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#bts scenarios
rmverse · 8 months ago
Shield || jjk
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⇢ pairing: security guard!jungkook x bartender!reader ⇢ genre: fluff, romance, smut ⇢ word count: 18.6k ⇢ warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex, rough sex, lots of dirty talk it’s pretty filthy, a brief scene of harassment (it’s not graphic, no touching involved), spanking, hair pulling, jungkook has a big dick, jungkook is the cutest shyest boy to ever exist, reader and jk blush A LOT, jk in a leather jacket that’s about it ⇢ summary: An unfortunate, messy situation involving a drunk asshole not taking no for an answer prompts your boss to hire a new security guard to stay near, just for safe-keeping. When all you were expecting was a guy in his late thirties who couldn’t bother to smile, much less be friendly, you’re pleasantly surprised by the cute, rather shy guy whose job is to keep his eyes on you and protect you for five nights a week.
A/N: I am SOSOSOSO happy with this fic. I had so much fun writing it. This was written in a couple of days where I just sat for straight HOURS writing like,,,,5k words a sitting. I love this with my whole heart and I hope y’all do too. Please, let me know what you think, feedback is, as always, very much appreciated!
Banner was made by the wonderful angel @mikrokosm​ thank you sm baby!!! this looks so much better than the trashy one i made asjsksj
tag list: @sscarletrrose @giadalin @out-of-jams @kookoo-kachoo @teresaisla @wickizer @fakeleaves @el-mc @smol1 @luisafuchs @athenakyle @claude-y 
“I’m so sorry, Hobi,” you apologize for the nth time for the night, tone laced with an immense amount of guilt as you watch Seokjin dab the cloth to the corner of Hoseok’s mouth. Hoseok rolls his eyes and looks up at you with a raised brow.
“Why are-ow,” he hisses and jerks back and Seokjin only murmurs a quick apology before pulling him forward and warning him not to move anymore. “Why are you apologizing? How is this your fault exactly?”
“Well, I mean...” Your words trail off and you huff, crossing your arms and leaning back on a table behind you.
“He’s right, __. It’s not your fault that so many guys that come here are jerks,” Seokjin chips in, leaning away from Hoseok for a second to grab the alcohol to clean the newly formed cut near his mouth.
“Still,” you sigh, shuffling over to Hoseok and placing a hand on his shoulder. He smiles up at you gently, but winces the next second when Jin begins cleaning the cut. You sigh once again. “It wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for me.”
“Oh shut up, will you?” Hoseok groans. “I’ll just start going to the gym and bulk up for this shit,” he chuckles and you laugh along.
“Actually,” Jin pipes in, finally done with Hoseok and begins to tidy up, patting Hoseok’s arm as a signal that he could get up. He looks up at you. “That won’t be necessary,” he informs you with a smile. “After the last time this-” he pauses to gesture with his finger towards Hoseok, who’s inspecting the cut on his phone camera, referring to the last time Hoseok had intervened with a drunk customer who was getting too pushy with you and ended up with a similar cut on the other side of his face because the guy was just way bigger than him. “-happened, I talked to Yoongi.” Yoongi was the owner and Jin was close friends with him, and he entrusted Jin with managing the place and keep it under his supervision.
“I told that this was happening way too often and that we might need some help to keep things under control,” he stands up from his seat and Hoseok finally looks up at him inquisitively. “He told me to interview some people and bring someone to keep near the bar, watch over for you two.”
“Oh,” your eyebrows raise in interest. “I mean-”
“That’d be great, actually,” Hoseok is quick to intervene. He turns to you. “I’d be happy to take a beating any day for you, __. But my poor face can only take so much before it breaks,” he’s only half-joking, you’re sure of that.
You shake your head with a sympathetic smile and cup his cheeks gently. “I’m sorry,” you repeat with a pout before looking to Jin with a bright smile. “Thanks, Jin. We could use the help.”
Jin nods and informs you that he already has someone lined up for the job. “I’ll give him a call tomorrow so we can decide on when he would start.”
You go home that night, pout still slightly showing on your lips as you relive the events of the night. It always seemed that the creepy, perverted customers sat on your side of the bar, getting too comfortable and flirting with you through drunken slurs and winks. You could deal with the flirting, you were trained for it. You knew what kind of men walked into the bar, you simply ignored their usual attempts with a smile and poured their drinks, hoping the alcohol would soon enough inhibit their ability to speak and they would leave you alone.
But some were persistent, words much too vulgar for your liking, tone making your skin crawl, looking at you like you were a piece of meat parading around for their own viewing pleasure, some going as far as leaning over the counter and going for a grab at you. Those were the ones who caused situations like these, who caused scenes and fights and occasionally brought bruises to Hoseok’s pretty face before security could handle it.
You at least went to sleep that night slightly comforted by the fact that there would eventually be someone there to keep the situation under control from now on. You didn’t dwell on it too much, figuring he would be like the rest. The other security guys were mostly guys in their late thirties, bulked up and had intimidating faces that could put any riot down. You didn’t care much, just so long as they did their job right and allowed you to do yours right as well, without any disturbances.
Whatever you were expecting when you walked in a couple of nights later for the beginning of your shift, it was not that.
There, talking to Jin, stood a guy. A guy that was, if your eyes weren’t deceiving you, the most attractive person you had seen in a long time, and your job allowed you to see too many faces for your liking every single night.
He was gorgeous.
Adorned in all-black attire, as simple as it might sound, it looked entirely too appealing on him. Long, wavy, dark hair covered his forehead and brushed over his eyes slightly. Black leather jacket thrown over his shoulders, it only hid a little bit of his physique. He was quite tall, and you could quite clearly see that he was built even from where you were stood.
“Ah, __!”
Your name is suddenly being called and the stranger’s eyes are now on you at that same moment. You make eye contact right then and you suddenly feel nervous. You were like that around a lot of people, but especially attractive ones. You’re quick to plaster on a smile and make your way over to the two men, trying hard not to stare too much at the handsome stranger whose gaze is still on you.
Jin places a hand on your shoulder the second you’re at arms distance and smiles at Jungkook. “This here is Jeon Jungkook. And he’s going to be your knight in shining armor, your savior, your-”
“I get it, Seokjin,” you chuckle at Jin’s over-exaggerated introduction and look to Jungkook with a polite smile. Based on Jin’s little show and the events that had occurred earlier this week in this very room, you can honestly guess that this would be the new security guy that Seokjin had informed you would be starting very soon.
“It’s nice to meet you, Jungkook,” you stretch you arm out for a greeting and he takes it in his for a gentle handshake, allowing you to catch a glimpse of tattoos adorning his fist, traveling up his arm where his jacket sleeve rides up slightly with the movement.
“Pleasure’s all mine,” he smiles, a very charming smile at that, and you find yourself shaking his hand for too long to be considered normal before dropping your hand quickly with a chuckle, to which he continues to look at you with a curious look in his eyes.
God, he was cute.
“So, um,” you clear your throat and shift on your feet. “When do you start?”
“Tonight,” he immediately answers, stuffing both hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “Hyung told me that you needed a hand around here and honestly,” he pauses with a chuckle. “I could use the pay.”
“Hobi will be thrilled to have you here tonight,” you half-joke and Jin laughs.
“She means Hoseok,” Jin tells Jungkook and Jungkook nods. “He’s supposed to come around in a bit. Poor guy always takes beatings for our pretty princess here-”
“Hey,” you whine when Jin lifts a hand to ruffle your hair. You push it away with a huff, sensing heat traveling to your cheeks due to being the center of attention at the moment, and it only deepens when you look to Jungkook and he seems to be staring at you, seemingly studying you as you stand there. It goes on for a moment and you can’t even bring yourself to make eye contact with him because you seem to be blushing way too much for a simple first encounter with this guy and look to Jin, who’s staring on amusedly.
Saved by the sound of footsteps coming from behind before a loud greeting fills the room, Hoseok finally making his entrance with a bag swung over his shoulder, strutting over with a pretty smile and a healing cut on his cheek.
“Hello, princess,” Hoseok greets you and swings an arm around your shoulder. There goes that nickname again. Your eyes unintentionally flit up to Jungkook’s and his appear to be glued to Hoseok’s arm placed so casually on your shoulder, and the way you comfortably lean into him.
“Hey,” he directs his speech towards Jungkook with a polite smile, before looking questioningly towards Jin, awaiting a response.
“Jungkook, this is Hoseok,” Jin begins. Hoseok then releases your shoulder from his hold and half leans towards Jungkook with an outstretched arm as Jin continues. “He’ll be working with __. These are the only two pretty faces that you need to worry about, everything else is covered.”
“Oh?” Hoseok pauses with Jungkook’s hand still in his and turns to you with a shocked look, which then morphs into one of relief and happiness. “Oh, you’re Jungkook? Ah, welcome aboard,” Hoseok’s tone is excited and you hold back a chuckle as Jungkook just chuckles and murmurs a couple of  quiet ‘thanks’.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Hobi continues and leans back once again, adjusting the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “But, um, I didn’t expect you to be this young.”
“He’s not that young,” Jin quickly interjects, shrugging. "He’s about __’s age I think,” Jin guesses and you both look at each other at the same time with hints of smiles at your lips.
“Plus,” Jin continues and places a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder with a proud smile gracing his lips, resembling a proud father for some reason. “Our Jungkook here has a black belt in Taekwondo!”
Both yours and Hoseok’s gazes fixate on Jungkook, more impressed than anything and for a moment, his confidence seems to falter and he looks at the ground for a second with a shy smile and shifts his feet, adorned in large combat boots that add onto the irony of this tall man acting coy when being praised.
“So not only will he kick anyone’s ass,” Jin jokes. “It’ll be extra fun to watch.”
During the first week of Jungkook working here, you gather a bit of knowledge about him.
You learn that he takes his job seriously. You didn’t know why exactly, but you had kind of sensed that it would be that way since you first met him, and he only proved you right when his first shift arrived and you don’t think you saw his lips twitch up into a smile even once that night. The night passed without a glitch, his eyes gazing over every single drunk body that sat by the bar, or even just simply passed by. 
The following few nights went pretty much the same, albeit a bit slower since it wasn’t terribly busy during weekdays and you had some rare moments to breathe. You couldn’t help it; staring at him. He was just new and you were getting your eyes acquainted with the new handsome guy who happened to be the new security guard who stood in his spot not too far away, adjacent to one of the walls. Hands clasped in front of him, face devoid of any emotion, eyebrows furrowed as he scanned the area.
It went like that for the first week, strictly work, not much interactions but friendly smiles when arriving for work and perhaps exchanging a couple of words before Hoseok would come join you two.
“So,” Seulgi, one of the servers and someone you would consider to be your friend her besides Hoseok, says as she leans against her now closed locker while you put your things away in yours before your shift starts. “New guy’s pretty good, huh?”
“I mean,” you tilt your head a little in thought. “Nothing’s really happened since he started-”
“I meant hot, new guy’s pretty hot,” she starts before you start getting into boring detail about analyzing how he does his job and you immediately chuckle.
“Thought you were hung up on Hoseok?” You tease as you shut your locker and turn to her with a smile and she immediately blushes before scoffing at you.
“Doesn’t mean I’m blind,” she retorts. “Besides, nothing’s happened so far probably because they’re all too busy ogling the new hot security guard, all genders included.”
“Yeah,” you agree with a sigh as you begin to make your way out with her trailing beside you. “He is pretty cute.”
Cute was an understatement. He was mesmerizing. You thought seeing him everyday for two weeks would’ve had you accustomed to his face by now but, again, it’s been two weeks and you still stumble over your words when you manage to bump into him as you step out of the locker room with Seulgi right behind you.
“Shit, sorry. Oh-” Your eyes lock with his and he’s just so close. When have you ever stuttered before? “I-I...Sorry, Jungkook.”
“It’s okay,” his tone is soft and he says it with a smile as he politely steps aside and allows you and your friend to pass by before he begins making his way to the back as well, and you really couldn’t help yourself from looking back at his retreating form down the hall.
“Oh, okay,” Seulgi says in an understanding tone. “I see what it is.”
“You see nothing,” you deadpan and turn to her with a bored glare. “You just stick to trying to get into Hobi’s pants and worry about your own problems-”
“Hey, how dare you- wait! Come back here right now!”
The following week takes a different turn with a switch of events.
Hoseok is usually the one in charge of locking up. After everyone clears out, it’s only you and him that stay till the very last moment as you help each other reorganize drinks back into their places and clean up for what feels like the thousandth time that night.
However, he comes to you before the beginning of your shift in the hallway with a pleading look on his face.
“It’s only for this week, I wouldn’t ask if I really didn’t have to but Namjoon wants us to work on the mixtape so we can have it done by next week and leaving early can buy me an extra hour or two and-”
You cut his rambling off with a chuckle and bring your palms up to pinch at his cheeks, intentionally squeezing firmly.
“On one condition,” you raise your eyebrows and Hoseok already knows that you’ve agreed even if he doesn’t agree to your ‘condition’.
“You let me hear it as soon as it’s done,” you say, very seriously and Hoseok relaxes in your hold before pulling you into a hug.
“Thank you-”
“Oh, sorry.”
You hear a familiar voice once you’re fully enveloped in Hoseok’s arms and you don’t know why you pull away so hastily because nothing was even happening, but you look at Jungkook who stands there like he’s walked in on something that was going on.
“Jungkook,” his name slips out of your lips and you’re beginning to grow accustomed to it. And you like how it sounds coming from you, you’re beginning to realize. You smile awkwardly at him. “We were just...” You trail off, not really knowing what to say, and not really understanding why you were currently trying to explain to the guy who was, so far, nothing but a coworker of yours.
“Ah, it’s fine,” he excuses himself with a smile an says something about wanting to go out back before they were open because he wanted some fresh air. Hoseok shrugs and pats your shoulder and tells you that he needed to speak with Jin about something that you don’t quite focus on because you’re busy watching Jungkook walking away.
The night goes by rather fast, quick work, all smooth sailing so far.
Until he walks in.
Im Jaebum.
He visited quite frequently, every month or so, he would come either by himself or with a friend of his. He hasn’t done anything particularly bad, usually very tame and relaxed in comparison to other drunkards around here, but you knew from people who knew him that he wasn’t a very decent guy. And if that wasn’t anything to go buy, you didn’t feel very comfortable with the way he looked at you or the way he, at times, would lean slightly over the counter and brush a finger over your hand or wrist while he attempted to flirt you up.
You were usually very professional and ignored his attempts because, sadly, he was loaded (all scumbags are) and you weren’t going to deprive yourself of any tips. When you felt he was going too far, you would send Hoseok over to take over his side of the bar and tell him that he was being extra creepy tonight, and Hoseok would nod without hesitation.
Tonight didn’t seem to be looking too good the second you spotted Im Jaebum and not only one, not two, but three other guys who you only assumed to be his close friends with the way they all were laughing loudly together.
You huff and look to Hoseok with a gaze that said you were already done before they even got here, but quickly replace it with a smile as soon as they stand by your side of the bar and you splay both palms against the counter and direct your attention towards them.
“What can I get you tonight?”
You can’t really see it since you haven’t looked his way much this past night, but Jungkook’s eyes are glued on you. Well, not really just you, more so the group of loud, rambunctious men who just piled in a couple of minutes ago and are centered around you. He watches closely, gaze hardening with every passing second because Jungkook knew, he just knew when something didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel right how, as his eyes laser focused on all four mean, their eyes seemed to be taking in every little move you made. His eyes flicker over to you and, from his past two weeks of working here and watching you (as discreetly as possible), he now knew how it looked like when you were uncomfortable. Eyes not lifting up once from the counter, lips rubbing together tightly and teeth occasionally pulling and gnawing at your bottom lip, smile not as wide as it usually is when you slide the drinks over to them.
Jungkook is a very attentive man, but that trait seems to have doubled when he started working here - started working with you.
He knew it was coming. Any second now. He could hear their loud laughter and the shameless comments he could catch every now and then when the music was low enough and he strained his hearing hard enough to make sense of them. His blood boiled. He just wanted you to look once his way, only once, and tell him to move. Do something. But you don’t. You continue to work and serve them round after round.
And so he takes it upon himself to take action when one of them reaches across the bar and grips your wrist when you place another drink in front of him. You freeze because he’s leaning forward to whisper something to you, something you know is not going to be in the least bit appropriate and is going to make you want to throw up whatever lunch you had this day. However, he doesn’t get close enough because someone is gripping his shoulder and pulling him back, and all the air that had been caught in your throat at his revolting touch is released in a gasp as you watch none other than Jungkook, face as stoic as ever, pull the smaller man up and off his bar stool.
“Excuse me, sir,” he speaks in a stern voice that you’re hearing for the first time since you met him, an incredible contrast to the soft and gentle tone he usually utters his words around you and everyone else around here.
“Please stay seated behind the bar,” he states. “And hands to yourself.”
You look at Jungkook and, despite maintaining a professional act and keeping his face neutral, his jaw is clenched tight and his nostrils are flaring. The men seem entirely too careless to that fact and they only bust out into laughter, seeming to think they own the place and that this mere inconvenience shouldn’t be enough to deter their fun for the night. One of them even pats Jungkook’s shoulder as he laughs and Jungkook’s tongue is pushing against his cheek, an angry tick of his.
“Ah, it’s all good,” Jaebum now replies with a smile that you can only describe as sleazy. “We’re all friends here, __ knows that. Isn’t that right sweetheart?”
“Yeah, buddy. Run along now, kid,” another man adds.
It happens all at once. Jaebum is once again leaning across the counter in an attempt to get close to you, while one of his friends reaches for Jungkook’s back in an attempt to lead him away from their group. That’s when Jungkook feels it serves right to touch at least one of them, and he chooses the closest target - the one with a hand on his back. Within seconds, Jungkook is stood behind the guy and he’s yelping out in pain as Jungkook twists his arm into position between his shoulder blades.
A fuss was starting to happen and you and Hoseok watched, a couple of bystanders watching as well. Jungkook’s stare pointed towards Jaebum.
“I suggest you leave here or I’ll escort you out myself, sir,” he says, and when Jaebum hesitates only for a second, Jungkook tightens his hold on the guy’s arm and twists it further and the guy grunts out a curse.
“Jesus fuck man, let’s just leave,” one of his other friends groans out, seemingly bored with all the action. “’s not like she’s worth it that much anyways.”
You hear that, and you know Jungkook does because the man he holds groans out in pain before he shoves him towards the door before turning to the rest with an expectant look. After all, Jin did give him permission to kick out anyone who he felt was gonna start up any fuss. Jin wasn’t all that about keep the loaded ones happy and keep your mouth shut type of policy; the place was already doing pretty well on its own, Jin would constantly assure as Yoongi would in turn assure him.
The group is kicked out and everything is back to normal. Hoseok is taking orders, crowd dispersing, drinks are being served and no one is so much as looking your way. All except for one person.
“Hey, are you okay?”
He’s leaning over the counter and speaking loudly so that you can hear him clearly. Despite this occurring many times in your line of work, and despite you constantly assuring yourself that you were used to it, you knew that you were lying to yourself and that there was always this small fear inside of you at the fact that it could happen again, and it left you a bit shaken up every time.
“Yeah,” you quickly nod in reply and shoot him a small smile. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“You sure?” He insists. There’s a look in his eyes. This was his job after all, though you didn’t expect him to be this concerned for your safety. You thought it was just about the general atmosphere and keeping assholes under control. But the way he was looking at you right now told you differently, large doe eyes watching you expectantly for any sign that you’re not feeling well.
Your heart stutters and you gulp.
“I’m okay,” you assure him. “Thank you, Jungkook.”
He only nods at you with a smile and slips away, between the crowd and back at his post where he stands against the wall as before. You continue to look, even as he catches you staring and holds your gaze for a second before shooting you a small smile. You barely catch it, dim lighting and all, but it’s the first of many that you receive from him.
That night, Jungkook stalls. He keeps stalling and stalling, waiting until he knows no one is left but you and Hoseok. He knows that the two of you are usually the last to leave for the night and he’s in the locker room getting his bag, waiting for the right moment just to make sure and feel at ease for the night. 
You and Hoseok are together, he thinks. With the way he’s so incredibly affectionate with you, constantly touching you and hugging you, so playful and comfortable with you. And then tonight, when he saw you two together in the hallway. Sure, you were just hugging, but it could imply that you two might have something going on. 
But what irked Jungkook the most was that Hoseok had made no move to intervene tonight with everything that was happening. Sure, Jungkook had it all under control, and sure it was technically Jungkook’s job to deal with it, but still. He couldn’t imagine himself being on the other side of the bar, standing there with you, and not jumping into action the second you almost dropped one of the drinks because of how uncomfortable you felt with those guys harassing you. You were always so composed, steady hands mixing drinks and handling glasses like they were mere feathers between your fingertips, but it only got slipper and messy when your head wasn’t in the right place. And Jungkook knew that because he watched.
Attentive, he was.
So yes, he waited and waited, and when he walked back out to see you all alone, ready to head back and get your things to call it a night, he’s relieved he stayed back because god - he doesn’t want you going back home alone this late at night. And he knows you don’t go by car because he always sees you walking in, so it’s either the bus or a lonely walk him, and his heart didn’t sit right with either of those.
“Oh, hey,” you greet him when you cross paths. You weren’t expecting him to still be here. Hoseok had long departed and you were behind the bar, cleaning up by yourself for the first time for the rest of the week. “I didn’t know anyone was still here.”
“Yeah, uh,” he stumbles for a moment. “Still here.” He doesn’t bother explaining, his mind can’t seem to conjure up any lies this late at night.
The place is quiet, such a contrast to how it usually is. No music, no drunker chatter, no glasses clinking - the silence was nice and despite the usual party atmosphere this place held, the silence somehow morphed it into a cozy one. Similar to Jungkook now stood in front of you, a complete and polar opposite to the sight you had witnessed merely hours ago. Long gone was the stoic stare and the harsh eyes, replaced with an innocent gaze and the hint of a smile as he stuck his hands in the pocket of his jacket. How he managed to switch and maintain both personas was beyond you.
“Are you going home alone?” He asks after a beat of silence, only realizing that that might have sounded just slightly wrong after he said it. “I mean, it’s really late...” He trails off while explaining, looking at you expectantly.
This is a first for you. It’s the first time that you’re chatting privately with Jungkook, absolutely no one around with nothing to distract you from your usual thoughts.
Tonight really did nothing to help with those thoughts, on the contrary, it only heightened them to the highest of extents. You already knew you were attracted to Jungkook, any person with a pair of eyes could see why that was apparent. But the way he acted tonight, the way he looked into your eyes, as if searching for any sign of discomfort, as if willing to do anything to erase those signs. The way he kept looking over at you, checking, sending smiles your way, somehow reassuring you of his presence - that he was there and that there was nothing to worry about.
And now, standing in front of you with that same look. Concern, worry, he wants your safety. He stayed behind to make sure of that. And that does things to your heart, and to your stomach because in the next second, you feel it flood to the hilt with colorful butterflies. It’s almost nauseating how you feel yourself simultaneously slowly and quickly gravitating towards him, towards the safety and warm that he seems to radiate just by standing there.
You snap out of it.
“Yeah,” you confirm. Your voice is low though, so you clear your throat and look up at him with an assuring smile and try again. “Yeah. I usually leave right on time for the last bus but since I’m closing up tonight, I’m gonna have to walk.”
“I can drive you, if you’d like?” He wastes no time to offer.
“No, really, it’s okay,” you wave it off with a nervous chuckle. “I walk home all the time, it’s no-”
“No, please,” he insists. “I can’t have you walking back home this late at night.”
It didn’t really take much more convincing than that, not like you could’ve argued at all when you could practically feel yourself melting at this short interaction that was taking place, an interaction that you had kinda been hoping for to happen and just now realized how much you wanted it to take place.
So he drives you home and the ride was quiet, not too awkward, but there wasn’t much talking anyways. He resorts to the next best thing and turns on some music to fix it, which you gladly appreciate because you relax into the passenger seat and allow yourself to enjoy the soft tunes after a long night of intense, blaring music that was drilled into your ears.
That was the first night of the week, and you expected it to be the last. However, you are oh so pleasantly surprised when the next day, Jungkook passes by you and Seulgi and greets you with more enthusiasm than usual, as opposed to the small head nod and shy smile he would usually direct towards the both of you.
“Hey, __.”
To which you shyly reply and turn to your friend with a slow puff of air that has her snickering at you.
That night he shows up in front of you the same way he did the night before, not really bothering to try and come up with an excuse as to why he was still here so late for the second time in a row. You’re wiping down the counter when you notice him standing there, bag slung over his shoulder.
“Hey, still here?” You ask once again.
“Yeah,” he shrugs. The thud of his boots is distinct in all the quiet as he steps closer to where you stand. “Are you nearly done?”
The way he asks it sends a shiver down your spine because he spoke it so casually, as if waiting for you to finish up so he can take you home was something he normally did. But you keep your back to him in hopes of him not witnessing your cheeks warming up and bite down a smile.
“Yeah, just a couple of minutes so I can grab my things.”
He waits for you near his car, where he usually parks, leaning against the door with a coy smile on his lips. His heart is racing and he stares at the entrance door excitedly, waiting for your figure to show up. Though something in the back of his mind plagues his thoughts since last night and he really couldn’t wait to figure it out. And when he finally figures out how to ask the question, he blurts it out.
“So, um, do you and Hoseok not usually leave together?”
His question is strange. It’s worded strangely and it’s very much out of nowhere. Your brows furrow in confusion.
“No, not really,” you answer slowly but surely, voice clear over the low hum of the engine. There still wasn’t any music in the car seeing as how you’d just taken off. “I usually leave much earlier than him, but he has this thing this week, so I’m kind of in charge of staying last.” 
You glance quickly at him. His brows are furrowed and his lips are slightly pursed. You don’t know what exactly he’s trying to analyze about your answer-
“I just assumed he would wait for you to finish,” he spoke his words slowly. “You know, so you could leave together.”
You turn to him with a baffled expression, still not comprehending why he would come to that analysis in the first place.
“You know,” he pauses to clear his throat. His grip tightens on the steering wheel. The car slows down as he takes a left turn. “Since you two are, um, together and all...”
His voice gets slightly lower towards the end of the sentence and you catch his eyes flicker over to your side of the car for a quick second to check for your reaction before they once again fixate on the road. His words finally register in your head and realization dawns on your and a million thoughts race through your head.
“Oh,” you let out a sound of understanding before your eyes widen and you’re hastily shaking your head. “Oh, no. No no,” you chuckle nervously. You don’t comprehend how many times you repeat the word no before you finally pause. “We’re not together. Hobi and I are just friends. We’re very close and all that, but there’s nothing like that. At all.”
You can’t help yourself from stressing over that fact, wanting to make it very clear that there was nothing between you and Hoseok. When you sneak a peak towards him, you can the see obvious traces of a smile threatening to break out but he’s biting at his inner cheeks and his lips to hide it, tattooed fingers now drumming against the steering wheel in what looks to you as a happy manner.
“Oh, okay,” he confirms with a nod of his head. “Cool. That’s good.”
He doesn’t realize he added that last part, it just slipped out. God, it felt like he could throw himself out of the car at that exact second if it weren’t for the sound of your shy giggle reaching his ears and elating his entire being. That’s when he allows himself to properly smile and chuckle himself before reaching over and turning on some music, the rest of the ride spent in comfortable silence for that night.
The following day Jungkook comes up to you before your shift and leans against the wall as he casually chats you up, something that hadn’t happened since he first started working here about a month ago. But you indulge him and try not to focus too much on how he seems to drift closer, standing closer to you, looming over your space. His eyes twinkle even in the dim lighting around you. You notice all his details. His smile was to die for. Eyes crinkling up, cheeks forming into a round shape that almost completely erased the usual defined shape of his face, always so sharp and clean cut. 
Later that night you find out what his laugh sounds like in the warmth of his car on the ride home, right after you tell him about that one time Hoseok had been teasing you all night about some old guy that never once parted from the bar, Hoseok designating him by the name of your ‘sugar daddy’. Until it was revealed later that night through a white napkin that was left behind by the man himself, a series of numbers scribbled on it, for the ‘cute boy who serves the best drinks in town ;)’.
He laughed loudly and you immediately took the chance to look, his nose scrunching up and his head thrown back, thankfully at a stop sign. It sounds to boisterous, like music to your ears, making you feel at complete ease as your lips curl up into a smile as well.
You once again mentally compare the image of him in the dim lighting of the bar; chest puffed out, arms crossed, scowl plastered on his face. Tattoos inked into his knuckles and forearms. Long earrings dangling from his ears. Everything suited him so well, with the way his long hair cascaded down his eyes and completed that strong and mysterious vibe he carried with him when he was so focused on doing his job right, not letting his guard down unless your eyes met his. That’s when he would falter for a mere second and he would send a tiny smile your way that had you blushing and turning the other way in a haste.
But the guy sat next to you in his car right now, laughing childishly and humming along to a song he had picked out, was so different. But you liked both sides. 
You liked both sides a lot.
You call Jin one morning with a sore throat, coughing and sneezing, unable to speak a few proper words without feeling like the scratch in your throat would bring you to your death. You inform him that you won’t be able to come in and he assures you that it’s fine and tells you to rest well, drink lots of water and lots of warm tea.
That night, up in your bed, unable to sleep because you can never usually sleep when you get sick, your phone vibrates and the sound of a text arriving brings you to tear your eyes away from your laptop. You’d decided you might as well re-watch the first season of Supernatural.
From: Unknown hey, it’s jungkook :) hope you don’t mind me getting your number from hoseok  [2:13 am]
You spring up from your lying position, and despite the pain and body ache that takes over, a familiar feeling of butterflies once again swarms your tummy and it’s the first nice feeling that you’ve experiences all day/
From: Jungkook ik it’s late and you’re probably asleep but i hope you’re taking care of yourself  [2:13 am]
You nibble on your bottom lip before deciding: to hell with dignity. You open the message only a few seconds later. He was typing, but the three bubbles disappear and you assume it’s because he saw that you had just opened his text when he wasn’t expecting for you to do that so late.
To: Jungkook hi jungkook, thanks for checking up on me :) just a bit tired is all [2:15 am]
From: Jungkook you’re still up ?? are you not feeling well?? [2:15 am]
The text comes nearly seconds after you send yours and you can’t help the smile the takes over your face. You feel stupid smiling at your phone like this but god he’s so sweet it’s killing you.
To: Jungkook a bit restless’s okay. couldn’t buy medicine today so i’ll get some tomorrow and that’ll help me sleep a bit [2:!5 am]
This time he reads your message and waits. You stare at your phone, confused as you watch bubbles disappear and reappear on your phone screen. It’s exactly two minutes before you finally receive one.
From: Jungkook i can drop some off tomorrow at your place [2:17 am]
From: Jungkook if you’re comfortable with that [2:17 am]
From: Jungkook i can leave it at your door and you can just take it when you want [2:17 am]
You’re staring at your phone, shell-shocked, unable to fathom the words that you were reading. They came one after the other, and you could almost imagine him stuttering and spitting out phrases to make you more comfortable with the idea, like he did that first night when he offered to drive you home.
You take a deep breath and type out your response.
To: Jungkook you’d do that? [2:18 am]
His reply is immediate.
From: Jungkook of course [2:18 am]
The following morning, there’s a bag at your doorstep. Medicine, and several tupperwares filled with food. Your heart is melting, your head feels light with all the emotions you’re experiencing as you bring the bag inside, taking notice of a note that’s placed inside the bag.
these are jin-hyung’s recipe so i think they should be good if i followed all the steps right. enjoy and feel better :)
His handwriting suits him, you think. It’s cute.
The next time you see Jungkook, you surprise him, yourself, and Hoseok who happens to be a witness of the hug you envelope him in. It took a lot of pep-talk on your way here, but you managed to psyche yourself up just enough for you to actually go through with it. And, even more surprisingly, he’s only shocked for a moment before he willingly accepts your hug.
“Thanks for the medicine, Jungkook,” you pull away. You’re aware your face is extremely pink and that your voice is slightly shaky and you’re almost one hundred percent sure he could see your heart pumping through your chest, but you don’t really care because his cheeks are pink as well. “And for the food.”
“It was nothing,” he brushes it off with a timid chuckle as you step back and glance at Hoseok who’s trying very hard not to leave his jaw hanging on the floor. “You feel better now though, right?” He makes sure, in the same tone that now sounds familiar to you, laced with slight worry.
“Much,” you nod your head with a smile and his grin is back, bright as ever, full teeth on show.
“That’s all that matters then.”
You’re not responsible for closing up anymore and Hoseok shared his mixtape with you the day that it was finished.
Though you were free to leave earlier once again and could easily catch the bus back home, supposedly going back to your old routine, you step out and are caught by surprise when Jungkook is stood there, leaning on the wall adjacent to the entrance. 
He practically beams at you the moment he sees you and pushes himself off the wall as he shuffles over to you, boots scuffing over the pavement. He practically struts over and he looks like a god damn model with the way the wind ruffles his hair back, tight black turtleneck hugging his figure cozily but hidden due to the large jacket he had thrown on.
“You know I can just take the bus home again, right?” You tease with a smile but you begin to walk beside him nonetheless, making your way to his car. He nudges you with his elbow as you walk and look ahead.
“Just appreciate what I do for you,” he retorts.
The level of comfort and ease in which you both now chat and joke together has magnified over these past weeks, and you find yourself giggling shyly as he opens the passenger door for you to climb in. 
The ride is spent chatting as usual, you and Jungkook exchanging stories about drunkards and incidents occurring throughout the night. He wins tonight’s round with his story about the couple who kept trying to hit on this one guy, assuming they were trying to convince him to go home with them, until the guy’s girlfriend showed up and cursed the two out. You can’t imagine how he could’ve managed to keep a straight face with all of that unfolding in front of him.
You thank him for the ride, bid him farewell and he watches as you make your way up your apartment building, both of you smiling like idiots. Jungkook takes a second to collect himself, leaning his forehead against the steering wheel with a slow exhale of his breath before restarting the engine and driving away.
A week later. A full week of late nights driving you home, texting almost everyday, exchanging brief yet playful conversations at work, you practically feel like a schoolgirl. A schoolgirl who gets to see her cute crush almost everyday. You feel giddy and happy. You’re more active at work and you serve with a smile because you somehow always seem to eventually direct it towards the tall security guard who’s standing relatively near, eyes flickering towards you to throw you a quick wink that has Hoseok wiggling his eyebrows at you without Jungkook noticing.
One late night he parks his car by your apartment building and shuts off the engine, leaning back in his seat and looking at you. You unbuckle your seat belt but remain seated, not making any move to step out of the car just yet.
His fingers, as they usually do, are drumming against the steering wheel, and for a few seconds, that’s the only sound that resonates within the silence.
“So,” he begins. He starts a lot of sentences like that, you notice, but keep that to yourself and just stare at him expectantly. “Tomorrow’s off for you, right?”
“Yes,” you sigh in relief at the thought of not having to deal with people yelling different names of drinks your way. “Thank god for that.”
“Yeah,” he chuckles in agreement. He looks at you for a second and when he sees you looking he looks to the front once again, pursing his lips. “Anything planned?”
“Not really,” you answer with a shrug and continue to look at because you can sense where he was trying to go with this.
“Great, that’s...” He trails off. He huffs, annoyed with himself before he turns to you with pretty, charming eyes and a look that had you shifting in your seat with its intensity. “I can take the day off, too.”
It’s a statement but it sounded like a question all at the same time.
“And-” One hand leaves the steering wheel to ruffle his hair, pushing some strands back and behind his ear. “We can do something. Together.”
“Like a date,” he continues before you could say it, smiling hopefully at you, hoping that he never read any signs wrong. But he didn’t. He couldn’t have because you beam at him in the next second and he grins back, nose scrunch and all.
“I’d love that, Guk.”
Wow, that was the first time you called him anything but his full name and the shorter term never sounded better to his ears. You look so pretty to him. All cooped up in his car, smiling at him so sweetly and fingers twiddling shyly on your lap, eyes awaiting for his next words. You just look so sweet, so innocent in that moment, so captivating that he can’t help but just lean forward across the console and-
“Shit-” Just as he witnesses your eyes beginning to flutter shut once you realize what his intentions were, almost there, so close he was beginning to taste it, he felt himself being tugged back.
Of course he didn’t take his fucking seat-belt off.
A moment of silence is heard before you both start laughing hysterically at the ridiculous situation.
After you two are done, you maneuver freely and lean over to his side since you had bothered to take your seat-belt off and place a kiss right on the corner of his mouth, just shy from it being an actual kiss. Your allow your lips to linger for a second before pulling away, and you could swear he leaned forward just a bit as you did.
“Text me and we’ll pick a time for tomorrow, yeah?” You suggest as you open the passenger seat door. He licks his lips, having been so willing to kiss you at this moment, but he smiles and nods.
“Goodnight, __.”
He looks breathtaking to say the least and you more than appreciate the idea of witnessing him under the sunlight for the first time in months. He’s wearing an over-sized grey sweater, loose black jeans and the signature boots. He looks like a god, leaning back on his hands on the plaid blanket he’d packed with him. 
He nearly loses his breath when he first sees you. God, he knew you were gorgeous but the way you walked over to his car with an almost angelic smile gracing your features - how was he supposed to just not kiss you the second you were in his care? You usually wore jeans to work, but this. Where you trying to torture him? A skirt? 
He takes you on a picnic because, as he claims, I don’t think we’ve ever seen each other in proper sunlight before and I’ve been here for what - two or three months?
He and Jin go way back, he tells you after you find out that the meals and sandwiches he’d prepared had also been advised by Jin. He tells you that he was a family friend and that their parents knew each other very well. Jungkook’s parents didn’t live here, they lived abroad, and Jin’s parents were always after Jin to keep an eye on Jungkook and look after him.
And look after him he did. He introduced him to most his friends; Taehyung, Jimin and even Yoongi. He recommended him for a job at Taehyung’s tattoo shop since Jungkook was such a talented artist and he was responsible for the many designs displayed in Taehyung’s shop. He helped him find a place cheap and comfortable enough to live in. He’s encouraging him to let Taehyung teach him how to tattoo so he can make more money and maybe open up a place on his own. And he recommended him to Yoongi when they were talking about needing someone new around, highly praising him in front of his friend even though Yoongi already knew Jungkook personally.
He told you about it all and you listened carefully, taking it all in, watching the way he fiddled with the dangly piece of jewelry hanging from his ear as he spoke about all his friends, all of them older than him and how they shaped him into the man he is today. His experiences with them. Everything.
“Sorry,” he chuckles bashfully as he picks up a cherry and pops it into his mouth. He looks at you. “I was talking too much.”
“What? No,” you insist. You unconsciously shift closer to him on the blanket and your hand lands on the blanket right next to his as you lean on your side slightly. “I like listening.”
“I’m not much of a talker with new people,” he explains while looking at you. “I haven’t talked to anyone like this in a long time, actually,” he continues. He says that as soon as you feel a hand covering your own, fingers fiddling with yours.
You both look down at your hands and you feel your heart do flips when you flip your palm up beneath his and he intertwines your fingers with his.
“That was really cute,” you blurt out for some reason. Your cheeks are incredibly warm and pink, and so are the tips of your ears, but you can at least blame it on the sun this time, though you doubt that’s how he would analyze it.
You giggle, he chuckles. You both shift closer and closer until his nose is grazing yours. He tilts his head forward just a little and you can feel his lips graze yours. Your thoughts are clouded as you feel his warm breath hitting your face. His eyes are still open, albeit half-lidded, and he holds eye contact so intense it’s almost too much for you to handle. You gulp heavily.
It’s the way you whisper his name that finally brings him to cover your lips with his, mouth gently coaxing yours to move along with his. He kisses you sensually, something you don’t expect from your first kiss, you expect him to be more careful and reserved, but you’re not complaining as he tilts his head slightly to deepen the kiss and lifts a hand to your hair.
He kisses your breath away, mouth moving in a perfect pace, lips pecking yours gently several times before diving in for a deep kiss once again. His nose nudges yours, warmth washing over you as his fingers grip your hair very gently to bring you closer.
You hum in between kisses and he can’t help it. He can’t help but push closer. Your lips tasted heavenly, so sweet, so delicious, so addicting. He wanted more. He licks your lips and you willingly let him in. Tongue licking into your mouth, he increases pressure until you begin to lean back further and further until you’re lying flat against the blanket. Your lips part for a few seconds and Jungkook looks down at you, watches you breathe slightly heavily, hair splayed out beneath you, lips swollen with his kiss. He has half a mind to quickly check your surroundings, thankful that he’d picked a secluded spot behind a large tree, before he plants his mouth on yours once again.
He doesn’t put his weight on top of you and instead leans on one elbow placed strategically near your head, caging you in, leaning over you as he steals endless kisses from your already breathless mouth. His hand, inked with black tattoos, trails down your arm, fingertips subtly brushing over your skin and bringing goosebumps to its surface. It travels down until he reaches your hand that he takes in his larger one, bringing it up to pin it down next to your head, fingers intertwining with yours once again.
You hum into the kiss once again, basking in the way he feels around you. Almost completely covering you with his body, presence looming over yours and hiding you from the world. It feels nice and comforting and hot and sexy all at once. Your other hand itches to move, free from confinement, and you bring it up to his chest, solid yet pliant. Your fingers curl into a grip and you pull him closer to kiss you harder. God, you’ve never felt so much from just a single kiss.
“Mmm-__-” he mumbles in between heavy kisses. His usually mellow voice is deeper now, laced with desire that you’re just now witnessing for the first time. “Mhmph-baby...” He mutters for the second time, unable to hold himself back from biting into your pouty bottom lip when he felt your hand grip his hair for the first time.
The sound of kids, not too close yet not too far away suddenly brings you to your senses as your lips begin to slow down their pace, little by little until his mouth is barely just resting over yours, warm breaths continuing to mix together.
Your eyes peel open to find his already staring at you, studying your face up close for a couple of seconds. Your fingers absentmindedly twirl strands of hair around and around, his thumb strokes your hand that he still grips firmly before you both break out into smiles at how this had transpired. He tenderly pecks your lips twice before sitting up slightly, and you follow along, looking around to see if there was anyone too close nearby, relieved to see only three kids significantly far away from your spot.
You talk more. This time he listens while you speak. You spill all your details from dropping out of college because of too much pressure, too many past-due tuition fees, and not enough control over your life. He listens carefully all the while he appreciates your presence near him for the first time. He scoots closer as you talk about how hard that last year was for you, scoops your hand into his larger one as you rant about how Hoseok had been incredibly supportive in all the time you’ve known him. He plays with your hair and gently leans forward to kiss the top of your head when you tell him about not having a place to stay for a while, and Hoseok had so kindly offered his place for you. You talk and talk and he listens just as you did for him, getting gradually closer to you until he had you wrapped up in his arms once again, lying on the blanket and chatting quietly amongst yourselves, in your own little world.
Hoseok immediately takes notice because you just happen to be stepping out of Jungkook’s car for work after he had offered that he would drive you. As soon as he sees the two of you, his eyes light up as he saunters over with a bright smile.
“Ah, Jungkookie,” he nudges you and you only blush and roll your eyes at him, looking to Jungkook who chuckles but you can see the pink tint to his cheeks.
“Taking care of our princess is something you take very seriously, huh? I can see that,” Hoseok teases and you push him away with a groan as you practically stomp your way inside, only hearing Hoseok’s loud laugh echoing behind you.
The next date he takes you on is a week later and he simply takes you to dinner. You’re happy because after last time, sitting together and just talking, you were looking forward to be with him more. Alone.
He shocks you that night when he actually wears a black button up instead of his usual casual attire. He looked fucking hot. Sleeves rolled up, tattoos on show, hair actually combed back; your knees nearly buckled beneath you when you saw him leaning against his car as he waited for you to come down. He looked like the man of your dreams as he flashed you the biggest grin and opened the passenger door for you, but not before leaning down and planting a kiss on your cheek. 
He looked tall and big, bigger than usual for some reason, or maybe that was just because of the way he had you pressed up against the side of his car after parking by your apartment building after your date. Dinner went smoothly, as you expected. And you knew it would end with a goodnight kiss with the way he kept looking at your lips, stained pink with your favorite lipstick that had now made its way over to his lips that were just as pink and shiny as yours now.
“I really like kissing you,” he murmurs against your lips, repeatedly placing kiss after kiss to your breathless lips. You grab onto his broad shoulders, so large and wide they shielded you from the world behind him, from everything around you.
“You’re so pretty,” he whispers before licking into your mouth and you hum, pleased with his deep, addictive kisses.
You part ways with flushed faces and dumb smiles, hair just slightly ruffled and messy from your embrace.
The next few dates feel like heaven. Being with him, near him, talking to him, it all added something to your life that you never aware you wanted. You never had a constant in your life, someone like this. Someone who would sigh over the phone and ask you why you’re still up so late but continue to entertain you nonetheless despite the scolding. Someone who reaches in the backseat and places a bag in your lap and tells you with a bashful tone that he had gotten you something, and that something turns out to pretty blue key chain in the shape of a cat because you had mentioned one time over the phone how you kept losing your keys and that having one would make them more noticeable. Someone who begins keeping an extra jacket or sweater in his car for you because the weather was getting colder and you haven’t begun wearing jackets yet so he had to do it himself. Someone who brought his charger with him to work because you always forgot to charge your phone and would complain about it on the way home. Someone who took care of you and tended to your needs so carefully.
It’s about a month later and everything was going perfect. He was perfect. You’ve never felt so comfortable, in sync, or safe with anyone before. Countless days and nights of talking on the phone, texting, drives home that some nights turned into later dinners at a nearby 24 hour diner, cute dates that your highschool self would gush and blush about.
It’s a slow night, not much going on. Hoseok was handling most of the drinks tonight though since you could feel a light headache forming and it was beginning to annoy you.
In walked Im Jaebum after months of not stepping foot in here back when Jungkook kicked him and his friends out. Your eyes immediately snap to Jungkook because you know he’s got his eyes on him already, and you’re right when you see his eyes follow Jaebum’s every move and step as he gets closer to the bar. He’s alone tonight, walking slowly but surely towards the bar stool at your end of the bar and plopping down without a word. His usual greasy smile isn’t there, his face is grim and quiet, but you figure that that’s a good thing and you walk over to get his order, and that’s all you get. No wink, no trashy compliment, and you feel slightly relieved at that.
Unfortunately, a small fight between two drunk guys broke out because - yes, you guessed it - one guy was flirting with the other’s girlfriend. Your headache got worse with all the loud music and the shouting and you walked over to Hoseok.
“Do you have some painkillers with you in the back?” You ask in his ear, and he’s quick to nod, looking at you with a worried expression, and you gesture to your head with a wince.
“They’re in the front pocket of my bag. Take some and get some air, I can handle it for a bit,” he ushers you away after you give him a grateful smile.
Jungkook enters once again after taking care of the two guys’ problem, eyes unconsciously seeking yours just because it was practically second nature for him by now. He’s staring at the bar, confused because for the first time, you’re not there, serving drinks with a smile. It’s only Hoseok up there and he scratches his head, pondering on where you would be right now.
Well, you had gone out back for a quick breather after taking some painkillers from where Hoseok had them stashed, enjoying the chilly night air in the ally that one of the backdoors led to. Just as you were about to push off the wall and make your way back inside because it didn’t sit right with you to sit out here while Hoseok did all the work, even though you knew he wouldn’t even mind you heading home right now, the door swings open and out he walks, eyes landing on your figure as if he knew you would be here.
“__,” he says, and the greasy smirk that you had been previously been so glad was nowhere to be seen on his face tonight, had once again made its presence known and you couldn’t be less pleased with that fact.
“What are you doing here?” You immediately question. “This door is for employees only-”
“Why do you think I’m here, __?” He asks as he steps closer and you immediately take a larger step back. This isn’t right. This is making your stomach feel queasy and you really want to leave right this second.
“I don’t know and I don’t wanna know,” you deadpan with a stern tone. “Now, excuse me, I have to go back to work-”
“Wait,” he stretches an arm out and steps sideways before you could reach the door and you immediately back away from him. “You know why I’m here, __. Come on, can we stop playing games?”
“Excuse me?” You ask in a genuinely confused tone. Games? What games? This man doesn’t even know you. Does he really think you’re playing games with him?
“You think I come to this shit place because I just like it here?” He steps closer and you once again step back, looking at the door behind him, mentally planning how you’re about to push him out of the way and make your way back inside. “You I would come here if it weren’t for the hot bartender who’s trying to play hard to get with me?”
“God, you’re such a piece of shit-” 
You’re just about to push him and maybe knee him in the dick before the door behind the two of you to reveal a - a seething Jungkook.
If it weren’t for the fight that had broken out just prior to you leaving, Jungkook would’ve seen Jaebum watch you walk away and get up a couple of minutes later and you wouldn’t have had to exchange a single word with him, but it just so happened that he had been distracted. However, it only took him a couple of minutes to finally notice that the man he’d previously been watching the most the entire night wasn’t in the place he was seated at, and he couldn’t have moved faster as he began his search for you. With each passing second, his breath got heavier, his hands clenched into rock hard fists as if ready to punch the man any second now. He was practically seeing red by the time he reached the back door, his last resort.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
Jaebum is practically lifted off the ground when Jungkook grabs him by his clothes and pushes him back. You watch, eyes wide, as the usually shy and relaxed guy who blushed everytime Hoseok teased him about him just getting this job to stare at you all night, who was mentally psyching himself up before asking you out for the first time that one night, who twirled strands of your hair around his finger oh so delicately when you would at times stay a couple of minutes in his car to chat, that same guy was growling at the man who appeared to be smaller than him with the way Jungkook was crowding into his space.
For some odd reason, any previous thoughts of Jaebum were completely erased from your mind, wiped out. And all you could think about was your boyfriend. Your boyfriend who you absolutely adored, who was now on the verge of beating up this prick for you, and who looked fucking hot while doing it.
“Do you just go around harassing women? Is that how you waste your worthless time?” Jungkook shakes him as he practically yells those words at him before pushing him aggressively into the cold wall behind him. He stumbles and catches himself before falling.
You’re silent before you look at Jungkook and he looks back at you, fire inside his eyes more tame now as he tries to detect any damage that was done even though he got here before Jaebum could even consider getting close to you. He steps towards you and cups your face, about to say something before he gets interrupted.
“Fuck you, man. And fuck her. I don’t want a stuck up bitch like that anyways-”
Jungkook’s eyes flash at the first word that meets his ears, jaw ticking, brows furrowed in annoyance because clearly just shaking him up a little bit wasn’t enough, and before he could utter another word, Jungkook lands a solid punch to his cheeks that shuts him right up. You gasp in surprise.
“Get the fuck out of here,” Jungkook spits at him. “If I ever see you around here, or around her ever again, I’ll knock your teeth out.”
You reach for his hand and pull him towards the door, and he keeps looking at the guy who’s stumbling away into the alley until the door is finally closed and his eyes travel to you.
“He didn’t touch you, did he? You’re okay? If he did I swear I’ll go back out there and-”
“I’m fine,” you assure and cup his faced between your palms to calm him down. You bring his face close to yours and lock eyes with him. His breathing is a bit heavy and his fists are still clenched, so you release his face in favor of holding them in your smaller ones, unfurling the tight grip and intertwining your fingers with his. Visibly relaxing at being so close to you, he sighs heavily and leans forward a bit more to nudge your nose with his.
“I’m fine,” you repeat once again, voice lower. “And I’m glad you’re here.”
The way you say it, it could be perceived in referring both to the current situation, and just having him here in general. And he knows that.
“I’ll always be here,” he murmurs and can’t help but press a kiss to your lips, one that, for some reason tonight, immediately ignites a fiery fire of need inside you. You don’t know why, it could be because you’ve been wanting this since the first time you tasted his lips, it could be the fact that he was the most attractive man you’d ever laid your eyes one, or it could be because your boyfriend was the sweetest man and he treated you with so much care that your body ached for more of his attention; a different kind of care and attention.
It was almost closing time anyway, you think to yourself as you climbed across the console and situated yourself to straddle him the second he shut off the engine, a position you’d been in before. 
You’ll explain to Hoseok later, you think to yourself, fingers digging into his hair as he kissed down your neck and collarbones, large palms running up and down your back. 
Hoseok will definitely understand the situation, you think to yourself as your head falls back and your eyes flutter shut when he begins to suck and nibble on the column of your neck, mouthing at your throat and covering your skin in heated kisses as his strong arms wrapped around your torso and pressed your smaller frame up against his large one.
“Guk,” you whisper, dazed and breathy. He hums against your skin. Your hips push down, something you very rarely go as far as to do, but you can’t stop yourself. You want this. You want him so bad. He groans into your neck.
“Stop, stop,” you mumble, pushing weakly at his chest, to which he immediately complies. Lips parted, hair ruffled and falling over his eyes in the sexiest way, he looks up at you.
“Do you wanna come upstairs?”
Your apartment is dark but you don’t care enough to turn on any lights as you stumble in, lips locked and bodies intertwined. He pushes you up against the nearest wall, pressing his body up against yours, trapping you against him as he pulls away for a second.
“Where’s your bedroom, baby?” He asks but he’s already once again distracted with planting hot kisses down your neck, hands moving down your body, rough hands gaining confidence as you push closer to him and respond to his subtle touches.
“Down the hall,” you gasp when he bites into your skin. “Door on the left.”
You reach there in record time before he finally loses patience and grips your thighs at the door, signaling you to hold onto him. Muscles tensing, he lifts you up and carries you the rest of the way all the while you feel yourself getting warm at his show of strength.
He places you down on the mattress gently before he slips of his jacket and throws it away somewhere, not bothering to aim where it lands because his eyes are fixated on the way you scoot back on the bed and await for him to join you. And join you, he does, climbing up the bed and over your body, eyes dark and strands of hair cascading down his face, a hungry expression written all over his face. 
He doesn’t kiss you. His arms, you can see them bulging through your peripheral vision, hold him up above you as he stares down at the way you’re sprawled out beneath him. Your shirt is riding up slightly, some bare skin revealed to his dark eyes. Your chest moves up and down with each deep breath you take in.Your dainty hands are fiddling with the hem of his shirt, eyes blinking up at him as you anxiously await his next move.
“Pretty,” he comments and brings one hand to brush back some hair before burying his hand in your hair and gripping firmly to expose your neck to him. You gasp out, enjoying the pressure you feel in your skull and he takes notice, chuckling lowly before kissing down your neck and collarbones.
“I wanna make you feel good, baby,” he groans into your skin. One of his hands goes down to your hip and bunches the shirt up in his palm, and the skin burns in the best way where he brushes against you. His knees gently nudge your legs apart to settle further between your thighs and you willingly allow him more room, hands reaching for his back and scrunching up the material between your fingers.
“Wanna make you moan,” he whispers. Your eyes flutter shut as his fingers gingerly push your shirt further and further up until it reached just below your breasts. The tips of his fingers brush against the bottom of your bra and your arch your back, craving more than the gentle touches he’s currently giving you. He gets the hint and lifts the shirt up until your bra clad breasts are exposed to him and he continues kissing down your collarbone to litter your kisses to the newly exposed skin.
“Yes,” you gasp, giving him the okay.
“Make you scream,” he continues. With a slip of his finger, he brings one of the cups down and takes your nipple into his mouth, lavishing it with attention and running his tongue over it until it hardened completely.
“Yes, Guk,” you whimper. The hand still placed in your hair seems to tighten at the sound of his name.
“Even the sounds you make are pretty,” he chuckles against your breast, hot breath hitting your skin with every word. You flush at his compliments, but you don’t have much time to be shy about it before he pulls away from you to sit up on his knees between your legs. Large palms stroke your thighs, warming them up with his touch. He looks into your eyes as he does this, mouth curled up at one side, the most devilish smile as he reaches for the hem of your pants and fiddles with the button there.
“You sure about this, baby?” He asks, eyes trailing up and down your body hungrily, biting his lip. The sight has you even more excited. “I can be a bit...intense.”
Your core heats at the implications of what that could mean and god you wanna find out. You find yourself nodding eagerly, hips lifting a bit to show your approval.
“I am,” you assure.
Before you knew it, your pants were being tugged off your legs as you sat back against the pillows, legs spread for him. Panties still on, you placed a hand on his when he made a move to remove them as well causing him to look up at you.
“Can you take your shirt off?” You ask a bit shyly, to which he chuckles and shakes his head at you.
You never thought someone could look so sexy taking their shirt off, but the second he reached for his back to tug it off, you knew you were done for. The material slid off so smoothly and effortlessly, caressing the golden skin that was being exposed inch by inch, looking so soft and warm to the touch. It ruffled his hair and got it all messy when it reached his head, before it was completely off and he threw it away. The muscles in his torso rippled with every move he made, sculpted so beautifully you were mesmerized with every little dip and bump his torso had. What caught your eye the most were the several tattoos inked across his right arm and shoulder.
He was absolutely gorgeous.
You took him all in and couldn’t help but reach to touch him, and he leans forward to allow your fingertips to glide across his chest and up his shoulders, while his hands get busy lifting up your own shirt that was still half way up.
You let him take your shirt off in a daze, still entranced with his body because he just seemed so...large. He was pretty buff, you already knew that, but now with the way he was leaning over you and trailing one hand down your abdomen to your panties, staring you down with almost black with lust eyes, he seemed fucking huge.
Arousal gathered in your panties at the thought.
You didn’t really know why. This didn’t usually get you this worked up. Maybe it was the events of tonight, or the events of the past couple of months, of Jeon Jungkook being the most gentlemanly any man could ever be while still having the ability to flip the switch and snap someone in two if he wanted to. 
Or maybe it simply was the fact that you were attracted to him on so many different levels. Aside from the fact that Jungkook appeared to be a man sculpted like gods, from the top of his head all the way down to his toes, the past few months with him had been nothing short of surreal. From the little things that showed how much he looked after you, down to the way he kissed you so lovingly every single time, as if pouring out his emotions to you with the way he did it.
“Fuck,” you pant out when he slips his hand beneath your panties and gathers your wetness on his fingers. You press your lips together as his fingers begin exploring.
“So wet already,” he hums, placing a kiss to your cleavage before hastily making his way down your body. He looks up at you for a beat, removing his hand from your panties before gripping both sides and slowly sliding the material down until they reached your ankles, where you kick them away at once.
Shuffling can be heard as he situates himself between your legs and you spread them open for him. You don’t dare look down as you expose yourself to him, opting to stare up at the white ceiling, but you hear a pleased sound coming from down there before short kisses are being littered all across your inner thighs. You continue to stare up, breathing pace increasing, faster with each second as he kisses and nips at the sensitive skin, getting closer to your growing wetness with each peck.
“How do you like it?” The question is muffled into your skin. He kisses your lips once, gently, as if he was kissing any other more innocent part of you.
“Hmm?” You hum distractedly, looking down questioningly.
“How do you like it, baby?” He repeats the question and kisses your pussy once more, and your breath hitches as he makes eye contact. His tongue slithers out for a swift lick. “Fast? Slow?” He licks a long stripe up your lips and you shutter, fingers already gripping the sheets to ready yourself. “Messy?”
“Jungkook,” you gasp because he’s already licking into you and humming in satisfaction.
“You better tell me before I just go with whatever I want,” he warns jokingly. He shifts slightly and situates himself better, elbows digging into the the mattress. 
"I-I like it fast,” you breathe out because he’s already mouthing at your center. “And m-messy-shit-”
He delivers what you request without hesitation, tongue beginning to lave at your wet hole, creating a kind of friction that you immediately begin to tense up at. You gasp at the ceiling. Tongue wiggling and lapping at every drop of your essence, you think you can hear him breathe you in deeply and it causes more of your wetness to gush out. It’s incredible, you didn’t expect the onslaught of sensations you were currently experiencing to come so fast, but he already has you building up a sweat with the way he stiffens his tongue and pokes at your hole.
“Shit-J-Jungkook I-” you whimper. He hums right into your pussy. Sloppy noises of sucking and licking travel through the air and if anyone were to hear, they would probably be turned off but you feel anything but. The way he opens his mouth and spreads your lips with two sets of fingers either side to open you up for him. The heat of his mouth fully encasing you, sucking and flicking his tongue at your clit. It breaks your voice and your eyes roll back as your back arches.
“Oh god fuck! Jungkook! Jungkook!” His name is repeated several times, broken little cries and small whimpers reaching his ears. His palms are stroking your thighs, moving higher and higher up and past your tummy. “Oh-oh god!”
His palms reach your breasts and he takes them in his hands, kneading and squeezing. Your head digs into the mattress and your back arches into his touch. Sweat beads build at your temples and you feel so hot all over, like you’re going to explode, most of the heat centered at your core where Jungkook is suddenly moving his head side to side, tongue movement switching up. “F-fuck. Fuckfuckfuck-”
Fingers squeeze at your breasts harder. “Take it-hmph-off.” He’s spewing the words into your cunt and you almost don’t hear them but he pats your chest twice, too busy eating you up to focus on taking it off himself. Hastily, with shaky hands. your lift your back and yank the restraining material, sensitive nipples now exposed to his deft fingers.
You look down and whimper weakly at the sight. Hair falling over his face, tongue pressed into your wetness and full lips sucking your clit into his mouth. “Oh god! Like that-”
“Like that?” He repeats and sucks again.
“Yes! Yes yes yes-” You cry out repeatedly.
His tongue stiffens again and he wiggles it inside your pussy. You gasp, choked moan escaping your lips. Shocks of pleasure shoot through you. Your fingers scramble to grip at the messy sheets.
“Ngh-I’m-I’m gonna-”
“Cum.” He says one word. Both hands leave your breasts and shoot down to your ass, gripping the flesh tightly and bring you closer to his mouth, widening it until he covers your entire pussy and sucks noisily, slurping up your wetness.
“Fuck! Fuck Jung-Jungkook I-oh god I’m gonna-oh! Oh don’t stop!” You’re spewing out so many random words, high pitched and sounding the filthiest you’ve ever felt, body buzzing with so much pleasure and ecstasy as you feel your orgasm overtake you. “Don’tstop-please please please Jungkook-” His name is whined out and he enjoys your sounds more than anything, licking you through your orgasm until your body twitches and you weak fingers push at him weakly.
“Guk,” you whimper.
He doesn’t stop.
“Shit Guk,” you whine again and he pulls away. His mouth and chin are soaked, cheeks flushed, hair slightly damp with sweat and strands falling across his face.
“Fuck,” he whispers, staring at you for a second, looking completely fucked out and he hasn’t even pulled his cock out yet. Your chest is heaving and your eyes are droopy and - you look absolutely fuckable.
His movements are a blue in front of your eyes, but you watch hazily as he leans back and slips off his boxers, his eyes never once leaving you. They travel up and down your body, sweaty and flushed, legs spread and exposed for him, and he’s already planning in his head all the different ways he wants to have his ways with you if you let him.
Your gasp can be heard clearly in the quiet of the room, and his eyes shoot up to catch what you’re so surprised about, and true to his assumption, your eyes are glued to his cock that’s now wrapped in his slender fingers. He feels something swell in his core, and he doesn’t know if it’s pride at the way you’re taking him in with a mouth agape and flushed cheeks.
A trickle of wetness, you feel it building up and slipping out as you stare unabashedly.
It’s pretty. You’ve never described a dick as pretty, but it really was. Oh, and it was big. Big would be an understatement, it was huge. It made even his enormous hands look normal sized, even smaller maybe. Long, thick and curved at the tip. That little curve had your pussy clenching, and you’re gulping down a whimper harshly. The sight of him kneeling there is so erotic, and to make things worse, as if he knows your body was a bit too much for you to handle or comprehend, he raises a muscly arm and pushes his hair back from his face and looks at you with the most seductive look you’ve ever been subjected to, cock still in hand as he utters his next words.
“You gonna let me fuck you now, baby?” His voice is a bit hoarse, deeper than before, tone laced with pure desire.
You nod, legs spreading even wider than they already were, bottom lip pulled back beneath your teeth. He chuckles and leans forward, hand abandoning his cock and coming to rest beside your head as he leans over top of your body, face now right above yours.
“Words, baby,” he tells you. The other hand trails up your body, from your thigh, to your abdomen, to your breasts where he grazes his nail against your nipple, and the skin immediately pebbles up at the sultry touch. “You need to tell me what you want,” he squeezes your nipple ever so slightly before he releases it, continuing his path up and resting an open palm over your chest, across your collarbones, fingers laying right at the base of your neck. “What you like.” It’s not really a squeeze, but you feel the smallest bit of pressure there and you immediately gasp, thighs clenching but being blocked by his large build, and he notices your reaction. His hand slithers further up until his fingertips tap at your mouth, eyes locked with yours, eyebrows twitching up and lips curling into a sinister smile. “Just need you to tell me, baby.”
He watches, satisfied as you part your lips for his fingers to enter, and he slithers in two.  Knuckle deep, your flick your tongue over the digits and coat them with your spit as you would his pretty cock, and his cock twitches at the filthy act. You suck and wrap your lips around them, doing the most, and he slides them further inside your mouth, lips parting slightly as his breath got heavy at the sight. You kept looking at him the entire time, eyes blinking up at him to take in his every reaction.
“Jesus, __,” he groans. He slips them out and attacks your mouth with a hungry kiss, hand slipping between your bodies and going straight for your pussy. You squeal into his mouth and his tongue immediately slides in as his now soaked fingers fuck into you.
“Hmph-Jungkook!” His name is muffled as his fingers begin thrusting in and out, not giving you a second to breathe properly, mouth ravishing yours with kisses so deep it felt like he was trying to swallow you whole. Hands reaching for his back and shoulders, hips writhing beneath the strength of his body, your head pushes back and away from his mouth, a string of spit connecting your lips and it only breaks when he licks his lips hungrily at the sight of you.
“Yeah?” He moves his fingers harder and your body jolts. “Like that? Tell me, baby.”
“Yes! Yeah,” you whine. Your body thrashes and your head turns to the side as you gasp and pant. He can’t help it, leaning in and running his nose all across your neck and up to your cheeks, teeth nipping at whatever skin he can reach. He can’t get enough of you and you can hear it in the way he breathes heavily and groans out your name.
“Your pussy’s so wet, baby,” he grunts, going faster and faster. “Will you let me fuck you? Will you let me fuck you hard?” He’s groaning but it also sounds like he’s begging, desperate for you to allow him to take you like he wants.
“Yes! Y-yes! Jung-Jungkook pleaseplease-” Your voice is high and it sounds like you’re squealing and he can’t wait to hear what you sound like when he finally has his cock buried in your cunt. “Jungkook! Ohgod fuck me-”
His fingers leave you and he’s lifting his body up from yours, and you can’t help the whine that leaves you. But he’s situating himself between your thighs once again and looking up at you with a wink, and for a second you’re about to question his intentions when he purses his lips and allows a trail of spit to cover your pussy, and the second it connects with you, you’re moaning out loudly.
“You said you liked it messy,” he explain deviously, knees now placed beneath your ass as he finally begins lining his cock up with your entrance. You’re quick to look down, entranced by the sight of the large head rubbing up and down your wetness mixed with his spit, a shiny sheet now coating the sensitive skin. You press your lips together, head spinning with excitement and slight nervousness because it looks so fucking big now that you see it there.
“If I go too fast,” he warns, tip now slowly pushing in. “Or too rough,” his tone is a bit more breathy now, choked back. “You have to tell me.”
You gasp, nodding hastily, but you can’t imagine ever telling him to stop. Nothing he’s done so far has felt too much for you, and you can’t imagine anything involving him not feeling good for you, especially with the way his cock now feels gliding inside you and slowly making you feel full.
“I don’t wanna hurt you, __,” he grunts, halfway in. He’s biting at his lip, brows furrowed, tonguing pushing against his cheek. He takes a deep breath and looks up at you, hands now gripping your thighs, pausing his hips from moving further. “You have to tell me-”
“Jungkook,” you whine, hips bucking and both your moans resonate into the atmosphere as he buckles over, hands releasing your thighs in favor of holding himself up, fists clenched so tightly his veins started popping as they dug into the mattress either side of your torso. He huffs, dark eyes looking up at you through hooded lids, an almost predatory gaze hiding somewhere in there. He looked intimidating but in the best way possible, and you found yourself rolling your hips again. The furrow in his brows gets deeper.
“I don’t want you to hold back,” you plead. “Fuck me. Hard.” You stress on the last word with a whine. The chuckle that leaves his lips almost sounds dark in a way-
“Fuck,” you heave, breath knocked out of you when he pulls his hips back and thrusts back in, not even all the way, but it still has you struggling to breathe.
“You like it rough?” He grunts through heavy breaths, sliding in further and further until you were completely connected and his abdomen connected with yours.
“Ye-fuck!” You squeal out. Hips pulling back and slamming back in, he watches with ravenous eyes the way you tremble beneath him. He does it again, and again, and again, slowly and pausing between each thrust, but each one just as hard the previous.
“I-I-” You stutter out but can’t manage to formulate a single thought because his pace suddenly picks up and you’re left with no resort but to pant and moan out your pleasure. He’d prepped you so well his cock moved inside you so easily, your wetness coating him so nicely, and he only felt you getting wetter every time he filled you to the brim.
“You want me to fuck you? I’ll fuck you, baby.” He’s sitting back on his haunches, powerful thighs supporting yours, before he sets a brutal pace that brings a loud yelp to escape you, It feels so intense, the way he bucks skillful hips into yours and slams into you so hard it feels like it would border on painful, but it doesn’t. It felt so good. 
He fulfills his promise. Moans, whimpers, squeals, all sorts of pleasured sounds leave your lips repeatedly. His cock reaches so deep inside you one second, and he’s pulling all the way out in the next before once again repeating the motions. “Ngh-Jungkook. Jungkook! Fuck-”
“Oh fuck baby,” he moans loudly and it sounds so beautiful you want to hear it over and over again. You look up at the sweaty man above you, looking like the most sinful vision. His hair is wet now, a couple of strands dripping with sweat, droplets trailing down his temple, some down his jaw and jaw. His neck, god if you could bite it, it looked so thick and delicious, his adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows thickly. His torso looked even more defined, every single muscle straining and pulling to fuck into you with all his might. What looked most beautiful to you were his arms, veins popping, tattoos clear even in the dim lighting of the bedroom. His hands, big as ever, gripped your thighs so tight his knuckles turned white. He gripped them even tighter for leverage and pulled you closer the same time he pushed hard-
“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck-” your hands scramble to grab onto something, only finding purchase in the soft sheets that did nothing to anchor you against his ruthless movements. “Jungkook! J-Jungkook baby!”
“You sound so fucking pretty baby,” he grunts. He stares down at his cock and the way it splits you open so prettily, your lips spread around him and the sight was so erotic to him, he threw his head back with a prolonged groan before he leaned forward. He grips your thighs and tugs you down on the bed, placing you in the position he wants and your pussy clenches from that simple action alone
“Even you pussy sounds pretty,” he comments, throwing your thighs into the crook of his elbows, anchoring both hands on the mattress and moving so that you body almost bent in half beneath him. “Hear that?” He pulls all the way out and slams back in so hard his hips smack against your ass loudly, The sound your pussy makes when his cock slips all the way in; wet, it’s loud and clear and it brings a flush to your cheeks, though it hardly shows since you were already red with heat. “So wet.”
The new position makes the sensations double, your thighs burning with how far they were spread but you can’t even begin to care with how he begins to furiously drill his cock into you over and over. Body being fucked into the mattress, mewls and screams of agonizing pleasure escape you, completely losing any sense of control you thought you ever had. He looked like sin embodied, bottom lip tugged beneath his teeth, half-lidded eyes, drenched dark hair swinging with every move, sticking to his flushed cheeks.
Your hands shakily reach up to wrap around his neck, one of them pushing some hair back from his face. Fingernails dig into the back of his neck at a particularly deep thrust, eyes rolling back.
“Oh! Oh god! Jung-Jungkookjungkookjungkook-” His name is a repeated mantra along with hoarse cries and wails. The sheets are damp with sweat beneath you, your body being jostled up and down over top of them with harsh movements that Jungkook  doesn’t hold back from anymore.
“Fuck! Your pussy’s so good baby. So wet-” He slows and grinds down against you. Toes curling, back arching, head pushing back into the pillows, your hands slip down his drenched torso across his pecks and settling on his abs, scratching the tensed muscles there as a broken sob leaves your lips.
“Ohgod- oh god- oh fuck! Jungkook please I’m- so good! So fucking good-”
Your desperate rambling excites him and he pushes deeper, and your ears don’t miss the filthy squelch that resonates when grinds his cock into your cunt. You involuntarily clench and he grunts in response. He keeps that way for a couple of seconds, grinding against you, his pubic bone pressing into just the right place to make you see stars.
He slips your thighs down and helps you wrap them around his slender waist before he wastes no time setting the quick pace once again. Hips smacking together loudly, grunts, groans, curses, squeals, they clash together like your bodies do, connected so deeply as he leans down and covers your body completely with his. You look up through hazy vision at his large frame working on top of yours so viciously, blocking everything from around you, not suffocating you but giving you a sense of warmth that has you wrapping your arms around his back and hugging him closely to your body.
Bodies now glued together, his hips swivel as best as they can up into yours, digging so deep, going faster and faster, harder and harder until your moans are quick and chopped up and your hands are slipping down his sweaty, broad back.
“Fuckfuck- Jungkook! Jungkook! Ohgod- oh! Oh!” You cry out. Your legs begin to fall from around him and your feet kick out against the sheets, back arching so high your breasts pressed firmly into his chest. You felt so close to him. His cheek rubs against yours with every thrust, his mouth sucking your earlobe into his mouth and nibbling on it. You turn your head towards him, eyes fluttering shut, taking in every single sliver of pleasure he brought you.
“I’m gonna cum- shit Jungkook pleaseplease- I’m cumming!” You cry out. It’s there. It’s right there. You feel it spreading.
“Fucking-fuck baby. Yeah,” he grunts and pushes harder. You choke on a sob. There are tears in your eyes. “Squeeze my cock. You’re so good. Cum on my cock, baby. That’s it.”
You don’t know if your hands are pulling him closer or pushing him away but he fucks you through it nonetheless, sloppy sounds of his cock drenched in your cum lewd and so loud but you could care less. You’re in heaven. You’re crying out, shouting his name in complete ecstasy and squirming in his hold as he grips your hips so tight they could bruise, pushing in deep and giving you quick shallow thrusts.
“I’m cumming. Fuck I’m cumming, baby,” he groans. His head is hidden in your neck, groaning and grunting into your clammy skin and giving you his all, knees digging into the mattress as he gives three deep thrusts as hard as he can. Your mouth drops open, no sounds coming out, breath cut short. One hand goes to your hair, gripping so tight as he finally lets go, spurts of warm cum filling you up.
The quiet that takes place after is deafening. It’s so loud after all the intensity you had just experienced. Neither of you move an inch away from each other, no, you pull him closer as you feel a drip of his cum leak out. Your hands lazily and gently caress his back. His lips, glued to one spot on your neck, pucker up and continuously place kisses. You’re both sighing dreamily as you relax further into one another and let your bodies relax after so much exertion before he finally lifts his head up just enough to face you.
No words are exchanged but a kiss takes place, slow, sweet, bringing back those butterflies you always have whenever he’s with you and he pulls away with that same shy, stupid smile of his. After all that, he’s still smiling at you like this, and you do nothing but giggle and stroke his hair away from his face.
A while later, after lying together and kissing on each other more, he suggests a shower with an innocent smile that makes you think he really was too tired to try anything else after all that. But you seem to forgot that Jungkook wasn’t this built for nothing and he actually has incredible stamina. Which is why, not even five minutes into the shower, he’s pushing you over the small handle bar and telling you to hold on tight as he spread your legs apart with a nudge of his knees.
He fucks you hard because he knows that’s how you want it. He pulls your hair and tugs you back against his firm chest and whispers the filthiest things in your ear.
“You’re so fucking dirty, baby.”
“You just wanna be fucked hard, huh?”
“Your pussy’s so tight, so warm, perfect for my cock.”
You only ever answer with broken sobs and pitiful moans. The shower is filled with sounds of your bodies colliding together and his harsh grunts that serve to weaken your knees even further until he has to practically hold you up himself. A task he easily does and that makes you even weaker for him.
You cum with hoarse cries, head dropping back against his shoulder as he runs both hands up your front and cups your breasts firmly, hips still slamming against your ass in chase of his own high that he reaches in no time.
He helps you out of the shower with a gentle peck to the tip of your nose as you smile up at him in a daze. He pats you dry with a towel and dabs at your hair to get any excess water out and you continue to stare up at him, entranced.
He looks so pretty. Eyes wide and focused on getting you dry, hair dripping down his face and neck. So different from the man who was just fucking you into next week a couple of minutes ago in the shower. No, this man smiles cutely down at you and giggles when you kiss his chin as he leans down further to dry your thighs. You kiss on his chest, admiring the tattoos scattered from his shoulder and down to his arm and hand. You kiss on him more and he sighs at the feeling, but he doesn’t expect you to push him away to rest his behind against the counter before swiftly dropping down to your knees in front of him.
The bathroom soon fills with his low moans and groans, backed with soft sounds of your mouth working on his cock. He watches closely as you attempt to swallow him down as much as possible, smaller hands working over the rest.
You look up at him through your lashes and watch as his head drops back and exposes the long column of his neck, the sight somehow getting you aroused once again as you feel wetness begin to gather between your legs. You suck harder, pull off and swirl your tongue deliciously around his cock.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he encourages. His hand pets your hair tenderly before he gathers up some strands behind your head to grip. Your mouth looks so good stuffed full of his cock, lips wrapped so prettily around him. He wants to fuck your mouth so bad, but he thinks he’ll save that for a later time so he can give you more time for it. Instead, he leans back and enjoys the show, compliments and praises continuously leaving his lips as you hum against his cock, pleased with his sounds.
He cums down your throat with a long groan of your name and looks down at you with a breathless chuckle as he helps you up to your feet.
He eats you out again. He does it so good this time there are tears in your eyes by the end of it.
He has you ride him, and you do so with vigor, grappling onto his strong and sturdy shoulders for support as you bounce yourself on his cock.
“Shit, shit, shit,” you gasp time and time again. Sweat drips down your back at the effort. Your thighs burn. His eyes look everywhere at you, your face, your neck, your breasts, your dripping cunt. He leans back on his palms and watches with a satisfied smirk as you fuck yourself on his cock.
“That’s a good girl, baby,” he groans. You pause your bouncing and swivel your hips, grinding against him and he throws his head back. Leaning forward, you lick a strip up his neck hungrily, something you’ve been craving to and he grunts loudly.
He’s sitting up and grabbing your ass, fucking up into your hard, three, four times and it’s enough to have you squealing before he lifts your frail body off of him and places you on the mattress with ease.
“Fuck,” he whispers as he situates you. Ass up in the air, face down on the mattress. “I can’t get enough of you,” he groans, grabbing your ass and unable to stop himself from slamming his palm down harshly, an action that has you jolting forward in surprise. “You’re amazing,” he groans as he slides inside of you once again after sitting on his knees behind you. Whimpers fall freely from your lips because he immediately picked up the pace knowing the both of you were too close already. “I could fuck you forever.”
You squeal as another harsh slap lands on your behind.
“Again. More,” you whimper. Fisting the sheets between your palms, tears that were previously held back now escaping your eyes. It was so much. You loved it. “P-please.”
He spanks you again and again and again, as long as you ask for more, he delivers And he fucks you good while doing it, slamming into you so hard he has to keep you steady with his hands. Hips smacking against your ass, cock drilling you into the mattress, battering your cunt so good.
“F-fuck. Fuck J-Jungkook- so good. Sogood. So good oh god please-”
He goes harder. Faster. He spanks you again and more tears fall from your eyes. You bury your face into the mattress and muffle your uncontrollable crescendo of screams and moans into it as your high crashes over you for the nth time this night.
“Oh god, you’re such a good girl,” he breathes almost in disbelief as you cream his cock, coating it with your essence. Eyes glued to his cock still slamming into you. the sight brings him to his release in a couple of seconds as his hips lose their control and become sloppy.
“Shit. Shit! Fuck, __. Oh baby,” he groans and grunts and makes all sorts of noises, once again filling you with his cum as you sniffle and whimper into the mattress, keeping still for him as he comes down from his high.
The shower you two had taken is practically non-existent by now, and you feel sticky again as he gently pulls out and drops onto the mattress with a tired groan.
Both of you were completely burned out by now.
You slowly lift your face from the mattress to look over at him and he’s already staring at you. His cheeks are red. His hair, still damn from the shower, probably coated in sweat now, is sticking to his forehead. He’s breathing hard. He has the biggest smile on his face, two bunny teeth on full show, eyes crinkling, nose scrunching; the whole deal.
“That was nice,” he comments. You giggle.
“That was really nice,” you add lamely, twisting to lay on your side facing him.
He scoots closer and hugs you to him, sneaking his leg between yours until the two of you were pressed together tightly. He’s humming a tune, barely audible, and you trace patterns up and down his back distractedly.
“I really like you Jungkook,” you admit suddenly and you’re already inwardly shaking your head at how stupid that sounded after the intense couple of hours you two had just experienced.
“I think we’ve already established that a long time ago,” he chuckles and pulls back to look down at you. 
“No, I-” you pause and look down at his chest shyly. Your fingers continue tracing his warm back. “I really, really like you, Jungkook.”
He kind of gets what you’re trying to say and that maybe you’re just not ready to actually word it out. But he knows for sure when you look up at him and into his eyes. He knows.
“Well, I really, really like you too, __,” he repeats, smile getting smaller and his eyes more serious. His fingers push back your hair and he gently strokes your cheek and nudges his nose against yours as your eyes flutter shut at the intimate contact.
“I’ll always be here,” he repeats words that he’s said to you before. Words that you know are true. Because he always was and always will be here. Sure, he came for the job, but eventually, he stayed for you. 
You know, he was your knight in shining armor after all.
11K notes · View notes
jungkxook · 6 months ago
—hot boy bummer. (m)
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⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader 
⟶ genre: fuckboy!jungkook / friends with benefits / friends to lovers + smut  
⟶ words: 14,633
⟶ rating: 18+ 
⟶ summary: when jungkook offers you a proposition of just sex, no strings attached, how can you possibly say no? after all, what are best friends for?
⟶ warnings: kind of a crack fic, sprinkle of angst, way too casual conversations mid-sex, jealous jungkook, slight himbo jungkook tbh (he’s kind of a sweet loveable idiot), he also has a big dick oops, man bun and blonde jungkook to feed my fantasies!, multiple smut scenes!!!, missionary, dry humping, oral sex (m receiving), face fucking, unprotected sex, slight degradation (mostly jungkook hating himself), brief name calling, light choking, sort of praise kink
⟶ note: this was inspired by a number of things but mainly do me by kim petras being on jungkook’s spotify playlist, this tiktok sound, and this tumblr post lol also big thank you to @bratkook​ and @onherwings​ for letting me ramble on about this fic and reigniting my inspo for it 💛
( p.s. i tried to proofread this but if y’all see any typos no u didn’t, thank u <3 )
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Being friends with Jungkook meant a myriad of things but mainly that there were hardly ever any boundaries that stood between you and him.
Having known him for most of your life, it was just a quintessential part of yours and his relationship with one another. From high school parties where you drunkenly spewed on his shoes and in his dad’s car after he tried lugging you home (and taking the fall all himself for your sake) to letting him lose his virginity in your bed to some girl you didn’t know because your parents were out of town and his would crucify him on the spot if they had found out; or him discovering your stash of vibrators in your dorm one day, or seeing each other naked more often than was probably necessary, there was nothing that either of you could do that would phase the other at this point even when it maybe, probably, definitely should.
College, and Jungkook’s sudden six pack of hard rock abs, only seemed to amplify the chaos of your friendship. If you’re being honest, the abs are sort of a plus ━ but they brought an air of fuckboy to him that is undeniably there even if he tries to deny it sometimes. You suppose it isn’t all his fault. Jungkook has always been bold and brash, attractively charming. Considering he’s seemingly made it his mission to sleep with every girl on campus before he graduates (undisclosed, if you’re being honest, because he’s never outwardly admitted it but you have a hunch), his confidence somehow hasn’t failed him yet.
But then there’s one night in which you think to yourself briefly: this surely must draw some sort of line.
“What if we, like, had sex?”
Jungkook says this a little too casually from beside you. He’s sat on the couch in his dorm, scrolling aimlessly on his phone, and you’re sprawled out on the remaining space, feet kicked up in his lap. You’re positive he’s drunk but, then again, so are you. The remnant shot glasses of soju you had both started the night with (though you think Jungkook’s had half the bottle himself), and your second glass of wine, are all evidence of that. You’re so absorbed by some anime Jungkook had been watching upon your arrival and refused to change that you almost don’t hear what he says. Almost. You do, however, nearly choke on the gummy bear you’ve just tossed into your mouth.
After a sudden hysterical fit of coughs, you manage to sputter, “Excuse me?”
“Like, hypothetically speaking.” He hardly budges when you turn to gawk at him, as if he’s asking you something as casual as what to eat for dinner or if you could pass him the T.V. remote. “Except, not really hypothetically.”
“You’re joking, right?” You scoff.
Jungkook blinks. “No. Why would I be joking?”
You blink. The longer you stare at him, the quicker you’re able to discern that there’s some sort of earnesty in his words and it slightly concerns you. Suddenly, you’re warm in the face. To distract from that painfully obvious fact, an incredulous laugh bubbles at your lips and you kick one of your feet at his thighs. “Very funny, Koo. Can we change the show now if you’re not even watching it?”
“I’m not joking, Y/N.” The severity in his tone makes you sit up at once. When you turn to look at him, he flashes you a taunting smirk, though the devious sparkle in his eyes lets you know this seems to be anything but a joke to him. “I’m sure you’ve thought of me naked before.”
“You’re such a fucking idiot━” Okay, so maybe you have thought of him naked before but how is it your fault when you literally have seen him naked before, and he’s so unabashed around you? “Should I bring you to a hospital to get your head checked, or━?”
“Just hear me out━” Now, he pushes himself to the edge of the sofa. “Why are you here right now?”
“In life? Because I honestly have no clue━”
“No, I meant here. Getting drunk in my apartment on a Friday night instead of getting railed.”
“Okay, I didn’t ask to get called out like that,” You grumble stiffly. “And because you’re my best friend, and I like spending time with you.” It’s not entirely a lie, because you would much rather spend time with Jungkook than anyone else. But when you feel his eyes boring into you in a look of scrutiny, your lips form into a pout which you try to hide by puckering them. “Also because boys are stupid and Hoseok’s blind date stood me up. Again.”
The events from hours earlier resurface in your memory, in which you had spent all evening making yourself look pretty for a boy you had only talked to through text that your roommate had introduced you to, only to arrive to the restaurant you were supposed to be meeting at and waiting there for half an hour by yourself before the boy had sent you a message saying something along the lines of “something came up, hope we can reschedule,” filing it under one of the lamest excuses you’ve ever heard because it hardly even borders on a valid excuse. It’s what had ultimately made you storm into Jungkook’s apartment an hour ago, exclaiming aloud as a greeting with a simple yet scarily cheerful I hate men! because Jungkook knows all about your plights with finding a significant other (or even just someone decent enough to open your legs to), usually lamenting men’s inability to have any emotions. Even the ones who you think are respectable enough, who say they’re fine not having sex on the first date, usually tend to flee right after you finally let them in because sex, as you come to find, seems to be all that men care about.
Admittedly, Jungkook is not any different.
“But it’s not like you’re any better.”
This seems to personally offend Jungkook. He looks at you cynically. “Me?”
“Tell me why you’re here with me on a Friday night when you’re literally one of the hottest guys on campus,” You point out. “You can get any girl, and yet you somehow manage to ruin it every single time. Like with Eunha.”
Jungkook winces. The poor Eunha in question is a pretty girl from your chem class, whomst Jungkook had somehow managed to charm. From what you know, they had hooked up a handful of times before that fateful night in which Jungkook had abruptly broken things off with her. If you’re being honest, he’s not a total monster. The only thing that seems to scare him away is when a girl asks to cuddle him in the morning or talks about the prospective future together. He doesn’t want to hurt them, he told you once before, and finds it much easier to nip any potential relationship in the bud before it can get too far, too out of control.
“We literally only slept together three times anyway and we never went out,” Jungkook points out. “What’s the big deal?”
A roll of your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook. “Yeah, it’s not her fault you’re scared of commitment.”
“Nu’uh,” The boy sulks. “I’m only scared of realistic things, like microwaves.”
A snort bubbles at your lips, and it’s frustrating how adorable he finds the simple action. Rather than entertain the thought of his irrational fear of kitchen appliances (because you’ve heard it all before, and you still can’t find where he was incited with the terror of an exploding microwave), you sit up.
“Jungkook, I don’t even like you like that.”
“I don’t like you like that either. That’s why it’s so perfect!” Jungkook says brightly. “Look, we know each other better than anyone else ever could. We’re already comfortable with each other. We don’t have to go through all that boring small talk. All I’m saying is we could give it a try. No relationship, no emotions, just sex.”
You consider the thought for a moment, weigh the pros and cons in your head.
The cons? He’s your best friend.
The pros? He’s your best friend, and he’s hot.
Truthfully, your slightly buzzed mind can find very little to dissuade you away from the inviting proposition and maybe that’s why you begin to entertain the idea. And, sure, you had just complained profusely about how men sometimes only used you for sex, but it’s not like you don’t have needs too. You just don’t have the gusto in you anymore to spend days on a boy who will only just leave you the moment you let him have sex with you. At least with Jungkook, he’s already offering you a blatant deal of sex only and you know you won’t have to worry about him breaking your heart; and he doesn’t have to worry about the dreaded dreamy post-sex cuddle talk of a future family and babies and a white picket-fence home. It’s a win-win for the both of you, really. Or maybe you’re just telling yourself that.
“How would we even start?” You ask finally. “I mean… Do you even find me attractive enough in that way?”
“Yeah.” Jungkook hardly bats a lash. He meets your stare, licks slowly at his lower lip. When he sees the cross look of disbelief scrunching at your face, he hastens to respond. “I’m not blind. You’re fucking drop dead gorgeous, Y/N.”
“But physically attractive? I’m no hot girl Eunha.”
“If I wanted Eunha, I’d be between her legs right now. Y/N, of course I think you’re attractive.” A gentle sliver of a smile dances upon his lips. He leans his head on the back of the couch, eyes fluttering over your appearance shortly. “I’ve always liked your lips, and your eyes. Think they’re beautiful.”
Suddenly, you’re flustered again. The room feels as if it’s getting increasingly warmer, yet you seem to want to bask in the feeling and attention a little longer. “That’s too sentimental.”
