Tumgik
#bts rockstar
taexual · 7 months
Text
sleepwalking ● 1 | jjk
Tumblr media
summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.
pairing: jungkook x fem!reader
genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers / fluff / angst / smut (in later chapters)
warnings: explicit language, suggestive themes, SLOW BURN
words: 7.5k
Tumblr media
chapter 1 ► when i open my eyes to the future, i can hear you say my name
Tumblr media
There was virtually not a single person left on the entire fourth floor of the company building, despite it being a Monday afternoon. Normally, two other managers worked in offices adjacent to yours, so the noise in the hallways never settled below a pleasant hum: producers, promoters, and publicists – the three cursed Ps – shuffled in and out, heels clicking urgently against the marble floor.
This funeral silence was unusual, but you knew it was only a calm before the storm.
Rated Riot were going on their first-ever European tour in two days to promote their sophomore album – named aptly, “ready, set, RIOT” – and today was the final day of meetings. Evidently, the executives at Jett Records assumed that the band deserved to have a whole floor to themselves, so everyone else got a half-day, leaving you and the Floor Administrator, Rue, all by yourselves until the band got here.
This unsettling silence was exactly why you heard them arrive as soon as the door of the building opened four floors below. Rated Riot lived up to their name by making themselves heard before they were seen.
As soon as the sharp ding! of the elevator reached you in your office—your door was always open on meeting days, because the four members of one of the most promising rock bands in the world at the moment lacked any sense of direction—you could immediately feel the atmosphere lighten, the previous silence long gone.
“Rue! The apple of my eye!” Hoseok, the drummer and the de facto mood setter of Rated Riot, exclaimed as you listened to the familiar sounds of the band as they exited the elevator and, based on the repeated clicking of shoes in the lobby, momentarily got disoriented.
“Always looking good, Rue!” Jungkook, the vocalist, as well as the new Golden Boy of Jett Records followed after.
“Good to see you again,” Taehyung, the always well-mannered bassist, said. Silence followed and you assumed he shook Rue’s hand.
“Hello,” Yoongi, who was, technically, the guitarist of the band, but, really, played any instrument he could get his hands on, was the last to speak. He’d always been very well-spoken in songwriting, but quieter and more careful in most everyday conversations.
“Welcome, guys,” Rue greeted them. You couldn’t see any of them from where your office was located, but you’ve been in a similar situation countless times before and you could imagine what was happening without needing to witness it first-hand.
Rue would stand up from her seat and point her right hand down the hallway, reminding them—yet again—that they needed to walk down the hall and take a right turn. The members of Rated Riot, in turn, would walk down the hall. At least one of the four of them would turn left instead, causing a pause as the group gathered back together, exchanging confused glances. Then, they would turn back to Rue—who would still be standing there, her right hand extended like a helpful Statue of Liberty. They’d laugh at themselves, nod at Rue, and take the correct turn.
If things were going well, they’d find your office on first try—they’d just need to find the open door and peer inside; your desk was right in front. More often than not, however, they stumbled around, knocking and chuckling to themselves as they continuously interrupted the offices of everyone else, but you.
They were special. Not just because they looked like loose ducklings, separated from the Mother Duck, whenever they entered the company building, but also because, in spite of their own lack of coordination, they still managed to get things done.
And they brightened the day of everyone they came across. Which was almost ironic—as you realised by watching the four of them enter your office—considering the effortless rockstar aura that surrounded them.
Jungkook walked in first. That was typical because he usually did: sometimes because he was the only one who remembered where your office was, but usually because the other members offered him as a sacrificial lamb when they went knocking around every office on the floor in search of yours.
He was dressed in all-black—always—adorned with silver chains and necklaces that often gave you a start when you looked up, because he had a very specific way of entering the room: he seemed to make sure to position himself in just a way that the light, coming in from the window behind you, always reflected off his jewellery and momentarily blinded you.
Sure enough, you blinked, cringing into yourself as the brightness hit your eyes, and when you opened them again, he was already grinning.
“Hi,” he said and the rest of the members followed in after him—a brighter palette of colours.
Even Yoongi, who was the only one who could have given Jungkook a run for his money if you had to count which one had more black items of clothing in their closet, was wearing a beige, loosely buttoned shirt.
Despite that, however, you could tell they were rock artists as soon as you looked at them—all tattoos, piercings, intense eye make-up behind sunglasses, and old band tees—and you stood up, excited to let them know that, finally, every last loose thread had been found and tightened. They’d get to introduce their artistry on a different continent, and you’d make sure it’d go smoothly.
“We’re leaving for Prague tomorrow morning,” you told them once the five of you settled down at the round table in the back of your office. “So, if you were planning a going away party, I strongly advise against it.”
“We weren’t,” Yoongi said, lifting his glass of lemon water—there was a jug on the table—and giving you a reassuring look. “This is the strongest drink I’m having tonight.”
“Thanks,” you said paradoxically enough, but being grateful when the members of the band you managed didn’t get drunk before an important day was part of the job. “I’d also appreciate it if—”
“Hold on a second, though,” Jungkook interrupted—you’d been anticipating it. “I’m going to a gig tonight, Reconnaissance are in town again. And there’s obviously an after-party—”
Despite Reconnaissance being, arguably, one of the most popular rock bands in the world right now, you were definite when you cut him off, “No.”
“—so, I—wait. No?” he paused. “I never miss their shows, you know that. And I don’t get drunk easily. You know that, too.”
“That’s why you drink so much,” you rebutted. The rest of the band members got their phones out, knowing well enough at this point that this would take a while. “And then I have to come get you out of trouble.”
“You absolutely do not have to do that,” Jungkook insisted. “We’ve been through this.”
“Have we?” you argued. “Because I keep telling you it’s my job to keep you from passing out in a dirty bar bathroom, but you don’t care enough to hear me.”
“Well, you’re not very convincing. What’s the worst that can happen? I’ll wake up again.”
You were used to having this conversation with him—you’ve argued about this way before he became a singer and you ended up as his manager. And yet, the lax way he said this made you clench your fists.
Despite being mostly introverted, Jungkook did enjoy getting drinks with friends: even if said friends enjoyed his celebrity status more than they enjoyed the drinks.
“And if you don’t?” you threatened. “Rated Riot’s vocalist gets his stomach pumped. A catchy headline.”
“Yeah, man,” Hoseok interjected, putting his phone screen down on the table and crossing his arms. “Doesn’t go well with the vibe we’re going for. Don’t get your stomach pumped.”
“Fine, I—”
“What he meant was, don’t drink so much that you’d need your stomach pumped,” you clarified because Jungkook moonlighted as a Loophole Finder.
“I never have!” he insisted. “Seriously, you treat me like I’m still nineteen. Have some faith.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the other members of the group look up from their phones. The band had only formed a few years ago, so you were the only person in this room who knew what Jungkook was like when he was nineteen. You never spoke about it – that was likely why everyone was so curious.
In any case, Jungkook was wrong. You did have faith—that’s why you spent so many of your off-duty nights driving down deserted streets to pick him up after his asshole friends convinced him it was a good idea to try the biker bar on the outskirts of town, and he’d gotten in an altercation with a burly redneck that was twice his size.
There was no time for that now, not when he was supposed to be on stage in Prague in three days.
“Well,” Taehyung spoke up. “I was thinking of going to the show as well. Not so much the after-party, I have better plans. But, uh, I could come, after all.”
You appreciated the offer, but you knew that these better plans involved him spending time with his girlfriend, Luna, who was going to join him for a few weeks of the European tour, but after that, the two of them were going to be apart for several months.
“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” you said, not trying very much to hide the hopeful undertones in your voice. Jungkook’s friends felt intimidated by all the members of Rated Riot; they’d be on their best behaviour if Taehyung was there.
“No, I think it might be fun,” Taehyung said. You exhaled quietly and he could sense your gratitude without words. He turned to his younger bandmate. “Should we go together?”
Jungkook groaned and mumbled under his breath, “not if I have to third-wheel again.”
“When have you ever third-wheeled anyone?” you asked rhetorically, but he was already opening his mouth to reply. Quickly, you added, “be careful, is what I’m saying, okay? I am complaining about having to pick you up from all kinds of holes, but if you need me to bring NDAs, I will bring them. So, ask.”
Jungkook rolled his eyes, but chose to stay quiet. He knew better now – the one time he did not make anyone sign a non-disclosure agreement after an impromptu, drunken busking session in New York, pictures of him, half-dressed and giving a lap dance to a random, equally as drunk, groupie, were on every rock page on Instagram. Accompanied with detailed retellings of how it came to happen, of course; all of them more ridiculous than the next. Your personal favourite story was that he was recruiting members for a sex cult.
“We’ll call you,” Taehyung gave you a nod, “if we have to.”
“Perfect,” you said, glancing at Jungkook again, even though expecting him to confirm that he, too, would call you if he had to, was wishful thinking.
Every time you reminded him how he needed to start going out with a less destructive crowd, he’d treat his phone like a poisonous snake – and he’d been doing that even before you became his manager. His friends seemed to get their pleasure fix from watching you arrive and rip him a new one, so they were the ones who called you most of the time, always laughing into their phones like true accomplices.
It was funny how Jungkook was the only one who passed out or got so wasted, he ended up on a ferry to Martha’s Vineyard. His friends always walked away unscathed and, usually, only called you by the time they were back in their bedrooms – “when we left, he was ordering mint and honey daiquiris, you should probably go over there and check up on him.”
It was like they loved pushing him into danger and purposefully bringing the two of you together again, and Jungkook either didn’t realise or didn’t care anymore. It’s been a while, after all.
You and Jungkook had been broken up for two years when you got the unbelievable offer to manage an up-and-coming rock band. This was two years ago now and you were only twenty-four back then. Up until that point, you had worked as an assistant manager for various indie artists, so that offer was massive.
You figured the downside that your ex-boyfriend happened to be in this particular band was worth it, considering the huge leap in your career you’d make by accepting this job.
And, for the most part (excluding the first two months that were pure chaos of repressed feelings), you and Jungkook both made this work, drawing a strict line between your relationship before Rated Riot (back when he still had your phone number saved as “❌”) and after he met you again as Rated Riot’s new manager (ironically, now your name on his phone was “❌❌❌”).
You’ve managed Rated Riot for almost exactly two years now, and if you’d asked the band – which you wouldn’t, partially out of humbleness, but also because you were scared – you’d know that they loved working with you as much as you loved working with them. So, in the end, it all really had been worth it.
“Check your emails for the descriptive itineraries,” you continued smoothly enough. The guys at the table put their phones down and returned their attention to you. “Now, who else is coming with us?”
Technically, the band wasn’t supposed to bring anyone – the label was explicitly clear about that. They wanted the first European tour to go “without a hitch” (meaning, without distractions), but you held a more liberal view here.
You didn’t think loved ones coming on the road were a distraction; if anything, they were a firm support mechanism that made touring easier for the artists.
“I know Luna’s staying until the Barcelona show, yeah?” you asked, double-checking the notes on your laptop.
Taehyung nodded, a small smile on his lips at the mention of the girl. “She flies out the next day, yeah.”
“Okay. Who else?”
“Well, Sid and Jude are coming,” Jungkook spoke up and, after seeing your eyes roll back, added, quieter, “and Minjun isn’t sure.”
The three musketeer-wannabes – Sid, Jude, and Minjun – were on speed dial on your work and personal phones, because if Rated Riot had a performance and the vocalist wasn’t there, it was likely those three who were to blame. They were the only ones who knew Jungkook longer than you did, and they seemed to take pride in the fact that they had successfully been causing you headaches for seven years now.
“Sid and Jude,” you repeated, “aren’t worried they’ll lose their jobs if they travel to Europe abruptly?”
“No, they’re cool,” Jungkook shrugged, not catching the mockery in your voice. “I’ll text Minjun right now. Maybe he’ll come when we’re in Poland…”
“I needed confirmation by last week,” you reminded him. “At the latest.”
He glanced at you from his phone and then went back to texting. “So, why’d you ask now?”
“To double-check,” you said. “They’re going to have to book the hotels themselves. Or sleep on the street. Honestly, I don’t really—”
“So, uh,” Yoongi interrupted before another argument could begin, “how many hotels this time?”
“Prague, Amsterdam, and Paris. And, depending on flight time, maybe two nights in London,” you said with an apologetic smile. “Bring your favourite blankets. We’re living on buses for the next three months.”
None of them minded – if anything, you could see a little glitter in their eyes as they listened to you. Being on the road and having to sleep on the tour bus every night was an experience they’d missed. They hadn’t gone on an actual tour in almost a year – as someone who thrived on live performances, they had obviously missed this.
Really, you’ve missed it, too. Rated Riot may have been a riot to look after as their manager – pun fully intended – especially on tour, but they were your riot to deal with.
You liked your job and the challenges that came with it, because, in the end, you overcame most of them: starting with your previous relationship with Jungkook (no one in the band had a problem with it, and the label miraculously seemed not to know about it) and ending with your relatively young age (Jungkook was the only one who had a problem with you being his age, but he had a problem with almost everything).
Hopefully, one day you’d manage to overcome the challenge that was getting Jungkook to open his eyes and realise that the people he surrounded himself with were more groupies than his friends. But all in due time.
“If you have questions,” you said as the meeting approached its’ conclusion, “go right ahead.”
“Wake-up calls,” Yoongi said. “Any possibility of arranging those?”
You smiled – this had been traditional practice ever since you started to work with them.
“I’ll call,” you said and then remembered a particularly frustrating way in which this had backfired. You added, “and keep you on the phone until you’re out of bed.”
Back when you were an assistant manager to a different band, this had been your main task. And, you supposed, if Rated Riot had assistant managers, they’d be the ones making wake-up calls, too – however, the band had only started to live up to their potential now. Before you booked the European tour for them, Jett Records thought they barely needed one manager to begin with.
You’ve made it this far. If the tour went well, maybe you’d get to expand your team as the band gained popularity.
Tumblr media
Jungkook felt giddy the whole night. The Reconnaissance show with Taehyung and Luna was a lot of fun, as expected—he’d seen the band five times before tonight, and they never failed to let him down.
When he arrived at the after-party, he was nearly vibrating with excitement—on top of everything, he was going on tour tomorrow and he knew he might lose his mind over it—and this was usually the time when he tended to get reckless.
He did drink a little too much to retain a completely sober mind, but he stayed true to his word and did not wander anywhere or caused any—serious—trouble. You would have said that’s because Sid and Jude weren’t with him, but Jungkook was convinced it was because he simply had great self-control when he put his mind to it.
The only place he went to after the party was his family’s house, so he could say goodbye to his grandma. She probably wouldn’t even hear him—and if she would, then she probably wouldn’t recognise him—but he couldn’t leave to Europe without saying goodbye to her.
He thought he’d take his Katana to the house, but then remembered immediately the last time he got on his motorcycle drunk – his grandma had, literally, smacked him on the back with a rolling pin, yelling about how careless he was. She didn’t say that she hit him out of concern for his safety—that was obvious—and, instead, she focused on how hard he’d worked on restoring the bike after he’d bought it; his first purchase with the money that he made off Rated Riot’s music.
“Don’t you want it to last?” she had said then. She’d been the only person who believed he could bring the bike to life, despite it not having a single properly functioning part, least of all the engine. “You worked so hard on it. Do you want to wreck it in one night?”
Tonight, however, everyone in the house was asleep when he arrived. It was quiet, so he tried to be silent as he went up the stairs to her room—and then knocked over a picture frame after his feet fumbled on the carpet in the hallway. But no one went out to check who was making the noise—which was dangerous, he realised for a brief, semi-sober second; but the house had security, so he figured they were safe from outsiders—and he gently lowered the handle on his grandma’s door, peering inside.
The room was painted in blue hues from the night light next to the bed where his grandma was sleeping. He approached—really trying to be quiet this time—and carefully pulled her comforter up, so she wouldn’t get cold, even though the room felt warm.
It was always warm here and Jungkook had to bite his lip when he realised how much he missed sitting here as a child while dozens of his cousins ran around the house and wreaked loud, childish havoc. How much he missed his grandma reading him books—never children’s stories, he always insisted she read him the thickest, most boring books he could find on her shelves, just so he could stay in her room longer, listening to her soothing voice and feeling her comforting warmth.
Sniffling quietly, he leaned closer to her and brushed a strand of white hair from her face, listening to her soft breathing as she slept, unaware of his presence.
“I’ll be back soon,” he promised in a whisper as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. She didn’t wake. “We will talk again then.”
He knew he’d keep this promise even if she didn’t hear it, even if she didn’t remember. But leaving her room felt painful and he was far less excited now. The alcohol had begun to wear off and heaviness settled in his chest instead. This happened sometimes when he was left alone with his thoughts, especially after he visited his grandma.
He'd come back, he knew he would. But as he glanced at his grandma’s sleeping frame one more time—remembering how she hadn’t called him by his name in months; not one glint of recognition in her eyes when she’d see him—he wondered if he’d have anyone to come back to.
Tumblr media
Surprising exactly no one, Jungkook was the only one who did not answer your wake-up call the next morning. Having foreseen this, you’d already called Hoseok, Yoongi and Taehyung – in that order, because the first two took the longest to wake up, and by that time, Taehyung was already awake on his own – and only then attempted to reach the one remaining member.
Fifteen minutes later, you were already dressed and ready to drive over to his house and personally wake him up with an icy bath in bed. And just then, your phone rang – his name as the caller’s ID.
“Look who—”
“Okay, okay,” Jungkook’s groggy voice cut you off before you could greet him with the appropriate sarcastic remark. “I’m awake. Halfway in the shower.”
“I don’t hear running water.”
He responded with a groan first, then shuffling. You waited patiently, balancing the phone on your shoulder as you unlocked the door of your apartment. Finally, you could hear the water start running on the other end of the call.
“Happy?” Jungkook asked, always the brightest of all rays of sunshine in the morning.
“Ecstatic,” you replied, equally as enthusiastically. “Sending a car to pick you up in half an hour. Don’t be late.”
“I can drive myself—”
“No driving when you’re hungover,” you said, not for the first time. “In fact, don’t even go near your Katana.”
He considered several ways to respond to you; first and foremost, defending his beloved, navy-coloured Suzuki Katana with a matte coating, custom-made leather seat covers, golden rims, purring engine, and—anyway. He ended up choosing to respond with a question, “how do you know I’m hungover?”
“I’ve known you for almost ten years,” you replied. “If you go out drinking the night before, you’ll wake up hungover.”
“Well, how do you know I drank that much last ni—?”
“Listen,” you cut him off, hoisting your suitcases over the threshold of your front door. You fixed your phone against your cheek and continued, “how about you take that shower, and we’ll resume this nice little Q&A at the airport?”
“No,” he replied and, in a purposefully exaggerated breathy voice said, “I simply can’t stop talking to you.”
“Hanging up now.”
Jungkook laughed as he listened to the beep, indicating the end of the call. Putting his phone on the side of the sink, he took his shirt off and was about to continue undressing when his phone vibrated and nearly fell off the sink.
Scrambling to catch it, he smacked it against the cupboard and exhaled in relief when he saw that the screen hadn’t cracked. He was expecting a text from you – a threat, in case he’d go back to bed – but it was actually Sid, asking for the time of his flight.
His friends were taking a separate flight out to Prague – they weren’t happy about it and neither was he, but at least they’d get to hang out in Europe eventually – and, obviously, they wanted to know what time they’d meet up and where.
He double-checked the itinerary you’d emailed him, got confused about the time zone difference and texted Sid back.
“Gonna be there the day before the show,” his text said, “jetlag. Sleep. Maybe beer? Catch u there.”
Sid was, of course, delighted to hear the mention of beer and Jungkook snickered to himself before he resumed undressing for his shower—knowing from experience that you wouldn’t be above shipping him to Prague in the cargo section on the plane if he was late to the airport.
Tumblr media
As it turned out, for the first time in his life, Jungkook was so terribly jet-lagged, that he did not feel like doing anything – not even drinking with friends – but sleeping.
He slept through the whole layover in Paris – and, consequently, through Taehyung and Luna’s stories about the 5 minutes they got to spend in front of the Eiffel Tower before rushing back to the airport (never mind that it was about 2 AM) – as well as the flight to Prague.
He only woke up on the bus ride to the hotel when he felt something nudging his lips and opened his eyes to find an open bottle of Coca-Cola in your hands as you held it by his face.
“Did you just—” he started to say, but his voice sounded brittle, more a croak than a voice, really. He cleared his throat and tried again, “did you just wake me up by making me sniff soda?”
“It worked,” you replied, nudging the bottle at him again. “Drink. You need sugar. You didn’t eat anything on the plane here.”
“I had that bagel on the flight to Paris,” he mumbled, but sat up properly and took the bottle from you.
“That was a croissant,” you clarified. It was almost cute to see him barely awake. “And I warned you about flying with a hangover. You did this to yourself.”
“I’m fine,” he replied after taking a big gulp of coke. “Not sure which day it is, but other than that, I’m perfect. Do you have anything for headaches?”
Snickering, you nodded. “Yeah, give me a second.”
You went to fetch your carry-on bag and returned with ibuprofen, which allowed him to go back to sleep until you arrived at the hotel. The other members were also in and out of slumber, but that was their own fault. You and the other girls on this tour, which, really, only meant Luna— Taehyung’s girlfriend—and Maggie—the tour photographer—had planned ahead and taken sleeping pills as soon as the plane took off. Meanwhile, every man on this trip thought too much of himself.
By the time you arrived to the hotel and checked in, it was already lunchtime. If this had been your first time travelling with Rated Riot, you would have been beyond surprised to see what effect food had on them: they looked like they'd just returned from the most refreshing vacation in the Caribbean. Lively conversation and cheerful laughter echoed around the table – no one would have guessed that they’d just spent over 13 hours on airplanes. Their recovery was nearly always miraculous.
And, naturally, since they were feeling better, they wanted to do something as soon as the first rehearsal was over. You had far too many things to do before the show tomorrow, so you couldn’t babysit them – again, an assistant manager would have been life-saving – but you knew you’d still have to keep an eye on them.
Taehyung and Luna went sightseeing, but they were the sort who kept you updated on their adventures through pictures, which you were endlessly grateful for. There was never a reason to worry here; if you were a teacher who had to pretend not to have a favourite student, Taehyung would be the student you were pretending about.
Yoongi and Hoseok, initially, went to a record store together, but then split up – one of them returned to the hotel for a nap, and the other one went café-hopping. Those two were also fine – they usually took some members of the crew with them anyway, so you knew that in the worst-case scenario, you’d still have several people you could call to reach them.
Now Jungkook was going to meet up with Sid and Jude, both of whom had, most unfortunately, successfully landed in Prague. The Diabolical Duo would take him out drinking, you had no doubt about it – and this was where you’d have to step in with another warning. You weren’t the angry mother, dragging her children by their ears, but you felt it necessary to remind Jungkook of what was at stake if he allowed his friends to be their usual, obnoxious selves tonight.
However, you didn’t want to ask, so you had to figure out where to find them yourself. You didn’t even have to use the seven years that you’ve known them to deduce two logical, universal-for-all-assholes things: one, Jungkook’s friends wouldn’t be nearly tired enough not to want to drink. Two, they’d be too jet-lagged to look for their usual hole-in-the-wall spot that sold drinks. Therefore, they’d have to settle for the bar of the hotel.
And when you exited the elevator on the ground floor later that night, your assumption was confirmed – you could hear their laughter from where you were standing in the lobby.
You’d texted Jungkook as you arrived, hoping he’d leave his friends and come see you at the back of the bar for a minute, but unfortunately, Sid and Jude noticed you and waved you over with loud cheers.
Embarrassed as the people in booths around you began to turn to look, you swallowed and walked towards the front where Jungkook and his friends were sitting by the bar.
“Wow, it’s been so long!” Jude exclaimed as you approached. In your opinion, it wasn’t nearly long enough, but you only lifted the corners of your lips and did not comment.
“Jungkook, a moment?” you said instead.
“Let’s get you a drink!” Sid suggested as though you hadn’t spoken and extended a hand, clicking his fingers to get the bartender’s attention. “Hey! Can we get some Margaritas here?”
You cringed watching this, but, again, restrained yourself. They could behave like pricks all they wanted; it wasn’t their reputation that you had to protect. Someone else would, hopefully, teach them a lesson.
“Sure,” Jungkook said to you, sliding off the stool. He seemed sober enough to walk without any sort of waddling or stand without swaying, but you could tell by the relaxation behind his eyes, that he was already tipsy.
His friends patted him on the back and whistled as he followed you to a quieter spot in the back of the bar. He shook his head at them—but had a grin on his face, and for that alone you wanted to punch him.
“Can I count on you to take it easy?” you asked, once the two of you were out of earshot. “Not because you’ll make my job much harder if you don’t, but because you have a rehearsal tomorrow at eight, and that’s hard with the jet lag alone, but add a hangover into the mix, and—”
“I’ll be fine,” he said, but you’ve heard this song many times before. It was one of his top hits. “I’m actually tired, so I might have a few and then go straight to bed.”
“Okay,” you said, choosing to believe him, because that was easier than making him sign a contract, swearing not to wake up in a dumpster. “Can you text me when you’re back in your room? So I know you’re not lost somewhere in Prague with Dumb and Dumber.”
His lip twitched in an almost-smile at the nickname, but he resisted – a loyal friend, even if they didn’t deserve it – and gave you a nod.
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll text you. And I won’t get lost.”
“Okay—” you started to say and then squinted your eyes at him, realizing. “I meant don’t go wandering the city streets while drunk.”
He snorted and placed a hand on your left shoulder. Gazing into your eyes, he enunciated very dramatically, “I will not get into trouble. Promise.”
You pursed your lips. “You’d better not.”
“I realise what that would mean, believe it or not,” he said, straightening. “Tomorrow is an important day. I’d never do anything to ruin it.”
“I know,” you said. “I trust you to make smart choices. I don’t trust them.”
You pointed at the twosome by the bar – both of them watching you like you were the entertainment of the night – and Jungkook turned to look. Sid and Jude both immediately waved at him. Jungkook waved back and, when he looked at you again, he was smiling softly.
Clearly, he genuinely enjoyed hanging out with those two. You’d never believe that there was anything about them that was bearable—let alone enjoyable—so Jungkook’s weird attachment to them had to come from some sort of weird destructive force inside of him.
“I’ll keep them in check,” he said and then, possibly prompted by the skeptical frown on your face, he felt the need to explain, “they help me relax. If it weren’t for them, I’d probably be shaking from anxiety all the time. Kind of like you are.”
He winked as he said that last part, grinning at his own wit, but you rolled your eyes in response.
“Goodnight,” you said then. “Don’t forget to text me.”
“Are you going to stay up late waiting for my text?” his tone was humorous and it stopped you from leaving.
“Hopefully not,” you said, ignoring the flirty comment that was obviously meant to rattle your composure. “But it’d do you well to remember that I can make life very difficult for you if you disobey me.”
He lifted his eyebrows at this, but did not lose the grin. “Oh? Will I get punished if I—”
“Goodnight, Jungkook,” you said again—louder—and turned away.
You glanced over your shoulder when you reached the archway leading to the lobby and caught him watching you leave—he was still beaming, but he composed himself and nodded when he caught your eye. You nodded back.
Maybe he really would be fine tonight.
And, truly, Jungkook had meant what he’d said – he couldn’t wait for tomorrow and there was nothing he’d do to ruin that. Not even if the smirking faces of his friends prompted him to laugh as soon as he returned to his seat by the bar.
“What do you want, assholes?” he asked, punching Jude on the shoulder as he walked past his friends. As soon as he sat down, leaving Sid in the middle, he took a big gulp of the beer he’d left waiting; only his third one tonight.
“We don’t want anything,” Jude said, still smirking. “What did she want? Another moral how you’re not being a good boy?”
Jungkook rolled his eyes. “No—”
“I was always curious,” Sid interrupted. “Was she like that when you dated, too? You know, always in charge?”
Even before you and Jungkook had settled into a steady enough rhythm of working with each other, neither of you spoke to others about your relationship. Not while you were dating, and not after you broke up. So, all your friends—real friends and whoever the hell Sid and Jude were—essentially knew nothing of your relationship.
And there was nothing he’d tell them now.
It’s been four years since you broke up—plenty of time to move on. Not to mention, you were both (trying to be) professionals. There was no point to bring back the past; there never had been.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Jungkook teased, managing to keep the banter going without revealing how the question irked something inside him.
“I would. That’s why I asked,” Sid replied, laughing haughtily. A few heads turned his way. Sid sounded very much like an entitled heir—or an elephant high on helium—when he laughed, especially when there was nothing funny going on. “I mean, you never talked about her to us. Was it getting rid of her that made you who you are today?”
Jude snorted, slapping Sid on the back in a half-supportive, half-warning manner. Jungkook knew that the level of your patience for his friends ranged from Sid (no patience) to Jude (case-by-case), to Minjun (bearable)—and he could see why.
“I didn’t get rid of her,” he said, an edge to his voice. “We broke up and moved on. Did you hear from Minjun?”
Sid laughed again—even louder than before; the glasses behind the bar seemed to clatter.
“Look at him, trying to change the topic!” he wheezed, looking at Jude over his shoulder.
“Leave him be, man,” Jude said and nodded at Jungkook. “So many girls around us and this dumbass is still hung up on your ex, huh?”
Jungkook finished his beer and held the liquid behind his cheeks for a second before swallowing. He caught the bartender’s eye and lifted his empty glass, indicating a refill.
“I don’t think I’m the one who’s hung up,” Sid said with a very knowing look in his eye.
Jungkook looked at him and raised his eyebrows—surprised and momentarily distracted from his drink. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Well, you come to her as soon as she calls, like a puppy,” Sid replied. “So, you tell me.”
“I have to come when she calls,” Jungkook defended. “She’s my manager.”
“Yeah, dumbass,” Jude said, slapping Sid on the back of the head this time. “She’s his manager.”
Jungkook suddenly found himself smiling when he realised that you’d probably consider this the reason why Sid acted the way he did sometimes – permanent brain damage from Jude’s incessant slaps.
“Well, then someone,” Sid said, angrily accentuating the word—the anger was clearly directed at Jude, but the pronoun at Jungkook, “has a fucking crush on their manager.”
“I don’t have a crush—”
Sid spoke over him, “I bet you could never get her to go out with you again.”
Jungkook saw the bartender approach to pour him a drink and he heard Jude scoffing, but he could only blink, taken aback by what sounded like an accusation.  “Why��why would I even—why—”
“Oh, see, see?!” Sid screeched, turning to Jude with a triumphant expression. Jude gave him a pitiful look—and looked about ready to give him a black eye, too. “He knows I’m right, it’s why he’s stuttering!”
“Dude,” Jude said slowly. “You are yelling.”
Jungkook cleared his throat, nodding at the bartender as a thank-you and then bringing his refilled glass to his lips. “And I’m not stuttering.”
“You so are, my man,” Sid taunted, patting Jungkook on the shoulder with so much force, the beer nearly spilled from the glass and from his mouth. “Your ass is so whipped, you’re going to be singing at her wedding to some random producer.”
Suddenly hyper-aware that there were several producers on tour with them right now, Jungkook put his drink down and straightened in his seat.
“I’m not fucking singing at weddings,” he said.
“Not yet,” Sid pointed out, grinning. He knew he'd gotten under his skin.
“Okay, come on now,” Jude interjected, leaning back in his seat to be able to see Jungkook. “You promised you’d sing at my wedding.”
“As if anyone would ever marry you,” came Sid’s snide.
“You shut the fuck up,” Jude snarled, but there was no malice behind his bark. “I have more chances of marrying someone than he has of marrying his manager.”
“He—oh, fuck!” Sid was about to argue, but then burst into laughter—so loud and thunderous again, that the bartender was forced to glance over at the security guards by the entrance to the bar. “That’s good! You’re so right!”
“Both of you are fucking idiots,” Jungkook spoke. The edges of his vision were red. “I could get her to go out with me again if I wanted to.”
“Oh, sure, sure,” Sid nodded, wiping invisible tears from his eyes. “Big talk.”
“Jungkook, no offense, my dude,” Jude said, leaning forwards this time. “Let him have this one. Sid may be dumber than box of rocks, but he’s got a point here. Forget about her.”
Another insinuation that had Jungkook throwing his head back in frustration.
“There’s nothing to forget!” he groaned. “What the fuck are you even talking about? I just fucking told you I moved on.”
“So why are you getting all riled up, then?” Sid smirked, more and more satisfied with each curse that he provoked out of him.
Jungkook felt even angrier, because he was getting riled up, but he had a good reason for it. He enjoyed banter as much as the next person, but he did not enjoy mockery at his own expense—especially not the kind that involved you.
He snapped back, “because you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
His friends snickered at this – convinced that his irritation only proved the point they were both making – and Jungkook clenched his jaw, annoyed.
“If anything,” he added sharply as he picked his beer up—as if that could somehow distance him from this conversation, “it’s her who’s still hung up on me.”
That was a cheap, childish defence, and everyone by the bar knew it.
“Yeah, right!” Sid cried out, but resisted from laughing again. “We’ve heard her yell at you more times than we can count. You fucking wish she was still hung up on you.”
“Okay, to be fair, Sid can probably only count to five,” Jude added—Sid finally punched him on the shoulder—as he toyed with the paper umbrella on his fourth cocktail; the Margaritas they’d ordered were long gone. “But he’s right, you know? You’d never get her to go out with you again.”
There was pity in Jude’s voice—as if he felt sorry that Jungkook lived in denial, chasing after you and convincing himself that it was only a matter of time before you’d come back to him.
This made Jungkook’s temper vile, his face red, hot, and angry. He slammed his beer back on the table, forcing some of it to spill. “Yes, I fucking would!”
Sid was hiccupping as he laughed.
“Okay, okay, listen—let’s make a proper bet,” he managed. He picked up a napkin from the bar top, then looked around for something to write on it with—not finding anything, he stood up from his seat and leaned over the bar, grabbing a pen before the bartender could notice. “$1000 says you can’t get her to go on a date with you again.”
He glanced at Jude for approval—Jude shrugged.
“I’d suggest $500,” he said. “We don’t want to rob him blind.”
Jungkook’s face remained stoic, prideful.
“Fine with me. But you have no idea what you’re getting yourselves into,” he bit.
“Oh, that’s right, he’s been awfully cocky about the whole thing, hasn’t he?” Sid spoke, addressing his rhetorical question at the bar. He wrote something on the napkin and then lifted it to show the number “4000” to Jungkook. “How about this: Jude and I each pay you $2000 if you win. But if you lose, you give us your Katana.”
Jungkook lifted his eyebrows, the sudden mention of his bike catching him off-guard. Sid came from old money, he could afford fifteen brand-new motorcycles with the change he found in his suitcase, probably.
“How is that fair?” he asked. “Do you even know how much a Suzuki costs these days? It’s not $4000, I can tell you that much.”
“Why should you care?” Sid asked, his eyes glinting with mischief. “You were so confident about winning the bet just a second ago. Scared you’ll lose after all?”
In his defence, Jungkook did hesitate for half a moment. But there was a shit-eating grin on Sid’s mouth that he wanted to wipe off more than anything else, and he downed the rest of his beer in one big gulp—a showcase of his determination.
“Not at all,” he said then. He wasn’t sure if he was lying as he said this, but he had no time to figure that out. He extended his hand at Sid. “Get your money ready.”
Here, he was putting up a front – this wasn’t about the money at all. It was more a thing of pride; they were teasing him, purposefully making fun of him—and he wanted to prove them wrong, regardless if they were actually wrong.
Smirking, Sid shook his hand—cementing the bet between all three of them, as Jude was busy finishing off his cocktail—and was about to say something when Jungkook jumped off his stool.
“Have to go now,” he said, always a show-off with his overly creative comebacks when he was tipsy. “My horoscope predicts a date and a big fortune in my near future. Got to prepare.”
Tumblr media
chapter title credits: sleep token, “rain”
Tumblr media
special shout-out & thank you to @eleni-cherie who delivered the much-appreciated kicks in the ass, so that i would keep writing. the odds were really against me, so if it weren't for you & our in-depth fanfic discussions, i definitely wouldn't even be writing this note right now, let alone finally starting this story 💜
Tumblr media
prev ○ next | | | masterlist
2K notes · View notes
raplinenthusiasts · 10 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
rockstar🤘
for @rjshope © namuspromised
578 notes · View notes
jeonsbabygirlsworld · 6 months
Text
CHAMPAGNE CONFETTI
Tumblr media
SUMMARY: It was supposed to be a perfect night to spend with Jungkook and his mom, though you are nervous Jungkook helps you to calm down but after a few hours the things take a toll on you both .
PAIRINGS: FWB TO LOVERS (rockstar Jungkook x Reader)
WORD COUNT:2.1k
WARNINGS: AGNST, SMUT, FLUFF at the end kind of not really...? also Jungkook rides a bike, has a beef with his brother. Reader slaps Jungkook once .
SMUT WARNINGS: Unprotected sex, Fingering in elevator, oral m,f , missionary, cream pie as always, fingering, so many kisses, squirting, making a sex tape for like 2 minutes?
A/N: oh god 3D jungkook has an effect on me you guys I hope you enjoy this . As always please like, comment, follow and reblog sweet pies. <3
“I don’t know Jungkook are you sure about it?” You ask nervous about the fact he had invited you to his mother's birthday party. 
“I’m sure baby, please come. I'm sure she would love to have you there, also wanna have champagne confetti there?”He said and you just know he wiggled his eyebrows.
“Fine kook I’ll get ready. Can you come and pick me up, also I’m always up for it”You answer him chuckling right away.
“Yeah, baby I’ll be there in a few get ready yeah baby, and great.” Saying goodbye, he hangs up. 
Present
You get ready soon after his call doing a slight makeup, hair styled in wavy curls and wearing a new dress you saved for a special occasion the dress ends right above your knees. 
There was a knock you heard while wearing your black heels. Opening the door, you meet with the site of Jungkook dressed in a suit his hair-sleeked blazer resting in his hands and a few buttons unbuttoned. 
“Hey pretty girl, you ready?” Jungkook whispered while extending his right hand, nodding at him you allow him to guide you to His bike. “Hop on pretty girl,”he says giving you a helmet. Make sure to not ruin your hair. 
“Hold on tight baby,” he says starting his bike, the speed of his bike fastened while you reach the venue safely “Kook I’m nervous what will she think about us,”you say nervously while jungkook walks you into the elevator“Relax she is gonna love you,”he says huffing out a chuckle “I’m just stressed,” you say entering the lift and staying by the railing. 
“Can I do something to make you relax baby?”Jungkook says pressing his body to yours “Jungkook you crazy” you answer not believing him “Come on y/n we’re going 28, you’ve got 25 floors to come” he heaved “fuck go for it, kook” you say his fingers coming up to circle your clit rubbing them in eight shapes and inserting his fingers “cum baby” he said while you whined “oh my god gonna cum” you say slightly griping his blazer not wanting to ruin it. 
“Gonna cum jungkook” you moaned yeah’s leaving your mouth soon cumming on his fingers and removing them he sucks on them “mm came so much” he teases you “Shut up let’s go”You kiss his cheeks. 
While the elevator Dings and opens to the Room directly, holding his hands he guides you to meet his Mom woah she looks amazing you say loudly in your mind “Hi, good evening Mrs. Jeon, Happy Birthday” you say a bit cheerful “Oh hello dear and Thank you so much” she says hugging you both “Son make her comfortable all right?” She stated “Yes Mom don’t worry”Jungkook exclaimed. 
Now both you and jungkook and his mother were sitting on the sofa chatting about the new song he was going to release “Hey Kook let her listen to the song you going to release”you say excitedly “ Yes here you go Mom”he smiled. 
In the middle of the song buzzing he gladly told his mother to dance with him “Oh Mom, I love you” The room was completely filled with laughs and giggles while saw them happily dancing while his mother called you too “Come here honey, join us” she says forwarding her right hand accepting it you both started dancing “oh twirl sweetie “she says while Jungkook stood there looking at both of you with a wide grin. 
“Oh, looks like someone is having a great time over here”Then there came someone whom Jungkook wished never to see. His older brother. While you squeaked a tiny “hi” to him. Jungkook stopped the music looking at his mother “Mom? You said it was going to be only us, didn’t you?” He hounded “I said it because I knew if I told you he was going to come you wouldn’t have come here” she said grabbing his arm “Leave Mom I don’t wanna stay” he said removing her hands, Jungkook eyes his brother “Oh she’s the new one kook? Good taste indeed” his brother laughs “You always bring someone new, you going to push her off too soon? Using her just for her body, right?”He says with a whiskey glass in his hand “Baby get your purse we are leaving” Jungkook warns “Did I get on your nerves, Kook, you had one girl, but it was too boring right? So two girls are cool for you?”  His brother laughed away. 
