#chapter 3: new blossoms | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

taegularities · 4 months

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colour me in: blooming | jjk (m)

Summary: You're the flower blossoming in Jungkook's living room, no matter how relentless the rain. And you're the sun he tirelessly orbits — warm as a home.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; hints of angst, fluff overload, suggestive ➳ warnings: full jk pov!, fluff fluff fluff, but also crying, bits of insecurities, mommy and daddy issues, their friendddsss <3, oc's favourite blanket smells like him <3, his feelings for her are consuming him in a gorgeous way 🥺, grocery shopping 🍏 and then a housewarming party, jk chocolate chip nips appreciation (oc pinches them lol), horniness, implied sex + implied boner, sexual tension, flirting and teasing and bickering, yearning, convos about their relationship/life, cooking together hehe, jk is so… jk, kissing/making out, the ending ♡ ➳ word count: 15.6k ➳ a/n: domesticity is my favourite city and i never wanna leave lol. i've genuinely been enjoying fluff more than i ever thought i would. this chapter made me so damn happy and i hope it has the same effect on you guys, too <3 let me know how you liked it; feedback is always appreciated 🥺 also, there are lil sub-headings to avoid confusion with the timeline!! enjoy!! 🤍 ➳ a/n2: even though i am a tiny bit late… happy birthday @jkaxl. love you so much, axelle <3 ➳ listen to: daylight by taylor swift (ty anon <3) | full collaborative playlist 🤍

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs

”Are you happy?”

“I’m… I’m adjusting to it all. It’s new. But so far I feel— relieved.”

“Okay.” He pauses. “I’m sorry I didn’t encourage that feeling earlier. But… you know. You found your way on your own, and somehow, I find that just as remarkable. If not so much more.”

“Thank you.”

Silence breaks the dialogue, but there are still shreds of unspoken words he’s not letting out yet. Right on the tip of his tongue, resting quietly; so you wait. Let your weary gaze slump to your lap, blinking until you hear a rustle and a—

“Do you want to come over sometime?”

You don’t know.

So you respond in just that uncertainty, “Maybe at some point? When it’s… not so overwhelming anymore.”

“I understand. Hey,” another break in his speech, “I’m proud of you.”

Your heart suspends for a fraction of a moment, but you feel the seething, searing pain. Fresh, clumping up your throat.

“…Thank you.”

THE SUNDAY AFTER THE PRESS CONFERENCE

When Jungkook locks the door, the apartment is quiet, but the living room light still glowing.

Still fired up and hot, the cool back of his hand pats his warm neck and cheek. Your name threatens to tumble off his tongue, but an oddly calm feeling advises against it. And as he carries his bag into the living room, setting it down next to a big flower pot you so wanted, he sees why.

Because you’re curled up on the couch, temple against the back of it, legs pulled in. Your favourite blanket — that you swear constantly smells like him — is draped half over you, falling off one of your shoulders.

You’re sound asleep.

Jungkook recognises the pout even from afar; lets his eyes drift from your face to the hand peeking out of the blanket. Brushing a piece of paper that is holding on for dear life, attempting not to slip off your lap.

What if he never moved? If he kept staring?

Back in college, one of his dearest professors used to say, “You know it’s art when even blinking feels like a waste of time. You don’t want to spend a second not looking at it.”

That very semester is still a major component of Jungkook’s memory. Ever since, he’s seen a handful and a dozen and a hundred pieces that matched the words once uttered.

Just, never as much as today.

The sky has obscured since he left two hours ago — he wonders how fast that time passed for you. Either way, he reckons you didn’t rest until your body forced you to. Because it’s not anywhere near bedtime; but the changes in your life constantly add to your exhaustion.

He wanted to help. He did all morning before you sent him away, arguing that, “You’re already doing too much. And you hate paperwork anyway!”

To which he expressed, “But I don’t hate you or having you here!”

“Just go!” You reached to his left nipple, poking it, and he, wearing a frisky smirk, instinctively threw a protective hand over it. “The muscles demand your attention desperately. Just don’t look at other girls’ butts, ‘kay?”

He chuckled.

You made it sound like a life-altering goodbye to a year-long journey instead of a brief trip to the gym. He nodded solemnly, nearly saluting as he agreed, “You’re right. Gonna make sure I’m able to crush you extra hard.”

But it seems you crushed and knocked yourself out well enough. And that after he sent out various emails with you, drafting and crafting a battle plan, googling salient issues and their solutions, and writing down lists of everything still left to do before you can actually move in.

The two of you are lucky the landlord is laid-back. Usually, they don’t let anyone move in so quickly; demand a couple months. And you’ll already be settling here officially the very next.

Not that it makes any difference.

You already spend your dusks and dawns here, clinging, reluctant to go home. And he won’t tell you to; he’d be a fool to. Plus, he hates his bed cold.

Jungkook’s steps are slow, muscles painful to the touch. He sweeps his tresses back as he nears your slumbering, balled up form, soon pressing a hand into the arm of the couch. Suppressing a groan, he leans in; frees your closed eye from a lock before he plants a kiss next to it.

You stir with the softest flutter of your eyelashes, just a teeny tiny bit.

God. You tilt his world off its axis.

“Baby,” he whispers.

It must be pulling you out of the remnants of your doze, because your muscles awaken, corners of your lips twitching. The movement of your legs finally pushes the paper off the blanket, and Jungkook hurries to catch it before it can drift to the floor; places it on the table.

He kneels; and for the briefest, smallest moments, you flinch when your pupils eventually align with his. Then, relaxation floods you anew, and you grip the blanket, sliding it back over you — only for it to glide down again.

You smile — a tired beam, accompanied by a sigh. Not quite wide, because you’re not fully there yet, but still so genuine. Stretching a little, you murmur, “You’re back.”

“And you’re still working,” he scolds, albeit cushioning his words by bringing a fingertip to your jaw. Flicking affectionately, softly. “Did you eat?”

“Mhmmm. But it’s—” Your hand taps for something, moving under the blanket; and a second later, you’re lighting up your phone, squinting at it. “It’s not late. Gonna eat with you again. I’m not that tired anymore.”

As if on cue, you yawn, tears of weariness collecting. You interrupt it with a gentle snicker and promise, “I mean it.”

The lopsided smile emerges on his features quickly. The drowsy, vulnerable tone in your voice caresses his heart like a gust… but the meaning behind it doesn’t pass by him so fast.

“Don’t overwork yourself, okay?” he repeats for the fifth time today alone; it’s become a constant habit. A reminder, like clockwork. “The body knows when you do.”

“No. I feel great.”

“Just. Be nice to yourself, munchkin.”

“I am,” you defend, attempting to stress the verb, but not quite getting there, “I am. Don’t worry so much.”

An impossible demand; but how would he explain it to you?

Despite the shake of his head, he still gives in, “Okay. I’ll shower and be back in a sec, yeah?”

He waits for your confirmation until you hum in unintelligible agreement, moving back in to plant a kiss on your forehead. Rushes to the shower, washes off today’s effort.

Wet hair strands pushed back, he finds you shuffling and organising the papers you read and filled in today, placing them neatly in the middle of the table. You look more awake now, delivering a content smile before heading to the kitchen with him.

Only, your mind might not be entirely unfogged yet — because your movements are slow. Different from how he handles the stir fry that the two of you cooked for lunch together.

You were proud of your creation — told Jungkook how you’re still far from the skills he possesses, but not bad to start with and improving every day. Seasoning better, understanding how to cut faster without hurting yourself in the process.

It’s lovely, watching the contentment spread in your eyes.

Yet, Jungkook always makes sure to stand close to your back, hands lifted, persistently ready to salvage the situation if need be.

But right now, judging from your clearly burdened brain, he bestowed a relatively simple task upon you. And you look so cute doing it — bun all messy, shoulders slumped, sporting (after stealing) his joggers since they’re so ridiculously comfortable, so get your own.

He side-eyes you every now and then, forbearing a chuckle; but when your lower lip juts in concentration, he can’t help but sling an arm around your waist. The jug containing the iced tea shakes, and you hold the glass carefully, voicing a little, “Oh— I… Kook.”

You’re wide-eyed and caught off guard; blinking when he tilts his head and leaves a kiss under your ear.

You raise your shoulder at the tickling sensation, and when you call his name again, your voice is reprimanding. But he could pick out the endearment even in his sleep.

That’s how it goes every hour of the day; sweet and new ever since you started frequenting his place even more often than before.

Something has occurred since the press conference. Two days only — but the universe has changed. Maybe it has expanded faster than ever and birthed a couple billion more stars, made even the nights brighter. He doesn’t know.

All he does recognise is that unnamed, newfound feeling spreading in his chest, and he’s been unblurring it. Bit by bit. Letting it take on a form that will soon consume him. He’s sure.

And soon, there’ll be a fitting word and definition matching this phenomenon, too.

It’s triggered by even the smallest things.

Like by the sound of your steps when you walk through the apartment. Or by the way you hum your favourite song all the time, unconsciously; then singing the line you hold dearest to your heart before resuming to the hum.

Trust in me when I say…

Or even… by how you’re facing him an hour later, satiated and cross-legged on the bed as you finish up today’s work.

You’ll have to notify the bank and whatnot of your move soon, so you need to brainstorm the relevant institutions that the new address and information will go to. It shouldn’t take too long; you’re diligent, so you’ll just be noting down all numbers next to the places you need to contact and then crash.

Jungkook soon takes over that task, lips moving as he reads the words, writes them down. And amidst the end-of-the-day chore, you crane your neck to read, and tell him, “You have such pretty handwriting.”

“So do you. I didn’t know you made circles over your lower case I’s,” he looks closer to where you scribbled, tapping the pen against a letter, “and awwh. The curves of the T’s!”

You giggle before you add, “I’ve heard a pretty handwriting symbolises inner beauty, by the way.”

“Ohh, so we’re both beautiful.”

“No doubt. We need to take more pictures… we look great together.”

That’s what’s been filling the hours of these days, too, Jungkook supposes. The airy, light atmosphere within the four walls he’s come to share with you. Laughter and shared glances, despite the stack awaiting you — because it signifies far more than paperwork.

Which is why it surprises him when a subtle switch occurs, suddenly and unannounced.

When he looks at your fingers lifting a paper, he can’t say what you’re seeing, but your ardour falters a little. Crooning dying, expression not matching the smile on the pictures you spoke of.

Delicately, you trace the edges of the document before putting it back down, aligning it with the rest of the pile. Pushing the whole thing to the side, you sigh, and he, a silent observer up to this moment, asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Hm?”

“You’re thinking about something. And I don’t like it when you’re quiet like this.”

“Oh… It’s nothing.” The shrug is subtle and unconvincing, and the tight shutting of your lips so telling to him. He senses the tension before you finally reveal, “Dad called today. And…” He waits; another shrug. “It’s nothing. He just asked how I was holding up. And that he’s sorry things had to escalate on Friday.”

Ah. Odd.

Jungkook would never say it to you: Because he has never been one to talk families down, sever a bond by voicing his opinion, even if the relationship’s already hanging by a thread. No… he’d never say it to you.

But.

There’s a dull realisation in the back of his mind; and it evokes quiet anger in him. That… there was always a potential anchor inhabiting the same house as you, but never serving as one.

Hidden behind your mother’s back, letting it all pass — probably for you to build character.

Jungkook has always assumed that his dad did just that, too. Throwing him into the world without support, letting a seemingly irresponsible teenager, and then young adult, experience hardships in order to learn how to deal with them.

In contrast to your father, his dad wouldn’t apologise to him… yet, in the end, morally and emotionally, both your families fucked up big time.

“Oh…”

You nod, elaborating, “He wanted to know if I was going to visit him. But I need a bit of time.”

Right… thinking about it, you haven’t seen your father in a while. And your mother hasn’t blown up your phone since Friday evening — when you came out of the glass building, with equally glassy yet hopeful eyes.

You truly must have let off steam in there for her to back away.

“Is that why you were saying you’ll be rushing to the house after work?”

Because as far as he recalls, you’ve been talking about gathering your stuff immediately after working hours — or on Saturday mornings. Never any other time. Because you know they won’t be at home then.

“Yeah,” you confirm, “I feel horrible neglecting him like that, because he seems to be glad that I’m happy, but…”

Your lips point downward; you clear your throat, but it doesn’t hide the tremble in your voice, “I just wish he’d defended me sometimes. Dunno. Maybe he did and I just don’t know about it? And it never worked? It’s what I like to think.”

God…

“Because,” you continue your vent, “he was strict but not like her, and… Sometimes he did recognise bullshit when he saw it. I’d hear them talk and he wouldn’t always see eye to eye with her. But a bit more open support would’ve been cool, you know?”

Shit, how it angers Jungkook.

The knot in your throat; how you avert his gaze; the looming tears. It all angers him.

He moves his hand to your knee, keeping his voice and heart steady for you. Simply uttering, “Baby…”

“And… and then today he suddenly seemed… I don’t know.” You take a deep breath, shaking your head. Your blinking fastens, and you vehemently dodge Jungkook’s eyes. “I dunno how casually he said it, but he told me he was proud.”

The way you emphasise the word… as if it’s a stranger to you, like you’re trying it out…

Jungkook sighs, heart and chest heavy, muttering so kindly—

“Oh, sweetheart… Ah, come here—”

His palm shoves the papers aside some more, uncaring, and brings you closer to his body. Yearning for your embrace, he shifts with you until your legs wrap around each other. Fingers slither to your chin to raise it, and then pinch your cheek adoringly.

The bedroom light falls into your sparkling eyes, shiny with the dampness. You’re not crying, but you sniffle for a moment.

“Of course he is,” he whispers, keeping your face upright, “what’s there not to be proud of? You’re so fucking cool.”

“…You think?”

“Of course I do,” he repeats, “you’re so inspiring and smart and funny and awesome. I’m the proudest of you, in fact.”

The heat increases beneath his palms as your cheek smoulders, pupils promptly softening. As if the outline of your irises is blurring, relinquishing the harder, unwanted emotions.

“I could probably live with just that,” you respond, managing a tender laugh and mixing it with your sniffles. “But…”

But perhaps, the heavy heart won’t get entirely lighter just yet. And Jungkook’s turns half blue at the same time as yours.

“I wish my mom could react the same way instead of being so… stubborn. I mean, it’s a good thing that I want to stand on my own two feet! And aside from work — she also saw me in the summer, and she knew how I felt without you. She sees how I feel now with you, too, and yet.”

You puff out some air, as if you’d been dying to rant; and he imitates the release of a quiet breath, but for wholly other reasons.

Because…

Along with the melancholy drenching your voice, the guilt shoots an arrow to his heart. Guilty about this damn summer; about the days he nearly gave up on you. If he could encase your fractured soul in a quick cure…

“I’m sorry she keeps hurting you, baby. And… I’m sorry you cried. Being sad over a loser like me was the last thing you needed, so…”

He’s half joking; lifting the corner of his lips. You seem to know, too, because you match his smile — still pledging, “Being sad sucked, but… you’re right here now and. I do need you.”

It’s so easy for you to tinge his entire being in a bright pink. Because somewhere in the depths of his mind, he admits that he wanted to hear this. That he wants you to need him as much as he needs you.

“And I’m right here to stay,” he promises. “Even if she doesn’t. Okay?”

“Yeah… yeah. But maybe someday she can be proud, too.”

It’s fucking you up more than he thought. Probably more than you thought.

“I’m sure,” he guarantees, “some people accept their mindsets as the only truth, angel, but one day she’ll come around.” You only nod. So he adds, “I’ll fix this with you.”

“Fix it?”

“The issues you deal with. And the ones I deal with. You and I together, okay?”

Your motions are slow. The nod is barely one; maybe because his hands refuse to establish yet another distance to your skin. And maybe because you’ve tired yourself out once and for all. The slight slouch is telling; your body needs some rest.

Enough with the papers.

“You know… somehow, this excites me,” he says. The grin emerging confuses you for a while; the flicker in your eyes is as delightful as the moment. “Pulling out all the stops and making things better with you, I mean. I wouldn’t wanna do it with anyone else.”

And he’d know. Because if he’d been comfortable enough, he would’ve long ago; he had the chance to. Yet, the courage never surfaced — until with you.

His touch drops from your face to the side of your neck, shaking you gently before he says, “You excite me all the time.”

Shouldn’t be news to you — bearing his unceasing kisses and everlasting words in mind, his bliss is difficult to miss. There’s barely any containing it around you.

And maybe you know what he means; because judging from your dreamy smile, you can’t seem to muster any self-control either. Feeling the joy bubbling, growing, simmering in the middle of your stomach until it explodes and you—

Wrap your arms around his neck abruptly. Attacking him until balance abandons him, falling back onto the bed before you land on top of him. The hug is crushing, your body pushing into his with every sliver of fondness you can summon.

He could say something. Blurt more admissions dipped in honey. But he doesn’t question it; doesn’t comment on it. Only relishes the silence and your warm cheek against his chest, cuddling in.

And sighs in contentment.

A WEEK LATER

You’re messing up the structured system he established for himself.

The groceries are scattered in the cart; instead of playing Tetris with them, as he usually does, you’re piling them up randomly, unaware of the mess.

Jungkook doesn’t have the heart to tell you that the pack of eggs isn’t supposed to be balancing on top of other products like this. Because holy shit, you are buzzing. Not because you don’t know how to grocery shop, but because of the conversation this morning.

”I've got a whole list in my head. We’ll need a shit ton to make this work tonight.”

You were taming your hair as you listened; watching your reflection follow your movements — and as he readied himself for the day, Jungkook watched from afar.

You’d decided that for now, a week was enough to mourn the loss of whatever familial bonds could’ve been. Just last night you told him that starting this new life means an opportunity to gradually leave your sorrow behind, even if it takes some time.

And in celebration of the new arc you’re so joyfully approaching, you’d decided to host a housewarming of some sorts.

Jungkook’s friends already know his place; but the pronoun has changed. This time, you want them to step into your apartment, too.

Securing a hair strand with a clip, you asked, “Do we have it all here?”

“Not everything. Gotta go grocery shopping later.”

“Ohhh…”

Your fingers floated to the edge of the wash basin. You held it in your grip, leaning over it a little, staring into your own eyes quietly. He checked with another step closer to the bathroom, glimpsing at the expression in the mirror.

Calm, but thinking.

“What is it?” he asked, pulling his jeans’ zipper close.

“Uhh. Do you need help?”

“You should rest. You’re already doing so m—”

“No, no, I mean…” You let the sink go, folding your fingers. Inhaling for just a moment when your eyes fell on his bare torso. “I want to go grocery shopping with you. It’s Saturday and I have nothing to do until tonight. So… Please don’t go without me?”

The big eyes and saccharine question went straight to his heart; like one of Cupid’s pointy, sharp arrows targeting the exact middle of the organ. What else could he have done other than breaking into a breathy laugh — wide grin building a lively start to the morning.

“Of course. I’ll wait until you’re ready then.”

You raised a triumphant, tight fist, and he shook his head in delight. Diminished the distance between your bodies, a hand pressing into the back of your head before pulling you to his lips and placing a kiss to your forehead. Right before—

“Hey— ouch?”

It didn’t hurt; but he still felt the fingers pinching his tiny nipples — and heard your cheeky, “Why are they always hard? And why are you always shirtless, Jeon?”

He didn’t argue that changing into outdoor clothes didn’t count. Instead, the bright golden light you cast in his mind distracted him, taking him back.

You’d said that to him before; everything has changed since then.

“Why are you smiling like this?” you ask, holding a pack of four yellow apples in one hand, red ones in the other.

“Hm?” Jungkook rubs a hand over his cheek, feeling the glee in his countenance before flattening the dimples. “It’s nothing. I’m just liking how much fun you’re having.”

“I am! But most of all because I can’t wait to cook with you today.”

Your words instantly conjure pictures of a potential evening; idyllic ones mixing with utter chaos. Rushing and cutting and serving — but for one of the very first times together. Only milestones ahead.

A higher pitched gushing threatens to fall out of Jungkook, right here in the fruit aisle. But instead, you raise your hands again, asking, “Which ones?”

“Hmmm… neither. Let’s get the green ones.”

You let your arms fall, a finger pointing towards him, and say, “Ohhh. Good call.”

And then you proceed to complicate the cart labyrinth again. What a savagery. Jungkook waits until you’ve turned around and works on reorganising again, following his system. Then, he thinks — this could be draining, but it’s not.

Because you keep each other entertained. And neither of you bothers about the gapes you receive.

Not when he leans over the cart, shoving it in teeny tiny steps; continuing when he realises it makes you laugh.

Or, when you cheer once you find something the two of you like that nobody else enjoys; accompanied by exclaimed Ohhhhs and Haaas. And not as you argue when you find something to disagree about.

It seems that you do not dig dates, and he, the friendly omnivore, takes playful offence in that. He teases you across half the supermarket until you turn the tables, picking up an eggplant and interrupting him with a,

“Look! This is you.”

The roll of his eyes only veils his amusement a little, he’s sure. Because your enthusiasm remains steady, including the impish pull of his beige Supreme beanie over his eyes and a kiss to his cheek that paints the spot in a rosy dust.

Pointing to a glass of honey, Jungkook soon fights back, “And this is you.”

“…This is way too sweet and I do not know how to counter it.”

“Romance tends to make people speechless, darling.”

Your expression resembles an ellipsis; whether you’re out of answers or overwhelmingly affected by the selection of his words, he doesn’t know. He knows he’d short circuit if you ever said that to him.

“Fair,” is what you settle on, though, “wouldn’t I know what brain outages your romantic ass causes.”

You’re the model definition of a cheesy, movie-esque couple. Taehyung and Eun differ from the nature the two of you showcase; they already threatened to bring paper bags in case Jungkook and you overdo it tonight.

Can’t blame them. The world is certainly pink-tinted when you bicker and jest at the register; or when you hurry through an Ikea — courtesy of your last minute plan to buy plants — to make it home and cook in time.

Just this morning, you were daydreaming about the concept of furniture retailers and how such shops allow building a home with the most special person.

And then, as if wanting to clarify your sentiments, you turned in the car, facing him as you struggled with the belt, just to say, “Which is you for me. I’m building a home with you.”

Jungkook’s legs still melt into a puddle whenever he remembers the softness in your words, and the puppy gaze you threw as you finally leaned back in your seat.

Which is why it’s such a shame that the clock is ticking so relentlessly.

Because your initial elation turns into disapproval only for today as you wade through the labyrinthine, time-consuming design the store is so popular for. Trying to keep up with Jungkook’s pace and hastening across the rooms.

And even then, neither of your laughter ceases; you turn the most stressful situations into deep solace. The pressure soon gives way to a calm satisfaction the moment your apartment door opens.

You set up the few plants you brought; some under the window, some on the desk in the bedroom, right next to the Beauty and the Beast rose, and a jade plant in the living room. For good luck, you said.

And then, after resting for five minutes and abandoning all further breaks, you start work in the kitchen. Which proves as cooperative as he thought — that is, until you get into a friendly argument about whether to do the dishes now or later.

“One of us keeps cooking. The other washes up what we don’t need anymore,” Jungkook explains, repeating it over and over.

To which you keep defending, “Or. One cooks one dish. The other handles the second. And we finish cooking faster and then do the dishes together.”

His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, and he whines, “It won’t make much of a difference!”

“Well, if it doesn’t, then we could do either!”

“BUT… it might get crowded if we work at the stove at the same time, babe—”

“You just don’t trust me with th—”

“Keep yelling at me like that, and—” Jungkook interjects, and you wince a tiny bit; but he continues a mere, barely lasting moment later, “and I swear I’ll kiss you.”

Beat of silence. Your eyebrows are still furrowed. And then, amidst the agitation, you erupt into laughter. Blend it with the chortle he can’t suppress, either.

To Jungkook, the sound is akin to a song — and he could spin the record all day long.

Spoiler warning — you do not kiss. But the lively chuckles and free-spirited conversations dye the atmosphere and flavour it. Its sweetness feels like a feathery kiss, too.

And whether it’s that very unlimited sense of familiarity, gradually growing, or your unwavering teamwork at last — you’re surprised when the late afternoon transforms into an early evening, a dimly blue, cloudy sky already changing into different shades of grey.

Time passed fast; but the hour-hand on the clock still hasn’t quite moved to where you’re waiting for it to settle. Because back in the living room, you’re still an hour early. Your guests are invited for around six, but you can’t say when they’ll actually show up.

