you to dance,” Taehyung points out. The fact that he even remembers what you were wearing is shocking. 
Who knew. Who knew, back then, that you would one day grow up to marry him. 
“And what did I say?” You demand more. 
Taehyung laughs at the memory. “I came up to you, and I asked you if you wanted to dance, and you said, and I quote, ‘Who are you?’”
“No,” you say, aghast at your own behavior. Were those really the first words you ever said to KIm Taehyung?
“You did. Don’t you remember?”
You think back. Think back to every year you have ever known Taehyung, every year you have spent scowling at him from across ballroom floors, making some snide remark as you pass by each other in the hallway. Every year you have spent cursing his existence, willing him away from you so he could bother someone else. Every year you have listened to rumor after rumor of girlfriend after girlfriend. You think back and somewhere, somewhere in there, in those dusty corners of your brain and cobwebbed boxes of your heart, is that first memory of Taehyung, too. 
Of him standing there in some generic black suit, black hair swept over his forehead, shoes too big. Of him coming up to you, trying to be as suave as a fifteen year old could be. Of you saying to him, instead of a hello, or even a what’s your name, “who are you?” 
Of him saying—
“And you said, ‘your dream come true’.” Like a dam bursting open, the memories flood back to you all at once. “I remember that.”
Taehyung laughs out loud at the thought of him saying something so cheesy. “Unsurprisingly, you didn’t want to dance with me.”
“You were so—” you begin, but you don’t have the words. Don’t have the words to express how you felt about him that night. Don’t have the words to express how you feel about him now. Thinking about this, talking about it, it is a bridge. A bridge between what was then and what is now. A bridge between who Taehyung was and who you were and who Taehyung is and who you are. “—so unthinkable. I couldn’t believe you had come up to me and said that. I couldn’t believe you had the audacity. But something about that night made me remember you. Made me remember your name.”
“You thought about me after that?” Taehyung asks. “Is that what you’re telling me?”
“There is something about you that is unforgettable,” you say, honest and real and true. What else can you tell him? The truth is that you have always thought about him. Whether you liked him or not. 
You finish your dinner and place your trays on the end tables next to you, stacking your empty bowls and plates on top of one another as the movie rumbles on in the background. 
“It is kind of a shitty movie,” Taehyung admits after a while of being wholly unenthused. 
“Yeah,” you agree. “But it’s good background noise.”
Taehyung laughs at your little mockery, warm and deep and from his belly. You look at him. He feels so far away, on the other side of the couch. Feels like he’s miles apart from you. You have spent countless nights clinging to his harm, hand gripped tight in his. And sitting like this, a full couch cushion of space between the two of you—it isn’t enough anymore. So you inch closer. 
And closer. 
And a little closer. 
Until you’re pressed up against his side, legs touching as they rest neatly in front of you, backs stick straight as you stare at the television. 
Taehyung holds his arm up. An open invitation. 
Without asking, you lean into him, resting your head in the crook of his shoulder, in the space right underneath his jaw. You pull your feet up onto the couch and curl into his frame, pressing yourself against him. He is warm and firm and inescapable. He smells of coffee and paint and Chinese spices. He wraps his arm around you and pulls you in, as if there were any other place you’d rather be. 
You sit like that for a while. Wrapped up in each other. Lazing around on the couch as the stars twinkle above your head. The movie ends and the two of you don’t even bother skipping the credits, letting them and the cheesy 80’s pop song play on, a distant soundtrack. 
“I never thought any of this would happen,” you breathe out. 
Taehyung looks down at you curiously. “What? This?”
“All of it,” you admit. “Us. Getting married. That stupid tabloid picture. My grandmother. This. It’s all so new.”
“New things will happen all the time,” Taehyung muses aloud. “We can’t help when things change.”
“You don’t have any regrets?” You have plenty. Regrets that you’ll never become the CEO you wanted to be in college. Regrets that you’ll never become the fashion designer you wanted to be as a little girl. Regrets that you will come to resent this marriage, resent Taehyung more than you have in years past, all because you had no choice. Regrets that your grandmother couldn’t see you now. Regrets that there were so many things in your life you could have changed, but didn’t.
“I thought I did,” Taehyung tells you. “I wanted to spend more time with my friends. I wanted to major in art in college. I didn’t want to marry you. I know you didn’t want to marry me.” He looks down and you look up at the same time, eyes locking, inches apart. “But looking back on it, I’m happy where I am. With what I have.”
“I never thought it could ever be like this,” you say, words falling off your tongue before you even ask them to.
“What?”
“Us.”
There’s no need to elaborate. Taehyung understands. He understands that, half a year ago, you both would have thrown yourselves into a volcano before holding hands with each other. He understands that getting over your hatred for each other seemed like an absolutely insurmountable task. He understands that you had never wanted to marry each other, that you couldn’t believe you would have to spend the rest of your lives with each other. 
And he understands that now, things are different. 
“I’m glad things happened the way they did,” Taehyung begins. “I’m grateful for us.”
You press yourself impossibly closer to him, feel his grip tighten around you. Like this, you can hear his heartbeat. Hear it thump like a drum, steady and firm and unwavering. His heart beats against his chest and you wonder. 
You wonder if he can hear the way yours beats for him, too.
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There were lots of things that made your night in together special. But one of them is the glaring fact that you don’t get them very often. That their infrequency makes them all the more valuable. 
This has become blatantly obvious to you, because right now you are not spending a night in together. Right now you are stuck at a gala that you have to attend for the sake of business, drinking thin flutes of champagne and mingling with people you barely speak to. 
The one good thing about nights like these is that Taehyung looks positively gorgeous in suits. He sort of always has, but you’d never admit that to his face. At least not until now. And as his wife, you are lucky enough to have a front-row seat. 
“I can feel you staring at me all the way from over here,” Taehyung deadpans as he helps himself to a chocolate-covered strawberry from the buffet table. 
You’re too obvious to have any shame about it. “What can I say, I like the view.”
“Hard to believe I was the once the one being shouted at for being inappropriate in public,” Taehyung says with a shake of his head. He bites into the strawberry and eats it all in a single go, tossing the stems into a bin nearby as you join back up in the heart of the crowd. 
“It’s only inappropriate if other people hear,” you tease, letting him guide you, hand intertwined with yours, towards an empty corner where the two of you can snuggle up to one another in (relative) peace. 
“I don’t think the champagne was very good for your filter, Miss Y/N,” Taehyung hisses into your ear, warm breath tickling your skin. 
“Don’t you mean Mrs. Kim?” You pose, an eyebrow raised. 
That seems to do something to Taehyung. It’s not very bright in here, with it being nighttime and all, but even still you can see the way his eyes darken. See the way his lips curl upwards, feel the way his grip on you tightens. It sparks something within you. Something deep in the pit of your belly. 
Something that makes you want more. 
You test the waters. “Mrs. Kim has a nice ring to it, don’t you think, Tae?”
Taehyung looks about a moment away from losing control. But instead of slamming you against the wall in front of all of these people and giving you what you really want, he growls out, low and powerful, “Home. Now.”
He doesn’t need to tell you twice. 
You hail your car outside of the venue and it’s all the both of you can do to not jump on each other right then and there, in the backseat of this giant black van, overcome with want, with need, with everything in between. Taehyung’s leg bounces impatiently the entire ride back, and the feeling of your hand pressed against his doesn’t seem to be calming him down. He pulls you close to him in the backseat of the car, a hand resting on your thigh. You eye him carefully, as if challenging him to be any more daring. He grins. 
Home cannot come soon enough. The two of you tumble out of the backseat and into the elevators, where you mash the top floor button after entering in the security access code, desperate and shameless. The ride seems to take hours, and the heat that surrounds you practically smothers you, covers you, fills up your lungs and chokes you. 
There is nothing left by the time you reach your door. The moment it slams shut behind you Taehyung presses you up against the back of it, pins you against the wood as he hovers over you, eyes tracing your lips. 
“Tell me something,” he demands. 
“What?” 
“A fact. Something I don’t know.”
It doesn’t take much thinking. “I want you,” you breathe out, watch it hit his skin, watch the way his eyes glint in the light of the entranceway. “Please, Tae. I want you.”
It’s enough for him. 
This is not the first time you and Taehyung have kissed. The first time was nearly five months ago, in a chapel, at an altar, surrounded by hundreds of people. It was so unfun that you seem to have eradicated the mere thought from your memory. But you remember that feeling from that day. That feeling you got when you pressed your lips against his, cemented your marriage with a kiss. That heat. That sting. 
Kissing him now—that feeling has returned tenfold. When his lips meet yours, it feels like fire is rushing through your veins, setting alight every nerve it passes, unforgiving and relentless. His enormous hands come up to cup your jaw, fingers pressing against the skin of your cheeks as they pull you close to him, keep you trapped in his hold. This is not the first time you and Taehyung have kissed but it feels like it is—it feels like there is a lotus blooming on a lilypad in your heart, it feels like you have been struck by lightning, it feels like nothing else you have ever felt before. It feels brand new. 
Pressing back against him, he slowly releases you from the cage he has created against the door, spinning around so the two of you can tumble up the stairs and into your bedroom, unable to resist sneaking in pecks here and there as you make your way upstairs. Every step you take you stop, giggle as he presses you against the railing just so he can steal another kiss from you, put his hands all over your body. It’s a wonder the two of you even make it into your bedroom at all. 
When you do, however, all bets are off. Taehyung presses you against the still-made bedsheets with a glint in his eye and a growl on his lips, pupils blown wide as he stares down at you, at your body.
"Aren't you a sight? Laid out so pretty for me," he purrs, robbing a breath from you.
It's a tone you have yet to hear from him. You find yourself growing impossibly hot under his stare, burning with an uncharted desire.
You can hardly wrap your brain around it. Here you are, craving the man you had spent the better half of your young adult life loathing. Maybe it’s the champagne; maybe it’s the way his fingers are running slowly up the length of your clothed torso. Whatever it is, your stomach does flips, unfamiliar to the way your body preens under his touch.
"Don't let it go to your head," you tease, simply because you could.
Taehyung hums disapprovingly, pressing kisses into your neck as he grabs one of your thighs and wraps it around his waist, riding your dress up in the process.
You sigh, exposing your neck further for him as he paints bruises into your neck. It feels like just yesterday you had called him out at the altar for his habit of sporting the very same marks you were soon to wear.
Perhaps you should have thought twice about letting the man you had married purely under business pretenses press his hips against your clothed center, but as he rolls his into yours, your mind falls blank, silencing any and all reservations you should have.
Whimpering, you beckon his mouth back onto yours, tongue meeting his wantonly. 
You feel his fingers creep up the outside of your bare thigh, thrilling you in the most primal way. Reaching the band of your underwear after what felt like entirely too long, he runs the pad of his thumb against the lacy fabric.
 You could scream. He is doing this on purpose. He must be. Surely he knows how badly you were aching for him? For him to fill you– whatever the manner may be.
You let out a whine before you can help yourself, frowning as Taehyung looks pleased with himself, confirming his knowledge of your prolonged pleasure.
"What's that? Did you say something?" he mocks, looking cruel and yet strikingly gorgeous as he smirks above you.
"God, you're irritating,” you huff, hips jerking up against his as he pulls at the band of your underwear, the elastic snapping back into the flesh of your hip. "Just fuck me already."
He tuts, clearly unimpressed by your impatience, "Now, where is the fun in that?"
Your eyes flutter shut as his fingers suddenly snake their way between your thighs. Mouth falling ajar, you grip his shoulders as he runs his middle finger against your clothed slit, trailing up and down your warmth. To think he was still dressed while he was touching you like this...
"No... I think I'll take my time with you," he says.
You mew against his hand, arousal forming against his long digits' ministrations. You have to hand it to him. Taehyung knows what he’s doing. The life of a bachelor has seemingly served him well.
You aren’t usually vocal in bed, but the way he’s purring words of filth to you, breath hot against the shell of your ear as he tells you how hot and slick your pretty pussy felt against his hand, has you gasping and sputtering, your own fingers wrapping around his wrist.
The fabric of your panties provides a friction that toys the line of pleasure and pain, making you thrust up to meet his motions, your humility slipping from you.
Taehyung watches you intently, cock growing hard under the constraints of his dress pants. You look better than he could've imagined, eyes watering and body shivering under his touch, his fingers soaking with your arousal. He can only imagine what you'd feel like with his fingers fully buried into you, rocking them against your velvety walls.
He lets out a groan of his own, turned on by the idea of you fucking yourself onto his fingers, whimpering out his name in ecstasy.
There’s this part of you that faintly recognizes that Taehyung has done this plenty of times before. Plenty of times with plenty of other lovers. But there is a different part of you, that part that bursts with light and hope, that reminds you that he was never married to those other ones. That his allegiance lies with you. And that thought, knowing that deep within you, he is yours, makes your jaw fall slack, pretty noises tumbling from your lips and your thighs clamping around him.
You were close, closer than you care to admit. Every touch against you is careful yet deliberate as he reads the signs of your body, the way it keens and arches into him, offering you words of encouragement as your climax finally hits.
"That's right. Good girl. Let go for me," Taehyung coos, eyes dark and focused on your writhing form.
You cry out into the familiar space of your shared room, head thrown back as you ride out the high, letting it wrack your body, send jolts throughout your veins.
You barely have time to catch your breath when he presses his mouth back onto yours, kiss still as eager as it was when you both first entered your home. You are alight with satisfaction as he pulls away to press a trail of kisses against your jaw.
"I want—f-fuck," you stutter as he finds your already hypersensitive clit once more, rolling his thumb over your now soaked panties in tantalizing circles, "want to make you feel good, too."
Admittedly, this fantasy had crossed your mind once or twice, brought on by the way he carried himself in a suit and the way his large fingers wrapped around the champagne glass; confident, collected, and entirely charming. Who are you to shy away from a man like him? He certainly has always been rather good-looking. 
He pauses his motions, pulling his hand back to sit on your waist. Your dress is of the finest, most delicate satin, and after tonight's activities, completely wrinkled. You can almost hear your stylist's cries of dismay. Whatever. You have a steamer. And why focus on the dress when it’s obvious the two of you are focused on what lies underneath it?
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." You nod, skin still burning from your past climax.
Helping you back up, Taehyung stands. You lick your lips as you sit back up on the edge of the bed, watching intently as he unbuckles his belt, audibly hissing as his pants fall to his ankles, cock visibly straining against the fabric of his underwear. Thank God you don’t have to stand. With the way your thighs still felt weak and how your husband looks like a goddamn Adonis towering above you? Your legs surely would give out underneath you if you rose.
Brows furrowed, Taehyung palms over himself briefly before pulling down the waistband of his underwear, his painfully hard member slapping against his torso.
Your eyes widened on instinct. While the last thing you wanted to do was help inflate Taehyung's already large ego, you were certainly impressed at his size; thick and girthy, his tip red and shining with precum.
He couldn't help but smirk, thoroughly pleased by the way you stared at him unabashedly, chest rising and falling heavily.
"Open up for me," he orders.
And who are you to deny a request from your dear husband?
Your pretty lips wrap themselves around his engorged tip, all remnants of lipstick long gone by now. Taehyung hisses, a hand finding the side of your jaw as you run your tongue against the underside of his cock.
"Fuck, you're so pretty," he grunts, fighting off the urge to grip the back of your head and fuck your throat. As much as he'd love your have you choking and drooling all over his cock – and boy would he – he lets you set your own pace, not wanting to overwhelm you.
It doesn't take long for you to sink your mouth further down, however, clearly set on making Taehyung feel as good as you could.
A low moan erupts from his throat, digits pressing into your jaw in request to take more of him in, which you happily oblige.
You had your eyes trained on him, completely obsessed with the way he panted through pink lips, hissing slightly every time your tongue rolled over his sensitive tip.
Lolling his head to a side, his eyes meet yours, gaze primal and wolfish as he watches the way you worked his cock.
"Doing so good, love. Doing so fucking good for me,” he murmurs.
You hum against his skin at the sound of the sudden pet name, an unfamiliar feeling fluttering in your belly. You push aside the feeling, focusing instead on the way he grunts at the new sensation you had just given him.
Giggling, you pull off his cock, opting instead to press a kiss against his leaking tip, making sure to hold his eyes as you run kitten licks against it.
"God, you're such a tease." He shakes his head in disbelief. 
He looks so good above you, shivering and cursing out praises on how good your mouth feels, how well you take his cock. Running your tongue along the length of his shaft, you become certain that this is a display you can’t imagine yourself ever getting tired of. But you have all the time in the world, right?
"Y/N,” he gasps suddenly, hips jerking towards your face. "Love, I'm gonna-- gonna cum."
"Cum in my mouth, please." Your voice was pleading and desperate. Taehyung had never heard such words spoken more sweetly. 
"Fuck's sake."
You let out a yelp in surprise as his fingers work their way through your hair, bringing your head back down onto his cock. You relax, though, when you feel the hot ropes of his cum hit the back of your throat, your hands finding purchase on his thighs as you do your best to swallow it all down.
Pulling yourself off him, you let out a small cough, eyes watering slightly as you hadn’t managed to prepare yourself with a breath before his release. His large palm runs across the top of your head as you caught your breath, expression flickering with something unfamiliar. Could it be... fondness? 
Your heart stammers at the thought as you stand, slowly stepping out of your dress, letting it drape off of your figure. Taehyung looks absolutely gobsmacked, pupils dark as he gazes at you, eyes unabashedly raking your body. He’s shameless. 
You both are. 
Slowly, you step towards him, fingers reaching out towards his shirt, carefully undoing the buttons as you gaze at each other, expressions unreadable. 
"Tae?” You ask innocently, blinking up at him. “Fuck me?" 
Your polite request makes Taehyung chuckle. 
"Please?" You bring your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes blinking up at him adoringly for good measure. You reach the last button, let his dress shirt drape open. He brushes it off himself, stands there for a few seconds just to let the way you’re ogling his toned chest go to his head. At least he’s good-looking. 
He sighs, probably contemplating some clever rebuttal, but eventually decides against it as his cock is already twitching back to life.
"Alright, love. Turn around. On your knees for me," He orders, making your stomach flip.
To your surprise, you are hardly in place when the warmth of his large hands finds the soft of your tummy, pressing you back into his chest as he pressed a peck to the back of your neck.
You squirm in his hold, whining as that same hand of his grabs hold of your breast, long digit rolling your nipple between their tips. You can’t help but press your ass back into him. His cock feels hot and heavy, pressing against the back of your thigh, making your pussy clench in anticipation. 
You want him.
You want him so bad that you don't know what to do with yourself, shuddering as his free hand runs along the side of your ass, leaving scorching hot trails on your skin wherever he kneads into your flesh. He's touching you everywhere – everywhere but where you need him the most, and the arousal that drips down your thigh mocks you.
"Dammit, please!" You exclaim, running out of patience.
"Please what?" He says, an eyebrow arched.
You shiver, committing the way his middle finger traced your pelvic bone to memory forever.
You puff out a frustrated breath, nearly at your wit's end. "Please fuck me, Tae."
Taehyung pauses, grip on your breast and hip tightening as he lets out a moan. You let one out yourself as you feel him readjust, cock pressing against your slick entrance.
"Fuck, you sound so pretty when you say my name," He grunts. "Okay, baby. I'll fuck you. Begging so nicely for my cock."
You let out a squeak as you're suddenly pushed down onto your hands, back arching as he pushes his fat cock inside your heavenly cunt. He's thick, so thick, that you instinctively grip the sheet underneath you, fingers curled around them tightly as if it means to hold onto your sanity.
Taehyung lets out a shaky breath, angling your hips up so that you could take more of him.
"You feel—feel so good," he admits above you, and suddenly you wish you could see him. See the way his bangs stick to his damp forehead—see the way his tongue swipes over his bottom lip wickedly.
You let that thought go, however, as he thrust into you, making your jaw fall slack and eyes flutter shut. Profanities roll off your tongue unabashedly, helpless under the way his thick member pulls out of you, only to slam back into you.
You weren't expecting this. The way he stretches you out further than anyone had before. Your pussy clenches around him, reveling in the sweet, sweet burn.
He digs into the flesh of your hips, holding you steady as you mew and cry out, pushing your hips back in time to his, trying your best to meet his movements.
"Tae... fuck, fuck, fuck—"
He was filling you to the brim. Filling you tight and deep.
God, the way he was panting behind you was music to your ears. His cock pulses every time you call out his name, voice muffled and buried as you had your head pressed into the mattress, hair messy and bouncing with every hard thrust.
"S'good! Fuck... so, ah, big..." you cry out.
You feel drunk. Intoxicated off this beautiful man and the way he makes you feel a way only he can.
You nearly let out a sob as the rough pads of Taehyung's fingertips suddenly reach around you and find your neglected clit, rolling light circles on the soft and swollen bundle of nerves skillfully.
You are a mess, whimpering and drooling into your expensive sheets, and he filled every inch of you, leaving no place undiscovered. Your high nears, stewing on low heat somewhere near the pit of your belly, waiting for a chance to erupt and wash all over you. Taehyung must be close to, you realize, as his thrusts began to slow down, slamming into you roughly as if chasing after his high.
"Gonna take this load? Huh? Gonna let me cum inside your pretty little pussy?" His voice is straining, as if trying to breathe evenly but merely moments from falling apart.
If only you could formulate an intelligent response, but instead, you are a blubbering wreck, thighs shaking as they threatened to give out underneath you. But somehow, Taehyung knew. He had you. Quicking his motions against your delicate pearl, he could tell you were close too, and he was going to make sure you got there.
Suddenly, you're crying out and convulsing, tears brimming at the ends of your eyes as you feel Taehyung empty into you, collapsing onto his hands as well.
You feel his hot breath against the back of your neck as he pants, breath growing more and more even as the two of you regain control of your bodies and minds.
Pulling out of you, he plops down beside you, and for a moment, the two of you hold each other's gazes, eyes speaking in ways words never could.
Finally, after what feels both like an eternity and just a moment, you work up the courage to say something, moving closer to him as you place a hand on his chest, cushioning your chin as you rested on top of it.  
"Psst," you beckon, voice hushed.
"Yeah?" His voice is husky and tired.
"I’m grateful, too."
"Huh?"
"I’m grateful for us, too."
Taehyung's gaze is soft, and it lingers on you for a second before the sides of his mouth curl up tenderly. He grins down at you, eyes drifting shut. You feel him squeeze you closer, pressing you against his skin. And then, you hear his breathing steady, see his lips part slightly. 
You lean into his chest, eyelids fluttering. “Thank you, Tae.”
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Not unlike the many other mornings you have awoken in this bed, when you open your eyes as the morning sunlight streams through the windows, Taehyung is nowhere to be found. The sheets on his side of the bed are flipped aside, revealing that soft outline of his body from the night before left imprinted into the sheets, a dip in the mattress where he slept. You had fallen asleep all wrapped up in each other, tangled up like vines, but must have separated sometime during the night. Distantly, you register Taehyung’s voice outside, notice his phone missing from his bedside table. He must be on an early morning call. 
You check your phone for the time. Ten o’clock. 
A late morning call, then. 
Still basking in the afterglow of the night prior, you slowly inch your way out of bed, shivering as you pull the covers off you and scoot your legs around so they hang over the edge of the bed. You rub at your eyes until you faintly remember you did not take your makeup off last night, and when your hand comes away covered with black streaks and flecks of mascara, you wince to yourself. There goes five hundred dollars worth of a skincare routine. 
After washing yourself up and applying as many serums as you can to your skin, you wrap yourself up in one of his button-up shirts, the torso so wide that it drapes over you. The tips of your fingers peek out from the ends of the sleeves, and you cross your arms lightly over your chest as you make your way to the door, ready to entice your husband back to bed for round two. What? It’s Saturday. 
You peer around the door to find Taehyung standing a few feet away, facing away from you. He’s shirtless, and as his wife you have absolutely no problems ogling him, the toned curves of his back, the muscles in his arms. He’s always been a looker. You just finally have an excuse to look for yourself. 
You approach him quietly, not wanting to interrupt nor broadcast your sex life to anybody on the other side who may be listening. Already, the idea of crawling back in bed together sends goosebumps along your skin, makes you giddy with anticipation. You’re just about to tap him on the shoulder, lips curled upwards in suggestion, when he says—
“And my inheritance? That’s secured now, right? Because I said I would pretend to be in love with her in public—?”
And it is as if Medusa herself appeared in this room, turning you to stone as your heart thuds to the floor, a hollow, empty noise. 
You don’t hear the rest of Taehyung’s conversation. You don’t even hear the sound of your own heartbeat. This terrible, aching sound rings in your ears, silencing everything in its wake, drowning out even the sighs of your own breath. It is as if you have been frozen solid. As if you have been shot in the stomach. You stand there, feeling absolutely nothing, and all you can do is brace yourself for what is to come. Taehyung’s words were the knife but his next actions will be its removal, leaving in its wake an irreparable wound. 
He turns around, casual and cool, voice still hushed. As if you were still asleep. As if you hadn’t heard anything at all. But when he twists his body and sees you standing there, staring back up at him, lips parted in shock. 
“I’ll call you back,” he tells whoever was on the other side of the line, looking more panicked by the second. He opens his mouth so he can explain himself, but you don’t need him to. You’ve heard everything already. 
“I should have known,” you say, feeling angry and betrayed and sad all at once. “I should have known it was all an act.”
“Y/N, wait, let me explain—”
“What is there to tell me, Taehyung? What are you going to say? That you didn’t mean it? That you thought I wouldn’t find out? That last night was just a one-off?” You demand. The heat from your veins hasn’t left. Still, it simmers through your blood, burning you up from the inside out. “That you didn’t want to lie to me?”
“It’s not like that and you know it,” Taehyung says defensively, brows furrowed. “Just give me a chance to explain myself.”
“Explain yourself? How you pretended, every day and every night, just so you could get some more money in your bank account? So you could make sure you would get your father’s business when he died?”
Taehyung bites back easily. “Don’t act like you weren’t also faking it at some point. I know you were almost removed from your grandmother’s will.”
Your tongue is bitter at the mention of your grandmother. As if Taehyung ever even knew her. “My grandmother has nothing to do with this.”
“Really?” Taehyung challenges. “So you wanting to stay in her will was just a little bonus, right?”
“Don’t,” you say sharply. “It’s different.”
“Different how?” Taehyung spits. “Because right now, to me, it looks pretty similar to what I’ve done.”
“My grandmother died months ago,” you remind him. Her will is no longer the question. It has been written, settled, and executed. There was no reason for you to continue playing along once she took her last breath. No reason—unless you wanted to. “Meanwhile you’ve been keeping your inheritance a secret from me this entire time.”
“We made a deal,” Taehyung says. “A deal that said we would both act happy and pretend to be in love because we both had things we needed to worry about. Family things. Money things. You were a part of this, just like I was. You pretended, too.”
“Well, maybe I stopped pretending!” 
You can’t take it anymore. All this anger, all this emptiness, it’s been bubbling up inside you ever since you heard those first words come out of his mouth. It spills out of you all at once, an eruption from your lips, your heart’s doors bursting open. You have held his hand tightly in your own. You have pressed your lips to his. You have laid yourself bare in front of him. What is there left to protect? What part of you has not already been stained by him, by his touch, by the feeling of his fingers against your skin?
The hallway is silent, but you can hear your cry echo down the corridor. Hear the way it bounces along the walls before fading away. 
“Maybe I stopped pretending,” you repeat, softer this time. You blink and already can feel the streaks along your skin, the tears falling from your eyes. “Did you ever think about that?”
“Y/N, what are you talking about?” Taehyung looks like he’s in disbelief. Like he cannot believe the words you are saying to him. 
Well, that makes two of you. 
“Can’t you see, Tae? Can’t you tell?” You ask, the nickname falling from your lips before you can even help it. You must remind yourself to change that, later. “I’m in love with you.”
They are words you have never said to someone before. Not even your old boyfriends. Words that you always knew you would reserve for someone special. Someone who would touch your heart and make it their own, someone who would leave imprints of their fingers against your chest. Someone who would brighten you up from the inside out, leave you bursting with light. 
Ironic, that Taehyung has become that someone. When he is the one person you never thought could. 
When he has proven, time and time again, that you two just cannot mix. Oil and water. Pastel and acrylic. Satin and silk. 
“You don’t have to say anything,” you spit out quickly, before Taehyung has a chance to respond. “I know it doesn’t matter to you.”
“Y/N, yes it does,” Taehyung begins, desperate and pleading. “I know you heard what I said, but I swear, it stopped being an act for me, too. Things are different now, just like you said.”
“Don’t. Please.” You pull away as he reaches out towards you. Faintly, you remember that it is his shirt you are wearing. Remember that no matter what you do, he will always surround you. “Please, Tae.” You have nothing left. You can’t bear to look at him, but where else will you go? You cannot believe the things he’s said, the things he’s done, but where else would you go?
“I love you, too,” Taehyung says, and a part of you wants so badly to believe him. 
A part of you wants so badly to ingrain those words into your head, carve them into your heart, let him wrap his arms around you and promise that everything will be alright. But things are different now. Just like you said. You and Taehyung are not the same people you were six months ago. Or six weeks ago. Or even six minutes ago. You are helpless and he has proven that he does not care. 
“I have to go,” you say, looking away. You don’t think you could handle turning back to him again. “Please, Tae.”
“I’m sorry,” Taehyung says, and he reaches out once more but you are not there to meet him halfway. Were you ever?
“I know,” you whisper back.
You duck into your bedroom and pack a suitcase of everything you need. Being here is suffocating. Being with him is like setting yourself alight. 
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Victoria has no questions when you show up at her door later that day, suitcase by your side and this ridiculous bottle of Merlot in your hands. You had picked it up on the way over. You sort of figured you might need it. 
“You don’t wanna talk about it, do you?” Victoria asks. 
“Tell me about your streaming service,” you hiccup in response.
Victoria is happy to oblige. She even tells you that she still hasn’t picked a CFO, and that the position would be open for you if you ever wished to take it. 
Funnily enough, what will become of you once your father retires and passes along the company is the furthest away from your thoughts. 
You remember being so worried about that. Being so worried that, once they married you off like every good daughter should be, you would be absorbed into your husband’s life, cut out of your family’s. Your father would choose a cousin, an uncle, or even a friend to take after the business, bestowing upon you a thoughtful inheritance but nothing more than that. All of those years of schooling, finance in college, your MBA soon after, would be wasted, just so you could hang on the arm of your husband for the rest of your life. 
It’s thoughtful of Victoria to think of you for the position. She knows just as well as anyone else that you would be an excellent fit. And if things were just a little bit different, you would be jumping at the offer. 
But your future career plans are on the backburner, along with the rest of your life. 
All you can really do, right now, at this very moment, is wait for things to change. As they always do. 
“Don’t you have an event tonight?” Victoria asks about three days into your stay. She’s given you her favorite (her words, not yours) guest bedroom and an enormous closet to match, despite you only coming over with a carry-on’s worth of clothes. 
You scoff to yourself. “Like I’d want to go to anything with him.”
“Have you even called your parents?” 
“No,” you say, not even caring about the repercussions. There’s no doubt in your mind that they’ll be ringing you soon. And when they do, maybe then you’ll finally work up the courage to tell them what really happened. Tell them that you can’t go back there. Not yet, at least. 
“I’m sorry that this happened to you,” Victoria says as she hands you a bowl of vegetable soup, homemade from a couple of days ago. You nod to yourself, sniffling as you curl into the couch cushions and wish they would absorb you whole. 
There’s no need to ask her what she means by ‘this’. Everything. From your engagement to the marriage, from those tabloids to the deal, from your grandmother’s death to now. It has all been unfair. Life is unfair. And while you’ve always known that, it has been particularly cruel to you as of late. 
Still, when you wake up sometimes, you can still feel him tracing over your skin. Feel his lips hovering over yours, breath fanning out over your cheeks. You turn over and expect to see him lying there, on the right side of the bed, sheets mussed as they cover his figure. You wake up and for a brief moment, for that split, split second, there is peace. And happiness. And love. 
And then there is nothing. 
“Yeah,” you sigh. “Me, too.”
Maybe he really does love you. Maybe things really did change. But you have always been a pragmatic person, always let your head guide you rather than your heart. The secret’s out. Taehyung had an inheritance he needed to secure. You were his path to doing so. Those things haven’t changed. No matter if his feelings did. 
“Hey, look at this,” Victoria says, brows furrowed as she holds out her phone in front of you, revealing a livestreamed interview from the event tonight. 
You peer over. 
It’s Taehyung. 
Of course it’s Taehyung. Who else would she be showing you?
He stands in a clean-cut gray coat, draping over his figure, black dress shirt and slacks underneath, belt wrapped neatly around his hips. He holds his hand up in a wave and smiles politely to the cameras, to the reporters, letting the flashes wash over him like waves in the ocean. 
“Mr. Kim! Mr. Kim!” Someone calls. “Where’s your wife?”
Oh, God.
Taehyung grimaces a little, pursing his lips. “My wife won’t be joining me tonight.”
“Can you tell us why?” They shout. 
“Sorry, no more questions. Thank you for asking though. She’s well,” he says, quickly ushering himself along, entering the venue so no more reporters can bombard him. When he disappears, the livestream immediately moves on to the next guest, but you hardly pay them any attention. 
“Huh,” Victoria says aloud. 
Indeed. Taehyung’s response strikes you as rather odd. Why would he tell the public that? Why not make up a lie, say you’re sick, or you’re overseas, or you’re just late? Why simply tell them that you won’t be there? Surely, Taehyung is just as aware of the consequences of arriving at an event without you as you are. There’s no doubt that his parents will be in contact with him soon, too. No doubt that this will leave a stain on his family. His image. It might even threaten his inheritance after all.
So why not lie?
You frown to yourself, nose scrunching up in confusion. You don’t like where this train of thought leads.
“You okay?” Victoria asks when she sees the bewildered expression on your face.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” you say. Just completely befuddled. It escapes you, why Taehyung wouldn’t just make up some sort of excuse as to reasoning behind your absence. Why he would even show up at the event at all. Certainly, going to the event without you is worse than not going at all. It prompts questions. It spreads rumors. 
Later that night, you get a call from your parents, demanding to know why you weren’t there with him. You say you got sick. You plead with them not to question anything. 
You wonder what happens next. You and Taehyung still have two more events this week. A dinner and a ball. What will you do then?
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Taehyung goes solo for the dinner. You suppose you could have predicted that, considering his apparent willingness to arrive alone for the first event, too. He hasn’t made any efforts to contact you and for once, you’re glad for his silence. Not that you even know what he would say to you, anyway, but at least he isn’t begging you to come back to him. 
The sad truth is that if he did, if he got down on his knees right in front of you and willed you to come back home, you probably would. He has always been impossible to resist. Even when you first met him, when he sauntered up towards you and told you he was your dream come true. You didn’t know it then. But he was. He was everything you would ever want. 
Why would he lie? 
Why would he do that?
You can’t wrap your head around it. What is he getting out of it by telling the truth? By admitting to the paparazzi, to the reporters and the cameramen, that you won’t be there with him. That you will not be joining him. Nothing, certainly. His parents must be furious. His inheritance may be on the rocks. His image might tank. 
So then, why do it at all?
Could it… could it be?
Is it true?
You have loved Taehyung for a long time. Longer than you probably even care to admit. You have always held your head high at events, spoken loudly and without fear, but being with him made you feel safe. Secure. You would hold his hand and know, know that he was holding yours, too. It grounded you. It soothed your worries. 
Does he really love you back?
Taehyung smiles politely and laughs when he needs to at these events, but he doesn’t look the same. Even through the screen you can see those bags under his eyes, that spark that has faded. You hardly recognize him. He looks so lonely, without someone by his side. So distant. 
When you know the dinner has ended, you almost pick up the phone and call him. 
Almost. 
Instead, when the ball rolls around, you ask Victoria if she’s got a spare dress she can lend you.
 Kim Taehyung, for someone you have seen covered in paint splotches, wearing old college hoodies, and fresh out of a restless night’s sleep, cleans up pretty well. For a married man, at least. 
You wonder what the past few days must have been like for him. If they have been as empty as your own. Wonder what it was like, riding alone in a big black van to this hotel ballroom, no one to tease, no one to laugh with, no one to hold. No one to poke him awake if he accidentally fell asleep. No one to make sure he’s okay. 
Taehyung stands right outside of the entrance, waving politely to all of the paparazzi, smiling as the cameras flash, giving them the time of day for a moment before he heads inside and muscles his way through another event without you. 
Or so he thinks. 
You spot him just as he opens his mouth, ready to repeat those same lines all over again.
My wife won’t be joining me tonight. She’s well, though.
And maybe it’s just because you haven’t seen him in nearly a week. Maybe it’s just because he is about to lie to those reporters once more, ready to face whatever consequences come his way. 
Or maybe it’s just because you miss him. Miss him terribly, have been missing him terribly. Being away from him was necessary, but that didn’t make it any less unbearable. Not getting to hold his hand, see his smile, meet his eyes. You and Taehyung may not have always liked each other, but you saw him every day regardless. He became a constant in your life. Not an if, but a when. If everything went to shit, you always knew he would still be there. 
And there he is. 
“Wait! Taehyung!”
Taehyung’s eyes widen as he hears your voice, gaze darting around wildly, mouth parted in surprise. He looks around desperately, scanning the crowd, meeting the eyes of every single person in front of him until he finally looks to the left, sees you rushing up towards him, hiking up the skirt of your dress as your heels tap against the sidewalk. 
And when he spots you, sees you running up to him, his body relaxes, a weight lifted from his shoulders as he beams back at you, relieved and thankful and filled with joy, all at once. And you know, then. 
You know that everything will be okay. 
“Sorry I’m late,” you say sheepishly, cheeks burning as he looks at you, takes in every inch of you, breathes you in and lets you fill him up. 
Taehyung doesn’t respond. You reach out to hold his hand but he grabs your wrist and pulls you in, presses you against his body as he presses his hands against your cheeks, palms burning as they meet your skin, and he kisses you. In front of all these people, he kisses you. 
And goddamnit, you will kiss him back. 
It feels like lightning, like a thunderstorm, like the waves of the ocean are crashing against your heart. It feels like fire, like flames are licking at your veins, sending sparks through your blood. It feels like home. 
You and Taehyung ignore the shouts of reporters, the flashes of cameras, the honks of the cars on the other side of the road. When you part, he presses his forehead against yours and lets the tip of your nose meet his. And you smile. 
“Don’t be alone any longer, Mr. Kim,” you whisper, loud enough so only he can hear. 
“When I’m with you, I never am, Mrs. Kim,” he murmurs back. 
You wonder what those tabloids will be saying about you tomorrow. 
The rest of the night finds the two of you pretty much inseparable. You wrap yourself around his arm and for the first time in a long time, he presses his hand against the small of your back, keeping you close. Like he’d ever lose you again. 
One of your least favorite parts about attending balls used to be the dancing. As a young and eligible bachelorette, you would always have to lock hands with another, let him awkwardly guide you along to the music as you made the worst small talk imaginable, forcing laughter and smiles whenever he said something he thought was particularly funny. 
But, like so many others, things have changed. Things are different now. 
The waltz comes on and you and Taehyung are the first to reach the center of the ballroom floor, letting him rest his hand on your waist as you press yours on top of his shoulder. Let him twirl you around the room as the orchestra plays in the background, a soft, sweet, light little melody that carries you along. 
“I missed this,” you say softly. 
“I missed us,” Taehyung corrects. He pauses for a moment, swallowing hard. “I’m sorry for not telling you about my inheritance.”
“I’m sorry for storming out. I should have listened to you.” you respond easily. You both have plenty to apologize for. But night is darkest right before dawn. 
“I should have said something,” Taehyung says with a shake of his head. “But I was just so—so worried that something would go wrong. And I didn’t know how to explain how I felt about you. I acted in the beginning, too, but then things changed.”
“They always do,” you muse with a grin. 
“I couldn’t believe I had you,” Taehyung admits. “I mean, look at you. You’re gorgeous. And funny. And true.”
“Go on,” you tease, even though you do nothing to hide the smile inching its way across your face, the heating of your cheeks, the simmering of your skin. 
“Oh, shut up. You know what I mean.” Taehyung rolls his eyes. “I just—I felt something for you I couldn’t explain. I still can’t.”
You don’t have to prod any further. You know. Deep within your heart, you know. There is love blossoming in his to match the garden that has bloomed in your own. The flowers that have sprouted in the ashes. He has them, too. And when those petals open and the light streams in, he will know. He will know, too. 
“You make me crazy,” you tell him, whispering gently into his skin. “But I’m a better person when I’m with you. I know I am.”
“I meant what I said, that night,” Taehyung says. Makes you wonder which night he’s actually talking about. “That I’m happy that things have changed. That things happened the way they did. I’m grateful for us.”
“I am, too,” you say. And you are. 
You rest your head against his chest as you dance together, swaying back and forth to the beat of the drums, to the strums of the violins, all wrapped up together like ivy, like vines. Those, too, sit in that garden of yours. Keep you tethered to his side, keep him close to yours. He holds you in his arms and he smiles, because he knows, too. Knows that that garden in your heart will soon have a matching one in his. A mirror image of who you are. Who you’ve become. 
Things change. They always will. But so long as he is by your side, and so long as you are by his, you know. Everything will be okay. 
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It's different, this time, when Taehyung presses you into the mattress. 
There is no rush. Because now you know for certain that all the time in the world is yours. He is yours forever. You are his.
The two of you are a mixture of tangled limbs and shared breaths, the feverish, irrepressible need to give yourself to each other nearly tangible. He breaks the kiss suddenly, and you’re about to break out in protest. That is, until you see him unbuttoning his shirt.
Inspired, you wiggle out of your own clothes, eyes locked on Taehyung's soft torso and the idea that you had married such a beautiful man, inside and out.
Looking back, you wonder if that was always inevitable. If you and Taehyung falling into each other had been written in the stars from day one, sealed as your fate from the moment he came up to you at that ball when you were teenagers. He was going to be a part of your life no matter what. Whether or not you ended up marrying him. But having him like this?
It makes it all worth it.
"Do you like what you see?" That old cocky smirk of his makes an appearance.
You raise a brow, choosing to omit a response as you unclasp your bra, letting it fall from your chest.
Taehyung swallows.
"Do you?" You tease.
His response comes in the form of bites down your necks and licks down your chest, stealing your breath from you. 
Your clothes are somewhere dispelled beside your passionate bodies, growing cold beside the way your two hot bodies warmed one another.
"You are so beautiful," Taehyung praises, fingers coming up to cup your breast, bringing it up to his mouth.
You mewl, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as his tongue toys with your pert bud, teeth grazing it ever so often just to hear the broken gasp that'd always follow. 
"And so sensitive too," he giggles, making you pout. His hands are gentle as if every touch means something. As if you mean something—no, everything—to him. And the most wonderful part is that he means everything to you, too. 
"Shut up." You roll your eyes playfully, gasping as his palm comes down the side of your thigh suddenly in warning. You bite down your swollen bottom lip at the gush of arousal that dampened your underwear in response.
"Watch your tone, love. Of both our positions, you are in the most compromising one." He reminds you. It isn't a threat, and while usually, that kind of tone would thrill you, you couldn't help but want his mouth back on yours already.
"You talk too much." You flop back onto the bed with a sigh. Taehyung watches with interest as your pretty tits bounce in consequence. Extending your hands out towards him, you give him a pouty look. "Just wanna kiss you."
"Is that all I am to you? Just a pair of lips for you to mack on? I've got news for you, sweetheart, there's a brain behind these ravishing good looks." He scoffs in feigned offense, sitting back on his heels.
You giggle.
It seems as though even during the most intimate of moments, Taehyung still found a way to be, well, Taehyung. At least that hasn’t changed. 
"Whatever, pretty boy. Why don't you come over here and put that mouth of yours to good use?" You purr, making his eyebrows raise in surprise.
"Oh? I don't remember you being this assertive when I was pounding you into the mattress last time."
“What, I can’t have a little fun as well?” You tease, grinning as you look up at him, raking your eyes over his figure. 
"Wanna have fun, love?," He murmurs into your ears, hands gripping either of your plush thighs. "Then spread those pretty legs for me, and I'll show you exactly how much fun you can have."
God, you love this man.
You oblige eagerly, breath quickening as he helped you press your knees by your chest, leaving the wet patch in your underwear on full display. 
"My pretty little wife." He sighs dreamily, making heat rush to your core.
Taehyung's cock stood loud and proud, a hot reminder of where the night would eventually lead to. Seriously, how did you get so lucky? You must've been a saint in a previous life, you decide right then. Or at least, the stars have chosen to be rather kind to you in this one.
"Gonna take these off," he mutters, mostly to himself, tugging the ruined fabric over your ass and down your legs, with your help, of course.
Despite your usual display of confidence, lying beneath your husband, spread out like this, has you feeling vulnerable and slightly insecure. But that insecurity vanishes, however, as he lets out a soft moan, fingers moving to spread your glossed lips apart.
"So fucking pretty, baby. Gonna make you feel so fucking good," he groans, leaning down to press his face near your most intimate part.
Pressing a tentatively lick against, his eyes flicker up to yourself, curious to see if you’re okay with him proceeding. And, well, it’s not like you’re going to say no, are you?
Embarrassingly, you rut against him, making him laugh as you drown in your own mortification.
"Need it that bad, huh?" He coos.
"Yes, please."
The rest of your plea is lost in a moan as Taehyung finds your clit, wrapping his pink lips around the sensitive muscle and giving it a generous suck. Your hands are in his hair before you can think to stop yourself, tugging at his scalp deliciously as his mouth makes its way with you.
Thank goodness for this apartment belonging to just the two of you as the noises that tumbled from your lips surely would've left a roommate blushing.
You're panting, begging for more even though you aren't sure how you'd even handle more. It comes as a delight and slight surprise as fingers suddenly slip inside, wasting no time to rub against your velvety smooth walls, curling themselves inside you.
"Fuck, Tae!" you cry out, eyes squeezing shut.
It was pure reflex. Up until now, you had been watching Taehyung intently, completely consumed by the way his mouth moves against you. How his tongue flicks against your needy clit cruelly. It just felt too fucking good.
You're so wet, positively dripping down his chin as he runs his hot muscle up and down the length of your pussy, devouring you like he hadn't eaten in months, and you were his first meal.
Taehyung’s nothing short of addicting, completely and utterly intoxicating, and you slip further and further to your demise with every lick he takes, every press of his tongue against your clit.
He has a hand pressed against the lower half of your torso, feeling the way you jerk and squirm as he makes a mess of you. You’re close and you know it, too, if not by the way you’re calling his name over and over again, then by the way your thighs tremble, hardly even strong enough to stay up.
"Let go for me, love. I've got you." He sounds so sweet, so angelic, despite how filthy what he was doing to you was.
His words are the push you need, and, like a rubber band that has been stretched past its limit, you finally snap, back arching off the bed as you come with a cry. White fills your vision, and your mind goes blank, only sounds of blissful static filling your ears.
His fingers hold up your quivering legs, mouth pressing kisses onto your pussy encouragingly until you simply can't bear it any longer, pushing his mouth away as you stutter out words of sensitivity and overstimulation.
“I’m going to have to request more of that throughout this marriage.” You manage to say once your vision and breath come back to you.
Grabbing one of your hands, Taehyung brings it to his mouth.
“All you need do is ask,” he replies, making you laugh as he presses a kiss to the back of your hand, always a gentleman
Not long after, you find yourself pressed against Taehyung, tongue running against his as he presses his hips into yours. He isn’t coy about his want for you, rolling his cock against your already sensitive center. Warm precum leaks onto your lower abdomen, and suddenly, all you can think about is having him inside you again.
“Taehyung?”
You don’t even need to ask. Hitching your leg around his thigh, he knows exactly what you’re seeking, lining up his leaking cock with your swollen entrance.
Pressing into you, he buries himself to the hilt, groaning out as your warmth envelopes him. You moan out so prettily for him, feeling tight and full with your first orgasm only minutes ago.
“You okay?” he hums, kissing your cheek.
You nod, ears warm at the intimacy of the moment. In many ways, this is nothing like your first time together. You are face to face, eye to eye, heart to heart. Between your bodies could be found more than just desire, but commitment. Devotion. Love. 
“I love you, Tae.” You gush, sighing out as he begins to rock into you.
He falters slightly at your confession but recovers quickly, intertwining his hand with yours and pressing it by your head.
Faintly, you realize. 
That was the first time you had ever told him that.
You look up at him, expecting some wide eyes or even a bit of a nervous tilt to his lips, but all you are met with is a glow. He beams down at you, and your heart swells. 
“I love you, too, Y/N,” he whispers, but you hear the words in your ears loud and clear.
Soft noises fill the room as the two of you become one—hearts synchronizing with one another in silent promise.
It was a promise unlike the one you had made to each other that day at the altar, for this one was real. This one was true.
You shutter with every thrust of his hips, your abused clit finding itself in the crossfire of Taehyung’s passionate motions.
Whimpering, you cling to him, overwhelmed and emotional, like your heart was about to burst. Taehyung lights a fire in you, sends lightning straight through your core. Every word, every smile, every kiss, every touch, they send shivers down your spine, tingles throughout your skin. It’s like you’re falling in love with him all over whenever you see him, whenever his deep brown eyes meet your own.
You remember being so afraid of love that you broke up with all your old boyfriends because of it. Because you couldn’t commit, because you were worried about your career, because they just didn’t give you that spark. But lying here pressed against him, against your husband, you aren’t afraid. Wrapped up around him, tangled up in him, you know. 
Between messy kisses and words of adoration, you find yourself growing closer and closer to your release. Brows furrowed and neck flushed, you come with a soft whimper of his name, coaxing his own orgasm out of him. He lets go inside you, painting you with his seed in a way that pleases you to no end.
Hand still in yours, he gives it a squeeze, pressing a kiss onto your damp chest, right over where your heart beats for him.
“I love you,” Taehyung says again when you meet his eyes, firmer this time, louder. Like he’s worried you didn’t believe him the first time. 
“I know,” you say with a giggle, the words going straight to your head—and your heart. 
Taehyung scowls. “What, no ‘I love you’ back? Is that what I’m hearing?”
“Well, only because you want one so badly,” you tease, pressing a quick kiss to his round button nose. “I love you, too, Tae. Always will.”
“I think I knew, then,” Taehyung says with a fond sigh, nostalgia overcoming his expression. “That first time we met. I knew you would be mine, one day.”
“You got lucky,” you scoff slightly. “But I’m glad things happened the way they did.”
“You’re my dream come true, Y/N,” he says. 
“And you are mine,” you murmur.
As the two of you drift off, all twisted up in each other, so mixed up you can’t figure out where you end and he begins, you think back to that night. That ball. 
“Who are you?” You ask, nose scrunched up in distaste. Before you stood a boy you had never met before, wearing shoes that were too big for him and a suit that was a touch too small. 
He grins at you, running a hand through his perfectly-styled hair fringe swiped neatly over his forehead, and he says, “your dream come true.”
And so it was. 
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don’t forget to message me! ~ and don’t forget to message rose!
6K notes · View notes
jimidol · 5 months ago
Text
valentine’s date | jjk
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⏤ pairing: reporter!jungkook x female reader
⏤ genre: fake dating au, coworkers to lovers, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, angst, fluff, and smut
⏤ rating: M
⏤ warnings: dom!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, long-haired!jungkook, alcohol consumption, a lot of making out, oral sex (m receiving), swearing, some teasing, pet names, praising, a bit of jealousy, hickeys, penetrative sex, protected sex and unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, overstimulation, and multiple orgasms
⏤ words: 12,199
⏤ summary: Every year, on the 13th of February, your family gathers together to celebrate love, it’s your own kind of Valentine’s Day before the actual day. This year is going to be different since, for the first time in years, you’re single but your parents pressured you to find someone otherwise they’ll bring someone for you. Although you love your parents, and you know this comes as a caring act, you don’t trust their tastes. So, you propose to your coworker, Jungkook, to come with you to save you from embarrassment. But nothing goes as planned since both of you have feelings for the other.
⏤ author’s note: so in the end, i managed to post it on the 14th! so it makes me truly happy although i wrote this in like three days. i wish you all a happy valentine’s day! 💜 i hope you’ll like this one-shot, love you all 💜 as always, feedback is most definitely appreciated 💜
⏤ part 2: elevator’s date 
MASTERLIST
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As every day you enter the building of the biggest broadcasting company in the country, Jung Broadcasting Corporation, known as JBC. This is where you have been working for the past five years, and you love what you do. But today is not a normal day for several reasons. Reasons that you just don’t want to think about right now.
You quickly run to the elevator whose doors are about to close. Since you’re in a rush, you don’t pay too much attention to the people inside, only noticing how full it is. The only thing you want is to quickly go to your desk and disappear for the entire day like every day. You just want this day to be a normal one although you feel it’s never going to be a normal day at all.  
Readjusting your glasses, you jump when a very familiar voice in the back of the elevator says your name.  
“Hey, Yn.”
Your heart starts pounding hard in your chest while a big bright smile appears on your face. This deep but cute voice is a voice you could recognize everywhere, even in a very crowded room just like right now. This voice comes from the one and only, Jeon Jungkook. Yes, you read it well, Jeon Jungkook.
Not only is he the most famous sports reporter in the country but he’s also the hottest man of the year. Just a quick look at this elevator is a proof of it. All the women inside it are completely mesmerized by him, and all the men are just jealous that he’s inside this small metallic cabin.
But as he raises his voice to speak to you, everybody raises an eyebrow, wondering who he’s even talking to. As cliché as it might sound, you literally look like a nerd girl coming straight out of a crappy romantic movie. You’re very insecure about yourself, you barely put any makeup on, you wear glasses and you work in the IT department of this huge company. Most people here don’t know who you are because you’re invisible.
Never in five years, you’ve done anything to draw any attention. The less people know about who you truly are, the better it is. You’ve grown up in a world where your last name could open all the doors you want, and it definitely helped to be where you are today. But you don’t want everyone here to know who you are because you know that they’ll speak to you by interest.  
But sometimes, some people notice when you speak to Jungkook. Every single employee of this company knows who he is, and when he’s with a girl, everybody sees it. But somehow, they all just figure it out that you two are just friends. You always thought that maybe it’s because a man like him is supposed to date some kind of model and not a girl like you.  
As you turn your head, your smile grows when you see his handsome face. God, you hate him for being so perfect. How can even a man be this perfect? You only see his face at the end of the elevator, and you’re thankful you don’t have a full view of his body, knowing just perfectly how it would drive you completely crazy. His face is enough although you know he’s going to haunt your entire day.  
“Good morning, Jeon.” You answer before looking away.  
You look away to avoid letting everyone know in this room the huge crush you have on this man. You don’t want him or anyone to know about it because you prefer to live in your own bubble, imagining that maybe a tiny little part of him is interested in you. Although you’re convinced that he doesn’t give two shits about you in a romantic way.
The doors of the elevators open on the fifth floor where you work, making you walk as fast as possible. If you disappear under your workload, nobody will notice you. Jungkook watches you walk away with a bright smile on his face. Nothing bad can happen now that he saw you.  
“Today, Jin is coming.” Your coworker, Ha-neul says with excitement.
This is what you’re avoiding today, and one of the reasons why today is going to be different. Jin is non-other than your brother but also a very famous actor that is coming today to your workplace to sign a contract with JBC for a new drama.
From what he told you, he’s going to play the main character in a historical drama. Of course, he didn’t give you more details because he just can’t but the fact that it’s a historical drama makes you want to know more about it.
“I know.” You reply, sitting down on your chair while your computer starts.
Being his sister is one of the things you hide from everyone. Why? Because everyone would suddenly notice you and would want to speak with you just to get somehow closer to him. You don’t want that. You want people to look at you because they’re interested in you.
“That man is just so handsome!” She says, imagining his sweet face.
He’s your brother so you just don’t find him attractive at all. Annoying, for sure but not handsome.  
“We most probably won’t see him.” You add.
You’re sure of that, you’re working in the IT department, a place where an actor would never come. Jin promised you yesterday that he wasn’t going to visit you because he just knows how uncomfortable it would make you feel. Your big brother grew up, watching you blossom in a totally different way than everyone in your family. You’re shy, extremely shy and he respects that although he really wants to show the world how smart you are.
“I know, I was just hoping that in a way, we’d see him.”
As you look up at one of the screens that broadcast the show of Jungkook, you feel completely hypnotized by him. A year ago, you would have never imagined that you’d be single by now and have a huge crush on Jungkook, the coworker that you always saw as a simple friend.
But today everything has changed. Taehwan broke up with you almost a year ago, just a week after Valentine’s Day. That was devastating but you had to turn the page. You simply couldn’t live a life crying over a man that just didn’t care about you anymore. The three years spent with him were amazing but you needed to move on from it. It was easier said than done but eventually, the heartbreak faded away.
Today, just a couple of days prior to Valentine's Day, you’re completely single, something that your parents don’t really seem to accept. They loved Taehwan but your mother insulted him of all the possible names when he broke up with you. All they want now is your happiness and they have seen how miserable you have felt for the past year. So, to help you to find your happiness again, they pressured you to find someone for the annual 13th of February family gathering otherwise they’ll find someone for you.
You desperately need to find someone because you don’t really trust your parents’ tastes. They’ll probably invite the son of their neighbor, Taehyung but you don’t want to be with someone whose name sounds just like your ex’s name. You’re sure that he’s a good boy but you’ll just think about his name.
You growl with frustration before focusing on your work.
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Although you consider that Jungkook doesn’t like you, the truth is that he has a massive crush on you. The man only thinks about you all day long.
Unlike what everyone thinks, Jungkook is not interested in models and other kinds of superficial women. That definitely is not his type. He values more than just the appearance of someone because a woman can be interesting in so many ways. And with you, he talks a lot, making him learn tons of things about you in the past five years.
What he loves is to join you at lunch breaks to hear you talk about what you did the previous day or what you thought about the show he presented the day before. It’s always feedback that he appreciates and that he takes into consideration for the next shows. Sometimes, he feels that he owns a huge part of his success to you because without your honest feedbacks, he wouldn’t have evolved this much.  
“This is Yn, how can I help you?”
Jungkook smiles as he hears your voice, he has been waiting for this moment since the second he saw you entering the elevator in a rush this morning, finding you extremely cute as you were walking fast.
Five years ago, when you were both starting in the company, every time he’d call the IT department, it was always you that would answer him and help him with his IT issues. But now that you’ve both grown inside this huge company, he knows your number by heart and calls it every time he faces an issue, or at least a ‘supposed’ one.  
“Hi, Yn.” He replies. “It’s Jungkook.”
He didn’t need to introduce himself, you already knew it was him. Just like him, you know now his number by heart. Every time it appears on your desk phone’s screen, you smile like an idiot because it makes you truly happy that he chooses you over all the people in the IT department.
The sports reporter knows how lucky he is that he can deal with you when he has an issue. The structure of the company allows him to contact you because you were assigned with the VIP Team, a team that Jungkook is part of since he’s very important in the company. Only a few people of the IT department are assigned to the VIP Team, something that you’re really proud of because you managed by yourself to be assigned to those persons.
It’s not easy every day because some of those important persons are always mean but Jungkook is far from being like that. Seeing his number always warms your little heart because you know that with him, you’ll laugh.
“I know it’s you, Jeon.” You reply.
The simple fact that you admit knowing his number makes his heart swell with happiness.
“Tell me what’s your issue today.”
He takes his time to explain what’s the matter today with his computer, a problem that you easily solve. You always solve his problem quite quickly but you both start talking about some other random things.
“Every girl in the office is fangirling over Jin today, completely ignoring me.” You giggle when he mentions the fact that nobody is paying attention to him today.
“It’s temporary, Jin is just here for today.” You reply. “Tomorrow, everything will be back to normal.”
You desperately want things to go back to normal, you’re just tired of hearing your coworkers talking about your brother. To you, he’s just a regular guy but it seems that everyone in this office finds him extremely handsome, but you’re the first one to admit how talented he is as an actor. You’ve been his first fan and supporter since he has dreamed of becoming an actor.
“I hope so!” He says with a big smile on his face. “I don’t like sharing my fans with someone else.”
You know he’s joking, he doesn’t like to brag about his “hottest man of the year” award because it makes him uncomfortable. It doesn’t seem like it but Jungkook can be very shy, extremely shy even though you’re convinced that he’s not shy at all. The man seems to breathe confidence all the time.
“You should let him know that.” You tease him a little.
“He’ll just tell me to go fuck myself.” He giggles while he quickly looks around, noticing that it’s almost time for him to present his daily sports show but he doesn’t want to leave you.
You desperately want to defend your brother but Jungkook doesn’t know, so you just don’t do it. Maybe one day, you’ll find the courage to tell him the truth and to let him know who you truly are. But it’s probably not going to be anytime soon.
“Maybe not.” You reply. “Maybe he’s a nice person, and he’ll just accept the fact that you don’t want to share your fans.”
Jungkook can’t help but smile even more. He loves that side of you, the side that just sees the good in everyone and everything. That side of you has given him so much hope, making him see also the positive side of life when it gets too hard.
“I have to go, Yn but thanks for your help and time.”
“Don’t worry, Jeon. It’s my job.” You say. “Good luck with your show.”
With your good wishes, he knows everything is going to be fine.
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When you leave your desk and walk to the elevator to go to the restaurant of the building for your lunch break, you find Jungkook waiting for you in front of the elevator. That’s where you both meet before going to the restaurant together. Once there, you usually join Jimin and Yoongi, two other colleagues with whom you get along very well.
You don’t have many friends due to the fact that you’re extremely shy but the few friends you have are literally the best persons on earth. Nothing would ever make sense in your life without them. You simply can’t imagine having your lunch break without those three crackheads.
“I’ve been waiting here for an eternity.” He says with a grin on his face. “I had the time to die and come back to life.”
You laugh, shaking your head. That man is always exaggerating as if he doesn’t know any limits.  
“So now JBC's hottest sports reporter is some kind of phoenix?” You say, raising an eyebrow before bowing to him.
“You’re so slow, Yn.” He bows back to you before pressing the button to call the elevator. “Next time, I’ll let you go by yourself to the restaurant.”
You roll your eyes, knowing perfectly that he’ll come every day. He keeps repeating that every time you take a bit more time than usual but he always waits for you, a fact that warms your fragile little heart. You deeply cherish everything he does for you.  
“Next time, I’ll make sure to take even more time.” You say, making him chuckle at your words. What he likes about you is that you’re not scared to tease him back. He doesn’t do it with a lot of people because he’s not sure how they’ll react but with you, he knows that you won’t hold back.
The elevator arrives, the both of you entering the small cabin. This time around it’s empty, there’s just you and Jungkook inside of it. Weirdly enough, you don’t feel awkward or embarrassed to be just with him. Your phone rings, letting you know that you’ve received a message. You take it from your bag before taking a quick look at it.
Jungkook glances down at you, smiling as he notices your reaction. You scrunch your nose as you sigh before quickly playing with the end of your hair. Without an ounce of hesitation, he’d say that you’re most probably exasperated with what you just saw. You always do it when something bothers you.
In fact, you’ve received several messages from your mother. She sent you pictures of the famous Taehyung, most probably pictures that she asked her friend because she wants to show you how handsome the man is. The pictures are followed by a little description of what he does in life, it seems that he’s working as a saxophonist in the orchestra of Seoul. That’s very prestigious, not everyone can enter that orchestra, only the best of the best can make it.
For a mere moment, you take the time to look at the pictures. For sure the little glasses give him a certain charm but he looks too serious. He isn’t ugly at all but you’re stuck with the Tae, reminding you once again of your ex. It’s not his fault at all but everything would have been better if his name didn’t start with Tae.
Plus, you have a man that is a million times hotter than him just next to you. At least that’s your opinion. But it just makes you laugh how your mother is trying hard to put you with her neighbor’s son. You know it comes with a very good intention, she just wants you to be happy. Although, you’re not sure that this Taehyung can make you happy.
“My mother is terrible.” You roll your eyes for the millionth time today.
“I guess that’s how mothers are.” Jungkook replies. You gaze up at him, biting the inside of your cheek as you take in how beautiful he is.
“My mother is extra terrible.” You add before taking a deep breath to explain to him what is going on. “Every year, my parents organize a Valentine’s Day with all the family on the 13th and basically, we have to bring someone with us. For the past couple of years, I was with Taehwan so he was coming with me but this year, I don’t have anyone.”
You look away, not wanting to stare into his eyes as you admit that you’re completely alone. But as you look in front of you, you just realize that maybe Jungkook can be the one to save you from the embarrassment of having to spend the whole day with Taehyung. Things are for sure going to be awkward with him because you both don’t know each other, and you’ll have to discover him through a very embarrassing dinner with your family.  
“So, if I don’t find anyone, they’ll invite their friends’ son.” You look at the pictures on your phone before shoving it on his face. “That’s him.”  
Jungkook is surprised but glad that you show it to him. His hands rest over yours while he looks at the man in the pictures. He’d be lying if he said that Taehyung is ugly, making him feel kind of jealous. What if you end up liking him?
The elevator’s doors open, announcing that it’s your way out. You walk with Jungkook, your fingers playing together as you wonder how you can even ask him anything.  
“I don’t want my parents to bring someone that I don’t know and that would make me feel deeply uncomfortable.” You start saying, halting in an empty hallway. Jungkook looks down at you, understanding that this has taken a serious and deep turn. “Would you accept to go with me?” You don’t even let him say anything that you’re already explaining why. “We are friends and I trust you a lot,” you’d entrust your life to him without any hesitation, “plus, my parents will leave me alone if I bring someone…”
Jungkook smiles while shaking his head. Even if you hadn’t asked him, he would have probably ended up proposing to save you from your crazy parents. His chest swells with happiness because he feels like a superhero.
“You don’t have to give me any explanations, Yn.” His hand goes to your shoulder before moving down to your arm, caressing it in a comforting way. “I’d love to go with you.”
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Today is finally the 13th of February.
Jungkook should be coming at any minute to drive you both to your parents’ house. For the past three days, you’ve been trying to tell him who your father and brother are. But it has been very difficult, you never knew how to explain that he’ll be sitting in front of the man that stole his fans when he came to the JBC building.  
You take one last look at your figure, checking the blue dress you put on. This dress is the one you bought last year in hopes to wear it this year and impress Taehwan but unfortunately, you won’t impress him this year. For the past three days, you were overthinking if you should still wear the dress, only to make you realize that this day is about celebrating yourself first. So, you decided to wear it no matter what. But you secretly hope that Jungkook will love it.
For the makeup, you decided to go with something very simple, just some foundation and mascara. That’s already a lot for you, you always preferred to not wear any makeup but for special occasions, you love to get pretty. Since your eyes can’t bear contact lenses, you have to put on your glasses otherwise you don’t see anything.
When you announced two days ago to your mother that you were coming with someone, she was a bit disappointed because she really wanted to introduce Taehyung to you. She’s truly convinced that he’s the man for you. So, in the middle of a panic situation, you just told her that you’ve been dating Jungkook for a little while but since it was still the beginning of your relationship, you hide it.
The moment you hang up, you hated yourself for not being able to say the truth to your mother but weirdly enough, Jungkook just agreed to pretend to be with you as if it was totally normal. What you ignored was that he was more than happy to pretend to be your boyfriend and to have an excuse to touch you just the way he has been craving for a couple of months.
Somebody knocks at your door, you’d say that it’s Jungkook since it is already 7 pm. The dinner is supposed to start around 8 pm but your parents asked you to be there around 7.30 pm. Your mother desperately wants to start dinner at 8, so everyone has to arrive at least thirty minutes before.
As you open the door of your apartment, you’re graced with a Jungkook wearing a long black coat that prevents you from seeing what he’s wearing under it although you can see the end of his black skinny jeans with the black classic boots. He’s all handsome. You feel blessed to see him like this but you definitely can’t wait to see his outfit under his long coat.
Jungkook is completely blown away by your beauty. That cute blue dress embraces your body perfectly, revealing your insanely perfect curves to him. Just with this view, he knows it’s going to be hard for him to hide how attracted he is to you.  
“Hey, Jeon.” You say with a bright smile on your face.
His eyes ride up to meet yours. “Hey, Yn.” He says swallowing hard. “You look really pretty.”
Jungkook can count the moments a woman left him speechless, but this right here surpasses everything. He just doesn’t know what to say or what to even think other than you’re fucking sexy and hot. He feels more than lucky to be able to spend the night with you in this blue sexy dress.
“I just need to put on my coat and scarf, and to take my purse.” You inform him before letting him in inside your apartment.
The man from Busan is surprised to see how huge your apartment is, he was expecting something much smaller since you’re not a woman of excess. But he ignores that your mother bought this apartment for you when you decided to leave your parents’ house because she wanted you to still have a very comfortable place to live.
It is too big for you but this makes you think of your mother. This apartment is just a proof of all the love she has for you. A caring love that helps you to sleep at night when you miss her dearly.
Nevertheless, your apartment is decorated just the way he envisioned it. It’s mostly white with just the necessary things to live. Everything is perfectly organized, nothing is out of its place. This apartment is just a material image of who you are, Jungkook sees it which makes him smile.  
Barely a minute later, you appear with your coat, shoes on, and bag in your hand, ready to leave your place to join your family. Your heart is hammering harshly in your chest as you realize that you’re going to pretend to be dating your crush. This is going to be a very intense night, you know it.
“Let’s go!” You tell him with still a smile on your face.
He nods before you both leave your place and walk to his car parked not too far from the building where you live. Unconsciously his right-hand goes to your lower back while you both walk, holding you close and warm against his body.  
“So, just to be sure we have the same version.” Jungkook starts saying, glancing straight in front of him. “We’re working in the same company, JBC, we’ve been friends since we both started there and two months ago, we realized we had feelings for each other and started dating.”
That’s a very simplified version of what you both decided to tell your family. Basically, everything is based on your real relationship, everything will be easier if you keep some truth, but a small part will change. Two months ago, Jungkook wanted to thank you properly for all the help you’ve given him for the past five years and he invited you to go out. That night, you both realized that there was more than friendship between the two of you which led to you trying to date. Apparently, it seems to be working since you’re still together.
“Yes, that’s it.”
Even though it’s a lie, Jungkook knows that he won’t have any problem pretending that he loves you. The feelings are already there, he just needs to finally let them out which makes him kind of nervous because he’s scared that you’ll realize that he truly loves you more than a friend. He’s convinced that it’s not a mutual feeling, that you just don’t like him the way he does. It’d be hard for him.
“Let’s just hope my parents don’t start asking too many questions.” You say.
You know you’re a terrible liar, you won’t be able to invent something more than what you have already elaborated with him. You know that if your parents start asking too many questions, your true feelings for Jungkook will just bloom out, something you don’t want your friend to discover.  
He stops walking in front of his Mercedes GLC. It’s not the first time you see his car but damn, every time you’re impressed by it. You’ve seen much more expensive cars but this car is a hell of a pretty car. Jungkook loves to look that wonder in your eyes, it just makes him realize how life can be precious.
“Always so in love with my car.” He says.
“How can I not love this car?” You reply. “Have you just seen it?” Your eyes look up, locking with his.
“I see it every day, Yn.” He winks at you before opening the passenger door for you, letting you get inside. Your eyes can’t stop looking at it with marvel, it’s like you’re a kid receiving a Christmas gift two months later. The car is even prettier inside.
This is your first time inside his car, and his strong scent completely fills it. It almost feels like you’re hugging Jungkook, his scent being the only thing your nose seems to smell. But it also feels like you’ve invaded his personal space, like you’ve come into Jungkook’s life, and you’re for sure not going to complain about it.
Seconds later, he enters the car and starts driving to your place. As you give him the address, he instantly knows that it’s where the wealthiest people of Korea live. It makes him a bit more nervous because it means that your parents are not just some random Koreans.
During the drive, you both sing along to all the songs, making you giggle when one of you starts singing off key. Jungkook purposely keeps singing off key just to hear you giggle, nothing makes him feel happier than your giggles filling his ears.
After the ten minutes ride, you arrive in front of your parents’ house, Jungkook completely impressed by the huge house. Now, he’s a hundred percent sure that you’re the daughter of someone very important but he doesn’t get why you have never told him anything. He knows you’re very secretive about your private life but you can trust him.
“I just sent a message to my brother to open the portal.” You inform him.
Jungkook only nods, still very confused about the situation. He’s a bit nervous because he knows he’ll be dining with important persons, he just doesn't know who yet. He tries to stay calm, driving the car inside when the portal opens. While you get closer to the house, he feels like it’s even bigger. This is massive.
When he comes closer to the property, your parents appear on the porch. Your mother is smiling widely, more than happy to finally see her daughter again while your father stays there only looking at the car coming closer. Jungkook’s heart almost drops when he sees your father.  
“Your father is Kim Seokwoo?” He stops the car, his eyes looking at you.
You bite your lower lip, your eyes avoiding him at all costs. “I’ve been trying to tell you that for the past days but I was just scared of your reaction.”
Jungkook’s hand rests on yours, trying to reassure you in any way. “You don’t have to be scared with me.” Your eyes finally meet his, only seeing some form of love. “And I admire your father and brother.”
Your father, Kim Seokwoo is the biggest producer in the country, winning tons of awards for all the dramas and movies he produced. All actors dream to work with him because once they work for him, they become a huge name in the industry. Your brother, Seokjin, who goes by simply Jin, has never worked for him because he doesn’t want his career and success to be associated with his father. He has been working hard to make a name for himself, he just doesn’t want people to think that he owes everything to his father. That’s why he’s just known as Jin and not Kim Seokjin.
That’s what you hide from everyone, nobody knows who they are for you. If anybody in the company finds out that you’re Kim Seokwoo’s daughter, they’ll just speak to you just to get to him. His name is huge, and you could have used it to open all the doors you desired but that’s not who you are. Your father taught you to fight hard for what you wish, and he’s more than proud to have raised two amazing persons.
“Now, let’s go before they start wondering why we don’t leave the car.” Jungkooks says as he opens the door.
You mumble a thank you while you squeeze his hand, more than thankful that he didn’t start fangirling over your father and brother. Jungkook only nods before you both leave the car, walking towards your parents. Your father smiles when he sees you, and your mother is more than surprised when she sees Jungkook.
Like everyone, she perfectly knows who the hell Jungkook is. The hottest man of the year along with the best sports reporter of JBC. She for sure wasn’t expecting you to bring him or to even know him.
“Jeon Jungkook.” Your mother says. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person.” She reaches out her hand to him when he approaches her. “I’ve heard so many amazing things about you and your work.”
You hug your father, happy to finally see him. You’re a family person, always wanting to be around your parents and brother but that only happens on the weekend because you work during the week. Of course, you call them every day after work to at least hear their voices once a day but everything is so much better when you’re around them.
