#jungkook non idol au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alphabetboyluvr · 29 days

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habits of a clandestine nature | jjk

pairing: collegejk x female oc (angst, smut)

warnings: college!jk, rich!jk, he's a college nepo baby!!!, waitress!oc, flashbacks to summer, (mild) enemies to lovers, oc lives with tae (they're besties), jk is besties with jimin, mentions of parents infidelity, mentions of oc's virginity (lost prior to the story starting), a little angsty, jk is nawt a fuckboi, but he is stewpid, unprotected sex, bathroom escapades, multiple positions, oral (f), mentions of blowjobs, house parties, jackson wang!!!!!!!, yoongi has no lines but is also one of my fave characters lmao

wordcount: 16k

note from holly: this was written as a commission over on ko-fi!! it went through soooo many changes and edits - at one point it was over 24k lmao. i have so much lore and backstory for this couple, but I'll save it for a rainy day!! one of the main prompts was the 2004 classic a cinderella story, and there are little nods to it throughout the story, including the diner name!! a commenter on wattpad said the pairing reminded them of danny and sandy from grease and like... i see it lmao. anywaysss enjoy!! <33

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

It's a well-trained habit, your fleeting glance towards the door of Montgomery's Diner when the bell rings.

Though the clatter of cheap porcelain being stacked on a tray almost manages to drown out the chiming metal, it's never quite enough. Softening your hardened expression, you continue on with your work, careful to not let your contempt show too much.

You already know who it is—or at least, who it could be. Only saw the girl leading the pack, but know that where Claudia goes, the rest of The Untouchables will surely follow.

Gorgeous in a way that money can't buy, and careless in a way that money makes up for, she's never taken personal issue with you. Barely even registers your existence.

From your quick look, you know that it's not just the girls today. It's the guys, too.

All with parents on the college board, they're regarded as campus royalty. Are aptly known as The Untouchables, 'cause the rules that apply to you don't apply to them. They'll likely continue with their lives in a similar manner for years to come, and will pass these attributes off to their offspring, whom they'll name after countries or distant relatives who were once regarded to be regal.

Gathering up the last of the discarded napkins on the table, you take one final, fleeting look just to see if a familiar face is with them.

It's not that you actively want to see him.

You just haven't seen him in the best part of a fortnight, which is odd.

He's been in your section of the Diner near enough every single night of the past three months—but school is starting up again, and he's got appearances to keep.

God-forbid Jeon Jungkook—son of the Admissions Director and heir-apparent to an unholy amount of real estate tied to the university—ever associates with the lowly scholarship kids like you.

The only reason The Untouchables ever come to this Diner is because it's the last remaining place close to the university that hasn't been snapped up and integrated into the campus. You guess it must feel like freedom to them, in a way.

In fact, you know this is the case. Jungkook has told you himself.

Has told you a lot.

Told you far too much.

Such candid honesty from him, shared during the lonely heat of a sweltering summer, is what makes it so jarring when he looks away as soon as his dark eyes meet yours.

Tall, broad, handsome; he's everything the gossip magazines you read during your downtime swoon over, but also everything they warn against. Too pretty for his own good, the resident agony aunt would call him if she were ever to see him. Would assume his ego is far larger than his shoe size; superiority complex embedded into his skin like the ink of his tattoos.

And while you think that perhaps those assumptions could be true, you also know the reality of him; how gentle his hands can be. Helpful, too. Delicate. Ornate, almost, when they fold bills into five petal flowers. Strong, when they grip the back of your neck. Commanding, when they're wrapped around his leather steering wheel.

You shouldn't know the way his car smells. Shouldn't know how he presses the heel of his palm against the wheel when he's reversing, or just how easy it is to clamber into the backseats over the centre console.

But you do, and it rests on your tongue like a dirty little secret desperate to escape: I know you.

You're not sure if you know him better than The Untouchables, but you know him independent of them. Not many people do.

It's rare to find him without Jimin cracking a joke by his side, or Claudia making a slightly mean remark masked as innocent ignorance as she leads him astray.

But summer happened, and so did Jungkook. With his friends away at their holiday homes, and his father's infidelity ripping his family apart at the seams, he'd needed something to stitch himself back together. Let you thread yourself through his very being, and once you'd tied yourself in a pretty little bow around his heart, he'd cut you off.

Is that not what all craftsmen do, though? Discard what no longer serves a purpose?

Memories of him, in all the places you never should have let him in, ravage your thoughts.

The scent of his aftershave lingers on the childhood plushie he used to tease you for having on your bed, but would also automatically hug into his chest every single time he entered your room.

The things he did—and the things he didn't do—corrupt your dreams and leave you restless when you wake.

The smudged mascara under your eyes hides the bags from your lack of sleep, and your only respite is that the little puffs beneath his eyes are extra prominent today. He's tried, too.

For a minute, you feel vindicated.

It doesn't last.

For the past few months, if he's been sleeping badly, you've known about it. Kept him company in this very Diner, or in the basement of a party house he was dumb enough to take you to, forgetting he'd have to return there after summer finished, too.

The walls might not talk, but Jackson Wang certainly does. Jungkook knows it's only a matter of time until his dirty little secrets—no matter how pure they actually are—become the talk of the town.

He always slept well in your bedroom, though.

Funny, that.

He's dressed simply, today: white t-shirt, black jeans, chunky black boots on his feet. It's still warm out, even if the sun does begin to set a little earlier than it had been during the hotter months. He's got no need for a jacket, and you despise how undeniably gorgeous his arms are in the dewy humidity. Tattoos trailing up and down his skin, you'd be forgiven for thinking he was a man of complexities.

Turns out he's just like every other good-for-nothing fuck boy who wasn't worth your time.

The Untouchables sit towards the front of the Diner. Your section is at the back, and there's no way in hell you're deviating from your set section. Not today. Not when he's with them.

"I thought we were free," your colleague, Maria, grumbles as you bring your tray to the counter.

Like you, she's a scholarship kid. Is the one who got you the job at the Diner after you both moved into the shared house you live in off-campus. Three of you live there—you, Maria, and Taehyung—and you all share the same disdain for The Untouchables.

"It never ends," you tease in reply. Glance over your shoulder, back at the table.

They're laughing and joking about something you can't quite decipher. All of them, except Jungkook.

There's a sternness to him. One of which you'd forgotten about. With one hand on the table, the other in his lap, his thumb fidgets over his tense knuckles. Sunglasses rest on the crown of his head, pushed up into his hair to hold it back off his face. Staring at nothing much, he's chewing up his bottom lip until he feels the familiar burn of your eyes on him. Looks your way.

It's curious, how looking at you halts his body from its self-soothing actions. He no longer nibbles on his lip. His tightly balled first eases.

"What do you think, Kookie?" Claudia drawls, drawing his attention back to the group. "You coming tonight?"

"Hm?" He questions, eyes pulling away from you. He begins to rub his thumb over his knuckles again. "Sorry, was just looking at the menu board. What are we talking about?"

"Party at the Conservatory," Jimin says from across the table. Though he's the one sitting beside Claudia, everyone knows Jungkook is the one that she's really interested in. Has been since their first day of college. "First of the semester. It's one of their birthdays. Reckon it'll be a big one."

On campus, but close enough to the boundaries that it's never infringed upon by security or university officials, the Conservatory isn't what it seems. A boarding house for the creme-de-la-creme of the Botany and Conservation PhD students, it's surrounded by land. Has rows upon rows of greenhouses for their projects.

Of the few times you've been there, you've always thought it was like a maze. The perfect place to get lost. The perfect place to get found, too.

Unfortunately for the PhD students, the house custodian took on the role for one thing and one thing only: to throw the biggest ragers on campus. Knows fuck all about growing anything that isn't illegal. Only managed to get the role, 'cause like the rest of The Untouchables, his dad works high up in the college. He's a few years older than them. Belongs to a different generation of campus royalty, but is keen on making sure his legacy remains.

After all, there ain't no party like a Jackson Wang party.

Namjoon—one of the Botanists and the birthday boy himself—has started padlocking the greenhouses.

Another one of them—Yoongi—minored in mechanical engineering. Has a coin-operated lock on his bathroom door. Makes enough money from a single Jackson Wang party to sustain himself for an entire month.

Hoseok and Jin, the remaining two, are just as messy as Jackson. Have only started PhDs because they don't know what else to do and don't want their youth to abruptly end. Live for the parties; survive for the studying.

"Now, who's told you that?" Jungkook smiles, as if the prospect of showing up at the Conservatory doesn't make him feel a little bit sick. "Jackson?"

"Obviously."

"Well, of course he's gonna tell you it'll be big," Jungkook laughs. "Wants to rope as many of you fuckers in as he can."

"And it works every time," Jimin smirks back. "If everyone thinks it'll be a rager, everyone will want to go. He's a marketing genius, if you ask me."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. Is fond in how he interacts with his friends. Has grown up with most of them. Whether or not they're everyones cup of tea is debatable, but they're his people.

And yet he finds himself glancing back over to the counter. You're not there anymore. Are out back, he assumes. Knows the layout, now. Where the walk-in freezer is. The little nook that you sit in during your break. He doubts any of his friends have ever been in a commercial kitchen, let alone one at a place like this.

While yes, his friends have only ever been good to him, he knows that it isn't the case for everyone they interact with. Is well aware that his friends would be confused beyond belief if they ever found out he knows how to click through the Diner's cash register and find the discount section. Would be even more perplexed if they were to see his initials hidden in one of the codes.

But summer was lonely.

Or at least it was.

Lonely, until it wasn't. Isolating, until he sought solace in someone he can't even bring himself to speak to in front of his friends.

Casting his eyes back down to the table, well aware that he's got no reason to feel as cut up as he does, he fakes a laugh. Looks up again at his friends with a grin so sincere that they'd never guess the way it feels like his heart is in his throat. "Alright. You're on. What time?"

The conversation dissolves into plans—what to wear, what drink to take.

After a summer apart, Jungkook thought it would be nice to be with his friends again. Thought he'd be excited; that he'd welcome them all back with open arms. Ask them about their summers, and lament his time spent here.

When Jimin asks him why he didn't go to the Italian villa his parents normally insist they spend the summer at, Jungkook shrugs.

"Dad has some stuff to sort out, so it was better to stay here," he says, minimising the reality of what really happened. Even you don't know for certain. All you know is that his father did something incredibly immoral, to the point where Jungkook can't even stand to look at him.

Is why he spent all those nights in the diner.

Was confusing at first. He was always angry. Always frowning. Always ordering black coffees and nothing else, huddled up in the corner booth, away from the world.

But with summer comes monsoons, and with monsoons come terrible conditions for walking home.

He expected you to say no when he offered you a ride. You expected to say no, too—but then a please and thank you had escaped your lips.

A routine grew. Habits formed.

Curious little thing, habits are. 21 days. That's all the time they take to develop.

Jungkook spent 63 days of summer with you in varying capacities. Enough time to learn a habit three times over.

The one that haunts him most is how it felt to have your hand beneath his on his gear stick. Finds the absence of you when he drives unbearable. Knows he's got no one to blame but himself; not just for creating distance, but also for minimising it in the first place.

He's the one who offered you a lift. He's the one who messaged you on your days off to see if you fancied going for a drive. He's the one who didn't turn the AC on just to get you shaking your jacket off your shoulders.

And he's the one that drove you out to the coast one evening for no other reason than wanting to hear the waves. He's the one who opened up to you about his family. He's the one that made things more than what they were.

Had walked along the shore with you, too scared to hold your hand beneath the lunar light. Opted for playful banter instead, nudging you into the lapping waves.

But the waves got bigger, and Jungkook's unbridled desire to have you close did just the same. Like always, he took things too far. Drenched in sea water, you'd laughed with him for the entire ride home.

Invited him in. Said, "The salt will ruin your clothes. We should wash them."

"Hand wash only," he'd said, pinging his damp t-shirt against his chest. It stuck to him in such a way you learned all of his edges before you ever saw him naked—not like there was much time between these two instances. Ended up in your shower with him, clothes beneath your feet, the excuse of hand washing disregarded the second he had you naked.

You learned three things about Jungkook in that shower.

The first is that he giggles. Lips on yours, hands clutching your jaw, whenever the water was a little too intrusive, he'd separate with a laugh. Would kiss you again, a smile still on his face. Would pretend as if he wasn't giggling.

But he was, and it was lovely.

The second was that he's the type to lean his head forward, not tip it back. With his hands pressed to the shower tiles behind you as your fingers wrapped around his thick shaft, he let his head dip to his chest. Gave him ample opportunity to press kisses to the top of your head—or at least it did until you got to your knees and started taking his hard cock in your mouth.

"Shit," he had husked. Whined. Praised. "Fuck. You're so fuckin' good at that."

It was around then that you became aware he was a head pusher, too.

Almost as if he was saving the best until last, the third thing you learned was how he likes to cum; in your sheets, cock buried in your pussy, your hands clasped above your head. Missionary, 'cause he likes to kiss you through it. In your bed, 'cause he likes losing himself in everything you are. Prefers finishing inside you, but you refuse to fuck him without a condom so he never gets exactly what he wants. It's close enough, though.

Spent weeks—months—laying unfair claim to your body, and now he can't bring himself to look in your direction. It infuriates you.

But more than anything else, it embarrasses you.

Even your reflection laughs at you. Cackles 'told you so' every time you look in the mirror.

You always wondered why you never heard much about Jungkook's hook ups around campus. Everyone knows about Jimin and how his cock has been perpetually wet since the first day of freshers week, but there's always been a secrecy when it comes to Jungkook.

It's something you've teased him about; in your sheets, bodies clammy, his heart beating so fast in his chest you'd been forgiven for thinking he'd just run a marathon.

"When do I have to sign it?" You had giggled.

"Sign what?" He'd husked, voice all wispy and fucked out.

"The NDA," you'd replied as if it was obvious. "It's been, like, what? A month? Surely it's about time you made sure I kept my mouth shut like all your other girls do?"

On your front, your arms were folded over his chest, and he was gently rearranging the pretty little updo he'd made a mess of. Though he was looking at his hands as he replied, you kept your eyes on his. Studied his sincerity.

"Reason you don't hear about other girls is 'cause there aren't any."

A smile twitched at the corner of your lips, but you didn't let it shine for him.

"Sure."

There was a small jerk to his torso as a breathy smirk formed on his face.

"You think I can't be trusted?"

"I think it's foolish to trust any man."

His deep, dark eyes sank down to focus on yours. Offered you all the sincerity you'd be searching for, and more.

"That's all I am, huh?" He'd challenged you. "Just another one of your men?"

"One of the many," you'd teased just to rile him up a little.

"Ah," he'd played along. "So that's why I always have to wear a condom?"

With a saccharine smirk on your lips, you'd gotten back in position, legs straddled over his hips. Had kissed him. Whispered, "No. That's just because I know it annoys you."

"You annoy me all the time," he'd mumbled into your lips, hands gripping your waist to get you grinding against his still sensitive cock. Barely fifteen minutes since he'd last finished, there was no way he was ready to go again.

"Hm?" You'd hummed against his kisses, then began to work your way down his neck in a way that always got him a little moany. "If I'm so annoying, why are you getting hard again, baby?"

"You can be annoying and hot," he told you as he desperately tried to not let his insatiable need for you show.

"Is that how you like your girls?" You'd ribbed once more, just to piss him off a little. It was never serious. Never something you would actually fret over.

Perhaps you should have done, but then he told you with a little too much candour, "No. It's how I like my girl. Singular."

Loose lips sink ships, and Jungkook was one iceberg away from greeting the ocean floor. Closing his lips back down on yours, he was making sure you were just as insatiable for him as he was for you. He didn't cum again that evening, even if you did more times than you cared to count.

A greedy lover, is Jeon Jungkook. Edacious.

And so you understand, now, why the girls he gets entangled with stay silent; how the hoaxes he plays leave them utterly hysterical. They're subject to silence, because who would possibly believe all those sweet little lies he tells? How mad would they be considered if they tried to convince anyone he has a heart?

His brazen lack of humanity is proven when he comes to pay for the table. Any of them could have done it. Yet he elects to stand in front of your till and wait for you to serve him.

Have you not served him enough?

You refuse to utter a single word in his direction. Don't look at him, don't give him any satisfaction. He can read it for himself, he can pay, and he can fuck off.

"Keep the change," he mumbles tossing down the bills—but like fuck are you gonna keep anything he gives you.

He begins to walk away, a little shrunken in his stature.

"Excuse me, sir."

Stopping dead in his tracks, Jungkook is perplexed to hear you address him so coldly.

"Your change," you say, holding a closed hand out for him to hold his own hand beneath. He doesn't want to cause a scene. Obliges. Is surprised when notes, not coins, fall into his palm.

More specifically, notes folded into the shape of flowers. His handiwork, he's certain. Was something he used to do in the early hours of your late night diner shifts. If he said something a little mean, or bickered with you a little too hard, he'd fold his notes up like posies and give them to you as a remedy.

Never used those notes to buy you real flowers, mind you.

Back when things were still easy, you pulled him up on it. Told him that you'd be far easier to seduce with a little wooing. He'd told you that you were easy to seduce regardless.

You didn't speak to him for the rest of your shift.

Ended it with fourteen folded bills in the shape of a bouquet, and when the backseat windows of his car had a thick veil of condensation coating them that same evening, he'd drawn you flowers on them.

"No point in flowers," he'd told you. "They just wither up and die."

Which is funny, 'cause it kinda looks like Jungkook is doing that very same thing right in this moment. He goes to speak, but nothing comes out.

Disappointing, you think, then realise of course he is. Has done nothing but disappoint you.

You smile. Jungkook looks like he wants to cry. Good.

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

21 repetitions. That's how many times it takes to form a habit. You know this.

You also know that 90 days of this repetition will form a habit to last a lifetime.

As you hook up your apron, and free your hair of the ribbon that had been tightly wrapped around your ponytail, you know these are 'lifetime' habits. Apron, then ponytail. Always.

But when you say goodbye to Maria, and ask if she'll be at home this evening, you find yourself leaning into a recently formed habit. It's not anything particularly noteworthy. Not something anyone would notice.

Well, not anyone who matters. You don't think Jungkook counts as someone who matters, anymore.

But he'd noticed; how you'd started glancing across to his parking spot whenever you clocked out. Had teased you for it. Asked you if it was the highlight of your day, seeing him there, as if it wasn't the highlight of his.

You should have known the playful banter when he told you not to get used to it wasn't really banter at all.

Yet here you are, glancing across to his parking spot only to see it empty.

It's not even like it's his spot. Whenever he's with his friends, they walk. Live right on campus, so don't need to drive, and if they do, they'll park right by the doors.

In the height of summer, when the lot was empty and Jungkook wasn't driving for his sake but for yours, he liked to park in the far corner. Said dumb shit about not wanting any weirdos scratching it. Whined and moaned whenever someone performed the very human act of parking next to the only other car in an empty parking lot.

"So many spaces!" He'd blather on. Would speak with his hands. Get deliberately more animated, 'cause it always made you laugh. "And they choose here?!"

The memories make you smile, until the yellow headlights of another car flood into the parking lot. They reveal what's right in front of you; a crowd of cars and not a single one of them you care for.

It's not like you cared for Jungkook, either. Was just something to pass the time when the streets were quiet and his head was loud.

In turn, you gave him quiet, and he made your summer feel loud.

But the leaves are turning brown and the water in the roadside puddles is becoming stale. The seasons have changed and so has the nature of your interactions. It's fine. You don't care. Really. Couldn't think of anyone you'd want to hang around less. Would rather die than associate with The Untouchables.

You never needed a lift, not really. Especially not when it always took you an hour to get home 'cause Jungkook just wanted to keep on driving.

Grumbling to yourself just to try and divert your mind from thoughts of him, your heart almost skips a beat when your phone vibrates in your pocket. For a second, you wonder if it could be him.

Where you at? It could read. I'm here.

Or maybe, I miss you.

I can't sleep without you.

This is so stupid. Can I come over?

It won't say of those things and you damn well know it.

Your text thread is dormant. The last message is from you, two weeks prior.

You: you not coming in tonight?

You: you'll be pleased to know my fairy godmother turned a pumpkin into a carriage to make sure i got home safe x

You: ... at least let me know if ur alive?

Rolling your eyes at how mortifying your desperation feels, the scowl that settles into your expression is comical. It's like you're fighting with the wind that's threading itself through your hair.

Pulling your phone out, the scowl only intensifies.

Jackass Wang: party tonight

You: so????

One thing about Jackson is that he's not gonna leave anyone on read, especially when he's trying to drum up attendees for his parties.

Jackass Wang: so i haven't seen you around for a while, montgomery

"Fuckin' Montgomery," you mutter at the nickname.

It's the one that all of Jungkook's friends seem to refer to you as, as if you don't have a personality outside of your job.

Still, at least Jackson is a little bit inventive with it. Calls you Monts. Monty, Monstera Plant, Monte Carlo, and god knows what else. If it starts with 'Mon,' he's found a way to end it with a cheeky smirk and smug anticipatory look in your direction, as he awaits your reaction.

You: i like it better when i don't see you x

Jackass Wang: you know that isn't true. loverboy will be there. come with him. or don't. i don't care. you can bring your little friends with you.

You: they'd rather die :) x

Jackass Wang: y'know, you're replying an awful lot for a girl who's not interested ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

You: you just can't take no for an answer

Jackass Wang: yes i can - but you haven't said no yet. c'mon. loverboy has been moping around all week. i can't be arsed with his mardy ass energy all evening.

You: so don't invite him???? i don't see why it's my problem?????

The fact that you don't need clarification of who Jackson means is proof enough that perhaps Jackson's onto something.

Jackass Wang: conservatory any time after 9. be there or be square montgomery. or don't be. i'm sure loverboy can get his dick wet without you, but it's easier for everyone if he doesn't.

You: charming x

Jackass Wang: it's why the ladies love me.

You: all of them except this one, apparently. have a nice party. stay away from the drugs.

Jackass Wang: can't be tamed, monte carlo. nor can loverboy. come keep him company.

The block button towards the top of your message thread looks incredibly tempting. Just a single click and you'll never have to deal with Jackson Wang and his dumb parties ever again.

Part of you can't believe you've ever been associated with them, as it is.

Summer defied the conventions of the life you've built for yourself. You weren't the person you thought you were.

Kicking off your shoes when you arrive home, the door slams shut behind you. A gentle voice calls through to check if it's you.

"Maria's still working," you say as you walk into the kitchen, tossing your bag down on the floor and your phone on the counter.

Taehyung, your best friend since your first week at college, is cooking himself dinner, but offers you a spoon of the tomato sauce he's making. Humming as you taste it, you're amazed by how he manages to make even the simplest thing delicious.

"S'good. What is that? Cumin?"

Nodding, he smiles. "A little paprika, too. You want some?"

His hair is dishevelled, blonde and sunkissed from the sweltering summer skies. He always looks great with a tan; radiant and full of youth.

Shaking your head, you really don't have an appetite. "Think I'm gonna have an early night."

He's about to reply when your phone buzzes. Both of you glance down. Your skin feels red hot, and when Taehyung almost chokes on the spoonful of sauce he's just tried, he's all sorts of confused.

"Why the fuck is Jackson Wang messaging you?"

"Hmm?" You hum as if you have no idea what he's talking about. Realise from the look on his face that he doesn't buy it for a second. "Oh! That Jackson Wang. Think he sent a text to his entire contact list. Something about a party."

"No," Taehyung asserts. "Absolutely not. You cannot bullshit out of this one."

"It's not bullshit," you whine as you pretend to look in the fridge for something to drink. Settle on a beer left by one of Taehyung's friends at a party held last semester. It wasn't quite a Jackson Wang level party, but nothing ever is. "He's just trying to drum up numbers for his stupid party tonight."

Taehyung is many things, but stupid he is not. Though he's blonde (thanks to a bottle of bleach and a few too many jack and cokes), he bends all the stereotypes. His tuition is covered by a scholarship for academic excellence.

"Don't give me that bull."

"It's not bull!"

"So you're telling me, out of everyone at our college, the Jackson Wang is texting you to make up numbers for his party?"

"Yes!" you exclaim, partially a little offended at it being such an unfathomable idea. "And he said you can come too, so maybe you're the one he's really after!"

His expression is flat. You are paper thin.

He's known you long enough to know when you're giving him half-truths.

He also knows you spent the summer alone in this house, and that there's a new toothbrush in the bathroom next to yours.

"You're hooking up with him, aren't you?"

"No!"

Out of everyone to be accused of sleeping with, Jackson Wang is, like, the worst of the worst. He's handsome, sure, but he's also slept with pretty much every girl on campus. Is a teenage boy in a grown adult's body. You'd rather not fornicate with a guy who still finds 'your mum' jokes funny.

Taehyung gasps at your immediate denial. "You are!"

"I'm not!"

"All that talk about saving it for someone special, and you mean to tell me you went and lost it to Jackson fuckin' Wang?!"

Everything about this conversation is making you want to punch yourself in the face. The topic of sex, and just why you've never gotten around to it, has dominated many conversations around this dining table. If you have to discuss it again, you might move out.

"Oh my God," you whine, throwing your head back. "We are not having this conversation."

"Yes, we are."

"No, we're not, because I didn't lose my virginity to Jackson Wang!" You stress. The more you think about it, the more offended you are.

"To Jackson Wang," Taehyung echoes, as he begins to join invisible dots. "But you did lose it to someone."

"No," you insist, but Taehyung refuses to buy it. Knows you too damn well.

He always thought he'd know when you lost it. That it'd be a boy you'd been dating. Committed to. Someone good. Someone worthy. Not someone you keep in the shadows.

"There's something you're not telling me," he frowns. "What the fuck happened this summer?"

With a sigh so deep it's a miracle you're still breathing, you relent. Never signed one of those NDA's you're convinced Jungkook must hand out like candy, as if he's some sort of celebrity and not just some college reprobate.

"Jungkook," you feebly admit. Take a sip on your beer. Don't look at Taheyung, 'cause you're afraid to see his reaction. "Wasn't Jackson. Was Jungkook."

You tell Taehyung everything. How Jungkook never knew you were a virgin. How he still doesn't. How you blame yourself for your hurt, but him for not getting you any band aids to help deal with it; for not kissing you better when he was the one to cause you such hurt in the first place.

As you recite you memories, you play a game against yourself: take a sip every time you want to cry.

By the time you've told Taehyung the nitty-gritty truth, the bottle of wine that had been in the fridge is finished, as well as your beer.

"I can't believe this," Taehyung says for what feels like the billionth time.

There's a certain shame that comes with Taehyung's confusion.

Embarrassment, like the way Jungkook would cringe at himself whenever he stumbled on his words, or the way you'd covered your reddening cheeks with your hands when he teased you for looking at him in the way you did.

Remorse of time wasted before him, and time wasted with him.

Regret of the things you did and the things he didn't.

It's all very confusing. Exhausting. If you were to really think about it, you'd spend a week in bed with a box of tissues. Would ask Taehyung why he didn't warn you that a heart could feel this horrid.

But he did, and you damn well know it.

Shrugging, you reach for the bottle and split the final few glugs between your glasses.

"We were just bored," you play it off. "Had nothing better to do. No one better to do."

But Taehyung shakes his head. "You don't have to do that, yanno. Pretend like it didn't matter. It's okay that it did. Even if he is a prick, and even if he's no better than the rest of them. It's okay that it hurts."

You're silent when he says this.

Despite your teasing, you never really thought Jungkook was much of a player.

But his friends are back now, and you've been relegated to the sidelines. Doesn't matter if he spent weeks—months—playing in no field but yours. Greener pastures have presumably sprouted. Your turf is wrecked from his carelessness, and he's left you to heal yourself while he goes and wrecks another.

Whoever he was pretending to be in the summer isn't who he is now that his friends are back—but when they're laughing and joking in the basement of the Conservatory that evening, Jungkook knows which version of himself he prefers.

"You need to get laid," Jimin tells Jungkook with a laugh. "Never seen a man look so bloody miserable at a party."

Of all the things Jungkook needs, getting laid is not one of them. In fact, he thinks it would be a very sensible idea if he never got laid again. Sex is messy. People get all emotional over it.

Or more so, he gets all emotional over it.

Had never been the type to, before. Always thought it was something that just happened to other people. Not to him.

He pushes the thoughts aside. Feels a little sick. Shrugs off Jimin's remark.

"If I wanted to get laid, I would get laid."

"So why don't you? Will do us all a favour. Claudia's been—"

"I couldn't give a fuck," Jungkook interrupts Jimin. "I'm not interested."

He never has been. Wants nothing to do with this university, and the men that run it, and so would never date one of their daughters.

They're all corrupt. Every last one of them. All cheat on their wives. All throw their families under the bus for their own selfish exploits. His own father's affair has proven this to him.

Jungkook pities his friends. Just because their parents haven't fucked up yet, doesn't mean they won't.

"Oi, Loverboy," Jackson calls from across the room, breaking the tension only to replace it with a headache for Jungkook. "Where's your little girlfriend? I told her to come."

"Who?" Jimin chirps.

Jungkook grates his jaw. Is deadly serious when he says, "Leave it, Jackson."

"Trouble in paradise for our lovebirds, huh?"

"I said leave it."

"Who the fuck is he talking about?" Jimin continues to ask, incredibly curious about this turn of events. Leave town for a couple of months, he thinks, and everything changes.

"No one."

"That one from the diner," Jackson just continues fuckin' talking. Jungkook wants to scream. "The one with a stick up her ass—"

"Jackson, cut it out," Jungkook snaps. "She's no one. Just fuckin' leave it."

"You ashamed, huh, Loverboy?" Jackson berates him a little bit. He isn't trying to be a dick, but he thinks Jungkook is acting like a tool. Jackson is no saint, but at least he doesn't ever pretend to be something he's not. "Poor girl. Wear her like your favourite pair of shoes all summer and then throw her to the trash when your friends come back? I thought better of you. So did she, probably. Shame."

Of all the people Jungkook ever expected to receive lessons in morality from, Jackson Wang was not the one. He parades himself around the Conservatory like Hugh Hefner reincarnated, his class attributed to money and not behaviours.

"The fuck have you been doing this summer, Kook?" Jimin laughs, utterly dumbfounded by his reactions.

They've all had their fair share of less than conventional lovers. If Jungkook has been fucking around with a girl from the Diner, then so what? Who cares?

"Nothing," Jungkook snaps.

It's not that he's ashamed.

It's that you're separate.

When he's with you, all of this—the bullshit of college life and calamity of his family falling apart—dissolves into nothingness. He doesn't have to think. Finds himself at ease.

If you were to ever become a part of his life—his real one, not the one he got so used to living in with you over the summer—then it'd all change.

He doesn't want that.

He wants you to be a safe haven.

A refuge point can't be in the midst of a fire, though. He has to keep you away. At arms length.

But god damn, he wishes you would come and put out his fire. He's struggling. Finds existing without you so fucking hard. Doesn't know at which point he became so dependent, but knows his oxygen is running low.

He's suffocating. Isn't sure how much longer he can keep this up.

"Yeah, sure seems like nothing," Jimin smirks with a shake of his head as Jungkook storms off to get some much needed air. "Oi, Jackson, what was that all about?"

With a shrug, and yet another girl on his arm, Jackson grins. Puts on a pathetic little voice to mimic Jungkook's tantrum. "Fink baby boy has a wittle cwush."

"Girl from the diner?" Jimin implores, still smirking at Jackson's dumb humour. "Which one?"

"You really have to ask?"

For all of his mystery, Jungkook has never been a man of subtleties. His eyes give him away.

They always have done.

When he was looking at the menu board earlier that day? It was obvious.

Before college broke up for summer, and how Jungkook would always cast his eyes down to his hands whenever you, specifically, came to take their order? It was obvious.

How Jungkook would always make sure he was on the side of the booth that gave him ample opportunity to steal glances of you? It was so fucking obvious.

Sometimes he'd laugh at the slightly sarcastic remarks you gave Claudia whenever she would ask irritating questions about the menu.

When they were deciding where to eat, Jungkook would suggest the Montgomery's Diner, always.

So, no, Jimin doesn't really have to ask.

"Stupid prick," he sighs, sipping on his beer. Loves Jungkook to absolute death, but will never understand him. Figures that maybe you do. Worries that Jungkook is about to wreck it all. He calls after Jackson, "She here tonight?"

"Invited her," he calls back. "But she's got an attitude problem to rival his. Fuck knows if she's around. You'll feel her ice before you see her."

Which is funny, because the lingering summer heat sticks to your skin as you nervously meander up a driveway you know all too well.

The Conservatory is decidedly not a conservatory.

It's a complex. A maze of buildings, and greenhouses, and fuck knows what else. You've no interest in gardening, but if excelling at it meant living somewhere like this, maybe you'd consider taking it up as a hobby.

The buildings are mostly redbrick, with large windows, and even larger doors. It's the kind of place you'd imagine a Duke of some far away land prancing about in. Playing croquet, or secretly courting a lowly village girl that his parents will never approve of.

The irony isn't lost on you.

"Wait, how do I look?" Taehyung asks for what feels like the hundredth time. "Not too dressy?"

"You're wearing a waistcoat," you reply, face twisted in affectionate condemnation. He looks great, but he also does look far too dressy. It's his 'look', though, and one that'll get him attention, both good and bad.

If Kim Taehyung walked around with the arrogance his handsome face warranted him with, he'd be the heartthrob of the campus. You think even Claudia would want a slice of him—and given his distaste for the elite yet pining desire to be on their level, it'd be quite the complex pairing.

All of the other men here are in t-shirts, but Taehyung has never been like other men. It's part of the reason you like him so much.

One thing, however, you don't like about Taehyung is his domineering need to 'fix' things. It comes from a place of love, and he only ever does it because he cares, but it's not always in your best interest.

When he told you to go and get changed out of your work uniform, you thought he was planning on taking you to a bar. That you'd be drowning your sorrows over wine you can't afford.

You would never agree to go to the Conservatory. Not now.

Which is why he didn't tell you of his plan.

Instead, he ordered a cab and didn't give you the chance to protest. You were already halfway there by the time you realised.

"Why don't we just go home?" You whine, tugging on his arm as you stand by the gate that leads through the gardens—the same ones you used to traipse around in with Jungkook. "We don't need to be here."

"Uh-uh," he shakes his head, firmly standing his ground. "I've avoided this place for two years, and the second my back is turned it becomes your new home. The least you could do is invite me round for dinner."

"It's not my new home—"

"MONTGOMERY!"

The voice of Jackson Wang yelling across the front lawn makes you want to shrivel up and die. Sink down into the ground. You'd make great compost for the botanists.

"Y'know, you and Loverboy really need to stop lying so much," he says with an incredibly intoxicated grin as he lumbers towards you. You'll never admit it, but part of you is pleased to see him. "First you saying you weren't coming, then him telling everyone nothing happened between you. Both as bad as one another."

Nothing happened between you.

It doesn't surprise you, but it does sting. And it also confuses you. Why on earth would you be a topic of conversation? The people here know you as Montgomery. The girl from the diner. You're nothing but a background character to them.

"What did he say?" You ask, disregarding everything else, not even bothering to introduce Taehyung. He's finding all of this incredibly bewildering.

"Oh, Jimin was grilling him," Jackson waves his hands around, disregarding it. "Kept saying you were no one. Refused to admit that he'd practically tied his laces with yours for the whole summer. Don't you worry, though, Monte Carlo. I had your back. Set the record straight."

Jackson Wang having your back isn't something you ever expected to happen.

Jeon Jungkook's absolute denial of your clandestine affaire de cœur is, disappointingly, something you expected.

It doesn't mean that it comes without hurt. If anything, it's far more visceral, for you only have yourself to blame. These wounds are self-inflicted, even if they're carved with a knife Jungkook crafted out of silly affirmations he never should have made.

"Where is he?" You ask, cold in your tone.

Jackson shrugs. "Try the basement. S'where I last saw him."

As Jackson saunters off to find another poor partygoer to mildly offend, you're left with a bad taste in your mouth. You've been irritated since you saw Jungkook earlier that day.

How he can just show up at the diner and act like he doesn't even know you, let alone knows what it's like to wake up next to you, is beyond insulting.

"C'mon," Taehyung urges you along. "I need a drink, and you could use three."