Seems you wrapped up work at a convenient time. Better now than late.

You kiss your teeth in the middle of the room, scanning it for something to do. It’s clean; pretty. Plants set up, table wiped, cushions neatly set on the couch. So you remark, “We were so stressed, I didn’t think we’d be finished already.”

Jungkook, already plummeting onto the far end of the couch, pats the spot next to him, saying, “That’s good. Gives us a bit of time to relax. Anything you wanna do?”

But you don’t sit down yet. You watch your manspreading boyfriend lean back, big inked hand wrapping around the remote control. You look at the open button of his shirt, and the singular hair strands; the side parting. The mole under his lips and the big eyes.

He just doesn’t notice it until the lack of a response continues.

“Huh?” he voices again, finger stopping over the power button before his eyes flit back to you.

You look deep in emotions and distracted; if he could guess, then even… ferociously yearning. He waits with a dancing heart until you admit boldly, “There’s plenty I can think of that I wanna do right now.”

You fold your hands behind your back, chest out a little, legs crossing. You curl your lower lip in, nibbling at it. It affects him, and you know. He sucks in air, a hand on his thigh. Blinking at you, and then poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

He leaves out a puff of a tiny laugh, shaking his head a bit. Nearly succumbing to the thought that…

Perhaps there’s an activity you can indulge in before they come, right—

Wrong.

Jungkook, no matter how tempted, throws another glance at the clock, and argues, “Stop thinking of eggplants. They’ll probably be here soon, so your smooth-talking is not allowed to work!”

Your body relaxes, back in its prior position; you pout for a second. “Fine. Then I’ll get dressed before anything else.”

Jungkook sighs in relief — close. Way too close. Tonight might just stretch his jeans if you keep this up; his blood is already abandoning his brain and putting its attention elsewhere.

But you’re well-mannered in the company of guests, right?

Only one way to find out — an hour to go.

Jungkook heaves his body off the couch merely ten minutes later.

And maybe even that was too early.

Maybe he should’ve waited for you to trudge out of the bedroom; or should’ve gotten his clothes and changed somewhere else. Because when he follows your steps to find a new attire for himself, too, you’re sitting at the very edge of the bed, dress already on.

It’s not too posh; rather casual. A green cotton one, pulled up to your hip because you’re dragging transparent tights over your legs. A patch of your thighs is still visible; part of your ass on display where your panties don’t reach. Skin far too empty without his kiss on it.

He doesn’t know how you do it; but within a moment, you elicit a plethora of emotions in him. Burning desire; comfortable warmth; cosy affection. You look so cuddled in in that autumn dress.

Pretty. So gorgeous; you’ll drive him insane.

But the craze doesn’t manifest in hunger this time, but gathers in a single breath, let out in a sigh. Which… makes you recoil. Your hand briefly bolts to your chest, eyes rolling, head shaking. You murmur a quiet, “Babe…” before resuming the task.

Jungkook watches as you lift your body to pull your tights over your ass and the dress back into place, and then reaches out a palm to you; urging yours to settle in it.

Still trapped in a cube of daydreams, he tugs you in until your grace radiates toward him, and then tells you—

“My baby is the prettiest ever. Ever, ever.”

You take his fawning with glowing cheeks, smile so unbelievably worth being alive as you answer, “Your baby isn’t sure if she deserves this so suddenly, but… thankful either way.”

Your voice is an endearing mix of soft and enthusiastic. The combination that breathes life into a room. You’re so…

“God,” he says, squeezing your hand, lifting his other fingers to touch the hem of your dress. Fixing it albeit already perfectly sitting. Then looks up; eyes dropping to your lips. “Maybe you were right. Want to kiss you stupid right now.”

And he would; he wouldn’t hesitate if you didn’t move a palm to his face, pressing a thumb to his plush mouth. Telling him, “Nope, too late. The make up wasn’t easy to do. And dark lipstick is hard to remove.”

Fuck, not when he’s kissing it off…

“I…” Gulp. “Fine, princess.” He removes your hand from his face, towing you back into the living room. “Then, what do we do now? Movie?”

“Nah… It’s so hard to stop watching. Gonna kick them out again if we start now. What about… hm.”

Your eyes dart across the room, and Jungkook takes the moment to suggest, “Or we could have some soju already? Or wine, beer, whatever?”

“Or…”

You wait. Jungkook follows your gaze to the back of the room, surprised when it falls on a peeking canvas behind another big plant pot. Oh — that’s still there. He never took it out, and neither did you. Protecting his privacy, probably.

But perhaps it’s lighting a bulb over your head, because you soon ask, “Or. Wanna give me a house tour?”

“A house tour? Don’t you know every corner already?”

“Yeah but,” you shrug, rounding the couch with him in tow, “I wasn’t always here. You organised the place the way you wanted to when you moved in, so you’d know it better. Like…” You point to the turned painting, “What’s that?”

“That’s… Remember the drawing I had in my notebook? Of Gureum?”

Quite a while ago. You visited him for the first time in Namjoon’s studio back then; recalled it at the exhibit, too. Crazy how sentiments have changed. From a silly play-pretend game to damaged souls to this…

You nod.

“Yeah so,” he continues, “I painted him on a bigger surface.”

Your eyes shoot open, genuine interest in them. “Oh? Can I see?”

“Of course.”

It’s not his best work, honestly; but it is close to his heart. A piece he still wants to improve and feature in his own exhibit once it rolls around. The colouring process will be interesting; it’s barely an outline yet.

But you seem to perceive it with utter fascination and sheer joy. Because the moment Jungkook heaves the canvas up, turning it for you to see, your chin drops. You gasp, mumbling under your breath, “You’re kidding!”

“…Do you like it?”

“It’s so cute! This is…” You lean in, taking in every detail; commenting on it. “He’s a fluffball! Oh my god, the tongue peeking out. He looks so happy.” When you look up into his eyes, Jungkook’s heart does a thing; and his cheeks the other thing. “You painted him from memory?”

“Mmh, maybe a couple details? But I got most of him from a picture my aunt sent me a while ago. He’s been looking much older these days and I wanted to capture him before he ages even more. Made me miss him so much.”

“Awwh, Kook…” You pout. “I really want to meet him one day.”

He looks at you with something knowing and so telling in his gaze; he feels it unveil through his own stare. The knowledge he possesses about something, and that you don’t.

You might notice hints of it, but you don’t question it. Listening when he responds, “You will. He really is a fluffball and remembers me even after months and years of distance.”

“I love him already.” You lift, straightening your back. Watching as Jungkook sets the painting back before you add, “Okay. House tour. What else?”

“Hmm. Let’s see. Come.” He leads you the short way to the cupboard, and you follow in tiny steps, like an explorer running from one treasure to another. So exhilirated. So fucking cute. “Look, these— and don’t laugh, these are precious to me.”

“Laugh?”

“…These,” he opens the cupboard doors, reaching to the far back, behind some decoration; and pulls out a deck of cards. “Are my Yu-Gi-Oh cards. I used to collect them long ago, but I’m never throwing them away. Also—”

Your lips are parted, your eyes focused. Eyebrows shooting up gently, delighted when he takes out another small object from the back.

“My Jiraiya figure that I got for my tenth birthday.”

“Holy shit… I really never bothered looking in hidden corners.” Yeah… but now that you are, you’re making this place your own, too. No, it already is yours, the way he is. He swoons at the thought. “This is so cool. Why would I laugh?!”

“Ah… Were you a Naruto fan?”

You tilt your head. “A little. More into Detective Conan, though.”

Jungkook wonders… How foolish might his smile be looking right now?

“You… keep surprising me, angel,” he says — and you seem to like the praise.

Because you light up, forefinger touching his chest as you reiterate, “See? The house tour wasn’t a bad idea at all! Look at us tracking back the path of our souls, too.”

Jungkook can’t help but chuckle. You’re a breath of fresh air to be around; so incredibly tender when you’re yourself. After all those weeks, you’re finally back to who he used to know. Not as sad anymore.

Never sick of the hand-holding, he grips your palm again, voice hushed when he orders, “Follow me, quick!” The mysterious journey leads you to the closet next; back to the quiet bedroom as he playfully shushes you. “I haven’t worn them in a long time, so you won’t know, but… Look, because the secret's out.”

You crane your neck to see what he’s referring to. And when you do, you coo and laugh straight away. Endlessly enraptured when he claims, “Wahh. They were my super-favourites.”

Iron Man socks. Obviously worn a hundred times; so, so him.

His bunny teeth flash in all their glory when he smiles, dimples out and corners of his eyes crinkly. He feels you hold his hand tighter, and you pick the most supportive tone when you say, “You need to start wearing them again! It’s so sweet when you’re geeky.”

“Maybe you’re right.” He stuffs them back, though not to the very bottom anymore; places them on top for easy access. And then, he continues, “Okay. One more thing for the glorious house tour, and we’re done. It’s another important sight, actually.”

“Ah. Oh?”

Barely a couple seconds later, you’re back to where the trip started. Following suit when he kneels near the table; swift beam spreading over your face when he clears his throat and narrates, “This… Is where I painted on you. Not on another medium, but I painted on you. Remember?”

You must. He rarely abandons paper and his usual colours like that; but you were the most marvellous masterpiece he ever covered. The most outstanding canvas he’s ever drawn on…

“I do.”

Your gaze falls sideways; are you remembering the same heart on your waist that he does? And how he touched it; smeared it under the shower water. How your back pressed into his chest, unknown what feelings you truly harboured, but never failing to showcase his own care to you.

The kisses on your shoulder. The whispers in your ears. The plea for you to stay.

“Of course I do. It was so calming,” you add, “and so beautiful.” You touch the soft carpet, plucking at its tiny fibres. “You consider it a sight at Jeon manor?”

He snickers at your choice of words, but then inhales, and very sternly says, “Yeah. We also had sex here, so it’s forever tainted. I remember it felt… like… we should do it ag—”

“Now it’s you saying these things!” You move a fist to his bicep, pushing against it lightly. “Be serious. Be romantic! It’s not the time to make me want you.”

“Oof, hey… For the record, I was being romantic! And also, I only want you more when you’re being sweet,” he rubs the spot you grazed; he barely felt it, “but seriously. I still remember everything I felt for you. And how crazy you drove me… and how vulnerable you were.”

You’re still stroking the fur of the carpet as you look into his eyes; and he sees a molten puddle in yours. Only one side of your lips lifts, but the softness in your voice is genuine, “I think I still am. Just a lot safer than before.”

“…Good. Me too.”

And that’s all.

That’s all his mind comes up with, because all the words and infatuation are locked in his heart, moving to his fingertips when he inches closer. He raises them to your chin. Knees near yours and close the yawning distance until your lips are a whisker away.

Funny — how his strong chest holds a feeble heart. Bursting and aching, full and yearning.

If he could, he’d stay here with you forever, just like that.

But. The two of you have a party to host.

And the suddenly ringing phone reminds you of it. Makes you flinch until your noses and foreheads touch, and you laugh, rubbing them as you tap the couch for the device. The two of you lean against the sofa, cosy on the carpet as you pick up.

He hears Eun’s voice announce through the phone, “We’re all here. Just a warning, because you better not be naked.”

You shoot a glance toward Jungkook. He snorts, and you start, “Why would we…”

“‘Cause we’re early for once. Taehyung didn’t need as much time with his hair today. So be prepared.”

Jungkook nods in confirmation. Taehyung usually needs to be told an earlier time when invited to an event or get-together.

There are sounds in the background, and he readies himself to register another voice. But not a second later, the doorbell chimes. Guess the two of you will have to wait with the bare devotion.

Because for now, it’s time to indulge the gang. Let them stream in with vibrant greetings, wrapped gifts, endless booze and sweets as irresistible as you.

Jimin is the only guest coming in a little later, rushing straight from his shift. And Jungkook recognises quickly that he’s not Jimin’s first pick for conversation after a timid handshake and parting of ways.

There’s no enmity between them; Jungkook reckons it’s more the awkwardness from the Blue Night still lingering between Jimin and him. Maybe even some leftover guilt about how he used to perceive the younger man.

At least, it’s strange when he, eventually, does take a seat on the couch, separated from Jungkook only by a healing Yoongi. You’re busy talking to Eun, and Taehyung has escaped to the bathroom. Yoongi maintains a healthy atmosphere with casual talks and soft jokes.

But even if somewhat reluctantly, it seems that Jimin is at least trying when he leans back on the couch, enabling a better view to Jungkook as he asks, “Did you paint that one?”

Jungkook follows the finger pointing at the wall next to the window; nothing too out of the ordinary. Just colourful flowers. It’s okay. Better this than nothing to warm up to each other.

Turning on the couch, Jungkook waves a hand in denial as he explains, “Ah, no, no. She bought it because she thought it’s cute.”

“But you could paint that, too,” Yoongi argues, followed by Jungkook’s shy, “I guess.”

“Ohh, okay, okay. Well, since we’re talking about it. Even if you didn’t paint it,” Jimin says, “been wanting to tell you that I loved your exhibit stuff. Uhm, Eun showed me pictures. Hope that’s okay.”

That’s surprising. Jungkook considers himself gifted in this sense, but— having someone actually boast about his work for him makes him feel… accomplished? Appreciated.

No wonder you hold your friends in such high regard.

“Yeah! Of course. Thank you, Jimin.”

“It’s a pretty place, by the way.”

Yoongi wiggles a finger back and forth with an agreeing nod, snacking away, a quiet listener for the time being. There’s something amusing about it; makes Jungkook smile as he tells Jimin, “Thanks. And I’m glad you could come. Can imagine work’s a lot, so…”

“Yeah. No worries. Everything for our girl.”

Jungkook hums as the chat dies and the awkwardness returns. And then, he remembers—

Speaking of — where are you again? Still in the kitchen? Seems so. Or at least, moving away from it bit by bit.

Immersed in a conversation, holding the frame of the living room door, at the threshold to the anteroom. You’re discussing something with Eun, your expression focused. He can’t really make out your words because of those exchanged between Jimin and Yoongi, but…

A moment later, you do look at him. And then away again immediately — as if he caught you. A motion of your hand waves whatever cryptic topic off; and intrigued, Jungkook comes to a stand.

In vain — because Taehyung returns the same moment, babbling about whatever Yoongi just said. And you use the opportunity to march into the room, asking Jungkook to help you set the table for dinner.

To his chagrin, most of them offer to help momentarily. Taehyung swarms around you, insisting on plating, making it impossible for Jungkook to find a moment to ask what your conversation was about. And eventually, he gives up — if it’s important, you’ll tell him.

So for now, he relishes the evening your friends grant the two of you. They compliment the food, narrate short and long stories, watching Jungkook and you unwrap the gifts — board games from Jimin, cutting boards and wine from Yoongi, a stylish, modern thermostat from Taehyung and Eun.

The ecstasy overflows, the screeches probably making your neighbours think of you unhinged. Wine spills on the table; curses exchange; laughing turns into crying.

If anything other than this life is considered good, then Jungkook doesn’t crave that goodness. The unbridled chuckles, and your never-dropping smile are beyond everything twinkling and gorgeous already.

And he’s happy, too. Elated when you cover your mouth when you laugh; and overjoyed when you stand at the window after dinner, leaning forward. Breathing in the autumn air.

Jungkook follows once things wind down and the guests agree upon an appropriate volume. He mimics your stance, lower arms on the windowsill and hands hanging relaxed.

His fingers graze the withering flowers in the window box. They’re slowly dying by the hands of the approaching cold, and the rain keeps overwatering them. Yet… they still let it hurt them, holding on for as long as possible.

So in love with the shower.

It’s almost a bit tragic.

Jungkook refocuses, turning to you and asks, “What are you doing?”

Your head moves to the side, and you kill the remaining distance between you. Step close until you’re nearly nudging his elbow.

“Just,” you nod into a haphazard direction; into the outside world, “looking at the rain. Got a bit stifling in there.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook throws a glance over his shoulder. “Also, I think they’re getting drunk.”

“Mhmmm. Except Jimin. Poor him is looking at the alcohol so longingly. Did you notice that he didn’t drink?”

“Someone has to drive them home, and Yoongi with his healing injury is out. I offered, but Jimin insisted on taking care of them and not, as he said, bothering us. Super thoughtful, really.”

You smile, nodding along before you silence. He doesn’t know what you’re thinking of; or what you’re seeing. Maybe you’re truly only revelling in the rain; contrasting it with the sunshine you radiate.

Maybe he should look for a rainbow somewhere.

In the midst of the tranquil evening, your gape strays from the drizzle with a blink. It descends to his twirling thumbs, and then moves along the length of his arm. Jungkook notices your attention from the side, but only turns to look at you when he realises what you’ve fixated on.

You gesture towards the hues and outlines on his skin, delicately touching the writhing snake as you say, “Want a tour for them, too, if you’d ever allow. I imagine it could be fun.”

“Tattoo tracing?” His lips move into an endeared smile; you look so fascinated. Like you’re seeing them for the first time. “I’d be down. I could even…” His fingers journey to yours, gently leading them to the flowers. “I can even give you a sneak peek.”

“Really?”

“Sure. Look.” He guides your touch over the dazzling orange of his tiger lily. “This is me. Tiger lilies beg for love. I’ve always sought love, too.”

Your eyes change. He knows you see it, too — the urge to never be abandoned again, all the time.

He can nearly see your heart ache. And feels his own thump a thousand miles a second. A fraction of it breaks off and jumps into your chest, making it yours; it does it all the damn time until you hold the entirety of it in the palm of your hands.

Unhurried, he steers your finger further, stopping at the blue tint; clearly hears you draw a breath when he tells you, “And this… This is my girlfriend. She’s even prettier in real life… that’s right.”

For a bit, you’re speechless. Jungkook keeps admiring you in the forget-me-nots for another second, and when you don’t speak on, he meets your eyes. You’re shaking your head, and then — slowly wrapping an arm around his, moving close, head on his shoulder.

From this angle, your cheeks are demanding to be squeezed; eyelashes kiss them softly, your lips tempting curves when you laugh. Jungkook doesn’t get enough of you… and you don’t want to make it easier for him either.

Because, “Shit,” you say, “you were right about pining more when someone’s being romantic. ‘Cause you’re making me want you so bad, in every way. Are you… still up for kissing me stupid?”

“Ahh… babe.”

“I just… You excite me, too, you know?”

“Don’t say these things while they’re here, baby,” he warns, although as tenderly as anyhow possible, “you’ll give me a heart attack, I mean it.”

“Now you know how I feel all the time!” you tease, fingers flicking raindrops into his face out of nowhere.

Jungkook recoils and squirms, taken aback, but it takes him a mere second to play along. He gathers rain in his palms, threatening to toss it into your face; bickering chaos at the open living room window until your damp hands rejoin and delicate digits interlace.

And as he looks at the sad flowers again, the reality of the moment makes him think. How the two of you used to resemble the blossoms in your window box, once enduring the incessant melancholy, too.

Much like the flowers towards the downpour, Jungkook and you reached for each other while being watered by gloom — but unlike the flowers, you’re still sprouting and thriving into something vivid and fragrant. Not beaten by the agonising shower.

The rain hurt me, but I wanted to keep fighting. Because I hoped. Because I adored.

And in the end, him and you aren’t tragic like them. You will never wither — only bloom.

An hour later, the apartment is empty.

You opened all the windows to eliminate the suffocating air; and the hot water running in the sink soothes your cold skin. What a relief to watch the clinking dishes lessen; you sigh at the small amount still left, and Jungkook catches it immediately.

“See?” he teases, loading the dishwasher. Even that seems like a task after such a day; tidying up the living room was more than enough. “Good that we did most of it during and after cooking. It’s so much even now.”

Eyes heavy, you admit, “I should learn to listen to you more.”

He clicks his tongue, skipping a response, and then, out of the blue, says, “Angel… I could get used to this.”

“To me listening to you more?”

“Yes. But no. To you being here.”

You glow up, even though you’re still facing the sink, smile a little hidden, “You need to. Because I’ll be annoying you all the time.”

“Oh, I believe you.”

You hit him with a spoon, wetting the spot a bit before handing the cutlery to him. Delivering a head tilt, he smirks. Amused before he remembers something and asks, “Hey. What were you and Eun talking about earlier?”

“Hm? When?”

“Before dinner. It looked serious.”

You halt mid-movement. Did he catch something? Maybe. But you only insist, “Nothing special. About her graduation… you know, since it’s pretty soon.”

Huh. Doesn’t seem to quite cut it.

“Mmmh. Anything else?”

You feign a thoughtful moment, as if you’ve wiped your memory clean off whatever she said to you. Then, you tell him, “Yeah. I told her how you played around with the recipe and came up with the best dinner ever. And how hot you looked doing it.”

“…You said the last bit, too?”

“No.” Jungkook blows a raspberry before comically pressing his lips into a line, eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s not my fault. I mean, do you know how attractive is it to be among people and know that this one person is still only looking at you?”

Oh, all too well…

“I would definitely know,” he chuckles. “Shit. You’ve been testing me tonight, you know?”

“…How?”

“All those compliments and ambiguous statements.” You shrug your shoulders in apparent innocence, muttering a small, ”It’s true" before he digs, “Anyway, don’t distract me. Anything else she said?”

Perhaps you’re done playing games. And perhaps you should’ve kept doing just that; because your next answer is a much greater tease.

“…I’ll tell you about it soon enough.”

Jungkook squints, organising a plate into a free spot, playfully disgruntled, “Unfair.”

“Hang in there.”

“Alright. You’re lucky I trust you.”

Your grin is gaping wide, and he attempts his best to ignore it. But when you add an evil snicker to it, regarding him with pure mirth in your eyes, he folds, “What?”

“Nothing. You’re just so cute. You’ll keep acting like you’re digging, but still always know when to respect my decisions. Maybe the bar is low? But I find trust ridiculously attractive.” You throw a longing smile at him, bringing a damp fingertip to his cheek to poke. “And to top it off… You’re so pretty, too, and I’m just… enamoured from all sides and—”

You wait and he uses the moment to wipe his cheek on his shirt. But when you don’t speak on, he spurs you on, “…And?”

“And I want you so bad.”

The plate waiting to be set into the dishwasher drops on the counter. Jungkook stares up, regarding the ceiling with a seemingly agitated look. You don’t know what’s truly whirling in him, so you warily ponder, “…What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Jungkook turns the water off, taking the cups from your hands and placing them in the sink. He shakes his palms off the liquid, and then whispers, “Okay. Later.”

The hold around your wrist is firm, and the tug firmer. Determined, he leads you out of the kitchen, slapping a hand over the light switch; your eyes are wide when you ask, “Wait, we’re not do—”

His answer is predictable; yet, you didn’t foresee it. Because—

“Bedroom. Right now.”

THE MORNING OF THE CONFESSION

Unlike you, Jungkook has considered himself a night owl ever since he entered the bustling world of college. Settling in the city was a stirring experience, and the thrill of it, along with a girlfriend, exams and newfound friends, kept him up until the sun rose again.

He enjoyed what he did, too. Loved school, so he didn’t mind the fatigued eyes during lectures. Truly one of the handful of joys that helped rid his head of the brain fog he bestowed upon himself after each long, sleepless night.

And he was an avid participant in classes despite his sheepish persona — they shook him awake, the late afternoon workouts obliterating the rest of the exhaustion. Maybe that’s why he was so reluctant to flake out for the night, too; still energised.

But while Jungkook carried the spirit of a straight-out-of-the-high-school-freshman who disliked falling asleep early, he despised waking up at the break of day just as much.

Would groan, blinking into the sun, with no one to blame for his agitation but him. No matter how deep his fascination for his studies and how quick the fading of his initial irritation — the first few minutes of every day were pure agony.

Jungkook is still a night owl. Still wants the nights to stretch, albeit for other reasons now. But his attitude towards mornings has changed.

There’s a shift in his preferences now; you moved his universe by an inch, altered it so effortlessly. Suddenly, he doesn’t regret rising with the sun next to him. He doesn’t curse the groggy feeling anymore.

There’s a silky touch he seeks every single morning that his eyes open to, lips he follows with his own blindly. You’re a permanent presence now, air and fire to his lungs, and he feels the freshness, feels the burn whenever your fingers brush his shoulders upon waking up.

He won’t need to check in at work for a few hours still; yet, sleeping in would mean losing the minutes that you’re still here before walking out the door until the evening.

He’ll sacrifice a slumber for this. Voluntarily.

And it’s crazy how none of this requires any sort of effort or pleading from your side. How all you need to do is to breathe and talk and smile and stay.