It happens really quickly Jungkook grabs the glass from which he was drinking and hits him luckily his brother misses it his mother yells “Jungkook are you crazy?” She says raising her voice, never batting an eye he grabs you by your hand while you stand still scared “y/n get it together let’s go” he growls. 
Getting back to your senses you “Jungkook are you fucking stupid? What would have happened if it would have fucking hit your brother?” You bombard him with questions only to receive a low groan “fuck”. 
Jungkook had it even with you asking him questions “Y/n can you shut the fuck up, please?” He says pinning you to the elevator railing and grabbing your cheeks making your lips pout out. “Be quiet, can you? I know what I did” Shutting you up you were scared to see Jungkook like this.
Exiting the elevator you follow Jungkook who is walking at a fast pace “Jungkook wait” you call out “Walk fast y/n we are going back to my place” he says handing you the helmet “Jungkook no, you need to tell me first what the fuck happened up there” you exclaimed, oh boy that was his last straw “fuck y/n can you not stay calm for a fucking second I know what I did and who are you to ask me this stuff you're not my girlfriend and that’s right I keep you for your body , and your acting as if you didn’t knew I have many girls , you anyways will get boring ” he exclaimed, hearing this made your blood boil you slap him across his face and leaving from there. 
Tears run from your eyes, and you call for a taxi you go home crying, you and Jungkook were fuck buddies but staying with him didn’t feel like you were just using your bodies, you went on dates, play dates with bam, showering together, hell you both have gotten so close to each other he has a fucking tattoo of your initials( “or maybe it was just an illusion, and it's just the initial letter of all his fucks”) on his Adonis belt and the aftercare made you more than just fuck buddies.
Reaching home, you unlock the door and collapse on your knees you cry loudly when you hear a continuous ring of the bell and a loud banging noise. “Open the door baby I know you in there, I’m sorry baby, and I know I messed up listen to me, will you?” Jungkook banged harder and pushed open the door finally, instantly getting on his knees hugging you.
“Baby I’m sorry I didn’t mean that at all baby” Jungkook said kissing your forehead you cried harder in his arms “That really hurt Jungkook, you saying you use me just for your pleasure hurt me like shit I know that’s the point of our deal but still” you speak in between the sobs. “I know baby I’m sorry I really didn’t mean it, you can yell at me, curse me, just don’t leave me” he says his face levelling yours while you slightly chuckle at him through tears.
You slightly peck his lips not intending on making it last longer, but Jungkook grabbed your chin and kissed you roughly the kiss soon turned into make out when he carefully takes you in his arms and kisses you.
He lays you down on your bed coming to kiss your neck leaving wet kisses and also sucking on few hickeys on his way down towards your pussy. Fuck you were already wet, his fingers soon finding your clit he groans “Fuck baby wet already?” He says rubbing them over your panties. Going face to face he removes your panties whining when he sees your slick connecting a string to your panties.
“Fuck Jungkook I’m so wet need your fingers now” you grab onto his hair already whining “yeah baby? Moan my name I like it when you say it” he smiles teasing is finger in your pink hole “mm put it in” demanding he inserts one “what a sight y/n” teasing you with his long fingers he fastens the speed hitting your g-spot making you moan loudly “kook right there” you say, “here baby?” He asks making sure just to hit the spot right after.
The feeling of his fingers inside you was overwhelming “too much” you whine when his tongue comes to press kisses on your clit “no kook sensitive” you cry “No y/n it’s never too much cum, pretty baby going to squirt?” He teases you knowing damn well Jungkook and his work with his fingers “cumming Jungkook” you say while squirting all over his fingers “that’s write made you a fucking mess” he growls.
Hovering over you his slick covered fingers make way in your mouth you suck like how suck his pretty cock removing his cloths his cock was now out of the boxers the tip swollen and red begging for attention when you slightly palm him.
Pushing him you were the one on top of him kissing him on the cheeks you make your way to his abs licking them and laying kisses all over them and pressing bunch of kisses on were your initials are tattooed “Fuck kook they look so hot every-time I see them” you moan now giving attention to his cock “take it in your mouth baby "you palm him giving kitten licks on the tip and fastening your pace “ oh shit” Jungkook groans his head moving backwards because of pleasure while your left hand comes near his to choke him  while hand hands make a ponytail for you hair  Such a head pusher “ fuck y/n, no baby going To cum inside you” he says swatting your hands in few seconds .
“Come on sit up on the bed yeah show me that pussy again yes baby?” He says while you’re slightly confused while he goes and grabs his phone asking for your consent “can I baby?” He asks while you verbally consent him “yeah go-ahead kook” his fingers coming back to your pussy he slightly rubs in between your lips while you grab in his palm telling him to touch you there, and he angles his phone perfectly “oh yeah kook” you murmur “moan baby moan” he praises you. Your pussy makes wet sloppy noises.
You grab on his hard on gently circling his tip. “Now want you inside kook” you say grabbing his phone and throwing at the end of the bed “hm lay on your back come on ready for some real champagne and confetti? “He asks giggling.  “Yeah, always ready for it” Missionary his favourite
Jungkook rubs his swollen tip sliding them in your pussy lips to wet himself enough to not hurt you. “Fuck such a tight fit” mumbling he starts delivering rough thrusts while your pretty manicured nails claw on his shoulder, his fucking sliver necklace swinging in front of your face makes him look ten times hotter than he already is.
“Fuck Jungkook, so big” you moan getting closer to your orgasm “kook cumming” you say while he backs away to look at the creamy mess between you both the white ring of your slick makes him thrust back even further roughly “fuck y/n, love fucking your pussy, love you baby “in the heat of moment you say it back not minding while you both soon chase your orgasm.
He cums right after you pulling out to make a mess with his spilling cum pushing it inside. He backs away collapsing next to you while you hug with your legs tucked on his
“Did you mean what you said Jungkook because I meant what I said” you asked hoping he would mean it too “Yes baby I’ve been in love with you like forever now but I was bit scared to admit it” he says hugging you tightly. 
“And about what happened in the door don’t think about we usually never cross paths but yeah he did get on my nerves” he explains so you would calm down about the matter “But kook it would be really dangerous if it would hit him on the head,” you said worrying “yeah baby I know I’ll talk to mother tomorrow morning let’s sleep? I know you are tired” he tucks you down and kissed your lips. 
Good night baby …. Jungkook whispers slightly humming a tune good night Jungkook hugging out a breath. Jungkook is left there thinking all night about the events.
Taglist : @babybella337 , @jungk97kwife , @kimmingyuswifee .
615 notes · View notes
alphabetboyluvr · 7 months
Text
HUSH | MYG - ONE
Tumblr media
pairing: rockstar!yoongi x female reader | mutual disdain - lovers (but also strangers - lovers? kinda?)
premise: in which you work for your brothers band by day and accidentally anonymously sext his bandmate on the regular by night! whoops !!
wc: 17.5k
for more details, pls see the master list (x)
hush is written in two formats: messaging transcripts and my regular writing style
warnings: we're sexting, straight off the bat!! love that for our hush couple!! allusions to sending nudes, mentions of blueballing lmao, sex toys, general masturbation malarky, mentions of ass play <33, they video call during finales (back camera only!!!), yoongi has a massive cock, like im talking humongous, so BIG (and factually accurate!!) they're switchy aka he tries dom and she's too much of a brat that he folds, he is whiney and needy and obsessed, and she enjoys that! you get to fill in the gaps as if you're really sexting him, lucky you <33 there's also exactly (1) near foot job, a needy jk, (1) banana milk mention, a playfight, miscommunication, a mysterious night that will never be mentioned in conversation. oh yeah and yoongi and you don't realise you're sexting one another ! oops!!!! yoongi is uncircumcised cause ik some people care about that?? just my preference when writing, imagine what u like! no *actual* smut in this one... just... much sexting!
before you read: please read these for a little context on the story - the app (x) and the band (x)
minors dni!!!
Tumblr media
New Hush Crush in your Secret Circle! D4m0cl3s
10:43PM
D4m0cl3s: hey, stranger
Cl3m3ntin3: well hello there how are you??
D4m0cl3s: i'm all good. yourself?
Cl3m3ntin3: yeah, yeah, im all good just tryna figure out this damn app, lmao
D4m0cl3s: you new around these parts?
Cl3m3ntin3: i am indeed you've taken my secret circle virginity lucky you x
D4m0cl3s: oh shit well, i am honoured i can be your guide to all things hush x
Cl3m3ntin3: oh, i seeeeee an expert, are we? ;)
D4m0cl3s: just realised how tragic it is to be a self-proclaimed dating app expert, so... no not an expert just.... well versed?
Cl3m3ntin3: hahaha sureeee so, tell me, mr hush expert, how do these conversations usually go
D4m0cl3s: okay, 1: not an expert and 2: just general chit chat get an idea of what you're both looking for stuff like that
Cl3m3ntin3: 1: keep telling yourself that, babe and 2: what are you looking for?
D4m0cl3s: 1: calling me babe, already? score. 2: a girl who calls me babe.
Cl3m3ntin3: looks like my work here is done, then ;) seeeeeeya x
D4m0cl3s: no don't go stay i think we'll get along tell me what you're looking for
Cl3m3ntin3: a man who begs for my attention so looks like your work here is done, too ;)
D4m0cl3s: well, aren't we just a match made in heaven?
Cl3m3ntin3: hell* definitely a match made in hell
D4m0cl3s: you a sinner?
Cl3m3ntin3: would you like me to be?
D4m0cl3s: tempting... but no
Cl3m3ntin3: shame maybe we are after different things after all
D4m0cl3s: woaaah, i never said that i was just trying to be a gentleman take things slow be respectful
Cl3m3ntin3: it's anonymous, babe i didn't sign up for hush looking to be wined and dined or to be treated like a lady quite the opposite, actually so you don't need to worry about tarnishing your reputation, or whatever your secrets are safe with me ;)
D4m0cl3s: 1. i couldn't give a shit about my reputation and 2. it's just that people are on this app for different reasons don't wanna assume everyone is after the same thing
Cl3m3ntin3: 1. untouchable, are you? and 2. well, im pretty sure you know what i'm here for and if it's not abundantly obvious: nothing serious. it's late, and i'm bored. what's a girl to do in those kinds of situations? play all alone? boringgg. my cards are on the table, damocles you're up.
D4m0cl3s: untouchable...something like that and fine if you really wanna know i'm not looking for a girl to take home to my mother
Cl3m3ntin3: good mothers don't tend to like me all that much
D4m0cl3s: no?
Cl3m3ntin3: nah fathers on the other hand? fucking love me
D4m0cl3s: and you wonder why the mothers hate you?
Cl3m3ntin3: oh, no im fully aware it's because im the only thing that can get their husbands' perpetually flaccid cocks hard :)
D4m0cl3s: jesus christ you really are built for sin, aren't you?
Cl3m3ntin3: uh-huh :) fancy a dance with the devil?
D4m0cl3s: not tonight but you've got me interested
Cl3m3ntin3: </3 can't believe you're blue balling me
D4m0cl3s: trust me im blue balling myself i've got an early schedule in the morning can't stay up all night entertaining some girl on a fucking app ;)
Cl3m3ntin3: okay 1: ouch, if anyone was doing the entertaining, it would be me and 2: prove it
D4m0cl3s: prove it?
Cl3m3ntin3: uh-huh prove that you're blue balling yourself
D4m0cl3s: again, jesus christ you are something else
Cl3m3ntin3: thank you :D now... proof
D4m0cl3s: say please
Cl3m3ntin3: you want me to get down on my knees, too?
D4m0cl3s: would be appreciated
Cl3m3ntin3: fine
D4m0cl3s: watch your attitude, clementine
Cl3m3ntin3: sighhh hate you for this already >:( pretty please could you show me your cock so i know you're hard and not just lying &lt;;33
D4m0cl3s: see, that wasn't so hard, was it? good girl
D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!
Cl3m3ntin3: holy shit
D4m0cl3s: i might keep secrets, but i never lie let's talk tomorrow, alright?
Cl3m3ntin3: noted and tomorrow for sure sweet dreams, damocles x
D4m0cl3s: night night, clementine x
Tumblr media Tumblr media
[3 Months Later]  KSPO DOME  Seoul, South Korea
♪ // Hush - The Marías
"You'll choke if you're not careful – and how many times do I need to tell you? Put that damn phone away!"
If Park Jimin wasn't so warm in his tone with you—effervescent in his kindness, bubbling over like lightly shaken soda—you'd tell him to kiss your ass.
He stands in the doorway, a pretty smile on his plump lips. There's something about him—his eyes, you think—that subvert all his softness. Makes him quite the menace. If you hadn't been there to witness his high-school bowl cut era, you never would believed it had happened. He's too cool. It transcends his current being. Is effortless. 
In all black, a pair of Chelsea boots soundtrack his arrival no matter where he is. A little scuffed, he's in need of a new pair—but they'll be a post-show bonus treat. From Jimin, to Jimin. Congratulations on a job well done.
With a subtle roll of your eyes, you swallow down the blueberry you'd been holding between your teeth in a dingy backroom of Seoul's KSPO Dome—the venue of choice for The Scouts' final hometown show. The brickwork remains exposed, grey concrete blocks a dull backdrop for the catering tables.
"Sorry mum," you banter, even though you really shouldn't. There's a glint to your eyes beneath the awkward spotlighting that really isn't preferable for the buffet-style display behind you. Fruits, snacks, it's not a bad spread—but it's got nothing on the rider you know The Scouts ask for ahead of every show.
But why shouldn't they? What the boys want, the boys get – and they've worked damn hard to get it.
He nods towards the lanyard around your neck and reminds you of this, then holds up his.
Park Jimin, it reads. Senior Tour Manager.
"Not on the clock, trouble. I'm still your boss."
"And don't I know it," you offer him a smile, still not a huge fan of the dynamic the pair of you portray at work.
You've known Jimin since the tooth fairy was leaving coins under his pillow. It's sorta hard to take him seriously when you've experienced as much life together as you have.
The way he groans when you reach for yet another blueberry is testament to the friendship you share; the kind of found siblings written about in books but rarely found in reality. There's a sanctity there. He's got your back, and he knows you'll always pick up the slack when he needs you to.
For all your difficulties in the short-term, he knows you pull it out of the bag come the time results are needed.
Knocking the blueberry into your mouth with a grin, you use your tongue to toss it to your back teeth. It's a teeny tiny little fruit. You're pretty sure you could swallow it whole without repercussion.
In fact, the reason you were so engrossed in your phone is because you were about to start a discussion with a... friend about something else you could swallow, instead – but you won't tell Jimin that. He'd throw up, probably, and then it'd be your job to clean it up.
"Yeah, yeah," you nod, locking your phone and tucking it into your back pocket. "Sorry boss. Where do you need me?"
He narrows his eyes at your sarcastic use of formalities, but knows when to pick his battles with you. Instead, he knocks his head to the side and heads for the doorway, indicating for you to follow suit.
Just like he knows when to pick his battles with you, you also know when to pick yours with him.
"You've a job that people would likely kill for," he ribs, not really minding all that much. It's downtime between the off-stage rush, so there really isn't all that much to be doing—but you could at least pretend to make it look like you're working your ass off. "But you're too busy on your bloody phone. Head to hair and make-up. The next VCR segment is smaller so I need you in position pronto."
"Sure, sure," you nod like a bobbing head figurine, stealing a handful of blueberries from the catering table and heading on your way.
Jimin watches on with a curious sense of bewilderment. You're the best runner they have, by quite some margin, but also seemingly the one that's least eager to please—and by doing so, they seem to like you even more. It's an odd paradox, but it is one that you use to your advantage. Play a little dumb; wow them all when you continually and quite impressively exceed their expectations. Work smarter, not harder.
It's a work ethic that runs in the family. They shouldn't be surprised by it, not really.
The corridor you head down is flanked by sterile white lights. The only thing that's brighter are the faux smiles of entertainment execs and slimy media men, who are all after their fifteen minutes of favour—because it's not fame they'll get by rubbing shoulders with the boys on stage; it's a boost up. Something to talk big about in board room meetings. 
A humble brag; a subtle flex, that is neither humble nor subtle.
Your lanyard taps against the buckle of your belt as you jog towards the stage. A cute little pat-pat-pat and jingle of keys from your beltloop soundtracks it, which you're thankful for. It covers the heavy breathing.
Just shy of the staircase leading up to the platform, which is almost shaking from the exertion of the performers on it, you hanger left into the room beside the dressing room.
While the dressing room is a dingy, theatrical maximalist's dream, the make-up department has a shell for a room. Bright white lights are overhead, to make sure the boys look amazing—which they always do regardless. Personally, you think this is all overkill. Takes away some of the authenticity. People swoon for The Scouts and the fact they're walking, talking hot messes. When the 'mess' is carefully applied with tiny brushes and kept in place with setting spray, it just doesn't hit the same.
Still, the fans are none the wiser, so who cares? Let them think Jeon Jungkook has flawless skin after an all-night bender.
Annoyingly, he normally does – but that's beyond the point.
"Here she is," Jinyu grins as you walk through the door with a little huff, immediately picking up a setlist by the door to fan your face.
Ethereal as usual, hair pulled back with a claw clip and a grown-out fringe framing her delicate features, Jinyu's mask pulled down to rest beneath her chin. A make-up brush is tucked behind her ear and half a dozen hair grips are biting onto the sleeve of her shirt, ready for the rush that will come with the next VCR break.
At least one of you is, you think.
She always is, though. Best of the bunch, she's the senior make-up artist, and has an example to lead by.
The rest of the make-up artists sit together in the far corner, nattering amongst themselves with far more animation than their hushed tones should really allow for. It's not an uncommon occurrence.
They like to pretend that they don't want anyone to know their business, but you've heard it all.
You could share, in quite some detail, how Jungkook likes to look at his regular make-up artist's lips whenever she's applying balm to his.
Apparently, the tension is 'off the charts', but he's 'too shy to do anything'. Always asks for balm, even when he doesn't need it. Or so she says.
You roll your eyes whenever you hear her brag about it, 'cause you've also heard the conversations that the boys have had behind closed doors. You know that if Jungkook is gonna be after any of the make-up artists, it's Jinyu—but the ring on her fourth finger and the toddler she sometimes brings to work on the quiet days is enough for him to stay away.
The lifestyles lived by The Scouts wouldn't allow for any of them to be playing 'Daddy'—though the girls who've squeezed into their tour bus bunks would probably beg to differ.
It's not just Jungkook who they like to gossip about—although he is the current flavour of the month, ever since he got that bloody lip ring.
In all honesty, you've heard so much shite about all five members that it's a miracle the girls still have jobs.
A new addition to the team since the overwhelming success of the last album run, the record label are keen on The Scouts keeping up their appearances. Gone are the days of sleeping in eyeliner and waking up with panda eyes—now it's carefully placed with precision beneath their tired lashlines, bloodshot eyes still bleary from the night before.
According to the last make-up room rumour mill, Tae is the type to send a late-night text to a handful of girls at once, just to see who bites (of which they all do, of course), and Yoongi is the type to sit silently in the make-up chair, only to make some absurdly unhinged comment as he leaves for the stage.
It's what they're talking about as you and Jinyu exchange glances with comically raised brows and wide eyes.
"Like, the whole time, he must have just been sat there, thinking about it," one of them swoons. "Didn't say a single word, and then just said 'your perfume smells nice, today,' as he was leaving."
The way they giggle makes your skin crawl. It's like they're constantly trying to one-up one another, using the men they work for as tools to do so – and you can't really blame them. As much as you may hate it, it's a man's world, especially in this industry. If you've gotta climb a few greasy poles to reach the top, then more power to those who choose to do so.
"He definitely spent the whole time thinking about it."
"What perfume are you wearing? I wouldn't mind him saying that to me..."
"God, he's such a dream boat."
"Something about him lately is just... ugh, off the charts. We need to stop styling his hair like that. It's too good."
You don't mean to be so judgemental – you've got a pair of eyes. Know exactly why they insist on giggling about their delusions.
Thing is, you can deal with the Jungkook gossip. Tae, Yoongi, Namjoon – whatever.
It's when they start talking about Jin and fail to hide the fact they're doing so that you're reminded of exactly why it grinds your gears so much.
In fact, quite frankly, you've a desire to pick up one of Jinyu's rattail combs and shove it into your ear. Would hope it'd impale your brain. You're not really sure how deep you'd have to go, but it would beat hearing them fawn over your older brother.
You've heard things being said about his hands that no younger sister should ever have to. Quite repulsive, actually.
Instead, you grimace, trying to gain back your breath following your sprint (of which Jimin would call a leisurely pace) up the corridor.
"Why does catering have to be so far from the dressing room?!"
Jinyu watches on with great amusement as you rest your hands on your knees, bending as if you've just run a 10k. Dramatics run in the family, or so it would seem.
"I dunno, babe," Jinyu purrs, her smile present just like it always is, voice a little extra loud to drown out the noise of the witches gathered in the corner. "Why was my favourite runner over in catering in the first place?"
You let your eyes narrow, her teasing grin only serving as a reminder that you really should know better than to keep on going back to the blueberry stash. It's not like you aren't allowed them. They'd all go to waste otherwise, so if anything, you're snacking on behalf of the company.
"You couldda just had them call one of the other runners back," you pout, knowing that it never would have been the case. She likes to make you work a little bit harder than the others, 'cause she knows you feel like you have more to prove.
Jinyu laughs, and passes you some hair grips to hook onto your sleeves for later. "You're the one who said you wanted to establish yourself! What was it you said at the start of these shows?"
You drop down onto the sofa next to her makeup station, tucking your legs up on the seat. The vibration of the music on stage pours through the walls at such a volume you're surprised you can even sustain a conversation.
"I'm gonna show them," Jinyu imitates with far more dramatic flair than you think is really necessary—but it is accurate. "I'll prove to them all that nepotism had nothing to do with me getting hired. Who, me?" She gasps."The baby sister of our very own World Wide Handsome? Hired because my brother pulled some strings? Never!"
"Fuck off," you laugh, tossing one of the sofa pillows towards her—but she catches it with ease because of course she does. Jinyu is everything you could ever aspire to be, hand-eye coordination included. The girls in the corner hush their conversation and begin to take an interest in your conversation. You ignore them, shrugging as you say, "It's not like I have a first-class degree in stage management or anything like that."
Sure, you have the qualifications—but you also aren't stupid. You know that the job is a favour amongst family. The job market these days is non-existent and while being Jin's sibling had afforded you a follower count worthy of an influencer, you need a purpose in life. It's no coincidence that you both showed an interest in the music industry—he's just far better suited to the performance side of it.
It would have been foolish to turn down the opportunity when Jin had mentioned it at a family dinner.
You're low-level, just a runner for now, but it's nice to be somewhere in which people don't give a shit about your famous brother. To most people here, he's a coworker, a colleague.
Outside of work, your entire personality to anyone you first meet is apparently being related to him. In all honestly, it's the same even in a professional capacity. Had started lying on your resume about your name, just so he wasn't the topic of conversation for all of your job interviews.
Remarkably, this is the only job that hasn't cared about him being your brother.
"Whatever you say. That's our cue. Off your arse," Jinyu says, her demeanour switching as the sound of the final chorus begins to simmer down. You don't need to be told twice, getting to your feet and into position beside her. "Can you be my right hand?"
♪ // Only Angel - Harry Styles 
"Sure," you nod, expecting nothing less. It's not much, just putting some hair grips in place while she touches up their stage makeup, and switching out brushes as and when she needs them. Just enough to be helpful without getting in her way.
The girls in the corner follow suit, standing behind their chairs, eager to see the men in all of their sweaty, worn-out glory. They've made no secret of their admiration, which is why Jinyu is such a breath of fresh air. A fair few years older than the boys, she's happily married and doesn't care to swoon over them.
Like a force of nature, The Scouts rumble into the room - lips ajar, chest heaving, hair damp with sweat. 
Jungkook is first, slamming his body down into one of the chairs, in dire need of something other than the piss-warm beer he's got up on stage. Tossing him a bottle of water from the countertop behind you, he catches it with ease. Smirks. Looks at you with all the adrenaline he's stolen from the eyes of the fans that adore him. Legs wide, bottle undone with one hand, there's a challenge to his gaze. Performing is a fuckin' drug to Jeon Jungkook - you just wish he didn't keep such a fucked-out look on that pretty face of his whenever he finishes. 
So yeah, maybe you do get why the girls chitchat in the way that they do. 
The rest of the band follow in, equally trashed, in the best possible way. Taehyung's shirt has miraculously lost all of its buttons, and Namjoon's T-shirt is now slung around his shoulders like a towel. His hair drips with sweat, arms swollen from the exertion of the last few days of shows. 
Behind them, Yoongi strolls with an air of arrogance he carries off ever so well. Indifferent. Just as covered in sweat, but without the entire body exhaustion the other Scouts are displaying. He's too cool for his own good. Doesn't look at you. Looks right through you. Asshole. 
And then finally, presumably because he was too busy flirting with the audience, the Scout Leader himself makes his grand entrance. Plastic cup in hand, he's nursing a Jack and Coke. Doesn't see the point in all this make-up malarky, when he knows he's just gonna sweat it off anyway. Would much rather actually take this time to recharge, even if just for a second. Thought that adding VCR's to shows would allow them more time for that, and is sorely disappointed by the reality of it.
"Fucking hell, has it been raining?" You deadpan when he slinks down into the chair opposite you and Jinyu. "Y'know, you should get some of those sweat-reduction botox injections. Would work wonders."
He looks at you with disdain that clearly tells you to fuck off. He stays silent. Kicks your shin, instead. You kick him right back.
"I swear the pair of you are worse than my two-year-old," Jinyu sighs as she drapes a towel around Jin's shoulders.
"Someone needs to humble him," you shrug.
"Someone needs to fire you," he says right back, not realising that Jinyu had passed you her hair mister, earning himself a spritz of water to the face.
Effective immediately, your hair mister privileges are taken away. Jinyu's pleasant smile looks almost stern as she takes it, putting it down on the dressing table with a thud.
"We've got three minutes," she reminds you.
"Sorry boss," you quip, not wanting her to actually get pissed off at you. There are certain liberties you can take, but you're supposed to be helping her, not a hindrance.
There's subdued energy in the room now that the boys have settled, not wanting to waste their fuel anywhere other than the stage. As you push grips into Jin's hair, ready for hairspray, you watch the room in the mirror view.
Taehyung is on his phone, not paying any attention to what's going on, his makeup artist working silently. Jungkook is patting down his own face with powder while his stylist teases his hair just right.
You look at him for a little too long, his eyes coming to meet yours in the mirror. Despite the pitch-black darkness of his irises, there's a lightness in his gaze—one that has your skin feeling all prickly and hot, eyes darting back down to Jin's hair.
You think you can hear him laughing to himself.
It's confirmed when Jimin waltzes into the room, clipboard in hand and asks, "What's got you giggling, Kook?"
He lies, and says he's thinking about his dog, Bam, just to save you from embarrassment.
You glance back up to where his eyes are already waiting for yours, brows lifted as he smirks. You make vague shapes with your mouth as if you're telling him to 'fuck off,' which only serves to make him laugh again, a little harder this time. He keeps it quiet, shoulders bobbing up and down, his smile magnetic.
It's all in good fun. There's been a running joke for years now that you'll date Jungkook just to piss off Jin.
You already know his make-up artist will twist that moment to her own liking, making up some bullshit about him laughing with her, but it's barely worth your energy.
Beside him, Jimin vies for attention from Yoongi, who looks like he's in need of a good nap. 
There's a sheen to his skin, sweat dripping down his neck thanks to his make-up artists failing to grab him a towel. You call for Jimin's attention, and once you have it, you chuck him one of the spare towels over your shoulder. He tilts his head in confusion, but when you nod towards Yoongi, he understands.
The towel is passed along, a simple 'hm?' from Yoongi to question where it came from. Jimin nods towards you, and Yoongi takes a second to observe what you're doing. You're not looking at him, because quite frankly, he intimidates you.
He never used to.
In fact, you used to get along quite well—but you're vaguely aware of the fact he doesn't approve of nepotism, and knows that the only reason you secured this job is because of Jin.
It makes you feel a little embarrassed. A little ashamed. None of the other boys seem to care, but it puts you on edge with Yoongi. You try extra hard—be extra diligent—with him. He seems to be the one you seek validation from the most, despite him being the one you interact with the least.
In the corner of the room, Taehyung and Namjoon discuss the next song. A change from yesterday's set, they've been switching up songs so that no one really knows what to expect next. Have to keep things fresh. Keep their names trending. Get those streams. Meet industry targets set by suits with no real understanding of what it means to make art.
It's admirable how much they cram into such little time. Masters of their craft, it's an honour to see them work. It's without a doubt that they've earned their success.
You kind of get why Yoongi is hesitant of you. You feel underqualified, as if you haven't worked hard enough to earn the role you've been given—but you have. You have the credentials. Jin opened the door for you, yes, but you're the one who had the key in the first place.
You're distracted by your thoughts when your phone buzzes in your back pocket. The vibration hums just a little bit longer than any of your other app notifications, so you know exactly what it is. Know who it is.
Kind of.
There's a little bit of bashful shame that washes over your features, fearful someone will hear the buzz and recognise its length—not that anyone would notice the soft purr in the back pocket of your jeans, cushioned by your ass. It's just as incognito as the man who's sending you a message is.
Your phone buzzes a few times. Seven, to be precise.
Needy, you think to yourself—but it pleases you. He never fails to disappoint.
Well, rarely. You've been waiting half an hour for a message from him, and it's so bloody typical that it would come through when you're finally busy.
"Positions!" Jimin calls from the corridor, letting the boys know their rest time is up.
Jinyu casts an authoritative eye over the boys, checking to make sure they all look okay before sending them on their way.
"Hair grip," she reminds Jungkook's stylist, who had left a tiny little clip in his fringe. She flusters, embarrassed at missing such a detail, but Jungkook just pulls it from his fringe without much care as he puts his phone back on its wireless charging port.
Namjoon follows suit, reminded that his phone was in his back pocket, tossing it on one of the dressing room tables. Yoongi tucks his phone into a bag by the sofa, and Tae does the same.
They file out in good spirits, hyping one another up for the final part of the show, staff patting their backs and cheering on words of encouragement. It's always bittersweet for them; their final performances are their favourites, but they're also the ones in which they know they'll be saying farewell—and no one likes goodbyes.
You watch with fondness as the stage-cam plays on the TV in the corner of the room. There's something about the five of them together, on stage, surrounded by an ocean of unadulterated love and affection, that feels like watching magic. It's the kind of thing that only happens once in a lifetime. You're thankful you get to witness it in all its glory. You'll probably watch the final few songs from the side of the stage, just to feel even an ounce of what the boys do.
Sinking back into the sofa, the scent of hot, sweaty men clouding the air, you pull your phone from your pocket—and sure enough, you're met with the notifications you've been hoping for.
New Secret from D4m0cl3s D4m0cl3s: late shift tonight, sorry one of the girls on my team made a joke about how tense i seem to be said i need to get laid... i told her she needs to mind her own fucking business but... it also got me thinking about you i finish in an hour give me a reason not to go out and get laid
You smile, as the heat that pricked at your skin when Jungkook caught your eye earlier that evening returns.
Part of you toys with the idea of 'what if it's him?' His phone is face down on its charger, all of his secrets hidden from the world.
Part of you hopes it is, just for the knowledge of it irritating the fuck out of Jin and the girls who are sat in the corner, gossiping about his giggling earlier.
Realistically, you know it's not. It's impossible.
You've been sent enough pictures from your Damocles boy of his hands doing unthinkable things to know it can't be Jungkook. They're free of ink, pristine and pale, a little pink in their tone, and the only clue you have of who the fuck you spend so much time talking to.
"Where are you off to now?!" Jinyu asks as you head for the door, somehow surprised that you're dipping again.
"Catering," you lie, knowing full well you're going to find somewhere private enough to give your Damocles boy exactly what he's after.
"You'll turn into a blueberry," she warns you. You hold back a laugh, and resist the urge to tell her that what you're actually about to turn into is a clementine.
There are half a dozen doors down the corridor, but you slide into the first storage cupboard you come across. It's empty, and there's a lock on it, which is all you really need.
If you'd have stayed in the dressing room, it would have been a tomato you turned into, instead. Your cheeks would flush scarlet red, just like they did when the familiar purr of a Hush notification chimed far too loudly for something that's supposed to be all about keeping secrets.
You'd take a second. Wouldn't want to check your own phone, 'cause then all the girls would know you'd received a message from a hook-up app.
But you're not in the room. Nor is your phone.
And they all hear it regardless.
The girls who gossip pause, wondering if they've all heard the same thing. Jinyu is oblivious, happily married and unaware of what Hush even really is, let alone the vibrate tone.
One, two, three messages ping their way from your phone to his, but you're none the wiser. Haven't got a clue.
It's been three months, and neither one of you has any desire to disclose your identity to the other. You're serving a purpose; fulfilling a need.
Why ruin a good thing?
You aren't 'good', nor opposed to being ruined—but that's neither really here nor there. You've got a system that works, and it would be foolish to change things now.
You return to the dressing room, unaware that your phone isn't the only device within those four walls littered with pictures of your bare chest. In fact, everyone is unaware. It's your own little secret that you don't even realise you're keeping, and one that you intend on taking to the grave.
"No blueberries?" Jinyu asks as you return empty-handed.
"Got distracted," you lie, as you settle back into the sofa, a pleasant air surrounding you. On the screen, the boys are laughing, indulging in the energy of their fans for the final time that evening.
"By?" she presses, curious as to why you're looking all smitten as you watch the screen.
It's got nothing to do with any of them.
Or so you think.
It's actually got a whole lot to do with one of them.
You just don't realise it yet.
And so you simply shrug, and say, "Secret."
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"C'mon," Jungkook grins, eyes still swathed by the glow of mobile phone flashlights held up during the encore, even a whole thirty minutes after the show is over. He tugs on your arm, but you remain fixed in place, shaking your head. "We're all going, aren't we?"
The question is addressed to the boys, but he's still looking at you. You wish he wouldn't. Not when he looks like that.
His lips are wet, freshly licked, glistening like his silver lip ring, and his hair is still a little damp around the nape of his neck. There's something about him that looks a lot like magic. It's a wonder you haven't fallen under his spell.
"Uh-huh," Jin nods, tossing back the dregs of his final jack and coke. He's not yet run the rider dry, but it doesn't matter. He'll take the bottle with him, and wherever they end up won't turn them away, for they know he'll buy more – though the bar will likely comp it through. "You can ride with me."
Jungkook's grin widens. He loves it when a plan comes together.
♪ // No Shame - Five Seconds of Summer
"C'mon," Jungkook says again. Is quiet in his tone. Persuasive. "I'll miss you if you're not there."
"Is that supposed to make me feel a certain type of way?" You deadpan. "Try it on one of the makeup girlies. They'll eat it right up."
"Don't wanna try it on one of them," he whines a little, nudging his shoulder against yours. "It's our final show. We're celebrating."
"Your final show," you remind him. "I've got a gig next week. Some European group-"
"Don't care," he says. "You're ours for the night. Come party."
You roll your eyes back so hard it feels like you might have just seen your frontal lobe, but there's a smile on your lips, too. It's nice to feel wanted; appreciated. 
The invite isn't extended to the make-up artists, who are busy packing away, hoping that Jungkook's neediness will shift to them instead. It won't, but they can keep dreaming.
"If I come - and it's a strong if - you're paying," you bargain.
All you really want is to get home as quickly as you possibly can. Had even considered ordering a taxi before the boys had finished their set, but knew Jimin would have a field day with that one. Might even dock your pay just to be a little git.
You've a date with your phone, but the draw of real life is just too tempting.
It's difficult, because you know that you should want to go out, want to celebrate the fact you can actually go out now that the shows are done... but a random dude sending dick pics somehow seems to be more appealing. 
It's tragic, really. Something that you never wanna have to explain. You think you'd rather die. Are shameful of your shamelessness. Ironic.
And right on time, a buzz in your back pocket rumbles through you like a crack of lightning; burns your cheeks a pretty posy pink. 
Jungkook's ignorance of your reaction is a blessing. You're not sure how you would've explained it away - though knowing Jungkook, he'd have used your blush to wind Jin up. Attribute it to himself. Play into the idea of you hooking up with him.
It's not like you've never considered it – but lately, it's been hard to 'consider' anyone other than your Damocles boy.
You're reminded of him now – his thick, pink knuckles, and his notably thicker, marginally less pink cock- and how he said that someone on his team told him he needed to get laid. You can't help but think the same for yourself. 
It's not healthy, the way you're so drawn to the excitement a few pixels can give you. Is stopping you from living your real life.
There's an unease in your stomach; guilt, almost.
So you groan, knock your head back, and concede. "Fine!"
"Attagirl!" Jungkook beams as he pulls his phone from his pocket, checking the time and pushing it back into his jeans again. He reaches over for his bag, the scent of his aftershave catching you off guard. There's something about him... Something you know you should ignore, but are finding harder and harder to do so with each and every passing day. "We good to go?"
"Who else is coming?" You hum, heading to the coat rack to pick up your jacket. Tae is leaning against the door frame, shaking his head.
"Not me. Got a date with my bed," he says, ending his sentence with a yawn. He covers it with the back of his hand, but it's so loud you almost find yourself yawning too.
"Pussy," Jungkook scoffs. "Final show and-"
"Me either," Yoongi says as he walks past, not looking in your direction. The jacket that hangs around his broad shoulders is dark, just like his mood always seems these days.
You're not exactly sure when he decided that you weren't worthy of his time, but you're used to it now. Sucks, but such is life. He's always been a little like this, but it's your first time being on the receiving end of his coldness.
"Hot date with your bed?" You tease, hoping to get a little bit of warmth from him.
As he reaches the door, it surprises you both when he turns to look at you. There's a stillness to him; the slow evaporation of cloudy breaths in sub-zero temperatures. His eyes meet yours, and drop down your body. Pause when they land on your palms, and the phone that's being held in them.
His gaze returns to your eyes, fast quicker this time, and then he shrugs. "Yeah, something like that."
He doesn't wait for a reply. You don't intend on giving him one, either.
"And then there were 5," Jungkook sighs. "Fuck it, let's go."
Tumblr media Tumblr media
STAIRWAY BAR Itaewon-ro, Yongsan-Gu
♪ // Heaven and Back - Chase Atlantic
There's something sordid about the place you're in. Could be the neon lights on the walls, could be the walls lined with stacks upon stacks of old vinyl records. Could be the birdcages where lampshades should be, or it could be the worn-out leather sofas you're on in the corner of the room. Could be the punters, and how they're all wrapped in their own personal brand of sin, too busy to notice the living legends walking amongst them.
Truthfully, it's why the boys like places like this. They become one with the shadows. Can hide. Do things in secret that other people do in public. It's not like they're actively looking for trouble, but they can't help but seem to find it. Whether it be women, drugs, booze, it doesn't matter – they've each got a kryptonite.
Regretfully, you know Jin's: women who are no good for him. Blonde, brunette, foreign, local, he doesn't give a shit. All that matters is they know who he is, and they want him in inexplicable ways.
Credit where it's due, they all have conviction. All get exactly what they want – but he's easy. Sluts himself out for the fun of it; for the novelty of being a 'rockstar'.
It's gotten worse since their last big award show win. He's getting careless. Has never been one to hand out NDAs, but the kind of people he's attracting now really should have gag orders – issue is, Jin's always far more focused on finding out how sensitive their gag reflex is.
Namjoon's is his inability to say 'no'. Afterparty? He's there. Toke on a joint that has no business being in the hands of such a high-profile man? Go on, then. An upper before a show? Don't mind if I do.
It's a disaster waiting to happen. Anywhere else and you wouldn't worry. In the States, it'd be a non-issue. Expected, even.
The laws aren't so forgiving, here. One bad decision and that's it. Jail time. But sir, I'm a rockstar, pwetty pwease let me go, won't work on a court judge, and even if it did, the court of public opinion and trial by social media would run him into the ground regardless.
Unfair? You think so, yes. Just how life goes? Also yes.
Though they all push the limits to a certain extent, it's Jungkook that's the biggest risk of all. He's the youngest. Got girls lining around the block just to have a look at him. Is bad in a way that girls convince themselves is good. I can fix him. All starry-eyed and sex appeal, there's nothing innocent about him. Nothing.
S'why you know better than to indulge in his flirt – because that's all it ever is. A limit to push. A boundary to break. A challenge he wants to win.