Conversely, you think you need an entire bottle.

A bottle of what, you don't care. Just something strong. Anything other than the shitty, overpriced whisky Jungkook always insisted on drinking.

"Fine. But we're not going to the basement."

It's perplexing to walk the halls of the Conservatory without Jungkook; to pass by strangers who have no idea who you are, but who know and admire him as if he's some sort of Hollywood celebrity.

They don't know him like you do. Don't know what it feels like to have his hand around their throat, or his fingers gently intertwined with theirs. They've never heard him laugh like you have.

And yet when you're a few drinks deep, and on the verge of calling a cab to go home, you hear that laugh again and wonder how he can bear to be happy right now.

Glancing up, his face is unreadable. The lights are dim, and the shadows obscure the painful furrowing of his brows. He looks just the same as he did back in the diner earlier that day. Perplexed. In pain. Somehow perfectly fine, too.

The group he's in is small. Some of them you know, some of them you don't.

Claudia sits across from him on the lap of some other guy, yet she doesn't take her eyes off Jungkook. She laughs a little harder at his jokes. Directs questions to him. Flirts with other people in front of him to no avail.

Not even now, after summer when her skin is sunkissed and her radiance is rejuvenated, can she keep his attention.

In fact, none of them can once he spots you from across the room. The big lights are off, fairy lights strung up, and a sunset lamp pours a clementine hue over you.

Summer becomes you, he thinks—adores—from afar.

The year is a body, and you're eternally condemned to its heart. That's where he'll keep you. Where you belong.

Had it been spring—the brain of the year—when he'd been hauled up in that diner, he never would have let things get as far as they did.

Had it been winter—the cunt of the year, for lack of a better term—he would have let it get that far, and he wouldn't have felt bad about it, either.

But Autumn is drawing close. The gut. The time to trust his intuition, and he damn well knows it.

A hand wraps itself around your wrist, dragging you away from his car crash eyes. Jungkook slips into the dull shadows of the room, right where he belongs. Was foolish of you to ever think otherwise.

"Do you mind?" you snap, but let yourself be dragged away regardless. Part of you hopes it'll make Jungkook do something. You're not sure what. Just something.

The man who is leading you astray is familiar. Recognisable. Park Jimin.

Though he's not aggressive, he definitely isn't gentle as he leads you out to the gardens. Lets go of your wrist by an overgrown shrub just beyond the benches that are made for drunken DMC's. He isn't after one of them. Wants the facts.

"Cut the bullshit," he says.

"No hello?" You chirp. "Nice to see you? Or better yet, an introduction?"

"You know who I am," Jimin tells you, expression flat. You hate that the arrogant fucker is right. "But I know fuck all about you, and apparently you're the reason Jungkook is walking around like death warmed up. So cut the bull. What happened?"

Frankly it's none of Jimin's business. Even if he's done you wrong, Jungkook trusted you. You're not gonna throw that back in his face and air his dirty laundry—especially not considering that Jimin is Jungkook's friend. If Jungkook wanted him to know, he'd have told him.

"Nothing," you tell him. "Barely even know him."

Jimin sighs. Jackson was right. There's a reason why you and Jungkook got along so well. Are both insufferable.

Glancing behind you, Jimin raises his brows.

You turn to face his line of vision, and fail to hide your surprise when you see Jungkook by the back door. Like a deer in headlights, he's frozen in place, his darling bambi eyes so startled he almost looks scared.

"So if you barely know him," Jimin continues as you and Jungkook stare one another out. "Why the fuck is he looking at you like he's seen a ghost?"

It takes a second or so, but you manage to pull your gaze away. Turn back to face Jimin. Shrug. Play dumb.

"Mistaken identity."

"Oh, I get it," Jimin smirks, knowing you aren't gonna give him an easy way out. Needs to bamboozle answers out of you. "You both went to the same bullshitting classes over summer? Is that it?"

You're surprised to find yourself smiling. Surprised that you find humour in Jimin's words. Surprised that you aren't rolling your eyes.

He's always been the Untouchable that has annoyed you the most. Is too loud. Laughs at the most obnoxious things.

"Top of the class," you reply because it somehow feels okay to joke with him. Perhaps spending so much time with Jungkook has lowered you Park Jimin-related intolerance. Not cured it, by any means, but definitely made it easier to manage.

"Academic rivals," Jimin supposes, realising that maybe there's a little more to you than he's ever given you credit for. "That's pretty hot."

"He seemed to think so," you lament, knowing that you're revealing a far more truthful rendition of your time spent with Jungkook. Or at least, admitting that time was spent together.

With a sigh, you walk a little further into the garden. Cross your arms. Look back over your shoulder to the door, only to find Jungkook is gone. It shouldn't upset you like it does, but you find your lips pressing together in a small pout.

"Look," Jimin says, exhaling a breath so deep you're sure his lungs must be empty. He comes to stand beside you, looking across the vast expanse of the gardens. "I'm not asking for your life story. If you don't give a shit about Kook, then that's fine, I'll leave you alone. But he's my best friend, and I've never seen him like this."

Glancing at Jimin, there's a taut discomfort on your face. Guilt, almost—but you've not done anything wrong. It's on him. He's the one who chose for things to be this way.

"I give a shit," you quietly admit as you look back out towards the garden, then sigh out a pitiful laugh. "You know him. You know what he's like. Of course I give a shit."

Quite honestly you think it's impossible to not fall for Jungkook. He's everything you're hardwired to appreciate: hardworking, charming, incredibly funny. You lost count of how many nights dissolved into laughter with him. Had never known your cheeks to hurt so much.

He was gentle, too. Stroked his thumbs against your cheeks just as often as he made them ache.

It's your heart that's aching now, and he's not around to soothe your woes.

Back inside, Jungkook feels so viscerally unwell that he thinks he might be sick. Or maybe he's actually dying. One of the two.

This is everything he didn't want. You were supposed to be separate. Supposed to be a sanctuary away from this all.

You're in the thick of it, now. Jimin is grilling you, and Jungkook doesn't know what to do. It's too much. All of it. The party, the people, the fact that you look at him with ice in your eyes when he knows damn well they used to harbour the warmest of fires.

Beelining for the basement, he kind of hopes the ground will swallow him up. Stop him from making the bad decisions he seems to find so god damn irresistible.

As he yanks open the small fridge at the back of the basement, Jungkook doesn't care what he drinks. Just needs something to help soothe his fragile mine; to make him feel better, 'cause lord knows you won't.

Reaching for a beer, he doesn't ask around to see if it belongs to anyone. Finders keepers. He's an Untouchable. This place is basically his by birthright. No one is gonna argue against him.

But Kim Taehyung isn't just anyone.

"So, when you apologise for being a gargantuan pillock, are you planning on also trying to win her over? Or will you just clean your conscience and wipe yourself clean of her, too?"

Jungkook's jaw tenses as his teeth grit together. "Don't know what you're on about."

"Had a girl in tears at my dinner table earlier tonight," Taehyung exaggerates. Just wants Jungkook to feel as awful as he knows you do. "Your friends might not give a shit about your well-being, but I give a shit about mine."

And for some reason, this irks Jungkook. He gives a shit about you. Cares so much he's been torturing himself by staying away. Thinks it's better for you both.

If it truly was, neither of you would be feeling so gut-wrenchingly awful.

He knows you're angry. You've made that perfectly clear.

But he also knows you do cry when you're frustrated. Was a lesson learned when you were stressed over the diner roof leaking one night during the monsoons when no one else was in to help you fix it.

It was the first night he offered you a lift home. Had taken pity on you. Had also liaised with the college maintenance guy to check it out the next day, even if the diner wasn't technically part of campus.

Because Jungkook does give a shit about your well-being, and he refutes the claim that he doesn't.

"So what? You here to tell me to stay away?" Jungkook scoffs as he prizes off the cap of the bottle. Swigs down a sip. Then another, 'cause he's not wankered enough for this.

"I'm here to tell you that you're an asshole," Taehyung asserts. "She didn't deserve to be used by you for the summer and then tossed to the trash just because semesters starting up again."

The roll of Jungkook's eyes is so weighted that it almost feels as if they'll get lodged in the back of his skull. The last time they'd rolled that deep was in bed with you. Back then it was because his body was so divinely out of sync that his muscles couldn't keep up with his actions. This time, pleasure is the furthest thing away from how he's feeling.

"You want me nowhere near her, but the fact I'm staying away makes me an asshole?" Jungkook petulantly laughs. "Can't ever fuckin' win, can I?"

"This isn't about winning or losing," Taehyung argues back. "She trusted you."

Jungkook doesn't understand what that has to do with anything. He's not betrayed your trust. Has kept all your secrets. Tried his best to keep you secret, too.

"What was she to you, huh? Some project? A virginity to get under your belt? Something to pass the time—"

"I don't know who you think I am," Jungkook snaps, fed up being accused of something he's not. "But not once did I ever treat her badly, okay? I—" He cuts himself off. Doesn't know how to articulate himself. "We— Look, you just don't get it. You don't know me. I was nothing but fuckin' nice. Okay? And she was nice. And it was nice. And we..." He trails off. Realises what Taehyung said. "The fuck do you mean, 'virginity to get under your belt'?"

It's about now that Taehyung realises he's said too much.

But every cloud has a silver lining.

"Talk to her," Taehyung shrugs as he begins to walk away. "Not me."

He leaves a scowling Jungkook by the fridge. Heads to the stairs, and once he reaches the top, is yanked away by a small but mighty force.

"You," Jimin asserts. "With me. Now."

The sound of three knocks on the bathroom door serve as a signal: let me in.

A panicked text from Taehyung had practically begged you to go to the basement bathroom and wait for him there. Said there was drama that he needed to talk with you about.

And you believed him, 'cause you're a few too many drinks deep and honestly could do with the respite.

Perched up on the countertop by the sink, you reach over and unhook the latch, giving Taehyung the all clear to come on in. Your legs languidly swing and your shoulders are slumped, this party well and truly over for you.

The only reason you're still here is because you know Taehyung's secretly been revelling in his first Conservatory party. You fear he'll want to come every weekend, now.

"You better not have your cock out," a playful voice you know all too well jokes, as the door pushes open. Eyes closed as he enters, he shuts the door behind him. Asks, "Am I safe to open my eyes?"

You're gonna kill Taehyung.

In the most loving but brutal way, you will absolutelymurder him for setting you up like this.

"Safe," you grimace.

Jungkook doesn't open his eyes. In fact, he presses them even tighter together. Frowns. "Jimin isn't in here, is he?"

"We've been bamboozled," you sigh, and as much as he doesn't want to, Jungkook smiles at your choice of words. Tips his head down, and open his eyes. Is a little too scared to look your way, for fear of being greeted with wrath.

"Their days are numbered," Jungkook assures you, quickly glancing across to try and work out how you're feeling.

"My sentiments exactly."

Jungkook goes to speak, but you both notice a grating metallic noise by the door. Immediately, Jungkook presses his hand down on the door handle, but there's absolutely no give. It won't budge

"Jimin," he calls, voice strong and domineering through the wooden panels. Hastily painted white, they're chipped and tarnished; covered in numbers and Instagram handles, rumours and declarations of love. It's not your first time locked in this bathroom with Jungkook, but the last was of your own choice. Had been you turning the lock with a smile and glint in your eyes that had promised him trouble. "Open it up."

"No can do," Jimins smugly sings from beyond the door. "Sort your shit out."

Hopping off the counter, you nudge in front of Jungkook to pound against the door with an open fist. Though he steps back, it's still the closest you've been with him since he left your bedroom a couple weeks ago. Part of you laments the fact he moved away from you. Part of him does, too.

"Tae," you try calling instead, hand banging on the door, but you're met with the exact same response.

"Figure it out," he calls back, but also adds, "And if he's still an insufferable asshole in five minutes time, I'll come let you out."

Despite everything, you laugh at this. Not so much because of Taehyung's words, but because Jungkook's face screws up like an old newspaper.

"What is it with him and calling me an asshole?" Jungkook mutters under his breath with a shake of his head.

The bathroom is small—just a toilet and sink built into a cabinet. There's a mirror covering the back wall over it, and another cabinet above it that you assume is filled with empty bottles and misplaced lipglosses. There's barely even enough room to breathe, although there is enough room to make Jeon Jungkook come undone in the least dignified of ways. You should know.

You wish you didn't.

"He calls you one because you are one," you assure him.

"Excuse me?"

"What?" You scoff, hopping back up on the counter, your eyes on his 'cause you want to watch the way he gets nasty. Wanna remind yourself of how horrible he can be. Replace the memories of him in this bathroom, 'cause in all reality, they're actually really lovely. Nice, even. Warm. Everything you're trying to convince yourself he's not. "Gone deaf as well as turned into a massive prick?"

"Jesus Christ," he says, rolling his eyes, turning back to face the door. Shakes at the handle. "Give it a rest."

"Why?" You ask as if butter wouldn't melt on your tongue. "Would it make life easier for you if I just wasn't around?"

Jungkook knows what you're doing. Has bickered with you enough times to understand your tricks. This is how you start; put words in his mouth that he can't defend against.

And so he doesn't try.

"Yep," he declares, turning to face you. "Way easier. Can you tell your friend I'm an asshole, still? Get us out of this place?"

You recline in defiance. Perched up on the counter next to the basin, your back is against a mirror. Legs crossed, you're in the same white summer dress you wore to your first party at the Conservatory.

Nearly everyone had been away for the summer.

You had spent the evening tucked up together on an armchair meant for one, him in the seat, you perched on the armrest, feet in his lap.

"People will talk, y'know," you'd assured him, elbows on your knees, chin in your palms.

"So let them talk," he'd smirked. "What's there to say? We're just sitting?"

It was strange for him to be seen with you. Even Jackson has been confused, but let it slide 'cause another partygoer is another partygoer. He cared for numbers, not names.

"Dunno," you had teased. "Might start talking about the way you look at me."

"Yeah?" He'd husked as his long fingers wrapped around your wrist. Gently pulled you closer.

"Yeah," you'd whispered, the sound of the music keeping your conversation obscure. "How long has it been that you've been looking at me for? A minute, already? Only one more until you fall in love, according to science."

"You tryna make me fall in love with you, Montgomery?"

"No," you'd innocently chirped, then pulled back. "Why? Were you?"

He'd shrugged. Sipped on his beer. "Guess we'll never know."

Looking at him now, you find it hard to believe he's the same person as he was back then.

"Why would I do that?" You feign naivety. "You're not an asshole?"

He doesn't reply. Knows you're going somewhere with this. Leans his back against the wall opposite you and folds his arms as if to say, go on.

"Assholes fuck people over," you state. "You'd never do that. And you'd definitely never spend your summer in some poor girls sheets and then pretend like she doesn't exist in front of your friends—"

"There is it," he confirms. Knew it was coming. Didn't expect you to actually try and speak about things like adults. So fuckin' childish.

"Oh?" You chirp. "So you're well aware of the fact you're an asshole? Good. Glad we have that one sorted out."

"Yep," he confirms, mouth drawing to a thin line.

The fact he isn't engaging in the fight infuriates you. Just proves he doesn't care. That he fucked you over for sport.

"I'm an asshole," he says, voice full of snark. "You know it, I know it. There's no reason why you should want to be around me. No reason why you should waste your time."

"It's so funny," you gasp in fake surprise. "I was thinking the exact same thing! Isn't it so great that you came to this conclusion after you already wasted months of my life?"

He's silent, now. Cowardly.

"Y'know I always knew you were an obnoxious prick," you say, voice now soberly quiet. "But I didn't think you were this cruel, Kook."

"You know that's not—"

"What?" You interrupt, voice growing louder with each question. "Not true? You woke up in my bed one morning, and then never spoke to me again. Who does that? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I don't know!" He shouts, and it surprises you both.

Raking his hand through his hair as he turns away from you, Jungkook wishes he had an answer. Wishes he could explain himself in a way that made sense to you both. Instead, he harshly swallows down his anger. Turns to face you again. Looks like he might cry.

Feels like it, too.

"Why didn't you tell me, huh?" He quietly asks.

"Tell you wha—"

"That you were a virgin."

Your previous thoughts about murdering Taehyung return. Of all the things he could have divulged to Jungkook, and that's what he chose?!

Men, you internally scoff. All fuckin' idiots.

"Hardly relevant, is it?"

"Of course it is," he snaps, turning back to face you. "If I'd have known—"

"You'd have what? Ghosted me sooner? Made it into a fun little competition?"

"I didn't ghost you."

"Gaslighting, too, now are we?" You scoff. "Hold on, let me go and get my bingo card. Things Jungkook does that are absolutely fucking infuriating. Wanna cross it off the list. It's right next to how fast you drive your car, and how much I hate your stupid fucking alarm tone."

"Well good job you never have to hear it again, isn't it?"

"Why not? 'Cause you are ghosting me?"

"No, because this is fuckin' stupid," he says, yanking on the door handle, on the off chance it will finally budge. It doesn't. "You think I'm the devil reincarnated. You don't want me, so why bother with this? This is done. Us. Whatever the fuck it was. You never trusted me in the first place. Would have told me if you did. So just call your friend, tell him I'm an asshole. We're done."

"Oh, well you're two weeks too late for this conversation, don't you think?" you argue back with a cold laugh. "But has it ever occurred to you that my life doesn't revolve around you? That you aren't the reason I'm here? Jackson invited me."

"Ah, so that's what it is?" Jungkook sarcastically exclaims, your insatiable need to fight finally sinking into his skin. "You were just using me, huh? Getting those V-plates off, so you could be ready for him? Is that why you didn't tell me? Huh?"

The mere thought of hooking up with the college's very own Hugh Hefner makes you wanna gag—but if it'll piss off Jungkook, maybe you'll consider it.

"Why would you care if I let him fuck me?" You ask with such pointed anger Jungkook can't help but feel like you're driving knives into his chest. "Do that thing you like with my tongue? You think he'd like my pussy, huh? Maybe I'd let him fuck me raw."

You never let Jungkook go unprotected. Insisted on it each and every time, and he complied even if he was a little pouty about it after you'd been fucking for a while. The trust was there. You were on the pill. He knew he was clean and had told you as such, but it made no difference.

To even suggest you'd let Jackson fuck you raw is laughable.

With a smirk on his lips, Jungkook edges towards you.

Put his hands on your crossed knees. Waits for you to jerk him away—but you don't. Instead, you watch on with salacious confusion. Say nothing. Not even when he uncrosses them, nor when he spreads them apart.

With a hand either side of your head against the mirror, Jungkook stands between your legs.

Looks down at you.

Is so close you can smell his aftershave.

A month ago, in a position like this, you'd have kissed him.

"Hm?" You cock your head. Repeat your question. "You think he'd like my pussy? How long do you think he'd take to cum? Longer than you, I hope."

Jaw tense, Jungkook swallows down the way he wants to curse you out. Closes his eyes. Lets his head dip further, his forehead now resting against the top of your head.

The contact is minimal, but God, you've missed it. Trapped in position by him, you'd forgotten how lovely it was to lose yourself to Jungkook.

"You're not being fair," he whispers. Whines, even.

"Fair?" You laugh, but it's gentle. Matches his tone. "You can hardly take the high ground on fairness, Jungkook."

He nods. Takes a second, and then pathetically begs: "Don't fuck him. Please."

"Why shouldn't I?"

"You know why," he says. Stands straighter, now. Rakes a hand through his hair. Looks down on you with such pained desperation you almost feel bad. He tries to speak, but struggles with his words again. Takes him a few attempts to get anything out. "I didn't like you because I was fucking you. I fucked you because I liked you. You know that. You know it wasn't...Fuck. You know what it was."

The past tense he speaks in cuts you up inside.

Jungkook shrugs in defeat when he's met with silence. Purses his lips. Eyes on yours, they're glassy. Watery, almost.

Yours are just as bad, because what the fuck are you supposed to say to that? He's the one that cut you out. He did this.

"What did I do?" You ask, voice meagre and pathetic. Your vulnerability is mortifying, and yet you just can't help yourself as a tear streaks down your cheek. "What the fuck did I do that was so wrong, Kook?"

The heat of his hand scalds your skin as his thumb wipes away your tears. After his cold shoulder for the past two weeks, your body doesn't know how to respond. Should you be angry? Hurt? Comforted?

All you know is that you're more confused now than you ever were when you first started hooking up with him.

"Nothing," he quietly promises. Holds your cheeks in his hands. Rests his nose beside yours. Is far too close for a man who's been trying to stay away from you. Is beginning to realise that maybe his self-preservation was thinly veiled self-sabotage instead. "I thought I was doing the right thing, but it's been so fuckin' miserable, and then I didn't know how to fix things, and then it was all such a mess and—"

The words Jungkook is yet to speak are lost in the soft press of your lips against his.

Brows furrowed, Jungkook's grip on your face tightens. Keeps you close, 'cause he feels the pressure of your lips waning but doesn't want you to pull away.

And so you don't. Instead you apply more pressure. Harder. Deeper.

It's not like kissing Jungkook is a new experience. You've done it upwards of a thousand times, now. You know his lips and his tongue, and how it likes to flick against yours; his piercings, and the frequency of his moans that vibrate into your mouth.

Kissing Jungkook is just as easy as it is hard. Easy, in the way he takes not a single considered thought. Hard, in how it becomes your only tangible thought for minutes, hours, days afterwards.

An eternity and a millisecond is lost in the kiss, just like the summer that lasted an age and yet was gone with the wind.

When your lips finally part, there's silence. Forehead resting on yours, Jungkook shakes his head ever so gently. Doesn't know how to articulate his thoughts. How to say sorry, or how to fix his mess.

While his logic was flawed, and his execution careless, his intentions had been good. As much as he had a life to go back to, and friends that wouldn't get it, so did you.

He knows they hate him—isn't ignorant to the roll of Maria's eyes every time they walk into Montgomery's, and has experienced Taehyung's disdain first-hand this evening.

He'd spent his summer getting out of the house to avoid the fall-out of his father's infidelity. Knows how much his family is suffering all because of a man who just couldn't control himself. Was trying to be better. Trying not to wreck both of your lives.

As he stands in the dingy bathroom of a party house, the lingering burn of your lips on his still smouldering, he knows that he wrecked you both regardless.

And so it's up to him to put you back together again.

"I'm sorry," you say as you break the kiss, mortified at how stupid of an impulse it had been. You don't that. Not anymore. A month ago, sure, kissing Jungkook in a dingy bathroom at a party house would have been exciting. Now, it just feels embarrassing. "I shouldn't have—"

His lips are on yours again, stealing your words from you. He doesn't want to hear you apologise. Knows that you don't need to. Also knows that he does need to.

"Don't," he quickly says between kisses. "Please, don't say sorry."

"But I—"

"Shut up," he smiles against your lips, shaking his head ever so slightly. He kisses you again, and this time it's soft. Pretty. Poetic, almost in how it makes you feel. And then he speaks, and you're reminded of just how easy it is to adore him, even when you know you shouldn't. "You know how much I've missed this? God, I've missed you so much. Please don't say sorry. I'm sorry. It's on me. I made a mistake, alright? I fucked up."

He pulls back. Has your cheeks in his hands as he makes sure your eyes are on his. They're dark, now, in the dim light of the bathroom you're in, but they've never been warmer.

"I mean it. I'm so fucking sorry," he whispers. Brows furrowed, lips pouty, he's got the kind of face you're hardwired to trust. To adore. Or maybe, it's just him, in general, that you're inclined to feel this way about. "Okay?"

His large hard hands are still holding your cheeks, as yours wrap around his wrists. With a shake of your head, you shrug. Pout, too.

An apology is appreciated, but it's just words. It's his actions that have been upsetting you. Not his words (or lack thereof).

"We're gonna leave this bathroom and you're gonna pretend like I don't exist again," you tell him.

The frown on his face deepens. "That's not true. And that's not what I was trying to do in the first place, either. I just thought—"

"What? That it was a good idea to kiss me on my doorstep and promise you'd pick me up from work, only to never show? To ignore my texts? To—"

"No," he quietly admits, dropping his head between his shoulders. "I made the wrong calls—but I can make it up to you. I want to make it up to you." He rests his forehead against yours. Quietly begs, "Please."

Slowly, Jungkook nudges his nose up against yours. Waits for permission.

Beyond the door, loud music thuds through the room. It obscures the conversation you've been having, keeping you just as secret as you always have been.

It's not like you told any of your friends, either, and when it came to telling Taehyung, you weren't exactly forthcoming. Perhaps you would have been the one to pretend like he didn't exist, had he not done it first.

"I want you," he husks against your lips.

"You wanna fuck me," you correct him, lips tantalisingly brushing his with every word.

"True," he admits. "But I also wanna send you dumb memes again, and go for drives after work, and wake up in your bed. I wanna go for breakfast, and I still need to cook you my world-famous makguksu. I want to have not been a dick for the past two weeks, but I can't change that. I just wanna be what I once was to you again."

"And what was that?" You encourage.

There was never any label. Realistically, there's no right answer.

Or at least there isn't, until Jungkook just simply says, "Yours."

And what else can you do when confronted by such a pathetic, yearnful admittance from him, except to give into how you're feeling, too?

Frantic in the way your hands are on his body—his arms, his waist, around his throat—there's a neediness to you. One he's missed. One he reciprocates, as his large palms stroke up your spread thighs, then get your legs wrapped around his hips.

The movements of your bodies are so well nurtured by now that you know what comes next; how the bulge in his trousers will press against your covered pussy, and how you'll whine at the contact no matter how minimal.

"Fuck," you whine as his hands slip under the skirt of your dress. It's an old routine at this point. He knows exactly where to go, what to do. His fingers press against the wet fabric of your underwear, just gently enough to make you moan a little harder into his mouth.

"Oh?" He smirks when he realises just how needy you are, his fingers stroking against your slick panties. "Missed me, too?"

"You're an asshole," you tell him with a smile. As his fingers get firmer, you can't help but whine. "You know I have."

He pulls back to look down at your body. Pushes the fabric of your dress out of the way. Curses when he realises the underwear you're wearing. Is his favourite pair. Red and lacy, there's a suspender belt to match it. While you're not wearing it right now, he's got pictures of you in it that belong in a fuckin' museum.

"Did you wanna fuck me tonight, huh?" He mumbles into your lips.

"Not everything is about you," you say with a smile, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Except it is. They're your favourite pair too, simply for how insanely he reacted to seeing you in them. Sure you're not in the full set up, but it was enough to have you feeling ever so confident as you left the house with Taehyung.

As his lips press against yours, his finger hooks beneath your underwear. Tugs them to the side. Gets you exposed for him.

"No?" He husks, as his fingers begin to sink between your soaked folds. "So this isn't about me, huh?"

You shake your head. Lie. "Never been less turned on."

He plays into your little theatrics. Has always enjoyed them.

"So you don't want me to do this?" He asks as his middle finger sinks into your entrance.

"Can't even feel it," you pretend, as if his thick knuckles aren't stroking against you in just the right way.

"No?" He grits. Sinks a second finger inside you. Gets you whining again, nails gripping onto his arms. His fingers slowly pump into you, easing you into the way it feels for him to be inside you.

There's something electric about Jungkook. Sends shivers through your spine. Always knew exactly how to manipulate your pussy into doing whatever he wanted, and now is no different. As you clench around him, he's overcome with satisfaction.

"This is just my fingers," he reminds you. "I don't think you can handle my cock."

Scoffing, you're desperately trying to pretend you aren't melting for him. "Please, I can handle it just fine."

"Sure you can, baby," he teases with so much arrogance you kinda wanna fight him again—but it's also why you like him. He challenges you. Gets your brain in overdrive.

And when he crouches in front of the counter, eyes aligned with your exposed cunt, you think you might actually lose it entirely.

His hands are on your thighs, spreading you further, getting a good look at the mess between your legs. When he sighs, the shallow breath that escapes his lips feels like absolute sin against your wetness.

"Oh, you really haven't been fucked since me, have you?" He teases again. "Look at how fucking keen you are. Been missing my cock, huh?"

"My vibrator's been doing the job just fine," you assure him, but it has him pulling back to cock a brow in your direction. He knows many things about you that other people don't, but he was not aware you owned any sex toys. Finds that his cock only throbs even harder in his pants at this revelation.

"Maybe so," he husks, leaning closer just so he drags his flat tongue up your folds. Has to stop himself from moaning, 'cause the taste of you is somehow even better than his memories. "But it's not better than me."

With a point to prove, and a desperation to reclaim you as his own, Jungkook doesn't entertain chitchat any longer. He dives back in, tongue lapping against your lips as his fingers push back inside you. The way he curls them just right as his tongue flicks against your clit is enough to make anyone lose their head.

Hands tangling in his hair, you find your body responding to him in the way it always does; pathetically, needily, hungrily. There's no dignity to be found.

His tongue works against you like a well trained craft, until his lips latch around your swollen bud and begin to lightly suck on it. When he hums in satisfaction—which he does often—the suction only grows stronger.

Gets you whimpering, "Like that. Fuck. Like that."

The build is just as undignified as you are. Your grip on his hair gets tighter, and the shake of your legs grows stronger. Dragging his tongue up and down your folds, he settles back on your clit. Flicks his pointed tongue against you until he knows you can't take it any longer and begins to suck again. Curves his fingers just right. Strokes you so gently that orgasm pours out of you like liquid gold. Guilds him into the most gorgeous aureate glow.

He doesn't ease. Keeps his lips wrapped around your clit. Makes sure you're spent.

When he finally releases you, he's breathing just as heavily as you are. Gets to his feet, fingers still plugged in your tight pussy. Is pleased to find you're just as insatiable as he is, pulling him in for the messiest of kisses as soon as you can. There's no care given for the fact he's covered in your arousal. You just want that tongue of his in your mouth—and when it is, you find yourself moaning from the withdrawal of his fingers.

Your hands reach to the waistband of his jeans to unhook his button. Get his zipper down. Your hands down the front of his trousers, when his thick cock is restricted by his tight boxer briefs. By the tip of his cock, a small wet patch resides; his desperation for you obvious. Gently rubbing your thumb across the pre-cum, all you can think about is his slit, and how you wanna kitten lick across it.

But it's been two weeks of near-constant pining, and all Jungkook wants is to bury himself inside you.

"Let me fuck you," he begs. "Please, baby."

If the girl who had first seen Jungkook in a shared lecture hall two years ago would have known she'd end up in a shitty bathroom with him begging for her, she'd have laughed. Wouldn't have believed it for a second.

Fresh-faced and so out of your comfort zone, the first few days at university were full of potential. It was before you had wised up to your place in the pecking order; when Jungkook was just a boy in your orientation class.

Skin kissed by European sun, there had been a radiance to him that seemed to captivate just about everyone. You weren't the only girl who had been sneaking glances his way.

You'd thought about him a lot in those first few weeks. Came to learn of his family ties around the same time you befriended Taehyung. Stopped seeing him around campus so much, and rarely ever thought of him.

But on those rare occasions you crossed paths, your gaze would always linger.

As he frees himself of his boxers, trousers suspended midway down his thighs, he gently rubs the tip of his cock between your folds and husks, "Always thought you were so pretty, y'know?"

Looking up at you for just a second, he smirks. Looks back down. Continues to rub himself against you, prepping himself with your slickness.

"Freshers week," he continues. "You never came to any of the parties."

The tip of his cock kisses your entrance, but doesn't penetrate. You stay in limbo just shy of what you both want.

"Had a stupid fuckin' crush on you," he admits. Has never acknowledged it before, but has always known. Kept it hidden. Safe. Secret.

"No, you didn't," you smile. He didn't even give you a second glance. Was always you seeking him out in lecture halls.

"I did," he says with absolute certainty. "You wore that little black sundress on our first day. Had ruffles on the shoulders."

It hangs in your wardrobe, a little out of style but still sweet in the right setting. You know the exact one he's talking about, because he's right. You did wear it on that very first day.

His cock nudges a little deeper. Enough to make you gasp, but not moan. Not yet. Gripping his arms, brows furrowed, you nod. He sinks himself just a little bit further. The feeling is overwhelming; fire on ice.

"Would have fucked you in that lecture hall, if you'd have let me," he smirks.

"You didn't even know my name," you counter, but he cuts your questioning off as he edges a little deeper, still. His hand dips to gently rub languid circles on your clit. He's not pushing himself any further, not yet. Wants to ease into how this feels.

"I did," he admits. "Listened extra hard during the roll call."

"So this has all been some big elaborate scheme to get into my pants, huh?"

"Is it working?" he jokes, leaning over to yank the cabinet above the sink open. A few random bottles and packets clatter into the sink, but he doesn't care.

He's looking on the top shelf, rifling through old boxes, sending more miscellaneous objects to their untimely demise. Spotting what he's after, he's assertive as he knocks the cabinet shut. Passes you the box.

"S'all there is. They alright?"

"Sure," you say, pulling one of the foil packets from the box. You check the date stamped on the front—only to see it's a year out of date. Some protection would be better than none, regardless of the date, but fuck it. You're on the pill. "You haven't fucked anyone else? In the last couple weeks?"

"What?" His brows contort in confusion. "No."

His expression softens, but is still laced with confusion when you toss the box of condoms down into the sink.

"I don't care. I don't want them—"

You're cut off by the way Jungkook clasps your jaw, keeping your eyes locked on his. There's a seriousness to him now; the same demeanour he holds himself with when he was taking photographs. He's intentional. Assertive.

"Promise me," he says with stern certainty. "You want this?"

When he's got you like this—legs spread, body his to claim, your soul to take—it's impossible to do anything but comply. See, things with Jungkook are reciprocal. Your feelings, your tortured misunderstanding of how a relationship could ever work, and his seriousness, now, too.

"I promise," you swear.

As a chaste kiss is pressed to your lips, his hands stroke down your spread thighs, pushing you a little further open for him.

"Can't unfuck me," he softly reminds you. Is taking his time not for the anticipation, but because he's scared. "If you fuck me raw—"

"Then I fuck you raw," you simply repeat, knowing that it's up to you to ease his woes. If anyone should be scared, it's you—yet there's a safety that comes with being with Jungkook. Smirk, then say, "Trust me. I know I can't unfuck you. I've been trying to forget—"

"Ouch," he laughs, nudging his nose up against yours.

"—but you're just..." you tailed off, not wanting to compliment him too highly. He's still in the dog house. "Memorable."

With a sardonic smile that he knows only means trouble, you reach down to grip his incredibly pert ass cheeks. Squeezing, just because you can, you encourage him to push even deeper into you—and he's the one who whines, now.

"God, you're so fuckin' tight," he praises with such pained desperation it almost sounds like he'll cry. He won't. It's just that he can't quite believe that he's raw inside you right now, and that you feel just as good as he always imagined. Better, even.

"Yeah?" You question, as you pull his hips closer, gasping as he finally sinks his full length into you once more. His fingers were thick, but they've got nothing on his cock. Like he's taken all the air from your lungs, your voice is all light and airy. Makes Jungkook even more insane.

"Yeah," he mumbles as he nods into a kiss that is just as feverant as his need to pulse his hips. He doesn't dare do it yet. Is waiting for you. "Feels so fuckin' good."

"So just fuck me," you hungrily moan into his lips.

You're challenging him deliberately, and it works a fucking treat when he pulls back with a grin. He doesn't withdraw himself, but he does pulse his hips ever so slightly. Keeps you plugged. Is just nudging even deeper into you as he keeps a hold on your thighs, keeping them spread nice and wide.

"Say please," he grunts as his pulsing becomes a singular deep thrust.

Your argumentative streak wants to fight.

You'll berate yourself later for the way you whimper, "Please."

His thick cock withdraws just a little to push back into you. He groans. Curses. Builds momentum. Speed.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours as he pounds himself into you is impossible to ignore. Your moans build. Double. Treble. He's grunting too, and then his lips are on your neck. It's a mess, quite frankly.

In the sordid shadows of this bathroom, your bodies become acquainted with an intimacy not yet bridged before. You can pretend to ignore each other in the hallways of your shared lecture buildings, but you'll never be able to ignore the desperation you have for one another. Jungkook was right. You can't unfuck him. And now he's fucking you raw, it only make it even more potent.