Those extra moments, no matter how fleeting, grant him a little more time on Earth with you, and he grasps it greedily. Even when you spend it teasing the hell out of him. Or, even when you wake up with scorching cheeks and endearing, high pitched complaints.

Like today.

“I still can’t believe yesterday,” you say.

“It’s okay.”

“I embarrassed myself so hard. Thinking about it, can I really show my face at the wedding? I’ll probably make things worse.”

Jungkook keeps glancing at the back of your head, the loose bun shaking with your movement. Smoothly, his fingers trace up and down your back; a gesture he started randomly and continued the moment you mumbled, “I like it… continue?”

Sat between his legs, you’ve been swaying for a while, both uneasy and amped about the approaching event. And to Jungkook, it’s as sweet as it is frustrating to see your brain fuming like that.

“Come here, baby,” he demands, content when you reverse into him. He wraps his arms around your chest, pulling you to his body, and presses a pillowy kiss to your temple. “You’re overthinking again. I promise you, we’ll make sure you have the most fun.”

“I embarrassed myself so hard,” you repeat, and Jungkook kisses his teeth.

“You’re a clown, I’ll admit,” you whine his name, and he laughs, “but I’m telling you. I know my mom and that was her I-like-you voice. Which I didn’t doubt for a second, by the way. Like, she really seems happy with how my life has turned out, and with whom. As am I. Understand?”

One more kiss to your scalp. He swings you from side to side, ignoring the ticking of the clock. In a few, you’ll be leaving the apartment, and Jungkook will need to kill the hours until he joins Namjoon at work.

He shouldn’t be missing you already; but he still holds you tighter. Tighter until you let out a little groan, a hand on his arm. He can’t read your thoughts or decipher whether his promise helped; because you don’t answer yet.

Only wait for a few seconds, allowing him to wallow in your warmth until you call, “…Jungkook.”

“Mhh?”

“Talking about life and stuff… did you always imagine yours to be like this? Just curious.”

“Like this?” he ponders, mentally intertwining every current branch of his life into one healthily growing tree. He’s liking it. “Well… I graduated. An exhibition ahead that’ll hopefully bring me a step closer to my own studio and profession.”

You hum in pride, tapping his arm as an affectionate reward. He continues, “I do what I love, have some great friends… and I get to spend my days with my favourite person? Doesn’t sound too bad to me.”

You crane your neck to look at him; your lips are so close to his, tilted into a smile that’s so unbelievably you. “You called me that last night, too.”

“Huh? Oh, that’s right. And… I mean it. Like. Now that you’re here, it’s even clearer somehow?”

“…How so?”

“Mmh… whenever I used to get home, I’d think of what to eat and of showering and going to sleep. And when I come home now, the first thing I think of is you. What we’d cook tonight. Or what we might watch or talk about. You’re…”

He feels your chest rise under his limbs; a sigh of fondness as he knows it best.

“You’re the one I want to spend all my time with.” He pauses when you look at your blanket-covered lap, hiding your twinkling eyes. “So it’s clear.”

“You always sound so hopelessly…”

You halt mid-sentence, the touch against your arm tensing — much like his own heart, jumping to the next beat with a heavy thud. You shake your head; Jungkook doesn’t get to dwell in further thoughts… still doesn’t have the words for them yet.

Or doesn’t want to admit them yet.

If he thought about them long enough and arrived at a conclusion, would you think he’s rushing your relationship? Would it scare you?

Better not find out yet.

So he lets you talk and listens, “Anyway. So, is there anything, like… more? That you want to achieve someday? Or that you think of sometimes before you go, that’s still left for me to do.”

How fitting.

Pretending to be sinking into thoughts, Jungkook hums, letting his chest vibrate against your back, and then answers truthfully, “Yeah? Maybe a couple things. We’ll see them with time when I gather the courage to tackle them.”

“Like what?”

“Hmm… am I allowed to say that already?” More simulations, teasing you with a fake distant gaze and a hissing inhale of air. “I’m not sure. You’ll know.”

“Hey! That makes me nervous.”

“No need.” You interrupt his speech with another sound of disapproval, pulling a dorky, infectious chortle out of him; his nose scrunches up. “I’m kidding. I’m talking about all the goals I have for my career. I don’t want to stop, no matter what. Keep going and keep striving for more.”

You nod; someone as hard-working as you would understand. In a sense, you’re a role model to him, too — a sentiment that you, as you have often emphasised, reciprocate.

Yet, you advise, “Just don’t overwork. Think of Icarus! We can’t always get more than more, you know? There’s happiness in satisfaction with what we have, too. But either way…” You angle your legs, pulling them close; cuddling into him more. “I’ve got your back.”

And perhaps that’s one of the gazillion traits he cherishes so much about you.

Your position at work is reputable and treasured, and you could easily push him to work harder, too. Could want him to match your career success, because it’s more or less guaranteed for you.

But you don’t. You stand by his side, prioritising his happiness and mental strength, albeit unaware of how his future might turn out. When you say you’ve got his back, he believes you.

“I know,” he says, lips in your hair, breathing you in. “Yeah… I know.”

“Hmmm… okay,” you move on, “what about me? Do you have any expectations? Certain standards and rules? I just,” you reach forward, tugging the blanket over your chest and his arm, “I feel like that’s something one should talk about. Tell me if it’s too much, though.”

“No, you’re right. But honestly? Is it… is it weird to say that you’ve kinda become a standard?”

“…I— What do you mean?”

“I just mean that… I’m never going to tell you that I expect you to be loyal and kind because it’s the bare minimum, right? Who doesn’t want all that? I know you are, so I don’t need to say it. So I don’t have any other expectations from you; these things are already the foundation of our relationship. Just. Mmh, how do I say it?”

He thinks for a moment, but you’re nodding, as if you’ve already understood. But his thoughts don’t end here; they’re just difficult to word. In his mind, they’re clear, but upon having to express them, he doesn’t quite understand the concept of language anymore.

Curses its limitations.

But then, as emotions gingerly gather to a coherent sentence at last, he tries to explain:

“Rather than adhering to any rules or standards I could have, I feel like you’re building them for me. You make me have a type, you know?” He feels you dissolve in his arms as he taps between your clavicles. “And that’s you. I don’t want anyone if I can’t have you.”

Did he go off track? Possibly. But you don’t seem to mind.

Because your voice is painfully sweet and miniscule when you speak, on the brink of losing the fight against the tremble, “But you have me. Pinky promise that you do, for a long, long time.”

Yeah… yeah, he does. And he’d be damned if he let this go.

Because if he ever did — if he ever so foolishly lost you again after combating these cruel storms, you’d still remain his standard. He’d look for you in each face passing, and in every laugh sounding.

The blueprint. And an everlasting memory.

Does it make sense? He doesn’t know.

And it doesn’t matter anyway. You’re right here.

“I’ll take your pinky promises,” he says, overjoyed as he crosses his legs over your shins, peppering more kisses onto your cheeks, the corner of your eyes, on your ear. He speaks in between your sighs and quiet laughs, “What about you? What do you want?”

“I… I don’t think I’ve ever had any expectations either, but. The wedding and—” You hesitate, as if considering dropping whatever you were going to list; and then you start anew, “The wedding made me think, and I— I just want to have so much fun with you.”

“Yeah? Tell me about it.”

“I want all the ordinary things we do to feel special because it’s us doing them. And I don’t ever want us to regret anything, so… I want us to be brave.”

“Brave? Well, you’re already the strongest and bravest person I know.”

“Braver. I want to live without restraints. And I don’t want to overthink anymore.”

Hmm…

Jungkook has seen your jumbled up thoughts before. The pain you cause to your mind sometimes, and the zoned out eyes painting pictures of what you fear the most.

He knows that feeling. Has battled one too many beasts to lessen the ache; even if it’s not always possible. Even if he seeks reassurances sometimes, too. And maybe that’s the prominent and sole reason why he never dismisses your disquiet.

Why push you away if you’re already at an impasse? Why not lead you out of the maze?

“Take it easy, okay?” he soothes, letting his grip around you fall bit by bit to search for your fingers instead. “Restraints can’t beat us.”

“Yeah! I’m hopeful.”

“You should be.” Because thinking of all you’ve fought within the span of a couple weeks… “You’re the first person to show me that there’s no reason to be scared, you know?”

“Then…” You sit up, curling your fingers around his hand, lifting it mid-air in sudden eagerness. “Just imagine how life could go, right? We could go to the ocean. Oh.” You gasp, sucking in air. “Oh my god! The Great Barrier Reef!”

“Ohhh, that’s actually a solid bucket list item. And then, bungee jumping?”

You nod zealously; lacking your fingers’ mobility required to list things, you instead knock your intertwined hands against your thigh each time to come up with something new. Like now, “Cliffs. And northern lights, too. I’ve always wanted to see them.”

Reflexively, you look up.

Stare at the glued-on stars from last night, and the now missing projection you dozed off to. An effective visual lullaby; you didn’t even stir when Jungkook turned it off, tucking you in properly. In your blanket; in him.

“Hell yes,” Jungkook confirms.

“But the first stop’s your hometown… and the wedding. I want to meet your family and be super awkward about it.”

Jungkook laughs, forehead falling forward against your head. He shakes it for a second, and then recalls, “Ah… so chickens and family awkwardness. What else?”

He didn’t expect this to work out before he asked you. Considering you’ve barely started at Novaura, he anticipated gentle rejection. But now that it’s become a certain event in the incredibly near future, his heart pounds every time you mention it.

Because…

You in a dress. You in his house. You, dominating over every single heart that’s dear to him.

And it seems you’ve already thoroughly thought about this, because your answer shoots out of you like a bullet, “Wanna dance with you. And kiss you under the lights.”

“Angel… you’re over the moon about this, aren’t you?”

“…Too obvious?”

You allow a fleeting glance back to him before your eyes fall down to his bare arm, ending in a hand clinging to yours; covered in ink, much like the rest of his right limb. He knows you’re staring at the flowers without asking.

And as if knowing, reading your soul, he doesn’t find himself surprised when you suggest, “And then… one day… What do you think? Should I get a tattoo someday, too?”

“Totally, if that’s what you want. What would you wanna get?”

“Flowers to match? I don’t know. Maybe you can draw on me. Here,” you lead his hand to your thigh, sticking there for a while until you move up to your hip. “Or here.”

He wonders how focused your thoughts are right now. Because if they are, and you’re not fixating on the changes of his skin, you probably won’t register the countless goosebumps under his tattoos.

A giddy sensation spreads throughout his body, collecting in his chest and tummy. Memories of a nearly bare body, painted in his dozen colours returning. And then, pictures of the same hues blurring, smudging.

He breathes an exhale, insane at the thought of kissing those lines. Of lips trailing up your skin, stopping at your hip, dying a pleasant death.

Fuck.

“I… I would. I’ll paint you any day.”

His words come out more airy than intended, fingers itching to pinch your chin, to move your face to his. To slide down the mattress, to kiss your lips swollen, making out with you until the sun sets…

But the world is cruel and too real; the clock still ticks until he realises that freezing in place isn’t an option right now. So he says, “As much as I hate to say this… You should get ready for work.”

You groan; there’s something sweet about your unwillingness to go. Relatable. And it sticks until the exhaustion washes away with each second. Small breakfast in, clothes on, newfound work spirit restored.

Must be a good day approaching.

And you’ve been enjoying the recent ones, he assumes. Despite being so good at what you do, there’s a clear difference in how you tackle a day at Charmante versus at Novaura.

And you confirm it when he accompanies you to the entrance, bidding you goodbye until you meet again later, “What I love most about Novaura is that they don’t feel the need to communicate everything with Mom. They’re their own independent world and trust themselves.”

“Right… You as someone equally independent will fit right in, so they’re lucky to have you there. Makes me wonder, though.” Jungkook pauses, watching you grab your jacket from the wall hook, “Are your Charmante people okay with you being at Novaura so much?”

A COUPLE DAYS LATER

“…I really don’t know if I can do this.”

Well, shit. Wasn’t he ready to strive for more, run endlessly until his feet tired? Where is the dread suddenly emerging from?

Jungkook has barely set his sketchbook down when lightning bolts head for him.

Countering his concern with kissing eyebrows, Namjoon’s full lips purse, dimples gone as he wonders, “What are you even talking about?” — Much at the same time as you utter a threatening, “Shut up,” pastry lifted, ready to throw at him.

Jungkook shies away from the table, ready to dodge your attack; returning when you place the crumbly croissant back on your plate. He presses his lips together before smacking and kissing them, finger rolling the pen over his sketches, but eyes fixated on Namjoon’s notebook.

“I’m serious. There’s so much to do until November, and I… how do I get so much done?”

“But,” Namjoon knocks against the random drawing open on the table, “you already have so much to show. And you can revamp stuff from college, too. Besides, it’s okay to try your best and be scared at the same time, Jungkook! That’s part of a growing artist’s job.”

“But, are you sure I’m a growing artist?!”

Namjoon mutters something under a breath, and you add something unintelligible to the reassuring mix. Jungkook’s worried gaze remains on the rough lines of pencil on paper, teeth repeatedly nibbling his lower lip. Baring his mole.

He closes the sketchbook, staring at the golden, imprinted letters on a dark black background. He’s filled a quarter of it already; the very piece you gifted him for his birthday almost a month ago.

In some way, opening to a blank page serves as inspiration alone. You furnished him with something so simple yet gorgeous; thoughtful engraving to use as a reminder to hold onto his efforts.

But…

Amidst the lasting zeal, he’s been racking his brain. Because. What if he immerses himself in this, spending hours tainting his fingertips in different tints — only to steer towards failure?

What if it doesn’t work out? And he ends up not amounting to much, other than trying his luck online and living on a bare minimum of a salary? Would he start tutoring young, aspiring artists?

And you…

You’re diving into a stable job, well-paid, well-known. If you end up carrying both of you on your shoulders… would you think of him as a washout? Grow frustrated and dissatisfied?

You’ve been repeatedly declaring your unswerving support, but what if you some day do realise that…

Ugh.

He stuck to this passion with the full knowledge he would never fall out of love with it; but now that he’s working for his dreams, the process seems so scary all of a sudden.

“And I’m at the wedding, too…” he says.

He leans back in his chair, moving his pupils away from the paper and instinctively up to you. More concerns threaten to tumble off the tip of his tongue, but when your eyes suddenly flicker with disappointment, his lips shut again.

You blink, unsure, before you ask, “Do you… not want to go? We could totally stay here if you need the time.”

Oh…

Hadn’t you gushed about the event day in, day out now, he would’ve maybe believed your words. And in some sense, you probably do think of the alternative as okay, as long as he profits from it.

But he sees it in your eyes. And not just in yours — he’s been as enthralled by the idea as you. Which is why…

“No,” he responds, “no. We will go.”

Because the prospect of winding down with you has been keeping him sane. Doting on you under the countryside stars, showing you all you haven’t seen before, body to body dancing with you…

He’s not missing out on that, no matter what.

And god knows you need the break, too… especially after the utter hysteria last Friday…

“Kook, think about it. You need to be absolutely sure,” you argue, genuine worry in your gaze; from his side eye, he sees Namjoon nod in confirmation.

“I am. We’ll go, baby, okay?”

You don’t avert your gaze; your mouth closes a little, but you stay unblinking, waiting for his mind to change. He knows because he sees the thoughts floating at the surface of your eyes.

Like you’re still pondering; of course you are. As someone who’s been working hard for their career, even if just for a few months, you’d know. Who’d understand if not you?

The trance lingers between the two of you, and Jungkook lifts his lips, a vow and certainty in his smile. Moment only broken when Namjoon clears his throat and encourages once more, “Give it a shot, Jungkook… Those high-profile people need to see what you’re capable of! I mean, we’re so lucky to have them coming to our exhibits.”

Namjoon gestures randomly, across the small restaurant as he says, “Say what you will about this city, but we lure in quite a few esteemed artists for sure.”

“Who says something about this city?” you ask.

“I do,” Namjoon’s voice is soothing. One thing Jungkook has learned about him is that his flowery mind never rests. Lyrical; not always easy to understand. “I love and hate it. Leaving it, living it.”

He pauses, sipping on his diet coke before smacking the taste away and ordering, “Ask me anytime if you need any help, alright? And be confident.”

“And… what if it does work?”

Your gentle laugh sounds from the opposite side of the table, the straw of your milkshake on your tongue. The rhythmic melody calms something deep in him; perhaps more because he understands your reaction.

You’re just as cute worrying about things that he knows you’d ace.

“Well,” Namjoon starts, aware that Jungkook knows; still annihilating his unease, “the guy is ready to buy your art. If it goes well, he’ll sponsor you. Then, at some point, you’ll be able to afford your own studio and grow as an artist. Ideally.”

“Ah… ah, really…”

”Kookie,” your voice calls; you lean over the round table, shoving the milkshake aside, “don’t worry. And in the most unlikely case that it doesn’t go as planned, know that I’ll cheer you on either way.”

“And me too,” Namjoon raises a hand.

Your finger swings to and fro between Namjoon and you, and your expression changes from empathic and soft to the sweetest, most gut-wrenching smile he’s ever seen. The apples of your cheeks lift, pupils sparkling when you vow, “We’re here for you.”

He…

He could look at you all day, blinking be damned. Could pour out his emotions every second of every minute of every hour, and it’d still not match the endless letter his heart keeps crafting for you.

Disregarding how much of a shipwreck the two of you were last Friday, his chest has still lightened ever since; an epiphany has never been sweeter.

Because…

The words he couldn’t compose into a poem before are now an ardent confession, with rhymes and a melody and infinite beauty. Roaming his mind nonstop, caught in that baby pink bubble.

When had his senses last heightened this much?

Because somehow, he still feels the damp trail of tears he cried that night. And the heart that beat against your cheek. You, frozen against him, processing his words.

If there are ways to make him fall in love harder, you’ve been presenting them all the goddamn time.

And fuck, it’s been hard focusing on anything but you.

Like, on paying. Or on upholding a conversation with Namjoon — assuring him he’d be back in the studio in a bit as he prepares to bid you goodbye for the day.

To his chagrin, the walk to your car isn’t long. It’s parked at a corner, convenient for lunch dates like these; you promised you’d join one with Joon at some point, and you did. Forty-five minutes passed too quickly. Felt like a moment.

“Namjoon is so nice!” you comment, hands in the pockets of your denim jacket.

You keep swaying back and forth, from your heels to your toes and back. Your smile and movements suggest a free spirit, but your risen shoulders and the shallow crease between your eyebrows drench you in something tense.

You’ve been like that since you suggested staying, focusing on his work.

“He’s so wise, too, really,” Jungkook responds, close to you in case your swinging moves leave you tumbling, “like, a cool mix between calm and dorky. I’ve been learning so much from him.”

“Jeon Jungkook and his love for his mentor. You will never stop talking about him.”

Jungkook shrugs, a hand to the nape of his neck, face warming, “He’s cool, what can I say?”

“Yeah.”

And once again… he sees you gulp. Unsure, pupils flickering. You usually don’t struggle maintaining eye contact. So he soon wonders, “Are you okay? I… I hope you didn’t misunderstand what I said earlier. I really do want to go to the wedding.”

“Hm?” you voice, chin lifting a bit before you dispute, “Oh. No, I believe you. If you say it’s okay, then that’s how it is.”

“What then?”

“What do you mean? Do I really seem like something’s up?”

“A little.”

“Uhm…”

You roll up your eyes as you dig into your thoughts. Scouring your brain for whatever might be meandering in the back of your mind. Hm… seems you’re not fully cognisant of the subtle change in your behaviour, either?

So maybe, it means nothing after all.

Then again. It must be something.

Because in hindsight, he didn’t only notice today, but all weekend, too—

Oh…

Maybe you’re just getting used to the new developments; maybe they’re just making you a bit bashful like him. Maybe…

Okay. Deep breath. He just needs to make it sound like a joke, nothing pushy or odd or awkward because—

“Or is it because I told you I love you? Have I scared you off already?”

He watches your breathing stop. As though flexing an x-ray stare, watching your lungs dry up, air stuck in your throat until it escapes through your nose. Honestly… he’s been feeling the same.

“No!” you answer, tone breathy, pulling a hand out of the pocket to sprightly push at his shoulder. He barely budges. “Of course not. All that does is make me want to faint.”

Jungkook chuckles, delighted when your laugh matches his own. He doesn’t always know how to take a compliment either; but you fix your speechlessness with that glow on your face. Fills his own body with fairy dust, too.

His dimples are valleys when your fingers move to his open jacket, grazing the zipper and filling the seconds with quiet tenderness. He doesn’t know what to say to you until you let the silence prolong and then giggle into it once more.

If he could just dive into your brain. But all he has are his own, messy thoughts.

And those tangled thoughts say—

“Angel… Can I kiss you?” Now his lungs are collapsing, too. Worse, so much worse when you look into his eyes, still so surprised at every sliver of affection he signs. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

No… he needs to. Needs to blossom in this breezy weather. But he won’t tell you that.

He’ll just keep looking at you. One second, two seconds — until you’ve raised your hands to the collar of his jacket to move him closer, soon sneaking your touch further up to his neck. A miniscule and wordless hint of approval, and he basks in it avidly.

Twitching palms hesitate for only the subtlest of moments before they’ve dashed up to your cheeks, cupping your face and leaning in and…

Lock.

A picture of a lock. And of its key.

The first thing to flash into his mind.

Because how do his lips fit so perfectly between yours? When you touch him like this, delicate fingers caressing his jaw, how do you feel so much like a feather? And the damn way you sigh into his mouth… how you reciprocate the kiss.

He will never tire of telling you, telling himself, that you match him just like the ocean complements the shore. And it’s baffling. How perfect this feels, and how right it feels.

You do make the ordinary extraordinary.

Like a kiss that is shared a million times a day, between so, so many people. But you’re moving your lips against his. Holding onto him, tilting your head, soaking in his warmth. Going tentatively, then a bit faster, then slow again.

For the merest moments when your mouths part, you gasp, inhaling before pushing your fingers into his hair, at the back of his head. Then back against him, seeking his tongue; such soft sounds meeting his that he swears he could cry.

Cry about the shiver down his spine and the flutter in the pit of his stomach. About the world becoming a backdrop to everything in the middle of the pavement; and about how his thoughts only revolve around your shared breaths and the feeling of your warm cheeks.

Just you.

You, you, you.

Still too far away. Why do you drive him so incredibly mad?

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He loves you. He loves you.

Under a breath and against your soft pillows, he mutters your name; so airy that he barely recognises his voice. His tongue drags over your lower lip, pecking one more time before he establishes an intruding distance between you.

Your foreheads touch for a transient bit, thumb skimming your cheek. When he opens his eyes, yours are still shut, and you’re feeble in his grip. And then, he asks, “What’s wrong?”

You swallow again. Take a breath before admitting, “You’re right. There’s something I want to ask you, and I was so stupidly… nervous about it.”

“Yeah?”

“The whole gang, they… they’ve been planning something. They paid for it and all, but they’re waiting for me to give them an answer, so they know if I need to pay them back or if they should cancel or, or—”

He interrupts your ramble with a soft, “Tell me, babe.”

“Okay,” your eyelids finally open up; your gaze is so hazy when you look at him. “It’s a trip. Four days, three nights, during the wedding week.” He hasn’t said a word when you hurry to add, “But, we can leave earlier. It’s a road trip kinda thing to the mountains and the beach and. They want us there, too.”

”Oh.”

“…Yeah.”

“I… Baby.” He moves back, shaking his head. He was careful not to ruin your hair, well aware you have half a work day ahead of you; but he still brushes a strand back. “Were you and Eun talking about that two weeks ago?”

“Yeah. And Tae also said I should be the one to ask because you’d like that. But then things happened and all the stress and…”

“But… even before that. Why were you so nervous asking me about it for so long?”

“Because,” you answer, one shrug of your shoulders, “I wanted to wait and see how you feel about the exhibition and the workload. And you already have limited time because of the wedding and I didn’t want to take away more of it.”

He can’t help but beam; why does this feel… endearing? Mirrors his own thoughts when he asked you about accompanying him to the wedding.

“We really do have the same brain, don’t we?” he asks.

“You’d think we’d learn.”

You say it lightheartedly, yet gnaw on your lips. He tongues the inside of his cheek, keeping eye contact, and then queries, “There’s something else, right?”

“Ah, just.”