In quite the contrast, Taehyung keeps his boundaries watertight. Doesn't stray, doesn't overindulge. Goes home to a partner who'd give him the world, if he asked – but he won't. See, Kim Taehyung already has the world. Not his career (though it could be argued), not his money, not his fame. They're perks, sure – but his world waits up for him with his favourite snacks on the kitchen counter, ready to hear all about the show.
It's only the close circle that knows. The make-up girls don't have a clue. Jinyu is well aware, but not because it's ever been discussed. She just knows. Is intuitive, like that. Probably knows more about the boys' business than even Jimin does – and it's his job to know their business.
Though the boys would argue that Yoongi has no weakness, you believe otherwise.
His Achilles heal is found in his solitude. His laissez-faire attitude to the world around him stunts his enjoyment of it, you think. He's never gonna be in his twenties in the biggest band in the world ever again. These days will pass him by, and he's wasting them.
If he were to know you felt this way, he wouldn't dignify you with a response; he'd just show up to even fewer events to spite you. Has no interest in your unsolicited opinions of him.
Because you're wrong about his weaknesses.
While yes, his solitude exacerbates them, it's the silence that nurtures his weaknesses: his regrets. His inability to forget. Forgive. Let things go. He fixates, and it frustrates him to the point of fury.
His kryptonite is not how little he cares. Quite contrary. It's how violently he does care. That's what ties his shoelaces together and trips him up. Gives him a bloody nose. Scrapes his knees. Leaves him bloodied and bruised; pink in his pain.
But that's your kryptonite: your cocksure arrogance in thinking you know everything.
Or at least, that's what Yoongi would tell you, if he were ever to get into this debate with you.
He won't.
Again, you'll think it's because he's laissez-faire. That he doesn't care.
Regretfully, you'll be wrong – but he's the one who simmers over regrets, not you.
"Alright, alright!" You laugh, a little unsteady on your feet as you stand up after god-knows how many shots. Namjoon reaches out to steady you. Glances at Jin as if to say, 'kids, eh?'
You're all fucked. Have had far too much, but you figure that's what nights like these are for – who cares? You're celebrating.
Jin just smiles. Rolls his eyes, then averts his attention to the blonde by the bar who's gonna take your seat as soon as you leave.
Jungkook doesn't notice, cause he's too busy laughing at you.
"Just gonna run to the bathroom," you declare, as if they need to know such details. "Need to pee."
"Bathrooms just round the other side of the projector screen," Jimin tells you, nodding in its direction, 'cause even though it's after hours and he's far too heavily intoxicated, he can't help but be resourceful. That's his kryptonite. Can never switch off. "Just up the stairs."
It's not even like you need direction. Have been to this bar more times than you've had hot dinners.
Jungkook laughs. Thinks you're full of shit. 
"Your tolerance is going down in your old age," he teases, as if you're not the same age. "Tactical chunders are for the weak."
You tell him to go fuck himself, and he laughs, all hearty and warm.  "Gladly."
Their chatter continues without you. The blonde joins, and so does her friend. Someone's getting lucky tonight, and you're pretty sure it'll be all four of them. Thoughts you'd rather not think, honestly.
Teeny tiny is the bathroom. Cramped. A single cubicle is in working order and the hot tap has been broken for as long as you've been visiting this place. It definitely violates some health and safety codes, but who really gives enough of a shit to report it?
Holding your fingers beneath the already running tap, you check the temperature – as if the hot tap even works – and wait for a moment just to be sure. Icy cold, as always.
Lost in the sensation of the water, you forget for a moment why you're there.
While yeah, you could have a drink from the tap, you could have just gotten water at the bar.
Brain all fuzzy, you can't put your finger on it - until your phone vibrates in your back pocket.
And then suddenly, you remember exactly why you're in the bathroom.
Tumblr media
11:37PM
D4m0cl3s: fuck, you look so good such a tease i'll be home as soon as i can be been thinking about you all night
11:58PM
i'm home let me know when you're free
00:16AM
you're taking your precious time tonight
00:21AM
what's the deal, huh? tryna get me all frustrated?
00:23AM
it's working
00:39AM
damn maybe that girl on my team was right maybe i should have just gone out and got laid tonight
01:05AM
really? even me being an asshole isn't working? is it compliments you want? you know i'll give you them
01:28AM
okay so i actually am a bit worried now, let me know when you're home safe, m'kay?
Cl3m3ntin3: you know what they say treat 'em mean, keep 'em keen
D4m0cl3s: FINALLY
Cl3m3ntin3: damn, you really are keen aren't you
D4m0cl3s: you were gone so long i was thinking about watching porn PORN you know how long it's been since i watched porn?
Cl3m3ntin3: if my calculations are correct, about 3 months?
D4m0cl3s: ... you're smart, clem but also so mean, my god got me all riled up and kept me waiting HOURS
Cl3m3ntin3: i'm sorry i'm here now and i'm thinking about you, too
D4m0cl3s: are you still out? at work?
Cl3m3ntin3: uh-huh out not at work, tho
Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!
D4m0cl3s: fucking hell, clem your tits look so good come here wanna hold them
Cl3m3ntin3: give me an address and i'll get in a taxi right now we can keep the lights off, never have to see each other keep things anon but i gottaaaa feel your hands on my chest
D4m0cl3s: i wish i could wish i could just fuck you like we both know you deserved to be fucked
Cl3m3ntin3: i'm not stopping you
D4m0cl3s: we both know that isn't entirely true
Cl3m3ntin3: do we? give me an address doesn't have to be yours hotel sex is always fun
D4m0cl3s: i have a feeling all sex with you will be fun location is irrelevant
Cl3m3ntin3: well i'm currently in a bathroom stall hiding from my friends just so i can reply to you you reckon a bathroom stall would be fun?
D4m0cl3s: i reckon i love a challenge
Cl3m3ntin3: well i mean i could always send you my current location...
D4m0cl3s: tempting... but no.
Cl3m3ntin3: you're your own worst cock block, damocles boy
D4m0cl3s: it's called deprivation, baby yanno, kind of like what you did when you kept me waiting for hours gonna make you want me so badly it hurts
Cl3m3ntin3: i already do which is why you should come and put me out of my misery
D4m0cl3s: you're with your friends, you're fine ;) actually you drinking?
Cl3m3ntin3: a little
D4m0cl3s: a little?
Cl3m3ntin3: ...a lottle?
D4m0cl3s: the fact you just said lottle tells me all i need to know lmao you know the drill, clem
Cl3m3ntin3: :((((( noooooo
D4m0cl3s: stop pouting
Cl3m3ntin3: i can't :(((
D4m0cl3s: you can i meant what i said about no drunk messages only want you doing this when your head is clear
Cl3m3ntin3: my head is clear and my head thinks you should stop thinking with yours actually start thinking with your dick instead :)
D4m0cl3s: fine then let's see how clear your head is send me a video of you walking in a straight line
Cl3m3ntin3: you just wanna see my feet perv
D4m0cl3s: video
Cl3m3ntin3: fineeee, fucking fine!
Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!
D4m0cl3s: oh yeah fuck that clem, you're pissed as a fart hahaha i'm not even sure you tried to walk in a straight line, you wobbly mess cute laugh tho get some water in you go back to your friends we can talk in the morning
Cl3m3ntin3: but i wanna talk now :( missed u today
D4m0cl3s: missed u too will miss you tonight but i'll wait
Cl3m3ntin3: :( whyyy do you have to be so good all the time :(
D4m0cl3s: because we both know that the second you send me a picture of your perfect little pussy, i won't be good
Cl3m3ntin3: now?
D4m0cl3s: no, baby in the morning, okay? drink some water.
Cl3m3ntin3: fine
D4m0cl3s: watch your attitude
Cl3m3ntin3: sighhh :((
D4m0cl3s: don't you'll make me feel bad just get yourself home and to bed and you can wake up to this tomorrow...
D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!
Cl3m3ntin3: BRB, sprinting home
D4m0cl3s: shut up idiot enjoy your night lemme know when ur home
Cl3m3ntin3: okay :( sweet dreams, damocles boy x
D4m0cl3s: speak soon, clemmie x
D4m0cl3s is offline
Tumblr media
08:58AM
D4m0cl3s: morning clemmie
Cl3m3ntin3: hereee he is was wondering when you'd be up
D4m0cl3s: been up ages was wondering if today would finally be the day you message me first ;)
Cl3m3ntin3: why would i ever do that? we both know you can't bear to be away from this chat thread for more than a few hours
D4m0cl3s: your ego never fails to amaze me
Cl3m3ntin3: i'm a product of your creation, damocles boy you told me last week that i'm the only thing that gets you hard these days and you expect me not to get an ego?
D4m0cl3s: hope you know that when i actually get to fuck you, there's no room in my bed for your ego
Cl3m3ntin3: oh bite me you're gonna be putty in my hands
D4m0cl3s: i'm really gonna have to fuck the ego out of you, aren't i? get your little attitude problem in check and biting? you into that?
Cl3m3ntin3: i'd like to see you try like i said, this is aaaaall your fault if you can't control yourself over a message thread, how the fuck will you cope when I'm in front of you? and pls i'm gonna be the one fucking you it's cute that you think otherwise stupid <33 but cute :)
D4m0cl3s: i literally hate you
Cl3m3ntin3: you gonna hate me when im on my knees between your legs?
D4m0cl3s: yep
Cl3m3ntin3: gonna hate me when i run my tongue up and down that pretty cock of yours?
D4m0cl3s: yep
Cl3m3ntin3: gonna hate me when i wrap my lips around your tip? when i take your hard cock in my warm, wet mouth?
D4m0cl3s: yep and yep
Cl3m3ntin3: gonna hate me when i take you so deep my eyes start watering?
D4m0cl3s: uh-huh
Cl3m3ntin3: you're a tough bargainer :(
D4m0cl3s: just means im gonna fuck you like i hate you
Cl3m3ntin3: no you're not :) you're gonna be soooo shy so timid so scared of fucking up because of how badly you want me
D4m0cl3s: the way you're gonna eat your fucking words actually makes me laugh
Cl3m3ntin3: i wanna hear your laugh
D4m0cl3s: you can hear it when you finally fuck me
Cl3m3ntin3: i could have fucked you last night you said no &lt;//3
D4m0cl3s: incorrect i said not when you're drunk
Cl3m3ntin3: i'm a good fuck when im drunk
D4m0cl3s: i'm pretty sure you're a good fuck regardless of your blood alcohol concentration i've seen how you fuck your toys i know you're a good fuck
Cl3m3ntin3: like this?
Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!
D4m0cl3s: just like that fuck that's it, baby i like that toy what is it? glass? always looks so good when you sink it into your pussy so so wet, fucking hell
Cl3m3ntin3: glass, uh-huh you should get one for yourself
D4m0cl3s: myself?
Cl3m3ntin3: yourself
D4m0cl3s: i'm not sure that's my kinda thing, clemmie
Cl3m3ntin3: only one way to find out plus i remember how hard you came that time i got you to play with your ass a little
D4m0cl3s: shut up omg
Cl3m3ntin3: seeeeee, i'm totally gonna be the one doing the fucking :D
D4m0cl3s: you're not touching my ass
Cl3m3ntin3: i'm gonna eat it :)
D4m0cl3s: you're gonna do no such thing
Cl3m3ntin3: hehe okay whatever you say :D can't wait to say i told you so when you're face down ass up whining about how good my tongue feels :D
D4m0cl3s: and this is exactly why you need the ego fucked out of you never gonna happen
Cl3m3ntin3: you'll be begging for it one day but fineeeee, if u say so tell me how you'd do it, then? how would you fuck the ego (that you gave me!!!) outta me? tell me how you'd ruin me, damocles boy
D4m0cl3s: show me your pussy first let me look at how wet you are right now
Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!
D4m0cl3s: god, look at you if this is how wet you get thinking about eating my ass... we can put it on the maybe list but you'd be on your back, like you are now exactly like that, perfect and spread for me i'd start with my fingers
D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!
these two i'll push them into you so slowly that you'll be begging for more you'll be all whiney (so no change to normal lmao) but i'll curl them a little, just like you said you like it, and use my thumb to toy with your clit
Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!
D4m0cl3s: fuck i love it when you send videos i could watch that forever literal cinema the way your pussy leaks for me, christ i wouldn't be able to watch your pussy leak like that without licking it up i'd keep my thumb on your clit, gently circling it as my tongue began to toy with your entrance you'd be so leaky on my tongue wouldn't you? so so fuckin' wet for me
D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!
it's mutual, just so you know
Cl3m3ntin3: god i fucking love it when your tip gets all wet like that you are soooooo needy you wanna fuck me soooooo bad he he i stay winning!!!
D4m0cl3s: CLEM. CONTROL. YOUR. EGO!!
Cl3m3ntin3: FUCK. IT. OUT. OF. ME!!!!
D4m0cl3s: your ego is so big i think i'll just have to fuck you for hours at this point :/
Cl3m3ntin3: oh no :( such a shame !!! :(
D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!
D4m0cl3s: just imagine this stretching your tight little pussy open my cock is so much bigger than that dildo
Cl3m3ntin3: can't wait to feel you inside me i know it's gonna hurt but in like... the best possible way you're so big and thick such a nice cock ♡♡
D4m0cl3s: i'll go slow with you baby ease you into it
Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!
Cl3m3ntin3: you've got me soooo wet i think it'll be easy to push into me fill me up
D4m0cl3s: my needy girl look at you my cock belongs inside you your pussy already belongs to me
Cl3m3ntin3: come and claim it
D4m0cl3s: you're making it harder and harder to say no fuck im close
Cl3m3ntin3: same i wanna watch you cum
D4m0cl3s: fuck it i'll call? we can finish together?
Cl3m3ntin3: please
Incoming call from D4m0cl3s Accept | Decline (03 minutes : 14 seconds)
Call ended.
Cl3m3ntin3: nice work
D4m0cl3s: pleasure doing business
Cl3m3ntin3: as always i totally heard that little giggle tho ;)
D4m0cl3s: fuck off what giggle
Cl3m3ntin3: the one you did after you came all over your tummy :)♡♡
D4m0cl3s: never giggled in my life ever
Cl3m3ntin3: liar x
D4m0cl3s: i only laughed cause you did too >:(
Cl3m3ntin3: and i only laughed cause of how hard you made me cum you've got a gift, damocles boy
D4m0cl3s: and you've got the nicest pussy i've ever seen in my whole entire life
Cl3m3ntin3: you have to use a dating app to get your rocks off deffo a virgin :/ never seen a pussy before in your life :/ not much competition to compare me to, is there? :/
D4m0cl3s: i really do mean it when i say i hate you :) x
Cl3m3ntin3: i know you do babe
D4m0cl3s: wish we were never matched, actually
Cl3m3ntin3: same might just block you actually
D4m0cl3s: PLEASE put me out of my misery
Cl3m3ntin3: okay :D bye forever :D
D4m0cl3s: wait no don't :(
Cl3m3ntin3: you're a bloody seesaw boy always up and down either hate me or love me make up your mind !!
D4m0cl3s: lmao you've no idea but where's the fun in that? i like keeping you on your toes
Cl3m3ntin3: true i gotta run tho got a date with a real boy seeyaaaa x
D4m0cl3s: wooooah wait wait a date?
Cl3m3ntin3: yeah with someone in like.. real life... problem?
D4m0cl3s: no problem just surprised that's all
Cl3m3ntin3: that someone would want to date me?
D4m0cl3s: no that you'd want to date someone else
Cl3m3ntin3: breaking news: girl in her early twenties wants more than nudes from a stranger on the internet
D4m0cl3s: fair enough probably shouldn't continue this, then a heads up would have been nice
Cl3m3ntin3: you wanna stop?
D4m0cl3s: no no, i really don't, clem but you're right you do deserve more
Cl3m3ntin3: yeah i do
D4m0cl3s: i actually hate this wtf like i know you can do what you like and i can do what i like but i thought we had something good going?
Cl3m3ntin3: we do thank god i'm just lying about a date for attention :) &lt;3
D4m0cl3s: what the fuck clem
Cl3m3ntin3: made you shit your pants didn't i
D4m0cl3s: CLEM.
Cl3m3ntin3: DAMOCLES BOY.
D4m0cl3s: so you're not going on a date?
Cl3m3ntin3: no you idiot you think i have enough time to be meeting new people when i spend all my free time sending you nudes? was just fucking with you wanted to see if you cared
D4m0cl3s: you could have just asked
Cl3m3ntin3: you'd have told me you hate me
D4m0cl3s: BECAUSE I DO you're actually mental
Cl3m3ntin3: he he u luv it
D4m0cl3s: i don't
Cl3m3ntin3: do basically started crying when you thought someone else might take your place
D4m0cl3s: you didn't even give me a chance to clean myself up you fucking menace !! just made me cum and then did a 180 what did you expect me to do?! you know how sad my dick looks right now?
Cl3m3ntin3: no show me
D4m0cl3s: get fucked you little cretin
Cl3m3ntin3: let me see your sad cock :(
D4m0cl3s: you're never seeing it again you don't deserve it after that little stunt
Cl3m3ntin3: so... ill see it tonight?
D4m0cl3s: .... .......... ............... probably now fuck off i've got a day to get on with might even go on a date
Cl3m3ntin3: no you won't :D
D4m0cl3s: i hate you x
Cl3m3ntin3: denial x
D4m0cl3s is offline
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"Jesus Christ," you say, tone full of surprise when you walk into your living room. It's just gone midday, and you've finally risen from your hangover pit of despair.
Following the conversation with your Damocles boy, you had decided a nap was in order, but it only served to make your headache even worse. Turns out, the orgasm had just been a temporary solution. You need paracetemol, and you need it now.
"Jimin, actually," an equally hungover mess groans from your sofa. He's bundled in blankets, a pouty chin hooked over the armrest to look at you with puppy dog eyes. His expression screams 'water pls'.
"And Jungkook," a second voice whines from behind the sofa. A hand rises from the direction of the voice, covered in thick black inkings, before falling with a thud.
Your lips hang ajar as you look at them both, far more confused than you should be. When you glance over to the kitchen counter, you're greeted with the sight of what must have been a rager. There are bottles everywhere - mainly soju and beer - and there's a sticky sheen pooling around their bases. A packet of crisps is open on the hob, but most of the actual crisps are scattered on the floor. You're willing to bet good money on Jungkook being responsible for those.
"The fuck happened last night?" You ask, though you're able to pick up enough context clues from the photobooth pictures that are on your fridge door. They're stuck in place with washi tape, of which you don't remember buying.
"You didn't buy it," Jungkook says when you ask about it. "Stole it from the photobooth place. Little klepto."
"Brilliant," you grimace. The last thing you need is a scandal going around about Kim Seokjin's troublesome younger sister and her thieving ways. The media love a scandal, and Jin has been able to avoid them for the most part. "Joon and Jin?"
"Headed home before us," Jimin tells you. "Really don't remember a thing, do you?"
The last thing you remember is messaging your Damocles boy in the bathroom stall. You don't even really remember how the conversation ended. The rest of the night? Never happened, in your mind.
Still reeling, the day wastes away from you all.
It's spent huddled up on your sofa, Jungkook's Spotify connected to your speaker, as you try and decipher exactly what happened the night before. It's like you're the cast of a shitty Hollywood movie from 10 years ago - nothing makes sense, but it also kind of all does. Jungkook's got the least patchy memories. Remembers how you got home, at least.
There's only one thing he doesn't mention - partially because it happened this morning, not last night, but also because he wants to spare your dignity.
He's a light sleeper. Especially the mornings after a few too many drinks. As soon as the alcohol flushes his body, he has to get up, get water, go to the bathroom. Set his world to rights. This morning had been no exception.
Just a shame he happened to wake a mere matter of moments before your Damocles boy had called you.
No words had been spoken, no conversation took place - but with your phone angled awkwardly for prime shots of your most intimate areas, you had moaned a little louder than usual to make sure the mic picked it up.
And so Jungkook had heard it all - and had recognised the click of a Hush call coming to an end. He's had more than enough himself to know the tone by now.
Watching on as you laugh with Jimin about something nonsensical, mid-afternoon sun pouring through the cracks in your curtains, Jungkook is curious.
You don't notice the way he's studying you, nibbling on his lip ring as he does so.
The running joke between the pair of you about dating to piss off Jin has always been exactly that - a joke - but the idea of you dating someone else in the industry makes him feel a little... off.
He doesn't question it, though. Doesn't really know what to make of it. Doesn't like it, mind you.
As the evening begins to draw in, Jimin leaves first, with Jungkook set to follow suit half an hour later. He tells you he'll leave at 6, but he's still on your sofa when it hits 7:05PM.
"There's something about you lately," he says, scheming, dark eyes narrow. You narrow yours back right back.
"How so?"
"Dunno," he smiles. He wants to ask who you're fucking about with, but it seems too forward. You're close, and have been for years, but not as close as you used to be. His fault, really. He's the one who ditched you when he started dating some songwriter a few years back. "You just seem... preoccupied. What's going on with you, fizz?"
The nickname is so natural that it rolls off Jungkook's tongue as if he hadn't stopped calling you it around the same time he got that girlfriend. She didn't last long, but the slight chill to your friendship had.
"Haven't heard that in a while," you smile right back, as you take a sip on the fizzy orangade that you adore so much it had become a bloody nickname.
"Still suits you," he says, and he's right. Fizzy by name, fizzy by nature. "So you gonna tell me?"
You're not really sure what he wants you to say, so just shrug. "I'm fine, buddy. Are you okay?"
"I'm cool," he nods, aware of the fact you definitely don't want to talk about whatever it is going on with you - so he changes topic. "Nervous about tour, if I'm being honest. You're coming, right? Been contracted on?"
"Uh-huh," you nod. "For the European leg, at least. They haven't sent out contracts yet for the US leg."
"You'll be on it," he says with absolute certainty. He can't see any reason why you wouldn't be. They all like having you around. It's nice having a familiar face backstage. Nice having a friend.
"Hopefully," you agree, very aware that your job is incredibly sought after. You're not the only nepotism baby around, and know that the US leg will be a lot more... political, as it were. Record label execs will all be fighting for attention from the boys, and that could mean putting overqualified suits in job positions like yours, just for a little bit of Scout exposure.
"You really think they're gonna kick you off the roster?" he smiles, nudging you with his foot from across the sofa. "We'd all riot. Even Yoongi."
Now that is something you doubt.
"He'd probably be leading the counter-riot to have me kicked off," you roll your eyes.
"He's just pissy that he can't be annoyed with you," Jungkook laughs. "He wants to hate how you got hired, but he knows you're good at what you do. Knows that you'd have got the job with or without your bloodline."
"Or," you counter. "He really does just hate me."
Jungkook shakes his head. He's noticed Yoongi's coldness recently, too. Puts it down to stress from touring so intensely. Things were definitely different than they used to be - not necessarily any better, nor worse. Just different.
"It's understandable," Jungkook taunts you. "You are pretty unbearable."
He catches your foot as you go to kick him, surprised by how strong your legs actually are - but you're no match for his upper body strength. Not even when you try and use your other leg, as well.
"Some boys actually enjoy my company," you protest, still struggling a little.
"Uh-huh," Jungkook nods, biting down on his bottom lip. His eyes are sparkling in the same way they did after last night's concert. He's just messing, flirting with you for the fun of it, but he knows he shouldn't. Knows he's only doing it cause he knows you're talking to someone else. He's lost your affections before, and while you're just friends, he still doesn't like the idea of it happening again. He likes being number one. Likes being top of the food chain. "Sure they do."
He thinks he has the upper hand here, but he hasn't realised you've stopped fighting against his grip. You're gentle in the way you move your legs, lowering them just a little until they're on his lap. He lets them be. Pays no notice to the fact he's not entirely soft beneath his sweats.
You ignore it, too. Kind of. Press down a little, just to let him know you know. He doesn't react. Just cocks one of his brows, as if to say, 'so?'
And then he figures that throwing caution to the wind is the best option here. He doesn't want to let things get out of hand, and he's sure you don't either.
"So are you gonna tell me about your Hush boy now or later?"
The way your jaw drops is almost comical. The pressure of your feet eases, and Jungkook is sad to lose it, but he doesn't resist as you pull your legs up to your chest in panic. He's still got that cocksure grin on his face, amused by your reaction.
"What?" He smirks, reclining back into the corner of the sofa. His legs spread a little, and the bulge is even more noticeable. He's doing it to fuck with you, now. You don't even look in its direction, but he still has the nerve to say, "Eyes up here, fizz."
"My eyes are up," you almost gasp. "And so are you, apparently."
Jungkook knocks his head to the side, and scrunches his nose a little. Being called out for it makes him a little awkward, even when he's the most confident guy you've ever known.
"I'm just hungover-"
"Yeah, yeah," you roll your eyes, before reciting the same bullshit he always says. "I'm always more horny when I'm hungover."
The way you say it is so whiney that Jungkook can't help but laugh. "I don't sound like that you prick - and stop deflecting. I heard you this morning. Sounds like I'm not the only one who suffers from horny hangovers."
It's about now that your face blossoms with the most delightful shade of red. Your cheeks are hot, and Jungkook can see how mortified you are. He finds it fucking hilarious.
"You didn't."
"Oh," he sings. "But I did."
"I'm gonna throw up," you grimace. Flirting with Jungkook is all well and good, but the idea of him hearing you get yourself off is shameful. Truly horrific.
"You didn't remember that me and Jimin had crashed here, did you?" He teases, knowing that you'd have never done it had you known they were in the next room over - or maybe you would have done. You just would have been a little more discreet.
"Didn't have a clue," you confirm, before burying your head in a sofa cushion. This is probably the most tragic conversation you've ever had with Jungkook.
He just laughs. Finds it hilarious.
"You didn't hear anything," you tell him. "Forget it ever happened."
"Was kinda hot," he shrugs - but fails to tell you that his current semi isn't the first time he's been hard in your apartment today. "Doesn't answer my question, though. Who's your Hush guy?"
Your face screws up like a paper napkin. This is not a conversation you want to be having, nor one you thought you'd be having a few minutes ago when your feet were on his cock.
In fact, your eyes are still closed, face all cute and regretful when you say, "How the fuck am I supposed to know? Doesn't that defeat the object of Hush?"
Jungkook laughs. "Give over. Who is he?"
"I'm being serious," you say, and notice the way Jungkook's smile shifts. He looks a little concerned, now, brows hard. "I don't know."
"Fizz," he says, too shocked to address you by anything but a dumb nickname. His brows are furrowed, and it's his jaw gaping now, not yours. "How do you not know?"
And now you're confused, because you thought that anonymity was the whole point of Hush.
"We just... never disclosed it, I guess?"
"So, what?" Jungkook's tone changes. It sounds like he's accusing you now, berating you a little. You both look as bewildered as one another. "You just matched with some dude this morning and got straight to it?"
That's the only plausibility, Jungkook thinks.
He knows Hush, knows what it's like, but knows that the stakes are too high to keep the anon act up. If he isn't comfortable enough to share his identity within a day or two, he unmatches.
Sure, he's gotten himself in pretty risky conversations straight off the bat before, and has had his fair share of casual encounters thanks to the app - but he doesn't love the idea of you doing it, too. It's because he knows that he doesn't care for the girls he uses in those situations, and dislikes the idea of someone else using you like that.
"No?" You reply, a little offended. "We've been talking for like... a few months?"
Jungkook almost shrieks. "A few months?! And you don't know who he is?!"
You stay silent for a moment. You're reflecting his confusion back at him. He can't understand for the life of him why you don't see a problem with this - but you haven't worked your way through the Hush circles like he has. Your Damocles boy has been the only person you've ever given the time of day on there.
"That's the whole point?" You say, but it's really a question because you can't understand why he's so horrified.
"He could be anyone," Jungkook whispers, as if he's trying to keep your secret for you. "Anyone!"
"He's alright," you promise. "He's nice."
"You don't even know his name!"
"I'm pretty sure you can only name a handful of the girls you've fucked in the last couple of years," you scoff at his hypocrisy.
Jungkook got eyes like a hopeless romantic, all shiny and bright. People don't seem to realise such appeal affords him endless opportunities for casual encounters - of which he thinks it would be rude to turn down. Or at least that's what he tells you.
Realistically, you know he just likes fucking about.
"That's not the point here, fizz, and you know it," he scolds.
"Who I may or may not send nudes to is really none of your concern, Jungkook," you tell him.
"I know that," he insists. "But if this has been going on for months..."
"Then it's still none of your concern."
He holds up his hands, eyes wide. He's waving a white flag, even if he thinks you're a walking, talking red one. "I'm not attacking you, here. I just think you need to be careful."
"I'm fine," you tell him softly, and he's pleased when you smile at him in that fond way he's so used to. It feels a lot safer than the confusion on your face a moment ago. You know his concern comes from a good place. "It's just what works for us. It's as much my choice as it is his."
Jungkook nods, and lets it go, but not before warning you, "I'm not the only one of the guys on there. Tae and Jin, we both know they're not, but the rest of them? I dread to think of what Jin would do if he found out Joon was phone fucking his little sister."
You laugh now. Really laugh.
"I'm not kidding!" Jungkook protests.
"I'd recognise any of you in an instant," you tell him, and you really believe it.
You have no doubt in your mind that you'd be able to sense any of them off from miles away. They're too familiar.
"I fucking hope so," he laughs, and while you're laughing too, you feel a little uneasy.
Maybe he has a point. Maybe you do need to dig a little deeper.
But as Jungkook leaves, and you check your phone only to find a new message waiting from your Damocles boy, you can't help but feel a little out of your depth already.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
21:43PM
D4m0cl3s: whyyyy am i so obsessed with u
22:10PM
leaving me on read? that's a new one (plus will probably only make me a little more obsessed (something about toxic girls that just really gets to me))
22:32PM
i lied i don't like toxic girls pls don't ignore me clem :(
Cl3m3ntin3: hey sorry was just a little busy
D4m0cl3s: it's cool you okay?
Cl3m3ntin3: yeah yeah, im all good you?
D4m0cl3s: im okay you seem a little... i dunno. off?
Cl3m3ntin3: sorry i'm fine really
D4m0cl3s: yanno, you say one thing but the way you're writing sends a whole entire different message it's v confusing, clem
Cl3m3ntin3: sorry i don't mean to be im all good, honest
D4m0cl3s: stop saying sorry
22:54PM
clem whats up you're never like this, you got me worried
Cl3m3ntin3: you sat at home worrying over a girl you can't even imagine?
D4m0cl3s: wdym?
Cl3m3ntin3: it's not like you can picture me not like you can think of my face so what are you thinking about when you're worrying? some pixels? your phone?
D4m0cl3s: right. where has all this come from? please know my face is very confused right now so whatever you imagine when you think of me - 'cause let's remember that you don't have a fuckin' clue what i look like either - add a little confusion to it that should do the job.
Cl3m3ntin3: i'm gonna add a little anger to it 'cause you seem pissed off
D4m0cl3s: well, yeah? i kind of am i don't get why you're, like, attacking me? like im the only one keeping a secret? it's you and me both, clem.
00:06AM
you can't just ignore me whenever i say something you don't like
Cl3m3ntin3: no? i think i can. goes with the territory of you not knowing who the fuck i am. no repercussions.
D4m0cl3s: where the fuck has all this come from? were we not good this morning?
00:13AM
and there you go again, leaving me on read.
Cl3m3ntin3: don't act like you actually give a fuck been 3 months if you cared, surely i'd know who you are by now?
D4m0cl3s: pot, kettle, black, clem it's a two-way street and fuck you if i didn't care, i'd just be leaving your shitty attitude on read, too.
Cl3m3ntin3: how can you care about someone you don't know? really? how can you?
D4m0cl3s: are you telling me you don't care about me?
00:17AM
if this is you leaving me on read again then you can go fuck yourself. like literally just unmatch me.
Cl3m3ntin3: im not leaving you on read im trying to figure out what the fuck i want to say just give me a moment, okay?
D4m0cl3s: m'kay.
Cl3m3ntin3: i care that's, like the most important thing here. i really care. i just i had someone irl questioning me about you today and it kind of left me stumped. why don't you want to know who i am?
D4m0cl3s: i kinda hate that an outsider has swayed your opinion on me so much don't get me wrong, i love that your friends care about you just hate that it makes you think i don't
Cl3m3ntin3: that's not an answer
D4m0cl3s: patience is a virtue, clem i was getting there my line of work... i cant commit to anything. it isn't fair. it isn't fair to let someone get invested in me. the moment you know who i am, everything changes it's far easier for you to be detached if i'm just a few pixels if this isn't physical
Cl3m3ntin3: you've spent 3 months getting yourself off to me and me alone that's commitment, isn't it?
D4m0cl3s: that's conditioning, clem you've made everything else so incredibly boring you're the only thing that excites me
Cl3m3ntin3: and yet...
D4m0cl3s: and yet. clem, we both know the second this becomes more than what it already is, there's no taking it back. i don't wanna lose this don't wanna lose you.
Cl3m3ntin3: i think it's really sad that you think being honest will result in losing me
D4m0cl3s: just how the cookie crumbles, clem i've seen it happen with my friends you were right when you said you deserve more than dick pics from some rando on the internet but even if you knew who i was, that's all i'd be able to give you i like you too much to cope with knowing how disappointed you'd be by the outcome of my grand reveal a few pixels can only disappoint you so much a real, tangible human? so much more.
Cl3m3ntin3: just a rando on the internet who sends me dick pics and yet you've got me feeling all kinds of fucked up
D4m0cl3s: it's mutual, if it helps really did mean it when i said i was obsessed with u earlier and for the record i don't really imagine a person when i think of you more of like.. i dunno. an aura? i guess. peachy. orange. a little green. very clementine inspired maybe that's it maybe i imagine clementines my teeny tiny clementine
Cl3m3ntin3: you make my heart hurt
D4m0cl3s: you make my heart hurt, too
Cl3m3ntin3: i'm sorry for... like going off at you
D4m0cl3s: it's cool kind of nice to see this side of you, i guess ur ego isn't always big shock
Cl3m3ntin3: oh no it is this is all the result of a bruised ego was very offended that you didn't wanna know i am i'll have you know one of my friends got a semi just looking at me earlier and yet the guy who makes me cum doesn't even wanna know me &lt;///333
D4m0cl3s: firstly lets stop with this nonsense, okay? i would kill to know who you are and as soon as we're both in situations where it's fair i'm booking you a taxi and routing it straight for my place also fuck ur friend (not literally pls)
Cl3m3ntin3: oh? not gonna wine and dine me first? (i wont)
D4m0cl3s: absolutely not first thing im doing is checking to see if your head can fit through doors, you egomaniac
Cl3m3ntin3: and the second thing?
D4m0cl3s: fucking the rest of that ego out of you ♡♡
Cl3m3ntin3: and they say romance is dead
D4m0cl3s: im not the most romantic of guys
Cl3m3ntin3: i'll pretend im shocked
D4m0cl3s: are we good, clem?
Cl3m3ntin3: yeah we're good im sorry for getting so in my head about things don't even know why i got so pissed about you not being able to imagine me when i literally can't imagine you either lmao
D4m0cl3s: what do you think of when you think of me?
Cl3m3ntin3: honestly?
D4m0cl3s: honestly...
Cl3m3ntin3: your cock lmao i wish i could say something cute like your aura, but i'd simply be lying
D4m0cl3s: for fucks sake haha
Cl3m3ntin3: good cock, at least great cock, some would say
D4m0cl3s: some?
Cl3m3ntin3: yeah not me i'd say average :)
D4m0cl3s: average? AVERAGE?
Cl3m3ntin3: yeah :D
D4m0cl3s: i... do you need reminding or something?
Cl3m3ntin3: no? it's average :) !
D4m0cl3s: the man was too stunned to speak
Cl3m3ntin3: maybe i do need reminding then? could have sworn it was average? maybe even a little smaller?
D4m0cl3s: you are rubbing salt in a wound, miss teeny tiny clementine i've never been more offended
Cl3m3ntin3: hmm... prove me wrong?
D4m0cl3s: i want it on record that i hate you
Cl3m3ntin3: sure you do, baby
D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!
D4m0cl3s: does this help?
Cl3m3ntin3: a little? not much, though maybe it would help if I had some more context? maybe you should play with it for me a little bit?
D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!
D4m0cl3s: like this?
Cl3m3ntin3: ooo that's a little better only a little, though maybe more?
D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!
D4m0cl3s: what about now?
Cl3m3ntin3: maybe you should play with your balls a little? for like... spacial awareness?
D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!
yeah, that helps that really helps
D4m0cl3s: still average? or does it look like we both know it does?
Cl3m3ntin3: how do we both know it looks?
D4m0cl3s: like it would ruin your tight little cunt
Cl3m3ntin3: damn, damocles you're really coming for me now, aren't you? what happened to my pretty little pussy you love so much? it's cunt now?
D4m0cl3s: you don't want me playing nice right now you wouldn't be telling me i'm below average if you did you want me fucking you like i have a point to prove
Cl3m3ntin3: and what point would that be?
D4m0cl3s: that once i finally get to fuck your (pretty, perfect, fucking incredible) cunt, it's mine mine, and no one else's especially not that friend of yours who got hard looking at you
Cl3m3ntin3: i spy with my little eye something that begins with J (it ends in 'ealousy', suga) sugar** lmao typo
D4m0cl3s: suga on the brain? you a scouts fan?
Cl3m3ntin3: they're fine not what i want to be thinking of right now, tho
D4m0cl3s: my bad well, no, your bad actually who's your favourite member?
Cl3m3ntin3: shuuuuush time and place, babe also i have an idea
D4m0cl3s: go on?
Cl3m3ntin3: you got a bottle close by?
D4m0cl3s: ermmm like water bottle?
Cl3m3ntin3: yeah
D4m0cl3s: i've a chilsung?
Cl3m3ntin3: perfect me too wanna see your hand wrapped around it
D4m0cl3s: .... i have a cock right here and hard for you .... and you wanna see my hand around a bottle?
Cl3m3ntin3: just do it baby
D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!
oh my fucking god
D4m0cl3s: what?
Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!
oh holy shit why is your hand so small it doesn't even get around the bottle?????!! i'd literally like... eclipse it
Cl3m3ntin3: uh huh now wrap your hand around your cock you know the size difference now you know exactly what it'd look like
D4m0cl3s: god i'm gonna fucking destroy you arent i
Cl3m3ntin3: uh huh i think so jesus christ i haven't even been touching myself and look at the state of me
Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!
you did this this is all you
D4m0cl3s: all mine i'm never gonna share you god i gotta fuck you
Cl3m3ntin3: we've literally just had a full entire fuck off conversation as to why you cant
D4m0cl3s: im a boy im stupid i cant be trusted to make such decisions let me fuck you please
Cl3m3ntin3: no, baby you know you can't you gotta be patient
Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!
think of how well you'll be rewarded
D4m0cl3s: no i gotta fuck you i need to i think i might die if i can't
D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!
so hard that death is the only option
Cl3m3ntin3: the way you hold it around the base always gets me so fucked up all i can think about is the fact it will look just like that when you guide it into me
Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!
reckon im wet enough for you?
D4m0cl3s: i think you're wet enough that i'll never need to drink water again so fucking hot literally how the fuck do you even get that wet
Cl3m3ntin3: wish i could tell you truth is you're the only one who's ever got me like that
D4m0cl3s: fuck don't say shit like that, clem im too close
Cl3m3ntin3: you can cum, baby i wanna see it
D4m0cl3s: can i call? i wanna watch you too
Cl3m3ntin3: yes please pretty please
D4m0cl3s: always so good for me, clem ain't no fuckin' way im ever losing this
Cl3m3ntin3: just call me you sentimental prick ;)
Incoming call from D4m0cl3s Accept | Decline (01 minute : 37 seconds) Call ended.
Cl3m3ntin3: im so furious that was a call and not a video you fucking whined WHINED jesus i might cum again just thinking about it
D4m0cl3s: and they say men are easy
Cl3m3ntin3: fuck you, you know you're hot
D4m0cl3s: do i?
Cl3m3ntin3: yeah yeah you fucking do give me all this shit for my ego, but jesus christ you know exactly what you do to me
D4m0cl3s: and you know it's mutual the whine... yeah that wasn't intentional you're just??? unreal????
Cl3m3ntin3: probably a good idea that we don't ever fuck i think i'd stop being able to function like a useful member of society would just want to spend all day in bed with you
D4m0cl3s: you say that as we don't spend a fair amount of our free time doing exactly that just... not together but still together kinda i guess? does that make sense?
Cl3m3ntin3: it makes sense i'm sorry about earlier, still
D4m0cl3s: im sorry, too i know that this isn't like... conventional
Cl3m3ntin3: conventional is boring im gonna go get a shower quickly talk later?