Harshly pulling himself out of you, Jungkook almost fuckin' cums on the spot when he realises how soaked he is from your arousal. It's not like it's a new thing, but skin on skin, it's so much more intense. Gasping from the sudden loss of pressure, you're a little unsteady. Lurch forward as if your body could stop him from withdrawing.

Holding the base of his thick shaft, Jungkook spanks against your pussy with his cock. Rubs your slick wetness around with his tip. Hooks his elbows under your thighs. Pulls you closer. Instructs, "Arms around my neck."

Wrapping an arm around your back, the other one tucks under your ass as he lifts you.

He turns. Presses your back to the wall, and lines himself up.

"Legs around me," he tells you, and as soon as you do, his cock pushes up into you again. He keeps you pinned against the wall as he begins to fuck himself into you, his lips pressing wet kisses to the curve of your neck.

The sight in the mirror behind him is lethal; his broad back covered by his shirt, but it doesn't matter. You know what he looks like. Know his muscles, and the valley of his spine, like the back of your own damn hand.

You wanna see it though. Give it a tug. Send him the right message. Get him tearing his shirt off and dropping it to the floor for you. Victory is so damn sweet.

"Kook," you whine as he really begins to get deep. "You're gonna make me cum."

"All over my cock, huh?" He grunts. "Gonna cum on cock, are you?"

His taunting only makes you whimper even more. "I'm so close."

And because he just likes to get you all whiney and needy, Jungkook stops. Puts you down. Gets you facing the mirror as you protest his unfair stealing of an orgasm.

But then he's lining himself up again, getting ready to take you from behind. Spanks your ass ever so quickly.

Sinking into you again, Jungkook curses. "Tighter like this."

"Good?" You pathetically check, and Jungkook can't help but think it's sweet.

"Yeah, babe," he promises, and pretends as if it's completely usual for him to speak to you so tenderly. "Feels so fuckin' good. Missed you so much, gorgeous. You and this tight cunt."

"Romance," you joke through your needy whines. He smirks at this, and delivers a curt little spank to your ass.

"I can be romantic," he assures you, as if you aren't being soundtracked by the sound of your skin slapping together, his thick cock fucking itself into your soaked hole.

His eyes rise from the steady gaze he'd had on your ass to your eyes.

Slowing himself, Jungkook holds his cock inside you without thrusting. Says, "I made that photo you took of us in your room my fuckin' phone wallpaper. I listen to that asmr guy you like before bed, every single fuckin' night. I keep one of your ribbons tied around my gearstick. That romantic enough for you?"

There's an incredibly bashful smile on your pretty face, which contradicts the way in which your pussy is tightening around him in the most lewd of ways. You're giggling when you say, "Shut up and fuck me."

But then he's giggling too, just how you like him to be. Says, "I missed your body, but I missed you more. Stupid."

"You're stupid."

"You're stupider."

"Kook," you laugh, as he's completely forgotten the task at hand. The way that he looks at you, you'd be forgiven for thinking he has. Truthfully, the connection he has with you is so much more than what sex has ever been for him before.

His hips lightly pulse, as he says, "Sorry. Where were we?"

"Think you were gonna make me cum."

"Ah, yeah. That. My bad."

His gentle thrusts begin to build pace once more. The grin on his face drops a little as he begins to concentrate on you. Watching him in the mirror, you're perplexed to be reminded of just how ethereal Jungkook looks when he fucks.

The deep ridge between his brows intensifies, as his mouth hands slack. His cheeks hollow a little, and his eyes remain entirely focused. Dark. Deep. Brooding.

As his hand dips around to gently stroke against your clit, Jungkook is just as taken away by the way you look. He isn't sure what it is that gets his heart so heavy in his chest, but he knows that he wants you to cum. Doesn't give a fuck about himself.

The walls of your cunt begin to tighten around his length as your moans deepen. You whine his name and he encourages a response, but neither of you can really talk. A numbness is washing over you, your balance unsteady.

"I'm gonna..." you begin, but find it impossible to finish.

"I know, baby," he nods all out of breath and desperately fucked out. "Give me what I want. Cum for me."

You trust and keep your eyes on him, but the nudging on his cock against your g-spot and the slow rubbing of your clit is just enough to tip you over.

"Kook," you whimper as your walls begin to tighten around him, but it's fruitless. There's a shake to your legs, and he's the only thing keeping you supported.

"Oh, fuck," he curses from the strength of your pussy around him. He's shaking just as much as you are. "Cream on this cock, baby. Oh, fuck. Yeah.Just like that. You're gonna make me cum, too. Gonna make me cum so fuckin' hard. All in your pussy. You want that, huh?"

It's as you're desperately whining, cumming all around his thick shaft that Jungkook feels his body lose control. There's a tightness to his balls, and a shudder to his sternum, that he hasn't felt since the last time he was in your bedroom. Last time he was in you, more specifically.

"Kook," you whimper his name, and that's when Jungkook really can't hold back.

"Yeah, babe," he rasps, as his hard thrusts become pathetic stutters. "I'm cumming."

The announcement isn't needed, for you swear you can almost feel it as his thick cum begins to fill you. The lack of a condom makes it all the more primal, the way his body shudders indicative of just how much cum he's filling you up with.

His body collapses on yours a little, his clammy torso pressed to your back. The dress you're wearing is barely on properly, and the feeling of his skin against yours is catastrophic. As intimate as sex is, it's this right now, the beat of his heart thrumming against your spine that is the real disaster. How you can ever look him in the eye again is beyond you.

But then his lips are pressing chaste kisses to the curve of your neck, and his hands are squeezing at your hips. He doesn't pull out. Keeps himself warm inside you. Says, "How the fuck am I ever supposed to give you up, huh?"

That's the thing.

He isn't supposed to, and you damn well know it.

Reaching back for some tissue to help you out, Jungkook slowly withdraws. Holds his hand beneath your pussy, then replaces it with tissue. Turns you around and lets you take over.

"Here's a radical idea," you offer, not looking at him as you quickly make sure you're decent. Stay standing with your legs crossed, just in case. "Don't."

Pulling his shirt back over his head, Jungkook presses his back to the wall. There's a distance between you, yes, but you don't really feel it, 'cause it's purely physical.

And it's not like it lasts for very long either, 'cause Jungkook decides he needs to kiss you all over again.

"Alright," he whispers against your lips. "Say we don't. Say I wanna be yours. What the fuck do we do now?"

You shrug. The answers aren't yours to decide. It's up to you both.

"Well, firstly I'm gonna text Tae," you hum. "Tell him you're still an asshole and that I need to be let out immediately."

It's been half an hour.

He came to check on things about ten minutes ago.

The music might be loud, but not loud enough to drown out the way you guys fuck.

Summer had been quiet. In his car, in your empty house, you've never had to keep it down before. Didn't even realise quite how loud you were being.

Which is why Jimin is the one who unlocks the outside bolt with a smirk a few minutes later, Taehyung watching on with a little disgusted grimace a metre or so back.

"Gross," he whisper shouts at you, but then he's smiling, too. Notices how Jungkook touches you—the hand he has on the small of your back, and the way he clasps your hand as you begin to walk ahead of him—and finds it impossible to be mad.

"C'mon," Jimin calls behind himself, leading you up and out of the basement. "We're going to the diner."

"We?" You question, incredibly confused.

"We." He simply says. Doesn't leave it up for debate. Gathers up the rest of the Untouchables (though Claudia is noticeably absent), and tells them the same thing he told you. Drags Taehyung along as well.

Jungkook was scared of integrating you into his life, but there's no other way to do it. Has to rip the band aid off.

As you walk into Montgomery's, hand in hand with the boy who had spent his summer wasting away with you in here, both of you realise that maybe it isn't such a huge deal.

Or at least, you do until Maria clocks you. Eyes darting from you, to Jungkook, and then to your gently clasped hands, she's in a state of absolute shock. Almost drops her tray.

"Sorry, what the fuck?!"

#byholly #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bangtan fic #jungkook fluff #college!jungkook #non idol au #bts fanfic #bangtan ff #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader #college au

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euphoricfilter · 9 months

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come sit on my lap:

pairing: jungkook x afab! reader

genre: porn without plot || smut || established relationship || non-idol au (?)

tags/ warnings: pwp, mentioned masturbation, thigh riding, dick riding, praise kink, unprotected sex (don’t be stupid, this is fiction), creampie, mentioned cum stuffing because it didn’t make the cut. afab! reader (no gendered nicknames are used, terms like pussy is used though)

notes: listened to we are bulletproof pt.1 while writing this so do with that information what you will. yoongi’s part has me creaming myself it’s so delicious

notes 2: slight changes have been made from the original plan, otherwise this would have probably been 10k words of straight smut

my full masterlist || archived masterlist

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

“you’re home early”

jungkook’s gaze flickers to where you’re stood in the doorway of the living room, your eyebrows furrowing. it wasn’t displeasure painted across your face, just curious confusion.

“i missed you” he instead replies, the corners of his lips quirking upwards.

you slip further into the room, used to jungkook’s eyes on you. the rawest form of silent appreciation for the living art that stood before him; perfect in such a human way. jungkook never thought he’d find the right words to describe you. not when you looked so pretty, and perfect, and every other lame excuse of a word that was never really enough to encapsulate your entire existence.

his eyes glaze over the flush of your cheeks, sure to have just gotten out the bath. you liked to treat yourself on your days off, slipping into the hazy water, scented with the fancy bubble bath jungkook liked to treat you to.

you meet his gaze, head tilting in a silent question of what he was doing.

“come sit on my lap” he hums, “been thinking about you all day”

it’s neither a sigh nor a laugh that spills from your lips, maybe amusement. maybe love. maybe an unexplainable emotion that you reserved especially for jungkook, and jungkook only.

“yeah?”

and he nods, taking your hand into his own once you’re close enough. he tugs you down, helping you straddle one of his thighs; exactly where he’d wanted you.

he’d been thinking about this all day. how slick your cunt would get, always so easy to rile up. how he wanted to suck meanly on your poor little clit until you cried, and you begged for him to take the barest hint of mercy on you.

the mere thought of you sat in his lap, desperate for him to bring you that mind-numbing pleasure you loved to much— had his cock hardening in his pants.

if he had any lick of shame, then he might have felt guilt for getting himself off in the bathroom during his lunch break. his cock spit-soaked sticky, fist tugging at his length, a pitiful imitation of what your pussy would feel like squeezing his length until he came into his fist.

“so pretty” his hands slip down to your waist, lithe fingers barely grazing underneath your shirt, his chest deflating at the touch of your warm skin.

his thigh flexes, and you have to bite your lip to stop the moan that threatened to slip out— a flit of pleasure crawling up your body.

and as subtle as you’d like to be, jungkook can’t help the slow smile that pulls at his cheeks. not when he can feel your pussy clenching through your thin sleep shorts.

he wonders how long it’ll take for them to soak through. or how long it’ll take you to beg he run his fingers over your pussy, pressing over your clit. sinking past your walls and pressing meanly over your sweet spot until you’re shaking and begging ever so sweetly.

your hips roll forwards ever so slightly, desperation seeping from every morsel of your body. desperate for the faintest of friction to solve the issue you found yourself facing.

“don’t be shy, baby” jungkook hums, fingers digging into the meat of your hips, “use me”

“don’t say things like that” you whine, hands coming to cover your face, hot embarrassment searing your cheeks the faintest pink.

jungkook’s head tips backwards, low laugh rumbling from his chest. he flexes his thigh, cock throbbing at the moan that gets caught in the back of your throat.

“hands away from your face, come on. you know i love how pretty you look when you feel good” he takes hold of your wrists, tugging your hands to his chest.

your tongue wets your bottom lip as you find your rhythm, hips rocking forward in desperate little circles.

one of your hands slips from jungkook’s hold, thighs straining as you push yourself up. you slide the crotch of your shorts to the side, bare pussy clenching when it come in contact with jungkook’s pants.

“no panties?”

you smile, shaking your head.

you fumble with jungkook’s belt as you rut your hips forward, delicious pleasure spreading up your body with each drag of your clit against his thigh.

“want your cock” you press a kiss to his jaw, warm breath tickling his skin.

“yeah?” his voice comes out breathless.

“mhmm”

jungkook helps you, undoing his button as you push yourself to kneel over this thigh. you moan when his bare skin knocks against your clit, lifting his hips to pull his underwear down, fabric pooling at his ankles as you slip your shorts off.

your fingers wrap around his shaft, spit dribbling from your tongue onto the tip of his cock.

you jolt forwards when curious fingers part your labia, teasing over you hole.

“fuck” you whine when a finger slips into you, curling as a thumb rubs over your clit.

you squeeze his cock, thumbing the underside of the head, smearing the pearly little beads of pre cum down his shaft.

“spit on it, baby” jungkook looks at you through hooded eyes, tongue toying with his lip ring as you bounce ever so slightly on the second finger jungkook slips into your pussy.

you spit into your palm, mind too muddled to cringe at the stickiness that clings to your skin as you curl your fingers back around his cock, wrist flicking how you know he likes it.

“so good for me” he groans, hips bucking up into your hand, “come here”

his fingers slip from your cunt, helping you fully straddle his lap. his cock slides against your thigh, trail of pre cum painting your skin sticky. weird, primal satisfaction buzzing through jungkook’s veins as he marks you up with his leaking arousal.

you take hold of jungkook’s face, thumbs brushing over his cheeks.

“gimme a kiss” you whisper against his lips, “please”

“so polite” he murmurs, tilting his face, lips pillowing yours.

your mouth parts, breathy sigh licked up by jungkook as he presses his tongue past your lips.

blindly you take ahold of his cock, tugging at it once before you line him up with your entrance.

your hips rock forwards, folds parting around his cock. fizzling pleasure vibrating within you with each nudge of his cockhead against your clit.

“don’t tease” his voice comes out low, tongue prodding at your bottom lip. so shiny, a mixture of both your spit mingled and threatening to drip down your chin.

“sorry” you lift your hips up, tip of his cock pressing against your entrance. your hands brace on his shoulders, thighs quivering with each thick inch of jungkook’s cock sliding further between your walls.

“oh fuck” you moan, head falling onto his shoulder as you bottom out.

jungkook’s fingers dig into the flesh of your ass, stomach tightening in pleasure as your walls clench around his cock.

“you okay?” jungkook asks, hips barely rutting up into you.

“yeah, just feels nice” you trail a finger between your bodies, fingers thrumming ever so slightly over your clit.

arousal soaks jungkook’s cock, dribble of slick wetting his balls.

“might get tired though” you tell him as you sit up a little bit, hips rocking forward.

“i’ll help you” he smiles, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck.

you hum at that. feeling a twinge of a burn in your thighs as you push yourself up, head of his cock still sheathed within you before you drop back down his full length.

you think the air is punched from your lungs, hand that had been playing with your clit balancing yourself on his knee.

“shit, baby” jungkook groans, pulling you up his cock from your ass, “loosen up a bit”

you shake your head, mouth falling open, a moan cutting you off when his cock knocks against your sweet spot. desperation and adrenaline a fiery combination that has you pushing through the pain in your thighs, pussy swallowing his cock over and over until you’re leaking slick, and jungkook can’t help the moan that spills from his lips.

“jungkook” you cry, “s’ so good”

you feel yourself hurdling closer to an orgasm, each rugged stroke of his cock, and each brutal brush against your sweet spot sending you into overdrive.

“gonna cum?” he asks, fingers digging into your hips as he thrusts up into you. merciless and be chases his own high, rutting up into your with a new found vigour that has you hiccuping— nails digging into the fabric of his shirt.

you wilt into his chest, fingers curling into his shirt as you reach your peak; quickly tumbling down the other side as jungkook’s balls slap wetly against your ass, pleasure fueled moans a harmony with your own.

you feel jungkook’s cock twitch as you ride out your high, cunt creamy leaking down his balls as he cums; coating your walls sticky with his seed.

he ruts up into you once more, hands pulling you down as far as you can on his cock as he empties himself out inside of you. thick pulses of cum spilling into you.

“fuck” his head knocks against the back of the couch, “you’re milking me” he laughs, balls tightening when your walls clench around his softening length.

your chest stutters for a breath, hips twitching at the aftermath of your orgasm.

“you’re insatiable” jungkook licks his bottom lip when you circle your hips. “gonna have to give me a minute to recover”

jungkook lays you back, fumbling around for the small pillows propped up against the arm of the couch. he pulls the bottom half of your body up by your ankles, slipping two pillows under your hips.

“no clenching. and no spilling; i plan to stuff you full tonight” he raises an eyebrow, a silent challenge to disobey.

he runs his fingers through your slit, barely dipping between your walls to push his seed back inside of you.

“think you can do that?”

you nod, “don’t make me cum, otherwise it’s gonna make a mess of the pillows”

“you’ll be making more than a mess of the pillows” his nose scrunches. and you’re unsure if it’s bubbly love that fills your body, possibly a new wave of arousal.

maybe both.

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #jungkook #bts #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook fic #jungkook one shot #bts jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts non idol au #bts fic

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colormepurplex2 · 2 months

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Now I'm Yours | JJK

🤍Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!f.Reader 🤍A/B/O, Established Relationship/Mates | angst, smut, fluff 🤍WC: 14,064 🤍Rating: MA 🤍Summary: Jungkook is terrible at feelings. He’s possessive, reckless, and most definitely an Alphahole; you were once his sworn enemy for a reason. But, after he claimed you as his mate during your designation celebration, how do you even begin to navigate the dark waters of such a precarious relationship? Especially when there is darkness creeping over the horizon, threatening to blanket your world in permanent shadow. ⚠️ Vulgar language, semi-hate sex, fingering, knotting, creampie, discussion of violent acts, drinking, fighting/physical altercation, alpha challenge, knife violence/attack, blood, injury, bond sex, dick licking/oral, slick eating, biting/marking, blood/wound licking, surprise pregnancy Each chapter will have specific warnings listed.

Read Make You Mine, the first installment of the series, here!

Chapter 1. Distance Makes The Heart Grow Fonder

Chapter 2. Feel It In Your Soul

This story is complete.

A/N: This story is part of the "New Year, New Me Love" @bangtanwritershq gift exchange, written for the wonderful @hisunshiine! And as always, a special thank you to @moonleeai and @downbad4yoongi for being A+ betas!

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2024-02 ColorMePurplex2

#bts #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #bts angst #bts smut #bts non idol au #bts abo #jungkook abo #alpha jungkook #omega reader #abo smut #bts knotting #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts enemies to lovers #alpha jungkook x omega reader #jungkook smut #bangtanwhq #btscreaturescoven

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seulcaty · 23 days

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𐚁 ꫬ ۪ namjoon ( bts ) lockscreen

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lazystar · 7 months

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The Long Way Home

Choi San x Fem!Reader

WC: ~ 6.5K

Warnings/Content Notes: 18+ !!! MDNI!!! SMUT, BDSM Dynamics, Dom!San, Sub!Reader, BFFS -> FWB -> Lovers. ANGST! Cursing, Alcohol Consumption, Jungkook at the scene of the crime, Jokes about divorce. Smut warnings after the cut.

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A/N if you enjoy reading this please consider reblogging and leaving a comment ty it genuinely means a lot to me to see y’all’s reactions to my work :)

SMUT Warnings: BDSM Dynamic, Dacryphilia, Impact Play, Bondage, Choking, PIV Sex (no mention of protection remember to wrap it up y’all), Fingering (F Rec), Degradation.

The Long Way Home

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Tequila was the worst invention known to man. Your pounding head and naked body declared this thought as you gazed over to the man in the bed beside you. Some jock you couldn’t even recall the name of. He was some fucking guy, maybe his name was something basic like Matthew? If he asked you his name you would’ve blanked and probably said some random name like John. His snores made your head sting with a headache as you tried to recall how you ended up nude and having to do yet another walk of shame.

The memory hit you as you shrugged on one of your one night stand’s hoodies and your jeans. The walk of shame uniform, some random guy’s clothes paired with your own you sighed to yourself.

The bright lights, booming bass, jungle juice, and losing your best friend in the crowd as you both flirted with the many attractive people at the party. It was just a local affair. Crawling with the washed up twenty somethings that all resided in rather small city you called home. All of them regularly relived the glory days of raucous partying and drinking away the stressors of everyday life, you and your best friend and roommate wee no exception to this.

It was cheaper than a bar and honestly more fun. Mr. Anonymous was one of the hosts and putting on his best Flynn Rider-esque smolder as you batted your false lashes and giggled like a fool. You were about to “oh my god you’re so funny” your way into some good sex. Or so you thought, except you recalled on your walk to your apartment that the guy didn’t even last five minutes and you didn’t even cum. It wasn’t even hook up yelp review worthy.

You barged into you and your best friend San’s shared apartment with a loud huff slamming your keys onto the entryway table. Not even looking up from his phone San let out a laugh, “Who the fuck pissed in your cheerios bun?” Bun had been your long time nickname from San due to your shorter stature and constant habit of twitching your nose when annoyed.

“Well Mr. Mountain Flynn Rider guy didn’t even last ten minutes and I was left disappointed AGAIN!!!” You wailed as you flopped beside him onto your lumpy couch. “Like I get it, I take a while to finish but he couldn’t at least help me?! Where is the fucking decorum in hookups these days.” He lets out a loud laugh at your rant and then suddenly stopped, he looked over at you like he just discovered the secret to time travel. Eyes wide and brows raised, his mouth was agape with a smile.

“I just got the best idea! Why don’t we just start hooking up. We talk enough about our sex lives since we’re so close, we know what the other likes. Why not just fuck?” He says his grin now a smirk, he waggled his brows and nudged you with his elbow.

“Did you smoke something? Are you high? Are you unwell? That’s a fucking terrible idea! Like holy shit that’s an insanely bad idea! One of us could catch feelings, someone could get hurt, it would be a mess. Have you seen any movies where that works out?” You exclaim. Your hands were thrown in the air and you began to consider smacking San upside the head in hopes you could help him create some new braincells for some cognizant thoughts. He just shrugged your way and continued on with his master plan.

“Bun, honey. Think about how much easier and safer it would be. No walks of shame, we’d get tested first obviously, I wouldn’t fuck anyone else so we both stay safe, and come on. I know how you like it.” His voice grew almost husky as he looked deep into your eyes. The change in his energy made you squirm and you couldn’t help but think how hot he looked. You had eyes, you knew your best friend of over ten years was hot with his dark eyes and muscles that practically bulged out of his tight shirts.

“Fuck it. Show me what you got.” And with that his lips crashed onto yours, his hand laced into your hair tugging on the roots just hard enough to make you whine into the kiss.

“Oh Bunny I’m gonna ruin you.”

“I’d like to see you try Sannie.” He quickly knocked the smirk off your face with his hand wrapping around your neck, he squeezed a bit and gave you a glare.

“You shouldn’t have said that.” Your underwear was soaked as you gazed at him with wide eyes and a moan fell from your lips as he chuckled darkly. He quickly tugged the hoodie off of you and smirked down at you, noticing your lack of a bra. “Fuck your tits are so gorgeous, look at you. You look pathetic all needy for me.”

“ ‘M not pathetic.” You whined. His hand that was around your throat previously gripped your jaw squeezing your cheeks.

“Yes you are, I bet you’re all soaked and your little pussy is begging for me to fuck you. But sweetheart, you didn’t earn it did you? Back talking, sassing me, telling me that fucking me was a horrible idea. Such a dumb little bunny under me. I should just leave you right here all worked up.” You felt out of control as you shook your head no, ten minutes ago you would have never thought of yourself having any sexual relationship with San. But here you were silently pleading for him to fuck you stupid. He watched with glee as your eyes began to water and you began to beg for him to touch you, for him to play with you like a doll. He had you where he wanted you, needy, lust filled, and wanting only him.

“Sannie please! I want you! I need you! I’m gonna fucking lose it if you don’t do something.” Your voice was whiny and you sounded on the verge of tears as your roommate simply smirked at you.

“You have ten seconds to strip and get on my bed, You know how I’ll wanna see you waiting for me.” You bolted, shoving your jeans down and kicking them off, then your panties as you scurried to his room. You practically leapt onto his bed and got right into his favorite position; kneeling on his bed, hands on your knees, head held high, not moving a muscle.

San during your rendezvous rundowns had divulged his preference for BDSM encounters rather than vanilla ones. His stories had you internally squirming when you two discussed your sexual encounters. You hadn’t really had experience with kinky sex like San did. He’d visit BDSM clubs, done his online research, met up with some subs once or twice as he learned more about his dominant side. He told you about how he loved when some of his submissive partners would cry as he would play with them, using impact toys, vibrators, ball gags, collars. He was a rigger, he explained one time, loving using intricate knots and ties with rope to create, as he put it, “the perfect present for myself”. He loved seeing how his other partners would plead to touch him as he fucked them into delirium.

Now here you were, about to get fucked into that same delirious state. San strolled into the room and leaned against the doorway as you kept your pose. He loved seeing you following his unspoken orders. But he knew as a good dominant he had to make sure you were comfortable with him. “Y/N before I do anything I want to know your limits, what are you comfortable with? I know you like choking and hair pulling, some spanking, some spit play. But is there anything you don’t want me to do to you?” You blushed at his consideration, you knew he was going to do this but seeing his concerned eyes and soft smile your way had you feeling butterflies in your stomach.

“Ummm, no face slapping, just hands being tied or bound is okay, I wanna be able to see you, and um, just don’t go too crazy. Oh and don’t call me a bitch I’ll kick you.” You nodded, your last sentence elicited a chuckle from San as he shook his head walking over to you.

“So you’re okay if I for example say, hmmmm. Y/N you’re being such a good little whore for me. Getting right how I wanted you and answering my questions like an obedient little slut.” His brow quirked and he tilted his head. He didn’t show it but he was reeling watching the shy flush on your cheeks and how you tried to rub your thighs together to feel some friction.

“Yes Sir, that's okay with me.” You nodded, quietly appraising his reaction to the title. A growl erupted from him as he manhandled you onto your back and spread your legs wide.

“Oh Bunny, Sir’s gonna make you fucking scream.” With that promise he pulled you into a searing kiss as he began to push his fingers inside you and quickly locate the spot that made you cry out in pleasure. He watched as you threw your head back and moaned, his fingers grew faster as you began to squirm. He wasn’t even fingering you for that long, maybe a few minutes but he had you on the brink of your first orgasm. “Aww is Bunny gonna cum already? Uh uh, not yet baby, you gotta beg for it.” You cried out in frustration as he pulled his fingers out and slowly began to circle your sensitive clit.

“Please sir, please let me cum. I fucking need it. I’ll be so good, I’ll do anything. Please let me cum and make a mess for you.” Tears cascaded down your cheeks as you begged for him to let you cum. You felt like you were going to squirt all over the sheets as he toyed with you. He smirked and roughly shoved two of his fingers back in you and jackhammered them right at your g-spot. The slick sounds of how wet you were along with your moans and panting breaths were all San heard. He bent down and kissed at your neck has he slowed his fingers down for a moment and made a come hither motion with them, the attention on your g-spot had you falling into a state of euphoric delirium, you couldn’t even think a coherent thought as you moaned out his title over and over again.

“Fucking cum for me Bunny. I wanna see what a messy little slut you are for me.” He whispered into your ear, the kiss on your lips that followed sent you over the edge, his fingers quickened as he leaned back up to watch your orgasm splash against his palm and your body thrash about, he watches as your eyes rolled back into your head and your back arched as he continued the onslaught on your overly sensitive pussy. Your cries of relief and his name had him on cloud nine, this is what he had wished for. He had wanted you in his bed more than anything when he would hear your hookup stories. He wanted to make you cum over and over again, to hear you moan his name has he pounded into your wet cunt. Now here you were coming undone all over his sheets and whining as he overstimulated you.

“Sannie I cant take any more too sensitive.” You whined and he stopped immediately. He laid beside you and pulled you into his arms, rubbing yours and whispering praises into your sweat soaked hairline. Your head lulled onto his shoulder and you snuggled into his body heat feeling safe and relaxed as you synced your breathing with his.

“You were so good for me Bunny, you did so good. How do you feel? Do you need me to clean you up and get you some water?” You nodded and he went into the bathroom and grabbed a damp washcloth and gently cleaned up the mess between your legs. After, he grabbed you a glass of water and helped you drink as he kept on praising how well you took your first time with him. “So what do you say? Want to keep doing this?” You nodded aggressively and he let out a light laugh as he kissed your forehead. “Only time we’ll have rules is in the bedroom okay, no need for those dumb ass contracts or whatever shit they do in those girly movies you like. It’s still us being us except I eat you out and boss you around in bed.” You let out your own laugh and statement of agreement. He made it all so casual and comfortable. Any worries you had fell to the wayside as you found yourself under him once again, his hands in your hair and yours cupping his cheeks as giggles made their home in between each kiss.

You fell into an easy routine that was just you two being Mountain and Bun, except now you often are sleeping beside one another sticky from sweat and he’s made you cum several times. It felt right, like you two had been destined for something more than friends.

Soon enough the kisses and physical affection transferred from the walls of your apartment to out in public. Your friends noticed the possessive hand around your waist and glares San would give at any man who would look for a tad too long at you on nights out at the bars and clubs in the city. But when asked if something was going on between you two, San would lead the way with denying anything more than friendship. This lead to a routine of you both denying anything serious was going on, much to everyone’s disbelief as it was clear as day you two were more than friends.

It was an unspoken rule to deny a connection between you two when asked, but a spoken one to only sleep with one another. You two were just friends, friends who kissed, cuddled, and slept together. Friends with benefits, nothing beyond that. Right?

But, something beyond San tying you up and regularly making you cum up to ten times a scene was going on. Stolen kisses, cuddles under the glow of the tv, and nights ending in romantic passionate sex were growing more and more common. Mornings where you would find yourself wrapped around him as he cooked you breakfast, lazy days spent in his favorite hoodies, nights where you laid by his side and played with his fingers as you compared the size of his hands to yours. It was more than just lust.

You knew you were down bad, but you had no one to explain it to. There was no rule against being open about sleeping together but you both seemed to agree silently on keeping it just between you two. The pair of you seemed to just keep it under wraps to avoid your friend’s questions or comments. But avoiding it all was becoming too much, it was driving you insane. It was making you feel used and discarded even if he was treating you so well, you just wanted him to say something so you knew he wasn’t just using you.

Fall came, leaves crashed against the sidewalks and your feelings began to chill like the air outside. It was another night out for you, San, and your seven other friends, this time in a crowded club with booming bass, sultry air, and many other drunk people looking for a good time. You and San were dancing on one another with him subtly peppering kisses on your neck as your hips swayed against his. After a while you pulled away shouting you were grabbing another drink.

At the bar a tall, tattooed man saddled up beside you. His eyes danced along your figure admiring the short dress adorning your frame. His lip rings emphasized his sultry smirk as he offered to buy you a drink. “The name’s Jungkook. I’ll buy you a drink, but in exchange grant me once dance.” You were charmed by his attitude and agreed. Your hands soon found their way around his neck as his grip met your waist. The heavy beat of the R&B of the club and the lust filled air around you two pushed San from your mind as the tall man had stolen your attention.

“Gorgeous I don’t think your boyfriend is too happy you’re dancing on me like this.” The raven haired male said into your ear as you both swayed to the beat. His strong grip on your waist was anchoring you to the moment. The liquor swirled your brain as all of your inhibitions began to throw themselves aside. Your attention was brought back to San, you could feel his angry laser like stare on your back as you danced with Jungkook. Why was he mad? It’s not like he would openly say anything about you being off limits anyways.

“He’s not my boyfriend, just my roommate. We hook up but it’s nothing serious.” You reply back loud enough to be heard over the music.

“So he won’t keep staring at me like he wants to murder me if I kiss you?”

“He can be mad he doesn’t get a say in who I kiss.” You snark back and Jungkook pulls you into a kiss, his hands snaking down to grab your ass over your short skirt and your hands reaching into his flowing locks. Before things could get too heated you felt a hand grabbing your arm and pulling you away. “WHAT THE FUCK LET ME GO!” Your disagreement went unanswered as San dragged into a hallway away from prying eyes.

“Y/N what the actual fuck was that? Were you trying to make me jealous?! Well congratulations it fucking worked. You’re mine, nobody else’s. I thought you knew that.” His voice was filled with anger and his tone was almost like a snarl. You shivered and felt the familiar feeling of your head beginning to float at his authoritative behavior.

“Sannie, you never said we were anything more than friends with benefits. How was I supposed to know I wasn’t supposed to kiss other boys, I wouldn’t fuck them but I can’t kiss em?” Your tone was playful but also clearly annoyed at his power play when he wasn’t your boyfriend. He was the guy you lived with and fucked, not the guy telling you he loves you and wants to spend his life with you.

He had no power over you when it came to expanding your horizons while being single.

“No Y/N you’re mine.” San’s glare began to anger you. He can’t say shit like that then not say you two were a couple.

“No San. I’m not fucking yours, matter of fact I’m never going to be ‘yours’. You can have someone else in your bed, sharing a place with you, and being your plaything. I’m done with the games and the back and forth on what I am to you. I’m so done with you. If you have any once of respect for me you’ll do me a favor leave me the fuck alone.” You stormed away before he could even make a move to try and save the shreds of your relationship. You walked as fast as you could to find your friend group. With your head hung low and as quiet of a voice as you could muster in the loud club you told your friends, Hongjoong, Yunho, Minho, Seonghwa, Jongho, Yeosang, and Wooyong that you were not going to be able to go participate in your regular hang out nights anymore, your only explanation being you and San weren’t on good terms and you didn’t know if your friendship would be good again.

The guys didn’t see or hear the exchange but they saw the angry tears running down your cheeks that you had been trying to hide and knew that the situation was not good in the slightest. They watched you angrily wipe at your mascara stained cheeks and march off. They were worried for you. They saw San off in the hallway he had pulled you to, his head was pressed to the wall as sobs wracked his body. His fist was hammering the wall as he appeared to be cursing himself for what went down. The boys felt like children caught in the middle of their parents fighting and it had them all feeling a major sense of unease.

You spilled the beans a few days later to Yeosang, Wooyong, and Seonghwa when they came to check on you while you were staying on your friend Winter’s couch. She was helping you navigate moving out and moving on from the boy you had been hurt by. She knew the whole story and comforted you as you told the three boys about everything, well not all the sexual things after you got into a little bit about it and they looked ready to send you off to a convent. The boys were angry for you they understood that you felt played and that your feelings seemed to be disregarded, but they also understood that San was not the best when it came to emotional vulnerability or communication. They wanted you to open the door to him to try and repair things. But you were insistent on never speaking to San again due to how hurt you were. You couldn’t bear looking him in the eyes knowing you had been a toy to him. That he wanted to have all the aspects of dating you, but wouldn’t even admit he was sleeping with you. Was he embarrassed with you? Were you not enough? Your mind would spiral every night as you laid on Winter’s couch questioning your value to San, your friendship as a whole, your own sense of self. You picked yourself apart to the atom, finding more and more reasons to wonder what it was that made San begin the denial of your relationship when asked about you.

They helped you pack your things when San was at work and within the hours of his shift any trace of you was gone. Your new apartment was only a few blocks away with San none the wiser. When he came home to see every trace of the years you’d shared by his side gone, his heart was crushed like a hammer was hitting him square in the chest. The end of September was now San’s least favorite time of year, because it’ll forever mark when he lost to you due to his own stupidity.

Days without either of you speaking turned into weeks, then months. The cold gray winter had come in to chill your bones and steal your breath. It turned your cold heart to ice as you began to move on from the beautiful boy you had fallen for. It was as if the past few years never existed. Like the way you slept for months in his bed was an illusion. It was a fog, always a fog. Until those cold nights called for another body to join you in bed. Nobody else was good enough, it had to be him. The man who had you Pavloved into orgasming to the sound of his voice, the man who made your mind melt. San, Choi San was the only one for you.