“It’s true though.”
“Well, you’re lucky I’ve always had a thing for idiots,” You jest playfully. “Jerks, too. Playboys who are too hot for their own good.”
“Ah, and I love it when you talk dirty to me.” A cheeky grin tugs at his lips as he clutches at his heart over his chest. “It’s a good thing I like it a little too much, knowing you’ll always keep me in check.”
But then the mirth seems to fade from your mind long enough for you to hum aloud pensively, “And I’ve always liked your eyes. I’ve never seen such big eyes before. Sometimes, if I look long enough, it’s like I can see the stars in them.”
As you’re speaking about them, his irises glisten magnificently. He bites at his lip now, as if to hide the way his soft smile turns sheepish. “I like your bum.”
“Really? I always worry it’s too flat.”
“Are you kidding? Your ass is a fucking god-send. It’s hard not to stare when you wear leggings sometimes,” Jungkook admits, earning a small giggle from you. “And I like your boobs. I’ve always wondered…” He trails off abruptly, shaking his head. He shoots you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop. I’m being an idiot, aren’t I?”
“Well, maybe I don’t want you to stop.”
Silence saturates the room now, settling comfortably between the two of you. He wonders what you’re thinking, and you wonder if he can hear your heart hammering against your chest. Perhaps on any other day when you were of sound mind, you could find a plethora of reasons as to why sleeping with your best friend was a terrible idea. But being that you were slightly tipsy, and Jungkook isn’t far off, you can find not one fault, except for maybe how tragically hot Jungkook looks sitting across from you and how he’s never been yours, at least in that way. Would it be so wrong to try just once?
You shift then, pushing yourself to your knees if only so you can worm your way towards him before swinging one leg over his. You settle back on his lap, hands gripping his shoulders. He can feel your core press against the inside of his thigh, just where his dick is nestled and he has to bite back a moan. His eyes are wider than usual, as if believing the moment to be surreal, though something sultry threatens to darken them.
The excitement crackles through your veins like electricity. You’ve never been in such a compromising position with Jungkook before, and you wonder if it should be concerning just how much you’re enjoying it. It almost feels as if time slows down, every second dragging on, yet he can’t look away. His hands come to tug at your hoodie (that he’s almost positive was his once upon a time before you nicked it from his closet) and you meet him part way, replacing his efforts as you pull it up and off your body. Then, you’re sitting back on his lap in your full nude glory, chest bare and right in his face. He eyes the swell of your breasts, the perk of your nipples. Of course you’re not wearing anything beneath your hoodie ━ and, god, he loves it.
“Touch me?”
Your voice comes to him in an almost dream. You reach for his hand then, your palm soft around his knuckles and the tattoos that ink his skin. It’s the same hand of which he wears the other half to your pair of friendship bracelets in one of his favourite colours of red, decorated with little pink hearts. It came in a matching set of two (yours in your own favourite colour, currently on the wrist of the hand you’re using to guide Jungkook’s), cute little macrame braid ones with hearts woven into the design that you had pointed out one day while you were both at the mall and he had bought without any hesitation mostly as a joke but resulted in both of you wearing them on a daily basis.
Now, all he can do is continue watching you with bated breath as you guide his hand right where you both want him. He comes to cup the underside of one of your breasts, your hand over his pressing his fingers tighter together until you can feel some sort of pleasant pressure. And, just like that, something feral and needy seems to snap within him. His hand slithers from your grasp if only so he can flick his thumb across your nipple, mesmerized by the softness of it. He’s only ever seen you naked once before and it was fleeting. You were both drunk, skinny dipping in a lake with a handful of other friends, but it had been too dark to notice much else. But now? Now, he can see all of you and the sight strikes a chord right down to his dick.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” Jungkook groans.
“Koo.” The cute little nickname you had given him sounds dirty now as it slips from your lips in a moan. “Too sentimental.”
But Jungkook isn’t listening because you really, really, really are so beautiful. He bows his head to your chest, catching one of your nipples in his mouth. He murmurs something against your chest that sounds akin to, “We can take things slow.”
“Slow…” Your head is spinning, but it’s a delightful sensation. Something hard pokes against your ass now, and the adrenaline only seems to build within you. It’s odd how everything feels so foreign ━ exploring his body and these newfound feelings like the uncharted territory it is ━ yet secure and safe at the same time. As if you know what to do next, where to touch next, how to move, your bodies almost fitting together like pieces to a puzzle. “Y-Yeah, I like that. Can I move?”
“Fuck, yes, please,” he growls. He’s much too busy nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin on your chest, teeth tugging at your nipple.
You hurry to obey, giving a small experimental swivel of your hips that almost immediately has the both of your inhaling a sharp breath of air. His dick strains against his sweatpants, the material doing very little in protecting him against you. Your core throbs as you rub yourself on him.
“Like this?” You rasp.
“Yeah, just like that.” Jungkook’s head rolls back onto the couch, his eyes squeezing shut and his blonde hair spilling into his eyes. He clenches his jaw, the nerves fluttering in the corner, as pure euphoria riddles his features. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anything so sexy. “Fuck, we probably shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Yeah,” You agree, breathless. “Do you wanna stop?”
“No. Do you?”
“Thank god.” The sigh of relief that emits from Jungkook startles even him but, in the heat of the moment, he doesn’t register how any of this could be a mistake. “Ah, shit━ Faster━”
“Mmm, Koo━” You whimper as you quicken your pace, the vulgar harbored thought of his dick in you thrilling you to no end.
“Fuuck, I’ve never heard you sound like this before. So needy, so desperate,” Jungkook grunts, his fingers digging into your hips. And it’s all because of him, the way you’re feeling. He’s never wanted to hurry to please you faster, itching to tear you apart if he’ll get to hear those noises from you again and again. “I━”
He’s gonna cum, and he’s not even in your pussy. What’s gotten into him?  
He presses you a little harsher against his dick, sitting up straighter so that his chest is pressed flush against yours. He leans forward, lips chasing after yours, before you pull back just enough sluggishly to press your finger to his mouth.
“Uh uh. No kissing,” You rasp.
The words process in Jungkook’s head, but the weight of them don’t seem to linger in his daze. He’s far too overwhelmed by you and the way you’re making him feel to even begin to try to decipher why you avoid his mouth and so, for now, he doesn’t care. Instead, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, nose nuzzling against your throat. You clutch at his hair, tugging at the roots tight enough for him to moan.
“Nnngh, Jungkook━” You whine. “I’m gonna━ Oh, fuck, Koo━”
And then you’re unravelling, right in his very arms. He holds you close as you tremble and shake, rutting your hips sloppily against his to ride out your high, and Jungkook thinks he can definitely get used to this. The familiar burn forms in his stomach and, without even thinking of it, he comes in the confinements of his pants.
But in the heat of the moment, he doesn’t notice quite a lot of things. Neither do you.
So, maybe you could both find a hundred and one reasons why having sex with your best friend would surely cross some lines, but the thing with you and Jungkook (and what would eventually blossom into a hubristic relationship of sorts) is that it wasn’t just sex. You would always be comfortable around him, as he would be with you. And nothing could ever possibly get weird between the two of you ━ not when you had both made a promise to each other that it wouldn’t get in the way of your friendship.
Because ━ while, yeah, he’s hot and suffers from fuckboy tendencies from time-to-time and, aside from random late night hookups ━ he was still the same boy that would drag you out at three in the morning to drive to the next city over for a bowl of ramen, who would marathon shows as long as One Piece or Game of Thrones with you, watching as much as you can in one all-nighter; who would come to your dorm, no matter the time of day, the moment you said you were sick or suffering from cramps, piled high with your favourite snacks; who shared a repertoire of silly inside jokes with you that never made any sense to anyone but the both of you; who insisted you both wear friendship bracelets even in college. He would always be an angel to you, treat you well, because you meant that much to him.
A small thought in the back of Jungkook’s head wonders, above all else, if you were anyone different, would he have even bothered suggesting such a ludicrous idea, drunk or not?
Because he’s positive no one else could make him cum in his pants like a horny prepubescent teen ━ no one except for you.
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“If we’re really gonna do this, we need to set some ground rules.”
Admittedly, neither you nor Jungkook knew what would happen after Jungkook’s proposition to you. Maybe you were expecting the two of you to pretend as if nothing had ever happened, or laugh it off as something so inconsequential that neither of you should bother worrying about it. Instead, the very next day, you find that you’re back in Jungkook’s dorm. Only this time, you’re in his bed, and he spent the past half hour sufficiently eating you out.
Now, you’ve had an epiphany in the form of Jungkook’s dick, and that is that it’s big.
You’ve seen it before on occasion ━ like when he streaked nude across campus as a dare or when he needed to use your shower because his apartment was under maintenance and he walked out on you in the living room ━ but this is clearly a very different circumstance. All red, swollen, angry tip wet and glistening with precum. You had to brace yourself as he pushed himself into you, cautiously and slowly, enjoying the way you stretch to fit around him. If you had a drunken excuse the night before for loving the thought of getting off with Jungkook, then you surely don’t have one now. It’s a shameless guilty pleasure, you think, that he’s at least indulging in.
“Rules,” Jungkook scoffs now. “You’re such a nerd. Fuck, you feel so fucking good━ You doing okay?”
More than. Your head lolls back against his pillow, eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head. “Mhm.”
“Want a minute?”
Jungkook pauses without any hesitation, gnawing on his lower lip as your walls clench around him so tightly he feels he might fall apart then and there. His hands are on your hips, thumbs rubbing comforting circles against your burning skin. A few deep breaths later and you’re probing Jungkook to move again. His hips rut into yours at a leisure pace, and he marvels for a moment at the way his dick disappears into your pussy, slick and wet with your own arousal. The thought of being in you ━ of finally feeling your walls wrapped around him, all wet and snug ━ is enough to make him bust then and there, but he refrains miraculously.
“Holy fuck,” You groan. “Why are you so big━”
Your voice cuts off into a delightful whimper, walls aching around him. Jungkook snorts, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. “Nothing sexier than hearing you stroke my ego.”
“Don’t let it get to your already big head,” You retort sluggishly.
“Big head!” he grumbles against your throat, lips brushing faintly against your skin and sending shivers down your spine. “Insult me some more. You know how it gets me going.”
“Oh my god, shut up. Where were we?”
“Right,” You breathe in a sharp inhale of air as he grinds against your hips. “And rule number one is no kissing. That’s way too intimate.”
Jungkook quirks a brow. “How is kissing more intimate than having my dick in you?”
“It just is.” You refuse to tell him the truth. You poke your fingers at his sides, causing him to jerk against you. “Don’t question it.”
“Fine. Then no sentimental shit in general, like cuddling or pet names,” Jungkook retorts. “And no public displays of affection.”
“Okay,” You nod. “Fuck, Jungkook━”
“God, I love hearing you moan my name,” Jungkook grunts. He watches with fascination the way your face reacts at his every movement. “Too much?”
“No. Kinda hot,” You admit. An abrupt thought pops into your head that has you murmuring hazily, “Oh, and you can’t have sex with me to your sex playlist.”
Jungkook looks appalled. The sex playlist in question is one you’ve heard briefly before, if only because you’ve walked in on Jungkook and his flavour of the month a handful of times one too many times.
“So you’re telling me you don’t want to have the best orgasm of your life to The Weeknd or the Neighbourhood? WAP?” Jungkook asks, wriggling his brows suggestively. “Alanis Morissette?” You have less than half a second to register the 90s pop singer as out of place before Jungkook breaks out into song with a brief rendition of Head over Feet. “You’re my best friend, best friend with benefits━!”
Part of you knows he’s joking, but there’s still a small sliver of you that makes you gawk at him dubiously before dissolving into a fit of unabashed laughter. It rumbles against his chest, vibrates his dick in you. “You’re not serious, are you? That’s not actually in your sex playlist, is it?”
He flashes you a shit-eating grin. “Guess you’ll never know now.”
Another roll of your eyes makes him snicker. He’s gotten used to your snide remarks, but he’ll gladly keep suffering under them if he gets to wipe that taunting smirk off your face each time with the way his dick makes you feel. You cling a little tighter to his shoulders and muse aloud, “So that’s it then?”
“Yeah━” Jungkook knows you’re referring to the rules and your plan, although it’s getting harder to focus on talking as he continues to grind against you. “And nothing has to change between us, even if we stop. We’re still just two best friends.”
“Who have sex from time to time.”
He can’t help himself. He tries again. “Who might kiss.”
“Nope.” You’re smiling even despite the way you shoot him an aggravated stare first.
“We might?”
“No, we definitely won’t.”
Worth a shot, he thinks to himself. At least you really do always keep him in check.
After all, what are best friends for?
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So, maybe a part of you thought the shift in your relationship with Jungkook wouldn’t last very long. A week at most, and maybe Hoseok would find you another pointless let down of a blind date to go on and Jungkook would get horny for some other girl ━ but it’s certainly been more than a week now, and you’ve had sex with him more than two times.
A third, and a fourth, if you’re being blatantly honest, and maybe a few more times after that but you don’t really remember what count you’re both on now which should probably be concerning. Days elapse into days, which turn to weeks, then months. Morning, afternoon, and night.
It’s not as if you hadn’t already spent almost every waking moment with Jungkook but now you had a reason to be at his apartment at any and all hours of the day and not solely for movie watching marathons. You’re positive he’s still having his occasional random flings, though you’re fortunate his commitment issues at least force him to go to their homes rather than his for the most part, so you never really have to witness half-naked girls stumbling out of his apartment just as you’re wandering in. He says it has something to do with how his bedroom is his sacred space, though you think it’s more like he wouldn’t want his hook ups discovering his Overwatch figurines or something (because, before Jungkook’s proposition, you’ve walked in on him once and a girl when they were entangled on the couch in his living room).
But you’ve noticed lately you’re getting too comfortable with your arrangement with Jungkook; too comfortable knowing he’ll be there at the end of a long day to greet you, to please you until you’re crying out his name. Sometimes he tells you about the girls he’s texting, or shows you a picture from a hot girl’s Instagram whose D.M.s he’s just slid into. And sometimes you’re left wondering how often he comes straight to you after hooking up with a random girl.
It shouldn’t matter to you, and you swear that it doesn’t.
Maybe you’re just overthinking things. Hoseok certainly seems to think so, but his judgement wasn’t much to go by.
Because, lately, Hoseok has been encouraging you more and more to give Yukhei (the blind date Hoseok had initially set you up with when you found yourself at Jungkook’s) another chance for two reasons: 1) “Yukhei’s a nice boy,” he had cheerfully reminded you, “he’ll treat you well,” and 2) “Stop fucking your best friend. It’s morally wrong.”
There were many things wrong with his statement, from the fact that you didn’t exactly consider standing up a date as “nice” and that you were also still begrudgingly lamenting the way Hoseok had discovered your recent fling with Jungkook (although, you weren’t being very inconspicuous, having shower sex with Jungkook early one morning when you were certain Hoseok would be spending the day at his fiance’s home instead of yours).
But then you meet Yukhei and you realize that, oh crap, he’s cute. And he’s nice.
As it turns out, after bumping into him one day when you’re with Hoseok lounging on the quad of your campus and he comes bounding over to return a textbook Hoseok had lent him for a specific class, Yukhei is so easily charming. He also gives a pretty valid excuse for flaking on your date, proving that he had to present his dissertation, making you clearly aware that he’s cute, nice, and smart. Jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t see the appeal, yet his curiosity and intrigue seems to get the best of him.
“So that was your blind date?” Jungkook asks after grabbing your attention on the quad and stealing you away from Hoseok and Yukhei. “Yukhei?”
“You know him?”
“Seen him around,” Jungkook shrugs nonchalantly. “I’ve never really talked to him. But him? You’re not telling me you’re actually interested in him, are you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe,” You’re truly just as clueless about your feelings towards Yukhei as Jungkook seems to be. “What’s so wrong about him?”
“He’s━” Jungkook stops. He shakes his head. “Heard he’s got a small dick anyway.”
You shoot the boy a wary look, only to find him grinning deviously at himself. “Maybe he just wants to be friends.”
At this, Jungkook lets out a scoffing sound that borders on disbelieving laughter. “No, I definitely think he wants to have sex with you in his Toyota Camry, Y/N, but what do I know?”
“You’re not jealous, are you?”
“No, why would I be jealous?”
You can’t quite tell if he’s angry or not but, then again, why would he be? As far as either of you are concerned, there’s nothing to be jealous of.
So then why does it feel like he’s simply just telling himself that?
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“Are you seriously on your phone right now?”
Jungkook asks this from somewhere behind you a handful of days later, a little peeved but most likely because your jarring 8:00 a.m. alarm had roused the both of you violently awake. In his defense, Jungkook is not a morning person.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” You’re currently sprawled out on your hands and knees on his bed, phone still in your grasp after having plucked it off the nightstand in haste. Your clothes are scattered across the floor of his room, remnant clues of the night before when he had beckoned you over after hours, and your body is covered in nothing but hickeys and an unbuttoned blue flannel belonging to Jungkook that you had chucked on last night that does nothing in covering up the swell of your breasts which Jungkook is now currently eyeing. “Am I not giving you enough attention? Were you expecting cuddles or something? Thought that wasn’t in the rules.”
“No,” Jungkook huffs. He runs a hand through his long messy hair in an attempt to fix it; he ultimately gives up taming his locks, instead using the hair tie around his wrist to tie his hair back into a cute yet sexy little ponytail. As he does so, you notice the red friendship bracelet around his wrist and smile smally. “But my dick could use some cuddles. Preferably with your mouth, but it will also gladly accept your hand.”
Jungkook may not be a morning person but, as you’ve come to realize, his dick certainly is.
It’s painfully obvious too, his hardened length straining against the gray sweatpants he had thrown on at some point. And, god, did he have to wear those? It left little to the imagination, the outline of his length teasing you just enough.
“I should get going,” You say. “I have a test coming up. There’s supposed to be a review session today in class, and I don’t want to miss it.”
“Well, you don’t seem like you’re in a rush since you’re still on your phone,” Jungkook points out. “Who are you texting anyway? Yukhei?”
“Anger is an emotion,” You rebuke casually. “So is jealousy.”
Jungkook feigns a look of mock hurt. “I’m not angry or jealous! I’m needy.”
Still, Jungkook reaches out to swiftly pluck your phone from your hands.
He’s pressed up against your back in an instant, his dick hard against your ass, and he doesn’t move very far even when you twist in your spot in an attempt to grab your phone back. You don’t, and instead you end up on your back with him on his side, propped up on his elbow. You miss when he casts a swift gaze down at your phone, only to see that Yukhei’s chat messages are indeed open, and something seems to gnaw terribly at his gut before he tosses your phone to the side. He’s looking at you now with those big beautiful eyes of his, and you hate it.
“Please?” he beckons. He ruts his hips impatiently but slowly against your leg. He drops his head to bury his face in the crook of your neck, lips dangerously close to brushing against your flesh but he refrains somehow. “M’so hard right now, could probably bust the moment you touch me.”
The thought is tempting, having a helpless Jungkook cumming in your hands. The sight alone has quickly become your favourite thing, helping the frustrated boy get off. Besides, you’re certain you could ask Hoseok for the review notes.
Fuck it, you cave.
You fidget until you’ve pressed him back against the bed and have clambered on top of him, wiggling your way down to fit between his legs. Jungkook is watching you now with a half-asleep expression, though his teeth sink into his lower lip as you pull at his sweatpants until they’re down at his thighs, letting his swollen dick spring free.
“You know━” You hum. You reach out to grab at the base of his cock. “Yukhei wants to hang out, and Hoseok keeps telling me to give it a shot.”
That much is true. Part of you wants to say yes, if only because Yukhei seems promising enough, but the thought alone is enough for you to feel as if you’ve done something horribly wrong to Jungkook.
“Oh.” The word eclipses Jungkook’s mouth in a shallow breath of air. Then, your mouth wraps around the puffy head of his dick, shining with leaking precum that you swallow back, and Jungkook’s reaction is immediate. Head thrown back, face scrunching together, muscles in his toned abdomen flexing as he seizes and grunts aloud. “Oh, fuck━ Well… Are you gonna?”
Jungkook asks the last question with much difficulty, and a part of him thinks it doesn’t all have to do with how you’re making him feel.
“Dunno.” You snort around his dick, and he marvels at how adorable such a lewd action can seem.
You decide to focus on sucking him off because it truly is a sexy sight to see, letting the topic of Yukhei drop. Jungkook certainly doesn’t mind. As you swirl your tongue around his tip and reach up with your free hand to fondle at his balls, his long hair falls into his lashes but he still tries to find you past his wild locks, hooded eyes gazing down at you.  
“Ah, shit━” Jungkook hisses delightfully, hips jerking forward instinctively into your mouth. The faintest hints of a drowsy smirk tug at his lips. “Fuck, yes, just like that.”
Yeah, you think to yourself then, you’re definitely going to ride him later. Screw going to class.
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From: Jungkook Sent: 1:05 a.m.
bro i noticed u werent wearing our friendship bracelet while u were giving me head earlier. is everything ok??
You wake in the morning to a single text from Jungkook ━ and one you had not been expecting.
That’s not to say that getting the occasional text message from Jungkook at any and all hours of the day was abnormal, but the extent of his messages sent anywhere past midnight usually always range from something more coherent in the form of “what would u do if i was there rn?” to something exuding typical lazy Jungkook manner with a simple “dtf?” or “send noods lol” to something even more provocatively cryptic such as the eggplant and splashing water (or, as far as Jungkook is concerned, something else entirely) emojis and nothing else, left open for your own interpretation that typically, usually, without a doubt, results in you in his bed and his dick in you. But this seems to be something else entirely.
Unfortunately, Jungkook’s text isn’t the only concern of yours.
Hoseok has spent the better part of the morning giving you a lecture on why having sex with your best friend is bad. He seems so passionate about the topic that you’re certain he would have pulled out a powerpoint at any moment, each slide ending in a picture of Yukhei and why you should maybe try fucking him instead, if you entertained the idea a little longer. Hoseok claims it’s just a harmless date. Yukhei might be a nice boy, but you don’t know how you feel about him. You don’t want to lead him on, and a scary thought points out the fact that maybe, while Yukhei is a nice boy, he isn’t Jungkook.
“I don’t get why you don’t just give Yukhei a chance━” Hoseok is saying now, sat on the couch in your shared apartment with him. “It’s not like you have to marry him. I don’t think one date will hurt━ Aaand, you’re not even listening to me anymore, are you?”
The sheepish look on your face is enough of an answer for him. You’ve been anxiously eyeing your phone and the text Jungkook had sent you last that you’ve yet to respond to, even despite being awake for more than a few hours now.
“Yes, I am listening,” You say dismissively. “Something about how one date won’t hurt, but that’s what you said when Yoongi asked you out, and you’re literally engaged now.”
The glistening metallic ring on Hoseok’s finger is evidence enough. The boy looks down at it as if seeing it for the first time, purses his lips, and then nods in agreement. “Okay, yeah, maybe you’re right. But you’re holding out for Jungkook and for what? He’s hot, yeah, and he’s your best friend, sure, but at the end of the day he’s still just a horny male who wants to stick his dick in anything that moves.”
“Hoseok.” Your grumbling sigh is interrupted by the motion of your phone vibrating against your thigh once more. You peek at the screen fleetingly to see a new text.
From: Jungkook Sent: 2:35 p.m.
send n00ds?
miss ur tits :(
Typical Jungkook.
The text from the night before is all but seemingly forgotten from his mind, and you can’t quite tell if you’re devastated or relieved. You don’t have very long to discern which emotion you’re feeling when Hoseok snatches your phone to look at what’s gotten your attention before exclaiming suddenly, “Aha! See! What did I say?”
“It’s not like that,” You wave Hoseok off. “Jungkook treats me well. He respects me, and I’m comfortable with him.”
“And how long until whatever this is━” He gestures vaguely to your phone as if to point out your relationship with Jungkook, “has to end? Do you really think a pinky promise is going to make sure your friendship with him isn’t totally ruined? I mean, how can you continue being casual friends with someone, see them dating someone else, when they’ve had their dick in you?”
You know it makes sense. Realistically, you either stop sleeping with each other or it potentially develops into something more. But in both circumstances, what were the chances that either of you didn’t get your heart broken? Maybe a part of you was apprehensive of Jungkook finding the “right” person for him one day that has him ending things with you, and while you swear you’d be happy for him, relationships sometimes have a way of distracting people from those already around them. Were you prepared to have someone take him away from you, platonically and whatever it is else that you have with him? Did you really think you could just keep being friends with him, as if nothing ever occurred between you two?
You don’t think Jungkook is bothered worrying about the state of your friendship with him, much less overthinking it like you seem to be. It shouldn’t be a big deal ━ yet why was there still that terrible nagging voice in the back of your mind? Whether or not Hoseok is right, you don’t want to find out. You don’t have feelings for Jungkook anyway.
But your ability to bend at his every will is certainly interesting.
You grab your phone before Hoseok can do any serious damage like unlocking it and responding to Jungkook, clutching it to your chest as you start to cross the living room. The other boy looks at you in bewilderment. “Where are you going now?”
“Where does it look?” You call over your shoulder just before you disappear into the bathroom, and Hoseok deduces all at once that you’re truly a lost cause. “I need to send him a picture of my boobs.”
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“He’s totally into you, Y/N.”
Admittedly, there were many mundane but essentially weird things you’ve talked to Jungkook about while having sex. You’ve had many heated debates about everything under the sun from whether or not pineapple on pizza should be illegal to top five betrayals in either movies or animes, to passionate grand philosophical discussions about what exists outside of the universe.
It’s not as if you had been planning on talking about Yukhei to Jungkook when he had invited you over to his apartment late at night after sending your risqué boob picture to him but, like many things in your friendship with Jungkook, it sort of just happened. He had asked you how your day was and you had decided to broach the topic experimentally, though you think deep down you’re doing it on purpose to see if he’d react in any way. What started with you mentioning Hoseok’s adamance and you sort of genuinely asking Jungkook for advice on Yukhei somehow evolved into Jungkook interrogating you on whether or not you’ve hung out with him yet.
“Jungkook. You’re getting off topic,” You admonish him now, as if your own choice of topic is any better when his dick is currently in you.
Jungkook is wedged between your thighs smushed up against your chest, large palms holding you on your ribcage in place beneath him. He’s a comfortable heavy draped over top of you, cock stretching you wide. You can feel his heart hammering against yours and he’s slick with sweat, golden hair clinging to his forehead and in his pretty eyes. You resist the urge to reach out and brush the messy locks away but, again, how would that be any less intimate of an action than what you’re already doing? Another line uncrossed, you suppose.
“How am I off topic?” Jungkook retorts. “You literally just said you can’t tell if he’s into you but he dropped by when you were done class and bought you lunch. You don’t just do that for a girl you don’t care that much about.”
“You buy me lunch, like, every day,” You point out.
“Because you’re my best friend. Of course I care about you,” Jungkook says.
“Ah, Jungkook━” You curse suddenly, grabbing his attention when you shift your weight beneath him. “You’re crushing me. Why’d you stop moving?”
He doesn’t have an answer, if only because he hadn’t even realized he’d stop moving in the first place. Without hesitation, he continues leisurely rutting his hips against yours, grabbing at one of your legs to hook it around his waist. This new angle lets you feel even more of him as he sinks further into you, if that was even still possible, reaching so far into you that you swear it’s like you can feel him in your stomach. Your head lolls back against the pillows, pure euphoria contorting your face so much so to the point that it distracts you entirely from the distant look glazing over Jungkook’s eyes.
“Yukhei definitely wants to bang,” he huffs under his breath.
At once, an exasperated groan fills his ears.
“I can’t believe we’re seriously having this conversation right now,” You roll your eyes, fingers prodding at his sides. “I don’t wanna talk about Yukhei potentially wanting to have sex with me.”
Jungkook’s glad you said it, at least. Though now he’s watching you with hooded eyes as he thrusts into you a little harder, maybe a little intentionally. His indulgent gaze droops to your breasts, admiring the way they bounce beneath him each time his hips make contact with yours. He thinks back earlier in the day to the picture you had sent him which, really, had sparked the mood for the rest of the night.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he whines abruptly. His eyes screw shut and brows furrow together as your walls clench around him. He drops his head to bury his face in your chest, lips momentarily wrapping around one of your nipples as he sucks harshly at the soft flesh. When he speaks next, forehead still resting against your collarbones, his voice is a breathless croak, “Well, do you like him?”
“No,” You moan. “Maybe━ Fuck, Koo━ I don’t know.”
“He’s gonna be at that party Tae’s throwing, isn’t he?” Jungkook tries to focus, but it’s becoming increasingly harder to do so when he’s inching closer and closer to his high. “Shit, ah, Y/N━ Why don’t you try talking to him or something? See how the night goes?”
“He’s nice but I don’t think he’s the one for me,” You admit sheepishly. “I think I’m just gonna end things while I still can, with as little harm as possible.”
“Well, glad that’s settled,” Jungkook mumbles. “Can we please stop talking about Yukhei now?”
You seem to miss the way he clings to you a little tighter, hands flying down to grip at your hips, nails digging crescent moon shapes into your skin. He snaps his hips into yours a little faster this time, your pussy throbbing around him.
“Nngh, Jungkook━”
Your hands fumble to grip at his hair, tugging tightly at the roots and earning a delightful hiss from the boy. Your own mouth drops open in a silent moan and it’s a wonder he doesn’t combust at just how sexy the sight is. He hates how his eyes stay trained on the shape of your lips, the soft plumpness of them. He’s felt them wrapped around his dick plenty of times before but he concedes that it’s probably hardly anywhere near to how it would feel to kiss you. Like actually kiss you, tongue and all.
God, what’d he give just to smother your lips with his.
And, god, he hopes you never find out. He’s positive that thought is far more scandalous alone than anything you’ve ever done together.
You’re writhing beneath him now, hips jutting forward desperately to meet his. “I’m gonna cum, Jungkook━”
“Fuck, yes,” Jungkook growls. “Wanna feel you cream around my cock so bad. Come on, baby━”
In the heat of the moment, you seem to miss the pet name that slurs off his tongue and the sentiment in it. A few more jolting slams of his hips and you’re tumbling over the edge. He has to sputter for air when he feels your pussy wrapping so tightly around him, stuttering in his pace above you if only to watch as you unravel beneath him. Hooded dark eyes glazed over in that perfect fucked out expression he loves so much, teeth biting at your lower lip so hard he wonders if it’ll bruise in the morning.
A sudden thought pops into his head when you’ve settled enough, amongst the blinding pure white of bliss that clouds his thoughts. “Did you get my text by the way? The one I sent last night?”
You gasp for air. The bracelet on your wrist itches at the mention of it, and you’re fortunate you decided to wear it that afternoon before coming to Jungkook’s. “Y-Yeah━”
“Everything’s fine,” You say this as dismissively as you can. Your core is still vibrating after the harsh impact of your orgasm paired with Jungkook’s swollen length still in you. “I just… I was taking a shower and didn’t want to get it wet. I forgot to put it back on in the morning.”
That’s a lie. You had mostly taken it off as part of an experiment, though it hasn’t answered much. At least Jungkook doesn’t seem to realize that.
“Oh,” Jungkook breathes. A beat of silence passes, before he deadpans cockily, “Wait, you were taking a shower and I wasn’t invited?”
“Oh my god, shut up━” Maybe if he hadn’t just currently driven you to nirvana and back, you’d notice the way the sloppy grin on his face is a simple taunt. But you’re much too distracted to care. Instead, you use your leg that’s still hooked around his waist to gently push and roll him onto his back so that you can straddle his hips. His eyes sparkle mischievously as he watches you waste no time in hurrying to grind against him at an agonizingly steady pace that makes his head spin. “You’re ruining the moment. I’m trying to make you cum.”
A devious cackle rumbles from his chest, albeit a little contented at the same time. Yeah, he definitely likes the sound of that. “Well then, by all means, don’t let me stop you.”
It’s only then that his question comes back into your mind. If he felt the need to ask you again about the bracelet, maybe that meant something after all. At the very least, it means he hadn’t forgotten about it altogether. On the other hand, you wonder how often he had spent thinking, or over-thinking, the issue in the past twenty-four hours, if at all.
Was it wrong to feel some semblance of joy over that potential fact? Probably.
That doesn’t seem to bother you much this time. Not when he’s gazing up at you as if you’re some divine sexy goddess, all his to enjoy. You can’t help yourself; you reach down to brush the sweaty hair from his eyes, perhaps all too gentle of an action for best friends.
And he smiles, maybe a little too softly and maybe a little too ardently if you look close enough.
He smiles.
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The thing about your supposed “rules” with your relationship with Jungkook is that there might be a few loose ends that neither you nor Jungkook pay much attention to sometimes.
But that’s neither here nor there.
Mostly, the “no public displays of affection” clause is easily disregardable. It’s typically when you’re too drunk to remember it and a bit needy, craving one another’s touch, but those around you never truly seem to care or even notice because, if you’re lucky, they’re equally as smashed. Sometimes the “no cuddles” clause blurs into a gray area where it’s simply just you and Jungkook post-sex, sprawled out in his bed, not necessarily wrapped up in one another’s arms and cooing sweet nothings to one another but giggling at nothing in particular except one another as you bask in each other’s company and nothing more. You suppose some rules are meant to be broken.
For the most part, Jungkook never seems to question the no kissing rule you were so adamant in insisting. Not until one night in which you’re left wondering where things go so drastically wrong. It starts off as normally as any other day with you and Jungkook can, spent in his apartment binge watching movies. You hadn’t expected that night to switch as suddenly as it does when Jungkook shoots you a text earlier in the day asking if you want to come to his for a night of casual drinking as simply “best friends.” But, as always, one thing seems to lead to another, and you can’t get enough of Jungkook. Maybe it’s in the way he holds you a little tighter, the way he tugs you onto his lap on the sofa in his living room, the way he grips your thighs with a certain type of insatiable desire.
“You know…” he hums. “You drive me insane. In, like, the best way possible.”
Part of you realizes his actions even without him seeming to, and the drunken smile on your face remaining frozen in place, a little dumbfounded. “Jungkook…”
“When I’m with you…” He lifts his stare to look at you, but you have nothing to say. Neither does he. Instead, you’re left grinning at one another and suddenly your face is warm. He leans towards you, his nose nuzzling against the side of your throat. Your hands stay threaded in his hair now, and he swears he feels you secure your grip as if to pull him closer.
You can feel his lips brush faintly against your skin, grazing along your neck to the underside of your jaw. Up, up, up, until━
It’s just as his mouth meets with the corner of yours that you register what he’s doing, even in your clouded state. You turn your head just in time, and he comes to an immediate halt, his lips barely making contact with your cheek instead before he pulls away. He doesn’t move very far but you also don’t push him away just yet. Instead, you shift your head to look at him, still inches apart from him.
“What are you doing?” You ask. He can’t quite tell if you’re appalled or not, an empty expression staring back at him.
“I━ You━” He fumbles over his words, squeezes his eyes shut. He blames it on the alcohol even though his head is swimming with thoughts that seem to only concern you. But then a fierceness seems to stir within him, one that makes his jaw clench as he meets your stunned stare. The question rolls off his tongue without meaning to. “Is this about Yukhei?”
“Is that why you weren’t wearing our bracelet the other day?”
The question is so ridiculous, you have to laugh. “What are you going on about?”
But Jungkook doesn’t see what’s so funny and so he tries again, his persistence taking hold. “Is that why you won’t ever let me kiss you?”
You blink. Then, you’re shaking your head at him. Exasperation hangs heavy in your words, shaping in the form of a tired scoff. “You’re not serious.”
You’ve slithered off of his lap before he can even think to stop you ━ but if he had, would you have even stayed? You’re mad, but he doesn’t know why. “No, I wanna know. Because if what we have is already so meaningless, what makes a kiss any different?”
“So I wanna know,” he says, brows unconsciously knitting together. His gaze is searching yours desperately, as if begging for an answer he’ll want to hear. But he knows he’s being an idiot, a small sober part in him makes him realize that. “Humour me. Have you had sex with him yet?”
“Oh my god. I can’t believe that’s what you’re on about.” Suddenly, you’re frowning. Your hardened stare meets the boy’s and the irritation that scrunches at your face makes him wince, but it’s too late for him to take back the damage that he’s done. “Yeah, Jungkook, we fucked in his stupid Toyota that you hate so much and he choked me and I liked it. He did all sorts of dirty things to me. Is that what you want to hear?” The sardonic tone hisses at his ears, but he bites back his words, the sober part in him doing some decent good by shushing him. “No, Jungkook, we didn’t fuck. We haven’t even gone on a date, and I don’t even know if I want to, and you think I’m throwing myself at him.”
“But you wanna.”
“You’re being an idiot,” You admonish. “I’m going home. Talk to me when you’re sober.”
He has just enough time to watch you turn on your heel, march towards his door, when he scrambles to his feet. The weight of his words and actions finally seem to dawn on him, hitting him harshly in the face and in the heart.
“Fuck, wait! Wait━” he gasps.
He chases after you, hand reaching out to press his palm against the door before you can shimmy it open. He’s fortunate when you turn to look at him, though your arms are folded impatiently over your chest.
“You’re right. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad,” he promises earnestly. Then, he lets out a frustrated groan. “I just… What if we… Shit, what if we stop for right now? Y’know… Hooking up. Whatever this is.”
He gestures vaguely between the two of you with his hands, a wearied look plastering his face.
You hate to admit how his words seem to affect you. They bite at the air, leave you breathless as you gawk at him, but the harsh realization of it all is that you were never his to have and he was never yours. Hoseok had been right when he said these things were bound to come to an end ━ so why did it seem to hurt you so much?
A beat of prolonged silence passes between the two of you. Jungkook runs a hand through his chaotic blonde hair, digging the heel of his palm into his temple as if to rid himself of a headache he’s no doubt sporting. Maybe you’re waiting for a better explanation, but he gives none, and you don’t feel as if you have the right to ask why. He’s not your boyfriend, for god’s sake. It’s not like he’s breaking your heart.
Instead, you take a deep breath and say, “Okay.”
“Okay.” It’s all that he says in return.
So then why does it feel like he is?
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When Jungkook had promised that if your fling with him ended you would go back to being untainted best friends, he was apparently lying.
A part of you can’t believe the sheer nerve of him to ghost you in his traditional fuckboy ways, and yet he does. You suppose not entirely, at the very least. Part of it ends up with you being even more vexed by his sudden shift in emotion, and the tangible tension that rises between the two of you should have been dealt with properly, yet neither of you do anything about it, leaving your friendship stagnant and stale for a week. After all, how are you really supposed to go back to “just friends” when you’ve seen his dick one too many times?
You refrain from telling Hoseok, if only so you don’t have to hear him tell you he told you so ━ but you also decide to give Yukhei that one chance, and so you think Hoseok wouldn’t mind so much anyway.
Admittedly, when Yukhei asks to hang with you at Taehyung’s eventual party, you aren’t entirely too keen, but you accept it if only because you heard Jungkook will be there too. For the majority of the night, you don’t see the boy, and you spend the hours cozying up with Yukhei in a conversation that dulls you. As it would appear, it seems to bore Yukhei too, but you only notice that when he starts touching you on your waist and the small of your back. There’s a moment where he leans his head close enough to yours that you realize he’s trying to kiss you, resulting in an awkward encounter in which you push him away, palms on his chest.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. The answer is obvious enough to you, but you don’t think you should tell him for his own dignity. That, instead, all you can imagine is Jungkook in his place. “Should we get out of here?”
“Y/N. Can I talk to you?”
You’re both fortunate yet horrified when you hear Jungkook’s voice. He’s standing just behind you, his own stare devoid of any emotion, though his brows furrow and his jaw clenches in a signature Jungkook manner that you know means he’s pissed. He hardly acknowledges Yukhei, nodding in his general direction. You don’t remember if you leave Yukhei there or if he leaves, or if Jungkook even gives a poor attempt of an excuse to the boy, but you’ve not so much as uttered a single word or let out an exhalation of air, when Jungkook ultimately pulls you off to the side where it’s just you and him once more.
“I’m not sucking your dick in Tae’s grimy bathroom, if that’s what you want,” You scowl once Yukhei is out of earshot. “You’ve lost the privilege that is my mouth.”
“That’s not━” Jungkook shakes his head, exasperated. “That’s not what I want. I just━ I’ll take you home. Please?”
You know the offer is much more than him simply walking you the route to your dorm, which you already know like the back of your hand. Yet, you don’t argue. Truthfully, it’s a relief when Jungkook lugs you out of the party. The entire venture back to your apartment is treacherous, in the way that you’re left sobering up enough to the point that your dizzying thoughts become more coherent. Hoseok is gone for the weekend at least, spending the days with his fiance, so you don’t have to worry about humiliating yourself in front of your roommate when it comes to Jungkook.
You’ve barely made it through your front door when you’re grumbling aloud, “What do you want, Jungkook?”
“I wanna talk,” he says firmly. “About us. About Yukhei.”
“Maybe I don’t want to.” But that’s a lie. Talking to Jungkook, even despite masquerading your annoyance for him, is a blessing in disguise. You’ve missed the idiot, and hearing his voice. “Besides, you told me to give him a chance.”
“And you said you didn’t want to.”
“Maybe I changed my mind.”
“Yeah, you sure seemed like you loved it when he was trying to shove his tongue down your throat,” Jungkook retorts bitterly. “C’mon, Y/N. We both know that’s a lie.”
“You know, you’ve been a real dick lately.”
A sliver of a smirk tugs at Jungkook’s face. “I thought you love dick.”
Clearly, his poor attempt at a joke doesn’t land well with you. “Why do you even care so much if Yukhei and I get together? Stop acting so high and mighty and moral, Jungkook. It’s not like you’re some virgin saint. How many times have I heard you talk about all those girls you’ve fucked? And what was I? Just another notch in your belt this whole time?”
“What?” Jungkook gasps now, as if disbelieving you would ever think such a thing. “No! You’re not just another notch. I would never even think about you that way. And I haven’t had sex with anyone else but you this whole time and I easily could have.”
“Wow! Such a martyr,” You remark dryly. When you speak next, you meet his stare with your own crestfallen gaze. “I just want my best friend back.” Your words hurt him more than you think, but he can’t say he doesn’t deserve it. “You’re the one who tried to kiss me, then suggested we stop whatever it is we’re doing━”
Jungkook flinches. “I know.”
“Then you ignore me for days even though you promised nothing would change━”
“I know,” he says desperately. He closes the distance between the two of you, yearning to reach out and touch you. Instead, he clamps his eyes shut, trying with all his might to focus when the room feels like it’s spinning.
“And then you get mad when Yukhei tries to make a move. It’s like you’re jealous or something!”
“I am.” He can’t take it anymore. The words tumble from his lips in a rush that he hardly bothers to bite back.
“Because━ Because━” He struggles to form his thoughts into words, stumbling over his sentence. Fuck, he’s never like this. Even you can tell. He grits his teeth next. “I lean in to kiss you and you look at me as if I’m out of my mind. I just don’t get it. You don’t want me to kiss you but you let me put my dick in your ass.”
The taut line of your lip quivers as you break. “That was one time and you didn’t even get all the way in!”
“Y/N.” Jungkook hums now. He’s gazing at you a little softly, reaching out to place his hands on your waist. “Look, I know I’ve been an idiot. But lately, when I touch you, I fucking feel so alive and the thought of Yukhei doing anything with you when it isn’t me, who should be with you, makes me want to vomit. And when I wake up in the morning alone, I only want you next to me. And I can’t be the only one feeling that way. If I am, tell me. Right now. Please. I just wanna know why you won’t ever let me kiss you, but you let me do all sorts of things with you. Am I really that repulsive?”
Another moment of silence stifles the room. Jungkook is so close to you now, you can’t help yourself. You reach up to tug at the collar of his shirt, fingers twisting in the material as you lean your forehead out of frustration against his shoulder and he instinctively lets his arms slither around your waist, holding you to him. Then━
“I only made the rule because I don’t want you to kiss me unless you mean it,” You murmur into his chest. “Like really, really mean it. Like I’m more than just a notch in your belt. Because I want to kiss you so badly, and I’m already in love with you but then I’ll really be in love with you and I don’t want to get my heart broken.”
The anticipation kills you, awaiting his response. You refuse to lift your head, until you hear him grumble, “You’re so fucking stupid.”
The retort is filled with your typical jestering hostility as you finally look at him. But just as you do so, Jungkook’s reaching out to grasp at your face, rough hands all soft and gentle as they cradle your cheeks, guiding you towards him and smoothing his lips over yours until you melt like putty in his hands.
Kissing Jungkook, you deduce at once, is not at all how you imagined it.
It’s everything and more. You’ve felt his mouth on you before but in much different circumstances. Between your legs, on your throat, down past the valley of your breasts ━ and each kiss then had been feral, sloppy, rough. Now, it’s sweet and tender, the feeling of his lips as soft as how he makes your heart feel. And the butterflies━ god, the butterflies.
Impatient hands tug and pull at one another until you’ve both stumbled into your room and onto your bed. He’s clambered over top of you, lips struggling to not part throughout the whole ordeal, until he’s wedged himself between your thighs.
Only then does Jungkook part from you just enough in the next moment, lips brushing against yours, as he whispers ardently, “I mean it.”
Then he’s kissing the corner of your lips down to the underside of your jaw, his mouth grazing along your skin in a feathery touch. His hands help you shed your shirt, and the bra underneath. “I mean it when I kiss you here.”
Then he drops his head to your neck, kissing at the base of your throat, before nipping at it lightly. “And here.”
Your hands come to thread in his hair, tugging at the roots. He burrows his face lastly in your chest, snatching the nipple of one of your breasts between his teeth. “Here…”
You’re so soft and supple beneath his hands, all his to love and explore.
“I want you, all of you,” he mumbles. “Only you.”
“Oh, Koo…”
A pretty moan tumbles from your mouth, and he could nearly cry. He had surely thought you were far past the point of enraged, far past the point of pensive words shaped in a heartfelt apology to bring you back to him. But then hearing you rasp his name ━ the little cute nickname that only you call him ━ makes him so goddamn remorseful.
He smothers your lips with his once more, groaning into your mouth. “I’m such a fucking dick. I don’t deserve you.”
“Don’t say that,” You whine.
“I’m sorry,” he laments. He bites at your lower lip, suckling against it. “Please let me make it up to you.”
“You already have.”
“But I’ve been such a shitty friend,” he groans. It’s hard to focus when he’s pressing his hips against yours, the forming bulge in his pants straining against the inside of your thigh. “I should’ve known when to stop. I shouldn’t have even suggested the whole thing in the first place, because then I wouldn’t have messed us all up.”
“Jungkook,” Your grip tightens in his hair. “Jungkook━ I want you so bad. Just wanna be yours.”
“Yeah?” His breath is warm as it fans against your neck. You rub your core eagerly against him, throbbing pussy so close to making contact with his dick.
“Yeah,” You mewl.
“What do you want from me?”
“You. Wanna feel your dick in me, please,” Your fingers tug at the top of his jeans, prodding at the muscles on his abdomen. “In my mouth. Can make you feel better, Koo, I promise. Just wanna be your good girl.”
“Mmm, I like the sound of that.”
He lets you push him until he’s on his back and you’re straddling his hips. Your limbs entangle with his as you shed the rest of your clothes, your own hands wandering up and down the front of his body after he’s tossed his shirt onto the floor. Then he watches as you shimmy your way down his body. You’re so zealous in pleasing him, wrapping your hand around the base of his dick, head angry and red, dribbling pearly beads of precum down the shaft and over the bulging vein that lines it. You run your thumb over the tip and down, spreading the sticky fluid over him. He grunts in response, nearly jolting at your touch, as his head drops back against his shoulders.
“Oh, fuck,” he growls.
You pump him slowly, taking you time as your closed fist glides up and down his length. He shudders each time your hand reaches the base, and becomes so carried away with your leisure teasing that his eyes are screwed shut and misses the way you dip down to kiss at the tip of his cock. His eyes immediately flutter open, a flustered expression painting his face. You lap again at the head, saltiness coating your tongue, and you let out a simpering moan that has him quivering. And when you wrap your mouth entirely around his cock, sinking down along his length, he swears he’s about to fall apart. Your eyes flicker upward to meet him and the moment they lock, so sexy and dark, he has to look away for fear of busting right then and there. He reclines back against the bed once more, his hand flying out to grab at your hair.
“You’re so good to me, baby,” he rasps.
He can feel the curve of your lips against his cock as you suck him off. You do so well, too. Puffing your cheeks out, taking as much of him as you can until it feels as if he’s hitting the back of your throat. Then, you’ll suck at the tip of his cock, tongue swirling rapidly around, as your fist rubs his shaft. It’s a beautiful mix, one that inches him closer and closer to his high, and each time you switch he has to hold it together to not let go so soon. He wants to enjoy it, needs to bask in it. Your pretty mouth doing such sinful things, making him feel as if he were in heaven.
“Shit━” His hips jut forward to meet with your mouth, accidentally hitting the back of your throat without warning. You gag a little, but don’t pull away, and when he apologizes to you hastily, you only moan in response. A thought pops into his head that has him beckon aloud, “Will you be a good girl and let me fuck your mouth? Huh, baby?”
You hum in approval, eyes shimmering with glee.
So, he plants both hands in your hair, grabs at the sides of your head, and as you hollow out your cheeks, he bucks into your mouth. He does it again and again, listening to your crescendoing mewls of delight, forming a sticky mess of drool and cum that spills onto your chin.
“God, you’re so good,” Jungkook grunts. He’s a complete wreck, eyes screwing shut, blonde tresses spilling into his lashes. The muscles in his abdomen twitch with each sharp inhale of air he takes, so mesmerized by the shape of your pretty mouth around his dick, like you were made for him. “Such a good girl, huh?”
He fucks himself into your mouth roughly, frantically. Tears start to prick at your eyes from holding your breath, yet you keep yourself together just a little longer for him, lashes fluttering shut tightly.
“All mine too,” Jungkook hisses. “Wouldn’t let Yukhei do this to you, would you? Fuck, I’m━”
With your head left immobile stuck in his grasp, you hum in disapproval instead. You know he’s close when you start to hear him panting breathily. When he cums, it’s with a fractured whine and in short hot bursts onto your tongue and down your throat. You swallow as much as you can and, when he parts from you with a resonating lewd pop, you wipe away with your knuckles at the rest of his cum leaking out of the corner of your mouth and onto your chin. Dark hooded eyes meet with yours, a mischievous glint captivating them. You crawl over to him, straddling his hips once more, chasing his mouth with yours. Your own lips are so wet, coated in saliva and cum, bruised plump, but yet you’re smiling so innocently past the way he can taste himself on his tongue.
A dazed thought pops into your head that has you murmuring wistfully against him, “Say it again. I like hearing you call me baby.”
“Hmm? What about when I call you my good girl?” Jungkook nips at your lips. He grasps at your waist, flipping you over until you’re on your back beneath him. “You treat me so well, baby; you’re my only girl, you know that.”
A contented sigh sounds from you as you rut your hips in thinning desperation to meet his, so close to rubbing against his dick nestled against his thigh. He licks at his fingers hastily, reaching between the two of you to press against your clit, rubbing leisurely at the soft bundle of nerves. He’s learned how to navigate your body after months of supposed emotionless fucking, but now? Now, he felt as if his heart may just burst through his chest. Every reaction you make to his every touch ━ the needy plea to have him make you his, call you baby ━ makes him want to see more, and more.
“Am I?” You ask hoarsely. He grasps at his dick, guiding his tip to your core, so slick and wet, glistening with your own arousal. As he pushes himself in with a hiss, he watches as you contort beneath him. “Nnngh, Jungkook━”
“Fuuck,” he groans. He sinks into you, spreading your thighs further and further apart, until his hips make contact with yours. His mouth attacks yours with a feverish passion, the rumble of his moans and your whimpers muffling against one another. Then, he remembers to answer your awaiting question, barely audible between the way his tongue lavs at yours. “You are. I’m so fucking in love with you. But I don’t deserve you.”
Your hands tug impatiently at his hair. “Stop saying that.”
“But it’s true,” he hums. He’s quick to start rutting at your hips in a steady yet agonizing pace, dick burrowing into your pussy as your walls throb and shake. He can’t help but watch, mesmerized as always by the way his length slips past your folds and disappears into you. Again, and again, and again, so lewdly destroying your pretty cunt. “Just want Yukhei to touch you all over instead, don’t you?”
“No,” You croak.
You spread your thighs instinctively wider apart, allowing him to sink even further into you until it feels as if he’s hitting you so far in your stomach. Each roll of his hips is punctuated by the crude noise of skin against skin, sending you spiralling.
“Want him to do all sorts of dirty things to you, huh?”
“N-No. Fuck, Jungkook━ Harder, please━”
“That’s what you said,” Jungkook retorts. Still, he listens to your pleas, snapping his hips into yours roughly enough to send you jolting back on the bed. His hands start to roam your body, pinching at your hips, then grasping ferociously at one of your breasts. “Want him to fuck you in his car, right?” His palm feels like fire as it slides up past your collarbones to your throat. “Want him to choke you.”
His hand comes to wrap around the underside of your jaw on your throat, thumb and index finger pressing against the pressure points there. He squeezes, though with barely any force, just enough to feel your rapid pulse beneath his digits in a way that makes you so suddenly hyper aware of everything he’s doing to you. Cock stretching you wide, palm heavy around your throat, mouth folding over yours. So caught up in the overwhelming sensations you’re feeling, you can’t tell if he’s genuinely upset with himself, though you suspect part of him is. You can sense it in the way he clings to you a little tighter, can see it laced within his dazzling pupils.
Jungkook huffs, hair flopping into his eyes as he grits his teeth and ruts his hips faster into you if only to see more of your pretty little reactions. Your jaw unhinges at the feeling, head falling back onto the pillows. “He could probably treat you nicer too.”
You shake your head wildly, fingers digging into the skin on his shoulders. “Just want you, Koo.”
“Still?” he asks. His grip on your neck fastens a little more, pure euphoria riddling all your senses and making you writhe beneath him. “God, you’re such a dumb little slut, aren’t you?”
You nod in your groggy exhaustion, the familiar burn coiling in your stomach, making your toes curl.
Jungkook feels your own high approach. Your walls are clenched so tightly around him, he has to sputter for air. “Could he make you feel like this?”
“No, Koo,” You whine. “Only you.”
“Yeah?” Jungkook growls. “Good girl. Gonna cum around my dick like the good little slut you are?”
Your hips ricochet upwards to meet his, relentless pounding into your core. “Please, please━”
Jungkook quickens his pace until you’ve deteriorated into absolute shambles, whimpering his name after each thrust. You tumble towards your high, cuming around his length as he burrows it into you again and again, and all he can think is mine, mine, mine. As you unravel beneath him, he slides his hand off of your throat and slithers it underneath you and around your waist, hoisting you slightly enough off the bed so that he can reach his own orgasm. He’s a little more frantic now, sloppy and restless as he pummels into you.
“Shit, baby━” he cries out. “Oh, fuck, you’re so good━”
As you come down from your high enough, you somehow manage to murmur drowsily, “Cum in me, Koo. Wanna feel it.”
You grab at his face, pulling him down to catch his lips on yours, and the thought is so tempting he can’t refuse. He gets so lost in your lips, cuming with one final slam of his hips into yours and a chorus of curses mingling with your name in whimpers. He rides out both of your highs with a few half-hearted thrusts, more concerned with kissing you in useless open-mouthed kisses as your own mouth parts with one last weary moan while he fills you up.
When he’s spent, he collapses against your chest, and you collapse onto the bed. It’s quiet long enough for the both of you to calm the shrill beat of your hearts when you feel Jungkook stir, moving to part from you, pulling his dick from your swollen pussy and planting a lingering peck on your cheek. He disappears momentarily but returns a few seconds later, towel in hand which he uses to wipe at your core now leaking with his cum and your heart croons at all his tender touches.
It makes you realize all at once that, god, yes, you’re so in love with your idiot best friend and he’s so in love with you.
He turns to look at you, an adoring smile dancing upon his lips when he sees your own radiant beaming face. You beckon him over and he relents, letting you pull him into your arms. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck as he wraps his own arms around you to tug you closer to his side. As your fingers come to rake through his sweaty hair, he cranes his neck to follow your hand and hear him coo against your neck, “That feels so good.”
A sudden thought crosses your mind that has you smirking smally to yourself. “Are we… Are we cuddling? Jungkook, I thought you didn’t like cuddling. Said it was, and I quote, sentimental bullshit.”
“I never liked it because it wasn’t with you. Didn’t wanna waste my time on someone that wasn’t you,” Jungkook hums, matter-of-fact. You can tell he’s a little embarrassed at the way you so casually taunt him about such an obvious fact, though he’s fortunate you can’t see him smiling like a complete fool. “And I wanna do all that sentimental bullshit with only you. Now, shush━” He scolds you playfully. “M’so tired and I just wanna hold you tight.”
“Can’t argue with that.” Your heart leaps in your chest. “Just promise me one thing?”
It’s only then that he lifts his sleepy gaze to find yours, apprehensive of any potentially looming severity in your words. “Anything.”
Instead, all he can find is the way you trace your finger along the details of his face, from his nose, to his cheekbones, down to the freckle under his lip with the hand that sports your friendship bracelet. “In the morning, when we wake up, you’ll still be here to hold me tight. And every other morning after that.”
His smile widens even more, if that was even possible. “Wouldn’t want it any other way. But━”
“On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
His eyes sparkle cheekily. “Kiss me.”
So, you do, again and again and again; and Jungkook thinks, yeah, he certainly can get used to this.
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It takes you a month to cave in to Jungkook’s incessant pleas to fuck you to his sex playlist. You do it mostly to humour him, though part of you is a little bit intrigued at the thought.
Stowed away in his room, he eats you out to the choruses of sultry The Weeknd and raunchy Ariana Grande songs, fucks you to the likes of the Neighbourhood and Kim Petras while you’re on all fours, and you’re only half-paying attention to the music until you hear it. Admittedly, you almost completely miss it but you blame Jungkook and the way he’s making you currently feel, sprawled out beneath him, chests pressed flush against one another in a sweaty, sticky mess, breathy and glorious moans of your name filling your ears when━
“I had no choice but to hear you. You stated your case time and again━”
The dulcet chime of Alanis Morissette thrums about the room, a complete and utter shift in contrast in the atmosphere that has you immediately pausing.
“Jungkook.” But he knows what you set out to say even before you do, judging by the tone in your voice and the stifling smirk on his face. You gawk at him, biting at your lip to hide your laughter but you fail miserably. “You weren’t joking?”
He shrugs innocently, leaving you just as dumbfounded as you were two seconds ago. Instead, he says, “Gotta do what I promised then, don’t I?”
You quirk a brow. “What was that exactly?”
“Gotta give you the best orgasm of your life.”
“If you can do that to cheesy 90s pop, I’ll have your actual babies, Jungkook.” The effort is endearing and impressive, to say the least.
A roll of your eyes is met with a taunting roll of his hips into yours that wipes the jest off your face immediately. He grins like a madman, uttering a little stupidly, and a little ardently, “Say no more.”
Because, all things considered and joking aside, he wants it with you ━ the dazed daydreamy talk of a future together and kids, friendship bracelets, and cuddles in the morning. Because you mean the world to him and more. Because you’re his best friend, and he’s so madly in love with you.
Because he wants it all with you.
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junghelioseok · 7 months ago
it takes two.
↳ struggling with the idea of your ex-boyfriend moving on, you enlist the help of your quiet roommate in a scheme that quickly spirals out of control.
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◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fake dating!au | roommate!au  ◇ 29.8k [1/1]
⇢ full (and by full, i mean less vague) summary: you don’t need retrospect to tell you that dating a coworker was a bad idea. two months after your breakup, he seems to have moved on to someone new—and quite happily, if his social media is to be believed. meanwhile, the only new thing in your life is your roommate, jungkook, who seems nice enough. just nice enough to coax into coming to your company’s annual holiday party, and more than handsome enough to show off a little bit. or, as it turns out, a lot.
notes: my contribution to the once upon a holiday... collab with the lovely @underthejoon​, @fantasybangtan​, @kpopfanfictrash​, @lamourche​, @hobidreams​, and @suga-kookiemonster​! shoutout to @bendthekneetobangtan​ as well, who is the best cheerleader of all time 💕
warnings: this fic is just 3 (dozen) tropes in a trenchcoat, aNd ThEy WeRe RoOmAtEs, slow burn, one (1) awkward boner, tatted!kook, long-haired!kook, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, jk’s big dick, squirting. not as edited as i would like but oh well 🤷🏻‍♀️
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You feel sick.
Your heart stutters in your chest, missing two whole beats before taking off into a strident gallop that hammers dangerously against the slats of your ribcage. Warmth rushes to your cheeks, unbidden, and spreads through your veins like wildfire. Sour bile rises up in your throat, and no matter how you try to swallow it down, it refuses to dissipate—just like the photograph lighting up your phone screen.
The photograph of your ex-boyfriend, his face creased into that familiar dimpled smile and his arm wrapped snugly around his new girlfriend.
Maybe you’re being dramatic, but you imagine that this is what it feels like to witness a car accident or watch a building go up in flames. The sight is horrific, your heart twisting painfully in on itself, and yet you can’t tear yourself away. It’s only when your phone begins to buzz in your hand, the sound loud as a gunshot in the silence, that you break out of your trance. Your best friend’s grinning face eclipses that of your ex-boyfriend and his companion, and you take a moment to gather yourself before swiping to answer.
“Hi, Minnie,” you sigh into the receiver. “What’s up?”
Your best friend, as always, forgoes all preamble. “Did you see it?”
Resignedly, you plop down in one of the chairs in the dining room, propping your chin in your palm. “I saw,” you confirm, your voice small.
Jimin grunts. “Good, because I have thoughts,” he declares bluntly. “She’s not even as pretty as you. And her fashion sense? Atrocious. A crime against humanity. Probably a violation of the Geneva Convention, too. And if not, it should be.”
He’s trying to make you feel better, and you know it. Throughout your years of friendship, Jimin has always been the one to pull you out of the dark places you occasionally find yourself lost in, dragging you out of your spiraling misery and keeping you sane. But today, you’re unwilling to let him drag you out.
Today, you want to wallow.
“She looks nice,” you mumble, putting him on speaker and thumbing back over to the photograph. “Cute, too. I guess it was just a matter of time before he moved on, huh?”
On the other end of the line, Jimin clicks his tongue. “It’s been, what, two months? I say good riddance. Throw the whole man away.”
You snort. “Pretty hard to do when you work with the guy. And please—don’t lecture me again. I know dating a coworker was a bad idea, okay?”
Jimin sighs, and even without seeing him, you know he’s running a frazzled hand through his hair. “Fine, fine. I won’t. But what are you gonna do about the party?”
There it is—the question you’ve been dreading. Every year, your company throws a lavish holiday party, renting out space in one of the fanciest hotels in the city and filling it full of drinks, food, and general merriment. You, like the rest of your colleagues, look forward to it all year, and this Christmas marks your fourth company party. But now that Namjoon won’t be by your side for the festivities, your heart sinks down to somewhere around your toes. “I don’t know yet,” you admit. “Do you think he’ll bring her?”
“Probably,” Jimin answers honestly. “Will you be okay if he does?”
You exhale heavily and wake your phone screen, staring wistfully down at Namjoon’s smiling face. “I don’t know,” you repeat. “Maybe I should just skip.”
Jimin snorts. “What, and wallow in your own misery all night? Absolutely not. You still have a few weeks, right? That’s enough time to secure a hot date to the stupid thing. Show him that you’re not the only one who’s moved on.”
It’s your turn to snort. “You know I’m not ready to start dating again,” you tell him bluntly. “Or have you forgotten about my plan to move to the forest and live with a dozen cats? Why don’t you just come to the party with me instead?”
He hums thoughtfully. “Namjoon knows me, though. You need to go with someone he doesn’t know—someone that will make him wonder. Someone like—”
The front door opens with a bang, cutting Jimin off mid-sentence and revealing your roommate standing in the entryway with flushed cheeks and a sheepish grin. “Hi,” he says, checking the wall behind the door to make sure it hasn’t been dented. “Sorry about that. It’s really windy outside.”
“Is that Jungkook?” Jimin’s voice filters through the speaker. “Hey, Jungkook!”
Jungkook looks at you and mouths, Jimin? When you nod, he chuckles and pulls off his black beanie, raking a tattooed hand through his tousled hair. He’s clearly just returned from a run, his cheeks flushed from exertion and cold, and you flash him a small smile as he grabs a clean glass from the cabinet and fills it to the brim with water from the sink. “Hey, Jimin,” he says after he takes a long gulp. “What are you two up to?”
“Dastardly schemes, among other things,” Jimin says breezily, the smile evident in his voice. “We were just talking about you, actually.”
You frown, confused. Jungkook’s brows disappear behind the shaggy fringe falling across his forehead, and you meet his curious gaze and shrug before looking back at the device in your hand. “We were?”
Even through the phone, you can sense the smugness radiating off of your best friend. “Of course we were. Namjoon might know me, but he sure as hell doesn’t know Jungkook. It’s perfect.”
There’s a beat of silence as the meaning behind his words sinks in, and then your jaw drops. “Jimin, no! Are you insane?”
“Only a little bit,” Jimin replies. “But I’m also right. It’s a good idea, and you know it.”
“It’s a terrible idea, and you know it,” you retort, slapping a hand to your forehead.
From his spot in the kitchen, Jungkook raises his hand, looking thoroughly perturbed and still holding half a glass of water. “Um, hello? Does someone want to fill me in here?”
“Sure, dude,” Jimin replies. “{Name} wants you to be her fake date to a party. You in?”
You nearly fall out of your chair. “That’s not—! You can’t just—oh my god, Jimin.” Spluttering helplessly, you cast your roommate a beseeching look. “Jungkook. You went to college with Jimin, so I don’t have to apologize for his insane behavior, right? Please. Please don’t listen to him.”
“Au contraire, you should listen to me,” Jimin cuts in, sounding affronted. “I don’t see you coming up with a better idea.”
You throw your hands up in the air. “I was just going to skip!”
“Lame,” Jimin snorts. “Not to mention cowardly. Don’t you want to get back at Namjoon?”
“It’s not high on my list of priorities, no!”
“Huh. Well then. Jungkook, how would you like a free dinner two Saturdays from now?”
Jungkook, who has been following your conversation with an expression caught somewhere between bemusement and amusement, visibly perks up at the mention of food. “Dinner?”
“Okay, no.” Dropping your phone down onto the kitchen counter, you wave your hands in protest. “Everyone needs to hang on and take a big fucking step backwards. This is an insane idea. Actually, it’s barely even an idea. It’s terrible, and I’m not doing it.”
When Jimin speaks again, you’re positive that he’s rolling his eyes. “Why not? Give me one good reason. The two of you live together, anyway, so you’re either going to get drunk at the house with Jungkook, or you’re going to go to a super fun party and get drunk with Jungkook. Why wouldn’t you choose the free party?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because my ex-boyfriend is going to be at the free party?” You huff. “Besides, I’m sure Jungkook doesn’t want to come. He probably has way better things to do.”
“Um.” Jungkook raises his hand again. “I’m still here, you know.”
Emboldened, Jimin starts addressing him directly. “Free dinner and free booze, Jungkook,” he says. “And {Name}’ll do all the dishes for a month.”
“I am absolutely not going to do that,” you cut in, but your best friend pays you no mind.
“So? Whaddaya think?”
Jungkook shrugs, his gaze flitting over to you tentatively. “I don’t really have anything else going on that day,” he admits slowly. “So, sure. Why not?”
It’s a wonder your jaw hasn’t detached entirely by the end of his casual acquiescence. “Jungkook—” you begin, but the words to finish your sentence prove evasive. Your roommate is painfully handsome—you’d have to be blind not to see that. The sweatshirt he’s wearing runs about three sizes too big, but his black joggers leave very little to the imagination and it’s near impossible not to notice the definition of his thighs beneath the fleecy material. Jungkook takes tall, dark, and handsome to a whole new level—and his inky tattoos and obvious athleticism are the bright ribbon that ties the whole package together.
And it would be so easy to instill jealousy in your ex by bringing Jungkook to the holiday party. It would be the easiest thing in the world.
“Are you sure?” you finally croak.
Jungkook offers you a crooked little smile—one that shows off his adorably prominent front teeth and dimples one of his cheeks. “I’m not really one to turn down free food and booze.”
On the other end of the line, Jimin claps his hands in delight. “It’s settled, then,” he crows. “Should we seal the deal with a kiss, or—?”
You jab at the screen of your phone, missing the end call button several times before finally finding your mark. “Goodbye, Jimin.”
The line goes dead, and in the absence of your best friend’s laughter, the silence that falls over you and Jungkook is deafening. “I can’t believe you want to come to this party,” you say at last, breaking the lull when it finally becomes too much. “It’s not too late to back out, you know. Jimin will never know.”
Jungkook shrugs—his shoulders shifting beneath his baggy black sweatshirt. “Like I said, I don’t have anything else going on. Besides, Jimin’s actually right for once. You should go. Just because your ex will be there doesn’t mean you have to miss out on a fancy work perk.” Then he grins. “Plus, I’m pretty sure I can nail this fake date thing. I’ll hold your hand and laugh at all your jokes.”
His grin is infectious, you realize, as your lips begin tugging upward at the corners. “Well consider me sold,” you tell him. “You’re hired, Jeon.” Reaching out, you extend a hand for him to shake.
Jungkook laughs and takes it, his warm fingers curling around yours. “Then it’s a date.”
“So, I think we should lay down some ground rules.”
It’s barely ten in the morning, and Jungkook has clearly just woken up if his drooping lids and petulant frown are any indication. He’s seated at the tall counter that divides the kitchen from the living room, midway through a bowl of cereal, and you watch him blink blearily in your direction as you enter the kitchen and open the fridge. “Mmm,” he hums.
A little over a month into cohabitating with Jeon Jungkook, and you’ve slowly grown more adept at deciphering the half-coherent mumbles he makes before he’s fully cognizant in the mornings. Taking this one as a sign that he is, in fact, listening to what you have to say, you continue. “First off, you’re sworn to secrecy, got it? Jimin’s enough of a blabbermouth as it is, and while I don’t think he’ll tell anyone, I just—” You sigh. “I want to make sure it looks like we’re actually… dating. Namjoon’s on Instagram a lot, so we might want to take a few photos together and post some stuff about each other. And maybe we should… actually go on a date?”
Jungkook looks up from his bowl so quickly you fear he might have snapped his neck, and you immediately backtrack. “It’s totally cool if you don’t want to!” you amend, sticking your head into the fridge and rooting around for some orange juice so you don’t have to look him in the eye. “We can just… I don’t know. Snap a photo every now and then on the way to the grocery store or something. No big deal.”
“Mmmph,” Jungkook says. He swallows his mouthful of cereal, his upper lip painted white, and you silently grab a paper towel from the roll and hand it to him. “Thanks,” he grunts, wiping at his mouth.
There’s a pause—one that lasts several beats until Jungkook breaks it. “We do have to go to the grocery store soon,” he says, jabbing a thumb at the admittedly sad state of your refrigerator. “There’s a park on the way there—you know the one I’m talking about? The one with the fountain?” At your nod, his lips quirk up. “Maybe we can have our fake date there. Take photos, and all that.”
You blink. “Really? You’re willing to do it?”
He shrugs and drops his spoon back into his bowl with a clatter. “Sure. You wanna go today? I still have to shower and get dressed—” he gestures down at his baggy flannel pants and oversized t-shirt, “—but I can be quick.”
“I’ll eat fast,” you agree, grabbing the loaf of bread off the counter and shoving two slices into the toaster. “Leave in an hour?”
Jungkook nods and stands up, rinsing out his bowl and dropping it into the dishwasher. You plop down into his abandoned seat with your breakfast, watching as he masks a yawn with his hand before shuffling back down the hallway to his bedroom and shutting the door behind him. Taking a bite out of your toast, you pull your phone out of your pocket with your free hand and thumb through your latest notifications. Your heart sinks when you see an update from one kimdaily, but you click it open nonetheless, steeling your nerves for what you might see.
The photograph, when it loads, is of Namjoon standing in front of a row of pine trees, his ashy silver hair tucked beneath a black beanie. You barely make it through the caption—something about Christmas tree shopping with his best friend and the love of his life, and how lucky he is that they’re one and the same—before slapping your phone back down onto the counter and willing your racing heart to calm. The bubble of emotion welling up in your chest threatens to burst forth from your throat, and you quickly drain the glass of juice at your elbow before standing up to pour yourself another.
That’s how Jungkook finds you three minutes later—standing at the sink with your glass in hand. His hair is still dripping from the shower, a red towel draped around his neck to catch any stray water droplets, and when he approaches you can smell the vague scent of bergamot wafting your way. He’s dressed in ripped jeans and a blue and gray sweater, and it’s all you can do to return the smile he flashes you as he fishes his black Timberlands out of the hall closet.
“Ready to go?” he asks.
You take a deep breath and set down your glass, nodding. Grabbing your purse from its spot near the door, you shove two reusable canvas grocery bags inside before slipping into your jacket. Jungkook shrugs on his own coat, patting his pockets to check for his wallet and keys, and, upon verifying both, gestures for you to exit first so he can lock the door behind the two of you.
There’s a noticeable chill in the air as you step out onto the front steps of your townhouse—a hint of impending winter in every breath you take. The streets aren’t too crowded yet, and you’re grateful for that as you and Jungkook set off in the direction of the grocery store. Inhaling deeply, you let your feet carry you on autopilot as your mind wanders.
“{Name}?” Jungkook’s voice breaks you out of your reverie. “We’re here.”
Startled, you glance up—first at him, and then at your surroundings. “This isn’t the store.”
He chuckles. “We’re stopping at the park, remember?” And instead of teasing or making you feel like an idiot, he simply veers off the main sidewalk and onto the meandering cobblestone path that winds through the entirety of the park, cutting through the fading grass and weaving in and out of a grove of trees desperately clinging on to the last of their browning leaves.
For a few minutes, the two of you stroll in silence. Jungkook—though you’ve only known him for a month and a half—is a comfortable presence to be around, and is an exceedingly considerate roommate on top of that. You’d had your qualms back when Jimin introduced him to you as the friend of a friend from university, but your last roommate had just moved out and you were sadly lacking the resources to cover rent by yourself. Jungkook moved in mere weeks after your breakup with Namjoon, and never so much as blinked when you brought a pint of ice cream to bed three nights in a row. And while you aren’t sure that you’d consider him a friend just yet, the potential is certainly there.
Putting aside the current boyfriend ruse, of course.
“Hey,” you murmur as the two of you reach a particularly picturesque curve in the path. “Stand still for a second.”
Jungkook obligingly pauses mid-step, blinking against the morning sunlight before looking up at the phone you’ve angled in his direction. “Picture for the ‘gram?” he asks, and you nod.
It takes a few moments for the camera to focus, but when it does, you snap the photo and zoom in to take a closer look. Jungkook joins you, peering curiously over your shoulder, and you tilt the screen so he can see better. “What do you think? Not bad, right?”
“Not bad,” he replies, and you take that as approval to make your post. Opening up Instagram, you worry your bottom lip for a moment before tapping a few keys.
“How’s that?” you ask once you’ve posted the photo, showing him your screen. Simultaneously, Jungkook’s own phone buzzes in his pocket with a notification.
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“Nice hashtag,” he remarks, chuckling. “Can we talk about how terrible the last season of that show was, though?”
“Oh my god, yes,” you reply, throwing your hands up into the air. “Shall I start? What was up with Jon and Dany, anyway?”
Ten minutes later, you arrive at the grocery store, still fuming about the Lannister siblings’ nonsensical demise as you enter through the sliding automatic doors. Jungkook grabs a cart, and you follow after him as he pushes it past the display of bananas right at the entrance. “Need any fruit?” he asks.
You nod, picking out a few apples from a nearby pile and placing them gingerly in a bag. “We’re running low on onions and garlic; can you grab those? I’ll meet up with you in the dairy aisle once I’m done here.”
Obediently, Jungkook trots off, leaving you with the cart. You take your time perusing the remainder of the fruit section, carefully picking out what you want, and you’re just about to move on to the vegetables when your phone buzzes.
[11:21am] Jungkook: almost forgot, can you grab a few oranges and some spinach for me?
You text back in the affirmative and tuck your phone back into your pocket. By the time you finally make it to the dairy aisle, Jungkook is already there, holding a full gallon of milk and touting a half-filled basket that has significantly more in it than just onions and garlic.
“What else did you get?” you ask curiously.
He shrugs. “Bread, cheese. Some cold brew.”
You wouldn’t have pinned your dark-haired, dark-clothed, and tattooed roommate as a french vanilla kind of guy, but the little blue label on the bottle is impossible to dispute. The sight has your lips curling up at the edges, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow when he spots your expression.
Still smiling, you shake your head. “It’s nothing.”
Several days pass before your next excursion—as you’ve taken to calling them—with Jungkook. The weather forecast predicted overcast skies and scattered showers this morning, but neither of those matter where you’re currently standing, waiting in line to get your shoes. Behind you, a raucous cheer goes up as a mess of bowling pins crashes to the ground.
When you return to your designated lane, Jungkook has already slipped out of his black Timberlands and is waiting for you in socked feet, wiggling his toes in the pinstriped wool. They’re a stark contrast to the rest of his black ensemble, a matching black baseball cap perched atop his wavy hair, and you raise an eyebrow at the sight. “Are those candy cane socks?” you ask in amazement, and Jungkook grins and nods in affirmation.
A burst of laughter escapes you, high and bright in the neon air. The bowling alley rings with the sounds of clattering pins, the entire room smelling of pizza grease and whatever wax they use on the lanes, but all of that fades into the background as you and Jungkook lace up your shoes and pick out your bowling balls. “So, how good are you at bowling, anyway?” you ask, settling on a deep blue ball that’s marbled through with white and silver like a tiny galaxy.
Jungkook hefts his own ball—hot bubblegum pink flecked with varying shades of the same color—and flashes you a mischievous grin. “Why don’t we start playing and find out?”
Suspiciously, you narrow your eyes at him. “I don’t like the sound of that.” Nonetheless, you take your spot at the top of the lane, turning around to watch as Jungkook inputs your names into the computer that monitors your score. “Ready?”
Jungkook gives you a double thumbs-up. “Ready.”
It’s been many years since you’ve last gone bowling. Your fingers feel awkward in the holes, and the weight of the ball is unwieldy against your open palm. Steeling yourself, you take a few steps forward before releasing the ball, watching as it rolls laboriously down the lane. It veers off course halfway down, and you shake your head as it takes out a single pin at the very corner of the formation.
“Well,” you remark, turning back to face your companion, “at least I didn’t embarrass myself completely with a gutter ball.”
Jungkook laughs. “Hey, look on the bright side. Maybe you’ll get a spare.”
“Maybe that’s wishful thinking,” you retort, reclaiming your ball from the machine and rolling it down the lane once more. This time, it stays on course, knocking over four more pins, and you sigh as you plop down onto the chair next to Jungkook. “In my defense, I was probably fourteen the last time I went bowling.” you tell him. “Your turn.”
Jungkook is already halfway out of his seat. He grabs his pink ball and comes to a stop in the center of the lane, and you watch as he rolls his shoulders and takes a deep breath, standing deathly still for one long, lingering moment. Then he’s stepping off, his strides as quick as they are smooth, throwing his leg and arm out to one side just before he rears back and releases his bowling ball.
And all the pins at the end of the lane come crashing down, because of course they do.
“Guess that’s a strike,” Jungkook says, glancing back at you. He’s fighting a smile, his lips twitching at the corners, and you fix him with a mock glare as he takes a seat beside you once more.
“So this is why you suggested bowling. You’re some kind of pro.”
“Hey, that’s not true,” he protests, the irrepressible smile finally breaking across his face. “I’ll teach you, if you want. It’s not that hard once you get the hang of it.”
“Easy for you to say,” you grumble, just loud enough so that he can hear you over the raucous bowling alley noise. Still, you follow after him as he stands up to retrieve your ball, and accept it when he hands it over. He grabs his own ball as well, and motions for you to watch closely as he slowly mimes out the motions of his step and release method.
“Make sense?” he asks once he’s finished, straightening back up to his full height.
You frown. “I’m not sure, honestly. I still don’t really understand how your leg ends up where it does.”
“You mean this?” Jungkook crouches down and sweeps his leg backward again, throwing his arm out for balance as well. When you nod, he hums in understanding and sets his ball down. “Here, maybe it’ll help if I walk you through it. May I?”
His palm is mere inches from your shoulder, and you realize, with a start, that he’s asking for permission to touch you. The thoughtfulness of the gesture has your heart pounding, skipping several beats before racing to catch up.
“Sure,” you say once your heartbeat has settled back into an even cadence. “I guess you can try to make me a better bowler. Don’t think you’ll have much luck, though.”
That earns you a chuckle, his breath hot against the nape of your neck as he steps behind you and gently taps your arm. “Can’t fault a guy for trying,” he says. “Here, step off on this side, okay? You can hold the ball with both hands right now, but you’ll want to start pulling it back around the second step or so.”
You take one step forward and raise your opposite foot to take a second. “Like this?”
“Yeah,” he confirms, his voice soft. He’s close enough to prickle your skin with gooseflesh by this point, moving with you to guide each of your motions, and your breath hitches when he reaches around you to grasp your hand in his larger one. “Now pull your arm back, like this. You want all the momentum you can get.”
“Right,” you whisper, letting him take the lead. His chest is nearly flush with your back, his lips at your ear, and your cheeks warm as he gently urges your arm back, his fingers winding around your wrist until the pad of his thumb presses against your pulsepoint. His free hand finds the elbow of your other arm, nudging it outward to help you maintain your balance as you swing forward to release the ball. Vaguely, you wonder if he can feel the sudden uptick in your heart rate.
“Here’s where the leg comes in,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear, drawing you out of your thoughts. “Sweep it back and to the side like—yeah, exactly like that! Nice.”
Without warning, Jungkook steps back, and you very nearly lose your balance when the warmth of his body disappears. Luckily, you’ve already let go of the bowling ball by then, and its trajectory remains unimpacted by your stumble. Eight pins tumble to the ground, and you let out a delighted cheer as your ball disappears into the depths and begins its unseen journey back to you. “Did you see that?” you ask, whirling around to look at Jungkook. “Eight!”
Jungkook is already on his way over to give you a congratulatory high-five, his eyes sparkling in the neon glow of the bowling alley and his face lit up with a grin. “That was awesome,” he says. “Now, why don’t we see if you can get those other two pins?”
If picking up spares is an art form, then Jeon Jungkook is Pablo Picasso. No matter how many pins he knocks down in the first frame, he always manages to get the rest in the second, and you watch on in amazement as his score crawls ever higher, aided by two strikes in a row. “One forty-six,” you sigh, shaking your head at him as he plops down into his chair and throws back a giant sip of soda. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Eighty isn’t a bad score,” Jungkook replies, trying and failing to hide a satisfied grin as he recaps his bottle. “Really.”
“Easy for you to say when you scored sixty-six more points than me,” you retort, sticking out your tongue at him. “Honestly. Who just bowls a one forty-six like it’s nothing?”
Jungkook shrugs and bends down to unlace his shoes. “Three hundred is a perfect score.”
“You say that like you’ve done it before.”
“God, no.” He snorts. “That’s league-level stuff, and even then, it’s hard as fuck. The highest I’ve ever bowled is a one eighty-five.”
Laughing, you reach down to loosen your own laces. “I’d be over the moon if I ever got a score that high. Hell, I’d be happy breaking a hundred.”
“Hey, you were getting pretty good by the end,” he points out, toeing off his bowling shoes and slipping his feet back into his trustworthy Timberlands. “We can come back sometime. Practice a little more.”
“You’re talking about coming back, but I don’t think I can even leave.” Exasperated, you lean back in your seat and stare down at the laces on your shoes, which have somehow gotten tangled up into an enormous knot. The harder you tug, the more it seems to tighten, and you groan when trying to pry the shoe off only results in an ache in your heel. “Ow, goddammit. How does this even happen?”
“It would probably help if you stopped pulling so hard, for starters,” Jungkook says dryly. Dropping down to his knees, he nudges your hands away and replaces them with his own. “Here, quit doing that and let me help. I’m pretty good with knots.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Do I want to know why?”
Jungkook glances up at you with a crooked little smile and a twinkle in his eye. “I was a Boy Scout. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“Mmhmm. Sure you were,” you tease.
Thirty seconds later, Jungkook lets out a triumphant little exclamation. The knot in your laces is gone, and you gratefully slip out of the uncomfortable bowling shoes and back into your own boots. Together, the two of you return your footwear to the counter before heading for the exit, the fresh air a welcome change from the smell of frying oil and spilled soda. The sky outside is steadily darkening into evening, a light drizzle dampening the sidewalk at your feet, and you wordlessly pull out your umbrella. Beside you, Jungkook does the same.
The soft pitter-patter of raindrops fills the hush that’s fallen between you as you walk past the myriad maze of downtown shops, a soothing overhead melody as you head back toward your shared home.
A week passes, and after a stressful workday and several forced interactions with your ex-boyfriend, you and Jungkook find yourselves at a rooftop restaurant just a few blocks away from your home. You’re seated beneath a crisscross of string lights that have yet to be turned on, the glass bulbs reflecting the light of the setting sun, and much like your fellow diners, you are looking forward to enjoying the final warm day of the season. Sounds of laughter and chatter fill the open air, intermingling with the soft clink of silverware against plates and backed by the muted hum of traffic from below.
Today marks your third and final excursion with Jungkook, and you fully intend to treat him to a nice dinner as a thank you for the last couple of weeks. He’s been nothing but amenable since agreeing to go along with your scheme, and you’re beyond grateful for his support. You have no doubt that your ex has seen all the photographs you’ve been posting, and wonder what—if anything—Namjoon is thinking.
Then again, you suppose you’ll find out all about that tomorrow. In the meantime, you’ll enjoy a nice meal with your roommate, and maybe a cocktail or two. But first—
“Ready?” you ask, pulling out your phone and thumbing over to the camera.
Jungkook nods. He’s wearing what you recognize as his nice jeans—a faded pair with only one small rip per knee—and coupled them with a collared shirt in deep navy. The first few buttons are undone, a striped tie sitting loosely at the hollow of his throat, and every time he shifts in his seat you’re afforded a glimpse of the black ink that trails along the right side of his clavicle.
“Can you move to the left a little bit?” you ask. “I can barely see your face right now—it’s all shadowy.”
Jungkook complies, leaning slightly and turning his head toward the light. The setting sun illuminates him in hazy gold, lending him an almost ethereal glow, and you snap several photos before you realize you’ve taken way more than you need.
“Good,” you tell him, swallowing thickly. “That’s good. Here, take a look.”
Jungkook peers curiously at your phone, swiping through the photos you’ve taken, and you take the opportunity to sip at your water and gather your wits about you once more.
“So? What do you think?”
“I like this one,” Jungkook says, tapping your screen. You lean over to see the photograph he’s selected, and nod your agreement as he zooms in on it. Opening up Instagram, you create a new post, mulling briefly over the caption before deciding on something simple and hitting post.
You’re forced to put your phone away when your server stops by to take your drink order. Jungkook requests a pint of whatever beer they have on tap, and you decide on the house red—a mild pinot noir. By the time the server departs, your post already has several likes, as well as a comment from Jimin that simply reads: date night? 👉🏻👌🏻👀
You respond with a string of eye roll emojis. Jungkook has pulled out his own phone by this point, and you raise a curious eyebrow when he snorts out a laugh.
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“Jimin?” you ask.
“Jimin,” he confirms with a nod. “I’m half-tempted to respond, but I’m not sure that I’ll come out unscathed.”
“You probably won’t, which means you really shouldn’t. That guy has emoji use down to a science, and it’s usually best to just ignore him—that’s what I do.” Laughing, you pick up your menu and scan the seasonal offerings. “Besides, we have way more important things to talk about, like appetizers. Do you want to share something?”
“Sure,” Jungkook says agreeably, flipping open his own menu and scanning the first page. “What were you thinking?”
“Everything they serve here is delicious, and I’m not even exaggerating,” you tell him as you grab the bottle of water the server left in the middle of the table and reach over to fill his glass. “Dinner’s on me tonight, so pick whatever you want. I’ll even waive my usual two-drink limit.”
Jungkook laughs. “Wow, really? I’m honored.”
“As you should be,” you tell him with a grin.
By the time your drinks arrive, the two of you have decided on your food as well. You take a sip of wine as the server departs again, leaning back in your chair, and let your gaze rove across the surrounding tables for a moment before speaking again.
“So. About tomorrow.”
Jungkook sets his beer down, the glass thumping gently against the wood. “The big day,” he agrees. “What do you need from me?”
His question gives you pause. You’ve known that he was going to act as your party date for weeks now, but you haven’t actually put much consideration into what that would actually entail. Thinking back to past years, you can safely assume that there will be live music, though you can’t remember the name of the band that was listed on your email invitation now. “Can you dance?” you blurt.
Jungkook doesn’t seem fazed by the sudden question. “A little bit,” he answers with a shrug. “Nothing fancy, but I can usually pull off a decent waltz if the occasion calls for it.”
“Even if the occasion calls for you to waltz to a questionable band cover of Despacito?” you ask, raising your eyebrows. Amusement etches its way across Jungkook’s face, his face creasing into a grin, and you suddenly notice that he has a freckle just beneath his bottom lip, just off from the center.
“You’re kidding.”
“I most certainly am not,” you reply, tearing your gaze away from his mouth. “The lead singer didn’t speak a word of Spanish, and the pronunciation was atrocious. I wish you’d heard it.”
“Me too.” Jungkook chuckles. “Any chance they’ll be back this year? Do you think they take requests?”
“Doesn’t hurt to ask,” you reply with a giggle, picking up your wine glass and taking another sip.
The last few rays of golden sunlight disappear beyond the horizon, painting the sky in fiery hues of orange and red that slowly settle into dusky purples and cloudy blues. Overhead, the string lights turn on, illuminating the table in soft, warm light. Your appetizers arrive, and the server comes around to refill your drinks and bring you a fresh bottle of water.
“Well?” you ask as Jungkook takes his first bite.
“Mmmph,” he replies, his cheeks bulging. You grin, waiting for him to swallow, and he hides his laughter behind his palm as he washes everything down with a swig of water. “You weren’t kidding,” he says, already eyeing the plate for his next mouthful. “That might be the most delicious thing I’ve ever had.”
Pleased, you pick out a morsel of your own and pop it into your mouth. “Told you.”
“I never doubted you for a second,” he replies, picking up his fork in earnest and digging in again.