“You could have informed us that he’s your valentine.” Your father whispers in your ear. “Your mother would have directly stopped with Taehyung.”
You step back a bit, looking at the man you love the most on earth. “You know how I am when it comes to my love life.”
Even with your family, you don’t speak much about your love life. It’s something you’re not comfortable with. If it was possible, you wouldn’t speak about it to anyone but it’s nearly impossible with your mother who's always trying to put you with some of her friends’ sons.
You go to your mother that is trying as hard as possible to hide her emotions but it’s crystal clear that she’s a tiny bit mad at you for not telling her that you’re dating Jungkook. But she can understand it because she knows you too well. After all, she birthed you, so she perfectly knows how you always try to hide everything from everyone.
“We’re going to have a very serious conversation, young lady.” She berates you with a small smile.
“Mom, don’t be awkward.” You roll your eyes. “I don’t want you to traumatize Jungkook when he has only arrived now.”
Your mother sighs before you all enter inside since it’s extremely cold outside. Jungkook is smiling while shaking his head, realizing that you’re truly yourself with him. That makes his heart flutter.  
When you’re all inside the house, he takes in how beautiful the house is. The entrance hall is super huge like the houses you see in movies. Everything is perfectly organized and cleaned just like in your apartment but this is just another level. Jungkook feels like he’s in a dream.
He can understand that you don’t want people to know who your family is but he would have loved to know minutes ago that he was going to have dinner with Kim Seokwoo and Jin. Especially, that he’d be in a fucking dreamy house.
“You grew up here?” He whispers in your ear.
“Only a part of my life.” You look up at him with a smile on your face. “We used to live in a much smaller house until I was twelve. My dad was becoming too well-known, it was not safe for any of us to live in a normal house in a normal neighborhood. So, we moved here where it’s much safer, the house has guards, and even the neighborhood is controlled.”
This is the only way to ensure the safety of all the people living here and to ensure your family’s safety. When your father became too famous, he wanted to try to keep living the same simple life he used to have but it was impossible, especially when the fans find out where he was living.
That was scary to go home and see all those people around your safe place. While your parents were looking for a new safer place to live, you and Jin were living with your grandparents but you also changed schools because the other kids were always annoying you and your brother. In less than a week, your parents found a new place, this house and since then, everything has been better.
“This is something else.” He says.
Jungkook lives in a very controlled building because his success has been growing a lot lately. But this house seems to be coming straight from a movie.
“I know.” You don’t stop looking at him, now he’s the one looking like a kid, and you can’t help but find him extremely adorable. His hand grabs yours, holding it tight while you all walk to the living room. You smile like an idiot, loving the fact he unconsciously holds your hand.
“You have a wonderful house, Mr. Kim.” Jungkook says to your father.
Your father looks back at the two of you. “You don’t have to call me Mr. Kim, Seokwoo is enough.” He informs your fake boyfriend. “You’re part of the family now, Jungkook, no need for formalities.”
Your father never loved to be called Mr. Kim outside work, especially by people that date his children. Just as he informed Jungkook now, he did the same with Taehwan and with Soomin, Jin’s girlfriend.
As you enter the huge living room, you notice Jin with his longtime girlfriend. They’ve been together for almost seven years but no marriage seems to be in sight which despairs your mother. She wants to organize a dreamy wedding for her firstborn and she wants him to have children with his lover. She always keeps repeating that at his age, she was already married and a mother but Jin just doesn’t listen to her because he doesn’t feel ready yet to get married.
“This is my older brother, Jin, and his girlfriend, Soomin.” You introduce them to Jungkook. “And that’s my boyfriend, Jungkook.”
It feels incredibly weird to say that but this is all just pretending. In some days, you’ll just announce to them that it’s over with Jungkook and you’ll be back to dreaming about being with him. He’ll just be your crush all over again.
You all take a seat on the couch, Jungkook sitting down next to you and placing his hand over your exposed leg. As time passes, he realizes that this night will most probably end with him confessing his feelings to you. This entire fake situation makes him feel way too comfortable.
Quickly, your father brings an old whiskey that he had in the cellar in the basement. Of course, he gives a glass to everyone to taste his amazing whiskey. Your father has weird collections of wines, whiskeys, and other types of alcohol. The good thing is that when you want to get drunk, you just have to go to the basement and choose whatever you want. That’s what happened when Taehwan broke up with you, your father’s basement became your best friend.
At 8 pm precisely, you all go to the dining room, eating what your parents’ chef prepared for tonight. During the entire dinner, Jungkook keeps being touchy, your heart squeezing with pain every time you realize that he does it to fool your family. In a way, you’d love that every gesture and attention was real but what you ignore is that everything is real. Your ‘fake’ boyfriend is not doing it to fool your family, he’s doing it because he wants to. He wants to enjoy the fact that he can do it without it being weird.
Your parents also explain to Jungkook where this tradition of the 13th comes from. It all started when you were very young. Your parents didn’t want the 14th to be just about romantic love, they wanted to celebrate all sorts of love. They simply wanted to include their children during Valentine’s Day. So, they decided that from now on the 13th would be about celebrating all kinds of love.
Jungkook can’t help but find the gesture absolutely adorable, and even if nothing happens between you two, he’ll make sure that from now on, he’ll celebrate all types of love on the 13th.
The night goes perfectly well, your parents adore Jungkook and they absolutely approve of him which breaks your heart because sooner or later you’ll have to announce to them that this was just a masquerade.
During the entire night, you all drank too much alcohol and after a long discussion, you agreed to sleep here. It’s definitely not a good idea to drive with a lot of alcohol in your system. Jungkook will borrow some clothes from Jin since he doesn’t have anything to wear tomorrow but the stressful part is that he’s going to sleep with you in your old bedroom. You simply can’t ask your parents if he can sleep in a guest room because it’ll raise too much suspicion.
“Your bed is not really big.” Jungkook says when he steps inside your room.
“It was the bed of a single twenty-year-old girl.” You inform him. “I didn’t need a huge bed for myself.”
Jungkook looks around, admiring where you’ve spent a part of your life. Your room is simple but still beautiful, just like you. It doesn’t seem at all that a teenager lived here, it almost looks like you only left two days ago and not some years ago.
“I have a bathroom just there in case you want to undress yourself.” You show him the bathroom.
Jungkook shakes his head because he actually doesn’t mind at all undressing in front of you, this being most probably due to all the alcohol he drank earlier.
“No, it’s okay. You can use it if you want.”
You also shake your head, also being comfortable with undressing in front of your crush. Jungkook is for sure not going to complain to see you in underwear. But although you have drunk a lot, you’re still a bit shy so you turn your back on him and quickly change yourself, putting on your black nightie. You don’t have many clothes left here but you left some sexy pajamas since most of the time, Taehwan was staying with you and it was a reason to tease him a little.
When you turn your back to face Jungkook, the first you see is his insanely perfect body.  He’s on the other side of the bed, so your bed hides his legs but his torso is so damn toned. It’s like he is hand-carved by God himself. You never imagined that Jungkook was hiding such a perfect body under his clothes. You bite your lower lip, your eyes slowly going up to lock with his.
Jungkook is also biting his bottom lip as he glares at you. That nightie barely covers your body. Your cleavage is on full display, revealing the beginning of your breasts but he’s craving to see your legs, more especially if the nightie covers your ass. He’s obsessed with asses.
“Let’s get to sleep.” Jungkook says before you both lay down on your bed. The bed is extremely small for the two of you. That wasn’t the case when you were sleeping here with your ex. Now, with your crush sleeping just next to you, you feel like you’re about to die because he’s way too close to you. You’re looking at the ceiling to avoid looking at the man next to you.
After a little while, you move on the bed, turning your back to him. As Jungkook loves to sleep in the same position that you’re right in now, he also moves his chest pressed against your back. His breathing brushes against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You try to not focus on the fact that your bodies are too close, trying to fall asleep as fast as possible. The sooner you fall asleep, the better it is.  
But of course, your brother needed to start fucking Soomin right when you were about to fall asleep.
Your brother’s bedroom is not too far from yours but Soomin moans like a crazy girl, almost as she’s being tortured or something like that. The creaking bed, Soomin’s moans, and Jin’s low groan are just too much for you.
“Fuck.” You growl as you cover your ears. You hate hearing them fucking, it’s just disgusting.
The fucking session is also too much for Jungkook, his mind keeps imagining that the moans of Soomin are yours as he fucks you. The whole situation is driving him completely crazy, and you feel it. His member is getting hard, his tip touching your uncovered ass. A sudden heat takes over you, making you get wetter as you imagine your crush completely turned on by the fucking session of your brother.
You don’t really know what to do. Do you pretend you don’t feel anything? No, it’s impossible. He must feel that he’s touching your ass. Then, what do you do?
“Sorry.” Jungkook mumbles as he tries to step back a bit, embarrassed that he got turned on by your brother and his girlfriend.
“It’s okay, Jungkook.” You whisper. “My brother can’t keep his cock in his pants.” You add. “I already told him that I hate when he fucks his girlfriend here.”
Jin doesn’t just care about what you think or say but never have you done anything with Taehwan in your parents’ house. It’s just gross, plus none of you wanted your family to hear you having sex.
“It’s a natural thing.” Jungkook says, defending your brother.
“Yeah, but he purposely does it when we’re here because he knows how much I hate it.” You reply, never turning to face him. You’re beyond embarrassed about all this.
Just as Jungkook, the entire situation is turning you on in a way you never expected it. Your panties are completely soaked with your arousal but there’s nothing you can do right now to make it go away.
Jungkook chuckles because he just knows how siblings can be a pain in the ass when they want. His brother also turns his life miserable from time to time, teasing him about his crush on you when they see each other.
“If you want, I can help you with your boner.” You tell him. His cheeks turn red as he was not expecting you to offer him some help but you’ve drunk too much tonight, so you don’t properly filter your thoughts.
“No, it’s okay, Yn.” He replies. “It’s going to go away.”
Now, it’s your turn to chuckle at his words.
“We both know it’s not true.” You tell him, still chuckling. “Plus, I’m also turned on so we could use each other's help.”
The fact that you don’t even filter your words surprises Jungkook because he knows that normally, you’d never say those things.
“Yn, do you even think what you’re saying?” He asks with a trembling voice.
“Of course, I do.”
You finally turn to face him. You want to look him in the eyes as you’re about to confess the feelings you have for him. Now is the moment. You feel it. You’ve been avoiding this for months because you’ve been too scared of rejection.
“Jungkook, I thought it was pretty obvious that I like you.” You cup his face in your hands, locking your eyes with his. “I’ve been having a massive crush on you for a little while but I never came around to tell you anything because I was so scared that you’d simply tell me that the feelings aren’t mutual.” You take a deep breath, your thumbs caressing his cheeks. “Because I’m not the dreamy type of girlfriend.”
Without thinking, Jungkook’s face leans closer to yours, his lips pressing against yours. This right here, he has dreamed of it too many times but never in his dreams, he saw you confess your feelings for him. This is for sure bold coming from you but he loves it. He loves the fact that you blurt out your feelings for him because he knows that he would have never had the courage to take the first step.          
Kissing Jungkook is not at all how you imagined it.
It’s so much more than you pictured it. The kiss is sweet and tender, there’s no rush or anything else in it. You both have been desiring this for so long that there’s no need in rushing things. In fact, you’re actually convinced that if you rush it, it would destroy the magic behind this exact moment.
His lips are so soft on yours, the tenderness of the kiss making your heart melt completely. Never a man has kissed you like that as if you’re made of glass. Your heart is pounding extremely hard on your chest, ready to burst at any moment while the butterflies on your lower stomach are making you feel completely alive.
His hard length brushes against your leg, making you moan in the kiss. By the looks of it, this kiss is for sure going to take a heated turning. A turning that both of you want. All this holding back has been just too much and has let to this exact moment. Holding back for almost a year was not easy which has led you to become extremely needy, and tonight is the moment that you’re going to let go of it.
Tonight, there are no more reasons to hold back.
His impatient hands run up and down your waist, making you more than happy to have his large tattooed hands on your body.  
“I fucking love you too, Yn.” He whispers as he breaks the kiss. “I’ve been having a crush on you since you’ve been single.” He kisses you again but this time with passion and fervor. “It’s almost like I only realized how fucking pretty you are when Taehwan left you.”
Jungkook presses a peck on your lips before he’s kissing the corner of your lips down to the underside of your jaw, causing you to moan each time his lips touch your skin. The alcohol mixed with his confession and how needy you are is driving you completely euphoric.
“I stopped counting the times I dreamed of kissing you in a deserted hallway of the JBC building.” He drops his head to your neck, kissing the base of your throat. “And leaving you hickeys here and there to let everyone know that you’re mine, and only mine.”
You moan as he starts nipping at your skin, the feeling of his mouth on your throat is divine. Everything he does exceeds all the dreams you had. Your hands run through his hair, tugging at the roots. A moan escapes his pretty lips, his voice vibrating against your skin. When he starts sucking your sensitive skin, he licks it with his tongue, a proud smile dancing on his lips.
“I feel like a horny teenager around you, Yn.” He admits as he looks up at you. “Craving you in every fucking way.” His large hands caress your waist while you both look intensely at the other.
“Then let me help you with your boner.” He nods, letting you uncover both your bodies from the bedsheets.
Jungkook lays on his back while you go down on his body. You’re actually very surprised by his erection, it’s huge which makes you want to desperately rip his underwear off to have a proper view of his cock. Without an ounce of hesitation, you take out the only clothing piece from his body, his cock slapping against his abs.
He’s big. Very big. His cock easily surpasses Taehwan’s cock, and god, you always thought your ex had the biggest cock in the world. Jungkook is proving you wrong.
“God, you’re massive.” You look up at him. “How have been hiding this monster in your pants?” You cock an eyebrow, making him giggle at your words.
“I ask myself this question every day.” He says, clearly making you understand that he gets pretty hard around you every day.
As you’re so desperate in pleasing him, you wrap your hand around the base of his dick. His head is red, precum running down his length and over that prominent vein that lines it. You rub your thumb over the tip before going down on his shaft, spreading his arousal all over him. A deep moan leaves his lips as your hands finally touch him, his head falling completely on the pillow.      
“Oh, fuck.” He growls.
Slowly, you start pumping him, taking your time, your hand gliding up and down his length. A trail of groans leaves his lips while you pump him nice and slow, giving him a dreamy handjob. Every time your hand reaches the base, Jungkook shivers, loving deeply how you’re helping to make this boner disappear.
But you want to give him more. You know your hand is just not enough, he needs more to come undone. So you dip down to kiss the head of his cock, his eyes opening directly as this surprises him a lot. You lick his tip, his precum coating your wet muscle before you wrap your mouth entirely around his cock, sinking down fully on his length.
“Fuck, Yn.” He groans, loving the warmth of your mouth around him. He swears that he’s about to fall apart, covering your mouth with his cum.
Your eyes look up to meet with his. The moment they lock, both your eyes completely filled with lust, he looks away, too scared to bust right there. As much as he’d love to fill your pretty mouth with his seed, he wants it to be inside you. He wants that the first time that he comes with you to be inside your pussy.
“Baby.” He says while his hand goes to your hair, grabbing it before pulling your head a little. “I don’t want to come right now.”
Your lips leave his length, letting it slap again against his lower abdomen. You crawl up his body, kissing him again languidly. Jungkook can taste his salty precum on your lips and he loves it.
“Do you have a condom?” You whisper on his lips.
“Always.” He replies.
While he stands up to grab his wallet, you lay on your back, taking off your nightie and underwear to reveal your body to the man of your dreams. Who knew that all you needed to confess your feelings to him was to invite him to the annual 13th of February gathering? If you only knew that sooner, you’d have invited him months ago.  
When Jungkook gets back on the bed with his condom in his hand, he bites his bottom lip. “You’re fucking beautiful, princess.” He growls, scanning every part of your body. He wants to spend the night dreaming about your insanely perfect body. All he wants is to be haunted every single night by your body.
The man doesn’t waste any time ripping the plastic, putting the condom on his length. You spread your legs, letting him see your soaked folds. All he craves now is to have you moaning under him. On his knees, he gets closer to your body, brushing his cock against your pussy, and getting you even wetter. He wants you to be as wet as possible to be ready for his massive cock.
“Can I?” He asks, wanting to be sure that you’re ready for what’s coming.  
When you nod, he slowly buries his thick cock inside your soaked core, stretching your velvety walls. His large hands find their way to your waist, caressing your soft skin while his doe eyes filled with lust look into yours. Both of you groan as he slowly pushes his long and thick cock inside you.  
“So good.” You mumble as your eyes roll back.
You have to admit that it hurts a bit since he’s pretty huge but the fact that he’s slowly filling you up to the brim helps. It gives time to your body to get used to this massive intrusion. But it feels so damn good to have him inside you. This is even better than in your wildest dreams.  
Jungkook leans closer, pushing his cock a bit deeper inside you and snatching a loud moan out of you. “You feel so fucking good, princess.” His deep voice groans in your ear. “Even better than in my dreams.”
The fact that he has been dreaming about this too gets you wetter. How on earth could you two be so stupid to not notice that you were both completely in love with each other? You feel like you’re in some crappy romantic movie, only it’s taking a dirty turn.
“Let’s just show your brother and Soomin how louder I can make you moan.”
He wants the world to hear you moaning because he doesn’t plan on going nice and slow on you. All he wants is to fuck you rough and good all night long, and that’s also what you want. You want him to fuck you until all you know is to scream his name. You want to get revenge for all the years you had to hear your brother and Soomin fuck like animals.
“Fuck, do it, Jungkook.” You swear as he pulls back a bit to look at you in the eyes, and a smirk arises on his face.
“I plan to fuck you all night long until you beg me to stop.”
Jungkook slowly pushes back, leaving only the tip of his cock inside you. His eyes never leave your figure, watching you moan under him. He never imagined that he’d love hearing you moaning under him. That sound is for sure his new favorite music.
“Please do it.” You tell him, making him smirk, satisfied to hear you begging him to show you no mercy tonight.
Brutally, he pushes his cock fully inside you, and a loud moan leaves your lips. For a little while, he doesn't move, hovering over you and watching you with delight. His eyes look down on your body. He’s surprised by how insanely perfect you are. Your body is for sure the prettiest one he has ever seen, and he has seen tons of bodies.
Unlike what everyone thinks, he’s not fond of skinny bodies. He loves curves and imperfect bodies because they show life. They show that their owners eat to live, and the curves drive him crazy. He could come just by looking at your ass.  
His lips meet yours for a sloppy kiss before going down to your neck, leaving another hickey on your skin. On Monday, he wants everyone to see them. He wants everyone to know that he’s the only one who can make you feel good. Once he has tortured your skin enough, his eyes get lost on your body again, groaning as he watches himself buried deep inside you.
“Your cunt takes me so fucking well, princess.”
You close your eyes, completely enjoying having him fully inside you. You’re completely euphoric and drunk on the feeling of him stretching your walls. Once he sees that you’re ready to take more, he pulls back brutally before slamming himself back into you. The bed under you squeaks, the headboard hitting the wall just behind you.
For sure, your brother hears the two of you enjoying some good time, and you already know that tomorrow morning he’ll make some nasty comments.  
Jungkook once again stops when he’s fully inside you, torturing you just to hear you begging him to fuck you. This is of course not enough for you. You need more. You need him to fuck you rough on this bed.
“Please, Jungkook,” you start saying, “fuck me.”
He leans closer again. “Never thought I needed to hear you begging, princess.” He whispers before licking the spot just under your ear. He pushes his cock back before slamming into you with both hands on your hips, pulling you back to meet his thrusts. The slick sound of your pussy soaking his cock as well as your moans quickly fill the room.
“Shit,” you gasp while he thrusts into you with no mercy, “you feel so good.”
You’re completely drunk in the feeling of his cock filling you up, his hips hitting against yours with every thrust he makes. This all causes sparks of pleasure to shoot throughout your body, your arousal dripping from your core and creaming his cock. Jungkook smirks as he notices the sticky mess you’re causing. His cock is buried deep inside you, brushing against that spot that causes you to moan even louder each time. You grip the sheets as hard as possible to steady yourself from Jungkook’s hard thrusts.
Neither of you can believe that you practically missed this opportunity. Without your mother and her insistence on wanting to settle you in with Taehyung, none of you would be having sex right now together. Without your brother and his girlfriend, none of you would be completely turned on. Basically, without your family, you’d still be dreaming about this exact moment.  
“You’re so fucking wet, baby girl.” He hisses before biting his lower lip. His hands press harder into your skin when he feels your walls tighten around him. “And making such a mess on my cock.”
Every time he pushes his hips back, he watches with delight the way his cock is completely covered with your arousal. Nothing drives him crazier than seeing this, it is as if your bodies were made for each other.  
Jungkook bends down, pressing a sloppy kiss on your lips while his thrusts slow down. A desperate whine gushes from you, a sound that Jungkook swallows proudly. His hands go up on your body, grabbing your breasts and squeezing them to make you moan with desire before his fingers start playing with your nipples. Moans flood out of your mouth as he tortures your body.
“It feels so good.” You whine. His thrusts are slow and harsh again, and his fingers on your nipples are just too much for you. Gradually, Jungkook begins to thrust hard into you again, and you moan at the feeling of his brutal thrust. Your walls suck his cock as he slams his hips into you with more force. His fingers keep playing with your very sensitive nipples, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
His eyes look at you, contorting with pleasure as it slowly builds within you. Your moans are getting louder, and right now, you’re sure that your parents that sleep on the complete opposite side of this floor are able to hear your moaning Jungkook’s name.
“Moan louder, baby.” He says as he goes deeper and harder to make you scream with pleasure. Your voice moaning his name is the only thing he wants to hear.  
His hands can feel the way your body quivers with each thrust. The way he’s torturing your body is only making you lose yourself further. He just knows how to pleasure you perfectly like he became a master of your body in just some minutes.  
“Fuck.” He groans when he feels the warmth of your walls wrapping tighter around him. “Your cunt is clenching so hard, baby.”
As you look up at him, you can’t help but find him extremely attractive. His eyes stare down at you with passion and lust as his tongue licks his lower lips. He simply can’t believe this is really happening. He can’t believe that he’s having sex with the girl of his dreams. He keeps growling your name, thrusting into you with more urgency each time.
Jungkook leans again forward, pressing another sloppy kiss on your lips. He loves to feel your lips on his, even if the kiss is a disaster. Feeling your lips makes him realize that this is real, you’re really under him.
“Gonna be a good girl and come for me?” He asks, and you nod. You want to be a good girl for him, especially on your first time together although Jungkook wants to hear you begging for it, he wants to know how badly you want to come. “Use your words, baby girl.”
His fingers pinch your nipples harder, making the wave of pleasure growing bigger inside you. “I want to come.” You manage to say. “I wanna come so bad.”
Jungkook feels his cock twitching inside of you, a low groan rumbling in his throat as you practically beg him to let you come. He smirks while one of his hands slowly goes down on your body, passing your stomach, and landing on your throbbing clit. His fingers start to rub your sensitive spot as his cock keeps hitting that sweet spot that drives you crazy.
“Beg for it, baby girl.” He says. His fingers show no mercy on your clit, and you’re not even sure if you’ll be able to beg for anything before coming.
“Please, Jungkook.” It’s impossible to even form a proper sentence with the way he’s torturing you.
“Tell me, baby girl.” He keeps teasing you with a smirk on his face.
“Let me come.”
His smirk grows bigger on his face, happy to have you begging him to come. Jungkook never thought he’d be into teasing but with you, he seems to discover what he truly likes. The wave of pleasure inside you is growing bigger and bigger, almost becoming overwhelming. You’re moaning like a mess, but at this stage, you couldn’t care less.      
“Do it, princess. Come for me.”
Those words are what you need for the wave of pleasure to hit you intensely, making you come hard around him. Your arousal covering completely his cock and your walls squeezing him over and over again.
While you’re completely euphoric from your orgasm, he speeds up the pace of his hips slamming into you, wanting to chase his own high. The coil in his lower stomach tightens inside of him, and it completely clouds his thoughts. The only thing he sees is the image of you coming under him.
Breathy whines escape his pretty lips as he looks down at the mess you made on his cock. A desperate moan leaves his mouth when his orgasm hits him hard. His eyes roll back with pleasure as his body tenses up and release his load inside the condom. Loud cries of euphoria leaving his lips.
He collapses next to you, both of your bodies covered in sweat after this intense sex session. Your heavy breathing is now the only thing that can be heard in your bedroom.
“I think the entire neighborhood heard us.” You say while running your fingers in his hair.
“That’s exactly what I wanted.” He presses a sweet kiss on your forehead before covering both your bodies with the bedsheets. “I guess we should try to sleep now.”
You nod, resting your head on his chest and slowly falling asleep on his arms. To say that you’re happy that this night took a dirty turn is more than an understatement. But tomorrow, you’ll for sure need to discuss about what just happened. You can’t just fuck like this and expect things to stay the way they were. Everything has changed now. Jungkook just loves you the way you love him.
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Sleeping peacefully with him by your side was easier said than done. It’s around 4 am, you’re both awake but you’re not staring at the ceiling. No, now that you’re both aware of the feelings consuming the two of you, you’re using this time to make up for all the time lost.  
His cock is buried once again inside you, only this time you’re riding him. This time he’s also not wearing any condom since he only had one left in his wallet, he actually never imagined that he was going to have sex with you tonight.  
“Shit.” You gasp, palms resting on his toned chest for leverage as you lift yourself up and drop back on his cock.
You’re completely drunk in the feeling of his cock filling you up, his hips working in tandem with yours while your arousal drips down your thighs, pooling around the base of his cock. Jungkook can’t help but love the way your body contorts with delight as you’re both fucking again.  
“You’re so fucking wet.” He groans, his hands holding your waist tighter when your walls squeeze him. “You’re making such a mess on my cock, princess.” His deep voice sends shivers down your spine. At this rhythm, you’ll be coming undone at any moment. A desperate moan falls out of your mouth, your nails digging into the skin of the muscles on his chest.
Jungkook groans when you speed up the movement of your hips, the warmth of your walls wrapping around him tighter than before as his hands go up on your body, cupping your breasts in them. He pinches your nipples between his fingers, causing you to moan louder and louder.
It’s 4 am, everyone is supposed to be sleeping while the two of you are moaning like nobody else is in this house. For sure, Jin is going to complain about your night activities with Jungkook but you just don’t care. You just want Jungkook to stretch you out open and fill you up to the brim.
“You’re fucking hot, princess.” He groans. “You’re riding me so well.”
You can feel his cock twitch inside of you as you rock your hips at a steady rhythm, your palms still pressed against his toned chest while his hands grip onto the sheets.
A small moan leaves your lips as you look down at him. His long wet hair sticking on his face turns him into an even hotter man. His eyes are staring up at you in that stunning way that shows you how lost in the pleasure he is. His tongue licks his lips as he moans out your name, tugging at the sheets and thrusting up into you with more urgency each time.
“You look like a sin.” You whisper, trying as hard as possible to avoid making more noise this early in the morning. You lean forward to press a kiss on his lips because that’s the only to muffle your moans.
“Can we just talk about you?” He replies back when your lips leave his. “You’re here, using my cock as if you own it and moving your hips in a way that completely hypnotize me.”
You moan at his words because damn, you’re really riding his cock as if Jungkook is yours. Well, for him, he’s completely yours. He doesn’t want any other girl to ride him like you’re doing it right now.
Your walls clench around his length, squeezing him hard. So far, he has let you set the pace and use him the way you wanted but this is just too slow for him. He wants more. He starts thrusting up to you in a harsh way. He goes deep inside of you, and you are loving it. Tears start to roll down your cheeks because of the way he’s pounding inside of you. He’s stretching your insides so much with his rough thrust and it makes your whole body tremble.
The wave of pleasure inside has grown suddenly so strong that you feel like you’re about to come.
“Gonna cum, Jungkook.” You whimper.
Your nails sink into his chest, making him groan at the pain and pleasure it gives him. He grips the sheets harder as he continues to roughly thrust inside you.
“Go ahead, babe, make a mess for me.” He groans as he keeps thrusting hard.
Those dirty words are all you need to let your orgasm go. You are coming, biting your lower lip to muffle your moans. Your thighs are shaking but he keeps thrusting into you while you’re completely high from your orgasm. Jungkook is completely loving the way you’re creaming his dick.  
His pace becomes more brutal as he’s chasing his own orgasm, making the bed creaking under you. Your walls keep clenching around him and that is all he needs to come. He closes his eyes, enjoying this moment of release and you are sure he’d never look so sexy.  
You collapse over Jungkook as you both try to catch your breath for a little while, and you leave a lot of kisses on his sweet face. He’s loving it and he could stay like this forever.
“This a beautiful way to start Valentine’s Day.” He whispers before falling asleep in your arms. You hold him tight against you, loving to have him pressed against your body. This is for sure the best night of your life.
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It’s Monday morning.
You’re entering the building of JBC with Jungkook. Everybody looks at the two of you although they don’t pay too much attention since they all think you’re just friends. But they ignore everything that happened the last two days.
Yesterday, after all the sex, you had a real conversation with Jungkook. You both expressed the feelings you had for each other, you swear you’ve never been happier than you were yesterday. That conversation made you realized how stupid you both are. You’ve been in love for months but you were both so scared to lose the other that you never said anything.
Yesterday, you agreed to give a try to this whole relationship thing. You want to see if this can work even though you’re both convinced that it’s going to work.
So, you’re not entering this building as friends but as a couple. You both have that stupid smile glued on your faces while you talk to each other. Like every morning, you enter the elevator already full of people but when it arrives on the floor you work, you kiss Jungkook with passion, drawing the attention of everyone in the small cabin.
“Have a nice day, my princess.”
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svenotes · 7 months ago
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stay with me | jjk
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❝ maybe staying another night at your boyfriend’s isn’t such a bad idea ❞
[ PAIRING ] : jeon jungkook x reader
[ GENRE ] : established relationship au + smut and a smudge of fluff
[ WORD COUNT ] : 6k
[ WARNINGS ] : oral sex, some real good tongue technology on jungkook’s part, fingering, overstimulation, penetrative sex, creampie, LOTS AND LOTS of dirty talk, jk calls oc ‘baby’ and ‘pretty girl’ way too many times, oc worried that her bf is going to get tired of her, some mentions of anxiety, jk is the sweetest bf and even sweeter at sex, there is barely any plot and just a lot of sex im so sorry 
[ AUTHOR’S NOTE ] : i'm on my period and i got horny and then this happened
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masterlist | wattpad cross post | ao3 cross post
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“No.”
Jungkook shuffles behind you, the bed moaning. “You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”
You shake your head, failing to suppress your smile as you slip on your thong. However, it does little to hide you from him. Glancing at the mirror, you see him shamelessly stare at your ass, licking his lips before he meets your gaze through the glass with a boyish grin.
You turn around to face him. “You’re going to ask me to stay.”
Jungkook hums, eyes dancing across your bare skin, darkening. Heat rushes to your cheeks as he admires you, confidence swelling in your chest and you take a moment to admire him. He sits at the edge of the bed, naked and yours, white, silk sheets pooled around his lower abdomen.
Your eyes trace over his rigid muscles, and your fingers itch to touch him. Even under the dim light, he is beautiful with his dishevelled hair and swollen lips. You finally meet his gaze and swear your knees almost give out. Heat pools in your stomach when you see the hunger in his gaze, breath hitching in your throat. Your thighs press together reflexively and it doesn’t go unnoticed by him.
“Wrong.” Jungkook pulls you at you until you're straddling him. He cranes his neck to press butterfly kisses along your jaw. “I was going to ask you to not leave.”
“Baby.” You thread your fingers in his hair, tugging at the strands. “That means the same thing.”
“Don't care,” he hums, pressing a firm kiss against your lips. “Don’t go.”
His plea tugs at the strings of your heart. It’s hard to say deny him. It’s especially hard to deny him with his dick hard, prodding against your thigh and his lips coercing you to stay cocooned under the sheets with him. However, the anxiety that builds in your chest is overwhelming and the thoughts that kept you up the night before still linger.
“Jungkook.”
“Unless you’re telling me you're staying, I don’t want to hear it.”
You giggle, leaning down for a sweet kiss. Minutes pass by before you pull away with a burn in your lungs and clouded mind. He chases after your lips, but you tilt your head for his lips to press against the corner of your lips, to his reluctance.
“Baby,” you start, “I need to go home and get new clothes. I’ve spent the entire weekend here and now I have nothing to wear.”
“I like you naked, anyway.” He grins as you slap his chest, failing to bite back your smile. “You can wear my clothes.”
“I have no underwear left.”
“I have a laundry machine.” He traces every curve of your spine, sending shivers down your back. “You’ll have clean clothes tomorrow.”
You brush the long strands of his hair from of his face. “I could grab some new clothes and come back tomorrow.”
“It’s going to be dark soon,” he reasons, unhooking your bra with two fingers and you cock a brow. “Leave in the morning — after breakfast. Dangerous people come out at night, y’know? I don’t want anything bad happening to you.”
“You would’ve won me over with that one if you didn’t unhook my bra,” you remark, pinning him with a look.
“Really? Wait, lemme redo that—!” You let out a heartfelt laugh, throwing your head back and he grins. “Seriously, don't go. I don’t want you walking outside late at night.”
“The sun’s only about to set, I can get home before it gets too dark.”
Jungkook’s brows pinch together, lips curling downwards. “You’re trying so hard to leave. Why?”
Your heart misses a beat and you pray he doesn’t notice the hesitation in your eyes as anxiety swells in your chest. Your worries flood your mind as a reminder as why you must leave.
“You're going to get sick of me if I don't give you some space.”
“I could never get sick of you,” he retorts, holding you closer with a shake of his head. “And I don't need space from you. Wanna keep you in my arms forever.”
Your gaze softens on him and his cheeks are coloured pink. “Kook.”
“I don’t want you to leave — not tonight.” He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses against the column of your throat. “Want you to stay with me.”
You indulge in the idea; one more night. You could stay one more night. You could. However, the fear in your chest does not allow for it. You’re scared — worried if he spends every waking moment with you he’ll soon get tired of you. Perhaps it’s a stupid thought considering you’ve been dating for over a year now, but the dread still lingers. No matter how much you reason with it, it haunts your thoughts — keeps you awake in the middle of the night even as he rests in your embrace.
He drags you from your reverie, pressing a kiss against the sweet spot under your ear and you let him have his way for now.
“Don’t go,” he says again in a whisper, pleading with his eyes. “Please. I want you to stay.”
Before you can answer he leans down to press his lips against yours. His lips meld with your own in a fervent kiss, his hand trailing down your body and tracing the curve of your ass, as he presses himself against your core. You roll your hips against him as the kiss becomes more sloppy and desperate with every press of him against you. Waves of pleasure shoot down to your core, your pussy clenching around nothing.
“Jungkook,” you moan.
His lips trail down the underside of your jaw, pressing a wet kiss against your pulse. A coil of desire begins to tighten at every nudge of his shaft against your nerves, nails digging into the skin on his back in response.
“Ngh — Jungkook, please,” you urge as presses his hips against yours, applying pressure to your bundle of nerves.
“Please, what, baby,” he hums, smirking against your skin. “Use your words.”
“Touch me. Please, ah,” you moan, throwing your head back against the pillow. “Need you to touch me.”
He throws your unhooked bra to the side. Bringing a hand to wrap around your breast, he squeezes it adoring how soft and pliant you are under his touch. You arch your back as his tongue flicks against your perked nipple.
“Are you sure?” He asks, his warm breath fanning across the pebbled bud on your breast. “Thought you had to go, hm?”
“Jungkook—!”
“I won’t stop until I’m satisfied,” he says, hoarse, searching your eyes for an answer. “I won’t let you go until you’re begging me to stop. Do you want that?” He rolls grinds his cock against your core, groaning. “Won't stop ’til I feel your hot, tight pussy milk me for every last drop. Ah, wanna feel you fall apart on my cock, see you all pretty and full of my cum, hear you beg for more and more until you break.”
You gasp at his vulgar words, the hot, white coil tightening in your stomach. You wish so badly for him to be inside of you when you clench around nothing. His lips wrap around your perked nipple, licking and biting you, eliciting the sweetest of moans from your lips as his tongue swirls around your bud.
Your thread your fingers through his hair, pulling at the strands at the nape of his neck how he likes it. He moans against you as you continue to experimentally roll your hips against him, desperate for some friction — for him.
“Do you want that, too, baby?” He asks, leaving a trail of kisses up the valley between your breasts. “Means you can’t go home though. You’ll miss your train if you let me do the things I want.”
“Are you sure you’re not going to get tired of seeing me every day?”
You try to laugh, but your voice comes out strained and full of worry. It doesn't sound like a joke as you hoped, voice shaking as you ask your question. Your heart thunders in your chest and you wonder if he can hear it.
Jungkook stills, his lips brushing against your collarbone. He pulls back to look at you, brows furrowed and eyes full of confusion.
“You think I’m getting tired of you?”
You look away from his piercing gaze and he doesn’t like it. Taking your face in his hands, he urges you to meet his eyes and you find yourself meeting his concerned gaze.
“Talk to me,” he says, softly.
You take a deep breath, eyes flickering to your hands resting against his chest. Mustering the courage to open up, you meet his gaze again as he patiently waits for your response, a thumb rubbing soothingly against the soft skin of your cheek.
“I—I’m scared that you're going to realize I’m not as great as you think I am,” you begin softly, voice shaking. “I’m worried if you spend too much time with me you'll get sick of me. I’m scared you’re going to get tired of me and leave me.” You pause, noticing the bewildered expression on his face. “I wanted to leave so I could give you space in case you wanted it. I didn’t — I don’t want to suffocate you.”
He’s silent for a long moment and you know it’s because he’s collecting his thoughts. However, a part of you still worries. You worry it's because he realizes he has grown tired of your presence. You worry he realizes that you have too much emotional baggage and doesn’t want to deal with it. You worry because you have a hard time accepting someone’s love.
“I haven’t done a good job at being your boyfriend,” he starts and your eyes widen, “if you’re thinking I’m going to get sick of you.”
“No,” you reply immediately, cupping his face. “It's not you. It’s my insecurities — my anxiety. You’re more than perfect. You say and do all the right things, Kook. I just… I’m scared one day you’re going to get tired of me — tired of constantly reassuring me, sick of having me around all the time and clinging to you.”
You’ve talked to Jungkook about it before. He knows about the thoughts that keep you up at night — the worries that gnaw at you until you’re in tears. He knows and he stays. He tries to help you in every way he possibly can. He holds you when you need it, whispers reassuring words, comforts you no matter when or where. He’s there for you in every possible way because he loves you.
But sometimes your anxiety gets the best of you — especially when it comes to him.
“Baby,” he starts and it’s hard to meet his eyes, “I will never get tired of you. I will never get sick of you.”
“You don’t know that—!”
He cuts you off, “But I do. I know because I can’t get enough of you. I don’t think I ever will. Every moment you’re not with me all I want is you. All I can ever think about is you. You drive me crazy and you don’t even know it. All I ever want is you beside me, in my arms, in my house with me. I always want you right beside me — right where you belong.” A pause. “You know I love you, right?”
“I love you, too.” Your response is almost immediate and he smiles, leaning to press a soft kiss against your lips.
“Do you know how much I love your laugh?” You’re silent. “Do you know how much I love making you smile; how much I love waking up beside you and falling asleep with you in my arms. How much I adore your victory dances when you win games and your snoring—!”
“Hey!” You complain, but there’s a smile curling on your lips to match his.
“I love you so much — every single part of you — I couldn’t possibly ever get sick you. I love you so much I don't ever want to let you go.”
Hesitantly, you look at him and let the sincerity of his words sink in. His eyes are full of adoration for you and your heart is enveloped by a sudden warmth only he can elicit in you. Lifting your hand between your bodies and extend your pink finger to him.
“Promise?”
He doesn't hesitate to wrap his small finger around yours before sealing the promise with a sweet kiss. “Promise.”
“Okay,” you say, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I wasn’t being too clingy this weekend? I wasn’t bothering you or being annoish—!”
“I’m going to stop you before you say more things I don’t like.” He smothers your face in his hands, eyes narrowed. “Remember, I wanted you here this weekend, too. And I want you to spend another night because I love you and I’m going to miss you when you’re gone.”
“Okay,” you murmur, shyly. “I’ll stay the night.”
“Good. I want my pretty girl beside me,” he chuckles under his breath, tucking a loose curl behind your ear. You notice his eyes grow softer, an emotion you cannot decipher hidden behind the awestruck in his eyes that leaves butterflies in its wake. “Move in with me.”
You blink. “What?”
“I—!" His eyes are wide as if he didn’t expect himself to say the word himself. His eyes flicker downwards before they meet yours again with purpose. “I want you to move in with me.” A deep breath. “My apartments too big for just one person and I miss you whenever you’re gone. You spend more time here than you do at your own place anyway. Move in with me.”
You search eyes and all you're met with is sincerity. “Are you sure?”
“Yea,” his smile is soft but it makes your heart swell. “Yea, I'm sure. I’m tired of waking up every morning and not having you beside me.”
“Moving in?” You ask, uncertainly.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while, but I wasn’t sure if you were ready. And you don’t have to give me an answer tonight or tomorrow. I want you to think about it and if you’re not ready, that’s okay because I’ll wait for you. You’re worth the wait.”
“Kook—!"
“I already know I want to spend the rest of my life with you, ___.” Your eyes widen at the declaration and his cheeks are coloured pink despite the bright smile on his lips. “I know we’re not there yet, but I want you every single day for the rest of my life. So while I wait for you to be my wife, I want to move in with you.”
Jungkook momentarily stills before he realizes the soft pressure against his lips is your own, smiling into the kiss as he closes his eyes. He kisses you tenderly and sweet, but there is desperation behind them. You’ve kissed Jungkook thousands of times but he still makes your head dizzy as he slips his tongue between the seams of your lips. You’re not sure how long you stay like that, your fingers tangled in his hair and his own pulling you closer towards him.
He pulls back first, a string of saliva connecting you before he places another firm kiss against your lips. “Was that a yes?”
“Yea,” you breathe, grinning. “Yea, it was.”
He flips you onto the bed with practiced ease, your back hitting the mattress as he hovers over you. You giggle as he places butterfly kisses all over your neck and shoulder.
“I love you so much,” he breathes, face hidden in the crook of your neck. “My pretty, pretty girl.”
“Jungkook.”
“Yes.”
“I want to cum.”
He laughs, pulling away. “Shameless, too.”
He leaves a trail of kisses down your body until he’s a hair's breadth from your cunt. His fingers brush against your closed slit, arousal leaking through the flimsy material as he presses against your core. Your breathing becomes erratic when he presses a kiss against your clothed lips.
“Baby — fuck.” Your eyes roll back as he drags his tongue to your clit, the friction from the fabric on your nerves driving you crazy. “St-stop, agh, teasing.”
“You’re not in the position to make rules, baby,” he says, rubbing against your clothed clit. “I’m going to take my time with you — have you begging for me to taste your cunt. And when you do, I’ll use my tongue to lick every little drop of sweetness from your pussy. Make you come on my mouth over and over until you’re begging me to stop.”
You whine, “Please.”
He teases you, moving your underwear aside just enough to lick a long stripe from your pussy to your clit. Groaning, he meets your eyes as your underwear slides back in place.
“You taste so good, baby,” he purrs, pressing a kiss against your thigh. “And you're so fucking wet. Bet I could slide right into you.” His fingers are back on you, brushing against your clit but not enough to do anything. “You want me, baby?”
Your arch your back in response to his next ministration. “Yes.”
His touch is gone just like that and you whine, brows furrowed in frustration. He snaps the waistband of your thong against your skin with a smirk.
“Beg.”
“Jungkook—!”
You’re about to complain, but he cuts you off. “Beg or I’ll fuck myself using that pretty mouth and leave you dry. Tell me, baby, how bad do you want me?”
“Please, baby, I need you.” Your hooded eyes meet his heated gaze. “Need your fingers, mouth, cock — you. I need you so bad. Wanna feel you so bad, please.”
“Could be better,” he muses before he presses a kiss against your clothed core. “But I’m impatient.” He taps your hips. “Up.”
Helping you out of your underwear, he brings his face towards your core, blowing against your opening. His nose brushes against your thigh as he places another kiss against the soft skin, hooking your legs over his shoulder.
“You’re soaking and I’ve barely touched you.”
You hum, contentedly when his tongue brushes against your slit. “All for you.”
“My pretty girl,” he rasps, nose brushing against clit. “So wet and needy for me.”
Before you can complain again you feel his hot, wet tongue press harshly against your lips before he drags it up to your clit. He swirls the rosy muscle on your clit, teasingly until your moaning and breathless. Without warning, his lips envelop around your throbbing bud, sucking in full force you scream his name as your hips buck. Warm hands hold your waist down as he hums, tongue licking against your entrance again. For a moment he dips inside you, moaning at the taste of your sweetness before going back to suck at your clit the way you love it and you see stars behind your lids.
He repeats the motion over and over, swirling his warm tongue around your swollen bud and sucking it in a way that has you forgetting your own name. Against your slick lips, he whispers praises, before he slips two fingers into your warm cavern and curling his fingers inside you.
“O-oh, fuck—!” you gasp, fingers tangled in his hair. “Don — mmngh — don’t stop, ngh.”
“Gotchu,” he grins when he finds your sweet spot. “Does it feel good, baby?”
“S-so good.” Your nails scrape against his scalp and he emits a low groan. “So fucking good, fuck.”
His fingers continue their onslaught at a new pace, brushing roughly against the spot that leaves you breathless. His lips are back on your clit like a hot suction and you scream out from the overwhelming pleasure.
“So fucking tight,” he muses, pressing a kiss against your bud. “Your pretty cunt's taking my fingers so well, baby. You sound so pretty while I fuck you with my fingers, but you sound prettier when you cum, you know that?”
Your head is spinning from euphoria, ecstasy and the lack of oxygen, but it doesn't matter — not when he's bringing you closer and closer to your release.
“Mngh — J-Jungkook!” He sets a new violent pace that leaves you overwhelmed as he hits your sweet spot. His name falling out your lips like a broken record while he licks at your juices, groaning against your cunt when you fist his hair and pull him closer to you. An electrifying coil in your lower abdomen tightens, building further when his ministrations bring you closer and closer to your peak. You clench around his fingers, bucking your hips further into his hand, whimpering as you say, “God, yes — ngh, fuck. I’m so close.”
“Cum for me.”
Euphoric pleasure slowly, yet surely floods through your body, his lips enveloped around your sensitive bud as he curls his fingers against your soft spot. With one last flick of his tongue, you fall off the euphoric cliff as he laps at your juices. He presses harsh, but sure circles against your clit with his thumb as you ride out your orgasm. Your hip spams, thighs trembling as he coaxes you through an indescribable, mind-blowing release that leaves your vision white.
His lips don’t leave your nether regions, wincing at the oversensitivity. You tug at his strands of hair but he shakes his head.
“Not done with you yet,” he whispers, licking the fruits of his efforts once his fingers slip out of your dripping cunt. “Wanna have you crying my name. Wanna show you how much I love you. Will you let me?”
You lift your head from the pillow, leaning on your elbows as you sit up. He holds your stare, smirking before he flattens his tongue and drags it up your slit to your sensitive bud and you shudder. His grip on your thighs tightens to keep you in place before he lowers his head between your thighs, the hot suction back on your clit.
“Agh, Kookie.” You throw your head back, chest heaving. “I’m too—” Gasp. “—sensitive.”
“You can take it.” A kiss against your nether lips. “Wanna show you how much I want you — how much I love the taste of you. I’m not letting you go until you’re begging me to stop. You up for that? Want me to remind you how good I can make you feel?” He dips his tongue back in you and you hiss. “Can you be my pretty, little slut, baby, hm? You wanna make me happy, don’t you?”
“Y-yea.”
You feel him smile against your thigh. “Who does this pretty pussy belong to?”
“You.”
“That’s right.” A rewarding stroke his tongue. “This pussy belongs to me. You’re mine. This pussy is mine. Will you let me play with this pretty cunt, baby?”
He watches you with hunger in his eyes and the desire to have him use you as he pleases to seek his own pleasure overcomes you.
He brushes his tongue against your swollen nub, and you gasp, “Yes.”
“Pretty girl,” he hums and you’re immediately wrapped around his finger. “Do you want to be my perfect little slut?” You nod, meeting his heated gaze, a wolfish grin curling on his lips. “You're too good to me, you know that, baby?” He teases his tongue around your entrance, eliciting a whine from you. “My pretty girl.” Lips wrap around your clit and you scream, body falling limp against his sheets. “My perfect, little slut.”
And with that his tongue is on you, violently bringing you to another release. You are oxygen and he is a man deprived, burying himself deeper in your cunt. A growl emits from the back of his throat as you thread your fingers through his hair, your winces from oversensitivity shifting to moans of pleasure. He finds home between your thighs, reluctant to leave as he licks at every drop of sweetness you grant him. Jungkook brings you to release over and over until your tears stream down your face and you find it hard to take the pressure of his tongue against your overly-sensitive nerves.
With one last wave of pleasure washing over you, he pulls away. His cheeks are coated with a warm fuchsia, lips parted as he looks at your cunt with a predatory gaze. From his nose to his chin, he is covered in a sheen of your juices, eyes blown out as they meet your own.
He adores your fucked out expression, your chest heaving while you catch your breath. His tongue swipes at the remnants of your release on his swollen lips, the back of his hand wiping the excess off his chin before he leans down to catch you in a short kiss. When he pulls away, his eyes search yours for any sign that you want to stop, but he finds nothing.
“You did so well, baby,” he whispers against your lips. “How are you feeling?”
“You told me you would make me pretty and full of your cum.” His gaze hardens on you, dark eyes trained on your own. “‘M not full of your cum yet. Can you fix that?”
“Such a greedy slut.” A smile grows on his lips as he leans down to your neck, nipping at the skin. “I made you come on my mouth so many times, but you still want more. Greedy, needy slut.”
“For you.” You wrap your legs around his waist as you grind yourself against his dick. “Only for you.”
He groans, hips rolling in rhythm with yours. “You like being my slut?”
“I like being yours.”
He stills for all of a second before he breaks out into a grin, laughing as he presses a kiss against your lips. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
You wrap your arms around his neck and pulls his lips back on yours. As he leans towards you, his shaft presses against your folds. You’re barely able to focus on the kissing as you lose yourself in the overwhelming sensation as he grinds against you, coating his length with your juices.
A knot forms in your lower abdomen like a hot, tight coil wanting to snap. You can already feel yourself get needy at the feeling of his length against your folds, but before you can act upon it—!
“Tsk.” Jungkook clicks his tongue against his teeth as he catches you trying to slip his cock past your folds. “You want my cock?”
“Mhm,” you hum in a daze, eyes lazily meeting his. “Want you inside me.”
“It’s not going to be that easy, baby.” You furrow your eyes at that, mouth opening in protest. “Beg for it. Tell me how badly you want to be fucked by my cock.”
You frown. “That’s not happening—!”
There’s a teasing pressure against your pussy that makes you gasp, eyes rolling back as your mouth hangs open. A soft whimper escapes from you as he adjusts his cock to rub against you, mixing his pre-cum with your juices.
“What was that?” He asks, smirking and you glare at him through your lashes. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. I can give you everything you want if you just—” he leans down until his lips brush against your ear, his finger grazing over your sensitive clit and you hiss, pushing your hips against his hands for more, “—beg.”
Again, you ignore his request but more so because he aligns his cock to prod against your cunt and you cannot focus on anything but your need to have him buried in you. You can feel the sudden weight in the pit of your stomach as you lick your lips.
“So hungry for my cock,” he grunts. “You want something to fill you up so good you forget your name, don’t you?”
“Yes,” you cry at the lack of attention on your sex. “Please.”
“Please what?” He asks, lips curling because he knows he has you exactly where he wants. “Words.”
“Please fuck me,” you give in, frustrated as your walls clench around nothing. You’re hungry for more — body craving more of what he’s willing to offer; of the undeniable pleasure he would provide if you just gave in. “God, I want your cock — need it. Need you to fill me up, need you to fuck me — nngh!” You moan, body going rigid against his as his head rubs against your swollen bud, fingers tweaking at your perked nipples. “Want you so bad, baby. Wanna be your perfect, little slut so bad. Have me however you want, I don’t care — do whatever you want to me. I don’t fucking care.” You grind yourself against him, chest heaving as the desire for him to fill you up becomes desperate. “Just fuck me, baby, please.”
“That’s my girl.” He rewards you with a kiss. “I’ll fuck you, baby. I’ll fill you up with my cock. Gonna bury my cock deep inside your slick cunt. Gonna stretch out your walls so good no other cock will be good enough for you — no other cock could ever fill you up like mine. No one will fuck you better than me.”
“That’s right, baby,” you urge. “Make me yours.”
Painfully, slow he slips his cock into your warm cunt, groaning. He’s big, in both length and grith, causing a slight burn accompanied by an abundance of pleasure. Moans fill the room as he fills you up to the brim, inch by inch until he no longer can. Your hot, slick walls clench around him and he groans, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck.
“Stop that,” he growls, brows furrowed in concentration. “You’re so fucking tight, ah. If keep you do that I’m going to fucking blow my load.”
“Do your worst, baby,” you say, eyes hazy. “I want you to ruin me.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice, unsheathing himself from your cunt until the tip is nestled an inch within your entrance and then slams himself back into you. A lewd moan erupts from both of you as the stars decorate your vision. You arch your back, pressing your chest against his, eyes rolling back every time he sinks back into you. With each thrust and roll of your hips, he rubs himself against the spot that leaves ecstasy rushing through your veins.
“You’re so, agh, hot like this.” You can feel the pressure build in your stomach, the coil tightening with every brush of him against your sweet spot. “So hungry for my cock.”
“Feel so good in me,” you moan, watching as his dick slips in and out of your cunt. “Fill me up, ah, so good. Fuck, take what’s yours, baby.”
He visibly shudders at that before latching his lips on your perked nipple. His tongue laps around the perked bud on your breast, spare hand coming to knead the other before he swaps breasts.
You groan, dragging your nails down his back, sure to leave a mark. “Oh, fuck.”
Your eyes roll back as the head of his cock brushes roughly against the spot that has you seeing stars. He has your toes curling, his name coming out like a mantra as he ravishes your body, moaning into your neck. A knot of pleasure tightens, burning like a hot coil and he knows with the way you pulse around his dick that you’re so, very close.
You can taste the bits of your orgasm on the tip of your tongue, but it’s still not enough. You need so much more and he hears it in your pleas.
“Puh—please,” you breathe as you feel him press his lips against your pulse. “Hard—oh, my God.” You barely get the words out of your mouth before he’s ploughing into you with a force that knocks the air out of your lungs. “Ngh, like that, fuck. S-so good, baby. Feels so good.”
“Yeah,” he groans, biting your neck. “So good to me, fuck. Such a good fucking girl.” At that, you squeeze around him and he lets out another lewd moan. “You gonna cum?”
All you manage is a nod and a sharp breath of air. His hand slithers down your body to find your clit and he presses against it harshly, eliciting a hiss from you. It’s oversensitive from the multiple times he made you cum on his tongue, but he doesn’t care because he knows you love it. He’s quick to rub circles around the bud and smirks to himself at your vocal response.
“Don’t — ah — stop.” You feel the coil burn more, pleasure building in your body like rapid fire. So fucking close to your next release, even as the sensitive bud stings. “Gonna — ah — gonna cum.”
His lips are eager for yours, pressing against them in a searing, hot kiss as he tries to coax the orgasm from you with his sinful lips. You can taste yourself on him and hum. His release threatens to unravel before him, but he fights against it so he can feel you wrap around his cock when you cum. He lifts himself off you to admire the blissful look on your face as you slowly become undone before him.
“Pretty girl — ngh,” he whispers, hot breath fanning over your cheeks and you whimper. “All mine. Come — ah — for me, hm? Come all over my cock, baby.”
Sweat drips down both your bodies, your walls clenching around him as he fucks you hard. Every thrust leaves his head nudging against your sweet spot, clouding your vision white. A fire builds within you again, leaving you to gasp for air between every moan.
“Kook, I — ah, I can’t come—” Moan. “I can’t come again.”
Softly rubbing against your clit, he presses a chaste kiss on your lips. “You can take it. You’ve been such a good slut for me, tonight, baby. You can do it. Come around my cock for me.”
And with his words and one last thrust, the burning coil snaps, pleasure rushing through your body in euphoric waves. Your veins flood with ecstasy and he soon follows, his seed coating your walls. Overwhelming pleasure unravels within you both like a wildfire, spreading across your bodies as he continues his pace to ride out your highs. His lips find yours once again, pressing a lazy kiss against yours as you both ride out the last remnants of your orgasms.
Once he’s caught his breath, he slowly slips out of you, lifting himself to admire the way his seed spills out of your pretty cunt. You feel his cum spill out your cunt, down your thighs and onto the sheets beneath you.
“Such a pretty cunt,” he says aloud and your lips curl into a tired smile. “So dirty and full of my cum.”
He leaves the bed, heading towards the washroom to grab a warm cloth and you lay there, tired. Exhaustion seeps itself into your bones, lids heavy as they flutter shut. You don’t hear Jungkook return, but rather feel him when a warm cloth brushes against your swollen pussy, cleaning you up. He’s swift to clean you up the best he could before attending to himself and putting the rag away. Maneuvering over you, he brings the blanket over your bodies, nudging you to lay beside him.
“You were so good, baby,” he whispers as he pulls you closer towards him. “Always so good for me.”
“Mhm.”
He chuckles. “Are you tired?”
“Yea.” You nuzzle against his chest finding comfort in listening to his heartbeat. “I honestly could’ve knocked out after that first orgasm.”
He laughs, pressing a sweet kiss against your forehead. “Sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.”
“We do?” You furrow your brows. “Why? What’s tomorrow?”
“I’m gonna help you pack your boxes so you can move in by the end of the week.” You laugh along with him, throwing a leg over his own as you get comfortable. “Are you sure? You really ready to move in?”
Unable to hide your smile, you press a chaste kiss to his chest. “Yea, I’m sure.”
"You’ll be stuck with me for a long time,” he hums, exhaustion washing over him. “I won’t be letting you go for a while.”
"You better not.” Your smile quickly turns to a frown when you finally notice. “Jungkook?”
“Yea.”
“I'm hungry.”
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kimnjss · 9 months ago
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game nights | ot7
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⇢ pairing: ot7 x reader  ⇢ genre: smut. // pure unedited filth. ⇢ word count: 4.7K ⇢ theme: established relationships. ⇢ rating: explicit. ⇢ warnings: cursing, slight dirty talk, fingering, voyeurism, oral sex (f/m. receiving), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, soft noona kink, riding, cum shot, light anal play, exhibitionism, idk if this is an orgy buut... handjobs, masturbation, think there’s a bit of dry humping too. ⇢ A/N: yall, this was so !! i had a lot of fun writing this and this is my first time writing all of them so like pls be nice :( seven is a lot tho ., yn really out here living her best life x
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Several kisses are placed to Yoongi's cheek as you stand from the bench in the camper van. Wanting to give him some space to work as he got sucked deeper inside of his music, his grin grows at the feeling of your lips against his skin, a distracted peck being placed on your lips before you're heading out of the van.
Quick steps are taken toward the main house, set on seeing what the other guys are up to in there. Joon and Tae busy preparing dinner for tonight. Jimin is the first to notice you as you slide the screen door open, lips stretching into a pretty smile.
He's sat on the table, Hoseok in front of him and Jin on the other side. “What you guys in here talking about?” You're asking, sinking into the open space between Hobi's legs. Your back resting against his chest, strong arms wrapping around your waist. His head cranes to the side, wet lips grazing over the shell of your ear.
“They're playing the game,” His words tickle your ear, teeth nipping at the skin. He has your eyes fluttering from the gentle touch of his tongue, tips of his fingers brushing against your thighs.
The soft swipe of his tongue shifts into bold sucks from his lips, a single hand sliding underneath the fabric of your shirt. He's tracing patterns against your stomach, grip tightening around your thigh, parting your legs slightly – just enough so he's able to fit his hand between your legs.
A soft laugh falls from your lips, head tilting a bit so you can get a better look at his face. “What's gotten into you?” His fingers managed to creep up high enough underneath your shirt, fingers just underneath the wire of your bra. “You look good. This Kookie's shirt?” You're nodding, barely registering his words.
Mind too wrapped in the anticipation of what the and between your legs plans to do. Never one to beat around the bush, it's no surprise that Hoseok is skipping the formalities, going for what he wants. Jimin has hopped up from his spot at the table, singing is heart out with the karaoke lyrics that appear on the screen.
Jin is still in his spot at the table, focus on the character running across the screen. Neither of them picking up on the way Hoseok has slipped his hand underneath the waistband of your shorts, bypassing your panties completely. Cool fingers find your folds, stroking them slowly.
“So soft,” He sighs into your ear, fingers moving further between your legs. The tips of his fingers finding your entrance. With each gentle stroke he leaves behind, paired with the wet kisses he's leaving on your neck, you're growing wetter. And he's quick to notice, a groan falling from his lips at the feeling of your slickness. “Getting so wet already.”
With his words, his fingers are picking up speed. Moving up to find your clit, applying light pressure to the nub and you're eyes are rolling. Hips lifting slightly as your head lulls back against his shoulder. If he was trying to be discreet, that's now shot to hell with the sounds that leave your lips.
He doesn't seem to mind, rolling your clit between his fingers allowing you to lift your hips into his hand. Hoseok sucks hickeys into your skin and you feel heat bubbling in your chest. Close already and it's a little embarrassing how quickly he managed to get you there.
“Oh, fuck!” The cry tumbles from your lips automatically, as he's pushing two long fingers past your walls. He's chuckling, sliding into the knuckle, curling up, and just barely brushing against the soft spot inside of you. Jin's attention is flickering to you instantly at the sound of your voice, recognizing the roll of your hips automatically.
Thick lips caught between his teeth, sitting up slightly to get a better look at the movement of Hoseok's fingers between your legs. He's pumping his fingers in and out quickly, pressing against that spot each time he can reach it. Pulling whiny moans from your lips that has Jimin turning to face you.
Dark eyes zeroing in on the look on your face. Brows furrowed, jaw slack as a string of moans falling from your lips. A tightness rises between his legs, brow arching slightly. The karaoke forgotten as he lowers himself in front of you. “Is Hobi making you feel good, baby?” His tone soft, fingers reaching out to catch your jaw.
He uses his grip to tilt your head to his, pinning you with that sexy look that has your toes curling. You nod, but he's shaking his head instantly. “Wanna hear you,” Hoseok has pulled his fingers out to the tip, pushing them forward with a force that has a loud shout breaking through your chest.
Keeping his fingers pistoned inside of you, his thumb lifts to toy with your clit. Jimin's waiting expectantly in front of you, hands set on your knees to keep your legs from clamping shut. Weakly, you nod again – quickly realizing that wasn't enough for him the last time.
“Y-yes. It fe-els... so good.” It's the stroke of his ego that has Hoseok speeding up the movement of his fingers, mind set on making you cum in front of his members. Jin has moved from his spot behind you. Sat beside you with a large hand set over the growing bulge at the front of his shorts, not daring to look away from you.
It's different, having all of their eyes on you. Use to the times that Jungkook has watched, but this was much different and you liked it. So much that it has your walls clenching around Hoseok's fingers, pressure building in the pit of your stomach. “She's so close,” Thumb pressing down rougher on your clit as he speaks.
His name falls from your lips on a broken cry, orgasm washing through your body. Long fingers fuck you through the entirety of it, lips pressing soft kisses against your skin as you ride it out. He's not pulling his fingers out until your body is crashed against his chest again.
Jimin allows you no time to breathe, hands instantly reaching from the waistband of your shorts. He's tugging them down your legs before you're able to register he has a hold on them. Catching your panties along the way, effectively revealing your wet lips to the entire living room.
“Fuck, you're so messy.” He's whining before leaning forward, Hoseok's hands now on your knees – holding your legs open. Jimin's thick tongue takes a bold lick over your slit before he's diving in, lips attaching to your clit as the tip of his tongue flicks against it.
Hoseok's chin is rested on your shoulder, watching Jimin's tongue fuck into you. His thick length pressed into your lower back, the slow lift of his hips dragging it against you. Soft groans from the friction falling from his lips, mixing with the husky moans that echo beside you.
Eyes shifting, landing on Jin. Cheeks flushed and teeth scraping against his teeth, eyes downcast, focus on the twist of Jimin's tongues over your folds. He's since pulled his cock from behind his shorts, glistening tip on full display as his large hand strokes over the base. His hips move to match the movement of his hand and you can't keep yourself from reaching out.
His cock is thick, heavy in your palm. There's a stutter in his hips when you're stroking him, a pit more power in your movement than he had been applying before. The tongue between your legs moves swiftly, pushing past your folds and slipping into your entrance.
He's lapping up the juices that have leaked from your core following the orgasm Hoseok just gave you. Moaning against your core like the taste of you is the most delicious thing to ever hit his tongue, the sound sending vibrations through your body that has your pussy tingling, not far from your next release.
“Jimin,” The gasp falls from your lips easily, free hand reaching down to tangle in his hair. Pushing his face further between your legs as they threaten to close, if it wasn't for the firm grip Hoseok had on your thighs – no doubt they would've clamped down around his head by now.
Jin hisses, your hand squeezing around him a bit hard – moving faster over him. He's moving against you, cursing under his breath as the tightness in his stomach grows. The steady roll of Hoseok's hips behind you doesn't let up either, driving himself closer to the edge which each thrust.
“You're so sweet. Gonna cum all over my tongue?” His words are murmured into your entrance, but you hear him as if he's right at your ear. Nodding breathlessly as your hips lift, silently begging him to bring you to your climax all over again. Strong hands reaching out landing on your inner thighs.
His nose is pressed snugly against your clit, pushing against it with each movement of his jaw. Desperate pleas and mules fall from your lips and it's not long before you're falling apart, hand loosening around Jin's length which has him reaching to finish the job himself.
He watches you as you cum, grunting out his own release moments later. Jimin doesn't let up between your legs, taking in the new flow of arousal that leaves your body while Jin's cum splatters onto your cheek, rolling down the side of your face. Soft kisses are being placed to your clit before Jimin is lifting his head from your legs completely, hooded eyes finding your flushed face.
Your juices drip from the tip of his nose all the way to his chin. You don't bother to mask the soft moan that falls from your lips at the sight of him sucking his lips into his mouth, groaning at the taste of you. Thick lips capture yours a soft hand set on the back of your head to keep you still, mouth instantly flooded with your taste.
Jimin pulls away after a while, grinning down at you. Hoseok is the one to wipe your face, sleeve covered palm reaching up to wipe the stickiness from your cheek. He's cooing sweetness into your ear, gentle praise of how good you were for them. Hearing his words is enough to have your head spinning.
Jin is helping you to your feet after Jimin has secured your shorts onto your hips again. Soft lips finding your forehead and the moment is so sweet. Being surrounded by them, the way they care for is enough to make your heart swell.
And for the hundredth time, you're filled with the simple happiness that comes from being her. With them.
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Dinner was delicious, much to Namjoon's surprise. He had been so worried about cooking for everyone, but it turned out well in the end. Paired with the delicious stake prepared by your Taehyungie, it made for a great meal. Now the eight of you were gathered around in the game room, figuring out what game to play together on your last night.
Last night. You couldn't believe that the week had flown by so fast, had enjoyed yourself to the fullest here with them. It was nice to get away from it all, be in a place where only you guys existed. A definite breath of fresh air being able to step away from the constant hustle and bustle of their everyday life, finally able to breathe.
And them wanting you to be here with them made it that much better. This trip could easily be placed high up on your list of time spent with them. Whether it was spending mornings with Jin, cuddling with Yoongi, or working out with Jungkook you had enjoyed yourself.
Even if it was something as simple as watching Jimin and Taehyung sing karaoke, it felt like the best moment. Reading with Joon, driving with Hoseok such simple things but each moment felt precious. Even now, sat around the table listing off the different games you could play, it felt special.
It's Taehyung that suggests strip poker after the game of Avalon has grown too confusing to keep up with. And it's no surprise how quickly the suggestion is picked up, wide grins spreading across features as the cards are passed out. The game quickly turns competitive, it's inevitable with these boys. Although, their goal isn't targeting each other – no, what they were focused on was which one of them could trap you. A secret alliance formed to get you undressed but battling to see who could make you take off the most.
You're not the only one that has stripped down, though. Sat in the t-shirt that you stole from Jungkook and a pair of panties is almost nothing compared to what Taehyung is left in. the one that suggested the game, but he wasn't doing so well. His shirt and pants discarded, as well as his socks. He sits in nothing but the clingy briefs that leave very little to the imagination.
And you don't even bother to keep yourself from looking down. He's hard, which isn't much of a surprise. You had been pressed against him since he took his shirt off, seconds from nuzzling your way into his lap. His cock seems to twitch at the new bit of attention, lips parting as you all but drool at the sight.
He notices instantly, shifting so that his crotch is on display. You can clearly see the way it fights against the fabric of his boxers and your mind is wandering to all the things you know he can do with it. Yoongi's attention is spiked at the lull in your game, eyes following where you're staring. A brow lifted in Taehyung's direction.
Tae doesn't even realize he's got another set of eyes on him, the game the farthest thing from his mind as he reaches for your hand. Movements slow but there's direction behind them. Yoongi watches the entire time Tae sets your hand in his lap, spreading your fingers over his crotch.
A breathy moan falls from his lips when your fingers flex around him, hips lifting just slightly to meet your touch. The others are so wrapped up in the game, attention on Hoseok who has lost two rounds in a row. Shirt ditched as well as the sweats that hug his hips so nicely.
Your focus doesn't shift from the movement of your hand, though. Encouraged by the soft whines that fall from his lips, paired with the intense stare from Yoongi beside you. The tightness grows between his legs, not sure if it's from the sight of Taehyung getting worked up or watching the both of you. He doesn't care enough to dwell on it, though.
He's scooting closer to you without a second thought, arms wrapping around your waist. It seems like the game has been forgotten, an argument broken out about Jimin cheating the entire time. All so caught up in the game, they're not even realizing that's going on right beside them.
That's until Taehyung is letting a loud groan fall from his lips, a reaction following the swift way you've slipped your hand into his boxers – grasping his length in your palm. Yoongi ignores the new set of eyes on you, continuing his movements in spreading your legs. Effortlessly pushing your panties to the side, long fingers finding your sensitive clit instantly.
“Noona,” The breathy moan follows the whine that falls from your lips, your eyes snapping up to find Jungkook's, watching you hungrily from across the table. In that alerting you to the five-set of eyes burning into you, watching as your hand works over Taehyung and your hips roll into Yoongi's palm.
“You like being watched, huh? You're so wet already?” Yoongi's deep voice fills your ears, fingers slipping past your folds. He uses your slickness to easily slip past your walls, the familiar stretch pulling a soft sigh from your lips.
Head bobbing in response to his words, catching the smirk that falls on his lips. “M-more,” You croak, wrist twisting as you work your hand over Taehyung's length. His legs are spread, making it much easier for you to stroke him. Head cocked back slightly as his hips move with the rhythm of your hand.
“More what, princess?” He's asking as if he doesn't already know, the slow drag of his fingers enough to drive you insane. He doesn't show any signs of speeding up either, having too much fun teasing you.
Your eyes are finding Joon, the one that has always been sweet on you. Hitting you with a simple pout, silently begging him to implement his leader skills somewhere in here. Anything that would get you to your release quickly, you could already feel the dull ache growing between your legs.
One look is all it takes to have Joon rising to his feet, large hand pushing the soft hair back off his forehead. “You want all of us, huh, baby?” His words are making your eyes go wide, the opposite to be said about your walls that clench around Yoongi's fingers.
“Fuck, she just got so tight,” Yoongi announces, eyes lifting to land on Joon. That is all the confirmation that he needs to round the table, taking up space behind you. A hand set on your shoulder to pull your body back, just enough where he's able to reach your lips.
He kisses you hungrily, plush lips taking over yours. Wet tongue slithering past your lips and meeting yours, the moans Yoongi is able to pull from your lips are swallowed with each twist and push of the appendage. Jungkook rises across from you, instructing his hyungs to lay you down and you're still trying to keep your focus on Taehyung.
Thrusts have grown weaker, but the soft sighs still seem to fall from his lips. Obviously getting off on more than just the way your hand was able to make you feel. Joon is quick to follow the younger's request, pulling back from your lips as Yoongi pulls his fingers from inside of you. He's able to easily lift you onto the table, amazing you with the way he's able to handle you as if you weigh nothing.
You're laid out for them like the meal they just feasted on and they're looking at you like you're the most delicious thing. Yoongi's got his fingers pushed into his mouth, sucking your juices off the digits. Hands catch the hem of your shirt, you're not registering that it's Jungkook in front of you until the boyish chuckle leaves his lips at the sight of your bare breasts.
“So pretty, Noona.” He groans, soft lips latching onto your raised nipple. Teeth grazing over it as his hand reaches to pinch and twist the other one. Long fingers curl around your calves, lifting your legs and pushing them toward your chest. The soft suck around your clit has a pang of arousal shooting through your body, hips lifting.
A firm hand pushes your hips back down onto the table, thumb brushing against your hip bone lightly. “Be still for Hyung,” It's Yoongi's voice, don't even have to open your eyes to pick out his gruff drawl, which could only mean it's Jin who's between your legs.
Somehow, the twist of his tongue is exactly opposite to the swirl of Jungkook's on your chest. It's hard to keep up, hips fighting against Yoongi's grip – desperate to move closer, take more than Jin was willing to give you. The velvety brush against your lips as your eyes peeking open, eyes focusing on the flushed face of Taehyung.
Crouched over your head with his cock in hand, just inches from your lips. He looks strained, as if he's holding back from pushing his way into your mouth – you don't doubt that's exactly what he's doing. “Open your mouth for me,” He pants, brushing the tip of his cock over your lips again.
You're opening up immediately, head tilting back making it easier for him to slide his cock down your throat. A hand reaching back to grasp his hip, forcing yourself to get used to the odd feeling at this angle. Lips wrapping around the base, pulling a grunt from his lips. Despite the bold licks Jin delivers between your legs, you try to focus on sucking Tae off – trying to keep yourself from choking.
Jungkook has switched sides, moaning against your skin. Your throat constricts around Taehyung's shaft when Jin's thick lips wrap around your clit, sucking down harshly on the sensitive nub. “Ah, shit.” Tae groans, not being able to help himself from fucking deeper down your throat.
“Damn, you look so good, baby. Does it feel good?” It's Jimin's voice beside you. Taehyung is pulling back, the drag of his cock leaving your throat forcing a cough from his chest. Drool and precum dripping from your lips, head bobbing at Jimin's words. He grins, reaching for your hand.