San was no better off, cold nights yearning for your touch. Your voice haunting every time he had to rub one out. “Please Sir, please let Bunny cum! I-I’ve been so fucking good for you please!” one of his favorite memories. He could always remember every aspect of that night. He had been practicing some new Shibari tie methods and had you bound into the perfect present, intricate knots holding your breasts in place, your pussy exposed with your hands bound to your legs so you were immobile. You looked delectable with those pleading yet wild eyes, drool leaking from your mouth, and makeup running down your face. You looked practically angelic to him as he watched your eyes roll back into your head as he bullied his cock into you over and over, he recalled how with a whispered “such a good girl for me, yes you can cum.” the scream that flew from your lips as your eyes rolled back, the gush of your orgasm around him and how your pussy milked him dry. He remembered how you looked at him with such loving eyes as he took care of you and how you would let him lay on your bust as you kissed his forehead and assured him he wasn’t too rough with you. He remembered that while you slept he uttered “I love you” while he looked at you.

But he couldn’t get to make memories like that again, not until you’d let him speak to you, not until he could fucking find you that is. And most definitely, not if you have a new boyfriend or someone he can’t compete with for your heart.

While the two of you were pining for the other like a high school production of Romeo and Juliet the rest of the friends you and San shared were extremely annoyed by the way you two were acting like a divorced couple.

“I’m team Mom aka Y/N here but I don’t wanna deal with who has custody of us at Christmas being an issue. They need to kiss and make up” Yeosang declared while sitting with the others at lunch. They had planned a lunch to plan the intervention because as much as they didn’t want to admit it they would rather be annoyed by you two being romantic or possibly walk in on you two, than have to deal with the split custody issue. Thus the “Stop the Divorce” squad was put into action. They wanted you both happy and most importantly back together.

Soon enough their plan to get you two to hash shit out was put into action, Hongjoong the unofficial leader of the group sent San and you separate texts asking to meet up at his recording studio space to hang out. You arrived first, you had made yourself at home on the sofa and then about five minutes later San was walking into the room. “Oh fuck no, I’m not doing this.” You exclaim, grab your things, and make your way to the door to leave. It’s San who surprisingly makes the move to block your way out. Hongjoong and the others maneuvered to exit and lock the door as you and San stared down one another with laser like focus.

“Sit. The. Fuck. Down. Y/N.” He hisses through his teeth, using the tone of voice he reserved for those occasions you would have tested his patience when your dynamic was in place.

“You’re not the fucking boss of me anymore Choi San. Just fucking UGH!! Let me go!” You bark back.

“I’m not going to lose you now when I finally have you back in my life, I won’t make that same mistake again.” His voice sounded as if he was about to cry, it was broken. San’s voice carried his emotions after not seeing you for months,he sounded lost, hurt, terrified, and so, so sad.

“You won’t lose me Sannie, you never did. I went overboard leaving like I did, I was just so… so fucking scared. I was with you every day. I slept in your bed, woke up to you, brushed my teeth while you showered, held you when you cooked. It was becoming so real, so domestic, it felt too coupley when you wouldn’t even claim me as someone you had even been fucking! I couldn’t take it anymore, it was too painful.” Your voice broke as you crumpled to pieces before your former lover. His own eyes filled with unshed tears as he looked at you. Your hair hung in your eyes as you stared at your shoes. Your arms were wrapped around your body like a protective shield as you rocked back and forth avoiding him as your confession hung in the air like a thick fog.

“Oh bun. Shit, baby. I— fuck it. I love you Y/N I have loved you for years. I think it was sophomore year of college when I realized how I’d fallen for you. It was when you were there for me when Mina broke up with me, you didn’t even do anything but sit and listen as I cried. You told me something that day, do you remember?” You shook your head as you looked up at him with wide eyes at his confession. Your heart was thumping, head reeling at the words he’d just blurted out. “You held me and said ‘San, any chance to love you is a chance worth having. You love so greatly, so wonderfully, so wholeheartedly. Love from you in any capacity is love worth lifetimes of happiness that anyone would be blessed to have.’” You began to cry as you realized he was telling you the truth, he remembered verbatim the words you told him that day. He remembered the veiled confession you made.

“San, I love you too.” You whispered, almost incomprehensibly.

“Say it again, please”

“Choi San, I Y/N Y/L/N am undeniably in love with you.” You said louder, now smiling at him with tears cascading down your cheeks. His own tears falling from his eyes as your lips crashed onto his. The kiss tasted like salt from your mingling tears. He smelled like his cologne mixed with his own natural scent that was something so addictive. He felt like home. The warmth of his hands felt like forever.

You moved back in shortly after San confessed, loving him felt like walking on air; light, freeing, and gentle. The domestic routine was something you loved, a good morning kiss, another kiss as you both left for work, a welcome home kiss from him as he cooked dinner to reward you as you came back from a longer day at the office, so many kisses just because. He spoiled you in affection and words of his adoration for you, he made you feel so at home.

It was game night at your home with San, your friends all lounged on your couches as you curled into the worn leather loveseat nestled into the crook of San’s arm. Your head was resting on his chest as your sock covered toes poked at the arm of the small sofa, his laughter lightly shook you as a fond smile crept to your face as Seonghwa was forced into telling another embarrassing tale of his college dating woes. ��So she walks into my dorm, I’m thinking ‘hell yeah I’m about to lose my v-card and BAM! The lego collection scared her away like DAMN can’t a man get laid and like legos?” He laments and the snort that left you at his story has the whole group laughing. “Okay just for that miss piggy, your turn, truth or drink?”

“For the sake of my liver, truth.”

“What’s the wildest thing San and you have done while fucking?” The sip of your single glass of wine for the night nearly launches from your nose as the boldness of Seongwha’s question sets in.

“What defines wild to you?”

“Nah sister, just answer the question.”

“Well there was this one time he had me collared with a leash but also tied up in this crazy position, like my ankles and wrists bound together so I was practically immobile. He fucked me so hard I blacked out, we’re okay with like him still going even when I’m not all there in the head. We’ve talked boundaries about that stuff so don’t keep looking at him like he’s a psycho. And yeah, or would you rather hear about how he had to punish me for being such a brat, he went so hard on me that day I had to call off work for three days so the bruises on my ass could heal and I could sit down properly?” You smirked and looked up at San, his eyes were burning onto you as his own smirk settled onto his face. He bent his head down and uttered one small phrase that had you shifting in anticipation.

“Strike one bun, you know I don’t like the idea of them imagining you all exposed and slutty for me.” His voice practically sounded like a purring lion. The shiver that went down your spine was visible to anyone looking your way.

“Well damn. Don’t go having war flashbacks over there Mr. and Mrs. Pornhub.” Yunho prompted as he cleared his throat. You shrugged and the game kept going. The questions only seemed to grow bolder as time passed and soon enough you all grew progressively drunker.

“Y/N truth or drink but if you drink it’s 3 shots this time!” Wooyoung drunkenly declares.

“That’s so foul, okay lay it on me.”

“Who in this room would you tell San you’d be cool to have a threesome with?” San’s grip on your thigh grew harsh in a warning. You promptly took the shots and groans of disappointment rang out as your friends still asked you to answer.

“Fuck it, ummmm Joong I guess.” You say not thinking as the alcohol muffled your mind of any proper filter.

“Strike two.” San’s voice rings in your ear. Like baseball, one more and you’re out of luck. So, you turn on the brat mode.

“I mean come on we all have eyes, Joong is cute and I’m not saying I would do it but hey who knows.” You shrug and you feel San’s eyes burning into your skull as Hongjoong blushes wildly and murmurs a question filled “thank you?”.

The third strike warning never comes as San finds an excuse for the party to end and within the hour you find yourself bent over his lap. The loud thwack! of the shiny leather paddle reserved for only the harshest of your punishments against your ass rings out as he orders you to count. “One! Thank you sir.” THWACK! “T-two! Thank you sir.” and so on until you hit fifteen. Your ass is ringing with pain as he manhandles you silently onto your back with your head hanging over the edge of the bed. You didn’t even have a moment to process before your ankles are on his shoulders and his cock is being pounded into your sopping cunt, tears leaked from your eyes and were hitting your hairline as cries of pained pleasure were ripped from your throat.

“Shut the fuck up and take it like the greedy whore you are.” His warm palm encased your throat as he squeezed it, choked gasp filled moans fell from your lips as the familiar feeling of floating euphoria filled your mind. The blood rushing to your head combined with the sensation of his hand around your throat squeezing your airway made each thrust hit that much more intensely. Your mind was going blank and you dropped into the headspace that made you lose all sense of thought and control. Your mind was solely consumed by San, only San.

“Sir, gonna cum!” You cried as that knot in your stomach grew tighter and tighter. He shook his head and pulled out, he pulled his hand away and maneuvered so he stood at the side of the bed near your face.

“Only good girls get to cum, you know that. Or are you too stupid to remember Bunny?”

“‘m a dumb bunny and forgot sorry sir! Please let me cum!” The tears fell harder toward your hairline as you gazed at him with pleading eyes.

“Suck Sir off and I’ll maybe let you cum.” He asserted and he began to thrust his cock down your throat as soon as your mouth opened. His cock bullied the back of your throat, spit trailed from your lips to your cheeks and hair as you gagged and moaned around his throbbing hard length. You could barely take half of him, but you wanted to please him so badly you relaxed you gag reflex and watched his face screw up in pleasure as he watched his length create a bulge in your throat as you worked to deep throat the entirety of his pulsating cock. It felt like hours of him thrusting in and out of your mouth, your mind was numb and you were still yearning for orgasm. After a few choked “Good girl bunny.”’s you felt his cum shoot down your throat. He pulled out and let the last few ropes of cum shoot over your face moaning as you tried to swallow more of his load.

“Oh Bunny you did so well for me, let Sir make you cum all over for him okay? Want me to eat that pretty little pussy and make you squirt for Sir?” A dumb nod in response was all it took for him to begin lapping at your sopping hole, moans and growls rumbled against your aching clit as he suckled on it like he was having his last meal. His tongue was expertly thrusting in and out of your pussy and his nose brushed your clit as he moved his head to lick you from your asshole to your clit a few times. Your head was reeling as silent screams left your lips, your eyes rolled back into your head as he gently nibbled at your clit. You couldn’t even give San a warning as with one last thrust of his tongue the wire in your core snapped and you felt that jolt of pleasure spread from your head to your extremities. Your legs shook as your fingers dug into his scalp and you held his head to your pussy. Gush after gush of your orgasm flooded from you as he continued to lick and suck at your core. You couldn’t even declare it being too much before another white hot orgasm hit you. You continued to whine and squeal as you soaked the sheets. He pulled away and watched as the lady sprays of your orgasm fled your body. “That’a girl, you there for me baby?” You nodded tiredly as he maneuvered you so your head was resting on a pillow. He had prepared prior to starting the scene having some water, baby wipes, and some pain cream for your ass for aftercare. He whispered soft praises as he moved you once again to massage your aching ass cheeks with the cream and to clean the sticky mess between your thighs with the baby wipes. His gentle touch was so comforting as he made sure you were comfortable after the intense scene was done. Once he was done cleaning you up and making sure you were alright he began to help you sip some water and he whispered more praises to you as you came down to earth from your headspace. Your heart was so full of love and warmth as you took in his gentle hands rubbing your arms and his honeyed voice cooing how proud he was of you, how good you were, and how in love with you he was. He held you close, his chest pressed firmly against your back as you began to be lulled to sleep by his steady heartbeat and the encompassing warmth radiating from his body.

“Sannie?” You whispered hoarsely, looking over your shoulder at him with shining eyes full of happy tears. He smiled and moved to rub them away with his free hand, he peppered kisses on your forehead as he did so.

“Yes my love?”

“I’m so glad the guys made us talk, I can’t imagine not having you in my life. I love you so much.” His own eyes began to fill with tears as he moved so he could kiss you deeply. He didn’t need to respond, his kiss conveyed his feelings. His kiss was warm, filled with the years of adoration he held for you. His arms were safe, protecting you from ever being harmed by the world outside your bedroom. His heartbeat was the metronome by which the melody of your happiness kept time. San was home, he was your forever.

To San, your soft skin was his oasis in a desert. The warmth of your skin on his was his security. Your hands held his heart. Your voice was what he imagined Heaven to sound like. You were his forever. You were his home. You were his peace when the world was too great to bear.

Mr. Mountain and his Bun, could anything be more wonderful? In your eyes, nothing could be better than that. Nothing could be better than loving Choi San. And to him, nothing could be more perfect than loving you with every fiber of his being.

———————————————————————

Taglist: @stolasisyourparent

1 October 2023:

Thank you for reading this far! If you like it please consider reblogging it helps a LOT! Please remember that this is a work of fiction and all of the idols mentioned are used as face claims for characters I’ve come up with. None of their actions or behaviors are indicative of who they maybe be IRL :)

#ateez x female reader #ateez san #ateez choi san #san x reader #ateez smut #kpop x reader #roommates to lovers #best friends to lovers #fwb to lovers #jungkook at the scene of the crime #lazystarwrites #ateez fanfic #non idol au

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snow-143 · 8 months

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Water Coloured Tears | Jeon Jungkook

pairings | childhood bsf jungkook x artist reader

genres | angst, childhood bsfs, hurt/ comfort?, college au, fuckboy jk, eventual smut

summary | college. everybody dream right? you finally get to leave home and have all the freedom you like, but you didn't care about any of that, you were happy as long as you had your best friend with you. except he's done a full 180 on how he used to be and you despise who he is, but now you have to suffer through a 5 month art project with him as your muse.

warnings | swearing like a lot (i’m british), alcohol, angst, probs drugs, eventual smut, fuckboy jjk, she resents him a shit ton, forced proximity, ik nothing about art classes don’t come for me, i’m using british school holidays bc it’s easier for me, more to be added

one- pilot

two- drunk call

three- drunken rambles (jks pov)

four- dont waste my time

five- mommy’s boy

six- late night inspo

seven- forgot you were insane

eight-

#bts non idol au #bts x reader #fanfic #bts fanfic #bts angst #jungkook #jeongguk #jeon jungkook #kpop fanfic #jungkook fanfic #angst #fluff #smut #college au #bts #bts jungkook #artist au #bts art au

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scarlet2007 · 9 months

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⊹ ₊˚꒷꒦︶⊹ Highschool sweethearts₊︶꒷꒦︶

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Pairing: Yandere! BTS Jimin x reader. [ Master list ]

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Summary: You caught the attention of the highschool sweetheart.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Warnings: Yandere themes, Kidnapping, use of Chloroform, Possessive and manipulating behaviour, Peer pressure, controlling behaviour.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Word count: 1.3k

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

It was finally happening. It was the end of the school year, and Jimin was finally graduating. You were more happy about it than he was, as now you won't have to face him in school anymore.

He was in his senior year of high school while you were in your junior year. Everything was fine, until one day you caught the attention of the sweetest guy in high school. Or at least that's what everyone says he is.

You at first liked him, he was gentle, handsome and popular but never once did he act coldly towards anyone. He would even stand up to those who would get bullied. He was the embodiment of kindness and everyone loved him, even teachers and staff.

And that was what made you helpless.

You could never forget that day, and Jimin made sure that you never will.

Oh, how you wished you never participated in that damned dance competition that your high school organised.

It was the start of the year when the dance competition was announced. You were pretty thrilled to participate as dancing was one of the things you felt confident in. The teacher that was in charge of organizing loved your enthusiasm as you were one of the first people to participate from your year.

You got the second prize in the female category while Jimin got the first prize in male. And in the general category, you got the first prize, a tie between you and Jimin.

You walked up to the stage as you bowed down to the hosts and Jimin, as he was your senior, before taking your certificate and shared trophy. Your hand brushed against his as you both held the trophy, standing close to each other as the photographer took a photo of you both.

Walking off the stage, Jimin caught your hand in his, making you turn around.

"Oh, um, can I have your number? To discuss who should take this trophy, of course." He chuckled nervously, smiling at you as he blushed slightly.

You, of course, were smitten by him. With how cute he looked as he asked you, reminding you of an innocent child asking their parents for something sweetly.

Oh, how wrong you were.

OlYou nodded as you gave him your number without any second thoughts.

Oh, that was one of your many mistakes. Your fate was already sealed.

After that, you and Jimin decided to keep the trophy at your house.

You and Jimin started to chat everyday, to the point that you both were constantly texting each other and talking to each other in real life.

It was almost like a dream! A dream come true!

Oh, but nightmares are dreams too, sweetheart.

It started out small, but soon enough, you started to notice how Jimin was constantly trying to manipulate you. You, at first, thought that perhaps you were being paranoid as Jimin was too nice to do such a thing! And even your best friend agreed when you told her about it. But after a while, it became clear. Jimin was not only manipulative, but also possessive. And when you realised it, it was too late.

You blocked him after confronting him about it several times, and every time he denied such a thing until you had enough and blocked him, but it was hard because having to face him in school everyday was a pain in your ass. Him constantly making a big show of how sorry he was in front of everyone and you had to accept his apology under peer pressure. You had no one. Even your best friend didn't believe you.

And soon enough, you barely talked to anyone but Jimin. And when you weren't talking to Jimin, you were only allowed to talk to females, not that you mind, but the more you obeyed his rules, the more overbearing he started to act. He became too obsessed.

Oh, and didn't I mentioned that you both weren't even dating yet? Ah, yes, that's right, sweetie! You both were still friends! But that all changed that day.

It was the early August, the rain was pouring heavily, and you were walking out from detention. It was the first time you ever got detention and for what? Even you don't know. You walked up to your homeroom to get your books from your locker.

Petals fell over your head from the bucket over the door as you opened it, your eyes widened as your friends, classmates, seniors and even some teachers stood in front of you. The whole classroom was decorated and there was even a cake on a desk. But what made you more shocked was Jimin. He was in the middle, kneeling down as he held a bouquet of flowers in his hands before he asked you to be his girlfriend.

That was it, your fate was officially sealed yet again.

You should've said no, and you would've said no if it wasn't for the peer pressure, and Jimin knew it.

Almost everyone was chanting, "Say yes! Say yes!" While you stood there in shock and horror. Before muttering a small "Yes", while trying not to cry. Everyone thought that you were so touched that you got emotional, but only one person knew that your tears weren't of joy, they were of horror. And that person was Jimin.

He smiled sweetly at you as he wrapped his arms around you before kissing the top of your head while whispering, "You're mine." In your ears as you shivered in his arms.

A shiver ran down your shine as Jimin gently shook your shoulder, bringing you out of your thoughts. Jimin smiling face greeted you as he stood in front of you with a rose. He wanted to get the trophy back and you agreed, wanting to get rid of that damned thing as soon as possible as it kept reminding you of your cursed fate. But fews days after prom, he suddenly asked you to take it back, saying that he doesn't want it anymore. You tried to refuse, not wanting to keep that reminder with you anymore and not wanting to meet him either. But he kept insisting, to the point it almost sounded like he was begging you and you agreed to take it back, wanting him to stop calling and texting you every other minute just to beg pathetically.

Oh, you shouldn't have given in, sweetie.

He was standing there with a creepy grin on his face. There is something off about him right now. 'Its probably because of the surrounding...' you thought. Jimin called you to the usual "secret" place that you both made as your "personal hang out place", it was night time now and you are in a forest, not deep but still far enough for no one to notice you both. Jimin first took you here when you were having troubles concentrating, the woods were peaceful, it helped a lot and you wanted to keep this place a secret because you don't want people to come here and make it noisy.

"Sweetheart, I have been waiting for this moment for such a long time..." You looked at him, confused as to why he was looking forward to return the trophy.

He chuckled as he stepped closer to you before pulling you into a hug. He caressed your cheeks gently, he had a handkerchief in his hand and for some reason, it was wet.

You leaned away in disgust as the wet handkerchief touched your face. It wasn't uncommon for Jimin to roam around with a handkerchief, he had a habit of carrying one with him almost everywhere.

"Jimin, the fuc-", you were cut off as he pushed the handkerchief against your mouth and nose, covering it completely. You looked at him alarmed as your hands tried to push him away. You scratched him, tried to push him away, held your breath as much as you could, kicked him, pushed your body against his. You tried it all.

All you could remember was Jimin whispering in your ear sweetly, "You're mine, now no one can take you away from me. No one, even you."

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Author notes: If you have any requests, feel free to send in an ask! If I like the idea / feel comfortable with it, I will accept it!

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

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autherpj · 2 months

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𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 𐙚╰┈➤𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙖 𝙛𝙚𝙬 𝙙𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨, 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙘𝙩 ‘𝙘𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙡’ 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙨, 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙨 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙙?

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𐙚 ╰┈➤ 𝙅𝙪𝙣𝙜𝙠𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 𐙚 ╰┈➤ 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛, 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩 & 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩

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↼𝗜𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗫 | #1 | 𝗡𝗘𝗫𝗧⇀

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𝖢𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖠 5 𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗋𝗎𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗑𝗁𝖺𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗅𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝖿𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗄? ‘𝖦𝗈𝗌𝗁’ 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗌, 𝗐𝗂𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋. 𝖶𝗁𝗒?𝖩𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝗒, 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿? 𝖶𝖾𝗅𝗅, 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽’𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗋𝖺𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖽𝖺𝗒, 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗒. 𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝖠 𝗋𝖾𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖠 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 5 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗎𝗍𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗋𝗎𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖥𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝗅𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝗈𝗑𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗄𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝖾𝗒-𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗄𝖾𝗒𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆, 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗐𝗇. “𝗛𝗺” ‘𝖨 𝗀𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒 ’𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍’ 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗈𝖽𝗎𝖼𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 “𝗛𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗼..?” ’𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗎𝗍‘ 𝖲𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖺 𝗁𝖺𝗅𝖿𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗐𝖾𝗋𝗌 ,𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖼𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗎𝗂𝗍𝖼𝖺𝗌𝖾, 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖽𝗈𝗀 𝗍𝗈𝗒𝗌 ,𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽, 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝖠 𝖽𝗈𝗀 𝖻𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝖠 𝖽𝗈𝗀 𝖼𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝖿𝖾𝗐 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗑𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾. 𝖦𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗇𝗈𝗈𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋, 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗄, 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖿𝗋𝗂𝗀𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗋.

𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖠𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗑𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝗂𝗀 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 ‘𝖬𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝗒 𝖺𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀’ 𝖲𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝗎𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗌 ‘𝖱𝗈𝗈𝗆𝗂𝖾’ 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗉𝖾𝗋, 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋.

𝖩𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗋𝗎𝗉𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀. ‘𝖲𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌’ “𝗛𝗘𝗬 𝗦𝗜𝗥𝗜 𝗔𝗡𝗦𝗪𝗘𝗥” 𝖽𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 f𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝖠𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽. 𝖯𝗎𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋 . “𝗦𝗼𝗹𝗮𝗿?” -𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 , 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗉 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖽𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌. “𝖸/𝗇!” -𝖲𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗑𝖼𝗂𝗍𝖾𝖽𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 ”𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗵, 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁’𝘀 𝘂𝗽” 𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗐𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 back, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 “𝖨 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄, 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍?” “ 𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗵 𝗜’𝗺 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘄𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗴𝗼 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 9 𝗶𝘁’𝘀 𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗹𝘆 12𝗮𝗺 ” 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁’ “𝖸𝖾𝖺𝗁, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗎𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗈, 𝗒𝖾𝖺… 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗈 𝗐𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗇 30 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 ,𝖮𝖧, 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖮𝖱𝖣𝖤𝖱 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖢𝖪𝖤𝖭!” You l𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁ed “ 𝗔𝗹𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗲 “ 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿. 𝖶𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗋𝗒 𝗈𝖿𝖿, 𝖠𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗋𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗌. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗇, 𝗇𝗈𝗈𝖽𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖣𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝖻𝖾𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗈𝗑𝖾𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗄𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆,𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖡𝖠𝖬 𝗀𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗈𝗀𝗌, 𝗂𝗇 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋.

𝖧𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝖻𝗎𝗓𝗓𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗀𝗎𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆, 𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗆𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝗎𝗉 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆, 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝖺𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗀𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆. “𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝖾” -𝖲𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝖾𝗑𝗁𝖺𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗒𝖾𝖽 “ 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝘂𝘆𝘀 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻’𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁” -𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖠𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾𝗌 ”𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗈𝗎𝗍” -𝖶𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽, 𝖠𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗀𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖠 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖽𝗀𝖾 “𝖸𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝗂𝖽, 𝖧𝗐𝖺𝗌𝖺 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝗈𝗈𝗇𝖻𝗒𝗎𝗅 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗉𝗂𝗓𝗓𝖺 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌”-𝖲𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝖤𝗑𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽 , 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖠 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋. “𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗑𝖾𝗌?” 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝖰𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖾𝖽’ “𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾?” 𝖲𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗈𝗅𝗌. “ 𝗠𝘆 𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗜 𝗴𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝘀𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗺𝗼𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗳𝗳 𝗶𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝗜 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗿𝘂𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 “ 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆’ “𝖮𝗁, 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅? 𝖲𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗆𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝖾𝗍?”- 𝖲𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝖾𝖽. “𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝖿 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝖠 𝗀𝗎𝗒?”-𝖶𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗇𝗂𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽 “𝖶𝗁𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝖠 𝗀𝗎𝗒?”- 𝖲𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝖿𝖿𝗅𝖾𝖽 “𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐, 𝖨 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇, 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗌𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇?” -𝖶𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽’ “𝗡𝗼 𝗜 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻’𝘁, 𝗜𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗯𝗲 𝗮 𝗴𝘂𝘆 𝗜 𝗴𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘀, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗜’𝗺 𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱𝗻’𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗶𝗳 𝗵𝗲 𝗸𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝗮 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗴𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗲” 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽’ “𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝖿 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐, 𝖫𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎?”-𝖲𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝖾𝖽’ “𝖡𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝖾𝗍, 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝖿 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐” -𝖶𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝗀𝗂𝗀𝗀𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋’ “ 𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗜𝗡 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗙𝗨𝗖𝗞𝗡 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗧 “ 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗒𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗌 𝖲𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾𝗋’ “𝖨 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝖺 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 “-𝖲𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗃𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀’ ” 𝗗𝗼𝗻’𝘁 “ 𝖸𝗈𝗎 playfully threat

𝖠𝗌 𝖧𝗐𝖺𝗌𝖺 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗋𝖾- 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋 “𝖲𝗈 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖽𝗈 𝗂𝖿 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝖺 𝗀𝗎𝗒?”-𝖬𝗈𝗈𝗇𝖻𝗒𝗎𝗅 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗎𝗉 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇. “ 𝗡𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗜 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗮𝘀 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝘀 𝗵𝗲’𝘀 𝗰𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗻 ” -𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 “𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾?” -𝖬𝗈𝗈𝗇𝖻𝗒𝗎𝗅 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽’ “𝖡𝖠𝖧𝖧𝖧𝖠𝖧𝖠”- 𝖲𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗋 “ 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧. 𝗢𝗺𝗴 𝗻𝗼𝗼, 𝗜 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗯𝗲 𝗰𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗰𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝘁 ” 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 ‘𝖲𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗀𝖺𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝖿 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒.’ “𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾?” -𝖶𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗌 𝗎𝗉 𝖲𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀. “𝖠𝗇𝖽, 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖠 𝖬𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇?” -𝖧𝗐𝖺𝗌𝖺 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗌 𝖠𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎. “𝖨 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾” - 𝖲𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗆𝖺𝖼𝗁’ “𝖨 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇!” -𝖲𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇��𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌’ “ 𝗡𝗼𝗼 ” - You try explaining “𝗜𝘁𝘀 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗼𝗿𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆’𝘃𝗲 𝗮𝘀𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗲𝗱 𝗜’𝗹𝗹 𝘀𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗵𝗶𝗺, 𝗜 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝗶𝘁’𝘀 𝗮 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗜𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀𝗻’𝘁 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗹𝘆 “ - 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗋𝗎𝗍𝗁𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗒 “𝖶𝖾𝗅𝗅, 𝖺𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋” -𝖶𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝗃𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽‘ “ 𝗡𝗢𝗢 𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗡𝗜 “ -𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝖾𝖽’ “𝖮𝗄 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗃𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗐𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗍 6 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗇’𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖾𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝖾𝗍, 𝖫𝖤𝖳𝖲 𝖦𝖮𝖮!”-𝖬𝗈𝗈𝗇𝖻𝗒𝗎𝗅 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖽’ “𝗅𝖾𝗍’𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅𝗌“ -𝖧𝗐𝖺𝗌𝖺 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽’ “𝖡𝖾𝗍” - 𝖲𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽 ‘

𝖶𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗋 ,𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗂𝗓𝗓𝖺, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖬𝗈𝗈𝗇𝖻𝗒𝗎𝗅 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 ,𝗐𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 9,𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 5 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅𝗌 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒. ” 𝗛𝗲𝘆 𝗴𝘂𝘆𝘀, 𝘄𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗴𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘆 𝗶𝘁’𝘀 4:20 ” -𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗅ing 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾’ “𝖲𝗁𝗂𝗍, 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌?, 𝖨 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇!” -𝖲𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖺𝗀’ “𝖠𝗅𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖨 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗆𝗒 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍, 𝖸/𝗇 𝖨’𝗅𝗅 𝖽𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗎𝗉, 𝗒𝖾𝖺?”-𝖧𝗐𝖺𝗌𝖺 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝖾𝖽’ “ 𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗵 𝗜 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗽𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 “ - 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽 ‘ “𝖲𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗉 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗅𝗒” - 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌’ “ 𝗠𝗮𝘆𝗯𝗲 “ - 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄’ “𝖮𝗁 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍!!” -𝖬𝗈𝗈𝗇𝖻𝗒𝗎𝗅 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗄𝖾 “𝖶𝖺𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾?” - 𝖲𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽’ “𝖮𝗁, 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝗎𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍?” - 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽’ “𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗵, 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁’𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝘆 𝗜 𝘀𝗮𝗶𝗱 𝗺𝗮𝘆𝗯𝗲, 𝗜𝗳 𝗜 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝘂𝗽 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗜 𝗰𝗿𝗮𝘀𝗵 𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗠𝗼𝗼𝗻𝗯𝘆𝘂𝗹? “ - 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝖾𝖽’ “𝖧𝖤𝖸, 𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝖾𝗋” -𝖶𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖿’ “𝖶𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋” 𝖬𝗈𝗈𝗇𝖻𝗒𝗎𝗅 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽 “ 𝖸𝖤𝖠𝖧, 𝖾𝗑𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖬𝖤𝖤?!” -𝖲𝗁𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖾𝖽 “ 𝗜 𝘀𝗮𝗶𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗲’𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗱𝗿𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝘀𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿, 𝘀𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗲.“ -𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽’ “𝖮𝗁” 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝖾𝖽’ “𝖧𝗈𝗐 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗄 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝖾𝗍” -𝖲𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽’ “𝖧𝖤𝖸, 𝖨 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝗋𝖾-𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖾 5 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗎𝗍𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝗈 𝗒’𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐” -𝖶𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝖻𝗂𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄’ “𝖨’𝗅𝗅 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌, 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗐𝗇” -𝖬𝗈𝗈𝗇𝖻𝗒𝗎𝗅 𝗃𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁ing 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗇’ “𝖶𝖠𝖨𝖳 𝖨 𝖶𝖠𝖭𝖳 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖮𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖦𝖱𝖤𝖤𝖭 𝖠𝖯𝖯𝖫𝖤!” -𝖶𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖬𝗈𝗈𝗇𝖻𝗒𝗎𝗅’ “𝖠𝗇𝗒𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗌𝗈 𝗁𝗈𝗍 𝗋𝗇 𝖨𝖽 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄.” -𝖧𝖺𝗐𝗌𝖺 𝗐𝗂𝗀𝗀𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗌 ‘𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗏𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋’ “ 𝖨’𝗆 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗈𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖴𝖦𝖧 𝖲𝖮 𝖧𝖮𝖳” “ 𝗖𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗶𝗳 𝘄𝗲 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗱𝗿𝘂𝗻𝗸, 𝘄𝗲 𝗺𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝘂𝗽 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗼𝗴𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 “ -𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗃𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽’ “𝖨𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗌𝖾? -𝖲𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝖽, 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀’ “𝖡𝖠𝖧𝖠𝖧𝖠𝖧𝖠” “𝖮𝗄 𝗅𝖾𝗍’𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 8 𝖺𝗇𝖽 I 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗈 𝖬𝗈𝗈𝗇𝖻𝗒𝗎𝗅 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽” -𝖧𝗐𝖺𝗌𝖺 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌

“𝖠𝗅𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗐𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗋𝗒, 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗎𝗍, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖨 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 ,𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗈” -𝖶𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗄𝖾 when 𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇ing “ 𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲’𝘀 𝗠𝗼𝗼𝗻𝗯𝘆𝘂𝗹? “- 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝖾𝖽 peeking 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗋’ “𝖮𝗁 𝗌𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝗎𝗉 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍?” -𝖶𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎’ ” 𝗦𝗵𝗶𝘁 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗵, 𝗜 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗼𝘁 “ “𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 “ -𝖧𝗐𝖺𝗌𝖺 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌’ ”𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗵, 𝘆𝗼𝘂’𝗿𝗲 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 “ -𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾.

𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖬𝗈𝗈𝗇𝖻𝗒𝗎𝗅 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗎𝗉 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗌 𝖠𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗎𝗉, “𝖣𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆?” 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗋’ “𝖮𝗈, 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖨 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆” -S𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽’ “𝖶𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋”-𝖲𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝖠𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋,𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖬𝗈𝗈𝗇𝖻𝗒𝗎𝗅 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝖫𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽 ,𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝗇 𝖾𝗒𝖾, 𝖠 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗆𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎,“ 𝙊𝙃-𝙎𝙝𝙞𝙩! “ -𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝖽 ‘ 𝖺𝗅𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖻𝖻𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗅 ” 𝗙𝘂𝗰𝗸-𝗦𝗼𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗶 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻’𝘁 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗯 𝘆𝗼𝘂 “ -𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖺𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗀𝗈’ ”𝙎𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙮, 𝙉𝙤-𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙚𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙚. 𝙎𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣 “ -𝖧𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗂𝗓𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝖾𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎, noticing 𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗆, 𝖲𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗉 𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀’ “𝖪𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗄𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 —” -𝖠 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 “—𝖺𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗈𝖽𝗎𝖼𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝗎𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋“ -𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝖲𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 “𝖸/𝖭, 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗄?” -𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎‘ “ 𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗵, 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗰𝘂𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 “ -𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗃𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌ing 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 to 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖿𝖾𝗐 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖺𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆. “𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅𝗅𝗅” -𝖧𝗐𝖺𝗌𝖺 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝖾𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆.’ ” 𝗗𝗶𝗱𝗻’𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗲𝗲 𝗜 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗵𝗶𝘁 𝗯𝘆 𝗮 𝘄𝗮𝗹𝗹? “ -𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝖬𝗈𝗈𝗇𝖻𝗒𝗎𝗅 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗈𝖼𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖽’ “𝖸𝖾𝖺 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗇 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝖺𝖿𝖿𝖾” -𝖲𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗃𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗌’ “𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖺𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗈?” 𝖧𝗐𝖺𝗌𝖺 𝗀𝗂𝗀𝗀𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆’ “𝖸𝖾𝖺 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗐? 𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍?“-𝖬𝗈𝗈𝗇𝖻𝗒𝗎𝗅 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽’ -𝖶𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗇𝗂 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗀𝗂𝗀𝗀𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽’ “𝖸𝗎𝗉 𝖻𝗂𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗂𝗇 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌” -𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝖾𝖽 “ 𝗦𝗵𝘂𝘁 𝘂𝗽, 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆’𝗹𝗹 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂 “ -𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 “𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾’𝗌 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍..” 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾 “𝖧𝖾𝗒, 𝖸/𝗇 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍?” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝖾. “𝗔𝗹𝗮𝗻 ?” -𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖠𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗂𝖿 𝗐𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗍…“ 𝗜 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲𝗻’𝘁 𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗖𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗴𝗲 …

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𝙋𝙊𝙑 𝙎𝙒𝙄𝙏𝘾𝙃𐙚

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“𝘐 𝘎𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘬𝘰𝘰𝘬”-𝘑𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥’ ”𝙎𝙡𝙤𝙬? 𝙉𝙖𝙝…𝙄’𝙢 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙗𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩.” -𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘧𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘫𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶’ “𝘚𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦” -𝘛𝘢𝘦 𝘫𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨’ “𝘍𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵, 𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭”-𝘕𝘢𝘮𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘥 ’ “Y𝘦𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘯 𝘢𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯, 𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵?” -𝘏𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥’ “𝙊𝙝 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙝, 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙩 𝙖 𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙨𝙤 𝙄 𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙝𝙚𝙧 “-𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘺�� “𝘖𝘩 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘶𝘱 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯” -𝘑𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘛𝘢𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘢𝘵 𝘠𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵‘ “ 𝙄’𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙙 “ -𝘑𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘬𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘦’𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘞𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘱 i𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦’ “𝘖𝘩, 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘶𝘱” 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘬𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘫𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵’

𝖶𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗍𝗁, 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖠𝗅𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗎𝗉 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝖠𝗅𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖺𝗐 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝗅𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗃𝖺𝗐 𝖺𝗇𝖽 ,𝖬𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌, 𝖥𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖺 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖻𝗂𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗍𝗁. “𝖧𝖾𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄?, 𝖶𝖺𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗈𝖿 𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗁𝗒𝗌𝗂𝖼𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗀𝖾?” -𝖬𝗈𝗈𝗇𝖻𝗒𝗎𝗅 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗇𝗂 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁, “𝖸𝖾𝖺 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗆𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅/𝖻𝗂𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗋” “𝖶𝖧𝖠𝖳” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝖾𝖽 ”𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗛𝗜𝗠! 𝗜 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗴𝗼𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗽𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗵𝗶𝗺!!! “ - 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗎𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍. “𝗔𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗲𝗻𝗶? “-𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗎𝖻𝗍𝖾𝖽 her 𝖺bout it “ 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖪𝖭𝖮𝖶 𝖨 𝖶𝖮𝖴𝖫𝖣 𝖭𝖤𝖵𝖤𝖱 𝖫𝖨𝖤 𝖠𝖡𝖮𝖴𝖳 𝖦𝖮𝖲𝖲𝖨𝖯” -𝖲𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝖿𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿’ 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗁 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗎𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗆𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝖻𝗃𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗂𝗋𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗅𝗒 2𝖾𝖽 𝖨𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 4.8 𝗀𝗉𝖺 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗌 3.5 𝗂𝗍 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗋𝗒’ “ 𝗜 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝗮 𝗱𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗸! “𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗎𝗉’ “ 𝖮𝖧 𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖮” -𝖲𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎’ ” 𝗛𝗲𝘆 𝗠𝗮𝗴𝗴𝗶𝗲 𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝗺𝗲 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝗮 𝗯𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝗮𝗿𝗴𝗮𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗮,𝗠𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗶𝘁 𝗮 𝗱𝗼𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗦𝗼𝗹𝗮𝗿? “ 𝖠𝗌 𝖬𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝗍𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝗒 𝖲𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖾𝗑𝖼𝖾𝗉𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌 “ 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀?” -𝖲𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝖾𝖽 coming 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗌 “𝗬𝗲𝗮 , 𝗜’𝗹𝗹 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗮 𝗯𝗶𝘁. “ -𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖺’

“ 𝘾𝙖𝙣 𝙞 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙤𝙮𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙨 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙚“ 𝖢𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗋𝖽, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗂𝗀 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌, 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗎𝗉 𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖼𝗎𝗍𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖢𝖺𝗅𝗏𝗂𝗇 𝖪𝗅𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝖳-𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗋𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 ,𝖧𝗐𝖺𝗌𝖺 𝖽𝖾𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗐 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂—” 𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩…”-𝖧𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 ‘ ”𝙄 𝙢𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙠, 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚 “ -𝖲𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗎𝗍’ “𝗠𝗮𝗴𝗴𝗶𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘁𝘀 𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲—“ -𝖧𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗉𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾, 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 ,𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗂𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝖠 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗎𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗈𝗈𝗌. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗈𝖼𝖼𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆��𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖳𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 26, 𝖠 𝗆𝗈𝖽𝖾𝗅 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖢𝖺𝗅𝗏𝗂𝗇 𝖪𝗅𝖾𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗑𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖿𝗎𝗇. 𝖶𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗋

…𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 4 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝗈 𝖠𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖻, 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝖼𝗄 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖠 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗈 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗇𝗒. 𝖥𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗁 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗎𝗉, 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 “ 𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗸𝗼𝗼𝗸..” Y𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖫𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗉𝖺𝗅𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒, 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾, 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗆𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝖿𝗎𝗓𝗓𝗒, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖲𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝗈𝗄 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗃𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗄𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗆 , 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗑𝗂 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗅𝗂��𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗎𝗉, 𝗐𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗎𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗎𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 “ 𝘽𝙖𝙗𝙚, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩? “-𝖧𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝖾𝖽’ 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗐𝖾𝗋, 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗃𝖺𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗐𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝖾𝗌 𝗎𝗇𝖻𝗎𝗍𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗌, 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗐 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌, 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖢𝖾𝗅𝗏𝗂𝗇 𝖪𝗅𝖾𝗂𝗇 boxers 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝖣𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗌𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗉 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗌𝖾 “ 𝙁𝙪𝙘𝙠 𝙮/𝙣, 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙮 “-𝖧𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝗌 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍’ “𝗟𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁.” -Y𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗌𝗄 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗂𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖻𝖻𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽, 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗎𝗆 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 , ”𝙇𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙣𝙪𝙢𝙗…” -𝖧𝖾’𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗅𝖾, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽. “ 𝗧𝗵𝗮𝘁’𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗜’𝗺 𝗮𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗸𝗼𝗼𝗸…”

𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗀𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖺𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗋 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 ,𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗀𝖺𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗐𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾, 𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝖿𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝖿𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝖺 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗈 𝗇𝗂𝖼𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝖺 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗆𝗂𝗍 𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗍𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝖺 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗅𝗆𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾, 𝖲𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗐𝗂𝗆𝗉𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁, “ 𝙝𝙤𝙬’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮?” ”𝗠𝗵𝗺” “𝙂𝙤𝙤𝙙, 𝙄’𝙢 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜” 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝖽𝗀𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝖾𝖾𝗓𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖺𝗌𝗌, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗋𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 “𝘿𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙗𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙚, 𝙬𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 “ 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 “𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙤𝙧? “ 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝗌 ,𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍 ,𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝖺𝗌𝗉, 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗅𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗋𝗆 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒, 𝗇𝗂𝖻𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗆𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖡𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗆𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝖽𝖽𝗅𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗅𝗒 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄. ”𝗔𝗵-𝗸𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗙𝘂𝗰-𝗳𝗮𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿 !“

𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝖾𝖾𝗓𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗆𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗈𝗍, 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗉𝗉𝗒, 𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋, 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗋𝗒 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗀𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝗉𝖾𝖾𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗐 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆𝗌, 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗋𝗒 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗆𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗍, “𝘾𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙚, 𝘼𝙨𝙨 𝙪𝙥 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣.“ W𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝖾𝗑𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝖽𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗇, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 moved 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌 gripping 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗆𝗉𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗂𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗌 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 ”𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙚?” “𝘄𝗮𝗶𝘁…” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝗎𝗉 𝖺 𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗌’ ”𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙬𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜, 𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥?”“𝗡𝗼, 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲.” He 𝖼𝗁𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗌𝗌, 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆s𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝖿𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗀𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾, 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗇𝖾𝖽 “𝙁𝙪𝙘𝙠…” 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝖺𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗂𝗋, 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒s in place 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝖽𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽, 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒, 𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗈𝗈𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇, 𝖯𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝖼𝖾, 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗉𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾. “𝙔/𝙣𝙣..” “𝙁𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙣 𝙖𝙢𝙖𝙯𝙞𝙣𝙜..”- 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗇𝖾𝖽’ “ 𝗞𝗼𝗼𝗸.. 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗽 ”-𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾se 𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗌 ’ 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 “𝗙𝘂𝗰𝗸-𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗸𝗸 𝘆𝗲𝘀𝘀𝘀”-𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖼𝗎𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 “𝘼𝙡𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙚..” 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗉𝗉𝗒 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝖺𝗅𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗆𝖺𝖼𝗁 …

𝗐𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗁𝗎𝗀𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾, 𝖧𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝗉𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝖻𝗎𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖾𝗇 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇 𝗈𝖿𝖿, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒, 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗃𝖺𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 .

“𝑯𝒆𝒚”

“𝐇𝐢, 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐈’𝐦 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭 𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧”

“𝑶𝒉, 𝒊𝒕’𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎”

“𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭?”

“𝑰’𝒎 𝒋𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒌𝒐𝒐𝒌, 𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆…”

—————————————-𐙚-—————————————

↼𝗜𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗫 | #1 | 𝗡𝗘𝗫𝗧⇀

—————————————-𐙚-—————————————

𝙊𝙈𝙂𝙂𝙂𝙂 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙤 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨! 𝙇𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨! 𝙄’𝙢 𝙨𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙄 𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙤𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙥𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙄’𝙢 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙤𝙣 𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙙𝙪𝙡𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙬!

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bluenpjm · 2 months

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CLOUD9 AGENCY ☁ JJK X OC

synopsis. faced with decisions that can change the course of her career, the art director of the cloud9 agency decides it is time to act and reignite the flame she had once lost. and all because of an intern… genre. non-idol au ; slice of life au ; intern!jungkook ◦ fluff ◦ angst ◦ smut pairing. JJK x OC rating. M wordcount. 4.8K warnings. foul words, violent thoughts, sad vibes and life not making sense, drinking, arguing, just a lot of different feelings! a/n. a really really late birthday gift to my #1 supporter of this story. happy late birthday lulu, you're the best! 🥺💛🌻 chapters. 3 — 4 — 5

It hadn’t been the first time someone had disappointed Carolina. It had been, however, the first time she had allowed someone to get too close too quickly. And that was a mistake she wouldn’t be committing again anytime soon. After all, you learn from your mistakes. At least you should.

She storms towards the elevator, her anger seething within her.

Carolina doesn’t care to collect any of her belongings that stay laid in her office—and for the sake of everyone in that entire building, it would be best that her little purple troll with neon green hair would be in the box with her stuff the next day. Horace—the troll—had been her companion throughout the most challenging moments of trite; that, and her camera. Cassandra never bothered to replace the agency’s old one that, for the entire time Carolina had been with Cloud9, had been broken and merely acting as yet another item in her glass office to be left to collect dust.

Already inside the elevator, she faces the crowd for the seconds it takes the doors to close—some people had already started whispering, others dispersed once faced with Cassandra, while the one intern that she cared about didn’t move; her eyes are on him and she doesn’t look away until the doors close. As she begins its descent, she’s met with her reflection in the steel doors. She wants to scream and punch someone. Wholeheartedly, she wouldn’t mind punching both Jungkook and Cassandra straight in the face. “Stupid Jungkook,” she mutters under her breath, hands falling to her hips. “Fuck you and your meaningless empty words.”

Her chest keeps rising and falling as she crouches on the floor, practicing her breathing exercises to calm her racing nerves, as the box keeps on dinging, signaling that she is closer and closer to the ground level.

Stepping out of the tall building that had been her workplace for the last couple of years, Carolina stood on the bustling sidewalk, the busy street teeming with people despite the hour. She hated early meetings. In fact, she hated all sorts of meetings. There was no need to have an entire team stop their days so that they could waste 45 minutes of their busy schedules to speak about something that could easily be an email.

Her work day was managed according to her own will. The team that worked closely with the creative director was used to her being offline in the morning and extremely active during night hours. Her brain became electric after midnight and they had all been able to coordinate a pretty balanced work schedule so they could communicate effectively.

With its modern design, the towering building loomed above her. Car horns, the hurried footsteps, and the chatter of pedestrians created a symphony of urban chaos that served as background noise for the audio message she was recording for her best friends, trying her best to veil her frustration and disappointment as she recounted the situation. She knew she didn’t have to lie; in fact, it only worried her that her friends would jump Cassandra in the street or key her car. It wasn’t like her to openly discuss her feelings. Instead, she made some jokes.

“But yeah—” She pauses briefly, phone momentarily touching her lips. “I’ll be seeing you guys at 8 pm. As usual. Peace out!”

She hits the green button, sending her audio through, before immediately typing a quick message so they don’t rush to listen to her recording. 15 entire minutes of her ranting about her day so early in the morning would definitely alarm them.

Her ride finally arrives and she lets out a sigh of relief as she climbs into the backseat. The added feature of no conversation was a blessing as her mind throbbed with frustration. Leaning back against the comfortable leather seats, Carolina closes her eyes and lets the soothing melodies of the music playing on the radio wash over her. As the car began its journey, the towering buildings of the city gradually faded into the background, replaced by the familiar sights of her own neighborhood. The streets became lined with quaint houses and small local businesses.

From time to time, she would open her eyes, checking that the normal-looking guy who was driving her home didn’t have a little bit of Joe Goldberg in him and took a detour to his secret layer where he would try to murder her. She had been devouring true crime podcasts and it had quickly taken over her mind—whichever situation she found herself in could be the perfect crime scene. Sometimes she even found herself looking for ways to leave clues behind so that the investigative team could find her body.

But as her paranoid mind came to ease, she couldn’t help but appreciate the contrast between the hectic city and the peacefulness of her neighborhood. The cool breeze gently brushed against her face as she peered out of the window, and her home was just around the corner. She longed for a cold shower, a chance to wash away the stress and frustrations that had been weighing on her shoulders.

Successfully arriving home without being kidnapped, Carolina takes the stairs up to the third floor. The elevator in her building had been making weird noises and after getting stuck there twice, she decided not to put her luck to the test any longer. The angels were probably worrying about someone else because she was having one hell of a day.

She feels exhausted and defeated. As she closes the door behind her, one of her shoes is already flying as she swiftly takes it off. The other follows suit. Tossing her keys on top of her bag that had also been thrown to the floor, she moved with automatic precision toward the bathroom.

The soothing sound of running water fills the room as Carolina turns the faucet, letting it pour into the bathtub. The cold shower is replaced by a warm bath that would hopefully serve as a place to unwind and let go of the stress that had accumulated throughout her morning. The day had barely started and she was feeling drained.

Stepping into the warm water, she lets out a sigh of relief as it caresses her skin, the tension in her muscles slowly melting away. But the feeling of betrayal kept lingering in her mind, as she could still vividly picture Jungkook’s doe eyes stuck to the floor, the question of why he hadn’t backed her up as he promised haunting her. Closing her eyes, Carolina submerges herself in the water, wanting nothing more than the world surrounding her to fade away.

By the time Carolina left her bathroom, she was surprised to find her living room dimly lit, washed in tones of orange as the sun had already begun to set. She fetched her phone and wasn't surprised by the thousands of messages her friends had sent her, both on their group but also in the private chat. She was expecting them to explode by the news—that, and that they were going to kill her because of the lack of communication.

Her wrinkly fingers wouldn't allow her to leave a fingerprint behind, making it impossible to unlock her phone. Her attention fell on the time displayed on the screen instead and she knew she had to hurry if she didn't want to be yet again late to their dinner date.

Carolina’s encounter with her friends that evening was based on venting frustrations and only after she had some drinks and shared some laughs, they discussed her situation with Cassandra and Jungkook. As she had expected, the two girls immediately began a plan to make the lives of the two people who were tormenting her friend’s mind a living hell.

As the evening drew to a close, Carolina managed to put her friends in their respective cars, calling one for herself while feeling grateful for them. She knew that with the two she would never be alone in her struggles and that they would always be there for her. But as she arrived home, she couldn’t help but check her phone for any missed messages. Despite still being upset with Jungkook, deep down she craved to have something from him—some sort of explanation for his reaction earlier. Scrolling through her social media, the feelings only grew inside her and she decided it was time to call it a day. Setting her phone down, the silence in her room is deafening and it feels like it’s spinning. She just wanted to close her eyes and forget this day ever happened.

As days turned into weeks, Carolina’s rage faded down.

After quitting her job, her days settled into a monotonous rhythm. Her once bustling schedule was now a simple sequence of actions that played out in the confined space of her house. The path she treaded between her bed, the fridge, and the bathroom would soon start to feel worn, like a well-trodden trail that could be found in the woods.

During the initial days of her newfound routine, Carolina found a peculiar comfort in the limited space, as if the world beyond was too vast and too overwhelming to face. Deep down, she had been craving this alone time; this silence—a relief. The constant ringing of her phone, which had once been a constant reminder of work-related stress, was now replaced by a soothing quietness. For the first time in a while, she was able to breathe in the stillness of her surroundings.

However, a sense of emptiness began to creep into her life. Despite the wanted freedom, an undeniable void had emerged. Her phone became a reminder and creator of chaos in her mind. Whenever it chimed, her heart would skip a beat, anticipation rising in her chest. Her thoughts darted between who could be the culprit behind the sensation of the mini heart attack she suffered with each buzz. Most times, it would be her friends. But those weren’t the calls or messages that she craved; her mind darted to the possibility of it being him.

Jungkook crossed her mind endless times per day. The man who, somehow, had vanished from her life. His absence, although appreciated at first, started to gnaw at her, the frustration and anger that had been her initial response giving way to more complex emotions. She started feeling helpless. The more shows she binged, the more she started to realize that her life, in that moment, was stripped of sense.

Carolina’s thoughts seemed to gravitate towards Jungkook with every passing day. She would catch herself wondering where he was, what he was doing, and whether he was thinking about her as much as she thought of him. And every time, she would end up feeling ridiculous by occupying her mind with someone whom she believed she didn’t mean half as much to.

“So,” At the sound of her friend’s voice, Carolina’s gaze left the blurry images that were displayed on her screen to face the girl sitting on the other end of the couch.

“Oh no…” She sighed, fighting the urge to massage her temples. “what is it this time?”

“How’s that portfolio coming along?” Deo eyed Carolina through her eyebrows as she sipped on the noodles that were fuming from the cup in her hand.

“It’s coming.” The short answer was an easy indicator of the lack of interest regarding the topic. “Ya’ know.”

The friend hummed and Carolina pursed her lips together. Her friends had been bugging her for the past week so that she would get some work done. Deep down, she knew that this was their attempt at making her leave the somewhat depressing state she had allowed her body to grow into. She wasn’t like this—the type to back down; cross her arms while the world revolved and she remained still. She was a force of nature to be reckoned with. And so, it was odd to see her so defeated.

That night, however, after saying goodbye to her friend, she didn’t go to bed. She didn’t slouch on her couch either, as usual, Netflix playing on the screen of the TV with the most recent drama until she either finished it, the sun rose or she fell asleep. Instead, she managed to take all the clothes that laid on her desk’s chair and moved them to her bed, allowing her to sit in front of her laptop for the first time in weeks.

The first couple of times she hit the power button, it wouldn’t turn on, completely drained of power. So, Carolina lost a couple more minutes looking for the charger.

It took some minutes for the machine to reboot and for the screen to make her dark eyes glow. Opening the first drawer of her desk, she fetched an old dotted notebook and started to outline a strategy. In her mind, it wasn’t that clear yet, but Carolina had started to define, step by step, how she was going to get control of her life again and make it incredible.

The visual identity of her very own agency wasn’t done that night. The sun rose and she continued glued to her screen. And after a couple of days, she contacted previous clients, explained her new situation, and offered her services. She planned to start her very own agency, offering her creative mind to those in need. A modern-day superhero, if one could say.

The first couple of months were hard—harder than Carolina had anticipated. Regardless, she was in a good place. After a long day, her mind didn’t wander back to Jungkook; she didn’t think of him at all. He had become a wound that healed—a thought that she managed to wipe completely from her mind.

Someone once said that the most beautiful parts of life were in the small things. Carolina’s small thing lately was the group of people who acted as her employees—some freelancers that she hired to help out on her projects. The group worked weirdly in sync together and they had been a constant in her life in the last weeks.

Lu, a photographer with a keen eye for art and amazing drawing skills, had become a close friend. The other girl in the group was Sarah, a writer who would often pitch in Carolina’s social media strategies. The three girls were walking to the bar after hitting the dance floor of a club for the past thirty minutes.

“Are you official, yet?” Sarah nudged Carolina on her side, head tilting to a table where 5 guys were sitting. The latter’s eyes followed and landed on the one who was trying to vent some air through his black shirt. Jae. Carolina laughed. “Exclusive, then?”

“We’re playing a dangerous game already,” Carolina turned her back to the table, viewing the ludicrous wall of liquor. “Giving it a label will only make it more complicated.”

“Those big round eyes—he looks just like a lost puppy,” Lu’s speech is slurred.

“Getting strays off the streets is more your scene. How’s Lucious?” Carolina joked wittedly, remembering that just last week the girl had sent her a photo of a stray cat that she rescued from the streets. It would be kitty number four now and she was certain that the it’s just temporary—until I find someone to take him talk was a big fat lie.

As the conversation develops between the other two girls, Carolina’s eyes fall on the subject of their previous conversation. If anyone had asked her about him, she would most likely say he's nobody—better yet, a work colleague; someone that she hired now and then to help her out on her gigs. But when her friends asked, it had become quite evident that their little rendezvous after work, which usually resulted in her doing a walk of shame back to her apartment the next morning and ignoring his texts for the next couple of days until work brought them together had become more and more common and Carolina was trying her best so that people wouldn’t notice how he messed with her head and heart. Their eyes meet and Jae gives Carolina a giant smile, which she shyly reciprocates before turning around to face the bar yet again.

People-watching was one of Carolina’s favorite hobbies. Her creative mind would go wild, creating stories according to the faces of the people in her sight, sometimes even roaming into the dialogues they were having. Lucky for her, the area is packed.

A woman, not much older than her—or at least she guessed—playfully twirled her hair between her fingers, a radiant smile on her lips as she talked to a guy next to her. He had the puffiest lips Carolina had seen that night and it was evident by his body language that he hadn’t kissed or been kissed enough that night.

Another man sat not so far away and, in contrast to the people next to him, he was gloomy. Head was swinging up and down as his focus was on catching the attention of the barman to ask him for another drink. That one certainly would have a hard time finding a taxi home. And that is of course if he wouldn’t end up sleeping on one of the benches outside of the club.

The barman that the gloom wanted to attract was busy taking the orders of a young man over the loud noise of the music. The man was leaning his whole body on the counter in a kind of boyish manner, trying his best to speak clearly despite his eyes already appearing somewhat foggy. As he finally finishes, the barman gives him an assertive nod and the man smiles. And suddenly it clicks… that smile. It sends Carolina down a spiral and she has to control the pulsating need that rushes through her body.

“Hey, you’re feeling ok?” Lu rapidly asks but gets no response. “Are you going to throw up?”

Carolina focuses on the man’s movements and sees how he licks his lips as his back hits the counter, attention dispersing to something—or someone—in the crowd. His silhouette was unmistakable amidst the sea of gyrating bodies now that she had found him. Her eyes dart from his profile to the back of his head and it’s like she has laser vision and it’s starting to burn a hole in his head as his hand comes to caress the area. It’s at that moment that their eyes meet for brief seconds.

“I’ll be right back,” Carolina speaks through gritted teeth, not noticing the man taking a double look at her.

“Where are you going?” Sarah’s concern is palpable in her voice as she watches Carolina dart through the crowd.

The pulsating bass of the music reverberated through the dimly lit club, creating a rhythmic throb that seemed to synchronize with Carolina’s racing heartbeat. The air had suddenly become dense with laughter, chatter, and the occasional clink of glasses.

Carolina’s eyes finally meet the man’s surprised ones again. Determination fueled her steps as she pushed through the tightly packed room, navigating the ocean of people that ebbed and flowed around the bar. Each step felt heavy, like a battle against a roaring sea, the tide pushing her back in the shape of warm bodies that added to the suffocating atmosphere. The scent of perfume, sweat, and spilled drinks mingled in the air; it felt nauseating, the surge of emotions of seeing him after so long threatening to spill over.

Her breaths came in shallow gasps as emotions threatened to consume her, and yet, the determination to confront the man she had managed to extinguish from her mind propelled her forward. Carolina stands before him, hands resting on her hips as her eyes lock into his. The world seemed to quiet for a moment, the surrounding chaos fading into the background as she prepared to unleash the torrent of emotions that had simmered within her.

“Carolina, I—” And as her name rolls out of the man’s tongue, she almost crumbles, getting hit by sudden nostalgia. His shaky eyes scan her entirely and she restrains her body from moving. Jungkook is only steps away from her and where she thought hurt would lay, a sense of antipathy is born.

"Cat got your tongue?"

Yet again, they were face to face. Had she been completely honest, Carolina was terrified. Her life was decent—good, even. She was healthy, and happy, and enjoyed what she was doing. She was proud of her projects. She would even wake up some mornings and go for a jog. But encountering Jungkook at the club and being with him in the intoxicating setting such as his car, with all those memories and all those emotions, made her swing back and forth between maintaining her cool and ignoring the feelings that hadn’t been dealt with and, instead, shoved deep down into her core.

“I am sorry.” He paced slightly from the end of the couch he was sitting on to the window. For a few seconds, he stared outside. And then he noticed she hadn’t even blinked. “I am.”

A long sigh escaped Carolina’s puffy lips. She wondered if he was trying to make her believe his words or if he was trying to realize if he meant them. “So you’ve said.”

“I mean it.” Jungkook sat back down on the couch. He stared intensely deep into her eyes, trying to reach the warmth of her soul, sincerity pouring through his, while she gazed at him back, void of emotion. “I really do.”

“Can’t exactly say your word means much.” She reclined back into the armchair. While Jungkook was sitting on her couch, she had decided to take aid in the singleness of her armchair, far enough that he couldn’t reach her. “You say a lot of stuff, but it doesn’t seem to have much meaning.”

Carolina knew that her harsh words and unfiltered sincerity were one of the things that bothered Jungkook. It was probably one of the things that always made him feel like he was walking on eggshells around her. He was the complete opposite. Politically correct, even. His expressions could fail him—although rarely—but he would always say the nice thing, or not say anything at all. Carolina would be truthful if regarding something she was passionate about, even if it meant saying something the other person wouldn’t enjoy.

“I know what I did to you—the way I acted,” Jungkook stopped mid-sentence, almost as if trying to collect his words, afraid that if he said the wrong thing, Carolina would throw him out of the window. She had already pictured that scenario only minutes after he had entered her apartment. “it was wrong, and you deserved better.”

“And yet…” She gesticulates with her hands, emphasizing their position. “here we are.”

He just wasn’t saying the right thing. And if Carolina could be honest, she wasn’t sure there was a right thing to say. Maybe there was nothing that he could say to make up for the heartache she felt. For the humiliation. And seeing him hide his face between his hands as his head hung heavy between his legs, just made her want him gone. And almost as if reading her mind, Jungkook asked “What do you want me to say? I am really really sorry and I haven’t stopped thinking about it and you ever since.”

And that last sentence was like a punch to the gut. “Ya’ know what? I forgive you!” Almost as if Carolina had been suddenly hit with a wave of good spirits, she gets up from her armchair, her tone chipper. “You are forgiven for being an absolute asshole and a liar. I am completely over the fact that you betrayed my confidence.” Her hands fell to her hips and Jungkook’s eyebrows furrowed. “So, please, leave. We don’t have anything else to discuss.”

Grabbing him by the arm, Carolina almost hauls Jungkook from his seat. “Wait,” his manifests are in vain though, because only when he enforces his stance she stops. “I think I loved you,” Jungkook’s eyes are glued to the floor. “and that freaked me out.”

“Oh, give me a fucking break.” Arms in the air, Carolina turns to face her wall. She takes a deep breath. “You loved me so you played me and then never spoke to me again. Can’t imagine what kind of father you’d be!”

He ignores her comeback, “I wanted to be with you every second of my day. I wanted to stay until late in the cloud room with you just noticing how the colors made you look more and more beautiful. You were messing with my mind and I was allowing myself to fall for you, even though it wasn’t appropriate.”

Carolina’s hand doesn’t move from the front door’s handle and she has to strain the laugh that threatens to leave her lips. Jungkook’s stance is incredulous as he doesn’t dare to look her in the eye as he professes what seems to be his undying love for the girl.

“You’re different and you’re weird and you have a funky taste and it scares the living shit out of me. You made me feel. When you smiled at me. When you trusted me with assignments…” Completely ignoring the girl’s wishes for his departure, Jungkook sits back on the couch again, this time on the armrest, his body facing her. “And then I get to the office, late as fuck, already freaking out, and see that scene. I was shocked. And when I finally came to my senses, I felt too embarrassed to reach out to you.” He speaks fast and his lisp is noticeable. Carolina sees how truthful his words are, his tongue poking the inside of his mouth as he faces the empty wall. “I was ashamed that I let you go like that, let you go through that situation with everyone looking at you and I didn’t stand my ground immediately like I should have.”

Jungkook stands up and Carolina’s grip on the handle falls. “So, you have every right to hate me. You can even punch me if you’d like if that would make you less hurt…” he walks closer to her, stopping only a couple of inches away, somewhat afraid that she would take on the offer. He gives her a small smile. “although I would prefer you wouldn’t. You look like you have a mean hook.”

She finally lets out a dry laugh, focusing everywhere but on the man in front of her. She’s trying to remain defensive, fighting the urge from her body to give in to his speech, to believe that he’s saying the truth, that maybe—maybe—this time, things can take a different turn. “So… past tense, huh?”

He ignores her sarcasm completely, as if switching roles and him being the serious one. Jungkook wants to take her hand that hangs mindlessly in the air but restrains himself from doing so. He fights the urge to run his hands through her fluffy hair like he had done so the previous night in his car. His brain can still recall how soft it felt on his fingers and how it smelled of lavender. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I know it’s my fault and I just want you to know that I feel like garbage for hurting someone who meant—means—so much to me.”

Carolina purses her lips together, focusing on the dirt that stained the white of his Converse.

“Can we start over? Friends?” Her eyes land on his extended hand and travel all the way up to his face. He’s hopeful and she can’t wait to touch his skin again, so she shakes it. He smiles radiantly as if a little kid who just won the biggest fluffiest teddy bear at a fair. “I’ll text you tomorrow.” Jungkook wants to sound certain but Carolina senses the shakiness in his voice.

“Just don’t spam me.” Carolina rolls her eyes while they finally let go of each other’s hands. Jungkook gives her one last look, providing her with a silent chance to change her mind and as she doesn’t, he nods, pleased, before leaving.

Carolina’s hands fly to her head, fingers massaging her temples as she is dazed by the event she has just lived. She closes her door, back hitting it for support and her focus relies on outside her window, how the sun had already set and the night had taken over instead, the sky painted dark navy blue while some stars shone in the distance.

There’s a knock on her door and she rushes back to open it, reason completely out of her mind, “Jun—” She stops mid-word. “Jae! I was not expecting you.”

“In my defense, I did text you. Not my fault you don’t look at the thing.” As he makes his way inside, chuckling, he gives her a small peck on the cheek. “Brought food.”

“Great!” Before closing the door, Carolina glanced at the empty corridor, trying to shake the weird feeling that left her stomach turning. It doesn’t go away, not even after she ate the ramen Jae brought. And so she takes this sudden unwell state to send him off. The drawers inside her mind were all messy; she had some organizing to do.

[ chapter 5 ]

☁ want to be tagged in the next part? comment below or send me an ask!

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alphabetboyluvr · 2 months

Text

the curious lifespan of migrating monarchs - jjk

THE CURIOUS LIFESPAN OF MIGRATING MONARCHS (& other aurelian affairs)

pairing: streamer!jk x international student!female oc (s2l)

warnings: strangers to lovers, clubbing, foul language, alcohol, vaping lol, jungkook is kinda famous, the oc is oblivious, the oc is also a foreign student who has very recently arrived in Korea!! (pls note - while i've been in korean uni dorms, i've never been in yonsei dorms specifically so don't shout at me if it isn't supeeeerr accurate), jaykay is speaking in eng for like 90% of this!!, i've also never watched a gaming streamer and had to do so for research lmao so there's a lot of guesswork going awwwn <3, the oc has tattoos, they bond over this, cute nicknames (tokki and nabi <3), one bed trope?? kinda, jaykay lives w/ yoongi and tae (they are streamers too (and dj?? (tae is a bit unhinged))), jungkook wears calvins!, a singular appearance of yoongi in his boxers!!, tipsy hookup, fingering, protected sex (woo!), desk sex, oral (m receiving), girliepop swallows <3, brief mentions of jungkook's starry eyes, lots of kisses, bunny ears, (1) mention of cross-fit

wordcount: 13011

note from holly: this was a commission done for the lovely Michelle over on my kofi page!! i don't open commissions often, but when I do I'm very lucky that the requests are so much fun. this actually ended up being way longer than it was supposed to be lol and is also available on wattpad!! also fun facts for you - I imagine the boys apartment (and jks room!) to be same as jk + jimins place in BD, just a little bigger lmao

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

CLUB SUNDOWN WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE SATURDAY 02:24

Time ceases to exist after the sun goes down in Seoul. It could be two, or it could be five. The only thing that really clues you in on the actual time is the DJ schedule that lights up behind the decks: 02:00-03:00, Blu-Tae.

It's some guy you've never heard of. Looks no older than you. Probably a student, just like the rest of the crowd.

His hair is as blue as his namesake, which does make you smile, and his choices aren't bad either (even if somewhat questionable). You've never heard a jazz remix of Darude's Sandstorm before, and you doubt you ever will again.

Club Sundown is just as rogue as the rest of the city after the sun goes down. Hidden in the basement—like all the best places in Seoul are—the small room is packed to the absolute brim.

Who cares for views and sunsets offered by rooftop bars when you could lose yourself in the debauchery of an eternal midnight, instead?

Drinks are spilt on strangers, and dances have lost the grandeur of old-fashioned waltzes. It's not like you could dance properly, even if you wanted to. There's just simply no space.

Like Alice, you're down the rabbit hole—and oh, how you prefer it to being in the real world. In the shadows, you can be anyone you like.

If you were sober, you'd know this is also the case for daily life. You're in a new country with no ties to your former self. Who you are is who you choose to be.

But the shadows aren't all that dark. The red lights of the club bleed into the cracks, painting everyone in the same subtle hue of danger.

They shine a little light on the identifiers of you; the thin black lines of your patchwork tattoos. Trailing up your arm, they're memories of your past selves, and an indicator of who you hope to become.

"Down this," you say to your dormmate, Rae, handing back over the drink you've just ordered from the bar. "Cloakroom, then dance."

Still carrying your winter coats, you'd wanted to check the place out before committing to it. Entry is free, but the cloakroom is the same price as a drink. It would only be worth putting your coats away if you knew you wanted to stay—and given the fact the DJ was playing O-Zone's Dragostea Din Tei as you entered, you know it's a no-brainer. While his stage name might make you roll your eyes a little, Blu-Tae certainly does cater to your tastes. When you're drunk, and music vibrates through you, it's empyrean. No place you'd rather be.

"Oh, Jesus," Rae gags as she sips the drink you've just handed her. Despite her disgust, she's laughing. Head to toe in black, dark hair loose around her shoulders, she's been your ride-or-die since you arrived in Seoul. Both international students in the same dorm, there's no one you'd rather get up to no good with. "Vodka?!"

You beam at her like you're from the heavens above, wrongfully relegated to the depths of sin. Pretend like you love vodka. It's totally not like you panicked when you saw the menu was all in Korean.

Vodka-coke is a universally understood delicacy—the easiest thing for you to order without making a tit of yourself or butchering the pronunciation. When the bartender ignored your botched attempt at ordering in Korean and answered in fluent English, you'd wanted to melt into the floor. So embarrassing.

You're here, like most foreign students, for a language course. Semester is yet to start, and as much as you've studied and practised hard, it's always different when putting it into practice.

"I'm sorry," you laugh. "It's fine—you can order next time!"

But Rae has the exact same predicament as you. If anything, your language skills are better than hers, so you really have no hope. It's vodka-cokes for the evening, or maybe highballs. Once your tipsy brain manages to compute hangul cocktail names, you'll be golden, but that won't be for another few weeks, yet.

You'll look back at this time of your life fondly, realising how simple it all was, even if it feels incredibly overwhelming right now.

Funnily enough, hope is exactly what you have: for the semester ahead, for this new life you're forging, for the opportunities that may come your way.

In fact, by the time you're on your third vodka coke, you've managed to convince yourself you actually like it. You also can't taste it, thanks to the bartender freepouring a 60-40 ratio of vodka to coke in the first drink. Your tastebuds were wiped out pretty much instantly.

Coats in the cloakroom, you're glad to be wearing thin layers. The room is stuffy; your skin sweaty. While meeting new friends had been the goal, you keep to yourself. Dance like nobody is watching. Hold Rae's hands to stay close and ward off weirdos. Quickly realise that clubs back home are slightly different. Pay it no mind. Ignore the intrusions of hands on waists, because men, disappointingly, are no different.

Or at least most of them aren't.

But most of them don't look like the man in the corner booth, laughing with his friends.

Though he is tall, he's eclipsed by his demeanour. Shoulders broad, he's in a dark T-shirt and pair of jeans. Nothing special. Nothing that warrants such a perplexed stare from you - but he's familiar. You can't place him, but he's got the kind of face you swear you've seen before.

Rae doesn't notice the change in your poise, nor how you're desperately trying to work out where you know him from. Perhaps you've seen him around your university? It's only been a couple of weeks, but people are steadily moving in. Maybe he works at the convenience store you constantly find yourself in? Or mans the front desk of the noraebang you and Rae visit pretty much every other evening?

Impossible, you think. If you'd seen him before, you wouldn't have forgotten him, or the way he constantly toys with his lip rings. Plural. There are signs up around the place stating bar rules. NO SMOKING is rule number three. You've seen his friends pass him over a vape a handful of times. Anyone else, and you'd think it was cringe. Embarrassing.

But in the midst of his laughter settling, and a fresh toke being inhaled, his eyes flicker towards yours.

Perhaps it's just because you're drunk, but you don't avert your gaze. Show no shame. The smile on his lips sinks into a smirk as he exhales. An acknowledgement. A 'hello, trouble'.

Again, any other man, you'd find the vape smoke repugnant. Nasty. Now? Watching the way he flicks his tongue against his lip rings?

You wanna know how it tastes.

Black ink weaves an intricate outline of who he is up his arms. Where he's been. Who he's been. A map, if you will, of his soul.