D4m0cl3s: talk later miss u already x
D4m0cl3s is offline
Tumblr media Tumblr media
BIG HIT ENT OFFICES Yongsan-gu, Seoul
"You can stop avoiding me, yanno," Jungkook mumbles as he comes to stand beside you.
The grey corridors of Big Hit all look the same, but this one's a little different. It's The Scouts stomping ground; space reluctantly given to them after the success of the last album. Told management they needed studios to work in underdisturbed. Three of them. Tae and Jin didn't care for one - are happy doing their own shit in the dingy old practise room in the basement - but Yoongi, Namjoon and Jungkook all threw tantrums.
Well, less-so trantrums and more-so well put together business plans an ROI graphs for some of the senior bosses. Hoseok was in charge of overseeing it all, and blew far too much budget on it - something of which has bitten them all in the arse, and keeps them tied to their label for longer, but they have freedoms, at least. More than most bands in their field. Oppotunities. Visibility.
At the far end of the corridor, closest to the snack machine, is Jungkook's studio.
There's silence as you watch the packet of chips you just chose drop into the vending chute, with little care for the fact he sounds stroppy. Though you don't look at him, you know he's pouting. Can hear it in his voice.
It's been a few days since he left your apartment and you haven't really spoken since. It's not like it's totally uncommon for you to go a while without chatting, but you are aware that you left a couple memes sent to you on read.
You weren't trying to be a bitch, he just sent them at bad times, and you forgot to reply. Seems as if your lack of consideration has left him overthinking, and you feel a little bad.
You crouch, knees cracking as you do, stuffing your arm into the machine and retrieving your purchases - plural. A packet of chips for you, and banana milk for him. He narrows his eyes as you hold it towards him. You're still crouched, eyes a little wide but impatient.
"Take it or I'll drink it myself, you big baby."
He wants to resist, but he can't. Something just so tempting about banana milk. Gets him every time.
"Was coming to see you, actually," you say as you return to your full posture, knocking your head to the side to indicate you want to walk. He follows your lead like he always does. It explains the banana milk, at least, and makes him feel a little easier. "Just been busy, haven't been avoiding you. Stupid. Anyways, had a meeting today about the next run of shows so thought I'd pop up and say hi before I left."
He hums to let you know he's listening, encouraging you to keep on talking as he reaches the door to his studio. It's pin-protected, so you wait till he's typed in the code to continue - though realistically, you both know you could have just typed it in yourself.
"How'd it go?" He asks, both out of politeness and general curiosity. He's always keen to hear about your life; what's going on with it.
"Yeah, yeah," you nod, entering first and taking a seat in his favourite desk chair as soon as you're inside. You drape your overshirt across the back of it, and ignore the way Jungkook's eyes briefly flitter towards your chest. His gaze doesn't linger, so you don't bother teasing him about it. "All good. Just going over some health and safety stuff."
He pops his banana milk down on the desk. Frowns. Sighs. "Up."
Every single time. Him and his bloody chair.
"But there's another chair right there!" You protest, knowing full well you're in Jungkook's ridiculously overpriced gaming chair, which really has no business being in a music studio - but dear lord if it isn't the comfiest thing you've ever sat on.
"Exactly!" He wails in return. "You, there. Me, here."
The way he gestures his hands makes him look like a flight attendant, all poised and direct, but you don't budge.
"Mhmm-mm," you mumble, trying to eat a chip as Jungkook tugs on your arm. "Me, here. You there!"
"You're gonna get crumbs all over it," he says with such a pout that you can't help but laugh. You know he's got a mini vacuum in his desk drawer precisely for times like these. You know because you're the one who bought it, after the fifth time you'd argued over something as trivial as a few crumbs.
"I won't," you pout right back, then promise, "I'll wipe my fingers."
He's about to say something back, before he realises that you are wiping your fingers - right along the hem of his shirt.
"For fucks sake, you little shit," he moans, wrapping his arm around your head to get you in a headlock. Should have just done this earlier, he thinks. The pair of you struggle for a moment, but he's too bloody strong. You squeal as he drags you off the chair and plonks you down in the spare seat. "Much better."
"You suck," you huff as you kick out at him, but miss as he sits himself down and rolls away with a cheeky little grin on his face.
He's about to reply all rather childishly, but a knock at his door breaks the contact of his eyes on yours.
You're thankful for the interruption. You don't like the way it feels when you look at Jungkook these days. It's a bit... too much.
"Who is it?" Jungkook calls, the frosted glass hiding the intruder, but not really. Even you can make out who it is.
"Yoongi," he calls through, to which Jungkook tells him that he can let himself in. He's one of the chosen few; the secret circle. In all reality, every single one of the boys knows Jungkook's passwords, but he tells himself otherwise. Somehow likes the idea of exclusivity.
"Hey, I- oh," Yoongi begins as he enters the room, stopping as he realises you're there. He's dressed down, a pair of black slacks and a white shirt a fair few sizes too large draped over his shoulders.
Dressed quite a lot like you, actually, though your slacks are fitted and high-waisted, and the white shirt you're in is tight. It clings to your skin, and now that your overshirt is hooked over the back of Jungkook's chair, there's not much hiding your silhouette.
They've both seen you in far less - there's a mutual agreement to never speak of your twenty-third birthday party and the bath debacle - but it's not often you're in anything that doesn't hide you up a little. It's just professionalism, and considering you're mostly around them at work, it makes sense.
But your shirt had ridden up a little from the struggle with Jungkook, and your midriff is distracting for Yoongi, apparently. He stays silent. Looks at you. Looks at Jungkook. Looks at your shirt, which is crumpled by Jungkook. Looks at the mess your hair is in following the headlock. Is unaware of the headlock ever taking place. Adds 2 and 2 and gets 5.
"Didn't realise you had company," Yoongi musters. "My bad."
"Don't mind me," you smile. "I can get gone, if you need time with Jungkook?"
"No, no," Yoongi insists, before turning to focus on Jungkook. The way he cuts the conversation short with you weighs on you. You and Yoongi had never been close, not in the same way you were with Jungkook, but there was a time when you would have been invited along with whatever he needed Jungkook for. Hasn't been that way for a while now, but it still makes you sad. "Just running through that demo you sent over, I've got some notes. I'll be in the studio all evening, so just come by whenever you're... done."
It dawns on you pretty quickly that Yoongi's jumping to conclusions. Your cheeks begin to flame, and you have to stop yourself from awkwardly laughing.
"I'm actually heading off now," you mumble, getting to your feet. The last thing you need is yet another thing for Yoongi to hold against you.
You like to tell yourself it's the whole nepotism thing - and honestly, it's an undeniable part of his disdain for you lately.
But you also know it's something more.
See, there are two things you and Yoongi will never speak of.
The first is your twenty-third birthday party, and the bath debacle that came with it. It was harmless, and he wasn't the only one there - Jimin and Jungkook played their part too - but it's an avoided topic to preserve your dignity more than anything else.
The second thing you will never discuss is the night that never was. The one you both agreed never happened.
When he looks at you, you know he's thinking about it.
But it's your best-kept secret, and you'd quite like to keep it that way, so you make your excuses and leave. Jungkook says bye, and that he'll text later. Yoongi doesn't even really look at you as you leave.
There's a momentum to your heartbeat as you leave the building, your staff pass beeping like a hospital monitor as you go through security. There's a buzz in your back pocket as soon as you're through the doors - not the kind you long for from your Damocles boy, but a just regular kakaotalk message.
When you pull up your phone and see his name, you're surprised, but also a little concerned. You wait until you're at the bus stop to check his messages - and when you do, you wish you never did.
Yoongi (personal): I've said the same to Jungkook as I'm gonna say to you. Think about it from Jin's perspective.
You can't help but laugh at his sheer audacity. Of all people, Yoongi has absolutely no right to berate you, nor your choices. He's completely missed the mark of the relationship between you and Jungkook - and he's really in no place to judge. No place at all.
And so you tell him as such.
You: Not really sure what you're getting at But tell me, Yoongi, did you think about it from Jin's perspective?
You know better than to mention the night that never was. Neither of you have spoken about it for months - a full year, almost - but he deserves to think about it if he's going to be a prick. Deserves to remember. Deserves to have it linger.
You watch as your messages are marked as 'read', and then you mute your notifications from him. How he thinks he has any right to police what you do - and who you do it with - infuriates you. Why waste your time, though? He's been nothing but an absolute arse to you over the past couple of months. Nothing will change it.
The frustration in your mind has you wanting to watch the world roll by. You let the bus you usually board roll on by, opting for the longer route instead. It won't come for another few minutes, but it's not so bad out today. The weather is bearable.
It's as you're waiting - a face of thunder and scowl foul enough to rival even Yoongi's on a bad day - that your phone buzzes. The corner of your lips curl. Cheeks turn pink. It vibrates again. And a third time.
So even though you mentally scold yourself for not waiting until you get home, you find yourself unlocking your phone and heading to Hush.
And sure enough, there he is.
D4m0cl3s: working late tonight
The second message is a picture. Has you gasping. It's a pair of dark trousers, unbuckled, zip down, but still in place - pushed open enough for you to see the thick outline of a bulge in white Calvins.
D4m0cl3s: thinking about you x
A soft laugh escapes your lips, and you forget all about your bad mood.
You reply, a grin on your face so large that you think it could rival a Cheshire cat.
Cl3m3ntin3: and they say romance is dead?? ♡♡
He replies instantly.
D4m0cl3s: i'm not trying to romance you, clem i'm trying to seduce you :) is it working? Cl3m3ntin3: no x D4m0cl3s: what about now??
The picture he sends through is obscene. Belongs in the centrefold of a top shelf magazine. Has you fucking drooling, a light whimper escaping your lips. The harsh wind of a taxi storming by reminds you that you're in public. You look over your shoulder to make sure there's no one walking by - not because you don't want to get caught looking at it, but so you can oogle at it for a little bit longer.
His fingers are wrapped around his thick cock, his grip tight. Like, real fucking tight. His foreskin is pulled down, and there's a small pool of thick precum glistening on his tip. It's so minimal, but so central to the photo that you know it's the main focus. He's letting you know just how horny he is, just how ready he is to fuck himself into you - and he's hoping that your pussy will be leaking like that, too.
Cl3m3ntin3: i'm on my way home can you wait for like 20 minutes? D4m0cl3s: i've got all night, clem take your time i'll be waiting for you Cl3m3ntin3: be home soooooon D4m0cl3s: travel safe, clemmie x Cl3m3ntin3: simp.
Tumblr media
506 notes · View notes
httpknjoon · 11 months
Text
the princess and the rockstar | jjk; masterlist
Tumblr media
plot | No one expects the nation's favorite crown princess to be involved with an international rockstar.
genres | humor, fluff, angst, modern royalty!au, celebrity!au, established relationship!au
pairing | rockstar!jungkook x princess!reader
note | drabble series! everything listed didn’t happen in order. below are the titles/prompts. changes may happen in the future. asks are always open.
main masterlist | spotify playlist
Tumblr media
spotted! - the first time you and jungkook met.
taking chances - after taking your chances with Jungkook three months ago, you two cross paths again. this time, the rockstar takes risks to ask Zafiro's royal princess out.
can't take my eyes off you - Sweet September surprises their fans with their own rendition of the classic song.
her majesty - This is how the rumors began between a princess and a rockstar.
rebel princess - media loves to give anyone random labels, you don't mind.
backstage pass - your first date with this rockstar is nothing like your other.
bad for business - jungkook tries to get you off your busy life.
all the voicemails you sent before - with him touring with his band and you working for your country, jungkook always made sure to send you updates.
iykyk- what happened after calvin klein reveals their global brand ambassador.
tattooed heart -
(more drabbles to come)
Tumblr media
taglist rules
THE PRINCESS AND THE ROCKSTAR TAGLIST
@heartjiminie @rbrm094 @rjsmochii @jjkreblog @sugaslittlekookies @saintsugar @thvlover7 @alpha-mommy69 @natalia-rmnva @coralmusicblaze @stupendouscookiehumanmug @namgoogieee @yoonjinhusbands @borahaeb1ch @lilliankoo @gxtwllsn @taechvita @snkyuv @canyon-lwt @hiii-priestess @jksgirlhere @razzletaffy @bbtsficrecs @jnk-pop @jjeonjjk7 @tokkiggukie @cuntessaiii @annoyingcolorfox @kooliv @jksgirlhere @razzletaffy @oopscoop @hani0407 @taebae19 @yunki-yunki-yunki
PERMANENT TAGLIST
@dunixxd​ @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @misshale21
869 notes · View notes
roouge · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
­ ­­ ­ ­­­ ­­ ­ ­­­ ­­ ­ ­­­ ­­       𔒨           ۪        24FPH  ﹐      
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
  ­ ­­ ­ ­­­ ­­ ­ ­­­ ­­ ­ ­­­ ­­ ­ ­­  𔓎  ­ ­­ ­ ­­  𝅄        ­ ­­ ­ ­­ ☕     ʾ          ­ ­­ ­ ­­­ ­­ ­ ­­ interlude.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
'anything'
2K notes · View notes
kthst4rs · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
. . . 🕸 rockstar ! . . .
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
  (>。<) . . . ★%
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
like or reblog only
249 notes · View notes
venusjeon · 2 years
Text
rock god
Tumblr media
you've got one year left to either finish your novitiate and become a nun like your parents always wanted, or leave the order and live a secular life like you've always wanted. but the fact that a sister's flirty nephew is staying in the convent for the summer provides a perfect distraction to such headache.
♔ PAIRING: rockstar!jungkook x novice!reader
♔ GENRE: 80s au, angst, smut, humour, fluff, s2f2l
♔ WORD COUNT: 16.3k another long one i'm sorry
♔ WARNINGS: minor characters death, religious themes, catholic guilt, smoking weed, swearing, sacrilege and exhibitionism: fingering in a church, profanity, blasphemy, quiet sex & loss of virginity (you're probably thinking girl AGAIN?), protected sex, betrayal, one mention of rape
♔ AUTHOR'S NOTE: for an atheist i do seem to write a lot about religion lol. the first song jk writes & performs for reader + the inspiration for the title is rock god by selena gomez, and the second one church by chase atlantic. i recommend you listen to them in advance☺️ also, we'll pretend jk is blond in the banner okay?
Tumblr media
1986
The day was going incredibly slow, as all of last month’s had.
Most people would attribute that to the fact that you were a novice, but their idea of what that entailed was far from the reality. Contrary to popular belief and even if some sisters wished it was the case, cloistered nuns didn’t spend all day just praying. There were many other things to keep busy with in a convent, such as attending to one’s studies, doing household chores, or working to bring money in and keep the place going. Free time had never been the part of the day you looked the most forward to, though, until recently. Not that it got any better then.
Contradictory as though it was, you were kept from the present by the same plaguing thoughts you didn’t want to be left alone with… And sometimes, such as now, you didn’t have any choice but to force yourself back into reality, running late as you were.
The novice mistress Sister Daeun—that is, the one responsible for the training of the novices—had assigned you to fix the torn seams on your classmates’ habits that morning. Hey, someone had to do it. So off you ran through the cloister not to melt under the same sun others didn’t seem to mind.
Others being Jungkook and the group of girls who gathered around to listen to him play the guitar.
The presence of men wasn’t rare in your abbey, built some centuries back. It was sort of shut off from the rest of the world, hidden up in a mountain, but lost hikers always wandered into it and the abbot was more than happy to let them spend a night or two as guests, regardless of their gender.
Jungkook was a guest too.
He was in a rock band, or so you’d heard, and that career choice was why his parents had kicked him out, something you’d pity him for if he wasn’t always in a cheery mood whenever you chanced to see him around. Of course, what guy wouldn’t, surrounded by girls?
It didn’t bother you that some of your less spiritual sisters succumbed to his tattoos, long dyed blond hair, charming voice, and piercings. Their parents would doubtlessly tell them to stay away from someone who looked like a delinquent—your conscience did too—but then again, they were the ones who’d forcefully made them join the order, so you understood where the girls’ disobedience came from. On a personal level, in fact.
Though not because of the same reason, you weren’t there willingly either.
Unlike theirs, your behaviour wasn’t scandalous in any way and there was no need for you to be schooled in rectitude, no. This was just the path your parents had wanted you to take since you were little and you’d resigned to comply, however unhappy it made you. It wasn’t that you wouldn’t make a good nun, devout as you’d been raised and actually enjoyed being, but it wasn’t your calling.
Leaving the lively cloister behind and trying to do the same with your affliction, you rushed to your destination.
About three hours later, you were still sat in front of the sewing machine in the otherwise empty laundry room, humming on a loop the part of the song Jungkook had been playing earlier. You couldn’t deny it was catchy... Besides, you needed a tune to distract you from the machine’s repetitive noise and the summer heat, or else you’d go crazy. Maybe you had already, given you’d failed to notice someone opening the creaky door and walking in.
“Hello?”
Startled, you raised your head to meet the eyes of the rockstar himself, filled with something akin to interest. “Oh, hi...”
Jungkook chuckled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” Before you could kindly tell him not to worry, that it was your fault for spacing out, he grabbed the hem of his shirt to show you the hole in it that until then you hadn’t caught sight of. “I was told to come here to get this fixed?” He then glanced at the dozen habits lying on the table you still had to work on, and changed his mind not to burden you, “But I can come another time– Or not at all! I mean, ripped clothes are trendy, aren’t they?”
For the first time in a while, you laughed genuinely and not out of courtesy, “I wouldn’t know, there’s not much variety in a novice’s wardrobe.” Since Jungkook’s t-shirt would just take a moment to mend and you didn’t mind helping him, you decided to neglect your current task without a second thought, holding out your hand with a smile. “It’s alright, really!”
“You’re an angel.” He smiled back as he took off his t-shirt, exposing a toned body you weren’t prepared for. Bet he says that to all the girls, intruded a thought in your mind as though to make go away the uplift of his compliment, but you brushed it off before he reached the table. “By the way, was that my song you were just humming?”
“Oh? I heard you sing it earlier, but I didn’t know it was yours,” you said while getting to work. Meanwhile, Jungkook leaned against the door’s frame. “I don’t really listen to music much.”
“What?!” He was utterly shocked, eyes wide like he’d seen a ghost. “That’s the greatest sin of all! I’ll have a serious conversation with the abbot, they’re not teaching you girls the important stuff here.” Father Jimin would certainly be amused at such a request. “But I did see you running earlier in the cloister, now that I think about it. It is hot, Y/N, but I don’t believe the floor is in flames.”
He knows my name? What a stupid question. Whoever had told him to come to the laundry room must have seen you entering it and mentioned you’d be there.
“Yeah, I was late, had overslept. It probably looked like someone was chasing me… Nun on the run!” you rhymed out of nowhere. “There’s a title for your next single.”
“If naming my songs will get you to listen to them, I’m down.” You looked up from the task at hand to ask him if that meant he’d credit ‘Sister Y/N’ as a songwriter, but the sight of someone walking down the hallway towards the laundry room scared the words away. “You know, you’re too pretty to be a nun.”
Sister Daeun, now right behind Jungkook, smacked the back of his head and asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jungkook’s smile turned into a pout as he rubbed the spot. “Nothing, aunty. Ouch…”
Yes, he was her nephew, which was the main reason why Father Jimin had allowed him to stay not just for a few days, but the whole summer. Sister Daeun had promised on his behalf that as a thanks, he would help around to earn his bed and under no circumstances put in peril anyone’s vow of chastity. If he weren’t so good-looking, you imagined she wouldn’t have needed to make that promise.
“Y/N…” she sighed when she saw the pile of habits you had yet to fix the seams of. Despite the disappointment in her voice, she made sure to say tactfully, “It’s almost midday, I asked you to have all of them done before ten.”
Jungkook was the only one in the room who had no clue as to why you’d been working so slowly, but he didn’t hesitate to step forward when your head lowered in shame. “My bad, I’ve been distracting her for hours. And on top of it, I gave her more work…”
He approached the sewing machine, got his t-shirt, and put it on, all while you stared at him at a loss for words. Why would he take the blame? Sister Daeun started telling you to finish some other time and get ready for lunch, but you stopped listening, attention fixed on Jungkook as he discreetly winked at you before leaving.
That wasn’t the last time you met that day. Well, incorrect, because it was past midnight.
Like many nights before, guilt stirred a restlessness that kept you from falling asleep, the only solution you could think of being walking around the empty abbey in the hope of tiring your body and with it, your brain. It wasn’t that easy, though, often hours how long you’d wander about, always ending up at the cloister. Sitting on the stone base between the columns and gazing up at the stars brought some peace to you. More than praying, it appeared.
That night, such peace was disrupted when barely after ten minutes of it, the sound of a lighter being flicked made your head whip around.
“So you do have hair,” Jungkook joked as he sat against a column, bending one knee so he could rest his elbow on it. Although a bit embarrassed you were in your pyjamas and thus wearing no white veil that covered your head in front of a guy you didn’t know, you did the same on the next column to be able to face him. “Can’t sleep either?”
“Lately, not.”
He puffed at his joint before offering it to you, and a short laugh broke through your lips. Was he seriously tempting a novice to burn one with him? To be fair, he did mean to help you sleep, but it was still a bit… much for you. “I’ll pass, thank you.”
“Yeah, probably not a good idea,” Jungkook nodded at his own words before taking another puff, blowing the smoke to a side so it wouldn’t reach you. “I don’t want your parents to make a complaint because there’s a bloke loose in the convent corrupting the nuns. Can’t afford to be kicked out of here, too,” he whispered the last bit, as though talking to himself.
“Don’t worry, that’s not happening.”
“Why not? Are you girls not allowed visits or something?”
“No, we are, it’s just… they died last month. Car crash.”
“Shit, I’m so sorry.” You could see in Jungkook’s wide eyes how much he regretted bringing them up. “That explains why you were out of sorts this morning... Agh, I can’t believe they’re still making you do work, what a bunch of heartless pricks! Not to mention class, I mean, isn’t it summer?”
His indignation for your sake came as a surprise. Ignorantly, you’d allowed prejudices to decide what kind of person Jungkook was before he got the chance to show you himself. The familiar guilt well-deservedly returned to grip your heart.
“Father Jimin actually had me switch jobs with some sisters so that I’d get to do less demanding stuff,” you came to the poor abbot’s defence. “It makes no difference, but he’s not to blame nothing can.”
"Doesn’t praying help?” He took another puff, lips curling into a smirk at the thought that next crossed his mind. “I thought nuns had a direct line with God.”
The truth was your relationship with the Lord had strained. As someone whose thoughts and desires couldn’t help but fall into sin over and over, you didn’t feel worthy of His comfort, or dared ask for guidance. His or anybody’s.
“I have to go through the telephonist angels first, I’m not an official nun yet.” The muscles of your face relaxed, gaze falling to your lap. “To be honest, I don’t think I want to be.”
Jungkook’s head cocked to a side. “Really? So, what are you doing here? You don’t strike me as the type forced by her p– uh, family.”
“I do like this place and what they’re teaching us, but I’m here because my parents wanted a saintly daughter who could put in a good word for them up there. I tried telling them once that I have dreams of my own, but it ended in an argument they had the last word in. Now that they’re dead, it’s like the topic is permanently sealed, I can never talk them out of it. And I mean, I love them, so how can I disappoint them? What would it say about me if I waited until my parents were dead to disobey them?”
Only after you finished venting did it dawn on you that perhaps you’d said too much. After all, what did Jungkook care? What did anyone?
“What’s your dream?”
The question took you aback, but you still answered, “I’d like to go to university, get married someday, have kids... Not be trapped inside these four walls for the rest of my life, you know?”
“I know exactly what you mean, trust me,” Jungkook said quietly before puffing at his joint again. “You’re free to leave, though, right? I don’t need to master-plan an escape?”
You hummed a laugh, mindful not to be loud enough to wake anyone up, given neither of you should be out of bed. There may or may not have been a curfew you were breaking, as well as a tradition called the Great Silence in which everyone kept quiet from the final liturgical prayer of the day until the earliest one the next morning. It was a rule often broken, especially by you, but that didn’t mean the abbey wasn’t dead silent.
“Anytime I want, yes, only next year I’m supposed to take my solemn vows.” Jungkook nodded but a slight frown gave away he didn’t know what that meant. “Poverty, chastity, and obedience? It’s like a wedding with Jesus. I can always divorce him, but that doesn’t mean marriage is a light affair.”
Most orders didn’t work like that. There were various stages one had to go through before becoming a professed nun: an optional aspirancy, then a postulancy, a novitiate, and finally, a juniorate. Since you’d gone to Catholic school all your life, you’d skipped the first, done no more than a few months of the second, were about to start the final year of the third, and would not be doing the fourth since your convent didn’t teach it. Instead of six more years of formation before taking your perpetual vows, then, you had only one.
“Damn, and here I thought I had the most fucked up horoscope of the year. Maybe we were born on the same month.”
“What do you mean?”
“Doesn’t everyone know my parents kicked me out because I want to be a rockstar?”
“Yeah...”
Once again, you’d assumed wrongly about him. That because of his profession and looks, he was a rebellious kid who hated his parents and was glad to be rid of them. You hadn’t even considered their shunning might be putting him through a hard time.
“Look, disappointing your parents beats living a miserable life just to please them, even if it sucks. One day we’ll be old, and I personally want to look back and not regret my youth, feel like I wasted it. I’m not gonna tell you what to do but if you want my opinion, getting out of here and chasing your dreams says no more than you’re in charge of your own life.”
Tumblr media
You had no idea why after that, Jungkook had taken it as his mission to stick with you.
It was common knowledge that you’d barely uttered ten words since your parents’ accident, so all eyes were drawn like magnets when you engaged in conversation with him of all people for hours on end. Since you came from vastly different worlds, it surprised you too that even though his company didn’t lessen your guilt, it was the best way to distract you from it. And precisely, that was his intention.
He would sit next to you at meals, trying to convince the sisters around the table in all seriousness that because they were cloistered, they weren’t aware Earth had been invaded by aliens last year.
“Do you think we’re stupid?” a postulant asked, giggles escaping you at how ridiculous the conversation you were having was. “Some of us do go out sometimes, I think we would’ve noticed.”
“They want you to think everything’s normal because only an army of nuns can defeat them!”
“How do we know you’re not one of them, huh?” you played along, narrowing your eyes in suspicion while Jungkook placed a hand on his chest, feigning shock.
“Aunty will vouch for me but even if not, I can’t believe you’d doubt me. We’ve known each other for like, what, a week? That’s enough for me to follow you into battle.”
“Sorry but can’t be too careful during an alien invasion.”
“That I warned you about! Why would I say anything in the first place?”
“I’ve been here for many years,” an older nun chimed in from the other side of the table, making everyone turn their attention to her. She addressed Jungkook, “You’ve just reminded me why I joined the order.”
He blinked, dumbfounded. “Why, sister?”
“Men talk so much nonsense it makes my head hurt.”
To see Jungkook argue playfully about aliens and men with a seventy-year-old nun who was having none of his shit was an experience, but it wouldn’t be just that.
Like you’d told him, Father Jimin had allowed you to switch jobs. Your old one consisted of embellishing clothes with elaborate religious embroideries—hence why Sister Daeun had asked for your help with the torn habits—that would later be sold on a street market stall in town beside other products manufactured by your sisters, whereas your new one required almost no effort.
There was an old married couple nearby who ran a goat farm, and a small group of nuns from your convent helped them in exchange of a portion of the food they made, instead of a salary. Father Jimin was clearly trying his best to raise your spirits when he’d assigned you to tend to the cutest new-born goats, but it wasn’t until Jungkook tagged along and you saw him struggle with the baby bottles, spilling milk all over his clothes and cursing at the tiny animals, that the abbot’s goal was achieved.
“No, no, no, come back, you little shit!” He chased a hoppy kid around the barn, unable to contain that lovely high-pitched laugh.
“How are you making a mess out of literally the easiest thing in the world?” you teased from the bag of pine shavings you were sat on, another kid resting otherwise peacefully on your lap.
“That’s easy for you to say, I’ve got Psycho making me do cardio over here!”
“Try this one,” you giggled, motioning to the empty spot beside you with your head so Jungkook would sit down. When he did, you lay the kid on his lap carefully and brought the baby bottle to its mouth, both of you watching as it fed without any problem. “See?”
It didn’t take long for the milk to run out, after which you and Jungkook stroked the kid to sleep while the other one still hopped around, sharing a smile when your fingers accidentally brushed.
Because he’d tag along, you agreed to helping out in the kitchen on another day, as time was somehow bearable if he was there. But you were still going through the motions, your parents’ absence ever-present.
“What do you think?” Jungkook stirred you awake from your trance. “Bitchin’, right? The best thing you’ve ever heard?”
The song that got stuck in your head the day you met was playing on a boombox he’d brought from his van and put on the worktop while the two of you and three other sisters cooked lunch.
The girl you’d just heard, he had explained, was the band’s lead singer Amber, whom he sometimes joined apart from playing the guitar. There were also a Hoseok on the drums and a Taehyung on the bass. Bangtan, their name was. You’d never heard of them.
“I’m not sure about the lyrics,” meaning all the cursing and allusions to sex, which got your sisters flustered in the background, “but I like the tune.”
“The tune…”
“I’m just more used to church songs, is all.” Jungkook’s eyes lit up. “No.” You knew he was thinking exactly of blasting his rock songs in the middle of Mass.
“Why not?” he asked as a joke while trying to steal a couple of french fries from a dish. You slapped his hand before he could.
“Because Father Jimin will exile you, duh.”
“And don’t you think I’ll give up yet. I’ll be found outside your cell’s window playing music on my boombox until you agree to go out with me.” You should’ve cast away the heat before it reached your cheeks, as his flirting was obviously just for fun. Something he did with all girls and which meant nothing. “Better yet, I’ll write you a song.”
“I don’t think a novice is the perfect muse for a rock song, especially if it’s about…”
Jungkook shook his head. “I’ll keep it PG-13 for you, I promise.” He then grinned, rubbing his hands together. “I’ll start working on it tonight.”
You weren’t together at all times, though. No, you had class, he had work, sometimes you didn’t see him for whole days. Such was the case one cloudy afternoon around three weeks after first meeting, when Father Jimin approached you in the cloister. It had been a while since your last visit to his confessional box, so you feared a scolding.
“I wanted to talk to you, actually,” he said with that distinctive, soothing voice of his as you walked together, “about Jungkook.”
Your heart missed a beat for a reason that escaped your knowledge. It felt, somehow, as though you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t. “What about him, Father?”
“I hadn’t seen you smile for a while and now it’s all you do when he’s by your side. I know the past month has been very difficult, so it makes me happy to see you get through the loss of your parents, Y/N.” Did it really look like things were fine? Well, better that than having everyone worry about you until things got fixed, if that ever happened. “However,” Father Jimin continued, “as your Spiritual Director, it’s my duty to advise you not to rely too much on someone other than God for solace. There’s a reason for enclosure, so that the outside world doesn’t distract us from religion. Unless… you’ve reconsidered your life as a nun? There’d be nothing wrong with that.”
What Jungkook had told you that first night, you’d been chewing on ever since, but God and your parents had long won the war. ‘Honour thy father and thy mother’ was one of the Ten Commandments, after all.
“I have no doubts. I belong here.”
Tumblr media
The last time you’d stepped in town had been for the funeral, but Bangtan was doing a gig at what Jungkook claimed was the coolest venue he’d ever been in and he’d managed to persuade the other members to perform Rock God, the song he’d pulled an all-nighter to write. You didn’t know what a title like that had to do with someone like you but apparently, the lyrics were from your point of view.
“You have to come,” he’d begged for the millionth time across the table the previous day, interrupting your Bible reading in the library. Luckily, nobody else was there, or had been before his arrival.
‘Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.’
Did that mean He would forgive you for the sin of going against your parents’ wishes? That you could hang the white veil and live how you dreamed of? The next passages from the Book of Isaiah answered those questions.
‘If ye be willing and obedient, ye shall eat the good of the land: But if ye refuse and rebel, ye shall be devoured with the sword: for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it.’
In other words, you were fucked. There was no way out.
“I’d have to ask Father Jimin for permission, and I don’t think he’d let me go to a rock concert.”
You’d laughed to yourself at the idea but Jungkook had been serious, insisted, “Tell him you want to go buy groceries or something, he won’t say no to you.”
“You mean, ‘lie to him because he’ll take pity on you.’”
“Please.” He’d sank his elbows on the table, leaning so close you almost had to back away. You would have, had he not bewitched you with the most angelic of smiles. “Do it for me? I’ll tell Saint Peter I made you do it so he lets you in Heaven.”
That’s how you ended up in the queue for his concert, holding a plastic bag full of stationary you’d told Father Jimin you needed for class.
Jungkook had given you no ticket, said telling the security guy your name would suffice, and surely enough ‘Sister Y/N’ got you in. The habit had wisely been left at home, but the man still frowned at your modest outfit before putting a wristband on you that was a different colour than everyone else’s. You assumed it meant you were VIP.
There was a secluded area with round tables near the stage you were indeed taken to, where only a handful of other people were hanging out, waiting for the show to begin. You wouldn’t have thought of approaching them, as there was likely nothing you had in common, with them or anyone in the whole poorly lit venue. If you were there, out of your comfort zone, it was for Jungkook only.
The lights at some point changed colours and finally, the concert began. Bangtan got on the stage and performed song after song, giving their all to an audience that cheered loudly. You cheered too, captivated by a Jungkook who made you feel things with every look he gave you.
His blond hair was wet, whether with water, product, or sweat you didn’t know, but it dripped down his curls to his ripped clothes which allowed a glimpse of the inked skin of his torso. When had he got new tattoos? They weren’t there the day he’d got his t-shirt off for you to sew. You had never paid much attention to those that covered his veiny right arm and hand, but now you found yourself tickled by the fact, and wanting to see them up close. Definitely the tattoos, not his bare body… But most tantalising of all was the passionate way he played his electric guitar, moving around the stage with a confidence that made it clear he belonged there.
With that confidence, though, came a cockiness that had him eye-fucking every pretty girl in the crowd. Who’s to say he didn’t write songs for them too? Not to mention Amber, to whom he sometimes got so close you feared they were going to kiss—as did their fans, judging by their screams of excitement.
The last song of the night was Rock God, which he made sure to announce by enthusiastically mouthing you ‘This is it!’. You braced yourself for the lyrics.
Preacher man walked into the club, and he said He said, "Hey girl, can't you walk and not stray?" Father, I'm torn and I'm selling my soul to the Rhythm, the beat and the bass 'Cause I can't confess my rock and roll ways (Ooh) 'Cause I'm so possessed with the music The music he plays
Was the preacher man supposed to be Father Jimin? He wasn’t likely to walk in the venue right then, but the idea of him attending a rock concert was so absurd it made you smile. You guessed the tone of the song before Amber had even got to the chorus.
I can't stop my feet from dancing to the sound of his drum (Oh no) I fell in love with my rock god I can't keep my hips from swaying to his sweet melody You see, I fell in love with my rock, rock god
Oh, so not only did you like his music in this narrative, but you were also in love with him? You raised an eyebrow at that, to which he failed to bite down a smile. There must be thrill in succeeding to seduce a novice.
The next verse was similar to the first one. Then came the chorus again, twice, but it was the bridge that struck you, putting an end to the fun you were having. Jungkook watched your reaction closely, as he had during the whole song.
No, I wouldn't change a thing even if I could 'Cause I chose a path and I'm not looking back And I'm sorry if I left the angels crying over me
The chorus was sung twice more but the music muffled into the back of your mind, the bridge’s words lingering in the foreground. Would you be able to choose a path that resulted in your angels weeping? How could you? And how could Jungkook portray you as remorseless over it, when the matter was eating away at you inside?
The show was over before you knew it, and the audience slowly exited the venue while the band got out of their rockstars outfits and makeup backstage. About fifteen minutes later, they came into the area you were sat in and Jungkook bumped fists with the friends who’d come to see him in a rush, so as to not keep you waiting any longer.
Checking out your collared shirt and ankle-length skirt while approaching, he whistled. “Gee, Y/N, I can’t handle myself when you dress so sexy.”
“Because a novice’s habit is so much better.”
“There’s an appeal to it. Makes a man want to tempt you.” Earning a smile from him, you rolled your eyes. “Thoughts on the song. Shoot.”
You pouted. “Full of blasphemies. Are you supposed to be the rock god?”
“Who else?” Jungkook asked surprised. How did that escape you?
“Then why do I say ‘sound of his drum’? You’re a guitar player. Are you trying to set me up with your bandmate?”
“‘Guitar’ doesn’t rhyme with ‘god’,” he said matter-of-factly, it hitting him in the pause that followed. You laughed. “Well, yeah, neither does ‘drum’… but it does a bit more, right?”
“A bit more, yes. So, are you and Amber dating?”
Jungkook smirked. “Jealous much?”
“If you are,” you ignored his question, “she might not be too happy her boyfriend’s writing songs to other girls.”
“She has a boyfriend,” he cleared up, lifting a weight off your chest. “We’re just friends, what we do onstage is part of the show. Don’t worry, you don’t have to fight anyone to keep me.”
“What a relief,” you joked, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Listen, I’m gonna get going, it’s late and you said you were getting some drinks with Bangtan, so I’ll leave you to it. I had fun tonight, you did great.”
“I can drive you to the convent,” he offered, but you shook your head, picking the plastic bag up from the table.
“It’s alright, Sisters Joan and Theresa are still at their stall in the street market. I’ll go back with them.”
“Swell…” he said under his breath, hoping you couldn’t tell he’d wanted to say ‘bummer’ instead.
You didn’t see each other until the next night, when you broke the curfew yet again to hang out in the kitchen. Sat on the table, the two of you discussed your dilemma while sipping at the awful tea Jungkook had made. There weren’t many ways to fuck up tea, but he’d still managed it, holding the old kettle responsible.
All had begun with him pointing out you’d paled towards the end of Rock God and you telling him the lyrics had moved you because you’d chosen to finish your novitiate. There was no way, therefore, you could sell your soul to the rhythm, the beat, and the bass.
“I know I said I wouldn’t tell you what to do, but–”
“You did.”
“But hear me out. Now that we’re friends, I can’t just watch you make a decision I know you already regret.”
“I’d regret leaving too, at least this is the selfless choice.”
“Well, aren’t you a good person!” Jungkook’s mocking made you sigh and sip on your tea like it were alcohol. It did taste as bad. “Y/N, you need to live for yourself, not for two fuddy-duddies who couldn’t put their daughter’s happiness before theirs.”
“Don’t be mean to them.”
Jungkook only bit his tongue because of your pleading tone. “Sorry… Even if you loved your parents, you can’t deny they put you in a tough spot. I’m sure wherever they are, they’ve realised they were wrong and want you to be happy however you choose.”
“The thing is, they were convinced I’d be happy as a nun, that I just wanted to switch to secular on a whim. That’s why they ordered me to stay, they were looking out for me.” Jungkook almost grimaced at the word ‘ordered’, fought against commenting how messed up was the fact that you were using it in this context. Staring at the almost empty mug on your lap, you wondered whether it was insensitive of you to speak your mind. “It’s also what’s happened to you that I couldn’t bear happening to me, even if my parents are gone. I don’t want to do anything that would make them spurn me. I don’t want them not to love me,” your voice broke despite your best efforts.
Jungkook immediately stole the mug from your fingers and put it next to his on the table, so he could hold your hands. “Listen to me, my parents are assholes. Like, genuine bad people who shouldn’t’ve been allowed to have a kid. I won’t tell you the things they’ve said and done to me because you’d cry, but they are a different breed. Normal parents love their children no matter what. Why do you think yours would spurn you if they were still alive, instead of realising that they were making you unhappy?”
Good point, actually. If only it wasn’t far more complicated than that…
The second Jungkook withdrew his hands, you missed their warmth, even though it was a hot summer night. He sipped at his tea, and you suspected he only mmm-ed with delight to make you laugh, given he bloody well knew its taste was disgusting. Idiot.
“Just promise me one thing,” he added, a smirk tugging at his lips. “If you quit being a novice, go out on a date with me.”
Now, that made you laugh. “A date?”
Jungkook nodded, anchoring his foot to one of the legs of your chair so he could drag it close to his and rest his arm on its top rail, the proximity such that you could feel his breathing against your cheek. Heart racing, you crossed your arms and tried your hardest to appear unbothered. “I’ll pick you up at five and we’ll go roller-skating until we can’t feel our legs, then we’ll have dinner in my van while we watch a drive-in movie– A scary one, so you cling onto me for safety. Then I’ll drive you home, walk you to your door, and you’ll go ‘Oh! It’s too late, why don’t you stay over?’. So we’ll have some drinks, and you’ll take my hand to lead me into your bedroom, and then…”
“And then we’ll say our prayers and go to sleep.”
“To sleep, yes,” Jungkook chuckled, “afterwards.”