Comfortable silence settles over the two of you as the meal progresses. You’re halfway through your entrees, having just started a conversation about the merits of toe socks, when your phone buzzes against the wooden table and rattles your silverware against the ceramic of your plate. Picking it up reveals that kimdaily has once again made a post, and your heart does a backflip as you swipe open the notification.
They’re at an arcade. You recognize the venue immediately, having been there once before when you were still the subject of his photographs and social media posts. He’s grinning that dimpled grin that used to warm you from the inside out, his face occupying the entire left side of the photo. In the background, his girlfriend poses with a basketball, the scoreboard above the hoop lit with what must be a new high score.
Jungkook must sense the shift in your mood, because he stops mid-bite to glance up at you with round eyes. “What’s up?”
You let your phone screen go dark, dropping it back onto the table. “It’s nothing,” you tell him, and know you’ve been caught in a lie when his brow immediately furrows.
“Do you think I’m stupid?” he asks, setting his fork down and wiping at his mouth with a napkin. “Come on, {Name}. What did he post now?”
Wordlessly, you unlock your phone and push it across the table. He scans the photograph quietly, his lips tugging down at the corners, and when he looks up again his expression is solemn.
“I kick ass at that game, you know.”
Taken aback, you blink. “What?”
He nods at the photo. “That basketball game. I’m fucking awesome. The secret is climbing over the divider and getting up close so you make every shot.”
A startled laugh leaves your lips, half amusement and half disbelief. “Are you admitting that you cheat?”
Jungkook shakes his head and taps his temple. “Of course not. I’m saying that I like to think outside the bun.”
Still laughing, you take your phone back and tuck it back into your pocket. “You’re out of your mind.”
“Maybe.” He picks up his abandoned fork to polish off the last of his meal, noisily scraping the plate clean of any lingering sauces. “But at least you’re not sad anymore.”
And he’s right. The realization hits you like a freight train, knocking the air out of your lungs for the span of several heartbeats and then a couple more. You’re sure that you’re gaping a little bit, lips parted to let out words that you haven’t yet formulated, but you’re thankfully spared from responding when the server returns to your table.
“Here’s your dessert,” she says, carefully setting an immaculately decorated plate down in the middle of the table.
Jungkook blinks dumbly as she sets down two clean forks, one on either side. “When did you order pie?”
You blink back, equally confused. “I didn’t. I think this might be a mistake.”
Your server smiles, shaking her head. “Nope, not a mistake. This is from the couple over there in the corner. They asked me to bring you a slice of our apple pie on them, and to wish you a very happy holiday season.”
Curiously, you glance at the indicated couple, as does Jungkook. They’re a man and woman well into their seventies, seated near the edge of the rooftop between a silvery heat lamp and a leafy green plant. Under the glow of the string lights, their gray hair shines like silver, and you can’t help but smile when you see that they’re holding hands across the table. Both of them smile when they catch your eye, and the woman waves cheerily. The man mimes bringing a fork to his mouth—a universal indicator for you to try the dessert they’ve so kindly bought—and you turn back to Jungkook and the sweet cinnamon aroma wafting off of the pie on the table.
“I guess we should eat,” you tell Jungkook, who’s already picked up his fork.
“Guess so,” he agrees, sizing up the slice. “Should we cut it in half? My knife is still clean, I think.”
You hesitate. “I don’t know. We’re supposed to be a couple, and that might look weird. Maybe we should both just try and stick to one side?”
He nods. “Fine by me.” Carefully, he slices through a crusty edge and brings it to his mouth, his eyes going wide before fluttering shut in appreciation. “Oh, wow. That’s incredible.”
Delicately, you bring a forkful to your mouth, savoring the sweetness that coats your tongue. “I told you that everything on the menu is good, didn’t I?”
“You sure did.” Jungkook takes another bite, making sure to stick to his designated half of the pie. “And now, you’ve set a really high bar for tomorrow. I seriously don’t know if this can be topped.”
“The caterers are good, but they aren’t this good,” you tell him. “You’d honestly have a much better meal if you just ditched and came back here instead.”
Jungkook chortles. “Are you trying to talk me out of going to the party the night before it starts? I’m starting to think that you really don’t want me there.”
“It’s not that,” you assure him, picking up your glass of water and taking a sip. “I’m just not looking forward to seeing him. It’s bad enough walking past his cubicle at work, and now I have to socialize? And then there’s his girlfriend, which…” You trail off. “Ugh. I’m pretty sure that meeting your ex’s new partner is one of the circles of hell.”
“It definitely should be, if it isn’t,” Jungkook agrees. Then he jabs a thumb into his chest. “But hey, I’ve got your back, remember? Boyfriend for hire, at your service. I accept payment in all manner of snacks.”
“This dinner should more than cover your fee, then,” you remark with a smile. “So what do you think we should tell everyone tomorrow? What’s our big romantic backstory?”
“Hmm.” Jungkook rubs his chin thoughtfully, staring off into the distance. “We met… at a bowling alley. I’m a league champion, you see, and when I saw you throw three gutter balls in a row, I knew you were a woman after my own heart.”
“Very romantic,” you tell him, laughing. “But you forgot the part where you gallantly fetched an ice pack when I dropped the ball on my toe.”
He slaps a hand to his heart. “How could I? Nursing you back to full health—that was when I fell in love.”
“And then you bowled a perfect three hundred, thanks to me cheering you on,” you add, grinning. “Won a big gold trophy shaped like a bowling pin, and everything.”
He grins back. “Of course. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Nighttime has well and truly fallen now. Far above the glow of the string lights, the moon takes her lofty throne—a silvery crescent bathing the city in pale luminescence. The first stars begin poking through the dark sky—diamond pinpricks against deep velvet—and your breath catches when you meet Jungkook’s gaze and see them all reflected there, as if the very constellations live in his eyes.
“We—” You glance away and clear your throat awkwardly. “We should probably come up with something a little more realistic.”
Jungkook hums in agreement, lingering amusement still creasing his face. “You’re right, they’ll never believe that I bowled a three hundred. Maybe I only bowled a two-ninety.”
Laughing, you reach across the table and thwack him on the forearm. “That’s not what I meant!”
“No?” He flashes you an impish grin. “My bad.”
In the end, you and Jungkook settle on telling people that you met in college—a lie that’s both easy to remember and doesn’t invite too many other questions. “Let’s say that we were in the same writing class,” you tell him, signing the check with a flourish and putting your credit card back into your wallet. “That would make sense, right? Everyone had to take a writing class in my school.”
“Same here,” Jungkook agrees. “There were some pretty fun topics, though. Some focused on pop culture, some focused on theology—I actually took one about writing satire. It was neat.”
You pull a face. “Lucky. I spent a semester analyzing political punditry. It was depressing.”
Jungkook mirrors your expression. “Nothing quite like watching a bunch of men in a room talking over each other,” he remarks, and you nod as he rises to his feet and grabs his black leather jacket off the back of his chair.
Standing up, you slip into your own coat, not even bothering to fasten the buttons. The temperature has dropped since the sun set, but it’s still far from being cold. Jungkook doesn’t zip up his jacket either, and the combination of the black leather layered over his loosely knotted tie and collared shirt does something funny to your insides.
“We should go thank that couple for the dessert,” you mumble, suddenly feeling shy, when someone lays a gentle hand on your forearm.
“Sorry to startle you, dear.” The gray-haired woman is standing there with a kind smile, her eyes twinkling behind gold-rimmed glasses. She casts a glance back at her husband, who’s seated at the table and in the process of paying their bill. “I do hope you enjoyed the pie tonight. It’s always been our favorite thing here.”
You lay your hand atop hers, returning her smile with one of your own. “It was delicious, thank you so much. You really shouldn’t have gone to all the trouble.”
The woman laughs. “Oh, nonsense, dear—we wanted to do it. You two make a lovely couple. In fact, you remind me a little bit of us, back when we were young.”
Cheeks warming, you glance over at Jungkook, whose ears have turned pink. “Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice soft. “You’re too kind.”
She just smiles again, taking his tattooed hand in both of hers and giving it a squeeze. Then she turns back to you and pulls you close, lowering her voice so that only you are privy to her next words.
“There’s nothing quite like a man who can make you laugh,” she whispers. “Hang on tight to this one, dear. He’s one of the good ones.”
You don’t get a chance to answer, or ask her for clarification. She turns on her heel and returns to her husband before you can even stammer out a single syllable, leaving you alone with a curious Jungkook and a small horde of butterflies fluttering in your belly.
“What was that all about?” he asks.
You take him in—his wavy hair parted across his forehead, his silver hoop earrings peeking out from amongst the dark strands. You take in the black leather of his jacket and the messy knot of the tie at his throat.
“It was nothing,” you tell him, laying a hand on his shoulder and giving him a soft push toward the door. “Come on. Let’s go back home.”
In the two months that you’ve now lived with Jeon Jungkook, you’ve come to several realizations. The first is that he’s near impossible to wake up when he really puts his mind to it—something you’re grateful for when you’re making a racket in your rush to get to work on time in the mornings. The second is that he’s a very mediocre cook, and subsists mostly on ramen, cereal, and the occasional pizza delivery.
And the third—which is completely unfair, considering his aforementioned diet—is that he is insanely, almost painfully attractive.
Jungkook cuts a striking figure, even amidst the dozens of formally dressed people lingering in and around the entrance to the hotel. He’s wearing all black as he so often does, but he’s exchanged his favorite baggy sweats for a fitted turtleneck and a tailored suit that you’d watched him dig out of the very back of his closet just a few hours prior. A silver belt buckle breaks his monochrome silhouette, matching the silver hoops and the single dangling chain in his ears. His dark hair, normally loose and shaggy or gathered up at his crown, has been swept back and slicked with gel to expose his undercut. Already, your entrance has garnered a few stares from your nosier colleagues, and you tighten your grip on Jungkook’s arm as you pass through the garland-wrapped doorway that leads into the ballroom.
Crystal chandeliers glimmer overhead like diamonds, suffusing the room in warm, effervescent light. Round tables draped in white linen are scattered throughout, the cutlery and glassware sparkling. A low stage rises up at the opposite end of the room, atop which the band is playing an upbeat holiday medley. Just beside the entrance sits a long rectangular table draped in the same linen as the rest, and Jungkook peers curiously at the little silver bags lining it in neat rows.
“Are these goody bags?” he asks, reaching out to peek inside the nearest one.
“Don’t,” you advise him before he can pick it up. “Unless you want a shitty water bottle and a keychain that unintentionally looks like a penis.”
Jungkook laughs and retracts his hand. “I’ve been on the lookout for a penis keychain, as a matter of fact.”
“Guess I know what to get you for Christmas, then.”
He chuckles. “Can’t wait. But in the meantime—” Jungkook glances left and right, before grabbing one of the silver bags and emptying its contents into its neighbor. Then he grabs a fistful of assorted candy from the crystal bowl at the very end of the table, filling up the bag to the brim and leaving you giggling in dumbfounded amazement.
Gradually, the two of you pick your way over to the open bar. People stop to greet you and chat, casting curious looks at the man beside you, but Jungkook plays the role of new boyfriend perfectly and his friendly smile never once wavers. News of your breakup with Namjoon has no doubt made it down, up, and through the grapevine, but everyone seems to be wise enough not to press the matter. Well wishes are exchanged, and you and Jungkook move on, getting your drinks and seeking about for an empty table.
“Looking for somewhere to sit?”
The voice comes from behind you, as deep as it is familiar, and you freeze midway through sipping your wine. Jungkook seems to sense your sudden apprehension as well, his arm tensing up in yours, and you instinctively pull him closer as you turn to face the speaker.
“Namjoon,” you murmur, thanking all your lucky stars that your voice comes out steady. “Hi.”
Your ex-boyfriend stands there, just as tall and handsome as you remember with his ashy hair swept back and off his forehead. He’s wearing a steely blue waistcoat and a matching jacket, paired with black slacks and a deep navy tie that you’re certain he didn’t knot himself. And though the sight of him is devastating, when he grins his trademark dimpled grin, your poorly mended heart does a backflip and flops straight into your churning stomach.
Jungkook, thankfully, is much more articulate than you are in your current state. Stepping forward, he extends a hand for Namjoon to shake, a genial smile creasing his face. “I’m Jungkook,” he says, his gaze flitting over to you for a brief second before he levels it up at Namjoon once again. “{Name}’s told me a lot about you.”
Namjoon’s grin fades into a polite smile as he accepts the proffered handshake, sizing the other man up. “All good things, I hope,” he says at last. “It’s nice to meet you, Jungkook.”
“The pleasure’s mine,” Jungkook replies evenly, before pulling back and looking at you. “But we really should be finding somewhere to sit. It looks like the party’s gonna get started soon, babe.”
Your throat goes dry at the term of endearment. “Right,” you manage, swallowing down what little saliva is in your mouth. “We should.”
“Hey, why don’t you come sit with us?” Namjoon gestures at the table behind him where a young woman is seated with her back to you, chatting animatedly with a waiter. “We’ve got plenty of room.” And before you can even open your mouth to protest, he’s ushering both of you toward a pair of empty chairs, clapping Jungkook on the back when he gracefully steps between you to take the seat next to your ex-boyfriend.
“Yo, {Name}!” Another familiar voice sounds from behind you—this one much more welcome. You turn to see your favorite work friend, Taehyung, approaching you with his longtime girlfriend—the two of them dressed in color coordinated outfits and wearing matching necklaces that look and twinkle like strings of multicolored holiday lights.
“Tae!” you exclaim, rising to your feet to give him a hug. “And Allie—hi! It’s been way too long!”
“No kidding!” Allie glares playfully at her boyfriend. “Tae’s trying to keep you all to himself, but I’m not going to let that happen. When are you free? We should grab coffee sometime.”
“Absolutely,” you promise. “As soon as all the holiday craziness is over, I’ll be sure to text you. Have you tried the new place on 17th and Main yet?”
“No, but I’ve been dying to!” Allie exclaims. “That settles it—we’re going. No boys allowed.”
“Deal,” you laugh.
With Taehyung and Allie, your table is now full. Namjoon introduces everyone to his girlfriend, Mia—a curly-haired brunette who is just as bubbly and warm as the photos make her seem, and is completely impossible not to like. You, likewise, introduce Jungkook to the table, doing your best to avoid Namjoon’s gaze as you lay a hand on Jungkook’s arm.
“Gosh, you guys are cute,” Mia gushes. “How did you meet?”
Your rehearsed answer comes easily. “We met our freshman year of college.”
“We were in the same writing class our sophomore year,” Jungkook says at the same time, wincing when he realizes what just happened. “I mean—“
“We met freshman year, but we didn’t really get to know each other until later,” you clarify quickly, kicking his foot underneath the table. “A few months ago, we reconnected, and, well…” You glance over at him, mustering up the most genuine smile you can. “Here we are.”
Mia smiles and takes Namjoon’s hand, her fingers twining with his. “That sounds a lot like our story,” she says, nudging him playfully. “We’ve known each other for ages too—since we were kids, actually. But we hadn’t seen each other in years.”
“Then we ran into each other at the grocery store,” Namjoon recalls with a smile, his cheeks dimpling. “Imagine that—something so innocuous. But I guess fate works in mysterious ways.”
Any additional conversation is interrupted by the metallic clinking of a fork against glass, the sound amplified by the microphone set up onstage. The chief executive officer of your company stands there with a gaudy Santa hat perched atop his head, and the room quiets down to listen to him give his welcome speech and wish everyone a happy holiday season. After a toast to a happy, fruitful new year, he beckons you all to raise a glass, and as you do, the waitstaff begin filing out with appetizers.
“Soup and salad?” Jungkook asks, watching one of the waiters walk by with a tray before leaning in close to whisper in your ear. “Damn, they really do pull out all the stops.”
You grin. “I thought you’d be more excited about the open bar.”
“Oh, I am,” he replies, raising his glass and throwing back the remaining whiskey inside. “I’m about to go up there again, actually—you want anything?”
Nodding, you tell him your drink order. Jungkook rises to his feet and asks the rest of the table if he can grab any other drinks, and departs a few seconds later with a promise to Allie that he’ll bring her another glass of chardonnay. A waiter arrives with your food, and you gratefully seize upon the opportunity to avoid further conversation by picking up your fork and shoving some romaine and an herbed crouton into your mouth.
Jungkook returns about five minutes later with drinks in hand, handing Allie her wine before setting your glass in front of you and plopping back down into his seat. “How’s the food?”
Taehyung chuckles. “Don’t bother asking Joon,” he says with a nod at your ex-boyfriend, who’s fiddling with his phone’s camera and angling it strategically above his plate. “He’s still trying to take the perfect photo of his food instead of eating it.”
“Photographs are forever,” Namjoon counters without looking up, his chin jutting out in the way it always does when he’s focused. Then he looks up, a glimmer of mischief sparkling in his eyes. “Speaking of which—everyone, smile!”
You follow the movement of his arm and the subsequent raising of his camera. “That’s really not necessa—” you begin, but you’re cut off by the robotic click of the shutter. “Okay, you’ve already taken it. Great.” Namjoon opens up the photo so he can zoom in and take a closer look, and you turn to Jungkook and offer him a helpless shrug.
You’ve only just swallowed your first spoonful of soup when Namjoon raises his phone again. “Sorry,” he says, sheepish. “Tae blinked, and it looks like you’re talking, {Name}. Mind if we try again?”
“Does it matter if we say no?” you grumble under your breath, just loud enough so that Jungkook overhears and nearly inhales his wine. The six of you settle in for the photo, and you’re immediately drawn to the way Namjoon wraps his free arm around Mia, careful not to weigh on the brown curls cascading down her back.
Jungkook seems to notice your stare, too. Slowly, his arm settles around your shoulders, his palm warm even through the velvety material of your dress. Instinctively, you lean a little closer, a smile curling your lips as you gaze up at the camera lens.
“Nice,” Namjoon declares, checking the photo he’s taken. He shows it to Mia before holding it up so everyone can see, and you have to admit that he’s right—it is nice. The warm golden glow of the brightly lit Christmas tree provides a perfect backdrop, and your smile—no matter how forced it felt—translates on camera as genuine. Beside you, Jungkook is grinning a grin that makes his upper lip disappear, his eyes crinkled into cheery crescents and his arm curled around you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The sight is enough to warm your cheeks, and both your heart and lungs suddenly feel far too big for your chest.
The rest of the meal passes in a flurry of conversation and laughter. You’re in the middle of showing off the pockets on your dress when someone taps their fork against a glass once more, clearing their throat for attention.
“That’s our CFO,” you whisper to Jungkook as you twist in your seat. “There’s about a fifty-fifty chance that she’s already drunk off her ass.”
Jungkook follows the trajectory of your gaze to the woman onstage, her hair dyed the color of straw. “If that’s the case, I really need to step up my game. I’m way behind.”
You hide your smile behind your wine glass. “Really? I thought it was your responsibility to make sure I get home safe tonight.”
He winks. “Who says I can’t do both?”
The chief financial officer of your company starts talking, and you and Jungkook settle in to listen. A few more higher-ups follow, giving speeches of their own, before the CEO steps up and declares that the real party can now begin. Overhead, the chandeliers dim. An array of spotlights illuminate the band onstage, and they strike a merry opening chord before bursting into a brassy rendition of “Santa Claus is Coming to Town”.
Beside you, Allie lets out an excited whoop and grabs Taehyung by the hand. Together, they whirl off onto the dance floor, their light-up necklaces twin kaleidoscopes of color, leaving you and Jungkook alone at the table with Namjoon and Mia. There’s a brief beat of awkward silence, filled only by the crooning of the lead singer and a jazzy keyboard riff.
And then Jungkook rises to his feet and offers you his palm in an open invitation. “Wanna dance?”
You take his proffered hand and let him pull you out of your chair. “Yeah. I’d love to.”
Hand in hand, the two of you meander through the throng of swaying bodies and find an open spot. Jungkook’s palm finds the curve of your waist, pulling you close, and you settle your hand onto the broad expanse of his shoulder. He’s warm and solid beneath your fingertips, his strong build unmistakable, and when he twines his fingers with yours, you smile.
“This is going much better than I thought it would,” you tell him. “You make a good fake boyfriend.”
Jungkook guides you into a spin, the skirt of your long, burgundy dress billowing outward. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
“Good, because it was supposed to be.”
He flashes you a grin. The music changes—slowing to something softer and more intimate—and you let him pull you closer as his palm finds its way to the small of your back. Jungkook gazes down at you like you’re the only thing in the world, and for the briefest of moments, it’s all too easy to forget that this is all just a front—a show to sell to an unwitting audience of one.
“Do… do you think he’s watching?” you ask, tearing your gaze away from the freckle beneath his lip at last and twisting around to look for your ex-boyfriend and his companion. “I don’t see them at the table anymore.”
Jungkook frowns. “I’ll keep an eye out for him,” he promises. “Mia, too.”
You sigh at the mention of her name, equal parts annoyance and resignation. “God, Mia. She’s so fucking nice. I wish I could bring myself to hate her, but I can’t. I mean, you heard their story too, right? Childhood friends? Bumping into each other at the store? It’s straight out of a Hallmark movie. Not to mention all that talk about fate.”
Jungkook shrugs—his shoulder rising and falling beneath your palm. “I dunno—I kinda like the idea of fate. Knowing that you’re on the right path, and that you’re with the right person? It sounds really reassuring.”
You reach out and bat at his dangly silver earring playfully. “The right person? Wow, I didn’t know you were such a romantic.”
Jungkook grabs your hand and fixes you with a mock glare. “Hey, I get a little sentimental during the holidays. Sue me.”
Giggling, you pull out of his grasp and lay your hand back on his shoulder. The night continues, and a few more songs pass—the rhythms quickening and the volume swelling until conversation becomes impossible. Jungkook coaxes you into several more twirls, laughingly steadying you when you almost stumble into a neighboring couple, and you scowl at him mischievously before urging him into a spin of his own.
Eventually, your feet begin to ache in your heels. “Bar?” you ask, leaning in close so that Jungkook can hear you over the music. “My feet need a break.”
“Let’s go,” Jungkook agrees, releasing his grip on your waist. His other hand remains twined with yours, and you readily follow his lead as he weaves a path through the crowd and to the open bar in the corner.
You spend the rest of the evening at the table, chatting and drinking with your dark-haired roommate. The two of you delve into his bag of purloined candy, chocolate and artificial fruit flavors mingling with the alcohol on your tongue, and wine eventually turns into shots of hard liquor. By the time the party begins to wind down, Taehyung has to actively talk you into putting your shoes back on, having already gone through the hard work of retrieving them from under the table where you’d kicked them an hour earlier.
“Quit whining, you big baby,” Taehyung grunts, hauling you to your feet as an amused Allie watches on. “Jeez, I forgot how messy you get when you drink. Jungkook, are you sure you two are okay to get home?”
Jungkook has switched over to drinking water in the last hour, and nods as he knocks back the rest of his glass. “I’m good, don’t worry. I’ll get us back in one piece.”
“Thank god one of you is responsible,” Taehyung grumbles under his breath. You thwack him weakly on the shoulder in retaliation, stumbling slightly in the process, and Taehyung is all too happy to step aside when Jungkook winds a firm arm around your waist to keep you upright.
“Come on, babe,” he says, the words sounding almost affectionate to your inebriated mind. “Let’s get you home.”
Bidding Taehyung and Allie goodbye, Jungkook guides you back through the dance floor and to the entrance of the ballroom, chortling when you blindly grab a silver goody bag off the table. At the coat check, he provides both of your numbers to the attendant, never once relinquishing his grip on you as he waits for her to return. Sluggishly, you let your head fall against his shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment’s reprieve from the bright lobby lights.
And then your muddled brain registers what you’d seen just before everything went dark. Jungkook jolts in surprise when you straighten up abruptly, your eyes blinking open, and he quickly follows your gaze over to the far end of the lobby where Namjoon and Mia are slowly making their way toward you.
There’s no doubt that they’re on their way to retrieve their own jackets. Mia already has both plastic cards in her hand, chattering away to her much taller companion, and you watch as he stoops down to hear her better over the hubbub of the other party guests. His cheeks dimple as he smiles at whatever it is she’s said, and your heart lurches unsteadily in your chest.
They’re at the counter of the coat check now, where you can just barely overhear Mia teasing Namjoon about his tendency to misplace things. She hands over their numbered cards before reaching up and poking gently at one of his dimples, and Namjoon bellows out a laugh and catches her by the wrist to tug her close. His fingers trail down and twine with her smaller ones, and when your gaze drops to their interlaced hands, you don’t even notice Jungkook slipping away.
Almost as if he senses your stare, Namjoon suddenly looks up and locks eyes with you. His expression is steady—calm, even—but your heart stutters to a halt at the look all the same. It’s as if someone has drenched you in ice water, and the chill sobers you up in an instant. Jungkook returns to your side, but you don’t pay him any mind, not even when he holds up your coat and tries to help you into it. Namjoon looks away and starts fiddling with his phone, but you don’t miss the way his gaze flits over to you every few seconds, as if checking on something. He’s always been dangerously perceptive, and you, unable to look at him anymore, turn instead to Jungkook and bury your face in his shoulder.
“Jungkook,” you mumble into the fabric of his turtleneck. “He’s watching us. Can you pretend I said something funny?”
Strong hands settle gently on your back, urging you to stand up straight so he can slip your arms into the sleeves of your overcoat. “I’ll do you one better,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear, his warm breath fanning across your skin and igniting gooseflesh in its wake.
And then he’s winding his arms around your waist and pulling you in, until your back is flush against his chest and you can feel every breath he takes rising and falling in time to the rhythm of his heart.
If Namjoon glances your way again, you don’t notice. You’re too caught up in Jungkook—the warmth radiating from his skin, the steady beat of his heart, the soft floral scent of the fabric softener that lingers on his clothes. He holds you in his arms until his number is finally called, and when he releases you from his embrace to go fetch his jacket, you’re taken aback by how quickly the cold settles back into your bones.
There’s already a car waiting when you and Jungkook finally exit the hotel, its engine a low hum as it idles at the curb. Jungkook gallantly ushers you into the backseat first before clambering in afterward, and you do your best to ignore the way his thigh brushes repeatedly against yours every time the car turns a corner. For his part, Jungkook seems completely oblivious to the contact—apparently perfectly content to stare out the window at the passing city nightlife. “We made it through,” he remarks, his gaze never once wavering from the outside where snowflakes are beginning to drift down from the velvety black sky.
“Yeah. We did,” you murmur back.
So why, then, does your heart feel like it’s about to hammer its way out of your chest?
“Oh, fuck.”
Even after a night of sleep, your feet still ache. There’s a smudge of mascara on your pillowcase from where you didn’t wash off your makeup properly, and you’re fairly certain there’s a stray bobby pin or two lost somewhere in your hair, prodding harshly at your scalp every time you move. On top of all that, you’re hungover. Your head pounds as you blink against the sunlight filtering in through the crack in the blinds, your mouth as dry as the Sahara and your tongue feeling like sandpaper.
And yet, all of that fades away when you wake your phone screen once more, just to see that nothing has changed. Two new notifications still sit there, taunting you. Both are from your mother, and both, you’ve read and reread six times just to make sure you aren’t dreaming.
[10:45am] Mom: Young lady, just when were you going to mention the new boyfriend?
[10:46am] Mom: Invite him to Christmas, we want to meet him!
For a few long minutes, you can only lay in bed, staring up at the white stucco ceiling and wondering what you can possibly do to remedy the situation. There’s the obvious solution, of course—but you would no doubt face a barrage of questions from your parents about the suddenness of your breakup. As well-meaning as your mother is, she’s never been one for tact, and your father is only the slightest bit more restrained. They’d only just stopped asking about Namjoon a few weeks ago, after all, and that was after you decided to lie and say the breakup was four months ago instead of a mere two.
And then there’s the alternative—bringing Jungkook home to meet your parents over the holidays. Already, you can imagine the prying questions your great aunt will barrage you with, not to mention all the ways your family will compare him—either silently or aloud—to Namjoon. After all, your ex had accompanied you to last year’s festivities, and you aren’t sure whether the sudden nausea bubbling up in your stomach is due to the memories or the hangover relentlessly pounding its erratic drumbeat against your skull.
Wincing, you reluctantly extricate yourself from your tangle of blankets, throwing your legs over the edge of the bed and rising to your feet. The throbbing ache at your temples dulls somewhat when you fix the crack in your blinds, and you pad wearily over to your en suite bathroom, forgoing the light switch and relying on the dimmed daylight that filters in from your bedroom.
It takes a generous swish of mouthwash and several layers of chapstick for you to feel somewhat human again. Pulling on some leggings and an old oversized sweatshirt, you open up your bedroom door and head across the living area to Jungkook’s bedroom, listening outside his door for a few seconds before giving it a tentative knock. You wonder if he’s awake yet.
Your question is answered a moment later, when Jungkook’s voice calls out from within, perfectly clear and lucid. “Come in!”
The first thing you notice when you enter his bedroom is how tidy everything is. Since you started living together, you’ve caught the occasional glimpse inside, but Jungkook tends to keep his door shut for the most part and you haven’t had much reason to enter before now. His bed is perhaps the one thing that stands out, his sheets messily strewn across the mattress, but you take a second to admire the immaculately folded laundry on the ottoman in the corner and the row of neatly hung clothes peeking out from his closet. Then you wander across the room to the desk where your roommate is currently hunched, peering intently at his computer monitor from behind round wire-rimmed glasses that you’ve only seen him don once before.
“Morning,” he says as you come to a stop beside him. “Sorry if I woke you up—my headset broke.”
It takes you a moment to realize he’s talking about his video game, which, upon closer inspection, he has turned to the lowest possible volume setting on his computer. “No, that wasn’t it,” you reassure, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. “My phone woke me up. That’s why I’m here, actually.”
Jungkook reaches into the pocket of his gray sweatpants, his eyes going wide as he fumbles for his phone. “Oh, shit. I didn’t buttdial you, did I?”
“Nothing like that,” you tell him, chuckling before the seriousness of the situation settles back in. Clearing your throat, you wake your phone screen and read the two messages there for the seventh time before looking up at him again. “It’s, uh. It’s my mom. She saw the photos I’ve been posting of you lately, and… she sorta invited you over. For Christmas.”
Jungkook freezes, his hand still in his pocket. His lips part but no words come out, and you quickly rush to fill the awkward silence with anything and everything that pops into your head.
“You don’t have to come, obviously! It’s honestly a huge ordeal, and even I don’t want to spend an entire weekend with my entire extended family. You know how families can be, right? They’ve all got their own brand of crazy. We can have a messy, public breakup and put this whole thing behind us.” You pause to take a breath, and slap a hand to your forehead in realization. “Wait, what am I even saying? You’re probably visiting your own family over the holidays. Wow. Okay. Just ignore me and forget I said anything. I’ll tell my mom you can’t come.”
Jungkook clears his throat. “Actually, that’s not true. My parents are celebrating their thirty-year anniversary in Bora Bora. They won’t be back until New Year’s, so that’s when I’m going to visit.”
You blink. “Wait, really? Were you planning on spending Christmas alone?”
Jungkook shrugs. “It’s just another day, isn’t it? No big deal.”
“Still.” You shake your head, and wince when the movement only serves to worsen your headache. “You shouldn’t have to spend the holidays alone. If you don’t have anything else going on, well… just know that you have an open invitation to my place. My parents are fantastic cooks, and I don’t want you eating ramen for Christmas dinner.”
Jungkook leans back in his chair and huffs out a chuckle. “You make it sound so depressing.”
“That’s because it is depressing.”
“Fair point.”
You smile at his easy admission, and wave your phone. “So? What do you think? Weekend with my crazy family?”
“Weekend with your crazy family,” Jungkook confirms, and you grin.
“Guess our messy breakup will have to wait, then.”
“Guess so,” he agrees quietly.
Turning on your heel, you exit Jungkook’s bedroom, texting your mom back and confirming your additional guest. Your phone buzzes again just as you hit send, and you curiously navigate over to the new notification to open it.
[11:01am] Jiminnie 🐭: r u alive?
Barely, you write back, rubbing your temples.
[11:02am] Jiminnie 🐭: lmao. k then. brunch in 20? the usual place?
[11:02am] You: yes please.
Two days before the drive to your parents’ house, you finally finish buying all of your Christmas presents. Sprawled out in the middle of the living room floor, you stare beseechingly at the array of gifts, surrounded by a graveyard of unusable wrapping paper shreds. Wrapping presents has never been a strong suit of yours, and you’re teetering on the verge of giving up entirely when your phone begins buzzing insistently from within your pocket.
“Jimin,” you sigh when you see his grinning contact photo filling your screen, swiping to answer the call. “What’s up?”
“Did you get my text?” Jimin asks, not even bothering with a hello.
Confused, you put him on speaker and thumb over to your messages. “Uh, no? I don’t even think my phone went off.”
Jimin curses, and you hear him fumble for a moment before his voice comes through the receiver again. “What about now?”
Your phone vibrates, and you quickly open up the text. “What is this? Are you in a dressing room?” you ask, taking in the attached photographs. The first is of your best friend in a sharp black suit, the black shirt underneath billowy and barely opaque. In the second, he’s wearing dangerously tight jeans and an embellished black leather jacket, layered over a white t-shirt with a familiar brand name boldly emblazoned across the front. “Is that Gucci?”
“Yes and yes,” Jimin answers. “I have that stupid fucking high school reunion over the holidays, remember? Which outfit screams, I’m sexier and more successful than you now? I need a second opinion.”
“A second opinion on which outfit makes your dick look best, you mean,” you grumble. Nonetheless, you open up the first photo again, zooming in on the more intricate details of the outfit and avoiding the bulge near his crotch at all costs. You’re about to switch over to the second when the front door flies open, letting in a blast of icy air and a disheveled looking Jungkook, struggling under the weight of an armful of shopping bags that looks to be about twice his size.
Apparently, you’ve been quiet too long for Jimin’s liking, because his voice filters through the speaker in a petulant whine. “Hello? I sent you my dick. Please respond.”
You’re already halfway to your feet, dropping your phone on the couch in your rush to shut the door. “Stop trying to sext me right now, I don’t need this!” you throw over your shoulder as you relieve your windswept roommate of two shopping bags and set them safely on the ground. Jungkook lowers the rest to the carpeted floor with a heavy sigh, pulling off his beanie and shaking out his hair, and you lock the front door before turning to face him again. “Are you okay?” you ask.
Jungkook nods and offers you a crooked, sheepish grin. “Yeah. Sorry. It’s freezing outside, so I really wanted to get everything inside in one trip.” Then he glances back at where your phone has fallen between the couch cushions, his brows furrowing in concern. “I, uh, didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”
You laugh, walking back over to the couch to fish your phone out. “You’re not interrupting anything, trust me. Jimin’s just trying to decide what to wear to his high school reunion.”
“Really?” Jungkook lugs four bags into the kitchen, leaving them on the counter before picking up the other three and joining you in the living room. “You’re actually going to yours?”
“That’s what I said!” you exclaim. “Why are you even bothering with the whole reunion thing? Do you really want to see these people?”
“I have my reasons,” Jimin sniffs defensively. “Now, are you gonna tell me which outfit you like better or not?”
Several minutes later and after some very careful inspection of the two photos, both you and Jungkook give Jimin your final verdict. “The suit makes you look like you’re trying too hard,” you tell him, holding the phone between you and Jungkook so he can pipe in if he wants to. “The dick-hugging jeans, on the other hand, are pretty much perfect for what you’re going for.”
“I like the jeans too,” Jungkook says. “Not that I was really paying attention to how your dick looked in them, but if {Name} says so, then I believe her.”
You laugh. “Get the jeans, Minnie. And hurry up, while you’re at it. Don’t you have a plane to catch?”
“I have plenty of time,” Jimin says dismissively. Nonetheless, he bids you both goodbye and hangs up, leaving you alone with Jungkook, six tubes of messily shredded wrapping paper, and the haphazard stack of shopping bags he’s left in the middle of the floor next to yours.
“So… what exactly happened here?” Jungkook asks dryly, picking up a spool of bright red ribbon and ripping off the tape dispenser that’s somehow adhered itself to one side. “It looks like a war zone, and clearly, you lost.”
“Things may have gotten away from me a little bit,” you admit. Disbelief etches across your roommate’s face, and you sigh and quickly amend your statement. “Okay, fine. A lot a bit.”
“{Name}, it looks like something died in here.”
“It does not! Stop exaggerating, you big meanie.”
Jungkook snorts out a loud laugh. Plopping down on the floor, he clears out a space beside him and gestures for you to sit down. “I can’t believe you just called me a meanie,” he says, still chuckling. “Are we in elementary school?”
You sit down in the spot he indicated, crossing your legs and picking up a rather mangled looking bow. “No, but maybe I need to go back. Art class clearly didn’t stick.”
“Funny, art class was always my favorite. That, and music. Speaking of which—” Jungkook whips out his phone and taps at the screen, until the first strains of Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You” filter through the speakers on either side of the television. “To set the mood,” he explains, tucking his phone away again.
“Very festive,” you remark, bobbing your head along to the addictive melody.
Together, the two of you start wrapping your presents, passing the tape dispenser back and forth. Jungkook is the first one to start humming under his breath, drumming his fingers quietly against his knee, and it isn’t long before you’re both belting along to the music. Grabbing an empty wrapping paper tube, you cut it in half and throw him one end, holding yours up to your mouth like a makeshift microphone. Deftly, he catches it, spinning it between his fingers before closing his eyes for his dramatic, crooning rendition of “Chestnuts Roasting On An Open Fire”.
Jungkook has a pleasant singing voice. You’ve heard him singing in the shower more than a dozen times by this point, but it still sometimes catches you unawares. A soothing, mellow tenor, his voice is one that melds perfectly with every track and every genre, and you gradually trail off in your own singing to listen to him, uninterrupted. Every so often, he adds a little embellishment or harmony, and you’re so caught up in his performance of “Silent Night” that you forget about the task at hand.
That is, until the task at hand makes itself known again—in the form of a piece of wrapping paper slicing the pad of your index finger open. “Ow!” you exclaim, jerking away from the offending material, and Jungkook stops mid-verse with worry creasing his expression.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, scooting closer when he sees the way you’re clutching your finger. “Did you cut yourself?”
You nod, and wince when a drop of bright red blood wells up in the thin wound. “Yeah, but it’s just a papercut, no biggie. I’m just gonna go grab a band-aid real quick, and—”
Jungkook hops to his feet before you can even finish your sentence and heads for the kitchen, returning a few seconds later with the first-aid kit that you keep stowed beneath the sink. “Give me your hand,” he says, and when you hesitate, he kneels down beside you and lifts your hand himself, his palm engulfing you as he examines the tip of your finger.
“Huh,” he says after a few seconds. “This probably doesn’t need to be disinfected, but better safe than sorry.” Uncapping a tube of antibiotic ointment, he carefully dabs some on with a cotton pad. He winds a band-aid around your finger once he’s finished, and you try and fail to quell the sudden uptick in your heart rate at his delicate care.
“I-I could’ve taken care of it,” you mumble, looking anywhere but at him.
Jungkook shrugs and stands back up to return the first-aid kit to its proper place. “It’s no big deal,” he says. “I was gonna go grab some water, anyway. You want anything while I’m up?”
Silently, you shake your head, and he hums out a soft okay before returning to the kitchen. The cabinet under the sink opens, the faulty bottom hinge that you haven’t gotten around to fixing squeaking in protest, before the faucet turns on. And when he rejoins you in the living room, you see that he has two glasses of water, watching as he sets one down on the coffee table beside you.
“Just in case you get thirsty,” he says simply.
Touched by his thoughtfulness, you raise the glass to your lips and take a sip. “Thanks.”
For the next few minutes, the two of you wrap presents in relative silence, the rustling of paper and ribbon backed by Jungkook’s holiday playlist. It isn’t until Jungkook clears his throat that you look up from where you’re trying in vain to cover a stuffed elephant plushie in wrapping paper, tilting your head in silent inquiry.
Jungkook clears his throat again, hiding both hands behind his back. “You can’t see this last one,” he says. “It’s yours.”
“Oh!” Immediately, you cover your eyes. “Do you want me to turn around?”
He laughs. “Only if you’re going to try and peek.”
“Hey now, your present’s been in my room for days. How do I know you haven’t snuck a look at it?”
“Maybe I did,” he teases. “Maybe I was wondering about how you managed to wrap it without my help.”
You huff, your hands still slapped over your eyes. “Okay, first of all? Rude. And second of all, now I know you didn’t peek. I put your present in a gift bag.”
Jungkook bursts into laughter—high and bright. A few more seconds of rustling later, he tells you that you can open your eyes again, and you immediately spot the little package sitting atop his pile of gifts, wrapped neatly in shiny gold paper.
“We should put these under the tree,” you remark softly, gesturing at the fake plastic monstrosity that you’d gotten on sale two years ago. Between the five strings of lights and all the ornaments, you’ve managed to get it looking decent enough, and with the addition of both your and Jungkook’s gifts beneath the evergreen branches, it makes for a lovely sight.
Whether it’s a lovelier sight than your roommate, though—his honeyed skin glowing in the illumination of the string lights and his dark hair haloed in gold—you cannot quite say.
“You know, it’s not too late to turn around.”
Jungkook chuckles and makes the turn into your parents’ neighborhood, guided by your reluctant directions and the monotone voice of his phone’s GPS. “Really? You want me to turn around right now and drive an hour back to our place?”
“Fifty minutes,” you grumble under your breath. Nonetheless, you sink back into your seat and watch as the house you grew up in comes into view, the rooftop and the tree out front laden with accumulated snow and strung with multicolored lights. Jungkook pulls smoothly into the driveway, and you turn to face him as he puts his car into park and turns off the engine. “Remember—they think we’ve been together for two months.”
He nods. “Yep.”
“And you remember our story, right?”
Jungkook huffs out a laugh. “Are you going to keep delaying the inevitable? Come on, let’s hurry and get inside. It's freezing out here.”
You suck in a deep breath. “Fine,” you relent, climbing out of his beat-up sedan and pulling open the backseat door to fetch the two bags of presents that you’ve brought. Jungkook, for his part, has three bottles of wine tucked safely into a colorful paper bag, as well as a potted poinsettia that he’d picked up from the grocery store yesterday.
“You bought pinot grigio for my mom, right? And white zinfandel for Great Aunt Martha?”
“Yes, and yes. I also have a cabernet sauvignon for any red wine drinkers.” Jungkook nods at the bag swinging from his hand. “Quit worrying, seriously. You’re gonna go prematurely gray.”
“The last few weeks have already cut five years off my lifespan,” you grouse under your breath. Nonetheless, you lead him up the walkway to the front door, and Jungkook chuckles when you ram the doorbell with your elbow, your hands too full to lift a finger.
Not two seconds later, the door flies open, revealing both of your parents standing there. “You’re early!” your mother exclaims, ushering you and Jungkook inside. “Come in, come in—it’s cold out there! Don’t forget to wipe off your feet. And this must be Jungkook!”
You swallow and nod. “Yeah, this is Jungkook. Jungkook—this is my mom and dad.”
Politely, Jungkook inclines his head, the strands of hair that have come loose from his ponytail falling across his forehead. “It’s very nice to finally meet you,” he says. “Thank you for having me.”
“Nonsense,” your dad says, clapping him on the back. “We’re excited to have you. Come on in—you can leave your shoes and coat over here.” Turning to you, he takes the presents off your hands. “I’ll go ahead and put these under the tree for you, honey.”
You smile at him. “Thanks, Dad.”
“You brought gifts?” Your mom steps closer, glancing into your bags before looking over at Jungkook again. Silently, she sizes him up before peering into the bag he’s holding, a slow smile curving her lips as she takes in its contents. “This is very sweet of you, dear. You shouldn’t have.”
Jungkook smiles shyly and tucks a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “It’s no problem,” he says. “Just something small to thank you for your hospitality.”
Your mom laughs and relieves him of the bag, ushering both of you into the kitchen. “We’re happy to have you, believe me.” Removing the poinsettia plant, she sets it on the windowsill above the sink and adds the wine to the impressive display already lining the countertop. You follow her to the sink to wash your hands, and Jungkook trails after you like a shadow.
“So, how’s dinner coming along? you ask as you lather the lemon-scented soap between your palms. “Can we help with anything?”
Your mother nods, pulling two aprons off of a nearby chair and handing one over to each of you. Yours is a decades-old one that you’ve had since you were a child, tie-dyed rainbow with the help of your parents and embroidered with your name in orange thread. The other is pastel pink with white daisies, and you stifle a giggle as Jungkook pulls it over his all-black ensemble and ties the ribbons behind his back. He’s dressed a little less casually than you’re used to—a billowy collared shirt tucked into slim black jeans—but the Timberlands and the swirling ink coiling around his right wrist remain the same as ever and contrast starkly with the bright floral pattern of the apron. Jungkook catches your eye and arches a brow, as if daring you to comment, and you stick your tongue out at him playfully before turning to a nearby drawer and selecting a knife from within.
“I’ll start dicing these potatoes,” you say, gesturing at the pile on the counter.
“I can do the onions,” Jungkook volunteers immediately, following your lead and grabbing a knife of his own. “Is there a bowl I can put them in?”
“They should be right there,” you tell him, pointing at the cabinet he’s standing in front of, and you’re proven correct when he opens it and lets out a satisfied aha! The kitchen quickly fills with the rhythmic sound of chopping, pausing every now and then when your parents request help with something else.
Cooking with Jungkook isn’t new. The two of you cook together more often than not, having quickly realized that it saves both time and money, especially when you make enough dinner to have leftovers for lunch the next day. It’s been about five weeks since you started sharing meals and grocery lists, but you’ve developed a certain level of comfort and ease in that time, a certain ebb and flow in the way you move about the kitchen.
But here in your parents’ home, everything feels different. The kitchen is more spacious, and all of the utensils are in different places. And that’s not even factoring in the fact that you can feel your parents staring when they think you aren’t paying attention, their gazes lingering too long and too often.
It’s a welcome relief, then, when the doorbell rings. Your father heads off to answer it, but the front door swings open before he can even lay a hand on the knob, letting in a gust of chilly air and a small horde of cousins ranging from ages four to thirteen. “Oh god, they’re all here,” you lament under your breath. Tossing a quick prayer up to whatever deities may exist, you take Jungkook by the hand and lead him into the foyer to meet the rest of your family.
“So this is the new boyfriend,” your Great Aunt Martha declares upon your arrival, looking Jungkook up and down. “He’s handsome, I’ll give him that. Not sure about all those tattoos, though.” Then she squints, her eyes narrowing behind the tortoiseshell pattern of her horn-rimmed glasses. “How long did you say you two have been together?”
Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat. “Just about two months, now.”
Great Aunt Martha harrumphs. “And how did you meet? Was it that Timber website?”
“Tinder,” you correct. “And, no. We met through Jimin, actually. They went to school together.”
That seems to satisfy her for the time being. Gradually, your family members disperse around the house—some coming to the kitchen to help while others head off to the living room where the television is playing reruns of A Christmas Story. Your grandparents—who live a block away from your parents—brew some tea and take a seat on the couch to rest. All of your cousins disappear somewhere, intent on wreaking the sort of havoc that only children can. If there’s one benefit to a massive family gathering, it’s that the focus is no longer squarely on you and Jungkook. Relief floods through your system as you finally let go of Jungkook’s hand, the two of you now standing alone in the foyer.
“That went well, I think.”
He nods. “No way I’m going to remember all those names, though.”
“Luckily, I don’t think anyone’s expecting you to,” you tell him with a grin. “But I’ll whisper in your ear or send you a text if I have to.”
By the time you return to the kitchen, dinner is nearly ready. Your mother is carefully slicing the roast while your father arranges side dishes in their respective platters. Great Aunt Martha paces around barking orders like a drill sergeant, which are ignored for the most part and halt entirely when your dad brings her a large glass of chilled white zinfandel.
“She always puts a single ice cube in her wine,” you whisper to Jungkook, who snorts out a loud laugh and has to disguise it as a cough. “I don’t know why.”
“It must be an aunt thing,” he whispers back. “Mine does the same thing with merlot.”
With the help of a few aunts and uncles, as well as some of the older cousins, the table in the dining room is set. A smaller table in the adjoining living room is designated for the kids, laid out with a plastic tablecloth and a stack of shatter-proof plates and cutlery. Your Aunt Donna calls for the cousins to come and get their food, and immediately from somewhere upstairs come the pitter-patter of running footsteps. The kids jostle each other as they pick out their plates, and a minor squabble breaks out between the two youngest, Molly and Sadie, when they both want the pink one.
Eventually, everyone picks out their food and takes it back to their table, leaving room for the adults to sit down. Your seat ends up being between Jungkook and your Gram Gram, who smiles and pats your cheek fondly as you pull out her chair for her.
“So, Jungkook!” your father says as he takes the seat opposite you. “Tell us about yourself. What do you do for a living?”
Jungkook nearly chokes on his wine when all eyes turn to him, but he recovers quickly and wipes at his mouth with a festive red and green napkin. “I work in IT,” he says. “I’ve always been good with computers, so it was the natural choice.”
“Did I hear you say that you went to school with the Park boy?” your dad asks. “Bill went there too, didn’t you, Bill?”
Your Uncle Bill nods. “That’s right—class of ‘89. How’d you like it?”
As the two begin talking about their alma mater, you tune out of the conversation. Jungkook seems to be winning everyone over with ease, and the anxiety that’s been gnawing at your ribcage since you arrived slowly begins to wane. Maybe this weekend won’t be so bad, after all, you reason as you pour yourself another glass of wine.
“Enough of all that nonsense!” Great Aunt Martha interrupts Jungkook’s conversation with your uncle mid-sentence and snaps her fingers as if summoning a dog. “When are you two kids getting hitched?”
The entire room goes silent. Even the dull hum of the television and the chatter from the kids’ table seems to fade. Mortified, you open your mouth to chastise your great aunt, but no words come out and you’re left gaping like a fish out of water, your cheeks aflame.
Much to your surprise, Jungkook just laughs. Gently, he reaches over to take your hand, his touch warm and reassuring as his fingers settle into the spaces between your own, and you glance up at him tentatively as he answers. “I think it’s a little too early for that,” he says, his smile soft and lingering. “But I’d like to get married one day.”
Great Aunt Martha settles back into her chair and takes a swig of her wine, the half-melted ice cube inside bobbing. “The sooner the better, I say.”
“That’s hardly up to you, Martha,” your mother cuts in, much to your relief. “They’ve only been dating a few months. You’re going to scare the poor boy off.”
With that, the conversation veers off in a different direction, and thankfully away from the topic of your and Jungkook’s supposedly pending nuptials. The evening wears on, dessert is brought out, and your father goes around the table topping off everyone’s glass as you help your mother load up the dishwasher.
By the time your relatives decide to call it a night, it’s nearly ten o’clock. The cousins are playing board games in the living room, a few of the younger ones stealing not-so-surreptitious glances at the sizable pile of presents beneath the Christmas tree in the corner. It’s tradition for the children to sleep over at your house, as the host of this year’s Christmas festivities, and already they’ve laid out their sleeping bags and pillows in preparation for a long night of staying up late to catch Santa in action. Upstairs, your parents have prepared the guest room for Aunt Donna and Uncle Bill to spend the night as well, since they flew in from the other side of the country. The rest of your relatives, however, live within a five-minute radius and can get home easily enough. Already, your Gram Gram is pulling on her thick wool coat in preparation for the short trek down the block, her husband rushing to her aid when the sleeves get tangled.
“Your bedroom is all set up, honey,” your mother tells you as she puts the last of the leftovers in the refrigerator. “You two can head on up whenever you’d like.”
You glance over at the front door where Jungkook has just come in from unloading your suitcases out of the trunk of his car, your heart rate picking up a notch when you see that he’s rolled his sleeves up to reveal the ink coiling around his right forearm. “Right,” you murmur. “My bedroom. Thanks, Mom.”
She smiles. “Sleep tight, hon.”
“You should really get some rest, too.”
“I will.”
You peck her on the cheek. “You’d better.” Turning, you join Jungkook in the foyer to bid your Gram Gram and Gramps goodbye, hugging each of them in turn and promising that you’ll see them both tomorrow. The rest of your relatives are likewise putting on their coats and shoes, and you say all your farewells before taking your suitcase from Jungkook and lugging it up the stairs.
You’ve only just made it past the first step, Jungkook trailing on your heels, when your father lets out a loud bellow of laughter and calls your name.
Bemused, you turn to face him again. “What is it?”
Your father grins, pointing. “Look up,” he says, and your stomach sinks like a stone as you follow the trajectory of his finger up to the little green sprig dangling from the ceiling just above the stairwell.
“Oh.” You glance at Jungkook, who’s staring up at the mistletoe with an expression that can only be described as a deer caught in headlights of an oncoming truck. He’s standing one step below you, making his head just about level with yours, and you worry your bottom lip anxiously between your teeth as his gaze slides down to meet yours.
“On the cheek?” he suggests softly, and you nod. Gingerly, you lean forward, your lips brushing just above the angle of his jawline.
A chorus of boos rises up from the bottom of the staircase, and you belatedly realize that your cousins have joined the throng of people in the foyer at some point. “Kiss him for real!” Molly trills, stamping her little socked foot against the carpet, her pink pajamas bright as a beacon.
“On the mouth!” Great Aunt Martha agrees, her words slurring together ever so slightly from the full bottle of white zinfandel she’s consumed.
Helplessly, you shrug at Jungkook, who smiles crookedly at you in return. “Guess we don’t have much of a choice, huh?”
“The hyperfixation on watching us kiss is weird, don’t you think?” you ask, trying to make light of the situation even as he leans in.
“Very weird,” he breathes. And then his lips are on yours—warm and soft and just the tiniest bit chapped. He’s applying the gentlest amount of pressure, fainter than a whisper of wind, but it still manages to leave you breathless in a way that has you clutching at his shoulders for support.
All too soon, the kiss comes to an end. Jungkook’s cheeks are flushed when he pulls away, and you’re just about ready to sink through the floorboards when one of your older cousins wolf whistles at the display. “Okay, that’s enough humiliation for one night,” your father decides, taking pity on your embarrassed state and ushering everyone away. “Goodnight, you two.”
“Night,” you croak before making a break for it. Jungkook trails you like a silent shadow as you throw open the door of your childhood bedroom, your face still burning at the memory of his mouth against your own. Letting your suitcase fall to the floor, you flop down onto the edge of the bed, finally working up the nerve to look at your companion.
“This doesn’t have to be weird, right?” you ask, and you wonder if Jungkook can hear the desperation seeping into your voice. “We just have to get through tomorrow, and the morning after that. Then we’ll be on our way home, where everything can go back to normal.”
Jungkook sits down beside you, leaving ample room between you to comfortably seat a third person. “Sure,” he says. “We’re roommates, right? This—” he gestures at the full-sized bed you’re both sitting on, “—doesn’t have to be weird.”
“Right,” you agree. “We’re just… sharing. A room.”
“A bed,” Jungkook says at the same time.
You clear your throat, fiddling nervously with the edge of your sweater. “Right.”
Fortunately, your bedroom has an en suite bathroom, keeping you safe from the prying eyes of your family as you and Jungkook take turns getting ready for bed. You change into your pajamas—an old t-shirt and a pair of soft fabric shorts—and exit the bathroom to see Jungkook sitting awkwardly on the floor at the foot of the bed, his hair now loose and falling across his forehead in loose waves.
“I didn’t know which side of the bed you wanted,” he says, rising to his feet and pocketing his phone. He’s wearing checkered flannel pants and a plain white tee, and you glance down self-consciously at your own bare legs. “Do you have a preference?”
Quickly, you shake your head. “It doesn’t matter,” you tell him. “Pick whatever side you want.”
Jungkook shrugs. “The left, I guess.”
You nod and head for the right side. “Okay.”
Silently, the two of you take a few minutes to organize your suitcases, laying out clothes for tomorrow and plugging in your phones to charge. Finally, when the inevitable can be delayed no longer, you turn toward the bed, carefully lifting up a corner of the blanket and crawling underneath.
“I guess we should get some sleep,” you murmur.
Jungkook joins you under the covers, ensuring that every part of his body remains firmly on his half of the bed. “Probably.”
You swallow, and turn to switch off the bedside lamp. “Goodnight, then.”
The room goes dark, and you feel the mattress shift as Jungkook turns away from you. “Goodnight,” he whispers back.
Minutes pass, and Jungkook’s breathing slowly evens out. Around you, the rest of the house settles into silence, with nary even a peep coming from the little cousins camping downstairs. You remain awake though—painfully aware of the heat radiating from the slumbering body beside you and the erratic tempo of your heart thudding in your ears. Vaguely, you wonder if you’ll have to resort to counting sheep.
After what feels like an eternity, you finally drift off into a fitful slumber. And when you dream, you dream of Jungkook and his lips, warm and sweet against your own.
Your eyes fly open at the piercing shriek, just barely catching a glimpse of bright red pajamas before the perpetrator dashes out of the bedroom and slams the door behind them. Groaning, you flump back against your pillow and cast an apologetic look at Jungkook, who’s slowly beginning to stir awake beside you. “Who was that?” he mumbles blearily, stifling a yawn behind his palm.
“I’m not sure,” you admit. “Mason? Maybe Dakota? It was one of the smaller ones.”
Jungkook hums, both of his eyes falling shut once more. Peace falls over your bedroom once again, lasting for all of three seconds before Jungkook shoots upright and nearly falls off the bed. “I-I—” he stammers, looking utterly horrified. “This isn’t—I mean, I’m not—” He groans. “Fuck. This just happens sometimes, I swear.”
The reason for his awkward stammering and averted gaze is beginning to dawn, your eyes trailing southward. There’s an unmistakable bulge tenting the blanket where Jungkook’s crotch is, and you squeak before slapping both your hands over your eyes as if that will somehow dispel the image that’s now imprinted on your lids. “Oh my god! Can you go, I don’t know, take care of that?”
Jungkook practically flies off the bed, grabbing his pillow and pressing it over his crotch. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m just gonna… I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” he stammers, his face crimson as he stumbles over his opened suitcase and strews neatly folded clothing every which way. “Fuck. Shit. Just, uh—can we forget this ever happened?”
“Consider it forgotten,” you tell him, still determinedly looking anywhere but at him. “Can you go now, please?”
You hear him shuffle off, and the bathroom door clicks shut a moment later. Exhaling heavily, you let your head sink back into your pillow, trying to ignore the sound of the shower turning on in the adjoining room and trying even harder to suppress the barrage of unwelcome thoughts infiltrating your brain. The carnal images that flash through your mind are vivid in their obscenity, and it takes every last ounce of willpower to push aside the little voice in your head that croons for you to join him in the shower and drop to your knees to help him out.
You can’t quite look Jungkook in the eye when he exits the bathroom, now fully dressed in faded jeans and an oversized cable-knit sweater the color of fresh cream. Instead, you wordlessly grab the bundle of clothes you’d laid out last night and brush past him to use the bathroom, hoping that a shower of your own will wash away any and all images you’ve managed to conjure of Jungkook’s cock.
Your parents are sitting at the kitchen table with your grandparents by the time you and Jungkook head downstairs for breakfast. In the living room, a few cousins are still stirring awake, batting grumpily at their younger counterparts who keep shaking their shoulders and trying to crawl into their sleeping bags.
“Good morning,” Jungkook greets politely, keeping his voice down, and your mother beams and immediately jumps to her feet to open the refrigerator.
“We have milk and all kinds of juice in here, so help yourself, dear,” she tells him. “Coffee’s in the pot—it’s still hot if you want it. The pancakes and bacon are being kept warm in the oven, plates are over there, and feel free to make some eggs if you want them.”
Jungkook shakes his head, his damp hair flying every which way. “This is more than enough. Thank you so much.”
Your father chooses that moment to speak up. “How did you two kids sleep?”
“Like a log,” Jungkook answers, and you nod your agreement even though it’s a lie.
“Yeah. We slept really well.”
“Good, good.” Your dad stands up and meanders over to the coffeemaker to refill his mug, and you follow after him to grab two plates. Jungkook joins you at the counter as you load them up with pancakes, drenching his in syrup and grabbing a few slices of bacon.
From the other room, you hear the patter of approaching footsteps before Sadie comes zooming in. The five-year-old goes sliding across the tiled floor, trailed by Molly and Dakota a few seconds later, and your father fixes all of them with a stern look as they bounce excitedly on their heels.
“Is it time to open presents?” Sadie asks eagerly, lacing her hands in front of her chest.
Molly gazes up at your parents with wide, pleading eyes. “Pretty, pretty please?”
Your dad scoops the little girl up, easily lifting the four-year-old in her pink unicorn pajamas. “You haven’t even eaten breakfast yet, young lady.”
Molly giggles when he bops her on the nose. “But Uncle, it’s Christmas!”
He chuckles. “You’re right. How about this, then—you can each have one piece of candy from your stocking. But then you have to eat some breakfast, okay?”
All three children cheer. Sadie and Dakota run off again, and Molly follows soon after once your dad sets her back down. “Honey, do me a favor,” he says, and this time, he’s addressing you. “Go and keep an eye on those kids, will you? Try and make sure they don’t eat all their candy in one sitting.”
“On it,” you tell him with a laugh. “Wanna help, Jungkook?”
Your dark-haired companion, who has just taken an enormous bite out of his pancakes, nods and struggles to swallow the food down. Kindly, you pour him a mug of coffee and hand it over, earning yourself a grateful grin from him as he takes a sip. Together, the two of you head into the living room, picking your way through the sea of sleeping bags to an empty spot on the couch and watching as your cousins grab their stockings off the fireplace and fish out the candy from within.
The sun crawls higher in the sky as morning wears on. Breakfast is a messy, chaotic affair, but everyone—the kids included—eventually gets some food into their bellies. All of your relatives have returned to the house, and your father finally gathers everyone around the Christmas tree to take a group photo. You and Jungkook find yourselves seated on the carpeted floor with the rest of the kids as he sets the automatic timer on his camera, having long since given up your spot on the couch to your older family members.
Once the photo is taken, Sadie raises her hand. “Can we open the presents now?”
Her mother, and your Aunt Donna, pretends to consider it. “Oh, I suppose.”
A delighted cheer goes up from the children, and you watch on, amused, as wrapping paper begins to fly in every direction. The cousins with more of a sweet tooth empty the rest of the contents of their stockings, and quickly begin trading for their favorite types of candy. Delighted shouts and laughter pierce the air, and a few minutes into the festivities, little Molly breaks free of the hubbub and approaches the spot where you and Jungkook are seated.
“This is for you,” she says, offering you one of the miniature chocolate bars clutched in her fist. Then she turns to Jungkook shyly, a little smile curling her lips. “And this one’s for you, because {Name} likes you. And that means I like you, too.”
Jungkook looks rather taken aback as he accepts the candy she hands over, his eyes growing wide before he offers her a broad smile and a quiet murmur of thanks. Molly stares at him for a few moments longer, her head tilted, and you’re just about to ask if she needs anything else when she suddenly reaches into her pocket and pulls out a piece of toffee. “You’re pretty,” she remarks to Jungkook as she unwraps it and shoves it into her mouth. “Just like a prince.”
Great Aunt Martha, who’s seated nearby, overhears her statement and chooses that moment to butt in. “Boys are handsome, dear. Not pretty.”
Jungkook shrugs his shoulders and unwraps his chocolate bar. “I don’t mind being called pretty. Thank you, Molly. You’re very pretty too.”
She giggles. “Do you think {Name}’s pretty?”
You stiffen at the mention of your name, but Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat. “She’s the prettiest girl in the world,” he says, and the ease with which he says it has your chest feeling dangerously tight. Molly, apparently now done with the conversation, returns to her presents, and you pull out your phone and scroll through your notifications in an attempt to avoid looking at your companion. There’s a few Merry Christmases from your friends, and a selfie from Jimin that depicts him sitting in front of his family’s lit-up tree and drinking straight out of a bottle of champagne. You’re about to open up Instagram to see if kimdaily has posted anything recently, when Jungkook calls your name.
“You should open your presents,” he says when you look up, sliding over a small pile of wrapped packages and gift bags. “Here. I found a few with your name on them.”
Your gaze flits from tag to tag, finally alighting on the little golden one that says To {Name}, From Jungkook. “You should open yours, too,” you tell him, locating the bright purple bag you’d put his gift in and extricating it from beneath the tree. “Here.”
He murmurs a thank you, his face creasing into a smile, and you watch him rifle through the bag for a moment before peeling back the golden paper that he’s wrapped your present in. The box inside is made of nondescript white cardboard, and your jaw drops open when you remove the lid.
“How—how did you know I wanted this?”
Jungkook fiddles with his hair, tucking a few loose strands behind his ear. “I saw you eyeing it a few weeks ago, when we were walking home from the bowling alley. And then again, after we went to dinner. Do you like it?”
You run a fingertip along the ridges of the knit scarf, admiring the pattern and the softness of the yarn. “I love it, Jungkook. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he murmurs, his smile broadening as he turns his attention back to your gift. The last bits of tissue paper fall away, and his eyes widen like saucers when he reads the label of the box. “Hang on. Did you buy me a new headset?”
You nod. “Yeah. You mentioned that yours broke, right?”
“Yeah, but…” He trails off. “Wow. Thank you, really. These aren’t cheap. I was going to pick up a pair during the summer sale.”
“I found a coupon, don’t worry,” you tell him with a laugh. “I’m just glad I bought the right kind.”
He grins. “And you really like the scarf? Honest? It was kind of hard to tell what you were looking at when we walked by the store.”
“Just the fact that you noticed me staring is already impressive,” you tell him, giggling. “And yes, I love it. It’s perfect.”
Jungkook reaches out and takes it out of the box, the knit material unraveling to its full length. “Not yet,” he says, beckoning you to lean in. And when you do, he settles it around your neck with a quiet tenderness that has your heart skipping several beats before taking a nosedive into your churning stomach.
Maybe he’s doing it for show, you reason. Your entire family is here, and if anyone had any doubts about the truth of your relationship, they’ve surely been allayed now. Jungkook is close enough for you to count each individual eyelash fluttering against his cheeks as he blinks, and you make it all the way to seven before your gaze drops to the little freckle on the tip of his nose, and then even further to the one that sits beneath his bottom lip.
“There. Now it’s perfect,” Jungkook says, pulling one fringed end through the knot he’s created and brushing a few stray yarn fibers off your cheek. The emotion that suffuses your chest at the touch is so overwhelming that you momentarily lose the ability to speak, but luckily, you don’t have to.
“Don’t think we’ve forgotten about you, Jungkook!”
Your mother’s voice jerks you out of your daze, and you tear away from your companion’s touch as if burned. Jungkook glances up, wide-eyed, and you watch the confusion etch across his face when he spots the brightly colored bag dangling from your mom’s hand.
“We got you a little something,” she explains, holding the bag out for him to take. “It isn’t much, I’m afraid. But with any luck, you’ll be able to get some use out of them.”
Jungkook accepts the gift and lowers it into his lap, taking out the items one by one—two pairs of patterned wool socks, a novelty mug that reads This is my bah hum mug!, and a pair of red knit mittens that you recognize as Gram Gram’s handiwork. “These are lovely,” he remarks, fingering the bright yarn. “Thank you so much, Mrs. {Last Name}.”
Your mom waves off his gratitude. “No need to thank me, dear. We’re just happy that you’re here to celebrate with us.”
Molly rises from her spot in the pile of candy wrappers that’s overtaken most of the carpeted floor, a brown headband dangling from her chocolate-stained fingers. “This is for you, too,” she says, marching over to Jungkook and placing the headband crookedly on his head. Jungkook beams and adjusts it so that the end isn’t jabbing into the shell of his ear, and you can’t help but giggle at the sight of the sequined reindeer antlers sticking out from each side, the bells at the tip jingling each time he moves his head.
“Smile,” you tell him, opening up your camera app, and he immediately does as requested, his lips curving up at the edges.
“So?” he asks once you’ve lowered your phone again. “Am I pretty like a prince?”
You glance down at the photograph you’ve just taken, the butterflies in your belly beginning to stir. “Yeah,” you murmur after a second’s hesitation. “Definitely.”
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It takes another hour for everyone to finish unwrapping their gifts. The younger children are dutifully trading the last pieces of candy they have for their favorites, and Jungkook has migrated over to the other side of the room to thank your Gram Gram for the mittens. She’s holding his tattooed hand between both of her smaller ones and animatedly saying something that you can’t quite make out over the general commotion, but you have a sneaking suspicion that it has something to do with you.
You’re picking up discarded ribbons, gathering them into one of the many empty boxes scattered around the room, when Jungkook returns to your side. “Have you heard?” he asks. “Apparently, we’re going sledding.”
You laugh. “Yeah, it’s an annual tradition. There’s a park with a giant hill about two blocks away, where I used to go every day in the winter as a kid.”
Jungkook raises a dubious brow. “Every day?”
“Every day,” you confirm. “Ask my mom for the photo albums. She’ll show you.”
He chortles. “I’m not sure we have time to sit and look at photo albums. It looks like Molly and Sadie are starting to get impatient.” Pointedly, he inclines his head at the two girls, who have started an impromptu wrapping paper ball fight. You heave a sigh and step in to intervene, and after ten minutes and quite a bit of wrangling, the living room is passably clean and devoid of candy wrappers and ribbon bows.
The sun is shining bright overhead when you open the front door, glinting off of the fresh snow that’s fallen sometime during the night. Walking over to the garage, you enter the door code and step back as it eases open with a rumbling mechanical whirr. “We keep the sleds in the back,” you inform Jungkook, who’s joined you as you begin to make your way around the car parked inside, the reindeer headband still perched proudly atop his head. “Can you grab the three big ones?”
Jungkook complies, easily reaching up to unhook the plastic sleds from where they’re hanging above a shelf of gardening supplies. You grab the other sleds from where they’re leaning against the wall—a few bright orange discs each about the size of a trash can lid—and turn back to where your cousins are waiting near the door. “Remember, you all have to share, okay?” you tell them in the sternest voice you can muster. Dutifully, they nod, and you and Jungkook begin the long task of herding them two blocks in the direction of the park.
There are already a few children there when you arrive, shrieking with laughter as they fly down the hill on multicolored sleds. The older cousins immediately dart off to join them, and you stifle a giggle when one of them bellyflops into the snow and goes spinning sideways before gravity takes hold and drags him down the incline.
“‘Kookie?” Molly is standing at Jungkook’s side, her head of brown curls reaching no higher than his waist as she tugs on the sleeve of his puffy black coat. “Can you ride with me?”
Jungkook kneels down and takes her hand in his mittened ones, and you belatedly realize he’s already putting your Gram Gram’s gift to good use. “Is this your first time sledding, Molly?” he asks.
Tentatively, she nods, and Jungkook smiles and gives her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Come on,” he says, taking the long pink sled she’s pulling behind her. “You sit down first, okay? I’ll be right behind you.”
“I don’t wanna go too fast,” Molly declares, and Jungkook nods in understanding.
“We’ll start here then, okay? The hill isn’t as steep on this side.” Carefully, he sits down behind Molly, his legs on either side of her small frame. He urges her to hang on to the sled’s rope handle, checking to make sure she has a good grip on it before pushing off with his hands. The momentum is just enough to tip the sled over the crest, and physics does the rest. They cruise down the hill smoothly, coming to a gradual stop at the bottom, and you can see from the delighted grin on Molly’s face that she loved every minute.
“That was so fun!” she shrieks, waving at you. “You gotta come down too, {Name}!”
You heft your own sled, swallowing down the dangerous warmth that’s threatening to burst forth from your chest and release the horde of butterflies that have taken up residence there. “I’m coming!” you call, your childhood muscle memory returning full force as you take a short running start before flopping down onto your sled. The added momentum launches you down the hill, the icy wind stinging your cheeks, and by the time you come to a stop at the bottom you’re grinning so wide your entire face hurts.
“Let’s go again!” Sadie and Dakota have joined Molly, and all three of them are now looking expectantly at you and Jungkook. “Can you push us so we go even faster?”
“Sure,” Jungkook says agreeably. “Just give me one sec, okay?”
The kids nod and dart off, racing each other back up the hill with the sled in tow. Jungkook tugs off one of his new mittens with his teeth, reaching into his coat pocket for a hair tie, and you try not to stare as he gathers his wavy hair at his crown and fastens it into a loose little bun that leaves only a few strands to frame his face. “Ready to head back up?” he asks, offering you a hand.
You hesitate before taking it, your fingers curling around his warm palm as he pulls you to your feet. Jungkook puts his mitten back on, and you murmur a thanks when he gallantly volunteers to pull the sled back up the hill in your stead.
The hours fly by—filled with laughter and snow flying every which way when your eleven-year-old cousin, Damien, starts an impromptu snowball fight. Your mother calls you halfway through to check in, and you reassure her that everyone’s doing just fine as you duck behind a nearby tree for cover. A new notification sits on your screen when you end the call, kimdaily’s name emblazoned there like a taunt, but you swipe it away after a moment’s hesitation and rejoin the snowball fight, rushing to Jungkook’s aid as Damien and a few others launch a particularly pointed attack.
“Oh my god!” you cry as Damien hefts up a chunk of snow the size of a basketball. “Jungkook, watch—!”
Your warning comes too late. The snow smashes into Jungkook’s side with a thwump, and he staggers back a few steps before losing his balance and falling to the ground. Damien sprints off, cackling like the maniacal little terror he is, and you dart over to Jungkook with every intention of helping him back to his feet.
The icy patch on the ground throws a wrench in that plan. Your boot skids across the slick surface, and you flail helplessly before gravity brings you down atop Jungkook’s chest and nearly knocks your forehead against his. Your faces are mere centimeters apart, all the air having escaped your lungs at the impact, and your eyes widen in horror when you realize that he’s probably faring no better with almost the entirety of your weight resting atop him. “Oh my god,” you gasp, trying and failing to stand up again. Your feet slip almost immediately, sending you tumbling back down onto Jungkook, your breaths intermingling as you fight to recover the lost oxygen. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
Jungkook’s chest rumbles, and to your surprise, he’s laughing. “You should see the look on your face,” he wheezes. “You’re acting like I died, or something.”
You manage to roll off of him at last, sitting up straight and fixing him with a glare. “I could’ve really hurt you!”
“But you didn’t,” he replies simply, still flat on his back in the snow. “Not really, at least. My sternum hurts a little, but I’ll recover.”
“We should still take a closer look when we get back to the house,” you remark, laying a hand on his shoulder as he sits up. “It’s getting close to dinnertime, anyway. I’m going to start rounding up the kids.”
“I’ll help,” Jungkook says, accepting the hand you offer him as he clambers back to his feet. “Lead the way.”
Dinner is a haphazard affair. Half of your family members take up residence in front of the television, watching holiday reruns of The Great British Baking Show, while a smaller group starts a game of poker at the kitchen table, where by the sound of it, Great Aunt Martha is making a killing. A few of your cousins decide they want to bake cookies after the meal, and you and Jungkook end up supervising the entire affair, from the mixing of the dough—which is when you catch Dakota trying to make off with all the chocolate chips before they can be added—to the time it takes the double batch of cookies to bake. You stir up two mugs of hot cocoa as Jungkook carefully transfers the last of the cookies to the cooling rack, handing one over to him as he finishes up and turns off the oven.
“You know, these turned out surprisingly good,” you remark, picking out a warm cookie and taking a bite. “I thought for sure they’d mixed up the sugar and salt earlier.”
“Not to mention all the vanilla extract they poured in,” Jungkook adds, shuddering. “You’re right, though. These are good.”
Loading up a plate with cookies, you and Jungkook take it to the living room alongside your cocoa. The couches are already occupied, so you grab a few discarded throw pillows and a tartan throw from the armchair where your father is sitting. Tossing the pillows on the ground in front of the fireplace, you take a seat and lay the blanket over your lap. Jungkook joins you, and when you offer him a corner of your blanket, he gratefully accepts.
“How’s your sternum feeling?” you ask.
He hums, leaning back against the pillows and taking a sip of his hot cocoa. “It’s fine. Nothing a cookie or two can’t fix.”
He’s eaten well over two cookies by this point—not to mention several balls of raw cookie dough—but you decide not to bring up those particulars. Instead, your gaze drops down to his mouth, where a dollop of whipped cream has made a home along his upper lip.
“Cream!” you blurt.
Jungkook blinks, twice in quick succession. “Huh?”
Cheeks warming, you quickly clarify by gesturing at his mouth. Realization dawns across his face, and you watch as he raises a tattooed hand and swipes his knuckles across his mouth. “Better?”
You nod and bury your face into your mug, hoping that maybe if you drink enough cocoa, you’ll be able to drown the butterflies fluttering in your belly.
The fire crackles cheerily in the fireplace behind you, warming your back. It’s nothing compared to the heat emanating off of Jungkook though—his proximity igniting molten warmth in your veins every time he reaches out to grab a cookie from the plate in your lap or takes a sip from his mug, his lips pursing around the rim. On the other side of the room, an episode of The Great British Baking Show comes to a close, the credits rolling across the screen.
Evidently, Sadie and Molly have no intention of letting that time go to waste. The two little girls trundle over—Sadie wearing the reindeer antlers that Molly gave Jungkook earlier in the day—and plop down at the edge of the tartan throw that you and Jungkook are sharing.
“Are you in love?”
You choke on your cocoa. Next to you, Jungkook stiffens into a statue. “Are we what?”
“In love,” Sadie repeats, oblivious to your sputtering panic. “Like in the movies.”
“We—” You’re at a loss. “We, uh…”
Jungkook recovers his voice and mobility before you can stammer out another garbled syllable. “Yeah. We are,” he says, and you nearly choke again. Sadie and Molly, however, look pleased.
“When did you know?” Molly presses.
“How do you know?” Sadie asks.
Jungkook glances over, locking eyes with you for a split second before his gaze skitters away. “I realized it pretty recently, I guess. The more time I spent with her, the more I liked her.”
The girls turn to you. “What about you, {Name}?” Molly asks. “How do you know you love Kookie?”
You inhale deeply and release it back out again, trying to quell the panic beating at your heart. “I… I guess I just like spending time with him. He makes me laugh.” Out of the corner of your eye, you chance a look at Jungkook, who’s rubbing the back of his neck and staring down at his toes. “And he always tries to cheer me up when I’m sad. It’s… nice.”
Molly sighs and steals a cookie from your plate. “I wanna be in love,” she says in between bites.
Jungkook reaches out to ruffle her brown hair. “It’ll happen one day, kiddo. Just wait and see.”
That seems to satisfy both girls. Cheerfully, they return to their spot in front of the television, leaving you alone with Jungkook and the palpable tension that’s settled in the air like fog.
You break the silence first. “I think I’m done with this,” you say, picking up your nearly empty mug and rising to your feet. “I’m gonna go rinse it out, and then I’m probably going to head upstairs for the night.”
Jungkook fidgets with the edge of the tartan blanket, picking at a loose thread. “I think I’m going to stay until the end of this episode,” he says, inclining his head at the new bakers on the television. “Can’t leave without seeing who wins, and all that.”
You manage the stiffest of nods before turning and fleeing the scene with your mug in hand and your heart in your throat. The butterflies in your belly are in a frenzy, their wings beating against the slats of your ribcage as if trying to break free, and it’s all you can do to throw your cup in the dishwasher before dashing past the ongoing poker game at the kitchen table and taking the stairs two at a time. The relative safety of your childhood bedroom is a welcome relief—a sigh escaping your lips as you close the door and collapse against it. For a few long seconds, you just breathe—feeling the oxygen swell in your lungs before releasing it out again into the open air.
Love. The word echoes in your mind and rattles around your brain, the mantra fraying at the delicate threads of your mended heart. Unbidden, your ex-boyfriend’s face materializes out of the morass of your consciousness, sparking a sharp pang in your chest that catches you by surprise with its ferocity.
It takes a few minutes for you to regain your composure, but when you do, you immediately head into the bathroom to splash some water on your face. Turning on the shower, you make good use of the time it takes for the water to heat up by grabbing your pajamas from your suitcase and brushing your teeth. By the time you’re finished, the water is hot, and you step underneath the spray to scrub your body and mind clean.
When you exit the bathroom, Jungkook is sitting at the edge of his side of the bed, scrolling idly through his phone. At the sound of the door opening, he looks up, his brown eyes locking with yours for a moment before he awkwardly clears his throat and tucks his phone away.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” he says, staring down at his palms. “I, uh, didn’t really think your cousins were ready for the truth about our relationship, so I figured a white lie wouldn’t hurt. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
You shake your head. “You didn’t upset me,” you tell him, slowly making your way to your side of the bed and rooting around for your charging cable. “You just… took me by surprise. That’s all.”
He huffs out a humorless chuckle. “Yeah. No kidding.”
Finally locating your charger, you plug in your phone. The device buzzes gently, the screen lighting up, and it’s impossible to miss the new notification bearing kimdaily’s name that lies in wait there. “Not again,” you sigh, sitting down and swiping it open.
Jungkook pauses on his way to the bathroom. “Everything okay?”
“It’s just my ex.” You wiggle your phone. “What do you think he’s posted now?”
He frowns. “Now? Did he post something earlier?”
You scroll through Namjoon’s profile for confirmation and nod. “Snowman. Few snow angels. And now he’s watching Love, Actually, apparently.”
You snort. “Right?”
Jungkook looks like he wants to say something else—you can see it written all over his face. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, his fingers stilling on the bathroom doorknob, and you raise a questioning brow when he hesitates a moment too long.
“What is it?”
He lets out the breath that he’s apparently been holding, releasing it all at once. “Is it okay if I ask what happened between you two?” he asks softly.
You freeze, and Jungkook immediately backtracks, waving a hand in dismissal as he scurries backward into the bathroom. “Never mind. Forget I asked. I’m being nosy.”
“You really are,” you agree, finding your voice at last. “But, it’s okay. I don’t mind. Honestly, I kinda think you deserve to know after all we’ve been through the past few weeks.”
Step by step, Jungkook ventures back into the bedroom and takes a cautious seat on the mattress beside you, taking care to give you plenty of space. He doesn’t say anything further, just sits silently and stares at his hands as he waits for you to begin. And after a few seconds, you finally do—sucking in a deep breath and exhaling in a flurry of words.
“We started dating in September. We were together for just over a year,” you begin. “And maybe it’s stupid, but that felt really significant for me. It’s why I told you to lie—to say that we’ve been dating since October. My family thinks that Namjoon and I broke up in August, just before our one-year anniversary. But really, we didn’t end things until October. I remember, because it was right after Jimin’s birthday party.”
“You were at a party?” Jungkook gapes. “That’s horrible.”
You shrug. “I know. But it was better than lying to ourselves for any longer.”
Jungkook hesitates, fiddling with one of the holes in his jeans. “Did… did he cheat?” he asks, and you sigh and shake your head.
“No, it was nothing like that. We just… grew apart, I guess. I don’t know how or when, but I woke up one day and it was like we were different people. And we realized we just didn’t make sense together. Not anymore.”
Jungkook shifts—the mattress rising and dipping with his weight. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs after a long beat of silence. “Growing apart from someone you used to be so close to—that’s probably one of the saddest things about growing up."
Your chest is beginning to feel a little too tight, your eyes stinging at the corners. “Yeah. No kidding.”
Jungkook seems to sense your mounting dismay, because he tentatively scoots a little closer. “It’s not all bad, though,” he murmurs, laying a hand on your shoulder. “I like to think it means you’re moving forward, and that you’re on the right path. Sometimes you take a detour, and sometimes you take a wrong turn. But I think that we all end up back on track, one way or another.”
You peer up at him through your lashes. “Are you saying that Namjoon was a wrong turn?”
“Probably,” Jungkook admits quietly. “But we all take the wrong turn sometimes. All that matters is that you’re back on the right path now.”
The tension in your shoulders eases somewhat, the tightness in your chest subsiding. “You really think I’m on the right path?”
He smiles. “Yeah. I do.”
Silence falls again, and Jungkook pats you on the shoulder one last time before slowly rising to his feet. He’s halfway to the bathroom when you call his name, and when he turns around curiously, you can’t quite bring yourself to look him in the eye. “Thank you,” you mumble, addressing your knees instead. “I really needed to hear that, I think. I haven’t really talked to anyone about what happened with Namjoon, and… I’m glad I finally did. So thank you.”
Jungkook hums, and when he answers, his voice is as soft as a breath of wind. “Anytime.”
That night, you sleep much easier, finding comfort in Jungkook’s presence beside you instead of disquiet.
You open your eyes to sunshine the next morning—a narrow beam shining through the gap in the curtains and illuminating the golden dust motes that float lazily around the otherwise dark bedroom. Contentedly, you let your eyes fall shut again, snuggling back into the cozy cocoon of your covers and relishing the almost stifling warmth pressed against your back. Off in the distance, you can hear the other occupants of the house beginning to stir, mattresses creaking and showers turning on. Already, you can make out the faint scent of coffee wafting upstairs from the kitchen.
Blindly, you reach out and fumble for your phone on the nightstand, your fingers scrabbling across the cardboard edges of a tissue box and the Hello Kitty alarm clock that you never had the heart to get rid of before finally landing on the sleek glass screen. You tug the device toward you to check the time, grunting when the charging cable runs out of slack, and clumsily try to roll closer to the nightstand when the arm around your waist tightens and thwarts your escape.
The realization hits you then—slamming into you like a cargo train. You’re in bed with Jungkook. Jungkook, whose arm is currently wound around your waist—and now that you’re paying attention, whose face is buried in the back of your neck and whose breath you can feel against the delicate skin of your nape. “Oh, shit,” you breathe. “Shit, shit, shit.”
There’s no way you can possibly escape his embrace without waking him, but you try nonetheless, twisting and turning out of his grasp. Jungkook lets out a hoarse groan as you finally squirm free, rolling onto his back, and you eye him warily as he suppresses a yawn behind his palm.
“G’morning,” he rasps, his voice a full octave lower than normal. “What time is it?”
You grab your phone off the nightstand, clutching onto it like it’s a lifeline. “Just after eight.”
“Mm.” Jungkook grunts out something unintelligible, rubbing at his eyes drowsily before pushing himself up into a sitting position. “We just have that breakfast today, right? The sendoff thing?”
You nod. Every year, your family wraps up the holiday weekend with a big breakfast bash—one last hearty meal before everyone has to drive or fly back to their own homes and lives. It’s a disorganized affair at best, but the food is always delicious and you always leave with leftovers that reheat well. “Yeah. Supposedly, it starts at ten, but it really just depends on when everyone decides to show up.”
Jungkook chuckles. “They’ll come when they’re hungry.”
The sun rises higher into the sky as you and Jungkook take turns in the bathroom, brushing your teeth and getting dressed. You’re pulling on your favorite pair of fuzzy socks when Jungkook comes out with his hair still damp from the shower, the occasional droplet dripping down and sinking into the fabric of his charcoal crewneck sweatshirt. The sleeves are rolled up to expose the network of branching veins that run along his forearms, and the sizable rip in the left knee of his jeans reveals thigh muscles that you didn’t even know existed, but you determinedly force your gaze back down to your toes as he putters around and puts his silver earrings back into his ears.
As soon as you step into the hallway, you can smell and hear bacon sizzling. Together, you and Jungkook head down to the kitchen where your parents are standing at the stove, each with a pan in front of them and hard at work.
“Morning, kids,” your mother greets, waving her spatula. “We’re running low on coffee—would you mind brewing some more?”
“Sure.” You make your way over to the coffeepot, filling up the machine with fresh water and ground beans. Your father enlists Jungkook’s help with something at the stove, and you can’t help but smile when Jungkook obligingly dons the pastel pink daisy apron from yesterday in preparation.
The morning wears on. Aunt Donna and Uncle Bill join you in the kitchen, helping where they can. One by one, the cousins awaken from their slumber in the living room and begin slinking into the kitchen for something to snack on, and your mother is quick to send them off with little bowls of diced strawberries topped with a dollop of whipped cream.
Right as the clock strikes ten, the doorbell starts ringing—signalling the arrival of the rest of your family. They troop in, raucous as ever even after two days together, and the conversation lasts through the cooking and well into the meal. In fact, you’re positive that they could’ve kept conversing until the new year, but Uncle Bill checks his watch and cuts into a discussion about Christmas tree shortages by loudly dropping his silverware onto his empty plate and clearing his throat.
“Well, I hate to say it, but we’ve got a flight to catch in a couple hours. We should really be heading out.”
And with that catalyst, the rest of your family gradually follows suit. The relatives who live far away start saying their goodbyes, and Great Aunt Martha cites her bad back as all the more reason she should drive back to her house across town now and get some rest. Jungkook gets his fair share of goodbyes and warm wishes as well, and you briefly overhear Great Aunt Martha telling him that he better be back next year with a ring to put on your finger. Several cousins run up to hug him, and Molly and Sadie, in particular, wrap themselves around his legs and refuse to let go. Your heart swells in your chest when he finally extricates himself and crouches down to embrace each of them in turn.
Before long, the time finally arrives for you and Jungkook to make the drive back to the city. You hug your parents and promise to text them once you’re home safe, and your mother hands over a paper bag filled with more containers of leftovers than you can count. “Be sure to add some milk to the mashed potatoes before you reheat them,” she advises. “And don’t you dare put the pie in the microwave!”
“I know, Mom,” you tell her, laughing. “I hate soggy crust as much as you do.”
Smiling, she turns to Jungkook and presses a plastic container into his hands. “These are the leftover cookies, dear. We aren’t going to eat them, but I know you were enjoying them last night.”
Jungkook opens his mouth, no doubt to protest her generosity, but she cuts him off by wrapping him in a tight hug. “Drive safe,” she tells him, and he nods.
“I will.”
“Take care of my little girl,” your father cuts in. “You don’t hurt her now, you hear me?”
Aghast, you turn to him. “Dad!” you begin, but Jungkook just laughs and nods again.
“Yes, sir.”
There’s no traffic on your way back to the city, for which you are grateful. You aren’t sure you could stand any more time trapped in a car with your dark-haired roommate, painfully aware of every flex of his arms and every tick in his jaw as he drives. By the time he finally parks the car, you are practically ready to jump out of your skin—your knees jittery and your heart pounding dangerously hard against your ribs.
“Thank you for doing this,” you tell Jungkook as you open the car door and climb out. “Now we can finally go back to normal.”
“Right,” he says. “Normal.” And as you turn and head for the front door, you completely miss the fleeting look that flits across his face.
“So, when exactly did you go blind?”
Jimin has you cornered in the bathroom, caging you in with his body, and despite your best friend’s lithe appearance he is in firm possession of a solid frame of dense muscle and all the stubbornness of a mule. “What are you talking about?” you ask, trying to push past him, but he holds his ground and flicks you on the forehead for good measure.