Much like your own tattoos, he's got thick black lines, and little else. Simple, you assume. A man of convenience. Efficiency.

You wonder if he does everything in life with the precision to match his tattoos, and as your lips wrap around the straw of your vodka-coke, you decide you'd quite like to find out.

Interrupted by Rae pulling you deeper into the crowd, your night is spent in and out of shadows. Attempt subtlety. Try not to make your occasional glances to the corner booth noticeable, just checking if his eyes are still on you. More often than not, they aren't—but sometimes they are, and that's enough to fuel your little flirt.

It's not until the sign behind the DJ booth changes from 03:00-04:00, GLOSS into some other guy that you notice your staring contest opponent has slipped into the shadows himself. The booth is void of both him and his friends. Gone.

"GLOSS has a set at another club," Rae all but yells in your ear, and even then, you barely hear her. "All the hotties left when he did. Let's go."

"Where to?!" You laugh, empty cup in hand. Admittedly, the new guy who's stepped into the DJ booth is just not doing it for you. Blu-Tae was just the right amount of unhinged with classics, whereas GLOSS was definitely cooler, but still fun. Had the club yelling curse words over trap remixes just for the fun of it. This new guy, whose name you don't care to remember, takes himself too seriously, you think.

"It's, like, two blocks down," she yells back, tugging on your wrist to drag you to the stairwell that leads you back up to the streets of Seoul. The hustle and bustle of people trying to go in different directions in the tight place forces you apart, but you figure you'll catch up with her, or that she'll be waiting at the top.

You don't know the roads well enough yet to make it to whichever club it's at alone, and quickly realise when you nearly tumble into the side of a waiting taxi that you're far drunker than expected. Knew the bartender was freepouring, but didn't realise just how free those pours really were.

"Woah, easy trouble," a deep voice sounds from behind you as you're steadied to a more stable position.

"I'm good, I'm good!" You insist, shaking off the hands of your 'saviour'. Have no interest in being a damsel in distress, or some sober guy trying to take advantage of you.

Looking down to check your laces are tied properly, you check over your shoulder to make sure the guy isn't creepily waiting for a thank you that he can turn into an intrusive game of 21 questions—'are you open-minded?' or 'do you live alone?'—but when you glance in his direction, you regret it. Notice the tattoos immediately. Recognise the eyes. Want to die.

"Oh."

"Oh," he says back with a smile, imitating you. Suddenly, the confidence you'd had earlier when looking at him from afar dissolves into nothingness, just like the alcohol in your bloodstream. You feel rather sober, but your body would definitely disagree. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," you nod, suddenly a little stuck for words, desperately trying to play things cool. "Are you okay?"

The pouting of his lips as his tongue runs along the inside of his cheek only serves to make you internally cringe. Men who look like him have no business being on streets like this. Should be in a museum. Strung up on the walls with the other masterpieces. Admired by everyone who looks his way.

In a way you don't yet realise, he is.

Though he's not in galleries, he's often burning into people's laptop screens. Is the background of a fair few thousand lock screens. Indeed, he is admired by everyone who looks his way, just not in the traditional sense.

"I'm not the one who just fell into a car," he reminds you, as if you could forget your embarrassment so quickly.

"Was just seeing if you'd catch me," you bullshit, the confidence you usually have returning tenfold. Was just a momentary blip. He's just a man, after all.

"Oh?" He chirps, decidedly curious. "So you fell for me?"

"Stumbled."

"Semantics."

His fluency, and the fact he just said 'semantics' so casually in conversation, clues you in on the fact he might be a language student, too.

Could be useful study partners for each other, you think, then mentally berate yourself for already masterminding ways to see him again.

"So, where you going?" He asks, not caring to downplay his curiosity. The bartenders were free-pouring his drinks just as severely as they poured yours. The only difference is that his were on the house—'cause you were right. He does have a recognisable face. "Should probably go with you. Make sure you don't fall into the road."

"Stumble," you insist, a little pleased with the boldness of his suggestion, but not wanting to blindly agree. "My friend," you say glancing around, only to find yourself completely alone. "She wanted to go catch the next GLOSS set. So, I guess that's where we're going."

"Just down the road," he says, knowing the schedule like the back of his hand. Bounces from club to club supporting his friends, just like they would for him. If he wanted, he could get a slot up there, too. He doesn't care for it. "I'll walk with you, if you want? My friends are heading there anyway."

It's not a bad offer.

In fact, it's probably the best offer you'll get all night.

"C'mon," he nods his head to the side, encouraging you to follow him. Checks his phone for the time. "Starts in five."

If there's one thing you've indulged in since moving to Seoul, it's how safe you always feel. Security cameras are on every corner, and you've walked home countless times without any issues, even late into the night. While the place isn't perfect, it's far safer than your home country.

Still, you're not a complete idiot.

"It's not wise to follow strange men down dark alleys," you tell him.

He holds out his hand. Waits for you to shake it. Cocks a brow when you hesitate, so introduces himself.

"Jungkook. Nice to meet you. Now, can we please hurry up? I promised I'd be there."

Narrowing your eyes, you don't shake his hand. Arms folded over your chest, there is ice to your exterior, and given how warm his eyes are, you doubt it'll last for very long. May as well keep up this hard-to-get act while you still can.

Walking on past him, you call back, "Alright then. Lead the way."

In the domed mirror meant for reversing cars at the end of a tight alley, you see him laugh. "Wrong way, idiot."

Pausing, you scrunch your face up. Don't turn to face him for at least a second or so—but when you do, you're surprised to see him walking towards you. Hooking his arm around your waist, he carries on walking in the 'wrong' direction, taking you with him.

"Was just fucking with you," he grins. Nods towards a sign by another basement entrance, listing both Blu-Tae and GLOSS.

By the door, Rae is looking around like a mother duck who's just lost some of her ducklings when crossing the road. Breathes a sigh of relief when she spots you.

"C'mon," she grins, then realises who you're with. Says nothing of it, 'cause she doesn't want to be weird, but she recognises him, too. Decides she's just had a little too much to drink. There's no way it's him. Holds out her hand for you.

Reaching out for her, you're let go from Jungkook's grip, ready to get lost in the lights once more.

HAEJANG24 WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE SATURDAY 05:53

Seoul is a city for the nocturnal. The restaurants and bars are open until the last men are standing. Given how much you've had to drink, you're surprised you still are.

Rae had dipped an hour or so ago. Had hit it off with Mr Blu-Tae himself. Seduced him with the suggestion that their couple name would be Blu-Rae. He'd said they should go to a DVD-bang. Would be fitting. See what Blu-rays were on file.

Naturally, you'd looked on with mild disgust and also admiration for how quickly she'd worked her magic. Everyone knows what goes down in DVD-bangs. Small private rooms, often with projector screens and the world's least comfortable futons, they're somewhere you hope to never end up—but also can't wait to hear all the details the next morning when Rae comes to your room for a debrief.

You'd been left under the surveillance of Jungkook.

"Look after her," Rae had instructed, then narrowed her eyes. "Or I'll destroy your reputation with a single twitter thread, Tokki."

It's a threat he's taken seriously. Knows how the internet works, and even though he's never done anything worthy of a cancellation, he also doesn't intend on starting now. The fact you seem to have no idea who he is during the daylight hours intrigues him. It's a rarity on streets like these.

Even when a few people asked for pictures with him on your walk to the hangover soup place, you didn't clock it as weird. Figured they were friends passing by, wanting to document their chance run-in. Just another memory of the night. The way Jungkook had greeted them was full of warmth, and kindness. Why wouldn't you assume they were mates?

You were also still incredibly drunk at the time, so didn't think to question it. Was keen for food, and Jungkook had insisted on hangover soup, and so that's where you are. Dishes nearly empty, far more of it eaten by him than you, you're laughing about nothing and everything all at once.

"Right," Jungkook declares, deciding he cannot hold in a question that's been tickling at his brain for the entire meal. "What the fuck is that?"

Coat left in the cloakroom, long forgotten about, your tattoos are on full display for him, just like his are for you. Up your arm they trail; a patchwork of teeny tiny identifiers. Latin phrases around skulls, birth flowers of the people you hold close, butterflies and stars. There's an ode to your favourite musician and your favourite Shakespeare quote, too. The fabric of you etched into your skin. There's no reinventing yourself, even half the world away from home.

You know precisely which tattoo Jungkook is asking about. You've asked yourself the same question a few times.

"Fuck off," you laugh.

While most of your tattoos are gorgeous, there's one that was done by a rogue artist on a girlie holiday a few years ago. What was supposed to be a seashell now looks like... well, nothing really. It's just a blob, thanks to the artist being absolutely terrible. The only solace you find in it is that your two best friends have an equally awful permanent reminder of that holiday on their bodies, too.

"It doesn't look how it's supposed to," you explain with a little pout. "I got royally screwed over."

He cocks a brow. You still haven't told him what it is. He isn't gonna ask you twice.

With a grumble, you feebly admit, "A shell."

And then he's laughing. Really laughing. Laughing so hard you think he might piss himself—which you'd actually prefer, because then he could be the embarrassed one, instead.

"I'm calling you Shelly from now on," he says with a broad smile. Has had his fair share of tattoo blunders, and knows you must've developed an affection towards how shitty it is. Would have gotten it covered up, otherwise. "That's incredible."

"You're calling me so such thing," you assure him, but you also can't help but laugh.

"I am," he tells you, then really solidifies it. "Shelly."

"Fuck off," you whine, doubling down. Scanning his arms, you try and pick out anything you can use against him, too. "If I'm Shelly, then you're Mike."

"Mike?!" He protests.

"Yeah," you insist, pointing towards the microphone on his forearm. "Mike."

"You are not calling me Mike. Do I look like a Mike?!"

"Do I look like a Shelly?!"

You've got a point. It's not the name he would have first associated with you - but it is cute, he thinks. Cute how mortified you seem. Cute how you can't help but smile.

After a little bit of back and forth, it's decided that neither of you look like your namesakes.

"Y'know, we kinda have matching tattoos," he says, holding out his arm for you to study. "Or at least, the placements."

And sure enough, below his elbow lives the outline of a bunny sitting on a crescent moon. Holding your own arm out next to his, below your elbow is a butterfly. Above it, is a teeny tiny moon.

Like Jungkook's moon, it's a crescent. Was supposed to symbolise new beginnings. You wonder what his means, but don't ask. Instead, you marvel at the coincidence of it all.

He presses his index finger against the butterfly on the inside of your forearm. The echoing chatter of the restaurant fades softly into nothingness as he says, "Nabi."

You nod. Even if you have spoken with him in English this entire time, it's nice to hear him speak in his mother tongue, no matter how minimal - so you reciprocate. Press your index finger against his bunny. Smile. Say, "Tokki."

It further confirms to Jungkook that you have no idea who he is. Has been a while since he's met a girl in a circumstance like this where that's the case. Likes the anonymity of it all. Is hiding his identity from you, and yet hasn't felt such vulnerability for years.

"Daltokki, right?" You continue, not wanting the silence to linger for too long. "The rabbit in the moon?"

You're not wrong, but you're also not entirely right.

"Yeah," he smiles regardless. "That's it."

JUNGKOOK'S APARTMENT ITAEWON-DONG, YONGSAN-GU SATURDAY 07:12

"Shhh," Jungkook quietly laughs.

His hand is over your mouth and the other is on your hip as he guides you into his apartment. With your back to his chest, you've both been giggling for the entire ride to his place.

He had insisted that he should walk you home, and was surprised by the offense you seemed to have taken by this. You then told him that he absolutely could not seduce you, and that it was very gender-role-conforming for him to think that you were incapable of getting home by yourself.

"Maybe I should be the one to make sure you get home safely," you had said with a false sense of concern, which had made him laugh quite considerably.

In all reality, you didn't mind him offering to get you home. You just hadn't tidied your room. Didn't really expect to be taking a boy back to your place, much less one that looks like him.

Together, you'd caught the early morning bus over to Itaewon instead of a taxi, 'cause you're still on a student budget and Jungkook wasn't quite ready to blow his cover just yet.

You've been teasing him—questioning his status as a potential International Super Spy—ever since he took your hand and guided you into one of the flashiest apartment complexes you've ever been in. There was security. Doormen. A passcode for the elevator—not to mention that he was heading up to the seventh floor once you were in it. Might not sound like much, but when there are only seven floors to the entire building, it makes it the penthouse by default.

"It's not a penthouse," he'd insisted. "Plus, I live with friends. Only pay a third of the rent."

But a third of his rent is more money than you'll probably see in three months of post-grad work. You're drunk, but you're not stupid. You also know that the rental market here differs significantly from your home country. Monthly rent is cheap, but the deposits are extortionate. Sure, he'll get it back when he leaves, but to have the initial money needed for a place like this? He's not a regular student, if one at all, that much is sure.

"Not sure who's home," Jungkook whispers as you both kick your shoes off in the entryway. Given the looks of the other shoes, it's clear that this is a guys-only living situation. You're proven right when he continues, "Betcha Tae's still in that damn DVD-bang, but Yoongi might be back."

"Yoongi?" You question.

"GLOSS," Jungkook says, remembering how oblivious you are to who he is. Reaching down to grab your shoes, he isn't gonna leave them by the door. Will take them to his room. Doesn't want the boys asking questions, if they are in. Knows they'll just use it as an excuse to publicly roast him whenever they're next online together.

Given that a stream is scheduled for Sunday night, he doesn't want to tempt fate.

Their current choice of wind-up, which the viewers have been eating up, is the joke that Jungkook is a virgin. He's not, but he never knows how to defend himself without sounding like a tool, so always gets a little awkward. A lot of their viewers love it. Join in on the joke. Some take it seriously. He doesn't care.

Next month, Taehyung will do something dumb, and he'll become the favourite joke for a while. Maybe Yoongi. But for now, it's Jungkook.

None of them take it to heart. They're just a group of friends who share their gaming hangouts online, and accidentally made it to the top of the ranks.

They aren't particularly good at gaming, but that's part of the charm. Crescent Collective is how they're known: Blu-Tae, GLOSS and Tokki.

After a bet went wrong, and they all lost, they ended up with moon tattoos and their respective 'symbols'. Jungkook's is a rabbit, Tae's is a blu-ray DVD disk (because he really is committed to the bit), and Yoongi's is stars to symbolise the shine of fresh gloss. Jungkook's makes the most sense. Yoongi's is pretty decent. Taehyung's is just... Well, it's very him.

Sliding open the door into the main living area, Jungkook has to cover your mouth again when you gasp at the sheer size of the place.

"I thought butterflies were supposed to be silent?" He teases. "Quiet for me, Nabi."

His place is bigger than your family home, you think. Hushing you again, he's laughing—and then he's cursing at the sight of a half-naked Yoongi by the kitchen counter.

In his boxers, with half a clementine slice hanging from his lips, he's just as shocked to see Jungkook with you. Gets over it pretty quickly.

"Don't mind me," he says, chewing down on the fruit with a smirk. Looks towards you. "Apologies for the lack of clothes."

With your shoes hooked on his fingers, Jungkook's other large hand is still over your mouth. You're not sure you can form any words as it is, but you do notice the crescent moon and stars on Yoongi's ribs.

"Not a word to Tae," is all Jungkook says. Knows that he'll be in for a world of teasing tomorrow if he gets wind of it. "I mean it."

Holding his hands up, Yoongi's still smirking, but he is backing away into a room just off the kitchen. "My lips are sealed."

Watching as he closes the door, you wonder how much truth is in his words. Jungkook knows it's absolute bullshit. Chooses not to dwell on it. Loosens his grip on you and heads towards his own room. Turns back to check you're following him, and can't help but smile when he knows that you are.

Tossing your shoes just inside the door, Jungkook is quick to pick up a pair of jeans he'd left on the floor, before chucking them over his desk chair. He tweaks his bedding. Straightens it out. Looks a little shy as he turns to face you.

"Made it home safe," he says quietly, as you close the door behind you.

You nod. Keep a little distance. Say, "It's dangerous to sleep after drinking. Make sure you build a tower of pillows in the middle of your bed so you don't roll onto your back."

Both of you are far more sober than you were earlier. There's no need to worry about anything like that.

And yet he nods, now. Says, "You're probably right. You can always stay, though. Just to check I don't die in my sleep, or whatever."

"It'd be the responsible thing to do," you nod, wondering if he can tell just how fast your heart is beating. "But I don't have any pyjamas."

Jungkook swallows. The way he looks at you now is entirely different to how he'd looked at you in the club. Back then, he'd been bold. Flirtatious.

Now, he seems vulnerable. Needy.

"I sleep in my underwear," he tells you, unsure if you'll actually be sleeping. While he likes the idea of fucking you, part of him doesn't want to. Fears it'll ruin the magic of the unknown. The way he throbs at the mere thought of it would suggest that his hopes outweigh his fears. "I don't mind, if you don't."

The clothes Jungkook's wearing are baggy. You've seen nothing of his figure.

Reaching for the nape of his neck, he tugs on the fabric of his T-shirt. Pulls it over his head and discards it in one swift movement. The sound of it crumpling on the floor is abrasive in how it makes you feel. Raw. Unrefined. You suppose it's just a natural consequence of seeing the toned muscles of his chest. How his waist defies what you thought was possible for masculine builds, and how broad his chest is. The indent of his collarbones, and the lines of his pelvis that draw your eyes downwards.

A pair of Calvins peek just above the waistband of his jeans, and a silver chain rests around his neck. Light from the city filters in, and LED lights around his impressive computer set-up paint him in a hue of violet.

"No," you manage to reply, which is a miracle, you think. "I don't mind."

And then you reciprocate. Reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, letting the fabric fall to the floor. Seeing him swallow back his nerves, or maybe his desires, makes you feel far bolder than you should.

"It's really uncomfortable to sleep in jeans," you tell him.

He nods. Agrees. Threads the button of his trousers through its loop. Doesn't take them off yet. Waits for you to do the same. Keeps his eyes firmly locked on yours. Doesn't let his gaze wander, no matter how much he has to fight all his instincts not to fully take you in. Is still pretending like he doesn't want you in the most indecent of ways.

The room you're in right now is known worldwide.

People set it as their zoom backgrounds. It's on Pinterest. There are YouTube videos attempting to recreate the set-up. If he were to power up his computer—which, in all fairness, is only on standby—and go live, there'd be a thousand viewers within minutes. Doesn't matter what he plays, or who he's with. He doesn't give it much thought anymore. Is just life.

Sometimes, he regrets not being a faceless streamer, but he also knows that it's part of the appeal. Connection, and the fantasy that comes with this almost dystopian, parasocial idea of it.

After all, the meeting of his eyes with yours across a busy club led you to this point. Human connection in the simplest of ways, that he thinks could culminate in the most complex of ways, too.

"Okay," he says. "So take them off."

"You want me to?" You ask just to tease a little bit, and when a smile flickers onto his seemingly nervous lips, you're glad you did.

"You think we'd be here right now if I didn't?" He says with a tweak of his brows.

"You've got a point."

With that, you push your jeans down and reveal the matching set of black underwear you're in. It's nothing special. In fact, it's not really a set, but it's close enough that it'd fool anyone who didn't know.

Jungkook, in this moment, is indeed a beautiful fool.

There's a lopsided grin on his face as he lets his eyes rake down your body. Is shameless as he indulges in you. Nods, as he bites down on his bottom lip.

"It's cold," you tell him, urging him along a little bit.

"Shit," he says without much thought. "Sorry. Was just... Yeah. Shit."

It's both endearing and wholly confusing how Jungkook flips from confident to cute. A man of duality. It makes you giggle, and then you're the one biting down on your bottom lip. Are both a little bashful. A little shy.

"I'm only here to make sure you don't die in your sleep," you remind him before it goes any further.

Looking at him now, knowing you want him in the worst of ways, it's testing all of your willpower not to just cut to the chase.

Thing is, you liked his company tonight. Want it again. Want to give him a reason to seek you out once more. Want him thinking about you in clubs, and looking for you in crowded bars. Pining. Yearning. Needy.

"It's already gone seven," he tells you, walking towards his bed. Knocks his head to the side. Silently tells you to follow suit. "Will probably only get a couple hours in."

"Better than nothing. Plus, you're actually really irritating," you bullshit as you get into bed with him. Are adamant you won't fuck him, but you do let him pull you in closer.

"Oh, yeah?" He grins.

"Mhmm," you nod, pretending as if you aren't looking at his lips. "You'll be less annoying when you're asleep."

"I'm never gonna sleep again," he assures you. "Will annoy you forever."

"I know where the front door is," you say as you stroke a few of his loose, wavy hairs back behind his ears. They fall freely almost right away, but it just gives you another excuse to play with it "I can just leave. I'm only here to make sure you don't die in your sleep. Pointless if you're awake."

"So I have to be asleep for you to stay?"

"Mhmm," you hum.

He immediately loosens his grip on you and flops into an overdramatic sleeping position. Fake snores. Gets you giggling. Can't hide his smile, either. Laughs through the god-awful noises he's making.

But it is late, and you're both tired. As much as he'd like to stay awake with you, the pull of sleep is just too tempting now that you're beneath his sheets. It's not like he doesn't wanna fuck you. His semi is very much present, but neither of you mention it.

"Y'know what's sad about butterflies?" Jungkook mumbles after the laughter dies down. He carefully begins to trace the lines of your tattoo, eyes entirely focused on the tip of his finger.

You purr a response before you fully vocalise one. "Tell me."

He glances up at you only very momentarily. Looks back down. Is quiet when he says, "How quickly they die. Spend over half their lifespan growing into these beautiful creatures, and then they have, what—A week? Two? Three, tops—and then they're gone. It's like the cherry blossoms in spring. Beautiful, and then—" He clicks his fingers. "—gone."

Stroking back some loose strands of his hair, you wonder if he's thinking about you. About this chance encounter. Beautiful, then gone.

"Just means you have to appreciate them while they're still around," you say softly. "Cherish them, because you know you only have them for a moment."

His gaze lifts to meet yours. The reflection of his LED lights makes it seem like butterflies are floating around in his deep, dark eyes, too.

There are stories he could tell you of ancient folklore; about human souls taking the form of butterflies. Of justice, and peace, and spirits. Of back in time, when tigers still smoked. He could tell you of his favourite butterflies. Of the black butterflies that are as large as his hands in the summer. Of the huge display in a museum downtown that would transfix him as a child.

Instead, he gently presses his lips against the lines of your butterfly tattoo.

The rate at which your heart is beating multiplies. Like a swarm of butterflies chasing through your veins, you've no control over the way you're feeling. He's brought your artwork to life; set the souls inside of your butterfly free, only for it to be apparent that the souls belonged to the both of you, anyway.

You know that this is one of those moments; a butterfly passing on by through your lives. Here, and then gone. Beautiful, but fleeting.

There's a shyness to Jungkook now, as he rolls onto his back. A reluctance to get things wrong. He doesn't look at you, just nibbles on his bottom lip and pretends as if the empty white ceiling ahead of him is the most interesting thing he's seen all night.

It's not.

You are.

You, and those eyes that make him feel like the butterfly on your arm is tickling at his tummy. He finds himself jealous when he faces you again and begins tracing the thin lines of your butterfly once more. Wants to embed himself into you like the ink that's carved out a home in your skin.

"Sorry," he mumbles, seemingly regretful of the tender kiss he'd pressed against your arm just a short moment ago. "Don't know why I did that."

"It's okay," you reply without much thought. Like him, you're letting the way you feel dictate the words you say. Care not for playing coy. "I liked it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Jungkook wants to stop his mouth from letting his desires escape. The issue is, he drank a little too much tonight and his lips are a little too loose. Too bad. Can't help himself from asking, "Can I do it again?"

You're just as bad.

"Yeah," you whisper. "Please."

The way his lashes splay against his cheeks as he presses another kiss to your arm is nothing short of celestial. Like that damn moon on his arm, he's got a beauty about him that's hard to capture in words. Ethereal feels too fantastical, but gorgeous feels too dense. He resides in a realm somewhere between the two. Somewhere you'd like to stay forever.

Forever, sadly, only lasts a few hours. You've brunch plans with new friends you can't bail on yet for fear of running a friendship before it's even begun.

You see yourself out. Jungkook's still asleep. Not quite 10AM, you've a dozen missed calls from Rae, and a cold can of coke waiting for you in your fridge. Funnily enough, though, you don't really feel hungover. Must have gotten it all out of your system the night before.

It's only fitting, when you think about Jungkook on the subway home, and how soberingly drunk the idea of him makes you feel.

YONSEI UNIVERSITY DORMS DAESIN-DONG, SEODAEMUN-GU SUNDAY 21:39

Brunch had, predictably, been a yawn-fest.

The people were perfectly nice, but you spent the entire time thinking about Jungkook; how you'd left him in a pretty slumber, the LEDs behind his computer still glowing, with not even so much as a note to say thank you.

It's not like he had any paper on his desk, and you weren't about to start rummaging around his room. You also didn't want to wake him. Part of it was because you knew you'd be saying goodbye, and the concept of that was one that you didn't like all that much.

And so your subway ride back to your dorm had been spent searching his name. He didn't take long to find.

From the club's Instagram, you found GLOSS and quickly discovered that there was far more to both him and Blu-Tae than just being DJs. Their follower counts were wild. Numbers you know you'll never see on your own account. Verification check marks accented their display names.

Who are you? You'd thought to yourself, incredibly perplexed by it all.

Jungkook was littered all over their pages, and yet it still took a while for you to click through to his account. You're not sure why, but think that perhaps the unknown was a nice place to reside within. Safer.

CR3SC3NT_T0KK1 was his username—and curiously, Tokki was also his display name. Brows furrowed, you'd almost dropped your phone when you saw his follower count. It eclipsed both of his friends.

Filled with gaming set-ups, merch drops, and general life dumps, it was pretty clear that whoever Jungkook had made himself out to be the night before was not who he was in real life.

Equal parts offended and intrigued, you were only more confused when you saw that Rae was already following him—but not following Taehyung.

"What?" she'd beamed when you'd asked her about it after you'd arrived home from brunch, a scoop of hangover ice cream being waved around in the air with her flamboyant gestures. "He's, like, one of the biggest streamers in the country—and if I want to keep Tae obsessed with me, we need as many connections as possible. Jungkook's a frog to me, baby, not a prince. Don't you worry your little cotton socks. I'm not after him."

"I wouldn't care if you were," you'd blatantly lied in response, and then you'd giggled together at how ridiculous you were both being over boys you didn't really know.

Hovering over the bright purple 'JOIN STREAM' button later that evening, part of you holds back. Think it'd be weird. Strange. That he'd somehow know it was you.

Dipping your mouse, you tick the checkbox to join as an anonymous viewer. Take a breath. Think fuck it. Watch with bated breath as the loading wheel turns—and then he's there.

Jeon Jungkook has the kind of beauty that transcends shitty quality streams. Smiling as he jokes with one of his friends through a headset with a pair of black bunny ears affixed to the top of them, you hear a voice you almost recognise. Notice the friend he's streaming with in the top corner. Realise you do know him, too.

Hair as blue as the trees are green, Tae has just as much boyish charm as Jungkook, but also an incredibly large hickey that seems to match the ones on Rae's neck.

"Nah, can we get an L in the chat for Kook," he's teasing. Sure enough, the chat begins to explode with the letter, and Jungkook looks so pretty when he protests.

"It's not an L!"

"It is!" Tae insists. "Should have seen him, guys. Was following this girl around like a lovesick puppy—"

"No, I wasn't!"

"And she didn't even give him her number. Not even her name!"

"That's not true!" Jungkook whines. He switches between Korean and English with ease, sometimes just single words, other times whole sentences. "I have a name."

"What is it?"

"Not telling you."

"Cause you don't have one!"

"No, because you'll all make my life a living hell," Jungkook laughs—and then notices a bright blue comment lighting up in the chat. His eyes widen. "Fuck."

GLOSS: Was calling her Nabi when he got home last night Almost shit his pants when he saw me

"Yoongi, I'm gonna shave your eyebrows off in your sleep," Jungkook growls—only for the chat to start spamming butterfly emojis. Closing his eyes, he leans back in his chair, the still paused video game long forgotten about, now. Thousands of people are in their chat, and even more are watching the stream.

"Guys, get it trending," Taehyung goads. "Tweet, I dunno, bunny and butterfly emojis."

"Don't do that!"

"Hashtag find Jungkook's butterfly."

"Do NOT do that!"

"I'm like a modern-day cupid," Taehyung beams.

"I'm shaving your eyebrows, too."

Closing the stream, you sit for a moment, mouth ajar, unable to process what on earth you've just witnessed. Part of you feels as if it must have an incredibly vivid daydream; a projection of your heart's desire.

And you know you shouldn't, but when you get home from running errands the following day, you join the stream again. Blush when you notice the chat is still teasing Jungkook.

"I'm gonna block you all," he threatens them with a grin, which only encourages them to send even more butterfly emojis.

The next day is no different, nor the day after that.

He is, though. Has been letting it all play on his mind. Doesn't have much of a filter when it comes to streaming.

"What if she didn't even like me, guys," he whines to the chat. "And sees this and is like... mortified. I think I'd punch myself in the face if she ever saw any of this."

You toy with the idea of sending a comment into the chat. Something that only he'd realise was you. Thing is, you feel bad for intruding. As if you shouldn't be prying. As if you're eavesdropping on him chatting with friends, and not on the stream he's broadcasting live around the world.

Typing out a message, you deliberate your choice.

Punch urself in the face pls, tokki x the message reads.

Simple. Effective. To the point.

But everyone calls him that, you stupidly realise, now.

And so you change the name to 'Mike'.

Before you can even really realise what you've done, you've pressed send.

The message flitters into the chat feed. He's about to resume his game. Doesn't notice it at first.

Gives the chat one final glance, and then his eyes widen. He sits up taller. Straighter. "Mike?"

You close the lid of your laptop immediately.

"Fuck."

THE STREETS WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE FRIDAY 23:51

"Tae is on in five," Rae squeals, dragging you down the road at lightning speed.

You'd spent far too long at dinner, and also had far too much to drink with your food, so have been forced to make an undignified sprint to the club in an attempt to make it in before the place reaches capacity.

There's already a queue. You can see it from a mile away.

Realistically, Rae could have gotten Taehyung to add her to the guest list. He'd offered. She didn't wanna look needy, so had played it coy about her plans for the evening.

After a single beer and soju, she'd decided that the idea of him hooking up with anyone but her simply wouldn't do.

"Shit," she sighs in defeat, looking at the queue. The direction you've come from means that you reach the entrance before you reach the queue, but even then, you can tell it goes around the block. "Are there no other clubs these people can go to?!"

There are—but this club is rammed tonight for the same reason Club Sundown was rammed the week before. People want to see the Crescent Collective.

You didn't realise it at the time, but you'd bypassed the queue of the second club last weekend because Jungkook had been with you.

And as if by a stroke of luck, or perhaps a twist of fate, the same tattooed hand that had held you as you slept last weekend is now putting out a cigarette just a few steps away.

Eyes landing on yours, he looks away again, almost immediately. Feels embarrassed. Stupid. For the way you left him, and also for the way he knows you must know who he is, now.

Behind a red rope, he's away from the general crowd. It's sort of obnoxious, you think—but also know Jungkook is anything but.

"They're with me," Jungkook says to the bouncer, not really looking at you, but nodding in your general direction. Is deliberately keeping a little distance. Instead, he says to Rae, "Tae wouldn't want you waiting in line."

Nodding, the security guard makes way for you, stamping the backs of your hands with UV-activated ink as you walk past.

"Thank you!" Rae beams.

"No worries," Jungkook smiles right back. "He's about to start. Was just getting air. You're lucky you arrived when you did."

"Angel," she praises. "I'll get you a drink while we're in there."

You know her well enough now to know that she absolutely will not, but you don't say anything. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest as you walk, suddenly feeling all awkward in Jungkook's presence.

"Nabi," he curtly greets you as you head down the stairs.

"Tokki," you greet him back just as formally. Consider calling him 'Mike' instead, but you chicken out.

Face scrunching up, Jungkook tries his best not to cringe at himself. Doesn't know if you're addressing him by his tattoo moniker, or just calling him Tokki because you know it's his identifier online.

"How have you been?" He asks, not wanting to let it simmer.

"Alright," you say, aware of how awkward this all feels, as you descend the stairs and into the club. The music is getting louder, and soon you won't be able to hear him talk unless you're in each other's ears. "And you?"

"Alright."

Just as quickly as he appeared, Jungkook is lost to the crowd.

He doesn't care to stick around if he's just going to be hung out to dry by you again. He tells himself that he only made sure you got in to keep Rae happy for Taehyung's sake—yet as he rejoins his friends in their booth, he finds himself desperately seeking you out again.

It takes him a while, but he eventually spots you by the bar in conversation with Rae. He can't make out what you're saying, but notices how your eyes are flickering around the room. Seems as if you're hunting for something.

Deep down, even if he pretends like he doesn't, he hopes it's for him.

Pulled away from your search by the bartender passing over drinks to the pair of you, Jungkook feels bad. Knows the drinks are pricey in this place. Also knows, from the conversations you've already had, that you're on a tight budget. Had said that once the semester starts, you'll stop going to parties. Are seemingly unaware of the fact the parties never stop in this city. You'll learn.

When your eyes finally land on his a little while later, you're surprised by his intense gaze—intrigued by his lack of shame for being caught out. He doesn't look away or appear embarrassed. If anything, it's quite the opposite.

Girls are vying for his attention all around him, yet you receive all of it. Half the room away, hundreds of people create a sea between you both. Jungkook thinks he'd swim through it, no matter how choppy the water, if it meant he could have you right now.

You're the one who left, though.

It's up to you to come back.

Part of you doesn't want to, but then you see another girl making advances, and Rae's horror over other girls trying it on with Taehyung seems to have rubbed off on you. The idea of it makes your skin crawl. You're drunk, and a little reactive, but Jungkook likes playing with fire.

As you work your way through the crowd towards him, he tries his best not to grin. Finds himself vindicated in his desire to be close to you, 'cause it seems like you want it, too.

Sliding in between Jungkook and the girl, you turn and apologise.

"Just need to borrow him for a second," you smile, clutching at his shirt and pulling him away from the booth before she even has a chance to protest.

With an ever-so-satisfied smirk, Jungkook shrugs towards the other girl, and lets you drag him wherever you want. He's putty in your hands, a little tipsy and desperately in need of attention from you.

For the past week, he's played scenario over scenario over scenario in his head about this moment, and now that it's happening, he's glad he let you seek him out. Is so pleased that you actively want him just as much as he wants you.

In the middle of the crowd, you're hidden from prying eyes. It's too dark to notice any discerning features of the people around you, yet somehow, Jungkook seems like a vibrant golden light to you. Impossible to miss. Unable to ignore.

You wanna talk. Ask him about who the fuck he is. Explain that you didn't mean to leave so heartlessly.

Taehyung's set is so overwhelmingly loud, though. Can barely even hear yourself think.

As soon as he'd spotted Rae in the crowd, Taehyung had sent the bar coordinator to go and get her. She's sitting pretty up in the DJ booth, incredibly pleased with herself. Notices you and Jungkook almost immediately. Knows it'll be on Twitter in the next few hours, especially if that damn butterfly tattoo of yours is noticed.

Bunnies and butterflies have been trending for days.

Jungkook speaks, but you can't hear him.

"Huh?" You ask, getting on your tippy toes, but it's fruitless. Even as his hand drops to your waist to steady you and keep you in place, you can barely make out his words. "I can't hear you!"

He can't hear jack shit, either. Frowns. Looks around. Spots Yoongi by the booth and gestures towards the side of the room. When Yoongi nods back, it's Jungkook who drags you through the crowd, now. Just beyond the DJ booth is a little black door that Yoongi meets you by. Taps in the code. Nods in your direction.

"A pleasure," he says with a knowing smirk. Miraculously, you can hear him, but ultimately, it's because you're not in the direct line of the speakers now.

You don't get a chance to respond before Jungkook gets you into what can only described as a dark hole as quickly as he can. Romance, you think to yourself, but you also are very aware of the fact Jungkook doesn't let go of your hand, even when he's searching for the light switch. It takes him a second, but he manages to recall the approximate location quickly enough.