“I don’t know what makes you think I wouldn’t live almost like a nun if I left here. I am, in fact, a Catholic.”
“A relaxed one, I dare say. Oh, come on. You’ve never thought about breaking your faith’s rules? Not even to have fun?” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for a confession, but you shook your head.
“I can have fun without breaking the rules, I always have.”
Jungkook nibbled at his lip for a while, mentally debating with himself. Whichever of the voices in his head won, it made him say, “What if I showed you my ways? Would you be up for that?”
“Up for what, exactly?”
“You’ll see.”
Tumblr media
Due to the series of communal prayers scattered throughout the day called Liturgy of Hours, it was as early as five that the whole convent got up. You’d usually go straight back to bed after the first one and get what more rest you could until it was time for class or work, but today, despite it being Sunday, a few sisters had volunteered to go to the farm and help around, you and Jungkook joining them to nanny the goats.
You didn’t mind getting your habit dirty there, but it was being an awfully hot July, which was the reason why you were wearing lighter clothes that morning when walking into the chapel alongside Jungkook to attend Mass. He was an atheist whom you supposed only went to these things to spend more time with you, and that warmed your heart.
Ever since you’d started hanging out, the same less devout sisters who’d previously flocked around him had gone back to the handsome abbot’s orbit, so the nearer pews to the altar had quickly been taken. Together, you sat alone at the back, the pew all to yourselves. Three quite tall sisters were sat in the one in front of you and acted as a barrier Father Jimin hid behind of, but as long as you heard him, it didn’t matter.
Your mind went elsewhere no more than a couple of minutes into the service anyway. Tuning out seemed to be easy as of late.
It was just so unfair, all of it. You could be learning in university, meeting new people, living a normal life where you wouldn’t need to ask an abbot for permission to go out if you fancied taking a fucking walk! It didn’t have to mean you’d stop practising your religion or let yourself fall into sin at all, nothing had to change in that regard. You took a deep breath charged with frustration. If only your parents hadn’t decided to take the car in the middle of a storm and you’d had more time to make them see reason… Why did they have to die? Why did God have to take them and leave you alone?
Right in the middle of your brooding was when Jungkook put his hand on your bare knee and asked in a whisper, “Hey, are you okay?”
You forced a smile that he didn’t seem convinced by, so his hand remained on the same spot after he’d gone back to paying attention to Mass. His touch didn’t make you uncomfortable, you welcomed it and the comfort it provided, but your jaw did drop when it slowly travelled down your inner thigh, towards your intimate area.
“What are you doing?” you mouthed, petrified at the possibility of anyone noticing. Luckily, the only person facing the pews was Father Jimin, who couldn’t see a thing from the altar thanks to your barrier-sisters.
“Showing you my idea of fun,” Jungkook leaned in to whisper, lips brushing against your earlobe. It wasn’t that what made you gulp, though, but the fact that he reached your clit and rubbed it softly over your linen shorts, up and down, side to side… The unexpected pleasure made your breath hitch in your throat, gaze flying around the chapel at the speed of light. “No one’s watching,” Jungkook reassured you. “Live a little, Y/N.” Feeling his middle finger now press your clit firmly and at an increasing pace, you looked at him, shocked there was no sign of shame on his features, eyes half-lidded with arousal as they studied your worried ones. “Tell me to stop and I will.”
Stop? You were still registering something had started there, in a sacred place, during Mass! What you were letting Jungkook do to you was all kinds of sinful, but… it felt so good you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. Sobering up, he ceased his actions at that lack of consent, and was going to withdraw his hand and apologise had you not grabbed it and kept it in place down there, much to the surprise of both.
Relief showed on Jungkook in the form of an exhale. He wasted no time, then, sliding his hand inside your shorts and underwear, making you bite down on your lip when he found your clit once more and rubbed it in circles. He lingered there just enough to make your core pulsate with ache when he abandoned it to move on to your wet slit, something you had to slouch for him to do. He eased two fingers inside you that he began pumping in and out with a mastery that got you squirming in your seat, hand glued to your mouth to hold back the moans that threatened to escape it and gaze locked on the tattooed sleeve that disappeared inside your shorts.
That was when everyone started singing a hymn. Jungkook took the chance to quicken his movements, the sounds of your irregular breathing and his fingers sliding into your juices eclipsed by the song. He licked his lips, coating them with saliva before leaving chaste kisses on your neck, knowing if his tongue met it he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from fucking you right there and then. When he pulled back, he noticed you’d closed your eyes to get lost in the pleasure, and that they opened only when you felt his breath near your parted lips, to stare down at his. So close, yet he restrained the urge to kiss you, intent on watching you come.
He didn’t have to wait long, your walls now clenching around his fingers every time he rubbed that magical spot, thighs shaking as a result. All the tension built up inside of you suddenly released, and you dissolved into a daze just in time for the ending of the hymn. Not to overstimulate you, Jungkook gently removed his fingers and slipped out of the chapel. He returned a minute later with his hand washed and dry, and although you readily intertwined fingers with his when he reached out, you dared not meet his eyes after what had just happened.
That night you lay awake tossing and turning forever, unable to forget the feel of his touch.
Inexplicably, you weren’t ashamed of all the sins you’d added to the collection that day: falling into the temptation of lust, doing pre-marital sexual acts that didn’t lead to procreation, breaching your vow of chastity, desecrating a holy place, taking the sacrament while in mortal sin… Somehow, you just weren’t. You were, right after, but now it was as though you’d managed to sweep all the guilt related to it under the rug. As for the one related to your parents, well, Jungkook had been the sweetest distraction from it.
A distraction you craved again.
You must have been held sway by a demon when you got up from bed to go find Jungkook, but you were in no hurry to free yourself from its grasp.
Except for the first night, he tended to be the sleepless one who wandered about the abbey until you eventually joined him, so you knew he’d be awake. Indeed, he was on the phone in the community room, getting tangled up in the cord as he paced around, nervous. He couldn’t see you lurking in the hallway’s shadows, so you decided to let curiosity get the better of you and eavesdrop the conversation he was having.
“No, you’re not following,” he whispered into the phone. “My cousin’s friend’s brother is into this hot religious girl, and I– he! sort of fingered her in public… In a church… No, there were people present, it was in the middle of Mass… Nobody, that I’m– that he’s aware… No, Hoseok, it’s not dope! He’s going up and down the walls like a fucking yoyo... He isn’t so sure it was a good idea, fears he might’ve crossed a line… Well, he hasn’t seen her since, I think she’s been avoiding him– Agh, he thinks!... Fuck yeah, she did, and he loved it too… The problem is that I don’t want her to regret it and feel bad about it just because it wasn’t the time or place, or to never want to have sex because I got her into it the wrong way… What? He, I said he… You’re right,” he sighed, putting an end to his pacing. “I’ll tell him. Thank you, bro... ‘Night.”
Arms crossed, you couldn’t help but smile fondly. He was that worried about it? You should’ve known, you were friends after all. That was all he probably wanted to be, at least. Friends. With benefits, but friends. Who would want to be more than that not only with a novice, but with one as troubled as you?
A noise made you look up. It was Jungkook, now by the window, flicking his lighter over and over to pass the time. Your eyes inspected his fingers under the moonlight, the same ones he’d buried inside you that morning, and the longing that had got you out of bed returned to move your feet in his direction. You must’ve been abrupt while approaching him, though, as he jolted with a gasp at the sight of you.
“Sorry.”
“Y/N…” he said as he caught his breath from the startle. He had hoped you’d show up, but not so suddenly. Payback, he thought, for the way we met. “Listen, about earlier–”
You cut his sentence short with a kiss. It was soft at first, as timid as you felt, but Jungkook soon got over the shock that had frozen him and took charge of the matter, pulling you in a tight embrace. His tongue entered your mouth and swirled around yours like it was always meant to, or at least that’s what you wanted to believe. How else could it feel so good, and Jungkook so addictive?
It was a challenge, but you found the strength to step back and whisper so lowly that he almost didn’t hear, “I want you.”
“Are you sure?” Jungkook cupped your face with both hands, forcing you to look into his eyes. No need for that, they already had you enthralled, dark with the desire you’d infected him with.  
“Yes,” you exhaled, taking his hands in yours to lead him upstairs. “With you, yes.”
Once in your cell, you lost your pyjamas in a matter of seconds, both too impatient to feel each other.
Being naked and seeing Jungkook so was initially nerve-racking but once you were under the sheets, under his toned body, your bashfulness flew out the window. Especially when you saw his dick, already hard from just making out—you figured he’d been charged up since the morning. Yet his priority wasn’t his own pleasure, but yours, not an inch of your skin left untouched by his lips as he slowly travelled downwards. Until you started giggling out of nowhere, and Jungkook raised his head from in between your boobs to look at you in confusion.
“Your Barbie hair is tickling me,” you teased him as you tucked behind his ears the blond cascade that covered his face and grazed over your chest whenever he moved.
“Barbie, huh?” Jungkook whispered next to your ear only to lay a warm kiss right under it, all while he positioned himself in between your legs. “Do you want me to tickle you somewhere else?”
“Actually, I…” How did one say such a thing? “I want to tickle you, but I don’t know what to do.”
He chuckled, “My pleasure to instruct you.”
You did as he said and reclined next to him, upside down so he could touch you—he’d insisted—while you sucked him off. It did feel strange to take him in your mouth and run your tongue along the length of his shaft, at least until you heard his breathing speed up, resisting to buck his hips into your face as he was. Your cunt throbbed, and you wished Jungkook’s cock was inside it instead of your mouth. He seemed to sense that, so his hand soon crept between your thighs to remedy your ails, a whine escaping you then.
“You’re just as tight as earlier, fuck,” he groaned from the pillow as his fingers struggled to curl and uncurl inside of you, given you couldn’t keep still. It made you all the more eager to pleasure him, taking him as deep as you could so he saw the same stars you were beginning to see yourself. “You’re doing so well… That’s it, suck it harder, darling, ah… Wait, stop, stop!”
Immediately, you backed off. “Did I do something wrong?”
Jungkook sat up and used his thumb to wipe the drooling trail of saliva on your chin. “You were doing too well, miss.” Ogling your body, he licked his thumb. “Why don’t you come over here?” You nodded, would’ve agreed to do anything he asked in that moment.
He lay down again while holding your hands to guide you over to his lap, over his erection, but your sudden nerves made you shy away. Nevertheless, Jungkook pulled you closer with a smirk. “Where are you running off to?”
“I’m sorry, just… Will it hurt?”
He sat up to peck your lips cutely, “Oh, it will be excruciatingly painful,” and you pushed his chest with an eye-roll, so he returned to his previous position. He grabbed the condom he’d stopped by his cell to get before following you to yours and put it on.
A deep breath later, you grabbed his cock and placed its tip in your wet entrance, looking down at it to make sure you were doing it right. Hands between his head and the pillow, Jungkook watched patiently, turned on by your inexperience and the fact that he and he alone got to be the one to pop your cherry, make you break your vow of chastity. He thought it’d take you a while to get used to the size of his dick, but you surprised him by rolling your hips almost aggressively the second you sat on it, chasing pleasure as though it would escape from your grasp otherwise.
“Shit, yes, like that.” All flushed under you and with his eyes barely open, feeling the way you moved with all his senses, Jungkook ignited a lust in you that even an angel would be willing to fall from grace for.
“Oh my God, it feels so good…”
“I know, baby.” He wanted to dig his nails into your hips and move them back and forth himself but found that for a virgin, you were already doing a superb job, laughed instead. “Look at you, fuck. What a dirty bitch, you’re loving it.”
“I am…” you panted, his name-calling sending you over the edge. “Jesus, I am.”
It wasn’t long until Jungkook felt your walls clench tight around him, something he didn’t blame you for as he himself was close too. His cock had been burning in his pants ever since Mass, even after he’d jerked himself off in his cell when the service had finished and you’d vanished. Grabbing your wrist, he pulled you close to his mouth and kissed you hungrily, but even then, you refused to stop moving, felt too good. “Gonna come already? You like me that bad?”
I like you a lot. You were having a tough time not moaning, especially when he talked. His deep voice did all manner of things to you. “I’m so close, ah...”
“Why don’t I help you out with that, hm?”
He didn’t wait for an answer before bending his knees and repeatedly thrusting into you with such force that it had you gasping for air. If you’d known he could fuck you like that, you’d have asked him to be on top at the beginning. Eyes squeezed shut, you buried your head in the crook of his neck to moan against it as you came, finally letting go. Jungkook bit into your shoulder, not to hurt you, just hard enough to keep himself from grunting loudly as he found his own release after a few more thrusts, but your bodies remained locked until your heartbeats slowed down.
It didn’t hit you how loud your panting had been until your breath toned down and there was silence in the room. You prayed it hadn’t woken anybody up.
At some point, you got off Jungkook for him to remove his condom and go throw it in the bin next to your desk. You covered your naked body with the sheets, expecting to next see him get dressed, but he lay back on the bed. You didn’t understand.
“Aren’t you leaving?”
He scoffed. “Kicking me out, ouch. Why would I leave?”
“I thought… that’s what guys do.” At least, that was what your non-virgin sisters had told you. That men lost interest in a woman as soon as they’d had their way with her.
Jungkook shook his head as he said softly, “I’m not going anywhere.” Having sex surely messed with one’s head, there was no other explanation as to why you blushed like a teenager. The two of you got on your side, facing each other, and Jungkook started caressing your arm with the back of his fingers, the simple action so soothing you thought you’d fall asleep. “Is this nice?”
“Very,” you replied, eyes closing against your will.
“Did I go too far earlier?”
You were taken aback by the sudden question. “Maybe, but I liked it. You were right about breaking the rules. Looking back… I think it was what you said about living a little that got to me. Here at the convent, I don’t really feel alive, but I do when we’re this close.”
“See?” Jungkook asked gently, trying to make you see his point. “What’s stopping you from quitting, then? Nothing should cost you feeling alive.”
“Apart from my parents?” you sighed. “Look around. As a novice, I couldn’t receive their inheritance. Vow of poverty, remember? What you see in this cell is everything I own.” Jungkook had already noticed on his way in your lack of personal belongings. A cross hung over the bed, a small pile of religious books on the desk, a framed photo of you with your family, and little more. It was so empty and cold that anyone would’ve thought you’d just moved in. “I can’t afford to go to university, much less live on my own.”
“Well… I’ve been saving up for a while and I’m moving in an apartment with Hoseok and Tae when summer’s over. Why don’t you come stay with us? I’m sure they won’t mind!” he said enthusiastically, eyes sparkling like he’d come up with the solution to all your problems. “I’ll help you find a job and you’ll be able to afford uni, easy-peasy.”
You were too sleepy to chuckle, but a faint smile did tug at your lips because of how determined he was to fix things. Things that were too broken to be fixed. “Let’s not talk about this right now, please?”
Even though Jungkook wasn’t pleased with your response, he forced a smile. “Why, did I tire you out?” Leaning in, he kissed your lips lightly. “You’re right, let’s not ruin the moment. Come here.”
He had you rest your head on his chest, and held lovingly, you fell asleep.
Understandably, he’d left by the time you woke up. If anyone saw him coming out of your cell, they might work out what he’d been up to there and the two of you would be kicked out of the convent. His scent lingered in your sheets, but it didn’t make any less disappointing waking up without him by your side. What’s more, as you put on your habit after having a quick shower, you were assailed by the most heart-breaking questions.
What if Jungkook had pretended to be your friend only to get in your pants? What if, now he’d got what he wanted, he blew you off? What if you’d risked everything for a guy who felt nothing for you?
To your immense relief, when you walked into the refectory for breakfast, he waved at you with a smile and gestured you to sit next to him. You were going to before Father Jimin suddenly appeared before you.
“Good morning, Y/N,” he greeted warmly, as ever.
“Oh, good morning, Father!”
“I wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”
You blinked. “It is, why?”
Shit. He knows?
“You left the chapel in a hurry after Mass yesterday,” he said, “and you didn’t show up to the remaining services. Were you unwell?”
“Oh... Yes, I was.” If you had locked yourself up in your cell, it was for no other reason than to avoid Jungkook and digest the fact that he’d fingered you in public. You lied, “I was sick all day, but I’m fine now.”
“I’m glad,” Jimin said with a smile you returned, then grabbed your hand to surround it with both of his, like old people will. “I know this comes out of nowhere, but I’m really proud of you, Y/N. For pulling through these challenging times. Many, including myself, can only learn from your strength. I know you’ll make a great nun.”
He gave your hand a soft squeeze and left you there, frozen in your spot. It was as though your sins finally dawned on you, all of them at once. You’d really believed leaving the convent didn’t have to mean you’d betray your faith and here you were, sleeping with a guy you’d met barely a month ago without shame because that made you feel alive.
What had you done? What were you turning into?
No longer hungry, you left to go back to your cell, tears already streaming down your cheeks before you made it out of the empty hallways. Or were they empty?
“Y/N!” You ignored Jungkook’s voice and quickened your pace, too ashamed to face him. “Hey, wait up!” He sprinted to reach you, concern shaping his features when he blocked your way and realised you were crying and trying to hide it from him. One thing was telling him your troubles, another to break down like a pathetic, helpless little girl. In the most caring tone, he asked, “Hey, what’s wrong?”
You explained, told him how you felt.
“I’m letting Father Jimin down,” you sobbed. “Him, my parents, God, and everyone.”
“You’re not,” Jungkook kept repeating. “You’re in a period of discernment, right? So who says you can’t reach a conclusion by trial and error? That’s what other nuns have done too. Before they got here, yes, but it was doing things they later regretted that convinced them to become nuns.”
“I don’t regret last night,” you said in all honesty, “but I do hate that I don’t regret sinning... You just can’t understand, you’re not religious.”
Jungkook looked down. “Maybe I can’t, but if I know something it’s that if what we did made you happy, it shouldn’t be a sin.” He looked around to make sure no one else was there before cupping your wet cheeks and kissing you, every muscle in your body relaxing under his touch as he knew they would. “Now come with me and eat something.”
Tumblr media
He didn’t fully convince you, but your will wasn’t strong enough to resist his tempting.
For the next three weeks, you continued sleeping together at night, pretending you were no more than close friends at day. Whatever the time, Jungkook made sure to spend as much of it as possible with you, although not for a moment did you ever let yourself believe he had any feelings for you other than sexual. You weren’t even sure you wanted him to develop them, truth be told, as this thing you had was a fling. Come the end of summer less than a month from now, he’d move out and you’d start the second and final year of your novitiate, so whatever it was between you had no future.
Still, he kept writing you songs.
Some he’d sing quietly in bed so you’d fall asleep listening to his angelic voice, but the latest one, Church, he’d also asked you to come see him perform in a concert. And so, you’d lied to Father Jimin again, claiming the ancient kettle in the kitchen was broken and a new one needed to be bought. What’s a sin more to secure your one-way ticket to Hell?
Jungkook had warned you this song was not PG-13. He’d be the one singing it, not Amber, and he’d begged and begged you to wear one of his huge t-shirts to the concert with nothing underneath, refusing to tell you why. Leaving the abbey dressed as modestly as was expected of a novice, you changed outfits in the venue’s toilets. You didn’t know why you’d agreed to it but the first line of Church explained his request.
You're wearing nothing but my t-shirt Call me shallow but I'm only getting deeper, yeah Stay on the ground until your knees hurt No more praying, baby, I'ma be your preacher
He half whispered the whole verse into the microphone, all while his eyes pierced yours from the stage. You couldn’t look away either, entranced by his voice and presence. So far from where you were sat, how could he make you feel as though the air had run out in the whole venue?
And I'll keep leading you on If you keep leading me into your room The drinks are all gone But that's fine, baby, so am I
You remembered the date Jungkook had talked about taking you out on and how… standard it now sounded to you as he turned his attention to the girls who cheered for him in the audience. Was it scripted? Something he said to all of them to lead them on? The more you thought about it, the more you realised he’d never actually take you skating. No, you were just for keeping his nights busy.
His gaze found you again.
I'm about to take you back to church (back to church) Well, tell me your confessions, baby, what's the worst? Yeah Baptise in your thighs 'til it hurts (you know it hurts) 'Cause I'm about to take you back to church (oh yeah)
I'll keep you up until the sunset Speaking in tongues, yeah, we ain't done yet (yeah) Don't take my verses out of context I know it's weighing on your conscience
Those last two lines… Further confirmation your relationship was just sex and that you shouldn’t read too much into anything he said, or feel guilty for sinning by having a friend-with-benefits. It was self-contradictory of you to feel down about him not reciprocating your feelings, but you did. Don’t they say love is irrational?
Despite how sad you’d got, the night didn’t end with the concert, but with Jungkook fucking you without restrain. When he was inside you, nothing else mattered.
You were in the back of his van, parked somewhere near the abbey yet not enough for anyone to hear the loud moans that each of his thrusts caused, even with the windows open not to melt in there.
“Fuck, keep moaning for me,” he grunted, gripping your waist to keep you in place.
“Keep fucking me, then…” Jungkook scoffed, would’ve commented on how dirty he’d turned you had he not been so close. You’d come already yourself, but were more than glad to let him go on until he did too.
“Since you’ve got such a big mouth,” he said, panting, “why don’t you put it to good use?”
It took him most of his willpower to pull out and remove his condom. You sat up and opened your mouth for him to shove his hard cock in, swirling your tongue around the tip before closing your lips tight around it and starting to bob your head to take all of him. A bit more experienced now and having learned to love sucking Jungkook, you knew exactly how he liked it done. You could feel it, his cock twitching against your tongue as you savoured it, letting you know he was going to come.
He pulled back again to jerk himself, and you began rubbing your clit, aroused again by the sight between your spread legs. “I thought you were done?”
“Yes, but you’re so hot…” you moaned, and he huffed out a laugh. Biting his lip harshly as he ogled your naked body and the way you touched yourself, it wasn’t long until he came all over your thighs, your own release following.
Jungkook smirked when he was no longer out of breath. “Dreams do come true.” He was staring at your thighs dripping with his cum and your own juices, and you realised he was talking about Church’s ‘baptise in your thighs’. You were about to smile when the rest of the song came to mind, and suddenly you didn’t feel like it anymore… Once Jungkook had cleaned you up with a cloth, he lay down next to you. “Come here.”
You always hoped he’d say that, even though he never failed to. So resting your back on his chest, he held you from behind, caressing your hands in a comfortable silence. It was then that you noticed the blank spot between the tattoos in Jungkook’s wrist. It was tiny, but seemed intentional.
“Are you not inking this bit?”
“I’m saving it for a small symbol, maybe a letter.” He kissed your temple. “Your name’s initial, what do you say?”
Your lips committed to it before your brain did. “Do you get tattoos of the others?”
Jungkook frowned. You couldn’t see him, but you knew he did. “What others?”
“The other girls you sleep with.” There was no jealousy in your casual tone, but it was still petty. Jungkook shifted so he could face you. He was indeed frowning, both perplexed and offended.
“There are no others,” he promised, serious as you’d ever seen him. “You trust me that little?”
“I didn’t think I had to trust you. Aren’t we just hooking up?”
Jungkook rubbed his eyes as if the confusion was giving him a headache. “You thought I was sleeping with other girls and said nothing?”
By what right could you ask him to be faithful in a relationship you planned to end soon? Besides, what if in doing so, you annoyed him enough to stop wanting to be friends? If sharing him with others was the only way to have him, it hurt, but you’d do it. You looked down as you whispered, kind of embarrassed, “I guess I do like you that much…”
Jungkook raised your chin with his curled index finger, made you look at him. He despised the sadness he saw in the depths of your eyes, the one you were trying to repress. “You’re much more than sex to me. I worship you and if I could, I’d spend every waking moment next to you.”
In a small pause, you tried to rack your brain. “Is that from a song?”
“No, but it should be. I’ll write it down later.” Jungkook nodded, agreeing the rhyme had potential. Still, he wasn’t going to let you change the subject. “Y/N, I’m in love with you.”
He is?  That did take you off guard.
“You shouldn’t be, I’m a novice,” you said anyway at your most hypocritical.
Jungkook sighed, “What’s so wrong about it? Don’t you love me?”
You didn’t want to lie to him. A smile made your lips stretch before you answered, “I do,” and softly, Jungkook kissed them. Every time he pulled back from a kiss, it felt like it had been too short, no matter how long it lasted. Like you needed more because you could never be sated of him. “Does this mean… we’re dating?”
“I mean, you’re technically engaged to Jesus, and I’m not a guy who likes sharing,” Jungkook joked before giving you a peck and returning to his previous position under you. “If you don’t wanna be just lovers, you’ll have to break up with him first.”
You answered nothing. Should you listen to him, though?
Around two weeks of bliss sprang from your love confessions, where it became hard to pretend you weren’t mad for each other in public, such as when he’d whisper in your ear how provocative you looked in your habit and you giggled like a schoolgirl in love—which, technically, you were. Your parents barely made it into your thoughts, as they were filled to the brim with Jungkook.
From the moment they were over, it all went downhill. Worse, it fell into an abyss.
You had just come out of class with other novices when your hand was grabbed by someone who dragged you through the hallway to head upstairs. “Sorry to steal her, sisters, it’s urgent!”
“Jungkook, what are you doing?” you asked as he led you into your cell in a rush, closing the door for privacy. “You can’t be in here during the day–”
“I’ve found a way.” Only then did you notice how excited he was, a grin across his face. “A way to pay for your university.”
His aunt had been the one to tell him, at the beginning of the summer, that he must plan ahead as an adult now that his parents had turned their back on him, but it wasn’t until he fell for you that he actually started doing that. He was sure he wanted you to be by his side on whatever path he took, for his future to merge with yours somehow.
You, however, knew this conversation would not end well. “Enlighten me.”
“Bangtan is going on a nationwide tour next year.”
“Oh my God, that’s great!” You held his hands and grinned with him. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Y/N, this means I’ll earn a lot of money.” Then, you looked away. “With what I’ve got saved up plus that, you can afford to go to uni, even a private one, and we don’t have to live with the boys, we can have a place of our own! On the road we won’t even have to sweat about that, our company will pay for everyth–”
You freed your hands from his grasp, said with a nervous laugh, “You’re going a bit fast, Jungkook…”
His grin faded. “What do you mean? Isn’t money what you need to get out of here?”
“I’m grateful you want to take care of me but I can’t leave, you know why.”
“Are you serious right now?” Jungkook couldn’t believe it. “Y/N, your parents are gone. I know it’s hard but you have to move on, I don’t want you to wither in this place when you have a chance at happiness.”
“Just because you chose to let your parents down doesn’t mean the rest of us want to.” You regretted those words as soon as they left your mouth, the sound of Jungkook’s heart breaking reaching your ears. Or was it your own?
It took him some long seconds to process you’d said that, then answer, “I told you how they were to me, forgive me for not giving a shit about them.”
“Well, mine are a different story. I do care about them.”
“And not about us? We can’t be together anymore after I leave the convent. Have you not thought about that, or were you going to end things like they meant nothing? Because for weeks, I’ve been trying to find a way to have a future with you.”
“I never asked you to,” you sighed, welling up. You might not have, but a part of you had wanted to. Wanted to go with him too. “There’s no way we can have a future together.”
Jungkook teared up as well, and you hated yourself for it. He was being met with unjust meanness from the person he genuinely loved. You sucked so bad.
“What am I to you, then? What have I been these past months?”
“A distraction.”
It wasn’t a lie, and that’s what hurt the most. You loved Jungkook, and yet, you’d used him to set aside the pain of your parents’ loss and the guilt that was consuming you for being a sinner. You were always going to dispose of him like a toy outgrown, regardless of everything he’d done for you.
He stared for a while, but you couldn’t meet his eyes out of shame. “That’s good to know,” he muttered before storming out, leaving you in a puddle of tears you deserved to be drowned in.
Tumblr media
You trudged your way to class after a grey morning in the library. There was still no passage from any religious book that excused your countless sins and promised the salvation of your blighted soul, but that didn’t worry you so much right now. What did, was Jungkook.
He was likely avoiding you—for which you couldn’t blame him—though you doubted meeting and apologising for the ugly things you’d said would be a remedy to the damage done. Not that you didn’t mean them, but they could’ve been said with tact. Jungkook’s wicked crime was loving you, after all.
So busy were you missing something as random as his cologne that you didn’t notice until the end of the class that everyone kept stealing glances at you, whispering to each other afterwards. Even if a tired demeanour wasn’t deserving of such a disproportionate reaction, you still blamed the barely two hours of sleep you’d got for your sisters’ scandalised looks, but another novice approached you in the hallway out of pity to let you know you’d actually made the convent’s news.
You froze in your spot when she said it was because Jungkook had spread the rumour that you’d been sleeping with him.
No, please... Tell me he hasn’t.
Leaving your sister where she stood and running off to find him with the disapproving gaze of every other person you passed burning into your skin, you prayed you were inside a nightmare harder with each stride.
Jungkook couldn’t have betrayed you. Someone must have seen or heard you and put two and two together, right?
Such theory turned into dust when you saw him sat in the cloister surrounded by girls like the day you’d met, playing a melody in the guitar for their attentive ears. Somehow, you knew he’d done it then, and on purpose. You started to feel sick as you approached them, whether because of the summer heat or the knife stabbed and twisted in your back, you didn’t know.
“We need to talk.”
Jungkook didn’t bother to look up as he said, “If we were still dating, I’d totally be shaking at that sentence, Y/N.”
Some of your sisters giggled, others bit their lip not to. You went red, begged, “Please.”
Albeit reluctantly, he stood up and followed you to an empty hallway. You didn’t know whether you were more upset, scared, surprised, or disappointed, but the smell of the cologne you were missing earlier managed to calm you down a little, as Jungkook’s company tended to do. Your stupid body seemed to not have caught up on the fact that he was the cause of your hurting.
“What do you want?” he asked curtly.
“What do I want? To know how you could tell everyone about us, Jungkook, how you could do this to me. I’ll be expelled! And I don’t have parents or a family that will take me back if I go apologise to them, I have nowhere to go. Is that what you want? For me to be with you because I have no other choice?”
“Of course not, we’re done,” Jungkook assured you that wasn’t his plan, which you believed. He hated your guts, his dark eyes told you. “But now you’re not tied to a place you don’t really want to be in.”
“Oh, don’t pretend you didn’t do this out of revenge.”
“So what if I did?”
You stared at him for a while, speechless like he had the time you’d last met. “And here I thought you’d proved me wrong.”
“In what,” Jungkook asked in a scoff, “becoming a nun now that you’ve been dicked down?”
The coldness of his tone stung your heart. In disbelief, you shook your head. “No, in that there was more to you than what first meets the eye.”
A grain of shock broke through the mask of indifference Jungkook was wearing, probably because your words weren’t visibly said against your better judgement this time, but while seeing him through the same lenses as his parents did. You looked at him just like them the night they’d kicked him out, in a way he had hoped you never would.
And how could you not? You’d thought you knew him, yet he’d gone ahead and ruined your life. Maybe you never did know the real Jungkook at all, who was now too taken aback to come up with an answer before another novice approached.
“Father Jimin wants to see you, sister,” she said, after which you took a deep breath, nodded, and followed her without so much as giving Jungkook one last glance.
In his office, sat on his desk, Father Jimin was quiet. Had been so since you’d come in and sat down.
One of his elbows rested on his chair’s arm and two fingers pressed on his closed lips as he thought of what to say. You already had an idea of what it would be, and it made you no more ready, fists clutching the skirt of your lap.
“I don’t know what to say,” he finally confessed in a sigh. It struck you how it was the first time in the few years you’d known Father Jimin that you didn’t see a smile on his face, or at least friendliness. He was the kind of person who always saw the best in people but right now, there was nothing good left in you. “I’m truly at a loss for words. I never thought you’d do something like this, or that I’d find out from other mouths.”
Tears blurred your sight at the memory of him telling you he was proud of you. “I know I have no right to ask for forgiveness, but I’m begging you, Father. It was the mistake of my life–”
“You broke your vows, Y/N. Defiled a holy place.” Oh… Jungkook had admitted to that as well? Chin trembling, you pressed your lips together not to cry. “Lied to me about it and God knows what else… This behaviour cannot be tolerated. You can stay in the abbey until you find a job and a place to live, but you are dismissed from this community, if not excommunicated.”
You sobbed, unable to hold it in anymore, “Father, please. I can’t let my parents down, their last wish was that I become a nun–”
“Isn’t it your wish? Were you lying about that too?” Your head lowered in shame and Father Jimin leaned back into his chair with a loud sigh. “You should have thought about your parents before getting involved with Jungkook. Be grateful they aren’t here to see you stray this bad.” He waited for you to say something, but shame kept you from it, as he was right. “You may leave now.”
Everything had happened so fast that a week later, you were still assimilating it.
Except when necessary, you barely left your cell. Dreaded both the judgemental looks of your sisters and the non-existent ones from Father Jimin, who ignored your presence whenever he had to suffer it in the chapel or the refectory. Not to mention running into Jungkook. To your knowledge, he’d been kicked out too, was sometimes seen moving boxes from his cell to his van. There wasn’t much for him to pack, so you guessed he was dragging the process. What for, you tried not to care.
That was the main reason why, helped by the yellow pages, you’d been job-hunting through the telephone. Not that it was better or worse than going in person, because nobody wanted to employ an ex-novice anyway. They literally hung up when you mentioned you’d been expelled from the convent—as expected, to be honest—but lying again was not an option. You’d learned your lesson the hard way.
Eventually, you did manage to land an interview for a job. Given it didn’t pay that well, it’d be a while until you could afford to move out of the abbey and even longer until you’d step in a university as a student, which was frustrating, but at least you didn’t need anyone’s permission to leave. Since you weren’t a novice anymore, nobody batted an eyelid at you heading outside the afternoon of your scheduled interview.
You were near the main door when, out of nowhere, Sister Daeun stopped you to talk.
“My nephew’s told me everything. I can’t say I approve of your relationship, but it does make me feel better that there was love involved. A lot, apparently,” your gaze averted to the ground, “which makes your decision to break up with him out of respect for your parents all the more admirable. It was wrong of Jungkook to make it public, he knows that, and he would like to apologise and give you the money he made this summer.”
“I couldn’t take it, sister,” you opposed. “It’s his. He needs it to pay rent, he’s moving in with Hoseok and Taehyung.”
Wait, was that why he hadn’t left yet? Because he wanted to wait until September so he didn’t have to pay for August?
“He’ll make much more when he’s on tour,” Sister Daeun insisted. “This is the least he can do for you. That I can do for you, too. You’ll always be my novice, Y/N, no matter what.” Without a second’s thought, you hugged her tightly. It was solacing to know there was at least one person who saw past your sins. “Jungkook’s gone to get the money but he won’t be here until late, Bangtan is opening for another one of those rock bands in a concert tonight. He’ll give it to you tomorrow.”
“I was just going into town, so if you tell me the name of the venue, I’ll stop by. He must be there doing a stage rehearsal.” You remembered the light in his eyes when he’d explained to you everything about the vocation he was so passionate about, how sweet his smile was… No. No. You shouldn’t feel anything after what he’d done. “I want to get this over and done with as soon as possible.”
That turned out to be yet another bad decision.
Once your interview was over, you rushed to the same venue you’d seen Jungkook perform Rock God and Church.
Paying no mind to the fans at the entrance who looked askance at you for jumping the line, the security guy let you in when he recognised you. Memories of the two nights you’d previously been there stormed you while getting backstage, especially how fast your heart had beat because of the racy lyrics of the songs and the way Jungkook had looked at you from the stage.
Now, it died inside your chest as you watched him make out with Amber at the end of the otherwise empty hallway.
He had her pinned against the wall, hands gripping her ass to press their bodies together and lips devouring hers as though he couldn’t get enough. Amber’s hands were wrapped around his neck, and she now grabbed a fistful of his hair to pull his head back and start kissing his neck. You saw how Jungkook smirked at the action, turned on by her dominance.
Both in their rockstar outfits, they looked like a perfect match, so you couldn’t help but wonder if they’d been dating all along. If that boyfriend of hers Jungkook had told you about was none other than himself.
Forcing yourself out of your shock, you exited the venue through the back as quickly as you could, saving the cascade of tears that was already building up in your eyes until you were alone.
It wasn’t that you were going to forgive him and expected his apology to come with an offer to date him again, but even after everything he had done to you, you still loved him. You hated yourself for it, but you couldn't help it. You were so stupid that you wished he'd find you there, sat on the cold concrete, and just held you in his arms until you stopped crying.
The next day you slept through breakfast, and would’ve stayed in your cell until lunch had Father Jimin not summoned you to his office again.
Curiously, this time around he looked… sorry?
“I’ve been made aware of some information this morning,” he said from across his desk with a nod.
“About me?” You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Oh, God, what now?
“I can’t answer that because it has to do with a confession, but it’s made me realise I was wrong.” He leaned in, gaze moving around as he tried to think of a way not to reveal anything disclosed in the confessional box. “I should’ve been more cautious instead of welcoming just anyone into our home. Sometimes, I fail to see beyond the surface, and it results in the harm of others. A harm I pray it’s possible to heal from.”
“I don’t understand…”
“What I mean is that you don’t have to be afraid anymore. You can go back to being a novice, or take as long as you need to resolve any doubts you might have. Whatever you choose, I’ll support you.”
“But, why, Father? The things I did– You forgive me?”
“I’ve seen you regret them even if they weren’t your fault, so yes, I do.” You frowned. “I just hope you can forgive me too.”
On your way back to your cell, you walked slowly, using all your energy to figure out what Father Jimin had been talking about. When the answer popped up in your mind, you turned around and ran through the abbey. If Jungkook had done what you thought he had… Fortunately, it didn’t take long to find him, as you almost crashed together when turning to the next hallway. Had it not been because he’d grabbed your waist in time, you would’ve fallen.
When he realised it was you, he let go and stepped back. “Y/N, I wanted to talk to y–”
“Did you tell Father Jimin you raped me?”
The question took him by surprise. “He talked to you first… Wait, I thought confessional secrecy was unbreakable?”
“He didn’t tell me, I deduced it on my own.” You crossed your arms, disappointed you were right. “Why would you do that? I can’t make sense of it.”
“It was the only way to get the abbot to take you back. It’s not like he can report me to the police, and I’m leaving anyway… I told him I made you do things and that you were scared to tell anyone.” Jungkook looked everywhere but your eyes. “I’m really sorry for outing you. It was fucking childish of me and you didn’t deserve it. I was just so mad at what you said… but I know that’s no excuse.”
A part of you wanted to apologise for that and even ask him if it was too late to start over, but another reminded you of what you saw last night and stopped you, along with the one that should hold the most weight—your parents. It was a miracle you’d been given back the chance to honour their wishes, so you couldn’t ruin it again.
“I also wanted to give you this.” Jungkook handed you an old school bag. “My aunt told you what’s inside, right? She mentioned earlier you were going to come pick it up yesterday at the venue.”
“Yes, I forgot…” you lied. “I was at a job interview and got out quite late.”
“That’s okay. Did it go well?” He shouldn’t have asked, it was none of his business anymore. The interest in you had just rolled out of his mouth before he could stop it.
“It did, actually.” Both of you knew that if you went back to being a novice, you couldn’t take the job, but neither addressed it.
“Swell.” Jungkook put his hands inside his pockets, looked at you like he wanted to say much more. “I hope you have a happy life, Y/N. I really do.”
“Wait, are you saying goodbye? You’re leaving now?”
So soon?
“Yeah, poor Father Jimin thinks I’m… Well, you know. I wouldn’t want someone like me around you girls either. Plus, it’s September today, summer’s over,” he said with a forced smile. “Hoseok and Tae are waiting for me in the van. I shouldn’t keep them waiting.”
Before he could leave, you walked closer and gave him a hug. It didn’t feel right even when he wrapped his arms tight around you and buried his face in the crook of your neck, what with everything left unsaid, but you needed to feel his warmth one last time.
“Goodbye, Jungkook. And happy birthday.”
Tumblr media
Two years later
“You’ll like Bangtan, they’re wicked hot,” Chloe said for the third time, rather trying to convince herself than you, as she knew rock wasn’t your type of music. “Especially Taehyung, he’s my favourite!”
The concert was supposed to start soon, so hugging yourself and rubbing your arms, you stood on your tiptoes to check if the long queue ahead was moving any faster. “Well, I’m glad they’re hot, ‘cause I’m freezing.”
She, Chloe, was a friend you’d made on the first day of university. Lots had changed.
“It won’t be long now, get the tickets ready,” she gave you something to do, to forget about the February cold.
As she’d promised, it took less than five minutes for the two of you to enter the biggest venue in town. Such was the fame of Bangtan now. You were only glad the security guy from the other times wasn’t there to recognise you, since Chloe was unaware of your past as a groupie. It wasn’t that you were keeping it from her… You just didn’t feel like talking about him.