You watch with watery eyes as he places soft kisses to your knuckles, grin stretching as he lowers your hand to his cock. “Feel what you do to me?” There's a soft whine behind his words when your hand moves against him. At the same moment, Jin is pushing two long fingers inside of you. Scissoring his way past your walls and your hips buck into his palm.
Yoongi's attention has shifted, grip loosened on your hip as his hand finds it's way back between your legs. Rolling your clit underneath the pads of his fingers, effectively adding to the pleasure that Jin's fingers bring you. Taehyung is pushing his way back into your mouth, eyes rolling to the back of his head when he sinks into the warm wetness.
His hand is reaching forward, set on toying with your breasts only to be met with the softness of Jungkook's hair. Gripping the strands between his fingers, he's quickly rocking his hips back and forth. Fucking his way to release with your distracted sucks. The tingle between your legs stealing most of your focus.
Tae's able to bring himself to release with the roll of his hips into your mouth, a slight hiss falls from his lips moments before he's filling your mouth with his thick cum. The warmth paired with the pressure between your legs is enough to push you over the edge, walls clenching almost painfully around Jin's fingers as your orgasm washes over you.
He fucks you through the whole thing, the pressure being lifted from your chest as your body tenses. Jin doesn't pull his fingers out until your body has fallen slack on the table. Taehyung's cock slipping from your mouth moments after and you're parting your lips to show off the fact that you've swallowed every last drop.
Jungkook's hands are quick to grip your hips, lifting your body off of the table. He holds you up as he shuffles, laying himself down on the table instead. It always amazes you how easily he's able to maneuver you in his arms, setting you on his lap. A whimper slips past your lips feeling the thickness of his cock against your thigh.
Not even bother to hide the way your hips roll against his, craving that friction between your legs. “You gonna let our youngest fuck you?” It's Hoseok's voice, crouched at your side, long dick clutched in his hand. “P-Please,” You sigh.
You're the center of attention and that fact alone is enough to have your skin burning. Eyes watching you hungrily, lips glistening from the orgasm Jin had just given you, panting and ready to be fucked for all of them to see. Jungkook doesn't waste a minute with slipping past your folds, wetting his cock with your arousal before he's pushing his way past your walls.
“Fuck, Noona.” He gasps once you're seated on him completely, buried inside of you to the hilt. Your thighs pressed on either side of his hips, large hands gripping your thighs. He gives you a moment to adjust to his length, a drawn-out moan falling from his lips as you begin to move over him.
Allowing him to slip out to the tip before you're lowering your hips back onto his. He groans, tips of his fingers pressing into your skin. He's holding back, you can tell. And all it takes is the sound of your breathy moans, encouraging him to move. His hips are snapping up, bouncing you on his lap. Tits bouncing in his face.
Just as his lips are catching one of your nipples, warm hands land on your ass. It's Taehyung behind you, using the grip he holds on the globes of your as to keep you steady. The bold swipe of his tongue over your puckered hole has your toes curling, moaning out loudly as you push your hips back.
Tae holds your hips steady as he licks into you, Jungkook's cock dragging against your walls. He doesn't let up, only growing rougher in his thrusts. A direct contrast to the sweet roll of Taehyung's tongue, the sensation has pleasure shooting throughout your core. Hoseok is still at your side and your hand is lifting to wrap around his shaft, pulling a hiss from his lips instantly.
“Mmh, baby.” He sighs, hips instantly moving along with the movement of your thrusts.
A euphoric feeling cruises through your veins with the more force Jungkook puts into his thrusts, jaw falling slack as your eyes flutter. Just barely focusing on the other men around you, Jin watching you with lust-filled eyes as he strokes himself to completion. Heavy breaths falling from Yoongi's parted lips as he palms himself over the fabric of his shorts.
Joon is making his way to you, sweats pushed down his legs. His thick cock gripped in his hand, glistening with precum. “Wanna feel your mouth. Think you can do that, baby?” You're opening up instantly, tongue pushed out welcoming him into your mouth. The velvety tip brushes against the roof of your mouth, long fingers curled in your hair to keep your head steady.
Mind all over the place and a bit overwhelmed with all this attention, you can't concentrate on sucking him off properly. Yet, he doesn't seem to mind. With the grip he holds on your head, Joon's able to easily buck his hips against your face, fucking his cock in and out of your warm mouth.
“You look so good, baby.” Jimin's close to you now and you don't hesitate to reach for him, hand wrapping around his length. Stroking him quickly, in time with the way you're working your hand over Hoseok. He's whining, gasping with each stroke of your hand. The roll of Jungkook's hips, the stretch of Joon in your mouth and Taehyung fucking his tongue into you has you tumbling over the edge quickly.
Muffled moans falling from your lips as your walls convulse around his shaft, thighs shaking as your body crashes onto him. Jungkook is not far behind you, releasing noisily against your thigh. Joon moves quickly to stand behind you, hand working over his shaft already close from having your mouth around him it doesn't take long before you're feeling the warmth of his cum splatter onto your ass.
Your quiet moans grow louder, mixing with the sounds coming from Jimin and Hoseok's mouths as they reach their climaxes, covering your back and hair. “You're so messy, Noona.” Jungkook points out with a laugh, words falling on sleepy ears. Eyes fluttering as you sink into the comfort of his chest spent.
Jin is reaching out after a moment of you laying there, the sexual haze seeming to fade away now after you've all reached your peaks. Soft hands wrap around your waist, carefully lifting you. “Let's get you all cleaned up,” He speaks in the softest of tones, carrying you all the way to the bathroom.
So comfortable in his arms as they pamper you, running a warm bath for you to soak in. Taking such good care of you as if you were precious. And to them, you were.
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- seven days in the forest spent with your seven boyfriends while they film their upcoming reality tv show. there’s no telling what the eight of you will get into when the cameras are off.
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gukyi · 9 months ago
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the love project | jjk
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summary: from running to mcdonald’s at 3am after a halloween party where the two of you dressed up as the teletubbies to timing how long it takes for him to drink a cup of monster mixed with mountain dew and iced coffee and then do fifty push-ups, you’re used to your best friend jungkook asking you to do all sorts of crazy things. but, of all the shit the two of you do, letting him follow you around for a week with a camera and take candid photos of you for a photography assignment might just be the craziest of them all.
{college!au, friends to lovers!au}
pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader genre: fluff, comedy word count: 12k warnings: college antics, hopeless pining, slow burn a/n: me: this fic will be 10k max! also me: actually nevermind on par for the course of this blog, i hope you enjoy this fic! it was so much fun to write and it definitely got me back into the ~writing mood~. more fics coming soon!
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These days, the weeks pass you by like trains on a platform. They whiz past you, the only discernible features being the beginning and the end of them, with the middle nothing but a blur. 
At least, that’s how it feels when you’re in college, and the days bleed into weeks bleed into months, and suddenly you’re one year closer to graduating, one year closer to figuring out what next to do with your life, even if you’re still missing that one general education requirement you forgot to take in your first year so now you’re trying to cram it into your schedule at the last minute.
Okay, you’ll admit it. Introduction to Astronomy is kicking your ass. That’s what you get for putting it off until junior year, when you’re supposed to have reached the point in your History major career where you don’t have to look at numbers anymore and the idea of doing basic math is absolutely unfathomable. History majors don’t do math. They just don’t. It vanished from your academic arsenal long before now, alongside your ability to interpret word problems and understand science textbooks. 
Perhaps in another universe, you would have actually retained those skills past high school, but that universe is not this one, and so your problem sets can solve themselves or not be solved at all. 
Your best friend would have to disagree.
“It’s not even calculus!” Jungkook exclaims over a mouthful of a Starbucks tomato and pesto panini, pointing to your laptop in exasperation, as if the answer has been staring you in the face for the past fifteen minutes. “It’s just algebra! All you’re doing is plugging the numbers into the formula and finding the missing variable!”
“Easy for you to say,” you huff, furiously erasing at the notebook in front of you as you get yet another incorrect answer. Who knew math could be so difficult? Oh, that’s right. You did. “You took that advanced differential equations class for fun last year. It’s not even required for your major. You’re just a masochist.”
“Says the person who convinced their advisor to let them take seven classes because they, and I quote, ‘all seemed so interesting’ and you ‘didn’t want to miss out.’” Jungkook rebukes pointedly. “Because your life would be so terrible if you didn’t take Economic History of Pre-Industrialized Europe.”
He’s got you there. Seven classes is a lot. In your defense, Economic History of Pre-Industrialized Europe was very interesting and you got a 4.0 that semester. So who is he to judge? Jungkook’s favorite pastime is pretending that taking three different computer science classes in a single semester isn’t going to single-handedly kill him.
Jungkook watches you struggle for a few moments more before he sighs, like he can’t take looking at someone so mathematically incompetent any longer. He stuffs the remaining third of his Starbucks panini into his mouth all at once like the ravenous beast he is before he reaches over the tiny table you’re sat at to look at your problem set himself. He turns your laptop towards him and grabs hold of your notebook, furrowing his eyebrows as he enters Work Jungkook Mode. 
Work Jungkook Mode is the mode of him you see most often during finals week or the rare occasions where you meet up to actually try and get work done. Work Jungkook has tunnel vision for whatever assignment is currently in front of him, which he will do either in one sitting or die trying. Work Jungkook lets his coffee get cold and forgets to answer your text messages, even when you’re sat right across from him and you know that he can see the notification on his laptop. Work Jungkook refuses to turn in anything that he hasn’t devoted his entire being to, even if it’s something as simple as a discussion board post. Some of his other friends say that when Jungkook is in Work Jungkook Mode, they won’t even try to contact him, lest their messages get lost in the flurry of his coding assignments. 
But you are not “some of his other friends.” You are his best friend. So rules do not apply to you. And Jungkook has long accepted that fact.
“Hey, don’t mess up my work—” You exclaim defensively, grabby hands reaching over the table to retrieve your notebook. “Wait, how did you do that?”
Jungkook scribbles something down in nearly-illegible font, determined to solve the problem in front of him. He thinks for a few more seconds before eventually jotting down an answer, circling it with his pencil. Holding the notebook out so both of you can see, he scoots his chair over to your side of the table, your shoulders pressed together in this tiny corner of the Starbucks, right by the bathroom, and explains, step by step, what he did. 
He does that for the following two problems in your set, walking you through the kind of math he was doing in freshman year of high school like it’s nothing, answering all of your stupid questions and giving you tips on how to finesse the system by taking as many shortcuts as possible. Teaching you things you never learned, or possibly had just forgotten. Things that a professor would think is idiotic to re-teach to a junior in university. Things that Jungkook wants you to know because he just wants you to have a little more faith in yourself. 
“Does that help?” He asks when he’s finished, still doubting his fantastic teaching abilities despite the fact that he just taught you more in the last thirty minutes than your professor has managed in a month and a half. 
“It actually does,” you tell him, pleasantly surprised. Looking back down at your notebook, what was once a shapeless blur of numbers, letters, and formulas is suddenly a clear and organized outline of each and every step to follow. “I didn’t know it was that easy.”
“Anything can be easy if you just commit yourself to learning how to do it,” Jungkook says, one of those random sentences that are too wise for a college student surviving off of RedBull and Starbucks food, the ones that always make you think Jungkook is secretly an immortal sage with life experiences far beyond your own. “Except coding. Which is hard no matter how good you are at it.”
“Aw, you can do it,” you rally, reaching up to pinch his chin in between your fingers and squeeze it tight. “It’s also too late to change your major now, so you’re stuck.”
“Wow, thanks for the encouragement,” Jungkook chides, hand coming up to rub at where you held his jaw, rolling his eyes. “You should let me help you with your Astronomy work more often. Gives me a break from Python.”
“I would have made you help me whether you liked it or not,” you tell him pointedly, because he is your best friend and he doesn’t get out of things as easily as he thinks he can. “But thanks. I’ll definitely take you up on that.”
“Of course,” Jungkook says with a good-natured grin, always so selfless and kind and giving. He practically signed himself up for a semester’s worth of TA-ing for Introduction to Astronomy despite the constant mountain of work he has himself. Just because it’s you. 
“My very own personal genius,” you muse, wrapping your hands around his arm and snuggling into his body, a whisper of a language only the two of you share. It’s something the two of you have long gotten used to, pressing your fingers all over each other’s bodies like it’s second nature. One of the things that makes you feel so certain about having Jungkook in your life. About wanting him to stay with you for the rest of time. “I’m never letting you go.”
Jungkook smiles, a warm hand coming to rest atop of your own. He breathes, in and out, chest rising beneath your touch. “Like I’d ever let you,” he says.
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There is no question about it. Jungkook is one hundred percent, absolutely, undoubtedly, positively, indisputably smarter than you are. It’s something that the two of you used to jokingly fight about (because Jungkook claims that he’s a bad essay writer, even though he’s not), but at this point it’s cemented in stone—he’s a damn genius. A genius who is inexplicably good at everything. A double threat. Triple, if you count the fact that he’s built beyond belief and could probably chuck you into next week if you really, really ticked him off. 
The truth is that, ninety percent of the time it is you who is going to Jungkook for help. Whether it be an assignment you need assistance on (namely Astronomy, because Jungkook probably couldn’t help you on your Mesopotamian artifact and primary source analyses despite his best intentions), a date that was a lot worse than you were hoping it would be, or even just the right coffee to order from that expensive place on the corner. Jungkook knows how to fix everything. 
So when Jungkook slides into the seat across from you in the food court after his Mastering Photography class with that I’m in trouble look on his face, you know something is horribly wrong. 
“Are you alright?” You ask, concerned as you watch him devour the sushi takeout in front of him, stuffing the spicy tuna rolls into his mouth like they’re Skittles. His camera hangs haphazardly out of his open backpack, like he barely had enough time to stuff it into the pocket while he was making his way here. There’s a worried expression written all over his face as he fumbles with the chopsticks in his hand, losing his grip on them every ten seconds. 
It’s not until Jungkook has finished the container of spicy tuna rolls in front of them that he finally seems to work up the courage to answer you. 
“My Photography class is gonna be the death of me,” Jungkook exclaims, exasperated. 
“I thought you liked it,” you comment unhelpfully. Jungkook had been so excited to be enrolled in it, because you needed a recommendation from a different professor and you had to submit a portfolio in order to join the class, making it one of those exclusive (and thus, much better) courses. Not to mention the fact that Jungkook is basically already a professional photographer if his Instagram is anything to go by. He’s going to walk out of university with a Photography minor whether he realizes it or not.
“I do,” Jungkook insists, even if right now it sounds like the two of you both need convincing of that fact. “But this project is ridiculous. I don’t even know how my professor expects us to have the time to finish it.”
“What do you have to do?”
Jungkook sighs. Just thinking about it seems to stress him out. “I mean, it’s only really a week long. So I guess it’s not too bad. But we’re supposed to compile a portfolio of the same subject, taken over the course of the week, with them in all sorts of different poses and lighting and locations, to express a personal theme.”
You scrunch your nose up in confusion. “I might be wrong, but isn’t that what photography… is?” You ask cluelessly. 
“Yes,” Jungkook argues, “but also no. Photography is taking pictures of things just for the hell of it. Not because they necessarily speak to a part of your soul. You just like the look of it. You want to capture the scene. That’s it.”
“Oh,” You say dumbly. 
“And our subject can be whoever or whatever we want, but he recommended choosing a person because taking pictures of our water bottles in different places is boring,” Jungkook huffs, though his professor does have a point there. Modern history wasn’t made out of photographs of store windows and miscellaneous items. It was made out of people, out of events in their lives that shaped the rest of the world, out of personal experiences that changed their point of view. “But I don’t even know anybody who would be willing to let me photograph them for a whole week! I’d basically have to follow them around like paparazzi!”
“I’ll do it,” you suggest casually, because it seems like the most obvious choice to you. There’s no one Jungkook spends as much time with as you. 
Jungkook’s eyes pop out of his head. “What?”
“I’m serious,” you insist. “Think about it. You need a subject for your project that you can photograph in a wide variety of places and over the course of a week. Who else do you spend that much time with, other than me?”
“Well..” Jungkook begins, trying to fight your reasons with his own. “Would you even be comfortable with something like that? I mean, I’m literally going to constantly be taking photos of you.”
“Like we don’t already do that on our phones,” you tease, having amassed quite the album of terrible Jungkook pictures over the years. 
“A camera is different from a phone,” Jungkook protests weakly. 
“Yeah, yeah, I know. But I’m just saying. It won’t bother me,” you say with a shrug. Why is Jungkook being so… weird about your suggestion? You thought he would be jumping at the offer, especially considering it means he won’t have to go out of his way to find and photograph someone else for this assignment. But he’s being rather hesitant. You watch as he glares down at his empty sushi takeout box, eyebrows furrowed in that thick, nervous way. “But you don’t have to,” you backtrack. “It was just a suggestion.”
He breathes in and breathes out, expression solid. Even from here you can see the cogs whirring in his brain, placing each and every potential result into a pro and con list inside his mind, trying to work out whether the benefits will be greater than the cost. 
Quite frankly, you don’t know what all the holdup is about. 
“You’re… sure about this?” He asks, looking up at you, determined to ensure your comfort. As if that’s even an issue. “You’re cool with being photographed and everything?”
“Only because it’s you,” you tease lightheartedly, expecting some sort of equally cheesy response. Instead, it makes Jungkook do something weird. He freezes in place, darting his eyes away from your gaze for a split second, collecting thoughts you can’t see. “Yeah,” you say loudly, trying to bring him back. “I’m fine with it.”
He inhales, exhales, closes his eyes, and opens them. “Okay then. I guess it’s settled. You’ll be my subject,” he declares, an almost unnoticeable wobble to his voice. It’s probably nothing, so you don’t think too hard about it.
“Can you at least pretend to be a little more excited about this?” You ask, jabbing him in the chest with a wooden chopstick. “It’s the first time we’ve ever gotten to be part of a project together!”
“Yay,” Jungkook says, lifeless. 
“How about a photo to commemorate it?” You suggest, reaching over to pull the camera out of his backpack, pushing it into his hands. “This can be the start of your portfolio.”
“Fine,” he eventually caves, bringing it up to his eye as he turns it on, twisting the lens to perfect the focus. Even caught off guard like this, he looks like a professional, like someone who was born to be behind the camera. He’s a computer science major but you know that photography will always be something special to him.
You strike a dramatic pose, holding your chopsticks out, one in each hand, with a wide, excited smile on your face. “How do I look?” You ask, scrunching your eyes together. 
Jungkook’s finger hovers over the silver button. “Perfect,” he tells you, voice soft and honest. 
Click.
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“So, how many photos are you supposed to take for this portfolio?” You ask as you flop around on Jungkook’s bed, pretending that the open tab on your laptop with your fifty-page reading doesn’t exist. You don’t even know why professors assign readings that long. Do they really expect you to read all of it?
From across his room, you can make out the top of Jungkook’s fluffy brown hair over his sleek gaming chair, one of the ones that look like high-tech airplane seats. “I don’t know,” he says. “He said at least twenty. And no more than fifty. Which really makes me wonder if someone once submitted like, one hundred photos for this project that he had to grade them on. But yeah.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad,” you say. When you’re around a cute animal, you can easily take twenty photographs. Granted, they aren’t exactly award-worthy photographs, but it’s not a physically demanding task. 
“Yeah,” Jungkook says. “Hypothetically you could finish it in a day. But it looks really obvious.”
“Well, how many do you have now?”
It’s been a day and a half since Jungkook agreed to let you be his so-called muse, but already you’ve lost track of how many photos he’s taken of you. He loves his camera, you know that, but you didn’t realize exactly how much he loves his camera. And with you as the sole subject for his project, he’s practically letting it hang from his neck all day long, just waiting for the right time to snap a photo of you standing in line at the food court, frowning at your textbook, or waiting to meet up with him. Every time he sees you he snaps a picture, even if the lighting’s bad, even if you haven’t had your morning coffee yet, even if it’s midnight and you look like a zombie. In his mind, there are no bad pictures. Just memories.
You wonder what the hell he sees in you. 
“A lot,” Jungkook answers unhelpfully, making no effort to elaborate on that statement. 
“Have you counted?” You ask, getting off of his bed to join him at his desk. 
Jungkook doesn’t seem to realize what you’re doing until you’re standing right next to him, placing a hand over his shoulders as you lean down next to him. He fumbles around for a second, the mouse slipping through his grip, and you catch a glimpse of one of the photos he’s taken of you, a sliver of your pursed lips, the wrinkles between your eyebrows. 
It’s from the library yesterday. You didn’t even know Jungkook had taken a picture of you there. You had a stupid reading to complete last night, one that made no sense and was terribly-written, and you spent an hour just trying to figure out what the damn argument was, and Jungkook captured it. You were there for an hour and Jungkook was there too, watching you like it was nothing, waiting for the perfect moment. He was there, sitting across from you, camera at the ready. You didn’t even hear it click. 
He closes it before you get a closer look at the photo, frantically hitting the little red dot at the top corner of the window before you have a chance to ask why. 
“What, I’m not allowed to see?” You chide, a little bit hurt but more confused than anything else. Why is Jungkook being so secretive?
“No,” Jungkook spits quickly. making you raise an eyebrow in alarm. “I mean, it’s a surprise. You get to see when it’s finished. I still have to… uh, edit. And stuff.”
“Edit? You think I’m that ugly?” You tease, knowing that he probably means color correction but enjoying the way that he gets all flustered when he hears your voice.
Jungkook’s eyes widen at that, like he just realized he made a wrong turn and is desperately backtracking. “What, no! I don’t—I don’t think you’re ugly.”
You laugh, letting the sound of your voice ease the tension in his shoulders, reveling in the way his big doe eyes seem to soften when he realizes you were just teasing. He looks like a kid caught stealing a candy bar from a gas station, looks like one of those boyfriends in the viral videos where the girl reveals that she got him a present or something instead, all nervous and full of explanations. 
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” you assure him, rubbing up and down his arm to soothe him, calm his heart down. “You don’t have to show me. I’m just excited. No one’s ever taken photos of me like this before.”
“I would,” Jungkook speaks up softly. “If you asked. I would.”
“I know,” You say. You’re not sure if there’s a thing in this world Jungkook wouldn’t do for you, and you, him. If he asked, you would pluck the stars from the sky for him. Bring him back a piece of the moon. Stop time. Anything. Everything. Just for him. “I know.”
 “What are you doing?” Jungkook asks, changing the topic as he whirls around in his gaming chair. 
“Just another reading, like always,” you dismiss, because you’re positive the last thing Jungkook wants to hear about right now is your primary source reading on irrigation techniques in agrarian Europe. You don’t even want to hear about it. “But I could use some help on Astronomy.”
Without another word, Jungkook gets up from his desk and the two of you head over to his bed, where an untouched problem set waits on your computer. He grabs a notebook from his backpack along the way before sitting down next to you on the edge of his bed, bodies pressed together. Slowly, he begins to coach you through each problem, step by step, drawing pictures and diagrams if he has to, until you finish all ten problems. 
The truth is, you didn’t really need help with this unit. Astronomy’s gotten a lot easier now that Jungkook has taught you the strategies to tackle it. But Jungkook sometimes feels like a ghost when he works, especially when he’s sitting at his desk, quiet and focused and almost invisible. And call you clingy, but you like it when you can look up and see his face instead of the back of a chair, a little tuft of wavy brown hair. You like it when he’s right beside you, in a place where you know you won’t lose him, where you can hold on if things get rough. Where you can see his stupid brown eyes and his goofy smile and know that he’ll always be there for you. 
When he’s finished, Jungkook doesn’t get back up to sit at his desk. He flops down on his back, staring up at the white ceiling of his room, eyes tracing the cracks. You join him, side by side, pretending that there’s something there. Looking up at the sky would be nicer, but it doesn’t really matter, so long as you’re with him.
“I didn’t know you took so many photos,” you say.
“I never want to miss anything.”
“You should give me more warnings, next time. I feel like I look so ugly in some of them.”
“No, you don’t. Don’t say stuff like that.”
“You don’t think I’m ugly?” You ask him, for real this time. It’s not that you think he’s going to say that he does, it’s that you want to know what he really thinks. How he really sees you. You turn your head to him, back pressed against his comforter, barely a foot apart. And he turns back to you, and he’s right there, right there in front of you, big brown eyes wide and blinking. He’s right there, how could you miss him?
“No,” Jungkook says, honest and true. He looks at you, looks right at you, right into you, and he muses to himself, chuckling. “Why would I ever think that?”
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At the end of the day, you can’t really be bothered to put on real pants in anticipation of Jungkook’s trigger-happy camera-taking tendencies. He’s seen you spill a boiling hot bowl of tomato soup all over yourself in the dining hall. He’s seen you at four in the morning in the library the night before finals begin, eyebags down to your knees and mismatched shoes on your feet. He’s seen you in the middle of a frat house, sweat dripping down your forehead and smelling of nothing but straight alcohol. Getting dressed up just for him would be antithetical to the very foundation of your friendship. 
You have, however, become keenly more cognizant in the last few days of when Jungkook is about to take a photo of you. Mostly because you glance up at your surroundings every three seconds to make sure you aren’t getting sniped from across the food court. Nobody else needs to see a picture of you picking up three pieces of sushi with your chopsticks and stuffing them all into your mouth at once. And, from what you can tell, you’ve been pretty successful, which either means you’ve gotten better at telling when Jungkook might be taking a photo of you, or Jungkook’s gotten better at hiding it. 
Either way, he’s got a lot more pictures of you reflexively flashing a peace-sign in his direction when you hear the telltale sound of his camera lens focusing, so you’re not really sure what that means for the fate of his portfolio. 
Besides your newfound hyper-awareness of the sound of a camera lens adjusting, the strangest part of you and Jungkook’s little project is how quickly the rest of your friends adjusted to this brand new dynamic. 
This is not to say this assignment is the weirdest thing you and Jungkook have done together, because there was once one week where you and Jungkook challenged each other to only eat bananas for every meal to see if anything would happen to either of you. Nothing did, but after that week you swore off bananas for the rest of your life and have had little appetite for them since. 
It’s more that your other friends have just accepted the fact that ridiculous, extravagant shenanigans are a necessary part of you and Jungkook’s relationship and have simply chosen not to question them anymore. At least, most of them have. 
“So, how’s you and Jungkook’s little photography fling going?” Maisie asks, and even through the phone you can hear the way she’s wiggling her eyebrows. 
“It’s not a fling, and it’s fine,” you hiss back, trying to keep your voice down as you pack up your belongings, phone pressed between your ear and your shoulder. “Stop speaking so loudly, everyone else in the library can probably hear you.”
“Good, because they’ve all probably noticed the way Jungkook’s been following you around like an unrestrained fanboy for the past four days taking pictures of you,” Maisie says pointedly, voice so sharp it causes you to look around at the other tables to make sure no one’s listening in. 
You frown, hoping your deadpan expression is audible through the phone. “It’s not like that and you know it.”
“Don’t you think it’s even a little strange that you’ve given Jungkook full permission to take photos of you like you’re a model and he’s some sort of weird, professional paparazzi?” You can practically see Maisie’s face in front of you, all wide eyes and raised eyebrows as she makes her point.
“No, it’s what we agreed on,” you remind her for the umpteenth time. There’s nothing weird about this. You’re helping him with a project, what more could it be? “Jungkook needed someone to take pictures of for his photography project and I thought it would be a good idea if I was that someone.”
“Hmm… wonder why…” Maisie trails off, deliberately vague and suggestive all at once. 
“You’ve been going on about this ever since Jungkook and I met, Maise,” you say with a roll of your eyes, tossing your backpack over your shoulder. “You know that Jungkook and I are just friends. Like we have always been.”
“Friends that take candid photos of each other under the guise of a project,” Maisie adds, and you can see the air quotes around the word “project” right in front of you.
“Friends that help each other out because that’s what friends do,” you correct. “You’re just going to have to accept the fact that Jungkook and I are always going to be just friends and nothing more. No matter how much money you’ve bet on us getting together.”
Maisie gasps. “I have not bet money on such a thing! This is slander!”
“Don’t think I don’t see you and Jimin’s damn Venmo history.” You pull up to the front desk of the library to check out a primary source book needed for one of your classes. It’s the first edition, and it’s battered beyond belief, but it’s better than paying for it. “Just this, thanks.”
“The only way you could convince me that you and Jungkook are just friends is if you go on a date or something,” Maisie comments snidely. “I don’t think I’ve seen either of you romantically interested in someone else the entire time you’ve known each other. Isn’t that proof enough?”
“You want me to go on a date with someone?” You demand, determined to get Maisie to hop off your ass about this. 
You and Jungkook are just friends. If swiping right with someone on Tinder and getting dinner and a movie with them is what will convince Maisie of that, then that is what you will do. It’s not as if being friends with Jungkook is mutually exclusive with you going out with other people. Should be easy, right? 
The boy behind the counter tells you your book is due back at the end of the semester, and you nod your thanks before heading out of the library.
“Fine, I’ll go on a date with someone. If it’ll get you to stop trying to convince me that Jungkook and I are gonna get married and have babies,” you declare, pushing your body against the door handles as you leave, five minutes to spare before your next class begins. 
“You guys would have really cute babies, I’m just saying,” Maisie points out like it’s nothing. 
You roll your eyes, taking the phone away from your ear as your finger hovers over the red button. “See you, Maise.”
You’re barely three steps out of the library, still rolling your eyes at the Call Ended screen on your phone when a voice catches your attention. 
“Y/N!”
You turn your head just in time to see Jungkook’s devilish grin disappear behind his camera, and you don’t even have time to blink before he begins snapping away, finger mashing the silver button at the top as your expression morphs from surprise to defeat, unable to counter his sniping abilities with a signature peace sign. Even from twenty feet away, you can hear Jungkook laughing as you take the opportunity to pose for a few moments, like you really are a model and he really is your personal photographer. The sound of his giggles fills the air, music to your ears, lingering between you like dandelion wisps, blown by the wind. 
Another voice breaks you from your trance. 
“And here we have our resident celebrity and her paparazzi,” Jimin says, motioning to the two of you as he speaks to an enormous tour group of potential applicants and their parents. Caught in front of them, the heat suddenly rushes to your cheeks as you instinctively cover your face, embarrassed to have been pointed out by Jimin, whose amicable, lovable personality is both a blessing and a curse when it comes to his part-time job as a tour guide. 
The worst part is how some of the parents and students seem to believe him for a second, that you really are famous and that Jungkook really is your photographer, looking at the two of you inquisitively as you shrink beneath their gazes. 
“I’m kidding,” Jimin quickly continues as Jungkook joins you where you stand, laughing at the way you look like a deer caught in headlights. “They’re just some friends of mine who we happened to catch outside the library, which is our next stop. But don’t they look so cute together?”
“Are you guys dating?” One of the students pipes up, asking what no one else dared to. 
Your eyes widen at the notion, wondering if you and Jungkook really are cursed to always be mistaken for a couple when you two have never been, and most likely will never be one. Shaking your head, you force out a laugh, “No, we’re just friends.” Beside you, Jungkook is noticeably silent. You suppose he’s gotten just as sick of explaining as you. 
“Bummer, right?” Jimin asks his group, earning a couple of disappointed nods from innocent high-schoolers that still believe in love. “But I’m working on that, so don’t worry. Anyway, this library will be your main destination for studying, book-reading, and everything in between, and is conveniently located two minutes away from the freshman dorms…”
The conversation finally drawn away from you and Jungkook, you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you had been holding in. “Weird, right? Even high-schoolers think we’re together.”
Jungkook doesn’t meet your eyes, fiddling with the settings on his camera just to keep his hands busy. The quiet makes you wonder what is going on up inside his head, makes you wonder what it is he’s thinking about, what it is you’re not seeing. Lately, it’s felt like there’s something on Jungkook’s mind you wish he felt comfortable telling you. 
“Hey, you alright?” You ask, giving him a little nudge with your side. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No,” Jungkook says, voice soft, barely audible. It doesn’t make you feel any better. “No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Don’t you have class soon?”
“Oh, shit, you’re right, fuck,” you say, checking your phone only to find you have barely a minute to get to your next class. Guess you’ll be using one of your allotted absences today. “Thanks for reminding me. Dinner tonight?”
“I’ll text you,” Jungkook promises, and you nod your agreement as you dash off, determined to turn a five-minute walk into a one-minute one with the power of exercise. As you leave, you watch as Jungkook flounders outside the library, staring down at his camera and scrolling through his photos, and you still find yourself feeling like you’re missing something. What is Jungkook not telling you? 
What do you not know?
By the time you reach your class, two minutes late and completely out of breath, tardiness is the last thing on your mind.
This project was just meant to be a friend helping out a friend. So why does it feel like you and Jungkook are losing each other?
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Using Tinder is easy. Dangerously so.
You’re no expert in app design, but its simplified “yes or no” mechanic has you swiping through people like it’s an extreme sport, barely giving some of them a second glance if their Tinder profile description doesn’t make you laugh within the first sentence. 
Tinder was, admittedly, not your first choice of potential date-finding methods. Call you old-fashioned, but whatever happened to asking someone in person if they wanted to get a meal with you? To showing up at their doorstep with a rose bouquet and a toothy white grin? Perhaps all of those old-timey movies you and Jungkook always watched have given you unrealistic expectations. But can you blame them? 
Even if Tinder wasn’t your first choice, it was certainly the fastest. It takes a second to look at someone’s designated Tinder thumbnail, two to read their description, and three to decide if they’re worth a swipe right. Compare that to actively meeting up with someone, getting their contact information, and then continuing to dance around each other until you finally decide to get dinner together. That’s the sort of thing that could take weeks. Maybe months. And in some cases, years.
Besides, it’s not like you had very many options at your disposal. You don’t trust Maisie to set you up with someone because she’ll probably just choose one of the many boys from her management class and call it a day. Asking someone yourself is absolutely out of the question. And, for some strange, unknown reason, the idea of getting Jungkook to hook you up with one of his friends just doesn’t sit right with you.
So, Tinder it is. And as it turns out, chivalry isn’t dead. It’s just archaic.
An hour into your mindless swiping, you get a message notification. Two hours after that, you’ve got plans with a nice senior boy whom you’ve never met. 
And for the first time in a very long time, there’s something to mark on your calendar for Saturday night.
The little blue block on your Google Calendar tab stares back at you from where your open laptop sits on your desk, the red line that signifies your current time slowly inching towards it as you fumble around in front of your mirror, more dressed up than you have been in weeks. Maisie was right. It’s been so long since you’ve gone out with someone that you’ve completely forgotten what the dress code is for something like this. A dress? Heels? Makeup?
You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks you will anyway. What if he’s wearing a hoodie and sweats while you look like you’re about to attend the goddamn Academy Awards? Maybe the eyeshadow was a little too much.
You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks it’s inevitable that you do. The door to your apartment swings open, and you can hear heavy footsteps making their way to your bedroom, that easy gait of his familiar as always.
“Hey, do you think we can just get some take-out and watch a stupid old noir movie, or something? I’ve had a day,” he shouts out, the sigh audible in his voice.
You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks you definitely have when you turn around to see Jungkook standing right outside your bedroom in the floppiest sweater you’ve ever seen and jeans with holes in the knees, mouth agape as he stares straight at you. It’s impossible not to notice the way his eyes are blown wide at the sight of you, at the way they rake up and down your figure, like he can’t even believe what he’s seeing. It’s impossible not to notice how he seems to flounder at the sight of you.
The only thing that breaks the both of you out of your stupors, frozen in place like two criminals caught red-handed, is the sound of his hulking black backpack thudding to the floor. 
“Whoa.”
“Do you think it’s too much?” You ask, voice wobbly. God, why are you so nervous? It’s just Jungkook. 
“Too much for what?” Jungkook blinks, deliberate and slow, as if he’s determined to make sure his eyes aren’t deceiving him. “Where are you going?”
“I think we’ll have to do a raincheck for the noir movie and takeout,” you say sheepishly, pursing your lips together in fright as you force out a small, tense smile. “I’m… going out. With someone.”
“Like,” Jungkook begins, and even from here you can hear the way he stops himself, hear him breathe out every word, thick on his tongue. “On a date?”
“Yeah.”
It’s a one-syllable word and yet it takes nearly all of your willpower just to say it. Just to confirm what Jungkook’s already thinking. Just to tell him, your best friend, your ride or die, your number one, that you’re going out on a date. 
“Oh.” Jungkook’s voice is lifeless. “Do I know them?”
“No, uh, it’s just some guy I met on Tinder. I don’t know, I just wanted to see what all the hype was about, I guess. And I haven’t really been on a date in a while, so I figured I might just take up the opportunity, so we’re probably just going to go out to a restaurant and maybe go to a club afterwards if we’re still in the mood, and—” You cut yourself off, so nervous that you’ve resorted to your terrible habit of rambling to try and ease the tension. “Why? Do you think it’s too much?”
“You use Tinder?” Jungkook asks instead. It sounds like he’s shocked to hear this. 
“Yeah…” you trail off. “Why?”
Jungkook freezes at the question, but it’s not because it seems like he doesn’t have an answer. It’s because it seems like he does. Only it’s an answer he doesn’t want to share. 
“Nothing, it’s nothing,” he eventually settles on, shaking his head. “You, uh, you look good.”
“You think? I feel like it’s a lot. I don’t know how to dress appropriately for stuff like this anymore,” you ask, palms sweaty as you furiously straighten out the skirt of your dress. “Should I change into pants, or anything?”
“No, no, I think that’s fine,” Jungkook says with an honest smile. “You look nice like this.”
“It’s probably been like, a year since you last saw me in a dress,” you comment mindlessly, turning back to face the mirror as you fiddle with your makeup, finger wiping away a bit of smudged lipstick or a stray bit of mascara. “I miss my sweats. Hey, whoa, wait, what are you doing—?”
You whip around to find Jungkook slowly fishing out the camera from his backpack, hand gripping it tightly as he brandishes it in front of you. 
“I, um, I just wanted to see if I could maybe take a photo of you,” Jungkook says, a small, little grin decorating his features. “Since you’re all dressed up.”
“Seriously?” You ask in disbelief. 
Jungkook nods, holding the camera out in front of him. “Just one.”
He looks so small, standing across your bedroom. He looks so small and delicate and intimate, body curled in on itself ever so slightly as he looks at you, the yellow glow of your ceiling light reflected in his hazelnut eyes, drowning beneath his clothes. He looks like he has never seen a moment more perfect, never seen an opportunity as clear, looks like he thinks that if he blinks he’ll miss it. 
Looks as if a photo will be the only way to remember it. 
And you nod. Because he is your best friend, and who are you to deny him of something so simple? Of a press of a button? It doesn’t feel like a project anymore. It just feels like a memory. 
Jungkook brings the camera to his eye, and you smile at him, soft and gentle and warm. He grins back, focusing the camera lens before snapping away. 
You wonder what he sees. 
(You wonder if it’s as beautiful as what you see.)
“Have fun tonight, okay?” Jungkook asks of you as your Google Calendar notification sounds, letting you know you have approximately two minutes before he’s supposed to pick you up outside your apartment.
You nod. “I will. And if I don’t, then I’ll come over afterwards. And we can watch that stupid noir film.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Jungkook says with a roll of his eyes, a shrug of his shoulders. 
“But I want to. So I will. Okay? I’ll text you,” you promise. “Don’t think I’ll forget about you.”
Jungkook smiles at your little tease, at the way you cup the side of his jaw with your hand as you head towards your front door. 
“Wait, Y/N,” Jungkook sputters out, running after you. He reaches you right as you get to the door, hand grasping the doorknob. You turn to look at him, blinking. “I hope tonight is everything you dreamed of.”
There is something so distinctly sad in his voice. It makes you wonder who has broken his heart. Makes you wonder what you can do to fix it.
“Even if it’s not,” you say to him, taking his hand in your own and squeezing it tight, reminding him that, no matter what, you’re still here. “I know you’ll always be there to take care of me afterwards.”
Your phone buzzes with a message from your date, and you scurry out the door. 
For some reason, there’s a part of you that wishes you never even left. 
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The date is okay. Not bad, but nothing to write home about. By the time you finished eating, it was obvious neither of you had any interest in continuing the night elsewhere, whether it be a club or a karaoke bar. He pays for your meal despite your insistence that you can handle the check perfectly fine on your own, thanks you for a nice night, and drops you right back at your apartment. And so goes your one and only Tinder experience, blowing away like a leaf in the wind. 
You look down at your phone. It isn’t even nine o’clock yet. 
[November 7th, 8:48PM]
You: you still game for that movie?
[November 7th, 8:50PM]
Jungkook: you finished your date already?
You: is that a yes or a no
Jungkook: my door is always open, you know that
You: you’re gonna get robbed one day and it’s gonna be by me You: i’m coming over
The walk from your apartment to Jungkook’s is six minutes and thirty seconds on a good day, and seven minutes and fifteen seconds on a bad day, which is usually dependent on if the traffic light over the main road has decided to be extra slow or not. You could walk the damn route in your sleep if you really wanted, having done it so many times in the last year and a half, ever since he moved out of on-campus housing and into his own place.
Tonight, it takes you nearly eight minutes to get to his apartment, but you mostly chalk that up to the heels you’re wearing. If you cared any less about your dignity, you’d probably take them off and walk barefoot like a defeated heroine in a romance movie, shoes dangling from your fingers as they hang low by your side. 
But you aren’t defeated. You didn’t have the world’s most spectacular date, but the night isn’t over just yet. 
Jungkook’s waiting at his front door by the time you arrive. 
“Eight minutes, huh? You’re getting old,” he asks snidely, looking down at the invisible watch on his wrist. 
“Your counting is just off,” you retort easily, falling into that same friendly rhythm, that familiar little beat that the two of you share. You push past him and into his apartment, instantly feeling more at home, shoulders sinking and heartbeat soothing as you soak in the scent of his room, of his home, of him. 
“How’d it go?” Jungkook asks, eyes hopeful as they watch you tug off your heels. They were hardly three inches tall and yet you still want nothing to do with them. 
You shrug. “Eh. It was okay.”
“Just okay?” Jungkook asks, sounding seriously upset for you. Upset that you didn’t have a good night even after you promised him that you would. Upset that it didn’t turn out to be everything you wanted. 
“I don’t know,” you admit, looking over at him, dejected. “It just—I just had this feeling that it wasn’t going to work out.”
Jungkook scowls to himself, eyebrows furrowing like he’s trying to figure out what exactly you mean by that. And the truth is, you’re not sure either. The date was fine, and he was nice, but even when you first met it felt like you weren’t going to get what you wanted from him. Like you were just going on the date to go on the date. Like you already knew that it would mean nothing. 
Jungkook was going to be waiting for you at the end of the night whether it went amazingly well or terribly bad. And knowing that, strangely enough, almost made you want the date to be horrible. Like it would make seeing Jungkook afterwards that much sweeter. 
“Oh,” Jungkook says lamely. “Well, I’m sorry. It seemed like you were really looking forward to it.”
“It’s alright,” you assure him. “Can we just watch this movie now and make fun of how sexist it is? Please?”
To that, Jungkook easily agrees. As he’s queueing up the movie, you raid his closet for a hoodie and sweatpants, desperate to strip yourself of your dress and tights and cozy up in clothes that are much more appropriate for your comfort level. At this point in your friendship, Jungkook doesn’t even question it when he sees you march into his room, fishing through his closet and drawers for your favorite matching set of his, this grey pair that he’s worn so much it still smells like him even after it’s come right out of the wash. 
He only stares back in awe when he sees you emerge from his bedroom wearing them. 
“Ready?” You ask, breaking him from his resolve.
Jungkook blinks wildly from where he’s seated on his dinky old couch, as if to clear his vision. “What? Oh, yeah, I’ve been waiting for you.”
“Then hurry it up, Mister,” you demand, sitting down next to him and curling into his body. It’s instinctual, at this point, wanting to be close to him. To feel the warmth of his body radiate upon your own. To feel his chest beneath the palm of your hands, his arm wrapped around your side. “All good?” You ask, looking up at him. 
Jungkook looks down at you, and you swear, you’ve never seen him more at home. “Always, when I’m with you.”
The movie is predictably good and predictably sexist, but your favorite part by far is when Jungkook reaches around on the coffee table in front of you for his camera, holding it up to his eye and snatching a picture of the television, the film grainy like an old polaroid, faded like an antique photograph. He clicks away at the scene in front of him before turning on you, the lens so close to your face you’re almost certain all he’ll manage to capture is your nose. You laugh, pushing yourself away from him as he snaps, and snaps, and snaps, image after image after image, until his camera battery has died and there’s no more room left on his card. 
“Guess I’ll have to charge this thing, then,” Jungkook sighs as he declares his camera dead, screen black. 
“You aren’t going to include any of those, are you?” You ask, an eyebrow raised. 
Jungkook shrugs. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Don’t you have enough?” You deadpan, thinking back to the hundreds of photos Jungkook must have taken of you over the past week, and even more that you don’t know about. There’s certainly no shortage of them in his current camera inventory. That’s for sure. 
“Never,” Jungkook says wickedly. He stretches out an open arm, and you don’t have to think twice about falling into it, letting him wrap you up in his hold, curling into his body. 
The black television screen crackles before you, DVD player waiting for Jungkook to turn it off. There’s no need for either of you to look up at each other. Not when you’re strung together like this. Not when you already know exactly where he is. 
“It’s due on Monday, right?” You inquire softly, fatigue slowly overtaking you. 
“Yeah. I’m almost finished, just have to do some curating and editing.”
“I want to see it.”
“What? My project?”
“What else?”
“It’s just a project, it’s not that exciting.”
You pull away from him at that, looking up at him with furrowed brows and scrunched-up nose. “What do you mean ‘it’s not that exciting’? It’s your photography project. You’ve spent a whole week working on it.”
“Yeah, but it’s just you, you know?” Jungkook objects. “Like, you know what you look like. It’s just going to be a bunch of photos of you, like I said it’d be.”
“That’s exactly why I want to see it,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You took pictures of me for a whole week. Don’t you want to share them with me?”
“If you really want some of the photos, I’ll send you some, but you don’t need to see the whole portfolio, you know? It’s just for my professor,” Jungkook says stiffly, surprisingly resistant. What’s the big deal? It’s not like there will suddenly be new information about you that you didn’t know before. You want to see what Jungkook has been working tirelessly on this entire week. Where’s the harm in that?
“Why are you getting so hung up on this? It’s just photos,” you say with a frown. 
“Why are you getting so hung up on this?” Jungkook challenges back. 
You sigh, sinking back into him, defeated. Even a little disagreement like that is enough to knock the wind out of the both of you, so you decide not to push it much further. 
“Do you promise to show me eventually?” You ask, hopeful.
Jungkook pauses for a moment, and you almost expect him to say no, considering how protective of his work he’s being. “One day,” he declares. “One day, I will.”
And that’s good enough for you. 
You lose track of how much time passes after that, feeling your eyelids getting heavy as the warmth of his body envelopes you, drowsiness settling in. There’s just something about this moment, right here, right now, that makes you want to fall asleep.
You’re on the verge of slumber when Jungkook’s voice breaks through.
“Why didn’t you think your date would work out?”
“I don’t know,” you respond sleepily, barely even opening your eyes. “It just felt wrong.”
“How do you know what feels right?”
Good question. Perhaps if you had the energy, you’d answer it. But right now, all you can think about is how cozy you feel in Jungkook’s hoodie and sweatpants, how the scent of him surrounds you, that indescribable, boyish aroma that can’t be replicated. Right now, all you can think about is how easily your body molds into his, like two pieces of a puzzle meant to fit together. Right now, all you can think about is him. 
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The worst part about each and every week is when it ends. Because the end of one week signifies the beginning of the next, and when you’re in university, the beginning of the next week means a whole new batch of assignments that you have to complete and a whole new batch of due dates to meet. 
So, yeah. The weeks have been blurring together for you lately. But what else could you expect?
Sunday evening, as per usual, finds you right back where you always are: Jungkook’s apartment. 
The two of you have been regularly getting together on Sundays to study, ever since you both realized you work significantly harder when motivated by the other, determined to finish all of your work on time so you can spend the rest of the night fooling around by mixing Monster with as many unhealthy drinks that you can possibly think of. And it’s been working out well for the both of you so far. Jungkook powers through his coding assignments and you whiz through your readings, intent on keeping up to date with your tasks so they don’t all come crashing down on you at the end of the semester. 
Studying with Jungkook has always been easy, largely due to the fact that it’s the one allotted time during your friendship where the both of you deem it best to not speak to each other for the sake of your work. The moment one of you opens your mouth it’s over, so you sit on opposite ends of the room and pretend that the other person isn’t even there. 
Jungkook told you earlier today that he had already finished his photography portfolio, so there would unfortunately be no sneaky glances over his shoulder to see if you can catch a glimpse of one of the pictures. Which is fine by you, you’re just a little embarrassed that Jungkook had told you this outright. Not that you were planning to do exactly that, but you were planning to do exactly that. 
Part of you. more than anything, wants to know why Jungkook won’t just show you himself. Why he’s being so secretive, so protective of his photography project when you both know already exactly what’s in it. For God’s sake, he just spent the entire week taking photos of you non-stop. It’s like not as if any part of this is a mystery to either of you. What more could he have done?
Whatever. You aren’t going to force it if he doesn’t want you to. You suppose that maybe one day, far into the future, he’ll finally decide that the time is right. 
“I’m so fucking tired,” Jungkook declares lifelessly as he gets up from where he’s sitting on your bed, dead inside. “I need a break.”
“Are you going to the kitchen? Can you make me some tea, please?” You ask him, looking up from the laptop on your desk. 
Jungkook nods wordlessly before disappearing out of the room. 
You and Jungkook’s best study practice to maximize productivity is the taking of each other’s cell phones so that the other cannot be tempted to look at it. It’s worked plenty of times before and will probably work plenty of times again, because as they say, out of sight, out of mind. 
Unfortunately, it’s hard to pretend that your phone is out of sight when it’s been buzzing on your bedside table for the past five minutes, and your fingers have been itching to get over there and answer your damn notifications. So, while Jungkook is out of the room, you decide to cheat a little by dashing over there just to see what the heck is going on in the rest of the world. 
As it turns out, nothing much. Just Maisie texting you as she binges yet another television show, giving spoiler-free updates anytime anything remotely dramatic happens. You have a couple of new emails as well. 
The thing that actually catches your attention the most, is Jungkook’s laptop screen. 
There’s just a Word document open on it, but a Word document is a far cry from his usual coding program or Photoshop. Because you can’t help yourself, you peer over to see what he’s written. 
What did you learn about yourself through this assignment? How do you think you’ve changed?
Hard to say that I have. I don’t think I learned something about myself so much as I confirmed what I already knew, cementing it as a real thought in my brain, rather than just a daydream. Nothing changed in the way that my best friend and I interacted, and I can almost confirm that nothing changed in the way that she feels about me, just as nothing changed in the way I feel about her. I guess you could say I learned that I don’t think anything could ever change the way I feel about her. 
What?
Do you think you’ll ever look back on this project, whether it be as a reference or a memory?
Yes. Not as a reference but to remind myself of this very moment in my life—a single week over the course of my life that I felt was worth saving. I imagine that there will come a time, far in the future, where my best friend and I have separated a little bit, found our own lives and created our own families with our own people. And when that happens, I will look back on this project to remind myself of who we used to be. How we used to feel about each other. Maybe, by that point in time, it won’t hurt as much as it does now. 
This feels personal. Maybe you should stop reading. But there’s just one more question left on the page… 
This assignment forced you to create an entire portfolio, from scratch, using a subject you would have to regularly schedule time with. It was demanding. But, that said, would you ever do this again?
Yes. If it meant getting to spend more time with her, take more photos of her, see her smile once more, I would do it a thousand times over. 
“Y/N?”
You hadn’t even heard the kettle whistling. 
“Jungkook,” you say, breathless, caught red-handed. 
“What are you doing?” He asks, placing your steaming cup of tea down on the desk as he stares back at you in horror, in surprise, in worry, in something. Something that gives you this imminent sense of impending doom. 
“Uh—”
“Were you reading my computer screen?”
It’s not like you could say you were doing anything else. 
“I couldn’t help myself, I came over here to check my phone since it’s been buzzing like crazy and your computer was right there and I just…” you sputter out, thoughts swirling inside your head. 
(I will look back on this project to remind myself of who we used to be. How we used to feel about each other. Maybe, by that point in time, it won’t hurt as much as it does now. 
If it meant getting to see her smile once more, I would do it a thousand times over. 
I guess you could say I learned that I don’t think anything could ever change the way I feel about her.)
“What do you mean, how you feel about me?” You ask, because you can’t help yourself. Because the sound of his voices echoes in your head like the beat of a drum, over and over and over. Because you’re staring back at him and even if he just caught you snooping through his computer you can never be worried when it comes to him. Because everything he has ever done puts you at ease. 
“Y/N, that is private, why would you read something like that?” He asks, each word a sucker punch into your heart. 
“Because I just had to know, okay?” You shout back. “I had to know what you were hiding from me.”
“So you decided to snoop through my computer to see if you could figure it out yourself?” He demands, storming over to you. 
“So you are hiding something?”
“That’s not the point, the point is that—”
“What are you not telling me, Jungkook?” You cry out, watching as he approaches you, dark eyes piercing your gaze. “Why won’t you show me your goddamn portfolio? If there’s really nothing to be afraid of, why are you keeping it from me? I’m your best friend, I’m the fucking subject of your project? Don’t I deserve to see it? Why won’t you show me?”
“Because then you’d know!” Jungkook shouts back, leaving deafening silence in his wake. You look up at him, blinking. In front of you, Jungkook is out of breath, chest heaving. 
He looks so strained. So tired. Like he’s been carrying around this secret for months now, maybe even years, and this is the final straw. This is what has sent the both of you crashing down upon each other. This stupid fucking project. You’ve known Jungkook ever since the beginning of your freshman year, and never before have you seen him so hopeless. 
“Jungkook—?”
“You’d know, goddamnit,” Jungkook says, hand coming up to rub at his forehead, dragging down his cheek. “And I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that.”
“Know what? What would I know?” 
Jungkook closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath. Opens them again. “That I’m in love with you.”
The words drift in between the two of you, hovering in the air like feathers. You see them, clear as day, in front of you, hear them echoing in your head, over and over and over again. Feel the way your blood is pumping, the way your heart is beating. 
“You’re in love with me?” You ask him. 
“I didn’t want you to find out this way,” Jungkook admits. “Or at all, really. But I have been, for a while now.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was afraid that I’d lose you.”
You chuckle, a small, little thing from the back of your throat. “You must have known I’d never let that happen, hmm?”
Jungkook smiles softly. “I was scared. Can you blame me? You’re my best friend.”
“And you are mine,” you remind him. 
“It’s just—” Jungkook begins, like the gates of a dam are opening up. “We’d known each other for so long, and we have such a good thing going as is, always texting and calling and hanging out together, studying together on Sunday nights and seeing each other during the week, and I didn’t want to ruin anything. And then my professor assigned this project, and the only person I could think of to take photos was you, but I didn’t want to ask that of you in case you thought it was weird, but you suggested it anyway so I said yes, but I knew. I knew then that the moment I took one goddamn photo of you it would be obvious, and that if you ever saw you would just know. Stuff like that is easy to pick up in pictures, because a camera is like, tunnel vision for whatever it is you want to focus on most, and that’s you, that’s always been you, so I—”
“Jungkook,” you interrupt, reaching out to him, pressing a soft hand to his cheek. “Just, shut up, okay?”
And then you cup his head in both of your hands, and press a kiss to his lips. A small one, if nothing else, but a kiss nonetheless. You press your lips against his own and immediately you feel the sparks rush through you, this flash of heat that settles into something softer, something sweeter. It ignites and soothes you all at once, like a stray lightning bolt out on the open ocean. Like a single clap of thunder and the pitter patter of rain. 
You press a kiss to his lips and when you pull away, Jungkook’s eyes are closed, lips parted ever so slightly. And for a moment there, you almost think you did the wrong thing. 
But barely a second more passes before he’s scooping you up in his arms and pulling you in close to him, his lips finding yours like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. He holds you tight, hands pressed against the small of your back as he kisses you, warm and fiery and full, as if he can’t get enough, as if this is his only chance. You gasp into it before relaxing in his hold, cold hands on his warm cheeks, body melting at the feeling of him, of him all over you, of his hands and his mouth and his chest, this perfect, solid figure. 
He kisses you and it sends heat shooting through your body, filling you up from the inside out, like your heart has burst and filled your bloodstream with fire, with sparks of warmth that tingle all over. He kisses you, and everywhere his hands press is another sizzle to your skin, an electric shock that makes you giggle into his mouth. 
He kisses you and it feels like a storm has settled, feels like gentle rain after a hurricane, feels like waves crashing against the shore. He kisses you and it is the only thing you can think about. 
By the time you part once more, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Jungkook so blissed out. 
“See?” You point out softly. “Nothing to be afraid of.”
Jungkook looks positively dazed. “I think I need to lie down.”
“Ooh, was I that good?” You tease.
“I’m dreaming.” He shakes his head. “I’m definitely fucking dreaming.”
Jungkook sinks onto your bed, hitting the mattress with a thud. He stares mindlessly in front of him, like his brain needs time to process. 
You smile to yourself. He can have all the time in the world. 
“Is this real?” He mumbles when you sit down next to him, press another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Are you real?”
“Just like you,” you promise him. “I didn’t know this is what we had been missing, all this time.”
“It wasn’t missing,” Jungkook assures you. “It was just hidden.”
“I love you,” you whisper, watching him swallow the words like a glass of wine. “I think I always have. You just needed to say it first.”
“Oblivious as always.” Jungkook grins, smiling against your lips. “But I’m glad. If this is what it would take, then I’m glad.”
“You wouldn’t change anything?” You ask him, eyes wide and curious. 
It’s hard to know how long you and Jungkook have been secretly pining over each other. Hard to know how long Jungkook has known that he’s loved you, how long it’s been since you started to feel the same, even if subconsciously. It’s hard to know how long you would have kept going if not for this project. It might have been months. Years. Years that Jungkook was willing to spend holding back, if only it meant keeping you by his side. 
“No,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest answer in the world. “I have you now. Why would I?”
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What did you learn about yourself through this assignment? How do you think you’ve changed?
Previously, I had responded to this question by saying that I hadn’t learned anything, and felt that nothing changed in my life. Then, some things happened. And after those things, I learned that I am the luckiest man alive. To know my best friend is one thing. To love her is a privilege. To have her love me back is nothing less than a miracle.
Do you think you’ll ever look back on this project, whether it be as a reference or a memory?
Yes. Every day for the rest of my life. I don’t think I’ve ever been as thankful to receive a homework assignment as I am, right now. I owe everything to this project. It is the reason I have her. 
This assignment forced you to create an entire portfolio, from scratch, using a subject you would have to regularly schedule time with. It was demanding. But, that said, would you ever do this again?
Yes. I want to take photos of her for the rest of my life. I want to save every memory we ever share together. So that far into the future, we can look back on them together and say, “Remember that?”
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↳ links are broken, but don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!
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adonis-koo · 6 months ago
Text
Strictly Business
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↳ Summary: When the price of your apartment shoots through the roof, you and your roommate become desperate for money and go to extreme measures to make it possible to afford living there. But it’s all strictly business in the end. Right?
↳ Genre: porn with some plot if you squint, it’s a pornstar AU essentially, sex worker au??? Roommates AU, it’s all platonic, or is it?
↳ Pairing: Jungkook/Reader
↳ Word Count: 13k
Tags: dom!kook, sex tapes obviously, dirty talk, pussy slapping, good girl!MC, sir kink, degradation, like if you aren’t into degradation just skip, vaginal fingering, size kink 😌, a little dumbfication, ruined orgasm, breath play, oral (m & f), sex toy, overstimulation, bondage, theres elements of BDSM but not hardcore,
Note: I never thought I’d write pwp ever but here we are you horndogs, I feel like this Oneshot probably deserves a part 2 tbh
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“What!?” 
Jungkook cringed at your shouted words, you hadn’t meant to of course. Truth be told, you didn’t really know your roommate that well. But he was good in terms of keeping the apartment fairly clean, he was quiet, never brought any one night stands home. You did the same. But outside of talking over bills, a few mutual friends and occasionally watching a movie together you both didn’t really hang out much.
“...Look I know,” Jungkook sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, “They just spiked rent last month too…Maybe we should look for a different place?” He offered as you slumped on the couch. This place was perfect though, it was close to campus, close to your and his work and all while in range of plenty of fast food restaurants and the grocery store. You couldn’t get any better than this.
The apartment was already rather pricey when you and Jungkook found it, but you both made enough together that with that and making sure to grocery shop together it would be fine. But then your tenant had retired and gave his business over to his son who had spiked the rates last month and to be fair he warned he was doing a finalized rent this month but still…
Five hundred extra? How could you afford nine hundred rent a month when both you and Jungkook worked regular college level jobs? 
“I’m sure we could but…” you frowned as you fumbled with your fingers, “It won’t be nearly as close to campus or work…” 
Jungkook didn’t like the idea anymore then you but...what other options were there? He sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, “Well let’s not worry about it tonight. I’ll start looking for other places. Who knows, maybe we can find somewhere better.” He offered you a tiny smile that you weakly returned before sighing, lips quivering before you stood up, running a hand through your hair before going back to your room, looking rather upset.
Jungkook frowned before sighing as his gaze lingered in your direction before making his way to his room. Jungkook began his search for different apartments but much to his irrigation everything was either the same price which neither of you could afford or it was nearly a half hour drive to uni. 
It was well into the early morning until Jungkook eventually gave up all together, to make matters go from bad to worst he inhaled sharply in annoyance at the strained feeling of his cock strapped inside the confines of his jeans he had yet to change out of. Seriously? He looked down at the bulge in his pants that decided to greet him at nearly twelve at night.
He looked back at the house listing before back at his pants he clacked his tongue exiting out of the page, seeing as he obviously wasn’t going to find any apartment options tonight and he had a raging boner he knew he could at least fix one of these things.
Kicking off his jeans he sighed in relief before typing away on his computer, putting on his headphones as he eagerly scrolled through Playhub.
Instead of finding a good video to jerk off too he paused at the side bar that usually held porn ads, instead it was advertisement for working on playhub...Jungkook gritted his teeth together, ignoring his hardened cock that was throbbing in need to be touched as he clicked on the ad...Maybe this night wasn’t such a bust…
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Should he tell you? He felt nervous as you finished up drinking your smoothie, you were getting ready for work this morning, your hair tied up and you still looked pretty tired. Jungkook felt himself gulp, staring without even realizing it. But the longer he stared the more he felt his ears burning, sure he thought you were pretty when he first met you but…
“Are you okay?” He jumped at your soft voice, tilting your head a little as you glanced at your roommate, feeling slightly odd given he was usually still in bed or was already on his way to work, or even class. It was rare you shared breakfast together. Jungkook swallowed thickly as he rapidly shook his head without even meaning too. He was trying to get the courage to bring up his solution to you.
“Y-yeah I’m good!” Jungkook flashed you a strained smile but he was positive his cheeks were flushed. You pressed your lips together but said no more as you glanced back down at your phone. Jungkook could feel himself slump a little, he usually wasn’t this nervous around girls, god he felt like he was in middle school again. 
But again, he had never thought of you in this way before...I mean sure...Jungkook was a man, he had thought about it a time or two in passing thought. But he had never extensively thought about it. About you. About having sex with you. And it was frighteningly arousing, he wouldn’t lie. Had he always been so blind to how tight your sleep shorts were? Or how short they really were and how they strapped against your ass? 
Or the way you’d flash him timid sweet smiles when you’d pass one another in the house. Jungkook was thinking with his hormones now. But still...if he was going to do this, he wouldn’t want anyone else to be his partner going into it. 
Before he knew it his opportunity was gone as you left the table making him groan in defeat. To be fair it wasn’t exactly an easy question; ‘Hey would you consider making porn with me since we’re desperate to pay rent and can’t afford to stay anywhere else?’
Because that conversation could go well...Jungkook didn’t even know your favorite color, how the fuck was he supposed to go about this? He nibbled against his lower lip as he sunk in his seat, this was going to be more challenging then he anticipated…
Jungkook has spent most of his day at work mopping around and fretting about how bad your reaction could be, the worst would be making things awkward but...that wasn’t going to solve anything and this was a solution...sorta...It could also flop but this could work! Jungkook knows it can! 
He continued to affirm himself the whole day and even when he got off shift at nine o’clock at night and headed home. Yes! He’d go and he’d ask you if you were willing to do this because you both needed rent money by the 29th and that wasn’t going to happen unless you did something this something just so happened to be porn…
Jungkook gulped a little as he took his shoes off at the entrance before headed inside, making himself some cup noodles as he tried to calm himself. 
What Jungkook didn’t expect was for you to come out of your room, sweatpants hiding the nice sight of your thighs but the tank top was loose and low enough to spot the lacy bralette you sported that Jungkook never looked twice at until now. God he felt like a total pervert! He could already feel his ears turning red as he hurriedly slurped his noodles trying to ignore your figure the way you bent down to grab juice from the fridge.
You were about to leave when Jungkook jumped the opportunity, “Um-! Y/n!” He almost yelped, wincing at his tone. God why did he sounded like he was going through puberty again.
Usually when Jungkook wanted to get with a girl he was a lot more subtle, a few smirks here and there, some playful flirting. Smooth. So why wasn’t he being smooth? Probably because this wasn’t exactly what one would consider a one night stand…
You turned around as you tilted your head, giving him your full attention as you asked, “Yeah?” Jungkook felt himself freeze before he forced a cough from his lips. You could tell he had been acting up since this morning and for some reason it put you on edge...did he not want to be roommates anymore? Was something wrong?
Noting he hadn’t said anything yet you took the opportunity to sit down across from him as you raised your brows.
“I...um…” Jungkook sucked in a breath of air, calming himself down, “So...I found a way that could help us get rent….”
Jungkook felt bad at watching the way your eyes lit up in excitement as you bounced in your seat a little, clapping your hands as you asked, “What? Really!? What is it? I'd hate for us to have to move somewhere else…” Of course this little nerd Jeon Jungkook found a way for you both to get side cash! God you may not have been close to him but he really was a genius! 
Oddly enough Jungkook didn’t seem to share your sentiment as he dropped his gaze, looking somewhat ashamed which made your brows furrow. 
That was weird…”Well...here’s the thing…” he gave you a funny smile as he rubbed the back of your neck, “...Did you know Playhub pays users who put up content.” Jungkook wasn’t even sure how he managed to get those words out but he could tell that was the last thing you expected him to say.
It looked like your brain was frozen for a good few minutes before as you opened and closed your mouth several times...He did not just say what you think you heard him say…”You’re...you’re joking...right?” You forced a smile on your lips, feeling like something was caught in your throat as you forced a laugh despite your face suddenly feeling hot.
Jungkook sunk into his seat a little which only confirmed he wasn’t joking about this, he ran a hand through his hair as he looked away apprehensively, “I understand if you don’t want to do it but…! Just give it a thought-“ 
“Jungkook that’s insane! Who would sell porn?” 
“I would,” Jungkook replied somewhat defensively before he realized what he said, his ears burning as your jaw dropped a little and your brows rose, “...If I’m desperate enough and I’m pretty desperate right now Y/n...I’ve already checked for different apartments but anything in a half hour radius is around nine hundred as well and unless you wanna find two other housemates in the next two weeks we’re gonna be living in your car.” 
Jungkook’s brows were pinched and you wanted to whine at how serious his expression was. Porn? Together….Seriously? Just the idea was making you flush. You wouldn’t lie, Jungkook was an attractive guy, extremely attractive guy, you’d be dumb to not acknowledge that. Or the fact that you had a tiny crush on him when you first moved in together. But eventually you got over it, that didn’t erase the fact that it was once there though! If you slept with him...Dear god…that only crossed your mind when you were desperate while masturbating…
“Oh my god…” you sighed as you pressed your hands to your face.
“Like I said!” Jungkook replied hurriedly, “You don’t have to do it if you don’t feel comfortable but...we should start sending out advertisements for other roommates soon.”
Porn...Together…
You melted into your chair feeling somewhat embarrassed by the idea, what if somebody you knew stumbled across a video or what if your work found out…? “I…” You pressed your lips together before rubbing your temple, “Can I at least think it over tonight…?”
Jungkook’s lips parted, you...you were actually considering? Jungkook felt his face burn as he nodded rapidly, “Of course! Yeah! Just let me know in the morning.” Holy shit you were considering!
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Holy shit, you were actually considering this…
But Jungkook had a point, you were kind of desperate as well...You really loved this apartment and you didn’t want to give it up…
It was nearly seven in the morning and you had a horrible time sleeping last night, there were too many thoughts in your mind that kept you awake. If you were to do this then...you’d have to lay out a lot of ground rules and would have to talk a lot of things over…
That’s how you found yourself sitting on the couch with Jungkook both of you sitting on the opposite end turned to face one another, “...How do we even do this? Setting up an account?” You flushed as you asked, hugging the couch pillow against your chest.
Jungkook was still waking up, steam wafting from the cup of coffee he had as he took a sip, oddly not looking as flustered as he did the day before, “Well first off we’d make an account then we’d apply for their amateur program, they’ll have an admin verify us and we’d go from there.”  You pressed your lips together as you nodded, “If we do this,” Jungkook continued carefully, “We should stop by the bank and set up a joint account so we can both access the account we use for this.” 
That was definitely agreed and the smartest decision, that way there was no fighting or over spending any money you’d make on this...God you were actually considering this, “That's if you actually wanna do this though.” Jungkook finished as he took another sip of coffee, his expression neutral but the way he eyed you made your face feel hot again.
Sighing you pressed your hand to your face, what was the worst that could happen? You bang your roommate and this flops and then you go on with your life pretending it never happened? “Ah fuck it. We need money, and now.” Jungkook looked a little surprised by your words making you more flustered, “What!? Do you want me to say no!?” 
“No…! Well...Yeah, if you really don’t want to sleep with me…” Jungkook looked a little awkward as he rubbed his head, he wouldn’t lie, his pride would be a little hurt if you didn’t but he handled rejection all throughout his school years, he had survived before and could do so again.
“Do you wanna sleep with me?” You countered cautiously as you both awkwardly looked at one another.
Jungkook felt as if he’d break out in nervous sweat any moment, “...Yes…?” It was posed more like a question than an answer as you groaned making him rush, “It wouldn’t be a bad thing! I think your um-! I think you're pretty and I wouldn’t mind- I’m just gonna shut up. Let’s talk
sex, condoms or pill?” You looked at him bewildered as he scratched his cheek before murmuring, “Most people find it hot when it’s raw...we should discuss all of this before we do anything at all.” 
It was embarrassing though! You groaned as you shoved your face into your pillow, this was going to be a long conversation, “Condoms. I don’t have a reason to be on birth control but I mean…” You weren’t a stranger to Pornhub you knew most people went raw on there but…”Actually- before we even discuss condomless we should both get checked out. If you have STDs this plan isn’t going to work. We can talk about birth control afterward.” You’d be willing to go on pill but you wanted to make sure both of you were clean before you do anything else.
Jungkook nodded, “Alright fair enough- I don’t have STDs by the way,” He watched a smile tug on your lips for the first time all morning, yeah...this could definitely work, “You know I already have a good camera so we don’t have to worry about that. No faces though?” 
You immediately nodded, feeling a little better at the idea of keeping your face out of any kind of porn just to make yourself feel better, “Yeah definitely….And I guess we should probably talk about Uh…” you coughed a little, “...Kinks and stuff…For entertainment purposes.”
“Are you vanilla?” Jungkook immediately quizzed, making your gaze dart away from him, suddenly becoming mute, “Because we can keep it vanilla if that’s what you want.” He really was a sweetheart, not just like this but his whole personality. He was always thinking about others.
You rubbed your head as you sighed, forcing yourself to speak, “I uh...Not really…” you offered him a weak smile when you noticed he seemed confused.
You...you weren’t into vanilla? Jungkook didn’t want to say he assumed your tastes but well...he did a little, you were considerably quiet and timid, only open with your friends but over all a kind and sweet person. Jungkook figured girls like you probably liked something slow and sentimental. And there was nothing wrong with that! 
“And even if I was vanilla it wouldn't get views. Just throw me around and shit.” You laughed at the way Jungkook choked on his coffee, coughing as he pressed a hand on his chest, “Degradation, pain, bondage, all that stuff. Unless…! You’re not into that…” What surge of confidence you had suddenly wilted at the idea of Jungkook not being into these things.
Rather it was the opposite, the more you spoke the more aroused Jungkook felt, “...Are you saying you’re a submissive?” Jungkook could feel his cock throb in excitement. Sure he could find people who liked rough sex but not everyone was a submissive and the idea that he had been living with one for a year and a half was driving him up the wall. 
“Are you saying you’re a dominant?” You suddenly felt nervous at the idea, you could label yourself a sub but you had never actually been with a dominant before. Sure you had a great time with plenty of people but...The air in the room shifted a little, Jungkooks gaze a little more sultry then before, those usually innocent doe eyes looked lidded in the moment and the air around him suddenly looked a thousand times more confident as he gave a nod with a shrug, “Yeah, I am.” 
You wanted to screech at his words, his voice sounding a tone deeper than before.
Three words and it felt like you were squirming, of course he was dominant! Of course! You should’ve known! “So does that mean you like getting thrown around and shit?” Jungkook tucked his tongue into his cheek before offering a cocky smile that made him look a little more predatory than you were used to, he didn’t make a move to get closer to you but your body felt hotter then you remembered.
You managed a stiff nod, refusing to meet his gaze anymore and you were sure you looked embarrassed, you had to…You had never met someone that considered themselves formally a dominant but the energy just continued to ooze from Jungkook. 
“Oh? What about overstimulated,” Nod, “Toys?” Nod, “What about title kinks? I prefer to be addressed as Sir.” Jungkook wasn’t even hiding his arousal or interest anymore. His pupils looked dilated and he was licking lips at the way you squirmed in your seat, lips tugging into a pout and you refused to look at him anymore. Cute. 
“Sir is fine.” You mumbled as you rubbed your hand against your cheek, trying to stop your thighs from rubbing together in excitement. Maybe this wasn’t a terrible idea as you thought…
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Finding out that you and Jungkook were both sexually compatible seemed to really fast track your progress. You both went out the same day, opened a joint account together, you went to get tested and meanwhile bought birth control for you to start taking. Things seemed to be going well the last few days but you couldn’t help but feel nervous, the 29th would be arriving soon and if this flopped you’d either be cramming two extra people in the apartment or you’d be sleeping in by the back of your car. 