“You heard me,” he says. “Or have you gone deaf, too? Maybe you’re just a bigger idiot than I thought you were. Or are you being stupid on purpose?”
Irritably, you cross your arms over your chest and shift your weight, tapping your socked foot against the tiled floor. “Okay, did I miss a memo? When did we agree to start being needlessly cruel to each other?”
“Since you decided to start being stupid,” Jimin replies bluntly. “Seriously, {Name}. Can’t you see that he really likes you?”
Once again, you try and fail to shove past Jimin. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Jimin huffs out an exasperated sigh. “Jungkook!” he hisses, casting a wary glance at the cracked bathroom door before lowering his voice to a whisper. “Jungkook likes you, you idiot. I’ve never seen him like this, and I’ve known him for going on eight years now. Things are weird between you two—don’t you feel it?”
Your mouth opens and closes a few times, but no words escape. When you regain your voice at last, all you can manage is a weak stammer of protest, one that sounds unconvincing even to your own ears. “Don’t be ridiculous. Jungkook, he… he doesn’t like me. That’s insane.”
Jimin scoffs. “You’re insane, and I’m right. He’s been staring at you all afternoon—did you notice that? I don’t think he even knows what movie we just watched.”
“He was probably just spacing out or something,” you retort. “That doesn’t mean anything.”
That earns you another sigh. “It’s been two days since you came back from your parents’ house, right? Have you two even talked since then?”
“We talk,” you say defensively. “We put together a grocery list yesterday.”
“That doesn’t count, and you know it,” Jimin snaps. “Look, I know something happened over Christmas—it’s written all over your face. And you clearly like him too, so why don’t you go in there and do something about it?”
Your face heats up at the accusation, but you refuse to concede that easily. “Did your sister make brownies again or something? Are you high?”
Jimin, unfortunately, knows you far too well to fall for your deflections, his honey brown eyes narrowing in triumph. “I knew it!” he whispers excitedly, grabbing your shoulders and giving you a shake. “You like him, and he likes you. So, I’m going to make myself scarce now, and you are going to ask that boy out because it’s the twenty-first fucking century and women can make the first move if they want to.”
With that, Jimin turns on his heel and flings open the bathroom door, leaving you no time to protest and no chance to drag him back so you can tell him how wrong he is about everything. So you can tell him that you don’t like Jungkook, and he most certainly doesn’t like you.
You’re roommates. You’d probably even classify him as a friend, now. But to call him anything else? The mere thought sets your face aflame, so you turn on the sink and splash your face with copious amounts of cold water before exiting the bathroom.
“Jimin—” you begin as you enter the living room, only to stop dead in your tracks when you’re greeted by the sight of Jungkook and Jungkook alone.
“He just left,” your roommate says, rising from the couch, and you grit out a curse. “Is something wrong? Did something happen with you guys?”
“No, it’s just—” You sigh. “It’s just Jimin being Jimin. Like usual.”
“It almost sounded like you were fighting,” Jungkook notes, before he blanches and tries to walk back his statement. “Not that I was eavesdropping, or anything! I just, it’s just that I—”
You shake your head, cutting off his rambling. “It’s fine, Jungkook—we weren’t fighting. Jimin’s just being a pain in the ass about something.”
“He’s a pain in the ass about most things,” Jungkook points out with a chuckle, his eyes crinkling into crescents and his upper lip disappearing into his grin. The sun is just beginning to set, painting the walls of your living room with slanting rays of gold and casting his face in an ethereal glow. And though you hate to admit when you’re wrong, you can no longer deny the feelings bubbling up in your chest, warm and ebullient.
“Jungk—” you start, your voice scarcely above a whisper.
“Weshouldgetdinner!” Jungkook blurts suddenly, and you stop, blinking in confusion.
His cheeks flush, but he presses on nonetheless. “We should get dinner,” he repeats, the syllables dragging from his throat. “Like, as a date. A real one. I… I’ve been meaning to ask for a while now.”
Your mouth opens but no words come out, and Jungkook seems to take the silence as a bad sign. The glimmer of hope in his eyes fades, his shoulders slouching beneath his oversized black sweatshirt. “Sorry,” he mumbles, sinking back down onto the couch. “Forget I said anyth—”
It’s his turn to blink. “Huh?”
“Yes,” you repeat, taking a few tentative steps forward. “Yes, let’s get dinner, because I… I like you, Jungkook. I think I’ve liked you for a while now.”
A slow grin spreads across his face, as bright as the sun painting golden streaks through the sliver of sky visible from the window. “Sorry, I think I just went temporarily deaf,” he teases, swirling his pinky in his ear. “Could you repeat that?”
You huff, reaching out to smack his arm weakly. “God, you’re so embarrassing.”
“But you like it,” he replies, intercepting your hand and lacing your fingers together. “You like me. Now, where do you want to go for our first real date?”
“So,” Jungkook says, leaning back in his chair. “Here we are.”
The two of you are at the same restaurant you took him to just before your company’s holiday party, but this time you’re indoors instead of on the rooftop. The wooden decor is cozy and the lighting is dim, and every table is decorated with a spherical glass bowl that holds three floating candles, their flickering flames reflecting off the water and illuminating your companion’s face in warm, hazy gold.
“Here we are,” you agree with a grin. “Again.”
You both laugh, and the conversation starts from there—flowing so easily that you wonder how you ever lived a life without him in it. You swap silly childhood stories and share the details of your favorite vacations, and it feels like no time has passed at all when Jungkook pulls out his wallet to pay the check.
“My turn,” he says, plopping his credit card down, and his voice leaves no room for argument.
Snow begins falling as you and Jungkook head back in the direction of your shared home—fat white flakes flurrying down to land in your lashes and dust across your shoulders. Jungkook’s hair—loose and falling around his face in wispy waves—looks as if it’s been scattered with icy stars to match the constellations glimmering in his dark irises, and ever so slowly, you reach out to take his hand.
“Kiss me?” you request.
Jungkook’s gaze darkens. “Thought you’d never ask,” he breathes, and your palms fly up to his broad shoulders when he leans in at last and crushes his mouth to yours.
Somehow, the two of you manage to make it home, the snow on your clothes beginning to melt as soon as you step past the threshold. Jungkook kicks the door shut with a booted foot, and you sigh into his mouth as he rids you of your coat and cages you against the wall of the entryway. Soft lips trail from the line of your jaw down to the column of your neck, and you shiver when he finds a particularly sensitive spot near your clavicle and lets his teeth graze across it.
His hands are at your hips now, palming along the ridged corduroy of your skirt as his fingertips dig into the soft curve of your rear. Cupping his cheek, you bring him back into a kiss, relishing the unhurried way his mouth moves against yours even as hardness grows against your lower belly. Deliberately, you slide your palm down his chest, past the toned ridges of his abdomen and all the way down to the growing bulge in his jeans.
Jungkook stops you before you can brush against him, his fingers ironclad around your wrist. “Wait,” he says, his voice hoarse. “Maybe… we shouldn’t do this. Maybe we should take things slow.”
You fall limp in his grasp, and he slowly releases your hand so you can lower it back down to your side. “Slow,” you repeat, trying to hide your disappointment. “Right.”
Gentle fingers find your chin, tilting your face up so he can press a sweet kiss on your mouth. “I just don’t want to fuck this up,” he murmurs, his breath fanning your cheeks with every word. “I like you way too much for that.” Then he glances down to the tent in his jeans, awkwardly pulling his coat closed to obscure it.
The kiss doesn’t stop the disappointment from blooming in your belly, but you nod nonetheless. “Okay,” you whisper, letting your lips graze his once more. “We’re taking things slow, right? So, I guess this is the part where I say goodnight.”
Jungkook’s lips pull up into a tiny grin, his fingers reluctantly loosening their grip on your waist. “Okay,” he breathes. “Goodnight, {Name}.”
“Goodnight, Jungkook,” you reply, committing every last detail of his face to memory before turning and heading for your bedroom. Jungkook’s bedroom door closes behind him, and you stare at it for a moment before shutting your own. Taking a seat on the edge of your bed, you unbutton your skirt and kick it off your legs until it falls flat onto the carpet. Your tights meet the same fate, replaced quickly with flannel pajama pants, but your sweater you decide to keep on for a while longer as you meander into the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face.
You’re still thinking of Jungkook when you climb into bed ten minutes later, now braless and dressed in an oversized t-shirt. You wonder if he’s in his pajamas, and whether he’s in bed or if he’s decided to start one of those late night gaming sessions that he seems to favor. You wonder what would happen if you walked across the living room and knocked on his bedroom door right now—if he would sweep you up and continue what you’d started or if he’d push you away. Your feet carry you over to your bedroom door before you even fully realize what you’re doing, your fingers already wrapped around the doorknob.
It takes a second for you to steel your nerves enough to open the door, but when you do, you see that you aren’t alone. Jungkook stands on the other side, his hand raised and poised to knock. Shock flits across his face, his mouth falling into a little ‘o’ of surprise, and you’re certain you’re mirroring his expression.
“H-hi,” you manage.
“Hi,” he replies. “Do you want to hear something stupid?”
Whatever you were expecting him to say, it certainly wasn’t that. “Um. Sure, I guess.”
Jungkook raises his hand, extending his pointer finger before jabbing it into the center of his chest. “It’s me. I’m stupid. I was brushing my teeth a few minutes ago, when I suddenly realized that I missed you. And that’s stupid, because I like you, and you like me, and you literally live on the other side of the living room.” Slowly, he glances up to meet your gaze, an expression of tentative hope painted across his features. “So, fuck taking things slow. Right?”
You’re already pressing to your tiptoes, fisting your hands in the collar of his white t-shirt to tug him down to your level. “Yeah,” you whisper, the butterflies in your belly taking off into celebratory flight. “Fuck taking things slow.”
Kissing Jungkook is quickly becoming one of your favorite things to do. His chest is bare beneath your fingertips, a canvas of honeyed skin and strong muscle for you to explore, and you take full advantage as he works your lips apart and licks ardently into your mouth. Wandering hands crawl beneath the hem of your oversized t-shirt, pushing up the material to expose the swell of your breasts. Your nipples pebble at the exposure, and Jungkook groans as he rids you of your shirt entirely before leaning in to envelop one in his warm, wet mouth.
“I’ve been thinking about this,” he rasps, the vibrations of his voice sending a delicious shiver down the length of your spine. “Been thinking about how nice your tits always look—and fuck, this is better than I could’ve ever imagined.”
Breathlessly, you wind your arms around his neck, your fingers delving into his thick hair and tugging until he takes the hint and slants his mouth across yours once again. His hands settle below the swell of your ass, pulling you close, until you’re settled firmly in his lap with your legs on either side of his denim-clad thighs, his name escaping you in a sigh as he deepens the kiss.
Jungkook smiles against your lips. “Pretty girl,” he croons, pulling away just enough to murmur the words as his thumbs dip into the waistband of your panties. A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest when he discovers the growing wetness between your legs, two fingers skimming through the slick before he presses experimentally against your clit. Your hips jump at the pressure, and he smirks in satisfaction.
Ever so slowly, he gathers you up in his arms, shifting until he can lay you back against your mattress. The sheets rumple beneath you as he crawls up your body to plant a sweet kiss on your waiting mouth, before returning his attention to the soft spot on your clavicle that he’s already discovered, lavishing it with attention until you’re gasping.
Jungkook reads your body like it’s his favorite poem, exploring every line and stanza until he’s committed the words to memory and making note of every stutter and hitch in your breath. There’s an art in the way he repeats the motions that make you keen, and something sensual in the way his lips curl every time he pulls out a whimper. You’re trembling by the time he reaches the apex of your thighs, his fingers closing around the elastic of your panties and pulling them down and off your legs. Tossing them aside, he lays his hands on your knees, his gaze locking with yours as he spreads you open and settles into the space he’s created. Instinct has you trying to close your legs and embarrassment has you shying away from his stare, but he presses a fond kiss to the soft skin of your inner thigh and soothes you with a soft murmur of your name.
“Don’t hide from me,” he breathes. “You’re gorgeous.”
Then he’s leaning in, and your breath hitches in your throat when he boldly licks a broad stripe up your exposed pussy. Your fingers fly down to his hair, tangling in the silky strands as he finds your clit and gives it an experimental suck. Pleasure flares in your belly, your hips jolting off the mattress, and Jungkook chuckles as he settles himself more comfortably and winds his arms around your legs to keep you spread open for him, the inky tattoos swirling around his right arm only emphasizing the muscle.
“I thought about this, too, y’know” he murmurs, circling your clit with his tongue before dipping down to your slit and lapping up the juices there. “Thought about how good you probably taste, and how pretty you’d look cumming on my tongue.” He inhales deeply, his eyes fluttering shut, and your cheeks warm when you see the slick coating his lips and chin. “And fuck, I was right. You taste fucking divine.”
It should be strange, hearing such filth spewing from your normally mild-mannered roommate’s lips. It should be odd, seeing him nestled between your spread thighs with his long hair in disarray, his eyes hooded and darkened into obsidian. But the strangest thing is that it doesn’t feel strange or odd—it feels good. Right. As if this is where you were meant to be, all along.
Warm palms smooth up your thighs, splaying against your belly. Jungkook leans down to press a soft kiss to your clit, his lips teasing at the sensitive little bundle of nerves, and when your hips jump in his grasp, he lets out a hoarse chuckle that rumbles straight to your core. Slowly, he moves down to your slit, alternating long licks along the length of your pussy with firm suction on your clit. Your body thrums beneath his ministrations, your legs beginning to tremble, and Jungkook doubly renews his efforts when your thighs clench a little tighter around his head. His wet, hot mouth returns to your clit in full force, and you keen out his name when a finger slips into your cunt and curls up in search of the spot that’s sure to unravel you completely.
Said man releases your clit for a split second to coo your name, his hot breath washing against your slick folds. “Come on, baby,” he rasps. “Wanna make you cum. Wanna taste you, so bad.”
And with that, he eases a second finger in with the first. His lips wrap around your clit again, mouthing at it in time with the steady cadence of his fingers, and your breath grows ragged when he finally finds the soft spot he’s been looking for. He focuses his full attention on it, digging deep until you’re quaking, and you gasp again.
“Jungkook, I’m—! Fuck—”
One last swirl of his tongue around your clit proves to be your undoing. You shake apart in his ironclad embrace, your walls clenching around his fingers, and he continues lapping at you even as your vision goes white with pleasure. By the time you come back down from your high, a second wave is already brewing in your belly, coiling tighter and tighter as Jungkook tirelessly sucks your clit back into his mouth.
Your second orgasm is stronger than the first—breaking like a wave and spreading to every vein in your body like wildfire. Jungkook helps you through it, whispering sweet words of praise into the skin of your inner thigh and petting slow, sure circles around your sensitive nub until you fall limp in his arms.
“Good?” he chuckles.
“Good,” you breathe back. “So good, Jungkook. Fuck.”
In any other situation, you’d be tempted to slap the self-satisfied grin off his face, but you decide he’s deserved it in this case. The growing strain in the crotch of his jeans tells you that he deserves something else too, and you sit up slowly, still feeling rather boneless. Jungkook watches raptly as you reach for the button of his jeans and pop it open, swallowing harshly when you brush against his clothed erection. Gently, his hands settle over yours, helping you push his jeans off his hips so he can kick them off entirely, and your mouth goes dry when the entirety of his deliciously thick cock is revealed, bobbing insistently against his lower stomach.
Ever so slowly, Jungkook presses you down into the mattress, your back against the pillows piled along the headboard of your bed. His gaze meets yours as he settles between your legs once more, and you find that you can’t look away as he takes his cock in his tattooed hand and slides the head through the slick gathered in your slit, spreading it up and down the length of your pussy. “Okay?” he whispers, soft as a feather.
“Okay,” you murmur. “Jungkook, please.”
He obliges. Slowly, he rocks forward, the thick head of his cock parting your walls, and your mouth falls open at the sheer size of him. The glide is made easier by the considerable slick from your previous orgasms, but there’s still the slightest pinch of discomfort as he pauses and leans down to press a fond kiss to the soft spot at your collarbone. “Breathe, baby,” he encourages lowly, and you do as he says, sucking in a lungful of air and willing your body to relax.
Little by little, the discomfort ebbs away, replaced by a throbbing ache for more. Your hips rock, another inch of his cock slipping into you, and Jungkook takes it as a sign to continue pressing forward until he’s seated inside your body. The surge of fullness knocks all the air out of your lungs and leaves you floating and breathless, your fingers scrabbling along his back for something to hold onto as you try to find solid ground again. Jungkook waits patiently, nosing along your neck and trailing kisses up your throat, and you sigh when his mouth slants across yours at last. Your lips part to receive him, and he licks into your mouth until you’re arching off the mattress, your curves meshing with his lines.
Nimble fingers drop down to your clit then, tracing slow circles around the sensitive nub. Your hips jolt, the motion unintentionally sending him deeper, and the pleasure that flares in your tummy tears a sharp moan from your throat. Deliberately, you rock against him, encouraging him to move, and Jungkook obliges with a hoarse grunt, his chest heaving as he pulls back until only the head of his cock remains nestled within your walls. His thumb finds your clit again, and you keen out his name when he surges forward at the same time he flicks across the sensitive bundle and sets all your nerves aflame.
Jungkook sets a slow, deliberate pace—one that has you clutching at the broad expanse of his back and gasping when he repeatedly hits the spot that has you seeing stars. The coil in your belly tightens with every thrust, the slick glide of his cock igniting your body and sending electricity dancing along your skin. A particularly hard rock of his hips sends you sliding backward on the mattress, and Jungkook grits out a groan when the motion jiggles the swell of your breasts. Leaning down, he catches a pebbled nipple in his mouth, and your back arches as he lavishes the nub with attention, desperately seeking out more contact.
When Jungkook’s thumb digs into your clit again, it proves to be too much. The sudden burst of pressure is accompanied by a harsh thrust that you practically feel in the back of your throat, and the combination sends you hurtling over the edge of your third orgasm of the night, wave after wave of white hot pleasure searing through your veins. Jungkook’s rhythm stutters as you clench wildly around him, and your name escapes him a hoarse groan as he follows you off the precipice, creamy warmth flooding your walls.
It takes a few long moments for the pleasure to recede, your breath slowing gradually and your eyes blinking open. Jungkook’s grin is wide, a chuckle escaping him as he wipes at the wetness slicking his bare chest, and your muddled brain wonders at the motion before the realization dawns, the horror following soon after.
“Oh my god.” You scramble back, your cheeks aflame, his softened cock slipping out from inside you as you bury your face in your hands. “I can’t believe I just—I mean, that’s never happened—”
Jungkook pulls your hands away and twines his fingers with yours, nosing at your neck until you finally work up the nerve to look at him. “Are you joking?” he asks. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.”
You bury your face into the crook of his tattooed shoulder instead, shielding yourself in the inky petals and leaves. “It’s embarrassing, though.”
“No, it’s hot as fuck,” Jungkook corrects, his arms winding around your waist and pulling you close. “So why don’t we see if I can make you do it again?”
The sun has only just risen when you stir awake the next morning, roused by something that you can’t quite place. There’s a stifling warmth pressed against your back and a strong arm banded around your waist, and you can’t help but smile as you turn around in the embrace, coming face to face with your dark-haired roommate.
Jungkook is beautiful in this light—his hair like spilled ink against the cream of your pillows, the exposed skin of his neck and shoulders warm and golden. You can just barely make out the beginnings of his tattoos swirling along his right shoulder—a field of flowers curling up around the line of his collarbones. Gently, you reach out to run a fingertip along a delicately inked lily, tracing each petal.
When you pull back, Jungkook’s eyes are open, a slow smile curving across his face. “Hi,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse with sleep.
You smile back. “Hi.”
Beneath the covers, his arm tightens around your waist, his fingers tapping out a silent melody along the slats of your ribcage. “Sleep well?”
“Best night of sleep I’ve had in ages,” you admit, laughing. “You?”
“Honestly? Same.”
Yawning, Jungkook stretches his arms overhead and cranes around to grab his phone off the nightstand. Blearily, he wakes the screen and scans his notifications, his eyes narrowing as he zeroes in on one in particular. “Looks like our friend kimdaily’s back at it,” he says. “Have you seen?”
“No, I haven’t.” You shift a little closer to him and lay your head on his shoulder, relishing the way his arm immediately comes up to secure you in an embrace. “I turned off those notifications days ago.”
Jungkook’s answering grin is bright enough to rival the sun. Turning, he drops his phone back onto the nightstand before tugging you close and brushing a stray hair from your cheek. “So what now?” he asks. “Should we start thinking about breakfast?”
You lean in and press a long, lingering kiss to his mouth, your fingers already beginning to trail down past the ridges of his abdomen.
“Nah. Breakfast can wait.”
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v-hope · 5 days ago
“it's 2am. your lover is still playing video games in the living room, so you grab your pillow, settling yourself in between your lover's thighs as you watch them play, and soon enough, you're asleep again” with 🌺 jk pretty please??
Turning over to find nothing next to you in bed, where every single night your long term boyfriend would be, you whined — eyes heavily opening and adjusting to the darkness of the room as you heard a muffled sound coming from the living room.
Looking at the hour on your nightstand’s clock displaying the numbers 2:00, you sighed. Although it was no surprise for Jeongguk to be up at 2am on a Friday night, you were not happy over the fact that he was awake in the living room and not in bed with you, maybe watching a movie or trying to hold back eventual giggles as he watched funny videos on his phone as you soundly slept beside him.
Not giving it a second thought, you removed the covers from your body and grabbed your pillow, holding it tightly against your chest as you made your way over to the living room. Even though the only light in the room came from the TV, it wasn’t hard to find Jeongguk right in front of it, with a blanket covering his legs while he sat on the couch next to a fast asleep pupper — Tigger being just like you when it came to cherishing your sleep.
Standing by the entrance and staring at the PS controller in his hands, your eyes instinctively travelled to the TV, not being able to keep them from rolling in amusement. Of course he was still trying to pass the one stage he had been stuck in for a few days now.
Now, after three years of being together, you knew well enough you would not convince him to go back to bed until he was ready to let the game go. No matter how many times he nodded and hummed to let you know he was listening to you, he would always end up being too invested to actually go to sleep like you told him to.
So, not even trying anymore, you went up to him.
Jeongguk smiled as soon as he was aware of your presence — not a word coming out of his mouth, yet pausing his game and holding the blanket on his lap up for you to get in with him. Doing as he had silently motioned for you to, you sat down between his legs, resting your back on his chest, and smiling contentedly when he tucked you in with him and pressed a small kiss to the crown of your head, before his arms rested around you so he could keep playing.
“Are you winning?” you asked, eyes already closed yet still being nosy as you were.
“Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?” he answered with another question.
You smiled tauntingly. “Do I take that as a no?”
This time, a quite loud giggle escaped your lips, after hearing a small, whiny ‘aish’ coming from your boyfriend’s lips.
Opening your eyes and staring up to him, you reached up to plant a sweet kiss to the spot under his jaw. “I’ll have you know I only date winners, bun”.
“Yeah… Not sure about that, petal”.
Jaw hanging open at his passive aggressive comment towards your asshole of an ex, who was hardly ever brought up anymore, you gave him a light shove — one that had him both laughing lightly and calling you out on almost making him lose.
“Well, I’ll have you know I only intend to date winners from now on” you corrected your previous statement.
Jeongguk smiled at that, eyes still fixed on the video game in front. “I thought you only intended to date me from now on? Considering we’ve already made our life together?”
“Mhm…” you pressed a kiss to the crook of his neck. “Like I said, a winner”.
Your words earned a snort from him, shaking his head in amusement.
“Give me a few more hours and I’ll be just that”.
You whined, throwing your head back on his shoulder and hugging your pillow tighter to your chest. “It’s already two in the morning”.
“Exactly,” he nodded. “There’s a whole night to go”.
“But I’m tired” you pouted.
“Then close your eyes, baby”.
Huffing at his smartass answer, you ended up doing as told, letting go of your pillow and turning slightly towards him, so you could nuzzle his neck and place your arms around his waist.
“I will change the Play Station to our bedroom so you have no choice but to stay next to me while I sleep”.
Jeongguk chuckled silently at your supposedly threatening words, causing a smile to curve up the corners of your mouth over the way his chest trembled because of that.
“I tend to curse and whine a lot, though” he pointed out what you already knew — if anything, he was trying his hardest not to do any of those things right then, so you could have a good sleep. “You won’t mind?”
You shook your head no, a tired yawn coming out of your mouth as you inevitably began to drift off to sleep. “As long as I get to sleep with you…” your shoulders moved up in a faint shrug. “Plus, you won’t have me coming here being all clingy and keeping you from moving while I lie on top of you like I am now”.
He smiled wholeheartedly, pausing his game for a moment when he felt your body relax on his when you finally entered your dream, as if you had not been bickering with him only ten seconds ago.
Resting his back down lower against the couch so you could lie down more comfortably on his chest, he adjusted his arm over you so you wouldn’t slide down, later removing a strand of hair from off your closed eyes and lovingly staring at your sleeping face for a few seconds; not being able to hold himself back from pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before he could resume his game.
“I don’t mind this at all”.
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jungkxook · 4 months ago
—sweeter than sugar. (m)
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⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader 
⟶ genre: ceo!jungkook / sugar daddy au + fluff / smut 
⟶ words: 22,258 oops
⟶ rating: 18+ 
⟶ summary: when infamous playboy jeon jungkook comes to you with a proposition that you know you should say no to, you can’t. because all you really know is that being spoiled has never felt so sweet before
⟶ warnings: lot’s of brand name dropping bc jungkook stays spoiling you!!, sprinkle of angst, unprotected sex, dry humping, grinding, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, face riding, handjob, standing sex, window sex?, riding, creampie
⟶ note: this is a repost of a fic from my old blog, just in case it looks familiar to anyone!
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You have come to find that when rich men and women are drunk enough, they will talk.
Naturally, living in the metropolis that is New York City with its crowded population of millions, you are bound to come across certain interesting people. Yet none have seemingly compared to your experiences with the social elite and upper class businessmen and women of the city. For there, nestled perfectly in the hub of the mayhem and money that is the Financial District of Lower Manhattan in a bar lounge you work at, you learn much about the inner workings and the dramatic gossip of some of the wealthiest people in the city. Stripped down to nothing but self-indulgent humans enjoying their happy hours after a day of work and incredibly drunk off of Cabernet Sauvignon red wine and smooth Louis XIII cognac and martini cocktails, they will talk. They will talk about important business deals, murmur about the hushed world of embezzlers, boast about their latest luxurious purchase, whisper about affairs, and mock fellow friends or business partners.
Of course you listen. You always listen. To you, these people are a whole other species ━ so distant from yourself yet so fascinating. It’s not as if they care about your eavesdropping either, for they do not so much as grace you with a second glance, even when you present them with their drink. Perhaps that’s for the best. After all, you’re certain you’ll never be able to understand them. It’s not as if you like them either. But there is one person in particular who becomes quite the talk of the wealthy entrepreneurs and tycoons that occupy the lounge; the same one person who catches your attention over the many nights of your shifts and you think him to be, perhaps, even more fascinating than his fellow snobby folk.
Jungkook, made of diamonds and gold, is a person you find hard to avoid.
Tabloids and whispers of the eminent young man make him known to you far before you even lay eyes on him and all you know is that he is built upon old money and glory. He is infamous, it appears from the ostentatious words that pluck him from the ordinary and hangs him high above in the endless sky, born into a world where he is lucky enough to be graced with not only the wealth but the handsome features too. You still aren’t quite sure you understand what exactly he does for a living, though you learn over time he’s inherited his father’s company of investment banking at the ripe age of 23 after his father’s retirement. Really, all that seems to pique your interest is the simple fact that he wears clothes that cost the same amount as your college tuition, if not more, whilst you are drowning in obstinate debt. It is a life he will never know, much like his life is one you will never know.
Though many attempt to degrade him as being a spoiled rich kid with a pretty face who doesn’t deserve his father’s company, you can hardly find an inkling of hatred in your bones for the boy. Instead, you find blatant envy laced in every nerve, despite still struggling internally to be thankful for the dismal life you live from a day-to-day basis. It is only on days when the universe itself decides to take it’s annoyance out on you in mundane mishaps that makes you entirely jealous of men and women at the lounge. Of the eminent man that is Jungkook.
As a college student in your final year, the looming fact of paying your tuition debt, amongst other necessities and living expenses, dangles over your head in a foreboding dark cloud. It isn’t the idea that you struggle to barely make ends meet, or yet another heated conversation you have with your landlord only a week prior, begging him to wait until you get paid to give him your rent, or the fact that you work two part-time jobs aside from attending class in an attempt to make enough money to live that makes you break down on one particular Saturday morning. It is when you return from your first job of working an eight hour shift at the café around the corner from where you live, climb the five flights of stairs to your floor after you find that the elevator isn’t working, only to scan through your daily mail of bills and taxes to find an envelope containing a letter with big, bolded words screaming at you EVICTION NOTICE, akin to two middle fingers raised high in the air for you.
That is when the severity of your situation seems to hit you because you suddenly become aware in an entirely pessimistic shame that you have failed. Failed to make ends meet and failed to make your dull routine work of running from one job to the next and attending classes. You skim the contents of the notice rather quickly, your mind stuck somewhere between terror of living on the streets and rushing to get ready for your second shift of the night, but your nervous eyes are able to catch a glimpse of the three week deadline your landlord gives you in order to either return to him the lost rent you are owing to stay or to pack your belongings and leave. You hardly have time to read the rest or devise a plan in order to save your ass as you crumple the paper in anger and toss it on your bed before moving to prepare yourself for work.
The second job you work is at the lounge. It’s popularity amongst the urbanites makes sure that you find little to no time to rest as you are running back and forth from behind the counter to customers serving drinks and other appetizers. It’s a newer job you work, having only been there for six months, but at the four month mark is when he starts showing up, as if the universe further wanted to laugh in your face and taunt that there are people who never have to work hard to simply live.
In the short time span of two months that you see him at the lounge, you never once utter a word to him as your boss makes certain that he personally tends to Jungkook and his friends in an attempt to please the rich boy. However, you admire him from afar anyway, taking note in his appearances and manners. He is always well dressed from head to toe in perfectly tailored and fitting Giorgio Armani suits. His dress shirts are usually either pure cotton or some sort of silky lavish material and a watch and rings are accessories he always seems to wear. He is generous, however, and orders the most expensive drinks for he and his friends and is the one to make sure they find a ride home but you discover he must naturally be a bit of a lush because he is always stumbling out of the lounge well into the night and blissfully inebriated, usually with a girl wrapped around his finger and fawning over him drunkenly. He is, quite obviously, a sybarite, a playboy, but a kind one at that ━ or perhaps that is just a facade.
You do not see him at first when you begin your shift that night, but he seems to make an appearance at the most terrible of times. It is just as you’re finally clocking out for your break and take a step outside next to the building for a breath of air, further off from the other customers of the lounge who like to sit on the patio with a burning cigarette limply dangling from fingertips or the finest of cigars, when you find your boss, Namjoon, joining your side to tell you something you aren’t at all prepared to hear.
“Y/N, I actually wanted to talk to you,” he starts, his tone casual. The night is cool despite being mid-spring, and a breeze ruffles his dark hair and sends a chill down your spine.
“Am I in trouble?” You ask, and though it is supposed to be a joke, you can’t help but fear for a moment about whether you might actually be.
“Oh, no, nothing like that,” he says with a lighthearted chuckle. “No, no. It’s just that━ Well, you see━ You’re most certainly one of our best employees here but, that being said, I think━ Ahem, simply put, with all the new hires we got recently and all their training, we unfortunately are going to have to start pulling your hours.”
His words don’t seem to register in your mind at first and you look at him curiously, dumbfounded. “You what?”
“From now on, we only need you to work ten hours a week here,” he says. “Just for the time being━”
“You’re cutting back on my hours?” You ask abruptly. “Why me?”
“If it makes you feel any better, you aren’t the only one this is happening to,” he replies. “It’s a really shitty thing to do, I know, but we have no other choice.”
Finally, what he says seems to sink in and your eyes widen in disbelief. You push yourself off the wall you are leaning against and round on him instantly. “No, no, you can’t! Please! I need those extra hours and the money━ Look, I just got the news today that I might be kicked out of my apartment in less than a month and I still need to pay back my school tuition. I can’t afford to━”
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Namjoon says, entirely in a dismissive manner that has you coming to a complete halt and making you feel absolutely foolish. “But there’s nothing I can do right now━ Ah! If it isn’t the man himself! Jungkook! Glad to see you could make it. Excuse me, doll━”
Your boss moves quickly, parting from you with a final pat on your shoulder as if to poorly console you before shifting his attention over to the newcomer, to Jungkook. You’re seething with absolute rage that boils in the pit of your stomach and the tips of your fingers, your mouth hanging opened in an appalled gap, as you whirl around only to have your eyes settle upon your boss devoting all his attention to Jungkook and the friend by his side who is digging through his pockets for a cigarette atop the patio just behind you. You are left entirely forgotten and bristling with anger that you find hard to keep under control as you gawk at your boss before realizing that Jungkook is staring at you.
His dark chocolate pupils peer at you under the shimmering moonlight, reflecting something soft and pensive, but what exactly he is thinking, you can’t surely make out. It catches you off guard and has you clamping your mouth shut as if to showcase some sort of proper etiquette around the prestige boy, a blush warming your cheeks, because why is he looking at you? He’s never taken the time to so much as glance your way with any sort of interest ━ or so you thought ━ and yet here he is, his intimidating eyes piercing yours and making you shift uncomfortably in your spot. You don’t bother to linger any longer after that.
As soon as his friend is calling for his attention, and Jungkook turns to avert his gaze to the conversation that is happening without him, you round on your heel and briskly walk back into the lounge, your mind in a haze of embarrassed confusion and anger.
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Your awkward encounter with Jungkook is quick to slip your mind as soon as you are hurled back into the persistent problems of your life.
The next few days elapse into one another in a useless blur as you try to beg your boss at your first job to allow you more shifts, while simultaneously trying to discover what you will do and who you can live with if you are evicted. Moving back in with your parents seems the most practical but least favourable when they live too far away from your jobs and school. You’re considering asking a close friend if you can live with them for a few weeks when the universe seems to present itself to you one more time, but in a way to redeem itself.
It happens on that Wednesday, only a few days after receiving the eviction notice. You return to your job at the lounge that night for a rather usually dull shift as not many people seem to come out on a night that is in the middle of the week. It’s slow, as you expect, and you try to spend the time by cleaning the bar counter, cleaning the shelves that the bottles of liquor stand on, cleaning glasses, and repeating the process again and again, but even that becomes tedious after a while. The lounge itself isn’t typically a place of gathering for just anybody with it’s all glass panes, dark interior, and lights of hues of purple and blue to help with the ambiance, modern furniture, and smooth jazz music to tie it all perfectly together. It’s nearing 7pm when the door swings open but you hardly pay much attention as you’re uselessly wiping the counter and fretting over the notice. When you hear the sound of someone clearing their throat from behind you, you spin around and come face-to-face with none other than Jungkook.
An involuntary gasp slips past your parted lips before you can swallow it back and your hands quickly abandon the rag you’re holding to nervously smooth down your hair and clothes.
“Hi there,” he smiles and, when he does, it is something daunting and mischievous.
He’s abandoned his usual Armani attire for something a little more casual though even your untrained eye can sense that the clothes he wears still costs much more than what you earn in a day. A Saint Laurent bomber jacket, a Rolex watch, Louis Vuitton dress shoes. His blonde locks are parted ever so slightly off to the side and, as he moves to certain angles under the dim lights of the lounge, you catch sight of the tattoos that cover his arm and are mostly always covered up. Up close, you can see features on his face that you would have otherwise misplaced, like the dainty point of his nose or the piercings on his ears or just how big his eyes truly are, giving him a more youthful appearance even though he is not much older than you as it is. You’re so mesmerized and too busy studying his dazzling attire to notice the fact that he speaks to you that it takes you a moment to respond.
“O━Oh, um, hi,” You force a smile on your face that is visibly so. You gulp back your nerves and straighten up, fighting for your voice. “What can I get you?”
“Just water is fine, actually,” he says and, goodness, why was his voice so smooth and luxurious?
You quirk a brow, the question tumbling from you before you can stop it. “You’re telling me that you came all the way down here for a glass of water that you can easily get at your home?”
Your mouth quickly snaps shut, as you’re suddenly fearful of having said something wrong, but the boy in front of you only chuckles and shrugs sheepishly.
“Ah, well, it’s a Wednesday night and I do have to work tomorrow,” he says.
He’s still smiling as he watches you and the sight has you nervous once more. To avoid his intense stare, you move to gather him a glass of water. It’s silent as you do so, the only sound coming from the other chatter of customers and the music that plays in the foreground. When you slide his drink over to him, his smile widens and he nods.
You nod timidly and try to distract yourself by cleaning once more. Not even before you can turn fully away from him, he’s speaking again.
“So, you know of me, huh?” he asks and then stops himself. “Sorry, that sounded very conceited of me. I’m just━ I don’t know. Surprised.”
“You’re quite the talk of the city,” You point out in a matter-of-fact tone and giggle. “It’s hard to not know who you are.”
Jungkook licks his lips and smiles almost bashfully. The sight seems so rare that it has you staring at him in wonder. His eyes flicked up to look at you past his long lashes and then he lifts his chin to properly face you. “Then who do I have the fortune of speaking to tonight?”
“Y/N,” You introduce, holding out a hand for him. “It’s most certainly a pleasure to meet you properly, sir.”
The boy takes your hand in his, his skin smooth and delicate, and then he does something you do not expect at all. He turns your palm over so that the back of your hand is facing him and he presses a small kiss to your knuckles that leaves tingles running down your spine.
“The pleasure’s all mine,” he says.
You must be entirely gawking at him again as he lets go of your hand because he laughs and straightens up in his seat, taking a sip of his water.
“I actually wanted to talk to you,” he says.
“M━Me?” You ask, still stunned. “Did you want to speak with Namjoon? He isn’t in right now but I can leave a note for you, if you want━”
“Oh, no, that won’t be necessary,” he replies, gently turning down your suggestion. “No, you were just the person I was hoping to find tonight.”
“Oh, really?” You question and Jungkook nods. “Then what can I do for you?”
The smile on his face shifts into a smirk and he pauses to take another sip of his water, leaving you in hanging anticipation. He sets his glass down and props his elbows up on the counter, leaning forward.
“I’ve come to offer you a proposition,” he says.
“A proposition?” You echo.
“Mhm, and it’s one I hope you don’t turn down,” he continues. “See, the other night on Saturday, I couldn’t help but overhear you talking to your boss about your shifts, or lack thereof, and━”
“You heard that?” You gasp, dismayed. “You were eavesdropping?”
“Not exactly,” Jungkook says. “I just so happened to stumble outside just as you were complaining.”
You eye him warily, folding your arms over your chest. “Okay, go on.”
“Well,” Jungkook begins, “I’m here to offer you a job but, I must warn you, it’s a very different kind of job.”
His words seem to intrigue you as you absentmindedly take a step closer to him, lowering your head to listen closely. You don’t reply back but, judging by the interested look on your face, Jungkook casually carries on. He locks gazes with you then, a hard unbreakable gaze that has you looking only at him as he utters his next few words.
“There’s no easy way to explain this that won’t make it seem indecent, but I can assure you that my intentions are pure,” he admits. “Have you ever heard of the term sugar baby?”
As soon as you hear the last of his words, you push yourself up and begin shaking your head furiously. “You want me to be your sugar baby?” You ask. The incredulous question has a blush pinching at your cheeks. “Are you nuts? I’m not that kind of girl. I’m not going to sleep with you even if you pay me━”
“Hear me out,” he says calmly and, for some odd reason, you pause. Your eyes narrow into a scrutinizing glare as you stare him down.
“Fine,” You say stiffly. “Keep talking.”
“It’s a crazy idea, I know,” he says. “And, sure, typically sugar babies are used for sex but I would never force myself on you or force you to do anything you wouldn’t want to. That’s a promise I’ll never break. I just figured that we can keep the companionship aspect of the whole thing and that’s it. Nothing more than having a person by my side.”
“I’m sure you can find plenty of girls to take that role,” You muse aloud.
“Sure,” he admits sheepishly, “but I’m asking you because I want you to be the one and because I know you need this money more than anyone else.”
You fall silent as you study him. He pulls out his phone then and begins to scroll through it almost too nonchalantly but you don’t necessarily mind. You are much too busy pondering his offer.
“But you don’t even know me,” You say at last.
“Also true,” he says, glancing up at you. “I guess you could say that’s another part of the reason why I’m asking you because I wouldn’t mind getting to know you. I mean, I see you all the time at this bar. I would have loved to come up and talk to you at any given moment but you always seemed so caught up in your work. Now I know why.”
Another silence ensues and he watches as you bite nervously on your lower lip. You rake a hand through your hair and sigh.
“How about this?” he asks, shifting in his seat to sit up straighter. “We try it out at least once to test the waters for an upcoming event where you’re my date. If you like it and want to keep going, great. If you absolutely hate it and hate me, then you can forget all about me and that I ever asked you this and I’ll leave you alone. Deal?”
“How do I know you’re not planning my murder?”
Jungkook smirks wolfishly. “That would be bad for business, love, and neither me nor my company needs that sort of attention in the press. So… What do you say?”
“I don’t know. It’s just… a lot. I have to think about it.”
Jungkook nods. “That’s understandable. Here━”
He shifts in his seat and pulls his wallet from his jeans. With a flourish, he procures a business card and slides it onto the table. Then, he gestures for a pen and, once you hand him the one you fish out from the apron tied around your waist, he scribbles his own personal number down on the back. He looks up at you with an ever so pretty smile, his eyes twinkling.
“Call me on this number whenever you decide.”
He doesn’t stay much longer after that. When he does leave, he makes sure to leave you a tip. A considerable sum of $500 in the form of a cheque. He’s long gone by the time you register the amount on the slip of paper and your name scribbled down. When the shock is gone, you tell yourself you can’t possibly take the cheque. But he knows that either way, whether you accept the cheque and his offer or try to return the money to him, you’ll call him one way or another. You realize this only on your way home from the lounge and shake your head at his conniving way. If there was one thing you have learnt during your time at the lounge, rich men always get what they want.
You aren’t entirely too sure what makes you cave. Maybe it’s the fact that, when you return home and are greeted to the looming notice papers, you are reminded that you so desperately need the money, or the fact that Jungkook is as charming and attractive as people say. Maybe it is the fact that he is quite obviously devoting his time and attention on solely you. Perhaps once won’t hurt after all. Then, if he stays true to his word and pays you handsomely, just enough for your rent, you never have to see him again. So the next morning, after a great deal of pensive pacing around your apartment, it is with one final hefty sigh that you call Jungkook. He answers on the third ring with a cordial, “Hello?”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this but fine. You have yourself a deal.”
Even without seeing his face, you can hear the smile in his voice, can see the way it must be tugging at his pink lips. “Ah, Y/N! Great!”
“What do you need me to do exactly?”
“Well, first thing’s first,” he says. “We need to set up some ground rules. First, I won’t try anything on you that you won’t like. Second, since this is technically still a job ━ and I know it’s going to sound ridiculous but stay with me ━ we need to be cautious about gaining romantic feelings for one another. It’ll just get in the way of everything, okay?”
“Okay. Whatever you say.”
“Good,” he says. “Then let’s jump right to it: I need you to be my date at this business dinner party that’s coming up. The logistics of the dinner party bore me. I know as much about it as you do, if I’m honest, but everyone ━ mostly my father ━ thinks it’ll be a good idea to bring a proper date. As if that’ll leave a good impression on these people we’re trying to win over. We’ll see about that.”
“When is it?” You ask.
“Three days from now.”
“As in Paris, France?”
Jungkook hums in agreement a little too calmly for your liking. Your jaw drops open in surprise and you begin to sputter for air, stammering over your words.
“Jungkook,” You say his name sternly, laughing at just how ridiculous this request is. “This whole thing started because I have no money. I’m getting kicked out of my apartment ━ or did you miss that? What makes you think I have the money for a ticket to Paris?”
Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to bursts out into boisterous laughter, and he continues to laugh and laugh as if this is the funniest thing he has heard yet. You are left staring blankly at your wall, completely frazzled and stunned.
“God, you’re cute,” he sighs at long last. “Baby girl, I don’t think you quite understand the concept of this but that’s okay. We can work on it. Here, look. Check your phone━”
As he says this, your phone chimes pleasantly to notify you of a new message. Pulling your phone away from your face, you see a new text from Jungkook’s number: a screenshot of an email of a bank purchase, one that he confirms out loud with his confident words even when you feel your hands shaking in overwhelming anticipation.
“I already bought you a ticket as we were speaking,” he says. “We leave Friday.”
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The concept is entirely too hard to wrap your mind around, even after you sleep on it.
It’s like a dream come true, a fairy tale that people can only ever hope for, and it had fallen so perfectly into your very lap in the form of Jungkook. You pack the next night for Paris (which will only be a two day trip, according to Jungkook), the excitement and nerves finally kicking in and making you jittery and grin from ear-to-ear as you rummage around your apartment. He picks you up early the next morning in a chauffeured BMW before you’re both driven to the airport to fly in two first class seats to Paris. The whole thing is ludicrous but you can’t seem to get enough ━ even with the way he seems to act like a total gentleman by holding the car door open for you and holding your hand as he helps you onto the plane. From what you gather, he is kind and gentle and spends the time talking to you on the long flight to Paris in an attempt to help soothe your nerves when he sees you toying anxiously with your hands. You learn about his father and his company and he learns about your family and school life.
When you arrive in Paris, the streets are suddenly dazzling with a magic you have never seen before. From the architecture to the gardens to the grand tower in the distance, everything seems like a whimsical dream and you, the poor undeserving spectator, can’t possibly contain your excitement. In the chauffeured drive to your hotel, Jungkook watches you with amused eyes and chuckles under his breath when you gawk out the window at the passing city. Your accommodations for the getaway have already been paid for and includes a stay at the Four Seasons Hotel. It is simply marvelous, a palace sculpted so divinely out of white stone and marble in the lobby. The people are friendly, both the employees and other occupants, greeting you with warm smiles and generous gestures, but the atmospheric prestige is slightly nerve-wrecking.
Jungkook pays for your room which is the luxurious Royal Suite, a room much larger than you truly need but, god, do you love it. There’s a spacious living room, a foyer, a marble fireplace and a dining table, the master bedroom accompanied by an all marble bathroom, and private terrace with a view of the surrounding city and the Eiffel tower in the near distance, so close it feels as if you can reach out and touch it. Everything is adorned in gold and ivory furnishing, white plush cushions and bedding with teal accents, white flowers and exceptional pieces of decorations. Jungkook is still with you when he guides you into the suite but he doesn’t speak and nor do you. Instead, he watches as you stare in awe at the overwhelmingly large room and the lavish paintings and furniture that are placed perfectly around, and the platter of macaroons and a bottle of Dom Perignon champagne in an ice bucket atop the glass coffee table. He watches even as you throw yourself to the terrace door, beaming outside at the beautiful view.
“Like it?” he asks, his lips curling upward faintly in an amused smile.
“Like it?” You repeat, astonished. You turn to face him and can’t contain the squeal that bubbles at your lips. You fling yourself down onto the plush sofa nearest you and sigh dreamily as you look up at the boy who is suppressing his chuckles. “I’m in love, Jungkook. I definitely don’t deserve this━”
“Don’t say that,” Jungkook frowns, interrupting you quickly. “Of course you deserve this. I’m glad you’re enjoying it so far. That’s what I want to hear.”
You push yourself up to sit on the couch and cross your legs beneath you. You gaze up at Jungkook, gnawing nervously on your lower lip. “I just feel like you could have found a better person to replace me. I mean, I don’t even know where to start with repaying you.”
“There’s no need to repay me,” Jungkook says. “That’s the whole point of this ordeal. All I want from you is to be my side when I need you. You owe no debt to me. Just keep enjoying yourself, yeah?”
You nod timidly and he smiles. He notices you shift in your seat to stand up once more and he swiftly holds out his hand for you in an ever gentleman-like way. You take it graciously and pull yourself up and then he does it again, lifting your twined hands to his lips to press a tender kiss to your knuckles. He keeps his lips pressed to your skin for a second too long and it has you blushing madly before he finally releases your hand once more.
“It’s late,” he says. “You should get some rest. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Set an early alarm, okay? I have something else for you that I want to show you before the dinner party.”
“Sounds like a plan,” You hum almost absentmindedly as your attention is suddenly averted back to the room that you can’t seem to get enough of.
“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he smiles.
He begins retreating back to the door of the room but stops when he hears you call his name, your voice so distant and faint, soft and gentle and loving, that it makes his heart skip a beat.
“Thank you for everything so far, Jungkook.”
Jungkook notices the irreplaceable smile on your face and it’s so genuine and heartwarming that it has the exact same smile mirroring on his face. He nods once more, understanding, before giving you a sly wink and walking out the door. You don’t stay awake much longer after that, the jitters and excitement eventually soothing into something soft that lulls you to sleep
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You aren’t entirely sure what Jungkook has planned for the next morning but you are most definitely not disappointed.
He comes by your room around 10:00 am, a light rap of his knuckles against the door signalling his arrival. He’s dressed casual today and it, for once during the duration of the time that you’ve been with him, doesn’t make you feel bad for wearing just as casual clothing. He takes you to a café just down the street from the hotel for breakfast and then he walks with you through the streets of Paris, past all the people and hectic life. When you finally arrive at your destination, your jaw drops open in complete unregistered shock because you realize he’s taking you shopping ━ and shopping not just anywhere but the Champs-Élysées and down Avenue Montaigne where all the leading couture designers are. He pulls you into a certain shop with designer and brand name formal wear, dresses and suits of all sorts of materials and lengths lining the walls, shelves, and dressing mannequins.
“I figured we could go shopping for something for you to wear tonight,” he says. “It’s your pick. See anything that catches your attention?”
You snort a bit ungracefully, your fingers running over the silky material of a scarlet red Valentino dress decorating a mannequin near you.
“Yeah, all of it,” You say, your fingers plucking the price tag of the dress and gawking at it. “But not for that price. I’d have to take out another loan from the bank if I’d want to buy this and I’m still paying off my tuition fees.”
Jungkook laughs lightly at your dry remarks and places his hand on the small of your back with such ease that it catches you by surprise.
“Baby girl,” he hums, and the small pet name is enough to make your heart flutter, “I’m buying it for you. Go ahead. Run wild in here. We can get a consultant to help you if you want.”
“I’m going to need more than a consultant to deal with all this,” You say. “It’s making my head spin. If I’m dreaming, please don’t pinch me.”
He smirks, giving you a shake of his head. “I can assure you that you aren’t dreaming. Go on. If you see anything you like, don’t be afraid to tell me. Today is all about you.”
And Jungkook doesn’t lie. Though it feels so wrong to be so spoiled and pampered, you find yourself basking in all of it ━ from the way Jungkook follows behind you as you study every piece of clothing and waits patiently as you try on dress after dress, to the way the employees that work there fawn over your body and the way you model the dress “just perfectly,” to the way they serve you bubbling champagne in crystal flute glasses. It’s all about you, and it’s never felt so good.
It doesn’t stop there. Jungkook takes you to shop after shop, boutique after boutique, until you find a dress that you take quite a liking to. It’s a floor length Alberta Ferretti velvet midnight blue, almost black, gown, the seams of which hugging your body and curves in all the right places. It’s a slightly off-the-shoulder dress, with a heart-shaped scoop neckline and a slit on one side of the dress that runs far up the smooth expanse of your leg to end mid-thigh. It’s the dress you pick because it’s the only dress that seems to garner such a unique reaction from Jungkook. It’s one where he forgets his words momentarily, gazing at you as if you were made of pure gold, because, holy shit, he’s never seen anything so beautiful before. He can’t speak whilst you model the dress for him and the consultant, twirling around and around in front of the mirrors to admire your own figure, because he doesn’t want to miss a single thing about just how gorgeous you look in it.
He doesn’t tell you but, when you decide on that dress, he couldn’t have been any happier.
Even after finding the dress, Jungkook still continues to take you shopping, promising to buy you any other article of clothing or piece of jewelry that catches your attention, though you try to tame your desires as you begin to feel a bit too spoiled. Jungkook doesn’t mind, of course. He never seems to mind. Eventually, after he takes you back to the hotel with all black Christian Louboutin ankle strap heels and a glittering Tiffany necklace and earrings for the dress, he leaves you alone to get ready for the dinner. When he meets you once more at your suite, it is later in the evening and the sun outside has just begun to set. He enters your room looking as if he has just walked out from a Renaissance painting or was sculpted by the Grecians himself in marble stone because of just how divine he looks. He’s adorned in yet another Armani suit, a dark charcoal that is almost ebony black, and his hair is combed and parted neatly to the side. There’s no need to even look at him to know he is already handsome, but something about that night makes his features more prominent.
You’re still in the bathroom when he does enter your room, calling out to you with a, “Y/N? You ready? We need to get going soon.”
He hears your voice carry from the bathroom, light and feathery, and though it is muffled, he can make it out to sound like, “Just a sec!”
So, Jungkook waits. He’s suddenly nervous as he does, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves and the hem of his suit jacket, when he hears the bathroom door click open. He hears the clinking of your heels as you walk towards him and then time seems to slow down in a sort of entirely cliche way because all he can focus on is you. And, god, you’re beautiful. If Jungkook is to you only a man-made beauty of Renaissance and Ancient Greek art, then you are to him made up of the stars and the moon and sun, carved divinely from the very hands of the universe itself and kissed all over by enchanting Mother Nature. You are radiant, you are natural, genuine, breathtaking, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. He is far too caught up with the way you look to even pay attention to your words, that only hit him in disoriented white noise.
“Jungkook?” You wave a hand in his face. “Can you zip me up?”
“What?” Jungkook seems to snap out of his daze and shakes his head suddenly. “Oh, right! Sorry, of course. Come here.”
You do, closing the distance between him and you with a wobbly flourish on your heels and turn your back to him. Jungkook gulps as he sees the zipper of the dress hanging low on your back. With cold hands, he begins to pull the zipper up, but he doesn’t seem to notice the way goosebumps run down your spine when you feel the ghost of his touch. When he’s done, you turn to face him once more and place your hands on your hips. Your hair and makeup are perfectly done and the glittering jewellery you wear all makes you look like such an elegant star.
“Well?” You ask. “What do you think? Is it too much? I don’t really know, to be honest. Or am I too underdressed? Oh god, I don’t know━”
“You’re beautiful,” Jungkook says abruptly.
Your cheeks are tinted pink at his compliment and you look down bashfully. He reaches out for your hand and you take it carefully only to have him raise your clasped palms above your head.
“Spin for me, love.”
You obediently follow his command, anxious under his watchful eyes. They drift down and up and then back down and up again to take in your full figure and he sighs under his breath. When you’re facing him again, there is a hint of a smile on his face and his pupils are glistening.
“Magnificent,” he breathes. “My goodness, baby girl, all eyes are going to be on you and only you tonight. I think I’m going to need to keep a watchful eye on you and make sure you don’t ditch me for another man before I can even get to know you better.”
You shake your head at him as he softly drops your hand from his. You inattentively reach out to grab at his already perfectly kempt tie, straightening it from beneath his collar.
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” You giggle. “I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon, Jungkook.”
And Jungkook smiles.
Another chauffeured ride picks the two of you up at the hotel (this time a sleek black Mercedes) and drives you all the way to the Hotel Plaza Athénée, in which one of Jungkook’s associates have rented out the entire restaurant attached to it simply for the cause of their business dinner. Jungkook is the one who gets out of the car first and holds your door open, taking your hand to help you out and hooking arms with you as he guides you inside to the restaurant that you can only describe as a winter wonderland, made upon white furnishing and a magnificent crystal chandelier that resembles falling stars or snowflakes frozen in time.
The party isn’t nearly as terrible as you had thought. It begins awkwardly and you feel uncomfortable, shifting your weight from one heel to the other, and clinging desperately onto Jungkook, but the partygoers are friendly. They talk to you without a problem, introducing themselves with big smiles and welcoming you into their small lavish circle. The party continues on rather pleasantly, though you thank the glasses of red wine you are constantly consuming to not only help pass the time and soothe your nerves, but to distract the rich men and women around you long enough so you can breathe without feeling scrutinized.
By the time the night is coming to a close, you and Jungkook are equally as drunk off of expensive wine and champagne, and say a reasonable farewell to the other guests before leaving back to the hotel. You don’t leave Jungkook’s side, and perhaps that is because your intoxicated mind is suddenly buzzing with thoughts and your bloodstream is pumping with adrenaline because you are wide awake. You end up back in his room, both of you lounging out on the perfectly made bed, sharing yet another bottle of wine (that Jungkook had ordered from room service) between the two of you, giggling and chatting well into the night.
There is a moment where the late hour of the night and the alcohol seems to finally get to you and Jungkook; where the two of you are simply sprawled out on the bed in a comfortable silence. Your eyes begin to itch with the heavy need for sleep and you find yourself slipping in and out of your stream of consciousness, the fact that you are still confined to the tight dress you wear completely vanishing from your mind. It’s then that it seems to hit you - the whole ordeal with Jungkook and the fact that you are in Paris, wearing clothes that most certainly cost as much as your tuition - and it comes in waves of overwhelming and bursting joy and gratefulness.
“Jungkook,” You hum sleepily, catching the boy’s attention. “I’m serious when I say thank you for everything. It’s just so- so amazing and I want you to know that.”
“I know,” Jungkook says. “I believe you.”
You shift in your spot to stare up at him. He’s reclining beside you, a hand propped behind his head, and he is gazing up at the ceiling before looking over at you. He smiles softly.
“I just don’t want you to think you’re making a mistake by spending all this money on someone like me ━ as if I’m some sort of basket case,” You say. “So if you want to be brutally honest with me and never want to speak to me again after this, please just tell me now so I don’t have to wait to be rejected.”
He quirks a brow, examining your features as if to decipher your words.
“Is that what you think this is all about?” he asks finally. “The rich boy trying to do his moral duty by giving away his money? I’m helping you because I like you and because I don’t want to see someone as sweet and gentle as you being kicked out on the streets. I like you, all of you, and that’s not going to change. I’m not going anywhere.”
He finds you smiling, bright and cheery, your eyes twinkling beautifully. You do not know what compels you to move next ━ possibly the alcohol clouding your mind or the fact that Jungkook is sitting before you, as handsome as ever even at three in the morning ━ but then you are pushing yourself forward, leaning toward him and pressing your mouth against his for a sudden kiss. All you can focus on is the soft plump of his lips, laced with the taste of bittersweet wine and his intoxicating cologne, and it makes you pur with delight.
The action has Jungkook completely shocked but he doesn’t push you away. If anything, he begins to get carried away, but so do you. Suddenly, neither of you seem to be able to get enough of the taste of each other’s lips. You feel his tongue poke against your mouth, grazing your lower lip sensually, practically begging for entrance, and you part your mouth with ease, welcoming all of him. He kisses you slowly, yearning for more, but then the intensity of the kiss heats up. Your tongues dance together in a sloppy wet kiss, teeth clashing together in a desperate and needy fashion, lips smacking roughly against each other’s and igniting flames in every joint of your body. You react without thinking, wiggling around on the bed until you’re lifting yourself up and straddling his hips, sitting back on his thighs.
You’re grasping eagerly at him, tugging at the strands of hair at the nape of his neck, as his own hands come to rest upon your hips, pulling you against him. He parts from your lips then to pepper kisses down to your jawline and neck, where he licks a clean stripe upward. His lips wrap around the delicate skin there and he sucks, something that earns him a moan from yourself. You keen on him in content and jut your hips forward, silently urging him on for more. His breath hitches in his throat but, when you roll your hips against his once more, he moans into your neck.
“Baby girl,” he grunts. “If you keep doing that, I won’t be able to hold myself back.”
You smirk as you nip at his neck, making him growl. “Don’t hold back. I don’t want you to.”
Tingles run down his spine at the way your lips brush against his skin and he tugs you closer to him. He is so absorbed in the wholeness that is you that he can hardly grasp onto a reasonable thought. Especially not when you’re moaning against his neck with a slight whine of, “Fuck, Jungkook, I need you so bad.”
It takes all that he can in him to not cave at your touch and he shifts beneath your weight, gnawing on his lower lip. You can feel the bulge in his pants begin to brush against your inner thigh and the sensation against your throbbing core suddenly excites you. You roll your hips once more against him as you smash your mouth against his for a passionate kiss. It’s messy and eager and hot and you don’t plan on stopping. You think Jungkook has the same intentions with the way he is stifling his moans into the form of grunts and groans, his fingers digging tightly into your skin enough to make you gasp, but then his hold becomes ironclad and he stops your movements with ease.
“No, baby girl, we can’t,” he whispers against your lips.
You lean back on his lap and look at him curiously, admiring the way his lips are bruised red and the way his neck is suddenly marked raw. “Why not?”
Jungkook finds it hard to focus as you run your hands up his chest and back down, your fingertips dancing on the top of his belt. He grabs your hand then, twining your fingers together as he usually does and shaking his head gently.
“Not now,” he says. “I said I wouldn’t force you to do anything you don’t want.”
“But I do want this,” You insist. You lean forward to kiss him once more, moaning in pleasure. “God, I want this so much.”
Jungkook smiles weakly. His hand comes up to grasp gingerly at your cheek and he makes you look at him with delicate gestures.
“You’re drunk. I’m drunk,” he says. “Sometimes people make the wrong decisions when they’re drunk. I don’t want you to regret this when you wake up in the morning, even if you insist right now that you won’t. Okay?”
You sit back on his lap once more, dumbfounded and, albeit, slightly let down, but there’s a part of you that is thankful for Jungkook’s sudden decision. You relent at once, somehow letting a reasonable thought in your mind tell you that Jungkook is right, and you nod.
“Sorry,” You sigh and then yawn. “You’re right. I’m just━ just tired.”
Jungkook nods understandingly, and pecks your forehead gently, a gesture that is enough to leave your head spinning. You push yourself off of him and plop onto the bed with a heavy exhale of air as soon as your head hits the pillow. Once it does, you find it incredibly hard to keep your eyes open and Jungkook smiles lightly. It’s the candid genuinity that makes Jungkook’s heart swell.
“Why don’t you sleep here?” he suggests. “I’ll sleep in your room for the night if you want, or on the couch━”
He’s already standing to his feet when you stop him.
“Wait, Jungkook,” You mumble. When you speak next, your voice is an involuntary drunk whine, “This dress is so uncomfortable━ I just━”
He sees you struggling to reach the zipper of the dress and chuckles under his breath.
“Let me help you, baby,” he hums, his hands brushing against yours as he thwarts your attempts. “Just rest.”
You begin to argue, sounding very similar to a needy child, but Jungkook simply hushes you. In your drunken tired state, you don’t seem nearly as flustered as Jungkook is as he unzips your dress very slowly and the feeling is so foreign that it has Jungkook’s nerves mingling with fear. He’s undressed a girl plenty of times and never once has he been this timid. He finds it hard to focus his eyes elsewhere when he has you shimmying out of the dress because, Jesus, did you have to wear black lace panties with a matching strapless bra? You’re nearly stripped bare before him and he gulps as his eyes flicker down fleetingly over your body and your feminine curves. Before he can linger any longer, he is grabbing one of his plain t-shirts that is hanging off the back of a nearby armchair and slips it over your head and body with such soothing motions and all Jungkook can focus on now is just how cute you look in his shirt, your lips parted slightly, and your hair a hectic mess.
By the time your head hits the pillow once more, Jungkook can hear your tiny snores, and he can’t bring himself to shake you awake to help you into a pair of his sweatpants. Instead, he reaches for the blankets below you and tosses it over your figure and you shift, pushing yourself onto your side and nuzzling your head further into the pillow. As he is straightening up and exhaling a breath of air, he feels a small tug at his hand. He looks down then only to see your hand grasping at his fingertips and hears you mumble, through slurring words and a curtain of hair that crowds your mouth, “Stay.”
Jungkook knows it’s a terrible idea. He knows, deep down, just how badly this is affecting him with all these strange nerves coming to light and with just how easily he seems to give in to your demand. He smiles tenderly once more and nods, despite sighing under his breath.
“Of course, baby,” he whispers. “I’ll stay right here. Go back to sleep, okay?”
You don’t reply, but he doesn’t necessarily need you to. The serenity that is your slumbering face is enough for him and so he changes into a comfortable shirt and sweatpants before slipping under the sheets with you where he falls asleep without trouble. When he wakes in the morning, he finds that your limbs are tangled messily with his and you are pressed closed to his chest, his own arm slung over your waist, and he decides, in that moment, that he made the right choice after all.
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You return from Paris feeling refreshed, strangely, and your heart yearning for another magical getaway to a foreign city.
As if buying you the items he did in Paris wasn’t enough, Jungkook gives you yet another check of money for your time and it is surely enough to make your heart stop altogether. You aren’t quite sure how he knows, but he gives you just the right money to pay for your rent, and then some. It doesn’t just surprise you, but your landlord is at a loss for words when he sees you hand him a sealed envelope with the money you still owe him that very Tuesday, though he doesn’t question it.
Your encounters with Jungkook don’t stop there.
For some reason, you convince yourself to stay with the deal a little longer (perhaps a little selfishly, though you do admit you enjoy the company of Jungkook), but you have also convinced yourself that he’ll disappear, vanish without a trace, after returning from Paris. Fortunately, he doesn’t disappear, and he doesn’t act as if your relationship with him is simply just a job. You find him opening up to you, talking to you as a friend would, and you, in turn, find yourself falling more and more under his charm. Sometimes, he needs you for important business dinners or weddings or polo matches and other gatherings he’s invited to and, each time you go, he pays you fully in return. He always tells you such social events make these businessmen who they are, as if it were all one elaborate game. Other times, he invites you to do the simplest of tasks with him. When it first happens, only a week or two after Paris, you’re lounging in a relaxing bath late one Friday evening and you receive a text from the boy that simply says something along the lines of, “Are you busy? I could really use you right now. Come over if you can.”
Then, shortly after, he sends you another message that asks you, simply, to bring a swimsuit if you have one. The ambiguity and peculiarity of his message, as well as the fear of making sure you don’t disappoint him (but also, quite possibly, the chance to just see him), makes you scurry out of your bath and rush to get changed before chasing out the door. You hadn’t been to his home before then but he texts you his address after you reply that you are on your way and it doesn’t come as a surprise when you see he lives in one of the fancier parts of downtown. The address he gives you leads you straight to a high-rise complex in Midtown Manhattan. The subtly grand lobby is still overwhelming and the doorman and concierge greet you formally as you walk by. Jungkook’s abode, naturally, is the luxury penthouse located at the very top of the building and, walking past the other employees and residents to reach the elevator, makes you feel ashamed of the tight yoga pants and oversized shirt you wear (though no one is actually looking).
You wait anxiously in the elevator and walk the short distance to his entrance as soon as the elevator doors slide open to his floor. Earlier he had sent you a text that instructed you to just simply walk in and so you cautiously press open the front door of the penthouse. It swings wide open and your jaw drops at the stunning view before you. From what you can see, there are two floors to the penthouse, and the main floor has the very outer wall made of ceiling-to-floor glass window panes that look down onto the bustling city below. It is spacious and lavishly furnished and all you know is that your tiny apartment pales in comparison to this. You take a step inside and let the door shut behind you and, as soon as it clicks into place, a chirp of a bark makes you jump. Dashing straight out of a room and charging straight for you is a small white dog, yapping along the way at the newcomer that is you. Your face instantly lights up at the sight and, as the dog begins jumping and barking by your feet, you bend over to scoop him up in your arms, scratching just behind his ears.
“And who are you, cutie?” You coo. “How could Jungkook keep someone like you a secret from me?”
The dog twists in your hold and begins licking at your chin, earning an eruption of giggles from you as you try and gently push him away.
“I see you’ve met Gureum.”
Your head snaps up at the sound of Jungkook’s voice.  He’s standing near a corner he had just turned, leaning casually against the wall. The grin on his face is undeniably strong as he watches you cradle his dog in your arms. He pushes himself off the wall and takes leisurely strides towards you.
“He’s been by my side ever since I was a teen,” he says. “He’s a pretty loyal dog, y’know, and he and I have this special bond going on so I just needed to make sure you were worthy enough to be introduced to him, otherwise I would have told you sooner.”
You burst out into laughter and shake your head. “Well, I’m glad I passed the test and was worthy enough to meet him. Gureum, hm?” You pause and glance back down at the dog. “It means cloud, right? A cute name for a cute pup. I think we’ll get along just fine.”
You plant a kiss on Gureum’s face and then place him down on the ground where he immediately darts off to grab a toy before tottering back. You straighten up to look at Jungkook and gesture around his home.
“Nice place you got here,” You say. “Need a roommate?”
“You want to live together already?” he teases. “You have to at least let me take you out on a few more dates before we get that serious.”
You chuckle lightly and the sound is so silvery and sweet that it makes Jungkook’s heart sing. He is watching you with admiration as you kick off your shoes and begin walking further into his apartment.
“So, what did you want from me tonight?” You asked. “Your text seemed a little urgent.”
“Oh, right,” Jungkook says. He begins following after you and shrugs. “Well, I was going to ask you if you could be my date for an upcoming event. It’s a charity gala ball that my parents and the company will be endorsing in a few months time. It’s fairly a big deal and my father thinks it’ll be good for publicity, again, if I have a proper date by my side since I’ll be hosting the night of the gala and saying a speech.”
“Of course I’ll come with you,” You say. “But did you really have to tell me to come all the way here just to say that?”
Jungkook bursts out into laughter. “I know I could have done that over the phone but, truthfully, I really just wanted to spend a little more time with you. Now that our business talk is out of the way, how does a pizza and movie night sound to you?”
He flings himself down onto the couch nearby and lounges out on it, staring up at you with a look of anticipation. You can’t help but quirk a brow, biting your lower lip to hide the smile that threatens to paint your face.
“You just wanted to spend time with me?” You echo. “So you called me over for pizza and a movie?”
Jungkook nods, beaming up at you. “What do you say?”
“I’ll stay only if you let me have first pick of the movie.”
He pushes himself up to sit (at which point, Gureum takes the liberty of jumping up to sit in his owner’s lap and Jungkook casually threads his fingers through the dog’s fur) and grins, “You can pick every movie we watch.”
“Well, then, if that’s the case━” You plop down next to him on the couch and wiggle around until you’re comfortably positioned. “A pizza and movie night sounds absolutely divine.”
“Good,” he says. “Because I already ordered the pizza while you were on your way here.”
You throw your head back and moan a bit too excessively but it only makes Jungkook laugh. “You spoil me rotten, you know that?”
He shrugs sheepishly and shoots you a wink that has your heart leaping in your chest. He leans in close with a wicked smirk on his face and hums, “Only the best for my baby girl. And, of course while you’re here, we can take a dip in the pool.”
“So that’s what you meant by the cryptic swimsuit text,” You giggle. “I’d love to go for a swim. This apartment’s pool must be amazing.”
“Oh, yes, that one is quite spectacular but I was thinking we could stay within the comfort of my home.”
He says this so simply that you almost don’t register his words. Then it seems to dawn on you the meaning behind his words and you are gawking in pure amazement. “Are you telling me you have a pool in your penthouse?”
Jungkook smirks humorously. “Is it too much?”
You can’t help but shake your head at the cocky tone that twines with his words. A small, bemused thought pops into your head that begs the question just what have you gotten yourself into? A month ago, you would have never been able to imagine living such a life and yet here you are, as Jungkook so graciously had invited you into his own personal world.
Soon enough, you’re standing by the edge of the pool in Jungkook’s home ━ and, yes, he really does have his own personal pool. Tucked away on the second floor of his penthouse, high above the city of New York, like his own perfect little oasis. When you see it, when you’re dressed in nothing but a red bikini standing on the edge of the pool, it feels like a dream. The buildings of Manhattan tower around the penthouse, dazzling with lit windows that shine their soft glow onto the rippling surface of the pool. Somewhere far below you can hear the sound of the city breathing, living; of a distant wailing siren and the squeal of a tire and a blaring horn. And, when you look above, it feels as if you’re so close to the sky that you could reach out and touch the hiding stars.
Jungkook, who is behind you and watching the look of awe paint your face, will smile to himself and then he will give you one playful nudge that pushes you into the pool with a gratifying splash and a yelp of startle on your part that you know will fade into nothing to the people far down below when you’re up this high. He’ll join you in the pool and you’ll sit with him in the serene space, sipping on a bottle of wine and enjoying the pizza he had ordered.
Up there, so high above Manhattan, it feels as if you have the whole world in the palm of your hand and you tell yourself that if this really is a dream, you never want to wake up from it.
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After that night, it isn’t uncommon for Jungkook to text or call you with equally vague messages, asking you to come over to this apartment only to embark on the utmost mundane things. Once, he calls you asking for your help and, when you rush to his apartment, he is debating which flavour ice cream he should bring out for yet another movie night you spend together. Another time, he calls you to accompany him on his walk with Gureum, or to help him buy groceries, or be his extra food critic when he decides to order takeout from a new restaurant.
Each time he calls or texts you, each time he asks you to rush over only for something minor, he ends up paying you in cheques and still spoils you with “little” gifts every now and then, like a watch one night, a pair of diamond earrings another, a shirt you had been eyeing at the store one day when he and you had passed by a boutique while walking Gureum. Though the money and gifts are, by no means, any less valuable or less cherished than they already are by you, your sudden time alone with Jungkook becomes something much more than just material pleasure. When it’s just you and him, curled up next to one another on his couch as you watch the flickering images of the movie play out before you, whether basking in the silence or laughing together until you cry, those moments become precious and sacred and you find yourself enjoying his company much more than his money or gifts.
Your relationship with him carries on like this for weeks upon weeks, until three months seem to pass, though it certainly doesn’t feel like it at all (especially when you are consumed with finishing school). The money he gives you, as well as the money you earn from both jobs you still work, is enough for you to keep paying your rent and your loans off, long after you’ve graduated from school (another celebration that Jungkook so graciously attends and earns strange looks from your friends and family when they see just how close the two of you are). As a gift for your graduation, Jungkook calls you late one evening when you are relaxing in a warm bubble bath. When you answer the call, cradling your phone between your ear and shoulder, he greets you with, “How do you feel about Italy?”
You quirk a brow. “It’s beautiful. I’ve always wanted to go there. Why are you asking?”
“Well, yes, it is quite beautiful,” he says. “But how do you feel about going to Italy? Say, tomorrow morning?”
You nearly drop your phone into the bath when you register his question. You sit up rather quickly, as if that will help steady you against the tremendous question. “Is it for a business thing?”
“Just an us thing,” he says. “To celebrate your graduation.”
He already knows your answer, as do you. Yet you still sputter over your words and then, with a sheepishly large smile plastered on your face, exclaim your approval of the spontaneous trip.
In the morning, Jungkook will come to pick you up in yet another chauffeured drive, much like it had been for the trip to Paris. This time he decides to take you to the Amalfi Coast, a coastal town in southern Italy. You land in Naples and rent a car from the airport (a Lamborghini, to be exact) which Jungkook and you take turns driving with the roof down, the wind in your hair. The narrow winding roads on the sides of the coastal cliff seem to be no match for the exhilarating speed of the car and much of the drive is spent soaking up the rays of the warm sun. The quaint town of the Amalfi Coast is built upon the sides of the steep cliff with small alleyways, cobblestoned streets, blossoming lemon trees, and colourful buildings that spiral down, down, down, to the rocky shores of the beach and the sparkling cerulean waters of the sea. The villa Jungkook rents has a luxurious view of the sea. It’s all shimmering white and ivory and cobalt blue detailings, all culminating in one magnificently breathtaking oasis.
The first day in the town is spent on the beach, and the evening is spent wandering about the streets with you in a sheer white and floral Zimmermann sundress courtesy of Jungkook, sipping on limoncello and eating dinner at an outdoor restaurant as the bright sky fades to night. The streets are just as lively as ever with tourists and distant music, the town glowing softly with its burning lights and candles against the starry sky, and everything is simply perfect. Whimsical. The next day is spent with Jungkook’s friends. You’ve seen them before in passing at other social events you have accompanied with Jungkook and, unbeknownst to you at the time, at the lounge when Jungkook and his friend had stumbled upon your talk with your manager. You come to learn that this same friend is Park Jimin, a wealthy man not much older than Jungkook himself, who is built upon old money and whose family owns a chain of successful global hotels and resorts. Jimin invites the pair of you to a day on his yacht out at sea with a few of his other closest friends.
The yacht itself is quite a spectacle, with three floors to it and a personal pool located on the deck, as well as a bar and a lounge area. You spend most of your time sipping on piña coladas and sunbathing in the glittering sun atop the deck, adorned in a Proenza Schouler black swimsuit and a wide-brimmed sun hat. Jungkook’s friends, you come to find, aren’t as insouciant as Jungkook himself but also aren’t as arrogant as the customers you have encountered at your work at the lounge back in Manhattan. Whatever the case, they are nice enough to invite you into their group and make certain you feel as welcome as you can. When Jimin decides to take the cabin cruiser for a spin around the sea, you stand at the bow of the deck, your hands clasped tightly on the back of your hat so as to keep it from flying away, and laugh spritely as Jimin speeds around in wide circles with the sea’s mist dusting across your face.
At some point, the cabin cruiser comes to a halt, softly rocking against the gentle current of the sea. Jimin is the first one to jump into the water, followed by yourself, and a few other of their friends. When Jungkook joins you in the shimmering ethereal blue waters, the smile on your face is irreplaceable and one that makes a similar grin form on his face. The cool water is a relief against your skin which had, up until that point, been warm with the sticky heat of the day. Jungkook is by your side in an instant, just a short distance away from the cruiser and his other friends. By the time he joins you, you’re positively beaming, bursting with joy, and entirely overwhelmed with appreciation for the kindness of Jungkook and the beauty of Italy.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asks humorously. Of course he doesn’t need an answer ━ not when you are so clearly content and at peace.
“Jungkook,” You sigh his name dreamily. “I’ve never been happier.”
He smiles gingerly. “I believe you.”
“I still don’t want you to think you’re making a mistake by spending all this money on someone like me,” You say.
He quirks a brow, examining your features as if to decipher your words, and squints past the sun.
“That’s still what you think?” he asks finally. “That I regret all the time we’ve been spending together? Because you’d be wrong. When I first asked you about all of this, I did it because I wanted to help you, because I like you. And all our time spent together since then… It’s been incredible.”
“You really mean that?” You ask timidly.
“Of course I do,” he says. “Look, when I’m with you, things feel different.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“Good. Definitely good.”
You catch his gaze on you and, despite all the money and glory he has to his name, he looks at you unlike he has looked to anything else before. As if you’re worth far more than all the gold jewelry and diamonds and pretty coastal towns and designer clothes he has ever seen. As if you’re the whole world and more, right in front of him, under the glittering Italian sun. His eyes then flicker from yours, down to your lips, and you certainly don’t miss it. There’s a tiny voice in the back of your mind that begs you desperately to kiss him. Maybe he’s feeling the same way because, slowly, your faces inch towards one another.
He comes so close, in fact, that you can feel his breath fanning against your neck, can smell the sea’s salt on his skin and the faded scent of his cologne. You come so close to one another that it, perhaps, becomes a little too dangerous. Before anything can happen, Jimin is calling out to the two of you and you both instantly freeze. Jungkook laughs almost sheepishly and you can’t help but join in. Still, even as the day unfolds and you become distracted with every other beautiful detail of the Amalfi Coast, you can’t help but wonder what would have happened had you and Jungkook not been interrupted by Jimin.
And, by the end of the night when you’ve both tucked in for the night in the villa, the realization dawns on you that you, quite possibly, are falling in love with Jungkook.
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Just when you believe things are going impeccably well, the bitterness of reality finally seems to settle in.
A few weeks after your stay in Italy, Jimin invites both Jungkook and you to a party he is hosting at his family hotel in Seoul. Most of the night unfurls smoothly, with you adorned magnificently in a cream-coloured Alexander Wang slip dress and Jungkook in a Saint Laurent dress shirt, lounging by the bar near the lobby of the hotel and sipping on martinis. Jimin’s hotel is full of a type of grandeur that resembles a palace with its elegant ornate decorations and ebony wood carvings. Seoul itself is as spectacular as ever, the metropolis towering around you and all illuminated by the city’s lights. Yet all of this and Jungkook still focuses only on you, his voice low and charming over the soft thump of music, and his eyes twinkling mischievously.
Some time during the night, Jimin begins chatting to you and Jungkook disappears. At first he is chatting to an old confidant but, when you turn to look at him the next time, you find him with another girl at the bar, seemingly flirting with her. Whatever the case, they appear to be rather cozy with one another, and though you know you have no warrant to be jealous, it still creeps upon you without warning and sabotages your night. You try to avert your attention, try to chat with Jungkook’s friends, and flirt with other rich entrepreneurs but nothing seems to distract you long enough ━ not until Jimin mentions something that grabs your attention.
“You know,” he muses pensively. He pauses to take a sip of his cognac and then says, “I’ll admit: I’m surprised you and Jungkook have lasted so long.”
“What do you mean?” You ask.
“Well, it’s not like you two are dating, right?” When you continue to stare up at Jimin with a dumbfounded expression, he continues. “The only reason Jungkook confronted you in the first place was because his parents were pissed at him. Something about him tarnishing their name by his ‘free’ lifestyle, if you will. They got mad at him and his rampaging bachelor ways, having flings with random strangers every other weekend in a foreign city. His parents are really stuck in their old-school mentality; they just don’t want Jungkook to drag the wrong kind of people into the family money and business. They would have even gone so far as to kick him from being CEO of their company.”
“They what?”
“Oh, yeah,” Jimin says. “Didn’t he tell you? That’s partly what the charity gala is for. His father doesn’t think Jungkook will be able to settle down anytime soon. He’s been under a lot of scrutiny. Jungkook was considerably worried there for a moment; I’ve never seen him like that before. I suggested he fall from the limelight for a bit but he thought he could fix all of this. I guess that’s where you came in. I didn’t think Jungkook would last long constantly being tied down but he’s certainly proved me wrong.”
He chuckles then, as if this whole thing was quite amusing to him. Though you aren’t quite sure how to react. You knew Jungkook wanted you to be his date at important social events for good publicity, but it never dawned on you that he could only be using you for his own sake. Maybe it didn’t mean anything. Maybe Jungkook had simply forgotten to tell you, but that just felt as if you are uselessly grasping at excuses. Either way, it slowly begins to dawn on you the whole ordeal of your relationship with Jungkook and, suddenly, you feel used.
You tell yourself Jimin’s words shouldn’t have meant anything anyway because it’s not as if you and Jungkook are dating but you can’t deny the fact that they leave a lasting impression on you. But that’s how it had all started, hadn’t it? Or maybe not. Jungkook had approached you on the basis of needing your company, but he had made it sound so simple ━ as if it was you who needed the help. And you can’t deny the hope you had felt building within you. Had everything Jungkook said to you been a lie? Every pretty word, telling you how great he had claimed it felt to be with you? Jimin’s words all culminate in one prominent thought which is that maybe Jungkook only really needed you long enough for the charity ball, simply so he could earn back his father’s trust and secure his spot in the company.
Whether it was one too many martinis or strawberry daiquiris or the lavish designer dress that suddenly feels too constricting on your body or the way Jungkook was so carelessly flirting with another girl, much like he had done before in Paris and even in Italy, you need to escape. Everything just seems so suffocating and ridiculous. But moreover, you are reminded by the sobering fact that this lifestyle you have suddenly surrounded yourself with is one you have mocked before. It’s one you have claimed you would never have the privilege of understanding, one that you never really yearned to be a part of if it was anything like the wealthy folk who inhabited the bar lounge you work at.
So, you decide to leave.
You aren’t quite certain your abrupt decision will do any good but suddenly all you crave is the comfort of your own home, however much it may pale in comparison to villas in Italy and luxurious hotels in Seoul. You don’t bother telling Jungkook. Instead, you send him a single text that warns him of your departure and inform Jimin who, in his drunken bliss, may or may not remember to tell Jungkook.
And somehow, after you are able to secure a flight back to New York within a few hours and are seated aboard the plane, you’re able to convince yourself that maybe Jungkook wouldn’t miss you anyway.
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Out of your own stubborn will, you begin to ignore Jungkook.
The day after you return to New York, you are greeted by a voicemail from Jungkook who asks curiously why you left. Then, when you don’t respond to that, he decides to send you various texts throughout the week that continue to ask if anything happened, if you’re doing okay, if you’re mad at him. At some point he sends you a text asking if you can come to his place and you decide to respond with a short and cold text simply saying you’re too busy. You don’t know exactly what you expect from pushing Jungkook away. Maybe you had imagined he would forget you altogether and you could casually slip back into the real world that you had lived before meeting Jungkook. Of course that isn’t the case. Jungkook knows something is wrong; he knows that you’re angry but he has no means of knowing why you’re mad at him. Yet he refuses to stop trying to contact you.
It starts with a grand bouquet of saffron crocuses surrounded by Casablanca lilies and gardenias. It first appears at the bar lounge, a massive and beautiful arrangement of flowers encased in a crystal clear vase taking up most of the space of the bar counter which doesn’t exactly please Namjoon. A single card is tucked amongst the petals of the flowers, your name printed in pretty script. It doesn’t say who it’s from but you don’t need to know the name to understand. You decide to leave it at the bar, much to Namjoon’s dismay. The next week, you answer a knock at your door and are greeted to a personal delivery of a small neatly wrapped package that is revealed to be a rose gold Cartier bracelet encrusted with diamonds. You tell the delivery man at the door to return it. The week after that, you answer the front door once more and come face to face with delivery men placing a dozen bouquets of red roses around your apartment. This time you are forced to keep them, and stare at them distantly as they overwhelm your small kitchen in a wild secret garden.
The same week of the gift of the plethora of roses is also the same week of Jungkook’s charity gala. You try to convince yourself to stay home but you can’t not go. Even if Jungkook was possibly using you to his own benefit, it would be a shame if your missing self was indirectly one of the factors that caused Jungkook’s father to change his mind. Besides, it is the least you can do for the man after he had showered you with attention and materialistic pleasure, even if none of it really mattered to him. Your invitation to the gala still stands, that much you know, and the dress Jungkook had bought for you weeks ago is still hanging on the back of your bedroom door. It is a long, A-line Zuhair Murad gown with a plunging neckline, and the tulle and fabric of which is made of a light blush colour. It’s encrusted with sparkling swarovskis where they cluster mostly at the bodice and then trail along the rest of the skirt like falling stars. It’s a breathtaking, elegant piece, and you tell yourself that it is the sole reason why you ultimately decide to go to the gala because it really would be a shame to never wear the dress out.
When you finally do arrive at the gala, it is at Pier 15 in Lower Manhattan. The party itself is on a grand luxury yacht and the duration of the gala is meant to take place sailing around the harbor once night has fallen. As it rests docked by the pier, the yacht is already crowded with various elites and socialites and certain celebrities as the stragglers still trickle in. The party is well on its way, with the guests mingling with one another, enjoying hor d’oeuvres and champagne out of crystal flute glasses, as a live band, somewhere, plays smooth jazz music. You spot Jungkook before he notices you, looking handsome in another Armani suit, standing at the front of the bow of the deck and greeting newcomers. Beside him stands an older woman and man dressed impeccably, both of whom share a striking resemblance to Jungkook. Though you have never met them before, you assume they are his parents. You approach them shyly, with your back straight and your head held high. Jungkook notices you first and his eyes widen in surprise, his jaw unhinging open (partly because it feels as if he hasn’t seen you in months, but mostly because of how divine you look).
“Y/N!” Your name slips past Jungkook’s mouth in an exclamation before he can bite it back. He moves forward as if preparing to walk up to you but he has to hold himself back. He doesn’t miss the way you desperately try to avoid his stare, or the way you stand rigidly beside him.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” You apologize, though you say it mostly for the act you are putting on for his parents. “I got caught up at work and the traffic was horrid.”
“Oh, that’s certainly alright,” The woman says brightly. “You must be Y/N.”
“We’ve heard plenty about you from our son,” The man chuckles to himself. “I was wondering when we would have the pleasure of meeting you.”
Jungkook, who is still in a state of shock, opens and clamps his mouth shut repeatedly, frantically trying to grasp onto a proper train of thought. Eventually, he snaps from his daze and nods towards you. For the sake of the act, he places his hand on your back between your shoulder blades rather than the small of your back he had grown quite acquainted with.
“Mom, dad, meet Y/N,” he introduces. “Y/N, meet my parents.”
You shake their hands in a firm grip and nod politely, tight-lipped, when they introduce their names to you. Soon after, when the sun has dipped below the horizon, the boat takes off on its slow journey around the harbor and the party begins. While Jungkook mingles with his guests, you saunter off to the bar where you concede you will be spending most of your night. A few of Jungkook’s friends are there whom you remember from Italy and so you chat with them if only to pass the time. Fortunately Jungkook is much too busy to find a moment to come up to you. In fact, the only time you are around Jungkook is when he begins his speech to the partygoers at the gala on the deck of the ship. A handful of hours later, the boat docks by the pier once more and, while the party continues to unfurl within the yacht, you decide to venture home.
You have only made it off the yacht and onto the pier when you are forced to come to an abrupt halt. Because there, rushing off the ramp connected to the deck, and hopping down onto the pier in a hurry to catch you with a call of your name, is Jungkook. Truthfully, you had been hoping to escape the party without him noticing; meanwhile, Jungkook, who had been subject to a dull conversation about stocks with an old business partner of his father’s, was hoping he would find you once he managed to break free from the party. Yet now that he has you within his grasps, his words fall short. He stares at you curiously, perhaps a little confused as his brows knit together at the sight of you. There’s a dozen things he wants to ask you, and a dozen more things he wants to tell you, but he can’t.
Instead, he asks, “Where are you going?”
“Home,” You reply. Behind Jungkook, the ensuing party can be heard ━ an amass of sound ranging from regal laughter to soft music. Behind you, and out towards the city, you can hear the sound of passing citizens and tourists, the whizzing of cars and the wailing of a siren. “You don’t need me anymore. Your parents are gone. They looked pleased. You can clearly go have fun now. Maybe go back to that girl who was eyeing you at the bar.”
Jungkook, staring at you with a dumbfounded expression, asks the first thing that pops into his mind that seems the most logical. “Have you been drinking?”
You simply shake your head, though Jungkook has an unnerving feeling that it is more of an act of scrutiny towards him and not an answer to his question. It’s Jungkook’s fault anyway; he wants to talk to you, but he can’t seem to formulate his thoughts into words.