Dingy yellow light floods into the room. Small and boxy, it's a 3-in-1 storage room, bathroom, and dressing room for 'talent'. It's why Yoongi had the code, but you can't imagine anyone with any shred of self-respect actually using this place. The walls are the same grey tiles as the floor, and the light bulb hangs from a wire without a shade. The tap on the sink drips, and you're pretty sure there's a leak in the far corner by the mirror.

None of that matters, though. All you can focus on is the man in front of you. Though not soundproof, the room does offer a far more muted version of Taehyung's set. More importantly, it provides you with privacy.

It's been a week since you last saw him, face to face.

Though you have, admittedly, seen him what feels like a million times on low-quality streams from his bedroom.

Realistically, it's been about three times, but you think about it almost constantly.

"You left," is all he says, a little pout on his lips.

It's cute, you think, that he is so outwardly offended by such an act. You would have thought that a man of his position would have a habit of leaving, himself. Then again, you didn't know of his status when you left him in bed that morning.

"And you didn't die," you reply with a teasing smile, trying not to make it sound so severe. "You were fine without me."

"I'm not joking," he says, even if he can't help but smile at the recollection of how stupid the conversation before bed had been. "You left. It was rude."

"I had brunch plans," you tell him, reaching your hands out for his. He wants to resist. Fails. Lets you pull him closer. Incredibly close, in fact. So close that you begin to notice all sorts of things. His freckles. A small scar on his cheek. A tiny fleck of glitter on his skin, no doubt from one of the girls who had been desperate for his attention earlier. "You'd only had a few hours sleep. I didn't want to disturb you."

"Could have left a note," he says, still pouty but far quieter. You can smell the Jack on his breath. Have always hated the taste, but think you could grow to like it. "Your number. Something, at least."

"I could've," you admit, edging even closer. Closing the gap. Nudging your nose against his. But then you smile. Pull back. Tease, "And you could have warned me that I'd become a trending topic on Twitter."

Just like that, Jungkook's pout snaps into the prettiest smile. His face scrunches up, lines creasing on his nose. Beneath his closed eyes reside the sweetest little puffs. He's got the kind of face that is impossible not to like.

"Ah," he cringes.

"Yeah," you laugh at the stupidity of it all. What did he expect? That you wouldn't find out? "Ah."

"In my defence," he holds his hands up, eyes wide and innocent. "You called me Tokki. How was I to know you didn't know?"

"Oh, give over," you laugh, as he reaches for your hands once again. Pulls you closer. "You know I didn't know."

Truthfully, he does know this, but it was nice to be unknown for a little while. Nice to not second guess your intentions. Even now, knowing that you know, he feels like none of it matters.

"Look," he begins, toying with the hem of your cropped shirt. Lets his fingertips graze your bare skin. Tries his best not to think about what you look like half-naked. Fails. "I only came out tonight 'cause I hoped I'd see you. I don't care about staying out till ass-o'clock, again."

"Think I've only just caught up on sleep," you hum, angling your chin up and giving him the perfect opportunity to make a move that goes beyond flirtatious touches.

"Exactly," he smiles, letting his hand squeeze the side of your waist. Pulls you closer. "And I've not drunk half as much tonight, but I think I could do with you making sure I don't die, again."

"Yeah?"

Nodding as he nudges his nose against yours, Jungkook is all smiles. Lets his lips line up against your pout.

"Yeah," he mumbles—then lets the word get lost in your lips.

Sinking into what it feels like to kiss you, Jungkook can't help but feel satisfaction. Has finally caught the damn butterfly he's been after all week.

He's played a lot of games. Won a lot of battles.

And yet victory has never tasted so sweet.

JUNGKOOK'S APARTMENT ITAEWON-DONG, YONGSAN-GU SATURDAY 02:07

You retrace your steps. Get a taxi to his place, 'cause there's no point pretending like he can't afford it. Not anymore.

You're not giggling like you were the first time you were in his elevator, but it's kind of impossible to do so when your back is to the wall and Jungkook's tongue is in your mouth.

Your hands roam his body—waist, ass. If you can squeeze it, you will. Just makes him deepen the kisses. If his large hands weren't cupping your jaw, keeping you close, they'd be doing the exact same thing as yours.

The ding of the elevator pulls you apart just for a second, and then you're the one pulling him down to the corridor to his place.

He doesn't open the door. Just kisses you again.

Finally understands what it means to get butterflies, 'cause he's got you, now, and he never wants to lose it.

Hooking his hands beneath your ass, he hoists you up. Gets your legs wrapped around him. Could go in, but where's the fun in that? There's a slight danger of getting caught. He knows the hallway security cameras will definitely pick this up. The threat that it could get leaked online, and the simple fact that he couldn't give a shit if it does, is kind of hot.

"I'm not fucking you out here," you tell him through a hushed giggle, when he rests his forehead against yours.

"Woah," he jokes. "Who said anything about fucking?"

"I can literally feel your boner, Jungkook."

"Touché."

He doesn't even attempt to downplay it. He puts you down. Gets you through the threshold of his apartment. Shoes off by the door, there's no need to be quiet. Yoongi and Taehyung are still out, and will be for hours. He could take his time if he really wanted.

But what he wants is you. Doesn't waste time. Gets you in his room. Kinda feels like you never left. Jungkook still wishes you hadn't, but doesn't mind the idea of you making it up to him now.

"So," you hum, trailing your fingertips across his desk. "This is where the magic happens?"

He smiles a little bashfully, head dropping for a moment before his eyes are on yours again. "Yeah. You could say that."

Now that you're back in his space, it's a little embarrassing just how many clues there were. A headset rests on the desk—black, robust, with his signature bunny ears secured on top—and a mic is hooked up by the monitor. The webcam doesn't look special, but the keyboard subtly glows in his darkened room. Violet, like the LEDs behind his screen.

A laptop covered in vinyl stickers is closed next to the set-up. He uses it when he's not streaming on his desktop. At least three of the stickers are of the Crescent Collective's logo.

Turning to fully face him, you rest your palms behind yourself and perch on the edge of the desk.

He gets a little kick out of seeing you so flippantly disregard the domain in which he dominates. Gives him a point to prove. Gets him closing the space between you, hands on your waist, dipping to your ass to leverage further back on his desk. Knows it's sturdy, 'cause he built it himself, but has never tested out quite how strong it really is. Thinks now's as good a time as any to find out.

Your legs wrap around his body with no thought, just the innate understanding that you want him in a way you're sure thousands of people have only dreamt of: in his room, on his desk, that damn 'Go Live' button just a few short clicks away.

Reaching beside you, there's a smirk on your lips as you retrieve his headset. Put it on him. Say, "The ears are cute, Tokki."

He rolls his eyes. Is fighting a smile, and currently losing. He's seen some lewd shit during his time on the internet and is well aware of the fanart that includes the ears and little else. Always found it kinda funny, before.

Now? He's so hard it almost hurts, and he thinks he could grow to like it.

As your arms drape over his shoulders, he takes them off. Puts them on you, instead. Adjusts the sizing. Gets them just right for you. Is attentive, like that. Pulls his head back a little, and then realises what a problem you're gonna be for him.

It's not so much the addition of animal ears that's getting him insatiable, but seeing you adorned with a crown that is so inherently his that does it.

Jungkook's no saint. He's had his fair share of one-nighters. A couple hours of fun never to be spoken of again. Since the group of them signed to their management agency, they've been repeatedly told how important it is to get NDA's signed. Something about it always feels so icky to Jungkook. Cruel, almost. Has only had a couple hook-ups since then, both with flings he's known for a good couple of years, with no fear of them spilling the beans on how prettily he whines when he cums.

You're the first new girl in a long time. He knows he should really pause things before you cut to the chase—but then your hand is trailing down his thick forearm, delicately stroking his rabbit moon with a curious smile. Decides he doesn't care.

"The ears are cute," he replies. Teasingly adds, "Nabi."

The position of your arms over his shoulders ensures the tattoos he'd traced the week before are fully displayed for him. As his eyes drop to your butterfly, you're curiously smitten by the way his lips move to press a kiss against it again.

"Suit me?"

"Mhmm," he hums, eyes flickering back up to yours. "Should also get you a pair of butterfly wings, or something."

"I'd make you wear them," you tell him with a cheeky glint in your eye. "Turn you into a butterfly, yourself. Your girlies in the chat would love that."

Jungkook knows without a shadow of a doubt he'd let you. Not for the girlies in the chat, but for you.

Ghosting his lips against yours, he's waiting for you to press down. Is letting you take the lead.

Your kisses are sweet. Tepid. Reserved.

You're feeling; his hands on your waist, the pressure of his lip rings, the presence of his nose.

And then he's feeling; your bare skin as his large hands slip beneath the fabric of your shirt, the way your legs wrap around him, the vibration of a small groan against his lips.

The skirt you're in is bunched around your hips, and the positioning is just right for you to feel how hard he is against your underwear. It's a little undignified, you'll admit, but you're impatient, so you take control. Reposition his hand between your legs. Encourage him to take things further.

"Yeah?" He checks.

Nodding into a needy kiss, you mumble, "Please."

It might've been a while, but Jungkook's muscle memory is enviable. He's the best player on the team for that very reason.

As he hooks your underwear to the side, he's pleased to be greeted with indications of your arousal. Smirks into the kisses he's giving you, as his fingertips graze against your clit. Trails his lips to your neck. Wants to hear the way you gasp as he pushes his thick middle finger inside you.

"Fuck," you sigh at the welcome intrusion. Nod, as he curls his finger almost immediately. He's got a lot to thank those damn video games for, that's for sure.

Softly moaning, just how he hoped you would, there's an arch to your back as he picks up a pace. The need to perform, almost.

Head tipping back as Jungkook fucks another finger into you, you're unable to think too cognitively. Can only think about the way he feels. The smell of his hair as he presses kisses against your neck, and how prominent his collarbones are as your nails trail up his toned torso.

"Feels so good," you tell him. Move the hand of yours that's been resting on his shoulder to his hair. Tug on it a little. Elicit the prettiest of whines from him.

There's something to be said for making a man—especially one of such strength, stature, status—so weak. Gets you all giggly. Jungkook can feel the satisfaction ripple through your entire body, and it just makes him groan against your neck even more.

"You're so wet," he praises, pulling back to study your face as he plays with you. Lets his thumb stroke up against your clit ever so gently. Revels in the way you get a little shaky. Twitchy. With those damn bunny ears, you really are like a little rabbit. Jungkook finally understands why the fan artists choose to draw him in such a way. It is hot. "You're making me so fuckin' hard."

And then you're giggling again.

"Is it a joke to you, huh?" He smirks. Looks down at your pussy, all swollen and sopping wet for him, in the hazy violet light of his room. Knows that his throbbing cock is gonna stuff you so fuckin' full that laughing won't be an option. Is desperate for it. "How badly I want you is just a big joke to you, huh, bunny?"

The way he groups you in with his moniker is too damn hot.

"Dunno," you rasp, desperately trying to hold off the orgasm that's building inside you. "Fuck me and find out."

Reaching for the button of his trousers, you're quick as you wrestle his jeans down over his ass. Don't bother pushing them down entirely. Just enough to get his boxers exposed, and in turn, his thick cock. Hard and engorged, his desperation for you is evident. A small patch of precum seeps through the fabric of his boxers. He curses as your thumb strokes against it.

"Condom?" You ask, knowing you've got none on you.

"Hold that thought," he says, regretfully pulling away from you.

Watching on as he pushes down his jeans, and strips himself of his shirt, you're at a loss for words. You've seen him like this before, but it's so much hotter knowing that he's gonna be fucking himself into you as soon as he possibly can.

Jungkook could very easily lead you to his bed. Get you comfy. Reach to his bedside cabinet for a condom. Fuck you how he likes—doggy-style, minimal face-to-face contact—and be done with it all very quickly.

Instead, he says, "Stay here."

Doing as you're told, you watch on as he walks to the cabinet, and retrieves a condom. Admire his back, and his broad shoulders. The valley of his spine, and the hard work he's put into crafting his physique. Smirk to yourself as he dips into his boxers. Strokes himself. Once, twice. Tears the packet open with his teeth, just like you were always taught not to do, and rolls the latex down his thick shaft.

"What?" he smirks as he walks back, realising your eyes are transfixed on his cock.

You say nothing. Smile. Hold your hands out for Jungkook to take, just so you can pull him back even quicker.

Lips pressing into yours as he closes the gap, Jungkook is all smiles. Rubs the head of his cock against your pussy, gathering up your arousal all over his tip. Lines himself up with your entrance. Waits for you to give him the go-ahead.

Hand on his ass, you pull him closer. Edge the crown of his cock into you. Whimper. Beg. "Please."

Sinking into you with a laboured grunt, he's surprised with how much tighter you are around his cock than you were with his fingers. Wet and warm, there's an undeniable pleasure that sparks through his body as he gets familiar with the way you feel.

Slowly, his hips begin to pick up a pace. As his tongue strokes into your mouth, there's no dignity to the way he's taking you. The increased pace means heightened moans, and it's not just you—it's him, too.

"Shit, yeah," he grits. "So fuckin' tight, aren't you?"

Whining, you nod into his kisses. Are at his entire disposal as he grips your waist, proving exactly why Tokki is the perfect nickname for him.

As much as he likes the ears, he's a little worried that he might fuck you so hard they fall off. Doesn't wanna break them, and definitely doesn't wanna think about the story the boys would make up when they go live tomorrow to tease him—but also really wants to fuck you harder.

Which is funny, cause the way he tugs them off with such desperation and tosses them down, you'd be forgiven for thinking he couldn't care less about breaking them. Doesn't give you a chance to say anything, 'cause his big hands are cradling your face, bringing you in for desperate kisses once more.

There's a lewdness to the sounds you make together, but Jungkook knows that if he was an entirely different kind of streamer, you'd make bank together. Wonders about the way it would look on camera. Worries. Pauses.

"You good?" You check a little breathlessly as he reaches behind you, just to tug the wire to his webcam from the plus.

"Yeah," he nods, still fiddling around behind you. Smiles in the hedonistic haze as your lips find a new home on his neck. Strokes your hair gently, and presses a kiss to the side of your head. Quietly says, "Just making sure there's no way in hell I accidentally start streaming."

You hum, all purry and pliant. "People would pay good money to see it."

While he agrees, and has had the same thought process, he doesn't care. "You saying I should be charging you for this?"

"Oh, no," you say all very sweetly. "You should be paying me."

"I'll pay you with orgasms," he promises, knowing that it's a rare currency for one-night strands.

You smirk. Pat the top of his head. "Sure you will."

If there's one thing Jungkook loves, it's a challenge.

Pulling back, he turns you around. Gets you bent over his desk with zero opposition from you. Rubs himself against your soaked cunt, then asks, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you smirk, and then settle into a sigh as he pushes into you. The feeling of fullness from Jungkook is one that's hard to compare. So thick, and fat, and heavy, his cock really is just as impressive as he is.

With one hand hooked at the crease of your thigh, the other holds the top of your shoulder. Gets you pushed down onto his cock as far as you possibly can be. There's a slight reflection in his streaming plaque beside the monitor, and you're pleased to see just how intensely focused he is on you, brows furrowed, pretty pink lips resting ajar. The silver of his lip rings and chain catch in the light, and you find you can't look at him for too long. He's too hot.

But then he's reaching down for your clit as he fucks into you. Has your legs shaking. The waves of a familiar sensation begin to lap against the shores of your pleasure.

"Fuck," you whine. "Feels good. Keep it like that."

Jungkook knows better than to ignore your requests. Does as he's told, the pressure of his fingers on your clit only deepening. Rubbing calculated circles against you, he knows just how to work you up. Gets you whining. Mewling. Moaning.

"Gonna cum, aren't you?" he smirks, as his own high builds.

"Fuck—"

"C'mon," he husks, feeling your walls tighten around him. He doesn't stop his relentless chase. Will win your orgasms fair and square. Continues pounding into you. Pace fast, strokes deep, he's everything you could ever want and more—and then he's slowing. Keeping you plugged, nice and deep, but focusing on the way he's toying with your clit. "You know you wanna cream for me. All over my cock, pretty Nabi. C'mon—"

"I'm close," you all but whimper. "So—fuck. So close."

"Yeah, you are," he tells you—and then your legs are shaking, pussy tightly clamping around his cock, one hand tense against his desk while the other grabs at his wrist. Uncontrollable, is the way you whine for him. It's so needy—so desperate and pathetic—that it's almost a sob. Jungkook doesn't ease up. In fact, his hips gain a little pace again as your orgasm shatters around you both. He's breathless, but manages to choke out, "Flithy fuckin' cunt. Feels so fuckin' good. Fuck."

The frail limpness of your body as the orgasm smokes away is cute. Jungkook loves it. You're so weak for him. He fucks into you still, chasing his own high, and your whines only get louder. It's overwhelming, but you never want to lose the feeling.

It doesn't take much. Just a minute or so of your tight cunt, and Jungkook is pulling out. Even though he doesn't ask you to, you get to your knees as he tears the condom off.

"In my mouth," you beg, and who is he to reject such an offer?

Jerking himself to completion, Jungkook is all pretty and pathetic when he cums, too. Looks at you with eyes so starry you'd been forgiven for thinking he was a descendant of the constellations.

He milks the final few spurts of himself onto your wet tongue, and curses when you press dainty kisses to his tip. Stroking your tongue against him, you don't want to waste a drop. Look up at him and find that his eyes are resting shut from the pleasure of it all.

Silence surrounds you both, just your beating hearts and laboured breaths filling to the room. He helps you up. Holds you tight. Hugs you for a little while, then presses a kiss to the side of your head. "Thanks."

"My pleasure," you giggle - and then he's smiling, too. Feels vindicated by his irrational thoughts about you over the last few days. He pays no mind to the fact you're still technically dressed, and he's basically naked.

As he sorts himself out, you perch back up on his desk and languidly swing your legs. Enjoy the thought of memories plaguing him whenever he tried to play his little games over the next few days.

"You wanna grab a shower?" he offers. "Food, too? Dunno about you, but I'm fuckin' starving."

"Same," you nod, biting down on your bottom lip. "I'll go wash up, you sort food? Are places still open for delivery?"

Checking his phone for the time, Jungkook is surprised that it's closer to midnight than it is to his morning alarm. Only a handful of places will offer delivery at this time, but that's enough.

"Works for me," he says with a yawn, then opens what you had assumed was the closet door. Reveals an en-suite and knocks his head to the side. "Get your shower. Gimmie a shout if you need anything."

Tiles large and grey, it's the perfect counterpart to his bedroom. A little dark, but it's only because Jungkook hates using the big light. Always flicks the small light switches instead. There's a window overlooking the city, and even though you're only seven floors up, the hills of Yongsan-gu mean that he's got a view you could only dream of.

You're about to start the shower up when he calls through. "Is pizza good?"

"Pizza's good," you call back with a smile. Look yourself in the mirror and wonder how the fuck you ended up in the bathroom of arguably the most famous person you've ever met. Decide it's better not to question it.

The shower begins to cascade down, even if your sins are washed way, you know you won't be able to forget the feeling of Jungkook so easily.

Truth be told, you won't even try.

YONSEI UNIVERSITY DORMS DAESIN-DONG, SEODAEMUN-GU SUNDAY 21:13

"L in the chat," booms the voice of Taehyung through your laptop speakers. His trademark grin rests on his face as he teases Jungkook.

You've only just opened the stream. Instantly, you focus on the prettily lopsided smirk of Jungkook's lips. You've learned it's an almost permanent fixture on his boyish face. Shaking his head, he's adjusting his headset. Making it a little looser so that it'll fit him properly.

No one is questioning it.

What they are questioning, is where the fuck that pretty purple bruise on his neck has come from.

"Cross-fit," Jungkook just shrugs, knowing that it's the colloquial term for suspicious bruises after some idol used the same excuse. Blatant horseshit. Jungkook doesn't care.

"I've never done cross-fit, but I know you're bullshitting," Taehyung snorts.

The chat seems to agree with him.

"Thought I was a virgin?" Jungkook states a little cheekily, making reference to Taehyung's usual banter. "How else would I get one?"

Taehyung knows better than the retort. Knows that Jungkook could very easily slip something about Rae into the conversation.

Virgin? You type through a message on a private discord chat with Jungkook. He'd set it up the day before. Has already sent you, like, a thousand messages. Is what can only be described as obsessed—but it's mutual. Could have fooled me.

As his eyes glance down to his laptop screen, he fails to hide his smile. Had opened your chat on there, cause he didn't wanna accidentally broadcast the messages onto his stream. Despite this, he doesn't care that there are nearly 10,000 people in his stream merely minutes into it. Is far more interested in his chat thread with you. Replies immediately.

Stop distracting meI'm working</3

Giggling as the message pings through to you, there's a giddy quality to the way Jungkook makes you feel.

He'd spent the day in bed with you after your night together. Had wanted you to stay when he started streaming that evening. Said he'd only be an hour or so, and was incredibly pouty when you did leave.

It had just been him on last night's stream—headset off 'cause he didn't wanna adjust it back yet, hoodie on to hide his neck. The other boys were nursing hangovers, so he could do what he liked.

What he did do had you incredibly curious. Was just chatting. Talking to the comment section. Sleepily reeling off facts he'd recently learned about butterflies. Debating over their lifespan.

You're not naive to the fact that Jungkook does this streaming stuff as a profession, and are aware that the more people talking about his stream on other platforms, the more viewers he'll get.

Made sense for him to add fuel to the butterfly-related fire by talking about them.

Had sent you a message earlier that evening to ask what kind of butterfly you had on your skin.

A Monarch, you'd told him.

"See, the thing is," Jungkook had rambled to his viewers a little later on. "Most butterflies have super short lifespans—Monarch's included."

Eyes all starry, lights in his bedroom purple as per usual, he'd looked cosy. You wished you'd have stayed.

"But there's a specific kind. Migrating Monarchs. They're the last of their generation—the final butterflies of the year," he marvelled at the magic of it all.

His facts were a little hazy, but he knew enough. Had been down a you-shaped rabbit hole all afternoon.

"And they migrate, right? Move away from home—somewhere warmer—and then it just extends their lifespan. 180 days. Not 30. That's six months. Six months. It's a long time. It's not fleeting. Not in the slightest."

It's also, curiously, exactly how long you're scheduled to stay in Korea for.

"I dunno," Jungkook had just sighed, a little forlorn, trying to make sense of his thoughts.

He bit down on his bottom lip, stroking his thumb against the hard plastic ears of his headset, then focused on the camera again. Wondered if you were watching.

He simply shrugged. Said, "Counts for something, though, right?"

#byholly #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bangtan fic #jungkook fluff #streamer!jungkook #non idol au #bts fanfic #bangtan ff #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader

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euphoricfilter · 6 months

Text

standing next to you:

pairing: dancer! jungkook x f. reader

genre: fluff || smut || non-idol au || strangers to somewhat lovers

summary: with all those eyes on him, he only had eyes for you

word count: 4k

tags/ warnings: infidelity (womp womp), m/c has a crusty rich old bitch of a husband, smut in the forms of: dom! jungkook, who is a little condescending (because we all know i like that), subby! reader, semi-public sex?, oral (fem. receiving), unprotected sex, the pull out method (womp womp), multiple orgasms, cum marking? jungkook has a dick piercing!!!! lets goooo!!!!

notes: yippee jungkook gave me another smut idea. kinda half edited so if there’s mistakes then no there isn’t <\3

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

It couldn’t have been more than half a second, Jungkook’s eyes catching yours for the briefest moment as the spotlights dance over the crowd, what could have been mistaken for the galaxy reflected in your irises as you look at him.

The eyes that told a story of worship, how his mere existence was a crazed phenomenon your brain was barely able to process as you follow his body across the stage.

For months now, he would catch glimpses of you, always sat at the same table with the same people. Never once talking to them as your focus lays solely on him as he dances on stage.

Your face is soon veiled by one of his back-up dancers, flicker of a moment gone. Whatever was there, a short spark of interest simmering out as your face is no longer in his line of sight. Buzz of something a little more snapped, dissolving into fine dust under the orange hue of the light.

There was such innocent wonder in your eyes as your gaze flickers across the stage, entirely enamoured by what lay before you. The theatre nothing like you had ever seen before, ever so extravagant, and elegant. Male dancers dominating the stage, flowing as if they were dancing on ice, so free-spirited in the ways their bodies move.

Constant stimuli of such an event scratching the back of your mind—the way Jungkook moves enough for you to drown out the rest of the chatter behind you, your existence nothing to any of these people.

Your heart hammers in time with the base that tickles the bottom of your feet, broaches on the dancers’ jackets star-like as the spotlight finds its place back on stage, Jungkook’s face soon illuminated again. Face sculpted, a gift from the high heavens, a man that captures the hearts of many, man and woman alike.

He wonders if your eyes remain on him, bright with wonder as he glides across the stage, trying his hardest to find your eyes behind the harsh glare of the lights, sat ever so pretty, the prettiest little thing he’d ever seen.

It’s only when the lights dim does he see the hand on your thigh, silver band of a wedding ring sat one of the fingers.

Though you don’t seem to notice, entirely focused on the stage you don’t seem to realise when your husband squeezes your thigh, entirely unaware when he pushes his chair back to stand up. Ignorant to the fact that he saunters over to another woman a couple of tables behind where you’re sat.

Left alone in the company of your husband’s friends, who have no means to talk to you, nor acknowledge your existence. Because who would talk to the wife of the man who clearly has no care for what should be his lover? And as much as you pretend to not notice, never once asking why he gets home so late, or the messages that flash across the screen of his phone, never once have you brought it up.

Because that wasn’t your job. You weren’t there to care, to worry about who got your husband’s dick wet or who was stuffed full of his cum, who had it dripping down their legs when he re-emerges after you hadn’t seen him for what felt like hours. You were there to look pretty, and to smile at any man that gives you attention, nothing more and nothing less.

Jungkook thinks you must be the first to stand on your feet once the performance is over, eager in your applause. Too shy to meet his eyes from where he looks down at you from the stage, but not enough to not show your appreciation for his art. Glittery shimmer of the dim light illuminating you, stood centre of the room, awe reflected from your face as you quickly glance up to look at him before the curtain lowers.

So many minutes of your life stolen by him, perfect in the way his body moved, moments you never wish you get back because you wished to watch him dance forever.

Your eyes flit down to the sliver of stomach that peeks from beneath his blazer when he raises his arms at the applause.

You swallow at the deep rumble of his voice as he thanks the crowd, turning to thank the back-up dancers too before he’s facing you again, hint of a smile on his face as he takes one final bow. The curtains falling from the ceiling, your hair tickling your neck at the short gust of wind it produces.

It takes a moment for you to gather yourself, mind reeling as you glance around the room. Entirely isolated, even with hundreds of people surrounding you.

You can’t see where your husband had wandered off to, swallowing down any apprehension you have as you sit back down, fingers gentle as they pick up the flute of champagne—too expensive for your tastes, and you hate to think just how much it costs. Much rather having the host spend that sort of money on the reason for this evening than wowing guests with expensive alcohol and high-end food. Because surely the fund raiser would fare better with all that money than the pompous assholes that laughed in the face of the less fortunate.

You almost jump out of your seat when a heavy hand lands on your shoulder, eyes wide as your tilt your head upwards to see who it could be. Heart hammering when your eyes meet Jungkook’s, flickering across his face.

You swallow, “Hi” you breathe, turning your body to face him a little better.

The corners of Jungkook’s lips curl up into a smile, piercings catching the light, “What’s a pretty girl doing sitting alone?”

He pulls out an empty chair beside you, your head flickering across all the empty chairs around the table, wondering where all your husband’s friends had gone.

“Oh just…” you start, turning back to look at him, words dissolving on your tongue when your eyes meet his.

He raises an eyebrow, leaning back in the chair a little, legs spread wide. His eyes flicker down to the ring on your finger.

“I thought your performance earlier was amazing” you rush, hands running over your silk dress. Perfect change of conversation.

Jungkook leans a little closer to you, reaching across the table a little to grab your glass of champagne. Your eyes stay trained on his lips as they wrap around the rim of the glass, breath catching in the back of your throat as he downs the rest of your drink.

“I don’t think I ever caught your name?” he urges, eyes sharp as they flicker across your face.

“Y/n” you breathe, “and you are…”

“Jungkook” he holds out his hand for you to shake. You take it, toes curling, imaginary electric current slipping down your body at his gentle touch.

“I could show you backstage if you like?” he offers, hands smothering down the imaginary creases in his suit, nodding towards the stage, “It’s pretty nice back there”

You glance over your shoulder, eyes scanning the room for a moment before you’re looking back at Jungkook nodding, “I would like that” you murmur, taking his hand when he offers it to you. He tugs you a little closer to his side once you’ve stood up, linking your arm with his as he walks the both of you around the maze of tables.

Not once does it cross your mind that all the people in the room can see you clinging onto another man, eyes glued to the side of his face as you paint a picture of him in your mind. After so many months of watching him perform on stage, a perfect entity so far out of reach, he was not stood beside you. Warm flesh radiating underneath his suit jacket, scar on his cheek deepened from the overhead lights, calloused hand holding yours.

Someone that had felt entirely unhuman, so long of yearning, but there he was, touching you like it were nothing and he weren’t one of your dreams. Silly little fantasies of a man that should never be yours, dreams of what days would be like with someone like Jungkook. Dreams that should have never been yours to begin with, not while the slippery claws of the law tie you to another man.

Jungkook, ever the gentleman, helps you up the stairs backstage. Narrow hallway entirely empty as he flicks the light on, “It’s truly wonderful back here” he tells you, not letting go of your hand once.

You look around in awe, head turning to look over the outfits hung on clothes racks as you walk by.

“We can order food in my dressing room? I assume you haven’t eaten yet and I don’t think they plan to bring dinner out for a while longer” he tells you, pulling a set of keys out the front pocket of his jacket, opening the door with ease.

“I am a little hungry” you hum, stepping into the dressing room, sitting on one of the couches when he motions for you to make yourself comfortable.

Your eyes flicker towards the door when he locks it, apprehension clawing its way up your body.

“Jungkook…?” you ask, gaze never leaving the lock, even as he slinks towards you, long steps across the room having him in front of you in no time.

“You’re tense” he sits beside you, hand running down the length of your arm, “Let me fix that”

You don’t miss the dark haze in his eyes, cunt clenching at the mere thought of a man of his calibre wanting you in any sort of way.

You swallow, eyes glancing down at his lips then back up to his eyes, “We can’t” you whisper.

“Why’s that?” he murmurs, fingers training over your thighs, silk dress soft under his fingertips.

“Because…” you start, swallowing down a whimper when his fingers graze your warm skin.

“Because” he urges, teasing as he inches his fingers that little big higher.

“Because my—” you swallow, Jungkook’s scoff cutting you off.

“Because of your incompetent husband?”

You tongue wets your bottom lip, fingers clenching by your side, “Yes” your voice breathless.

“Leave him” Jungkook groans, hand tugging yours closer to him, slipping the wedding ring off your finger.

You watch as he holds it, prickle of guilt building within your chest at the fact you don’t feel bad in the slightest for what you want from Jungkook, nor the fact he holds a symbol of love and you can only wish for him to take it forever, no longer yours. No longer a burden you wish to carry.

He slips it into the pocket of his jacket, leaning forward enough for the tip of his nose to kiss yours, short huff of a breath slipping past his lips. He tilts his head a little, gentle hesitation tugging at his body; leeway for you to pull away and stop this whenever you want.

You let out a shaky breath, fingers curling into the collar of his jacket, tugging him towards you. A groan catches in the back of his throat when your lips collide with his, desperate need radiating from every pore of your electrified body—tongue prodding at his bottom lip.

“My darling” he breathes in the brief moment you part, though he wastes no time tilting your head backwards that little bit as he kisses you again.

You hum against his lips, eyes slipping shut as his hands wander the length of your body, thumbs digging into your hips, down the length of your thighs until he’s tugging at the hem of your dress.

Your pussy clenches as his fingers inch that little bit higher, moan caught by Jungkook as he ghosts over tender skin, pulling the fabric higher and higher until he’s brushing his knuckles over your panties. Damp beneath his fingers as he presses through your covered folds, your hips bucking upwards when he nudges your clit.

A breathy laugh is pulled from him as you rock forward a little, chasing the pleasure as he presses his thumb a little harder against your clit.

“Pretty girl” he murmurs, hand slipping from between your legs to tug at your dress, pulling it up and over your head.

Your arms fold over your bare chest, Jungkook’s tongue wetting his bottom lip as his eyes rake down the length of your body, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs.

“How beautiful” he says, bending down a little to press a gentle kiss over your collar bone. His hands leaving your thighs to tug your arms away from your chest, guttural groan vibrating from his chest.

You let out something similar to a squeak when he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, goosebumps prickling up the skin of your arms at the flash of pleasure that shoots down your spine as his teeth graze over the sensitive skin.

Slick leaks into your panties as your hand grazes over the evident erection that strains behind the expensive fabric of his pant, cock twitching beneath the tips of your fingers as you squeeze his length.

“Want you” he ruts his hip upwards into your hand, tongue flat over your tits before he sucks at your warm skin, red blossoming with every mean little nip of his teeth. Claim of your body as his, evidence of his lust and your leaking pleasure that pools between your legs.

“You have me” you breathe, fiddling with the button of his dress pants, stumbling over yourself a little as he helps you lay back on the couch. He tugs your panties down your thighs, bottom lip tucking between his teeth as he watches the string of arousal that connects the cotton to your sodden pussy, all puffy and pretty. Clit erect and desperate, moan slipping off your lips when he leans down to press a kiss to the swollen little nub, pocketing your panties in his jacket.

“Jungkook” you moan, fingers digging into his hair, pulling him further into your pussy, hips rolling up into his face as he lays his tongue flat for you to ride.

He tugs down his pants and underwear just under his straining cock as you use him to get yourself off, shameless in your own pleasure as he moans into your pussy—incoherent whisper of how good you taste drowned out by the slick sound of your folds parting, fingers prodding at your entrance before sinking between your walls.

You clench around the intrusion, fingers tightening their hold on Jungkook’s hair as you moan out his name, mind nothing but lust filled mush, pleasure coursing through every inch of your body as he sucks on your clit.

“Gonna cum” you moan, fingers tugging at your nipples. Hiccup of his name catching in your throat at a particularly hard suck, thick fingers curling right over your sweet spot.

He presses a second finger into your, incessant nudge against your insides sending you reeling over the edge. A cry falling from your lips as you reach your peak, hips still rutting up into Jungkook’s mouth as you ride your high.

“Good girl” he murmurs against your pussy, fingers slipping out of you so he can drink down your release. Tip of his tongue pressing past your entrance to take whatever your body has to give him, cum coated fingers pressing slightly over your still buzzing clit, fiery pleasure thrumming beneath your skin.

“S’ too much” you whine, pushing his head from between your legs, sheen of your arousal coating his mouth and chin shiny.

Your eyes flicker down when something shiny catches the light, and they widen slightly when you see his hand wrapped around his thick cock, thumb running over the king’s crown piercing.

“Oh” you murmur, pussy clenching at the prospect of him being inside of you.

Jungkook hums, fingers squeezing tighter around his length, “You like it, baby?”

You swallow, tongue running over your bottom lip.

You nod, legs falling open a little wider for him, “Want it” you mumble, fingers parting your folds, silent invitation for him to split you open, fuck and fill you until you’re nothing than a pile of pleasure.

“Yeah?” his lips curl at the corners, hint of a smile showing.

“Mhmm” you nod, and his eyes catch sight of your cunt clenching.

“What do we say when we want something, baby?” he urges, scooting between your legs, pressing his cockhead through your folds, watching your hips jolt at the gentle stimulation to your clit.

You arch your back, dribble of slick caught by the tip of his cock as he slicks his length up with your arousal.

“Please, Jungkook” you breathe, “Please I need you”

“So good for me” he groans, thumb pressing just under his piercing, pressing his cock into you.

Your mouth falls open into a silent moan, ache throbbing down your length as his cock splits you open.

“Good girl” he murmurs, stomach tensing when you clench around his cock, piercing dragging deliciously against your walls.

“So good” you moan, hands finding his hips to pull him further inside of you, desperate for every agonising inch he had.