You look unsure, trying to make sense of your thoughts, but your uncertainty makes him uncertain, too. So he exhales before he prods, “What? What what? Is it something bad?”

“No! Just. They’ve been wanting to do this since the summer. They never talked about it to me because you and I were… you know.” You kiss your teeth, and he uses the second to whoosh away the aching memories. “But they never cancelled for us, either.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because they’d say, and I quote, ‘Just wait.’ They knew we couldn’t stay away from each other even before we did.” You laugh. “Eun told me that day in the kitchen.”

Even before you did?

Untrue. He knew he didn’t want to live without you the moment you left his apartment, tear-soaked and heartbroken.

“Okay…” he starts, “and you were worried because?”

“Because you always get so sad when I talk about the summer. Explaining the context of the trip seemed hard to me, and I didn’t want you to feel guilty.”

Oh…

Shit, man.

“You’re… ahhh… my sweet baby.” He wants to hug you to his chest and never let go. But you’re already running out of time, lunch break nearing its end, so he only grips your shoulders. “You know that it gets better after two minutes, no? Because whatever happened, I have you now.”

He flicks your chin as he has been lately; it cheers you up. Makes you smile a bit, conjures the pout away. Adding to the effect when he says, “Don’t worry so much, my love.”

Another inhale. Then, you admit, “I’m sorry. I dragged it out.”

“It’s okay.”

“So… would you come? Do you think you could take some time off work and all? I’d understand if it’s too much.”

“Hmm… Right before the wedding, isn’t it?”

“Mid-october, yes. We could leave earlier!” you reiterate, hellbent on assuring he’s not obligated to do anything. So sweet, how you scratch your head. “They’d drive on. It’s convenient because it’s all in the same week.”

“Mountains and beach, you say.”

“If you don’t like them, we can stay at the hotel and chill together.”

Shit.

His grin widens with each heartbeat; you notice, because despite your suggestions, you sound more lively now.

And yet, it’s funny you’d question all these things like this at all. Don’t you remember damp cheeks and gentle touches?

Just days ago.

How he was still trembling when you left Eun’s complex. How he stopped you before climbing into the car, much like now, mumbling a timid, “Angel…”

And then retracting when his heart combusted. Looking into your eyes, still red, his own mind filled with nervous fear before settling on, “Nothing. Let’s go home.”

Or how you cried in the living room. How you broke down, terrified he might walk away. How his breath quivered, how his head spun, how he felt like he might throw up or faint or scare you off.

The damn sickness in his stomach until he spat the hidden words for the first time. And the pounding of his heart when you responded with a mumbled, “Kook… How.”

And… how his chest constricted at everything that followed after that. Don’t you remember?

In spite of every indication he threw your way — you still worry so much.

Funny you’d be so nervous around someone who wants to see the entire world with your hand in his.

What did you call it again? Wanting to be brave.

So fucking easy with you.

“How about…” he begins, staring into anticipating eyes, hearing a storm of cheers rumble, “going shopping before we leave?”

Your demeanour changes momentarily. The unsure girl, afraid to hurt him, soon finds her way back to her foundation. You light up, a hand over your mouth; your cheeks must be hurting.

You deliver one, short jump and then pull him back in, kissing his lips once before scattering a couple more pecks next to them. He soon finds himself pushing you towards your car, forcing you back to work, but you have a thousand things to babble about.

He’s adoring all the bright stars in your eyes — now he understands how you feel when you see the same universe in his.

It’s crazy. How effort is never required from your side for him to feel that way. How you only need to breathe and talk and smile and stay.

Stay stay stay.

The word sails and wafts through his dazy thoughts like a silent prayer. Begging and begging; pleading to allow him to pour all his love on you, although he doesn’t need to ask. You always let him anyway.

And he guesses he’s using that permission thoroughly. Maybe that’s why keeps craving and burning for more; why he’s been holding you tighter these nights.

His tiger lily pressed against your heart.

*head in hands* they are so crazy for each other, pls 😭 warmth and reassurances and support and bickering literally build the foundation of their relationship and i love them sm :') for some reason the editing process knocked me out, but i still adore this one so so much, and i hope you guys did, too!! 🥺

feedback is always so so appreciated!! you guys are literally such a freaking supportive bunch and have kept this series alive for so long and i love you to death :( here's to the first one this year!! as always, please consider leaving a like, reblog (with or without feedback!), comments and spammm my inbox with everything that's on your mind hehe <3 any kind of msg makes my day!

and nowww!!!!! moving on to cmi: palette and VACAYYYY!!! mwah mwah 🤍

#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #jeongguk smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts x you #bts imagines #jungkook fic #bts angst #jungkook angst #jungkook

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popamolly · 2 months

Text

‘INTERNAL REDEMPTION’ LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR

summary. (y/n) continues to spy on Lucifer, preying on the little vulnerability that allows he allows (y/n) to see. Unbeknownst to both of them there is something blossoming with each conversation and shared stolen glance.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR

warnings. lucifer morningstar x stripper!fem!reader, eventual smut, mention of death, slow burn, biblical references, sex work, sexual themes, trauma, abuse, murder, slow burn, 18+ minors dni

author’s note. italics is for a flashback, just wanted to let everyone know if that isn’t made clear in the text, i finished this up at like 2am. enjoy sinners <3

Lucifer held you captive with his words for hours. Explaining everything you wanted to know about him and his army of ducks. That wall was slowly crumbling as was his resolve. Though that seemed to be in the back of your mind as you found yourself intrigued by him and his story— ultimately finding out that the King of Hell was actually quite charming in his way.

“So these ducks are a manifestation of sinners,” You look toward him as if to confirm his words and when Lucifer nodded you continued, “Every sinner in Hell? No wonder you have so many.”

“And this isn’t even half of it,” Lucifer smiles proudly as he hops up from his chair, gesturing toward the rubber duck piles that almost reached the ceiling, “There are more at my amusement park.”

“I see, I guess I am just trying to understand why ducks of all things?”

“Spiritual progression? Rebirth? New beginnings?” Lucifer taps his chin in thought before shrugging, “A mere duck can mean a lot of different things that’s why, plus they are cuuuuteee!”

You laugh, a real genuine laugh, which was a sound you haven’t made in a long while. The King wasn’t so bad once you got know him. If anything he was an ideal king that you would read stories about. You wanted nothing more than to listen to him talk for hours more.

“What?” Lucifer got a bit self conscious, realizing that his excitement might have came off a bit nerdy or childish, “It’s silly isn’t it?”

You shake your head to ease his insecurities with a lopsided smile, “No, I just had this version of you in my head and seeing you now, in person..it's completely changed now that I have met you.”

“I hope that’s a good thing.” Lucifer chuckles. He fiddling with the top of his cane as if he was scared to meet your gaze.

“It is.” And for a moment you forgot why you were here. If you had to chose between the V’s and Lucifer when it came to deciding Hell’s fate, Lucifer would win by a landslide— but Lucifer wasn’t the one who owned your soul, “Tell me more about Charlie. Your face lights up whenever you speak of her.”

“She is my pride and joy!” Lucifer boasts proudly, “She has this whole Hotel thing going on apparently. I’ve been poppin’ in here and there to help her ya know, being an awesome dad and whatnot.”

“And what of this hotel?” You ask, leaning a bit closer to Lucifer as if he would tell you a secret, “Does she really believe that she can redeem sinners?”

“Yes, she…she does,” Lucifer sighs after a moment, turning away from you to run his fingers through his golden hair. A heavy weight clearly on his shoulders as he thought of his daughter and her fairytale like dreams for Hell. It hurt his heart to know that he couldn’t do more for her. He knew he could make whatever dream of hers come true except for the one she wanted most. This was a whole other thing entirely. This was something between Hell and Earth and the lines have always been blurred— he would never be able to cross it even he wanted to.

“You don’t sound too sure..” You chose your words carefully. There was a tiny crack in his wall of vulnerability and you wanted to crack it some more, “Do you doubt Charlie?”

“No no no! Pfffft, Of course not!” Lucifer quickly says before sighing in defeat, raking his fingers through his blonde hair, “I don’t doubt her..I just— I don’t think she understands the weight of what she is trying to do. I just l don’t want her to end up hurt over this.”

“If all else fails then she will know that you were there for her,” You say, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly, “All you have to do is believe in her, even if you don’t believe in her dreams.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Lucifer turned to look at you. A split moment in time where the world seemed to stop and it was just you and him. Your words might have came from your own selfish need to stay on Valentino’s good side but your kindness remained true. It became clear to you that the King was nothing more than a prideful man that was trying his best. Not only for his daughter but himself and for Hell. In the short time that you knew him it was something that you quickly learned to admire, “Yes, well,” Lucifer clears his throat, his cheeks flushing slightly under your intense gaze, “Thank you for the company. It was nice to…open up a bit.”

“Of course, your majesty,” You nod, taking that as your cue to leave the King to his Kingly duties as the time you two spent together had made day turn to night in an instant, “I will leave you to your duties.”

“Right! My duties! I am a very very busy man! So many souls to collect, tons of sinners to kill, people to torture, the list just goes on…haha!” Lucifer wanted to jump out of his own skin and slap himself silly. Curse him for his rambling, why did he even feel the need to impress you? A lowly sinner that meant absolutely nothing to him.

“if you ever need a friend or,” Your fingertips grazes the doorknob to his bedchambers with the tray of empty plates in the other arm, “…A listening ear, you always call upon me.” Offering one last smile in the King's direction, you slip out into the hall, closing the door behind you softly.

Lucifer couldn’t help but feel how his room suddenly felt cold now that your warm presence was gone. There was a certain emptiness in the air that reminded him he was truly lonely. \

“So the King of Hell’s daughter wasn’t joking about the redemption of sinners,” Vox sneers over the tiny screen of the voxtech watch he gave you, “And whatever the reason for the Radio Demon to be by Charlie’s side, it surely only benefits him.” The watch screen slightly glitches from Vox laughing, “Redemption of sinners?! How stupid is that?”

“It could be possible,” You say, making the watch on your wrist glitch some more.

“If I wanted your opinion bitch, I would ask for it!” The static noise was starting to ring in your ears, its material overheating in the palm of your hand, “Whatever the case is, I need you sucking Lucifer’s dick by next week if we are going to get any valuable information out of him, do you understand me?”

You bit down on your bottom lip, tears stinging at the corner of your eyes from feeling guilty about getting close to Lucifer under such circumstances. Your paths should have never even crossed. You both might be in hell but you were in entirely different worlds. There was this unspoken connection you two shared the moment your eyes met and it was just enough to get the guilt eating away at you.

“Or do I have to tell Valentino that his favorite obedient girl is being defiant?”

“No, I—”

“Good, I’m so glad we have an understanding. Now go get me some actually good information I can fucking use!” With that Vox hung up the call, making you let out a deep breath that you didn’t know you were holding in. You toss the watch to the floor angrily, dropping your head into your hands. This was all just a stupid pointless mission. One that had no satisfying end or results because there was nothing to say. There was nothing to report back. The King, Charlie, and those around him was plotting to do more good than harm.

You leaned over to turn the faucet off, stopping the hot water from filling the porcelain tub completely after nearly overflowing it from being too lost in your thoughts.

Slowly, you began to slip out of your clothes, neatly folding them and putting them aside before stepping into the hot water, the stinging pain hardly anything you would flinch from. That stinging pain felt good, it reminded you that you were present in the moment even when you wanted nothing more than to just to disappear.

Closing your eyes to relax, you sink deeper and deeper into the water until you felt your mind slowly drift elsewhere.

With a melodic hum, you turned the page to your book, intrigued by the ancient text and words of God. Surrounding you were scrolls and other relics that you stole from the council’s library, eager to learn more about God and his mysterious ways. It was all you could do in Heaven after all, live blissfully but you were bored of that. Instead of thriving off the golden city’s pleasures you always found your head in a book, a simply pleasure that you’ve grown to love.

“Boo!” Lucifer suddenly pops down in front of you. Startled, you toss your book up, which he catches with ease, “What ya reading?”

“God’s texts Lulu, what else?” You try to grab your book from him but he holds it above your head, slowly inching upward with the help of his wings to show that he was taller than you. He wasn’t but you’d like to humor him every now and again, “Lucifer! Give it back!”

“Wouldn’t you much rather see the gift I brought you instead of reading a boring book?” Lucifer wiggled his eyebrows in jest, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

“A Gift?” You stopped jumping for your book then, your wings tucked back into you with a curious glint in your eyes. Lucifer gave dramatic pause before presenting you a green apple. He tossed it to you and you caught it in your delicate hands, smiling at the kind gesture. “An apple, how romantic.”

“Is it not to your liking?” Lucifer played along with your teasing remark, circling around you as he playfully grabs and twist your hair around his fingers in such a loving way that it had your heartbeat quickening and you breath falling short, "I thought I'd give you something a little bit more nontraditional."

It took everything in your power not to swoon over a damn apple because it wasn't just an apple to you. Lucifer would go out of his way to bring you things whenever you two would meet up at your secret spot under a new sprouting tree. There was something sparking between you two and you weren't sure how long you would be able to avoid it as you were a hopeless romantic. Lucifer had such a way with words that whenever he spoke it was if he was building palaces- cathedrals even. Between that and that charming warm smile, you knew you wouldn't be able to deny your feelings for much longer but until he admitted it first you weren't going to say anything. Call it stubbornness but you simply didn't want to be mistaken and absolutely sure that your feelings for him were one hundred percent reciprocated.

"Next time get a red apple," You said, finding that hidden resolve within you once again as you smirked at him, "They're sweeter."

"Are they now?" Lucifer stopped circling you to stand only inches apart from your face. He was so close that you could feel his breath against your lips. A ball of anticipation formed at the base of your stomach, making you feel as though you have swallowed butterflies, "(Y/N).." The angel in front of you swallowed a lump in his throat, his own body betraying him as he backs you up against the tree, lips only barely touching one another, "Can I kiss you?"

You were breathless. Lucifer had officially sucked out all the air from your lungs- or so it felt like, "Yes." And with your consent, Lucifer crashed his lips to yours passionately. He invaded your mouth and all of your senses. You melted into him, relaxing against his body as you brought your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. It was as if fireworks went off in your head. Even the sound of distant ringing of the bells had you questioning if it was truly meant to be.

You suddenly pulled away from Lucifer, "Bells.."

Lucifer blinks at you dreamily, "You hear them too? It's perfect."

"No, Lucifer, the bells! I'm late for afternoon prayer!" You shove him out the way and continue collecting your things. You have been late to afternoon prayer for the past two weeks and were already walking on a thin line with the Seraphims, you couldn't afford to be late again, "I have to go."

Lucifer pulls you back to him with a slight frown, "So soon? But this might be our last time together for awhile. I have that council meeting today."

"For what? Don't tell me this about your dreams and aspirations?" By the way Lucifer looked away from you you knew it was exactly that, "You can't bring that to the council members, they will see it as a threat to everything they have built."

"And have you ever asked yourself why that is? They should embrace change, not run away from it." Lucifer says, his facial expression serious, "I can prove to them that change is positive, something good!"

You shake your head, "Don't be a fool Lucifer."

"Why can't you just support this? Support me? Is change so bad?!"

"If it's going to cost you your life Lucifer, then I can't support it." You place your free hand on his check. The pad of your thumb grazing his soft skin comfortingly, "I won't support you in this."

Silence falls over you two and for a moment you thought that your friend had finally seen through to reason but it was the exact opposite. Your heart broke and you knew that your support was the one thing he ever wanted from you and you denied him that. There was this quiet heartbreak you felt in your chest, realizing that you had lost not only your lover but your friend as well.

Lucifer's hand comes up to grip your wrist, gently pulling you away from him, "With or without you, I will do this. I will show them. Show everyone." You could only watch as he turns from you and flies away, leaving you to be covered by his shadow and retreating back.

"That pride of yours," You whispered, hands clenched tightly into fist at your sides as you felt tears leave your eyes, "Will be your downfall, Lucifer."

You sat up in the water suddenly, gasping for air as you felt someone violently shake you. You sputtered and coughed up what felt like a lung, water trickled down and into your eyes making your vision blurry for a few seconds before you could blink them away to focus on the person who was kneeled next to the tub, concerned clearly etched across their face as they looked at you. You blinked away the water, the blurry figure now forming into none other than Lysandra.

"Goodness, dear! Do you know how dangerous it is to fall asleep in the bath?" Rushing to grab a towel that was hanging on a rack, Lysandra lets you put all of your weight on her as she helps you out the tub, wrapping the fuzzy warm towel around your nude body, "You're lucky I saw the water coming from under the door! What on earth were you thinking?" "I had the strangest dream.." You start to say, breathless and panting but Lysandra shushes you, helping you dry off and get warm as she leads you out the bathroom, fully intending on not leaving your side for the rest of the night.

"Hush, your mind must be in shambles poor thing," The elderly woman leads you back into your bedroom, "A nice cup of calming tea should do the trick. Now stay here and don't move."

You were still in shock to even register your current reality anymore. That dream you had felt too real, almost as if it had just happened. Why was Lucifer in it? Why were you an Angel? Why were you in heaven? You dismissed it as nothing more than your mind playing tricks on you. This only happened because of your growing connection to Lucifer. It was nothing of importance right? Dreams come from imagination- but there was a part of your mind that knew that dreams could also stem from memories.

@pyromaniac-on-caffeine @froggybich @punching-pentagrams @elleofdragons @futureittomainn @cryptidghostgirl @yelinmarceline @sunnydays-funnydays @theperfectmangovoid @ag-cookiebat800 @lil-bexie @haunt3ddo0ll @hamthepan @delightedtosee @astarionsjuiceboxgirl @fanfictionfans-stuff @hannahrose130

Be sure to leave a comment & let me know if you want to added to the tag list for this story so you’re updated whenever I drop a new chapter! xo

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sixosix · 6 months

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THAWED | LYNEY X FEM!READER SERIES

THAWED (MASTERLIST) — the lyney childhood-enemies-to-frenemies-to-lovers-kinda series that no one asked for, ft. fluff, a whole lot of bickering, flirting, and everything in between

STATUS. mostly updates on sundays

OTHER INFO.

DISCLAIMER. will contain spoilers. this series will be as dark as genshin lore can be, and this won’t strictly follow genshin’s actual lore—i’ll be making up a lot of stuff for the sake of the fic so there will be inaccuracies, NOT CANON COMPLIANT!! there’s no previous director, the timeline of events will be vastly different. each chapter will have their own warnings as well, so keep an eye out for that!

NOTES. hello, everyone !!!!!!! welcome to my lyney series inspired by taylor’s reputation album. how it works is each chapter will be titled after each song off of the album as u can see below,,, hope u enjoy reading as excited i am for rep tv!! :D

tysm to naosaki and kruinka for helping me brainstorm w this fic (and also helping me when i was visibly all over the place because of this series) also kruin u owe me something remember that <3

CHAPTERS.

i — are you ready for it?

The House of the Hearth was perfect. This was where you thrived—where no one else could take this feeling away. But then Lynette became a part of the ‘family’, and with it, she dragged along Lyney.

ii — i don’t wanna hurt you (i just wanna be)

You look more like a soldier than an orphan, Lyney thinks. It’s beautiful in all the wrong ways.

iii — you gotta leave before you get left

Desperately, Lyney melts them away, but your footsteps have already gone out of earshot. It’s an answer in itself: Don’t bother. Take the hint, Lyney; you already messed it up.

iv — for you i would fall from grace

“What now? What do you want me to do? Strut back into their lives and demand all their Fatui secrets as if I never left?”

Aether nestles into his seat. “Prove to me that I can trust them just as much as you do. Who knows, you might get something out of this, too.”

v — you must like me for me

Lyney laughs. It sounds like music that has haunted you for years—and with a new one playing, it’ll torment you for years more. He loosens his grip but keeps you caged in, still. You’re twirled around to face him, and something about his expression has you swallowing thickly.

“You’re even more stunning than I remember, ma chérie.”

vi — look what you made me do

You frown at him, your face upside down in his view. “That was unfair.”

“I have to be if I want to beat you.”

vii — all eyes on you, my magician

He doesn’t take his eyes off you, even once when his fingers reached out to fish out a champagne flute. Lyney still has that stupid smile on his face, the rim of his glass against his lips. You’re hit with the startling realization that you want to kiss him.

Fuck, what?

viii — you’ve ruined my life, by not being mine

“You’re so warm,” you murmur to his skin.

Goosebumps blossom all over his body. Your face brushes against the side of his neck. “Do you hate it?”

“I like it. My hands are cold. Every part of you is warm.”

more chapter previews soon...!

FANART !!!!!!

our favorite akagi0021 has been blessing me with THAWED fanart (!!!) and i decided that i need to compile all of them for me and to make YOU see the art as well... BECAUSE THEY'RE ALL SO GOOD (with permission of course)

CH 1 | reader's new outfit reveal

CH 2 | lyney doesn’t know how he looks at reader

lyney and MC height difference before and after AAAAGGGGGGGGGGHHH IM ON MY KNEES theyre so cute

CH 4 | aether and paimon confronting reader

bonus fanart of lyney and reader after training :(( so cute

CH 5 | lyney seeing reader!!!!!! aahhh his eyes

lyney as a kid and then lyney now (grown up) THIS ONE IS INSANE. little lyney is so adorable but then look at the lyney now… 😵😵

CH 6 | LOOK AT THIS ONE!! scene of lyney saying “she’s hiding something” except akagi made him unnecessarily sexy wtf

CH 7 | drunk reader driving lyney crazy... (i went crazy)

CH 8 | "lyney's not my boyfriend" ; the ending scene with childe, aether, and reader!! they all look so good T__T

++ ADDITIONAL!!!

and look at this so so so adorable collection of doodles of chapter six by sunny @emanami !!! her artstyle is to live for its SO cute (look at the siblings!!!)

look at @lacrimae-lotos's version of mc!!!! SO CUTE look at her piercings and her eyes aahhhh

akagi's art dump from different chapters | theyre all so cutue im sobbing i love akagis mc and lyney so much T__T (LYNEY BRAIDING MC'S HAIR)

++ LOOK AT AKAGI'S VERSION OF MC! shes so lovely

design headcanons (theyre all so precious)

akagi's reader as a genshin char !!

reader's outfit for chapter seven SO PRETTY

TAGLIST.

@thenyxsky @aeferkssr @1mewo1 @lacrimae-lotos @meigalaxy @hyacinth-daze @miwafei @popochakku @svasilios @heyhazelnut101 @kruinka @waveto-earth @superstar-ethereal @mxplesyrvp @achilleas-dream @episodecete @jellifizz @auranny @motherscrustytoenailclippings @lovelyevil @iawaaaaaaa @rionah @esmetrees @cherryig @kzhwaif @mystiquemare @unknownlolol @sanluvssu @blvdmrcnry @kascar-chronicle @idontevenknow129 @tarathecogsci @lunavixia @beaniedoodz @wendolrea @avalordream @egoistars @rains-mae @magnificentfireball @poemzcheng @fiannee @ask-kurayami-akura @sc4rlett-letter @xxxion @wangshuu @deathkat657 @powchakko @beasalmeh, and many more!

just ask through my inbox!!! and make sure that people can tag you pls!!

#606: THAWED #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact #x reader #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney x y/n #genshin impact series

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matchagator · 1 year

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Clash | jjk (mature) Ch. 1

I've had a really fun time working on this story so far! Let me know what you think and if you're interested in reading more parts. I have SO many more ideas in store for these two, including some smut. 😈

{Main Pairings:} Jeon Jungkook x Female Reader

{Rating:} 18+

{Genre:} Slice of Life | Neighbors

{Summary:} You're a new resident in your very first apartment excited to enjoy the simple life of adulthood. Unfortunately for you, you continue to run into unruly neighbors no matter how much you try to keep to yourself.

{Warnings:} Mature Language, Enemies to Lovers, Hostility, Mild Angst, Sexual Tension (This list will be updated as each part gets released)

After successfully surviving your first week in your new apartment, you decide to celebrate by popping open a bottle of Stella Rosa to commemorate the start of your mid-twenties. You pour yourself a glass before cozying up to your favorite blanket, sparing no expense as you carry over a couple of slices of pizza that you just had delivered. You become eager to scroll through Netflix to find something new and entertaining to watch for the evening, finally enjoying a break from your tedious work schedule as you relish some time to yourself.