“Well I don’t know, I guess we’ll just have to play around with camera positions,” Jungkook frowned, messing with his tripod as you laid on his bed so he could try to frame it without your face in the shot, “I think this should work.” He seemed satisfied with his work as he leaned back on his hands as he sighed in contentment. 
“Have you heard back from them yet?” You glanced up at Jungkook as he frowned, shaking his head. You had created a pornhub profile together the same day you agreed to do this and you had yet to hear back about getting verified. But a part of you wondered if you’d have to build a following first. God this sounded time consuming…
“Hey, come on it’ll be fine.” It was like Jungkook could sense your nervous energy as you sighed, rolling into your stomach as you buried into his pillow, “If the video does well we’ll still get a cut regardless of verified or not. Verified probably just means more exposure.” 
The bed dipped a little as Jungkook sat on the edge as you sighed, mumbling into the pillow, “If it does well. Pornhub is like any other platform, there’s millions of videos on there. What’s one more have to offer?” It was true, the likelihood that this was going to work was….not high.
Jungkook frowned as he shrugged, he had been the more optimistic one about this then you and he’d continue to do so, “Well maybe…” You could hear the hesitation in his voice as you glanced up at him in front of your slumped position, his eyes a little nervous as he shrugged, “Maybe we should try a practice run.” 
You could immediately feel your face become hot at his words, there wasn’t any reason why you couldn’t. You got your test results back and you were both clean of STDs and you had been making sure to take birth control every day for the past four days and today as well, “Maybe we should…” you mumbled letting your face press against the pillow once more. The fact was nobody was going to watch to two awkward college kids act like they were virgins, you needed to have confidence in having sex with Jungkook and vice versa, right now that wasn’t looking too hot, “We can’t make anything decent until we’re used to banging each other.” 
You could hear Jungkook laugh a little, sounding a little less nervous as you felt the bed shift again, a hand hesitantly rolling your over into your back to look up at him, his cheeks were pink despite hovering on top of you, “I think we could make something decent right now.” Jungkook offered a little smirk as you glanced at the camera, realizing the screen had been flipped and record was on making your ears burn as you squirmed beneath him a little, “We’ll take it slow.” Jungkook was going to be the dominant in this scenario so he felt obligated to be the one to lead you through this despite not being experienced himself.
“Listen...ah...If you wanna stop at any time just tell me okay? Remember, we’re just getting used to one another.” 
You swallowed thickly despite looking away from him, feeling too embarrassed to look at him directly, “Same applies, if you wanna stop then we do.” Jungkook felt reassured as his lips quirked into a little smile, but admittedly all business aside, he was aroused by the sight of you beneath him. Jungkook was eager to get you naked and soaking wet beneath him, he had a lot of things he wanted to experiment with today and he had the feeling you’d be a good girl and let him.
Your breath hitches a little at his hands immediately pushing your top over your head, you felt semi embarrassed you weren’t wearing any sort of lingerie, just your usual bralette and panties that weren’t even matching but Jungkook didn’t even seem to mind as he quickly undid your bra. 
Your first instinct was to shy away from him attempting to cover yourself but shockingly Jungkook’s hands were faster, “Dont.” His voice was husky and deeper as he spoke causing your core to ache with a gush of arousal, “Let’s make one thing clear,” Jungkook let his lips press against your ear as he purred lowly, “I’m the dominant here. So be a good little girl and obey.” He growled lowly keeping your arms pinned to the bed as his mouth dragged down your neck, a whine suddenly escaping you at the feeling of his mouth capturing your sensitive nipple between his lips. Suckling it as a soft moan escaped you, your back arching a little to try for a little more friction.
Your panties were practically soaking and you hadn’t even started yet, Jungkook held your wrists over your hand with one hand and the other squeezed against your waist before petting down to your hip, his lips suckling against your tits before you squeaked at the feeling of his hand cupping your cunt, “Fuck,” Jungkook grunted at the feeling of your hips immediately thrusting into his hand for friction, “So fucking needy.” He growled against your skin, letting go of your wrists to tug his shirt over his head, “Should’ve known your little ass was a good girl,” He cooed snidely, a sharp sting against your pussy as he spanked it making you moan louder then you wanted too as he his smirk widened, “What a cute little sub.” You whined as you felt a sharp slap against your clothed clit, throbbing in excitement as pain flushed against it. 
“Sir! Please.” You hadn’t even consciously realized what you said but it made Jungkook’s muscle tense and a growl to suddenly escaping him at being formally addressed. His cock suddenly throbbing in need as he bit against your skin, “Please what? You desperate whore.” He wanted to hear you say it, to listen to that sweet little voice beg to be fucked. How could Jungkook life with you for this long and never think about how nice and wet your little cunt was?
“Ah!” Your hips bucked at the harsh slap against your clit, pleasure making you whine and squirm as you fumbled, “Please! Please sir!” Jungkook gritted his teeth as he roughly cupped your cunt, massaging against it as your panties soaked with arousal.
“Answer my fucking question,” Jungkook growled against your ear lowly, his thumb pressing against your covered clit harshly, your loud surprised squeak like music to his ears, “What do you want? What do you think you deserve? Hm?” 
Jungkook wanted to moan at just the sight of your fucked out submissive face as your hips kept needily grinding against his hand, “Tongue! Sir! Please! Want fingers! Anything!” Your eyes squeezed shut as you whined feeling his fingers pinch your clit, “Ah Sir…!” Jungkook was already stuffing his hand down your panties his long thick fingers dragging over your soaked cunt before pushing a single digit inside you, your lips immediately parting and your little hole clenching around him with a whine.
“Is this what my little slut wants?” Jungkook cooed out mockingly, a wicked smirk on his face as your eyes met, your expression twisted between shy and needy as various whines escaped you as his finger roughly hitting up against your g-spot, “Fuck you’re so tiny baby, I don’t think you can take my cock. It’ll split you right in half.” Just to emphasize Jungkook squeezed another finger inside you making your body jolt and walls clamp with a loud cry as your hips began to fuck yourself with them.
Jungkook paused his movements just to watch your hips buck up against him, your tiny walls squeezing so tight and snug around his fingers that covered in your arousal, “Do you like fucking yourself with my fingers you desperate little whore?” Jungkook growled with lidded eyes, watching your tits bounce with each thrust of your body and your little squeaked moans. 
“Y-yes! Mm love it!” Jungkook licked his lips at the feeling of your walls squeezing as you whimpered, “Ah! F-feels good! Sir, cum! Want cum!” Your body withered due to edging yourself with his fingers that teasingly brushed up against your g-spot each time. Jungkook shoved his fingers inside you all the way causing you to whine as you scrambled to frantically fuck his fingers making him growl, his non working hand finally releasing your wrists only to grab your hips with a sneer, “Be still you needy bitch.” 
You whimpered but stayed still obediently as he used his free hand to peel off your panties, a low moan escaping him and his cock was pressed thick and bulging against his sweatpants at the sight of such a pretty wet cunt stuffed full of his fingers. Your legs immediately spread as your hips couldn’t resist rolling into him, having full motion to feel his fingers drag against your g-spot as you cried out with a moan, “I said stay fucking still,” Jungkook snapped, his hand spanking harshly against your thigh making you jump with a cry, body squirming against his fingers as he shoved them back deep inside you, “You like getting fucked by my fingers? Say it. Say how much you don’t fucking deserve it.” Jungkook demanded, he shifted your body slightly more towards the camera as he kept your legs spread, in perfect few for watching you get stuffed with his fingers, “Say it.” Jungkook snapped, his fingers roughly thrusting inside you causing a loud moan as his jammed his fingers up into your g-spot pleasure was rapidly blossoming in your body as you cried.
“I-I don’t deserve it! I’m a dumb needy slut that doesn’t deserve your fingers Sir! Ah! I’m worthless and shouldn’t be allowed to cum! Sir please…!” Your body was withering as his fingers pounded into you, his thumb skillfully rubbing circles into your clit as your walls rapidly clenched and relaxed, “Sir!” 
“That’s right,” Jungkook growled his fingers harshly rutting up into your g-spot sloppily and his thumb rubbing into your clit as he snarled, “You don’t deserve it you worthless cumdumpster.” Your body was so close, Jungkook could feel it, you were squirming and mornings hotly escaped you before a loud cry left your lips the glorious feeling of his fingers escaping you just at the edge of your orgasm, a sob escaping your lips as your body began to tremble. 
“Sir please! Please! Let me cum! Sir!” You sobbed with blurry eyes as you glanced up at Jungkook’s dark daunting figure, his fingers in his mouth as he licked them clean, as if he didn’t so much as care about your sobbing figure that trembled beneath him. 
His hand suddenly wrapped around your throat with a harsh squeeze, “Shut up you pathetic bitch. You said it yourself, you don’t deserve to cum,” Jungkook gave you a lopsided smile, “But if you really think you deserve to cum get on your knees.” He growled, getting off of you as he pulled his shirt over his head. Your mouth was watering at just the sight of his body, thick and taunt muscles all up and down his arms, his sweat pants hung low enough to show off his v line and you could even see the distinct display of abs when he crunched slightly before sitting with his feet on the ground at the edge of the bed, right in front of the camera. 
You scrambled to get off the bed, kneeling down between his parted legs as you folded your hands glancing up at him for direction, Jungkook snorted as his hand came to touch your hair a pleasant noise escaping you as his hand stroked down to your cheek.
A harsh smack against the same skin he previously brushed as you jumped with a whine, your cheek flushing with a delicious sting of pain as Jungkook gritted his teeth, “Don’t sit still and look pretty baby take out my cock.” Obediently you fumbled with his waist band before tugging it down. Pausing for a moment as his cock bounced and laid against his abdominal, he was so thick, perhaps not the longest you had seen but certainly not the shortest either. His head was bulbous and round weeping with precum. You didn’t stare for long, wanting to cum more than anything as you let your lips get to work.
Gently licking the precum off his head as you heard a moan of approval from him, delicately you let your tongue press against the base of his cock, squeezing his balls as you let your tongue work it’s way up his cock, another moan escaping his lips as he growled, “I said suck baby not tease.” 
Whining a little you huffed, gripping his cock a little tighter then necessary earning a grunt from him before you obediently parted your lips, slowly taking his thick tip into your mouth as you heard a sigh of relief from him. Your hands tugged against his base as you let your head bob against his tip, letting your tongue messily rub into his slit causing his hips to buck a little, “Fuuck, guess that bitchy little mouth is useful for something.” Jungkook moaned, pride swelling in your chest at making him feel so good, a whine suddenly escaped you at his hand tangling in your hair, pushing you to take more of his cock. You obediently let him, taking more of him into your mouth but not without a vibrated whine. 
Jungkook began to guide your movement with his hand into a slow bob as he moaned, pushing you to take further of him as his cock hit the back of your throat. 
Pausing a moment Jungkook moaned, “Can you deepthroat sweetheart? Fuuck.” He’s brows scrunched together as he glanced down, another breathy moan escaped him at the sight of your watery eyes glancing up at him a small nod making him moan again as he regripped your hair, somewhat more tender this time as he guided your mouth down his cock. Your throat burned and your jaw ached as you felt tears begin to well in your eyes as you hollowed your cheeks and let his shaft slide further into your mouth.
“Mmm shit, good girl,”Jungkook moaned his hips lifting a little as his hand tangled in your hair, his hand eagerly encouraging your head as you whined, letting your head bob against his thick shaft, gagging a little as his hand pushed you further down until your nose was pressed against his pubic bone, “You take me so well baby fuck.” Jungkook moaned lowly, his hand yanking your hair making you muffle a cry against his cock as he sloppily made you bob your head, saliva dripping down your chin and tears beginning to trickle down your cheeks as you gagged.
A loud moan escaped Jungkook at the feeling of your throat squeeze around him, “Fuck baby. That’s it. Good girl.” Your head was becoming light as you continued gagging on his cock, your nails digging into his thighs pleasantly and you could feel his cock throb and his hips lift. 
Jungkook harshly pulled you up from his bobbing cock that looked ready to cum from even the slightest contact, “What a good girl,” Jungkook rasped, cupping your cheek as he thumbed away the tears that trailed your cheeks, “C’mere.” 
You squeaked as Jungkook grabbed you, pull you up into his lap before shifting you onto the bed, your body trembled in excitement as Jungkook placed you on all fours, suddenly shoving your back against the bed and your face on the mattress as you whined, your ass presented for him as he moaned, “Such a good fucking girl. I should’ve fucked you sooner then this if I knew what a good little slut you were.” Jungkook let the tip of his cock sink inside you as let out a muffled moan, even being stretched wasn’t enough to prepare for his girthy cock.
Jungkook grunted was he pushed further inside you until his hips met yours, your walls squeezed snug around him but took him well as he moaned, “Fuck baby.” It’s all he said before he suddenly slammed into the bed, your weight completely thrown off and you had no choice but to let your face bury against the bed as you let out moan after moan, your walls excitedly clenching around him as he thrusted roughly inside you. Just hearing his balls slap against your skin, his cock splitting you open as he moaned, “Who knew my little slut would be so tiny. I’m gonna fucking break you baby, you want that?” 
Jungkook leaned down as his hips roughly rolled yours, his hand wrapping around your throat making you wheeze before you could even answer.
“Hnngh! S-sir! Sir!” You could hardly even speak when Jungkook roughly squeezed your neck once more, your walls clenching around him in excitement as his cock rubbed into your g-spot pleasantly, “Fuck me please. Harder. Ah! Harder!” You whined, needing friction desperately.
Your wish was his command and it even fully expecting it Jungkook’s hips became sharper and faster with each thrust, “This what you want baby? You wanna be my little fuck doll now?” Jungkook growled in your ear, his hand squeezing around your throat once more making you moan as your upper body completely collapsed, letting Jungkook pound into your cunt as he moaned, “Thats it fucking take it you worthless bitch. Are you gonna cum all over my dick?” 
Jungkook let go of your throat in trade for your clit, his thumb rubbing against your sensitive bud making you cry out, walls rapidly clenching around him as his cock slammed into your g-spot, your body withering at such an intense speed you weren’t sure you could stop yourself from cumming, “Ah! Sir! Sir! Ah!” Your walls were rapidly squeezing around his cock as your face scrunched, a loud muffled scream escaping you at your orgasm that snapped.
“Mmm fuck that’s it. Good girl.” Jungkook growled as his hips rolled into yours, letting himself sink inside your body milked his cock. His hands squeezing tightly against your waist as he moaned, hot cum shooting inside you as his hips grinded against yours, coaxing a few more spits of cum as he moaned. Your body trembling and exhaustion setting in as Jungkook inhaled sharply, his cock beginning to soften inside you before he pulled out. 
Your body slumped as you felt the bed shift his weight no longer on the bed. You glanced his way only to realize he turned off the camera before laying back down, collapsing on top of you as you whined a little. It was quiet as he pressed his face into your shoulder as he sighed, “Well, at least we don’t act like virgins.”
“I’m glad that’s what you took away from that.” You huffed, you could hear a muffled laugh from Jungkook making a smile tug on your lips as well, he certainly wasn’t wrong.
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“Fuck me please. Harder. Ah! Harder!”
That...was you…? You couldn’t help but cringe, you couldn’t even stand your own voice let alone making a whole porno, Jungkook’s eyes weren’t trained on your sinful words or even your sloppy body movements in sync. He was too into his videographer self to care about the actual content.
“At least I sound like a pornstar.” You wrinkled your nose as you looked over his shoulder. This seemed to pull Jungkook out of his thoughts as he snorted, a smile tugging on his lips as he glanced up at you with a shrug.
“I don’t think it’s bad honestly, I mean I think we’re past TMI at this point so truthfully? Out of all the home made porn I’ve watched this is pretty good. We have nice camera angles, microphones make the sound high quality-“
“Oh yes,” you replied sarcastically, “Just what I wanna hear- your balls slapping me at the speed of light.” That earned a rather proud look from Jungkook as you huffed, looking away from him.
“I think we should post it, just to test the waters. I cut out any clips of our faces, we could still use a little work on making sure to not show our faces with our angles but I think that will take time.”
You frowned a little as you wrapped your arms around yourself, suddenly feeling unsure if this was a good idea, “...You really think it’s that good?”
Jungkook raised his brows as he turned his chair around to look at you, sensing the shift in your demeanor as he relied, “Well we don’t have too if you don’t feel comfortable with it,” he offered a small smile, “But personally? I don’t see why not. And if it doesn’t take, we can always make more, feel out what people enjoy watching more.”
In most cases you would’ve said you didn’t feel comfortable with this, with the idea of strangers on the internet masturbauting to your private sex life but...there was something so sincere and comforting in Jungkook’s eyes, maybe it was just the dom in him wanting to prioritize your comfort over anything else. You weren’t sure, but it was that look that made it okay, “Alright, what the hell.” You sighed, “I didn’t let you blow my back out for no reason.” 
Jungkook snorted as he turned his chair around, “Maybe it’s just me but I felt you clenching around me hard when you came all over my-“
“Shut up! Just because you fuck me doesn’t mean you can go into graphic detail about it! Jesus Christ!” You covered your ears, feeling hot all of sudden as you glared are Jungkook’s dumb coconut hair, though you couldn’t see his face fully you were positive there was a dumb little smirk on his lips as he hummed. God what did you get yourself into? 
You had a hard time going to bed that night, rolling around as you briefly wondered the what if, what if it was an overnight sensation? What if someone you knew recognized it was you? What if...god you’d never show your face at campus again…
“Well?” You hadn’t gotten a blink of sleep as you bounced behind Jungkook who hummed, logging in as he yawned.
“It got ten views.” Jungkook clacked his tongue before shrugging, “But I mean hey! We got two dollars!” You deflated as you smacked your forehead. That would be great if your rent was only two dollars higher rather than two hundred!
“Hey remember what I said,” Jungkook rubbed his eyes as he offered a sleepy smile, “We can always try different things, the more we post the more a viewership will build. Overnight sensations never happen anyways.” He seemed more relaxed about this then you. Sighing you collapsed on his bed as you curled up, “Well what do you propose we try next?” 
Jungkook gave it some thought as he spun his chair around to face you before shrugging, “I don’t know...I mean, not to sound sexist or anything but I think we both know pornhub is pretty male dominated in viewership…” he offered a weak smile as you shrugged, “So...I don’t know, how would you feel about forced orgasms and bondage.” 
Your head shot up to look at Jungkook’s pink cheeks as he gave a sheepish smile, choosing to not look at you as he rubbed his neck, “That took a sharp turn real fast...Maybe you shouldn’t be so vague though, a lot could happen during a scene like that.” It never failed to amuse you the way Jungkook would straighten up at the sight of your interest.
“Well, do you have any toys?” Jungkook asked as you gave him a face, “Oh come on, I won’t judge you,” he curved a brow as he gave a cocky smile, “It’s not like I haven’t blown your back out already. Do you even own any toys?” He decided to take on a new tactic as he held challenging mock in his tone, “Or were you just in that big of a drought-“
“Okay you asshole!” You glared at him as he gave a cheeky smile, “Yes I have a one. Just a bullet vibrator. Do you even own any bondage gear?” You curved a brow as he parted his lips, brows pinched almost in defense but no words escaped him.
Sighing Jungkook dropped his head in defeat, “No...but I bet we could prime some!” He suddenly jumped back up as you buried your hands against your face, “Hey I can’t help it! Most girls usually get freaked out when I try and start tying them up, I figured I’d just get proper bondage when I found someone to do it with.” 
“Oh great.” You muttered under your breath as you curled up, “Glad I could offer the opportunity.” To that Jungkook gave an endearing smile. What had you gotten yourself into? 
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Despite the bondage handcuffs only taking two days to arrive, each day that passed made you more anxious, you really didn’t have a lot of time to be wasting. You and Jungkook and respectively kept your hands to yourselves meanwhile, but had discussed plenty of things, mainly camera angles, future ideas. Jungkook was sure this would work and hey, if he had that kind of faith, the very least you could do was admire it.
“You wanna use any safe words or?” Jungkook was currently straddling on top of you as he grabbed the cuffs that were laying beside you. They were leather, or faux leather- not the most comfortable feeling but durable for the next fifteen minutes.
You frowned before shrugging, “Why don’t we just use traffic lights?” It was fairly common in BDSM, “Unless you forget to check in…” you squinted a little suspiciously as Jungkook snorted, looking somewhat offended at your words.
“I always check in on my partners thank you very much-and yes that’s fine. Alright top off,” He gestured at your oversized sweatshirt, you glanced away from him as you shuffled a little, hearing him sigh as he spoke up, “It’s not like I haven’t seen boobs before- especially yours.” You scowled at him, “It doesn’t make it any less embarrassing!”
Jungkook’s nose scrunched, “How's it embarrassing?” He tilted his head looking oddly innocent despite having a vibratior laying next to him and a pair of handcuffs in his hands.
“Just take it off for me!” You blurted out before realizing what you just said, swallowing thickly before whining a little at the noise he made of contentment.
“All you had to do was ask, princess.” Jungkook’s hands were already pushing under your sweatshirt before pulling it over your head, “Awwh you were ready for me? Not even wearing anything underneath.” Jungkook was obviously setting the mood now despite the camera not being on, or maybe he was getting into his dominant head space, whatever it was it was working wonders on you.
Jungkook grabbed your hands before putting them above your head as you whined a little, “...maybe…” you squeezed your legs together in excitement, you had never had a partner use any toys on you before and, you couldn’t help but wonder how many times you’d cum in this session. Jungkook had already proven himself good in bed just by making you cum all over his dick.
You had discussed the scene in further detail yesterday, Jungkook had asked if it was okay to use fingers and tongue as well spanking and- you had embarrassingly said yes a little too fast, fast as in before he could even finish his sentence...you felt warm at just the memory or maybe it was from your binds being tightened as Jungkook hovered over you, “Is that good princess?” He whispered in your ear, you could feel the smirk coiling on his lips as you shifted.
Your thighs rubbed together and you had come prepared today in pink lacy panties that were undoubtedly wet now, “Yes...sir.” You mumbled as you heard his deep chuckle against the shell of your ear.
Sitting up right Jungkook licked his lips as his eyes slowly raked from your face, to your lips, all the way down to your chest were your nipples hardened against the cool air of the room, “Always so obedient.” He hummed as he say off of you, parting your legs a little so he could sit in between them as he asked, “Are you excited? Your clits gonna be numb by the time I’m finished.” His smile was cocky and arrogant, long gone was the sweet room mate you knew.
You wiggled your arms against your restraints as you whined a little, Jungkook’s body straightened a little before he pressed play on the camera which was held in a tripod at the edge of the bed right where you were placed.
He said it would...be perfect to see everything. 
His hands placed against your thighs as he chuckled once more, “You’re so squirmy, are you excited to cum princess?” Your thighs were practically shaking in excitement and if your face was anything to go by the answer was obvious.
You nodded frantically, opening your legs a little more for him as he clacked his tongue, “I can’t hear you princess.” 
“Please!” You immediately whined, a small smirk tugging on his lips as you continued, “I’ll be a good girl! I’ll cum when you want…!” Jungkook hummed as he pushes up the small skirt you were wearing, letting his fingers stroke against the lace as you jumped a little, trying to keep yourself from bucking against him.
“I’ll hold you to those words, little girl.” Jungkook gave you a sadistic grin and briefly, you realized he was right. Your clit wasn’t going to survive this, “I’m gonna edge this little clit of yours until you’re begging to cum. But you aren’t going to do a thing until I say so. Understand?” 
He picked up the small bullet vibrator, usually you were excited when you heard the buzz of it coming to life, today however, you knew was going to be rough, “Yes sir.” You mumbled as he pulled down your panties, tossing them to the side as he pushed your skirt up, opening your legs as he moaned a little.
“Look at you, all wet and excited at the idea of this. You know what princess,” You jumped a little at the vibrator dragging along your inner thigh, “I think you’re looking forward to this. I think you’re excited to be edged until you’re crying. Isn’t that right princess? Are you gonna be a good girl and listen to me?” 
You nodded frantically as you squirmed at the vibrator getting closer to your throbbing cunt, arousal was gushing from your entrance as Jungkook dragged a finger up your slit, inspecting his glossy finger pad before letting it drag over his tongue, a devilish smirk on his lips as you whimpered are the vibrator pushing against your entrance, “So wet baby, I could just push it right in.” 
He pushed the tip inside you, the thrum of vibrators making you squeak a whine as you tries to instinctively close your legs, Jungkook immediately stopped you, forcing your legs back open as he chuckled, pushing it a little further inside as you clenched around the small pulsing toy, “Sir! Please! Please!” You whimpered as his thumb began to circle your clit, your toes curling and your lips parting as you went to grab his hand to grind it. Your range of motion was immediately cut off by your binds as you whined.
“Oh you like that baby?” Jungkook’s lips tugged into an animated pout as he mocked, “You like your clit being rubbed while you get fucked with your little vibrator.” He pushed the vibrator half way inside you as you squeaked loudly, jamming the tip into your g-spot as you let out a loud squeal, goes curling once more as your eyes snapped shut. His thumb tenderly stroking your clit until he found your sweet spot that forced breathy whines from your lips.
“Please! Please sir! Sir! Need cum! Please! Cum!” Your body withered and it was difficult to focus on anything when the vibrator was being jammed against your g-spot and Jungkook had a certain lazy touch against your clit that had you begging.
Jungkook as if sensing you were close, immediately pulled all contact against you as you whined in objection, “Oh we’re just getting started sweetheart.” Jungkook let the smirk tug on his lips as he shifted your legs back wide open for him, “Look at this mess sweetheart,” He growled, placing the vibrator back against your wet folds as you whimpered.
Dragging it against your slick cunt you let out a sharp cry at Jungkook placing it against your delicate clit, pleasure deliciously burning in your body as you squeaked and whimpered, “Ah! Sir…! Ah please…!” You squeaked, your toes curled as you whined, your eyes snapping shut as you tried to focus on anything but cumming immediately.
Jungkook, not feeling merciful pushed a finger inside you as you whined a loud moan, your walls clenching harshly as he shoved a second finger inside you, “That’s right baby, clench. You wanna cum yeah?” He growled once more, his voice even deeper then voice. Your back was arching and your legs thrashed as you choked on your moans.
“Please! Please! Let me cum sir please!” Your voice was bubbling and frantic as your hips jerked up to meet his second finger that pushed inside you, your hips trying to fuck your self on those thick long fingers he was slowly fucking in and out of your clenching tight cunt as he slowly dragged the vibrator along your clit in search of your sweet spot.
Jungkook chuckled at the pathetic sight of your hips, “Look at you, you’re so fucking despesate to be fucked you’re even willing to do it yourself, this little pussy is clenching so hard baby do you need to cum that bad?” His lips twisted into a mocked pout as he roughly jammed his fingertips into your g-spot, the vibrator pausing on your clit as he heard the loud shriek escape you, your back arching and toes curling at the overwhelming wash of pleasure that struck through your body.
Your lips parted and your walls were rapidly clenching as you cried out, “F-fuck….! Please! Sir! Fuck! Ah…! Ah! Cum…!” Your legs were kicking as his fingers shoved back inside you, his pacing picking up a little more as pleasure burned against your sensitive bud. 
“Mm fuck, I can feel how bad you’re trying not to cum baby.” Jungkook licked his lips as the smirk formed on his mouth, his cock nearly rock hard at how tight your walls were becoming making it nearly impossible to move his fingers.
Your head was moving and your arms kept shaking as gasps and moans escaped you, it felt like a fucking demon was possessing your body due to this mans fingers shoving their way against your g-spot roughly while this vibrator continued drilling into your clit, your mind had turned to nothing but frantic cries and moans, “Cum! Please! Sir…!” You weakly begged.
A sudden gasp escaping you at the height of your pleasure, there was no way you’d be able to hold back, not with his fingers stuffing your cunt full and knowing just how to hit your sweet spot while he carefully hovered the vibrator over your clit, your thighs were jerking and your eyes snapped up before you let out a cry at everything suddenly being removed.
You kicked your legs in frustration as tears welled into your eyes, “What did I say princess?” Jungkook chuckled, leaning up to grab your face as he squished it between his hand, “You aren’t cumming until I say so.” His face went cold as he grabbed your thighs, forcing them back open as you whined, “Don’t be so fuckinf patehtic.” You jolted at the wad of spit that smacked against your dripping cunt, a loud cry escaping you ag the vibrator being shoved back inside you and aimmed directly against your g-spot, your back immediately arching as you whined as his lips attached to your clit.
His moans vibrates against your sensitive clit causing you to twitch and squirm as your lips parted at the feeling of his tongue flattening and rubbing against your bud as he stares up at you with a cocky lidded expression at the noise of your loud moans. Jungkook felt like it was music to his ears that he just needed to hear more of as he began thrusting the little bullet inside you making sure it was jabbing into your g-spot each time.
It illicted the exact reaction he had hoped for, that being your head being thrown back against the pillow and your thighs twitching as streams of moans escaped you while pleading, “F-fuck! Sir- please…! Please! Ah! Ah!” Your body was twitching in ungodly positions and he kept hearing your bonds rattle as you whimpered beneath him.
“Mmm that’s right baby, are you gonna give me your first orgasm?” Jungkook moaned as he pressed his tongue back to your little clit, flicking and playing with the little bud, “That’s it princess, I know you wanna cum.” And you sure did, your voice was high pitched and needy as your walls were rapidly clenching around the vibrator that was drilling into your g-spot.
Jungkook’s wet, warm tongue playing with your clit as he suckled against it, purposely prodding against your sweet spot before your body nearly went into shock at the orgasm you experienced. Your back arching and loud shines escaping you as you moaned, “Fuck! Fuck! Mmm! Ah! Ah…!” You had never in your life came as hard are you were right now, in fact, you were sure you blacked out for a half a second due to how amazing it was.
“Aah! Sensitive! Ah! J-sir! Sir! Yellow…!” You whined out as your legs squirmed at the overstimulation. At the sound of the yellow marker Jungkook pulled the vibrator from your cunt, letting out a soft laugh as he pressed a kiss on your inner thigh, “Mmm yellow baby? What about just another orgasm for me while you recover your guts?” Before you could even process his words his tongue was already back on your clit was a moan.
You squeaked loudly at the overstimulation once more which hurt but was admittedly much more tolerable especially after the first twenty seconds of whining before they quickly turned to moans and your legs kicking against his back as he hauled your lower body up, his fingers pushing back inside you as he moaned, “Fuck baby c’mon cum, cum all over my fingers princess I can fucking feel it.” Your eyes scrunched closed as you whimpered loudly, your body was frantically becoming overwhelmed at the feeling of his fingers fluidly thrusting, letting his pads drag over that little spongy spot that had you kicking your legs as your hips brokenly jerked against his tongue that lathed against your clit.
Your body was frantic and quickly becoming overwhelmed as you came hard once more, your toes curling and loud cries and moans escaping you as your back arched and your muscles rapidly contracted at the pure overwhelming pleasure your body was experiencing at the moment. Jungkook suckled your clit tenderly, his fingers sluggishly pumping inside you a your walls twitched and tightened around him deliciously making his cock throb in his pants, “Mmm that’s it baby, feel your tight little cunt wrapped around my fingers. How are you feeling baby?” 
Jungkook pushed his fingers fully inside you once more making you whine a little as your walls clenched around them once more. Fuck you could hardly even think with his fingers stuffing you full, “Princess,” Jungkook said in a teasing sing song voice, a third finger tracing your little hole that was stuffed with his other two fingers, “How are you feeling.” He chuckled under his breath at the feeling of your cunt rapidly squeezing around his fingers at the feeling of his index finger teasing your entrance.
Your lips were parted and drool was nearly dripping down your lips as your hips lifted a little at the feeling, wanting to be stuffed as full as possible by this man, his third finger suddenly pushing inside you making you squeak out, “Green! Ah mmm! Green fuck!” Your hips tried to fuck up against him desperately in need to be filled by more then just fingers, your body was now fucked to the point of want that fat cock inside you and at this rate you knew you were going to start begging.
“Awwh my little cum whore wants to keep going?” Jungkook mocked a baby voice as he picked back up the vibrator, purposely pumping his fingers slow as your eyes snapped shut at the feeling of being nice and full of his fingers. Cries suddenly escapes you at the vibrator feathering over your clit making your squirm, “Please…!” You legs kept clenching and your clit was hypersensitive so even the slightest touch.
Your hips jerked and squirmed as Jungkook placed the head of the vibrator back against the sweet side of your clit, nearly moaning at how harshly you reacted your walls desperately clenched as pleasure seeped into your clit with every little thrum.
Your hands were trembling and weak having given up against your restraints as you whined weakly at the feeling of three fingers roughly shoving against your g-spot. This man was wrecking your body alive and you had no choice but to take it like the little bitch you had been turned into.
Your eyes were becoming watering and your squeaks breathy and whimpered as your body twitched violently at the slight shift in the vibrator pressing into your gorged bud. It had you spiraling out of control paired with Jungkook’s rough fingers making you cry and yelp, “ah….! Fu-fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Cock! Need cock! Need!” You were kicking and sobbing, fat tears trickling down your face as you moaned rapidly at your body violently cumming, almost too much for you to handle but Jungkook skilled as ever carefully guided you through your orgasm, “That’s it babygirl, that’s it.” He cooed out, your hips following each stroke of his fingers as your body came down from its peak it had hit.
“Such a good fuckin’ girl. What was that about my cock princess?” Jungkook’s smile was cheshire-like as he quirked a brow, just drinking up those big eyes brimmed with tears as you sniffled.
Kicking your legs a little you whined, “I- I need more! Please!” You managed to roll yourself onto your stomach, the chains twisted at the bar now but you had enough room to still be comfortable as you somehow managed to push your knee’s up to support your lower half to display your destroyed pussy.
Your legs were trembling and you admittedly felt pathetic right now, one thrust and this man was probably gonna make you collapse, especially after experiencing that dummy thick fire hydrant once already.
Just the idea had your legs trembling that much more though, you were ready to be destroyed. Your body stiffened at hands cupping both cheeks of your ass, “This is pretty fucking pathetic baby.” Jungkook chuckled, a loud smack rang out as you wiggled your ass a little at the sting of his palm meeting the soft flesh, “You need my cock that fuckin’ bad?” 
“Please…!” You whined as you pressed your face against the bed, your pussy felt too empty right now clenching against nothing and you needed this man to rail you until you physically could not stand.
After a moment you let out a surprised squeal at the familiar fat cock smacking against your pussy, “Shittt baby, are you always gonna be this hungry for my dick?” Your face was burning at his whispered words in your ear, you could feel his smirk as you whined, backing against him as he moaned softly, letting his cock coat in your arousal before he lined himself up.
Jungkook wasted no time pushing inside you with ease, even anticipating it you forgot just how thick he was, biting your lip you moaned in relief at finally being filled the way you were craving. Even if you didn’t cum again you just wanted this monster cock to fill you up until you were leaking cum.
Jungkook pushed all the way inside you as he groaned, pushing his hair back as he gathered himself, “How are you feeling baby? How hard do you want me to go?” 
You were so impatient you truly couldn’t help yourself when you began fucking yourself on his cock, your lips parting at how much your walls were clenching around his large size that kept sliding inside you with so much ease, “Hard…! Fuck! Fuck me until I’m leaking your cum please sir!” 
You nearly screamed a moan at the force you were met with, your legs just as you suspected nearly crumbling like a two week old pack of crackers at the bottom of a purse from the god tier power this man was using to thrust.
His cock was slamming into you, his fat bulbous head continually jamming into your g-spot in a way his fingers couldn’t compare too as you rapidly clenched around him. The sound of his balls slapping on your skins and moans mixed together could beat your hands any day of the week, “You’re such a horny little slut.” Jungkook snapped as he slammed his hand against your ass making you cry out. Your legs violently trembling and aching in pain as he growled, “I made you cum until you're about to pass out and it isn’t enough baby? You still need this fat dick filling you up? You cock hungry little whore.” 
Jungkook, keenly noticing how excited you were vocally but your body failing to keep up he quickly eliminated this problem. Grabbing both your thighs you were confused for a brief moment before letting out a loud squeal at the way he picked them both up leaving your upper body in the air and left mercilessly at his force allowing him to thrust into you that much harder.
Your lips fell open at the way he was forcing your hips to bounce on his clock roughly, his fat shaft sliding in and out of your soaked cunt that sucked him back in desperately each time, “Fuck! Fuck…! Ju- sir! Sir! Mmm! Cock! F-fu-fuck.” 
You couldn’t even spew a sentence out anymore with your head filled with only thoughts of how he was holding your entire lower body up by your thighs and just kept drilling into your cunt like you were a feather weight. Drool was spilling your lips and you could no longer speak. Only able to make whined and moans now.
“That’s it baby, are you too fucked out on my cock to speak? Hm? Are you turned into a brain dead little cock monster now? My insatiable little cum dumpster.” All of his degradation was just fueling your further and further to the brink of an orgasm that your body was in no shape to handle.
His cock didn’t relent though, contially drilling into you like no tomorrow as he growled, “Fuck! You want me to use this little hole like a cum dump baby? Want me to make it nice and full.” You were filled with excitement all different kinds of whines escaping you making Jungkook’s moan, forcing your hips to bounce on his cock, his shaft rubbing against your g-spot with each stroke causing your body to contort and squirm, the orgasm flooded your body had you sobbing and whining, briefly black filtered your eyes before you opened them to feel hot liquid entering your body as Jungkook moaned, his hips lifting in chase of your cunt that sucked every little drop form him body. His body was floating on a euphoric high he had a difficult time coming down from when your cunt was clenched around him so hard.
He let his head drop a little as his cock began to soften, slowly slipping out of you before he set down your thighs, tucking himself back into his sweatpants Jungkook leaned over to grab the key off the nightstand he moved up a little more to undo your bonds and a small smile threatened to break on his lips at the sight of your completely fucked out face.
Your thighs were harshly trembling and you could hardly formulate a sentence let alone a single word, Jungkook whistled as he laughed, a hand tenderly rubbing into your hair, “You are so fucked out sweetheart.” He leaned down pressing a kiss against your forehead, “Let me go get a cloth and a towel to clean you up with okay baby? How does a nice hot bath sound.” 
“I’m- I’m not completely useless…” you somehow spewed out an objectification making him laugh, “I- I can…” you grabbed the toy before slowly wobbling out of the bed.
“Woah woah woah.” Jungkook scrambled out of bed after you, your legs wobbling and you immediately knew there was no way you could possibly stand. Jungkook quickly scooped you up as he looked down at you bewildered, “I just rearranged all your intestines, you seriously think you could walk after that let alone stand.” 
You pressed your face into his shoulder letting out a muffled giggle, embracing the skin ship that was much needed, “Yeah I just have this massive chicken brain that needs proof that it was good enough.”
“Good enough…?” Jungkook scrunched his face not understanding.
“Yeah it’s like my head needs proof that my body actually got destroyed.” You giggled against at Jungkook’s expression that was so obviously at a loss of what to say, having obviously never heard that before.
“...and was it proved…?” He quirked a brow.
“Clearly.” You looked at him before his arms that had you scooped against him causing you both to laugh once more as he placed you back on the bed were you nearly crumpled up immediately.
“Then stay there for real, I don’t wanna come back to seeing you sprawled out all over the floor because you needed hardcore proof.” You waved him off before shouting for him to bring water.
When Jungkook came back shortly after he snorted at the sight of you having made yourself comfortable on his bed, not only that but wearing his sweatshirt as well, “I turned off the camera by the way. My throat is so dry! Gimme.” You raised your arms as you grabbed the bottle from him as you opened it, closing your eyes as the cool liquid slid down your throat as Jungkook sat between your legs as you felt the urge to smile.
“...Did you get cum all over my bed?” Jungkook’s eyes darted around his comforter suspiciously as you shrugged, making him eye you suspiciously.
“Please- I feel like I’m a fucking gyno appointment right now, do I need to clean myself now too?” You whined kicking your legs a little, your pussy was literally right out in the open and this man could only focus on why you weren’t leaking?
Jungkook reluctantly began cleaning what left over cum remained in your thighs as he asked, “Did you stand up again?” 
“I didn’t!” You protested, lips parted in offense that he really thought you’d pull another chicken brain moment. Jungkook only rolled his eyes, a smile threatening to tug on his lips as he stood back up, tossing the rag into his laundry hamper before walking over to his dresser. Putting the bottle of water on the nightstand you briefly admired Jungkook’s physique, his waist narrow compared to his broad shoulders and muscles sculpting his back….you knew he was kind of a gym rat but given he was always in such billowing clothes you never realized how defined he was. 
If you were gonna make porn for the next two years you were glad you at least had a hot partner to do it with. Jungkook pulled the large shirt over his head.
You popped up into your forearms when he began disassembling the camera equipment making you pout, “Hey! What happened to my aftercare and bath I was promised?” 
“God you are such a pillow princess after sex, I never would’ve thought.” Jungkook crawled up onto the bed before collapsing on top of you, making you laugh as you closed your eyes, “You know I did all the work this time.” 
“Voluntarily might I add-“ you pointed as Jungkook rolled off you only for you to attach yourself back against him, “Also I didn’t realize you were THAT fit like seriously, you fucked my entire lower body up in the air. It really was a porno moment.” You snorted at the sight of Jungkook’s ears turning red and his cheeks looking a little pink at the compliment.
He shrugged a little, unable to say anything or more like he was just too shy to. Regardless he pulled out his laptop and lap stand already excited to edit the video despite just creating it. Yawning you crawled on top of him, collapsing against his chest as you closed your eyes, really wanting that bath but also incredibly tired. 
Jungkook had straight away begun editing through the clips, watching them back over before his mind began to wander...Sliding through the time stamps Jungkook let it go at the end of the clip, watching you wobble as you stood on your knees on the bed. He furrowed his brows in confusion though a little amused at the way your legs wobbled up to the camera. Oh you must’ve been going to…
He mouth parted at watching you take the camera off the tripod, aiming it at your legs before spreading them to show off the white sticky substance leaking from your cunt before your fingers scooped it up, pulling the camera up to your neck and only your mouth was visible showing off the cheeky smile you had as you plopped your fingers into your mouth, sucking them clean before popping them out of your mouth before the screen went black.
Jungkook was partially speechless and admittedly a little hard, it was tempting to not ask if you genuinely didn’t have any experience in sex work. Jungkook twisted to look down at you, deciding to interrogate only for his expression to fall at the sight of you slumped on top of him, your eyes shut and he felt a little bad at how much you wanted aftercare. 
Pushing a strand of hair from your face he made a mental note to make up for it in the morning. Going back to editing he placed one hand in your head as he tenderly stroked your scalp. This would be posted in no time.
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You loved aftercare, you always craved it after a nice round of rough sex even if it was a one night stand. It was just payment for letting a man spit in your face and call you a whore- quite literally. Jungkook, wasn’t the greatest aftercare but hey, he was making it up this morning. He had gotten you a bath drawn first thing in the morning, massaged your back, gave little kisses all over your skin. You were in heaven. 
“Is this making up for me being a horrible partner last night,” You were laid out, sleepily with your eyes closed as Jungkook tenderly worked his palms back on your shoulder blades, “I saw what you did by the way. Not impressed.”
You tucked your tongue into your cheek as you smiled playfully, looking up at him over your shoulder, his head shaking as you giggled, “I thought it was a great touch to end the video. And yes, this makes up for it but I’ll only let it slide once, I’m a big aftercare slut which means you put me first before our videos. No exceptions.” 
“Even if we’re desperate for money and need a video up quickly?” Jungkook raised his brows, obviously amused at your dim expression, a wad of the blanket was set for your chin to rest on as your lips jutted a little. 
“No exceptions. Especially after a session like that!” You whined, admittedly you didn’t care that much, it was late at night and you were passed out anyways but still, you needed to make that clear if this continued in the future, you liked being held and told a lot of praise. It was the only way you didn’t feel gross after sex. 
“Fine fine! I’m sorry! I didn’t realize you were such a needy baby,” You squirmed at Jungkook pinching your waist making you jump, “What? I thought you were enjoying yourself.”
“No! No! No!” You screeched at his fingers relentlessly prodding your sides as you squirmed up, pulling the sweatshirt down as you glared at him, “Get off of me!” You whined pushing him away, “I’m fine! I’m great! No need for anymore.” You rubbed your sides with another pout. 
Jungkook snorted as he leaned back on his hands, “That’s what I thought.” Leaning over he grabbed his laptop off the nightstand, crawling over you collapsed against his side as he typed in the password for your account. 
You didn’t expect much truthfully until your eyes lit up at the 10+ notifications you had, “Looks like our luck is up this time!” You bounced in excitement as Jungkook clicked on it only for yours lips to drop. 
33,623 Views
“No way!” Your jaw dropped as you scrambled for your phone, Jungkook just as shocked as you as he scrolled down through the notifications of people commenting and sharing the video. There was no coming back from this at all. You couldn’t help but feel daunted at the greasy comments people left. 
Your brows shooting up as you logged into your joint account, “How much did we make?” Jungkook asked, his lips parted as he clicked through the account attempting to find the salary you both had made. 
“We...definitely covered the cost of our rent.” You could hardly even speak as Jungkook leaned over your shoulder to peer at your screen, over six thousand dollars in the account at the moment, you could do a lot with that kind of money…
Jungkook could hardly believe it himself as he leaned back on his hands, letting out a breath before running a hand through his hair, “Holy shit.” 
It was silent between you both, still staring in disbelief at the money piled in your bank account before you looked at him, “We’re totally eating out tonight, at one of those bougie ass restaurants. My pussy earned it.” 
Jungkook let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head as he gave you a smile, “Fair, not too fancy though, they’ll think we robbed a bank.” You couldn’t help but giggle, feeling relieved as you collapsed against the bed. You could totally do this, and when it was all said and done. You could just delete your account and it’d all be over
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v-hope · 6 months ago
omg so maybe the way y/n would react when someone else flirts with jk and how he’d handle the situation? 🌺
pairing: jeon jeongguk x reader
genre: fluff, slice of life, established relationship, college au
word count: 1.9k
a/n: i don’t think i had ever written y/n being jealous before, it was always the boys somehow so this was fun! thank you so much for requesting! btw, this takes place on their last year of college.
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Jeongguk had eyes for you only.
That was no surprise. You knew that. His friends knew that. Your friends new that. And pretty much everyone with eyes could see that was the case in a heartbeat. It had been that way ever since high school, and now that you had been together for a year and he had you all to himself, it was far from ever changing.
There were certain people, however, who did not know that was the case — strangers mostly, or classmates of his who did just not give a fuck about him having a girlfriend he was madly in love with.
The latter being the case that day.
The two of you had agreed on meeting at the library to get started on a project you had signed up as partners for, as it was pretty much a given by now. And although the library was not your favourite place to go to when it came to get done with college stuff, it was the only place the two of you would truly focus in, which would be much needed this time since you had to turn it in later the next day, yet were just now getting started on, as you had both been too busy with other exams and assignments to even think about this one.
So, he had headed over there as soon as his last class ended, going up to an empty table and taking a seat, wasting no time on leaving his backpack on the chair next to his for no one else to take it as he waited for you. Not like said act of his had been of any help, though, for a girl he recognized from one of his classes —one of the few you were not in with him— had reached his side in a matter of seconds, asking if he could help her out with something from that day’s lecture she had not quite understood, and removing his backpack from the seat he was saving for you; hanging it on the back of the chair as she took a seat next to him before he could even protest.
Biting his tongue as he did not want to sound rude, he decided to just help her out in the meantime you got there. It wouldn’t take that long anyway, would it?
Only it did, for you were taking longer than you should have, and she showed no signs of planning on leaving anytime soon as she didn’t even try to hide her ulterior motives with him — from time to time trying to turn the conversation into a non-academic one, yet having to stick to it as Jeongguk made it clear he was only carrying on with the conversation as long as it was about the class.
“You’re really good at explaining” she smiled brightly, looking up from her textbook and moving her seat closer to him, which only caused him to move his slightly back as he nodded — his awkwardness making an appearance as he did not know what to answer to that. “You think maybe we could go grab some coffee later so we can talk some more about the class?”
“I have a girlfriend” he was quick to go straight to the point, informing her what he knew for a fact she was well aware of, for it was not unusual for you to go wait outside that particular class for him to come out of, since it was right next to yours and you always seemed to be done before him — meeting him with a sweet peck on the lips every single time as everyone else came out of the classroom, her included. “And she’ll be here anytime now, so…”
His classmate had seemed to take a hint as he eyed the chair she was sitting down on, silently asking her to leave. Nevertheless, she did not stand up. “I could really use the help in this class, though…” she pushed it. “Maybe you could give me your number then?”
“Oh, I’m sure you won’t be needing my boyfriend’s number” your voice had both of their heads snapping up in your direction, right as you set two coffee cups on the other side of the table and eyed both the girl next to him and the taken seat you knew was supposed to be yours. “Especially when it comes to something you can so easily ask your teacher about”.
Your cynical smile as you said those words and sat down in front of them, was all it took for the girl to send a glare your way before standing up, sweetly saying goodbye to a quite stunned Jeongguk and then taking off without even looking your way again.
Scoffing at her audacity, you shook your head, not even bothering to look at your boyfriend before you started taking your laptop out of your bag and placed it on the table.
“What took you so long?” he quietly wondered, feeling like he was tiptoeing when it came to finding the right words to say, given your displeased expression.
“Coffee run” you replied simply, staring at your laptop’s screen like your life depended on it as you turned it on.
He bit down on his bottom lip, not being able to ignore the tension in the air, yet having no idea what to do about it either.
It was funny, how before dating you he never had other people approaching him like this, yet now that he was in an established relationship, girls had apparently started to notice him out of a sudden. He was not used to it. He was not used to you being jealous. And although he knew it was not entirely his fault —since he had kept his distance from said girl— and a part of him couldn’t help but feel good about the fact that you were being jealous over him, another part of him did not feel quite as good, for he knew what you were feeling. He had been in your place multiple times when other guys flirted with you, after all, and although you turned down every single one of them, it was still upsetting all the same.
So, not knowing whether he should bring the topic up or not, he had his eyes going to the cups from your go-to coffee shop placed by your side. It was your guys’ usual, he could tell — an iced americano for you and hot chocolate for him.
“Is that one for me?” he pointed at the carton cup that was used for hot beverages.
That had seemed to catch your attention, eyes fixing on the cup he was pointing at and staring at it as you thought about it for a second. And although both of you knew the answer was positive, you shook your head no.
“Couldn’t decide, so I got both for me”.
Jeongguk couldn’t help but let an amused smile curve up the corners of his lips, knowing well enough that was your way of punishing him for letting another girl hit on him. “Oh, so you simultaneously went for a hot and an ice cold drink?”
“Mhm…” you nodded.
“Yah,” he called you out when you still wouldn’t look at him, reaching for your hands and holding them over the table. “Come sit next to me”.
“I’m good”.
“Come onnnn,” he whined with a small pout, pulling on your hands and leaving you no choice but to stand up and go over to him. “I was saving this seat for my favourite girl”.
You couldn’t help but smile at the way he had cooed those words as you sat down next to him, biting on your bottom lip not to let him see, yet being too late as a smile of his own was already taking over his mouth at the sight of yours. Loosely wrapping one of his arms over your shoulders, he pulled you closer to him, laughing under his breath when you could no longer hide your smile after his lips had pressed a lingering kiss to your cheek.
“I thought I was your only girl” you pushed it nevertheless, earning another chuckle from him.
“You are my only girl” he said the obvious. “Plus, my favourite person in the world. There’s nothing to be jealous about”.
You rolled your eyes, focusing them somewhere else as you snorted. “Wasn’t jealous” your bitter words told him otherwise. “She’s pretty, though…”
Jeongguk sighed, cupping your face in his hands and resting his forehead on yours. “I’ve had eyes for no one else but you ever since I first saw you in high school, petal. You know that” his thumbs drew tender circles on your cheeks. “I didn’t even look at her”.
“You didn’t turn her down when she asked for your number, though”.
“Did I even get the chance to?” he pointed out softly with a breathy laugh, bringing heat to your face as you were reminded of the fact you had answered for him the second the question had left that girl’s mouth. “I told her I got a girlfriend before you arrived, okay?” his mouth pressed a brief kiss to your nose. “Don’t be silly now, you know I love you”.
You smiled softly, nodding your head to let him know it was alright, and then giggling when the loving peck he had just pressed to your mouth was followed by another kiss — a much longer, slower one, as he tilted your head slightly back and sucked on your bottom lip.
“We’re in the library” you reminded him in a whisper, voice coming out muffled as you spoke against his lips.
“And you’re the only one I want” he cheesily answered, smiling at your amused reaction and pressing another kiss to your mouth before pulling away. “Now that we’ve established the facts, shall we get started on the project?”
Shaking your head in amusement, you reached for your laptop on the other side of the table and brought it up to you — then reaching for the carton cup as well and sliding it in front of him. “You’ve earned your lame hot chocolate, you sweet bastard”.
A light laugh escaped his mouth at what you had just called him, leaning in closer to you once again. “And a little smooch?” he puckered up his lips.
Getting a laugh out of you at the way he was picking up on the things you usually said, you couldn’t deny him of his petition, placing your hand behind his neck and pulling him towards you so you could press two chaste kisses to his smiling mouth.
“And an ‘I love you, bun’?” he pushed it.
“Yah,” you were the one to call him out this time with a small laugh. “All the attention has really boosted your confidence, hasn’t it?”
He giggled, saying nothing as he instead grabbed his cup and took a sip of the drink you had gotten him. You were right though, for the attention, love and praise you had given him for the past year had indeed helped one hell of a lot when it came to boosting his previous nonexistent confidence.
“Will you say it, though?”
Shaking your head no, you laughed under your breath and leaned closer to the table as you started typing down on your laptop instead. “I love you, bun”.
Although you had not even looked at him as you gave in —embarrasingly fast— and mumbled the words he had been waiting for, he smiled the brightest, knowing he had managed to lift your mood and gotten some love from you altogether.
Funny how you had came to the library so you could focus on the project, yet all he wanted and could think about right then was kissing you over and over — until the last bit of jealousy you had felt that day abandoned your body.
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gukyi · 5 months ago
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the art of the rom-com | jjk
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summary: FILM395, the art of the rom-com, was supposed to be an easy a with one of your favorite professors, but it’s not. it’s actually a sisyphean torture that comes in the form of fellow film student jeon jungkook, who has no problem responding to every one of your discussion posts about the consumerist ideals underlying every romance movie with his own paragraphs on the beauty of love like the hopeless romantic he is. and when the two of you find yourselves partnered up for your final project, which is to create a short film on rom-coms, jungkook decides to take it upon himself to show you what love is really like.
{enemies to lovers!au, college!au}
pairing: film major!jungkook x film major!reader (female) genre: fluff, comedy, slight angst, this is literally a rom-com in fic form word count: 33k warnings: college alcohol consumption, discussion board posts, emotionally constipated characters, film major shenanigans, blonde jungkook who’s also in a hip hop dance troupe, miscommunication, if you hate rom-coms do not read this fic
a/n: i am so so so excited to share this monster of a jungkook fic (tho let’s be real, 30k is pretty standard for me now ;-;) with you all! this is basically rom-com trash, but it’s my rom-com trash, and i hope you all enjoy!
on a sadder, less exciting note: after this fic i will be taking an extended writing hiatus until at least the beginning of may. my semester is picking up and i unfortunately just don’t currently have any upcoming fics planned for you guys. i hope you understand!! maybe i’ll do a couple of ask games here and there to see if anything piques my interest, but other than that please do not expect major works of writing for a while. love you all!
500 Days of Summer is a movie you all have probably seen before. That being said, I encourage you to respond to this discussion board from a film perspective as opposed to a viewer’s perspective. How did 500 Days of Summer alter the classic narrative of boy-meets-girl? Do you think it was a smart move, on the parts of Webb, Neustadter, and Weber, to do so? Why or why not?
Jeon Jungkook on February 12th at 9:53PM
I thought that the change in the boy-meets-girl narrative that had been popularized by rom-coms of the 1990s definitely contributed to his popularity and its attractiveness towards viewers in general. The film makes it clear that the story does not have a so-called happy ending, but despite that, it still brings into discussion the idea of love and soulmates and true connection. And that’s important, because despite the film’s not-so-happy ending, it makes it a point to emphasize that those things are real. That love is real. I thought it was an excellent move on the parts of the writers and director, because they both broke standards in terms of happy endings in rom-coms and they stayed true to the message at hand. 
Y/N Y/L/N on February 12th at 10:29PM
I have to disagree with Jungkook. It’s obvious the movie is not going to have a happy ending because Tom is so obsessed with the version of Summer he has created in his head that he doesn’t even see who the real girl is anymore. It doesn’t have a happy ending not because they weren’t soulmates, or because their love wasn’t right. They break up because what Tom wants and what Summer wants are fundamentally different, and Tom just can’t accept the fact that Summer doesn’t love him the way he wants her to. In a desperate quest to keep her, though, he manifests this version of her and replaces the actual Summer with it, ultimately destroying their relationship. How could viewers ever have faith that Tom would eventually get his happy ending if the only proof of his commitment to relationships they have is him manufacturing a different girl to fall in love with?
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When you walk into class, Jeon Jungkook is already there. 
He sits in the front row, the seat closest to the door in your puny little classroom, much too small for twenty-students to fit comfortably, let alone watch movies on the pull-down projector screen above the chalkboard. You’re convinced he’s chosen that seat just so he can grin at you whenever you walk in the room, always later than him because apparently, he has nothing better to do with his time than show up to class early and smirk at you when you arrive. 
As you shuffle past his seat towards your own—second row, middle of the room, centered with the lecturer’s podium—with your usual scowl drawn neatly across your face, Jungkook says, overly bright and cheery, “Good morning, Y/N.”
The sound of his voice alone is enough to make your nose scrunch up in further disgust. “Shut up,” you grumble back, stuffing yourself into your chair and pulling out your laptop. One row in front of you and five seats to the right, you see Jungkook chuckle. 
Glowering, you open up your Notes document for the class and try to avoid staring at Jungkook’s side profile, the way he’s slouching lazily in his seat, and what looks to be a lengthy paragraph on his computer screen, a task that proves to be particularly difficult because he happens to sit in the exact spot you have to look in order to see your professor enter the room. What the hell is he even writing, anyway?
He straightens up the moment she does, cheerful as always as she smiles at everyone. “Good morning, everyone.”
The lot of you respond with halfhearted smiles and waves. 
“I can just feel the enthusiasm radiating throughout the room,” she jokes, clenching her fists together in success. At least that gets a couple of you to laugh. “Which is great, because before we get to anything today, we’re gonna talk about the final project.”
You smile to yourself, immediately pulling up the copy of the syllabus you had downloaded to your desktop, scrolling right down to where she had outlined information about the final project in big, bolded letters. There are a lot of reasons you’ve taken this class, not the least of which is the fact that you have had Professor Pollack three times prior to this and she’s loved you in every class, but the final project was definitely one of the major selling points. 
Pollack pulls up a more detailed final project document on the projector as she steps out from behind the podium. “As you guys know, your final project is a thirty-to-forty minute short film involving rom-coms. You guys have a lot of freedom, it can be a rom-com, it could be a documentary about rom-coms, anything. It just needs to involve the topic of rom-coms somehow. I know a lot of you have actor friends who would be more than happy to have a star-crossed lovers fling or whatever. Go wild. Just keep it PG-13, because I can’t in good faith have nude bodies of your fellow college students on my screen.”
You snort to yourself. Makes you wonder how many times Pollack has seen sex scenes of college students on her screen before. Too many, probably. 
Unintentionally, your eyes drift over to Jungkook. He seems to be working on that hefty paragraph of his, typing something you assume is completely unrelated to the topic at hand and is further proof that Jungkook just doesn’t give a shit about anything involving this class. Whatever. You turn back to Pollack. 
“Good projects not only capture the essence of what a rom-com is, but also put their own twist on the story and bring into question the topics we discuss in class, like truthfulness, realistic portrayals of love, and viewer interpretation,” she continues, and with every word you feel heart beat faster in excitement. “I know you’re all excellent filmmakers. That’s why you’ve taken this class. But what I want you to do is get into the nitty-gritty of the makeup of a rom-com and distill it as much as possible. We’ll be watching them all in class during the last week. Yes, Celia?”
You all turn to look at Celia, who sits in the third row, second seat from the left. “This is a partner project, right?” 
Well. That’s the one downside. As much as you know that cooperation is an important life skill, you would much rather prefer to produce the entire movie yourself. But you love Pollack and you already know you’re on track to get a good grade in this class, so whatever. You’ll deal. 
As long as you can pick your teammate. 
“Yes,” Pollack affirms, “and with that excellent segue, I will now announce your partners.”
Shit. 
Pollack pulls out a folded piece of paper from her back pocket, like she had just come up with the arrangements on the morning train ride to campus, and begins reading. Slowly, as she ticks off names one by one, everyone begins to turn around, locking eyes with their partners and exchanging guess-it’s-us-two-huh? smiles. Everyone except—
“And lastly, Jungkook and Y/N.”
You freeze in place. You look up at your professor, eyes wide and shocked, because nobody knows better than her how much the two of you have been butting heads this entire semester. But when you meet her eyes and she smiles knowingly, shrugging her shoulders, you know you’re doomed. Hesitantly, almost like you’re scared to find out what happens when you do, you shift your gaze towards where Jungkook sits in the front right corner of the room. Only he’s not just sitting. He’s turned a full one hundred-and-eighty degrees just so he can smirk at you from across the room, a glint in his eye. 
Jungkook laughs at your cold-stone, shellshocked reaction. Like he knows how much you’ll hate this, and you know how much he’ll enjoy it. 
From here, you actually have a pretty good view of his laptop screen, brightness turned all the way up because he apparently doesn’t care who reads his screen. Or maybe he just likes showing off how much he writes so he can establish dominance over everyone else. Except you, of course. But when you look a little closer, you notice he’s got the class discussion board for the week up on his Chrome window, two paragraphs typed into the text box. 
Right above is your response to his comment. 
Is that what he was working on? His reply to your reply? Right now? He has the audacity to draft it right here, in front of you, where he knows you can see? He doesn’t even care that you’re blatantly staring at it. In fact, he actually seems to be relishing in it.
You’re so caught off guard by the contents of his computer screen that when you look back up at him on instinct, you catch a wink in your direction. 
Your fists tighten by your side. 
Class is rather uneventful after the whole partner fiasco, as Pollack transitions into your usual dose of a short lecture on the film and then a class discussion that goes absolutely nowhere because everyone is too concerned with the final project to care. Whatever you talk about, you will be hard pressed to know, because you spend the entire rest of the period scowling at the blank page of your Notes document as you try to formulate a way to convince Pollack to change your partner. Would she accept a dozen doughnuts as a bribe? A box is only ten dollars from Dunkin’.
When Pollack finally shuts her laptop screen and begins her weekly goodbye spiel, you are the first one out of the room. Hastily, you stuff your laptop into your bag, zip it up as best as you can (which means that the tops of your water bottle and umbrella are sticking out, but who cares), and shuffle out the room right as Pollack is bidding you all farewell, just so you don’t have to look at Jungkook’s stupid, smug little grin on the way out. 
Faintly, you remember Pollack saying something about getting your partner’s contact information so you can start working, but fuck that. Jungkook knows your name. He can find you. If you must spend the entire semester communicating through Instagram DMs, then so be it. You’ve communicated with men in worse ways. Like through LinkedIn.
There’s a small seating area half a flight down from where your puny little classroom is, a few tables and a bench that wraps around the wall, posters splayed out on the corkboard to the right, staples littering both the board and the floor it rests above. Nobody ever seems to use this, despite the innumerable posters advertising everything from dance troupe shows to financial literacy talks, which makes it the perfect place for you to brood and gather your thoughts. It’s also in the direct opposite direction of the exit. So that’s good.
Taking your anger out on your personal belongings (as opposed to that bitchass smirk on Jungkook’s face), you begin to shove your umbrella and water bottle into the pocket of your backpack, fighting to nestle them amongst your other worldly possessions, like your pencil case and what looks to be a small nest of receipts at the bottom of the back. No wonder it’s so clogged up down there. 
If anything gives you a sense of control, it’s cleaning. One by one, you pluck out the receipts from your bag, nose scrunching up as you try to remember every purchase you’ve made in the past three months. Plus, one of these receipts is from when you bought some dryer sheets from CVS, so that means the five inches of actual information are also accompanied by three feet of coupons that expired two weeks ago. Ugh, what a waste. 
“Don’t look so angry, you’ll have to get used to seeing this face a lot.”
You look up from where you’ve been inspecting an old receipt from a midnight McDonald’s trip to find Jungkook standing in front of you, backpack hanging loosely on his bomber jacket-clad shoulder and that same stupid grin written all over his same stupid face. 
“Can I help you?” You drawl. Great. Now Jungkook can add “saw all her receipts” to the list of embarrassing things he’s caught you doing. 
“Can I help you?” Jungkook fires back with a scoff, blonde hair bouncing as he jerks his head flippantly. “Looks like someone needs to take an Accounting class or something.”
“I’m just doing some spring cleaning,” you sneer. It’s February. “What do you want?”
“What, no ‘Hello, partner’? ‘So excited to be working with you this semester’? I’m hurt,” Jungkook says, placing a hand to his heart as he shakes his head disapprovingly. “I thought we had something good, Y/N. Isn’t that why Pollack paired us up?”
You’re pretty sure she just likes watching the world burn. 
“Don’t flatter yourself,” you chide, knowing that Jungkook already must get enough of a kick out of just seeing the annoyed look on your face. 
“Please, like I even need to. You think I don’t notice the way you stare at me during class? I know you must like what you see,” Jungkook flirts, just to be extra irritating. 
While he’s stroking his own ego, you tear off a piece of that CVS receipt, one of the expired coupons for Three Dollars Off Any Shampoo or Conditioner, and scribble your number on the back. The rest of the receipts you scoop up and dump in the trash can to your right before you zip up your backpack and hike it over your shoulder. 
“Here,” you say gruffly, shoving the paper against his chest as you head towards the stairwell. 
“How forward of you, Y/N, you know you could have just asked—”
Pausing right before you turn the corner and head out the door, you turn back to look at Jungkook, already exhausted from having to interact with him for five minutes. “And when you’re done jerking yourself off,” you say pointedly, “text me.”
You storm out the door.
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[February 13th, 1:24PM]
Unknown Number: guess who ;)
You: Wow I have NO idea You: Keanu Reeves?
Unknown Number: haha very funny Unknown Number: it’s jungkook
You: Damn shame You: You done jerking off yet
Maybe: Jungkook: what makes you think i’m not doing that right now ;)))
You: You don’t have the coordination to text me and masturbate at the same time You: What do you want
Jungkook: ouch, harsh Jungkook: can’t i just want to talk to my final project partner? :D
[February 13th, 2:17PM]
Jungkook: alright fine Jungkook: just wanna see when you wanna meet up
You: Guess I don’t have a choice do I
Jungkook: unless you wanna facetime
You: Is that an option?
Jungkook: how about friday at 3 Jungkook: in one of the greene gsrs
You: You think you can manage to reserve one of those?
Jungkook: watch me
[February 13th, 2:21PM]
Jungkook: [screenshot sent] Jungkook: done
You: Do you want a gold star for all that hard work you just did? All that manual labor? You: Fine. See you then.
Jungkook: miss you already <3
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Y/N Y/L/N on February 12th at 10:29PM
I have to disagree with Jungkook. It’s obvious the movie is not going to have a happy ending because Tom is so obsessed with the version of Summer he has created in his head that he doesn’t even see who the real girl is anymore. It doesn’t have a happy ending not because they weren’t soulmates, or because their love wasn’t right. They break up because what Tom wants and what Summer wants are fundamentally different, and Tom just can’t accept the fact that Summer doesn’t love him the way he wants her to. In a desperate quest to keep her, though, he manifests this version of her and replaces the actual Summer with it, ultimately destroying their relationship. How could viewers ever have faith that Tom would eventually get his happy ending if the only proof of his commitment to relationships they have is him manufacturing a different girl to fall in love with?
Jeon Jungkook on February 13th at 7:35PM.
You make a good point, Y/N, but I think you missed the whole point of the movie. It’s not about their breakup or the not-so-happy ending or even Tom’s problems. It’s about the journey they go on and what Tom learns in the process. If you watch the trailer then you’d go into the movie knowing they weren’t gonna last. The results of whatever Tom and Summer do to contribute to their eventual breakup should not come as a surprise to the viewer. The whole point of the movie is that they spent five hundred days together and Tom is now recounting those days to anyone who will watch. And you know who’s watching? People who want to hear a story. About love. And loss. And everything in between. Isn’t that the whole reason we watch romance movies anyway?
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Sometimes, you wonder if the garishness of Professor Pollack’s shoebox-sized office is the reason not very many students attend her office hours. The walls are lined with movie posters taken from a theater going out of business, the shelves stuffed to the brim with Disney World trinkets and old film memorabilia. She’s installed these thick red velvet curtains along her single window, making the whole room look like some sort of 1950s movie lair. 
In a way, you suppose it kind of is. 
You hear the taps of her Converse shoes as they come down the hallway and round the corner into the office.
“You know, Y/N, I was surprised to see you signed up for my office hours when I logged in this morning,” Pollack says as she enters the room, handing you the coffee in her right hand as she takes a sip out of the one from her left. Last year, the film department bought a Breville coffee maker with the leftover funds from a movie showing fundraiser and it is, in your humble opinion, the best investment the department has ever made.
“Why? I see you all the time,” you ask, eyebrows raised. You and Professor Pollack are not lacking in social connection. She’s written you a letter of recommendation and she knows your coffee order. 
“The very first time we ever spoke outside of class, you sat down at my Starbucks table while I was eating lunch just so you could introduce yourself and ask me about my opinion on the Mamma Mia remake,” she deadpans. “We don’t exactly speak through official forums.”
Well, she’s got you there. 
“I know…” you begin, trailing off awkwardly as you take a sip of your coffee. It’s burning hot and scalds your tongue a little, but it’s nice. It’s been cold recently. “But I just thought we could talk… privately.”
Pollack rolls her eyes as she reclines in her chair, back hitting the padding of the chair with a thud. “Goodness, I wonder what you’re here to talk to me about.”
“Okay, please pardon my French, but what the freak, Professor?” You say, because the words have been sitting hot on your tongue ever since you walked into your office and you didn’t think sending an email that looked like:
To: tpollack@university.edu From: y/n@university.edu Subject: what the freak
Dear Professor Pollack,
What the freak?????????
Cheers, Y/N
would be very professional on your part. 
Pollack lets out this honk of a laugh, loud and sudden, shaking her head fondly. “Come on, Y/N. You must have known I would have partnered the two of you up.”
“I was hoping you’d let us choose?” You emphasize. 
“And miss out on what very well may be one of the best final projects of the class, produced by my two best students of the semester? Absolutely not,” she says, smiling knowingly at you. 
Even her sudden reveal that you happen to be one her best students this semester isn’t enough to soothe your worries and calm your anger. You’re honored, but you have bigger problems. Problems that start with ‘Jeon’ and end with ‘Jungkook’. 
Pollack looks at your beaten-down expression and leans forward, placing her coffee cup on the wooden desk in front of her. “Listen, Y/N. You’re an excellent student and one of the most talented filmmakers I’ve seen in a long time. Your discussion posts are detailed, well-written, and thought-provoking. I know that the two of you will make a great project.”
You scoff. “We can’t agree on a single thing.”
“Sometimes that happens in life, and you just have to deal with it,” Pollack says sagely. 
“So I can’t change partners?”
“Not unless you’d like to fail the final,” Pollack comments, shrugging. How rude of her to say such a thing, not taking the option to change partners off the table entirely but making it so that if you do, you’ll pretty much be shooting yourself in the foot. Or worse. 
You narrow your eyes at her. “That’s low.”
“That’s life,” she corrects. 
“Ugh.” You get up out of your seat, taking angry sips of your coffee as you desperately try to think of another way to get out of it. Are doughnuts still an option?
“I have full faith that the both of you will come up with an excellent project,” Pollack says like it’s some sort of consolation as she walks you to the door to her office. Yeah, right. You and Jungkook spend your free time making snide responses to each other’s discussion posts like it’s nobody’s business. You’re probably the only two people at your entire university that care enough to make replies to each other’s replies. Like Tinder from hell. “You shouldn’t be worried, Y/N.”
“I’m not worried,” you say, completely worried. “I just—I don’t know how Jungkook and I will get along.”
Pollack grins to herself. Does she know something you don’t? Is she up to something? She looks at you as you linger in the doorway, feeling utterly helpless after a meeting that accomplished absolutely nothing, and she smiles. 
“You’ll find a way.” 
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Reserving a group study room in the Greene Library and Collection should not be some gymnastics act that involves a warm-up, practice, a routine, and song and dance. In theory, all you have to do is log onto the library’s homepage, navigate to the reservations tab, enter your name and ID number, pick a date and time, and profit. 
Of course, the demand for the study rooms does tend to outweigh the supply. There are over ten thousand students at your university. And only twenty rooms. 
And still, you have the unfortunate luck of being stuck in one of them for an hour and a half with none other than Jeon Jungkook. 
You see him coming into the library at 3PM sharp through the opposite entrance, a little surprised he didn’t show up ten minutes early like he does in class, just so he would have an excuse to complain about having to wait for you. Feeling a little threatened, you pick up the pace so that you can meet his lengthy stride, keeping an eye on his direction so you know which room he’s aiming for.
You arrive at Greene GSR #18 at the exact same time.
“So nice to see you,” Jungkook says, too cheerful, as you reach out to open the door. 
“Mmm,” you mumble in response as you enter the room, flinging your backpack onto the floor by your chair with a thud as you take a seat. The faster you start, the faster you can get this over with.
Jungkook, not at all outwardly discouraged by your clear disdain for him, rallies on happily. “So, what were you thinking for the project?” But he doesn’t even let you open your mouth to answer before he says, “Oh, wait, let me guess: a social commentary on the consumerist ideals that underline every modern movie and encourage the pursuit of an empty dream by abandoning concrete career and personal goals in favor of romantic fulfillment.”
You scowl at him, even though that’s exactly what you were thinking of doing. You’re almost positive Pollack’s had enough of seeing college students try to engineer the craziest fake dating scenarios they can imagine just for a class project. Why not do something outside of the box? 
“Well, then what do you want to do?” You challenge, already bristling. Like Jungkook has a better idea. 
“Maybe something that doesn’t scream ‘killjoy’ as much as you do,” Jungkook retorts easily. He opens his mouth to spit out something else but then rolls his eyes and shrugs, shaking his head. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have even asked.”
“Don’t pin this on me,” you immediately rebuke, pointing at him. “You’re the one who wants to make some sort of generic rom-com for our final project. Besides, I’m pretty sure every idea you even think of will have been done already.”