He holds himself inside of you, pelvis flushed with the backs of your thighs as he helps you rest your legs around his waist.

“Yeah, you feel good, baby?” he leans down, lips pressing against your jaw, fingers sinking into the flesh of your hips, gently rutting his cock into you, “Better than your husband could ever make you feel, yeah?”

He lets out a breathy laugh when he feels you clench around his girth, thighs twitching at his words.

“Come on baby, tell me how much better I make you feel” he taunts, dragging an inch of his cock out of you, distressed whine tumbling past your lips as your pussy clenches, trying to pull his cock back into you.

“Tell me” one of his hands takes hold of your jaw, tugging your face so your eyes meet his, “Tell me”

“You make me feel better than he does” you mumble.

“Louder” he shakes your head a little.

“You make me feel better” you say a little louder, chest tightening.

“Than who?” he urges, thumb running over your bottom lip, pressing into your mouth and over your tongue.

“My husband” you slur, mouth tugged open by his thumb.

“And who do you belong to?”

You blink up at Jungkook, drool gathering in the corners of your lips, such a pretty little thing. Ever so messy and desperate, awfully cute if you asked Jungkook.

“Who?”

You swallow, pussy clenching, “You”

“Mmhmm” he hums, “that’s right, all mine”

You rut your hips upwards, clit dragging against his stomach, thrum of pleasure making your toes curl, eyes still trained on Jungkook as you try and get yourself off.

He tugs at the corner of your mouth, thumb pressing into your cheek, watching as the skin bulges. And he wonders briefly what you’d look like with his cock stuffed in your mouth, pretty eyes blinking up at him like they did when he performed on stage; like he held all the secrets to the world in the palms of his hands. Those same hands that would smother your body with his love, dimpling pretty skin and pulling you back onto his cock.

“Jungkook” you whine, hips rutting a little more desperately, so needy for a second orgasm.

“A needy little thing, that’s what you are” his lips curl into a smile, thumb falling from your mouth as his hips pull backwards, your thighs quivering at the drag of his piercing inside of you.

He pulls out until the tip, hands tugging your thighs open a little wider before he’s snapping back into you, relentless as he picks up his pace. He holds you by the backs of your knees, angling your body that little bit off the couch, cockhead pressing against your sweet spot with every rough jab back into you.

“Shit, that’s good” he groans, wet smack back into you echoing off the walls of the dressing room.

You moan a staccato of his name, nothing but how good his cock fills you up in your mind, so entirely full of Jungkook in every respect of the word.

He doesn’t slow down, rhythmic with every thrust back into you, pussy clenching as your fingers slide down the length of your body, pressing over your sensitive clit.

“I’m close” you moan, free hand dragging down the length of his arm, grabbing at the fabric of his suit as your back arches.

“Come for me, baby” he groans, “Make a mess of my cock”

Your hand slips from his arm, grabbing hold of your chest as you continue to flick your clit, moan catching in the back of your throat as you slip head first into your orgasm.

Jungkook watches your face contour in pleasure, snapping his cock into you sloppy. He twitches between your walls, fingers digging into you a little harder, staving off his orgasm for as long as he can while you ride out your high, mind so far gone, eyes glazed over as you look up at him.

“That’s it, baby” his voice is gruff, pressing his cock against your sweet spot, your hips jolting, pleasure slipping into odd tingly overstimulation as he ruts into you, your fingers still pressing over your clit.

Jungkook moans, cock slipping out of you, his hand quick to wrap around his length. Slick noise reverberating in your ears as he brings himself over the edge, angling his cock so his cum paints your stomach. Thick string of white coating your skin, spurts of it shooting out of his cock. His stomach tenses, eyes slipping shut as he squeezes his cockhead, final spurt of his seed slipping just over your clit, joining the wet mess of your cunt as it slips down your folds.

“That’s a good girl” he groans, letting go of his softening cock.

He looks at you down the length of his nose, watching as you smear his cum over your skin, absolutely fascinated as it clings to your fingers.

His cock stirs in interest when you dip your fingers into your mouth, tongue licking up his release.

“You little minx” he laughs, bringing your legs back down, bending to press a kiss to your cum stained lips.

Your eyes slip shut as he kisses you, any tension left in your body dissolving as his tongue licks up his own release from your lips.

“Leave him” Jungkook murmurs, mouth hovering over yours, eyes still closed as the both of you bask in your afterglow. Skin sweat tacky, cooling slowly as his fingers dance over your skin, final humming of pleasure beneath your skin fizzling away.

“I can’t” you breathe.

“Run away then” he says, “with me”

Your eyes slip open, hand holding Jungkook’s jaw.

“Jungkook” you warn.

“What?” he mumbles, eyes slipping open to meet your own, “We can go somewhere far, he won’t find you… he won’t find us”

You wet your bottom lip, mind reeling as you weigh out your options.

“He doesn’t love you” his thumb runs over your cheek.

“I know” you whisper, eyes flickering between his, “But do you?”

Jungkook swallows, “Not as much as I want to, but that doesn’t mean what I’m feeling isn’t love”

You glance over at the clock on the wall, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as silence stretches out between the both of you.

You let out a long sigh, “We have an hour at most… before he’ll come looking”

Jungkook can’t help the smile that tugs onto his lips, “Then we should get going?”

The corners of your own lips tug upwards, “Yes… I suppose we should” you say, taking the hand he offers to help you sit up.

“Don’t make me regret this” you warn him as you slip your dress over your head, cringing at the drying cum that clings to your skin.

“I won’t” he promises.

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook fic #bts non idol au #bts

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colormepurplex2 · 2 months

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Now I'm Yours | Feel It In Your Soul

↳ Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!f.Reader ⤜ A/B/O, Established Relationship/Mates ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 6,697 ⚠️ Vulgar language, fingering, knotting, creampie, discussion of violent acts, fighting/physical altercation, alpha challenge, knife violence/attack, blood, injury, bond sex, dick licking/oral, slick eating, biting/marking, blood/wound licking, surprise pregnancy

A/N: Read Make You Mine, the first installment of this series, here!

⇽Previous Chapter ◅ Back to story masterlist

When you meet Jungkook’s family in the garage the next morning, the sun isn't even up yet. His parents are waiting next to the large SUV that’s idling by the open door when you enter through the side entrance from the laundry room.

After a hasty shower, you threw on jeans and a t-shirt and are now helping Junghyun load the back of the vehicle with a few boxes from the storage room. The tops of the boxes are labeled with various things, mostly boasting medical supplies or nonperishable foodstuffs.

“Did Jungkook say why he wanted us to bring all of this stuff?"

Junghyun looks up at you from under his brow as he bends over to retrieve the next box, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. “Donations. We’re going to be close to The Sanctuary, and we try to donate once a quarter if we’re able.”

This is the first you’ve heard of the Jeons donating to The Sanctuary. You’re intimately familiar with the place. It’s exactly what it sounds like: a sanctuary for abused or neglected omegas and their children. Mari was one such omega, cast aside by her original pack when she didn’t match with any of the alphas within it. It wasn’t until Roland, having just taken over as pack Alpha of your old pack, started up his own annual donations to The Sanctuary that he met Mari. Your old pack made at least a donation every six months after that, helping as many omegas and children as possible.

It’s not that you wouldn’t think the Jeons are a pack that would help those less fortunate; you’d just not given it much thought, considering you grew up thinking they were run by power-hunger alphaholes. Not that Jungkook isn’t an alphahole, he’s just…maybe not as bad as you once thought—even without the rose-tinged view you have of him now from being your mate.

The duel is taking place on neutral territory, which happens to be an old warehouse that’s been converted into a performance theatre in the entertainment district of the central city. The warehouse was renovated a few decades ago by the council when enough of the surrounding packs hounded them for a space to meet en masse.

It’s about three hour's drive, the view filled with the sun peeking over the mountains and trees with their leaves changing in preparation for winter. You sit in the passenger seat, head resting against the window while you try not to stress too much over the events of the next twenty-four hours.

“Come on, dear,” the soft voice of Jungkook’s mother drags you from your rumination. She’s leaning through the gap between the front seats, her hand lightly squeezing your shoulder. “We’re here.”

You hadn’t even realized the vehicle had stopped and that Junghyun and Jungkook’s father had gotten out already.

“Sorry,” you mutter, popping open the door and sliding out.

She meets you along the side of the SUV, a concerned look pinching her brow. “Are you feeling okay?”

Now that she mentions it, you are feeling a bit off-kilter. Though, it’s probably just the nerves. “Just worried, that’s all,” you explain, pressing a hand against your stomach.

“Did you skip breakfast?” she asks, hooking her arm around your other one and slowly leading you to where Junghyun and his father stand near the elevator of the parking garage.

Breakfast was the last thing on your mind this morning. “Yeah. I’ll be okay, though.”

“Nonsense,” she tuts, producing a whole-grain protein bar from the bag slung over her other shoulder. “You’ll feel better with something in your stomach. Now, let’s go find my son. Being near your alpha will do you a dose of good, as well.”

You nibble on the protein bar, looking to simply placate her, but find yourself suddenly ravenous and consume the whole thing in three bites. It sits like lead in your belly, and you immediately regret wolfing it down so quickly.

“This foolish display will start at precisely noon, not long now,” Jungkook’s father states, the clip of his cane hitting the linoleum flooring of the elevator echoing the disapproval that’s evident in his voice.

Junghyun presses the button that’s labeled ‘theatre hall’ on the control panel and the cabled car begins a swift ascent up to the fifth floor. You caught sight of Jungkook's motorcycle in the parking garage, sitting next to Jimin’s red sports car. A few other familiar vehicles lined the rows, but there were dozens more you didn’t recognize.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you feel a familiar humming warmth bloom in the center of your chest. It’s the same feeling you’ve learned to associate with being nearer to Jungkook. Peeking at your phone, you see it’s a message from the alpha, letting you know he’s waiting for you just on the other side of the elevator doors.

“There you are,” Jungkook exhales, not even waiting for you to get off the elevator before he’s gathering you into his arms. His scent engulfs you, immediately putting you at ease. Jungkook is all alpha, and as much as you hate to admit it, he’s exactly what you need; your stomach and nerves are instantly soothed.

Jungkook’s father clears his throat, drawing Jungkook’s attention. “What news do you have?”

Jungkook sighs, releasing most of his hold on you, but keeps an arm over your shoulders and ushers you out of the elevator and into the hall. “Most all the other families have arrived. Jimin is with Daehyun now. I haven’t managed to lay my eyes on either Raiden or Demetrius. According to the council, they’re supposed to be in the eastern dressing rooms. I have seen Kiel skulking around the halls, though, creepy bastard.”

“Have you seen Hyunsoo?” Jungkook nods in answer to his father’s question. “I’d like to have a word with him.”

“Last I saw him, he was inside speaking with the council.”

“Perfect, I could do with a word for them, too,” Jungkook’s father grumbles before starting toward the entrance to the performance hall proper. Junghyun follows closely behind, after dipping his chin at Jungkook. You’ve never seen Jungkook get bent out of shape over designation deference, as some alphas do. He doesn’t force those below him to bow and scrape; he just asks for as much respect as he affords them in exchange. It’s just another tick you’ve had to add to your ‘Jungkook isn’t as bad as I once thought’ list.

“Are you feeling okay?” Jungkook asks softly, his eyes flicking between yours.

You do feel much better now that you’re with him, which would normally grate on you, but you can’t seem to muster up the typical ire for some reason. “I’ll be fine,” you assure him. “Just nerves.” That seems to satisfy him.

“Come on, let’s go before Dad causes too much of a scene.”

“Umm, I’ll be right there. I’m just going to go to the restroom real quick.”

He continues to stare at you for a moment longer before slowly nodding. “Okay. Mom, we’ll be right back—”

“No, no. It’s okay, you don’t have to come with—”

“Jungkook,” his mom interrupts you both, giving her son an amused smile. “She might be your omega, but I promise she doesn’t need you to hold her hand while she uses the restroom. I’ll wait here for her. You go on ahead with your father and Junghyun.”

Pink creeps up Jungkook’s neck and kisses his ears. “Right. Okay. I’ll see you inside,” he mumbles, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before reluctantly taking his arm from across your shoulders and heading toward the door his father and brother disappeared through.

“Thank you,” you say to his mom. “I’ll be right back.”

You’ve only been here a handful of times over the years for various events, but you’re able to follow the signs well enough to the restrooms located on this side of the venue. However, when you get there, the door is locked, and there is a janitorial wet-floor sign posted right outside.

It’s just your luck, right as you’re starting to feel a light wave of nausea wash over you. Taking a few deep breaths to try and calm your inner omega, who isn’t helping the situation at all, you turn to retreat back to where Jungkook’s mom is waiting for you a few halls over. Maybe she’ll have something that can calm your warring stomach and nerves.

“I can break the lock if you need to get in there,” a voice calls out from further down the hall just as you take a step to go back. “You look like you need it.”

You swivel toward the voice but can only make out the silhouette of someone standing in a darkened doorway a few doors down. They pull out a phone, and the blue light illuminates the ceiling for a moment before it’s plunged back into darkness. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“You don’t look fine to me.” The words come with a chuckle that slithers over your senses and sets you on high alert. You’ve heard that voice before. “If fact, you look like a helpless little omega that’s about to sick up all over the floor.”

That’s a thought. You might just do that, considering who steps out from that doorway, the face fitting with the name screaming inside your head. Kiel Barton. He’s every inch the viperous bastard he’s known to be. Despite being not much taller than you, he’s thicker through each arm and leg than both of yours combined. His bald head glints in the overhead light, and the jagged scar on his right cheek is bright white against his red-flushed face. He swaggers into the hallway, just a few feet away, twirling a switchblade through his thick fingers.

“I’m not helpless,” you seethe through your teeth. You don’t necessarily mean for the words to come out so aggressively, but they do. Years of not taking shit from anyone don’t seem to have worn off too much from your time of being mated with Jungkook. And if it’s one thing you’ve always hated, it’s how everyone thinks omegas are weak and soft—helpless without an alpha.

Kiel grins, and it reminds you of something you might see in a horror film right before the psycho killer attacks. “Oh, sweet, sweet omega,” he crows before sucking in a deep lungful of air, “I don’t think you realize just how helpless you are right now.”

You’re about to turn on your heel and run when he leaps. It’s like a strike of lightning; he moves so fast—faster than your reflexes can keep up with. Pain thunders through you as his burly form knocks into you and sends you hurtling a few feet down the hall to land in a heap on the floor.

He’s back on you in an instant, cold steel pressed against your neck. “Get off me!” you scream, trying your best to buck him off despite the disorienting feeling still reeling inside your head.

“I promised my brother as long as he did his part, I would do mine,” Kiel sing-songs in a demented tone, his words trailing off into another one of those spine-chilling chuckles.

“Fuck you!” You struggle under his weight, your knees and elbows trying to get any purchase along his thick-muscled body that they can. You manage to catch him along the neck with your hand, nails scoring bloody lines through the devil tattoo he has there.

An ear-splitting roar, the sound of loud banging, and running feet sound from somewhere down the hall, making Kiel’s laughter trail off. “Looks like my time to play is—” A small, sneakered foot meets the side of his ribs, turning his words into a grunt. The hit barely rocks him, but you can’t be sure of who it is, though, around his bulk.

“Get off of her, you snake!” snarls a familiar feminine voice, only it’s dripping with far more acid than you’ve ever heard before.

“FUCK! I don’t have time for this!” Kiel thunders, rearing back and bringing a fist around right into your temple, sending you careening into hazy darkness.

There is so much noise and movement that when you first come to, you think you’re dreaming. But then the very real pain lights up along your side, and you’re reminded that this is very much not a dream. You’re laying on the floor in the hallway outside the bathroom, side smarting hard from the impact of hitting the floor and the memory of a meaty fist stark in your mind.

You go to sit up, only to have your hand slip through a puddle of warm, sticky liquid. The scent hits you a second later, thick and metallic. “Oh gods,” you whimper softly. Your hand is bright red when you bring it up in front of your face.

“Please,” comes an even more pitiful whimper from beside you. Adrenaline kicks in, and you flip onto your hands and knees, letting your eyes swing over the scene around you.

A dozen bodies are packed in the hall, fists flying and mouths opened in concussive bellows. It’s pandemonium. Everyone is fighting, familiar faces and those of strangers alike. All the sounds combined make you want to crawl into a corner and cover your ears, but the form lying beside you keeps you right where you are.

Jungkook’s mom lies on the floor. Her body turned at an odd angle, with her hips going one way and her torso the other as if she was flung around like a ragdoll. You realize the whimpering is coming from her. She lifts a trembling hand toward you, and you grab onto it, crawling closer to kneel beside her.

The blood covering your hand, now seeping through the knees of your jeans, is coming from her. A familiar-looking switchblade is protruding from the upper right area of her chest, between her clavicle and shoulder, and there is a cut over her left eyebrow that blood is steadily oozing from.

“No, no, no!” You quickly rip off a strip from the bottom of your t-shirt and press it around the blade, trying to staunch the wound. The cut above her brow doesn’t look deep; all the blood is a bit alarming, but you know headwounds are the worst in being deceptive; they bleed so much. You’re also scared to take your hands away from her chest. “What did you do?”

Her eyes flicker open, rolling wide until they land on you. “Had to”—she pauses, whimpering in pain as someone stumbles backward and knocks into her splayed legs—”pr-protect the baby.”

“Protect the–protect the wh—”

“NO!” The alpha roar echoes through the hall, as loud as a thunderclap.

In the same instant that your hands are moved aside and replaced by the older, more gnarled ones of her mate, arms come around you from behind and you’re lifted up off the floor. Fear grips your throat, and you flail, aiming your elbow backward at whoever grabbed you.

“Stop, calm down!” Jungkook’s voice snaps you out of your fight instinct, and you sag in his arms. The fighting around you has turned into pockets of isolated struggle.

You blink a few times, clearing the panicked haze from your eyes, finally able to piece everything together. There are a few busted lips and some already swelling eyes, but there are at least a handful of familiar faces around you. Each one is executing some form of hold over individuals with less familiar faces; headlocks, arm bars, and others that look just as effective, if maybe more painful.

Then there is the scene at your feet, right out of a horror movie. Jungkook’s dad and brother are kneeling beside his mom, the knife still sticking out of her chest. It looks like the blood has stopped pooling around the blade, but you can’t seem to remember if that’s a good or a bad sign.

“Jungkook! Your mom, we need a medic!” you urge, struggling in his arms again.

A sinister, wet, cackling laugh cuts through the hushed din of the hallway before it turns into a hacking cough. You can hear the distinct sound of flesh hitting flesh and pained grunts.

”Shut up, you sick bastard!” The ragged cry comes from further down the hallway, where you see Seokjin with his arms wrapped around Kiel’s upper torso and Yoongi throwing fists into his stomach. “How dare you!?”

“Yoongi.” Jungkook doesn’t have to raise his voice at all. The other alpha stops, fist poised mid-punch, his shoulders heaving. “That’s enough.” The coldness in Jungkook’s tone has the hairs on the back of your neck prickling. You’ve never heard him sound so utterly emotionless. “For now.”

Pounding footsteps sound from the other end of the hall, and a few betas come skidding into view, medical bags in hand. “Out of the way!” one of the betas shouts, shouldering his way down the hall before dropping down beside Junghyun and beginning to work. “I need to get her stabilized before we can move her.”

Everything is still a bit cloudy for you; all you have are flits and flashes of memory, but it’s not hard to piece it together. Kiel came after you outside the bathroom, and then Jungkook’s mom tried to interfere. “Is she, is she going to be okay?” you ask, voice soft, your lips trembling around the question.

Jungkook hooks an arm under the backs of your legs and hoists you up against his chest, and you get your first good look at his face. There is a dribble of blood coming from the corner of his mouth and mild swelling coming up around his left eye.

He’s about to open his mouth to say something when a group of grey-haired alphas cut around the corner at the end of the hall, and the one in the front gasps dramatically, “Good gods! What has happened?” You groan at the loud sound, burying your face into Jungkook’s chest.

“This is what happens when you entertain absurd demands from a known trouble-making pack,” Jungkook’s father states with barely veiled malice.

“This is your mess,” Jungkook says, directing attention to the elders shuffling their feet at the end of the hall. His words are acerbic despite him speaking at a normal volume. It’s an alpha statement, carrying the cutting edge of an unspoken command. The entire hallway stills, the air thick with tension.

“Our mess?”

“If you had listened to me from the start about how utterly ridiculous this whole duel bullshit was, this”—he nods down at his mother, who is still being worked on by the betas—”wouldn’t have happened. I’ll have all of you off the council before the week is over, mark my words,” he seethes. “And, if she doesn’t recover fully, I’ll have more than just your titles. Yoongi, Seokjin, you know what to do.” With that, Jungkook turns and stalks down the hall, carrying you with him.

🌙🌙🌙

Jungkook

There is so much rage simmering beneath Jungkook’s skin that he thinks he might explode if he doesn’t let it out somehow. However, the only outlet he wants right now is you—to get lost in your body and your soul—but you’re in no state to take the brunt of his emotions.

“Jungkook.” Your soft voice draws his gaze down to your face. Seeing the swelling around your eye makes him want to turn around and finish what Yoongi was starting. Jungkook isn’t violent, but he could level the entire city right now if he weren’t so focused on getting you checked out. You bring a hand up and lightly trace the break in his lip. “What happened?”

“Raiden and Demetrius. I think this was their plan all along. One minute, Father and I were talking to the council while we waited, and the next, Raiden and Demetrius, along with a half dozen of their pack, came bursting into the theatre and attacked us.” Jungkook sighs, shaking his head. “I felt you, I felt the…” the trails off, not wanting to voice those feelings aloud. The pure terror he felt through his mate connection to you. The tie between the two of you has never really been an open street, he’s never been able to feel your emotions so viscerally before. It was almost enough to take him to his knees. If he didn’t need to fight off a pack of rabid alphas, it nearly might have. “I’m sorry,” Jungkook rasps.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for. We knew they were up to no good. I should have been more vigilant or, at least, taken you up on your offer to escort me to the restroom.” You try to laugh, but it turns into a groan as your head pounds.

“Let’s get you to the hospital so they can check you over.”

No amount of protests from you will deter Jungkook from getting you to a doctor. Junghyun texts him shortly after he places you in the backseat of the SUV, letting Jungkook know that everyone else is on their way to the hospital and an ambulance is en route to get their mother but that the betas are hopeful.

Several hours later, you’ve been released from the hospital with confirmation of no lasting damage, just a recommendation to get some rest. Jungkook’s lip is patched with a butterfly stitch, per your insistence, and it itches as he sits on the edge of the bed in the hotel room he booked before leaving the hospital. Even though you aren’t concussed or anything, Jungkook didn’t want to risk taking you all the way back to pack lands.

Besides, his mother was admitted and is still there for observation, and he doesn’t feel comfortable being too far away while she’s in recovery. She went in for surgery immediately upon arrival and woke up not too long ago. Junghyun and their father are staying at the hospital with her until she’s cleared to go home, which will hopefully not be more than a few days. Apparently, her wounds looked worse than they were, and she was fortunate Kiel didn’t get her an inch further to either side. Otherwise, it might be a very different outcome.

Jimin texted him a bit ago, letting him know the entire Barton pack is being detained at the local precinct, and the authorities are awaiting word from Jungkook about charges. The council sequestered themselves behind closed doors, but the duel was considered null due to the circumstances. Jimin feels bad about being part of the ruse, even if he was just being used as a means to get close to the Jeon pack.

It’s come to light that the Bartons decided to use their feud with the Parks because they knew the Jeons wouldn’t sit idly by. One big, elaborate plan, all to get close to Jungkook’s Luna and try to tear down the hierarchy. If Jungkook lost his Soulmate, he’d lose his foundation of power as well. Or so, that’s what the buzz was when some of the Barton betas were interrogated, according to Jimin.

Jungkook knows everything is going to be okay, that you’re going to be okay; the doctor told him as much. But, despite that assurance, he can’t seem to relax. You’re curled up in the bed, facing him, and you look so peaceful, even with the swelling on the side of your face, but all he can feel is rage when he sees that…rage and so much guilt.

He never should have let you go to the restroom on your own. If he has his way, he’s never going to let you out of his sight again. It’s such an alarming realization, going from one polar sensation to the next. The fact he could give two shits less about you just a few months ago, and now here he is wanting to murder someone for touching you, is hard to wrap his head around.

Yet, here he is, fisting the edge of one of the blankets as he battles this feeling inside himself. The fact his alpha has been mostly silent since Jungkook laid eyes on you in that hallway is just as alarming. It’s almost like his alpha is giving him space. For the first time since coming into his designation, he feels like a giant void separates him from his alpha; he doesn’t like it.

There’s also the pile of papers sitting on the desk, a few feet away, that hold another key bit of information that won’t let him relax. It was standard testing, just something to help rule other things out and see what kinds of tests they could and could not perform to assess your head.

You’re pregnant.

Now that he knows, Jungkook can tell. There is a distinct, underlying change to your scent. It’s sweeter somehow, more alluring in the sense that you now smell partly like him. He should have known before. He knows that if he hadn’t spent so much time away from you, he would have realized it sooner.

You were surprised, but your shock seemed more subdued. When questioned, you told Jungkook what his mother had said to you. Somehow, even his mother knew before he did. Jungkook feels like a failure, like he’s done nothing right by you. It had to have happened the night of your designation celebration. Neither of you had bothered with any preventative measures that night, too lost in the touch and feel of each other to care.

And now, here you are, pregnant without a bite on your neck and a knot on the side of your head. If anything were to have happened to the baby…Jungkook isn’t sure he can even think about that right now. Not without wanting to put his fist through the wall.

He’s spent weeks worried about staying away from you when all along, he was clearly concerned about all the wrong things. The doctor assured him that even the most attentive of alphas take several weeks before they can smell their own child in the womb. But that doesn’t make Jungkook feel any better.

He thinks back on all the curt and what he thought were nagging messages he had gotten from his mother the last few weeks and can see them in a different light now. She wasn’t just trying to chastise him about his duty; she was trying to coax him home so he could be there for his mate in a way he should have from the start.

Jungkook knows what he needs to do now. There is no question about it. Though, it’s not because he feels obligated…no, he truly wants to solidify that bond with you. As soon as you’re ready, he’s going to offer himself to you, finally and fully.

“Jungkook, are you okay?” your sweet voice breaks him out of his thoughts and makes him release his tight hold on the sheets.

Your eyes look so big and bright even in the dim light of the hotel room as you sleepily blink up at him. How he never wanted to give himself over to you so completely before now marks him as a sure fool.

He sighs, exhaling a slow breath. “Yeah. How are you feeling?”

You stretch, wincing only slightly as your arm brushes along the side of your face. “Better, I think.”

“Can we talk?” he asks after a pause of silence.

You give him a guarded look as you slowly sit up and gather some of the blankets in your lap. The doctor told him you might start feeling the need to nest and gather comfort items, so he had specifically requested the Omega suite, which comes with complimentary brand-new fuzzy blankets and extra pillows that guests are allowed to take home when checking out.

“Sure,” you finally say.

Jungkook watches as emotions cross your face, echoing the pulse he can feel emanating from his chest. His alpha perks up, rousing for the first time in hours it feels like.

“Okay.” Now that he’s been given the go-ahead to talk, he’s suddenly feeling very self-conscious and uncertain. “I know you told me I don’t need to apologize, but I’m going to anyway.” Your lips form a thin line when he says that, so he hurries to continue, “Not for”—he gestures vaguely in your direction—”but for everything else. I want to apologize for everything before this. The way I’ve treated you and how I’ve acted. You’ve deserved better than what I’ve offered you these last few weeks—for being an asshole and a fucking dick,” Jungkook uses your own choice of words for him, and that earns him a small smile from you.

“I want to apologize, too, then. And before you can protest”—Jungkook was 100% about to—”just let me finish. Sure, you’ve not been the greatest the last few weeks, but I know I haven’t either. I should have tried harder, fought you on you being gone all the time, stood up for what I wan–er, needed, and been honest with how it was making me feel.”

Jungkook shakes his head, unable to believe how you’ve yet again turned the tables on him. “I, uh, there’s something that…there’s something I want to do,” Jungkook barely manages to get the words out as anxiety spikes at the prospect of you refusing.

“What is it?”

The look of intrigue on your face turns into pure shock as Jungkook prostrates himself on the bed in front of you, deliberately turning his head to expose the side of his neck to you, an act of submission. “I’m giving myself to you, wholly and completely. All those weeks ago, I claimed you and made you mine, and…now I’m yours.”

🌙🌙🌙

You stare at Jungkook, not sure what to say. “I-I don’t need,” you begin, reaching for Jungkook and encouraging him to sit up, “you to do that. You don’t have to bend to me…as long as you promise never to make me bend to you either.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “I can’t promise I’ll be perfect, but I’ll never force you to be something that you’re not ever again. I’m sorry I didn’t realize this sooner, I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you when you asked to come with me to Jimin’s. From now on, I’ll listen to you, and I’ll not dismiss your concerns or voice. I don’t want you to feel like you’re beneath me simply because you’re my mate. I want you as my equal instead.”

The truth behind Jungkook’s words is evident in the fervent way he delivers them but also in the way your omega mews in satisfaction. A bite for a bite, an equal. Even though you wouldn’t be leaving a permanent mark on his neck like he will on yours, it’s still the intention, and it’s completely unheard of in your world. There are stories, myths, really…but nothing wholly substantial.

You shift on the bed, gathering your knees underneath you. Your jeans went into the trash, and all the hospital had was a thin pair of shorts and a t-shirt for you to wear. You fluff out the blankets absently as you mull over his words. “Your equal?”

“Yes,” Jungkook resolutely declares.

“I think I would like that,” you whisper, eyeing Jungkook’s mouth with a quickly burning hunger.

“Are you sure?” Jungkook asks, swallowing hard as you lean in closer to him. “If you need more time to think, that’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” you counter, raising a questioning eyebrow.

Jungkook responds by kissing you hard on the mouth, wrapping his arms around you, and dragging you against his chest. He tastes like home; his tongue is warm and wet against yours, and you’re certain you could drown in the sensation if he let you. But, he comes up for air, breaking the kiss for a moment before pressing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw.

Even with the aches in your face and body, you respond to him. With every teasing nip of his mouth, you feel yourself growing wet. The fragrant cream of your slick blooms in the air, melding with his masculine and spicy scent to create the perfect, heady bouquet.

“I’ve never been more sure about something,” Jungkook whispers the affirmation between kisses until his warm breath ghosts over the scent mark on your neck. “You smell so damn good,” he groans.

You can feel his lips part over the skin there; his tongue laves out and swipes up the side of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. With trembling hands, you help each other discard your clothing, finally coming back together skin to skin. Jungkook pulls you into his lap, his thick cock sitting snugly against your ass. You can feel the bulge of his knot already as if his body is automatically responding to just your closeness.

“You can say stop at any time,” you tell him, earning a surprised grunt when you shove him back against the pillows and deliberately slide your ass slowly over his cock as you move backward.

There is a challenge in his eyes as you meet them. You move until you’re kneeling between his knees, cock sitting prettily before you. “Where, ah,” Jungkook sucks in a stilted breath when you take the head of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it, “did you want to?” Pink tinges Jungkook’s ears as he looks down at you, mouth full of him. You tap the inside of his thigh and raise your brows in silent question. “O-okay, just…just be gentle.”

That makes you chuckle, the vibration coming up your throat, and you can tell it sends a shock through Jungkook; his head drops back, and his mouth opens with a loud moan. “Gentle says the man about to put a permanent bite on my neck. An act that is none too gentle, I might add,” you say, letting his cock slip out from between your lips.

“Okay, that’s fair,” he relents, his words breathy as you trace along the underside of his dick with your tongue. “Be as aggressive as you want, then.”

Feeling egged on just a little by that declaration, you plant your teeth firmly into the meat of his inner thigh and bite as hard as you dare. Your teeth pinprick his skin, and the metallic tang of blood leeches onto your tongue. Jungkook grunts; his whole body shivers against your mouth.

“Was that okay?” you ask tentatively once you’ve pulled back to admire the twin crescent impressions you left behind. There isn’t that much blood. The two small wounds from your teeth are already clotted.

Jungkook lets out a heavy exhale as his body finally relaxes back against the bed. His cock twitches beside your face, producing a thick string of pre-cum that has your mouth watering for a taste.

“That was,” he pants, “hot as fuck.”

Pride fills you, and your body kindly reminds you with an intense throb in your clit, how much it turns you on when Jungkook talks like that. “Your turn,” you urge, desperate to get his teeth on your skin and his cock in your pussy.

Jungkook growls his approval, letting his alpha strength take over, and maneuvers you easily into a kneeling position in front of him. Using a gentle hand in your hair, he pulls you up until your back is pressed against his chest, giving him unfettered access to the front of your body while being able to tease your clit with the tip of his length.

“Are you ready for me?” he asks, using the hand in your hair to angle your head sideways so he can lick along the side of your neck. “Let’s see.” His other hand slides down the front of your body, tweaking your nipples on the way, until his middle finger grazes over your swollen, aching clit.

“Don’t tease me,” you say between clenched teeth. Your omega adds her indignation to your own, making your words come out laced with additional grit.

“I just want a little taste,” Jungkook whispers as he hooks his finger lower and massages it along your slit, collecting a generous amount of slick as he does so. You watch as his finger comes up and disappears beside your face.

The wet laving sound of Jungkook sucking his finger sends a shudder through you. You reach down with your hands, cupping Jungkook’s cock in one and using the other to part the lips of your pussy so you can fit him against your entrance. “Fuuuck,” you drawl out as the broad head of his cock slides in.

“I love the way your pussy tastes,” Jungkook moans, dropping his hand to your hip and using it to guide your ass back against him, forcing him deeper. “It’s almost as good as how it feels.”

His fingers prod along your hip, sliding until his palm rests over your lower belly. You whimper, rocking your hips the best you can, and place your hand over his. “How do I look?” you ask. “You once told me I’d look so pretty once I was pregnant with your pup. Do you still think that?”

“You are,” he starts, “the single most”—he emphasizes the words with long, rolling strokes of his cock that have his knot kissing your lower lips with every forward motion—”beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. Even before I fucked you raw and knocked you up.” The beautiful, endearing words contrast so wildly with the dirty confession he tacks on at the end. Proving once again that Jungkook knows exactly how to wind you up and have you begging for more.

“Prove it,” you goade, intentionally dipping your head to the side to expose your neck further to him.

The moment his teeth touch your skin, you both freeze. It lasts only a second, the time it takes for them to sink into the tender expanse of your scent gland. It’s like a double punch to the gut; you can feel it all the way in your soul. The bond snaps into place the same instant Jungkook fits his knot inside you, and you explode, disintegrating into a million tiny little points of pleasure.

Your body opens for him, both physically and mentally. What was once a small trickle of feeling now becomes a deluge of intensity. You’re vaguely aware of Jungkook groaning as he meets his own release, throbbing heavily within your walls. You can feel him beneath your skin, feel the way your own body is wrapped so tightly around his knot, and the infinite pleasure that’s flooding through both of your systems.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jungkook mumbles against your neck, his teeth finally pulling free from your skin. “I can feel everything.”

It’s hard to tell where he begins, and you end. There is a sense of middling permanence, the perfect balance between alpha and omega. You once feared that submitting to him completely would change you in some cataclysmic way. And, it has…only, you don’t feel damned. In fact, it’s far more empowering than you ever thought possible.

Jungkook brushes his tongue along the fresh bite, tending to your wound in a tender way that has you slumping over. He follows you down, gently rutting his hips, which forces his knot to rub and grate inside of you, flooding you with another luscious rush of dopamine, like a second orgasm.

“Jungkook?” you ask, trying not to fall asleep as he continues to nuzzle your neck, and his knot keeps you secured so close to his warm body.

“Hmm?” he hums. Jungkook settles you both on your side, holding you against his chest with one hand and stroking and petting with soft, sensual strokes along every inch of your body that he can reach with the other.

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

“I promise never to make you doubt me ever again. You are my soulmate, my Luna…the mother of my child. You are my everything.”

And just as Jungkook said, he made you his, and now he’s yours. Forever.

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