It isn’t long until you find something that catches your interest, opting for a romantic comedy to kick off your weekend as your favorite candle burns on your coffee table ahead. Finally, you didn’t have to answer to your family or share the apartment with roommates. This place was one hundred percent yours to enjoy and do as you wish.

The movie keeps you occupied for the majority of your meal, leaving you invested in the outcome of the plot. While romantic comedies were notorious for being overly predictable, you still enjoy them.

The gentle hum of your phone buzzing against the coffee table has you leaning forward to retrieve the device, gently tapping your fingers across the LED display to see a text message from your boss. Your eyes scan over the words that come up on your screen, pulling a long drawn-out groan from your lips as the message sinks in. Your boss wants you to come in early tomorrow to help catch up on overdue reports, causing tension to reappear in your posture as you toss your phone to the side.

You turn your attention back onto the screen, quickly thinking over whether or not you want to take on that responsibility since your weekend off was just commencing. Ultimately, you end up sighing and caving in, sending a compliant response given that your job was the only reason you could afford your new apartment in the first place. You might as well take the opportunity to stack up some overtime.

After checking the time on your phone, you glance back at your television screen, eager to at least finish your movie before calling it a night. You gently bring your wine glass up to your lips as you indulge in a couple more sips, finishing off the crusts of your pizza as you lay back to sink into the comfort of your couch cushions.

Your eyes study the characters on the television screen, enjoying the banter between the two main characters as you watch their relationship blossom. You can’t help but dwell on your last relationship, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth at the thought of your breakup.

You chug back the rest of your wine before a slow melodic thumping begins reverberating from the opposite side of your apartment wall. You glare at the material as if your stare could seep through the wall. You instantly shift your gaze onto the drywall, groaning at the thought of your neighbor insistently playing their music loudly at all different hours of the day since you’ve moved in. One morning, you woke up to Charlie Puth resonating through the thin barrier between your apartments while tonight they were enjoying a much more energetic melody of song selections.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You groan, as you lean forward to grab your remote, raising the volume to try and drown out the insufferable noise. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to camouflage the intrusive thumping, causing you to abandon any hope of enjoying the rest of your film. You can’t help but let a sigh escape your lips as you dramatically stand from the couch, collecting your trash and dishes before retreating into the kitchen.

Part of you wishes to go next door and give them a piece of your mind, however, you withhold since you have yet to meet them. What a chaotic introduction that would be. Despite your irritation with their lack of respect for your tranquility, you don’t necessarily want to start this milestone in your life with a feud next door.

Once you finish cleaning up, you retreat to your bedroom, eager to shower and get into bed for the night. As you move through your apartment, the noise from next door seemingly intensifies as you enter your bedroom. You pause at the door, groaning deeply at the realization that your neighbor’s room must be directly beside yours. “Seriously?”

You bite back your festering anger as you retreat to the shower, wasting no time hopping into the tub and turning on the faucet. Thankfully, the loud stream of water seems to muffle out the noise as your body relaxes beneath the warmth, letting the tension melt from your muscles as you finally unwind from the stress of your day.

While you usually take average-length showers, tonight your stay is a little longer than usual to keep yourself distracted from the ruckus in the apartment beside you. Eventually, the music would have to stop. It was the middle of the week, whatever their job was, it couldn’t possibly allow them to stay up past midnight on a Wednesday.

Once you successfully wash away your day, you slip out of the shower, wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel to dry your skin of the excess moisture. The moment the faucet shuts off, you’re met with the persistent sound of music pounding through the walls. You catch a glimpse of your features hardening through the mirror as you pull on your bathrobe, tying it off before drying your hair with the towel.

You shake your head as the next song arrives with more bass, causing you to make the split decision to dry your hair. Surely the blow dryer would cancel out the noise. To your surprise, the hum of the styling tool keeps you focused on your nightly routine, finishing up in the bathroom as you pass more time in hopes that when you get to bed, the music would be over.

Your feet end up dragging across your carpet as you toss yourself into bed, the comfort of your sheets swallowing you as the music calms with the introduction of a few melancholy tunes. You figure this is your best opportunity to fall asleep, wasting no time to set your alarm on your phone as you set it up to charge on your bedside table, before crawling into the sheets. You let yourself sink into the mattress and you turn on your side, hoping your mind will let you fall asleep quickly.

Luckily, the music remains smooth as your bed slowly lulls you into a peaceful sleep. Just as your mind begins to drift off, the thumping returns, another bass-heavy song blaring from next door causing a slight tremor to radiate across the wall. You tug your pillow over your head, pulling it down over your ears as you kick your legs in frustration, pouting into the pillow as you desperately try to ignore the unforgiving noise.

-----

Thanks to your stubbornness, you find yourself standing outside your jeep with your arms full of reusable grocery bags, completely crippling yourself from reaching back towards the keys that you tucked into your purse. You refuse to take another trip down to retrieve the rest of the totes, so you simply continue sliding them down the length of your arm, fully knowing it was going to be a heavy trip up to the seventh floor.

You contort your body uncomfortably as you utilize your elbow to push the button to latch the trunk close, watching the mechanisms of your vehicle automatically operate the door. You grin happily at your success, knowing that with everything stuffed into your arms, you wouldn’t need to take the extra trip down for a second load.

Thankfully as you walk away from the car, the sensor automatically locks your doors once your keys are at a farther distance. You quickly begin walking towards the door leading from the parking garage to the main lobby of your apartment complex, hoping someone else would come along to help open the door for you.

It’s as if your prayers are answered when a man appears from the opposite side of the garage, typing away on his cell phone as he makes his way toward the secured door. You quickly realize the distance you have compared to him and begin hustling toward the entrance.

“Hold the door!” You holler out, juggling your variety of different tote bags as you rush toward him. You hope that his chivalry will prevent you from needing to find your key fob from underneath the stacks of groceries cutting the circulation from your wrists.

You watch helplessly as a man with a grown-out mullet of curly hair taps his fob, a small tone indicating his granted access as he enters the building. You are desperately sprinting toward the door at this point, trying to sneak in behind him to make your life easier. Unfortunately, you’re stuck watching it close shut behind him, before you can even manage to catch up to him. You huff in annoyance as the man ahead of you completely ignores you, keeping his attention on his cell phone and disregarding the fact that you’re struggling to carry in the large load just a few feet behind him.

“Seriously?” You tut, completely unamused, that now you need to slide the handles of your bags down the length of your arms, just to reach back into your purse to pluck your keys from the front pocket. “Asshole! Can’t even hold a fucking door.” You mumble under your breath, performing a perfect balancing act as you lean over to press the fob against the sensor, lifting your leg to help pull open the front door of the main lobby.

You sigh once you finally make it inside, thrilled that you managed on your own as you begin the walk to the mailroom towards the back of the first floor. You figure since you’re already down here, why would you waste a trip up to your apartment just to venture back down to get the mail?

Maneuvering your way through the long corridor, you find the relatively large mailroom nestled in the back corner as you walk in, instantly seeking out the counter lining the wall by the door. You sigh in relief as the pressure is relieved from your limbs, placing your grocery bags up on the counter as you turn to face the various rows of mailboxes lining the far wall.

You fiddle with your keys before realizing that you aren’t alone, spotting the same mess of grungy hair poking through a mailbox as he collects the contents inside. You blink in surprise, your face unable to hide your annoyance with the stunt he just pulled back at the entrance. You chew on the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from retaliating and giving him a piece of your mind, figuring it was most likely better to just be on your way without any confrontation.

You adjust your posture, causing yourself to stand straight as you seek out your specific box, quickly inserting your key and tugging the compartment open to retrieve whatever lies within. Thankfully there was only a coupon booklet and a ‘Welcome to the Neighborhood’ flier stuffed within the small space, allowing you a simple addition to your already ambitious load upstairs.

Peering down at the flier, you start to study all of the local joints attempting to solicit your business as you feel a sudden nudge cause your balance to shift. You catch your footing as you peer up, coming face to face with the culprit from outside who refused to hold a simple door for you. First, he ignores you and now he runs into you as if he isn’t even paying attention.

Your irritation bubbles over as you grasp the paper tighter in your hand. “Watch where you’re going.” You hiss as you take a step back to properly face your assailant, a not-so-friendly expression plastering itself onto your features. You watch him pluck a headphone out of his ear, revealing the truth that he wasn’t blatantly ignoring you, he just couldn’t hear you. Your eyes flicker down to an envelope in his hand as you skim the print to find the name Jeon Jungkook labeled on the postage. Jungkook’s features tighten at the unforgiving tone in your voice, your eyes watching his jaw flex as he glances over the sight of you.

There’s something about the way Jungkook’s large expressive eyes bear into your soul that causes you to feel guilty for judging him too quickly. If his headphones were preventing him from hearing you outside, he must not have heard you come into the mailroom behind him. You shrink under his handsome stare, noticing every feature on his face as you stand close to him after accidentally colliding with you. Why did he have to be so handsome? Couldn’t you have snapped at anyone else?

“My apologies, princess.” Jungkook’s condescending tone instantly washes over any remorse you felt toward him, your irritation revving back as you pop out your hip, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “I didn’t hear you come in.” He was apologetic for colliding with you however, was annoyed by your short-tempered attitude.

“Well, maybe you should try only wearing one earpiece.” You suggest defensively, knowing that while he may not have heard you, it was his fault for compromising his senses in the first place.

You watch as Jungkook’s tongue presses against his cheek, his head tilting to the side as he chuckles in amusement. You can’t help but let your eyes wander to the pout on his lips, admiring the small freckle tucked beneath his bottom lip as he narrows his stare in your direction. You notice his pupils flick toward your groceries, a mischievous smirk tugging at his mouth.

“Maybe you should try being less lazy and taking multiple trips.” His words cause your jaw to hang open in disbelief. A stranger did not just call you lazy without even knowing anything about you. Who does he think he is?

“Excuse you.” You huff, completely perplexed by his crude disregard for a stranger.

Jungkook seems content in your reaction as he pushes past you unapologetically, allowing his steps to drip with swagger as he seeks the exit of the mailroom. You want to retaliate but find yourself temporarily speechless as your mind tries to wrap around the interaction you just shared with the attractive, yet infuriating man. “Someone’s in a shitty mood today.” You mumble under your breath as he walks away, assuming his headphone was back in his ear.

Unfortunately for you, Jungkook stops at the doorway, glancing back to get in one final word. “Yeah...” He grins before placing his headphone in his ear. “Seems like you’re in one.” With that, Jungkook waves you off by shaking the small pile of mail nestled in his hand through the air as he turns to walk back into the hallway.

You feel your body tense as you stare down the space that was once occupied by Jungkook, still baffled that you were so enraged by this random man. The smug look on his face still haunts you as you scoff, rolling your eyes as you move to retrieve your tote bags, grunting at the thought of making it upstairs. You tuck your mail into the side of one of the bags, sliding each bag on your arms as the weight strains against your muscles.

You take a deep breath before lifting the heavy load, quickly escaping from the mailroom to seek out the nearest elevator. You desperately want to make it to your apartment to neatly organize your groceries into their designated spot, eager to be rid of this tedious task.

-----

The next day, the gentle hum of your jeep’s engine causes your eyes to weigh heavy as you drive back home from a long day at work. You fight off the sting in your eyes from the numerous hours spent in front of a computer screen, thankful for a break as you make your way back to your slice of independence. Your radio is off as you drive past each intersection, your mind and body exhausted from yet another night of terrible sleep. If only your mysterious neighbor would take a night off from blasting music or movies to prevent you from falling asleep.

You groan as you rub a hand across your face, deciding the silence of the vehicle wasn’t helping you keep your focus on the road. You lean forward once you stop at a red light, switching on the stereo as your car instantly connects to the Bluetooth on your cell phone. You utilize the break from driving to select your favorite playlist from Spotify, picking your favorite road trip jams to help keep your mind engaged for the remainder of your ride home.

Thankfully the traffic is on your side as you approach the parking garage of your apartment building, the automatic door allowing you access once reading the signal of the fob tucked within the sun visor. You smile at the thought of soon being bundled in your bed, ready for a midday nap to help fight off the insufferable noise your neighbor insists on putting you through, day in and day out.

Usually, there aren't any spots available on the first floor once rush hour hits, however, once you turn the corner, you notice a vacant spot close to the main lobby entrance. A relieved smile pulls at the corners of your lips, knowing you aren’t in the mood to carry your laptop bag down two floors of the parking garage just to get inside.

You quickly accelerate in an attempt to claim the space, suddenly noticing a BMW whipping through the parking garage from the opposite direction, barreling towards the vacant parking spot. Given the distance between you both, it’s clear that the BMW would reach the space first if you didn’t act quickly. Your exhaustion leaves you to act rashly, rapidly pulling into the spot and cutting off the man cruising through the space. You suddenly feel guilty, however, your tired limbs overrule the emotion since you no longer have such a long way to trek to get upstairs.

You nervously chew on your bottom lip, peering up in your rearview mirror to vaguely see the man inside the vehicle waving his hand in disbelief, followed by a swift raise of his middle finger. You don’t dare retaliate, fully knowing you were in the wrong in that situation.

You grip your steering wheel with both hands, sinking in your seat as you raise a hand to wave back, mumbling to yourself since he can’t hear you from inside your car. “Sorry!” The roar of the BMW ignites behind you as the BMW spots a car pulling out not too far from your current parking space. You wait till he disappears, quickly grabbing your bag and purse, and turning off the ignition of your jeep to park. You open the door, quickly slipping out as you grip your keys tightly between your fingertips, desperate to get inside and avoid an awkward conversation.

You stumble around your jeep, moving toward the entrance door with your fob in hand, quickly tapping the sensor as you walk hastily to get inside. You feel the tension in your body simmer as you walk toward the elevators, leaving the previous events behind you. You maneuver your way through the elegantly decorated corridors, the fresh scent of your apartment building wafting around you as you drape your laptop bag over your shoulder.

You reach an inlet nestled between the various corridors that lead to the amenities offered by the complex, quickly pressing the call button as you shift your weight from one foot to the other. You notice that the elevator is currently on the tenth floor, groaning at your luck. Of course, it would be on the tallest floor of the building, leaving you waiting like a sitting duck. You grip the strap of your bag, tapping your foot impatiently before hearing a deep voice echo from behind you.

“Well, if it isn’t princess.” You blink before rotating your body, allowing your gaze to follow as you land on the image of the same man you encountered yesterday in the mailroom. The messy overgrown mullet is a dead giveaway that you’re talking to Jungkook, your eyes drop to find his keys with a BMW fob nestled in his hand. Your gaze follows up on his tattooed arm that was deliciously exposed beneath his oversized black t-shirt.

You quickly turn back away, closing your eyes at the audacity of the situation. Of all the residents you could’ve cut off, of course, it just had to be Jungkook. “Shit.” You whisper under your breath, adjusting your posture to stand taller as he moves to stand beside you.

“You almost hit me, you know.” His tone was serious, clearly agitated with you as his stare bores through the side of your skull. Jungkook notices your hesitance in offering him the courtesy of talking with him, shaking his head as he recalled your interaction from yesterday. “I didn’t realize calling you lazy would have you out for me.”

“Believe it or not, I had no idea that was you.” You don’t want him to think that you purposefully had it out for him, refusing to paint yourself as someone so petty.

Jungkook grins in amusement, passing his tongue over the shiny metal piercing latched on his bottom lip. “Oh, so you just cut everyone off?” He chuckles darkly as he offers you a mischievous glare. “I didn’t realize you were such a bitch.”

Your jaw drops once again, flabbergasted by his brazen remark. “I’m not a bitch.” You retaliate, inwardly recognizing that you weren’t exactly the most neighborly by cutting him off. You figure the least you could do was offer up an apology for acting so rashly. “I’m sorry, I just had a long day.”

Jungkook’s wide eyes evaluate your sincerity, noticing the exhaustion behind your pupils as you offer him a genuine apology. He turns his attention back to the closed elevator doors, tucking his lip piercing between his teeth. “Hey, I get it.” He wasn’t a stranger to long days or long nights at work and understood the feeling of exhaustion. Your features soften at his understanding, taking the opportunity to observe his appearance completely. When you aren't arguing, you were able to notice how undeniably handsome he is, his tattoos and piercing adding to his edgy persona despite the large soft eyes that were peering back at you.

Jungkook equally takes the opportunity to glance you over. His eyes traveling up and down your figure as he admires the way your dress hangs just above your lower thigh. You chew the inside of your cheek, suddenly feeling nervous.

“I��m Y/n.” You offer, keeping your hands clung to the straps of your bags as you offer him a smile in hopes of getting a truce.

Jungkook hesitates for a moment before adjusting his grip on the backpack around his arm. “Jungkook.” He answers softly. “Most people just call me JK.”

You nod before turning back to face the elevator, hating the awkwardness that was radiating between you both. He hums softly as silence falls upon the pair of you, the void is suddenly filled by the chime of the elevator. You watch as Jungkook gestures for you to go first, suddenly becoming a gentleman despite the past two interactions you shared.

You move swiftly into the elevator, watching as Jungkook follows, seeking out the operation panel as he glances back in your direction. “What floor?” He peers at you as he hovers his finger over the panel, waiting for you to answer.

“Um, seven.” You speak, suddenly feeling overwhelmed at the thought of the elevator door closing you into a tight space with Jungkook, a man who was equally as gorgeous as he was frustrating. Jungkook quickly presses the number seven before offering you a mischievous grin, sliding his finger down the length of the buttons as each one illuminates.

Your eyes become wide in horror, realizing that the elevator would now make a stop at every single floor on its way up to your apartment. “What are you doing?!” Your voice has a little more snap to it than you anticipate, your irritation bubbling over as a chuckle reverberates from his chest.

“Next time, don’t cut me off.” He offers you a devilish smile before pressing the button to have the elevator doors reopen just before they can fully shut.

You narrow your eyes, any hope of patching things up with him dissipating as you cross your arms in front of your chest. “What are you, four?” You mock, scolding him as if he was a young child playing with the elevator panel.

He shrugs his shoulders as he steps out of the elevator, glancing back at you as his hair hangs just above those bright brown eyes that seem to captivate you so effortlessly. He looks so handsome even though he was doing you dirty, allowing you to let your guard down around him. You could kick yourself. “Nah, I’m just bored.” He offers plainly, turning to seek out the door that leads to the stairs. “Enjoy your ride, princess.” He offers as he gives you a backhanded wave with his free hand, before using it to press open the door leading to the stairwell.

You watch him disappear as the doors slide shut in front of you, leaving you alone to process the childish interaction. “Fucking asshole.” You groan, feeling the frustration bubble over you as the elevator begins ascending to the next floor. You sigh as you feel the jolt of the elevator coming to a stop, the door opening to reveal a barren second floor. You move to the control panel, repeatedly pressing the close-door button, angry that your body is too exhausted to trek up seven flights of stairs. You are going to have to endure the endless opening and closing of the elevator doors, pressing your back into the wall as you let a frustrated growl escape your diaphragm.

-----

After a week of hiding out in your apartment and avoiding any more unfortunate interactions with the residents of your apartment complex, you decide it’s time for a much-needed day of relaxation. You tug on your favorite beach coverup, the kimono style article hanging off your curves while it conceals your favorite swimsuit. You shift around your apartment, walking toward the kitchen to retrieve something refreshing to consume in the summer heat sweltering outside.

Your eyes scan over the selection, landing on a glass bottle of calypso lemonade as your mouth seemingly salivates at the thought of drinking it. You happily pluck it from its place on the shelf, tossing it into your tote bag before turning to grab your keys from the counter. Thankfully for a weekend, your next-door neighbor seems to have given their obnoxious music a break, leaving a pleasant silence in the span of your apartment.

You hum contently as you make your way out into the hallway, turning to lock your door swiftly after stepping on your decorative mat. A dark object pulls your attention as you peer toward your noisy neighbor's apartment door, noticing a black gym bag tossed carelessly into the corner of the hallway. Apparently, your neighbor believes that since they hold the corner lot, they think they can utilize that corner space for storage. You roll your eyes before turning to make your way toward the elevator, eager to seek the comfort of a day at the pool.

Most of the trip down is spent browsing through your social media catching up on the latest celebrity news and the endlessly exciting lives of your friends and coworkers. You notice yet another engagement and pregnancy announcement while you’re mindlessly enjoying the single life. You roll your eyes as the elevator tone indicates your arrival at the main lobby, placing the device into your tote bag to avoid any more mental comparisons about your life and your friends.

You end up strolling past most of the recreational amenities, utilizing the time to thoroughly observe each one as you walk down the length of the corridor. You pass by a lounge with a pool table and coffee machine, quickly glancing at a sign that reads ‘Free Coffee and Cookies 24/7 for Residents’. Your eyes widen at the sight, knowing that would surely be a perk you’d take advantage of. You continue down the hallway, passing an Internet cafe and a fully equipped gym. You smile brightly, knowing that you’ll utilize the gym instead of always going out on a run.

The thought of the gym instantly reminds you of the bag outside your neighbor’s door, your curiosity peaking as you peer through the glass windows in an attempt to see if anyone is inside. Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be anyone there, leaving you clueless once more about your mysterious neighbor.

With a shrug of your shoulders, you continue down the corridor to a door that leads outside into a courtyard that was completely surrounded by the towering buildings of your complex. It created a perfect rectangle in the center of the lot, left open to the sunshine as you glance around the beautifully tiled lanai.

There’s a small stone fire pit in the far left corner of the space, lounge chairs and hammocks spread about for the enjoyment of the residents. There’s even a small bar and kitchen area available for rent in case anyone ever wants to host close to home. It was in moments like these that you felt accomplished, thrilled to know that your efforts to advance in your career allowed you to settle into a place like this. If only the crazy neighbors weren’t included.

You strut happily through the courtyard, noticing a few residents moving about as you keep your eyes focused on a special lounge chair perfectly placed beneath the shade of an umbrella. What you didn’t notice was that in the pool were Jungkook and his coworker, Taehyung, casually tossing about a volleyball for their enjoyment.

It didn’t take long for Jungkook and Taehyung’s gaze to find the sight of a young woman making her way towards the pool, your outfit drawing their attention. “Damn, JK. You got that walking around yet you're still single?” Taehyung teases, watching you set your bag back and settle into the lounge chair as he tosses the volleyball back toward Jungkook.

Jungkook simply shrugs his shoulders as he effortlessly catches the ball, peering back at you only to catch a glimpse of your backside. It isn’t until you take a seat in the lounge that he catches a glimpse of your features, recognizing you from your last two encounters.

“Yeah, trust me. I don’t need that one.” Jungkook scoffs as he tosses the ball into the air, spiking it down toward Taehyung. Taehyung narrows his eyes in Jungkook’s direction, retrieving the ball before twisting it within the confinement of his hands.

Taehyung glances between you and Jungkook, noticing the tension exuding from his friend and coworker. “What’s that about? Bad hookup or something?”

Jungkook laughs sarcastically as he motions with his hand for Taehyung to spike it back, shifting his feet beneath the water as he prepares to block the incoming object. “She wishes.”

He grins mischievously at the thought of putting you in your place while he fucks the living daylights out of you, lucid images of getting you to shut your mouth in sexually creative ways plaguing his mind. He shakes off his imagination as he retrieves the volleyball that comes flying towards his body, gripping it tightly between his large hands.

Meanwhile, you find yourself comfortably lounged about in your chair with your towel draped beneath you, allowing your skin to soak up the rays of the sun. Your tranquility falters slightly each time you hear the spiking of the volleyball against the water, however, you muffle out the sound by playing your music softly from your phone to not disturb anyone around you.

The heat of the afternoon kisses your skin as you lean down to retrieve the bottle of lemonade from your tote bag, eager for a refreshing treat to quench your building thirst. You grip the neck of the bottle as you twist open the cap, a satisfying pop allowing you to tug off the metal piece as you bring the bottle to your lips to down a sizable gulp of the sweet yet sour liquid.

You smack your lips happily, leaning your head back to enjoy the peace and quiet as your back presses into the half-raised lounge chair. The umbrella provides you with just the right amount of shade as you begin sunbathing, completely oblivious to the company just a few feet away from you.

A good while passes, your phone scrolling through your summer playlist as Jungkook and Taehyung continue chatting and enjoying a few more tosses of their volleyball. “Wanna grab hibachi after this?” Taehyung offers as the ball travels back towards Jungkook, flying clear over his head as he dives in to swim after it. His toned limbs row effortlessly through the water, his tattooed arm distinguishing him from his friend as he snags the floating ball before it drifts farther away.