“Just because something is cliche doesn’t make it bad,” Jungkook says. “I swear, I don’t think you understand what the word cliche even means. A cliche thing, by default, is something that lots of people like. Therefore, it is largely well-received by the general public.”
“Oh, then that must mean that all rom-coms are deserving of a People’s Choice Award then, right?”
Jungkook frowns, getting exasperated. You aren’t much farther off. “I don’t know why you’re being so—so resistant! You know that romantic comedies are supposed to be fun, right?” 
“They’re not that fun to me,” you comment snidely. 
“That’s because you’re a stick in the mud who takes everything way too seriously,” Jungkook replies like it’s some sort of known fact. “Have you ever even been in a relationship?”
“That’s none of your business,” you tell him firmly. Who does he think he is, going around asking that sort of thing? Especially to you! Like you could care any less about what Jungkook thinks of your love life. Intrusive, much? “Besides, you asking that is exactly my point. Not everything has to be about finding love and searching for your soulmate or whatever bullshit like that. Some people don’t really care that much.”
“You act like wanting to find love and wanting to be successful are mutually exclusive,” Jungkook points out. “You don’t have to abandon all of your life goals just to find love, you know. It doesn’t have to be the most important thing in your life for you to even care about it a little. It’s natural for people to want love.”
“Then I guess I’m just a robot.”
“You sure are acting like one,” Jungkook comments easily. “What, are you about to ask me to pick out all of the pictures with traffic lights?”
“I’m allowed to have my own views on love, just like you,” you say. Isn’t that the whole point of your discussion boards? A forum where you can discuss these sorts of things through an academic lens? A barrier that keeps the two of you from going at each other’s throats when you’re engaging in the class material? It doesn’t take a genius, or even half of one, to know that you and Jungkook can’t seem to agree on anything in your FILM395 class. 
Jungkook scoffs. “What do you mean, ‘your own views on love’? As far as I’m aware, your view on love is that you don’t have one! What do you even think love really is?”
You frown at him. “Does it matter?”
“Yes,” Jungkook says like it’s obvious. “This project is about filming a short romantic comedy, about people falling in love with each other. How do you expect me to do that if we don’t reach a mutual agreement on what love is?”
You scoff. “There is no way in hell I am going to agree with you on anything concerning love.” Jeon Jungkook still thinks love is all rainbows and sunshine. Cries at the end of Love, Actually even though he’s seen it five times already. Believes in soulmates. Believes there are people out there that were built for each other. He flutters from one person to the next like a butterfly, even though he’s more like a moth drawn to any open flame within a five-mile radius. He’s convinced he’ll find his true love here, in college, just like his parents found each other. 
Yeah, right.
“Then what are we supposed to do, huh?” He says with an eyebrow raised. “We have a month to make a movie that’s fifty percent of our grade.”
“The social commentary is still on the table,” you point out. Sure, it’s not at all a romantic comedy, but it’s about them, which Pollack said was totally fine. Besides, she has been teaching you the entire semester, hasn’t she? She should know by now not to expect some cushy lovey-dovey story about two people who were destined to be with each other and can overcome all obstacles with their love. 
Deep down, a part of you wonders if that’s why she paired you up with Jungkook. If she’s had enough of the sappy love stories that Jungkook probably wanted to do, didn’t want to see another cynical commentary on capitalism in Hollywood.
“Wow, what a thrilling idea,” Jungkook deadpans. “Please, tell me more.” His voice is lifeless. 
“Oh, shut up. It’s not like your idea would be any better. Who would we even get to star in a rom-com we filmed? It’s not like the two of us could do it.”
You regret the words the instant they come out of your mouth. In horror, you watch as they sink into Jungkook’s brain, etching themselves into his mind as a lightbulb turns on, a bright idea popping into his thoughts. 
He opens his mouth, but you get there first. “No. Whatever you’re thinking, absolutely not. I am not starring in a rom-com with you.”
That is something you can say with one-hundred percent confidence. Something that you know will never change. 
“Just hear me out,” Jungkook pleads, looking a little desperate as he wrings his hands together, aching to spill the bubbling plan that’s been stewing in his head. 
You narrow your eyes in suspicion but lean back into your chair, a silent signal for him to continue. It’s not as if you have any better idea.s 
“Okay. It’s not a rom-com. It’s a mockumentary,” he says, something that (and you can’t believe you’re saying this) actually piques your interest. Moreso than anything else he’s ever said to you. “You think love is totally manufactured, right? That Hollywood creates the illusion of it to sell to people paying twenty dollars for a movie ticket?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s do that. Let’s prove it’s manufactured.”
“And how do you plan on doing that?” It’s not like you can walk into a factory and ask them to make the “love” emotion for you. 
“We’ll be the stars.”
He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Like it’s your best idea by a long shot, the home run of all home runs, your golden ticket to an A.
You scrunch up your nose, hesitant. “Wait, I don’t know—”
“It’s perfect!” Jungkook exclaims, eyes wide with excitement. “Think about it. It’ll be a mockumentary of a stereotypical rom-com. Except it won’t be this big Hollywood production, it’ll be real life. And it won’t be between two paid actors with years of experience under their belt, it’ll be us.” His eyes are practically bulging out of his head, big brown eyes glinting with excitement.
“So what are we gonna do? Act out our own rom-com in an attempt to see if either one of us will fall in love with the other?” You say, an eyebrow raised. 
Jungkook shakes his head. “Not necessarily. It’s a mockumentary, right? So it’s grounded in real life even if it is based upon the stereotypical boy-meets-girl rom-com. It won’t be super scripted or anything. Think of it more like… a chronicle.”
You scoff. “Of what?”
“Of us,” Jungkook says easily. “Of the time we have to spend together to film this damn project anyway. I say that rom-coms are emblematic of the natural human desire for love, and that deep down love is the thing that makes us happy. You say that rom-coms are consumerist propaganda, or whatever it is you think they are—”
“They are, and you can’t change my mind about that,” you interrupt, just for clarity. Can’t have Jungkook thinking he’s going to somehow convince you otherwise.
“—so, with this project, let’s see which one of us is right. If the time we have to spend together, making this mockumentary rom-com, will really change how we feel about each other, or if it won’t.”
How you feel about each other? You almost laugh when Jungkook says it out loud. There’s no room for questioning in your mind when it comes to how you two feel about each other. Two desperate-to-please students with opposite views on the entire structure of a class and three years of experience arguing your points in essays under your belts. 
Jungkook believes in destiny, right? Then he must know that the two of you are destined to never get along.
“You should be a car salesman,” you joke. Jungkook’s certainly excellent at pitches.
“So, you in?”
You narrow your eyes, still a little wary of whatever it is Jungkook’s putting down. But it’s not like you have any better ideas. And the sooner you agree on something, the sooner you can get this goddamn project over with and never have to sit in class with Jeon Jungkook ever again. 
“Only because this’ll finally prove to you that not everything can be solved by finding love,” you say. It’s about as good of a ‘yes’ as he’s going to get out of you. 
Jungkook grins, mischievous as always. There’s certainly something else he’s plotting, you just aren’t sure what. Maybe he’s in cahoots with Pollack. “Or,” he begins, lips curling upwards, “you’ll just fall in love with me.”
You scoff. “Yeah, right.”
“Well, then I guess we’ll just have to see, won’t we?” He holds out his hand, palm facing up as he waits for your response, that devilish glint that you hate twinkling in his eyes. 
As if you’re going to fall in love with Jungkook. For this stupid project? No way. Just because it’s a filmmaking project doesn’t make it any more bearable than your other assignments. It’s a partner project. They are, by their very nature, excruciating. You’ll be surprised if you end this project and you aren’t even more irritated with Jungkook. Does he really think you’ll actually develop some sort of affection for him?
You take his hand on your own, palm pressed against his, and you eye him carefully. Just because Jungkook’s got something up his sleeve doesn’t mean you don’t. Finally, finally, Jungkook will see why love is stupid and manufactured and fake. Why it doesn’t bring people together but instead tears them apart. 
Maybe then he’ll leave you and your discussion posts in peace.
You smile up at him. 
“I guess we will.”
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When Ruby Rhodes is not six feet deep in The Princeton Review’s MCAT test prep book, she can usually be found at the small bakery five blocks west and two blocks north of your little campus, a family-owned place passed down through three generations. It’s her favorite place, and yours, too, because the coffee is delicious and the pastries are even better. 
Plus, hardly anyone from your school ever comes here, which means the wifi speed is eons better than the Starbucks inside the main food court. 
She’s halfway through a tiramisu and a rerun of The Bachelor from two seasons ago when you sit down across from her. 
“Any good?” You ask, pulling out your laptop and squeezing it onto the tiny marble table in between the two of you. 
“The food or the show?” Ruby asks over a mouthful of cake. 
“Either.” 
Ruby swallows down the piece sitting on her tongue before responding. “The tiramisu is delicious, and The Bachelor is eh. I’ve seen this episode three times already.”
“Then why are you watching it again?” You ask, laughing. Does Ruby think something different is going to happen?
“Because we’re in between weeks right now and honestly, The Bachelor is kind of dry this season,” Ruby says with a frown. 
“You’ve got some tiramisu on your cheek,” you tell her, pointing to the left side of her face where the bright mascarpone cream sticks out like a sore thumb against her dark skin. 
“It’s just so yummy, I can’t help but stick my whole face in it,” Ruby jokes as she wipes her face with the napkin on her lap. The Bachelor rerun plays on in the background, and you can hear the gasps of the women through Ruby’s discarded headphones. 
You roll your eyes. “Why do you even watch that show still? You know it’s all crap.”
“Just because you think it’s crap doesn’t mean I do,” Ruby insists, playing out an argument the two of you have had plenty of times over the course of your friendship. “Watching it makes me happy. So I do it.”
“But it’s all fake,” you say, frowning in disapproval. “The couples don’t even stay together in the end anyway.”
“It’s a totally pre-constructed show, but it’s not fake in the moment. And I don’t expect the final couple to stay together.” She shrugs nonchalantly. “Believe me, I’ve seen enough Bachelor seasons to know those odds. I just like watching the ride. It’s cute.”
“You say that about everything.”
“That’s because everything is cute,” Ruby says pointedly. “I like seeing the good in people.”
Ruby’s always been the exact opposite of you in terms of worldviews. The embodiment of a real-life fairy. She puts butterfly clips in her hair and buys herself bouquets of daisies and lilies. She sits in cafes with her headphones in and sketches the people she sees outside the window. She’s studying to be a doctor so she can spend the rest of her life helping others. 
And you? 
Well, the Oscars have always been a bit of a long shot. 
The curiosity eating at you, you pose a question to her. “Hypothetically, if there were to exist a mockumentary on rom-coms and love, would you watch it?”
Ruby pauses for a second as she furrows her brows. Then she shrugs and says, “Only if the two leads fell in love at the end. Why?”
“No reason,” you say, looking away. 
There’s no fooling Ruby and her eagle eyes. 
“What is it?” She asks, a grin playing at her lips as she looks at you. “Come on, you don’t just ask me shit like that without a reason.”
“It’s for a final project,” you explain succinctly. No need to go into details. 
“You’re making a rom-com for a final project?” Ruby sounds about as skeptical as you did when you spoke to Jungkook. 
“It’s a mockumentary about rom-coms.”
“But… it’s a rom-com, right? Like, you’re going to be making a rom-com? Where people fall in love?”
Hopefully not. 
“Sort of?”
Ruby squints her eyes, trying to process all the information. You’re not surprised that she has to take a moment to think—you are certainly the last person on earth to ever admit to filming a rom-com. But, as you’ve stated, it’s not a rom-com. It’s a mockumentary about them. That distinction is vital.
“Wait, is this for that class with Pollack?” Ruby asks. “I remember you telling me you were taking it. You said this was a partner project, though, right? So who are you working with?”
Curse Ruby and her knack for remembering things. She’ll make a great doctor, that’s for sure, but right now you wish she would just forget things like everybody else. 
You sigh. “Jungkook.”
Ruby doesn’t need to think twice about who that is. “Wait, seriously? You’re working with him? Isn’t he the guy that responds to all your discussion posts?”
“Yes,” you say, rubbing your temples with your fingertips. You don’t even like thinking about him, let alone saying his name. The fact that he has to occupy any part of your brain at all gives you a headache.
“Damn, that sucks,” Ruby says, not feeling very sorry for you at all. “So you’re filming a rom-com with him?”
“It’s a mockumentary,” you specify, feeling yourself getting irritated. “It is fake.”
“Just like my shows, huh?” Ruby muses to herself, too analytical for her own good. 
“Listen, you don’t need to fall in love to make a mockumentary about it,” you say, refusing to consider any sort of alternative. 
“Don’t you?”
You sneer. “Just shut up and eat your tiramisu.”
Ruby lets out a laugh at that, this wonderful mix between a wheeze and a honk that makes you smile every time you hear it, even if it’s at your own expense. Ruby decides she’s had enough of mentally torturing you with the thought of feeling anything but extreme distaste towards Jungkook and goes back to her show, letting you brood in peace. 
You don’t need to fall in love to make a film about it. Just like you don’t need to be a masterchef to film Gordon Ramsey screaming at someone who undercooked chicken. You’re a filmmaker. You can make a film out of anything. Including love. Even if it is with someone like Jungkook. 
Can’t you?
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Jeon Jungkook may be a disillusioned college student in love with the idea of love itself, but at least he’s not too shabby of a filmmaker. 
Funnily enough, it actually sort of surprises you that you’ve never encountered each other before. Especially considering you’re in the same major program at your school, a program that only accepts about fifty students per year at most. You suppose that in whatever general program classes you had to take in freshman and sophomore year you just never crossed paths. Plus, he’s a filmmaking concentration and you’re doing screenwriting, so it’s very possible that you would have just never spoken had the two of you not registered for the same semester of FILM395.
Huh. Imagine that. A life without him. 
Sort of makes you wish you had put this class off for one more semester. 
As the two of you kickstart your project, you both immediately agree that you need a third person’s help. You and Jungkook can do plenty, but you are only two people. And there’s nothing in the final project guidelines that says you can’t enlist other people to partake in the production. But you don’t need help with the filming and editing. You need help with the interviews. 
“Is this bedsheet good enough?” Kim Taehyung, a senior in the film program, asks as he’s Command-stripping a queen-sized black bedsheet to an empty wall in the living room of his tiny one-bedroom apartment. 
“As long as it fits into the frame,” Jungkook responds from where he’s standing behind the camera, set up on a tripod to capture a specific angle. “You’re not going to be in the shot anyway. You’ll just be asking the questions.”
“Good, because I look really ugly right now,” Taehyung says with a grin. You roll your eyes. Taehyung must know he always looks good. Even you can’t deny him of that. 
“This is ridiculous,” you say, seated on the singular couch in his apartment. You’re leaning on your elbow as you watch Taehyung fiddle with the bedsheet and Jungkook futz with the camera, the two of them repositioning themselves over and over again until everything’s perfect. “What are you even gonna ask us?”
“I came up with some… preliminary questions,” Taehyung says suggestively. “But I haven’t told either of you what they are so that your reactions can be more genuine.”
“Great,” you deadpan. 
“Wow, someone’s excited,” Jungkook comments snidely. 
“I know we agreed on periodic interviews for the sake of the mockumentary but I don’t know why we have to be so… so serious about them,” you say with a frown. 
“We have to promise to be honest with what we say, alright? Like, actually honest. This sets a guideline for the rest of our relationship,” Jungkook says like it’s no big deal. Like the foundation of your relationship isn’t the fact that the two of you have been engaged in discussion-board war ever since the semester began. 
“Our ‘relationship’?” You say with a scoff. 
“Do you promise?” Jungkook says. 
You roll your eyes. “Yes, I promise.” Whatever. “What do you even think is going to happen between us in the next few weeks?”
Jungkook smirks. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?”
You don’t like the sound of that. 
Over the next ten minutes, Taehyung gets the sheet attached to his wall and pulls over two stools from his kitchen counters, old-timey wooden ones he got from a thrift store for five dollars a pop, one for him and one for the poor soul who has to be interviewed. You’ve agreed to do them separately but Taehyung’s apartment is only so big and you are only three people, which means that whoever isn’t being interviewed still has to be behind the camera, listening to the other person. 
Makes you sort of nervous about whatever’s stewing up inside Jungkook’s mind. Wonder what the hell it is he’s plotting up there. 
Once everything is settled, Taehyung looks at the two of you as he asks who’s going first. 
You turn to Jungkook, who’s already grinning. “Ladies first.”
For someone who has spent their whole life watching and making movies, being in front of the camera feels weirdly uncomfortable to you. You’re so used to being behind it instead, directing others as they move around the frame, telling them how to feel and how to act and what to say, that having the spotlight shone on you is like picking through your thoughts with a fine-toothed comb. 
You adjust awkwardly in the bar stool seat as Jungkook stands behind the camera, twisting the lens until he gives you the thumbs-up. Quite frankly, it doesn’t make you feel any better. 
“You ready?” Taehyung asks as he takes a seat opposite you, just out of frame. 
“Well, we’ve gotta start somewhere, right?”
“That’s the spirit. Alright, Jungkook, start whenever you’re good.”
“Okay,” Jungkook chirps up. “Three, two, one—” He points to the both of you. 
“So, Y/N,” Taehyung begins, his voice suddenly much clearer. He sounds sort of like a news anchor. It’s oddly fitting. “Are you excited to begin the filming for this?”
“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” You muse. 
“That didn’t answer my question,” Taehyung points out. Good thing the camera can’t see the way his eyebrows raise. 
“I suppose that there are worse things I could be doing,” you reason, which is about as good of an answer as Taehyung’s going to get. What was he expecting you to say? That you were thrilled to be filming this not-a-rom-com with your class nemesis? That you couldn’t wait to see what would happen?
“Loving the enthusiasm,” Taehyung jokes. You wonder what your classmates will think when they watch this back, hearing this unidentified deep male voice ask you and Jungkook questions about your relationship. “Let me ask you this: what’s your current relationship with Jungkook?”
“Uh…” you begin, nervous. Behind the camera, Jungkook has that same stupid, shit-eating grin plastered all over his face. You sneer. “It’s… it’s professional.”
“Can you explain what you mean by that?” 
“I mean we’re classmates. That’s the relationship.”
“That’s it?” You can hear the skepticism in Taehyung’s voice, almost like he’s egging you on to say something more. 
“We’ve had some personal disagreements on topics discussed in class. But yes, we’re just classmates,” you elaborate slightly. It’s not as if anyone needs reminding of that, anyway. They all see your discussion board posts. 
“And how do you expect that relationship to change over the course of this project?”
“I don’t think it’ll change at all.” It’s the easiest answer so far. Requires no energy nor brain power for you to think about it. 
Taehyung nods his head in intrigue. “And why’s that?”
“Because this is a project for a class, not a life lesson.”
“Who says it can’t be both?”
You frown. “Whose side are you on?”
Five feet away, Jungkook laughs. 
Taehyung chuckles. “Alright, moving on. What do you expect from Jungkook over the next few weeks as you start working on building your relationship?”
“I hope he becomes less unbearable,” you say, though you suppose that’s more of a general life goal than one that’s project-specific. But it would be nice if he became a little more… palatable. Just so you don’t have to feel the urge to sock him in the face every time you speak to each other. 
“‘Less unbearable’, excellent,” Taehyung repeats. “Anything else?”
“Well,” you say with a shrug, not sure what else to say. What do you want from Jungkook? Obviously the two of you are about to embark on your own rom-com adventure, no doubt most of it his doing, but it’s hard to imagine that he himself (or you, for that matter) will change. If anything, the rom-com setting will just exacerbate the worst parts of both your personalities. Like some sort of curse. “I guess I just hope that the project goes smoothly.”
“I hope that it does, too,” Taehyung says with a smile. “Okay, last question.” Thank God. This interview couldn’t have been more than five minutes, but it feels like an eternity to you. “Do you think you and Jungkook will fall in love at the end of this?”
“No.” You don’t leave any room for hesitation. “I don’t.”
“Why not?”
“We’re very different people with very different interests,” you explain succinctly. You’re sure Taehyung will grasp that once Jungkook has his turn and answers all the same questions. “He can try his hardest, but some things are just meant to stay the way they are.”
“Okay, thank you, Y/N, that’s all. I hope you found our conversation illuminating,” Taehyung says, his cue for the camera to stop rolling. You and Taehyung both turn to Jungkook, waiting for his signal, letting out a sigh when Jungkook gives you a thumbs-up. 
“Thank fuck,” you say, hopping off of the barstool happily. You head towards the camera, ready to kick Jungkook off of it, because it’s your turn to stand behind it with an annoying look on your face as you react to every stupid thing Jungkook says. You find that you’re actually sort of looking forward to it. Being behind the camera is where you feel most at home. Making faces at Jungkook is just a bonus. 
Jungkook’s still grinning that same goddamn grin when you approach him, making you narrow your eyes. 
“‘He can try his hardest’?” Jungkook teases, voice all high-pitched to mimic yours. “Sounds like a challenge.”
“Ah yes, my mission in life,” you retort easily. Maybe goading him on isn’t the best course of action, but you’re so confident that you won’t change your mind you find yourself actually anticipating his efforts. “Think you have what it takes?”
“Believe me, I do,” Jungkook says with a devilish glint in his eyes. 
You roll your eyes and kick him off the camera with a shove, pushing him towards Taehyung as he waits diligently on that chair of his. 
“So, Jungkook, same questions,” Taehyung says as Jungkook gets ready in his seat, fixing the blonde strands of hair that curl around the side of his face, framing his cheeks. 
“What? That’s no fair, he got to think about all his answers,” you exclaim, positively indignant. 
“Don’t worry, Y/N,” Jungkook says, voice sickly smooth, honey falling off his lips. “I’ve actually been thinking about the two of us for a long time.”
You pretend to throw up on Taehyung’s hardwood floor. 
As Taehyung promised, he asks Jungkook the same questions. And, as predicted, his answers about as far away from yours as the sun is from Pluto:
“Are you excited to begin the filming for this?”
Jungkook grins. “Yes, definitely. I actually took this class after hearing from a friend that the final project was a lot of fun.”
Taehyung beams. That friend was him. No wonder he was so happy to sign onto helping the two of you. 
“And how would you describe your current relationship with Y/N?”
“We’re soon-to-be-lovers.” 
“How forward of you.”
“Isn’t that my job?”
You have to stop yourself from bursting out into laughter behind the camera and ruining the interview. At least he’s not hiding anything. You’ll give him that. 
“So I suppose you expect the two of you to fall in love over the course of the project?”
“Yes, that’s going to happen.”
“And you seem pretty confident when you say that.”
Jungkook smirks as he turns to the camera. Or, more accurately, you. “Confidence is attractive.” 
You shake your head back at him. 
The rest of the interview falls pretty much into the same vein as the first few questions. Jungkook is so brazenly determined and hopeful and optimistic it actually pains you in a way, watching him make all of these promises both to you and himself that this project is going to turn out the way he hopes it does. His answers remind you of his discussion board posts, always looking on the bright side of every movie you watch, always finding the silver lining, the light at the end of the tunnel. A movie could be total Hollywood crap, filled with cheating scandals and misunderstandings and betrayals, and Jungkook could still find beauty in it. 
It’s strange. 
For the sake of you not actually throwing up in Taehyung’s lovely apartment, you tune out the majority of the middle of the conversation, having zero desire to listen to Jungkook wax poetic about your non-existent relationship like he’s saying his wedding vows. Only when Taehyung finally remarks that they’re on the last question do you finally come to again, ready to turn the camera off as soon as Jungkook finishes his answer. 
“Jungkook, do you think you and Y/N will fall in love at the end of this?”
“I do.” Wow, what a shocker. “I do, because I hope that by the end of this Y/N will have opened her eyes to the beauty of love, and will find joy in the feeling as something that makes her feel happy and warm. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure the things we do together are meaningful. And even if we don’t last, I hope that her memories of us together will be ones she can look back upon fondly and be grateful for.”
You purse your lips together. If only it were that easy. 
“Alright, cut,” you say, voice distant as Jungkook thanks Taehyung for his time and hops off the bar stool. “Thanks, Tae.”
“Anytime, you guys,” Taehyung says with a grin. 
Jungkook comes over to where you’re standing, possibly to grab his camera and tripod but most definitely to rub his obnoxious personality all up in your face. 
“You really think you’re gonna get me to fall in love with you, huh?” You muse, an eyebrow raised as you look up at him. “Just so you can prove a point?”
“Believe it or not, Y/N, but I actually think that all people deserve the chance to experience love and that happens to include you, as well,” Jungkook responds easily. 
The words put a sour taste in your mouth. “You think I deserve it, huh?”
Jungkook nods, face solemn as he looks at you, gazing into your eyes with those big brown ones of his own. It makes you feel something unfamiliar. Like he’s reading right through your chest, into your heart. You don’t like it. “Everyone deserves love.”
“You guys are coming back, right? So I can leave the sheet up?” Taehyung interrupts after he’s moved both of his bar stools back to his kitchen counter. 
“Yeah, we’ll be back,” Jungkook answers quickly. “Thanks for setting everything up, by the way.”
“Of course. Plus, this is a good background for my nudes,” Taehyung says casually, like he’s mentioning what he’s having for dinner. “Looking forward to seeing you guys again.”
“Us, too,” Jungkook says. “Ready to go?”
“Only because it means I don’t have to see you anymore,” you retort pointedly, grabbing your backpack from where it sits on his couch as you head towards the door. 
“Just you wait, Y/N,” Jungkook says as you leave Taehyung’s building, one of those old-timey Victorian houses that was converted into a whole bunch of apartments. “You’re gonna see that I’m right.”
“Really? About what?”
“About us,” Jungkook says. You come to the stoplight, where Jungkook keeps going straight and you turn right. 
“Us?”
Jungkook grins as you turn in the direction of your own apartment. And, just as the light turns green, he says, “Just you wait. We’re gonna fall in love, you and me.”
If he says so. 
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“Hey! Y/N!”
You whip your head around at the sound of your name just as you’re opening the door to your local Starbucks, wondering who the hell is calling out to you at nine-thirty in the morning on a Wednesday. 
As it turns out, you don’t have to wonder too much, because the moment your eyes adjust to the blinding sunlight coming from the east side of campus you see Jungkook hurtling towards you, heavy black boots stomping down on the pavement as he rushes to catch up with you. 
“Can I help you?” You ask, thoroughly unimpressed, as you pull open the door, looking at Jungkook heaving beside you as he holds the door open for himself. 
“Just glad I caught you,” Jungkook gasps out between breaths. “Figured this might make a good scene for the movie.”
“It’s a mockumentary,” you remind him easily, getting in the line. 
“Whatever,” Jungkook says. “What do you normally get here? I don’t really go to Starbucks often.”
“Whatever will give me the most caffeine for the least amount of money,” you retort. 
“How efficient,” Jungkook comments. 
“You know that’s how I like to be,” you tell him with a pointed look. 
Jungkook mumbles his acknowledgement as he fumbles around in his backpack, fishing through the large pocket until he whips out his Canon, holding it out in front of him like he’s a dad about to film an embarrassing shot of his child. You look down at the camera just as he pans up to you, a confused frown written across your features. Jungkook laughs. 
“Do you really need to do that here?”
“I’m not even filming,” Jungkook says with a smile, like he just pulled his camera out so he could look at your unimpressed face through a different lens. “Look, you’re up.”
You turn around to find that the woman ahead of you in line has just moved towards the pick-up side of the counter, so you shimmy over towards the barista, ready to get this over with so you can dart out of the Starbucks as soon as possible. 
“Just a grande Americano, please,” you request simply, fingers grasping for the wallet inside your coat pocket. 
“Me too,” Jungkook chirps up from behind you. The closeness of his voice makes you jump, and suddenly you become keenly cognizant of how he’s practically pressed up next to you as he leans over towards the counter. You catch a glimpse of the debit card in his hand. “Here.”
“You don’t have to pay for me, it’s fine,” you quickly say, holding out your own card to the barista. 
“No, it’s okay, I want to. Here.” Jungkook pushes your hand away as he tries to stuff his card into the reader. 
“No, I won’t let you. I’m a big girl, I can pay for my own coffee,” you rebuke, feeling yourself growing oddly defensive. 
Jungkook sighs from behind you. “Oh, come on, you can’t let me do one nice thing for you?”
“Will one of you please pay, you’re holding up the line,” the barista asks in a desperate tone, clearly too overworked and too underpaid to be dealing with two bratty college students like yourselves. 
Jungkook manages to shove his card into the reader before you get the chance to do it yourself, pushing you to the side as he verifies all of his information and takes his receipt. Next to him, you seethe to yourself, feeling a personal loss even though you just got your coffee paid for. It’s not about the money. It’s about your pride. Never in your life have you wanted to so badly pay for an overpriced Starbucks coffee. 
You and Jungkook mosey over to the other side of the counter, waiting for your identical drinks to be made as you try and calculate how much longer you have to stand in the same room and breathe the same air as Jungkook. Seeing him in class, on your discussion board posts, and for your arranged final project meetings apparently isn’t enough, so now he has to invade your personal life, too. 
“What are you doing?” You huff out angrily, turning to Jungkook even as he holds his camera out in front of him, filming the Starbucks. 
“Recording our first meeting, obviously,” Jungkook says like it’s some kind of no-brainer. Like you were in on that from the moment he called your name out on the street. 
“What do you mean, ‘our first meeting’?” You scrunch up your nose in confusion. “We’ve known each other since the semester started.”
“I know, but…” Jungkook trails off unhelpfully, but you pick up what he’s putting down regardless. Right. This is supposed to be a mockumentary rom-com. And rom-coms always start with an introduction. 
The barista behind the counter calls out Jungkook’s name as he places two same-sized cups down at the pick-up station. The cup is burning hot, even with the little cardboard holder wrapped around it like a leg warmer, so you immediately move over to the station up against the wall with all of the sugar packets and napkins and little green splash sticks. Jungkook joins you without question, whether it be due to the fact that he doesn’t come here very often or because he just wants to keep invading your space, you couldn’t say. Grabbing one of the wooden sticks, you tug the plastic lid off of the cup and give the coffee a swirl. Watching you, Jungkook takes the lid off of his as well. 
“Are you just going to copy everything I do?” You deadpan. 
“Not everything…” Jungkook trails off suspiciously, looking down into his coffee like the two of them are conspiring something. 
“What are you talki—”
Without warning, Jungkook slams half of his body into you, and without a lid or one of those little green sticks, the coffee sploshes over the side of his cup and drenches the front of your exposed hoodie, hot liquid burning through the fabric of the hoodie and the t-shirt you have on underneath. You watch in horror as Jungkook plays it off like an accident, feet fumbling around on the hardwood floor like he had just tripped. But he didn’t just trip. He dumped half of his Americano onto the both of your fronts. 
“Jungkook!” You say instantly, resisting the urge to scream because you’re in a public place but feeling your skin go as hot as the coffee against your torso as you look up at him, fuming. 
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I’m such a klutz,” Jungkook says, somehow able to regain his balance, hold his coffee cup, and film the whole adventure all at the same time. “That was totally my fault, let me help you with that.” 
The camera is from his perspective, which you suppose is about as real as it gets for something grounded in reality like a mockumentary, but in this position he’s able to make conversation with his eyes, big brown ones wide as he tries to signify what exactly he means when he purposely spills coffee all over the two of you. 
You get it. You’ve seen enough rom-coms to know why he just did what he did, but you still find your mouth agape as you stare up at him, smoldering and angry and a little shocked he would dare be so bold, especially in the middle of a Starbucks coffee shop. 
“For God’s sake,” you say with an exhausted sigh despite it not even being ten in the morning yet. Unable to form any other comprehensible words, you settle for just pulling out napkins from the dispenser and dabbing the front of your hoodie as Jungkook looks at you apologetically. You can’t even tell if he’s truly sorry or just putting on another one of his shows. 
“I feel so bad,” Jungkook says, and you calm yourself down enough to nod. At least he isn’t blatantly laughing. “Can I pay for dry cleaning?”
“You’re really gonna offer to pay for my dry cleaning?” You ask, an eyebrow raised. 
“It was my fault,” Jungkook admits. Now that you can agree on. 
You shake your head. “It’s okay. It’s just an old hoodie, it’s no big deal.”
“I’m still sorry,” Jungkook insists, and the more he says it the more you actually find yourself starting to believe him. Even if he did just spill coffee all over you. “Here, let me give you my jacket—”
“That’s not necessary,” you say as he shrugs off his backpack and begins to remove the bulky denim jacket he’s wearing, fabric worn and soft from years of use. “Seriously, it’s okay, it’s just a hoodie.”
“Yeah, but now you have coffee all over your clothes and you probably have class soon, right?” He says, an apologetic smile lacing his lips. He tugs off his jacket and holds it out towards you. 
“Jungkook, I’m fine, alright? I appreciate your concern, though,” you assure him. You throw away the last of the coffee-stained napkins in your hands and reach down for your backpack, which you had taken off your shoulders somewhere in the chaos. 
Jungkook rolls his eyes, almost as if he was expecting resistance, and leans over you anyway. His arms extend outwards as he wraps his enormous denim jacket over your shoulders, the fabric draping loosely over your body. The damn thing was big on him, so on you it practically eats you up. You stand there, silent, as Jungkook adjusts the jacket on your torso, pulling underneath the hood of your sweatshirt as he makes sure it’s snug across your figure. 
“There,” Jungkook says. 
“Thanks,” you say, a half grin playing on your lips. The gesture makes you wonder if Jungkook really was planning on giving up his jacket this early in the morning for the sake of your movie. “That’s nice of you.”
“I hope it makes up for the fact that you smell like coffee now,” Jungkook says, a hand coming up to rub at the nape of his neck. 
“I appreciate it,” you say. 
“I have class, too, so I have to go,” Jungkook says, hoisting his backpack on his shoulders as he tucks his camera away. “I’m sorry again! See you around?”
Like you even have a choice. 
“Yeah, see you around,” you say as Jungkook darts off just as quickly as he arrived, rushing out the door before you have the chance to change your mind and give him his jacket back. 
When he leaves you, you find yourself at a loss for words. You stand there, lips pursed, coffee cold, as the weight of his jacket rests heavy on your shoulders. 
It smells like him. 
You should have known he would do something like this. Spill coffee all over the two of you, offer you his jacket, dash off like Cinderella at midnight. Like the opening of the world’s worst rom-com. The start of what is no doubt going to be the most unbearable final project you have ever done.
Plus, the other thing it’s ensured is a second meeting. How else is he going to get his jacket back?
And you know what the worst part is?
This is only the beginning.
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This time after FILM395 ends lecture for the day, it’s your turn to catch Jungkook lounging around after class. 
He’s lingering around the outside of the building, scrolling through his phone, a heavy leather jacket resting over a flannel that goes down to his knees and a baseball cap sitting firmly on his tuft of blonde hair. He’s obviously not paying attention to any of his surroundings whatsoever, because he doesn’t even notice you exiting out of the door he’s standing by until you say his name. 
“Jungkook,” you say, arriving in front of him. 
“Wha—oh, hi,” Jungkook says, jumping at the suddenness of it all. 
“Here,” you say, holding out his oversized denim jacket in between the two of you. “Thanks for letting me borrow it.”
“Oh, I didn’t know you were going to give it back so soon,” Jungkook says, looking a little surprised and… is he touched? 
“I was going to give it to you a couple days ago but I thought I should give it a wash first,” you admit to him. 
Instinctively, Jungkook brings the jacket up to his nose to sniff it. “Smells like lavender.”
“Yeah, it’s my detergent. Hope you don’t mind. It’s a little wrinkled—I let it air dry since I was worried it might shrink in the dryer.”
“Thanks,” Jungkook says, a genuine smile lacing itself across his features. It’s not one you see too often, and definitely not the kind of smile he usually flashes in your direction. Those are all so obnoxious, so full of himself. This one’s different. It’s appreciative. Kinder. Softer. In a lot of ways. “I was thinking, if you don’t have class now, do you wanna grab some coffee?”
You narrow your eyes. “Only if you promise not to spill it on me this time.”
Jungkook laughs, throwing his head back. “Okay, I got it. I won’t spill it on you.”
“Promise?” You prompt. 
“Promise.”
The walk to Starbucks this time is in relative silence, but neither of you seems to mind it very much. You aren’t dashing to catch up with each other and heaving snarky comments as you catch your breath. Jungkook even notices you shiver in the cool March breeze and wraps his jacket around you again anyway, although this time you make a mental note to make sure he doesn’t leave without it. Even though a lavender scent wafts off of the denim, it still smells a little bit like him. That boyish sort of aroma. You don’t think any detergent would ever be able to get rid of that. 
You and Jungkook both get americanos again because you’re predictable and creatures of habit, and Jungkook actually seems to quite like them. He pays and you don’t spend two minutes standing in front of the barista fighting over it. Jungkook seems so determined to pay the extra four dollars for your drink that you aren’t sure if it’s really worth arguing over it for the sake of pride anymore. What you and Jungkook put into making this project a success is what you’re going to get out of it. 
He picks one of the longer tables in the back of the study space, empty because it’s just after the lunchtime rush and most people have classes now, sets up the camera at one end, and you sit down at the other. 
“So,” you begin, not sure where to start because your coffee is too hot to take a sip from it. 
“So,” Jungkook echoes. 
Silence. 
You purse your lips in that awkward, I-don’t-know-what-to-say kind of way. “What do you want to do?”
Jungkook grins. “This is the part where we get to know each other.” 
“We already know each other.” You frown.
“Do we?” Jungkook poses, an eyebrow raised. “I mean, yeah, I guess we aren’t strangers, but I don’t know anything about you. Other than you’re a film major in a rom-com class who hates rom-coms.”
“I don’t hate rom-coms,” you object. “I just think it’s important to look at them from a critical lens.”
“Okay, whatever,” Jungkook says, shrugging you off. “The point is that we don’t know anything else about each other. Like, what’s your favorite color, for example?”
“Purple.” It’s an easy answer. You wore purple princess dresses when you were five, painted your bedroom lilac when you were ten, and still make sure to keep a purple highlighter in your pencil case now. “What’s yours?”
“Red,” Jungkook responds. 
“Cool,” you say, effectively ending the rest of the conversation.
Jungkook, sensing that same awkward silence, suggests something. “How about you ask me something now? We can go back and forth.”
You shrug. It’s not like you have anything better to do. “Alright.” You think for a moment, but then you have the perfect question. “Why film?”
Jungkook was clearly not expecting something so loaded, because his brows furrow, knitting themselves together as he begins to figure out a good enough answer. “Hmm,” he says, lost deep in thought. “I suppose the standard answer would be that I’ve always been interested in it, but I think I chose film because I want to be able to have the gift to tell other people’s stories. Being a filmmaker doesn’t just mean you stand behind a camera. It means you immerse yourself in the lives of other people to create something new. And… I don’t know. I guess I really like doing that.” 
You nod. 
For once, you understand him. Understand why he chose to major in film, why he chose to be in this tiny little program. Because there is so much out there, so much that you will never know, people you will never meet and things you will never see. And it’s a filmmaker’s job to make them turn into things you will see, people you will meet. Who knows the world better than the people who study it? The people who have devoted their lives to learning all its secrets?
“What about you?”
“Same as you,” you tell him. “Film is an art but it’s more than that to me. It’s a new way to look at the world. It’s several new ways to look at the world, depending on what kind of film you want to create and what kind of story you want to tell. I think it’s important to show people that all of the things they see in the media every day are not always reality. And that real people deserve to have their stories told, too. I don’t know. That’s what I think.”
Jungkook grins, a twinkle in his eyes. “Real people like us?”
“This project is different,” you insist. 
“I don’t think it is,” Jungkook says. “You said it yourself, we’re making this because it’s important to show people that the Hollywood entertainment they consume is not reality. This is. This is reality.”
You frown, kicking yourself in the shin because what was supposed to be a harmless conversation has now turned into an opportunity for Jungkook to try and convince you that you will, in fact, fall in love with him. You’ve dug your own grave and Jungkook was the one who handed you the shovel. 
“You’re not giving up, are you?” You say, shaking your head, flabbergasted. “Reality is the fact that this project is not going to make me fall in love with you. Nothing is.”
“Don’t be so sure about that,” Jungkook warns. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”
“You mean like spilling burning hot coffee all over me?” You ask, an eyebrow raised, a grudge still held. 
“We had to start somewhere,” Jungkook defends. “And you seemed to understand what I was doing pretty quickly.”
“It’s not the worst thing someone’s done to me,” you concede, only slightly. “Besides, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but throwing hot coffee all over me is not really a good way to start off your plan to get me to fall in love with you.”
Jungkook smiles. “All in due time, Y/N. All in due time.”
“I can’t believe Pollack actually paired us up together,” you say with a sigh. “You know she did it on purpose.”
“Of course she did.” It’s not really a surprise to either of you. 
“I met with her right after she announced our partners,” you tell him, “she said it was because she wanted to see what kind of project we would come up with. How we would address our… differing views on love.” That’s one way of putting it. A rather nice way, if you do say so yourself.
“Speaking of which,” Jungkook says, something suddenly flashing through his mind, “what do you really think about love? You know, other than it’s unrealistic and ruins people’s lives.”
“You make me sound like Ebeneezer Scrooge.” You frown at him. 
“I’m serious,” insists Jungkook. “Why are you so pessimistic about it? Have you ever been in love? Have you had bad experiences? You couldn’t have just developed this worldview over time.”
You scowl, feeling yourself getting defensive. “Well, maybe I did. Maybe that’s just what I think. Why do you care?”
“Because people don’t just hate love for no reason,” Jungkook exclaims. “Come on, there must be something.”
Your body stiffens. Who is he to be asking you this sort of shit? Why does he care so much? It’s not like it will have any effect on the outcome of your project. Not like you explaining yourself will change the way either of you look at the world. 
“What’s it to you?” You challenge. “Why do you love love so much? Have you ever fallen in love? Do you think it’s suddenly going to solve all of your problems?”
“I love it because I think it brings people real joy,” Jungkook answers simply. “It makes people happy and it’s beautiful. I love love and I’m not ashamed to say that out loud. I believe in it. I believe in love, and in destiny, and in soulmates. I want that. I think everyone deserves it.”
 You scoff to yourself. “You believe in soulmates?”
“I think we all have our people out there.” Jungkook nods. “Don’t you?”
You roll your eyes, arms crossed over your chest. This conversation has gone nowhere, and Jungkook looks as equally dissatisfied as you do. 
“I think love can make us do stupid things,” you tell him succinctly, if a little jaded. No need to say anything else. Your explanation is right there. “We’re just different, I guess. You and I.”
Jungkook blinks at you, eyes wide and a little desperate. Your conversation has remained stagnant and there’s almost nothing left to say. 
Almost. 
“Don’t you ever want to fall in love?” He asks, like it’s a last-ditch effort to get you to believe. 
You freeze. Let the words sink in for a moment. Before you push them out the door and toss them into the garbage. Just thinking about it gives you a headache. Puts a sour taste in your mouth. 
Quickly, you push yourself out of your chair and stand up, grabbing your coffee with one hand and your backpack with the other. “I have to go, sorry. I just remembered I’m meeting up with a friend to help her with a photography shoot,” you fumble out quickly, the legs of the chair screeching as you scoot them across the hardwood floor. “Oh, here’s your jacket, too. Thanks for giving it to me again. I’ll see you in class.”
You whip around and head towards the exit, and only when you’re outside of the Starbucks and passing by the window do you dare look back. Do you dare let your gaze drift back to Jungkook, who is sitting there like he still doesn’t understand you. Still can’t. 
You and Jungkook are final project partners and maybe, if you’re pushing it, acquaintances-slash-friends. But there are just some things better kept to yourself. 
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We’re reaching the halfway point in this semester and, as you all know, I don’t do midterms. That said, I still want you to reflect on what you’ve learned, discovered, and thought about thus far in this class. What portrayal of love did you find the most realistic? The least? How have they changed the way you think about love, both from a personal and a film perspective?
Y/N Y/N on March 3rd at 6:08PM
Purely from a film perspective, I really did enjoy watching Juno. It was funny and raunchy and just the right amount of vulnerable. It certainly felt the most real. So far, no film in this class has topped it for me. 500 Days of Summer, on the other hand, was in my opinion extremely unsatisfying and left no positive impression. The ending was a bore and Tom had absolutely no spine. It was a shame, because the direction and production was actually quite good. 
I guess I’m starting to realize how real love is not pretty. It can make people just as sad as it can make them happy. Why don’t we show the sad sides of love, too? The sides where your room is covered with a pile of clothes because you can’t bring yourself to do the laundry? Where you cannot cook a meal because it reminds you of a breakup? Rom-coms are, obviously, not the most realistic. But why are there not more films that do cover what’s real? How can we love love if all we know is a lie?
Jeon Jungkook on March 3rd at 11:13PM
Of course, I thought The Big Sick did an excellent job of their portrayal of love, adult life, and the problems that plague us all in the twenty-first century. It was also just as emotional and touched on concepts of race, illness, and being in your twenties and having no idea what direction your life is going in. The Princess Bride, on the other hand, as much as I love it, I do think created a more circumstantial kind of love. Westley and Buttercup mostly fall in love because of their situations. But it remains a classic nonetheless. 
I’m satisfied with the way the film industry has produced rom-coms and handles love. The beauty of it is that love is different for every person who goes through it. It can bring the greatest joy and the most painful sorrow. We do not just figure out what love is by what we see on film. We see it in our real lives, in our parents, in our friends, in couples in coffee shops and cars and on sidewalks. We can love love because we want that joy for ourselves. Because we know that true love will be worth any heartbreak we endure. Is it not impossible for the portrayals of love in these rom-coms to not be real? The way everyone experiences it is different. The only way you can know what real love is, and what it is not, is if you fall in love yourself. 
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Early on in your project development, you and Jungkook exchanged class schedules to optimize your productivity and skip over that stupid, terrible part of partner projects where you’re just going back and forth trying to pick a time that works for the both of you until you eventually settle on something ridiculous like eleven o’clock at night outside of the McDonald’s two blocks off of campus. 
It’s been working very well. Neither of you have adventurous-enough friends to invite you out on spontaneous picnics and restaurant dates that fuck with your pre-scheduled meeting times, and Jungkook already seems to have mastered the art of screaming your name when he catches you on the sidewalk so that you can film something. 
In fact, you’re actually beginning to wonder why you haven’t done this with all of your long-term partner projects. Send each other your schedules so that you can settle on a time in advance. No muss, no fuss. 
You and Jungkook are supposed to meet up again tonight, after the two of you are finished with all of your classes, to discuss what scenes you should be filming next. Edited down, you’ve already got about ten minutes worth of footage, but it’s mid-March and the project is due at the end of April. So you need to get this show on the road. 
The door slams shut behind you as you exit the business building, your film industry class having just ended a minute ago. You’ve got an hour to kill before your next class, just enough time to dash to the food court in the center of campus and grab something from the Japanese place in the back corner. You might even have time to browse the shelves in the bookstore if you’re fast enough. 
You round the corner to the main pathway through campus when a voice stops you in your tracks. 
“You’re just too good to be true…”
“Can’t take my eyes off of you…”
It’s not Jungkook. Instead, in the middle of the walkway are the Eighth Notes, one of the fifteen-thousand (you don’t know for sure, but if you had to estimate) acapella groups on campus. They’ve got mic stands and a table set up and everything. Maybe they’re promoting an upcoming show…? 
You almost breeze right by when one of them, the one in the middle of the group, points right at you, a lopsided grin lacing his features. You aren’t one to normally stop in the middle of a crowded footpath, but when, one after another, all six of the boys start pointing at you, you have no choice. 
“You’d be like Heaven to touch…”
“I wanna hold you so much…” 
“At long last, love has arrived…”
“And I thank God I’m alive…”
“You’re just too good to be true…”
“Can’t take my eyes off of you…”
Their voices are smooth like honey, warm and deep, romancing you through their mics as each one of them suddenly manifests a rose from behind them. Around you, people are starting to stare, gawking at you as they walk by. There’s even a small crowd starting to gather, and you swear you can see some people filming on their phones. The fact that this is happening in the busiest ten minutes of the day, as half the student body is walking from one class to another, isn’t helping. At all. 
The rest of them singing in the background, each one steps out from behind the set of microphones to hand you the rose, smiling their classic, old-timey smiles like those old jazz singers from the 1960s, until you’ve got half a dozen in your hands as they continue to sing. 
“But if you feel like I feel…”
“Please let me know that it’s real…”
“You’re just too good to be true…”
“Can’t take my eyes off of you…”
And then, suddenly, all of them are shutting their traps and turning to the left, looking down the pathway as the song begins again, but from one-hundred feet away. 
“I love you, baby, and if it’s quite alright, I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night…”
Your mouth drops. At the other end of the walkway is Jungkook, one of those wireless microphones in his hand, grinning as he saunters down the path like a prince at a ball, voice sweet and thick as the words dance off of his lips. 
“I love you, baby, trust in me when I say…”
Your eyes lock from opposite ends of the path, Jungkook stepping closer with every beat the Eighth Notes gives him. It sort of feels like your impending doom and a wedding proposal, all at once. By now a rather substantial audience has gathered, lining the walkway with their phones out, filming Jungkook as he waltzes past them, occasionally turning to capture your gobsmacked expression. 
Every step that Jungkook takes makes your heart race something fierce, cheeks warming in embarrassment, trapped in your least favorite thing in the entire world: a public serenade. You can’t really do anything except look at him in shock, feeling his steady gaze resting firmly on your figure, looking right at you. Into you. 
“Oh, pretty baby, don’t bring me down, I pray…”
Oh, pretty baby, now that I’ve found you, stay…”
Jungkook, on the other hand, is clearly relishing in this. In the spotlight. In the music. Or maybe just in the fact that you’re on the receiving end of his over-the-top advances. His grin is wide as he takes those last few steps, microphone gripped neatly in his hand, the lyrics warm and weighty as they tumble from his lips. 
“And let me love you, baby…”
One final step and he’s right in front of you, staring into your eyes, letting himself bask in the look on your face. He produces a rose himself—cherry red, like his favorite color—and holds it out in between the two of you. In the background, the Eighth Notes go quiet, leaving Jungkook on his own for the final line. 
“Let me love you…”
The words drift above your heads, disappearing into the sky as he lingers on them, on that last note, beaming down at you. He looks at you, so hopeful, so happy, so endeared, and what else can you do? What else, besides taking the rose from his hand and smiling back up at him? Who are you to deny him of that?
The crowd around you cheers when you do, applauding both Jungkook and the Eighth Notes, with whom he is apparently in cahoots, before they all decide that they ought to get on with their day and head to class. No doubt you’ll be on several dozen Instagram stories by nightfall. 
Only after everyone has dispersed do you notice Taehyung, who must have been here since the beginning, because he’s just turning off the camera dangling from his neck. Of course Jungkook got him to film. Other than your project, what else would this be for?
“Is that the best you can do, Jungkook?” You smirk up at him, only saying this because you can’t have him knowing that you actually kind of enjoyed it. 
“You’re still here, aren’t you?” Jungkook responds easily. “Thought I would do something spontaneous.”
“And now you’ve taken up ten minutes of my lunch,” you say, shaking your head to yourself. “How spontaneous, indeed.”
“How was that, Jungkook?”
Behind the two of you, the Eighth Notes are packing up, clearly more than happy to have aided Jungkook on his quest for so-called love and getting to promote their group in the process. 
“Great, thank you so much, Jimin,” Jungkook says to the one in the middle, the very first one to sing when you walked out of the door. 
“Anytime, dude. Glad we could help,” Jimin responds. He waves hi to Taehyung, too, as they store their microphones and go on their way. 
Jungkook bids them goodbye as they head down the path, smiling at all of them before he turns back to you, notices the distant, faraway look in your eyes as you twirl the rose between your fingers, press it to your nose to pick up its scent. 
“You gotta admit, I’m a pretty good singer, eh?” Jungkook says with a nudge to your shoulder. 
“You’re alright.”
Jungkook laughs to himself. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Don’t get a big head,” you warn. 
“Think I’ll have to sing for you more, now, hmm? Since you liked it so much?” He suggests, eyebrows wiggling. 
You roll your eyes. “Only if you can get Jimin and the Eighth Notes to back you up, again. Then maybe I’ll allow it.”
Jungkook grins. He’s far past the point of being deterred by your deadpan comments. If anything, they only encourage him more. But you, for obvious reasons, cannot give in. At least, not yet, anyway. 
“Okay, go eat your lunch,” he says, nodding as you begin to part ways. “I’ll text you later, okay?”
You smile. “Okay. See you.”
“See you, too.”
The moment you get back to your apartment you put all seven roses in an old vase filled with water. They brighten up your bedroom instantly, soft scent freshening up the air. And when you go to bed that night, it is to Jungkook’s sweet, delicate voice, like walking on clouds, like satin and silk, that you fall asleep.
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“Good morning, Y/N,” Jungkook greets like always, smiling at you as you walk in the door for FILM395. 
“Good morning, Jungkook,” you say in response. 
Then, you take a seat right next to him. 
It’s an act that clearly catches everyone off guard, if the bewildered looks of your fellow classmates and Jungkook’s confused expression are anything to go by. Even Pollack, when she walks through the door, gets a bit of a shock, eyes widening when she sees the two of you seated next to each other. 
You suppose all the fuss is understandable. After all, you both sort of hate each other. 
Other than the sudden change in seating arrangement, however, the rest of the class goes off without much issue. Pollack lectures for an hour before you move into discussion, at which point it becomes a class participation free-for-all, with you and Jungkook almost definitely in the lead. Just because you’re now sitting next to each other doesn’t mean either of you are suddenly going to stop raising your hands to rebuke each other’s points. Some things never change. 
Sitting next to Jungkook is not as bad as you thought it would be. For one, he is, for the most part, a rather diligent student. Other than his occasional flicks to his email, an essay he’s working on, or your discussion board, he mostly sits and takes notes and doesn’t do anything else. That, you can at least give him credit for. And even though your elbows almost always nearly crash into each other’s when you’re raising your hands to respond to a point Pollack’s made, discussion isn’t so bad either. 
One of the perks of sitting directly beside each other is that whenever he says something stupid, or saccharine, or just overly unrealistic, you don’t have to just roll your eyes from the back of the classroom while you wait to be called on. You also get to kick his foot with your own, nudge your elbow into his side. And he does the same to you. You and Jungkook are like those neighbors in sitcoms that spend all their free time shouting at each other from opposite windows. Just because your seats have gotten closer doesn’t mean your viewpoints have. 
A notification pops up on your laptop.
[March 17th, 11:05AM]
Jungkook: wanna meet at the tables outside after class?
You look over at Jungkook with a frown.
You: Why are you texting me? We’re sitting right next to each other
Jungkook: because we’re in class obvs Jungkook: dont wanna be disruptive
You: Since when has that ever stopped you before?
Jungkook: haha very funny Jungkook: tables sound good?
You: Only since you asked so nicely :)
Jungkook: thoughtful as always i see
After class, you and Jungkook both hang around, waiting for each other to pack up your belongings so you can walk to the tables together. Everyone else seems to sense this weird, uncomfortable tension in the room, because they all book it out of the door much faster than either of you do. You’re almost convinced Jungkook purposely takes extra time to zip his backpack, just because. 
The tables are, as per usual, empty. But you don’t have a pile of receipts to spread out, this time. You and Jungkook take a seat at one of them as you pull out your laptops, ready to outline the rest of the project. 
“We should probably meet with Taehyung a couple more times, too,” you suggest as you begin to brainstorm. 
“Sounds good,” Jungkook agrees. “But we can’t meet at night on weekdays anymore. My dance group’s show is coming up and we have practice then.”
You stop typing and turn to him. “I didn’t know you were in a dance group.”
Jungkook shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “I don’t really talk about it that much.”
“You should.”
He looks up at you at that, eyes wide as he faces you. 
“I don’t know, it seems like something you should be passionate about,” you say. In the same way that you promote the Film Club to every freshman you know, force all your friends to mark that they’re Interested in your event pages on Facebook. Jungkook should want to tell everyone about his dance group. Doesn’t he love it? Isn’t he proud to be in it?
Jungkook doesn’t look like he knows what to say to that. So he doesn’t say anything at all. 
“We can meet on weekends too,” you say, adjusting to his new change of schedule easily. “This project isn’t as all-consuming as I thought it would be.”
“You mean I’m not as all-consuming as you thought I would be,” Jungkook corrects. 
You shake your head. “No, you are.” He laughs. “But yeah, on weekends is fine. You know my schedule. What else should we do, besides talk to Taehyung?”
It’s like a lightbulb goes off above Jungkook’s head. “Let’s go on a date.”
You narrow your eyes at him. “No.”
“What do you mean, “no”? It’s the natural progression of our relationship! It’s the next step in the rom-com! We have to,” Jungkook insists. 
“First of all, it’s a mockumentary, not a rom-com,” you say with a sigh, finding yourself having to correct him rather frequently. “Secondly, we are not in a relationship. I am not dating you and you are not dating me.”
“Okay, but at this point in rom-coms the two leads would definitely go on a date,” Jungkook says, punctuating every word for emphasis. “What’s the harm? It’s not like you’re committing yourself to a future with me.”
“Thank God,” you mutter. 
“Oh, shut up. You probably haven’t been on a date in years, anyway. Why not spend a night out?”
You frown at that. “Who cares if I have or have not been on a date?” Why does Jungkook care so much about the history of your love life? He’s always saying stuff like this, always telling you things as if you’ve never been in a relationship at all, don’t know left from right, black from white. Who is he to be making those assumptions?
“Please, Y/N,” Jungkook begs, looking desperate. “Just one evening. And then if it really goes terribly and you end up hating me again, then we don’t have to do another one.”
You sigh, shoulders slumping. Well, what else are you going to do? You don’t have any other ideas. And you’ve already spent so much time with Jungkook this semester, what’s another evening? Just something else to cross off of your list of things to film. Maybe you can get him to take a cute photo of you to post on social media. 
“Fine,” you concede. “One date. And I still hate you, by the way.”
Jungkook clearly does not believe you. “Really? You still hate me? I’m sure you do.”
“Okay, I don’t hate you. But still,” you relent again. Perhaps you’re just being oddly soft today. Too lenient for your own good. 
Jungkook grins, cheeks little round circles as his lips curve up. “I know you like me. You just can’t admit it to yourself, can you? Can’t take that blow to your dignity.”
“Don’t think so highly of yourself,” you chide. 
“Who knows?” Jungkook tacks on, just to be extra annoying. “Maybe you’re actually starting to fall in love with me.”
You scoff. “You wish.”
“Well, are you?”
Jungkook doesn’t ask the question the same way he’s asked all of the other ones. Doesn’t say it with a shit-eating grin on his face or that glint in his eyes. He’s asking because he’s curious. Curious if what he’s been doing has been working. Curious if this project is really accomplishing anything at all. 
Funnily enough, you find yourself wondering the exact same thing.
Silent, you pausing for a moment to think, chewing on the inside of your lip. Jungkook’s looking back at you, lips curled upwards as he waits for a response. Ugh, you’ll just have to give it up. What else can you say? “I guess…” you begin, hesitating. 
You aren’t sure why you’re so scared to respond. Maybe you’re just worried that things will change if you say something. If you tell him the truth. 
But it’s just Jungkook. He’s sitting in front of you patiently, waiting for your answer. What could happen?
You confess. “I guess you’re not so bad after all.”
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Even though this is not the first time you’ve ever been out on a “date” (you’re using that word tentatively), picking out what to wear isn’t any easier than the last time. 
“Is black too, you know, sexy?”
Ruby shrugs on the other end of the video call. Her phone is propped up on her desk as she works on something on her laptop, glancing over every now and then whenever you prompt her to respond. “Well, that depends. Do you wanna fuck?”
“No.”
“Then it might be too sexy,” Ruby says easily. “What are you even doing? I thought you didn’t go out on dates.”
“It’s not a date,” you insist, although you’re not exactly sure which of the two of you you’re trying to convince. 
“You’re asking me what kind of sexy dress to wear for a night out with a guy. It’s a date,” Ruby reminds you, economical as always. “Who are you even going out with, anyway? You just called and asked me to pick between two dresses I have literally never seen you wear before.”
“That’s because I don’t go out on dates, which this is not,” you tell her, even expending the energy to stare into the camera to hammer your point home. “And it’s with Jungkook.”
Ruby shuts her laptop at that. You can hear the sound of her keyboard clacking as the lid hits them. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Do I need to remind you that this is not a date and therefore, you don’t need to be acting like I just told you I’m getting married.” You frown at her. “It’s just for our movie. Jungkook wants me to dress nicely, though.”
“Wear that nice summer dress you have,” Ruby instructs instead, shooing away the two much sexier options you’re currently holding in your hands. “Just put tights on underneath if you’re cold.”
“This one?” You ask, shuffling through your closet until you produce the gingham dress, plaid a pale yellow that matches gold jewelry rather well. 
“Yes, that one. I like that one,” Ruby says with a nod. “You look good in it.”
“I don’t know, I feel like it’s not appropriate.” You hesitate. It’s a cute dress, sure, but it seems too… casual. Too everyday. Jungkook’s taking you out to dinner, and no doubt he’s got something else planned for the rest of the evening. 
“I mean, you did say you had no plans on fucking him tonight,” Ruby reminds you coarsely. 
“I have no plans on fucking him at all,” you reiterate. “This is not a date. It is for our movie.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Ruby brushes you off with a wave of her hand. “Wear whatever you want, but I like your yellow dress the most. It looks really nice on you. And if it’s not a date, then neither you nor Jungkook should care.”
“Ruby—”
“I gotta go. Enjoy your not-date!”
She hangs up. 
You end up wearing the yellow dress. Jungkook knocks on your apartment door just as you’re closing the clasp to your necklace, a gold choker your mother had gifted you for a birthday a couple of years ago. It’s nothing much. You grab a jacket on your way to answer the door, wrapping it around your figure as you twist the knob. 
On the other side is Jungkook, all decked out in black jeans and a clean-cut leather jacket, the black ensemble striking against his warm-toned skin and bleached, blonde hair. You hate to admit it, but he actually does look rather good. For Jeon Jungkook. 
“Hi—whoa,” Jungkook says, doing a little whistle when he sees you, eyes bulging out of their sockets. 
You chuckle. “‘Whoa’ yourself.”
“You, uh…” Jungkook stammers slightly, a hand coming up to rub at the nape of his neck. The movement lifts his arm up just enough for you to see the line of his waist, the seamlessness of his body. He’s always been rather fit. “You look nice.”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” you chide, stepping outside and pulling the door shut behind you. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”
“Cleaned up just for you.” He grins. 
You press a hand to your heart dramatically. “I’m touched.” You begin walking down the hallway of your small apartment building, feeling your hands brushing by your sides due to how skinny the corridor is. At least, that’s what you assume. 
“Where are we going?” You ask as Jungkook opens the door to the passenger side of his car for you. 
He winks, that same gleam in his eye. He grins something wicked. “Don’t you remember?” He asks. “It’s a secret.”
The secret turns out to be a small Italian restaurant on an off-road in the center of town, a family joint with those plaid red tablecloths and dark wooden chairs. You’d never heard of the place before tonight, but Jungkook insists that it’s delicious and says it has a four-and-a-half star rating on Yelp, which is obviously gospel when it comes to restaurants. It’s so empty that he even has room to prop up the camera a couple of tables away to get that wide-angle shot of the both of you, two souls in a tiny little restaurant, enjoying a night out on the town. You’re sure that by the time production and post-production rolls around you’ll edit out most of your dialogue, but you like the idea of keeping in snippets of the audio, overlaying the scene with a soft instrumental. 
From a director’s point of view, of course. No other reason to romanticize your night with him. 
It’s nice. Objectively, it’s definitely one of the more exciting things you’ve done in a while, even if it’s just a dinner out in town, away from campus. It’s new. Adventurous. Jungkook convinces you to try his vodka shrimp linguine and you offer up some of your truffle-flavored gnocchi, which he devours happily. One thing you do learn is that no matter how much time passes, no matter how much food is on his plate, Jungkook eats and eats and eats. He never seems to fill up. This is one of those restaurants that pile your bowls high with pasta, give you at least three servings, send you home with to-go packages that will last you for days, and he still somehow manages to eat every last bite. He even has some of your leftovers. 
Jungkook pays because he insists and says that you shouldn’t fight on camera, which you have no choice but to agree to. However, you do look him up on Venmo and send him twenty dollars to cover your half of the bill, because the idea of him paying for you doesn’t sit right with you. It was fine with the coffee, a small token of repayment after spilling it all over you, but dinner just feels like too much. Like he’s carrying most of the weight and you aren’t shouldering enough. Like he’s putting in all of the effort and you are just bandwagoning off of him. 
And partnerships aren’t supposed to be like that. Jungkook isn’t supposed to do all of the work. You aren’t supposed to do nothing. You and Jungkook may not agree on much but you both know that you are equals. That what you put in is what you get out. 
It’s a lesson you think you learned too late, but you won’t make those mistakes again. You’ll get it right this time. 
“That was nice,” Jungkook says after the dinner. You’re walking through the park just across the street now, the sun having set and the streetlamps illuminating your path. The city has strung up lights along the trees, draped them over the branches like stars, like snowflakes. It’s picturesque. 
“Yeah.” You nod. “Thanks for taking me.”
“Thanks for coming.”
“How did you discover that place?” You ask, just out of curiosity. It’s not exactly the kind of restaurant that would be front and center on Google. 
“I went out on a date in freshman year there,” Jungkook admits, lips pursed awkwardly. “Yeah.”
“Did it at least go well?” You ask, trying to be hopeful. 
“If it did, do you think I’d still be here doing this with you?” Jungkook poses, an eyebrow raised. 
You chuckle to yourself. “You don’t mean that. I’m sure you’ll find your person.”
“You actually believe in that stuff now?” Jungkook asks you, skeptical. 
“I don’t know,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. “You do. I don’t wanna ruin it for you. Your person’s out there somewhere.”
“How do you know I haven’t already found my person?”
You stop in the middle of the path, feet coming to a halt on the pavement. Jungkook looks at you and you look back at him, letting his question sink into your skin, etch itself into your thoughts. He’s asking you because he wants to know. He looks so genuine, so patient, like he’s trying to find an answer somewhere in your eyes but you can’t give him one. 
“Wouldn’t you be able to tell when you did?”
Jungkook sighs. “I don’t know if it always works like that.”
You smile, soft and small. Musing, you say, “well, when you figure it out, let me know.”
“Do you think you’ve found your person?” Jungkook asks you. 
“You know I don’t think about love like that,” you remind him. 
“Well, how do you think about it?”
You gaze up at him once more, that same soft smile playing on your lips. Who is he to be asking you these questions, you wonder to yourself. What would the point be in answering him? It’s better if you just both moved on. Especially since stuff like this has no relevance to your project. 
“I don’t really think about love at all,” you say curtly. 
“I wish you did,” admits Jungkook. 
The look in your eyes is distant. “Yeah.” You wish you did, too.
“How about we do a couple of quick shots, right here?” Jungkook suggests, pulling out the camera. “Just here, the lighting’s nice.” He jogs back a couple of feet, lining himself up with where you stand, kneeling on the pavement with the camera held up to his eye. 
“What do you want me to do?” You call to him, feeling like a fish out of water in front of the lens, thumbs twiddling. 
“Just smile,” Jungkook requests simply. “Say hi to me.”
Sounds easy enough. Under the twinkling lights of the trees, in the haze of their warm yellow glow, you wave to Jungkook, smiling happily. You aren’t exactly sure what the purpose of these shots are, but you suppose you could always use some artistic frames in your movie. Grinning, you keep your eyes trained on him, on the way you can see him smiling back at you even from behind the camera. His eyes are covered, you can’t see those, but you hope they’re smiling too. 
“Okay, my turn,” you say when a little too much time has passed, when it’s just past the point of filming for the sake of a movie and more for the sake of something else. “Get over here.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you idiot.” You scurry over to Jungkook, taking the camera from his hands and pushing in in the general direction of where you were just standing. Situating yourself, you kneel right where Jungkook was, bringing the camera to your eyes. 
Through the lens, you can see the entire width of the pathway, the grass that borders it, the lights decorating the branches of the trees, and Jungkook, front and center. He looks like he has no idea what he’s doing there, waiting awkwardly as he gazes around, eyes drifting everywhere but exactly where you need them: you. He looks good like this, looks much taller, much more romantic. Like a real movie star. Like a model. His clothes make him blend in with the darkness of the night but his eyes are still shimmering, golden flecks twinkling, even from all the way over here. 
You have to admit it. He’s beautiful.
“Smile,” you say, pressing film. 
Jungkook grins your way. 
Afterwards, you give him his camera back and continue walking, turning the corner as you reach the edge of the park, ready to circle around the perimeter.
“How about we hold hands, too?”
“Excuse you?” You say, an eyebrow raised. 
“Come on, just for a second,” Jungkook pleads. “For the artistry. I’ll film us holding hands like all those Los Angeles boys do in YouTube vlogs.”
You look at him suspiciously. Is he sure it’s just for the artistry? “What a great example.”
“Please? Promise I always put hand cream on,” Jungkook asks, bottom lip turned outwards. 
It’s getting harder and harder to say no to him. 
“Fine,” you cave rather easily this time around. “Just for a minute.”
“Excellent.”
Jungkook lifts the camera up to his eye with his right hand as he holds out his left, palm facing the sky as he waits for you to rest your own in his. You narrow your eyes to the camera before your gaze drifts downwards to his open hand, almost like you’re afraid it’s going to jump out and bite at you if you get any closer. But it won’t, because it’s a hand. And it won’t, because it’s just Jungkook. 
The first thing you realize when your fingers intertwine with his is how big his hands are. They are massive. His left one dwarfs your own, wrapping around it securely, enveloping it like a king-sized comforter. The second thing you realize is how soft they are (he must not have been lying about the hand cream). The third thing you realize is the way they send sparks up and down your body, send tingles through your skin, shocks through your veins. You seize up a little bit at the feeling before your body finds it in itself to relax, letting the sensation wash over you like a wave from the ocean. 
It’s new. 
It’s strange. 
You haven’t felt that way in a long time. Felt those sparks, those jolts of energy. Like lightning has struck. 
Jungkook moves so that your hands are held out in front of you, making sure to adjust the lens just so he can get the exact right angle, but all you can focus on is the way your fingers interlock, the way your hand settles into his. 
You wonder what that means. 
The moment Jungkook lowers the camera you pull your hand away, overwhelmed and scared and shocked all at once. Like you’re afraid that if you reach out to him again, your whole body will freeze in place, shake like the wind. 
Jungkook looks at you, concern lacing his features. “You alright?” He asks, genuine and worried. 
You shake your head, willing those thoughts away. “I’m fine, I’m fine. You get the shot?”
“Yeah, I did,” Jungkook says. 
“And how do they look?” You ask because you can’t help yourself. Because you just have to know. 
Jungkook pauses, not sure how to respond. He chews on his lips like he’s running through all the possible answers, trying to figure out which one is right. You almost think he’s not going to reply at all, but then he smiles, and he says this: 
“Magical.”
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It feels weird for you to be arriving at Kim Taehyung’s door without Jungkook by your side. Doesn’t sit right in your stomach. 
Of course, Taehyung is as hospitable as always, welcoming you inside with his signature warm grin as he sets up the bar stools by the bedsheet, which you assume he will just not take down until your project’s over. Hopefully he’s getting use out of it otherwise, shooting nudes or whatever it is he said he would do. 
“Thanks for having me,” you say, resting your backpack against the foot of his couch as you set up the tripod, arranging it in just the right spot. It’s not Jungkook’s fancy camera that you’ve got with you, just your own from a couple years ago, but it’ll get the job done. You couldn’t ask Jungkook to borrow his, anyway. You’d pass away before he found out you did this. 
“We might not use this footage,” you warn in advance. “I just figured it’s safer to film everything just in case.”
“Why wouldn’t you use it?” Taehyung asks, genuinely curious. 
“Because I don’t know if this conversation will really have a point,” you say nervously, fingers fidgeting with the settings until everything’s just right. 
“I’m sure it’ll be important,” Taehyung assures you. You’re not so confident. “Ready to get started?”
“Yes, everything’s all set up,” you say, concentrating on your breathing as you make your way to the stool. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Why are you so worried?
“So, Y/N, how are you feeling right now?” Taehyung begins. 
You sigh. “Confused.”
“And why is that?”
“I… I don’t really know what direction I’m going in anymore for this project,” you say, letting yourself be candid and honest because it’s just Taehyung, and because you may not even use this footage, and because Jungkook’s not here. He doesn’t know you’ve asked Taehyung to do this for you. He doesn’t need to. 
“And is this because of Jungkook?”
“Yes.” Another easy answer. 
“How are you feeling about him?”
“I’m…” you don’t know where to begin. “I’m not sure. I just know that something’s changed.”
“Your feelings have changed?” Taehyung isn’t reacting, just asking questions in response to your answers and pretending that everything is normal, that this is just another interview. 
“I guess they have,” you admit. Even just saying that feels like a weight off your chest. A small one, five pounds out of a thousand. But it’s a difference. “I… don’t really know how I feel about him anymore.”
“In a good or bad way?”
Taehyung told you he would ask tough questions, but you don’t know if you can answer these anymore. 
“I don’t know,” you say, feeling yourself growing desperate with impatience. “I don’t feel the same things about him that I used to. He’s different to me now.”
“Do you think he’s changed?”
“Something has.”
“Have you considered the possibility that maybe you’ve changed, too?”
You frown, caught off-guard by his question. No, you haven’t. You haven’t thought about that at all. Why would you? Your stance is the same. Your opinions on love haven’t changed. And neither have your convictions about this project, about the way it will end. 
“No,” you say, nose scrunched up. 
“Well, I’m no expert, but I think there might be something between the two of you that wasn’t there before,” Taehyung says, nodding. “I think that the ways the two of you have changed have brought you together.”
“I don’t know about that…” You trail off. You can feel yourself growing hesitant again, pulling back from saying too much because you’ve never been a very good speaker. Because you’ve always preferred being behind the camera to being in front of it. 
“Don’t you think you should tell him how you feel?”
You scoff. At least that’s got an easy answer. A no-brainer. “No,” you say matter-of-factly, obvious because it is, stern because telling him was never an option anyway. Why else does Taehyung think you’re here without him? “Jungkook said he would get me to fall in love with him and I told him I would never. How could I ever let him think he was actually winning?”
Taehyung sighs.