“Just go back to the party, Jungkook,” You sigh.
“I don’t want to,” he says with a frown. He takes a step towards you and pauses. “I want to stay with you.”
When you don’t respond, he pushes himself forward once more. He doesn’t stop until he is standing right before you, where he so very carefully takes your right hand in his. It’s a small action but it’s enough to make your heart swoon. He glances up, makes sure he catches your wandering stare with his.
“Come home with me,” he says. “Whatever’s happening… We can talk it out. Don’t you want to?”
You do. You want to tell him the truth but your stubborn mind warns you to be wary and the small fact that you feel as if you can’t trust Jungkook anymore is enough to make you wince. Perhaps he can sense your hesitation, or notices the way you flinch because he squeezes your hand just enough. And maybe it’s the way his deep carob eyes pour deeply into yours, or the proximity between your two beating hearts, or the way he holds your hand that makes you cave. You tell yourself, much like you had at the start of all this, that just once more wouldn’t hurt. That maybe he’ll finally answer all your questions or that maybe you’ll learn to forget everything you had heard and let Jungkook spoil you with riches.
So, when you nod your confirmation to Jungkook, you not only startle him, but yourself too. He abandons his dwindling party on the fancy yacht for you. He calls for a chauffeur and drives with you in a tense silence back to his home. The perverse silence follows you even as you clamber out of the car, into the apartment’s lobby, and during the elevator ride to the penthouse. When you finally make it to his home, you are disappointed to feel nothing. You don’t know how long you’re in his apartment for, though it really isn’t for that long.
You’ve kicked off your heels and have wandered over to the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room just as he’s shed his suit jacket and tossed it somewhere on one of the couches. He asks if you want something to drink ━ such a mundane question for your relationship with Jungkook, but what else could he ask you at a time like this? He just wants to know what has been plaguing your mind long enough to drive yourself away from him ━ but you only shake your head. Your arms are wound protectively over your chest and, as you eye the illuminated city down below, you are overcome with the feeling of shame and embarrassment. And all because of one sole thought that reminds you: you don’t belong here. Here in this luxurious dress, here in this luxurious penthouse, here with such a luxurious man.
As if that is the cataclystic thought you need, you turn around on one pointed heel and shake your head. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come here tonight. This was a mistake.”
You’re halfway to the door when Jungkook stops you by speaking up.
“Do you mean coming here tonight was a mistake?” he asks. “Or are you really trying to tell me that you think we’re a mistake?”
“There isn’t even a we,” You retort. When you turn to face him, his brows are pinched together in a scowl.
“What has been up with you lately?” he asks. Though his words may sound hostile, his voice is a gentle plea. “You’re mad, aren’t you? Well, what did I do?”
When you don’t respond, he decides to continue on.
“Didn’t you get my gifts?” he asks. “They were the only way I could reach you to apologize. Did you not like them? Because if that’s the case, just say the word, and I’ll buy you anything you want. Just━”
“That’s not it, Jungkook.”
“Then what is it?” His words are a little more vexed than usual. When he realizes this, he pauses and takes a deep breath. Then, running a hand through his perfectly parted hair, he continues on. “I can’t know what the problem is when you won’t tell me what’s bothering you ━ when you keep pushing me away. But I’m trying my hardest to please you. I just need you to talk to me.”
“So you thought the gifts would work?” You ask. When your eyes settle on him, they’re narrowed into a glare. “Did you━ what? Think you could just buy my attention back? Or buy my love? I’m sorry if it came across that way but I’m not another one of your cheap fucks. I’m not going to come crawling back to you just for your money. I just━ I’ve had enough of all of this! It’s so stupid! I feel so ridiculous.”
You raise your hands in the air in a sign of defeat, though really you are bitterly gesturing to the pretty dress adorning your curves and sigh. Cautiously, Jungkook takes another step towards you. “Y/N, please just tell me what’s wrong.”
“Did you even really care about me?”
The question is so abrupt that it catches him off guard. He takes a moment to respond, noting the way you wrap your arms protectively over your chest.
“What are you talking about?” he asks wearily.
“This whole deal between us,” You say. “You just needed a perfect cover so you could impress your parents, right? Secure your spot as CEO so you wouldn’t lose all your money? And might as well get some bonus points for deciding to ‘settle’ down with a poor girl while you’re at it, right? Was that all that I was to you? A cover and the charity case?”
You assume by the way his eyes widen with apprehension and the way his lips are pulled in a thin line that you must be right. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it, his words stammering in his mind.
“How did you know?” he asks.
“So it’s true?” You ask sourly.
“No. I mean, yes. It’s half true,” he says. Then he shakes his head sullenly. “It was Jimin who told you, wasn’t it?”
“What does it matter?” You retort. “The point is, I’m right. You were just using me the whole time. I bet, on all these fancy excursions you took me on, you and your friends would laugh about it and me. You know, I knew you were rich but I didn’t take you for an asshole too.”
“No!” he exhales sharply, as if he has just felt a horrendous pang of pain in his chest. “I mean, you’re right about my parents and about the CEO position, but everything else is wrong.”
Clearly, you don’t look amused. Your patience is wearing thin, and the way you stare up at him as if he is some stranger altogether makes his chest and throat swell.
“I made a mistake. I’m sorry, okay? I should have told you from the beginning,” he sighs. “They were mad at me ━ my parents. They thought I wasn’t taking the position as CEO seriously enough and they would have taken it away from me. But it wasn’t the fear of losing the money that made me feel ashamed of it all. It was the fact that I had disappointed my parents, and I wanted to make things right. I wanted to show them I was responsible enough to take on the company. I wanted them to trust me.”
“So you had to use me?”
“No!” he shakes his head furiously. “Look… All the business dinners and social events I took you to over these past few months ━ I’d have gone to them all even if you weren’t by my side. The first dinner in Paris I took you to ━ I told you I needed a date to impress those associates and it worked. My parents heard about how well it went and they kept praising you, even though they hadn’t met you. For once they didn’t look so disappointed with me. Having you by my side was just a plus. I wasn’t really using you; you just came at the right time so we could both benefit from this deal between us. But when I first approached you at the lounge, it wasn’t about all of this. It was about you. Because I had seen you there before and because I overheard how you were scared you would get kicked out of your apartment. I wanted to help you because I like you, not because I thought you were a charity case or whatever you think it was. It was because I genuinely wanted to get closer to you. And what I said to you in Italy? I meant it. I meant everything.”
You’re gnawing on your lower lip anxiously, watching him carefully. You haven’t realized that he has slowly been inching closer to you until then. You ask quietly, maybe a little tiredly, “But what do I really mean to you, Jungkook? Pretty words mean one thing but… It’s just been months since this whole thing started and nothing’s ever happened between us and I always see you with pretty girls but I can’t be the only one feeling different. I mean, even in Italy ━ you can’t tell me we weren’t going to kiss but then you turned away and━”
You’re cut off abruptly with a kiss on your mouth, his mouth silencing your own mouth with an unbreakable seam of your lips. It catches you completely off guard but it reminds you so suddenly of all your harbored feelings towards him. The kiss is hard, fast, feverish and it happens all at once that you barely have time to register anything else before you’re parting from with him a loud pop! of your lips. You’re gawking up at him with wide eyes and an ajar mouth, lips swollen red, and breathing fast when a sudden realization dawns on you. All the magic you had felt in Paris and Italy, the dreamlike state of mind you had endured these past few months ━ most of it had been because of Jungkook. Because when you’re around Jungkook, no matter the lavish place or foreign city or pretty beach, everything feels, simply, like magic. Jungkook’s reaction is similar to yours but then it softens into something more cordial. His eyes sweep over your face softly and his hand comes up to rest gingerly upon your cheek.
“You mean the world to me,” he whispers. “And I mean that. I haven’t felt this different in such a long time. These past few months that we’ve spent together, whether it being at boring dinner parties or walking Gureum or having a movie night, it’s meant so much to me. You mean so much to me. No one else matters. No one else compares to you. Fancy cars and Italy and Paris can’t even compare to you. And I’ve never felt so━ so me and so comfortable than when I’m around you. I’m just so thankful you even gave me a chance in the first place━”
This time it is you who silences him again with another short kiss, his words exciting you all too suddenly that you think you aren’t possibly able to contain it. You part from him moments later only to mumble against his lips, “Keep kissing me, please.”
It earns a soft chuckle against your lips but Jungkook doesn’t relent. How can he ever deny such an idea when the taste of your lips is so heavenly? The soft flesh of your upper lip wedged so perfectly between his teeth, the way you sigh with delight against his mouth as the kiss progresses, the way the touch and feel of your lips ignites something so foreign, so lovely, in the very core of his heart, in his bones, exploding with each passing second behind his shut eyelids and at the tips of his fingers. He enjoys it too much to find any reason to stop and, instantaneously, his insatiable hunger for you is coming to light. His eager lips part from yours to nip and suck at your jawline and neck and it earns a beautiful gasp from you, your hands flying out to grasp onto his biceps.
“Let me take care of you tonight, baby girl,” he hums. “It’ll be all about you. I’ll show you just how much you mean to me.”
It’s the way he is whispering his words, deep and husky, that sends shivers down your spine. You curl into his chest instinctively and crane your neck, as if silently begging him for more. You can feel his lips ghost along your jugular as you try to speak next and it is enough to make you flustered and, thus, makes you give up on any attempt to communicate verbally without sounding like a fool. Instead, as if to show him your interest, you catch his lips with yours once more and kiss him eagerly. It makes Jungkook smile and suppress his chuckles as he sees just how desperate you are and, fuck, he finds it incredibly hot. In the next moment, you’re burrowing your face into his neck, your tongue laving circles at his jugular.
“Just as long as you get me out of this stupid dress,” You mumble against his throat.
He laughs lightly and you can’t help the giggle that bubbles at your lips. He grabs onto your waist then and pushes you around until he has your back pressed up against the nearest wall. He leans in against you and replaces your efforts by littering love bites along your neck and down to your collarbone. Your breath hitches in your throat and your hand immediately comes up to allow your fingers to thread in his hair and grasp at something, anything. You’re bristling with excitement as you hold your head higher, lips curling into a smirk. He hums into your neck and then he’s greedily reaching for the zipper of your dress, tugging it down.
As soon as he has the dress unzipped, he watches as you begin to shimmy your way out of the material, tugging it down your torso and then legs and Jungkook makes sure he doesn’t miss one single second of it or the white lace underwear you wear, the perfect perk of your breasts bare. It’s then that Jungkook realizes this isn’t all an elaborate dream in his head; that this is real life, and that you’re opening yourself up completely to him. As soon as you’re stepping out of the dress, Jungkook can’t help but reach out to grab onto your hips and yank you toward him, sighing into your hair, “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”
Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice the way your own hands snake up his chest to pop open the first few buttons of his dress shirt. Instead, he is much too busy on peppering kisses along your neck and shoulders, down to your collarbones, and back up again, marking you red and purple. It’s then that he starts pulling you with him as he takes quick yet careful strides backwards to the flight of stairs. It’s messy and frantic and results in a lot of time spent pressed up against walls and the railing of the stairs along the way to the second floor, greedy hands and lips unwilling to part from one another. By the time you’ve made it to his bedroom, you’ve somehow managed to unbutton his entire shirt which now hangs open against his chest and your hands selfishly run up and down his exposed skin. Once in his bedroom, he shoves you up against one of the ceiling-to-floor windows that line the wall facing his bed, his lips still attached to your neck, and one of your legs thrown haphazardly around his hips, pressing him into you.
You can feel the bulge in his pants and his restrained member poking against your inner thigh and it is what pushes you to give an experimental roll of your hips against his. A rather loud moan falls from your lips at the abrupt contact against your throbbing core and suddenly you need more. You catch his lips on yours and he decides to take the liberty of grinding against you in such agonizing slow circles that it has both of you going absolutely insane but you want to take the time to enjoy every single second of this. His hands grasp at your hips, pushing you further and further up against the window. When he parts from you in the next moment, it is with a fleeting sweep of his hungry gaze down the front of your body, his fingertips dancing faintly along your arms and sides.
He presses one last lingering kiss to your lips and then leaves a trail down your throat, between the valley of your breasts (which he gluttonously grasps at, his thumb swiping over one of your perked bugs), and to your navel. He’s on his knees by the time he’s hovering over your hips, and the leg that had been carelessly wound around his waist now rests upon his shoulder. He plants a kiss on the skin just between your hip bones, just above your panties, and surely he understands your need. His seemingly unencumbered expression is maddening. His fingers dig into your hips and hours seem to pass as you wait for him to touch the one place he neglects. A needy whimper falls from your parted lips that sounds akin to a desperate beg of, “Please, Jungkook. I need you.”
“Shh, baby girl, have patience,” he rasps. “I’m going to treat you just right.”
His promise rouses you and makes you stifle your childlike whines, though your patience is beginning to wear thin. His fingers hook around the lace material of your panties and he slowly drags them down your legs, enjoying the way you bite down on your lower lip in anticipation and watch him with hooded eyes. His eyes take in your soft glistening cunt and he sighs in admiration. Then his tongue makes contact with your clit and a small squeak rips from your throat, your hips immediately bucking forward. He doesn’t seem to mind, though, and if anything moans in delight at the taste of your cum on his tongue. He runs the wet muscle down your folds and back up, swirling slow circles against your bundle of nerves, feeling just how wet you are for him, tasting just how wet you are, and the new sensation hits you all at once, leaving your jaw hanging open. He smirks at your reaction, his tongue continuing its ministration as you’re certain he can feel your arousal grow.
“Jungkook,” You sigh, your hands twisting in his hair. “Ah, th━that feels so good━ Oh!”
The sudden gasp that tears from your throat is a result of his finger pressing against your folds. He runs his digit along your skin, coaxing it perfectly in your sticky succulence that sends a sudden shock of euphoria spiralling all over your body. As he busies himself with swirling his tongue around your sensitive clit, his lips suction perfectly around the skin and he sucks, hard, and his finger slides past your slick folds, earning a cry of delight from you. His finger curls within you and begins pumping in and out of you at a gradual pace but it, mixed with his tongue pressed against your clit, is enough to send you whirling out of control. Your legs are suddenly shaking and, had your leg not been supported by his shoulder, you fear that your knees may have buckled under the pressure
“Ah, Jungkook!” You gasp in a trembling breath. “F━Fuck, nghn━”
The sound is simply divine and Jungkook selfishly wants to hear more. He basks in the way you clench around him, the way you whimper and writhe. Soon he is picking up pace, pumping his finger in you with a reckless abandon and sucking hard at your clit, and it’s almost shameless how fast your sweet release hits you. You’re tumbling over the edge soon after, hips bucking back and forth into his mouth as you chase after your high. Jungkook joins his tongue with his fingers and starts lapping at your walls like he’s eating a full course meal and the new sensation suddenly has you howling.
“Jungkook!” You cry. “Jungkook, I’m━”
You hear him, feel him, hum against your core before it turns into a beautiful moan. He burrows deeper into you, his nose brushing against your clit, eager to carry you to your high, and he does so with ease. As soon as you feel your high rapidly approaching, you let go of all sense of control and welcome it with wide open arms. You’re hit with waves of intense pleasure as you release onto Jungkook’s tongue and finger and, fuck, the sight is even hotter than he could have imagined. He hurries to help you ride out your high, gasps and moans ripping from your throat in a messy cacophony, your hips writhing beneath him. He relents at once when you start to whimper at the oversensitivity and pulls apart, glancing up at you with a glistening mouth, his lips and chin coated with you. He licks at every inch of his face that is shimmering and moans in content.
“Fuck, you taste amazing,” he gasps, his eyes flickering up your dishevelled appearance.
You’re breathing hard, chest rising and falling, and your teeth have bitten down so hard on your lower lip that the flesh is almost swollen. He leans down once more to kiss the inside of your thigh gently and looks up at you through his long lashes. You’re still gasping for air when your hands start tugging at him, trying desperately to pull him back up to you, and he allows you to. When his face is hovering right above yours, you smash your lips hungrily against his for a messy and heated kiss. He grins against your mouth, seemingly enjoying the way you’re biting at his lips, tasting your own cum on the tip of his tongue.
“Tell me what you need from me,” he whispers between your kisses. “What do you want?”
“You,” You gasp. “All of you, fuck. I need you so bad. I’m so wet for you right now; I need you to fuck me.”
His grin shifts into a sly smirk as he hears your pleading whines and he kisses you harder. “Anything for you, baby girl.”
He lets you tackle his neck with harsh kisses and lets your digits trace down his torso to the belt on his pants. You’ve only so much as pushed his pants and boxers down his thighs when both of you grow impatient. His cock pulses, tip angry and red and leaking with milky pre-cum, and you lick your lips at the sight, unable to contain yourself. Your hands reach for his length instantly, fingers brushing against his tip before wrapping firmly around his base. His breath hitches in his throat as you start pumping him, gliding your hand slowly up and down his length, your eyes fixated only on him.
“Fuck,” he grunts abruptly. “Baby girl━”
He pauses and hisses through clenched teeth as you continue. He doesn’t at all expect you to start pleasuring him but he doesn’t mind. In fact, he is carried away as you continue to work your hands against him, jerking him off in just the right pace that he isn’t able to hold himself back. He would have been fine coming right in your perfect hands but he needs more first before he is able to let himself fully go. He struggles to find his words as you begin to quicken your pace, sputtering for air helplessly. He squeezes his eyes shut, gulping hard and trying to focus his attention away from the exaltation he’s receiving.
“Ah, s━slow down, angel,” he breathes. It nearly pains him to pry your hands off of him and when you look at him with those innocent puppy dog eyes, he has to refrain from letting go right then and there.
“What’s wrong?” You ask. “I thought you were enjoying that.”
“No━ I mean, fuck, yes, I was,” he stammers. “But I’m trying not to come undone before I’m filling you up. Fuck, I just need to be in you right now.”
“Then fuck me,” You say boldly. “I’m all yours.”
The words seem to spark a glint in his eyes that entices him to move next. One hand grips at your thigh and lifts it onto his waist, while his other hand pumps himself slowly. Your mewls of euphoria hit his ears in a ringing melody and he waits, patiently, watching as you quiver beneath him, moaning once more. Your teeth sink into your lower lip as you’re held in suspense, waiting for the heavenly contact. When it happens, when you finally feel the tip of his cock push past your folds, your jaw drops open in a silent gap. He pauses then, grunting and hissing as he adjusts to your warmth, before he’s pushing himself into you once more, slowly. He’s perfectly thick, fitting snugly in your core, letting you feel him stretch you open inch by glorious inch. It’s too much for you to handle now, and you can’t help the moan that escapes you.
“Fuck,” You whimper, head lolling back against the windowpane. “Fuck━ I━ I━”
“You’re so wet,” Jungkook grunts. “Shit, you feel amazing.”
You whimper in response and he pushes himself into you the rest of the way until he’s finally buried hilt deep within you. He pauses again, letting you both adjust to the newfound sensation.  He almost collapses against you as he pushes himself deeper into you, grinding against you in slow motions that have your head spinning. He pulls back after a while in one languid stride until only his tip is left buried in your folds before thrusting back into you with enough force to send you tottering forward. He adapts a leisurely pace of thrusting in and out of you so that you can feel him stretch you open all the way until it feels like he’s in the very back of your throat before pulling out and it drives you mad. As your arms wrap around his neck, one of his hands digs into your hips, and the other dances up the front of your chest. It first grasps at one of your breasts, his warm palm wrapping so perfectly around it, before his fingers stretch out amongst your neck.
Favouring a more suitable position, Jungkook comes to one stimulating halt when he thrusts up into you one final time. Momentarily you’re taken from your reverie when he pulls his dripping cock from your folds. Instead, he turns you around and you so easily oblige. He yanks your hips towards him, your ass pressing up firmly against his hips, and then he pushes himself into you once more. Your hands brace yourself as you plant them firmly on the window before you. From this angle, you can see the dazzling lights of the city, and though you know it isn’t possible from this high up, you wonder if any passersby far down below on the streets can see you and Jungkook in such a lewd setting. This time, his pace is fast and precise, his hips angling just right to thrust his cock into you in just the right spot.
“Fuck, baby girl,” he rasps. “Moan for me. Let me hear you.”
There is an internal battle to find your voice, being condemned silent due to the ecstasy that clouds your mind and blocks you from thinking or saying anything reasonable. You swallow hard, all senses focused on the way he’s thrusting into you, picking up speed, the sound of skin against skin and vulgar wet slaps each time he sinks deeper into you. The only way you can describe it is akin to feeling your head being set ablaze and sending it’s flickering flames all over your body and make the dazzling lights of the city blur in with the stars. When he thrusts into you the next time, he is suddenly hitting an angle that has something erupting in you and has you plummeting forward, jaw ripping open. You cry out as you flail forward, your hands slipping from their hold against the window.
“A━Ah, f━fuck,” You hiss. “Jungkook! J━Jungkook━ I’m━”
Your voice is drowned out by another loud moan and the sound is so angelic, so clear, that Jungkook yearns to hear more. He pulls your waist closer to him because there is no way you can find the strength to prop yourself up any longer when it just feels so amazing. His movements become more erratic, messy as he fumbles for your high and his. His warm fingers continue to tug at your ass, your waist, anything to hold you closer to him. But soon even he can’t hold himself together. With the way you clench so tightly around him, he begins sputtering for air. Soon, he has you pressed shamelessly all the way against the window, your cheek laying flat against the cool glass, and his own chest lays taut against your back. His self-indulgent hands snake around your front and push apart your thighs so that he can rub the heel of his palm against your clit. That, mixed with his teeth sinking absentmindedly into your shoulder, and the feeling of his twitching cock buried deep within your core is enough to have you a moaning and whimpering mess.
When he pulls out of you this time, it is to pull you back towards the king-sized bed. In the process, you help him kick off the stubborn remaining material of his pants. He’s only managed to make it as far being seated at the edge of the bed, with you straddling his hips and sitting prettily in his lap, when you eagerly reach down to run his length along your folds. Jungkook is too caught up in the pleasure to even bother to stop you, watching as you grip his shoulders tightly, and ride him in his lap with a reckless abandon. Your actions are desperate, eager. He wraps his arms around your waist, holding you tightly against him, and all you can hear is the vulgar wet sound of his length slipping in and out. It’s disorganized, frantic, desperate, hot, as both of you chase your highs. It hits you first after already being spent from your first orgasm, as if you had just ran straight into a brick wall, and has you completely unprepared. It starts at your core and sparks outward, like electricity flowing through your veins and bones. Your stomach unravels at the feeling, your core tightening around his length and the tight confinement has Jungkook moaning and wheezing for air.
“Jungkook!” You cry. “Fuck!”
You reach your high moments later, coming around his length and coating every inch of him in your sweet release as it leaks out of you, chanting his name over and over again in a beautiful mantra that he finds himself indulging in. The way your high overwhelms your senses has you seeing stars, your head spinning, as your body writhes in his ironclad hold. Jungkook nearly collapses against you at the feeling of your kegel muscles flexing around him, his hands pawing at your back in an attempt to keep a hold on reality. It’s the way your orgasm seems to hit you that has your core pulsating around him, even as you try to come down from your high only to feel the pleasurable ache that is his hard cock buried deep within you. He pulls out then, far too quickly for your liking, but he fumbles to gingerly push you over and you follow suit until you’re laying on your back. He takes no time to position himself back over his entrance, kneeling between your legs, and pushes himself into you once more with a wet squelch. You’re met with a feeling of oversensitivity, but you buck your hips forward, probing him to his release.
“Ah, Jungkook,” You whimper. “Mmm, come for me, baby.”
Your indigent hands tug at his arms, his torso, anything in your reach to have him closer to you and he happily obliges, propping himself up with his elbows. He combs your hair away from your face and kisses your lips tenderly. He pulls his length out of you only to slam his hips back in and rattling you to the bone. You squeak involuntarily, your mouth peppering his jawline and neck with love bites. His thrusts are still quick, desperate almost, as he lusts for his release. The tenderness in your core met with his hard pumps have you sinking your teeth down into his shoulder and he hisses. His hand finds your chin then and he delicately pulls you apart from him before making you face him.
“Keep looking at me, baby girl, okay?” he rasps before cursing under his breath.
You nod meekly, finding solace in gnawing on your lower lip as your eyes make contact with his. The sight has Jungkook nearly coming then and there and how can he not when your hooded eyes are fixated on him, sleepy and innocent, completely fucked out, and you’re sucking hard on your lip. Jungkook has a similar look of exhaustion painted on his face, his eyebrows scrunched together in hard concentration and his lips parting ever so slightly for you to see his gritting teeth. Beads of sweat form on his forehead and yours and suddenly the room is stifling hot, warming your face and body completely. Soon, the oversensitivity you feel soothes into something softer, more pleasurable, and it doesn’t affect you nearly as much. You jut your hips forward then, urging him on and he moans.
“Y/N━ Oh, shit━”
A whimper falls from Jungkook’s lips and it’s so surprising, so hot, that you nearly come again. He’s picking up his pace, snapping his hips messily into yours. He comes only moments later, finally reaching his perfect bliss, and it has him plummeting his hips once more into yours before he’s releasing his hot sticky seed into you. The room is filled with both of your moans, mixed with his breathy groans of your name. His weight gives out beneath him and he falls on top of you though he rocks his hips into yours tiredly to ride out his high until he is finally at peace, boneless from within you. Once he has calmed down from his high, he slumps fully against your chest, his face buried in your collarbone, and the room finally goes silent.
All that fills the air is the sound of both of your wheezing pants and your shrilly beating heart that you are certain even Jungkook can hear. The room is warm, the smell of sex stale in the air, but there is a sheen of pure white elatedness that has you sighing in content. Your fingers rake through Jungkook’s sweaty hair and the silence, with the added warmth of his body laying over yours, almost lulls you to sleep. You’re drifting in and out of consciousness when Jungkook presses his lips to your collarbone and then lifts his head to kiss your own lips. Your eyes flicker open then and you find him smiling down at you and the sight is so radiating, so ardent, that you can’t help but mirror it tiredly. He pulls out of you then and you hiss at the sudden emptiness and the way his milky cum leaks out of you and down your thighs. He stands to his feet, tossing on his underwear, before leaning down to whisper, “I’ll be right back, baby girl, don’t worry.”
He disappears out the room but you don’t know where until he returns a minute later with a damp cloth in hand. He climbs the bed next to you and then he begins to gently wipe at your core with the cloth, making you hum in satisfaction. He finds you smiling at him when he finally looks back up at you and quirks a brow, tilting his head to the side.
“What?” he asks.
“Oh, nothing,” You chuckle lightly, though you’re certain he knows his gentle gestures have your heart bursting with joy. “Come here.”
He does as you say, reclining back on the bed and opening his arms to invite you in. You wiggle closer to his body until you’re pressed up against his side, your head nuzzling into his chest; his own arm wraps around your waist and his other hand lets his fingers run up and down your spine in comforting circles. That, and the sound of his gently thudding heart, is what carries you to sleep that night.
When you awake in the morning, it is to the coarse and wet tongue of Gureum lapping at your cheek. The shimmering sunlight drifts in through Jungkook’s shut blinds and dusts your body in a golden light and heat. It, and Gureum, rouses you back to reality and has you giggling sleepily as you see the small white dog perched up next to you on the bed. Your reach for him to scratch behind his ears as your eyes focus on Jungkook laying just beyond the dog. He’s already awake, gazing up at you with dreary eyes and a soft smile.
“Good morning,” You yawn.
“Morning,” he replies.
He kisses your forehead and you smile once more, folding into him as you hug Gureum close to you. It’s silent again after that and it feels so strange to have everything feel so normal. To be cuddling with Jungkook and his dog in his bed with him after a night of making love, and it is almost as if you were supposed to be there from the very beginning. It was comfortable, it was simple, it was easy ━ and you loved every single second of it. His hand finds yours and your fingers lace together flawlessly and you’re so content with falling back asleep that you nearly miss Jungkook when he speaks next.
“Do you remember what I said to you at the lounge when I first brought up this whole thing?” he asks.
It takes you a moment to think back to that day which seems so far away. His gaze is fixated on your clasped hands but you’re already staring at him.
“The rules?”
He nods slowly. “Do you remember how I said we shouldn’t fall in love?”
You can already sense where the conversation is going and it has your throat swelling, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yes.”
Jungkook finally looks at you, his dark chocolate eyes locking with your own pupils. “Well,” he trails off. “I’m pretty sure I broke that rule because I’m falling in love with you.”
His confession startles you completely, hitting you all at once. You gasp in response, eyes widening in surprise, and you can only hope he isn’t able to hear the frantic beating of your heart.
“When did you break it?”
That is all you can muster, but it doesn’t seem to disappoint Jungkook. He smiles sheepishly, his eyes flickering up to the ceiling.
“Would you call me insane if I said that very night at the lounge?” he asks.
“No,” You reply, catching his attention once more. “Because I’m fairly certain that’s when I started falling for you, too.”
Jungkook’s face begins to light up and it is the first time you have seen him as happily genuine as he is there. His smile radiates the same warmth and glory of the sun and he watches you in a shimmering lovelight as you look away, face flushing, and fingers tracing patterns on his bare chest.
“Can we make another deal?” You ask faintly.
“Of course, anything,” he says.
“Can we━ Can we give us a try?” You inquire.
Jungkook laughs. “You didn’t have to ask. I thought it was already a given that we would give us a try after we said we both have feelings for each other.”
You smile again and look up at him. “But there’s more.”
“What is it, baby girl?”
“I just━” You pause and then push yourself over onto your stomach from beneath the soft sheets. Gureum skips over to the edge of the bed and sits at the very end of your feet. “I want to give us a try without your money getting in the way. I mean, I don’t need you ━ or want you ━ to pay for me to be by your side. I want this to be real and genuine.”
“Of course,” he complies. “This is just you and me now. But, that being said, I’m still obligated to spoil my baby girl rotten every now and then with gifts and there’s nothing you can do to stop me. You still deserve to be treated like a princess.”
You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head at him. You kiss him once more, short and quick, and mumble against his lips a very faint, “Deal. But, on one condition.”
“Go on,” he hums.
“You let me take you out on a coffee date today and let me pay for the both of us this time with my own money,” You say.
Jungkook grins wide and nods enthusiastically. “That sounds perfect. Anything you want, I’ll do.”
You find it hard to look away from Jungkook after that, and you’re certain you find yourself falling even more in love with him then. His golden tan illuminates under the glittering sunlight and you want nothing more than to be in that moment forever where it is just you and Jungkook, Jungkook and you.
“First thing’s first, though,” Jungkook says at long last. “How about we start the morning off right with a round two from last night in the shower right now. What do you say?”
His proposition has you laughing so suddenly that it startles Gureum at the edge of the bed. You lean down again to kiss Jungkook’s irresistible lips. When you part, you catch his mischievous stare and his broad grin and mirror it.
“Well,” You say, “I have always said you like to spoil me rotten.”
“Well,” Jungkook echoes with a chuckle. He shrugs innocently as he speaks next, pressing a chilling kiss to your neck. “Only the best for my baby girl.”
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nochueso · a month ago
Rich People Shit
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➱ summary: I really just wanted to write rich!Jungkook. Jungkook approaches you with a proposition of friendship. He wants to spoil you shitless with designer everything, and you both end up really fucking liking each other.
➱ word count: 11k
➱ genres: smut, fluff, rich!jk x reader
➱ includes: cursing, unprotected sex (be safe out there yall), virgin!jk, virgin!reader, literally smut idk what to say rlly you're either gonna read it or not lol!
Silently, you sat on the steps of the entrance to a very pristine, very flamboyant, and affluent University. You never thought you’d ever be here nor did you think you’d be sitting on its steps– like an actual student. Yet, here you sit, quietly, mysteriously, with a dash of pride, paging through the “Luxury” magazine in your lap. You sighed for a second, looking away from the glossy pages to take in your surroundings from the top of your sunglasses. You squinted, watching the students parade by. You could tell, you weren’t like them, you may even never be. You may dress like them, talk like them, walk like them, act like them, but on the inside you are not one of them.
On paper, you are not one of them either. You are not a student here.
You looked back at your magazine.
Surely, you applied last year, friends and family pestered you to at least give it a try, then you had actually thought you had a chance. But you see, when you’re not a trust fund baby, or have parents with cash basically flowing out of their assholes, then you really did not have a chance at this school built on classism and wealth. So why were you even here? The thing is, you might actually be a mastermind, or you may just be naively stupid.
You came here to fish.
You were still a student, just not here, your shabbier university– for the commoners– was just a few blocks away, so it was always easy for you to come here between classes, to get your work done, or just contemplate nothing.
There isn’t a pond or lake at this school, nor is there a river or fishing pier. You came here for a very specific kind of fish. Fish without gills. Fish that don’t spend their lives in water. Fish that can walk. Fish with a specific kind of gait that oozes an overflowing bank account. A handsome little fish. A handsome little fish that can make your dreams of owning pieces of fucking name brand clothing true.
Some Gucci to be specific. You like Gucci, maybe even some Dior, and Alexander Wang. You nodded silently at the reminder of your motives.
Today was your fourth Thursday sitting on these god awful steps that pierced your ass bones. Pelvis? Who cares, you’re not an anatomy major. If that’s even a thing– biology, pre-med, most likely is what it’s called.
That means this is your fourth week, and it’s once again coming to a near end. Four weeks. Still no fish. You remind yourself that fishing requires patience. Fishing requires a careful skill of observation and strict mental control. You need to be ready for the slightest tug. The slightest tug of your prey taking the bait you’ve so carefully laid out for them. Your bait was you of course. Who wouldn’t want a taste of you? Well...that wasn’t the best question to ask. Let’s rephrase that. Who wouldn’t want a taste of a classy mystery woman sitting on the steps of a school where only cream of the crop students go? That sounded better. You were oozing confidence out of your pores as you sat on those demonic stairs, your black sunglasses shielding your eyes from the cloudy sky. And your outfit, oh golly gee your outfit... Only the best of the best from your closet ever gets to see these steps. These fucking ste–
“What language is that?”
In the midst of your tumultuous thoughts, you failed to take note of the random stranger who came to sit to your left. Nonchalantly staring over to your magazine, seemingly interested in whatever the hell you were reading. You questioned whether you should even look over, whether you should feign ignorance to push your “mystery” woman agenda. You didn’t have very strong self-restraint. So you turned...slightly. Your face in the direction of his feet, your eyes are however on his.
Jesus, this man was fucking hot. Diabolically so. You had a hot flash just by looking at him. You started getting dizzy too, there were stars flying around him. Perhaps you just got hemorrhoids from how satanically sexy this man was in the face. And you didn’t even get to the rest of him yet. You hoped the rest of him wouldn’t disappoint you. You see, perfect people are rare, it’s either they have a pretty face or a pretty bod. He probably had a missing toe or something with that perfect face of his.
Your answer was simple. Disregard.
You flipped to the next page. Your hands are nearly shaking from the pressure of this ridiculously gorgeous man’s eyes on you. You could feel him drilling holes through you with those evil brown sex eyes. You tried to steady yourself, as unnoticeably as possible. ‘Remember your goal, remember your destiny!’ The voice inside your head yelled.
When he didn’t leave, even after you had ignored his existence, and effect on you, this was your chance to find out if the fish really took the bait and got fucking stuck on it.
“Is there something you need?” You trailed your eyes back to him, once again feigning distaste and annoyance.
He looked down for a bit. You bit your bottom lip, not sure whether you had hurt him with your words. Then he looked out towards the green park in front of you both: a number of students having picnics and walking around in friend groups.
“Trying to talk to people today is so hard. No one wants a stranger coming up to them, it’s not normal anymore. Everyone meets on instagram and snapchat and twitter, sliding into DMs and all that.” He speaks in a low voice, melancholic almost. His elbows on the steps behind him, resting. Fuck he was sexy. You could tell he was genuine. He got up. Shit shit shit shit.
He placed his hands in his pockets, “Just wanted to talk to a pretty girl.” He smiled, his eyes drowning you in guilt. With that he turned around, slowly stepping down the stairs.
“It’s French.” You called out after him. the classic romance language you had chosen to learn as your language requirement. It’s not like you understood much of it, but looking at pretty pictures and deciphering a word and a sentence every now and then was fun, and you used it to convince yourself that you were actually learning from it. You weren’t.
His head turned back towards you, rapidly, with one of the most magnificent smiles you’d ever laid eyes upon. The butterflies in your stomach were having a field day. He came back and sat next to you, this time a bit closer. Close enough to where you could smell him. A sweet smell, not the usual smell of cologne that most men wore. He was wearing ladies perfume. It was odd, but it made you feel more relaxed, like there was no way this man could ever do anything wrong.
“So, are you a linguist major here?” He badgered you with another question. Like a child that had just won a prize at a carnival game. Why he was making assumptions about you was beyond you. It was a bit bothersome though, you never liked when people would ask assumptive questions, why don’t they let you give the details.
“I’m not, if we’re going to talk please stop making assumptions.” You sighed.
“Sorry. My name is Jungkook. And now I’m gonna stop talking and let you tell me about yourself instead...if you want to. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.” Nervous, that was cute.
“Well...” You looked at him. Unsure of what to tell him. You didn’t want to lie. You hated lying, and you didn’t understand the point of it. Why lie about yourself to others when you can just hide the truth. When you can be deceiving just by saying the right things and leaving the rest out. However though, you were feeling rather bold today, like, you didn’t really give a fuck. Though his face looked so fucking kissable, delectable, ravishing, his outift was rather plain, and one thing you knew about the kids at this school was that they didn’t love anything more than to show off with daddy’s money. The man before you was just wearing a black shirt, black baggy pants and black sneakers. Very simple. Was he just being modest perhaps? Humble. Or was he one of the affirmative action kids? A super smart athlete from a poor home on a full scholarship? Or maybe just a smart kid that got in from his own diligence, from a lower middle class family?
“I’m fishing.” Your words made him raise his eyebrows, perplexed.
“Fishing for what?” You were expecting him to assume something again, but he didn’t, he kept his word, letting you answer.
“Rich little assholes with too much money to spend, so I can offer some assistance in spending that money.” Your eyes squinted with a hint of evil genius.
He laughed. A roar almost. His head was thrown back and his teeth, eerily similar to those of a bunny’s, were now on display, he’s adorable. You flushed, elated, that you made this beautiful human being laugh. You could add this to your bucket list and check it off now if you even had one, ‘1. Make a super, incredibly, sexy, hot, cute, handsome, pretty guy laugh.’ In the box next to it a little check mark to display your success. But your mouth turned into a frown, confused on why he was laughing at your meticulously thought out plan that was sure to score you some sweet sweet cash.
“How’s that going for you?” He said through giggles.
“Not great, haven’t gotten a single fish yet, unfortunately.”
“Why are you doing this, if I may ask?”
“Well, it’s not like I want to get married to them or anything. I guess my reasoning is quite materialistic. I just want some Gucci pieces that I’ve been thinking of for the last two months. I’ve got five-k in my savings, and half the shit on here costs five thousand bucks.” You slap the magazine page in front of you with the back of your palm, like an old smoker upset that his lighter is out of fluid. “The other half more than that. So I had to devise a plan, obviously.” You shrug as if it were obvious and you were explaining to a five year old. You just spilled the entirety of your reasoning to this man you’ve known for five minutes. You should’ve stopped yourself, but there was just something about him that made you tell all the truth, not just tiny bits of it.
That was all he said to you, no laugh this time, not even a giggle or a smile. This time he just looked at you. Glazed over you. Studied you. You felt nervous. You removed your sunglasses, in hopes of looking less ridiculous on a cloudy day. You didn’t notice it, but his eyes sharpened. You worried that you may have scared him off, maybe he was a rich prick and your poverty disgusted him.
Jungkook thought that he had scored. He’d noticed you the first day you sat on those stairs, those stairs that were too tough to sit on, so you were usually the only one on them, he wondered if you were actually comfortable. You were impossible not to be noticed, but maybe that was just him. He always saw you paging through a new magazine, he wondered if you were a fashion student, the way you dressed and the specific magazines that you always seemed to bring.
One could say he had created narratives in his head about you, he gave you a personality, a name, a major, he undressed you with his ey–
He wanted to get to know you. He had spent his past time between classes in his usual spot by the tall, ancient tree at the edge of the park placed perfectly in front of you. And so, he spent each day there, and so did you, and he was delighted to know that he would see you each day, except on weekends. The class he would leave to come here, Economics 101, a pain in the ass, but it ended at 11:45 am every other day. So on the days he had this class, he would be prepared to speed walk, sometimes even sprint out of the classroom at precisely 11:45 each time. He was always the first to walk through the exit doors, just so he wouldn’t miss a single second to see you. Maybe it was creepy, or maybe it was just what they called “Le coup de foudre” he mouthed. Love at first sight.
He knew you weren’t a student here because every student here had tried sitting on those stairs every once in a while, but they’d always find a better place around campus to idle in. You, on the other hand, always returned to the exact same spot, but he couldn’t figure you out. He couldn’t understand why you constantly returned there. So one final day, he ventured out, to finally crack the case, and shatter every other possible story he had created in his mind palace, and perhaps build a real one, where it would be just you and him.
“French,” you had said. But he obviously already knew this. Who couldn’t recognize one of the most famous languages to exist on this earth. He hoped you didn’t think he was stupid, but it would be fare anyways, since you were holding the magazine upside down. He was relieved though, that you had called out for him to return. You gave him a chance, and he wouldn’t waste it.
You shared your diabolical evil genius plan with him, and he was appreciative of the fact that you were so honest with him. He was able to finally connect the last red string to the correct picture on the detective board in his head. But it took him a minute to figure out you weren’t joking.
“Interesting,” he had said. Quizzically studying you when you had spilled your entire scheme to him without a single laugh or even a giggle, snortle, chuckle, swift inhale. Nothing. So he knew you weren’t kidding. Your lip quivered like you had regretted telling him all this information. So, he decided to make an appropriate proposition, a proposition of friendship.
“I’ll buy you whatever you want.”
He watched as you stared at him, mouth slightly agape like you were torn between believing his offer or breaking out in a boisterous laugh. He needed to be a bit more convincing.
“You have five-k in your savings, I have fifty million.” He shifted his gaze from your bewildered face to your upside-down magazine. For someone that was so nonchalant a few minutes ago, you weren’t holding up too well now. He thought about how you wouldn’t actually be able to go through with your plan had it actually been one of these other rich trust fund assholes you had aforementioned. Because first of all, they wouldn’t have stuck around after your first act of obtuseness. He grabbed the magazine out of your nimble fingers, flipped it over, and went back a page. The designer pieces that were seducing you not that long ago, and he brought out his phone that sat in his front pocket. Dialed the little number that hid at the bottom of the page, and you both sat patiently as it rang next to his ear.
“Yes hello, I’d like to purchase the Gucci wool coat with leather details in your...” He flipped the magazine to see its cover. “Luxury twenty twenty-one Spring issue magazine....Yes....Yes the one that costs forty-five hundred...” He glanced over you for a moment to register your reaction, raising an eyebrow as you had your bottom lip between your teeth. Something in him ignited.
“Actually, can you add everything else too? Yes, I’d like to purchase all your uhhh... Gucci and Alexander Wang, Bottega Veneta, Zimmermann, Dior and Chanel pieces on display in your magazine as well...Am I sure? Yes...Oh um..” He glanced back to you, this time seriously eyeing you like a piece of meat. But he was just trying to figure out what kind of size you probably wore. “Can you send (Y/N's usual size) and (a size smaller)? We’ll try them on and return the ones that don’t fit...Yes...Just charge my account Jeon Jungkook, I’m already a member...Yes same shipping address...Thank you.” With his final thanks, he hung up, closed the magazine, and turned to face you.
He found you stuttering something but every time a word came to your tongue you closed your mouth, prohibiting it from escaping the gates of your mind. Jungkook grinned, not a sly grin, not a smirk, a grin of amusement, like he had never seen a sight so rewarding. He understood you now. You weren’t rude, or mean, or crude, you were a sweetheart, a gentle soul, a naive one too. You didn’t think things through, yet you had an immense amount of motivation, that wasn’t something that goes hand in hand but you were lucky, it worked for you. You had put up an act, a poor one at that. You were probably a goofball, the way you hadn’t even been paying attention to your magazine, probably too lost in thought to care for it anymore.
“It’ll all be at my house by tomorrow evening if you want to come pick it up.” He placed the magazine back into your nimble fingers.
Jungkook had no evil intentions or plans, he was truly a genuine guy, kind and endearing once you knew him, he would never try anything that would make you uncomfortable which is why he didn’t ask for your address to send it to.
“Do...” You paused. “Do you want something in return?” You asked. Now Jungkook was hit with a wave of anguish. He knew exactly what you were thinking, or at least he had an idea, you were terrified, and that was the very last thing he wanted. He could see the way you gripped your hands together to keep them from trembling, and he nearly dropped to his knees in apologies. He knew you probably thought that by doing this he had forced you into some sort of putrid debt that you’d be demanded to repay in various forms, and oh did he not want that.
“No!” He nearly yelled, his voice unexpectedly louder than he wanted. “No, I don’t want anything, it’s all yours, I just didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable if I asked for your address to send it to.” He waved his hands, not taking a single breath between words. He surely did not want this to be the last time you saw each other, so he did his best.
Oh you were trembling alright. Trembling because you couldn’t hold yourself back much longer from swallowing this man whole right then and there. A small inch inside of you had actually hoped for Jungkook to ask for something in return, even if it was just a cup of coffee, you wouldn’t have even minded if he was an asshole because you would let him ruin you. There was just something about money that made you squirm, pleasantly. You know that money apparently doesn’t buy happiness, but it sure as hell bought something inside of you, and that face of his helped in swaying you even further.
“Alright.” You laughed.
“So, why Gucci? I personally prefer H&M.” He asked
“I can tell.” You gestured to his all-black ensemble with your eyes.
“I’m not going to take that as an insult because you look like you’re dressed for a runway show right now, but you’re sitting on some butt aching steps.”
“Well thank you, I take pride in my outfits. And I don’t know, do you have something softer to sit on?”
“Depends.” He said. You raised your eyebrow, challenging him.
“On?” You persisted him, eager to hear the very obvious answer to his obnoxious yet somewhat endearing flirtatious remark.
He doesn’t answer you, instead choosing to rub his palms across his thighs, as if they were slick with sweat, looking at you then away with a teasing grin. You wanted to wipe it off his face.
The both of you spent the rest of the day chattering on about each other while he showed you his favorite hiding places on campus. He told you stories about his many extravagant trips with his just as extravagant family and friends because you asked him to. And you in turn told him about the numerous shenanigans you pulled at your previous part-time jobs, always ending up in trouble one way or another because you didn’t like the way the customer spoke at you.
“No way!” You exclaimed, your hand slapping his bicep.
“My thoughts exactly!” He laughed, his hand coming up to hold his ear.
“I didn’t actually think rich people were that stupid, wow.” You gleamed at him. “No offense to you.”
He clutched his chest to signify the cliche look of hurt. “I’m actually at the top of all my classes.”
“And I’m a porn star with a side hustle of being the queen of Australia.” You teased.
“Wouldn’t that just be the queen of England?”
“Which one?” You both burst out laughing, loud boisterous laughs that quickly turned into snorts and chortles, mixing into indecipherable sounds that could be used as background noise for a ritual.
Jungkook had ended up walking you all the way to the cafe that was next to your campus dorms, a gentleman.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, I hope?” He said,.
“You will.” You replied with a smile. Jungkook thought that your smile could make the brightest star in the universe cower in defeat.
Jungkook took a single step back, preparing to take his leave but unable to take his eyes off you until you were the one to turn and depart. And it was quick. A peck on the cheek and you were running. Fleeing the scene of the crime where your dignity was killed in action. And Jungkook stood suspended, his hand on his cheek, a smile on his lips, and he knew then, that there was no way he’d be able to stop thinking about you.
You laid in bed reminiscing about today's events. When Jungkook had turned out to be a total sweetheart you were caught completely off guard. You were thinking he would ask you for sex or something, some sort of fuck buddy relationship perhaps, and that in return he’d shower you in extravagant gifts. Perhaps he was just doing a good deed. Helping the needy. But he had invited you to come to his home. So this wasn’t the last time he wanted to see you, and this made you excited. You weren’t sure what to do next though, you didn’t have much experience in this...area. Never haven taken interest in anyone because they just never seemed to satisfy your plethora of expectations, and you never lowered your standards. Then you thought about the kiss, or peck, whatever that crime of passion was. You were able to catch a glimpse of Jungkook’s face before you booked it, gone behind a building, and what you saw was the sweet shock of fondness. He didn’t hate it, and you were zealous.
On the other end, Jungkook could barely contain himself, he’d be seeing you again tomorrow. Don’t even get him started with the kiss, he had nearly grabbed you and given you a proper one, but you were gone too quickly. Even if you didn’t run, he would’ve still kept to himself, not wanting to push you into anything you didn’t want, allowing you to show him what you were comfortable with.
Friday evening came quickly. And as you approached Jungkook’s home, a literal mansion that cost you thirty bucks in an uber to get to, you thought about your plan. In all honestly, you didn’t have one even though you had ample time to think of one on your ride here, you came up blank. Because of your awfully picky nature in men, you had little to no experience, and right now you were coming up empty and decided to opt for plan B: let the lady make the decisions! By lady you meant your punani. If she wanted to go wild with this heavenly looking man then so be it. Even though you were most likely not going to be getting into bed with him tonight and entrancing him with your magical pussy, you still wore your favorite pieces of lingerie– the best that your broke college student money could buy. And so you put on your fake-it-till-you-make-it confidence and sashayed over to his three-meter tall doors. You rang the doorbell.
Within a minute you were met with his sweet smile. The smile you didn’t know you missed. And your eyes were naturally pulled towards it. And now your eyes were on his lips, and you watched as he licked them, and now you wanted to lick them. You were like a child, eyeing candy. You let your eyes drop lower, today he was wearing a tighter shirt, the type that was loose towards the abdomen but was tight at his arms because his arms were powerful– he was stacked. That was the men’s equivalence of a whore shirt. He was being a whore. You noticed the tattoo sleeve on his right arm, and you knew this man was actually perfect. He had no missing toe.
And Jungkook watched you. He knew you were checking him out because he was checking you out too. The way you bit your lip when you saw him lick his. His eyes naturally fell to your exposed legs, and were you carrying a pretty set.
“Hi, I’m glad you came.” He said.
“Me too.” The tension between you two strangling any other words that could be spoken, instead letting each other’s eyes battle to the death.
Jungkook stepped aside to let you in. You marveled at the interior of his home. Overwhelmed by how much it must have all cost. “Holy shit.” You felt a hand on the small of your back.
“Your items are in my room, I can have them packed up for you if you want?” Jungkook said, bringing you back to your senses.
But you didn’t, you wanted to spend as much time with him as you could because if you were being honest, you wanted to get to know him (too). You wanted to understand his motives, why he did it, and why he approached you.
“No, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to try them on first.” You gently touched his arm, the one that was on your back, the one laced in beautiful works of art. There was a certain awkwardness in the air now.
So with that, Jungkook led you up to his room, up the huge marble spiral stairs, down the hallway, and at the very end, the third door to your right, was his little cove. It definitely was not little. His tremendous cove. He had a king-sized bed at the very end of his room, and there was probably enough room for twenty more of those. And by his bed was the entrance to his closet, next to the closet entrance were three clothing racks filled with clothes, and beside those were a couple of purses and bags and smaller boxes. And he had beautiful huge windows on the west wall, opposite from the door you entered through. The windows basically took up the entirety of the wall, and your thoughts ran wild.
“I never got to ask but, why?” You looked at him. He was already looking at you. And you think you caught him. His head was slightly tilted and his eyes were on yours, and you saw a faint smirk, and a lip bite, and you think that for a second you were hallucinating because as quickly as you saw it, it just as quickly disappeared.
“Why did I buy you those things?” He pointed his chin to the clothes in the corner of the room. And you forgot how beautifully sculpted Jungkook was, his side profile a perfect silhouette.
“Yes.” You whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear, so he came closer.
“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you.” He was a head away from bumping into yours, and his eyes were pacing back and forth between yours and your lips, which were now pinker from the blood rushing towards them. But you whispered again because you wanted him even closer, “Yes.” But he didn’t move, sadly.
“You wanted to waste some jerk’s money, so I offered mine.” It was then that he stepped closer, and you could feel his breath on your skin. “I don’t think I’m much of a jerk though, sorry if you were looking for that too.” He added in a lower tone, one you had to pay attention to in order to catch every vibration. Your breathing became ragged, shaky and you weren’t sure if he was doing this on purpose.
“I wasn’t, I don’t really like jerks actually.” You moved your arm, gently placing it on his chest. Jungkook took it as a warning, do not wander further than my palm. He wasn’t sure why, but he surely didn’t want to mistake it for an invitation.
“Where can I try them on?” You smiled.
“There’s a walking closet right next to the racks, feel free to use it.” He took a step back.
“Thank you.”
“Or you could just use my room.” Jungkook froze, he wasn’t sure if he had actually said that out loud. It was just a passing thought in his head, and now he was mortified. He searched your eyes fervently for a reaction.
“Thank you for the offer, Jungkook, I’ll keep that in mind.” You took it as another one of Jungkook’s obnoxious jokes, like eighty percent of your conversations with Jungkook usually entailed. But silently, you wished he wasn’t joking.
Jungkook, however, felt his soul rise from his body and go far, far away. The way his name rolled off your tongue like a sweet melody, he would do anything to hear that again. He hadn’t even noticed any of the other words you said like they were all blurred except for his name, and it drove him crazy. You left him standing there, like a frozen popsicle. But your hand burned, it pulsated, from being on his chest, from feeling him flex under your palm, and it was exhilarating. You wanted to feel him again, but next time without a piece of clothing blocking the sensation.
Jungkook wasn’t used to bringing women home, the last time a girl was in his room was before his sixth grade dance, and it was only because she was amongst the rest of his little friend group. They were all going to the dance together, and Jungkook had told them he had snacks in his room, so they all rushed up to get some before leaving. Pathetic surely, for someone his age. But he never cared enough to go out of his way to find someone to share the majority of his time with, he never thought he needed to. He was always given everything he wanted or needed from birth, and until four weeks ago he didn’t realize that he did in fact want one more thing. Or perhaps he needed it? Love at first sight, what an idiotic concept.
For someone like Jungkook, it wasn’t uncommon to get married the moment he graduated, to another crazy rich person. In these circumstances, you marry someone you could tolerate, someone easy on the eyes too, and you just hope to see that person as little as possible. So you both have affairs, multiple, and it’s no secret, everyone knows, even friends, and family, they all know. It always made Jungkook’s stomach churn, at the mere thought of it all, the lack of integrity. He had met plenty of good-looking, rich, women, but they never seemed to stimulate him mentally. It was always a ‘Jungkook you’re so funny!’ and a firm grip of his thigh, when all he had said was that he didn’t care where they’d go eat, they could just watch Netflix instead. And he’d look at them, detached, then hail that he wasn’t feeling too well, and retire to his room. And the girls would always leave. They’d freshen up their lipstick as if they had another scheduled date before stepping out the door.
Jungkook was surely the black sheep of his family, his entire environment, and not in a bad way. He just didn’t behave like the others, he didn’t share their same mentality. Jungkook preferred to meditate than to go clubbing, he preferred to go to a local cafe than on a jet to Singapore for the weekend. Yes, he had seen and done his fair share of rich people things, but he was still always grateful for the plate of food that his personal chef would place in front of him, bowing to show his gratitude. Obviously, the staff in Jungkook’s home were all incredibly fond of him because of that, knowing this little prince from birth, watching him grow into a genuine and respectful young man.
Truthfully, Jungkook wasn’t really aware of the effect he had on people. He was a charmer, but he was kind too. So everything he ever said, whether it be a compliment, or a random remark on the nice weather, he meant it all one hundred percent. But Jungkook also didn’t say much, which is why he was never able to be properly understood by anyone but his family, staff, and very close friends, and maybe now even you. With you, Jungkook didn’t even feel the need to sat much, the glances you shared seem to fill in forty percent of your conversations. A single glance could mean you two would start barking like rabid dogs, or it could mean a ‘shut the fuck up you can’t be serious’, or even a ‘I will actually punch a hole in your smug little face right now.’
When you walked out of his closet with the first full outfit that fit, he was laying on his bed, hands behind his head and he jumped up at the sound of your entrance. You posed ridiculously for him and giggled. You were happy, and that was all he wanted. He winked, then whistled, eyeing you. You knew he was joking but you couldn’t help but blush, this was his effect, this was what he did to you. And now you really wanted to kiss him, and he really wanted to kiss you, but he didn’t want you to think that was what he did all this for because it wasn’t. He didn’t want you to think that was all he had wanted.
You both quickly fell into conversation, loudly speaking to each other through the thick doors of the closet. Every now and then you’d poke your half-dressed head through the doors to say something or make sure you heard Jungkook correctly, a ‘What?’ and ‘Harhar very funny’ spoken every now and then. Jungkook now stood by the doors with his back against the wall and face towards the ceiling. And you’d think you were going crazy with the way he would look at you, like he had never seen something so divine. He’d never say anything, no ‘You look beautiful’ or even a ‘Wow’, none, he would just stare in awe with his mouth slightly ajar. And you would chuckle, every time. The both of you didn’t seem to be too good with words, never able to quite find any to properly use in describing your feelings.
So when you finally asked him, “How do I look?” he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you closer, and said with the most serious look on his face, “Like the queen of Australia.” And you stared at each other, in disbelief, both of your eyes racing each other to look from one to the other, both your lips perked and quivering with the familiar wave of a roar that was surely soon to burst through the both of you. Like an explosion, the glee was released. You grabbed his shoulders to keep you balanced as you threw your head backward, your upper body following. And Jungkook was able to open his eyes slightly, through the tears he ogled at your neck, then at your face that shared an image of pure joy. He admired the way your lips parted way for your teeth, and the scrunches on your nose, the smile lines that led from the edge of your nose to the edge of your lips.
“You’re funny.” You said, dazed out of your mind and knocking on his chest, the dopamine coursing through your brain surely mixed with some oxytocin. And it was the same for Jungkook. You thought about the way his hands felt on your waist, leaving a ghostish touch, gentle and comforting.
“Wouldn’t it be even funnier if I kissed you right now?” His eyes were staring at yours with rapt attention. And you answered with an energetic nod, like you had been waiting for this question for years.
It was quick, his lips were on yours, soft, gentle. They glided against yours almost too perfectly like they belonged to you. Jungkook couldn’t get enough of the feeling of your mouth on his, so he was kissing you deeper, more fervently, like he didn’t even need to breathe. Your breaths fanned each other, exasperated sighs as you both inhaled every five seconds for air because you refused to separate. Jungkook felt a warmth blossom within him, the feeling of your arms wrapping around his head to pull him in closer. The two of you began clumsily stumbling towards his bed, the back of Jungkook’s knees hitting the edge first and he fell backward, you on top of him. Now you were peering at him from above, hair framing your face like a painting, and Jungkook adored the way you looked at him with your half lidded eyes through your long eyelashes. He was in paradise. No other paradise he had ever been in, no island vacation or shopping spree in Singapore could compare to the paradise he was in right now, with you. And he knew then that he wanted to share his world with you, and he could only hope and wish that you share yours with him too.
Jungkook caressed your cheek, gentle swipes across your cheekbones with his thumb. His eyes deeply focused on memorizing your every pore. If he told you he was counting your scars you would probably slap him out of embarrassment. He flipped you over, took off his shirt, and kissed you once more. This time it was quick, rushed, like he couldn’t get enough of you before the time was up.
“Can I?” He tugged at the hem of your top. And you nodded, hesitantly, your bottom lip between your teeth. “I won’t do anything you don’t want.” He reassured you, as if reading your mind, following his statement with a soft kiss on your forehead. “So tell me, what do you want?” He trailed his thumb across your bottom lip, slipping it into your mouth, entranced by the way you took him in.
“Can I just have you?” You looked up at him, from eyeing his topless body. That alone had you pressing your thighs together. Your hands all over him, as if your eyes were closed and you were trying to picture him in your mind through your touch. Then you took his left hand with yours, and your right hand trailed down to grab his crotch, and you moved his hand down to yours. “But I don’t want these two to meet yet.” You snickered. Jungkook found you so amusing, his lips perking into an endearing grin. “That won’t be a problem, princess.” Your tummy did a little flip at his pet name, the way he purred it to you making you go a little crazy.
The rest of the night was spent touching and kissing and touching and kissing. And when Jungkook asked if he could ‘massage you down there’ you took his hand once more and slipped it into your panties. And when you were both in your underwear, Jungkook couldn’t stop drooling over you, the black lacy lingerie that you had worn just for him, hugging every one of your curves as if they were specially handcrafted for you. He proceeded to bite the hem of your panties, tugging them off gently while stopping to lick your thigh every now and then. Jungkook truly did not care that he wouldn’t be having sex with you. He loved this just as much. He loved the way your breath hitched when he slipped his fingers inside you, and the way your nails dug into his arm and his back pulling him closer and closer until you were glued together. Your lips never parting even through muffled moans. You touched him too, you felt the way he twitched in your palm, and it made you giddy when he would shiver in pleasure, biting your lip and curling your toes from excitement. And Jungkook would mutter your name beside your ear anytime you teased him a bit too much, "Y/N, baby, you're driving me crazy." Accompanied by his vulnerable whines and gasps. You guided each other, until you both reached the finish line. And you did this until it was late into the night. Reaching the finish line a number of times, in a number of different ways.
You laid in each other’s embrace, whispering sweet nothings to each other through flirtatious kisses. The kind of fondness between you resembled that of hopeless romantics. And that was exactly what the two of you were. Jungkook’s hand caressing your arm, and you outlining his tattoos with your finger.
“Are you hungry?”
“Starving.” You replied with a hearty laugh.
Jungkook reached over to his bedside to grab his phone. Returning to you he asked, “What do you want to eat, pretty?”
“Whatever you have to offer, handsome.” Your flirting was disgusting, but you both didn’t care.
Jungkook then called his chef, even though it was like 1am in the morning. “I am so sorry for waking you up Mister Young, but I would really appreciate it if you could cook up a meal for two, please.” Your heart instantly melted at the sweetness that Jungkook displayed, truly a kind-hearted gentleman. Mister Young was not at all bothered by Jungkook’s request, in fact, he was overly excited for young sir, this being the first time he had ever requested a meal for two at 1 am in the morning. A sense of pride filled him, happy for the young prince who had possibly found someone to be happy with, finally.
Jungkook turned to you, a grin on his face, “You know, I barely know you.” He said.
“Why lie?” You replied.
You were right. Jungkook did actually know you. He had a private investigator do a background check on you this morning. In Jungkook’s world, it was just out of precaution. There’s always a new story that finds its way to him about someone in their circle being another victim of fraud. He just wanted to make sure that the woman he felt himself falling for, was real.
“How did you know?” Jungkook’s mouth slightly agape.
“You just told me.” You grinned. And Jungkook loved the way you made him feel like a fool. You were joking at first of course, but when Jungkook ironically confessed you put two and two together. Figuring that a person of his stature would surely have the means to know what the name of your pet hamster from when you were seven was. You didn’t really care since you had already told him much of it yourself, all he did was cross-check with the records available to him. But now he owed you, big time.
“You owe me now.” You said.
“Like I said, anything you want, whenever you want.”
Over his shoulder, your eyes noticed something that you were inspecting earlier.
“How about... for next time... or whenever I um, come around to it...” You paused to build up your courage while Jungkook turned to what your eyes were peering at. “We do it against those.” You were both now glancing at Jungkook’s window-filled wall.
“Baby...” He turned to you, eyes wide like he was on cocaine, shifting beneath the sheets before slithering nearer to you like an injured puppy placing his face in the crook of your neck. “You’re so sexy.” He whined into your neck, drawing out the ‘y’ at the end.
He looked up at you, his big doe eyes in action, "What are you doing next week?" A cunning smirk sneaking onto his face.
"Well, I'm scheduled at work for like twenty hours, then I have classes to attend..." You mindlessly listed off the things you were going to do next week as if you weren't speaking to Jeon Jungkook, as if he was just a random commoner–like yourself–looking to ask you out on a simple dinner date.
"Come to Fiji with me?"
Wow, you were not expecting that, and it clearly showed on your face. However, it was not at all like you to turn down this kind of offer just to slave around at a job you despised. Your classes you could easily catch up on. Your mind was made up, but Jungkook didn't know that, so you wanted to tease him a bit.
"I don't know." You exhaled as if torn between the 'very difficult' decision.
"Please." Jungkook whined, lengthening the vowels. "I have to take you on a date. Our first official date." He coaxed.
"And us spending the whole day together yesterday wasn't a date to you?" You asked, genuinely puzzled.
"I said o-ffi-cial." He carefully pronounced each sound in the word 'official' to make it clearer.
"And you can’t just take me out to dinner?" You provoked. Jungkook pouted at you, "That’s boring, I’m not a boring guy." And you knew this already, from some of his earlier ministrations.
"Did someone say skinny dipping?" You yelled, frantically searching the room for an imaginary person. Jungkook’s eyes lit up. "I'm fucking with you, of course I'll go." You finally gave in, unable to compete against his pout.
Jungkook didn't even give you time to pack anything, telling you he'd buy you whatever you needed later. You had both ended up sleeping well into Saturday afternoon in a tangled mess on his bed: your leg was thrown over him, his hand instinctively on your ass all night, or he'd be spooning you and have his hand down the boxers he let you borrow. One way or the other, he made sure those butterflies didn't leave your stomach from his touches. Later in the evening, you were both driven to the airport to board Jungkook's own private jet. He told you how every member in his family had their own designated plane all because of an incident where his older brother had taken the plane to see his girlfriend in Amsterdam when his dad had a meeting to attend in Malaysia.
"It was a huge thing." He said. "My dad was like fuming, you could practically see the smoke coming out of his ears, he was yelling into the phone at my brother like 'You better bring that plane back this instant or else I'm selling your Rolls-Royce!' it was hilarious." You laughed in both amusement and agony, this was really some rich people shit that you could not wrap your head around.
"It was my brother's favorite one too." Jungkook snorted. You connected the dots that the car was indeed sold.
"That's insane..." You looked down at your entangled hands. "Our lives are really different, Jungkook." Your throat started to burn from realization, you were in the car on your way to another fucking country with someone you had just met a day ago. The adrenaline and desire overwhelming the practical part of your brain that would've probably been screaming 'Don't! Don't' at every decision you ended up making to spend more and more time with Jungkook. You thought about the home you had grown up in, the two-bedroom home that was just enough for you and your parents. You had nothing to offer Jungkook, and here he was spending all this cash on a stranger. You wondered if he did this with every pretty girl, then dropped them a week later once he got bored. Probably shouldn’t have let miss lady take charge yesterday.
Jungkook squeezed your hand. You looked back at him. "That doesn't matter, I hope you know that." The remaining ten minutes of the ride was spent in relative silence, you battling in your thoughts, and Jungkook humming to himself while looking out the window, turning to check on you every minute or so. He didn't need a reply from you. He would've understood if you made the decision not to go right in front of the jet's stairs. And he'd take you home, without question.
But you didn't. You got on that plane, fell asleep an hour into the flight, and woke up to Jungkook gently telling you that you were about to land. You looked out the window, "Doesn't look like Fiji, did you kidnap me to sell me off?"
"Unfortunately not, you'd make me so much money though," he pouts through his teasing "we're in Sydney, you need things so I figured we'd make a stop..." He leaned over you, his hands on top of the baggage compartment while he looked out your window. You grabbed his waist and stuffed your head up his shirt, yup this was the best decision you've made so far.
"You smell nice, kinda wanna take a bite." You said, actually taking a bite of his sturdy abs.
"What do I taste like?" He asked.
"Like burnt chicken nuggets." You licked.
"Alright, that's enough, let's get going." He pulled you out from under his shirt and enveloped you in a rather dirty kiss. He took you by your hand and guided you off the plane and into the black range rover waiting for you both.
“I don’t need much, Jungkook.” You said, causing Jungkook to stare at you with wide eyes. This was very unlike you. “Well half of the time I’m gonna be in the water, and the other half I’ll probably be...” you leaned over to whisper the rest in his ear “naked.” His grip on your thigh tightened.
“Plus I have nowhere to keep all this stuff in my tiny dorm room closet.” You whined, placing your head on his shoulder. You didn’t even want to think about the amount of time that packing would take.
He hummed as if deep in thought, “Well you’re lucky, I just so happen to have an extra closet you can use.”
You groaned, you were a bit terrified at how things were moving. Yes, Jungkook was a rare gem, a one in a million type of guy but you feared that he didn’t see you the same way. And maybe he really wasn’t, there’s only so much you can learn about a person in 48 hours. Though, character may be hard to fake. Why worry though? This was a once in a lifetime experience that not many people were lucky enough to get, after all, this was what you were working towards anyway. You were absolutely going to enjoy yourself.
“Fine, but that means I have to come over anytime I want something from that closet.”
“Very true, I’m sure we can work something out.”
It wasn’t long before you both arrived at the very posh boutique lined shopping centre. You weren’t sure why you had expected to go to the general mall with stores such as Topshop or Zara. Instead, you were staring down price tags that could pay six months worth of rent. “Stop looking at those.” Jungkook snatched the price tag out of your hand. “Just choose what you like, I’ll wait for you in the changing room, pretty.” The changing room which was quite literally a room with a whole sofa that Jungkook laid on. So when you came in with a stack of clothes in your arms, a huge toothy grin on your face, and the store clerk behind you also with a stack of clothes in her arms, Jungkook smiled. You began trying on the clothes, all made for warm weather, you just wanted to make sure that they didn’t look stupid on you. Sometimes some pieces would look gorgeous on the hanger, but the moment it was on a body it became an awkward looking mess. Jungkook would still say that you made it look good but you wouldn’t care, your own confidence in the piece being more important than whether or not it actually looked good. Jungkook was enjoying this just as much as you were, having front row seats to see your panties slightly slip off whenever you removed some shorts or skirts that were tight fitting. His favorite part though was the swimsuit try on, yup, and you had a lot of those. Every now and then he’d get up just to grab you, spin you around, and hold you, like the big softie he was.
You both spent around two hours shopping. Jungkook bought two pairs of swimsuits for himself, the remaining six bags were yours. And you were back on the plane for a quick-not-so-quick four and a half hour ride to Fiji islands, final destination being Turtle Island.
It was mid-day by the time you arrived at the five star private resort that Jungkook had booked for you two, well his travel agent, but that wasn’t the point–he still paid. It was a beautiful little stilt building on water, there was even a pool and jacuzzi on the patio overlooking the crystal clear blue water. You oohed and aahed at the colorful fish and turtles! that swam below. Then there were footsteps coming up behind you, fast, and before you could even turn there was a huge splash in the water you were watching. A wet blonde head of hair looking up at you from the water. “You coming or not!?” Jungkook yelled over to you. Luckily, you already had your swimsuits on under your clothes, a little trick that your mom and you would do every time she’d take you to the beach or to the water park when you were younger. So you stripped your clothes off and jumped in after him. And when you were floating beside him he brought his hand up out from the water, two goggles hanging from it. You squealed a bit from excitement, snatching one, pouring the salty water out from inside, wiping the goggles and putting it on. Then you were both under, diving then coming up for air then back down to swim after a turtle.
The rest of the day went by quickly, exhausted by the time the sun set. You were in the jacuzzi eating a bunch of fruit that the resort staff had delivered earlier. Eyes closed and head relaxed on the cushioned headrest, with your arms outstretched on the jacuzzi edge. Jungkook was somewhere inside, you assumed he was taking a shower. That was not the case though, apparently he was straddling you now, his thick arms wrapped behind your head, his fat ass on your thighs. You opened your eyes “cute,” you giggled, moving your hands up his sides while inspecting his ravishing body.
“Did you know that sea turtles eat jellyfish? It’s like their favorite snack. I wonder if it’s like jello.” Jungkook said. You hummed, too busy with your hands.
“They can also hold their breath underwater for like five hours.” He added on. Now he was smirking, but you weren’t sure why.
“That’s very interesting, Jungkook, is there a reason you’re telling me this?”
“Not really.” He started sliding off you, into the water. Your eyes followed him down until everything was submerged except for his head.
“May I?” He asked.
“May you what?”
He stuck his tongue out, then flailed his head in the water and you were genuinely embarrassed by him even though it was just the two of you. But you knew what he meant: the turtle facts now made a bit more sense to you. He pinched your thigh and you swatted him. Jungkook’s devious little plan was ruined because you were now wrestling in the jacuzzi. HIs head tucked under your armpit, then you were tucked under his armpit, then multiple counts of attempted homicide.
Though, eventually, somehow your swimsuits had managed to fly off in various directions and somehow you were now all over each other, tongues in action and lips glued together. Jungkook’s hands ran up and down your spine then went to fondle your ass that he would occasionally squeeze. You were quick to let him into your mouth, his tongue having begged at your lips. You naturally began to grind against his muscular thighs, and he would flex them to create some sort of aid in this frictionless water. Your hand inched down his chest, his abs, then you traced his v-line till you reached what you were going for. You fondled his dick that was now getting pressed between your torso and his, running your thumb against his tip. “Shit, baby, do you like doing that? Teasing me?” Jungkook groaned into your ear. You hummed in agreement. Your lips smacking against each other, the sound of hot breath and waves mixing together. Jungkook’s dick being so close to your entrance but not inside you made you feel empty, and you could feel his outline against you, not small in the slightest. “Jungkook, I want you.” The words barely escaping with sound as you mouthed them into the kiss before he started nipping at your neck, taking a bite and leaving a fresh hickey. “Mhm, can you say that again for me, baby?” You loved Jungkook’s way of flirting, he would call you ‘pretty’ whenever you were in public and keep ‘baby’ for the bedroom. “I want you so deep inside me that I can’t see you right in front of me.” You pulled away to speak properly.
Jungkook must have seen the devil because he yanked you up, threw you over his shoulder and removed you both from the jacuzzi. You were now two naked bodies on display for all the turtles and fishes to see, though they seemed to be too preoccupied to watch Jungkook ruin you shortly. He slapped your ass and ran his fingers over your mound as he carried you to the canopy bed that sat outside on the patio. “You know, when you say things like that you make me go a little crazy.” He said in a deep, groany voice. And he threw you onto the bed, barely giving you any time to adjust before he was spreading your legs and looking at you hungrily.
“You’re too pretty for your own good,” he drew his fingers along your entrance, “I wonder how many times I can make you cum with my mouth alone.” You nearly cried as he replaced his fingers with his tongue, his thumb tracing little circles on your bud. It wasn’t long before he was shoving one finger in, then two, then three, going in and out and in and out, his tongue lapping you up. You grinded against him, your fingers in his wet hair. Then he was moving up your body, licking the droplets of water along the line he drew. He circled your nipple while he rubbed the tip of his shaft against your entrance. Your hands were above your head, giving him an all access pass to every inch of your body. Then he was showering you with kisses again, your lips connecting once more like magnets. “I can’t believe I’m about to fuck the queen of Australia.” He whispered into your ear. You let out a breathless laugh, your hands moving to wrap around his neck. “That would make you my king, or rather perhaps my concubine?” You moaned as Jungkook grinded against you, slow lustful grinds. “Sounds like fun either way, but you’ll always be my princess.” And you gave out a loud moan from Jungkook finally shoving his dick inside you.
“What if I said I’d never had a concubine before?” You laughed breathlessly, afraid that Jungkook might not catch your drift. Though when he paused from fucking you into the sheets to look at you through wide eyes, you can confidently assume he did.
“Are you?’ He asked, unable to say much else. And you nodded hesitantly in reply.
“Then I guess we’re both just going off instinct here, aren’t we?” He smiled, returning to kiss you, devotion laced with his kiss. The fact that Jungkook was a virgin, too, made you lightheaded, you were his first and likewise. To you, this meant something more than just a quick fiji trip with a pretty girl.
Jungkook wouldn’t have even guessed that he’d be your first, thinking that you didn’t want to fuck him on your kinda-not-really second date was because you just didn’t fuck so early. He didn’t really understand why, or how, but knowing that he was your first too made him feel connected to you even more, like you were truly both meant to stumble into each other. He was so fucking glad that he asked you that stupid question, or else you wouldn’t be here right now, with him. And God, the way your lips felt against his, he could go crazy just from a brush alone. He held you like you were fragile, made from glass, but with every thrust he wanted to go deeper, further into you, and no he wasn’t doing that just to hear your heavenly moans.
Unhurried, lazy but deep thrusts. Because he’s not rushing anywhere nor are you. And your fingers are entangled in his, beside your head, and they’re warm, moist even, soft, and his thumb drags along the back of your hand, calming you, sweet little ministrations– his specialty. And his lips are on your ear, your cheek, your jaw, your neck, your shoulder, and he’s tasting you, like a hungry gentleman. You’re on a cloud, with nothing else but yourself and him around you. And you can feel it all, everything, everywhere, the sweet tingles that run up from your mound through your stomach, up to your brain and it’s intoxicating, like narcotics, you can’t get enough. But it’s happening simultaneously with the pumps from your heart, and the feelings are mixing, like a sick little concoction waiting to burst out of every opening. Now Jungkook’s fingers are running down your shining body, like paint brushes, he’s painting you then erasing you with his lips, then painting you again, and he does this many, many times, and each time is like the first. You can feel him, so intimately, filling you slowly, his warm, slick body on top of yours, his tough chest and abdomen sliding on yours carefully, gently, almost like he doesn’t want to scrape you with his piercing muscles that he had so diligently built. His golden chain tickles your face, and you smile, biting it, and twisting your head to the side to pull him closer, and Jungkook answers with a chaste kiss, no hesitation.
He pulled out all the way till only his tip was past your entrance, “I’m happy to be your first concubine, my princess,” and as he spoke those words he thrusted into you, a slow, meticulous thrust, guiding you to your high. “I’ll always be your princess.” You repeated to him the same words he had spoken to you, a tear running down your cheek as you felt an unfamiliar sensation bubbling within you.
And you know, you know now that you love him. You love him a bit too much. But it’s impossible to describe, there aren’t enough letters, not enough words, to describe the way your stomach flips whenever he smiles at you– that smile, the smile... his smile. Maybe not enough words in this language alone, maybe there are more in French, there should be more that you can use? So you think, but you only know so much. Amour sans fin. Your love for him, endless, until the very last star burns out. But still, you’re trying to find the words, struggling to put together the letters while sharing the same breaths with him. You open your eyes, and you’re met with his, penetrating you, as if he’s reading your heart’s wishes, longings, needs. And he says it before you can.
“I love you.” And you know, you understand, that it’s all you need. There’s nothing more he can say, to explain to you how deep his feeling goes, there aren’t enough words, or songs, or poems. So you accept it because you too know nothing of what else he could say, to express his longing for you. The longing for something that is already there, but he still wants to be with you, constantly, he wants you there, always.
Jungkook knew that you were the one, his search coming to a full stop with you snug between his arms. He continued to fuck you while paying attention to every inch of your skin, and he soon learned all your sweet spots. The spot right below your ear, which he would lick, and kiss, and bite, and you in turn would cry his name. The spot on your side, on your waist, right below your ribs, he would run his fingers across it, his tongue, and you'd shiver. And your lips of course, when he'd bite your bottom lip, you always smiled into the kiss without fail, and if your hands weren't already holding his face then you would bring them up to hold him.
Even though you were all over each other, tossing and turning, fucking and crying. Fucking from the side, fucking with your leg swung over his shoulder, fucking with both legs over his shoulder, fucking with your face stuffed into a pillow, you still couldn't get enough of each other. This seemed to be the case anytime you two were together though, the physical touch between you two being never ending. Whenever this becomes official, the PDA will be disgusting. So when you've both reached your highs, multiple times, and the fogginess has left your mind, you're finally breathing out an "I love you," that gets lost among the waves, but does not go unheard.
2K notes · View notes
sopeverse · 7 months ago
chapped. myg
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pairing: min yoongi x female!reader
genre: the softest of smuts, domestic!au, do not interact if you’re under 18
summary: having injured his shoulder and unable to preform, the only thing yoongi has to look forward to are your lazy mornings spent in bed
warnings: unprotected sex, sloppy kisses, bulging kink, slight size kink, body worship, the most disgustingly sweet fluff, soft!yoongi, he also has a big dick
word count: 3.3k, a baby fic if you will
note: this was written while yoongi was out sick, please enjoy some filthy domestic antics
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Sharp aches tightening around his arm was what woke Yoongi from his deep slumber, stirring from sleep with a soft sigh once the familiar dull pain inflicted against his sore muscles.
Having undergone recent surgery he was left to fend for himself back at the dorms, the others embarking on tour without him. He tried to welcome the rare peace and quiet, giving him a chance to finally bask in the tranquility of their shared space without the loud chattering or playful fighting disrupting him in the background. He almost appreciated the emptiness, being able to concentrate on his music more and finally reading the books he swore to get back to but always left to collect dust in the corner of his room, but he couldn’t stop his heart from yearning the other boys, missing their overdramatic ways and pestering. He missed Jin popping in to make sure that he wasn’t overworking himself, Namjoon giving him advice on his new tracks, Jungkook playing video games with him when he was free; just the overall dysfunctional family unit they seemed to create in the messy dormitory.
Except - as he lolled his head over to the right - you were filling the void.
Doting on him at every hour of the day and taking care of his needs as he slowly recovered, Yoongi couldn’t be more appreciative of you. With every gentle praise, light kiss and adoring affection you showered him in, he continued to fall heavier and deeper in love with you, crossing his fingers in hope the members wouldn’t return no matter how much he missed them.
His thoughts continued to run wild, warmth glinting in his tired gaze as he studied your face, slacked with sleep, your chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Small puffs of air slipped past the slight part in your lips, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks before slowly cracking open, blinking the sleep away and eventually meeting his stare. Yoongi watched as you stretched against the soft mattress, bones popping while your body shook off its tiredness, a lopsided grin pulling at your lips before you slumped against the pillows once again with a light exhale.
“What are you doing up so early?” The question was weighed down with drowsiness and rasp, lids struggling to stay open as you watched your boyfriend heave out a quiet groan, leaning into the loving touch of the hand that found its way into his disheveled locks. Looking past your form, he squinted his hazy eyes, trying to make out the bold digits that stuck out in the dim room ; 6:12AM.
“Guess I couldn’t sleep again.” Your lips formed into a small pout, tutting lowly as his obvious fib.
“Your shoulder is acting up again, huh?” Yoongi gazed at you dubiously, wincing from the sting in his shoulder as he struggled to sit up against the headboard, shaking his head lightly causing the strands to fall into his sight. “You were never too good a lying.”
Your boyfriend huffed out a chuckle, shaking off the pain as a gummy smile appeared on his face once you leaned up to plant a gentle kiss against his cheek, humming lowly into the warmth of his skin. “You’re getting a big chubby.” A crease formed between his eyebrows at your words, moving his head in order to dodge another press of your lips.
“What the fuck do you mean I’m getting chubby?” Soft chuckles left you while your fingers pinched at the forming fat between his cheeks, squishing them together and forcing it into a cute duck face. “Stop being so grumpy, I love it.” Pressing a chaste kiss against his still pouted mouth you finally let go of his face, indents of where you were mushing his chub appearing against the pale skin, continuing to worship his face with your lips.
Yoongi sighed gently, letting the light conversation die out as his eyes slipped shut, the tips of his digits drawing soft circles on your exposed hips, the sleeping shorts you had worn having ridden down during the night. Soft exhales left him once you resorted to leaving hot-open-mouthed kisses against the column of his neck, the atmosphere of the once still room suddenly growing stifling with arousal. Each rut of your hips against his clothed cock made him shiver in your hold. He titled his head back as you continued the descent of your sloppy kisses to his collarbones, tongue tracing and teeth nipping at his sensitive skin.
Strong arms circled around your waist, holding you flush against his body before going to flip you beneath him only to be stopped once your lips removed themselves from his his neck, an involuntary whine escaping him. Your hands splayed across his chest, fisting the fabric of his shirt before gently pushing him back onto the plush pillows. “Let me take of you.”
No argument was made against your words, relaxing back into the comforter as you lightly squeezed his bicep, the most loving of smiles painting your kissable lips. Your needy fingers quickly found the bottom of his t-shirt, pulling it up against his torso, exposing his pretty skin bit by bit - making sure not to cause him anymore pain until you finally slipped the flimsy clothing over his shoulder. His rounded eyes curiously watched as you settled between his spread legs, leaning down to press feather-like pecks against his slight belly causing a red hue to tint his skin from your persistent affection.
“I love this tummy so much. You have no idea how handsome you are yoon, you don’t deserve to go through what you do.” His mouth dried up once your hushed words hit his ears, feeling his heart hammer against his ribcage, the overbearing feeling of love crawling up his throat and slipping past his mouth in words of endearments, the softness of his voice falling deaf on your ears and getting lost in the still room. Your lips continued their sweet doting on his stomach, a praise being muttered against the skin with each peck. They gradually made their descent to the waistband of his checkered pyjama bottoms, ones he cursed himself for wearing now as they were the only barrier between your sweet mouth and his straining cock.
He watched with anticipated hunger, your fingers finally hooking around the elasticated band, leaving him completely exposed to your watchful eyes before clumsily kicking the garment onto the floor, forgotten within a moment. His length curved against the expanse of his stomach, the sensitive tip red and leaking with pre-cum. 
“Are you seriously this horny after a bit of dry-humping?”
“Shut your damn mouth.” Yoongi was quick to dismiss your playful quip with his rough words, hips raising eagerly before you wrapped a small hand around the base of his cock, the other laying flat against his smooth thigh. The friction of your palm teasingly squeezing against the thick flesh caused a guttural moan to vibrate against his chest, head thrown back and back arching off the bed. Light strands of hair stuck to his forehead, his body glistening in a thin layer of sweat as your hand continued to deny his pleasure, pressing down the pad of your thumb against the slit of his fat tip, effectively shutting him up. He couldn’t remember the last time arousal flogged his mind this quick - those few weeks of no sex while he was recovering having built up and now was the cause of his balls constricting with need. Your eyes glinted in amusement once you felt him tremble against you, loving how quickly you made him come undone with a few simple strokes of your hand.
“You’d think after eight years of being one of the most recognised superstars in the world you’d finally learn some fucking members.” He scoffed lightly at your words, biting the inside of his cheeks to prevent himself from snapping back at you and finally getting your pretty lips wrapped around his dick. His torture was finally put an end to as you lowered your mouth onto his length, sucking on the head eagerly and humming around the thickness once the familiar taste of his wetness invaded your tongue.
“Ahh, fuck. You’re so good to me, too damn good to me.” Your name fell from his lips like a prayer, hips bucking up further into the air causing him to hit the back of your throat. Choked gags were muffled by the fat member that was currently fucking your wet mouth, feeling a small sting in your jaw as you widened it to stuff more of him past your lips. His legs trembled against the sheets as you continued to take him deeper into your mouth. He could feel his breath hitch in his throat, the unbearable throbbing caused by your sweet tongue flattening out against the underside of his shaft and the soft whines vibrating around him - he knew he wasn’t going to last long. The muscles of your throat constricted around him, tongue tracing the thick veins that littered his cock. A large hand reached down to tuck the stray strands of hair falling into your face behind your ear, small praises being muttered into the room as your eyes filled with tears, the sheer size of his length causing you to choke.
Fond eyes darted down to watch your head bob against him, feeling your nails dig into the unmarked skin of his thighs, surely leaving small grazes in the shape of crescent moons in the flesh. Your cheeks hollowed out around him, each thrust of your head coaxing soft moans from the boy. Your other hand continued to pump his base, salvia dripping down the length of his shaft as your wet muscle prodded at the slit of his tip, eating up each low groan and hiss of your name.
“Stop-” Yoongi hurriedly coaxed you off his pulsating thickness, hand still wrapped around him and plump lips shining with his liquids, a frown forming between your brows as you gazed at him in childlike-like confusion - as if you hand’t just been sucking him off like a cock hungry slut. His dick once again slapped against his stomach with a small ‘plop’ when you finally released him, knees becoming numb under your wight as you awaited his next words.
“I can’t come yet, need to be inside you.” His words were rushed, calloused hands guiding you onto his lap once again. Rough fingers kept a firm grip on the soft flesh of your thighs, huffing quietly as he pried at the clothing that obstructed your tempting body from his eyesight. He was quick to rid you of your pyjamas, shorts pooling to the end of the bed and shirt - which he noted was actually his - flung to the other side of the room, leaving you completely bare. “You’re so needy.”
One of your hands once again squeezed gently around his forearm, your playful words diminished by the worry that shone in your eyes, thumb running across the skin of his bicep.
“I’m fine, don’t worry.” Yoongi calmed your silent troubles with his tender words, a fond smile gracing his chapped lips before he leaned up to press his lips against yours in a warm kiss. His mouth devoured every small whimper and moan you let out, grinding your core down against him. The barrier of your clothing no longer being a problem allowed the underside of his cock to drag across your soaking clit, your wetness coating the length and spilling onto the bedsheets below you.
“Hm, sure, I’m the needy one.” You decided to ignore his slight jab, instead opting to rut your heat down harder onto the straining cock that was twitching with need, almost begging you to finally just fuck him. An animal-like growl slipped past his clenched teeth, only to be silenced by your sweet lips again, your perk breasts brushing against his taut chest. Blunt digits kept hold of your grinding hips, letting you fuck yourself on the length of his dick before coaxing you to lift yourself up, his injured shoulder unable to support your weight. He messily pumped his cock a few times, spreading the wetness left by your mouth down the entire length. He teasingly rubbed his tip against your sensitive bud, gently bumping your pussy, as if he almost wanted you to beg for his dick. You shuddered against his slumped body, biting your lip to prevent any sort of beg or whine to slip past, nuzzling your nose against his cheek while he continued to tease you. Your tight hole spasmed once he smeared your liquids across the slit with his twitching head, finally prodding past your folds and ending the taunting.
Yoongi watched as your face scrunched up slightly, wincing as he kneaded your bud with his tip, the sting of causing you to let out a whimper. You buried your face into his shoulder, arms wrapping tightly around his neck, not allowing any sort of distance to become between your breathless bodies.
He finally pushed into you, keeping the pace of his hips agonisingly slow. His adams apple bobbed when he gulped loudly, hands keeping leverage on your legs as he steadily bottomed out, hot thickness stretching your snug pussy out. Your warm walls pulsated around him, feeling so full and filled to the brim with his cock deliciously kissing your womb, finally feeling the hilt of his hips. His legs bent to let your back rest against them, granting him a full view of your flustered state. 