“Yeah, sounds good.” Jungkook’s eyes swell against his cheeks at the thought of delicious food before he walks through the resistance of the water to get closer to Taehyung. He holds out the ball, preparing his opposite hand to punt it back in his direction before his eyes catch a glimpse of you sitting up. He studies your movements, watching as you bring your bottle back to your lips for another sip.

His lips tug into a mischievous smirk, aiming his hand past Taehyung toward your unsuspecting self, swiftly sending his hand forward to send the ball in your direction. You’re too preoccupied to notice the incoming object until it’s too late, a small screech escaping your lips as the ball smacks into the arm that's holding your drink.

The impact causes you to lose your grip on the glass, watching it drop into your lap as the sting of the ball radiates against your forearm. Your eyes widen as you notice the volleyball, glancing up to see two men staring in your direction from the pool.

A stupid grin stretches across Jungkook’s lips as he waves over to you. “My bad.” He offers half-assed, before watching the ball roll back toward the pool. He lunges forward, swimming quickly to reach the opposite end of the pool that is only a few feet away from you as you suddenly notice exactly who is swimming towards you.

“Seriously?” You groan, lifting your sunglasses to send your glare blaring at him. He simply grins as you observe the way his muscle top hangs loosely on his frame from the weight of the water.

You watch his large eyes sparkle with pride as he retrieves the ball, a laugh erupting from his diaphragm as he notices the sticky blue liquid dripping from your lap. “Happy accident.” He assures you, challenging your glare despite the amusement dancing behind his pupils.

You roll your eyes at the bullshit he’s trying to pull on you, lifting the now-empty bottle as you set it down beneath your chair. “Yeah, accident my ass.” You grumble under your breath as you lean sideways to grab the extra towel you packed in your bag in case you want to go for a swim. You move to wipe up your lap, only to realize the liquid completely seeped through your coverup.

Jungkook turns to make his way to Taehyung who is desperately biting back his laughter as Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. You give up on salvaging the piece of clothing, standing up from your seat before crossing your arms to peel off the cover-up.

Jungkook turns around just at the right moment, catching you mid-action as you tug the clothing over your head, revealing the delicious sight of your body in your sexiest black two-piece. Jungkook’s eyes widen at the sight, his mind plummeting into his sexual fantasies as your swimsuit leaves little to his imagination. “Fuck.” He huffs under his breath, turning around to avoid any other intrusive thoughts about you. It was bad enough that he had to put up with you, let only be physically attracted to you.

Jungkook shifts his attention to their towels and belongings, moving to pull himself out of the water to put away the culprit of your unfortunate spill. You toss your soiled coverup to the side, utilizing your towel to clean up as you watch Jungkook grab a blue towel, using it to wipe off his face and hair as he places the volleyball down beside their things.

You smack your lips as you narrow your eyes in his direction, your irritation doing little to prevent your mind from ogling over the sight of his now see through muscle top, exposing his perfectly sculpted abdomen through the sheer veil. A shiver courses through your body from the anger and the arousal, feeling yourself become irrationally petty about the man you can’t seem to escape.

Jungkook quickly runs to jump back into the pool once the volleyball is tucked away, leaving you with the perfect opportunity to be spiteful. You glance down at your body, feeling the sticky residue of the lemonade as you decide to head to the bathrooms to clean up. You grab your cell phone before sliding on your sandals, moving with purposeful steps toward Jungkook’s belongings.

Taehyung currently has Jungkook in a playful chokehold as the pair begin roughhousing, distracting them from the sight of you stomping toward Jungkook’s towel, instantly grabbing the fabric before tossing into the pool.

The men pause their actions as Jungkook glares in your direction, his long hair hanging in his eyes before he slicks his hair back to get a better view. “What the hell?” He growls, pushing Taehyung off of him as he moves to grab his towel that is slowly soaking up water and sinking beneath the surface.

“Man, the breeze is just so strong today.” You tut in satisfaction, giggling from the frustration invading his features. “Maybe you should weigh it down next time.” You add before turning on your heel to seek out the restroom. You hear the sudden sound of water dripping against the tile of the lanai, only assuming that Jungkook was ringing out his towel. You grin to yourself as you disappear inside, refusing to give him the satisfaction of glancing back toward him.

You disappear inside the lobby as you dash toward the women’s room, eager to cleanse your body from the residue causing your thighs to stick together. You move straight to the sink, twisting on the tap as you reach for the soap, eager to lather up the suds to rub against your abdomen and thighs, sighing as you glance in the mirror to spot your disheveled appearance.

This was all thanks to Jungkook. Why did he insist on being such a brat every single time you saw him? Your thoughts cause you t0 halt as you find your eyes in the mirror, realizing that you’ve equally been a brat around him. You were just as guilty as causing this feud in the first place. You sigh, knowing that this would only continue getting worse until one of you apologizes. Unfortunately for Jungkook, you had no intention of being the first to do such a thing.

You grab a handful of paper towels, rubbing the material over your skin to remove any excess soap before tossing the remnants into the trash, bringing your hands up to smooth out the flyaways from the top of your head, taking in your figure before turning to head outside.

You open the door to the corridor, rolling back your shoulders to create a false appearance of confidence, refusing to step outside with any sign of defeat exposing itself on your body. You turn the corner to reach for the door that leads outside until you feel your leg slide out from beneath you, causing you to fall.

Your breath gets knocked out of you as your back collides with the tile flooring, leaving an ache against your backside. You pause for a moment, feeling a tight tension in your neck as you strain to keep your head from slamming back. “Fuck…that hurt…” You whimper as you gently let your head rest against the tile, watching your chest concave with each breath to compensate for the sudden impact.

You bring your hands up to your face, running your palms up to push back your hair as you take a moment to collect yourself. You suddenly hear the echo of footsteps, letting your head roll to the side as you notice a pair of toned legs approaching you. Your eyes scan up the figure to spot a thin waist decorated in the same wet muscle shirt that Jungkook was wearing. You blink as your eyes keep traveling up to find his arm of tattoos.

Jungkook has a cookie hanging from between his teeth as his hands balance two coffees. His brow raises as he observes the sight of you splattered against the ground. He moves one of his occupied hands to his mouth, retrieving the cookie between two fingers as he chews the bite. “What happened to you?”

You move to push yourself up, your hands sliding against the tile as you realize that there are droplets of water decorating the floor. You glance back toward Jungkook, realizing that his body is still dripping wet from the pool as if he put zero effort into drying himself off before going inside.

“I slipped on your fucking puddles.” You snap, realizing that once again, Jungkook was the culprit of your misery. “Didn’t you dry off?”

Jungkook’s triumphant grin causes your cheeks to flush red as he casually shrugs his shoulders. “I would’ve, but someone threw my towel in the pool.” He speaks nonchalantly as he moves forward, raising his leg to step over you. You instinctually duck down as he mindlessly walks over you, moving to push open the door with his back given his hands were still occupied.

You stare at him in utter shock, stunned that he would leave you on the ground without at least offering you a hand. Before you can get another word out, he moves his hand up to his lips, eager to take another bite of his cookie. “Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it, princess?” He chuckles youthfully as he escapes back out to the lanai, leaving you on the ground feeling infuriated and defeated once again.

Once you’re alone, you grunt as you bring your hands down to your sides, slamming your palms against the tile in frustration. You gently pick yourself up, knowing you will need to walk back out to face the scrutinizing stare of both Jungkook and his handsome friend. You take a moment to collect yourself, pausing as you reach the door leading outside to take a deep breath, reluctantly facing your inevitable doom.

-----

The slow-building ache in your stomach causes you to groan in discomfort as you lean your body weight into the shopping cart in front of you, slowly stepping through the aisles of your local pharmacy. You peer down each row as you search for feminine hygiene products, utilizing your cart as a crutch while you familiarize yourself with your new neighborhood pharmacy.

Thankfully like many others, the layout was quite simple, leaving you a clear path to wrap around the store towards the back area. You catch a glimpse of brightly colored bags lining one of the aisles, instantly halting your steps as your mouth begins to salivate at the sight of an unlimited choice of candy and chocolates.

You fight off the building temptation to venture down to browse their selection of sweets, determining it was probably better to simply b-line for the back and avoid the intake of additional calories. You take a few steps before your stomach begins to rumble in protest, the hunger outweighing your resolve to follow your healthy eating habits as you pivot back around.

A smile stretches across your face as you gently drag your tongue against your bottom lip, your irises instantly latching onto the sight of the large selection of chocolate bars. You shamelessly debate your options before reaching for your all-time favorite, grabbing a couple of bars to toss into your basket.

You feel the discomfort of your cramps intensify as you resume your quest towards the back of the store, knowing the longer you spent roaming around, the more your cart would fill with things you most definitely didn’t need to purchase.

To keep your mind occupied, you start humming along to the music being projected overhead, matching each of your steps to the beat of the music as you sway your hips from side to side. You spot the next aisle marker, noticing the sign hanging above the shelving as you stumble across the section of the store you actually came for.

Just as you start turning the corner, you pause as your eyes settle upon a familiar sleeve of tattoos, specific designs standing out to you as you trace the pattern of a snake near the man’s wrist. You trail your eyes up to spot the blue words that read “bulletproof” just below his elbow, instantly taking a few steps back to retreat into the aisle to hide from Jungkook.

What the hell was he doing here? It was at least a couple of days since your last interaction at the pool. Why did he have to be at this very pharmacy on this specific day? You peer your head around the corner, watching as he glances over a selection of hand-support braces often used by athletes. You raise a brow, suddenly curious to find out why he would need such a thing.

You find yourself waiting impatiently for him to disappear off into a different section of the store, so you can quickly move to retrieve a box of your usual tampons. The last thing you want from this evening is to cross paths with Jungkook while you’re out making such a personal purchase.

You decide to hug the sides of the store, walking past the refrigerated section to seek out the cashiers in the front. Your eyes look for a distraction as you peer over the selection of ice creams and frozen pizzas, suddenly craving both to indulge in as your dinner. You nibble gently on your bottom lip, debating the purchase in your mind as you recall everything remaining in your fridge that you could possibly cook. The mere thought of cooking causes you to groan, wishing you could simply crawl into bed with a heating pad and a delicious pizza to enjoy a simple night in.

The fall in your resolve comes when you notice your favorite flavor of ice cream, licking your lips as you pull the case open to retrieve a small pint alongside your favorite type of pizza. You hum happily, deciding that you’ve worked out enough this week to splurge on something quick and easy for dinner.

As you place the items in your cart, you glance up to find the sight of Jungkook making his way into the refrigerated section, leaving you scrambling to turn around and head in the opposite direction. You feel ridiculous for being so paranoid about crossing paths with him, yet feel immensely relieved when he stops in front of one of the cases to look over a few drink selections.

You take that as your cue to dash down the snack aisle, ready to check out and head back home. Unfortunately for you, you aren’t paying attention when you arrive at the front of the store, colliding with another shopper’s cart. You are too busy glancing back to make sure that Jungkook is not following you, that you didn’t notice the incoming patron, cringing internally at the loud bang your cart caused against theirs.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” You quickly tug your cart back, feeling your cheeks flush a deep shade of crimson as the older woman glares at you with an unmatched irritation. The sudden desire to crawl beneath a rock comes from the disapproving glare the middle-aged woman flashes in your direction as you watch her smack her lips before turning down the refrigerated aisle.

You bring a hand up to your face, dragging your palm down the length of your face as you internally cringe. The embarrassment leaves you swirling in your anxieties as a low chuckle reverberates from behind you.

“Nice one, Klutz.” Jungkook is suddenly standing beside you, amused to find that you are the reason behind the sudden commotion in the pharmacy. The wide goofy grin on his features leaves you irritated beyond belief, groaning that you now pulled attention to yourself when all you wanted was to disappear.

“Fuck you.” You instinctually reply, knowing your reaction is wildly over dramatic. You chew on the inside of your cheek, quickly trying to think of anything you can throw back in his face. Your eyes settle on the small case of yellow boxes nestled against his side, your eyes widening at the sight of banana milk. “Aw cute, did you drive all the way here for your little juice boxes?” You retaliate, utilizing your best infant vocal inflections to tease the gorgeous man staring you down.

Jungkook’s jaw visibly tightens at your mocking tone, tonguing the inside of his cheek as his large bug eyes drop to the contents of your shopping cart. Two could play that game. He wasted no time observing the ice cream, candy bars, and pizza scattered about the basket, his eyes stopping upon the box of tampons. “Chocolate and tampons…is that why you’re acting like a raging bitch?”

You feel your jaw drop open, something that Jungkook constantly seems to cause as you blink off your surprise. “Excuse me?”

Jungkook simply grins at your flustered reaction, adjusting his grip on the case of banana milk as he continues toward the register, obnoxiously content with himself. “You’re excused.” He hums happily, bumping into your shoulder as he passes by. “Make sure not to run anyone else over, alright princess?”

You scoff at his words, turning around to face him as you notice him waving a hand back at you as he focuses on greeting the cashier. “Fucking asshole.” You mumble under your breath, feeling angry about his smug attitude and the building pain from your cramping uterus. You sigh, admitting your momentary defeat as you join the opposite queue for a different cashier.

Keeping your eyes down, you focus on the items in your cart, fighting the urge to peek up at Jungkook to see if he cared to spare a look in your direction. The man irritates you beyond belief, so why are you secretly hoping that he’s watching you? You bite your bottom lip nervously, caving into your temptation to glance back in his direction. To your surprise, you meet his eyes, instantly feeling the heat rush back to your cheeks. Is it because you’re blushing or that the gorgeous man infuriates you?

Jungkook pins you with his dark pupils as you suffocate beneath his stare, sharing an odd mixture of electricity and rage as you peel your eyes away to meet the cashier. He does the same, both of you focusing on your transactions as your items get bagged up while you pluck your credit card out from your wallet to pay.

You tap the small piece of plastic onto the payment terminal, hearing the soft tone that causes you to pull it back, watching the screen process your card. As you wait, you hear Jungkook thank the cashier before grabbing his items and making his way out of the store. Just as he goes to step out of the automatic doors, he flashes you another daring glare, raising his eyebrows mischievously before disappearing outside.

With a click of your tongue, you push your wallet back into your bag, glancing at the cashier who is holding out your receipt with a friendly smile. “Have a wonderful day.” You hear them say as you mindlessly collect your bags, still hyper-focusing on the front door, watching Jungkook walk off toward the array of parked cars.

“Thanks, you too.” You speak your words without offering them eye contact, quickly following after Jungkook as if you are paranoid that he will mess with your car or try something to get you back for all of your recent encounters.

Thankfully, you spot his messy overgrown mullet climbing into his BMW, the tension in your muscles relaxing as you walk off toward your jeep. You curl an arm to retrieve your keys from the side pocket of your bag, hearing the slight jingle as you pull them from their confinement. Your fingers press the top button of the fob, hearing your engine ignite before another button has your trunk door opening automatically. You quickly swing into the trunk, pressing the side button as it begins closing itself.

Just as you turn to approach the driver’s side door, Jungkook’s black BMW speeds by, blaring his car horn which causes you to jump in fear. You clutch a hand to your chest, feeling the rapid thumping of your heart within your ribcage as you glare back toward Jungkook’s car that was exiting onto the main road. You growl beneath your breath, only imagining Jungkook’s wide bunny smile as he drives away in gratification.

You climb into your SUV, simply wanting to be home so you can sink away into the comforts of your sheets. You move the gear shift back as you pull out from the parking spot, flipping on your radio as your phone automatically connects to the dashboard. You let another drawn-out sigh escape your lips as you pull out of the parking lot, turning to stop at the streetlight leading back out to the main road.

Luckily your apartment complex is only a few blocks away, allowing you little time to dwell on your stomach pains before arriving at the intersection leading to the parking garage. You suddenly snap out of your thoughts, noticing the car in front of you was the familiar black BMW from earlier, rolling your eyes as your peer through the tinted window to spot the outline of Jungkook’s body. “Great.” You mumble under your breath, pulling in behind him as you click the fob on your sun visor to keep the garage door open behind him.

You notice a spot by the entrance to the lobby, watching as Jungkook smoothly backs into the space to claim it as his own. You avoid eye contact with him as you drive farther down, grabbing a spot not too far beyond the entrance as your own. You take a moment to yourself before turning off the ignition, getting out of the car to collect your purchases from the back, and watching as Jungkook disappears within the building.

Locking up your car, you keep your keys in your hand as you walk towards the main entrance, tapping over the sensor as you enter the familiar lobby. You only hope that once you get upstairs that your next-door neighbor is gone, allowing you a moment of peace without their need to be so noisy all hours of the day.

Your shoes tap against the tile as you turn towards the elevators, pausing in your steps as you notice Jungkook is still waiting for the next available cart. You figure he would have already caught the next elevator by now, but of course, as your luck would have it, you are stuck enduring him for a little longer. You awkwardly walk up behind him, making sure to keep your distance as you lean against the wall, refusing to make eye contact with him.

It’s suddenly uncomfortable in the lobby, both you and Jungkook clearly attempting to refrain from making any more jabs at each other. Despite the awkwardness in the air, you can’t help but flicker your gaze in his direction. He’s dressed in simple oversized clothes, concealing the delicious figure you witnessed the other day at the pool. His hair is tossed about as he keeps his gaze on the closed elevator doors, his tongue fiddling with the metal hoop piercing along his bottom lip.

For a moment, you look him over, wondering what your interactions would have been like if you didn’t get off on the wrong foot. Would you have simply said hello and moved on? Would you have possibly become friends? Despite the variety of scenarios in your head, you settle on the fact that despite his obnoxious personality, he is in fact a very handsome individual. His features seem soft as you continue to observe him from afar, noticing the glimmer in his large eyes as the elevator tone indicates its arrival.

You watch him walk into the space, hesitating before following after him, your eyes meet as you join him. The eye contact instantly reminds you why you didn’t like each other, his judgmental glare matching yours as you scoff at his presence. You watch him press the number seven, the tension only growing between the pair of you as the doors threaten to close. “Seven, right?”

“Yeah.” You’re surprised that he remembers, your throat suddenly feels immensely dry as your voice cracks, wishing you could face-palm yourself as embarrassment attacks you once more. The corner of Jungkook’s mouth pulls into a smirk as he peers back at you. You feel your breathing pick up as you get lost in his surprisingly soft stare. You catch yourself staring at each other, Jungkook equally surprised by the way you both seem to be hypnotized by each other.

The elevator tone pulls Jungkook back from his thoughts as he clears his throat. His fingers hover over the call panel, your curiosity peaking as you watch to see which floor he will press for himself. “On second thought, I’ll take the stairs.” His voice pulls your attention as he awkwardly slips out of the elevator, recalling that not twenty minutes ago you were bantering with each other at the pharmacy. He wasn’t ready to handle an awkward elevator ride up with you confined in a small space.

“What?” You blink off your surprise as Jungkook glances back at you, grinning coyly as he moves towards the stairs.

“You already attacked one innocent person today. I don’t want to take my chances.” He teases, leaving you smacking your lips in disbelief.

“Seriously?” He would rather walk up the stairs instead of trusting that you can behave yourself in a short elevator ride. You pop out your hip and place your hand against your waist, shaking your head as a bright airy chuckle escapes his lips.

He pushes open the door, getting one last word in before disappearing inside the stairwell. “Never trust a bitch on her period.”

With that, the elevator door closes leaving you alone to ponder what just transpired. He did not just seriously ditch you for the stairs, and call you a bitch again? You stomp your foot in frustration just as a child would, letting your annoyance manifest as you feel the elevator start to move. You try to calm yourself down with a few soothing breaths, knowing your hormones are all out of whack and it was best to ignore Jungkook while focusing on getting home.

-----

The soft vibrations of your next-door neighbor's music pulse through the connecting wall of your bedroom as you mindlessly scroll through the various platforms of social media on your phone. Your bedroom television is playing through episodes of your favorite sitcom to try and drown out the noise from next door, testing your patience as you indulge in bites of the candy bar you purchased earlier. Your eyes flicker up at the clock on your phone, groaning once realizing that it was already nine o’clock and your neighbor seems nowhere near calling it a night.

You kick your legs in front of you out of frustration, tossing your phone to the side before slamming your hands down on the plush duvet as you let a drawn-out groan escape your lips. You feel your muscles become increasingly tense as the slow thumping morphs into a strong pattern of electronic beats. You roll your eyes, bringing your candy back to your lips as you sink your teeth down into the sweet fix, the taste soothing you as you teeter on the edge of your sanity.

Your eyes shift toward the television screen, hoping that by focusing on the sitcom, your mind might grow used to the background noise and drown out the insufferable sounds. You let the chocolate delight melt against your tongue as you savor your indulgent snack, tuning out your neighbor's music as much as possible, knowing you will need to try to sleep soon after your exhaustion from the day.

A comforting warmth radiates against your stomach as you adjust the heating pad that is nestled against your lap, thankful that the pain relievers are beginning to kick in. You hear a soft hum from beside you, hearing your cell phone vibrate against your comforter as you slowly lift the device to your face. Your eyes instantly settle on the name of your best friend, your lips gently pulling into a smile as you tap your screen to accept her call.

“Hey, Roxanne.” You mumble into the phone, feeling exhaustion weighing on your limbs as you sit back against your pillows.

“Y/n? What are you doing?” You hear your best friend's energetic voice over the phone as she questions the slow melodic thumping unfortunately being heard through the phone.

You let out a sarcastic laugh before reaching for another bite of your chocolate bar. “I’m at home, why?”

“Girl, it’s a Friday night. You should be out partying with us.” Roxanne has a judgmental tone to her voice as you roll your eyes, knowing the last thing you want to do is to be out at clubs in a mini dress while your stomach is cramping uncontrollably.

“I’m perfectly happy sitting my ass in bed for tonight.” You tease, attempting to give Roxanne a bit of sass to lighten your mood.

You hear a lighthearted chuckle on the opposite end of the telephone, causing the tension in your body to relax as you melt back into your mattress. “So how’s the new apartment?” She hums through the phone as you shift your position in bed.

,“It’s great.” You bite your lip as you process your words wondering if they are your reality or a lie that you’ve been trying to tell yourself. You glance around your room, settling in the fact that you do love your apartment. It’s modern and new with an amazing view of the courtyard from your balcony. The complex itself has amenities you could only wish to afford on your own and the lifestyle you’ve created for yourself is exactly what you hoped for. So why were you questioning the authenticity of your answer?

The reverberations through your wall reminds you of not only your next door neighbor, but Jungkook, who seems to lurk about the complex and run into you whenever it is most inconvenient for you. The thought of him causes you to grumble, taking your noisy neighbor over his smug ass comments any day.

“That’s good. So when are you inviting me over?” Roxanne teases, causing you to roll your eyes playfully.

“Want to come over tomorrow?” You quickly add, knowing any company would be the exact distraction you need.

You grin at her confirmation, suddenly feeling excited for tomorrow as her voice echoes over the telephone. “Let’s invite Lisa as well. We can make it a girls night!” You ponder the thought for a moment, imagining all three of you drinking wine and watching movies together as you gossip about the latest drama in your lives.

“Sounds perfect.” You beam, feeling eager to fall asleep so that the evening could arrive sooner.

Just as you’re finishing your conversation, you hear a series of low groans echoing through your bedroom walls. You pause in your conversation, listening in carefully as the deep sound only becomes louder and seemingly more strained. Your cheeks instantly flush crimson at the realization of the noise, hearing the breathy moans coming from your next-door neighbor.

At least now you know that your neighbor is a male, or at least that’s what you’re assuming. Heck, for all you know, maybe your neighbor has a guy over and they are banging it out on the opposite side of your bedroom wall. You can only imagine how loud they actually are being since your walls aren’t that thin.

“What the hell are you listening to?” You hear Roxanne comment before bringing your attention back to your phone. “Y/n? Are you with someone right now?”

Her serious tone instantly causes you to become flustered, embarrassment taking over your limbs as you swallow back the growing knot in your throat. “Oh my God, no!” You quickly defend, sending your fist slamming into your bedroom wall in hopes the sudden jolt would cause your neighbor to stop whatever unholy actions from occurring in their bedroom. “It’s coming from my neighbors, I swear.” You add in a panicked state. “I swear they are loud as fuck.”

Roxanne only laughs at your discomfort, her usual brazen demeanor living for the drama. “Oh…kinky.” You practically face palm at her comment as the grunts continue, causing your embarrassment to morph into annoyance.