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You haven’t seen Jungkook since your class on Wednesday. Granted, it’s only Saturday, but it feels like it’s been a weirdly long time. Like you’re so used to him barging into your life on the daily that there’s something off about even going three days without seeing him. Maybe it’s just because you’re nearing the beginning of April and your project is finally picking up steam. Between the two of you, you almost definitely have more than two hour’s worth of footage, but the hard part will be paring it down and turning it into a forty-five minute documentary. No doubt you and Jungkook will be spending a lot of time together the week before it’s due. 
Just out of curiosity, you text him. Because you have no idea what he’s been getting up to. 
[March 28th, 1:05PM]
You: Hey, do you think we need to get together sometime this weekend?
Jungkook: i don’t think i can Jungkook: it’s my dance group’s show this weekend
You: Really? You: You didn’t tell me
Jungkook: been too busy
You: What time is your show tonight?
Jungkook: 7pm
You: Sounds good, I’ll be there
Jungkook: oh Jungkook: you don’t have to
You: I want to You: I’ll see you there!
That night, you drop by the grocery store beforehand to pick up a bouquet of flowers. You haven’t been a performing arts show for years now, especially not one where you actually know the people performing, but flowers are customary. Or so you’ve heard. 
You don’t know a single soul who has plans on seeing Jungkook’s dance group either, but the theater is a ten-minute walk away from campus and you’re happy to make the trek alone, especially because you know you’ll find someone you know soon enough. Sometimes it’s nice to walk by yourself, letting the streetlamps above your head illuminate your path, a faceless figure passing by others. It brings peace. And it gives you time to sift through your thoughts, organize them into neat little piles and brush away all of the dust. 
Admittedly, you are not much of a connoisseur of the performing arts. You aren’t even much of a consumer. In another universe, under different circumstances, you wouldn’t blink twice if you heard that one of the dance groups on campus was having their show. But this is not another universe, and these are not different circumstances. 
Jungkook will be there. He is taking something he’s worked tirelessly on and presenting it to the world. Now that you think about it, it’s actually a lot like film. And if Jungkook has devoted so much time, put so much energy into this performance, what kind of person would you be if you didn’t go and watch his creation?
You pick a seat in the far back corner, the venue so cozy that even despite being the furthest away you’ve still got an excellent view, sit down, and wait for it to begin. 
[March 28th, 6:58PM]
Jungkook: hey are you here?
You: I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?
Jungkook: always such a tease
You roll your eyes at that, turning your phone off and stowing it away in your pocket. Two minutes later, the lights dim. 
The moment Jungkook steps out onto the stage, you recognize him instantly. He’s wearing all black again, but it’s not the same skinny jeans and leather jacket he had on when he took you out to dinner. It’s a loose long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants that hang low on his hips, highlighting the blondeness of his hair, the red in his lips. He’s one of at least a dozen people on stage but he’s the only one you focus on, the only one who your eyes follow. Booming throughout the theater is a Drake song, the beat thick and low, but it’s background noise when compared to the way he moves, the way he twists and turns his body on stage, angles sharp and crisp. 
The whole song goes by so quickly that by the time you find it in yourself to blink the stage is already darkening as they move onto the next song, switching out the performers and changing the spotlight colors to a sultry red. Jungkook disappears for this one, vanishing behind the curtains and forcing you to pay attention to the performance as a whole instead of just him. But you have to hand it to his group: they’re excellent. You’ve been missing out. 
Jungkook returns with the next song, having had just enough time to change into an all-white ensemble. He’s easy to spot even with that ridiculous bucket hat on, blonde hair bouncing with every step he takes, every jerk of his body. You can see it all the way from where you sit, see the way he loses himself in the music, lets the rhythm radiate through his blood, lets his heart match the beat that booms through the speakers. This, all of it, the music, the dancing, the energy—it’s all his. It belongs to him. Jungkook may love film but he is passionate about this. It is something that must bring him all the joy in the world. 
The next hour and a half goes by quickly, the songs jumping from one to another to another, Jungkook dashing on and off stage, each time returning in a different getup than the one prior. Makes you wonder just how many clothes he has. But before you know it the final song is playing and every one, every single member is on stage, jumping and cheering and celebrating a job well done. And they should, because they deserve to. 
When the lights in the theater come on, nobody leaves. Instead, everyone rushes towards the stage to say hello to everybody, congratulate them on their performance and take pictures with their friends. That’s why everyone else is here, isn’t it? Because the people they care about performed tonight. 
Isn’t that why you’re here, too?
Jungkook has plenty of other friends already wrapping their arms around him, giving him high-fives and pats on the back, but you’ve got a bouquet of assorted flowers in your hands and you have no plans on bringing them home. So you squeeze your way through the crowd, push yourself in between bodies, and you shout, 
“Jungkook!”
Jungkook looks up instantly at the call of his name, the round shape of his lips curving upwards into a smile when he sees you. 
“Hey, you made it!” He exclaims happily. He’s so pumped on the adrenaline that he pulls you into a hug without either of you even realizing it, wrapping his arms around your torso and squeezing you tight for a few moments before the two of you remember just exactly who you both are. Quickly, you pull away, chuckling awkwardly. Jungkook scratches at the back of his head. “Thanks for, uh—thanks for coming.”
“Of course,” you say happily. “You were amazing.”
“What can I say, I’m a man of many talents,” Jungkook schmoozes, annoying as always. 
You scoff slightly. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Here, I brought this for you. It’s traditional, right?” You hold out the bouquet in front of you, pink plastic wrapping crunched up from where your fingers gripped the stems. 
“Wow, thank you,” Jungkook says, in awe as he takes the flowers from you, pressing his face into the petals instinctively. “No one’s ever gotten me flowers before.”
“Really?” You say, genuinely surprised at his admission. He’s never been given flowers before? Not even for a performance? You didn’t know that, either. “Then I’m glad to be the first.”
“You know you didn’t have to do that,” Jungkook says, though he looks grateful nonetheless. 
You shrug, acting casual. “Aren’t we supposed to be falling in love, or something?”
He grins. 
“Did you guys film this? Maybe we could incorporate it into the movie,” you suggest, thinking it might be interesting to add in glimpses into your normal lives, into the things you do when you aren’t trying to one-up each other. 
Jungkook shakes his head. “We did, but I don’t think we need to add it in.”
“Why not?” It seems like a perfect addition. 
Jungkook pulls out a single flower from the bouquet, a pale yellow daisy, and hands it to you. You smile your thanks, twirling the stem in between your fingers. 
“I don’t know,” he says, looking oddly soft, cheeks turning cherry red. He looks at you and it makes your heart flutter, quickens the drum of your chest. “I just think I’d like to keep this moment to ourselves.”
You suppose he’s got a point. You don’t think you’ll forget this night, either. 
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The bouquet you gave him sits on Jeon Jungkook’s bedroom windowsill, bathing in the afternoon sun. Taehyung gave him some plant food the morning after you came to his performance, a little bottle that he can spritz into the water whenever the flowers look a little droopy. Jungkook adds some every day, determined to keep them alive for as long as possible. He also makes sure he’s got a rather heavy book or two, something he can use to press one of them when they’ve all shriveled up. 
It was really nice of you to come to his show, he thinks to himself. Jungkook can’t remember the last time someone outside of his group of close friends went to see him perform, not any of his past dates or even that one girl he was seeing semi-seriously for a couple months last year until she told him she wasn’t interested in him anymore. You’re the first one who’s made the effort, who’s told him that you would come and kept that promise. The flowers are just a happy reminder. 
As a celebration for completing their last show, Jungkook and some of the other juniors in his dance crew decide to go out the following weekend, determined to waste away their Saturday nights at a bar just off of campus where they can take as many shots of as many different types of alcohols as they want. The place even has soju, which makes Jungkook’s heart happy. 
Despite the temptation to drink until his brain is empty, however, Jungkook holds off. He’s got a lot of work tomorrow, most of it consisting of editing the footage you have for the project, and doesn’t really feel like staring at a computer for eight hours straight with a headache. So he limits himself. For the most part. 
“Who was that girl that came to the show?” One of his friends, Andrew, asks as he downs another shot of what is undoubtedly vodka, if the smell is anything to go by. “With the flowers?”
“Is she your girlfriend?” Jesse pipes up, red in the face from the alcohol in his system. He’s always been one to turn into a tomato after drinking. 
Jungkook chuckles awkwardly, shaking his head when the bartender offers him another shot glass full of soju. “No,” he says, forcing a laugh. “Just a friend.”
“I don’t know, you guys looked pretty close to me,” Andrew points out, like it wasn’t already obvious enough that Jungkook is head over heels for you. 
“She and I are working on a film project together,” Jungkook explains, though that does absolutely nothing to convince his friends of your completely platonic relationship. 
“Sounds fun,” Jesse says, swallowing another shot and wincing. “It was nice of her to bring you flowers. My girlfriend didn’t do that.”
“Shut up, your girlfriend is studying abroad in Paris right now,” Andrew says, giving Jesse a good-natured shove. “I’m gonna tell her you said that.”
“What, please don’t—”
“She’s not my girlfriend, guys,” Jungkook repeats himself, feeling his cheeks heat up the longer the conversation drags on. He chalks it up to the soju in his system and the fact that it feels like a sauna in here. “Seriously, we’re just friends. People can be friends and bring each other flowers.”
Jesse pumps his fist in the air. “Yeah!” He rounds on Andrew. “Where are my flowers, hey Andrew?”
The two of them start bickering as Jungkook laughs, shaking his head fondly. At least he’s not drunk, so he can remember nights like these, ones where he’s drinking with his stupid idiot friends, celebrating a show well done. 
Jungkook stays at the bar until eleven that night before he makes the executive decision to go home and sleep, because as much as he would like to party until three in the morning, he’s got a pile of work that’s telling him to be a real adult. So he bids his friends goodbye and begins to make the trek back to his apartment, passing by the row of frat houses on his way. 
Even though he’s out on the sidewalk, Jungkook can feel the ground rumble from the music, every frat on the block joining together to make some booming, bass monster. From here he can see the flashing blue and purple lights in the windows, see the brothers standing on the steps of each house and turning away whoever they deem unfit to enter. 
In a weird way, it makes Jungkook nostalgic. Reminiscent of when he was a freshman, when he would group up with all of the people in his hall and parade around the frat row on Saturday nights like they owned the place, getting drunk on shitty tequila and jumping until they sweat out their body fluids. He remembers those nights in flashes, bits and pieces that make up his memory of freshman year as a whole. Remembers kissing other girls, other girls kissing him. Remembers the way he would lock lips with them for a second and then forget about it by the next day. 
Jungkook wonders why he ever thought he would meet his soulmate at a frat party. 
He’s just passing the last frat house now, nodding to the guy on the step when they accidentally meet eyes, when he hears you call his name. 
“Jungkook!”
He whips around to see you on the other side of the road, waving at him excitedly while your friends all laugh, sending smiles Jungkook’s way. 
Jungkook isn’t exactly sure what the protocol is for a scenario like this, so he does what he thinks is right and waves back. 
“Come over here!” You shout at him, loosely gesturing for him to join your group. Jungkook is hesitant, not sure if that’s necessarily the best course of action because even from here he can tell that you’re drunk, leaning over to one side and giggling at nothing. But even if he isn’t sure what will happen he can’t help but fall into the way you’re beaming at him, waving excitedly because you saw him on the street and you wanted to say hello.
He’s never been able to resist you. 
“Hey, what are you doing out here?” He says as he jogs over, greeting the rest of your friends with a patient smile. 
“Went out with my friends,” you say. Jungkook can smell the alcohol on your lips. “And then I saw you, which made me happy!”
You stumble over nothing, shoes skipping as they drag along the pavement, and before any of your friends can react Jungkook is reaching his arms out, catching you before you fall flat on your face. Your hands press against his torso as he lifts you back to your feet, and all Jungkook can do is pray that you can’t hear the way his heart races, beat drumming in his ears. You giggle in his hold, disoriented but not at all uneasy, looking up at him as your eyes sparkle in the glow of the streetlamps. 
“Thanks,” you manage to cough out. 
“Sure,” Jungkook says, breathless. He stands you up and tries to let you go, but you keep your hands tight around his wrists. “I think we need to get you home.”
“Can you come with me?” You ask innocently, eyes wide. 
“Y/N…” One of your friends says, voice hesitant. She places a hand on your shoulder, looking concerned. Jungkook doesn’t take any offense to it, he doesn’t know your friends well and imagines that they would much prefer being the ones to drop you back at your place. 
You shrug her off. “No, it’s okay, Ruby,” you assure your friend, hand inching down Jungkook’s wrist until it rests firmly within his palm. “I’ll go with him.”
Ruby eyes Jungkook suspiciously and her gaze is so intense that it actually makes him doubt his ability to walk you home for a moment. But you seem intent on walking with him, and the sooner you go home the better, so Ruby relents and lifts her hand from your shoulder. “Alright, if you want to.” She keeps her eyes trained on Jungkook. “Text me when you’re back.”
“I will, I will,” you say, brushing her off and waving her away. “Let’s go, Jungkook. I’m sleepy.”
“Okay, come on,” he says. You smile happily at your friends as you say goodbye, cheerful and drunk and tired, all at once, and you begin to walk towards your apartment. 
“I’m glad you’re here,” you tell him, positively filter-less. 
“I’m glad I’m here, too,” Jungkook assures you. “What did you have to drink tonight?”
“Not sure,” you admit happily. “Just a lot.”
“I can tell.” Jungkook nods. “Were you at a frat party?”
“Several,” you correct him. “They weren’t that fun but at least the drinks were free.”
“Why were you at a frat party if you don’t like them?” Jungkook asks you, nose scrunched up. You certainly aren’t the kind of person to hide your distaste for things. That is something that Jungkook is intimately familiar with. 
You shrug. “It’s the cheapest place to get drunk.”
“Why did you want to get drunk?” This is seeming more and more out-of-character for you. Going to a place you despise, taking shots until you can’t walk straight, meandering around campus with Jungkook. All of these are things Jungkook could never in a million years picture you doing out of free will. 
Well, all of them except maybe the last one. You did come to his dance show, after all. 
You sigh. It’s thick and heavy and Jungkook has a feeling you won’t want to divulge any more. “I just wanted to forget.”
But the curiosity is eating at him. 
“Forget what?”
Your grip on his hand tightens. Jungkook fully expects you to dodge the question like you’ve dodged all of the ones prior, say something else to change the topic so you can sweep this discussion under the rug like all of the other ones you’ve had. But you don’t. 
Instead, you say, “You wanna know why I don’t love love the way you do?”
“You don’t have to tell me,” Jungkook quickly assures you. 
“I had better options than this place,” you say, voice hollow and empty. “There were better universities that accepted me. Ones with higher-ranked film programs and bigger scholarships. I could have gone to any one of them and been just as happy. Maybe more.”
“But you didn’t,” Jungkook clarifies. 
“My ex-boyfriend goes to school ten minutes away from here,” you say, words that are most certainly news to Jungkook. You had a boyfriend? “He and I dated all throughout high school. I thought I was gonna marry him.”
The words sound so sad. It sounds like they don’t even belong to you. Like you’re recalling the memories of a different person, someone you’ve killed and buried, someone you were certain you would never have to face again. Yourself. Your past self. 
“And then he broke up with me at the beginning of last year and it was too late to transfer out.” Your words are slurred and garbled, like all you want is to get over with saying them in the first place. It’s not a dramatic revelation. It’s not something you’re crying about, sobbing into Jungkook’s chest as you remember, miserable, a time where you were once happy. You just sound lifeless. 
Jungkook blinks at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue. It doesn’t feel right for him to speak up. Not when you’ve just revealed to him something so personal, so drunk that you probably won’t even remember saying anything when you wake up tomorrow morning. 
What is he supposed to do with this knowledge? What is he supposed to say? To do? It’s not like Jungkook can change your past. It’s not even as if he can change the near future. Your project is almost finished—the semester is almost over. And then you will return to the time where you never even knew each other. 
“You can say something,” you tell him.
“What do you want me to say?” Jungkook says. 
“Something to make me feel better, because now I’m sad,” you request simply. “Seeing you made me happy.”
“Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut and smile, then,” he muses to himself. 
“No, please keep talking,” you plead, leaning into his body with your bottom lip puffed out, eyes big and round and desperate. “Listening to you gets me to stop thinking about this stuff.”
Hearing that, Jungkook says the first thing that comes to mind. And that is, “You don’t have to think about that stuff anymore at all.”
“Hmm?” You murmur into his chest. Jungkook sees your apartment building up ahead. Just another block or so. 
“Well, that was your old love story,” he begins tentatively. Jungkook’s almost fully sober by now but he feels like he won’t ever get another opportunity to say this, and maybe whatever soju is left in his system is enough to get him through this conversation. Enough for him to muster up the confidence to tell you what he’s been wanting to tell you for a while now. 
Even if you forget it by tomorrow. He knows this is his only chance. 
“And it didn’t have a happy ending, but that’s okay. Because ours will.” 
You’re just coming up to your apartment complex, the rusted gold doors of the entrance sticking out against the beige of the building and the sidewalk, shimmering in the light of the streetlamps. You pause right outside, taking cover underneath the red awning above your heads. Looking up at him, you blink expectantly. 
“How do I know you mean that?” You ask. 
He almost does it. 
Jungkook doesn’t really know what washes over him in that moment, what takes his heart and mind prisoner for a split second, grip tight and unforgiving. But he’s staring straight into your watery eyes, glossy and glimmery and glowing, lost in the way you press your lips together, the way you gaze up at him and wait for him to tell you what he’s always wanted to say, and he almost does it. His hands press at your sides, holding you close, like he’s afraid that if he lets you go you’ll vanish without another trace and this night will all have been for naught. 
But he doesn’t. 
He doesn’t for a lot of reasons. You’re drunk. When you wake up tomorrow, you will not remember this conversation. But Jungkook will. And if he does it, if he kisses you, if he presses his lips to yours it will be burned into his thoughts, carved into his heart, and you will be none the wiser. Jungkook can’t do that to himself. And he can’t do that to you, either. He will never take advantage of your company. He never has.
“Because,” Jungkook says instead, having hesitated for far too long. “I promise you.”
It’s good enough for him. 
He tucks you into bed at 12:17AM that night, feet padding along your hardwood floor so he doesn’t wake up your neighbors, guiding you to your bedroom and reminding you to text Ruby that you made it home safely. Jungkook’s never gotten a very good look at your place, and even now it’s hard to make out most things without the main ceiling lights on, but he doesn’t really want to snoop. Even though you invited him in, he still feels like he’s intruding. You’ve always been so private. There were a lot of things said tonight that Jungkook is going to have to reckon with. 
Once you’re curled up beneath your sheets, eyes drooping, Jungkooks turns off the light on your nightstand and nearly, just about nearly, presses his lips to your forehead. He manages to avoid doing that, too. 
Instead, he pulls up your duvet and heads towards the main room, making a beeline for your front door. But before he can leave the room, he hears you mumble out his name. 
“Jungkook?” You call, voice groggy. 
“Yeah?” He looks back at you from where he stands in your door frame, one hand on the knob, ready to pull it closed. 
You smile, eyes fluttering. “Thank you,” you say. 
Jungkook grins. 
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The next morning you wake up with a pounding headache and three missed calls from Ruby, which undoubtedly means that something positively terrible happened last night. Unfortunately, you have no idea what happened at all last night, good or terrible, so whatever Ruby has to say will be news to you. 
Rubbing your eyes as you wrack your brain in the hopes of figuring out how you even ended up back at your apartment (when you swear you told Ruby you would stay at hers), you press on Ruby’s contact and call her. 
“Y/N? Hello? Are you there?” Ruby answers on the first ring. 
“I’m here,” you mumble out, words jumped and barely intelligible. You wince as your eyes adjust to the harsh blue light of your phone screen, squinting as you look at the time. 
Shit, it’s 11:43AM and you’re meeting Jungkook for coffee at noon. 
“Good, I called you three times last night after you texted,” Ruby wastes no time diving into her interrogation. 
“Why?” You ask, scrambling out of bed with your phone pressed between your shoulder and your ear. Your head throbs so you quickly take some Ibuprofen, splash your face with water, and start looking for something clean you can put on. 
“Because texting me ‘home’ is not enough!” Ruby exclaims. “Jungkook walked you home last night, I wanted to make sure you were tucked in bed and feeling alright.”
You frown. You don’t remember that. Granted, you don’t remember a lot of things, but you can’t recall Jungkook walking you back. You saw him last night? You didn’t even know. Scratching your head, a part of you vaguely pictures him standing in your apartment in the dark, resting against the door frame to your bedroom in the warm yellow light of the lamp on your nightstand. Can just barely see him tucking you into bed, placing the sheets over your figure and making you text Ruby that you’re home. You thought you were just imagining it at the time, but it must have happened anyway. 
“Jungkook walked me home?”
“Yeah, you insisted,” Ruby says. “You probably don’t remember, though.”
“No,” you say dumbly. 
“Well, I appreciate you texting me that you were home but I would have preferred something more explanatory,” scolds Ruby. “I thought maybe Jungkook was gonna do something.”
“Oh my goodness, no,” you immediately interject, pulling on your shoes and stuffing your laptop into your backpack. Just the thought of Jungkook doing something like that sends your stomach for a whirl. “He would never do that. I trust him.”
“I mean, I see that now,” Ruby points out. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine,” you promise. “Everything’s good.”
“Alright, if you say so,” Ruby says, still sounding a bit like an overprotective mother. You love her, though. You know she just wants the best for you. “Take it easy today, okay? You had a lot to drink last night.”
“I will,” you assure her. “I’m just on my way to meet up with Jungkook now. Getting coffee.”
“Make sure to eat, too,” Ruby reminds you. “And tell Jungkook that I said thanks for walking you home.”
“Anything else, Mom?”
You can practically see Ruby frowning on the other end. “Oh, shut up. I’ll see you, okay?”
She bids you goodbye just as you’re dashing out the door, your usual stride quickening so you make it to the cafe in time, not wanting to keep Jungkook waiting. You make it there in a record five minutes, pulling open the door frantically just as the clock strikes noon. 
Jungkook’s already there, of course, sitting by a little round table in the corner of the room with two americanos on the table. He waves when he sees you standing by the entrance, and the mere sight of him makes you smile, shoulders relaxing. 
“Hey,” you greet, a little out of breath as you settle into the chair across from him. 
“Hey,” Jungkook says back. “How are you feeling?”
“My head is killing me, but other than that I’m alright,” you admit, taking a sip of the drink. It’s piping hot but just the right amount of scalding, warming your insides after a night of filling them with pure poison. 
“Good.” He grins. “It’s nice to see your face.”
“Oh, yeah, speaking of which,” you say while still on the topic, “did you walk me home last night? I can’t remember.”
Jungkook nods. “Yeah, I bumped into you and your friends while I was on my way back from a bar.”
You wince. The fact that you don’t even remember that happening tells you enough. “I was super drunk, wasn’t I?”
Jungkook, nice as always, says, “I’ve seen worse.” It only makes you feel the slightest bit better. 
“Hope I didn’t say anything embarrassing,” you say, knowing you have a tendency to lose your filter almost entirely when you get wasted, letting any sort of mental reasoning fly out the door the moment you down another shot. And the thought of having told Jungkook something deeply humiliating or personal, or even him witnessing something stupid, makes you feel weirdly exposed. 
Jungkook freezes for a split second, almost like he’s buffering, like he’s about to say something but it’s just taking him an extra step to get the words out of his mouth. Then he takes a quick sip of his americano and shakes his head. “No, you didn’t. You were just very drunk. And clingy.”
“I’m so sorry you had to deal with that,” you apologize. You can’t imagine the hell you must have put Jungkook through last night. 
Jungkook laughs. “It’s okay. I’m glad we got you home safe.”
“Me, too.” You nod. You send a grateful smile his way. “Thanks for walking me, by the way. I really appreciate it. Ruby says thanks, too.”
“Anytime,” Jungkook says. It doesn’t sound like something that people say just to say it. The way that people say ‘anytime’ just so they can be friendly and amicable. He says it and he means it, says it genuinely and honestly, like it’s a real promise that he’s making. That he would be happy to walk you home again. No matter the hour. No matter how drunk you are. No matter what he’s doing. 
And that means a lot to you. 
“We should probably wrap up filming soon, huh?” You say, getting onto the topic at hand. Of course, the project is the whole reason you’re even talking to each other in the first place. “It’s due in three weeks.”
“Yeah, I was thinking of another outing? And maybe one more thing with Taehyung?” Jungkook suggests. 
You narrow your eyes suspiciously. “‘Another outing’, Jungkook? What exactly do you have in mind?”
He grins. 
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This time, Jungkook is the one with the flowers. 
When you open your front door they’re the first thing you see, an enormous bouquet of an assortment of spring flowers in a variety of colors—pinks and purples and oranges and yellows—gripped neatly in Jungkook’s hand. They stick out against his otherwise rather formal attire, a simple black dress shirt and jeans, nice shoes that compliment his figure. Black truly is the world’s most slimming color, and Jungkook is no exception. He looks good. 
“For you, m’lady,” Jungkook says dramatically as he holds out the bouquet in front of him.
“How thoughtful of you,” you muse to yourself, grinning. You take the flowers and press your whole face into them, breathing in the fresh scent. “The one I gave you wasn’t nearly this big.”
“Go big or go home,” Jungkook teases. “You look nice, by the way.”
“You always sound so surprised when you say that,” you comment snidely, shaking your head as you grab your bag from the shelf next to your door. “What are we doing tonight, Jeon? Gonna keep it a secret from me like last time?”
“That depends,” Jungkook says knowingly. “Do you like secrets?”
“You should know what I like by now,” you remark. 
“Then prepare to be wowed.” He grins, taking your hand in his as he pulls you out the door. 
The restaurant you go to this time does not require a ten minute drive to the center of town. Instead, it’s a five minute walk from campus and actually happens to be a place you’ve been to before. It’s a busy little thing on a Friday night, waiters bustling about with trays in their hands, people laughing and smiling under the dim light of the chandeliers. You’ve only been here once, long ago, for a club dinner paid for by the finance chair, and for good reason. It’s not the kind of place cheap college students looking to get the most food for the least amount of money go to. 
“Isn’t this a bit out of budget for our rom-com?” You ask as the host seats you at your table, a little booth in the middle of the restaurant, lanterns resting on the corners of the seats. 
“I thought this was a mockumentary,” Jungkook jokes. 
“Yeah, yeah,” you say, resisting the smile that fights its way across your face. Trust you to make that sort of blunder in front of him. “I mean it, though. This place is expensive.”
“It’s manageable,” Jungkook promises. “I’ve been saving up. Plus, I thought you deserved a nice night out.”
“How generous of you.”
“Oh, come on, I know you’re excited,” he narrows his eyes at you. “You don’t have to act like a stone-cold robot anymore.”
“Well…” you suppose enough is enough. Jungkook can see right through you anyway, so there’s no point in keeping up this indifferent facade of yours. “Only because you’re treating me so nicely.”
“Just please don’t order the steak,” he requests simply. 
You laugh. “No problem. Maybe we could just share a couple of appetizers?”
Jungkook likes the sound of that. 
Luckily, this is not one of those restaurants where the appetizers cost an arm and a leg and are the size of your pinky finger. You and Jungkook split three different ones, happy to scoop out portions for each of you and indulge in them together. 
Dinner dates—of which this is only sort of one—are always awkward because you spend half of the time shoving food into your mouth, but you and Jungkook don’t seem to mind the silence at all. Only, Jungkook does look sort of like he’s holding back.
“Is this enough food for you?” You ask him halfway through, distantly remembering how he absolutely devoured a whole plate of pasta last time and still having enough room in his stomach to finish yours. 
“What do you mean?” Jungkook asks over a mouthful of vegetables. 
“You ate so much at the Italian place, I just want to make sure you aren’t still hungry,” you point out. 
“Oh.” Jungkook pauses, swallowing down the bite in his mouth. “No, I’m okay. Thanks for thinking of me, though.”
“Yeah, of course,” you say. You hesitate for a moment, not sure if you should say anything else. But what the hell, right? It’s Jungkook. It’s Jungkook and he walked you home when you were drunk, he gave you flowers, he let you borrow his jacket. And you feel as though you must return the favor. “Anytime.”
He smiles. 
Despite the pure ecstasy you both experience when eating delicious food, Jungkook makes sure not to waste this time and grabs a few frames of you eating with his camera. He always seems to have that with him whenever he’s with you, hanging around his neck or stuffed into his backpack or crammed into his pants pocket. Sort of makes you wonder just how much footage the two of you have of each other. 
He insists on paying but you send him some money anyway, just because letting him shoulder the burden of a place as expensive (for college students, at least) as this just doesn’t sit right with you. Whenever he receives the Venmo notification on his phone, Jungkook frowns and says that he’ll send that money back to you, but he never does and you can tell that he really does appreciate it. 
You don’t think you have any plans on stopping that for a while. 
The only downside of going to this restaurant is that there is no gorgeous, light-strung park in the vicinity the two of you can wander around. Just your campus, which you have no doubt walked a thousand times over, and the streets surrounding it, which you have memorized like the back of your hand. 
It almost makes you think that Jungkook is just going to drop you back off at your place and the night will end there, but you know better than to expect something like that from Jungkook. Instead, as you’re walking, you point out the cafe that you and Ruby always go to, see that it’s closing in half-an-hour, and Jungkook decides then and there that it’s your next destination. 
“You’ve never been here before?” You ask when you walk inside, eyes immediately drifting to the display of pastries beside the register. 
“I’m not normally on this side of campus,” Jungkook admits. “You’re the only reason I’m ever here.”
“Then hopefully after finding this place, you’ll have two reasons,” you say cheerfully. The baristas behind the counter know you on a first-name basis, are happy to help you out even though they’ve no doubt been working long hours and are ready to close up shop and go home. 
You split a tiramisu and sit at that same corner table you and Ruby always pick, empty now that it’s so late at night. Other than the employees, you and Jungkook are the only ones in here, a far cry from the hustle and bustle of the restaurant, filled to the brim with people, the smell of cooked food wafting through the air. 
 The tiramisu isn't as fresh as it would be bright and early in the morning, but you suppose that that just means you and Jungkook will have to come back. Besides, Jungkook obviously does not seem to mind, scarfing it down ruthlessly. You’re in and out just as they close up shop, the employees bidding you goodbye like old friends, sending you on your way. There’s not really much else either of you have planned for tonight, and Jungkook isn’t coming up with any new ideas as he checks his phone. Instead, you just begin to head back to your apartment, all wrapped up in each other. You place your hand in his own and feel yourself relax when he squeezes, a silent little reminder that he’s still here, and that so are you.
Funnily enough, holding hands feels natural to you at this point. 
“Tonight was fun,” you comment, breaking the quiet.
“Yeah, glad we could do this,” Jungkook agrees. “Makes me kind of sad to know that this thing is almost over.”
“What, the project?”
Jungkook shrugs. “Yeah. And the class. And the semester. It’s kind of scary. We’ll be seniors next year.”
You chuckle. “Ugh, don’t remind me. I still have no idea what I’m going to do after we graduate.”
“You don’t have to know everything,” Jungkook reassures you. “As long as you’re happy with what you have now.”
“Are you?” You inquire, looking up to meet his eyes. 
Jungkook beams down at you. “I am.”
The walk from the cafe to your apartment is short, just under five minutes, but it feels like it takes you an hour, footsteps slow and languid, like neither of you want the night to end. You hit every red light, round every corner, drawing out the evening for as long as you can. Unfortunately, there is only so much you can do on a five-minute walk, and before you know it, you’re home.
“This is me,” you say, stopping outside the gold doors of your apartment complex. “Thanks again for tonight.”
“Anytime,” Jungkook says, a common thread in your conversations. 
“Really?” You ask, skeptical. “Our project’s almost over.”
“That doesn’t mean we have to stop doing this,” Jungkook says. 
You narrow your eyes. “What are you implying, huh, Jungkook?”
“This.”
Before you know it, he’s wrapping one hand around your waist and pulling you in close to him, your palms splayed out against his broad, toned chest, pressing his lips to yours. You gasp a little into the feeling, somewhat shocked he would dare be so bold even after all this time, but find yourself sinking into the touch. He tastes like coffee and cream, like peppermint from his chapstick, like the wine you shared tonight. You cave into the way he holds you, hands wrapped around your body, palms pressed firmly against your figure. He holds you like he’s afraid to let go, like he’s trying to remind himself that you’re real and here and that you are kissing him back, like he’ll forget once the moment ends. 
But he need not worry about that. 
When you part, you don’t even bother wiping off the stupid smile on your face, kiss-drunk and filled with glee. It’s been a long time since you felt this way. And Jungkook makes you feel things you don’t even think you can explain. 
“How bold of you,” you comment, noses touching, barely an inch away from each other. 
“I figured I’d shoot my shot,” Jungkook says. He shrugs, pretending to be casual, but you can see the way he’s grinning, beaming, down at you. 
“You scored,” you remind him.
“How observant of you,” teases Jungkook in return. You pout a little at his playful mockery, heart fond. “Think we can do it again?”
“Hmm, I would tone down the ego first,” you say, already leaning back in to press your lips against his. 
“Never.” He smiles wickedly. 
It’s a quicker kiss this time, a short peck against his cherry red mouth, but it still makes your heart beat something terribly fierce. 
“See you soon?” You ask when you finally pull away, knowing that as much as you’d like to, you can’t just stand out here kissing each other forever. 
Jungkook nods, cheeks pink and warm to the touch. He looks so sleek in his formal black outfit, crisp button-down and slacks, hair all styled, but the way he’s grinning at you makes him look so young, so sublimely happy. It’s nice. 
“Anytime.”
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“There’s my favorite couple!” Taehyung greets excitedly when he swings open the door to his apartment to reveal you and Jungkook standing on the other side. 
“What’s it to you?” You comment snidely as he lets you inside, the black sheet still taped up along his wall. It looks a little more wrinkled than when you last saw it. 
“Oh, nothing,” Taehyung singsongs. He definitely knows a lot more than he cares to tell either you or Jungkook, but whatever. The project’s almost over and he’s almost finished with university entirely. “You guys are just cute together, that’s all.”
“Like you even know the half of it.” You tell him with a roll of your eyes. 
Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows. “Ooh, do tell.” He grins that greasy, comic-book-villain grin of his as he starts moving his bar stools back to where the sheet lines his cream-colored wall. 
“Isn’t that the whole point of this?” Jungkook poses, making you laugh from where you’re seated on the couch, watching Jungkook set up his tripod in exactly the place he wants it. You smile at him as you recline against Taehyung’s poor old leather couch, so worn-down from use that the back cushions fold in when you press against them, and Jungkook peers out from behind the camera to blow you a kiss. 
You send him one back without even needing to think. 
Taehyung misses the whole scene, but no doubt he’ll be putting two and two together pretty soon. You and Jungkook agreed that for the last interview you would be questioned together, long before Jungkook actually managed to romance you off your feet, and there’s not a doubt in your mind that the two of you being interviewed side-by-side will make things much more interesting. 
Nevertheless, Jungkook sets up the camera and sends a thumbs-up your way when he’s ready, Taehyung sitting on the bar stool just outside of the frame with a couple of index cards in his hand. 
“Let’s do this,” you say, hauling yourself onto the seat. Jungkook does the same shortly after, scooching onto the one next to you as you stare at Taehyung, waiting for him to start. 
“Looking forward to this one?” Taehyung asks knowingly. 
You shrug nonchalantly. “Just a little.”
“Excellent. Shall we begin?”
You and Jungkook nod. 
“Alright. Well, this is presumably the last thing the two of you will be filming for your project. How are you feeling about it?”
“It turned out better than I thought it would,” you admit. It will come as a shock to no one that you did not have very high hopes for this project when it was first assigned. 
“Of course it did, I’m your partner,” Jungkook teases, poking you in your side. “Would you ever doubt me?”
“Always,” you say.
Taehyung chuckles. “Sounds like it’s been good so far. Did you enjoy filming it?”
You nod. “Yeah, it was actually kind of fun. Except for when Jungkook spilled coffee all over me, that was not cool.” You turn to face Jungkook directly, and all he does when you say his name is wink and point at you. 
“It was for the rom-com, I don’t know what you expected,” Jungkook said. “I gave you my jacket, too.”
“How gentlemanly.”
Taehyung chuckles, warm and low. “I’m sure Jungkook learned his lesson,” he muses. “What was your favorite thing to film?”
Not when I randomly texted you five minutes before I showed up at your door to make you ask me questions about how I feel, you think to yourself. Jungkook still doesn’t know, but you think you’ll put it into the movie just for the hell of it, so he’ll find out then. Find out that you were grappling with your feelings for him long before you ever let on.
“The serenade was a blast, a special shoutout to the Eighth Notes for doing that for me,” Jungkook says immediately. Obviously that is at the top of his list. “Plus, I just like seeing Y/N all flustered.”
“Shut up, you’re so annoying,” you chide. “I guess the serenade was kind of cute. I liked going out together, though. On our not-date.”
Jungkook objects to that instantly. “It was a date, Y/N!”
You look back at him, equally as scandalized as he. “Whose turn is it to talk?”
“Mine, actually,” Taehyung interjects. “Did you like going out together?”
You sigh a little, wondering if you’re really about to turn into a softie in front of a camera for a movie to be shown to your twenty classmates and professor. “Yeah,” you say, real and true because that’s what you agreed on, you and Jungkook. To be candid. To be honest. To say how you felt. Really. “It was really nice. I hadn’t gone out with someone like that in a long time.”
“And were you happy because of the project, or because of Jungkook?”
“Well,” you begin, not exactly sure where to start. “I guess, it’s like… you know, I didn’t even know Jungkook before this project. I mean, I knew who he was, he would always respond to my discussion board posts and object to everything I said in class. But I didn’t know him as a person. But as we worked on this project together, planning and filming and editing, I started to. And we did so many things together. And I guess I just really enjoyed the time we did spend as a pair.”
“Would you say the same, Jungkook?”
“Yes,” Jungkook says easily. “That’s what I wanted. To get to know Y/N, to spend time with her. I was glad we had this project. Otherwise, we might never have done something like this.”
“You both seem very happy.”
“I think we are. This project was actually sort of a blessing in disguise. I know him a lot better, now,” you say. “I’m glad that I do. He makes me smile, and laugh, and I always feel happy when he’s around. I don’t know. He did it, somehow.”
“Jungkook?”
“It wasn’t just me. Y/N and I did this together. We made this. This project. Us. It wasn’t just her, or just me. It’s ours.” Jungkook grins.
“Are you glad you did this project?”
Of course. It was fun, and I liked filming it, and I feel like I got something really important out of it. I know it’s just a short rom-com mockumentary, but it really feels like there was a happy ending, you know? A happily ever after.”
“You seem really certain about that.”
“Well,” Jungkook says with a little scoff, “what else would you call it?”
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“As you can see, obviously Y/N fell head over heels in love with me thanks to this wonderful project—”
“Why are you always so full of yourself—?”
“Hey, you’re ruining the voiceover! As I said, as you can see, Y/N fell head over heels in love with me, but that wasn’t just because of my dashing good looks and amazing singing skills.”
“The ends of your hair look like hay—”
“It was because we were honest with each other, and because we spent meaningful moments together, and because we kept our hearts open. And I guess that’s the truth of it all, isn’t it? Love, romance, relationships? If you close yourself off, you’ll never get to experience them. But if you take every opportunity with an open mind, then you never know what might happen. Like falling in love with your discussion board nemesis.”
“Who, me?”
“Just let me finish, come on. There’s like one paragraph left. I know this was a mockumentary, not a scripted rom-com with professional actors and screenwriters and a whole team of editors. But that was the whole point. To make it real. And to make it between two people who aren’t just characters on a screen. We’re real people, and this happened to us. And it makes us happy. And it can happen to you, too. I think we all learn something every time we watch a new movie. Whether it be about loss, or promises, or other people. This time, we learned about love. Real love. How it can be rocky and strange and come straight out of left field. But also how happy endings aren’t just for movies and fairytales. We all deserve them. And Y/N and I found our own.”
“Are you gonna say it?”
“And so… they lived happily ever after.”
You look up at the screen, expecting to see the credits roll, but instead it’s a shot of the two of you kissing outside of your apartment building, a shot of you wrapping your arms around him as you press your lips to his. It lasts for only a few seconds, but you find yourself entranced in the moment, shocked that Jungkook somehow managed to capture it on film. He didn’t even have his camera with him that night. 
Pollack turns on the lights in your classroom as your fellow classmates applaud, all of them looking genuinely pleased that your rom-com had such a wonderful ending. Pollack herself looks rather proud, nodding to herself as she smiles at the two of you. 
“You filmed us kissing?” You hiss to Jungkook as your classmates clap, hoping the sound of it will drown out your conversation. 
“I got Taehyung to,” Jungkook whispers back. “Why?”
“I just… I thought that night was just for us.”
“The rest of it is. But I thought the kiss would be a cute way to end it. You know, happy ending and everything.”
Alright, if Jungkook insists. You nod, tensing up slightly. You hadn’t even noticed Taehyung down the street, standing behind some utility pole with the camera raised to his eye. Had Jungkook texted him in secret? Asked him to meet you outside of your apartment? Was he planning on kissing you from the very beginning?
You shake your head, willing away the thoughts as Pollack commends the two of you for a job well done. Jungkook and you stand at the front of the room for a few more seconds, getting stared down by your fellow classmates while Pollack speaks. The period ends just as she finishes up, the minutes changing the moment she closes her mouth. Within a minute or so, the whole class has emptied out, some of them congratulating you and Jungkook on the way out. 
“I’ll meet you outside, okay?” Jungkook says, eyes bright and filled with that same wonder he’s always got. 
“Yeah,” you say distantly, nodding to him as he disappears out the door. 
“You did an excellent job, Y/N,” Pollack praises, and it goes right to your head, if you’re being honest. “It was brilliant.”
“Thanks,” you say, suddenly rather shy. “That means a lot.”
“Don’t tell anyone else this,” she says, voice quiet, “but I was secretly hoping the two of you would fall in love.”
“Pollack!”
She laughs. “What? I thought you’d make a cute couple. And you do, so clearly it all worked out anyway.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s against the code of conduct,” you say, even though you know you can’t be too mad at her. After all, you wouldn’t have Jungkook if it weren’t for her. 
“Y/N, I’m tenured. I don’t care.”
“Wait…” you pause, eyes narrowing, “how many of your students have you set up with each other?”
Pollack grins. “I never reveal my secrets.”
Your mouth drops open. 
She chuckles, shooing you out the door. “Go on, go be with your boyfriend. You can tell him you both get A pluses for your project. It was excellent. One of the best I’ve seen in a very long time.”
“Thanks, Pollack,” you say, smiling gratefully. “You’re the best.”
She points at you proudly as you head out the door. “So are you.”
Jungkook is waiting by the tables where you always sit, half a flight down from your classroom. He’s leaning against the edge of them as he scrolls mindlessly through his phone, so engrossed in the Instagram explore page that he doesn’t see you walk up. 
“Guess what,” you say, getting all up in his face, just because you can. 
“What,” Jungkook says, an eyebrow raised. 
“We got an A plus on our project!” You exclaim happily, cheering. Jungkook laughs at your exuberant reaction, watches as you jump around, clapping loudly. 
“Hell yeah, we did that!” Jungkook holds his hand up for a high five, one you gladly take. Your palms smack together and the sound reverberates around the hallway. 
“You know, you and I—” you begin, placing your palms on his cheeks as you pull yourself in for a kiss, “we make a pretty good team.”
“Only because you’re so good at editing,” Jungkook says. You’re both not too bad, if you do say so yourself, but since Jungkook did so much of the filming you thought it would be better if you carried more of the weight when it came to post-production. 
“Says you,” you tease, pressing your lips to his button nose. “The happy ending thing was a nice touch, I liked it. Makes me feel like I’m in a fairy tale.”
“I’m glad,” Jungkook says with a chuckle, admiring the way you beam at him. “You know, I was really worried that you might think we didn’t have a happy ending after all, especially after everything.”
“What do you mean?” You look at him curiously. 
“Well, I just really wanted to make sure that we had a happy ending, because you’ve been through so much.”
You pause in place, eyebrows furrowing as you look up at him. Been through so much? Does Jungkook know something you don’t? Wait, no, did you… did you tell him—?
“You knew?” You ask, the realization piercing you like an arrow. “All this time, and you never said anything?”
Jungkook’s eyes widen. 
“How long have you known?”
He winces. “Since I walked you home when you were drunk. You told me.”
You did?
Shit.
“And you didn’t think that maybe you should have told me that you knew? Especially when I asked you if I had said anything embarrassing?” You cry out, indignant. “What, were you just planning on never telling me?”
“I was going to, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to know that you had admitted all those things to me,” Jungkook admits, growing desperate. “They were really personal things, I thought you might react badly.”
“Oh, so you just decided to keep it a secret instead? Look how well that worked out.”
“What was I supposed to do, Y/N? I know you would have been upset.”
“Tell me!” You exclaim. “I asked you if I had said something embarrassing that night and you said I hadn’t. And I believed you. Better to have known then than now!”
“I’m sorry,” Jungkook says.
“I can’t believe you wouldn’t just tell me. Didn’t we say we would be honest with each other? But instead, you just let me assume that all of the nice things you did for me were because you actually cared, and not because you felt bad for me?”
“I don’t feel bad for you!” Jungkook shouts. “I mean, I do, but that’s not why I took you out on dates and gave you flowers and held your hand. I do care about you.”
“Oh, so filming us kissing was just because you actually cared, too, right?”
“I don’t know why you’re so hung up about that,” Jungkook points out. 
“Because I thought it was a private moment,” you remind him. “You hadn’t filmed anything the whole night. I thought we were just going out on a date like two people who cared about each other did. Us kissing was personal. But you texted Taehyung and told him to show up with his camera anyway, right? Because you were planning on kissing me from the very beginning. Because you knew, Jungkook. You knew and you had absolutely no intention of telling me.”
“Y/N, wait, I didn’t do those things just because I pitied you,” Jungkook says, reaching out for your hand. 
You pull away. “You didn’t? Then why did you film us kissing, then?”
“Because…” he flounders. You aren’t at all surprised. “Because—”
“Enough, Jungkook. I get it,” you stop him, shaking your head. “Everything we’ve done since that first date we had, when we went to the Italian place, everything since then—it was all played up. Because you felt bad for me. I had a shitty experience with love and you wanted to make me feel better. Whatever.”
“Y/N, it wasn’t like that,” Jungkook chases after you as you begin to walk down the stairs, towards the exit. “I didn’t pity you. I still don’t. I did those things because I care about you, and I wanted you to be happy.”
“Well, you got what you wanted,” you say, arms crossed over your shoulders as you push your way out the door. “I was so happy when I was with you.”
“Wait, Y/N—”
“Bye, Jungkook.”
The door slams shut behind you. 
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“How many finals do you still have left? You finished your movie, right?”
Ruby is stirring herself a cup of earl grey tea as she sits down on the couch next to you, where you’re very obviously sulking as you scroll through the Feel Good Rom-Coms category on Netflix. 
“I just have a couple essays and a presentation,” you mumble out. “You?”
“Ugh, I still have all of my final exams to take,” Ruby tells you with a thick, heavy sigh. Clearly, she doesn't feel like talking about them now. Or at all. “The life of a biology major.”
“Hey, you’re the one who wants to be a doctor, not me,” you remind her crudely. “You better know your shit, or I’m never taking my kids to your practice.”
“Rude,” Ruby says. “There goes my family and friends discount offer.”
You laugh to yourself, a small smile inching its way across your lips. Ruby’s always known how to brighten your day, even when you feel like absolute shit. 
“What are we watching, hmm? I’m cool with anything.”
“I don’t know.” You shrug, flicking through all of the rom-com options and feeling very unhappy with all of them. “I feel like you’ve seen all of these.”
“Yeah,” Ruby says. “Whenever I’m not studying, I’m watching Netflix or The Bachelor.”
You nod. Maybe you’ll just settle on some old NCIS reruns and call it a night. 
“Oh!” Ruby exclaims suddenly, a lightbulb going off above her head. “How about we watch your movie? The rom-com you did with Jungkook! I haven’t seen it yet.”
“I don’t know…” You begin, the mere thought putting a bad taste in your mouth. For obvious reasons. 
“Come on, please? I really want to see it, you were so excited about it,” Ruby begs, getting all antsy as she climbs all over you, literally pulling your arm to get you to cave in. “It’s short, too, isn’t it? Like forty-five minutes long? We can watch whatever you want afterwards. Please.”
You huff out a breath. If it were up to you, you would move that film onto a flash drive and toss it into a dumpster on fire. But it’s not just up to you. Ruby has been asking you about it since the day you told her you were filming it, and now all she wants to do is see the final result. And it’s only forty-five minutes long. What’s that when compared to the rest of your life?
“Fine,” you relent, not wanting to fight about it any longer. “Let me get my computer.”
Ruby cheers. 
You bring your laptop over to your coffee table, turning off the ceiling lights as Ruby tucks herself underneath a blanket, hands warmed by her steaming cup of tea. You pull up the movie file and, taking a deep breath, press play. 
It opens with your first interview with Taehyung, a muted, royalty-free lo-fi hip-hop song playing in the background. You had edited it so that it would jump back and forth between your answer and Jungkook’s, highlighting the contrast between the two of you. It was mostly for comedic purposes, just because seeing you deadpan about how love doesn’t exist and then quickly switching to Jungkook wax poetic about it is amusing, but watching it now just makes you want to curl into yourself. 
You should have known that this would have never worked out. Should have kept that same jaded attitude. You let your guard down for one second and look at what’s happened to you.
The next scene that Jungkook shows is, of course, the moment he spills burning hot coffee all over you in the middle of the Starbucks, comedically panning up to your positively-flabbergasted face just to add to the shock factor. Next to you, Ruby laughs at the mishap, obviously amused by the fact that the two of you are now drenched in coffee and scrambling to clean up the mess. You try to focus your energy on how peeved you were at Jungkook after he did that, but get distracted the moment he films himself wrapping his denim jacket around you, placing it over your shoulders and making sure it’s just right. 
He didn’t have to do that, and the two of you both knew it. But still, he sent you off your class all bundled up in a jacket that smelled like him, smelled of that boyish aroma that you couldn’t get rid of, even when you put it in the wash with your lavender detergent. All of Jungkook’s clothes smelt like that no matter how much cologne he put on, always smelt woody and thick. It would consume you, that scent, a cloud surrounding your figure whenever you were near him. 
The movie keeps playing, and you keep thinking about how much of a fool you must look like in it now, all giggles and smiles as Jungkook sings Frankie Valli to you while he hands you a rose, that same sly little smile dotting his features. Hearing the song again makes you feel like you’re choking, like something’s smothering you, and you’re not sure what it is until you realize that it’s the sound of Jungkook’s voice. 
You haven’t heard him sing since he serenaded you. 
Then it’s your first date, the one Ruby told you to wear the yellow dress to (“Hey, I told you you looked amazing in it! Wow!” Ruby exclaims when she sees you). You remember when you edited this, putting the clips together of you eating at the restaurant, wandering around the park, posing underneath the trees, holding hands. You were smiling so hard your cheeks hurt while you were editing, grinning from ear to ear at all of the things the two of you did together. They were so picturesque, those scenes, so perfectly shot, so romantici—t did a fine job of convincing you that it was all real. 
You even put in the little clip of you and Taehyung talking. A mistake, now that you look back on it, of course. It was so vulnerable, so real, so candid and honest like you said you would be, and now it’s all blown up in your face. You must have looked like such an idiot to Jungkook when he saw this scene for the first time in class. You remember the wide-eyed look on his face when it popped up. Like he couldn’t even believe you had done this in the first place. 
Scoffing, you shake your head. You either. 
The rest of it you can hardly bear to watch. Just a wrap-up of your relationship, a compilation of all of the small moments you shared when you didn’t realize that Jungkook was filming, when you dared whip out your camera to shoot for a second or two. Little clips that jump from scene to scene, shots of you laughing and eating and skipping along campus as you held hands. It’s hard to reconcile the fact that it’s all over. 
You don’t even listen to the final interview, not bothering to pay attention to what you or Jungkook have to say when you were there, when you can recall every word he’s ever spoken to you at the drop of a hat. 
The truth is, you were always a goner for him. 
And look how well that played out. 
By the time the kissing scene comes up once more, you’re ready to set your whole laptop alight. 
The screen turns black as it ends, fading away into nothingness, the instrumental slowly disappearing alongside the image. You shut your laptop when it’s all over, a little too angry for your own good, but you wrestle the scowl off your face as you take a drink of water from the glass sitting on the table. 
“Wow,” Ruby says, speechless. She blinks at your closed laptop. 
“Did you like it?”
“I—I don’t even know what to say,” Ruby says, which is a first. “It was amazing, Y/N. Seriously. Gorgeous. Like, cinematographically? Stunning. The shit on Netflix isn’t even as good as that.”
Even if you did have to sit through your stupid movie one more time, the compliments make you feel a bit better. “Thanks,” you murmur. 
Ruby nods enthusiastically. “It was incredible. I’m just—I’m in awe. You and Jungkook have a gift, dude. It was seriously one of the best things I’ve watched in a really long time. And, like, not even in a cheesy, yucky rom-com kind of way. It was so… so genuine. So real. Wow.”
“I’m glad you liked it.”
“You’ll have to tell Jungkook, too,” Ruby says. “He did really well.”
“Yeah, he’s a great actor,” you say, a little too bitterly for your own good. 
“What do you mean?” Ruby raises an eyebrow your way. “I didn’t think he was acting at all. It looked pretty real to me.”
You frown. “It did?”
“I mean, yeah,” Ruby says with an honest nod. “I mean, you did tell me it was a mockumentary and not just a run-of-the-mill rom-com. So wasn’t everything supposed to be real, anyway?”
“Yes…” you trail off, unsure of the direction of this conversation.
“Well, if you ask me,” Ruby says, all matter-of-factly, “I’d say he definitely fell in love with you.”
Something rushes through you. Something warm and bright and full of energy. 
Hope. 
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Even though you have finished one of your finals early, finals week is still just as much of a slog as it always is. Three essays and two presentations deep, you aren’t finished any of them and the due dates are slowly creeping up on you, ready to pounce the moment the clock strikes twelve. 
Eh, it could be worse. You could be Ruby and have six timed, proctored final exams on biology, anatomy, and chemistry. So you suppose you can’t complain too much. 
Finals week sees you all holed up in your apartment like always, but more so this semester than any previous ones because you don’t feel like going to the library and risking seeing Jungkook there. Or anywhere, really. Since you presented on the last day of classes, you haven’t spoken since, and hopefully you can keep that streak going forever. You had made it until this semester without ever crossing paths despite being in the same major, so hopefully that luck will follow you. 
It’s almost midnight when you finally decide to call it quits for the night, having at least gotten mostly through two of your essays (just have to edit and proofread!) and worked on about half of your two presentations. Sighing, you get up from your couch and stretch, feeling your bones crack from sitting in the same place for hours on end. 
You lean over to the floor lamp by the edge of the couch, ready to flick it off and head to bed, when you hear something outside. 
“You’re just too good to be true…”
“Can’t take my eyes off of you…”
You freeze.
The voice is soft and mellow, a little muted because it’s making its way through your wooden door before it reaches your ears, but it is unrecognizable. Even without the acoustics of the Eighth Notes, you know who’s on the other side. 
“You’d be like Heaven to touch…”
“I wanna hold you so much…”
“At long last, love has arrived…”
“And I thank God I’m alive…”
Unable to resist, you wander to your front door, basking in the sound of him, in the way the notes float through the air as if on clouds, dancing along the walls as they sink into your brain. He sounds so sweet, voice warm like tea on a cold night, just singing his song on this empty, lonely night. But it’s not just his song, is it? 
It’s yours, too.
You pull open the door. 
“You’re just too good to be true,” Jungkook sings, a honeyed melody that calms the waves of your stormy heart, “can’t take my eyes off of you…”
But just because he’s here, serenading you once more, doesn’t mean he’s going to get it any easier from you. You fight to keep the smile off your face, pressing your lips together as you narrow your eyes at him. 
“I love you, baby, and if it’s quite alright, I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night…”
“I love you, baby, trust in me when I say…”
He meets your eyes with his own, and they aren’t glinting in the way they normally do, the way that they do when he knows he’s doing something to grind your gears, when he’s got a trick up his sleep. They gleam like pearls as the dim glow of your apartment lights up his figure, warm yellow mixing with the caramel in his irises.
“Oh, pretty baby, don’t bring me down, I pray…”
Oh, pretty baby, now that I’ve found you, stay…”
“And let me love you, baby…”
From behind him, Jungkook brings out a single red rose, twirling it between his fingers as he holds it out to you. 
“Let me love you…” He trails off there, voice delicate as vanishes into the chilly night air, disappearing between the two of you. 
You can’t help but take the flower from his hand. What else are you supposed to do?
“So?” Jungkook asks, hopeful. 
“Don’t think you can just show up at my apartment and woo me back by singing to me,” you chide, even though he definitely can. 
“I’m sorry,” Jungkook says simply, because there really is nothing else to say. “I should have told you.”
“I watched our rom-com again,” you tell him. “I should have believed you when you said you cared about me.”
“I always did,” Jungkook says. “I just wanted you to know that love was real, and that it was there for you.”
“I should have known,” you agree. You look up at Jungkook through lidded eyes, musing to yourself. “You know what I learned?”
Jungkook tilts his head in curiosity. “What?”
“That love isn’t a feeling. It’s a person,” you explain, sighing pleasantly. “Love comes to us through the things we share with other people. That’s what it is.” Your thumbs twiddle in front of you, the pads of your fingers rubbing at the stem of the rose.
He takes a single step forward, reaching out to take your hand in his own. “And are you pleased with who you’ve found?”
You roll your eyes. “Just shut up and kiss me already, you idiot.”
Jungkook obliges without a second thought. 
There is no one to film you this time, no project to work on. There is only you, and there is only him. And there is only a lifetime that the two of you share, a story that you have told together, piece by piece, frame by frame. Your movie didn’t end once you finished editing. Nor did it end the moment the screen went black in Pollack’s class. It wasn’t even over when you watched it a second time with Ruby. 
No, it continues on. Forever and ever, so long as you are with him. There will always be something new to capture, to burn into a disk so you’ll have it for eternity.
He pulls you in for a kiss and it’s not the end of the film. It’s the beginning of a brand new part, a new installment in the series that is your life with him. That is the relationship you have created together. His lips aren’t the fireworks as the credits roll. They are the scene where the two characters meet for the very first time and know that they were meant to be. The scene that sets all of the other ones in motion. That is who Jungkook is. That is what you are sharing, right now. 
A brand new frame. 
When you part, you press your forehead against his, soft blonde locks framing his face as they tickle your face, dancing along the skin of your cheeks.
“You called it a rom-com,” Jungkook points out randomly, just remembering now. 
“Well, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know…” Jungkook says, pretending to think about it as he rocks on the back of his feet. “Did it have a happy ending?”
You bring your lips to his once more, arms wrapped around his neck as you clasp the rose between your fingers. You make a mental note to press it later. Something else to remember him by. Something other than your movie. 
Jungkook pulls you into him once more, hands resting firmly on your waist, letting his body press against yours as you stand there in the muted light of your apartment’s living room, letting the cool spring breeze wash over you. You smile against his lips, feeling your heart race when he grins back. 
“Yes,” you declare proudly. 
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And so, they lived happily ever after. 
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↳ thanks for reading! don’t forget to let me know if you enjoyed it!
3K notes · View notes
jimidol · 8 months ago
Text
beast | jjk
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⏤main pairing: jungkook x female reader
⏤genre: angst, fluff, and smut
⏤rating: M
⏤warnings: jealousy, alcohol consumption, dom!jungkook, some teasing, swearing, spanking, fingering, praising, hickeys, handjob, jungkook has big cock, riding, car sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (please be careful!), and creampie
⏤words: 4,170
⏤summary: jungkook doesn’t like your best friend, he truly never did. Kai has always been too flirty with you and it’s something he has never liked. but this time, seeing him flirting with you at his birthday party was too much, and he felt the need to make you understand that you’re only his.
⏤author’s note: hi everyone, so here it is. i hope you’ll like it. love you all 💜
⏤tag list : @s0seo @hardcarrykookie @laurynne5 @misericordiamaria @heiressworths @thisartemisnevermisses @jaykayseagull @aretha170 @jkismyasmr @yeontanie21 @sarahhnghae @satisfied18 @diorkookie​ @baekfast-club​ @kookiesbreaky​ @jiminable​ @yiyi4657​ @sugaslittlekookies​ @shekilledthenightking​ @teresaisla​
MASTERLIST
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Jungkook is looking at you as you’re discussing with Kai.
His jaw clenches as you smile brightly at Kai and as his fingers touch the skin of your arm. He takes another sip of champagne to try to calm down, but his dark gaze never leaves you.
Jungkook never loved your best friend, he always thought that he flirts way too much with you. But although he doesn’t like him, he has done his best to not punch him in the face when he flirts with you in front of him. Kai is your best friend, and he respects that. He can’t ask you to stop being friends with him just because he doesn’t like him.
Today is Kai’s birthday and like every year, he organizes a little something with his closest friends. In your three years of relationship with Jungkook, it is the first time that he’s coming.
The first year, your relation was a secret and you didn’t want to announce things at a birthday party. The second year, Jungkook was working and couldn’t come. But this year, there wasn’t any excuse and as a matter of fact, he wanted to come to keep an eye on Kai.
“You look tense as hell.” Jin comments to his friend.
Your boyfriend couldn’t come without any support, and so, he invited Jin. He knew that if he came alone, he’d punch Kai at his birthday party.
“Just look at that jerk, touching her like they are together.” He says before taking another sip of champagne.
At this rate, he’ll be drunk in less than an hour.
“Kook, he’s just his friend. They’ve known each other for more than twenty years.” Jin says, trying to calm down his friend.
He perfectly knows that Kai has been around longer than he has, and he hates that. He hates that the only man he hates to see around you is your best friend. He hates everything about this situation.  
“If she liked him, she wouldn’t be dating you in the first place.” Jin adds.
Jungkook knows that very well but he’s just scared that in a way, Kai convinces you to leave him. He knows that he would never be able to overcome your breakup because he loves you too much.
“I know.” He says, finishing his glass of champagne. “I just don’t like him.”
For a mere moment, your eyes linger on your boyfriend and you gulp before looking away. Jungkook is sitting on a couch in Kai’s apartment, manspreading and holding an empty glass in his hands. He looks hotter than ever, and you simply can’t stare at him.
Firstly, Kai is talking to you and it would be disrespectful to not listen to him, and lastly, Jungkook would simply turn you on. Knowing yourself too well, you won’t be able to last long, only wanting for him to fuck you.
Jungkook is all in black as usual. He’s wearing black skinny jeans with a large black t-shirt and a black bomber jacket. He even puts on his big black boots that you simply love. A look that you adore on him, especially the tight skinny jeans.
Your boyfriend has some amazing toned thighs that completely drive you crazy. Actually, everything about your boyfriend’s body drives you crazy. Lately, you found a new passion for watching him working out. His body is all sweaty, and sometimes, groans leave his mouth while working out, turning you on.  
Most of the time, once he’s in the shower, you join him and end up having some wild shower sex.
And now, you don't even listen to Kai, your mind thinking only of your boyfriend and his mouthwatering body.  
“Yn? Are you listening to me?” Your best friend says, waving his hand in front of you.
“Sorry.” You mumble focusing again on him.
Jungkook’s eyes linger on your body. Even after three years of relationship, your body gets him all turned on. You’re wonderful in every way. Not only does he find you the most attractive human being, but he does also find you super smart. He loves everything about you.
“Jungkook?” Kai asks, knowing perfectly that the only person who can distract you is your boyfriend.
“What?” Your eyebrows furrow.
“Jungkook is distracting you.”
A smile spreads across his face, and you smile back at your best friend. He’s the only one to know you this good. After all those years of friendship, he knows that Jungkook is the only man on earth that can distract you.
“He’s just so hot.”
Kai has always been very supportive and he likes your boyfriend because he treats you as you should be. He has noticed the way he looks at him and he understood that Jungkook is a bit suspicious.
“I couldn’t agree more.” His eyes wander for a second on your boyfriend.
You hit your best friend on his arm, not liking at all the way he’s looking at Jungkook.
“Don’t look at him like that.”
“Hey! I am not going to steal him away from you.” He smirks, and you shake your head.
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Jungkook stopped drinking champagne after a while because he was the one driving and he didn’t want to risk your life. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if anything happens to you.
During the entire night, he kept looking at you with Kai, and he was, and still is, pissed as hell. He just felt like Kai was doing everything on purpose just to push him and get a reaction from him. But he didn’t move. He stayed still on the couch, looking at you.
Now, all he wants is to drive you home and make you understand that you’re only his. He doesn’t like to think like that because you’re a human being and not his property. But you always manage to drive him crazy and to bring out the worst in him.
He wants to make you scream his name so everyone will know who fucks you right.  
You’re sitting on the passenger seat, looking at the city before you and wondering why Jungkook is so calm. Sometimes, your eyes glance at him.  
You can see that he’s mad at you, his knuckles are white as he holds the car’s steering wheel. His jaw is clenched, and his stare is dark. He doesn’t even speak, something he only does when he’s mad, but you don’t know why.  
“Why are you mad, baby?” You ask, your eyes focusing now only on him.
Jungkook’s eyes never leave the road in front of him.
“I’m not.” His tone is harsh.
“You can lie to whomever you want but not to me, baby.” You say, insisting on the pet name.
He wants to be mad at you but he simply can’t when you call him ‘baby’. He quickly looks at you, looking hotter than ever. Your skirt is pushed up, exposing almost all your thighs and you’re wearing one of his suit jackets.
Jungkook has never told you that he doesn’t like Kai, and so, you’re not aware of how he feels towards your best friend. He has always kept things for himself, not wanting to destroy that friendship.
But now, he has to tell you. He has been keeping this to himself for way too long.  
“I don’t like Kai.” He finally admits.
Your eyes open wide, surprised at the confession. To say that you’re surprised is an understatement. Jungkook has always been so nice to Kai in front of you, and he has never shown any hate for him. The fact that he doesn’t like him never crossed your mind.
“What?” You ask with surprise.
“You hear me well, yn.” He says, annoyed.
You are confused and for a moment, you look out at the window. You don’t know how to react to his confession, and you don’t even know what you’re supposed to do now.
“Why?”
There must be a reason behind his hate. He exhales some air before tilting his head at you, looking obviously frustrated.  
“That man has no manners.” You’re even more surprised now. “He flirted with you the entire night while I was there.”
Now, you understand. Jungkook is jealous. He’s jealous of your best friend, and to you, it just makes no sense.
“He was not flirting with me, I can guarantee you that.”
You’ve already seen your best friend flirting with someone, and it doesn’t look like how he’s acting with you.
“Oh no, then, I’m the crazy one and I’m imagining things.” He squeezes the steering wheel even more and you feel the urge to reassure him.
Your left-hand finds its way to his thigh, and you carefully caress it.
“You’re not crazy, babe.” You mumble, your eyes never leaving his face. “But you’re clearly imagining things.”
He looks back at you and it’s clear to you that he’s pissed. So pissed. When you’ll get home, he’ll fuck you all night long like a savage, and you’d be lying if you said that you’re not looking forward to it.
“Kai is not interested in me the way you think and he will never be.” You add.
His eyebrow furrow, and you can’t help but find him adorable.
“How can you even possibly know that?”
“Because he’s my best friend and I know what he’s into.”
God, you’re surprised that Jungkook has never noticed the way Kai looks at men or the way he never looks at women. For sure, it’s not the guy to scream everywhere that he’s gay but you thought it was kind of obvious.
Kai never needed to say it to you, although he did it because he felt like he needed to say it out loud to someone. And the only person he trusts more than his life is you. So, it just felt natural to announce it to you.
“You never know what could happen.”
You just want to laugh at your boyfriend but you know that he’ll get even madder and you don’t want that right now.
“You’re so dumb, Kook.” You roll your eyes, trying to hold back your smile.
He’s not amused by the situation and he’s not liking at all that you call him dumb.
“Kai is gay.” You tell him. “He will never love me more than he already does.”
Now, he’s the one surprised, and he feels ashamed to have ever thought that Kai could steal you away from him.
He stops the car as he sees an empty parking lot, and his big doe eyes are fully on you now.  
“H-How?” He stutters, still in shock.
“I don’t know how sexuality works, so, I don’t know why he loves men.” He rolls his eyes.
“That’s not what I was asking.”
You take his face in your hands and look deep into his eyes.
“He doesn’t say it to everyone because he’s still scared about what people will say to him.”
It still hurts you to think about all that your best friend went through when he was younger.
“Kai struggled his entire teenage years with his sexuality, and since you were so nice to him, I thought you had understood it.”  
“It never crossed my mind.” He admits.
You unbuckle the seatbelt around your body before doing the same with him. You climb over him and sit on his lap, facing him and he looks at you with surprise. You look at him and notice the way his eyes change. They were dark, jealousy taking control of his body and now, he looks calmer.
“It’s okay, babe.” You caress his cheek, trying to comfort him.
“I feel bad, now.” He says, closing his eyes and leaning his face in your hand. He loves the sensation of your touch on his skin. “I was so obsessed with the way he was acting around you that I didn’t see the rest.”
You press your lips against his. He looks so vulnerable right now and he just breaks your heart. You regret not saying anything to him about Kai because you made his jealousy grow when he had absolutely no reasons to be jealous of your best friend.
“I wanted to punish you.” He whispers against your lips.
“Punish me?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.
“I still want it, actually.” He adds.
This man always needs to show his dominant side, and it doesn’t even surprise you. In fact, you love his dominant side, especially in bed. His filth words against your ear are always what you need when you’re about to come.  
“Tell me, babe,” you say as you stare at him with a smirk on your face, “what did I do?”
Jungkook licks his lips, loving the fact that you’re teasing him.  
“Oh, my baby girl is pretending to be innocent?” He raises an eyebrow as he smirks, and he brings both his hands on your hips. You hiss at his touch and close your eyes as he caresses your skin with his thumbs.
His face leans closer to you, his gaze filled with lust.
“You’re wearing my favorite skirt, and you ignored me the entire night, flirting around with your best friend.” He whispers in your ear. His voice is so deep and low that it makes your heart race fast.
You look down at your skirt that is obviously pushed up as your legs are on both sides of his waist. “I didn’t know you love this skirt.” You say, moving your legs to push your skirt even higher.
Jungkook can see a part of your panties and he bites his lower lip. He’s getting harder at the sight of your white panties and he can’t wait to take them off to have a proper look at your pussy. You feel his grip tightened around your hips and you unintentionally move your hips against his bulge, snatching a groan from his mouth.
“I see.” He says, smirking at you. “My baby girl is teasing me.”    
You nod at him, and his grin gets wider, satisfied that you admit teasing him. You move your hips against his crotch.  
“Fuck, I want to fuck you here, princess.” He groans.
“He-here?” You ask stammering.
The thought of being fucked in the car where basically anyone can see you don’t enchant you.
“The little guy down there won’t probably be able to wait until we’re home.” He says as he looks down at his hard length.
Kai lives a bit far from your apartment, there are approximately thirty minutes by car between your apartments, and you’re only halfway there.  
“Oh.” You say looking at his prominent bulge, and you bite your bottom lip.
You give him the confirmation that you can have sex in the car, and he smashes his lips against yours, kissing you with passion. His hands slowly go down on your body before pushing your skirt up to your stomach.
Breaking the kiss, his eyes look at your clothed cunt and he groans in a raspy tone while staring at your pussy. His groan gets you wetter, and all you want now is to feel him inside you in any way.  
“Jungkook...” You moan his name, and he hums at your call while biting his lips. He’s completely hypnotized by your throbbing clit.
Before you can even add anything, he trails his fingers to the strap of your white panties and he rips it off, finally exposing your pussy to his eyes.
“Kook!” You scream and he giggles, throwing your underwear to the passenger seat. His tattooed hand slaps your ass.  
“Don’t worry, babe.” He whispers in your ear. “I’ll buy a new one later.”
Without saying anything more, he swipes his finger along your slit, making you gasp at the contact and a soft moan escapes your mouth. A sound that Jungkook loves to hear.
The man wastes no time before dipping two fingers into your heat, his tattooed fingers covered now with your wetness. As much as he’d love to fuck you roughly right now, he needs to prepare you for it because he doesn’t want to hurt you.  
“Fuck, babe.” He mumbles, his fingers not moving inside you. “You’re so wet.”
He lets his fingers move out of pussy before sliding them in again with ease. Another moan leaves your mouth, closing your eyes to enjoy the feeling of his fingers filling you up.  
Quickly, he starts moving his tattooed fingers, fucking into you, and his eyes look at your face contorting of pleasure. To him, there is nothing prettier than you.  
“You’re so pretty, babe.”
And he just simply loves to remind you that. He could keep praising you all day long and he wouldn’t be tired of doing it.
“Not as pretty as you.” You reply.
You also love to praise him back, and you open your eyes to look at his big smile. It always makes him grin when you do it. He feels loved, and he loves nothing more in the world than the feeling of being loved by you.  
He curls a third finger into you, preparing you for his big dick and you love it so much when he adds that third finger, stretching your pussy so well.
His exposed neck seems to be calling you, and you can’t help but bring your mouth to his skin before torturing it with your tongue and teeth. A deep groan escapes his sweet lips as he keeps fucking you with his fingers.
“Are you ready, baby girl?”
He can’t wait any longer. His length is way too tight in his skinny jeans, it feels like it’s about to explode and he desperately wants to feel your velvet walls around him.  
“Always for you, babe.”
You leave his neck, looking proudly at the little mark you gave him before looking up at his lust-filled eyes.
Jungkook lets his fingers slip from you while your hands impatiently unbutton his pants. You slightly pull the jeans to his knees, leaving his underwear on. Your boyfriend doesn’t say anything as he watches you looking down at his clothed length.
When you see the huge bulge, you immediately pull his underwear down, springing his cock free. It slaps against your lower abdomen, making you moan at the contact. You take a look at it, his crotch is mouthwatering and you know that in some seconds, it will be the cause of your euphoria.
“Do whatever you want to do with me, baby.”
He just wants you to have a bit of fun before he takes control of the situation. Jungkook leans against the seat to let you take over.
“You’re always so beautiful.” He smiles, his eyes never leaving yours.
You hold his length with both your hands, making him groan at your soft touch, and you start stroking his member from up to down, spreading all the precum over his veiny cock.
Jungkook’s cock is a beast, and you’re wondering if it’ll fit inside you, although you already know the answer to your question. Your walls clench, wanting him to fill you more and more.  
After a few more strokes, you decide to stop. Lifting your ass, you rub his head on your entrance, and it makes the both of you moan. Slowly, you push him inside you, and his hands sit on your waist, his thumbs caressing it softly.  