“Come on,” she grinned while grabbing your hand, all excited, “let’s get close to the stage!”
The concert lasted what felt like an eternity.
Not only did you have to endure Rock God and Church again, which opened the wound of a relationship you still hadn’t healed from, but you also had to keep your head down so as to not be spotted by the band members.
It was going alright, though, until you made the mistake of glancing up, and saw him. And he saw you.
Minus the fact that he wasn’t a blond anymore, Jungkook looked the same as always. Not that that was a bad thing. Whether in his rockstar outfit or covered in goat milk, he took your breath away. He skipped a few notes due to the shock of seeing you in the crowd but as the professional he was, he managed to make his faltering almost unnoticeable and keep playing the guitar like nothing had happened. But he wouldn’t lose you out of sight.
You wanted to look away, leave, even, but found you couldn’t, like Jungkook had put a spell on you. A spell that only broke once Bangtan thanked their fans for coming and left the stage.
Chloe, who’d been cheering throughout the whole show, now went on about how amazing it had been, how hot Taehyung had looked. Not really listening, you automatically nodded to everything until you heard, “Let’s go to the toilets before a line forms, I really need to pee.”
“Sure.”
You held her purse while you waited outside, recalling how Father Jimin had warned you seeing Jungkook again would only make your wound sting—to which you’d agreed! The only reason you were there was because you’d promised Chloe. Chloe, who was taking so long.
With a sigh, your eyes neglected that random spot on the floor they’d been fixed on and flew around to end up on those of Jungkook, who was walking towards you. The few people in the line to use the toilets gasped and watched their idol, but he didn’t care, walked past them like they didn’t exist. You, weren’t sure what to feel when he was finally in front of you.
“Hi,” he said with a faint smile that you returned rather awkwardly, given the fact everyone was looking at you. “Can we talk… in private?”
Every cell of your body told you to decline, that Jungkook was a book you shouldn’t pick up again even to leaf through, but your head nodded on its own accord. Hope you don’t mind, Chloe.
It was upstairs to the now deserted first floor he led you, and the balcony of which you stood next by, where you could see the few people left heading out. They didn’t hold your attention for longer than a second, though.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” Jungkook spoke almost shyly, yet his eyes didn’t leave your face until he forced them to, not to weird you out. How long had he been staring like that? But you looked so pretty...
“I’m here with a friend from uni, she’s a fan.”
He didn’t understand. “Wait, you ended up leaving the convent?”
“I did finish my novitiate but I never took the vows. They let me live there, though.”
It wasn’t a decision you made overnight, obviously, and one Father Jimin and Sister Daeun worked hard for many months to make you see it wouldn’t have upset your parents as much as you believed, much less get them to stop loving you. In fact, you were still coming to terms with it, not entirely free of guilt, but a mix of secular and spiritual life was proving to be exactly what you needed.
The university and the abbey, parties and Mass, your new friends and your family… You could have both and save your soul from damnation. Now, could you save your heart from breaking all over again? It felt like it already was, physically so close to Jungkook yet so far that an uncomfortable silence had fallen between you.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
You looked at him. Cut to the chase, alright… “I’m not. A-Are you?”
Was that a sigh of relief he let out through his parted lips, or did you just want it to be? “No.”
“I thought you’d be dating Amber.” Jungkook frowned slightly, so you went on and confessed, “I saw you together the night before you left. I came to pick up the money and… Well, none of that matters now.”
Horror painted Jungkook’s face. That was how you’d remembered him? Getting off with Amber?
“She’d just broken up with her boyfriend,” he wasted no time in saying. “Neither of us was thinking clearly. It was a one-time thing, an adrenaline rush after a concert.”
You hugged yourself, lips pressing together at the details you didn’t want to hear. “You don’t need to explain, we weren’t dating anymore…”
“Fuck, I’m sorry that you’ve thought all this time that I was with her,” Jungkook apologised anyway, gaze falling to the floor in shame. “Actually, I know that it doesn’t count for anything, but I’m sorry about a lot of things.”
“Yeah, I wish it did. Count… Or better yet, I wish I’d gone with you,” you laughed, at the fact that you meant it.
“What?” Jungkook took a step closer, as though he’d misheard and wanted to make sure he got it this time. Suddenly, you realised what an idiot you were being.
“Nothing, forget it.” You turned around to leave before the lump in your throat summoned any tears, but Jungkook took your hand to stop you. He couldn’t let you go, even if he’d been the one to leave last time.
“I’m glad you didn’t come with me, Y/N, and that you got to do what you wanted. But I do wish I hadn’t ruined everything and hurt you. If I could go back, I'd punch me in the face.”
It didn’t mean you’d forgotten, but the truth was that you’d forgiven what he did a while ago. After all, “I was also a dick to you.”
“If you’re a dick, then I like dick.”
Actually, you hated him.
You hated even more that that made you laugh but it was because of Jungkook’s clownery that you first fell for him. And you’d never stopped loving him. He smiled fondly, caressing your hand. On his wrist, where there used to be a small uninked spot, now was your name’s initial. Neither had he, it seemed.
“Does this mean you want us to…?”
His eyes opened wide, feigning scandal. “What, here? I’d sooner do it in a chapel.” You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t keep from smiling. “How about we start with a date? Say... Friday at 5pm? I know a good roller-skating rink.”
Tumblr media
⇢ drabble: faith
3K notes · View notes
fatesmono · 18 days
Text
rockstar bf yoongi
✮⋆˙ a.n : hi ! vee here ! this is kinda late but this for my baby boo sugar plum honey pie min yoongi's bday !!
✮⋆˙ so yea i hope you all enjoy !!
✮⋆˙ love yall !! enjoy reading my loves <333
Tumblr media
🎸 met him at one of his shows your friend dragged you to
🎸 almost immediately fell in love with him bc of how into his music was
🎸 you kept going to more and more of his shows and he didn’t notice you until the third show when he saw you in the front row again and recognized you
🎸 bent down to you after the show to just chat
🎸“ive seen you here before . . . you a fan ?”
🎸 you explained you were and he invited to his next shows, you kept going to every show you could until he asked you out for a date after one
🎸”wanna grab a drink with me doll ?”
🎸that date turned into more and more until he asked you to be his after a show after singing a song written specifically for you
🎸 brings you to every single show and always makes sure you’re in the front row
🎸 has had to check the fans and his bandmates on several occasions to make sure they know that you’re his.
🎸“flirt with her again and you’ll be walking into the bar with your drumsticks inside your rectum, mkay ?”
🎸 suprises you with gifts after the shows and makes sure to give you a kiss before every performance
🎸 a fan threw him her bra once and he immediately tossed it back and went back to playing without a second thought
🎸 stays up all night the day before your anniversary writing you a song and plays it at his next show, keeping his eyes on you the entire performance
🎸 you surpirsed him with a new guitar for your anniversary and he almost cried then and there
🎸 never fails to reassure you whenever you feel insecure abt the fans being all up on him
🎸 “love i don’t care if it was a supermodel trying to be with me, i want you and thats final.” 
🎸LOVES calling you pet names, rarely uses your actual name, even in an argument
🎸“baby can you pass me the pick with your initials on it ? i wanna play with that tonight” (hyyh yoonkook i miss you)
🎸 didn’t know he liked nicknames until you called him one while hanging out with him backstage, always needs you to call him “yoon” or “yoongs” to help him calm down
🎸 loves the smell of your shampoo, used it once by “accident” and got made fun of my his bandmates while you listened in
🎸“just shut up . . . i smell like [y/n] so thats all that matters, so shut it and play”
🎸will always try and show you just how much he loves you in any way that he can, no matter the cost or energy it takes
🎸“have i ever told you just how stunning you are ? you make me lost my breath everytime i look at you”
134 notes · View notes
cybertink · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
♩  ◦   ₪ ˚ 🥀 ︵
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
114 notes · View notes
euaphoric · 8 months
Text
uhmm… these pics r making me wanna do a 80’s au with jk as the hot rocker bf w a belly piercing that plays bass and likes to throw reckless hotel parties every night >.< he’s like head over heels for his girl (that does modeling on the side) who’s lowkey intimidating and brings everywhereee w him, especially when he goes touring cause the groupies be acting a little too crazy, like girlies be throwing bras on stage shsjsgsj ((his gf used to be a groupie too but he found her rlly intriguing and now uses her as his musical muse/artistic vision)) . gawwwd he’s makin me dizzy frfr 😵‍💫😵‍💫
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
219 notes · View notes
taexual · 2 months
Text
sleepwalking ● 19 | jjk
Tumblr media
pairing: jungkook x fem!reader
summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.
genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers
warnings: explicit language, ANGST & FLUFF (i mean it, watch out), SLOW BURN
words: 14.5k
read from the beginning ○ masterlist
Tumblr media
chapter 19 ► so dig two graves, ‘cause when you die, i swear i’ll be leaving by your side
Tumblr media
When the tour bus arrived in Glasgow, you realised that you had slept perhaps a quarter of an hour in total tonight. Discomfort and Regret had become unwelcome companions that kept you up.
Last night, you had planned to talk to Jungkook, but he flipped the script and did all the talking instead. And if you had to describe your choices from then on, you’d have to accept that, essentially, you had run away without saying anything.
You realised now, through tossing and turning in your bunk the whole bus journey, that this was your recurring pattern.
When you and Jungkook first broke up, you’d barricaded yourself in your apartment and only ventured outside when it was unavoidable, like to go to work. Or when your friends forced you out of bed. They tolerated your need for silence in moderation—a few days of self-imposed isolation were okay. But two consecutive weeks was a little excessive.
In Stockholm, the impulse to run away had gripped you right after your conversation on the bridge sank abruptly in the waters below. In Oslo, you had actually run away after you’d almost kissed. You could still feel the shivers on your skin from the cold night air on the rooftop terrace. And, of course, you’d also planned to avoid him when you arrived in Manchester.
It was a pattern that was doomed to end in failure every time, yet you stubbornly refused to give it up.
You wanted to escape the feelings that frightened you, but they only ran faster. They chased after you like daunting shadows. They caught up with you. They engulfed you.
This perpetual cycle wasn’t just futile, it was also unfair—to you and to Jungkook. And to Rated Riot, too.
It had gone on for too long.
You were determined to redeem that today.
Tumblr media
While Jungkook and the boys were doing an interview on a local radio station after the soundcheck, you chose to stay at the venue to work. Initially, you only intended to answer internal company emails and update the label executives, but unsurprisingly, that morphed into more tasks that needed your immediate attention.
Seated at your laptop in the band’s dressing room, you spent a good couple of hours finalising Rated Riot’s schedule for the rest of the week, emailing back journalists and verifying their credentials before issuing backstage passes for upcoming interviews, and humming along to a tune playing in your headphones.
It was then—during the chorus of an old Bad Omens song that was loud and messy enough to keep your mind alert and focused—that Seokjin decided to tap you on the back.
You jumped up as high as it was humanly possible and pushed your laptop away as if to protect it from intruders—which was what your mind assumed Seokjin to be, apparently. He took a step back, shocked and very entertained by your violent startle.
“Shit, sorry,” he said, attempting to suppress a smile. “You’ve been—you’ve been working here by yourself for hours. I’m taking a coffee break. Want to join me?”
With one hand pressed to your chest, you slid your headphones off and checked the time on the corner of your laptop screen. “Uh, sure. Coffee sounds nice.”
The two of you found a quaint café a few blocks from Barrowland where Rated Riot would be playing later that evening. But despite the cosy setting, you chose to grab your coffee to-go. It was a warm, sunny day outside. Seokjin thought you could use some fresh air.
“So,” he said eagerly, as soon as the café bell tinkled, announcing your exit, “what’s on your mind?”
You met his question with surprise. “What do you mean?”
He maintained an air of nonchalance, sipping his Americano and observing casually, “your pupils are massive. You look like you’re planning a revolution. Or a massacre.”
You took a sip of your drink and regretted not stirring the caramel in better. You wondered what it would be by the end of tonight: revolution or massacre.
“I was—well, it’s nothing much,” you said. “I was just thinking that things might be different when we got home.”
“How so?”
The two of you crossed the street towards a small, vibrant green space—not quite a park—with a tree-lined pathway in the middle and an old blue police box nearby, reminiscent of Doctor Who.
“Well,” you said, “I hear Brazil is really nice that time of year.”
“You’re thinking of going on holiday?” Seokjin asked, surprised. He’s known you since you joined the company, even before you started to manage Rated Riot, and he was well aware of your lack of holidays. The HR department, however, remained blissfully ignorant about it.
You shrugged. “For starters.”
“And then?”
“And then we’ll see.”
The ambiguity in your response wasn’t worrying in itself, but combined with your reluctance to meet his gaze and the intense concentration on your coffee—even though you winced every time you took a sip—it was certainly alarming.
“You’re not… going to quit, are you?” he asked hesitantly. “I’ve heard about Reconnaissance.”
Of course, he’d heard. At this point, enough people knew about it for the news to have a ripple effect and circulate backstage.
“No,” you said, trying to dispel the tension with an airy laugh. “Of course not.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
“I’d find a replacement first.”
Seokjin’s casual stride came to an abrupt halt. A few steps ahead, you realised he’d stopped and turned around.
“No,” he said.
His firm declaration made you stutter. “Th-that—that wasn’t a question.”
“And that’s not an option,” he argued. “You can’t quit.”
“I’m not saying I’m leaving for sure. I’m just saying that if I did leave, you wouldn’t even notice the difference,” you said. “I’m a very good teacher.”
With that, you started to walk away, leaving him little choice but to catch up.
“And I love all of you guys,” you continued while Seokjin grunted next to you. “I wouldn’t leave you with someone I didn’t personally trust to take care of you and the band.”
He shook his head, his determination unwavering. If he had known about the band members’ conviction that no one would blame you if you left Rated Riot due to the alluring offer from Reconnaissance, Seokjin might have been tempted to express his disagreement with his fists.
Of course, people would blame you—Seokjin was the people in question.
You belonged here. You were an essential part of the team.
He was convinced of this, and he was going to be annoying about it.
“Okay, I appreciate that,” he said, his tone tinged with incredulity. “Except, what the fuck are you thinking? Of course, we’d notice the difference! You’re you. We love you.”
“That means a lot—”
“But not enough?”
You hesitated, caught off guard by the intensity of his anger. “No, it’s—”
“Alright, look.” He stopped walking again, the paper cup of coffee in his hand more of an accessory than a beverage. “Is this about Jungkook?”
An unexpected heat surged through you and a cascade of excuses immediately raced through your mind. You scanned the pathway, reading the names of the bands imprinted into the pavement with colourful stripes—artists who’d performed at Barrowland before, you assumed—so you wouldn’t have to look at him.
But this was Seokjin. If there was anyone who knew everything that was going on in the band, it was him. You didn’t want to give him pretend reasons.
“In part,” you admitted.
“Well, if that’s the case, then it’s an even more definite no,” he asserted, his resolve unyielding.
You sighed and attempted to smile, but there was a hint of awkwardness in your expression. “I’m not taking votes, Jin. I’ll talk to Jungkook about this, and—”
“You can talk to anyone you like. All the gods you can find, even,” he interrupted. “But you’re not leaving.”
“Jin—”
“Look, when you accepted this job, the fact that you and Jungkook used to know each other didn’t matter,” he stated, tactfully omitting the word ‘relationship’—a nuance you appreciated. “What difference does it make now?”
As you bit your lip and lowered your eyes, Seokjin sensed that there was a difference, after all. It occurred to him that perhaps he wasn’t entirely up to speed on everything that was happening on the tour, after all.
“Okay, you don’t want to talk about it, and I’m not asking you to,” he said, his words gentle, but his tone strict. “What I’m saying is that nobody cares. You can date, you can break up, you can—I don’t know. You can pretty much do anything as long as you don’t kill each other. No one cares.”
“The label cares,” you blurted, the words unpolished and agitated. “I care.”
He waved his free hand dismissively. “The label cares about profit. We’re making a profit from you both. Maybe even more when you’re together because you’re both less annoying that way.”
Your eyebrows furrowed. “How are we annoying?”
“Are you kidding? All mopey and sulky?” He stuck his tongue out and pretended to gag. “You make me sick and miserable.”
You snickered softly at the dramatic display. “Fair. Sorry. But fact is, it’s still a good opportunity.”
“Well, sure,” he conceded. “But is that really the reason you want to leave? Or is it because you think that what you’re doing with Jungkook is wrong? You think others will disapprove or think less of you. You think this is highly unprofessional, and it would make more sense to work elsewhere.”
It felt oddly incongruous to hear him articulate—so easily, without a moment’s hesitation—everything that you had been thinking.
“Well, that’s a factor, too, of course…” you said, your voice faltering.
“I think that’s the main factor.”
Taking a sip of your coffee, you mumbled, “I think you think too much.”
“I think you don’t think enough,” he countered. “You can’t leave, not even for Reconnaissance. You’re part of the team, our team. We all are.”
You looked at him, and he raised his eyebrows expectantly—waiting, clearly, for you to admit defeat.
While you didn’t technically need his consent to quit, the sheer determination in his stance made you feel as though his approval was, indeed, a prerequisite for anyone choosing to leave.
“Now you’re making me feel guilty,” you said.
“As you should!” he said—nearly bellowing in his frustration. “But you should feel guilty about mistakenly thinking that you should leave. Not about being in love with him.”
His words struck a deep chord and your heart began to rattle violently in your chest. “I’m—right. Yeah. I need to talk to him about—about everything.”
His tone softened at your reaction.
“I think you should sit down for ten minutes and gather your thoughts before you do that,” he advised. “You should sit and accept that we don’t care if you go out with Jungkook. Whatever you decide, we’re all cool with it. As long as you are, too.”
Afraid that your eyes would betray your thoughts, you shifted your gaze to the silver barks of the graceful birch trees around you. “Do you know about the bet?”
Seokjin took a slow sip of his coffee to allow more time between these overlapping conversations.
“Yeah,” he said. “Is that... uh, have you two worked it out?”
“We’ve—I think we have. I think the bet wasn’t even the main issue, actually, it just—it sort of highlighted all our problems,” you admitted. “We—we’ll have to work through the rest.”
“Right. Okay,” he said. The sun rolled out from behind the buildings, casting a golden glow on the trees and the empty path ahead of you. He squinted and took a sip of his coffee before speaking. “Well, then I can safely tell you that everyone backstage knows about it.”
The disappointment on your face was absolute. “Oh. That—that’s lovely.”
He smiled sympathetically as the two of you continued down the faintly coloured path. Despite the sunshine, the cool breeze toyed relentlessly with the edges of your jackets.
“Don’t worry about it too much, though,” he said. “It’s nothing more than a silly joke backstage. We’re not judging either of you.”
You did worry about it. “What… do you mean by ‘silly joke,’ exactly?”
The two of you arrived at a large sycamore tree with leaves that glimmered in emerald hues under the sun, and Seokjin stopped, grateful for the shade.
“One of the roadies started it,” he explained. “It was just a game. A bet, actually! Funny.” He chuckled at the irony, but stopped himself when he noticed your stoic expression. “Anyway. Someone suggested that Jungkook’s friends were trying to sabotage your relationship by making this bet with him. So, we bet on Jungkook fighting his friends for you. Which—that cost me money, actually. When he showed up at the airport in Cologne with a black eye, I lost fifty euros.”
It took you a minute to process this, and you felt so uncomfortable that your fists itched with an urge to fight someone, too.
“You—so, you bet that he wouldn’t fight his friends?” you clarified, almost hopeful.
“No. I bet that he would,” he said. “But I got too big-headed and bragged about how he wouldn’t miss a single punch. So, everyone claimed that I lost and took my money. Really, I thought he knew how to fight. And he was doing it for a noble cause.” A dramatic pause ensued, and then Seokjin smirked. “I mean you, by the way.”
“No, yeah, I got that,” you said bitterly. “But you didn’t even know the actual—everyone just assumed he had a black eye because of me?”
He pulled his lips together to stifle a chuckle as he moved his cup of coffee away.
“Can you blame us?” he asked with a leisurely shrug. “He’s in love with you, and his friends are complete idiots. And then he shows up with a black eye! The dots connected themselves. Although, personally, I thought Luna or Maggie could have socked him in the eye, too. You three are very protective of each other.”
You tilted your head, your posture a warning. “I see. So, we’re a telenovela to you. Did you bet that I would knock someone out if I found out what you were up to?”
“Not yet,” he said, clearly delighted by the prospect of this happening in the future.
“Did you get your money back at least?”
“Yeah. But then I lost it again.”
The leaves of the sycamore tree rustled impatiently as you groaned. “How?”
“Another bet,” he said. “Some people—including Jimin, by the way—thought that Jungkook’s friends would never come to another Rated Riot show. In the UK specifically. We were very specific about the details in this bet.”
“Right, of course.”
He smirked, unapologetic about the amusement he derived from this. There were all sorts of games happening backstage at any given point in the tour; nearly everything became a joke here. And Seokjin hoped to show you that yes, people did know about you and Jungkook. But unless they could find ways to make it funny, they didn’t care.
He could tell that the more he talked to you about this, the more you started to recognise the absurdity of it all, too.
“Right. Well, Jimin won that round. I actually—I thought Jungkook would change his mind and bring his friends back,” Seokjin confessed. “Serves me right. I should have trusted him more.”
You raised your cup in his direction.
“Yeah,” you said. “Serves you right for making bets about this. He blacklisted Sid.”
“He—oh!” Seokjin seemed very pleased to hear this. “Well, that was worth my money, then.”
“Hmm.”
He grinned, the mischief still lingering in his eyes.
“We have another bet going on,” he said.
“Anoth—well, of course.” Your teeth dug into the coffee lid as you tried to take a sip, but reconsidered. “So, what? Who’s getting a black eye this time?”
“It’s whether you’ll get back together.”
Your irritation wavered in surprise. A rustling stirred inside you as though you had swallowed the wind and carried it within.
“Well,” you said. “Where’d you place your bets?”
“Drink your coffee,” he said. You did. It had cooled and turned unpleasantly sweet as the caramel settled. “I haven’t bet on that yet. But if you told me if you’re considering going back to him, I could win my money back.”
You made sure to swallow before looking up.
“That’s not solely up to me, though,” you said, sensing an obvious defensive undertone in your own voice. You didn’t make much effort to conceal it; he would have read right through you anyway. “A relationship typically involves two people. I can’t force him to be in it.”
Seokjin offered a patient smile.
“Please,” he said. “Everyone knows he’d burn down half of Europe for you.”
You swallowed again.
It was just you. The only one still fighting it.
“Well, in any case—” Seokjin said, distracted, suddenly, by a particularly cheeky pigeon that kept flying up to your ankles, then to your knees. “That bird is going to steal your coffee.”
You glanced down, and the shift in your position frightened the pigeon into flying a few metres away. Seokjin nodded in approval.
“Anyway,” he said. “What I meant to say is that I don’t know how much my opinion is worth, but if the only reason you’re considering quitting is because of this, then that’s nothing. You sit down, you work through your problems, you get back together, and you’re good to go. Well, good to stay. It’s up to you. No one else cares.”
You raised your eyebrows. “Everyone’s talking. They’re making bets about us. We—we’re a joke backstage. And yet you think we should get back together?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Give us something else to bet on.”
Exasperation flashed across your face. “I’m thinking I’d like to sic that pigeon on you a little bit.”
“Oh, but what would you do without me?” He was grinning in a manner so endearing and genuine that you felt your lips stretch into a defeated smile as well. “You know we’re family. That is what we do. And you said it yourself – everyone’s already talking. And no one’s truly bothered by it. You might as well do what you want.”
You took a big gulp of your coffee to finish it.
Some of the humour faded from his eyes while he watched you. He looked around—to make sure the pigeon hadn’t returned and to gather his thoughts.
“Just think about it, okay?” he said. “You know how they say ‘measure twice, cut once’? Why don’t you measure three times? Four, even. Five. Or, I don’t know, as many times as it takes until you realise that there’s no need to cut anything. Everything’s great as it is.”
Your face felt warm. “That’s very profound.”
“It is.” He nodded, his exaggerated confidence faltering a little when he saw the gratitude in your eyes and suddenly found himself timid. “I’ve also got a few carpentry jokes if you’re in the mood for those.”
Laughing finally, you shook your head. “Maybe later. But thank you for this.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. “And notice how I’m not saying ‘anytime’? Because there can’t be another time that this happens. In fact, the next time I see you, it’ll be as if we never had this conversation.”
Still smiling despite his threatening tone, you put your palm to your forehead and extended your fingers in a salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”
He nodded, content with your response.
“Now go back to that café and bring me a scone,” he ordered, his expression bright again. “I got distracted by your misery and forgot to buy one.”
You snorted and nodded—you did owe him a scone, at the very least. Seokjin stepped deeper into the shade by the tree and waited while you jogged back towards the café. He looked up to see your lighthearted expression reflected in the window across the street and felt himself exhale in relief.
He’d done his job—you knew everyone needed you here.
Tumblr media
You returned to the venue with enough scones for the whole staff, and as you passed them out, almost everyone on the team regarded you with a mix of curiosity and anticipation. It was a nice change from their earlier concerns about your health, but you still felt uncomfortable.
There was an obvious reason you enjoyed working backstage: here, you successfully evaded the spotlight. You did your work quietly and got to spend time with your friends.
But lately, you’d been feeling everyone’s eyes on you and, naturally, your instinctive reaction was to flee. Really, this had to be inherent; you wondered if your brother shared a similar flight-or-flight-never-fight response when confronted with an uncomfortable situation.
And still, you forced yourself to wait.
Following your conversation with Seokjin, you decided on the key points that you needed to discuss with Jungkook. And they were simple: share your thoughts with him and make a decision together.
You’ve never really tried this with him before; open communication was a recent development for the two of you. But you meant what you told Seokjin: a relationship involved two people. And regardless of what -ship you and Jungkook were currently in, your decisions still influenced his, and his influenced yours.
You had hoped to speak to him after he returned from his interview, but it was almost funny how time worked against you today.
After the band returned, you went to help Jungkook with his bandages, and the company executives decided to respond to your email with a phone call. And so, you were forced to stay on the phone with the label the whole time before Rated Riot went on stage.
That was okay. You figured you would talk to Jungkook later.
But later just wouldn’t come.
After the concert, you waited for the band to finish taking pictures with their fans before you took them to another interview with several more radio hosts. And when you returned to the bus, the curtains on Jungkook’s bunk were drawn. You didn’t want to wake him in case he was asleep.
The only time you finally had direct contact with Jungkook was on the plane to London. He surprised you by approaching you from behind and casually lifting your carry-on to the overhead compartment. Then, as though he hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary, he turned around to return to his seat.
“Wait,” you called out. “Can I—can we talk? Yoongi said he’d switch seats with me.”
Jungkook stopped, his stomach sinking. He was the undefeated champion of misinterpreting situations—he hadn’t forgotten how your conversation had ended last night, but he still thought this was about Sid.
Because while you were beating yourself up about your avoidant tendencies, Jungkook was grappling with a different problem.
Since this morning, he had been bombarded with incessant text messages from an unknown number that ranged from vaguely bothersome (“UR SO DUMB LMSAO”) to genuinely threatening (“DNOT THINK THS IS OVER YOU FUCKVING CUNT”). All texts contained a certain distinctiveness: full capitalisation, typos, and a disturbing scent of wounded ego.
It was Sid, Jungkook was absolutely sure of it.
He seemed to be in a white powder induced frenzy, which wasn’t particularly unusual—Jungkook didn’t think he could remember the last time Sid had been completely sober—but the frequency of the texts was a little unsettling. Jungkook thought the bet was over now, even if Sid wasn’t satisfied. But clearly, Sid was craving something more.
Jungkook wasn’t sure how you would know about this or why you would bring it up now, but he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket again, and he thought this had to be the reason why.
“Sure,” he said, trying to mask his apprehension. He turned on airplane mode on his phone and looked up. “What’s, uh—what’s going on?”
You gestured at his seat. He sat down with bated breath—as if his life was about to change and he needed to brace for it—and waited for you to settle beside him.
“I wanted to, uh, explain myself,” you began as the plane filled. The rhythmic sound of people shuffling across the aisle was oddly soothing. Jungkook, however, appeared perplexed. “And to thank you, actually. For being there when I—well, when all of that happened. I’m sorry I caused—”
“You’ve already thanked me,” he interjected. “And you better not tell me that you’re apologising for fainting right now.”
“I’m—well, I’m just saying, you were right,” you said, disheartened by the disbelief in his eyes. You placed your water bottle on the fold-out tray and shifted in your seat. “I should have known better. Rested more. I guess what I’m saying is that I’m sorry I didn’t listen, and it all led to... that.”
He sighed. This wasn’t about Sid; this was about something worse.
“That’s who you are, though,” he said. He should have known this would be something you would blame yourself for once you recovered. “You always have to get everything done, or you—you can’t sleep. You need to, uh, work on that, but you don’t need to apologise for it.”
You looked down, tracing a shaky finger over the armrest between your seats.
“And,” he added before you could speak, “to be fair, a lot of things that happened on tour were actually out of your control. You had no choice but to put in extra time and effort, I guess. The stage constructions collapsed, the venue was flooded—”
“Right, but these—well, anyway,” you cut yourself off, reverting to your original train of thought. “I’m sorry you had to drop everything a-and worry about me. Well, not just you; the whole thing ended up being a big scene that disrupted everyone. But I—I wanted to say this to you, first of all.”
He observed you for a long moment. Between the truce you’ve decided on in your hotel room, the conversation he’d overheard about your meeting with Nick, and the disturbing messages from an unknown number, Jungkook was having a hard time comprehending what he’d done to warrant an apology from you right now.
Then, a troubling thought occurred to him: what if this was your way of saying goodbye?
He had let you go last night. What if you had decided to leave, and this was the prelude to the end of your time together?
“I’m—I didn’t have to do it,” he said. “I did it because I—well, I mean, you were passed out. Of course, I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He leaned forward in his seat. “It kind of sounds like you’re forgetting that you’re not just the manager here. You’re also my—uh, y-you’re our friend. We all would have acted the same way if it had been anyone else. It’s an ‘all for one, and one for all’ situation with us. You know that.”
He was right; your team had grown so close that none of you would have hesitated to help each other. Your unease simply stemmed from the fact that you were the one receiving help this time.
You swallowed. You thought you owed him an explanation about everything, but you haven’t even really gotten to it yet.
“Thank you,” you said. “For what you said and—and for what you did. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
He gave you a hesitant smile. “Was I really so terrible at taking care of you that it made you change your workaholic ways?”
You raised your eyebrows, surprised by the gentle teasing in his words.
“No, you di—you were great. Except for the fact that you didn’t need to do that,” you said, shooting him a look that he promptly rolled his eyes at. You added, “I say that with gratitude, of course. But, um, I felt very uncomfortable just lying there while everyone else—well, can’t let that happen again. Anyway, this isn’t—”
“I hope it won’t happen again,” he interrupted. “But it’s—well, you’ve spent your whole life taking care of... everything. Your brother, your mum, uh, e-even me. It’s second nature to you, I don’t know how else to—you can’t help but actively try to fix things. So, I-I don’t mind being the person who reminds you to take it easy sometimes. I just want you to listen.”
He’d said something very similar to you last night and you dug your teeth into your lower lip so you wouldn’t argue.
You thought you weren’t doing a very good job of fixing things—nevermind that you’ve subconsciously turned absolutely everything around you into your personal responsibility, and it was simply unrealistic to take care of it all.
“Thank you,” you chose to say. “I just, um—I don’t want you to think I’m talking to you so you’d make me feel better. You don’t need to do that. And it’s my turn to expla—”
He whipped his head to look at you so suddenly—an almost offended expression on his face—that the rest of your sentence got caught in your throat.
“Wh—why do you always think that?” he asked. “That I do something for you because I feel like I have to?”
“I don’t—I know you’re not—ah.” Leaning back in your seat, you attempted to rearrange your thoughts as if you were shuffling stubborn cards in a deck—trying to find the one you needed to win a game against yourself. “That’s not even the main thing I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Okay,” he said, a little worried. “What is the main thing?”
It took you a moment to find your breath.
“The conversation that we had last night—well, not just last night, actually, it’s been happening for a while. But, uh, last night specifically—it wasn’t supposed to end like that,” you said. He lowered his eyes. “That’s what I wanted to, um—to bring up. Because we’re not talking again, you know? I mean—okay. That’s not true. You are talking. But I’m not. I-I think it’s still new to me that we’re—that we’re actually talking about things. About everything. I’m sorry I haven’t said much to you in return.”
You exhaled when you finished speaking—finished stammering, really—but you didn’t feel relieved. There was a lot more you had to say.
Jungkook, on the other hand, felt his thoughts drift back to Amsterdam once again, when he had entered your hotel room to apologise, and you told him you forgave him and apologised in return. He remembered the pained, laboured beating of his heart as he listened to you—thinking, all the while, that he had no right to want you all for himself.
Now, he had some additional time to think about how to respond, because the flight attendant started the safety demonstration at the front of the plane, preparing for take-off.
He fastened his seatbelt, relieved by the silence on his phone—but the quiet pause between you as the plane lifted off the runway felt very loud in his head.
“You know,” he said after a few minutes, “you find the weirdest things to feel guilty about.”
You furrowed your brows while Jungkook idly twirled the onyx signet ring on his index finger.
“You’re never obligated to respond to what I tell you,” he said. “I didn’t say any of those things to you in Manchester in exchange for your immediate forgiveness, or for some similar stories, or for—anything, really. You don’t owe me anything. I just wanted to tell you everything, and that’s it.”
“I-I get that,” you shifted in your seat, restricted by the seatbelt, “but I’m your manager. And I-I left you in a confusing, stressful situation by yourself when I refused to talk to you right away. That was—it was unprofessional at best, and cruel at—”
“You’re more than that to me, though,” he cut in. You gripped the armrest tighter. “You know that. And you didn’t… leave me in that situation as my manager. You left me there as my ex-girlfriend. You have that right. You were confused and stressed, too.”
Your gaze slid over his black and grey flannel and the t-shirt with a Rated Riot logo underneath. The plane cruised at the designated altitude, but you still felt pushed into your seat like you had during take-off.
“I don’t—I’m not sure those two roles can be separated any longer,” you admitted.
Oh, whispered an alarmed pang of his heart. And, oh? echoed the multitude of shivers rippling underneath his skin.
“What are you saying?” he asked.
You drew in a breath. You didn’t want to start from the beginning because you had a feeling that he might not let you get to the end, so you decided to start from the explanation—the one that you’d come here to give him, but kept getting sidetracked as he responded to you in ways you weren’t anticipating.
“People on tour,” you began, “are very invested in our, uh—situation.”
Jungkook arched an eyebrow. “They’re invested?”
“Apparently, we’re a popular topic backstage.”
Quickly enough, he thought he figured out your implication: if he hadn’t played along with Sid, the staff on this tour might have been having very different conversations.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“No, that’s not—well, it’s not just your fault,” you replied. “It takes two, right?”
“Right, but I was the one who made the bet.”
“You—okay. But this isn’t about the bet—” you paused. Reconsidered. “Well, alright, the bet sort of kick-started a lot of things, but it’s not—that’s not the problem from my point of view right now.”
Oh, once more. And then, ah.
You were talking, he realised, about the things you didn’t want to talk about in your hotel room in Manchester. The things you’ve affectionately labelled as “a confusing, stressful situation.” The things you were supposed to discuss later, when the time was right. Except he had succumbed to the terminal case of nothing-matters-anymore-if-you’re-leaving-the-band and got drunk instead.
“Okay,” he said. “That’s… fine with me.”
“Alright,” you said. “So, here’s our problem: I’m your manager.”
Jungkook raised his eyebrows and pulled his chin back.
“If that’s our only problem,” he said, “we are very lucky people.”
A brief smile flickered on your face.
“It’s our biggest problem,” you clarified. “But we definitely are lucky.”
Encouraged by the amusement in your eyes, he grinned. “Because we have each other?”
Your smile grew and even the plane itself seemed to shake a little when his heart rate accelerated at the sight of it.
“Because we can solve this problem,” you said.
His face fell. He thought he could guess where you were going with this.
“How do you mean?” he still asked, his voice a low murmur.
You thought you could have used some of the whiskey that Jungkook had sought out last night.
With a measured breath, you said, “I leave the band, and—”
“Wait,” he cut you off. “Is that supposed to be—”
“Hear me out first—”
“No, listen—if the problem is that you’re my manager,” he said, “then you leaving Rated Riot is not the solution.”
Jungkook sounded a little like Seokjin had earlier—a stark contrast from the way he’d spoken to you last night by the bus.
“Are you suggesting that because people are talking about us backstage?” he pressed.
You turned away. “It’s not just that. I mean, they’re already talking and that’s—well, it’s not great. But we can’t stop the wheel from turning now, or however that saying goes. What we can do, however, is stop it before it gets worse. And by that I mean, you know—we need to decide what the hell we’re doing.”
That was what he wanted, he thought. But now he was confused.
You seemed to want to make a decision about your relationship together. Yet you also seemed to believe that leaving Rated Riot was the best option. He failed to see how both of these things were possible at the same time.
“So, you’ve made up your mind, then?” he asked. “About leaving?”
“That’s what I want to talk to you about,” you said. “I don’t want to leave the band, but—”
“Well, that’s the thing, then,” he said sharply, unfastening his seatbelt. Turning to face you, he stumbled over his own confusion, “I’m—I don’t want to hold you back. I told you. But I thought you—I thought it would be—I thought you wanted to leave. I thought—but you want to stay. So, stay.”
Stay.
It was very simple, really, very concise. But it carried a lot more weight than his words last night when he had caught you off guard. When he had let you go.
You wanted to stay. You just didn’t think you should.
Your response wasn’t particularly verbal. “Hmm.”
“Is it me?” Jungkook asked. “Am I the only reason you’re thinking of leaving?”
He didn’t sound accusatory, even though you were prepared for it. He sounded apologetic instead—almost guilty—and you were completely unprepared for that as a million tiny needles pricked at your heart.
“You’re not the only reason,” you replied. “You’re part of it. And I don’t—look, I-I don’t want to leave. But that sounds reasonable when you look at where we are right now.”
He heard nothing of what you’d said.
“That’s not reasonable in the slightest,” he insisted.
“Jungkook—”
“You have to stay. If you—”
“But if that’s the choice that would make more sense for us,” you interjected, exasperated, “then I don’t mind leaving. If—if we weren’t working together anymore, then maybe we could try to finally figure our shit out.”
Now he heard it.
He had a vague awareness that the other passengers behind you had turned off their screens and removed their headphones, choosing to listen to your conversation instead. But he was too stunned by the look in your eyes to care.
So, that was what you were trying to say: you were prepared to leave Rated Riot to fix your relationship.
He opened his mouth to speak, but it took another minute for coherent words to come to him.
“We can—we can figure our shit out while working together,” he said. “Why do you have to leave?”
“It’s—you have to understand,” you said, “that I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m pretty sure neither do you, but that’s how you usually function.” Jungkook sobered up enough to offer a noncommittal shrug. You continued, “but for me—this is freaking me out. I don’t—I don’t know what’s going to happen and what we should do, and—leaving the band sounds—it seems reasonable. It seems safe. Smart. And that’s what I’m clinging to.”
He swallowed, not trusting himself to move. “But that’s—”
“Please, it’s—this is what I wanted to say to you—what I should have said to you last night.” There was a pleading tone in your voice. He nodded, quiet while you continued. “If I stay with Rated Riot, and we try to solve our problems… there are only two ways that can go, right? We both know as much. Either we get back together, or we don’t.”
Jungkook was mesmerised by how glaringly simple this was, in principle: either you used a label on your relationship, or you didn’t.
He knew he was going to love you either way, but he couldn’t breathe, suddenly, at the thought of this other choice in this dilemma—the choice where you didn’t get back together, and he spent the rest of his life deliberately going crazy, so he could return—at least in his mind—to that day seven years ago when he first met you.
“Well, uh, yeah,” he managed to say. “That’s pretty much the choices that we’ve got.”
You reclined in your seat, lifting your gaze to the light control buttons overhead.
“If we get back together…” you began, exhaling. “Then, we might have to face a lot of problems from the label. But we might be alright in the end. I don’t know.”
Jungkook tightened his jaw. He attempted to formulate a response that would be logical and appropriate in this situation. But really, his head felt too small for his thoughts and his tongue too big for his mouth.
“That’s… that’s good to know,” he eventually said.
“Mhmm,” you replied distractedly. “But see, what if we don’t get back together? Or we do, but it doesn’t work out?”