You suddenly hear the music increase in volume which only sends you into a rage. Of course no other neighbor would complain about them given they had a corner lot. The only person stuck listening to their insufferable nonsense was you, and you were about done. “Listen, I’ll text you. I gotta take care of something.”

Before Roxanne can respond, your finger taps the end call button, tossing your phone to the side as you peel your covers from over your limbs to crawl out of bed. You are in a loose band t-shirt and a pair of comfy leggings, however, you don’t seem to think twice about your appearance as you storm out of your bedroom towards your front door. You’ve about had it with the insistent music and you were ready to speak your mind. All you want is one night of peace and quiet, something your neighbor seems to not understand.

Once you reach the door leading out into the hallway, you yank it open, steam practically seeping from your nostrils as your fist meets the door of your neighbor’s lot. You bang you fist loudly a few times, knowing the only way your neighbor would hear it is if you were obnoxious about it. You pause for a moment, hearing the music get turned down a bit as you send another series of knocks against the material of the door.

“Hello?!” You question sarcastically, fully knowing someone was home. You don’t care if you ruined their evening of sex or whatever they were up too. You were fed up with the noise and you fully plan on giving them a piece of your mind. “Hello?!” You speak again, your voice becoming increasingly louder.

You hear the lock mechanism engage as your eyes study the seam of the door frame. You’re eager to discover the face behind all of the commotion, ready to give whomever your neighbor is an earful after so many disturbances.

As the door squeaks open, you feel your jaw drop open at the sight that greets you on the opposite side. Your eyes instantly devour the image of a wonderful toned abdomen with a chiseled waist, completely bare of clothing as sweat glistens off the tanned skin. You feel your throat tighten at the arousing sight, a pair of basketball shorts hanging loosely off his hips with a pair of Calvin Klein boxers peeking from the waistband.

Your pupils rake up the man’s body until you come across the familiar glimmer of the hoop gently hanging on his bottom lip, the usual fluffy mess of hair pulled back in a man bun as you pause upon Jungkook’s large doe eyes. “Fuck.” You can’t hold back the reaction, watching as it helplessly jumps from your lips before gently tucking your bottom lip within your teeth.

You notice the irritation on his face as he leans his tattooed arm against the top of the doorframe, leaning forward to hover his face closer to yours. “I didn’t have you pinned for a stalker. How the hell did you find my apartment?” He groans, eyeing you up and down as you instinctually cross your arms over your chest to close yourself off from him.

Your mind whirls from the discovery, internally screaming at the fact that of all the people in this apartment complex, Jungkook was your neighbor. You smile sarcastically as you release one of your arms from around your chest, waving your hand in a dramatic gesture as you pop out your hip. “I’m your neighbor…” You admit, watching his facial features morph from amusement to dread.

Jungkook lets his hand drop from the top of the doorframe, stepping back to process your words as he groans in frustration. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #bts imagines #bts fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #bts smut

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pupcuck · 1 day

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black water - one !

ft. og4!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. cop!leon, corruption, mentions of harassment/rape/drugs, body horror, raccoon city incident never happened but there r bioweapons, suicide ideation bc leon, character death, there’s smut in later chapters i promise, public sex, creampie, hate sex, slapping, choking, gore descriptions

note. hi trying something new! i know raccoon city is in the midwest somewhere but to be frank idgaf ab the usa and know nothing about any part of it so i decided that it’s a southern state in this fic bc i wanted to make reader have the cute accent bc she’s a farmer :3 only the first chapter so like um this is honestly just more of a test to see if anyone would like this erm smut comes soon prommy.. reader implied poc but like um :3 PLEASE GIMME FEEDBACK N IGNORE MISTAKES!!

summary. there is something in the water, you want it gone before it eats more than just your livelihood.

You know pigs, so you know men.

This one has blue eyes, it is the type of blue you’d dip your toes into, you let the waves lap at your calves until it drags you under. His gaze taps a gun to the back of your head and demands full attention.

He is subjecting you to himself, and you hate it.

The glint of his blue-gold badge is nebulous in the dark. “Officer Leon S. Kennedy.” He offers you a look at his ID card - has the sort of face that lets him get away with things. “Criminal Investigations Department.”

Beside him, a dog with intelligent eyes stands sentinel. Officer Kennedy drops the leash and the dog sits back on its haunches. “Now, what’s this about pigs?”

The RPD is one great big circle jerk. Brian Iron’s doctrine is an easy one to follow, and Leon is not opposed to easy. His innards spill into the middle of it all as the lump in his throat dislodges, adding to the slurry of toxic waste that coats their blackened underbelly.

There is a horrible liminal quality to the place, footfall echoes in halls lit by jaundiced bulbs. The scent of sex is a wisp of smoke in his nose as he passes the chief’s office.

Raccoon City is a backwater bog, and to match the inhabitants are insular primitive beings who cling to antiquated ways. To be stationed here by choice was a lapse in judgement - snark is the currency of social interaction.

Leon is often taken by women.

He met this one back in Brooklyn, where he and his family lived above a Deli, an older southern lady with a gap in her teeth. Had the pleasure of crossing her path—Something about her just stuck. Led him to believe that all women round these parts had big hearts and even bigger bosoms. A place to rest his head for the night, a neck to hide his face in, blonde curls just shy of silver to tickle his skin flower-pink.

She talked all like:

Well, ain’t you just the sweetest peach I’ve ever seen! Oh, I could just eat a feller like you up, get me full as a tick.

Whatever it was that she said and meant, he liked it. And so guided by the expertise of his dick, Leon landed himself here.

There are a handful of beautiful women that Leon has seen, met, fucked.

(He weeded out the ugly ones the moment he was given access to the file room.)

The thing is, small town beautiful is different to New York pretty.

He has an ex over in Manhattan who could turn the sidewalk into a catwalk. She had Leon, a man built like a god, fumbling like a teenage girl. The last girl he fucked here was homely - she had the hushed urgency of a military wife and her monotony was sobering.

One girl he dated on and off for a year or two. She worked at a car wash and she was needy. Real needy. She missed the taste of his dick so he provided her with the scent of pussy instead. Every weekend he’d drive over and watch her clean the sex from the backseat of his cruiser just because he could.

Things are slow in this marshy cesspit, a never-ending conveyer belt of nothing much. The wind carries the scent of magnolia blossoms and sewage. It gives Leon a lot of time to think of the filth that is his underfurnished life. He lowers his head to the desk, allowing himself to fall in and out of spasms of lucidity.

Leon has done bad things, but he doesn’t qualify as a bad guy. The badge and the blue forbids it. Take Redfield for example, that guy got deployed in Penamstan. Y’know what happened there? He shot a kid or two and now he can’t get it up. He’s not a bad guy, not at all, he’s got a photo of his smiling face plastered in the lobby.

He’s a hero.

The only problem folks have with him is that heroes have nice, hard cocks and they fuck for hours. No matter his sex drive atrophied by gore splattered on the barrel of his gun, or how the studded underside of his boot caused flesh to crumple like the newspaper with his name on it—It doesn’t matter. To be built like a brick shithouse and have something soft between your legs, well, that just ain’t right, is it?

Over in Penamstan, he would say, you introduce yourself over the sound of gunfire, shake hands as the earth is split in half, kill an orphan to bond.

A good man for sure. So good his little sister went ghost.

(Leon finds her postcards in the mailroom. For Redfield’s sake, he hides them in the bottom drawer of his desk alongside all sorts of ephemera. He’s acquired quite the stash.)

Valentine is alright. She’s quiet. The moral fibre has been plucked out of her with a pair of forceps, and now she doesn’t think much about where she points her gun. They often sit in shared silence, and sometimes it is like looking in a funhouse mirror that creates a shape far slinkier than his bulk.

Chambers is too nice. Vickers is fat. Burton is old. Frost is ugly. These are all irrefutable flaws, but none of them are bad, and none of it is intentional. Not bad by Leon’s standards at least.

(The entirety of the STARS unit would be better off if they stopped kissing Captain Wesker’s flat ass, but that is like asking for sympathy from the devil.)

Man, he has too much time on his hands.

“Kennedy, you busy?” Rita knocks on his desk. The fabric of her shirt creases inwards to grasp the dip of her waist as she places a hand on her hip. She’s poised, but something about her gait is wobbly.

“Mighty busy.” He nods.

What they have is not history, but something much smaller. It is a word blotted out on a torn page from a burnt book, it is ground into powder by mortar and pestle.

It is Leon’s hand in her back pocket when nobody’s around.

“I’m sure.” She straightens her spine, eyes heavy with the weight of her lashes. “Up in Black Water, something about a dead pig.”

“They have gators,” Leon points out. He may be bored to the point of suicide, but he is not in the mood to wrangle any gators.

“I know,” she says, lifting her eyes from the ground to meet his sidelong gaze, “go check it out, she sounded real spooked, take a dog if you have to.”

She, huh.

Wonder what she looks like. He hopes she has big tits. He hopes she isn’t a cousin-fucking, peat-smelling hick.

Black Water has a lot of those.

“Took ya long enough.” Your voice skims the air like a bullet, it strikes Leon in the chest.

You are she. And you, well—You’re both the needle and the spoon.

Doused in the lantern glow, the egg-whites of your eyes are streaked by small, bloody streams, your mac is zipped up to the chin, and your rainboots are the same colour of boxed rubber duckies.

You’re no sole-crushed peach, making the ground its canvas in a pitiful splatter, you’re a tart cherry that he would like to pick, melt into a glaze and store in a jar.

“Oh, we’re mighty busy.” Leon wipes Rita’s wet from his fingers on the front of his tailored pants, it’s gotten sticky like pomade. He thinks of her tailbone digging into the flesh of his stomach as he sits her on his lap.

“I bet.” You raise your brows. “How many lines did’ja do?”

Leon leans forward to watch your face with unblinking eyes. “Don’t say that too loud, Wesker’s gonna get worried, y’know, start digging through his stash.”

“Hah.” Your laugh is hidden into the collar of your mac. “He seems like the type.”

“You met him before?” An unpleasant squelch is heard when he steps where you do, it seems deliberate for a moment, that you’re avoiding a well-trodden path to give him a hard time. He stumbles forward in the dark—His shoes are fucked, and these socks deserve a funeral service.

“Think we all have.” Your body is lost in the shapelessness of your attire, clothes draped over your frame like you are more hanger than human. Effortless femininity lost to androgyny. “You’re not from these parts.”

“You don’t look like you’re from these parts, pumpkin pie,” he mocks your twang and is met with a tut.

You stop and Leon bumps into you with a grunt.

He shines his torch at the ground and isn’t quite sure of what he’s looking at. “That’s a pig alright.”

#leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy angst #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy angst #resident evil angst #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

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ja3yun · 5 months

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The Sun That Always Burns | S.JY pt.1

sim jaeyun x afab!reader

warnings for chapter: friends to lovers, mentions of self-doubt, sexual content/smut (mdni), fluff - like super fluffy, first times, pet names (love, princess, baby, etc.), protected sex, if I missed any lmk!

synopsis: you and jake's high school relationship blossomed into a romance filled with hope and promise. however, as time went on, jake's long-term expectations began to weigh heavily on you, who struggled to meet them. your paths eventually lead you in separate directions, each experiencing different aspects of life and ultimately moving on from your past love. unexpectedly, fate intervened and you both reunite after years apart. the reunion allows you to rediscover your feelings for each other, but also forces you to navigate the complexities of your past and present.

wc: 8.3k+

part 2 | part 3

a/n: hi! I decided to post at least the beginning of the story. this whole story is like 50k but honestly, you could read this as a stand-alone. It's not great and a little slow because all the juicy stuff happens later on but it is super fluffy. the chapters will probably be longer but for now, I'm keeping it short-ish.

The first time you met Sim Jaeyun was on the number 18 bus headed to your first day of high school. It was August, the sun was shining, and little did you know that the sunshine wasn’t confined to the sky. The bus was busy, students new and old graced the seats and aisles, and a sea of navy blue and black flooded your vision. Then you spotted it, a tiny seat at the back gone unnoticed. As you push your way to the back of the bus ignoring the disgruntled travellers, you take a seat and huff a breath, victory playing slightly on your lips.

You are observant of your surroundings, one of the many traits you got from your mum. Not so observant, however, as you missed the way the boy beside you eyed you from the side smiling. The sun shone heavy then. As the bus pulled up to your new school, people flocked to the tall building. The stones were an ash yellow, letters missing from the sign that sat above the entrance doors, and cracks on the pavement from neglect. You wondered if this was a foresight into your academic career.

“I heard it’s haunted on the third floor.” A voice so suddenly pulled you out of your trance. You twisted your head around to see a boy, the sun seemed to get warmer as you watched his smile appear. “Hi.” His hand raised slightly to give a wave, his head tilting with his smile spread so wide you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Hi”, you look back at the building, “is it really haunted? Because I will not even step foot in the building if it is.”

He shrugs, “Rumour is there is a girl that occupies the third-floor girls bathroom. Her eyes got scratched out by a fox and no one came to help her, so now she haunts the bathroom to get revenge. If you see her reflection in the mirror and stare in her eyes, she claws them out.”

You shiver, a sudden sick feeling rising from your chest, “Oh absolutely not”, you turn but he grabs your shoulders and faces you to the school, the sun suddenly exasperatingly hot. His back is pressed against you as his slight chuckle sounds through your ears.

“If you can face it for one day, you can face it for the next few years, yeah?” You looked at the school once again, inhaled, looked at the boy, and exhaled. His smile, that smile, was just enough to get you to nod. What you didn’t know is that the story wasn’t even a rumour, it was all in the boy’s head. He saw you, scared and apprehensive to enter the school. He wanted to let you know that if you can survive the first day of high school, you can survive them all.

“Y/N” you muttered, his eyes, those wide, brown eyes looked at you inquisitively, “My name, it’s Y/N”. That smile returned as he moved to the front of you.

“Jaeyun, or Jake. I don’t really mind.” He scratched his forearm as he let out a nervous chuckle. You finally take him in. You notice it all, the thick black hair in an almost middle parting, his straight thick eyebrows, his prominent lower lip that naturally goes into a pout, and his deep yet bright eyes that bore into yours. You took him all in. And he did the same. His teenage self saw you, every piece of you, you felt for the first time, that someone other than your reflection truly saw you. The sun burned your cheeks that day.

You learned so much about him that day alone. You learned that he loved football, that he was smart and creative, that he loves his dog Layla more than anything else, he hates being scared yet he has fun at haunted houses. He becomes your best friend by lunchtime. It was the next few weeks that let you learn everything you needed to know about Jaeyun. He bit his lip more often than not, he runs his fingers through his hair frequently, and his eyes go wide when he gets excited and wider when he is curious, when he smiles widely enough his gums start to show. You notice it all. He becomes your first love by Christmas.

You never let him know you’ve fallen for him. Why would you want to ruin such a beautiful friendship when he doesn’t feel the same way? You think he likes you for a while, but when you see him flirting with the class rep one too many times, you keep your feelings between you and the moon.

But that was just it, his flirting with the class rep was nothing more than his friendly nature. That touch he laid on her arm was just a simple gesture, with no deeper meaning. You notice his behavior with her and yet just like the first day, you fail to truly observe him. Jaeyun’s hands on your thigh as he laughed at your terrible jokes, his head that leaned on your shoulder even when he wasn’t tired, how he’d stroke your hair while you were talking to your other classmates, his hugs lingering a little longer as he closed his eyes, how he subconsciously took the mushrooms from your side of the pizza because you hate the texture. You missed it all.

One year later you’re both inseparable. You’re happy. Jaeyun is disgruntled. You have a date, it has been a common occurrence since you turned 16. You go on dates, you think they’re the one and cry to Jaeyun about how you’re unlovable. It’s teenage naivety, it’s silly, it’s hurting him more than you could ever know. Jaeyun helps you pick out a dress that makes you look like you’re the only girl to ever exist. The pink sundress sits perfectly around your frame, the sun is out but clouds are forecasted, so you opt for a light white jacket.

“Is this okay?” You ask observing yourself in the mirror. You aren’t delusional, you know you aren’t the prettiest girl in the world, but when you put on a dress like this, you hope you look good enough. Jaeyun is hyper-aware of how you check yourself in the mirror a little longer than normal. All the dates and rejections, it’s getting to you, and Jaeyun hates it. He stands and stands close behind you.

“You look like a princess. One any man would go to war for.”

You stop and take in his words. The sun leaks in through your window as you turn to him, “Be serious, Jake,” you say to him with annoyance, “can you be serious.”

He doesn’t understand, he is serious. Then, just like that it hits him. You don’t believe him, you never have. Jaeyun has spent the past year observing you, your every movement, every lipstick, every dress, every blush. You have seen only one version of yourself and yet Jaeyun has seen every version. Every perfect version of you. “I am serious,” his hands land on your shoulder and hold you still, just like the first day you met, “You look beautiful”. He wished he could say anything more, but his 16-soon-to-be-17 year old self only has so many ways to express his thoughts of you.

“Yeah,” you scoff and it makes Jaeyun stare at you, “If I was then I would have a boyfriend by now”. Jaeyun feels it, harder than anything before, the urge to scream. As he goes to speak your phone dings. You pick it up, leaving his hands empty from your shoulders yet he is still, staring at the mirror, suddenly aware that maybe, just maybe, he isn’t enough. Not enough for you. The sun sets behind clouds.

“Mark is here. I’ll speak to you when I get back!” You hug him quickly goodbye and ascend down the stairs. His body doesn’t move. The sun gets overtaken by the moon.

It’s 9 pm that night, not a word from you. He thinks the worst, you’re always back by 8 pm latest. He texts you. Y/N, are you okay? Did everything go well?

An incoming call. Y/N. He answers immediately.

“Jake,” pause, “what's wrong with me?”

That night he comes over and his first sight is your tear-stained face. You’re in your bedroom, crying into his shoulder as he strokes your hair, an unfortunate circumstance you have found yourself in too many times this year. “Why can’t I just find someone to love me.” The statement makes Jaeyun’s hands tense around your shoulders and his jaw tense. You feel the shift and pull away as you see his eyes, stained glassed in tears, “Jake…what’s wrong?”

“Am I not enough?” The question knocks you back, confused.

“What-”

“Why is it never me you choose? Why is it everyone but me?” His jaw is tight and tears are leaving his usually bright eyes. You try to process his words, make sense of them and yet your brain isn’t comprehending anything that is happening. He inhales deeply before he speaks, but no words come out. You realise you have to say something.

And yet, no words come from you either, desperate stares are exchanged between you both as your jaw hangs open. The silence is enough for Jaeyun to feel he has ruined everything, and yet the silence means so much more than that. It’s realisation of the feelings you’ve buried, a realisation that Jaeyun, maybe just maybe, feels something for you.

Jaeyun can’t hide his emotions, not truly. He’s open and honest about everything. If he’s sad, happy, angry, or guilty, he feels it tenfold and it pours out. This was the one time he wished that wasn’t the case right now.

Shaking your head you look at him, “Jaeyun,” his eyes fall to his lap as he runs through what he’s just said, thinking about how any moment you’re going to walk out that door and never speak to him again. “Jaeyun,” you repeat, hoping he’ll look at you; he doesn’t. “What are you saying?” You needed confirmation.

“You look at everyone else, give them your time, put on your cute dresses for these boys that don’t deserve it. I’m not saying I deserve it but,” He looks at you with a fervor in his eyes you’ve not seen, or rather, hadn’t noticed, “can’t I get a chance to prove that I deserve it.” There is a want in his eyes, an innocent want of love, of pure unfiltered love. His chest feels like it's been buried in cement and his breathing is jagged through the tears he forgets are cascading down his face.

Without a beat of hesitation, your hands find their way to cup his face, your body shifting so you’re placed in front of his crossed legs. Your tears have stopped, crusted on your blushed cheeks. “Sim Jaeyun, you are everything I have ever wanted.” And it was true. You never told him why these dates didn’t work out. You started out thinking it was because you weren’t good enough but as more dates happened you came to the realisation that its because they weren’t. They weren’t your Jaeyun. Your thumb wipes the free-falling tears and he looks at you, eyes wide.

The moon shines as bright as the sun as the confession pours from your lips. “I don’t want anyone else. I want you. I didn’t think I was an option for you so I tried to find someone that wanted me back.” His jaw tenses under your touch, the words hurt. His hands found their way to your waist and squeezed, a reassurance that you were always an option, the only option. “But none of them were you.” The last sentence was a whisper, the room so silent it felt like you were shouting.

Jaeyun notices the tightness in his chest ease, and yet, he can’t speak. He can only hug you tightly. Any words he has the courage to say, he can’t speak while looking into your eyes. His chin rests on your shoulder, one of his hands still situated on your hip while the other is tangled in your hair. “You’re so stupid.” He mentally cringes as the words leave his mouth. Out of all the thoughts in his head, why were they the ones to flee? His hand strokes your hair as he pulls back relieved to see a smile on your face. “You’re so stupid, Y/N.” then he cups your cheek as he looks lovingly into your eyes. It feels like he is searching into your soul, trying to ask for permission - permission for what he doesn’t know.

And then you kiss him. Your first kiss. His first kiss. It’s soft, not much movement, but enough for both of you to understand each other's feelings. The air feels hot like the sun like it’s a hot August day. Like that first day.

Jaeyun shared every first with you. First kiss, first date, first time, first fight, first makeup.

When you both went to school the next day, you held his hand. He took your hand in his often but this was the first time you held it as his. His love. People didn’t even notice at first, you guys were always together but when he kissed you so tenderly outside of your math class it caught the attention of others. Jaeyun kissed you a lot. Soft fluttering pecks were bestowed upon your face any chance he could take like he was making up for lost time.

“Go on a date with me,” Jaeyun says as a statement rather than a question.

You looked at him with a smile and head tilted back. Hands are intertwined with his as you start to swing them gently back and forth, “When?”

“Tomorrow. There is an outside movie theatre that opened up last week. They’re showing Labyrinth.” He notices your eyes shine, “I already bought the tickets so you have to go with me.” He laughed.

You paused and furrowed your brows, “But you don’t like Labyrinth, you said it’s too weird that David Bowie is trying to seduce a teenager.”

“True,” He kisses your head, “but it’s your favourite movie. I’ll look past the unnecessary bulges and age gap for you.” Your head hilts back and he notices, “What?”

“You know they don’t actually date, right? Like he just infatuated with her innocence,” you pause and he smirks, “Oh..okay now yeah I understand what you mean.” He laughs at your final realisation. That laugh that made you smile. That laugh that made you want to start flying.

“Well, now we can go see it and you can watch it in a whole new light.” He kisses your lips, lingering there a little longer. He whispers against your lips, “So come with me?” You peck his lips and nod as you move back.

“You just ruined my favourite movie for me but since it’s you I suppose so.” You roll your eyes.

“Good. The tickets are nonrefundable.” He pulls you into him and laughs. Jaeyun’s chest vibrates under your cheek and his heartbeat fast.

You loved this. The way nothing had changed. Emotions were just heightened in the best possible way. Jaeyun was still Jaeyun, he was just your Jaeyun now.

“I gotta head to practice, Y/N. I’ll text you when it’s done.” He kissed you for the nth time and stared at you, “Don’t miss me too much, baby” He smirked as he saw your face go red. He had never called you any nickname before and especially not a pet name like this.

You gather yourself and roll your eyes and playfully slap his chest, “I think it’s more that you shouldn’t miss me.”

“I always do.” Not a beat missed, sincerity flooding his soft voice as he spoke the confession to you. Jaeyun was everything you could have asked for. He was it for you.

You and Jaeyun’s first date was 30 minutes away. 30 minutes to stop your heart from leaping out of your chest and for your whole body to cool down. It was unchartered territory. You had been on all those dates but you could always calm yourself down by saying at least it’s not Jaeyun but now it is. So what do you do?

The sundress you picked out is suddenly feeling wrong. What if he doesn’t like it? What if you look frumpy when you sit down? You stand in the mirror observing every possible angle he could see you in to determine whether to keep it on or not. Jaeyun has seen you in every type of state from sleep deprived to sick. It couldn’t be worse than that, right?

Just as the golden sun floods through your window there is a knock at the front door. One last glance over in the mirror and a spray of perfume earns another chap at the door. You run downstairs and open the door quickly. “Sorry, I was just finishing getting ready.” You say before the door is even fully open.