You sink further down on him, burying his dick completely inside your wet pussy.  Jungkook hisses, breathing hard as he looks down where his length is buried. He throws his head back as he finally feels you around him. With his head thrown back, you can see the veins in his neck pulse.
“Fuck, princess.” A breathy moan escapes his mouth.
Even if he kind of prepared you with his fingers, his monstrous cock stretches your walls so much. Your hands rest on his shoulder, trying to stabilize yourself while your pussy gets adjusted to his size.  
“Fuck, your cock is a beast.” You mumble.  
Although he’s huge, you enjoy the fill of him. Nothing can ever be compared to have him inside of you, it’s something you truly love.    
“Ride me, baby.” He whispers.
You hold on to his muscular shoulders as you slowly raise yourself off his length, and his fingers sink into your waist as you almost pull off him. You know for sure that his fingers will leave some bruises on your body. You open your mouth and moan while staring at each other.
Never leaving him, you push yourself back down and take all of him in. Jungkook lets out a loud and high pitched moan. You’re sure that if someone walks near the car, they heard him moaning.
You begin to move your hips again, starting to ride him as your life depended on it.
“You ride me so well, princess.” He groans into you, and you grin, proud of all the pleasure you’re giving him.
You buck your hips faster, wanting to make the both of you come as soon as possible. You want to get home and let him fuck you as he does it so well.
“I love you.” You whisper, bouncing up and down on his cock, and his balls slapping against your ass.
Those three little words make his heart squeeze. “And I love you even more, baby.” He bites his lower lip.
The sound of slapping skin combined with your moans quickly fills the car. As you imagined people passing by and seeing you enjoying yourself with your boyfriend gets you even wetter.    
“You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen in my life.” Jungkook grunts while he watches you humping on his dick.
His eyes never leave yours as if he’s scared that this is all a dream, and you throw your head to the back. You clench your walls around him to get a reaction from him and you see his eyes rolling back.  
When your hips start to bounce on him at a slower pace, he quickens the pace up and down, letting your wet pussy coating his member with your arousal.
“Fuck, Kook.” You moan loudly.  
Jungkook grunts in every thrust.
“Harder, babe, harder.” You tell him.
“Everything my princess wants.” He grunts.
The pace quickens and the thrust deepens, making him hit your sensitive spot over and over again mercilessly. And it feels so damn good. You clench around him again just to snatch a hot moan out of him.
You scream more and more as he hits your spot over and over again, and you pant heavily. Slowly but surely, you feel a familiar wave of please building inside of you.  
“I want you to cum inside me.” You tell him.
You feel his dick twitching inside you while he keeps thrusting into you at an erratic pace. You clench around him, and it makes him groan like a beast.
“Oh fuck, baby.” He growls when your pussy clench around him.  
“Cum for me, babe.” You whisper in his ear and that’s all he needs to finally cum.
A lewd moan escapes your mouth when he pumps his cum inside you, pushing it as deep as possible inside you. Your nails dig on his shoulders, biting down your lower lip while you stare into his darkened eyes.
Looking deep into his eyes is all you need to reach your own orgasm. Jungkook keeps grinding your ass on his cock to fill every part of your pussy with his warm semen. You bury your face on his neck and nuzzle his strong scent while panting hard as you calm yourself.
His huge hands stroke your back as you both try to come down from your high.
“That was good and intense.” You tell him.
This unnecessary jealousy makes him realize one thing. He loves you more than he has ever loved someone and he wants to spend the rest of his life with you by his side.
“Marry me, yn.” He whispers in your ear like it is something not important at all.
“What?” You move back a little to take a proper look at your boyfriend. You need to see in his face if he’s serious.
“Marry me,” he repeats, “and spend the rest of your life with me.”
“You’re serious?”
He never planned on proposing to you this way but he’s deadly serious.
“Of course, I am, princess.”
You kiss him with passion before saying: “Then, make me your wife.”  
Knowing that you’ll spend the rest of your lives together makes you both happy, and you can’t wait for it.
After a while, you climb back to your seat and look at the mess you both made on him. His cock and a bit of the driver’s seat are covered with your arousal combined with his cum. You try to adjust your skirt to cover your pussy since he completely ripped off your panties and he puts back on his underwear and skinny jeans.
There is no doubt that Jungkook is indeed a beast when it comes to sex.
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kinktae · 9 months ago
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novocaine || pt. 2 (M)
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↳ PART OF MY REWIND SERIES
Going home was hard – painful even. But falling back in love with Jimin, the boy you left behind? Downright gut-wrenching.
pairing: punk!jimin x reader
word count: 12k
genre: 1990s au, exes au, angst, smut
warnings: 90s slang, alcohol, ghosts/spookiness, SMUT, oral (f), unprotected sex, jimin plows his load in y/n’s mouth yum
A/N: YEAH BOI ITS ANOTHER SERIES!!! 
01 | 02 | 03
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PART TWO
Rolling over on your bed, you met the light creeping into your room with a groan.
"Fuck." You muttered.
You didn't need to get out of bed to confirm what you already knew as fact:
You were viciously hungover.
Gone were the days of your youth where you could drink to your heart's content and hop out of bed to do it again the next day. Instead, you were incapacitated and wallowing in self-hatred for the mistakes made last night.
And what a plethora of fucking mistakes you had made.
Memories of your tongue against Yoongi's resurfaced, accompanied by a wide-eyed Jimin walking in. You reached for the pillow behind your head and pressed it over your face, smothering the sound of your mortified scream.
Letting your hands fall back down to your sides, you couldn’t find the strength to remove the fluffy cushion from your face. Maybe if you were lucky, you'd fall back asleep and suffocate quietly, freeing you once and for all from this endless cycle of perpetual regret.
Jimin had woken you up early — he mentioned something about having to head to work — and drove you back home the next morning. You were still somewhat drunk, and if you were honest, your memory of the car ride back was spotty at best. You wouldn’t doubt you had made a fool of yourself.
"Oh, good. You're awake."
The curtness of your grandmother's voice was enough for you to push the murder weapon off your face, perching yourself up on your elbows as you met Gram's eyes regrettably.
Her lips were pursed as she made her way to the foot of your bed, tugging her morning robe around her tighter with one hand and offering you a cup of coffee with another.
You took it graciously.
"Now, just because you're an adult doesn't mean I don't deserve a heads up when you're not coming home."
"I'm sorry," You began, eyes falling to the cup of joe you had wrapped both hands around, face twisted in shame. "I thought I was doing the responsible thing, but I just ended up worrying you further. I should have called."
She let out a hum, "You have Hobi to thank for the reason I've decided to let you live to see another day. I got a hit on the hip right as I was slipping into bed. He paged and told me you had gone home with Jimin."
You jerked your head up to face her. Her expression, although unreadable at first glance, held just a hint of suggestiveness. You knew at once what she was thinking.
"What time is it?" You cleared your throat.
"Two in the afternoon. Why? Did you have plans with Jimin today?" She asked, her nosiness poorly concealed with a nonchalant tone.
"What— Grams!"
She threw her hands up defensively.
"No, no, you're right. It's none of my business what you do with your ex-boyfriend."
Your ears burned at the implications of her words.
"We weren't doing anything! He just let me crash at his for the night. Get your mind out of the gutter." You explained yourself hurriedly.
"My, my," She smirked, crossing her legs, "look at you all worked up. I didn't say that you two were sleeping together."
"No, but you were hinting at it." You accused, taking a sip of the coffee. The liquid warmed your insides as it made its way down your vodka abused esophagus.
"Darling, I'm an old lady. We instigate, it's what we do." Grams confirmed with a shrug.
"It wasn't anything more than a friendly gesture. We're not getting back together or anything." You tapped your fingers against the ceramic mug. 
You recognized it as the one you had made during art class back in your youth. On it, you had painted an incredibly rough rendering of the doll from Rugrats, your favorite show as a child. You had scribbled underneath it in illegible child's handwriting 'GRAMS.'
Objectively, it had to be one of the ugliest mugs you had ever set your eyes on (Cynthia's head looked less doll-like and more like a football with noodles sticking out of it). Still, you remembered how proud you felt handing that mug over to your grandmother all those years ago.
"Besides, after last night... I doubt he'd ever want to see me again."
"Oh, sweetheart, surely that's not true." Your grandmother insisted. "You know I've always liked that Jimin boy."
"Yeah…"
"After you left, he used to drive me out to the cemetery every Sunday. Hobi would tag along too. They're good boys, those two. I remember the way Jimin spoke about you. He is so in love with you, darling—"
"Was. He was." Your words had come out colder than you wanted. But your heart was bleeding. You couldn't bear another reminder of how wonderful the boy you had mistreated was.
He took care of you last night. You didn't deserve his kindness, but he gave it to you anyway, because that's the kind of person Jimin was. The sort of person who drove his ex's grandmother to the cemetery, and who let that same ex crash at his place when she had drunk herself stupid, for fuck's sake.
But you couldn't confuse his goodwill for anything more; for something it wasn't. Something you had lost the right to years ago.
You wouldn't fool yourself into thinking that Jimin still loved you. He couldn't.
Your grandmother had sensed the way your mood had darkened, reaching over to cover your hand with her's.
You did your best to offer her a pleasant smile, eyes falling back onto your drink that now felt cold between your fingers.
Grams sighed, pushing herself off your bed.
"Well, then. It's time to start the day. I'll have lunch ready in 20 minutes. Go clean yourself up. Oh, and you've got that nice Guyi girl on the line waiting for you."
At her words, you couldn't help but perk up.
"Oh, okay. Thanks, Grams."
You watched silently as your grandmother made her way out, setting down your coffee mug onto your nightstand's peeling surface. You had painted it black sometime during the depths your teenaged angst, and the paint had clearly not withstood the test of time.
Wrapping your hand around the plastic handset, you brought it to your ear.
"Guyi?"
"Hey, you're alive!" Her tone was pleasant and brought a smile to your face.
"Unfortunately." You chuckled, bringing a hand up to rub at one of your tired eyes. "Hey, about last night… I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have drunk so much. I'm so embarrassed you had to see me like that." 
You really were remorseful that you had caused such a scene. If you knew Guyi, she had spent most of her night running around, ensuring everyone was having a good time. You were ashamed to think she had been pulled away from her host duties to babysit your drunk self.
"Do you need any help cleaning up? I can come over." You continued, hand fiddling with the fabric of your pajamas shorts. Jeez, you didn't even remember changing into these.
"Aw, that's so considerate, but no, it's okay, I'm– Hey, put that down right now!"
You recoiled at her sudden exclaim, pulling the handset away from your ear. 
"Uh, is everything okay?" You mused, pausing to listen to the incoherent bickering on the other side of the line.
"Sorry about that." Guyi let out a sigh, finally returning back to the phone. "I'm babysitting."
"Damn. The kid is that bad?"
"Nary is a pretty cool kid. She usually just plays her games and tends to herself. She got her Gameboy taken away this week, though, and it seems that the lack of video games has transformed her from a human girl into a rampaging goblin." She grumbled.
"Put on Full House."
"You think?"
"I did my share of babysitting over the years, and nothing gets kids to shut up like Uncle Jesse. And if he doesn't do it for her, then Aunt Becky will." You offered, causing Guyi to chuckle.
"I'll try it. Anyway, don't worry too much about last night. I'm just happy to hear you made it home from Jimin's alright." She told you.
"Yeah... Yeah, I'm okay."
There was a pause on the line as if Guyi was contemplating her next words.
"You guys are cool, right?" She questioned hesitantly, immediately making your stomach drop. "I realize I should've double-checked before I let you go home with him."
Chewing on your bottom lip, you allowed yourself your own moment of contemplation.
"If I'm honest?" You began.
"Yeah?"
"Pretty sure he hates me." You emphasized into the phone's mic.
"What? There's no way."
"Can you blame him? Especially after last night?"
You laid your body back down across your bed, your mattress squeaking out under your sudden weight.
"Are you talking about the Yoongi thing? I heard about that. I don't think Jimin would hold that against you? I mean… I'm assuming you didn't know he was Jimin's ex."
"I most definitely did not." You confirmed.
Guyi hummed into the phone, "Besides, it's not like Jimin's hung up on Yoongi or anything."
"What do you mean?" 
You regretted your reply as soon as it left your mouth. You had no business prying into Jimin's love life. But, then again, you had never claimed to be a decent person.
"Well, I don't know the full story. I just know Jimin ended things out of nowhere over the phone, and Yoongi did not take it well. The two aren't on speaking terms."
At the new information, you sat up, immediately intrigued. You couldn't imagine Jimin ending a relationship in such an impersonal way. That didn't sound like him at all. Without fail, this was the guy who would cry every time the two of you watched The Fox and the Hound, which, admittedly, was probably more often than the average teenager.
"Oh." Was your impersonal response.
"Anyway, I'm glad to hear that you're alive. Let me know if you need anything. Let's have a girls' night and catch up sometime, okay?" She said.
A girl's night, huh. The idea excited you, despite the stern voice in the back of your head that reminded you that this was temporary. That getting attached to old faces would only hurt you, left behind once again after you inevitably left town.
A sinking feeling accompanied you, sat beside you on your rickety childhood bed.
"Definitely."
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You had just finished waddling over to the car when a shout of your name caught your attention. Whirling around, the blue plastic bags swung round with you, the smiley faces printed on them mimicked yours as you made eye contact with Hoseok.
You had spent this past week with your grandmother, helping her with all the repairs she had never gotten around to. With a freshly painted fence and a garden that deserved a spot on the next HG magazine issue, the house was looking more and more like you had left it. The next mission on your list was a deep carpet cleaning. You had just finished buying some carpet cleaner and a few other errands your Grams had asked for when you heard your neighbor's voice call for you.
Running past the frosted tip boy was a bright head of pink, vibrant locks swaying as she bounced your way.
You let out a surprised laugh as Gwen engulfed you in a hug, your arms pinned to your side under your groceries' weight.
"Hey, girl! I've been wondering where you've been. I haven't seen you since Guyi's party." She enthused, slipping her fingers around yours and prying some off the bags out your grip. You gave her a grateful smile, unlocking your grandmother's van's trunk, the two of you setting your bags down.
"I guess you could say I've been trying to keep a low profile." You admitted, slamming the trunk shut. "Last week was enough public embarrassment to last me a year."
The sound of a skateboard rolling in your direction came into earshot. Within seconds, Hoseok came into view, stopping his board without effort as he flashed you a sincere smile.
"How's it hangin', kid?" He greeted.
"Just running some errands for Grams. What are you guys doing here?" 
While your group certainly had their fair share of odd hangout spots, parking lots typically weren't one of them. Your childhood friend brought his board up with a quick motion of his foot, holding it to his side with a single hand. The side of your mouth quirked up in amusement, amused to see the underside of his board was covered with Lisa Frank stickers.
Flickering your eyes between Hobi and his girlfriend, you wondered briefly who was responsible for that creative decision.
"I'm trying to teach this one how to skate," Hobi explained, gesturing to his girlfriend, "Walmart's got a nice newly paved parking lot, plus it’s usually empty around this time of day."
"He's a terrible teacher." Gwen turned to you with a pout on her glossed lips.
Hoseok's eyes widened, clearly offended, "Baby, don’t even. I told you to wear sneakers!"
In unison, the three of you all glanced down toward's Gwen's feet, taking note of the sparkly pink jelly heels she was donning today.
"Just because I'm learning to skate doesn't mean I can't look good while doing it." Gwen reminded.
You couldn't help but laugh. Indeed, she had gone all out, blue eyeliner and butterfly clips in tow as she glanced back at her skater boyfriend.
"This is the part where you tell me that I'm beautiful no matter what I wear." She deadpanned.
Hoseok stood there dumbly, staring back at his girlfriend as if he was still processing what she had said.
"Huh? Oh, yeah... Baby, you're beaut—"
"Oh, save it." She cut him off disinterestedly, turning back to you instead. "Men are such a pain."
You found yourself nodding back immediately, "Definitely more work than they're worth."
"I am... standing right here." Hoseok reminded.
"Hey, what are you doing this weekend?" Gwen ignored the disgruntled man.
Tucking a hand into the front pocket of your jeans, you shrugged.
"I'm not sure yet. Why?"
"The bonfire is this Friday. Hobi was gonna drive us, you should totally come with!" She suggested.
"Bonfire?"
"Oh, right." Gwen suddenly realized that the tradition started in the years after your disappearance and you probably didn’t know about it. "Someone throws one every first Friday of the month."
You nodded interestedly, "Where is it?"
"Do you remember Old Man Carswell?” Hoseok piped up suddenly. Your eyes widened in disbelief, haven't had heard that name in ages.
"He's still alive?!" You gaped.
"Oh, no, no, dead as a doornail." He reassured with a nonchalant laugh. "But he left his property to his estranged son who never once showed up to claim it. We use his backyard for bonfires."
"Oh, sick."
Gwen clapped her hands together excitedly, "Yeah, it's always lots of fun! There's also a tradition where you can bring something to throw into the pit if you want. So if something has been wigging you out, like a letter from an ex or bad report card... into the fire it goes!"
"There's always drinks and music if you don't care about that corny shit." Hoseok shrugged.
You let the idea sit for a moment. Attending another gathering wasn't exactly keeping a low profile like you had promised yourself you would. 
Also, you're assuming there was a high probability that Jimin would go too. As much as your sad pining heart longed to see him again, the very last thing you wanted to do was cause him more trouble than you already had.
"I dunno…" You rubbed your ankle against your calf nervously.
Gwen bumped her hip into yours reassuringly.
"You sure? Someone calls the cops on us every time, you won't wanna miss it." She wiggled her brows.
"C'mon, kid. Come hang out with us misfits. For old times sake." Hobi said.
You glanced between the two rays of sunshine anxiously, the urge to say yes prickling at your throat.
Would it really be okay? Sure, you'd probably run into Jimin again, but surely nothing would go astray this time if you stayed by Hobi and Gwen and avoided any mint-haired boys.
Right?
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You felt misplaced. Even more so than at Guyi's party.
Hovering by Hoseok and his girlfriend, you wrapped your arms around your chest, not sure if the nip of the night or your nerves were the cause for your shivering.
The three of you had arrived at the bonfire just minutes ago. Still, already you had begun to rethink your decision in accepting the invitation. The green yard seemed to stretch for miles in the dark, the floor illuminated only as far as the light of the large bonfire's flames could reach.
A few people carried handheld lanterns, chatting amongst themselves happily as their shadows bent around them, dancing around the light source.
So many faces you recognized, yet so little people you knew. Any and all common ground you had with these people fading away with the years kept apart. You swallowed down your discomfort, ignoring the way everyone's eyes flickered onto you now and again. Maybe it was your lasting impression at Guyi's party or maybe the fact that there was a fire involved; whatever it was, it made you feel dizzy, and though you tried your best to hold up conversations, you eventually had to sneak off, needing a moment to yourself.
Standing across the wide pit of fire, you stared into it quietly, the hues of its flames painting your skin and the faces of those around you.
Truth be told, you were tired. The kind of tired that didn't seem to let up, no matter how many hours of sleep you got. The kind of tired that came from every second you spent stopping yourself from letting your mind wander to the darkest memory you had of this town.
You didn't know how hard it would be, how you could busy yourself with things to do when suddenly, a certain street sign could come into view, and memories came crashing in.
Your time back here was limited, and every day that passed had you wondering whether or not it was time to head back.
"Hey."
The sudden voice made you jerk slightly, whirling around in alarm to find that a familiar figure had somehow snuck beside you, his head peering down at the massive fire pit. Your shoulders shrunk into themselves involuntarily, embarrassment prickling at your cheeks as you took Jimin in.
He had on the leather jacket you had bought him years ago; butterflies fluttered in your stomach to know he still wore it after all these years.
"Oh, hi. Hey." You sputtered back nervously, not knowing how on earth you were meant to face him sober.
"Long time, no see." He turned his head towards you, sending your eyes the other direction.
"Y-Yeah. Um… thanks again for that night. That was really kind of you, with all things considering…"
He shrugged. "So, you're back."
Your fingers found the fabric of your sweater, picking at the fleece nervously.
"Not permanently, but yeah... I'm back."
"How is it? Being back, I mean?" He asked delicately, making your stomach flip.
"Everyone keeps looking at me like I'm going to burst into tears any second now." You answered honestly, surprising the two of you.
You had no idea why you were telling him this. It would've been easier to lie and say it was fine– that everything was okay. But Jimin was your person. He was the one who could get you to open up when no one else could, knowing how to make you feel better.
Perhaps old habits died hard.
He raised a brow, "And are you?"
You smiled, shaking your head.
"No." You breathed, watching your breath fan out into the night sky. "No, I don't cry anymore. Not for a long while, at least."
Jimin watched you for a second, taking in the way you curled into yourself, hands reaching out towards the fire in an attempt to warm them. The night had grown unusually nippy, and you clearly weren't dressed for the occasion with your ripped jeans and a thin sweater.
And with a soft rustle of fabric, he slipped himself out of the large jacket and draped it over your shoulders, making your eyes go round.
"You'll catch a cold." Was his only explanation, turning towards the fire to avert your shell shocked expression.
You could only nod dumbly, stunned into silence as you fought back your clamoring heart that was trying to pound its way out of your chest.
With the fire's light, you could just barely make out a pink hue in his cheeks, his hand coming up to run through his hair.
"It's beautiful."
Jimin turned to you in surprise, only to find you admiring the dancing flames in front of you.
"In a wicked sort of way. Alluring really. Kind of makes you want to sit and watch as it burns anything that gets too close." You elaborate further, pulling the jacket closer around your frame.
Jimin considered your words carefully, gaze locked on your profile, "I know the feeling."
"Alright, you dirty misfits, gather round. It's time for the sacrificial seance to begin."
A round of laughter brought yours and Jimin's attention back onto the rest of the crowd, finding humor in Hoseok's words.
"What's happening?"
"The burning tradition."
The two of you made your way over to the rest of the bonfire attendees, the shared moment between you long forgotten between excited shrieks and mindless chatter.
Everyone seemed the gather around Hoseok, whose chest was puffed out comically as he held his arms out wide beside him, grabbing everyone's attention with a loud 'Attention!'
"As you know, fellow coven members, we are on sacred ground. The very earth we are standing on is potent with energy, strange and powerful—"
"Cut the bullshit, Hobi! We're freezing our asses off here!" A random attendee interrupted, making you chuckle.
"Alright, alright! You already know what the fuck goes on, talk your shit and throw it in." Hoseok rolled his eyes, reaching over to pick up a container of lighter fluid, pouring some into the pit.
"Back it up!"
The crowd exclaimed as the fire grew with a roar, a few cheers ringing out in good spirits.
"Whose first?"
"I'll go!"
You looked over at the volunteer to see Guyi emerging towards the front, her dark bangs pushed out of her face for once by a pretty white headband.
"I brought my chemistry notebook. My first ever C." Guyi frowned, holding it out as if to show everyone.
"Throw it in!" Jungkook hollered from somewhere in the back, which Hoseok repeated.
The paper notebook was thrown into the blaze, landing with a soft thud onto the pile of wood and previously discarded miscellaneous items that had been burnt past the point of recognition.
"Fuck Chem!" Hobi called out jubilantly, punching a fist into the air enthusiastically.
"Fuck Chem!" Many chimed in with their own shouts.
You watched in amusement as everyone got rid of their items one by one, followed by joyous hoots and hollers that always sent the group giggling.
Bad grades, speeding tickets, pictures of an ex, birthday cards from shitty relatives— nothing survived the scorching kiss of the fire pit's mouth.
You could see the symbolism in it. No matter how big the problem seemed, once you threw it in, it was nothing more than fuel for the fire, indistinguishable come daylight.
"Y/N?"
"Hm?" You heard Gwen call your name.
"Got anything to burn?" She smiled.
Suddenly, the card in your pocket felt heavy. You had completely forgotten all about your object, too caught up in the good atmosphere.
"Oh, um, I didn't bring anything." You lied.
"Bullshit, I saw you shove something in your back pocket when I picked you up." Hoseok was quick to call out your bluff, throwing an arm around Gwen's shoulders.
"I, uh..."
Jimin watched you with interest, recognizing the way your body had become tense as if uncomfortable.
"I know it feels silly, but it's all in good fun. Give it a shot. We don't judge." The pink-haired girl reassured.
"And how!" Hobi confirmed enthusiastically.
Pressing your lips together, you pulled the card from the pockets of your jeans, holding it between your two hands tightly as you made your way over to the edge of the fire.
The card caved under your grip, fingers pressing into the material to prevent them from trembling. You cleared your throat.
"It's a leftover invitation to my parents' funeral. I found it in the drawer of my nightstand." You said.
You could hear the silence behind you as you threw it in, the blaze beginning to consume the memoir before it could even hit the ground.
Turning back towards everyone, you fought back the tight feeling in your chest, feeling small under everyone's stares. No one said anything, no one wanting to be the first to break the silence that was irrevocably yours.
The usual urge to run away, to up and leave, to never see another familiar face, crawled back into the back of your head. It was never far from you really; you pushed it away most of the time, but it was moments like these, where every pair of eyes you met offered their condolences, that you feared you wouldn't be able to push it back any longer.
Suddenly, Jimin stepped forward, his hands coming up to cup around the sides of his mouth.
"Fuck funerals!" He shouted unexpectedly, taking you by surprise.
Your eyes met his; he offered you a soundless nod, knowing exactly what you were saying without you needing to say a word.
"Yeah, fuck funerals!" Hobi's voice rang out in agreement.
"Fuck funerals!"
Time stood still.
You watched in what felt like slow motion as everyone joined in, smiles wide and middle fingers finding the air, and for the first time since you got here, standing among your old friends and peers, you felt at home.
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"Y/N!"
Your conversation with Guyi came to a halt, the both of you looking over to where Hoseok was waving you over.
Smiling at your old friend, you excused yourself, walking over to where Hoseok and Gwen stood, flashlights in hand.
"What's up?" You greeted as you reached the couple.
"You up for some ghost hunting, kid?" Hobi's eyebrows wiggled mischievously.
"What? Where?" You furrowed your brows, a confused grin finding its way onto your face.
You watched as he held an arm out, the stream of his flashlight stretching over to point at the abandoned home of the late Mr. Carswell. Your grin fell abruptly.
"Are you insane? You want the three of us to break into his house?" You gawked in disbelief.
"Hm… You're right." Hoseok tapped a finger to his chin as if to feign contemplation. He turned away from you suddenly. "Yo, Jimin!"
You watched in horror as the man in question, who had been chatting with other friends up until now, turned towards you three, an eyebrow raised as he urged the skater boy to continue.
"We're going ghostbusting, you in or what?"
Jimin turned back to the group he was with, exchanging a few words before moving to jog over.
"Now it's the four of us. Great thinking, Y/N." Hoseok winked, leaving you flustered.
You bit back your protest, flashing Jimin an awkward smile as he reached the group. Hoseok threw one of the flashlights over to him, which he caught easily, spinning it around in his palm.
"Let's do this thing."
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"This feels so wrong." You fiddled with your fingers nervously, watching as the two boys pried back a boarded up window, the four of you hidden by the thick brush of the house's unkempt garden.
"Dude, you used to love this kind of shit." Hoseok reminded as the wooden barrier detached itself, placing it down on the floor with your ex-boyfriend's help.
Jimin let out a laugh, wiping his hand onto the back of his jeans, "C'mon, bug, live a little. Be spontaneous."
You bit the inside of your cheek, turning away from Jimin as you tried your hardest to ignore the way his old nickname for you had suddenly resurface.
"I'm plenty spontaneous! Moving from city to city, taking up all kinds of jobs – what kind of non-spontaneous person does that?" You puffed your cheeks out, eager to defend your reputation.
"So?"
"So, breaking and entering is a crime, and if I get arrested, Grams will actually cut me up into little pieces and bake me into an apple pie!" You huffed.
"Man, gotta love Elvie's apple pie." Hoseok reminisced to himself, rubbing at his stomach appreciatively.
You frowned as the two boys climbed through the window and into the old, large house.
"I wouldn't worry about getting arrested," Gwen reassured you as she followed after, Hoseok helping her through from the inside. She landed inside gracefully, flipping her pink hair over her shoulder prettily.
Hoseok leaned over and rested an elbow on the window sill, looking at you expectantly.
"Gwen's old man is the sheriff." He told you. You merely glared at him as he puffed out his collar. "That's right, I scored me a girl with benefits."
You didn't need to see behind Hoseok to know it had been Gwen to cause him to groan out in pain, rubbing at his upper arm with a pout.
Begrudgingly, you let the cheeky boy help you in, a cloud of dust spreading out underneath your feet as you dropped onto the old hardwood floor.
You were surprised to find the house in perfect condition – if it weren't for the doors and windows being boarded up, you might have thought you just broke into someone's still inhabited home. Of course, there was dirt and the odd food wrapper or two on the floor, undoubtedly from other people who had dared to venture in.
Sure, there were stains on the ceiling and paint cracks on the walls, but it was hardly worse than your Grams' place before you got around to repairs.
"Remember, gang, don't touch anything, leave no evidence we were here, and whatever you do… don't cross the streams!" Hoseok clicked the flashlight on, holding it up underneath his chin, illuminated his face creepily.
You rolled your eyes at the Ghostbusters reference, but crossed your arms over your chest regardless, not wanting to accidentally brush a hand against something.
The living room's furniture was bulky and dated, clearly showing Mr. Carswell's age; he was well into his nineties at the time of his passing.
"Hello? Old Man Carswell? You still in here, bud?" Hoseok called out jokingly, kicking at a discarded beer can. It rolled across the large living room and out of sight, the range of the flashlight only stretching out so far.
"Oh god, you're gonna piss him off." You hissed.
"I'm with Y/N on this one. Don't go angering the spirits." Gwen nodded, hands wrapped around Hoseok's previously ailed bicep.
"He was cranky," Jimin recalled.
Memories of Mr. Carswell waving around his wooden cane at you and your friends as he chased you off his yard resurfaced suddenly. Given, there were only so many times you could ding dong ditch a man before he eventually got annoyed. But still, he was notoriously callous, refusing to participate in neighborhood events such as house to house trick-or-treating or Christmas decorating. It didn't surprise you that his kids wanted nothing to do with him.
"Don't worry, baby, I'll protect you." Hoseok flexed his unoccupied arm, causing his girlfriend to scoff.
"You? You start screaming bloody murder if you even hear a bee."
"Hey! Don't you remember the movie My Girl?" Hobi was quick to quip back. "Death via bees is a very real thing–"
"You're not even allergic to bees." You mused.
"–ghosts, however... not real." He concluded.
You rolled your eyes, "Says you."
The four of you pushed past the dark living room into what seemed to be yet another living space, this one less performative and more intimate, a boarded-up fireplace catching your interest.
This room must have been so cozy in the wintertime, you noted. What a shame he lived by himself, spending each day alone in this beautiful home.
Hoseok let out a hum, rolling the flashlight over the wall's crown molding, "This is kind of fun. We're like Mystery Inc… ya know, minus Scooby."
Jimin and Gwen were looking over at a pair of loafers that had been left by the couch when a faint shuffling sound suddenly rang out, causing Hoseok and you to look over at each other.
"Scooby?" Hobi gasped jokingly.
"What was that?" You worried, body growing cold.
"What was what?" Jimin asked.
"I didn't hear anything?" Gwen cocked her head.
Their lack of concern only set you more on edge.
"You guys are fucking with me, right? Hobi, you heard it, right?" You turned towards the lanky boy, who was rubbing at his chin.
Hoseok met his girlfriend's eyes before flashing her a quick wink, "Well, gang, it looks like we got another mystery on our hands. Let's split up!"
"Huh?" You gaped.
"Oh, I see." Gwen smirked, walking over towards the awaiting man. "Sure, let's split up."
"Gwen and I are going to go fool around– I mean, investigate on the basement floor." Hoseok recovered quickly with a cough. Gwen giggled, linking her arms with her boyfriend, pressing a suggestive kiss onto his jaw.
"This was your plan all along, wasn't it? You nymphos..." Jimin accused through a grin.
"We needed people to keep watch just in case." Hobi confessed through a shrug, already leading his girlfriend towards the basement stairs. "If we're not done in an hour, send help."
"Gross." You scrunched your nose. "Keep it down or else!"
The adventurous couple waved you off, heading towards the set of stairs that led downstairs that you had all passed by earlier.
"They're a cute couple." You sighed, shaking your head.
"We were cuter." Jimin shrugged, and you nearly choked on your saliva.
He noticed your stunned reaction, of course, smiling at you lazily, "It was a joke."
You fought down your blush, nodding as the two of you continued exploring, making your way into the kitchen. Unlike the other room you had come across, this one was a mess, the sink full of dirty dishes that had gone untouched all this time. The room's wallpaper was incredibly antiquated, not to mention the appliances themselves must have been from the 60s.
"Jeez, could use a bit of renovating, huh?"
You hummed, stepping back to take the whole room in. The house really was stunning; you could easily imagine what the house might be like with a large family living in it.
"What do you think, honey? I was thinking a bright, fun backsplash for the kitchen. New appliances and maybe a chalk wall for the kids." You closed an eye, peering at the state of the room through a frame you had formed with your fingers.
You looked over at Jimin, who was staring at you like you had grown two heads, making you chuckle.
"It was a joke." You quoted him, a small grin on your lips. Understanding fell over him, grinning back.
"Honestly, if things didn't pan out the way they did, I could've seen us living here."
Despite the weight of what he was saying, you found yourself nodding. Perhaps, if you could be more honest with yourself, you would've told him you had imagined the same thing. A world where you had never left. Where your parents had never died.
"No way we could've afforded it, though."
"In my head, I imagine us living at Grams until we saved enough money. Man, I'd have a field day with this place." Jimin continued, fingers grazing against the wooden breakfast table.
"You do love your DIY projects." You recalled.
"Jihoon and I were always building shit." He reminisced quietly. "He'd love this place."
At the mention of Jimin's late brother, your expression softened. Jimin had made peace with his brother's death early on – he was honest with himself and his feelings, understanding that he was allowed to grieve and heal from the pain. You were happy he had healed from his brother's death in a healthy way. You wouldn't wish your unsettled emotional baggage on anyone, much less Jimin.
"He'd try to convince me to knock walls down and open up the space."
"And my parents would yell at us for listening to him, saying that removing rooms lowered property value." You mused, enjoy the pretend narrative the two of you were diving into.
"Screw property value, our kids would've loved it. They would be so happy here. We'd have to beg them to go to sleep – the house always filled with their tiny screams and laughter." Jimin tucked a hand into his front pocket.
You found yourself moving closer to him, purely out of habit.
"3 kids." You said.
"Two boys and one girl." Jimin spoke.
"And she's the youngest." You finished the fantasy with a somber sigh.
For an elongated moment, the two exes held each other's eyes, wondering how a future that seemed so clear managed to fall through their fingers. Jihoon was dead, as were your parents, and you and Jimin were still miles apart, despite your current close proximity.
He cleared his throat.
"So, you've been hopping from city to city, huh? How was that?"
You are thankful for the change of subject, the mood growing heavy at the mention of the children you two would never have.
"Overwhelming? Exhilarating? Scary? Wonderful?" You couldn't decide on the right adjective. "Not knowing where I'd sleep some nights or if I would be able to find work. But then finding a job and meeting all these different people from different walks of life."
"It's funny because I'd be waitressing and have the same customer come in at the same time every day, order the same crappy dish, and just went I'd feel like I knew them, they'd just disappear. No goodbye, no heads up that they were leaving. But that's just city life. Everything somehow always new, and nothing is promised. And if things start to get too familiar, you can just leave. And no one asks questions."
Here one day, gone the next. It was funny how the very idea that people could disappear without warning drove you from this town and into the arms of places where you would experience it repeatedly, only this time without getting hurt.
"It's wonderful." You finished decidedly.
Even in the dark room, your eyes were shining. Jimin was mesmerized– mesmerized by how you could find such comfort in what seemed to him an impossible way of life.
"It sounds like you're happy." He noted.
"I am." A soft smile grazed your mouth.
"So then, why come back?"
He sounded flippant, but you knew his question was genuine. You knew because it was the very question you had been asking yourself the entire bus ride home.
It was hard to say, exactly.
You were sat in a park in Detroit, chomping down on your Reuben sandwich when a family caught your eye. Two kids, two parents, two grandparents – a happy little nucleus sat and having a family picnic.
For a moment, you wondered what that might be like; a family, a familiar face that you could always count on, that loved you no matter what.
Your sandwich fell to your lap, hands suddenly growing cold, tears pooling down your cheek.
You had forgotten.
You had a family, and you had forgotten. You had a grandmother that loved you and people you loved, that knew you through every stage of your life. Through your hazy gaze, you watched as the woman and her partner shared a kiss, fingers interlocked happily.
Thoughts of a certain puffy cheeked boy ambushed you, making you get up from the park bench and head towards the nearest bus station.
"I don't know. It just felt like the right time, I guess." You answered with half sincerity. "I knew I had to make amends with Grams eventually. Maybe I just wanted that closure."
If Jimin had any further questions, they were swallowed down as a clattering sound rang out above your heads.
"Okay, there's no way you didn't hear that." Your eyes were round, flicking up towards the ceiling.
"What the hell was that?"
You let out a breath of relief, happy to know you weren’t the only one hearing things, although it did nothing to relieve your nerves. "I think it came from upstairs?"
Your ex-boyfriend let out a contemplative hum. You followed as he made his way out of the kitchen, flashlight flickering from room to room until he found a flight of stairs leading upwards.
There was absolutely no light at the top of them, making it impossible to make out what was waiting at the top.
"Let's go."
"What? Fuck no!" You protested, taking a subconscious step back.
Jimin clicked his tongue at you disapprovingly. "Carswell's dead. What's the worst he can do? Flicker the lights?"
You panicked as he began to head towards the first step.
"Well," you grabbed onto his shirt, stilling his motions, "what if he's not?"
"What if he's not what?"
"Like... what if he's not really dead? What if he just pretended to die to see how many people would show up to his funeral or something? Maybe he knew people would use his property for neighborhood parties. Maybe he knew that two idiots would break into his house in search of his supposed spirit only to run into his real person where he's waiting for them with a rifle!"
Jimin blinked.
"What the hell goes on in those cities?" He stared at you incredulously.
Another sound sent you into the air, grip tightening around the fabric of Jimin's shirt.
"Well. You can either come upstairs with me or stay down here. Alone." He shrugged.
Alone? Your eyes fell onto the flashlight in his hand, realizing that if he went, so did it.
"Or you could go down to the basement. I'm sure Gwen and Hobi wouldn't mind an extra hand." He smirked. "Your choice."
You would've glared at him if you weren't scared out of your mind.
Cursing internally, you made your way up the stairs beside him, fingers never letting go of his shirt.
The second floor was bigger than you were expecting, Jimin and you passing several bedrooms as you trudged on. Far too many bedrooms for a man who lived alone. He must have been so lonely.
Stumbling upon the master bedroom, you peered into it cautiously.
Your eyes followed the flashlight around the room, marveling at it. The bed was large, and its dark, thick frame matched the damask upholstery, giving the room a regal yet homey feeling.
"It's kind of nice–"
"Shh." Jimin cut you off immediately, ears picking up on something that you couldn't.
"What is it?" You breathed out, voice barely above a whisper.
You watched as he made his way into the room, a palm held out towards you in a gesture that told you to stay put.
Not that you had to be told twice.
"It sounds like... scratching..." His head cocked.
Closing his eyes, he focused for a moment. Suddenly, his eyes flew open.
"It's coming from inside the closet."
"Jimin? Let's just go, please!" You hissed, beckoning him back over to where you stood by the doorway.
You bit down on your lip as you watched him make his way over to the closet door, fingers wrapping delicately around the handle before swinging it open, hiding his frame from your view.
"Oh shit!"
Fear shot through you at his exclaim, and before you knew what you were doing, you grabbed hold of the bedside lamp's lampshade, yanking it from its place.
"Jimin?!" You panicked.
"Yeah, I'm– Woah, what's with the lampshade?" The man in question emerged back out from the closet, eyeing your makeshift weapon curiously.
"What is it? A ghost? A dead body?!" You pressed, adrenaline still rushing through you.
"A rat!" He scrunched his face up in disgust. "Fuck, that thing was huge. It crawled back into the wall."
You let out a sigh of relief, dropping the lampshade from its baseball stance over your shoulder.
"What were you gonna do with that thing?" He looked amused.
"I don't know! Something! I just... thought you were in trouble..." You defended, suddenly growing shy.
Looking down at your feet, you felt silly. You didn't even think to grab the actual lamp in your haste. Your lampshade, much like you, would be useless against any sort of actual threat.
You were too caught up in your embarrassment to see the way Jimin was looking down at you with a tender expression, cheeks pink, and ears flushed.
He reached for the lampshade in your hands, fingers laying across yours. You looked up at him in surprise at his touch, mind reeling as he merely held on, the heat of his fingers buzzing against yours.
"You don't have to worry when you're with me. I'd never let anything happen to you." Sincerity burned across his stare, leaving you speechless.
All you could do was look away, letting out a silent breath when he finally took the lampshade from you, walking to put it back into place. The familiar need to flee found you once again, and you crossed your arms across your chest, pressing your way into the room's bathroom for a moment to collect yourself.
What was that? Were you making something out of nothing, or did that look he gave you mean something? You felt foolish for even entertaining the thought, but the way your heart was pounding in your chest was trying its hardest to convince you otherwise. Your reflection was taunting you. Dim and honest, you saw the way hope glimmered across your face – selfishly relishing in the intimate moment you and Jimin had just shared.
"I think about that night a lot."
You whirled around at the sound of his voice, finding him leaning into the doorframe, eyes running over the bathroom space. His eyes found you suddenly.
"The night before you left."
He didn't have to explain any further. You already knew exactly what he was referring to— the night before you disappeared and left him. There was nothing out of the ordinary that night. You had gotten over Jimin’s to spend the night, the night filled with alcohol, pizza, and shared kisses. Kisses that weighted you down the next night as you packed your bags and left town.
His brows furrowed, "I used to think... if I hadn't gotten so drunk–"
"Jimin, don't." You frowned.
"If I was paying more attention… would have I known you were pulling away? Could I have said something to make you stay?"
He sounded so vulnerable, so hurt, and you ached. You ached to know you were responsible.
You shook your head furiously, "It wasn't like that. Hopping on that bus… I didn't even know where I was going or what I was doing."
Fingers fiddling with each other, you lost the ability to face him, focusing on your trembling digits instead.
"It wasn't you. It was never you. You're perfect, Minnie." You swallowed. "I love… I loved you. So much."
Of course, you still loved him, but standing in the dim bathroom of a dead neighbor, you lost all nerve. You felt pathetic, a poor excuse for a human, finally facing the wreckage of the damage you had created.
"Bug."
Brows furrowing, you faced him once again. His dark eyes merged with the dark room, holding yours intensely.
"Kiss me."
Your stomach flipped at his words.
"What?"
Any response he might have had to your question of disbelief went interrupted by a loud clang. In your shock, you had stepped back into the bathroom counter, your elbow knocking something into the sink.
You turned around with a hiss, muttering nervously as you reached for the fallen object — a rusty old can of glass cleaner — and placed it back into its standing position.
You kept your eyes low and locked on the spotty silver of the sink faucet, face growing a million degrees warmer as you felt Jimin step closer behind you, trapping you in place.
"Are you okay?" He asked.
Summoning your courage, you let yourself peer up at the mirror, fawning as you saw his head poking over your shoulder, looking down at the sink in genuine concern.
His eyes flickered over to yours suddenly, his reflection just as handsome as his real-life self.
Your gaze fell back onto the sink, your nerve leaving you.
"I'm fine... I just think–"
"Then don't. Don't think."
He was so close, his hot breath pressed ghost kisses against the shell of your ear, daring you to comply with his request. Your hand reached out and clung onto the cool tile of the counter, knuckles turning white as you tried to ground yourself.
From this proximity, all you could smell was him, his familiar aroma silencing your rampant thoughts.
"I miss you." He confessed suddenly, an immeasurable amount of melancholy on his tongue.
Your heart felt like it was being torn in two different directions, one side rejoicing in his sudden spout of honesty, and the other whispering that you didn't deserve this, you didn't deserve the man you loved telling you that he still cared about you.
Swallowing, you turned to him, pupils dilating as you took in how close his face was to yours in this position.
"I never stopped thinking about you. No matter where I was or who I was with." He continued, his eyes running across your face, gauging your reaction silently.
You were holding back, he could see it in the way your expression was pained, yet your body subconsciously leaned closer. Something was keeping you from acting out on your shared desires.
"I don't want to hurt you again." You grieved, sorrow painting your woeful words.
"I don't need forever. Just right now. That's all I ask." His breath was warm against your lips, just a phantom of a kiss as his bottom lip grazed yours.
Your hands moved before you could stop them, wrapping around his neck in a way you had done a million times, yet still felt painfully new. His hand was on your waist, pressing you into him like he was only a half, becoming whole with you by his side again.
You loved him. You loved him so much it hurt. You had taken so much from him, and yet here he was, offering himself to you once more.
And like the selfish human you were you took from him again, mouth colliding with his.
The softness of his lips left you breathless, arms tightening as you desperately wanted him closer – closer than your bones would allow. You craved his warmth, tears finding the sides of your eyes as your tongues crashed against one another.
You preened into his mouth, missing his taste and the way he always kissed you like you were something sweet.
You were pliant under his touch, letting him lead you back towards the bed, pushing you down onto it with a small sigh. He couldn't get enough of the way you look lying out underneath him, eyes wide and pleading as your hands reached out, needy for him and him alone.
And of course, he complied, tugging his shirt off in one quick motion before crawling back over you, kissing you like the kiss had never broken. You could feel yourself getting lost between the heavy breaths and heavy petting, head dizzy as he sucked bruises into your neck, fingers sneaking up your shirt, pushing their way underneath the cup of your bra.
You threw your head back as his fingers touched the delicate skin of your breast, fondling them gently. You let him pull your shirt and bra off without any protest, only asking that he keep touching you, losing yourself in the way he'd rolled his hips into yours, small grunts leaving his perfect lips.
Jimin sat up suddenly, flashing you a smile as he began to unbuckle his belt. And then, out of nowhere, a small thought of doubt crept into your mind, sat in the sidelines as you watched Jimin strip himself down into nothing but underwear.
It was like you only just now realized what was happening, what you were about to do, a wave of nausea washing over you.
You accepted Jimin's kiss silently, mind elsewhere as you tried your hardest to kiss him back like he wasn't the boy who had had his heart broken by you.
You were gonna mess this up. You know you were. You didn't deserve Jimin. He deserved so much better than this.
"Y/N?" Jimin broke the kiss suddenly.
"Hm?"
"Are you okay? You're shaking." He noted, fingers coming up to brush your hair out of your face.
You blinked back the tears that were collecting at the brim of your eyes.
"Do you want to stop?" His expression softened.
"N-No. I'm just..." You trailed off, unsure of how to continue.
Scared. Scared that if you went any further, someone would get hurt. Scared that you were just going to hurt Jimin again.
Then, Jimin's hands were intertwined with yours, pressing a kiss against your forehead.
"We don't have to do anything more. I don't want this if you don't." He cooed.
You were shaking your head before he could finish his sentence, your desires outweighing your insecurities.
"I do! I want this. I want you." You promised, cheeks burning.
You let out a sigh as he nodded, lips pressing down your chest, slowly making their way down your body. Your body was alight underneath him, every kiss driving you further into welcomed madness. Nearly rejoicing as his hands reached the button of your jeans, you helped him pry them off you.
A noise of surprise escaped you, however, when his mouth didn't find yours again but rather, your hips – fingers playing with the hem of your underwear.
"Minnie?" You ran your fingers along your thighs, excitement flooding you.
There were many parts of Jimin that you missed. Admittedly, his tongue had to be one of the parts you thought back on the most.
A shaky breath left you as he pried your thighs open, positioning them in a way that kept them apart, as if on display for him.
"Pretty." He cooed, admiring the arousal that already showed itself on your underwear. "Can I?"
"Please!"
He snickered at your enthusiasm, pushing past your underwear as he slid a finger into you. Your toes curled at the feeling, fingers gripping at the outsides of your thighs for purchase before ultimately deciding on the duvet underneath you. One finger turned into two, your velvety walls taking to him quickly as he pressed a kiss against the flesh of your inner thigh, fingering you as he adjusted himself to lie on his stomach, making yours flutter.
He leaned forward, tongue pressing flat against you, making your eyes flutter shut.
"Jimin, fuck." The words came to you as you forced your eyes back open, gaze fixated on him and his spot between your legs.
Your jaw fell slack as you watched his tongue run back up, meeting your clit with the tip of his sinful tongue, sparing you no mercy as he rolled it around the hot muscle. He kept his eyes on you as he devoured you, the way your voice cracked mid moan spurring him on further.
You were a shaking wreck, hips desperate to get off on his mouth, meeting the curl of his fingers until you were trembling, clenched tight around him as he sucked at your swollen bud.
"You look so pretty like this." He praised suddenly, biting your thigh as his fingers rocked into you harder.
You whimpered back at him, a tingling sensation telling you you were seconds away from reaching your climax. His fingers kept his pace, mouth moving over towards your clit once more, one hand moving to hold your abdomen still as he flicked the tip of his tongue across it lightly.
"M-Minnie."
"It's okay, baby. Come for me."
A broken moan fell from you as your back arched suddenly, small jerks of your hips letting him know you were cumming.
He cursed, continuing his torment against your pussy, letting you ride out your orgasm before you were pushing his head off of you.
You had barely caught your breath before he was kissing you again, not that you minded at all. You felt so sensitive as he rocked his clothed erection against you, making you shutter.
"Fuck me." You said the moment the kiss broke.
"Yeah? You sure?" He asked.
You nearly pouted in frustration. You had never been more sure of something in your life.
"Please, I can't wait any longer."
Jimin chuckled, pressing a wet kiss onto your collar bone. "So honest. So cute. Such a good girl."
You let out a groan as he pushed your panties to the side, the head of his cock pressing past your still sensitive pussy, words of encouragement leaving his lips as he buried himself into you.
A soft whine escaped into the room, your brows furrowed slightly as he rocked in and out experimentally.
"That okay?"
"Ah, so good. Keep going." You begged.
"Fuuuck." He dragged the word out, teeth digging into his plush bottom lip as he took in the state of you. You were staring down at where the two of you met, a lewd expression on that pretty face of yours as you kneaded at one of your breasts, mouth slightly ajar as you let out a soft groan.
You brought your hips up to meet his, head falling back as he reciprocated your motions, bottoming out and keeping still, your cunt stuffed with him.
"Did you miss my cock, angel?"
"Mm, yes." You whimpered pitifully, relishing at the sight of Jimin inside and on top of you once again.
"I missed this. Haven't gotten to touch you in so long." He sighed, gripping your hips as he repositioned himself, the new position making it easier to thrust into you, rolling into you slowly before quickening his pace, only to repeat the cycle again, as if simply enjoying the way you felt and the noises you made.
Heat found your stomach, his words, and actions stirring up your insides.
"You can touch yourself if you want, baby. Play with your little clit for me."
You let out a whimper, hand moving to comply with your orders.
Jimin watched through dark eyes as your fingers found your hardened bud, your motions urging him to fuck into you harder – deeper. You could feel your arousal dripping down your thighs and onto the bed, his soft grunts arousing you in a way you didn't know moans could.
He was fucking you so good, you felt like you were going crazy, begging for him to kiss you before you completely lost your mind.
He complied, of course, wanting nothing more than to feel the way you would let him lap into your mouth, completely submissive underneath his touch.
He thrusted into you, moaning lowing – he could feel how close you were, the way your walls throbbed around his fat cock deliciously, like you wanted him to cum inside you. Like you wanted him to stuff you with his cum until you were left dripping and swollen.
He let out a low grunt.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." You cried, your fingers speeding up as you realized Jimin was close, his thrusts slowing down and stifled whimpers left him.
To your surprise, your orgasm rocked over you suddenly, leaving you shuddering and gasping for air as broken profanities filled the room, your wrecked cunt clenching around Jimin's cock.
"Shit, I'm gonna cum." He moaned out suddenly, hip stilling for fear that he might actually just cum inside you.
You were still hazy from your second orgasm, but you didn't have to think twice about your next works.
"Cum in my mouth."
Jimin cursed, pulling out of you carefully before gripping down on the base of his cock, abdomen flexing as he watched you flip yourself over, crawling over to him.
Lips wrapping around his pretty red tip, he pumped his cock furiously, fighting back the urge to grab the back of your head and fuck your mouth.
With one final swift circle of your tongue, he finally came, thick ropes of cum making its way down your throat.
He watched with pride as you swallowed it down like the good girl he remembered you to be.
"Let me see, baby." His voice was scratchy and low as he gripped your jaw, groaning as you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out obediently, showing him that you swallowed all of it.
"You're fucking incredible. I missed you."
"I missed you, too." You muttered shyly, for once being honest.
You let out a surprised giggle as he flopped down onto the bed, yanking you over to straddle over his lap.
Smiling, he pulled you in for a passionate kiss, for no other reason than that he wanted one.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" A familiar voice rang out.
"Oh my god!"
Jimin was quick to pivot you away from the door's view, grabbing a pillow and moving it to you as to protect your modesty from Hoseok and his girlfriend, who were peering in through the doorway.
"Look at you two getting jiggy with it!" Gwen laughed.
"Hello? Naked? Go away?" You emphasized, face alight.
Clutching the pillow over your bare torso, you watched as Jimin grabbed another one, chugging it at Hoseok's shit-eating grin.
"Beat it, you scrub!"
"You know," Hoseok mused, "when I said we were kicking it old school tonight, this wasn't quite what I meant."
"The only thing I'm kicking is your ass if you don't get the hell out!" You threatened, face ablaze.
"C'mon, babe, let's go. We're harshing the vibe." Gwen giggled, tugging at Hobi's arm.
"Y/N's got a ride home with you, I'm assuming?" The frosted tip man directed at the man underneath you.
Jimin nodded, somehow unfazed by the fact that he was sat completely naked under you. "Mhm, I got her."
"Yeah you do." Hoseok grinned suggestively.
"Out, please!"
You let out an exasperated huff as you watched the two voyeurs finally make their way out, resting your chin on the pillow you held, an embarrassed pout on your lips.
"That was so humiliating." You whined, causing Jimin to chuckle, arms coming to wrap around your waist.
"C'mon, it's not like they were doing any different downstairs." He attempted to reason. You ignored him, however, further burying yourself into the pillow.
"I can't believe Hoseok's seen my tits. I could actually just die." You stressed dramatically.
"If it makes you feel any better... they're a nice pair of tits." He hummed, fingers trailing up your sides.
Bringing up your pillow, you thwacked him with it, sending him into a round of giggles as he pressed kisses against your warm cheeks.
┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
Slipping into the familiar passenger seat of Jimin’s car, you let out a sigh.
A few rounds of fooling around later, Jimin and you slipped back out of the house only to find an empty backyard and extinguished bonfire, a trail of smoke disappearing into the night sky.
“Sorry I fucked you on a dead man’s bed.” He joked, putting the key into the ignition.
You smirked as the car engine roared to life, admiring the way Jimin’s arms flexed as he maneuvered the gearshift in reverse.
“I’ve had worse one night stands.” You shrugged.
“About that,” Jimin cleared his throat, pulling off the property and onto the main road, “... where exactly does this leave us?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what are we?” He continued, eyes purposely not meeting yours.
Silence fell over you, fingers intertwining on your laps as you considered his words. What answer was he looking from you?
“We are... friendly.”
“Friendly.” He repeated dryly.
Nerves suddenly overwhelming you, you let out an awkward laugh, “I mean, it’s not like we can go back to how things were before I left–”
“Well, why not?” He sounded serious, making your stomach churn.
“Jimin...”
“Why does anything have to change? You’re back. It can be us again.”
Suddenly, the space in his car was entirely too small. You swallowed back the urge to tell him to stop the car so that you could step out and hurl.
You weren’t back, though. Physically, you were here, but your heart was so far away from this place. If you were to get back together with Jimin… if you were to allow yourself to take his heart once again, only to leave it when you inevitably left town… you would never forgive yourself. Never.
“Minnie, I just... it can’t.”
You didn’t even fully believe in your own words, but you forced them out, no matter how badly it tore you inside. Here was the love of your life, offering himself to you one more time, and you were turning him down. You really were cruel.
“I’m sorry.” You muttered, noticing his change in mood. His eyes were fixated on the road, jaw tightened as he mulled over his response.
“Don’t be. I’m not going to force you back into a relationship if you don’t want to.”
It was such a polite response; you had expected nothing less from him, the sweet boy who used to carry your backpack between classes. But still, his words somehow cut deep. Of course, you wanted to. He just could never know.
“Okay.”
The next several moments passed by quietly, before Jimin reached over towards the radio with a sigh, the old thing turning back to life as he dialed with the knobs, settling on a Guns N’ Roses song.
Leaning back in your seat, you let your mind drift along to the guitar riff, the familiar tune reminding you of older times, where you and Jimin used to drive around for hours, nothing better to do in this small town than drive and scream along to rock music.
Jimin used to have a nylon CD binder, ‘filled with the best albums of all time’ as he once put it. You remembered flipping through it time after time, trying to decide which CD would fit that particular drive. Curiously, you popped open the glove compartment, wondering if he still had it.
“Whatcha looking for?” He glanced over at you, shuffling through the pile of random things he had shoved in there over the years.
“Your CDs.” You responded mindlessly, before something hard hit your finger, catching your attention enough to dig for it.
“What’s this?”
You pulled out a black cassette that had been floating around his glove compartment.
Jimin watched with widened eyes as the forgotten tape fell into your hands, your thumb running across the area where he had scribbled your name onto it messily years ago.
“Where did you find that?”
You were too busy noting the car pulling into the driveway of your grandmother’s home to notice the slight tremor to his words as if you had just ripped off the bandage to a wound that had yet to heal.
“Right here.” You gestured to the open glove box. “It was buried underneath all your shit. What is it?”
“It’s nothing.” He dismissed, tone void of emotion.
You let out a laugh, “Yeah, okay, except it’s not nothing because you wrote my name on it.”
Finally, you turned to look at the boy beside you, your smile fading as you took in the way his eyes had gone dull, shoulders low and heavy.
“It’s a playlist I made of all the songs that remind me of you.”
His words seemed to echo, your hand which held the cassette tape coming down to rest on your lap, fiddling with the object nervously.
“When did you make this?”
Your question was innocent enough but still weighed heavily on Jimin’s heart.
“I made it after you left. I didn’t think you’d come back and I…” He paused.
There was a sense of melancholy in the small enclosed space of his car, the kind that you would miss entirely if you weren’t paying attention— just a note of sorrow that had gotten forgotten up until now.
“You what?” You pressed. Jimin held your eyes for a silent beat before responding.
“I just didn’t want to forget you.”
You sat beside him idly as you felt your heart sink to your stomach, fingers going numb around the now cold metal cassette tape.
Was this it?
Was this the moment in which you two finally sat and talked honestly about what had happened? How you had left him, this entire town, without so much as a word. How you cried, and you thought of him the entire bus ride out. How you made a new home moving from city to city, letting strangers keep you company at night, only to hate yourself the next morning when you thought back at the kind, smiling boy you had left back home.
Somehow, you knew your answer. Yet, all the same, you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything.
A soft sigh beside you rang out in consequence, the wall that Jimin had built up once again dividing the two of you.
“Goodnight, Y/N.” He muttered, staring straight ahead.
Your shoulders sank, “Minnie-–”
“It’s late.”
He refused to meet your eyes — he couldn’t. He had words on his tongue that he was sure he wouldn’t be able to take back if he were to meet those beautiful eyes of yours.
For once, you didn’t want to leave. Looking at the hurt boy, you wanted to stay and say something to make things right.
But you didn’t. You couldn’t – not without saying everything that you still felt for him and giving him a false idea that he should have any faith in the two of you.
And as you slipped from the passenger seat and shut the car door, you felt a longing for him. Even as you made your way up the stairs and slipped into bed, you missed him.
Shutting your eyes, you could almost feel the way he would shift closer to you in your bed, pressing kisses onto your shoulder as he laughed at whatever stupid joke you had just made.
It was more than wishful thinking. It was a memory that now felt bittersweet, knowing that the boy who used to look at you like you were the sun could hardly look at you at all.
Sheets cold and crisp, you fell asleep to the sound of your loneliness.
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kimnjss · a month ago
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buzzer beater | myg
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⤑  series: cyberslut
⤑ pairing: jock(fuckboi)!yoongi x nerdy(virgin)!reader
⤑ genre: angst... and some fluff too!
⤑ rating: pg13
⤑ word count: 4.6K // unedited.
⤑ warnings: uhm(?) he tries to look up her skirt... but she kinda likes it lmao . oh! and bits of emotional constipation coming from min yoongi.
⤑ A/N: hii! let’s just get right into it - let me know what you think x don’t be a silent reader, please!! 
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MAY 1ST, 2021 | 19:57 The sound of the buzzer cuts through the crowd's chants. It's silent for a moment, the ball swishing into the net breaking through. Loud cheers erupt, shouts and cries shaking the gym, Yoongi's won the game with a buzzer beater. It has been neck and neck all night and just a few moments before time ran out, he was making a three-point shot – stealing the lead.
115 to 113. His shot takes them to 116 and just like that it's over. His entire body is buzzing with adrenaline. Pumped that he was able to win, excited to finally meet the girl who has been plaguing his thoughts for weeks. He just wanted to see her face, hear her moan... feel her soft touch. It's been too much of the wishing and fantasizing, he was a man of action after all.
Yoongi is only half interested in shaking hands with the opposing team to congratulate on a good game. His mind is reeling with plans and scenarios of when he's finally able to meet this girl. He doesn't even join in on the shit talk with Hoseok and Jungkook as they make their way to the locker room.
Hoseok had a plan to talk to one of the cheerleaders from the other school and Jungkook felt the need to challenge his abilities. Normally, this would be a topic Yoongi was all over, standing with either side just to make things more entertaining... but tonight he had different plans to keep himself entertained.
He doesn't rush out to see Hoseok crash and burn, instead, he takes his time with dressing. Paying close attention to his shower damp hair and the clothes he strategically picked out this morning. He wanted to look good. Fuckable. It's not until the locker room has died down that Yoongi is stepping out.
Deep breaths filling and exiting his chest as he makes his way under the bleachers, waiting patiently for you to arrive.
When you had agreed to join Taehyung to the game, the only thing on your mind was meeting Yoongi. Whether or not you thought it would e a good idea to reveal yourself and all the things he could say when he found out it was you.
You had dressed for the occasion, wanting to look nice in front of your crush. Spent a little longer taming your curls and found a dress that hugged the curves of your body nicely. You wanted to impress him, but walking through the gym doors you still hadn't decided if you'd meet him.
He's the first one you see when you're settling on the bleachers. Dark hair bounces as he jogs up and down the court, receiving a ball at the end of it to shoot. He does that until the game is starting.
Taehyung chats mindlessly beside you with Jimin. Ignoring the blatant flirting from the older man and keeping his focus on the players sprinting in front of him. He's doing it on purpose, not dim when it comes to someone's interest. He just finds the struggle funny, so he keeps up with the facade.
Jimin was no quitter either. Each failed attempt was followed by another more thought of gesture. By the time the game has reached its final seconds, Jimin has taken to recounting the dance awards he's received in an attempt to impress. It does work. Taehyung finds any type of atheism attractive. And he was very attracted to Jimin. But for the sake of his entertainment, he's merely nodding.
Despite his uninterested demeanor, Taehyung is still agreeing to join Jimin for milkshakes after the game. They're walking out side by side as Jimin babbles about God knows what and Taehyung just nods along.
More and more people exit the gym and as the crowd thins, anxiety grows in your chest. You still haven't decided. Spent the entire game watching Yoongi dominate his reviles and his own team and you were stuck. You wanted him to know it was you, finally feel him the way you've been craving for so long. But on the other hand, what if he was so disgusted with the fact that it was you and you've been lying to him that he no longer wanted anything to do with you?
You're still undecided after the last couple has left the gym. Left sat on the top of the bleachers, scrolling through your phone when the locker room door shoves open. Yoongi steps out, looking extremely handsome and nervous. You spot the slight shake of his hand as he reaches up to push his hair back.
He doesn't even look up, calculated steps headed right underneath the bleachers you're sat on. He's waiting for you, nervous like that. And you've all of a sudden made up your mind.
'I'm sorry I've been lying to you. I didn't think you'd find the account, it was a joke! I never meant for it to go this far...I'm sorry. Please don't hate me.'
That's your mantra as you make your way underneath the bleachers. It took a full twenty minutes before you were mustering up the courage to move. And just as you're about to join him, he's stepping out with a confused look on his face.
“Yn? What are you doing here?” He's smiling at you. “Thought you hated crowds,” There's not even a bit of him that thinks you're here to meet him. Just a coincidence that you're walking toward the bleachers as he waits. And the coward in you takes the out, pushing a smile onto your lips to match his. “I came with Taehyung! He left, though. I was just going,” He ignores the awkward point toward the doors, moving to close the space between the two of you. He's naturally dropping his arm over your shoulders, leading you in the other direction.
“Did you see how amazing I was out there?” The nervous Yoongi you had caught glimpse of moments before was tucked away somewhere else. He was back to the cocky guy you knew so well, a grin to match as he walked the two of you around the perimeter of the gym. “Won the whole game, didn't I?” Head tilting to the side slightly, looking down at you.
He doesn't need you to say it because he already knows, but the way you nod strokes his ego nicely. After you've circled the gym twice, he's walking the two of you out of the room – the entire time filling you in on behind-the-scenes tidbits about the game that just ended.
Three sentences in a story about how he managed to shoot the ball without even looking, he's cutting himself off. Brows wrinkling as he takes a moment to study your features and he looks genuinely confused, you're about to ask what's with him but he's beating you to it. “You look pretty,”
His words catch you so off guard that there's actually a stumble in your step, air getting caught in your throat and forcing a cough from your chest. Of course, Yoongi has thrown compliments your way dozens of times. He was always calling you hot and making elaborate remarks whenever he saw you sitting at your desk...
But to call you pretty? With that look in his eye that had your body instantly heating up.. and not in the 'i want to jump your bones right here and now,' type of way, but in an 'i want to hold your hand and pull you close,' type of way. You're not sure how to react, so you don't. Brushing it off with a laugh that sounds more forced than you intended.
“Oh! Uhm. Thanks? I just wore this dress... it's a little short, though.” As proof, you're reaching to tug the hem of the dress further down your thighs. Which brings Yoongi's attention down to the exposed skin he had neglected to notice before.
That shocks him, normally that would be the first thing his eyes were zeroing in on. “I didn't even...” Sentence ending in his mind, he's quick to lift his gaze back up to your face. “I was talking about your face. It's kinda glowing? I don't know why,” He laughs it off, all at once deciding that he's done discussing the topic of your appearance.
His arm drops from around your shoulders, yet you're not even allowed a second to mourn it because he's reaching for your hand just as fast. “I know where they store the concessions after the games,” He says with a large grin as if he's just told you he has the detailed map to a pot of gold.
Either way, you're following closely behind him as he tugs you through the halls of the school. You're too focused on the feel of his hand in yours to think about where you're going. It's soft and warm, long fingers reaching well past your knuckles. You definitely didn't miss he was the type to interlock fingers rather than clasp palms. Something about had your stomach flipping.
Yoongi stops in front of the supply closet mainly used to store the old laptops and film equipment. The lock on the door is broken so he's able to pull it open with just a few jiggles, revealing several boxes of candy and chocolate, fruit snacks, and chips. He's dropping your hand only to step into the closet, picking out what he wants.
“Wait. Isn't this stealing?” There's a twinge of panic in your voice that he ignores, trying to decide between Doritos and Hot Cheetos. “There wouldn't even be a game to sell these at if it weren't for me,” He says halfheartedly, handing over both bags of chips to you. “My parents paid to remodel the gym. And majority of the money used to buy these comes from their donations,” He clarifies, proving that basketball wasn't the only standing he had with this school.
And you really couldn't argue with that logic.
One by one he's filling your arms with snacks until he's sure that he's got enough to feed the both of you until next summer. He's then grabbing one single bottle of Gatorade before he's kicking the door shut, reaching his arms out to scoop half of the load from your grasp.
“Let's go sit outside with these,” There was something about the way Yoongi did things. With so much certainty. Who's to say that you didn't have plans other than sitting around and eating snacks with him? He spoke like he knew people would drop everything to be at his beck and call and because he carried himself like that, he always seemed to get exactly what he wanted.
Exactly why he found himself playing on the court today instead of sitting on the sidelines like he should've been. Rules just seemed to bend when it came to him, people seemed to shift and mold themselves in order to be desirable to him. Which was exactly why you're following him outside without a word, adjusting your skirt so you're not sitting your bare ass on the grass.
“Ooh. Your skirt is really short,” He says in slight amazement, head cocking to the side to get a better view underneath the hem of it.
You feel your face instantly heat up, hands flying out to push his forehead back. “Don't look!” You try to sound serious but can't help the giggle that bubbles in your throat. There was just something about Yoongi trying to peak up your skirt that turned you into a blushing schoolgirl.
His brow raises at the lack of annoyance in your tone and he's immediately tempted to test his luck. Reaching a hand out, he's pinching the fabric between two fingers before slowly lifting. “Why not? My favorite color is red,”
Obviously referring to the underwear you've got on and that has your eyes widening, hands quickly batting his away. “Yoongi!” It sounds more playful than anything and he doesn't hesitate to join in with your laughter, a dramatic pout taking over his features as you plop down on the grass beside him.
“You're no fun,” A warm hand wraps around your thigh, gently lifting your leg into his lap and the other follows. He uses the excuse of not wanting you to sit fully on the grass in your pretty skirt, but his hand doesn't lift your thigh and you're in no rush to brush it off.
It's cold and he notices the shiver of your back as you lean back on the damp grass. “I'm always so damn hot after a game,” He announces a little too loudly as he tugs the zipper of his basketball jacket down, pealing it off and tossing it in your direction. “Wear that. I don't want it to get dirty on the ground,” Another excuse because no way would he risk getting cold just because some girl forgot to bring her own coat.
Though, he can't deny the subtle swell in his chest at the sight of you pulling the garment over your shoulders, instantly settling in the fabric. The urge to kiss you has never been as strong as it was right now. He's pushing through the snacks he's brought along, choosing a kit-kat out of the mix and tearing into it.
“You like these right?” Plucking a package of fruit snacks up, he flashes it up in your direction. And it's almost laughable, how much attention to detail this man paid. You had this same package in your bag during one of your tutoring sessions, you remember because he had rolled his eyes at the thought of you only having snacks for dinner.
They were for Taehyung, though, one among the many snacks he asked you to bring whenever the two of you shared a class. Yoongi had assumed they were yours, though, and that you liked them – so he was sure to grab them in his little snack raid.
So of course you're taking them with a smile, ripping into the package and digging the first few gummies out. And then it's quiet. Just the sound of the wind and the soft chomp of his chocolate cookie. He looks like he's thinking hard about something, staring in front of him with his brows furrowed.
Part of you knows what's going through your mind, while the other half desperately looks for other things that could be weighing on his mind. Anything that had nothing to do with the shitty way you stood him up. The tips of his fingers dance up your thigh, absentmindedly drawing patterns in your soft skin. Touch so subtle, you're positive he's not even trying to turn you on... but that doesn't stop the heat pooling between your legs.
He's staring out far ahead of him, heavy thoughts weighing on his shoulders. Lips formed in a soft pout as he chews, fingers finding the hem of your skirt. He manages to find a loose string, deciding it doesn't belong so he's tugging at it. You watch as his face scrunches when it doesn't immediately tear, his eyes dropping to watch his fingers.
Your breath catches as his eyes slowly lift, tracing over the dips and lines of your body until they're landing on your face. And he's hitting you with the most sultry gaze you've ever seen it has a shiver running down your spine, completely unrelated to the cool air that tickles your skin.
“You're looking at me like that again,” It's hard not to let his deep voice affect you, but you're trying your hardest as you reach down to swat his hand away from your legs. “Fuck off,” You're saying with a roll of your eyes and an adorable tint to your cheeks. It's weird, how much he liked it when you swore at him. So used to your polite tone and your calculated responses. Even though he's said much worse, hearing the words fall from your lips has crude thoughts bouncing around his head.
Wouldn't be the first time he's thought of you like that. He was no stranger to letting his mind wander as you went on and on about God knows what, faking an interested nod as you pointed at the colorful images in his textbook. Mind so far from what you were teaching, too busy imagining how your tongue would feel on his neck, tiny hands around down his jeans.
He'd probably have to walk you through it, teach you how to make him feel good. So inexperienced, innocent, of course, you'd need him to guide you. Probably never dealt with a dick like his, you'd definitely need him to walk you through it.
Yoongi's still got a loose grip on your fingers, staring blankly at you and it's been a few seconds of it. As soon as you're moving to pull your hand from his grasp, though, he's reacting, fingers intertwining with yours before dropping to rest on your lap. He liked the feeling of your hand in his much more than he was willing to admit.
“I know everything,” You probably look like a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide and jaw dropped. There's an apology ready on your lips, heart pounding in your ears as you try to form the right words. All you can think though, is how? And why was he bringing it up like this of all ways? “W-what?” You barely trust the word as it leaves your lips.
The smirk that plays on his lips does nothing to ease your nerves. “I know you talked to the dean,” Not at all what you were expecting him to say, but you play it off. Relief washing over your body, letting out a nervous laugh.
“I didn't...” You start, but quickly realize there's no use in lying about it. The jig is up. “How'd you find out?” Looking up at him sheepishly, you try your best to gauge what he's thinking and whether or not he's upset.
He doesn't give anything away, simply shrugging his shoulders. “There's no way they'd go against policy without someone like you putting pressure on it,”
“Oh.” You did have a bit of a pull when it came to the office. The hours you've spent volunteering for the school, organizing events, and just overall being an extra hand for the staff was enough, not to mention your grades that you were positive were used in the welcome brochure this year. They loved you in there.
“Don't worry, I'm not mad.” Yoongi actually looks at you as he speaks, eliminating any room for confusion on his feelings. Still, you feel the need to justify your actions. “I know you can raise your scores, Yoongi. Just realistically speaking, it won't happen in time.”
He's lifting a large hand, waving it in the air as if to literally brush the push away. “I know that. You're the only person who thinks I can, so I didn't doubt that” It sounds a bit sad to hear him say that, yet you're not sure why. He doesn't look sad, emotionless as he says it but that doesn't stop the heavy feeling you get in your chest upon hearing it.