“You’re so big, make me feel so- so good.” Breath hitched and pussy throbbing, you stayed fully seated on his member, hands splayed out against his heaving chest as you both basked in the others beauty. You both panted heavily into the quaint room, cheeks flushed and bodies donned in sweat. He fondly noted how your hair stood out in different directions, due to his rough pulling earlier, and he just knew you’d have a hissy fit later trying to brush the knots out. But he didn’t care, not with how beautiful you looked in the moment, with your large eyes fucking glistening and looking all kinds of ethereal - failing to notice your loving stare regarding him with the same amount of awe.
Yoongi’s lips shone with wetness, where his tongue had been peeking out to wet the dry flesh, highlighting the chapped skin caused by his constant habit of biting, leaving his pouty lips bruised and rough against your own. You still adored the feeling of his mouth against yours, his lips looking so damn kissable and glossy despite the damaged tissue. With this in mind you leaned down to press yours against them, breathing deeply through your nose as his warm tongue invaded your mouth, hands going to grip your ass before thrusting softly into your heat. His teeth bit and nipped at your lower lip, cock becoming increasingly harder inside your dripping cunt once you faintly started begging for more, chasing his mouth with your own each time he tried to pull away. He paid no mind to your breathy whines, stilling inside of you just to drag out your pleasure even more.
“Move.” The rough demand was eagerly met by the slow circling of your core, the confines of your dripping heat clutching around him and milking him dry, causing the liquids to mix with your own and drip out of your tight hole, a sticky mess painting the soft skin of his tummy. Long fingers reached down to flick at your puffy clit, the overstimulation of both his cock and digits teasing your bud coaxing hoarse cries out of your overly sensitive body, hands curling into his chest and searching for something - anything - to hold on to as the force of his thrust met each ground of your pelvis.
He was long and thick, the veins tracing around his length filling up each curve and crevice of your cunt. Your nails scraped against the skin of his torso, your moans becoming softer and more needy as he focused on hitting the deeper parts of your core, cock curving deep inside you and jutting out against your stomach. The rough pad of his thumb reached to trace the slight bulge protruding against your belly, almost cumming at the mere sight of the outline of his length appearing against your flesh with every hard thrust he inflicted upon your aching body.
“You’re so tiny, bet you love fucking yourself on my big dick, huh?” A pitiful nod of the head was all you could offer him, eyes rolling into the back of your skull as you continued to lift yourself onto his length, your pert tits bouncing with each movement of your hips. Your toes curled into the bedsheets beneath you, legs becoming numb on either side of his relaxed figure while you used his fat dick to fuck yourself. Your breaths came out in laboured puffs, cunt tightly pulsating and throbbing around him once you collapsed forward into his chest, darkness encasing your vision once his tip kissed your cervix, your trembling limbs feeling the full effect of your building orgasm.
“Please, please, please, please-” Begs fell out of your lips before you could stop them, repeated against the column of his neck like a chant. Your bare chest pressed flush against his own, noting how the pace of his strokes slowed, feeling the gush of liquids coat his cock with every rut. His arms kept you close to himself as possible, a large hand cradling the back of your head and keeping it buried against his neck, the roundness of your nose nudging just below his ear as you busied your lips with pressing soft kisses against the skin. Your aching, tormented pussy continued to quiver around him, feeling the pleasurable sting of your cunt being stretched even more. No matter how many times Yoongi fucked up into you with his long thickness, the familiar ache of him hitting your womb never ceased, prompting your velvety walls to twitch and curl around him. Your gut twisted, feeling warmth pool deep inside your core once you clenched around him, the smooth flesh of his dick hitting every spot inside your cunt turning you to mush.
The entirety of your insides were coated in his hot seed, feeling his softening cock pull out of you twitching hole with ease, eliciting a whine from your kiss-bruised lips as you suddenly felt emptiness creep up your spine, the need to have him inside you at all times becoming overbearing. A milky line connected the head of his cock to your trembling pussy, the hot cum that was spilled deep in your heat gushed down the soft flesh of your thighs, staining your skin with the thick substance.
You struggled to catch your breath, nuzzling your nose against his sore shoulder while he let you snuggle close to him, not paying any mind to the mess you both made to the bedsheets beneath you.
“You okay?” Gentle kisses were left to the side of your head, feeling your exhausted form curl around his own. All you could manage was a tiresome nod, propping yourself on your elbow beside him and tangling your legs with his, gazing at him through your eyelashes. Stray locks of damp hair stuck to the side of your face, your lips swollen and red from his rough kisses and a flustered grin tugged at your mouth, ignoring the ache of your abused cunt. You took in his adoring eyes and messy bedhead, the morning sun that now poured in between the curtains emphasising his boyish beauty.
“You need to get some chapstick, your lips are chapped as fuck.”
“Piss off.” He let his head fall against the pillows, a worn-out sigh leaving his scratchy throat before you lay your head gently on his chest, tracing non-existant circles on his shoulder. You pressed a final peck against his pec, delicately pushing the damp hair out of his dark eyes as he leaned further into your touch, the peacefulness of the room broken again with the opening of his mouth.
“Now go make me breakfast loser.”
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oureuphoria · 13 days ago
Not Like You || JJK Oneshot
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⟿ Synopsis: God had favourites. Jungkook figured that out early in his childhood, when every waking moment was spent trying to impress his parents at the expense of you. He ran away at 19 to escape the immeasurable pressure to succeed but he couldn't escape you. Six years and a daughter later, Jungkook met his childhood enemy again, except this time he didn't want to run.
⟿ Genre: fluff & angst & slow-burn so slow you question if there is even a burn.
⟿ Pairing: dilf!jungkook x boxer!jungkook x childhood enemy!reader
⟿ Word count: 28K whoops, I went a little overboard
⟿ Warnings: Mentions of depression and brief mentions of suicidal thoughts, mentions of death (very brief, very minor character) some profanity.
⟿ Note: Oh boy okay so I merged boxer JK with father JK with enemies 2 lovers with friends 2 lovers so it's just a MESS okay bare with me. I'm sorry she's so chonky, also the ending was spontaneous so um sorry <3.
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God had favourites. Jungkook figured that out early in his childhood, when every waking moment was spent trying to impress his parents at the expense of your effortless flaunting. Your parents had known each other from high school, they built their businesses together from the ground up and while the story is outdated and tacky, there was no other way to explain it. Their friendship was admirable, truly one of the strongest you’d ever witnessed. You yearned for a friendship like theirs, everyone did, but you weren’t quite as lucky.
Jungkook, who was older than you by four years, was supposed to be your unconditional best friend. The person you could turn to at any given moment because you both practically grew up together. Sure it was a little too convenient to be true but you hadn’t expected him to hate you. In fact, Jungkook had grown a distaste for everything Y/N. At first, his hatred was irrational and petty. He felt like you were everyone’s new object of attention, people doted on you and your cute pig tails before they ever spared him a glance. And of course, as a 9 year old everything seemed to be dramatised ten-fold but soon enough, you had given him plenty of hate fuel.
Jungkook was a fan of music and sport. Those were pretty much the only subjects he paid attention to at school. He wasn’t the brightest kid but he had passion and humour. You, were his polar opposite. You had no musical talent, not a single athletic bone in your body but academics came easy to you, so did impressing adults. You even skipped two grades and Jungkook couldn’t even escape you. You were the textbook example of everything his parents wanted him to be and he hated you for it.
Jungkook’s parents were loving, kind and well-rounded people. They had a lot of compassion and empathy, they grew up in the lower-middle class and knew how intricate money was and how detrimental it was not to waste it. They also knew that wasted potential, was the worst disease that plagued society. They wanted Jungkook to reach his full potential even if, in their eyes, that meant academic success.
Tutoring wasn’t a necessarily bad thing, initially, Jungkook welcomed the extra help. However, hiring top class tutors for an 11 year old was not a smart decision. Jungkook wasn’t thick-skinned, he didn’t take criticism well, especially not when it was delivered harshly. He cried a lot, struggled even more with the newly established pressure to do well. He broke under the weight of unrealistic expectations just like any delicate glass would and when he put himself back together piece by piece, he was never quite the same.
Forced to grow thick skin, Jungkook had lost his compassion, his soft smile and his innocent eyes. Tainted by the burden of disappointment, Jungkook knew he couldn’t fail to meet expectations if there simply weren’t any. And just like that, a child no different to the countless others who enjoyed class and the safe haven it used to be, had become a nightmare.
Middle school wasn’t the worst. He created trouble but it was petty, small and usually harmless. This was also the time period where you grew to hate him too. Where his disdain towards you had become mutual. You tried to keep the bickering to a minimum. Mainly because you liked to avoid trouble but also because you didn’t want to disappoint your parents. Since, after all Jungkook had done, you were never allowed to reciprocate, you always had to be the bigger person.
It was ironic really, Jungkook was two grades above you and still managed to act half your age. Nonetheless, you tried to treat your negative emotions towards him like papers you could file away and come back to when it really mattered. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t work, no one could compartmentalise their feelings and surely not a 12-year-old but you tried anyway because anything was better than fighting with Jungkook.
High school was when it got personal. It wasn’t just petty arguments over coloured markers or throwing paint at each other. Suddenly, the hatred had deepened, seeped into your blood like poison. It consumed you, enough so to make you forget that you had no reason to hate each other in the first place. The fighting became planned and vindictive until eventually, tearing each other down had gone too far. You picked at each other’s insecurities because it was easy to destroy someone you knew well. In a way, behind the toxicity of your indescribable relationship, you had been the only constant in each others lives. You found comfort in that.
One day in your sophomore year, it went too far. You couldn’t recall the exact details if you tried but it had something to do with your parents divorce. Nevertheless, words were said, insults exchanged like daggers dragged through skin and if you could take it all back you would, because the very next day, Jungkook didn’t show up to school. He didn’t show up the following day, or the day after that until you had been informed that he’d run away.
You wondered where the missing person posters were, or his extravagant search party. You wondered why nobody seemed to care.
With a reputation that had been carefully constructed for years before Jungkook’s existence, it seemed unworthy to damage it all for him and as shallow as that sounded, the Jeons had been too hurt by his decision to see the error in their actions. And thus, no report was filed and Jungkook had disappeared from your life into thin air; his name had become forbidden in your house. Like a blemish wiped away from history, Jungkook ceased to exist and you couldn’t handle it, not when you saw him everywhere. They told his school he’d transferred, which was a blatant lie, Jungkook never finished high school but you were forced to play along.
Jungkook stayed with an older friend in Seoul where he refused to reply to any of your messages. With the burden of the heavy guilt on your shoulders, you trudged through junior year on your own, fearing that he was gone forever. Everyday for 2 years, you messaged him. It was initially just ‘please come home’ every morning but eventually, under the impression that he wasn’t receiving the messages, you vented. Sometimes it was about how depleted his house had become, how Jungkook’s older brother was spiralling into a pit of depression or how your classes didn’t feel the same. Sometimes it was about how much you hated him for leaving you to deal with two broken families.
Jungkook was nowhere for a while. No longer holding a monopoly over your mind although never completely gone. College was easier, the memory of him wasn’t there at every turn. You didn’t think much of trying to find him, not when he so clearly didn’t want to be found. You told yourself that he was alive, well and much happier than he ever was with his family. You begged that it was true every second of every day.
It wasn’t until your fourth year of college that you had confirmed your theory. You almost missed it, in a rush to make it to your morning lecture in time but your eyes unconsciously did a double take. And indeed, there he was, not-so-small Jungkook on a billboard with the title, ‘Season’s hottest contender’. A professional boxer. You were frozen in your place with your jaw slack for far too long to be normal but nobody really cared. Everyone far too busy with their own burdens.
This, you were not expecting.
Needless to say, you had gotten to your morning lecture around 15-minutes late. Why? Well, because after viewing that fleeting billboard, you spent 10 minutes googling your long-lost arch nemesis and the other 5 running to class after realising you were late. Your ethics professor didn’t mind, which you did not find the least bit ironic in the moment, and thankfully you didn’t draw too much attention. However, it probably would’ve been best if you didn’t attend at all because you had not retained a single word uttered during that 115 minute lecture.
When you had gotten back to your apartment, you began to spiral. It had been 6 years since you last saw Jungkook, 6 years since you last heard of him and your blood boiled at the fact that he was thriving. Of course you were happy for him but he had put your family and his through misery for evidently no reason. A simple text message would have sufficed.
In a spur of the moment decision, you haphazardly spent $120 on two tickets to his match that weekend, one that would take place around 40 minutes from your apartment. You just hoped that your roommate would agree to go with you because there was no other way for you to get there without spending a fortune of course.
“Please!! I promise all you have to do is come.” You pleaded for the umpteenth time that night. “Y/N, neither of us have ever given a shit about boxing, why would we go now?” You were rather close with your roommate, in fact you’d consider him your closest friend, however, you never really discussed your childhood with anyone, much less the petty feud that drove Jungkook out of his home. So, you told a small white lie to cover up the real reason behind your random spike of interest in the violent sport. “I told you, I won the tickets online and I don’t want to waste them.” “You can always sell them?” Seokjin had a valid point, there was no denying that but you weren’t one to back down easily. Jin knew that all too well. “Come on, it’ll be fun! I’ll treat you to dinner after?” “Panda Express?” You rolled your eyes at his evidently expensive taste, he was going to milk it for what it was worth. Despite being the child of a millionaire, you were trying to be financially independent and Jin was not making that easy. “I was thinking McDonalds but that works too I guess…” And with a final handshake you had sealed the deal. Jin would accompany you on your journey.
There were many details you hadn’t foreseen. Like, for example, the fact that opting for the cheapest tickets put you at a substantial distance from the ring and that Jungkook was practically untouchable. You never knew when boxing had gotten so popular but Jungkook had a large and diverse fanbase which ultimately meant tough security and no way to speak to him, not unless he noticed you first. You were sure that even with 20/20 vision, there was no way Jungkook could see you from that distance, not to mention the fact that he had to dodge and throw punches at his opponent who you had done absolutely no research on.
“Y/N, this sucks, lets bail and go to panda express.” You glared at your roommate beside you. It had been less than 10 minutes and he was already complaining. “Wait, they’re selling hot dogs I take back what I said. Go buy two.” “No! Stadium food is expensive and besides, I’m not even hungry.” “Who said they were for you? You said you’d buy me food, go, get me two hot dogs.” “Alright Jin, it’s the hot dogs or panda express.” “Nope, if you want me to sit through watching two sweaty men battle it out like medieval gladiators for an hour than you owe me two, two meals.” You rolled your eyes, shoving the money in his hand nonetheless.
The match wasn’t starting for another 15 minutes and you decided you’d take a shot in the dark. Jungkook had probably changed his number, but on the off chance he didn’t, you sent a message anyway. One that was ambiguous enough not to alarm anyone who was not in fact Jungkook but still contained enough information to ensure him that you were not a psycho stalker fan.
Hey, it’s me Y/N. I’m at your match tonight and I was wondering if we could talk?
You deleted your old messages to him, mostly because it hurt to recount what it was like back then but also partly because you wanted to move on. However, what you’d never forget was the fact that in your 2 years of messaging him, the messages had never, ever been read. So, when the read receipt had shown up onto the screen, you could feel your heart beat in your chest, the sensation becoming overpowering to the point where it left you nauseous. However, it didn’t take long for your heart to settle once again.
Sorry, wrong number.
You weren’t sure what you were expecting but you still felt the disappointment all the same. “So, I got a snow cone too but I’m not a complete monster so I got watermelon because I know it’s your favourite.” “Blueberry. Blueberry is my favourite, Jin.” You deadpanned in a monotonous tone, you were lying, watermelon was your favourite but Jin deserved the discomfort so you maintained the facade anyway. “Wow, who would’ve thought?”
Eventually, the 15-minutes had breezed through and Jin had obliterated the two hot dogs which thankfully gave you time to consume about 90% of the snow cone. “Here, you can have the rest.” Jin looked at you skeptical before realising you had already almost finished the snow cone. “You left me the flavourless, bottom part! I don’t want it.” “Well, that’s what you get for exploiting my kindness. Besides, I’m getting cold you take the rest.” You stretched out your hand towards him, holding the ice cone in place. “I don’t want it." “Just take it.” You taunted further, however, in an attempt to further dramatise his theatrics, Jin had wailed his arms around while complaining, accidentally hitting the snow cone out of your hands and onto your white top.
He winced silently, looking at you, infinitely colder with a large pink stain on your shirt. “I have no regrets.” He tried to hide his giggle but you took off your jacket, throwing at him while standing up to go to the bathroom. “You’re insufferable.” you muttered angrily but you failed at keeping a straight face, after all the situation was rather comical. However, on your way to the bathroom, you passed by the ring and while you were too invested in surveying the severity of the stain, Jungkook’s eyes had landed right on you.
Jungkook often looked back towards the exit because that was where his coach would stand, however, what was supposed to be a quick glance at his surroundings had completely thrown him off his game. Your face was one he could never forget, no matter how much he wanted to.
“Jungkook! Focus!” The command from his coach and a fist to his face had regained Jungkook’s consciousness and he hit back five times harder. In fact, seeing you had brewed a pot of hatred deep inside him, one that he had hoped to keep idle till the day he died. On your way back from the bathroom, your eyes locked with Jungkook’s and from the fury in his eyes and the ferocity of his expression, you knew he was well aware that you were there and evidently still wanted nothing to do with you.
“You look like you had a nose bleed.” You rolled your eyes at Jin who had almost forgotten about your entire existence in the 3 minutes you were gone. “You didn’t tell me the boxer was so fine. Now I know why you wanted to go.” Jin smirked at his comment, raising his eyebrows at you wickedly. However, instead of your comically irritated face, all Jin saw was uneasiness. “Hey are you okay? I’m sorry about the snow cone I didn’t mean to-” You snorted at his antics, your friendship with Jin was rarely sentimental which was why his heartfelt apology had felt so out of place. “I don’t care about the cone, moron and yes, I agree, he is very fine.” There was not a hint of insincerity in your statement but it did come out awkward, mainly because it was true but a part of you knew very well that you’d have to explain to Jin eventually. Especially if you were really planning on getting Jungkook to forgive you.
You spent the rest of the match seated watching quietly. You had to be honest, it left you uneasy. Every punch Jungkook took made you jump a little, every time he threw a punch you held your breath. To say that the entire experience was just pure discomfort would’ve been a severe understatement. You never wanted to attend one of these ever again.
“That wasn’t half bad, Y/N. Dare I say fun, even?” You elbowed him jokingly on your way out of the stadium. “Sure it was fun for you!! I am sticky and I smell like a watermelon starburst.” “You know what, that doesn’t sound half bad either.” You rolled your eyes at him. “Where did you even park the car Jin?” Jin dropped you off at the entrance promising to meet you once he found a place to park his precious car. “It’s a little far…” “Seriously? There are loads of perfectly good parking spots nearby!” “But, Y/N, Popo (yes, Jin named his car, its a Porsche) doesn’t appreciate being among commoners so I parked him at a restaurant nearby, just give me 5 minutes and I’ll bring him here, okay?” You nodded, still sporting a frown provoked by your best friend’s immature antics.
You leaned your shoulder against a wall on the side of the main building which had seemed like a good idea at the time. You were rather tired, even though you didn’t do much. Unfortunately, you hadn’t thought about why turning your back towards the dark abyss might have been problematic. To be frank, you never did think of potential risks in situations, so, when an arm touched your shoulder you were quick to assume the worst and elbow the person behind you.
“Ow! What the fuck, Y/N?” You winced at the familiar voice, of course this would be your first interaction with Jungkook in 6 years. “Oh shit. You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that!” You tried to defend yourself, tone still laced with guilt. There was a heavy pause that followed, one that allowed the tension to grow thicker. “What do you want?” A silence fell after his question to which you responded with a snicker. “What do I want? You approached me, Jeon.” It was a habit, calling him by his last name, one that seemed to only remind him of exactly why he hated you. “I know you’re only here for me so I’ll ask again, what do you want?” “That’s not very fair. What if I was actually a fan of boxing?” “Name one fighter from the season.” It was quiet, you used the awkward pause to properly focus on his face. He’d really grown into his features, arch nemesis or not, he still made you nervous. “Y-” “Don’t say me.” You sighed, defeated. “I said ‘what if’…” You trailed off into yet another awkward silence.
“I just wanted to see how you were doing,” you mumbled quietly, almost to the point where it was incoherent. It was true, though and you didn’t have any ill intentions. Jungkook didn’t buy it and you didn’t blame him. “Did you tell anyone?” “No, not yet at least. Jungkook your mother she-” “Not a word of this to anyone. It’s none of your business.” Your jaw dropped in astonishment, Jungkook was never nice to you but he had definitely changed. He was cold and harsh, things that you’d never associate with the sweet, Bambi-eyed boy from your childhood. “It’s not like you’re keeping a low profile. You’re on billboards, they’re going to find out.” “Yeah, well it won’t be from you.”
“Hey, Y/N!” You turned your neck around quickly at the sound of Jin’s voice, he was seated in his car waiting for you to join him. “I have to go but I’m telling your parents, they deserve to know that you’re alive.” He had his tongue poking through the inside of his cheek and looked at you with a burning ferocity. He cocked his head as if to tell you to go, and that you did. You began to walk away, his look of disappointment perpetually burned into your brain. The interaction left goosebumps on your skin and a look of discomfort that didn’t go unnoticed by Jin. “Who was that?” You mentally shook off all thoughts of Jungkook before shooting Jin a genuine smile. “Just some guy asking for directions, I am almost sure I led him the wrong way.”
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The next time you saw Jungkook was unplanned, at least on your part. You were at work which was a more glamorous way of saying the campus library. It wasn’t fun but you needed the money and it paid well for a relatively low demand on labour. “Hey sexy.” You glared at the source of the irritating voice, Jensen, a guy from your ethics class who had an unruly goal to sleep with every girl in your cohort. “Jensen, lovely to see you.” You feigned a smile, sarcasm obvious in your tone but you didn’t care. He knew well enough that you weren’t his biggest fan.
You didn’t hate Jensen because of his promiscuous sex life, that was his business and you knew better than to make judgements on people based on something that superficial. No, you hated Jensen because of a group project during your first year where he had, unsurprisingly, done absolutely nothing. He went even further to harass your fellow group mate into doing his part for him.
A lot of people hated Jensen but he was disgustingly rich and therefore powerful. You were lucky you could afford to hate him, a lot of people weren’t allowed that luxury. So, you made it your life goal to ensure that Jensen would never, ever, get his way around you.
“I need a book.” “Thought so, you are at a library after all.” He rolled his eyes at your backhanded insults but didn’t move from his position on the bench. Leaning far too close for your comfort. “Picture books are over there.” You gestured when he hadn’t moved from the bench. “Funny, Y/N.” You gave him a sincere smile in response, his discomfort brought genuine joy to your heart. “Great Expectations, Dickens.” You cocked an eyebrow at him and his audacity. Your job was to scan library cards and shelve books, not help a grown ass man locate a book in a library. “It’s the book I need. Go get it.” You sighed in an attempt to calm the volcano of rage that was dangerously close to erupting. “It’s in the classics section, look for the letter D, you must be familiar with it considering your grades.” And with a swift middle finger to your face, Jensen had made his way to the classics section and away from you.
“He’s just so annoying! Who doesn’t know how to locate a book in a library? It’s not even that big.” Jin let out a hum in response which was a telltale sign that he was not listening whatsoever. You hit the back of his head lightly to which he gave you an offended look. “He’s pretty good looking you know.” You gave Jin a look of sheer disgust. There wasn’t much that could make you find someone truly disgusting but Jensen ticked all the boxes which therefore meant that no matter how conventionally attractive he may be, he was entirely hideous to you, inside and out.
“Anyways, while you were not so graciously ranting about your boring life, I got us both invited to the after party.” Jin’s proposal was met with a look of confusion. “What after party?” Your tone, now accusatory and skeptical had Jin feeling nervous. “Well, while you were trying to ring snow cone flavouring out of your shirt, I met this lovely guy named Namjoon who just so happens to be best friends with the boxer and he invited us both to the after party to celebrate Jungkook’s win.” You felt your heart jump to your throat. Suddenly feeling extremely nauseous. You excused yourself to the bathroom where you washed your face in a weak attempt to regain composure. Just the mention of his name was throwing you off. He had disappeared from your life for almost a third of it and it was difficult to accept that he was back.
Jin was perplexed, ever since the day you had asked him to attend the match with you, he would often catch you looking distracted at random times. You always played it off but he knew something was up, he just didn’t feel like forcing it out of you. “Sorry, I think there was something weird in that burrito.” You shivered at the thought of the food which had been tasty then but a genuine regret later. “It’s fine, anyways, I already RSVPd and these events are super hard to get into so we’re going, okay?” You nodded absentmindedly, as mentioned before, Jin was stubborn and there was no way to dig yourself out of this one unless you were willing to tell him the truth.
When in the comfort of your room, you spent an abnormal amount of time with your finger hovering above her contact awkwardly.
‘Mrs Jeon :D’
You couldn’t bring yourself to ring it and despite your better judgement, you decided not to. Something about Jungkook’s dejected expression told you that he needed his space and you owed him at least that much. However, in the solitude of your room, you were finally able to truly reflect on what had happened and what you were planning to do about it. You never admitted it out loud but you relied on Jungkook and despite the anger he’d put you through daily and his senseless pranks, you grew a soft spot for him, you grew fond of someone who hated you through and through under the premise that it was just a guise.
You’d deny it the moment it comes up but at one point, in fact during your sophomore year, before Jungkook ran away, you harboured stupid, pre-teen feelings for him. Sure they were menial and childish but he was your first real crush, dare you say your first love even. But this feeling which you had apprehensively allowed into your life had left you broken. It hurt that much more when he left. The feelings were forced to subside in his absence, although, in the comfort of your bed, it became harder to confirm whether they had ever subsided at all or just remained dormant in the corner of your heart, waiting for the chance to reignite again.
The next day Jin barged into your room at noon. “Get up loser, we’re going shopping.” You sat up from your starfish position on the bed to look at Jin as he leaned against your doorframe dramatically. “Why? We went shopping last week.” You groaned before flopping backwards onto your comfortable bed again. Jin wasn’t having it and therefore he yanked you out of bed and onto the floor. “I need a new outfit for the party and you do too. If I have to see you wear one of your outdated dresses or that stupid mini-skirt-” “That skirt has been through a lot with me, Jin! It holds sentimental value, not that you’d know anything about that, you sociopath.” You got up nonetheless and Jin knew he’d won the battle. You opened your closet, feeling a little insecure about your entire wardrobe thanks to Jin and decided you deserved some new clothes. Which was an entirely personal revelation, not in any way related to your brutally honest roommate.
You weren’t sure why Jin was so on edge about this party. You knew well enough that Jin liked to shop often but he had been nervously raking through his closet and trying different hair styles the entire week. “So, you like this Namjoon guy don’t you?” you teased with a quirk of your eyebrows. Jin scoffed in response letting out mumbles of astonishment. “You think I’m that easy?” “I think you’re a strong believer of love at first sight.” He shook his head instantly, opting not to say anything else. Ironically, the silence confirmed your suspicions; Jin was never speechless.
“Pinstripes or plain?” Jin was holding two ties up to his neck, alternating between the two. “I don’t think anyone wears ties to a house party, Jin.” He mocked you silently but put down the ties anyway. “How about this shirt?” You held up a white silk blouse that had a rather deep v-neck. “I’ll try it on.” You clapped giddily before continuing to peruse the racks of clothing. “So, what are you thinking of wearing?” You shrugged, a sound response which encapsulated the turmoil you were feeling inside, you had absolutely no idea what to wear. “Nothing? You always have opinions.” That was true, you’ve always liked clothing. Ever since you were a kid you always liked to experiment (which led to some rather horrendous family pictures) and you liked to think you grew into your hobby quite well. “Nope, I’ve got nothing.”
“What about this dress?” You glanced at the floral cocktail dress Jin was holding up, it was pretty but your severe allergy to flowers gave you shivers when you looked at it. “Maybe not…” After about 3 hours of inconspicuous shopping (trying to be financially responsible and all), you decided to head home. You ended up buying a rather simple black body con dress that you thought was appropriate, after all the last thing you needed was to attract attention. Jin went with the elegant silk blouse you picked out (you’re always right) and a pair of slacks. He looked great and if you were whoever the hell it was he was trying to impress, you’d be smitten.
On the night of the party, Jin screamed, “Y/N, you ready?” You scoffed at his shrill voice from your shared living room, where you had been (im)patiently waiting for him for the past 25 minutes. “I have been ready for the better part of an hour. Hurry up!” Jin rolled his eyes at your outburst because frankly, he didn’t care, he had a million other things to worry about like how he was going to keep up a conversation with Namjoon while knowing absolutely nothing about boxing. “Where’s the party anyway?” “Jungkook’s house, it’s huge by the way, I checked some places out in that neighbourhood last year.” You nodded absentmindedly, too occupied trying to calculate just how much being a boxer could possibly make you to pay attention to the fact that Jin was planning on moving out.
“That was the wrong turn, idiot! I said take the second left that was the third, no wonder you failed math.” Jin waved off your complaints, peaking at your phone which told him to make a U-turn. “I’m driving next time.” You were still on your learners but felt as though you could surely navigate better. “So you can drive 40 in a 60 zone and make us even later? No thanks.” You let out a huff of astonishment, maybe you were a little too careful sometimes but at least your driving record was clean. Jin couldn’t say the same. “Okay, where the hell do I park Popo? It’s packed!” You shrugged, unconcerned with Jin and his car. “I don’t know, there’s space down the street.” “Down the street?! Behind the Toyota are you insane?” “Whatever, I’m leaving.” You left the car with a shrug to which Jin groaned in annoyance.
“Name and ID.” Jungkook hired bouncers for his house party, bouncers, this man had to be insane. “Y/N L/N,” you replied with a smile that was not returned in any way whatsoever but you could guess that the man was tired so you tried not to take it to heart. You realised, when you had entered the extravagant house that you probably should’ve waited for Jin. You didn’t know a single person there and half of them looked like they bench pressed semi-trucks for a living. You weren’t sure how long you were standing near the entrance with a panicked gaze but it must’ve been a while because Jin had entered looking pissed. “Y/N, you will not believe how far I had to walk I- oh, there’s Namjoon, bye loser!”
Your mouth opened and closed like a fish for a bit, hand outstretched to in a failed attempt to stop him from abandoning you. “Asshat,” you cursed under your breath.
You spent the rest of the night alone, you grabbed a cup full of orange juice and a drop of alcohol because you wanted to pretend you could handle your alcohol by drinking a ‘mimosa’. You were bored out of your mind but you didn’t want to disturb Jin, by the looks of it, he had been hitting things off with that Namjoon guy he was interested in. You were genuinely happy for him.
Sipping 5 cups of orange juice for the better part of your night was not a good idea. You needed to pee.
Jungkook had made it very clear (not personally, you hadn’t seen him all night) that the second floor of his house was off limits. There were security standing at the entrance of the staircase. However, you never made it near the staircase until you felt an impending need to relieve your bladder which was unfortunately met with 4 occupied bathrooms. When you had reached the base of the stairs leading to the second floor, the security, who had been there for every second previous to your arrival, were busy helping an extremely drunk person to a seat and you had gone up in search of a bathroom.
All the doors were shut but that didn’t discourage you. You knocked and peered inside in desperation, careful because you knew what closed doors at a party meant. Eventually, after going past his study, (why did he even need a study?) his home gym and a bedroom, you found a children’s room. You were a major advocate for respect and privacy when in other people’s homes, however, this was Jungkook. Your extreme curiosity got the better of you. The room was empty, thankfully, that party was no environment for a child, however, it was the only room that was full of life. There were toys overflowing from a chest, a pink blanket on a messy bed (the one with the princess net at the top that every child wanted) and a picture framed on the wall with Jungkook and a little girl.
Your heart plummeted to your feet faster than the speed of light and suddenly, the need to evacuate your bladder was gone. The only urge you could register was the one to scream. Jungkook had a child. A child. Was he married? What else was he hiding? “What the fuck are you doing? second-floor’s off limits get- Y/N?” You turned around to see the man of the hour, both shocked and livid at his discovery. “You have a daughter?” Jungkook didn’t say anything in response, he grabbed your arm tightly and dragged you out of the room. His vice-like grip hurt, but you didn’t hold it against him. This was his kid, you’d be mad too.
“You need to stay the fuck away from me. Understood?” He seethed through gritted teeth but you could feel an anger of your own begin to simmer. “Jungkook, why are you pushing us away? Why are you pushing me away? I never did anything to you!” He scoffed, now letting go of your arm which was visibly red, he’d feel guilty about it later. “I don’t owe you shit, let alone an explanation so-” “You don’t know what it was like when you were gone. The least you could do is explain.” You cut him off and he was surprised at your confidence, you were definitely older.
“You really are clueless, huh?” The tension in the hallway had risen to an all time high but you weren’t budging. You crossed your hands across your chest and leaned against the wall to prove that you weren’t going anywhere. He was really about to unpack 9 years worth of emotional trauma. “Did you ever look at the family pictures, Y/N?” You nodded slowly, unsure what he was insinuating. “You were in the middle of all of them, hell even my family albums were full of you.” You didn’t really know what to say, Jungkook might have been right but you were a child, how could you have known better? “You can’t hold that against me I was like 10!”
“In middle school my parents never attended my football games but they were always at your orchestra recitals.” “I-” You tried to apologise but Jungkook wasn’t done. “In high school, I joined the dance team and won a state title, but that didn’t matter because you won a chess tournament. My entire childhood was spent trying to escape your shadow. Forgive me if I don’t want that kind of life for my kid.” You didn’t reply, there were tears in your eyes but you refused to let them fall. Jungkook always had a sharp tongue, the sarcasm dripped from his every word.
While the shock of the fact that Jungkook was a father began settling in, he took the opportunity to walk away but you were quick to stop him. Same grip on his arm, but much softer. “I’m sorry, Jungkook, I really am. It was never my intention to make you feel that way.” Jungkook heard the break in your voice and the quiet sniffles, he assumed you were crying but turning around could have risked the last of his self-control. “I’m trying to make this right, I promise.” Jungkook slipped out of your grasp and continued on his way, not sparing you a second glance.
The drive back home with Jin was silent.
To say you were shocked would have been a severe understatement and everyone around you noticed. Jin had picked up on your quietness around the apartment, Jensen had noticed your lack of snarky comebacks; even the lady who sells the most delicious cinnamon rolls across the street picked up on your absence. You weren’t necessarily doing a good job at hiding your inability to cope with the news and Jin had found your change in demeanour extremely concerning. He’d complained about it to Namjoon who, while completely aware about the situation, relayed the information onto an uncaring Jungkook. Namjoon felt bad lying to Jin, but it wasn’t his business.
You stayed true to your word and didn’t tell anyone about his, predicament, for lack of a better word. You did a lot of snooping but Jungkook had done an insanely great job of hiding his child from the media, you assumed that was for the best. The picture of her was engraved in your head, you could vividly recall her smile because it was so much like his. You hoped she was happy and that he was well, it wasn’t like he had much familial support.
After two weeks, when your mind was just starting to evict its unwanted resident, a phone call from an unsaved number had startled you. “Hello?” You questioned suspiciously, people rarely ever called you so your hesitance was justified. However, no matter how cautiously you approached the phone call, nothing could’ve prepared you for the question on the other side. “Are you serious about wanting to make things right?”
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“She’s not allergic to anything but she’s not a fan of spicy food. Bedtime’s 7pm, 8pm latest otherwise she won’t sleep all night. Her bath time is usually around 6pm but I’ll hopefully be home by then. Oh and one more thing, if I’m back really late, feel free to take one of the guest rooms. All clear?” You nodded dutifully, after all you were literally taking notes.
Jungkook had called you in a spur of the moment decision to ask you to babysit his daughter. It went against all of his better judgement but his second qualifying match had been pushed forward due to a change in the semi-finals dates and his usual babysitter couldn’t help on such short notice. His closest friend was his manager (Namjoon) and everyone else he trusted had lives of their own to tend to. You seemed like the best viable option (not that there were many options to begin with, Jungkook kept his circle close) so Jungkook called you with a proposal of peace in exchange of a favour. You agreed a little too quickly over the phone with an excited tone that almost made Jungkook smile. Almost.
“You got it.” You added a playful salute for comedic relief but Jungkook didn’t seem impressed. He gave his daughter a long kiss on the cheek and a hug, falling to his knees to properly hold the toddler. For the first time in a long time, that old Jungkook with the Bambi eyes overflowing with compassion had made an appearance, it was fleeting, but it was nice to know that he was still in there. “Bye baby, I’ll be home soon, okay?” She smiled and waved at him, giving him a thumbs up for good measure. You could already tell she was extremely mature for a 4-year-old. “Bye bye, daddy! Be safe.” Hesitantly, Jungkook left his house, still apprehensive about his choice to leave his daughter with you.
But, you had been together longer than you had been apart, and while Jungkook hated you, you technically never did anything wrong (partially the reason why he couldn’t stand you). He wanted to genuinely give you a chance. Jungkook tried to physically shake away his thoughts, after all, this was the least prepared he ever was for a match and it was detrimental to his career. He needed to focus. “Don’t stress, Jeon. You’ve got this in the bag.” Namjoon reassured him at the sight of his visible discomfort. He wanted the best for his daughter and if that meant doing the only thing he was good at, he would do it.
“So, your name’s Kyomi, right? My name is Y/N.” You outstretched a hand to the toddler, she eyed it skeptically which you couldn’t help but find unusually adorable. Eventually, she took your comparatively giant hand in hers, shaking it with all her might. “My name means pure and beautiful, what does yours mean?” You looked at her with a blank gaze, blinking absently. Your name didn’t have a meaning. Were 4 year olds supposed to talk this much? “Oh um, I don’t think my name has a meaning…” You trailed off, weirdly embarrassed over something you had never even thought about. “That’s okay, I can give you one later!” She beamed and you could have sworn that your heart skipped a beat.
“Can we have McDonald’s?” She questioned sheepishly, stumbling over the franchise name. While you definitely wanted to agree with her and invest in some nuggets, you really needed this to go well so you raided Jungkook’s fridge for the leftovers he told you to feed her instead. “Sorry ‘Mi, you’re having kimbap, father’s orders.” She shrugged, seemingly unfazed by the rejection. She seriously had more self-control than most of the adults you knew. You expected no less from Jungkook’s child. “Do you want some?” She questioned, holding out a piece to you. You shook your head declining her offer as politely as possible.
“Are you sure you want to watch Tangled, Spongebob movie’s right there-” She nodded confidently and you sighed in defeat. She was too adorable to disappoint, you could see why Jungkook had given her that name, it suited her well. “Why does the horse chase him?” “Because he stole the crown?” “Why did he steal the crown?” “Because he wanted money.” “So he won’t even wear it? What a waste.” You giggled, however the girl had been entirely serious so you stifled the laugh in hopes of not offending her.
Eventually, it had hit 7pm and while you had hoped Jungkook would’ve been home, he wasn’t. You helped her change into pyjamas and brush her teeth deciding that Jungkook could give her a bath the next day. “Kind and silly,” she whispered as she began drifting to sleep in her bed, you next to her. “Sorry?” you replied unsure what those words were supposed to mean. “That’s what your name means.” You couldn’t contain your smile and while you wanted her to humour your ego longer, she needed sleep and once she was finally deep in slumber, you left her room. You decided to wait downstairs for Jungkook, he had to be home soon and you desperately wanted to go home. You didn’t think you could handle an awkward morning with him.
When Jungkook had finally returned, it had been almost 11pm and he hadn’t expected to see you passed out on the couch, Peppa pig playing on the TV. He laughed at the scene quietly, so as not to wake you but his efforts were futile. You always were a light sleeper. “Oh, you’re home!” You said excitedly, well, as excitedly as someone could be while rubbing the sleepiness away from their eyes. “Yeah, sorry I was late. Interviews ran over schedule.” “I take it you won?” He nodded, making his way to the kitchen for a glass of water. “You want me to take you home?” The question was void of emotion which made it sound like a burden and it probably was, which was totally fine. You checked your phone for the time, it was far too late to catch the bus. “It’s fine, I’ll call a cab.” “Okay, goodnight.” And with that Jungkook made his ascent up the stairs.
You watched him for a bit before standing up, stretching for the laborious task of calling a cab. “Oh and Y/N?” “Hmm?” You turned back around to face him and he gave you a small but genuine smile. “Thank you.” You gave him a smile back that was far wider than his. “Anytime.” And you meant it, you genuinely enjoyed spending time with Kyomi.
Unfortunately, Jungkook had taken your offer at the worst possible time. About a week after your spontaneous babysitting, you had caught a cold. With the seasons changing and the weather getting colder, you knew it was probably inevitable but you still hated it all the same. While you did your best to complete your course work through the burden of sickness, eventually you realised it was a bottomless pit of assignments and you’d much rather fail than conform to the unrealistic goals of college professors. Jin offered to take care of you like any good friend would but you foolishly rejected thinking you could handle yourself. You couldn’t. Even making coffee was a struggle.
Your nap was rudely disrupted by a phone call. You awoke from your slumber sluggishly, patting around your bed for the phone. “Jensen, for the last time I can’t help you if you lost a library book just pay the damn fee!” You angrily exclaimed into the phone, almost positive that the man on the other side was the guy who had called at least 3 times in the last hour. “Uhhh, it’s Jungkook.” The line felt silent as you checked the contact to see a private number and not Jensen. “Well, that’s embarrassing.” He hummed in response.
“So, I need you to watch Kyomi again, please.” “Another match this fast?” “No, I’m meeting someone.” “Oh…” It was in that very moment that you had realised that your feelings for Jungkook never entirely dissipated because you felt the familiar sting of jealousy in your chest, the one you'd learned to grow accustomed to all those years ago. You weren’t even sure if he was meeting that kind of someone, but it affected you all the same. “I’m really sorry but I’m sick.” Jungkook could hear it in your voice before you admitted it and he would’ve been lying if he had said he wasn’t concerned. “You alright?” You nodded, before foolishly realising that he couldn’t see you, rookie mistake. “Yeah I’m fine, it’s just a cold.” “Is anyone home with you?” He asked and you scoffed, followed by a loud coughing fit which definitely didn’t assist you in proving your point. “Jungkook, I’m 20-years-old. I don’t need someone to take care of me.” “I’m coming over.” And before you could even protest, the line was dead and you were in a state of frenzy.
You did your best to clean whatever you could, thankfully, being meticulous about your living area was useful in the off chance of spontaneous visitors. You couldn’t say the same about Jin’s room but that was why doors existed. Just when you had finished folding the designated couch blanket, a knock had startled you. You’d assumed he’d gotten your address the same way he got your number; through Namjoon who often visited for his boyfriend, Jin. You opened the door, uncaring about your sickly appearance. This man had seen you at your worst (pre-puberty) and there was no coming back from that. “You look horrible.” You rolled your eyes at his bluntness but moved away to let him in nonetheless. “Well, hello to you too!” You sarcastically whispered under your breath, but he caught it anyway. Of course he had superhuman hearing. “What was that?” he quirked playfully, raising his eyebrow in response. You didn’t bother to repeat it.
“I brought soup and medicine, wasn’t sure if you had any.” To be completely frank, you weren’t even aware there were medicines for colds. Was the normal procedure not to just let them pass? “Thanks. Where’s Kyomi, is she okay?” Jungkook found your genuine concern for his daughter heart-warming, he had seen a lot of people pretend to care about her to get closer to him and it hurt to say the least. He was still learning how to filter out the insincerity but that was a step in the right direction. “She’s hanging out with Namjoon and your roommate, I crashed their date before coming here.” You nodded understandingly before reaching for the container of soup. Fuck modesty, you were starving.
“You know, Jungkook…this doesn’t taste that bad?” Jungkook gave you an all-knowing look, as if what you had told him was a fact written in stone. “Big improvement from when you set a chicken on fire in the microwave.” Jungkook’s jaw dropped in offence but he was quick to jump to his defence. “Alright, no one told me aluminium was flammable.” “It’s a metal, Jeon. What did you think it would do?” Jungkook flicked your forehead lightly over the counter and for a second, you felt as if you were 8 again, fighting over toy cars for the sake of it. “You should probably keep a distance, Namjoon might kill me if you get sick.” He nodded in agreement and you felt your heartbeat slow at that. If you could keep him at a distance, you’d be fine. That weird philosopher that muttered ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’ would have to suck it because you needed to be right.
Falling for Jungkook all over again may be a fall you can’t recover from.
“Your fridge is filled with mineral water and flavoured milk. This can’t be sustainable.” You groaned, from your seat on the kitchen island, you just wanted to enjoy the soup guilt free. “If I wanted a nutritionist, I would’ve asked for one.” Jungkook didn’t reply, merely grabbed a bottle of mineral water and chugged half the thing in one gulp. “So, who were you meeting today?” You knew exactly how you sounded. Jealous, desperate, lonely. But you didn’t care, a huge part of who you were was being far too curious for your own good, you were infamous for that. “A woman.” You didn’t prod further. Getting Jungkook to let you into his home and meet his daughter (even if it was just as a makeshift babysitter) was more than enough for you and pushing your luck wouldn’t be a smart decision.
“What about you?” He questioned warily, tone apprehensive as if he was dipping his toes into icy water. “Hmm?” You were too invested in consuming the last of the soup to find an answer for his question. “You seeing anyone?” The spoon slipped from your hand onto the metal bowl with an uncomfortable clank. “No, I haven’t had the time and all the men I’ve met suck.” That was half true, you tried to date but something always went wrong before things could become official. You didn’t put out in a ‘reasonable’ time frame, you couldn’t allocate enough time to spend with them, you were too young, too inexperienced, too focused on school, not focused enough. There was always fault on your part and it encouraged you to simply give up. You’d have been a fool not to take the signs the universe was hurling at you.
“Even Jensen?” You laughed obnoxiously at the mention of the man you purchased an entire death note for. “Especially Jensen.”
When you were finally in the comfort of your bed again, you couldn’t sleep. Not when Jungkook was seated on a chair next to you with his hand on your head. “You have a bit of a fever.” He spoke softly, noticing the way your eyelids were heavy on your eyes. You made an effort to respond to him. “I’ll be fine. I ate, I took medicine, this is already more than I’ve ever done to treat a cold. My immune system’s probably throwing a party.” Jungkook chuckled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He couldn’t help but worry. It might’ve been because Jungkook was used to being a worried caregiver, or maybe it was because he always felt responsible for you when you were younger. “I’ll stay till your fever goes down and then I’ll get out of your hair, I promise.” You hummed in approval, too tired to do much else and from that point forward things began to deescalate.
Your fever went down and your breathing was smoother, there was nothing more that Jungkook could wait for and yet he did. He stayed in the uncomfortable chair for far longer than he should’ve, as if your sickly pale, sleeping face was the most interesting thing in the cosmos. “I’m sorry.” He muttered under his breath to no-one in particular though unconsciously he knew it was for you. You grew into your features well and maybe it was just the sickness but you seemed so tired, too tired for your age.
Every time Jungkook purchased a new phone, he made sure to use the same sim card so that he could keep his number. He never told you but he read all of your tangents, even when you stopped thinking he received them. Jungkook’s guilt, that had accumulated with every message had been masked by his misplaced anger, began to subside the night after you watched his daughter. Eventually, it all came crashing down onto him like a roof no longer supported by the pillars of his poor judgement. Jungkook shattered his phone during practice a year ago and couldn’t recover the SIM card and the guilt which was now at the forefront of his mind had him feeling responsible for ruining your childhood, even though he deemed you the sole conspirator for the tragedy that was his.
“Jungkook?” Your groggy voice pulled him out of his misery and he was quick to react. “I’m here.” He took your hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze although he realised soon enough that it was not what you were hoping for. "Go home, loser! I can take care of myself.” You swatted him away with no real intention of harming him though in your weak state he doubted you could if you wanted to. Jungkook knew you didn't need him because you didn’t just take care of yourself, you took care of his brother when he was on the grim edge of suicide, you took care of his parents when his absence was too powerful for them to cope with and you took care of your broken home, shuffling between two estates like a care package. Jungkook knew you could take care of yourself, he just wanted to make up for making you take care of his mess too. “Okay, okay, I’m going.” And with that he stood, feeling a small ache in his muscles from being seated for so long.
“Wait!” He was barely outside of your room before you called him again. “If it’s not too much trouble, you should come back with more soup.” Jungkook continued on his way, shaking his head in disappointment but chuckling nonetheless. You sighed when he left, weirdly enough you felt like you were on eggshells with him, as if he was always one mistake away from disappearing again. Disturbing your 15-minutes of solitude, Jin had returned from his date which you had unintentionally crashed, you would never hear the end of it. “You bitch. I had to share my date with a four-year-old because of you. And I’m cute okay but not cute enough to top a child, Y/N. You’re such a fucking cock-blocker, I'm never forgetting this.” And just like that, your piercing headache was back.
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“I don’t get it, Kyomi. You were fine with Y/N last week?” Jungkook felt like tearing his hair out of his scalp, despite his four years of experience, parenting wasn’t getting any easier. There were new hurdles hiding in the corner of every milestone, new triumphs came interlaced with new battles that hid behind the fleeting glory. “I miss Suzy!” Suzy was Kyomi’s old babysitter who Jungkook decided to forego because you offered to babysit his daughter for free and money didn't grown on trees. However, it felt like a mistake when he was on the receiving end of his daughter’s temper tantrum. She was normally level-headed but she was a child after all and it wasn’t her fault Jungkook barely knew what he was doing. “I know, baby, but she was going to have to leave eventually.” It was weird, trying to explain the issues with attachment to a four-year-old when he didn’t quite understand them himself. Jungkook had never been on the side of those left behind, after all he was a master at running away. “I. Want. Suzy!” Kyomi began to scream and stomp her feet they way four-year-olds do when they don't get their way and Jungkook needed to get to training so he caved, even though he knew he shouldn’t have. “Fine, I’ll call Suzy but this is your last day with her, understood?” She nodded with a tear-stained face and Jungkook knew very well he’d have to fix this mess later but he couldn’t afford not to humor her in that moment.
Thankfully, Suzy was free and understanding, despite being a college student, she tried her best to make time for Kyomi and Jungkook truly appreciated it which he thought he conveyed well through her hefty pay check. “I’ll be back before 8. Sorry, again.” Jungkook began to explain the second he opened the door but she was quick to wave him off. “It’s no biggie, I love watching her. She’s such an angel.” Jungkook scoffed at the irony but had no time to explain, hauling his ass out of the building with his gym bag hanging from his shoulder.
Something he’d forgotten to do in the midst of the chaos was call you and let you know that he’d no longer be needing your assistance which left you with quite a shock when a girl, barely older than you, had opened the door to his house. “Sorry I’m late I- Oh…is Jungkook here?” She shook her head, her beautifully styled curtain bangs framed her perfectly symmetrical face elegantly. “He said he’d be back around 8, I’m Suzy, his babysitter, would you like me to let him know you stopped by?” She gave you a warm, genuine smile which you found hard to reciprocate. Jungkook just had to find the most beautiful and seemingly kind babysitter there was to replace you without notice. “No, it’s fine but thanks for letting me know.” You left with whatever fraction of dignity you had left and a promise to have some words with Jungkook.
You did something wrong. You must have. Why else would Jungkook hire someone else when you were willing to watch his adorably sassy daughter for no charge? You kicked a stone on your way out of his driveway which was heavier than it looked. You winced, hopping to relieve the stress on the toe you had unintentionally stubbed. It only soured your mood even more, pushing you to send a strongly worded text message on your way to the bus stop because you had ordered an uber there and could not afford to splurge on one back. Being financially independent was harder when you didn’t have a car.
To: Jungkook
I don’t know why you felt the need to replace me but you could have at least said something instead of making me go all the way to your house only to humiliate myself because you already had someone watching Kyomi. That was a dick move. 😡 😡 😡 😡 😡
Delivered 17:43
You hoped the angry faces didn’t undermine your argument because immediately after sending, you realised they made your message look rather childish. But, there was no time to dwell on your texting mannerisms. You had dark brooding to do in the comfort of your home where you would rant Jin’s ears off.
Jungkook read your message during his water break and felt his levels of frustration reach an all-time high as he tried to inhale an entire litre of water in one gulp. “Jeon, get back here let’s work on your hooks!” His coach was also mad at him, but that he could deal with by following his rigid instructions, which meant putting down his phone without formulating a response to your angry proclamation which, to no surprise, only made you angrier.
Read 19:02
After checking your phone and realising he had read the message without responding you decided it was official. You hated him. After allowing the anger (and jealousy) to fester, you had officially decided you despised Jungkook. Not only did he read your message and not respond but Jin was not home to receive your venting, leaving you alone to handle your emotions alone without a figurative punching bag (or even a literal one, you weren't picky). While you had breezed through academics like a race car driver who’s rent was due, emotional intelligence was not something you could streamline but most of the time you could handle things maturely.
This was not one of those times.
Jungkook had called you around 8:30pm, but you didn’t bother answering. The silent treatment was both a petty and effective way to convey your discontentment. On the other hand, Jungkook was about one push away from a meltdown and really needed you to pick up. “Thanks for helping me get her into bed, Suzy. You’re an angel.” Jungkook may have been exaggerating but he meant every word, there was exhaustion seeping from every crevice in his body. “I don’t mind, I like her. You look really tired, let me make you some tea.” Suzy was a natural caretaker, when someone needed help she offered it and Jungkook was in no position to deny any help.
“She threw a tantrum for you, you know. I’m gonna need you to start sucking at your job a little before she forces me into making you my wife.” Jungkook was joking, he knew that, Suzy knew that and yet she still let her mind dwell, heat rushing to her cheeks at the comment. “Would that be so bad?” Jungkook didn’t answer. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t find him attractive, and if this really was the last time she’d be babysitting Kyomi, then making a move wouldn’t be unprofessional, right? “Here you go.” She set the mug on the coffee table in front of the couch where Jungkook was sitting, or slumping, more accurately. When she walked around to the back of the couch, Jungkook assumed she was getting ready to leave but he hadn't seen her walk towards the door. She stood behind Jungkook's couch, feet moving back and forth as she pondered whether or not she should confess. She decided against it in the very last minute, too afraid of being rejected. "Good luck, Mr Jeon. Thank you for everything." She left with a self-indulgent peck to his cheek and Jungkook had unknowingly upset yet another woman in his life.
“You should call him back.” Jin, being the ever-so wise man he was had been pestering you about the phone call you ignored. “What if he needs you?” You continued to focus on your paper for ethics, it was a bad idea to write about philosophy when angry but you needed it done and the hate fuel was pushing out 30 words per minute. “He has Suzy.” You mumbled under your breath in a spiteful tone, Jin held back the urge to roll his eyes. “You’re jealous of his babysitter? You’re down bad, Y/N. Real bad.” You scoffed in astonishment at his insinuation. “Am not.” “Are to.” “Am not.” “Are to.” “Am not.” “Then call him back.” You walked right into that one. “Fine.” You grabbed your phone with a brute force unparalleled by anything else on this earth. You were livid about being strong-armed into calling him back and even madder that Jin had been absolutely right. You were down bad.
You held the phone to your ear, essay long since forgotten and Jin out of the room in hopes that giving you privacy would calm you down. It did. “Hello, Y/N?” You were quiet on the other line. Every ounce of rage you had accumulated over the evening had evaporated at the sound of his soft, tired voice. You felt bad, even. “Hi.” Your voice was small, breathing even smaller but still audible and Jungkook could almost sense the hostility dissipate with every exhale. “I’m sorry for not calling you it just slipped my mind, honestly. Kyomi threw a tantrum about how she wanted to see her old babysitter again and I just couldn’t handle it. I’m really sorry, Y/N.” God, you felt like such an asshole for immediately assuming the worst. Jungkook was a grown man with genuine problems that you couldn’t even fathom having. You needed to be more considerate.
“I’m sorry too. I reacted immaturely, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt next time.” Jungkook felt the corners of his mouth move into a smile at the sound of a ‘next time’. Weirdly enough, spending time with you didn’t seem like the worst possible thing anymore. “I’m free tomorrow, how about I take you out to lunch to make up for the strenuous journey from your place to mine.” He was mocking you, but with such a kind preposition you couldn’t bring yourself to care. With a radiant smile that you were so glad he couldn’t see, you responded as monotonously as you possibly could. “Yeah, sure I guess.” Macho, real smooth. “Oh! Please bring Kyomi!” And with that shrill request, your tough exterior came crumbling down faster than your brain could process it. “I’m sure she’d love that.”
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Jungkook wasn’t sure if he could call that lunch a date but he was unconsciously treating it like one. He spent far too long picking out an outfit and even longer on his hair. He thought about tying it up but felt it was too intimidating and yet having it down felt too informal. In a true dilemma, he had entirely forgotten about getting his daughter ready too. In a rush, Jungkook haphazardly threw together a cohesive outfit and almost symmetrical pigtails but Kyomi was cute no matter what, she wasn’t the one with the problem. “Bub, do you think daddy looks better with his hair up or down?” Asking for advice from his 4-year-old daughter was about as low as Jungkook was willing to stoop, but if anyone knew him well, it was her. “Down. I can pull on it then!” She giggled, her advice entirely unhelpful in the long run, although the visual of you pulling his hair in an entirely different context had seemed enticing. Focus, Jeon. This is not a date. But it sure as hell felt like one.
And you weren’t doing much better, in fact, one could say that you were doing worse. “Jin, is this dress too much? I think it’s too much? Oh god, you think it's too much too!” A hot mess would be a severe understatement, Jin hadn’t seen you this rattled since your first ever mock trial and those were grim, grim, times. “Y/N, calm down. How about that cute white skirt you have? I think it’ll pair nicely with your pink crop top.” Jin did a good job at guiding you through the first crisis, but hair and makeup was an entirely different battlefield. “Go natural.” “What if I’m ugly natural?” Jin groaned, you weren’t even trying to be modest, this was a genuine concern. “You’re beautiful okay, stop overthinking you’re making us both stressed.” “You’re right, this probably isn’t even a date.” Jin sighed in frustration, he couldn’t win with you. “He asked you out to lunch. It would’ve been the perfect date if you didn’t drag his daughter along. Are you sabotaging this, do you still think you’re undeserving of love?” There was a lot to unpack in that sentence and Jin realised he went too far when you began to spiral. “Bad joke, I’m sorry. Look, you’ve spent time with him before without short-circuiting. You can do it again.” You just needed to remember that.
“I’m so sorry for being late!” You crashed into the booth Jungkook was in, barely missing the corner of the table as you tried to catch your breath. “It’s fine.” His lighthearted chuckle supported his statement but you still felt bad, even if it was just 10 minutes, it was not a very good impression. “Y/N!” Kyomi exclaimed from her seat next to her dad, she was cute and despite her betrayal (choosing Suzy over you </3 ), you couldn’t even hold it against her. “Hey cutie! I love your pigtails.” She giggled as you reached over to play with them. “Daddy did them for me.” Jungkook had a smug smile, shrugging to emphasise his apparent finesse. “I can tell.” Your sarcasm was met with an offended gasp but Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to feign offence when you were laughing so ecstatically. You always had a beautiful smile, he was glad he didn’t ruin that.
It was quiet for a while until Jungkook spoke up. “So, um- how’s Junghyun?” You lowered the menu to look at Jungkook who was deflecting eye contact by keeping his eyes trained on the list of specials. This was the first time he ever brought his family up, you tried to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. “He’s doing well actually, trying to start his own graphic design business. He’s engaged too, I haven’t met her yet though.” Jungkook tried not to let his relief show, but there was a weight on his shoulders ever since you told him Junghyun wasn’t doing well emotionally 4 years ago. He felt 200 pounds lighter. “Has he- Uh, When’s the wedding?” It wasn’t hard to see that Jungkook was struggling, after all not seeing your family for 6 years only to hear about them thriving without you was a hard pill to swallow. He was happy for his older brother, truly, but he kind of wished you had said that he missed him miserably. It was selfish, but he couldn’t help it. “Hasn’t set a date yet but you’re on the guest list, you know?” Your voice was soft, you were testing the waters, afraid to say something wrong. Jungkook’s knuckles were turning white from his iron grip on the menu. Evidently, even Kyomi could sense the tension. “I want ice cream.”
After a substantial amount of convincing and a promise for ice cream in the near future, Kyomi caved into getting an actual lunch instead of dessert. She had settled on a kids meal which consisted of a mini burger, fries and a juice pop. Frankly, you were quite jealous, you wanted a juice pop too. “Schnitzel for the lady. Steak for dad. How’s the meal kiddo?” Your waiter had been quite perky, he was probably your age, maybe younger but had a contagious smile and a likeable personality. Kyomi responded with a cute smile and a thumbs up, she knew not to speak while she was eating. Jungkook should write a parenting book.
“So, how have you been?” You were two bites into your schnitzel when you choked. “Shit, Y/N, chew.” You glared at him while drinking the water he’d thrusted into your hand. “Bad word, daddy!” You watched as Kyomi gave Jungkook’s bicep a playful punch. Your attempt not to laugh was a feeble one. “Should I learn the heimlich before I ask the next question?” “Funny, Jeon. Actually, I’ve been okay. I’m trying to be financially independent so I got a job at the campus library but my parents still pay my rent so its kind of counterproductive.” Jungkook gave you a skeptical look, one that ensued judgement. “Okay before you judge!! Rent is expensive and with a blackhole of a roommate like Jin, groceries literally take up half my pay cheque.” He held his hands up in defeat as he chewed through a mouthful of his medium-rare steak.
“Trust me, I know how expensive living alone can cost.” Jungkook didn’t mean to bring up his past or make you feel guilty for relying on your parents but he had done just that in one mere sentence and the tension thickened to the point of borderline tangibility. “I really am sorry you had to do that, Jungkook. But look at how well you’re doing.” You took his hand into yours and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re like carbon, you’re the strongest under pressure.” “You just had to slip a chemistry analogy in didn’t you? Nerd.” You snatched your hand away with an angry huff and Jungkook couldn’t say he didn’t miss your soft grip. “Way to ruin the moment.” You bitterly began to cut at your schnitzel again while Jungkook’s devious laughter filled the silence. It wasn’t until Kyomi innocently joined in that you felt true offence.
After you had finished your satisfying meals (although you did have to force Jungkook to help you finish your fries) Kyomi, who seemed immune to the exhaustion of eating, had demanded to be taken to the nearby park and who were you to deny her? Seated on a nice patch of grass under a tree, you watched as Kyomi played on the playground. Jungkook let you sit on his jacket because you were worried about your skirt getting dirty, perhaps chivalry wasn’t dead? “I regret wearing a skirt. I’m sorry about your jacket.” You were staring up at the sky through the breaks in the tree’s canopy as you spoke, Jungkook had his eyes trained on his daughter.
“Skirt’s cute.” When you turned to look at Jungkook, you weren’t surprised to see a stoic expression but you felt the blush creep up at his compliment anyway. “Thanks, I like your ripped jeans, they scream ‘millennial desperate to relate to the youngsters’” Jungkook’s scoff at your brutal backhanded compliment was loud and aggressive, he even broke concentration on his daughter for a split second to send a fierce glare your way. “Never complimenting you again.” You pouted jokingly, batting your eyelashes at him for comedic effect. “Oh, come on, I said I liked the jeans!” Jungkook’s hand moved to squeeze your face on impulse, by the time he thought to stop it, it was too late. “You’re trouble, Y/N, what happened to the good girl I knew 6 years ago?” The butterflies that had been dormant in your stomach for far too long had suddenly began flying with newly established speed. You stuck your tongue out at him after he let go of your cheeks to distract yourself from your newfound urge to jump him. Was he always that alluring?
“Daddy!” Kyomi had bombarded Jungkook’s lap with a force only a 4-year-old could possess. “Oof- what’s wrong, sweetheart?” She pointed to a small poodle who was walking through the park on a leash next to an old woman. “I want to pet it but I’m too scared to ask.” Jungkook groaned, head lulling backwards tiredly, the poodle was pretty far and he really didn’t want to get up. “I’ll take her?” Kyomi looked at you with hopeful eyes and Jungkook quickly nodded, the dog looked harmless anyway. “Come on, let’s go.” You held your hand out for Kyomi to take but she was far too excited to merely hold your hand, she dragged you forwards quickly, breaking out into a sprint towards the white fluff ball.
Jungkook watched you from a distance, glad he had someone to help when he was too prideful to ask. You had a weird intuition, some kind of radar for when Jungkook needed assistance. Like a spidey-sense, for a lack of better a word. Seeing Kyomi happy, genuinely happy, with you made his heart clench in his chest painfully. He knew whatever you both had was temporary, you’d eventually leave. At the end of the day it was just Kyomi and him. They only had each other and Jungkook couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t enough. “Daddy, daddy! She was so soft and her name was Miri and she was 4 years old! Just like me!” Jungkook made room in-between his legs for his bubbling daughter, like this he was at eye-level with her and could see the way her dimples grew when she smiled up close. Jungkook never thought he could love someone as much as he loved her but then again there were a lot of things in Jungkook’s life that he never knew were possible. Like reconciling with you, for example, or the spontaneous urge to kiss you in that very moment.
When Kyomi had returned to the playground, Jungkook couldn’t help but look at you gratefully, conveying the ‘thank you’ on the tip of his tongue. He was surprised when you moved to lay down, head on his leg which had been stretched out as he leaned back against a tree. When Jungkook hadn’t pushed you away, you took it as a sign to alleviate the awkward tension. “You should trim your nose hairs.” He looked down at you, hand grazing against his nose. “I already do? You know what let me see yours.” In attempt at being playful, Jungkook unconsciously positioned his face far too close to yours and you felt your heart rate soar exponentially as you giggled, trying to hide your nose from his prying eyes. Eventually he stopped to look at you and it felt like time stopped too, but before he could even think about inching closer, you pushed him away. You had to keep him at a distance if you didn’t want to get attached. “My nose hairs have nothing to do with your’s old man.” Jungkook couldn’t fight the smile plastered on his face.
“You’re fucked.” Namjoon stated, holding up pads that Jungkook was punching into for warm-ups. “I’m not, it was probably just the fact that I haven’t gotten laid in a few months.” Jungkook regretted telling Namjoon about the weird feeling in his chest because the wise man had immediately assumed the worst. Love. “Then get laid, I assure you, you’ll still wanna kiss her.” Namjoon was joking, he knew that, but he couldn’t help but feel as if there was some truth to his words. All he needed was a one night stand to rid himself of the intrusive thoughts. But he wasn’t sure if he was ready. Every sexual experience after her had been hard, he had a constant fear in his mind that something would fail and he’d end up like he did 4 years ago; alone, confused and too young to be a father.
“Head in the game, Jeon. Your punches are distracted.” Jungkook didn’t even hear his coach come in which only solidified the man’s concerns. “You okay? You’ve been off lately and if something’s wrong we need to fix it before the semis.” In all honesty, a lot was wrong. Jungkook hated boxing, he liked the adrenalin but the fear that one day he may not come back to his daughter had him panicking every time he put the gloves on. Jungkook hated being alone too, but he grew accustomed to it and somehow the idea of you changing that made him sick to his stomach. Jungkook hated his family. Or at least that was what he told himself when he found himself thinking about his brother or his parents. So yeah, a lot was wrong but all Jungkook could fathom was a bleak ‘I’m fine’ as he stepped down to get ready for his actual training.
“You’re improving, and you have a real shot at winning this, Jungkook, I’d hate to see you throw it all away for whatever bullshit’s bothering you.” Jungkook couldn’t blame his coach for his word choice, the man was 38 and single and with Jungkook being 24, the idea of him having a kid had never slipped his mind. He couldn’t blame him for not considering things he didn’t know about but he sure as hell wanted to. “I don’t want to box anymore.” It was quiet, hushed and apprehensive. The words felt heavy on his tongue and for a second, he thought his coach didn’t hear them. “I know, I’ve known for a while actually, you’re not as happy when you win anymore and look, I get it, it’s scary, it’s hard and it’s demanding but if you win the title, you’ll be set for life. Then you can retire and never lift a finger again.”
Jungkook had put his blood, sweat and tears into giving Kyomi a good life. He bought a large house with more room then he could ever know what to do with, he set up a savings account that put more to her 4-year-old name than most adults he knew and he didn’t cheap out on insurance; property, car, contents, life, health, optical. You name it, he’s probably got it. But the thought of doing something better, having more to give her, was enough for Jungkook to push his doubts behind and accept another match. He would do anything for his daughter, and if that meant risking his life a few more times he could handle it.
“Okay, but after this season’s over I’m out. I mean it.” Jungkook’s coach merely smiled at him, gave him a strong pat on the back and muttered ‘good lad’ under his breath. Weirdly enough, he considered him the father figure he never had. After all, he gave him a job when no one else would and if it wasn’t for him, he’d still be grovelling for work on Namjoon’s couch.
After practice, Jungkook had decided to follow through on Namjoon’s premise, to test whether or not he really had feelings for you or was sexually constipated. It was dumb, and he had taken it way too literally but before he could even begin to stop himself he was messaging you.
You mind staying overnight? Have something I need to do.
Read 21:39
Jungkook wasn’t surprised to see you read the message instantly, you were always near your phone.
No biggie n are you sure it’s something and not someone? ;)
Read 21:40
You sent the message in hopes of getting a specific reply. ‘Nope, I’m just off to do some overnight yoga’ or something else that was equally as lame. You may have seemed uncaring in the message, but there was no way you were going to truly reveal the fact that you were jealous. That would mean you would have to acknowledge your feelings, and that could have been seriously damaging.
Read 21:47
Jungkook’s late reply and the fact that he dodged your question like a predictable bullet had said more than he wanted to. You told yourself you didn’t care, but it was hard to lie to yourself when you were convinced you had no reason to. You tried not to dwell on it and tucked your phone away. Kyomi was excited to hear about a sleepover.
Jungkook felt out of place. The bar was loud and far too busy for a Thursday night but he persevered, sucked it up and took an open seat. His predetermined fears of losing his game were abruptly disproven when a girl had approached him before he could get his first drink. He didn’t really remember her name, doubted she remembered his but the night didn’t go as well as he would’ve planned, despite it’s almost perfect start. When Jungkook had prepared to leave the bar with her, he failed to feel that sense of luck or enthusiasm. Frankly, he didn’t feel much at all and even if it was just a one night stand, he knew she deserved better. Jungkook faked a phone call and told her he had to leave, she seemed a little disappointed, but it was nothing she wouldn’t get over.
Jungkook liked you, as more than just a friend and he needed to deal with those feelings before they’d metastasise in his chest and suffocate his heart.
It was almost midnight and Jungkook didn’t want to return home on the off chance that you were awake and ready to bombard him with questions. Your curiosity was simultaneously the worst and best quality you possessed. He walked around, the city a lot quieter in the middle of a weekday night, it was peaceful despite the harsh lights. He kept going, walking down the relatively empty street with very little direction. Everything was tranquil, for a little while at least.
A drunk middle-aged man had stumbled into Jungkook, grumbling something about how he should watch out. Even though it was in no way his fault, Jungkook didn’t humour him and continued on his way, a mistake evident in the fact that the grumbling didn’t stop there. “Oi! You’re not even gonna apologise, you ass?” The man grabbed Jungkook’s shoulder harshly and forced him to face him, he attempted to throw a punch but Jungkook moved faster. He yanked his arm off his shoulder and pushed him away. “Oh, you think you’re tough, huh?” Jungkook merely sighed in exasperation. In an attempt to diffuse the situation, he tried to walk again but it was not received well. With a newfound sense of anger and feigned sobriety, the man kicked Jungkook, causing him to fall forwards and scrape his cheek on the concrete path.
At his limit, Jungkook chuckled before dusting himself off, he stood up, face to face with the man a few inches shorter than him. “I’m going to give you one last chance to walk away.” Instead of taking Jungkook’s peace offering (and he really should’ve) he tried to throw another punch but this time Jungkook did more than just block. Losing the semblance of self-control he had left, he punched back, hard enough to send the man to the floor. Before he left, he called a cab for the clearly intoxicated man and continued on his way; he was angry, not a monster.
Frustrated and exhausted, he decided to go home. To hell with your questions, he wanted to take a shower and sleep. When he had made it back to his car, he took a moment to collect himself and clean the cut on his face. He really hoped it wouldn’t scar, he couldn’t imagine having to explain the story behind it.
When he had finally made it back to his home, Jungkook wasn’t surprised to see all the lights off. He didn’t expect to see you splayed out on the couch, though. Jungkook’s eyes panned over to the television, you were watching Ppongebob this time, he’d have to thank you for ensuring you were child-friendly at all times in his home later. Jungkook slowly made his way up the stairs so not to wake you and just when he thought he was out of the woods, he dropped his car keys and watched as they tumbled loudly down the glass staircase. There was no way you’d sleep through that.
You woke up panicked and sat up quickly in a haze. A bit like a meerkat but Jungkook could laugh about that later. Your eyes darted around to find the source of the noise and Jungkook could visibly see your shoulders slump in relief when you saw his figure at the top of the stairs. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up.” He was apologising sheepishly, hand on his neck as he deflected eye contact. You were more concerned about the cut on his cheek. “What happened to your cheek? Why are you home so early? Wait what time is it?” Jungkook didn’t know which question to tackle first, in fact he had really hoped you’d skip out on the interrogation. “It’s 12:48am, just sleep here, it’s too late to go anywhere. I’m guessing you know where the guest room is?” You nodded in response as you rubbed the sleepiness from your eyes. Jungkook felt guilty for waking you up, especially when you looked up at him with glossy eyes and puffy cheeks.
You definitely knew where the guest room was but there was a reason you never used it. First and foremost, it had a really big window that just so happened to showcase the trees surrounding Jungkook’s property. It was terrifying at night and there was no lamp. You could deal with the dark, but not when there was a scary window and far too much empty space. That’s why you preferred to sleep on the couch but there was no denying that you would not survive overnight on the uncomfortable leather. Just a nap was enough to make your shoulders hurt. Why are expensive couches always so uncomfortable? You took a deep breath and made your way to the guest room. You could do this, you were a grown woman, it was just a room.
It took you approximately 45 minutes of laying so incredibly still you may have petrified yourself for you to realise that you could not, in fact, do this.
The quiet patter of your feet could be heard in the halls, amplified by the empty space. When you finally reached what you assumed to be Jungkook’s room, your hands stopped tentatively on the handle. “Jungkook…” You whispered quietly, peaking your head through the door you had opened slightly so not to wake him abruptly. “I’m awake, what’s up?” You let out a sound of relief. “Thank god, do you mind if I sleep here with you?” Jungkook choked on thin air. You were startled by his coughing fit but moved closer to pat him on the back nonetheless. “What’s wrong with the guest room?” He spoke through huffs as he regained his breath. You prepared yourself for the embarrassment of having to explain your irrational fear of the room. “It’s scary.”
Jungkook tried not to laugh at your turmoil it wasn't hard to notice that you weren't kidding. "Seriously? " he tried in hopes that it would somehow make you realise just how ridiculous you sounded. However, he did not compensate for your previously established stubbornness or the severity of your fears. "Just let me sleep here, I can sleep on the floor if you want?" Jungkook didn't want you to sleep on the floor, but the idea of sleeping next to you terrified him. You felt the same, in fact, this went against your significant rule to stay as far away from him as possible. But, sleep was a necessity you couldn't compromise no mater how many heart palpitations being close to him gave you.
“No, no, it’s fine. I’ll take the guest room.” That option also ran through your head, however, seeing Jungkook’s room and it’s parallel windows you realised it was not much better. “Why do you not have curtains?” The question caught Jungkook off-guard, he was half-sitting, ready to evacuate the bed so you could take over. “I wake up early and my house is surrounded by trees so no peeping neighbours. Never needed them.” He shrugged after his simple explanation and surveyed the way you bit your lip in concentration while staring at the two large windows in his room. “Not a fan of the windows?” You looked back at him and felt guilty. He looked tired and you were the one thing stopping him from rest. You could handle one sleepless night, or maybe you would take your chances with the couch. “You know what, I changed my mind I’m being ridiculous. I’ll sleep in the guest room, okay?” You scrambled out of the room before Jungkook could even protest but there was no way he would be able to rest easy knowing you were uncomfortable at his expense.
So, a good 15-minutes after you had sprinted out of Jungkook’s room like it was lit on fire, he had made his way to the guest room downstairs. “Still can’t sleep?” Jungkook’s house was so dark at night that you could barely even make out his silhouette which made his spontaneous voice all the more terrifying. Jungkook heard a small yelp, a crash and then a muffled groan of pain. He switched on the light only to see you cradling your elbow which had presumably collided with the bedside table. “I’ll be fine, I’m just dramatic.” Jungkook clearly wasn’t buying it and you felt your throat constrict, growing tighter with each step he took towards you. “Scoot over, I like sleeping on the side closest to the door.” Huh? Who would’ve thought Jungkook wanted to be the first dead in a house invasion? “Suit yourself.” You made room for him next to you because the fear of whatever the hell you felt for Jungkook was slightly smaller than your fear of those goddamn trees.
“Should we make a pillow wall?” Jungkook was glad he had switched off the lights so you couldn’t see the amused smile on his face. “I can keep my hands to myself, how about you?” You gulped, almost positive Jungkook could hear how fast your heart was hammering against your ribcage, or maybe he could feel the heat radiating off of you as if you were a piece of molten rock. “I’m good.” You tried to reply but it ended up sounding more like a squeak. Thankfully the words were coherent because all Jungkook did was turn over.
With his back towards you, a weight was lifted off your shoulders but you couldn’t quite sleep yet. You had a habit, a stupid, overgrown habit of cuddling your almost infinite supply of stuffed animals to sleep. It started when you were young, to fill the void that your broken family left you and stuck well into adulthood because you were just as lonely, if not even lonelier. You should really see a therapist. However, what truly troubled you was the possibly precarious fact that at any given moment, your need for something to hug would manifest itself into your subconscious and force you to hug Jungkook despite the inappropriateness of the action. The embarrassment of a situation that hadn’t even occurred yet was already beginning to daunt on you.
So you turned your back to face the windows (which didn’t seem all that scary anymore) in hopes of minimising your risk of unsolicited cuddling. Sleep came easy after you had focused on synchronising your breathing with Jungkook’s out of pure convenience and once you had slipped into unconsciousness, you could slowly feel your anxiety slip away.
When you had woken up the next morning to a body close to yours, you began to feel panic swallow you almost immediately but once you had finally blinked the blurriness away from your vision, you realised you were in the exact same position you had fallen asleep in, except this time a little bit closer to the centre of the bed. One look downwards made you aware of the fact that Jungkook was the one cuddling you and he had somehow pulled you closer to him throughout the night. ‘I can keep my hands to myself.’ He said. What a liar.
You couldn’t say it didn’t feel nice and you selfishly tried to fall back asleep in hopes of making the moment last just a bit longer. When you turned your head to face Jungkook, he had been deep in slumber and it was the most peaceful you had seen him since - well, did you ever really see him at peace? Jungkook must have somehow sensed your gaze because he was blinking the sleep away from his eyes moments later. “Morning.” His morning voice was warmer, less sharp and yet all the more comforting. You were too busy being stressed about being caught admiring his sleeping face to truly appreciate his voice. “Morning.” You replied apprehensively, as if you could somehow postpone your humiliation.
“You were about to fall off the bed so I pulled you away from the edge, guess I feel asleep like that, sorry.” Jungkook was pulling his arm away before you could beg him not to and suddenly, the sound of small feet and ragged sniffles had engulfed the room. “Daddy! Thank god!” Kyomi jumped onto the bed, in-between your bodies, with a brute force, no mercy for Jungkook’s organs which had definitely experienced some internal repositioning. “I thought you were dead. I woke up and you weren’t in your room. You’re always in your room, daddy!” You tried not to laugh at Jungkook’s glazed expression, his perception of reality was just beginning to form.
“Sorry, baby, won’t happen again.” Jungkook’s groggy, deep morning voice may have been the very reason you were having unnecessary intrusive thoughts at 8:49am on a Friday but you wouldn’t dare stop it. Wait, 8:49am?
“Shit, I’m gonna be late to class.” You rushed out of the bed, barely untangling yourself from the mess of limbs between Jungkook’s legs and yours. “That’s a bad word, Y/N!” “Sorry!” You screamed back from the living room as you searched frantically for your bag. Any other class you wouldn’t mind being late to but your torts professor was pure, unadulterated evil. Satan’s incarnate if there ever was one and you did not want to be stuck helping her grade first-year papers on Saturday. “You look like you could use a ride.” There it was again, that sexy, stupid voice that made you want to scream into the void without ever stopping. “Yes please.” Once you had finally found your bag, you were rushing to shove your feet into your sneakers. Thankfully you didn’t wear converse, that could’ve been a disaster.
Jungkook grabbed his wallet, keys and daughter before meeting you at the door. You were much too stressed to wait for him to put on a pair of shoes so you snatched the keys from his hand and ran down his driveway. “Wait, Y/N, you’re not driving!” There were many reasons you shouldn’t have been behind the wheel. One, you were still on your learner's permit. Two, there was a 4-year-old child in the vehicle. Three, you were very likely to end up speeding to get to class and finally, Jungkook’s Mercedes was far too expensive to risk third-party damage, even if he had every kind of insurance. “I know, I’m just turning the engine on so you can floor it the second you get in.”
He did not floor it.
Alternatively, Jungkook was just about the safest driver you had ever seen. His driving style in stark contrast to the tattoos that littered the hand he had on the wheel, stretching all the way up to his shoulder. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had any tattoos underneath his shirt. Snap out of it. “So, when’s your class?” Jungkook looked at you through the rear view mirror and could faintly see the top-half of your head as you combed through your hair and applied makeup. Jungkook could feel the corners of his lip upturn at the way your tongue peeked out the corner of your mouth while you concentrated on your mascara. You just woke up and you still found a way to make his heart stop.
“9:30, but my professors a real b- bad person.” You corrected yourself before Kyomi could in her booster seat next to you. You told Jungkook sitting at the back gave you more room to get ready, really you just wanted to see more of Kyomi before your inevitable death. “You’ll make it on time, don’t worry.” You hoped he was right, the university was a 15-minute drive at it’s fastest and Jungkook, in spite of his gorgeously intimidating looks, was not hurled out of a Fast and Furious movie.
Jungkook was right, you made it to class at 9:20, a little disheveled and in yesterday’s clothes (you really hoped that the sweatshirt you fished out of Jungkook’s trunk per his instruction would cover that up) but otherwise fine, and early. You would live to see another day. However, you could not say that you were able to stay awake for the entire duration of the lecture, thankfully, nobody seemed to notice and when the class was finally over, all you could think about was sleep.
Two days later, you had woken up early in the morning with a heavy groan. You had a shift at the campus library. 7-12. You stretched out the exhaustion in your bones but it did little to help, you were far too young to feel this much back pain. “Hey, I’m going grocery shopping today so make sure to update the list before you leave.” You threw a meagre thumbs up towards Jin in response, but your roommate didn’t care for your disgruntled demeanour. You were always like this before your shifts.
Not even 2 hours into your shift, you saw the devil’s incarnate before your very eyes. “Hey, cutie, whatcha doin’?” You ignored the urge to gag as he threw finger guns your way, Jensen definitely had it out for you. “Working but you already knew that. Why else would you be in a library? You don’t read.” It was true, Jensen rarely ever stepped into this place before you started working there. His commitment to annoying you was admirable even if he lived on campus. “I’m here to see your adorable face.” Jensen pinched your nose playfully and you flinched at the impact, he was so goddamn irritating you were very literally considering homicide.
“Look, I know we haven’t always gotten along, but I really want to try to make amends and you’re not helping.” If this had been anyone else, your harsh resolve may have faltered, you may have felt sympathy even. But Jensen was one stone cold mother fucker, making amends would not benefit him in anyway and was therefore not on his agenda. He wanted something from you. “What do you want? Did you really lose that Dickens book? Because I can’t help y-” “Hang out with me.” Flirtatious comments weren’t outside of his norm, he employed them often for extra annoying affect™ but Jensen never asked you to hang out or hinted that he may have been the slightest bit interested in you, even platonically. “No.” You deadpanned, you genuinely believed that he had some sort of ulterior motive, he must have if he was coming to you for friendship.
“Come on, just one time. One time, and if you don’t realise that I’m not the asshole you think I am I’ll never speak to you ever again, I promise.” The idea of a Jensen-free life was extremely intriguing, after all you were confident that you would still find Jensen an insufferable asshole after whatever kind of hell he’d put you through. He clearly thought he could use some of his outdated boyish charm and win you over. You were more than happy to crush his ego and get rid of him in one night. Two birds with one stone. “Why, you never found me interesting before?” “Wrong, I always found you interesting not my fault you hate my guts. Look, in all honesty I’m sick of sleeping around and partying with people who secretly hate me. I want to spend time with a genuine person for once and even though you despise me with every fibre of your being, you’ve been upfront and sincere with your feelings since day one. I need that.”
What was that? Were you feeling remorse? For Jensen? Really? This wasn’t going to end well.
“Fine, but how do I know you won’t just keep annoying me?” Jensen froze for a moment, almost as if he was in thought, too bad he was not capable of thinking. Suddenly, Jensen surged forward to place his mouth next to your year. He whispered something very despicable that he had done to his father’s car and pulled away. “If you want nothing to do with me and I don’t leave you alone then you can tell my father what I just told you.” Blackmail, bold of him to assume you wouldn’t hold this over his head for the rest of his life, if it was even true of course. In the case that he was lying, you’d just end up in the same position you were in and if he was telling the truth, then you would live a very peaceful life for the semester and a half you had left. It seemed like a worthy bargain. “Deal.” Before you and Jensen could shake on it, your phone rang.
You weren’t technically supposed to answer but the library was dead and the librarian was on her tea break so what was the harm in a quick phone call? “Hello?” You learnt from your mistakes and read the caller ID that time, after realising it was Jungkook who probably wanted you to babysit Kyomi again, you answered quickly. Jensen noticed the smile that immediately overtook your face. “Hey, Y/N.” “What’s up? Need me to watch Kyomi?” Jensen was trying to deduce from the snippets of the conversation, who could make you smile that brightly. On the other side of the phone, Jungkook was bitting his lip, cautiously questioning whether or not he was making the right decision; acting on his emotions had never ended well for him.
“No, I just dropped her off she’s at a playdate with a friend she met at the park a while back. Her mom’s amazing, helped me a lot with parenting tips.” Jungkook overshared and deflected, he did that often when he was nervous but there was no way to stop the word vomit from flowing out. “Oh, that’s so cute!” You were grinning and Jensen was appalled at the sight, he even mocked your tone ‘oh, that’s so cute!!!’ and you flicked his forehead with a scowl, mouthing ‘shut up’ in response.
“I was wondering if you wanted to join me for lunch today, we could watch a movie after too? If you’re not busy.” If Jungkook was nervous, you couldn’t tell. He spoke with a tone so confident you wondered if you had actually hung out like this a million times already. “I would love to, I get off work at 12!” You agreed on impulse, before your brain could catch up with your racing heart. Jensen spared you from the mocking, but he couldn’t deny the way his chest tightened at your beaming acceptance, if only you could respond to his proposals that way. After the words had left your mouth and Jungkook promised to pick you up after your shift, you were left with your thoughts which had to make room for a new revelation. You liked Jungkook, borderline loved him and no amount of physical distance could change that.
Deep in thought, you began to think that perhaps, you weren’t destined for solidarity. Perhaps, you were as deserving of love as everyone else. Perhaps, and this was merely hypothetical, there was hope. You were being dramatic, blowing things out of proportion but how could you not when Jungkook had suggested something that sounded a lot like a date. However, considering how the last almost-but-not-quite-there ‘date’ had gone, this could have very well been just another platonic invitation to do platonic things.
“Y/N, hello? Earth to Y/N?” You broke out of your trance after Jensen had started snapping at you like a puppy. “Oh my god, what do you want?” There it was, annoyed Y/N was back and Jensen felt a sense of accomplishment every time you glared at him “Who was that?” “No one.” Your defensiveness definitely alluded to something. “Is it a boy? Is he cute?” “I already agreed to your stupid scheme, you can go now.” “You like him, don’t you?” You whined at his incessant prodding and Jensen knew he struck gold. Was it upsetting that you were already interested in someone? Yes. That didn’t matter though, especially when Jensen promised you he was looking for nothing more than friendship. He could set his entirely unexpected feelings aside.
When you had gotten back to your apartment, you had 40 minutes before Jungkook would pick you up which was objectively enough time to get ready for a casual lunch. However, that justification would not stop you from stressing over what to wear, nothing on god’s green Earth could. Jin was busy grovelling through all of his achievements to apply for a TA position in hopes of easing the fees from his masters and you weren’t in the mood to deal with his wrath (which was inevitable every time you distracted him).
You settled on a white velvet white sweater and a pair of leggings. You looked comfortable and not quite like you had rolled out of bed on a bad day. You decided to forego any makeup because overdoing it would have been much more embarrassing than underdressing. Before you could decide to completely change everything about yourself for the umpteenth time that day, Jungkook had called your phone, letting you know he was outside your building.
With a final look in the mirror and a cliche ‘you’ve got this, Y/N’, you were on your way.
Jungkook made some sort of creamy pasta, you couldn’t remember the name for the life of you because your mind had been flooded with thoughts of how gorgeous Jungkook had looked. You’d seen him in workout attire, in a suit and yet his homely look was hands down your favourite. You clearly were not doing a good job at hiding that. “You okay? You look like you saw a ghost.” You might as well have because you were just as, if not more, afraid then you would’ve been in the case of a supernatural interaction. At least a ghost was clear with their intentions. You had no idea why Jungkook had invited you over looking like sex on legs and the curiosity was killing you.
“You want something to drink, wine? Or are you still adamant on keeping your liver intact?” You briefly remembered when you had found Jungkook 17 and drunk, you could vaguely recall the lecture you had given him, something about your liver evidently thrown in there. “Water’s fine- wait, do you have apple juice?” Jungkook surveyed the contents of his fridge and reached in only to grab a kids pop top. He looked at you sheepishly, almost disappointed that this was the only thing he had to offer. “I can pour it into a-”
“And prevent me from the joy of the satisfying pop? Hand it over, daddy.” You didn’t mean it that way, you definitely didn’t mean it that way and if it wasn’t obvious from your tone, than the way you had merely focused on opening the seal on the juice rather than panicking like Jungkook was had done the job of conveying your very innocent intentions. That didn’t stop Jungkook’s mind from going there and you had picked up on your mistake when the room had fallen into an awkward silence. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” You offered a genuine apology, cheeks flushed with the realisation of what your actions had insinuated. Jungkook waved you off, stuffing his mouth with pasta to justify his speechlessness.