Jaeyun is speechless. His breath is shallow as he looks at you in the dress. Blue like the sky in June, your hair wavy with two white bows holding back those pieces that annoy you. He usually tucks them behind your ear because he knows how they annoy you. His eyes glance at your neck, a little wet from the perfume you had sprayed. His mouth is dry, his palms are sweaty, suddenly he rethinks every decision he has made with the choice of beige trousers, a white top, and a denim vest. He felt so stupid.

You look at him and see his brain working overtime. Oh no, you think to yourself. Is he trying to think of a compliment because he hates it?

You’re both stupid. Stupidly in love.

“You look,” he pauses trying to put into words how he feels, “You look like you’re the muse for the stars.” They weren’t even all the words he wanted to say but all he could muster up.

A blush creeps up to your cheeks and the hairs on your neck stand up. You look into his eyes, but his are too busy taking you in. You feel shy suddenly. There is a strange look on his face, like something you’ve seen in movies but never in real life.

“Um, thank you, Jaeyun.” You cough and grab your jacket from the wooden rack, “You ready to go?”

“Yeah.” He breathlessly lets out, not taking his eyes off you, but never making eye contact. He’s scared to, just in case he says something too soon, too fast. He watches you put on your white slightly creased jacket. He loved this jacket on you. He loved everything on you really.

The walk to the outdoor movie is filled with random conversation, but he never looks at you. Jaeyun’s brain is filled with nothing but admiration; for you, for your outfit, for your body. He chokes it down, but every time your hair flies behind your ear he has to recompose himself.

You both arrive at the movie and give your tickets to the box office before finding your seats. There is little space to choose from but you find a summer seat on the left, a perfect fit for the both of you. The sun is setting.

Jaeyun pulls a blanket from his bag along with some strawberry laces, your favourite. “Thanks, Jaeyun.” You smile and he reciprocates the gesture. You sit with your legs crossed as you drape the blanket over you both, “Thank you for taking me here.”

“I’ll take you anywhere you want to.” He nonchalantly states as he looks for the snacks he packed and your heart flutters.

Once everything settles and the movie starts you move close to him, your knees resting over his thigh. It makes him settle his arm on your leg, his hand placed over your knee. Your body stills as you feel his hand rub your knee gently, he doesn’t know what he is doing to you. As you look down you see his arm, veins prominently showing making you swallow but your mouth is dry. You’re weak.

Jaeyun notices you shift slightly and he looks to you, “Are you okay, Y/N?” You simply nod and try to focus on the movie. Suddenly you start to notice Jareth’s bulge a lot more than you used to.

Damn was it always that in your face? You think to yourself. Jaeyun squeezes your knee to get your attention as he leans into you, “You think I could pull off that outfit?” he points and sniggers as Jareth is shown on screen wearing the tightest silver trousers to ever grace mankind.

Normally you would laugh at the thought and come up with a snarky comment but right now, with his hand now placed on your thigh where the blanket has fallen, you imagining what he really would look like in those trousers - more importantly how big he would look - you half-heartedly let out a laugh and his right eyebrow raise. “You okay, babe? You look kinda pale.” His hand squeezes your thigh and you jolt up in panic startling Jaeyun.

“I um, I’m gonna go and uh,” you look around for any escape. You see a drink stand and thank whatever higher power there is for this opportunity, “Um, I’m going to get a drink, like, do you want one?” You grab your bag not waiting for a response and head to the bright yellow stand.

Jaeyun is confused because he thought everything was going well. His mind started to swirl as he watched you put in your order. His eyes suddenly grew wide as it clicked into his mind, his hand, he was pushing you. This is your first date and he was so stupid to touch and squeeze you like that. He shoves his head in his hands and digs his palms into his eyes. You’re so stupid of course she feels awkward you’re groping her on an innocent first date, are you thick?

You come back with a cherry diet coke for yourself and a grapeade for him. You hand him the drink and sit down. He mutters a quick thanks and shuffles away from you. You notice his sudden movement and sigh. If only you weren’t so wrapped up in your own horny thoughts you might have been able to have a normal date. Why were you suddenly so aware of every attractive point of your boyfriend? You’ve known him for so long you should have had plenty of time to oggle at him so why did you choose now? When he was trying to do something nice for you and now look, you thought, you’ve made him uncomfortable.

The rest of the date is quiet, you find yourself quietly singing along not noticing how Jaeyun is stealing glances. It's just like before you were his, the silent stares and longing to hold you. But he couldn’t, not now that he thinks he’s made you uncomfortable, not realising it wasn’t the uncomfortable he thinks it is.

The movie ends and you walk home in silence. Jaeyun doesn’t hold your hand, doesn’t look up, and simply keeps his head down until you get to your house.

“Jaeyun I-”

“Y/N, I’m sorry”

You both start at the same time, his head still hanging low as your eyebrows furrow,

“Why are you apologising? I should be the one to apologise.” You state matter of factly.

“Y/N, you never have to apologise if you feel uncomfortable. I shouldn’t have pushed it so far. I was so stupid to just put my hand on your thigh like that, it was inappropriate.” He rants.

You are as confused as he was earlier. You step forward and grab his hand, “Jaeyun I was never uncomfortable with that?” You blush as you go to say what you were really feeling but you stop yourself.

His head raises, eyes wide, “Then why did you just suddenly get up? Don’t lie to me, if I made you uncomfortable don’t feel the need to pretend I didn’t just to save my feelings-”

“I was turned on.” Shit. Your hand leaves him and flies over your mouth, eyes widen.

If you could slap a man right now it would be Jaeyun. Slap that smug look off his face as his jaw is slack, smile on his face, and tongue tracing his canine. He shortly laughs and turns around so his back is facing you as he lets out the heartiest laugh he can. “Jaeyun please stop laughing.” You find yourself slightly laughing as your hands cover your whole face.

Jaeyun spins and clasps his hands doubling over. You groan and playfully hit his shoulder.

Then just like that, his hands cup your face and his lips are on yours. “Baby, I thought I crossed the line.” He mumbles in between kisses. You’re hands wrap around his waist as you feed into the kiss. It’s passionate and hot, nothing like the rest. His hand comes around your throat and you feel his silver ring coldly pressed to your neck and you gasp. He uses this as an opportunity to stick his tongue down your throat. You’re moaning, your body is pressing against him, feeling like you need to be connected to him in every way possible.

“Y/N,” he whines into your mouth and you simply nod and kiss him deeper, if it was even possible.

Jaeyun sees a light turn on in your house. It was your mum and you were about to be caught any second. “Shit, baby. I gotta go before your mum castrates me.” You shake your head and mutter a nu-uh as you pull him in for a kiss again, but Jaeyun simply pecks your lips and pulls away. “Y/N please.” He fixes your hair in a rush and wipes your mouth with his thumb, “to be continued, yeah?” Jaeyun smiles before bolting away from the door, just in time as your mum opens the door.

“Y/N? What are you doing standing out here?” Your mum questions you but you simply smile and shake your head never uttering a word. Heading upstairs to your bedroom you think about everything that happened. Your phone lights up your dark room like the sun protruding through clouds.

I’m so happy I get to kiss you like that forever x

________

You and Jaeyun were kissing like that every chance you could. Before either of your mums got home, behind the stairwell during class, in the library during study periods, literally anytime you could. Everyone was sick of you both, teachers and students would roll their eyes. ‘You guys are so disgusting’, ‘Please get out of my face with this lovey-dovey shit okay?’, ‘Mr. Sim could you please move to the back of the class, this is a place of learning’. Jaeyun always laughed and said it was just because they were jealous.

All you guys did was kiss but the more you did, the more you needed him in every sense.

One night your phone pings indicating a text message. It was Jaeyun.

Are you awake?

Jaeyun was never one to message you this late.

I am. Are you okay?

Can I come see you? Are your parents home?

You take a breath in

You can come. Let me know when you’re outside and i’ll let you in

Time drags by slowly as you wait for him to text. This was so unlike him. Jaeyun never asked to randomly see you unless it was a reasonable hour, not half one in the morning. Your brain started to swirl around imagining every scenario. A breakup was forefront in your mind.

You and Jaeyun had been doing amazing, like something out of a crappy teenage love story but that doesn’t mean everything was peachy. But nothing that could warrant a breakup.

Your phone pings. Your inhale holds for a solid 20 seconds before you check it.

out front x

You make your way downstairs, not unlike your first date with Jaeyun except this time you were quiet, floating down the stairs as best you could. You open the door and there he is. Clad in grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt, his feet are wearing the Timberland shoes you (your parents technically) bought him. The denim jacket he was seemingly wearing before is draped over his arm.

“Hi,” he says quietly. You say nothing but instead, move out of his way to let him in. It doesn’t take but a second for him to step in and make his way up the stairs to your bedroom. Your parents are aware Jaeyun occupies your bedroom most days, but they would never allow him at this hour. You follow him into your bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind you.

“Jaeyun, what’s wrong?” you ask so quietly that he almost misses it. But he always hears you.

“I just,” he stops and sits on your bed watching his fingers as he seemingly counts them, “I needed to see you.” He doesn’t look at you. The atmosphere is heavy.

“Talk to me.” You see him stop as you say this. His body is rigid suddenly. Jaeyun was always so open and honest so you quickly sit next to him in the hopes it will encourage him to speak. “You can tell me anything-”

“I love you.”

The interruption is quick, too quick. You swallow your words and look at him. His eyes are focused on his hands but they’re panicked. Say something you think to yourself and the first words are,

“You do?”

He looks to the side but not quite in your eyes as he confesses, “Of course. I’ve loved you since I met you, I think.”

Deep inside you knew. You knew he was in love with you, and you him, yet here you are startled by his words. Your throat closes as you go to say it back. Why is your body so against you saying those simple words you’ve felt for so long?

“Y/N? Please say something.” He pleads. Is voice is strained, almost waiting for you to reject him.

“I-” you pause. It’s been something you’ve been wanting to confess for so long but you can’t seem to get the words out. The words seem so insignificant compared to your feelings for Jaeyun. The love you hold for the boy could never be accumulated by mere words, but you say them, “I love you too, Jaeyun.” That soul confession you’ve been wanting to say. His eyes finally meet yours as he cups your cheek. His hand felt like the sun on your skin.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Really.” You let out a breath before suddenly, as quick as your heart was beating, his lips were on yours, moving softly, just like always. You needed more than this, your body was aching for him in ways you didn’t even know. You grabbed at his t-shirt desperately as you tried to connect your bodies as close as you could, your chest pushing against his as your hips raised from the bed, “I love you so much.”

That was enough for him to push your left shoulder onto the mattress as he hovered over you, his lips never leaving yours. You felt his lips getting needy, his grip on your waist and the hand that was once on your shoulder is now creeping lightly around your neck, his thumb brushing the area where your voice box is situated and making it harder for you to speak, not that you could speak.. Usually, if you got to this stage of desperation he would stop himself but you could tell he wasn’t registering his actions, too deep in the lust and love of it all.

“Jaeyun, baby,” you moaned lightly to grab his attention but he simply kissed down your neck to your collarbone, “Jaeyun please.” He pulled away and his eyes were wild, drunk on you.

“Sorry.” he states, “I got carried away.” Jaeyun goes to move back but you find yourself holding him by his t-shirt.

“Don’t apologise. I want this.” You look at his eyes as they flicker from one emotion to another. His eyes once sorry are now pleading you to repeat what he thinks he has just heard. Your hands hold his face and bring him closer as you feel his breath on your lips, “I need you. I want this.”

That was all it took before he was kissing you, his hands now both enveloping your waist. His lips were so soft against yours, the small whines he was making as he kissed you making your head spin. You needed him, more than you did at the outdoor movie, more than any other time you made out with him. It was another level.

His mouth traveled down your body, not removing any clothes but pushing your t-shirt up to kiss your belly right down to where your shorts met your hips. Your hips bucked to let him know he could take your shorts off and yet he doesn’t. Not yet. He kisses along the line of your lower abdomen, his hands run up and down your calves slowly. He’s teasing you and he knows it.

“Jaeyun please don’t” you whine as he looks up at you, eyes half covered by his lashes.

“Don’t what, baby?” He kisses just under your belly button and trails down, “Don’t touch you here?” His fingers press lightly on your slit and your hips buck upwards. Jaeyun grins and places a single finger slowly on your clit, “or here?” That was enough for you to let out a moan you didn’t know you were holding in. He smiles, rubbing your sensitive spot over your shorts, “So responsive, baby.”

You had never seen him like this. This Jaeyun was new to you, to both of you. He knew exactly what he was doing despite never having touched anyone like this before.

What you didn’t know was that he had asked his friend Heeseung for advice only a day prior.

“Have any of you ever eaten a girl out before?” Jaeyun asked coyly as his friends sniggered. Only Heeseung didn’t, he was the only one who knew how Jaeyun felt about these things, how insecure he was that he had never done anything like this.

“It’s all about listening and responding.” Heeseung states, “You gotta try it out and read the room, y’know? If you do something and she moans, do it again.” Heesung was only a year older and yet he knew exactly what he was talking about, “If she likes it, do it again, if she doesn’t, do something else. You need to learn about each others’ bodies.” Jaeyun looked at Heeseung as if he were a master of the female body.

“How do i do it right though? You always see those tiktoks about girls blasting guys for not being able to get them off,” Jaeyun pauses, “what if I can’t?”

“You will just listen to her, Jake. Let her control the situation without her even knowing she is.”

And that’s what Jaeyun was doing right now. He was listening to your moans as he rubbed your clit. He heard your whine as he pulled his fingers away, eagerly pulling down your pyjama shorts.

As he looked at your naked core he could only moan to himself, desperate to bury his face in but he needed to know that this is what you wanted. “Can I?” The words sent you over the edge, you lifted your hips as an invitation but he had to hear you say it, “Use your words, baby.”

“Please, Jaeyun.” You whimpered breathlessly, “I need you to make me feel good.”

And that was enough for him. Enough for him to dive his tongue between your folds, enough for him to circle your clit with his tongue, enough for him to moan at your taste. Everything in this moment was enough. His tongue was searching for every part of you that felt pleasure, and he hit every spot.

“Jae…oh my god,” you gasped and grabbed his hair as you pushed his face further into you, “Baby don’t stop.” Jaeyun took that as a sign to keep eating you like his life depended on it. He was so glad Heeseung had sent him videos to show him how to pleasure a woman. He’s glad he could please you. He moans at the sight of you being greedy for more because of him.

“Baby,” he whispers, his lips over your clit, “can I?” He traces his middle finger over your entrance as he waits for the response. You don’t know how you managed to huff out a “Do it” but you do, and Jaeyun takes no longer than a second to shove his forefinger into you.

“Fuck baby you’re gonna be so tight around me.” He moans as he thrusts his finger into you. You were scared to use anything other than your fingers to please yourself yet his felt so different, your walls felt so small suddenly. Your body clenches around him and he smiles, lips around your clit before circling his tongue. “More.” you moan out which makes Jaeyun add another finger. His nose is nudging your clit more and more, his breath heavy as he pushes in another finger. He knows you’re close and yet you don’t even register it. He knows you better than you do. “Are you gonna come, Princess?”

Princess

It was new, yet you nearly came at the nickname. “So close” you admit as he continues at your pussy. Jaeyun was drinking you like it was his last drop of water out in the desert and that was enough for you to come undone. His fingers never slowed down, his tongue still lapping up everything you gave him. You were panting, hands still in his hair. You felt so succumbed to him that you could do nothing but stare at him, his wet lips stained by your pleasure looking right back at you, “You okay?” He asks almost innocently.

“I’m fantastic” you huff and he chuckles as he lays a soft kiss to your clit. The action makes you shudder, “Jaeyun…” you breathe. Jaeyun looks up at you, slowly climbing until his face reaches yours.

“What is it, love?” Right there, that is the moment you knew you could never be anyone else. The overwhelming emotions took over your body as you pulled to kiss him with fevour like never before. Your hands tangled in his messy brown hair, your eyes rolling as you kiss him, “Jaeyun, I need you so bad.”

He stares at you, almost in disbelief at your words, “Are you sure baby?” His eyes are pleading for you to say yes and to be honest, you’ve never wanted anyone more in your life.

“I’m so sure, Jaeyun,” you whisper. Your hand slowly makes its way down to his cock, your hand slipping under his sweatpants as you stroke him gently, “Let me have every bit of you.” You slowly pump his cock as he groans and his head falls back.

“Baby stop before I-” he stops your hand, “I’ll come if you keep doing that, at least let me come inside you.” Jaeyun’s eyes were pleading, desperate.

“Jaeyun-” you whine. He moves away discarding his sweatpants and boxers. Your eyes fall onto his cock. It stood flat against his stomach, pink and oh-so-pretty. You weren’t an expert but you could see it was at least 7”, his girth thick, a standout vein ran along the bottom of his shaft to the tip. Licking your lips you sit on your knees, waiting for him to do something.

Oh fuck Jaeyun thinks to himself as he sees you, feet tucked under your ass, eyes glued to his cock. The strap of your pyjama has fallen down and left your right tit peaking out. His cheeks flush at this innocent yet filthy sight of you.

Jaeyun starts taking his t-shirt off before leaning down to capture your lips with his. Its hard to tell whose lips are whose when they’re tangled into each other like this. Falling back onto the bed he is hovered over you as his lips never leave yours with the exception of him taking off your tank top.

His hand finds its way back to your folds making you shiver and moan. The pleasure was too unbearable. “Are you ready for me baby or should I open you up some more?” His question was meant to be innocent - he really did want you to be ready for him, but you were so aroused that it was the most filthy thing to leave his mouth so far. The pleasure was so much that you couldn’t find the words to tell him to put on a condom, but you knew he had to, “Condom,” you point, “Second drawer.”

He laughs, “Did you expect this to happen or something?”

Shaking your head and chuckling you reply, “Got them at the doctor's office when I was there. You know I can’t pass up anything free.” He laughs even louder as he puts his forehead to yours.

One small kiss and he reaches over to the drawer to pull out a condom but he stops suddenly, “Baby?” You prop yourself on your elbows to see what has caught his attention and your face flashes a crimson red. Jaeyun pulls out a small vibrator and smirks at you, “Is this my competition?” His eyebrows raise and a smile etches onto his face.

Playfully you hit his chest as you both laugh. Jaeyun leans into you again as he disregards the toy. “I’ll make sure you never need that again, baby. Only I get to make you come from now on, yeah?” He says as his lips brush against your own and you whine. You whine at how you don’t doubt for a second he’s the only person or thing you’re coming forever again. “You ready for this? We can stop whenever you want okay?” His voice is but a whisper.

“I’m ready.”

Jaeyun grabs his cock and drags it between your folds before he taps his head on your clit. “Fuck, Jaeyun, need you.” That familiar wetness from earlier is soaking your sheets and his cock all at the same time. He doesn’t stop teasing you, partly because he loves the way you’re wriggling and gasping under him but also to get you wet enough for him. Heeseung had also said it’s important to make sure you’re relaxed and wet enough that it would hurt less - he sent him videos on that too.

His tip is at your entrance once Jaeyun is convinced you’re ready to take all of him. “Breathe out for me baby, and if it hurts too much tell me.” His eyes never leave yours as you nod, “Okay.”

Jaeyun pushes his tip in as your hands find his shoulders and claw at them and he stops, “Princess, you okay?” He puts aside his own pleasure for your comfort. You nod but he doesn’t move as he waits for you to say something.

“I’m okay, Jaeyun. Give me a minute?” He nods and kisses you, as he leans forward his cock pushes more into you as you wince, “Shit, love I’m sorry.” Love. Jaeyun was bringing out every pet name he could muster and you couldn’t get enough of it. You kiss him to let him know it’s okay. The pain wasn’t as bad as you thought but that didn’t mean it wasn’t uncomfortable. You let him sit there for a minute.

“I’m good, you can go.” And he does, ever so slowly. This was new for both of you and you loved that you were each other's firsts. It wasn’t awkward or tense, it was everything you needed it to be.

“Baby you feel so good.” Jaeyun whined as he bottomed out, his eyes scrunched tight, “I can’t believe you’re real.” he whispered to himself.

Grabbing his face with both your hands you stare at him being absolutely lost in euphoria. You are doing this to him and it's making you feel suddenly so powerful. This newfound confidence is making your head spin, your hips lift to meet his as you speed up the pace and Jaeyun’s eyes land wildly on yours. “Princess…fuck” he gasps as you clench suddenly around him. He wasn’t the only one to get some tips from other people, albeit your was from a TikTok you watched.

“Is it good, baby?” you whisper in his ear, and just like that, he’s spilling into the condom as his hips still. If you could tattoo one moment into your brain for the rest of your life it would be this; Jaeyun coming undone, his jaw slacking as he breathes heavily, his chest heaving up and down, sweat on his forehead. Your heart was warming at the very sight like you were watching the sunset.

Jaeyun’s arms grow weak and start shaking as he tries to hold himself up. “I’m sorry.” He shyly says as he reaches for your face, “I didn’t mean to do that so quickly.” His face turns crimson red from embarrassment but you just laugh as you wipe the sweat from his forehead.

“Jaeyun it’s okay, it was everything I could have asked for.” You smile softly at him as he shakes his head.

“No, I should have made you finish.” His eyes burn with determination and you have no idea what he is thinking.

“Bab-” one quick thrust from him was enough to stop your question in its tracks. The pleasure spreads through your body but you muster up the energy to say, “Jaeyun you don’t have to, oh god.” He quickens with vigor like never before, his hand coming down to rub your clit.

“Princess I promised I’d make you feel good, yeah?” He breathily says, his concentration on his movements rather than his words, “I’m gonna make you come again even if it's the last thing i do.” One thing you loved about Jaeyun is that when he put his mind to something, he made sure to see it through. And if that meant having your come around his cock, that's exactly what he was going to do.

You were trying to keep quiet and not alert your parents down the hall but that was a task easier said than done, you were moaning so loud that Jaeyun kissed you to muffle you.

“Baby you gotta be quiet,” he smirked as he thrust extra hard making you let out a long groaned moan, “I know I’m good baby, but try.” You were so overwhelmed with pleasure you couldn’t even roll your eyes at his cocky remarks. Instead, you fuelled his ego more, clenching around him and moaning into his shoulder.

“Jaeyun..I’m so-”

“I know, princess, I can feel you.” He whispers as he kisses your neck, “Need you to come all over me, yeah?” you swear he has been smirking for the past 10 minutes, “you love my cock, yeah?”

“I love you.” Sincerity laced within your moan. Jaeyun’s eyes soften and his smirk falls into a pout of adoration. He loves you so much, everything he does from now on will always be for you. You’re his everything.

“God I love you too, princess.” He kisses you as his hips go faster. He doesn’t tell you he’s getting overstimulated because seeing you in pure bliss like this is enough for him to forget his own discomfort for your pleasure.

“Fuck, Jaeyun, right there baby please.” You moan and he continues, he loves how vocal you are.

“Baby, come for me.” He rubs a thumb over your cheek as tears well in your eyes, “Just for me, give me it all.” He whispers before he pecks your forehead.

You have never felt anything quite like this. All the mixed emotions of ecstasy, love, adrenaline, and joy wash over you as you practically scream his name followed by a bunch of profanities. Jaeyun is quick to kiss you to keep you quiet but that just makes you moan loader, orgasm seeming never-ending.

First times in novels and movies are depicted as these beautiful, hard-to-compete-with moments but now they all seem so dishonest and lacking compared to what you’ve just experienced. You wouldn’t trade this moment for the world, you wouldn’t trade Jaeyun for anything.

Coming back down you open your eyes to see Jaeyun smiling at you and stroking your hair, “Princess you did so well. I’m so proud of you. I wasn’t too much was I?” genuine concern etched on his face.

“Never. I’m so in love with you.” you giggle and kiss him.

“Babe I will come again if you say that.” He laughs before pulling out. The empty feeling that was once the norm now feels out of place. You don’t know how you ever lived before him, not being full of him.

Jaeyun hisses as he takes the condom off and walks to the bin. You take the chance to look at him naked once. Thats all mine you think to yourself and smile lazily. As Jaeyun turns around he catches your smile and tilts his head, “Y/N? What are you smiling at?”

“You,” you start, “just smiling at the fact you’re mine.” Suddenly shy you cover your face with your arm and giggle. He strides over and hovers over you again removing your arm so he can see your face.

“Always. I’m always gonna be yours.”

You cuddled as the sun rose.

#I'm not super happy w this but it'll do #enhypen smut #enha smut #jake smut #jake x reader #aj writes #jaeyun smut #enhypen

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