That was what worried him, too—but for different reasons.
He knew that you were looking at this from a pragmatic perspective. A logical, what-would-make-more-sense perspective.
He didn’t think he’d ever looked at it this way. For him, this was simple: he loved you and wanted to be with you. He didn’t care how inconvenient and illogical it might seem to those around him, and he refused to think about what would happen if this love didn’t work out. It would have to. How could it not?
But he recognised his privileges; he knew he didn’t have as many responsibilities as you did. And, alright, fine, he thought about it—realistically, if you broke up again, he’d probably drink until he turned into a puddle of whiskey, while you’d flee across the globe to get away from it all.
And yet—was that all there was to this? Just rationality and calculated decisions?
Jungkook cleared his throat and asked the question that he believed really mattered here.
“Do you love me?”
Someone on the plane gulped audibly and held their breath. He wondered if it was him.
The colour of your eyes deepened, then blurred. “I-I—that’s—that’s not—”
“Answer me,” he whispered.
You tried, but no words came out. This moment resembled the nightmares that haunted you lately: you opened your mouth to scream, but silence stifled every sound you tried to make.
“T-that’s—” you began and stopped yourself before you could stutter any further. You took a breath. “That’s not important right now—”
“How can it not be—”
“Because I do love you,” you said quickly—the words slurred into one desperate Idoloveyou, a hopeless Idoloveyou, a how-can-you-possibly-expect-me-not-to Idoloveyou. “But I don’t think I should. I don’t think you should, either. We’re a—we’re a fucking mess.”
Visibly frozen, Jungkook found himself thinking that if this was the sixteenth century, and the two of you just happened to have this conversation in some public square, the townsfolk would have surely accused you of witchcraft.
It was uncanny, the way you cast a spell on him with just four words—all four of which he heard with perfect clarity: I do love you. Granted, he wasn’t sure if he heard the rest. He felt like he was already burning in your place.
“Right,” he thought he said. He couldn’t feel his face. “But we’ve always—”
“I’m—I have to—I do owe you,” you said. He watched you, his expression oscillating between mild confusion and outright bewilderment. “You said I don’t, but I do. I could have told you what was going on in my head like you told me. Honestly, all this time, whenever I talked to people, they all told me to speak to you. To talk it out. And I closed up in my head instead. If I don’t talk about it, I don’t have to deal with it. You know?”
He blinked, finally. “That’s—”
“I’ll explain it, though, okay?” you said. “Please?”
You gave him too much power—as if he could ever say no to you. As if he could stop listening. As if every fibre of his being didn’t ache to stay close to you.
Warm—so unbearably warm that it felt like he was in the middle of exploring the landscapes Dante depicted in Inferno—Jungkook wiped off the sweat from his palms on his dark jeans.
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, okay.”
“It won’t take long,” you assured. “Really, I don’t even have much to say. I’m fucking scared. That’s all there is to it.”
Jungkook seemed to be practising the lost art of swallowing his tongue. He wanted you to continue and you were biting your lip in a way that suggested that this was not all there was to it. You only wished it was.
You took a trembling breath, and your lungs followed—quivering, it seemed, as they tried to provide you with the oxygen necessary for all that you were about to say.
“I spent the first fifteen years of my life watching my parents break up and get back together again,” you began. “And do you know what I felt every single time they broke up? Actual rage.” You laughed wryly here like this reaction was absurd. “But when they got back together, I was fucking—I was hopeful. I refused to speak to them, of course—I was a teenager—but I was… Inside, just like my mum, I also hoped that this would work. That this time would be the one.”
You swallowed and lapsed into a silence so long and heavy that Jungkook worried you might never speak again.
Fifteen years, he thought. And all this time, he’d assumed that your dad left for the final time when you were twelve. That was already bad enough, of course, but Jungkook hadn’t realised that the back-and-forth between your parents that you’d mentioned back in Tilburg had taken place after that. He hadn’t realised that you and your brother had gone through three years of almost having a father—and your mum through almost having a partner.
“I knew they were a tragedy together,” you continued. Jungkook didn’t know how to raise his eyes to look at you. “It was obvious that it wouldn’t last. I always knew it, and I always said that to my mum. But deep down, I still fucking hoped that they’d get together and it would work.”
You shook your head with a cold, unforgiving smile.
“How fucking stupid,” you concluded. “All hope does is bring misery and disappointment.”
“You were a child,” he said, his brows drawn together—sad and a little scared for your younger self. “You just wanted your parents to be together. You wanted a family.”
“Yeah,” you said with a sigh. Then again, “yeah.”
A minute passed without either of you speaking. Flight attendants crossed the aisles, offering complimentary snacks, but missing you—either by mistake or because there was no one in your seats on the plane. The two of you were somewhere else.
“I think,” you said once the commotion around you quieted, “that I wasn’t just angry at my mum for trying again and again, even though it never worked. Or for never losing hope that maybe they could be happy together. I think I was also angry at myself. Because I never truly lost hope, either.”
Jungkook hung his head, his lips tight in silent contemplation.
“So that’s what I’m afraid of,” you said. “I’m scared that this—us—will turn out to be like that. I’m scared that we’ll let wishful thinking take over, and we’ll get back together even though we shouldn’t. Even though it’s obvious that we won’t last.”
Right away, he wanted to insist that you would defy those odds. That there was nothing obvious about the two of you whatsoever. He wanted to promise all that and more, but it wasn’t right—not after you endured fifteen years of broken promises between two of the most important people in your life.
“You, um—” he started to say and coughed suddenly, caught off guard by his dry throat, “—you told me before that you admired your mum’s courage. F-for trying again.”
You handed him the overpriced airport water bottle that you had bought earlier. Jungkook nodded in gratitude.
“I did,” you confirmed. “And I do admire that about her. But I don’t have any of her courage.” You brought a shaky finger over your forehead, not quite scratching it. “I always say that I don’t believe in second chances, but the truth is, I think I do believe in them. I’m just debilitated by my fear that these second chances might not work out.”
Jungkook lowered the bottle. He’d emptied almost half of it in a single gulp, but an anxious undercurrent inside of him had absorbed it before he could feel any relief.
“Is that, um,” he tried to ask, “is that something you feel in general or—or because it’s us?”
You thought about that for half a second and shook your head.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been in a situation where a second chance held so much significance,” you said. “This isn’t a mistake that you can fix. It’s not a human error. It’s you and me. And it’s so—it’s final. There won’t be another chance for us, it’s now or never. And what if it’s never?”
You lowered your gaze, your fingers restless as they toyed with the sleeves of your black shirt. Every now and then, you’d lift your hand to your bare neck—you still hadn’t found any of your necklaces—as if seeking a distraction from the weight of the moment.
“Y-you are—you’re my—” you tried and couldn’t. Finally, you looked at him, and the words you couldn’t voice were right there, shimmering uncertainly in his dark eyes. “You’re my first thought in the morning and the last one at night. I don’t think my heart could take it if I started to have hope for us again, but we didn’t work out in the end.”
Jungkook felt his heart trip over several beats—
Stumble down his ribs—
Crash into his stomach—
Roll around the hollow cavities somewhere at the very bottom—
Rise suddenly, all the way back to his chest—
Expand—
Expand—
Expand—
And explode, it seemed. In a flash of light so vivid and intense that for a minute or two, his blood stopped running and he survived on nothing but the words you’d just said.
“And so that’s what I meant,” you finished, and he struggled to hear your next words over the loud pounding in his chest. “If I stay here and we don’t get back together—or we do, but not for long—then what? We see each other every day, we try to act like nothing’s wrong, we learn how to go back to being professional, and then four years later, you make another bet?”
Jungkook found the end of your sentence so utterly unexpected that he wasn’t sure if he had even heard you correctly. His response was half of a gasp and a fractured “I—” before you cut him off.
“I’m joking,” you said with a gentle smile—one that managed to feel both, very fitting and completely out of place in this situation. “That’s—well, that is why I think it’d be more reasonable for me to leave. That way, I think, we could figure it out without some dramatic, tragic consequences in case it, uh—in case something goes wrong.”
“R-right,” he said. A warm haze settled on his face in a delicate shade of pink. It appeared almost soft to the touch. “I… I understand. I-I don’t—I don’t know if there’s anything I can say that would take that away. All of your fear.”
You swallowed and nodded. “Yeah. There might not be anything to say at all.”
Jungkook hurriedly ran his tongue over his lips. He wasn’t thinking about you leaving right now. He was thinking about you staying and fighting through it.
He wanted to say something more, but he didn’t think he could mend these particular wounds in your heart. They ran deeper than his love could reach.
It wasn’t him that you should have talked to about this. It wasn’t him that could help you reach an agreement—or, at least, an understanding—with your own self.
“You should talk to your mum,” he said.
You looked up from the floor of the plane, surprised. “What?”
“Talk to her,” he repeated. “Just to hear what she thinks about everything. To hear her reasoning. To understand why she made the choices that she did. I think that would be good for you both.”
Your surprise deepened and gained an edge. You looked alarmed, as if the notion that a caregiver could ease your hurt rather than deepen it was new and foreign.
“I’ve—we’ve never—my mum and I have only talked about her relationship with my dad maybe once in our whole lives,” you said. “I have never even talked to her about my own relationship. You know I haven’t.”
He nodded solemnly. “I have, though.”
“What?” you asked. There was a ringing in your ears. “You have—you’ve talked to—to my mum? About—”
“I’m sure she’ll tell you everything.”
For a good minute, you watched him with an expression that held more questions than possible ways of asking them.
“I—I’m very confused right now,” you managed.
He nodded again, understanding, but still not offering any explanations.
He’d told you most of everything, really—he’d called those bits of the story “Haunting” and “Cursed.” But the rest of it had to be something you pieced together on your own.
For a long time, he had imagined this to be something that would hit you years later, perhaps when you would accidentally hear an old Rated Riot song. You’d think no, it can’t be, and you’d rush home. You’d pull out the albums, the track lists, and the lyrics.
And you’d know.
These conversations with your mum were his far side of the moon—invisible, but still present, still heavy.
These conversations were his thoughts and hopes and countless fears.
They were everything he brought to Rated Riot and everything he expressed in the recording booth, in Namjoon’s studio, and on stage.
They were his past and his present, and someone else’s future.
They were him without you, but still searching for you every morning when he woke up.
They were you, you, you.
Everything he’d ever talked to your mum about had been his songs. And all his songs had always been a tale about you—in every banal, every impossible narrative he could find within himself.
They were about seeing you and growing wings.
About kissing you and coming home.
About losing you and bleeding out.
About forever and five minutes that don’t mean anything once they’re over.
“I’m sorry,” he said, not capable of much else. “I needed her help with something. I didn’t really tell her anything, uh, directly, so to speak. But she—she knows. She’ll tell you everything. It’s just, um—you have to talk to her, too. You have to tell her what you told me.”
Airplanes, you realised suddenly, made it very easy to force yourself to stop running away. There was nowhere to escape—you could see the clouds reflected in his eyes and you were already falling in them anyway.
“I’ll talk to her,” you said.
Jungkook gave you a small nod and scratched his knee absentmindedly.
“I want you to stay,” he stated. “With the band. It’s—it’s selfish, but it’s the truth. I’ve always tried to encourage you to stop thinking so much a-and just do what you wanted, and this—this is what you want, despite your fear. You want to stay.”
You looked at him with a forlorn expression and he felt his hands twitch at his sides.
“But what will we do?” you asked.
“We’ll figure it out,” he promised. “I mean, we’ve gotten this far, right? So, give us a chance. We’re not completely hopeless. We can... talk our way through it all, step by step.”
You’ve talked your way through a lot and you have gotten this far, that was true. Even if the journey hadn’t been pleasant.
Seokjin had told you earlier today that as long as you stayed with the band, no one would care about what happened next. And, really, no matter how you looked at it, this was what it all boiled down to: it was just you.
Only you—afraid of what others will say, afraid of getting hurt and hurting him again, afraid of doing too much, and afraid of not doing enough.
“I’m—” you tried, “w-we don’t know what will happen. That’s why I’m—”
“I know,” he said. “And you’re right. We don’t know what will happen. That’s fucking terrifying. I’m scared, too.”
He did look a little scared, but he licked his lips and successfully collected himself.
The two of you were so close to meeting in the middle and taking that first step together—just a little more strain between your shaking, outstretched hands.
“And I-I know that the bet is another thing that—that might make it harder for you to believe that we can—that we can work it out,” he added, spinning his ring around his finger twice more. “But I want you to know that it—the bet was a fucked up thing to do. But it gave me a reason to talk to you about everything that I already wanted to talk to you about. I’m—even without the bet, I would have approached you, eventually. It just—I was fucking scared, so it might have taken me longer.”
It wasn’t just you.
Fear was in the epicentre of everything you were saying to each other. It was like the wind in every city you visited on this tour—inescapable, uncontrollable, persistent.
He was afraid, too—of trying and failing. Afraid of getting his heart broken and breaking yours. Afraid of never finding the forever that he desperately wanted with you.
“My point is,” Jungkook finished, “I think this is inevitable, because—well, let’s be honest,” he chuckled softly, trying to lessen the gravity of his confession, “all I’d ever wanted in my entire fucked-up life was you.”
Your breath trembled.
Something very deep inside of you wanted you to believe that inevitability was meant for the two of you, too.
“It’s been four years, though,” you said with a faint shake of your head. “What if it takes us another four to find a way to make this work?”
“It—well, I don’t really care how long it takes, to be honest,” he said. “I’m going to die yours.”
He said that and your heart stopped beating for a moment to listen.
To wait.
To make one thing very clear for you: you would never survive losing him again.
And you were scared—completely petrified—to find yourself in a situation where losing him was possible. Where it was likely.
Jungkook saw it on your face. He saw everything—the anguish, the pain, the doubt, the fear.
But he felt a little exhilarated to find the fight in your eyes, too. This fight was the reason you were talking to him about things that you’ve never talked about. It was the reason you were here.
“We’ll decide everything else when the idea of—of trying again doesn’t scare you so much anymore,” he said, keeping his voice steady. “When you hear your mum’s point of view, and you can make a, uh—an informed decision.”
He noted that there was something softer in your eyes when you looked at him again, but he could still discern the lingering edges of doubt.
“You think that’ll help me make an informed decision?” you asked, touched by his choice of words.
“I hope it will,” he replied. “But we can work it all out, either way. I just think you need to talk to her. It’s been so long.”
“Right. It has been.” You clasped your hands around your neck and tucked your chin between your palms. “It—it probably won’t be an easy conversation, though.”
“Nor will it be short, I imagine.”
“Hmm. Probably not.”
He sensed the growing distance between you as your eyes ran over the back of the seat in front of you. He knew you well enough to understand what you were doing: you were mapping out the rest of your story in your head.
He didn’t like that. Your stories rarely had happy endings.
“You don’t—don’t start planning it ahead, though,” he said hastily—before you reached the unhappily ever after in your mind. “It’ll be late when we land in London. You need to sleep. Talk to her after that. When you—when you’re not working. We can wait. We have time.”
Finally, you allowed your gazes to meet again—and to linger a little longer this time.
You took a moment to note that, despite knowing Jungkook for so long, every time you looked at him, you still needed a minute to will yourself to keep breathing. You remembered thinking, after your first few dates, if that would ever go away—logically, it should have.
But you watched him now, seven years since you’ve met, and the beating of your heart still felt backwards.
I’m going to die yours
I’m going to die yours
I’m going to die—
“Okay,” you finally said. “I’ll call her as soon as possible.”
He nodded twice and closed his eyes for a brief respite—but hesitated, suddenly, before opening them again.
He wondered, for a suspended moment, what it would mean for you—this ‘as soon as possible.’
Then he looked at you and decided to tell you what he wanted it to mean.
“Before that happens, though—before you talk to her, I mean—I-I want to still be able to see you,” he said and did so assertively, using the phrase I want, but really meaning, I must. “I don’t want to not talk to you.”
You felt your frosty expression crumble effortlessly into a soft smile.
“We’ve agreed to a truce, right?” you said easily. Lightly.
His heart soared.
He was smiling, too, but with caution—his lips were pressed together as he bit into his lip ring to contain his smile to a level that he thought appropriate.
His shining eyes gave him away, however, and you wondered—the thought sudden and overwhelming—if there was a point in your life when you weren’t in love with him when he smiled.
“Let’s try a friendship,” he proposed.
“Oh—” Your smile abruptly turned into laughter as you remembered trying this once before. It had lasted for about two days. “You know we can’t be friends. We don’t know how.”
The gentle cadence of your laughter made him weightless.
“What are you talking about?” he teased—so high that he was certain the flight attendants were going to ask him to take it down a notch because it was dangerous to float on the ceiling in the middle of a flight. “We can be whatever the fuck we want to be.”
Your laughter grew bolder, strengthened by the relief that you’ve had this conversation, that you’ve decided on your next steps, however uncertain they were—and his smile spread.
You could see him beaming through your half-closed eyes, and there was absolutely nothing—no matter how big or small, significant or not at all—that you wouldn’t have done for him when he looked like that, and no amount of fear could have stopped you.
He'd burn down half of Europe for you, Seokjin had said.
You were worried you’d burn all of it for him.
“Honestly,” you said, “we’re such a mess that I have nothing else to say. Sure. Let’s try being friends again. Why not?”
“For the time being?” Jungkook asked. There was a tentative glint in his eyes. “Until we figure out if—until we decide what we’re going to do with us?”
It was very considerate of him to say ‘we’ here, when you knew that you were the one who needed to get it together in the end.
“For the time being,” you confirmed.
“And you’ll stay?” he asked once more. “With Rated Riot?”
Last night, he had told you he was letting you go, and you needed to hear it—not just to see how much he’s grown, but to fully understand yourself. To stop jumping from possibility to possibility. To accept that it was okay to do what you wanted sometimes.
The past few days were like flipping a coin and realising, while it was mid-air, which side you were hoping it would land on.
“I’ll stay.”
Tumblr media
Jungkook thought that this flight was going to be the most thrilling part of his day. But a miracle happened as soon as the plane touched down in London.
His grandmother called him.
It wasn’t an accident like he had initially assumed when he saw her name on his phone. She called because she missed her favourite grandson and wanted to wish him good luck at his concert (and chastise him a little for not wearing “enough clothing” on stage).
Jungkook wasn’t sure if the tears in his eyes were because she’d remembered who he was, remembered what he did for a living, because she’d called, or because she’d confirmed his long-held suspicion that he was her favourite grandson.
Perhaps, and most likely, it was all of these things.
He was so excited that he stared at his phone even after the call had ended, ignoring the influx of more unintelligible, frantic messages from the same unknown number. He probably would have spent the rest of the night fixated on the screen if his battery hadn’t run out by the time everyone settled in the hotel.
At that point, there was nothing Jungkook wanted more than to tell you about the fifteen-minute phone call. However, he couldn’t call or text with his phone off—and waiting for ten minutes until he found the charger in his suitcase seemed like half of an eternity.
Unaware of the lateness of the hour, he lingered outside the hotel, thinking of a plan.
In the end, he decided he didn’t want to draw more attention to your friendship—he hiccupped on the word even in his thoughts—and approached the decorative garden at the front entrance. Ficus plants (artificial, as it turned out) rested in a bed of pebbles (real, for some reason) and Jungkook grabbed a handful of those before heading back to the south wing of the hotel.
He counted down the windows until he identified yours, then took half a dozen steps back from the wall and tossed a pebble at your window. It hit the glass with a gentle thud and dropped onto the grass four floors below.
Jungkook waited for a minute—or what felt like a minute—and tossed another one, making this one bounce against your windowsill before it slipped into your room through the crack of the open window.
He waited again and, finally, your curtains fluttered. A moment later, he saw your puzzled face as you opened the window and covered your squinting eyes with your hand, peering down into the darkness.
“Jungkook?” you called out. “What—what the fuck are you doing?”
“Trying to get your attention!” he shouted with an elated lilt in his voice.
You picked up the pebble from the windowsill and lifted it. He couldn’t see it very well from the ground, but he could see your confused expression.
“By throwing rocks at my window?”
“Yeah!”
“How—are you—for what—”
You stopped. There wasn’t a singular question you wanted to ask, because nothing about what he was doing made any sense whatsoever.
You leaned over the windowsill to get a better look at him, but it didn’t help much. The light from your hotel room made it difficult to discern his expression in the pitch-black night. And the garden lights adorning the exterior of the hotel only highlighted his white sneakers.
“I’m sure there were a lot of steps you could have taken before you had to resort to this,” you shouted into the night. “Most people text. Or knock on the door.”
“My phone’s dead,” he explained, lifting a black block that you assumed was the dead phone. “And I didn’t want anyone to see me going into your room. Can you come down here?”
“Wh—hold on a second.” You retreated into the room to put on a robe over the t-shirt you had worn to bed. The night wind felt a little less frigid when you leaned out of the window again. “Can you just come up here? It’s nearly six in the morning, no one will see—”
“Come on, we finally have a few days off!” he shouted, implying, clearly, that you’d have time to catch up on sleep later. After days of him forcing you to rest, this was very unusual—but, really, quite welcome.
You realised that something important must have happened for him to do this. However, his buoyant voice—and this whole situation in general—also made you wonder if he was drunk.
“I meant that it’s cold outside,” you said. “Wouldn’t it be warmer to—”
“I can—it’s not that bad,” he ended up saying after quickly surmising that his offer to warm you might lead to you throwing that same pebble right at his forehead. “Please?”
You were well aware that this could go on for a while, and it probably wouldn’t be long before your Romeo-and-Juliet-esque conversation attracted the attention of the hotel staff, who would politely ask you to find a different accommodation. The manager already didn’t seem especially pleased when he found out that a rock band would be staying at his hotel.
“Alright. I’m coming down,” you said. “Put the rocks back where you found them.”
He snickered and watched you close the window, disappearing inside of your room.
By the time he returned the remaining pebbles back to the garden, the sky was already beginning to paint itself red. The clouds obscured the rising sun, but Jungkook turned his head just in time to see you walk through the hotel door, and he felt like it was the middle of the day already.
“What’s going on?” you asked, a little concerned about the size of the grin on his face.
“My grandma called me,” he said. “She’s having a good day. She remembered me.”
“Oh, my God!” you gasped. All of your irritation about leaving your warm hotel room at this hour vanished in an instant. “That’s great news! Did you talk to her?”
“Yeah!” He nodded, nearly laughing in pure, beautiful euphoria. “The whole call, she was okay. Even scolded me for breaking the glass on her favourite picture frame when I came to say goodbye to her on the last night before the tour.”
You laughed, infected with his bright mood. “Jungkook, that’s—that’s fantastic. I’m so—”
Instinctively, he pulled you to him by wrapping his arms around your waist. For just a moment, he tightened his embrace and lifted you up slightly, laughing breathlessly when you gasped in surprise.
“I know,” he murmured into your neck as he lowered you to the ground. “I still can’t believe she really called.”
He held you close to him with one hand around your waist, and another one on the back of your neck—and you were stunned for a split-second. Then finally, muscle memory roused you, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, resting the side of your head against his.
“I’m—I’m so happy to hear that,” you whispered, feeling his breath on your shoulder and the goosebumps that rose on your skin as a result.
“I am, too.” He slowly pulled his head back to look at you, and the sight of the smile on his face was enough to pierce your heart with something that you could never remove. “You’re the first person I wanted to tell this to.”
Wordlessly, you pulled him back into a hug. You could feel the stretch of his cheeks against yours as his smile widened, and you realised you’d never want to run away from this. You’d always want to stay.
You were going to stay.
No. That wasn’t right.
You wouldn’t just stay with Rated Riot, determined to destroy every ounce of your fear for him. You’d have mopped up whole oceans for him. Captured shooting stars and stuffed them into jars. Flooded the entire world with an endless sea.
You’d have done anything to have him here like this: smiling so much that he could barely speak while his chest thud-thud-thudded against yours.
You felt so much of it—this vast love that refused to die no matter how much it was beaten—that you didn’t know what to do with it all.
A minute later, you pulled back slightly—a little dizzy from the intense whirlwinds inside your chest.
“T-thank you,” you stammered. “For telling me. I’m really—I’m so happy for you.”
His hands lingered on your waist, extending the moment to the very end.
“Thank you,” he replied, taking a reluctant step back. “She, um—she asked me to say hi to you. You know, from her.”
You were surprised that she remembered you—and brought you up!—and your smile returned, encouraged by the bashful look in his eyes when he said this.
“Give her my best the next time you talk to her,” you said.
“I will.” He nodded eagerly, then slowed down. “Although, I, uh—well—I don’t know when that’ll be.”
“That’s okay,” you replied quickly, not wanting to lose the lightness of the moment so soon. “The important thing is that she’s having a good day today. And she called you!”
You raised your voice at the end of the sentence, and it was enough to rekindle his excitement.
“She did!” he sang. “She said I was her favourite grandson, by the way. So I was right.”
“Oh—hmm.” You remembered pretending to argue with him about this in Stockholm and couldn’t help yourself. “Well, alright. I guess that makes sense. Remember that stray orange cat that she used to feed every night? Reginald?”
“Reggie,” he said, grinning. The cat was one of the first things his grandmother mentioned when she called tonight; it had stopped coming to see her, but continued to take up a large place in her heart. “What’s he got to do with this?”
“Well, I mean, she loved him so much, even though he scratched her every time she got too close,” you explained. “Clearly, she always had a soft spot for troublemakers.”
“Okay, now,”—he clicked his tongue—“my grandma did actually love that cat a lot, so I’ll take that as a compliment.”
You snickered and he laughed, too, and for a moment, he thought his chest might have exploded if he felt any happier than he did right now.
Then he noticed you clutching your robe closer to your body. Whatever you’d worn underneath wasn’t enough to keep you warm now that the initial excitement slowly began to fade.
“Do you, uh… want to go back inside?” he asked, gesturing at the exposed skin of your wrists. “You’re shivering.”
You looked down at your hands. “I’m okay. But maybe we could sit?”
You turned to look around. There was a bench right at the edge of the garden, next to a bronze-coloured flowerpot that was placed in the pebbles Jungkook had used to “get your attention”.
“Yeah,” he agreed.
You shivered all over again when he sat down next to you, and the bench turned out to be smaller than it had appeared. You could feel every bounce of his restless legs.
“So,” you said, “what did you two talk about?”
He brightened at your question, and suddenly, you didn’t think he was anywhere near close enough.
“Oh, so many things,” he said. “She told me she’d like to see us perform. Can we make that happen when we go back?”
“Absolutely,” you promised.
“Yeah?” His smile widened and his bouncing increased. “She’ll probably hate it. Mosh pits aren’t her thing.”
“We’ll put her in the balcony seats,” you suggested. This conversation felt so ordinary that it was hard to imagine you could be talking to him about anything else. “She’ll love every second of watching you on stage.”
“She said she saw pictures from the tour,” he added, giddy. “My cousins showed her Maggie’s Instagram profile.”
“Did she see your pirate cosplay?”
Jungkook displayed a remarkable resilience to the pirate jokes after that first concert—you and Jimin suspected that the response from the audience played a big part in his newfound immunity—and he chuckled at it now.
“She did,” he said. “She said I reminded her of Kurt Russell in Escape from New York.”
You pulled back a little to get a better look at him, even though he no longer needed to wear the eye patch. Most of the discolouration around his eye had already faded and you’d managed to cover up the scratches with a few smaller, skin-coloured adhesive pads.
“Well, shit,” you said. “Maybe I do kind of see the resemblance. You’ve got the hair.”
“I don’t know who that is,” he admitted.
You widened your eyes. “Jungkook. You don’t know Snake Plissken?”
“No, but my grandma said all her friends had a crush on him after the film came out,” he said. “Except for my grandma, of course. She insists she only ever had eyes for my grandpa.”
You both chuckled at this with a childlike glee—the thought of a love that spanned decades felt exhilarating and very possible as the sky awakened above you.
“My mum liked Kurt Russell, too, after the film,” you said. “And she was nine at the time. She snuck into the theatre with her brother and his friends.”
Jungkook inclined his head thoughtfully. “Maybe that guy’s not so bad, then.”
“He’s a classic,” you corrected. “But your taste in films isn’t.”
“That’s actually exactly what my grandma said,” he remembered. “She told me not to come home until I watched it.”
You could hear his grandmother saying this exact thing to him and felt yourself smile again.
“I think you’d love it if you watched it,” you said. “So, it’s not much of a threat.”
“Really?” He looked at you, but only for a fraction of a moment. “Would you—I mean, it’d be cool if we could—”
You knew what he was asking. And your response—like most of everything else tonight—came as a reflex. “I’m sure we can rent it on Amazon.”
“Okay,” he said, his shoulders slumping against yours in visible relief. “That—I’d like that.”
Unwelcome, the raw breeze of the late hour caught up with you, and you felt your body shudder involuntarily once more. Determined to ignore the chill, you opened your mouth to continue the conversation, but Jungkook suddenly leaned forwards.
“Here,” he said, slipping out of his dark flannel. “Put this on. It’s not much, but—”
“No, no—” you tried, but he drew closer to drape the flannel over your shoulders. “You’ll catch a cold.”
“I’ll be fine,” he insisted, pulling back. To further reduce the significance of the gesture, he added, “it’s what friends do. And I’m warm anyway.”
You clutched the collar of the flannel tighter to prevent it from sliding off. Or just to have something to do with your hands. “Well—thanks, friend.”
A powerful waft of his cologne permeated your senses, and you closed your eyes, preserving the refreshing blend of woody and citrus notes that already took up a significant amount of space in your memory.
Every time you inhaled, his scent mixed with a different moment from your life—and it all flooded your mind in an unstoppable sequence.
Meeting Jungkook—
Kissing him for the first time on that rainy night in the park—
Hugging him hello every morning before class—
Borrowing his clothes when you stayed at his dorm—
Losing your mind when you found yourself alone and his scent returned to you, uninvited.
Jungkook appeared to be sharing your memories in real time as he inhaled sharply and tapped his fingers against his shaky thighs.
“Friends,” he said, swallowing, “probably don’t kiss each other.”
His words ignited a fire in the pit of your stomach without any matches.
You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. “Yeah, uh—t-they probably don’t.”
“Hmm. Right.”
“As your friend,” you said, sitting up straighter and letting his flannel settle around your shoulders while you lowered your hands to the wooden bench underneath you, “I’m pointing out that you’re on a high because your grandma called. That’s why you’re thinking about—”
“I’m on a high because I’m with you,” he stated. “My friend.”
The fire inside you spread rapidly, wildly, uncontrollably.
The way you were starting to lose feeling in your fingers from gripping the bench so tightly, yet you refused to let go of it, should have probably been studied scientifically.
“Well, then,” you said, “let’s look at it this way: have you ever kissed friends before? Sid maybe?”
Jungkook snorted. “God forbid.”
“Minjun, then?”
“No,” he said. “Do you think I should?”
You snickered. “No. But if we’re friends, too, then we probably shouldn’t do that, either.”
He looked at you, his lips puckered in thought. Unconsciously, you had started to scrape at the dark paint of the bench.
You hadn’t meant a word of what you’d said. He suspected as much.
“Probably not,” he agreed. “But we’re such a mess, though, right?”
The echo of your own words on the plane brought a smile to your face again—a reaction more rooted in easing the sudden surge of anticipation rather than genuine amusement.
“Yeah,” you said quietly. “We’re such a mess.”
Jungkook felt a little afraid, which was something that he always felt when the world around him blurred, and he found himself incapable of looking away from your lips.
It was dangerous, this tunnel vision. This singular focus. This impossible, magnetic pull that defied all reason, that made the whole universe tremble with a silent—
He leaned closer.
For a fleeting moment, the space between you was filled with nothing but your echoing heartbeats and silent memories.
For a fleeting moment, time itself held its breath.
You remembered Oslo and the way Jungkook had pulled away. You remembered how worried you were, how horrified—he was drunk, and he’d pulled away. He’d done the rational thing.
Funny thing, rationality.
You thought you were perfectly rational when you closed the remaining distance and your lips brushed against his—hesitant, uncertain, tender. A permission, a question, and his unequivocal death, all in one.
Jungkook inhaled—as if checking if he was alive or just pretending to be—and reached up to touch your cheek. He pulled you closer and stole the remnants of your breath with his kiss.
It was fair, he thought. You had stolen his entire soul.
The touch of your lips lasted for less than a minute—not nearly enough time for the trees around you to exhale in clandestine relief—but the softness of his mouth, the slow, intoxicating smacking of your lips against his, and the faint notes of mint on his tongue did irreparable damage to your pulse.
He stole that too, he supposed, because when he pulled away, his heart seemed to beat with enough strength to support the lives of half the population.
“Do friends discuss what it means if they kiss?” he asked, winded. His chest touched yours every time it rose in an attempt to recover.
Your laughter was breathless, too. “I’m thinking no.”
“I like what you’re thinking.”
Something very tranquil and very happy was inscribed into the contours of your features.
Soft red feathers spread across the sky above you as the city slowly stirred awake.
For the first time in a long time, everything felt like it was supposed to.
“I have a free day tomorrow,” you said. “Well, today.”
Jungkook was a bit puzzled by the shift in conversation but went along with it nonetheless. “Yeah?”
“Mhmm. The girls and I made plans, but I’m, uh—I’m going to call my mum before I go. I set an alarm for it and everything,” you said with a self-conscious chuckle. “I’m going to talk to her.”
“Oh.” He was shaking a little, he realised. He hoped you wouldn’t notice it and decide to give him his flannel back. “Well, that—that’s good. You should do that.”
You nodded, lowering your gaze to the grass and the pebbles below. “Yeah.”
“I’m going to kiss you again,” he decided. “For good luck.”
Your surprised smile overshadowed everything else he wanted to tell you.
“Oh,” you said. “Is that what friends do?”
“Yes,” he replied. “You didn’t know? It can’t be just one kiss, that’s bad luck.”
“Actually, I heard even numbers are bad luck.”
He gasped theatrically. “Oh, but that’s terrible! I’ll have to kiss you three times, then. To be safe.”
You smiled and shook your head. He died a little then, because everything was here, just like in his worst nightmares and his favourite daydreams: your scent, your eyes, your smile. All of you.
“You’re always such an idiot,” you said with so much affection that the wind crept away miserably, defeated by the warmth in Jungkook’s gaze when he looked at you. When he felt your hand on the side of his face—gentle and careful so as not to touch the healing bruises on his cheek.
“Hmm.” He wasn’t sure if he’d ever remember how to breathe again. “You said you love me, though.”
“I do,” you said, beaming, as you ran the tips of your fingers over the edges of his wolf cut. “It’s a burden I have to live with.”
He shivered from your touch and leaned in—impatient, all of a sudden. His lips met yours with a soft, rehearsed touch, and he thought he died all over again when you pulled him closer.
Your heart brought back the memories of sensations that you’ve tried to bury; it revived them and set them loose in your chest when you kissed him back and felt the smile on his lips.
Your heart threatened to quit it, to burst into flames and take you down with it when you felt his tongue slowly glide over your lower lip.
Your heart settled right against his when you parted your lips. When you felt his warm breath mingle with yours. When you held onto him with everything you were feeling, and he held onto you.
He kissed you in every way that a friend wasn’t supposed to, and groaned softly when he touched the back of your neck and felt the relentless roughness of goosebumps under his fingertips. Your body reflected everything he was feeling.
Every time your lips met—gentle and feverish—every time he pulled you closer—frantic and heated—every time you inhaled when he exhaled—sharp and eager—you were setting fire to something that once was and building something new in its place.
There seemed to be small fragments of a foreign nature inside of you both—fragments that had danced with each other long before your first kiss and would continue the lively, eternal swaying for years and years after your last.
Maybe it was dust from two neighbouring stars, drawn together by a force stronger than them, but forced to crash somewhere on earth and settle and quiver and wake up inside of you both.
Or maybe it was something less grand. Maybe it was just luck. Just coincidence.
“See,” you whispered, pulling back. “I told you we don’t know how to be friends.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” he replied, kissing the corner of your lips. The sparks inside him were fierce and relentless when you smiled in response. “I think friends can decide what sort of friends they want to be.”
“What sort of friends are we going to be, then?”
“This sort.”
You could see the northern lights and the tails of comets in his eyes before he leaned in to kiss you again. You could taste the longing for the Milky Way and the whispers of timeless meteors on his tongue.
And it all solidified this for you: the two of you were not luck and not coincidence.
You were something much more.
Tumblr media
chapter title credits: bring me the horizon, “follow you”
Tumblr media
prev ○ next
461 notes · View notes
pixieknj · 1 year
Text
🃏‧₊˚checkmate | JHS (18+)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
❀one-shot❀
❥pairing: rockstar!hoseok X backup-dancer!reader // black!reader
❥genre: rockstar AU, angst, smut, some fluff
❥summary: Just some love confessions and hot, steamy s*x in the rain after a concert…
.⋆。⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆。⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆。⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆。⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆。⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆。⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆ .⋆༶⋆˙❀
❥!!warnings!!: slightly rough sex + dirty talk
❥other warnings: semi-public sex, parking garage sex on the hood of a car [sorry not sorry, I am clearly a wh0re for car sex💗], raw sex in the rain [please use protection!], oral [fem & male receiving], face f^cking, creampie, backshots, small daddy kink, some arguing in the dialogue, hoseok feeling himself and having wild concerts, making out, cl¡t piercing, curvy d¡ck, comparing hoseok’s d¡ck to a jack-in-the-box [i love my mind so much😭], some POV switching, they don’t actually say the three big words
❥word count: 4.7k
-song inspo: pandora’s box- jhope [ugh I love how he did the background verse with his grungey voice, this mf is so fucking fineee fuck😭] || say it- tory [ew, but I’ve been listening to this for so long]
-inspo also from the fact that his hobipalooza performance gave me big d¡ck with a curve energy! the curve is important, idc idc!
-author’s note: Ik this is kinda late but I hope it’s worth it and that you enjoy!! 🤍 Didn’t know how else to end it without dragging it so yeah. This is dedicated to @maltate123 who messaged me about their excitement to read this 🥹💗
———————————୨♥︎୧———————————
Even after an hour-long concert filled with breathtaking rapping and dancing, Hoseok was still pumped after the show, only breathless now because he was too busy sticking his sinister tongue down your throat and rubbing his chrome-painted fingers too far up your skirt.
His other hand sat veiny and heavy like a choker on your neck as he kissed you, tilting your head just right for your lips to fit to his heart-shaped ones, holding you in place on top of the hood of his cherry red Ferrari Portofino.
You knew what he meant when he proposed you to come chill with him instead of heading to the hotel right away, but you weren’t betting on the rockstar to cockily confront you about your little stunt on stage.
It was an accident, you promised yourself.
Right…
Letting Hoseok run his fingers over your exposed torso as you swayed in front of him was an accident.
Letting your hips glue too close together was an accident, along with letting Hoseok guide you on him.
Grinding on the rockstar… was a complete accident.
It wasn’t like anyone could see from the different angles on the big screens that your bare ass was circling all up on his dick print. Right?
And you swore that no one caught Hoseok sticking his tongue out and grinding with you back. So therefore, it didn’t happen.
Yeah. No.
It did. Only half an hour ago. In front of 100k people.
And it had Hoseok blemishing up the side of your neck with bite marks, his thumb idly caressing your inner thigh.
After the days and days of practicing one of his unreleased songs, “Checkmate”, a track that included Hoseok’s grungey rap and silk vocals explaining how to play one’s pieces right when it came to love, the accumulated sexual tension couldn’t make it past the concert. Not with the way he was feeling the vulgar lyrics and your sexy dancing tonight on that stage.
You looked too good in your matching outfit for the segment—sporting a mesh halter top and a black, cargo mini skirt with a rhinestoned belt. Your combat boots added to the fit, and the silver accessories and glitter on your brown skin completed it. Visually appearing as the female personification of J-Hope was on point for “Checkmate”, just like his decision in choosing you to lead dance with him.
So he was over the moon on how amazing you were, not being able to suppress it any longer to make it to the safety of the hotel. The top floor of the parking garage was empty, as it was VIP access only, but the bustling of fans and cars on the street down below reminded you that you were both out in the open. Fortunately, the thunder cackling in the gray, night sky above was hiding the hushed moans and wet kisses enough to not care.
“Jay…” You sighed as he brushed the fluffed kinks and curls of your hair away so that he could nibble the skin beneath your ear. You gripped his distressed shirt, trying to turn your head away so that the blowing wind could cool down your cheeks. The muggy air wasn’t helping. You could feel how much you wanted him to split you open.
So you moved your hands underneath his shirt, skimming along the waistline of his baggy pants and luxury boxers, heading for what you really desired.