“This is really good. Did you buy it?” You gave Jungkook a skeptical look that he countered with a pointed glare while taking a swig from his wine. You were being entirely serious, before Jungkook had run away he was an abomination in the kitchen. “How many times do I have to cook for you to realise that I just became a culinary god?” You took the rhetorical question too seriously and Jungkook braced for the snarky comment you were going to inevitably make. “If you can make macarons, then you will officially be a culinary god.” Jungkook wasn’t big on baking, he made cupcakes with Kyomi for her fourth birthday but cupcakes were significantly easier than macarons. He made no comment and lunch continued on peacefully.
“You done?” You looked down at the almost empty plate that you hadn’t touched in a good few minutes and nodded. When Jungkook moved to clear the table, you offered to help but he shut you down so confidently there was no room for protest. You watched his broad shoulders clear the plates and rinse them. He grew up to be such an incredible man, he defied every one of his parents stereotypes triumphantly. He was successful, happy and had a beautiful daughter. All of that without a single ‘A’ in his life. “What are you smiling about?” He joked, hand coming up to flick the bottom of your chin playfully. You snapped out of your trance with a timid smile that pushed Jungkook to wonder if he had done something wrong.
In all honesty, you were trying hard not to focus on the way your heart would expand three times its size every time his eyes met yours. You were trying to ignore the way your hands would get clammy when he was near you and you definitely didn’t want to think about the jealousy that consumed you every time he spoke about a girl that wasn’t you. But you did and the question slipped off of your lips before you could stop it, like an avalanche against the crisp winter wind, you didn’t stand a chance. “Remember when you told me you were meeting someone a while ago…what um- what happened with that?” There was no way to stage the question cooly, no way to protect your pride and quench your curiosity. “Oh! I was meeting a sponsor.”
You stared at him flabbergasted.
“A sponsor? But you- you even asked me if I was seeing anyone!” Jungkook had the audacity to chuckle, chuckle, at your turmoil. You had been thinking about who Jungkook was meant to meet that night for far too long for it to just be a sponsor. “Wanted you to think I had my shit together. I haven’t dated anyone in a while.” You tried not to let your ego inflate at the notion that Jungkook wanted to impress you and hyper-focused on the last sentence which brought you an embarrassing amount of relief. “And Thursday night?” You watched as his gaze hardened at the mention of that horrible night, the cut on his cheek was still healing from the altercation. “Thursday night was a bust. I tried but I just couldn’t. All I could think about was Kyomi.” And you, but Jungkook knew better than to say that part aloud. You took his hand in yours, you were both standing in his kitchen and it was possibly the least romantic place of all but that didn’t stop you from staring at him with the softest, most loving eyes you could possibly muster. “Someone will come, and they’ll love you and Kyomi with their entire heart.” And it could be me, but you didn’t say that aloud either. Before the tension could get thicken, Jungkook diffused. “Movie?” You let go of his hand and nodded.
Choosing a movie was harder than you thought it would be.
“What?! Are you insane? I cannot believe you just said that. I can’t believe I let you into my house!” If a bystander had been listening, they would’ve assumed that you insulted Jungkook’s entire lineage but no, all you did was suggest that ‘Fast & Furious’ had too many sequels. “I’m sorry, okay. I just think 9 movies is pushing it.” “How many Harry Potter movies are there, like 50? You used to be obsessed with that shit.” You tried not to be offended at his choice of words, you took a deep breath before attempting to reason with him. “8 films actually and I’m not obsessed anymore okay… Let’s just watch the avengers or something.” His irritated gaze had softened at the mention of the MCU which was something you could both agree was worth your time. “Which movie is your favourite?” “Infinity war.” “You’re wrong, it’s Age of Ultron.” “That’s subjective.” “Not if you have good taste.” Well, the mere 15 seconds of peace were great while they lasted. You didn’t want to argue anymore so you merely nodded in defeat and Jungkook moved quickly to find the film on Disney plus.
However, for Jungkook’s favourite Avenger’s film, he had paid little attention to the movie. His eyes barely diverted from you for most of the opening of the film, it wasn’t until you faced him to laugh about some comedic foreshadowing that you had noticed his hazed stare. “Hmm, what’s wrong? Do I have something on my face?” He shook his head quickly before retracting back into thought until he eventually decided to voice his concerns.
“Do you remember when I was 14 and you chased me all the way to the beach because I was upset and wouldn’t tell you why? And I told you some assholes were making fun of my name and you told me that only you could make fun of me so you waltzed over to them the next day, a good foot shorter and yelled at them in front of my entire grade.” How could you forget when Jungkook had so vividly explained it. It was an embarrassing memory you tried to suppress but Jungkook had singlehandedly destroyed your efforts. “Yeah?”
“I was mad at you because you made me look weak in front of everyone in my grade but those boys never bothered me ever again and I never said thanks… So, thank you.” You looked at Jungkook who was entirely serious, not a single part of his face wavered under your astonished expression. Your mouth dropped in disbelief. “You’re welcome, I guess? Where’s this coming from?” You tried to pry into Jungkook’s brain and weirdly enough, he was willing to let you which was a peculiar thing he had done that quite a bit that day. “There’s a lot of thanking I have to catch up on, felt right to start from the beginning, no?” Movie long forgotten, you and Jungkook peered into each other’s eyes as if something behind those orbs was the key to existence. As if the answers to every significant philosophical question were woven into the streaks of your eyes.
Jungkook rarely acted on his hedonistic urges, an unexpected kid taught him not to, but he couldn’t help the way his lips gravitated towards yours. He wondered if you felt the same way, if you were thinking of some weird chemical explanation like electromagnetic radiation, whatever the hell that was. On Jungkook’s slightly uncomfortable couch, under a fluffy blanket with Disney princesses on it and watching a movie neither of you had been paying full attention to, you felt the most at peace you had been ever since your parents divorce. It scared you to think that Jungkook could make you that happy, especially when he so plainly not yours.
“Can I kiss you?” Jungkook whispered and you didn’t notice how close you had gotten until you could feel his breath on your skin, your body answered for you as you pushed to close the distance between your lips. If you were magnets, you would definitely be oppositely charged because you never wanted to pull away. Eventually, because oxygen was an innate part of life, you pulled away. You, far too eager, quickly chased his lips and in spite of every temptation that was stacked against him, Jungkook pushed himself away, still close enough so that your noses were touching. “I need to know that we’re on the same page here. I like you, Y/N and I want to give this a shot.” You couldn’t even begin to explain the relief that rushed over you and the excitement that coursed through your veins, interlaced with misplaced adrenaline that made you agree a little too quickly. “We are definitely on the same page.” And this time, when you had moved to kiss him, he didn’t push you away. Instead, your lips found purchase against his and as cliche as it sounds, it felt like home, being in his arms again despite the fact that you failed to get along in the ancient beginning. You depended on Jungkook for a long time once upon a time and you were elated to have him by your side again.
Before things could escalate - although with Jungkook’s heavy distrust in protection you doubted they ever would - Jungkook’s phone rang. The default Apple ring tone resonated in his apartment and you let him answer begrudgingly, already missing his lips against yours which were definitely swollen from all the biting. Jungkook was a good kisser, that was a fact written in stone. “Hello, everything okay?” His fingers moved to answer the call quickly, it was Jen, the woman who’s daughter Kyomi was hanging out with. “Everything’s fine, Jeon.” She chuckled into the phone at his worried tone, he was always worried when it came to his daughter even more so than her but she never blamed him. He was running a two-person ship alone. “The girls are both pretty tired, you mind picking her up before they start a fight over legos?” Jungkook laughed and you perked up at the mellifluous sound, trying to figure out who Jungkook was on the phone with that was more important than you. >:c
“I’ll be there soon, thank you so much for having her over. I’ll have to invite Sam over sometime too.” A few empty promises about future playdates later and Jungkook was finally off the phone. “Are you going to pick Kyomi up?” You asked, having deducted that much from the snippets of the conversation you had heard, Jungkook made a sound of agreement in response, stretching in front of the couch. “Can I come?” Your question painted a smile on his face, one he couldn’t put away even when he leaned down to give you a peck. “Of course, want me to drop you off?” You shook your head quickly, response far too quick which Jungkook couldn’t help but find endearing. Your cheeks flushed as you tried to find an explanation that didn’t make you sound like an absolute perv. “We um, haven’t finished the movie…” You pointed to the screen that was undoubtedly still playing the movie you had stopped paying attention to. Jungkook quirked an eyebrow at your obvious lie but made no move to debunk it, he just grabbed his wallet and keys off of the counter and cocked his head towards the door, gesturing for you to get up.
Kyomi knocked out in her booster seat, much too exhausted from the fun she had at her friend’s house. Your head was pretty much permanently turned to the backseat to coo at her. Jungkook kept trying to stop you, afraid you’d wake her up and he’d end up with a grumpy Kyomi. “Calm down, I’m just looking at her. She’s so cute.” Jungkook pinched your side when the car had stopped at a red light. “You’ll have all the time in the world to stare at her when she’s awake, okay? Once she wakes up it’s impossible to get her to sleep again.” You listened to Jungkook’s pleading and returned your focus to the road, his hand slipped from where he had playfully pinched you to rest on your thigh. In an attempt to hide the blush on your cheeks, you complained that the car felt suffocating and opened the window. Jungkook didn’t question it, at least not out loud.
Once Kyomi was safe in her room, sleeping away in the comfort of her bed that was probably worth more than your kidney, Jungkook returned to find you on the couch playing a cat game on your phone. It was really simple, but it seemed to occupy all of your attention enough for you to miss Jungkook entirely until his head was next to yours. You smiled when his lips pecked your cheek, his hand coming up to turn your head to face him. You kissed him distractedly, eyes still pinned to your game. With an annoyed groan Jungkook snatched the phone from your hand, discarding it behind him onto the couch. You whined into the kiss but paid full attention to him nonetheless, when he pulled away you were frowning.
“I was about to unlock a new cat, you know?” And it was a genuine issue, those cats were hard to unlock! Jungkook feigned sympathy which only seemed to piss you off even more so Jungkook pulled away, raising his hands in defence as he mumbled an apology. Wanting to get up, you moved to raid his kitchen for a snack. And yes, you understood that the man was a boxer who needed to stay fit but was it necessary to be so painstakingly healthy? His pantry was filled with wholegrain cereals, oats, nature valley bars and what you assumed was some sort of protein shake container. Even Kyomi’s snacks were healthy; raisins, popcorn, corn chips. No wonder he judged your food supply so harshly, this man was a living health commercial. You returned to the couch empty handed, hungry and annoyed. Were you exaggerating about the cat game thing? Sure, but the hunger had certainly played a part in your annoyance.
“You hungry? You didn’t finish your pasta.” God, he sounded like a dad more and more every time he spoke. “I’m okay.” You lied and drew your knees up to your chest to support your brooding face. You were being a little dramatic but you both knew well enough that it was all in jest, at least for the most part, that cat really did matter to you. “Mmm, I don’t believe you. I can make you something?” You shook your head and moved to grab the remote to his TV so you could finish the damn movie that he fought so hard to watch but doesn’t even care about, but, Jungkook wasn’t convinced. The way you snatched the remote told him you were far from fine even though you were not trying to send any subliminal messaging. He left the couch but you paid little attention to where he went, you probably should’ve because then you could’ve prepared your poker face for when he had returned with a plate of your favourite fruit. Consequently, you felt your frown begin to alleviate, and were your eyes softening? Over watermelon? You’re so whipped it’s disgusting. You stared at the plate of cut up watermelon like it was a marriage proposal. He remembered. Or maybe it was just a lucky guess.
“Ah ha! I knew this would work.” Jungkook had a proud smile on his face, mirroring your small one as he handed you a fork. You barely mumbled out a ‘thank you’ before you raided the plate, careful not to drop anything because you did not want to be perceived as a slob and you’d had enough of watermelon stains (thank you, Jin) for a lifetime. Jungkook sat back and paid attention to the movie he initially suggested, but he still had no interest in the film, not when you were next to him with red lips and focused eyes.
Jungkook had a lot to ask you and he had a lot of issues he needed to sort through but those were difficult things to navigate and Jungkook was sick of difficulty. He was lucky you were so understanding about the radio silence from your family and his but he knew that he’d eventually have to speak to them again, it was inevitable and that alarmed him. To think that at any given moment, 6 years worth of baggage could tear you both apart. “You should get seedless watermelons.” Jungkook turned away from his TV to give you a quizzical look. “They make those?” You almost choked on the last piece with a laugh. “Genetic modification, they can make anything. You know there’s apples with red flesh? They’re red inside and out, Jungkook, it’s so cool!” You could almost sense the ‘nerd’ sitting on his tongue but he didn’t say it, he merely smiled at you in disbelief. “You know what, Y/N, entirely red apples are cool!” Jungkook wasn’t trying to be sarcastic but he couldn’t skilfully feign interest in whatever the hell you were talking about. “Don’t patronise me.”
When you got up to put the plate away and wash your hands, Jungkook had come up behind you and wrapped his hands around your waist. You heard him coming, he wasn’t necessarily the quietest person ever but you could deal with a little noise if it always came in such a cute package. “Jungkook you’ve watched like 2% of your favourite movie. I’m starting to think you’re a liar.” Before you could continue your mischievous criticism, Jungkook’s lips began making their way down your neck, starting at the crevice between your ear and neck, all the way down to your clavicle. You were going to protest, push him away and declare that you were moving too fast but his lips were addictive, like morphine if the opioid made you feel like you were on cloud nine.
However, your cloud was temporary because the second the soft patter of small feet resonated off of the kitchen counter Jungkook had flinched away from you like a hand on a burning stove.
“Daddy?” Kyomi, still rubbing her eyes and far too young to understand the tension she had created had gestured grabby hands at her father who quickly moved to pick her up. “Hey cupcake, you still tired?” She shook her head despite the way her eyelids heavily rested on her eyes or the way her head kept nuzzling into his neck. He knew better than let her sleep any longer though, she’d keep him up all night. Speaking of things that kept him up at night, where did you go? The kitchen was now void of any presence other than him and his daughter and he couldn’t see you on the couch.
“Y/N?” He yelled out, a little concerned but more perplexed at the way you disappeared into thin air. “I’m in the hallway!” Jungkook, daughter still perched on his hip, made his way to his hallway only to see you shoving your feet into your shoes. “You’re leaving already?” Jungkook had a feeling, a burning intuition that you were upset about the way he reacted when his daughter had run in but you had to understand that introducing a girlfriend to a child was difficult. Wait, were you even his girlfriend? Did he manage to screw that up too? “I realised I have homework due in like an hour and I haven’t even started. I’ll take the bus it’s coming soon, anyway. Thank you for dinner and the watermelon! Bye bye, Kyomi.” You waved exaggeratedly to the little girl who matched your energy despite her tired state, you gave her a quick peck on the cheek before leaving.
Jungkook believed you, your smile was genuine and you were mature enough to understand why he couldn’t exactly tell his daughter about you yet. Besides, it had been the very first time you had both perceived each other in a setting other than platonic friends. He wasn’t wrong, you were telling the truth but that didn’t change the fact that his actions left a bitter taste on your tongue.
“Daddy, I wanted to play with Y/N…” Kyomi was pouting, upset at the fact that you had to go right when she woke up and all Jungkook could muster was a sigh and a quiet, “me too.” And he was genuine, he wanted to spend more time with you but his daughter and increasingly tight schedule made that difficult. “Well, you’re stuck with daddy so I’m gonna count to twenty and if you’re not hiding, the tickle monster’s gonna get you!” Jungkook set his daughter down with intentions of distracting her (and himself) from your unexpected flight and she immediately began running away, loud giggles bursting through her cheery lips.
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“Are you sure it wasn’t a homie kiss?” You looked at Jin from your side of the coach with a glare so ferocious it might have very well killed the man. “I hope you don’t kiss your homies with tongue, Jin.” Despite your venomous tone, Jin appeared unfazed, smirking at your comment and hollering as loudly as one could in an apartment complex with neighbours who sent noise complaints about heavy breathers. “Damn! I can’t believe your first real boyfriend is a dilf.” You furrowed your eyebrows at his comment. “What do you mean ‘first real boyfriend’, what about Jimin?” “Lasted 2 weeks and you barely even kissed so it doesn’t count.” “Mark? We dated for 2 months!” “You barely even talked to each other and he was seeing another girl, so it doesn’t count.” Ouch. But okay. “What about Zen?” “The kid you told me you ‘married’ in elementary? Really?” You were out of options and Jin was right, Jungkook would be the first man you actually had genuine intentions of staying with for longer than a few months and that horrified you because if you were being honest, you knew that firsts were always destined for failure.
“I’m doomed.” You said the words with a heavy weight, as if you were speaking your damnation into existence. Jin flicked your forehead harshly, no mercy for the poor skin. “Ouch. Screw you, first you give me an existential crisis and then a bruise?” He was about to flick your forehead again but you were quick to defend. Before a petty flicking battle could ensue, Jin spoke again. “You’re such a baby, you won’t get a bruise. And you are not doomed, this is going to work out just fine, I can feel it in my left kneecap.” Jin often said weird things and you had gotten quite used to his absurd comments. Taking his claim at face value, you replied with a sincere concern, “the same one you dislocated last Summer? I’m definitely doomed.”
And you were indeed doomed but not in the way you had initially assumed you would be. It had been well over a month since your spontaneous movie date at Jungkook’s house and yet you still felt like his dirty little secret. He asked to be his girlfriend a little after your first date and he still hadn’t mentioned you to any of his friends nor did he let you meet them, even Namjoon had to find out about his best friend’s relationship from Jin. And his daughter? Jungkook wouldn’t even hold your hand when she was within a 100 foot radius and you while you tried to be understanding, anyone would have felt horrible in your position. You felt like you were unworthy, as if you didn’t fit Jungkook’s pre-conceptualised image of a perfect family. As if he didn’t see a future with you.
He treated you as if you were something he was ashamed of and with your complicated past, the insecurities that had begun to erode away persevered, becoming stronger than ever. But you couldn’t bring yourself to talk him about them; you were afraid you’d push too hard, be too dramatic and end up hurting him in the process. Jungkook was kind and extremely empathetic but that didn’t stop the haunting thoughts of your self-worth or the prying eyes of unknown on-lookers (who knew well enough that he was way out of your league) from making you feel like he wouldn’t understand.
Every second you spent with him felt beatific, blissful, because he made you feel like the most important person in the world, right up until you weren’t anymore and he’d push you away you like you were nothing more than his daughter's babysitter, or on good days, a friend. It was frustrating because he was so insanely addicting, more than any narcotic and yet you couldn’t have him when you wanted to. He made you happy and yet in moments when you were upset, you couldn’t reach out to him, at least not with the expectation of a timely response. Your dates with him (which were few and far between) felt like they were on a constant timer. Eventually, whether it was Kyomi or his job, something impenetrable intruded your only alone time together.
And while these feelings continued to slowly fester inside of you, rearing their ugly heads as they occasionally made you unconsciously bitter, they reached an all time high when you were watching Kyomi at your apartment one eventful Friday night. Jungkook was having a party the weekend before his semi-finals on Wednesday, a party he didn’t invite you to. But you didn’t take it to heart, or at least you thought you didn’t.
It was almost 1 am when Jungkook returned and Kyomi was fast asleep in your room. Sleep didn’t come to you as effortlessly as you wanted it to, not when your mind was hyper-fixated on the party Jungkook was at. He told you earlier this day that he didn’t want to throw another party but it was a tradition for the contenders and breaking that tradition would be ‘sacrilegious’. You didn’t feel like interfering with a realm you were very unfamiliar with and so you took Kyomi with open arms. But his discontentment with the nature of the party didn’t change the fact that no one knew you existed and there were going to be girls much prettier than you who would probably be interested in your objectively handsome boyfriend. No one ever told you that a major con of dating a a man that sexy would be the constant feeling of insecurity.
It was selfish and something you needed to work on alone so you never thought to bring it up to Jungkook; your jealousy was something you would have to learn to handle. But before you could imagine yet another scenario that would crush your weak, feeble heart, keys rattled at your door. You knew it was most likely Jungkook since Jin had assured you he was probably going to spend the night at his boyfriend’s. You gave Jungkook your spare key so he wouldn’t accidentally wake Kyomi up with the knocking, or you on the off chance that you actually got a semblance of sleep.
“Oh, you’re awake?” Jungkook looked tired, and it was evident in the ways his eyes were drooping. He could have been asleep if he had simply trusted you, a person he had known for almost his entire life, to take care of his daughter for just one night but he couldn’t bring himself to sleep if he wasn’t near Kyomi. You understood because it was reasonable to want to be near your child at all times but that day, those ugly heads were rearing, amplifying your frustration about every little thing that peeved you that night exponentially.
Withholding his trust was another thing you told yourself you’d have to understand but it didn’t make it any easier for your overactive mind to wrap your head around. Why couldn’t he trust you? “Couldn’t sleep.” you said curtly, and Jungkook picked up on your annoyed tone but made no move to address it. That was a problem he could deal with later when his head didn’t weigh 100 pounds. You were on the floor, back against the couch as you messed around with your chess board, playing different openings. Jensen had come over earlier in the day and you played a few games. Believe it or not, you were kind-of friends now.
“I see you’re still into chess.” Jungkook tried to spark conversation and you nodded absentmindedly in response before remembering something that would probably cheer the both of you up. You sat up quickly and turned to him with an excited smile. “I taught Kyomi a bit, she already knows the Sicilian! I’m sure she’ll forget it tomorrow, though.” You joked but Jungkook didn’t laugh; he didn’t even smile. In fact, it seemed as if he was scowling? “You taught my 4-year-old daughter chess?” Jungkook made it sound like it was a crime, as if you had singlehandedly ruined her childhood by teaching her how a few wooden pieces moved across a 8x8 board. “Calm down, It’s no biggie, I started learning when I was 3.” “How did this even happen? She told you she was bored and you thought to bring out the most boring game in existence?” You weren’t sure where his hostility was coming from but you were beginning to grow even more annoyed. A hostility of your own forming.
“It was out already when you dropped her off, without notice by the way, and she was curious. What’s the issue? You may think it’s boring but I like chess a-” “Kyomi isn’t fucking like you!” Jungkook cut you off with a stern yell, not loud enough to cause a scene in your apartment building but loud enough to risk Kyomi waking up. You both hadn’t thought of that in the heat of the moment. All you could think about was how his words cut right through you; a familiar sting you hadn’t felt in six years began to develop in your chest. Before you could even begin to respond, Jungkook kept going and sunk his proverbial dagger deeper into your heart. “And I don’t want her to be.” The room feel silent, no more were the clattering pieces of wood against the chess board or the chime of Jungkook’s chain bracelets as he moved his hands around. You finally realised what a deafening silence felt like because despite the tranquility, your heart had never been so loud in your ears. Drumming like the bass in a loud parade except there was no joy or laughter, just migraines and heartache.
You didn’t even know you were crying until Kyomi had emerged from your room, startled by the noise and your solemn face. “Daddy?” She shuffled closer to her father’s figure and his eyes widened when he realised she was awake, he really hoped she hadn’t heard what he said. “Daddy, why is Y/N sad?” Jungkook knew the answer quite well; because I’m an asshole who says all the wrong things when he doesn’t even mean them, but he bit his tongue as the familiar beginnings of a profusion of guilt began to accumulate in his chest. He thought he was over his issues with the past, evidently not.
“She’s just tired sweetheart, let’s go home, hmm?” Jungkook held his hand out for his daughter to take but she stayed frozen near him. Her large eyes that Jungkook was convinced held the galaxy were fixated on you who had been trying to wipe the perpetual waterfall of tears that wouldn’t stop escaping your bloodshot eyes. Like a splintering water dam, Jungkook’s words had been the final push needed to collapse the walls you spent your entire life building. Essentially, he’d opened the floodgates to your insecurities.
Were you really that horrible to the point where Jungkook couldn’t stomach the idea of his daughter liking the same things as you? How on earth were you supposed to move past this, stay together for as long as your life would allow if he couldn’t even handle the idea of his daughter being anything like you. Children were impressionable.
“Kyomi, we need to go, now.” Kyomi was intuitive enough to know that Jungkook only ever called on her by her real name when he was mad or upset. She knew from his stern tone that she should have listened and in spite of that, she ran over to you and offered a hug. Kyomi was well aware her dad would never hurt her and that assurance was enough to conquer her fears of being berated so that she could blatantly disobey him. The sight threw him for a loop. For four years of his life Jungkook and Kyomi had been loyal to each other, had each others backs whenever times were tough because they were all they had and yet there she was, showing you that same loyalty because you needed it and it was all his fault. He told himself that hiding you from his daughter would stop her from getting attached in a way that meant more to her than just a babysitter. Clearly he was too late.
Jungkook stood there as if he had anchors attaching his feet to your tiled floors. The sight of you holding his daughter in your arms as you choked on your tears brought a different kind of hurt into his life despite the fact that Jungkook was well versed with pain. From the punches he received or the degrading looks from the people who were meant to love him unconditionally or even the painful fear of staring a newborn baby alone and afraid; Jungkook knew pain like the back of his hand and yet he’d never felt it quite like this. “Kyomi, we really need to go. Dad’s tired.” You pulled her out of your hold and ushered her to her father, assuring the worried girl that you were fine, only emotional because you watched a sad movie. She believed you, mostly because she saw the way you balled your eyes out when you, Jungkook and her had watched ‘Hachi’. Kyomi thought you were one of the strongest people she knew and would therefore be okay. So, she left with her father feeling a little less worried than she was before.
Kyomi was wrong. You were definitely not strong and you were far from okay.
The next morning your eyes were swollen and your mouth was dry from the incessant crying that had to have drained you of at least half of your water content. You didn’t sleep, not even for a second and even though the headache pounding against your head was begging for relief you couldn’t bring yourself to eat so you could take any medicine. Jeon Jungkook was a mean man and while you knew that lie was not even remotely true, you repeated it in your head to make yourself feel better. Blaming him meant that you wouldn’t have to think about where you went wrong even though you knew that you should’ve talked to him about how you felt, maybe then you would be in his arms and not your messy, cold bed.
Jungkook had been punching the boxing bag in his home gym since 3am and the sun had fully settled into the room by the time he finally stopped. He hoped the exertion would make the agony in his chest alleviate but it only made things worse. No matter how many punches he threw or how much his legs ached he still thought of you. The image of your beautiful, tear-stricken face and the sounds of your broken sniffles were all he could think about every time he blinked. Jungkook was willing to let his eyes dry out if it would guarantee him peace.
Kyomi slept in that day, tired from her late endeavour where she had to comfort two adults. Despite Jungkook’s assurance, she did not believe he was fine. And he definitely wasn’t, so, when she insisted on sleeping on his bed with him he couldn’t bring himself to disagree. Jungkook realised well into the night that he couldn’t sleep so he spent the time training for what was undoubtedly going to be the second-most important match of his career. The first being the finals that were already set for the following Friday, he felt the weight of the unparalleled pressure that rested on his exhausted shoulders. This was Jungkook’s first national match and if Jungkook he were to win the next two rounds he would be the next national heavyweight champion. He would finally be able to spend every second with the daughter he loved more than anything else in his life.
Jungkook thought about messaging you, it crossed his mind more often than not but he didn't know what to say and spent an abnormal amount of time rewriting the same message over and over. "I miss you, I'm sorry." And despite Kyomi's urge to complain about her boring new babysitters or how much she missed you, she was well aware that her father needed peace so she kept her tiny mouth shut. She was right to do so, with the semi-finals steadily approaching Jungkook needed all the help he could get. Jungkook didn't like the idea of relying on his four-year-old daughter for emotional support so Jungkook pretended he was fine whenever she was around. Every other minute Jungkook coped by doing what he always did in times of doubt; continued training until his lungs gave out.
The day of the semi-finals had you seated at the edge of your bed with your phone tightly clasped in your hands. You waited, anxiously, for Jin's message that Jungkook was okay because even if he hurt you, you couldn't handle the thought of anything happening to him. Your leg vibrated with nervousness but the only vibration you truly paid attention to was your the one from your phone. With every notification that wasn't Jin, you could feel the worry laced with well-intended frustration seep into your bloodstream faster, making it difficult to breathe at a reasonable pace.
It was safe to say that you did not take Jungkook's criticism very well. You spent two days crying whenever you felt the slightest urge to, a day of working through misplaced anger, cursing men, chess, watermelon and everything that reminded you of the brown-eyed brunette which brought you to Wednesday, when all you could feel was the remnants of loss. You missed Kyomi and Jungkook and ironically, distance did make the heart grow fonder.
Philosophy: 1, Y/N: 0.
You were violently ripped out of your trance when your phone had vibrated in your hand's tight grip.
"He won and he's okay. Poor guy couldn't even get a good punch in."
You didn't fight the proud smile on your face or the sigh of relief that escaped from your lips. In the comfort of your room, you were your worst critic and you could argue the unethical-ness of watching people fight for sport any other time but that day you were solely glad that Jungkook was safe. When your phone vibrated a second time within 10 minutes of Jin’s message, you were expecting more updates from your roommate but you were pleasantly (that’s debatable) surprised to see Jungkook's contact light up your phone instead. While you were flattered that he immediately thought of you after winning the biggest match of his career, the message was a bleak "can we talk?" And you couldn’t say you were shocked, Jungkook was never a good texter but you agreed anyway. You knew ‘can we talk’ usually preceded a horrible break-up but it wasn’t like there was much room for the situation to get worse.
The night following Jungkook’s extremely anticipated win, he was wiping his clammy hands on the material of his jeans while waiting for you on his couch. Jungkook thought about what he was going to say over and over, perfecting everything to a tee with a figurative list burned into the side of his brain. He even looked at the small cardboard box of macarons he’d spent hours baking for you earlier that day. He was determined to win you back and if that meant being vulnerable (something he very much hated) then so be it. Jungkook would lay himself bare for your judgement. Before Jungkook could recite his apology one last time, his train of thought had been disrupted the second he heard the doorbell ring. When he opened the door, his eyes landed on your form, depleted and void of any joy, he had to swallow the lump that formed in his throat.
“Hey, come in.” He moved out of the way to make room for you and while you normally jumped into his arms straight away, you stuck to the far end of the hall, as far away from Jungkook as physically possible while you slipped off your shoes. Converse. He was glad to know you weren’t planning on making a quick escape. “Do you- uh, do you want anything to drink?” You shook your head, standing awkwardly in the open area between his kitchen and living room. Jungkook moved first, sitting down and patting the space next to him, gesturing for you to take a seat. He couldn’t say it didn’t hurt when you sat on the single chair to the right of his couch instead.
As Jungkook raked through his brain in hopes of finding the list he had so confidently confided in just a few minutes ago, you decided to speak first. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep my boundaries with your daughter.” Your voice was soft as always but it wavered, unsure, afraid and all he could do was hope that you weren’t afraid of him. “You don’t have to apologise for teaching her a game, Y/N.” Jungkook didn’t mean to come off condescending but he winced at the sentence the second it left his mouth. You looked a little taken aback and Jungkook wanted the ground to simply swallow him whole. God, he was notoriously bad at apologies. “Right…” Following your feeble attempt at filling the silent void was yet another silence that was not only awkward but uncomfortable. You were waiting for an apology, an explanation, an excuse, anything, you weren’t picky. You just wanted your boyfriend back.
“You know, when I first met Kyomi I had no idea she existed until I was in the hospital. Her mother was a one night stand I had at Namjoon’s friends party when I was 19. Isn’t that funny?” Jungkook laughed despondently at the mention of his bleak past. It hurt you to see him so pained so you tried to stop him. "You don't have to do this." "I do." Following his dour statement, you retracted, deciding to listen to what he wanted to tell you. “I didn’t even know she was pregnant but apparently she had some complications during the late stages of her pregnancy and the doctors told her she’d die if she went through with it. She had to deal with that alone, the fear of a situation that dire while I fucked around on Namjoon’s playstation. I was pathetic and she still put me down as her father.” Tears were beginning to well up in Jungkook’s eyes that grew increasingly glassy every time he blinked. You weren’t sure why Jungkook was telling you about Kyomi’s mother when he had been so adamant not to speak about her but you were glad he was opening up to you, even if it clearly hurt him to reopen the wounds of his past that only barely began to heal. “She went through with it anyway and I thought she was an idiot for it. God, she was only 22, who the fuck gives up their life for a baby they haven’t even met at 22?” Jungkook wiped a tear off of his face the second it fell and some of your own were beginning to sting your sensitive eyes which had grown rather sick of crying that week. But you couldn’t help it, not when Jungkook was so visibly upset about something that incredibly difficult, not when all you could think about was how hard it would be to recover.
“I got a call from the hospital a few hours after she was born; they told me I had a daughter over the phone and hung up, just like that. I brought an entire person into this world and found out about it the same way I order pizza. I felt sick and I didn’t know what to do so I ran to Namjoon all the way from my tiny ass apartment and he booked a flight with me, went to Japan with nothing more than a duffle bag he messily packed in the midst of the chaos. He stuck with me through the most difficult time of my life even when all I'd done for him is screw things up.” Jungkook was smiling with pride through the blur of his tears at the mention of the man he admired with every inch of his body. Namjoon truly was a saint and you were completely crying by the time he had confirmed that; trying to stay as quite as possible as Jungkook revealed out the darkest parts of himself to you. You could never tell he’d been through so much, how he kept such an agonising memory hidden from the world was beyond you.
“I didn’t know her well, barely knew her name but she sacrificed herself to bring Kyomi in the world. She trusted me, a stranger who was piss drunk at some college party to take care of the child she laid her life down for. I wanted- no, I want to make her proud. To let her know that what she did was worth it. She saw potential in me when no one else did, she gave me my miracle. Kyomi is the only reason I turned my life around and a lot of people tell me that I saved her, that I was so courageous for taking her into my care and not leaving her to the system, but she saved me. She’s the reason I am where I am today.” He paused for a second, and moved forward, reaching out to take your hand in his and coaxing you to sit next to him. It wasn't leering, you couldn't sense any ill intent if you'd looked for it so you complied, far too sympathetic to keep up your angry facade. When you were seated next to him, knees barely touching, he took both your hands in his, engulfing them to not only convey his emotions but to calm down his shivering hands. He looked at you with those same round Bambi-eyes that you remembered so well, the ones you thought he'd lost.
“Kyomi is exactly like you, Y/N. She’s smart, kind and picks up my slack whenever I screw up. She’s sassy when she wants to be and she always critiques every little thing in movies just like you used to do. I don’t know how, but I projected the parts of you that I loved the most onto her. I was afraid of being a horrible father, of doing what my parents did to me and putting too much pressure on her to succeed. I mistakingly associated you with that lifestyle. But, Y/N,” He moved his hands up to wipe away your tears and you continued to shy away from his haunted gaze, you were never good with eye contact and he knew that more than anyone else. Nonetheless, he held your chin softly and moved your face directly in front of his. “Look at me, baby. Your success had nothing to do with your parents, or mine or anyone else but you. You are not a product of the things I hated about my childhood and it was my mistake for thinking that for even a split second. I love you and I would love for you to stay in my life and Kyomi’s.”
That was the very first time either of you had said that you loved one another and even though you felt it for quite a while, you were always too afraid to speak it into existence. Even in that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop sniffling enough to tell him you loved him and Kyomi with every nanometre of your heart. Jungkook forced your head onto his shoulder, nestling your face into the crook of his neck where your sobs began to settle. Thankfully, Namjoon had volunteered to take Kyomi out for ice cream while he settled the mess he'd made. He wouldn’t know how to explain making you cry again to her. “I love you too and Kyomi, so much.” Jungkook could barely decipher your words which were almost incoherent, muffled by his shoulder and your subsiding tears. “I know and I’m so sorry. I promise I'll do better.” You believed him.
You weren’t sure how long you spent in that position but by the time you pulled away you were sure you looked like a mess. Jungkook’s shirt was damp but his face was dry, you couldn’t say the same about yours with your eyes that had swollen up the slightest bit. You exerted them a lot that week, they definitely deserved a break. “You soaked through my shirt.” “I think that's the least you deserve.” You joked with a smile and he chuckled, glad that the joy he had sucked out of you began to trickle back in again. You yawned and stretched your limbs which had been contorted into a weird position while you were crying your heart out earlier. Suddenly, a deep sense of exhaustion had consumed you and all you could think about was sleep.
You didn’t need to tell Jungkook that you were tired, he saw right through you all the time, which would definitely end up being problematic. “Are you seriously falling asleep on me, Y/N?” You could tell he wasn’t serious, but you definitely were; your eyes were far too tired to stay open. “Just let me sleep here for a bit.” Jungkook laughed at your negotiating but he genuinely couldn’t let you sleep over that night, even though he really wanted you to. “I’m sorry babe, but I have to fly out tomorrow morning for the last match.” You groaned through his explanation while he weaselled his hands around your waist to bring you up right against his chest and out of your sleepy state. You caved, sitting up on your own to put distance between you and looking at him with a worried gaze. “You better be careful, okay? I mean it Jungkook, even if you have to forfeit mid round and look like the biggest pussy in the world, you better do it.” Jungkook would have snickered at your demands if you weren’t completely serious which, you were. “Yes ma’am.” Jungkook playfully saluted in response reminding you of the very day you met Kyomi. He was definitely lying, there was no way he would risk being the laughing stock of the season but he'd say anything to satiate your pleading expression. “Before you go, you should take this.” Jungkook handed you the box of macarons from his coffee table and you took it apprehensively, unsure of what was inside. You didn't want to seem cheap. “What is this?” Jungkook didn’t clear up much after your question, just said “proof that I’m a culinary god” and sent you on your way. Or more accurately, he dropped you off at your home.
That night, when you had returned to your apartment with a heart that was just beginning to heal, the poor muscle had received yet another blow. When you opened the door to enter the place that had been your safe haven for the past four years, Seokjin had been waiting for you in the living room. “Why are you just sitting there in silence, aren’t you bored?” Before you could hurtle another joke at the man, you noticed the papers on your coffee table and your smile fell instantaneously. Jin looked vacant, as if he had no idea how to feel. Read the room, Y/N.
“Jin, what is that?” Your mind tired not to jump straight to the worst case scenario but there wasn’t much else the papers could mean. Still, a part of you hoped he’d jump up and say ‘get punked!’ with the promise of never pulling a horrible prank like that ever again. He didn't, and you knew he never would. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. Your parents they-” He didn’t even need to finish, not that he could bring himself to. You collapsed onto the floor on the other side of the table, hands struggling to grab at the papers as your world had not only caved in on you but flipped in on itself and shaken you mercilessly. The universe had a weird way of working, trading one heartbreak for another. And to top it all off you had to find out about your parents' simultaneous deaths through death certificates mailed with express post.
Whatever deity there was in the heavens that controlled your life must have been playing a sick, sick, game. The worst part of it all (outside of your parents dying, of course) was that you couldn’t even call Jungkook, the man you grew up with, for comfort. Not when his final match was right around the corner and the topic of your family made him retract into his shell like a terrified hermit crab. Jin didn’t know what to say, you were clearly upset but he knew very little about your family, you never really mentioned them outside of what they did for a living. There was more that he needed to tell you but he didn’t know how.
“Also, the letter was sent by uh- by Jeon Jungyun… Y/N, does Jungkook have a brother?”
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Tag list: @ggukkieland @barbikatherine @yzkyzkuniverse @kookxin @namjeonii @euphoriagguks @/anon r :,) @simpforbangtan
1K notes · View notes
v-hope · 8 months ago
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one year to prove you can fend for yourself. one year to keep your parents from making the most important life decision for you. one year to still carry the perfect life for the media whilst carrying a simpler one for yourself...
and way less than one year for you to realise you belong in the latter, with that cynical new roommate of yours.
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pairing: artist!kim taehyung x heiress!reader
genre: fluff, angst, humor, social media au, enemies to lovers, roommates au, arranged marriage au, non-idol au
status: ongoing
schedule: whenever i have time to because uni is taking up most of it lol. i will announce an update is coming beforehand though!
🖋: written part/drabble
a/n: she’s here! i really hope you guys enjoy this au because i already am attached to it lol. and yes, i am A Sucker for artist taehyung, don’t even @ me. introductions coming soon! let me know your thoughts!
if you want to be added to the tag list, please send me an ask.
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🥀 part one — introductions
🥀 part two — designer undies
🥀 part three — ariel
🥀 part four — gold digger
↳ bonus 🖋 — coffee shop
🥀 part five — missed you
🥀 part six — homesick
🥀 part seven — popcorn
↳ bonus 🖋 — puzzle pieces
🥀 part eight — not that bad
🥀 part nine — fix it
🥀 part ten — picasso
🥀 part eleven — ice prince
🥀 part twelve — pretentious
🥀 part thirteen — burgers
🥀 part fourteen — 20/10
🥀 part fifteen — eavesdropping
↳ bonus 🖋 — brat
🥀 part sixteen — thought so
🥀 part seventeen — (no) feelings
🥀 part eighteen — pinky promise
🥀 part nineteen 🖋 — secrets
🥀 part twenty — ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
🥀 part twenty one — tea
🥀 part twenty two — double-booked
🥀 part twenty three — master plan
🥀 part twenty four 🖋 — sweet night
🥀 part twenty five — liar
🥀 part twenty six — worlds collide
🥀 part twenty seven — pizza night
🥀 part twenty eight — pillow
🥀 part twenty nine — dirty work
↳ bonus 🖋 — no fun
🥀 part thirty — apartment hunting
🥀 part thirty one — number three
🥀 part thirty two 🖋 — scenery (m)
↳ bonus — love you the most
🥀 part thirty three — home
🥀 part thirty four — the kim’s
🥀 part thirty five — heartshaped cake
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more bonus parts bc we love those:
🥀 bonus one — q&a
🥀 bonus two 🖋 — sleep in
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2K notes · View notes
rmverse · 7 months ago
Heated || knj
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⇢ pairing: namjoon x reader ⇢ genre: smut this is literally just an excuse for smut with domestic bf!joon ⇢ word count: 6.8k (this was supposed to be pwp i swear) ⇢ warnings: smut, lots n lots of it, fingering, unprotected sex, some degradation (uses of slut and other terms), choking, slapping (just a teeny tiny bit of it), spanking bc ofc, rough rough rough, namjoon fucks u stupid,namjoon is big man ⇢ summary: Namjoon is your own personal living, breathing, walking furnace. a/n: @balenciaguks​ you did this i hate you but i love you and @ironicarmy​ thank you for screaming at me at 6am to finish this i love you
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Warmth. Warmth, heat, or any other definition or description along those lines, you attribute that to Namjoon. He was a warm person, a warm soul, a warm aura. Everything about him screamed warmth. Even his voice, the deep timbre of it, it sounded like a nice hug after a long day, a comforting blanket that covers your body in the coldest of nights.
You don’t know what kind of physical or genetic composition he was blessed with. He was known for it too, amongst his friends and close ones. How can they not with how much he sweats? Every time you would go on a hike with Jungkook or Taehyung, he would start complaining about how he’s only wearing a tank top and shorts and yet he’s already feeling hot. However, even though this trait had its downs during the warmer weathers, it sure had its ups when the temperatures dropped and people froze their butts off.
Your friends would be layered up, layers upon layers of jackets and leggings and scarves and anything else that would shield them from the ruthless cold. Namjoon would leave his house without having to take half his closet with him. You two would be lounging around and you would complain about the heater being turned down, and Namjoon would apologize about it because he was the one responsible for that while you were out that day.
After the two of you got together, you had your opinion on the matter. Sure, during the summer when you felt sticky and gross with sweat and humidity, you would push him away with a whine. You would tease him and tell him that an ice pack would melt within seconds of touching him. He would either push you away with a laugh or coddle you closer and make you sweatier. During the winter, however, was an entirely different story. Oh, this human furnace that is your boyfriend. As a significant other, you took advantage of all the privileges that brought onto you. 
Most important privilege: Warmth.
Warmth, warmth, and more warmth. Whenever and however you needed it. Hands cold? Stick them in his pocket. Nose cold? Hide it in his neck. Feet cold? Just let him sit on them. His butt was exceptionally warm, soft and firm. All the things you loved. Everything cold? Just wrap yourself around Kim Namjoon and you’re set.
You sigh as you enter your apartment, thankful that Namjoon hadn’t turned down the heater today. Your home is warm and cozy, just how you like it. Your hands are still freezing though, your pockets doing nothing to protect them from the iciness of the weather outside as you continuously took them out because, well, you couldn’t really function properly with your hands constantly hidden in your pockets, as tempting as that sounded. The tip of your nose felt like it fall off any second now, but thankfully it was starting to warm up as you shook off your coat and made your way inside.
You make your way to the kitchen for a drink of warm water, filling up a whole cup full before leaning against the counter as you chug it down. Your mind drifts to where your boyfriend is, seeing as the living room lights are turned off. You don’t hear the shower running either. Turning to the sink, you find that the dishes from last night’s later dinner had been cleaned and removed, and you smile to yourself as you think of him coming home earlier than usual and choosing to clean up rather than rest up. Setting off towards the bedroom where he most probably awaits you, you reach for your hair and tug off the hair tie that had begun to pull on your hair too tightly after a long day.
Instead of a warm greeting slipping from your mouth the second you enter the bedroom, you release an annoyed groan.
“Jesus, Namjoon. What are you wearing?”
He’s in bed, sitting up with his back against the headboard. Brown hair messy and looking all sorts of fluffy, he’s got his reading glasses perched on his nose. Book held in hand, he looks as comfortable as ever on his side of the bed. The covers only cover his left leg, but you can clearly see from his right one that he’s wearing shorts. Shorts. And a t-shirt. A god damn short sleeve t-shirt.
“Well, hello baby,” he chuckles at your kind greeting, looking up at you with a smile. You roll your eyes but throw him a smile nonetheless. Even if your boyfriend was crazy, he at least deserves a smile when he first sees you.
“Hi, Joon,” you gently greet him as you make your way to your closet. “Can I please know why you’re dressed like you’re one step away from going to a beach party?” You inquire, ruffling through your clothes for your most comfortable items of clothing.
He laughs loudly, eyes trailing back down to the book in hand, trailing over the words that now don’t seem as tempting now that you’re here. He still tries though. “Today was extra cold outside and I didn’t want you to be upset that I turned the heater down when you came home. So I had to improvise.”
You throw him an incredulous look over your shoulder as you begin to change out of your clothes after picking out something to wear to bed. It seemed that the two of you would be turning in earlier than usual tonight with him looking so relaxed in bed. You don’t mind one bit. So you, as fast as you can, change into some sweats, a t-shirt, a hoodie thrown on top, and add on a pair of fuzzy socks. As fast as you were though, that doesn’t mean that he didn’t sneak a couple of glances at you over the edge of his book. He couldn’t really help it.
The atmosphere in the bedroom is quiet, everyone outside turning in and returning out. Gentle questions are exchanged between the two of you as you shuffle into bed beside him, about your day and what you had for lunch. 
“D’you meet with Yoongi today?” You ask him as you’re finally settled in beside him. Before he gets to answer, you lean over and place a hand on the cheek that’s turned away from you and rotate his head towards you, lips meeting his in a tender exchange for the first time today. It lasts a couple of seconds and he hums happily before you pull away with a loving smile and a pinch to his cheek.
“Yeah,” he answers lazily. Head leaning back against the headboard slightly, he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Didn’t get too much done though. Hoseok couldn’t show up.”
“Again?” Your tone is surprised. You make yourself more comfy, fluffing up your pillows and bringing the covers up to your chin after grabbing the remote from the nightstand. You know that as soon as you’re hiding under the covers, you won’t have the willpower to lean over and get it.
“His boss is being a dick lately after Hoseok handed in his notice,” he huffs and scoots a bit closer to you unconsciously. It felt like you were too far away what with the mountain of pillows and blankets you surrounded yourself with. “One more week and he’s free.”
“Poor Hoseok,” you pout. You turn to the TV as you flip through channels. Obviously, nothing was good. Nothing good played on cable nowadays, everything was repeated. You settle for the worst one you could find because you had a habit of picking the bottom of the barrel movies just to enjoy and revel in the cringey acting and bad transitions. It’s more fun than it sounds.
Silence settles over the two of you for a couple of minutes, but there’s something wrong. You keep shifting, turning over and over and trying to find the most comfortable position. The more you move, the more the blankets get rumpled up and the more your clothes twist and turn with you. It was impossible for you to sit still if anything didn’t feel right.
You reach beneath the covers and slip off your socks first, those had to go. As nice and soft as they felt, they felt better when you were lounging on your sofa, not in bed. Namjoon watches from the corner of his eye as you throw the pair away.
Minutes later and next came your hoodie. You slip it off with a huff. It was big and bulky and even though the interior felt like velvet against your still slightly cold skin, it felt like you were lying on lumps. It had to go. He looks over at you again and smiles, but he continues reading, flipping page after page and repeatedly pushing his glasses up as they slip down.
You whine when you take off your pants. Now you’re cold, but somehow, you’d rather feel comfortable than cold. Did Namjoon lie to you and actually turn the heater down again?
Now only in a loose t-shirt, one of Namjoon’s that you’ve now claimed as your own, you make sure not a patch of your skin is exposed to any air as you roll yourself up into a blanket burrito. It pleases you only for a couple of minutes, trying to focus on the guy who’s delivering the cheesiest pickup line to the lead female character and it somehow works for him, before your attention is once again at how your feet had turned cold once again and that means that you as a whole would be turning cold again in no time.
“I’m cold,” you murmur. It comes out a bit muffled to him because you’ve brought the covers up to your mouth. He looks down at you with raised eyebrows.
“You just took everything off,” he states obviously. Thanks captain obvious.
“I wasn’t comfy,” you whine out. He should know what you mean, he can’t even sleep a single night with a shirt on. It’s quiet again. You’re still staring at him, waiting for him to say it. And he knows it. 
“Come’ere,” he says without turning to look at you. He just wants to finish this chapter, only a couple of pages left, he definitely has the self-control to do that at least. So he lifts his arm up for you to invite you closer, but you don’t budge.
“No, I can’t move.”
Eyes locked on you now, he raises a brow.
“Too cold. Can’t move. You come here,” you flutter your lashes up at him and smile even though your mouth is hidden behind the comforter. 
He lifts the book and waves it around a couple of times. “One chapter left, baby. I can’t read if I’m under there with you.”
You huff, albeit childishly, and look at the TV once again. The two are on a date now, and you can see how bad their acting is just from the way they’re looking at each other. God, you hated cable. “Fine, just leave me to freeze to death then.”
It doesn’t take a genius to predict how the coming few seconds go. It only takes him that long to break before he’s sighing and putting his book away because even he’s admitted to himself that he’s been reading the same page ever since you’d stepped foot inside the bedroom. Book now on the nightstand, he’s scooting closer and lifting the covers up after putting his glasses away.
Your grin is too big for him to miss but he only shakes his head and attempts to conceal his smile from you by placing a large palm against your face jokingly. You respond the only way you can since your hands are stuck between your thighs in an attempt to keep warm, and lick his palm swiftly. Surprised laughter leaves his lips but he doesn’t even argue as he cocoons the pair of your in blankets.
Strong arms slip around your waist to pull you to the center of the bed, meeting your body halfway and situating the two of you properly. You wait for him to get comfortable, watching his cute concentrated face as he shifts around and brings the pillow to rest beneath his head. A giggle slips through your lips when his arms tighten around, feeling the warmth begin to settle in with his body heat now trapped with yours beneath the sheets. You’re melting when his leg slips between the pair of yours, and you’re so glad you’d slipped off your pants mere minutes before so that you can feel his skin against yours, the hairs on his legs brushing your skin lightly.
His broad shoulders bring the blanket up too high and expose your own slightly to the air in the room, and for that you make up by delving your face into the crook of his neck. His body molds into yours and gives you the space you need, lifting his chin up to allow you to nuzzle there, massive palms pressing to your back and rubbing up and down soothingly. Tingles run down your spine at the pressure. Your back arches and you press yourself further against him.
For a few seconds, you lie still. The shitty movie still plays in the background but all that can be heard is your gentle breathing and the occasional relieved and comforted sigh that slips through your mouth at the feeling of your body temperature slowly but surely rising due to Namjoon completely enveloping you. He’s large and his being there, with long arms and muscly thighs and broad shoulders dwarfing you, it feels suffocating in the best way possible. His breath is hitting your face and it brings you little butterflies in your tummy because of how close you two are stuck together. 
Your feet, which usually take the longest to warm up, are being tickled and nudged by Namjoon’s, whose feet have never suffered from the cold. He never wears socks around the house, and you always nag at him to wear something for once in his life as you nudge his thigh with your sock-clad feet. But now, you’re glad he isn’t wearing any because his toes tickle you and you giggle in delight. You’re glad he’s wearing shorts because you can feel how firm his thighs are against yours, one of them trapped between yours so that your bodies interlock perfectly. You’re so glad he’s wearing a loose, short-sleeved t-shirt because you can run your hands freely up and down his thick arms and feel out his skin beneath your fingertips.
“Better now?”
His voice is so deep. It always gets like this when you’re in bed together, cuddling or doing other things. Deeper than it is when he’s talking to anyone else because he’s not making any effort to mask it, and it sounds nice. It makes your body flush, and that’s exactly what you need right now.
“Much,” you sigh.
You place a kiss to the base of his neck first, gently and tenderly. He squeezes your arm back as he rubs them up and down. You kiss again, and again, and again. You pick different spots every time, sometimes tilting your head up, others drifting down. He’s the one who sighs this time, and the second you hear him, your hands move down his arm and to the bottom of his shirt.
“Can I?” You ask quietly, and he hums back in agreement, aware of what you’re asking. He hisses a tiny bit because somehow, your hands are still a bit colder than the rest of your body, but he’s quick to get used to it as you make it a point to map out the large expanse of his back with your palms. God, even touching him is an experience of its own. So smooth, soft, firm, hard, all wrapped up in one. You press your palms against his skin, absorbing all the heat there and humming happily.
“You’re so hot,” you half giggle, half groan. You get back to placing kisses to his neck once again and he chuckles, a little breathlessly now because the sensation of your hands paired with your mouth on his neck is beginning to take its toll on him.
“Not as hot as you,” he teases and slips a hand down to your behind, only clad in a pair of cotton panties. The cute ones with kitties on them. He delivers a squeeze to the plump skin and you giggle again.
“Hmm,” you hum against his skin, kisses turning more sensual by the second. Your hand slips from his back, brushing over his side on its way to his front where you make little space to brush up his chest. “Still not as hot as I’d like to be, Joonie. Care to help me with that?”
Your suggestive words kick him in to overdrive and his hand is shameless now, groping your behind possessively as yours runs up and across his little tummy, all the way to his firm pecs. He was built with both muscle and pudge, the perfect combination. You adored every single part of him.
“Always, baby.”
Jesus, his voice just keeps getting deeper and sexier. You’re practically purring against him before he shifts back slightly to get you to pull away from his neck. Grinning at him, your eyes are playful and seductive and he only chuckles before covering your lips with his.
His kisses are so deep, so hungry, as if you two weren’t just giggling at each other. Your breath is already getting heavier with how he runs his hands up and down your body, your shirt shifting up your back with his movements but you don’t care. You have him to give you all the warmth you needed. His hands leave no skin untouched, over your back, your sides, your thighs, your ass. He groans.
Your hair is in his firm grasp as he pushes his tongue into your mouth, licking into your own with hunger and fervor as your hand pushes his shirt up more and more to feel more of his burning skin against yours. Hips bucking slightly in an attempt to get closer, your panties are brushing against his thighs and you can’t help but whimper.
“Joon,” you whimper his name out this time when he breaks away from your mouth only for a couple of seconds to push you onto your back before shuffling on top of you. And as if you weren’t already feeling how he was completely wrapping you up and closing in on you, the sight of him lying on top of you right now was enough to have you melting into the bed with the way he caged you between his arms as he leaned in to hungrily kiss you once again.
You’re far from warm now. No, you’re full on burning now. His kisses are searing. They make you feel lightheaded and dizzy every time his tongue brushes against yours. He nudges your knees apart and you willingly spread your legs and pull him closer with greedy hands, being able to touch him better in this position. Your feet run down the backs of his legs, your hands travel along his back and slip down to squeeze his ass every once in a while, and your front is pressed flush against his as he allows you to feel his comforting weight on top of you.
“Namjoon,” you gasp as he pulls away. He doesn’t immediately reply and messily kisses down your cheek and chin, to your neck where he buries his head there and sucks marks into the skin. Eyes fluttering shut, you gasp as his teeth bite and nip at you, followed by a roll of his tongue against the freshly bitten skin. Both of you are breathing heavily now, hands moving hurriedly and in a frenzy, and unlike when you first stepped foot inside your apartment, you feel hot and heated and you want every single piece of clothing off immediately.
Your wishes come true because in a matter of seconds, all thanks to your boyfriend’s doing, he’s throwing the last piece of clothing away somewhere which happens to be his boxers. He’s fully hard and you watch unabashedly as he grips his cock in his hand and runs his fingers up and down the smooth skin, your legs unconsciously spreading further. He takes notice of the action with a chuckle, his other hand drifting up your body and landing on your now exposed breasts.
“You’re so hot,” he groans. His eyes travel up and down your body, enjoying the way you’re flushing beneath him, so pliable to his every touch. You whimper at his words and he presses down, down your stomach, down your abdomen and reaches for your sex, long and thick fingers rubbing your wetness with a satisfied groan. “So wet already, baby.”
“Yeah,” you whimper, hips moving along with his hand’s movement. Your hands reach for his chest, feeling at the muscles, up to his shoulders and all over his arms. He’s been going to the gym a lot lately and you’d be the biggest liar in the world to say that you didn’t appreciate the new look. It suited him well. He was as big as ever.
“How do you want it?” He rasps. Leaning down, he kisses you once again and it’s rough, tongue messily licking against your lips and teeth nibbling on your swollen lips. He thrusts a finger in and it slips in so easily because you’re always so ready for him, any part of him.
“Fuck. Hard, Joonie. Fuck me hard,” you practically beg against his lips and he groans, eyes squeezing shit and pressing his forehead against yours for a second before he pulls away. He leans back, releasing his finger from your wetness and bringing it up to your mouth to which you willingly part your lips and wrap them around it.
“Yeah? Want it hard?” He asks, and even though it’s rhetoric, you nod with his finger still in your mouth, tongue swirling deliciously against his knuckle. He watches, entranced with the way your lips look so plump and pretty, your eyes blinking up at him so hungrily. He presses the pad of his fingers against your tongue and pushes it in further. “You sure you can take it?”
You nod as eagerly as you could. He chuckles, his other hand reaching for the sheets and pulling them up to cover your bodies, trapping the heat beneath them and somehow making you feel even more overwhelmed. Finger retreating from your mouth, he once again slips his wet finger inside your pussy, this time immediately followed by another finger. You gasp, head falling back against the pillow as pleasure begins to gather at your core.
“Yes, I can take it,” you gasp out and grip his arm. He looks down, watching the way his fingers fuck into you, the sight of your body so deliciously splayed out for him to play with making his cock ache. “I’ll take it so well.”
He groans at that. He knows you can. He loves how you so willingly submit yourself to him every time, so willing to please and be pleased because you know he knows your body so well at this point, always bringing you to the highest of peaks that would have you shaking and crying in his arms. “I know you will. You always do.”
“Yeah,” you whimper. He fucks his fingers into you, stretching you out nice and well for him. Nails digging into his arms, you look up at him pleadingly. “Please.”
“Getting you ready for my cock,” he practically coos but he’s smirking. You don’t see it, too focused looking down at his hand between your thighs, fingers moving so good inside of you. “Don’t want you to hurt yourself, baby.”
“Fuck, I don’t care,” you whine out, mouth dropping open when he curls his fingers up. You’re already building up a sweat.
“You don’t? You like it when it hurts?” He taunts with a fake tone of surprise. You moan breathily at his words because you do. You really, really do. Especially when it comes from him.
You grasp at his arms, grapple at any part of him to bring him closer and he complies, returning your desperate kisses with groans and moans into your mouth, hand reaching down to stroke his cock. He’s so fucking hard and he’s more than ready to fuck you into next week.
“Fuck me. Fuck me, please,” you sound desperate but you don’t care because it works and he’s retrieving his fingers and spreading your wetness all over his cock. rubbing his swollen head against your wetness to gather as much lubrication as possible. Breathing labored, it can be heard clearly within the moments of silence in the bedroom, only disturbed by the low volume of some commercial playing on the TV behind you.
“You’re so fucking pretty,” he groans, looking down at the way your pussy looks so ready to be fucked, his cock so big and hard it almost seems impossible for him to fit inside you. Your thighs clench at the thought. “Wanna fuck you so hard.”
Your breath catches in your throat when he slips just the head in before slipping back out. Huffing out a shaky breath, your head rests against the sheets as you wait for him to take mercy on you. Fingers twisting into the sheets, you look up at the furrow between his brows, getting deeper and more prominent when you sense him pushing against you once again. Lips parting into a small ‘o’, you gasp when he pushes in, going in deeper now, deeper and deeper.
“Jesus, you’re so fucking big–” the last word slips out in what sounds resembles a squeak but you can’t help it because he’s in so deep, bottoming out inside of you and filling you so well. The stretch brings you a burn that you love. You look up at him but he’s watching his cock disappear inside your cunt, watching your pretty lips hug him so well and coating him in your warmth and wetness.
“You’re taking it so good,” he groans, eyes flickering up to your as he nudges that last inch of him inside you and knocking your breath right out of you. You moan out, long and intense. “Fuck.”
He leans down and positions himself on his elbows either side of your head. With a gentle nudge of his nose against yours, followed by a cute peck to the tip of your nose, you’re about to giggle at the pure act before he draws his hips back and drives back inside you, hips connecting with yours with a resounding ‘slap’.
You don’t even get a second to recollect and breathe before he’s setting a ruthless pace that fucks the breath out of you. He didn’t waste any time building the pace up and opted to fuck into you with newfound vigor and desperation, groaning loudly. “Oh god!”
His hips are relentless, cock lodging into you harshly and creating a sinful pleasureful friction. Hands blindly reaching for his back, you grab on tightly. You look up. Jesus, he looks so fucking good. The sheets are slipping down a bit but you can see his shoulders better now and you lean up to mouth at his muscles before a strong push of his hips brings you tumbling back against the pillow. He’s built up a sweat and his face is shiny, droplets beginning to gather at his forehead and temple.
“Fucking love your pussy,” he grunts. Eyes rolling back at his words, your back arches as you fight to press yourself up against him further, wanting to feel him closer and he’s quick to oblige. Chest pressing against your nipples, it brings a heavenly feeling to feel the firmness of his chest, so strong and hard, moving against your sweaty front. “So tight and warm.”
“H-harder–fuck harder, Joonie!”
He fucks harder. He leans up and despite craving the contact and the press of his body into yours, you can’t complain when you get to see him more clearly. And you definitely can’t complain when he gets more comfortable and has more leverage to push deeper into you and slam his cock into you with more power.
Droplets of sweat begin making their way down the sides of his face, one reaching his chin and dropping down to continue its journey down his chest and your mouth feels parched with how much you want to lean up and lick it all up. But you can’t for the life of you do anything but press your head back into the mattress and cry out his name as he begins to fuck you stupid. “N–Namjoon! Oh fffuck–”
He looks so gorgeous, muscles straining and moving so erratically. He’s dripping in sweat, the heat from his movements and from keeping the blanket tucked around the both of you causing his sweat to build up even more than usual and its causing his grip on your hips to get a bit slippery. 
“Fuck yeah! Oh, there, right there–” you squeak out. Your head thrashes against the pillow, clammy palm reaching for the sheets while the other reaching for him, gripping onto the bulging muscle of his bicep for dear life. It feels so good, so good. Every move brings buzzing pleasure all throughout your body and has your body twisting as you attempt to take it.
“Oh god. Ohgod– it’s so good. It’s so fucking good,” you squeak. You attempt to keep your eyes open because looking at him is too enjoyable with how he’s sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, absolutely drenched in perspiration as he fucks you like his life depended on it. “Joonie.” His name comes out in a whine as you clench around his cock, feeling the pleasure building up uncontrollably.
“Fuck,” he grunts out. He reaches for your breasts, his other hand gripping your hip and keeping you anchored to the onslaught of thrusts. “So fucking tight. So pretty. You like that, baby? You gonna cum for me?”
“Yes! Fuck yes–”
He goes faster, hand traveling up from your breasts and to your collarbone. You’re too far gone that you almost don’t sense it but the familiar pressure of his hand reaching for your neck immediately has you body buzzing with more pleasure. Cunt squeezing his cock tighter than ever, he almost doubles over from the feeling but opts to apply slight pressure to your throat instead.
Eyes rolling back, you release your loudest moan thus far. Jesus fuck, this man would be the death of you.
“God, you’re such a slut for me,” he groans. Squeezing harder, he feels your pussy gripping him tighter and he releases a noise that sounds almost too harsh to be human. You’re dripping wet by now and you feel like you’re on fire, lungs burning, body overheated, slipper and wet and damp on the sheets but it feels like absolute heaven. “You fucking love this cock, huh?”
Your moan is choked and for good reason but he doesn’t stop because your pussy’s gripping him like a vice. Only pushes harder, deeper, faster, reveling in your desperate little cries and the lewd squelch that his cock pulls out of your pussy. It almost has him seeing red.
“I love it,” you gasp out. The words come out all chopped up and broken but he hears them loud and clear. He delivers one more squeeze for good measure and you feel like you’re on cloud nine, almost grinning in delight at how good he handles you and your body. “I fucking love it.”
“I know you do,” he grunts. He slows down, hips slowing to a grind, and you almost whine before you feel his firm fingers grip your chin, anchoring your face to lock his eyes with yours. “You love everything I do to you, don’t you?”
You whimper out a meek ‘yes’, a plea sitting on the tip of your tongue, but you’re cut off when he releases your chin and, cautiously, nudges your check with his fingers. It’s not a smack by any means, but you understand the implication by the way his eyes are boring into yours and you nearly fucking lose it right there.
“Yes,” you gasp out. “Yes. Yes. I love it. I love it all. I fucking love it, Namjoon,” you blurt out so many words of confirmation, urged on by the slow and torturous movements his cock is still making inside of you, and he only hesitates for a second before landing a harsher slap to your cheek. Not too harsh, but it’s definitely there.
“Fuck,” he gasps. “You’re fucking perfect.” He does it again, more force. Your eyes roll back at that one because it’s paired with him picking up the pace once again. “You’re so fucking hot.” Another slap, and this one is loud and the sound resonates, it even stings a little. “Jesus, I wanna fuck you so hard.”
“Ah! Ah–” your cries are weak and brittle, botched up once again as he goes back to battering your pussy with brutal pushes that jostle your body up the bed but he brings you bag down every time. He gives you another slap and your cheek burns but it feels so good. You look so fucking good too, skin looking so good to be marked up and littered with all his love and marks. You’re his.
“You’re mine,” he growls out his thoughts. “This pussy’s mine.”
“Yeah, fuck yeah! Yours Joonie, only yours,” you hiccup. You’re close. So close and he knows it, can feel you growing tighter, wetter. Can see the dazed look in your eyes and the furrow in your brows deepening.
“Cum on my cock,” he orders. You didn’t think it was possible but he goes faster, the sounds of your bodies meeting sounds so filthy but it somehow gets you off even faster and your orgasm is right there. He leans forward and fucks with purpose, and the slight change in angle brings you to stars, back arching up so high he can’t help but lean forward and take one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking lewdly on the hardened nub as he groans into your sweaty, salty skin.
“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck Joonie! Joon! Ohgod fuck I’m–”
Your words aren’t coherent, only jumbled messes and curses and his name and your body’s writhing uncontrollably beneath his weight. Your legs kick out against the damp sheets and your cries are broken, mixing with his own grunts and groans as you make a mess on his cock and release everything. Weak and trembling hands scramble to grab onto his sweaty shoulders, slipping down along the smooth skin.
You feel so weak and burnt out. But it’s not over yet.
Your mind is a bit hazy but Namjoon pulls out of you and you register him manhandling your body onto your front before he slips inside you once again with a loud grunt.
“You’re so fucking wet, fuck!” He’s watching the way you cream his cock so well, coating him with so much wetness and sucking his cock in so well. He’s in a trance. You’re busy trying to keep yourself up, eyes droopy and pussy throbbing.
“Joonie,” you whine out, pushing back against him. You want him to cum. You need it.
“God, I love you so fucking much,” he grunts. Picking up the pace once again, the mattress squeaks beneath his harsh movements and you grab onto the pillows, mouth dropping open at the sudden onslaught after your powerful orgasm. “You’re taking it so good. Good girl.”
You cry out at the praise, but you should’ve known better. The praise always comes at a cost and it’s not long before his hand comes down harshly against your ass, delivering a sharp smack. You jolt forward but he grips your hips and steadies you.
“Fuck! Fuckkk–” you feel tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. It’s so intense but it feels too good. You want more. “More. Please. More, Joon.”
He smacks you again and your body falls forward, arms losing their strength as you bury your face into the pillow with a wail, screaming into the pillow in pleasure.
“Good fucking girl,” he groans, loving the way your ass bounces against him with every thrust, and the way the skin jiggles so prettily when gives you another swat that pulls more broken moans from your pretty lips.
“Please, Joon. Cum inside me. I want your cum, Joonie,” you beg, only pulling away from the pillow to utter the words before resting your face back down.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet. Dripping on my cock,” he groans. His words are rushed and so are his thrusts. He leans forward and grabs your hair, pulling your head up and away from the pillow and a broken whimper slips out. “Gonna take all my cum, yeah? Take it all?”
“Yeah,” you gasp. “All of it. Give it to me. Please.”
Your words, your voice, the way you squeeze around him so nice and tight, he finally loses it. He loses control and pushes his cock deep inside of you, lodges it so its snug and deep inside your cunt and grinds his hips so hard that you’re both losing your breath. Fingers finally releasing your hair, you drop back down onto the sheets and weakly moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head as soon as you feel spurts of his cum fill your insides, and for a second you think that this is it because you’re both satisfied, but he’s quickly and hastily sticking his hand between your body and the mattress and locates your clit, rubbing harsh and messy circles that bring a squeak right out of you.
“Oh– fuck Namjoon! I–I–jesus fuck!” 
The combination of him filling you up and his sloppy movements, along with your overstimulated body has you spiraling into another orgasm, body twitching beneath him in sensitivity.
“Fuck yeah. That’s it, baby,” he groans, finally stilling against you, fingers halting.
Heavy breathing. That’s all that can be heard for a minute or two, and Namjoon might’ve thought you’d fallen asleep with the way you lie completely still beneath him. Did he just make you pass out?
“I can’t move anymore,” you groan weakly into the pillow. He laughs breathlessly.
He pulls out and maneuvers the two of you so that you’re on your back. Both of you sweaty, fucked out, absolutely ruined and with stupid smiles on your faces.
“Does that mean I’m the one who has to change the sheets this time?” He asks jokingly as he scoots closer and throws one leg over yours. His hand reaches up to push away sweaty strands of hair, and yours lazily moves up to do the same to him. He turns to place a kiss against your palm as soon as your hand makes contact with his face.
“You just fucked my brains out,” you inform with a raise of your eyebrows. “It’s the least you can do.”
He agrees with a chuckle. Large palm stroking your cheek, he looks at the right one, still a bit red and his brows furrow. It doesn’t look so good now that it’s over.
“Don’t,” you warn gently with a reassuring smile and his eyes immediately connect with yours again. “I said yes. I liked it.”
He leans in to kiss the reddened skin nonetheless, so tender it brings a different kind of butterflies to your tummy and you can’t help yourself from clinging onto him and bringing him into a loving kiss that he hums into.
“How ‘bout–” he pauses and pecks your pouted lips once again, nose brushing over yours. “I start us up a bath. You go in and I’ll be right there after I get these changed?” He gestures to the sheets. 
“Sounds perfect,” you hum. You kiss him again just for the sake of it.
“But,” you stop him before he pulls away.
“But what?” He questions.
“What if I get cold again after our bath?” You tease with a giggle and he chuckles right back.
“You’ve got your own personal heater with you right here to keep you warm, baby.”
3K notes · View notes
jungkxook · 8 months ago
—make it right. (m)
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⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader 
⟶ genre: punk!jungkook / band au / exes-to-lovers au / angst / smut
⟶ words: 11,528
⟶ rating: 18+ 
⟶ summary: you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because it’s been almost a year since you broke up with him. worst part of it all is that you know he’s still in love with you too
⟶ warnings: jungkook has a tongue piercing, oral sex because of said tongue piercing (fem!recieving), more tattooed and long haired jungkook to feed my fantasies, angsty pining clingy sex, also just general soft sex, crying sex lol, riding, creampie, slight praise kink themes, unprotected sex
⟶ disclaimer: here’s my one year blog anniversary present inspired by the first ever fic i posted on here! yes this is technically a sequel to melomaniac but not really. sort of like an alternate universe to the alternate universe but you don’t really have to read one or the other to understand the other. so, i hope you enjoy!
⟶ this is part of the melodrama tour series!
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You swear you’re over Jungkook.
In fact, you would even go so far as to say you hate him ━ but you know that’s not true. It’s just that it’s much easier to believe that if you tell yourself you hate him enough times, then maybe you’ll find a way to fix your broken heart, and the pain in his absence won’t hurt so bad. 
As it turns out, it hardly works.
Seven months since he had left you to travel the world with his band, basking in promised eternal glory and fame and money, and yet even miles and oceans away from where you stand, he’s all you can think about. There’s a myriad of reasons as to why trying to forget him was an useless endeavour. The hardships of trying to forget a cherished life-long friendship you had grown accustomed to was one of them, and those lingering happy moments you had shared with him as lovers however fleeting they may be was another. But then there was the ever present fact that Jungkook and his band were so quick to rise to fame, their names far exceeding the seemingly cramped and small city you had both reigned from, and suddenly the boy you had known forever, and everything special that makes him, was now being shared to hundreds of millions of adoring fans.
You were certain it was all Jungkook ever wanted, the added attention and the pretty girls fawning over him, because he had always been a casanova in many ways despite always promising you that you were the only one for him even before you had started dating. You had told him it wouldn’t work ━ I trust you as my best friend, you had said in a moment of despair, grasping at straws. I don’t have to worry about you breaking my heart. But I don’t know if I can trust you as my boyfriend ━ far before he and his band had been signed to their record label and paraded around the world, when they were still practicing in rented storage units and friends’ garages and rundown local studios, playing gigs anywhere and everywhere from dingy bars to college campus parties, supporting him every step of the way if only because he was your best friend, and he had been so persistent that it would work, chasing after you even when you tried to push him away. I would treat you right, he had urged so ardently late one drunken night after stumbling back to his apartment. I already practically worship the ground you walk on.
And how could you ━ who had already been so madly in love with him but scared of him breaking your heart, scared of losing him, scared of this happening ━ ever resist him? He made love seem so easy, and maybe that’s because it was when you were with him. But now, he was no longer yours; now, he was the world’s, and you were nothing but a mere hazy fragmented memory in his mind, long forgotten, watching from the side of the stage much like you always had from the very start of it all.
“Hey, isn’t this that band?” Jihyo’s voice bursts through your wandering trail of thoughts.
It takes you a moment to recollect yourself, finding yourself not in the arms of an ex-lover or stuck in a bygone time of months past, but in the cosy and amiable café nearest your campus and frequented by a plethora of your fellow peers. You’re fortunate to find that your other group mates have also become sidetracked, trailing far from the assignment you were all supposed to be working on. Dahyun is perched beside you, chin nestled in the palm of her hand and elbow propped on the table as she scrolls aimlessly through her phone; Jihyo and Taeyong were sat across from you, gossiping fervently about some mutual friend of theirs. You hadn’t known the pair long enough to know much about them or the tragic affair of whoever Mina is for accepting her cheating boyfriend back for the second time, and, likewise, they seem oblivious to your own self-wallowing once you realize what’s caught Jihyo’s sudden attention.
You hear his voice first.
It’s easy to discern, even after all this time and even amongst the muffled chatter and clanking of porcelain and cutlery of those seated around you. The sweet, velvety lull of Jungkook singing throughout the café from the overhead speakers, pretty upbeat melodies and synths mixed with wistful words making up the song he had written for you before he left, before the fame and fans, as a way of telling you how he truly felt about you. It feels like a dream, and maybe that’s because it is, bringing you instantly to another time, and another world. You still remember him showing you the unfinished song for the very first time, curled up next to him in his living room, listening to him serenade you to sleep, humming in places where he hadn’t formed the words yet, strumming along with his acoustic. It was yours and his until he showed the world almost a year ago on their very first show at the Seoul Olympic Stadium in front of thousands of people, as a final desperate act of proclaiming his love for you after a disastrous attempt at a first date that he had begged from you. Just one, he pleaded. To prove it to you that I can be a good boyfriend. And if things don’t work out, we can pretend it never happened and just go back to being us. That’s a promise.
At the time, you had treasured the song. It was beautiful in every way, his love transcending his words and enveloping your heart in pure warmth.
Now, you hate it.
It’s the third time you’ve heard the song that day. Despite avoiding it as best as you could, it seems to find a way to make itself known in your daily life like the nagging nuisance it is. Because fate seemed to enjoy its sadistic behaviour of having the song be one of the main reasons Jungkook and his band had skyrocketed to fame in such a short span of time and, suddenly, Jungkook disappearing from your life meant little when his voice remained as a constant reminder of what could have been, what couldn’t have been, and what fell apart at the already fragile seams. And what was a proclamation of love to you turned into nothing but a fabled tale of lovers. You wonder if people who hear it ever think about where they’ve gone, or who they’ve turned into, or if their love was made to last. You wonder, above all else, if people ever think about it at all.
“Beyond the Scene, right?” Taeyong asks. He seems just as animated to be discussing the song as Jungkook’s voice fades into Jimin’s.
“God, I love this song. It’s so dreamy,” Jihyo lets out a longing sigh as she slumps against her seat. “Y’know, I’m seeing them this Friday. It’s their first time being back in, like, five months.”
“Dude, I’ve been trying to get tickets to see them for months now!” Taeyong gaps incredulously. “How’d you score them?”
“A friend of a friend knows the guy who plays keys,” Jihyo says. “The cute mysterious one.”
“Yoongi, right?”
As the pair dive into a passionate discussion about the boys and their first full-length album released under their recently-signed-to label from Columbia Records, you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Dahyun almost immediately straightens up, eyes flickering from the pair to you and back again. You’re both fortunate she’s there, having known your past with Jungkook, and despise it a little more, wondering what her pitying gaze must mean.
“Hey, Dahyun. Y/N.” Taeyong’s voice grabs your attention now. “What do you think of these guys? Didn’t some of them used to go to this school?”
“Yeah, I had a few classes with their drummer.” Dahyun waves her hand airly, swiftly brushing over the fact that she did far more than have a “few classes” with any of the boys but was also one of their closest friends. “I think they’re great━” She glances sideways at you one more time. “Hey, maybe we should get back to the assignment now━”
“I had a class with their lead guitarist, Jungkook, last year,” Jihyo continues, her excitement getting the best of her as Dahyun’s voice drowns out in the foreground.
“No way!” This dubious exclamation comes from Taeyong.
“I tried talking to him once but he totally blew me off,” Jihyo says. “Which is fine, because he’s still hot. If I had known he was gonna be a famous rockstar, I’d have tried asking him out a second time━”
Suddenly, you feel sick.
It’s odd to hear two strangers discuss Jungkook’s life while you’re seated across from them, as if you’re nothing more than an outsider to whoever Jungkook has become now. But you can’t stand it anymore. You’re certain you look insane to them when you push your seat back abruptly, the metal legs screeching against the floor as you stand.
“Whoa, what’s wrong━?” Taeyong starts to ask but you’re gone before he can finish the question, murmuring a half-hearted excuse about how you forgot you needed to be somewhere.
You’ve rounded on your heel and have fled from the café before anyone can try to stop you, with nothing but Jungkook’s mellifluous voice fading in the distance as he croons aloud for you in a time long since passed.
You don’t care. Besides, you’re sure Dahyun will cover for you.
The worst part of it all? The dreadful realization that sinks into your mind, and into your heart, beckons the question: who’s to say you aren’t a stranger now to Jungkook’s life altogether?
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“So, what are you trying to say?”
You remember the moment so clearly despite wanting nothing more than to forget it all, and the pain associated with it. Because even from then you knew you would always be in love with Jungkook, but you couldn’t have him. It’s hard to remember whose fault it is this time that caused the sudden fight, though random little arguments had been a frequent occurrence nearing the end of your one year relationship more often than not. You hate blaming it all on him, because you were certain you were at fault too. Maybe a little bit wary at times, a little selfish, wanting him all to yourself. Even though you knew he has an obligation to the world, it still hurt when he started making promises he couldn’t keep, blowing you off for soundchecks, or spontaneous interviews, or record label meetings. More and more you could feel the both of you drifting apart, maybe without even meaning for it to happen.
It was just that Jungkook was destined for a lifetime of greatness, and you were starting to think that meant without you.
You had stopped him late one night after he had stumbled home from his and the band’s nightly studio sessions as they worked through recording their debut album as a signed band. Lately, it seemed as if that was all that Jungkook cared about, and while you knew the band meant the world to him and you would always support him in his endeavour, you couldn’t help but feel lesser in comparison. That, and you hated seeing the boy overwork himself to the point of near exhaustion every night if only because their label was so adamant about having the album finished before the month ended.
“You want to, what? Break up?” Jungkook asked, this time more incredulously and less dumbfounded as he had initially been. He didn’t believe you just yet, but you couldn’t exactly tell what he was thinking anymore at that point.
“I just figured we could use some time apart,” You had suggested awkwardly. “Just a break.”
He had let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. “Y/N, this is insane.”
You flinched. You remember having to look away, refusing to meet his suddenly sorrowful look. “Is it, Jungkook? I mean… Look at us. We’re falling apart. It was bound to happen eventually. We tried to make it work but maybe we’re on different paths now.”
“But I love you,” Jungkook gasped, exasperated. “Where is this coming from?”
“And I don’t want to have to tie you down for the rest of your life,” You continued on stubbornly, “or make you think you owe me your whole life just because you said you fell in love with me when you were thirteen━”
This seemed to catch Jungkook’s attention. He grew rigid in front of you, a look of wary agony contorting his face. “Is that what this is then? You don’t love me anymore?”
You didn’t respond immediately, instead the dread of the night seemed to finally catch up with you and you had grimaced. You had loved him even then, but the thought of voicing it aloud when you were supposed to be breaking up with him didn’t feel right. The tears began to swell in your throat and blur your vision. Jungkook must have noticed, because he always seems to spot the small things about you that even you miss. Almost instantly, the sour look on his face softened and his gaze turned helpless, with those big puppy-dog eyes that you’ve always been too fond of. He closed the distance between you at once, warm hands grabbing at your own.
“You do.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He knew you were still in love with him ━ or maybe he’d just been hopeful. “I know you do. So then why are you breaking up with me?” 
He let go of one of your hands to reach up to your face, calloused fingers gentle and soft against your cheek as they brushed away a rogue tear you hadn’t realized had fallen from your lashes. For a moment, you had let yourself get carried away. You leaned into the comforting heat and touch of his palm as he cradled your face.
“Don’t━” You choked out after a moment of silence, hating when your voice splintered into a sob. “Don’t touch me. Please, Jungkook. You’re only going to make this harder.”
His hands sprang away from your face almost at once, as if he had just been burnt by scalding fire. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull you into his arms but he had refrained the urge somehow, miraculously. So, instead, he grit his teeth and clenched his hands into fists as his arms fell limp at his sides.
“Then don’t do this. Don’t walk away,” Jungkook pleaded desperately. “I don’t understand. If you love me still, why are you making this harder for yourself?”
“Because what if that’s all we have in common anymore?” You asked wretchedly. “We care about each other. We always will. But you’re focused on the band, and this is my last year of school. Maybe we just need time to focus on ourselves.”
Jungkook blinked once. Twice. His stare was suddenly devoid of any emotion as he gawked at you, but you could tell that he was hurting. It was there in the fluttering of nerves in his jaw; there, in the way his lips pulled taut into a thin line; there, in the way even you could see his eyes begin to shimmer with wet tears that he unabashedly displays without trying to wipe away.
“So that’s it?” he asked. “After everything we’ve been through. You’re just gonna end it, like that? Y/N, come on━”
His hands had found purchase on your waist, and you had lingered for a moment too long; then, fumbling, he tried to grab delicately at your face, probing you to look at him. But you couldn’t. The moment you met his wounded gaze, you shook your head furiously. You had slithered out of his grasp, slipping through the seams of his fingers just like that.
“I━” You paused. “This isn’t some spur of the moment decision, Jungkook. How can you not see it? I’ve felt so alone these past few months. It’s like you’re here but not entirely. Your mind is always somewhere else, always thinking about the band and never about us.”
“What am I supposed to do?” he had asked hotly. “The band is my everything.”
“And what am I?” You asked. The question only mildly offended you, a shot right to your heart. Because if the band was his everything, what were you in comparison? “A distraction until you get everything you want? I can’t keep being that.”
“No!” he protested. “You’re not a distraction. You’re━” He stopped himself short, brows furrowing. “You can’t keep pinning this all on me. You just don’t trust me, do you? You never did. Always thinking I’m with some other girl when I’m not with you━”
“That’s not true,” You admonished.
“Isn’t it?” Jungkook retaliated.
“I don’t want to hear it,” You had said at once. Your tone was final, a decisive ending to your argument with him. “My mind’s already been made up, Jungkook. I don’t think we should see each other again until we sort all this out ━ or, until you sort out whatever your priorities are.”
Jungkook’s stare had hardened, a frown deeply etching into his face. He had straightened up then, perplexed and upset with your standoffish demeanour, as if thinking this surely meant nothing to you. But little did he know this would become one of the hardest decisions you would have to make.
“Fine,” he said rigidly. “If that’s how it is, then I’m gone. You’ll never have to see me again.”
You hadn’t known at the time just how terribly you had messed up ━ neither had Jungkook. He had left before you could stop him, or before either of you could change your minds. Because nothing’s worse than a broken heart, blinded by stubborn and defensive rage. Accusatory fingers and blaming him or you wouldn’t heal the wounds that had already formed, and ending things seemed to only make it worse, months of lonely heartache without Jungkook to further prove just that…
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The last time you spoke to Jungkook, you told him you never wanted to see him again ━ or, at least, that seems to be how he interpreted it.
Now, you were standing in the midst of his domain, surrounded by everyone in his public sphere of friends and colleagues and acquaintances, and there was certainly no way of escaping him.
You were starting to think you’re losing mind, because you’d truly have to be insane to have worked up the nerve to agree to go with Dahyun to a party being held celebrating the band’s recent tremendous success and headlining their first world tour. Their manager, Jin, had personally reached out to you and Dahyun, calling you as a means of asking you to attend, though you had given him a timid and dismissive response at first. If it hadn’t been for Dahyun purposely and almost quite literally dragging you out under the premise that “even if you don’t want to see Jungkook, you at least owe it to the boys to go,” you don’t think you’d even be here. But while you didn’t know where you stood with Jungkook anymore, that didn’t mean you weren’t still proud of him or the rest of the boys. It just became harder to bask in their success with them when you had gone from knowing every detail of their lives, of Jungkook’s life, to knowing only what you could hear from gossiping fans around you, or plastered in tabloids, or all over any form of social media.
The party is held at some sort of fancy lavish restaurant, the entire back room rented out by the band’s record label and management, and is filled with dozens of people you don’t know. Fortunately, you and Dahyun aren’t left alone for very long, as an elated Jin and Jimin, the appointed lead singer, bustle their way through the crowd to you almost as soon as you arrive, leaving very little time for you to feel so awkward that you consider running away again. Jimin, in all his spritely and extravagant blue haired disposition, wastes no time in engulfing you both in a comforting hug as if months hadn’t passed since you’ve last seen them.
“Glad you guys could make it!” Jin smiles from over Jimin’s shoulder.
“It’s been forever,” Jimin affirms.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Dahyun says. “I’m surprised you guys didn’t forget about us, considering you’re big rockstars now.”
“Rockstar is a bit of an overstatement.” An effortlessly charming smirk unfurls on Jimin’s face, which seems to immediately dazzle Dahyun. “Besides, we could never forget you. Hey, come with me to find the guys. I think we could all use some time to catch up━”
He places his hand on the small of Dahyun’s back as he guides her away, leaving you with Jin. A moment of silence passes, in which time you can feel the boy’s eyes lingering on you.
“He knows you’re coming tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jin says carefully, treading over his words lightly. It’s too painfully obvious who he’s talking about, though you’re fortunate he doesn’t bother mentioning Jungkook’s name anyway. “There’s no point in hiding. I think you should talk to him.”
“I━” You trail off uselessly, your voice croaking. Fearing an imminent breakdown, you shake your head. Then, holding your chin a little higher, Jin’s startled to hear you pretend as if he hadn’t said anything. “It really is good to see you guys again. If you’ll excuse me, I think I need a drink.”
And you’re gone once more before he can say anything else. On your lonesome, you find refuge at the bar, though you only order water because you’re certain you won’t be able to stomach anything stronger. You don’t know how long you spend there, blankly staring at a spot on the wall as your mind wanders everywhere and yet nowhere at all until━
There it is again. The familiar sound of his voice, only this time it’s much more attainable, closer to your world and not elsewhere so high in the clouds like a hopeful dream. You brace yourself before turning to face him.
This close, Jungkook looks breathtakingly and painfully beautiful.
As always, he’s adorned in all black, the first few buttons of the silky blouse he’s wearing left undone so that it teases the exposed flesh of his collarbones and the rose tattoo that inks his chest, the thorny stems crawling up the side of his neck just below his ear, accompanied by a pair of leather pants. He’s the same as ever. The same imperfect tattoos that decorate his fingers and arms that you’ve always loved, the same ring-clad fingers painted a chipped black, the same hoop accentuating his button nose. His hair is still his natural dark ebony color (something he’s seemed to stick with much more as of late despite dyeing it wild colours throughout his past), only it’s a little longer than you last remembered, and the sides of his head are shaved in the form of an undercut. You’re foolishly surprised to find he still looks the same, but almost a year away from someone can both change nothing and yet everything all at once.
“Jungkook…” You want to say something more, but your words fall short.
It’s hard to tell if he’s angry or upset at seeing you there, but you don’t think he’s either, and you have an inkling of a thought that he purposely sought you out amongst the many faces. Instead, he looks hesitant, apprehensive, as if dreading how you’ll respond to see him. As if you’ll yell at him, push him away. You do neither, fortunately.