So, of course, you're rushing to reassure him, even if he doesn't need it. “I'm sure that's not true. You have a bunch of friends,” The corners of his lips as he blows air through his nose, a short unamused chuckle.
“I do, don't I?” He says, but it doesn't sound the way it should.
You have no time to dwell on it, though, his hands reaching forward for the zipper of his jacket that swallows your frame. Attention shifting to his fingers as he grasps the metal, tugging it up until your entire body is hidden from the cold. “Keep that zipped. Do you want me to walk you home? I'm kinda tired.” He's gently brushing your legs from his lap, hopping to his feet before you've even answered.
Still, you take the hand the hand that he extends out to you, standing alongside him. He takes a moment to shove the remaining snacks into his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder before he's leading the two of you off of the field.
He's quiet as he navigates his way through the campus, taking your directions even though he doesn't need any help finding his way to the girls' dorms. Nothing is said between the two of you and guilt bubbles in your chest, knowing that you have something to do with this new silence. Either the you that tutors him or the you that gets him off, either way, it's your fault.
It's the flashes of disappointment you catch as he loses himself in his thoughts, most likely had hoped that you would've shown up at some point tonight, but it was getting too late to wait and there was no way he was going to let you walk back home alone at this time. He had no choice but to pack up and leave, accept defeat. You weren't coming.
Yoongi does, though, make one comment about crashing as soon as he gets home. And you're so desperate to lighten the mood that you're latching on to the small opening and using it as a chance to stroke his ego. That surely would be the reset button on him, right? “Your back must be killing you from carrying the whole team like that,”
A laugh actually leaves his lips and you feel the pride cruise through your body. “Right? You should learn how to give Nuru Massages, they work wonders.” He's hitting you with a cheeky grin and a suggestive lift of his brows, so you're deciding your work is done. A large smile spreading across your lips, proud of yourself for at least getting him to laugh after ruining his night the way you had.
He's catching on to the way your face lights up instantly, completely disregarding the lack of forced annoyance to his overtly sexual comment. Too taken with how your face looks. And then something's clicking in his mind. “I figured what was with your face earlier. You were smiling.”
“Oh, come on. I smile!” Eyes rolling up at him, but your smile never falls.
Yoongi's shaking his head in a real animated way, body swinging slightly with the movement. “Not around me. You're always so serious. You never laugh at my jokes,” He always tried so hard to distract you when it came to studying, hoping that you'd forget about the lesson plan and just chill.
Did you really have to quiz him each and every time he showed up? It just didn't make sense. “Your jokes aren't funny,” The deadpan tone that he's sure you only use on him is back. “I'm funny!” He's loudly defending, catching the attention of some students passing by. He's quickly locking eyes with one of them close enough to reach, tapping his hand against the guy's chest. “Hey. Tell her I'm hilarious,” He speaks with a large grin.
You quite literally see the stars forming in the kid's eyes as if he's been approached by a full-time superstar. “He's hilarious.” The words are directed to you, but his gaze never drops from Yoongi. “Hi, Yoongi! You were amazing tonight! I've never seen someone-” Words catching in his throat as Yoongi turns his attention away from him, directing it back down to you.
“See? I'm hilarious.” A triumphant sparkle in his eye, so you have no other choice but to agree.
You're reaching the front door of your dorm much quicker than you would've liked, hoped to see Yoongi's large gummy smile for a little bit longer as he recounted story after story to further prove how hilarious he actually was.
He stands in front of you, hands in his pockets and toe kicking at a random rock he's found on the ground. The unsure, nerve-wracking feeling in his chest is foreign and he has no idea why it's coming up now with you of all people. “You weren't boring today,” He says, but he really means to say that he had fun hanging out with him.
Thankfully, you're not offended by the constant way he's calling you boring. Instead, you just simply roll those pretty eyes. “If I wasn't boring, you'd still be sat on the sidelines.” His jaw drops, looking thoroughly scandalized. “That was mean!” He speaks through a laugh, reaching out to lightly push at your shoulder.
A string of giggles leave your lips and that has him wanting to laugh more. You two much look crazy, stood in front of the dorms laughing at really nothing. It's a few moments before the laughter dies down, smiles resting on your lips. “Thank you for talking to the dean.” He's sincere and he wants you to know that, looking you right in the eyes as he speaks.
“Nobody roots for me the way that you do,” Again. He doesn't even sound sad, but the words make you feel like he is. And you're rushing to take care of it. “Did you not hear the entire gym chanting your name?”
Never been to a game before, so you had assumed he was exaggerating when he claimed to be the star of the team. Boy, were you wrong. Most of the points made tonight were shot by him, hardly ever missed, and the way he ducked and dodged the much taller players was definitely something to awe over.
“That's different.” He's quick to shake your words off. “I know I can make the shots, they do too. You root for me in things that I don't know I can do, but you do.” It's the most serious that you've ever seen Yoongi before and you're not sure how to react.
So you decide not to think too deeply into it, pushing a smile onto your lips as you reach your arm out to rest a hand on his shoulder. “I can detect potential. It's a gift,” Taking a moment to stroke your own ego before landing two pats on his back and pulling away, distracting yourself to search for your keys.
He's agreeing with nothing but a nod, taking advantage of your dropped gaze to shamelessly admire you. He wasn't kidding when he had mentioned how pretty he thought you were. Tonight and when you first met. But, there was something holding him back when it came to making a move. Like he knew it wouldn't work on you. That you were different.
It's weird because he doesn't even want to try with the tricks and antics. Enjoyed the little study sessions filled with middle school flirting, slowly getting to know you, and moments like these where he got to steal glances when you were looking.
Until you were, eyes drifting up to meet his stare and you're instantly hitting him with a look of confusion. Before you're putting together why he's stood there staring at you. “Oh! Do you want your jacket back?” Hands moving to reach for the zipper, but he's quickly stopping you.
It's not much longer than the dress that you had been wearing and not made from the warmest of fabrics, but he liked seeing you wrapped up in something that he knew belonged to him. “No, you're fine. Keep it. I was just... goodnight?” He's taking two awkward steps back, nearly stumbling when you're flashing a smile up at him.
“I'll see you Thursday!” You call, but he can't even muster out a proper answer. Simply nodding his head as he backs further away from you, actually watching until you're entering the dorm. Not turning around until you're completely out of sight and even still, he has that awkward feeling in his chest.
What the fuck is going on!?
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— he has no idea who you are… up front, you’re sweet and innocent - but in reality you’re the exact opposite. running your own nsfw account, where your favorite topic is his hands.
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A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. if u want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! + if you’ve asked to be on my permanent taglist, you do not need to ask to be added to this one !!
1K notes · View notes
jimidol · 11 months ago
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Jeon empire - 01 | jjk
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⏤ main pairing : ceo!jungkook x female reader
⏤ genre : ceo au, daddy jungkook au, smut, angst and fluff
⏤ warnings : some sexual tension, jealousy, dirty talking, some swearing, marking, hand job, switching positions, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (please be careful, this is a fiction), overstimulation, multiple orgasms and i guess that’s all 
⏤ words : 6,683
⏤ summary : Jungkook is a man you’ve always admired for all he has accomplished in his professional career and working for him was your dream. But never have you thought that that same man would be the one you’d have sex with every night and that would drive you crazy.  
⏤ author’s note : hi loves, so this is the special one shot for our lovely and adorable Jungkook. the idea for this came up while i was driving to work not even a week ago and i thought this could be good. i wanted to thank you for all the notes on the preview. i hope you’ll like it, love you all 💜 
⏤ beta reader : the amazing @s0seo​ ! thanks again for all the extra effort you put on this ! 💜
⏤ tag list : @imluckybitches @aa-ronpa @aretha170 @jiminskth @ggukkieland @yzkyzkuniverse @bonnyskies @dayjeons @somewhereinthestarss @pinkyxpeach @teresaisla @jenotation @rjsmochii @featuringcone9 @pjmochii​ @carolsummerlove​ @moondmples​
part 2 | moodboard 
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Today is a very special day.
There’s a big event being held at the office this evening to celebrate the opening of the new branch and everybody is present.
You have always loved those kinds of events. Partially because you get to see all of your coworkers, but mainly because you get the opportunity to drink a lot.
However, this is the first event you’ve attended since you began sleeping with your boss..
You don’t know how, but you’re sure that everything will be different this time.
At this point, you don’t know if after this big event, he’ll ask you to spend some alone time with him, but if, how close the two of you have recently gotten is any indication, you can say that  chances are, the two of you will go home together tonight.
“Yn.”
You turn around and see Jin, your manager, holding a glass of champagne in his hand.
“How are you ?” He offers you a big smile. He’s really the sweetest guy, and the best manager you’ve ever had.
“Jin.” You smile back at him. “Since this morning, I am still good.” Looking around, you notice that there are a lot of new faces. “The new branch has brought a lot of people.”
“Yes, Jungkook has given his soul to make sure that this branch would be huge.”
You heard that Jin and Jungkook are old friends, and when Jin was desperate for a job,  Jungkook hired him, in hopes of helping his friend. You always admired their friendship, and thought that it was actually really kind of him to go out of his way like that, not to mention the rumors circulating about how cute he is. The last few months, you’ve gotten the opportunity to meet him, and you can in fact confirm it, he’s super cute.
“The company seems to be his baby, so I can imagine that he has given his everything for the new branch.”
Jeon Jungkook, the famous CEO of Jeon Industries. He created the company ten years ago with basically nothing, but he was a very smart man and an even harder worker. He gave everything he had to run this company and he succeeded. His story is the main reason why you decided to join this company. You completely admire that man.
However you knew when you applied for this job that the chances to actually meet him would be slim to none, but you were okay with that because you were working in a place that you loved.
All of this was – and still is – your passion.
What you didn’t expect, was that he would eventually come to notice not only you, but your work as well.
One day, he came to visit your office and asked to speak with you about a project that you were in charge of creating. As you spoke with him about your ideas, you realized he was mesmerizing and even more beautiful than in the magazine pictures you would often see him in.
Little did you know he thought the exact same thing of you. You were even prettier than in all the pictures he had seen of you and you only became more mesmerizing while speaking about your passion.  
For months, all he wanted was to fuck you, and when presented the offer, you wanted the same.
You knew that it was wrong and that he was your boss, but when he told you how he felt about you, how much he wanted you, you broke all rules and fucked your boss.
You thought that eventually he would grow tired of you or lose interest, but now, almost eight months later, you’re still letting him fuck you.
Even after all this time, your nights are still filled with passion and you never speak about work. You both speak about who you are and what makes you happy.
The two of you continue to learn new things about each other and maintain an intimate and transparent relationship. You learned that his love for banana milk far outweighs his desire for  alcohol, he loves to run every morning before going to work, he places his family over everything else in his life, and he loves his daughter Soo-ji more than anything else in this world. Not only was it a huge shock to learn that he had a daughter, you were also surprised to learn that she was the reason the company was created and is the only reason the Jeon empire exists.
Soo-ji was born ten years ago, the result of a one-night stand, and her father wanted to give her the best future he could because he grew up with nothing and struggled throughout his youth. Her mother left shortly after she was born because she didn’t believe she was ready.
The day she left him he looked down at his daughter as she slept in his arms and he vowed to give her the best life he could, no matter the cost. He explained that all of the money, all of the success was for her. The empire would all be for her.
Jungkook made sure his little girl would never miss anything, never want or need anything that she couldn’t have.
As time went by and through your late night talks in between your late night sexcapades, you realized that he was the kindest and most inspiring person you’d ever met.
Your eyes get lost in the crowd, looking for Jungkook and in a matter of seconds, they find him in the middle of a discussion with people that you have never seen before. A small smile makes its way to your face, and you can’t stop thinking about how handsome he looks.
Like always he is wearing his signature tight fitted suit, and like always he looks very hot in it. The way his clothes hugs his body and reveal the toned muscles lying beneath, never fails to  turn you on.  
“Gooood evening everybody !”
Jimin, one of your coworkers appears out of nowhere and as usual, he’s super happy. You notice that he is not alone, a dark-haired man is standing next to him and he doesn’t seem very comfortable. “Let me introduce you, Yoongi, my boyfriend and also, the new employee of the  branch.”
A huge smile appears on your face, finally happy to meet the famous Yoongi. Jimin has been telling you about him for months, and you know that he’s very infatuated with him. From what Jimin has told you, they have opposite personalities, but they totally complete each other.  
“I am very happy to finally meet you.” You say to Yoongi and he nods at you. “I am Yn, the favorite colleague of Jimin.”
“Nice to meet you.” He offers you a small smile.
“Always exaggerating !” Jimin says and you roll your eyes.
“I know I’m your favorite, Jiminie.” You say hugging you and he hugs you back. Jimin is the only person that knows about you and Jungkook, but he doesn’t know all the details. All he knows is that time to time, you have sex.
“And darling, this is Jin, our lovely manager.” Jimin shows Jin to his boyfriend and they shake their hands.
Some other people join you and you all quickly fall into discussion with one another. Slowly, you can see that Yoongi starts to feel more comfortable, and you decide to get to know him a bit better. He’s very lovely and adorable, and you totally see why your friend is completely in love with him.
After a while, Jimin says that he will go to the bar to get a drink and you decide to go with him. You both walk together, and as you pass by Jungkook you feel a sense of satisfaction when he notices you. Although the look he gives you is simple, there is a hidden intensity behind it, and you know this look all too well. As he continues looking at you intently he takes a sip of his champagne and you can tell he’s thinking about all the ways he wants you right now, and you unconsciously bite your lip.
“It looks like somebody wants to fuck you.” Jimin whispers in your ear, and your eyes leave Jungkook, as you turn to look at Jimin.
“Don’t say those kinds of things here, ChimChim.” A naughty smile appears on his face. “Somebody could hear you.”
“But nobody saw who was looking at you with so much lust.” Your gaze lays down again on Jungkook but this time he is focused on the Jeon empire’s CFO Namjoon.
“Chim, you never know who could be watching.”
You take a glass of wine and go back with Jimin. This time, Hoseok has already joined all of you and you hug him. He’s the sunshine of your office, he can turn the hardest days into good days.
Minutes later, Taehyung, who is commonly referred to as the prettiest man in the office, besides Jungkook of course, joins you too. He’s very popular, and everybody either wants his attention,  wants to date him, or wants both.
You can totally see why, although you find him very attractive too, all of your attention is on Mister Jeon.
“How are things going with your friend ?” Taehyung puts his hand on your waist and whispers in your ear. He is well aware that you’ve been sleeping with someone from the office, but he doesn’t know that it is your boss.
Your eyes look again for Jungkook and he’s looking again at you but this time, his eyes are definitely not filled with lust. In fact if you weren’t mistaken, you could swear that you could see jealousy in his eyes. You’re probably just imagining things.
“Good.” You simply reply, looking at Tae. “We still see each other from time to time, and of course the sex is great, but I really appreciate the fact that we usually wind up discussing random things and getting to know each other better.”
What you don’t know is that Jungkook doesn’t like to see you around the other men in the office.   Actually he hates it, but he feels like he has no right to be jealous because he’s not your boyfriend. He knows he can’t claim you as his, and seeing you that close with Taehyung is driving him crazy. But he has to control himself because everyone is here and discovering your little affair will be really bad.
“Sex is still that good ?” Tae is always very curious but since you have told him about your little adventure, he has become rather curious about your sex life.
“Always.” You smile at him and look right at Jungkook. Sex has always been so damn good with him. Jungkook becomes totally wild in bed. It is such a contrast to his personality at work, and you’ve found that you really liked seeing that side of him.
A smirk appears on Tae’s face.
“And I guess that our little boy is also here.” You look at your friend. “You’re a dirty girl, fucking another employee.” His gaze travels to where you were looking just a few seconds ago, and he sees all the important faces of the company. “ maybe it’s even with someone above you.”
“Shut up, Tae !”
You don’t want more people to know your dirty little secret. Jungkook is not just anybody, he’s the CEO of the fucking company!
“I was just looking at our CEO, nothing more. My buddy is not here tonight.” You’re trying to convince him that you’re not fucking with someone important, but it’s becoming rather difficult given how frequently you can feel him looking at you.
“If he were here, I’d be around him and not you, trust me!”  
He simply nods and doesn’t say anything else. He is well aware that it is a sensitive topic for you, and that you would likely never tell him who it is. He had already understood, months ago, when you refused to tell him his name that he wasn’t just a random guy that you had met in a bar.
As his eyes follow your gaze to the CEO, Tae realizes now that it’s Jungkook.
When he looked in his boss’s direction, he saw his eyes laying on your figure, and he could immediately tell how jealous he was.
You happily continue catching up with your friends and coworkers, and a bit later, some other colleagues join you. You start drinking more and more, not thinking about how you’d feel the next morning. You’re just enjoying the moment and plus, tomorrow you’re not working, so you don’t really have to care.
After a while, your eyes look again for your fuck buddy and you find that he’s made his way a bit closer to you. From where he is now, you’re close enough that you can hear him talking, but your head fills with silence as you spot a new girl that you’ve never seen before clearly flirting with him.  
There she is, just standing beside him and chuckling at every word that comes out of Jungkook’s mouth. She moves her ass and exposes her boobs just to brush them against his body, and the most infuriating part is, he’s simply letting her do it. It’s like you don’t even exist ! Not caring that you’re in the middle of a fucking company event, you make your way over to the two of them, ready to show that stupid bitch who’s boss.
Suddenly you stop yourself. You remember that he doesn’t belong to you, that he’s not your boyfriend. He’s just your boss, your boss that you regularly have sex with, but your boss nonetheless.
You take a long sip of your glass of wine. ‘Stop being jealous,’ you think to yourself.  
“Do you know who’s the girl next to Mister Jeon ?” You ask as you turn to Jimin. He always knows everything about everything. Jimin smirks, knowing perfectly how much this woman is bothering you.
“She’s the director of the new branch.” He tells you. “It’s Kim Joo-hyun, one of the best scientists of the country.”
You roll your eyes. How can one of the best scientists act like that in front of her boss ? He’s her superior, it is totally unprofessional that she’s grinding her body to her boss like she wants to fuck him.
Your eyes continue watching them, hoping that one of them will seem to notice you, but neither one does. It is like they are completely alone in this big space, and it is completely driving you crazy. You have never felt this way before, and you’re becoming acutely aware that you really don’t like it.
Joo-hyun scoots closer to Jungkook, and she ‘accidentally’ makes herself fall into him. Her chest slightly brushes  his arms, and you frown as you watch her, knowing full well that she does all of this on purpose. She probably wants to be graced with the attention of Jungkook since he’s the most important person in the company. Apparently for people like her being the director of the new branch of Jeon Industries is not enough.    
And just like the gentleman he is, he helps her to get back on her feet. Still watching them, you can’t help the extreme anger and irritation that enters your mind. You never had the opportunity to be near or around Jungkook in this building because it was deemed ‘ inappropriate,’ but that bitch rubs herself against him like she’s the one he fucks every single damn night, and nobody gives a shit? This is bullshit!    
You slowly inhale some air to calm yourself, and you try to act like you don’t give a fuck about the scene playing before your eyes. But it’s hard, Joo-hyun is extremely gorgeous. You can’t deny it. You know for sure that she’s much better than you in almost every aspect, and you’d completely understand if Jungkook would prefer her over you.  
You finish your glass of wine and finally look away, hoping to forget what you just saw, and you hold Tae’s hand, wanting to feel some kind of comfort.
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jk : you’re leaving ?
You look at the message you just received but decide to ignore it. He pissed you off with that barbie bitch. If he likes her that much he can just go fuck her tonight instead of you.
“Someone is staring at you....” Jimin whispers in your ear. You are both sitting at a table, and your head is resting on your friend’s shoulder. You’ve been drinking water for a little while because you accidentally drank too much alcohol.
You see Jungkook leave the group of people he was with, and without taking his eyes off you, he brings his phone close to his ear. A few seconds later, your phone starts ringing, and his name appears on your screen. You sit up on your chair and answer the call, already over the conversation you're about to have.
“What ?” You ask annoyed.
“Is it too hard to answer to a fucking text ?” His eyes never leave you and you can see that he is getting mad.
“I don’t want to.” Being a little bit drunk is clearly not helping you think straight.
“You’re drunk.” He brushes his hair back with one hand and closes his eyes for a second. “You need to go home.”
“No.” You watch as his face displays a look of surprise. After all, you've never told him no before. “I am staying.”  
“Fuck, yn !” He mumbles. “It’s 2am, you’re drunk, and it’s not safe to stay.”
He hangs up and comes to your direction. Your heart starts beating fast, Jungkook is coming to your direction for the first time in front of a lot of people.
“Hey everyone !” He says when he appears at your table. “I hope you enjoyed the event.” Everybody seems confused and surprised at the same time that the big boss is here. “Just wanted to ask you if you have a way to go back home. We can call you a taxi if needed and it will be all on the company. The safety of our employees is our top priority.”
‘Safety, my ass,’ you think to yourself. You know this is just an excuse to come next to you, and most probably to ask to speak with you in private.
“Miss y/l/n, can I have a word with you ?”
All the faces turn to you and you blush. Of course, he was not going to tell you to go home in front of everyone. They would be all surprised and they would understand everything.
You nod and stand up before following him. He leads you to a more private area, and when he turns around his gaze burns right through you.
“I’ll drive you home, I can’t let you go like that.” He tells you. “I’ll be so worried if I don’t.”
Jungkook has always been such an adorable person and the power that his company has given him has never destroyed that side of him. Your hand finds its way to his face, and you brush your thumb over the skin of his cheek.
“Okay.” You whisper. “I wouldn’t want you to be worried because of me.” He nods and you desperately want to kiss him, but it wouldn’t be the brightest idea to do it here. “I’ll just say goodbye to my friends.”
“I’ll wait for you in my car.”
You go back to the table and you wave goodbye to everybody. “Don’t forget to use protection.” Jimin whispers in your ear and you gently slap him on the arm. Taehyung just winks at you and smirks. You don’t need much more to understand that he knows Jungkook is your secret friend, and it makes you blush.
Even if you thought that Joo-hyun was a bitch for being so obvious about how much she wanted to fuck Jungkook, you realize that you were worried about nothing. You were the bitch that Jungkook fucked every single night, and she wasn’t about to change that.
You calmly walk into the parking area and find Jungkook's car pretty easily. He’s already inside the car, waiting for you and you take a seat in the car.
Jungkook starts the car once you have your seatbelt on, and the ride is filled with an awkward  silence. You realize that you don’t feel like talking to him at all. Your thoughts keep returning to when he was talking to Joo-hyun, and you keep thinking about the way she was rubbing her body against him. You’re still pissed. The fact that you’re also still extremely drunk doesn’t help your increasing sense of jealousy and anger. No matter how guilty you feel for ignoring him, you simply can’t bring yourself to talk to him at this moment.
You stare out of the window, completely silent. All you hope is for him to not say a single word because all you want to do is to sleep and forget about everything you saw tonight.
“What the hell happened to you tonight?” He asks looking at you briefly before looking back at the road. “I’ve never seen you so drunk.”
He’s right. Usually, you never let your emotions dictate your alcohol consumption but this night, you really drank a lot.
“Nothing.” You reply, trying to express how much you do not want to talk about what you’re feeling.
“You can lie to anyone else, but not to me, yn. You promised.” You shut your eyes and try to hold in your words. All you wish for now is that he didn’t know you so well. He glances over at you again and his tone tells you that you expressing your feelings is non negotiable. “Tell me.”
“That Joo-hyun! She practically jumped on you and fucked you in front of every single person that works there. And you… you let her do it, like it was normal, like you had no problem with her throwing herself at you.”  
A big smile appears on his face. He has been pushing his jealous side away because he never wanted to scare you and to push you away, but now he’s so damn happy because you’re jealous too.  If he only knew back when Joo-hyun was with him, he would have pushed things a bit further just to see your face.
“You were jealous.” He says.
“No, I was not !” You look at him and cannot believe that he’s smiling like he has won some kind of award. “She was just acting inappropriate! You’re her boss and she was grinding on you like you were hers. It was extremely unprofessional.”
“I personally know somebody who really grinds her body on her boss’ body.” You hit his arm, not liking at all his comment. “Don't be so touchy.” He says grabbing your hand and holding it. He intertwines his fingers with yours and rubs his thumb across the back of your hand.
“You want to know something ?” You nod and caress his hand with your thumb as well. “I don’t like seeing you around Taehyung, he touches you a lot and it drives me mad that you let him do it.”
Of all the statements you were prepared to hear, that wasn't one of them. You never imagined that Jungkook actually liked you let alone to the point of being jealous.
“Why haven’t you told me anything before ?”
“Because we aren’t dating, and I have no right to be jealous like that. If you’d want to date him, I’d just let you go.”
You softly squeeze his large hand. “I don’t want him.” You thought it was obvious that the only man you wanted was him. “I want you.”
“God, don’t say those things when you’re drunk.” He almost groans. “Because all I want to do is to fuck you.”
“Then do it.”
“I don't take advantage of girls who drink too much.” He says. “But tomorrow, I’ll just show you that you have nothing to worry about with Joo-hyun.” He brings your intertwined hands to his lips and he presses a soft kiss on your hand. “The only person I want is you, princess.”  
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You slowly open your eyes, and instantly, you feel a presence next to you in your bed. Jungkook is sleeping like an angel, and flashes of yesterday night come back all at once. You remember how you begged him to sleep with you, and he had to call his mother asking to take care of his little Soo-ji today. You’re grateful that he refused to have sex with you yesterday because you fell asleep as soon as your body hit the matress.
His hair is completely covering his face, and your hands push his hair back just for your eyes to admire his beautiful sleeping face. Ten years ago, the young version of yourself who admired Jungkook would never believe that today, he’d be sleeping in your bed.
Your eyes trail down his body and linger on his exposed torso. Jungkook is rather muscular for a CEO, from your experience, CEOs are usually old and fat.
“Good morning.” He whispers as he slowly opens his eyes.
“Good morning.” You smile at him. Watching him like that, all you want to do is fuck him until you forget your own name.  
Jungkook leans his face closer to yours and presses his lips against yours. The kiss is filled with heat and passion and you already know where there is going. It doesn’t matter that you could taste his morning breath, it doesn’t matter that you are both so needy right now, it doesn’t matter that you get not the chance to brush your teeth.  
You’re going to spread your legs for him, and you’ll let him fill you up with his cock.
All that matters is that you are both here together and that his lips are on yours.
You shift your position in the bed, your lips still pressed against his. You sit astride him, your ass pressed against his length and letting your legs rest on either side of his body. Your lips break the kiss and make their way till his chest, leaving a trail of kisses behind. His breathing slowly becomes erratic and he closes his eyes, savoring the feeling of your lips pressed against his skin.
You stop where the name of his daughter is tattooed on his chest and rub your finger over the letters. You have always found this very cute and adorable and it just proves how devoted he is to his daughter. “This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Soo-ji is my whole world but at the same time, my little secret. But with her name tattooed right over my heart, I know that she’s always with me, in my heart.” He explains.
Given how proudly he always speaks about his daughter, you know that she’s lucky to have him as her father. He literally built an empire for her so that she could live the dream life that she wants and never have to worry about anything.
“She’s the only girl to have your heart.” You whisper touching her name with your fingertips.
“Not really.” You look up at him. “I have an extremely smart employee whose jealousy of the new branch’s director I found very sexy, and she has conquered my heart in a way I never thought was possible.” You feel his words melting your heart and he continues. “She is my other little secret and if I could, I’d scream to the world that I am falling for her.”
“She’s very lucky.”
“Oh, I am the luckiest, trust me.” You feel butterflies on your little stomach and bend down, kissing him fervently. It just hits you hard now that you love him, and you know the feeling is mutual. You’re not just a hopeless girl who fell in love with the boy she fucked a few times. What the two of you have is real, and it’s not going anywhere. Slowly your lips go down to his neck and you decide to mark him as yours. You suck his skin and to your surprise he let you do it. He’s never let you mark him before and you know what this means.
You feel the rumble of his chest as he starts to groan, and you feel his hands lay on your waist. Accidentally, your ass grinds against his length and a groan leaves his lips. “Shit, princess.” Once you’re done with the hickey, you lick the sensitive spot and you smirk, happy with what you just did.
“I’ve missed you so fucking much.” He whispers as his fingers find their way underneath your chin and lift it up. His eyes are sparkling like they never have before and you know that you could forever get lost in his eyes. His lips find yours again and you could kiss him forever and still never get sick of it. His tongue licks your lips and you open up your mouth for him. His tongue explores the insides of your mouth, making you moan into his mouth.
“I need you, Kook.” You gasp as you feel yourself getting wetter. “I really need you, now.”  
The thing is that you haven’t had sex with Jungkook for at least a week. He has spent his last days working hard on the new branch and the huge event and he was always working until very late. So, right now, all you want is to feel him inside you. You don’t want him to lick or finger you until you’re cumming hard. You don’t want to feel his cock buried in your mouth until you swallow all his cum.
“My little girl is very needy.” He says smirking against your lips. “But she’s lucky that I missed her so much and that the only thing I want is to feel her tight walls around my hard length.”  
You both start removing every single piece of clothes that you were wearing, which was not a lot. He was only wearing his underwear while you were wearing a loose t-shirt with your panties. Your hand starts pumping his length, resulting in Jungkook rolling his head back and letting out a moan.
Seeing and feeling his long and thick cock just makes you want to feel him inside of you even more.
You move your hand up and down his length at a slow pace at first before quickening. He is getting harder, panting out curses of how good it feels to finally have your hand around him again. Precum is leaking and you use it as a lube to allow your hand to easily move along his dick.  “Fuck, yn.” He curses as he looks at your hand working on his cock. “You’ll make me cum.”    
You feel his cock twitch beneath your fingers. His large hands find their way to yours and stop your movements because he desperately wants to cum inside of you, although he also very badly wants to cum and cover your hands with his release.  A desperate groan leaves your lips. “I want to cum inside of you, baby girl.” You nod and he tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear.
You place your hands on his chest and the walls of your pussy clench around emptiness, wanting him more and more. “Oh, baby girl, I’ll fuck until you lose your mind I promise. I am going to empty my load so deep inside you that you won't even be able to walk tomorrow.” His dirty words send shivers down your spine and you desperately want him to fill you up.
His hand slips to your wet core and he curses when he feels how wet you are. “Fuck, babe.” His cold fingers brushing against your core makes you moan. “I want to clean you up with my tongue so bad.” You shake your head, not wanting him to do that. “Please, Kook.” You whine.
“I see my little girl is so needy.” He smirks and gathers your wetness in his fingers before using it as a lube on his length. Your eyes are glued to what he’s doing, and you admire the way your wetness mixes with his precum. This is so fucking hot and you badly want to suck him off to taste the mix of both your arousal.
His gaze meets yours once his dick is full of your arousal and his hands fall to your hips, guiding your body up and then back down as you slowly sink onto his cock. You moan as he stretches you out, your nails sinking on his chest as you feel a mix of pleasure and pain.  
“Fuck !” You whimper as he groans, more than happy to be inside of your tight heat. You’re sure that all your neighbors have heard his loud groan, but you simply don’t care. All you care about is to be fucked by this man underneath you.
“You’re so fucking tight.” He pants.
“And you’re so fucking big.” You add. Even after all the times he had fucked you, your walls are still tight but you’re sure that you’ll never get used to his size. He’s so big and thick.  
Both of you stay still once his cock is fully inside you. You lay down and press your forehead against his, giving time to your body to adapt to his cock. You look into each other's eyes and he offers you a big smile. “I just love the feeling of being fully buried inside you; it  feels like you were made just for me.” You smile back at him.
“Maybe we are soulmates.” You give him a quick kiss.
“I am sure we are.” He whispers. “I am the happiest in your arms.” You give him another kiss.
“I could stay like this forever.”    
“Me too, baby girl.” It feels like heaven, even though it hurts a little bit to have him fully inside of you. “Do you want me to move or do we wait a bit more ?” He asks with concern. Instead of answering, you grind your hips to let him know that you’re ready to feel him move.  
Your forehead leaves his and you sit up before he starts to thrust into you without any hesitation. His strong hands go down on your hips, holding you in place as his hips begin to thrust you at a slow pace. With every thrust he gives you; you feel your stomach get tighter. There aren’t words to describe how good it feels to share this moment with him. You look at him, hot as fuck and god, you feel so damn happy that he chose you over that Joo-hyun because she doesn’t get to see him all fucked up.
Knowing how Jungkook loves to handle everything during sex, you know that all you have to do is to sit on his cock and let him do all the work, enjoying every single second of this moment. He is strong enough to hold your body up as he fucks into your cunt from below. His thrusts become fast as he starts to set a pace he is comfortable with and also based on the way you scream his name with every thrust, thinking you are also comfortable with this pace too.  
“Feels good, baby girl ? Hmm ?” He questions. “Have you missed how daddy’s cock fills you up?” You give him a simple nod, not able to make a proper sentence because you’re completely lost in your own state of bliss. Jungkook loves seeing you like this, completely fucked up. He often imagines filming you like this just to watch it later over and over again.
Your walls pulse around his length, squeezing him and it results on his thrusts becoming more brutal. He is deep inside of you, deeper than he has ever been and you are fucking loving it. Tears start to roll down your cheeks because of the way he’s pounding inside of you. He’s stretching your insides so much with his rough thrust and it makes your whole body tremble.  
“Gonna cum, Kook.” You scream and you’re sure the entire neighborhood knows Jungkook is fucking the shit out of you. Your nails sink into his chest and he groans at the pain and pleasure it is giving him. He grips your hips harder as he continues to roughly thrust inside you, and you are sure that tomorrow you’ll have bruises.
“Go ahead, babe, cream all over my cock.” He groans as he keeps thrusting hard. “Make a mess for me, baby girl.” Those dirty words are all you need to let your orgasm go.
You are cumming and screaming his name. Your thighs are shaking but he keeps thrusting into you while you’re completely high from your orgasm. He’s loving the way you’re creaming his dick and just this sight could make him cum but he is determined to at least make you cum one more time before he would cum.
He quickly changes positions, flipping your bodies so that now he is on top of you and you are lying on the bed. Your legs wrap around his waist as he keeps thrusting into you. This is too much for your body and quickly, tears start falling from yours eyes, again.
“Kook,” you’re trying to speak but your mind can’t think straight from all this overstimulation, “too m-much.” This is the first time that Jungkook has tried this and even though it feels like it’s too much, your body is secretly loving.
“I know you can take it, baby girl. Be a good girl for daddy, okay ?” He whispers in your ear before he licks the spot right under your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You nod and you feel his tongue going down from your ear to your neck.
Jungkook sucks and bites the skin of your neck, leaving a bruise. “I let you mark me as yours, and I thought it was only right that I do the same, baby girl.” His thrusts are still brutal, and you don’t know if your body can handle all of this any longer.  
“Fuck, you’re killing me, Kook !” You say as your eyes roll back into the back of your head and he chuckles lowly into your ear. Due to his brutal thrust, the bed is creaking, the headboard beats against the wall behind you and your breasts are bouncing like crazy. His thumb makes contact with your clit and starts rubbing it, making you moan even louder. All of this feels so bad and so good at the same time, but you never want him to stop.  
The pace of his fingers is matching the pace of his thrusts, driving you completely crazy. The tip of his cock hits that spot and you cum all over him again. Your pussy clench around him as you moan loudly, and the juices of your release are leaking out everywhere. He keeps fucking you through your high as he chases his own release. Your walls keep clenching around him and that is all he needs to cum. His sperm paints your insides in white and he comes with a loud groan of your name. He closes his eyes, enjoying this moment of release and you are sure he’d never look so sexy.  
Jungkook collapses next to you as he decides to leave your pussy some needy rest. He really wants to lick his cum mixed with yours, but he has already pushed you too much tonight.
“Fuck, it always feels good to have sex with you, yn !” He says, still breathing hard.
“I could have sex with you all the time, Kook !” You look at him and smile.
“Me too.” He says as he comes closer to you and you rest your head on his chest. “Would you like to go on a proper date with me, yn ?”
“I would love to !”
3K notes · View notes
yeojaa · 8 months ago
Text
( NEVER LET YOU GO. )
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You do things without thought, making impulse decisions that’d make Freud proud.  Sometimes they pay off, sometimes they don’t.
(or:  Jeon Jungkook’s just as impulsive as you.)
pairing.  tattoo artist!jjk x f!reader.
genre + rating.  slice of life fluff, light smut.  explicit (but only at the end). 
tags / warnings.  mentions of heavily tattooed!JK, casual drinking, tender lovemakin’, JK with the bad jokes, honestly just him being funny and chill like that one guy you never get over...
wc.  7.6k.
beta reader(s).  @hobi-gif​, @papillonsgf​, and @yeoldontknow​​ 💛 ty for always indulging me and most importantly, supporting me when i begin to spiral. 🤠
author note.  i got this idea into my head one evening in the shower and now... it is this.  it’s not your usual bad boy tattoooist!JK fic but i hope you enjoy regardless.  as always, feedback means a lot! 
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You and forethought aren’t close friends.  You really aren’t even distant cousins, or part of the same family tree.  You consider it a stranger, wave loftily as it passes you by, squinting like you can’t properly make out what it is.  Careful consideration?  Thoughtful patience?  None of that exists for you.  At least, not when you really, really want something. 
It’s what has you here now, bumbling your way into the tattoo shop like a newborn baby bird.  
You wonder how it must look, whether the shop assistant is used to this.  Random girl shows up on a Sunday afternoon looking like a fish out of water, eager yet afraid.  By how she greets you - with a curious stare and not quite a smile - you’re sure she is.  
“Do you take walk-ins?”
You’d meant to make an appointment.  Had sat for hours on the shop’s Instagram page, combing through the residents’ portfolios, trying to decide who to reach out to.  When you’d finally decided, you’d realised books were a thing and most of them were closed.  (Just your luck.)
Still, it never hurt to try, right? 
“Everyone’s fully booked.”  The girl sounds bored, apathetic yet genial.  (You don’t blame her.)  By the way her stare swings over you, it feels like a dismissal.  You’re ready to admit defeat - head half-bowed, words draped over your tongue.  “But our apprentice might be able to squeeze you in.”
An apprentice?  Well— that’s not exactly what you’d been hoping for, but this shop is reputable.  Well-known.  Considered one of the best in the city.  Surely their apprentice would be fine.  Just less seasoned, not as experienced. 
You all but snap your neck nodding along, gratitude tumbling out in the form of awkward laughter.  “That’d be great!”
The girl passes you off with a nod of her head, gesturing down the hall.  “Last room on the left.  His name’s Jungkook.  His schedule says he’s all clear, but maybe knock before you go in.”  It’s not the sunniest smile you’ve ever received, but the small thing she offers helps with the nerves.  Stills them beneath your skin as you do as you’re told. 
“Jungkook?”  There’s not really anywhere to knock, every wall neatly frosted glass and no doors in sight.  (You had passed a few folding screens but otherwise, it’s open concept, each room offering a glimpse into the artist who works inside.)  It feels too disruptive to tap your knuckles on one glass pane, lest it interrupt someone else. 
(His studio is minimally decorated but inviting:  one big cabinet; two of those typical IKEA shelves in the 4x4 grid that every new homeowner and their mother have; and a shop table, upon which a black backpack sits.  Various plants dress the room - both hanging from the ceiling and along the window - and Polaroids string over walls, held aloft by twine.  A Roomba sits by itself in a corner and the tattoo bed dominates most of the space, positioned closer to the dividing wall;  one teeny tiny rolling chair sits beside it.  There’s a bench on your left, with a pair of Birkenstocks tucked beneath.  All in all, very homey.  Reminiscent of your own apartment.) 
Hidden behind the bed, crouched low to the ground beside the cabinet, is a head of dark hair that speaks, drawing your attention from studying the cozy space.  “Oh?”
You’re not expecting the face that turns to you, all big doe eyes and the sweetest dimples. 
For a moment, you forget what you’re here for.  Why you’re standing in the empty door frame, staring down at the guy like you’ve spent your entire life secluded and have no idea how to speak.  
The longer you’re quiet, the more his concern seems to grow, single brow disappearing into his inky fringe.  It hangs in his vision at certain angles, shields the brightness of his stare with each turn of his chin.  “Are you okay?”  He’s even risen - stopped what he was doing - so he can see you more clearly, without any obstruction in the way.  Good for him, but worse for you. 
He’s so cute.  Were you prepared to look like an uncertain idiot in front of this… angel?
“Y-yeah.”  You manage after what feels like forever, sweeping your nerves under the rug that sits on the floor, separates the sole of his sneakers from hard concrete.  “Um— I was told you might have some time?  For, uh, a walk-in?”
(Why’re you stuttering?  You’re never shy.  Or rather, you’re not this nervous mess.  People have always called you an extrovert, outgoing as hell, a social butterfly.)
(You aren’t those things but you appreciate the sentiment nonetheless.)
“Oh!”  Realisation dawns across his features, throws his kind smile into greater relief, and you have to actively tell yourself not to stare, tearing your gaze away to focus on the wall of stencils past his shoulder.  He moves into motion then, stepping around the bed to meet you still rooted in the doorway.  “Yeah, I’ve got time.  Come in.”  Up close like this - there’s only maybe two feet between you - you can make out the little scar on his cheek;  the tiny beauty mark below his bottom lip;  each individual lash that frames his Bambi eyes and flutters when he blinks.  “I probably can’t draw you anything new right now but I’ve got some flash, if you’re interested?”
Even if you weren’t interested, you don’t think you’d say no.  You were always a sucker for a cute boy and this Jungkook?  He was that.  In spades. 
“Sure.”
“Are you looking for anything in particular?”  He’s retreating back into the room, moving to grab his iPad off the far table.  It’s balanced on his arm when he swivels to you, prominent front teeth on full display.  “I’ve got a pretty big selection.” 
When he drops onto the bench - a wayward vine above his head tickling his cheek - he gestures to the spot beside him.  This time, you don’t stare for a stupid amount of time, instead taking up the seat without hesitation. 
“So—”  He’s swiping through the photo library with his Apple Pen.  You’re sure there are pretty sketches on the screen - you just can’t focus on them, too preoccupied by the artwork that crawls across his hand and into the sleeve of his oversized, well-worn shirt.  It’s an intricate chrysanthemum, impossibly well-shaded with bold colours that demand attention and stand out over his fair complexion;  it creeps halfway up the back of his hand to tickle over his knuckles.  He notes your attention with a quiet chuckle, fingers wiggling.  The ink moves, flows, ripples with the motion, before his hand relaxes, knuckles unravelling as he offers the limb to you and your curiosity.  “Do you like it?”
“It’s incredible.”  It really is.  You’ve never seen anything like it, as if a painting has been done across his skin, laid in watercolour rather than tattoo ink.  “Did it hurt?”
(You almost want to hit yourself for the stupid question.  Of course it did.  It’s a hand tattoo.)
Jungkook only laughs again, doesn’t hold it against you despite the verbal barrage you’re faced with internally.  “Like crazy, but it was worth it.  This was my first tattoo and all the rest have just sort of been—”  He shrugs, fabric of his shirt bunching around his collar.  
“A piece of cake?”  You can only imagine.
“Exactly.”
You nod thoughtfully, as if that means anything to you.  (It doesn’t.  You’re bare as a baby’s bottom, blemish free save for the occasional hellish pimple and the scar you have from surgery on your hand when you broke parts of it in sixth grade.)
If he can tell you’re talking out of your ass, he says nothing, redirecting your attention back to the iPad propped on his lap.  “Do any of these interest you?”  He’s resumed scrolling, swiping carefully through pages of flash.  There are assorted floral pieces (plum stems, lily stalks, fully bloomed mums) and various skeletons (what looks like a deer, a dragon, a wolf).  They’re mostly blackwork with fine lines and heavy contrast, so wonderfully detailed you spend too much time studying one piece before he’s flipping to the next.
“That one.”  It catches your eye more than the others have.  Likely because it’s one of the few pieces in colour, soft hues spilling over neat lines.  A pretty little cat with a braided collar, big golden bell centered beneath its head, unravelling petals sweeping around it.
“You like cats?”
You do.  “She looks like mine.”
“It’s settled.”  He beams then, rising so quickly you’re startled;  you watch as he moves around the space with decisive steps, putting your plan into motion.  A paper is pulled seemingly out of nowhere, laid on a wooden clipboard and offered with a blue ballpoint pen.  “If you can fill all of this out, I can get the stencil ready.”
Well, that was easy.  Somehow, you’d thought it’d be more complicated, a ton of back and forth and yes and no.  You can’t deny you’re nervous, staring down at the consent form.  
(It doesn’t mean you read it any more than you normally would, though.  You gloss over all the points, making note of what you’re agreeing to without really considering any of it.  You’ve wanted a tattoo for most of your life.  There’s really no going back now.)
(You just hope it turns out like you want - that you’re not just being blindsided by a sudden superficial crush and a lack of critical thought.)
“I think I’m done,”  you mumble, slashing the date into the paper with gusto.  
“Do you have your ID?”  You’ve got it ready for him when he returns to take both it and the form.  “I’m just going to make copies and then we can discuss more.”
He’s gone with that same smile, disappearing back the way you’d come. 
Alone, the nerves set in.  You’re actually doing this.  Getting a tattoo.  Putting something permanent on your body.  It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once, shaking your hands in your lap.  Maybe you should’ve eaten more before you’d come.  (You’d woken up late - had only shoved two pieces of raisin pinwheel bread into your mouth before you’d made up your mind about this.) 
(But had you really made up your mind?  Was this going to be it?  It feels mostly like yes, though the repetitive thud of your toe against concrete seems to indicate otherwise.  It’s as if you’re tapping out something in morse, telling yourself—)
“Okay!”  Jungkook’s back before you know it, driver’s license returned to you along with an unsealed envelope.  You eye it curiously.  “A copy of your form and an aftercare sheet.”  
He’s really thought of everything.  Or the shop has.  Either way, you appreciate that when you’re not so sure, caught somewhere between giddily excited and vaguely worried, as if someone’s pulled a weight off your shoulders, taken on some of the burden of this spontaneous choice.
“So, where do you want it?”  It’s like he has a one track mind, utterly focused on the task at hand.  (Probably a good thing, given you’re about to voluntarily let him needle your poor skin.) 
You hadn’t thought about that.  You’d always liked the idea of a back of the arm tattoo, positioned somewhere along your tricep so it could be seen while turned away.  “My arm?”
“Upper?  Forearm?”  There’s not an ounce of annoyance or exasperation or anything else negative.  He’s just genuinely curious, peering over his shoulder at you. 
“Tricep area, I think?  Would that look good?”
“If you like it, it will.”  Then he grins - beams so bright you half expect the sun to come zooming out of his mouth - and laughs, a funny little cackle that makes you do the same.  “I’m kidding.  That was cheesy.  But I’m sure it’ll look fine.  We can try laying it down first, so you get an idea?” 
“That sounds good.”  A lot better than endless years of regret for poor placement. 
“You’ll, uh— need to take your shirt off though.”
It’s then you realise your mistake:  wearing a turtleneck.  “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
A beat of silence passes, then another, and he smiles so kindly you wonder what your expression must look like.  Sour, like you’d sucked fresh lemon?  Awkward, as if you’d never worn anything less than double layers before (a proud Never Nude)? 
“If you’re uncomfortable, we can reschedule.  Or I can put a divider up so you don’t have to worry about being seen from outside.  Whatever you’d prefer.” 
The longer you stay quiet - a seemingly common occurrence today - the closer his brows furrow, preparations coming to a standstill.  You can tell he’s not trying to rush you, politely waiting for an answer with transfer paper in one hand and scissors in the other.  
(If only he could peek into your brain, see the whole reason you’re hesitating is because you can’t quite remember which bra you’re wearing, whether it’s the slinky black one that offers absolutely zero support or the lacy blue one with the cute detailing and practically see-through cups.)
(Did it really matter either way?  He was probably desensitized.)  
“It’s fine.”  You find the confidence somehow, nodding firmly.  Jungkook’s still studying you carefully, though.  Waiting as you strip your purse off your shoulder and reach for the hem of your sweater.  It feels funny in your fingers, more like steel wool than sheep’s.
One breath.  Two. 
You fold your turtleneck neatly, laying it beside your bag and turning back to face him.  “All right.  Let’s do this.” 
“So, which arm?”  He’s close now - crossed to you in two strides of his long legs - and holds up the stencil.  
Your right rises, fingers wiggling as if to say hello. 
He lays the design down, pats it into place with deft fingers.  You don’t realise the breath you’re holding until he pulls the sticky paper away, leaving neat line work in its wake.
“Oh.”  It slips out of its own accord, almost a whisper as you stare at the design in the mirror.  “It’s so pretty.” 
There’s pride in his eyes as he stares with you, bounces his gaze between it and your face.  “Thanks.”  He lets you linger, peering thoughtfully at your reflection before speaking, casually hopeful.  “What do you think?”
“This is it.  Right here.”
Maybe he’d fist pump, if he were any less cool.  As it stands, he simply nods, cheeks round like fresh baked bread, nose scrunched with glee. 
“All right.  We’ll shave you down and get started.  You like the colours, right?”  Once again, he’s buzzing around the room, gathering up all his materials and snapping black gloves on once everything is laid out upon his cart.  It’s heavily stickered, covered in video game vinyls and anime mattes.  (You recognise a handful of them, make a note to ask him where he got them from.)  He pats the tissue papered bed top when you make no movement toward him.  “Hop on up.  Face down, if that’s okay.”
You do as he says, climbing atop with minimal grace.  It takes you a bit of adjusting to get comfortable, folding your left arm under your head and allowing your right to simply dangle, uncertain of where it should be.  
“You’re sparkly.”
“What?”  You’d misheard that, right? 
“Your skin.  You’re sparkling.”  He sounds a little in awe, surprised as wetness spills across your arm, the edge of a razor following closely thereafter.  
“Oh.”  Heat creeps over your cheeks, slinks all the way up into your roots and has you chuckling awkwardly.  “It’s my soap.” 
“Sparkle soap?”  Whether he’s just making conversation or genuinely curious, you’re not sure.  He does seem delighted by the fact, though, as if he’s never seen a girl covered in glitter before.  (Which, fair.) 
“It’s this specialty holiday soap.  It has pigment in it.” 
“That’s cool.”  He’s laying the stencil down again, smoothing it over your now-hairless arm.  “It smells nice.”
Obviously, you agree.  It’s honey and citrus, brightly fragrant but not overpowering, lingering on your clothes like the subtle golden glitter does.  Still, you flush, heat crossing from a casual day under the sun to burning-on-the-stove hot.  “Thanks.” 
“Was that weird?  I hope not.”
“No, you’re fine.” 
He hums a tiny noise, something that sounds like understanding and appreciation all at once.  
Then the buzzing starts - a steady, inescapable brrrrrrrrr - and he’s gripping your arm, steady yet gentle.  “Ready?” 
Honestly, you’re not sure.  Hearing the noise makes it seem scary, has your entire body tensing up like Pavlov’s dog.  Your honesty can’t be helped, a nervous giggle chased off your tongue.  “I think so.” 
“I think so too.”
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By the time you’re done - a good almost five hours later, your arm stinging so bad you wonder why you’d ever sat down in the first place - you’d fallen asleep twice, started drooling on your other arm once, and really, really have to pee. 
“All right—”“  The incessant buzzing stops.  Liquid spills where the pain centres, followed by rougher paper towel.  “You are finished.”
(You might be imagining it, but he sounds about as relieved as you.  Maybe because you’d been sitting for hours on hours, turning down his offer for a break because you just wanted to get it done and therefore forcing him to do the same.) 
“Can I see?”  You don’t want to leap to your feet - feel a bit too lightheaded for that - but you’re bouncing with excitement, the thrumming in your arm intensified when you shift to catch a better look at Jungkook’s face. 
“Yeah, go ahead.  Just be careful - you might be a bit—”
He’s right.  You nearly topple over the moment you stand, none-too-gently rolling off the edge of the bed and barely landing safely on your feet.  It’s only his close proximity that prevents you from falling to your knees, one degloved hand darting out to steady you. 
“Careful!”  It’s politely reproachful, coloured soft with worry.  
“Sorry, sorry.”  You seize the edge of the bed, gripping tight as you wait for everything to settle, the lightheadedness to recede.  Everything straightens out quickly enough.  “Got up too quickly.”
“Do you need a snack?”  He’s already up, moving faster than you, rummaging through the cabinet against the far wall.  “I’ve got seaweed and Choco Boys and shrimp chips and—”
You can’t help but laugh, hobbling to the mirror to inspect your new piece of art.  “I’m fine.”  That, and you’re too occupied with the ink that now sits embedded beneath your skin, a flurry of lovely colour and impressive line work.
“Choco Boys it is then.”  The familiar yellow package is thrust toward you, a pack of his own already ripped open.  Mushroom-shaped treats are tossed into his open mouth, lips curling around chocolate and his next words,  “it’ll help with your sugar levels.”
A thank you comes, fingers curling around the snacks, but you’re still in deep, so focused on the lovely hue that bleeds over your skin, marks up previously unblemished flesh and holds your attention.  It’s better than you could’ve possibly imagined, a piece of artwork forever yours.  It makes you giddy as you stare at it - almost reach for it, but stop when you catch the alarmed widening of Jungkook’s eyes.  
“You like?”  
“I love.”  You’d stare at it for hours, if you could.  Likely will, once you get home, sitting in front of the mirror like a zombie.  “Thank you so, so much.”
The brunet beams as he polishes off the last of his Choco Boys, tossing his dark hair back with a flick of his head.  Triumph rolls off him in palpable waves, sitting pretty in the lines by his eyes, the scrunching around his nose.  Seeing how it blooms in his stare is like a straight endorphin shot, as if you’ve done more than just be the canvas he’s laid all his hard work into.  “It was a pleasure.”
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It’s a whole month later - enough time for the piece to heal - before you decide you want another one.  It’s not as spontaneous as the first time, instead led with an Instagram direct message to @jeonink.  (You half expect him not to answer;  you’re utterly delighted when he responds not five minutes later.) 
Maybe it’s fate or maybe it’s luck that has him with availability the same day you reach out, bringing you back to the studio three hours after you’ve messaged him.
He’s just as cute as before, black baseball cap pulled low over his ears, silver-lined ears twinkling beneath the shop lights.  
“So, what’re you thinking?”  
Truthfully, you hadn’t done much thinking.  Just like before, you’d decided you wanted a tattoo and, well, the rest had been history.  You figured you’d let him have free reign, given how happy you were with your first piece.  “A sleeve?”
That surprises him.  His whole face lights up, eyes wide, mouth rounding curiously.  “Like, a full sleeve?”  It’s not necessarily a no - more of an are you sure? he hides between the syllables.
“I think so.”
He nods slowly, knowingly, arms folded over his chest, expression suddenly unreadable.  “You caught the itch.”
Your own features twist, brows shooting high.  “The what?”
“The tattoo itch,”  he clarifies with a laugh, the sound sweeping your concern away like the sea.  “People say once you get one, you get addicted to the feeling.”  He’s extending both arms to you now, hands palm up.  For a moment, you’re note sure what he’s doing.  (In actuality, you’re distracted by the fact that he’s in a tee, muscle cording his limbs, undulating as he turns his arms over.)  “I got bit by it when I lived in Japan.  It’s actually what got me into tattooing myself.”
You remember what he’d said last time - how he’d spent a handful of years overseas, working in restaurants after having followed his last partner there.  He’d shared lots about his life, giving you the Sparknotes version while you’d ground enamel to fine dust.  
“I guess I have the itch then.”
“Guess you do.”  
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Your dream comes to life in four excruciating sessions.  It’s some of the worst pain you’ve ever endured (you’re never going to get an elbow tattoo ever again) but you’d do it all again in a heartbeat, utterly in love with the mural that now lives on your skin.  A peony caps your shoulder while one runs halfway up your bicep.  Another takes up the entirety of your forearm.  There’s a darling little bird and delicately inked koi.  It’s breathtaking, greater than anything you could have dreamt up.  
You’ve been staring at it for at least three minutes now, tracing over the freshly laid colour with a tender touch.  You’re grateful for the SecondSkin, the clear bandage that wraps everything up and keeps it safe from your over eager hands.
“You did it.”  Jungkook’s grinning at you, feet kicked up where he sits, his usual bag of Choco Boys balanced in his lap.  “Big girl.”
From anyone else, it might sound condescending - might rub you the wrong way and have you glaring daggers.  Instead, you take it in stride, beaming at him from your seat.  He’s been there with you every step of the way, been there for every hour (seventeen over three months, to be exact) you’ve dedicated to finishing this beauty up.  Tease you as he might, you know he really is proud of you.  
“You mean we did it,”  you return, giddy like a child.  
“Ah, right.”  The chocolate-covered snack he’s devouring goes crunch crunch crunch before he speaks, mouth still full, eyes crinkled.  “I guess I did do all the work.”
“Hey!  Screw you!”  You’re glowering at him, middle finger raised in defiance.  
(How curious that your relationship has grown like this, turned from tattoo artist and client to what feels like more.  It probably makes sense, given the long hours you’ve spent together, the support he’s had to offer each time the pain has gotten this side of too much, chattering your teeth and dizzying your head.  Solidarity in pain and all that.)
(You really had tapped out once, when he’d crept his gun into the ditch of your elbow.  You’d asked him whether it’d hurt beforehand and he’d only laughed, shrugged off the question and continued with the careful shading to your inner arm.  That in itself had hurt like a biiitch;  you hadn’t thought it could get worse.)
(You’d been mistaken.)
“Am I wrong?”  He drawls, full of laughter and that big dumb smile of his you’ve grown accustomed to.  It eats up his cheeks and disappears his eyes, makes it hard to be mad at him when he looks so sweet.  
“Yes, you are.”  You’ve got absolutely nothing to back it up, but who cares.  This is the sort of banter the two of you have developed, like two old friends forced to spend too much time together.  (Not that you’d complain.  You’ve loved hearing his stories, all the tales he regales you with whenever you’re in his chair.)
A snort is his answer, the full roll of his eyes over-exaggerated and playful.  “You’re lucky we’re all finished or I’d sneak in an ugly fish somewhere on your arm.”
You think he’s kidding - know he takes too much pride in his work to do that.
Still, you stick your tongue out, hopping down from the bed with your freshly inked arm, hands clapping together in celebration.  “You wouldn’t dare.”  You’re confident, crossing to the bench to tug your flannel on, careful of the dull pain that throbs beneath the thin medical dressing.  
“Wouldn’t I?  I’m leaving anyway.”
You’re ready to call him out for it, insist he would never ruin the sanctity of his profession in such a way, when you realise the words he’s spoken, the casual tidbit he’s just dropped like it’s nothing.
“Leaving?”  
(Is it you or do you sound disappointed?  You can’t dwell on it for long, worried you’ll miss his explanation.  Had he mentioned it previously?  Slipped it in when you’d been delirious from pain?  No, you would’ve remembered that.  You swear you would’ve.)
“I’m moving to Tokyo.”  How he’s so casual, you have absolutely no idea.  You suppose it’s not a big deal for him - he’s not from here anyway.  Home is back in Korea, the place he’d spent most of his life before moving to Japan and then here, just two years ago.  (God, your memory is good.  If only you’d retained knowledge like this when you were in school.)  “My flight’s next weekend.”
Your face must be hilarious because Jungkook’s laughing, cackling like the evil villain in an anime.  
“Gonna miss me?”  
Would it be inappropriate to say yes?  Because you will, you realise the moment he’s posed the question.  You’ve grown to consider him a friend, someone who you send random memes to on Instagram (usually pertaining to #tattooartistproblems or one of your shared hobbies, like video games and finding the best noodle soup restaurant in the city).  
You go for the safe bet, answering with a question of your own.  “Are you gonna miss me?”
“I’ll miss your restaurant recs,”  he answers, offering honesty to your reticence.  “You can still send me funny photos though.”  
You can’t help your laugh, the tiny quirk of your mouth into a smile.  “I guess you’re right.  Will you still be tattooing?”  It’s an innocent enough question - you really do want to know.  You can’t imagine going to anyone else, even if it means you’ll be shelling out an absurd amount of money for a plane ticket.
“Yep, new shop.”  Something twinkles in his stare, has him giddy as he rises to his feet, tossing his empty packet of snacks into the trash bin.  “Actually, where I got most of mine done.”  You understand it then - that it’s a move of faith.  He’s finally come full circle.  You’re unbelievably happy for him, brimming with delight to mirror his pride.  
But you’re still going to give him a little bit of a hard time because you have to.  It wouldn’t feel right otherwise.  “Whoa, big shot.”
“I am actually,”  he sniffs, raking an ink-strewn hand through his hair.  It’s longer now than it was when you met him, curling over the tops of his ears, hanging in his eyes at every turn.  “You’ll be lucky if I remember you when I’m famous.”
“Famously lame, maybe,”  you tease, slipping your bag over your shoulder.  You busy yourself pulling your keys from the interior pocket, checking your phone as if you’re ready to go.  It’s only when you’re standing in the hallway - you have no real intention of departing like this and he knows that, considering you haven’t paid yet - when you level him with a half-formed smirk.  “But I guess I should take you for a drink?”  
His hoodie is on before you know it, yanked over his head and tugged into place as he joins you.  It’s become your regular routine - leaving together after your sessions, a perk of always booking the last slot he has available.  (Not that you relied on that, but simply because your work schedule didn’t really allow for anything else.)  “Obviously.”
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Jeon Jungkook is a talented artist, a dedicated snacker, a lover of the colour black.  You discover, sitting on the patio of the nearby bar, that he’s also really, really good at holding his liquor.  
(Not that he’d ever indicated otherwise.)
“Do you think you’ll get anything else done?”  He’s on his sixth pint, casually leaned back in his chair as he picks at the fries you’d ordered but that he seems perfectly happy to help himself to.  (Payback for all the times he’s forced snacks on you maybe?)  “Like, a face tattoo?”
You scoff at the question as if greatly offended.  “You think I’d get a face tattoo?”  
While a little glazed in the eyes, you can tell he’s altogether coherent, grinning across the table at you.  “Hey, I don’t judge.  You like making surprise decisions, so I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Okay, so he’s got you there.  Used your own impulsive history against you.  “I would never.”  
“If you change your mind, do I get first dibs?”
“Dibs on what?  Tattooing me?”
He nods as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world.  “Duh.”
You can only roll your eyes, tossing a wayward burnt fry end at him.  “Yes, Kook, you get first dibs on ruining my face.”
His expression twists, mouth shaping around words he’s keeping caged behind his teeth.  There’s something he isn’t saying, a comeback he’s chosen to lock up.  You wonder what it is.
“Hey - nothing wrong with face tattoos.”  
“Really?”  You’re leaning forward, a clear challenge written across your face.  “Then why don’t you have one?”  He has a million others as it is:  a hand, nearly the entirety of both arms, his chest, his shoulders, one of his legs.  (You haven’t seen them all in person but you have seen them online, memorialised on his Instagram feed.)  
“And hide all this?”  One inked hand is gesturing toward his own face, gesticulating wildly as if that’ll drive his point further home.  “I would never.”
“That’s what I said!”
It doesn’t matter to him, not when he’s fully sober and most certainly not now, when he’s slightly buzzed, eyes glossier than usual.  “But I’m cuter.  It’d be a shame if it were me.  You…”  The way he trails off is suggestive, indicative of something mocking and mean.  (Except it’s never cruel - far too friendly and soft to ever hurt your feelings.)  “—not so much.”
Another fry hits him right between the eyes and then another disappears into the hood of his sweater, lost to the black fabric that bunches up around his neck and hides the flush he’s been battling since you two got to the bar an hour ago.
“Don’t be rude!”  
He beams at you then, so unnecessarily endearing you can only throw one more piece at him. 
“I’m kidding.”  You knew that already but pretend to ignore the pseudo-apology, choosing instead to polish off the last of your now-cold fries.  A bad choice, you realise when he continues, surprising you with the words that come out of his liquor-laden mouth so much so that you almost choke.  “You’re actually pretty cute.”
(So what if you’ve sort of maybe been waiting to hear them?  Wondering if the tiny crush you’d developed was in some way reciprocated?)
(Not that this meant it was.  Only that you perhaps weren’t alone in thinking he was the most lovable - and somehow simultaneously hot - person you’d ever met.  It’s almost rewarding to know the long hours together hadn’t left him unscathed.)
“You all good?”  The look on his face is worse than that smile he usually offers, instead a devilish smirk that makes him look like Satan himself.  
Were you?  You’re not sure.
“I can’t believe you just said that.”
“Really?  You can’t?”  You’re not sure what that means, whether you’re simply reading too far into it.  But then he’s dragging his bottom lip through his teeth, head cocked curiously.  It’s a bait, you realise—and one you’ll gladly take.
“Should I have expected it?”
Shoulders hike, rising up around his ears.  “I thought I made it sort of obvious.”  
Had he?  Thinking back on it, you can’t really recall.  Of course, he’d always been friendly, indulging you in your pursuit of body art, sketching up the loveliest things you’d never even think to dream of;  accepting your distracting Instagram messages without complaint, always tossing you a like or some sort of acknowledgement no matter what you’d send (and you’d send some random, random stuff).  Chatting with him daily had just become the norm, conversation flowing freely whenever you’d pop in for your next session.
But that was just because he was a nice guy - or so you’d thought.  You realise now how wrong you’d been, too occupied with your own crush to notice his (if it could be called that).
“You like me,”  you hum, surprisingly nonchalant despite the little pitter patter in your chest, the flutter of your heart within your ribcage.  
“I think you’re cute,”  he retorts, though there’s no real weight to his rebuff.  The two statements are really one and the same and you’re giddy with the knowledge, absolutely tickled pink.
Except for the fact that he’s leaving, fully prepared to start a new life in another city in just one week.  The irony isn’t lost on you, like fate’s laughing even as she offers you this little crumb.  (You feel like Oliver Twist, frankly.)
“Same difference.”
He huffs - you’re reminded of how adorable he is when he does that - and downs the lukewarm remainder of his beer.  “I take it back.”
“No, you don’t.”  Where the confidence comes from, who knows.  You grip it tight with both hands though, hold it snugly as you level him with a stare that has his own unwavering.  It’s almost as if you’re caught in a staring match, a battle of unspoken wits. 
It drags on longer than it should, just the two of you locked to each other with nowhere to go. 
Then he does the last thing you expect:  shoves his chair aside and leans across the table, stealing a kiss and returning to his seat, all in the span of time it takes you to blink.  
(His lips are so soft.  A little chapped, a tiny bit dry, but soft - deceptively delicate.  Bitter, touched with sea salt and something else distinctly him.  French fries and beer and his Chapstick.) 
(For the briefest moment, you wonder whether you’d just imagined it - if your imagination had truly gotten the best of you and you’ve absolutely lost your mind.) 
“You just kissed me.”  It seems like you’ve found your new favourite hobby of just repeating things, giving live play-by-plays like an awkward narrator in a romcom.  
“Yeah, so?”
“You’re leaving.”  Speaking the words into existence feels bad;  you see the way his eyes tighten, the subtle sobering of his expression even while he tries to keep his cool.  
“I am.”  At least he’s realistic.  It saves you from any uncertainty, keeping the what-ifs at bay. 
You suppose it means you have nothing to lose. 
“Do it again.”
And Jungkook does - over and over, sinking the taste of him almost as deeply as ink, offering a piece of himself you want to keep for just as long.  
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It takes you longer to add to your collection of art, nearly four whole years before you decide what you want next.  (It’s a back piece this time - a full body suit from your shoulders down past your ass.  Another cat, dressed in traditional Japanese clothing and surrounded by flowers.  An ode to your first tattoo, to the one that had started it all.)
(You’re not sure you’re ready for the pain, though.)
“Lay down,”  the artist instructs, back turned to you, busy preparing his materials.  You’d stripped down while he was occupied, discarded all your clothes to the allocated basket and stood quietly in anticipation. 
You do as he says, dropping atop the tattoo bed with a quiet oof.  The stencil has already been laid, the entire outline ready to be inked into your skin.  You can’t deny you’re more than a little nervous.  It’s been years since you’d last gotten anything done, uninterested in finding a new artist since Jungkook had left. 
(Which he had, exactly as he’d intended, gone on a 6 AM flight that you’d driven him to, teary-eyed and embarrassed.  He’d laughed at you standing outside of the departure gate, his suitcase at his side, arms wrapped around your shoulders.  You’d refused to show your face, burying it instead into the warmth of his neck, into the familiar scent of him that was going away for who knows how long.
“Stop being a baby,”  he’d said, smothering you in kisses, the full weight of his laughter palpable through your close proximity.  It'd rumbled out of his chest all the way into yours, finding a home behind your ribcage, right alongside where your heart fluttered, shaded blue and sad.
“Stop being mean,”  you’d countered, petulant like a child.
It couldn’t be helped.  You’d had only one week with him - one glorious, chaotic week filled with eating too much junk, rewatching your favourite animes, and generally making up for all the lost time you’d never even known there was.  As amazing as it’d been, it still hadn’t prepared you for the goodbye.
That was your fault, though.  You’d wrongly entertained the idea that maybe things would work out, that he’d change his mind or ask to take it - whatever you had, that is - with him, keep it going somehow.  He hadn’t.)
“Do you have a preference where I start?”  You’re unbothered, hair loosely knotted over your shoulder.  Ready for the session to start - ready to feel the familiar sting again.  (You’re proud of that.  It might have taken you years and years but here you were, tackling something huge.)
“Nope.”  
“Sounds good.”
The buzzing begins and pressure lands upon the small of your back, a gloved hand laid over the centre of your spine.  You remind yourself to breathe in, out, focus on something other than the pain that fizzles over your skin and then ebbs into tenderness.  Where he’s started - just above the fattiest part of your butt - isn’t too bad.  Tolerable and yielding.
You can do this.
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Your back aches in a different way than you’d anticipated, soreness buzzing beneath inflamed skin and making it uncomfortable to move around.  It’s not any worse than your arm had been - the lines along your spine had felt comparable to that of your elbow - but it’s fresh, not dulled by years like your sleeve now was.
The artist is stripping his gloves off, your back neatly covered and the bed stripped of its original tissue paper.  He’s leaned against the sink, onigiri held in his now-free hands, nibbling at the edge of the rice ball as you turn this way and that in the mirror.  “You did good.”
You’re still undressed, admiring the linework from different angles, shimmying closer to your reflection to catch the lighter inking that makes up the undefined edges of the various florals.  Something tells you that you should be shy - eager to redress after spending nearly five hours naked in the secluded studio - but you don’t care.  Your back is quickly becoming a masterpiece, something that might as well be hung in the halls of the Louvre.  You’re in love with it.
“Thanks.”
You mean thank you for his compliment but also for all his hard work, the long hours he’s put into bringing this beauty to life.  It means so much - like progressing to the next level.  
Which, you suppose it is.  This is a fresh start for you.  A new beginning in a new city.  
“Proud of you,”  he hums, suddenly close, broad palms searing heat over your hips.  He’s careful to avoid the edge of the bandage that wraps your back and holds you delicately, like fine china or the most precious jewel in the world, lips sweet against your temple.  
You meet his eyes in the mirror - the same sweet doe-eyed stare from five years ago.  A little darker now, aged by the hand of time but endlessly kind, shining beneath the overhead lights.
“Proud of you,”  you chirp, identical smiles spreading over your faces.  
Jungkook’s having none of it though, bratty as usual.  “Proud of us.”
You suppose you can settle for that.  You really are proud of the two of you - for how far you’ve made it and all the obstacles you’ve overcome.  From the first few weeks of sadness, all the melancholy that’d set in when he’d left, to exactly one month after, when he’d called you in the middle of the night, drunk and stumbling home.  
(It’d been infuriating at the time - incoherent and foolish as he was - but it’d bloomed something between you, something neither of you could ignore.)
Four years of miserable long distance had become this:  a love that's brought you back to his side, to a city you’re unfamiliar with but that he calls home; to a city that never sleeps, loud with pachinko machines and some of the best food you’ve ever had;  to the place you’ve been missing every minute you were apart.  
You’d never thought you would move for someone, uproot your entire life for a relationship, but he’d changed that.  Made it worth it in ways you had never considered.  Convinced you more and more with each trip you’d taken, two visits twice a year, for a measly two weeks at a time.
“Should we head home?”  He means your physical home - the apartment the two of you had decided on in Roppongi, the one you haven’t seen yet, that he’s had to move into all by himself.  It’s not quite as nice as the home in his arms.  
You say yes anyway.
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“I’m so talented.”  The words come entirely too whole for your liking, loud somewhere above your head.
“Are you serious?”  You’re levelling your boyfriend with the most incredulous look, whole face scrunched up, hands fisted into his dark sheets.  It’s uncomfortable at this angle - kinking your neck as you look over your shoulder - but you really can’t believe he’s just said that.  He’s knelt between your legs, knees spread wide around his own, his hand halfway up your back and tracking heat over your spine.  
Somehow, he has the audacity to look surprised.  “What?”
“You’re really patting yourself on the back right now?”  Now, when he should be pounding you into oblivion, working that big fat cock of his through your fluttering walls, making you moan his name into his pillows like it’s his only job? 
(It truthfully could be.  You’d rank his skills in the bedroom on par with his skills in the studio.)
“Oh.”  All at once, he’s the devil - sin personified. Or would be, if he didn’t somehow still look infuriatingly cute.
The gentle touch turns bruising, heel of his palm pressed hard into the tender notches of your spine.  “You don’t like when I admire my own work?”  Asked as he shifts behind you, length dragging out of your dripping cunt to gently tap against your aching clit.  The head of it glides through your folds, mercilessly teasing but never slipping back in, never filling you whole like you need.  (Because you really do need it.  You haven’t seen him in six months, left to your own devices - literally.)  It feels like heaven and hell, too good and not nearly enough all at once. 
“Kook,”  you snap. Try to, anyway, his name far too whiny and breathless to hold any real weight.
“I’m just admiring you, sweetheart.”  He’s dragging the hand over your back, tracing all the lines he’s embedded into your skin.  They make up his favourite piece, inked permanently into his favourite canvas.  A testament to his hard work, his dedication, his love.
Any other time, you might not care.  Here and now, after not having felt his touch in what feels like forever, you’re burning from the inside out, a million volts of electricity tripping your circuits.  When you speak, it’s more a plea than a reprimand, uttered so sweetly you know he can’t deny you. “Admire me later.”  
“I’ve missed you” is his only answer, punctuated by a fluid roll of his hips, the heavy press of his cock back into your dripping cunt.  “I’ve missed this,”  he breathes out, sinking all the way in, so slow you can feel every ridge and vein as he fills you.  
“Missed you too,”  you parrot back, a little delirious now that you’ve gotten what you want.  
Now that he’s right where he should be - with you.
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