Hoseok hissed, pulling back from your neck and resting his forehead on yours as he caught his breath the same. “I thought we were going slow,” he said.
You scoffed and angled your head up. “Is bringing me up here to make-out your definition of going slow, Jay?”
He pouted his duck lips against your nose. “No… Shaking your ass on my dick isn’t going slow either.”
“You touched me first,” you argued back, recounting how he pulled you into him on the stage. “You can’t keep your hands to yourself for shit.”
The rockstar hummed. “Is that your excuse? Unprofessionalism?”
Your brow raised. “For?”
“Acting like we both didn’t say fuck it to the original choreo and dry humped on stage.”
You felt flustered all of a sudden.
“We didn’t dry hump,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around his neck.
Hoseok grinned. “Sure we didn’t, baby. Kiss me.”
You ignored his sarcastic comment but pulled him closer. Hoseok gracefully slipped his tongue back into your mouth and brought his hands down to your waist. They worked to undo the belt around your hips and push the hem of your skirt up to give him more access.
Then he finally slid his hand between your legs, fingers pressed up against your cunt, you gasping hotly against his mouth.
“W-We’re not going slow, Jay,” you whimpered.
He responded as he started kissing over your shoulder. “You don’t wanna go slow, anyways, baby.”
He was right.
Your fingers flew to the bulge in his Louis Vuitton pants. Heavy and erect, curving up in your palm through the expensive fabric. A lightning strike flashed out the corner of your eye as Hoseok groaned at the sensation.
“Want you on my tongue,” he confessed, making your heart pick up speed.
“Your manager said not to be out here for too long,” you reminded, but the rockstar hiked your legs up to roll your underwear down your thighs and over your combat boots.
You rolled your eyes as he brought the lacy pair to his face for a long inhale before chucking it like a slingshot over the railing of the parking garage. A car honked seconds later. You could imagine that your soiled underwear hit someone’s windshield.
“I think you’re supposed to keep them, dumbass.”
“Why?” he voiced, pushing your legs apart, the cool air breezing against your pussy. Your hands brushed through his growing mullet as he got on his knees on the concreted ground and propped your leg up on his shoulder. “To gag you so that you can shut your fucking mouth?”
Ohh, that’s what you wanted to hear:
The put together artist getting angry at your slick comments enough to push this celibate talking stage to the side. No more acting prude.
“No,” you answered. “So that you can rub your dick with it later. When you think about writing me those late night texts.”
He slapped the back of your thigh, and you bit your mouth shut to suppress a moan. “But you could do a much better job at it than me.”
“Mmm, a blowjob?”
He hummed back in return since he ended up latching his lips to your leg and marking the oiled, brown skin of it. The agreement of reciprocal head made you even more excited. Oral was a green light for you, and you knew the rockstar could give it good, but you wanted nothing more than to have his dick on your tongue instead.
The way it felt curved against you as you swiveled your ass on it on stage had you equally horny. Horny enough to be lenient on your own stupid rule of “taking it slow” with him.
So you leaned back on your palms on the hood of the Ferrari as you offered yourself to Hoseok. Legs spread to their widest with one on his shoulder, ass bare underneath your skirt. His kisses and thigh kneading were making you wetter by the second.
“Ready for me?” He mumbled on your skin, your arousal wafting his nose from the windy weather.
Your heart picked up another beat, and you nodded. You told him “Yes, Jay.”
His fingers made their move and touched your pussy, teasingly surpassing your clit and rubbing your soaked folds down to your entrance. A moan bubbled in the back of your throat as he fondled you slowly, your core igniting like hell for him. He got a louder noise when he slid a finger inside, only to take it away from you and say he wanted to lick you numb first.
He didn’t know how easily possible that was until he reached for your clit. “Oh,” he pulled his hand back a bit, his animated noise of shock making you curious.
“What?”
“That’s a sexy surprise,” he chuckled and yanked you closer by the back of your legs. “Your piercing. You weren’t gonna tell me?”
Your cheeks flamed. You really forget that you have it, and you never thought to bring it up. Honestly, making it this far with Hoseok wasn’t on your mind at all… Situations like these—an artist hanging around a backup dancer too much—sounded like quick flings that wouldn’t play out well in the end. Especially not with a busy person such as Hoseok. But you didn’t mention that self-conscious shit.
“You like it?” you asked.
He pulled away from your thigh just to look at your decorated pussy again. “Yeah,” he licked his lips. “It’s so cute… Wanna lick it…”
You arched your hips towards his face. “I’m not stopping you.”
Thunder crashed in the background as Hoseok pushed your leg further up and brought his pink tongue to your core. It slid between your folds at a hurried pace at first, as if you’d disappear if he didn’t take this chance to sample you quickly. The tip of his muscle slowed as it met your aching nub, his fingers gripping you tight to keep you from moving as he leisurely pressed the jewelry pierced in it side-to-side.
Hoseok alternated between sucking and licking based on how loud you were getting, purposely ignoring the rest of your pussy, only letting his grunts stimulate you in vibrations. Oh, fuck. And he was drooling all over you as he flicked your studded, brown pearl back and forth with his tongue.
“Tastes so good,” he sighed.
“I do?” you whimpered out, dragging your fingers through his curly hair for grip.
“Yeah, like honey… You’re my honey,” he nuzzled closer, his tongue flattening over your hole this time. “So sweet.”
The numbing he was summoning upon your clit from torturing it was painful, but you were so wet and enjoying the extra pinch in pleasure too much to stop him. You couldn’t help but to hold him close and grind against his mouth.
“Gonna cream daddy’s face?” he groaned. His hooked nose was bumping against the jewel in your clit now.
Oh, hell, why would he fucking say that…
“Yes,” you moaned, “—gonna cream daddy’s face.”
But you received just a few more strokes before it all ceased.
Because Hoseok had pulled away.
His grin was evil. Kinda hot, too, because your juices were all over his mouth and chin. “Did you really think I was gonna let you cum? That easily?”
You pushed his shoulders after wiping his mouth with your sleeve, but he caught himself and stood up. “Fuck off. I was getting close.”
“Not close enough,” he jeered and stuck his tongue out again, letting it loll over his bottom lip. You made a whiny noise under your breath and pulled him close by the buckle around his hips.
If he wanted to treat you that way, then okay. Two can play that game.
You slid off the Ferrari and let Hoseok take your spot. But he beat you to your next move by forcing you down on your knees on the grainy concrete. His fingers tangled in your fro as he forcefully brought your face near the tent in his jeans.
He tsked and glared down at you over his nose. “Don’t forget I’m in control here, sweet girl.”
He figured you were going to deny him of an orgasm, too.
“You never were,” you told him.
The sexy smirk was back as he lifted the hem of his baggy shirt to undo the belt and button on his jeans. Hoseok’s dick popped out the zipper, springing free like a jack-in-the-box. And did he appear so heavenly yet devilish looking down on you like that with the lightning in the sky surrounding him.
You bit your lip as you took him in your hand. Fuck. His dick was as pretty and impressive as him.
“I want all of this shit down your throat, baby,” Hoseok said, tilting your head. “Can you handle it?”
You boldly licked up the side of his cock, your eyes fluttering up to his as you grinned. “Yes, daddy.”
You think you’re louder than Hoseok when you taste him again. The veiny skin that met your palate was warm and salty from his sweaty performance. The head was softer but just as heavy and thick on your tongue. You moaned as pre-cum smeared your glossy lips, Hoseok seeming to fawn over how much you were enjoying his cock in your face.
His groan was full of yearning when you tapped it on your cheek. “Oh, don’t play with me, baby… Be nice.”
“Or what?” you whispered before taking him into your mouth. You watched his face as you swallowed him deeper, your body thrumming as he threw his head back and gave you the glorious view of his Adam’s apple bobbing dryly in his throat.
His fucked out expression came darker as he leaned his head back down to look at you with a set jaw. Maybe you should have chosen your two words more wisely... because Hoseok’s dick already in your mouth gave him the leverage to shove it further past your uvula.
He was rough as he held you there and thrusted, your nose pressed to the material of his shirt, your smokey eyeshadow and mascara beginning to run. One hand found his thigh muscle and the other held two fingers in your pussy. You could’ve came from that alone, along with Hoseok’s stuttered cussing.
But he yanked you back moments later and pulled out of your mouth. You greedily chased it, licking it again, opening your mouth wide… Your throat was dying for more.
“Didn’t take you for a cock slut, Miss Let’s-Take-Things-Slow,” Hoseok growled, snatching your hand from your cunt and lifting you up from the ground. Your knees had tiny concrete pebbles sticking painfully to them, but it didn’t compare to how badly you wanted the rockstar between them.
“We… We are taking things slow,” you said.
Hoseok pushed you towards the car, your front facing the windshield, him stepping closer into your space, his labored breath on your neck. You yelped as he forced you down to the hood and pinned you there.
“That’s your favorite word, huh? Slow.”
He pressed himself against your ass to brush your wet folds with his dick. “Is that how you want me to fuck you since that’s how we’re taking things?”
You grumbled “maybe” and took this time to circle your hips on him like you did on stage. What was all the talking for? Couldn’t he put it in and shush now?
Your ass looked delectable rubbing over his shaft, Hoseok guiding you on him again, just without the barrier of clothing. A droplet of rain hit the smooth expanse of your cheek, and Hoseok went ahead and gripped you open to take you before it started pouring.
With fingers pressed to your tailbone, he pushed inside slowly, and your tight warmth greedily sucked him in. His palm slipped to the hood of the car when he made it skin-to-skin with you, the sound of his erratic inhales on your ears. You could barely push him off with your fingertips to his stomach as you moaned, Hoseok moving your hand down to the hood and kissing the discomfort off of your tongue.
He knew he had the dirtiest curve to his cock that was already burning the heat inside of you.
“Fuck!” Your cry echoed against the concrete of the parking garage. The rockstar cussed right along with you as he held you tightly and thrusted. Your body went even more stiff at the intrusion and you gasped.
“Oh, c’mon, baby…” He smirked against your lips, his rigid torso warm on your back. “I know you can take it like this…”
It was that fucking curve that had you stepping into your tippy toes and clawing at the red paint of his luxury car with every drag of his hips. But it stung so good and deliciously scalded that you willingly bended into the arch he was coaxing.
You felt too tight and hot and wet around Hoseok that he didn’t want to be slow about this. It was obvious with how he was ramming into you fast and deep, far enough to feel it in your stomach. You started grinding back, whining at every skim his cock made against your walls and every spank he gave your ass to make it jiggle.
It didn’t matter that Mother Nature was finally beginning to weep. The dreary clouds expelled a steady drizzle that beaded on the curve in your spine and the space where you and Hoseok stood connected as he drilled into you wholeheartedly. If anything, the emergence of the thunderstorm pushed the rockstar to snap his dancer hips harder.
You gazed at him underneath your lashes and bit your lip as you caught his thrusts, Hoseok watching you take it and fuck back onto him, his fingers sliding up to grip your neck and down to rub your pierced clit.
“Gotta take you on tour with me more often,” he growled as he held your eyes. “Fly you out to dance with me on stage… then fuck you into a hotel bed. Shit—do whatever you wanna do in that city, too.”
You moaned when he angled your hips higher on his length, massaged your bundle of sensitive nerves in tighter circles. “Are you saying I could get anything I want with this ass, Jay?”
The rockstar was becoming fucked through. Pussy and ass like this could, “Yeah”, get anything that was wanted from him.
Especially when you could drown him in your essence, wiggle your hips a bit extra to get him to cum quickly behind you before you tapped out. He pulled out swiftly and came on your backside, wanting to fill you up so full but remembered he was already being irresponsible with company rules.
Hoseok greedily watched your orgasm roll down between your legs, wanting to latch his mouth back to that pierced clit of yours and get you to cum again. But the rain was starting to pelt the concrete of the parking garage. And he was supposed to be changing into non-conspicuous clothing for his departure of the festival…
He didn’t have enough time.
“I’ll see you later, yeah?” You said. Hoseok hadn’t even gotten his dick back into his pants before you were pulling your skirt down and reaching for your damp tote bag perched up on the front wheel of the Ferrari.
“________.”
It made you stop in your tracks. But you didn’t want to hear anything that would piss you off.
“Just… Let me get back to the hotel, Jay.”
“No,” he said. “Can we talk about this before you walk away and stop picking up my calls until I need you for a set?”
Ouch. Confrontation.
“What is there to talk about?”
The rockstar unbelievably shook his head at you. “You. Us. Now.”
You scoffed, equally shocked at his words. “After you got to fuck me?”
It renders him speechless for a second as the rain falls quicker. Exactly… Why would he want to talk seriousness right after you became a liability? There was no us, not even with the long FaceTime calls and practice room conversations. Did he think you were going to kiss and tell the world?
The thought of having this fling kept a secret wasn’t an issue to you. He just shouldn’t act so caring of it now when before it was harmless fun.
So you started walking away again, but Hoseok didn’t let you get far. He chased after you, reeling you back by the hold on your arm. “Don’t take it that way. I’ve been struggling to talk to you before this.”
“It’s raining,” you tried to excuse yourself. “We can talk later.”
Hoseok pressed you up against the passenger door of the Ferrari and held you hostage by his hips. You were going to listen one way or another. “We can talk now.”
You dropped your tote bag back down and glared up at him, accepting that you had no choice but to drench in the rain and hear him out. “Fine, Jay.”
He sighed. “Look… I want to be with you outside of the studio and concerts and do all that shit, you know that. But, I’m busy. There hasn’t been any other time to talk about us, so I’m taking it here. You don’t make it any easier by ignoring my calls and only hitting me up to congratulate me on shit I don’t care about.”
You blinked through the raindrops clouding your lashes, ready to counter. “Because I don’t know what you want me to be. A groupie? A friends with benefits? A friend? Your signals are just as mixed. And all of a sudden you wanna clarify it?”
“Yeah, I do want to fucking clarify it,” he gritted his teeth. “This isn’t so I can have my cake and eat it, too. Not how you think. I try, really… But I can’t be in two places at once. I can’t be present for my fans and my music and you the same.”
“I’m not asking you to,” you said.
“No, but that’s the only way you’ll believe the shit coming out of my mouth,” he responded.
You exhaled the breath you didn’t know you had been holding. How had you avoided the elephant in the room for this long to no avail. He could see through your avoidance and passiveness the whole time, and it made you feel exposed. Anxious, despite his words.
“This is useless, Jay.”
The rockstar leaned in closer, his saturated hair beginning to drip down his face. “What makes it useless, ________? I’m being open with you about—this. Do I look like I’m joking or something?”
“No,” you responded. “It’s useless that you’re telling me why and why not. When it isn’t going to change anything. You’re busy and have bigger things to tend to… What is your point?”
Hoseok’s eyes went soft as he answered. “The point is that I’m trying. I’m trying, okay? I’m trying to spend time with you even if it’s over the phone. I’m trying to bring you with me on every leg of this tour. I’m trying—to keep you as near to me as I can without the media or the company in our damn business.”
You watched him, not knowing how to accept his confessions of effort towards whatever you both had going on. You didn’t want to admit that you were partly to blame for his failed attempts, because then you would have to face your humility and it’s effect on your perspective of yourself in Hoseok’s life.
Your deafening silence amongst the storm made him continue.
“Listen to me,” he mumbled, gazing at you. “I really want this. And you. When I’m done touring, I’ll show you.”
You wanted to believe him. But who were you fooling? When did he get real breaks from work? When was he ever not in the studio or on a promotional schedule? He was always busy… even resting up was a scheduled event. You wouldn’t have him for yourself. You weren’t needy, but it didn’t sound realistic in the slightest. You’d only have time for sex, like just then.
You spoke. “Jay, you don’t have to do that. Let’s leave it alone.”
“Us?” He asked, sighing and pressing your wet foreheads together. He didn’t want you to give up.
You nodded. “I was fine with going slow… It doesn’t complicate this.”
“We already complicated it by sneaking around. You want me to act like this didn’t happen?” He questioned. “With all the chemistry we have in the practice room? On stage? We tried to keep it professional. It didn’t stop us from getting here.
“You… don’t have to fight us on this. I’ll take care of it if shit hits the fan. Trust me.”
Hoseok made your heart beat so viscously that your throat burn, so dry that you couldn’t reject his devotion. He was indeed trying. He was being honest and holding out on you. You never doubted him, but you doubted together. Hearing that he didn’t, hurt.
It stung that you pushed him away. You didn’t want to deal with foolish feelings when the rockstar was so much bigger than this fling. You couldn’t blame yourself for stepping back and wanting to protect your peace and heart… But Hoseok had constantly given you his in the few ways you allowed him.
He didn’t view you how you viewed yourself—a moveable piece on his sets for decorative fun—and it ached your mind that you’d been lying to yourself the whole time. He didn’t deserve his passion to be twisted around by your own fragility. He deserved…
“Okay. I… I trust you.”
Your trust. All of it.
No one knew how long Hoseok had been waiting on you to say it, to give that to him. Except you, deep down. But it’s scary, right? What did he really owe back for that trust? He could throw you to the side whenever someone else he clicked with came around. Who were you to him but a badass dance partner or back-up dancer?
“My love,” he whispered shakily. He was still nose-to-nose, hip-to-hip with you. “Say it again.”
You nudged your nose with his as you met his eyes, swallowing your insecurities and doubt.
“I trust you, Jay.”
It seemed that he took a moment to process your words as the meaning flowed through the blood pumping behind his chest. You were putting your faith into him. After dodging this for months and trying to ward off the inevitable.
He had finally gotten you where you needed to be by playing his cards right, his words, his actions. He was going to hold onto that for as long as he could.
It made him grin that you said it aloud. Just for him. Even the thunderstorm wouldn’t let anyone else hear it.
The rockstar rubbed his nose against yours before tilting his head and tilting your chin to kiss you. There was no rush or lust in the way he brushed his mouth with yours. It was romantic, really. The soft sounds of kissing and groaning amidst the raging rain, suffocatingly breathing each other’s unspoken yet understood love in.
Hoseok pulled away briefly to gaze up at the sky, and you looked, too, the raindrops spiraling as they came down and plopped onto his cheeks. He was having a moment—no doubt the rainy night you first met with him privately after practice. Only now, he didn’t have an umbrella to offer to shield your cloud of hair, just the comfort of his quivering lips and his hands encircling your waist.
“One more time,” he said. “I can’t see you alone again until the next stop.”
“Jay—“ You tried to reason with him and how late you both would be getting back, but he was kissing down your neck and reaching for your leg to hoist on his hip. He pressed the excitement in his pants against your bare pussy, and you couldn’t stop yourself from begging him to pull it out.
Hoseok gave you another mind-blowing orgasm with his slower strokes, fingers pinching your pierced clit, and his teeth on your neck as he fucked you, trying to hold you up on his waist while his hand kept slipping on the wet roof of the car. Your orgasms came quicker, but it felt too fucking good to think about consequences in the middle of it.
“Ah, shiiittt,” Hoseok groaned, jaw clenching, rain droplets dripping off his curly hair and onto your face. You hadn’t noticed what was happening until you felt your and his pressure… Yet, you took it, eyes squeezing shut and your nails peeling the skin of his biceps.
The rockstar had lost it for a second. Foolishly risking a pregnancy and his whole career over a nut.
“You’re gonna trap me, honey girl,” he mumbled, his decision immediately irking him. But he honestly wouldn’t mind being trapped by you.
“I’m not like that, Jay,” you sighed out, sucking on the rain on the plump of his lips. “Trust me.”
Hoseok grinned the prettiest smile.
That smile was yours now.
.⋆。⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆。⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆。⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆。⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆。⋆༶⋆˙❀༺⋆。⋆༶⋆˙ .⋆ .⋆༶⋆˙❀
705 notes · View notes
koovlogs · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
381 notes · View notes
alphabetboyluvr · 7 months
Text
HUSH | MYG - SERIES MASTERLIST
Tumblr media
pairing: rockstar!yoongi x female reader | mutual disdain - lovers (but also strangers - lovers? kinda?)
Tumblr media
Welcome to Hush. We're the dating app that brings it all back; Y2K style. Forget catfishes, filters, and facetune - It's all about 'ASL?', character limits, and screaming into your pillow at 4am, after finaaaaally sending that goodnight text to your crush. Hush is the place to share your secrets. You're anonymous until you choose not to be - so what are you waiting for?! Go forth and multiply, Hush hottie! And by multiply, we mean your Hush crushes, of course! Hush users that match your preferences will automatically be added to your very own Secret Circle. We do the hard work for you (you're welcome), but it's up to you to turn your Hush crush into a secret worth keeping. Our lips are sealed, so yours don't have to be.
genre / tropes: okay, where to start with this one lmao, sexting! and i mean... a lot of sexting (so much sexting oc will probably get early-onset arthritis in her thumbs), yoongi is a dick, he also hates nepotism, and in turn, you. oh yeah, you're jin's sister, you work with the band on tour. jin, yoongi, tae, jk and joon are in The Scouts aka the hottest band since sliced bread. jimin is their tour manager, hobi works up in the head office (he's sleazy and i love him). slight love triangle, one-near-footjob (and counting!), eventual smut, a little angst, dating app that is exclusively for celebrities / people in the public eye, one incredibly inconvenient pairing, yoongi calls the oc clementine / clemmie and it's cuter than it sounds, idk how else to explain this, mistaken identity i guess? although not really? look, just read it lol. smut warnings will be on chapters individually!!
wordcount: x (will be somewhere between 80-120k)
soundtrack: x
start date: 2023.08.31 (originally posted early 2022)
minors dni // originally posted to wattpad
Tumblr media
NOTE FROM HOLLY // hush is uploaded to wattpad in shorter chapters that i then combine for updates on tumblr (as are most of my fics!!)
Tumblr media
CONTEXT // pls read these before the story
THE SCOUTS - meet the band HUSH - meet the app
Tumblr media
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
Tumblr media
234 notes · View notes
httpknjoon · 9 months
Text
spotted | jjk
Tumblr media
plot | This is how it started for the princess and the rockstar.
words | 3.8k
genres | fluff, modern royalty!au, celebrity!au
pairing | rockstar!jungkook x princess!reader
note | hi!! this is my first entry for this series and I'm so excited to write more about this pair in the future. let me know your thoughts! enjoy reading :)
main masterlist | drabble series
Tumblr media
Royal Sisters, Princesses YN and Astrid Spotted Dancing at Sweet September’s Concert
On Friday night, the princesses were snapped watching the rock band at Crystalline Stadium.
Following the closing of the Royal Games earlier that day, Princesses YN, 25, and Astrid, 19, were spotted attending another big event in the country: Sweet September’s first Denim Jungle stop.
Fans of the rock band were stunned to see the two royalties in the said concert. Although the two sat in secluded seats in the stadium, they still attracted attention. Some concertgoers managed to capture pictures and short clips of the royalties enjoying the band’s performance– mostly Princess Astrid.
The usual contrast between the royal sisters is evident during their presence. Princess Astrid sported a rock-themed outfit with her oversized black leather jacket, red graphic tank top, flare jeans, and platform boots. On the other hand, Princess YN stayed true to her classy fashion style, wearing a black and white-collared Prada dress and knee-high boots. Both princesses wore black sunglasses during the whole event. The youngest sang and danced along to Sweet September’s tracks while the crown princess just nods her head to the beat. 
Worry not! Princess Astrid made Princess YN jump and dance along with her during the band’s performance of their hit song, My Fair Lady.
Tumblr media
“You two will have your own entrance and exit spots. Ronnie and Ben would accompany you two to the entrance and would meet you at the same gate after the concert.”
Your father’s trusty courtier, Eddie, guided you and your sister with what you’re supposed to do. There were rules you have to remember. Especially since Astrid practically begged your parents to not have bodyguards with her in this event. Your father only agreed to let her come if you come too, knowing that you rarely go out outside of your royal duties. But since you love your sister, you agreed to go even though you don’t really listen to Astrid’s types of music.
After the closing of Zafiro’s Royal Games earlier this day, your parents left for a conference in Scotland. That reason made you in charge of your younger sister. But since you two don’t really live in a simple household, you are still looked after by your Royal Staff for your safety.
“Is that all, Uncle?”
Astrid already had her arms crossed as she asked that. It’s been fifteen minutes since your car arrived in front of this secret entrance to the concert. But because of the King’s instructions, you and your sister are now itching in your seats to go.
Eddie smiled, noticing your sister’s tone, “I know you are excited about this concert, Your Royal Highness. But His Majesty still has one last message… and this is a very important one so listen.”
Your sister is ready to let out an exaggerated sigh. You are ready to calm down her rising shoulders. But Eddie continued,
“Please remind my lovely girls to enjoy the night amidst my tiring instructions. Take pictures and sing along. I would love to hear stories from them about this very important concert– based on what my Astrid said– when I and my queen get back from our short trip to Scotland. Follow what your Uncle Eddie says.”
A small smile formed on your lips with that. Finally, Eddie lets you two go with your bodyguards until the gate. Then, Gerald, a nice concert staff, welcomed you into the venue and led you and your sister to your seats.
“Oh, my god. I cannot believe Papa let us come here alone.” your sister said as she slipped the Xyloband into her wrist.
“I know…” your voice trailed off when you heard the people singing along to the song playing not too far away. You turned to the staff, “Excuse me, is the concert starting already?”
“No, Ma’am. We’re just playing the band’s music videos before they perform on stage. But they will be performing in a few minutes.”
You nodded with that. You went to concerts before, but not like this one. You liked jazz and classical music and would always try to go to concerts whenever you can. Those concerts are very much different than this band’s.
“These are your seats, Your Royal Highnesses,” Gerald spoke.
“Thank you so much.” you and Astrid said as you walked to the two empty seats.
With that, the staff left you. The seats are not that close or far from the main stage and it’s in the center. For safety purposes, your father and the security team agreed to not put you two in the floor spots where you can see the band better. Still, Astrid finds these spots great.
You assumed your father pulled some strings to make this possible since you heard from Astrid that the tickets were sold out as soon as it’s started selling. It made you wonder what’s good in Sweet September. You probably heard about them before, mainly because Astrid’s a rock-music enthusiast, but you don’t really know anything about them. Except that they recently worked with UNICEF for a campaign focused on cyberbullying. But you know nothing about their music.
“Oh, look at that! Look at those signs!”
Your sister was laughing while she points her finger somewhere. Your eyes followed where she was pointing.
DEAR CARTER, I’M A DRUMMER TOO. LET ME ROCK YOU! ;)
I SOLD MY CAR FOR THIS
MARRY ME MINGYU
HAIL KING WOOSUNG
CAN Y’ALL BE MY VALENTINE <3
Among those aggressive signs, there is one that made your eyes stretch wide and look away.
JUNGKOOK LET ME PUT OIL ON YOUR ABS
What was that supposed to mean? You wanted to ask Astrid but she was already talking to another fan who’s seating beside her. The said fan seemed surprised and delighted at the same time when she locked eyes with you for a second. You just smiled. As a highly-regarded crown princess, you know that they least expect you to show up in a rock concert next to them.
You then turned to your other side, where you immediately locked eyes with a lady who seemed a bit older than you. She instantly looked away and slowly looked back after a few seconds. She probably thought you were not looking at her anymore. But you are. And you can tell who she is by her awkward aura and stiff movements.
Part of showing respect to royalties, the public cannot talk to you until you speak with them first. So you decided to say something directly.
“Did the King hire you?” you asked her in a small whisper.
You don’t Astrid to hear it. You want her to focus on the fact that she is free from your parents’ overprotectiveness tonight. You can see the hesitation on her face but you can already tell that she is a secret security Eddie hired.
“It’s fine. I understand.” you gave her a reassuring smile. “Please, enjoy the concert too.”
The woman nods and bows subtly. You turned away. Astrid already has new friends. Between you two, she definitely is the friendlier one. It’s not like you are hostile. But she is just more carefree than you. Ever since you were a kid, you already followed the rules by the book. You know that you are in line for the throne and you need to be rightful for it. So you always try to be professional in your duties. You studied and work for your country.
“It’s a surprise to see you in here, Your Royal Highness.” one of Astrid’s new friends said.
“Please, just call me Astrid or you can add that princess title if you’re uncomfortable with calling me by name.” she quipped and they laughed. “Actually, the King only let me come here when Princess YN agreed to accompany me.”
Her friends’ mouths all formed into a small o. You waved at them, and they bow their heads. Suddenly, the lights slowly dimmed down and everyone began screaming– including Astrid. To say that your sister is excited was an understatement. It’s like she slept with a hanger in her mouth with how wide she’s smiling. Your cheeks hurt for her. But you’re happy to see her happy.
Taps on the microphone can be heard before someone cleared their throat, building up everyone’s excitement. You stood there, just listening to them and observing.
“Everyone, welcome to the denim jungle!”
Someone began playing a good riff on a bass guitar. The band’s silhouette is recognizable on stage. In the first beat of the drum, the lights snapped open. There, your eyes directly spotted the lead vocalist.
Tumblr media
Droplets of sweat made his skin feel gluey as he ran his hand through his damp dark hair. His plain form-fitting white top is almost useless with how it almost got transparent with his body. His chest heaves as he removes his earpiece.
“Great show tonight, boys!”
A staff greeted them on their way down from the stage. After almost three hours of singing, playing with instruments, and interacting with the audience, Jungkook can finally feel relief in his body. With his throat feeling a little sore earlier, he was careful with it throughout the whole concert.
“Okay, let’s take a picture first!” a staff declared.
Jungkook, Carter, Mingyu, and Woosung lined up and posed for a couple of pictures that their staff would post later. After that, the four talked about their performance as they cool off.
“My earpiece is a mess.” Woosung shared. “I cannot hear the drums well. I think it stopped working for a few seconds during Blue Skies.”
“Okay, we have extra of those. You can test your new one in your next rehearsals.” Tara, their manager, responded.
The others shared their thoughts for tonight. Jungkook just listened for the sake of his throat. When he felt it getting strained, he cleared his throat and reached for a bottle of water.
“How are you feeling now?” Mingyu tapped his shoulder.
“The same,” he answered shortly. “It didn’t feel better or worse than earlier.”
“Well, let’s go back to the hotel to let our Jungkook rest,” Carter replied.
The others agreed before standing up from the soft couch. Jungkook is already heading straight to their dressing room when Tara spoke.
“By the way, you had very special guests tonight. It made tonight’s tag trend worldwide on Twitter.”
Being trending is not new with the group. Ever since they started the tour a month ago, they have been on various social media trend lists every other day. They also had bid celebrities and personalities as part of the audience before.
“Who? The king?” Mingyu joked, making the others chuckle.
Tara clicked her tongue, “Eh, close. It’s his daughters, the royal princesses.”
The boys stopped in their tracks. Even Jungkook froze. He did not even notice his members simultaneously turning their heads in his direction. As if they were waiting for him to say something. Instead, it was Tara who spoke again.
“Maybe we can meet them.”
Tumblr media
All while the concert was happening, a fan who was also present in the event posted a stolen picture of you and Astrid. It led to your name and Astrid’s trending. Fans were excited to see royalties in such an event.
@/rockjeykey: no one told me princess astrid is a fan
@/denimparty: SOMEONE TELL JUNGKOOK ABOUT THIS
@/CRAYONNO7: YOOOOO i was just a few seats next to them! THEY ARE SO NICE AND FUN I HAD SMALL TALKS WITH THEM PRINCESS YN SAID SHE LIKES MY BAND SHIRT
Replying to @/CRAYONNO7
- @/eunwoobass: ur so lucky!!!
@/ASTRIDLOML: i’d like to think yn is astrid’s forever chaperone in events 🤣
Replying to @/ASTRIDLOML
- @/crownprincessyn: haha going to a rock concert is not so yn 😆😆
@/multifandommyg: imagine having zafiro’s princesses as your fans
@/sweetmonthof9th: i want to see the boys' reactions 💀
@/cartermatters: lolololol mingyu would be teasing the hell out of jk 
@/ZafiroRoyaltyNews: Princesses YN and Astrid attended Sweet September’s concert after today’s royal events! 💜✨ #DenimJungleInZF [insert photos]
@/SweetSeptember_twt: Hey! Hey! Hey! Rubies are red. Sapphires are blue. You guys are a gem that is hard to find! A big 💜 to Zafiro. Thank you all for coming tonight! #DenimJungleInZF
Tumblr media
“Thank you so much!”
Your mouth felt dry. You lost track of how many times you gulped throughout the whole performance as your eyes focused on someone. You felt like in a haze– a very hot one. 
Jungkook.
That’s his name, right? Whoever he is, he has the prettiest voice. You rarely listen to their genre of music but you managed to be entertained the whole time. But you don’t know why. When you saw him in that white shirt after he removed his leather jacket on stage, your brain stopped working for seconds. It’s probably because you didn’t expect him to have that arm sleeve tattoo. 
It’s so pretty.
He’s so pretty.
“Oh! That was so much fun! Thank you so much for going here with me.” Astrid cut off your thoughts. “I know this isn’t your type of music. So, I really appreciate you here with me.”
She jumped to hug you and you hugged her back, trying to cleanse off the thoughts in your mind. You just excuse your reaction now as a shock since this is your first rock concert. After saying goodbye to her friends, Astrid pulled you with her out of your seats. She continued talking to you about her excitement. You tried to listen but failed. You just remembered that lead singer playing with that guitar like his life depended on it. His fingers were smooth on playing that thing like he’s used to–
“Excuse me! Excuse me! Princess YN! Princess Astrid!”
Again, you snapped out of your thoughts. Both you and Astrid turned your head back when you heard your names. The lady who was next to you during the concert is now wearing her security earpiece. She was probably following you two since you walked out but you didn’t notice for obvious reason. She also looked at that someone who called for you.
That someone was also a concert staff. You read that card that she wears in her lanyard that says, MANAGER. She was almost out of breath when you stopped.
“Oh, I apologize for the informalities, Your Royal Highnesses.” she tried to speak with her hands on her knees, to catch her breath. After some seconds, she continued, “I am Tara Montez, Sweet September’s manager.”
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Montez.” you smiled, offering your hand for a shake, which she accepted. Astrid also did the same thing.
“Nice to meet you too, Princess YN and Princess Astrid. Thank you so much for being here!”  You see Tara paused. “It was totally unexpected and rare to see princesses at the band’s concerts. Uhm… We were hoping the band could meet you. They are big fans of your country. It would be an honor for them to meet you two even just for a short time.”
Astrid audibly gasped. You looked at her and her eyes say it all. You can even see the sparkles in her eyes. You can also hear your bodyguard communicating through her wireless device. You’re sure Eddie would definitely want you to walk out of the venue now but you know your sister would love the offer. It’s a one-time thing.
So before your bodyguard can interfere, you answered.
“Of course.”
Tumblr media
Back in the green room, Jungkook and the other members now showered and changed into their casual clothes. Carter and Woosung munched on the chips they saw on the table. Mingyu was giggling as he secretly takes a clip of Jungkook walking back and forth.
“What should we do?” he asked them, trying to keep his cool. But everyone can tell, he’s failing. He just never thought he would meet any royalty– you.
Out of distraction from the chips, Carter replied, “Curtsy?”
Before the others can laugh with that, the door opened and they immediately stood up straight. Carter and Woosung wiped their hands and even sanitized them. Mingyu wiggled his eyebrows at Jungkook. The latter gave him an annoyed look.
“And this is Sweet September.” Tara, who got in first, introduced them.
Jungkook’s heart almost stopped when he sees you entering with your small smile. Every photograph posted in the news and articles didn’t give your beauty any justice as he found you more attractive now you’re in the same room as him. When you locked eyes with him, he swore his heart fluttered.
Following what Carter said, Jungkook was ready to curtsy when you spoke.
“Oh… Uhm, we don’t really do that here, Mister. That’s more of like the UK’s thing. A bow would be fine.”
Everyone in the room laughed except you, who tried to be professional. But you found it cute. Especially when you saw that tint of red forming across his cheeks.
“Oh— uhm— My apologies, my quee– princess.”
“It’s your royal highness, dumbass.” his bandmate whisper-shouted at the back.
Your sister scoffed, finding the lead vocalist’s mistake as funny. You looked at her sternly. She acted appropriately again. You looked back at the boys again, trying to break your sight away from Jungkook.
“Thank you so much for coming to our country. I’ve never seen a crowd as energetic as that.” you began the conversation to break the ice. “It’s a surprise for me to hear our people here singing almost every song in your set. I just learned they are a big fan of your group.”
“How about you, Your Royal Highness,” Jungkook asked. He doesn’t know where he’s getting all this strength to talk to you. But he just knows that this might be his first and last.
You replied with the truth, “Oh– I– this is actually my first time listening to your music. Princess Astrid right here just invited me to go here with her.”
“She’s more of a jazz fan.” Astrid shared and they nodded.
Before the conversation continues, your bodyguard spoke, “Excuse me. Madams. The Royal Staff is asking us to go out now.“
Woosung was quick to request when they heard that, “Can we take a picture with you, Royal Highnesses?”
“Of course!”
This time, Astrid replied with uncontained excitement. You stood in between the four members. Mingyu was supposed to be next to you but he pulled Jungkook to exchange places with him. Jungkook instantly smelled the sweet and flowery scent just by being next to you while you ignored that strange feeling in your stomach when you felt your arms touched.
“Okay, one… two… three!”
The band stood in line once again after that. You and Astrid shook hands with them in turns. You introduced yourselves and so they did too. Ever since you were a kid, when you began attending public royal events, you always followed the royal protocol. In every person you met, you would shake their hand while having good eye contact. Another part of the protocol is the public cannot physically touch you unless you initiated it first. So, you did.  
The boys seemed surprised but showed their respect by bowing their heads while you shook hands with each of them. You just hoped your hand was not stone cold since you felt like it was since you stood in front of their lead vocalist. But when it comes to the last person in the line, Jungkook smoothly managed to kiss the back of your hand when you offer it for a handshake.
You were taken aback by the action. Not because he did it. But because it felt something else. The kiss was feather-like. It was light and brief. But you felt something electric run through your veins the moment his lips touched your skin. Your heart shivered. Then, it suddenly beat fast and you’re scared that everyone around you can hear it. You gulped as you made eye contact with him again.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Your Royal Highness,” his deep and slightly hoarse voice said. It made you feel things you don’t know and you hate and like it at the same time. “I’ve read a lot about you.”
You pursed your lips, “You did?”
“Yeah.”
You wanted to ask and know more about what he reads about you. But before you can say anything again, 
“The Royal Courtier is waiting, ma’am.” the guard interrupted.
You tried not to show annoyance. But sighed.
“Well, we shall go. Our staff is waiting outside.” you smiled. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay here in our country. Congratulations on your concert.”
They bowed and you turned around with Astrid, ready to leave the room.
“Wait!” Mingyu stopped you one more time. “Is there any way we can reach out to you and invite you girls again to our future events? E-mail? Phone number? Telephone number?”
Your sister was over the moon hearing that while you tried to hide the smirk forming on your lips. Jungkook knows what his friend is doing and he is somewhat thankful for Mingyu.
“The only way to contact us is through Zafiro’s Royal Communication Office. I believe their e-mail and telephone numbers are on their websites.” you sounded like you were teasing. But you just honestly found their attempt funny. “Other than that, feel free to send us a letter through the mail.”
Of course, you would not give your personal number. Jungkook thought. Do you even have that? You probably have your own assistant who answered calls for you. It is known to almost everyone that even though every royalty in Zafiro has their own social media accounts, you just use them to share your duties and advocacies.
“Again, it was nice meeting your band. We hope you come back to our country soon.”
You left the room, sharing knowing glances with your sister.
Tumblr media
While on their way back to their hotel, Jungkook scrolls on his Instagram account. His notifications were on blast as usual. But something caught his attention when he almost exit the app.
97.sapphire is now following you!
His eyes squinted. He clicked on the account. It only has twelve followers and two posts. It follows nothing. The account’s two posts are photos of artworks. One is a watercolor painting of a flower field during sunset. While the other is a detailed pencil drawing of what seemed like a coffee shop. Then, another notification popped out.
97.sapphire sent you a message.
Jungkook raised an eyebrow before he clicked on it. Without really expecting anything, he reads the message. As he go through the words, his eyebrow lowered while his lips formed into a smile.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
let me know what do u want to read more about this pair! :) thank you so much for reading.
taglist rules
THE PRINCESS AND THE ROCKSTAR TAGLIST
@heartjiminie @rbrm094 @rjsmochii @jjkreblog @sugaslittlekookies @saintsugar @thvlover7 @alpha-mommy69 @natalia-rmnva @coralmusicblaze @stupendouscookiehumanmug @namgoogieee @yoonjinhusbands @borahaeb1ch @lilliankoo @0rubyrose0
PERMANENT TAGLIST
@dunixxd​ @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @miyukihoshi @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1
592 notes · View notes