Just when the dense silence starts to become almost unbearable, Jungkook clears his throat. “I━ Wow… You look great.”
You blink once, a flustered blush warming your face that you hope he doesn’t notice. “Oh. Thank you. You do, too.”
His eyes flicker over your presence as he nods absentmindedly. Then, he’s offering you a pretty smile, soft and sweet in nature. No malice, or ill-intent. “Um━ How have you been?”
You hate this. You hate the awkward pauses, the prolonged periods of silence. A year ago, even despite knowingly pining for one another, your moments alone with Jungkook were never so terrible. He always found a way to say something cheekily flirtatious even when you were just friends, if only because he knew it would make you blush and giggle because, no matter how many times you would roll your eyes or nudge his sides, he also knew you secretly loved it. All the inside jokes, the milestones shared together, the ardent fleeting touches ━ where did it all go? And while you were both noticeably trying to maintain the peace and pleasantry between one another, it didn’t feel the same. It felt forced, fake. Distracted.
“I’ve been good,” You lie. “How about you? Actually, don’t answer that━” You let out a breathless chuckle. “You’ve clearly been doing amazing. I mean, your album, and your world tour. And tomorrow you’ve got a big day with the hometown show. I heard it sold out in the first ten minutes.”
“Something like that,” Jungkook says modestly. “It’s been kind of crazy. Namjoon says it’s good, but I miss━ I just miss a lot of how it used to be. The slow pace. I dunno. The quick burn up is quick to burn out, right?”
“Maybe,” You admit. “But I think you’ve all got it in you. You’ve worked so hard for this moment. Enjoy it while you’re in it. You deserve it, Jungkook.”
His stare softens as it meets yours. “Thanks.”
Another beat of silence passes. He looks as if he’s warring with himself, as if he’s fighting the urge to say something more, gnawing at his lower lip, brows knitting together.
“Yo, Jeon!” A foreign voice from amongst the crowd beckons aloud abruptly for the boy.
Jungkook glances over his shoulder swiftly in search of the source, then waves his hand as if to motion he’ll be there later. Then, he turns back to you. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. I won’t keep you,” You say. “I know you’re busy.”
“But━” He stops himself, his jaw clamping shut. Changing his mind, he decides to ask hopefully, “Will you be at the show tomorrow?”
“Of course.” The affirmation seems to relieve him, even though it’s a spontaneous decision made by you on the spot. Before this moment, you hadn’t been so sure you could go.
You can’t help but shake your head, a chuckle slipping past your lips at the innocent boyish question he asks. “Yes, Jungkook.”
His smile widens a little more, however sheepish it may be. “Then can you promise me one more thing?”
“What?” You quirk a brow, intrigued to say the least.
“Will you drop by the hotel we’re staying at tomorrow morning, so I can take you out for a coffee? Just to catch up. It’s been a while,” he says timidly. Then, feeling a little stupid for being so bold, scrambles to explain himself. “And no pressure if you don’t want to. I just thought━”
You can’t possibly say no. Not when it comes to Jungkook, all your past struggles seemingly vanishing without a trace. “I’d like that a lot, Jungkook.”
Then he’s positively beaming, his self-indulgent grin making your own heart flutter in your chest. When he leaves your side that night, you find yourself looking forward to the future perhaps a little too optimistically. But how terrible could grabbing coffee with your ex be, if you had survived the first wretched encounter?
So, in the morning when you wake, there’s not a stutter in your step or a wavering flicker of your confidence as you make your way to the Four Seasons hotel Jungkook had told you to from the night before. In fact, a selfish part of you almost thinks that maybe things will start to look up. That maybe you and Jungkook can finally make amends. That maybe you never had a reason to fear Jungkook breaking your heart if he made such an effort to heal it.
The hotel itself is one of the most luxurious ones in Seoul, a considerable contrast from when the boys were slumming it on friends’ couches and in their run-down van touring the country. The room Jungkook tells you to meet him at is one of the hotel’s grand suites, located on the higher levels of the building. But as soon as you reach the landing and have begun making your way towards the designated door, it flings open and a pretty girl comes stumbling out. She’s giggling at something that has just happened inside, her hair a dishevelled mess which she ruffles up in an attempt to fix it. She’s adorned in a pretty little dress, the skirt of which is hiked a little higher up and one strap falling down her shoulder, as she clings her shoes and bag to her chest. She smiles at you on the way past, though she’s too far gone in her own little daze that you wonder if she even notices you at all.
But you certainly notice her, and, all at once, your reverie of him and what could be comes crashing to the ground once more.
Maybe you should have stayed, should have waited for Jungkook to let him explain, but you were too afraid to hear an answer you weren’t looking for. You try desperately not to imagine Jungkook loving someone else. You try not to think about him holding her the same way he held you, his lips finding purchase on some other girl. But by trying to avoid the thought, it beckons the unwarranted memories of how it felt to be loved all over by him once upon a time. You wonder how many girls he’s hooked up with in your time apart, and the overwhelming sense of regret washes over you.
You don’t bother to wait. You know fleeing is the easiest option rather than facing your fear, but you’re far too timid of rejection again. Instead, even before you can approach Jungkook’s hotel room and knock on the door, you turn on your heels and run.
You’re long gone by the time Jungkook comes to the door, prying it open in search of you on a whim. When he doesn’t see you, he glances up and down the hallway but to no avail. Namjoon comes slinking past inside then in his own disoriented haze, having just woken up from moments ago when the girl he had taken back to their room the night before left. Even then, Jungkook had warned the rhythm guitarist against bringing the girl back, pointing out the fact that they had much to do today ahead of their concert. Namjoon had promised it wouldn’t be long, that she would be gone in the morning, and Jungkook was fortunate enough that the suite had two separate bedrooms on the opposite ends of one another so that Jungkook didn’t have to hear whatever it was the pair were doing in the other.
“Did Mina leave?” Namjoon asks through a yawn, digging the heels of his palms into his tired eyes. When Jungkook nods, a sliver of a reminiscent smug grin tugs at Namjoon’s lips. “You missed out, Jungkook.”
The cheeky quip is met with a roll of Jungkook’s eyes. “I’m sure I’ll survive. You know I’m not like that.”
Like that━ As in midnight hook-ups and cheap thrills alike. He tried it once, far ago when you had first broken up with him, on a drunken spur of a moment as a way of healing the anguish in his heart. It hadn’t worked then; he assumed it would never work.
Namjoon seems to understand this immediately. He gives Jungkook a look that the boy doesn’t notice. “Well… is Y/N here yet?”
“No. But I’m sure she’ll be here,” Jungkook grimaces. He hopes. “Something probably came up.”
Namjoon clasps a reassuring hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, humming aloud, “Good luck, dude.”
But you never arrive, even though Jungkook waits for most of the morning, nervous eyes flickering to the door at every commotion outside, running to check only to see room service delivering breakfast or concierge showing guests to their rooms. He has no choice but to give up on the thought of you coming when Jin knocks on their door, prompting the boys to get a start on their day. Interviews and soundcheck await, but how could he possibly go on with his life without knowing what happened to you?
Which is why you stay on his mind for the rest of the day, distracting him in every aspect, mixing up his words when he’s in the midst of his interview, tripping up on stage as the boys set up and begin to rehearse. As the hours wane down to just an hour before the show, the thought of performing in front of thousands of fans starts to make him nervous and he doesn’t know why. He’s done this countless times before, almost nightly during the tour, so what stops him now? Of course he knows the answer, had grown all too accustomed to the feeling the first few months in which the break up had been so recent. It would always be about you.
But just before the show starts, Jungkook is making his way backstage from the greenroom, where the band had been waiting, to the stage. Fiddling with his in-ear piece, he almost doesn’t notice you and Dahyun weaving your way through the roadies and sound tech, being guided by Jin to the pit on the side of the stage where only family and friends are allowed. You don’t see him, and there’s a split moment where he thinks he should just let you go, until he doesn’t.
As he makes his way to you, the tour manager for the band intervenes part way, shouting out to the boy. “Where are you going? We’re on in five, Jungkook!”
“Yeah, I’ll be right back━” He waves the manager off as politely as he can, wasting no time to chase after you. He calls out your name, though it drowns out in the sound of the music being blasted through the speakers of the arena and the screaming fans. “Y/N, wait up!”
He’s relieved when he sees you stop in your tracks, turning to face him as Dahyun and Jin become lost in the chaos of the backstage. He comes to stand just before you, smiling breathlessly at you, unaware of the way your shoulders tense at the sight of him.
“You didn’t show up this morning,” he says as a way of greeting, his voice a curious prob. “What happened?”
You try desperately not to get lost in his big beautiful eyes, laced with such hope. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest, looking away. “Something came up.”
It’s then that Jungkook senses something is wrong. You’re upset with him, though he can’t tell why. Aside from the obvious rift in your relationship that had initially split you two up, you had been so pleasant to see him the night before. But he doesn’t give up just yet. “Well… you’re here now.”
You meet his gaze with your own hardened one. “For the boys.”
A shot right to his heart almost makes Jungkook gasp for air. He flinches, and then his stare softens, and you wish he wouldn’t look at you like that, out of fear that you might just relapse into his arms.
“What’s wrong?” He closes the distance between the two of you. He wants nothing more than to reach out and touch you, but refrains with much difficulty. There’s dozens of things that could be wrong, and he braces himself for your retaliation. “You didn’t want to come, did you?”
When you don’t respond, but also don’t stray from his side, Jungkook hurries to speak again if only to fill the tense silence.
“Look, last night… Maybe it was just me, but last night seemed like things were okay,” he says. “Was I wrong to feel that way?”
“Please, just let me know,” he begs. “Because you’re all I can think about these days, it’s driving me crazy. And I don’t know what’s going on, but the reason I wanted to see you this morning was because I hate how things ended between us, and I wanted to tell you…” He swallows nervously as he trails off uncertainly. “I wanted to tell you that I’m still in love with you. And I can’t get you out of my head. These months away from you made me realize that I━”
Suddenly, you’re shaking your head and he knows you don’t believe him. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets saying it, if only because they seem to enliven you. Now, you push yourself away from the boy. “I’m not doing this right now. You’re not doing this right now.”
As if to further your point, the band’s tour manager can be heard calling out frantically for the boy. “Two minutes, Jungkook!”
But Jungkook is hardly paying attention now, instead solely focused on you. “Please, Y/N━”
“No, you don’t get to say that to me,” You admonish hotly. You can’t bite the words back, no matter how hard you try. “You don’t love me. You think you love me, but you don’t.”
His jaw clenches, and his brows furrow into a frustrated stare. “I do.”
“You don’t.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Stop.” The harsh word makes Jungkook clamp his mouth shut. You shake your head furiously, but you know it’s only to distract yourself so that you don’t let the tears fall. “You’re being selfish, Jungkook. You don’t get to take all of me, love all of me, and leave, only to come back months later and pretend you’re still in love with me. And whatever this━” You gesture vaguely between the two of you, “is, or was, doesn’t exist anymore. We both need to stop pretending otherwise.”
Jungkook winces, eyes tinged with pain. “You don’t mean that.”
You don’t respond. Elsewhere, his tour manager starts to grow impatient, scolding the boy aloud, “Jungkook, we’re gonna be late. Hurry up!”
“Yeah, I’ll be there!” Jungkook calls back, irritated. Maybe he is being selfish. He’s wasting precious time by not leaving, all the hard work that the crew put into tonight’s show, and the fans awaiting his and the band’s arrival. He can still hear the crowd, this time their buzzing voices amalgamating into unanimous chanting muffled by the walls that sounds akin to the band’s name.
“You should go,” You say now. “Don’t wanna disappoint them.”
But he’d throw it all away for you if you told him to. He promised you that even before he had left for tour, before the band had been signed. Had you forgotten? Because he surely hadn’t.
“Good luck out there.”
Then, you’re gone before Jungkook can even make a move to stop you ━ but even if he did, what could he do to make you stay? The feat seemed impossible, and you always seem to find a way to slip from his grasp no matter what he does. Only this time he has no choice but to let you go, out of fear of being berated further by his tour manager or angering the boys so much to the point where he gets kicked out of the band.
He makes it on stage in time, the band filing out to take their places one at a time, deafening screams blowing out their in-ear pieces that stand no chance as each member joins the stage. The lights fizzle out until complete darkness cloaks the venue, but Jungkook still looks for you. He finds you in the pit on the side of the stage, Jin and Dahyun standing beside you, and finds it hard to keep his eyes off of you even though you attempt to pretend as if he’s not even there.
After their first adrenaline-filled opening song of the night, Jimin takes to the microphone to greet the crowd who scream back an indiscernible shout as, elsewhere, you notice Jungkook pry himself away from the microphone stand on his side of the stage to wave the rest of the boys over to Hoseok’s drum kit. They murmur amongst themselves briefly, though they go unnoticed by Jimin or the crowd as the lead singer entertains them.
“Seoul! It’s good to be back. We’ve missed you all so much━”
Jimin’s words get cut short when Jungkook, having just parted ways with the rest of his members for their impromptu meeting, beckons the lead singer over, out of range of the microphone. They seem to discuss something just as shortly as Jungkook had talked with the rest of the boys, in which time Jimin nods understandingly, then steps away from the microphone. Then, Jungkook takes to the microphone, the rings on his fingers glistening under the spotlight as he grips the stand.
“I know the night’s only getting started,” Jungkook’s voice wavers as he speaks, “but we’re gonna slow things down for a moment. We hope you don’t mind.”
Intrigued murmurs echo around the crowd, suddenly buzzing with excitement as they watch Jungkook with eager eyes. A few encouraging bellows has Jungkook smiling smally. Jin, on the other hand, looks perplexed.
“What is he doing?” Jin asks no one in particular, a quizzical look on his face. “This isn’t part of their set.”
“I think a lot of you might know this next song,” Jungkook continues, “but I don’t think I’ve ever expressed how much it means to me. This next one, I wrote for a special someone, and it sort of helped us achieve all of this. So, I think it’s time that person knows how much they mean to me.”
Jungkook glances nervously over at the boys standing behind him, each in their own respective spots. Then, sweeping his gaze across the crowd, he finally finds you already staring up at him. His own eyes soften into a look of longing, however hardened by past tribulations and sorrow it may be. As if he’s determined not to lose you again; determined to make it up to you.
“This next one is for Y/N,” he says timidly. He has to turn away from you in the next second, afraid he might just break down before the fans and the boys and you. “I’m sorry I messed up.”
As the boys take their place, with Jimin taking an acoustic and fading back from the limelight, you wonder why. But then you hear it, the familiar beginning chords making up the song you had so wholeheartedly claimed you hated. Only this time they’re gentler, made up of acoustic strums of a guitar, Hoseok’s drums, and Yoongi’s keys, all amalgamating into a pretty song almost unrecognizable.
Then, Jungkook starts singing, and what was once a wistful dreamy song of prospective lovers suddenly turns into a melancholic requiem for you. Some lyrics are changed, present tense turning to the past, and Jungkook sings his way throughout the entirety of the song in contrast to the one that plays all over the radio featuring the other member’s voices. The fans sing along, their voices melding with Jungkook’s into some sort of celestial mellifluous choir, and you’re left no longer wondering if the fans would ever know the meaning behind the song that Jungkook had brought to life. Because now, it wasn’t just Jungkook singing to you; it was the whole world. And yet, paradoxically at the same time, it felt all that much more intimate. As if it were just you and him once again, seated on the couch in his small apartment, listening to the beginnings of what would be their number one selling song.
Above all else, you realize that you don’t seem to hate the song as much you claimed to.
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That night, you can’t sleep.
You find yourself leaving the venue earlier than everyone else, even when the boys invite you and Dahyun to join them for celebratory drinks, returning to your home in the hopes of forgetting the night altogether. Instead, you stay up tossing and turning, your mind filled with memories consisting of only Jungkook and his haunting voice singing to you, and for you. But at some point during the night nearing one or two in the morning, just when you give up on the idea of sleep, the sound of incessant knocking at your front door rouses you from your trance.
When you finally answer the door, you’re more than surprised to see that Jungkook stands on the other side of the threshold as if coming to you from a dream. But then you register the fact that he’s a complete mess. Dark circles line his weary eyes, now smudged with that faint hint of charcoal liner he had worn for the concert, hair so messily mused beyond repair, and you notice quickly that he’s crying, fresh tears glazing over his pupils and streaking down his face. It’s startling to see him in such shambles, a complete contrast to how effortlessly charming and confident he usually portrays himself. But though you’ve seen him cry before on various occasions, now is all the more unsettling.
“I━I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing he says, screwing his eyes shut tightly as he shakes his head. He fumbles over his words, slurring them together in his rush to get them out. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but I needed to see you.”
“Are you drunk?”
“No, no, I swear━” He pries his eyes open to meet your desolate stare, tears unabashedly falling from his lashes. His voice thins with desperation. “You said we need to stop pretending, but I’m not pretending. I never have been. And if you think ━ if you truly believe ━ that there’s nothing here between us anymore… Tell me. Right here, right now. And I’ll leave you alone forever, you’ll never have to see me again. I just━ I’ve missed you every moment and it kills me.”
You’re silent for a long period, pitying gaze sweeping over him, but he doesn’t care if he looks insane. He just needs you to know how he feels.
“Well, how do you think I felt?” You ask the question carefully, but then the memories come flooding back and the semblance of a scowl forms on your face. “You leave and suddenly everywhere I look I see you. Your song is playing everywhere, you and the guys are everywhere, and I’m reminded every day about how we ended. About how you left me.”
Jungkook blinks. He shakes his head stubbornly, the nerves in the corner of his jaw fluttering as he grits his teeth. “You were the one who said we should take a break.”
“A break!” You snap sternly. “Fuck, Jungkook. I didn’t want you out of my life forever. I wanted you to fight for me.”
“No, don’t put this all on me,” Jungkook pleads helplessly. “I have always fought for you. But the minute things got rough, you bailed. You told me you never wanted to see me again. What the hell was I supposed to do?”
“I was scared!” You try to swallow the tears away that start to form as a lump in your throat but to no avail. “I was, and I still am, so fucking scared of losing you. And you━ It felt like you gave me no choice. Like you were over it. I would have wanted to make things work but you left. You just… You left, and suddenly it was like you were never in my life at all. Seven months, and I get no word from you.”
“I fucked up, okay!” He cries out so suddenly, it silences you at once. He bites at his lip, and straightens up half-heartedly, running a hand through his hair. When he meets your stare this time, he’s zealous yet sincere. “I know that I messed up. I know. And it fucking kills me every single day. I don’t know where it went wrong, but it did, and I know it’s all my fault. When you said we should take a break and I agreed, I was only thinking about you. Because I knew I was disappointing you every day, and I was afraid that was all I would ever do, and you don’t deserve that. I thought it would be better this way, if I was just gone from your life for good. But I can’t forget you.”
“How can I trust you?” You ask. When his pained stare gawks at you, you tilt your chin a little higher. “I came by your hotel room yesterday morning, just like you asked, only to see that girl leaving.”
Jungkook’s gawk turns into a dumbfounded expression. He looks weary as he shakes his head, as if struggling to keep up with the way you accuse him now. He tries not to focus on the fact that you actually came to the hotel, then feels inconsolably terrible when he realizes why he never got to see you. “That girl was Namjoon’s fling. We were sharing the suite, and they were in a whole other room. I didn’t even think about her━”
Your stare droops from him, and he knows he’s struggling to keep you on his side.
“Okay, fine. You want trust? I’ll give it to you,” he says. A newfound sense of confidence seems to possess him, though he approaches the topic with extra caution anyway. “After we broke up, I was crushed. I couldn’t move on from you, and the guys thought I should get drunk, find a random girl to bring back to our hotel one night on tour. And I listened, because I wanted to forget you, but it didn’t work. All I could think about was you. Every time she touched me, every time she kissed me, I could only imagine it was you. And when she left that night, I broke down because I felt like such a fucking idiot. I instantly regretted it. Like, even though you and I weren’t together, I still did something to hurt you by sleeping with that girl. And all it did was hurt me too in the process.”
He pushes himself forward, taking a step over the threshold. Even despite him admitting his wrongs to you, you can’t find it in yourself to hate him. Because, at the end of it all, he’s here at your doorstep, pleading for you to forgive him, but he had already won the moment your eyes had landed on him.
“You’re the reason I am who I am today.” His voice is hoarse when he speaks, almost in a whisper. “That I get to do what I love for a living. But all of it means nothing without you. You saw me at my worst, and my best. And you were the best I ever had, and I ruined it, and the worst part of it all is that there’s nothing I can do to make up for it. But I promise I can make it better ━ I can make it right again ━ if you just give me a chance.”
There’s a short pause filled with poignant silence in which Jungkook thinks you’ll push him away or scream at him. He’s fortunate when you do neither; instead, he hears you whisper faintly.
“Kiss me, Jungkook.”
And it’s more than enough for him. His heart thrums in delight as he wastes no time in reaching out for you. His hands are warm as they come to grasp at your face, holding you delicately; then he’s leaning in to you, drawing you closer and closer until his lips are pressed against yours. It’s unadulterated, but not without feverish passion, noses smushing together in both your eager hastiness to close the distance between the two of you. It doesn’t last long either, though that’s partly because Jungkook can taste your tears mingling on your lips, and can feel your faint smile form against his mouth. Kissing him feels both foreign yet familiar at the same time. You know the feel, the taste, and the sense of comfort that comes with it, but months apart from one another has left it feeling different.
Jungkook’s thumb wipes away at the tears on your face. “Why are you crying?”
It’s a useless question, he knows, but he needs something to fill the silence. He’s relieved when he hears you snicker. “Because I miss you, you idiot. And I’m sorry I’ve been acting like such an idiot. I’ve messed everything up.”
His own shoulders quiver with contented mirth. “It’ll be okay.” As he leans in once more for another kiss, you can feel him murmur against your mouth, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
“Then make it right,” You say, “right here and now.”
“I’ll do anything for you,” he promises earnestly.
Jungkook understands the underlying yearning in your voice even without having you explain yourself. He knows, if only because he can feel it too. As his hands fall to your waist, fingers digging into your skin, your own arms wrap around his neck and pull him into your apartment. He has you pressed up against the nearest wall within seconds, kissing at your throat, then up to your jawline.
“It’s been so long,” he sighs.
You hum in agreement, though your mind is already spinning, and all you can muster is a weak yet urgent croak of his name. “Jungkook.”
Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging at the roots and he croons with delight. His lips finally meet yours again, only this time he lets his tongue lav at your lower lip. Almost as soon as he does so, you notice something strange. It takes a moment for you to register the small metallic object that grazes your lower lip but when you do, you pull away from the boy.
“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks in a confused dazed.
“Is that…” You rasp. “Did you get your tongue pierced?”
Suddenly, Jungkook is smirking, one brow shooting up to his hairline in a smug demeanour. He sticks out his tongue for you to see the silver ball poking through and you almost moan at the sight of it as the thought entices you.
“Oh.” Your face warms with a flustered blush. “That’s new.”
“Yeah,” he says. “Always wanted to get it done. Guess I was saving it for the right moment.”
“Right moment, huh?” You scoff as if the implications don’t already have your thighs rubbing together. “Care to explain?”
“I think you’ll find out soon enough.”
You dissolve into a fit of giggles, marvelling at the way Jungkook’s familiar flirtatious bantering can soothe your troubled heart at once. It’s almost as if time hasn’t lapsed between the two of you.
“I’ve missed this,” You sigh. “I’ve missed you, Jungkook.”
You spot him smiling before he’s kissing you again, this time his tongue slipping past your parted lips to meet yours midway. The piercing is strange to adjust to, but you get used to it quickly, humming at the feeling of it against the soft flesh of your tongue. It’s easy to get lost in one another’s lips as you pull and tug at Jungkook, guiding him to your bedroom, nearly tripping and stumbling over one another in the process. He knows the path like the back of his hand, the same way he knows every curve and dimple of your body as his greedy hands explore you. He has you sprawled out beneath him on the bed in a matter of seconds, carelessly shedding each other of your clothes until you’re left naked and he’s without a shirt.
As he’s tugging off the hoodie you’re wearing, he realizes two things abruptly. One: you’re not wearing anything beneath it, your bare body dazzling him at once. And, two: a sudden thought jogs his memory that makes him ponder aloud, “Is this my sweater?”
“Yes,” You admit sheepishly.
He smirks. “Was wondering where it went.”
“You forgot to take it back when…” You don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you tug your fingers at the hair at the nape of his neck, as if scared he’ll leave again. He doesn’t. Instead, he nestles his body between your legs, tonguing patterns on your neck. “I wear it sometimes, especially when I’m missing you. I don’t know… It just━ It still smells like you, even after all this time.”
Jungkook’s heart nearly implodes. He wonders briefly if he’d prefer fucking you without or with the hoodie; but then he’s letting himself time to study your naked body and he deduces he needs to gaze at you in your entirety a little longer.
“Keep talking,” he murmurs. He starts kissing down your body now, starting from your throat to your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, then your navel. “Tell me more. How badly did you miss me?”
“So badly,” You whimper. Your legs instinctively part to make way for him as he shifts downward, kissing just above your core. A shudder runs down your spine when he kisses the inside of your thigh. “Sometimes I’d put your sweater on and touch myself to the thought of you.”
He grunts against you, teeth softly biting at your flesh. His tongue pokes against your thigh, the metallic piercing a dully cold sensation as he licks upward to your core. He laps at your folds, as if to taste the glistening cum that starts to form.
Your breath audibly hitches in your throat, hips jutting forward to meet his mouth. “I missed your hands, and the way they made me feel. Missed your mouth between my legs. Missed cumming on your tongue, or your fingers.”
Now, you’re starting to understand what he meant by waiting for the right moment to use the piercing to its fullest potential. As he lifts his head higher to tongue at your clit, the piercing makes your head spin. The contrast between his soft tongue and the harsh metal works wonders against you, rubbing you just the right way that has you a moaning mess beneath him within a matter of seconds.
“Fuck━” You cry out, hands twisting in his hair. “My hands never feel the same. You always made me feel so good, Jungkook.”
He hums something in response, the sound reverberating up your spine. He busies himself by replacing his tongue with his finger, rubbing small, controlled circles against your clit as he lowers his mouth to your folds. He teases the piercing against the sensitive flesh before lapping at your insides, burrowing further into you.
“Ooh, Jungkook━”
The noise that eclipses your throat is a piqued sob of delight. The piercing that scratches against your walls has your insides throbbing, body twisting and turning beneath him. You grab at your breasts, fingers pinching at the perked buds as you imagine Jungkook’s hands in replace of yours.
His mouth wraps just right around you and he sucks hard, earning a beautiful moan from you. It doesn’t take long for you to draw closer to your high, sputtering and whimpering at every action he does. Soon he’s burrowing his face even closer against your core, nose nudging against your clit in a way that makes you writhe and squirm. Before he can get carried away (and he certainly could), Jungkook decides to come to a stop which seems to thoroughly surprise and upset you. When you feel his missing warmth between your legs and the sticky wet mess accentuated further by the cool air that hits you, you pout like a child.
“That’s not fair,” you whine.
“Sorry, baby. Need to feel you.” He pulls away from you and crawls over your body once more. He kisses your lips, sloppy and heated, and lets you taste your own succulence on your tongue. “God, I need to feel you so bad.”
You’re just as much startled as you were seconds ago to hear the slight whine in his voice, a sound hot enough to almost push you over the edge.
“I’ve missed you too, just so you know,” he moans, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers continue to scratch delicately at his scalp and he simpers delightfully against you. He ruts his hips eagerly against yours, the bulge in his pants rough against your core. “So fucking much.”
“How much?” Now it’s your turn to ask, your curiosity getting the best of you once you find your voice.
“Every day,” he sighs as he continues to grind his hips into yours. “Get so hard at the thought of you. Your pretty mouth moaning my name. Your hands in my hair, just like this━” You pull a little tighter at the roots of his locks, and he has to stifle his contented moan. “And your body━ Fuck, your body. You take my dick so well, baby.”
“Jungkook,” You mewl impatiently. “Wanna feel you in me.”
“Fuck, okay. Okay━”
He hastens to rid himself of his pants and you help, arms momentarily tangling with one another in your rush. Then he’s kneeling before you, one hand planted firmly on your hip, rings digging roughly against your skin, as his other hand wraps a fist around his hard length, slowly pumping himself. He guides the tip of his leaking cock to your core and pushes himself forward carefully. He easily slips past your folds, coaxed by your slick walls, that he has to pause to give you both time to adjust to the feeling. It’s just as he remembered, though somehow better, and he isn’t so sure how long he’ll last. You don’t know either, marvelling in the way he stretches you open.
“Oh, shit,” he grunts.
He watches as your jaw drops open in a silent gap, your eyes fixed only on his. You grab at his hips, fingers scratching delicately over the laurel tattoos inked there, prompting him to move. He does so in one languid movement, burying deeper and deeper into you until you feel so full and he feels so warm. He fucks into you a little sluggish at first, taking his time and enjoying the way your clenching walls feel around his throbbing cock. It’s a pace so maddening that it soon has the both of you panting, heavy moans filling the space around you. Your own fingers dig into his shoulders, his back, his hips ━ anything to keep a hold on reality as you slowly lose yourself to the pleasure. He reaches for one of your hands, eager to feel you in more ways than one, and laces his digits with yours, pressing your clasped palms above your head. You squeeze tightly, his name falling from your lips in a cry.
“Doing so good,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. “Feel so nice, baby.”
Jungkook grasps at your hips and flips the two of you over. He lands on his back on the soft mattress and you fumble to not break the pace. Firmly planting your hands on his chest, you grind against him, sweat coating your forehead. He watches you with a dark fascination, brows screwed together and jaw clenched as your own cum starts leaking down his length. Not wanting to waste another moment without being beside you, he sits up and shifts you in his lap. Then he pulls you close to him, chest pulled flush against chest to the point where he can feel the rapid beat of your heart against his. You whimper aloud, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as he guides your hips back and forth on him. There’s little to no space between your gyrating bodies, sweaty skin sticking to one another.
At some point, Jungkook notices you’re crying again, steady tears tangling in your lashes and wetting your face. Despite the way you’re driving him to near euphoria, he brushes your hair out of your face and manages to ask, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I’m sorry━ fuck,” You gasp. He can tell you’re genuinely sympathetic for whatever’s making you cry but it’s hard for you to convey it properly when you’re still so consumed by him. “I’m so sorry━ I’m okay. I just━ You feel so good, Jungkook.”
“It’s okay,” he whispers, rubbing tender circles against your waist that contrasts with the fierce burn between your legs. “You’re okay, baby. Doing so well for me, aren’t you? Cum for me, yeah?”
You won’t tell him why you’re crying ━ not yet, at least. But Jungkook thinks he knows why; he can feel it too. The bitter sense of longing and mingling regret for all the time lost. The overwhelming feeling of love of finally being reunited. You continue to roll your hips against his, and he, breathless, rubs his nose faintly against yours, resting his forehead against yours.
It doesn’t take much longer after that for you to come tumbling to you high. He strokes your hair so lovingly as you ride him recklessly, leisure rolls of your hips driving you to your high. When you cum, the feeling completely washes over you and electricity crackles in your veins, warming your entire body. He holds you close to his chest the entire time as you writhe with pleasure, your walls clenching around his cock.
“Fuck, I’m gonna━” His voice splinters off as you busy yourself by sucking a bruise onto the underside of his jaw.
He reaches his high moments later just as you’re beginning to wince at the feeling of oversensitivity. He grunts and groans, spilling his hot seed into you, and then, with his hips slammed against yours, grinds leisurely to ride out your highs.
Then, the room falls silent.
Neither of you move from your warm embrace, with you still perched on his lap, his cock softening inside you as his cum runs down his length and onto your thighs. Your face is hidden in the crook of his neck, and he waits until you’ve both calmed down from your orgasms. You’re running your fingers through his sweaty hair, but he knows you’re still sad. He kisses you all over in the meantime, a few ticklish kisses that make you smile sleepily and a few loving ones that have your heart swelling. Then, he gingerly shifts your head to look at him.
“Why were you crying?” he asks silently.
It takes you a moment to respond. You cling to him tightly when you do and all he can do is cradle you closer to him. “I don’t want this to be some kind of drunken one night stand thing. Like we both needed one last fuck to get over each other, or something."
“You mean more to me than a one night stand,” Jungkook says and it makes you smile smally, a little timidly. 
“That’s good,” You say, “because I’m not over you or us. I want us to work out. I love you too much to lose you again, and I’m scared this might be the last time I’ll ever see you.”
“I’m not letting that happen,” Jungkook shakes his head furiously. “I’d be an absolute idiot to let that happen. You won’t lose me. I’m not going anywhere this time. You’re my priority, Y/N. You always have been. Not the band and definitely not the record label.”
“I’m sure the boys will love to hear that,” You snort to yourself.
“Yeah, well, I’m sure they’ll understand,” Jungkook grins. But you’re only joking, and you know he sort of is too. That’s not to say the band isn’t still important to him, but you take precedent over it. “Without you, I wouldn’t even have the chance to be where I am now.”
You nuzzle your nose against his own, and he steals one sweet kiss from you. 
“Do you really mean all that?”
“With my whole heart.”
And, when he says it, you know he means it. There’s no reason not to trust him.
You’ll both move eventually from one another’s arms, soft touches from Jungkook peeling you off of him and wrapping you in your covers before falling asleep beside you, and waking up in the morning with you in his arms. But, for now, it’s just you and him, a little broken still yet all the more in love.
While you both know healing a broken heart will take time, you’re both prepared for it because you’re both worth it to one another ━ and that’s all either of you really need in the end to make it right.
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⟶ All rights reserved to © jungkxook. I do not allow reposting, translating, or any sort of modifying and reuploading of my work. 
⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!
5K notes · View notes
agustdakasuga · 8 months ago
Between The Bloodshed (Series Masterlist)
Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff
Pairing: OT7 x Reader
Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook
Summary: Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of them through recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.
Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion. 
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5 
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Drabble List
2K notes · View notes
minyfic · 11 days ago
sharp cookie - JJK | M
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pairing: ex-boyfriend!jungkook x reader
summary: when your ex-boyfriend, aka new boss, asks for a chance, you struggle to believe him when he says that he has changed his womanizing ways.
based on this request.
genre: angst, fluff, smut
word count: 13.1K
warnings/tags: strong language, CEO!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Y/N is impulsive, explicit smut-unprotected sex, dirty talk, choking, edging, slight overstimulation, fingering, soft to rough sex, multiple positions, creampie, masturbation, oof fucking with a diamond necklace on
a/n: hope you liked this anon!
“Hello, it’s nice to finally meet you Y/N-ssi.”
Bowing, you smile at the tall, bespectacled man, taking his extended hand in yours.
“Just Y/N is fine, you are…?”
“I’m Kim Taehyung, I’m kind of like the art collector here.”
Taking the seat that he points to next to the reception desk, you survey your surroundings, the empty space glowing in the golden hue of the lighting, the smell of fresh paint still lingering in the air. You love the peace and quiet here, a stark contrast to your previous working environment.
You gesture to the walls, a boxy grin splitting his face as he walks over to where you’re seated.
“You probably know that we’ve just got done with setting up this place. Most of the pieces are on their way here. I have a few in the storage but I need to work through them and get them out here. Have you met Kim Namjoon? The manager? He should’ve been here by now,” he glances at his watch, “we’re still sorting out his office so he’s at the reception desk for now, your office is done. I mean, that is if you get the job. Which I totally think you will! I’ve seen your credentials.”
You chuckle, waving him off, “it seems like I’m the only one here for this post.”
Nodding, he tugs his pants at the knee as he sits down next to you, “others were here yesterday, but our boss can be picky. He came in personally for the interviews, said that marketing is one of the most important aspects when it comes to an art gallery.”
“Yes one of them, I think that your job is absolutely paramount in this business.”
He shoots you a smirk, “guess we’ll be working together.”
“If I get this job,” you counter, giving him a playful smile.
“Which you will.”
Your laughter echoes throughout the space, holding the copy of your resume tightly in your hands. After a few minutes of silence, a thought that has been nagging at the back of your mind comes to the forefront.
“When you say your boss can be picky…you’re talking about Kim Seokjin right?”
He opens his mouth to answer when the sound of a phone ringing interrupts him.
Trotting back to the reception desk, you watch him answer the phone and mutter a few ‘okays.’ Putting the phone down, he beams at you, “you can go in now. Fighting!”
Rubbing your palms on your skirt, you adjust your bag around your shoulder and walk to the door he had indicated earlier. You knock on the door twice, but no one answers. Taking it as your cue to enter, you open the door and shut it again carefully, spinning around to see a large desk in front of a floor to ceiling window, a man in a suit with his back facing toward you as a woman next to him seems to be adjusting his tie then starts buttoning up her shirt, a large smile on her face as she smooths her hair down.
Clearing your throat, the woman takes notice of your presence. Her eyebrows furrow, loud voice startling you.
“Who said you could come in?”
Taking a few steps forward, you place your resume on the desk in front of the man whose back is still facing you.
“Taehyung, at the reception…”
Gaze flicking between your face and the resume, she picks up a black pen, shoving the folder around.
“We already have this,” you notice some of her red lipstick smeared on her chin.
“I know,” you swallow, “it had said that I should carry one to the interview.”
Leaning back in her chair, she crosses her arms, placing one leg over the other as she points to the chair in front of the desk. The man’s hand reaches for her thigh, squeezing it through her black stockings. You bow, trying to calm your breathing as you prepare for their questions.
“So tell us, why should we hire you?”
Jumping right into it, you think. You feel a little tense from the way she’s looking at you, almost like she’s sizing you up. But you push those thoughts away and think of why you’re here in the first place.
“When I read the job posting, I noticed that you were looking for someone with a mid- or intermediate level of marketing experience for the art gallery. If you have a look at my resume-“
“We’ve already been through your resume. Give us something else.”
You hold back a cough when the man interrupts you, back still turned to you. How rude.
Do these people even know what a proper interview entails? How unprofessional of them to be intimate during working hours, especially when a potential employee is in their presence. They probably think you can’t see what’s going on behind the desk. Judging from this short exchange, it seems like you won’t be able to work with people like them.
“I’m sorry,” you stand from your seat, grabbing your resume from the desk and bowing one last time. Giving the back of the man’s head a glare. You’ll find a job elsewhere, you’re here in Seoul after years and there are plenty marketing jobs out there. You just thought that working in an art gallery might be a little exciting, far different from your other marketing posts.
You’re about to sling your bag over your shoulder when the woman whispers something to the man, he spins around, finally showing you his ug-
You stare at each other, jaws touching the floor, frozen in place.
“I love this weather.”
The boy sitting next to you hums, too engrossed in his phone to actually appreciate the weather.
You adjust your position on the couch, placing your chin on your hands as you watch the raindrops trickle down the window.
“Did you speak to your dad and brother?”
He shakes his head, lip tucked between his teeth as his thumbs work at a fast pace, typing away. Your eyebrows furrow, wondering who he could be chatting to if you’re sitting right here. It can’t be any of his family members, they’re too old to chat. Plus, his friends are probably pissed out drunk at this time.
“Who are you chatting to?”
Shaking his head again, he moves away from you, elbow digging into the armrest.
“Jungkook,” you whine, “you’ve been on that damn phone ever since we got here. This is our chill time. Remember?”
“Fuck Y/N, could you stop being such a nag?”
You’re a bit taken aback at his tone, he never raises his voice at you, ever. Something is definitely up.
Scooting closer to him, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing your chest into his back and kissing the mole on his neck. He sighs, locking his phone and placing it screen down on the couch. He unhooks your hands from around his chest, gently pushing you away, eyes not meeting yours.
A small frown forms on your face at his reaction, he loves your cuddles, you can feel tears prickle your eyes.
“Y/N,” he scratches behind his neck, you watch him attentively, waiting for him to tell you what’s wrong.
“I think…I think we should break up.”
You can feel your heart thud in your chest, hands shivering as you blink at him. The boy in front of you suddenly a stranger.
“W-Why?” Tears start to roll down your flushed cheeks, nose clogging up.
“Because…We’ve been together for so long since high school and-“
Your face is hot, anger seeping through you at his words. How could he suddenly have this change of heart, everything was fine just yesterday. You’re trying to look into his eyes but he avoids your gaze, picking at his calluses.
“We’ve been together for so long and aren’t you bored?”
You surge forward, taking his hands in yours, “no, Jungkook, I’m not bored. I love you. I meant everything I said before. I will never get bored of you-“
Your voice is nasally, shaking as you try to plead with him.
Removing his hands from your hold, he places them in your lap, his eyes finally meeting yours and the look in them tells you everything you need to know.
“B-But you’re bored of me?”
More of a question than a statement but his face lights up like you finally got what he’s trying to say. Your heart thunders in your chest, stomach flipping at the thought that Jungkook won’t be in your life anymore. That you weren’t enough to make him stay, that your words meant nothing to him, that all his words could’ve been lies.
“Not bored…But I think we should see other people, I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to but Y/N, we’re gonna be twenty-two very soon and- and don’t you think that five years is a long time?”
You don’t respond, knowing that when Jungkook has his mind set on something, no one, not even you could change his mind.
“I think that these are our years to have fun, not be in a committed relationship.”
His words strike through your chest, you just want him out of your sight.
“Okay?” He smiles, coming closer to give you a hug but you push him away, giving him a teary smile back.
“So let’s watch a movie now,” he reaches for the remote but you snatch it from him.
He gives you a perplexed look, you avert your gaze to the hallway.
“Uhm, I think I’m coming down with the flu. Can I rest?”
“Y/N, don’t be like that…”
“Don’t be like what?!”
Your chest is heaving, his eyes are blank as he searches yours. He grabs his coat and heads for the door, muttering a ‘bye, Y/N’ as it clicks shut.
Wordlessly, you grab the tissue box from the coffee table, padding down the hallway and locking your room door. Flopping face first into your mattress, your cries are muffled, unsure of what to do with the hurt that surmounts physical pain.
What hurts the most was that he didn’t even seem sad to not be with you anymore. He even thought that everything could go back to normal, that you could be friends despite having so much of history together. No more Jungkook and Y/N.
You’ve even had your first time together after you graduated high school, your sobs get louder when his face of pure happiness and pleasure fills your mind, how he made sure to be gentle with you, how you explored your likes and dislikes together.
He was probably the sweetest, most considerate guy you have ever met in your entire life, how could you miss the signs? You try to pinpoint a moment from today, from yesterday, from last week, last month, when did things change for him? When did he realize that he doesn’t love you anymore? What if he never loved you? You literally handed him your heart all those years ago, you can still remember the day you fell in love with him.
Your blanket is soaked with tears, but you couldn’t care, you only care about the fact that Jungkook was probably lying to you all this time. How easy it was for him to let everything go.
Sitting up on your elbows, you wipe your tears away roughly, sniffling as you snatch your phone from the nightstand, blocking his number and blocking him from everything.
If only it was that easy to block him from your heart.
Weeks pass and Jungkook’s intentions became perfectly clear to you when you saw him at a few parties during the weekends. A different girl on his arm each time you saw him on campus, not an ounce of sadness, when you spend all your nights crying and thinking of the past, wondering where you went wrong when you were so in love. At least, you know you were.
You know that it would be a long, long time before you get over him, a new man in your life is out of the question. Despite the fact that Jimin is trying extremely hard to set you up with his friends. They’re charming and sweet, but you don’t want to hurt someone else due to the fact you aren’t over your ex.
You decide to channel your energy on things that matter, things like your career and your future. It’s okay to think of him now and again, but time heals all wounds.
Jungkook can feel the blood rush to his ears. He stands from his chair and makes his way to you, your eyes are as wide as saucers as you look him up and down, he smirks, doing the same. You look as soft as he remembers, however, the look in your eyes tells him that years have passed, a much more mature woman standing in front of him. Before he can think twice, he wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close to him. He shuts his eyes as he sniffs your hair, your sweet candy scent now replaced with rich vanilla.
When you break apart, he can’t tear his eyes away from you, the interview and everything else forgotten. You look beautiful in the beige coat, he always loved neutral colors on you.
“Do you two know each other or something?”
His eyes flicker to Soojin still sitting at the desk, he knows how intimidated she gets in the presence of his attractive clients, he can only imagine how she must feel in front of you, especially when his hands are still placed on your shoulders.
Taking a step back and away from his hold, your voices overlap as you answer the question.
Jungkook chuckles at your response, you might be right, you knew each other. Past tense. He’d love to get to know the new you.
“Y/N, this is my assistant Soojin,” he watches you give her a wary smile.
“Soojin, this is Y/N, Euphoria’s new Marketing Manager.”
Jungkook doesn’t give Soojin time to protest before he’s handing you a few documents.
“Soojin, would you give us a few minutes, thank you.”
When the door shuts behind her, he turns to you, his smile doesn’t falter as your face is set in a blank expression.
“You didn’t have to give me the job, that wasn’t a proper interview.”
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he walks over to his chair, gesturing to the jug of water on the table. You shake your head, taking the seat you had previously occupied, scanning the documents he gave you.
“I know you’re capable,” he shrugs, unable to take his eyes off of you, you’re even more beautiful than the last time he saw you, he cocks his head as his eyes rake down your figure, not much to see with your long coat concealing most of it but he does notice that your boobs look fuller. Your habit of forming a pout as you concentrate on signing the documents makes him smile.
“You haven’t changed a bit,” you speak, gaze still fixed on the documents.
He chuckles, knowing what you’re referring to. You must’ve seen the interaction with Soojin.
“Well, I can only hope you haven’t.”
Your eyes lift to meet with his, a smirk plastered on his face. You still have the same blank expression on yours as you hand him the documents, gaze unfaltering as he lets his fingers brush yours as he takes the stack of papers from you. You bow, carrying your bag as you walk to the door. He’s a little confused, he thought that you would catch up on these past few years.
“Hey, wait, Y/N. We haven’t seen each other in years,” walking over to you, he buttons his blazer, hearing you sigh.
You stop in place, turning around to give him a smile, one that could be described as professional.
“I’ll see you tomorrow sajangnim.”
His eyebrows furrow, you’ve known each other since high school and now you’re acting all formal with him.
“What’s with the formalities? How have you been, Y/N? You look great.”
“Thanks, you too,” your eyes flicker to his lips, “red looks good on you.”
You turn on your heel, exiting the room with him still confused at your remark. He doesn’t have any red on him?
“Oh my God, Jimin. I don’t know what possessed me to sign those papers.”
You hear your friend chortle over the speaker, “the power of Jeon dick!”
“Please,” granola stuffed into your cheek, “that dick has been all over the country.”
“Yeah, but it was fresh when you had it.”
You set the spoon in your bowl, pointing at the screen threateningly, “I did not call you to discuss Jungkook’s dick.”
He raises his hands defensively, “I’m just saying, you did say he got better each time.”
“Okay okay, I’m done. But in all seriousness, don’t you think it’s weird that you completely missed the fact that he owns that gallery.”
You nod, swallowing your yoghurt, “when I did research, he was literally nowhere on the site, it just stated that Kim Seokjin is working on the development of the art gallery. BUT when I checked on the site a few hours ago, and did a little more digging, turns out that Kim Seokjin works under Jeon Jungkook, owner of Jeon Inc, who owns that building and left that space for the sole purpose of building said gallery.”
“I think it’s so funny that all he ever complained about when you two were together was how he’ll never take over his father’s business yet here he is.”
You hum, “but one thing I know for sure, he’s still a massive flirt. It’s just so…weird that he happened to be-“
“Your boss!”
“Uhm yeah, I just hope he keeps me out of his love affairs. We might be exes but the only thing I’ll have with him is a strict professional relationship.”
“Fate is inevitable Y/N.”
“I think it was just the circumstances.”
Jimin yells into the speaker, “don’t deny fate!”
“Stop yelling! I miss you! When are you coming back to Seoul?”
“Hmm, before the gallery opening, don’t worry.”
“You better,” you warn, “I’m gonna need you there.”
“Why?” He smirks, “need me to save you from Jungkook’s massive schlo-“
“Shut the fuck up Jimin! That’s it, goodnight.”
“Sweet dreams, or should I say sweet di-“
Shutting your laptop, you set your now empty bowl on the nightstand and pull your blanket over your head. You need all the sleep you can get for your first day tomorrow.
It’s 6:46AM when you arrive at the building, Taehyung had messaged to inform you that they plan on opening the doors to the public by the end of this week, so that means earlier mornings for now.
Pushing the glass doors open, you see someone sitting at the reception desk, not Taehyung. He lifts his head when he hears your heels clicking on the tiles. Waving, you make your way over to introduce yourself, this must be Kim Namjoon.
“Hi, I’m Y/N, the-“
“Sales Marketing Manager of Euphoria Gallery, I’m Kim Namjoon, just the regular manager around here but it seems like I’m also the receptionist,” he stands from his seat, two deep dimples denting his cheeks.
Chuckling, you shake his hand, “Taehyung had told me that you’re still looking for a receptionist and your office isn’t complete as yet.”
He walks around the counter, “yeah. Guess I just have to deal with it for now. Come, let me show you your office.”
As you walk along the small hallway that’s near the reception desk, he fills you in on what the plans are for this week. How they had received over one hundred submissions when the opening of this gallery was announced.
“Taehyung’s got his work cut out for him,” you toss your hair behind your shoulder to readjust your bag.
He nods, fitting a key into a white door with a blank nametag stuck to it.
“So do I, he’s just the dealer, I plan the exhibits and stuff. And so do you Y/N. I already set all the files on your desk, you’d just have to work through them,” he holds the door open for you to enter, bright sunlight lighting up the space, “but Taehyung handled the first few sales until someone took your-“
Both you and Namjoon spot someone sitting behind your desk, he spins around in the black leather chair.
“Jungkookie? What are you doing here this early?”
Namjoon’s voice goes high-pitched to show his surprise which matches yours, but Jungkook’s eyes are fixed on you. You see Namjoon look between the two of you from the corner of your eye when silence settles in the warm space.
“Leave us hyung.”
Namjoon silently exits the room, closing the door behind him as he goes.
You avert your gaze to the view behind him, setting your bag and water bottle on the desk as you speak.
“I think this is supposed to be my desk.”
He chuckles, sitting up from the seat and pushing his coat back to stuff his hands into his pockets.
“It’s all yours, sweetheart.”
You scoff, walking to the desk to skim the files that Namjoon had mentioned earlier. “What do you want?”
“Can’t I talk to an old friend?”
You lift your head to look at him, “an old friend? I think you’re forgetting something.”
Taking a step closer to you, his eyes move up and down your body, you suddenly feel so exposed under his gaze. You take a step back and hold up your palms to keep him away.
“I remember everything about you, Y/N.”
“Listen. Jungkook. This is my job now which I take very seriously. I don’t have time for all your bullshit. I’ve left that in college. So would you please keep this relationship professional?”
He stops in his tracks, cocking his head to the side as he searches your eyes, you take notice of the eyebrow piercing.
“Funny, you’re here today.”
His eyebrows furrow, “I own this place, Y/N.”
Folding your arms, you lean your hip on the desk, “I mean, funny that you’re here, where you are, today. Jeon Jungkook, owner of Jeon Inc. I didn’t think you’d give in to your father.”
That seems to rattle him a bit, he moves to stare out the window, “on my terms of course.”
You hum, remembering his parent’s aversion to tattoos and piercings.
“That’s why I’m investing in this gallery,” he continues, “it’s something I want. And if I can’t sell my art then I’ll help others sell theirs.”
It still doesn’t make sense to you, but you’ll let it go for now. If you continue to talk about your personal matters, you’ll eat your own words of keeping this relationship strictly professional.
Sighing loudly, he turns around to look at you and you flicker your gaze to the files on your desk.
“I have work to do.”
He nods in understanding, walking over to the door but not before calling over his shoulder, “I’ll be back, Y/N.”
Is that a threat or a promise?
The week passes by quickly and it’s already Friday, you, Namjoon and Taehyung had worked tirelessly throughout the week to get everything in order for the opening tomorrow.
Jungkook was there every day, without the woman from your interview, at your desk, still pestering you about…you still have to figure out what he wants from you but the bedroom eyes he keeps shooting your way gives you a vague idea. Which is a warning for: avoid at all costs.
It’s only natural to keep your guard up around him. He ruined your chances of love for a few years, constantly keeping your walls up around men who could’ve possible been good for you. Jimin had said that you shouldn’t project your trust issues on others but it’s just you who has trust issues. It’s a part of your character now, to constantly be wary of what they say to you, not to believe them so easily.
If you’ve pushed other guys away because of him, your scepticism is heightened with Jungkook. He is the one who caused it in the first place, the one who shattered your heart and then pretended like nothing ever happened. Even now, you’ve obviously gotten over everything but there’s still a part of you that aches, he was your first love, your first everything.
You exit the elevator with Taehyung, chatting excitedly about tomorrow when he halts in his step. Following his gaze, you notice Jungkook standing a few feet away from you at the lounge area, watching the two of you.
“Goodnight, Y/N. See you tomorrow,” you tug on Taehyung’s cardigan.
“Where are you going?”
“It looks like he wants to talk to you.”
“I don’t want to talk to him,” you pout.
Chuckling, he detaches your hand from his clothing, “well, you have to. He’s our boss and I know he can be a bit scary but- Wait did he try his tricks on you or anything?”
You see Jungkook’s pierced eyebrow jump when he sees the two of you whispering, “he’s actually my ex from college days.”
“Seriously? Wasn’t he kind of a-“
“Before that,” you roll your eyes.
Taehyung’s mouth makes an ‘o’ shape, glancing at Jungkook then leaning over to speak in your ear, “he’s probably gonna ask you to be his date for the opening tomorrow. Just say you’re going with me.”
You nod, then turn your head to look at Taehyung again, “but I can’t lie, he’ll obviously be there tomorrow.”
“No you idiot! You are gonna be my date!”
“Ohhhhh, thank you…for asking me.”
“Yes,” he hugs you then pushes you in Jungkook’s direction, “now go.”
Stumbling in front of Jungkook, he raises a finger to point between you and Taehyung’s retreating figure, “what’s going with you two?”
“Oh nothing.”
You honestly don’t have to explain yourself to him.
“What did you want,” you question, glancing at your watch like you’re so desperate to get home to your key lime pie.
“Oh,” he smooths down a strand of hair, “would you want to come with me to the opening? You know like a date? A plus one?”
You click your tongue, “Taehyung already asked me. I’m sorry.”
Even though you’re totally not sorry.
You see a flash of something wash over his features, but you don’t know what it was. Probably not used to getting turned down.
You hear him mumble Taehyung’s name and you realise that you’ve been standing there awkwardly. Saying goodnight, you begin to walk away from him when he calls out your name. Stopping with your hand on the silver handle, you curse and turn around, seeing him make his way to you.
“Then let’s have dinner, have you eaten yet?”
“No, I haven’t,” not even trying to conceal the irritation in your voice.
“Then let’s eat, I can take you to this one restaurant, their steak is to die for. You love steak, right?”
Your stomach growls at the mention of steak and your heart clenches at the thought that he actually remembers what you like to eat. But you shake your head, burying that feeling.
“Yeah but my car is here.”
You find yourself following him into the parking lot.
“I’ll ask one of my drivers to take it to your apartment. Keys?”
“You know where I live?”
Your voice sounds so dumb when it came out and you want to slap yourself because obviously he would, he-
“You’re my employee Y/N.”
“Right, right.”
He holds out his palm, you rummage through your bag and drop the keys into his hand. He beams at you as he unlocks his car.
“Get in, I’ll be back in a bit.”
Sluggishly, you open the passenger side door, the fresh scent that could only belong to a new car fills your nostrils. He always liked Mercedes. As you’re appreciating the interior, you suddenly acknowledge that you’re sitting in Jungkook’s car. What the fuck are you doing? It’s been five years and this man is still in your life. Twenty-two year old you is shaking her head right now. Pathetic Y/N. Just pathetic.
You can feel yourself panic, breath starting to get heavy. Calm Y/N, calm. Deep breaths. This is just dinner, it’s fine. Nothing else, just a boss and his employee having dinner at 10PM after working hours. Oh my god, how unprofessional of you Y/N? What makes him so different? Remember that guy you turned down from accounting? Jung Hoseok? Just because he asked to have dinner with you after hours, yet here you are, in Jeon Jungkook’s car. The very same guy who ruined you for guys like Jung Hoseok. What the fuck are-
“Alright,” you didn’t even notice the car door open until he spoke. He’s busy checking his rear-view mirror and starting up the car.
You stare out the window, trying not to think to much into the situation. This is just for the steak.
He revs his engine, and you think he’s going to reverse out of the parking space, but he continues to rev, and you turn your head to look at him, seeing him have one hand on the steering wheel while the other is on the gear, a smirk on his face as he watches your reaction.
You feel your stomach flutter, he probably remembers the time that you told him he looks hot while he drives. This time, in his grey three-piece suit, he looks even sexier. But would you admit that to him? Absolutely not.
After what was probably five minutes spent revving his engine to seemingly impress you, he drives out of the building’s parking lot, speeding along the road.
He keeps the radio off, probably thinking that you’re going to engage in conversation, but you keep your eyes on the road. Trying to keep steak on the brain.
Ten minutes later, you arrive at the swanky restaurant, taking a seat at the far back table in the corner. His choosing of course.
The people at the restaurant seem to know him well, if the way the head chef rushes out of the kitchen to present the menu to him is anything to go by.
“Not tonight’s special, just steak for me and the pretty lady.”
The chef bows and files into the kitchen, the other cooks following close behind.
You admire the restaurant’s gold and black interior, mostly couples, who chatter and laugh, around the two of you.
Your gaze travels to the man in front of you, seeing him already looking at you with his elbows rested on the table and his chin on his knuckles.
“Nothing,” he sighs, “I just can’t believe that we’re here.”
You cock an eyebrow, tracing the rim of your wine glass with a finger, “where are we?”
“You know, here.Five years later, older and wiser, we’re both successful, sitting in a restaurant like this with fine wine.”
He lifts his glass in your direction and takes a sip, you chuckle.
“Sure you’re wiser, Jungkook?”
He gives you a defeated smile, “in business, maybe. In women, I’m hoping to be soon.”
You’re suddenly paranoid about the look he’s giving you. You open your mouth to ask him what he means but you’re cut off when the bubbly chef presents the steak. You smell it before you see it, jowls tingling at the scent.
“Jeon-ssi and his pretty lady,” he bows in front of you and you lift a hand to object but his sweet, crumbly smile makes you shut your mouth.
“He’s waiting to see what you think,” Jungkook whispers from across the table, already taking his third bite of the meat.
Picking up your fork and knife, you carve out a bite-sized piece and pop it into your mouth, taste buds tingling at the delectable taste.
“It’s absolutely delicious, thank you.”
He bows again and heads back to the kitchen.
“So, you like it,” Jungkook prods, proud smile on his face like he had prepared the food.
“I love it, thank you,” serotonin coursing through you due to the tasty food you’re eating.
He clears his throat, “so tell me about you and Taehyung?”
You stop mid-chew, “what about us?”
Honestly, you were expecting to ask him about your life and whatnot. But a man of his capabilities, he probably knows everything he needs and wants to know.
“I saw you two earlier. And you work closely at the gallery. It’s okay to have a few flings at work.”
You choke on the wine, “I keep my relationships strictly professional when it comes to the workplace. Less drama. I think I told you this before.”
“Yet here you are,” he chirps, “having dinner with your boss.”
You tuck your tongue in your cheek, your twenty-two-year-old self wagging a finger at you. I told you so.
You should’ve known, Jungkook doesn’t know limits. You have a good mind of leaving this restaurant right now and leaving Seoul for eternity. Why did you ever think you could have a decent conversation with him? His intentions always show themselves as he speaks.
“What do you want Jungkook?”
“A chance?”
“A chance for what?”
“To show you that I’m not who I was. That I’ve changed. That I’m not the same immature guy from college. I’m a man now.”
Did his voice just deepen at that last part?
This is what he wants, to lure you into his trap and break your heart a second time. You cannot give in to him. You will not.
Lifting your head to give him an answer, you’re met with two pleading, doe-eyes. The kind that takes you back five years ago, the kind that you fell in love with.
“Let’s see.”
And then the bunny grin, “is that a yes?”
You sigh, “I’ll see if you’ve changed for myself.”
Tucking into the steak again, his voice sounds too victorious, “I’ll prove it to you.”
Jungkook adjusts his shirt sleeves, turning to the side to check that his pants sit right. He’s nervous for tonight, his first solo project without his brother’s assistance. He’s even more nervous about the fact that you’ve given him a chance, not that he doubts his abilities to make you fall for him again. It’s just that women love him, they stick to him like glue and he hopes that you don’t take it the wrong way.
He has to be good to his clients and employees.
Sending Soojin a quick text, he lets her know that he’s on his way to pick her up.
He’s about to leave his house when he realizes that he hasn’t sprayed on any perfume. Running back up the stairs, he heads to his closet, choosing a fragrance that he thinks you might like then giving himself one last look in the mirror.
Show time.
Thanking everyone for their kind words, he receives tons of praise for the gallery as he enters, Soojin holding tightly onto his arm. He scans the crowd, trying to look past one of his elderly clients to find you.
“Want a drink, babe?”
He shakes his head, Soojin proceeding to the small bar set up near the entrance.
After five minutes of being stopped by every single person he passed, he spots you. White dress with your hair pinned up in a bun, pink lipgloss that looks like the natural shade of your lips when they’re swollen, the exact shade that reminds him of your lips slick with his saliva after a heated makeout session.
Adjusting his tie, he walks in your direction, seeing Taehyung standing next to you, also wearing white. Fuck. Did you two plan to match? And he’s wearing black. He stops to watch you from afar, seeing Taehyung lightly place an arm around your waist, giggling as you admire one of the pieces.
He walks back to the bar and orders a beer. It’s been a while since he’s felt like this for a woman, he feels so territorial, so possessive of you. It doesn’t even matter what that ass Taehyung does anyway. He’s the boss and you gave him a chance.
No one else.
Downing the beer, he sees Soojin saunter over to him.
“Hi babe. Let’s talk to a few more people shall we?”
Soojin puts her arm in his as they walk, he’s too pissed off to give a shit about anything else.
“I think that this one will sell first.”
“Nah. People like abstract. That one will.”
You follow Taehyung’s gaze, an ahh leaving your mouth in understanding.
“Don’t you think it’s weird that we’re both wearing white today,” you giggle.
“Well, you’re wearing a white dress and I’m wearing a white shirt. And you happen to be my date for the night. Totally not weird.”
You chuckle, taking a sip of your drink and following Taehyung to the next display. He’s fun company.
You’re about to comment when a squeal interrupts you.
“Hi, Soojin.”
The woman, Soojin, is the one that was at your interview.
“Hey Y/N.”
The breathy whisper tickles your ear, and you turn around in shock, seeing Jungkook standing too close with a smirk on his face.
“Oh, hey Jungkook.”
He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you to his chest, your eyes widen in surprise, aware of the people around you.
“What are you doing?” You hold your palm up to his chest while the other balances your drink in your hand.
“Can’t I hold you like this?”
“What? No, you cannot.”
You squirm out of his grip, gaze flickering to the red patch on his white dress shirt. Red lipstick.
“You gave me a chance?”
“Yes I did,” you speak through gritted teeth, “but I didn’t say that we were together or anything. You can’t hold me like that.”
“You didn’t seem to mind when Taehyung did it. Are you together?”
“What? No,” you try to keep your composure, “what is your problem?”
His eyes burn into yours, anger evident in them, with your own rage consuming you. You should’ve known that Jungkook only had one intention when he asked for a chance. You probably have two completely different perspectives on what that could imply.
Soojin tugs at his arm, she looks between the two of you. Red lipstick stretching with her mouth as she gives you a half-hearted smile.
Your eyebrows raise in realization, he just wanted to fuck you. Like he doesn’t get enough.
You turn to walk in Taehyung’s direction but a hand around your wrist stops you from moving.
“Let go of me, Jungkook.”
You whip your head around to stare at your hand, seeing his tattooed fingers curled around your wrist.
“Jungkook,” you stand in front of him so you’re toe to toe, “I said let go of me. I gave you a chance and you blew it. Now let go of my wrist.”
“How did I blow it?”
“By being yourself. You’re just a pathetic womanizer who uses money to get your way. Now let me go.”
He drops your hand and you walk away from him, Taehyung standing across the room, a confused look on his face.
As you’re walking, a figure tackles you. Working fast you spread his legs with your foot and grip his hand from around your back, twisting it and shoving him away from you. He yelps in pain.
“OW! What the fuck Y/N?!”
“What is wrong with you? Is this how you greet your friend when you see him after three months?”
You surge forward, throwing your arms around his shoulders and burying your face in his neck.
“I missed you. I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” He strokes your hair, “Jungkook saw your little show, so at least he knows not to mess with you.”
You chuckle, “c’mon I have to introduce you to someone.”
“So let me get this straight. He broke up with you, then fucked every single girl from your HR class?”
“And my Anatomy class!” Jimin adds, cheese strings slapping his chin as he takes a bite of the pizza.
“Mhm,” you suck some sauce off your thumb, “and he bragged about it to everyone. Including my friends.”
“So that shows that he didn’t regret it at all and he never actually loved Y/N,” Jimin speaks with his cheeks stuffed, nodding to you because you’ve had this discussion a thousand times.
Both you and Jimin wait for Taehyung’s response to all this. He pushes his glasses up, “and he said he didn’t want to be in a serious relationship at the time?”
“Committed,” Jimin corrects and you nod again.
“Honestly, from like, a guy’s perspective, no offense Jimin, maybe he knew that he couldn’t control his raging hormones? Maybe he didn’t want to hurt you by cheating on you, so he broke up with you to save all the heartbreak.”
“But I was still heartbroken in the end!”
“Yeah but, what if,” he crosses his legs and wipes his hands with a tissue, “you were meant to be together now?”
“You’re on to something, Tae.”
You look between Jimin and Taehyung, then spot the smirk on Jimin’s face.
“No. Jimin, if you bring up that fate bullshit one more time-“
“Let’s just listen to what Taehyung has to say!”
He clears his throat, “I’m just saying. I know he sleeps around a lot and I’m not trying to justify any of his actions. But like what if he really meant what he said? About proving to you that he’s changed?”
“That doesn’t even matter. Soojin was his date for the night and I saw lipstick on his shirt!”
Taehyung chuckles, then points to a red stain on his white shirt, not sauce. Red lipstick.
“She gets it on everyone. If you’re wearing literally any light color, you’re doomed if she’s anywhere near you. Plus, I haven’t seen him with her since the day of your interview.”
“But, but,” your eyes search the lounge, “that day! At my interview! It looked like they just fucked before I entered the room!”
“Okay maybe they are fucking but maybe he won’t now that you’re in the picture.”
You give him a wary look, still unwilling to accept whatever he’s saying.
“What exactly did you say to him today? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like that. He looked so angry, yet sad at the same time…”
You gather the empty pizza boxes, “I told him that he blew his chance.”
“How did he blow his chance idiot???” Jimin yells into your ear, completely breaking your train of thought.
“Fuck Jimin, can a bitch think?”
You roll your eyes and face the couch where Taehyung sits again, “he, like, put his arm around my waist. And when I tried to push him away, he said that I didn’t have a problem when you did it.”
Taehyung eyes widen.
“Then when I tried to walk away from him, he gripped my wrist, like literally everyone around us was staring! Even Soojin was there! I just didn’t like that he thinks he can do whatever he wants just because I agreed to giving him a chance.”
Taehyung and Jimin sigh in unison.
“Shouldn’t that tell you something, if he doesn’t care who’s around and he doesn’t mind being seen with you? Honestly, the only woman I’ve seen him with in public was Soojin, and that’s because she’s his assistant, no one will really suspect anything.”
“Yes but-“
“I think you gave up too quickly.”
“What?” Your eyes bug out of your head, and you hear Jimin snigger from beside you, collapsing onto the rug, sandy blonde hair covering his face.
“What else did you tell him?”
You try to ignore Jimin’s wails of laughter, “I told him that he blew his chance by being himself. And that he’s a pathetic womanizer…something like that.”
“Yeah, you really deflated his ego,” Jimin wipes a tear from the corner of his eye.
“I think you should shut the fuck up Jimin. Taehyung, it isn’t my job to inflate his ego and I only spoke the truth,” you shrug.
“Yeah, but you gave up too easily. He didn’t even get a proper chance, the poor guy.”
You open your mouth to counter, but he cuts you off.
“It’s up to you, but I think you should speak to him on Monday.”
“What should I say?”
He shrugs, “just think about everything. From the very beginning. Think about how he said he’ll prove to you that he’s changed and you didn’t even give him twenty-four hours before you gave up.”
A few minutes pass as you take his words in.
“Up to you, of course.”
Maybe you were a little harsh.
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Monday rolls by and after thinking it through literally the entire weekend, you decided that the next time you see Jungkook, you’ll talk to him and apologize for blowing him off but you won’t apologize for the way you reacted when he held you like that. You aren’t one of his hook ups.
You sit at your desk, answering a few emails and browsing the sales that took place after the gallery opening, Taehyung pops into your office, whispering as he goes.
“He’s here, if you wanna…”
“I’ll just wait for him to come here, he’ll definitely pay me a visit.”
Nodding, he exits the room and you take the opportunity to touch up your lipstick before Jungkook enters.
Five minutes turn into ten into twenty into thirty minutes waiting for him to walk into your office. You get restless and decide to take your lunch break now.
Walking down the small hallway, you see Taehyung and Namjoon, who look like they’re deep in conversation as they stare at the computer screen.
“Hey guys.”
You lean in close to Taehyung, “where’s Jungkook?”
“He didn’t come to see you?”
You shake your head.
“Oh, he left about ten minutes ago.”
“Okay, I’m gonna head out for lunch.”
Walking out the double doors, you can’t help but think that it’s odd that he didn’t come to see you. The one week you spent working at Euphoria was filled with him pestering you at any chance he can get.
You’ll just wait for tomorrow.
The week is over, and you didn’t see Jungkook once, he always leaves before you get to see him. Work is getting even more stressful with thousands of submissions from artists looking for representation. Taehyung and Namjoon deal with the hectic parts of it but you still have to find a way to ensure that each artist is dealt with when it comes to showcasing their work.
It’s two weeks later when you finally see him, but his behavior has you feeling a little edgy.
You were talking to Namjoon about the next exhibition when you see him enter, he nods to everyone but completely ignores you and you can’t help but feel a little angry at that. He’s pretending that you don’t exist because he did something wrong? That can’t be right.
Maybe what you said to him that day really hit a sore spot?
You huff, walking over to him, ponytail swishing behind you as your heels click with each step.
“Hey Jungkook.”
He keeps his eyes on some papers as he stands at the reception desk, “Hello Y/N.”
“How are you?”
“Superb. And you?”
“Is there anything I can help you with?”
“Yes,” you clear you throat, “you can start by telling me why you’ve been avoiding him since the opening.”
He drops his pen, eyes still not meeting yours, “why don’t you tell me? Hmm?”
“Or you can’t because you’re you, right? So entitled, such a goody two shoes, never makes any mistakes.”
His eyes finally bore into yours and you feel your cheeks heat, grimacing at his tone.
“What are you talking about? You have no right to be angry with me.”
“I have no right?” He takes a step forward so he’s towering over you, you gulp, “I asked for a chance and you took the first opportunity to call it a day. I told you that I’ll prove to you that I’ve changed. Then you insult me, you don’t even know me anymore just like I don’t know you.”
You open your mouth to speak, even though you have no idea what will come out, but he speaks before you.
“I know that I’ve fucked up in the past but I’m not the same guy anymore Y/N.”
“You sure?” You cock an eyebrow and he raises his own in question.
“Literally everyone knows that you sleep around.”
“Yes I do, I sleep around, I fuck who I want whenever I want. But I’ve never cheated in my entire life. And the last time I actually wanted a relationship was with you.”
His eyes soften as he continues, you can feel the blood rush to your ears, slowly slipping under his hold that seems so intoxicating.
“I know that you’re guarded, I know that you’re finding it hard to trust me again but I promise, none of the women I’ve been with ever came close to you,” he shakes his head, “and I’m not just saying that, I mean it.”
He lifts his hand to hold your shoulder but lets it fall to his side.
“Would you mind giving me another chance?”
You bite your lip in contemplation, his beady doe-eyes patiently waiting for your answer. You did feel guilty after that night, not only because of the talk you had with Taehyung, but because you regretted saying those things to him as soon as it left your lips.
He can sense your hesitation and he sighs, taking a step away from and you suddenly feel a chill run down your spine.
“I’m leaving for Tokyo tomorrow, for a week before the next exhibition. I’m going alone but if you want,” his eyes search yours, “you can come with. Bring your work along.”
He gathers his files and walks out, leaving you a little lightheaded with his scent still lingering around and his words still nudging into your heart.
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You pace around your room, phone in hand. It’s easy for you to just call and tell him that you’ll go with him but at the same time, it isn’t. Someone who caused you years of heartache, is asking for another chance. Can you risk it? Are you willing to take that chance?
Thinking of what Taehyung and Jimin had kept saying, you groan, flopping down on your bed as you chew on your lip. Maybe it was meant for you to be together now? When you’re older and more experienced. If you didn’t break up all those years ago, he would’ve probably been bored of you now if not earlier.
Sitting up and folding your legs under your body, you make up your mind.
He answers after the third ring and suddenly, you completely forget the reason why you dialled his number in the first place.
You shut your eyes, “hey, it’s me.”
You hear his clear chuckle filter through the speaker, causing your stomach to do backflips.
“Made up your mind?”
“And…I’ll come with,” you twiddle with a strand of hair.
You can literally hear the happiness in his voice, and it makes you smile too.
“Okay, I’ll book your ticket and fetch you tomorrow at 3PM, okay?”
“God, thank you Y/N.”
“For giving me another chance, even though I don’t deserve it.”
You roll your eyes, still smiling, “bye Jungkook.”
“Bye Y/N~”
Tossing your phone on the bed, you jump and down, trying to let out the excitement and nerves. Then you smooth your hands down your nightgown, inhaling deeply.
You hope you aren’t making a terrible mistake.
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By the time you arrive and get settled in at the hotel, it’s already dinner time and Jungkook shoots you a text to inform you that he’ll meet you downstairs, so you can eat together. You’re a little nervous, no, you’re extremely nervous and you have no idea what to wear to dinner, so you opt for a black strappy dress that sits mid-thigh.
Jungkook’s room is right next to yours, so when you finally leave your room, you see him doing the same and he does a double take, eyes sweeping over your figure, making you blush as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. He was never good at hiding his emotions.
He pokes out his elbow for you to shove your hand into the small gap, smiling at him as you wait for the elevator.
“You look amazing, Y/N.”
“Thank you,” you admire his black dress pants and shirt tucked in, sticking to his slim waist, “you too.”
“Thanks,” he ushers you into the elevator, palm at the small of your back.
It’s quiet as you go down, watching the numbers change on the small screen, waiting for 1 to appear. The elevator doors open with a ding and he takes your hand in his again, walking along the glossy floors as you take the turn in through the restaurant, warm air hitting your face while he chats to the hostess.
“Right this way,” you follow her as she takes you to a seat right at the back of the restaurant, a cozy table with Jeon printed on a white card.
“We’ll be with you shortly,” she bows and makes her way back to the front.
Jungkook pulls your chair out for you and pushes it in as you sit, he takes the seat opposite you.
You find yourself in a similar position to the other night, except you’re in much fancier clothes at a fancier restaurant and you’re aren’t having an internal debate as you watch the man in front of you.
“Let’s order, then we can talk about whatever you want,” he smiles.
“Whatever Iwant?”
He nods, “whatever you want.”
“What if you don’t like what I talk about?” You poke, the yellow lighting making a sunset form in his eyes as he leans forward.
“I’ll still let you talk,” he shrugs, gesturing to the menu in front of you.
You order and eat, and it’s quiet again, the same recurring quiet that settles between the two of you. Glancing at him, you see he’s already watching you.
“I’m waiting for you to talk.”
“Oh,” you take a sip of your drink, “well I do have a lot of things I want to ask you.”
“Go ahead.”
You think about your conversation the other day, the one that was cut short.
“What made you change your mind about joining your father’s business?”
He purses his lips, takes a swig of his own drink then wipes his mouth.
“I felt like it was the right thing to do.”
“And abandon your dreams?”
“I agreed to go to business school all those years ago for a reason, Y/N,” his eyes meet yours, “and I didn’t abandon my dreams.”
You place your arms on the table and lean forward, “really?”
“You did tell me that you opened the gallery to sell other’s art, even if you can’t sell yours. When that was your dream, to let the world appreciate the emotion that spills in the form of color on a canvas.”
There’s a glint in his eyes, not the kind you see every day, but a different one. And you realize that you remembered his words after all these years, like he whispered them to you just yesterday.
“Yeah,” he murmurs, gaze still piercing into yours and you feel a throb in your abdomen as his tongue runs over his lower lip.
“I will, when the time is right.”
“No better time than now,” you shrug.
“Yes, no better time than now,” he repeats, and you see the smirk form on his face, the hidden implication becoming clear to you.
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The hostess had come to your table to inform you that the restaurant will be closing soon, and you’re shocked when you notice that it’s after midnight, you had spent hours chatting to Jungkook about the past, the future and Euphoria.
You’re a little buzzed from the champagne but you manage to make it to your room door, Jungkook’s arm wrapped around your waist as yours is curled around his neck, no objections from you this time.
You lean on the doorframe, giving Jungkook a giddy smile as he opens his door, the feelings that were dulled by grey clouds and chilly weather are now being refreshed with the rain and sunlight, making the corners of your mouth stretch until it hurts.
“Goodnight, Y/N,” he murmurs, shooting you a wink that makes you clench your thighs together. God, how long has it been since you last got laid?
“Aren’t you gonna come in,” you’re hearing yourself say, pointing to your bed. Maybe you’re NOT a little buzzed.
He walks over to you, and you straighten your posture, breath coming out in pants.
“Maybe some other time,” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Goodnight Y/N,” he dips his head and you shut your eyes, puckering your lips only for him to kiss the corner of your mouth, a bewildered look on your face.
He places his hand on your back again and gives you a gentle shove, you stumble into your room. He grabs the handle of the door and pulls it shut behind you.
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For his own sanity.
Unbuttoning his shirt, he flings it on the floor, chest heaving as he lays on his back, hands coming to remove his belt.
That was probably the hardest thing he has ever done in his entire life. His dick is the hardest thing he’s ever seen in his entire life as it springs from his underwear.
Throwing his head back against the soft pillows, he shuts his eyes, thinking of your sweet smile, your laughter playing in his head like a broken record.
Curling his fingers around his shaft, he hisses as he pumps his length, precum smearing everywhere as he thrusts into his hand, the curve of your waist flashing behind his lids, the sound of his name escaping your lips filling his ears. He fists his dick erratically, twisting around his head as he digs his teeth into his lower lip, imagining it was your tight pussy instead of his hand, warm walls gripping him like a vice.
He cries out your name, hips lifting of the bed as he fucks into his fist, heat shooting through his body as his dick twitches, trying to remember the way your tight pussy felt. Oh, the first time, it felt like heaven and it just kept getting better each time.
With a few more pumps, he cums all over his stomach and hand, curses filling the air as he cracks his eyes open, your face the only thing enshrouding his mind.
He doesn’t think he’s ever cum this hard and fast from just his hand.
Cleaning himself up, the thought of you never slipping, he can’t help but feel like he’s falling for you again. The way you both just click in ways he never did with anyone else. He was a dumb asshole for letting you go all those years ago. But now he knows for sure.
He cares about you, he wants you to be his, he wants you more than anything in the world.
As he catches sight of himself in the bathroom mirror, the upper part of his body a bright pink, he knows he can’t fuck this up.
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The next morning, you decide to do a little shopping to pass your time. Jungkook had informed you that he’ll be extremely busy this morning as he has to meet with a few clients and business partners. Obviously, your schedule here doesn’t revolve around him, you also want to do a little sightseeing of your own.
After hours of shopping and squeezing your wallet, you take a break on the bench in front of a pretty water fountain near the hotel, soaking in the sunlight as butterflies float around you, unfamiliar voices filling the silence.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
You lift your head to stare at the man with the raspy voice, but the sun blinds you.
“Yeah,” you reply as he sits down next to you.
You clutch your purse closer to you and it seems like he notices your action, a chuckle, deep and throaty, reaches your ears.
“I come in peace,” he laughs and you finally turn your head to look at him.
Blond hair, pushed back, making it easier for you to notice two cat-like eyes blinking back at you, pink lips set in a pout, he speaks again, and you realize that it’s just the way they’re molded, he isn’t pouting. He’s…attractive.
“You’re not from here,” he inquires, and you think that a man with such soft features couldn’t possible be a murderer, right?
“No, you?”
“Nah, Seoul, actually.”
“I work there,” you add, keeping your eyes on the trickling water.
“So, you’re here on holiday?”
“Guess so.”
You see him nod from your periphery and you think he’s done but he continues to speak.
“I’m actually here for some business, I’m an online art curator.”
That catches your attention.
“Yeah. Kind of like-“
“I know what that is, I work in an art gallery.”
He whips his head to look at you and you do the same, the sun making his unbelievably clear skin glow.
You nod, and he thrusts his hand in your direction.
“Min Yoongi.”
You give him your name and he smiles, eyes not leaving yours.
“So which gallery do you work for?”
“Euphoria Gallery.”
“In Seoul?”
“Yeah,” you respond, seeing a quizzical look appear on his face so you continue, “it opened a few weeks ago.”
“Ahhh,” his eyes widen a little in understanding, “I haven’t been to Seoul in over two months.”
It’s silent for a while and you think he might be done with his interrogation but obviously he isn’t.
“So what do you do there?”
You look at him again, a serious look on his face and you think you might answer a few more before you head back to the hotel.
“I’m actually the Marketing Manager.”
“Oh, so you’re actually more on the business side.”
“Guess you can say that.”
You pat your thighs then stand, carrying all your shopping bags in one hand while the other rummages through your purse for your phone.
“You’re staying at this hotel?”
You nod politely at the inquisitive man.
“Me too,” he springs up from the bench, the motion causing you to jump back a bit and drop a few of your bags.
He bends down to pick them up and you do the same, your fingers brushing each other, and you blush from the proximity, his woody scent surrounding you.
“Let me help you.”
“I’m fine.”
“These are heavy,” he hooks a few into his left hand and you watch his muscles flex as he stands up to his full height.
“Okay,” you shrug, letting him follow you back to the hotel but before you can head to the elevators, something catches your eye and you stop walking, the blond behind you huffing as he bumps into your back.
“I’m sorry, could you just wait for a minute.”
He nods, sitting down on the couches not too far away.
Poking your head around the corner, you see Jungkook with his side leaning on a counter, smile in place as he talks to a tall woman, she giggles and flicks her hair over her shoulder, swaying over the small space as he places his hand on her neck, fiddling with her necklace.
You swallow, feeling your throat constrict, tears blurring your vision. Backing away from the wall, the terrifying thought that this was all a mistake crosses your mind. Your back hits something warm and hard and you turn around to see the man from earlier, your shopping bags still in hand.
“Are you okay?”
You blink away the tears, smiling at him, “yeah uhm…”
You look up at him again; he’s damn good-looking, just your type and helpful. His job is even in the same field as yours. You aren’t going to hold back because of an asshole like Jungkook anymore, he can take his chance and stick it.
“I’m gonna take these up,” you struggle to take them in both your hands, “if you want, we can chat a little about the gallery.”
His eyebrows raise, gums being exposed as he smiles, “yeah sure sure. I’ll wait here for you.”
He sits down on the couch again and you smile, running your hand along his back as you make your way to the elevators, “see you in bit Yoongi.”
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You’re trying to focus on what Yoongi’s saying but your mind keeps taking you back to Jungkook and how you fell for him yet again, how you’re hurting yet again. You should’ve known that it won’t be easy for him to just ditch his shitty ways, you hold back a sob.
“So, I told him that I can’t take his offer because I’m actually starting a website-“
Yoongi seems interesting, but your eyes keep travelling to his arms down to the tips of his fingers. He has such pretty fingers to go with his muscular arms, Rolex moving with his hand as they track his words. It seems like you’re looking for anything to distract you from the dick that is Jungkook.
You lift your head to see Jungkook standing near the couches where you and Yoongi sit, he has one hand behind his back and you give him a clueless smile.
“Oh, hey Jungkook. This is Yoongi, he’s an art curator.” You let your knee brush against Yoongi’s, seeing Jungkook’s gaze follow the movement.
Yoongi stands to shake Jungkook’s hand, “nice to meet you Jungkook.”
Jungkook gives him a discerning look, then smiles and takes the seat next to him.
“So, you’re an art curator? Y/N here must’ve told you about the new gallery I’ve just opened.”
You roll your eyes at his subtle flex.
“I actually handle a website based on my job.”
Jungkook nods, “maybe you should visit us in Seoul…”
And just like that, Jungkook hijacks your conversation with Yoongi while you sit slack-jawed, both men completely disregarding you, Yoongi even turning his back to you as he talks to Jungkook. Jungkook even gets his number before you and soon, he’s waving goodbyes to the both of you, while you sulk.
Jungkook sighs, “good man. So, you wanna get lunch?”
“Fuck no.” Rushing to the elevators, you turn around to see Jungkook hot on your heels, pushing the elevator button like the side character in a horror movie, you curse when you feel Jungkook behind you.
“Running away from me, Y/N?”
The elevator dings and you walk in, he presses the button for your floor before you can.
“I saw you.”
“Saw me what?”
You look past him and into the elevator mirror, seeing him hold something under his coat, behind his back.
“Cut the crap, Jungkook. You only want to fuck me.”
“Y/N,” he sighs, “I told you this before-“
“I saw you with that lady, you were laughing with her and and touching her!” You feel the lump build in your throat again as you watch the look of surprise on his face.
After a few minutes, you reach your floor and he grips your wrist, dragging you to his room while you wriggle in his hold.
“Calm down, Y/N,” he yells over your cries, and you have no choice but to follow him in his strong hold, then you see he’s moved the thing that he’s been holding to his front, tucked into his coat. Fuck. What if it’s a gun and he plans on killing you.
He enters the code for his room and pulls you inside, tears painting your cheeks.
“The lady you saw,” he begins, kicking off his shoes then sitting on his bed as he produces a blue velvet box, about the size of a dinner plate, “she’s a jeweller, I called her here. She was showing me all different kinds, but none were to my liking but then I noticed the design that she was wearing and I liked it.”
He opens the box, revealing a white gold necklace, glinting in his bedroom light.
Pulling it out of the box, he holds it in his hands delicately as he walks over to you, standing behind you as he places it on your neck.
“It was for you, Y/N. And I meant it when I said that I changed.”
You’re speechless, looking down to admire the piece of jewellery with diamonds dotting the knots at the centre. Turning around to look at him, he has an exhausted look on his face, one that makes you feel guilty.
“It’s beautiful,” you can’t keep your eyes off of it.
“Beautiful jewelry for a beautiful woman like you,” he pinches your chin to lift your head up so you’re looking at him, seeing the exhausted look replaced by something fond.
“Things don’t buy my love,” you quip and he hangs his head to laugh.
“I know, but I was hoping that this could sort of be like a promise ring? In the form of a necklace? I’m not good with these things.”
“A promise ring?” You giggle, eyes softening at the way he rubs his neck, reminding you of the boy you fell in love with.
“Y/N I am sorry, but you have to trust me, please. I won’t hurt you again.”
You nod, “I’m sorry too. For not believing you.”
“You don’t ever have to be sorry, I fucked up,” he takes your hands in his, placing two sweet kisses on the backs of your hands.
Taking a step forward, your body presses to his as he reaches down to run an index finger down the side of your face, sending tingles up your spine.
Dipping his head, his minty breath fans across your face, making you lick your lips in anticipation. Finally, he closes the gap, pressing his lips to yours as his hands cradle your face. You place your palms on his chest, pushing him so the backs of his knees hit the bed, tumbling down with you on top of him.
Licking into his mouth, his hands travel down your back and to your ass, squeezing the flesh and making you moan into his mouth as his tongue slides along yours.
“I want you,” you pant, kissing up his neck and sucking the soft skin under his ear, remembering all the spots that gets him going.
He grips your hips, pressing you onto him so you can feel his throbbing member against your core.
“Jungkook,” you whine.
In one swift movement, he flips you over, ridding himself of his coat, shirt and pants while you work on removing your dress and bra.
Once he gets his eyes on your almost-naked body, he groans, his dick twitching in its confines as he takes in the swell of your breasts, greedily palming them as he bends down to take one of your erect nipples into his mouth, slurping noisily as he flicks his tongue, thumb rubbing over the other nipple, making you keen into his touch. They did get bigger.
Reaching down, you’re just as greedy as you palm him through his boxer briefs, humming against your nipple, making your back arch off the bed. With one last bite to your nipple that has you gripping his hair, he comes up to place a searing kiss on your lips, your body feeling hot as arousal pools between your legs.
“Jungkook,” you whisper against his lips, “need you.”
“Yeah?” He searches your eyes, almost urgently, “need me inside you?”
You nod, biting your lip at his words, “wanna cum around your cock.”
His eyebrows raise, “someone’s got a dirty mouth,” he licks a hot stripe up your throat to your lips, “I like it. Makes me want to fuck you senseless.”
You whine, trying to rub your thighs together for some friction but his body between your legs restricts any movement. His eyes flicker to the wet spot growing on your panties and he dips his hand down, rubbing you through the drenched material, hissing when he feels how wet you are.
“Fuck, you’re fucking soaked for me. Want my cock so bad hmm?”
You nod, the cool necklace around your neck digging into the warmth of your body.
“Let me hear how bad you want my cock,” he dips his hand into your panties, running two fingers along your folds then circling your clit, moving faster as each second passes.
You moan, gripping his shoulders as you rock against his hand, he chuckles as he watches your fucked out expression.
“I said let me hear you.”
He pushes two fingers into you at once, making you dig you nails into his skin as his fingers massage your walls, “hmmf wanna c-cum so b-bad around y-ah!”
He curls his fingers, hitting the exact spot that has you twitching under him, you open your eyes to see him smirking down at you.
“C’mon baby, tell me what you want,” he moves his fingers in and out, hooking them and rubbing the pads against that spot that has you a blubbering mess.
“Cock! Want your cock so bad!” You cry, moving your hips in tandem with him movements, the pressure building as you feel your high so close.
Gripping his wrist, you throw your head back and yell his name only for him to pull his fingers out, you whine at the loss, your high was so close.
You watch him pop his fingers into his mouth, groaning in pleasure, “you taste even better.”
“Jungkook, plea